l

I finished a glove in two days. It would have only taken one, but I was too busy to keep going.

Did I tell you all that I knit?

Its something I've been doing for quite a few months now, and I adore it.

My friend C is in the hospital. She hasn't told me what happened or why, but I assume that she'll reveal it to me when I visit her. I would have visited today, but my mother came up with a few reasons why we just couldn't, even after I called work and told them I would be an hour or two late.

I'd like to tell you all why I spent some time crying last night. This isn't easy for me, because I'm still in the "crying=weakness" mindset, and I don't like appearing less than or wanting in front of anyone.

My little brother and I used to fight like cats and dogs. We would quarrel over the tiniest things and for the longest time. Last night I wasn't in the greatest of moods, and I was mean to him over something silly. Yes, I said that he should just not talk to me, and yes I did call him retarded. I understand that the pain I felt from his retaliating words is probably the same pain he felt from my beginning words.

But he knows how to hurt me, and he uses the same phrases every time we have a spat.

I think I've mentioned before how behind I am in what is typically conceived as a "normal" life. I have my permit, but not my license. I have a job, but I've gone quite a long time without one. I am not in college, nor do I know what I would do or study if I were in college.

I'm twenty years old. I've lived away from home multiple times, all for short periods because something just always didn't work out. I'm not prepared for life in any way.

I don't know what to do about this. I don't know where to go, or if I should talk to someone. I'm completely and totally lost. Most of the time, when I'm down about this, I wish that someone would just take my hand and tell me what I should do, because I have no clue.

So maybe you all know what I'm talking about?

A Note to a Friend

A longish time ago, in a wrecked state of mind, I wrote an almost-suicide note to my best friend. I've edited some of it down, and I'm going to post it here.

I think I should point out that when I did this, drugs were still running through my system.

So yeah, I'm a bit better.

But I found it almost charming, this letter from my past self.

I don't know when you'll ever see this. I don't know what will have happened by then. I am so sad. I don't even know what this means, why I do. But then again I do know, it's because no one understands it anymore, the way I wonder at things and elaborate on them and everyone just doesn't listen or doesn't care and says I think too much. It's like how we said before--we'll figure it out and then we'll die. I'm just waiting for my truck to hit me and I miss you so much, because you would understand. Wouldn't you? Would you? Sometimes when we talk I feel like you're only half-listening and just waiting to talk yourself.

I don't like being a mean cynical old hag, I really don't. But I am.

I feel suspended in mid-air, like all the things I've ever thought about are completely uncertain and I can never get back in the box, now I'm a sphere but because I'm so open I think about both sides and now nothing makes sense because it can't make sense and it won't make sense and it could make sense if I just step into the box but I can't because I don't want to be that person. And maybe I've had all my opportunities and never taken them and never stood up so now I don't get anymore. And now I'm just a sheep in the masses and you know, this whole life thing is pointless. Because all we want is to be remembered but sometime down the line we all get forgotten so what's the point? Yeah old things are remembered, like Gilgamesh. But there was a whole other time, a whole other ancient before that.

I just wish all my puzzle pieces would fit together right but they won't because I missed something--I've always missed something.

When I was a very little girl I had a dream that God was talking to me. And I got so scared of this giant voice that no one else heard that I just shut my eyes and balled myself up and didn't listen.

I feel like I should have listened, but instead I was a stupid silly girl, like usual.

And there went something amazing. Something important that I missed.

Ashley, I used to live for things. I used to live for music and singing and everyone said I was good at it and it came so naturally. And then the loneliness ate it up and everything else and eventually it just dried up and I couldn't do it anymore. Yesterday I sang. Yesterday I was good again. Yesterday I was beautiful and brilliant and sexy and amazing and everything was right for just a few songs from Phantom of the Opera and the Lion King.

And then no one will listen again. And now I'm here, writing you something that may be a suicide note but I just don't know or understand.

I mean, why do people throw their friendships away? It's the most important thing.

