This post should take about 23 minutes to read (get a cup of coffee and some Pocky). This is one of my largest posts, so there’ll be a slight delay before the next one.
I’m your average self-loathing Freshman.
High school is big, which I thought meant I wouldn’t need to interact with as many people on a day-to-day basis.
I was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong.
A major assumption I made when evaluating my chances of meeting people was that the size of the campus would make it so that I would meet less people.
High school is like a minefield, but the minefields are prone to explode at any time, and instead of mines it’s actually just a lot of socially and mentally unstable people.
You don’t know who is gonna dye their hair crazy colors, go emo, or become emotional over trivial things. One day you’re safe, the next you are getting caught in the explosion.
An actual thing that happened
A few months ago I was randomly confronted by an extroverted person I had been texting on Instagram for shits and giggles. As it turns out, they had gone through many, many phases since the last time I caught a glimpse of them in middle school.
Extroverts are a nightmare when navigating the high school minefield because they are like a magnet that pulls mines out of the ground to create a super-duper-dangerous zone. Even worse, this magnet follows people seemingly at random.
Being me, I went with the most logical route: to send extroverts away to get back to my normal, worry-free life.
Sometimes I get dragged out of my anti-people bench during lunch and thrown into perilous situations that usually involve awkward “yeah-I’m-eating-my-lunch-as-I-sit-next-to-you-because-I-don’t-want-to-interact” scenarios.
Analysis and dissection of awkward extroverts
Upon closer inspection I realized that my relationship-ruining life-draining parasite was pretty socially awkward and just gifted/cursed with the natural tendency to attract people. And so that’s where I attacked them, albeit unintentionally.
Plan: I actively refuse to talk.
As it turns out, there is a lot of horribly bad chemistry between a misanthropic introvert and a hard-to-understand extrovert.
My refusal to talk resulted in most conversations being initiated by them via an Instagram DM.
This evened out the ground and put both of us at a disadvantage. A key phrase that gets tossed around by extroverts trying to get me to do something for them is, “you’re smart”.
But I’m not “smart”. People who actually know me would know that. The only reason to call a stranger “smart” is because you want to butter them up.
I’m pretty good at making conversations awkward, but I usually just roll with the other person’s clear lack of knowledge about me and go along with what they want.
What’s the worst that could happen?
The worst that could happen
I’ve been pulled into too many inconsistent long-term projects in the past couple months due to my “just roll with it” attitude. I can’t possibly go over all of them, so I’ll leave it at that.
Biting off more than I can chew has been extremely damaging to this site.
However, I’ve finally managed to start revamping some of the design and meekly kicking at some old projects to try and revive them, but I’m not in the clear yet. But you probably don’t care about about the behind-the-scenes stuff, so here’s the great big announcement: I’m finally posting more often.
- Working on a video game thing I was supposed to release right now but I haven’t touched it in the past couple weeks so I’m sorta fucked.
- Finding a way to host video off-site but without the need to worry about stupid ads interfering.
- Reuploading web serials from 2016-2017 to pay homage to this site’s roots. Also, I have had zero creative juices the past 6 months and have been unable to write new fiction so I’m hoping editing and proofreading over 16,000 words of web serials will reawaken by writing ability.
Since my posts have been rather lackluster I’ve decided to make this subsection filled with excuses to clear up everything but I don’t know what to call it so I’ll just make this paragraph the header for it instead.
Backend scripting and troubleshooting is Procrastinator’s Heaven
There’s nothing better than getting stumped trying to solve a useless minor problem to divert attention from important things like creating content.
I tried to make an anonymous message board, which ended up flopping after some security issues. It was really booming, and it came to a close overnight without warning. I have the files all backed up, so if I ever get back to it, I can.
It doesn’t help that the name of the message board ticked off my school’s IT department and got the attention of people all the way in Los Angeles to sneak into the site only to cause mess that took 2 days to clean up.
That’s two days I’m never getting back.
