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How to Get Ready in a BIG hurry

For effing school.I don’t often oversleep, but when I do, it’s bad. This morning was the first time that I needed an alarm clock all summer and guess what moron slept right thru it and almost missed her train? My brother. Crap that doesn’t make any sense. OK OK it was me. During the school year I make sure to get up an hour before I have to leave, do nothing for 45 minutes and then dash around collecting myself in the last 15 minutes. Granted, I always end up arriving at school in a daze at the last possible second, but HEY! I MAKE IT.

Of course as the new school year is about to start I have made a whole lot of meaningless resolutions about not going on Facebook or checking the score of the game in the mornings, but I know full well that I’ll never keep them. It’s just fun to think that I might not have to run around like a madwoman tripping over dogs and getting attacked by cats because I look like one big glob of edible something or other darting about at the speed of light.

Here are my secrets to getting ready fast.

#1: Prepare your bag and outfit the day before

I’ve done this about… um… once, and it truly saves you a huge amount of time in the morning, if you’re willing to do it. Because I am a naturally lazy person, I am not. This refusal to comply with my mother’s constant reminders ends in the dismal fact that I always forget something important and that nothing fragile can ever survive in my bag. Although to be fair that might also have something to do with the fact that I have two heavy rocks at the bottom of it. Why? I picked them up on a beach in Cassis and my friend and I swore our friendship over them. Yes, we were two crazy teenagers who took the rocks into class and wrote our names on them. Deal with it. As for the outfit part of this suggestion, I generally spend way too long trying different things on (first world problems right?). The best day is when I have nothing left but a top, a pair of jeans and a hoodie in my closet, at which point my selection becomes so much easier. So basically, if I don’t do my laundry I save time. My mom would love this. [Sheldon Cooper sarcasm sign]

#2: Things don’t go well if you decide to start making pancakes 20 minutes before you have to leave.

Especially if you’re still in your pajamas, hair shooting in all directions and eyes barely open. This has happened to me, because who wouldn’t want some delicious, creamy, sweet pancakes piping hot off the griddle before school? No one. Unless of course you are a person who promotes healthy living and eats a breakfast of fruit and yogurt (oh look Mom, you’re in the post again!), in which case you are an exception –> quick interlude here, how DO you do it? It sounds so… so… I can’t even find the words. Now some of you might have been blessed with parents who put an assortment of breakfast foods out on the table the night before; I was not, my parents are the “figure your sh*t out by yourself” type. The best bet is to know beforehand what you are going to have for breakfast so that you won’t stand around making a mental selection in front of the fridge for 10 minutes.

#3: Drink

Alcoholic beverages are not recommended, but a strong cup of coffee or tea might just make you look and feel alive enough to drag yourself through the house collecting your stuff before lumbering off to school/work. I must warn though that this pointer is not for everyone. By this I mean that if I drink coffee in the morning, I turn into a hyperactive panda with wide eyes who can’t stand still, and although being a panda can be quite nice, it’s best not to be one just before a big math test.

#4: Makeup, in perspective, is not important

For all the girls out there going “Whaaat?!”, I feel just like you, but let’s lay it out. Would you rather have your teacher humiliate you in front of the whole class while you wish you were home, in bed with a cup of hot chocolate and a cookie; or go an hour looking naturally weird before you can make a run for the bathroom? Your choice. I choose spending first period looking like a Confused Teen all while wishing that I was at home, in bed with a cup of hot chocolate and a cookie. It’s the best of both worlds.

#5: Keep your wits about you

The worst thing you can do is panic like I do. As luck will often have it, the morning when you need to get ready the fatest also happens to be the morning when you look like a lethargic chimpanzee. Whatever you do though, make sure it doesn’t involve running around in circles effectively doing nothing. This rountinely causes extra stress which frizzles my hair; yes, when I’m really stressed out it appears as if a bird made it’s nest on my head, bad breath (to my dismay I found out that a mint does NOT replace toothpaste), hyperventilation, choking on the piece of toast you’re trying rather unsuccesfully to shove down your throat, dizziness and even death, if all of these things happen at the same time. Keep calm and eat a cookie! Well, you might not have time to eat a cookie, but stay composed anyway.

Upon further reflection of these five suggestions I find that me myself and I, author of this post, does not respect any of them. And since I am the very model of horrible organization, I can only conclude that if one were to follow these rules, that person might actually have a chance of getting out of life alive. Hold on now, that doesn’t make any sense. If one were to follow these rules, that person might actually have a chance of getting out of the house on time without looking like a puddle of melted jello. Better?

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: This post was inspired by one over at Parisianettes, check it out here: http://parisianettes.blogspot.fr/2013/08/getting-ready-fast-in-morning-for-school_25.html

*awkward singing* You’ve Got a Friend in Me

My friends are an extremely important part of my life. I haven’t always had them, and I guess that that makes me all the more grateful for the ones I do have. They’re always there for me, whether it’s to listen to me rant, help me with a difficult math problem (UGH) or buy me a pack of cookies and slip it to me in class when I miss lunch. I have the best friends in the Universe, and I love them all to bits.