And why are people so obsessed with fitting in and being in love more than being themselves and loving everyone else? Love is just pure narcissism. It's just making someone feel good so that they will make you feel good and back and forth and up and down and all around and it's ribbons tying up the heart and choking it to death and don't these people understand that that love with that person won't last? It may, there's a chance, but for the most part we're always growing so shouldn't they not commit so fully, for life, with this person? Because if they grow apart, chances are they're stuck or in pain. Financially it's just not smart.

Like that saying "only the rich can afford to divorce" well shouldn't it be a step before that? Only the rich can afford to marry and then twenty years later divorce?

It's a fleeting little hot spot that will grow cold one day. Unless you're super lucky and not only is your lover your lover but also your soulmate. But then again the older souls are just split up more so you can have dozens upon dozens of soulmates. and love each of them. Right?

Tell Chelsie that I'm very thankful to her. She and Kaylah showed me what true friendship was for the first time.

that's not to say we were never true friends--we were, we are still.

But we were thrown together and mixed up and our friendship isn't necessarily just because we like each other--it's that we're entwined somehow, that we had to be friends or else our lives wouldn't have moved forward in the right way.

The only thing is...I'm pretty sure my life is stopped. I keep thinking "no, there's always tomorrow, you aren't even twenty yet, when you're thirty you'll look back and see that this was just silly and you were just young."

but I've never seen myself as older. Its just blank.

I'm scared to death (haha, you'll see the humor in that statement some day) that I'm going to be ordinary. plain. just another machine.

I can't do it anymore. Even my plans of going to NYC, even the thought of my plans to go there...it's like I've fantasized it so much that it's already happened and now I'm done. I've gone there and I've done things in my head, and now the universe won't let me do them for real.

Something was there, in my soul, but it was morning. It was morning, the time, and it was also morning, the feeling. It was new and dawny and pleasant and gorgeous and there was my connection again. And it made me feel tingly and not alone.

But it won't give me anything but a sense of peace.

I had a dream today when I was napping that there were two shadow dogs in my grandparent's house and they were trying to attack us all and eat us and I yelled, I roared, and my voice almost but not quite was a Lion's roar and they went away. And then I pushed it down and it was on the floor and it was physical and I could beat it and when I finished beating it it had peed on the kitchen floor, right in front of the stove. and I picked it up and I carried it to a room I'd never seen before where the doors were hooks to the walls and netting in the spaces the walls were missing but instead of a vicious black dog it was a leopard. And then a panther. and some sort of small panther though, like a really big black and brown cat. and I remember looking at it and feeling regret and I wished i hadn't have hurt it. And then I realized that it wasn't a dog, it was a cat, and I love cats. I just hurt something I loved.

Then it began to awaken lying on the bed in the middle of the room, and I closed the door and tried to put up netting but I knew that wouldn't hold it, but maybe just maybe it would. and the cat was my sister, she woke up and sat up and we talked and laughed about something and then I woke up and thought about how much I'd like to be a lion. Not a lioness, but a lion, with a full mane.

Remember when I told you that some people die when they weren't supposed to? And how I thought it worked both ways and that sometimes maybe people who were supposed to have died lived instead? When they weren't supposed to? And how I thought I was one of those people?

(Here I told her about a theory I had and a story that I had to go with it. I tell her to write it.)

I'd do it myself, but I just don't feel it anymore. I just don't understand anything, but yet I understand everything.

I felt like I should be a transparent eyeball, like Emerson says. And this time I'll not repel everything because it has two sides, I'll pick what I love and believe and like and what I don't care for, and I'll suck it into myself and let it paint itself on my skin and color the twinkles in my eyes and let it whisper into my hair. And there I'll sit in the stars.

And the scientists? they're wrong. they aren't just giant balls of gas. they're the world's lovers and a race of their own. They are where dancers and grace are born and sent to us way down here.

So maybe, hopefully, I'll do that and be that and everything will be fine.

Ignorance is bliss, knowledge is conflicting, but loving and accepting things is the stuff where dreams thrive. I want to thrive again.

I have been cutting myself open and sewing myself up, but not physically.

