I love that I can watch youtube on my TV. Like, really. There's an hour long Halloween special with Tyler Oakley and Hannah Hart. And some other people. Daily Grace is dressed up by Not Impressed Makayla Maroney. It's great. This is pretty hilarious.
Anyway. I've done some serious thinking lately. I've talked about it tons of times, but now I'm actually taking steps to do it.
I hate my job. We all know that. Everyone knows that. The entire, ENTIRE reason I want to move to Sun Prairie is so I can transfer stores and keep my job and my profit sharing but get rid of my boss and assistant store leader. It's really sad that the only things I can talk to him about are football, wrestling, and video games. That's it. That's really pathetic. Anything else and I want to punch him in the face.
I'm not sure if or when I want to move. I do want to move because I'd be nice to get out of Point and do something new. It'd be nice because I can change my store and keep the company that doesn't totally suck balls.
I don't want to move because I don't have any money. I just got 1300 dollars today. And it's gone because of student loans. I need to get my finances stabilized before I move anywhere.
So we're not sure what to do. It's a dilemma. There's a lot of shit going on.
But. There are two things that are giving me slivers of light. One is entirely in my control. One is not.
The one that is not is that there is a chance, a small chance, that someone might come into our store and take my position so I can shift to a regular shift leader. This is out of my control entirely. But it's a sliver at the end of tunnel.
The one that IS in my control is that I'm going to try to start writing for our favorite humor-based list-formatted website. It's something that I've been thinking about for years, and I think I've mentioned it before. I've started the process of actually doing it. Obviously, it's not going to be overnight. I've been brainstorming pitch ideas and then I'm going to hit the workshop.
My hope, my dream, is that at some point maybe I can end up working and dealing with football. Or wrestling.
It's weird, because I've never had a goal before. I've never had any direction at all. I'm going to take my Sunday football spamming on facebook and turn it into a tumblr and (yet another) twitter account. I've been reading as much as I can about both football (not that I need to jam my brain with more shit) and reading more articles on Cracked. I'm trying to prep as much as possible before I dive in. And the funny thing is that I'm actually doing it. I'm actually taking steps to do it; not just talking about it.
So that's that. And we'll see what happens. My car is all winterized and amazing. I have some awesome stuff in my house and my cats are *knock on wood* getting along. I've been drinking a tad less lately... though I've been working more and my hours at work have been the epitome of erratic. Get this. Sunday 3a-8a. Monday 830a-3p. Tuesday 4a-2p. Wed 10a-7. Yeah, shit like that. Again.
So something's gotta give. We'll see what happens. The difference is that this time I'm actually coming up with ideas. Not just thinking about it. I'm making Sammy do it with me so I'm a little less likely to give up. It's helped.
Though, I may have just abandoned XPW. Again. What? It's not like my video games are going to play themselves. And I need to seriously purge the house because it looks like fuck. With the corner now being used by Sam and her stuff, I need to actually find places for things. This is dumb.
By the way, I just now, like a week ago, figured out your "I'll have my Wednesday in a cafe" tweet. Like, really. I'm an idiot. The sad part is that I've had that album for like, how many weeks now? Pathetic.
How are you, blog? I hope you had a good Thanksgiving.
I'm gonna go keep watching two hot girls and a gay on youtube on my TV. I could play video games and try to catch up but.. whatevs.
Heh, just wait until I set up my surround sound.
[boom]
Friday, November 30, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
An early post
Because something is bothering me.
It took a few days for it to sink in. I gotta admit, I'm a little slow sometimes.
I was more or less prepared for this. I figured that when his scheduled changed around that you would have little to no time for talking to me. I came to terms with that. I didn't like it, but I expected it, especially after the blow up we had last month. I understand the idea of getting completely wrapped up in whoever you're with because I do the same thing. I'd be a damn liar if I said that I didn't abandon other things in my life when I had a significant other I actually cared about.
I'd also be a damn liar if I said that I would not talk to any of my exes if the person I was with asked. I can't say with certainty either way to be honest. I've thought long and hard about it. If you had asked me to stop talking to Rora, I likely would have. Is that because of where Rora and I were in our friendship or because of the hold you had over me? I'm not sure. If someone asked me to stop talking to you because they didn't like it, can I say with any degree of accuracy that I would? No. One way or another, I can't answer that question because I'm not in that situation.
So, in that sense, I can't be angry about it. And I'm not. I'm not angry. I haven't, nor will I, cry. But I would be a damn liar if I said that this doesn't upset me to some degree. Here's why.
I feel like, and I've said this before, our friendship is stronger than it ever has been. Who knows why. But I've worked my ass off to stay somewhat mentally stable enough to continue being friends with you, and I think it's bullshit that just because someone says so, it has to all end randomly. I know what I say doesn't make a difference, and that's fine, but I have to get this off my chest before it really starts to get to me.
Perhaps, had I realized before now, that your call was a 'farewell', I could have figured something else out. This is Kenny all over again and that sucks for me. I understand his side, though, odd as that may seem. I was never crazy about you talking to any of your exes when we were together either. So, from his point of view, I get it. Though, this sounds like a guy who would get jealous of a blade of grass for caressing you too gently. But I still don't think it's fair. Of course I don't. Because I'm the one getting screwed out of something I worked so hard to maintain.
I know, and I'd come to terms a long time ago, that we're not going to be talking on the phone 3-4 times a week anymore. That's fine. No problem. I understand, or at least understood, that calls would be rare and texts would be maybe once a week. But I can't handle a full radio silence. I know that's what was asked of you and I know you'll oblige because you're you. I'd expect nothing less.
But... but maybe when you're driving to your sister's and you want to have a chat on the way down or back,
Or maybe when the boy is off fixing his car with a friend,
Or maybe when you're in a different country and feel like having a chat for awhile (after talking with your boyfriend, of course),
Or maybe even when you're poopin' and want someone to text...
Maybe you'll think of me?
Like I said, I'm not going to cry about it or anything because I expected it and I've been here before. It'd just be nice to get a word in edgewise if you ever find yourself with the time. I would appreciate it.
It took a few days for it to sink in. I gotta admit, I'm a little slow sometimes.
I was more or less prepared for this. I figured that when his scheduled changed around that you would have little to no time for talking to me. I came to terms with that. I didn't like it, but I expected it, especially after the blow up we had last month. I understand the idea of getting completely wrapped up in whoever you're with because I do the same thing. I'd be a damn liar if I said that I didn't abandon other things in my life when I had a significant other I actually cared about.
I'd also be a damn liar if I said that I would not talk to any of my exes if the person I was with asked. I can't say with certainty either way to be honest. I've thought long and hard about it. If you had asked me to stop talking to Rora, I likely would have. Is that because of where Rora and I were in our friendship or because of the hold you had over me? I'm not sure. If someone asked me to stop talking to you because they didn't like it, can I say with any degree of accuracy that I would? No. One way or another, I can't answer that question because I'm not in that situation.
So, in that sense, I can't be angry about it. And I'm not. I'm not angry. I haven't, nor will I, cry. But I would be a damn liar if I said that this doesn't upset me to some degree. Here's why.
I feel like, and I've said this before, our friendship is stronger than it ever has been. Who knows why. But I've worked my ass off to stay somewhat mentally stable enough to continue being friends with you, and I think it's bullshit that just because someone says so, it has to all end randomly. I know what I say doesn't make a difference, and that's fine, but I have to get this off my chest before it really starts to get to me.
Perhaps, had I realized before now, that your call was a 'farewell', I could have figured something else out. This is Kenny all over again and that sucks for me. I understand his side, though, odd as that may seem. I was never crazy about you talking to any of your exes when we were together either. So, from his point of view, I get it. Though, this sounds like a guy who would get jealous of a blade of grass for caressing you too gently. But I still don't think it's fair. Of course I don't. Because I'm the one getting screwed out of something I worked so hard to maintain.
I know, and I'd come to terms a long time ago, that we're not going to be talking on the phone 3-4 times a week anymore. That's fine. No problem. I understand, or at least understood, that calls would be rare and texts would be maybe once a week. But I can't handle a full radio silence. I know that's what was asked of you and I know you'll oblige because you're you. I'd expect nothing less.
But... but maybe when you're driving to your sister's and you want to have a chat on the way down or back,
Or maybe when the boy is off fixing his car with a friend,
Or maybe when you're in a different country and feel like having a chat for awhile (after talking with your boyfriend, of course),
Or maybe even when you're poopin' and want someone to text...
Maybe you'll think of me?
Like I said, I'm not going to cry about it or anything because I expected it and I've been here before. It'd just be nice to get a word in edgewise if you ever find yourself with the time. I would appreciate it.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
You're my Achilles heel
Welp, you know why I'm making this.
That's right. I haven't blogged in forever, it's 4am, and I'm fucking hammered.
Oh, and you're not answering my texts.
It's okay though. I know why. I'm not offended.
BUT I AM DRUNK WOO.
Remember how last year I made 40 blogs? This year I'll be lucky if I make 30.
I stopped blogging so much, though, because of the idea that I was on the phone talking to the only reason I updated this blog. Like, seriously. I update it because... well, because I can and god knows I have a lot to say. BUT WE'RE FRIENDS BLOG.
Apparently, I'm gonna type in caps.
WOO WOO WOO.
So, I'm beginning to have seconds thoughts about this living arrangement. It's not that I don't like Sam. It's just that I feel like she might be one of those people that I just can't live with. We're not compatible as roommates. I guess we'll see, though.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to play video games where timing is key when you're drunk? It's hard, man. Very hard.
How are you, blog. It's been awhile. Please, explain your texts. No, really. I'm curious. I want to laugh at you. =).
Oh, and I've been trying to work on Truth a little bit lately. I've been promoted to being in charge of XPW, but I'm going to try to take one of the next weeks off (and not play video games the whole time) and finish it. I know I've said that a lot. But with the new season, both myself and a special friend of mine are feeling pony-rejuvenated. I'll let you know when it's up because, let's be honest, it likely won't be til next year.
By the way, the passive-aggressive texts? Not for you, blog. For a stupid person who I'm not supposed to give a fuck about because she kind of sucks are being friends. What can I say? I can't give up on people. Not even the shitty ones, sometimes. But we've all seen that. Thank god for not-shitty-somewhat-mildly-awesome friends.
Yeah, I found out that Janice is super jealous all the time of her recluse-like girlfriend. This means that it makes sense that Sammy deletes her tweets. Also means I'm still fucking terrified of Janice. God help me if I ever find myself in Saint Cloud. (Though, I'd like to find myself there. It'd be fun! But... I'm not going alone. Please don't make me go alone.)
And, by the way, blog, you won by default. Zoe it is.
Oh, and, happy 100th post to me!
[boom]
That's right. I haven't blogged in forever, it's 4am, and I'm fucking hammered.
Oh, and you're not answering my texts.
It's okay though. I know why. I'm not offended.
BUT I AM DRUNK WOO.
Remember how last year I made 40 blogs? This year I'll be lucky if I make 30.
I stopped blogging so much, though, because of the idea that I was on the phone talking to the only reason I updated this blog. Like, seriously. I update it because... well, because I can and god knows I have a lot to say. BUT WE'RE FRIENDS BLOG.
Apparently, I'm gonna type in caps.
WOO WOO WOO.
So, I'm beginning to have seconds thoughts about this living arrangement. It's not that I don't like Sam. It's just that I feel like she might be one of those people that I just can't live with. We're not compatible as roommates. I guess we'll see, though.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to play video games where timing is key when you're drunk? It's hard, man. Very hard.
How are you, blog. It's been awhile. Please, explain your texts. No, really. I'm curious. I want to laugh at you. =).
Oh, and I've been trying to work on Truth a little bit lately. I've been promoted to being in charge of XPW, but I'm going to try to take one of the next weeks off (and not play video games the whole time) and finish it. I know I've said that a lot. But with the new season, both myself and a special friend of mine are feeling pony-rejuvenated. I'll let you know when it's up because, let's be honest, it likely won't be til next year.
By the way, the passive-aggressive texts? Not for you, blog. For a stupid person who I'm not supposed to give a fuck about because she kind of sucks are being friends. What can I say? I can't give up on people. Not even the shitty ones, sometimes. But we've all seen that. Thank god for not-shitty-somewhat-mildly-awesome friends.
Yeah, I found out that Janice is super jealous all the time of her recluse-like girlfriend. This means that it makes sense that Sammy deletes her tweets. Also means I'm still fucking terrified of Janice. God help me if I ever find myself in Saint Cloud. (Though, I'd like to find myself there. It'd be fun! But... I'm not going alone. Please don't make me go alone.)
And, by the way, blog, you won by default. Zoe it is.
Oh, and, happy 100th post to me!
[boom]
Sunday, October 21, 2012
You're drunk in your desire.
I'm bored as fuck and drunk.
Headline: I'm drunk again.
This time, though, I'm watching My Little Pony on Netflix. KK didn't say a word. Good. I would have thrown fists. I only take shit from people I really like. Not that I don't like her. She just hasn't earned the right to make fun of my shit.
My hands hurt like fuck.
I don't want to go to work on Monday.
Yes, I realize that today is still Saturday for me.
I was going to get a bunch of writing done today, but I honestly didn't feel like it. Well, that, and Twitter conversations happened. I can't focus on two kinds of conversations at once.
Goddamn needy internet.
The amount of which I'm attaching to women I have no chance with is somewhat worrying. Due to conversations within the last week, and especially today, I'm beginning to worry for my sanity.
Again.
The house keeps breaking. First the window, then the screen door. lolwut.
Headline: I'm still too poor to afford food. Awesome.
Beth gave me two, count 'em, two bottles of alcohol yesterday. Yay feeding my alcoholism and dependency on legal drugs!
I feel like it's starting to get out of control. But I haven't let it unravel me yet, blog. Please... please don't let me get out of control. I'm asking you, me, the higher power, fuck... I'm asking anything that can keep me on the right track. Please don't let me turn into my father. Please.
I'm begging.
Things to not look good for Homestar Runner.
Wait a second. Yes they do! I'm the BEST IN THE WORLD! I can do ANYTHING!
The time it takes for me to go from self-depreciating to overly cocky is amazing. I think I'm bipolar.
BEST IN THE WORLD.
go die in a fire.
BEST IN THE WORLD.
seriously you suck.
BEST.
no.
IN.
shut up.
THE.
seriously?
WORLD!
die.
I'm not sure what to believe anymore. But I'd rather be cocky and egotistical than self hating and insufferable.
Don't you agree?
I agree.
And you and me, blog? We're important. I can count on one hand, with fingers remaining, the amount of people I fully and undeniably trust.
And those are the important people.
And those are the people who allow me to live " Fidelitas usque ad Finem."
And that's why it's going to be my first tattoo.
Because I'm the best in the world.
Show me some respect.
[boom]
Headline: I'm drunk again.
This time, though, I'm watching My Little Pony on Netflix. KK didn't say a word. Good. I would have thrown fists. I only take shit from people I really like. Not that I don't like her. She just hasn't earned the right to make fun of my shit.
My hands hurt like fuck.
I don't want to go to work on Monday.
Yes, I realize that today is still Saturday for me.
I was going to get a bunch of writing done today, but I honestly didn't feel like it. Well, that, and Twitter conversations happened. I can't focus on two kinds of conversations at once.
Goddamn needy internet.
The amount of which I'm attaching to women I have no chance with is somewhat worrying. Due to conversations within the last week, and especially today, I'm beginning to worry for my sanity.
Again.
The house keeps breaking. First the window, then the screen door. lolwut.
Headline: I'm still too poor to afford food. Awesome.
Beth gave me two, count 'em, two bottles of alcohol yesterday. Yay feeding my alcoholism and dependency on legal drugs!
I feel like it's starting to get out of control. But I haven't let it unravel me yet, blog. Please... please don't let me get out of control. I'm asking you, me, the higher power, fuck... I'm asking anything that can keep me on the right track. Please don't let me turn into my father. Please.
I'm begging.
Things to not look good for Homestar Runner.
Wait a second. Yes they do! I'm the BEST IN THE WORLD! I can do ANYTHING!
The time it takes for me to go from self-depreciating to overly cocky is amazing. I think I'm bipolar.
BEST IN THE WORLD.
go die in a fire.
BEST IN THE WORLD.
seriously you suck.
BEST.
no.
IN.
shut up.
THE.
seriously?
WORLD!
die.
I'm not sure what to believe anymore. But I'd rather be cocky and egotistical than self hating and insufferable.
Don't you agree?
I agree.
And you and me, blog? We're important. I can count on one hand, with fingers remaining, the amount of people I fully and undeniably trust.
And those are the important people.
And those are the people who allow me to live " Fidelitas usque ad Finem."
And that's why it's going to be my first tattoo.
Because I'm the best in the world.
Show me some respect.
[boom]
Monday, October 8, 2012
She's a killer, she's my, cyanide sweet-tooth suicide
There is absolutely NO REASON why I chose that song for Brittyn's theme song in ACW (A storyline based e-fed that I'm in. I literally sign up and don't have to do anything!)
Anyway.
I'm not sure I have a lot to say. Also, I'm using my desktop keyboard right now and it's really loud and the keys are far apart and I kind of hate it. It's not as smooth as my other one. That's alright though. I have another one on the way. FO FREE.
(I love Amazon points.)
Like, seriously, my laptop is a desktop. The only thing that's missing is the tower. That reminds me, I really gotta factory reset that fucker one of these days. Thank god for external hard drives.
Headline: I'm drunk again.
Right then, down to business. The other day I promised a blag about someone and their lack of awesomeness in accordance to keeping people hooked.
The idea of being awesome is nothing more than a figment. It cannot be measured quantitatively. There is no scale in existence that can transfer pounds or parts per million in accordance with "awesomeness". To say that one's existence can be described as "awesome" is pandering to their self in the very essence of the word.
If one's condition, one's existence cannot be assumed as "awesome", then one's control also cannot be confirmed as "awesome".
And, really, what is control? Is control a measurement of the movements of others? How does one draw the line between voluntary and involuntary actions? This is a debatable topic as there are arguments for and against the idea of entirely involuntary actions.
Let's say we assume that all actions are voluntary, for the sake of argument. If all actions are voluntary, how could it be that we have involuntary actions for a fictitious measure of human existence? The actions fall on the shoulders of the person performing them, not from an outside measure. Now, to continue the argument, say that the person performing the actions is selfless enough to perform such actions for the benefit of someone else. Would it be right to assume that it is due to "awesomeness"?
No, no it would not.
It is due to the selflessness of the action-doer.
Awesomeness does not exist.
(I ran out of steam.)
Anyway, yeah, that was interesting. You're lucky I went philosophical and not Torch/Shaun Andrews. You get an RP from one of those two and you're buried. Remember that before you try to fight back. Not that you can. My argument is CLEARLY flawless.
Yeah, you ain't got shit.
[boom]
(I suppose you're decently cool. Maybe mildly awesome. MAYBE.)
Anyway.
I'm not sure I have a lot to say. Also, I'm using my desktop keyboard right now and it's really loud and the keys are far apart and I kind of hate it. It's not as smooth as my other one. That's alright though. I have another one on the way. FO FREE.
(I love Amazon points.)
Like, seriously, my laptop is a desktop. The only thing that's missing is the tower. That reminds me, I really gotta factory reset that fucker one of these days. Thank god for external hard drives.
Headline: I'm drunk again.
