Any Questions?

Dude. They totally rock.

2005-07-03T16:44:00.000-07:00

Alright, so I got back a few hours ago from my long-awaited trip to Muskegon to see Boyz II Men, Seether and Crossfade, as well as a few of my amazing comrades I share various levels of nerdity with. And here is the general review.

Holy shit!

The drive up was the longest I've ever had to make, but not as bad as I thought it'd be. Suffice it to say that the land between Lake Michigan and Columbus ain't all that exciting, so it made for an easy, if boring, ride up. We left way too early though. Nobody told me you had to drive 100 mph once you crossed the state line. What should have been a 7 hour trip ended up taking anywhere between 15 minutes and 5.5 hours. Regardless, resolved I'd get no gas in Ann Arbor, we made it safe and sound.

Unfortunately, we got there way to frigging early. Thinking that check-in was around 2 pm at the hotel, we arrived at about 1 thinking the room'd be ready. It wasn't. And wouldn't be until 4.

Okay, no problem. We have no map, no directions, no one helpful and no plans. So, I gave my chica in the city a call. With my bro and a friend in tow, we hung out with her, she showed us around the city, the beach (wow.) and everything, then went and chilled with her and my other good friend, her hubby, at their house. I was really glad to have a place to go. I wasn't too keen on the idea of driving around the city not knowing where the hell we were going for 2 hours...and Michigan roads...I just plain don't understand. Still don't. The good news was that we'd established where the beach was, their house was, and where the festival was and made merry in the process.

Then came check-in, much drinking, and Boyz II Men.

I got a little blitzed. More than I intended...and apparently I was really really REALLY wanting some damn Southern Comfort beads and quite into the music, all of which I blame on the alkie-hall, which I'm completely giving up (yeah right) because it leads to nothing but trouble. And...embarassment. And stories the next day. Egads. I can't hold mah liquor well enough for that crap again. Ha!

Other than that, the concert was so much freakin' fun. It was hilarious to hear and sing all those old songs I remember from way back, and we were around fun people. Shoot. In that environment, I don't see how it could be anything but enjoyable. I think seeing them once in concert yields just about all they have to give, and I definately have seen better concerts overall, but it was so cool to see old school stuff like that live.

So the next day, after a drunken sleep that was pretty awful, friend and brother split off from me for a couple hours so I could visit another friend in Grand Haven. They'd wanted to go spend some time on the beach anyway, and I'm not so much a beach-goer, so it was all good.

That was a really cool side trip. I had a great time hanging out and shooting the shit with those guys like we'd done it a million times before, and it was cool to see other parts of the city I hadn't seen yet. It's like I don't get the chance to just relax on a porch and BS with friends, so it was great to do that for a change.

We hooked up with friend and brother back at the beach later on, and met ANOTHER friend who I didn't know, but turned out to be awesome too! We all took a long walk out to the pier to see the lighthouse and watch the boats go into the channel, and I got the most bizzare sunburn ever. The beach itself was...maybe the nicest I've ever seen. The water was cold as all get-out, but the beach was white and pristine and with that blue, blue lake...awesome. I hate admitting Michigan has anything of value...but even I'd move there for a spot like that one.

After that, it was all about the Crossfade/Seether concert. That was the one I was really looking forward to. I could tell friend wasn't all into the day, at least after we left the beach, since that music wasn't really the main attraction, but I was still totally excited. After eating at the hotel, we all headed back to the house for more drinking and merry-making, then headed off to the concert.

Dude. There were so many people packed into this park, it was unreal...but at the same time, we had plenty of room where we sat. Dark New Day and Lit were already playing on the stage, neither of which any of us were terribly interested in, so we went off for beer tokens and beer while others sat up the chairs. To my horror, I realized we were COMPLETELY surrounded by Michigan fans, including the people I'd come to see (though when the real ribbing began, I totally won...but I was prepared before I ever arrived. :P) So after a few warm beers, Crossfade came on.

Wow. See previous Crossfade concert post. They're amazing. And all hot. Mmm.

Seether, though...I hate to admit anybody really blew my boy Ed off the stage, but they did. I wasn't even -that- much of a Seether fan before this, but after, I'm hooked. At one point, Shaun Morgan (lead singer) was so into what he was singing, it was like he didn't know where to put his hands, so they just...hovered near the mic uselessly. He was in a totally different place, which is why I like this kind of music to begin with. Way more passionate than a lot of what's out there in the mainstream.

Cooler than that, even, was that they played old school rock, too. Smoke On the Water right in the middle of one song...an old Alice in Chains song, too, which got everybody going. Hell, they even sang a little bit of Cold and actually sounded BETTER than Crossfade doing it! Morgan even played a chord on his guitar, laid it down gently on the stage, and let it go. In the pitch black, this one chord went on forever and ever and you knew he'd pick it up again, but it would have been totally okay if he didn't. That was amazing. It's been a long time since I've felt music more than heard it, but that was pretty much the only way to describe it. It's kind of an emotion in itself...I could go on about my own intense relationship with music, but that's probably never going to be displayed for public scrutiny. Ha!

Either way, it was hands down the best concert I've ever gone to, and with people that felt the same way about it as I did, it was even better.

The way back wasn't all that eventful, except that a misstep placed us smack dab in the middle of Ann Arbor with an OSU decorated car. That was kind of an adventure. I wanted to check out a cool bakery I knew of, so we drove around a bit, saw the crappy stadium, and got hollered at a few time by jealous Michigan fans, but it was fun! Never did find that bakery, though.

It was fun to go with my little bro, too. He loved meeting the people I already knew, and got along great with them, and pretty much showed me how I can take my family for granted sometimes. Hey, I've only got one. I'll never say I'm sorry for liking spending time with them, or just being who I am, no matter what anyone's opinion on that is, and that's the way it should be!

Plus, like...you should always be careful who you share things with, if you don't want them repeated. Heh!

So, with a little enlightenment, a fuckin' fantastic roadtrip, and a festival I have to attend every year now under my belt, I feel refreshed and so thankful for true friends, and kick-ass music.

News Flash

2005-06-15T19:21:00.000-07:00

Gossip about what I post here?

Ah-fuck you.

^_^

A Month From Today

2005-06-02T10:48:00.000-07:00

Where will you be a month from today? At this very moment? Despite what the whacked-out time on my blog says, it's 1:48 pm on June 2nd. I know where I'll be!

I'll be strolling around a park on Muskegon lake, surrounded by rabid music fans. I'll be chillin' with 4 of the best people I know in the world (even if one of them is my brother...=P) and getting ready to see two of the best bands EVAR in concert.

Does it get much better than that, ladies and gentlemen? NO. It doesn't!

I think finals is frying my brain. I know the Summer Celebration is a month away, and there's a lot to do until then, but that's all I can seem to think about! Screw school! Screw drama! All I wanna do is tip back in a lawn chair with a frosty alcoholic beverage on a cool summer eve by the lake and totally rock for hours on end. It's like the ultimate blissful getaway.

And really, I'm equally excited about seeing my Michiganer homies while I'm there!

I know, I know. I'm counting my chickens before they're hatched. Roastin' my turkey before it's stuffed. Openin' the door before turnin' the handle. There are no guarantees...but I don't give a damn. I'm havin' some fun this summer if it -kills- me.

Other than that, it's all about Finals. You know, I've never been this stressed about finals before, and I worked harder this quarter than in the previous ones. I also did more actual work! I actually put effort into my classes and I'm still freaking out! What's up with that? Is this how real students feel?

I don't envy the ones graduating, really, though. They have to start lives. REAL lives. Scary thought.

Aside from finals and being effing...stress out the wazoo, today marks the one year anniversary of my friend JT's passing. He was really one hell of a guy. Supported a wife and a son, and really enjoyed RP for what it was. A game. Something casual to be enjoyed. I talked to him daily for almost 6 months, learning about his life, and himself, and his family. His death was really sudden...a tumor he'd had removed regrew around his heart, and he passed very quickly. I think I'd give just about anything to hear from him again...and maybe, when I go on to my great reward, I will. Until then, I just have to laugh at the memory of his totally perverted jokes and smile thinking about how much he loved his son. I'll never forget him, and I guess in a way, that means he'll always be around in a way.

Rest in peace, my friend.

Alright, that's all for now.
GIT R DONE!

Beers!

Broken.

2005-05-30T01:32:00.000-07:00

Rip it from my soul so everyone will know we were never friends.

Have you ever felt lost inside? So unloved within that you almost died?
Have you ever stepped out of the light and realized there's a stranger inside?

A Lost Log

2005-05-27T07:10:00.000-07:00

So I watched the Lost finale last night, and now I'm obsessed. So, for future reference, I'm posting my links and thoughts here while I try to sift through the information.

www.oceanic-air.com -- Clue 1. This is a site made by ABC. Poke around. Mouse over the text where it says Flight 815, and highlight the jumble that is revealed. It's a note from a "survivor".

** There's another letter there too, from a woman, though I haven't read it.
** A weird bar will be revealed when you mouse over Flight 815. Click and drag. It's a script page...with a crossed out description of the damn monster.
** Click on "Track Flight", then type in "815" and track it. The cursor doesn't change if you mouse over 815, but click it anyway. It'll take you to a seating chart. And that's where things really get interesting.

The Seating Chart and the Numbers
4,8,15,16,28,42
Those are Hurley's cursed numbers. You know..the ones he learned from a crazy man, played the lotto with and won 162 million dollars, that appear on the hatch and are cursed?

When you get to the seating chart, you can click on the blue boxes. Start clicking boxes in the rows in Hurley's number sequence. Other blocks will highlight, and when you go to them, you'll notice they are the seats of our castaways. Jack, Kate, the Marshall, Locke, Boone, Shannon...click on their boxes, again and again and see what comes up. Some of that stuff scared me shitless, so be ready for sudden sounds and creepy images.

Most importantly...at the bottom of the screen, next to the key, where it says "Oceanic 815" Keep an eye on that number. Click on Jack or Rose. See it change? Flight 777...hmm...

http://www.geocities.com/elreino1/777.htm

That site explains the significance of 777. Rose is a very religious woman, though rarely in the show. The show's central conflict is Jack and Locke, and Locke said in this episode that Jack was a man of science, and he was a man of faith. That's why they don't see eye to eye on much.

Hmm....

Alright, so this is leading me down a path of religion. I think this is what it's all about. This has something to do with destiny, fate and faith vs. reason, logic and science.

Then you have The Others. What do they want with Walt? Walt's got a freaky power...what do they want with him? Who are they? Where is all this machinery, like the Hatch and the Monster coming from? How the HELL did that pirate ship get in the middle of the island?!

...this is the stuff I haven't figured out yet.

Oh! And, if you're into it... you can click on the actual row numbers on that seating chart. Click on Hurley's numbers in order, and be patient. There's a preview for Season 2 there.

More to be added later!

Carrie Underwood can kiss it.

2005-05-26T05:49:00.000-07:00

Alright. Rant time.

American Idol can KISS MY ASS.

There is no reason, NO REASON for that Carrie country-wannabe-barbie-blondie-perfect-fake Underwood to be an American Idol. -I- do NOT idolize her! BLEH.

Besides. We all know this is Fox, and that show is effing rigged anyway. That's right. I'm saying it. RIGGED. And designed to suck you in and steal your brain. Why the hell else would you need a TWO HOUR SHOW for a single sentence that anybody cares about?

