Wednesday, April 25, 2012
SHT.
You ever have a huge fight with someone, think you're doing just fine, then see their name on Facebook and realize you're really not alright without them. And that makes you sad, and they aren't there to tell them you're sad? Yeah. It sucks. But that's growing up, I guess. 'Cause I know I'm the only one who misses what used to be.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Depression.
Most people don't know this, but I suffer from depression. Most of the time I can think myself out of it. Most of the time, I'm okay during the day. It really only hits me at night now. Which is a HUGE improvement compared to how I used to be.
Depression isn't a state of mind, and it IS NOT something I have done to myself. Do you honestly think that I want to be depressed? NO! I fucking hate it! I try and push it away as much as I can, but since I'm not medicated (I'll explain why in a bit.) I can't really control it. I can only avoid it. And even then, I can only push it away for so long before it catches up with me. When it catches up with me, I'm either out of sorts for a night, or even a full week. This time, I'm closer to a whole week.
I've been told that depression is just a state of mind, I've been told that it's just a mood, I even just got told that I do it to myself. You guys, seriously? It's a disease. It is a mental illness. Will you please look it the fuck up before you try and tell me shit you don't know about? State of minds don't last 8 years. Neither do bad moods. I don't want to have a mental illness, let alone multiple. But I do, and there's nothing I can do to change that short of medication.
I refuse to take medication. Anti-depressants are counter productive and make you MORE depressed. There have been studies that show that they actually make you suicidal. Considering that's what I want to be far away from, that doesn't seem like the best idea. Not to mention, I can't swallow pills.
For some reason, I have it in my head that medication is for crazy people. And if I succumb to the meds, I'll be admiting that I'm crazy. And I don't think I am. I have problems, sure. But I'm OKAY most of the time. I know how to handle myself. But when bad things happen in my life, they all happen at once.
Nightmares. That's what triggered it this time. I had nightmares about my stepdad and stepbrothers. They weren't nightmares in the typical sense, no one got murdered and I wasn't scared. But when I dream about them, I wake up crying. It doesn't matter what happens in the dream, if they're in it, that's all it takes. In fact, the happier the dream, the worse off I am when I wake up. Especially if it involves my former older brother, Trevor. I had this one dream with him last week, and he was here. We were sitting on the hood of my car at that cliff in De Luz that overlooks Temecula. It was just a really, really, really happy dream. We talked about everything, and laughed all the time. Just like how we used to be. When I woke up, I remembered he was gone, and we were never going to have memories like that again. After I cried myself back to sleep, I dreamed about my stepdad. When I woke up, my room smelled like him. I didn't sleep the rest of the night after that. The next night, I had a dream that Trevor and I were in the Hunger Games arena. And he didn't even flinch as he was pulling the trigger on his gun. I watched the bullet flying towards me and the smile on his face was the last thing I saw before I woke up. I didn't sleep after that either.
I've been having nightmares this whole week. A lot involve them, but quite a few other people have been featured as well. The other night, I had a dream about Kenzie. In real life, she's been back home for three weeks. Only one person has gone to see her since. So, in my dream, I was with her and Kayla and we were walking through this really crowded place. Kenzie kept trying to say hi to people, and she was being ignored. Kenz was how she was before the accident, but no one remembered her or even recognized her. No one acknowledged her. But everyone in my dream was wearing the green 'Pray For Kenzie' bracelets. So it wasn't like she never existed, but they forgot she existed. This went on for quite a while, and then she finally started crying and was saying how upset she was that everyone forgot her. She was telling me how lonely her life is now, and how much it hurts to have everyone forget you. By the end of my dream, she was transforming back to how she currently is now, but before she did, she said "No one remembers me anyway, why keep trying?" I haven't woke up screaming or crying so hard in a really long time. People are moving on with their lives. Time is continuing. Each day that passes, we get farther and farther away from the time the accident happened. It's so close to a year, that I can't believe it. I think this dream hit so hard because it isn't just a nightmare. People really ARE forgetting her. . .
Adding on top of these nightmares, I've had a migraine, Kelsey and I aren't friends anymore, and people are just proving to be really flaky and unreliable.
It's really shitty, because when I'm happy, I have all kinds of people who talk to me. But when I truly need help just getting through the night, I'm alone. Completely alone.
Depression isn't a state of mind, and it IS NOT something I have done to myself. Do you honestly think that I want to be depressed? NO! I fucking hate it! I try and push it away as much as I can, but since I'm not medicated (I'll explain why in a bit.) I can't really control it. I can only avoid it. And even then, I can only push it away for so long before it catches up with me. When it catches up with me, I'm either out of sorts for a night, or even a full week. This time, I'm closer to a whole week.
I've been told that depression is just a state of mind, I've been told that it's just a mood, I even just got told that I do it to myself. You guys, seriously? It's a disease. It is a mental illness. Will you please look it the fuck up before you try and tell me shit you don't know about? State of minds don't last 8 years. Neither do bad moods. I don't want to have a mental illness, let alone multiple. But I do, and there's nothing I can do to change that short of medication.
I refuse to take medication. Anti-depressants are counter productive and make you MORE depressed. There have been studies that show that they actually make you suicidal. Considering that's what I want to be far away from, that doesn't seem like the best idea. Not to mention, I can't swallow pills.
For some reason, I have it in my head that medication is for crazy people. And if I succumb to the meds, I'll be admiting that I'm crazy. And I don't think I am. I have problems, sure. But I'm OKAY most of the time. I know how to handle myself. But when bad things happen in my life, they all happen at once.
Nightmares. That's what triggered it this time. I had nightmares about my stepdad and stepbrothers. They weren't nightmares in the typical sense, no one got murdered and I wasn't scared. But when I dream about them, I wake up crying. It doesn't matter what happens in the dream, if they're in it, that's all it takes. In fact, the happier the dream, the worse off I am when I wake up. Especially if it involves my former older brother, Trevor. I had this one dream with him last week, and he was here. We were sitting on the hood of my car at that cliff in De Luz that overlooks Temecula. It was just a really, really, really happy dream. We talked about everything, and laughed all the time. Just like how we used to be. When I woke up, I remembered he was gone, and we were never going to have memories like that again. After I cried myself back to sleep, I dreamed about my stepdad. When I woke up, my room smelled like him. I didn't sleep the rest of the night after that. The next night, I had a dream that Trevor and I were in the Hunger Games arena. And he didn't even flinch as he was pulling the trigger on his gun. I watched the bullet flying towards me and the smile on his face was the last thing I saw before I woke up. I didn't sleep after that either.
I've been having nightmares this whole week. A lot involve them, but quite a few other people have been featured as well. The other night, I had a dream about Kenzie. In real life, she's been back home for three weeks. Only one person has gone to see her since. So, in my dream, I was with her and Kayla and we were walking through this really crowded place. Kenzie kept trying to say hi to people, and she was being ignored. Kenz was how she was before the accident, but no one remembered her or even recognized her. No one acknowledged her. But everyone in my dream was wearing the green 'Pray For Kenzie' bracelets. So it wasn't like she never existed, but they forgot she existed. This went on for quite a while, and then she finally started crying and was saying how upset she was that everyone forgot her. She was telling me how lonely her life is now, and how much it hurts to have everyone forget you. By the end of my dream, she was transforming back to how she currently is now, but before she did, she said "No one remembers me anyway, why keep trying?" I haven't woke up screaming or crying so hard in a really long time. People are moving on with their lives. Time is continuing. Each day that passes, we get farther and farther away from the time the accident happened. It's so close to a year, that I can't believe it. I think this dream hit so hard because it isn't just a nightmare. People really ARE forgetting her. . .
Adding on top of these nightmares, I've had a migraine, Kelsey and I aren't friends anymore, and people are just proving to be really flaky and unreliable.
It's really shitty, because when I'm happy, I have all kinds of people who talk to me. But when I truly need help just getting through the night, I'm alone. Completely alone.
Friday, April 13, 2012
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
It's 1998. Levi and I are in the first grade. I don't know him yet, but I see him all the time on the playground. I decide I'm going to know this kid by the time the days over.
Hes playing with his hot wheel cars in the sand at the bottom of the slide, and I'm at the top on the landing of the playground with my barbies. I throw one down the slide, in an effort to get his attention. I don't hit him, but i do get his attention. Of course he's angry, I just chucked a Barbie at him. So he throws his toy car right back at my face. Hits me square in the mouth, causing one tooth to fall out and quite a bit of blood to pour out of of my gums As the blood is dripping down my face, we formed an unbreakable bond.
From that moment on, we have been inseparable. The last fourteen years, this kids been my other half. Throwing a toy at a random kid is the best choice I have ever made. I would be nothing without him.
Every minute I have spent happy, he's been by my side. Every minute spent angry, sad, confused, hurt, you name it, Levi Jeffrey Estrada has been there. He's been the one dependable thing in my life, no matter what is going on. He's supported me through the best and worst times. I wouldn't be here today without him.
I struggled with depression a lot in my younger years. In November of 2006, for irrelevant reasons, I attempted suicide. I stole a bunch of pills and I swallowed them. (this is why I can't swallow pills now, btw.) about a minute later, my phone rings. Levi had no idea I was doing this. No one did. But he called me to see how I was doing. At the sound of his voice, I started crying. I told him I loved him five thousand times, at least. I know he thought I was a weirdo, but like I said, he had no idea what was going on. I told him I'd call him back soon. I hung up the phone and vomited until I was sure the pills were out of my system. I vomited until nothing was coming up. And then I called him back and told him how grateful I was for him. I never told him what happened that day until 4 years later, in 2010. And even then we didn't get into it. Still to this day, he doesn't know the full story.
Had Levi not called me, I wouldn't have remembered that I did have reason to live. I did have reason to fight. I did have someone who loved me, despite the monster I thought I was. I owe every breath I have taken since that day to him. This is the main reason why I won't tolerate anyone in my life who doesn't get along with him. We are a package deal. You can't love me and not love Levi. Without Levi, there would not be a me to love. As it stands right now, I would have been dead for five and a half years. If you didn't know me before the first half of eighth grade, you would NEVER have known I existed, had it not been for this boy.
Levi is everything to me. Since the very first day on the playground. Before the blood on my face was dry, I knew we wouldn't spend a moment apart. I dont mean physically apart. Obviously with him living two hours away that isn't possible. But emotionally.
Everywhere I go, I carry Levi in my heart. I truly believe Levi is my soul mate. Now, before people start thinking this is some confession of in loveness, I'd like to point out that I don't mean that in the typical sense. I dont believe soul mates have to have a romantic level to them. Clearly, Levi and I don't. We go boy hunting together.
But I believe Levi's my soul mate. My soul and his are intertwined. You can't have just me without aspects of him. You can't have just him without aspects of me. Honestly, I don't even know which personality traits started as my own or I inherited from him and vice versa. Without him, I would truly be broken. My soul would be ripped into pieces. I do not know how to live without him. Nor do I want to learn.
