Tag Archive | Doctor Who

Still Alive *let the world rejoice*



It’s always hard to come back after a long absence. This much has been demonstrated by the string of ill-fated train-wrecks released by Psy since Gangnam Style rocked the world. I don’t know if I can keep writing with the gusto I did a year ago, and I’m quite worried that I’ll let you guys down. Heck, I don’t even know if anyone will read this, I have been told that if one stops blogging regularly, one loses a great deal of readership. People of the ultimate achievement of Spiderman (get it? the Web. oh dear, what am I saying), I don’t want to end up like Psy, which is why I intend to make my return to the world of blogging as triumphantly as possible. There’s only one problem: when I try to be triumphant, I usually end up doing something stupid and causing the severe embarrassment of everyone around me, while I stare at the results of my so-called triumph and wonder where the fudge I went wrong. So this time, instead of proudly prancing around before tripping and falling down the stairs (which, um, never happened *gag*), I’m going to triumph by slowly easing back into The Mostly Confused Teenager, hopefully as easily as Rory Williams comes back to life every time he dies.

For the past few months, I have been a nerdy, anti-social recluse. Now this has been caused partly by the great deal of exams I have had to take and partly by the power of procrastination, which lately has been taking the form of Game of Thrones episodes. I had finals in April, the SAT in June and the first part of my baccalaureate strangling me from behind until a few days ago. Over this period of time I became a pale, weak version of an apricot, who’s sad life consisted of getting up having slept an average of 5 hours, struggling through the morning, working at lunch, looking like a zombie in the afternoon and going straight to the library after classes until it closed. I thank the great cookie in the sky that I was too busy to blog, otherwise The Mostly Confused Teenager would have been replete with inspiring statements to be read in overly melodramatic voices such as:
“The wind and rain are howling and lashing inside my soul”
“My one comfort is knowing that the world will still have cookies once I’m gone” or even
“I will only be happy again once the Mets have won the World Series”
Depressing huh? It was a dark time for good old CT, and when I got to the point where I was relying on a completely hopeless team for happiness I realized that I needed to snap out of it.

So, ladies, gentlemen, both, neither and aliens, here I am; on vacation and back to my old if slightly more wrinkled self. And as I age with as much grace and wisdom as Yoda (shh. no comment. let me live out my dream); return to blogging I will.

Live long and prosper \V/
The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: Happy 4th of July to all you ‘Muricans out there. May you overdrink, overeat and overspend in peace and freedom.

Time Is Running Out

Well, not really. I mean time can’t actually run anywhere, nor can it suddenly die from a cookie overdose (sh*t happens), but you get the point. At the start of a new school year, I realized that I’m a junior, which means that at the current moment in time, I have less than two years before I go off to University and leave my home forever. And frankly, the thought of moving on with my life scares me a whole lot.

When I was a little girl, I had no concept of time. Some people, namely my mother, would argue that I still don’t, but it has come to my attention how much my appreciation of the timey-wimey wibbly-wobbly stuff has changed (DOCTOR WHO REFERENCE). At the age of six or seven I had no fixed timetable, no calendar to look at and remind myself that I had an orthodontist appointment the day before which I missed (Oops, oh well. *doesn’t care*). School was school, and it went on until my mom told me it was time for vacation and that I’d only come back in two weeks. I never knew that my last day of 1st grade was the last day, I only knew when I didn’t have to get up too early for my organism to handle the next day. Summer vacation was eternity, each day stretching out with limitless possibility, succeeding the last with equal importance. My mother’s birthday (the 22nd of August) which now seems abominably close to the end was just a random event in the long fabric of vacation. One day, it was time to go back to the world of books and number two pencils, and that transition was made without question. I was not in control.

As I got older, time started speeding up. I knew when school started and when it ended. When vacations came around I always looked forward to the first day of lying around in bed in a cocoon of warmth and coziness with glee, wishing the end would never arrive. During the summer I kept a conscious eye on the date at all times, measuring out the time I had left. Heck, I probably spend more time worrying about what things will be like when something ends than enjoying it while it happens.

