I kind of feel so tired that my eyes are going to fall off of my face.
Love,
Tab
6.30.2009
6.27.2009
But ...you picked me. You ..picked me.
If… Okay. So. It all started with two fuck-ups: Adam and Eve. (Of course, it could easily be seen as Eve being the fuck-up, but Adam did what? Nothing. That’s a fuck-up. He also listened to Eve when she told him to bite the apple, too. What a dumbass. I mean, if she said she just put a gun up to her head and shot it, and that she’s fine, so he should try it, too! Would he? Probably. What a fuck-up.) (Oh, and to make it clear, I’m not going against the fact that women should be listened to, and that if we say to do something, don’t do it—because I’m not saying that AT all. But, then again.. I’m not one to say that the woman is always right, and the man’s always wrong. Or vice versa. Because, pleh. That’s way too broad of a statement to be true to every woman and man. I know a lot of stupid women. Don’t listen to them. Ha.)
If Eve hadn’t taken a bite out of the forbidden fruit, and then had Adam do it as well, then nakedness wouldn’t be obvious to people. For lack of better phrasion, the fruit opened up the eyes of the human race, as unfortunate as it is (ignorance truly is bliss). I really wonder whether we’d be such assholes all the time if they hadn’t been the first couple of people to fuck up.
Something I find sincerely interesting (and it truly keeps reeling me in time after time) is how judged people are, how categorized and labeled people become, and how much of a chance a person is given (when it comes to anything, really) just by their outer appearance. I feel as if it’s wrong, and I’m sure most people feel that way if they think it through, but I find serious concern within myself when it comes to these issues. Maybe I feel as if this issue pertains to me, whether it’s for my benefit or not, but being aware of the situation and my own insecurities, I feel like I’m judged and labeled and maybe not given the right chances… Then again, I am. And I’m lucky because a lot of times, I feel like I’m the only one who notices certain things about me (which I’m almost totally grateful for, but sometimes un- because I’m kind of scared to fuckin’ death that someone’s going to notice and spread the word so fast that my life’ll be over as I ever knew it and loved it to be).
I’ve come to a couple realizations: "I'm a weird combo. Like, so interesting and mysterious, but put together wrong- slightly." (10:43a -09 Jun 22) That’s what attracts people to me.
"..People..do not even look like this inside of their body!" I'm just as fucked up as the next guy, but instead of being that way on just the inside or the outside, on the inside I FEEL like I’m like that on the outside. --I'm not at all how I look to you (long legs, pretty hair, cute style, what have you), how I look to me (like a freakin' badass motorcycle bitch, blah blah or a Disney Princess) but something completely different-- like how I truly am, how God truly made me (..perfect in every way/just right with a side of absolutely nothing awkward and nothing slightly off). No wonder some people think we're ugly, weird, or gorgeous while we're thinking we're awkward or better than how we feel recognized as far as treatment goes." (8:09p -09 Jun22) (Yes, the first quote is completely nonunderstandable and spoken in very unsober-like phrasing. Forgive me for not explaining that part, as well. As for the rest, it seems pretty self-explanatory in my opinion.)
Apparently, as it’s been diagnosed by a far-close person to me, I try to figure things out about physical appearances because I have personal issues with how I look and how people perceive me as opposed to how I feel like people should view me—outer and inner. Perhaps this reasoning is completely correct. In fact, it seems like I’m not really denying it, but I’m not admitting to that, and I’m not really feeling like exploring that possibility or its opposition. Could be that I’m in denial again. It’s more of a carefree, easy-going denial that I have. Personally, I don’t think it’s hurting me, and it’s not setting me backwards. If anything—my special denial is helping me move on—progress.
The point is: I was on drugs when I wrote those quotes, and the realization of the actual meaning of what I was thinking brought me happiness and took some weight off my shoulders. To be honest, I don’t really care if you think I’m a retard, because at least, now I feel like I’m who I am, who I’m supposed to be, who I was made and meant to be. Things that happen to me are meant to happen to me. People who come across my path are meant to. I might not get what I want all the time, or who I want, but there isn’t anything at all wrong with me, and it’s kind of saddening to know that I have felt that way for a long time. (Of course I always used the “I am who I am, take it or leave it” phrase, but really, I just wanted to be picked, and I wasn’t most of the time. I made myself seem brave and compliant, but I was crushed and I looked for what was wrong.) (Once again, nothing’s wrong, and if it turns out that I don’t end up with a killer career, it’s probably because I’m meant to experience a lot of everything! And if I don’t end up with whoever I want to, it might just be because I wasn’t build for an add-on. Why should I feel bad about that? Why should I feel bad about myself for that? ..I shouldn’t, and I saw that the other night. I’m perfect, to God, and that’s what it comes down to, and that’s all that should’ve mattered the whole time.) I truly hope to be better now. Maybe you will be, too.
If Eve hadn’t taken a bite out of the forbidden fruit, and then had Adam do it as well, then nakedness wouldn’t be obvious to people. For lack of better phrasion, the fruit opened up the eyes of the human race, as unfortunate as it is (ignorance truly is bliss). I really wonder whether we’d be such assholes all the time if they hadn’t been the first couple of people to fuck up.
Something I find sincerely interesting (and it truly keeps reeling me in time after time) is how judged people are, how categorized and labeled people become, and how much of a chance a person is given (when it comes to anything, really) just by their outer appearance. I feel as if it’s wrong, and I’m sure most people feel that way if they think it through, but I find serious concern within myself when it comes to these issues. Maybe I feel as if this issue pertains to me, whether it’s for my benefit or not, but being aware of the situation and my own insecurities, I feel like I’m judged and labeled and maybe not given the right chances… Then again, I am. And I’m lucky because a lot of times, I feel like I’m the only one who notices certain things about me (which I’m almost totally grateful for, but sometimes un- because I’m kind of scared to fuckin’ death that someone’s going to notice and spread the word so fast that my life’ll be over as I ever knew it and loved it to be).
I’ve come to a couple realizations: "I'm a weird combo. Like, so interesting and mysterious, but put together wrong- slightly." (10:43a -09 Jun 22) That’s what attracts people to me.
"..People..do not even look like this inside of their body!" I'm just as fucked up as the next guy, but instead of being that way on just the inside or the outside, on the inside I FEEL like I’m like that on the outside. --I'm not at all how I look to you (long legs, pretty hair, cute style, what have you), how I look to me (like a freakin' badass motorcycle bitch, blah blah or a Disney Princess) but something completely different-- like how I truly am, how God truly made me (..perfect in every way/just right with a side of absolutely nothing awkward and nothing slightly off). No wonder some people think we're ugly, weird, or gorgeous while we're thinking we're awkward or better than how we feel recognized as far as treatment goes." (8:09p -09 Jun22) (Yes, the first quote is completely nonunderstandable and spoken in very unsober-like phrasing. Forgive me for not explaining that part, as well. As for the rest, it seems pretty self-explanatory in my opinion.)
Apparently, as it’s been diagnosed by a far-close person to me, I try to figure things out about physical appearances because I have personal issues with how I look and how people perceive me as opposed to how I feel like people should view me—outer and inner. Perhaps this reasoning is completely correct. In fact, it seems like I’m not really denying it, but I’m not admitting to that, and I’m not really feeling like exploring that possibility or its opposition. Could be that I’m in denial again. It’s more of a carefree, easy-going denial that I have. Personally, I don’t think it’s hurting me, and it’s not setting me backwards. If anything—my special denial is helping me move on—progress.
The point is: I was on drugs when I wrote those quotes, and the realization of the actual meaning of what I was thinking brought me happiness and took some weight off my shoulders. To be honest, I don’t really care if you think I’m a retard, because at least, now I feel like I’m who I am, who I’m supposed to be, who I was made and meant to be. Things that happen to me are meant to happen to me. People who come across my path are meant to. I might not get what I want all the time, or who I want, but there isn’t anything at all wrong with me, and it’s kind of saddening to know that I have felt that way for a long time. (Of course I always used the “I am who I am, take it or leave it” phrase, but really, I just wanted to be picked, and I wasn’t most of the time. I made myself seem brave and compliant, but I was crushed and I looked for what was wrong.) (Once again, nothing’s wrong, and if it turns out that I don’t end up with a killer career, it’s probably because I’m meant to experience a lot of everything! And if I don’t end up with whoever I want to, it might just be because I wasn’t build for an add-on. Why should I feel bad about that? Why should I feel bad about myself for that? ..I shouldn’t, and I saw that the other night. I’m perfect, to God, and that’s what it comes down to, and that’s all that should’ve mattered the whole time.) I truly hope to be better now. Maybe you will be, too.
I'm not exactly proud
that I'm going to be cutting it close, once again, when it comes to getting to work on time.
I just.. can't say that I care very much.
I know that I need to keep it together.
But, ..I just don't feel like it.
I probably shouldn't talk about it out loud, unless I want Zoloft shoved down my throat.
So I'll blog.
I just.. don't. Care. Nope.
I can't help but kill myself repeatedly in my head if I'm at work for over 6 hours at a time.
Can't do it anymore. Caged bird feeling?
Wh/ev. It'll be fine. It always is fine. I'm fine. Forevv and evv evv evv and ev? (I feel a little more hip, having written that in that way. Don't fucking judge me.)
Adios, mes amies.
I just.. can't say that I care very much.
I know that I need to keep it together.
But, ..I just don't feel like it.
I probably shouldn't talk about it out loud, unless I want Zoloft shoved down my throat.
So I'll blog.
I just.. don't. Care. Nope.
I can't help but kill myself repeatedly in my head if I'm at work for over 6 hours at a time.
Can't do it anymore. Caged bird feeling?
Wh/ev. It'll be fine. It always is fine. I'm fine. Forevv and evv evv evv and ev? (I feel a little more hip, having written that in that way. Don't fucking judge me.)
Adios, mes amies.
6.23.2009
I don't remember. June 22, -09.
When I first saw you,
You looked at me, you saw me twice, more than three
Times will change, and time
Is here to stay, I feel you
Mr. Guy
So bring it
I ignored your deliberate stares
Since I heard by the lake
That you were gay
Some time we’ll see
Probably not so soon if it’s up to me
Taken by the words that
Your mouth keeps spitting and sending and smoothing
I fall into a complex
When you walk and talk to me
Just bring it
All you’ve said are lies
And I should’ve noticed your previous art,
Of knowing the right things to say
And known scenes to act
Just bring it
You were great and
It’ll be a while before I forget
The you,
The who that I thought I knew
For no reason ever
To explain heart vibes and sighs and signs.
