Life's Questions

Why can't life be easier? Why isn't Drake gone? Why does my sister think I only love her when she is buying me something? Why aren't I closer to my friends? Why do I make things complicated? Why can't I love Eli? Why does Tori have to leave a mark? Why can't I just erase their minds? WHY AM I STILL HERE? Why can't I be 18 already? Why are my parents still together? Why does she make them so uncomfortable? Why does my sister try to parent me? Why can't she leave well enough alone? Why do I make conflicting plans? Why do I suddenly have so much drama that I didn't ask for nor can I control? Why can't they understand our love for each other? Why does this have to happen to me?

My Stance on Love

Love...

A simple word, only four letters long.

But it might as well be a black hole. At the same time that two people are blissful in love it's tearing another couple apart. It's so alluring because we believe there's one person out there for everyone and once you find them you just know and it's happily ever after.

But it's not that simple. People fall in and out of love, because it's not true love. True love never leaves. And even if you both really love each other, that's not the only factor in it. There's all your friends, telling you he's not right, you're better than that and you break up with him.

Or maybe there's the intervening parents. Or someone else. Or you just live on separate sides of the globe.

Fact is, there are other factors than your sweet love. And they get in the way. It's fucking hard for two people not only to fall in love, but to stay that way. And no body warns you about it. Because no one can.

But hey, don't throw your hopes out the door just because of me. It is possible to stay in love and have it overcome all obstacles. It's just more common in fairy tales than in real life by a ratio of 23457854720978450978345907834597349057947 to 1.

So good luck.

Just a Moment of Weakness

Life lately has been, interesting.

I've been connecting with a lot of new and old friends. It's interesting the people who are coming in and out of my life. It occurs to me now that I don't feel that close to anyone anymore. The image of the cheerleader who has so many friends but doesn't feel like anyone understands her and is really alone comes to mind, but I'm not quite that girl. Maybe it's just that I'm lonely today, I don't know. That might explain my recent whore attitude. I feel cheap, unworthy. I shouldn't, considering the piles of compliments I've been getting but hey, that's the human brain for you, illogical.

Meh, not a very good day. I hope someone calls me soon to cheer me up.

Note to Self: Don't Make Out With a Smoker

I haven't seen ya'll in a while. Good morning!

It's definitely been a great spring break so far. Beach trips, sleepovers, Portland, and so much more has happened. Yesterday went from good to bad to okay and stayed that way. Mom and Dad didn't notice anything wrong with my appearance thank the gods.

I adore Portland. I don't think I can ever move away from this place. I love California too, but only for trips, not to live in. *shudders at the thought of being around all those creepy movie-types everyday*

Tori surprised me. At first we were having a great time then Elijah pulls me aside in the elevator to make out and Tori is shocked and starts to lecture me on how I like someone else bah blah blah.

Now, these are the facts that Tori is judging on:
It's been a week since I admitted to Colin that I liked him. Even longer since he figured it out. Nothing has happened between us. I'm not going to be loyal to a guy who isn't interested.

Then Tori realizes that Elijah acts a lot like the love of her life, Drake, and decides to make out with him, sit on his lap and pretty much do more than I was doing in the first place. Now you may disagree, but I think that's just a little hypocritical.

Elijah didn't come over last night, but I didn't really expect him to either. Drake is coming back today, so I don't know what's going to happen there. All I know is now that he's back from Cali I'm going to lose sleep again. Little bastard and his evil plots.

So that's all for now. Not a very interesting post. Sorry about that.
Until next time, have a great spring break guys.
Keira

Intentions

It's interesting how things have changed. For instance, I originally made this blog to keep up with a couple friends on here, when I realized no one was going to read mine. There were no comments. There were no followers. I had a blog, and no audience.

So I wrote for myself. I ranted about things I didn't think anyone else would care about simply so I could get them out of my head. It didn't matter what I did or didn't put up or whether it made sense because no one was around for it to make sense to other than me.

Then I was found.

Which is a bit of a feat, let me tell you. I was amazed when I looked and saw that I had a follower. Oh, dear Jessica, how awesome it was that you found me. Then lo and behold, TWO followers. It was a miracle! I had an audience!

It wasn't that I would mind if anyone had found this blog, I always wondered if people were reading it and just not following me (this totally makes you guys sound like stalkers for reading, sorries. It is not my intention). If someone read it, great. I didn't write it for people to read but I didn't care if they did because I doubted anyone did. There was no proof.

Now I have people coming up to me in the hall saying 'I read your latest blog' and people actually COMMENTING on my entries. It makes me happy, but I kind've miss the old one.

Maybe I'll make a new one, just to see how long it takes for people to find. It would be an interesting experiment.

A Quick, if Somewhat Vague, Update

It's interesting.

Life is turning around. Certain friends are making an attempt again. We're becoming closer again. They forgave me.

I'm almost scared about what the events of tomorrow will bring. I've been so lonely lately, so this... feeling for lack of a better term... is a strange one.

Let's hope Valentine's Day bring happiness instead of despair shall we? I hope you have an amazing time.

A Small Truth

Beauty is fleeting.

That's what makes it beautiful. If it is always there, it isn't extraordinary, it isn't gorgeous. It's normal. Beauty comes and goes and some people don't even see it, but it's already gone. They can't find it. it will never be the same ever again.

Every moment is different. It's unique. It'll never happen in just the same way ever again. And within each moment, is a thousand others that run away, just passing through the town for the slightest amount of time before they're gone forever. You'll never see it the same way again, it will never be the same. You can try to capture beauty, but it is just an imitation, it's not the real thing. the real thing doesn't exist, not anymore. It left a long time ago.

