Things I Kind of Want to Do, but Not Really

I have a lot of goals for my life, and I rarely get to see them accomplished because, well, they’re not very good goals. Recognizing the good ideas and the bad ideas is an important things to do, but sometimes I wonder if that’s just an excuse I use to not follow my dreams. Well, I’ll let you be the judge of that. To start off, I kind of want to …

1) Give up soda.

I feel like a good indicator of how bad my acne is gonna be tomorrow is by the amount of soda I’ve drank (drunk? drunken?) in the past twenty-four hours. If I stay clear and stick to water? Dolphin-smooth skin, motherfuckers. If I cave and end up chugging a two liter bottle of Dr. Pepper? Well rest in peace skin, it was nice knowing you.

Plus, soda messes up your teeth, it leads to diabetes, alzheimer’s, and cancer. I think it’s safe to say that I would be a lot better off if I gave up soda.

So why I am not going to?

Because soda tastes like, really good. Okay? It’s bubbly, it soothes the stomach. It makes you burp, and if you hold in the burp it’ll go out your nose, and you’ll feel the CO2 from the soda travel through your sinuses. Not sure if this is good for you or not, but it feels cool.

Also, I must address this whole “soda is bad for your health” complaint with a follow up question. You know what else is bad for your health?

  • Heroin.
  • Meth
  • Crystal meth.
  • Bungee jumping without a cord.
  • Watching TV.
  • Sitting down for too long.
  • Standing up for too long.
  • Sleeping too much.
  • Sleeping too little.
  • Doing one handed pushups without ever switching to your other hand, because then all the muscle will be in one of your arms, which will cause you to constantly lean towards that arm as you walk, which leads to scoliosis, followed by paralysis and then death.

Compared to all this, soda doesn’t seem too bad. Besides, by the time I get diabetes, which I am, genetically speaking, bound to get anyway, those hardworking scientists will have already found a cure. So I should be fine.

2) Start a political blog.

I don’t know how it happened, but I am now one of those people who always wants to talk about politics. I have a lot of rants going on in the back of my head right now that I want to shout out into the void, and it would be cool to have a place where I could say them unabashedly, and hey, maybe someone will even people me to write this shit. I mean, I’m completely unqualified, but that hasn’t stopped anyone before.

So why won’t I?

Because every time I write something political, I always end up regretting part of it. Like that time I compared the 2016 election to a black guy being falsely charged with rape. Yes, I actually did that. Sure, I called myself out for it ahead of time, but I feel like someone definitely should’ve commented on that post and said, “hey, Matt. Knock it off.”

Oh well. I think I’ll only get political on this blog if it’s really important to me and I feel like no one else is talking about it. Or to unabashedly support Tammy Duckworth for president. (Hey, DNC chairpeople, you reading this? Do you want to get veterans to vote democrat? Because Tammy is your way to do that. She lost both her legs fighting for our country, while Trump weaseled out of Vietnam thanks to a stubbed toe. Think about the campaign ads you can make from that! They write themselves.)

3) Become an editor.

I’m talking about becoming the person who reads manuscripts and approves or disapproves them for a publishing company. (Is that called an editor? I’m gonna look into this more.) The way I see it, I’m literally being paid to read books for a living, which at the moment sounds like my ideal job.

So why won’t I?

To be honest, I may actually try to do this. I just got to look into it a little more, because I assume getting this job is a lot more difficult than I’m making it out to be. Plus, a lot of the manuscripts are going to be terrible. Though I suppose I could just stop reading if that’s the case. But what if there’s too many good ones, and I can’t accept all of them? And what if I end up rejecting the next Harry Potter and have to live with that lost opportunity for the rest of my life?

I suppose that’s a risk I’d have to take.


Now I’m sure if I were to think extra hard, I could come up with a fourth option to put on this post, but hey, good things come in threes. A post with four bullet points would be unbalanced and therefore, irresponsible. I suppose I could add a fifth point but I’m not exactly Einstein over here.

So if you know anything about becoming an editor, let me know. And if you want to pay me money to write about politics, let me know as well. And if you know of an alternative to soda that’s still bubbly and delicious, I would also be interested.

Day in the Life as a Public High School Student (Don’t Worry, This is Interesting!)

