Super Important Info/Alerts:
11/14/06- Just realized something about Francis. A cbox is a chatbox... (You all knew that, just wait for my point), but i might not always be there to read all the messages. Sometimes i might not respond for a day, but i promise i WILL check it sooner or later, and leave a happy lil message. Rest assured, you shan't be ignored! (...Is shan't even a word?) if i ever happen to be there when you r, maybe we could have a discussion... about my story or a random object, such as a spork... Yes, Francis likes sporks!
11/12/06-Ok, whether I'm facing some problem, going away/haitus, having a burnout, or asking opions, it's all going to be posted at the tippy-toppy of my profile!!!
Sooo, what's so important that I'd suddenly create a special section to put it under, you ask?
Well... MY CBOX LIVES!!! Yes, that's right! His name is Francis and he was born 11/12/06 at 8:37pm... Why am I telling you all this? Because, incase you ever wanna reach me or have some kind of discussion thats easier to use than a forum, just go to my homepage! There you can feed Francis with as many messages as you'd like! MAKE FRANCIS FAT!
OoooOoooOoooO
Hey, whats up?
Love the shirt!
Yeah... not quite the way most people would start their profile... or so you'd think! (Dun, dun dun)
But, what's there that's really worth writing about on a page dedicated entirely to yourself?
Oh... right... Stupid question...
But honestly, why would anyone wanna know about me? Perverts! O.o;
Ouch, I was only joking...
No, seriously... wouldn't you all rather read this rant than see some pointless info on someone you will probably never meet?
Geez, no need to be rude!
Yeah, I am having a little bit too much fun talking to myself...
No, I assure you all that I am exactly 83.7 percent sane.
Yes, really... -.-;
Me, Myself, And I
Name: Rachel (MiiaKe)
AGe: 14
BiRthdAy: JUly 12 1992
SiGn: CaNceR
Element: WaTer
FaVoriTe AnimaL: WoLf
FaVoriTe MythOlogIcaL CreatuRe: (Holy Moses, where should I start!? O.o;) WerEwolF, VampiRe, DragOn, MeRMaiD (Yeah, that's not a typo...)
SpoRts: FeNcinG (I fence foil...Can't touch this!)
Bio: WTF? (That was silly of me to put here wasn't it?)
Well, I'm tired of typing stuff like that. Not easy on one's eyes, as you all should realize by now. (Duh.)
What else to put here? Favorite quotes? Hell, why not? -.-
Favorite Quotes/Memories:
Some time last summer, in my kitchen...
Me (getting a drink from the fridge and pouring it into a glass cup): "Hey dad... Why does the peach nectar look like pee?"
Dad (somewhere on the otherside of the house): "What?"
Me(Pouring the nectar down the kitchen sink): "Uh... nevermind."
OoooOoooOoooO (My lovely little scene dividers... since the divider button won't work on my PC)
Two summer's ago at camp... Me all dressed up in dark clothes and still a flat-chest who wasn't yet under the harsh laws of peer pressure (Le sigh... the good ole days). Of course, my mother, being the over-protective, sun-stroke fearing, child-molester hating, early curfew giving person she was, made me wear this bulky navy blue baseball cap for the fear of me getting sun-stroke. Well, being the weirdo I am, I put it on backwards (ghetto style... not my thing) since it looked really dorky the otherway. The camp director made the entire camp go outside for the color war (I. HATE. CAMP.) and we all got balloons. So there I was, flirting with the cutest guy I met all summer, when some little snotty five year old boy walks up to me... (Grrr...)
The Brat: "Hey you!"
Me: "Huh?"
Brat: "Are you a boy or a girl, and can I have your balloon?"
Me(Glaring): "I'm a girl! And no... you can't have the balloon!" (I love how I react during akward moments...)
That... wasn't a funny quote, was it? Ah well, must be one of those, 'if only you were there' kind of things. My best friend, Meredith, gets it... After all, she was only laughing her head off about it for the next week. (And if your wondering if I'm one of the people who look like both guys and girls... I'm not... My friends at school tell me I'm pretty and need more self-confidence... Which is why I don't believe them. Seriously, how would you feel if the people who try to hit on you are either forty year old midgets or total pervs?)
OoooOoooOoooO
Back when I was either nine or ten, I was at Party Fair with my mom. She was over looking at the party decorations while I was wandering around the back somewhere... Suddenly, I feel someone tap on my shoulder so I turn around. And who do I find? Some creepy midget, who looks like our substitute gym teacher I might add, staring me up and down with a perverted look on his face. The creep was following me around that store for 15 minutes just saying 'Hi'... Is it any wonder I had midget phobia after that?
Sometime a couple of months later I was at the movies with my former best friend, Faith . We were standing on line, waiting for out tickets to go see National Treasure for her birthday... Good times.
Faith(Grabbing my arm and shaking my shoulders): "Rachel, did you see that midget!?"
Me: "Ahh! Where?!"
That little scene ended with the midget glaring daggers at my best friend (If looks could kill she'd be lying in a pool of her own blood) and a group of preppies at the snack bar whispering about the two little girls with some kind of dementia.
OoooOoooOoooO
Remember that quote you just read? Well of course you do, you just read it (-.-)... Anyways... Earlier that day, meaning three hours before I shipped off for my friends house, I went to the doctor's. As fate would have it, I was due for my dreaded Tetanus shot (You know, the one that makes your arm sore for days after you get?). Well, I'll spare you the details of what happened (Me screaming, arm all red, an ugly Bugs Bunny band-aid... The usual.), and get on with the story. Back at that age, I had a tendency of mispronouncing everything I say; Heck, I still have that problem now... Which provided humor to the people around me, usually at my cost.
So, Faith and I were riding home after the movies. We were both sitting in the back talking, when my best friend finally took notice of the ugly band-aid I'd been wearing for nearly 5 hours.
Faith: "Hey, how'd you get that band-aid? Did our little Rachel get hurt while maiming someone... again?" (So I was vicious... Shut up, I'll tear your eyes out!)
Me(Punching Faith in the arm): "Nope, not this time. I had to get my tetris shot today so I wouldn't come down with rabies... Wait! Ouch! Don't go poking it!"
Incase you were wondering, I'm not blonde... I'm brunnette (I just have my moments). And yeah... I never heard the end of the 'tetris shot' jokes now.
Rants And Acts Of Stupidity:
I think someone must have hit the off switch on my brain when I was a baby, cause I am completely brain dead as of now. I mean, how many people do you know who would go running through the rain to get the mail? (Wait for it...) In November. Wearing flip flop sandals. And PJ's. PJ's consisting of a baggy grey tee-shirt with two holes on the bottom which somehow just appeared one day, and a pair of shorts (SHORT shorts. And breezy too!) with little blue stars, moons, and flowers. And to top off running across an acre of wet grass and mud during a downpoar in November in my tinky-winky (Oh, don't even go there) PJ's and not so warm and cozy flip flops, I have been sick with God knows what for over eleven days! Yeah... I'm a freakin moron...
And speaking of that eleven day disease... What the hell is it!?
I have undergone every test, medicine, and treatment that three sadistic doctors can think of! Sami tells me the school nurse is my new best friend. I can't blame her either. Everytime I go to visit the nurse (So far that would be everyday in November that I wasn't out sick, and half of October) I end up telling her my problems, worries, life story... By the middle of the year, I think that poor woman will know more about me then I will!
