| (no subject) |
[May. 27th, 2009|10:08 am] |
it has been ages since I last posted. To the point, where I actaully wondered if it had completely died.
What draws me to fucked up guys? It's as if I see some drugie, alcoholic, who makes horrible life descitions, and say "Hey! You're life is in limbo. I'd like to get to know you! "
What draws me towards these fucked up people? Could it be, I wish I had the balls to let my life fuck up, and live in the frame of mind. It's like, being, or talking to a person like that, takes me away from the rat race, and pulls the excagerated, feral side out, breathing life into it. I overlive, for a small time and then leave to a normal life. |
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| Earth Hour |
[Mar. 27th, 2009|09:22 pm] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| |  chipper | ] |
There is going to be a "Where The Wild Things Are" movie.
I have to see this.
In addition. Tomorrow is Earth Hour, and being the "left wing liberal douche" that I am, you can be sure the lights are going out. Granted, we don't leave many on to begin with, and we won't really be saving too much, but..it's nice to do what you can.
Granted, there are people who say it's pointless, and the idea of global warming is bullshit. There are even dicks, who say they will convince people to put "all there lights on, and use as much electricity as possible". But that's ok. Because, at least I know I did something, and that's all I can do.
Earth Hour, Starts 8:30pm local time. Hope everyone can join in. |
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| Getting married |
[Mar. 26th, 2009|08:40 am] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| |  confused | ] |
I'm amazed how many people ask me when I'm going to get married. Christ, I'm not even 21 yet! But, there it goes, "so, when are you and Josh going to get married?" "Josh, when are you going to marry her?" "Are wedding bells coming?"
It borders on funny, and a little weird. Are we the only people who have no wanting, or plans to get married within the next 5-10 years? I suppose I see their point...we have been together for 3 years. Happily, and with no plans to go elsewhere. Which...is exactly the reason not to get married. I dunno. I feel like I'm going crazy sometimes.
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| Chicken and Germans? |
[Mar. 17th, 2009|09:21 am] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| |  blank | ] |
I woke, to a woman speaking German today. It was surreal, and threw me of balance. She just kept speaking, no break, no translation, just spewing on and on. Today is going to be odd.
Last week was horrid. My mother fell and broke her shoulder, So, she has one arm in working condition. No worries, I took the day off from work, and took her to the ER, and proceeded to help her with the normal chores.
The next day after school, we went shopping at WinnDixie, where I nabbed my favorite fried chicken. 3 pieces later and 5 hours later, I'm hugging the toilet. From 10:30pm- 4:00am, I proceeded to die. Every 20 min, I ran to the bathroom. The thought crossed my mind, "Will I die? How long can my body just keep giving liquids?" It's not like I could just go to the ER, since I would have to drive myself. So, I laid there.
1. Called job in the morning. Dave (store manager) proceeded to tell me, that we're only allowed 3 days call off, and this would be my second, after three it's termination. He's such a dick.
2. The fever begins. 103.4. Went to the health dept. and was told they couldn't determine that I should take off of work. Plus they didn't have a doctor on staff.
3. Proceeded to hydrate. And hydrate. And more hydration. Called work, gave 12-24 hours notice. and was taken off the schedual until further notice.
4. Felt dizzy standing or walking around, had to drive my mom to get her meds for her arm.
5. Died, or at least felt like it.
6. Winn Dixie insurance claims called back, and said without a doctor's note saying I couldn't work, they couldn't give lost pay......so they gave $40 gift card. -.-'
It was a long week, and I never want fried chicken again. Well....at least not on the bone. |
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| Fucking Pet Haters. |
[Feb. 25th, 2009|06:17 pm] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| |  aggravated | ] |
I feel so sad about the story of the chimp attack. Sad, and angry.
The media has turned this into some spetical, some "OMG BEASTIALITY??!?!?!" story.
Am I the only one that sees nothing wrong with her love for her chimp? There is nothing "weird" or "creepy" about sleeping with your pet. Just because it's not a cat at the end of your bed, or a dog, means it must mean sex. My mother used to sleep with our pig all the time (when the bed was on the floor). He liked being covered up at night, liked being cuddled. So what.
We managed to teach our parrot to eat with a spoon, and share our food with our animals all the time. (mostly the parrots, since they seem to think they have to eat what we eat) so what. Someone who has raised an animal has a bond. We view them as our family, they are our babies, and we see them with their personallities, and feelings.
When it comes to animals that can speak, and are so close to our own form, of course we're going to develop a feeling of "kinship" to them, dress them in clothes, and treat them like a son. We listen when our birds speak, and occationally have to believe they know exactly what their talking about.