I still have a life
By ‘life’ I mean things I am obligated to do. (eg: Homework, eating, sleeping, school stuff).
My work ethic needs to change. I need to enjoy the sweet abyss of sleep, experience the bliss of writing in a quiet peaceful room once more, and to enjoy writing posts again. It doesn’t help that finals are happening in a couple days.
I’m also unironically typing all of this out with an overlooming assignment I have to finish in less than 24 hours.
I want to post more often
Here are some key traits of a WordPress blog that makes it to the Featured WordPress Reader:
- Posts come out more than once a month.
- The people running successful blogs see no problem with writing huge amounts of posts each week.
The obvious problem is the fact that I do none of these.
I have finals coming up in about
two weeks scratch that, this is Neo One Day Before The Final interjecting Neo A Week Ago’s writing to tell you that I’m currently proofreading this post instead of studying for finals that happen in less than 14 hours.
Everything after this block was written 6 months ago.
The Very Fun Backstory
The story begins June 19, 2018. Exactly 8 days ago (from the time of writing) I made a bet with my friend that if I was able to keep over 100 followers on Instagram for a week in the span of a week (which is basically impossible due to assholes that unfollow people who reach 100), they’d buy me an anime body pillow.
Unsurprisingly, a stroke of luck befell me from the heavens. I went from 99 followers to 102 followers and didn’t dip back under 100. Great.
Anyways, there are going to be some packages coming my way now, and I’m terrified.
I’m terrified of what’s gonna happen about
two weeks from now when some Amazon boxes with questionable material magically appear at our doorstep with ‘Enchoseon’ stamped all over them. Despite my parents knowing next to nothing about this site, they still know it’s called Enchoseon.
I’m Freaking Out
So I did some negotiating and convinced my friend to switch body pillow covers. At first we decided on a nice Aqua-in-pajamas pillow cover, but it turned out to be slightly over-budget. Sucks, I know.
At first they were gonna send me a nice pillow cover of Kanna from Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid, but I panicked at the thought of my parents finding a loli anime cover.
I mean, I get that they hate what I like and actively show disdain, but an elementary schooler anime girl would not be good for the ever-growing amount of unspoken chaos.
And then we settled for Sagiri, who is 13 years old, who is much better than the 8 year-old Kanna.
But then, after thinking everything was done and dusted, we switched back to Aqua. And then to Sagiri. And then through a gajillion other characters.
Since the inner pillow is coming two weeks from now, the pillow covers
won’t be ordered until a few days before the inner pillow arrives (to make them arrive in conjunction with each other), and during that time, they might go out of stock or something. So until then, we just made a list of different eligible pillow covers to avoid any problems—and there might be a discount on some of the more expensive ones, which is what we’re really waiting for.
Penny-Pinching and Super-Duper Scheming
Even though I don’t directly control whatever hellish surprise is coming my way, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get the most bang out of our
$75 $200 budget. Now, if this was a normal purchase, I’d just throw in my own $25 and call it a day, but this is not a normal purchase, and my friend and I are trying to figure out what the hell we are going to do.
Important Note: There was originally $75 $125 raised, but it was raised to $200 when we decided to do Operation Barrage. (More on that below.)
We had the longest chat over Instagram and it got to the point where we ended up making a list.
So let’s just contemplate the price of the inner pillow.
A regular inner pillow costs about $99, and we went for the most low-quality cheapest Chinese-bootleg we could find. Not very smart, but we didn’t have much of a choice.
Next, there are the pillowcases, which are supposed to be in the $45 area. We’re going to the good ol’ cheap Chinese mass-producers again, which reduces their prices to $20-$30.
The thing is, sending over a pillow isn’t enough. We need quantity to beat my parents, and if we can barrage them with a crapload of boxes, it’ll seem more intimidating than just two packages.
We ended up crowdfunding the cash and got a $200 budget instead.
