I haven’t written here in a long time. Not for lack of inspiration or anything. More like general laziness. I can’t say that’s all going to change because that would probably be a lie. Strike that it would be a lie.
I don’t want to turn this into some sort of “Dear Diary” thing. If I really wanted that kind of confessional I’d become Catholic or actually use the damn journal I have. No, what I think I will do is…okay so I don’t have a legitimate plan. Heartbreaking, I know. For right now the best I can come up with is a stream of consciousness rant that is slightly different from a frilly diary; it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump away from a diary but I think it’s the hop that makes it important.
I’m in one of my melancholy moods. No trigger that I can put my finger on (Wow I just realized how bad of a pun that was, and completely unintentional too). I mean school is boring. I’ve pretty much mentally checked-out already. As far as school is concerned my junior year is almost over. I don’t feel particularly inclined to savor it either. Yet, what I do want to savor are my senior friends. It always seems that I meet the best ones before they graduate. And then I feel this HUGE loss because I just met them and never got a chance to really know them when I could have had three more years with them. Lost opportunities and such.
What’s really got me down is my relationship or lack thereof to me more specific. See, I pretty much gave my heart away a while back. It was a terribly stupid thing to do since he was…oh there are so many good adjectives to describe him. Uncaring. Cocky. Selfish. Rude. Horrible. Wandering. And so much more. Point is it was a mistake. I read somewhere that teenagers fall in love, really in love, for the first time when they’re seventeen or eighteen. Well ring-a-ding-ding I just pulled that pile of crap from the Cracker Jack box. What I’m afraid of is that what I had with this guy was love, because that’s what my idiotic heart keeps telling me. And I had all these happy notions of love. Notions he decided to put his cigarette out in. I see him on rare occasions in the halls and it hurts. I don’t handle pain well.
So I keep dwelling on all of this. The pain, the heartache, the loss, and it just overwhelms me. It keeps building on itself and I just let it. Add a dash of self-loathing for the lot of it, and PRESTO, insta-melancholy mood. Yum.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Chivalry and All That Jazz
Chivalry a’int dead; it’s just on life support. And I’m sitting here staring at this white knight, trying to decide weather or not I want to pull the plug. How did the white knight end up on life support you may ask? Well I couldn’t say for sure but if I had to take a guess, I’d say he was: bludgeoned by a wife beater; attacked by a drug addict (‘cause he tried to do the right thing by taking away the addict’s crack); shot by a completely unrelated drive-by shooting; and, kneed in the balls by a rampant feminist. But that’s just a guess.
Still, every once in awhile chivalry rears its handsome head. And it totally freaks me out! More from shock than disparagement, but still. I mean the man is supposed to be in a coma here, not pop up and open the door for me. It’s just completely unexpected. Yet, still pleasant. Like the other day, at school, some guy I don’t even know opened the door for me. Not a knock me over with a feather moment or anything, just enough to put a chagrined smile on my face. Another time one of my guy-friends took my hand in a gentlemanly way and kissed my knuckles. I had to seriously fight the urge to check his temperature. But the most recent cavalcade of chivalry in my life is my mother’s boyfriend. Overall, I approve of him; he’s nice. He’s total old school about some things though. Like, he pulls out our chairs and seats us at even the most casual of dinners, and he stands whenever either my mom or I stand up when we’re eating. The first time that happened I froze like the freakin deer in the headlights because I didn’t realize what he was doing. It’s nice and sweet from the daughter perspective, but I know if a boyfriend of mine did that I’d probably freak out.
Thing is, I was raised in a feminist house. So I’ve got this little voice in my head caterwauling about all the things I should do for myself. Like the last time a date offered to pay I couldn’t wrap my brain around the concept of someone else paying for me. It just seemed unfair. On one hand it’s a great gesture, but on the other I feel really awkward and almost greedy. And I’ve never understood the whole walking each other to class thing. This lack of understanding doesn’t come from a feminist place though; it’s just me being a nerd. When I go to school my focus is most often class, and the whole idea of meandering through the halls with your honey, only to stop outside the classroom and linger through the bell thereby making the other person late as well, just boggles me. Of course that could also be my obsession with being on time kicking in again, but whatever. I mean, it’s sweet and sort of charming to see but I couldn’t put myself in a similar picture. But other than that, I like the idea of chivalry. So I end up telling the little feminist voice to shut up. Besides, the white knight’s kinda cute. It would be a total waste to pull the plug on that.
