Take Me Back…with Women’s Rights and Modern Medicine

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1850_fashion_ridingI wish I could go back in time to Victorian England, but with antibiotics and rights..

Think of all the fun they had. I mean, they went to balls and soirees! They Waltzed and Fox Trotted! I want to Fox Trot. We had cotillion in middle school, but my parents thought it would be too boring and stuffy. So, now I just keep dreaming of the day I can Fox Trot.

But moving on, let us not forget the gossip of The Ton! I bet they had the absolute best gossip ever. Basically everything was looked down upon, so it made a wrong doing even more scandalous. A simple embrace in the gardens would mean automatic marriage or a duel at dawn. Name your seconds!

AND FOR PETE’S SAKE, THE CLOTHES. They had the most magnificent clothes. All the men dressed dashingly and the women wore the most beautiful gowns. None of those basketball shorts or jeans, only dresses and suits of all different colors, in amazing fabrics. Ladies wore feathers in their hair and men wore top hats! Though, now that I think about…I could live without ever trying on a corset. Those cannot be good for one’s respiratory system! No wonder women were prone to fainting spells. I’d say if you can’t breathe, it would be pretty obvious that one is going to faint all the time. But really, a dress made out of pink silk sounds like Heaven…sigh.

Ooh…and rogues and rakes! The ones the ladies thought they could tame and make suitable enough to be their husbands. The ones the marriage-minded mamas told their daughters to stay away from. They gambled a bit too much, they drank whiskey instead of port, and they were dark and brooding! They sound so much more exciting than the stiff upper lip simpletons. Though, there was always the off chance that you could be married off to a fortune hunter or a man three times your age..or a fortune hunter who is three times your age. And you wouldn’t be able to stray, because that’s not what proper young ladies did back then.

Lastly, writing letters! They wrote actual letters to each other. Who does that on a regular basis now? It used to be the norm! The feeling when you get a letter addressed to you is the best. If I could only ever write letters as means of communication, I would.

Okay, I realize that I probably read too many historical romances and watch too many Jane Austen movies. It all just seems so delightful, if you ignore all that pesky oppression and disease. Someone please invent a time machine.

I would…but I have to go to high school. Sigh.

Can’t Sleep, Clowns Will Eat Me.

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I really should be sleeping right now, I mean I have to wake up for school in five hours. But sleep just won’t love me tonight. But you know what does? Paranoia. That’s what. Because apparently when one wants to sleep, that’s the best time for one’s brain to realize everything one is paranoid about. Such as…

*Never being able to turn in my Macbeth vocabulary set because the school magically combusted into flames. Ms.Trunchbull would still count off points, which would lead to a low-grade in English! That’s just unacceptable.

*Allen becoming Dictator of the World. Y’all if Allen became dictator of the world,then we would all be learning how to play Yu-Gi-Oh and Pokemon. Our currency will probably end up becoming Yu-Gi-Oh cards…

* The fact that I have to audition for choir in front of the scariest choir director ever!Dr. Childrish will probably tell me that I should just surgically remove my vocal chords because I can’t hold a note to save my life! I’m not even taking choir again next year. This is just a cruel and unusual punishment!

*Never being able to go whale watching because I randomly developed a fear of water. Oh gosh, then I’d have to stop going to the beach…that just won’t do.

*Drunkenly getting a tattoo but oh wait! The needle hasn’t been sterilized! Thus, I end up getting a horrible life altering virus!

*Becoming a revenge demon. They’re hideous creatures…or at least they are on Buffy. They should all really look into getting a face lift.

*Being young forever because I accidentally drank from the Tuck Everlasting pond…which by the way, was such a bad idea! Think of all the bacteria festering inside of it…

*Someone tattooing the Swastika to my forehead while I’m unconscious due to being hit over the head with a bowling ball. Then, for the rest of my life people will think that I’m a Neo-Nazi. Mothers will tell their children to stay away from me and angry mobs will throw rotten carrots at me as I walk past! That’s just a life I don’t care to have.

* That if I fall asleep, an evil psycho clown will come to eat me. But really, clowns are the creepiest party animals ever. Why do we need creepy old men with face paint on to come to our birthday parties?

Now, I’m off to sleep loves…well I’m going to try to at least.

The Glooming Cloud of College is Fast Approaching

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Tonight, my aunt and uncle came over for dinner. What was the topic of conversation you ask? College.
Henrietta, where are you going to college? What do you want to major in? Do you want to go to graduate school? What do you want to be in life? What do you want to name your first-born child? These questions are rather nerve-racking. And there’s something y’all don’t know about me, I worry…about everything. So really, asking me all of these questions really isn’t helping me be a normal functioning person.

Now all I can think about is how I’m going to be homeless because I don’t know where I want to go to college or what I want to be, and because of that I’m going to develop a horrible drug addiction, because I won’t be able to live anywhere and I won’t have any money because no one hires crack heads to work for them.
I might be overreacting..just a little bit.

But really, everyone shoving college down my throat like it’s Thanksgiving turkey is killing me. Maybe I want to become a starving artist? or maybe I want to go to the Olympics? I mean I’d have to pick up painting to be a starving artist..and i’d probably have to pick up table tennis to be an Olympian…I guess college is the best option. But damn, my cranium is about to explode with all of this college talk.

You know what would solve all of this? If I was psychic,because then I would know what would happen and everything would be magical. I should work on making that happen.Soon.

