Still Alive

It's been quite some time since I last posted on here. If I say that I've been too busy, I'd be lying. If I say that nothing of interest has come up, I'd again be lying. In the past, I've written as a form of release. I usually feel so much better to get things off my chest. But as of late, it only makes me feel more vulnerable. It's hard to admit when I've done wrong. However, I find it much worse to have a nagging sensation that I have done wrong, but have no feelings of guilt.

Since I stopped posting, I have hurt more than one person that I've cared dearly about. One who is miles away, and one that has been the closest to me for two years. One who refuses to keep our closeness because he can't deal with all that has went on, and one who won't let me forget that he is still here for me through anything that could possibly come my way. Both, I care for tremendously. But I do not feel that I am meant for either by this point.

I was caught by surprise. I was caught be someone I would have least expected. Someone I would have laughed about if the mere thought of him would have been brought up beforehand. People have tried to make me feel guilty about it. I don't half blame them, especially under the circumstances. But what am I to feel so horrid for? For being happy? I am not in the least bit saying that he has made everything better. I'm not saying that I could not have went on without him at the time. But why choose to keep yourself from something or someone that makes you happy? Sure, there could have been others that happened along. But why should I have to wait for them? To make others happy? I do not mean to come off as selfish, but sometimes, a person does have to make his/herself happy first.

And I make him happy as well. He has revealed a side of himself that I never even knew existed. A side of him that I don't think many people know of. I have seen how horrid he has been in the past firsthand. And if I can forgive him for it, that is all that really matters.

I don't mean to try and explain myself on here. I shouldn't have to. But even if I were to try with all I have to explain how I'm feeling about it all; how it effects me, how it has effected others, I wouldn't come close to expressing the thoughts and emotions inside of me.

So, I give.
Deal or move on.
Some have already made this decision...and it truly hurts.

More Confusion and Old Friends

It seems that every time I get over one issue, another one develops. I am sure this seems to be the case with most people. It is almost humorous.

There is really no point going into detail about my most recent downer. I am one of countless that have dealt with it in the past. And I am sure that it will come into play in the future as well.

I hate to say it, but people SUCK, for lack of a better word. They can be so dissappointing. You think you know what is going on in their heads, only to be thrown for a loop before you can even see it coming. And after this, you still have NO idea what is going on. At least, I don't.

It's ridiculous. If I knew what in the world was going on, I would have an idea of where to go from here. Do I look past it? Move on from here? Really, this is LAME. And I am sick of being kept guessing.

Despite all of my confusion, I am the happiest I have been in quite some time...minus the fact that a certain boy has become busy and doesn't have as much time to make me smile at random moments throughout the day. But what can be done about it?

I swear, life would be so much easier if I just decided to be a whore. Well, if I could look past the possibility of pregnancy by an unknown number of random guys and the chance of contracting who knows what from who knows who. Fact.

All in all, today was a GREAT day though. Central Christian with Kevin Dodson and Justin. Then, we went to Steak and Shake and ended the afternoon with the Halloween store. Goshhhhh, I hadn't hung out with Kevin in AGES. Note to self, STOP LOSING TOUCH WITH THE COOLEST PEOPLE I KNOW. That should be a give in. I should spend more time with people like Kevin. God loving, laid back, silly people. I still remember playing Gertie in Oklahoma with him. I remember thinking to myself, "YESSS!!! Kevin and not David!" Haha, David was over a foot taller than me. And, he was also the first to introduce me to Cranium. Can't beat that. He let me swim in his pool when I had the worst case of poison ivy I've ever seen. All that I'm missing now is the ENTIRE rest of the bunch that had to graduate before me. Maybe I should try being friends with more people my age. They'll stick around longer. Blehhhh.

Homecoming Deux and Trois

Ohhhh goodness. I am unsure of where to start with this post. I realize I have been slacking a bit as of late.

Thursday, I surprised Justin with a Homecoming of his own! He had mentioned a few times that he wished he still had homecomings and how he had so much fun at mine last year. So, I put his very own together. I cooked; we ate. We watched Beauty and the Beast. We danced. It was only one of countless amazing ideas.