God damn you
Brought it,
And I’m gonna bring it to you but
I’m gonna hum it
You looked at me, you saw me twice, more than three
Times will change, and time
Is here to stay, I feel you
Mr. Guy
So bring it
I ignored your deliberate stares
Since I heard by the lake
That you were gay
Some time we’ll see
Probably not so soon if it’s up to me
Taken by the words that
Your mouth keeps spitting and sending and smoothing
I fall into a complex
When you walk and talk to me
Just bring it
All you’ve said are lies
And I should’ve noticed your previous art,
Of knowing the right things to say
And known scenes to act
Just bring it
You were great and
It’ll be a while before I forget
The you,
The who that I thought I knew
For no reason ever
To explain heart vibes and sighs and signs.
God damn you
Brought it,
And I’m gonna bring it to you but
I’m gonna hum it
6.19.2009
Allow me to set the scene:
You're on vacation with your best friend (off and on for 6 years) and her family, and two other friends. You've been on vacation with this same family (though last time was just the mother, the father, the best friend, and the best friend's little sister) once before-- maybe 4 years ago.
It's the day before departure to return home, and you are trying desperately to have a great time.
All week (yes, 7 days), you have been dutifully being your best friend's "playmate," listening to her bitch and whine about everything that has been done, planned, or is to be done or planned, about every place you've gone or are about to go, every person in the group for one thing or another, blah blah blah.
You're getting pretty good at relaxing, and just taking things in without becoming too involved, so you practice that, and have been all week. Every single day. Every hour in that day.
The older girls (4 of them) have been saying to you "You don't have to be with her all the time, you're allowed to do things," and "Wow, you're out here on your own; great job!" Even though you are perfectly aware that it's fine to do things without your best friend, you know that since you came on the trip with her, you should hang around her, have her back kind of (with body language/actions speak louder than words). So you spend a lot of time doing whatever she would like to do, going with her when she takes off, agreeing with her even though you disagree.
You see, your best friend got a very bad sunburn the very first day of the vacation, and hasn't wanted to go out to the beach or to the pool since. Hasn't wanted to leave her room, actually. She's been very edgy and agitated since the burn, and you try to spend time with her in there, and ask her to come to the pool with you-- even knowing she'll say "hell no," or something close to it.
You sit next to your best friend at dinner, you drive with your best friend, you go in the room when your best friend gets upset to listen to the bitching about whatever didn't go her way, just to be there for her to have someone to listen. You do everything you know you should do, as a good friend, as her pick for the vacation.
Today, your best friend wakes up on the right side of the bed for the first time all week, and everyone notices and appreciates it. You guys go to the beach together, without your best friend, and tan for a while, then go up to the pool, and your best friend comes down-- with pizza for everyone-- and you all have a great couple of hours together. Around four, everyone goes up to the condo to get ready for jetskiing.
You drive with your best friend to the place, following behind everyone else, you study for the boating test with your best friend, you take your tests, you decide to just be your best friend's passenger on the jetski instead of riding on your own, you both seem to have a great time. Your best friend's mother doesn't want to ride anymore, so she offers you her jetski and you take it. You ride along side of your best friend the rest of the time (a half hour).
Walking back to the cars, you talk to your best friend's sister who tells you how she was kind of emotional about having lost her very expensive sunglasses while riding. When you get in the car with your best friend, you talk about lots of things, naturally-- one of those things leading to the conversation about the sister and the glasses situation. Your best friend begins laughing, to be mean towards her sister, and says that she might actually feel sorry for her if her sister hadn't laughed about her having a bad situation with her old pair of sunglasses one time. You say that perhaps you shouldn't've said anything, seeing as she wasn't advertising it.. And then your best friend pulls a number where she is suddenly mad at you for thinking that your sister would tell you something without HER getting to know it, so she shuts up and refuses to talk to you, and while you continue to talk and point things out like nothing's happening, she pretends like you aren't even in the car with her.
You get to the condo, go upstairs, put clothes on while your best friend showers. You go out to the dining area and sit down, and get online. Your best friend's other sister talks to you about going to the Melting Pot (that's where your best friend has been wanting to go all week and has gotten pissed more than once about not having gone yet), and about whether your best friend made reservations or not seeing as it's a Friday night. You tell her that you have no idea.
Turns out, the older girls and the younger sister want to go to Joe's Crab Shack since they didn't go with you guys earlier in the week. Your best friend gets pissed off because "no one ever does anything" that she wants to do. Topping it off, her mother comes into the room where you're sitting and your best friend's getting ready in the bathroom, and tells your best friend that she doesn't want to have a 2-hour long dinner after the long day. Your best friend gets more pissed since there'd only be you and her going.
The mom leaves the room, and your best friend comes out of the bathroom, puts a t-shirt and shorts on, slides on her shoes, grabs her keys and heads towards the door. You ask her where she's going. She responds with "I don't know." And she walks out.
A few minutes later, her mother comes in and asks you where your best friend is. You tell her that you don't know, you asked but your best friend didn't say. Your best friend's mother walks towards the door, she turns and walks back. She leans against the wall, while you sit on your bed, and she just kind of looks at you.
She says to you, "I.. I just guess that now's a good time to remind you of your place. You are here as your best friend's guest. You are here to be with her. Don't forget that. And, realize that that means being loyal to your best friend." And you respond with a "What? ..What did I do?" She tells you that your best friend told her how you wanted to go to dinner at Joe's Crab Shack, and not at the Melting Pot with your best friend. You tell the mother that you didn't say anything about eating anywhere (but thinking in your head, and telling your friends online about how hungry-- in general-- that you are). She just stares at you, weirdly, then says "Well.. I guess I take that back..then." And walks out.
You get seriously angry inside. You feel like your ears are on fire. Like your lungs are filling up with lead. You don't know what to do. You don't know what to say. Your PLACE? As if you need a reminder. As if it's remotely okay to be reminded of your "place." You start packing.
You finish packing, you walk out of the room and pass the little sister. She asks what you're doing, you respond with "I'm going outside." You walk out of the room, out of the condo, get on the elevator, walk out to the pool. You look down, and you see your best friend's father in his big truck, waiting, it seems. You call your grandma and start explaining things. You keep an eye on the truck, not to where he can see you, but so you can see him. You see people coming outside, you tell your grandma to hold on. You watch them all pile into the truck, and wait to see if they drive away. They drive away.
They drive away without you. You start crying. You're just panicked-feeling, stressed out. You explain everything to your grandma, and she asks you if you got locked out of the condo. You try to get into the doors just to get inside and not be in the pool area anymore-- you can't. You hang up and get the code from a text message you'd sent yourself earlier that week, and the code doesn't work. You try twenty times. The code won't work. You call your grandma back, you find a staircase that leads into the parking garage. You walk towards the beach from there, and your best friend beeps in. You hang up with your grandma and answer the call.
Your best friend asks what you're doing, and you reply by saying "I'm walking towards the beach." You say "What're YOU doing?" Your best friend says "Doesn't matter what I'm doing, I asked YOU." You say "Well I just TOLD you." Your best friend blows up your shit, and tells you how you've not spent time with her all week, and how you haven't even been around her at all, and that it's stupid of you to not have made an ally seeing as you don't have a car here. And that hey, you've been hanging around the sisters, so you could've at least made the effort to make one of them an ally, but you didn't even do that. You don't know what to say. Everything's so absurd. You say nothing. Your best friend says nothing. After a minute, your best friend says that you should've said where you were going "outside" if you'd wanted anyone to come and get you for dinner. You say nothing. You're appalled. Your best friend says that she's around the area if you want to get in the car. You say no. Your best friend says "Do you want food." You say no. You hang up.
You call your grandparents and bawl.
You hang up with your grandfather and call your good friend who lives in Florida. You try to explain things, but doubt that he'd be able to understand you through your crying and panic.
You sit on the beach for awhile, then get up and get pissed off and rant about how you aren't going to take anyone's shit from here on out. No one has that right to talk to you like you're less than they are.
You walk to the building, and the inside door's propped open! Wtf? You walk through the first door, and then through the second. You push the button for the elevator, go up, and even the condo doors are unlocked. You go inside, and tiptoe around. The TV's on. That doesn't mean anything. They leave anything and everything on when they're not around.
You hang up with your friend, and eat two pieces of bread then go into your room, into the bathroom. Your face is covered in mascara. Worse than the movies. You wipe it off, go to the computer and sit on the bed. You begin typing this.
Now what.
It's the day before departure to return home, and you are trying desperately to have a great time.
All week (yes, 7 days), you have been dutifully being your best friend's "playmate," listening to her bitch and whine about everything that has been done, planned, or is to be done or planned, about every place you've gone or are about to go, every person in the group for one thing or another, blah blah blah.
You're getting pretty good at relaxing, and just taking things in without becoming too involved, so you practice that, and have been all week. Every single day. Every hour in that day.
The older girls (4 of them) have been saying to you "You don't have to be with her all the time, you're allowed to do things," and "Wow, you're out here on your own; great job!" Even though you are perfectly aware that it's fine to do things without your best friend, you know that since you came on the trip with her, you should hang around her, have her back kind of (with body language/actions speak louder than words). So you spend a lot of time doing whatever she would like to do, going with her when she takes off, agreeing with her even though you disagree.
You see, your best friend got a very bad sunburn the very first day of the vacation, and hasn't wanted to go out to the beach or to the pool since. Hasn't wanted to leave her room, actually. She's been very edgy and agitated since the burn, and you try to spend time with her in there, and ask her to come to the pool with you-- even knowing she'll say "hell no," or something close to it.
You sit next to your best friend at dinner, you drive with your best friend, you go in the room when your best friend gets upset to listen to the bitching about whatever didn't go her way, just to be there for her to have someone to listen. You do everything you know you should do, as a good friend, as her pick for the vacation.
Today, your best friend wakes up on the right side of the bed for the first time all week, and everyone notices and appreciates it. You guys go to the beach together, without your best friend, and tan for a while, then go up to the pool, and your best friend comes down-- with pizza for everyone-- and you all have a great couple of hours together. Around four, everyone goes up to the condo to get ready for jetskiing.