So you should treasure the moments you have. And the ones yet to come. Don't cry because it's done and over with. Celebrate that you had it, and what will happen. You can't even imagine it. Hold onto your imitations, for they're the best you have. They hold the memory. You will only be here for a second, only breath that bit of air for a fleeting moment before you're gone. So enjoy it while you have it. And when it is gone, remember. For the imitation that is memory is the best thing you have, and what a glorious thing it is. Because it is so much better than nothing.

A Short Thought

I love the night sky.

The stars shimmering through thin clouds, simply points of light in the dark. But they are gorgeous. The moon, watching over you wherever you are, lighting your path. It watches over the mischievous stars as they spell out their stories. Connect the dots. You'll be amazed at what you see. Past, present, future. All in a smattering of white paint across the canvas.

It's a brand new day, the sun is high, the birds are singing because you're gonna die.

Yesterday was an interesting day.

It started out great. I caught up on the past couple of days of sleep deprivation and the previous night's party. I had cheesecake for breakfast. I made a new friend. I got ready for my cousin Evelina's birthday party. She turned five. We had some delicious pizza and I told people about working at OMSI. They were all happy. I got to see Kathy and Chris Steele for the first time since May. It was fun.

Then mom and I went shopping. By the time we got to the mall, we were exhausted. But we trudged on because I needed pants for when I worked at OMSI the following week. We saw my sister working away at Macy's, and she showed us some stuff on sale. We finally got to the dressing rooms, and the pants weren't working out too well. Then my sister told me something that I didn't know: apparently I'm fat. Apparently the jeans that I was wearing and constantly had to pull up were too small. And the size I thought I was was about 2 sizes too small.

Normally, I'd just blow her off. She was wrong, because I thought I looked fine. It doesn't matter what other people say, as long as you like yourself. Everyone else's opinion is irrelevant when you are happy.

But something got to me. Suddenly I looked in the mirror and I just wanted to cry. My hair waas so ugly. My hips were huge. I looked practically pregnant. My arms were flabby. My face was all broken-out. I felt so self-concious and utterly hideous. All because Sarah told me my pants were too tight when they weren't. If it were anyoen else, I wouldn't have believed them. I thought I was fine. But no, Sarah had to do it. Sarah made me doubt myself, which is something not many can get me to do.

Sarah went back to work. Mom and I finished trying on outfits, and then I avoided looking in the mirror because if I focused on it, I'd be bawling. I had wanted to go to Forever 21 while we waited for Sarah to get off work, but now that I felt huge and their sizes run really small anyway I didn't feel so much like it. Mom dragged me to Eddie Bauer to see if I could find pants there. It was interesting. In every cute pair of pants I found, there seemed to be an 18, a couple of 4's and 6's and then about fifteen 10's. 10 is what I thought my size was. Sarah believed I was a 14. So, I tried them on for the hell of it. I confessed a small part of how self-concious I was feeling to mom earlier and she warned me that Eddie Bauer runs small. I thought she was lying to amke me feel better if the 10's didn't fit. I appreciated it and zipped up the pants to find an astounding thing: they fit. A little snug (Mom wasn't lying) but they fit. I was amazed that I was right.

It was a weird feeling. I'm comfortable with myself. I don't do things that make me self-concious and I don't doubt myself. Soemhow, in a split second all of that had changed with Sarah saying my jeans were too tight. It was so weird to experience that doubt, that feeling that I didn't like how I looked. I was so consumed in it, and almost as fast as she had said those fateful words, I had worn a pair of pants and it was gone.

We got Sarah, went home, and changed our clothes. I rubbed it in Sarah's face that my new pants were 10's and they fit, just to prove her wrong. A little petty, maybe, but hell, it made me feel better. Me and Sarah went to Coraline in 3-D and it was fun. I found out my cousin Chris Steele did the lighting. Afterwards, we were planning to do a double feature, but it was too late and we were too tired. We got out into the lobby about 12:30. Sarah went over to look at the employment application thing and I complained that I wanted to go home. She said she would be fast. I wandered the lobby, bored. I found out Transformers 2 is being released on my birthday. I tried to tell Sarah and she snapped at me. I left her alone. I watched someone play DDR to entertain myself while I waited.

Sarah came in the Arcade yelling. Everyone stared at me. Apparently she had been calling my name and didn't know where I was. Well, great she found me. Was she done yet? No, she had needed to borrow my phone. Did I let her? yes, I didn't want to make any more issues. for that same reason, when she asked I spell-checked the application. By the time we were done, an hour later (the process was supposed to be 30 minutes long), she lectured me about how she needs a second job to help out the family and I can't go out of sight because I can't be trusted on my own because of the course of the summer. I' so tired of having that be an excuse. I've proven myself trustworthy since then over and over but no one sees it.

We finally got home, and I just went into my room and cried. It wasn't the fight, because we had had worse ones. It was just everything. The comments over the course of the day, the arguments, the need for her to get two jobs, losing Thom, abandoning Tori, everything. I just felt so helpless. There was nothing I could do. I finally fell asleep I don't even know what time. The day had been so nice. The sun was out, it was warm, I at pizza and hung out with my wacky cousins. But of course, good things don't last. the day had to end up with me crying myself to sleep at 2 or 3 in the morning.

Reflection of My Unknown Birth

Some people say that in order to know your future, or to know who you are, you have to know your past.

