I Need You to Pretend that We Are in Love Again, and You Agreed To

New Month's Resolutions!

Ok. It's time to give scheduling a try (at least for a week). I really want to see how I feel after going to bed early and waking up early for a while. And after spending more time being productive, and less time hanging out with my friends. Um... It kind of makes me miss them already.

BUT... one trial week can't hurt, if I can actually do it. I meant to write a lot more on this, unfotunately, I have to go to bed in about half an hour, and I have things to do before then.

More to come on this.

You Say I Choose Sadness, That It Never Once Has Chosen Me

(maybe you're right)

Why is it that some things just will not die. I'm driving myself insane. I have a million immediate things that I could be turning over in my mind. A million reasons just significant enough to have my head swimming.

But am I worried about my paper that's due tomorrow? Nope. And I have right at 12 hours to write it. Am I worried about the speeding ticket that I have to pay in less than three weeks? Nope. And I have less that half of the money to pay it. Am I worried about the 27 thousand reading assignments that I have yet to do? About my ridiculous social situations and lack of any stable routine? About where I'll live next year or what in the world I want to do with my life?

Why worry torture yourself about the future when you'll never unlock yesterday's chains? There's always that one moment- that moment that happened in an instant, and yet continues to happen even to this day. The moment when I could've said, "You get the fuck out of my family. We're perfect. We don't need any additions, we don't need your shit, we have love to spare, but not for you. Never for you."

But that's not what I said. That's not what I did. Anything. Everything. I shattered my own beautiful family- I insisted that love was never anything but good. I wedged you into cracks (still tight enough to hold water), so that now the remnants are hardly recognizable as pieces of a whole. I demanded that you be trusted.

Of all the fucking false convictions. It never stops. There isn't enough super glue in the world to repair what you did- what I did. And the truth is, there isn't absoluteion real enough to convince me that I'm not to blame. Oh sure, not completely, but, if not for my part, would she have ever gone as far as she did?

Just another manic monday kids. Thanks for being my escape.

The Only Thing I Have to Say: It's Been a Good Year for the Roses

Things that Made Me Happy This Weekend

• Flintstone vitamins with iron
  
• Rilo Kiley
• Naked Frisbee (kind of)
  
• Really Good (or really bad, depending on how you look at it) Hunch Punch
• Silly Germans (who are of the legal drinking age)
• Low Cut Shirts (I like myself in them, and that's really all that matters)
  
• Capitalist Anarchists
• Rap Battles (I, for one, was pretty damn impressed)
  
• Strait Female Friends (who love me enough to make out with me when I'm trying to prove my lesbianism to a supposedly well endowned rapist)
  
• Friends Who Do a Semi-decent Job of Holding My Hair Out of My Face When I Get Sick (the fact that it was only a semi-decent job makes me smile on the inside)
  
• The Elevated Section at Arby's
• Ben Folds
  
• Car Seat Belts
• Cheese Pizza
• Square Coffee Mugs
• Communists and Their Silly Hats
• Spian Rain and Watt Mujcik
• 20 Questions and Captain Dickhead
  
• Elvis Costello
• Riding with the Top Down
  
• $10 Tips
  
• Broseph (what a silly bitch)
  
• Alliteration
• Tolstoy
  
• Duckzilla (who is actually a black goose?)
• Jesuszilla, Son of Godzilla
• Next Semester's Housing Options
  
• Boys in Collared Shirts. Boys Looking Hott in General. (as you probably know, all of my friends are pretty damn attractive)
• Talking to my Sister (always an upper)
  
• Genevieve's Hair
  
• And, to top it all off... Alex Cornett

All in all, a really good weekend kids. It's really crazy, I hardly had any good friends who were guys in high school (cue possesive asshole flashback), but now I can't get enough of them. And, I probably laugh more then the legal limit. Also, I'm in love with all of them. Actually, my female friends too. Name anyone, and I can pretty much name a moment when I knew that he or she was irreplaceable, and when I knew that I would never be them same again as a result of his or her existance. I fall in love probably a thousand times every day that I spend with these people. I want to keep them forever.

I have a ridiculously busy week coming up kids. SO, as a procrastinator, I'll probably be posting even more than usual. Much love bebes.