It's sad. It's sad that a closeness to your pet has to be "WEIRD" , and she has to go through this, labeled as a wackjob. I only hope she has a close circle, and knows she did all she could. |
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| Blach |
[Dec. 10th, 2008|12:33 pm] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| |  tired | ] |
Things have been going reasonably smoothly.
This stupid AA degree seems to be taking forever. Even though I only have three more classes to go, I can't see myself away from this dinky community college. I passed Statistics with a C, possibly a B (depending on my final....I need at least a 70 on it, for a B) Here's hoping.
My mom and I got a new birdy, and decided to name him Barrack. Lol, partly because he's an african grey. He's just a baby, and a sweetheart. (although he constantly whines, and gives this baby bird cry)
I'm tired.
I saw a movie the other night, and in the end, desperatly wanted to be tall, thin, white, and blonde. Not that cheap blonde, but that white blonde. It just looked so elegant, so regal. I felt so stumpy, and dirty.
The holiday season is coming soon. I actually have my shopping pretty much done. Just need presents for Mike and Staci, and Josh's family. For the most part, I'm finished.
Working in retail makes me hate people. It makes me hate with a certain over zelous passion. I know I can't expect people to ask correct questions, I know i can't expect them to know things. But....how about you don't promise your kid a present, without researching the damn thing? Although, there are some questions, that actually surpass "stupid" and go into "hilarious".
Such as, "Do you have a Nintendo Playstation?" "*choke* Err, we have Playstations.....do you mean a Wii?" " (Gets slightly annoyed) No. I mean a Nintendo Playstation." " Umm...." |
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| History |
[Nov. 5th, 2008|12:29 am] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| | ecstatic | ] |
We Won.
We Won.
This is one of the, if not the, the most important day of my life. Thank you America, I have hope in you once again. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 24th, 2008|10:49 am] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| | Quiet | ] |
| [ | Shit I'm listening to.... |
| | On the Radio ~ Regina Specktor | ] |
Fall has come, and I'm more than happy to welcome the cooler days. I'm looking forward to the brisk days, and wearing the coat I've had since summer. I love this time of the year. (Actually, I love the whole year, just not the extreme cold and extreme heat) Times are good.
Life just keeps rolling on, day by day, and month by month. I almost feel stuck in one place, but just keep reminding I'm making some sort of progress no matter how small.
The cars are in the shop. My mother's needs a new clutch, fly wheel, and pressure plate. Total cost, aprox. $600.
Mine needs an alignment, and has a square wheel.
Josh has no car.
Weirdly, I'm (at this moment) not stressed in the least.
My refund check for tuition came yesterday. It's funny how my luck is. I know something will always come up and save me.
I feel so small, and awkward around other girls. It's as if the younger generations keep getting older and older, and I'm more and more childish. I mistaken a girl for 21 when she was just turning 17. Seriously. I had to deny her from buying a cd. What happened to the kids looking like kids? Lord knows I didn't look like them at their age. I was lanky, braces, and barely an A cup. I hardly look like them now. How strange.
On my quest to figure this mystery out. I looked up "Stars without makeup." Or, better yet, the YOUNG stars without makeup. Amazing what some makeup will do to a person. Without it, there they were. A young girl, plain, and goofy. No wonder I looked silly at that age. My mother taught me makeup is a waste of money. It was used for vainity, and emphisised the outside, rather than drawing someone to the inside. My mother wasn't allowed to leave the house without a full face of it. So, I was taught the complete opposite.
So, now, at 20. I tried to figure it out. It's so forien. This liquid stuff scares me to death, and overdoing eyeshadow always worries. In the back of my mind, I worry "What if I don't look like myself? What if someone can't recognize me? What if i just go to the dark side, of preps, and get snooty, or look slutty? What if I become Paris Hilton!?! ' That's about the time I start wiping everything off.
Regardless.
When the looks have faded, and everyone has seen your complete body, all you're left with, is who you are. We attempt to look SEXY, HOTXXX, before we even know what the words mean. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 10th, 2008|10:15 pm] |
As a woman I have yet to figure out what defines "hot". What tells us socially, that one girl is pretty, but the other is "Sexy" or "Hotxxx". Josh put it well with "It means it's a girl who may not be attractive, but she looks easy."
I just watched "Georgia Rule". I could read it a mile away. Lohan, wears skimpy clothes, talks about sex, and tries to suduce all the guys.
Now, I'm all for being sexy, all for women being comfortable with your body, and playing the field. However, I'm against the concept of Skimpy = Attractive. The true beauties can make anything look amazing. They don't need giant boobs, flawless ass, or tiny waist. They need that smile, and laugh. That personallity.