Right then, down to business. The other day I promised a blag about someone and their lack of awesomeness in accordance to keeping people hooked.
The idea of being awesome is nothing more than a figment. It cannot be measured quantitatively. There is no scale in existence that can transfer pounds or parts per million in accordance with "awesomeness". To say that one's existence can be described as "awesome" is pandering to their self in the very essence of the word.
If one's condition, one's existence cannot be assumed as "awesome", then one's control also cannot be confirmed as "awesome".
And, really, what is control? Is control a measurement of the movements of others? How does one draw the line between voluntary and involuntary actions? This is a debatable topic as there are arguments for and against the idea of entirely involuntary actions.
Let's say we assume that all actions are voluntary, for the sake of argument. If all actions are voluntary, how could it be that we have involuntary actions for a fictitious measure of human existence? The actions fall on the shoulders of the person performing them, not from an outside measure. Now, to continue the argument, say that the person performing the actions is selfless enough to perform such actions for the benefit of someone else. Would it be right to assume that it is due to "awesomeness"?
No, no it would not.
It is due to the selflessness of the action-doer.
Awesomeness does not exist.
(I ran out of steam.)
Anyway, yeah, that was interesting. You're lucky I went philosophical and not Torch/Shaun Andrews. You get an RP from one of those two and you're buried. Remember that before you try to fight back. Not that you can. My argument is CLEARLY flawless.
Yeah, you ain't got shit.
[boom]
(I suppose you're decently cool. Maybe mildly awesome. MAYBE.)
Friday, September 28, 2012
You surround me like oxygen
The other day, there was a video posted about Christmas, with an accompanying tweet about "what do YOU like about Christmas?"
My initial reaction was anger. Betrayal,almost. Why? Why would I feel betrayed by this... a simple question.
With an all too simple, slightly insane, and definitely full of demons, answer.
When I was little, I loved Christmas. Who didn't? Most kids adored the time. There was pretty lights and candy canes and snowmen and snowfights and hot cocoa and, of course, good old Santa Clause. And my parents always got me awesome presents. I can't think of a time when I was disappointed or mad. They always tried so hard to give me a great holiday, and they succeeded (At least, as much as my 24 year old brain can remember.)
And then, as I grew older... as I saw life and experienced it, I grew to dislike the holiday. Why? Why would I hate a holiday that I once adored?
Because it is a holiday based on the principle of Christmas cheer. It is about warmth and happiness and giving and togetherness. And while the rest of the world enjoyed their happy-go-lucky holiday and their time with loved ones...
I sat.
Alone.
Yes, that's a little over simplified and over-dramatic. I know. But this links in with another demon I face as a 24 year old.
I am scared, utterly terrified, of losing the people I care about the most.
How, you might be saying, do these things link together? There's no commonality.
Ah, but there is.
Once upon a time I was a kid who was growing up and loved life. I had friends. I played. I was good at school/undeniably smart for my age. I had fun. I was a bully of sorts. My dad was never home and my mom was incapable of even holding a phone to her ear. But I loved my mom (and still do, obviously) and I didn't mind. She was the binding force of my life. She made everything make sense. She was the one who mentored me.
And, like that, she was gone.
So it started when I was 12, albeit it was very faint. My father, bless his soul, did what he could. But sometimes when bad things happen, you turn to the only thing you know. In his case, that would be alcohol. A... a lot of alcohol. It wasn't a Saturday night unless he was gone, out drinking. He sort of gave up on life. His 12 year old daughter had boys sleeping over, usually two at a time, and he didn't care. He'd sign a check for us for dinner and take his leave. Usually to stumble back in the door a little after 2. Sometimes he wouldn't come home at all.
The first few months of this were hell. I literally had no one. Remember, I was the pseudo-bully in class. People respected me out of fear. I swore a lot. I was a Tuff Kid. Inside, I was just... I was devastated. I failed school that year. I had no friends to confide in. The boys liked me because I was Tuff and Kool like them. The girls... well, fear.
I didn't tell people my feelings. I refused. I would never be so weak and, to this day, it's a thing I hate doing. Though, you'd never know it.
How could I, a 12 year old, possibly vocalize to anyone in my pretentious Catholic school the fear and agony of waiting up until 3am on a Sunday just to make sure your dad comes home? How can you possibly instill the emotions of crying yourself to sleep because you've already lost one parent and you never, ever see the other? Save for maybe a few fleeting moments after school. How do you explain to other 12 year olds who's biggest concern is N'SYNC or BSB what it's like to constantly fear hearing a knock on the door, only to see an officer tell you you're an orphan.?
It was from that moment that I began to attach myself to people.
Wait, no. It was that moment that I refused to attach myself to people. I think it took me a year to get to 'clingy jerkoff that never leaves'.
It was, of course, at this point that I spent most of my time alone. I had nothing anymore. My dad was gone all the time. My mom was gone forever. My friends had families and other friends. I had me. That's it.
Every Christmas, every Thanksgiving, every anything... I was alone. Probably eating frozen pizza and watching cartoons. Or softcore porn. It's amazing what they'll show on Cinamax and HBO after midnight.
I can think of one time in the last eleven years when I was legitimately (thought quietly) excited about Christmas. My reasons were selfish, sure. But I was happy and I went with it. It's amazing how being around people I love and care about can do that.
I don't hate Thanksgiving because I can watch football and distract myself. I request to work every year on Christmas because everyone has families to go to. People to see. Massive amounts of food to eat. I work every year on Christmas because I have absolutely no reason not to. Otherwise I sit and home and wonder what the fuck has gone wrong in my life to reduce me to a brooding, clingy taintstick.
And then I answer myself with a blog at 3am when I was ready for bed four hours ago. I amaze myself.
So, yes, I felt betrayed. Because, once again, Christmas has left me fucked and alone.
Is it a selfish reaction? Of course. Humans are selfish by nature. Is it a logical reaction? Eh. I guess with everything I just laid out, maybe. Is it rational? Not really. But then again, with a mind like mine, I've gotta have some weaknesses, right?
But, yes. That's why I hate Christmas. Because I am emotionally unstable and clingy and I secretly hate being alone.
God help us if I revert back to the silent, brooding, loner that I once was. I am a perfect and normal human being at this point compared to that. (And, thank-you-very-much I think I have been doing mostly awesome lately.)
And just when YOU think you know what to expect, here's this blog. Have fun lifting it. It's heavy.
[boom]
My initial reaction was anger. Betrayal,almost. Why? Why would I feel betrayed by this... a simple question.
With an all too simple, slightly insane, and definitely full of demons, answer.
When I was little, I loved Christmas. Who didn't? Most kids adored the time. There was pretty lights and candy canes and snowmen and snowfights and hot cocoa and, of course, good old Santa Clause. And my parents always got me awesome presents. I can't think of a time when I was disappointed or mad. They always tried so hard to give me a great holiday, and they succeeded (At least, as much as my 24 year old brain can remember.)
And then, as I grew older... as I saw life and experienced it, I grew to dislike the holiday. Why? Why would I hate a holiday that I once adored?
Because it is a holiday based on the principle of Christmas cheer. It is about warmth and happiness and giving and togetherness. And while the rest of the world enjoyed their happy-go-lucky holiday and their time with loved ones...
I sat.
Alone.
Yes, that's a little over simplified and over-dramatic. I know. But this links in with another demon I face as a 24 year old.
I am scared, utterly terrified, of losing the people I care about the most.
How, you might be saying, do these things link together? There's no commonality.
Ah, but there is.
Once upon a time I was a kid who was growing up and loved life. I had friends. I played. I was good at school/undeniably smart for my age. I had fun. I was a bully of sorts. My dad was never home and my mom was incapable of even holding a phone to her ear. But I loved my mom (and still do, obviously) and I didn't mind. She was the binding force of my life. She made everything make sense. She was the one who mentored me.
And, like that, she was gone.
So it started when I was 12, albeit it was very faint. My father, bless his soul, did what he could. But sometimes when bad things happen, you turn to the only thing you know. In his case, that would be alcohol. A... a lot of alcohol. It wasn't a Saturday night unless he was gone, out drinking. He sort of gave up on life. His 12 year old daughter had boys sleeping over, usually two at a time, and he didn't care. He'd sign a check for us for dinner and take his leave. Usually to stumble back in the door a little after 2. Sometimes he wouldn't come home at all.
The first few months of this were hell. I literally had no one. Remember, I was the pseudo-bully in class. People respected me out of fear. I swore a lot. I was a Tuff Kid. Inside, I was just... I was devastated. I failed school that year. I had no friends to confide in. The boys liked me because I was Tuff and Kool like them. The girls... well, fear.
I didn't tell people my feelings. I refused. I would never be so weak and, to this day, it's a thing I hate doing. Though, you'd never know it.
How could I, a 12 year old, possibly vocalize to anyone in my pretentious Catholic school the fear and agony of waiting up until 3am on a Sunday just to make sure your dad comes home? How can you possibly instill the emotions of crying yourself to sleep because you've already lost one parent and you never, ever see the other? Save for maybe a few fleeting moments after school. How do you explain to other 12 year olds who's biggest concern is N'SYNC or BSB what it's like to constantly fear hearing a knock on the door, only to see an officer tell you you're an orphan.?
It was from that moment that I began to attach myself to people.
Wait, no. It was that moment that I refused to attach myself to people. I think it took me a year to get to 'clingy jerkoff that never leaves'.
It was, of course, at this point that I spent most of my time alone. I had nothing anymore. My dad was gone all the time. My mom was gone forever. My friends had families and other friends. I had me. That's it.
Every Christmas, every Thanksgiving, every anything... I was alone. Probably eating frozen pizza and watching cartoons. Or softcore porn. It's amazing what they'll show on Cinamax and HBO after midnight.
I can think of one time in the last eleven years when I was legitimately (thought quietly) excited about Christmas. My reasons were selfish, sure. But I was happy and I went with it. It's amazing how being around people I love and care about can do that.
I don't hate Thanksgiving because I can watch football and distract myself. I request to work every year on Christmas because everyone has families to go to. People to see. Massive amounts of food to eat. I work every year on Christmas because I have absolutely no reason not to. Otherwise I sit and home and wonder what the fuck has gone wrong in my life to reduce me to a brooding, clingy taintstick.
And then I answer myself with a blog at 3am when I was ready for bed four hours ago. I amaze myself.
So, yes, I felt betrayed. Because, once again, Christmas has left me fucked and alone.
Is it a selfish reaction? Of course. Humans are selfish by nature. Is it a logical reaction? Eh. I guess with everything I just laid out, maybe. Is it rational? Not really. But then again, with a mind like mine, I've gotta have some weaknesses, right?
But, yes. That's why I hate Christmas. Because I am emotionally unstable and clingy and I secretly hate being alone.
God help us if I revert back to the silent, brooding, loner that I once was. I am a perfect and normal human being at this point compared to that. (And, thank-you-very-much I think I have been doing mostly awesome lately.)
And just when YOU think you know what to expect, here's this blog. Have fun lifting it. It's heavy.
[boom]
Monday, September 10, 2012
I'm saying something that I should have never thought
Well, this weekend was interesting, now wasn't it?
I was going to call you, blog, but I figured you just spent an entire weekend with me getting black out drunk, punching, laughing, wrestling, and apparently undressing me. We have the weirdest of friendships.
So I didn't call. I could call tomorrow. But there's something I've gotta get off my chest. I'd like to say it to you in person, but unfortunately I had to work and you were hung over. Not the best time for talking.
Trust me, I would have stayed if I could have. Fuck work. I'd rather hang out with you.
Anyway. On to my cool words I have to say.
For what it's worth, I don't think you're a whore.
I want to explain myself because I don't feel that I actually justified why I said what I said. Not that I should justify it. It's kind of a shitty thing to say. Which is why I got punched in the face. (Which is going to be my new favorite story of all time).
I recall saying something about how you think you know exactly what the score is when it comes to my thoughts and feelings and you gave me that classic Emily look. That's not a fight I want to argue right now, but I wanted to bring it up because it kind of ties in.
Think back to when you asked me if it was weird that the thought of Josh having a girlfriend makes you a little jealous. Not jealous because you want to date him yourself, jealous because he's YOUR friend. It makes sense. A lot of people feel that way about the people closest to them. And Josh and you have a history in that you've known each other a long time. He's one of those "closest to you", if I'm not mistaken (and I'm not.)
So, take these things and put them together. I was angry because I drove two and a half hours down and here you are talking about all these people you wanted to invite. You know how I feel about Patrick. Habacuc is whatever to me. This new guy? Fuck that guy because I hate guys anyway.
I got jealous because I drove to see you and you just wanted to go see other people. I was hurt because, obviously you wouldn't have cared if I stayed or went. My vindictive, angry, tequila-driven side came out and the first thing I wanted to do was hurt you like I was hurt. I was angry so I wanted to make you angry. The easiest way to dig into you was, apparently, to call you a whore.
-I- wanted your attention. I don't get to see you and I wanted your attention and fuck all of those other guys because they can see you whenever they want to see you. I have to ask off work and drive for two and a half hours. Fuck those guys, this is my time.
And that totally makes me sound like... a fucking moron. It's not like I want a stronghold of every second of your day. I just don't get to see you often (until I move, hopefully) and I want to get in as much fun time with you as I can before I have to make that shitty drive all the way to a place I don't want to be. The drive home is the worst, despite my nerves on the drive down.
Much like your mild jealousy of Sammy (Didn't think I'd forget, did you?), I too am prone to being jealous.
I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
Also, I'm not so much apologizing for saying it as I am explaining it. Like you said, we're even. I just... I dunno. The look in your eyes when you said "You really think I'm a whore, don't you?" just kind of got to me. Probably because of all my Catholic guilt I have saved up. We were both too sleepy and drunk, though, for me to string together a coherent response.
At the risk of sounding like a tool, I am really thankful that we have the kind of friendship we have. Even if we fight, even if it's kind of a bad fight, we're still up until 7am drinking and laughing and having fun. It's kind of our thing. That's what we do. 7am is the shit, yo.
I don't know that I've ever been more comfortable in a friendship as I am in this one. It's kind of weird. I mean, yeah, Matt and I are close and have that bromance going on. Heather and Sam are cool. Sammy just fucking -gets it-. But I can hide one thing or another all day when it comes to them. You're the only one that I'm a totally open book to. At times, much to both of our dismay.
So thanks for putting up with me and letting me put up with you. It's crazy that some random cute girl in my philosophy classes turned out to be so important to me in the long run. That's pretty neat. Hopefully we'll be annoying, teasing, pestering, drinking with, laughing, secret-telling, and having fun with each other for a long time. Somehow, I'm not worried about that.
Wow! This got kind of stupid and sappy. That's retarded.
Let me end on these two notes:
1. If you don't know the song in the title, I'm going to be so sad at you.
2. You're every bit as funny, intelligent, and hot as Sammy is. And you know it. My little narcissist.
[boom]
P.S. I found this while fucking around online and, naturally, I thought of you.
I was going to call you, blog, but I figured you just spent an entire weekend with me getting black out drunk, punching, laughing, wrestling, and apparently undressing me. We have the weirdest of friendships.
So I didn't call. I could call tomorrow. But there's something I've gotta get off my chest. I'd like to say it to you in person, but unfortunately I had to work and you were hung over. Not the best time for talking.
Trust me, I would have stayed if I could have. Fuck work. I'd rather hang out with you.
Anyway. On to my cool words I have to say.
For what it's worth, I don't think you're a whore.
I want to explain myself because I don't feel that I actually justified why I said what I said. Not that I should justify it. It's kind of a shitty thing to say. Which is why I got punched in the face. (Which is going to be my new favorite story of all time).
I recall saying something about how you think you know exactly what the score is when it comes to my thoughts and feelings and you gave me that classic Emily look. That's not a fight I want to argue right now, but I wanted to bring it up because it kind of ties in.
Think back to when you asked me if it was weird that the thought of Josh having a girlfriend makes you a little jealous. Not jealous because you want to date him yourself, jealous because he's YOUR friend. It makes sense. A lot of people feel that way about the people closest to them. And Josh and you have a history in that you've known each other a long time. He's one of those "closest to you", if I'm not mistaken (and I'm not.)
So, take these things and put them together. I was angry because I drove two and a half hours down and here you are talking about all these people you wanted to invite. You know how I feel about Patrick. Habacuc is whatever to me. This new guy? Fuck that guy because I hate guys anyway.
I got jealous because I drove to see you and you just wanted to go see other people. I was hurt because, obviously you wouldn't have cared if I stayed or went. My vindictive, angry, tequila-driven side came out and the first thing I wanted to do was hurt you like I was hurt. I was angry so I wanted to make you angry. The easiest way to dig into you was, apparently, to call you a whore.
-I- wanted your attention. I don't get to see you and I wanted your attention and fuck all of those other guys because they can see you whenever they want to see you. I have to ask off work and drive for two and a half hours. Fuck those guys, this is my time.
And that totally makes me sound like... a fucking moron. It's not like I want a stronghold of every second of your day. I just don't get to see you often (until I move, hopefully) and I want to get in as much fun time with you as I can before I have to make that shitty drive all the way to a place I don't want to be. The drive home is the worst, despite my nerves on the drive down.
Much like your mild jealousy of Sammy (Didn't think I'd forget, did you?), I too am prone to being jealous.
I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
Also, I'm not so much apologizing for saying it as I am explaining it. Like you said, we're even. I just... I dunno. The look in your eyes when you said "You really think I'm a whore, don't you?" just kind of got to me. Probably because of all my Catholic guilt I have saved up. We were both too sleepy and drunk, though, for me to string together a coherent response.
At the risk of sounding like a tool, I am really thankful that we have the kind of friendship we have. Even if we fight, even if it's kind of a bad fight, we're still up until 7am drinking and laughing and having fun. It's kind of our thing. That's what we do. 7am is the shit, yo.
I don't know that I've ever been more comfortable in a friendship as I am in this one. It's kind of weird. I mean, yeah, Matt and I are close and have that bromance going on. Heather and Sam are cool. Sammy just fucking -gets it-. But I can hide one thing or another all day when it comes to them. You're the only one that I'm a totally open book to. At times, much to both of our dismay.
So thanks for putting up with me and letting me put up with you. It's crazy that some random cute girl in my philosophy classes turned out to be so important to me in the long run. That's pretty neat. Hopefully we'll be annoying, teasing, pestering, drinking with, laughing, secret-telling, and having fun with each other for a long time. Somehow, I'm not worried about that.
Wow! This got kind of stupid and sappy. That's retarded.
Let me end on these two notes:
1. If you don't know the song in the title, I'm going to be so sad at you.
2. You're every bit as funny, intelligent, and hot as Sammy is. And you know it. My little narcissist.
[boom]
P.S. I found this while fucking around online and, naturally, I thought of you.
Monday, September 3, 2012
I'm captivated by you, baby, like a fireworks show
I've finally stopped playing Madden for long enough to do some of my writing that I keep telling people I'm going to do.
So, naturally, I found myself here.
And I won't hear any guff about me liberally using the term "regularly scheduled" when it took almost a full month for a comment. So, hush you.
I'm so goddamn bored. I wish I had friends who would stay up with me and drink until obscene times in the morning. Is that... is that weird? Should I wish for that? I think it's kind of weird. But everyone knows that I'm a functional alcoholic.
It's alright. Next weekend I get to be among my people. Drunks. The whole lot of you.
I shouldn't be so excited.
I am.
My cats found a bunny slipper to play with. This humors me.
Tonight my friends and I were exchanging stories. They started out with a reason, but quickly dissolved into silly things like we do. They got me talking about some of my favorite sex memories.
I got distracted a lot.
What? Don't fucking grin at me like that, blog. I'm just being honest. And I heard roughly zero-point-zero complaints at the time. So, again I say, hush you.
Jesus, I can't believe I totally skipped the month of August. Sorry, August. I just like September more. Nothing personal.
(It's totally personal.)
I'm torn between staying sober and writing or getting drunk and writing. And let's be honest; there is no competition here.
Jesus I have problems.
Oh well!
I told Matt today that after bonuses I might try to get a job down in Madison and make the commute. Matt asked me why I wouldn't just move down there. I have no real good answer except I couldn't afford a place on my own and I think living with Josh and Kristin would be terrible in the long run. Maybe even the short run. I get irritated with them easily when I have to spend a lot of time with them. Not good.
On the other hand, I don't really want to wait until next summer to move. I really want to get out of here as soon as possible. I just don't know what to do. I would feel bad leaving Sam because she isn't ready, but I can't... I just can't.
When I walk up to the building, before clocking in, and I'm already getting angry. When I can feel my heart beat start to run up. When I can feel my blood pressure rising. When I can feel the headache creep up on me... I can't do it anymore.
What do I do? I can't just wait for things to fall in my lap so I can move down there, but I can't stay here. What to do, what to do?
Maybe I should forgo drinking and get some sleep.
We both know I won't.
Like Ted said, "Fuck."
When I actually think of where I want to be in my life, it gives me a headache. How in the fuck am I almost 24 and I have NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING.
Right. We're done with this. I'm done thinking about this right now. I'm going to go do anything else right now.
[boom]
So, naturally, I found myself here.
And I won't hear any guff about me liberally using the term "regularly scheduled" when it took almost a full month for a comment. So, hush you.
I'm so goddamn bored. I wish I had friends who would stay up with me and drink until obscene times in the morning. Is that... is that weird? Should I wish for that? I think it's kind of weird. But everyone knows that I'm a functional alcoholic.
It's alright. Next weekend I get to be among my people. Drunks. The whole lot of you.
I shouldn't be so excited.
I am.
My cats found a bunny slipper to play with. This humors me.
Tonight my friends and I were exchanging stories. They started out with a reason, but quickly dissolved into silly things like we do. They got me talking about some of my favorite sex memories.
I got distracted a lot.
What? Don't fucking grin at me like that, blog. I'm just being honest. And I heard roughly zero-point-zero complaints at the time. So, again I say, hush you.
Jesus, I can't believe I totally skipped the month of August. Sorry, August. I just like September more. Nothing personal.
(It's totally personal.)
I'm torn between staying sober and writing or getting drunk and writing. And let's be honest; there is no competition here.
Jesus I have problems.
Oh well!
I told Matt today that after bonuses I might try to get a job down in Madison and make the commute. Matt asked me why I wouldn't just move down there. I have no real good answer except I couldn't afford a place on my own and I think living with Josh and Kristin would be terrible in the long run. Maybe even the short run. I get irritated with them easily when I have to spend a lot of time with them. Not good.
On the other hand, I don't really want to wait until next summer to move. I really want to get out of here as soon as possible. I just don't know what to do. I would feel bad leaving Sam because she isn't ready, but I can't... I just can't.
When I walk up to the building, before clocking in, and I'm already getting angry. When I can feel my heart beat start to run up. When I can feel my blood pressure rising. When I can feel the headache creep up on me... I can't do it anymore.
What do I do? I can't just wait for things to fall in my lap so I can move down there, but I can't stay here. What to do, what to do?
Maybe I should forgo drinking and get some sleep.
We both know I won't.
Like Ted said, "Fuck."
When I actually think of where I want to be in my life, it gives me a headache. How in the fuck am I almost 24 and I have NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING.
Right. We're done with this. I'm done thinking about this right now. I'm going to go do anything else right now.
[boom]
Sunday, July 29, 2012
A beautiful somewhere, a place that I can share
Back to your regularly scheduled program that isn't weird writing.
Let's see. What do I have to say?
... Um... yeeeeeaaaahhh.
I'm getting a little miffed at my roommate. I mean, just a little. I can't remember the last time she did the dishes. She never takes out the garbage. I have the mail key so that's my job. She never cleans... anything. Ever.
I mean, yeah, sure, alright, a lot of the dishes are mine. I get it. I don't expect her to do the dishes all the time. I'll do them. I use them a little more often. Most of her dishes are a few bowls and coffee mugs. That's fine. But, like, dude, at least maybe help out once in awhile. I'm pretty sure the last time she did dishes was April or May. Not kidding.
She's never cleaned anything in the house. Except her coffee pot that was growing mold.
Sometimes she'll take out the bathroom garbage and put it in the kitchen garbage.
That's about where our story ends.
I dunno, dude. I'm tired. I work 8-9-10 hour days. I bust my ass. I'm hot and sweaty and uncomfortable and usually irritated and all I want to do is sit and have a beer. Or some rum. Or vodka. Alcoholic tendencies aside, I just like to rest for a bit. Check the internet. Maybe write a little. Yes, I usually have two to three days off a week. Yes, I could be doing something with that time aside from watching cartoons in my underwear until 4pm. I fully realize that. But... man, just grab the broom and sweep the kitchen once in awhile. It takes 30 seconds.
Gah. I'm being nitpicky.
I think the real problem is that I don't want to wait to move to Madison. I want to go now. Right now. And yes, part of it is because I know I can't co-exist with my Assistant Store Leader and, to an extent, my Store Leader.
Work is a joke.
In other news, that somewhat contradicts what I just said, I think I've reached a point where I'm pretty happy with life. Well, alright. I think I reached that point a few months ago. But it kind of dawned on me last night. I'm not really sad when I go to bed anymore. I don't fall asleep with the TV on because I need to, because I need a distraction anymore. I fall asleep on the couch mostly because of the habit I picked up when I had to separate the boys. It was easier to maintain harmony by falling asleep here than try to recreate it when going to sleep in a nice, comfy bed.
The only real problems in my life are the aforementioned work and, currently, a money issue that will hopefully be resolved soon. Part of that problem is that no one is getting hours at work. But that's what Biolife is for. Also, I have my savings account.
That I want filled up faster. Because I want to move. Fuck.
And it doesn't help because I want a billion tattoos like yesterday. I wonder if I can get my dad to buy them for me for my birthday. But, I WILL need new tires around that time. Dang. Decisions, decisions.
I suppose I do have three issues, because I'm still battling back and fourth about my cats. I almost posted a plea to Facebook today, but then I stopped myself. I guess five years is enough for me to not want to give either of them away. The problem is that I'll easily be shelling out at least 25 bucks a month to keep somewhat of a level of peace in the house. I guess I don't know what to do. I want time to make it better. And time, as always, heals all wounds. But... fuck, man. You know? It sucks. I think another part of the reason I want to move so badly is because I think a new setting will help. It will take away all territory issues that may or may not be happening. (Tristen seems to stick to the front of the house, Jasper in the back. Sometimes they're both in the living room, but it's weird.)
But that's about it. I need to finish writing Truth. I might even get Sammy to edit it. Unless I can find someone else with the time. But, let's be honest, it's hard to edit a story when you've got two boys at your side at all times. Heh.
Aaaaaanyway. I should go to bed.
Hahaha I'm not going to go to bed. I don't work for another eight hours. That's silly.
[boom]
Let's see. What do I have to say?
... Um... yeeeeeaaaahhh.
I'm getting a little miffed at my roommate. I mean, just a little. I can't remember the last time she did the dishes. She never takes out the garbage. I have the mail key so that's my job. She never cleans... anything. Ever.
I mean, yeah, sure, alright, a lot of the dishes are mine. I get it. I don't expect her to do the dishes all the time. I'll do them. I use them a little more often. Most of her dishes are a few bowls and coffee mugs. That's fine. But, like, dude, at least maybe help out once in awhile. I'm pretty sure the last time she did dishes was April or May. Not kidding.
She's never cleaned anything in the house. Except her coffee pot that was growing mold.
Sometimes she'll take out the bathroom garbage and put it in the kitchen garbage.
That's about where our story ends.
I dunno, dude. I'm tired. I work 8-9-10 hour days. I bust my ass. I'm hot and sweaty and uncomfortable and usually irritated and all I want to do is sit and have a beer. Or some rum. Or vodka. Alcoholic tendencies aside, I just like to rest for a bit. Check the internet. Maybe write a little. Yes, I usually have two to three days off a week. Yes, I could be doing something with that time aside from watching cartoons in my underwear until 4pm. I fully realize that. But... man, just grab the broom and sweep the kitchen once in awhile. It takes 30 seconds.
Gah. I'm being nitpicky.
I think the real problem is that I don't want to wait to move to Madison. I want to go now. Right now. And yes, part of it is because I know I can't co-exist with my Assistant Store Leader and, to an extent, my Store Leader.
Work is a joke.
In other news, that somewhat contradicts what I just said, I think I've reached a point where I'm pretty happy with life. Well, alright. I think I reached that point a few months ago. But it kind of dawned on me last night. I'm not really sad when I go to bed anymore. I don't fall asleep with the TV on because I need to, because I need a distraction anymore. I fall asleep on the couch mostly because of the habit I picked up when I had to separate the boys. It was easier to maintain harmony by falling asleep here than try to recreate it when going to sleep in a nice, comfy bed.
The only real problems in my life are the aforementioned work and, currently, a money issue that will hopefully be resolved soon. Part of that problem is that no one is getting hours at work. But that's what Biolife is for. Also, I have my savings account.
That I want filled up faster. Because I want to move. Fuck.
And it doesn't help because I want a billion tattoos like yesterday. I wonder if I can get my dad to buy them for me for my birthday. But, I WILL need new tires around that time. Dang. Decisions, decisions.
I suppose I do have three issues, because I'm still battling back and fourth about my cats. I almost posted a plea to Facebook today, but then I stopped myself. I guess five years is enough for me to not want to give either of them away. The problem is that I'll easily be shelling out at least 25 bucks a month to keep somewhat of a level of peace in the house. I guess I don't know what to do. I want time to make it better. And time, as always, heals all wounds. But... fuck, man. You know? It sucks. I think another part of the reason I want to move so badly is because I think a new setting will help. It will take away all territory issues that may or may not be happening. (Tristen seems to stick to the front of the house, Jasper in the back. Sometimes they're both in the living room, but it's weird.)
But that's about it. I need to finish writing Truth. I might even get Sammy to edit it. Unless I can find someone else with the time. But, let's be honest, it's hard to edit a story when you've got two boys at your side at all times. Heh.
Aaaaaanyway. I should go to bed.
Hahaha I'm not going to go to bed. I don't work for another eight hours. That's silly.
[boom]
Friday, July 13, 2012
And now for something completely different
Finally, it's a cold night out. I can feel the faint breeze touching the stable, warm summer air. A dying fire pops, struggling to keep it's flame dancing in front of me. The pop is barely heard. It's so commonplace. So familiar.
So safe.
I barely register that it's there. The dark canopy above my head has my attention. It's always there, it's a constant. It never leaves, it only changes it's view. I can see satellites moving gingerly across the abyss. I keep searching. Constellations, satellites, planes... it's not what I want. Then again, what do I want?
Under the blanket of darkness, it's hard to tell. It's always hard to tell. The night has a way of bringing things to my forefront, bringing things I never realized were there. It's all there. It's always there. It's just got a different way of presenting itself, of hiding itself.
My thoughts are the night sky. They're always the same, only at a different perspective.
There's a dog barking in the distance. Whatever it is, where ever it is, it's loud and annoying. I can tell it's small.
Not that it matters. It's mere noise, playing against my internal dialogues. So what it is? What is it in my mind that always finds it's way when it's dark? What it is about the dark that's so... liberating? I can feel myself. I can feel all the things that I hide during the day. All of it. It's why I fall asleep watching TV at night. My mind stays silent, consumed by whatever it is that I have playing. The couch is more my bed than my bed. That is until about 5am, when I wake up and drag myself away.
I'm still waiting. I can't find what I'm looking for.
My writing has stopped. Why? Why can't I produce the beautiful words and picturesque scenes like I once could? What's wrong with me? Am I broken? Is it a new found happiness and confidence that's causing a power outage of creativity? Why can't I have my cake and eat it too?
The fire pops back to a barely-there state of life. One lone flame flickers on the edge of a log. It's trying hard to keep up. It puts up a valiant fight and I find myself immersed in the dancing yellow light.
It can't fight hard enough.
Another small breeze. I close my eyes and let the air wash over me. It's refreshing. It's perfect. I could sleep out here.
I sometimes wonder if my mother's refusal to talk to my dad is because of me. To an extent, it hurts. To an extent, I want to punch her in the mouth. Then I realize that it doesn't matter. As much as it might sting, I push the thought away. I have no way of confirming this or denying it. There is just nothing.
The dog has finally stopped barking. The night is thick with undead silence. Undead because it's barely alive. Undead because it doesn't need to be there at all.
I rest my head back after taking another drink of vodka. Typical. I'm becoming my father in both humorous and terrifying ways. There's always a drink in my hand. I know some are talking. There are jokes, snide remarks. No one can label me but myself.
And sometimes, I don't know who I am.
But as surely as the night sky can strip me of my face, the face that few can see past... a face that I LET few see past, the night can also give strength. It gives hope, it gives desire. It gives me a chance.
A chance to appreciate where I am now compared to where I used to be. I used to be broken. I still am broken, but in a semi-functional kind of way. I'll never be perfect. I'll never not be somewhat paranoid. I don't know if I can ever trust more than one or two people fully. I'll always be the night sky. The same person, from a different perspective. For better, or for worse. Forever evolving, forever changing. Always trying to bring out the best in people. In me.
There it is.
There's my shooting star.
I don't even need the wish right now. I just want all to be golden in the sky. And, damnit, I'm going to have my golden sky.
[boom]
So safe.
I barely register that it's there. The dark canopy above my head has my attention. It's always there, it's a constant. It never leaves, it only changes it's view. I can see satellites moving gingerly across the abyss. I keep searching. Constellations, satellites, planes... it's not what I want. Then again, what do I want?
Under the blanket of darkness, it's hard to tell. It's always hard to tell. The night has a way of bringing things to my forefront, bringing things I never realized were there. It's all there. It's always there. It's just got a different way of presenting itself, of hiding itself.
My thoughts are the night sky. They're always the same, only at a different perspective.
There's a dog barking in the distance. Whatever it is, where ever it is, it's loud and annoying. I can tell it's small.
Not that it matters. It's mere noise, playing against my internal dialogues. So what it is? What is it in my mind that always finds it's way when it's dark? What it is about the dark that's so... liberating? I can feel myself. I can feel all the things that I hide during the day. All of it. It's why I fall asleep watching TV at night. My mind stays silent, consumed by whatever it is that I have playing. The couch is more my bed than my bed. That is until about 5am, when I wake up and drag myself away.
I'm still waiting. I can't find what I'm looking for.
My writing has stopped. Why? Why can't I produce the beautiful words and picturesque scenes like I once could? What's wrong with me? Am I broken? Is it a new found happiness and confidence that's causing a power outage of creativity? Why can't I have my cake and eat it too?
The fire pops back to a barely-there state of life. One lone flame flickers on the edge of a log. It's trying hard to keep up. It puts up a valiant fight and I find myself immersed in the dancing yellow light.
It can't fight hard enough.
Another small breeze. I close my eyes and let the air wash over me. It's refreshing. It's perfect. I could sleep out here.
I sometimes wonder if my mother's refusal to talk to my dad is because of me. To an extent, it hurts. To an extent, I want to punch her in the mouth. Then I realize that it doesn't matter. As much as it might sting, I push the thought away. I have no way of confirming this or denying it. There is just nothing.
The dog has finally stopped barking. The night is thick with undead silence. Undead because it's barely alive. Undead because it doesn't need to be there at all.
I rest my head back after taking another drink of vodka. Typical. I'm becoming my father in both humorous and terrifying ways. There's always a drink in my hand. I know some are talking. There are jokes, snide remarks. No one can label me but myself.
And sometimes, I don't know who I am.
But as surely as the night sky can strip me of my face, the face that few can see past... a face that I LET few see past, the night can also give strength. It gives hope, it gives desire. It gives me a chance.
A chance to appreciate where I am now compared to where I used to be. I used to be broken. I still am broken, but in a semi-functional kind of way. I'll never be perfect. I'll never not be somewhat paranoid. I don't know if I can ever trust more than one or two people fully. I'll always be the night sky. The same person, from a different perspective. For better, or for worse. Forever evolving, forever changing. Always trying to bring out the best in people. In me.
There it is.
There's my shooting star.
I don't even need the wish right now. I just want all to be golden in the sky. And, damnit, I'm going to have my golden sky.
[boom]
Friday, July 6, 2012
Who could love me? I am out of my mind.
Heeeyyy.
My eyes are tired. I have no idea how far into this I'm going to get.
Do they make kitty muzzles because jesus christ shut up Tristen. Seriously. I'm right fucking here. Stop being an asshole and we can be a family again. Sigh.
Anyway. So I did some thinking yesterday. It was kind of random, but I'll roll with it because I never have anything good to say anyway.
So, Sam and I went to see Ted. Which was awesome and I enjoy it a lot except for the part where it kind of skeeves me out. Though, let's be honest with each other blog, I ham it up because you seem to enjoy my uncomfortability. Is that a word? It fucking is now. Bam.
Anyway. So as we're walking out of the theatre, I see one of my old roommates/someone who used to be one of my closest friends. Now, in high school, she was kind of the weird one of the group. She wore big platform shoes, and she was like, 5'10" to begin with. She had Garfield on everything. She was just... interesting. She's the one that we called "God" because in Jr. High she delivered notes for the office and learned like, all of our schedules for 6th hour. Kind of weird.
But then she got her first boyfriend, who we all called Surfer Barbie because, well, that's what he looked like.
It's weird seeing her now. She's out-right slutted herself up. It didn't help that she went to school for computers and was the only girl in the field, so all the nerds were falling over her. She's not unattractive, so I can see how they would be confused.
But it got me to thinking about High School. I mean, it's just weird. Like, in High School... we don't know who we are. We're starting to figure it out. We THINK we know. We have no clue. I think back to who I was six years ago and who I am at this very moment, typing these tired words in a dimly lit living room. It's different. Believe it or not, I'm more confident. Stronger. A little more brave. I know, it sounds funny because I'm awkward and shy and... well, I guess I am kind of strong mentally but I'm stronger now. Now, if someone were to, say, try to string me along for three years and make my life a living hell, I don't know if I would let it happen. I also have a better support network and I'm pretty sure some people, blog, would be pretty keen on killing that kind of shit on the quickfast.
I honestly can't tell if I hate myself more or less. I think it's less. I think that my confidence links to it. Don't misunderstand me, I don't think I'm awesome... all the time. I have my faults and, for once, I actually know what they are.
It's just weird. Seeing how people change both inside and out. (I haven't changed all that much on the outside. At least I don't think? I haven't truly known my weight since I was a freshman in high school.)
It's weird to see people change, for better or worse. Luckily, I'm at a point in my life where I don't need or want shitty people around me. I can finally say "wow, yeah, you suck go away." And that's nice. I think that's the confidence thing, too. It's like, I know that I can make MORE friends and not have to settle for anyone and their backwards, retarded bullshit. It's pretty great.
This seems too positive a blog for me, though, so... uh... I....
I got nothin'. I mean, I could I guess? But really, what's the point in worrying about shit when I know everything's gonna work itself out.
My name is Torch, and my element is Loyalty. Also awesomeness. Cos I'm The Miz... and I'm... AWWWWWWWWEEEEESSSSSOOOMMME. (I would totally change that to your ringtone if I wasn't hellbent on never changing your ringtone ever. Not that I think you're awesome, blog, I'm just saying it fits your self-proclaimed awesomeness.)
Goodnight.
[boom]
My eyes are tired. I have no idea how far into this I'm going to get.
Do they make kitty muzzles because jesus christ shut up Tristen. Seriously. I'm right fucking here. Stop being an asshole and we can be a family again. Sigh.
Anyway. So I did some thinking yesterday. It was kind of random, but I'll roll with it because I never have anything good to say anyway.
So, Sam and I went to see Ted. Which was awesome and I enjoy it a lot except for the part where it kind of skeeves me out. Though, let's be honest with each other blog, I ham it up because you seem to enjoy my uncomfortability. Is that a word? It fucking is now. Bam.
Anyway. So as we're walking out of the theatre, I see one of my old roommates/someone who used to be one of my closest friends. Now, in high school, she was kind of the weird one of the group. She wore big platform shoes, and she was like, 5'10" to begin with. She had Garfield on everything. She was just... interesting. She's the one that we called "God" because in Jr. High she delivered notes for the office and learned like, all of our schedules for 6th hour. Kind of weird.
But then she got her first boyfriend, who we all called Surfer Barbie because, well, that's what he looked like.
It's weird seeing her now. She's out-right slutted herself up. It didn't help that she went to school for computers and was the only girl in the field, so all the nerds were falling over her. She's not unattractive, so I can see how they would be confused.
But it got me to thinking about High School. I mean, it's just weird. Like, in High School... we don't know who we are. We're starting to figure it out. We THINK we know. We have no clue. I think back to who I was six years ago and who I am at this very moment, typing these tired words in a dimly lit living room. It's different. Believe it or not, I'm more confident. Stronger. A little more brave. I know, it sounds funny because I'm awkward and shy and... well, I guess I am kind of strong mentally but I'm stronger now. Now, if someone were to, say, try to string me along for three years and make my life a living hell, I don't know if I would let it happen. I also have a better support network and I'm pretty sure some people, blog, would be pretty keen on killing that kind of shit on the quickfast.
I honestly can't tell if I hate myself more or less. I think it's less. I think that my confidence links to it. Don't misunderstand me, I don't think I'm awesome... all the time. I have my faults and, for once, I actually know what they are.
It's just weird. Seeing how people change both inside and out. (I haven't changed all that much on the outside. At least I don't think? I haven't truly known my weight since I was a freshman in high school.)
It's weird to see people change, for better or worse. Luckily, I'm at a point in my life where I don't need or want shitty people around me. I can finally say "wow, yeah, you suck go away." And that's nice. I think that's the confidence thing, too. It's like, I know that I can make MORE friends and not have to settle for anyone and their backwards, retarded bullshit. It's pretty great.
This seems too positive a blog for me, though, so... uh... I....
I got nothin'. I mean, I could I guess? But really, what's the point in worrying about shit when I know everything's gonna work itself out.
My name is Torch, and my element is Loyalty. Also awesomeness. Cos I'm The Miz... and I'm... AWWWWWWWWEEEEESSSSSOOOMMME. (I would totally change that to your ringtone if I wasn't hellbent on never changing your ringtone ever. Not that I think you're awesome, blog, I'm just saying it fits your self-proclaimed awesomeness.)
Goodnight.
[boom]
Friday, June 29, 2012
I won't let you, give up on a miracle
... When it might save you.
I'm the best Paramore fan. I WILL NOT TOLERATE BLASPHEMY ABOUT PARAMORE.
First, I had a dream that a coworker and I were walking around downtown with a blanket wrapped around us. The significance? The blanket played Call Me Maybe. Yep. That happened.
It's Rora's birthday today. Fuck that bitch.
I'm still pissed about Tumblr. But I'll one up you yet. And you'll never even know.
Truthbomb time.
Sam and I have a plan. It's not the plan I originally wanted, but it'll work.
So, blog, you turn 23 in one week. Well, officially it's 6 days. That is, if the 7th is 6 days away ;)
Anyway. I wanted to be in Madison by December. Why? Because it seems KK is going to be moving to California in December (probably). Alright. Cool. KK will be gone and I'll have my bonus check. It'll work.
Except Sam wants more time to plan. Alright, that works. So we set a goal. By the time you turn 24, blog, I want to be in Madison. That's a little longer than I want, but if there's one thing that I can be sure of... it's that it'll work out for the best. My gut has been wrong once in the last few months, and a handful of times in my entire life.
This is going to be one of the most important things in my life. For multiple reasons. My gut says so, my instinct says so.
So, I'll have a year to build up funds. Go to Biolife more often, start that savings account I wanted to start forever ago. Punch some numbers. Figure out what I can do a month, figure out my budget. I've kind of rooted around some apartments already, just to get an idea of what I'm looking at. Yes, Madison is a little more expensive than Point (yeah, no, just a little) but I think it'll work. I know, somehow, someway, it's gonna work.
My gut's not wrong. "It's not faith if, if you use your eyes."
Take that how you want, but shit's gonna get real interesting for me soon.
Say what you will, but give it a month... Hazel.
[boom]
And, no, that's not what this entire thing is about. I just think moving to Madison is going to be really good for me. I know it. Maybe this is just optimism... but I don't think so.
I'm the best Paramore fan. I WILL NOT TOLERATE BLASPHEMY ABOUT PARAMORE.
First, I had a dream that a coworker and I were walking around downtown with a blanket wrapped around us. The significance? The blanket played Call Me Maybe. Yep. That happened.
It's Rora's birthday today. Fuck that bitch.
I'm still pissed about Tumblr. But I'll one up you yet. And you'll never even know.
Truthbomb time.
Sam and I have a plan. It's not the plan I originally wanted, but it'll work.
So, blog, you turn 23 in one week. Well, officially it's 6 days. That is, if the 7th is 6 days away ;)
Anyway. I wanted to be in Madison by December. Why? Because it seems KK is going to be moving to California in December (probably). Alright. Cool. KK will be gone and I'll have my bonus check. It'll work.
Except Sam wants more time to plan. Alright, that works. So we set a goal. By the time you turn 24, blog, I want to be in Madison. That's a little longer than I want, but if there's one thing that I can be sure of... it's that it'll work out for the best. My gut has been wrong once in the last few months, and a handful of times in my entire life.
This is going to be one of the most important things in my life. For multiple reasons. My gut says so, my instinct says so.
So, I'll have a year to build up funds. Go to Biolife more often, start that savings account I wanted to start forever ago. Punch some numbers. Figure out what I can do a month, figure out my budget. I've kind of rooted around some apartments already, just to get an idea of what I'm looking at. Yes, Madison is a little more expensive than Point (yeah, no, just a little) but I think it'll work. I know, somehow, someway, it's gonna work.
My gut's not wrong. "It's not faith if, if you use your eyes."
Take that how you want, but shit's gonna get real interesting for me soon.
Say what you will, but give it a month... Hazel.
[boom]
And, no, that's not what this entire thing is about. I just think moving to Madison is going to be really good for me. I know it. Maybe this is just optimism... but I don't think so.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Turn this place into our private getaway
So, I've noticed something weird.
Is it possible that I have a friend on Twitter who will tweet at me, and then promptly delete any tweets with my mention? It seems that way. Yeah, I know, I'm paranoid about a lot of things. But... not this. Like, legit. I occasionally check my "ats" just to see if I've missed anything or if I missed an email or the like. I'll see an email pertaining to the person in question. Then check it. Respond if needed. And then... maybe a day, maybe an hour later, it's gone.
And it's not on her page either. It's just kind of weird. I don't quite understand it. Unless there's a significant other who would be jealous? Because that would be fucking stupid. We're in different states. Not gonna happen, lady. Please don't cut me.
Anyway. I don't want to go back to work. Like, at all. I'm sure it'll be fine... I hope. I have no idea what the status of the kitchen is going to be. But, onward and upward. Can't put it off forever. Or, I could, but I don't have the scratch to move to Madison yet.
I'm warm (because it's fucking hot in here) so I kind of took my hat off. Now it's sitting on the side of my head. I feel like T.I.
Cos I'm a baller. Shot caller. 20 inch blades. On the Impala.
They just blew up two cats in a microwave on ATHF. Now I remember why I hate this episode... and this show sometimes. It makes awesome background noise, though.
It's weird having spent so much time with people in a house because now I'm like "where are all the people?" But at the same time, I'm like dude, you need to be alone for awhile because you're not really an extrovert, now are you. It's weird. I don't always hate to be around people. I guess?
I still hate most people.
Alright, so, here's the last time (hopefully) I'm gonna talk about this.
Apparently Alyssa finally moved. At least that's what I gather from her Facebook. My initial reaction was a passive-aggressive "Goddamn finally" tweet. The other day, I guess Matt saw her in the store. My knee-jerk reaction was to say, and I literally said "What did that fucking cunt want?" Matt laughed. He didn't talk to her.
Why am I so irritated with her? Is it because I'm angry that she's being a raging cunt? Is it because things that she's said about me, about someone I'm very protective of, blog, are finally getting back to my ear holes? Is it because I know that I reacted like a jerk in the first place, and maybe this could have been avoided? Is it because I feel hurt because someone who was supposed to be my best friend practically abandoned everyone in her life so she could "start over"?
I guess I don't really know. But what I did tell a mutual friend of ours, if you can assume that she still has any friends, is that I don't know what I could possibly do at this point to repair the damage that's been done. And to be completely honest, with both myself and with you...
... I don't know if I'd want to if I did.
Let's take a little journey. It's called we're in a fucking amazing cabin for three nights, with a bunch of friends. It's called she's there along with the five of us that were already present. It's called, and I know this has been mentioned, but it would have been a totally different week.
There would have been a lot more tension. There wouldn't have been any fights because she's passive-aggressive and her main target, blog, probably wouldn't have started shit. Though, the wild card is that there was a metric fuckton of alcohol in the cabin and that's when shit would have hit the fan. It would have made for a pretty shitty week. I feel like my mouth would have started running eventually. It's no secret that with a little booze, my filter dissipates. There's all of one person that gets my non-filter on a daily basis, and I feel like she's earned it. (I say as if it's some prize. More like, last prize. More like, nerdular nerdance.) 99% of my friends haven't seen my completely unfiltered side. And with someone starting shit with my best friend... and with me already being so irritated with her, and with me having booze in my system...
It would have been bad. Everything happens for a reason, blog. And her not being there had a reason. So we could have fun. And we did. And I can't wait to do it again next year.
And that fucking bitch? Not invited. Unless she wants a shoe full of poop.
[boom]
Is it possible that I have a friend on Twitter who will tweet at me, and then promptly delete any tweets with my mention? It seems that way. Yeah, I know, I'm paranoid about a lot of things. But... not this. Like, legit. I occasionally check my "ats" just to see if I've missed anything or if I missed an email or the like. I'll see an email pertaining to the person in question. Then check it. Respond if needed. And then... maybe a day, maybe an hour later, it's gone.
And it's not on her page either. It's just kind of weird. I don't quite understand it. Unless there's a significant other who would be jealous? Because that would be fucking stupid. We're in different states. Not gonna happen, lady. Please don't cut me.
Anyway. I don't want to go back to work. Like, at all. I'm sure it'll be fine... I hope. I have no idea what the status of the kitchen is going to be. But, onward and upward. Can't put it off forever. Or, I could, but I don't have the scratch to move to Madison yet.
I'm warm (because it's fucking hot in here) so I kind of took my hat off. Now it's sitting on the side of my head. I feel like T.I.
Cos I'm a baller. Shot caller. 20 inch blades. On the Impala.
They just blew up two cats in a microwave on ATHF. Now I remember why I hate this episode... and this show sometimes. It makes awesome background noise, though.
It's weird having spent so much time with people in a house because now I'm like "where are all the people?" But at the same time, I'm like dude, you need to be alone for awhile because you're not really an extrovert, now are you. It's weird. I don't always hate to be around people. I guess?
I still hate most people.
Alright, so, here's the last time (hopefully) I'm gonna talk about this.
Apparently Alyssa finally moved. At least that's what I gather from her Facebook. My initial reaction was a passive-aggressive "Goddamn finally" tweet. The other day, I guess Matt saw her in the store. My knee-jerk reaction was to say, and I literally said "What did that fucking cunt want?" Matt laughed. He didn't talk to her.
Why am I so irritated with her? Is it because I'm angry that she's being a raging cunt? Is it because things that she's said about me, about someone I'm very protective of, blog, are finally getting back to my ear holes? Is it because I know that I reacted like a jerk in the first place, and maybe this could have been avoided? Is it because I feel hurt because someone who was supposed to be my best friend practically abandoned everyone in her life so she could "start over"?
I guess I don't really know. But what I did tell a mutual friend of ours, if you can assume that she still has any friends, is that I don't know what I could possibly do at this point to repair the damage that's been done. And to be completely honest, with both myself and with you...
... I don't know if I'd want to if I did.
Let's take a little journey. It's called we're in a fucking amazing cabin for three nights, with a bunch of friends. It's called she's there along with the five of us that were already present. It's called, and I know this has been mentioned, but it would have been a totally different week.
There would have been a lot more tension. There wouldn't have been any fights because she's passive-aggressive and her main target, blog, probably wouldn't have started shit. Though, the wild card is that there was a metric fuckton of alcohol in the cabin and that's when shit would have hit the fan. It would have made for a pretty shitty week. I feel like my mouth would have started running eventually. It's no secret that with a little booze, my filter dissipates. There's all of one person that gets my non-filter on a daily basis, and I feel like she's earned it. (I say as if it's some prize. More like, last prize. More like, nerdular nerdance.) 99% of my friends haven't seen my completely unfiltered side. And with someone starting shit with my best friend... and with me already being so irritated with her, and with me having booze in my system...
It would have been bad. Everything happens for a reason, blog. And her not being there had a reason. So we could have fun. And we did. And I can't wait to do it again next year.
And that fucking bitch? Not invited. Unless she wants a shoe full of poop.
[boom]
Friday, June 15, 2012
So leave it behind, cos we have a night to get away
Hey blog. How's it going?
I'm not sure why I'm updating. Maybe because I feel like writing. Maybe because I'm balls tired and it's almost 2am. Those seem like times when I usually do this.
I have the boys out. They've been out for about two hours now. They started to play a little rough, but that's the only problem I've had thus far. I'm very happy. I'm curious to see how the night plays out and if I shall have to separate them tomorrow when I go to work. Somehow, I don't see this being a problem.
I can't wait to take the litter box out of my room. Fucking litter EVERYWHERE. Goddamn cats.
I think the other cat is still hanging around the house. I swear I heard something crying outside tonight by the back door. I need to figure out what it's doing because I refuse to let my boys see this cat and them lose their shit at each other again. T'was a long week but I'm glad that the elements of harmony seem to be restored. (You would make so much fun of me if you knew what that was from. Haters gon' hate.)
I realized today that my roommate still owes me rent money for this month. That explains why I have less that I originally thought.
I'm pretty excited to get through these next two days. My vacation starts at 6pm on Saturday. It's going to be really annoying working on Saturday. I don't usually say this, but I hope it's kinda busy otherwise I'll be as useful as Veronica in a nunnery.
My ear itches. Real bad. I need a Q-Tip. I'm lazy.
Dude. Today I was so lazy, I almost gave up on grocery shopping. I had my cart with shit in it and as I was walking to the checkouts I was like "I... don't want to." and I had half a mind to just abandon ship and leave. But I didn't. I did, however, let the non-perishables sit on the floor for like, two hours. I don't know why. I was just super tired and lazy. But I didn't nap.
My life is exciting. I know this is enriching you, blog.
dealwithit.jpeg
I've been falling asleep on the couch a lot lately. I think the last week has been mostly to keep harmony in the house. I.E. keep the boys from crying. Most other times it's because I'm drunk, though. Huh. Curious indeed.
I've got a really good chunk written for this next chapter of Truth. But I needed to step away cos my brain stopped focusing. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you shouldn't force things. Just let them come naturally, you know?
......
... Giggity.
I feel like a douche. I have my mouse on but I keep using my touch pad and then I'll use the mouse and... yeah, kind of a tool.
Wanna play vijeo games. Should go to sleep. Wanna go up north. Super stoked about it. Super. Stoked. Srsly.
Anyway. I'm having a coughing fit and I'm tired as goddamn shit. So, you know.
I'm gonna see your face Sunday night/Monday morning/For five minutes cos you'll pass right the fuck out and I don't blame you, blog! Yay!
[boom]
I'm not sure why I'm updating. Maybe because I feel like writing. Maybe because I'm balls tired and it's almost 2am. Those seem like times when I usually do this.
I have the boys out. They've been out for about two hours now. They started to play a little rough, but that's the only problem I've had thus far. I'm very happy. I'm curious to see how the night plays out and if I shall have to separate them tomorrow when I go to work. Somehow, I don't see this being a problem.
I can't wait to take the litter box out of my room. Fucking litter EVERYWHERE. Goddamn cats.
I think the other cat is still hanging around the house. I swear I heard something crying outside tonight by the back door. I need to figure out what it's doing because I refuse to let my boys see this cat and them lose their shit at each other again. T'was a long week but I'm glad that the elements of harmony seem to be restored. (You would make so much fun of me if you knew what that was from. Haters gon' hate.)
I realized today that my roommate still owes me rent money for this month. That explains why I have less that I originally thought.
I'm pretty excited to get through these next two days. My vacation starts at 6pm on Saturday. It's going to be really annoying working on Saturday. I don't usually say this, but I hope it's kinda busy otherwise I'll be as useful as Veronica in a nunnery.
My ear itches. Real bad. I need a Q-Tip. I'm lazy.
Dude. Today I was so lazy, I almost gave up on grocery shopping. I had my cart with shit in it and as I was walking to the checkouts I was like "I... don't want to." and I had half a mind to just abandon ship and leave. But I didn't. I did, however, let the non-perishables sit on the floor for like, two hours. I don't know why. I was just super tired and lazy. But I didn't nap.
My life is exciting. I know this is enriching you, blog.
dealwithit.jpeg
I've been falling asleep on the couch a lot lately. I think the last week has been mostly to keep harmony in the house. I.E. keep the boys from crying. Most other times it's because I'm drunk, though. Huh. Curious indeed.
I've got a really good chunk written for this next chapter of Truth. But I needed to step away cos my brain stopped focusing. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you shouldn't force things. Just let them come naturally, you know?
......
... Giggity.
I feel like a douche. I have my mouse on but I keep using my touch pad and then I'll use the mouse and... yeah, kind of a tool.
Wanna play vijeo games. Should go to sleep. Wanna go up north. Super stoked about it. Super. Stoked. Srsly.
Anyway. I'm having a coughing fit and I'm tired as goddamn shit. So, you know.
I'm gonna see your face Sunday night/Monday morning/For five minutes cos you'll pass right the fuck out and I don't blame you, blog! Yay!
[boom]
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Good, good bye. Good, good night.
*surfaces and gasps for breath*
Dear lord, I think I almost drown. At least, I almost drown in... forgetting about you? Blogger? Yeah, I got nothing.
Anyway. Hey, hi. How's it going?
First thing's first, I always have a phone if Tumblr is unrespond-able. Tumblr is stupid. It's really just my second Twitter. And I almost typed "sexond" three fucking times. Freudian slip? Maybe! But probably not. I'm not really all horned up, you know? OR MAYBE I AM. I guess you just don't know.
Surprisingly, though, I am drinking. Again. Because I'm bored. And my roommate's gone. So, you know what I do. Drink and watch Mythbusters. Oh Kari. *swoon*
Anyway. Let's start where that last Tumblr post left off.
Sometimes, my friends are fucking crazy. I guess that I didn't realize that I was in a relationship for the last however many months since you moved away, blog. Apparently, we're in break up mode. And not like our break up. A dirty, awkward, hate-filled break up.
First of all, I do believe that I am not the one that is leaving. Sure, I acted like a dick at first. I admitted it and I apologized profusely for it (because I am full of Catholic-guilt). I also found out through a text. Well, sort of. You know the whole story. So yes, I acted like a jerk. And I acknowledge it and I am sorry about it. But apparently that means that I am completely cut out of her life. And you know what? That's fine. I really don't care anymore. Yes, for a time it upset me. Yes, it does kind of grate on my skin that she has no time for me or Sam but she has time for people she constantly bitches about. Yes, I am QUITE curious as to what she has to say behind my back since the thing she was best at was talking shit about everyone, with two exceptions, we knew. Though, maybe it's one exception. I've never heard her say anything bad about Kelli. Well, that's not true either. Though the things about Kelli were true (she's bad at her phone. Like, REALLY REALLY bad) and not nearly as venomous as the things she said about others.
But yes. Apparently it's awkward break up mode. I really don't even want her up north anymore because I think it's just going to be fucking weird. And I think she's going to be weird about me being fine with one of the people I've known the longest and my ex who happens to be my best friend. Sam thinks it will be okay. I think it will be awkward; very much so at first and only slightly for the rest of the weekend.
But whatever. I'm kind of over it.
It's humid in the house. It's pissing me off. I can't keep the doors open because all the bugs are like "LOL GO TOWARDS THE LIGHT TRY TO GET THROUGH THE SCREEN" and my cats are like "LOL FOOD" and I'm like STFU. /firstworldproblems
I'm so excited for cabin. Srsly.
My house is completely torn apart. Would it be weird to clean it at 11pm? Yeah. You're right. Kind of weird.
Captain Whiny McOrangeButt is being super annoying.
It's still hot in here.
I love my new car. A lot. She's pretty great. I even have Mooninites for her already. Silver, in honor of Jake (RIP)
I know I have a lot to say, but I just got a call, blog. So I'm not sure where it all went.
[boom?]
Dear lord, I think I almost drown. At least, I almost drown in... forgetting about you? Blogger? Yeah, I got nothing.
Anyway. Hey, hi. How's it going?
First thing's first, I always have a phone if Tumblr is unrespond-able. Tumblr is stupid. It's really just my second Twitter. And I almost typed "sexond" three fucking times. Freudian slip? Maybe! But probably not. I'm not really all horned up, you know? OR MAYBE I AM. I guess you just don't know.
Surprisingly, though, I am drinking. Again. Because I'm bored. And my roommate's gone. So, you know what I do. Drink and watch Mythbusters. Oh Kari. *swoon*
Anyway. Let's start where that last Tumblr post left off.
Sometimes, my friends are fucking crazy. I guess that I didn't realize that I was in a relationship for the last however many months since you moved away, blog. Apparently, we're in break up mode. And not like our break up. A dirty, awkward, hate-filled break up.
First of all, I do believe that I am not the one that is leaving. Sure, I acted like a dick at first. I admitted it and I apologized profusely for it (because I am full of Catholic-guilt). I also found out through a text. Well, sort of. You know the whole story. So yes, I acted like a jerk. And I acknowledge it and I am sorry about it. But apparently that means that I am completely cut out of her life. And you know what? That's fine. I really don't care anymore. Yes, for a time it upset me. Yes, it does kind of grate on my skin that she has no time for me or Sam but she has time for people she constantly bitches about. Yes, I am QUITE curious as to what she has to say behind my back since the thing she was best at was talking shit about everyone, with two exceptions, we knew. Though, maybe it's one exception. I've never heard her say anything bad about Kelli. Well, that's not true either. Though the things about Kelli were true (she's bad at her phone. Like, REALLY REALLY bad) and not nearly as venomous as the things she said about others.
But yes. Apparently it's awkward break up mode. I really don't even want her up north anymore because I think it's just going to be fucking weird. And I think she's going to be weird about me being fine with one of the people I've known the longest and my ex who happens to be my best friend. Sam thinks it will be okay. I think it will be awkward; very much so at first and only slightly for the rest of the weekend.
But whatever. I'm kind of over it.
It's humid in the house. It's pissing me off. I can't keep the doors open because all the bugs are like "LOL GO TOWARDS THE LIGHT TRY TO GET THROUGH THE SCREEN" and my cats are like "LOL FOOD" and I'm like STFU. /firstworldproblems
I'm so excited for cabin. Srsly.
My house is completely torn apart. Would it be weird to clean it at 11pm? Yeah. You're right. Kind of weird.
Captain Whiny McOrangeButt is being super annoying.
It's still hot in here.
I love my new car. A lot. She's pretty great. I even have Mooninites for her already. Silver, in honor of Jake (RIP)
I know I have a lot to say, but I just got a call, blog. So I'm not sure where it all went.
[boom?]
Monday, April 30, 2012
We got a whole lot of money but we still pay rent
'Cause you can't buy a house in Heaven.
This week has been trying as fuck, blog.
First, I've been working at least 9 hour shifts since last Tuesday. Finally have a day off tomorrow. It will be nice to just... not go to wor- OH WAIT. I have a meeting tomorrow. At least it's just an hour. And I can sit. And not work. And yell. I like yelling. Fuck those guys.
Where to start? Well, I guess I woke up Tuesday Morning, for a 2am cleaning shift, crying. I don't remember a whole lot of it. It started as a Trivia dream. Probably because I slept literally all of Monday away. All of it. Anyway, yeah, so I was having these Trivia dreams. Mostly about stones, not so much about the actual questions. Well, it turns out that we ended up in some club or something. Wherein I saw my brother, Casey. It was weird because, obviously, we're so close and we talk all the time. The next thing I know is Michele is there and she's trying to tell me that she cares about me and whatever. I tell her to fuck off because, shit, when has she ever been there for me? I have my parents and she's not one of them. Then, she pulls out these papers from my grade school. Papers that only parents would have. Papers that mean she was checking up on me. So, apparently, I started crying in my dream. And when my alarm when off, my face was a little wet.
It's weird. Because I honestly don't care about her or him. I have my dad and my aunts. I also have my friends. I don't need her. It's just odd.
Fast forwarding to today, I found out that one of my old coworker's son/our redbull vendor died in a pretty terrible car crash last night. It's just... like, woah. Like, I wasn't really friends with him he was just Nick. But I can't imagine how it would feel as a parent to have to bury your mid twenty-something year old son... who got into a car crash and burned alive. How... how could you DO that? I can't even imagine. It's just... really heavy.
Aaaand then there's Alyssa. We're pretty good friends. I'd say she's one of my best friends, actually. But she's been acting different. Strange, distant... yet she's putting on enough of a face to make me feel like I'm just imagining it. But then Kelli came to me and asked if I thought Alyssa was acting strange. So I know I'm not just imagining it. Things are different. Tonight I was angry. Well, I was hurt. But I was angry. Alright, I was listening to Breaking Ben's "Dear Agony" album so... there's that. Lemme tell ya, though, one of the best work outs I've had in a REALLY long time.
At this point, I'm just waiting for her to tell me why. I was so upset about it that Sam told me what was going on. Alyssa's been distancing herself because, apparently, she's going to move to Illinois in July and live with her sister. She almost bailed on going to the cabin. Sam talked her out of that. This put me into shock. Partially because... jesus, really? And partially because we were supposed to move to Madison next May. I still want to move to MadTown (Part of me wants to follow that with "if that's okay with you, blog" but I had the idea first. Now I just have more ammunition to do so because more of my friends will be in one place. And who knows, maybe Sam will move with me. She wants out of Point too.)
Anyway. The point is that I'm not supposed to know that. No one but Sam is. And I'll heed to that because Sam was only doing me a favor and saving me the sad. But it just... why not just tell me? It kind of hurts. We've always been open with each other, at least for the most part and now it's just. Fuck.
So between this, stupid fucking... I swear to christ, this new chick at work is dumber than a bag of inbred hammers. Working a lot, sexist truck drivers, general unhappiness and unsurities in my life... What am I supposed to do?
Which brings me to school. Since this semester is totally fucked beyond belief, because of my constant working, I'm going to withdraw from this semester and try again in the fall. I'm hoping that I can reduce my hours somehow, considering I pretty much have a for sure AFSL, and just... fucking work on graduating. I know I've got it somewhere in me. I fucked it up this semester. I am sorry. I am sorry to me because I thought I was good enough to do it. I'm not so sure I can. I'm going to try, though. I started out so strong, but I honestly think that working so much just fucked my shit. I'm so tired at all the wrong times. It's fucking 4am. I have no idea how I end up doing shit like this all the time. It sucks. I hate been so insomniatic all the time.
I might try to write more tomorrow. I know that I have enough rage in me to write a big ass fight. All I have to do now is remember. The problem is that I have no idea what was said when I wasn't in the room. So, maybe if I could get some info on that. I dunno. Every so often I get the need to call and ask these sorts of things, but you know how I don't like to be a bother, Blog. So a message would suffice. I mean, if that's okay with you. I just wanna get it right. I know that I don't remember a whole lot of what happened with my conversation, so I'm sure you don't either, but anything at all would be helpful.
I'm going to go watch Mythbusters until my eyes bleed. I don't want to go to bed yet. Though, since I more or less whined to you I don't know I'll have a huge problem. Maybe, though.
But what about you, Blog? Any new or fun things? You should really get on Facebook soon. I would enjoy talking with you. I need a friend, Blog. I feel like a fucking leper. (mumble)not sure how a blog site is gonna get on a social networking site...
[boom]
This week has been trying as fuck, blog.
First, I've been working at least 9 hour shifts since last Tuesday. Finally have a day off tomorrow. It will be nice to just... not go to wor- OH WAIT. I have a meeting tomorrow. At least it's just an hour. And I can sit. And not work. And yell. I like yelling. Fuck those guys.
Where to start? Well, I guess I woke up Tuesday Morning, for a 2am cleaning shift, crying. I don't remember a whole lot of it. It started as a Trivia dream. Probably because I slept literally all of Monday away. All of it. Anyway, yeah, so I was having these Trivia dreams. Mostly about stones, not so much about the actual questions. Well, it turns out that we ended up in some club or something. Wherein I saw my brother, Casey. It was weird because, obviously, we're so close and we talk all the time. The next thing I know is Michele is there and she's trying to tell me that she cares about me and whatever. I tell her to fuck off because, shit, when has she ever been there for me? I have my parents and she's not one of them. Then, she pulls out these papers from my grade school. Papers that only parents would have. Papers that mean she was checking up on me. So, apparently, I started crying in my dream. And when my alarm when off, my face was a little wet.
It's weird. Because I honestly don't care about her or him. I have my dad and my aunts. I also have my friends. I don't need her. It's just odd.
Fast forwarding to today, I found out that one of my old coworker's son/our redbull vendor died in a pretty terrible car crash last night. It's just... like, woah. Like, I wasn't really friends with him he was just Nick. But I can't imagine how it would feel as a parent to have to bury your mid twenty-something year old son... who got into a car crash and burned alive. How... how could you DO that? I can't even imagine. It's just... really heavy.
Aaaand then there's Alyssa. We're pretty good friends. I'd say she's one of my best friends, actually. But she's been acting different. Strange, distant... yet she's putting on enough of a face to make me feel like I'm just imagining it. But then Kelli came to me and asked if I thought Alyssa was acting strange. So I know I'm not just imagining it. Things are different. Tonight I was angry. Well, I was hurt. But I was angry. Alright, I was listening to Breaking Ben's "Dear Agony" album so... there's that. Lemme tell ya, though, one of the best work outs I've had in a REALLY long time.
At this point, I'm just waiting for her to tell me why. I was so upset about it that Sam told me what was going on. Alyssa's been distancing herself because, apparently, she's going to move to Illinois in July and live with her sister. She almost bailed on going to the cabin. Sam talked her out of that. This put me into shock. Partially because... jesus, really? And partially because we were supposed to move to Madison next May. I still want to move to MadTown (Part of me wants to follow that with "if that's okay with you, blog" but I had the idea first. Now I just have more ammunition to do so because more of my friends will be in one place. And who knows, maybe Sam will move with me. She wants out of Point too.)
Anyway. The point is that I'm not supposed to know that. No one but Sam is. And I'll heed to that because Sam was only doing me a favor and saving me the sad. But it just... why not just tell me? It kind of hurts. We've always been open with each other, at least for the most part and now it's just. Fuck.
So between this, stupid fucking... I swear to christ, this new chick at work is dumber than a bag of inbred hammers. Working a lot, sexist truck drivers, general unhappiness and unsurities in my life... What am I supposed to do?
Which brings me to school. Since this semester is totally fucked beyond belief, because of my constant working, I'm going to withdraw from this semester and try again in the fall. I'm hoping that I can reduce my hours somehow, considering I pretty much have a for sure AFSL, and just... fucking work on graduating. I know I've got it somewhere in me. I fucked it up this semester. I am sorry. I am sorry to me because I thought I was good enough to do it. I'm not so sure I can. I'm going to try, though. I started out so strong, but I honestly think that working so much just fucked my shit. I'm so tired at all the wrong times. It's fucking 4am. I have no idea how I end up doing shit like this all the time. It sucks. I hate been so insomniatic all the time.
I might try to write more tomorrow. I know that I have enough rage in me to write a big ass fight. All I have to do now is remember. The problem is that I have no idea what was said when I wasn't in the room. So, maybe if I could get some info on that. I dunno. Every so often I get the need to call and ask these sorts of things, but you know how I don't like to be a bother, Blog. So a message would suffice. I mean, if that's okay with you. I just wanna get it right. I know that I don't remember a whole lot of what happened with my conversation, so I'm sure you don't either, but anything at all would be helpful.
I'm going to go watch Mythbusters until my eyes bleed. I don't want to go to bed yet. Though, since I more or less whined to you I don't know I'll have a huge problem. Maybe, though.
But what about you, Blog? Any new or fun things? You should really get on Facebook soon. I would enjoy talking with you. I need a friend, Blog. I feel like a fucking leper. (mumble)not sure how a blog site is gonna get on a social networking site...
[boom]
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Lyrics, lyrics are no fun.
Holy shit blogger, what in the goddamn shitfuck did you do to your posting interface? I'm too drunk for this.
The purpose of this post is a place holder to remind myself that I need to do a proper post tomorrow. It's not every morning I awake from a dream, in which I am crying, to discover that I am crying real tears from my real eyeballs.
In fact, it's two mornings in 23 and a half years. So, I figure it's worth noting.
For now, I'm a little drunk and a lot trying to get my sleep schedule on track. I have emotions, blog, but I need to sleep. Real bad.
Real bad.
[bizzoom.]
The purpose of this post is a place holder to remind myself that I need to do a proper post tomorrow. It's not every morning I awake from a dream, in which I am crying, to discover that I am crying real tears from my real eyeballs.
In fact, it's two mornings in 23 and a half years. So, I figure it's worth noting.
For now, I'm a little drunk and a lot trying to get my sleep schedule on track. I have emotions, blog, but I need to sleep. Real bad.
Real bad.
[bizzoom.]
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
The best thing I can think to do right now...
... is leave it alone.
I feel like I post when I'm drunk kind of often. Whatever.
I changed the headlights in my car today. I feel like, ultra super lesbian. Besides the fact that I cut my thumb under the nail. That shit just hurts.
It's... raining? I don't fucking know.
My thumb hurts like shit. Did you know 'this' has the same letters as 'shit'? Crazy right?
My sleep schedule has been fucked beyond belief the last few days. GOOD THING TRIVIA IS THIS WEEKEND TO FIX THAT.
I'm not sure if my feelings are changing or I'm really diggin' my friend Sammy (the one I mentioned last time). I can't be sure it's real because I don't know how my feelings are towards other people. Those feelings, blog, seem to be getting better. But I'm not sure. I'm still a sap. And if we're 100% honest with ourselves, there's still a physical attraction. What? Sometimes blondes are fucking hot, alright? Calm yourself. Emotions have nothin' to do with fuckin'. Usually. WHAT? Don't look at me like that. <______<. NO JUDGING.
Then again, sometimes Cubans are hot. Or CauCubans, as I call her, because she looks white. Shocking, I know, I am attracted to a light skinned girl. Stop the presses.
This is frustrating. I just want it to make sense.
I hate school.
I hate work.
I'm getting the itch to play Skyrim again.
Drinking makes my problems go away. And that's fucking TERRIFYING.
I miss you, uh, blog. I wish I could whine to a real person and not a computer screen. Oh well. Such is life. I need to go figure out if I'm going to drink til 6am or try to sleep.
[boo-zzzzzzzzzzzz]
I feel like I post when I'm drunk kind of often. Whatever.
I changed the headlights in my car today. I feel like, ultra super lesbian. Besides the fact that I cut my thumb under the nail. That shit just hurts.
It's... raining? I don't fucking know.
My thumb hurts like shit. Did you know 'this' has the same letters as 'shit'? Crazy right?
My sleep schedule has been fucked beyond belief the last few days. GOOD THING TRIVIA IS THIS WEEKEND TO FIX THAT.
I'm not sure if my feelings are changing or I'm really diggin' my friend Sammy (the one I mentioned last time). I can't be sure it's real because I don't know how my feelings are towards other people. Those feelings, blog, seem to be getting better. But I'm not sure. I'm still a sap. And if we're 100% honest with ourselves, there's still a physical attraction. What? Sometimes blondes are fucking hot, alright? Calm yourself. Emotions have nothin' to do with fuckin'. Usually. WHAT? Don't look at me like that. <______<. NO JUDGING.
Then again, sometimes Cubans are hot. Or CauCubans, as I call her, because she looks white. Shocking, I know, I am attracted to a light skinned girl. Stop the presses.
This is frustrating. I just want it to make sense.
I hate school.
I hate work.
I'm getting the itch to play Skyrim again.
Drinking makes my problems go away. And that's fucking TERRIFYING.
I miss you, uh, blog. I wish I could whine to a real person and not a computer screen. Oh well. Such is life. I need to go figure out if I'm going to drink til 6am or try to sleep.
[boo-zzzzzzzzzzzz]
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
I hope you die, I hope we both die.
I was having a decent night, blog. And then I got cranky. I know, I know, hold your surprise in, please.
Actually, I had to laugh because goddamned seriously? Sometimes, you just have to laugh at life. It really is hilarious.
