Okay, in brief, here’s where I’ve been over the past 2 (?) months:
Me: *tries to get grades up* ufffffffffff
Me: *tries even harder* ufffffffffffffff
Me: *STILL CAN’T DO THE THINGS*
me: *cries softly*
Me: *CRIES LOUDLY*
Exams start in two days, and I’m really stressed out, but not more than usual. After attempting a practice test for my maths exam that I (a) felt good about and (b) PREPARED FOR, I managed to score a grand 12 per cent. Not even a little bitof an exageration: 12/100. Wonderful.
I’ve spend the last week living at my darling Mouse’s house (her name is Caitlin, and she is by no means a rodent), waking up and getting ready in 12 minutes, eating breakfast and petting three cats at a time. In addition to the fantastic all vegetarian food I was provided with, there were also those teenage girl darkness talks. About all the things. Just to clarify: niether of us was naked, no pillows ripped apart during the glorious pillow fight, and all action was PG-12L. Sorry.
On my last day there, after countless conversations about girls and boys and cute butts and fish and Teen Wolf, we spoke about love. And London. We matched up all of our friends with cities where they could possibly potentially find the love thing (Italy, Cape Town,Amsterdam, ANYWHERE) and then we spoke about ourselves.
Now, call me selfish, but everything that comes out of this girl’s mouth is GOLD (okay, maybe not everything) so I was listening intently. A part of the conversation went like this:
Me: I’m going to Indiana. But should I be? *teen girl insecurity things ugh*
Mouse: *deep in thought, nodding*
Me: I think I need to go to Europe.
Me: Where would I begin? Will I even be happy? *strange noises* What if everyone hates me?
Mouse: London. Definitely London, to start. And then you can work your way around to (place I can’t remember) and (place I can’t remember) and Liverpool.
Mouse: I feel like you’ll go to London and meet a boy, maybe, who will think you’re the most interesting creature he’s ever come across. And he’ll be the one you wrote in the book. (I wrote an imginary boy. That’s all.) It takes a specific person to love you, Scoot. And I think you’ll find that person there.
WHAT IS THE POINT?
1) I had a great time.
2) The truth about love is that it takes a specific person to love you. And sometimes, you’ll need to go somewhere to find that person. I think you’ll find that person there. Even if that person is yourself.
This has been the most clichéd blog post I have ever written, I think. But I’m trying to do this NaNoWriMo thing and write despite exams, and be open and real and I’m feeling VERY TEENAGE GIRLISH AND I’M BEING OKAY WITH IT, OKAY?
That’s all I’ve got. Thanks to Matt Black for reminding me about NaNoWriMo, even though I’m twenty-four and a bit hours late. Day one and two, all smushed into 300 words of teen girling.
All my love,