Saturday, January 31, 2009


This was an assignment from my American lit teacher after reading The Scarlet Letter. She wanted us to write about a place and just describe it for two pages. I began writing, and this is what I came up with. I hope you enjoy reading this. Please let me know what you think.

Another dark day coldly greets the world; the sun is unable to penetrate the thick grey shroud. The darkness chokes back any small glimmer of light. Darkness creeps through the bleak town, which seems desolate. The streets are abandoned; traffic lights vainly switch from red to green to yellow. Cars liter the streets: Most car doors are left open and keys still in the ignition. If they were left running, the batteries had long ago died. The wind plays with the bare branches of dying trees, and crumpled papers, and various pieces of garbage. Windows of the buildings lining the empty streets are shattered and cracked: Shards cover the ground. Doors are broken down or left ajar, slowly moving back and forth on rusty hinges. The sound of which is like finger nails scratching a chalkboard. The air is heavy, almost suffocating: Each inhale of air burns the lungs and leaves an acrid taste on the tongue.

The paint on the houses, in a near by development, is faded and chipping away. Some houses have completely collapsed, others are missing roofs or parts of them. Mail is scattered on the street, the ink on the envelop no longer legible. What once were carefully tended to gardens bringing forth delicate flowers, weeds and dead bushes and rotting leaves and dry dirt where there was once grass are left instead. The cement sidewalk is cracked and destroyed making it impossible to walk on.

The street leads to a house that stands alone: Darker than the others. Gnarly dead oak trees line the way leading to the door, which has been torn off one of the hinges. Inside, a violent scene unfolds. Pictures lay smashed on the floor, but the pictures that were once protected by the frames have been removed. Whoever lived in the house was a lover of books; however, all the bookshelves in the livingroom are knocked down. A trajectory of books and ripped out pages lie across the floor. There are several places where the walls have been punched through, and a stainless steel kitchen knife is wedged in the broken coffee table. It is unknown whether it was used as a weapon of defense or destruction. The walls down the hall are decorated with claw marks. Blood – most likely from a powerful blow to the head – is splattered on one of the walls and the carpet. The bedroom is a scene of wild chaos and a fight for life. Half packed suit cases lay on an unmade bed; clothes are strewn around the room; drawers are yanked out of dressers. Someone or something forced it’s way through the window. A body was thrown against the closet door: The lock of black hair left around the coat hook serves as proof. The poor soul was dragged out of the room, which explains the claw marks and blood down the hall. There’s another room further down the hall; it is the room of a young child. This room has been left untouched by the intruder. What used to be a cheery yellow room, is covered with dust. A cradle, changing table, rocking chair, night stand, and baby toys are positioned strategically around the room. Everything was once brand-new, but now the wood is starting to rot. Baby clothes in a variety of shades of blue and pink are neatly stacked in the closet –all have still have the price tags attached. On the night stand lies a newspaper. The pages are taking on a brownish hue, and the ink is fading. The newspaper is dated June 17, 2012. Five words all in bold on the front page are immediately noticed: “The End of the World!”

Sunday, January 25, 2009


I noticed something about myself recently, and it's a little disconcerting. I can never seem to be happy on my own. If I am, it's an ephemeral happiness. I really feel like I steal my happiness from other people. It's like I need other people in my life to make me happy; otherwise, I'm miserable and left alone with my thoughts. Having people who are fun to be around is one thing, but when you're feeding off of their happiness, it's completely different (that last part sounds weird, sorry). I go from one person to the next until something goes wrong. I'm not saying that I leave all my friends once they don't make me happy. Wow I sound so ridiculous right now, but hopefully someone out there understands what I mean.

There are certain people in my life, who always make me happy, and I never want them to leave. But there are other people who I've gotten to know, and once they're no longer in my life I feel this void. This emptiness. This loss of happiness that they once supplied.

I can hang out with friends and be completely happy, but once I'm home it's like I can no longer be happy. This is all very confusing, and I am sorry about that.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Without My Friends I Would Be Normal.

So this blog is devoted to my amazing bestie K. = D. Well where do I being? We haven't talked in 12 or 13 years, but we started talking to each other at the beginning of January. It was rather random I must admit: It began with him telling me interesting facts he found online, and that quickly changed to me asking 500 bajillion questions. That led into insanely long phone conversations. We literally talk every day: It just doesn't seem right if we don't. Within a short amount of time we've gotten to be really close. I think he knew more about me in one week then anyone knows about me now.

I tell him everything.

I remember not too long ago when I was first having trouble with P., I sat on my bed (in tears of course) and the first thought that came to me was I need to talk to K. After I ranted about everything that had happened, he offered to call me to cheer me up. He had me laughing and smiling within minutes. Any of you who have read my past blog posts on what happened with P. know that K. was there every step of the way. I don't know what I would have done without him.

