I HATE DRIVERS. Except for me, of course.

You know what's annoying?

Driving.

ugh.

So, I wasn't doing anything wrong while I was driving before. I was just driving normally. Except the SUV in front of me decided to drive 15 mph. On a 35 mph road.

And that would have been fine, except a jerk was driving behind me.

Now, when someone is driving strangely (like driving 20 miles under the speed limit), I leave a little extra space between me and the car in front of me. Not a lot of space. Just a little extra.

So the person behind me decided, hey, that's an invitation to pass her! Woop woop! She's obviously the one driving slow!

Wrong. Guess who got stuck behind the SUV awkwardly driving in front of the pissed off ginge you just cut off and passed in a no-passing zone?

ha. ha.

Trick or Treat, smell my feet.

I'm addicted to Millionare Matchmaker.

There, I said it.

I honestly cannot stop watching it.

I CAN'T STOP.

Ugh. Why must there be marathons so I get stuck watching episode after episode. And then I get mad at these stupid millionares.

MILLIONARES. Y U SO STUPID.

Ugh. I actually had a real post planned, but I got sidetracked by Patti. And Dustin. And Rachel. Blegh.

Maybe a real post as soon as Bravo stops showing such addicting shows. Gosh darn it.

Failing. No big deal.

Shut the front door.

I can't believe I left my little blogspot alone again. Admittedly not for a month and two days but still. I miss writing on here.

So I'll start again. And sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes ( I know, usually my spelling is oh so perfect. Not.) I'm typing this on my iTouch. Wait, actually the spelling might be better than usual because of the autocorrect on here. That's a tad bit sad :P

So, this story reveals some things about me. Like that I'm supremely uncoordinated, not that you haven't guessed that before.

Anyways ... When I graduated from high school, I wasn't anymore coordinated that I am now. Shocking, isn't it? Well, at this aforementioned event, I was positioned near the end of a row. Which was helpful for me. Because it minimized the danger of me tripping over the rest of the chairs. I also thought that hey, since I'm at the end, I can throw my cap that way and still be able to find it. Smart, right? I didn't graduate high school for nothing readers.

Let's just say that that whole plan didn't exactly work out. I was already worried about my ability to throw my cap, so I took off the tassel. And I guess that confused ye old throwing arm. Because as I throw it, I realize something is wrong. Very wrong.

Let me walk you through this whole situation.

Imagine me, albino midget ginge sitting there all excited. I'm getting ready to throw my cap. Except it has a different plan. Instead of going to the left and being a nice little hat, it decides to go to the right. Straight into the face of someone sitting two seats down. Who also yelled several profanities and questions to his surrounding area.

Oops. 

Judging. So hard.

So. It's been a little while since I posted on here. Not too long. Just a month and two days.

A month.

And two days.

Seriously. I understand it's been way too long. But I promise, I had reasons.

But now that I start again, I find that the words that I want to say have escaped me. Everything that I wanted to do on this blog has kind of gone out the window in the last month, and I apologize for that. But I really can't think of a witty post that would make it up to any of the few that read this blog.

So I guess I will share with you all (again, I use that term loosely, as any followers that I might have had have prolly disappered in the last month and two days) a failure story that I told two friends the other day.

Actually, its a series of stories.

So, I have bad luck outdoors..

Like really bad luck.

And I don't remember if I already wrote this story on here or not. But I don't feel like going through all my post and looking for it. So I'll tell you all anyway.

When I was very very small, I thought it was so much fun to run around without shoes on. Like the best thing in the world fun.

I still do, but things between my feet and the grass have changed. They've become more ... strained.

The reason?

One bright summer day, I was running around my yard. I was probably yelling like a crazy person while the rest of my neighbors were judging. Unfortunatly, in the midst of this fun, I did not look down. To see the large bumblebee that was the size of the biggest toe. That was under my foot.

You can guess what happened.

BUT. That isn't the failure part. Now, see, as I was not looking down to see this giant bumblebee hanging out in my yard, I also was not looking down to see a second giant bumblebee also hanging out next to him.

Well, not next to him.

More like the exact distance a small child's legs take as a normal step before they realize they have been stung by a bee.

So yes. The first time I was stung by a bee, it was twice. One on each heel. Something that my mother, an emergency room nurse, had never seen before. Because in here words, "Usually once someone is stung by a bee, they notice. And stop running around like a complete lunatic. Also, they tend to look at the ground. And avoid other bees."

Yes, I was a very special child.