We're livin' easy, we got the whole day, and we can go hard don't matter what the cops say!

I know that I use tumblr a lot more than I use this blogspot, but I enjoy having this so that I can write shit about people I follow on tumblr easily.

So in case you out there who still check their blogspots don't know, there's a terrible curse going around where people on tumblr say their credentials for their perfect boy (or girl- I haven't seen any but people say they exist.). Some people went really crazy saying really specific things like "holds my hand during scary movies" and shit that needy girls like on facebook.

One girl I know personally, went fucking INSANE specific.

And I quote:

1.) He must play basketball.

2.) He has to wear abercrombie, hollister, nike, and underarmor.

3.) He has to be smart.

4.) He has to have blue eyes and brown hair.

5.) He has to be taller than me.

6.) He has to be funny, and know how to make me laugh.

I think she's been huffing glue or something, because boys like that don't exist in the real world.

I'm just so sick of all these girls who think they're so individual because they have tumblr and SO MANY FOLLOWERS (oh god none of them shut up about how many followers they have.) and I just want to unfollow them but I know who they are so they'll notice if they lose a follower who they ACTUALLY KNOW IN REAL LIFE.

I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT GOES THROUGH THEIR HEADS. UGH THEY MAKE ME WANNA QUIT TUMBLR FOREVER BUT I CAN'T.

I find it ironic

that my secret blog (this one) has the most hits according to google. When I searched my all-around internet username, ritaskellington, I was expecting either my twitter or my tumblr to pop up first, but I guess since this has been around the longest, this is the winner.

I don't know, I just keep this one so sheltered from the world, and I don't even use it that much. I honestly love the secret-ness of this blog. I can say things on here I wouldn't on twitter or tumblr or facebook or any other website I am a part of.

I can bitch on here, good and proper.

I was just looking back at old facebook notes

and I realize how I’m still the same person I was in 7th grade.

I think the only changes have been to my body and my music tastes… but generically I’m still the same person who

* hates bitchiness but is pretty bitchy herself
* hates human nature but likes a whole lot of humans
* hates the same kind of people
* is still a quitter
* is still addicted to the internet
* is quiet with people she doesn’t know but talks her face off with people she does
* has no confidence in anything
* procrastinates
* likes her locker clean but her room a wreck
* likes playing video games more than going shopping
* still has a secret crush on Pete Wentz even though she thinks he’s a tool
* still wears “too much” black

so all in all, I’ve not changed one bit in 2-3 years.

I guess this just solidifies my whole idea that no one changes.

A Public Letter to Mr. Ryan Ross

Dear Mr. Ryan Ross-
Let it be known I'm not a hater. I'm simply not a fan (anymore).

The reason? Mainly because you started doing drugs and you continue to think this is a good idea. The main reason I'm against your drug use is because of how you think you are the Beatles, all four wrapped in one, and your songwriting abilities have disappeared. Also, a) it will kill your liver and b) I have no respect for people who do drugs routinely. Because of this moral issue of mine, I have no respect for a number of people, including family members.

Now, about my dislike of you. You like to think you are the Beatles, all four of them all in one handy-dandy package. But to be honest, you thinking this has made you less of the fantastic person you were. You seem more confident of yourself, which has, in all honesty, taken away from your excellent song-writing abilities. The reason everyone LOVES A Fever You Can't Sweat Out? It's real. It's truthful. It's an escape for lots of people, including the old you, and you know this. I hate to talk for people I don't know personally, but it's true.

There is a legitimate reason there was a shift in the fans after you released Pretty. Odd. and it's because the album, after your first, was pretty fucking odd. A Fever- emo kids and people who appreciated good music. Pretty. Odd.- potheads and wannabe indie kids. See any correlation with your actions from album to album? Exactly. There was too much change over too short a period of time. The only reason the Beatles could rock that kind of change from what they started with to what they ended with was because of a changing time period- the only change going on in this time period is the twitter updates and who the new celebrity of the week is.


So Mr. Ross, I'm sorry to say that you were born in the wrong decade. Sorry.

Yours,
Rita.

This is an emo post.

So there's a couple things that have impeded me from posting ANYTHING over the past two weeks- homework, my addiction to spider solitaire and The Office, and my loneliness. And yes, in case you were wondering, this IS a bitchy journal! Welcome to freshie year.

