Ignore the first face. It's ugly.

Put your ear to the computer screen.

If you listen hard enough you should be able to hear a little four year old boy singing:

Can can can can can you do the can can? I can do the can can, ohh yes I can can can can can.

Ya. I want to jab my ears in with a pen.

Thank goodness I can't find one right now.

This is my life.

Yes. This great facial grid is my life. For almost everything concerning my life.

Such things as:

New classes.

Friends.

Boys.

Stupid Girls.

Family.

Neighbors.

Santa.

Phase 1:

Fear. Or extreme distraught.

Usually this happens when I am introduced to something new or a change in my life.

I don't want to accept it.

I think that it is going to change my perfectly cute life.

I have anxiety. And may almost pee a little.

Phase 2:

Bitterness.

I usually dislike it a little too much.

I am sarcastic to hide my old grandpa bitterness.

I don't want to get hurt so I put on my "hard" external cover.

(Well as hard as a blonde teenage girl's cover can be)

I act like it doesn't matter to me. But we all really know the truth...

Phase 3:

Shock.

I may start liking this thing.

And that scares me!

I don't know whether to keep on moving on with my life or completely stop.

This is the confusion state.

And the one that I am constantly in.

I don't know how to make choices.

So this is that hardest phase for me.

Phase 4:

Acceptance.

Usually I am happy with my choice.

I am happy that this experience happened, whether it affected me positively or negatively.

I am grateful for the experience.

I learned something.

YES.

I am going through these phases right now.

But I can't tell you why. *couch cough* men.

And I can't tell you which phase I'm in. *cough cough* I really can't.

Where's a pause button when you need one?

-SAYAM.

Awkward Mondays.

Most of you know me as Sam.
I know myself as awkward.
Look at these pictures, if they aren't the epitome of awkward then butter my butt and call me a biscuit.
This is what I feel like. My life is being bombarded with books.
Not only books but TEXTbooks. AKA the Hitler of all books.

AP Bio textbook-1267 pages

ASL textbook-183 pages

ASL textbook #2-512 pages

Honors English 11 textbook-1511 pages

Precalc textbook-532 pages

Total: 4,005 pages.

That's one big Hitler.

I love reading.

Just not when it's about stuff like AP Bio.

Here is a little excerpt of my AP bio book:

"The vasoconstriction factor, which Yanagisawa named endothelin, is a peptide that contains 21 amino acids. Two disulfide bridges between cyseines stabilize the peptide structure."

Boring. I know.

Could some handsome man come save me from these textbooks?

I feel as if I am going to be eaten alive, and all I need to survive is Prince Charming

on his trusty steed, Lighting, or whatever his trust steed's name is. To come and

rescue me from being swallowed alive.

I'm ever so slowly drowning in these words of nonsense.

Speaking of men.

Is it possible to become a Mormon nun?

I'm so sick of asking myself the what ifs.

Instead. I'm going to start saying screw it.

I'm 16.

I love life.

Yes. Boys do make it more enjoyable.

But, I'm 16.

Easy as that.

Monday.

The biggest waste of 1/7 of my life. All I do on Monday is...nothing.

It's dreary and puts me in a bad mood.

I HATE YOU.

Sorry I had to be so harsh.

I love you..? No.

Now that I have ineffectively studied for four tests I'm going to try and get some beauty

sleep. Ps. Does it really make you more beautiful or do you just feel prettier because

you got better sleep? Hmm. That's a good question.

Sleep tight.

-Sawkardam.

Mean friends.

These are my friends.

Don't worry. I have more.

Or do I...?

Meet Ashley and Quinci.

You already know me, so I don't need the introduction about how great and wonderful I am that I usually get when being introduced. Totally kidding. Usually, when people introduce me this is how it goes down:

This is Sam. She's Rich's daughter.

....

Sad.

Then people look at me, thoughts about me being blonde and tall

go through their head then they leave.

HELLO?

I'm a fun time! Get to know me!

Anyways.

Meet Ashley and Quinci.

Somehow I weaseled my way right into their friendship and I sure hope they don't mind.

I love them, and hopefully the feeling is mutual.

