My first post

My First Post

I'm probably going to come off really pretentious to everybody that reads this. But my adoring audience must put up with a teenage girls ramblings. *tumble weed quietly exits*
I'm writing this because even though nobody will read this, at least I'll have left a foot print, a terribly small footprint on a road already covered with bigger foot prints, but a foot print none the less.
I want to have something that I know is mine and I turned to words. *Tumble weed turns around silently and shakes his head at my folly*

Oh god, I should just stop writing, this is pure, unadulterated crap if I've ever seen it, and I've been on tumblr once.

I should probably tell you about myself first so you don't end up hating a ghost.
I am the type of girl who laughs at my friends when they talk about celebrities as if they know them, or blatantly scoff over there Boy Issues but at night I'll lay in my bed and answer an imaginary interviewers question with witty remarks, and decide what I'll wear when I meet "the one".

I am the type of girl who will joke with boys and make them laugh, but will never turn their head.

I'll tell you a sad story. I am friends with this girl, lets call her Margo. She is the type of beautiful that gets guys, the curvy, pouty lipped, blue-eyed sweetheart type of beauty. I was with her one day and we where walking through a supermarket when I notice a pair of cute guys staring. I never get a second glance when I'm alone, not me, skinny, frizzy haired plain, me. But when I'm with Margo, every boy stares at her, then glances at me, then back to her. Don't get me wrong, Margo isn't a raging, man-eating bitch, she is really nice but I cant help but hating her when complete strangers call her beautiful.

Now, as we walk past these boys, one of them says hey. To Margo of course. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but I told Margo he had greeted her, and she turned around and waved. He gets her number quite easily, he is cute in a dorky kind of way, and this is a small town with limited boys, and he seems like he's from out of town.

He doesn't greet me as he asks for her number, he doesn't ask for mine. I start to realize what the word spare means. I feel like the walking, talking definition of spare.

Anyway, I know this is not the most original piece, but this is it, my first post, I'll update soon.