every girl’s fantasy…

Sunday morning, 8:30 a.m.

Late night, deep sleep, wake up:

Highlight of my weekend.

Why?

Because I get to pick/scratch/rub all the little eye boogers out of the corners of my eyelids.

I know, I know. GROSS. NASTY. SICK. WEIRD.

I DON’T CARE. And neither should you, for that matter.

Whether they come as morning goo in the corner of your eyes or a thick crust irritating your eye lid, eye boogers happen to the best of us, and are only natural.

In fact, eye boogers/gunk/crusties/sleep/whatever you want to call them are actually scientifically sound.

According to my good friend Wikipedia (what a trustworthy source), this thin mucus that forms around our eyelid, which may or may not dry to form a crust, is actually medically known as “rheum.”

Normally, blinking causes mucus to be washed away with tears. The absence of this function during sleep, however, results in a small amount of dry mucus forming in the corners of the eyes even among healthy individuals, especially children.

Whether you like it or not, you have eye boogers. And you have to pick/rub/scratch/pluck them out, or you will be seriously sorry.

Exhibit A:

Okay that’s just nasty, people.

Besides, what truly feels better than freeing the corners of your eyelids from that gunk that has built up overnight? Nothing, I’m telling you.

However, what’s really the greatest thing in the world  is when you have caked on the black eye makeup the night before, go to sleep, and let nature take its course.

That right there is going to form some epic eye boogers, that’s for sure…

Black eyeliner + eye mucus = a fun time for all.

And that is why there very well may be a plus side to waking up so early on a Sunday morning.

Go pick your own eye crusties.

Later,

wEirDo

secret’s out.

Okay so funny story…

I found out this weekend that half the Rockhurst junior class found my blog in computer class (thanks Joe Joe Hodes)…

So not only did John Paterini find my creepy blog about him, but I was also  called “weirdo” all weekend by every Rockhurst guy in my grade, can no longer vent about Rockhurst guys on the internet, and can now confidently confirm that I have lost all hope in getting invited to Rockhurst Junior Ring.

However…there’s always a bright side to these situations, so I’ve come up with some.

1. Apparently, I have a new readership: Teenaged, testosterone filled, smelly boys.
2. There’s no need to hide my blog anymore from the rest of the world. All humiliation is over and done with, and will hopefully not get any worse than the fact that everyday a new Rockhurst boy will enter my weird and troubled mind via my incriminating pic on Dartnewsonline.
3. I’m in the process of recruiting some Rockhurst guest bloggers. Interesting…

I’m thinking this can definitely work. So welcome, Rockhurst bloggers. I’m Kathleen Hough, and I’m weird; Sue me (but don’t judge me).

Also, fyi, I get graded on this blog. I’m on newspaper. I don’t do this in my spare time. This is school related, so to all you newbies, let’s keep it PG. Gracias.

That’s all for today… sorry that I didn’t get to a weird subject. Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll come back on Friday or something and talk about something realllly weird. Make a good first impression with my new readership, you know.

And to all you STA girls (and anyone else out there I guess): Send in some ideas for weird things I can blog about. Seriously, times are tough and I need all the feedback I can get.

For now, let me know what you think about this little stunt…I’m thinking about doing the same thing next year during Frosh Fest. I wonder if freshmen would believe it. Hope so.

That’s all for today.

Peace, losers.

wEirDo

you know last week was spring break when…

So today is the first day back from SB ’10, no regretz just memz, and I want to dieeeeeee. (Especially since DNO decided to make my horrible picture the dominant element of my blog. Thanks, Sydney, love you too.)

However, this has been the second consecutive year that I have gone to St. Pete Beach, FL…(shout out to Mimi and Grandpa, along with my cousin Martin in Cali who did the honor of unveiling my blog to the whole entire extended family this week at the dinner table.. thanks for that)…..and have not come back with a weird tan line, so I guess I have to be thankful for something today.