It's funny. I fully support porn stars, even strippers. Yet, I dislike the common valley girl. I guess I dislike the overwelming ego behind it. It's well summed up in a line from the movie. (To some stuck up religious girls who have bothered her) "If you follow me, or do anything else, I will find your boyfriends and fuck the hell out of them."
Now, it's that concept "I can get anyone. " "I could have your man." That I will always have issues with.
Bah.
I can't think about the amount of girls with the concept to win people with their bodies. Showing your chest won't bring you love. It may bring you hoards of guys....but won't give you that deep, I'll-feed-you-soup-and-tuck-in-bed-when-you're-sick love.
I'll always find it somewhat amusing, my mother never seems to agree with the new concept of beauty. "You know....that girl isn't really that pretty. She's just like any other girl." Took the words right out of my mouth. |
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| Old dreams and new hopefuls. |
[Jun. 5th, 2008|12:48 am] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| |  anxious | ] |
It's scary how unoriginal we all are. We live the past, reviving the mistakes of our ancestors, and claiming them as our own.
I watched the movie Bobby, and realized we never learn. Nothing has changed in the 40 years that have passed. He spoke for peace, in a time of peace. The youth looked forward, towards him. He was supposed to change it.
I worry.
I worry that Obama will fall, and my children's children will be looking toward the draft, and fighting in a war they never wanted. I worry I'll be able to tell my children where I was, the day our president was killed.
They are so similar. So so similar. I have heard Obama give speeches as if he finished the sentances from Bobby Kennedy himself. I see that glimmer of hope, and realize it's the same glimmer that shone 40 years ago. The nation's problems never changed.
Maybe now, we're ready. |
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| Breakdown, and build up. |
[May. 6th, 2008|03:14 pm] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| |  determined | ] |
| [ | Shit I'm listening to.... |
| | Poltergeist ~ Ghost Hound | ] |
It was a few days ago, that I was ashamed of my life for the first time.
I suddenly realized, I'm behind people my own age. I haven't made myself into what some idiots have become. Granted, they've had money thrown their way, they've had breaks. But...nevertheless, I'm behind my age. I'm working in a dead end job, having to serve these college kids, who have money magically inserted into debit accounts.
For a long time, I've been proud I didn't completely rely on my parents. That I pay for my books, that I pay for just about everything I need.
A few days ago, a old high school aquantence came through my line, and I suddenly was filled with shame. I knew he was only in this county because school is out. I knew he was probably at least a term ahead of me. And here I was, bagging his groceries, and giving him change.
As I look at all the classes I still need to take, and see the university years ahead, I can't help but feel helpless. I know my parents would help if they could. I don't expect them to. I want to make it on my own, but I will always feel this burn, knowing I'll be completing school later than everyone else.
It's so easy to fall into a life of minmum wage. So easy to not take a class because you don't have enough money for the books. It's a rare occation to feel outright ashamed. But I do.
I need to bite the bullet, let my eyes focus. College is not about the graduating class, but about the act OF graduating. Everyone may have my major, but I can be better than them. I know this is something that actually sparks me. It's that one thing, that makes me happy. I need to remember, this one area of excitment, is worth the time, stress, and money. To have a job, you actually enjoy.
I need to remember, I don't have the money to go to a private college, do case studies, or have my parents support me while I take 5 courses. I have to pull my weight, do everything, and give everyone with a silver spoon a run for their money.
I can, and will be successful.
I will make myself worth something.
I may be the underdog, but I will fight until their isn't anything left. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 31st, 2008|09:07 pm] |
...I hate ....how catchy Britney Spears's songs are.....*sigh* It's as bad as Disney movies. I only have to flip on Guston's Song, and I find myself and Josh singing it......*sigh* Stupid brainwashing things.
Now ....to finish downloading Blackout. |
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| Updates and stuff. |
[Mar. 31st, 2008|10:35 am] |
It has been "19" weeks since I've last posted. It seems like such a small number, until you start doing the math, via months.
* Josh and I hit our 2 year aniversary awhile back (Nov. to be exact). I never thought I'd be with someone this long, and be content for so long. Sometimes I wonder how two years could have moved so fast, and having a part of my life being still, and not flying everywhich way. After 2 years, I'm still getting used to the stability.
* Josh turned 22 yesterday, and I follow suit on the 9th, leaving my teen years behind. I'm scared, as this will give me that "Adult" name...and I don't want to be one...the excuse of "But I'm teenagerrrrrr!!!" is far too easy to abuse.
