I know why people don't read my blog. It's because I don't have a topic. I don't blog about one specific topic that people just like to read about. I blog about my life, and apparently that's only interesting to people who know me. I guess it's not enough to just come up with (self-decidedly) clever observations. Unless you're famous. Then you can just write about whatever the hell you want because, well, you have lots of money and maybe a bit of talent.
I've been living with my eyes closed recently. I think I just... Well I'm home for the weekend. And you know how they say when one of your senses is impaired the other ones become sharper? For me, I've seen everything here already. So while I'm home, if I just close my eyes, my singing sounds a little better, Evan's kiss feels a bit deeper, summer smells a bit sweeter, and I can hear the breeze rustle leaves and almost feel cool just because I know it's there (even if it is nearly 100 degrees outside).
I've come to realize recently that if you truly in your heart of hearts don't want to believe in something, nothing can ever make you give in. You will always find fault after fault, even after your arguments become tired.
Last night I had a dream and in it I rapped something fierce. Bo Burnham was there. I told him he could use my stuff if he wanted to.
Tonight my boyfriend and I went to get Chinese for dinner and when we walked in there was a little boy behind the cash register. He was probably 8 or 9. And he was one of the most adorable things I've ever seen! He took our order and punched it in the computer and gave us our change and everything. He was very efficient and did it with a smile and afterwards his mother came out and he showed her that he'd done it correctly and you could just tell he was proud of himself. The best part of it, however, was that behind the register they had a couch where I assume the boy and his older brother chill in down time and on the couch was this book probably 3 or 4 inches thick... Pokémon: Platinum Version. An entire guide to Pokémon. It was so stereotypical, it was adorable. And then on the television they were streaming an anime show called Slam Dunk. And I'm not sure what language it was in, but it wasn't English. But the boy understood it. I heard him speak it with his older brother, too. But he also spoke really good English. I was very impressed with this young man. Anyway, it was cute.
I'm really excited about going back to school because my roommate has a combo VCR/DVD player hooked up to her television, so when I go back I'm taking my classic Disney VHS tapes with me and we're gonna have a party. (:
It was officially decided today: No one, male or female, should ever go commando.
I'm actually really afraid that one day I'm actually going to get to meet Bo Burnham and he's going to be nothing like how I think he is. Although I refuse to think that way. He seems really sincere and sweet. I know he tells people to shut up while he's on stage and whatnot, but I bet one-on-one he's really cool. I mean, who else can use the term "spastic fat chicks" and not sound demeaning even in the slightest? I've never written anyone fan mail, but I think I just might make an exception for Bo. I think he'd appreciate that, anyway, considering he's "all about words, words, words" and a handwritten letter, well, who doesn't like getting those in the mail?
You know, I'm really just kind of fooling myself into thinking I'm the only one that wants to sit down and actually have a conversation with him. I want to know what his favorite book is. Who his favorite poet is. If he likes playing guitar or piano more. I want to talk to him about religion and understand the details of why he doesn't believe in God anymore (or if he ever did). I'm sure there are a lot of other teenage fangirls out there who want to know these things and actually speak with him instead of just throwing themselves at him... right?
Bo, if you're reading this, I'm simple with one dimple, too. Except mine is on the opposite side of yours (I think). Only problem is, pizza and the internet aren't quite enough for me... I also need cupcakes. Red velvet or confetti cake, preferably.
For you readers out there who aren't Bo Burnham, you probably think I'm crazy for directly talking to Bo on the off chance that he ever reads this. But today, Aziz Ansari gave me hope, because he was brave enough to admit that even (and probably especially) stars Google their own names. I don't know how far into Google you'd have to go to find my blog pop up for Bo Burnham, but... It could happen?
1. boburnham.com -- opening line in red letters reads: CHECK OUT MY BLOG FOR UP TO DATE STUFF
2. click on blog link. *click*
3. top blog says: nonsense and F.A.Qs October 2nd, 2009
So, that's that. He did just do a tour in the UK this summer... I also found out that 2 years ago Bo came to Indianapolis for the Bob and Tom show and a secret Myspace show... And I didn't know about it. But! I've been in the Indianapolis airport many-a-time and that means Bo and I have most likely stepped at least, like, in the same vicinity. *insert awk fangirl scream here* I'm just kidding. Otherwise this would've just gotten really creepy...
I closed out of Safari just in time to need to pull it back up again because it occurred to me that 2 years ago, I wouldn't have been allowed at a Bo Burnham show even if I had know about it. You have to be 18 to attend shows that involve derogatory humor and openly abuse *cough* I mean use the word "fuck." Before that, you probably hear it every day of you life, anyway, but the rest of the world likes to pretend that you're sheltered from it all so they lock you out and tell you to fuck off... I mean go away.
Today my boyfriend's younger brother made up a word: padoogle. That's the noun. A padoogler and a padoogla are the titles given to people who do a padoogle. And "to padoogle" is the verb form... We're not really sure what it means. What we do know is that as a whole, it sounds like a couple poorly named Pokémon (although I'm sure Padoogle isn't in the Platinum Version Ultimate Guide). That or a really awk sex move involving some paper cranes and a tambourine.
So, I was going to just do a giant compilation of everything from this weekend in one big blog post, but this is already kind of long. So I'm just going to post it now. And write again tomorrow and Tuesday then probably post Tuesday night. If I find the time for it...
Tomorrow I have to draw myself like a dead president.
Stay classy, San Diego, and remember, the sun never sets on a bad ass.
<3 Kinsey
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