You know why she won? You know why? Because she's SLEEPING WITH PAULA!

AND, because it's rigged, let's look at the reality. We already HAVE a Carrie Underwood Idol! Her name is KELLY CLARKSON! She already was the sugary-sweet oh-so-innocent vomit-fest on the show, and now we have another one. I'll tell you what, blondie better stay on the country charts or I'ma throw her damn single out of my car and run the hell over it.

Now...Bo. Let's look at Bo. How can you not look at Bo? He represents Rock. REAL rock. Not this Gavin DeGraw bullshit. That's pop. Bad pop, at that. In fact, the entire season, that was the only song he sounded bad singing.

Bo has the look, the attitude, the WINK...God, did you see him wink?! And he is a Southern Rocker. He sang with Skynard. And it looked like he'd done it a thousand times before. He deserves a private jet and a record contract! So long as he doesn't become a whore for the record industry and only poop out the kind of music THEY want him to, he should have won! Good Lord. What is wrong with you, America?

In a way maybe it's better. You do have the Clay Aiken phenomenon at work. Second place Clay became (for a week) more mainstream than winner Ruben. So there's hope, I guess.

I want to see Bo fronting and belting it out in front of a band like Shinedown. Singing from his soul, rather than his wallet. That's what I want to see.

And if he ever cuts his hair, I'll kill him.

=D

Alright, rant over. I'm a little irritated that I watched THAT instead of Lost last night, but TiVo did save the day on that one. Now if I can just get through the day without hearing anything about Lost, I'm good to go for pure indulgence tonight! YEE!

Lyrics.

2005-05-20T04:31:00.000-07:00

She was a queen
Lost within a dream
Misconcieved that he was fit to reign
Lies take victims
Seperate them at the seams
Cause them to fall apart
Then move on to better things now

She
Wants to fall in love again
Don't you know that
He's
Satisfied to own her.

No time permits to open up
When you've been hiding thoughts so strong
She's been holding out for an angel to come along
No reply from the sky
But she just keeps looking up
She just keep looking up now

She
Wants to fall in love again
Don't you know that he
He's
Satisfied to own her

She'll never know love's true potential
Lost in the open wind
To his impatience
Never feeling they would fall apart
She let her feelings grow
To tears she'll never show now

She
Wants to fall in love again
Don't you know that he
He's
Satisfied to own her

You know he couldn't see
That she could be his everything
Bringing light to everything now
Oh
She just wants to
Fall in love again
She's broken like an angel

The Music Speaks

2005-05-18T08:41:00.000-07:00

I've been a fan of Crossfade for a few months now. Ironically enough, I started to listening to them when my ex and I broke up. He told me that his thoughts were best described by "Cold". You know,

Looking back I see that I never really got it right.
I never stopped to think of you.
I'm always wrapped up in things I cannot win.
You are the antidote that got me by,
Something strong like a drug that got me high.

What I really meant to say,
Is I'm sorry for the way I am.
I never meant to be so cold.

I'd say that summed it up pretty well. It was sweet, and lots of people had heard the tune, and I loved it. So, I started getting more of their stuff. So Far Away, No Giving Up, Starless, Death Trend Setta, etc etc. I never really considered myself to be a hard rocker...because their stuff didn't really remind me of the pulsing, uber-growl of true heavy metal.

What appealed to me about it, though, is how personal the lyrics were. It wasn't about drugs, or bitches and hoes, sex (necessarily). It was about love and hate, heartbreak and mending. Anger and sadness with hope. Plus, c'mon. Ed Sloan has a voice that oozes sex appeal. Tony, too. Mmmm. Just listen to the Acoustic Cold.

So, I bought tickets to their show at the Newport. I was prepared to have fun, took Kevin, and made plans with Jess, Kev and Ben to head on up to Muskegon (eew, Michigan) to see them at the Muskegon Summer Celebration. Boyz II Men also. Like Jess and I could resist that! On top of it, we're going to hook up and hang with two awesome friends of mine. That was enough to be excited about as it was. Camping, drinking, concerts lakeside, amazing company, it doesn't get any better than that!

Then...I actually WENT to the concert.

Holy shit you guys. It was like an out of body experience. Now, the first group to come out was April Sixth. Apparently Christian, heavy metal. They were good, Kev really liked them, but I was impatient for Crossfade. Then, No Address played, and during their set, I heard someone go, "OH MY GOD, ED SLOAN IS ON THE BALCONY". I looked up, and sure enough...his adorable glory loomed above. I grabbed my rum and diet, my brother, and bolted upstairs. When I got there, there was a bouncer, and he stopped us. I was like,
"Did I see a band member up here?!"
"Yes, yes you did."
"Ohmygod! Can I go in?!"
"No."
"...please? I want to see the band!"
"No."
So then I hugged him. Yes, that's right.
"..I'm sorry, it's VIP only."
"But I'm special too."
"I'm sure you are, but I can't let you in."
"What about that guy down there? *points at the other bouncer*"
"No, sorry."
"Damnit."

So we went back down and shoved our way back to the spots we were in for the end of No Address's set, I ran into a few friends and chatted drunkenly with them, and then...blackness. The crowd surged as close to the front as they could get, the guy behind me grabbed my shoulder and yelled in my ear, with his enormous beer cup, "Dude, I'm totally sorry in advance if I spill beer on you, cause I will. So, I'm sorry now."

And then the Newport exploded. I've never seen anything like it. As one, the crowd leapt, threw up their hands and screamed when the first chord was struck. Every person, including me, knew every word to every song they sang that night. It was hard and wild, crowd surfing and mosh-pitting, weed smoking, drunken mess of bodies. The music was so loud, I could barely hear the lyrics, but it didn't matter even slightly.

It seemed like only a minute, and they were finished. They walked off stage, and we chanted. "CROSS-FADE! CROSS-FADE!" Then, Sloan came back out and practically purred into the mic. "We have one more for you guys. This is called, "Cold"." And there was screaming! Even Kevin, who had been mild that night, leapt and pumped his fist in the air with everyone. There was beer ALL over me from the guy behind, but it was great, neither of us cared. Sloan didn't even need to sing, we all knew the words, and we all sang over him.

When it finally ended, and it felt like we had boxes over our ears, Kev and I drove home as satisfied as we've ever been. I've never had a concert experience like that before, and it opened up this whole new genre of music for me. My friends from Mich are big time rockers, they introduced me to Shinedown and UPO who are just as good.

It sounds so weird when you say that music moves you in ways you can't describe, but it's so true. For some, it's spiritual music, others it's a driving or a smooth beat, a baseline that doesn't quit. For me, I think it's music sung with as much passion in the voice as I feel when I hear it. With lesser known bands, like Crossfade and Shinedown, they're not making music that will sell, they're making music that bores into their souls, and that's what music is supposed to do, isn't it? I want to be finished with the Ushers and Lil' Johns of the world, who mass produce music like cheap candy bars to sell to the masses. Not that they're bad...I like them too, but there is such a difference between money music and passion music.

Truly amazing!

Clique-clack

2005-05-07T10:11:00.000-07:00

clique ( P ) Pronunciation Key (klk, klk)
n.
A small exclusive group of friends or associates.

intr.v. Informal cliqued, cliqu·ing, cliques
To form, associate in, or act as a clique.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[French, from Old French, latch, or from obsolete French cliquer, to click, clink of imitative origin.]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
cliquey or cliquy or cliquish adj.
cliquish·ly adv.
cliquish·ness n

All my life, I have been part of one of these. The Clique. I had one among school friends, and have had one among work friends for as long as I can remember.

This is a strange phenomenon.

Observe, the average human being, social by nature, placed in the same situation with the same group of people over and over and over again. Naturally, these creatures will either attract or repel one another, akin to magnetic polarity, though very rarely do they remain neutral for long. It's not natural.

Now, I've suddenly come to the blinding realization that I am no longer part of ANY clique! Whether by my own making or circumstances beyond my control, I am the true definition of a loner as of this moment.

lon·er ( P ) Pronunciation Key (lnr)
n.
One who avoids the company of other people.

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Source: The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition
Copyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company.
Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

Loner

n : a person who avoids the company or assistance of others [syn: lone wolf, lone hand]

I fell into neutrality, and now realize that some of the former cliques I was part of for years, such as the "work" clique and the "high school" clique, not to mention the "class" clique or the "poly sci major clique" have either dissolved entirely or exclude me. Now, those who know me best will be the first to tell you that I dislike being forgotten, forsaken yet made to feel dependant on another individual. The last entries of this very journal have spoken of my depression regarding other people I cared about, and each in his own way, moved on from me.

You know? Since my exclusion from the "work" clique, I find I don't care at all. I realize that the people there are only as big a part in my life as I make them, and I choose to make them very little. It's actually really refreshing, as I look back, I see how much time I wasted doing favors for and caring for people who could turn away without a second glance. It's a lesson, I suppose, much like your first time in a failed relationship. "Well I know not to do THAT again!"

The best part is, I have time to sit back, and really look at the things that make me happy.

Sarah and Bill engaged.
Okay grades (baby steps)
Being proud of my job.
Spending time with my family.
Being happy or sad for people other than myself.
Getting in touch with people I've neglected.
Mending things with people I've hurt.

The Clique as I knew it did not allow me to do any of those things before. I have been so preoccupied wondering who's mad at me, who's not, what did I say, what did I do, I can't believe he stood me up, I can't believe she told me that, I can't believe this, blah blah blah, that I've been completely blind to the bigger picture!

I hope you have the time of your life

2005-05-06T10:13:00.000-07:00

Playing: No Giving Up -- Crossfade
Mood: >_o right eye itches

Man oh man. It's the worst feeling in the world to not know your direction. Not knowing where you're headed, or how long it's going to take before you get there. It's worse when you know that if you had just...stopped and asked for directions, or took the path you didn't want to take, that you wouldn't be lost to begin with!

But when you find yourself with an end in sight, all that trepidation and worry goes right out the window.

I speak, of course dear friends, of graduation.

What's that? No, no. I'm not graduating last Spring, like I should have. I know, it's silly, but I was lazy, and it took me longer. This quarter? Heavens, no! But, I do at last have an end in sight.

The price is a full time summer schedule, of course.
Spanish 102.01
English 201 (big ass survey course)
English 398

Once I kick Spanish assolio, I'll be on easy street sort of. At least those damn GECs will be about finished. After that, the English classes I'm taking, like 597, which a 500 level or above requirement as well as an "Issues of the Contemporary World" requirement, and Eng 290 or 291, fulfills multiple categories.

Sweet.

So now, the projected graduation is: Winter 06 ......... Not too shabby! The only weird thing is that I'll have one class left at the end of that quarter, which is a science course. Animal Sciences 310, I say. I'll either have to do a 20 hour quarter (oh GOD *die*) or take it in the Spring and graduate then. I can't decide...but I know I wanna get this shizzle done as fast as possible.

I'm pretty bad about not studying. I think that now that my major has changed to something I actually like and am good at has made all the difference in the world. Stats isn't as bad as I thought it would be, *knocks on wood* English is decent, if a little demanding for a 200 level course. And, omg Spanish is a blast and a half.