When I say weird tan lines, I’m not referring to:

This is not a weird tan line. This is a tool trying to be funny, and failing miserably at it.

Now this, my friends, is a weird tan line, brought to you by yours truly.

sixth grade Spring Break gone wrong, ya'll.

Unintentional, random, and awkward. More specifically;  forgetting my sunglasses at home, going to the beach, improvising, and using my hands to block the sun. There’s also forgetting to put sunscreen in random places and burning in the most random places on the body AND forgetting that you are in the hot sun and wearing clothing that will indeed leave awkward tan lines on the body. Ahh, yes, it’s all been done. By me.

However, I realized today during all of my boring classes that I cannot possibly be the only one in this world to get weird tan lines. Therefore, the minute I got home from laxii (lacrosse) practice I googled “weird tan lines.” The following are top 3 weirdest tan lines I have ever seen:

1. the ever-so-famous t-shirt tan

   

2. Everybody’s favorite: the strappy river-rafting sandal burn

   

3. and last, but certainly not the least:…burning, apparently.

That will be all for today. If you look like this, we’ll pray for you. If you don’t, be honest to God thankful that you survived Spring Break 2010 without one of these painful, weird, and awkward tan lines.

Wear sunscreen!!!

wEirDo

stop being so snotty….

Okay, so my little sister has a cold…

You know, her nose runs a lot and she has the sniffles.

So for the last three days all I’ve heard is:

“Dis is dooo annoying. Mawmm I have duch a bad cold…”

I haven’t really minded her complaining until I went into my kitchen yesterday and this is what I saw:

Now, no worries, within five minutes  my father, Michael Hough, had taken every single Kleenex out of the trash and had set it on my kitchen counter (that’s sanitary, Michael) in order for reuse. He had read my mind, though.

So I confronted MM (MaryMichael–remind me to blog about the names of the people in my family sometime; now that’s a weird topic) yesterday. I told her, why use all the tissues for just a snotty nose? There would be less trash in this world and the world would be a happier place if people would just suck it up and use their sleeves to wipe away their snot.

You can laugh/cry/make fun all day long, but at the end of it, one day you will run out of Kleenex and you will use your sleeve to wipe your nose.

It’s part of being human. So why not just skip the Kleenex step and wipe with your sleeve all the time?

If you’re that germy/weird about it, then wash your hands afterward.

Save the Kleenexes for the large sneezes or big blows of snot. Or if you reallllly want to be green, go find a STARS lax player and ask her to teach you how to snot rocket.

But that’s another story for another day.

Peace, love, and snot.

wEirDo

okay seriously, why do we pick our scabs?

What’s up weirdos?

I know, I know, it’s been way too long. I’ve been such a bad blogger lately and have abandoned you guys for the last few weeks.

However…

Last week I had the best experience in the world at Operation Breakthrough (a day care/preschool for underprivileged children). There were definitely some good things about Op Break..

One thing, making new friends and playing all day in Yellow 2.

Another, encountering something weird.

One morning I saw Je’Onna picking at something on her arm during circle time. She had an irritated look on her face for awhile and then finally pulled something off it.

I’ll never forget the look of success on her face. And then I realized what she had been picking at instead of writing “Today is Thursday” in her spirial…Yes, a scab on her little 4-year-old arm.

That got me thinking…

I’m almost seventeen years old and I still pick at scabs on my face, or peel off dry skin on my arms after a bad sunburn.

And then I realized something.

Everyone still picks their scabs. It’s a compulsive issue that’s impossible to resist.

Yes, that's a scab.

And no, I don’t care that you think scab picking is disgusting/repulsive/improper, because I know you do it from time to time.

But it’s okay.. we all do it, so I’m convinced that that makes it okay.

But why do we do it?

According to SkinPick.com, picking scabs is a remarkably self-perpetuating way to act out obsessive-compulsive tendencies that often signal an underlying, often as-yet-undiagnosed mood or anxiety disorder. Patients often describe the experience as comforting even though painful. And very unsightly.