Our friendship isn't a pushy one. It isn't one sided. It isn't stressful. It isn't one where either of us have to hide who we truly are. Not that we could since we're basically the same person, yknow. But still. It isn't one where we lie to save the others feelings. It isn't one where we even sugar coat. It isn't a friendship that we have to force. We don't preach at each other. We don't lecture. We don't try to change each others ways. If something makes one of us happy, the other supports us. We'll defend each other, right or wrong, to the very end. We're in this together, forever. Levi is my bestfriend, my partner in SOOO many crimes, my personal comedian, the one person who knows me like I know me, my reason to smile when things get tough, the person who listens, TRULY listens and remembers, my very best friend, my rock, my hero, my soul mate, my other half.
And that my friends, is how all friendships should be.
I love you Levi. 1998-forever.
Hes playing with his hot wheel cars in the sand at the bottom of the slide, and I'm at the top on the landing of the playground with my barbies. I throw one down the slide, in an effort to get his attention. I don't hit him, but i do get his attention. Of course he's angry, I just chucked a Barbie at him. So he throws his toy car right back at my face. Hits me square in the mouth, causing one tooth to fall out and quite a bit of blood to pour out of of my gums As the blood is dripping down my face, we formed an unbreakable bond.
From that moment on, we have been inseparable. The last fourteen years, this kids been my other half. Throwing a toy at a random kid is the best choice I have ever made. I would be nothing without him.
Every minute I have spent happy, he's been by my side. Every minute spent angry, sad, confused, hurt, you name it, Levi Jeffrey Estrada has been there. He's been the one dependable thing in my life, no matter what is going on. He's supported me through the best and worst times. I wouldn't be here today without him.
I struggled with depression a lot in my younger years. In November of 2006, for irrelevant reasons, I attempted suicide. I stole a bunch of pills and I swallowed them. (this is why I can't swallow pills now, btw.) about a minute later, my phone rings. Levi had no idea I was doing this. No one did. But he called me to see how I was doing. At the sound of his voice, I started crying. I told him I loved him five thousand times, at least. I know he thought I was a weirdo, but like I said, he had no idea what was going on. I told him I'd call him back soon. I hung up the phone and vomited until I was sure the pills were out of my system. I vomited until nothing was coming up. And then I called him back and told him how grateful I was for him. I never told him what happened that day until 4 years later, in 2010. And even then we didn't get into it. Still to this day, he doesn't know the full story.
Had Levi not called me, I wouldn't have remembered that I did have reason to live. I did have reason to fight. I did have someone who loved me, despite the monster I thought I was. I owe every breath I have taken since that day to him. This is the main reason why I won't tolerate anyone in my life who doesn't get along with him. We are a package deal. You can't love me and not love Levi. Without Levi, there would not be a me to love. As it stands right now, I would have been dead for five and a half years. If you didn't know me before the first half of eighth grade, you would NEVER have known I existed, had it not been for this boy.
Levi is everything to me. Since the very first day on the playground. Before the blood on my face was dry, I knew we wouldn't spend a moment apart. I dont mean physically apart. Obviously with him living two hours away that isn't possible. But emotionally.
Everywhere I go, I carry Levi in my heart. I truly believe Levi is my soul mate. Now, before people start thinking this is some confession of in loveness, I'd like to point out that I don't mean that in the typical sense. I dont believe soul mates have to have a romantic level to them. Clearly, Levi and I don't. We go boy hunting together.
But I believe Levi's my soul mate. My soul and his are intertwined. You can't have just me without aspects of him. You can't have just him without aspects of me. Honestly, I don't even know which personality traits started as my own or I inherited from him and vice versa. Without him, I would truly be broken. My soul would be ripped into pieces. I do not know how to live without him. Nor do I want to learn.
Our friendship isn't a pushy one. It isn't one sided. It isn't stressful. It isn't one where either of us have to hide who we truly are. Not that we could since we're basically the same person, yknow. But still. It isn't one where we lie to save the others feelings. It isn't one where we even sugar coat. It isn't a friendship that we have to force. We don't preach at each other. We don't lecture. We don't try to change each others ways. If something makes one of us happy, the other supports us. We'll defend each other, right or wrong, to the very end. We're in this together, forever. Levi is my bestfriend, my partner in SOOO many crimes, my personal comedian, the one person who knows me like I know me, my reason to smile when things get tough, the person who listens, TRULY listens and remembers, my very best friend, my rock, my hero, my soul mate, my other half.
And that my friends, is how all friendships should be.
I love you Levi. 1998-forever.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
A diploma is a piece of paper, not a ticket to maturity.
When I was in high school, everyone told me not to grow up too fast. They told me to enjoy it while I could, that it was going to end faster than I thought it would. I told these people they were nuts, and if I could just kindly graduate and get the fuck in the real world, I would be happy.
Freshman year, I procrastinated. I failed just about every class I had, even the easy ones. Graduation seemed like an eternity away, and it was just something that didn't matter to me. Graduation wasn't even in the realm of possibility for me at this point.
Sophomore year, I got my shit together a little bit. I tried harder in some classes, but still managed to fail quite a few. I only tried in the classes I liked and for the teachers I got along with. Everything else, serious procrastination. I wouldn't even try. Especially with geometry. I wouldn't pay attention in class. I would talk to Kezzi and Gilbert all period, I'd write notes to my other friends, I'd draw, text, anything to avoid actually paying attention to what Mr. Willess was saying. And then I'd get home and get pissed off at Mr. Willess when I couldn't understand the homework. Needless to say, I failed geometry. WITH THE LOWEST PERCENTAGE THAT MR. WILLESS HAD EVER GIVEN OUT IN HIS 30+ YEARS OF TEACHING. I don't really know why, but I was proud of that.
Junior year, I moved. I moved to a brand new high school, in a brand new town, in a brand new state, half way across the country. Fergus was where I realized I needed to really get my shit together. Fergus High was SOOOOO much less stressful than Fallbrook High. Montana's academic standards are a lot less intense than the California ones, and that alleviated a lot of my stress. I had absolutely awesome teachers, and I got along with all of them. I became friends with most of my teachers. There wasn't just the 'student-teacher' relationship. The teachers in Fergus actually made an effort to know you on a personal level. You weren't someone they just threw lectures and homework at. Mrs. Lewis was my favorite. I could talk to her like we've been friends forever. I loved my teachers. Even the attendance secretary, Andra, was my friend. I would go to the office just to say hi to her. Halfway through the year, Andra left and some other lady took her place. I don't remember the other lady's name, and even though she was my best friends cousin or something, I didn't like her. She wasn't Andra, so I despised her. Not really fair, but oh well. Even the vice principal, Mr. Majerus wasn't too bad. Except when he was dress coding me. I liked the atmosphere and the teachers better, so I tried harder. I passed all but one class.
Senior year, I rocked. I moved back to California, and I went to Ivy. Initially, I was scared to go to Ivy. That school has a reputation around town for being particularly dangerous. Ivy is known as the school for the drug addicts, the 2nd chance drop outs, the gang members, the failures, and the teen moms. I was certain I was going to piss off the wrong person and get my ass kicked within the first week. Good news, I didn't. :) I ended up actually getting a long with everyone. The teacher everyone hated, Mrs. Cawley, was my favorite. I ended up passing every class, and graduating on time with a $200 scholarship, after spending the whole year on honor roll or Principals honor roll.
And now, I'm graduated. A lot of people seem to think that receiving that diploma changed me. Well, sorry, but it really didn't.
Yes, I graduated high school and I have a diploma to prove it. I'm stoked that I actually managed to pull it off. However, it's just a piece of paper to me. Getting my diploma didn't make me an adult any more than getting my license turned me into a taxi driver. It's an accomplishment, a great one at that. I'm proud of me. But at the end of the day, it's still just a piece of paper.
Everyone demands so much responsibility and maturity from me. My mom doesn't think I should ever go out with my friends and have fun. It's a constant "Well, why didn't you do this this and this? Why isn't this this and this cleaned?" Etc, etc, etc. . .
I'm still a kid. I still like going out and doing stupid things with my friends. I listen to my music too loud. I sleep til two pm. I get stoked over swingsets and playgrounds. I cry when characters in my books die. I motherfucking love coloring books.
Don't get me wrong, I know how to be mature when I need to be. But it won't take over my whole life. I would really like to enjoy my life. I want to have fun, so I'm going to.
Experiences are what mature me, not pieces of paper. I'm sorry if that's a difficult concept for you, but walking across a stage and getting a piece of paper handed to me DIDN'T CHANGE ME. All it really changed was that I don't have to get up at 6am to get ready for school anymore. Please realize this.
Freshman year, I procrastinated. I failed just about every class I had, even the easy ones. Graduation seemed like an eternity away, and it was just something that didn't matter to me. Graduation wasn't even in the realm of possibility for me at this point.
Sophomore year, I got my shit together a little bit. I tried harder in some classes, but still managed to fail quite a few. I only tried in the classes I liked and for the teachers I got along with. Everything else, serious procrastination. I wouldn't even try. Especially with geometry. I wouldn't pay attention in class. I would talk to Kezzi and Gilbert all period, I'd write notes to my other friends, I'd draw, text, anything to avoid actually paying attention to what Mr. Willess was saying. And then I'd get home and get pissed off at Mr. Willess when I couldn't understand the homework. Needless to say, I failed geometry. WITH THE LOWEST PERCENTAGE THAT MR. WILLESS HAD EVER GIVEN OUT IN HIS 30+ YEARS OF TEACHING. I don't really know why, but I was proud of that.
Junior year, I moved. I moved to a brand new high school, in a brand new town, in a brand new state, half way across the country. Fergus was where I realized I needed to really get my shit together. Fergus High was SOOOOO much less stressful than Fallbrook High. Montana's academic standards are a lot less intense than the California ones, and that alleviated a lot of my stress. I had absolutely awesome teachers, and I got along with all of them. I became friends with most of my teachers. There wasn't just the 'student-teacher' relationship. The teachers in Fergus actually made an effort to know you on a personal level. You weren't someone they just threw lectures and homework at. Mrs. Lewis was my favorite. I could talk to her like we've been friends forever. I loved my teachers. Even the attendance secretary, Andra, was my friend. I would go to the office just to say hi to her. Halfway through the year, Andra left and some other lady took her place. I don't remember the other lady's name, and even though she was my best friends cousin or something, I didn't like her. She wasn't Andra, so I despised her. Not really fair, but oh well. Even the vice principal, Mr. Majerus wasn't too bad. Except when he was dress coding me. I liked the atmosphere and the teachers better, so I tried harder. I passed all but one class.
