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My Assault on Stuff & What I'm Doing Next

My recent war that I've been waging has been against stuff. For a while (and by that I mean since 7th grade), I've produced my own income and spent most of it on things from the internet. I've talked about this before so I won't bore you with the laundry lists of my posessions.

Then when I sold my house in North Austin, I was faced with the prospect of moving all that stuff. My most financially productive years were while I lived there, so I bought a ton of stuff. During that period of collection it never occurred to me that I would eventually move. My garage as well as one of the bedrooms in the house because warehouses for my things.

When I moved, I took a pretty extreme approach. I went through every item in the house and made a decision - either I needed it or not. If it was worth more than $50 or so I sold it. If it was worth less than that I put it in a bedroom. If it was worth less than $5-10 I donated it or threw it away. I posted my address on craigslist and let people go into the bedroom and take all that they wanted. Within a few hours the bulk of my stuff was taken away.

This is a long post about useless things

On How do you boys

I don't really know what I'm doing right now, but after much animated storytelling, my friends have told me I should start a blog. Maybe that means that they don't want to hear my stories anymore, so they want me to find a creative outlet where I can ramble on endlessly about useless things, but who knows.

Anyway, because I'm young, I feel like I don't know a whole lot about anything. Sure, I'm on an academic scholarship here at university (which, by the way, I am doing an excellent job at attempting to keep--I have a philosophy exam tomorrow morning and yet here I am, writing this post), but really, I forced myself to lead such a sheltered life in high school that I feel like I don't know much about this magical thing called being a teenager. In high school, I watched anime and Korean dramas and screamed and cried over boys that don't know I exist--which I still do--so now, as a university student, I have begun my quest to understand the mechanics of getting drunk and kissing a lot of boys. Three weeks in and I have gained much of this desired knowledge.

I suppose before I can really talk much about my new life and how I'm living it, 1600km away from home, I should start from the beginning. I warn you though--it's not really anything special.

Now, when I say I am questing for the secret to kissing whatever boys I want, that makes it sound as if I have no idea how to do so already, but that is not the case. See, when I was in kindergarten I was apparently a master at the art of kissing boys. I had a grand old time kissing my fellow four and then five year-old classmate/boyfriend named Daniel (or something) until I moved across town and started at a new school. After that I had not much luck, until sixth grade when a boy decided he liked me enough to ask me to be his sixth grade girlfriend, and, not really seeing a downside to it, I accepted. He was a glorious sixth grade boyfriend for seven months until I decided I was bored and didn't really like him much anyway. I wasn't missing out on much after that, just a few hugs or something, but no kisses. Darn. Sometime before that though, I kissed a boy named Brandon when we were playing hide-and-seek, but I don't think he remembers.

Flash forward two years later, and I found myself in another situation where I could've kissed a boy. There was a boy I did not get along with at all, but I had feelings for him, and I didn't like it. At least, didn't like it until I found out that he had feelings for me too, and after that point, I was very pleased with those feelings. Still being close to the beginning of that wonderful stage of life called puberty, we were awkward and he couldn't even ask me to be his girlfriend himself because he was so shy, so he sent a friend of mine out into the hallway when I was about to leave for a dentist appointment to ask me if I wanted to go out with him, and I so cleverly said, "just tell him what he wants to hear." Superb. He went away for Christmas break and when he came back I decided I didn't like him anymore and broke up with him over MSN messenger, which was a not-so-brilliant decision. Less than a week later, I regretted my decision, but of course I couldn't tell him that because I had been so cowardly as to break up with him online in the first place. Lame. At the same time, another boy had been jerking around my feelings by telling me he liked me when he actually didn't. Also lame.

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