Way too demanding, poop on the department for that one, but I have met the coolest people in there. One of which is a National Guardsman (Freakin' hottie) who just returned from a year's stint in the Sandbox. He has some amazing, scary and awesome stories to share. Another girl and I help eachother and work together a lot, she's really nice and knows more vocab than you can shake a sombrero at. Every single person in there is friendly, and there isn't one person I am afraid to just chat with, which is GREAT! Our prof, Ignacio, is hilarious. The whole class spends time cracking up at him, and eachother. One of the few times I actually do enjoy going to class.

Well, and Stats lecture. Finding reasons to chat with Troy is the highlight of my week. Or, will be, when I grow a hefty pair of balls and have the courage to say hello.

OH! But I DID meet Maurice Hall's girlfriend today. Apparently she is taking Stats too. And, apparently he freelanced and got drafted! Awesome! Go Mo.

Life is good, for the first time in a while. How cool is that?

Lyrics, Concert, Shower, Grandma

2005-05-02T12:27:00.000-07:00

"Starless"

If only you could watch me fall
I cannot feel it anymore
The soul you cut the soul you adore
Cannot feel you anymore
Cause you've run through me with the destructive force
I think somehow I gotta see it straight
I gotta get you out of me
But I cannot get through to you

See me I'm down and I get deeper with every breath
See me I'm over the edge farther with every step
See me I'm down and I get deeper with every breath
Standing over the edge I'm taking my last breath

How I feel like I'm starless
I'm ready to fade now
And how I feel like I'm starless
I'm hopeless and grayed out Somehow I feel like I'm starless
I'm ready to fade now
And now I feel like I'm starless
I'm ready to burn out

I can transcend you and mentally bend you
But I can't handle the shit that I'm into
I have been blinded and always reminded
Of the things I've wanted but I never could find
I am a part of a world that I hate I wish the End would come faster my world's a disaster
Can't you see that I'm down and I'm drowning And I can't keep my head above my wake

I gotta get you out of my veins
I gotta get you out of my blood
I gotta get you out of my scene
I gotta get you out of me

What I'm really trying hard to get down to words
Is the way I fit into this world Things I survived pushed me to the darkeer side
Because of life as it was the life that was
Yours should've never been mine
But I never could take anymore of this
Cause I'm always gonna get down to the floor
It's a cold gun that I kiss
'Cause I cannot break anymore

Somehow I feel like I'm starless
I'm ready to fade now That's how I feel when I'm starless
I'm hopeless and grayed out
Somehow I feel like I'm starless
I'm ready to burn out oh
Now I'm starless

Crossfade concert in two weeks! Joygasm!

Things have been so weird lately around my little bubble world. All of my days have been pretty good so far, I think *knock on wood* that terrible lowness I was going through is finally passing. Today is the last of my midterms for some time, though I'm still way behind in Stats, I'm pretty confidant about this test and my ability to put my nose to the grindstone for the last half of the quarter.

The baby shower went off without a hitch! How about that? I thought it was absolutely lovely, and when Lacy walked in and almost cried because of how it looked, it was worth every freakout and every penny spent. And good Lord, if it hadn't have been for my mom, there wouldn't have been a shower at all.

Lace got a great haul of stuff, too. I was admittedly worried when I looked over her registry and saw that practically nothing had been bought...but I think that she's off to a great start with motherhood, and I don't know about anybody else, but I for one can't wait to see that baby! ^_^

That was my first experience with actually hostessing a party. I'm not sure how I did, really..it was easily one of the most stressful experiences of my entire life. I was almost more nervous with the girls that I knew than I was with the people I've never met before, weird huh? I'm not sure why that is...and the whole time I wondered if people were mad at me because I sort of took over production of the whole affair. Didn't really mean to do that...but, so long as the mommy was happy with the way things turned out, that's all that matters. And, my mom felt really great about all the compliments she got on how the house looked. Good for her. Took us 17 years and a huge fire to get it the way they wanted it, and she should be proud, I says. *nod*

That night though...things got a little rough. I rolled out of bed at 11:30 that night to the phone ringing. First Alert, asking my mom if she was on her way to my Grandma's house. They told her she had pushed her little "I've fallen and I can't get up" button (you remember that commercial, admit it.) and asked the operator if mom was on her way, so they called her. Mom tried to call her, and she didn't pick up the phone, so she scrambled out of bed and went to her house.

The creepiest thing: She found Grandma on the floor in her living room with this huge cut on her head, bleeding. She was shaken up and confused, so mom got her into the chair and asked what happened. Grandma totally couldn't remember falling, or what happened before that. What was weird, though, is that in the kitchen (the last place she is before bedtime, 10 pm every night), the TV was on, there was an unlit cigarette in the ashtray and the lights were on. Her oxygen (which she has to wear 24/7) was on the floor way back by the refridgerator, and there's no way she could have fallen and crawled into the living room. She's way too weak.

Speculation? Something weird happened at around 9:30 or 10 that night. She went back to the fridge for a beer (yes, my oxygenated grandmother drinks beer every night and smokes, she's awesome.) and possibly suffered a mini stroke of some kind...or something. She took off her oxygen (suggesting confusion...we still can't figure that one out) and walked into the living room to sit in her chair. On her way, she fell, cracked her head on the table in there and was unconcious for what might have been an entire hour.

What's weirder is that she could remember everything before and after that...but not the incident itself. The medics came, didn't even bother bandaging her head (and dude, I saw it on Sunday...she seriously hit her head hard.), asked her what her name was, what day it was, etc etc and suggested she go to the hospital. She refused, they shrugged and left. Rude, rude rude! Dad went to go help mom (around 12:30), they tried to get her to go to the hospital, but she refused again. She sat at the kitchen table, lit a cig like always and asked if they minded if she had a beer before bed. Evidently, she had no idea it was almost 1:30 am by that time, acted as fine as she ever had, then they put her to bed at 2 and came home. When I went to see her Sunday, she had absolutely no idea what happened to her the previous night, and aside from the incredible bruise on her skull, I never would have known either.

How screwed up is that?

O_O -_- O_O

Quiz-MANIA! It's MADNESS I tell you!

2005-04-29T07:46:00.000-07:00

O_O I'm so done with quizzes.

Which internet subculture do I belong to? [CLICK]
	You are a FURRY!
You are a sick, sick, individual. Stop lusting over animals! Take off that fursuit and quit yiffing. No-one likes furry art! STOP NOW!
More Quizzes at Go-Quiz.com

...well crap.

Brooke
LOVES
Troy

03010
3311
642
106
16

Love Level: 16%

Loves-O-Meter
From Go-Quiz.com

I'm making a mixed drink version of myself for my next party!

How to make a Brooke

Ingredients:

1 part jealousy

3 parts brilliance

1 part joy

Method:
Combine in a tall glass half filled with crushed ice. Serve with a slice of lustfulness and a pinch of salt. Yum!

Personality cocktail
From Go-Quiz.com

Eeeeek!

2005-04-29T07:25:00.000-07:00

What the hell are you waiting for?

2005-04-16T17:40:00.000-07:00

It's the strangest thing, when you think that your world is falling apart. It's the kind of fear that keeps you up at night, and that makes you cry, but you don't know the reason.

I have few simple joys. One of them, truthfully, is roleplay on my computer. It's nothing more than writing with people who have become my friends, though I've never met them face to face. It's the nerdiest activity in the whole world, but it doesn't matter, I flex my creative muscle and am always satisfied, or craving more with the brilliant minds I've come to know.

Now, this world that I helped maintain is crumbling because of my own stupidity. The offline world, my real world, isn't the place I want to be in anymore. It's a place where I'm flawed and no one can look past it. I have to work my fingers to the bone, I have to sacrifice to make people happy and appreciate me. I'm tired of pretending I'm okay with the way things are. But, when I stop, and I let myself be real, and I let the feelings I have show to the world, it angers people. Co workers don't understand what's going through my head and I'm too stubborn and angry to tell them, because I'll fumble the words and it won't make any sense. Even though I think I'm right, I'm afraid of being proven wrong.

And then, when the world degenerates and I get on my computer to forget who I am for a little while, I take the friends I've made and beat the ever loving hell out of them, because I can't see their faces, and it doesn't feel very real. People hurt me day after day, and I pick the ones that I care about to hurt, for revenge. I can't harm the ones that harm me, so I pass it off to the ones I know I'll sting.

But why? Why do I do that? Why am I like this, that I have to alienate the people who could help me heal rather than just embrace them?

I can't even answer my own questions. I'm losing every friend I've ever had because I can't keep the anger in anymore. The depression and the sadness resonates through everything I do and I can't keep it inside me. It hurts to know people are angry, or talking behind my back, or upset because of something I did or said, but I can't seem to stop doing it and I don't know why.

All I've ever wanted was to be wanted. Loved, accepted and embraced like I matter. Because I'm not, I've struck every person I ever got close to...I manifest these beliefs that I care for them more than they care for me, no matter who they are. That's the story I've told all my life...I invest more than anyone else, and then when that friendship, or that connection falls by the wayside, I'm the one who can't move on, and I'm the one who gets burned. Time after time after time.

Thalin, I'm sorry. You're depressed as often as I am and I forget it, or I stop caring and expect you to be a salve for my wounds, while I open yours and pour salt in them. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you around to just bullshit with, or game with, or just talk to.

Matt (Las), you're a brilliant mind I can't get enough of. You make me laugh, we've had so much fun in our game and time after time, you amaze me with your talent. I hit you the hardest last night, and I've already said these words to you, but what I did should be more known than that. You deserve better than what I can give you.

Damon, you, I would truly be lost without. How you pack so much insight and intelligence into your head, I'll never know. You're talanted, and someone I want to call my friend until the end of my days.

These are the three I lamblasted the most with my stupid, childish nonsense. These are the ones who have been there every time to help me through and who I've shat on repeatedly because they happened to be there, or didn't give me exactly what I needed at the time, even if it was for my own good.

I think I need help, or a guide, or something. I need something to be more important than counting on people that will ultimately let me down. Whether it's God, or just myself, I haven't found that out yet. It's a strange, frightening period of change now, it's already begun, and I'm very afraid to see who is standing beside me, if anyone, once all the smoke clears.

Camelot monologue...swoon

2005-04-14T14:34:00.000-07:00

"Proposition: If I could choose from every woman who breathes on this Earth...the face I would most love, the smile, the touch, the laugh, the voice, the soul itself....every detail, every feature down to the last strand of hair...they would all be Jenny's.

Proposition: If I could choose from every man who breaths on this Earth...a man for my brother, a man for my son...a man for my friend....it would all be Lance...

I love them..I love them and they answer me with pain and torment... Be it sin, or not sin, they have betrayed me in their HEARTS and that's far sin enough! I can see it in their eyes...I can feel it when they speak! And they must pay for it and be punished. I shall not be wounded and not return it in kind! I'm...through with feeble hoping...I demand a man's.....VEng..ence...(hesitation..)

Proposition: ...I'm a king...not a man, and a very civilized king...could it possibly be civilized to destroy the thing I love? Could it possibly be civilized to love myself above all? What about their pain, and their torment? Did they ask for this calamity? Can passion be selected? Is there any doubt of their devotion to me and to our table?

By God...I shall be a king. This is the time of King Authur...when we shall reach for the stars! This is the time when King Arthur when violence is not strength and compassion is not weakness! We are civilized! Resolved! We shall live through this together! Excalibur! They...you and I...and may...GOD have mercy on us all."