So with $200 bucks crowdfunded for a shitty reason and a very scary amount of incoming packages, the next two weeks will be interesting, to say the least.
Since most of this plan is about surprising me, I’m completely in the dark on what’s being sent. The only thing I get a say on is the body pillow because it’d suck to get a rash while I sleep. Also, I don’t want to look like a lolicon, so there’s that.
But I do know that there will be about six more items other than the inner pillow and dakimakura cover, which is hard to believe.
While it certainly feels like Christmas, since this entire scheme has a good chance of blowing up and wasting $200, it’s more like one of those cheesy Halloween-Christmas horror movies.
I Lost Money
Here’s my monthly spending:
I threw in $75 bucks to help pay off the costs for everything.
Let me reword that: I threw away $75 to screw myself.
So we didn’t really raise $200, we raised $125. But $200 sounds more intimidating, so I’ll just use that number instead.
One thing worth noting is that my friend already has an inner pillow, so if I had lost the bet I would’ve just paid $30-ish bucks for the outer cover and we wouldn’t have had this problem to begin with.
The Plan: Get lots of money and send lots of shit to my house in hopes that my parents won’t be able to confiscate all of it.
We have some problems.
A) The cash was collected physically in big bills, which is stupid. It’s a physical scheme that was done with bikes and chocolate bars sold at double the price to random people. We called it a Gofundme as a joke, but it grew on us and ended up becoming a codename-thing instead.
B) I have a really bad, vital part in this plan.
So here’s the plan:
-Everybody else collects a shit ton of money | (Done)
-I get the money and exchange it for Amazon gift cards | (Not Done, Yet)
-I send $200 worth of Amazon gift cards to my friend, who will use their Amazon account to ruin my relationship with my parents | (Not Done, Yet)
The plan is really confusing.
So I asked my friend all of my questions.
-Why don’t I just buy the pillow?
-Why do I need to be the one to get the gift cards if I’ll just hand them back to you?
And these were the answers:
-To keep the mystery I’ll use my Amazon account.
-The cash isn’t safe with me.
I’ll be sending the gift codes by text while they’re chilling on the other side of the world in Japan. They’ll be leaving in a few days, and now we’re waiting for the last wads of cash to trickle in, so I have the responsibility of sending the cash to them in the form of Amazon Gift Cards.
My dream summer Japan trip never happened, so all of this makes me really jealous.
But the other half of this entire scheme is the part where I sneak out of my house and rush over to the nearest Albertsons to grab a bunch of Amazon gift cards and buy them all with a mysterious amount of cash that literally nobody should even be carrying.
To be fair, while everybody was working to raise the money, I was the one chilling in my house, sick in bed.
The First Trip
The first trip was not perfect or amazing. Rather, it was the complete opposite.
I left home on bike without my phone or watch, which was a stupid move because all my time estimates for the next trip are based on random guesses instead of actual evidence. Which means that my ’30-40 minutes’ estimate is probably off by a lot.
The first problem I had was with getting the bike out of the damn shed. I won’t go over everything, but the summary is that I had to pull out all of the bikes and scooters. And then a pedal of another bike got stuck in my wheel spokes and I spent a good amount of time wresting with everything.
When I finally started biking out of my house I was freaking out. I didn’t know how much time I wasted getting out the bike and I was trying to pedal at a dangerously fast speed in a neighborhood street filled with cars. All the bikes were splayed out around the shed in a mess, so I was worrying about how long it’d take for me to put them away.
So I, trying to be Sonic-fast because I’m an adrenaline-filled teenager with no sense of danger, decided to take a leap of faith 3 inches off the ground.
I was going pretty slow, and what happened was comparable to what you’d experience riding a crummy bumper car. If I had been going a bit slower I would’ve just used the tiny ramp, but I couldn’t brake on time.
And of course, my bike, having gone through through utter madness in the events at the shed, had the chain pop out. I immediately noticed that none of my pedaling was doing anything and that I was drifting to the other side of the street with the force of gravity while my legs pedaled worthlessly.
