Filed under: great finds, photography | Tags: angst, depression, dresser, hate, history, ID card, jealousy, Laguardia High School, teenager, teenagers
Apparently, one of the quirks of owning used furniture is discovering the history/stories behind it.
This morning – after adopting my dresser exactly 9 1/2 months ago – I opened my dresser drawer and noticed the sound of crinkling paper in between the frame and the drawer case. This often happens, as I find old receipts people lost, old pictures, or old movie tickets. Today, I found the story of an angst ridden teenager, secretly lashing out at a classmate.
Who is this Angelina*? Why was she hated? Was she just prettier? Was she a bitch? Did she just happen to steal a boy? Or rather, who was the bitter frenemy with the green marker, the previous owner of my dresser? Was it really that important that she had to scan someone else’s ID in, print it out, and then write on it angrily? Where is she now? Following the birthdate on the ID card, she was born in 87, and so is around 21 years old now.
Hell, are there even two people involved? Maybe this was a girl who hated herself, and felt compelled enough to rant-scribble about it.
Either way, it makes me think of things I tossed out as a kid. Does someone in the world currently own it now? Wouldn’t it be cool if we could learn the history of our belongings?
*Name has been changed to protect this person’s privacy.
Filed under: conversations, observations | Tags: biweekly, definition, dick, English, fortnight, genius, hate, love, stupidity
Biweekly is the most retarded word that exists in the English language.
Many of you have argued that it means twice a week, or once every two weeks. As a matter of fact, it means both. Yeah. Exactly. Check it.
So to keep things clear, from now on, I’ll use the word fortnight (fourteen nights – yeah, leave it up to the English language to deprecate perfectly senseful words). Fuck “biweekly.”
Which idiot came up with that idea?
“Hey, here’s a word. It means one thing, but also means something else, and they can both make sense in the same context so the meaning is completely ambiguous.”
“Isn’t that confusing?”
“If by confusing, you mean awesome, then yeah, it’s confusing.”
“You’re a genius! I love you.”
“Thank you. I hate you.”
“What?”
“No, it’s okay. I hate you means I love you too.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Yeah I am.”