Senior year, I rocked. I moved back to California, and I went to Ivy. Initially, I was scared to go to Ivy. That school has a reputation around town for being particularly dangerous. Ivy is known as the school for the drug addicts, the 2nd chance drop outs, the gang members, the failures, and the teen moms. I was certain I was going to piss off the wrong person and get my ass kicked within the first week. Good news, I didn't. :) I ended up actually getting a long with everyone. The teacher everyone hated, Mrs. Cawley, was my favorite. I ended up passing every class, and graduating on time with a $200 scholarship, after spending the whole year on honor roll or Principals honor roll.
And now, I'm graduated. A lot of people seem to think that receiving that diploma changed me. Well, sorry, but it really didn't.
Yes, I graduated high school and I have a diploma to prove it. I'm stoked that I actually managed to pull it off. However, it's just a piece of paper to me. Getting my diploma didn't make me an adult any more than getting my license turned me into a taxi driver. It's an accomplishment, a great one at that. I'm proud of me. But at the end of the day, it's still just a piece of paper.
Everyone demands so much responsibility and maturity from me. My mom doesn't think I should ever go out with my friends and have fun. It's a constant "Well, why didn't you do this this and this? Why isn't this this and this cleaned?" Etc, etc, etc. . .
I'm still a kid. I still like going out and doing stupid things with my friends. I listen to my music too loud. I sleep til two pm. I get stoked over swingsets and playgrounds. I cry when characters in my books die. I motherfucking love coloring books.
Don't get me wrong, I know how to be mature when I need to be. But it won't take over my whole life. I would really like to enjoy my life. I want to have fun, so I'm going to.
Experiences are what mature me, not pieces of paper. I'm sorry if that's a difficult concept for you, but walking across a stage and getting a piece of paper handed to me DIDN'T CHANGE ME. All it really changed was that I don't have to get up at 6am to get ready for school anymore. Please realize this.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Fuck studying.
I should be studying. Instead, I'm stealing surveys off tumblr. YOLO.
1: What eye color do you find sexiest?
Green.
2: White, milk, or dark chocolate mocha?
White.
3: If you could get a Sharpie tattoo on your back, what would it be?
If I trusted any of my friends with a sharpie to my back, I would end up with a dick drawn on me. No question.
4: Did you grow up in a small or big town? Did you like it?
Small town by Cali standards, but still pretty big. And I did before I lived somewhere better.
5: Your favorite adult as a child? (and not your parents, if they were your favorite)
Probably Megan Sullivans mom, Colleen. That lady is awesome.
6: What kind of smoothie sounds really good right now?
MANGO. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO ASK.
7: Most embarrassing moment from your elementary school years?
When I fell off the monkey bars. ):
8: Most embarrassing moment from your middle school years?
Uh. Every single day of middle school was embarrassing.
9: Most embarrassing moment from your high school years?
Uuuuhhh. My whole freshman year.
10: Pirates or ninjas? Why?
Pirates. But I have a really cool ninja jacket...
11: Have you ever climbed a tree more than twenty feet off the ground?
Nope.
12: Did you like swinging as a child? Do you still get excited when you see a swing set?
LOVE. And you bet your ass I do.
13: If you could have any pet in the world, illegal or not, what would you get?
A MOTHA FUCKING MOOSE.
14: What's your most favorite part of your body?
DAT ASS.
15: What's your most favorite part of your personality?
All of it. My personality is awesome.
16: Madonna or Lady Gaga? Neither? Both? Who cares?
Gaga, bitch. I love her. <3
17: Have you ever watched the Superbowl all the way through?
Never even watched a little bit of it.
18: Have you ever watched any major sporting event drunk?
Kinda. Some football game was on on new years 09, i glanced at it in the middle of eating tortillas and losing my pants. (still don't know what happened to those.)
19: What's the most delicious food you've ever eaten in your life?
The California burrito at colimas.
20: Margarine or butter? Which did you grow up with?
Butter. And margarine.
21: Whole, skim, 1%, or 2% milk? (Did you know they make 1 1/2% milk?)
No milk because that's icky. And no I didn't!
22: Which continents have you been on?
Just north America, I'm boring.
23: Do you get motion sickness? Any horror stories?
Noooope and nope.
24: Backpacks or satchels?
Don't care.
25: Would you wear a rainbow jacket? A neon yellow sweater? Checkered pants?
Yes. Yes. And yes. I actually used to own checkered pants!
26: What was your favorite cartoon growing up?
Rugrats!
27: If you had to have a cow or a pig, which would you take? Why?
Pig. Because they're cuter. And if I get mad at it, I get bacon.
28: If you had to look at one city skyline for the rest of your life, which would it be?
Seattle. Seattle has the most beautiful skyline.
29: Longest plane ride you've ever been on?
The one I'll be on this summer, because itll be my first.
30: The latest you've ever slept?
All day.
31: Would you buy a sweater covered in kitten pictures? Would you wear it if someone gave it you for free?
HELL YEAH.
32: Do you pick at scabs?
I do. XD
33: Favorite kind of bean? Kidney? Black? Pinto?
...the squished up ones you get at Mexican restaurants.
34: How far can you throw a baseball?
Ahaha like two feet.
35: If you had to move to another country, where would you move?
Canada.
36: Have you ever eaten Ethiopian food? Vietnamese? Korean? Nepalese? How was it?
Lol silly, Ethiopians don't have food. But no to all of the above.
37: Small, liberal arts school or public university? Why?
Whichever is cheaper, cause I'm a broke ass.
38: A relationship with love or one with sex?
One with love AND sex.
39: Do you eat enough vegetables?
Nowhere near enough.
40: Do you like horror movies? How about thrillers?
Yes and yes!
41: Would you scratch a crotch itch in public?
Nooo.
42: Do you swear in front of your parents?
I do indeed!
43: Coolest thing you've ever been for Halloween?
Zombie bride!!
44: If you could change your natural hair color, would you? To what?
.....oh survey you obviously don't know that I haven't had my natural hair color since fifth grade. But yes I currently want to do it bright red and black.
45: Do you want to get married? Have kids?
Yes and yes!
46: Do you use a reusable water bottle? If not, you should.
Why do I get the feeling you're judging me survey...
47: City or nature person?
Nature.
48: Have you ever used something other than "makeup" as makeup? (Like paint? Markers?)
Ballpoint pen as eyeliner! Not my wisest choice buuuut it worked.
49: Can you walk well in high heels? Even if you're a guy?
Not really.
50: Post 5 awesome things about yourself. BRAG AWAY!
- I'm really good at doing hair.
- I love learning about serial killers.
- giving me a hoodie is the way to my heart.
- pretty sure green tea runs through my veins instead of blood.
- my car has a buttcrack.
1: What eye color do you find sexiest?
Green.
2: White, milk, or dark chocolate mocha?
White.
3: If you could get a Sharpie tattoo on your back, what would it be?
If I trusted any of my friends with a sharpie to my back, I would end up with a dick drawn on me. No question.
4: Did you grow up in a small or big town? Did you like it?
Small town by Cali standards, but still pretty big. And I did before I lived somewhere better.
5: Your favorite adult as a child? (and not your parents, if they were your favorite)
Probably Megan Sullivans mom, Colleen. That lady is awesome.
6: What kind of smoothie sounds really good right now?
MANGO. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO ASK.
7: Most embarrassing moment from your elementary school years?
When I fell off the monkey bars. ):
8: Most embarrassing moment from your middle school years?
Uh. Every single day of middle school was embarrassing.
9: Most embarrassing moment from your high school years?
Uuuuhhh. My whole freshman year.
10: Pirates or ninjas? Why?
Pirates. But I have a really cool ninja jacket...
11: Have you ever climbed a tree more than twenty feet off the ground?
Nope.
12: Did you like swinging as a child? Do you still get excited when you see a swing set?
LOVE. And you bet your ass I do.
13: If you could have any pet in the world, illegal or not, what would you get?
A MOTHA FUCKING MOOSE.
14: What's your most favorite part of your body?
DAT ASS.
15: What's your most favorite part of your personality?
All of it. My personality is awesome.
16: Madonna or Lady Gaga? Neither? Both? Who cares?
Gaga, bitch. I love her. <3
17: Have you ever watched the Superbowl all the way through?
Never even watched a little bit of it.
18: Have you ever watched any major sporting event drunk?
Kinda. Some football game was on on new years 09, i glanced at it in the middle of eating tortillas and losing my pants. (still don't know what happened to those.)
19: What's the most delicious food you've ever eaten in your life?
The California burrito at colimas.
20: Margarine or butter? Which did you grow up with?
Butter. And margarine.
21: Whole, skim, 1%, or 2% milk? (Did you know they make 1 1/2% milk?)
No milk because that's icky. And no I didn't!
22: Which continents have you been on?
Just north America, I'm boring.
23: Do you get motion sickness? Any horror stories?
Noooope and nope.
24: Backpacks or satchels?
Don't care.
25: Would you wear a rainbow jacket? A neon yellow sweater? Checkered pants?
Yes. Yes. And yes. I actually used to own checkered pants!
26: What was your favorite cartoon growing up?
Rugrats!
27: If you had to have a cow or a pig, which would you take? Why?
Pig. Because they're cuter. And if I get mad at it, I get bacon.
28: If you had to look at one city skyline for the rest of your life, which would it be?
Seattle. Seattle has the most beautiful skyline.
29: Longest plane ride you've ever been on?
The one I'll be on this summer, because itll be my first.
30: The latest you've ever slept?
All day.
31: Would you buy a sweater covered in kitten pictures? Would you wear it if someone gave it you for free?
HELL YEAH.
32: Do you pick at scabs?
I do. XD
33: Favorite kind of bean? Kidney? Black? Pinto?
...the squished up ones you get at Mexican restaurants.
34: How far can you throw a baseball?
Ahaha like two feet.
35: If you had to move to another country, where would you move?
Canada.
36: Have you ever eaten Ethiopian food? Vietnamese? Korean? Nepalese? How was it?
Lol silly, Ethiopians don't have food. But no to all of the above.
37: Small, liberal arts school or public university? Why?
Whichever is cheaper, cause I'm a broke ass.
38: A relationship with love or one with sex?
One with love AND sex.
39: Do you eat enough vegetables?
Nowhere near enough.
40: Do you like horror movies? How about thrillers?
Yes and yes!
41: Would you scratch a crotch itch in public?
Nooo.
42: Do you swear in front of your parents?
I do indeed!
43: Coolest thing you've ever been for Halloween?
Zombie bride!!
44: If you could change your natural hair color, would you? To what?
.....oh survey you obviously don't know that I haven't had my natural hair color since fifth grade. But yes I currently want to do it bright red and black.
45: Do you want to get married? Have kids?
Yes and yes!
46: Do you use a reusable water bottle? If not, you should.
Why do I get the feeling you're judging me survey...
47: City or nature person?
Nature.
48: Have you ever used something other than "makeup" as makeup? (Like paint? Markers?)