You were right.

I'm not sure anymore, what to do. I don't want to outright make myself die. But if it happens sometime soon, at least now you'll know all of this.

Hah, the little there is to know from my brain. I only put down about 1/99th of what I've figured out. Oh well.

If I do die sometime or somehow, recognize me in other things, and other places. I don't believe that time is linear, i believe it is cicular and intertwining in the most elaborate fashion. I believe my life now is also my life then, and another is here on this earth at this moment in a different place. Hell, maybe all the good feelings we get from places is just a future or past self saying hello in passing. if that makes sense, hahaha!

Do me a favor. if I don't die for another ten to fifty years, don't speak of this message to me. The next time we speak on the phone, don't bring it up or hint at it, or ever again.

By the way, if I do die you can bet your bottom dollar I'll fight through hell and highwater (hmm. maybe literally?) to come visit your board and cards and self and dreams. So it's never really goodbye, right?

See you on the flipside.

fuck tumblr

It has this allure to it all

but honestly it just sucks your soul out

and I'm sick of not having real friends

when did I let myself be satisfied with only online?

ugh fuck it all

I want skin-on-skin contact and earth and things bigger and better

I want to shove it in my mouth and have to spit it out because there's just too much at once

L'amour

Pansexuality.

Sex.

Screaming.

Pleasure.

Gay.

Rights.

Protests.

Pleading.

Look.

See.

Spread.

Legs.

Fishnets.

Combat boots.

Lipstick.

Dresses.

Un-Innocence.

Love.

Naive.

Reporting.

Receiving.

Believing.

Repeating.

Remember.

Forget.

Forget to remember.
Die.

i luff u all

and that's all I really need to say about that

Let's Try to Keep This Steady, Now.

Oh my goodness gracious I have not written on this in forever.

Mainly because I've become absolutely obsessed with tumblr.

But I've gotten your comments and I thank you for them!

So. What to talk about.

Oh! Well for one thing I finally got a job!!!!!!!!

It's at Culver's, which is this neat chain of burger/frozen custard joints. The food there is excellent and I am excited to be working there!!

Also on Thursday I have a job interview for Sears, so hopefully I can get both jobs fully up and running. Oh to have money and a bank account again!!

I've been reading more lately!

L. M. Montgomery makes me cry so much, especially in the later books, when we meet Walter. I don't know what it is about that name but I love it so much; every literary character named Walter I adore, and least the ones I've met so far.

I believe you meet and absorb so much more than others believe. I think you can roll around in bed with a song and confess secrets to characters in books or movies. I believe that the stars above are ethereal beings of wisdom. I don't care what the scientists say, they are, and Caspian married one.

The main point of this being that I forgot how good books are to me. And Anne Shirley is probably one of my favorite ladies ever (aside from Ms. Gaga!). I can daydream on my own and not feel silly. I can speak in the tongue of purple prose and ignore those who would look down their noses at me for it.

Screw a semblance of normality, I'll take eaves dripping with faerie dust as the echoes of childhood call across valleys.

That's another thing--I forgot how to look at things. Observing them with the right mindset is half the point of telling a successful story. And we should enjoy the nature we have left.

I need to gain self-discipline again, control the parts of my mind that affect the mishaps in my life.

Statusi specifica--stop thinking about things that would never actually help me. aka...the boy.

Love is important, but I'm not ready and there's a part of me that knows deep down that it's not going to happen.

I do want something, though. Not necessarily from him, but from someone nice. I wonder if I could have a one-night kiss. Nothing sexual, just something wonderful for me to sigh about later.

I'm going to improve my vocabulary. This tumblr-speak thing has to stop.

Sometimes I feel like I should go off the grid for a bit.

God, if I could. In a year I'll make my move, even if it's just traveling across the USA for a month. I don't want to feel so ashamed about not being so "caught up" with normal people. So I let it slack that I didn't get a permit until I was 19, so I've only had one job for 9 months a year ago. So I sucked at school and didn't go to college.

