I am going to punch my alarm clock in the jugular: a post completely unrelated to what I just said (but I am bloody tired)

my face almost every second of the day, erp

(the cat, not the girl, geez)

Being an introvert (all the extroverts be like *eyerolling so hard their eyes fall back into their skulls*), I get all the energy sucked from my body when I am social. Too social. Like Disneyland is a dadgum nightmare and a half. So many strangers walking around and talking and screaming and spreading measles and stuff. ~~**STreSs~~**

Going grocery shopping alone is my jam. Especially in the morning when hardly anybody else is there. So what I am saying is if Superman was an introvert then the sun=his alone time. Did that make anyyyy sense at all? Nah? Read the comic books then.

All of this talk about being introverted brings me to this: I am hecka good at writing notes/letters. Talking to people face to face is hard, but I could write notes to strangers all day. And in high school, I did just that. I left notes in people's lockers, underneath empty milk cartons, in the coin slot at the payphone outside the gym, and in the vending machine. They were all signed "Your Friendly Neighborhood Lunchlady." It gave me an insane amount of satisfaction....I, McKenzie, was communicating with people in an anonymous fashion, hopefully giving them something to think about (like mashed potatoes), and then wonder "Who is this FNL?" I know, it's not as catchy as "Zorro," but gimme a break, I was 16.

A couple of years ago, I sent out a message to the randos of the internet (via tumblr) asking any of my followers if they wanted a letter from me, and if they wanted me to write about anything in particular. I wrote like four letters to strangers, and all of them were about 5 pages each. I wish I had copies of those letters, because I think they were complete nonsense and would make good stand-up material now. So, thesis of my essay here: I can talk anyone's ear off.... if it's on paper.

Last night, I got to relive my glory dayz. GLORY BE!!

Visual aids

special s/o to Barnes and Noble for still existing even though Borders pulled a Titanic and went under #toosoon

SERIOUSLY SO MANY ADJECTIVES STAHP PLS

there were like 50 books here with the same title

so I wrote

"Ok so ANSWER then!" 

Had to.

my mom says I'm a hipster now because I have a longboard to go with my holey Vans.

these aren't the holey vans nor is this my longboard. deal wit it.

Also I have a sweet scrape on both of my patellas from aforementioned longboard.

I haven't mastered how to...um...slow down?

So the story goes like this: on Tuesday my longboard showed up on my porch.

That night I took it out for a spin and I was like "this board is smooth like butter."

Then that gave me a hankering for popcorn obviously, so I made some and had to floss extra that night. #irrelevant

The next night after volleyball, I took it out for another spin in the church parking lot, which just so happens to be adjoined to the temple parking lot. My board must've wanted me to go to the temple (it's one of those special boards...) and I rode it all the way over there! Eric-face joined me for a few seconds but then he listened to the Spirit (and the no trespassing sign) and stayed where he was.

I, however, did not see the sign and gosh, the temple is really pretty, okay? Pretty soon I was airborne and yeah I'm going to edit the story for the sake of my dignity.

Eric drove himself on over in Rawnduh (yep that's his car's name and I even spellchecked it with him, in case you were wondering) and told me I should probably turn around because of "the law" and "no trespassing" and shtuff, and then I grabbed onto the back of his car for .5 seconds, at which point my mother's face flashed across my cerebellum, and I was imagining myself 10 seconds into the future saying "I've made a huge mistake."

So I let go. And he sped off and now I'm a master longboarder!

Cept sometimes I get scared when I have to make super-speedy turns, kbye.