Ballpoint pen as eyeliner! Not my wisest choice buuuut it worked.
49: Can you walk well in high heels? Even if you're a guy?
Not really.
50: Post 5 awesome things about yourself. BRAG AWAY!
- I'm really good at doing hair.
- I love learning about serial killers.
- giving me a hoodie is the way to my heart.
- pretty sure green tea runs through my veins instead of blood.
- my car has a buttcrack.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Liking pictures on Facebook doesn't make you a good person.
I'm SO damn tired of my news feed being raped with these things;
1.) "Like for heaven, ignore for hell" / "Like for Jesus / ignore for Satan"
2.) "Like if you would answer" (Includes a fake iPhone screenshot of 'Jesus/God' calling.)
3.) "Like if you wish cancer didn't exist"
4.) "One like = one prayer!"
5.) "If you don't repost this horribly depressing picture, you're heartless!"
6.) (In the 'Most Beautiful Teen Contest') All the "Like if you think she's beautiful" pictures of cancer patients/ war vets with deformities caused by various things in the war.
7.) Actually, just ALL of that damn Most Beautiful Teen Contest.
8.) Joseph Kony.
9.) Treyvon Martin.
10.) People who obsess over telling you they're 90's kids.
And here is why!
1.) "Like for heaven, ignore for hell" / "Like for Jesus / ignore for Satan"
So there's a way to count the number of votes for Jesus/Heaven, but not for Satan/Hell. Say a person with 700 friends reposts it. And 10 of there friends like it, but the other 690 ignore it. So that's ten votes for Heaven/Jesus, but 690 for Hell/Satan. Sorry, but looks like Hell and Satan win that round.
2.) "Like if you would answer" (Includes a fake iPhone screenshot of 'Jesus/God' calling.)
Why the fuck would Jesus call you? He's telepathic. Plus, with how many Jesus freaks there are out there, if his phone number got leaked, it would end with more calls than if a celebs phone number got leaked. Shit would get CRAAAAAY!!
3.) "Like if you wish cancer didn't exist"
Uhm. . . are there people who are happy cancer exists? Because y'know, call me crazy, but I kinda thought it went without saying that we all wished cancer didn't exist.
4.) "One like = one prayer!"
Uhm, no. One like equals one like. One prayer equals one prayer. Completely different things. That's like saying one Cheezit = one Dr. Pepper. (that's what I'm eating and drinking right now.) And if I were to say that, people would be like "Are you stupid? Cheezits and Dr. Pepper are TOTALLY DIFFERENT." That's precisely my point. You can like and pray, just like I can have cheezits and Dr. Pepper. But they're not interchangeable.
5.) "If you don't repost this horribly depressing picture, you're heartless!"
Uh, no. More like "If you laugh or get pleasure out of this horribly depressing picture, you're heartless." I have a heart, and I use it to not depress the fuck out of everyone in my life. No one wants to log into Facebook and see depressing pictures!! And if you do, you've got issues.
6.) (In the 'Most Beautiful Teen Contest') All the "Like if you think she's beautiful" pictures of cancer patients/ war vets with deformities caused by various things in the war.
The only reason you're liking these pictures, is because you think you look like a good person. Using death or diseases to get sympathy to win some stupid internet contest is sickening.
7.) Actually, just ALL of that damn Most Beautiful Teen Contest.
Why do people care so much what strangers on the internet think of them...? Is your life so pitiful that that actually matters to you? Get some self esteem, please.
8.) Joseph Kony.
HE ISN'T EVEN IN UGANDA. Half the people who claim to care about this shit couldn't even tell you where Uganda IS. But, hey look. He wasn't captured, and people STOPPED CARING. It was just a fad, and everyone who bought into it is stupid.
9.) Treyvon Martin;
Yes, it's sad. Very sad that he died. But the fact of the matter is, we DON'T know if he was innocently just walking. He had to have said something that provoked Zimmerman. I didn't say he's a saint, but he probably wasn't totally innocent either. The only reason you guys are making such a big deal out of this is because a white/mexican guy shot a black guy. It's all race.
10.) People who obsess over telling you they're 90's kids.
NO ONE CARES. You know how many people were born in the timespan of ten years? You're not fucking special.
1.) "Like for heaven, ignore for hell" / "Like for Jesus / ignore for Satan"
2.) "Like if you would answer" (Includes a fake iPhone screenshot of 'Jesus/God' calling.)
3.) "Like if you wish cancer didn't exist"
4.) "One like = one prayer!"
5.) "If you don't repost this horribly depressing picture, you're heartless!"
6.) (In the 'Most Beautiful Teen Contest') All the "Like if you think she's beautiful" pictures of cancer patients/ war vets with deformities caused by various things in the war.
7.) Actually, just ALL of that damn Most Beautiful Teen Contest.
8.) Joseph Kony.
9.) Treyvon Martin.
10.) People who obsess over telling you they're 90's kids.
And here is why!
1.) "Like for heaven, ignore for hell" / "Like for Jesus / ignore for Satan"
So there's a way to count the number of votes for Jesus/Heaven, but not for Satan/Hell. Say a person with 700 friends reposts it. And 10 of there friends like it, but the other 690 ignore it. So that's ten votes for Heaven/Jesus, but 690 for Hell/Satan. Sorry, but looks like Hell and Satan win that round.
2.) "Like if you would answer" (Includes a fake iPhone screenshot of 'Jesus/God' calling.)
Why the fuck would Jesus call you? He's telepathic. Plus, with how many Jesus freaks there are out there, if his phone number got leaked, it would end with more calls than if a celebs phone number got leaked. Shit would get CRAAAAAY!!
3.) "Like if you wish cancer didn't exist"
Uhm. . . are there people who are happy cancer exists? Because y'know, call me crazy, but I kinda thought it went without saying that we all wished cancer didn't exist.
4.) "One like = one prayer!"
Uhm, no. One like equals one like. One prayer equals one prayer. Completely different things. That's like saying one Cheezit = one Dr. Pepper. (that's what I'm eating and drinking right now.) And if I were to say that, people would be like "Are you stupid? Cheezits and Dr. Pepper are TOTALLY DIFFERENT." That's precisely my point. You can like and pray, just like I can have cheezits and Dr. Pepper. But they're not interchangeable.
5.) "If you don't repost this horribly depressing picture, you're heartless!"
Uh, no. More like "If you laugh or get pleasure out of this horribly depressing picture, you're heartless." I have a heart, and I use it to not depress the fuck out of everyone in my life. No one wants to log into Facebook and see depressing pictures!! And if you do, you've got issues.
6.) (In the 'Most Beautiful Teen Contest') All the "Like if you think she's beautiful" pictures of cancer patients/ war vets with deformities caused by various things in the war.
The only reason you're liking these pictures, is because you think you look like a good person. Using death or diseases to get sympathy to win some stupid internet contest is sickening.
7.) Actually, just ALL of that damn Most Beautiful Teen Contest.
Why do people care so much what strangers on the internet think of them...? Is your life so pitiful that that actually matters to you? Get some self esteem, please.
8.) Joseph Kony.
HE ISN'T EVEN IN UGANDA. Half the people who claim to care about this shit couldn't even tell you where Uganda IS. But, hey look. He wasn't captured, and people STOPPED CARING. It was just a fad, and everyone who bought into it is stupid.
9.) Treyvon Martin;
Yes, it's sad. Very sad that he died. But the fact of the matter is, we DON'T know if he was innocently just walking. He had to have said something that provoked Zimmerman. I didn't say he's a saint, but he probably wasn't totally innocent either. The only reason you guys are making such a big deal out of this is because a white/mexican guy shot a black guy. It's all race.
10.) People who obsess over telling you they're 90's kids.
NO ONE CARES. You know how many people were born in the timespan of ten years? You're not fucking special.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
You're not a superfan, you're a douche.
Y'know what gets the fuck on my nerves? People who get so obsessed with a band/artist that they become dicks to anyone else who likes the band/artist. Otherwise known as "superfans" or as I like to call them, "supercunts."
I see this all over Tumblr, YouTube and even Facebook.
"You're not a true fan unless you liked them before such and such date." or "You're not a true fan if you listen to this other artist also." Or "you're not a true fan unless you own every single CD, and since you don't, you can't wear their shirt."
And of course, the most famous example of this, Skrillex. "You're not a true Skrillex fan if you didn't like/know him when he was Sonny Moore." OKAY, WHAT?! First of all, Skrillex is NOT this dude's legal name, nor is he an entirely different human so guess what! HE'S FUCKING STILL SONNY MOORE, YOUR ARGUMENT IS SHIT, AND YOU ARE A CUNT. Same thing for "If you didn't like him in From First To Last, you're not a real Skrillex fan." I hate to state the obvious, buuuuuuuuut, From First To Last and Skrillex are completely different types of music!! Just, shut up.
Also, sorry Mel, but you won't like this next bit.
Metalheads annoy the fuck out of me. Not all, but the ones who are like so instant that their music is better than everyone elses. "BUT IT IS!" shout the metal heads. "FUCK OFF!" I shout back. I don't fucking care how hardcore you think you are. My mom was a true metalhead, back in the 80s when this music came out. And I've told my mom about today's "metalheads" and her exact words were, "True metalheads kicked the shit out of dumbasses like that." Thank you, mother.
Tonight, I saw on Tumblr some blonde chick wearing a Slayer shirt she got at Urban Outfitters. Quite a few people reblogged it and said a bunch of really rude shit about her. Apparently, judging by this ONE PICTURE they could tell she's some big poser and all that. And they were all making fun of her saying she isn't a real fan. . .
WHY IS YOUR LIFE SO PATHETIC THAT THESE THINGS ACTUALLY MATTER TO YOU?!
Like honestly. Some girl on the internet - ONE YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW - wants to wear a shirt of a band you like. Okay, tell me. How does this effect your life at all? And if it does, YOU NEED TO RE-EVALUATE YOUR FUCKING LIFE. Personally? I fucking LOVE Anti-Flag. But I don't dress like a punk or listen to any other punk music. I own every single album they've made, seen them in concert and have more than one thing autographed by them. But since I don't dress or act like a punk, I'm not a fan. By Mel and her friends' logic, that is. Well, that logic is bullshit, 'cause I motherfucking love Anti-Flag.
The point I'm trying to make is this. At the end of the day when you go to lay down and sleep, if other people's music and clothing choices cause this much of a ruckuss in your life, you need to reevaluate yourself. If the girl in that picture doesn't listen to Slayer, then she's going to come out looking like a fucking idiot in the end anyway. But the bigger possibility here is this, she's like me and Anti-Flag. She likes/loves, but doesn't obsess. And y'know what? She probably isn't a cunt.
Dear "superfans",
No one cares about your "superfan"ish-ness.
We all think you're a supercunt.
