Capricorns are Practical, Prudent, Ambitious, Disciplined, Patient, Careful, Humorous and Reserved. Capricorns are ambitious, hard working and never lose sight of their goals. It is not uncommon for Capricorns to be arrogant and overbearing while on their march to success. Capricorns are industrious and detail oriented. They are not ones to take risks, which means they often have to wait for success. Being patient and confident they will succeed, the wait for glory is no problem for them. Capricorns are rational and never have bursts of emotions. Sometimes they can be a bit greedy, but their devotion to work and family offsets this easily. Although their ambition may seem limitless, Capricorns never resort to cheating to succeed. When success does come to them, they find it very fulfilling, because they attained it their way. In love Capricorns are a slow starters, but prove to be explosive performers and long lasting, loyal companions. When aroused, Capricorns are enthusiastic and adventurous in the art of love, but can be possessive and jealous when threatened. Partners can sometimes be overwhelmed by the intensity of their passion, coming as it does from beneath such a cool exterior. In marriage they are loyal, good providers and strive to develop a strong home environment.
Capricornians are basically competent, down-to-earth and result-oriented. They are usually hard workers. They love to organize and are willing to discipline themselves, shoulder responsibility and plan ahead in order to achieve their ambitions. Capricornians are conservative. Some of them like their possessions, such as their cars, home and clothing, to be classical and elegant, while others focus primarily on functionality and practicality. Most of them are perfectionists. Being ambitious and innately responsible, Capricornians
dislike disorganization, sloppiness and irresponsible behavior. Capricornians have a hard time dealing with people who don't keep their promises, are chronically late or are not willing to shoulder responsibility. Capricornians are especially well suited for business, politics, management and leadership roles. They tend to be a little stiff, both physically and mentally, and need to learn not to be too serious. Many Capricornians do have a good sense of humor, and use jokes to lighten their own and other people's souls.
In a relationship, Capricorns are a slow starters, but prove to be explosive performers and long-lasting, loyal companions. They are quite skilled with people, once they overcome their initial reserve. When aroused, Capricorns are enthusiastic and adventurous in the art of love, but can be possessive and jealous when threatened. Partners can sometimes be overwhelmed by the intensity of their passion, coming as it does from beneath such a cool exterior. In marriage they are loyal, good providers and strive to develop a strong home environment. Capricorns strive to conceal their vulnerability beneath a confident veneer of ambition and material success, but passionate Mars is always bubbling just below the surface. When the curtain is lifted, the passion flows like lava from an erupting volcano. Indeed, when they are sure of their ground, they delight in living up to the randy reputation of the Goat.
Traditional Capricorn Traits
Practical and prudent
Ambitious and disciplined
Patient and careful
Humorous and reserved
Pessimistic and fatalistic
Miserly and grudging
Overconventional and rigid
Interests
Buildings and construction, engineering, architecture, farming, agriculture, banking, finance, politics, religions of the world, business, and scientific research
Hates
Noisy crowds and immature behavior
Monday, December 10, 2007
Saturday, December 1, 2007
we must be sisters: we have the same eyes.
well might i warn you that people here sometimes read them too (so i recently found out) and they love you for it. they think what you write is great. and so do i. so maybe you're surrounding yourself with the wrong people. and its not that they arent good people. in fact, that may be their problem: their insatiable urge to help others which turns into an unstoppable need to control your life. or maybe they think that being a good friend is sheltering you. or making sure you keep away from pain or something they may not approve of.
and maybe joe makes me a bad friend. but i think pain is what helps us appreciate what is good. and i may let you do something that feels good at the time but then brings you crashing down. but unlike the others who stive to drag you upwards with them, i will be her at the bottom, lying next to you in my bunk bed, listening to your problems.
and thats what i look for in someone. not someone who wants to help me with by problems. but someone who wants to hear them and wants to understand. and then lets me solve them by myself.
and that's why i dont think you should go to BYU. because it is full of good people. but here at CMU and hundreds of other universities there are great people. and these great people drink and go out and party. and have one night mistaken hook ups. and these great people fall.
but unlike the good people, these great people dont want to fix you. they care. and they do so in a way that makes you feel loved and supported and unjudged. and you want to go to them. and tell them your problems.
and lie with them in bunk beds after you make your mistakes.
and maybe joe makes me a bad friend. but i think pain is what helps us appreciate what is good. and i may let you do something that feels good at the time but then brings you crashing down. but unlike the others who stive to drag you upwards with them, i will be her at the bottom, lying next to you in my bunk bed, listening to your problems.
and thats what i look for in someone. not someone who wants to help me with by problems. but someone who wants to hear them and wants to understand. and then lets me solve them by myself.
and that's why i dont think you should go to BYU. because it is full of good people. but here at CMU and hundreds of other universities there are great people. and these great people drink and go out and party. and have one night mistaken hook ups. and these great people fall.
but unlike the good people, these great people dont want to fix you. they care. and they do so in a way that makes you feel loved and supported and unjudged. and you want to go to them. and tell them your problems.
and lie with them in bunk beds after you make your mistakes.
Friday, November 30, 2007
and i thought i cared but i dont. and too much time together makes me want to hurt you.
you know what's more intimidating than their obsession with jessica simpson or carmen electra? their love for natalie portman. who you can't hate. whose got that natural beauty thing going on. yes, thats right, i still remember your natalie portman obsession. sad right?
but it sticks with you. no, i dont care that you fantasize over some sex symbol that i am glad i'm not. i care when you see the good in people. when you love the natural. reject the fake. and when you like the great girls. the ones i cant get myself to hate.
and now i dont care if you're reading this right now. because i think we've defied ever awkward and difficult situation in the books.
and here's to the rest of you, mostly original from Men's Health, but edited where necessary.
50 Things She Wishes You Knew
Universal truths that all men should--but don't--understand
1. Saying "I love you" immediately before, during, or following sex doesn't count.
2. Real men drive stick shift.
3. I will leave if you lie.
4. You are cute in raglan-sleeved T-shirts (two-toned baseball undershirts).
5. I'm convinced I'm pregnant and obsess about it for a minimum of 24 to 48 hours before my period, even when I have no rational reason to think so.
6. I love it when you hug me from behind and whisper in my ear.
7. "Fine" is never an appropriate response when I ask you how I look.
8. Most of the time when I fantasize, it's about you.
9. I'm terrified of becoming my mother, even though I admire her.
10. I get turned on simply seeing that I have an e-mail from you.
11. I expect you to call me.
12. Only rock stars are allowed to wear leather pants.
13. I'm scared of losing my independence.
14. I'm more forgiving of you than I really should be.
15. Gifts are your get-out-of-the-doghouse-free card. Manolo Blahnik shoes will do the trick.
16. You did something bad. I seem cool with it. I'm not. (See directly above.)
17. If I'm not having sex with you, I'm... a.) ...having a fat day. b.) ...not feeling "connected" to you. c.) ...blackmailing you to get something I want.
18. Shoes determine whether you're fashionable or not.
19. I own a Debbie Gibson CD, and I'm not afraid to use it.
20. When I compare my flabby tummy to a kangaroo pouch, say nothing.
21. A man I love plans the occasional fancy-schmancy dress-up date and impromptu weekend getaways, and he buys my favorite candy in advance when we're just going to the movies.
22. You look hot in hooded clothing items.
23. You should never tell me what to do.
24. If I slept over, you owe me breakfast.
25. Edited content.
26. If you ask me out directly, I will say yes.
27. I'm very impressed when you ask for my advice.
28. I'm unimpressed with a man who doesn't take the lead.
29. When in doubt, go with the shirt that matches your eye color.
30. I want to be Madonna.
31. Women get urinary-tract infections easily, so watch (and wash) your fingers.
32. I'm in heaven when you hold my hand.
33. You're sexy when you're shaving, fixing things, wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, driving, eating a peach, holding a baby.
34. I need to hear how you feel about me. Often. Tell me now.
35. Surprises, especially gifts for moi = more loving.
36. I want to be the best thing that ever happened to you--and for you to recognize this.
37. If I'm not feeling loved, I will start looking....
38. Discussion of ex-gf's and ex-bf's should be avoided at all times.
39. I like it when you tell me what you're thinking, even if you don't know yourself.
40. Celebrating our anniversary, even if it's only been a few months, earns major bonus points.
41. I love it when you're sweaty.
42. It's best to consult your gal pals for gift ideas.
43. A lady should always be greeted with kisses.
44. I like porn.
45. I love holding your bum in the palms of my hands.
46. Even nice girls like hushed dirty talk in public.
47. It's cheating as soon as you're doing something with her that you wouldn't want me to see, hear, read...
48. For the record: I'd rather you break up with me than cheat.
49. I remember everything about our relationship.
50. You should know all this and more without my telling you.
but it sticks with you. no, i dont care that you fantasize over some sex symbol that i am glad i'm not. i care when you see the good in people. when you love the natural. reject the fake. and when you like the great girls. the ones i cant get myself to hate.
and now i dont care if you're reading this right now. because i think we've defied ever awkward and difficult situation in the books.
and here's to the rest of you, mostly original from Men's Health, but edited where necessary.