To these people, I respectfully say: "Bullshit, I'm living proof."

For those of you who don't know, I'm adopted. And when you want to know why your mother gave you up at birth when your seven years old, what you're told is a large stretch of the truth. Then when you're ten, you learn something that is contradicting to what you thought, and then eventually you find out the 'real' story. The problem is that you've heard so many stories over the years that they've all melded into this kind of all-consuming, hypocritical truth that's really hard to remember all the parts of. So I honestly have no clue why I was adopted, whether or not my mother loved me, or anything about the family I came from. But I know who I am.

I do know some things. For instance, my birth mother's name. Shannon McGowen. My father was some architect or contractor or something and his name was Moses. No joke. I have a half-brother out there somewhere. My birth-father agreed with whatever Shannon thought was right to do with the baby. Oh, and I was never meant to exist. My mother had some sort of disorder or medication or SOMEthing where she didn't think it was possible to get pregnant. The chance was just low. And she found out I existed a little too late to get rid of me. She wasn't married, and as far as I know wasn't especially wealthy either. She was a drug addict. She kicked the habit, but her sister Moira did not and jumped off a bridge with her boyfriend when I was about eight. I have never had contact with Shannon. I am told she used to visit, but stopped. It was an open adoption and she could come see me anytime, but has not. I do not know why. I do not know why I was given up. I do not know my family's medical history, or where I came from. Yet I know who I am.

I didn't used to know all the not-so-nice details of my family. Those are a recent discovery. One day I was explaining to a friend how I was adopted and answering the usual questions about it when they abruptly said "You know, your mom is going to end up being a druggie or something." You don't really know how much this impacted me then. Because it was possible. She could be, and I didn't know it. I had done up until that point what quite a few adopted and foster kids and people who don't know thier blood family do, I was imagining my life would be perfect if only I hadn't been adopted.

Because shit happens. People complain, but I would always think, "if I weren't adopted, my life would be like this and this" I would be rich. I would have the perfect parents. I wouldn't have this problem or that problem because I wouldn't have this life. It wasn't that I blamed my parents for adopting me and Shannon for giving me up. No, it had just happend, and if it had not, life would be different and different had to be better.

So on that day, Charles made me realize how grateful I was that I was in this life, living with these people. I could've had a worse life. I could've gotten adopted by some jackass who didn't give a shit or beat me or something. It could have been better, but it also could have been worse.

And then, of course. I was curious if she really was a druggie and found out the "real" story. And of course she was. But hearing my mom and sister go on and on about what they think happend made me realize something else. These two people in front of me, they were my mom and my sister. My momma. My Dezzi. Shannon was... Shannon. She was the woman who carried me in her womb for nine months, who went through the pain of having me, the effort of finding the perfect family to give me to and I didn't feel at all close to her. She wasn't my mom. Biologically, yes. But in any other way, no. She was a stranger to me. And I felt guilty, I feel guilty, that I think of her that way. She went through all this effort but I still will not call her my mom. She may love me, but I have no feelings towards her.

And yeah, one day I'd be interested to see who she is. I want to meet the woman who gave me up. But I'm also afraid that she won't want to see me, but tough shit. I mean, there has to be a reason she hasn't contacted me in 15 years. And I don't so much want to meet her, as I want to meet the person she was when she gave me up. I don't want to hear a 15-year thought out justification of why she gave me up. I want to hear the decision made when it was made. bot don't get me wrong, maybe she had a good reason to give me up. Maybe she loved me. But maybe not. So I'm not really sure how I feel on the subject, actually. If she wanted to see me, okay I'll meet her. But if she doesn't take any steps to find me, should I take the steps to find the person who gave me up 15 years ago to listen to the well-planned answers to all of the questions? I want the real story. Is that so selfish?

These sorts of decisions change your life forever

I recently find myself in a predicament. forecasting is going to come up soon, and I'm not sure what classes I should take. Which ones will be too hard? Which ones will help me get into college? Which ones are going to be fun?

The main issue I'm having is whether or not I should try to do the IB diploma.

I've always had trouble with homework. I've almost always had bad grades. It's not because I don't understand it, it's because I don't do my homework. And I don't know why. Every year, I have the same problem, I'm getting straight D's where there should be A's because I haven't done this homework or that project. I'm always sabotaging myself when it comes to my classes and it drives me crazy because I don't know why. Why do I find it so hard to do some homework every night? Why are deadlines so difficult to meet?

It's not that I'm lazy. That would be easy to conquer and too stupid of a reason for me to go on like this. I understand the subjects. Hell, I'm in advanced classes. I'm not dumb. I'm not lazy. I have the time to do the work. Why don't I do it?

I remember at the end of the year last year, Caputo was telling us about his latest social experiment that he had conducted on our class. He was explaining why he didn't give out compliments very often, or ratehr why he never called anyone in the class 'smart'. He would tell his students instead that they were 'hard-workers'. His claim was that kids would do well but once they were told that they were smart then they started to fail. his theory was that kids who were told they were smart suddenly had a whole new pressure put onto them. They had to keep being smart, they had to challenge themselves more and they crumpled under the idea that they were smart. they couldn't handle the pressure of a title as high as that. It's easy to be average, easier to be dumb, but it's hard to be smart. He thought that instead of putting thatpressure on his students, instead he would tell them they worked hard, which was easy to do. It was easy to keep up hard work, but it was just too difficult to be smart.