Still, every once in awhile chivalry rears its handsome head. And it totally freaks me out! More from shock than disparagement, but still. I mean the man is supposed to be in a coma here, not pop up and open the door for me. It’s just completely unexpected. Yet, still pleasant. Like the other day, at school, some guy I don’t even know opened the door for me. Not a knock me over with a feather moment or anything, just enough to put a chagrined smile on my face. Another time one of my guy-friends took my hand in a gentlemanly way and kissed my knuckles. I had to seriously fight the urge to check his temperature. But the most recent cavalcade of chivalry in my life is my mother’s boyfriend. Overall, I approve of him; he’s nice. He’s total old school about some things though. Like, he pulls out our chairs and seats us at even the most casual of dinners, and he stands whenever either my mom or I stand up when we’re eating. The first time that happened I froze like the freakin deer in the headlights because I didn’t realize what he was doing. It’s nice and sweet from the daughter perspective, but I know if a boyfriend of mine did that I’d probably freak out.
Thing is, I was raised in a feminist house. So I’ve got this little voice in my head caterwauling about all the things I should do for myself. Like the last time a date offered to pay I couldn’t wrap my brain around the concept of someone else paying for me. It just seemed unfair. On one hand it’s a great gesture, but on the other I feel really awkward and almost greedy. And I’ve never understood the whole walking each other to class thing. This lack of understanding doesn’t come from a feminist place though; it’s just me being a nerd. When I go to school my focus is most often class, and the whole idea of meandering through the halls with your honey, only to stop outside the classroom and linger through the bell thereby making the other person late as well, just boggles me. Of course that could also be my obsession with being on time kicking in again, but whatever. I mean, it’s sweet and sort of charming to see but I couldn’t put myself in a similar picture. But other than that, I like the idea of chivalry. So I end up telling the little feminist voice to shut up. Besides, the white knight’s kinda cute. It would be a total waste to pull the plug on that.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Pieces, Pieces, Pieces
I am broken
And I can’t fix it
I shattered into pieces on the floor
And I’ve been picking them up
Trying to put it all back together again,
Which is hard because I wasn’t fully formed to begin with.
I have been putting the pieces in one big space
Like a million piece puzzle on a board.
One board for one puzzle—that’s how it goes.
But the puzzle never gets finished because there’s always a gap.
Too many pieces.
It’s like that for me too.
I have got a hole where the pieces I can’t find are supposed to go.
I’ve tried filling it with everything I can think of.
Clothesmoneymusicmoviesboysfriendssarcasmpictureslaughterdancing
Won’t fit.
But I really want it to.
I want to be whole again
Or at least some semblance of it.
God, why won’t any of it fit?
And I can’t fix it
I shattered into pieces on the floor
And I’ve been picking them up
Trying to put it all back together again,
Which is hard because I wasn’t fully formed to begin with.
I have been putting the pieces in one big space
Like a million piece puzzle on a board.
One board for one puzzle—that’s how it goes.
But the puzzle never gets finished because there’s always a gap.
Too many pieces.
It’s like that for me too.
I have got a hole where the pieces I can’t find are supposed to go.
I’ve tried filling it with everything I can think of.
Clothesmoneymusicmoviesboysfriendssarcasmpictureslaughterdancing
Won’t fit.
But I really want it to.
I want to be whole again
Or at least some semblance of it.
God, why won’t any of it fit?
Saturday, December 16, 2006
But I've Already Got My Two Front Teeth
I’m going through a phase where I’m listing everything. Or at least that’s what it looks like based on my last two blogs. I’m still in the midst of said phase so here would be this week’s list—My Christmas List if money (or reality) wasn’t a problem. Once again, no order.
1. A new iPod: one of the little buggers with a screen. Right now I have a shuffle, which is the size of my index finger. And if you know my hand size this is saying something. Plus the shuffle holds absolutely nothing.
2. A Mini Cooper: the exact opposite of my iPod complaints. I like the tiny car. It’s me sized. And in this day and age, the smaller the car the better the gas mileage. Which would be perfect. Oh, and I’d get it in some unusual color. And then I’d get barreled over by a SUV, but that’s life.
3. Shopping spree at Bebe: I always see the window displays for this store and I want it all. So then I go in there and pass out in a dead faint over the price tags on these clothes! It’s ridiculous how much these clothes cost! But they’re soooooooo pretty.
4. World Peace: Here’s where that reality bit comes into play—cause it ain’t gunna happen anytime soon. What brought this on is I’ve seen a couple of friends come home for the holidays on leave, and it just kills me to think of them going over to Iraq or Afghanistan. It just makes my chest hurt. Like a few weeks ago I saw my next-door neighbor come home in cameo and I freaked out—he had just joined the army. And shortly thereafter I found out my cousin wants to join the Air Force. I told him if he gets hurt I’d kill him. Perfect logic, I know. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got nothing but respect for the men and women in any branch of the armed forces, but I just don’t want my friends and family getting hurt.
5. That gun from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: the one where if you shoot someone they see your side of things. I know about a dozen people I would love to use that on.
6. Trip to U.K.: I want to see it all. It’s my dream trip—Scotland, Ireland, and England. I’ve always wanted to go. And when I say trip, I mean at least a week in each country. If the opportunity ever comes up, you’ll probably hear me screaming in joy, even if you happen to be in China.
7. A crown: Like Buckingham palace quality jewels. I’d just display that sucker and be like, “Oh, yeah, that’s my crown”. Okay so I’d wear it every once in awhile. I bet you’re wondering if I’m kidding.
8. Return to Italy and France: I’ve already been, but as my greedy list shows, I want more. I would spend a week in the Louvre alone. And I’d visit little cafes. And I could stroll as leisurely as I wanted. Oh God, and I’d return to Pompeii and walk the whole thing. And visit Venice before the darn thing sinks. And live off bread and chocolate. Ahhh bliss.
9. Have money in the bank: you know just so I’d be secure for life. So I guess as far as a gift goes, a winning lottery ticket would qualify.
10. Tickets to the PBR: All of them. All the events across the U.S. For those of you not in the know, the PBR stands for Proffesional Bull Riders. They come to St. Louis in February, and Mom and I always go. But I’d like to tour with it—keep up with who’s winning, and visit all the cities. The final competition is in Vegas, and that would be fun. This is probably one of my more random wishes.
There is no way I’m getting any of this for Christmas but it’s fun to say, “I wish…”
1. A new iPod: one of the little buggers with a screen. Right now I have a shuffle, which is the size of my index finger. And if you know my hand size this is saying something. Plus the shuffle holds absolutely nothing.
2. A Mini Cooper: the exact opposite of my iPod complaints. I like the tiny car. It’s me sized. And in this day and age, the smaller the car the better the gas mileage. Which would be perfect. Oh, and I’d get it in some unusual color. And then I’d get barreled over by a SUV, but that’s life.
3. Shopping spree at Bebe: I always see the window displays for this store and I want it all. So then I go in there and pass out in a dead faint over the price tags on these clothes! It’s ridiculous how much these clothes cost! But they’re soooooooo pretty.
4. World Peace: Here’s where that reality bit comes into play—cause it ain’t gunna happen anytime soon. What brought this on is I’ve seen a couple of friends come home for the holidays on leave, and it just kills me to think of them going over to Iraq or Afghanistan. It just makes my chest hurt. Like a few weeks ago I saw my next-door neighbor come home in cameo and I freaked out—he had just joined the army. And shortly thereafter I found out my cousin wants to join the Air Force. I told him if he gets hurt I’d kill him. Perfect logic, I know. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got nothing but respect for the men and women in any branch of the armed forces, but I just don’t want my friends and family getting hurt.
5. That gun from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: the one where if you shoot someone they see your side of things. I know about a dozen people I would love to use that on.
6. Trip to U.K.: I want to see it all. It’s my dream trip—Scotland, Ireland, and England. I’ve always wanted to go. And when I say trip, I mean at least a week in each country. If the opportunity ever comes up, you’ll probably hear me screaming in joy, even if you happen to be in China.
7. A crown: Like Buckingham palace quality jewels. I’d just display that sucker and be like, “Oh, yeah, that’s my crown”. Okay so I’d wear it every once in awhile. I bet you’re wondering if I’m kidding.
8. Return to Italy and France: I’ve already been, but as my greedy list shows, I want more. I would spend a week in the Louvre alone. And I’d visit little cafes. And I could stroll as leisurely as I wanted. Oh God, and I’d return to Pompeii and walk the whole thing. And visit Venice before the darn thing sinks. And live off bread and chocolate. Ahhh bliss.
9. Have money in the bank: you know just so I’d be secure for life. So I guess as far as a gift goes, a winning lottery ticket would qualify.
10. Tickets to the PBR: All of them. All the events across the U.S. For those of you not in the know, the PBR stands for Proffesional Bull Riders. They come to St. Louis in February, and Mom and I always go. But I’d like to tour with it—keep up with who’s winning, and visit all the cities. The final competition is in Vegas, and that would be fun. This is probably one of my more random wishes.
There is no way I’m getting any of this for Christmas but it’s fun to say, “I wish…”
Sunday, December 10, 2006
The 40 People I Can't Stand
Note: there is no order, they’re just coming to me at random. Some are ficticious but only because they really irk me. I will admit some of these are strange and unfounded, but that doesn’t change anything.
1. Britney Spears: I like her music, or at least I did when I was younger, but something about her personally bothers me. I can’t put my finger on what, but something does. I refer to her as the Princess of Purgatory, which for the sake of being linear brings me to…
2. Hilary Duff: Whom I call Spawn of Satan. Soon to take Britney’s place. But unlike Britney I can’t stand Duff’s music at all. It makes me want to puke. Either that or take a two-bit drill to my temple.
3. Hitler: Umm…duh.
4. Twiggy: I blame her for the whole anorexia crisis. I mean, before her people had a decent concept of body image—Marilyn Monroe—but now not so much.
5. Osama Bin Laden: Like Hitler I really don’t think this warrants an explanation.
6. Any President Who Has Interupted CSI For A Speech: this excludes speeches in crisis situatations but for the most part GAAAAHHHH!!!
7. James Earl Ray: how dare you.
8. Nero: smooth buddy. Burn Rome and play your freakin violin.
9. Ernesto Miranda: You’re an idiot. It really frosts my cookies to think that he got off for what he did because he didn’t know his rights. It’s his own fault. Our rights are available in every public library, and had the idiot ever attended school, he would have known them already because schools spell them out in black and white by making you learn them! I’ve gotten into some pretty intense debates over this in and out of classrooms. It’s never a good thing to bring up.
10. Jayne Fonda: Her treatment of troops during Vietnam was, and still is in my opinion, inexcusable. Well that and the work out videos.
11. Prissy: The slave girl from Gone With The Wind. The only thing that irked me was her voice. Sweet Jesus her voice grated on me. I seriously stuffed my head under a pillow to get away from that voice.
12. My ex-Girl Scout Leader: Anybody I actually know I’m not going to write their names down on the off chance they might read this. It’s slim, but still. I quit Girl Scouts in the sixth grade, because she wouldn’t let us dance and she wanted to have tea parties, and I thought I was far to mature for that.
13. Ricky Martin: No I will not shake my bon-bon stop asking!
14. Agamemnon: Dude, you sacrificed your daughter for wind.
15. Robin Leech: Appropriately named. Champagne wishes and caviar dreams. Right. His voice drove me nuts too.
16. My eighth grade math teacher: He yelled. A lot. I didn’t understand anything that man said civilly, and I’ve had problems with math ever since.
17. Tom Sawyer: Kid drove me nuts; I just wanted to shake him.
18. Ryan Seacrest: I have so many issues with this guy simply because he looks like Ken doll.
19. Edgar Allen Poe: This is going to sound strange but I don’t have any problem whatsoever with him. I’ve come to loathe him because in eighth grade we had to memorize The Raven and analyze some of his other works into the ground. I’m bitter about that, oh so bitter. So it’s not Poe’s fault. It’s really said English teacher’s fault, but Poe’s taking the fall for it. Sorry
20. Sisqo: Two words—Thong Song. What were you thinking?!?
21. Lord Capulet: Child abuse and forced marriage.
22. Flower: I have got some SERIOUS issues with the skunk from Bambi. I could go on for another thousand words about my problems with this thing, but I’ll spare you. Ack.
23. The Rabbit: Take the Trix and be gone!
24. Tom Cruise: I only like this man for however long it takes me to watch Top Gun, after that I don’t give a rip.
25. Michael Jackson after Thriller: He went down hill after Thriller. I know he’s got a lot of die-hard fans and that’s great but I just can’t support him. Too much plastic surgery, obnoxious voice, and the disturbing accusations.
26. Joan Rivers: My reasons are very similar to the above except she didn’t do the whole child molestation thing.
27. Severus Snape: You killed Dumbledore! You killed Dumbledore!
28. Thoreau: I liked Civil Disobedience and agreed with what he said. But he lost me during Walden when he attacked material possessions—specifically clothes. I’m very materialistic, and I understand why this is bad, but come on!
29. Movie Critics: They always seem to pick on my favorite films. That makes them bad bad people.
30. Whoever created unreal numbers: did you have to make my life more complicated?
31. Gwyneth Paltrow: simpering wench.
32. Donald Duck: I don’t even know why.
33. The Pioneers: I’ve got school spirit.
34. Kafka: Metamorphosis
35. Rabbit: you know, from Winnie the Pooh? Yeah something crawled up his butt and died cause he was way too cranky 24/7.
36. John Smith: Right, like the Disney movie really worked out that way. Argh. I know how it ended for the Indians.
37. Roger Chillingworth: Scary man. Obsess much? And followed closely by…
38. Pearl: Child is creepy. I hope to never have a child like this! I know Hawthorne was supposed to have tried to paint her in a positive light but she sounds like a demon.
39. Scarlet O’Hara: She was stupid. Shame on womanhood, shame! Nice accent though.
40. Gene: From A Separate Peace; what a jerk. Poor Phineas.
Okay, I’m done for now; it’s getting late. Maybe later I’ll round this off to one hundred. I’m sure I’ll think of some as soon as I get off the computer, Murphy’s Law…
41. Murphy: sadistic bastard.
1. Britney Spears: I like her music, or at least I did when I was younger, but something about her personally bothers me. I can’t put my finger on what, but something does. I refer to her as the Princess of Purgatory, which for the sake of being linear brings me to…
2. Hilary Duff: Whom I call Spawn of Satan. Soon to take Britney’s place. But unlike Britney I can’t stand Duff’s music at all. It makes me want to puke. Either that or take a two-bit drill to my temple.
3. Hitler: Umm…duh.
4. Twiggy: I blame her for the whole anorexia crisis. I mean, before her people had a decent concept of body image—Marilyn Monroe—but now not so much.
5. Osama Bin Laden: Like Hitler I really don’t think this warrants an explanation.
6. Any President Who Has Interupted CSI For A Speech: this excludes speeches in crisis situatations but for the most part GAAAAHHHH!!!