Wish

2005-04-04T17:40:00.000-07:00

I want to be someone's beautiful princess.

Anger and Insomnia

2005-04-03T04:25:00.000-07:00

Again I feel like writing, but I don't know what to write that will be a salve.

It's about 4 am on the third of April and I'm lying in bed with my laptop wondering what the hell went wrong last night. I remember everything, but it only comes in convenient clumps.

I think a girl kissed me, I don't think I liked it. I remember wanting it to be a guy instead.

I remember no self esteem even though I probably should have it. Everyone says I should.

I remember two empty bottles of rum and the promise that I'd be bought dinner for my trouble at work that day. I remember accepting the offer but never really feeling like a free meal was enough to make me feel okay about everything that had been going on.

I remember my wonderful friend calling me wanting to go out to the club, and me wanting to go with her, but hurting too badly when it was all said and done. I don't think either of us ended up doing anything. I remember thinking that was a huge waste and I felt bad.

I remember working too hard at my job for no substantial return. "Affection" isn't good enough. I can get affection from my dog, that's not what I've ever asked for.

I remember getting angry that my boss and the rest of the crew stood around and chatted while I worked the counter and sliced the daily bread. I remember thinking that my coworker hadn't done anything that day up to that point, and that if anyone earned the right to stand around and shoot the shit with the boss, it was me and not him.

I remember always being there as a friend, and when I need one the most, they're never there for me. I always feel inadequate and like I'm just somebody's tag-along. I don't want anyone to make me over or paint on my face. I don't want to wear clothes that aren't me. I don't want to smile and pretend like they can just treat me like I don't really matter and act like it's okay. I'm not too sensitive, they just don't understand. I'm allowed to be angry about it, too. I'm allowed to leave them sitting there at the dinner table wondering if I'm okay or not. I'm allowed to avoid the phonecalls and the taunting requests for my return. Sometimes, I do have the right to be angry and upset and it's not a simple brushoff. Sometimes, they have to make the effort to seek your forgiveness and sometimes his personality isn't going to win me over and make me forget.

I'll have to deal with all this on Monday again. I'll work with one of them and somehow I'll make it awkward because I won't want to talk about what happened. Someone will say they're sorry and give me a hug because that's what they always do. They'll smile fakely and tell me I'm being too sensitive and that I'm a drunken rambler, and I'll put on the facade that they're right and I'm sorry for putting them through it.

Really, though...I'm not sorry. I'm not who they make me out to be and I'm sick of molding myself and my work habits to fit them. No more.

I wonder if I'll ever really forgive.

2005-03-30T20:00:00.000-08:00

Another day another story to share. Aaah.

So two night ago I had my first Spanish class. Way late, too, which always sucks. From 6:30 to like 9, I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

Anyhow, I've taken quite a bit of spotty foreign language in my day; 7 years of French, 2 years of German, signed up for Japanese once and one day of Latin. They're not what I'd call my favorite classes, but they're not too bad. Just tedious. Well, at OSU, you really dive in head first. Your first day of an intro level language is taught completely in that language, as are all the others. The professor said about 25 words in English and we had to try and decipher the rest. I wasn't really surprised by this, but some of the others seemed stunned.

Being the self confidant blob that I am, I found myself in a class comprised mostly of guys. Not just guys...HOT guys. Needless to say, I was really freaked out and got quiet. As the class started, though, I forgot about all of them except for Brian, Ralph and Kyle, who sat all around me. The prof starts asking individuals what they did for spring break, and Ralph pipes up that he and Kyle just got back from Cancun, a Spanish speaking country. The prof jested that it wasn't really a spanish speaking country, considering the tourism, and Ralph looks at me and says, "Try ordering drinks if you don't speak Spanish, huh huh huh." ...Meathead...

Then, as the class starts up and we start interacting, I realize that Brian, Ralph and Kyle are idiots and have no idea what's going on. They all lean over to me at different times asking what's going on. Then, when I have to interact with them, they get stuck and I quietly mouth the answers so they don't look stupid in front of the class.

...apparently, I fried my brain doing that, because when it was my turn to be called on, all I had to do was respond to "What is your name?" and I brain farted. My response was *pause...* ...damnit! Which apparently the prof thought was hilarious and translated it for me.

And so, class ended, I got up the next morning and went to Stats again, then went to exchange the weird wrong English book. When I came home to read said English book, I couldn't find any of my text...then I saw it. The syllabus said "Norton's Anthology of English Literature vol. 2"...

I have Norton's Anthology of English Literature vol. 1...

@*#&$%*

Another trip to the bookstore tomorrow...but ahh well.

In other news, LOST is new tonight, so I'm really really excited; saw the creepiest guy ever come out of the porn section of Waterbeds and Stuff; dieting...doing terribly..ate a candy bar while I was writing this and some...other stuff...; hung out with Mom today, had a great time; did my homework and felt awesome about it; talked with Ex again, still think he's an ass, he doesn't seem to get it, have stopped caring.

The end!

Let the adventures begin!

2005-03-29T02:28:00.000-08:00

School's started again and the university has granted me another quarter in their good grace to get my act together.

And you know? Without the burden of classes that ask unreasonable amounts of time from me, and ask me to do things I simply cannot do, I think it's going to be a great quarter for once. (I'm going on record here as saying that. Someone remind me of my motivation in about 2 weeks.)

The adventures have already begun though.

Take yesterday, for instance. I had Stats at 8:30 in a familiar building and room, got there with time to spare, even though it was a crappy, rainy day. I'm not a "front-sitter", as I like to call them. Nor am I an "edger" when I attend lecture. I usually sit in the center of the room in the center of the isle so I look interested, yet don't have to be attentive when I start to nod off.

So, I'm sitting, casually observing people coming and going whilst I doodle on my notebook, and I realize that there are a ton of people in this lecture. "Well, silly. It's stats. Everyone takes stats, for the most part.." I said to myself. At that point, a jolly round woman entered the stage area and flicked on her overhead. She seemed like a nice enough sort, and started scribbling her name and office hours an a transparency for us to copy. I did, of course, and she waited for stragglers before beginning the introduction.

"I see we have a full house this quarter," she said jovially. "Welcome to Math 153."

I looked up, stunned. No frigging way. This was a joke. I looked around at the books being produced in tandem with the instructor showing us what we would need. Not the books I bought...they didn't even SAY statistics on them! Frantically, I at my neighbors, then around the room, praying I would see someone stand.

No one did.

Holy shit, I'm in the wrong place!

Then I was at an impass. There was no graceful way I could get out of the room unnoticed. Sitting in the middle suddenly had a horrible disadvantage. I couldn't avoid the inevitable rustle of coats, umbrellas and bookbags to make a silent escape, but neither could I hurt my think muscle by sitting through a math class, of all things. The lecture was getting going, three words out of her mouth and I had no clue what she was talking about, so I had only one option. FLEE.

I scooped up my books and coat and umbrella and papers and started pardon-me-ing myself out of the isle, which seemed to take years. Then I practically sprinted up the stairs and bolted out of the room, making my way a few buildings over, red faced, to a computer lab where I could check my schedule.

Class started in the same room at 9:30.

So, yeah. That was embarassing as hell. No biggie, though, I just hit High and bought my books. Or so I thought...

So today, I got up and was having a pretty good morning...the day was gorgeous..worked out, feelin good, fought with Ex and pretty much decided he was the worst person I've ever met in my life. (Long story. Apparently he wants to pretend like nothing ever happened, and since I'm his "friend", he thinks it's okay to treat me like shit because that's how he treats his friends, and uses what happened as fodder for ridicule. Wow, totally not okay, but he won't stop so a-fahck yew.)

I felt crappy about that until I stepped outside into a GLORIOUS spring morning, and all those troubles seemed suddenly as insignificant as he truly is. Got to English class about 5 minutes late and ended up sitting in the front corner in a lefty desk. Bah!

So the TA seems like a nice lady. A little flighty...the class (knock on wood) is going to be easy compared to what I've done so far, British Lit after 1800..no biggie. So, I'm sitting there with my fat body all twisted so I can write, and there's this other girl not far from me who is like the biggest know-it-all I've ever seen in my life. At first, it was kind of funny. The TA took roll and asked us each what our favorite book was (barring any real answer, I defaulted with the last book I read, Paradise Lost, and anything by HP Lovecraft), and this chick commented that she had read almost every single one mentioned. I don't really see how that's possible, but ooookay, chickie.

So then, TA is giving our lecture, an intro to 1800 and what was going on at the time, and she puts up this classical old painting that has a weird representation of Lincoln on it, yet the painting predates him. Obviously, there was a mistake, and the TA apologized that she wasn't sure what exactly this was, and the girl like popped out of her seat and started explaining what the piece meant. I'm not sure if I was the only one that wanted to throw her out the window or not, but the urge was strong.

To top off that frosty experience, I got the wrong frigging books. Norton's Anthology of English Literature, silly...NOT Longman's Anthology of British Literature. e_e

So noooow...I'm just waiting for the late Spanish class to start. I'm sure it'll be an experience, too. Ole!

The Pecking Order

2005-03-28T16:15:00.000-08:00

Well, as expected, Easter came and went, and what in interesting and frightening time it was at the ol' bakery. Let's start from the beginning.

For the past few years, I've considered myself to be one of the managers. Not because I was ever actually given the title, but because I've been there so long and remain one of the senior employees. Granted, there are people (like Judy) who have logged more hours than I have because they don't have school interfering, but there's something to be said for good old fashioned seniority. Anyway, holidays are always a busy time with lots of people working together who normally might not, this can be really fun or really horrifying. This year, it was horrifying.

Thursday was busy, but a pretty normal day. Nothing out of the ordinary to report, but I could already tell from my mood alone that the tension was going to start building. People were getting sick of working as the week wore on.

Friday is when the shit hit the fan. I went in at 8 am, not an unGodly time to go, but I ended up staying an hour past my shift end, giving me a 9 hour day with no break and no chance to pee, let alone sit down and rest my feet for a minute. The knead lasted from 8-12, about two hours longer than normal and the order of the day was Honey Bunnies. For those of you who don't know, these are bunnies made out of bread that come in large and small sizes. Not hard, but very tedious to make. And boy, did we make them. Literally hundreds...and we all know I'm not one to have a scrap of self confidence in anything, but I have to say that among the people who know how to make them, I'm one of the better ones. Why, I don't know, but I've been told numerous times that my bunnies are a bit cuter than the other ones, and I know how to produce them at a relatively fast rate with high accuracy. Despite this, and despite my best efforts at managing the production...I was the youngest member of the team, with the most experience, and pride alone would not allow the older folks to listen to my instruction. It simply didn't work.

As a result, we got way behind and this set the tone for the rest of the day, which was spent bagging bread, cleaning up our own messes, baking, organizing and waiting on customers at break-neck speed. Communication was bad, we were all pissed all day, and it was generally counterproductive.

Then came Saturday...

I was in a terrible mood when I went in at 6, because I was sick of the place and wanted to have a day of vacation on my only Spring Break. Still, I went with a smile on my face to make the best of the day. Production started as normal, and the less experienced hands had been replaced with younger, faster, more seasoned bunny-makers, proving to be very effective. Nothing went wrong exactly with production this time, but morale was extremely low.

Everything started to go wrong when one member of the team, the only person who had been there longer than I had at that point, started getting her rocks off by teasing me about giving instruction to the people who were no good at making bunnies. She was laughing her head off, and though I may have been overly sensitive about it, I didn't find it at all funny. I just wanted to get done.

...so yeah, that got old pretty damn fast, but she kept at it, so I decided to go back and do some dishes just to get away from her. Back at the sink, where I was washing dishes, Judy came back to me and saw my displeasure. This opened the floodgates for complaining, and she started in about something that was bothering her. We were speaking quietly, and another employee shouts back to us, "Why don't you guys speak up, we can't hear you!"

Alright, now, afterwards, I found out that this comment was not made with malicious intent, but it seemed that way and Judy and I both were furious. The worker was basically calling us out on gossiping, which wasn't what was going on (in my case), in front of everyone else including our boss. Regardless, it made things extremely tense for the rest of the day. I was so mad I couldn't see straight. I did angry mopping in the back room and made the floor all shiney.

When that settled, everything was a-okay, but at the time it was among the moments I've hated most at the bakery. I love my job, but man alive...there's something wrong when the tension gets that high for such stupid reasons. I definately had a direct hand in it this time, but that place is like a small town when it comes to gossip.

...it's Desperate Housewives! Bakery edition!

SWEET!

Asshoooolo mio...

2005-03-24T17:12:00.000-08:00

Well sheesh, I had this really ranty post all typed up about this horrible experience I had on Monday night at my good friend's birthday dinner, and it didn't go through. Curse you blogspot!

Long story short? The father of her baby is the biggest asshole I've ever met in my entire life. He's the friend of another one of our friends, let's call her Fran, and I have no clue how Fran ever got involved with him to begin with. I figure, when you're out to dinner with a bunch of people you don't know, you might want to employ the basic rules of ettiquette, particularly at a semi-nice restaurant.

No. Drink like a fish, insult the waitress, inappropriate sexual innuendoes that offended women you didn't know, being rude to the mother of your baby and not even making it look like you THOUGHT about paying for her birthday dinner....how classless can you really be? Honestly!

Not to mention the friend he brought, who made it a point to comment on the ideas he what "dad" could do to "mom's" boobs, since they've gotten bigger in pregnancy, even though "all y'need is a mouthful! Hur hur hur!"

Maybe some people are born with a neanderthal gene. I don't know, but I'd LOVE to pay some researcher to find out. Either way, I feel really bad for my friend. She's stuck with this guy in her life for the next 18 years whether she wants him there or not, and I'm pretty resolved to be a big old bitch if he doesn't hold up his end of this child rearing bit. The guy can't pay for her birthday dinner...I cringe at what he's going to be stingy on when the baby comes.

It's a Sunshine Daaay!

2005-03-22T18:54:00.000-08:00

It's not often when a day that turns out awesome comes along, but today was one of those days.

Got all that school crap that was stressing me out all taken care of...I'm still a student at THE Ohio State University! And, I'm now an English major with a completed core of medieval and renaissance lit.

I'm also the proud owner of a brand new HP Persario Compaq notebook PC! Squee!

Now I'm going to have a screen without pink and green lines through it...I can actually use Microsoft Works...and maybe...just maybe...I can have WALLPAPER that shows up! AHH!

Goddamnit (my affectionate name for my old machine) has been good to me these last 5 years, but it's time to part ways, I'm afraid. It's been a good run...happy times and sad...stickers on my tower unit...went through college together...but hey..

Out with the old and in with the new!

Trains of thought in boredom...

2005-03-17T09:05:00.000-08:00

Tonight I will drink the Guinness because it is appropriate to do so on St. Patrick's Day.
I am not Irish.
I don't like corned beef and cabbage.
Cabbage smells like a fart when it's cooked.

My Sim graduated from college today.
She had an A+ when she was finished and was happily engaged to a charming young man.
I find it amusing that I can simulate a successful college career while being unable to live out one.
I wish school and social interaction was as easy as it looks.

I have a yellow LiveStrong bracelet on that doesn't represent cancer.
It represents my support for the troops. And Endomeitrosis.

I had an amazing RP last night with a friend.

I haven't spoken to the people that anger me in over a week, and I've had a wonderful week.

I took a test to see what level of Dante's Inferno I'd end up in, and it was the Malevolage.
That scares me.
I retook the test and ended up in Purgatory, what's up with that?

I don't really believe in Purgatory. I don't believe in levels of Hell, either. The most horrifying concept of Hell I can think of is the reality that once you're there, it's too late. There's no repenting after that. It is your eternity.

I decided just now to write these in paragraph form, rather than a laundry list. I don't know why, but I often feel that change keeps things fresh.

I didn't have fruit in my cereal this morning, and the freezedried strawberries in my Special K are a poor substitute. I long for Georgia peaches and pecans.

There will be no Tybee this year for my family. They told me two days ago that we couldn't afford it, so the next day at work, 3 people spoke of Savannah with me. I miss my beloved southern gem of a city. If I'm not married or in a significant relationship by 30, I'm moving there.

I hate being poor.

Soon I'll be buying a new laptop for myself. I've never made a purchase like this before, and will finance half the cost. I'm excited about it. I'm resolved to make the purchase on my own, without my father's help, because women should be able to do so and often can't.

I dislike mothers who send their children into my store to make a purchase. Yesterday, a little red-haired boy, no more than 6, came into the bakery when I was busy with customers. Kay didn't wait on him, but I stopped my transaction to say hello, and he told me what his mother wanted to buy. I told him I'd be with him in an moment, and he nodded. Very polite young man. An instant later, his mother entered and Kay went to the counter. She proceeded to yell at Kay and I for ignoring her son when he was a legitimate customer. Kay told her I hadn't seen him, which was a lie. I looked at the boy and asked what he wanted, and the mother was offended and left. The next customer who watched the exchange looked at me with that wide-eyed "I can't believe what a psycho that lady was" expression and we ended up making jokes about it.

I love when customers make jokes.

I honestly don't know if I give a good blowjob or not. I've given three in my whole life, and don't trust the opinions of any of the guys. I've now thought on this for two days, and I don't have any idea what brought it up in my mind.

I miss Where's Waldo puzzles.

There is nothing better than rum. I just combined a half a bottle of rum with a half a bottle of vodka, and I call my new concoction Rumka. I should sell this stuff. I'd make a fortune.

Growing up little by little....

2005-03-16T16:15:00.000-08:00

Today at work, Kelly and I were talking about growing up. She didn't really know that's what we were talking about, but that's what it was.

I love Kelly. She's 18 and has dreams bigger than anyone else I know. She's smart as a whip and writes me under the table, but is a little bit naive when it comes to the ways of the world. That's okay though, she's just a kid. She hasn't even gone to college yet, so she's got a lot to learn, though, there are many things she's got a 1up on me about...I find myself asking questions to her that I never dreamed I'd be asking someone 5 years my junior.

Anyhow, she's gotten to the point in her life where changes come and there isn't a lot you can do about it. Like me, she has a really tight group of friends that have been together now for 4 years or more and are all getting ready to split up and go to college. It depresses her that her comfortable social bubble is about to pop, but it's something that happens to all of us eventually. All of us with friends anyway, heheh.

It got me to thinking about my years in high school and the people that I've lost touch with. Now it doesn't seem so bad, really. I go though my day and think on Jeff and Mike, wonder how they are and then my mind is someplace else. They're always there, lurking in my memories, but never long enough to prompt me to pick up the phone and really see how they are. Why don't I do that?

Back then, the worst thing I could think of was losing the people I had come to know and care about. My group was everything to me...we'd had our troubles, sure, but we all were good friends and I thought nothing would ever really break that up. Nothing really has...they'll always be my friends, even if they're not here in my presence. I tried to explain that so that it would make it easier, but I think I did the opposite.

The fact of the matter is, things change. People come and go from our lives...they always have, and they always will. It's the same for everyone. I wonder if I've ever been a person lamented for leaving another's life. I don't think I have...and probably never will be, but I've certainly had my fair share of people who have vanished from my daily life that I miss so much. It makes me want to cherish the people I have now, so that when they do go, I'll have no regrets...but at the same time, it makes me want to push them away so that when they go, I'll feel no pain. It's the worst kind of pain to believe you've been forgotten...and some of the most important people who have shaped my life have also forgotten I existed.

I'd like to think I encouraged her that it was going to be alright...that even that kind of hurting will go away eventually. It's so hard to grow up, you know? Everything changes with the passage of time, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. It's because of our inability to avoid it that we fear it so much, and it's the fear that makes us miserable. She was almost in tears over it tonight, and I was almost there with her, only because I knew what she was going through. If I could stop time for her and let her do everything she could possibly want with her friends before they went their seperate ways, I'd do it because I didn't have the opportunity for myself....yet day by day, I meet people and see old friends and know that we're all so young. Our lives are just beginning, and the future is always going to be uncertain...but sometimes, it can be as exciting as it is scary. Carpe diem, right?

I love this song.

2005-03-15T13:55:00.000-08:00

A single thread in a tapestry,
Though its color brightly shine,
Can never see its purpose,
In the pattern of the grand design.

And the stone that sits on the very top,
Of the Mountain's mighty face,
Does it think it's more important,
Than the stones that form the base?

So how can what you see what your life is worth?
Or where your value lies?
You can never see through the eyes of man..
You must look at your life,
Look at your life through heaven's eyes.

A lake of gold in the desert sand,
Is less than a cool, fresh spring.
And to one lost sheep, a shepard boy,
Is greater than the richest King.

If a man loses everything he owns,
Has he truly lost his worth?
Or is it the beginning,
Of a new and brighter birth?

So how do you measure the worth of a man,
In wealth or strength or size?
In how much he gained, or how much he gave?
The answer will come...
The answer will come to him who tries,
To look at his life through heaven's eyes.

And that's why we share all we have with you,
Though there's little to be found.
When all you've got is nothing,
There's a lot to go around.

No life can escape being blown about,
By the winds of change and chance.
And though you never know all the steps...
You must learn to join the dance.

So how do you judge what a man is worth,
By what he builds or buys?
You can never see with your eyes on Earth,
Look through heaven's eyes.

Look at your life.
Look at your life.
Look at your life through heaven's eyes.

She will be loved...

2005-03-15T04:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, after the nightmare that was my final exam, my brother came home and we hung out. You know, it's weird, but there are times when he absolutely annoys the piss out of me, but for the most part, he really is one of my best friends. He cracks me up pretty regularly and I crack him up too, but mostly it's just that he's one of the most generous people I've ever met.

It was silly, we both love Moulin Rouge, Kevin because he wishes he could make a movie like that and loves the music in it, me because Ewan McGregor is the most adorable thing I've ever seen. We've also both seen the movie 1,000 times and can recite it verbatem, which we did. Sitting down in the family room, we started just watching it...then doing lines from it, then singing -- in harmony! -- the parts of the songs. It would have been stupid if anyone else had been there, but at that moment I felt more like my real self than I have in months. It was so incredibly fun, and we were in tears laughing at one another. So today? I'm really, really thankful for Kevin.

