My full name is Megan Elizabeth. I'm not very fond of it.
I'm just a fourteen-year-old (fifteen come late August) writing about the little that I have to write about. I live in a boring ol' soccer-mom-infested neighborhood with no sidewalks in a city that's painfully proud of itself but with nothing to be proud of. I kind of hate it here. But we've been driving around pretty much the whole west end of the US and compared to places like Boise and Vegas, you know, it's not so bad where I am. I'd still rather live in Seattle or Portland... or Europe!
I think someday I could be an artist if I found my niche. But I hate using pencil, colored pencil, or markers, I hate oil pastels or chalk, I hate most forms of paint, and I hate all things crafty.
I love clay, charcoal, pen, acrylic, fabric... I like gluing stuff together...
I went litter picking the other day and kept all the litter. I think I'll make a tree out of it. Like that one commercial, only it was actually my original idea because I'd forgotten all about that commercial until my friend reminded me, not that I don't love that commercial, but it's kind of sad that people will think my idea's not so original anymore.
I mostly write rambling poems that don't rhyme and sometimes don't make sense. So have fun reading my assorted trains of thought, children.
My favorite song today: The Obvious Child by Paul Simon
My rant today: It's ironic in a dark, dry, sarcastic, entirely humorless "Huh." kind of way, how when I'm feeling easily pissed off and I happen to have demonstrated a short temper about unreasonable things one day and then I see someone else do something worth making an example of by my parents (say, my brothers not shutting up or my father being way more of a bitch than can be excusable by sickness, yes, even pneumonia) and I call it to the attention of the people around me, I am immediately reprimanded and the person who should have been yelled at gets let off without a scratch, but then a few minutes later that same person does the same thing and the person who bitched me out is the victim this time and they don't waste a moment in throwing way more of a fit about it than I ever did.
My word this week: absurd (and it has been for two weeks now)
My project: Litter tree...
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