Sometimes I think they just befriended me for comic relief. Most people do.

No. They are the best. And I don't know what I would do without them.

They keep me sane.

Or make me more insane.

Who knows.

So there is a system. The Triangle.

And it's a triangle of mean.

It's at a slight angle. And guess who is on top?

Right now. I am. And I usually am on top.

Then it goes Quinci. Sometimes she claims the top spot. But only sometimes.

Finally Ashley is on the bottom of the triangle, and she will never get to the top. Ever.

Why am I on the top?

I'm the meanest! I don't get it. Just because I'm sarcastic, witty, and tend to mock

does NOT mean I deserve the top spot. I just like to be outgoing, okay?

I think my niceness and love of people should even out the meanness, and I should be numba 2.

How am I nice? Um. When we drive in Darla and stop at a stop light

I'm nice enough to roll down the windows, turn up the music, and sing on the top of my lungs so that the people next to us can hear my lovely singing.

Isn't that so kind of me?!

(Ps. About two years ago my NICE grandma told me I suck at singing. Ouch.)

Sometimes if I feel extra nice I talk to them and compliment their good looks.

Oh boy. I deserve an award or something.

Quinci. She is just like me, except to for the car thing.

She is super sarcastic.

And sometimes she does this thing when a couple people are having a conversation she stands like two feet away, folds her arms, and stares. Now that I think about it,

Ashley does that also. I love it.

That's a little mean right?

Sometimes she gains the top spot, but usually I take it back in less than five minutes.

Ashley. She is just nice. Well when you compare her to Quinci and myself she is.

When you compare her to a normal person

she seems like the bully you never had.

Ps. Ashley. You know I'm kidding. (Proof that I deserve the top of the triangle.)

The meanest thing she does?

Punches people.

Don't get me wrong. Punching is not good. But would you rather have a playful punch once in a while or a person who is going to be sarcastic towards every little word you say?

My point exactly.

You should befriend them.

They need more friends.

Thank you for being the girls that I..

Cuddle with.

Cry with.

Eat junk food with.

Have sonic runs with.

Talk about periods and such with. (If that makes you uncomfortable, grow up. PERIODS.)

Hate people with.

Am nuns with.

Holds hands with.

Cheer at football games with. (My personal favorite.)

Drive with.

Sing with.

Love boys with.

Make fun of people with.

Talk to my mother with.

Dance with.

Laugh with.

So thanks. (:

Ps.

Don't ever watch a Walk to Remember with us.

It will result in Ashley and me sobbing like babies and Quinci laughing because she can't cry.

Love you!

-The top of the Triangle.

Hot mess.

Migraines. Love them. For all of you lucky souls that have never experienced them, curse you! All of seventh grade I had them. I missed almost all of third and fourth..What is that word. Half of a semester? I'm literally sitting here, trying to figure this out. Oh wow. I'm embarrassed. I could have just stopped typing, and made you thought that I knew what it is called. But I'm going to be true to you and your mom. TERM! finally.

Anyways...

I missed a lot of school because of these constant migraines. Migraines are pretty much headaches on steroids. They are the most dreadful feeling in the entire world. And makes you want to puke.

This morning.

Whaa Whaa Whaa. My alarm goes off, causing me to wake up from a truly fantastic dream. (Yes, my alarm does sound like that.) My alarm clock is at the foot of my bed, resulting in me leaping on top of it and bitterly pressing the snooze button. BAM. It hit me. After gaining conciseness, my body decided to remind me that I had a migraine. Instead of the sandman who whisks me away to dreamland I get good ole' Migraineman, aka. Satan who makes my veins swell and my head to pound. I roll off of my bed and into the shower. At this point there was no turning back. The shower was on, and I was in it. I had to quickly take a shower, but I felt like everything was in motion. And when I would reach for the shampoo I was actually grabbing that little ball thing. You know that thing with the fabric all bunched up and ahh.. never mind. Well anyways. I grabbed that thing. It was like I was old and on drugs. So I got out of the shower. Got dressed went to downstairs to my parents room. Complained to my mom. Laid down on her bed and was out in a matter of seconds. I woke up, my mom was gone and it was noon. Hallelujah my migraine was gone. I went to school looking like a freakin babe. Let me tell ya.