50 Things She Wishes You Knew
Universal truths that all men should--but don't--understand
1. Saying "I love you" immediately before, during, or following sex doesn't count.
2. Real men drive stick shift.
3. I will leave if you lie.
4. You are cute in raglan-sleeved T-shirts (two-toned baseball undershirts).
5. I'm convinced I'm pregnant and obsess about it for a minimum of 24 to 48 hours before my period, even when I have no rational reason to think so.
6. I love it when you hug me from behind and whisper in my ear.
7. "Fine" is never an appropriate response when I ask you how I look.
8. Most of the time when I fantasize, it's about you.
9. I'm terrified of becoming my mother, even though I admire her.
10. I get turned on simply seeing that I have an e-mail from you.
11. I expect you to call me.
12. Only rock stars are allowed to wear leather pants.
13. I'm scared of losing my independence.
14. I'm more forgiving of you than I really should be.
15. Gifts are your get-out-of-the-doghouse-free card. Manolo Blahnik shoes will do the trick.
16. You did something bad. I seem cool with it. I'm not. (See directly above.)
17. If I'm not having sex with you, I'm... a.) ...having a fat day. b.) ...not feeling "connected" to you. c.) ...blackmailing you to get something I want.
18. Shoes determine whether you're fashionable or not.
19. I own a Debbie Gibson CD, and I'm not afraid to use it.
20. When I compare my flabby tummy to a kangaroo pouch, say nothing.
21. A man I love plans the occasional fancy-schmancy dress-up date and impromptu weekend getaways, and he buys my favorite candy in advance when we're just going to the movies.
22. You look hot in hooded clothing items.
23. You should never tell me what to do.
24. If I slept over, you owe me breakfast.
25. Edited content.
26. If you ask me out directly, I will say yes.
27. I'm very impressed when you ask for my advice.
28. I'm unimpressed with a man who doesn't take the lead.
29. When in doubt, go with the shirt that matches your eye color.
30. I want to be Madonna.
31. Women get urinary-tract infections easily, so watch (and wash) your fingers.
32. I'm in heaven when you hold my hand.
33. You're sexy when you're shaving, fixing things, wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, driving, eating a peach, holding a baby.
34. I need to hear how you feel about me. Often. Tell me now.
35. Surprises, especially gifts for moi = more loving.
36. I want to be the best thing that ever happened to you--and for you to recognize this.
37. If I'm not feeling loved, I will start looking....
38. Discussion of ex-gf's and ex-bf's should be avoided at all times.
39. I like it when you tell me what you're thinking, even if you don't know yourself.
40. Celebrating our anniversary, even if it's only been a few months, earns major bonus points.
41. I love it when you're sweaty.
42. It's best to consult your gal pals for gift ideas.
43. A lady should always be greeted with kisses.
44. I like porn.
45. I love holding your bum in the palms of my hands.
46. Even nice girls like hushed dirty talk in public.
47. It's cheating as soon as you're doing something with her that you wouldn't want me to see, hear, read...
48. For the record: I'd rather you break up with me than cheat.
49. I remember everything about our relationship.
50. You should know all this and more without my telling you.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
so who's going to watch you die?
it's an interesting way to prioritize. is that bad to base my life around death? think about it. If, before you made every decision in your life, you asked yourself: will i regret not doing this when i am about to die? or will this be important by the time i die?
and that "life-flashing-before-your-eyes" thing? apparently its real. but in shaded of blue. and when my life flashes quickly before my eyes, what is it that i will remember? it wont be the D on my physics test. it wont be that trivial argument we got in last week. hell, it wont even be that huge fight we got in in middle school. It wont be the fact that i've never been pulled over. or the countless times i blew my curfew.
no. i will remember our times down on the river. and that time we DIDNT skinny dip. and the time when other you and i did. and i proceed to flash my girl parts to everyone.
and i'll remember my puppy. and i'll remember volleyball and track and how they corrupted me. and how i corrupted you. and i'll remember the time we sat on the beach despite the sound of the tsunami warning. not because everyone else was staying. but because we were together. and together, we're invincible.
and i will remember CMU. i'll remember grey's night. and the night we shared secrets. and i'll remember bus rides. who could forget? and i'll remember back in the good old days how i got the best roommate ever.
and i wont just remember the good times. i'll remember the trials. our trial. but i'll realize how strong it has made me. and i'll take comfort in knowing i'll be with you soon.
and when i am with you, everything will be fine. because together we will be invincible. and i will never sacrifice you, compromise you, or take you forgranted.
so who's going to watch you die? who's going to watch me die?
you, dedicated bffn, i know you'll be there. you are the kindest most sypathetic individual i know. and i know you would drop everything to be with me. so despite the stress you place upon yourself, i truly believe you have your priorities in check. thats because i am first on you list of priorities, right?
and you, other bff. you'll be there too. no doubt about it. and you will take my mind off of it. because you are the most energetic person i know. and together we may beat the odds: we might cry. despite the lack of teasrs escaping our eyes the last time i left. you'd send me flowers and probably know exactly what to bring me: york peppermint patties and a cosmo.
you, unreachable, taken you: you'll come. because despite your efforts to be bad ass. you're a great guy. and you would make me laugh.
and you, my old you. you will come. but the pressure will be too much. you'll cry like usually. and i'll try to cry like i used to.
and you, undesired but irresistable you, you might come. maybe once. but i sort of think it might scare you. not in a pussy way. but i think it would be too much.
and you, fu you: i am pretty sure you would come. multiple times. and A you would probabkly tag along when you could.
and official best roommate ever: you would be there. and you'd make me laugh too. we'd laugh about annoying kid and perfect girl and hermione and briere's drawrs, idears, alwahs, and now dorings. we'd laugh, i'm sure of it.
and i am sure that you too would come visit me. or so you tell yourself.
and that "life-flashing-before-your-eyes" thing? apparently its real. but in shaded of blue. and when my life flashes quickly before my eyes, what is it that i will remember? it wont be the D on my physics test. it wont be that trivial argument we got in last week. hell, it wont even be that huge fight we got in in middle school. It wont be the fact that i've never been pulled over. or the countless times i blew my curfew.
no. i will remember our times down on the river. and that time we DIDNT skinny dip. and the time when other you and i did. and i proceed to flash my girl parts to everyone.
and i'll remember my puppy. and i'll remember volleyball and track and how they corrupted me. and how i corrupted you. and i'll remember the time we sat on the beach despite the sound of the tsunami warning. not because everyone else was staying. but because we were together. and together, we're invincible.
and i will remember CMU. i'll remember grey's night. and the night we shared secrets. and i'll remember bus rides. who could forget? and i'll remember back in the good old days how i got the best roommate ever.
and i wont just remember the good times. i'll remember the trials. our trial. but i'll realize how strong it has made me. and i'll take comfort in knowing i'll be with you soon.
and when i am with you, everything will be fine. because together we will be invincible. and i will never sacrifice you, compromise you, or take you forgranted.
so who's going to watch you die? who's going to watch me die?
you, dedicated bffn, i know you'll be there. you are the kindest most sypathetic individual i know. and i know you would drop everything to be with me. so despite the stress you place upon yourself, i truly believe you have your priorities in check. thats because i am first on you list of priorities, right?
and you, other bff. you'll be there too. no doubt about it. and you will take my mind off of it. because you are the most energetic person i know. and together we may beat the odds: we might cry. despite the lack of teasrs escaping our eyes the last time i left. you'd send me flowers and probably know exactly what to bring me: york peppermint patties and a cosmo.
you, unreachable, taken you: you'll come. because despite your efforts to be bad ass. you're a great guy. and you would make me laugh.
and you, my old you. you will come. but the pressure will be too much. you'll cry like usually. and i'll try to cry like i used to.
and you, undesired but irresistable you, you might come. maybe once. but i sort of think it might scare you. not in a pussy way. but i think it would be too much.
and you, fu you: i am pretty sure you would come. multiple times. and A you would probabkly tag along when you could.
and official best roommate ever: you would be there. and you'd make me laugh too. we'd laugh about annoying kid and perfect girl and hermione and briere's drawrs, idears, alwahs, and now dorings. we'd laugh, i'm sure of it.
and i am sure that you too would come visit me. or so you tell yourself.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
sweaty pits and heavy petting: this is only a sequel to that thing called high school.
12:01 i'm writing the essay that determines a fourth of my GPA. i'm producing excess saliva that tastes of dark chocolate m&ms and sugar cookies. christmas lights lines my bed. i dont feel warm or cold. i dont feel anything.
12:03 procrastinating the essay the determines a fourth of my GPA. deciding i need to put on comfier underwear to go to bed. listening to the conversations that surround me.
12:05 thinking about how people could potentially be reading this. and i dont know who they are. and therefore i shouldnt say some of the things i do. so i remove the notes from my facebook.
12:08 contemplating winter break with my roomfellows. who apparently will experience TSS over break? my condolences.
12:03 procrastinating the essay the determines a fourth of my GPA. deciding i need to put on comfier underwear to go to bed. listening to the conversations that surround me.
12:05 thinking about how people could potentially be reading this. and i dont know who they are. and therefore i shouldnt say some of the things i do. so i remove the notes from my facebook.