You drive with your best friend to the place, following behind everyone else, you study for the boating test with your best friend, you take your tests, you decide to just be your best friend's passenger on the jetski instead of riding on your own, you both seem to have a great time. Your best friend's mother doesn't want to ride anymore, so she offers you her jetski and you take it. You ride along side of your best friend the rest of the time (a half hour).
Walking back to the cars, you talk to your best friend's sister who tells you how she was kind of emotional about having lost her very expensive sunglasses while riding. When you get in the car with your best friend, you talk about lots of things, naturally-- one of those things leading to the conversation about the sister and the glasses situation. Your best friend begins laughing, to be mean towards her sister, and says that she might actually feel sorry for her if her sister hadn't laughed about her having a bad situation with her old pair of sunglasses one time. You say that perhaps you shouldn't've said anything, seeing as she wasn't advertising it.. And then your best friend pulls a number where she is suddenly mad at you for thinking that your sister would tell you something without HER getting to know it, so she shuts up and refuses to talk to you, and while you continue to talk and point things out like nothing's happening, she pretends like you aren't even in the car with her.
You get to the condo, go upstairs, put clothes on while your best friend showers. You go out to the dining area and sit down, and get online. Your best friend's other sister talks to you about going to the Melting Pot (that's where your best friend has been wanting to go all week and has gotten pissed more than once about not having gone yet), and about whether your best friend made reservations or not seeing as it's a Friday night. You tell her that you have no idea.
Turns out, the older girls and the younger sister want to go to Joe's Crab Shack since they didn't go with you guys earlier in the week. Your best friend gets pissed off because "no one ever does anything" that she wants to do. Topping it off, her mother comes into the room where you're sitting and your best friend's getting ready in the bathroom, and tells your best friend that she doesn't want to have a 2-hour long dinner after the long day. Your best friend gets more pissed since there'd only be you and her going.
The mom leaves the room, and your best friend comes out of the bathroom, puts a t-shirt and shorts on, slides on her shoes, grabs her keys and heads towards the door. You ask her where she's going. She responds with "I don't know." And she walks out.
A few minutes later, her mother comes in and asks you where your best friend is. You tell her that you don't know, you asked but your best friend didn't say. Your best friend's mother walks towards the door, she turns and walks back. She leans against the wall, while you sit on your bed, and she just kind of looks at you.
She says to you, "I.. I just guess that now's a good time to remind you of your place. You are here as your best friend's guest. You are here to be with her. Don't forget that. And, realize that that means being loyal to your best friend." And you respond with a "What? ..What did I do?" She tells you that your best friend told her how you wanted to go to dinner at Joe's Crab Shack, and not at the Melting Pot with your best friend. You tell the mother that you didn't say anything about eating anywhere (but thinking in your head, and telling your friends online about how hungry-- in general-- that you are). She just stares at you, weirdly, then says "Well.. I guess I take that back..then." And walks out.
You get seriously angry inside. You feel like your ears are on fire. Like your lungs are filling up with lead. You don't know what to do. You don't know what to say. Your PLACE? As if you need a reminder. As if it's remotely okay to be reminded of your "place." You start packing.
You finish packing, you walk out of the room and pass the little sister. She asks what you're doing, you respond with "I'm going outside." You walk out of the room, out of the condo, get on the elevator, walk out to the pool. You look down, and you see your best friend's father in his big truck, waiting, it seems. You call your grandma and start explaining things. You keep an eye on the truck, not to where he can see you, but so you can see him. You see people coming outside, you tell your grandma to hold on. You watch them all pile into the truck, and wait to see if they drive away. They drive away.
They drive away without you. You start crying. You're just panicked-feeling, stressed out. You explain everything to your grandma, and she asks you if you got locked out of the condo. You try to get into the doors just to get inside and not be in the pool area anymore-- you can't. You hang up and get the code from a text message you'd sent yourself earlier that week, and the code doesn't work. You try twenty times. The code won't work. You call your grandma back, you find a staircase that leads into the parking garage. You walk towards the beach from there, and your best friend beeps in. You hang up with your grandma and answer the call.
Your best friend asks what you're doing, and you reply by saying "I'm walking towards the beach." You say "What're YOU doing?" Your best friend says "Doesn't matter what I'm doing, I asked YOU." You say "Well I just TOLD you." Your best friend blows up your shit, and tells you how you've not spent time with her all week, and how you haven't even been around her at all, and that it's stupid of you to not have made an ally seeing as you don't have a car here. And that hey, you've been hanging around the sisters, so you could've at least made the effort to make one of them an ally, but you didn't even do that. You don't know what to say. Everything's so absurd. You say nothing. Your best friend says nothing. After a minute, your best friend says that you should've said where you were going "outside" if you'd wanted anyone to come and get you for dinner. You say nothing. You're appalled. Your best friend says that she's around the area if you want to get in the car. You say no. Your best friend says "Do you want food." You say no. You hang up.
You call your grandparents and bawl.
You hang up with your grandfather and call your good friend who lives in Florida. You try to explain things, but doubt that he'd be able to understand you through your crying and panic.
You sit on the beach for awhile, then get up and get pissed off and rant about how you aren't going to take anyone's shit from here on out. No one has that right to talk to you like you're less than they are.
You walk to the building, and the inside door's propped open! Wtf? You walk through the first door, and then through the second. You push the button for the elevator, go up, and even the condo doors are unlocked. You go inside, and tiptoe around. The TV's on. That doesn't mean anything. They leave anything and everything on when they're not around.
You hang up with your friend, and eat two pieces of bread then go into your room, into the bathroom. Your face is covered in mascara. Worse than the movies. You wipe it off, go to the computer and sit on the bed. You begin typing this.
Now what.
The rest of the week.
TUESDAY:
-Set alarm for 8:10a
-Went to the beach solo at 8:40a
-(Decided what to write my books about)
-(Decided that I will get married some day)
-(Decided that I won’t be a party girl again)
-Transferred to the pool around noon
-Went inside, and helped make lunch w Jessie (the little sister)
-I microwaved veggies (WOO!) after having broken a glass, trying to open the damn bag.
-Ate lunch w the entire crew
-Went back to the pool
-Ate dinner somewhere, sometime, I’m sure.
WEDNESDAY:
-Tanning by the pool
-Walk the Line
-Manis and pedis
-Coffee from the Emerald Coffee place
-Mitchell’s Seafood Company (or something)
-ATE: calamari! shrimp cocktail! blue crab and shrimp penne!
THURSDAY:
-Johnny Rocket’s for lunch
-Tab’s make-over
-Tattoo parlor chat
-Beach: beers, cigs, talk
-Go-carting, bumper boats
-Apples to Apples
FRIDAY:
-Woke up
-Ate the last of the Cap'n Crunch
-Going to the beach and/or pool to tan
-Jetskiing at 3
-Dinner somewhere, sometime
-Idk, really
SATURDAY:
-Roadtripping home
-Set alarm for 8:10a
-Went to the beach solo at 8:40a
-(Decided what to write my books about)
-(Decided that I will get married some day)
-(Decided that I won’t be a party girl again)
-Transferred to the pool around noon
-Went inside, and helped make lunch w Jessie (the little sister)
-I microwaved veggies (WOO!) after having broken a glass, trying to open the damn bag.
-Ate lunch w the entire crew
-Went back to the pool
-Ate dinner somewhere, sometime, I’m sure.
WEDNESDAY:
-Tanning by the pool
-Walk the Line
-Manis and pedis
-Coffee from the Emerald Coffee place
-Mitchell’s Seafood Company (or something)
-ATE: calamari! shrimp cocktail! blue crab and shrimp penne!
THURSDAY:
-Johnny Rocket’s for lunch
-Tab’s make-over
-Tattoo parlor chat
-Beach: beers, cigs, talk
-Go-carting, bumper boats
-Apples to Apples
FRIDAY:
-Woke up
-Ate the last of the Cap'n Crunch
-Going to the beach and/or pool to tan
-Jetskiing at 3
-Dinner somewhere, sometime
-Idk, really
SATURDAY:
-Roadtripping home
6.16.2009
You never know what you have, until...
Listen.
I try to be a good friend. I know that I AM a good friend.
I take your side against everyone and anyone else, including your other friends and your family.
I'm your back-up and you know that you have that in me.
I listen to you speak about your dreams (literal and figurative), ideas, feelings, and experiences.
I contain myself when I want to take over the conversation to tell you something, because I know it'll make you feel bad-- like I'm not really listening, or like I don't care what you're actually trying to share with me.
Even when you're wrong, I take your side. I don't actually take your side if you're wrong, but I word myself to where I'm on your side without agreeing with whatever the hell you're saying or what you think or what you've done. Only a very bright person would be able to realize that I'm not actually saying that you're right. Even when you're something besides right-- in terms of behavior or what you say-- I don't say anything unless it's appropriate, and between just me and you, so you don't feel attacked or preyed on. I do you a lot of favors because, hey, I'm your fucking friend.
I don't talk crap about you when you aren't around. I don't talk crap about you to my other friends, your other friends, to people who don't even know you, to people when you leave the room, to my family (usually).
You don't realize how good of a friend I am, unless I slip up-- which I don't. Unless I purposely slip up. Which.. I don't. So you are very lucky. You don't even know what you have in me.
-----------------
I'm really glad that I'm not you, no offense.
You have faults that I would hate to have, and not know about.
You are so rude to people, and you don't even care. You don't even think you're being serious, after being called out on it, but you are serious. You are serious in the moment, and you are a bitch about things.
You call people names that are completely inappropriate, and that hasn't been "cute" or "funny" since 8th grade, okay? Be respectful to people-- all people, all old people, medium people, young people, friends, not-friends, family. Don't treat people like they're nothing, because they aren't NOTHING.
It's quite obvious that you feel patronized on a regular basis and that it bothers you, but I'm beginning to see that some people try to make you feel that way on purpose, to get back at you for the way you are towards them. No, it isn't right of them to pull that, but it isn't right what you do to people. To us.
You can't just talk to your family like they're cats that you just want to kick, but know that it's wrong, so you just talk shitty to them instead-- feeling okay about it because you think they can't understand what you're saying.
