Ugh. Beyond blah. Bought what I thought was a Team Jacob shirt, but actually a Team Edward. I think I may die with shame.

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If you were me, you might get the idea that wild animals kind of hate my guts.

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Have you ever noticed how when you ask someone the time, they always say, "Now?" 'Tis slightly infuriating and always tempts me to say, "No, in 5 minutes, obviously!"

While on time and my annoyances, do you ever notice when someone looks at the clock and you then ask them what the time is, they always look again. Like, what were you looking at the clock for in the first place? Or do you just have a seriously short attention span?

xx Miss Moi

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I had one bout of running.

It happened last week. It was an average Sunday afternoon, and I was faced with the pile of homework I was kind of of meant to do last week, and decided it was the perfect oppurtunity to start the fitness routine I've been meaning to do for, what is it now, years? Anyway, enough of that, back to my story. So, I went for a run. Not just a 'that was such a big hill, time to sit down' (I say this because that is the majority of my PE class). This was a super duper half hour, continious run, where I ran continiously for half an hour. Oh yeah. That's right.

So I came home totally refreshed and proud of my awesome running skills. Had dinner, avoided homework, went to sleep, etcetera, etcetera. Woke up in the morning and - kablamoo. Complete and utter pain. Like you would not believe. All up and down my legs. As I stepped. Every step. ... Sorry, I just had to take a moment I was reliving the utter PAIN that I had. So burrrrrr, fast forward, rewind, stop, hobbling to school with my friend and trying to act like, hey, this is good, this is fat burning and pure muscle forming! (I think I may have actually pulled something, but anyway). And she asks me, 'Miss Moi, did you stretch?' Silence. Silence. Silence.

Stretch? What is this? I do not stretch. That is what you do in primary school where you fly your arms everywhere and try to hit the other kids. People actually stretch? This is serious news to me. Anyway, I decided not to let this little hiccup get the better of me and went for a SECOND RUN. Note the capital letters, as this is an important part in you realising truly how much of an idiot I am. I mean, you can see the ending already, but no, I of course though I had struck gold. Sigh.

Anyways, got home, put on some deep heat (liquid heaven), did some demented stretches and got back out there! It actually wasn't too bad, the pain had kind of faded, it was a beautiful day, I'm young, free, invincible... Next morning. Oh. My. God. Literally cannot bend my legs. Think they may have to be amputated. Am considering how this will affect my chances at being an olympic runner. May have to give up this fleeting dream. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

xx Miss Moi

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The way I see it, there are three types of blogs.

1. The Diary Style. Normally daily, just titbits of the authors life. To tell you the truth, it only really works if you have an interesting and awe-inspiring life. Which sadly, I do not. It would mostly involve a lot of complaining about assignments, some stuff about the weather and many mentions of chocolate.

2. The Comment Style. Commenting on current stuff, mostly celebrities, movies, etc. All well and good, but what happens if you don't have a strong opinion on something? What happens if you are interested to see New Moon, but aren't queueing up for the midnight session? Or, yeah, Miley Cyrus pisses you off, but you kind of like her songs?

 3. The Funny Style. Just plain hilarity. Completely random things that make you laugh. The last, and possibly the hardest, blog. 'Cos basically, you just need to be freaking funny. Which again, I am not.

And then there's me. Hm. Random writing that I'm not even sure people actually read (although I do have four followers - thankyou so much guys, I think you may be clinically insane, but thankyou!) and I have constant arguments in my head about actually writing. (No, seriously, you think those two little people on your shoulders doesn't actually happen, I have news for you.) (It does.)

I think I've proved my point by writing a blog about writing other blogs. Makes sense, right?

xx Miss Moi

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Yes, I know, I'm a horrible blogger, what am I even writing for, who do I think I am, 2 blogs and then KABLAMOO, nothing for 2 months. But such is life, my sweet. Deal with it.

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