Now, I know I'm smart. I understand hard concepts easily and I've grown up being put into harder challenges and being told 'You're so lucky you can understand things that others can't even fathom.' Now I'm not blaming my homework sabotage on every single person who thought they were paying me a compliment. The responsibility to do my work is completely my own. I'm the one who watched her none-special-ed sister go to Thomas Edison, a Special Ed school and do better than she did at BHS. I'm the one who watches people get better grades than me who are in average classes.

Now this whole 'smart pressure' thing is only a theory, and it's not the only reason I could not be doing my work. A part of it could be habit, lack of motivation, or I'm just one of those people who likes to eat their cake first and forget the vegetables.

It doesn't really matter what causes it. What matters is how I'm going to get over it. I want to take IB, I've got the capability. I need the IB diploma to get into college, because I'm not going anywhere without a scholarship. I don't want to admit defeat to myself and NOT do IB because I'm afraid I'll flunk out. The homework load is much larger and there are new projects every week. It's getting you ready for the workload in college. The thing is, if I can't handle my homework now, how am I going to handle IB? If I can't handle my homework now, how am I even going to get into college, let alone SURVIVE it?

I don't know what to do. I don't know how I can do this, I don't even know how to start. And if I get to overwhelmed, I'll shut down. Just stop doing any of it. So how am I supposed to balance this out? To get this to work and not fuck up the rest of my life?

SOMEBODY TALK TO ME.

Missed the dance. I was really looking forward to it too. Damn illnesses! turns out I'll miss school tomorrow too, because the doctor just called. Luckily, no mono but I have strep. I'll take some meds and by Wednesday will be fine.

Thom isn't answering his phone. Again. This means one of three things, in order of likelihood:

1) He's ignoring me. I can't think of a reason why.
2) He lost his phone. Unlikely, and if so, I'm screwed with contacting him.
3) He's dead. Fuck.
4) He's sick like me (because he gave it to me) and left his phone in his bag and hasn't gotten to it yet. I actually came up with this before the suicide idea.

The obituaries were sitting on the table this morning. I swore I saw his name when I glanced over them and after double checking it turned out to be a George Pedersons. the name was close enough to make me remember that one day it probably will be that bastard's name in the obits, and I'll be one of many girls who are hanging on to him and crying over his corpse.

There are too many coincidences lately. It's starting to get really strange.

Turns out, Emma and Katie were downtown when me and Thom went. They were at the Powell's, working on some essays. It would have been funny if we headed to Powell's and saw them. It would have been more fun than wandering in the cold yelling at him about bridges. Maybe not. Nothing seems to entertain him anymore. I'm not really sure what I think of that. I mean, he had fun shooting zombies with Steven, he has fun fighting me over a book of pictures (hey if you're reading this, I saw them already, on your mom's flickr. thanks for the link! You were so cute when you were 15. ;D), and he has fun having sex, but when he demands me to entertain him my mind's a blank and anything I try doesn't work. He has fun, but not when I'm the one supplying it.

It wasn't always this way. We had fun just sitting next to each other in silence. Just staring into each other's eyes. It was simpler then, but that's no more. He let me in then, and now he's pushing me away.

I should forget about him. Let him ignore me. Let him go off and kill himself and when I find out I won't care. I should, but I'm not. Ah well. It's a process and in the meantime, he's an interesting friend. One who can outquote me (why do I take pleasure in defeat?). One who can prove anything. One who hates the same people I do, and is hated by some of the same. One whom I've had some great times with, some bad as hell ones too. When you've experienced that with a person, you'll find it hard to say goodbye just like that and never see them again.

It'll be an interesting day to see where I am, exactly 2 years, five months from today.

It's pathetic to keep checking on here when the last person I know who posted anything put it up over a month ago. And he's the one whose on often.

God, I have to stop crying.

You Stink of Lies and Dirty Thighs

Hey yo.

I just was re-watching some of my friend Thomas' old videos on his blog. He hasn't updated in months, not really a blog person I guess. Or he just got bored with it. Ah well.

I just got home from picking out Christmas trees. I didn't do any of the picking. My cousin, Cole, took me out on his ATV and we drove around the land at 60mph until we got low on gas. If you like thrills, I'd suggest getting an ATV, and riding around hills and muddy country where you could topple over pretty easily with the guy who's usually out to kill you. It was pretty scary but really, REALLY fun. It was about 35 degrees up where they live, so with the wind blowing past us, and the mud making us wet and dirty (mostly me), it's surprising we didn't get hypothermia.

Mom was just talking about whether or not she'd get prosecuted for killing Dad.

I'm actually not really looking forward to Christmas, for many reasons. One, Mom and Dad are making me and my sister, Dezzi, feel like a burden for being here, because if we weren't here, they wouldn't feel guilty if they didn't get us anything. Secondly, once the holidays are over, shit is going to be hitting the fan. We're going to be going through everything, selling as much as we can, because we won't be able to fit all of our stuff in a apartment. We're moving. We can't afford to keep the house I've lived in ALL MY LIFE. I was raised here, I just re-did my room, and now we're going to move. We have no other option. I probably shouldn't say 'we,' because Dad isn't coming with us. He and Mom are going to probably get divorced because they can't stand each other anymore. Oh, and we have to sell our dogs, because we have too many.

Can you see why I kind've despise the holidays right now?

Right now I'm rping on my rp site with Sakura. It's kind've cheering me up, although I wish Shiny was on, because I enjoy using Kaiyo more than Kira and Riku. It's funny, when I play Riku, I just think about what Thom would do in that situation.