-----------------------
While I sit here, continuing to have your back, you're somewhere away from me, thinking about what an asshole I can be.
I can listen to you bitch and moan for four days, 24 hours each, and just ..take it in. I can watch you tear people apart, while thinking you're hilarious. I can hear you say rude shit to everyone you come across, and think that it's okay because they know how to take you, or know that you're joking, or whatever-- however you'd like to make it okay, and I'll keep to myself.
The thing is. Don't touch me. Don't play-hit me like we're eight years old, because I'm not eight years old, and I don't like to be touched. Don't think that I'm your little rag doll because something makes you feel like you're at least slightly superior to me, because you aren't. At all. Chances are, you'll never be superior to me, no matter how great I let you feel about yourself in comparison to me.
The other thing is. Don't fuck with me. Know when to hold your tongue when you're speaking with me. I can deal with you spitting out names, even at me, like you're an eleven year old, but know when to stop. Know when and how to control yourself. Know when to stop joking with me in any sort of way that involves physical contact. I don't play those games, and it isn't a secret. I'm not sure what makes you think it's okay to do that all of a sudden, and why you don't know to stop after me telling you more than once, but do it one more time, and I flatten your ass into the ground. I swear I'll fucking do it.
I'm so kind, helpful, reassuring, supportive, brave, and understanding that you forget that I'm a person. Perhaps you start to see me as a portable therapist, but I'm a person. I'm just a very decent person. Maybe once you realize that, you can recognize that I put up with a lot from you as-is, and I stand by while you hurt yourself and others without interefering for your present benefit because I know you prefer it, maybe you could realize that I'm pretty damn great for all of this. But you won't realize that until I write you a blog that you can't read, or write you a letter before a very long period of absence on my part. Then you'll remember and recognize, and appreciate-- after your anger subsides. Then I'll come back, be here for you, play this game all over again, all because I love you more than you could ever love me.
-----------------
PS. Why do I love you more than you can love me? In case it's been unclear, I long to be loved. I search for it. I crave it to the point that it gets me in trouble. My need for love branches out to my awkward man-choices and career-paths (hooking?), and still it's unclear for you.
I'm pretty good on my own, that's no secret. You know that, I know that, we all know that, and I remind you constantly, because I AM independant, and a lot more independant than most people I know-- including you. And you know what? It pisses me off that I get unspoken or unnoticed recognition for that huge accomplishment of mine. But what this is really about is that it's like.. since I'm so okay, I don't seem to need things. Since I'm such a good friend, I must be fine on my end. If I'm so good at being a listener, that must be what I want to do, what I need to do.
I am a person. I wish I didn't have to remind you of this so fucking often, but I'm reminding you once more. I need someone to care about me more than paying for me for something from time to time, paying super-attention to me every once in a while, claiming me to be your best friend. I need someone to hug me when I AM FEELING SAD. When I feel like the world is forgetting that I exist. When the world is swallowing me whole. When I feel like I'm nothing. When someone hurts me. When I'm panicking or stressing out. Sure, I talk to you about it-- I give you the immediate story or update, but summarizing isn't enough for a person, okay? I'm serious.
You don't know how you smother me. How I feel so involved as a person, as a side person to you. I'm only here for you, to you and to me, more and more. It makes me want to breathe. Makes me want to cry and scream and bust your head against a wall. I just get upset, and frustrated, and I feel more alone than I allow you to feel. I'd never let you feel how I feel. I don't let you.
I guess since I'm so great, I don't need to talk, or have you on my side at all times, or be my protector, or anything at all. I'm sure I don't count on you, right? I'm sure I don't plan things according to you and your availabilities and abilites, right? I'm sure I don't get excited and then let down by you, do I? Sure. I've got this. Don't worry about it. Fucking assholes.
FUCKING ASSHOLES.
I try to be a good friend. I know that I AM a good friend.
I take your side against everyone and anyone else, including your other friends and your family.
I'm your back-up and you know that you have that in me.
I listen to you speak about your dreams (literal and figurative), ideas, feelings, and experiences.
I contain myself when I want to take over the conversation to tell you something, because I know it'll make you feel bad-- like I'm not really listening, or like I don't care what you're actually trying to share with me.
Even when you're wrong, I take your side. I don't actually take your side if you're wrong, but I word myself to where I'm on your side without agreeing with whatever the hell you're saying or what you think or what you've done. Only a very bright person would be able to realize that I'm not actually saying that you're right. Even when you're something besides right-- in terms of behavior or what you say-- I don't say anything unless it's appropriate, and between just me and you, so you don't feel attacked or preyed on. I do you a lot of favors because, hey, I'm your fucking friend.
I don't talk crap about you when you aren't around. I don't talk crap about you to my other friends, your other friends, to people who don't even know you, to people when you leave the room, to my family (usually).
You don't realize how good of a friend I am, unless I slip up-- which I don't. Unless I purposely slip up. Which.. I don't. So you are very lucky. You don't even know what you have in me.
-----------------
I'm really glad that I'm not you, no offense.
You have faults that I would hate to have, and not know about.
You are so rude to people, and you don't even care. You don't even think you're being serious, after being called out on it, but you are serious. You are serious in the moment, and you are a bitch about things.
You call people names that are completely inappropriate, and that hasn't been "cute" or "funny" since 8th grade, okay? Be respectful to people-- all people, all old people, medium people, young people, friends, not-friends, family. Don't treat people like they're nothing, because they aren't NOTHING.
It's quite obvious that you feel patronized on a regular basis and that it bothers you, but I'm beginning to see that some people try to make you feel that way on purpose, to get back at you for the way you are towards them. No, it isn't right of them to pull that, but it isn't right what you do to people. To us.
You can't just talk to your family like they're cats that you just want to kick, but know that it's wrong, so you just talk shitty to them instead-- feeling okay about it because you think they can't understand what you're saying.
-----------------------
While I sit here, continuing to have your back, you're somewhere away from me, thinking about what an asshole I can be.
I can listen to you bitch and moan for four days, 24 hours each, and just ..take it in. I can watch you tear people apart, while thinking you're hilarious. I can hear you say rude shit to everyone you come across, and think that it's okay because they know how to take you, or know that you're joking, or whatever-- however you'd like to make it okay, and I'll keep to myself.
The thing is. Don't touch me. Don't play-hit me like we're eight years old, because I'm not eight years old, and I don't like to be touched. Don't think that I'm your little rag doll because something makes you feel like you're at least slightly superior to me, because you aren't. At all. Chances are, you'll never be superior to me, no matter how great I let you feel about yourself in comparison to me.
The other thing is. Don't fuck with me. Know when to hold your tongue when you're speaking with me. I can deal with you spitting out names, even at me, like you're an eleven year old, but know when to stop. Know when and how to control yourself. Know when to stop joking with me in any sort of way that involves physical contact. I don't play those games, and it isn't a secret. I'm not sure what makes you think it's okay to do that all of a sudden, and why you don't know to stop after me telling you more than once, but do it one more time, and I flatten your ass into the ground. I swear I'll fucking do it.
I'm so kind, helpful, reassuring, supportive, brave, and understanding that you forget that I'm a person. Perhaps you start to see me as a portable therapist, but I'm a person. I'm just a very decent person. Maybe once you realize that, you can recognize that I put up with a lot from you as-is, and I stand by while you hurt yourself and others without interefering for your present benefit because I know you prefer it, maybe you could realize that I'm pretty damn great for all of this. But you won't realize that until I write you a blog that you can't read, or write you a letter before a very long period of absence on my part. Then you'll remember and recognize, and appreciate-- after your anger subsides. Then I'll come back, be here for you, play this game all over again, all because I love you more than you could ever love me.
-----------------
PS. Why do I love you more than you can love me? In case it's been unclear, I long to be loved. I search for it. I crave it to the point that it gets me in trouble. My need for love branches out to my awkward man-choices and career-paths (hooking?), and still it's unclear for you.
I'm pretty good on my own, that's no secret. You know that, I know that, we all know that, and I remind you constantly, because I AM independant, and a lot more independant than most people I know-- including you. And you know what? It pisses me off that I get unspoken or unnoticed recognition for that huge accomplishment of mine. But what this is really about is that it's like.. since I'm so okay, I don't seem to need things. Since I'm such a good friend, I must be fine on my end. If I'm so good at being a listener, that must be what I want to do, what I need to do.
I am a person. I wish I didn't have to remind you of this so fucking often, but I'm reminding you once more. I need someone to care about me more than paying for me for something from time to time, paying super-attention to me every once in a while, claiming me to be your best friend. I need someone to hug me when I AM FEELING SAD. When I feel like the world is forgetting that I exist. When the world is swallowing me whole. When I feel like I'm nothing. When someone hurts me. When I'm panicking or stressing out. Sure, I talk to you about it-- I give you the immediate story or update, but summarizing isn't enough for a person, okay? I'm serious.
You don't know how you smother me. How I feel so involved as a person, as a side person to you. I'm only here for you, to you and to me, more and more. It makes me want to breathe. Makes me want to cry and scream and bust your head against a wall. I just get upset, and frustrated, and I feel more alone than I allow you to feel. I'd never let you feel how I feel. I don't let you.
I guess since I'm so great, I don't need to talk, or have you on my side at all times, or be my protector, or anything at all. I'm sure I don't count on you, right? I'm sure I don't plan things according to you and your availabilities and abilites, right? I'm sure I don't get excited and then let down by you, do I? Sure. I've got this. Don't worry about it. Fucking assholes.
FUCKING ASSHOLES.
6.15.2009
So far, I'm quite the little princess.
FRIDAY:
-Work 9a- 3p.
-Got laundry from the home,
-Went back and forth from Mom's house (doing laundry loads) to Gram's (to talk and hang out).
-Ate an awesome hamburger and potatoes (GAH, I LOVE POTATOES) at Gram's, then ran home.
-Packed for the trip, then sat on my doorstep for an hour, on the internet.
-Val was going to be another twenty minutes, so ..
-Daringly sped my moped (without my helmet >.<) to Gram's for the week.
-Stopped to hug my sister goodbye,
-Gram drove me home.
-Val and Jessie picked me up
-Went to Christen's for a while, watched Robot Chicken.
-Left around 10:30p- 11, went to Walgreen's.
-Officially left for Florida.
SATURDAY:
-Got to the hotel at 11:30a-ish.