There hasn't really been any depressing moments in my life since he came into it. He can definitely make me laugh till my sides hurt. Words can't describe how much this kid means to me. He's supportive, understanding, hilarious, random, and pretty much the nicest guy I know. I'm so thankful for him.

Finding friends that are there for you no matter what isn't easy. You never know when you might cross paths with someone like that. And when you do, hold onto them. Life, it seems, starts to make more sense when you have someone like that.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Make Believe.

I thought some of you would like to see my costume. It's pretty hilarious. The jacket was hand made and the pants are from the 80s. Men were small back then cause I'm wearing a size 7/8. Not to mention the waist comes above belly button (oh so comfortable).

They made me smile with my teeth showing. I'm going to hold a grudge for a long time haha.

Me (the Duke), E (Gweniver), and J (the Pirate King).

Some of the cast starting from left to right: T (Majick), C (Dorothy), M (assistant stage manager), D (not really in the play), E, and J.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Take a Walk With Me.

This is pretty much what happened all day. And it's times when you walk down memory lane that you realize how truly blessed you are. While I was walking with my dad, brother, and sister we marveled at how many of us shouldn't be here right now. My dad, brother, and I all shouldn't be alive today, but we are. We're here. My sister has a different story

My dad was born prematurely. He was the size of a little kid's shoe box, and my grandma fed him with an eye dropper. She cared for him even though the doctors said he would never make it. As for me, my mom had to be on bed rest for six months. There was some imbalance (I forget exactly what was wrong), but whatever it was would have resulted in a miscarriage or death right after being born. My brother is seriously a miracle. After he was born, my mom noticed he was wheezing. She took him back to the hospital to find out what was wrong. The only doctor who took the wheezing seriously was the one who delivered my brother. It turns out a vein leading to his heart was pinched shut. He went into open heart surgery when he was ten days old. I would try to describe the procedure, but I don't think I'm necessarily qualified. All I know is that it involved flaying open veins. Normally many people don't survive surgeries like that (or so I'm told). My brother will be fourteen in February.
My sister's case is different. Recently she just had surgery on her back to get a lipoma removed. The doctors were able to successfully remove the whole tumor. It was self contained and dangerously close to her spine. If it would have grown around the spine, the doctors wouldn't have been able to remove anything. The lipoma would have slowly continued to grow up her spine eventually killing her. That's worse case scenario.
Just to lighten the mood, my dad used to make us peanut butter and sweet pickle sandwiches. To this day I refuse to eat pickles.

Saturday, January 17, 2009


I seriously don't know why I put myself through competitions. I really can't handle them. Today was my first competition of the new year, and I was nervous as hell. I was doing good this morning and not really thinking about my competition, which allowed me to eat breakfast for once. Usually I'm too nervous to eat anything, so I don't until 5 or 6 in the evening. That all changed once I got to the competition. I started to shake and felt nauseous. I had to dance five different dances: Four highland and one national. The highland dances were brutal especially because they're long dances (six steps). I totally butchered my sword, and I really don't know what happened (I hate that dance).

The outcome: I placed in one dance. I was just thankful I survived all five dances because the whole time I felt like throwing up (that wasn't just because I was nervous). I'm still a newbie to the Premier level: I'm just starting my second year. And everyone I dance against has been dancing since they could walk. I started dancing late, which means I was pretty old by the time I got to Premier (not good). Plus they all know each other, and well I don't talk. Odd one out once again haha.

There's a workshop tomorrow from 10-1, but I'm not sure if I'll go. I'm exhausted right now.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Facebook, a Place for Stalkers.

Facebook: Some would call it a great website. A way to catch up with old friends and chat with current ones. What was meant to be a website for college and high school kids (and even adults) has been invaded my children that are clearly too young. Now parental supervision is required just to make sure their kids aren't doing things they shouldn't be. But I think this parental supervision has gone too far. Parents don't stick to checking just what their kids have done on facebook. Instead, they've stooped to the level of checking out everyone their kids are friends with. Facebook has already made spying on people very easy. Everything you do on there is seen be everyone you're friends with. You can even look at pictures of someone you know nothing about. Every conversation on your wall is viewable. There's no privacy. And now you add parents into the mix, and suddenly you feel very exposed.

I have nothing against parents checking their kids' activity on facebook. All I want is for parents to keep it strictly to their kids. I've had another parent tell my parents that I said I hated my life on facebook. I was enraged by this. First and foremost, it wasn't true; I never said anything even remotely close to that on facebook. Also, I didn't like that fact that some parent felt the need to snoop. Unfortunately, I know a lot of parents and other adults who use facebook that way. I don't like it when they read into things or use it to pry into other people's personal life (sometimes it may be unintentional, but still).