First thing's first. I'm going to be in school until I can ace four different Philosophy classes. That's right. I've fucked myself SO HARD that my GPA isn't even above a 2.5 so I can graduate. Fucking awesome. At this point, I'm so irritated with it that I just want to give up. Throw in the towel. No being great. No boots to asses. Just fucking up. Again.
I know, I know. "Don't be a Dante." But it's really frustrating. Like, a lot. I wish I could kick past me in the ass and tell me to go to class and stop being a fuck. All I can do now is try to fix it. And try to care.
But here's some shit that just... fucking made me laugh. So, I kind of have this following on DeviantArt, for reasons I will never ever understand. So I've made some acquaintances here and there. There's one girl I've been talking to a lot. We've been messaging each other back and fourth for a few weeks now. I won't lie, her profile implied that she was a lesbian and I was curious. Not because I wanted to get into a weird online dating thing, but because I wanted more sane lesbian friends. Okay, -A- sane lesbian friend.
So we're talking. She's cool. Lots of similar interests. She's from Florida. Rock on, that's cool. Trading stories about life and beliefs and just generally havin' a good time. She's pretty cool, I think to myself. Find out she's got a lady in her life. Alright, rock on. Not like I was going anywhere with it. Just kind of whatever, you know?
But then she follows me on Twitter (cos I mentioned it at some point). And then I look at her avatar. And then I can deny no longer that I am totally smitten with this chick. Seriously, she's pretty goddamned hot.
It's funny because... really? Seriously?
Life is funny. It mostly humors me. It irritates me in that I shouldn't be attracted to her at all. I mean, she's only 19. But that's my own irritation. Ah well. At least I have a friend, out of it. And, like I said, online dating is weird. I mean, I've DONE it before but it doesn't quite seem to work out. And Florida is kind of far away. So it's all good, right?
Right.
Fun fact: Sometimes, I drink vodka and I get disappointed. Not because it tastes bad. Nay nay. Vodka is fucking delicious. But the problem is that it's not strong enough. I have to have at least a glass halfway full of the stuff if I want a buzz by the third glass. I guess that drinking hundred proof rum all the time will do that.
I guess what I'm trying to say is you're going down.
"I'm going to drink you so far under the table that you will come out at an AA meeting in China." - Faye Whitaker.
I'm going to bed. I'm not tired but sad and I don't want to be alone and I don't know why. It's irritating. And sad. I've no one to talk to. #firstworldproblems #whiny
P.S. Is the Chorus to No Children by The Mountain Goats too mean of a song to set as Rora's ringtone? Hmm. I mean, it's not TRUE. At least, not literally. But I think it's funny. (To answer any questions, the lyrics in question are the title. Google it, I'm not making it up.)
[boom]
Actually, I had to laugh because goddamned seriously? Sometimes, you just have to laugh at life. It really is hilarious.
First thing's first. I'm going to be in school until I can ace four different Philosophy classes. That's right. I've fucked myself SO HARD that my GPA isn't even above a 2.5 so I can graduate. Fucking awesome. At this point, I'm so irritated with it that I just want to give up. Throw in the towel. No being great. No boots to asses. Just fucking up. Again.
I know, I know. "Don't be a Dante." But it's really frustrating. Like, a lot. I wish I could kick past me in the ass and tell me to go to class and stop being a fuck. All I can do now is try to fix it. And try to care.
But here's some shit that just... fucking made me laugh. So, I kind of have this following on DeviantArt, for reasons I will never ever understand. So I've made some acquaintances here and there. There's one girl I've been talking to a lot. We've been messaging each other back and fourth for a few weeks now. I won't lie, her profile implied that she was a lesbian and I was curious. Not because I wanted to get into a weird online dating thing, but because I wanted more sane lesbian friends. Okay, -A- sane lesbian friend.
So we're talking. She's cool. Lots of similar interests. She's from Florida. Rock on, that's cool. Trading stories about life and beliefs and just generally havin' a good time. She's pretty cool, I think to myself. Find out she's got a lady in her life. Alright, rock on. Not like I was going anywhere with it. Just kind of whatever, you know?
But then she follows me on Twitter (cos I mentioned it at some point). And then I look at her avatar. And then I can deny no longer that I am totally smitten with this chick. Seriously, she's pretty goddamned hot.
It's funny because... really? Seriously?
Life is funny. It mostly humors me. It irritates me in that I shouldn't be attracted to her at all. I mean, she's only 19. But that's my own irritation. Ah well. At least I have a friend, out of it. And, like I said, online dating is weird. I mean, I've DONE it before but it doesn't quite seem to work out. And Florida is kind of far away. So it's all good, right?
Right.
Fun fact: Sometimes, I drink vodka and I get disappointed. Not because it tastes bad. Nay nay. Vodka is fucking delicious. But the problem is that it's not strong enough. I have to have at least a glass halfway full of the stuff if I want a buzz by the third glass. I guess that drinking hundred proof rum all the time will do that.
I guess what I'm trying to say is you're going down.
"I'm going to drink you so far under the table that you will come out at an AA meeting in China." - Faye Whitaker.
I'm going to bed. I'm not tired but sad and I don't want to be alone and I don't know why. It's irritating. And sad. I've no one to talk to. #firstworldproblems #whiny
P.S. Is the Chorus to No Children by The Mountain Goats too mean of a song to set as Rora's ringtone? Hmm. I mean, it's not TRUE. At least, not literally. But I think it's funny. (To answer any questions, the lyrics in question are the title. Google it, I'm not making it up.)
[boom]
Thursday, April 5, 2012
When the moon fell in love with the sun...
... all was golden in the sky. All was golden when the day met the night.
That's easily one of the best lyrics I've heard in a long time. And it got me to rethink the tattoo I'm going to get for my parents. I should be pretty cool. Would it be weird to add that quote? I just... it's awesome. And it's perfect.
Anyway. Hi blog. It's probably like, what, 8am your time? (I speak future-time, you see. Maybe you're not the only one that can fuck with the space-time continuum. Remember that?)
My cats have been fucking hyper annoying lately. I literally almost threw the white one across the room the other day. I don't know what the issue is, but it's getting old. Fast.
So, there seems to be a lot of drama in my circle of friends. I'm going to start with not my problems but things I think are hilarious anyway.
It seems a former roommate of mine has moved back in with his parents. Why? Because his old roommate had 7 people living in their apartment. Seven. No kidding. Her, her youngest daughters (who, at the beginning, we're supposed to be living with their dad half the time), her oldest daughter and her... husband? I think they're working things out. Oh, and her granddaughter. Yep. All of them. In a two bedroom apartment. I'm not sure how. There is a clear division in the ranks. My current roommate is not on speaking terms with him. I think they're all batshit crazy and I'm going to sit in my house and pretend it's not happening because fuck those guys.
Oh. The best part is when Robbie said this. Her "friend" is Brett. The latter part is about Christian. "I hope my friend gets the help they really need and stop taking advice from someone who has no life and no ambition to get one."
I will respond to that with a quote of my own. "If irony were water, this apartment would be Lake Michigan right now." - Marten Reed
Anyway. I want to tell you a new story, blog, and I want you to tell me how you would feel.
Ahem. It's a little after ten at night. Your friend has just gotten off work. Bored, you text your friend and say "Hey. What's up?" Mere minutes later your friend responds. "Not much. Mind if I head over soon?" "Sure" you respond, excited to finally be doing SOMETHING today. A half hour later and your friend isn't here yet. Is something wrong? So you text, to make sure. "Hey, you good?" Your friend responds "Sorry. Been running around trying to get stuff ready. We're playing beer pong tonight* Sorry to be a dick and cancel last minute. You're welcome to come over!"
*The game was canceled the night prior and involved your friend and some coworkers.
Now tell me, blog, is this something you might be a little irritated at? Perhaps a little hurt as well. The fact that it took a half hour to find something better to do. Now, I admit, at least you got a text back, blog. It's better than not hearing anything at all. However, if I were you, blog, I would be irritated. A lesser man might find himself downright angry at all of this. Let's thank the powers that I, and you, are not lesser men. In fact, we're not men at all. Joke's on them.
But seriously I was fucking pissed.
And then crap for brains over here. Look, dude, I know that you're unsure of stuff. I know that you're 21 years old and you're not sure if you want to be with your boyfriend and you're definitely not sure if you want to move forever away so you can live with him. I get it. It's stressful. Relationships are like that. But... seriously? First of all, you're getting upset over petty shit. So what if he doesn't like soccer and doesn't want to learn? He doesn't ridicule you, doesn't complain about you watching it and playing it. Then so what? Fucking live with it.
And, it's funny, cos he had "such a bad feeling. something is going to go wrong." about tonight. And I just got a text saying "best night ever!!!"
I like helping people. I'm loyal to a fault. But seriously. Time to fly on your own, little birdie. Or I'ma push you out. And goddamnit quit texting me I haven't answered in three hours argh.
Anyway. Other than that, shit's alright. Work is utter hell lately, but we're doin'. Lots of fun to be had with the clique. (What? There are people I trust and like, and there are people I want to go away. The clique is the former.) I'm trying to stay on track with school. Trying to pay this semester. Trying to figure out why Greek Philosophy isn't offered in the fall oh god what am I supposed to do kdfrsdf.
Trivia is soon. I'm excited to have a weekend off. Maybe spend it with my most favorite people? Eh? EH?
Eh. I have a district meeting in the morning. Blog, does it hurt your GPA to withdraw from a class? There's no way I'm going to pass comm. No way. Seriously. I missed the midterm.
Also, today I was reminded of a note I wrote two years ago. It was a bunch of random facts about me. It's good to know that I'm still pretty much the same. Maybe I should make my next blog post like that? Not like it matters, blog. You know more about me than most anyone. I am le open book. Yes, le open book.
Yep. I should sleep.
I'm not tired. I want to write.
GODDAMNIT VINYL SLEEP.
EEP.
[boom]
That's easily one of the best lyrics I've heard in a long time. And it got me to rethink the tattoo I'm going to get for my parents. I should be pretty cool. Would it be weird to add that quote? I just... it's awesome. And it's perfect.
Anyway. Hi blog. It's probably like, what, 8am your time? (I speak future-time, you see. Maybe you're not the only one that can fuck with the space-time continuum. Remember that?)
My cats have been fucking hyper annoying lately. I literally almost threw the white one across the room the other day. I don't know what the issue is, but it's getting old. Fast.
So, there seems to be a lot of drama in my circle of friends. I'm going to start with not my problems but things I think are hilarious anyway.
It seems a former roommate of mine has moved back in with his parents. Why? Because his old roommate had 7 people living in their apartment. Seven. No kidding. Her, her youngest daughters (who, at the beginning, we're supposed to be living with their dad half the time), her oldest daughter and her... husband? I think they're working things out. Oh, and her granddaughter. Yep. All of them. In a two bedroom apartment. I'm not sure how. There is a clear division in the ranks. My current roommate is not on speaking terms with him. I think they're all batshit crazy and I'm going to sit in my house and pretend it's not happening because fuck those guys.
Oh. The best part is when Robbie said this. Her "friend" is Brett. The latter part is about Christian. "I hope my friend gets the help they really need and stop taking advice from someone who has no life and no ambition to get one."
I will respond to that with a quote of my own. "If irony were water, this apartment would be Lake Michigan right now." - Marten Reed
Anyway. I want to tell you a new story, blog, and I want you to tell me how you would feel.
Ahem. It's a little after ten at night. Your friend has just gotten off work. Bored, you text your friend and say "Hey. What's up?" Mere minutes later your friend responds. "Not much. Mind if I head over soon?" "Sure" you respond, excited to finally be doing SOMETHING today. A half hour later and your friend isn't here yet. Is something wrong? So you text, to make sure. "Hey, you good?" Your friend responds "Sorry. Been running around trying to get stuff ready. We're playing beer pong tonight* Sorry to be a dick and cancel last minute. You're welcome to come over!"
*The game was canceled the night prior and involved your friend and some coworkers.
Now tell me, blog, is this something you might be a little irritated at? Perhaps a little hurt as well. The fact that it took a half hour to find something better to do. Now, I admit, at least you got a text back, blog. It's better than not hearing anything at all. However, if I were you, blog, I would be irritated. A lesser man might find himself downright angry at all of this. Let's thank the powers that I, and you, are not lesser men. In fact, we're not men at all. Joke's on them.
But seriously I was fucking pissed.
And then crap for brains over here. Look, dude, I know that you're unsure of stuff. I know that you're 21 years old and you're not sure if you want to be with your boyfriend and you're definitely not sure if you want to move forever away so you can live with him. I get it. It's stressful. Relationships are like that. But... seriously? First of all, you're getting upset over petty shit. So what if he doesn't like soccer and doesn't want to learn? He doesn't ridicule you, doesn't complain about you watching it and playing it. Then so what? Fucking live with it.
And, it's funny, cos he had "such a bad feeling. something is going to go wrong." about tonight. And I just got a text saying "best night ever!!!"
I like helping people. I'm loyal to a fault. But seriously. Time to fly on your own, little birdie. Or I'ma push you out. And goddamnit quit texting me I haven't answered in three hours argh.
Anyway. Other than that, shit's alright. Work is utter hell lately, but we're doin'. Lots of fun to be had with the clique. (What? There are people I trust and like, and there are people I want to go away. The clique is the former.) I'm trying to stay on track with school. Trying to pay this semester. Trying to figure out why Greek Philosophy isn't offered in the fall oh god what am I supposed to do kdfrsdf.
Trivia is soon. I'm excited to have a weekend off. Maybe spend it with my most favorite people? Eh? EH?
Eh. I have a district meeting in the morning. Blog, does it hurt your GPA to withdraw from a class? There's no way I'm going to pass comm. No way. Seriously. I missed the midterm.
Also, today I was reminded of a note I wrote two years ago. It was a bunch of random facts about me. It's good to know that I'm still pretty much the same. Maybe I should make my next blog post like that? Not like it matters, blog. You know more about me than most anyone. I am le open book. Yes, le open book.
Yep. I should sleep.
I'm not tired. I want to write.
GODDAMNIT VINYL SLEEP.
EEP.
[boom]
Monday, March 26, 2012
Goodbye sad man, cos all this pain is getting old
Isn't it weird how things counteract so perfectly, sometimes?
For every good thing in your life, a bad. For every bad day, a good. Karma comes in threes, a bad deed nets you that. A good deed... gives you the promise of a bad day and when a bad day looms it's head you've gotta fight through it knowing there's a good one coming. Eventually.
Without the bad days, there's no concept of the good. Without knowing how it feels to be down on your luck, sad, angry, hurt, irritated, or depressed, you have no idea of what it's like to be mind-numbingly happy. There's no elation without depression. No happiness without hurt. Not even a health without a sick.
It's amazing to think of how things can change within even a 24 hour period.
For instance. One day, I could be at work and just... Murphy's Law. Everything goes wrong. Important jobs aren't done from the day before. Jobs that need to be done if I'm supposed to do my own properly. Busy days. More people in the store than should be legally allowable. I'm behind. Two hours behind, eventually. Everything is frustrating. Everything is building up. At one point, I feel like if I walked out the doors and never came back, it would be a suitable way to deal with how utterly livid I am. Threaten to stab someone for cracking a joke. I'm not in the mood. Not like there's any people from my store there, anyway. My frustration builds in the back of my throat. I either am going to punch something (which didn't help the first three times), yell at someone (which didn't help, it just made me feel worse), or start crying because there's no other outlet. Grit my teeth, push harder. Work faster. Say nothing to anyone. Just work. Head down.
Go home. I don't work early (well, not at 2am) the next day. Try to see friends because I'm still seething at home. Can't get a nap because the neighbors are basically yelling in the open window. Get frustrated. Plans fall through. Pretend I don't care. Brush it all off. Text the best friend. Doesn't answer. Convince myself it's not because she's ignoring me. It's not because of some bullshit "protection" reason. Just bad at phones sometimes. In the back of my mind, I can't convince myself of anything. I'm trying. I'm not being ignored. No one answers their phone. I need a drink. I need a smoke. No. Don't do either. Just kidding. Try to go for a drive. Driving knee feels like someone's pounding a spike into it. Decide to go home. Go to bed angry and hurt. Go home feeling like shit, feeling abandoned by everyone close to me. I never said it was logical. Fuck everyone. I've gone it alone before, I can do it again. I don't need anyone. Expect tomorrow to be full of fuck.
Tomorrow is not full of fuck.
Tomorrow is amazing. Tomorrow goes by incredibly quickly. Tomorrow has a great crew, full of pseudo-sexual tension, and a trainee that listens. It's a gorgeous day. I'm not tired after a 10 hour day. Everything is marvelous. Walk outside at 4 o clock and feel the sun warm my skin. It's fantastic. The heat is great.
See all the connections? How a dark day, a day where I hated almost everyone, turns into a good day. I don't hate everyone. It was a day that I was just... frustrated. When things start going wrong, I get frustration and every mole hill is a mountain. Sunday was the exact, near perfect opposite.
I feel bad because I feel all these.. feelings when I'm mad. Well, some of them I feel while not mad but it's exaggerated when I'm angry. Angry and hurt. A story of my life. Paramore's song Miracle starts like this "I've gone for too long, living like I'm not alive, so I'm gonna start over tonight." From the same song, she also says "I just want, no, I just need this pain to end right... here." (I need to add this song to my favorites.)
I don't know how to start over, but I know how to get better. And correct me if I'm wrong, blog, but I feel that I have. A little at least. My days are perfect, but they're my days to have. Besides, no one sees those days anymore because I live with a ghost and I'm at the stage where I don't want to bother anyone. Again. I wish I could stop feeling like that. I know it's not true. I know I could call lots of people if I was sad. But I don't. Maybe I'm a bit stubborn. Maybe I want to protect my friends, too.
Take the good with the bad. Good start.
Everything happens for a reason. It's not faith if, if you use your eyes. (More Miracle quotes)
One more year. Just one.
[boom]
For every good thing in your life, a bad. For every bad day, a good. Karma comes in threes, a bad deed nets you that. A good deed... gives you the promise of a bad day and when a bad day looms it's head you've gotta fight through it knowing there's a good one coming. Eventually.
Without the bad days, there's no concept of the good. Without knowing how it feels to be down on your luck, sad, angry, hurt, irritated, or depressed, you have no idea of what it's like to be mind-numbingly happy. There's no elation without depression. No happiness without hurt. Not even a health without a sick.
It's amazing to think of how things can change within even a 24 hour period.
For instance. One day, I could be at work and just... Murphy's Law. Everything goes wrong. Important jobs aren't done from the day before. Jobs that need to be done if I'm supposed to do my own properly. Busy days. More people in the store than should be legally allowable. I'm behind. Two hours behind, eventually. Everything is frustrating. Everything is building up. At one point, I feel like if I walked out the doors and never came back, it would be a suitable way to deal with how utterly livid I am. Threaten to stab someone for cracking a joke. I'm not in the mood. Not like there's any people from my store there, anyway. My frustration builds in the back of my throat. I either am going to punch something (which didn't help the first three times), yell at someone (which didn't help, it just made me feel worse), or start crying because there's no other outlet. Grit my teeth, push harder. Work faster. Say nothing to anyone. Just work. Head down.
