Harmful Neglect

Luckily as a child I was never neglected. Sure, there were the days that we walked to school in blizzards and I would shove Emma in snowbanks and Elijiah would smack me with his backpack while riding by on his bike. Or the times that Dad would babysit for "Mom's Weekend Off" when my diet consisted of donuts and licorice (at the time though, that was heaven.) But despite my safe, warm, and 99% sheltered life (it would be 100% if it wasn't for the flasher in Butcherknife) I have not learned how from my parents how to not neglect things. I neglected my beta fish; it never even had a name because I just called it Beta and fed him four times a year yet he lived seven years until he "died" and I flushed him. Being boring seemed like a good reason to give him the fishy death penalty, thus why I am determined that until I live with someone who will make sure I don't love my pet or forget to feed it or flush it down a toilet when it turns grey while refusing to die at a normal fish life span of two years, I shouldn't have pets. And now, like my Beta, I have neglected you.

My mom got here last Wednesday and I am yet to inform you of the insanity that has occured since. Here is a brief overview: tearless (surprisingly) airport reunion, scary bus ride to Center, walk to hostel, salad for dinner, bed, birthday spent running all over in pissing rain (no other explanation) heritage museum, archeological museum, STARBUCKS, swinging in a park, super yummy clams for dinner, taking a shot that was actually not a shot and looking like idiots, bed, more park walking, bus taking, patatas bravas, STARBUCKS, churches, not being able to find food and considering asking a homeless man for a beer and apple, and a ridiculous amount of sleeping. That catches you up to... today. I think. Then again, my memory is kind of a joke and I am fairly sure that wasn't four days worth of stuff. I also sent my blog to a few newspapers, and if this is all they read, they are going to for sure thing I am some run-on sentence queen with little to no writing ability. Which, I am. Well, the run-on queen part anyway.)

Every night before I go to bed, the fifteen thoughts that I can't stop thinking should be put into blog form so that I remember them. Apperantly though, my typing is similar to a mouse running all over the floor with high heels. If, you know, there were high heels the correct size for a mouse. When I was in elementary school we started a program called Type To Learn and I passed all 12 levels in two weeks. So much for a semester worth of practice. Perhaps I should join a competitive typing team. "Hi, I am Michelle, and one interesting thing about me is I got a gold medal in Olympic Speed Typing." At least I would never be at a loss for what to tell peope is unique about me. Usually I say things like "I hate bananas." Super original, that's a conversation piece for ya.

The issue is that with my outrageously loud typing, I tend to be a very annoying person to be in a room with when I have a sudden burst of "I have to write this out right this second" blog energy. It usually results in a twenty minute nervous break down of key pounding. After being chastised for this on a regular basis, I have typing insecurity. Some girls may think they are fat or ugly or have bad hair, but I am terrified to type in front of people who aren't forced to love me, like my mom or Beta.

The second part to my neglection is that I have random busy days and then finally get a few hour chunk to write and of course can't remember anything interesting. (I think I just made that neglection word up. You can call me Dr. Seuss) When I do get those moments of blog inspiration it is usually when I am zoning out in the middle of a class or a two hour walking tour. A side effect of this is that when I do post, it looks kind of nerdy to post three separate blogs on one day. Might as well make it a long one, but I get too distracted so I can't pull that off. At some point, I will go back through here and think of all the details of my day that were more important than the huge paragraph sentence run-on that I gave you. But until I can catch up, I will continue neglecting just a tiny bit and will go eat a Snickers and try to force myself into a blog-spration. (Blog inspiration. I need to cut back on the Tinto de Verano so I stop thinking I am outrageously clever over things that are clearly just the product of crazy and a spelling deficiency.)