Once upon a time there was a little weirdo child named Hannah.
She was a nerdy bookworm that pretended she was a cat warrior during recess.
But it sixth grade, that all changed.
She got It.
You know those people?
The annoying ones who nobody likes?
The ones who don't realize that nobody likes them?
They don't get It.
Now, you may be wondering:
"Hannah, what is this mysterious It that you speak of?
Is It a disease?
Or is a kind of cheese?"
Well, I have an answer.
No, it isn't a disease.
No, it's not a kind of cheese.
Its the realization that other people exist around you.
When I was in sixth grade, things changed.
My weirdo best friend and fellow cat clan member moved to Italy.
My bipolar nemesis who thought that she deserved to be the clan leader moved to Ohio.
The combination of these two events set me free.
I never really realized how weird I was until I was alone.
I started looking around me, and was totally surprised at what I saw.
Everyone was wearing tank tops and shorts,
with bangs and pierced ears.
No one read.
No one had their hair tucked behind their ears.
No one wore sandals.
And no one wore t-shirts with pictures of kittens and monkeys.
That is when I, Hannah Beezle, began to get It.
Some people call it growing up.
I call it a stage of development that all social order depends on.
If you never get It, you will never be cool. It's a fact.
I cut my hair,
got some trademark glasses,
and rainbow sneakers.
BAM. Instant coolness.
Now that I'm in high school,
I thank the gods of karma and cupcakes that
I got It.
If I didn't get It when I did, I would probably still be a weirdo nerd.
And I have a secret.
Somewhere, hidden in a safe within my personality,
That weirdness still lives.
But I see this as a good thing.
This small amount of weirdness allows me to do things that my totally cool friends can't.
I can work a microwave like a pro.
I can look at an algebra problem and solve it in less than a minute.
And I can make friends with anyone.
Some of my friends wouldn't talk to a nerd if their lives depended on it.
It makes me sad, because everyone deserves a chance.
Just because someone looks a certain way or acts a certain way
Shouldn't stop you from being nice to them.
When I look at a weirdo
in their kitten shirts and knee length shorts,
and I see the way I might have turned out.
If I didn't get It.
It makes me want to help them.
To say "Hey, you.
Stop being weird.
Save yourself while you can!"
But for most, it is too late.
People may not desire to get It.
Like all who lack something desirable but unreachable,
They convince themselves that they don't want it.
They tell themselves that it is overated.
That it isn't real.
A weirdo may look at a popular girl and say:
"Why would I want to be popular? Having friends sucks. Who wants people talking to them 24/7?"
People who don't get It consider themselves above the people who do get It.
They convince themselves that they are the more advanced people
and that they are the people who really get It.
But this is only a delusional physiological dream.
Anyways, I have other things to talk about.
Players bother me.
(Yeah, if your my friend you know who I am talking about.)
They assume that it is okay to flirt with five girls at once
and are convinced that they are the best thing that every happened to this world.
Sorry moron, you're not.
And this is your wake up call.
Sucks for you,
but you deserve it.
I'll bet that all of you hopes and dreams are about
spoiled milk
rotten eggs
and other crap like that.
Not to be rude,
but you aren't that great.
Hell, you're not great at all!
People only talk to you because they feel bad for you and your desperation!!!
So yeah...
Wow. It's almost 11:00 again.
Why does it always end like this?!
-___________-
In case you weren't paying attention:
Get It.
Secret nerd.
Players suck.
Chow!