7. James Earl Ray: how dare you.
8. Nero: smooth buddy. Burn Rome and play your freakin violin.
9. Ernesto Miranda: You’re an idiot. It really frosts my cookies to think that he got off for what he did because he didn’t know his rights. It’s his own fault. Our rights are available in every public library, and had the idiot ever attended school, he would have known them already because schools spell them out in black and white by making you learn them! I’ve gotten into some pretty intense debates over this in and out of classrooms. It’s never a good thing to bring up.
10. Jayne Fonda: Her treatment of troops during Vietnam was, and still is in my opinion, inexcusable. Well that and the work out videos.
11. Prissy: The slave girl from Gone With The Wind. The only thing that irked me was her voice. Sweet Jesus her voice grated on me. I seriously stuffed my head under a pillow to get away from that voice.
12. My ex-Girl Scout Leader: Anybody I actually know I’m not going to write their names down on the off chance they might read this. It’s slim, but still. I quit Girl Scouts in the sixth grade, because she wouldn’t let us dance and she wanted to have tea parties, and I thought I was far to mature for that.
13. Ricky Martin: No I will not shake my bon-bon stop asking!
14. Agamemnon: Dude, you sacrificed your daughter for wind.
15. Robin Leech: Appropriately named. Champagne wishes and caviar dreams. Right. His voice drove me nuts too.
16. My eighth grade math teacher: He yelled. A lot. I didn’t understand anything that man said civilly, and I’ve had problems with math ever since.
17. Tom Sawyer: Kid drove me nuts; I just wanted to shake him.
18. Ryan Seacrest: I have so many issues with this guy simply because he looks like Ken doll.
19. Edgar Allen Poe: This is going to sound strange but I don’t have any problem whatsoever with him. I’ve come to loathe him because in eighth grade we had to memorize The Raven and analyze some of his other works into the ground. I’m bitter about that, oh so bitter. So it’s not Poe’s fault. It’s really said English teacher’s fault, but Poe’s taking the fall for it. Sorry
20. Sisqo: Two words—Thong Song. What were you thinking?!?
21. Lord Capulet: Child abuse and forced marriage.
22. Flower: I have got some SERIOUS issues with the skunk from Bambi. I could go on for another thousand words about my problems with this thing, but I’ll spare you. Ack.
23. The Rabbit: Take the Trix and be gone!
24. Tom Cruise: I only like this man for however long it takes me to watch Top Gun, after that I don’t give a rip.
25. Michael Jackson after Thriller: He went down hill after Thriller. I know he’s got a lot of die-hard fans and that’s great but I just can’t support him. Too much plastic surgery, obnoxious voice, and the disturbing accusations.
26. Joan Rivers: My reasons are very similar to the above except she didn’t do the whole child molestation thing.
27. Severus Snape: You killed Dumbledore! You killed Dumbledore!
28. Thoreau: I liked Civil Disobedience and agreed with what he said. But he lost me during Walden when he attacked material possessions—specifically clothes. I’m very materialistic, and I understand why this is bad, but come on!
29. Movie Critics: They always seem to pick on my favorite films. That makes them bad bad people.
30. Whoever created unreal numbers: did you have to make my life more complicated?
31. Gwyneth Paltrow: simpering wench.
32. Donald Duck: I don’t even know why.
33. The Pioneers: I’ve got school spirit.
34. Kafka: Metamorphosis
35. Rabbit: you know, from Winnie the Pooh? Yeah something crawled up his butt and died cause he was way too cranky 24/7.
36. John Smith: Right, like the Disney movie really worked out that way. Argh. I know how it ended for the Indians.
37. Roger Chillingworth: Scary man. Obsess much? And followed closely by…
38. Pearl: Child is creepy. I hope to never have a child like this! I know Hawthorne was supposed to have tried to paint her in a positive light but she sounds like a demon.
39. Scarlet O’Hara: She was stupid. Shame on womanhood, shame! Nice accent though.
40. Gene: From A Separate Peace; what a jerk. Poor Phineas.
Okay, I’m done for now; it’s getting late. Maybe later I’ll round this off to one hundred. I’m sure I’ll think of some as soon as I get off the computer, Murphy’s Law…
41. Murphy: sadistic bastard.
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