Everyone does, except your fellow supercunts.
Please suck my dick and grow up.
Thank you, have a nice day.
-Rebecca & the rest of the world.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
I'm spending the summer in Montana.
If I get another job, I'm quitting when schools out. . . Because I'll be spending the summer in Montana.
Lewistown kids, don't get super stoked just yet. I'll be in Ronan, which is over by kalispel.
My father was never around in my life. But his parents and brothers were. I feel like I need to get closer to that side of my family. I miss them a lot. I talk to my uncles on Facebook, but my grandparents are technologically impaired, so they don't even have a computer. I've never been good with phone calls, so we aren't as close as I'd like us to be.
Anyway, I decided I'm going to spend the summer with them. I might even go on a ride with my uncle Kirk, who's a semi driver. It seems like it'd be fun.
I still haven't talked the idea over with my grandparents or my mom, but we've been talking about me spending a summer there since I was a little kid. I wanna do it though.
So, I won't be spending the whole summer in Lewistown, though I will visit there quite often. At least one week a month I'll be there. And I'll definately be at the shake it for Kenzie.
I'll also be moving the date of mine closer to spring. I'm thinking mid may. That's still in the works though.
So, thats my plan. And I'm hopefully gonna do it. It feels good making this plan. :3
I wanna leave at the end of may, and come back in late August. I'm stoked. :D
Lewistown kids, don't get super stoked just yet. I'll be in Ronan, which is over by kalispel.
My father was never around in my life. But his parents and brothers were. I feel like I need to get closer to that side of my family. I miss them a lot. I talk to my uncles on Facebook, but my grandparents are technologically impaired, so they don't even have a computer. I've never been good with phone calls, so we aren't as close as I'd like us to be.
Anyway, I decided I'm going to spend the summer with them. I might even go on a ride with my uncle Kirk, who's a semi driver. It seems like it'd be fun.
I still haven't talked the idea over with my grandparents or my mom, but we've been talking about me spending a summer there since I was a little kid. I wanna do it though.
So, I won't be spending the whole summer in Lewistown, though I will visit there quite often. At least one week a month I'll be there. And I'll definately be at the shake it for Kenzie.
I'll also be moving the date of mine closer to spring. I'm thinking mid may. That's still in the works though.
So, thats my plan. And I'm hopefully gonna do it. It feels good making this plan. :3
I wanna leave at the end of may, and come back in late August. I'm stoked. :D
Saturday, February 25, 2012
120 in a 75.(:
So, the title of this post is from a song by my friend Sam's band, Better Words For A Farewell. Here, love them;
So, this morning, I got up early and took Winston in to the shop for an oil change and his headlight was out. My passenger side headlight is a fucking trooper, because this is the third time my drivers side has gone out. But it was funny, cause I pulled in and the main mechanic saw Winston and his face fell. They really don't like my car down at ProTire. One of the guys even called it the Scumbag Satan Mobile... But Winston's been doing so good lately! I'm so proud of my lil buggie<3
So anyway, I have to vent about the drama going on between some of my friends. So, for the last two years, I've been close to Danielle, Kyle and Kelsey. Danielle and Kyle live in Havre, and Kelsey in Lewistown. Danielle and Kyle dated for a while in the past. But now Kyle's dating Kelsey. And everyone's flipping out. And not just flipping out, but they're flipping out to me. And I'm like NO.
I love Kelsey. I love Danielle. I love Kyle. I don't want to hear anyone talk shit on any of them or their relationships or tell me one is cheating on the other. I just don't want to hear anything about Kelsey and Kyle's relationship UNLESS KELSEY OR KYLE TELL ME.
I'm sorry Danielle's upset. It sucks seeing the ex you love dating someone else. I totally see her side. But I also see Kyle's side. Him and Danielle have had a roller coaster relationship and he just wants to move on with his life. And Kelsey just wants to be happy with the guy who makes her happy. I'm sorry that Kelsey being happy hurts danielle, but you can't please everyone.
More importantly, I can't please everyone. In fact, this entire situation is out of my hands. So why people choose to come to me with "information", I won't understand.
Yes, Kelsey is my best friend. But so is Danielle and Kyle. I'm in an awkward situation, but I don't want it to be awkward so PLEASE no one else try making it awkward!
Just call me Switzerland, because I want to stay neutral as possible in this whole situation. I won't be picking sides, I love them ALL.
Friday, February 24, 2012
MY life, MY choices.
Last week, I made the decision to quit my job. I made this choice for a couple reasons. Mainly, I'm too stressed. You wouldn't think that Panda Express would be a stressful job, but you'd be wrong. It's very stressful, and it's really having a toll on my health. I have hypertension and insomnia and nutrient deficiency. None of which I had time when I could take care of myself. I. Need. To. Take. Care. Of. Myself. I absolutely ADORE some of my coworkers, don't get me wrong. But a lot of them are really hard to work with. Namely, Julio, Nana, Lucy, and Gustavo. I did not make it all the way through high school to be bullied as an adult. Honestly, I'm just not happy there anymore. Eddie, Lani and Jose are amazing people to work for, but I don't see them enough to make my job worth while. I just don't like it anymore. I wake up on days I have to go to work, and I'm in a bad mood. I don't like my job anymore. And I know, "sometimes you've got to do things you don't like." No, I don't. My life is too short to do things that make me unhappy. Call me childish if you please, but in the end, which one of us is gonna be happy with our endeavors? I am. I'll be happy and childish while you be grown up and miserable. I'm cool with that.
But the thing is, my mom's now freaking out. She's yelling at me nonstop about how "I had it so good!" and bullshit. It annoys me because she has no idea what it's like over there. Sure, she works next door. But no one's ever rude to me in front of her. So she thinks I'm imagining it or some crap, who knows. She even gave me the same shit about the doing things I don't like.
NO, NO, NO, NO, NO. I'm not going to do things that make me unhappy. I'm sorry if you don't like that, but I'm quite alright with being happy.
Support me or don't, but I'm a big kid now, and I'm going to make choices because they're what will make me happy and healthy.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
The minds of girls.
So, I don't know if girls are really this mysterious, or the boys I hang out with are just that stupid.
I guess things need clarification, so here I am to do so. (Most of these are requests.)
- The Friendzone; "Girls are always asking where the nice guys are, in the friend zone where you left them." or however that quote goes. Alllllllllllrighty boys, here's where you're wrong. That's where we leave the boring guys. Girls don't like guys who're nice 24/7. It gets annoying. That's NOT NOT NOT saying we want a douchebag, because truthfully, they suck too. Frankly, bad boys are sexy. Pussies are not. If we wanted a pussy, we'd be a lesbian. The perfect mix of bad boy to everyone else, but sweet to me is the sexiest thing ever. And by 'Perfect mix' I don't mean you act like the boy who has to fight everyone who looks at me. Mystery is sexy. If you're friendzoned, it's because you're either too nice, or too much of a douche. Or there's just no challenge. If you're always throwing yourself at us, there's no challenge. GIRLS LIKE A CHALLENGE. Y'guys gotta keep shit interesting.
- Why we play mindgames; there really isn't much explanation to this one. It's fucking fun. That's it. That's all there is to it. Guys are so simple minded sometimes, that it's amusing. Kind of like we're puppeteers and they're puppets. We honestly just do it for shits and giggles.
- Why we get hypocritical; guys are hypocritical sometimes too. Everyone is. It happens.
- Why we think all guys are terrible because of one guy; This isn't necessarily true. At least not for us smart girls. If you've been around for any of my relationships, it's common knowledge that I don't pick out that many winners. But I don't think ALL guys are bad. And if a girl does think all guys are bad because of one bad guy, they should be shot in the vagina.
- Why we like to be indirect; Fuck if I know. This is one mystery of the girl world I may never get. Some girls are retarded. I'll admit that I've done this, but now that I've grown into my common sense, I don't get it much. If you wanna say something to someone, just say it. Most of the time, the guy you're indirectly talking to ISN'T GOING TO GET IT. Or if they do get it, they're probably going to be insulted and question your IQ for not just straight up telling them. It's also going to get all the smart girls to roll their eyes at you. That's all that's gonna accomplish.
- Why most of us - especially the hot ones - think we're ugly; Simple. Low self esteem. Someone important somewhere down the line has probably brought us down. In my own personal experience, most days I can look at myself and know I'm not ugly. I'm pretty damn cute, actually. But sometimes, I just don't believe people when they say it. Enough people in my past have said bad things about me that it brought me down. It happens to all of us. I personally don't like how I look without my makeup and hair done. Some of my friends tell me I have natural beauty and stuff, and don't need it. But I like it. I don't think I NEED it to be attractive, I just think I'm much more attractive with it. Being all done up gives a girl more confidence. As for the girls who constantly whine and post captions on self-pictures saying "omg i'm ugly", I would like to shoot them in the vagina as well. You don't think it's an ugly picture of you, or you wouldn't have posted it on the internet. You're fishing for compliments, and you're retarded. Shutthefuckup. And it's dumb, because most of the girls who do that AREN'T EVEN UGLY. Fuckin' A.
- Why most girls are compulsive liars; because girls are bitches. But girls aren't the only liars, boys lie a lot too. Basically, dishonest people need to be shot in the vagina. And if they're a boy, they need to be shot until they have a vagina. Then shot in the vagina. And yes, this is my choice torture method of the week.
- "Why we decide to crush on boys when they're not into us, but the second they're into us, we don't like them anymore"; I'm not really sure what kind of girls you're kickin' it with, Twitch, but it sounds like you need better taste. But if you mean what I think you mean, it's cause there's no more challenge. Which, if you missed it earlier, girls like a challenge.
- The duck face/Fake orange tans; they want to be shot in the vagina.
- Why we go to the (public) bathroom in groups; I . . . I honestly have no answer for why we do this. I mean, I do it. I just don't know why.
Anyway, these are all the answers I got when I asked what people wanted explained. So, here it is. (I might have to post a part two tomorrow, depending on the replies I get from this.)
Monday, February 13, 2012
I just got my life saved by a ghost, nbd.
Okay, so this might sound crazy to some of you, because I still can barely believe it happened myself.
So there's about two or three miles of palm trees right before my work. They're all lined up on the side of the road, and it's pretty. About a month ago, a marine and his wife were driving down that stretch. He lost control of his car and they crashed into one of the palm trees. The tree cut him in half and he obviously died. I don't know what ended up happening to his wife. No matter how many times I google it, I can't find anything out.
There's a bunch of trees and basically it goes like this; |||||| | |||||||
Those lines obviously being trees, there's the first row, big gap, loner tree, big gap, row. The very first tree in the second row is where he died. The one I made red.
Every day going to work and coming home, I drive past this tree. And anytime I drive past the tree, I pray for the guy. I pray that him and his family are okay and that they find peace. I don't know his name, I don't know anything about this man except for how he died. But I pray for him two times a day, every day.