12:08 contemplating winter break with my roomfellows. who apparently will experience TSS over break? my condolences.
Friday, November 23, 2007
amongst vending machines and old magazines, in a place where we only say good bye, as the tv entertained itself...
it snowed today. big flakes. white. pure. frequent. unaltered. untouched.
there is something bigger you know? than measily quarrels. and frivolous crushes. and passing whims.
and why do we associate white with pure? isnt white a mix of every color in nature? and if this white is a mix of every color, does that make us as a whole pure? not at all. but it is amazing to think each snowflake, no matter how small. contains every color imaginable.
but still, when we think white, we think pure. and not much can be done to change that. what people think of something. what people think of us.
at first i am the awkward girl. then i am the blunt girl. then i am the funny girl. then i am the emotionless girl. then i am the boring girl. and no one gets past that. well, you did. but we like to pretend that didnt happen. when we talk about the girl you love. but you knew i wasn't awkward. or blunt. or funny. or emotionless. or boring.
but that is what they think. and i am fine with that. that's the girl i pretend to be. i dont know why. cause these traits i aquire aren't exactly desirable. but it is who i chose to be to you.
there is something bigger you know? than measily quarrels. and frivolous crushes. and passing whims.
and why do we associate white with pure? isnt white a mix of every color in nature? and if this white is a mix of every color, does that make us as a whole pure? not at all. but it is amazing to think each snowflake, no matter how small. contains every color imaginable.
but still, when we think white, we think pure. and not much can be done to change that. what people think of something. what people think of us.
at first i am the awkward girl. then i am the blunt girl. then i am the funny girl. then i am the emotionless girl. then i am the boring girl. and no one gets past that. well, you did. but we like to pretend that didnt happen. when we talk about the girl you love. but you knew i wasn't awkward. or blunt. or funny. or emotionless. or boring.
but that is what they think. and i am fine with that. that's the girl i pretend to be. i dont know why. cause these traits i aquire aren't exactly desirable. but it is who i chose to be to you.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
and when i see you....i really see you upside down
but my mind knows better. it picks you up and turns you around.
i'm thankful too. for a lot of things. and i have really small insignificant problems. well i really can't think of many.
but i am thankful. so thankful. for:
i'm thankful too. for a lot of things. and i have really small insignificant problems. well i really can't think of many.
but i am thankful. so thankful. for:
- my fam- miss 'em as much as i pretend not to miss anything.
- rachael's fam- for taking me in
- my roommate- who's awesome.
- my friends at home- who keep me informed on the happenings of the homelife and remind why i love sherwood.
- food- i think i am loosing weight here. these people dont eat often enough.
- my lovely readership- the best morman ever.
- books and magazines- which make life more interesting
- almond roca- for making me fat and happy
- my college friends- who made this whole new experience amazing and siginificantly less terrifying.
- bitter people- who let you know that things could always be worse than they are.
- christmas lights- which remind me of the happiest, warmest memories of completeness where i need nothing but the fam.
- my little baby pup- whom i miss more than anything on the west coast.
- fall- which makes the cold much more bearable.
- my lack of ass- which makes me significantly less whore-ish.
- john mayer- who understands all that has to do with life, love, and other mysteries.
- the color purple- which is unique and deep but fun.
- blogging- which gives me an amazing outlet for this emo side of me. probably clouding your sense of me as the strong, emotionless rock.
- piano playing- which makes me feel like everything in the world will be alright in the end. those songs that go on forever. and have their ups and down. and just when you think they are about to end, they pick up again, stronger than before. and they remind you of yourself. and you smile.
and now onto the hot mess of stuff that get's my panties in a bunch but really isnt that bad:
- not getting to go home- because i just want to drive that familiar drive to starbucks and sit down with my friends. and laugh over thanksgiving dinner with my fam. and cuddle with my dog who love more than anything else as i fall asleep.
- not having anything in the world i love more than cuddling with my dog- i'd like for this hole to be filled with a person. and i realize that takes time. perhaps a lifetime. but i want it now. i want it back.
- fat- and it is my own fault. because i am too lazy to workout. so that is my post thanksgiving resolution. yep. and sticking to it.
- my weakness for bad guys- it needs to stop because i win great guys. hell one of my best guy friends is the GREATEST guy ever. like perfect. and i am not attracted to that. WHY!!??!!??
and these are my issues. but i'm losing any sleep over them. i have no control over them. there is no point in this world in worrying. it wastes time for action.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
just because i'm sorry, doesn't mean i didnt enjoy everything.
and i think i'm falling. despite my efforts to keep a grip on the edge.
and i'd even rather think of you, you with the girlfriend. you who is so happily taken. you who i love to spend time with. you who makes me laugh. but you werent the one who pried my fingers of the cliff, sending me plunging endlessly to the next plateau.
no it was him, you. who i love to hate. you who makes me so mad. you who pisses me off to the point of laughter. you who i know i shouldnt have feelings for. you who is such a taker it isnt even funny. you who could flirt with a rock if it were female. you who makes me feel like shit. you who makes me awkward. and lose all sense of confidence.
you who i cant stand not being around.
you who said "love you" and didnt manage to make me sick to my stomach. you who i try my hardest not to flirt with. or seem desperate. but i am. so desperate. you who suggested we make pessimistic babies together. because we have "a different way of love."
the you who i didnt talk to today making it the first day since we got to pittsburgh. you who will "let me know" if your pissed off at me or not. you who tells me the most awkward things that i pretend i dont want to know. but i do.
i want to know everything you have to say. i want to be the one you need. i want to be the one who pries your fingers off the edge, sending you plunging into me.
but it wont happen. and i cant let it. i cant put up with you.
and i'd rather dream about the other you, the unreachable you, but i can't because you, bad you, keep popping into my dreams, my thoughts, my life.
and so my goal for this weekend and beyond: i wont make an effort. i'll wait for you. and if you dont come through. i'll give up.
and to my dedicated you. whom i've been neglecting as a result of my lathargic thoughts. it's okay to be bitter. more than okay. just remember everyone deserves for something good to happen to them. and i hate to try and be old and wise, but i used to be like you are. bitter. but sometimes people need for these things to happen for them. and maybe you're one of them. and i am really ready to be one of them.
but first i need to quit looking.
and you, bad you, the one all of my friends hate. i just talked to you. making us talk. today. keeping our daily conversation alive. and things you say confuse me. but you already knew that.
and i'd even rather think of you, you with the girlfriend. you who is so happily taken. you who i love to spend time with. you who makes me laugh. but you werent the one who pried my fingers of the cliff, sending me plunging endlessly to the next plateau.
no it was him, you. who i love to hate. you who makes me so mad. you who pisses me off to the point of laughter. you who i know i shouldnt have feelings for. you who is such a taker it isnt even funny. you who could flirt with a rock if it were female. you who makes me feel like shit. you who makes me awkward. and lose all sense of confidence.
you who i cant stand not being around.
you who said "love you" and didnt manage to make me sick to my stomach. you who i try my hardest not to flirt with. or seem desperate. but i am. so desperate. you who suggested we make pessimistic babies together. because we have "a different way of love."
the you who i didnt talk to today making it the first day since we got to pittsburgh. you who will "let me know" if your pissed off at me or not. you who tells me the most awkward things that i pretend i dont want to know. but i do.
i want to know everything you have to say. i want to be the one you need. i want to be the one who pries your fingers off the edge, sending you plunging into me.
but it wont happen. and i cant let it. i cant put up with you.
and i'd rather dream about the other you, the unreachable you, but i can't because you, bad you, keep popping into my dreams, my thoughts, my life.
and so my goal for this weekend and beyond: i wont make an effort. i'll wait for you. and if you dont come through. i'll give up.
and to my dedicated you. whom i've been neglecting as a result of my lathargic thoughts. it's okay to be bitter. more than okay. just remember everyone deserves for something good to happen to them. and i hate to try and be old and wise, but i used to be like you are. bitter. but sometimes people need for these things to happen for them. and maybe you're one of them. and i am really ready to be one of them.
but first i need to quit looking.
and you, bad you, the one all of my friends hate. i just talked to you. making us talk. today. keeping our daily conversation alive. and things you say confuse me. but you already knew that.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
dude, i think you're confused about my person
i need to do some homework. just to let you know. but instead i am here, writing to you, my sole fan. the only reader encouraging my abitious writing career.
i have other readers. well one other: the reader of my essays, professor space cadet. who does everything but encourage my writing. she likes to butcher the hell out of it. to the point where it is her paper, not mine. i wish grades were based on grammar. because then i would be dominating the hell out of interp, carnegie mellon, life. i wish life was based on grammar. i could do that. although i pusposely disregard all sense of good grammar in this blog. but only with the sole purpose of sticking it to the man. heer u go man suk it.
who is the man? thats what i really want to know. who exactly am i sticking it to? you're guess is as good as mine.
rachael's going on a date tonight. i want to go on a date. not with ted. or jarome. or my taken person. (okay well, maybe the last one.) or the other boy who stole my attention. only for me to realize we are soooo not meant for each other.
and i am kind of happy about where attention-stealing boy and i stand. friends. and he tells me about his girls. i'm sure i could tell him about my boys if there were such objects of my affection. (but there aren't).