And as for my regular doctors... yes, notice the 's' which makes that plural... For starters, I go to a children's doctor... At the age of 14. For God's sake, they have a Pac Man machine and a Mario machine in the waiting room! And what's worse is my dad (he's over forty, but I can't actually remember how old... Oh well!) always goes and plays them. And wins. Slightly akward, no? Just wait until a four year old comes over and stares. But anyways, that's slightly off topic. The point is that I've gone to the doctor so many times in the last few weeks that the secretaries all wave to me and greet me like an old time buddy. Wait, I'm not done yet. You know how when you go to the doctor, the nurse has to weigh you every time you're there? Well, at this point we just skip past it. They already have it memorized. And they even call me by my nickname. Have you ever had a nurse say, "Hey Rach, back again I see."? You haven't? Good for you.
But hey, I think I'm slowly getting better. After all, I only have to take seven different medicines every day. I sound like a total nerd, I know... Don't go rubbing it in. But then again, I guess I am a nerd. Not in the classical huge circle glasses (Sadly, I wear glasses though), plaid pants and suspenders that can give anyone a permenant wedgie, and braces kind of way. I mean my personality and social life. I get all A's and two B's and what happens? Everyone in my house except for my dad freaks out. What the hell? Most people in my class (In a prep school where the teachers actually admit to using the country's hardest text books) are getting C's and D's. Oh well. Being the nerd I am, I have to go and pass all the exams, do 50 pounds of homework, and be in bed by curfew (Yes, I said curfew... I blame mommy-deary for it). Nerdy enough for you? Well, I've still got plenty to add. That's why this is under my ranting section. I knew it would be handy!
Which brings me to another point. I'm waaaay too organized for my own good. When I was little, I used to entertain myself by making schedules of what I would do during the weekend. Yep, let's all take a moment to wince together. Feel better?
Well, speaking of being a little kid, I also had ADHD (From you daddy) to top things off. And I still do. (We discovered pills to fix it though!) Because my folks are from Russia, they had no idea what ADHD was. Shut up, I have a point to this story! When they came here and had me, I was a little hyper, and maybe a little violent (I tried to cut off Peter's head with scissors, and he also tells me I ran into the boy's bathroom... naked. O.o).
So, my parents decided they had to fix this problem. They took me to a behavioral specialist who introduced them to my lifelong enemy: The 1-2-3 policy. You know, 3 strikes and you're out type thing? That means whenever I talked back or did something bad, they would count out "1". If it happened twice again, then they would reach 3 and I got grounded. Sadly, the 1-2-3 policy is still being practiced on me, daily. And I have no choice but to listen. Wait, I can explain why!
I live in the nice old middle of nowhere. Seriously! You leave my neighborhood and go left, and you'll find nothing but trees. If you go right you find 2 roads crossing eachother. One one corner is an old church, but since I'm born Jewish (I don't believe in religion though) that doesn't do much for me. On the other side is a gas station with that nifty little shop that sells yummy yummy tater chips. I am such a retard. No, don't answer to that. Across from that is a run down gas station with an old truck. It has the maddest paint job! You know you're cool when you own a truck that has stars and stripes painted all over it. Then on the last of the four corners is another gas station, and a small plaza that includes a bagel shop, a shitty pizza shop, a gym about the size of our dinning room (Extra-small), and some kind of deli... type... thingie? How does this all relate to my nerdyness? Well, with no where to go, and a phobia of people (I'll go into that later... Like in one or two paragraphs), I try to avoid being grounded as if that were worse then death. You see, in my family being grounded means no TV, PC, video games, music, phone calls, internet, drawing, reading, or doing anything else fun. I'm surprised my parents don't ban me from turning on the lights. So I have to be a good little girl and not get grounded, or I'll be bored to death. You might be wondering, why doesn't the retard just turn on the TV quietly or use headphones to listen to music? Well, because my parents are the type who would cut the power in my room forever if I got caught. And seeing as I'm Captain Oblivious, there's a high probability I would indeed get caught.