Go home. I don't work early (well, not at 2am) the next day. Try to see friends because I'm still seething at home. Can't get a nap because the neighbors are basically yelling in the open window. Get frustrated. Plans fall through. Pretend I don't care. Brush it all off. Text the best friend. Doesn't answer. Convince myself it's not because she's ignoring me. It's not because of some bullshit "protection" reason. Just bad at phones sometimes. In the back of my mind, I can't convince myself of anything. I'm trying. I'm not being ignored. No one answers their phone. I need a drink. I need a smoke. No. Don't do either. Just kidding. Try to go for a drive. Driving knee feels like someone's pounding a spike into it. Decide to go home. Go to bed angry and hurt. Go home feeling like shit, feeling abandoned by everyone close to me. I never said it was logical. Fuck everyone. I've gone it alone before, I can do it again. I don't need anyone. Expect tomorrow to be full of fuck.
Tomorrow is not full of fuck.
Tomorrow is amazing. Tomorrow goes by incredibly quickly. Tomorrow has a great crew, full of pseudo-sexual tension, and a trainee that listens. It's a gorgeous day. I'm not tired after a 10 hour day. Everything is marvelous. Walk outside at 4 o clock and feel the sun warm my skin. It's fantastic. The heat is great.
See all the connections? How a dark day, a day where I hated almost everyone, turns into a good day. I don't hate everyone. It was a day that I was just... frustrated. When things start going wrong, I get frustration and every mole hill is a mountain. Sunday was the exact, near perfect opposite.
I feel bad because I feel all these.. feelings when I'm mad. Well, some of them I feel while not mad but it's exaggerated when I'm angry. Angry and hurt. A story of my life. Paramore's song Miracle starts like this "I've gone for too long, living like I'm not alive, so I'm gonna start over tonight." From the same song, she also says "I just want, no, I just need this pain to end right... here." (I need to add this song to my favorites.)
I don't know how to start over, but I know how to get better. And correct me if I'm wrong, blog, but I feel that I have. A little at least. My days are perfect, but they're my days to have. Besides, no one sees those days anymore because I live with a ghost and I'm at the stage where I don't want to bother anyone. Again. I wish I could stop feeling like that. I know it's not true. I know I could call lots of people if I was sad. But I don't. Maybe I'm a bit stubborn. Maybe I want to protect my friends, too.
Take the good with the bad. Good start.
Everything happens for a reason. It's not faith if, if you use your eyes. (More Miracle quotes)
One more year. Just one.
[boom]
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Oh I swear to ya, I'll be there for ya, this is not a drive-by
Holy crap I actually finished a new chapter. It's only been a month since I've posted something. Probably closer to two since I posted an actual chapter.
Still working on the tattoo idea. I'm close to coming up with something I really like. You know that feeling when you know you're almost on the brink of being a genus but you're not QUITE there. So close, yet so far away. Almost...
I bought some badass speakers the other day. Two actual speakers and a subwoofer. The sound is great. And it plugs into anything as it's literally just a headphone jack at the end. iPods, Zunes, Blackberrys, Andriods, Computers... anything. It's awesome. My regular speakers can't even handle this shit. Definitely don't like using the stock speakers anymore. I am a tech-whore.
I really don't want to go to work for ten hours tonight. At all. It's not even the working for ten hours part. I'm mostly desensitized to that. It's that I have to work until 2am tonight. Then I have tomorrow "off". And then I work at 2am on Saturday. So, yeah, I have about 24 hours off. The most awkward 24 hours ever.
I hate my job sometimes.
I just keep saying, one more year. That's all I have left. Then I can either move away or get a new job. I just need to get my degree.
I just need motivation to get my degree.
I just need to remind myself that I need motivation to get my degree so I can get a new job/store.
Easy, right?
Just one more year. One more.
[boom]
Still working on the tattoo idea. I'm close to coming up with something I really like. You know that feeling when you know you're almost on the brink of being a genus but you're not QUITE there. So close, yet so far away. Almost...
I bought some badass speakers the other day. Two actual speakers and a subwoofer. The sound is great. And it plugs into anything as it's literally just a headphone jack at the end. iPods, Zunes, Blackberrys, Andriods, Computers... anything. It's awesome. My regular speakers can't even handle this shit. Definitely don't like using the stock speakers anymore. I am a tech-whore.
I really don't want to go to work for ten hours tonight. At all. It's not even the working for ten hours part. I'm mostly desensitized to that. It's that I have to work until 2am tonight. Then I have tomorrow "off". And then I work at 2am on Saturday. So, yeah, I have about 24 hours off. The most awkward 24 hours ever.
I hate my job sometimes.
I just keep saying, one more year. That's all I have left. Then I can either move away or get a new job. I just need to get my degree.
I just need motivation to get my degree.
I just need to remind myself that I need motivation to get my degree so I can get a new job/store.
Easy, right?
Just one more year. One more.
[boom]
Thursday, March 15, 2012
And I have seen what holding on can take away
I have the weekend off. That is fucking WEIRD. I literally almost fell over. Aaaaaand then I remembered that it's spring break next week so I have to work all week and I probably only got a weekend off cos Michelle felt bad cos I work every weekend. But whatever, I'll take it. Starting at 11 tomorrow morning I... guess I'm actually doing jack shit. Drat.
It's weird knowing that's only the Ides of March today. I keep thinking it's like, fucking June. Which would be sweet cos then I would be going up north soon. Evs.
I seriously don't think I've ever been so excited for a 2am shift. The problem is, I know my brain will be racing. Because it always is at 2am. It just sucks cos when I'm awake that early, I'm sleepy. Sometimes I am not in a good mood or whatever. I have ZERO distractions then. So all I can do is emoly frost donuts sometimes.
But then sometimes I think of stupid shit I hear and see and it makes me smile. The last few months I've been getting better at not just self-loathingly sitting on my couch and actually trying to make myself feel better. Sometimes I want to ask for help but... I don't. That's the part of me that will never get over being a burden to people, even when I know that's fucking retarded and knock it off brain you are not a burden people like you pretty okay.
I blame Jeph for any and all run-ons I ever use. Ever.
Woah, Yellowcard cover of Michelle Branch's "Everywhere". Awesome.
So, I've noticed I don't do things for myself. My intentions are always ingrained within someone or something else. School, for example. When I was living with someone who was also in school (either in the dorms or at the house) I was motivated to keep going to class and try to do some homework. Maybe it was for show, maybe it was just to appease other people, maybe it was to keep them off my case, I don't know. I think that's my problem. It's like I need a babysitter. Okay, I don't NEED one, but I think my problem is that I feel like "who cares? I'll have a philosophy degree AWESOME." But when I think of people being disappointed in me for fucking up and never getting my degree (dad) then I'm like "well shit, I need to finish this."
The same reason I quit smoking all those years ago. Someone told me they didn't like it, so like an obedient puppy, I quit. Just... quit. I mean, it's not like I'm a HUGE smoker but it still sucked. And I think I'll continue to be a drunk until someone says "You know, you should really cut back on drinking before you get out of hand." And then I will.
I don't know what it is. Maybe it's a blatant disregard of my own body and life until someone I respect and care about says that it would be disappointing to watch me do stupid shit. Actually, that sounds pretty accurate. That's probably what it is. Huh. How about that.
I just seriously had to weigh out which blog I was going to add something to. I am kind of strange. You knew that, though.
I'll just add it here, cos I'm here. "Sometimes I want to ask if we could ever get a tattoo together. Not a giant her face on my stomach, either. Just to go get a tattoo with my favorite person. Even if it wasn't those tattoos that we had designed, just a tattoo with someone who I think is going to be around for awhile. But then I don't ask because I don't want to be creepy or whatever. My brain is toxic."
So there's that! I'm gonna go... place.
I seriously almost bought a Rainbow Dash cutie mark for my car. I have not totally dismissed the idea. I am the element of loyalty, as I've said before. I need help.
[boom]
It's weird knowing that's only the Ides of March today. I keep thinking it's like, fucking June. Which would be sweet cos then I would be going up north soon. Evs.
I seriously don't think I've ever been so excited for a 2am shift. The problem is, I know my brain will be racing. Because it always is at 2am. It just sucks cos when I'm awake that early, I'm sleepy. Sometimes I am not in a good mood or whatever. I have ZERO distractions then. So all I can do is emoly frost donuts sometimes.
But then sometimes I think of stupid shit I hear and see and it makes me smile. The last few months I've been getting better at not just self-loathingly sitting on my couch and actually trying to make myself feel better. Sometimes I want to ask for help but... I don't. That's the part of me that will never get over being a burden to people, even when I know that's fucking retarded and knock it off brain you are not a burden people like you pretty okay.
I blame Jeph for any and all run-ons I ever use. Ever.
Woah, Yellowcard cover of Michelle Branch's "Everywhere". Awesome.
So, I've noticed I don't do things for myself. My intentions are always ingrained within someone or something else. School, for example. When I was living with someone who was also in school (either in the dorms or at the house) I was motivated to keep going to class and try to do some homework. Maybe it was for show, maybe it was just to appease other people, maybe it was to keep them off my case, I don't know. I think that's my problem. It's like I need a babysitter. Okay, I don't NEED one, but I think my problem is that I feel like "who cares? I'll have a philosophy degree AWESOME." But when I think of people being disappointed in me for fucking up and never getting my degree (dad) then I'm like "well shit, I need to finish this."
The same reason I quit smoking all those years ago. Someone told me they didn't like it, so like an obedient puppy, I quit. Just... quit. I mean, it's not like I'm a HUGE smoker but it still sucked. And I think I'll continue to be a drunk until someone says "You know, you should really cut back on drinking before you get out of hand." And then I will.
I don't know what it is. Maybe it's a blatant disregard of my own body and life until someone I respect and care about says that it would be disappointing to watch me do stupid shit. Actually, that sounds pretty accurate. That's probably what it is. Huh. How about that.
I just seriously had to weigh out which blog I was going to add something to. I am kind of strange. You knew that, though.
I'll just add it here, cos I'm here. "Sometimes I want to ask if we could ever get a tattoo together. Not a giant her face on my stomach, either. Just to go get a tattoo with my favorite person. Even if it wasn't those tattoos that we had designed, just a tattoo with someone who I think is going to be around for awhile. But then I don't ask because I don't want to be creepy or whatever. My brain is toxic."
So there's that! I'm gonna go... place.
I seriously almost bought a Rainbow Dash cutie mark for my car. I have not totally dismissed the idea. I am the element of loyalty, as I've said before. I need help.
[boom]
Monday, March 12, 2012
Words with Friends is Stupid.
But I will keep playing games until I win. Damnit.
Anyway. Hi blog. How are you? Doing well, I hope. But I know you'd never pretend to be well, and then not be well, right blog? Cos that's silly.
Me? I'm bored and I have zero motivation to do the things I need to do. I just.. don't... care. At all. Not even a little bit.
Nope.
So that's why I chose today to go over the 2000+ messages in my deviantart inbox. They aren't like facebook notifications wherein I'm getting all these comments. They're more like "hey you're part of this group look at all the neat stuff that got posted."
And I. Went through. It all.
I have no motivation for anything meaningful.
Though, I really want to keep writing right now. I'm trying out Jeph's storyboard idea, thing. He mentioned that sometimes when he can't think of a script, he just does something else and lets his subconscious take over and work with everything. Now, obviously, I'm not looking for a script. You could write the same thing with the same details. My story isn't rocket science. But I'm particular with HOW I write, with WHAT I write. And I know that I need to get Vinyl to be, as only Vinyl is, insecure about what happened between her and Octavia in the last chapter. Is she happy? That's an understatement. But if Vinyl is the insecure unicorn that I think she is, she's going to go from "OMGYAY" to "OMGWHATIFEVERYTHINGISRUINED."
Because, you know, Vinyl is like that. Not... not me. Nope.
I really want to buy a Vinyl shirt (the reflecty one) or maybe find a cool Rainbow Dash shirt (you know, she IS the Element of Loyalty) but I just... I dunno. I want to, and my most of me doesn't care if people know I watch this show, but some of me does. Also, I need money for other stuff. Not shirts.
Speaking of money, this is the part where I say that I really, really, really, really wish you'd stop 'fighting'* me on this whole up north thing, Blog. Either way, I'm paying for two people, which is fine. I really couldn't care less. The only difference is whether or not two people get to enjoy it or one.
*I say fighting, but it's not fighting. More like, I really wish you'd stop being stubborn. But I know jobs happen sometimes too. Which sucks. But... the money thing is a non-issue as far as I'm concerned. It'll be fun. =(. I am literally pouting right now and this is a long footnote.
P.S. Blogger, your HTML editing for font sizes REALLY FUCKING BLOWS. Work on that.
[boom]
Anyway. Hi blog. How are you? Doing well, I hope. But I know you'd never pretend to be well, and then not be well, right blog? Cos that's silly.
Me? I'm bored and I have zero motivation to do the things I need to do. I just.. don't... care. At all. Not even a little bit.
Nope.
So that's why I chose today to go over the 2000+ messages in my deviantart inbox. They aren't like facebook notifications wherein I'm getting all these comments. They're more like "hey you're part of this group look at all the neat stuff that got posted."
And I. Went through. It all.
I have no motivation for anything meaningful.
Though, I really want to keep writing right now. I'm trying out Jeph's storyboard idea, thing. He mentioned that sometimes when he can't think of a script, he just does something else and lets his subconscious take over and work with everything. Now, obviously, I'm not looking for a script. You could write the same thing with the same details. My story isn't rocket science. But I'm particular with HOW I write, with WHAT I write. And I know that I need to get Vinyl to be, as only Vinyl is, insecure about what happened between her and Octavia in the last chapter. Is she happy? That's an understatement. But if Vinyl is the insecure unicorn that I think she is, she's going to go from "OMGYAY" to "OMGWHATIFEVERYTHINGISRUINED."
Because, you know, Vinyl is like that. Not... not me. Nope.
I really want to buy a Vinyl shirt (the reflecty one) or maybe find a cool Rainbow Dash shirt (you know, she IS the Element of Loyalty) but I just... I dunno. I want to, and my most of me doesn't care if people know I watch this show, but some of me does. Also, I need money for other stuff. Not shirts.
Speaking of money, this is the part where I say that I really, really, really, really wish you'd stop 'fighting'* me on this whole up north thing, Blog. Either way, I'm paying for two people, which is fine. I really couldn't care less. The only difference is whether or not two people get to enjoy it or one.
*I say fighting, but it's not fighting. More like, I really wish you'd stop being stubborn. But I know jobs happen sometimes too. Which sucks. But... the money thing is a non-issue as far as I'm concerned. It'll be fun. =(. I am literally pouting right now and this is a long footnote.
P.S. Blogger, your HTML editing for font sizes REALLY FUCKING BLOWS. Work on that.
[boom]
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Boom Boom Clap, Boom de Clap de Clap
Welp. I'm home. Oh yay.
That's not a bad thing. I like being home. I think I just am sick of trying to be responsible. I don't want to go to work. I don't want to go to class. I just want to sit around and be a lazy ass.
I don't know why. It's not like anything in my life is really difficult right now. I think I'm just tired. Oh well. I'll get over it.
I really want to write. But I don't know if I can. It's not like I have to come up with the story; the story is already written. I just can't find the words. And that's frustrating. I feel like I'm just... abandoning people. Like, I know no one is going to cry themselves to sleep over it but I feel like I have an audience, including you Blog, and I want to adhere to you all. Not like you need the story retold. But you seem to enjoy it as much as everyone else does. And I don't want to not finish it. It's a great story. I just.. bah. I don't know what my issue is. Maybe if I tried again...
So, part of me thought of a neat little idea on my drive home today. I was, literally, screaming along to some music. I couldn't hear shit and my voice, which is already not awesome, was almost completely gone. Why? Because I wanted to. Because I like to drive and when I drive I like to listen to music and when I listen to music sometimes a song hits me. There are some songs out there that I literally think could have been written FOR me. It's crazy. Not every song fits like a glove, but some do. It's like "How... what?!" And I guess I wanted to post some of those lyrics and just... I dunno, explain why? Not that either you or I care, Blog. It was just a thought. It wasn't nearly as good of a blog idea as the one I had last time I drove home.
I might do that yet. I have to... choose the right lyrics.
... I should just do it now. I have the playlist. *rustle rustle*. Bonus points if you guess the song before I say it.
"When all that is waiting for you won't come any closer, you've got to reach out a little more."
Careful by Paramore
This one... it's kind of interesting for me. I mean, music being the relate-able fuck that it is, sometimes leaves things vague enough for anyone to attach to. This might be one of those, but I feel like a lot of times in my life, I've had everything in control but just... waited for it to fall in my lap. I guess this one has motivated me in the past, and will motivate me in the future, to see the bigger picture and really work for what I want. Sometimes, life isn't fair, but I feel like I have a good grasp on the difference between want, need, and impossible to have. This song, and this lyric, is always there to say "Stop being a dummy, dummy, and go get yo shit!".
... Alright, so, I just realized that I really only wanted to do this so I could mention this song/lyric.
"I'm on my guard for the rest of the world, but with you, I know it's no good."
Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift
It's almost irritating. It's like... goddamnit. Even if I WANTED to keep something from you, Blog, I couldn't. There are a million and a half times when we're talking that I'm like "WHY DID I JUST SAY/ADMIT THAT WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME."
A perfect example: The hair. The goddamn hair. It's a perfect example because there was NO NEED to say it. At all. I could have just said "Eh, it looks fine." I could have been smug. I could have said nothing at all. But what did me and my dumbass do? Willingly, and unprovoked, I admitted how... to be blunt, how ridiculously hot I thought it was. (Also, I would feel a LOT more awkward saying that to anyone else. I don't know why I don't with you. Also, whatever, you like it. Kiiiind of the same way I called you an asshole for asking if I "still had a thing for brunettes" but, whatever, we both know I liked it.) WHY? I have no idea why. Because I just kind of... lose my filter I guess. I can hide anything from anyone at any time, except you. Um. Blog.
I know we've talked about it. I just... it baffles me. And I think that song just caught my ear because when I get hit with those green eyes (Whatever, they're green. Not hazel. I will fight that until the end. When do you ever look into your own eyes? Mirrors don't count.) I just kind of forget that I have to hide anything. I don't have to be cool all the time. I don't have to pretend I'm awesome if I'm not. I can just be. I can be me and that is perfectly acceptable and I love it.
It's just... it's just nice. And I hope that that's sort of a two way street. Though, it's not like you pretend to be someone you're not, Blog. You don't usually mince words. You also are the stoicism to my empathy. I mean, when you have feelings to share, I like to think that I'm one of the handful that gets to hear those feelings.
Maybe I'm wrong though.
I don't think I am a fake person, by the way. I like to think that I am not fake at all. I guess sometimes I feel like I have a persona to uphold, and it's nice when I don't have to worry constantly if what I'm doing or saying is okay.
I have no idea why I'm writing this anymore. My neck hurts, I can't stop coughing, and I can barely keep my eyes open.
Oh, and, I'm not using my Tumblr anymore. Just for keeping all the ones I follow in one place. Because, fuck it, I'll say it eventually. Either that, or I've got to quit being a Dante.
[boom]
That's not a bad thing. I like being home. I think I just am sick of trying to be responsible. I don't want to go to work. I don't want to go to class. I just want to sit around and be a lazy ass.
I don't know why. It's not like anything in my life is really difficult right now. I think I'm just tired. Oh well. I'll get over it.