Along that same line, I'm pretty sure I busted my ass in Political Science, but I'm still going to do badly in it. If that happens, I run the risk of long term ramifications from the University, since this isn't the first difficulty I've had; If I had my way, I would just quit and get a job so I could have my own place and start my life, but my parents are dead set against that. They want me to finish school...or, rather...they demand I finish school. I'd been saying I was worried about this class for the last two weeks, when I really put in the extra effort to pull it out, and I thought for sure they would be furious at me for not doing well on my final because of what will happen...

...but last night, my parents came into my room and told me that they were proud of me for working so hard. Whatever happens, happens, and it's okay with them. I felt like a failure, and they said I wasn't. They are overwhelmingly supportive of me, even in my flaws.

And then, to top it off, I had a brief, but very enjoyable conversation with one of my best good friends, and am looking forward to her birthday dinner later on in the week.

So go figure, huh? I thought yesterday would be a bad day in a lot of ways, but because of my family and my friends, it turned out great. I'm really blessed to have such a strong family, and so many people I know don't, which I think is absolutely tragic. They may not see it that way, but I know I get strength from my family that I don't get elsewhere. My weight and my looks have always been an issue for me, preventing me from getting ahead in love, my fear of confrontation has prevented me from being treated fairly at work, but when I'm with my family and those few really amazing friends I've always had, none of that matters.

It's so wonderful to be loved.

OMGWTFVAGUE

2005-03-14T09:48:00.000-08:00

I'm vague.

Holy sheep shit, people. I'm going to be a failure in life and college because I'm too fucking vague.

Political Science, apparently, is something in which it's necessary to be specific. Hell, when I wrote that paper on the interaction between Syria and Israel, I thought I was being really specific...that was some quality shit right there.

D. No, student. Too vague.

Okay, fair enough. So I write a paper on the Gender Gap in the United States, the causes behind it, complete with numbers and ratios and figures, then looking ahead and applying those figures I projected the success of Hilary Clinton as a candidate. That was some quality shit, too.

D. No, student. Too vague.

Okay, fine. So give me that stupid midterm. Awesome...essay questions, I'm great at these.

E. No, student. Too vague.

What the bloody fuck?

I'm so finished with this stupid crap. It's not worth the stress it causes, I swear.

If I'm in school next quarter, great. If not, I'm not going to freak out about it. Freaking out would be way to specific an emotion anyway. I'm going to start embracing my flaw of vagueity. It'll be easy.

Name: Brooke (Last names are too specific)
Age: twentysomething
Height: short
Weight: fat
Eye color: light
Hair: yes
Favorite Band: musical
Favorite Animal: quadripeds
Favorite Food: chinese
Favorite Book: fantasy
Favorite Person: friends
Favorite Show: abc
Favorite Song: rock

Yes. Vague. Grey. I'm grey! Screw this! ARG!

A fishing metaphor for life

2005-03-08T17:17:00.000-08:00

Did you ever know one of those people...those magnetic kinds of people, you know the ones I mean...

They reach out to you and throw you a line instinctively, because that's who they are, and they hook you somehow. You realize you're entralled with them, you want to talk to them at every chance you get...it doesn't have to be a romantic attraction at all...just the desire to be as important to that person as they are to you.

The worst feeling in the world is knowing that no matter what you do, you'll -never- be to them what they are to you. They hooked you and tied you to the side of the boat, wriggling, and walked away. While you're there, and you keep trolling along behind the boat, waiting to see if they'll come back, you start to feel a little forgotten, or bitter. It's easy to feel that way, and to get angry that they led you on. Then, out of nowhere, they come back for a while and reel you in a bit. This is your oppotunity to say how frustrated you are, but you don't...you enjoy them while they're there and are dumbfounded when they leave you to swim along again. Then, when you've finally convinced yourself that you don't care anymore, and are ready to pull out the hook and swim away completely, you realize there's someone swimming next to you, that they've done the same thing to. They're smiling at them, reeling THEM in, but not you. They see you, but they don't care either.

What IS that? How do I let myself get hooked so many times only to be left swimming behind the boat and wondering where they went? Why do I feel so bad when they pay attention to someone else, but not me? I shouldn't care, they're not worth the effort it takes to care...but I DO...and I can't stop.

This is all stemming from something different than you might thing from my previous posts. While I should feel completely abandoned by that guy, I don't...really. I mean, I kinda do, but it's not as bad as say, a friend I really, really REALLY enjoyed RPing with, and pretty much forgot I ever lived to begin with. I had this issue before, and it went away when I removed him from my buddy list, but it came back, completely unprovoked. WTF?

Then, you have my old youth pastor, who I've been thinking about lately. He's good about responding to me when I reach out to him, but bad about reaching out on his own. He's one of those guys who gets into you and inspires you at important times in your life. The problem is, he's like that to a lot of people, he's so special to me, but to him, I'm one of 100 others, and not in his top 10. That's a painful thing to realize!

But there again, that's what comes with putting your trust and happiness in someone else's hands. It almost always ends in heartache for you. It's funny how I've let myself get wrapped up in things I don't have any control over, and it all kind of came crashing down at once. Really, thanks to that guy (mostly) I've never been at such an emotional low. Recognizing that, though, is the first step to changing it. It doesn't really make me angry that my reality is filled with abandonment, as well as my virtual reality, as it were, but it does strengthen my growing conviction that people just plain suck.

---

Blah, I have to stop. I was having a conversation that I thought was working things out from the previous post that completely went south.

Awesome. It never ends.

Another twist of the dagger

2005-03-04T08:38:00.000-08:00

Okay, this is me beating a dead horse. Ready? Go.

So this whole thing with this guy keeps getting re-opened and shut again. For a while there, I was feeling pretty good about it, or at least I wasn't thinking about it so much. I think the problem might be that I can't seem to make up my mind whether I want to give him the finger and tell him to go fuck himself, or if I'm strong enough to keep talking to him. At this point, I'm not sure I can do either. Let's examine why, shall we?

Option 1: Fuck you, dickwad.

---This is my gut instinct. You should always follow your gut. The problem with this is that I only feel this way sometimes. Not enough to warrant me justifying this. The other problem is that this option wouldn't affect him one way or another. I'm still on the defense in this because I'm the only one who still really cares. This decision will ultimately have an impact on me and my emotions rather than him..and that's not what I want. I'm tired of him making ME feel crappy. This is 100% my fault. I care enough that I let him dictate how I'm feeling on a given day, which is why this is an attractive option. It shouldn't be that way, and though that is slowly becoming less and less of an issue, it isn't in my nature to be mean and nasty and do something like this. I would want to do it if it means I get to wound him the way he wounded me by rejecting him...only, he would have to give a rat's ass about me to begin with, and he doesn't.

Option 2: Okay, I can get over this. Let's be friends.

--- Do I look like a doormat to you? This is the option of defeat. This is me caving in and crawling on my belly, hoping that things will go back to the way they were before we even got into this idiocy. But it can't ever be the same. I bared my soul for him against my better judgement, how do you just go back to a time before that? I've always wanted to be more to him than a name, and for a while there, I thought I was. I realize that's not the case, that he doesn't look past the name on his screen on a daily basis...his universe revolves around a few things, and though by rights, I should still be one of them because of what I tried to give him, I'm not. And because I'm not, I don't want to make him part of mine. If he wants to be my friend, he has to be part of my world the way my other friends are, and I don't think I want him coming in just to poop all over the landscape.

Option 3: Wallow until it goes away.

--- This is my least favorite option. For no reason do I want to make another angsty blog entry like this one, where I give him a nano-second more of my precious thought. He doesn't deserve it. He should be nothing more than a mistake to me, something I learned from. So I can keep going though this cycle. Forget him until something dredges this up again, and let it be awful until I forget him again. The next time, it's not so bad, it doesn't last as long, I don't feel bitter or like crying when I see his name this time, and slowly it repeats until he becomes a non-issue.

So what exactly is the problem anyway? Why do I keep letting this get to me?
It's really quite simple.

1. I like him. For all my anger, I love talking to him. He's funny, he's smart, he's every bit as wonderful as I've always thought he was since the first time I talked to him.
2. I've let him get into me to the point that he occupies my thoughts when I'm not sitting here writing things like this.
3. I know for a bloody fact that he doesn't think about me. Ever.
4. He writes what he cares about. He wrote about her when he was with me, he wrote about her when he wasn't.
5. I told my friends and my family I had met someone amazing. He told...uh...wait...oh! No one! Awesome. Thanks.
6. None of this will matter to him. Even if, for some reason, he reads this, it won't matter. All is right in his world, and I'm not part of it. I never was. So all of this is nothing but me.
7. He doesn't want to fix it, because he doesn't really care. He admitted he forgot about me. He'll forget about me again.

A friend told me last night that he was talking about me. He said he wanted to know how to fix it because he cared, and if she knew a way he could, to let him know.

I wish I could believe he was don't something other than blowing smoke. He's done nothing to show me that those are anything but words. What more can he do? Well, honestly, I don't know. The world we share is largely text based...he made be believe a lot of things using this medium, and frankly I don't feel comfortable trusting something that it would be effortless to type. I could write whatever I wanted to about him and make it seem true without an ounce of effort. So what's the answer to this?

Hell if I know. I've done my part. I know full well he'll read this eventually, and I've said it all directly to him anyway. His idea of dealing with it is to be silent and forget I exist. Believe me, if I could do that myself, I probably would. He doesn't want to have a talk about this, he doesn't want a fight, and he knows he'll get one if he speaks up. While yes, it's the easier choice, it's not the one that's ultimately going to fix the problem. If he could just show me that he regrets what he did without it looking like a manipulation, if he could just be...I don't know...fucking...miserable about it...feel a fraction of the pain he inflicted on me, I would feel better.

But he won't.
Everything is right in his universe because I'm not in it.
I was an idiot to think I ever really was, and stupider for giving him the satisfaction of knowing that I even give him a moment's thought.

...let the wallowing continue...

Thou Shalt Not Be A Prick

2005-03-02T19:40:00.000-08:00

http://middle_americaworldview.blogspot.com/ -- Friend of a friend's recent entry

WARNING: I am not a Liberal, nor do I harbor beliefs supporting those of Liberals, if you ARE a Liberal..I'd stop reading....

....
..

Now.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm sick and tired of the Liberal world view that we must be fair, comprimising individuals. According to the article linked in Middle_America's blog entry, there has been a viscious fight to force a judge to remove the Ten Commandments from his courtroom. I'd heard a bit about this, but was never compelled to say anything until I read MA's very good arguement.

Why are we so afraid of religion in this country?

Frankly, I'm sick and tired of the leftist minority in the United States raising Kain and dictating what the rest of us are and are not allowed to express. I'm sick of the reality that this country that is in theory a democracy is being run by extremists on both ends. How much does it really hurt anyone that the commandments are displayed in a public, government forum? That does not violate the seperation of church and state.

The Constitution forbids the creation of a state religion, and ensures the rights of all people to practice their religion as they see fit. The depiction of religious scenes in public, government land or not, is not an issue of the seperation of church and state...it's impossible to merge them simply because they have nothing to do with one another. That law was created to counter English custom that the Roman Catholic Church held nearly as much power as the federal government, it cause problems and would not be inclided in the doctrine in the new US. This is a matter of free speech.