Saturday I attended Carlyle's homecoming. My date was a kid by the name of Ian. He was quiet as heck, but opened up as the night drew on. Jackie is one of my bestiesss which made the entire weekend fantabulous. Her friends were a lot of fun, and I can't wait to hang out with them all again. It was her idea that I come in the first place. I'm glad I decided to.

This is a very general post because I've waited so long to try and type it up. So, maybe I'll add more detail in later :)

Prologue to Another Neverending "I'm Done" Rant

I'm unaware of why I let things get to me so badly at times. I have tried to blame it on the fact that I am a girl. Females are supposed to be more sensitive, correct? I don't really believe this. Guys are usually just more prone to hiding their feelings or covering them up.

I keep telling myself that I'm extra irritable because of the lack of sleep as of late. This is another excuse. Yesterday, I indulged in a five and a half hour nap in the middle of the afternoon, and today I went for a three hour nap immediately after school. I'm not neccessarily physically tired. At least, not any more so than usual. It's centralized mentally and emotionally as "lame" as that sounds. I have a habit of allowing myself to be weighed down by unneccessary stresses.

Is this stress unneccessary though? Some of it, yes. The rest, it can be disputed. But for myself, I feel it is rightly justified. It's unfortunate, but it's a hang up of mine. People get upset over the must ridiculous things at times. I often find myself contemplating whether or not that is me. Do I blow things out of proportion? For awhile, I tried to convince myself of just that. But I no longer hold this belief. This stress and frustration is deeply rooted and within reason.

Funny how I already know that he will try to downplay my feelings and try to convince me I'm overexaggerating. Silly me. He must know me better than I know myself.

Gangsta Dance Over the Rainbow

I have yet to write about Homecoming number one for various reasons. However, you'll hear about them in another blog. Ohhh...yes, it's going to be a good one. You can count on it.

Kent was decked out in a pinstriped suit. It was sharp :) Haha. His mom is great at pickout out flowers. It was by far the prettiest corsage I've ever recieved. Now, it's chillin' in the fridge. No, that's not meant to be taken as a joke.

I met some rather animated and colorful friends of Kent's early in the night. Shrimp and spinach salad at Applebees. Mmmm! Haha. His mom and grandma came inside to make all three couples take pictures in the midst of a packed, chaotic prehomecoming evening at the resturaunt. It was humorous to say the least :) However, it wasn't quite as entertaining as the Homecoming theme. "Follow the Yellow Brick Road."

The gym was so stinkin' hot! Before long, I started looking around, and people were stripping in the middle of the floor. It was great. No race wars broke out like I had expected. The school has had people arrested every day for the past week over these "racial scuffles" that have been taking place on campus. However, none of the fights have been over race. Funny how "nigger" is perfectly fine to say in everyday conversation when people are getting along, but as soon as an argument breaks out, the mention of it automatically turns it into a race based issue. As a sidenote, the homecoming king was white and the queen was black :) They had their slow dance to "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." Hahaha.

Kent knows all these gangsta dances. It was great. He's going to teach me sometime soon. Haha, Jackie and I are going to do them all at her Homecoming this weekend. I mean that in all seriousness. It's only 'cause we rock. Duh.

Afterwards, we headed to his friend Ranzie's house. She's a fun girl. Most of the people there were friends of Kent's from church, so I had met most of them already. We ate pizza and donuts. Yes, quite the combo :) People played pool and on the Xbox. Lots of music, lots of clean fun. The best kind. It reminded me of all my FCC get togethers. Haha, tons of Ultimate Pictionary and Ultimate Frisbee. Mmm...I miss kids.

But, I suppose I'll get over it. I'll be missing tons more by the end of December. However, the move will help me out a ton in the long run. I need to get away from a lot that's been weighing me down around here. Hmm....things could be tons better if Homecoming were every night.

"Walk it out" erryyyy night. mmmmm!

And her name IS Hannah

Done period.

And her name WAS Megan

Done beating myself up over it.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

Kent brought me a Homecoming shirt last night. The theme this year is "Follow the Yellow Brick Road." Haha, I'm not sure I've ever heard of a high school coming up with something like that. We always did Black and White Affair, A Walk to Remember, Hollywood Red Carpet...you know, normal themes. Haha. Oh well. I LOVE the shirt :)

Two more days till Homecoming number one with Kent.

