Arg. Frustration.

Sometimes I realllly wish this blog was anonymous. If it were, I would surely feel much more freedom to actually write what's on my mind. I include a lot to this journal, but it is not a true journal in that I cannot have free reign and type whatever. It's starting to bug me more and more; I just wish I could write anonymously.
New subject. Kind of. I've been thinking, and mysterious people are much more interesting; people like them more. Now, this seems rather "duh," but I mean really. People who do not reveal much about themselves are better off in a lot of ways. They are much more intriguing.
Prime example: My math teacher started off the very first class talking allll about ... herself. She has a website. And it tells a lot. Blatantly. She states her husband's name. She states the fact that she has cats. She sates her cats' names. She tells, if I remember correctly, the church she goes to. She is just a bland person. My English teacher started off the very first class... smiling. And explaining rules. And enthusiastically explaining to the class what we would be doing throughout the year. She has never talked about herself. At all. I look up to that; I sometimes wish I would not be so self-centered. That is the problem. People focusing on themselves and their own needs, instead of focusing on others. Anyway, this lady does not talk about herself. And that's what makes her so interesting. Why does she not talk about herself? Is she merely a nice woman? Why in the world did she move 2000 miles away to the desert from her green state of Virginia? She just provokes all these questions. Her secretiveness is what captivates, makes me want to find out the mystery. I have always enjoyed mysteries. When I was in 2nd and 3rd grade, I was quite obsessed with mysteries. I read every single Nancy Drew book twice over... at least. Hm. Again, hm...
Well, there will always be mysteries. Some huge mysteries. That people will never know. Shouldn't say never. I just don't know. I don't know a LOT.
Like when mom's coming home. Crap. I should probobly pick up this dump.

Clean house = my mother is very happy and very nice.

Messy house = my mother is not happy.

That's how it works around here. Don't ask.. I just live here. Wait. Status update on my sleeping environment: Still in front room. Sigh. I wonder if I will ever get to move back into my room. Here's my current sleeping situation: