So, I'm actually sitting in our borrowed time-share apartment. It's been raining all day here, though it's been marginally warmer than back home, where I hear they are having the snowstorm of the century.
The train was... odd. I didn't sleep much, but it wasn't bad after I stopped getting sick.
The big suprise of the day yesterday was seeing my friend Incarnadine who lives in Lorton. I've never actually met her before, but we've been friends for probably about three years now, I suppose. We met on Vampirefreaks.com. Now, I'm not advising that you go out and meet people you meet online in real life, that's not a good idea. I also don't advise giving them your address or phone number. However, Incarnadine and I were one of the good stories about online friends- we were both exactly who we said we were, even if she didn't remember my real name.
So far, we haven't really done anything, because we didn't arrive until 9:00 am, and we couldn't check in until 2:30pm. So we drove around for awhile, and looked at things, and when we checked in me and~ my littler siblings went swimming in one of the resort's seven pools. It was really chlorinated, actually. I know that sounds bratty and spoiled- the pool at our resort had too much chlorine, but I'm really not just bitching.
The timeshare was actually a stroke of luck, because friends of ours offered it to us for a really good rate, as opposed to paying thousands for the week we're spending here. My parents are using so many coupons, it's not even funny, and even still we can barely afford this. But yeah, it's been interesting. I'm so sleepy. XD
Going to take a nap soon, I think.
Oh, and I will have internet, so I should be posting pretty normally. :)
Love you!
~disasters.bitch~
Friday, December 18, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Vacation.
So this is less of a blog, and more of a preemptive strike. I'm going on vacation starting tomorrow morning, and I won't be back until New Years Day or so. I'm not sure if or when I'll be able to post, and even if I am, I'm not sure if I will. I will, at the very least, do a quick journal to myself daily, and I promise to upload pictures of the scenery (or me in very un-analyzable photos) when I get back. I won't put up pictures of my family (sorry!) but I do promise to get some pictures for you.
Where are we going, you ask?
We are going to Florida. Orlando. We're taking the auto-train down. So if you're riding Amtrak to Florida tomorrow, and you see a strange girl carrying a parasol(yes, it came in time), yell Disasters.Bitch, and maybe I'll turn around and answer. XD
Maybe I'll ignore you, for my family's sake.
I must go finish up ze packing now!
Love you....
~disasters.bitch~
Where are we going, you ask?
We are going to Florida. Orlando. We're taking the auto-train down. So if you're riding Amtrak to Florida tomorrow, and you see a strange girl carrying a parasol(yes, it came in time), yell Disasters.Bitch, and maybe I'll turn around and answer. XD
Maybe I'll ignore you, for my family's sake.
I must go finish up ze packing now!
Love you....
~disasters.bitch~
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Throughout the Years: First (and Second) Grade(s)
First grade was interesting. This was the year I became homeschooled, so this was also kind of a two-pronged year.
PUBLIC SCHOOL:
I really did not like my teacher. Once, I forgot to raise my hand in class, and she made me write "I need more attention at home." a hundred times on that big-lined first grade paper, and take it home to my parents.
However, as I mentioned before, I was a smart kid. But my parents wanted to keep me in regular classes. The school's solution was to take me out of "specials" every day to put me in the Gifted program- a program for fifth graders. So every day, I dutifully missed library or music or art, and went and wrote research papers... for awhile, anyway. My parents did eventually complain, and the school's solution was to move my Gifted time to a private class, a half-hour before school. They did not inform my parents of this. Needless to say, I was late almost every day. I spent most of the three months I was in that class making a calendar, with different drawings for each month... They were really elaborate, and I worked really hard. Finally, on the front of the calendar, the teacher told me to write each month. (I would like to say that she never helped me with my projects.) I misspelled "February". I spelled it "F-e-b-u-r-a-r-y". She proceded to throw the entire calendar in the trash. Because I misspelled one word. So my parents decided to homeschool me. Unfortunately for me, they pulled me out the day before Dr. Seuss day. For that day, my father and I had built a life-size replica of a robot in a Dr. Seuss hat. We called it the "Book Bot", and it contained all my Dr. Seuss books. I won the contest- but I didn't get a prize, because I was at home, being homeschooled.
HOMESCHOOLING:
I don't actually remember very much about this, aside from joining homeschool group, which sucked. None of the homeschooled kids liked me, and it was weird. Like, we studied the way math worked in music and things like that. I took the first and third grade school board assessment tests that year, and passed both. (For those who don't know, when you're homeschooled[or privately tutored, as I was by my mother who used to be a schoolteacher] you have to do different things to prove to the state you can read and such. One is to take a test in [I think] first, third and fifth grades.)
In first grade, I was reading at a high school level. I was seven, I think. That was the year I fell in love with the Babysitter's Club, Boxcar Children and anything by Ruth Chew. There were other books, so many I can't tell you titles, but those series were huge.
We tried lots of curriculums, but we ended up doing Abeka for most of my schooling years at home. We did switch to Saxon math after third grade, because there was less busywork.
Now, you'll notice that the title says First (and Second) Grade(s).
This is because I skipped the second grade. I went straight from first to third. However, since my birthday is Oct. 3rd, I missed the cutoff, and spent time behind. I'm not sure if it's all evened out or not, because for the beginning of my senior year, I was sixteen, but that's why I'm not doing an entry on the second grade.
A short note, for those who care about my drug intake(and for my own future referrence): I've been doing really well yesterday and today. Sunday sucked- I was very depressed and angry... but I guess the drugs have started to do something good, because my mood has lifted a lot, though it's obviously from the medicine. I suppose the only way to describe it is that I feel a bit fuzzy- like those Claritin commercials, where the blurry strip is covering the picture. I feel good, but a little fuzzy. I'm also very tired.
PUBLIC SCHOOL:
I really did not like my teacher. Once, I forgot to raise my hand in class, and she made me write "I need more attention at home." a hundred times on that big-lined first grade paper, and take it home to my parents.
However, as I mentioned before, I was a smart kid. But my parents wanted to keep me in regular classes. The school's solution was to take me out of "specials" every day to put me in the Gifted program- a program for fifth graders. So every day, I dutifully missed library or music or art, and went and wrote research papers... for awhile, anyway. My parents did eventually complain, and the school's solution was to move my Gifted time to a private class, a half-hour before school. They did not inform my parents of this. Needless to say, I was late almost every day. I spent most of the three months I was in that class making a calendar, with different drawings for each month... They were really elaborate, and I worked really hard. Finally, on the front of the calendar, the teacher told me to write each month. (I would like to say that she never helped me with my projects.) I misspelled "February". I spelled it "F-e-b-u-r-a-r-y". She proceded to throw the entire calendar in the trash. Because I misspelled one word. So my parents decided to homeschool me. Unfortunately for me, they pulled me out the day before Dr. Seuss day. For that day, my father and I had built a life-size replica of a robot in a Dr. Seuss hat. We called it the "Book Bot", and it contained all my Dr. Seuss books. I won the contest- but I didn't get a prize, because I was at home, being homeschooled.
HOMESCHOOLING:
I don't actually remember very much about this, aside from joining homeschool group, which sucked. None of the homeschooled kids liked me, and it was weird. Like, we studied the way math worked in music and things like that. I took the first and third grade school board assessment tests that year, and passed both. (For those who don't know, when you're homeschooled[or privately tutored, as I was by my mother who used to be a schoolteacher] you have to do different things to prove to the state you can read and such. One is to take a test in [I think] first, third and fifth grades.)
In first grade, I was reading at a high school level. I was seven, I think. That was the year I fell in love with the Babysitter's Club, Boxcar Children and anything by Ruth Chew. There were other books, so many I can't tell you titles, but those series were huge.
We tried lots of curriculums, but we ended up doing Abeka for most of my schooling years at home. We did switch to Saxon math after third grade, because there was less busywork.
Now, you'll notice that the title says First (and Second) Grade(s).
This is because I skipped the second grade. I went straight from first to third. However, since my birthday is Oct. 3rd, I missed the cutoff, and spent time behind. I'm not sure if it's all evened out or not, because for the beginning of my senior year, I was sixteen, but that's why I'm not doing an entry on the second grade.
A short note, for those who care about my drug intake(and for my own future referrence): I've been doing really well yesterday and today. Sunday sucked- I was very depressed and angry... but I guess the drugs have started to do something good, because my mood has lifted a lot, though it's obviously from the medicine. I suppose the only way to describe it is that I feel a bit fuzzy- like those Claritin commercials, where the blurry strip is covering the picture. I feel good, but a little fuzzy. I'm also very tired.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Throughout the Years: Kindergarten
Kindergarten. Well, I actually went to two separate Kindergartens, and I remember a suprising amount.
KINDERGARTEN ONE:
I had a best friend, named Amy, and a boyfriend named Jonathan, who I later found out was also the boyfriend of Amy. We had a bit of a custody battle for awhile.
There was a girl named Sara, who stood at my bus line and used to bully me with her older sister, who I can't remember the name of, but was really mean.
I was in my first play, and I was a boat. Who fell off the stage. It was bad. XD
There was a computer game I played pretty much every time we had lab, that I've never seen again, but it involved colors and numbers and caterpillars, and it was adorable. I loved the game. A lot.
That's about it.
KINDERGARTEN TWO:
I was in Mrs. Smith's class. Hmm. We used to watch movies! Every week, a different kid got to bring in a movie, and we watched it for twenty mintutes at the end of the day if we were good.
I had a few best friends at that house, which was in the middle of town, where a lot of kids hung out. There was the girl across the street (Jessie), my next door neighbour (Sara Sue) and my best school chum (Courtney). I weighed 96 pounds, and I had brown hair and blue eyes. (Okay, so I have a poster of my kindergarten year. XD)
We had a chorus performance, at one point. My parents missed filming most of it, and I remember being really upset about it.
We had three playsets (six swings, two slides, monkey bars, an eagle's nest, a rope and a glider), so we were the most popular house to play at, and the neighborhood kids always came over to play. It was great. I wasn't the most popular kid, but I had tons of friends, and I was really happy.
I wrote a scientific journal, about dirt, I think this year, and I remember reading a lot of book, but I don't remember what, aside from tons of Disney books.
Oh! Because I could read, they asked me if I wanted to read to PreK, so I did, once a month... And they wanted to skip me to 3rd grade, at this point, but my parents wouldn't let me. Hey, if they'd done so, I would have already graduated!
KINDERGARTEN ONE:
I had a best friend, named Amy, and a boyfriend named Jonathan, who I later found out was also the boyfriend of Amy. We had a bit of a custody battle for awhile.
There was a girl named Sara, who stood at my bus line and used to bully me with her older sister, who I can't remember the name of, but was really mean.
I was in my first play, and I was a boat. Who fell off the stage. It was bad. XD
There was a computer game I played pretty much every time we had lab, that I've never seen again, but it involved colors and numbers and caterpillars, and it was adorable. I loved the game. A lot.
That's about it.
KINDERGARTEN TWO:
I was in Mrs. Smith's class. Hmm. We used to watch movies! Every week, a different kid got to bring in a movie, and we watched it for twenty mintutes at the end of the day if we were good.
I had a few best friends at that house, which was in the middle of town, where a lot of kids hung out. There was the girl across the street (Jessie), my next door neighbour (Sara Sue) and my best school chum (Courtney). I weighed 96 pounds, and I had brown hair and blue eyes. (Okay, so I have a poster of my kindergarten year. XD)
We had a chorus performance, at one point. My parents missed filming most of it, and I remember being really upset about it.
We had three playsets (six swings, two slides, monkey bars, an eagle's nest, a rope and a glider), so we were the most popular house to play at, and the neighborhood kids always came over to play. It was great. I wasn't the most popular kid, but I had tons of friends, and I was really happy.
I wrote a scientific journal, about dirt, I think this year, and I remember reading a lot of book, but I don't remember what, aside from tons of Disney books.
Oh! Because I could read, they asked me if I wanted to read to PreK, so I did, once a month... And they wanted to skip me to 3rd grade, at this point, but my parents wouldn't let me. Hey, if they'd done so, I would have already graduated!
Throughout the Years: Birth Through Kindergarten (Oops. I accidentally posted this to the wrong blog! Here now.)
(See! I told you I would!)
Alright... So when I was born, I was a big baby. I was born in a hospital, right outside of a well-known city in the United States, which was, according to my mum, the worst hospital in the entire world. This may have been because they didn't follow procedure and nearly caused her bladder to explode during my birth.
I don't remember anything from that house except for the experience where I slipped on the bathroom floor and chipped off a little piece of my front tooth. I still have a small hole at the top of my teeth where this happened- but this was my own doing, not the bathtub's.
I had a boyfriend then (most serious boyfriend I've ever had, actually) who kissed me in front of our parents, and held my hand a lot, and let me share his bed once. We stayed up talking all night, and were very proud of ourselves.
The year I started preschool was probably the most traumatic of the years I'm discussing in this entry. It was the year they told me I was a brunnette. All my life, until then, I'd been told I was a blonde. Then came preschool. We were instructed to each tell what our characteristics were- height, eye color, hair color, ect. At that point, the teacher felt the need to point out that I was incorrect in my assumption that I was a blonde. I was in fact, brunnette. I cried for days.
The next preschool, where my mother was the principal, was a very interesting place. I think I got into more trouble there than any other school I've attended. One mother brought her daughter in, and my mom had to admit that yes, I punched her daughter in the face. The fact that I had gash marks from the little girl's nails prior to this punching was irrelevant it seemed.
I don't remember having any friends at that school. I probably did, I just don't remember them.
I do remember hating grape juice. They would have grape juice once a week, and I HATED grape juice. I do love it now, but then, I would avoid it like the plague. I think that it's the one thing my tastes have changed on (besides coffee, which I now can't stand).
This is actually all I can remember from those years. That's pathetic... :/
Oh well.
Alright... So when I was born, I was a big baby. I was born in a hospital, right outside of a well-known city in the United States, which was, according to my mum, the worst hospital in the entire world. This may have been because they didn't follow procedure and nearly caused her bladder to explode during my birth.
I don't remember anything from that house except for the experience where I slipped on the bathroom floor and chipped off a little piece of my front tooth. I still have a small hole at the top of my teeth where this happened- but this was my own doing, not the bathtub's.
I had a boyfriend then (most serious boyfriend I've ever had, actually) who kissed me in front of our parents, and held my hand a lot, and let me share his bed once. We stayed up talking all night, and were very proud of ourselves.
The year I started preschool was probably the most traumatic of the years I'm discussing in this entry. It was the year they told me I was a brunnette. All my life, until then, I'd been told I was a blonde. Then came preschool. We were instructed to each tell what our characteristics were- height, eye color, hair color, ect. At that point, the teacher felt the need to point out that I was incorrect in my assumption that I was a blonde. I was in fact, brunnette. I cried for days.
The next preschool, where my mother was the principal, was a very interesting place. I think I got into more trouble there than any other school I've attended. One mother brought her daughter in, and my mom had to admit that yes, I punched her daughter in the face. The fact that I had gash marks from the little girl's nails prior to this punching was irrelevant it seemed.
I don't remember having any friends at that school. I probably did, I just don't remember them.
I do remember hating grape juice. They would have grape juice once a week, and I HATED grape juice. I do love it now, but then, I would avoid it like the plague. I think that it's the one thing my tastes have changed on (besides coffee, which I now can't stand).
This is actually all I can remember from those years. That's pathetic... :/
Oh well.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Okay.... so I know... please don't send hatemail...
Alright. So I know that I promised to update daily... or at least every other day... and it's been eight days. I'm a terrible person. But this is going to be a really, really long blog, or possibly two blogs on the same day, because I have a ton of things to tell you all about.
Okay, so, I don't know if you all remember, but I mentioned about going to Guidance a few weeks ago, and them basically telling me they couldn't help me without notifying my parents. On Thursday, however, I got called to the doctor's, and she told me I could try an antidepressant, without my parents being notified. So I've picked up the perscription, and I'm taking this. I'll let you all know how that goes...
Hmm... Lets see... Oh! So that girl I'm in love with has once again hit the rut of wanting to split up with her current boyfriend. This should seem good to me, except for the fact that I know she'll actually go ahead and start dating someone new before even considering me as an option.
Uhhhh... College applications have mostly been sent in. I've been watching a ridiculous amount of vlogs on youtube, notably meekakitty, ermastrikesback and otherjuicystar07. I know. I'm ridic.
I'm pretty sure I failed my French SAT Subject Test, though the English one went well.
Alright, so this hasn't actually been a long blog, but I have been planning to do a little bit of a blog series over the next few weeks, called "Throughout the Years". This is an idea I've stolen from youtube, and here's how it works. In each blog, you discuss a year in your school life, starting with Birth-Preschool, and continuing as far as your education goes. Simple, right? The reason for this series is mainly because I've been working on a long, "about me" blog, and it's not really getting anywhere, simply because I want to write everything everywhere, so this will be simpler.
Hmmm. This week my family is leaving for Florida, so blogs might be sketchy on the trip, though I'll try to stay on top of it...
Anyway, bed for now, I think, but I'll have a new blog up TOMORROW. Promise. :) <3 you all!
~disasters.bitch~
Okay, so, I don't know if you all remember, but I mentioned about going to Guidance a few weeks ago, and them basically telling me they couldn't help me without notifying my parents. On Thursday, however, I got called to the doctor's, and she told me I could try an antidepressant, without my parents being notified. So I've picked up the perscription, and I'm taking this. I'll let you all know how that goes...
Hmm... Lets see... Oh! So that girl I'm in love with has once again hit the rut of wanting to split up with her current boyfriend. This should seem good to me, except for the fact that I know she'll actually go ahead and start dating someone new before even considering me as an option.
Uhhhh... College applications have mostly been sent in. I've been watching a ridiculous amount of vlogs on youtube, notably meekakitty, ermastrikesback and otherjuicystar07. I know. I'm ridic.
I'm pretty sure I failed my French SAT Subject Test, though the English one went well.
Alright, so this hasn't actually been a long blog, but I have been planning to do a little bit of a blog series over the next few weeks, called "Throughout the Years". This is an idea I've stolen from youtube, and here's how it works. In each blog, you discuss a year in your school life, starting with Birth-Preschool, and continuing as far as your education goes. Simple, right? The reason for this series is mainly because I've been working on a long, "about me" blog, and it's not really getting anywhere, simply because I want to write everything everywhere, so this will be simpler.
Hmmm. This week my family is leaving for Florida, so blogs might be sketchy on the trip, though I'll try to stay on top of it...
Anyway, bed for now, I think, but I'll have a new blog up TOMORROW. Promise. :) <3 you all!
~disasters.bitch~
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Grace (Fiction, Work In Progress... Feedback in the comments? :) )
(The scene opens on a bare stage, with a single spotlight just left of center. GRACE sits calmly in the spot in a folding chair, as though waiting for an interview, smiling serenely at her audience.)
GRACE: My name is Grace.
(Light changes, which will repeat every time G.T. Grace speaks- GRACE tableaus, half-lit, while G.T. Grace speaks.)
Good Time Grace (From here referred to as G.T. Grace): Good-Time Grace, if truth be told. Number scrawled on nearly every bathroom wall from here to Washington DC in the lip liner of other, less honorable girls.
GRACE: I know I’ve been quoted as the girl who “ will take your gray skies, and paint them all to shades of blue.”
G.T. Grace: It’s the other way around really. I’ll take my paint box and muddle your colors until everything is gloomy. It’s only who I am. I don’t mean to make you sad.
GRACE: I hate to leave this place- as long as I’ve lived here, I’ve always been welcomed, and had more friends than I honestly know what to do with.
G.T. Grace: Not that they really mind much. Friends, just like me, are for the good times. Times like this, when there’s nobody to talk to but yourself, is when you make those realizations.
GRACE: I couldn’t have done it without the loving support of my boyfriend, Smith.
G.T. Grace: Probably won’t speak of him again after next week. He’s getting boring to me, I think. Boys leave me cold. They’re only good for one thing, and it’s cash. Cold, hard cash.
GRACE: The past four years, I’ve been a leader in our community.
G.T. Grace: Though, what kind of leader, I’m not really sure.
GRACE: I’m very concerned about the growing rates of drug and alcohol abuse in teens, so I’ve been working to reduce it for the past three years, and I think we’ve made great progress.
G.T. Grace: Wouldn’t it be great if they knew that I can’t convince one of my only friends to stop smoking and getting smashed on school nights.
GRACE: And in my spare time, oh, I volunteer a lot, helping with a local children’s group, but my guilty pleasure is that I like to knit.
G.T. Grace: My guilty pleasure is knitting, it’s true- but in my spare time, I run a subversive website chronicling all the problems with society, using language that would make these people cringe.
GRACE: If I could have one wish for the world, I think I’d have to say that I would wish for everyone to love each other.
G.T. Grace: Love each other- ha. In what way would more loving be a good thing for me? Those disgusting hands that creep across your skin are the reason to beg for love? Those hurt eyes when you walk away are why you say your prayers?
GRACE: Now, as most of you know, I read the announcements every morning.
G.T. Grace: Even though half the time, the cheery voice is false, and my teeth clench around their names.
GRACE: So I think you should all know, that I love Jesus.
G.T. Grace: I love Jesus, because Jesus will always love me, and most days, he’s all I’ve got.
GRACE: And I love all of you.
G.T. Grace: Even the jerks I walk the halls with.
GRACE: After today, we’ll all move on into the world- a little wiser, a littler older, but each and every one of us will have learned something in these four years.
G.T. Grace: I never said it had to be positive.
GRACE: And I know you will all support me in the future, just as I support you.
G.T. Grace: Although I’ve never really been supported here. Not at all. They’ve always called me stuck up, or too damn depressed for my own good. Not that I’m really surprised, just slightly hurt. I’d never have expected that the nail’s head would throb quite like this.
(Fuzzy lighting on BOTH)
BOTH: My name is Grace. Good-Time Grace, actually. I grew up in a small town, and in a small town, everybody remembers everything- except what really happened. When I was a kid, there was this boy, and some things happen that linger in the fuzzy recesses of my mind as a bad, but nearly imaginary memory. But as the rumors flew, I lost control. I was suddenly Good-Time Grace, no matter that my clothes were loose and modest, or that my face boasted no makeup. I was the worst kind of tease- the kind that wasn’t. I’m older now- old enough to know what it means, and to notice the things I lack, and the things I receive. I am appreciative, dear town, dear friends, dear loved ones. You have given me what I always dreamed of- A title.
(GRACE steps into center, smiling broadly.)
GRACE: I’m so privileged to have the honor of giving this speech. I don’t have much else to say, except that we did it, and how proud I am of the accomplishments we made. And so, for the last time, this is Grace-
G.T. Grace: Good-Time Grace, actually-
GRACE: Over and out.
GRACE: My name is Grace.
(Light changes, which will repeat every time G.T. Grace speaks- GRACE tableaus, half-lit, while G.T. Grace speaks.)
Good Time Grace (From here referred to as G.T. Grace): Good-Time Grace, if truth be told. Number scrawled on nearly every bathroom wall from here to Washington DC in the lip liner of other, less honorable girls.
GRACE: I know I’ve been quoted as the girl who “ will take your gray skies, and paint them all to shades of blue.”
G.T. Grace: It’s the other way around really. I’ll take my paint box and muddle your colors until everything is gloomy. It’s only who I am. I don’t mean to make you sad.
GRACE: I hate to leave this place- as long as I’ve lived here, I’ve always been welcomed, and had more friends than I honestly know what to do with.
G.T. Grace: Not that they really mind much. Friends, just like me, are for the good times. Times like this, when there’s nobody to talk to but yourself, is when you make those realizations.
GRACE: I couldn’t have done it without the loving support of my boyfriend, Smith.
G.T. Grace: Probably won’t speak of him again after next week. He’s getting boring to me, I think. Boys leave me cold. They’re only good for one thing, and it’s cash. Cold, hard cash.
GRACE: The past four years, I’ve been a leader in our community.
G.T. Grace: Though, what kind of leader, I’m not really sure.
GRACE: I’m very concerned about the growing rates of drug and alcohol abuse in teens, so I’ve been working to reduce it for the past three years, and I think we’ve made great progress.
G.T. Grace: Wouldn’t it be great if they knew that I can’t convince one of my only friends to stop smoking and getting smashed on school nights.
GRACE: And in my spare time, oh, I volunteer a lot, helping with a local children’s group, but my guilty pleasure is that I like to knit.
G.T. Grace: My guilty pleasure is knitting, it’s true- but in my spare time, I run a subversive website chronicling all the problems with society, using language that would make these people cringe.
GRACE: If I could have one wish for the world, I think I’d have to say that I would wish for everyone to love each other.
G.T. Grace: Love each other- ha. In what way would more loving be a good thing for me? Those disgusting hands that creep across your skin are the reason to beg for love? Those hurt eyes when you walk away are why you say your prayers?
GRACE: Now, as most of you know, I read the announcements every morning.
G.T. Grace: Even though half the time, the cheery voice is false, and my teeth clench around their names.
GRACE: So I think you should all know, that I love Jesus.
G.T. Grace: I love Jesus, because Jesus will always love me, and most days, he’s all I’ve got.
GRACE: And I love all of you.
G.T. Grace: Even the jerks I walk the halls with.
GRACE: After today, we’ll all move on into the world- a little wiser, a littler older, but each and every one of us will have learned something in these four years.
G.T. Grace: I never said it had to be positive.
GRACE: And I know you will all support me in the future, just as I support you.
G.T. Grace: Although I’ve never really been supported here. Not at all. They’ve always called me stuck up, or too damn depressed for my own good. Not that I’m really surprised, just slightly hurt. I’d never have expected that the nail’s head would throb quite like this.
(Fuzzy lighting on BOTH)
BOTH: My name is Grace. Good-Time Grace, actually. I grew up in a small town, and in a small town, everybody remembers everything- except what really happened. When I was a kid, there was this boy, and some things happen that linger in the fuzzy recesses of my mind as a bad, but nearly imaginary memory. But as the rumors flew, I lost control. I was suddenly Good-Time Grace, no matter that my clothes were loose and modest, or that my face boasted no makeup. I was the worst kind of tease- the kind that wasn’t. I’m older now- old enough to know what it means, and to notice the things I lack, and the things I receive. I am appreciative, dear town, dear friends, dear loved ones. You have given me what I always dreamed of- A title.
(GRACE steps into center, smiling broadly.)
GRACE: I’m so privileged to have the honor of giving this speech. I don’t have much else to say, except that we did it, and how proud I am of the accomplishments we made. And so, for the last time, this is Grace-
G.T. Grace: Good-Time Grace, actually-
GRACE: Over and out.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Just a quick post...
Yes, I know, I've been glaringly absent, and I promise you a nice big post tomorrow after my tests.
However, I did want to respond to a comment I recieved a couple posts back about maturity and things like that.
The post in question (bitch is bitching, I think it's called... two posts before this, at any rate), was about my best friend, who I've known since infancy (pretty much the only person that's happened with- we move a lot)... and the whole issue is a lot larger and more complex than I let on in that short blog. It was complaining(there's no way around it), but it was honest. I am honest with you guys, every single post (unless marked fiction) is 100% truth.
My friend isn't always around anymore- but that doesn't mean she loves me less or doesn't care, she's really just busy, and I know that. But this entire blog is based on emotion- my emotions, which are often irrational and intense.
My point is, though I do whine, I do love her, and I respect that we can't be attached at the hip. I don't anticipate things always staying the same- that would be overly naive of me. But I do miss our previous closeness.
I appreciate the comment, just wanted to clear up any misconception. :)
However, I did want to respond to a comment I recieved a couple posts back about maturity and things like that.
The post in question (bitch is bitching, I think it's called... two posts before this, at any rate), was about my best friend, who I've known since infancy (pretty much the only person that's happened with- we move a lot)... and the whole issue is a lot larger and more complex than I let on in that short blog. It was complaining(there's no way around it), but it was honest. I am honest with you guys, every single post (unless marked fiction) is 100% truth.
My friend isn't always around anymore- but that doesn't mean she loves me less or doesn't care, she's really just busy, and I know that. But this entire blog is based on emotion- my emotions, which are often irrational and intense.
My point is, though I do whine, I do love her, and I respect that we can't be attached at the hip. I don't anticipate things always staying the same- that would be overly naive of me. But I do miss our previous closeness.
I appreciate the comment, just wanted to clear up any misconception. :)
Monday, November 30, 2009
Oh dear.
I'm feeling a bit ADD today...
Uhhhm. I've been playing with fire tonight. Yeah, I know, bad of me, especially as it resulted in a small, accidentally on purpose candlewax burn. And I was making a blowtorch with perfume and a lighter, and I ACCIDENTALLY made the fire hover over my thumb. It was amazing. And ridic.
Hm. What else... Actually did my homework. 0_0
Okay, so finally, now that I've pretended to blog, I wanted to tell you guys about this amazing girl. I don't think she's gay (tear, tear), but if she was, I would stalk her and love her for a little while, anyway.
http://www.youtube.com/user/meekakitty#p/u/18/aXckCA3sjBw
She's wonderful. Go watch something. Its hilarious.
I halfheartedly want to be a youtube star... but nobody would watch me. Haha.
Uhhhhhhhh.
Yeah. Really. Nothing to say. Sorry!
Love you!!!!!
~disasters.bitch~
Uhhhm. I've been playing with fire tonight. Yeah, I know, bad of me, especially as it resulted in a small, accidentally on purpose candlewax burn. And I was making a blowtorch with perfume and a lighter, and I ACCIDENTALLY made the fire hover over my thumb. It was amazing. And ridic.
Hm. What else... Actually did my homework. 0_0
Okay, so finally, now that I've pretended to blog, I wanted to tell you guys about this amazing girl. I don't think she's gay (tear, tear), but if she was, I would stalk her and love her for a little while, anyway.
http://www.youtube.com/user/meekakitty#p/u/18/aXckCA3sjBw
She's wonderful. Go watch something. Its hilarious.
I halfheartedly want to be a youtube star... but nobody would watch me. Haha.
Uhhhhhhhh.
Yeah. Really. Nothing to say. Sorry!
Love you!!!!!
~disasters.bitch~
Sunday, November 29, 2009
I know this makes me a terrible person...[bitch is bitching]
I really miss being the one that she came to when she was upset. I'm really envious that he gets to do that now.
I love her. I'm not in love with her, but I love her, more than anything. I can't think of anything, including my own life, I wouldn't give to make her happy.
I guess I should really mean that- let her be happy, even if it means she doesn't have any need of me anymore. Especially if it means that.
She doesn't want to talk to me anymore. Not like she used to. She answers my crisises with "Oh." or "Okay." or the like. I think she's outgrown me, like the training wheels on her bike or something.
And I hate it- I hate being alone, I suppose...
Because I am alone. I've lost her. I've lost everyone. This whole break we've had... This whole time, I've had text messages from two people. One from a eighth grader who was bored senseless, and sent me abbreviation texts "wsp?", and the other from a wannabe gangsta asshole who wanted me to fix up his service learning.
I'm tired of being alone.
I love her. I'm not in love with her, but I love her, more than anything. I can't think of anything, including my own life, I wouldn't give to make her happy.
I guess I should really mean that- let her be happy, even if it means she doesn't have any need of me anymore. Especially if it means that.
She doesn't want to talk to me anymore. Not like she used to. She answers my crisises with "Oh." or "Okay." or the like. I think she's outgrown me, like the training wheels on her bike or something.
And I hate it- I hate being alone, I suppose...
Because I am alone. I've lost her. I've lost everyone. This whole break we've had... This whole time, I've had text messages from two people. One from a eighth grader who was bored senseless, and sent me abbreviation texts "wsp?", and the other from a wannabe gangsta asshole who wanted me to fix up his service learning.
I'm tired of being alone.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
lets try this again...
Okay... so I know, it's been four days, with no real reason for not posting. Just haven't had anything inspiring to write. Besides which, I've barely been around. I've been cleaning a lot- I know, giving up spare time to clean. So lame.
Uh... I don't know. Really, really nothing to write about... OH!
I did make a minor biblical discovery tonight at church. Well, discovery for me.
1st Corinthians 6:7-15
Okay. Now:
Ephesians 4&5:20-32:1-5
Okay. Ephesians, although written later, is also written by Paul. Now. Go back. Look at the lilac-highlighted parts. How similar are they? Very similar. But look more closely. Greed. Impurity. Sexual immorality. Cursing. Impurity. Anything about homosexuality? Not really. Hmph. I wonder why that is. Here's my little theory on that. During his life, Paul did an awful lot. He used to be a hater himself, back in the day, telling anyone who would listen that Christians sucked and arresting them for not following Jewish law. He was pretty much a small minded asshole. That didn't change a whole lot. He was still an asshole. He was just a Jesus-loving asshole. His first book (Thessalonians) sounds a lot like the pretenders that Jesus was talking about- very self-loving and proud. He actually talks about this whole deal there too: that you abstain from sexual immorality, 4 so that each of you knows how to possess his own vessel(1st Thes. 4:3b-4.)
So as he goes on, he gets frustrated again, pretty much bitching at the new Christians until Ephesians goes down. When wrote this, he was in prison. I'm not positive, but I get the feeling he was feeling a lot kinder to the people who made mistakes while he was living among murderers and whatnot, which is why I see no mention of homosexuality- which, back in the day, was a pretty impure thing to do, even if you're going on medical definition alone. Ick. Can you imagine how much disease there must have been back then, if men were having sex without a good way to clean up? Yeah. Sorry. Bad path to go down, but it is really late. Anyway- from this little epiphany, I'm even more convinced that homosexuality is akin to eating pork- one of God's provisions to prevent people from getting sick back before medicine. I eat pork. And ham. And bacon. Not so much shellfish(because I find them nasty, not because they're immoral). I just don't believe that God can hate someone he made. That'd be pretty hypocritical of him, actually, since he asks us to love everyone, and forgive 77x7 ills done against him. Even if I have lesbian sex 539 times, I honestly don't think God can hate me for it. After all- God made me. God doesn't make mistakes. Otherwise... Oh goodness. I'd hate to be the one to tell people at the gates of Heaven that they were God's mistakes and couldn't come in...
But hey, Peter, you gotta do what you gotta do. Good luck with kicking those really strong biker lesbians out... I wouldn't want to fight them, particularly not in a floaty little robe.
Going to bed now, before I get more sacreligious.
~disasters.bitch~
Uh... I don't know. Really, really nothing to write about... OH!
I did make a minor biblical discovery tonight at church. Well, discovery for me.
1st Corinthians 6:7-15
7 Therefore, it is already a total defeat for you that you have lawsuits against one another. Why not rather put up with injustice? Why not rather be cheated? 8 Instead, you act unjustly and cheat—and this to brothers! 9 Do you not know that the unjust will not inherit God's kingdom? Do not be deceived: no sexually immoral people, idolaters, adulterers, male prostitutes, homosexuals, 10 thieves, greedy people, drunkards, revilers, or swindlers will inherit God's kingdom. 11 Some of you were like this; but you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.Easy enough, right? I highlighted that line, because in this verse, Paul acknowledges that maybe, just maybe, these Corinthians don't know that what they're doing is wrong. Right? He's going "Oh man, don't they know what they're doing?"
Okay. Now:
Ephesians 4&5:20-32:1-5
20 But that is not how you learned about the Messiah, 21 assuming you heard Him and were taught by Him, because the truth is in Jesus: 22 you took off your former way of life, the old man that is corrupted by deceitful desires; 23 you are being renewed in the spirit of your minds; 24 you put on the new man, the one created according to God's [likeness] in righteousness and purity of the truth.25 Since you put away lying, Speak the truth, each one to his neighbor, because we are members of one another. 26 Be angry and do not sin. Don't let the sun go down on your anger, 27 and don't give the Devil an opportunity. 28 The thief must no longer steal. Instead, he must do honest work with his own hands, so that he has something to share (AR) with anyone in need. 29 No rotten talk should come from your mouth, but only what is good for the building up of someone in need, in order to give grace to those who hear. 30 And don't grieve God's Holy Spirit, who sealed you for the day of redemption. 31 All bitterness, anger and wrath, insult and slander must be removed from you, along with all wickedness. 32 And be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving one another, just as God also forgave you in Christ. (5)Therefore, be imitators of God, as dearly loved children. 2 And walk in love, as the Messiah also loved us and gave Himself for us, a sacrificial and fragrant offering to God. 3 But sexual immorality and any impurity or greed should not even be heard of among you, as is proper for saints. 4 And coarse and foolish talking or crude joking are not suitable, but rather giving thanks. 5 For know and recognize this: no sexually immoral or impure or greedy person, who is an idolater, has an inheritance in the kingdom of the Messiah and of God.
Okay. Ephesians, although written later, is also written by Paul. Now. Go back. Look at the lilac-highlighted parts. How similar are they? Very similar. But look more closely. Greed. Impurity. Sexual immorality. Cursing. Impurity. Anything about homosexuality? Not really. Hmph. I wonder why that is. Here's my little theory on that. During his life, Paul did an awful lot. He used to be a hater himself, back in the day, telling anyone who would listen that Christians sucked and arresting them for not following Jewish law. He was pretty much a small minded asshole. That didn't change a whole lot. He was still an asshole. He was just a Jesus-loving asshole. His first book (Thessalonians) sounds a lot like the pretenders that Jesus was talking about- very self-loving and proud. He actually talks about this whole deal there too: that you abstain from sexual immorality, 4 so that each of you knows how to possess his own vessel(1st Thes. 4:3b-4.)
So as he goes on, he gets frustrated again, pretty much bitching at the new Christians until Ephesians goes down. When wrote this, he was in prison. I'm not positive, but I get the feeling he was feeling a lot kinder to the people who made mistakes while he was living among murderers and whatnot, which is why I see no mention of homosexuality- which, back in the day, was a pretty impure thing to do, even if you're going on medical definition alone. Ick. Can you imagine how much disease there must have been back then, if men were having sex without a good way to clean up? Yeah. Sorry. Bad path to go down, but it is really late. Anyway- from this little epiphany, I'm even more convinced that homosexuality is akin to eating pork- one of God's provisions to prevent people from getting sick back before medicine. I eat pork. And ham. And bacon. Not so much shellfish(because I find them nasty, not because they're immoral). I just don't believe that God can hate someone he made. That'd be pretty hypocritical of him, actually, since he asks us to love everyone, and forgive 77x7 ills done against him. Even if I have lesbian sex 539 times, I honestly don't think God can hate me for it. After all- God made me. God doesn't make mistakes. Otherwise... Oh goodness. I'd hate to be the one to tell people at the gates of Heaven that they were God's mistakes and couldn't come in...
But hey, Peter, you gotta do what you gotta do. Good luck with kicking those really strong biker lesbians out... I wouldn't want to fight them, particularly not in a floaty little robe.
Going to bed now, before I get more sacreligious.
~disasters.bitch~
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Things that make me want to kill myself:
Funny: Girls that talk too loudly on their cell phones, just so you can hear the sordid details of their sex lives.
Serious: Getting pictures taken, and realizing how fat you truly are, because none of your old clothes fit.
Funny: Really old women wearing really see through skirts with really dark underwear.
Serious: Going to the school doctor for a checkup and hearing "Wow. You've really put on some weight this year, haven't you?"
Funny: Flicking on the television and realizing that there's absolutely nothing on aside from crap situational comedies and crime shows.
Serious: Realizing how much I really, really wish my life was like one of those sitcoms. I'd even settle for the crime show, honestly.
Funny: People who call me a dyke.
Serious: Realizing that I am a lesbian, and I'm going to hell anyway.
Funny: Zits.
Serious: My face.
Funny: Kevin Federline.
Serious: Knowing that none of the girls I fall for will ever love me back.
Its a bit of a bad night, I think. I'm sitting on my bed with my brand new cell phone and my same old razorblade, wondering why I even bother anymore. Is that terrible of me?
*shrugs* Whatever. Watching Sugar Rush. Maybe it will help.
Just thought I'd say thank you to my new "follower". You know you're lame when you can count all of them on one hand.
Serious: Getting pictures taken, and realizing how fat you truly are, because none of your old clothes fit.
Funny: Really old women wearing really see through skirts with really dark underwear.
Serious: Going to the school doctor for a checkup and hearing "Wow. You've really put on some weight this year, haven't you?"
Funny: Flicking on the television and realizing that there's absolutely nothing on aside from crap situational comedies and crime shows.
Serious: Realizing how much I really, really wish my life was like one of those sitcoms. I'd even settle for the crime show, honestly.
Funny: People who call me a dyke.
Serious: Realizing that I am a lesbian, and I'm going to hell anyway.
Funny: Zits.
Serious: My face.
Funny: Kevin Federline.
Serious: Knowing that none of the girls I fall for will ever love me back.
Its a bit of a bad night, I think. I'm sitting on my bed with my brand new cell phone and my same old razorblade, wondering why I even bother anymore. Is that terrible of me?
*shrugs* Whatever. Watching Sugar Rush. Maybe it will help.
Just thought I'd say thank you to my new "follower". You know you're lame when you can count all of them on one hand.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Corinthians 6:9-11
So... I thought I'd do something new, for once, and try my hand at the whole "Being a teenage Christian lesbian" thing. Here goes.
People(and by people, I mean one or two) have been recently asking me how I can be Christian and lesbian in conjunction, when they seem to be so adamantly against each other.
Well, I wanted to look at the verses more specifically, and on an individual basis to explain my views on the subject. I personally use a Christian Standard Bible, so that's what I'm quoting.
"Sexually immoral people", which do include homosexuals, according to study, also include having sex during menstruation and having sex with temple whores to worship fertility goddesses. Okay, so maybe not everyone does that. Idolators- well, not everyone worships idols. Not everyone is an adulterer or a male prostitute. "Thieves, greedy people, drunkards, revilers, or swindlers" will not inherit either. Oh dear. I guess none of us will inherit the kingdom of heaven. I don't know a single person on earth who has never been greedy or been a little sneaky about something, even if it wasn't malicious. Poor Catholics. Drunkards? They drink in church, for goodness' sake! Now, "revilers" was a word I had to look up. According to the dictionary, a reviler is someone who curses. Now, people will turn it off for church, but I know for a fact that half the people in church on Sunday have a dirty mouth Monday through Saturday.
Yes, I'm a homosexual. I'll admit to being a bit greedy sometimes. I try hard not to curse, but I occasionally slip up and I am known for being a bit sneaky.
Towards the end of the verse, it talks about being saved by Jesus Christ. If you've ever been a church, you've heard them say that God will forgive you for your sins if you ask him. To ask for forgiveness, you have to be willing to change. I don't think that my lesbianism is something really changeable, so I open every prayer with these words:
People(and by people, I mean one or two) have been recently asking me how I can be Christian and lesbian in conjunction, when they seem to be so adamantly against each other.
Well, I wanted to look at the verses more specifically, and on an individual basis to explain my views on the subject. I personally use a Christian Standard Bible, so that's what I'm quoting.
9 Do you not know that the unjust will not inherit God's kingdom? Do not be deceived: no sexually immoral people, idolaters, adulterers, male prostitutes, homosexuals, 10 thieves, greedy people, drunkards, revilers, or swindlers will inherit God's kingdom. 11 Some of you were like this; but you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.This verse is quoted all the time in reference to homosexuality. They want to focus on the word homosexuals, not the entire text, but the text as a whole is crucial here.
"Sexually immoral people", which do include homosexuals, according to study, also include having sex during menstruation and having sex with temple whores to worship fertility goddesses. Okay, so maybe not everyone does that. Idolators- well, not everyone worships idols. Not everyone is an adulterer or a male prostitute. "Thieves, greedy people, drunkards, revilers, or swindlers" will not inherit either. Oh dear. I guess none of us will inherit the kingdom of heaven. I don't know a single person on earth who has never been greedy or been a little sneaky about something, even if it wasn't malicious. Poor Catholics. Drunkards? They drink in church, for goodness' sake! Now, "revilers" was a word I had to look up. According to the dictionary, a reviler is someone who curses. Now, people will turn it off for church, but I know for a fact that half the people in church on Sunday have a dirty mouth Monday through Saturday.
Yes, I'm a homosexual. I'll admit to being a bit greedy sometimes. I try hard not to curse, but I occasionally slip up and I am known for being a bit sneaky.
Towards the end of the verse, it talks about being saved by Jesus Christ. If you've ever been a church, you've heard them say that God will forgive you for your sins if you ask him. To ask for forgiveness, you have to be willing to change. I don't think that my lesbianism is something really changeable, so I open every prayer with these words:
Hey God. I'm still a lesbian. I know you hate me right now, but I'm sorry, and I hope you'll still love me and listen to the rest of what I have to say.
Yep. Inadequate and way too much to ask, but I get the feeling that they still love me up there, especially when they tell me things like this:
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Out of Place
The more I read about it, the more I truly wish I had been born around 1840. Yes, yes, I know- women had little to no rights, restrictive regulations about society, no technology, no real schooling, bedbugs, fatal diseases, ect.
However, I long for the days when bigger women (yes, me...) were considered beautiful, where pale skinned creatures were envied, where everybody wrote in beautiful, loopy cursive and listened to the same types of music and spoke eloquently. I wish that embroidery and sewing were a widely-used skill, and that normal women wore corsets and bustle skirts, boots and capes every day. I would miss my makeup, Relient K and indoor plumbing, but to live in a society like that of Fingersmith or Tipping the Velvet- it would be worth it.
Plus- and I know this seems ridiculous to wish for, in the great age of homosexual acceptance and whatnot- "Romantic friendship" between women was really common: AND ACCEPTED. Basically- you could marry, and hate your husband, and have a lady friend on the side to be close with. All the benefits of ordinary marriage and all the fun of a girl in bed. ;)
Okay, I know, fantasy world. But I suppose I've always been a romantic.
However, I long for the days when bigger women (yes, me...) were considered beautiful, where pale skinned creatures were envied, where everybody wrote in beautiful, loopy cursive and listened to the same types of music and spoke eloquently. I wish that embroidery and sewing were a widely-used skill, and that normal women wore corsets and bustle skirts, boots and capes every day. I would miss my makeup, Relient K and indoor plumbing, but to live in a society like that of Fingersmith or Tipping the Velvet- it would be worth it.
Plus- and I know this seems ridiculous to wish for, in the great age of homosexual acceptance and whatnot- "Romantic friendship" between women was really common: AND ACCEPTED. Basically- you could marry, and hate your husband, and have a lady friend on the side to be close with. All the benefits of ordinary marriage and all the fun of a girl in bed. ;)
Okay, I know, fantasy world. But I suppose I've always been a romantic.
Woman Seeking Woman: Hopeless romantic seeks brainy femme who won't make fun of her for wearing corsets, will put up with obnoxiously heavy breathing and a high, feminine voice and compromise on vacation locations. Loves lesbian films, high heeled shoes, blogging, staying up far past her bedtime on the phone and waltzing to completely inappropriate music. If you like Italian food and cuddling on the sofa, please contact to meet a girl who will never forget your birthday and will never break your heart.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Your eyes are like a suicide; your tongue is still a rusty knife, cutting me open from the inside.
I want to start a revolution. I really, really do. I know that sounds stupid- there are tons of revolutions going on out there- but what frustrates me the most about society is meetings about meetings and no progress.
For example- I'm a member of a committee to prevent underage drug and alcohol abuse. Now, I'm not going to say I'm the best example- I will admit to considering getting smashed or stoned- but I do think that we need to be more responsible about substance abuse. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, this group is impossibly slow at getting anything done. Three years into our grant, we're still arguing over our mission statement and whether or not its actually a problem!
I don't know. Things need to change. Things have to change.
For example- I'm a member of a committee to prevent underage drug and alcohol abuse. Now, I'm not going to say I'm the best example- I will admit to considering getting smashed or stoned- but I do think that we need to be more responsible about substance abuse. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, this group is impossibly slow at getting anything done. Three years into our grant, we're still arguing over our mission statement and whether or not its actually a problem!
I don't know. Things need to change. Things have to change.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Prom Dresses
I'm a little bit frustrated right now.
My father just called me downstairs. He wanted to tell me about some great dresses he'd found for me for prom. This is what they're like, with slight variations.
Now, you might be asking, what's so wrong with that?
Nothing, really, except that its so completely not my style that its ridiculous.
Poor thing, you're thinking. She can't find a dress she likes.
Its not like I'm expecting an achingly hip, EA-styled confection...
I'd just like to find something a little less bridal.
Couldn't they make something like this in a plus size?!
I know, I know, wishful thinking.
And another thing: Why are all the prom dresses sleeveless?!
I know- skin is in and all that jazz, and formal dresses with sleeves have a tendency to end up looking like confections.
But couldn't someone make a line of inexpensive, beautiful dresses that are a tiny bit more modest?
Like this:
Yeah, a little out there, but still pretty!
Look. All I'm saying is, prom is marketed to teenage girls as the one night where you should absolutely feel like a princess.
Preparing for my senior prom, I'm feeling more and more like the frog.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
"At seventeen, its hard to see past Friday night..."
Friday night was bad. Last night wasn't much better. I feel as though I'm falling to pieces a little bit, I guess just because the show wasn't fun, I feel like the whole world's falling apart. Isn't that lame?
I guess I'm just tired of everything I do falling to bits.
I guess...
I don't know what I'm saying. I just felt like I should post something to document these past few days.
Hopefully something happens to write about soon.
<3
~disasters.bitch~
I guess I'm just tired of everything I do falling to bits.
I guess...
I don't know what I'm saying. I just felt like I should post something to document these past few days.
Hopefully something happens to write about soon.
<3
~disasters.bitch~
Thursday, November 12, 2009
To Write Love On Her Arms Day
So, tomorrow is "TWLOHA" day. I'm wondering how many people I'll see with it tomorrow.
I've asked people in a few of my classes to wear it for me- if nobody else, they know me, and that might be a reason. I really wish I could start a social revolution. I think more than anything, that is the one thing I want to do. Ridiculous of me?
Yeah, I know.
Also tomorrow- Play! Won't tell you what it is or where at, but I hope you'll cross your fingers and toes and keep the M-word sacred for me.
Well, I should go. I know I haven't posted anything substantial, what with it being hell week, but I promise- next week I will post at least one vendetta-worthy emphatic statement.
Je t'adore. :)
~disasters.bitch~
PS- if you're reading this, I'd love [love love] to see your "Love". Pictures? ;) I'm sure I can come up with some reward if you put them up.
I've asked people in a few of my classes to wear it for me- if nobody else, they know me, and that might be a reason. I really wish I could start a social revolution. I think more than anything, that is the one thing I want to do. Ridiculous of me?
Yeah, I know.
Also tomorrow- Play! Won't tell you what it is or where at, but I hope you'll cross your fingers and toes and keep the M-word sacred for me.
Well, I should go. I know I haven't posted anything substantial, what with it being hell week, but I promise- next week I will post at least one vendetta-worthy emphatic statement.
Je t'adore. :)
~disasters.bitch~
PS- if you're reading this, I'd love [love love] to see your "Love". Pictures? ;) I'm sure I can come up with some reward if you put them up.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Makeup.
So, for lack of anything truly consequential to write about, I'm going to do a little bit of a fluff opener about my makeup collection. I know what you're all thinking: She's a dyke, isn't she? Hahaha. A dyke who loves [loves loves] dramatic colors, especially on her face, and I want to do a bit of a shameless plug about my favorites.
My favorite liner is Covergirl's Perfect Point Plus, which is a crayon rather than a pencil or liquid. How amazing is it that big girls get crayons for their faces?
These actually aren't the ones I've got; mine aren't sparkly, but the colors are similar. I have a turquoise and blue combo, a green and khaki and a lilac and purple. I'm craving these new ones, and hope to get the sparkly black and silver as soon as possible.
My favorite liner is Covergirl's Perfect Point Plus, which is a crayon rather than a pencil or liquid. How amazing is it that big girls get crayons for their faces?
Very awesome. In addition to being the easiest to put on, it also stays better than anything but kohl for me, so props. :)
I love Covergirl for shadows, particularly this lovely color called French Lavendar that I'm actually out of at the moment, and a bright, springy green from their new line of colors that a girl from the drama club picked the label off of during our summer production.
Anyhow, I've recently discovered a new love for colors: They're called H.I.P. (High Intensity Pigments) and they're by L'Oreal. I got the "Concentrated Shadow Duos".
These actually aren't the ones I've got; mine aren't sparkly, but the colors are similar. I have a turquoise and blue combo, a green and khaki and a lilac and purple. I'm craving these new ones, and hope to get the sparkly black and silver as soon as possible. Its really sad to say, but my favorite lipstick is actually a silver lipstick that I bought for ten cents at a bargain discount store, thinking I could use it to play with for a show sometime, with a host of sisters in colors like purple, green and blue. Unfortunately for me, its the best damn lipstick I've ever had, especially with a coat of Carmex on top. Its called Colore, and the tube is black with a gold paper sticker on the inside of a clear cap. Seriously- if you see it, buy the silvery gray one- best wintery gloss ever.
Last but not least, I have to plead with you. I've been wanting to do an edgy, goth look for ages- years, and I've racked up a nice collection of products, including a red glitter liquid eyeliner, a black powder shadow without glitter, black lipstick and loads of black liners and sparkly shadows, but I've never been quite sure how to go about that without just looking like I'd been abused. Advice? Comments below!
Love you!
~disasters.bitch~
PS- Tomorrow, I promise a less girly chat. Well... Maybe I'll talk about ACTUAL girls for once. Haha. Ooh! Actually, stay tuned for the update on the great porn prank failure! Au demain!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Failing.
Do you ever feel like no matter what you try, you always fail?
Today's been one of those days. I just found out I'm failing my AP Biology class. Haha... Isn't it great?
First time I've failed ANYTHING. I feel really, really stupid.
Right now, my grades are: A, /, B, E. My parents are saying that I'm not allowed to go to the cast party if my grades aren't up. Ha. Whatever. I don't even really care anymore. Nobody in this damn show likes me anyway.
Oh, and about the therapy? So not happening. Apparently, they'd need to bill my parents. So yeah. Forget that.
I'm going to get back to work now... Maybe I'll feel better if this place isn't a dump.
I love you.
~disasters.bitch~
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Comment!
So, it seems I have my first REAL comment. Not that the other comments aren't real, but I mean... It seems to be a comment from somebody I don't know. I guess that was a stupid thing to post.
I'm really nervous about tomorrow. I'm supposed to find out what I'm doing then. I'm skipping second period. I'm already behind. Great. *sighs*
I'm not really posting now, just an obligatory post to fill my daily quota.
Love you.
Miss you.
Thanks again.
-disasters.bitch-
I'm really nervous about tomorrow. I'm supposed to find out what I'm doing then. I'm skipping second period. I'm already behind. Great. *sighs*
I'm not really posting now, just an obligatory post to fill my daily quota.
Love you.
Miss you.
Thanks again.
-disasters.bitch-
Friday, November 6, 2009
Eeeek! I just found something Fabulous!
So as some of you know, I'm a total bookworm, with a preference for lesbian literature (obviously). I'm also a lesbian film buff. Girl + Girl= fab. Anyway, so I was googling something completely unrelated, and found this little gem:
http://www.leewind.org/
What's this, you ask?
A queer literature site. This makes me extremely excited (in a total, nerdy "I love books" way. Perverts.)
Anyway, there's this book called "Ash", which I'm particularly longing for. However, I'm almost certain they won't have it at my local library. I'd also love to read this other book... "Absolutely Maybe".
Okay, so I know this is a short blog, but I've already posted today, so no complaints.
Goodnight for real this time.
http://www.leewind.org/
What's this, you ask?
A queer literature site. This makes me extremely excited (in a total, nerdy "I love books" way. Perverts.)
Anyway, there's this book called "Ash", which I'm particularly longing for. However, I'm almost certain they won't have it at my local library. I'd also love to read this other book... "Absolutely Maybe".
Okay, so I know this is a short blog, but I've already posted today, so no complaints.
Goodnight for real this time.
Takes me a minute to admit it when I'm wrong.
Today, I did a really brave thing.
Last night, on the date that I told you all about, she offered to take me to the doctor's, to get medication if I needed it.
I took it into my own hands instead.
Today, I told the guidance counselor that I wasn't feeling good- gave her my symptoms and the period of time I've been having them, and she told me that she thought I was depressed. She said that from what she saw, I was headed towards disaster. [I didn't mention to her that I'm disasters.bitch. I doubt she'd have thought it was funny, and I wasn't feeling humorous in the context anyway.]
Aside from my self mutilation and suicide plans [which I knew she couldn't hear without calling my parents], I was completely honest. [minus the gay thing, which was irrelevant.] I took off my mask.
Strangely enough, I haven't been able to put it back on yet. I couldn't bring myself to be energetic and happy for rehearsal. I couldn't make light talk with my Mom. I haven't really told anybody yet- you guys can be the first to hear it all.
The plan is that she's going to talk to the school psychologist (who she doesn't think has any openings, but she's asking anyway) on Monday, and then she'll talk to the doctor for the Wellness Center on Tuesday, which is her day at the school.
If all goes well, whatever treatment is going to happen will happen by the middle of next week (unless it's medication, which might take longer, I think, because I don't know how in the world I'd pick up the perscription) and hopefully I'll be better soon.
Whatever happens, I'll keep you all posted.
~disasters.bitch~
Last night, on the date that I told you all about, she offered to take me to the doctor's, to get medication if I needed it.
I took it into my own hands instead.
Today, I told the guidance counselor that I wasn't feeling good- gave her my symptoms and the period of time I've been having them, and she told me that she thought I was depressed. She said that from what she saw, I was headed towards disaster. [I didn't mention to her that I'm disasters.bitch. I doubt she'd have thought it was funny, and I wasn't feeling humorous in the context anyway.]
Aside from my self mutilation and suicide plans [which I knew she couldn't hear without calling my parents], I was completely honest. [minus the gay thing, which was irrelevant.] I took off my mask.
Strangely enough, I haven't been able to put it back on yet. I couldn't bring myself to be energetic and happy for rehearsal. I couldn't make light talk with my Mom. I haven't really told anybody yet- you guys can be the first to hear it all.
The plan is that she's going to talk to the school psychologist (who she doesn't think has any openings, but she's asking anyway) on Monday, and then she'll talk to the doctor for the Wellness Center on Tuesday, which is her day at the school.
If all goes well, whatever treatment is going to happen will happen by the middle of next week (unless it's medication, which might take longer, I think, because I don't know how in the world I'd pick up the perscription) and hopefully I'll be better soon.
Whatever happens, I'll keep you all posted.
~disasters.bitch~
Thursday, November 5, 2009
X and O- a way to show, just how much I've really missed you...
Just got home from a spontaneous date with this beautiful girl I never thought would ever be interested in me. I got home at around five-thirty from rehearsal. I literally walked through the door, took off my shoes and my phone buzzed with a text consisting of two words: "Whatcha doin?" When I replied with a concise "About to fix myself some dinner. Why?" She proceeded to ask me out for dinner. Suprisingly, my mom let me go- under the impression we were friends, of course.
We went out to this little diner-type place, where I didn't know anybody, and neither did she. She had pancakes and I had some chicken-sammich thing. Yum. We kind of held hands a little over the table, which was amazingly cute. <3
Anyhow, we sat there talking for forty-five minutes. When the waitress took our plates, I actually ordered pie so we could sit longer. Three Cokes later, we left, giggling and smiling and just happy to be together.
We drove around for awhile, before going to my house and parking in the parking lot next door with the lights out. We sat there for a half-hour, just talking about everything. Finally, when we got to my house, we hugged goodbye. And then we hugged goodbye again. And just when I thought I would let go, I kissed her.
She had this beautiful little smile on her face when I let go, like she had a wonderful secret. I was just about to go into my house, and she kissed me back. I skipped up the steps, and looked back at her in the car, certain that there was never so beautiful a moment as watching her smile at me through the car window.
I've been in a little bit of a cloud this week, simmering on low, while I struggled to deal with the way I've been feeling about this other girl. She's really great- pretty, smart and funny- but I've come to the realization that really, she doesn't care about playing with my heart. I'm a game to her- a yoyo to bounce up and down, a fish to be reeled in and released with my heart yanked halfway out of my chest. No matter how good I am to her- no matter how many presents I give her or ways I show her that I love her, she'll never love me the way I love her. I'll always be her stupid little pet- her puppy dog that will follow her around no matter how many times she beats me.
I'm done following her. I love her. I love her. I love her. But I'm letting go. I can't keep doing this to myself. I can't keep doing this to her. It's not healthy, and it's not sane.
I love her... but I love myself too. I'm worth something in this world- obviously, based on tonight alone, other people care. Other people LIKE ME.
I know it's cliche, but I think right now, I've got to say that Cher says it best. Go refresh your nineties souls.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B5xsiKBJGW4
Goodnight beautifuls.
And to the beautiful mixtape, tonight was... breathtaking.
Thank you.
~disasters.bitch~
We went out to this little diner-type place, where I didn't know anybody, and neither did she. She had pancakes and I had some chicken-sammich thing. Yum. We kind of held hands a little over the table, which was amazingly cute. <3
Anyhow, we sat there talking for forty-five minutes. When the waitress took our plates, I actually ordered pie so we could sit longer. Three Cokes later, we left, giggling and smiling and just happy to be together.
We drove around for awhile, before going to my house and parking in the parking lot next door with the lights out. We sat there for a half-hour, just talking about everything. Finally, when we got to my house, we hugged goodbye. And then we hugged goodbye again. And just when I thought I would let go, I kissed her.
She had this beautiful little smile on her face when I let go, like she had a wonderful secret. I was just about to go into my house, and she kissed me back. I skipped up the steps, and looked back at her in the car, certain that there was never so beautiful a moment as watching her smile at me through the car window.
I've been in a little bit of a cloud this week, simmering on low, while I struggled to deal with the way I've been feeling about this other girl. She's really great- pretty, smart and funny- but I've come to the realization that really, she doesn't care about playing with my heart. I'm a game to her- a yoyo to bounce up and down, a fish to be reeled in and released with my heart yanked halfway out of my chest. No matter how good I am to her- no matter how many presents I give her or ways I show her that I love her, she'll never love me the way I love her. I'll always be her stupid little pet- her puppy dog that will follow her around no matter how many times she beats me.
I'm done following her. I love her. I love her. I love her. But I'm letting go. I can't keep doing this to myself. I can't keep doing this to her. It's not healthy, and it's not sane.
I love her... but I love myself too. I'm worth something in this world- obviously, based on tonight alone, other people care. Other people LIKE ME.
I know it's cliche, but I think right now, I've got to say that Cher says it best. Go refresh your nineties souls.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B5xsiKBJGW4
Goodnight beautifuls.
And to the beautiful mixtape, tonight was... breathtaking.
Thank you.
~disasters.bitch~
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Exhaustion
So... Maybe I'll actually blog for once.
The past few days/weeks have kind of been a blur.
I think I'm developing depression... let me look up those symptoms.
Anyway... Ummm... Shout out to A.B.(did you realize your initials are AB? *giggles*) Anyway... Danke for the comments, and I'm glad you appreciate my writing. :)
So... I'm feeling really awful. I suppose I've got some kind of cold-thing now, but I'm not exactly sure why I'm so achy. Maybe it's the cold- I hate the weather here- it's so yo-yo-y. If I wear long sleeves in the morning, I sweat all day and still freeze by the time rehearsal's done. If I wear short sleeves, I shiver until I get home, and it takes ages to defrost under my blankets...
Speaking of blankets, I had an amazing nap tonight. About an hour and a half long. I just passed out, and didn't resurface until I had to get up and shower, to rid myself of the sticky sweat of wearing long sleeves. Now, of course, I'm freezing again, because my hair takes hours and hours to dry when not blown dry, so after an hour and a half, it's still dripping.
Lesbian updates... lets see. Uhhh. Oh! Found out a girl (from our county rival school, that I've only met once) has a crush on me! Not just any crush, mind, but a crush large enough that on two separate occasions, with two separate friends, she's mentioned it to people, who were sworn to secrecy that they wouldn't tell me. She's a bit shorter than I am, red-haired, with beautiful eyes, though the part the messengers in question (who by the way, did not spill the beans... I guessed.) focused on her flat-chestedness. From my memory(which isn't perfect, as the occasion we spent together, which consisted of seventeen hours together on a trip to New York City was over six months ago...), she wasn't that flat chested. Although, I am a terrible judge of chest sizes, because, to me, anything below a D-cup is rather small in comparison... (I'm a triple D, moving on up into an E soon.) Maybe she is. I don't know. But she's a very sweet, if not a little interesting. However, perhaps it's this whole kiss-withdrawral syndrome thing...
Speaking of Syndromes, does anyone else have the problem when they'll go to say an acronym, and they mix up the letters? For example, in my A&P class today, someone asked what SARS stood for. The teacher replied "That Asian flu thing, right?" Now, before you get on him for being a racist... well, okay, he is a racist. Anyway, I piped up with "Sudden Asian Respiratory Disease"- forgetting of course, that SARS is spelled with an S and not a D at the end. I quickly stuttered out "I mean, Syndrome." But by that point, it had instilled doubt into their minds (otherwise, I'm nearly positive they would have believed me. I can't believe how much stuff I can make up in that class. =])
Oh, and on the subject of flu- just so everyone's clear, yes, I did have h1n1, and no, it wasn't that bad. I'm still alive... unfortunately.
Anyway, on that happy note, I'm off to bed. Mmmmm, sleep. I haven't slept in ages... almost two hours now! Horrors! Goodnight, faithful readers... who never comment?
So... If I don't have it, I'm not sure what this is. But yeah. I think I might.
The past few days/weeks have kind of been a blur.
I think I'm developing depression... let me look up those symptoms.
Sadness or hopelessness (check.)
Irritability, anger, or hostility (check. I'm a really un-angry person, but lately, I've been really grouchy. I've been pissing myself off.)
Tearfulness or frequent crying (check. Again. Never used to cry.)
Withdrawal from friends and family (check.>.> I've been sitting up here alone for the past four hours... okay, not unusual, but I haven't talked to anyone, except a brief set of emails on facebook. So...)
Loss of interest in activities (check. Not wanting to go to drama, write or do artistic things? What?)
Changes in eating and sleeping habits (check. I can't keep an eating pattern anymore, and I can no longer sleep at night.)
Restlessness and agitation (check. I can't BE here anymore!)
Feelings of worthlessness and guilt (check. check. check.)
Lack of enthusiasm and motivation (Hahahahahahaha. check. What if I no longer really want to do anything?)
Fatigue or lack of energy (check! Sleep...)
Difficulty concentrating (check. Blogging rather than homework, and I'm barely sticking to finishing this.)
Thoughts of death or suicide (check.)
Anyway... Ummm... Shout out to A.B.(did you realize your initials are AB? *giggles*) Anyway... Danke for the comments, and I'm glad you appreciate my writing. :)
So... I'm feeling really awful. I suppose I've got some kind of cold-thing now, but I'm not exactly sure why I'm so achy. Maybe it's the cold- I hate the weather here- it's so yo-yo-y. If I wear long sleeves in the morning, I sweat all day and still freeze by the time rehearsal's done. If I wear short sleeves, I shiver until I get home, and it takes ages to defrost under my blankets...
Speaking of blankets, I had an amazing nap tonight. About an hour and a half long. I just passed out, and didn't resurface until I had to get up and shower, to rid myself of the sticky sweat of wearing long sleeves. Now, of course, I'm freezing again, because my hair takes hours and hours to dry when not blown dry, so after an hour and a half, it's still dripping.
Lesbian updates... lets see. Uhhh. Oh! Found out a girl (from our county rival school, that I've only met once) has a crush on me! Not just any crush, mind, but a crush large enough that on two separate occasions, with two separate friends, she's mentioned it to people, who were sworn to secrecy that they wouldn't tell me. She's a bit shorter than I am, red-haired, with beautiful eyes, though the part the messengers in question (who by the way, did not spill the beans... I guessed.) focused on her flat-chestedness. From my memory(which isn't perfect, as the occasion we spent together, which consisted of seventeen hours together on a trip to New York City was over six months ago...), she wasn't that flat chested. Although, I am a terrible judge of chest sizes, because, to me, anything below a D-cup is rather small in comparison... (I'm a triple D, moving on up into an E soon.) Maybe she is. I don't know. But she's a very sweet, if not a little interesting. However, perhaps it's this whole kiss-withdrawral syndrome thing...
Speaking of Syndromes, does anyone else have the problem when they'll go to say an acronym, and they mix up the letters? For example, in my A&P class today, someone asked what SARS stood for. The teacher replied "That Asian flu thing, right?" Now, before you get on him for being a racist... well, okay, he is a racist. Anyway, I piped up with "Sudden Asian Respiratory Disease"- forgetting of course, that SARS is spelled with an S and not a D at the end. I quickly stuttered out "I mean, Syndrome." But by that point, it had instilled doubt into their minds (otherwise, I'm nearly positive they would have believed me. I can't believe how much stuff I can make up in that class. =])
Oh, and on the subject of flu- just so everyone's clear, yes, I did have h1n1, and no, it wasn't that bad. I'm still alive... unfortunately.
Anyway, on that happy note, I'm off to bed. Mmmmm, sleep. I haven't slept in ages... almost two hours now! Horrors! Goodnight, faithful readers... who never comment?
So... If I don't have it, I'm not sure what this is. But yeah. I think I might.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Relient K and the Teenage Christian Lesbian
So, this is an amazing little thing I found while looking for icons for my inspiration album for the month, "Forget and Not Slow Down", by Relient K. Though I've been a Relient K fan for around a year now, I've recently fallen in love with them all over again when I came across their wonderful new album in a Christian bookstore. It was a pleasant suprise that this album was even more Christian than the past few, without being preachy and obnoxious, as some can be, honestly.
The title song, "Forget and Not Slow Down"(lyrics in the graphic above), pretty much sums up what I want to be right now. I've been pretty self-pitying the past couple days. Who am I kidding? I've been a total bitch the past three weeks.
I'm sorry. I love you all. I'll do better. I promise you.
Because honestly, you all deserve medals for perseverence & patience for putting up with all of my ridiculousness.
Anyway... This song is mostly talking about putting the past behind you, and new beginnings.
No matter who I was in the past- a mean person, massive depressive, a self-injurer, manipulative, submissive and permissive in relationships, and all around negative- that doesn't mean that I have to be that person for the rest of my life. I'm allowed to change. Just because I'm a teenage Christian lesbian doesn't mean that I'm bad- just different. And you know, I'm pretty sure God still loves me. 'Cause, you know, that would be pretty hypocritical for him not to be.
On the subject of Teenage Christian Lesbians... Am I the only one? I wonder sometimes, how many other lesbians manage to keep the faith going. Are there support groups? "Christian Lesbians Anonymous"? "Dykes for Christ"? "I kissed a girl, and Jesus loves me anyway."?
If you're out there, reading this, I've got to say, you've kept rather quiet, darlings.
PS: Just thought I should add, in case she's reading this... Things have changed a little. I understand that I've stayed exactly the same, which probably isn't a good thing for you.
I just want you to know... My offer still stands.
I don't want to be the man in your life.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Song, Written June 26, 2009
[I can't remember who this was about, and I don't think I titled it, but I came across it today. Here goes.]
You like when I ramble,
My opinions, my conditions.
I like you.
You like the way her hair sticks up
The way her eyes shine when she smiles
I like you.
You like the sunsets, the way the water hums
and watching buildings blaze to the ground.
You can like it all-
But I like you.
And no matter how often I say it
I can't seem to convey it
the way I feel about you is unusual at least.
And when you laugh I feel my heart smile,
Because I know that for a little while,
I fixed the girl who sees the sky in pieces of gray-
and for awhile, I pretend that it's all going to be-okay.
You like his boylashes and his goofy grin
and I can't help but say again
I like you.
You like staying up til dawn
and sleeping in til noon,
I like my sleep-
But I like you.
You like dancing solo,
And you like living alone,
but I like you.
And no matter how often I say it
I can't seem to convey it
the way I feel about you is unusual at least.
And that frown makes me crumble
And my hopes start to tumble, because I hoped
I fixed the girl who sees the sky in pieces of gray-
and for awhile, I could pretend that it was all okay.
There are a million things that I could say
I like in some odd sort of way,
but each one would be a lie
because despite all you try-
I like you, and I'll like you in the morning,
in the evening, in the afternoon.
I like you daytimes and nighttimes
and pretty soon,
We'll be a memory, a past that we can't share.
I liked you... I'll like you anywhere.
You like when I ramble,
My opinions, my conditions.
I like you.
You like the way her hair sticks up
The way her eyes shine when she smiles
I like you.
You like the sunsets, the way the water hums
and watching buildings blaze to the ground.
You can like it all-
But I like you.
And no matter how often I say it
I can't seem to convey it
the way I feel about you is unusual at least.
And when you laugh I feel my heart smile,
Because I know that for a little while,
I fixed the girl who sees the sky in pieces of gray-
and for awhile, I pretend that it's all going to be-okay.
You like his boylashes and his goofy grin
and I can't help but say again
I like you.
You like staying up til dawn
and sleeping in til noon,
I like my sleep-
But I like you.
You like dancing solo,
And you like living alone,
but I like you.
And no matter how often I say it
I can't seem to convey it
the way I feel about you is unusual at least.
And that frown makes me crumble
And my hopes start to tumble, because I hoped
I fixed the girl who sees the sky in pieces of gray-
and for awhile, I could pretend that it was all okay.
There are a million things that I could say
I like in some odd sort of way,
but each one would be a lie
because despite all you try-
I like you, and I'll like you in the morning,
in the evening, in the afternoon.
I like you daytimes and nighttimes
and pretty soon,
We'll be a memory, a past that we can't share.
I liked you... I'll like you anywhere.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Reliable...
This word tends to make me think of things like refrigerators and trucks- they may not be new, but they're reliable, and they never give up on you.
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Like this one:
Now, you might be thinking "Oh MY GOD, that is the ugliest refrigerator I have ever fucking seen. Ever.
Well, you're right. But my point is not it's looks.
I wish that my friends were all really ugly refrigerators.
That's a terrible thing to say, I know, but think about it this way: You have a choice between two refrigerators- a beautiful, shiny, high tech newbie, and an old, steady clunker.
Which would you really prefer? Something new and easily breakable and confusing, or something that's stood by you through exes and old pizza and your vegan phase?
I'd pick the latter.
So if you'd go for your sturdy bestie, lets bind together and make a change. Lets be the world's antiques, because we are made to last, and way more amazing than anything Apple can imagine.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Mothers, Be Good To Your Daughters, too...