Another Year Older

Nineteen has to be one of the lamest birthdays ever. What's the point? I'm already old enough to smoke, gamble, and look at pornography. And drinking doesn't legally come until 21. Well, at least I can get into Club Sin as of today :)

Classes weren't bad today. And afterwards, I made my way to the lake. It was so incredibly nice outside. The sand was hot enough to send us running toward the water. It was warm enough to keep the water from being freezing. And there was the perfect breeze coming off the water. The seagulls were trekking along the sand and flapping away wildly whenever we drew too near. It was great. I love the beach. I should go more often.

My grandma bought me Jumanji. We watched it after we got back from the beach. It rocked. I invite anyone and everyone to come over and watch it with me sometime. I could never get tired of it!

As lame as Myspace can be at times, it brightened my day a bit more. Getting happy birthdays from the besties was pretty much a given. But, getting it from people I didn't really think cared as much was really nice. In fact, a few people waited up to text me Happy Birthday right at midnight. A couple of them happened to be people I hadn't talked to in quite some time that remembered on their own, and a new friend that I didn't figure would remember it let alone stay up for it. It was really nice.

Old friends coming from out of the past can be one of the greatest things ever. I can think of a minimum of five that have appeared again within the past week and a half. It's exciting. It's almost like discovering new besties all over again. Twice the fun for the same people. I just hope they choose to stick around this time.

Anywho, I'm going to go lie down. I think I've come down with a cold. Itchy throat and stuffy nose. It's lame. But oh well. I'm pretty happy with my day. You should have stopped by. It would have been great to talk. More so just to hear your voice. One day, I'll learn to share without resentment.

Baptists and People Watching

Oh, I love me some Jesus! Kent invited me to Logan Street Baptist today, and I ended up enjoying myself a lot more than I expected. I am nondenominational, but I felt very at home there. I think I may try it out a few more times and maybe decide to stay for awhile. However, I tend to be extremely picky when choosing a home church. I want to be spiritually moved while attending. I don't opt to go to just hang out or to find a place that I'm merely content.

Waiting around before church:


I came home to this bulletin posted by a fellow Sociology classmate (I'll highlight it so that you can choose to skip over it if you so desire to):