So, a lot of my blogger friends have written posts like “A Day in the Life of a Home-schooled Student,” or “A Day in the Life of Private School Student” or something cool like that. And I thought, hey, why I don’t I do the same thing? Sure, going to public school isn’t quite as interesting or unique as going to school abroad or having it at home, but I feel like some people might still be interested.

I mean, not every public high school is the same, so even though some readers may be going to one, they might be surprised to see how another one works. And all you adult readers out there may be curious to see how schools have changed since you were students. So yeah, keep reading.

5:45 AM: I wake up, press the snooze button on my phone.

5:50 AM: I wake up, press the snooze button on my phone.

5:55 AM: I wake up, press the snooze button on my phone.

(This goes on for a while)

6:15 AM: I get out of bed. I don’t have to take a shower because I took one last night (#prepared) and I recently got a hair cut, so bed hair isn’t a problem for me. I sympathize with the long-haired people in the world. You guys have it rough.

6:20 AM: I pour cereal in the bowl and realize that there’s no more milk left. I think back to any terrible deeds I may have done in the past to have deserved this, and can’t think of anything. There’s no time to make anything else, so dry cereal it is.

(Man, my life’s terrible. Feel bad for me.)

6:28 AM: I’m waiting at the bus stop, freezing and half-asleep at the same time. There’s this one obnoxious kid who listens to rap music and raps along with it (loudly) in the morning, but because the sun hasn’t come up yet I can’t seem to tell where he is.

6:40 AM: Bus comes twelve minutes late, and it becomes clear why once I see the busdriver. Oh god. It’s Elvis.

Elvis is a substitute bus driver in our school district, and has been since around for a long time. We call him that because he looks like what Elvis probably did in the last few months of his life. He’s notorious for being a horrible driver and for just generally being an unpleasant person. Personally, I just think he needs a hug. There’s no way I’m going to give him one, though.

Even though Elvis kept hitting the curbs, and he left the lights on, I still managed to spend most of the ride asleep.

7:05 AM: I get to school, stop by the library, get a pass for lunch (because I’ve got physics homework to do, bitches) and then go to the cafeteria to get some apple juice.

7:17 AM: My first class is AP English, with my possibly-murderous English teacher. This class is a breeze, because he basically just talks about symbolism and metaphors and whatnot in this book we’re currently reading, A Separate Peace by John Knowles.

8:05 AM: Pre-Calculus. This class is weird because the teacher simply doesn’t care if the students are paying attention and never checks the homework; she just continues teaching regardless of whether anyone is actually listening, which is new for me. Maybe this is her way of preparing us for college (where apparently, the professors don’t give a shit about you) but all it’s done for me is let me slack off. I spend this time working on my physics homework, which I still haven’t done.

9:00 AM: Financial Math. This is an easy class, with a really obnoxious, uptight teacher. The only way to get her in a good mood is to ask her about couponing. She loves coupons and uses them all the time, and she loves to talk about how much she saves and what she bought with them. It’s weird.

(I apologize to my Financial Math teacher, if she’s reading this. It seems unlikely, being as she should have no idea about this blog, but with my luck she probably will.)

Anyway, she wouldn’t let me make up a test today, because I missed the two days where she allowed us to do it after school. I missed the first day because I had to go to work immediately after school, and I missed the second day because I was unexpectedly sick with food poisoning. Apparently, this wasn’t a good enough excuse.

(To be fair, I made up the whole food poisoning thing. But there’s no way she could’ve known that, which means that given what she knows, she’s intentionally punishing a student for being sick.)

9:47 AM: U.S. History: I get lunch on my way to class, which is usually a turkey sandwich from the cafeteria, some goldfish, and this soda called Switch that tastes weirdly amazing. I always take the cheese off the sandwich, because it is the most appalling excuse for cheese I’ve ever seen.

We played a game of school jeopardy preparing for a test the next day. Not meaning to brag or anything, but we tied. For last place, with zero points. (We bet all in, and we lost.)

10:35 AM: This is my actual lunch period, which I spend in the library doing physics homework. Or more accurately, I spent this on my phone, looking through any notifications (“hey, Nevillegirl just responded to my comment!”) or looking through all the books despite the fact that I have two late books already and I know I can’t check any of them out. I end up sitting next to two friends of mine. One of them made a list on twitter of his twenty best “bros.” The other one, let’s call him John, is upset because 1) he wasn’t on it, and 2) most of the guys on that list are not friends with him at all.

