Hello there. This will be an actual blogpost.

Because blogs are web logs like online diaries.

And not those little paragraphs of hyperventilaton, paranoia and dry humor that I love to write.

Also, I highly doubt that web logs contain writing that it sounds like it's from a six year old.


Dear Mr Online Diary,

Hello. I would like a pony. Because all my snobby friends have one. And make it glittery, so they'll be jealous. Even though I don't like glitter on anything except my dresses.

Love, Your Paranoid six year old Writer.


No.

Just. No.

I don't even like ponies. (sorry pony lovers) They're just...pony-ish.

Maybe it'll be more like:


Dear In-tee-me-day-ting White Box,

How are you? I am fine. I am six today! Look, my brother helped me set up this reeeeeally cool thing. It's called a BLOG! It's like a web log. Take out the web, you get a log. It makes me feel like a pirate! You know, pirates have logs to keep track about the stuff that goes on the ship.

See you around soon! Daddy's gonna get me a pirate costume for Halloween!

P.S. Mommy tells me that pirates are actually thieves who have no education and will stay single forever. She also says most of them suffer because of scar-vey due to lack of ve-tar-minn C. Their teeth will drop off and so will mine if I don't eat my fruit. I'm scared.

P.S.S. Daddy told me not to get my "hopes too high" on being a pirate. He says eating stale biscuits would "suck real bad". Mommy yelled at him. I told him my hopes were in my head and not in the sky.

P.S.S.S. Also, Mommy hit herself on the forehead when I begged them not to make me suck on stale biscuits.

WHAT AM I DOING?! I am meant to be writing a post! A diary! On today!

I promise, I will write a proper entry about today.

THIS WILL BE A MUNDANE AND EXTREMELY BORING POST THAT STRANGELY ENTERTAINS EVERYONE.

Or maybe it is because I simply have a dry sense of humor.

Or that my fun side is even more boring than my boring side.

If that is even possible.

Somehow I feel like as if I'm writing like when I was eleven.

No wonder no one laughed at my jokes.

Here I go again, completely gone off topic!

So today I went to school and...

Oh shoot.

I don't really have anything to say.

That must mean ONE thing.

I am older than six.

Because if I am really six, I would be writing about my "play time at school" and that delicious tart my "good friend brought to school".

Oh great. Now I don't have an reason for my horribly childish writing.

Excuse while I go read the dictionary to make myself look smarter.

You know...to make up for my stupidi-I mean height!

I'VE BEEN LIED TO.

My mom told me that it was a chocolate chip cookie.

It's actually raisins.

She doesn't know.

I'm chewing it. I'm disappointed.

Sorry raisin lovers.

I can't come up with a better title for this.

This blog post has one main point and two points that are just there for me to wonder about.

One of the points being why I post on this blog when NO ONE reads it. When I read my posts I feel like cringing. Really, I write like I'm ten.

I speak like I'm ten.

I look like I'm ten.

I feel like I'm ten.

That will lead to another point later on in this post.

Anyway, the thing is: I WISH KURT HUMMEL WAS MY FRIEND.

Sure, Emma Pillsbury would probably hand me a "My Hag And I" brochure everytime we step into her office; but can you not see how great it would be to be a friend of Kurt?

Because truthfully, we all need that sarcastic and fashionable friend who is willing to spend hours talking about fashion spreads.

I never will have to look at Vogue covers and things on the internet because I can borrow his copies of them.

We can totally bond over shopping! (For clothing I suppose)

I admit, I haven't bought any new outfits or what so ever since February.

I also admit that I get bored while shopping.

Unless it's a book store.

Or a big sale.

Like everything is cut down to such a cheap price, I feel like Scrooge when I purchase something.

Still.

He can totally tell me that my fashion sense sucks to my face(sure, I'll be a little hurt), but he can help me pick out stuff and I can rely on him for fashion advice.

I'm sure he would be happy to do so.

And we can comment on peoples' outfits and discuss on how it can be better.

When I try to do that with my friends, they pretty much don't get what I'm saying by: "Colour does not match skin tone."

I'll never not have to not hide from public places ever again.

Seriously. I love the outfits that Kurt wears in the show. Especially in Season 3.

It's only been 3 episodes and I already love everything he wears.

Even if it's for guys, I would wear it. Maybe a more feminine version.

I can totally see it. We can be friends. He can be disgusted at my weird grandma cardigans(which I currently do not have) and I can borrow his copies of Vogue.

And along the way, he'll probably get Rachel and I to try wearing something less granny-like.

So, the last point about this post is I don't know why I'm writing about being friends with Kurt.
Not best friends though. "Best Friend" position belongs to Blaine.