Another Limited Time Offer

Aw, this one was good too. Sorry that you missed it.

I Do Believe It's True That There Are Roads Left in Both of Our Shoes

(and if the silence takes you then I hope that it takes me too)

I'm feeling restless kids. I need to be shaken up by something- or someone. I need less elipses- more explaination points. I had forgotten what it was like to be me- last semester I was so drained. Anemia creeps up on you- you don't even realise that you're sick because you get accustomed to fatigue. I always a surplus of energy anyway.

And now, thanks to Flintstones vitamins with iron, my frenzied fever of unrest has returned. Seriously, I could explode at any second; my blood is electric blue mercury. I have a fever, I'm burning two humdred thousand degrees and no one can smell the smoke. My emotions are intense and irrational, and I know it, and it's all I can do to keep from screaming. Happiness, anger, sadness, but mostly just unrest. Take me, I'm an all natural upper.

Tonight when I was eating dinner with some friends at a restaraunt, and the background music paused. I looked up at the TV and the news was on, and my first thought was that something horrible had happened. The sick part- I was disappointed to discover that everything was normal. It's awful, how desparate I am to be angry.

And even more, I want someone to feel this vivacity with me. I want someone to dance with me in the rain, to run in the freezing cold, to cry for the children who never get to be born, to scream at the sky. I just want to know that I'm not the only one who burns.

Now THAT'S Morality

I Don't Know If Your Wings Are Real...

So many times when I spend time with Ms. Callie Corely, I stop for a second and think about how ridiculously beautiful she is. It can seriously take my breath away. And that's just physical beauty- then she talks, and my heart feels like it might burst with the amount of love and admiration I have for her.

A lot of times I tend to write emotions off as juvenile; they're not real to me. Talking to Callie reminds me that it's okay to feel. With Callie, it's okay to dream, it's okay to cry, it's okay to laugh for no reason. She's not afraid of everyday tragedy and everyday victory.

No kidding guys, putting things into perspective is bullshit. Your perspective is already valid, and it is senseless to cheapen what you feel just because people have felt worse before. I have the right to be sad and happy and crazy and depressed. I can dance and sing and shout.

Callie is a poorly disguised goddess. Happy Birthday Beautiful!

And Just as Love's Silhouette Appears, I Close My Eyes and Disappear Tonight

tell me, baby, tell me
are you still on the stoop-
watching the windows close?
i've not seen you lately
on the street by the beach
or places we used to go

i've a picture of you on our favorite day by the seaside
there's a bird stealing bread
that i brought
out from under my nose

tell me, baby, tell me
does his company make light of a rainy day?
how i've missed you lately
and the way you would speak
and all that we wouldn't say

do his hands in your hair feel a lot like a thing you believe in?
or a bit like a bird stealing bread out from under your nose?

tell me, baby, tell me
do you carry the words around like a key or change?
i've been thinking lately
of a night on the stoop
and all that we wouldn't say

if i see you againon the street by the beach in the evening...
will you fly like a bird stealing bread out from under my nose?






I wish someone could tell me what I wanted. You'd think it would be something easy to know, right? I do miss you, and I'm sure you might understand better than I do right now, because you almost always do. Why are we always having to choose between the past and the present and the future? You can't have all three you know?

Anyway, I do love you.

They Call Them Rogues; They Travel Fast and Alone.

Love is patient, Love is kind,
It does not envy, it does not boast,
It is not proud, It is not rude,
It is not self-seeking,
It is not easily angered,
It keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil,
but rejoices with the truth.
Love always protects, always trusts,
always hopes, always perseveres.
Love bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never ends.
Love never fails.

-Corinthians 13 : 4 - 8

Dear St. Paul,
I beg to differ. All of the deepest emotions are founded in love- maybe all emotions at all. Poorly expressed love to be sure- but love. The most violent rage is instigated by love. The most intricated lies are woven to secure love that is otherwise precarious. Jealously and insecurity are the prizes won by tender hearts in competition for love. Love is defensive and afraid; love and vunerabilty are interchangeable.

Love is a shield made of opaque glass. It gives the illusion of protection, but the truth is, it can be shattered into a thousand beautiful daggers. Love has a breaking point. It's true that love will hold on to hope in the face of immutable fact, but this hope can become the crutch that she leans against, and the tonic that she cannot live with out.

It is beautiful to think that love never fails, but the truth is that sometimes love is just not enough.

Without love there is no fear. There is no jealousy, and no distrust. Without love there is no despair or heartbreak, no fury or vengence. Without love, there is no hate.

Maybe next time you write about love, you should be a little more honest.

Love is painful.
Love brings forth emotions that you never knew you had.
For love, you will cry, steal, lie and bleed.
For love, you will surrender everything you once valued.
Love incites riots and inspires poetry;
she is the muse that will not rest until exhausted beyond survival.
The death of love is a tragic release: it is rare, but real.

Love will bring forth suffering beyond imagination.

Love is always worth it.

-Lindsey 7: 11 - 20

We Fell Through the Ice When We Tried Not to Slip

Why is nothing ever real to me? I have these scenes where I know that I actually have the right to react. I have opportunities for fantastic and justified drama. I have so many things that I could cry over. I could have girl talk and ice cream, write vindictive blogs and angry emails, call my mom and get sound advice. I could be crushed, and then rise manificently above it.

Could, but can't.

My average emotional reaction lasts all of five minutes, and then I feel silly and overdramatic. I feel silly and over-dramatic now. I feel like I was cruel. The thing is, in the situation I'm in, I should by all means be the victim, but I don't feel that way at all. I can describe the situation as if I am, and can logically see everything in the world that I have not done to deserve this, and can justify whatever I have done.

But the truth is, inside I feel like a manipulative witch, who plays with fire and isn't surprised when she gets burned. Is that not the reaction I was looking for, deep down? What the hell do I want? Why can't I see the situation the way I insist upon pretending it is?

I'm destined to have sociopathic relationships for the rest of my life. Romantic suicide every time: I'll climb to the top of the pedastool and then throw myself to the ground. Do I get a rush from the fall?

But here, I overestimate the absence of emotion in you. Your reactions always surprise me. Always. I might be in some sort of sick competition with you, over the ability to desensitize. The thing is, I've practiced in circumstances that are way more extreme. Like those runners who train on mountaintops, where there's hardly any oxygen- if you can run there, then running at sea level is nothing. I don't want to win any more.

This blog makes no kind of sense to most of you, and very little sense to the rest, but I think I come off as some sort of monster with no feelings- that's not it. It's more like, I have no sympathy for myself. In my mind, I am always the perpatrator, and never the victim, even when you think that I am. I never believe it. This is actually sort of an epiphany here. No matter what the situation is, I really do always feel like I've done something wrong. I don't like going to the doctor because if I'm sick, I feel guilty. I hate asking my parents for money because I feel guilty about needing it. I can't stay mad at anyone without feeling like I deserve to be hated- that's the real reason why I hate being angry.

It's way past bedtime kids. In closing, I'm sorry.

Nothing in the Past or Future Ever Will Feel Like Today

Hooray for Genevieve being on blogger! Hooray for photojournalism! Boo for kodak and their overpriced film!

I could award various "yays" and "boos," but you'd get tired of that real fast. The entire world is ADD. They should really diagnose people who sit still for too long. There should be a prescription drug for normalcy.

I've had a good weekend home, a good visit with my beloveds. It seems that my dear Mario's quality of life is better than I suspected, and there's no need to expedite his passing, which makes me very happy. I just don't want him to be in any kind of pain.
Bo is fatter than I ever imagined he would be, and the puppies are ridiculous. The rest of the family is just as fantastic as expected. I went to mass with all of them this morning, which I haven't done in ages upon ages, and that made me happy. I don't care who you are, my siblings are pretty much cooler than you. I mean all of them. When we're all together, I'm surprised it doesn't tear the fabric of the universe or something. You should be insanely jealous of my family. I know I am.

This was a pretty impromptu trip, but it was totally a good idea. And now I'm off for home!

P.S. Do not send me creepy emails about being a suicide girl. There wil be no previews, and you are officially sketchy.

fuck the poets of the past, my friends.

there are no beautiful suicides
just cold corpses with shit in their pants
& the end of the gifts.

- (I wish I knew whose name went here)

Sometimes We Build Walls, Not to Keep People Out, But to See Who Loves Us Enough to Knock Them Down.

(the thing is, some people aren't knocking them down at all, they're just clever enough to get around them- this means you're not only exposed, but trapped.)

Why is it that I always end up in the weirdest relationships?

Maybe everyone thinks that his situation is atypical, and sure, their are idiosyncrasies in every case. But I really do think that I somehow end up with these scenarios that are too complex for a made for TV movie- too fucked up to even be stereotyped.

Actually, "fucked up," though accurate, really doesn't have the conotation I'm looking for- this post isn't going to be as negative as you're thinking, kids. I mean, I there are some cases in my life where the implications of 'fucked up" are perfectly legitimate, but the one that's on my mind at the present is more fun.

A roller coaster analogy is a little hackneyed isn't it? It is, but I'm going to use it anyway, but don't worry, this isn't your grandma's loop-de-loop. Ok, so it's like a roller coaster where you start off on the upside down part (which is a very exciting part, but, if you're looking for a healthy roller coaster, there should be a good deal of anticipation before the (no pun intended) climax). From the loop you head down into a tunnel, which has some effects that might upset Average Joe, but they don't really phase you because you've seen some world class monsters in your day. So, while AJ over there starts to cry, you just end up really fucking pissed off. But you know, you're still having fun. There are a few more loops and a few more tunnels, and it's all good fun. The thing is, these are two-person seats, and your partner keeps switching carts (I know you can't do that in real life, stop looking too far into this ok?). Anyway, you're fine with that (it's not like you're in love with this partner), except that if someone else wants to come sit by you, they can't, because your partner could come back and want his seat. And you can't get up and move because you really like the people who are in the seats behind you and in front of you, and you actually really like your partner too, except that he keeps moving. And the thing is, you would've been fine in a seat by yourself, but all of the jumping in and out of the cart (oh, and also the fact that through out the whole ride you're sipping some sort of alcohalic beverage) is making you nausous.Regardless, it's a rollercoaster, and rollercoasters are ALWAYS worth it (that's a rule), and rollercoasters are lots of fun. Plus I was never one to scream about how I wanted off once the ride started, and this much more exciting then the ferris wheel I was on a year ago.

So that was a pretty long paragraph. I put the picture in there for those of you who can't read.

In other news, I'm a horrible person, do not let me convince you otherwise. You think I'm kiddin, but the only reason I'm warning you is because I know that I'll eventually do something really shitty to you later, and then when I hurt your feelings I'll feel guilty about it, and you have no right to make me feel guilty! I warned you. I mean, love me to death, but don't forget that I am no good.

Boys Playing Guitar Makes Me Fall in Love. Also, Back Scratches.

I decided I want to be a SuicideGirl. Seriously. I really never wanted to be a politician any way. I turn 19 in less than a month! Know what that means? Means I can be a SuicideGirl then, and also, buy cigarettes.

Very moody this week kids. I need some love.

Gather Ye Rosebuds and All That Jazz.

Put the keg on my coffin,
And think of me every so often
Have a losers' day parade for all my friends
Drink up life like a river til the pizza man delivers
Smile, and know I loved you til the end

Here's what you do when my time comes to pass
(Charlie told me through the reflection in his glass)
Don't waste time praying cause I'm never coming back
Just throw a party in my name

(Put the keg on my coffin, and think of me every so often. Have a losers' day parade for all my friends.
Drink up life like a river til the pizza man delivers.
Smile, and know I loved you til the end.)

Here's what to write on the stone over my grave,
"His friends were earned, and not a penny saved."
Don't waste time crying cause you too are on your way
(Meet me at the pawn shop in the sky)

(Put the keg on my coffin, and think of me every so often. Have a losers' day parade for all my friends.
Drink up life like a river til the pizza man delivers.
Smile, and know I loved you til the end.)

Smile, and know I loved you til the end.

Smile, and know I'll love you til the end.

Drunken Post, Viewable for a Limited Time Only.

looks like you missed it, better luck next time!

Some Times in the Morning I am Petrified and Can't Breathe

I don't think any of you have any sort of idea how much I care about you.

I'm a Modern Girl, But I Fall Apart So Easily.

When do things get easy again?

I've never had a whole lot of really tough morality issues. I mean, I've had hard times, and there've been plenty of cases where blame is anybody's ball. I've been in situations so complex and twisted that they're too complex for a Lifetime movie.
But this one- not so much. The scenerio I'm currently dealing with is actually probably one of the most common discussion topics of today. I find myself wishing I had an ultimate answer.

Morality.

What's the most important aspect anyway? Is it love? Justice? Greater good? I tend to think that people rely to heavily on things like the Bible for moral guidance. I really think that we ultimately know right from wrong, an there are things that are commandement kosher that grate on my conscience like a metal file on my teeth. At the same time, there are issues too complex for the Bible to be of any real help.

Every time I've ever heard the Bible story about the "golden rule," it's gone something like this: Some hoity toity religious officials are trying to be smart asses, and ask Jesus what the most important commandment is. Jesus, sly cat that he was, didn't give them a commandment, but instead gave the pretty standard golden rule. I would like to think that maybe this story is slightly inaccurate, because I think the pharasees tend to ge a bad rap in the good book. What if they weren't trying to trick JC at all? Suppose someone was just dealing with a really fucking tough issue, and honestly wanted to know what the fuck was the right thing to do?

And there it is. The end, the ultimate, it all comes down to unconditional love. But what if by withholding love you could maybe influence someone enough to the "right thing?"

More on this later kids. I don't know what to do.

I Am Forbidden to Produce Milk. In Cyberland We Only Drink... Diet Coke. (echo)

Errr... in an intersting twist, my mother got a ticket for going 89 in a 60. Turns out my dad wasn't so mad about mine after all. See what emotion I wasted worrying over that! Oh well, it would certainly be counter productive to waste emotion worrying over the emotion I wasted in the first place.
But I'll tell you what is NOT a waste of emotion: me being pissed the hell off at the asshole who almost fucking killed me about two weeks ago. So here's the scence: I'm on my way home from my grandmother's house, three nights before Christmas. She lives out in th middle of no where, and the road that lead out to her hoouse are very windy and hilly and narrow, and there are no streetlights. It's not unusual for cars to ride in the middle of the road during the day, and even sometimes at night. Needless to say, this is pretty dangerous except the thing is, at night, you can see the cars ahead of you very far in advance- far enough in advance to get the fuck back in your lane. Unless, that is, your name is A----- and you're kind of a dumb ass. In which case you would continue to ride down the middle of the god damn road.
So, when A----- and I cross paths, I am HUGGING my side of the road. He is still close enough to knock off my driver's side mirror. It's lucky he stopped at all, and he did acknowledge that the wreck was his fault, and then wrote down his insurance information for me. Stupidly, I didn't ask for a police report, but in my defence it was very dark, my car doesn't lock, and I didn't have a cell phone with me at the time. Still, that was dumb. I should've asked him to call the police.
Long story short, he's now claiming that the wreck as not his fault at all, and even though he claims that his car was damaged almost quadruple what mine was, he wants us to just both pay for our own cars and let that be the end of it. The girl who was in the car with him backs his story. Before writing this I was feeling kind of vindictive, but actually, now that I go back and read it, I'm kind of over it.
I guess what makes me so mad is that he was so nice about it every time when we talked about it before, and then he writes me and email that says he talked to his dad, and his dad told him he's not liable for any of this. And this time he was an asshole! The thing is, I can kind of see my dad doing the same thing. Maybe. I think if I were really firm about it being my fault he wouldn't, but I can see him suggesting that it wasn't my fault. Princlples kids.
Like last year when my boyfriend and I were racing, we got pulled over. Well, technically, HE got pulled over, and I stopped too- so we BOTH got tickets, instead of just him. Almost everyone I ever told the story too was like, "You are so dumb for stopping! Of course you got a ticket too!" hello?! Don't you think that I KNEW that I was going to get a ticket too? And my boyfriend thought it was the greatest thing, but I really wanted him to understand that, not that I didn't love him, but I would have stopped for anyone! I mean, saving your own ass is one thing, but you don't leave someone behind to take the fall. You just don't.