I have a headcold. My head's all stuffy, and I'm talking like a stuffed up Darth Vader and I'm coughing a lot.
Tonight at 5:26, I coughed. Immediately after, I heard a man's voice in my head saying, "Rebecca, you need to go home now." And (in my head) I'm like, "No, I'm fine. I need to stay at work." and the man's like "Rebecca, NOW." I need the money, so I ignore it.
At 5:28pm, I cough again. My manager calls me over, and she tells me I need to go home. So I'm like WTF is this bitch in my head. And I tell her that I'm fine. And she said I'm coughing too much to stay, and I need to go. So I'm like, okay, and I leave.
On my way home, as I do every night, as soon as that tree is in my line of sight, I start praying for the man. As I pass it, I can see out of the corner of my eye, a man standing there watching my car. That's not an area where people ever stand. On the other side of those trees is a field that helicopters use to practice landing. So, it isn't really pedestrian friendly. I look in my rear view mirror, and the man is gone. There's absolutely nowhere this man could have gone that quickly.
As soon as my eyes are back on the road, I hear the same man's voice from earlier in my head saying, "You had to leave. You both would have died tonight the way I did." Tonight, I was supposed to be taking Leizel home. That's the way we always go.
I get home and I start to tell my mom the story. Before I get past the point where Lucy sent me home she stops me and says, "You weren't supposed to be on the road tonight. I know. I had a man tell me that to." Neither of us recognized the voice.
I honestly feel that that man was protecting me. I don't know why, because I've never met him. I don't even know his name. But my mom says he must hear me praying for him. I'm not the most religious, and I don't really know how everything works, but holy crap. No pun intended.
This blew my mind. I'm in shock. Thank you, Mr. Whoeveryouare.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Let me tell you bout my BEEEESSSSSFRENNNN
The beginning of my junior year, if you would have told me that I'd become very best friends with this girl (or told her the same about me) we both would have called you batshit insane.But, as things turned out, that's precisely what happened. Let me tell you the story of us.
I first saw her in Geometry. She was across the room from me, and I thought she was a bitch. Then American History came 2nd period and I was like "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME." She annoyed the crap out of me, though I had no logical reason why.
Mid-November 2009, we got assigned a project together and had to exchange numbers. Like two nights later, my brother had concocted some weird story about why she hated him, and insisted that I text her and find out if it was true. The story he told me was so off the wall fucking weird that I just had to find out. So, I texted her.
I remember I was Christmas tree shopping during our first conversation. I was amazed how cool she was.
And basically, the rest has been history. We became inseperable, and we always will be.
Kelsey Jo Potter made Montana worth while. This girl's my best friend. And I'd be sosososo lost without her.
One of these days, I'm going to con her into moving to California and living with me.
I love you Kelsey Jo! You're the bestest :)
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Some things that need addressing.
You know what drives me fucking insane? Quite a few things. Here's some shit that needs to be addressed to the public.
When people ask if I'm high. I don't know if you've noticed the tattoo on my collarbone, but that was done in celebration of my sobriety. My sobriety that I worked my fucking ass off for. That tattoo means a hell of a lot more to me than just some ink in my skin. It's a symbol of the struggle I had to go through to get here. I may have made it look easy, but it truly wasn't at first. Sure, I wasn't physically addicted to the drugs I did, so there was no physical withdrawals. But psychological addiction is just as bad my friends.
Most of you weren't there for the depression. Most of you didn't help me when I was overdosing. Most of you bailed after I got busted, and flat pretended I didn't FUCKING EXIST. Most of the people I'm surrounded by in Fallbrook are a bunch of fake ass CUNTS. people want to tell me I wasn't addicted that bad, so I shouldn't be so proud? No, FUCK YOU.
You weren't there in the beginning when I started popping pills. But yep, there you were, my "best friend" when I had some. As soon as the pills were gone, so were all of my "friends".
But you know who stuck by my side throughout EVERYHING? Rachel Elizabeth Clinefelter. She was there before the drugs. She was there while I was on drugs, and though I pushed her away and was a fucking cunt to her, she still loved me. She was there HELPING me - not sitting back watching and telling me to "just calm down" - when I was overdosing. She was there when I first got busted. She was there through all the depression and the random crying and the night terrors after. She was there for every day I've spent drug free. She was there on my one year sober. And when she tells me she's proud of me, I know she honestly means it.
No one EVER fucking tell me she isn't a good friend because of some silly fights we had in our past. Let's be honest, we were stupid, immature, 15 year old girls. Fighting over boys is what stupid, immature, 15 year old girls do. She was a bitch, I was a bitch. I was a nasty cunt, she was a nasty cunt. We both said things we regretted. And we've both moved on with our lifes. I may not have known her my whole life, but I truly did grow up with her. Rachels my best friend. And if you have a problem with that, I don't give a single fuck. Because not a one of you has been there for me like she has. And don't any of you dare say you have.
My sobriety may not be a big deal to you. And maybe you aren't proud of me. Cool. You're not a significant person in my life. In fact, I've been doing absolutely FANTASTIC ever since I quit you and your silly drama nonsense and lies. Trying to bring me down is sweet of you, really. I'm truly flattered that your life is so painstakingly fucking lame that you have to obsess over the things I do in my life. I'm flattered that even you are aware how much better than you I am. But it's also a little weird. Get a hobby. I hear knitting is all the rage.
Another thing that pisses me off is when ex boyfriends or exhookups brag about things they've done with me in public. I mean brag in public, but I can't think of a better way to word that at 3am. Suck it up.
I don't know why you think it has to be brought up. To be completely honest here, we all make our mistakes. And if I didn't consider you a mistake, you wouldn't be an EX anything. I would still be with you.
I also hate when people take my business and make it public. I do not know why the FUCK any of you thought my life was YOUR business, but let me clear something up for all of you. IT FUCKING ISN'T. IT NEVER WAS AND IT NEVER FUCKING WILL BE. Unless I so choose to involve you, stay the FUCK out of my business.
Brandon, you especially. You're a bullshit excuse for family. Pretend to be all fucking protective and shit and then turn around and stab me in the back the minute you think some random bitch is going to put out. FUCK YOU. Family doesn't do that to each other. So you're not my fucking family anymore. Consider yourself entirely disowned. You're now just someone I used to know. Like I said before, we all make our mistakes. And trusting you and considering you a cousin and a friend was clearly one of mine. Never trust a tweaker.
To the people of Fallbrook who claimed to "miss me OH SO MUCH" while I was in Montana; where did you all go once I moved back?
To the people of Lewistown who claim to miss me now; maybe some of you don't remember the way you treated me while I was there, but I do.
People almost never appreciate you while they have you, it takes you going away for them to realize you mattered.
For those of you who don't know or didn't know me through this time, from 2009 - 2011 I was on again off again engaged to a boy named Chris. Most of you don't know a damn thing about our relationship, other than that he broke my heart. So anytime his name is mentioned, I hear the same old, "he was an asshole anyway!"
No, he wasn't. Christopher James Portelli has always been one of the kindest, most caring people I have ever known. He was not the asshole in our relationship. I was. Sure, we fought a lot. But I started most of those fights. I didn't know how to just fucking be happy. I was scared. I wasn't ready for the risks of forever. I was watching my parents relationship fall apart for half of my relationship with him, and the other half was cleaning up the destruction my stepdad left when him and my mom split. I was scared Chris would do that to me. He had the power to make or break me.
But in the end, I ruined everything. I wont tolerate people calling him an asshole, because none of this was his fault. It was all mine. I loved Chris more than anything. I still love the memory of Chris. I don't know him now, we haven't really talked in a year or so. Of course I miss him. But he's started a new life now. He's happy. And I absolutely will not mess that up for him. No matter how much I miss him, I know he deserves only the best. And I'm not the best for him. And that's the last I'm going to say on that matter.
Goodnight.
When people ask if I'm high. I don't know if you've noticed the tattoo on my collarbone, but that was done in celebration of my sobriety. My sobriety that I worked my fucking ass off for. That tattoo means a hell of a lot more to me than just some ink in my skin. It's a symbol of the struggle I had to go through to get here. I may have made it look easy, but it truly wasn't at first. Sure, I wasn't physically addicted to the drugs I did, so there was no physical withdrawals. But psychological addiction is just as bad my friends.
Most of you weren't there for the depression. Most of you didn't help me when I was overdosing. Most of you bailed after I got busted, and flat pretended I didn't FUCKING EXIST. Most of the people I'm surrounded by in Fallbrook are a bunch of fake ass CUNTS. people want to tell me I wasn't addicted that bad, so I shouldn't be so proud? No, FUCK YOU.
You weren't there in the beginning when I started popping pills. But yep, there you were, my "best friend" when I had some. As soon as the pills were gone, so were all of my "friends".
But you know who stuck by my side throughout EVERYHING? Rachel Elizabeth Clinefelter. She was there before the drugs. She was there while I was on drugs, and though I pushed her away and was a fucking cunt to her, she still loved me. She was there HELPING me - not sitting back watching and telling me to "just calm down" - when I was overdosing. She was there when I first got busted. She was there through all the depression and the random crying and the night terrors after. She was there for every day I've spent drug free. She was there on my one year sober. And when she tells me she's proud of me, I know she honestly means it.
No one EVER fucking tell me she isn't a good friend because of some silly fights we had in our past. Let's be honest, we were stupid, immature, 15 year old girls. Fighting over boys is what stupid, immature, 15 year old girls do. She was a bitch, I was a bitch. I was a nasty cunt, she was a nasty cunt. We both said things we regretted. And we've both moved on with our lifes. I may not have known her my whole life, but I truly did grow up with her. Rachels my best friend. And if you have a problem with that, I don't give a single fuck. Because not a one of you has been there for me like she has. And don't any of you dare say you have.
My sobriety may not be a big deal to you. And maybe you aren't proud of me. Cool. You're not a significant person in my life. In fact, I've been doing absolutely FANTASTIC ever since I quit you and your silly drama nonsense and lies. Trying to bring me down is sweet of you, really. I'm truly flattered that your life is so painstakingly fucking lame that you have to obsess over the things I do in my life. I'm flattered that even you are aware how much better than you I am. But it's also a little weird. Get a hobby. I hear knitting is all the rage.
Another thing that pisses me off is when ex boyfriends or exhookups brag about things they've done with me in public. I mean brag in public, but I can't think of a better way to word that at 3am. Suck it up.
I don't know why you think it has to be brought up. To be completely honest here, we all make our mistakes. And if I didn't consider you a mistake, you wouldn't be an EX anything. I would still be with you.
I also hate when people take my business and make it public. I do not know why the FUCK any of you thought my life was YOUR business, but let me clear something up for all of you. IT FUCKING ISN'T. IT NEVER WAS AND IT NEVER FUCKING WILL BE. Unless I so choose to involve you, stay the FUCK out of my business.