Which reminds me of the bastard. It's his birthday tomorrow, right? He's turning 18 and all that, and he hates that fact. All the good things about it he could do now if he wanted, and he really dislikes the bad. "14 is pushing it." so, he's going to be out all night, which ruins my plans of going over there. I'm still planning this elaborate maze that I told him about, but I'll use it in about 3 years, because he has the kind of memory that he'd forget all about it by then. If he's still there, that is. I miss his blog updates, I miss talking to The Girls. He's a lot more closed off than he used to be, but part of that is my own fault. Talkign to The Girls helped me understand him more. Kristi told Clara about the trip from this past summer. Yeah, she's pissed because she couldn't believe I'd be that STUPID. yeah, when I see her again, I'll have bruises. I was all excited to see Thom's face when I surprised him at his house, but no, he won't let me. Now I'm just... lonely I guess.

Alright, I have to go now. I have to get started on some christmas gifts.

Psychoanalysis of those I no longer need

I'm just so PISSED. But it's not the normal, hot anger. No, this is cold, this is annoying, this feels empty.

So why, you might ask, am I so pissed?

I have a simple answer, life.

I go over the old conversations, and I see what they were doing now and it pisses me off how blind I was to it, that I only realized it afterward. Yet I still wish to talk to The Girls because they may have made life hell, and I hated them for it, and they were able to manipulate me so simply and play their games with me, and I know it, but I still was entertained by it. I still hate Jess, I'm still careful of Jamee, but I'm curious about their opinions. they were able to give me a perspective that wasn't blinded by my own idiocy. But I digress.

Because that is not the reason of me being so pissed. It is just a simple fact, that I have lived with for months. The real reason I am pissed is just people. In general, the people around me. I think the only two whom I don't despise right now is Emma and Charles. I don't even know what they think of me anymore and it bugs me because of the simple fact that applies to even them, I do not need them.

It seems, in my recent attitude about things, that I do not need anybody. I love many of them, and I would be sad if they died, but if they decided to move or leave or anything, I would still live. Even if they died, I would still live. I used to be so dependant on such a small cluster of people, and now I'm not. I have no reasoning for it. I have no reason for anything. Life, is boring and I just don't care anymore.

But the main reason I feel this anger is HER. My former best friend. She hasn't done anything to cause it, it's just her attitude towards me, her replacement, and the realizations that her actions, or lack there of, have caused.

She wants control. Over everyone and everything. She avoids situations she cannot control
, under the guise that she doesn't want to take any risk to being hurt so deeply again. And maybe that's true, maybe she hates not having control because with control, there is no risk. That is why on Halloween night, she was so worried. So many interactions, so many things going on and she couldn't do a thing if they decided to take a turn for the worse. If I decided to betray her and get Lucas' number. She couldn't stop me. If me and Tamela decided that enough was enough and fought, she couldn't stop us. She worries that we are so similar, that her friends will meet me and see me as a replacement for her, and therefore leave her. She needs them. She needs them to need her, but if I come along, they do not need her anymore because they have a newer model. It was proven once and she refuses to have it be a risk again. She is so insistent that they hate me, to discourage me from hanging around them. But fuck it if they don't like me, they can deal with it, it will not stop me from doing what I want. I used to need her, I used to need Kristi, I used to need Drake, but no longer. I left Kristi because she was immature and pissed me off. So I told her, and she proved it even further. I don't know when it happened, but I don't NEED Drake either. I would prefer to be with him, for I love him like I love many of my friends, but if he finds someone else before I'm 18, then I will move on. I will hurt, yes, I will miss him more than I do now, but I will live.

Unlike him and his dear Tamela.

He still loves her and always will, but he doesn't even realize that it's to
such an extent that even when his heart was crushed, even as angry as he is at her, he still does not want to hurt her, yet he does. He wants her to be tortured, but not, because she is so precious to him. I cannot even try to wish he'd be that devoted to me. Not even when I am 18. He is confused because of the conflict and he only sees the hateful side of it. Before her, he was not suicidal. The day he stops seeing life so negatively, the day he does not wish for the cold kiss of death, will I believe that she is truly on the back burner.

So I will not compete, I will not give up either. I will simply enjoy what I have while I can as I count the days to my birthday 2 1/2 years from now, hoping that he doesn't find anyone else, and hoping that he finds reason enough to live until then.

Charles is one I love dearly. I only wish the best for him, as I simultaneously idolize him. I do not wish to be romantically involved with him, for I am not attracted to him in that way. But I love him like I've loved few before.

Emma I also love. I hope the best for her. She is the closest to me actually needing her because she is the one who makes me happy with simply her presence.

And then there's Tori. She pisses me off, and Drake was right. I wouldn't describe her as a bitch, but like Kristi, I have realized something about her and I cannot stand it. I will deal with her n a less brutal way than Kristi because even if she deserved brutal, I do not want to leave her torn for HIM to pick up the pieces and confide to. I will simply just not take any action to contact her, and if we do spend time together, I'll insist Lukie comes along as well and I will talk to him, I will enjoy his company before letting him be what apparently I cannot.

I give it at least a month before she even thinks about calling me. I'll give it 2 1/2 years for Drake, and for everyone else, until I am needed.

That's all for now, my dear nonexistent readers. That is my long and bitchy rant. I will post again when I need to. Bye bye.

So, I figured I'd post some of my photos that I'm considering entering into this sort of contest. And also for future reference so I can remember which ones I narrowed it down to.

Why Is The World Such A Cruel Place?

So, not fun times.