Who also so happens to have the "Boyfriend" title.

Am I the only one who is excited for that "Sebastian" guy to arrive?

He can come and stir up some drama. But he better NOT break them up.

I feel absolutely creepy now.

Wait, no one reads this blog. Ok, I can relax now.

Now, I've just gone off topic.

The last point which I meant to say before I completely went on about other stuff is that I should be doing something else instead of thinking about getting Kurt to reject my grandma cardigans(which I have yet to get).

I love grandma cardigans by the way.

My grandma doesn't like them.

Right, back to what I was saying. Instead of posting all this, I should be doing my writing instead. I have a couple of chapters to complete.

CHAPTERS.

CHAPTERS.

CHAPTERS.

Today turned out to be a blank microsoft word file.

But it's okay. Tumblr taught me that others are having the same problem.

And that I should probably get off tumblr.

But I need the internet for research!

Then again, why should I write?

I feel like deleting everything I've posted.

Because, I feel like everything I've written is terrible.

LET ME DELETE IT PLEASE.

But I can't, because people reading it might get angry.

Then again I don't think people read one-shots more than once.

Maybe I should just put up a poll to ask if they mind if I delete the fics.

OR I SHOULD JUST GET A NEW ACCOUNT. BRILLIANT.

Well, it's 10.31pm now in my country.

No one is reading this.

Riiiiight.

This is a I-feel-10-years-old-physically-and-mentally-girl signing off.

No one is still reading this.

Disagreements with Fimo

Fimo is what I named it. Or Walters.

Fine, I never did name it. I'm just naming for the sake of this blog post.

Fimo is my laptop. I'm sure Fimo also happens to be the name of some sort of clay. But nevermind, it fits my laptop well. Or Walters.

Recently, it seems that Fimo here, has a certain dislike for musicals.

That's right. Everytime I watch one video about Mary Poppins or some random musical video, FIMO SHUTS DOWN.

You may think it's just uncanny coincidence(can we use uncanny with coincidence?), but I know better. It's not.

Personally, I don't think your laptop ALWAYS shuts down when you watch a musical video.

So therefore, it is either that all musicals have some sort of computer virus hidden in them or that Fimo simply dislikes me reliving my childhood memories.

You see, when I was little, the brilliant TV programmers used to put the kid's musicals at 11pm.

WHEN I COULDN'T KEEP MY EYES OPEN.

So there I was, a little kid, struggling to open my eyes to watch it. Because truthfully, cheerful Mary Poppins was like a lullaby.

Very, very soothing.

To make a long story short, it's the programmers' fault.

That's the 7 year old me saying that.

Anyway, so Fimo (or Walters) doesn't seem to be fond of such musicals. I shall go check if tickets are still avalible for The Lion King: The Musical.

I'll bring Fimo along and let him appreciate the musical's glory. With all the other people staring at me wondering why I brought along a big heavy laptop.

Never mind, I could start a trend. And I could have a little club.

The Laptops Appreciate Musicals Club.

And never ever will anyone's laptop break down while they're watching musicals again.

Meet Jonathan Box

This white box is very intimidating.


I shall start by being friends with it.

Hello White Box, I'm Cherie. Oh, you want me to call you Jonathan? Well, I hardly expected boxes to have names. Yes, I'm well aware that I once worked with 17 other boxes.

Oh, one of them was your uncle, Benson? That's a...peculiar name, no?

Did you just read the sentence I had written at the top? Sorry, you are a very nice box. The problem is me you see, I can't stand things being in such an organized state. After all, my desk has papers messily piled up.

I want us to be friends, box. Really, I do. Shall I offer you a peace offering such a lovely chinese tea?

You can't drink tea? Oh I'm so sorry! You think it's bitter? Well I-

Hold on a second. You said you CAN'T drink tea, how'd you know it's bitter?

Alright, I got you. We're even now. You could have just told me you didn't want any.

Or...just tell it to my face that I'm an awful host with no social skills and the tea sucks.

Right, you're a box, a couple hours old and your dream is to be a box featured in the Martha Stewart magazine?

Fascinating. I don't suppose you would be interested in knowing me. I am rather...mysterious. However, I do love Harry Potter and Glee and a bunch of other things. Oh, you love Harry Potter too?

Well, I think my phone or at least it's auto-correct, has been watching Glee secretly.

It kept changing "Just" to "Kurt".

I'm sorry I'm a really boring person box. Suppose I shall just go away.

Wait, you're willing to talk to me box? You know about how I love to write?

Oh thank you Jonathan Box! I won't let you down!