Three cheers for honor.

I Felt I Was On Fire with the Things I Could've Told You

In 2005 I...

( ) stayed single for the whole year
( ) got your first kiss
(x) kissed someone new (several)
( ) made-out for the first time
(x) made-out in/on a car (in, but not on...)
( ) kissed in the snow
(x) kissed in the rain (beautiful)
(x) fell in love (i fall in love like a thousand times a week!)
( ) had your heart broken (was never whole to begin with)
(x) broke someone else's heart :(
( ) had a stalker
(x) had a good relationship with someone (i suppose)
(x) someone questioned your sexual orientation (i wonder why?)
( ) came out of the closet
( ) gotten pregnant
( ) gotten someone else pregnant
( ) had an abortion
(x) gotten married (on the facebook)
(x) had a divorce (on the facebook)
(x) moved in with someone (three boys and two girls!)
(x) dated someone you'll never forget
( ) done something you've regretted (forget regret!)
( ) lost your true love
( ) lost faith in love (eh, it's everything or it's nothing, either way, it's real)
( ) kissed under miseltoe (how the hell did we forget to put up any miseltoe?!)

WORK/SCHOOL
( ) got a promotion
( ) got a pay raise
( ) changed jobs
( ) lost your job
(x) quit your job (well, i moved away)
(x) dated a co-worker
( ) dated your boss
( ) dated your boss' daughter/son (i WAS the boss's daughter)
( ) got fired from your job
(x) got straight A's (no B's in high school!)
(x) met one teacher you really like (several)
(x) met one teacher you really hated (also serval)
( ) failed a class (gasp... never)
(xxxxxxx) cut class (damn those absence policies!)
(x) skipped school (isn't that the same thing?)
( ) got into a fight with a classmate
(x) did something you were proud of (tennis singles- state runner up!)
(x) discovered a new talent (i can whistle!)
(x) gave the teachers a reason to teach (i would hope so!)
(x) proved yourself an idiot (more than once, i'm sure)
( ) embarassed yourself in front of the class
(x) fell in love with a teacher (oh richard richards...)
(x) got lead in the school play (well, i was caliban!)
(x) made a varsity team (volleyball, basketball, tennis)
(x) were involved in something you'll never forget (basketball, threepeat state champions)

OTHER
(x) painted a picture (i got these really awesome water color pencils!)
(x) wrote a poem (several very exciting haikus about little known tidbits, along with others)
(x) ran a mile (me and ryan OWNED that track)
(x) listened to music you couldn't stand (every single party at ben and chace's)
(x) double-dipped (we are talking about food here? b\c if "double-dipped" means something else, i'm totally out of the loop)
(x) skinny-dipped (in the ocean at like 3 in the morning)
(x) went to a sleepover (every single night in my dorm is a sleepover)
(x) went to camp (special session, aids camp, fall college conference)
(x) threw a surprise party (every good night begins and ends at waffle house)
(x) laughed till you cried (too many times to count)
(x) laughed till you peed in your pants (not gonna lie...)
(x) flirted shamelessly (yeah...)
(x) visited a foreign country (england!)
( ) visted a new state
(x) cooked a disasterous meal (i tried to cook this pasta with tofu... not gonna lie, that was disgusting looking)
( ) lost something important to you
(x) got a gift you adore (a bunch!)
(x) realized something new about yourself (wow)
(x) went on a diet (i became a vegetarian, that's a diet)
( ) tried to gain weight
(x) dyed your hair (from red to black to orangey and then back to brown again. yay!)
(x) came close to losing your life (what can i say, i live on the edge)
( ) someone close to you died (wow, amazingly, no one. the only funerals i attended this year were senator heflin's, and mr. pounder's, and i wasn't close to either of them)
(x) went to a party (i'm just about partied out)
(x) drank alcohol (keep that on the dl kids)
(x) drank alcohol underage (no, just kidding, i magically became 21 every time i drank)
(x) did (a) drug(s) (two that i can think of, three if you count cigarettes)
(x) got drunk (i was method acting ok?!)
( ) got arrested (no, but i did get a speeding ticket on the very last day of the year)
(x) read a great book (fight club, and perks of being a wallflower, among others)
(x) saw a great movie (RENT! among others)
(x) saw a movie so scary that it made you cry (most scary movies actually make me cry if i really pay attetion to them)
(x) saw your favorite band/artist live (the decemberists!!!!!!!!!!)
( ) saw someone famous in person
(x) did something you want to tell everyone (i just can't think anything right now!)
(x) enjoyed this year overall (it will go down as one of the best years in history!)