My dog, Toby, just had a surgery for his busted knee tendons and I can't look think about him without crying. I don't know why. I just do. I can't stand how he looks so sad. And he's going to be in a cast like this for 6 months.

So last night, after I had just had to let him outside because I didn't know when Mom and Sarah were going to be home and he'd been in the crate all day. Afterwards, I call them and they actually answer. Dear ol' sis asks why I sound so upset. I respond that I'm crying because of the dog. She doesn't get it. But, unlike MY OWN MOTHER, she doesn't laugh at me, she instead grins and calls me really pathetic. They'll be home in 5 minutes.

So Grandma, who was how I got home, leaves, knowing I'll be okay to be home alone for five minutes until they get back.

When they get home they scold me for crying and call me useless and pathetic a few more times. I feel like crying all over again so I go to my room and call Tom, because Tori and I are having a fight.

now, I'm not sure if any of you can get the bond that me and Tori have. We're soulmates minus the romance. We're best friends. We're brain twins. And now she has these two new close friends, Lucas and Sara--Lurah. The way she talks about them, and the fact that Sara is so like me, I'm feeling replaced. Which is not good, because I have abandonment issues. So I stew with it for a while, and when I tell Tori about it, whom I expect to understand and make me feel better and assure me it's not true and everything she does when I'm feeling down about anything, but no. She tells me because she doesn't know why I feel this way (hmmm, I THINK IT'S BECAUSE YOU ACT LIEK HE'S MORE IMPORTANT THAN ME, THAT YOU LOVE HIM MORE), she can't do anything about it. And that's the end of the story. She acts as if she doesn't CARE. I can see why Tom left all of them. The closest thing I can think of to describe it is:

Emma, if Katie had found someone and was becoming closer to that person than you, and used your inside jokes with them, and was generally REPLACING you, and then when you told her how it made you feel, she just didn't care, what would you do? That's kind've what I'm going through.

So then, today. Dad is telling me that because he's giving me rides everywhere (which he isn't, grandma is) that I have to clean the kitchen, put away the groceries, get ready etc. I say that's fine, I'll get to it right away. Then he tells me I have to let Toby outside. I explain to him how that turns me into as mother implied "a useless pathetic crying ball." He starts getting really mad that I'm not pulling my weight and everyone else is trying and how I have to tough it out and he doesn't care if I'm a crying useless ball. Then he leaves to catch his bus because he's going to be late.

I mean, really? I'm doing all the chores? Can't SARAH let the dog out and carry him around until he goes?

We all thought that once he got a job he'd do better. Be Daddy again. Stop being so angry all the time. But now that he has a job, no, two jobs, he's worse of a bastard than he ever was before.

I really just can't handle anything anymore. Too much is going on at once. I can't wait until the great big party that will be tonight starts so I can have some sort of fun.

A Day On the Other Side of The Rainbow

So, fun day.

I got to skip being a model and my homework, to go watch a movie with Dezzi. Nick And Norah's Infinite Playlist is amazing. OH GOD THE GUM. THE RECORDING OF THE ORGASM. OH OH GOD.

Yeah, so I suggest it to anyone who reads this (which is no one...). It didn't matter that I had already seen it with Tori (and we got everyone in the theatre to think we were together, it's hard to explain), it was a good enough movie to see it twice, especially with my sister. And then we had to pick up my mom afterwards and she said she'd be out in 5 minutes. In my mother lingo, that means 20 minutes. So, even though I don't even have my permit yet and it was completely illegal, Dezzi let me drive around the parking lot. I was giddy, she was freaking and I had her hand on the wheel the whole time. Then, after we'd gone five feet, Mom called asking where we were. We said we were down the street and we'd drive up in a second. She saw us switch seats and completely knew what had happened. Dezzi and I were all like "Crap, don't smile don't smile" as we were telling her we didn't know what she was talking about. She just told us we were bad girls and laughed. I doubt I'd ever get off that easy if she had any inclination that we were on a road, or if I actually had my foot on the gas pedal and if Dezzi hadn't had complete control.

So yeah, fun day.

But BEFORE school ended, I fell asleep in most my classes, had a fire drill, couldn't find Emmy, and I had to swallow my pride and write a Twilight Fanfic for my friend to cheer her up. It worked wonderfully even though I had to go against all my morals as a writer.

And tomorrow I get to be a model for a political statement on abortion. Whoo.

WHY DOES ALL MY MUSIC SUDDENLY SUCK???

Shouldn't A Zombie Not Feel Any Stinging?

So zombie parade was GREAT. All my friends minus Tori and Lurah showed up and it was AMAZING. I was a zombie bride. My train kept getting ripped up and I swear I was trailing that thing for two blocks because of it. Emma kept carrying it and then stuffing it down my skirt.

Also, I got home, was in the shower for an hour in a half using everything at hand to get my makeup off. I didn't look in a mirror before I went to bed. I woke up to find dark, sunken eyes and blood stains coming down my face. Exfoliated twice, rinsed, scrubbed, and did all sorts of crap to get it off. Although I was kind've tempted to go to school like that, I decided not to. I was too tired to deal with people asking everything and it wasn't nearly as great as it was before. In the end my face was really dry and I put some moisturizer stuff on it and GOD DID THAT STING. So I was in pain for half a day because I literally scrubbed my face raw, and then stuck some "envigorating" tee tree oil stuff in it. This stuff tingles when you're face isn't raw. IT STINGS WHEN IT IS.

And then I'm in Japanese and I scratch at my neck and my fingers come back white. I STILL HAVE MAKEUP TO GET OFF WTF NOOOOOOO.