-Took a nap from 12p- 5.
-Got up, got dressed,
-Went to dinner at Landry's
-ATE: muscles! calamari! seafood-stuffed mushrooms! shrimp fetticini! bananas foster!
-Went home, changed clothes
-Hung out on the balcony for a while,
-Went inside to sit on the big, comfy chair to talk to Gram
-Fell asleep on that big, comfy chair, facing the black ocean
-(At some point) sleep-walked to the bed.
SUNDAY:
-Got up,
-Ate Cap'n Crunch.
-Went to the beach around 11a.
-Went to the pool around 2p.
-Went inside around 4:30p.
-Took a shower, did hair, got dolled up.
-Photos on the balcony.
-Dinner at Ruth's Chris.
-ATE: calamari! fried green tomatoes! shoe-string fries! potatoes au gratin! spinach! barbequed shrimp! grouper! ahi-tuna! chocolate explosion cake! creme brule! fruit and creme sauce!
-Played on the internet.
-Went to sleep around 12:30a- 1.
MONDAY:
-Woke up.
-Ate some grapes.
-Ate a huge breakfast a half hour later.
-ATE: scrambled eggs! veggie sausage! bagel with strawberry cream cheese! bagel with cinnimon cream cheese! strawberries and bananas in yogurt with oats and grapenuts!
-About to take a nap, then watch Reality Bites.
-Going out to tan on the beach for an hour or two.
-Going to Joe's Crab Shack: shrimp marinara!
-Taking a few beers to the beach, to walk and hang.
-Coming in to watch Taking Lives (because supposedly, it'll make me feel a bit resolved).
-Bedtime. Maybe I'll sleep in the closet tonight--this is not a joke.
-Work 9a- 3p.
-Got laundry from the home,
-Went back and forth from Mom's house (doing laundry loads) to Gram's (to talk and hang out).
-Ate an awesome hamburger and potatoes (GAH, I LOVE POTATOES) at Gram's, then ran home.
-Packed for the trip, then sat on my doorstep for an hour, on the internet.
-Val was going to be another twenty minutes, so ..
-Daringly sped my moped (without my helmet >.<) to Gram's for the week.
-Stopped to hug my sister goodbye,
-Gram drove me home.
-Val and Jessie picked me up
-Went to Christen's for a while, watched Robot Chicken.
-Left around 10:30p- 11, went to Walgreen's.
-Officially left for Florida.
SATURDAY:
-Got to the hotel at 11:30a-ish.
-Took a nap from 12p- 5.
-Got up, got dressed,
-Went to dinner at Landry's
-ATE: muscles! calamari! seafood-stuffed mushrooms! shrimp fetticini! bananas foster!
-Went home, changed clothes
-Hung out on the balcony for a while,
-Went inside to sit on the big, comfy chair to talk to Gram
-Fell asleep on that big, comfy chair, facing the black ocean
-(At some point) sleep-walked to the bed.
SUNDAY:
-Got up,
-Ate Cap'n Crunch.
-Went to the beach around 11a.
-Went to the pool around 2p.
-Went inside around 4:30p.
-Took a shower, did hair, got dolled up.
-Photos on the balcony.
-Dinner at Ruth's Chris.
-ATE: calamari! fried green tomatoes! shoe-string fries! potatoes au gratin! spinach! barbequed shrimp! grouper! ahi-tuna! chocolate explosion cake! creme brule! fruit and creme sauce!
-Played on the internet.
-Went to sleep around 12:30a- 1.
MONDAY:
-Woke up.
-Ate some grapes.
-Ate a huge breakfast a half hour later.
-ATE: scrambled eggs! veggie sausage! bagel with strawberry cream cheese! bagel with cinnimon cream cheese! strawberries and bananas in yogurt with oats and grapenuts!
-About to take a nap, then watch Reality Bites.
-Going out to tan on the beach for an hour or two.
-Going to Joe's Crab Shack: shrimp marinara!
-Taking a few beers to the beach, to walk and hang.
-Coming in to watch Taking Lives (because supposedly, it'll make me feel a bit resolved).
-Bedtime. Maybe I'll sleep in the closet tonight--this is not a joke.
6.13.2009
ILML.
It's 11:50a in Evansville.
I've been awake for.. damn-near 29 hours.
AND I'M SO EXCITED THAT I DOUBT I CAN SLEEP!
I'm in Destin, Florida, in a gorgeous condo made for 14.
Check my facebook for photos.
I feel absolutely blessed, basically.
Thanks, God, on the real.
I've been awake for.. damn-near 29 hours.
AND I'M SO EXCITED THAT I DOUBT I CAN SLEEP!
I'm in Destin, Florida, in a gorgeous condo made for 14.
Check my facebook for photos.
I feel absolutely blessed, basically.
Thanks, God, on the real.
6.12.2009
Lessons learned today:
-It's not actually okay to trust people on contact.
-No one is perfect.
-When you're getting mixed signals, base your judgement and feelings on the more lame signals.
-I am still not ready. God just reminded me in a really harsh way.
-Trying to do too many things at one time will lead to distress, one way or another.
-Vacations are sometimes sent our way for recovery.
-I actually have nothing to recover from.
-Don't hate the player, hate the game?
-Happiness is based on you and what is inside of you, based on you-- not on someone else, or anything they have to bring to the table.
-People have crazy ways of sending messages sometimes.
-It's not a good idea to believe something that you made up by yourself.
-Have faith in myself. Remember who I am. Remember how I was. Remember to remember.
-I'm the fucking rule, not the exception.
-I've lost the will to fight.
-No one is perfect.
-When you're getting mixed signals, base your judgement and feelings on the more lame signals.
-I am still not ready. God just reminded me in a really harsh way.
-Trying to do too many things at one time will lead to distress, one way or another.
-Vacations are sometimes sent our way for recovery.
-I actually have nothing to recover from.
-Don't hate the player, hate the game?
-Happiness is based on you and what is inside of you, based on you-- not on someone else, or anything they have to bring to the table.
-People have crazy ways of sending messages sometimes.
-It's not a good idea to believe something that you made up by yourself.
-Have faith in myself. Remember who I am. Remember how I was. Remember to remember.
-I'm the fucking rule, not the exception.
-I've lost the will to fight.
6.11.2009
PLEASE KEEP THE REPORTERS AT BAY.
You never do what I tell you to, never do what I say.
She makes me feel like cancer's contagious, and she has it. Like cancer will pull to me like a magnet to a fridge. Like I need to not be around her. Like I need to not be around anything to do with her. She makes me feel like I'm cancer.
He makes me feel like I'm a painting.
She makes me feel like I need a therapist, and whoop-there she is.
She makes me realize that even someone who knows can't help me. She makes me feel like now's not the time; her time will be my time.
He makes me feel important, only to allow me to feel like I'm less than nothing. He loves me, but He doesn't have the time to keep Himself in my thoughts and heart all the time. Neither do I, apparently.
I don't want to kill myself, like I said before. I just would really appreciate being able to take out my batteries, and chill in a coma for a while.
She makes me feel like cancer's contagious, and she has it. Like cancer will pull to me like a magnet to a fridge. Like I need to not be around her. Like I need to not be around anything to do with her. She makes me feel like I'm cancer.
He makes me feel like I'm a painting.
She makes me feel like I need a therapist, and whoop-there she is.
She makes me realize that even someone who knows can't help me. She makes me feel like now's not the time; her time will be my time.
He makes me feel important, only to allow me to feel like I'm less than nothing. He loves me, but He doesn't have the time to keep Himself in my thoughts and heart all the time. Neither do I, apparently.
I don't want to kill myself, like I said before. I just would really appreciate being able to take out my batteries, and chill in a coma for a while.
Sometimes I can't talk about it.
Today's one of those days where I'm halfway glad that I don't own a gun.
It's also one of those days where I'm halfway pissed for not being able to get ahold of one.
Something inside of me has swollen to expand my ribs, my lungs feel smooshed.
I have cried about one-third of today.
Today's a day where I am making the decision to never eat again.
To never whisper again.
To never forget this feeling.
If I hadn't had so many things to do still, I'd kill myself.
Maybe.
I'm not dramatic. I'm hurt. By you, and you, and those, and that, and this, and whatever.
It's also one of those days where I'm halfway pissed for not being able to get ahold of one.
Something inside of me has swollen to expand my ribs, my lungs feel smooshed.
I have cried about one-third of today.
Today's a day where I am making the decision to never eat again.
To never whisper again.
To never forget this feeling.
If I hadn't had so many things to do still, I'd kill myself.
Maybe.
I'm not dramatic. I'm hurt. By you, and you, and those, and that, and this, and whatever.
6.08.2009
OMGOMGOMG.
(When I type "OMGOMGOMG," I actually say "OHMAHGAH-OHMAHGAH-OHMAHGAH" in my head, really really fast.)
Anyway.
I ..love plain Hershey bars. More than M&Ms. I still love Snickers, Dark Chocolate, Rocky Road candybars, though. Nom nom nom nom.
I guess... I'll leave here (Mom's), and do all this stuff:
-Deposit two checks into bank account #2.
-Get my nails done.
-Go home, and clean my car out.
-Clean my apartment.
-Go through my clothes and take them to Plato's in the morning.
-Start taking notes in my cosmetology book.
-Burn those cds from Billy.
-Ehh.. Eat some spaghetti (left over from last night).
-Head to bed?
..I feel like there was much, much more to do. ..Some things are going to take a bit of time, though. Perhaps today would be a good day to... ... ...nah. I'll do it tomorrow. ;)
Anyway.
I ..love plain Hershey bars. More than M&Ms. I still love Snickers, Dark Chocolate, Rocky Road candybars, though. Nom nom nom nom.
I guess... I'll leave here (Mom's), and do all this stuff:
-Deposit two checks into bank account #2.
-Get my nails done.
-Go home, and clean my car out.
-Clean my apartment.
-Go through my clothes and take them to Plato's in the morning.
-Start taking notes in my cosmetology book.
-Burn those cds from Billy.
-Ehh.. Eat some spaghetti (left over from last night).
-Head to bed?
..I feel like there was much, much more to do. ..Some things are going to take a bit of time, though. Perhaps today would be a good day to... ... ...nah. I'll do it tomorrow. ;)
Well, well well.