Fuck all of that. I am going to believe that there is a higher purpose for me again, and that all of my laziness is going to be for a reason, now that I'm deciding not to be lazy. That everything will end up being good and maybe even wonderful.

There Was A Point To This, I Swear...

So, I'm tired of being depressing.

I think my lack of a decent non-vampire sleeping schedule is the problem (not that there is anything wrong with vampires, I love them, I used to want to be one, but right now I like the image of me, older, dewy grass and gardening and making a home and baking love and such. I know, I'm sentimental.).

So I went to sleep around 9:41 last night, and woke up at 6:32 this morning! Yes!!

And as of now it's 7:40.

Let me tell you all something--I am not a breakfast person.

I adore mornings, but breakfast? Not so much. I just don't feel like opening my big fat mouth to absorb things before noon. Now, don't get me wrong--I love breakfast foods. Just not at breakfast time. That's why some of my favorite dinners were when mom mixed it up and we had "Breakfast for Dinner" nights.

Now, when I was younger, my family used to have breakfast together pretty regularly and it was a big cooking bonanza deal, with dad blaring Larry Norman or the Beatles or CCR or whatever else he felt like that morning. Mom would be chopping the potatoes for home fries, while also whisking up some eggs and frying bacon and then using the grease from the bacon to make gravy and putting biscuits in the oven and do not come in here it is a warzone just let me cook in peace!!! being screa--I mean. Being said every few minutes. Sternly.

Don't judge her on that, though. You'd do it too if you had five kids to feed and a husband who blared random oldies throughout the entire house.

Anyway, it wasn't that bad, but it was busy and loud and of course us kids would set the table and get everyone up and help with the biscuits. It was great.

So those types of breakfasts I can do.

I realize, of course, that for the past five or eight years I've been ignoring the mantra that is forcibly pushed on every schoolchild in America--Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

And Rachel Ray says that you should eat like a king for breakfast, a queen for lunch (no, that wasn't a gay joke. It could be. I do have "hagging rights" but I don't use them. Much. Anyway.), and a pauper for dinner. It's a good formula. I should use it.

But I just don't. Rather, I haven't. Starting today (yes, today), I am a new woman. I am accomplished. I am happy. I am striving to be more than what I am.

Today, I have goals.

Today, I will have pancakes.

Oatmeal Cookie Pancakes.

At first I figured we just couldn't do that because we need buttermilk and raisins and I'm at my grandparents house so while I know they have 32446313424 baking materials, I got on good word from a source that we don't have either of those ingredients so I was bummed for like two seconds.

But I told that source about this recipe and showed her it, and she (okay I will admit that the source is just my grandmother) agreed that we must do this now.

Did you know that buttermilk is just milk and a little bit of vinegar? Crazy.

This also means that I can make my snickerdoodles.

Rejoice to the Morning Gods, the Baking Gods, and that feeling you get at the start of something new.

blank

I saw myself in the mirror. And I stopped sucking in my stomach. And realized some things.

So I laid down on the floor to start some crunches.

I laid there for an hour.

Of Lost and Pygmy Marmosets

It's freezing in front of me because the AC is on, even though I'm wearing a pink snuggie.

I got my sister's wireless internet to work!! That means regular blog posts!!!

So here we go!

A regular post!

Give me a minute to think!

OH RIGHT, LOST!!!

I am aware that the show Lost is well and done, but some sane people in this world have not watched a single episode of it because we acknowledge that we have too many addictions as is, and do not need to heap that much more anxiety on our metaphorical plates.

Knowing the advantage to starting a series after it's all well and done is how quickly you can go through it, a few friends and I decided to pop our Lost cherries, and watch it on Hulu (the entire series of Lost is available on http://www.hulu.com until December 31st, 2010, so get on that, yo!).

We've decided to do four episodes a day, which means we should be done sometime at the end of next month. Funtimes!

Have you ever seen a pygmy marmoset? They're adorable. Look it up.

Draw Muhammad Day

So, this is regarding the Draw Muhammad Day thing. A friend of mine was talked into drawing a Powerpuff Girl version of Muhammad, and she stated that she's not going to post it. Then a few minutes later she said she felt bad. Aaron told her not to. This is the following conversation that took place via skype.