I dragged my bike over to the other side and realized what had happened. Feeling pretty pissed, I muttered a few things and the lady walking her dog on the other side of the street decided that I was dangerous (most likely from my incessant under-the-breath muttering), so she slowed down and let her poodle walk in front of her as some sort of guard dog.
I tugged the chain back onto the chain ring using my noodley arms and continued on my path as the chains clicked and clacked back into place for the first few seconds.
In retrospect, I probably looked like a druggie or runaway, or maybe some mix of the two, so that lady’s response was probably normal.
Anyways, I made it to the Albertsons and spent a few minutes looking for the gift cards frantically. I went all the way from the back to the front of the store to find an employee who pointed me to the gift cards, which were conveniently placed by the second entrance to the building. The only reason I hadn’t found them was because they were near the wine section, and I was already rushing around on a bike with nothing except sweatpants with one of those closeable pouches and a tight sweaty t-shirt, so sneaking around the wine section probably would’ve gotten me kicked out.
Once I picked up my gift cards I hurried over the the only cashier open and joined what was probably the most anxiety-inducing line I had been in that entire summer.
I almost worked up the nerve to ask someone for the time, but I realized I didn’t even know what time I had left, so I decided against it. I wriggled around nervously in my shoes.
Once I reached the cashier, I pulled out the wad of moola and bought the cards. I also went and bought a small box of Werther’s caramels (my favorite candy) because they were only a buck and seventy-five cents.
The box is currently sitting in my desk, still wrapped in plastic because I haven’t gotten around to eating them yet. What a waste.
I jumped on my bike, which was tilted over into a planter, and started going all the way back home. Of course, I forgot to pick up my change of three bucks because I forgot about the Werthers. After getting my change in one of those awkward “oh-yeah-my-three-bucks-gee-thanks” conversations, I began the trek back home.
I managed to get home sweatier than I had ever been the entire summer and took a much-needed bath.
I later sent the codes to my friend, brushed my teeth, and conked out. It was a successful trip.
Pre-Second Trip Jitters
Another day has passed, and I have yet to find an opening to exchange the next batch of money for gift cards.
Right now my friend is trying to cancel an inner pillow order because it’s too untrustworthy, even for sleazy Chinese bootleg.
If the inner pillow order cancellation works we’ll still need to order a different, less-untrustworthy sleazy Chinese bootleg. Heck, I have my suspicions that almost everything on Amazon is Chinese bootleg.
It would’ve been better to use Jlist or some other website specialized in high-quality Japan-imported items rather than fraudulent Amazon sellers, but of course, neither of us has a credit or debit card. Just splendid.
With the plan relying on a probably-shitty Amazon seller and the tiny shred of hope that I can make even more random people walking their dogs think I’m a druggie/runaway, both of us are on the edge of our seats.
However, my seat is literal and right behind my laptop and my friend’s seat is figurative since they’re probably having a good night’s sleep after another fun day in Japan.
The Second Trip
So here’s the updated checklist.
-Everybody else collects a shit ton of money | (Done)
-I get the money and exchange it for Amazon gift cards | (Done)
-I send $200 worth of Amazon gift cards to my friend, who will use their Amazon account to ruin my relationship with my parents | (Done)
-Disappoint my parents! | (Almost done, yay!)
The trip was pretty well. I also timed it and found out it only took 20 minutes.
The shed still pissed me off, but it was relatively faster since I knew that I had to take out all of the bikes before dragging out my own.
After leaving my bike hidden behind a planter in an area that is a favorite smoking spot for many of the local residents of the parking lot, I dashed over to the Albertsons and picked up a $100 and $25 Amazon gift card.
The cashier told me I was a “true baller.” She was damn right, but what she didn’t know was that all of that money was not going to my grandma or to be spent on expensive watches, Instead, it was going to be wasted for the shittiest reason on the face of the planet, asides from building a wall with such negative connotation that it carries with it a xenophobic aura.