I guess I'm going to go along with this plan. You know.. Until I come up with another one. Paha.
Work full-time at the salon.
Work part-time at the movies.
Going to Destin on Saturday.
Start the last third of beauty school, in July.
Graduate in probably April, considering the amount of hours I'll be having to go (due to work).
Go on vacation as a graduation present to myself (hopefully like.. Italy, or Greece, or something).
Probably go to Florida to see Dakota again, in.. September, October, or November.
In the fall of 2010, go to college. Move in on-campus. Maybe w my sister.
Work part-time at the salon, whilest going to college.
Work part-time at the movies, too.
...Blah blah, become a millionaire.
Dig?
Work full-time at the salon.
Work part-time at the movies.
Going to Destin on Saturday.
Start the last third of beauty school, in July.
Graduate in probably April, considering the amount of hours I'll be having to go (due to work).
Go on vacation as a graduation present to myself (hopefully like.. Italy, or Greece, or something).
Probably go to Florida to see Dakota again, in.. September, October, or November.
In the fall of 2010, go to college. Move in on-campus. Maybe w my sister.
Work part-time at the salon, whilest going to college.
Work part-time at the movies, too.
...Blah blah, become a millionaire.
Dig?
6.06.2009
Plane Discoveries.
1. The smell of paper bags makes me want to throw up.
2. Finding pictures or symbols in clouds is so much better in the air.
3. I can’t believe that I wanted to have a child by myself, right now.
4. I will get married.
5. I could be a nun. Honestly.
6. I’ll be a flight attendant in a few years.
7. I’m not a failure.
8. I try too hard, and need to relax.
9. It’s very nice to be regular. It really is.
10. Old people smell.. weird.
11. No one person will be the end of my life as I know it.
12. Even though I am as perfect as possible sometimes, I feel sad still.
13. I love my family more than I let myself get a grasp on.
14. I’m scared to be left, I’m scared to be alone after having been left.
15. My ambition is a false understanding of my courage and determination.
16. Just having a good time can be enough to teach me valuable lessons for life.
17. Is it really worth learning lessons if you don’t pass them on?
18. Listening to music like Chairlift and 303 makes clothes look better when I’m trying them on in a dressing room.
19. It’s okay for me to be moved by the music, and letting it move me—which some people refer to as “dancing.”
20. I have no reason to not exist.
21. I am very lucky that God picked me to be a patch in his quilt.
22. I deserve nothing, but have close to everything.
23. Apparently, knowing the right things to say, being bold enough to stand up for something or someone, and pretending to know a lot makes a person ‘cool.’
24. I have come to terms with being “cute” instead of “pretty,” and I have come to realize that …it doesn’t really matter either way, anyway.
25. I can handle physical pain better than mental pain.
26. I think I just might have the ability to analyze myself objectively, at this point.
27. Little kids have it right. Always.
28. Society can create so many issues, that I’m starting to believe that society has been my role model for a long time now.
29. I’m sad to stay, I’m sad to leave. Belonging is more of an issue than feeling whether or not I fit in. (I fit in anywhere, but I don’t seem to belong anywhere.)
30. Sometimes I have it right, and sometimes my sister leads me to other discoveries (and I’m lucky for that).
31. I’m blessed to be a listener. I hate having to “help” with anything physically, but at least I can help mentally.
32. Being afraid of yourself is a bad thing.
33. There’s no reason to put yourself down, ever. There’s no reason to put anyone else down ever, either.
34. I’m starting to think that I was created for my loving superpowers.
35. Dreams prove to me that I don’t make everything up, like I think I do.
(It’s nice knowing that I’m not always a liar, to everyone else—to myself.)
36. Denial is, in fact, the best way for me to handle my fuck-ups.
2. Finding pictures or symbols in clouds is so much better in the air.
3. I can’t believe that I wanted to have a child by myself, right now.
4. I will get married.
5. I could be a nun. Honestly.
6. I’ll be a flight attendant in a few years.
7. I’m not a failure.
8. I try too hard, and need to relax.
9. It’s very nice to be regular. It really is.
10. Old people smell.. weird.
11. No one person will be the end of my life as I know it.
12. Even though I am as perfect as possible sometimes, I feel sad still.
13. I love my family more than I let myself get a grasp on.
14. I’m scared to be left, I’m scared to be alone after having been left.
15. My ambition is a false understanding of my courage and determination.
16. Just having a good time can be enough to teach me valuable lessons for life.
17. Is it really worth learning lessons if you don’t pass them on?
18. Listening to music like Chairlift and 303 makes clothes look better when I’m trying them on in a dressing room.
19. It’s okay for me to be moved by the music, and letting it move me—which some people refer to as “dancing.”
20. I have no reason to not exist.
21. I am very lucky that God picked me to be a patch in his quilt.
22. I deserve nothing, but have close to everything.
23. Apparently, knowing the right things to say, being bold enough to stand up for something or someone, and pretending to know a lot makes a person ‘cool.’
24. I have come to terms with being “cute” instead of “pretty,” and I have come to realize that …it doesn’t really matter either way, anyway.
25. I can handle physical pain better than mental pain.
26. I think I just might have the ability to analyze myself objectively, at this point.
27. Little kids have it right. Always.
28. Society can create so many issues, that I’m starting to believe that society has been my role model for a long time now.
29. I’m sad to stay, I’m sad to leave. Belonging is more of an issue than feeling whether or not I fit in. (I fit in anywhere, but I don’t seem to belong anywhere.)
30. Sometimes I have it right, and sometimes my sister leads me to other discoveries (and I’m lucky for that).
31. I’m blessed to be a listener. I hate having to “help” with anything physically, but at least I can help mentally.
32. Being afraid of yourself is a bad thing.
33. There’s no reason to put yourself down, ever. There’s no reason to put anyone else down ever, either.
34. I’m starting to think that I was created for my loving superpowers.
35. Dreams prove to me that I don’t make everything up, like I think I do.
(It’s nice knowing that I’m not always a liar, to everyone else—to myself.)
36. Denial is, in fact, the best way for me to handle my fuck-ups.
So now, what does this really mean?
I just had a dream.
Tim, ..was there.
I was with someone, and I wasn't driving. We were on this long road, going to this church (for some reason) that I'd gone to most of my life (that I'd likely never be going to again, for any reason). It was a gorgeous day; maybe midmorning.
We're nearly there, and I look at my phone, and I have a missed call from Brandon O'Grady. (I used to hang out w Brandon years ago, when Tim was still alive, and have ran into him and said 'hey' since, but that's it.)
I call it back, and I'm talking to the person driving, at the same time.
A man answers, and I'm distracted, and then the man realizes who I am, or why I'm calling maybe, and hands the phone to someone else: Tim.
Tim is trying to talk to me, but I'm getting frustrated with whoever's driving me, and then I look to my right, and see where the church should be.
There's a huge ark. I MEAN HUGE. It's so tall, the bottom's so big, it's.. enormous. Bigger than I've ever thought for an ark to be. I don't know why.
I am in awe, and I started kind of flipping out to the driver (who is a friend of mine, in case I didn't make that clear), and Tim's on the phone, trying to talk to me, and I said "who is this?" and he said "Hey, it's me!" in a --come on, we both know who this is-- kind of way.
So I try to tell him what I'm seeing, and that I'm freaking out, because it kind of makes sense that the church is gone, and that they're building an ark because the end of the world's coming, and I kind of ...fuck, I don't even know.
But he gets frustrated because I guess I'm talking over him, like he kept trying to tell me something, and I was so in shock that I kept talking. He got mad and said "Fuck it." to whoever was there with him (who was obviously at least Brandon O'Grady).
And I just stared at the ark, and the driver pulled around in a huge circle in front of it, and wouldn't stop. And I wanted to stop, I guess, but he wouldn't stop the car. And I just stared at it, and the sky that was very very very blue with some thin, white clouds behind the ark, began to turn gray and kind of angry. I kept trying to call back, but no one would answer.
I just stared.
And then I realized that I just talked to Tim.
====================
...Then I just woke up. My alarm went off. Time to get ready for the airport. Then I realized that I just talked to Tim. And I heard his voice, in my dream. His actual voice. And now I realize, I didn't listen to him, and whatever he was trying to tell me. I missed out on whatever that could have been. He didn't seem surprised when I was blabbering about the ark. Maybe he knew, and knew why they were making it-- maybe he was trying to explain to me.
I just talked to Tim. ...And I saw an ark, where a church should've been.
Tim, ..was there.
I was with someone, and I wasn't driving. We were on this long road, going to this church (for some reason) that I'd gone to most of my life (that I'd likely never be going to again, for any reason). It was a gorgeous day; maybe midmorning.
We're nearly there, and I look at my phone, and I have a missed call from Brandon O'Grady. (I used to hang out w Brandon years ago, when Tim was still alive, and have ran into him and said 'hey' since, but that's it.)
I call it back, and I'm talking to the person driving, at the same time.
A man answers, and I'm distracted, and then the man realizes who I am, or why I'm calling maybe, and hands the phone to someone else: Tim.
Tim is trying to talk to me, but I'm getting frustrated with whoever's driving me, and then I look to my right, and see where the church should be.
There's a huge ark. I MEAN HUGE. It's so tall, the bottom's so big, it's.. enormous. Bigger than I've ever thought for an ark to be. I don't know why.
I am in awe, and I started kind of flipping out to the driver (who is a friend of mine, in case I didn't make that clear), and Tim's on the phone, trying to talk to me, and I said "who is this?" and he said "Hey, it's me!" in a --come on, we both know who this is-- kind of way.
So I try to tell him what I'm seeing, and that I'm freaking out, because it kind of makes sense that the church is gone, and that they're building an ark because the end of the world's coming, and I kind of ...fuck, I don't even know.
But he gets frustrated because I guess I'm talking over him, like he kept trying to tell me something, and I was so in shock that I kept talking. He got mad and said "Fuck it." to whoever was there with him (who was obviously at least Brandon O'Grady).
And I just stared at the ark, and the driver pulled around in a huge circle in front of it, and wouldn't stop. And I wanted to stop, I guess, but he wouldn't stop the car. And I just stared at it, and the sky that was very very very blue with some thin, white clouds behind the ark, began to turn gray and kind of angry. I kept trying to call back, but no one would answer.
I just stared.
And then I realized that I just talked to Tim.
