Kendra: 10% Water and 90% Melodrama

I turned seventeen this last November. An age that is expected to bring some sort of maturity into a person’s life. So with this age, comes great responsibility…. the expectation of holding your own, and getting a job. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have my own income and no longer have to beg my father for gas money. But in this crappy beyond crap state the economy is in, finding a job is not such an easy thing. I’m pretty sure if I even were to get a job right now, I’d be let go next week due to a decrease in everything that once brought profit to this great nation. In all seriousness, it seems like every place of employment has recently posted “Now Firing” sign on their door. So what’s the solution to this delima, well I’m an easy on the eyes gal, so if worse comes to worse, and Obama doesn’t step it up… I’ll just take to the streets… Hah Just Kidding, Mom. But for real, desperation is kicking in. Hire Me!

Some people are afraid of spiders. Some have a fear of heights. Others are terrified of never finding true love and living all alone with 90 cats for the rest of their life. But me? I have the biggest phobia of saran crap. It’s nothing to laugh at, people! It’s serious. This sticky cling wrap is just as deadly as any weapon a human being can get their hands on. It’s difficult to manuever for the small task it’s meant to acomplish. And if used the wrong way it can litterally kill you. Worse case senario it gets wrapped around your head and sufficates you to death. And yet it’s in every kitchen in America. Come on people, lets stick to foil.

From Xanga, to MySpace, to Facebook and now… Kendra’s Blog A website where I can talk about anything I feel like and get a grade for it. My dream come true. But unlike the other web sites/blogs (aka life substitutions) this one will actually be worth reading, I hope. As long as I have something to talk about, which has never been a problem in the past.

See I have this gift, or possibly curse: The ability to talk for what seems like a life time without really saying anything at all. But not in an anoying, make-you-wanna-grab-a-sharp-object-and-reinact-a-scene-from-Saw, sort of way. More like a smooth, make-you-think-you’re-actually-hearing-something-of-substance, sort of way. When in all actually, it’s just a combination of a great imagination and ability to keep a straight face through anything.

Being able to ramble with this amount of determination and concentration seems a bit redundant. After all, the whole idea of rambling is based on talking without any sort of purpose. But I’m not talking about being able to just spit out words and form a sentence to waste time. I’m talking about being able to pursuade anyone that you have something to say no matter what it is you are saying. This talent can be used for a number of things. Whether it’s to talk your way out of a sticky predicament, to keep eye contact with a gorgeous suitor or simply to see the look of dissapointment on a loved ones face when you stop talking and they realize they’ve just been fed a load of manure. It’s like they’ve been waiting in line for a Britney Spears concert only to find that it’s really the guy from America’s Got Talent that impersonates her. That sort of dissapointment is somehow so amusing as long as you’re not the one feeling it.

So what’s the point of this? My point exactly.