After buying the gift cards, the nagging thoughts at the back of my head finally rose to full power.
Firstly, I can trust them to buy the weirdest shit that’ll disappoint my parents.
Secondly, I can trust my parents to think that I spent the whole $200 and bitch about it for the next month.
Update From Neo 6 Months in The Future: Yeah, I prophesied this one, except it’s been 6 months and they still haven’t given up.
Thirdly, I can trust Amazon to goof up and send everything out of order.
Also, the new arrival times are July 10 through August 16, and holy shit, that’s coming up in 13 days (from the time of writing.)
I’m not sure if the number thirteen is a bad omen.
All I know so far is that there are 8 items coming to my house between July 10th and August 13, which is scary because all that I know is that they’ll be anime-themed. Which is not good for non-anime-otaku parents who probably won’t approve.
This situation would’ve been better if I had done the bet with a non-anime-otaku friend because the wager would’ve just been something simple and common like candies or mints or hard drugs or nuclear warheads.
But of course, I did do the bet with my anime-otaku friend, and they decided to theme the plan around destabilizing my already-fragile relationship with my parents.
As it turns out, I’m three days away from the start of the worst day of this week.
I thought that I had at least another week before all hell broke loose, but I was wrong.
My short grace period has come to an abrupt end and now I only have a few days to pace around worriedly in my room before I disappoint my parents and get disowned.
The next part of this post will probably be the part where I jump over to when I get the first package or something.
The Part Where I Was Supposed to Jump Over to the First Package or Something But Didn’t
My piggy bank was dealt a crippling blow when I gave away my $75. I was planning on spending the next couple months to recover all of it, but something urgent happened.
So the problem started when I was using my “unlimited” data. Which, contrary to literally everything I’ve heard about my dad’s data plan, is not actually unlimited. There was a 2 gig limit. Long-story short, I screwed myself.
My room is far from the router. So after I found that the “unlimited” data was faster than the crappy wi-fi, I decided to load my YouTube videos on data. At the time, I was watching Fl Studio 12 tutorials, which meant that I was burning through multiple videos in those long tutorial playlists.
I also decided to download my manga off MangaRocks so I sorta used 8 gigs of data from that alone. Since this was a new phone everything needed to be updated/installed I just let the stuff do its thing on data so that it’d be faster. (The wi-fi to my room sometimes cuts out randomly.)
The first item was supposed to arrive on July 6, on a Friday.
However, it didn’t actually arrive.
Luckily, another item, which wasn’t given a shipping time because the shipping wasn’t given a “Track Me” option, arrived on that same Friday anyways.
But my mom took the package and opened it up. Of course, nobody actually told me the mail had came (even though I had been looking out the window for a long time) so I went to sleep that Friday feeling utterly disappointed.
Then on Saturday, I got my package, pre-opened thanks to my curious parents. I was beyond pissed (I even told my them about the mail and not to open it beforehand and they still opened it), but now I have a kawaii Sagiri figure on my shelf.
However, I don’t understand how people can screw up “Don’t open the box” with “Open the box.”
All the other items arrived over the course of a month.
Okay, so this part is writtin by Present-Day Neo from December 2018. Welcome back.
Here’s what happened:
- I paid for self-hosting the site. The plan was to give my dad $15 each month to pay off self-hosting.
- My mom decided to check my money reserve and said I was missing $200 even though I was only missing $75 (from the anime goods scheme).
- My dad forced me to pay for a whole year’s worth of self-hosting all at once, draining the rest of my money in an instant.
- My parents teamed up to accuse me of spending my own $200 on the anime goods.
- It’s been six months and my mom still won’t stop bugging me with, “admit the truth” and “stop telling lies about those figurines.”
This was a weird super-long bloggy post, which is extremely different than what you’re probably used to reading on this site.
Thanks for reading everything up to this point, and I’ll see you in the next post.