Brandon, you especially. You're a bullshit excuse for family. Pretend to be all fucking protective and shit and then turn around and stab me in the back the minute you think some random bitch is going to put out. FUCK YOU. Family doesn't do that to each other. So you're not my fucking family anymore. Consider yourself entirely disowned. You're now just someone I used to know. Like I said before, we all make our mistakes. And trusting you and considering you a cousin and a friend was clearly one of mine. Never trust a tweaker.
To the people of Fallbrook who claimed to "miss me OH SO MUCH" while I was in Montana; where did you all go once I moved back?
To the people of Lewistown who claim to miss me now; maybe some of you don't remember the way you treated me while I was there, but I do.
People almost never appreciate you while they have you, it takes you going away for them to realize you mattered.
For those of you who don't know or didn't know me through this time, from 2009 - 2011 I was on again off again engaged to a boy named Chris. Most of you don't know a damn thing about our relationship, other than that he broke my heart. So anytime his name is mentioned, I hear the same old, "he was an asshole anyway!"
No, he wasn't. Christopher James Portelli has always been one of the kindest, most caring people I have ever known. He was not the asshole in our relationship. I was. Sure, we fought a lot. But I started most of those fights. I didn't know how to just fucking be happy. I was scared. I wasn't ready for the risks of forever. I was watching my parents relationship fall apart for half of my relationship with him, and the other half was cleaning up the destruction my stepdad left when him and my mom split. I was scared Chris would do that to me. He had the power to make or break me.
But in the end, I ruined everything. I wont tolerate people calling him an asshole, because none of this was his fault. It was all mine. I loved Chris more than anything. I still love the memory of Chris. I don't know him now, we haven't really talked in a year or so. Of course I miss him. But he's started a new life now. He's happy. And I absolutely will not mess that up for him. No matter how much I miss him, I know he deserves only the best. And I'm not the best for him. And that's the last I'm going to say on that matter.
Goodnight.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Sobriety day:)
First off, I decided not to post that really long blog. I typed it all out on my laptop and it felt great todo. I'm not posting it simply because most people won't read it. And there's a lot of personal family problems in there that I don't know if my family would enjoy reading. I know I usually don't care what people think, but this is different. If you'd like to still read it, let me know and I'll email it to you.
Secondly, I GOT A TATTOO MOTHAFUCKASSS! Yesterday or two days ago fuck I dont even know... THE FIRST was my one year sobriety date. Aaannd so I got a tattoo! It says "Just For Today". Which, is the NA slogan. They taught me that if I can get through something just for today, that things will be different in the future. Like, when something bad happens to people they usually focus on the long run. Just for today teaches you to focus on just today. (imagine that.) it helped me with my sobriety and many other things. It truly is something that changed my life. Who would have thought that three words would change my life so much? But it did. And that my dears, is the reason behind the ink.
So yesterday after I got home from getting my tattoo, my mom bought me a cake and it's super cute :) tastes good too.
So anyway here's pictures and stuff. The order is weird and idk how to fix it on my phone.
Secondly, I GOT A TATTOO MOTHAFUCKASSS! Yesterday or two days ago fuck I dont even know... THE FIRST was my one year sobriety date. Aaannd so I got a tattoo! It says "Just For Today". Which, is the NA slogan. They taught me that if I can get through something just for today, that things will be different in the future. Like, when something bad happens to people they usually focus on the long run. Just for today teaches you to focus on just today. (imagine that.) it helped me with my sobriety and many other things. It truly is something that changed my life. Who would have thought that three words would change my life so much? But it did. And that my dears, is the reason behind the ink.
So yesterday after I got home from getting my tattoo, my mom bought me a cake and it's super cute :) tastes good too.
So anyway here's pictures and stuff. The order is weird and idk how to fix it on my phone.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Aint nothin better than a bestfriend.
Theres a truck that we see around town all the time. It's a big old ford F-150 and it has iowa plates, a rubber chicken hanging from the back bumper and no rearview mirror.
Rachel and I have decided that the boy who drives this truck is my soulmate.
Tonight, we left an awesome note on his windshield. (;
Oh yeah. This really happened.
Rachel and I have decided that the boy who drives this truck is my soulmate.
Tonight, we left an awesome note on his windshield. (;
Oh yeah. This really happened.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Avalerian.
Everyone has their good luck charm. For some, it's a lucky sock that helped them in baseball. For others it's a rosary, an old sweater, a certain necklace, a teddy bear, or something else that has brought them luck and comfort over their lifetime. For me, it's a white owl that my mom and I named Avalerian.
As you all know, in the last year and a half, my life has been falling apart. My parents are in the middle of a divorce, my step brothers are 1300 miles away and we no longer talk. I became addicted to drugs, and had quite the battle coming off of them. I lost almost all of my friends when I sobered up. And in July my sister from another mister, Kenzie, was in a horrible accident. My moms life has been quite the roller coaster as well, especially with the divorce.
Sometimes, these things get to us. And we find ourselves praying for a sign that things are going to get better. My mom prays to god, and I personally pray to whatever/whoever is out there and listening. Whenever we ask for a sign, this white owl flies over us and squawks. Most of the time, it literally appears out of thin air and we both will say in unision, "WHERE THE FUCK DID HE COME FROM?!".
Skeptics will say it's just coincidence, but I think it's happened far too many times in the last year and a half to be coincidence. It happens just about very single time my mom and I are asking for a sign. We see him every night, almost. At work, driving home, my grandmas house, my house, the grocery store. Everywhere. No one else I've talked to has ever seen a white owl. And most certainately not as many times as mom and I have. Up until Avalerian came around, I have NEVER IN MY LIFE seen an actual owl. Never. In. My. Life. You guys, I grew up here. White owls or any other color owls aren't regular here. Not even kind of. Never in my life. And now I've been seeing one almost every night when I'm praying, and you want to tell me that's coincidence? No.
For those of you who dont know, Naval Weapons is the part of our military base that has all the underground bunkers full of napalm and bombs and other explosives. Sure there's some wildlife. But never in my life did I EVER see a deer until I moved to Montana. Much like owls, deer aren't very common here. My Montana friends might not understand this, but there really isn't an abundant amount of deer. Seeing a deer on the side of the road isn't a common thing. Like I said, I lived in this town my entire life. And never once saw a deer until I moved to Montana.
In the first couple months following Kenzie's accident, I would randomly see deer on Naval Weapons. But I'd only see one if I was thinking about her. And by thinking I really mean praying. Begging god for a sign of hope. What better animal could he have chosen to represent a sign about Kenzie than a deer? Maybe a horse, but I think God realized I probably would have shat my pants if I came across a horse just chillin on the side of the road.
Then came Kenzie's trip to the hospital in Seattle. Every single night that she was there, I saw a doe in the same place on the side of the road. Every single night coming home, I would see this deer. Ever since Kenzie went back to Montana, I haven't seen a single deer.
Now I have to tell you guys what happened tonight, because my mind is so blown.
Tonight while I was at my grandmas, I got on Facebook. One of the ads on the side said "you, Kenzie Zarn and yaddayaddaotherpeople like this." I don't even remember what it was. But I lurked her facebook page some, and then I logged off the Internet and left. While I was driving home, I had my iPod on shuffle. "Big Green Tractor" by Jason Aldean ended, and then came on "Who You'd Be Today" by Kenny Chesney. That song always makes me cry, so as I was pulling onto my street I was crying. I started praying for her brain to heal faster, cause damn it we all miss her voice. I said it exactly like that too. I pulled into my parking spot and I noticed something white up on my porch out of the corner of my eye. So I get out of my car and I look up, only to see Avalerian perched on the railing. He's just sitting there and he's watching my car. I made eye contact with him and my jaw dropped. He hooted, took flight, did a circle around my apartment, and flew off into the night.
I must've stood there in awe, staring at my porch like an open mouthed idiot for a good two minutes. My heart is still racing.
Ain't no one on this earth gonna tell me that's not a sign.
As you all know, in the last year and a half, my life has been falling apart. My parents are in the middle of a divorce, my step brothers are 1300 miles away and we no longer talk. I became addicted to drugs, and had quite the battle coming off of them. I lost almost all of my friends when I sobered up. And in July my sister from another mister, Kenzie, was in a horrible accident. My moms life has been quite the roller coaster as well, especially with the divorce.
Sometimes, these things get to us. And we find ourselves praying for a sign that things are going to get better. My mom prays to god, and I personally pray to whatever/whoever is out there and listening. Whenever we ask for a sign, this white owl flies over us and squawks. Most of the time, it literally appears out of thin air and we both will say in unision, "WHERE THE FUCK DID HE COME FROM?!".
Skeptics will say it's just coincidence, but I think it's happened far too many times in the last year and a half to be coincidence. It happens just about very single time my mom and I are asking for a sign. We see him every night, almost. At work, driving home, my grandmas house, my house, the grocery store. Everywhere. No one else I've talked to has ever seen a white owl. And most certainately not as many times as mom and I have. Up until Avalerian came around, I have NEVER IN MY LIFE seen an actual owl. Never. In. My. Life. You guys, I grew up here. White owls or any other color owls aren't regular here. Not even kind of. Never in my life. And now I've been seeing one almost every night when I'm praying, and you want to tell me that's coincidence? No.
For those of you who dont know, Naval Weapons is the part of our military base that has all the underground bunkers full of napalm and bombs and other explosives. Sure there's some wildlife. But never in my life did I EVER see a deer until I moved to Montana. Much like owls, deer aren't very common here. My Montana friends might not understand this, but there really isn't an abundant amount of deer. Seeing a deer on the side of the road isn't a common thing. Like I said, I lived in this town my entire life. And never once saw a deer until I moved to Montana.
In the first couple months following Kenzie's accident, I would randomly see deer on Naval Weapons. But I'd only see one if I was thinking about her. And by thinking I really mean praying. Begging god for a sign of hope. What better animal could he have chosen to represent a sign about Kenzie than a deer? Maybe a horse, but I think God realized I probably would have shat my pants if I came across a horse just chillin on the side of the road.
Then came Kenzie's trip to the hospital in Seattle. Every single night that she was there, I saw a doe in the same place on the side of the road. Every single night coming home, I would see this deer. Ever since Kenzie went back to Montana, I haven't seen a single deer.
Now I have to tell you guys what happened tonight, because my mind is so blown.
Tonight while I was at my grandmas, I got on Facebook. One of the ads on the side said "you, Kenzie Zarn and yaddayaddaotherpeople like this." I don't even remember what it was. But I lurked her facebook page some, and then I logged off the Internet and left. While I was driving home, I had my iPod on shuffle. "Big Green Tractor" by Jason Aldean ended, and then came on "Who You'd Be Today" by Kenny Chesney. That song always makes me cry, so as I was pulling onto my street I was crying. I started praying for her brain to heal faster, cause damn it we all miss her voice. I said it exactly like that too. I pulled into my parking spot and I noticed something white up on my porch out of the corner of my eye. So I get out of my car and I look up, only to see Avalerian perched on the railing. He's just sitting there and he's watching my car. I made eye contact with him and my jaw dropped. He hooted, took flight, did a circle around my apartment, and flew off into the night.