Me: Well, it is kinda bad. I mean, yeah there are extremists in that religion but it is a sacred law that they don't want any depictions of him. And that's a general rule. So...throwing that in their faces in that manner is accomplishing what?

Aaron: of telling them en masse to stfu and not impress their silly desires on the rest of the world

Me: That is such an ignorant statement. It's a religion. That's like every non-Christian plastering offensive pictures of Jesus and telling all the Christians that their beliefs are retarded.

Aaron: lots of people do do that

Me: That's an opinion, and the one thing this world needs is to stop being douches to other people just because they disagree.

Yeah, doesn't make it right.

I poke fun, I'm not perfect, but I don't go out of my way to fuck with everyone just because I don't agree with them.

Aaron: sure, many muslims need to stop being douches and stop threatening death, attacking, and killing people who draw muhamed

Me: Bullshit. There are always going to be large groups of extremists in every religion.

But I guaran-damn-tee you that there is at least ONE person who wouldn't hate and threaten death. And I will sure as fuck defend them, because it's worth it.

Aaron: there seem to be a rather large number of -violent- extreamists within Islam

Aaron: the ones who wont hate or threaten probably wont care much about all this

Me: No, they'll probably be deeply saddened.

Aaron: *shrugs* i dissagree

Me: Yeah, of course there isn't one Muslim who's hurt by all this. Who wishes love on those who persecute him/her.

Aaron: mmm yes, this is totally persicution

Me: In respect of that person and their beliefs, I'm standing against it. Yes, it is.

It's a slap in the face to that person.

Aaron: its more like a middle finger

Me: It's complete disrespect of them and their beliefs.

Aaron: disrespecting a religion is not persicuting it

Me: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/persecute

Me: Here, educate yourself.

Liz: well it doesnt matter

because i'm not gonna post it or anything

Aaron: alright, i digress

Brandon: what are you all talking about?

Me: The draw Muhammad thing.

Liz: thanks tho

Brandon: draw muhammad thing?

Aaron: today is draw Muhammad day

Me: I'm not specifically targeting you, Patika. I'm talking about the group and what it stands for.

Brandon: ohh?

Brandon: i didnt know about this?

Me: Yeah. Well, in Islam it's disrespectful to draw Muhammad. Because a lot of people think that the extremists run the entire show, they're all drawing Muhhamad in varying disrespectful manners and posting it online.

Me: It's sad.

Doesn't anybody else feel like it's disrespectful? It's definitely hurtful. I know what that group states, but that doesn't make it right. I really do believe that there is at least one Muslim woman or man who does not threaten death or hatred on those who persecute her/him. Doesn't anyone care about them?

Shlickyshlickyshwack

My favorite word when I was fifteen was "sublime." I hadn't heard of the band yet, because I was still very CCM, but I probably would have been obsessed with them if I had.

There's something about being a freaky eccentric non-Taylor-Swift fifteen year old that makes you emotional, stoic, and very into the dark and mysterious world of words and poetry and tragedy. Yes. You are both emotional and stoic.

It's circumstantial.

So there we are.

When I was sixteen I had moved to a new state and was still very "into" vampires. Ohhhh yes. I was/am a Twilight person. Anyway, because I loved vampires I would wear my black and red rockstar clothes with my hair all crazy and awesome, and dark rings of eyeliner with bright red lipstick.

Like two weeks later girls started to do the eyeliner/bright-red-lipstick thing. Copying? Maybe. Was I a narcissistic bitch about it? A little.

When I was ten I was a severe Christian who hated Halloween and anything not God-related.

I'll be twenty in August.

I expect I'll love throwing outfits together and wearing clunky random jewelry and throwing my hair up in different decades. And I'll be writing, and watching (not to sound like a creepy stalker or anything). I think that I'd like to go to Italy or France next year. Africa is still a definite destination. And I'm coming to love Spain too.

I don't know what this post is about, really.

