Well...Now What?

I've been grappling with how to continue with this blog all day. I've gone back and forth between different topics, and I think that each topic will be, and needs to be discussed at some point. But as of right now, I'm stumped. The kind of stumped you get when an authority figure asks you for some kind of simple fact about yourself, such as your birthday, and your mind goes completely blank. Of course you know your birthday, but when forced to recite it to someone, you suddenly question yourself. It has occurred to me that writing a blog must have been much easier if I had started when I was younger, therefore the chronology of things would have been easier to deal with. I have not lived a long life by any means, but I feel like I've lived a decently full life so far, and I just don't know where to start frankly. Do you really want to hear about my childhood? My awkward middle school years? God knows I don't want to relive those years. In my mind, grades 6-9 are like a blur of bad outfits, the emergence of acne, and the realization that the same girl I was friends with in elementary school was now only interested in boys. Boys. They ruin everything don't they? Middle school was when liking boys officially became a thing. Far more important than anything else was who like who and all the drama and nonsense that comes with it. I can remember being approached by an Abercrombie & Fitch clad girl who had just applied a fresh coat of lip smackers lip gloss and the conversation went something like this:

Popular girl: "So-and-so said that so-and-so thinks you're cute?"

Me:"uuuhhhhh, what...?"

Popular girl: "Do you like him?"

Me:"I guess so, he's nice"

Popular girl: "No, I mean do you like him like him??"

Me:"......."

I soon discerned that the emphasis on the word "like" equated to whether or not I wanted to be corralled into the same general area as said boy and be forced to talk to him while the people who orchestrated the whole thing looked on and giggled manically. The two people at the center of attention would barely be able to speak to each though, on account of sheer embarrassment. Come to think of it, that experience reads something like a gladiator scene from ancient Rome, two opponents thrown into the ring, while only the crowd gets enjoyment out of it. At least those gladiators had training and what not, awkward middle school kids with hormone levels higher than the Empire State Building have no defense against the perils of beginning to notice the opposite gender.

Did I go too far in comparing bloody gladiator fights to middle school girl-boy interactions? Oh well, one thing you will learn about me(if you keep reading this blog), is that I often make comparisons, and say things, that are really out there.

Are you intrigued yet? I think a far better question though, is are you not entertained??

And admit it, you totally envied those expensive Abercrombie & Fitch clothes all the other girls had in middle school. Aren't you glad we are past that stage in our lives?

Well I guess it wasn't that hard to find something to write about after all...

Leah