Do you remember that day when we went to the zoo, Mom? When the sun was shining down on us, and you chaperoned my group, and we watched the fish? You bought me a stuffed animal, and told me that you wanted me to remember it forever. I remember. There were lots of choices, but I picked the kangaroo with her joey tucked into her pouch, because I wanted it to be you and I- me tucked against you.
Do you remember when I was eight, and you thought I was going to start my period early, so you told me all about it, and gave me “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.” I started watching right then, and by the time I was twelve, I started to wonder if I was a man, because I had no distinguishable breasts and I wasn’t bleeding. I was so relieved that I was a girl when it finally came that I cried, all alone in my bedroom that night. You don’t remember, but I do.
Do you remember when I was thirteen, and you had to pick me up at school because they asked me to leave, and we went and got pizza and ice cream before you booked me an appointment with the therapist, under the agreement that I wouldn’t “pretend to have problems” anymore? She thought I was the most intelligent child ever to come in her office, but we both knew that I was smarter than I let on.
Do you remember when I was fourteen, and you found out that I had kissed that girl from church? You threatened her with a lawsuit, and said she couldn’t come over anymore, and I didn’t understand how my mom could have suddenly become so mean. Back then, I thought girls who wore pink were the worst thing in the world, and when you threatened me with a one, I started seeing boys again.
Do you remember when those boys decided that my hand wasn’t enough to hold, and you got another call from the school? Heavy sweaters that had no zips became my uniform, and you wondered why I hated the low cut tops you thought would suit me or dated the boys who carried instrument cases and makeup bags.
Do you remember when we went on diets together, and I lost weight? We went shopping, just the two of us, and you talked about what we could buy if I was just a little thinner, just a little taller. I wondered if I’d ever be pretty enough to find a boy that liked me for my personality, and made you happy, so you didn’t have to make fun of me anymore.
Do you remember when I was happy, Mom? Before homework replaced watching television with you and my cell phone took silly text messages instead of business calls; do you remember when I would make dolls and line them up on the kitchen counters, all smiling and bright blue eyes- soft ones that looked like me, and sharp ones that looked like you?
Do you remember when I was sixteen, and I realized that I couldn’t be the daughter you wanted me to be? Do you remember how you wondered how I could be so mean to you? Do you remember how my moods changed faster than lightning strikes- my calculated words falling away to reveal aggravation and contempt?
Do you remember when I was three, and you told me I would always be your favorite little girl, no matter what?
I remember Mom. I remember.
Do you remember when I was eight, and you thought I was going to start my period early, so you told me all about it, and gave me “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.” I started watching right then, and by the time I was twelve, I started to wonder if I was a man, because I had no distinguishable breasts and I wasn’t bleeding. I was so relieved that I was a girl when it finally came that I cried, all alone in my bedroom that night. You don’t remember, but I do.
Do you remember when I was thirteen, and you had to pick me up at school because they asked me to leave, and we went and got pizza and ice cream before you booked me an appointment with the therapist, under the agreement that I wouldn’t “pretend to have problems” anymore? She thought I was the most intelligent child ever to come in her office, but we both knew that I was smarter than I let on.
Do you remember when I was fourteen, and you found out that I had kissed that girl from church? You threatened her with a lawsuit, and said she couldn’t come over anymore, and I didn’t understand how my mom could have suddenly become so mean. Back then, I thought girls who wore pink were the worst thing in the world, and when you threatened me with a one, I started seeing boys again.
Do you remember when those boys decided that my hand wasn’t enough to hold, and you got another call from the school? Heavy sweaters that had no zips became my uniform, and you wondered why I hated the low cut tops you thought would suit me or dated the boys who carried instrument cases and makeup bags.
Do you remember when we went on diets together, and I lost weight? We went shopping, just the two of us, and you talked about what we could buy if I was just a little thinner, just a little taller. I wondered if I’d ever be pretty enough to find a boy that liked me for my personality, and made you happy, so you didn’t have to make fun of me anymore.
Do you remember when I was happy, Mom? Before homework replaced watching television with you and my cell phone took silly text messages instead of business calls; do you remember when I would make dolls and line them up on the kitchen counters, all smiling and bright blue eyes- soft ones that looked like me, and sharp ones that looked like you?
Do you remember when I was sixteen, and I realized that I couldn’t be the daughter you wanted me to be? Do you remember how you wondered how I could be so mean to you? Do you remember how my moods changed faster than lightning strikes- my calculated words falling away to reveal aggravation and contempt?
Do you remember when I was three, and you told me I would always be your favorite little girl, no matter what?
I remember Mom. I remember.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Hypocrisy & Insecurity
Hypocrisy.
It's been on my mind a lot today. Last night, a friend of mine came out to me. It really upset me.
Now, I can hear what you're saying. "She, self proclaimed Dyke-in-the-Box, was pissed because someone came out of the closet? What a hypocrite."
Well, yeah. But I'm not the only one.
Notice that I say "friend". Its rare that I have just "friends". I'm sure you've noticed- I have loves of my life, I have best friends, I have close friends. Few "friends".
What, you ask, demoted this girl to friend?
A few weeks ago, I decided to come out to her. I was ready for her to know. I was ready to tell someone who wasn't anonymous, who doesn't know everything about me. Her response was thus: "You're not trying to tell me you're bi, right? I have way too many friends who are bi. I don't need another one."
My response? "No, I'm definately not bi. :) Hey, I've got stuff to do. Bye!"
I'm a wimp. I know. So when she texted me last night, asking for acceptance and love... I gave it.
I still love and care for her. She's an amazing kid- I've had a crush on her for a couple months now, actually. Not enough to toss away our friendship to tell her I like her, but you know... I wouldn't say no to a movie. ;)
Anyway. Back to the point. She's great. But it really hurt that she wants me to accept her when she can't accept me.
It's been on my mind a lot today. Last night, a friend of mine came out to me. It really upset me.
Now, I can hear what you're saying. "She, self proclaimed Dyke-in-the-Box, was pissed because someone came out of the closet? What a hypocrite."
Well, yeah. But I'm not the only one.
Notice that I say "friend". Its rare that I have just "friends". I'm sure you've noticed- I have loves of my life, I have best friends, I have close friends. Few "friends".
What, you ask, demoted this girl to friend?
A few weeks ago, I decided to come out to her. I was ready for her to know. I was ready to tell someone who wasn't anonymous, who doesn't know everything about me. Her response was thus: "You're not trying to tell me you're bi, right? I have way too many friends who are bi. I don't need another one."
My response? "No, I'm definately not bi. :) Hey, I've got stuff to do. Bye!"
I'm a wimp. I know. So when she texted me last night, asking for acceptance and love... I gave it.
I still love and care for her. She's an amazing kid- I've had a crush on her for a couple months now, actually. Not enough to toss away our friendship to tell her I like her, but you know... I wouldn't say no to a movie. ;)
Anyway. Back to the point. She's great. But it really hurt that she wants me to accept her when she can't accept me.
Monday, September 14, 2009
The Dream (Fiction)
I'm officially a terrible person. Everyone has their motives, and mine were pure enough to start, I suppose, but there's a line where wrong and right are divided, and I have firmly crossed into the wrong.
The trouble stemmed from two distinct problems. The first being that my mother has always had migraines- intense migraines. The type that for all purposes paralyze her with pain and nausea. The second is my intense hatred of the beach. These two made me the obvious choice to go and purchase medication from one of the boardwalk shops.
Now, despite my hatred of the beach, I adore boardwalk shops. Being unfamiliar with this beach gave me the excuse of heading into a variety of places in search of some Advil- Advil specifically. "Don't bring me that ibuprofen crap. I want real Advil." she had thrown at me as I walked up the sand.
Dollar stores have always been one of my favorites. This one was dingy, with bad, beach lighting and racks too close together. The floor was grimy, and cases of soda with store-brand knockoff names like "Fantasia" and "Mr. Pep" were stacked underneath cat clocks and bottles of sand. A quick scan told me that there was no medicine section- I hadn't had much hope, but the flickering "Dollar D nes" sign out front had drawn me in. It's 'n' seemed to have been long blacked out with the beer bottle still nestled into the space, but the other letters clung to life. As I joined the queue to pay for my can of Coo-coo Cola, the man in front of me realized he'd lost his wallet. The baby in his arms gurgled and smiled as he juggled her to find his billfold. Finally he turned to me. "Can you watch her for a few minutes? I'd take her with me, but I'll go much faster on my own..." For whatever reason, I nodded, holding out my arms to receive her. Her soft red hair reminded me of peaches, and she smelled sweet. As we stood, she pointed at objects, making nonsense words that came close to the names. "Ca!" "San!" "Fana!" Time passed, and I was wondering if the man would ever return. When he finally did, my mission returned to me. Advil.
My phone began to buzz against my thigh. The screen read 'Jessica'. My ex. What could she want? The message itself seemed nonsense- "A lotus grows in mud. The deeper the mud, the more beautiful the flower. You are standing in mud- though you look nothing like a lotus." I brushed it off- her nastiness was commonplace. I began to walk with a nasty squelch. Mud had seeped into my sandals. I turned around, and saw her. She was beautiful as ever, with her long brown hair loose to the wind. I'd never seen her in a bikini before, but it suited her, her pale flat stomach accented by the harsh black. "Hey there, stranger." she said coolly, whipping around with sunglasses in hand. "Have the squirrels been treating you well?" On the subject of my ex- she is unusual. Most would say insane. She always dresses in black, always talks about strange and random things, always gets angry at the slightest comment. Like a fire- that's Jessica, or as she always insisted I call her, Z. "Yeah." I mumbled. "I gotta get some Advil. Mom's head, you know?" I walked away, and she skipped to catch up. "Look, I know them. You gotta meet. College friends!" She pointed ahead to a dark haired boy and a bleached blonde with abnormally pointed breasts. She pulled me over. "Garrett, this is my ex. This is... Do I know you?" she said nastily to the blonde, flipping her hair back. "I'm-" the girl started, but Zara was too quick. "Fabulous. Well, we've got to be going now. Bye!" she said, dragging me into a CVS. "Find your medicine." She barked. It was just like old times, really. She gave the orders, and I followed them without question. I wandered about, finding only a 500 count bottle- which with beach prices, was twenty-six seventy five. I turned it over in my hands. With the soda money, Mom had given me twenty- not nearly enough. My phone began ringing- this time a call. "I just stabbed the girl in aisle twelve. Lets go." Flip flops pounding on the tile, she came hurtling towards me. I turned to leave with her. A glance over my shoulder showed Z being grabbed by a pimply cashier wearing a smock and an aged pharmacist with blue hair. She didn't seem upset- she laughed, anyway, and didn't fight as they held her against a display of cough syrup.
As I fell into the sand by my mother, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd done the wrong thing. There were many ways I could have changed the situation. I could have walked away from her on the boardwalk. I could have refused to follow her orders. I could have probably saved the girl in the drugstore. I could have fought for Z. I could have done a lot of things different.
I didn't pay for the Advil. I walked out of the store- sirens blaring and lights flashing as the cop cars pulled up to take her into custody. I wonder if it says something about my ethics that I didn't flinch. I only wondered if Mom could see the flashing lights on the water the way I could- their beautiful reflections reminding me of the pictures they showed us in school of the Aurora Borealis- and if she could, would she recognize that I'd been feet away from a murder.
More importantly- would she realize that it had been my ex that had committed it?
Its sad that in the case of being an accessory to murder, my biggest worry was that my mother would find out I am a lesbian.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Tonight
Tonight has been one of the worst nights I've had in awhile.
I don't think I've ever been this hurt by someone.
I've come up with a whole collection of novel ways to hurt myself to cover the pain of her, such as scrubbing my face with alcohol pads (now raw).
My chest feels numb, like a stuffy nose.
My nose, on the other hand, is running like a faucet from all the crying.
My stomach is knotted and making sick, gurgling sounds, like it wants me to eat, but I can't think of anything I want to touch- food would be disgusting.
My skin all hurts and itches, and I just want to cut it all off- though I've realized that I've lost all feeling almost everywhere, because I suddenly looked down and realized my leg was bleeding- guess I walked into something. Don't really care.
I just want to stay in bed and never get up.
Fuck, I have to work tomorrow.
Great.
So my options seem to be kill myself or drown in this depression and die anyway.
I feel disgusting.
Why did I ever think someone as great as her would think twice about someone like me?
Someday, its going to hit me that I might not want her initials scarred into my skin, but right now, I feel like if I were allowed, I'd carve her full name- all fifteen letters and two spaces of it- into my most sensitive skin in caligraphy with a dull spoon.
Tomorrow, I'll work on being okay. Tonight... I just need to sleep and cry.
I don't think I've ever been this hurt by someone.
