My life would make a sh*tty movie



I’m standing in the subway, going over the Seine River, staring at a sparkling Eiffel Tower, my nose pressed against the door. It’s most unhygienic and people are looking at me weirdly. In my own fantasy world I’m riding towards a sparkly future, complete with unicorns and giant cookies. The train pitches forward and I collapse onto an elderly gentleman who looks at me as if to say “youth these days…” Back to the present. Ow, my ankle hurts.

See, this is what I do: I imagine that my life is a movie and that everything is going to turn out for the best. Of course this is a big problem because I very much doubt that Ryan Gosling or Ryan Reynolds ( why are they all called Ryan?) is going to show up at my door under the pouring rain, profess his undying love for me and present me with a giant bouquet of roses. Yes, I’m old fashioned, deal with it. Sure, there may be bumps in the road, sort of like in the Empire Strikes Back (anyone who doesn’t instantly know what I’m talking about should be… um… forced to go a week without eating a cookie (I’m being nice 😉 )): sure, the Empire owns the Rebel Alliance just like the Jets owned the Falcons last week and like any and every team who’s played the Giants, but in the end everything ends happily. Well, not happily exactly, I mean Darth Vader could have survived and spent another couple years teaching Luke how to turn on his friends and family, but I suppose it finished the best way that it could. Meanwhile, I’ve gotten off topic. Again. *sigh*

I’m afraid that my life would be rather more like Titanic though. Picture this: CT is, as always late. She runs down the hill to the metro station, hair unbrushed, makeup already smudged. She can hear the train approaching and she knows that there’s a very good chance that she won’t make it (knowing that she’ll be late for school if she takes the later one) so she puts on a final burst of speed and tears through the constraining ticket machines. The beeper on the doors sounds, letting her know that the train is about to leave. She won’t get there on time. BUT WAIT! There’s a hot dude holding the door for her! All is saved! She enters the train just as the doors shut, crashing straight into her [really hot] saviour. Oh oh, the boy has abs. Must. Not. Swoon. After pushing her off him, hot dude goes to sit down, but he keeps glancing at CT with a half curious, half perplexed look on his face. CT is just starting to think that he might ‘like’ her when she catches a glimpse of herself in the window. Yowser. She looks like a past date red pepper (and that is not a comparison that I make lightly believe me): hair sticking up in gravity defying ways, face a vermillion shade of red, weird grin plastered on her face, kind of like the Joker. And then she hears herself. Oopsy daisy, she sounds disturbingly like a parched dog. Well, that explains the staring! End of story.

That’s another thing; I sometimes talk about myself using the 3rd person, as if I were narrating my movie. Normally I don’t think anything of it, but a couple of weeks ago, someone asked me if I was schizophrenic. My answer had to be “nooooo… just crazy”. Quite honestly, if my life were a movie, it would probably be one like Attack of the Killer Tomatoes: under budget, with bad special effects, bad actors and just generally ridiculous. To make it short, my life would make a sh*tty movie.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

30 thoughts on “My life would make a sh*tty movie

  1. I loved this post, and the style of humor! Great blog, btw, I have been following for a few weeks but haven’t gotten around to commenting 🙂

  2. Lady, do you like possess the other half of my brain? Because a) I am way too dumb to be functioning on a full brain and all and b) WE THINK OF THE SAME DARN THINGS and I know teenage life is remotely the same blah! blah! but oh my god! Oh my god!!! It’s like exactly what I think and this is just freaky! Oh my god! Have you read the book “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years”? It’s a book by this guy called Donald Miller and I have only read like 18 pages till now but, I am already in love with it. I write a lot… Missing half brain containing the part that tells you when to stop! Ugh! I’m sorry! XX

    • To your question I can only ask, if I have half of your brain, what the heck are you using mine for? Are you creating evil pineapples with it? Huh? Crap I’m getting agressive again, gotta slow down. Anywho, haven’t read the book but I’ll definitely look out for it!!