There seems to be a great deal of shame associated with this obsessive-compulsive skin picking behavior, even moreso than in other types of skin picking. Many people who suffer with this compulsion know they are doing something that is considered undesirable, even disgusting (to others), but they find it almost impossible to stop nevertheless.

Here’s what I say:

As if.

We pick our scabs because we’re bored, or we don’t like the way they look on our body parts. And quite frankly, we shouldn’t care what others think, because they pick their scabs all the time. Anyone who acts like they’re better than scabs should be made fun of..all the time. What hypocrites.

My opinion: Picking our scabs from time to time won’t hurt anything. We’re basically peeling off a piece of skin and throwing it on the ground..

Let’s just say I would rather have a pink, sore piece of skin on my knee rather than a brown, crusty layer formed on top. As soon as I can slip my nail under the frayed edge of hardened blood, the exercise begins; the only thing I want to do when one of those little rascals forms is peel it off and flick it away. And I know you would do the same if you had a large scar on your body.

However…

Eating your scabs?

Okay, people, that is where I draw the line.

Seriously, that is so wrong on so many different levels.

PLEASE

Peel it off and either:

a) fold it up in a Kleenex

b) throw it in the trash

c) flick it on the floor and walk away

And, side note: Don’t overdue it. One scab a month, or else. Dermatologists actually know what they’re talking about, unlike me, and overpicking your scabs will lead to excessive, gross scarring.

Just remember:

Pick one scab and leave the others alone.

Make the one your friend.

l8r.

wEirDo

thank goodness it’s Friday

Hellooo, fellow bloggers:

Ohhhhhhh, it’s been way too long. I feel like I haven’t discussed weird things in forever!

But after Ms. Hoecker just topped off my nightmare of a week by giving me a uniform violation SBR during passing period, I realized that I needed to come up to the publication room and vent about my life to you all.

Besides the fact that I am soooo mad about this “student behavioral report” and how I have to be on blue sheet next year (which is so annoying, and so unweird), my main purpose for writing this is to share with you all the many weird things that have been happening to me this week.

NUMBER ONE:

I am finally starting to see my arm again after eight days of an unidentifiable rash taking over my whole entire body.

Where did it come from? Good question.

Here’s kind of what it looks like, for all you visual people.

[WARNING: THAT IS NOT MY BODY PART.]

Jow (a nickname given to Jill Hough, my mother who highly disapproves of this weirdo blog) has been claiming all week that this rash is “severe dry skin,” therefore no doctor’s visit was ever planned and I’ve been living with hives all week. My nurse-in-training sister Molly finally told me on Tuesday that it was an allergic reaction to something, and to treat it with anti-inflammatory cream.

Good thing Jow had previously told me to put Cetaphil lotion

on my allergic reaction for 4 consecutive days prior.

The outcome: swollen, itchy red bumps that spread to my torso, back, and legs. Thanks for the advice, Jow.

NUMBER TWO:

Later on Tuesday, I realized that I had been itching and scratching my stomach way too often. I figured that my rash had just spread (which it had). Then, when I was changing after school, I felt something really painful basically rip. I looked down, and my belly button was all red inside. It was kind of scabby and really swollen.

I’ve concluded that not only do I have a rash, but I also have a belly button infection.

I’m thinking this infection is pretty rare. I couldn’t even find a picture of a similar belly button on Google, if that helps prove anything.

All in all, it’s been a reaallyy weird, disgusting, rashy week. I am also wondering just now, as my 11/12 Friday free in the publications room is ending, how I could have possibly humiliated myself so much in the last 40 minutes. There goes my Rockhurst junior ring date. Out the door.

I promise, I shower every night. I guess the weird gods are just throwing me a curveball this week by giving me all these weird body issues.

I must say, I don’t think I would have been able to get through this tough week without this AWESOME CD my friend Sophia gave me last week.

