Sydney Vs. Kaylee; an Intro to Me

Dear Sydney,

I would say "dear diary", but that is so cliche and unoriginal. Something I clearly don't want to be. Besides, "dear diary"... Yeah, it pretty much screams "I'm a hopeless seventeen-year-old drama queen, living in a world she complains about every stupid day, whilst also juggling teenage love, and the backstabbers we high schoolers call our BFF's".

So when I say "dear Sydney", it makes me forget for a brief, happy moment that I'm classified as the brutal statement above.

And Sydney is truly an awesome name. I'm still unsure of why I wasn't fit to live with it. I mean, okay, I'll give my mom a break being that she had to endure a zillion hours of labor just to pop me out. I'm guessing that due to drugs, she must've been like, "KAYLEE! Let's name her Kaylee!" instead of going with what she and my Uncle Dave had intended to name me, AKA Sydney, the most awesome name in the world, that I wish I could type in the corner of my English essays instead of the ugly, boring "Kaylee" as I'm subjected to now.

I really should beat my dad over the head with a stick over this matter. But I guess it's not entirely his fault. My mom was probably quite the monster during labor, and after her declaration of my name, he most likely didn't even want to attempt to disagree with her. I can only imagine how truly terrifying my mother must've looked. She was probably all red and blotchy in the face, make-up-less no doubt, but then again, I'd love to know someone who actually goes through labor looking super model gorgeous the entire time. It's not possible.

People continually say to find a guy who thinks you look the best at your worst, but I just don't know. There is no way a guy is ever gonna look at me on a hospital bed, puffing and huffing and screaming away, and think to himself, "That is the most amazingly beautiful woman I have ever seen." Because, no, you KNOW you've seen better than that, believe me.

So anyways, I'm unfortunately stuck with the burden of the name Kaylee. Upon asking my mom over the reasoning of my name, I've found out I was actually named after someone. Actually, two someones.
She said, "I read in the newspaper once that a couple, named Kay and Lee, had just given birth to a daughter. They combined their names to make Kaylee, and I liked the name."

So basically, I'm figuring that two random people, no doubt Chinese or something (I mean, 'Lee'? C'mon), are walking around with happy little smiles on their faces, without a clue in the world that they are the reason I suffer every single day. Basically, I'm hunting down this 'Kay' and 'Lee' and shooting them for leaving me cursed with this name. And then give a pitying look to their poor daughter.

I guess it's not really that bad. I'm just still a bit upset that I only found out two weeks ago that the Momster was actually going to name me my favorite name ever, but instead, chose some weird Chinese-ish name, which doesn't help when it comes to people pointing out that I look somewhat Chinese.

I don't, though. I have huge brown eyes, not squinty weird ones (no offense to the chinks out there... and that sounded racist in itself, ugh, I suck). I was actually voted this year in my senior class as "Best Eyes". Not to brag or anything, but... Okay, yes, I'm bragging. But I just thought that was pretty cool.

Anyways, never expect me to REALLY talk about my day in here. I mean, okay, go ahead and expect it sometimes. I will occasionally, but I'm basically just going to use this thing to rant and vent in. Myspace doesn't offer the privacy away from my high school that I'd like. I'm pretty much screwed if this blogspot place becomes a hit there.

Which it won't. We are a high school literally surrounded by cornfields. We have a total of not even THREE HUNDRED students all together, seventy-five percent of which are hicks and tend to farm for fun(?) for some weird reason, while the twenty-five percent I include myself in... We're somewhat civilized and just don't belong there Seriously. If any of those seventy-five percent hicks ever saw this entry, they'd literally jump out of their seats and be like, "OmGZzz she typezzz guuud!!!" Well, okay, more along the lines of, "Dang tootin'! What's this newfangled 'blog' thang?"

I apologize; that's total exaggeration.

... Eh, for some people anyway.

I'm quite sorry that I have to begin a blog with such a terribly boring entry. And yes, feel free to cower under a rock at my grammar.. Even though I'm not sure why you would want to 'cower under a rock' when I'm sure you're sitting on a chair that is readily available to cower under instead..

Um, yes, anywho, I tend to write and use big words and phrases and sentences and .. I'll stop now. Basically speaking, just words a seventeen-year-old such as myself wouldn't normally use. Yes, I'm seventeen and using my spare time to write in this blog thing. Whoop-dee-freaking-do. I have no life. Maybe I should just be shot and get over this suffering through my teenhood.

Believe me, future postings from me are sure to scare the living daylights out of you because I've been known to talk about three topics more than just about anything else.

The first topic would be love. You see, I experienced true love, fell victim to its clutches, and... eventually fell into a depressing dark, black hole in space that I'm not really sure if I ever came out of. So, I'm not one of those hopeless romantics that talk of love and yet, they know nothing about it. I learned the hard way about it after a year of happiness... to just have it all crash down with a sickening plummet. You'll mostly find me ranting about this if I'm having a bad day because I usually stick to more depressing topics that actually have nothing to do with my day when said bad day occurs.

My second topic... boys. Oh, yes, boys. The bane(s?) of my existence. I have been thrown around so much that I don't even know what a nice boy is anymore. They all have these beautiful alluring eyes, to which I fall under their captivating spell, and eventually... I'm sitting in front of the computer telling all you fine people how horribly wrong someone is for me, or how a boy has gotten a hold of my heart and won't let go even though he is a perfect example of evolution gone wrong... although, I am a Christian, so the theory evolution doesn't really pertain to me.

Third topic? Absolute randomness. This is what I talk about when I am in a good mood. You can find me ranting about Hannah Montana or my fanfics in these kinds of moods, my extremely strange dreams (believe me, I have had the same dream of a T-rex destroying my town since I was like, eight), my unabolishable (is that even a word?) love for Diet Dr. Pepper, Vitamin Water, subway pizza, spaghettios, or peanut butter... and other such stuff that no one really cares about except myself.

Well, now that I've kinda introduced you.. Except, well, to FF-net'ers. You can find me there as Broken Oken. Read and review my stories... "Dear Stupid" is apparently what I'm known for on there. It's a Moliver and sure to give you a chuckle or two, as my many loyal fans have told me. A zillion hugs to those people <3

Good enough for a first post? Alright. Sounds lovely.

Much love,
Kaylee <3