and now that i have wasted away the six hours that i have been awake. i'm here to tell you: it is okay to think about him. i thought about my ex-person for two years. TWO YEARS. and my middle name is "i-have-no-emotions."
i have fat hands. they look like little kid hands sometimes. well magnified by a thousand. and i wish they could be that innocent.
to ben berry: you have a nice name. and a nice face. you're a sexy man. you were cute back in the day when i had innocent hands. you probably dont remember me. i think we were like 14. but i have some odd reccollection of you and i dont know why.
i have other readers. well one other: the reader of my essays, professor space cadet. who does everything but encourage my writing. she likes to butcher the hell out of it. to the point where it is her paper, not mine. i wish grades were based on grammar. because then i would be dominating the hell out of interp, carnegie mellon, life. i wish life was based on grammar. i could do that. although i pusposely disregard all sense of good grammar in this blog. but only with the sole purpose of sticking it to the man. heer u go man suk it.
who is the man? thats what i really want to know. who exactly am i sticking it to? you're guess is as good as mine.
rachael's going on a date tonight. i want to go on a date. not with ted. or jarome. or my taken person. (okay well, maybe the last one.) or the other boy who stole my attention. only for me to realize we are soooo not meant for each other.
and i am kind of happy about where attention-stealing boy and i stand. friends. and he tells me about his girls. i'm sure i could tell him about my boys if there were such objects of my affection. (but there aren't).
and now that i have wasted away the six hours that i have been awake. i'm here to tell you: it is okay to think about him. i thought about my ex-person for two years. TWO YEARS. and my middle name is "i-have-no-emotions."
i have fat hands. they look like little kid hands sometimes. well magnified by a thousand. and i wish they could be that innocent.
to ben berry: you have a nice name. and a nice face. you're a sexy man. you were cute back in the day when i had innocent hands. you probably dont remember me. i think we were like 14. but i have some odd reccollection of you and i dont know why.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
and you're just jealous that i act retarded in public and people still love me.
you know i havent liked anyone since you? like seriously. and i bet you would take satisfaction from that. and not a selfish, "i want you to be unhappy" satisfaction but more of a comforting feeling proving that "us" just wasnt a passing whim. a brief crush. a short lived lusting.
and i haven't wanted anyone since you. i mean really wanted someone. physically. and i bet that would shock you. because i was a crazy person who could keep up with a teenage boy. as far as all that you know, whatever, stuff goes.
i just thought you should know that. and that i am not your person anymore. and you are not mine. and although i try to force my self to like other people i cant. i cant and dont and wont like anyone. i wont settle. stagnate. (not sure if that is a word, i made it up.)
and i really hope you find your person. because i want you to be happy. and as much as i want to find my person. (and i may have, but more on that later.) i want everyone to find theirs first. i dont think there is someone out there for everyone. and that is what scares me. but there are just some people who deserve to find their person.
and many of us have. like myself i think. and friend X who i feel so terribly bad for. who found her person. and her person doesnt know hes her person. and she loves him so much. and he loves her back. but as a best friend. and nothing hurts like your heart. physical pain doesnt even compare.
and as much as i hate to admit it. i think i found my person. but he cant be my person. he'll never know he's been granted such a rare honor. unless i become his person. which cant happen. because he's already found his person. and one doesnt have more than one person.
and i need some punctum to end this with. but i dont have one. be safe kids.
and i haven't wanted anyone since you. i mean really wanted someone. physically. and i bet that would shock you. because i was a crazy person who could keep up with a teenage boy. as far as all that you know, whatever, stuff goes.
i just thought you should know that. and that i am not your person anymore. and you are not mine. and although i try to force my self to like other people i cant. i cant and dont and wont like anyone. i wont settle. stagnate. (not sure if that is a word, i made it up.)
and i really hope you find your person. because i want you to be happy. and as much as i want to find my person. (and i may have, but more on that later.) i want everyone to find theirs first. i dont think there is someone out there for everyone. and that is what scares me. but there are just some people who deserve to find their person.
and many of us have. like myself i think. and friend X who i feel so terribly bad for. who found her person. and her person doesnt know hes her person. and she loves him so much. and he loves her back. but as a best friend. and nothing hurts like your heart. physical pain doesnt even compare.
and as much as i hate to admit it. i think i found my person. but he cant be my person. he'll never know he's been granted such a rare honor. unless i become his person. which cant happen. because he's already found his person. and one doesnt have more than one person.
and i need some punctum to end this with. but i dont have one. be safe kids.
Monday, November 5, 2007
'don't we all live our lives in italics, wrapped in quotations?'
i was waiting today. zebra lounge. meeting with professor space cadet. and i saw a tall black man with long dreads. and mistaked him for her....she's a tall white woman. no dreads.
she doesnt show. causing me to succum to paranoia. am i in the right place? right time? not sure whose wrong but hoping more than anything that its her. unless she's morphed into bald music man next to me. I'm pretty sure she isn't here. (can you tell i wrote this while sitting there?)
And i cried the other day. on multiple occasions.
the first: i went to acdemdev, my abrev. for academic development. the lady was super nice and i dont know why i choked up. maybe because it is against my nature to ask for help. and asking someone i dont know is like trusting an ant to catch my fall. okay bad analogy. forgive me.
and so my eyes welled. i went to the bathroom and allowed one tear. the first here at cmu. (and no tears during grey's dont count. you have to remember we watched season 2 in its etirety) one tear was all i got. and i didnt know why i was crying. or rather spontaneously generating liquid in my tear ducts.
the second: grey's wasn't that sad. so i don't know why i was crying like a baby...well more so, getting teary-eyed like a baby. only because of wiping of wet eyes before the tears had a chance to escape.
so there's me. i'm human. finally.
so accompanying my new found obsession with vertical horizon:
she doesnt show. causing me to succum to paranoia. am i in the right place? right time? not sure whose wrong but hoping more than anything that its her. unless she's morphed into bald music man next to me. I'm pretty sure she isn't here. (can you tell i wrote this while sitting there?)
And i cried the other day. on multiple occasions.
the first: i went to acdemdev, my abrev. for academic development. the lady was super nice and i dont know why i choked up. maybe because it is against my nature to ask for help. and asking someone i dont know is like trusting an ant to catch my fall. okay bad analogy. forgive me.
and so my eyes welled. i went to the bathroom and allowed one tear. the first here at cmu. (and no tears during grey's dont count. you have to remember we watched season 2 in its etirety) one tear was all i got. and i didnt know why i was crying. or rather spontaneously generating liquid in my tear ducts.
the second: grey's wasn't that sad. so i don't know why i was crying like a baby...well more so, getting teary-eyed like a baby. only because of wiping of wet eyes before the tears had a chance to escape.
so there's me. i'm human. finally.
so accompanying my new found obsession with vertical horizon:
He's everything you want
He's everything you need
He's everything inside of you
That you wish you could be
He says all the right things
At exactly the right time
But he means nothing to you
And you don't know why
You're waiting for someone
To put you together
You're waiting for someone to push you away
There's always another wound to discover
There's always something more you wish he'd say
oh and check out sondre lerche's minor detail. please.
i need someone to live for.
i need someone to be my last thought before i fall asleep and the first thought when i wake up.
i need to be motivated to get out of bed each morning just for the chance that i may get to see them.
and i need someone to make hug enjoyable and contradict the awkwardness it seems to be.
i need someone to hug that i will never want to let go.
i need someone to argue with me about politics. and contemplate life.
i need someone who can make me laugh over the worst of situations.
i dont need someone i can share my feelings with, but someone i want to share my feelings with. so much so that i say things out loud that i never thought i would say.
i need someone to live for.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
if you hadnt broken me, i wouldnt have this childlike desire
and since i left the last one unfinished...
we haven't met yet. but you'll like me. it wont be instant infatuation. but you'll think to yourself, "this girl is pretty cool." and then we'll become friends because we'll randomly run into each other around campus.
and we'll get to know each other. and you'll see that i dont get upset. or annoying. or emotional. very easily. and you'll like that. you'll see that i am independent. and you'll like the fact that i dont need you. and i wont feel awkward texting you to do things all the time. because i know you know that i am not obsessive. but merely like friends. and we'll have so much fun together that we'll spend all of our time together. and you'll crash on my floor. but it means nothing. except that we're comfortable.
and this random dude came and sat down next to me. (like for reals dog). and i and finding it to be very awkward that i am writing this. next to him. because if he read this. he'd think i was crazy. or maybe he already thinks i am crazy for blogging. which i tried to hide. i dont know why i dont like for people to see me when i am blogging. thats odd. i'm odd.
anyway. then i'll tell you. and once i tell you, there's no turning back. and you'll hold me as i cry. and it wont be the same anymore. and it is then that you'll tell me that you love me. and it will be perfect.
and now that i am thouroughly phsyco. i am going to end this.
we haven't met yet. but you'll like me. it wont be instant infatuation. but you'll think to yourself, "this girl is pretty cool." and then we'll become friends because we'll randomly run into each other around campus.