And so, I loved the Zombie Parade (especially when I went afterwards to The Roxy with Chahles and people stared. I think we scared a couple of kids on the max home), and the dance was amazing, but the makeup was a bitch.

Oh also, I actually DREAMT about zombies. It had influenced me enough to do that. This just cracks me up.

Dances and Zombies. Nice Mix.

Why is it that every dance Tori and I go to has a Drake look-alike? And why does she always point it out?

Other than that little tidbit, which completely divided my attention and was ANNOYING, the dance was a lot of fun. I got to hang out with D'say and Panda and Tori even agreed that he was sexy, although she didn't like his manner because he kept ogling her. Now let's see, Tori's a D-cup and had a dramatically low cut dress AND she was grinding with a girl. What guy in that room WASN'T staring at us? She even said it was her GOAL to make as many guys as she could in the crowd get hard-ons. And then she's upset that Panda kept looking at her. This girl is so hypocritical.

So other than that, WHOO ZOMBIE PARADE. I have no idea HOW to do my make-up, and Dezzi was supposed to help me but she has to work so Dad and I have to fend for ourselves. GREAT.

I also have to figure out what I'm going to be for halloween. None of my old costumes work, because they all look like crap. So I maygo buy a V for Vendetta mask and be Anonymous, or just trade clothes with Emmy.

Ah well, I'll figure it out later. Ta ta!

A little dose of me and my creativity

So I was in class the other day and our teacher was discussing
the baby elephant at the zoo that was rejected by it's mother but they've reunited the two and it's all heartbreakingly sweet. Then he asked us to write about it after saying the following: "You don't have any idea what it's like to have the person who gave you birth just say 'Eh' and desert you, do you? Can you even imagine what that elephant would be feeling? Can you imagine what it's like to feel like your mother just left you?"

So here was my response:
"Actually I do. It's not hard, really. I can't remember the day it happened or anything but I can still feel the effect it has. Can you imagine what it's like to be raised by people whom you consider to be your parents, but to feel the guilt of thinking of them that way because they're not really. They picked you out on a shelf, the perfect child, to replace the broken one they lost.

And you are the perfect child. Never arguing, never getting into drugs, even when you were a baby you barely ever cried. You're easy. So when you make it hard they disown you as the person they knew. Now they have a stranger sitting in a stolen chair. Replacing the one that was supposed to be there.

That's all you are, a replacement. To everyone. Something to pass the time until you hurt them, until you lose their interest or maybe just until they find someone else. None of them really care about you. They just act that way to e polite, to get you to stick around so they can use you some more. Liars, all of them."

And that's as far as I got. Obviously, I have some abandonment issues, but it seems as though most of my closest friends have the same problem. Weird. It must be something in the water.

So in other news, homecoming is coming up next weekend, and I'm actually able to take someone who doesn't go to the school. Yay! It's gonna be fun. The hard part is, deciding between the two dresses that mom bought in addition to the new coat. We're taking whatever dress I'm not wearing back (because we're poor and can't afford to keep both, despite Dad's delusions), but I CAN'T PICK. I'm very indecisive.

I'm actually feeling quite guilty. Mom shouldn't have spent that money, she should have just let me wear something I had. Ugh. I hate my emotions sometimes. I'm always guilty of something, it seems.

Ah, well, I may post pictures later of the dress and my date and me and all those cutesy pictures that everyone hates. Ta-ta for now.

Short and Not-So-Sweet

So lots of issues that I'm not going into.

I suddenly have this feeling that Tom's attempted again and I am freaking a bit. If I'm right, I'm going to so fucking kill that bastard.

Other than that, I just got over an anxiety attack. Fun stuff.

I CAN BRING PEOPLE WHO DON'T GO TO MY SCHOOL TO HOMECOMING. YES! And my cousin is insisting I bring him as well, with a bunch of his friends. *sigh* The obligations of him. Plus, he wants me to set him up. EW.

So, I'm keeping it short because I'm exhausted, my face hurts from all the salty goodness that's been pouring down my face today, and I still need to call my best friend and do homework. So until next time, bye bye.

Oh, just a side note: I HATE BIOLOGY. ;D

Nightmares are the work of dreams gone horribly, horribly wrong

I'm not supposed to be here, but I am. This blogging thing is addictive as hell.

So, I love my giant window. It allows the full moon to illuminate my bedroom to the point that it appears to be the middle of the day at 3 am. Utterly gorgeous sight. The only way it could've been better would be if there were stars out, but no, the moon is lonely at night. The stars have been chased away by the streetlamps.

Another good thing about the moon, it's chased away the nightmare.

I kept having this dream that Tom is finally successful in his idiotic suicide attempts. As if that's not bad enough, that night a guy (who looks kind've like Tom, but it's dark and hard to tell) comes through my window. I think it is Tom and I'm crying out of sheer joy that he's not dead. I'm utterly ecstatic that he's alive. So he comes in, sits on the bed with me and pulls out something from his pocket. Sometimes it's a shard of glass, and sometimes it's a razor. I'm confused but he's smiling like a madman and pins me on the bed and starts cutting me. I'm screaming and crying but no one can hear me and he just keeps cutting and cutting. He's still grinning and even laughs a few times while I'm screaming.

And it goes on like that for a while until I freak myself out enough to wake up. Then I spend a few hours staring at my window and trying to calm myself down. One time I must've fallen asleep because I dreamt that Tori came over, climbed through the window and comforted me until I was asleep. And of course, Dezzi walks in while Tori is there, quiet as a mouse and when I'm screaming everyone's asleep. But that's dreams for you, illogical.