I must've stood there in awe, staring at my porch like an open mouthed idiot for a good two minutes. My heart is still racing.
Ain't no one on this earth gonna tell me that's not a sign.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
You're NOT alone.
Today, I watched a documentary on the Golden Gate bridge. It's focus is really on all the suicides of the people who jumped off. The director set up a camera, left it for a year and just recorded. During the opening credits you watch an elderly man jump to his death. It's a VERY powerful movie, and incredibly haunting. No pun intended.
I live about nine hours away from the Golden Gate Bridge. But I live pretty close to the Coronado Bay Bridge. Just last week, someone committed suicide on it. The freeway was shut down, and you know what people were upset about? The death of a human being, who rather they knew it or not was very loved? The death of someones child, grandchild, sibling, parent, loved one?! No. People were worried because they were STUCK IN TRAFFIC. There are people who were recorded on the news saying they were irate because someone "decided to take the easy way out" and because of this they were late to wherever they were trying to go.
How heartless can people be that they're so worried about being a tiny bit inconvenienced, more so than someone jumping to their death? This persons life is OVER. These people have at least one person who loved them. That person's life is forever changed. And people are worried about being LATE?! It's kinda funny when you think about it, because no one is ever this worried about being punctual any other time.
"It is the third deadliest suicide bridge in the USA. Between 1972 and 2000, more than 200 suicides were committed on the bridge. "
This statistic is now twelve years old. The average rate was about seven people per year, if that's kept up at that exact rate, that's eighty six more people. (Roughly, there's decimals.) 282 people have died on that bridge in forty years. Now of course, there could be more, there could be less. I'm having a hard time finding a more recent statistic.
This depresses me so much. It's so sad when I hear about people dying, especially by suicide.
I know what it's like to feel like you have nothing left to live for. I know what it's like to feel that low. I know what it's like to feel so very alone. To feel like it's you by yourself against the whole wide world, and the whole wide world is giving all the fight they've got, and your fight is mediocre at best. I know what it's like. I've been there. I've done that. I've got two attempts under my belt. It isn't my favorite thing to talk about, but I can't deny that it happened. Because I know how it feels, I will never turn someone away if they come to me.
Please, anyone reading this, know that though it may feel like it, you're not alone. There is someone out there who loves you. I love you. Everyone is beautiful and has a right to live. Just take it one day at a time. You can do it, and no matter who you are, I will always be right here to help you along however I can.
Owwwie.
February 1st, 2012 I will be sober for one full year. In honor of this, I decided to write a very long blog about addiction and my personal struggles with it both as someone who was once addicted and someone who loves someone who was once addicted. Tonight I thought it would be a good idea to write it all out by hand. I'm not even half way done and I'm four notebook pages in. My hand is killing me. You all better appreciate this. It'll be posted on the first. Until then, you'll be getting mediocre posts, if any at all. This is taking up all my writing skills for the week. I'm also going to be finishing it via fucking computer so my hand doesn't fall off. Loveloveloveandstuff:)
Date a girl who writes.
I stole this from my sister. Kind of. She emailed it to me. It's all sooooo very true.
Date a girl who writes. She's the one writing random thoughs away, weaving each sentence, phrase and word together to create a masterpiece from the heart.
Date a girl who writes. The girl who can understand the reason why you are who you are because she can think critically, the same girl who can easily forgive you when you fail her and at the end of the day, she still loves you no matter what.
She's always looked for the page-turner, and she chose you which means you must be quite exciting.
The girl who writes is a wonderful story-teller. She'll write about your love, she'll write about you every single day, and of course she'll write to you and make your heart melt with every thing she has to say.
The storyline will never have to end. She will write all the sequels that keep your love breathing. And just so that you remember all the things you love about her, she'll make sure to include prequels and all those in between.
In the fairy tale that is your life together, she will always make you prince charming, and happily ever after is a guarantee.
Date a girl who writes because she understands the value of word choice, and will mean everything she says to you.
Her writing also holds all the heartache she's been through but depite the tears a girl who writes knows how to use the magic of positive scripting.
Date a girl who writes because you will realize that her writing is pushing her to take a great risk of exposing and baring her soul and heart, piece by piece, fragment by fragment, to differing opinions and views.
It might appear difficult to date a girl who writes because of her unpredicitable nature, varied taste, and wide range of experiences that she's exposing herself into, but I'll tell you, she's one of the persons who are easy to be pleased and stimulated. Present to her a bouquet of inexpensive flowers and her blush would be priceless because you bought it with her in mind.
Date a girl who writes because she will be able to recall in detail the dialog between you two, and wihle it gets you in trouble, it's endearing and sweet at the same time that she remembers. This also forces you to choose your words carefully and you will become an expert in diction.
A girl who writes loves all the layers of you, all the deep parts and even the shallow. When you're acting like the villain, she will see the goodness in you. When you are the hero, she'll still secretly admire your flaws. All the depths of you become her big adventure.
She'll write you emails because the laptop is her friend, but prefers to show you how she cares by painstakingly writing you pages upon pages of letters when you two are separated.
Sex is like a dirty, raunchy romantic novel you don't dare read in public.
Date a girl who writes because she will spend her life coming up with a thousand different ways to tell you how incredible you are as she is not fond of repetition. But the words she will wear out are "I love you," because even she knows there is no better substitute for them in the history of writing.
Date a girl who writes because you will be her muse, her inspiration. Without you, she will have writer's block. Or write the greatest tragedy since Cleopatra and Mark Antony. Either way, you are the love she will always write.
Don't lie to her because she knows. She can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice, sense it in your energy field. She pays attention to every detail of your every word and if you're not careful she'll ask the question that strips your lie away and you'll be humiliated. So tell the damn truth.
When something is wrong, you may as well tell her because otherwise she'll jump to the most absurd, most outlandish, most creative but ridiculous possibilities anyone could ever come up with. When the truth comes out and she tells you what she though, you'll remind her she's crazy, and she'll remind you that she knows this and you'll both laugh and hug and go on with life.
If you find out she's upset, don't ask her why, just let her cry until she hands you her most recent writing and goes to stand by the window until you finish reading her most entry. She could never tell you what was wrong with her moth because her soul is in her hands. Once you read that entry, skip back to find the parts about you.
Date a girl who writes, she loves your imperfections. She sees everything in a different light and appreciates every bit of you. Because you as a whole is all that is perfect to her.
A girl who writes can multitask. She can talk, text, blog and tweet all at the same time. Despite the fact that she may look preoccupied, you're the only one who holds her heart.
Date a girl who writes, you deserve all the love in the world and she is more than willing to give that love to you.
And finally, you must date a girl who writes because it is she who will allow you to live forever. She will make sure that you never grow old nor die no disappear. Through her writing, she is the one who ensures your immorality, your permanent mark upon this world
Date a girl who writes. She's the one writing random thoughs away, weaving each sentence, phrase and word together to create a masterpiece from the heart.
Date a girl who writes. The girl who can understand the reason why you are who you are because she can think critically, the same girl who can easily forgive you when you fail her and at the end of the day, she still loves you no matter what.
She's always looked for the page-turner, and she chose you which means you must be quite exciting.
The girl who writes is a wonderful story-teller. She'll write about your love, she'll write about you every single day, and of course she'll write to you and make your heart melt with every thing she has to say.
The storyline will never have to end. She will write all the sequels that keep your love breathing. And just so that you remember all the things you love about her, she'll make sure to include prequels and all those in between.
In the fairy tale that is your life together, she will always make you prince charming, and happily ever after is a guarantee.
Date a girl who writes because she understands the value of word choice, and will mean everything she says to you.
Her writing also holds all the heartache she's been through but depite the tears a girl who writes knows how to use the magic of positive scripting.
Date a girl who writes because you will realize that her writing is pushing her to take a great risk of exposing and baring her soul and heart, piece by piece, fragment by fragment, to differing opinions and views.
It might appear difficult to date a girl who writes because of her unpredicitable nature, varied taste, and wide range of experiences that she's exposing herself into, but I'll tell you, she's one of the persons who are easy to be pleased and stimulated. Present to her a bouquet of inexpensive flowers and her blush would be priceless because you bought it with her in mind.
Date a girl who writes because she will be able to recall in detail the dialog between you two, and wihle it gets you in trouble, it's endearing and sweet at the same time that she remembers. This also forces you to choose your words carefully and you will become an expert in diction.
A girl who writes loves all the layers of you, all the deep parts and even the shallow. When you're acting like the villain, she will see the goodness in you. When you are the hero, she'll still secretly admire your flaws. All the depths of you become her big adventure.
She'll write you emails because the laptop is her friend, but prefers to show you how she cares by painstakingly writing you pages upon pages of letters when you two are separated.
Sex is like a dirty, raunchy romantic novel you don't dare read in public.
Date a girl who writes because she will spend her life coming up with a thousand different ways to tell you how incredible you are as she is not fond of repetition. But the words she will wear out are "I love you," because even she knows there is no better substitute for them in the history of writing.
Date a girl who writes because you will be her muse, her inspiration. Without you, she will have writer's block. Or write the greatest tragedy since Cleopatra and Mark Antony. Either way, you are the love she will always write.
Don't lie to her because she knows. She can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice, sense it in your energy field. She pays attention to every detail of your every word and if you're not careful she'll ask the question that strips your lie away and you'll be humiliated. So tell the damn truth.
When something is wrong, you may as well tell her because otherwise she'll jump to the most absurd, most outlandish, most creative but ridiculous possibilities anyone could ever come up with. When the truth comes out and she tells you what she though, you'll remind her she's crazy, and she'll remind you that she knows this and you'll both laugh and hug and go on with life.
If you find out she's upset, don't ask her why, just let her cry until she hands you her most recent writing and goes to stand by the window until you finish reading her most entry. She could never tell you what was wrong with her moth because her soul is in her hands. Once you read that entry, skip back to find the parts about you.
Date a girl who writes, she loves your imperfections. She sees everything in a different light and appreciates every bit of you. Because you as a whole is all that is perfect to her.
A girl who writes can multitask. She can talk, text, blog and tweet all at the same time. Despite the fact that she may look preoccupied, you're the only one who holds her heart.
Date a girl who writes, you deserve all the love in the world and she is more than willing to give that love to you.
And finally, you must date a girl who writes because it is she who will allow you to live forever. She will make sure that you never grow old nor die no disappear. Through her writing, she is the one who ensures your immorality, your permanent mark upon this world
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