I really want to write. But I don't know if I can. It's not like I have to come up with the story; the story is already written. I just can't find the words. And that's frustrating. I feel like I'm just... abandoning people. Like, I know no one is going to cry themselves to sleep over it but I feel like I have an audience, including you Blog, and I want to adhere to you all. Not like you need the story retold. But you seem to enjoy it as much as everyone else does. And I don't want to not finish it. It's a great story. I just.. bah. I don't know what my issue is. Maybe if I tried again...
So, part of me thought of a neat little idea on my drive home today. I was, literally, screaming along to some music. I couldn't hear shit and my voice, which is already not awesome, was almost completely gone. Why? Because I wanted to. Because I like to drive and when I drive I like to listen to music and when I listen to music sometimes a song hits me. There are some songs out there that I literally think could have been written FOR me. It's crazy. Not every song fits like a glove, but some do. It's like "How... what?!" And I guess I wanted to post some of those lyrics and just... I dunno, explain why? Not that either you or I care, Blog. It was just a thought. It wasn't nearly as good of a blog idea as the one I had last time I drove home.
I might do that yet. I have to... choose the right lyrics.
... I should just do it now. I have the playlist. *rustle rustle*. Bonus points if you guess the song before I say it.
"When all that is waiting for you won't come any closer, you've got to reach out a little more."
Careful by Paramore
This one... it's kind of interesting for me. I mean, music being the relate-able fuck that it is, sometimes leaves things vague enough for anyone to attach to. This might be one of those, but I feel like a lot of times in my life, I've had everything in control but just... waited for it to fall in my lap. I guess this one has motivated me in the past, and will motivate me in the future, to see the bigger picture and really work for what I want. Sometimes, life isn't fair, but I feel like I have a good grasp on the difference between want, need, and impossible to have. This song, and this lyric, is always there to say "Stop being a dummy, dummy, and go get yo shit!".
... Alright, so, I just realized that I really only wanted to do this so I could mention this song/lyric.
"I'm on my guard for the rest of the world, but with you, I know it's no good."
Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift
It's almost irritating. It's like... goddamnit. Even if I WANTED to keep something from you, Blog, I couldn't. There are a million and a half times when we're talking that I'm like "WHY DID I JUST SAY/ADMIT THAT WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME."
A perfect example: The hair. The goddamn hair. It's a perfect example because there was NO NEED to say it. At all. I could have just said "Eh, it looks fine." I could have been smug. I could have said nothing at all. But what did me and my dumbass do? Willingly, and unprovoked, I admitted how... to be blunt, how ridiculously hot I thought it was. (Also, I would feel a LOT more awkward saying that to anyone else. I don't know why I don't with you. Also, whatever, you like it. Kiiiind of the same way I called you an asshole for asking if I "still had a thing for brunettes" but, whatever, we both know I liked it.) WHY? I have no idea why. Because I just kind of... lose my filter I guess. I can hide anything from anyone at any time, except you. Um. Blog.
I know we've talked about it. I just... it baffles me. And I think that song just caught my ear because when I get hit with those green eyes (Whatever, they're green. Not hazel. I will fight that until the end. When do you ever look into your own eyes? Mirrors don't count.) I just kind of forget that I have to hide anything. I don't have to be cool all the time. I don't have to pretend I'm awesome if I'm not. I can just be. I can be me and that is perfectly acceptable and I love it.
It's just... it's just nice. And I hope that that's sort of a two way street. Though, it's not like you pretend to be someone you're not, Blog. You don't usually mince words. You also are the stoicism to my empathy. I mean, when you have feelings to share, I like to think that I'm one of the handful that gets to hear those feelings.
Maybe I'm wrong though.
I don't think I am a fake person, by the way. I like to think that I am not fake at all. I guess sometimes I feel like I have a persona to uphold, and it's nice when I don't have to worry constantly if what I'm doing or saying is okay.
I have no idea why I'm writing this anymore. My neck hurts, I can't stop coughing, and I can barely keep my eyes open.
Oh, and, I'm not using my Tumblr anymore. Just for keeping all the ones I follow in one place. Because, fuck it, I'll say it eventually. Either that, or I've got to quit being a Dante.
[boom]
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Took an arrow to the blog
Well, I have a tumblr now.
No, I'm not switching over. I just have one. Because I do. I dunno. Maybe I'll let all of my adoring fans ask me questions!
Or, maybe I won't and I more or less just made one because I'm procrastinating and I got sick of all the stupid tumblrs I had separately bookmarked. Now I have them all neatly organized.
...
Oh, don't even give me that look. Don't judge me for my organizational skills!
And don't give me that "Do your homework, Nicole. Don't fuck it up." Look. I'm getting there. I've done two chapters already! I'm really ADD right now because I'm hungry because soup isn't filling and my cold is getting better question mark. Yeah, that's right. Gonna type out the question mark. YOU GET NO QUESTION MARKS.
<___<
No, I'm not switching over. I just have one. Because I do. I dunno. Maybe I'll let all of my adoring fans ask me questions!
Or, maybe I won't and I more or less just made one because I'm procrastinating and I got sick of all the stupid tumblrs I had separately bookmarked. Now I have them all neatly organized.
...
Oh, don't even give me that look. Don't judge me for my organizational skills!
And don't give me that "Do your homework, Nicole. Don't fuck it up." Look. I'm getting there. I've done two chapters already! I'm really ADD right now because I'm hungry because soup isn't filling and my cold is getting better question mark. Yeah, that's right. Gonna type out the question mark. YOU GET NO QUESTION MARKS.
<___<
>___>
And don't you think for one second, blog that signing off of Facebook made me do anything. I was gonna do it on my own. So you just... yeah. Take that. Or something.
Okay, I need to eat now.
oh look, another post before midnight.
[boom]
And don't you think for one second, blog that signing off of Facebook made me do anything. I was gonna do it on my own. So you just... yeah. Take that. Or something.
Okay, I need to eat now.
oh look, another post before midnight.
[boom]
Friday, February 24, 2012
I Regret Nothing
E.L.T by V Shape Mind is a great song. Just thought you should know that.
Grumble grumble grumble.
Oh. Hey there. Didn't see ya. No, no. You're fine, have a seat. Stay awhile.
Me? Oh, you know. Neck hurts, sleepy as shit, need a shower, hungry. Don't want to work at 2am. You know, the usual. I just ended up passing right the fuck out on the couch, here. So I've got a few hours. Maybe get some food here. I sure am hungry. You'll have that, though.
I have no idea what I'm doing.
Sorry about that blog. I was too busy eating to write. Where was I? Oh yes. Doing nothing.
I almost posted a video called "Smile, Smile, Smile" because it is The Best Song. Yes, alright, it's ponies. Surprising. I know. But it's cute and good and good and cute. It makes me smile. Heeeeyyyy I see what they did there!
I really don't have much to say. I just know that my last two posts were stupid and I wanted to make them go away. I also don't really have any good videos to post. Well, I mean, I DO but, yanno. I also know that if I start looking for videos I will sit here forever and never take a shower and that's gross. Gotta combat that butt-stink. Ew, butt-stink.
I was going to end it there, but I thought the obligatory "boom" would be a little awkward after talking about butts. So... um...
Oh fuck it.
[boom]
Grumble grumble grumble.
Oh. Hey there. Didn't see ya. No, no. You're fine, have a seat. Stay awhile.
Me? Oh, you know. Neck hurts, sleepy as shit, need a shower, hungry. Don't want to work at 2am. You know, the usual. I just ended up passing right the fuck out on the couch, here. So I've got a few hours. Maybe get some food here. I sure am hungry. You'll have that, though.
I have no idea what I'm doing.
Sorry about that blog. I was too busy eating to write. Where was I? Oh yes. Doing nothing.
I almost posted a video called "Smile, Smile, Smile" because it is The Best Song. Yes, alright, it's ponies. Surprising. I know. But it's cute and good and good and cute. It makes me smile. Heeeeyyyy I see what they did there!
I really don't have much to say. I just know that my last two posts were stupid and I wanted to make them go away. I also don't really have any good videos to post. Well, I mean, I DO but, yanno. I also know that if I start looking for videos I will sit here forever and never take a shower and that's gross. Gotta combat that butt-stink. Ew, butt-stink.
I was going to end it there, but I thought the obligatory "boom" would be a little awkward after talking about butts. So... um...
Oh fuck it.
[boom]
Monday, February 20, 2012
Smile, smile, smile.
Dunno what my issue was last night, blog.
Never drink your feelings, kids.
Whatever man. I have Pinkie Pie song. Judge me if you want. It's fucking CATCHY.
[boom]
Never drink your feelings, kids.
Whatever man. I have Pinkie Pie song. Judge me if you want. It's fucking CATCHY.
[boom]
Should have known.
It's funny.
There's a lot of things I COULD be doing right now. Going to bed would be a really good one. Working on homework. Even maybe writing.
Nope. Too busy drinking my feelings again.
Why, you ask? EventhoughyouprobablydontbutIwontgiveyouachoice.
Great question. Not sure. Don't care. Get drunk. Forget it all.
Sure, that sounds really emo. It's not supposed to be. I'm just... unhappy. Like, really unhappy. What's new, right? When am I not whining about how shitfuckingterrible my life is?
I'm trying to distract myself by looking at cabins up North, and thinking about how cool and awesome it would be to spend a few days away from work with 3 awesome people.
And then I promptly get sad again.
What the fuck me? Come on, man. Get it together.
It's the same old problems and insecurities; the same things that have been driving me crazy forever. So why now? I know better. I know everything better. But it won't go away. It probably doesn't help that I woke up this morning and just... my dreams are haunting me. The other night, they were really good and cute and adorable and fun. And last night they were soul-crushing and terrible and I hated every second.
Fuck.
I could write. I should write. Writing takes me to a time where everything was fine and great and I don't have to worry about right now when I'm being a fucking douche over nothing.
I won't, though.
I don't know what I'll do.
Ramble here? To you? You won't know what to say.
I know better.
That's not a mal-intended statement, despite it's attempt in sounding so. It's just fact. I don't know what to say either. So that makes two of us.
Not like it matters a whole lot. Let's be completely, boldly honest; you could light my cats on fire and I'd still give you the world. For free. All you'd have to do is ask. We both know it.
So, whether or not anything was said in response to whatever it is I'm saying is completely beside the point.
Jesus tittyfucking Christ what the goddamnshitfuck am I even TALKING about anymore?
I don't know.
Like Carl once said. "It don't matter. None a dis matters."
Nope.
And I'm not entirely sure why I'm still wasting my time writing it.
I should really edit it. Like, it's... yeah. I should.
I won't though. I don't care enough.
What is wrong with me? Like, no, really. I'm kind of... strange right now.
Betcha didn't guess.
Whatever man. I just... I'm going to do something besides whine. Or something.
There's a lot of things I COULD be doing right now. Going to bed would be a really good one. Working on homework. Even maybe writing.
Nope. Too busy drinking my feelings again.
Why, you ask? EventhoughyouprobablydontbutIwontgiveyouachoice.
Great question. Not sure. Don't care. Get drunk. Forget it all.
Sure, that sounds really emo. It's not supposed to be. I'm just... unhappy. Like, really unhappy. What's new, right? When am I not whining about how shitfuckingterrible my life is?
I'm trying to distract myself by looking at cabins up North, and thinking about how cool and awesome it would be to spend a few days away from work with 3 awesome people.
And then I promptly get sad again.
What the fuck me? Come on, man. Get it together.
It's the same old problems and insecurities; the same things that have been driving me crazy forever. So why now? I know better. I know everything better. But it won't go away. It probably doesn't help that I woke up this morning and just... my dreams are haunting me. The other night, they were really good and cute and adorable and fun. And last night they were soul-crushing and terrible and I hated every second.
Fuck.
I could write. I should write. Writing takes me to a time where everything was fine and great and I don't have to worry about right now when I'm being a fucking douche over nothing.
I won't, though.
I don't know what I'll do.
Ramble here? To you? You won't know what to say.
I know better.
That's not a mal-intended statement, despite it's attempt in sounding so. It's just fact. I don't know what to say either. So that makes two of us.
Not like it matters a whole lot. Let's be completely, boldly honest; you could light my cats on fire and I'd still give you the world. For free. All you'd have to do is ask. We both know it.
So, whether or not anything was said in response to whatever it is I'm saying is completely beside the point.
Jesus tittyfucking Christ what the goddamnshitfuck am I even TALKING about anymore?
I don't know.
Like Carl once said. "It don't matter. None a dis matters."
Nope.
And I'm not entirely sure why I'm still wasting my time writing it.
I should really edit it. Like, it's... yeah. I should.
I won't though. I don't care enough.
What is wrong with me? Like, no, really. I'm kind of... strange right now.
Betcha didn't guess.
Whatever man. I just... I'm going to do something besides whine. Or something.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Huh
It's been a minute. Thought I'd update to keep you on your toes.
I really don't have much to say right now except that I have a massive headache from, I think, these steroids the doc's got me on. It hasn't been too bad, but I think my body is like WTF are you putting in me (giggity)and I'm like "I don't KNOW".
I haven't bench pressed a car yet, though. So, that's disappointing.
I have a large chunk of the weekend off. Tomorrow, homework. And, let's be honest, Skyrim. Saturday either homework or going to see Awesome People (TM). Sunday is whatever I don't do on Saturday. Add Skyrim to taste. Garnish with rum.
Eeyep.
[boom]
I really don't have much to say right now except that I have a massive headache from, I think, these steroids the doc's got me on. It hasn't been too bad, but I think my body is like WTF are you putting in me (giggity)and I'm like "I don't KNOW".
I haven't bench pressed a car yet, though. So, that's disappointing.
I have a large chunk of the weekend off. Tomorrow, homework. And, let's be honest, Skyrim. Saturday either homework or going to see Awesome People (TM). Sunday is whatever I don't do on Saturday. Add Skyrim to taste. Garnish with rum.
Eeyep.
[boom]
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
It's really not your fault
... if no one cares to talk about it, talk about it...
Yes, I realize how me posting those lyrics is giggle worthy. I'll wait. *whistles*
Good? Good. Leave all snarky comments at the door, please. Alright, I won't kid myself. I know all snarky comments will be left in the comments section, in a text, or on Twitter or Facebook. And let's be completely honest... we both like it better that way.
Anywho. Who has two thumbs and locked herself out of her (running) car and her house today? This guy. Eeyep. Torchy no happy about this. Torchy feel like world's biggest fucking moron. Torchy is unsure as to why she is writing in the third person. Hmm. Torchy want Skyrim. And Rum.
The shitty part is that I called a number that I have... a warranty with? I really don't know what it is. It's like a AAA sort of thing, but I'm supposed to get it for free. So they asked the standard questions. Account number, who's name is on the policy, when it was activated (all info that's on the slip of paper I have), the last 8 characteristics of the VIN... alright, kind of weird but easy to find. Make, model, and year of my car... alright, this seems like it's getting excessive but okay. Where I bought the car. Wait, what? I don't fucking remember the name of the place right now. (I do right now but I didn't at the time and had absolutely no way of finding out.) So after all of this information that was given, since I can't remember the name of the two-bit, hole-in-the-wall place that I got my car from, I don't get free service. I get to pay 60 bucks for this now. You know what dude, whatever. My fucking car is RUNNING. I have no spare key and I just want to fucking get it unlocked. Dude works with me and takes down roughly 600 more answers of mine.
Then, after paying over the phone, he tells me that it will be an hour.
One. Hour.
MY CAR IS RUNNING IT IS COLD AND FUCKING WHAT.
I was mad. Luckily, Alyssa stopped by and I could sit in a warm car and pretend that I didn't want to break a window. Naturally, all the neighbors were incredibly interested. I couldn't feel my hands or feet. You know me, blog, I'm pretty impervious to cold and I was only wearing a sweatshirt. My most of me was warm but my extremities... it hurt. A lot.
Then I got a headache. And then I was hungry.
#firstworldproblems #epicedition
The guy came in like a half hour, though, so that was good. Now I'm playing Skyrim and drinking rum and pretending I wasn't a giant fool today.
That's the last time I try to take out the garbage.
New Truth chapter is up. You already knew that though. Might throw up a special next Tuesday. Not sure. Some people have been asking about it and I have a good idea, but I'm not sure. Speaking of such things, I am getting kind of popular and it's kind of weird. I guess, to me, these people like a story because it tells an awesome love story... I wonder if it would take away the majesty of it if they all knew that I am 90% Vinyl and I have my 90% Octy and my 100000% Lyra. Either way, it's neat to know that I'm inspiring other people to create stories and artworks and whatnot. That's a good feeling.
Course, it's nicer to know that other people, perhaps more important people, are somewhat enjoying it. Don't you think, Blog?
Oh hey, a blog post before midnight.
[boom]
Yes, I realize how me posting those lyrics is giggle worthy. I'll wait. *whistles*
Good? Good. Leave all snarky comments at the door, please. Alright, I won't kid myself. I know all snarky comments will be left in the comments section, in a text, or on Twitter or Facebook. And let's be completely honest... we both like it better that way.
Anywho. Who has two thumbs and locked herself out of her (running) car and her house today? This guy. Eeyep. Torchy no happy about this. Torchy feel like world's biggest fucking moron. Torchy is unsure as to why she is writing in the third person. Hmm. Torchy want Skyrim. And Rum.
The shitty part is that I called a number that I have... a warranty with? I really don't know what it is. It's like a AAA sort of thing, but I'm supposed to get it for free. So they asked the standard questions. Account number, who's name is on the policy, when it was activated (all info that's on the slip of paper I have), the last 8 characteristics of the VIN... alright, kind of weird but easy to find. Make, model, and year of my car... alright, this seems like it's getting excessive but okay. Where I bought the car. Wait, what? I don't fucking remember the name of the place right now. (I do right now but I didn't at the time and had absolutely no way of finding out.) So after all of this information that was given, since I can't remember the name of the two-bit, hole-in-the-wall place that I got my car from, I don't get free service. I get to pay 60 bucks for this now. You know what dude, whatever. My fucking car is RUNNING. I have no spare key and I just want to fucking get it unlocked. Dude works with me and takes down roughly 600 more answers of mine.
Then, after paying over the phone, he tells me that it will be an hour.
One. Hour.
MY CAR IS RUNNING IT IS COLD AND FUCKING WHAT.
I was mad. Luckily, Alyssa stopped by and I could sit in a warm car and pretend that I didn't want to break a window. Naturally, all the neighbors were incredibly interested. I couldn't feel my hands or feet. You know me, blog, I'm pretty impervious to cold and I was only wearing a sweatshirt. My most of me was warm but my extremities... it hurt. A lot.
Then I got a headache. And then I was hungry.
#firstworldproblems #epicedition
The guy came in like a half hour, though, so that was good. Now I'm playing Skyrim and drinking rum and pretending I wasn't a giant fool today.
That's the last time I try to take out the garbage.
New Truth chapter is up. You already knew that though. Might throw up a special next Tuesday. Not sure. Some people have been asking about it and I have a good idea, but I'm not sure. Speaking of such things, I am getting kind of popular and it's kind of weird. I guess, to me, these people like a story because it tells an awesome love story... I wonder if it would take away the majesty of it if they all knew that I am 90% Vinyl and I have my 90% Octy and my 100000% Lyra. Either way, it's neat to know that I'm inspiring other people to create stories and artworks and whatnot. That's a good feeling.
Course, it's nicer to know that other people, perhaps more important people, are somewhat enjoying it. Don't you think, Blog?
Oh hey, a blog post before midnight.
[boom]
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