* On Sat. we went to the Renassance Fair. It was nice to be too excited to sleep the night before. It's nice to find something you actually feel knowlegable about. I worry sometimes, that everyone else has a place of expertey...and I have nothing I know. I bought a nice botice, and a new set of horns. ^.^ They are more....blood elf-ish, or Capporcorn-ish.
* I'm working on getting things together in order to move to Gainesville. I still get nervious when thinking about the money aspect...but I know I can't live in this vaccumn forever. I'm not in a rush. I don't want to be one of the students who rush down there, and come back with 4k in debt, and failing grades. I'd much rather be a little older, and not have to do a U-turn.
* I'm still working at Kmart, now promoted to Electronics. It's nice not having to worry about people treating you like shit. Now, I can just sit by the game cases, and purr contently.
* I'm also happy to state I'm with the golden child of the family, making me the golden girlfriend. It's a nice place to sit, escpecially when the other brother/girlfriend are acting like children. It makes the gold shine a little brighter.
* I'm anxiously waiting for my hair to grow out. While the short hair was a nice change....I miss braiding, long ponytails, and the ever-famous hair flip.
* I checked my credit score a while ago...and had no idea I had a decent one. 731 isn't to bad for only having one credit card. I plan to use the score in order to get a purdeh Dell laptop...when I get to UF. |
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| Off key, and still getting paychecks. |
[Nov. 18th, 2007|08:13 pm] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| | pissed off | ] |
| [ | Shit I'm listening to.... |
| | Josh Ritter (An artist who actually CAN sing. | ] |
I just watched the music awards on tv, and am left speechless.
Why are these people superstars? Because their voices can be manipulated on albums, in the safety of a record studio?
I heard Fergie, and...seriously...how has she made it this far? There were countless off key parts, countless flats. Horrible. Horrible. Horrible. For a lover of music, this is painful. Why are these superstars unable to sing live? They have coaches, they have money, they know they will be on stage. Doesn't anyone tell them the truth?
"Oh! I said I'd I'd sing for the award show!"
Manager: "Cancel"
"Huh? Why?"
"Because you can't sing live well."
" *FAIL* "
This whole thing disgusts me. |
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| The meaning. |
[Nov. 14th, 2007|03:25 pm] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| |  thoughtful | ] |
| [ | Shit I'm listening to.... |
| | Without the Girl ~ Daniel Bedingfield | ] |
Bleach stings my nose and skin, as I run across the meaning of life.
It's so simple, quaint in a way.
I smile, and the day brightens when one word clears everything.
The meaning of life, is ...living.
You have to live. You have to do everything you can, squeeze it all in this small life, and not look back until the end. Then, as you see the collage of experiences, you can proudly say, "that was my life."
I came across this, while cleaning. When acid fumes crawled up my nose, burned my eyes, and stung my brain, and suddenly ...it stood there. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 22nd, 2007|12:55 am] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| | blank | ] |
| [ | Shit I'm listening to.... |
| | The Infanta~ The Decemberists | ] |
Life just started looking for me, and I want to tell it to leave me alone.
Aren't I supposed to be living out of my car, tripping on acid, with one packet of ramen sauce? Isn't that what a 19 yr old is suppose to live through? I'm terrified I'll have nothing to tell my children. "Man, you think your life is fucked up? You've got to hear this one...."
My father was a cowboy in a past life. He was also a civil war solder.
My mother was a Victorian woman.
I was a stoner.
I pray I wasn't bitten by a conservative republican, and turn into a boring human being. I'm only 19, what an ugly fate. Bleah. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 15th, 2007|01:06 am] |
I say a lot of the same things ....again and again.
I should really stop.
I should also stop re-reading my LJ. It's a sick, annoying way to see I really haven't changed through the years. Damn I'm a loser. |
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| Random Thoughts and maybe a poem. |
[Jul. 14th, 2007|10:28 pm] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| |  artistic | ] |
| [ | Shit I'm listening to.... |
| | Rick James ~ Jude | ] |
I miss my childhood. That makes me old.
I miss driving to that new home. I miss that feeling of saying my new address, my lips pursed as I pronounce the new street new state new life new chance.
I'd give anything to be a true artist. There was a time I could have been one. I could spill it out of me, bleeding it on the paper through words, shapes, sparking from my fingertips.
I don't have the beat to be a beat poet. Too bad.
Jesus this is a pity fest. I feel like a douche.
Maybe I'll write a quick, random poem.
.......
~ Ode to EMO ~
OmG. My PAAAAAAAAIN is like a stab in my heart
Salt
Burns
From
My
Tears
O
M
G
............
....
...seriously though, Here's something.
A lie.
