Tag Archive | San Francisco

My life would make a sh*tty movie

(c)TitineetMilou

(c)TitineetMilou

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.

The Magic of an Accent

When I was singing Tubthumping/I Get Knocked down (weird name, weird lyrics but horribly catchy) earlier today I noticed that I was adapting my voice so that I sang with a British accent. Now I think it’s important to understand that I have a stereotypical American accent, without any twists. I’m not sure what part of the United States it comes from, although I’m guessing that it’s a mix of New York, Boston and San Francisco, transmitted to me via my obliging parents.

Yet even being an American teenager living in Paris I still find a foreign accent perfectly thrilling to listen to. It sounds exotic and exciting and because of the whole “the grass is greener on the other side” thing, I always tend to think that foreigners are, in general, better people than the ones I find here.

Here are a couple of the accents that I, in a rather clichéd fashion, adore the most.

#1 : French

I’m putting French first more in loyalty to my country than anything else, but it still means that I’ll be able to fire a quick retort at any snarky politician who accuses expats of not being patriotic enough. Not that that will ever happen per say, but you can never be too sure. French is known as the language of love, and for a visitor, a visibly distraught French citizen struggling to make you understand that the rind on a Saint Nectaire cheese can be eaten safely is extraordinarily sexy.

#2 : British

My friends and I have this ‘game’ where we walk around for a couple hours speaking only with British accents, holding our pinky fingers up and holding our heads so high that they are in danger of being permanently stuck that way; the position is so uncomfortable. And yet melting down the entire population of the UK into one accent and attitude is seriously fun, though I can’t figure out why for the life of me. Then there’s the guys. There is nothing hotter than a boy speaking with a sophisticated sounding British voice. Once again, why? Once again, no idea. All I know is that I have this preconceived idea that any British boy will be willing to sit and listen patiently to my whining while offering me tea and crumpets as opposed to an American boy who would probably (and rightly) tell me to f*ck the hell off. So British boy, come to CT. Ugh, that sounded weird.

#3 : Canadian

This one I’m pretty certain came more from How I Met Your Mother than anywhere else, so in reality I’m not sure how life-like it is, so to all my Canadian readers, I am sincerely sourry if I am putting forth a false portrayal of your wonderful accent. The Canadian accent is awesome because you can hear it in both languages: English and French. I have a friend who speaks (French) with a Canadian accent and in that Canadian way, not exactly wording things the way that we would or saying things that make sense to us. Nonetheless, whether it’s in French or in English, the Canadian accent is delightful because it’s familiar and yet very different at the same time.

So now that I have successfully degraded three accents, I will go to bed and read aboot a lady who kills her psychoanalyst for the sole reason that he annoys her. Aaaaah, summer reading in high school…

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

The Versatile Blogger Award (<– Whaaaaat)

Holy cow on a cracker, I’ve been nominated for an award 🙂 I figured I might as well do it so my awesome audience can know a little bit more about me! Or they might just, you know, not care. I’m taking a chance on this one! I have to thank the lovely Attempting Reality for nominating me, you guys should check out her blog, it’s funny, quirky and generally amazeballs amazing.

Here are the rules:

– Display the Award Certificate on your blog (with great pleasure)

– Link back to the person who nominated you (HA, I would have done that anyway, she’s awesome)

– Present 15 awards to 15 deserving bloggers (I’ve only been blogging for two weeks, but I’ll try!)

– Leave them a comment to let them know after you have linked them to a post. (on their ‘about’ page?)

– Post 7 interesting things about yourself. (crap. 7 interesting things? that many?)

OK, so 7 interesting things. Suck it up Confused Teen (I would put my name, but I’m conserving anonymity on the big bad Internet), and think. In case you were wondering, yes, I often give myself pep talks. And if you weren’t, well… well… I have no words. Anywho, here goes.

1. I have a weird obsession with cookies and sports. Have you noticed?

2. I was born in the same clinic where the French first lady (at the time, Carla Bruni) had her baby and passed it everyday for years on my way to school. I feel special right? Not.

3. I lived in San Francisco from the age of 2 months to 6 years. Because our (pink) house was in West Portal on a hill where it was always foggy, my mom would bundle me up in sweaters and turtlenecks before school in the morning, only to go down into the valley to find that the sun was blazing and it was sweltering hot. Ironically enough, she didn’t stop doing that when she found out about the weather differences. Now I’m thinking she was out to get me.

4. I have never spent more than 3 years in a school, and I won’t before college. I always held it against my parents that we moved around so much, but now I realize that if we hadn’t, I would have never met all the amazing people that are in my life today *dabs tissue daintily against eye and blows nose like a trumpet*

5. I never eat much when I’m not home, but when I am I eat waaaay to much. I then feel guilty about it, and eat some more. At this point I usually get called out to play baseball or football because my mom has noticed that the chocolate chip cookies are all gone and since she’s convinced that a future of lying on a couch eating chips like Honey Boo Boo’s mom awaits me, she feels responsible to ensure that I move around enough. I appreciate her motives, but as a naturally lazy person, I say ugh.

6. I’m claustrophobic, which is one of the reasons that I love the countryside, convertible cars and Field of Dreams. Although it does kind of piss me off that I can’t go in the tube slides at the water park. I wonder if you feel like you’re processed food going down the intestine when you’re inside.

7. I am a perfectionist. If I don’t position my toothbrush exactly right in its holder, I feel like it’s calling me to come back and arrange it again. On second thought, maybe I’m just crazy.

There, if you had the courage and perseverance to read all of that, you now know 7 things about me. I’ll nominate 15 bloggers, and even if they don’t take up the challenge, I think it’s cool that you can see their links and check them out!

http://thehowlingfantogs.wordpress.com

http://questionableradioactivity.wordpress.com

http://floodedroses.wordpress.com/

http://mydaysasme.wordpress.com/

http://mishal99.wordpress.com/

http://keepitcalmandcarryon.wordpress.com/

http://gammagamification.wordpress.com/

http://acuriousgal.wordpress.com/

http://theworldoffluffiness.wordpress.com/

http://smalltownbear.wordpress.com/

http://longlivethemouse.wordpress.com/

http://rejectreality101.wordpress.com/

http://sarahdiariesblog.wordpress.com/

http://iamtoofree.com/

http://curlysblog.wordpress.com/

I’d also like to point out http://girlwiththesilverlocket.wordpress.com/ and http://collegesportstown.com/ as great blogs to follow.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: I didn’t hyperlink the nominees because I’m too lazy. Just thought I’d clear that up.