I've come up with a whole collection of novel ways to hurt myself to cover the pain of her, such as scrubbing my face with alcohol pads (now raw).
My chest feels numb, like a stuffy nose.
My nose, on the other hand, is running like a faucet from all the crying.
My stomach is knotted and making sick, gurgling sounds, like it wants me to eat, but I can't think of anything I want to touch- food would be disgusting.
My skin all hurts and itches, and I just want to cut it all off- though I've realized that I've lost all feeling almost everywhere, because I suddenly looked down and realized my leg was bleeding- guess I walked into something. Don't really care.
I just want to stay in bed and never get up.
Fuck, I have to work tomorrow.
Great.
So my options seem to be kill myself or drown in this depression and die anyway.
I feel disgusting.
Why did I ever think someone as great as her would think twice about someone like me?
Someday, its going to hit me that I might not want her initials scarred into my skin, but right now, I feel like if I were allowed, I'd carve her full name- all fifteen letters and two spaces of it- into my most sensitive skin in caligraphy with a dull spoon.
Tomorrow, I'll work on being okay. Tonight... I just need to sleep and cry.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Changes.
Things have changed since I started this blog.
I'm single. Have been for a few months- just never published it. Being disaster's bitch has taken on a new meaning for me now- disaster seems to rule my life, more so than Zara ever did. I'm still a lesbian, but if I was in the closet before, I'm in a box in the closet now. I like it in here, most of the time... except, how many in-the-closet lesbians can find an interesting, eloquent, intelligent girlfriend who likes them back and wants a little house on the outskirts of a city with two gray kittens and black curtains?
Question: Why are girls so complicated?
My answer to myself: Girls are complicated for the same reason I am. Do I like it when other people expect me to be normal and sane? Obviously not... I'm talking to myself.
Question: Why not? I hear lots of perfectly sane people talk to themselves. Its like a commonplace thing nowadays.
My answer to myself: Commonplace or not, its still the first sign of insanity.
Question: Do you suffer from insanity?
My answer to myself: No... I enjoy every minute of it.
No, in all seriousness... Why are girls so complicated?
Here's my theory: we're complicated because we don't want anyone to understand us. We like that enigmatic feeling of being unknown. Not necessarily all the repercussions of being confusing- just the feeling of power that nobody will ever completely own us. Being confusing is our way of being our own person.
Next question... Why do girls drag us around?
I mean... I don't do it, do I? When I like someone, I commit. This is the girl I want to spend the rest of my life loving... at least until my heart becomes broken and I hate her guts. Is that wrong of me?
I mean... Its not like I have all that much to offer. I'm not that pretty and I can be a total freak sometimes. But I'm loyal and I have enough love to fuel a harem. I want my girlfriend to be happy- even if its without me.
However, right now, I'm on the rampage. The girl I love (that's right L-O-V-E) isn't ever going to like (that's L-I-K-E) me enough to take me seriously, even though I could take much better care of her and love her more than any of her one-week flings. Someday, though, she'll come to her senses. Maybe?
Or maybe you know, I'll end up with the same fucking broken heart I've had all along.
I'm single. Have been for a few months- just never published it. Being disaster's bitch has taken on a new meaning for me now- disaster seems to rule my life, more so than Zara ever did. I'm still a lesbian, but if I was in the closet before, I'm in a box in the closet now. I like it in here, most of the time... except, how many in-the-closet lesbians can find an interesting, eloquent, intelligent girlfriend who likes them back and wants a little house on the outskirts of a city with two gray kittens and black curtains?
Question: Why are girls so complicated?
My answer to myself: Girls are complicated for the same reason I am. Do I like it when other people expect me to be normal and sane? Obviously not... I'm talking to myself.
Question: Why not? I hear lots of perfectly sane people talk to themselves. Its like a commonplace thing nowadays.
My answer to myself: Commonplace or not, its still the first sign of insanity.
Question: Do you suffer from insanity?
My answer to myself: No... I enjoy every minute of it.
No, in all seriousness... Why are girls so complicated?
Here's my theory: we're complicated because we don't want anyone to understand us. We like that enigmatic feeling of being unknown. Not necessarily all the repercussions of being confusing- just the feeling of power that nobody will ever completely own us. Being confusing is our way of being our own person.
Next question... Why do girls drag us around?
I mean... I don't do it, do I? When I like someone, I commit. This is the girl I want to spend the rest of my life loving... at least until my heart becomes broken and I hate her guts. Is that wrong of me?
I mean... Its not like I have all that much to offer. I'm not that pretty and I can be a total freak sometimes. But I'm loyal and I have enough love to fuel a harem. I want my girlfriend to be happy- even if its without me.
However, right now, I'm on the rampage. The girl I love (that's right L-O-V-E) isn't ever going to like (that's L-I-K-E) me enough to take me seriously, even though I could take much better care of her and love her more than any of her one-week flings. Someday, though, she'll come to her senses. Maybe?
Or maybe you know, I'll end up with the same fucking broken heart I've had all along.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Confessions of a Freak
So I've decided to confess all the horrible things that I secretly adore which as a freakish goth lesbian I shouldn't.
1. Books/Movies about cheerleaders.
2. Love notes.
3. Romantic comedies.
4. Cuddling with my best girl mates (in a nonsexual way).
5. Pop bands of the nineties.
6. Food. Food. Food.
7. Sweaters.
8. High heels. *shivers* I adore them.
9. Quilting.
Is it weird that I like stupid things?
1. Books/Movies about cheerleaders.
2. Love notes.
3. Romantic comedies.
4. Cuddling with my best girl mates (in a nonsexual way).
5. Pop bands of the nineties.
6. Food. Food. Food.
7. Sweaters.
8. High heels. *shivers* I adore them.
9. Quilting.
Is it weird that I like stupid things?
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Books I Want To Read(But Don't Have Access To or Would Be Embarassed to Ask For):
1. Lolita
2. The Wives of Bath
3. The Full Spectrum
4. Tomorrow Wendy
5. Sugar Rush
6. Empress of the World
7. Keeping You a Secret
Silly, right?
2. The Wives of Bath
3. The Full Spectrum
4. Tomorrow Wendy
5. Sugar Rush
6. Empress of the World
7. Keeping You a Secret
Silly, right?
I so hate consequences, running from you is what my best defense is.
I'm realizing just how much my secrets are beginning to hurt me.
Isn't it hilarious that I used to feel alone when I had everyone I cared about, and now that I've lost them, I've become too numb to truly miss them? *laughs a little*
So far, I have two teachers seriously worried about me... Apparently I "haven't been myself" the past few days. I've become a lot quieter. A lot more studious, I think. I haven't had the "distractions" I usually have, so its been good, I guess, for my grades.
It seems as though I've just given up the things I believe in. Its great. :) All I need now to give up on grades... then I can focus on... nothing? Idk. *shrugs*
I had a serious thought today. I think I'd like to be a librarian. Like... Not a librarian as a side job, a library sciences specialist. I'd be a good librarian. I wouldn't bitch out the kids. I like systems- especially alphabetizing. :) And I'd get to be around BOOKS. Plus, I have the glasses. I also like the idea of getting to read for a living... I know "Media Specialists" get paid for that. And why are the librarians so bitchy anyway? Its not like they actually get in trouble for the kids looking up email on the internet. *sighs* I'd hate being a teacher, cuz I care too much about other's opinions, but a librarian... *sighs happily*
Just a stupid fantasy though. My mom would hate the idea.
Isn't it hilarious that I used to feel alone when I had everyone I cared about, and now that I've lost them, I've become too numb to truly miss them? *laughs a little*
So far, I have two teachers seriously worried about me... Apparently I "haven't been myself" the past few days. I've become a lot quieter. A lot more studious, I think. I haven't had the "distractions" I usually have, so its been good, I guess, for my grades.
It seems as though I've just given up the things I believe in. Its great. :) All I need now to give up on grades... then I can focus on... nothing? Idk. *shrugs*
I had a serious thought today. I think I'd like to be a librarian. Like... Not a librarian as a side job, a library sciences specialist. I'd be a good librarian. I wouldn't bitch out the kids. I like systems- especially alphabetizing. :) And I'd get to be around BOOKS. Plus, I have the glasses. I also like the idea of getting to read for a living... I know "Media Specialists" get paid for that. And why are the librarians so bitchy anyway? Its not like they actually get in trouble for the kids looking up email on the internet. *sighs* I'd hate being a teacher, cuz I care too much about other's opinions, but a librarian... *sighs happily*
Just a stupid fantasy though. My mom would hate the idea.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
So I'm fickle and obsessive...
Its been forever since I've posted. Yes, I know. Sue me.
I kind of had to write today. Just found out that Bekah won't be online anymore. So... great.
I really just feel like crying, but you know, its not going to make it any better.
Its probably not helping that EA is playing in the background, but somehow, I always find myself attracted to EA when I'm missing Rebexika. My stupidity, I suppose. *laughs*
I suppose I'll wait til Rence or Zara returns to discuss the situation, but until then, I will melt into a puddle of soppy Bitch.
Currently playing:
"I want my innocence back..."
Is that wrong of me? My feelings can be expressed best on this subject through the use of another lyric:
"It hasn't always been this way. I remember brighter days. Before the dark ones came, stole my mind, wrapped my soul in flames."
My soul is wrapped in flames often these days. I feel as though I am bound by the rules of my engagements, the rules of my friendships, rules of my relationships.
I wish I didn't.
*sighs* Must be off. I plan to clean up this trash heap tonight.
I kind of had to write today. Just found out that Bekah won't be online anymore. So... great.
I really just feel like crying, but you know, its not going to make it any better.
Its probably not helping that EA is playing in the background, but somehow, I always find myself attracted to EA when I'm missing Rebexika. My stupidity, I suppose. *laughs*
I suppose I'll wait til Rence or Zara returns to discuss the situation, but until then, I will melt into a puddle of soppy Bitch.
Currently playing:
"I want my innocence back..."
Is that wrong of me? My feelings can be expressed best on this subject through the use of another lyric:
"It hasn't always been this way. I remember brighter days. Before the dark ones came, stole my mind, wrapped my soul in flames."
My soul is wrapped in flames often these days. I feel as though I am bound by the rules of my engagements, the rules of my friendships, rules of my relationships.
I wish I didn't.
*sighs* Must be off. I plan to clean up this trash heap tonight.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
*Jealousy*
Oooh. This word's been popping up in my head more and more lately.
I don't like to admit it, but I am a very jealous person.
I constantly wish people liked me better than other people. Even if I know I'm not the person's best friend, I kind of wish I'd get picked over others. I have this craving for that. To be the best.
It bothers me when other people are picked over me as well.
I think I like it mostly because it means that they would fight for me.
And the idea of being fought for... well, that's just attractive on a whole other level.
What, you might ask, provoked my "jealous" rant?
I realised today just how jealous my beautiful, sexy, horrifyingly incredible girlfriend is. Which honestly, makes me feel incredibly cared for. ^_^
Peace, Sweethearts!
~disasters.bitch~
I don't like to admit it, but I am a very jealous person.
I constantly wish people liked me better than other people. Even if I know I'm not the person's best friend, I kind of wish I'd get picked over others. I have this craving for that. To be the best.
It bothers me when other people are picked over me as well.
I think I like it mostly because it means that they would fight for me.
And the idea of being fought for... well, that's just attractive on a whole other level.
What, you might ask, provoked my "jealous" rant?
I realised today just how jealous my beautiful, sexy, horrifyingly incredible girlfriend is. Which honestly, makes me feel incredibly cared for. ^_^
Peace, Sweethearts!
~disasters.bitch~
Saturday, January 3, 2009
White Velvet
My best friend told me that last year. Apparently, her mother told her, which led her to, giggling her head off, tell it to me later.
I've been running it through my head a lot these past few days. Its slowly sunken in, swirling about in my dark mind, and I've come to a few conclusions about it.
Even angels lie sometimes. ;)
Talk to you later! Peace.
~disasters.bitch~
I've been running it through my head a lot these past few days. Its slowly sunken in, swirling about in my dark mind, and I've come to a few conclusions about it.
- Girls are like white velvet. Generally, we are stereotyped to be the cleaner sex... How often do you see a guy who gets picked on for smelling weird? How often for a girl? Girls are usually softer too... just in my experience.
- Why are girls the ones who get ostracized for being touched? If a boy gets touched, he's a hero. >.<
- When you touch white velvet, it doesn't always get dirty the first time. So I think a girl must be allowed to be touched a few times before this starts to really set in.Unless of course, you, like a girl at my school, allow the first time to be in the school's baseball dugout, and come to school with the evidence in your hair...
Even angels lie sometimes. ;)
Talk to you later! Peace.
~disasters.bitch~
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