and we'll get to know each other. and you'll see that i dont get upset. or annoying. or emotional. very easily. and you'll like that. you'll see that i am independent. and you'll like the fact that i dont need you. and i wont feel awkward texting you to do things all the time. because i know you know that i am not obsessive. but merely like friends. and we'll have so much fun together that we'll spend all of our time together. and you'll crash on my floor. but it means nothing. except that we're comfortable.
and this random dude came and sat down next to me. (like for reals dog). and i and finding it to be very awkward that i am writing this. next to him. because if he read this. he'd think i was crazy. or maybe he already thinks i am crazy for blogging. which i tried to hide. i dont know why i dont like for people to see me when i am blogging. thats odd. i'm odd.
anyway. then i'll tell you. and once i tell you, there's no turning back. and you'll hold me as i cry. and it wont be the same anymore. and it is then that you'll tell me that you love me. and it will be perfect.
and now that i am thouroughly phsyco. i am going to end this.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
.:nothing tastes as sweet as what i can't have:.
so i am only writing this for my bff who's dying.
death. (she's not really dying, i hope)
why is everyone scared of it? what is there in this world to be scared of? because if you think about it, you don't have time to be scared. once you die, there is no getting that time back. the way i see it, we're all going to die sometime.
you may think i am being morbid. but really i'm living it up. i'm living my life knowing that one day this will all be over. and every minute i have with my family. my best friends. my dog. my chocolate. and you. all of you. should be cherished. and it sounds cheesy. but why be sad. or angry. or scared. when you could be savoring those moments having fun. because none of it will matter in the end.
the only thing i am scared of is experiencing something awful and then having to live with it. for always. until death. and isnt death something peaceful? a rest from all of this? not to say i want to leave this. but i just dont think it is something to be scared of. when it comes it comes. there is no controlling it. why dread it? no one really knows what to expect.
and i think that is what gets me about religion. the claim to know what happens after death.
i just dont get fear of death. thats all.
and i met mr. perfect. he actually follows all of the guidelines amazingly. (i wasnt sure he actually existed). well, we havent exactly met. i saw him sing though. and now i'll proceed to thouroughly stalk. it a very attractive way of course. i mean come on: who would have thought i'd ever score a date with hot carl? (hope, him or one of his friends don't randomly read this, because that would be awkward. because carl isnt even on the list. he's nice. but i'm not wooing over him. or wanting to date him. he's not on the list.)
anyway, so there is this random chance that mp and i could become friends. and we all know (well at least i know) that relationships work out best if you are friends first. seriously. so i want to be friends with mp. and then best friends. and then he can fall in love with me. but i can't like him at first. because that's the only way i seem to get them. when i could care less about being attractive or flirty or care what i say next.
and i still cant get over that with one of the listers. because i think this lister reminds me of high school. and the boys i would awkwardly attempt to be a & f around. and so i repremand myself and try to get over it which i think makes me seem like an indifferent bitch.
and to my listers: so there is this thing where a guy you really care about comes up and hugs you from behind and wraps his arms around you. stopping you from feeling vulnerable. and you feel completely safe. and warm. dont forget warm (this is not a 90 degree weather maneuver. most effective when practiced in cold weather).
death. (she's not really dying, i hope)
why is everyone scared of it? what is there in this world to be scared of? because if you think about it, you don't have time to be scared. once you die, there is no getting that time back. the way i see it, we're all going to die sometime.
you may think i am being morbid. but really i'm living it up. i'm living my life knowing that one day this will all be over. and every minute i have with my family. my best friends. my dog. my chocolate. and you. all of you. should be cherished. and it sounds cheesy. but why be sad. or angry. or scared. when you could be savoring those moments having fun. because none of it will matter in the end.
the only thing i am scared of is experiencing something awful and then having to live with it. for always. until death. and isnt death something peaceful? a rest from all of this? not to say i want to leave this. but i just dont think it is something to be scared of. when it comes it comes. there is no controlling it. why dread it? no one really knows what to expect.
and i think that is what gets me about religion. the claim to know what happens after death.
i just dont get fear of death. thats all.
and i met mr. perfect. he actually follows all of the guidelines amazingly. (i wasnt sure he actually existed). well, we havent exactly met. i saw him sing though. and now i'll proceed to thouroughly stalk. it a very attractive way of course. i mean come on: who would have thought i'd ever score a date with hot carl? (hope, him or one of his friends don't randomly read this, because that would be awkward. because carl isnt even on the list. he's nice. but i'm not wooing over him. or wanting to date him. he's not on the list.)
anyway, so there is this random chance that mp and i could become friends. and we all know (well at least i know) that relationships work out best if you are friends first. seriously. so i want to be friends with mp. and then best friends. and then he can fall in love with me. but i can't like him at first. because that's the only way i seem to get them. when i could care less about being attractive or flirty or care what i say next.
and i still cant get over that with one of the listers. because i think this lister reminds me of high school. and the boys i would awkwardly attempt to be a & f around. and so i repremand myself and try to get over it which i think makes me seem like an indifferent bitch.
and to my listers: so there is this thing where a guy you really care about comes up and hugs you from behind and wraps his arms around you. stopping you from feeling vulnerable. and you feel completely safe. and warm. dont forget warm (this is not a 90 degree weather maneuver. most effective when practiced in cold weather).
Sunday, October 21, 2007
its exhilerating, isn't it? this annonymous act of complete vulnerability.
so i should be doing my homework.
but i am sitting here, listening to hanson. hanson christmas music. and writing. because it's what i do. and what i wish i could do for the rest of my like.
all i need: eat. sleep. breathe. shower. read. write. screw. music.
and YOU. i could use you. you might come in handy.
i really have nothing else to say.
except that i'm a pig. and i'm starting a diet. in a few minutes...when i finish my chocolate covered pretzels.
and isaac hanson had to have life saving surgery. i think i'll send flowers.
i think i am strong enough to break. i've thought about it. and i think i've tried to be hard for so long. that i've become what i have always pretended to be. and i've cried once since i've been here. once. and you're not allowed to know why. and i wouldnt have if they hadnt forced me to be weak.
i think i'm going to break. because i want to tell you so badly. and i dont know why its you i need to tell. because you're the biggest dick i know. and you'd probably think it was awkward. and feel nothing. but i missed out on that "cry to your girlfriends" gene. its not my thing. so i need you. and i need you to be quiet. and listen. and hug me. and let me cry. and look like an idiot trying to breath and talk and cry and make inhuman sounds. and cry because there are words i cant physically say. an i wont be able to look at you. i guarentee that.
and this conversation. confession. confrontation. may not happen for a long time. or maybe never. and i guess that would be okay. because some one would have to replace you. and then i would be fine. unless they couldnt hear it either.
and to the one i love the most:
i'm sorry that my mistakes became your problems. that was not the intention. and i miss you. and i know what i did was wrong. just know i love you more than anything. they were mistakes you could never recover from. and i knew full well when i made them. and i hope you're happy now, wherever you are.
and sometimes i wonder if you hate me.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
the tales we tell ourselves about ourselves make us who we are.
its true. when we talk to ourselves we're as honest as it gets. well, i mean except if your dillusional. which could be your own fault.
if you think you'll marry every guy you meet: you're dillusional. if you think everyone has a huge raging crush on you: you're dillusional. if you think your going to marry a guy you've been dating for two weeks: you're dillusional.
sad fact is: i have several dillusional friends. if you're sitting there thinking, "gee, i have no idea who she's talking about right now," YOU'RE THAT FRIEND. ( i mean unless you go to cmu...in which case you should enlighten me on the fact that you're reading this)
so i found this great song: the general by dispatch. and it makes me think of how we should be.
"i have seen the others
and i have discovered,
that this fight is not worth fighting.
i have seen them others,
and i will no other
to follow me where i'm going."
i mean think about it. how many people would face something alone in order to save others? and how many people would face death when they have the chance to turn back?
"take your shower,
shine your shoes.
you've got no time to lose.
you are young men.
you must be living.
go now,
you are forgiven."
i don't know. maybe it makes me feel good. restoring faith in the existence of integrity. convincing me this world isnt just a big, superficial lie.
and i know its weird. but i have this strange obsession with ghandi. and benjamin franklin. and buddhism. it just seems logical. passive resistance. peace. rationality. realistic. good.
good is vague. i know. but it is how i feel. religiously. in life. it is my mantra. do good. be good. take bad and turn it into good. good.
and maybe i should be the one looking for a religion. but that goes against me. who i am. my independent thinking. i can't sit through a church service without questioning. no matter where i am. my church. your church. your temple.
and maybe i'm not looking because i cant stand all of this religious dogma. who is to say a person who doesnt follow the church and their ideals cant be good?