Top songs: “Cooler than Me” by Mike Posner.

And how could I forget…”Hey Moon!” by John Paterini. It’s an original song by Rockhurst junior John Paterini himself, and it is so awesome.

So John Paterini, I know you have no idea who I am, but this is your shoutout from Kathleen Hough’s weirdo blog:

P.S. John Paterini, I hope you never find this because I will be truly embarrassed.

Anyway, back to my lifesaving CD. Basically every time I got into my car this week and turned up the volume, one of these songs was playing. I think the reason why I liked them so much was because they reitterated the fact that everyone is cooler than me, or that my life is in shambles where every morning I wake up, feeling sick. It was nice to have someone bash on myself with myself, if you can understand that.

So thank you, Sophia Garozzo, for saving my life this week.

And thank you, bloggers, for listening to my loooooong sob story.

Peace, love,

wEirDo

no pain, no game

This is Ima weIrdO’s first ever guest blog and I’m sooo excited!!!

Allow me to introduce my fellow weIrDo, Katie McCombs.

Enjoy her thoughts on the pros and pleasures of canker sores..yumm.

————————————————————————————————-

Hi, I’m Katie McCombs. Welcome to my guest blog!  I just wanted to point out to you all that IMA WEIRDO too!

Let’s start out this blog with the prime factor of my weird-ism, the definition of canker sores.

Canker Sore: noun 1. an ulceration of a mucous membrane, especially of the mouth. 2. A small, painful ulcer of the mucous membrane of the mouth; an aphtha.

Now that’s just delightful.

Even though these definitions sound ultimately unbearable for a human to ever contract and/or manage, they make me smile. In fact, I like to call them cankies. 

Cankies can range from a simple annoyance to a severely painful, bloody, typically white sore, usually in the mouth, that can interfere with normal oral activity and come in small, medium, or large sizes. THere are two types of cankies:

• Cankie #1 – a big mama on the inner, bottom lip and two little guys drifting around the gum area

According to good ole’ animated-teeth.com, the cause of cankies is not well understood. But, the little boogers have something to do with an abnormal response of the sufferer’s immune system.

All you people with braces: canker sores can be your worst nightmare. A thin, metal wire rubbing and poking up against an open, bloody wound inside the mouth is a braceface’s worst fear. You should be scared.

You might wonder what I’m getting to after all these gruesome definitions, scenarios, and pictures…. Hate to break it to ya, but I like my lil’ canks. I like the pain that comes with them, as weird and creepy as it sounds. However, I do not like a bloody, crusty massacre on the outside of my face that causes me to look like a complete hooligan. I like them inner canks.

This poor little guy suffers from major canky issues young. You know your canks are getting out of hand when it looks like you got a lip implant at age 5:

Which brings me to my next case:

• Cankies #2 (rare case) – big canks inside the mouth that have caused external puffiness and lip plumpness

When I personally feel a canky forming, whether it’s inside my bottom gum/lip, upper gum/lip, inner cheek, or the typical tip of the tongue, I immediately take action. Because cankies come with so much pain, I take the initiative and try to start getting rid of them before I look like that little boy in cankies #2.

First, I usually bite down on my victim (canky) with my sharpest teeth, my canines. The canine method is only good for tongue cankies, however. I use the tip of my pencil or anything else sharp to poke at it and try to dismember the sore from my tongue (don’t try this at home). I’m going to stop at that and leave out the other weird, grotesque details.

I really only prey on tongue canks because the pain actually feels like you’re healing it. I try to leave the lower/upper gum/lip, inner cheek canks alone because I discovered that you can get afflicted with major medical mouth issues. One time, I had a little cank on the inside of my check, which is common for me. The next day it started getting bigger. Then, what do ya know, I have another lil’ cank directly opposite it on my other cheek. For probably a month, I looked like a fat chipmunk and couldn’t talk/eat/drink without pain. So, don’t mess around with those boogers or you’ll end up like me or that poor little boy.