So that is what I looked like today. Babe status right there. Good thing I don't really care about boys and such. Or else I would be extremely embarrassed. Ps. look at my feet, they are probably whiter than a dentist's teeth.

You should all be jealous of what I looked like today. I mean honestly.

Headband/head wrap thing.

Not sure what to call it. Some people actually think it is a bandage. It's pink! Silly. It just covers up my hair, in order to make it look like less of a mess. But really you know the truth of what is going down under the headband... Chaos. If I took that off, and took out my ponytail all hell would brake loose. I don't just have bed hair, I have bed head. Yes, there is a difference.

Lucky Shirt.

Good things happen when I wear this shirt. I still just have to figure out what that is...

anyways. It's a freakin unreal shirt. I mean look at it! You want to be me.

Jeggings.

Fake jeans. Jeans + Leggings = Jeggings or Leans.... Synthetic tubes in which I force my legs into in order to have the illusion of a ridiculously pair of tight jeans. But in reality, these have become loose, so they lower their status to regular skinny jeans.

Toms.

These rare toms have a hole in the right toe. (I don't know if they are really rare, I doubt they are, but I have never seen another person with them) An extraordinarily comfortable pair of canvas slippers that offer little to none arch support. They are also high end Kung-Fu slippers. They are favorites among people who want to be "hipsters" and yet still kick butt with their awesome Kung-Fu skills.

So yes.

Pretty much I was the epitome of a hot mess.

Cya L8TR

-Sam "Saggie Jeans"

Don't tease me when I'm in my corner.

The last post was quite depressing.

So I've decided to go outside my little comfort box

----

1 1

----

(That is my little box of comfort)

(yes. It did take me forever to make that. I'm blonde. Remember?)

And write a serious post without being sarcastic and mean in anyway.

What a joke.

Sarcasm.

My "mask".

In Honors English we were talking about masks. *Light Bulb* Mine is sarcasm. Masks cover up who you really are and give you this overwhelming confidence to do things you usually wouldn't.

We discussed people like the KKK and their masks not only being real ones, but also symbolic. Do you think half of those people would commit the crimes that they were committing if their personal identity wasn't covered up? I think not. Please do not think that I am comparing my sarcasm to the KKK. They are nothing alike! My sarcasm is a mask to me in the way of which I can treat people. Pretty awful huh? I'm not really a mean person per say, but most people do have to create this... acquired taste in order to get along with me and actually be my friend. I tend to use sarcasm a lot. And if you can't handle that, then leave me alone and you are one serious child and need to learn how to loosen up.

If you are my friend on Facebook, you will soon find that my profile pictures coordinate with my blog posts. Woohoo.

I love my friends. (Not saying that in a sarcastic manner at all. Pinky Promise.)

Ps. Spell check is telling me that I spelled pinky wrong. Dear spell check people, are you idiots?!

Pss. Looked up pinky on google. It isn't even a real word! A pinky finger is really called the "little finger". How dumb is that? I little finger promise. I'm going to start saying that, and if you will join me in my strike against pinky fingers say aye!

Aye!

Alright now that we are all on the same page.

I really really like my friends.

I don't want to sound like I'm "emotionally attached" to them. (Yes it is put in quotation marks for a reason).

But I am. I don't know what I would do without them.

I would probably change my name to Darka Springkiller.

Hide in corners at school, rock back and forth.

And sing songs to myself. Oh and those little ants too.

Then people would make fun of me and I would have the ants eat them like in the awful movie, Indiana Jones # 4.

Just talking to my friends brighten my whole day. I am so grateful to have such amazing friends that tell me that everything is going to be eh okay. Now, I understand I do need to have reality slapped in my face once in a while, and they are perfectly good at that also. Trust me.

If you are named Darka Springkiller and need a friend, you can have one of mine, preferably Quinci.

*Kidding*

So thank you friends. For dealing with my silly little sarcasm mask. And just me being Sam, and such.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

-Darka Springkiller

PS. SO excited for Christmas! I've been listening to Christmas music for the last two weeks!