From 1st to 3rd grade I went to a tiny country school  in Normandy with about 30 kids in total, ranging from 2 year old’s just starting to get weaned off their mothers to 12 year old’s getting ready to graduate to middle school. We were separated into 3 different classrooms and all shared a small recess court with a sandbox in the corner. Being a small number of students, we were all friends. We had our fair share of trivial yelling matches and feuds, but all in all, we were a tight knit community. That was before anyone had Facebook or anything, and the school was shut down by the government soon after I left, so I never found out what happened to a lot of my old friends.

I left in the middle of the year because my teacher suicided. No one knows why, but they found his burning car on the edge of a cliff. The school being so small, it affected a lot of people, and my parents decided that it wouldn’t be a good thing for me to stay. I moved to a larger school in the closest ‘big city’ about 30 minutes away. Although at first the kids there were all over me, they heard my story and left me alone. I spent most of the second half of 3rd grade pretending that I was a horse and galloping around the recess court. On second thought, maybe people didn’t interact with me because I was weird. Who knows?

In 4th grade I met 3 of my best friends and from then to 6th grade, I experienced my first sleepover, the singing and dancing around the living room, the long hours spent discussing important subjects such as why our 30 year old teacher wasn’t married yet (Was something wrong with her? Why did no one want to marry her? Ah, innocent minds. Of course, she did end up getting married and we felt very pleased with ourselves, as if we’d somehow engineered the whole deal). I love those girls with all my might and I’m glad to be able to call them my friends.

Then, at the start of 7th grade, I moved to Paris. What a shocker that was. I did not want to go. But I made new friends there too, and we spent our time walking around outside in circles until people cataloged us as the crazy girls who had a problem with standing still. We would talk on the phone until 11 pm (were my parents ever mad when they saw the bill) about cute boys that we had spotted during the day, or the sore throat that the principle had that made him sound like Darth Vader. I developed a lot with them, both mentally and um… *blushes* physically.

Last year, I had to leave them too to go to my first bilingual school, the EABJM, where I am now. And once again, I’ve met the most awesomesauce people. I love being able to mix English and French in a way that doesn’t work at all, spending math class listening to my friend make boat noises, and trying to get our fingers to go through the table in Physics because our teacher told us that there was an itsy bitsy possibility that that could happen. Hint: don’t waste your time. We spent hours trying, it doesn’t work.

Friends are fun. Friends are loving. Friends tell you your hair looks fine even though you have concrete proof that it looks like a bird got caught in it and wrestled its way out. Friends comfort you when you’re feeling down. Friends are crazy. Friends are like stars, even though sometimes you can’t see them, you know they’re there. You can make fun of your friends and they won’t care (most of the time ^^). Friends don’t care (and are grateful) that you’re not Sheldon Cooper. Friends will never give up on you, despite your weird obsession with cookies and sports. Friends are awesome.

Friends are people who you meet on your blog and feel instantly connected to. In a totally non creepy way. I’ll leave you with a quote from a certain philosophical little kangaroo in Winnie the Pooh: “Friends can be new, Friends can be old; all of them are as precious as Gold.”

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

Spelling it out

Oh the irony...

Oh the irony!

As a little American girl growing up in a foreign country, my parents were practically neurotic about teaching me the language that they had grown up with: English. Now I never had any issues speaking English, I have a bona fide American accent, but spelling and grammar were more difficult, because I was learning two languages at the same time. See French and English are two very different languages with different sets of rules, yet some words, such as marriage (in French; mariage) are annoyingly similar.

So I was brought up in the cult of good spelling, and I suppose reading a lot of Calvin and Hobbes helped somewhat (you’d be surprised what a six year old and his stuffed tiger can teach you about life). Everything was going perfectly according to my parents quiet scheme until 6th grade. With 6th grade came great responsibility. Sort of. In the form of a giant Nokia brick that I loved with all my might. All it could do was call, text and let me play snake, but it was enough for me. I discovered the wonderful world/time sink that is technology.

I started texting with my friends in an abbrieviated language form. “Ne t’inquiète pas” (don’t stress your pumpkin juice don’t worry) became “tkt”. In English, “see you at four” was transformed into “c u @ 4″. At first, I freakin’ loved it. I felt cool and hip. My very smart parents, seeing what was happening, yelled at/alerted me that my french spelling grades were slipping fast and threatened to cut off my cookie supply if I didn’t fix things. This being, of course, unacceptable, I started writing the full words in my text messages. Some people thought is was lame, but looking back, I couldn’t be happier that I started writing correctly again, because seeing how some of our world is spelling today, I’m rather scared for generations to come.

I’m not saying that I’m perfect, on the contrary, I make mistakes like everybody else, but seeing my baby (um… 14 year old) brother asking a girl out by proposing ‘wana go sea a movi?” on Facebook makes me sad, worried and angry all at the same time.

Am I taking this too far and over-dramatizing the situation?

