Joy Tonic

Does anyone want me to post the story I riskyily turned in for a school assignment?

Just turned in a gay tragic love story for my short story assignment to my definitely over 60 long term sub LA teacher. Let's see how this dumpster fire burns.

If you guys want to follow me on tumblr, it's joytonicandgin.

THERE WAS A GIANT FRICKEN BACK AND WHITE SPIDER IN THE MAIL WHEN MY MOM BROUGHT IT IN THE CAR. WE BOTH FREAKED OUT AND I JUMPED OUT OF THE FRICKEN CAR AS MY MOM THREW THE MAIL. IT WAS UNDER THE PARKING SWITCH AND WE COULDN'T GET IT OUT SO MY MOM GOT THE VACUUM AND SUCKED IT OUT AND FRANTICALLY EMPTIED IT INTO THE LAWN. I'M FRICKEN LOSING IT.

Does anyone else occasionally just sit in their room and silently freak out about how cute girls are?
          Just... GIRLS.

I recently had to explain the why the whole "what about men" thing can be so aggravating. I used this analogy: Let's say you had cancer and was trying to spread awareness to help in the effort to find a cure at a cancer awareness event, and someone kept talking over you with " but...I have heart disease. Forget about cancer, fix my heart disease!" Yes, we need to cure your heart disease, and it is very important to us, but we are not talking about that right now. Right now we are talking about cancer.

My mom's mad at me because I referred to a comedian's type of comedy as Gen Z Humour. She's currently on a rant about how my generation (which, according to her, is Millennial, which I am not) has to label everything. Well, we're not the ones who insist on binary gender labels, but go off, I guess.

When you have been a walking doormat your entire life, and you finally decide just to say, "Fuck it! I'm doing what's best for me when it's best for me, and you losers can take care of yourselves for once," you find out who your real friends are. The people who complain and call you selfish, mean, they are not your real friends. Your real friends are the ones you tell "Hell, yeah!" and cheer you on from the sidelines.

In my philosophy class I took a few weeks ago, we were discussing unequal societal expectations based on gender. I was in a group with all girls, and our conversation quickly changed to being about how afraid we were of angry men. How, when a man appears annoyed or angry, we hide, run, avoid eye contact, and leave the room. The male undergrad student supervising our discussion seemed very surprised. I really don't understand how men could not know how afraid we are. How the slight raising of a man's voice sets off wild alarm bells in our brains. It's something I think about a lot.

Off to get my wisdom teeth out. Kinda makes me wanna die a little.