====================
...Then I just woke up. My alarm went off. Time to get ready for the airport. Then I realized that I just talked to Tim. And I heard his voice, in my dream. His actual voice. And now I realize, I didn't listen to him, and whatever he was trying to tell me. I missed out on whatever that could have been. He didn't seem surprised when I was blabbering about the ark. Maybe he knew, and knew why they were making it-- maybe he was trying to explain to me.
I just talked to Tim. ...And I saw an ark, where a church should've been.
6.05.2009
Okay. I will be fine. Ha
I am just.. going to breathe.
Smoke some pot.
Work a lot.
Hang out w my sister a whole bunch.
Write my book.
Text Stephen.
And pray a lot.
Problem solved. = /
Smoke some pot.
Work a lot.
Hang out w my sister a whole bunch.
Write my book.
Text Stephen.
And pray a lot.
Problem solved. = /
I'm bummed the fuck out. RIGHT NOW.
Let's see.
I have just completed my one week of being in Florida.
The week that I'm home, Gram, Pop, and Stephen are going to be gone.
I'm leaving for Destin w my best fraan for a week.
I come back, then Stephen leaves for New York.
The third week in July, I'll be gone for like, 9 days.
Wtf.
= (
I have just completed my one week of being in Florida.
The week that I'm home, Gram, Pop, and Stephen are going to be gone.
I'm leaving for Destin w my best fraan for a week.
I come back, then Stephen leaves for New York.
The third week in July, I'll be gone for like, 9 days.
Wtf.
= (
Florida Aventures.
=> This one time, Dakota and I went to Sonic after having spent a good 2.5 hours at Daytona Beach. We were going to take our food to a really pretty park that we've passed millions of times (consider how long I've actually been down here with both trips put together). So, we're sitting in the truck (me on the passenger side), waiting for our food to come out. As hungry people tend to do, we were watching the little Sonic door, expecting our food to be next. To prevent this story from being three days long, we watched a cute, chunky, little black girl come out the door on rollerskates. I suppose between the time of me seeing her come out, and me blinking, she either tripped, or slipped- and a bag of food fell on the ground (she'd caught the other bag of food and the drink, though!). This obnoxious black guy (two parking spaces away from me) started laughing. Not really laughing, but like screeching with obnoxious black guy laughter. He was parked right in front of the Sonic door. She dropped it right in front of his car.
I laugh at people sometimes, it's true, and I laugh on accident most of the time when I am happening to laugh at someone, but come on. Obviously, she's embarrassed anyway, so what is the point of 'calling her out' like that? I got kind of pissed, instantly. So..
As soon as he started laughing, I jerked my head to the side and stared at him. He kept laughing, and saw me staring at him, and kept getting louder (as if that was possible). I yelled "BE NICE." (Which, looking back, is completely uneffective as far as phrases go anyway, but I just really did want him to be anything but an idiot, and just ..be nice.) And he kept laughing, and I kept yelling "be nice" >.<>.< And he smiled at me again, turned his music down and said "Would you ...like to be part of my business?" and winked at me. I just stared at him. Angrily, obviously. I said "No." (Pahahha.) And then a car pulled up between us, and I didn't see him again after that.
=> Yesterday, I had a conversation with Dakota. Like, a person to person kind of thing. He was spilling out memories to me, and I just sat there, listening. It was really nice to just listen to someone like that. ..It was like, zen-ish for me. It's kind of an adventure, considering you're travelling through their mind, where chances are, you've never been before (uncensored, at least).
=> The night before last night, I had a rough time. Stuff was bringing me down-- but not really the stuff, just the way I was thinking about the stuff. Even awesome, great shit, I can swing it to where the bad parts are forced to be seen. (I also hate this part of myself.) I was talking to four people about random, bringing-Tab-down things, and one guy (that I'd become friends with in college) started trying to relate to me, and just.. kept going and going and going. It was good, though. I enjoy listening, really. Turns out, he is one of those outside-happy, inside-sad people, and most of it was due to girl troubles. Poor guy. I tried to explain that perhaps he should try to make himself happy before attempting anything beyond that, like girls, and trying to make a bitch happy. He believes in God, so I told him that I'm sure everything will be just fine, and that just because he doesn't understand all of this now, that doesn't mean that it's simply not happening for no reason. He knows and understands the reason, but is just.. "losing faith," he said. I frowned. You can't get antsy with God. That's not our place. I told him that I'd pray for him, and that he needs to relax, and realize that there are things that are preventing him from having all that he's looking for, and maybe he should concentrate on other things, and better himself FOR himself, etc. Anyway, I helped him, and he was really happy that I just listened to him. I was happy that he was happy that I listened to him.
(I'm not a witnessing- kind of person. I really have no idea what to say, or what I should say, or when it's my place and when it isn't. I like to help, and I can listen, and I can say "Hey, man. I'll pray for you, k?" but to me, even, that sounds so ..lame, and generic. Which is pathetic, I guess, on my part, but that's how it registers for me. I was really happy to explain things to him, through how I have become a lot more relaxed and trusting, and how I've learned so many different things about why I wasn't ready for many things. Apparently, he understood. And he didn't treat me like a generic Christian kid. Holler.)
=> Oh yeah. I jumped a certain somebody's bones the other day. How can a person not care about any sort of religion, but have morals and be fully aware of rights and wrongs? What's the point of recognizing the rights and wrongs, if it ultimately doesn't matter? What's the point of knowing the difference between good and bad, if ..who cares? That led to an awesome conversation. Neither one of us won.
=> I almost died. It was awesome.
After the concert, we walked into the parking garage, and waited for the elevator (I took a picture of a pink gangster mobile, whilest waiting). The elevator opened up for us, we got on, pushed the very tip-top floor, and I was so excited and bursting with joy, I kept talking about how awesome it was and how unbearably great I felt. (Also, about how dying right now would seem extremely appropriate, seeing as nothing will ever be able to make me feel that great ever again.) Then BAM! Our elevator (we were the only people on it) started flipping it's shit. We were probably around the fourth floor, and it started shaking as if it was having a seizure. I was laughing, and just thought this must be a joke (since I'd just mentioned appropriate-death), and it didn't stop, but kept getting worse and worse, ha. We were in between the fourth and fifth floors, and it stopped and after I stared at Dakota, smiling, it started up again! Really forceful. I was telling him how I bet the cable's just going to break or something. It was exciting, and scary, and awesome. I was ready. I welcomed it to happen. He just stood there, holding on to the hand-thingy, chill as can be, and I was just standing there, trying to just stand, haha. It shook violently the whole way to floor six (the top of the garage), and opened. I kind of wanted to stay on that elevator.
=> Today, when Dakota gets out of class, we are going to get ready for the beach, stop at the mall on the way (so I can exchange something for something way cuter), then go to the beach (probably Cocoa or one that starts with an "m" that he's wanted to go to for awhile, and we just never do). I plan on getting ferociously tan today, then we're going to light one, and head to The Hangover. I'll be so tired when I get up in time to catch my plane at 7:30a, that it's damn-near ridiculous that I'm planning so much for tomorrow.
I think Valerie's picking me up from the airport, w Josh, and then we're going to get breakfast. I probably won't eat, seeing as planes fuck me up a little bit, and I haven't eaten much the whole time I've been down here, but it'll be nice to see their faces anyway. Then, she wanted me to help her clean some room or something, with her other friends, but I really don't think I'll be able to. I need to take a nap, and visit Gram and Pop before they leave on their plane for a week (because when they come back, I leave again, ha), get my muchly-missed moped, and work at 6p. I wanted to see Stephen. = ( OH, and I have to clean my apartment, and car out because they're both absolute messes. And I won't have help, because come on, just no.
Lots to do. Not enough time. Out of all the days I've lived, this week has seemed forever long.
I hope I have more patience and appreciation of time when I'm in Destin.
I laugh at people sometimes, it's true, and I laugh on accident most of the time when I am happening to laugh at someone, but come on. Obviously, she's embarrassed anyway, so what is the point of 'calling her out' like that? I got kind of pissed, instantly. So..
As soon as he started laughing, I jerked my head to the side and stared at him. He kept laughing, and saw me staring at him, and kept getting louder (as if that was possible). I yelled "BE NICE." (Which, looking back, is completely uneffective as far as phrases go anyway, but I just really did want him to be anything but an idiot, and just ..be nice.) And he kept laughing, and I kept yelling "be nice" >.<>.< And he smiled at me again, turned his music down and said "Would you ...like to be part of my business?" and winked at me. I just stared at him. Angrily, obviously. I said "No." (Pahahha.) And then a car pulled up between us, and I didn't see him again after that.
=> Yesterday, I had a conversation with Dakota. Like, a person to person kind of thing. He was spilling out memories to me, and I just sat there, listening. It was really nice to just listen to someone like that. ..It was like, zen-ish for me. It's kind of an adventure, considering you're travelling through their mind, where chances are, you've never been before (uncensored, at least).
=> The night before last night, I had a rough time. Stuff was bringing me down-- but not really the stuff, just the way I was thinking about the stuff. Even awesome, great shit, I can swing it to where the bad parts are forced to be seen. (I also hate this part of myself.) I was talking to four people about random, bringing-Tab-down things, and one guy (that I'd become friends with in college) started trying to relate to me, and just.. kept going and going and going. It was good, though. I enjoy listening, really. Turns out, he is one of those outside-happy, inside-sad people, and most of it was due to girl troubles. Poor guy. I tried to explain that perhaps he should try to make himself happy before attempting anything beyond that, like girls, and trying to make a bitch happy. He believes in God, so I told him that I'm sure everything will be just fine, and that just because he doesn't understand all of this now, that doesn't mean that it's simply not happening for no reason. He knows and understands the reason, but is just.. "losing faith," he said. I frowned. You can't get antsy with God. That's not our place. I told him that I'd pray for him, and that he needs to relax, and realize that there are things that are preventing him from having all that he's looking for, and maybe he should concentrate on other things, and better himself FOR himself, etc. Anyway, I helped him, and he was really happy that I just listened to him. I was happy that he was happy that I listened to him.