ANYWAY, so the point of this blog is to acknowledge the fact that i found my ideal man. yesterday. at the movie theater. which has subsequently caused me to ponder my mr. perfect:
he has long hair. not gross long. but light brown to blonde and flowy and silky. and not girly or greasy. but manly in a way that compliments his jaw structure. and not too long...but chin length. yes, i am a long hair girl.
and he will wear a blazer. yep, eternally dressed in a blazer. even to bed. and in the shower, there too will he be blazer laden. anyway, it will be tweed. and only a certain type of guy can pull off the tweed blazer. my kind of guy.
and he will of course have to play an instrument. acoustic guitar. none of this "I-try-to-be-badass" electric guitar kind of stuff. he doesnt need to flaunt it but he will have a good voice. not an "i love playing guitar but sing through my nose and sound horrible" kind of guy who you feel bad for and cringe listening to them. and just would rather them just stop all together. nope he isnt one of those. he is pretty dank.
and he can have an accent if he pleases. though it isnt required. i make no prejudices on country of origin...well maybe a few.
and there were other things.....oh yeah, he has to be athletic. which contradicts the last few requirements. well, maybe all of them. but has to be able to ball with me. and volleyball with me, and raquetball with me (my new obsession). and fend for his own when approached by other ballers. so that i dont have to cringe over our aquaintance.
and he will care. but not judge. and he wont care about before. only he will, but only about the way it affects me. and he will respect it. and listen. and say all the right things. and we'll have deep intelectual conversations. about life. and religion. and the good of the world. and i'll learn from him. and be challenged by him.
basically he'll be my male amber.
and he'll understand my mistakes. which is actually number one. and he'll love me even when he doesnt like me. and we'll fight. we'll fight over stupid stuff like jelly. and we'll fight over big stuff. but only because we love so much it hurts.
and i know i sound emo. but maybe those emo kids know a thing or two about this kind of stuff. love and pain. well, maybe not.
anyway. this blog is glorious randomocity. boyeee.
if you think you'll marry every guy you meet: you're dillusional. if you think everyone has a huge raging crush on you: you're dillusional. if you think your going to marry a guy you've been dating for two weeks: you're dillusional.
sad fact is: i have several dillusional friends. if you're sitting there thinking, "gee, i have no idea who she's talking about right now," YOU'RE THAT FRIEND. ( i mean unless you go to cmu...in which case you should enlighten me on the fact that you're reading this)
so i found this great song: the general by dispatch. and it makes me think of how we should be.
"i have seen the others
and i have discovered,
that this fight is not worth fighting.
i have seen them others,
and i will no other
to follow me where i'm going."
i mean think about it. how many people would face something alone in order to save others? and how many people would face death when they have the chance to turn back?
"take your shower,
shine your shoes.
you've got no time to lose.
you are young men.
you must be living.
go now,
you are forgiven."
i don't know. maybe it makes me feel good. restoring faith in the existence of integrity. convincing me this world isnt just a big, superficial lie.
and i know its weird. but i have this strange obsession with ghandi. and benjamin franklin. and buddhism. it just seems logical. passive resistance. peace. rationality. realistic. good.
good is vague. i know. but it is how i feel. religiously. in life. it is my mantra. do good. be good. take bad and turn it into good. good.
and maybe i should be the one looking for a religion. but that goes against me. who i am. my independent thinking. i can't sit through a church service without questioning. no matter where i am. my church. your church. your temple.
and maybe i'm not looking because i cant stand all of this religious dogma. who is to say a person who doesnt follow the church and their ideals cant be good?
ANYWAY, so the point of this blog is to acknowledge the fact that i found my ideal man. yesterday. at the movie theater. which has subsequently caused me to ponder my mr. perfect:
he has long hair. not gross long. but light brown to blonde and flowy and silky. and not girly or greasy. but manly in a way that compliments his jaw structure. and not too long...but chin length. yes, i am a long hair girl.
and he will wear a blazer. yep, eternally dressed in a blazer. even to bed. and in the shower, there too will he be blazer laden. anyway, it will be tweed. and only a certain type of guy can pull off the tweed blazer. my kind of guy.
and he will of course have to play an instrument. acoustic guitar. none of this "I-try-to-be-badass" electric guitar kind of stuff. he doesnt need to flaunt it but he will have a good voice. not an "i love playing guitar but sing through my nose and sound horrible" kind of guy who you feel bad for and cringe listening to them. and just would rather them just stop all together. nope he isnt one of those. he is pretty dank.
and he can have an accent if he pleases. though it isnt required. i make no prejudices on country of origin...well maybe a few.
and there were other things.....oh yeah, he has to be athletic. which contradicts the last few requirements. well, maybe all of them. but has to be able to ball with me. and volleyball with me, and raquetball with me (my new obsession). and fend for his own when approached by other ballers. so that i dont have to cringe over our aquaintance.
and he will care. but not judge. and he wont care about before. only he will, but only about the way it affects me. and he will respect it. and listen. and say all the right things. and we'll have deep intelectual conversations. about life. and religion. and the good of the world. and i'll learn from him. and be challenged by him.
basically he'll be my male amber.
and he'll understand my mistakes. which is actually number one. and he'll love me even when he doesnt like me. and we'll fight. we'll fight over stupid stuff like jelly. and we'll fight over big stuff. but only because we love so much it hurts.
and i know i sound emo. but maybe those emo kids know a thing or two about this kind of stuff. love and pain. well, maybe not.
anyway. this blog is glorious randomocity. boyeee.
Monday, October 15, 2007
my vagina monologue
i am not as strong as i seem.
i am merely weak but can't accept it.
and i know i am not as strong as some of you.
knowing what i know, i dont know how you laugh. and not just laugh. but roll on the floor laughing. more than the rest of us. and maybe its because laughing makes you feel better.
but it makes me feel better too.
and you amaze me. your confidence. your joy. your strength. you have no idea.
a week ago, you were just crazy. now you're more. though i cant spell it out for you. just realize how strong you really are.
and although you may feel weak. like i used to feel weak. you aren't.
you just have to understand that i love you. yes, i actually said it. and although other people treat you in horrible ways that contradict your entire view of human integrity and good.
and you have the compassion to feel bad. to understand. and that, i dont understand. and you care about how it would affect everyone else. and i go back to thinking your crazy right about now.
I am amazed that the strongest most joyful people i meet are those who have experienced the worst kind of pain. the worst kind of people. the worst kind of life.
and it makes me wonder where we went wrong. all of us. mankind. where did we go so wrong so that our most compassionate, most admirable people are those who have to experience some sort of trauma to get there.
Your (everyone else) problem isnt that bad. yes you, whoever is reading this.
go make someone's day. do something nice. be compassionate. laugh like you're about to lose your voice forever. and mostly, stick up for those who cant stick up for themselves. protect them. protect their innocence. the one that so many of us have lost.
i am merely weak but can't accept it.
and i know i am not as strong as some of you.
knowing what i know, i dont know how you laugh. and not just laugh. but roll on the floor laughing. more than the rest of us. and maybe its because laughing makes you feel better.
but it makes me feel better too.
and you amaze me. your confidence. your joy. your strength. you have no idea.
a week ago, you were just crazy. now you're more. though i cant spell it out for you. just realize how strong you really are.
and although you may feel weak. like i used to feel weak. you aren't.
you just have to understand that i love you. yes, i actually said it. and although other people treat you in horrible ways that contradict your entire view of human integrity and good.
and you have the compassion to feel bad. to understand. and that, i dont understand. and you care about how it would affect everyone else. and i go back to thinking your crazy right about now.
I am amazed that the strongest most joyful people i meet are those who have experienced the worst kind of pain. the worst kind of people. the worst kind of life.
and it makes me wonder where we went wrong. all of us. mankind. where did we go so wrong so that our most compassionate, most admirable people are those who have to experience some sort of trauma to get there.
Your (everyone else) problem isnt that bad. yes you, whoever is reading this.
go make someone's day. do something nice. be compassionate. laugh like you're about to lose your voice forever. and mostly, stick up for those who cant stick up for themselves. protect them. protect their innocence. the one that so many of us have lost.
Friday, October 12, 2007
and though our hearts are slightly used....
i lied when i said we needed to be friends. because we dont need. i want to be your friend. why? because we're not friends.
i try to be your friend. but i am tired of trying. why? because it makes me seem needy. i'm not needy. i dont need anyone.
Why do i try? thats a question i cant answer. because there is no logic behind it.
maybe i thought there was something. maybe you thought it too. but then the competition came along. the enemy is competitive. so am i. so competitive that i would rather quit than lose. so i quit. half of me gave up. but the second half stuck around to maintain the obligatory friend part that comes with not ending a non-relationshit that didnt exist.
but that parts ready to give up on you too.
and you (a different you, dont think i'd write this all about you). you cant be missing me. you arent allowed. and if you do. you arent allowed to say it. even if youre drunk.
why? because i cant handle you. if it took you thousands of miles to need me like i used to need you, then youre too late.
you're late because you couldnt stick it out. and she needs you now. and i wouldnt be human if i let another girl go through the process of needing someone who took their need out on another girl. or several.
and because she needs you, you cant tell me you love me. because i know thats next. and you think it. i know you too well. thats the downside of being in love and knowing someone better than they know themselves. because you havent changed much.
but me. i'm different. i went through all the same change you went through from 15 to 19. i was 15.
and i realize how lucky i am. to have fallen in love. but i deserve more. i respect myself too much to be shitted around with.
you cant tell me you miss me. not now.
and you: the best kind of you. a new you. i am so ready. ssssooooo ready. i've let my guard down. and i am waiting. to free fall with you. take the plunge. take the leap. and i'll skydive of you'll be my parachute.
i've been holding myself up for too long. and i'm tired. but i'll wait as long as it takes. until me knees crumble and i can no longer stand the pain.
so forgive me if i unload when you get here. because i've been holding a lot.
but please come quickly. because i am not sure how long i will last.
i try to be your friend. but i am tired of trying. why? because it makes me seem needy. i'm not needy. i dont need anyone.
