Cleaning

Lots and lots of stuff.

I've spent the last hour or so cleaning my bedroom and it looks no better than it did when I started.
Why is that you ask?
Well, I do suck at cleaning. Combine that with the fact that I have a plethora of old stuff and strong feelings of nostalgia this time of year (change of seasons has weird effects on me), and there is ... no real cleaning at all! Just sorting through...stuff. Lots and lots of it. I forgot that I had an entire drawer full of college mail. In Junior year, I would take my daily stack of college information and throw it in the drawer. Then the drawer filled up and I started throwing away the mail on the spot.
It's just so much.
How do I handle what is probably literally tons of college books and brochures, each and every one of them claiming that their school is the best??
Yeah RIGHT!!

It's overwhelming.

So I filled a kitchen trash bag with college mail. It was unbelievably heavy.

Why am I writing about this? Could I even pick a more boring subject?

I was talking about cleaning my room. I spent so much time doing so and it does not look better. But I did empty a drawer. I mean, that is something, isn't it?

Oh man. I'm totally going to get kicked off the computer in about 60 seconds. Parental stuff.

Bye!!!

Forever Young

I forgot how truly great this song is.

"December" by Weezer. This song is just so...great. I can't find an actual recording of it, but this live version, despite the static, is actually not that bad. In all honesty, I might just cry my eyes out if I saw this live.




What's funny about this song is, it's really only good in the winter. Now of course it is called "December." Incidentally, I believe I discovered this song in November 2 or 3 years ago. If I remember correctly, I fall in love with it every winter.
It's winter, again, folks. An expected 30 degrees or so coming in this week. With snow. Snow. I can almost smell it. It's starting to feel like winter.

I don't even like snow. Unless it can get me out of school, it's usually just biting cold and a pain in the ass. But Weezer sounds really, REALLY good again. If I can attribute that to the cold outside, then it's okay.

Weezer is just one of the greatest bands in the world for me, because, though I'm not always into them, they will always remain one of my firsts. When I dived into the world of music and records about 3 years ago (Yeah, I never seriously listened to music until about freshman year of high school) Weezer was basically my first musical love.

Perfect Situation. Only in Dreams. Hold Me. Buddy Holly. My Name is Jonas. No Other One. My Best Friend. The Other Way. Haunt You Every Day. Glorious Day. Mykel and Carli. And, of course, December. Oh, December.

Dozen!

Yes, it's true.

If you know me, you probably know that I am the oldest (therefore the exhausted and infuriated babysitter) of 11 children. (Plus one in heaven. Miscarriage.)
Well.
It has just come to my attention that our clan may reach a dozen. As in Cheaper By.
Okay. Bad joke. I'm sorry. Just let me say it before anyone else does.

Yes, folks, my mother is pregnant yet again.

It's funny, because I figured it out before anyone else did. Most nights before we're all sent off to bed we say prayers as a family, standing in a circle in the living room. Everyone somehow (well, sometimes) manages to quiet themselves for about 4 minutes at the end of the day. And everyone is given the chance to pray out loud. My younger sister Katie, who I believe to be 3 years old, prayed that my mother would have another baby. This was the only time I have ever heard her say this, so when I looked at my parents' faces, I knew. Holy crap. There is another one.

I was right. Katie didn't know anything when she said the prayer, but it turns out that was the day my Mom found out she was pregnant.
Trippy.

I'm just glad I was successfully able to read my parents' faces. =D It's some skill I like to believe that I have. With my family at least, I can usually tell when anyone is lying or nervous or trying to hide anything. For instance...one of my brothers happened to spill a cup of pee on himself while playing in the basement. (This makes me want to both laugh and vomit at the same time. This is the kind of stuff that happens around my house.) Now, I have absolutely no idea why there is a container of urine in our basement. It's incredibly disturbing, and God knows how long it sat there, but there is no question that, yes, it was pee.

My Mom wasn't really happy. She hasn't been too pleased this weekend with her children's insane behavior. This is something I heard yesterday as I was reading in my bedroom:

Children had been laughing wildly for about 10 minutes. There were some thumps and screams but this has almost become white noise to me, so I usually disregard it. In the midst of the hyena-like laughing, I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. Oh damn, I think. Mom's coming. Maybe I should start looking busy. Clean my room or something and pretend that I'm at least semi-productive. I didn't have to worry, though, because whatever she had come downstairs for seemed to be instantly forgotten, as she started screaming: "WHAT ARE YOU KIDS DOING???"
Laughter transformed instantly into an uncomfortable silence.
"WHAT IS GOING ON??"
I dropped my book, focusing totally on the forming chaos in the adjacent room.
"I JUST CLEANED THIS ROOM!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS BOX???"
"Michael was in it," said one of my sisters.
"WHY WAS MICHAEL IN THE BOX?? DO YOU THINK I SPEND ALL THIS TIME PUTTING STUFF IN THE BOX SO YOU KIDS CAN CLIMB IN IT AND TRAMPLE IT??"
More uncomfortable silence. Then...a child sobbing.
"YOU GUYS ACT LIKE TOTAL ANIMALS!! ANIMALS!!"
My Mom storms upstairs, the crying continues, and I pick up my book again.

Anyways, my Mom has been dealing with this kind of stuff all week. Well, okay, all her life, actually, but this week seems particularly bad. Plus the little ones have been sick and having a time throwing up all over anything, namely the interior of our car. Now our car isn't really that nice (It's an old green 12-passenger van with a wrench holding one of the sidemirrors in place) but a perpetual vomit smell does not improve our car's state at all. It's been a hectic week.
My poor mother.

So discovering that one of her boys is a.) peeing in cups downstairs and b.) LEAVING them there for their other lucky siblings to discover does not improve my mother's mood.
As we all sit down at the dinner table, my mother again begins to call us animals. "Were you guys born in a BARN?? Why don't I just feed you HAY for dinner??" Most of us stared solemnly at our plates. I looked at the boys and, again, using my face-reading abilities, I knew who it was. Guilty. As. Charged.
I didn't say anything, though. I'm not that much of a jerk.

It's been a good day, though. Pee in a cup and pregnancy.
All in a day at the Major household!

I am failing English.

My pride is about to shatter, because, my God, I am failing English.

After the chronic nightmare that was freshman year, I didn't think I would ever do badly in English class again.
But now ... I have a huge, ugly F. In English. I might even become temporarily ineligible for certain extracurriculars.

And it's not my science or math classes that I'm failing, oh no. English class. English.
My excuse: I'm slacking quite terribly.
Which is why I am no longer writing in here and I am going to desperately search SparkNotes for last minute assistance on my essays.

I'm out.
Say hello to a late night.

Emily