Even though they have been filled with quite interminable math and latin classes, the last two years have flown by. On the first day of school you think; “Oh man this year is going to be soooo long, I don’t know how I’ll ever survive the boredom of lessons everyday. Better warn my unicorn to be ready each afternoon so that I can at least ride home in style”. And then, BAM, before you know it, you’re laughing and crying on the last day, swearing eternal friendship and wishing fervently that you were still the awkward new kid (although let’s face it, you still are and will always be, the awkward new kid).

This teenager has one terrifying question on her mind at the moment: if time has sped up so much in the past few years, where will things be at in, say, ten? Will a month then be equal to a day now? Does time keep speeding up until you’re whizzing around at the speed of a deranged giraffe? I’ll admit, I’m scared of what will happen. I guess that it’s important for me to remember that change can be good and that holding onto the past is not always the right path of action to take. Whatever metaphorical deer rush into my headlights, I’ll make sure that they’re all right in the end.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

Superstition Ain’t the Way

But… but… I can’t help it Stevie! I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to let a black cat cross the road in front of me while I have full control of my mental capabilities; as in not stoned, drunk, or with any cute boy. Now that I think about it it really is animal cruelty to avoid black cats, they must be befuddled as to why people go out of their way to not come across them. I would hate to be a black cat’s shrink. And to all of those people saying “wow, she’s being really silly, their are no shrinks for cats”, I give you; total and utter effing madness.

I’m not crazy, I don’t have voodoo dolls that I keep in my closet or consult my horoscope with carrot-like precision, but I will handle a mirror with the utmost care, and when it comes to finger crossing, I am a pro. If I’m feeling particularly nimble I even cross my toes (TMI? TMI.). Based on experience I have concluded that I cannot find anything that I’ve lost without begging my cat and/or my dog for it. Yes, dear strangers of the Internet, that is sort of sad, but they get a kibble out of the deal and I get my stuff. Nobody’s complaining.

The other day I caught myself standing under a ladder, trying to see if it was solid or not. The result of this expedition was a look of horror frozen on my face as I lay on the ground, pinned under the ladder which was clearly not anchored well enough against the wall. Duh. I wasn’t hurt, mostly hungry, I suddenly realized that I reaaally wanted a snack (Does that ever happen to you? Wanting a snack in the wrong place? Oh dear that somehow sounds very strange. Am I getting off topic? Again?) but the small example of how my superstitions were affecting me made me question every person who told me that it was complete sugar. –> replacement word for ‘shit’. Oh I just said it, now there’s really no point in having replaced it is there?

My superstitious crap has gotten me into some awkward situations over the years. I have this one rule that says that when I walk under scaffolding, I can’t blink. The result of this is that a lot of people tend to stare at the weird girl who’s trying desperately not to close her eyes, in the process forgetting to breathe and ending up choking her way out into the open. But so far my life has been pretty darn good, so I’ll just keep being socially awkward and YOU just keep petting unicorns.

Although like any other teenager I have my wild and crazy moments where all judgment disappears and I turn into a hunk of raging hormones, I’m usually a goody two shoes. I’m the one who will remind people of the rules and be against doing anything rash or illogical (yes, watching Spock and Star Trek has ruined me). Just seeing the word “ain’t” in the title of this post is giving me the jitters. Don’t say ain’t or your mother will faint and your father will step in a pot of paint. Not very likely, and yet! I believe that if I do something morally wrong, the karmic retributions (FANCY WORDS HIGH FIVE) will be severe. Why? I can’t figure it out — I’m… confused. What else is new right?

Nonetheless, I won’t think twice about tackling you before you open that umbrella inside. I can’t toast with water because it’s against an old Hungarian wives tale. Since Friday the 13th is bad luck in some places and good luck in others, on that day I slink around in a disoriented fashion wishing it were the next day already. I want something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue at my wedding; a Doctor in a blue box would do just fine. If I find a penny, I will pick it up (although I have to point out that most people would, it is money after all). A wishbone wish is of the greatest importance to me. I always take an extra big breath of air before blowing out candles on a birthday cake. I have to wish for something in the 10 seconds after I’ve seen a shooting star. I knock on wood a lot. Holy cow on a cracker does that ever sound wrong.

And as for the picture of pure eye candy, you’re quite welcome 🙂

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: I realize it may have made more sense for me to post this on Friday the 13th, but I don’t want to wait two weeks. So there.