Oh, and just my luck, the very next month, I got two more lil’ opposite canks, this time, on the right and left sides of my upper lip.

Before you all think that I’m some type of cannibalistic weirdo who eats off pieces of my tongue and cheek, I just want you to know that I am not alone on this weird-ism. My friend Meg Nulton shares the same urge I do, except I believe her case is a little more severe than mine. She messes with those lower/upper gum/lip canks. Weird, I know.

So, if you don’t like the wonderful masses of pain God joyfully inserts into the unusual places of our mouths, then be a downer, go buy some Orajel, and quit complaining about it.

Does that couple look happy to you? I didn’t think so.

Thanks for hearing me out,

Katie

—————————————————————————————————-

I hope you enjoyed Katie’s blog!! If you’re interested in writing a weird blog of your own, please email your name, school, and suggestions to houghkathleen@gmail.com.

See you next week!

wEirDo

I want YOU to write a guest blog!

Would you like to share the weird things you do with the rest of the world?

I think you do!

Just send an email to houghkathleen@gmail.com with:

Your Name

Your School

Your Grade

Something Weird That You Do

and Why You Want People to Know About It

And maybe YOU can blog next week about the weird topic of your choice.

It’s so simple, so send an email!

jumping in your sleep?

No, not this kind of jumping.

By the way, sorry about Thursday. I know that I promised another blog post but I got way too wrapped up in our SNOW DAY (yay) to think about weird things.

However, I hope all of you took advantage of our long weekend and hypnotized yourself! If so, I want to hear all about it.

Back on topic. Imagine this:

You’re laying in your bed, snuggled up under the covers. Your eyes flutter shut, and you start to drift off to sleep.

And then, something kinda crazy happens..

You feel like you are falling off your bed, suspended in mid-air.

Then your whole body jumps/twitches, and you open your eyes. You are in the exact same position that you started to fall asleep in.

How annoying, I know.

But, how comforting is it to discover that this happens to everyone else too?

You aren’t as weird as you thought you were.

xOxO,

wEirdO

social what?

Okay, I know this post isn’t going to be up to our normal standards, but I really wanted to share with you guys something that is SOO weird!!

As few of you may know, today is World Hypnotism Day (weird in itself), and, naturally, some hypnotist decided it would be really cool to hypnotize as many people as possible via the Internet.

Also today, naturally, I was searching Weird News on AOL, when I came across Chris Hughes’ (the hypnotist–creepy, huh?) little endeavor to set the Guinness World Record for the most people hypnotized at one time.

(Read more about it here.)

I did some research, found the website that he planned to use for his hypnosis, and clicked on the link. There it was: the website…right in front of me…one click away.

Despite what the article above said about having to register for the hypnosis in advance, I discovered a new message displayed on Hughes’ website:

DUE TO SUDDEN LATE DEMAND, THE HYPNOTISM WILL NO LONGER OCCUR OVER LIVE STREAM AND REGISTRATION IS NOT REQUIRED. PLEASE CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW TO PARTICIPATE.

My reaction:

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME.

I immediately stopped reading The Devil and Tom Walker (sorry, Mr. Fast), clicked the link, and followed Chris Hughes’ soothing voice.

Now that I just finished, I am so happy that I wasted 20 minutes of my life participating in this wacky endeavor. It was probably one of the weirdest experiences of my life.

Even though I wasn’t told to dance like a chicken or fall in love with a strawberry, I was in this weird, alert, sleep state. At one point, Hughes said to try to open my eyes, and I literally couldn’t! I tried so hard to open them, but they were glued shut.

Then he counted slowly to five, and I was wide awake! Now I feel really alert and relaxed. Anyway, it was just really weird.

And why am I telling you this?

Because I want you to do it too!

It’s totally worth it, so please give it a shot.

http://www.socialtrancelive.co.uk/

See you Thursday,

wEirDo

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