Why do i try? thats a question i cant answer. because there is no logic behind it.
maybe i thought there was something. maybe you thought it too. but then the competition came along. the enemy is competitive. so am i. so competitive that i would rather quit than lose. so i quit. half of me gave up. but the second half stuck around to maintain the obligatory friend part that comes with not ending a non-relationshit that didnt exist.
but that parts ready to give up on you too.
and you (a different you, dont think i'd write this all about you). you cant be missing me. you arent allowed. and if you do. you arent allowed to say it. even if youre drunk.
why? because i cant handle you. if it took you thousands of miles to need me like i used to need you, then youre too late.
you're late because you couldnt stick it out. and she needs you now. and i wouldnt be human if i let another girl go through the process of needing someone who took their need out on another girl. or several.
and because she needs you, you cant tell me you love me. because i know thats next. and you think it. i know you too well. thats the downside of being in love and knowing someone better than they know themselves. because you havent changed much.
but me. i'm different. i went through all the same change you went through from 15 to 19. i was 15.
and i realize how lucky i am. to have fallen in love. but i deserve more. i respect myself too much to be shitted around with.
you cant tell me you miss me. not now.
and you: the best kind of you. a new you. i am so ready. ssssooooo ready. i've let my guard down. and i am waiting. to free fall with you. take the plunge. take the leap. and i'll skydive of you'll be my parachute.
i've been holding myself up for too long. and i'm tired. but i'll wait as long as it takes. until me knees crumble and i can no longer stand the pain.
so forgive me if i unload when you get here. because i've been holding a lot.
but please come quickly. because i am not sure how long i will last.
Monday, October 8, 2007
.waiting for blood to flow to my fingers.
things are what you make them. it is a simple as that. mind over body. if i could believe only one thing. it would be that we can control everything with our minds. everything. we control our happiness. depression. excitement. enjoyment. empowerment.
sure, there are flaws in this theory. i'm not quite sure we can levitate things with our mind. and we sure as hell cant control other... which is sad and unfortunant. we cant control what happens to us. but we have control over what we make of it.
i'm kinda weirded out by people who want to transfer already. like they think the whole process of unparalleled change will be any different somewhere else. i mean sure you can go back to the local college where all of your friends go....but then is it even really change?
dont you think that, at some point, college will become comfortable just like high school was? and was there really never a point in high school where you didnt want to be there either? its all about perspective. maybe your preconceived notions about college were too high...or maybe just different. you expected to come to college and meet some amazing girl or guy (or in between) and you would fall madly in love with each other. right? high school was for messing around...college for settling down. okay maybe not for some guys. and maybe not for me.
but you havent found that person two months into college and all hope is lost. and you dont have that great group of friends yet. and there for never will. or classes suck. but dont classes suck everywhere? i mean unless you're in art school, classes just suck ass.
so why can't you stick it out? so you hate it? join something. put yourself out there. go out and do something.
except come into my room. do not come and sit your ass down in my room. unless i've invited you. because i am sick and tired of people thinking i have all the time in the world to pay attention to them. or all the concentration in the world to ignore them and their loud noises. because i dont. so please dont sit on my stuff or eat my food or use my shit.
sure, there are flaws in this theory. i'm not quite sure we can levitate things with our mind. and we sure as hell cant control other... which is sad and unfortunant. we cant control what happens to us. but we have control over what we make of it.
i'm kinda weirded out by people who want to transfer already. like they think the whole process of unparalleled change will be any different somewhere else. i mean sure you can go back to the local college where all of your friends go....but then is it even really change?
dont you think that, at some point, college will become comfortable just like high school was? and was there really never a point in high school where you didnt want to be there either? its all about perspective. maybe your preconceived notions about college were too high...or maybe just different. you expected to come to college and meet some amazing girl or guy (or in between) and you would fall madly in love with each other. right? high school was for messing around...college for settling down. okay maybe not for some guys. and maybe not for me.
but you havent found that person two months into college and all hope is lost. and you dont have that great group of friends yet. and there for never will. or classes suck. but dont classes suck everywhere? i mean unless you're in art school, classes just suck ass.
so why can't you stick it out? so you hate it? join something. put yourself out there. go out and do something.
except come into my room. do not come and sit your ass down in my room. unless i've invited you. because i am sick and tired of people thinking i have all the time in the world to pay attention to them. or all the concentration in the world to ignore them and their loud noises. because i dont. so please dont sit on my stuff or eat my food or use my shit.
Friday, October 5, 2007
i think there's a chance of the possibility that i may be broken.
so people cry.
i used to say only weak people cried. which was why i wouldnt.
but there were those times when you'd start crying for no apparent reason. or something completely ridiculous. or at the drop of a hat. or before someone can finish "what's wrong?" and that used to happen to me. i didnt get it. i didnt like it.
and then there was that thing. and that time when i cried my share of tears for the rest of my existence. because it was then that i was weak. and i didnt want anyone to see it. i couldnt be weak.
so i faked it. and got good at it. too good.
and now i am starting to think my tearducts may be broken. whether i drained them of all of their tears or they've been so long out of use. i dont know. but they dont work anymore.
and i try. and sometimes i feel like crying might help the situation. or just be an emotional heimlick for the crap thats choking me up. but it wont work. and i'll think about bad things. and the accumulation of suckiness.
but i cant feel sorry for myself. maybe its because i've gained perspective. and maybe that's why i cant feel bad for you. or your situation.
i used to say only weak people cried. which was why i wouldnt.
but there were those times when you'd start crying for no apparent reason. or something completely ridiculous. or at the drop of a hat. or before someone can finish "what's wrong?" and that used to happen to me. i didnt get it. i didnt like it.
and then there was that thing. and that time when i cried my share of tears for the rest of my existence. because it was then that i was weak. and i didnt want anyone to see it. i couldnt be weak.
so i faked it. and got good at it. too good.
and now i am starting to think my tearducts may be broken. whether i drained them of all of their tears or they've been so long out of use. i dont know. but they dont work anymore.
and i try. and sometimes i feel like crying might help the situation. or just be an emotional heimlick for the crap thats choking me up. but it wont work. and i'll think about bad things. and the accumulation of suckiness.
but i cant feel sorry for myself. maybe its because i've gained perspective. and maybe that's why i cant feel bad for you. or your situation.
it must be in the water.....
for the life of me, i cannot remember, what made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise.
i make no promises. this blog wont be as good as the last one. i'm not as bitter (i mean don't get me wrong, i'm still generally hatish). but i'm not as funny. i've kind of lost it since i came here. because my humor offends people. and thats not a great way to make friends.
so i sit here, listening to my man, johnny, and try to think. i try to be deep. but we all know thats not my thing. i try generate that blunt humor that used to come out of my mouth before i could realize what i was saying. but its hiding somewhere. or i left it at home. and i am definitely not as green. not horny. nope, don't want in your pants (that is a very unwhitney statement right thurr). i must have left that in oregon too. (though i hate to think i reserved it for
the boys there.)
WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!?
home. i catch myself saying i am going home and its weird. this isnt home. this cave under my bed=not home.
now that i think about it. i have stories. i just can't post them on the internet. because they're politically incorrect (i dont get that term; i get socially unaccepted but not incorrect).
we're all looking for that something.
that specific something. we know exaclty what it is. but we're not sure what we deserve.
and then we find ourselves settling. for something less. maybe because we feel obligated. or maybe we dont think we'll ever find better. and we lower our standards.
don't settle. don't give up.
and then you find yourself 80, unhappy, and alone. are you unhappy because you're 80? or because your alone? because the world provides no justice, right? aren't you supposed to be eternally happy after you start your career? get married? turn 30? don't we do all of this bullshit to be happy? isn't that why i let physics rape me every night?
or does happiness even exist? now, bitter whitney would tell you no. but positive, upbeat whitney (she exists?) says yes. happiness is a state of mind. i'd develop on the idea...but then i'd feel like i was writing an essay. or worse, lecturing you.
i can't give you advice. or tell you what to do. it's against my nature. who am i to tell you how to do things? i dont think i'm better than you. i'm not even better/more important/more worthy than shit (the person).
so unless i ask you for advice: don't give it.
this is going no where. i hate it. i hate this blog.
i make no promises. this blog wont be as good as the last one. i'm not as bitter (i mean don't get me wrong, i'm still generally hatish). but i'm not as funny. i've kind of lost it since i came here. because my humor offends people. and thats not a great way to make friends.
so i sit here, listening to my man, johnny, and try to think. i try to be deep. but we all know thats not my thing. i try generate that blunt humor that used to come out of my mouth before i could realize what i was saying. but its hiding somewhere. or i left it at home. and i am definitely not as green. not horny. nope, don't want in your pants (that is a very unwhitney statement right thurr). i must have left that in oregon too. (though i hate to think i reserved it for
the boys there.)
WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!?
home. i catch myself saying i am going home and its weird. this isnt home. this cave under my bed=not home.
now that i think about it. i have stories. i just can't post them on the internet. because they're politically incorrect (i dont get that term; i get socially unaccepted but not incorrect).
we're all looking for that something.
that specific something. we know exaclty what it is. but we're not sure what we deserve.
and then we find ourselves settling. for something less. maybe because we feel obligated. or maybe we dont think we'll ever find better. and we lower our standards.
don't settle. don't give up.
and then you find yourself 80, unhappy, and alone. are you unhappy because you're 80? or because your alone? because the world provides no justice, right? aren't you supposed to be eternally happy after you start your career? get married? turn 30? don't we do all of this bullshit to be happy? isn't that why i let physics rape me every night?
or does happiness even exist? now, bitter whitney would tell you no. but positive, upbeat whitney (she exists?) says yes. happiness is a state of mind. i'd develop on the idea...but then i'd feel like i was writing an essay. or worse, lecturing you.
i can't give you advice. or tell you what to do. it's against my nature. who am i to tell you how to do things? i dont think i'm better than you. i'm not even better/more important/more worthy than shit (the person).
so unless i ask you for advice: don't give it.
this is going no where. i hate it. i hate this blog.
Friday, September 28, 2007
so i got rid of the rest because they're blackmail.
start at the BOTTOM. that is today's post. you can read the next few when you're done...but they aren't good ones. the good ones are gone.
also, my superlatives:
Most Likely To Change their Facebook Relationship Status for the Drama
Most Likely To Be a Badass for Life
Most Likely To Steal Candy from a Baby
Most Likely To Sell their Soul for a Donut
so basically i am a dramatic, mean badass/fatass.
what a compliment.
also, my superlatives:
Most Likely To Change their Facebook Relationship Status for the Drama
Most Likely To Be a Badass for Life
Most Likely To Steal Candy from a Baby
Most Likely To Sell their Soul for a Donut
so basically i am a dramatic, mean badass/fatass.
what a compliment.
why? because i'm bossy.
Wait! What's a MILKSHAKE?
Sperm doesn't come out of boobs!?!?!?!?!?!
ah, the wonderful world of inside jokes.
if you havent noticed. i use song lyrics. a lot.
and despite the fact that i dont wish i was anywhere with anyone, making out, dashboard confessional wishes i was. and that is all that matters.
so dont take me too seriously.
in order to keep up the boy crazy reputation that this blog seems to be, i will tell yet another crazy story from my embarassing life.
oh and by the way, i spent like a half hour writing one once. then i accidentally deleted it. so i proceeded to give up and didnt return to the computer for many hateful days.
so story time. we're on our way home from p-town on friday. which means everyone was leaving for labor day weekend and traffic was hella-bad. but to our (Megan, Katie Patterson, Alex Frances) enjoyment. there were MANY gorgeous fellows on I-5 at the same time.
so we're being our normal crazy car-dancing selves. in order to entertain our highway campanions. which worked. Believe me. we got more stares than a wet t-shirt contest.
so there is this one kid with his dad. but still seems to enjoy blaring music and ghetto dancing. so we write our (by ours i mean mine, unfortunantly) phone number on a peice of paper and throw it into his car. he proceeds to throw it out immediatly and next time he passes us, empties an entire water bottle our way. our way meaning through our open windows directly on us. dick.
anyway. so before we even think to react the girl in the car behind the dick gives us a hollar and tosses her full water bottle to us. She was quite possible the coolest person ever.
in the end. we got him good.
but all the while. there was another hottie right in front of this kid. who we we're also entertaining. so we tried to throw him a number too. but missed. so the next round. he drove soooo close to megan's car i held out my (monkey) arm. he held out his. and was close enough that he grabbed it. oh yeah and he was involved in the water fight too. amazing.
now if that isnt a story. i dont know what is. I guess you probably had to be there.
Sperm doesn't come out of boobs!?!?!?!?!?!
ah, the wonderful world of inside jokes.
if you havent noticed. i use song lyrics. a lot.
and despite the fact that i dont wish i was anywhere with anyone, making out, dashboard confessional wishes i was. and that is all that matters.
so dont take me too seriously.
in order to keep up the boy crazy reputation that this blog seems to be, i will tell yet another crazy story from my embarassing life.
oh and by the way, i spent like a half hour writing one once. then i accidentally deleted it. so i proceeded to give up and didnt return to the computer for many hateful days.
so story time. we're on our way home from p-town on friday. which means everyone was leaving for labor day weekend and traffic was hella-bad. but to our (Megan, Katie Patterson, Alex Frances) enjoyment. there were MANY gorgeous fellows on I-5 at the same time.
so we're being our normal crazy car-dancing selves. in order to entertain our highway campanions. which worked. Believe me. we got more stares than a wet t-shirt contest.
so there is this one kid with his dad. but still seems to enjoy blaring music and ghetto dancing. so we write our (by ours i mean mine, unfortunantly) phone number on a peice of paper and throw it into his car. he proceeds to throw it out immediatly and next time he passes us, empties an entire water bottle our way. our way meaning through our open windows directly on us. dick.
anyway. so before we even think to react the girl in the car behind the dick gives us a hollar and tosses her full water bottle to us. She was quite possible the coolest person ever.
in the end. we got him good.
but all the while. there was another hottie right in front of this kid. who we we're also entertaining. so we tried to throw him a number too. but missed. so the next round. he drove soooo close to megan's car i held out my (monkey) arm. he held out his. and was close enough that he grabbed it. oh yeah and he was involved in the water fight too. amazing.
now if that isnt a story. i dont know what is. I guess you probably had to be there.
top ten reasons i am lame.
For old times sake:
10. i dont like scary movies.
9. i don't care what i look like.
8. I quit (club) Volleyball.
7. I quit a job after three days.
6. i dont make an effort to be friendly.
5. in turn, i can be really rude.
4. i dont know what i want.
3. i hit on a thirteen-year-old.
2. I don't like parties. i like groups of 8.
and the winner is...
1. I am at home on a saturday night. blogging. on myspace. (well i was when i wrote this)
is this not the most perfect day of your existance?
today.
i was happy. like legitimately happy. and i don't mean that in a "legit- i try to be cool" way. but in a "you could do whatever you want. i am happy by myself" kind of way.
i was walking back from class. and the weather knew exactly which way to turn and exactly how to cool the skin the sun had so kindly warmed. the kind of wind that blows your hair out of your face. not into your chapstick. that ruins both hair and burt's bees laden lips.
and i was infinite. and i wanted to be a wallflower. and experience the perks of not having the crazy girl in her bra yell at you to take her pancakes. her reasoning: because she's in a bra.
someone outside my door has a really low voice. they said "testicles." I am at the peak of my maturity. quite clearly.
anyway, back to the perfection of existance. i think i've found it. (i just back spaced to uncapitalize an i; how messed up is that?) i used to think i didnt need people. but i do. i used to think i could sit in my room all day and be content. but i can't.
and i am still independent she-woman man-hating, i-do-what-i-want (or what you dont want) whitney. (okay, so i am not all about girl power and man-hating, but doesn't that sound hardcore).
i think "hater" is more fitting. I have a nickname for you. you dont know it but i do. (if you havent noticed, i dont address people by their name. i can if have to by i will go well out of my way not to.)
anyway, hater-ness. that's right folks. i have pet peeves. despite my perfection of existance. (and this is a horrible blog, but i promise there is better to come). i want to start wearing a sign that says "i don't want to date you." yes. that sounds good.
because many boys dont do the friend thing well. and i think those are the same guys who haven't exactly done the whole girl thing for very long. but you never know. and every guy thinks you need to go on a date. and then be incredibly awkward when you don't call them back. not because you dont like them. but because you dont want them to get the wrong impression. because they will.
AND I DONT WANT A RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU.
clear enough?
and i am not going through a lesbo phase. call it what you want.
and it's not that i don't want a relationship. because i do. i want that falling head over heels, you know your in lust but it doesnt matter, completely confortable, do cute things without pet names, genuinely care kind of relationship. follow all of that?
and i've been in love. and it sucks. not the being in love part. but the not being love anymore but knowing what its like enough for it to ruin all potential in the dating field because no one feels right like that first one did.
and you dont even want to date. because anything less perfect that requires effortful flirting and looking good and not embarassing yourself (because you never used to have to put any effort into those things) would be torture. especially when you know it wont work out from the get go.
you just want, i just want, the process to go strait from meet to comfy cuddle sweatpants parties and making out in an isle at the grocery store. and skip the awkward get to know you. so you search. i search.
and find yourself in utter dissapointment. how could you expect college to be any different? and you find that one or two that might work. the ones you would give a chance. but there are always complications. its a girl. and its not you. but you find yourself surprisingly unfeeling. unhurt. undeturred. and you don't know why.
and you're fine with the just friends status you so skillfully maintain. its an art. and you love it. but you're either the one they want to date or have nothing to do with. and that you hate.
but i dont know why i am talking about you. because i am talking about me. because i want to fall in love again. and have that person i can tell everything. someone i can tell that one thing that i could never tell anyone else. and so i search.
and for me to be infinite, i need someone to drive while i peak my head out the sunroof.
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