Go Away Angel, I’m Team Xander

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I’ve recently been obsessed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and it’s pretty much the best show ever…except for one thing.

Why the bloody hell is Buffy in love with Angel and not Xander? I mean she still loves him after he attempts to murder her, tortures Giles, kills Jenny, and almost kills Willow! Then in later seasons he leaves her! Yet she still loves him throughout the entire show, even though he’s a big ball of instability and death. Also, he’s probably one of the most overly dramatic vampires ever. Like, dude, shut up and go drink some blood.

What about Xander? He slays vampires and demons for her! I mean, he’s not very good at it, but it’s the thought that counts! Xander would never try to eat her either, which I feel is a very important component in a relationship. Cannibalism kind of puts a dent in love. It can get a bit awkward, when one party is digesting the other. On a brighter note, Xander can actually go out into sunlight and not get third degree burns! Plus, he’s really cute, too.

Most importantly? He’s not going to massacre the entire town, which I feel Buffy should have thought about before dating a vampire. They’re kind of known to, you know…eat people.

Xander is obviously the best choice for her.

Hormonal Fiends.

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Yesterday, while trying to quickly finish my Spanish assignment before the last bell rang, I overheard a conversation between a group of fiendish hormonal boys. They were discussing what they liked in their “chicks,” but did any of it have to do with personality? Whatsoever? No. It only had to do with the size of the girl’s breasts and arse. Because apparently that’s the only important thing when it comes to dating a girl.

These boys are about fourteen, they’re tiny whippersnappers and they’re talking about how they’re only interested in having sex with girls and nothing else. I’m just sitting there thinking that how in the world are they going to have sex? They can’t drive, they’re literally five feet tall, they have the worst body odor, and I would bet my life that they would pee themselves if given a sexual opportunity. But most of all, what self-respecting girl would go out with them? They’re dogs. Rabid, hormonal, degrading, dogs.

They talked about girls as if our only purpose in life is to be attractive to them. It felt like I had transported back to early Qing China, where the woman’s only purpose was to be pretty and have children.

I was literally about to thrash them upside the head with my textbook.
But then the bell rang.
Lucky for them.

What I Learn in Health Class…

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When I stepped into Health class the very first day of the new semester, I was expecting to learn about how we should save ourselves for marriage and all that jazz or how to put a condom on a banana (I’ve always wanted to try). Maybe if I was really lucky, we would get to see pictures of STDs (I’m a ghoul, I’m fully aware). But what I didn’t expect to learn in Health was my teacher’s personal life…in alarming detail. Here is what I’ve learned in Health for the pass three months:

1. One day, he went to check his email, but oh wait…his wife’s email was open. Instead of signing out like a respectful husband, he decided to open an email from a man, a man she was having an affair with. Gasp! Apparently, this man was her boyfriend in high school… oh the scandal! When Coach Finkle found out, he threw the computer out the window in a fit of rage and despair. I feel like he could have just punched a wall instead, but he threw his expensive computer out of the second story window. Sigh.

2.He proceeded to tell us that she only cheated on him emotionally, but that was enough to make them go to counseling for a year to try to save the dregs of their marriage. Sadly, after a year they were divorced. How did he cope with said divorce you ask? He wrote in his journal, then once he was finished with it, he threw it into the fiery depths of his fireplace!

3. Coach Finkle saved himself for marriage. Why, why, why would he tell us, his students, this? Is it his way of telling us it’s Worth the Wait? Also, I really don’t want to know that he has great sex now. Like whoa cowboy, hold your horses. Think about what you’re about to say and if it’s anything about your sexual life, then just hold it in.

4.When he was younger, he enjoyed taking his dates cow tipping. Classy.

5. When he was a wee teenager, such as myself, he experienced…enraged hormones in his car. Now really, why did he need to bring that up when telling us to drive safe and sober? That information was very much unneeded. I had nightmares for months. Gross. Just gross.

6. He went into detail, gory detail, about the birth of his newborn child. He told us everything. There are some things that I can never unhear, and that’s one of them. Gah.

That’s what I learn in Health. Not, you know, puberty and sex stuff. Who needs to know about that? It’s not important or anything. I would much rather learn about Coach Finkle’s personal life. But yes, ladies and gentlemen, that is my Health teacher.

You Should Get That Checked, It Could be Cancerous!

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I’ve grown up in a household where the crimson textbooks full of infectious diseases and parasites were the normal things to read about. Because every seventh grader wants to know about parasites, didn’t you know? So why my family laughs whenever I tell them they might have a cancerous mole on their thigh  is beyond me.  They really should have seen this coming.

Cancerous mole you say? Well yes, you could very well have a mole full of evil on you!If one of your moles is oddly shaped,changes colors( from black to brown, not pink to green…), or if it’s scaly! Whenever I see a mole resembling something of that sort I feel the need to tell the people around me that their mole is cancerous. I don’t want them wandering about town with a giant mole of death on them! It’s really the polite thing to do.

Now that I’m thinking about it, just before my dad’s last dermatologist appointment I told him he should get the mole on his neck checked…and guess what happened when he went to the dermatologist? She removed it! She said she didn’t like the looks of it, that it might be CANCEROUS.

So moral of the story,everyone should listen to me when I tell them they might have a mole full of cancer on them. I’m obviously a cancerous mole whisperer.