fuck henry david thoreau.

well. looks like i have some catching up to do. i skipped last week's f.t.g. cause i was 'really busy' (read: sick as hell). so without further ado:

fuck henry david thoreau.

i read walden when i was in 9th grade and it was alright, but all of that is neither here nor there. the thing that really stuck with me was the healthy dose of high school a-squad hate the day i gave my presentation on this oh-so-beloved book. my presentation was fine, if a bit nerdy, but it was what happened immediately after that cemented hdt in my mind as a harbinger of shitty shit.

let me just take a minute to ask if he was such an outdoorsman why does he look like such a pussy? I don’t believe it. not for a minute. i mean, look at those gentle, gentle eyes? he’s like the modern day bear grylls; as soon as the cameras are off he’s off to the nearest sofitel for some HBO and eggs benedict. and there's nothing wrong with that. believe me. i hate roughing it. i really do. i think marie antoinette got it right with le petit trianon. that 'rustic cottage' was neither rustic or a cottage. props. so you don't have to front henry. we'll still like you.

also, bear grylls? sounds like something krissy and i would call a grizzly bear if we were pressed for time.

anyways, as I make my way back to my seat, I pass nicole szelk (although extremely popular, she was def a bear grylls…and a serious asshole) and notice she’s eyeballing me a little more intently than i’m comfortable with. i had been the new girl at this behemoth school for about a month, fresh from my sweet lutheran day school and was trying not to make a spectacle of myself. i was soon to learn though that it didn’t matter how little waves you made; they’ll find you anyways. and i have henry david thoreau to thank.

by the way this is her:



it never helped that she was really pretty.

so i sit down and realize she’s still staring at me with what can only be called ‘murder eyes’. what on earth could be wrong with her?? as if that weren’t enough, she continues to stare and mouths: YOU’RE A BITCH.

what?!?!? really!?!?!? i mean if you’re gonna call me anything shouldn’t it have been loser? or schmuck? or total nerd?

i will go on record, swearing on a stack of bibles that it was so out of the blue and unprovoked that i actually turned around and looked for someone more appropriate that she could be talking to. maybe there was a girl sitting behind me strangling her puppy and little sister at the same time? nope. she was definitely talking to me and i was definitely peeing in my pants.

as for how this one ends, i went up to her after class and asked 'can we talk about it?'. of course she looked at me in total disgust and told me to get away from her. but who can blame her for that? who can respect such an obvious wimp? fast forward a couple years, and i was semi-popular and i guess that she reconciled that it would be alright to not hate me. but i could still see the loathsome grimace from time to time. fast-forward to last year and i can only imagine the dilemma she went through deciding whether to accept my facebook request. fast-forward to now: she's a mama and a wife and probably doesn't give a shit about me.

so fuck you henry david thoreau. obviously you via me brings out the worst in people.