Unless I am saying things or doing things I really shouldn't be, I don't want to hear about a parent coming to my parents and telling them what I'm doing on facebook. My parents trust me, and if they want to know, they can look for themselves thank you very much.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

The Problem With Being a Pushover.

Disclaimer: I'm sorry if these "relationship" blogs bug anyone. Hopefully this will be the last one.

I'm a pushover. The whole thing about giving second chances has nothing on me. I give more chances then anyone I know. I was resolved to stop talking to P all together, and my sister thought it was best. But then he started chatting online with me, and that was it. I just asked him if he even liked me anymore, and his response was he thought it was best if he was friends with me cause he didn't want to lose me. He told me he loved me. And I melted. I just can't get over this feeling of being used, and at the same time not wanting to let him go.

I don't know why I'm willing to let some guy hurt me again. I'm either setting myself up for something that could be really amazing or end up destroying me. I just wish there was some way of know whether or not I'm actually being used or if he actually likes me as much as he says he does. I just can't seem to let him or anyone else for that matter.

At the moment, I'm waiting for him to call me. The ironic thing would be if he never did call me. Figures.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

I Give Up.

There's a new complication in my twisted love story. Things I guess were going ok after the whole other relationship incident, but again I guess I overlooked things. He called me while I was making dinner, and after sometime he said, "So I've decided something..." Immediately I thought, "Oh crap." He decided he just wanted to be my "big brother" for now, and he deleted every pic I had sent him. I didn't know how to respond to that. Along with his decision meant that there would be no flirting, etc. He kept saying that I might find some other guy, who would be better for me. I guess he didn't exactly comprehend how much I wanted him and only him. After we said good bye, another piece of me was taken, and I knew there really wouldn't be anymore day long conversations. I struggled so much to choke back the tears during dinner...

I talked to K. about it again, and his first response was, "WTF?!" He had never heard of a guy telling that to a girl before. He was really sorry I had to go through something like this and offered to help in anyway he could, so he called me to cheer me up. I'm very thankful for him right now.

As it turns out, I was right about not talking much anymore. Usually he texts me to say good morning. Those stopped coming. It wasn't until I was done with drama and headed home that he actually decided to text me. I was in no mood to talk to him though. All of my response were only a couple words, and a few texts later the conversation fizzled out. I seriously just want to ask him if he even likes me anymore. I need to know because if he doesn't, I have to find some way to move on. Easier said then done, of course.

I'm tired of people (especially guys) who walk in and steal a part of me and then leave. And I'm very tired of putting my whole heart into something just to have it taken away.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

I Should Have Asked Him if He Would Cheat.

I'm trying to hold my self together right now, but it's not working. I knew this feeling of happiness would never last, and I was right. So I've mentioned this guy who I've been talking to none stop for two months straight, and how much I really like him. Things have been going really well; and once in my life I thought things were actually going to turn out ok. I might have actually found the guy I've always been looking for. I was so close. Somehow something went wrong. I don't know when though.

I had just spent the night at a friends house, and when I came home I put my stuff away and checked some stuff on the computer. Well I happened to check his profile, and you'll never guess what I found. I know I was shocked. It said he was in a relationship with some girl, and that girl wasn't me.
I sat there staring at the screen. Everything seemed so surreal. Before I new it I was sobbing, and I had to force myself to get up and go to my room. I sat there on my bed, tears streaming down my cheeks. I couldn't believe it. Why would he do that? I thought he cared about me. Obviously I had been horribly mistaken.

After drying my eyes, I decided I needed to talk to someone. I immediately started texting K. He told me I need to talk to P. asap and ask him what that relationship was all about. I did. He told me that someone sent him a relationship request. he was really tired and thought it was a friends request, so he accepted it. I started thinking, "The big heart next to it didn't tip you off that it wasn't a friend request. And once you figured it out why they hell didn't you CHANGE IT?!"
I talked to him on the phone and sorted somethings out. I'm still not sure about the whole trust thing; I want to trust him, but after this I just don't know. How would you feel if you thought you were being played?

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Ushering the New Year.

First post of the New Year! I hope everyone had a great New Year's Eve. Mine was pretty interesting and filled with lots of laughter. Anyone care to share their New Year's resolution (s)?
I personally don't make them cause most likely I wont keep them = /. But I guess the common one that's pretty much a given is getting through the rest of school, which I'm not exactly excited to go back to on Monday. It feels so nice not having to worry about anything. Actually I have been very overwhelmed, but I procrastinate too much. Look, another flaw haha. There's so much I need to finish before going back to school, yet I find myself sitting around doing nothing.

Does the new year start with stress? The answer is most definitely.

It's been fun though because I've been talking to some friends I haven't talked to in years. Anywho I'll blog about something mildly amusing later.