Obviously I have like a million hours of homework a night, and then I'm spending my nights not being able to sleep for my fear of serial killers/my not-so severe anxiety issues. I mean, the other day in Latin I had a panic attack. I'm pretty fucked up.

I also have developed an addiction to spider solitaire. What the hell, my life is going to shit.

Plus I'm pretty lonely- my parents are both working long hours, my sister is a hu-uge fucking bitch (getting to that), my 2 brothers are all tied up with their jobs (and one of my brothers with his wife and step-son :] ). Plus, it's not like any of my friends from elementary school give two shits about me, and my friends from my high school are in the same situation as me- all fucking tied up with school. Except two of my friends have boyfriends, go figure.

And so far, I've told 3 people from my school the kid I like at my school. They're all like BUT HE'S SHORT and I'm like BUT HE'S ADORABLE AND NICE AND WE HATE THE SAME ASSHOLES and they're like BUT HE'S SHORT. Maybe I just hang out with tall people? I don't know, but either way I know that he's just not that into me. We have like 6 classes together, including lunch, so he just isn't that into me, I guess. Although I must admit I am becoming a flirt. It's freaking ME out.

But back to my family- my sister is a huge fucking bitch and my mother is the root of all my problems.

My sister: So, last Friday, she was with my mom out shopping, and my mom was like OMGSH I TOLD RITA I WOULD PICK HER UP AFTER SCHOOL and my sister is with her and she seriously says "Does she really have to come along?" At least, this is what my mother tells me. And then when we're at Trader Joe's and stuff she's being a huge bitch to me, just yelling at me, commanding me, and acting like I'm a do-nothing who just complains about everything, when it's actually the other way around. I'm being nice and trying to be civil to her and trying to be the bigger person but no. Of fucking course not. All she does the whole time is complain about how hungry she is, and then when we do stop to eat, she won't eat it because she's a fucking self-centered bitch who can't get over problems without griping and bitching for a month. It's like she's on permanent PMS or some shit like that. Get the fuck over your ex, he was a self centered asshole NOT UNLIKE YOURSELF.

My mom: I have finally come to the realization that my mother is the root of every problem in my life. Low self-esteem? Her telling me I was fat when I was 9. Her telling me that my teeth look like shit. Her telling me that my hair looks bad. Her telling me that my face should be cleaner. My attitude towards everything? Her cynicism. Her constant negative review of the world around her. Her cursing. Her yelling. Her screaming. Her constant fucking sob story about everything. All my attitudes about everything, all my negative feelings, all my self-hatred has come from her. The reason I don't accept who I am? Her. The reason I don't legitimately like who I am? Her. Her, her, her.

And to think all this realization has come from reading a book. Huh.

But I just got the entire Lonely Island album, Incredibad. I must say, it's changed my life for the better.

You're Welcome~

A Few Things

So I'm gonna go on a kinda long rant so you can skip over this journal entry.
(But really what the hell. I am turning in to such a poser.)

First of all, the people at Sprint are crackheads who don't know what the fuck is wrong with my phone- I KNOW WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY PHONE, It clearly is NOT the battery, you guys just gave me a fucking new one. So why do I need another new battery? The same thing keeps happening! My first Rumor was better than this one. That one only turned itself off- this one doesn't fucking charge.

Second, my mother is really pissing me off with all her nagging. I honestly don't get it. I'm fucking stressed because of COURSE I go to the best/most aggravating/most stressful school in the entire fucking state when I could have gone to a good (albeit not as good) school. Not only that, but I swear to god she's the reason my sister was/is a fucking anorexic. All my mother cares about is looks and what people think of you/her/us. Also, I think I know how to take care of myself as a vegetarian. I don't need your "helpful hints" that involve eating eggplant or mushrooms at all.

Don't get me wrong, I understand she's concerned. But really? Really?

Third, I'm getting a D in Latin.

Fourth, my algebra teacher hates me

Fifth, facebook makes me feel unpopular.

Sixth, I want someone to like me. I feel so awkward.

Seventh, my dad claims I have to "manage my time better". Admittedly, this is probably true, but in all honesty, I don't give a fuck.

Eighth, Health class just got REALLY awkward. And I find it interesting that when the dude said "menstrual periods" all the guys started giggling.

Ninth, all the nerdy Asian guys from my school had me in an incredibly awkward conversation yesterday that involved male genitalia.

Tenth, I've come to realize I cannot sing.

Eleventh, my mother claims the "Gabe Saporta Slept Here" tee is inappropriate. That's the point.