LOL, FER SHERIOUS YO.

The Russian Mafia Made Me Wear A Bow Tie Today

I love going through my grandparent's house. They've got stuff everywhere, in all the little drawers and nooks and crannies, and so much of it is just passed by every day.

So yeah, I rummage. My sister kept saying that I was so "nosy" but I kept replying that I'm just an explorer.

The baby boy is crying because he's tired--I kept trying to get him to go to sleep, but he just kept fighting it. Oh well. His head bothers me. You know how babies have a soft spot on the top of their heads? Well, if you didn't know that, they do. And it pulses.

Yeah.

Pulses.

Mainly when they're hungry or crying, but it's scary to suddenly look down and see this little baby's HEAD throbbing.

Lulz. I keep feeling like I'm writing about nothing. Sorry about that. Let's think of a good topic...

You know how you end something with someone? A relationship, a friendship, a something? And you feel bad about it, no matter how bitchy or slutty those people were to you?

And then you start seeing things that remind you of them. And you know that maybe not forever, but for a while, every time you see that thing, it will keep reminding you of them. And that bad, sick, sad feeling will eat at you until you distract yourself with something.

Like double chocolaty chip frappucinos from Starbucks. And ambulances. And "samson" by Regina Spektor. It's like the existence of these things are just...tainted.

I know that this just needs time to pass. I know that I'm not some downer; a depressed emo person. Does that mean I can't be that way once and a while?

Oooh Look! It's Done Itself!

You know that feeling you get when you sit down and stop procrastinating and actually get something done?

I AM EXPERIENCING IT.

It's smaller than the things that are larger and are screaming for more attention, but it's done and it's checked off my list and it pretty much did it itself.

It's like fuel for the bigger things, this feeling. And though I said it's small now...I have a feeling this little screenplay is gonna get really big really quick. Maybe. I raise my glass and prepare to clink; here's to hoping, and here's to dreading.

I have been ignoring the blog for a while now. I'm taking a note from my sister and eliminating the distractions, and not that you were a distraction, my dear feathery little blog, but everything else was and you got a little lost in the shuffle.

I'm off for an hour or two of sleep before I get up and go to a writer's meeting.

Yes, I am purposely trying to sound busy and professional and all importantly superior. A WRITER'S MEETING. It's not as big as the impression I'm giving you says it is. Well. Not yet.

What?

When I don't have a label anymore, what do I do?

Is there a difference between not knowing what to do and knowing there isn't anything for you to do?

Do I have to do something? Am I here in this world right now just to float along, or do I have a purpose? Do I need a purpose?

I feel like I have had purposes and I've given them up for nothing. I feel stagnant. And this isn't the first time. Sure, I'll find something to pre-occupy myself with for a while. But then this feeling creeps up on me again. It's not an emptiness, its more of a big oval of blank, beige, dullness. I've squandered away every chance I had and now I'm done.

I know, I should have hope in my future. But there is no hope, and that isn't an uncomfortable thought. It's just...there.

It sits here in my stomach and heart and head and waits for me to do something about it.

And yes, there is a pinkish red glow of a streak that is bleeding faintly across my beige board. But I describe it and it disappears again.

Someone help me?

No, it can't really be helped.

My fingers are cold and they ache.

he put me on a pedestal and stared without a word

So.

This guy that I dated for a few months down in South Carolina, we broke up when I moved back to IN. And then we started dating again, on the DL. (yes I just said that.)

And then recently we decided to put our status for the world to see on FB and people were like "oh you two are back together?" Yeah, we've been back together for a while now.

So its an LDR. (Long Distance Relationship)

And it's key in an LDR to TALK to one another. It's just how it works, the only way it CAN work. So I occasionally reach out to him and talk to him and try to get him to talk to me. Sometimes it works. But the point is, he never talks to me. Ever. This is the boy who says he's in love with me, that I'm his dream girl, that I'm everything he wants in life, and he says he's too busy with school to drop me a line.

So earlier today I gave him one last chance.

"Hey, why don't you ever contact me?"