  3. Meuuuuuuf t’as vu un mec beau dans le métro? :3 ❤ Bref t'es très belle alors tais toi et écoute moi: primo, il faut vraiment que tu t'organises, le club des mal-organisées doit vraiment fermé, même si ça va nous briser le coeur, il faut pas que t'arrives à la (presque) à la bourre tous les matins; secundo, arrête de lower ta self-esteem! t'es ouf et tu dois admit it. genre vraiment. Tu te rends pas compte à quel point tu te sentiras mieux si tu a plus confiance en toi et que tu arrêtes de penser de toi comme une personne qui aurait la plus shitty life movie ou je sais pas quoi :p Moi je vois ta life movie (ou je sais pas comment tu veux l appeller, (umm "le cookie géant", ca ira? 😉 )):
    Tu vas avoir une journée de merde. mais alors de merrrde. mauvaise note, sous la pluie, pas assez d'argent pour un cookie ou un parapluie, et une masse de devoirs à faire. la définition meme d'une journée de merde quoi. et comme tu es folle, tu vas essayer de sneak sous le parapluie de quelqu'un de random pour pouvoir t'abbriter 30 sec. Le truc c est que tu connais cette personne. Il a un air familier, mais tu ne le reconnais pas. Mais lui, il te reconnais. Tu te dis que c est aps normal qu'un mec aussi beau te connaisse, et tu lui demande d'où il te connait. Il te répond de l'école primaire. Tu te souviens alors de lui, quand il commence a te parler de cookies. Une chose "leadant" à une autre, il finit apr te dire qu'il avait un super gros crush sur toi en primaire, et tu lui répond "quoiiii" et bref (je te laisse imaginer un peu le reste de la convo), jusqu a ce qu'il te propose que vs vs revoyez "un de ces 4" (haha expression de ouff). et évidement, tu lui dis oui.
    Tu rentres chez toi, tu bosses, etc. Tu n'y penses pas trop jusqu a que tu te connectes sur fb et vois sa demande d ami. tu répond et vs commencez à parler pendant des heurees.
    Le lendemain t'es crevée, mais tu te dis que c etait "worth it". Et quelques jours après.. PAM PAM PAMM.. vs vs revoyez, et vs finissez par sortir ensemble. ❤ (And you lived happily ever after etc.)
    bon je te laisse rêver sur ça mais si je te dis que t'es une ouf, c'est parce que tu l'es!
    Bref je vais aller bosser ma SVT, sinon Marie va pas être contente :p ❤
    Je pense que tu sais qui je suis quand même nan.. le club des désorganisées hein? 😉
    Bref bisouss et à demain (oui je m en fous que n importe qui puisse lire ça x) ❤ )

    • Ouiiiii un mec beau dans le metro, j’ai cru que je revais!! Bon alors je vais pas t’ecrire un roman en retour du tien (phrase qui veut rien dire, TANT PIS), mais sache que ca m’a vraiment fait hypeeeer plaisir de lire ce que tu m’as ecrit, ma co-chef du club des mal-organises ❤ et je savais qui tu etais des que j'ai lu le premier mot 😉 bon maintenant je vais aller rever de ton histoire :") je t'aime mon cookie!! ❤

  4. Sorry to say so but I have to talk to my friend Kendall to nominate you for his yearly awards, category best comedy. The story is past now so I hope you’re happy to have made my day 🙂 how are you? Don’t worry too much and leave Paris one day, another place might get you more Ryans 😉
    Have a great day,

  5. Il y a plein de Ryans comme tu dis chez-moi…le problème, c’est qu’ils sont tous des connards! Anyways, amusing story. Much more lighthearted than the Juvenalian ridicules I’ve posted the last few days. It’s like teenager humor, but a lite, more appropriate version.

    • But your stories are always so poignant and you can tell that they come straight from the heart! Anyways, merci beaucoup, it means a lot! Un jour, un jour je trouverai mon Ryan! 🙂

      • Straight from the heart?! I’m glad you see it that way. I know plenty who would have a much different opinion if they knew this blog existed. Ha! But I was more happy to see I had readership that reached France, even if oddly enough it happened to be from an American living there. I guess I wasn’t meant to be a French language blogger!

      • Well isn’t that one of the reasons that they do exist? So that we can write about things the way we want, without people we know judging us? Ah yes, the disappointment in finding out that I am, indeed, American. Si ca aide je peux avoir ma double nationalite cette annee! Je serai officiellement Francaise et Americaine 🙂

      • I suppose so. Mais mon espoir c’était qu’il y avait un français qui lisait mes blogs en français. Mais alors avoir toi qui le lis ce n’est pas si pire–Mes blogs anglais montre ma personnalité bien plus claire, comme la réalité. Quant à moi, c’était le contraire. À 18 ans j’ai du choisi ma nationalité, soit canadienne soit américaine.

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