It makes me wonder what would happen if I had the dream and then woke up and Tom was actually there.

Well class is almost over, off to lunch!

For once a post that's not 4 million miles long

I WANT THIS FOR THE ZOMBIE PARADE. DAMN MY LACK OF MONEY.

http://www.threadless.com/product/324/Of_The_Dead

Oh god, oh god, we're all gonna die.

So my day wrapped up into three words. Shitty. As. Hell. Well, I suppose you could also call it 'interesting.' (To all the firefly/Serenity fans out there who just got that reference. I'm a fellow geek and I adore you.)

First, I thought it was an even day when it was an odd day so I brought all the wrong stuff to school. I had a test in Japanese that I couldn't study for because I didn't have my notes. I had Biology, where the power went out and the microscopes didn't work and he still expected us to finish the lab. I embarrassed myself constantly with my lack of skills in remembering people's names. And then after school I had to rush around and do four things at once and spend time with Brandy, of all people. And all of this was accomplished on two hours of sleep due to nightmares and insomnia. The result was me acting spazzy and ADD all day and singing songs at the top of my lungs, and trust me, I am NOT a good singer. The fact that today I thought I actually didn't do so bad just proves how much I need sleep or a lazy-eyed midget to hit me with a pink hammer until my hearing returns.

But the highlight of my day is that I got actual spaghetti for dinner and Dezzi and I watched 'How I Met Your Mother' and listened to a song that reminds her of me. Great stuff.

I'm going to kill something for my lack of money and dresses. Preferably, the school because they won't let me take a student to homecoming who doesn't go to our school. BOO. Pretty much the verdict for an outfit for homecoming is between this aqua dress that used to be my mom's and in my opinion looks awful on me, my cotton black dress with gray jeans underneath (because, as I learned at the Twilight Party, if I do any dancing in that dress without pants on underneath, I flash my panties to everyone. Thank you Towi for dancing behind me the whole time) or a pair of gray dress slacks that mom bought me for a job interview at OMSI that need to be hemmed and a pretty striped purple top. Yay for purple!

If it wasn't a school dance and I wouldn't look like an idiot, I'd probably let Emma dress me, which would mean I'd be a slutty rainbow. This is one of my backups for Halloween, however.

And on the topic of fashion, me and Kisti discussed the best and cheapest way to dress up as a zombie. The bad thing is that it will be FREEZING COLD IN RIPPED CLOTHES. I definitely need to go to the Zombie Parade downtown. With any luck, Katie will tag along because it would be like heaven for her. So my schedule for that week is Hawthorne shopping, Homecoming, Zombie Parade, school, school, school, school, Trick or Treating/Escape Party with Nick. It's gonna be great.

YAY FOR FULL MOONS BECAUSE THEY'RE GORGEOUS.

I really gotta work on making my posts shorter. I just ramble on and on and on and on and on...

First Impressions

So here's my first entry. I always think too much about these things because this will determine your entire idea of who I am. My math teacher on our first day puked outside and then gave us a lecture on first impressions and how they're almost always wrong because he won't puke every time we have class. I'm always wondering about impressions and what we think of other people and what they think of us and the judgments involved in all of it lately. I blame my Literary Seminar class (not to be confused with the three other Lit. classes I'm taking) because right now that's what we're discussing. It makes me wonder what our big project is going to be this time. Maybe something about what our perfect religion would include. Hmm, let's see. How about a religion that has no god, everything is the product of random chance, you live for each day and everyone believes that in an ideal world humanity wouldn't exist. Oh wait, that's Chahles' entire philosophy and if it were a religion you'd get nutcases that would kill everyone to create this 'ideal world'. Oh well.

I think I'm going to take my camera to school tomorrow, and take pictures of everyone by surprise. The only problem with that whole 'catch them by surprise' thing, is that the pictures are usually blurry. I need a new camera, but I'm broke and can't get a job so I can't afford one. And we're not having christmas this year so that's out.

So this is probably pretty unusual for a first post, huh? Usually someone would introduce themselves, talk about their lives and their interests, but that requires too much thinking and I'd be sitting in front of this computer for 4 days trying to create the perfect first post without somehow bringing up a demon into the computer that wants to love me and kill everyone else and then Buffy has to come and save the day, as per usual (Dezzi has got me watching the entire 'Buffy The Vampire Slayer' series from beginning to end). So screw that I'll start in the middle, as if I've had this blog for a while and I'm perfectly comfortable. It's a possibility that I'll post all that information about interests and hobbies and my life later, but I'm not giving any guarantees. Most of the people who read this will be my friends and they already know me. And if you want to know me, then ask and I may respond.

I got a really scary email earlier. It was from this girl Jess, giving me part of a song she wrote. It's all about the pain she's in because I stole him from her and how she wished I would disappear. It freaked me out because I instantly thought it was from 'Jess' as in 'Jess and Jamee' (Or if you're Shortie, Tom's Team Rocket). Freaked me the hell out. Then I double-checked the email address and it was from Jess from my Literary Magazine class and the song was a work of coincidental fiction that we had to write for class. Mine was about beatings and suicide and somehow had a happy ending. It's to the tune of 'An Irish Lullaby.'

And so there's my first post. I'm off to call Buffy to save the day now, just in case I have created an evil demon within this blog.

Oh, and Team Rocket Jess? Don't get any brilliant ideas about sending me emails with songs that should freak me out.