Also, there was a fight in the cafeteria, which I missed. I’m not actually upset about it though, because I’ve never been interested in school fights unless I personally knew one of the kids involved.

11:18 AM: 3-D Ceramics, which isn’t nearly as fun as it sounds. It’s tough to describe the project we’re doing in there, because even I don’t entirely know what it is. Something to do with glue and paper. Oh well, I’m still rocking a 98 average in that class. Somehow. There’s a lot of time to talk in that class, and the primary subject of interest is usually Ebola, and how it’s going to totally kill us all.

12:10 PM: This is my physics class. I hate the subject, but like the teacher. He kind of looks like Santa Clause, yet there are occasions where, for demonstration purposes, he will sprint across the room with a speed you never would have guessed he was capable of running. I have a theory that he is actually Usain Bolt in disguise.

1:00 PM: P.E. class, where instead of actually exercising, we have to take a test on Ultimate Frisbee. What the hell, school? Why do I have to study for a test for gym? I don’t know how it used to be or how P.E. is like in other places, but I think we can all agree that this is stupid.

1:42 PM: Gym ends. A friend of mine in the locker room is selling candy for a school club of some sort. (Fun fact, people in various clubs walk around selling candy to raise money, which means that I can go around spending my money on chocolate bars and skittles instead of, y’know, healthy stuff.)

1:43 PM: I think about staying after school for Physics extra help, but I really don’t want to, so I get on the bus instead.

2:10 PM: I’m at home, and get a surprise text from my boss asking me if I could work today, 6 to 10. This is always a tough decision for me, because on one hand: i hate my job, but on the other hand: more money! Money’s great. They’re like thin green pieces of happiness.

Everything up from 2:10 to 6:00 PM is a bit of blur. I remember watching the season 4 finale of The Wire (saddest episode ever), and later falling asleep and waking up at 5:40 PM, but I don’t remember when exactly that happened.

6:00 PM: I go to work, at McDonald’s, where the customers are weirdly difficult today. Mcdonald’s customers are usually polite, but today they were ruder than I’ve ever seen them. One woman and her son were pissed off because they had to wait more than a minute for their food, and I had to explain to them that 1) the place was extremely busy at the moment, and 2) we were understaffed at the time, so she’d have to wait a little longer than usual. She then demanded to speak to the manager, who told her the exact same thing. The mother interpreted this as him (the manager) giving her attitude, made a huge fuss and then actually called the McDonald’s headquarters or whatever it’s called with the sole intention of getting him fired. Which was upsetting, because he was my favorite of all the managers.

Luckily, for every obnoxious, entitled brat of a customer, there’s another nice one who restores hope in humanity.  A guy who used to manage a Buffalo Wild Wings saw the whole thing and gave the manager his number, so he could be a witness if he ended up getting in any sort of trouble over this, because that’s the type of guy he was.

10:13 PM: I am back from work, exhausted. I get some homework done, came up with this idea for a blog post, wrote half of it, and then went to sleep.

To end this post, here’s a picture of a giraffe.

I Have to Make a Bold Statement

There comes a time in every person’s life in which they discover an incontrovertible truth; one which they know will cause controversy but must be said anyway. I have found this truth.

Perhaps this is only a biased truth, one that applies to me but not to everyone, but it is still my belief that what I say is true, and I can’t contain my feelings anymore. I’m like a tiny container, filled with water and a recently dropped Alka-Seltzer tablet (google that). I must release the lid, so to speak, before the pressure becomes too much.

I understand that I will be judged for what I am about to say. I might lose some of my followers (perhaps all of them) after this, and I guess I’d understand why. This statement is more controversial than both the Lost and How I Met Your Mother finales combined. But I hope you will all come to understand, and perhaps some of you will even agree with me one day. Either way, I hope you will not look down on me for saying this.

Pepsi is waaaaaayyyyyyy better than Coca-Cola.

Just So I Don’t Lose NaBloPoMo

Hi,  sorry for the short post. Today has been a frustrating day; I have a great idea for post but have no time write it.

And it’s even worse that phone keyboards are horrible. There’s the annoying auto correct that makes words like NaBloPoMo really hard to type it (it took me about a minute to type that), and the fact that each key is much smaller than the average human thumb.

So I leave you guys with one question: Coke Or Pepsi?