"I'm busy with school."

"Yeah. I've got a friend who's in school, is a fire-fighter, and an EMT, and we still talk, even if it's a 'hey how are you?' So. Just break up with me, because I'm sick of this."

"Fine, if that's how you feel, let's break up."

So then.

Hours later I texted him. "I don't hate you and I don't want you to hate me. Its just that in an LDR you have to talk to the person and you never did. I would reach out, and you'd respond. Sometimes."

"I don't hate you either, but you hardly reached out. But I'm not going to get into an argument over it."

Does anyone else see why he majorly sucks? Or am I just too snippy and obsessive? Because, this isn't the first time. So it's got to be a problem with me, right?

And this is why I stay single.

This is Big

This is huge. Gargantuan.

I'm torn into so many pieces right now, but all of my pieces are racing towards the same finish line. I need help, I need people to be charitable, and I need answers, but I have it. I've got it. I can see it, I can see the buzz it creates, I can understand how it affects others. I'm both praying for a kind, wiser soul than mine to help guide me, and that no one finds out about it. But I know that this is such a good thing that I don't care how it gets created, just that it exists. So kind, wise soul, if you want to take this idea and mold it into something greater than my vision, do so. Because it's for good, and although I have realism in my scope, I love the idea of this big, huge, gargantuan blob of greatness taking form with smiles and ease and love from a community.

I know it's going to be hard and I'll have to work for it harder than I've ever worked (which isn't saying much because I was always lazy), harder than I've ever imagined I could work, but I'm going to do it. This isn't a passing fancy. This is what I was put here to do, I know it.

It's that same knowledge that leads a couple to stay a couple, they just know deep down in their core that they're meant to be together, at least for now.

I want to hear positive feedback. I want to hear people agreeing with me. I want this to come together smoothly. I want people to love it. I want people to volunteer for it. I want people to ask for it.

Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, especially if your children are involved. It's a sign of bravery, of strength, and it's a sign of how intelligent you really are.

I would go into detail, but that piece that's scared to death of someone jinxing it is overruling.

Just know that this is huge, and it's going to happen, despite the frowns and jeering laughs that I always hear. I'm positive on more than just that this will happen. I'm positive it will change the world.

Just because you're in pain doesn't mean that I don't still love you.

No, I don't know you, at least not very well. But that's enough to see everything that you are and can be. I wish I could love the ones I'm supposed to love as much as I love you.

I Figured It Out

"It" the elusive, misguided, horribly disfigured "it" is now clear. Controlled. Figured. Out.

For years I've been struggling with a decision in my life. This decision is huge, will affect me forever more.

And I finally made up my mind.

In the back of my head, I've always leaned on this, though I equally dismissed it as something that "wasn't right for me."

And actually, it's pretty perfect for me. So, without further ado, I tell you all (hi, handful! Keep reading!) what decision this is.

I have decided what the heck I'm going to do with my life. I know exactly what career I will have.

Am I telling you all what this is? No, because I've got to think and meditate on it all a bit more. Interview some people.

But I feel like everything is finally pulling itself together for me!

Quesadilla!

Don't you love saying that? QUESADILLA!!!

Anyway. I've got this one song that I want to know the lyrics to but can't figure it out. It's a 50's...wait. Nope. Lost it. Oh well.

That happens a lot to me.

So I'm sitting here, thinking about blogging, because it's so much better than vlogging when you look like crap or (in my case) tend to vlog when you just get out of the shower. But there are benefits to vlogging. You can look the camera in the (its?) eye, denote the right amount of seriousness, or maybe your sarcasm is better understood. A pause and rolling of the eyes is much better than a "..." or "*rolls eyes*." Blogging is faceless. I suppose that's why so many of us do it...but then again, everyone on this site posts a picture of themselves to go along with it. Maybe you're like me, then, and can't make all the wit and awesomeness in your brain seep through your mouth like a normal person. Mine has a direct route to my fingertips.