Dear readers, thank you for listening to my rant. It means a lot. In other news, I got A* on my IGCSE (international GCSE) so I’m really proud right now! Next year, SAT. Ugh.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.


Dear wise readers,

Enlighten me, what is the point of twitter? I stayed up late (it’s 4 am in France) rewatching the Mets win that first game after 9/11, so I decided not to blog tonight. And yet as I lay in my bed, contemplating the meaning of life and other deep thoughts such as the unthinkable fact that my chocolate stash is now depleted, I kept coming back to Twitter, and it’s reason for existence.

From what I can see, it’s basically just a social network for celebrities. Famous people tweet what they’re doing and everyone gets super excited that Eminem is eating Jello. Is that true? Am I catastrophically wrong? Do normal people actually interact on Twitter?

The only other reason I can come up with is using it for professional reasons. My mom has a Twitter account that she seems to use a lot, but it’s all about computer chips and semiconductor and other things that I don’t understand 😉 

Lastly, if the hashtag has now come to Facebook, what is Twitter’s standout feature? 

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: Am I the only one who thinks that the Facebook hashtag is incredibly lame?

PPS: Happy Birthday to one of my best friends, who turns 16 today. I love you Parmesan! ❤

Social Media: Extra (unnecessary) Stress

theemarketingmaven.comI love Facebook. One could almost say that I’m addicted; and because it’s my home page, every time I open Firefox it pops up on the screen. Now I could be smart and change my homepage but for some reason I just can’t bring myself to do it. When I go on Youtube or Deezer or whatever to play music, I can’t help checking out what new things have come up in my suggestions box. And I don’t know if texting is considered social media, but I spend waaay too much time sending sms’ to my friends. I’m a sort of a *gulp* social media junkie. And yet I’m not on that many sites, I don’t have Twitter for example, but the amount of time spent each day on the mediums that I do use is enormous. And as a side effect and/or consequence, it causes a lot of extra stress.

First of all, there’s the fear of not supplying enough data. I have friends and family overseas who’s only way of keeping in touch with me is through Facebook, and I sometimes feel like I’m letting them down if I’m not posting enough. Extra stress. It’s hard to gauge the right amount of stuff (and what stuff!) that you should share with the world. Do I care that your hamster suddenly developped a love of soup and that you’re celebrating by eating a cherry? Heck no! (but frankly, if you’re going to celebrate anything at all, eat more than one cherry) Do I care that you got into Princeton? Heck yes! I know I chose extreme examples but it’s just to reinforce my point 😉

Speaking of winky faces (is that how you say it?), texting and messenging has made me use more emoticons than any person should. Ever. I used to be able to communicate without constantly inserting smiley faces into the conversation, but in our modern, tech savvy world I seem to have lost that ability. And I do get worried that putting them in posts such as this one makes me seem tacky. Extra stress.

Texting has made me turn paranoid. If I’m talking with a boy I like, I instantly start over-analysing the messages he’s sent me, causing a million questions to swirl around in my head. Extra stress. Of course then I feel compelled to wait a few minutes before responding because I don’t want to seem as if I was clinging to my phone waiting for him to text me. Which I probably was. Extra stress. Finally, if I’m using a medium where I can see whether or not someone’s read my message and they have but haven’t answered I get all flustered. Extra stress.

Ah yes, first world problems. Silly things.

All I can advise is; eat a sandwich, lie in the sun, go for a walk, live a little! And does this advice apply go me too? Absolutely, and I’m going to take it. Right after I check Facebook once more. And my phone. And email. And… sh*t.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

The woes of a procrastinator

I am, without a doubt, a very adept procrastinator. I’m constantly saying “oh, I’ll do this later”. Later, I either forget or put it off until the next day. It’s really quite a vicious circle. The fact is, I have a very hard time getting things done, and for a high schooler with a busy enough life, this is dangerous.

My biggests problems are social media (Facebook) and TV shows. As soon as I get home after school I turn on my computer. I plant the excuse that I’m doing so so I can start my homework,  as much of it requires research and typing papers, but my asshole of a subconscious knows full well why I’m clicking on the Firefox icon. I can spend hours watching reruns of Friends and How I Met Your Mother, scrolling through Facebook and looking at cute clothes online that I clearly can’t afford.

As a result, I often find myself going to bed at 2 or 3 am, if at all. There have been times when I’ve bipassed my mom and stayed up all night furiously trying to write a paper for English class that was assigned 3 weeks ago. I sometimes skip lunch to work on homework that hasn’t been done yet, only to find that the teacher is absent (man, I really hate when that happens). It’s gotten rough. And from what the school announced about the always increasing homework load for next year, it’s only going to get worse.

But for now, it’s summer vacation, so I can blog and read and watch and scroll as much as I want. My parents are always telling me that I have horrible time management issues. Yeah, well I blame them! At least I’m not procrastinating in the food domain. Nope, I’d do anything for the sweet, rich, gooey taste of a chocolate chip cookie in my mouth. That’s not at all weird right?

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.