If I have to accept the reality that a KKK psychopath can hold a rally on the lawn of my statehouse, that preachermen can call me bad names as I walk to class, that I even have to listen to the Liberal bullshit about how our government is SO bad, means that I endure as much inflammatory rhetoric as everyone else. I don't have the right to silence the KKK, or the Liberals, or the preacherman. It is their right to express themselves in any way they wish, so long as it isn't causing violence or censuring someone else.

So why, friends...why is it that Hell is raised every time someone even whispers the name of God in a public forum? Is it so bad that some of our governmental leaders hold themselves to a higher moral standard than most of the rabble? When I considered myself religious, I was never more solid in my moral beliefs, never more fair minded. I had God to hold me accountable for my daily actions, and I fail to see why exactly that should be frowned upon.

The issue here isn't even Christ. It's not even Christianity...which is the most aggressive religion I've experienced, and the one with the largest number of followers in this country. The issue is the Ten Commandments, of all things, which occured in the Old Testament, shared by Jews, Christians and Muslims...

What are the Ten Commandments you ask? And how dare they be on public display in a court of law? Let's take a look at the blasphemy, shall we?

Exodus 20:2
I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. You shall have no other gods before me. --- Okay, so if we believe this, we're not allowed to have any other gods besides the Father. Fair enough...not seeing what's so bad about this yet, but let's keep going.

You shall no make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the Lord your God am a jealous God... --- So this means, if we're going to worship God, we have to worship GOD...not a statue (golden calf), not a symbol, not TV by thinking about what's on tonight rather than how God wants you to live your life. Mmmkay...so, He wants you to be loyal to Him...loyalty became a bad thing....when?

You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses His name. --- ...we're all completely screwed here, but this would discourage anyone standing in the courtroom from saying, "Oh my God" or "God damn.." or "God, look at that lady's ass, it's huge and has a skid mark.." Still not seeing anything greatly inflammatory to the general public here...

Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not to any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. --- And no, he doesn't mean an ACTUAL alien. Holy shit though...it's displayed in a courtroom that you should... *blinks* take the day off?! Gasp...take it down! It offends me so!

Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you. --- Be nice to your parents. Your mom squeezed you out of her birth canal that is the size of a fucking lemon. She felt like she was crapping a Volkswagon the day you were born. I'm sorry, but I'm still failing to see why this is offensive.

You shall not murder. --- Don't kill people for no reason, dumbass. Good rule of thumb in general, and an ironic reminder to why you might be in court in the first place.

You shall not commit adultery. --- Like cheating on your husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend should EVER be encouraged...

You shall not steal. --- There's a brain buster.

You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor. --- Or anyone else for that matter. Don't lie. Especially in Court...you'll be thrown in the clink if you're caught. -- Wait, if that's a law that has something to do with the Ten Commandments...shouldn't it be made legal to lie? Seperation of Church and State after all!

You shall not covet your neighbor's house. You shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or his manservant or maidservant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor. --- Be happy with what you've got and stop being jealous. Generally good advice, though difficult to live by. But, widely known that you'll be happier in the longrun.

Now, if we were really talking in terms of Christianity, there might be a solid arguement. Christianity states that if you do not believe that Jesus died on the cross for your atonement, you're going to Hell. I can see how that might be offensive and could find justification in not displaying something like that where you force people to see it; (though I stand by my arguement that if you don't want to see it, close yer fuckin' eyes like everyone else.) but these are the Ten Commandments, people. Read them again...what exactly is offensive there?

And that brings me to another point...

Who has the time on their hands to fight something like this? Hippies need JOBS. Honestly, does if affect anyone THAT much that you must make a federal case out of it? (Haha, pun intended.) People who do shit like this need lives...seriously. I'm going to phone Moses and have him add another commandment to display in courtrooms. "Thou shalt not be a prick and waste thy time with bitching about things that do not really affect ye..."

This has taken so long to write, and I've been interrupted so many times, I no longer know the point I was trying to make, so for the time being, I'm going to end this here. >_< I hate when rants don't end the right way!

If being blunt is wrong, I don't wanna be right...

2005-03-01T17:07:00.000-08:00

omg, I had such a great post, and it got eaten...

;_;

Here it is in a nutshell.

I said "Fuck you, stop walking on me" to two people in the last two days, and it felt GREAT.

They still do, mind. The guy and Judy at work still use me as their doormat, whether they intend to or not...but I gave them both the finger, laid it out, and I'm feelin' fine! Woo!

Faith works?

2005-02-28T13:18:00.000-08:00

There was a time, long ago, when I considered myself to be pretty religious. I went to church on Saturday nights when the music was good and fulfilling, when my friends were there and we felt comfortable laughing with God, rather than revering Him constantly. It was the most fun I can ever remember having, and it was completely innocent, and I'll never forget how wonderful it felt to have fellowship and love every aspect of my life at once.

Then, you could call it a fall, I guess. I never forgot what it felt like to be in awe of a power greater than myself, but that feeling became overpowered by the awe of what it was like to stand still and feel like you're in motion at the same time. Instead of wholesome fellowship, I found a world of alcohol and drugs, one I didn't fit in quite as well, but made adjustments so that I would be comfortable there. What were once comprimised morals now became a new moral code in itself...

Yet, it's funny...for all the years I forgot about God, He never once forgot about me. Sure, there are things I don't have that I've always wanted. Riches for one, love for another. Some are the spiritual things I know I need to live, others are the physical things I just -want- really badly. Still, somehow, without them, I wake up each morning with a roof over my head, a family that loves me, friends that care...two legs to walk on, a mouth to eat with, two hands to do everything else. It's a life filled with blessings that I can't seem to appreciate on a regular basis. Only when God shows His face to me do I realize I don't have it so bad after all.

What brought this on you ask?

I'm not sure really.

Did I ever tell you the story of my grandma's first trip to the hospital? It was such a scary time for my family. She's my only grandma I recognize (the other is...let's not go into it), and my mom is close with her the way I'm close with my mom. Best friends, really. My mom does everything for my grandma, and it was killing her to know she was in congestive heart failure, among other things. The doctors needed to do a colonoscopy, to determine the nature of a blockage she had there...and I'll never forget my mom on the phone with the doctor saying, "What am I supposed to tell her? I don't think I can say the word cancer to her..."

So, they did the procedure...and for the first time in years, I really, really prayed that she'd be okay somehow. It was so bleak, and unlikely...but I needed her to be okay. There was a blockage in her colon...a big blotch, right where colon cancer appears...it seemed inevitable.

Then the results came back.

They didn't find anything. There was no blockage. They don't know where it went, but suddenly, it was gone. GONE. That time around, she ended up being fine.

I know most people who read this are atheists, or agnostics and think this is all coincidence and bullshit, but I've always been humble enough to know that there is much in this world I'll never understand. If it's easier for me to lump it all together into "God's Plan", then I suppose I'll continue to do that. One way or another, I know I've never been in control of my own destiny. I don't know who is, but I choose to believe it's in the hands of someone who has an ultimate goal more focused than mine will ever be.

I've been thinking a lot about my life lately, I guess. This hiatus from the fake online bullshit has done me a world of good. I realize now that my interaction with certain people was changing who I am. I'm not a depressed person...I'm happy, to a fault. And cheerful. When exactly did I lose that? And why? Really...why? The reason I had wasn't good enough even for me. I used it as an excuse to be bitter and sad all the time...which was wrong. I realized that I was happier when my world wasn't virtual...it was fun for a while, but a novelty is just that. A novelty. Not to last forever.

I guess the bottom line is, I let it all get to me and go to my head. Not just this...I forgot what was important all around, and it takes something bigger than myself to pop my ego and make me realize again that the world isn't about me...I'm but a small piece of a bigger puzzle. I was so selfish for so long. I forgot what it was like to take a step back and realize how I impact others, rather than how they impact me.

It's not a revelation that will last forever, I imagine. I'm sure the depression will come back, it always seems to...but maybe next time I can step back and look at these words and realize that all I have to do is lay myself in the control of something I know won't let me down.

Sometimes...

2005-02-22T21:49:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you just want to make an impression on someone.
Sometimes you want to know you're in someone else's thoughts.
Sometimes, even if makes you sad to know it's not how you want it to be, you want to know you're not forgotten.
Sometimes you just want to know you exsist outside your own reality.
Sometimes you wish you meant more to someone else than you do to yourself.
Sometimes it makes you cry.
Sometimes it makes you laugh.
Sometimes you're bitter.
Sometimes you're angry.
Sometimes you're hateful.
Always you're ugly.
Sometimes you want to be mentioned, to know you did something worth mentioning.
Sometimes you want to stop caring.
Sometimes you actually do.
Most of the time you don't.
Most of the time it humbles you.
Sometimes you want to be heard.
Sometimes you want to be quiet.
Sometimes you want sympathy.
Sometimes you want to slit your wrists.
Sometimes you want to be buried alive.
Always you're too afraid.
Always you're forgotten, and always you will live in your sorrow, and none will ever care.

Have a Nice Afterlife

2005-02-22T10:21:00.000-08:00

I must be bipolar.

Depression hit me today like a Mack truck. It's so juvenile and angsty...I realized that there are honestly people at Ayenee.org that make me miserable. That's so wrong, considering it's just a stupid messageboard, but it's true.

So, I'm leaving. For good. Period. It'll take some will power to stop looking at the boards, but I'll manage.

I also abandoned my old screenname. No more spacey_case, no more Mayu, no more moderator, no more Brooke. It's been a long time coming. Right now, as I write this on the brink of tears, the only thing I really want to do is just slip away. If I died today, it wouldn't matter. I could just let whatever this is bleed out until its gone, and I go with it.

I told one person I was feeling this way, and he dismissed me. He said it scared him, but, bye bye, have a nice afterlife. I want to do it just to spite him, if I thought it mattered at all. I want to hurt everyone as much as they've been hurting me, but deep down I know that's not possible.

I don't even know what brought this on.

It doesn't matter anyway, I'm too scared to go through with it. Instead, I'll end up smoking a bowl, which I haven't done in years and keep talking to the few people I know would care if I was gone. It's not them I want to hurt...it's everyone else.

Just Call Me Monet...

2005-02-22T06:26:00.000-08:00

The strangest things can happen when you don't expect them...

Yesterday, Kyle called me to ask where I was. Home, of course. Where else would I be? Apparently, I was scheduled to work and didn't know it, so I had to go in for an unexpected short shift, which just soured my mood.

Still, for as annoying as that was, when I got there, my boss was far too jovial and friendly for me to stay mad for long. He knew he'd made a mistake on the schedule, and forgotten my paycheck to boot, but he was so damn happy that I couldn't bring myself to be grouchy to him, as usual. I guess that's a good thing, but it's so hard to be a disgruntled employee when your boss is a nice guy!

Anyway, rambling...

About 15 minutes later, I got a call from my boss' wife, the co-owner of the bakery, who I've never been all that fond of. She has her moments, but she's not like Ron. Regardless, she, too was in an extremely good mood for some reason. She'd called to speak to me, joked that I was so late (haha, yes, hilarious) and then asked me if I'd seen the bathroom yet.

Bathroom? WTF? The ugly purple cave in the back?

Apparently, they'd repainted and put down a lovely new lenolium (sp?) floor. That's all well and good, but not something I'd write home about. Then, she asked me if I had any free time in the next few days, which I don't, really. Long story short, she and Ron want to commission me to paint a mural on the bathroom wall.