I Can't Stand This Indecision, Married With a Lack of Vision. Everybody Wants to Rule the World.

Happy First Wednesday everyone! I've decided that the most important day in the first week of the year is Wednesday. Think about it- it's the only time that Wednesday gets to be first. Sunday is the first day of the week (officially). Monday is the first day of the week (really). When you only consider the days of the week that start with "t" Tuesday is first. Thursday is the begining of the end of the week. Friday is the begining of the weekend. Saturday is the begining of the Sabbath (Plus it's Saturday for goodness' sake. It's not lacking for celebration). Today is Wednesday's one chance to shine. My brother and I shot some fireworks to commemerate.
In other news. I got a speeding ticket. Eighty-six in a fifty-five does not seem so ridicuolous to me, but according to the reactions I get from all the people I tell, it's pretty damn fast. So, my car could potentially be taken away here folks, and I just got this one less than a month ago. C'est la vive; il n'y a rien à gagner de pleurer.
So, my New Year's trip turned out to be a remarkable success, but it's made me a bit more apprehensive about the coming semester. The thing is, I need to decide what it is that I want. Actually, that's probably kind of useless, and not incredibly relevant to reality. I don't know what it is that I need really. I just feel somewhat unprepared. But the thing is, I don't even know what I should be preparing for.
Regardless, I'm excited. The End.

p. s. i need to work on my self control.

p.p.s. wachel... guess who? grober!
.

All that was once cool is now deck.

Seeing my friends from school reminds me of my capacity for love. It's not even so much who they are as who the allow me to be. I mean don't get me wrong, I LOVE these kids, but I love lots of people; what's so special about my Tuscaloosa friends is that just being around them makes me fall in love with the whole world all over again.
The thing about relationships (any kind, from friendships to romance) is that we are all inclined to depend on one another- which is good and bad. It's like leaning on someone: even if you're both supporting each other, neither of you is really able to move. So there should be people in our lives that we lean on, but those people should have someone else to lean on too. Maybe you could trace a huge support chain through the entire human race? But maybe not, because at home, I feel like the person on the very end, who is entirely able to stand on her own two feet.
Someone didn't get the memo that I have weak ankles. Had I not found the friends that I am now so blessed to have, I would've surely collapsed by now. It's really my fault; I wanted to be the stable one. I wanted to be the one who had her shit together, who never seemed phased or distressed. I wanted to be happy, heathly, and intellegent. And, I was.
I have this reoccuring nightmare where I'm at a banquet with everyone that I know, and I'm supposed to make a speech. Right before I'm supposed to go on stage I look down, and there's blood everywhere, and I can't figure out why. Then I realise that it's my blood. I never actually look to see where I'm wounded, because at this point I start to panic, and my greatest fear is that everyone will see that I can't give my speech any more. This is where I wake up or fade into another dream or something I guess, because I can't tell you how it ends. But I can tell you that if this nightmare were slightly altered, and I were in a room with only my Tuscaloosa friends, things would be much different. I don't have to have the dream to tell you what it would be like: I would realise that the blood was mine, only to look up and see that everyone in the room is bruised beyond repair. And then, in a weird dreamy kind of way, because everyone is hurt, no one is hurt. And then we probably fly away on a magic carpet or something.


Instead of metaphorically leaning on each other, we are in a great big metaphoric dog pile. Or maybe a metaphoric black hole, where we do nothing but continuously collapse on one another, and no one's quite sure how the whole thing even works.

The point is, my friends rule at life. I can't wait to get back to school.

P. S. Happy New Year, also, "deck" is my new favorite word. "Fin" is my second favorite word."Symphony" has been bumped down to number three.