I'm trying not to type out smiley faces. Instead I'm going to just leave my writing the way it is, humorously, and ya'll can decide for yourselves if its funny or not. Because when you're writing and suddenly your character goes ":DDDD" at the end of their sentence, its really bad. Like, REALLY bad.

Anyway. I'm gonna go get dressed and go downstairs and make me a QUESADILLA!!!

Early

6:54am

I've been up since almost 1pm yesterday. For some weird reason, I have broken out in hives for the first time in nearly nine years. My room is ice cold, which has started me on a cold, I think. It could just be a side effect from the hives.

So I used to be this total night owl chick who would stay up all night and sleep all day, until I was actually up one morning and realized that I LIKE mornings. I am, surprisingly, a morning person. So the past two weeks or so have been awesome because I've been going to bed early (which did not harm my social networking/generally social life as much as I thought it would) and getting up early enough to enjoy the day. Until tonight.

That trip I went on to Liz's? She stays up until 3am, and sleeps 'till 11am. I would go to bed early all the time. Now, after I get home, and don't have the friend to talk to and stay up with until 3am, I stay up all night and into the morning. This is probably going to absolutely ruin my schedule.

Enough complaining, though. Look on the bright side!!! Or bright sides if there are more!! I can...well. I actually can't really come up with anything right now.

On a better note, completely not related to my weird hives/sleep rant, my sister is going to make me a layout thingymabobber!!!! WHOOOO!!!! I think. Is that what you meant, Amanda?

Vegetarian Sausage part 2

So I get on the bus, and of COURSE there are only aisle seats open because we didn't get to board earlier like we were supposed to because they combined buses or something. There was this really tall guy sitting in a seat near the front, who was dressed in black and listening to music so I think to myself "Oh, good, he won't talk to me, I'll sit with him!" So I do. And we're good for about two hours. I listen to music on my phone, I crochet a bit, I even got a few lines in in my Scribblebook. But then he had to go to the bathroom so I let the dude out and then he comes back. Around then I realized that my phone was a little low on battery, which meant that I needed to stop listening to music. And it turns out that Black Hoodie Boy was talkative.

To Black Hoodie Dude:

You are an idiot. First of all, do not open a conversation and then immediately delve into every tragedy and mishap you've had in your short 17 years on Earth. Yes, its sad that your family is all split up. Don't tell me about how you used to be teased at school so you dropped out. Secondly, when someone looks away (like out the window) and goes "oh, uh-huh. Cool. Right." that means that they don't want to talk about how your mom and stepdad raise smelly German Shepherds. Or about every dog you've liked that's died in some terrible, gruesome way. Thirdly, when you ask someone if they like to read and say you like to read too, do not explain EVERY detail about a book you like, including the ending. Especially if I said that I was interested in reading it. Fourthly and finally, dropping out of school makes you an idiot. The way you talked and didn't know what "naive" meant showed me that you are quite the sycophantic dipshit. I pity the father you never got to know and are now living with. Maybe he'll teach you how to be a tad more on the manly, intelligent side.

So then I got into the station and went outside. It was snowing. Chicago cabbies are nice, and thankfully I was talking with one who glared at the one who tried to approach me to sell me a fake broken gold ring. Thank you, Cabbie Man. He turned to me after that and said "you cannot talk to people like that, they are not right."

Thank you also to the guy who overheard me talking to Liz while she was lost and helped us find the right streets to turn on.

After all of that, we went to Liz's house. :D The next morning I was officially introduced to the Vegetarian Life. Liz has been a Vegetarian for the past eight months or so, and so we had vegetarian sausage (hence the title) and I had mini pancakes :D

The Vegetarian thing actually only lasted three days for me because I ate turkey.

Anyway, we rang in the New Year (an hour later than everyone else I knew because of the time difference) with awesome people, went to a Pocky store, and went to the Museum of Science and Industry.

Can I just say, that the first Bring It On was okay, but all these sequels are just...ridiculous.

Also, shoutout to my sister, Lipstick and Laundry. She's different from me but equally awesome, so check her out. And I love/am jealous of her layout, it's so funky and cool!