I'm sorry, but how cool is that? I'm nothing but a dabbling artist with 2 art classes under my belt...and they want me to lead the project, they'll pay me a bit of extra green for my effort, AND, my work gets pretty public exposure. The best part about this is...no one can take the credit from me this time.

Flashback to 4 years ago....

The side of our 17,000 oven is white and boring. I was asked to design a mural for that too...I decided on a jungle background, a huge tree, Ron and Mary in cartoon form with armfulls of Great Harvest Bread, running from a pack of hungry wild animals. Not symbolic in any way...just something for the kids to see during tours.

The problem was, they wanted to do it was spraypaint, and I have no experience with it. So, I completed the design on paper, and gave it to another kid, Ian, who was an art student, and whose parents worked at the bakery with me.

Personally? I think he butchered my work. I know that sounds extremely arrogant, but the line is all wrong, he did a great job on the background, but the foreground characters are sloppy and amateur. The worst part about it was that from then on, it was "Ian's Mural". His parents dragged customers back there to see it and never mentioned that they were MY characters! Mary even once said that she designed it, because she'd suggested that I draw jungle animals.

I know, I know...it's very wrong of me to be bitter about something as trivial as that, but I'm anal about giving credit where credit is due, and often times, that leaves me completely unappreciated....but dammit, when I do something like that, I want to at least get a shout out!

My art has improved immensely since then...so this wheatfield should be a walk in the park, if I can pull it off. It's incredibly flattering to be asked to do something like this, even if it is just a bathroom. They are actually also putting my work on the next coupon mailers, for even wider exposure. Not that I think this is going to get me a job with Disney, or anything...but if the GH franchise likes what I do, there could be some advertising work for me in Montana...and that would be awesome.

Besides, I think I've grown really attached to the Great Harvest name. They've shaped who I am in a big way.

They also made me fat. But, that's neither here nor there.

---------------------------------------

So for today, I have to get my head out of the paintcan as it were and concentrate on this work. It's all about willpower from here on out.

Simple Pleasures

2005-02-21T00:44:00.000-08:00

So in class today, where I try to remain obscure, my english professor (a strange bird, truth be told, but a brilliant mind. And an air force captain -- how cool is that?) handed me back my second midterm. C. Not bad...but I can do better. My last one was a B, and I'm revising that for a higher grade.

What was so weird about this, though, is that I never say -anything- in that class, and during the break, I sat reading her comments, which consisted of:

Too vague!!
What??
Generalizing!
Not relevant.
Says nothing.

...and looking quite dejected. She looked at the expression on my face, and came over to me to say chin up, many people had that problem and to try not to do that on my paper.

That's really silly, I know, but for as scary as this woman is (she yelled at the class last week...I mean YELLED...because most of us didn't have our paper topics written down on 3x5 note cards), I'm astonished by how encouraged I felt. She didn't even really -say- anything great...but it was nice to know that she actually cared enough to be supportive without having to comprimise her standards.

It makes me pleased to be a student and want to work hard to show her what I'm able to do. It's too bad it's taken THIS long to realize how rewarding it can be...and how rare it is to find a teacher that is really that passionate about teaching.

Then, she commented that our papers were due today, and my heart stopped. She was mistaken, of course...but my friend and I looked at eachother like we'd each eaten a bug, and this hot guy behind me was like, "Oh shiiiit." All in all, a good day.

Now? It's time to explicate a long poem for this report, and hopefully I can do it well. I want it to be impressive...but we'll see. This, tempered with the President's Day West Wing marathon on Bravo, and a thrilling RP session that will no doubt happen later today, and I would have to set February 21, 2005 in the "Days I'm Glad I Lived For" category.

Simple pleasures, dear readers, is the key to a happy life.

Realizations v1.0

2005-02-20T22:34:00.000-08:00

All I have to say is this...

I will never take anything at face value.
I will never judge a book by its cover.
I will never allow my life to be dictated by someone who communicates in a text-only medium.

...that's all.

Warning: Depression post

2005-02-18T20:00:00.000-08:00

You know, I really can't stand that my life is dictated by so many other people. I find it disgusting that my happiness, my daily life is contingent upon what everyone else is doing or saying or experiencing. Why do I care so much about everyone else? Who gives a shit who is moving in with who? Or who cares that someone isn't getting the hours they need at work? Apparently, I do. And I'm tired of it.

When I woke up this morning, I was as together as I've ever been. It was awesome. I rolled out of bed and had my breakfast, felt rested and relaxed, then went to Campus for some extra credit work. I felt so confidant that I talked to other people and everything (big deal for me), I laughed with a girl about something random, took my surveys, then bought a few CDs for myself at the bookstore. So far, so good.

Then I went to work...

Okay, no big deal. I like work, for the most part. The morning started off well, even though Judy was being insufferable about her bad hip again, I dealt...smiled, put on Maroon 5 and enjoyed myself.

Awesome.

Then, my boss came in...started asking me about why Jen was in such a foul mood. Am I going to lie? No. I know why. No hours. Is it her own fault? Yep. So, he proceeded to talk to me about why he was frustrated with her...now...yay for me, I'm not the topic of conversation, I felt like he was pleased with me, I can't ask for much more than that...but I do like Jen...it's shitty to hear him be so unhappy with her and on the verge of telling her to pack up and go when I -know- she could just stop bitching and everything would go back to normal.

Okay, day starts sliding downhill a bit...but you know what? I can deal.

I've been looking forward to this New York trip for a week now...but like everything good in my life, I try to be skeptically excited. Hah! Twice in recent memory I've been unapologetically happy about something or someone, and this is the second time it's been a worthless cause.

No trip. We had a cancellation, and now we can't go. One of the girls has an appointment she can't miss. It's a good reason, I don't fault anyone for that...it's just, you know, typical.

So, by now, I'm feeling pretty much like crap. All the good things about the day were sucked away, so I sat down at my keyboard looking to cheer myself up.

WRONG.

Here's the thing. I have this...person who I can't quite figure out my emotions with. With the disclaimer that this is from my bitter, tainted POV, it sort of caught me off guard. Because I have no self worth, and he apparently thought (which I now think was bullshit) I was worth the effort to take a stab at a relationship with, I jumped in. This would be the OTHER time in my life I was happy without being skeptical about it, mind you. There were some rocky issues to get over on both sides, but I was pretty convinced that this would work...and I really, really liked him. Maybe a little too much. (I won't make that mistake again.) Well, needless to say, it didn't work out. And in this whole process, I'm learning more and more about myself.

I'd never considered myself to be a bitter person before that...I guess I'd never had a guage before. You know, I thought that this whole "It's not you, it's me, I'm in love with someone else" thing would be okay with me, but you know what? It's not. It's -really- not. When it gets right down to it, I don't want that person to be happier than I am, because it's not fair. I don't feel like they deserve it because they hurt me in the process. That's awful, and I don't always feel that way...just now, when it becomes reality that I haven't moved on yet.

I don't want to be that cynical sort of person. You know the ones I'm talking about...nothing is ever good enough, there is always something negative in the picture... I don't want to be that way, but I can't see avoiding it any longer. I'm reaching a point where the reality that I'm not in control of my own happiness because I place worth on other people, or things that I have no influence over, is starting to affect my daily life. I can always be the kind of person who puts on a happy face and pretends, but rarely is it genuine. I don't kid myself into thinking that much of this is completely rational, or that I really will never be happy again, because I know I will...it's getting there, or waiting for the next good thing to come along that gets to me. I dunno...I've been waiting patiently for 22 years for something exciting to come and sweep me away, be it a person, or an experience, and it hasn't happened yet.

As for that person...I just don't know what to do anymore. There's actually a really terrible Phil Collins song that illustrates this perfectly.

I've Forgotten Everything

I've forgotten everything about you
'til someone says your name
I've forgotten all the reasons I loved you
'til someone tells me that you rang

The memories are hazy now
I don't recall at all
there's nothing, there's nothing there
just me
and I don't understand why

I can't recollect my feelings
'til someone mentions that they saw you
I really don't remember all the things you said
'til someone shows me where you live

Why is everything so hazy now
I don't recall at all
there's nothing, there's nothing there
just me
and I don't understand why

I can't recall your smile
the touch of your hand holding mine
and I can't remember why
holding you seemed so right

The memories they're hazy now
I don't recall at all
there's nothing, there's nothing there
just me
and I don't understand why

I've forgotten everything about you
'til someone says your name
I've forgotten all those reasons I loved you
'til someone tells me that you rang...

...that's pretty sums it up, I think.

When I walk away, its easy to laugh about my pain, or to joke that I was stupid enough to fall for the lines I was fed. It's easy to forget how much it really hurts until I come back here.

I don't want him out of my life, really...I just want it to stop hurting, and I'm not sure how to make that happen. He says he understands, but he doesn't. He couldn't...he never will.

So, does that mean I have to start looking out for #1? I think so. We'll see how this strange new cynical outlook works for me. It's gotta be better than what I've been doing so far...right?

Blaaaaahging

2005-02-17T09:36:00.000-08:00

And so, the young college student/closet nerd begins another harrowing, riveting blogspot sure to draw the attention of the masses....

We all know this isn't really the case. I've decided that blogging like this is really a monumental waste of time. After all, most of the ones I read are nothing but angsty bitchfests about how much their lives suck, how trod upon they are and how their love lives are emotional rollercoasters they can't seem to get off of.

But then, so are all of mine. Let's call this an attempt to change all that, and write something that's worth reading.

What's really the purpose of blogging? Whether you want to admit it or not, it's simply to get other people into your head. Some say they don't want them to be seen by their peers...but then...if that was the case, why bother publishing it on the net, I wonder?

Sure, I'll readily admit that there are a few choice people in and out of my life that I want to read this. Somehow, I think I've convinced myself that if they do, my qualms with them will vanish, because they'll realize their monumental stupidity and seek to change their behavior. And then I realize that I spend much of my free time in a fantasy world by choice...and those sorts of thoughts are nothing more than spillover.

Speaking of fantasy world, not even that seems immune to bullshit lately. The once-great RP community I so lovingly belonged to, and helped run, has gone south fast. I mean...really fast. I think people have a habit of forgetting that this stuff isn't actually real. Online, your friends are as real as you make them...I've a few that I'm not sure what I'd do without, but my enemies...the most effort I have to make to shut them up is clicking the X on my IM window. I don't care what you say...not one damn thing in this point-and-click world has to be complicated and stressful. Complicated and stressful is reserved for work, school and flesh-and-blood interactions...not this crap.

So finally, after much debate and "soul-searching"...I stepped down. No fanfare, no goodbyes...I'm still around, just not leading. No one really noticed, except a few, and that's okay. That's how it should be. Leaders come and go...I'm just there to play my game and enjoy it for what it's worth, I'm leaving politics at the door.

What's disgusting about this, though, is that I intended to use this blog to talk about the major things going on in my life at the moment...and that's one of them! This, ladies and gentlemen, is a clear sign that I need to get out more.

So that's exactly what I'm going to do. New York City, my very first trip...about 7 days and 7 hours away from the time I write this sentence. Me and three of my very best friends are going to go tear up the City (using as little money as humanly possible), hit a few clubs and forget about everything that doesn't make us thank God that we're alive. I can't recall the last time I did something like that...and that, my friends, is what this time in my life should really be about.

More to come on all this a bit later. For now, it's time for work.

Beers!

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