(I'm not a witnessing- kind of person. I really have no idea what to say, or what I should say, or when it's my place and when it isn't. I like to help, and I can listen, and I can say "Hey, man. I'll pray for you, k?" but to me, even, that sounds so ..lame, and generic. Which is pathetic, I guess, on my part, but that's how it registers for me. I was really happy to explain things to him, through how I have become a lot more relaxed and trusting, and how I've learned so many different things about why I wasn't ready for many things. Apparently, he understood. And he didn't treat me like a generic Christian kid. Holler.)
=> Oh yeah. I jumped a certain somebody's bones the other day. How can a person not care about any sort of religion, but have morals and be fully aware of rights and wrongs? What's the point of recognizing the rights and wrongs, if it ultimately doesn't matter? What's the point of knowing the difference between good and bad, if ..who cares? That led to an awesome conversation. Neither one of us won.
=> I almost died. It was awesome.
After the concert, we walked into the parking garage, and waited for the elevator (I took a picture of a pink gangster mobile, whilest waiting). The elevator opened up for us, we got on, pushed the very tip-top floor, and I was so excited and bursting with joy, I kept talking about how awesome it was and how unbearably great I felt. (Also, about how dying right now would seem extremely appropriate, seeing as nothing will ever be able to make me feel that great ever again.) Then BAM! Our elevator (we were the only people on it) started flipping it's shit. We were probably around the fourth floor, and it started shaking as if it was having a seizure. I was laughing, and just thought this must be a joke (since I'd just mentioned appropriate-death), and it didn't stop, but kept getting worse and worse, ha. We were in between the fourth and fifth floors, and it stopped and after I stared at Dakota, smiling, it started up again! Really forceful. I was telling him how I bet the cable's just going to break or something. It was exciting, and scary, and awesome. I was ready. I welcomed it to happen. He just stood there, holding on to the hand-thingy, chill as can be, and I was just standing there, trying to just stand, haha. It shook violently the whole way to floor six (the top of the garage), and opened. I kind of wanted to stay on that elevator.
=> Today, when Dakota gets out of class, we are going to get ready for the beach, stop at the mall on the way (so I can exchange something for something way cuter), then go to the beach (probably Cocoa or one that starts with an "m" that he's wanted to go to for awhile, and we just never do). I plan on getting ferociously tan today, then we're going to light one, and head to The Hangover. I'll be so tired when I get up in time to catch my plane at 7:30a, that it's damn-near ridiculous that I'm planning so much for tomorrow.
I think Valerie's picking me up from the airport, w Josh, and then we're going to get breakfast. I probably won't eat, seeing as planes fuck me up a little bit, and I haven't eaten much the whole time I've been down here, but it'll be nice to see their faces anyway. Then, she wanted me to help her clean some room or something, with her other friends, but I really don't think I'll be able to. I need to take a nap, and visit Gram and Pop before they leave on their plane for a week (because when they come back, I leave again, ha), get my muchly-missed moped, and work at 6p. I wanted to see Stephen. = ( OH, and I have to clean my apartment, and car out because they're both absolute messes. And I won't have help, because come on, just no.
Lots to do. Not enough time. Out of all the days I've lived, this week has seemed forever long.
I hope I have more patience and appreciation of time when I'm in Destin.
6.04.2009
Hey, Ann; where ya goin'?
I've decided on a plan that will probably work out. Like, really work out. Haha
I've started a book.
I'm going to finish it, seeing as I only have a fifth left to go.
I'm going to stick with my original plan, as far as what I'll do with the book.
(No one knows what I'm talking about, because I have never told anyone about this book.)
I'm growing my hair out to be my natural color again.
This may not seem like "life-plan material," but I assure you that it's totally worthy.
Clown School is going to happen. I will attend, and graduate.
I mean it. It might not be this year, but I will do it.
Because I want to.
I really do want to. = )
I'm also going to get in street kick-boxing at some point.
I'm not physical at all, so it's going to kick my ass, for sure, but I kind of can't wait.
Maybe next summer, or fall, I'll get a motorcycle.
I'm very happy with my moped right now, but let's face it: I'm motorcycle material. ;)
I know that God wants me to be sober-minded, and I respect that.
Deep breath. I have to admit to liking some things that I shouldn't really like.
One of them, being drug-usage. I mean, what? So?
I think that some things make me channel God easier, and I'm not necessarily saying that drugs do that, but.. I could experiment to find out.
I think that I've tried some things, and I liked some things, and I had a good time.
I'm a good girl, and just because I'm on something, that doesn't change me or what I "do" really.
That being said, I plan to do shrooms, and some random things along the way.
I want to do some crazy stuff. Like, jumping out of planes- kind of crazy.
Random things that I wouldn't do on a regular basis.
Things that I'd be scared to do, but I have just one moment of courage, and I go for it.
I plan on travelling. A lot. I mean, I have been going on vacations for years and years now, but now I'm older, and on my very own.
I've travelled quite a bit, being on my own, as well, and I enjoy it.
(On the post before this one, I listed some of the places I'd like to go. And WILL go to.)
And, there are just some things that get me going.
Like, get my heartrate up. Get my breathing fucked. Things that make me feel like I'm going to explode in a really super-good way.
I'm going for that. I try to avoid that, but why?
I want to feel like I'm putting every effort into having a blast in my life.
I'm going to go to a concert for each band that makes me feel this way.
I know that I have said many times before that I couldn't handle it, really, but.. I can sure die trying. ;)
Oh, and I'd love to get married.
I mean.. This seems weird to say. Bites lip.
I've always wanted to get married. And I've had my phases (more often than not, actually) where I know I won't get married because ..why? Why should I? Haha
But I do want to. I'm not sure if anyone will ever love me enough to marry me, and stay true to what marriage is, but I think it'd be cool to have that sometime.
If someone eventually realizes that they could spend every day with me, then roller, man. For real.
If not, though.. I still want to get married.
I want to get eloped in Las Vegas. In a little, cheesy Elvis chapel. I want it to be awesome.
And, if the person that marries me in that chapel in Vegas wants to marry me for realsy (like that big chunk of unlikely crap that I'd typed out above), then we can come home and have a real wedding ceremony, and not even have to tell anyone if we didn't want to!
At the end of this. At the end of me having travelled to these great places, having witnessed my heartthrobbing music being performed live, having written my books (including a book about the life I've led throughout this entire thing), having gotten married (this is morely to do with if it's just a friend/random someone getting married to me), blah blah, I will be happy to pay a hitman to kill me off quick. = )
I'm kind of mostly serious.
------------
Until I get through all of these things,
I suppose I will continue working at my two wwwwwwwonderful jobs,
purhaps (most likely) pick up another part-timer,
consider becoming a flight attendant,
doing GFI studies,
and probably not actually selling myself for get-rich-quick results.
------------
Thanks for listening.
I've started a book.
I'm going to finish it, seeing as I only have a fifth left to go.
I'm going to stick with my original plan, as far as what I'll do with the book.
(No one knows what I'm talking about, because I have never told anyone about this book.)
I'm growing my hair out to be my natural color again.
This may not seem like "life-plan material," but I assure you that it's totally worthy.
Clown School is going to happen. I will attend, and graduate.
I mean it. It might not be this year, but I will do it.
Because I want to.
I really do want to. = )
I'm also going to get in street kick-boxing at some point.
I'm not physical at all, so it's going to kick my ass, for sure, but I kind of can't wait.
Maybe next summer, or fall, I'll get a motorcycle.
I'm very happy with my moped right now, but let's face it: I'm motorcycle material. ;)
I know that God wants me to be sober-minded, and I respect that.
Deep breath. I have to admit to liking some things that I shouldn't really like.
One of them, being drug-usage. I mean, what? So?
I think that some things make me channel God easier, and I'm not necessarily saying that drugs do that, but.. I could experiment to find out.
I think that I've tried some things, and I liked some things, and I had a good time.
I'm a good girl, and just because I'm on something, that doesn't change me or what I "do" really.
That being said, I plan to do shrooms, and some random things along the way.
I want to do some crazy stuff. Like, jumping out of planes- kind of crazy.
Random things that I wouldn't do on a regular basis.
Things that I'd be scared to do, but I have just one moment of courage, and I go for it.
I plan on travelling. A lot. I mean, I have been going on vacations for years and years now, but now I'm older, and on my very own.
I've travelled quite a bit, being on my own, as well, and I enjoy it.
(On the post before this one, I listed some of the places I'd like to go. And WILL go to.)
And, there are just some things that get me going.
Like, get my heartrate up. Get my breathing fucked. Things that make me feel like I'm going to explode in a really super-good way.
I'm going for that. I try to avoid that, but why?
I want to feel like I'm putting every effort into having a blast in my life.
I'm going to go to a concert for each band that makes me feel this way.
I know that I have said many times before that I couldn't handle it, really, but.. I can sure die trying. ;)
Oh, and I'd love to get married.
I mean.. This seems weird to say. Bites lip.
I've always wanted to get married. And I've had my phases (more often than not, actually) where I know I won't get married because ..why? Why should I? Haha
But I do want to. I'm not sure if anyone will ever love me enough to marry me, and stay true to what marriage is, but I think it'd be cool to have that sometime.
If someone eventually realizes that they could spend every day with me, then roller, man. For real.
If not, though.. I still want to get married.
I want to get eloped in Las Vegas. In a little, cheesy Elvis chapel. I want it to be awesome.
And, if the person that marries me in that chapel in Vegas wants to marry me for realsy (like that big chunk of unlikely crap that I'd typed out above), then we can come home and have a real wedding ceremony, and not even have to tell anyone if we didn't want to!
At the end of this. At the end of me having travelled to these great places, having witnessed my heartthrobbing music being performed live, having written my books (including a book about the life I've led throughout this entire thing), having gotten married (this is morely to do with if it's just a friend/random someone getting married to me), blah blah, I will be happy to pay a hitman to kill me off quick. = )
I'm kind of mostly serious.
------------
Until I get through all of these things,
I suppose I will continue working at my two wwwwwwwonderful jobs,
purhaps (most likely) pick up another part-timer,
consider becoming a flight attendant,
doing GFI studies,
and probably not actually selling myself for get-rich-quick results.
------------
Thanks for listening.
Places I want to go (at this point):
-Ireland
-London
-France
-Italy
-Hawaii
-California
-New York
-Canada
-Somewhere that someone wants me to go.
-London
-France
-Italy
-Hawaii
-California
-New York
-Canada
-Somewhere that someone wants me to go.