Name: Rachel (or so is the name given to me by the one who pushed me from her birthing canal. I'm just sayin')

D.O.B:october 16, 1987

So, here I am. Another year gone by and I have done nothing. NOTHING!! In the way of writing. Suckage. On the bright-side, I intend to. You just wait! I'll get something written that will knock your fucking socks off. :)

What is this profile thing about? Does anyone really want to know about the faceless author? That's okay, because I'll entertain you with a little something about me anyway... Here goes:

I want to stab every retarded driver that has ever had the audacity to drive in front of me or, god forbid, in the lane I want to change to. Why? Because nobody told them to drive at 30 mph in a 45mph. WTF is up with that? Seriously? I'm sure even you national assholes can tell what a speed limit sign looks like. The cops wouldn't have it out for you if you jack-asses would just drive like normal humans. Instead, you've become a category in and of yourselves. Nationals. We have another name for you but it's politically incorrect and I'm sure I'd get in trouble, but I have nothing against you personally; just your driving. Please refrain from driving near me ever again. Thank you. :)

I want cake. now. NOW! I made brownies, but it just wasn't the same. :( On the brightside, weight-loss total of 27 lbs in the last four months. Awesome progress, grasshopper.

I can't study if I'm on my bed. The temptation is too great! I end up taking a nap and never actually studying. Am I passing? Only barely. I'll live.

Mmmm... The boy I like is playing hard-to-get and has be been playing this silly game of his for the past 2 years. In his defense, I was playing it first. That sneaky guy, pulling my tricks on me. Silly goose, he's just making it worse for himself in the long run. I am hardly the forgiving type... J/k but not really.

My best friend hates me for some unknown reason. I hate her too.

I read postsecret and laugh knowing I really shouldn't but I do it anyway because I relate.

I love. Love. LOVE! Spaghetti sauce. (Ragu Mushroom flavor. Nothing more, nothing less. I need it.)

I hate my job. (Surprise. Surprise.)

My new best friend is gay and I love him for it. :)

I am fond of a boy, (I am allowed more that one, right?) but am currently denying any attachment because my friend has slept with him. Awkward, is it not? To talk to one who has slept with the other.

Which reminds me, I hate this town. Everyone's slept with everyone or they're related. Upsetting.

I want to go to Dallas to visit the KidRobot store. Dallas. Hah.

I dislike it when people quote music lyrics for everything in real life. Unless you're a music major, STOP IT! Dude, seriously, quote something quote-able. Movies, t.v. shows. Or better yet! Read a book and quote from there! But when you're giving barely veiled revelations of your attempt at suicide through the use of your 'lyrics' I find it hard to take you seriously. What sort of attention do you need that you've resorted to this retardation? Stop it and just tell me what you need. If you keep this shit up I'm not going to get it and you'll be left up shit creek and I doubt you own a paddle.

I need a new bookshelf.

I'll stop there to tell a story.
There once was a girl who had a crush on a boy. As fate would have it, the boy and the girl would bump into each other on frequent occasions. (Or it could have been that they lived in a small town with nothing to do.) The boy began to give the girl looks that clearly said, 'Oh my god! You're a stalker!' The girl began to feel paranoid and tried to hide whenever she'd see him. The looks intensified. Until one day, the boy had had enough of her shenanigans. "Why are you always following me? Where ever I go, you're there. When ever I go out to eat, you're there. You stare and you stare. What is wrong with you?!" The girl pondered his questions thoughtfully and answered, "How full of yourself you must be. I am where you are because we attend the same university and our classes correspond. There is but one place to go and that is the mall. Do not forget, I work at the bookstore you frequent and you work at the cellular store I have service with. I'd love to go else where but, there is but one in this city and the next one is rather out of the way. When I go to eat, I have no thought other than sustenance. Is it my fault you happen to be there when I am? How silly of you. As to why I stare, I only want to gain insight on you. My friend and I have pondered on this question for several months now. I believe you've already answered my question, but I will enlighten you on what it was. You wear those silly vests and those silly shoes. Your hair always falls in the right place and you seem to like UFC more than one should. Do you or do you not bat for the other team?" Flabbergasted, the boy exclaimed, "I am not gay!" The girl smiled at him and said, "Oh good. I've just won twenty dollars." And with that turned on her heels and walked away. The next time she saw him, he had a girl on his arm. He turned to her glare. She could do nothing but smile back, knowing that now his thoughts were on her. He would not be forgetting her anytime soon.