Aside from my personality, my friends tell me I don't look like the nerdy type (Aside from the glasses. I like contacts, but honestly, I'm way too slow to put them on in the morning. So... sucks for me!). To be honest, they're right. I don't know what God was drinking when I came into this world, but clearly he made a mistake (I know I said I don't believe in religion, but even so, I find it fun to complain about God. Sue me, I'm a hypocrite.). Nerds, as the cliche goes, have huge glasses, braces you can see from a mile away, and acne that makes a pepperoni pizza look attractive. Well, I have oval glasses, which do NOT take up half my face. They're in front of my eyes, doing what they do best: Keeping me from running into a tree... again. Surprisingly, I don't have braces. Never have, never will. Why is that so surprising? Well, in kindergarden (Our school is kindergarden through twelfth grade) it was morning play time and the big old fourth graders were playing basketball. The rule in our school was: don't bug the big kids. The school might be too small to get beat up in, but its just small enough so that people can spread rumors within two days. Mean kids huh? So being the smart little girl I was, I ran over to where they were playing hoops, and waited for the ball to go out of bounds. And it did. It bounced straight onto me. Right into my two front teeth. (I used to be short in kindergarden, then the tallest from fifth grade to seventh grade, and now I'm plain middle height. Bleh.) What do you think happened to those two front teeth? I'll give you a hint: I had a nice big gap in my mouth during picture day. Figure it out? Good job! Then, when my two adult teeth came in, there was a huge space between the two teeth. But the doctor couldn't give me braces because all the other teeth still hadn't been replaced by adult teeth. Good thing too, cause by the time they all came in, I had perfect teeth. Weird isn't it? Maybe God felt pity for me. Maybe he just did it so my life would be filled with irony. Who knows.
Cliches also state that nerds have really bad acne. Well, not in my case. Sure, I'm not one of those girls who has that perfect skin. And hell, I never will be. I get zits and pimples, like anyone else who pigs out on too much junk food at their best friend's house (I don't really like candy, but once in a while I want some. And since my mom is anti-junk food, I have to wait a month to get to my best pal's house and pig out with her. Love you Meredith! I'd die without you!!!). Just because I have a zit once in a while doesn't mean my face is gonna go all krakatoa and errupt. My skin is actually pretty clear, and since I despise make up of any sort, I won't be worrying about pre-mature wrinkles either.
Now, I have no idea if there's a cliche about what color a nerd's hair and eyes are, but I don't really care. I have long, straight brown hair (With natural blonde highlights! Natural I tell you! I would never ever dye my hair!), which sometimes gets wavey on the bottom. I have two side bangs and my hair is layered around my face and shoulders. The rest of my hair lies on my midback. Does that sound like the classic nerd hairstyle to you? From what I've read and heard, nerds have short messy hair with bangs that get into their eyes all the time. Well, I dunno if that's true or not, but it doesn't apply to me. As for my eyes... I hate my eyes. They're all big and brown (Not big enough to make me look high and ready to have a seizure, but big enough to allow me to perfect my puppy dog face). I have no problem with the big part, but I detest having brown eyes. Everyone on my mom's side had those gorgeous baby blue eyes with the hints of green. But, with my luck and bad karma (What did I do in my past life? Cause I'm paying for it in this one!), I ended up with plain old brown eyes. Though, in the right light they can appear to have a red glint, a sure way to scare your friends off, eh?
Now, as far as I know nerds don't have beauty marks; they have freckles. Well, I have an irritating beauty mark on the left side of my face, spaced a little away from my lips (No freckles though!). Why, you ask, is a beauty mark irritating? Well, imagine being a tiny third grader with a crush on the bad boy of your class. And now imagine him always making mean comments behind you (But so you can still hear, of course), or pulling your hair, or just going out of his way to make you miserable. How would you feel after he would go up to you and tell you "Hey look, there's a mole on her face!" After dealing with shit like that for 3 years, it gets stuck in your head! I dunno if he had a crush on me (What are the odds of that? Oh, wait! none...) or if he was just a total jerk, but either way, what he said had a lasting effect... (To Be Continued...)
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