Bad poetry fills my mind
entering through my eyes and exiting through my fingertips.
Poisoning paper with
obnoxious similes and metallic tasting metaphors.
Too bad.
Scribbles of shallow thoughts
cover folders
plaster notebooks
infuse my skin
I'm not a poet.
I'm a liar. |
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| Life is art, and then I wake up. |
[Jul. 1st, 2007|10:19 pm] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| | complacent | ] |
| [ | Shit I'm listening to.... |
| | A fan | ] |
It's been ages since my last post. I figured I'd wait til I had something important to say, something profound, something artistic. It's taken this long, so I figured it just wasn't going to come.
I'm still working at Kmart, it's a tiring job, but a decent one. As much as I bitch about it, deep in my heart I do somewhat enjoy it. Or, at least I don't mind it for the most part. (It would be much nicer if I didn't have customers.)
Tomorrow will be Josh's and I, one year and 7 month anni. It seems so long ago that we locked eyes for the first time. God, I'm surprised I haven't killed him by now.
I have a Wii, as a gift from Josh. Luv.
Time has moved slowly these past months.
I recently had a tarot reading. It touched me. At one point, the woman looked up at me, straight into my eyes and said "Oh hunny....why are you so hard on your self? Why do you feel so bad?" It struck me. I felt like a wound in my heart had opened, and I was dying. She was right. She proceeded to tell me what I felt. There is a hole. I'm a circle with 98% completed, but that 2% drives me crazy with pain and anxiousness. I've been feeling this way for years. I don't know what will complete it, but it stalks me. The ever present feeling of a missing piece. I'll know it when I find it, I pray that it'll take ahold of me and mold me into the person I'm supposed to be. It'll overwhelm me, infuse itself in my dna, and move my body like a puppet to a higher power. Until then, I continue searching.
On a better note, I went swimming in the ocean about a week ago. It was beautiful. At 7:30 at night, I put on my suit, and left for the beach. The air was soft, rippled with cool streams that would hit your face just long enough to keep you from sweating. The sky was red, and I drove into the sunset. I saw nothing but water plants, birds, and felt nothing but warm air and the beat from my music. The beach was speckled with people when I arrived. Small families took areas, but for the first time, I was not disturbed. With my towel and shoes in a heap, I slid into the water. It held me. The ocean and I were one entity, and I felt her cradle me. I watched the sunset from the water, and let it into every crevice of my body and soul. The people meant nothing, I meant nothing. I was part of the water, and as I floated, staring at the darkening sky, I never felt so beautiful. I felt beautiful walking down the emptying beach, my moon and star covered wraparound blowing. I felt beautiful as I sat on a rocky jetty, staring into the black water. At that moment, I knew the dim glow from the fading sunset made me look perfect. I knew the ocean breeze, blowing my wrap made me look like a gypsy goddess. At that moment, I was complete. As I drove away from the beach, the sky lit up with shots of lighting. My music comforted me, and gently drew me out of the lovely trance. Life was art.
I wish, I could capture these moments, and show them. I wish I could present these small moments of life, to the people I love most. I wish I could come back to them, and live in them. They are my fantasy world, they are my world of dragons and wizards. They are my yellow brick road. These small, views into everyday life. |
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| How my world works |
[Mar. 31st, 2007|06:36 pm] |
| [ | Feeling / Feeling like.... |
| | complacent | ] |
| [ | Shit I'm listening to.... |
| | Celtic Moon~ Enya | ] |
If you've ever mentioned math to me, you'd hear my response as "AH! I HATE MATH!".
There was a time I didn't hate math. There was time I actually enjoyed it. I am reminded of this time, as I work. I enjoy manipulating things. I am amused when I see totals "18.81, or 6.12, 100.01, 12.12. " or the ominous, 66.6 " I smile as I see patterns in everyday life, and am reminded exactly how odd I am. (Since I always start to share my finding, and realize no one would care.)
I remember the days I would actually play with numbers. They were my toys, and I'd move them around, make stories for them, and each problem would go smoothly, simply because I was in touch with the patterns and beat to them.
It's nice to see whatever connection I had with them, is always here. It's now hidden, but always underlining.
After a moment of reflecting, I have realized my thought process is completely different from anyone I've heard of. This pattern making, has gone through music, writing and math.
As I was learning the piano, I would create small stories, each changing through the music, they would tell me what notes followed. "E likes G, hates A , follows C, C enjoys G" ...(I know this makes no sense)
The music's movement told me where to go, the patterns in the notes on the page told me a story of mountains and valleys. My world is unlike any other. It's created from patterns, and foreshadowing. |
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