Life is good. I'm in the 8th grade now, which is tiring, but very fun. What can I say, it's FUN ruling the school. Especially when I can still think back to my 6th grade days, when I was absolutely terrified of 8th graders. And now I am one! I plow through kids in the hallway instead of dodging them, because I'm allowed!
There is one catch. I'm younger than almost everyone in my grade. I just barely made the cutoff date. Joshie was younger than me (remember him, from Yes, Even I Have Romances With my Occaisional Comedian ?) because he was British and they do grades differently than us, but he's moved to North Carolina now. :( I guess we just weren't meant to be. So anyways, I'm not sure, but I think I may be the youngest person in the 8th grade now. There's actually a 7th grader who's several months older than me... but I'm an upperclassman, so I still get seniority and the right to plow through him as I choose.
Here's how the attitudes pretty much work in our school: the 6th grade is too overwhelmed to do much but stay out of the way and occasionally look cute/ be annoying, the 7th grade is happy to be older than at least someone and is much too confident, and the 8th grade doesn't give a crap. By the way, no one reads this blog who's under 12, I don't think, and you've all heard them, and everyone does it, and I've matured a lot in the past 3 months, so I'll start using minor curse words. Yay Gracie!! Big Accomplishment!!!
Also, since I'm 13 now and becoming a surly teenager, I'll probably have a lot more posts where I'm mad at my parents. It's kind of sad, actually... because I'm the sensitive person I am, I can actually see myself getting moodier and more churlish, which I don't want to be. But whatever. I'll survive. Most teenagers do. Except for the one's that don't.
Ugh, why do I always start getting all deep when I type here?
What to write about now... tum dee dum dee dum.... well, I actually have a lot to write about, so much it's going to get a separate post. But oh yeah!
I got a Facebook! Technically I got it when I was 12, since I got it on my birthday, but before the TIME I was born (12:33pm). So suck it, Facebook! Oh yeah! Beating the system!
I was really excited about getting a Facebook because although not all of my friends from my grade have one (actually, very few friends from my grade have one... only about 5 or 6... and I have more friends then that, trust me. At least 7.), friends I don't see very often have one. I can keep in touch.
I find it funny, really, because my parents made me wait until I was 13 to sign up, but many peoples' parents didn't. There are all these people I know who are my age (or okay, since they're in my grade, a couple of months older) who are supposedly, like, 25. I'll get a notification: Blahdina Blahzini is turning 24 today. Wish her a happy birthday! I'll just smile and say something like "Oh silly Facebook... fooled so easily..."
This actually leads me into my next point: age. You have to be 13 to sign up for Facebook, but you can't do it if you're turning 13 tomorrow (believe me. I've tried.) A lot of jobs do this too-- you have to be 17 or something like that. Really, what's the difference between the last day when you're one age and the first day when you're another? Nothing really changes, does it? What's the point? If the person thinks they're mature enough, and the employer, or website, or whatever thinks the person is mature enough, what does their age have to do with anything? I think you should have to take a quiz determining whether or not you're ready to go on Facebook, regardless of your age. Because I was definitely ready for Facebook, in my late 11s, early 12s. But there are some people I see on there, older than me, who probably shouldn't be.
Well, that got a bit confusing at the end.
The moral of the story is... don't judge a book by it's cover.
That doesn't relate to the post at all, but it's a pretty foolproof moral.
Here is a picture about Facebook:
And here is just a funny picture:
Yay kitties!!!!! I love cats. Good night!
Yay, another blogpost! You churlish teen, you!
ReplyDelete