There was a certain Professor of Religion named Dr.Christianson, astudious man who taught at a small college in the western UnitedStates.Dr. Christianson taught the required survey course in Christianity atthis particular institution. Every student was required to take thiscourse his or her freshman year, regardless of his or her major.Although Dr. Christianson tried hard to communicate the essence ofthe gospel in his class, he found that most of his students looked uponthe course as nothing but required drudgery. Despitehis best efforts, most students refused to take Christianity seriously.his year, Dr. Christianson had a special student named Steve.Steve was only a freshman, but was studying with the intentof going onto seminary for the ministry. Steve was popular, he was wellliked, and he was an imposing physical specimen. He was now thestarting center on the school football team, and was the best student intheprofessor's class.One day, Dr. Christianson asked Steve to stayafter class so he could talk with him. "How many push-ups can you do?"Steve said, "I do about 200 every night.""200? That's pretty good, Steve," Dr Christiansonsaid. "Do you think you could do 300?"Steve replied, "I don't know... I've never done300 at a time.""Do you think you could?" again asked Dr.Christianson."Well, I can try," said Steve."Can you do 300 in sets of 10? I have a class project in mind and Ineed you to do about 300 push-ups in sets of ten for this to work. Canyou do it? I need you to tell me you can do it," said the professor.Steve said, "Well... I think I can...yeah, I can do it."Dr. Christianson said, "Good. I need you to do this on Friday. Letmeexplain what I have in mind."Friday came and Steve got to class early and sat in the front of theroom. When class started, the professor pulled out a big box ofdonuts.No, these weren't the normal kinds of donuts, they were the extrafancyBIG kind, with cream centers and frosting swirls.Everyone was pretty excited it was Friday, the last class of theday,and they were going to get an early start on the weekend with apartyinDr. Christianson's class.Dr. Christianson went to the first girl in the first row and asked,"Cynthia, do you want to have one of these donuts?"Cynthia said, "Yes."Dr. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked, "Steve, would you doten push-ups so that Cynthia can have a donut?""Sure." Steve jumped down from his desk to do a quick ten. Then Steveagain sat in his desk. Dr. Christianson put a donut on Cynthia'sdeskDr. Christianson then went to Joe, the next person, and asked,"Joe, do you want a donut?"Joe said, "Yes." Dr. Christianson asked, "Steve would you doten push-ups so Joe can have a donut?"Steve did ten push-ups, Joe got a donut. And so it went, down thefirstaisle, Steve did ten pushups for every person before they got theirdonut.Walking down the second aisle, Dr Christianson came to Scott. Scottwason the basketball team, and in as good condition as Steve. He wasverypopular andnever lacking for female companionship.When the professor asked, "Scott do you want a donut?"Scott's reply was, "Well, can I do my own pushups?"Dr. Christianson said, "No, Steve has to do them."Then Scott said, "Well, I don't want one then."Dr. Christianson shrugged and then turned to Steve and asked,"Steve,would you do ten pushups so Scott can have a donut he doesn't want?"With perfect obedience Steve started to do ten pushups.Scott said, "Hey, I said I didn't want one" Dr. Christianson said,"Look, this is my classroom, my class, my desks, and these are mydonuts. Just leave it on the desk if you don't want it." And he put adonut on Scott's desk.Now by this time, Steve had begun to slow down a little. He juststayedon the floor between sets because it took too much effort to begettingup and down. You could start to see a little perspiration coming outaround his browDr. Christianson started down the third row. Now the students werebeginning to get a little angry. Dr. Christianson asked Jenny,"Jenny,do you want a donut?"Sternly, Jenny said, "No."Then Dr. Christianson asked Steve, "Steve, would you do ten morepush-ups so Jenny can have a donut that she doesn't want?" Steve didten....Jenny got a donut.By now, a growing sense of uneasiness filled the room. The studentswerebeginning to say "No" and there were all these uneaten donuts on thedesks. Steve also had to really put forth a lot of extra effort togetthese pushups done for each donut. There began to be a small pool ofsweat on the floor beneath his face, his arms and brow were beginningto get red because of the physical effort involved.Dr. Christianson asked Robert, who was the most vocal unbeliever intheclass, to watch Steve do each push up to make sure he did the fulltenpushups in a set because he couldn't bear to watch all of Steve'sworkfor all of those uneaten donuts. He sent Robert over to where Stevewasso Robert could count the set and watch Steve closely.Dr. Christianson started down the fourth row. During his class,however,some students from other classes had wandered in and sat down on thesteps along the radiators that ran down the sides of the room. Whentheprofessor realized this, he did a quick count and saw that now therewere 34 students in the room. He started to worry if Steve would beableto make it.Dr. Christianson went on to the next person and the next and thenext.Near the end of that row, Steve was really having a rough time. Hewastaking a lot more time to complete each set.Steve asked Dr. Christianson, "Do I have to make my nose touch oneachone?"Dr. Christianson thought for a moment, "Well, they're your pushups.Youare in charge now. You can do them any way that you want." And Dr.Christianson went on.A few moments later, Jason, a recent transfer student, came to theroomand was about to come in when all the students yelled in one voice,"NO, don't come in! Stay out!"Jason didn't know what was going on. Steve picked up his head andsaid,"No, let him come."Professor Christianson said, "You realize that if Jason comes in youwill have to do ten pushups for him?"Steve said, "Yes, let him come in. Give him a donut."Dr. Christianson said, "Okay, Steve, I'll let you get Jason's out oftheway right now. Jason, do you want a donut?"Jason, new to the room, hardly knew what was going on. "Yes," hesaid,"give me a donut.""Steve, will you do ten push-ups so that Jason can have a donut?"Stevedid ten pushups very slowly and with great effort. Jason, bewildered,was handed a donut and sat down.Dr. Christianson finished the fourth row, and then started on thosevisitors seated by the heaters. Steve's arms were now shaking witheachpush-up in a struggle to lift himself against the force of gravity.Bythis time sweat was profusely dropping off of his face, there was nosound except his heavy breathing; there was not a dry eye in theroom.The very last two students in the room were two young women, bothcheerleaders, and very popular. Dr. Christianson went to Linda, thesecond to last, and asked, "Linda, do you want a doughnut?"Linda said, very sadly, "No, thank you."Professor Christianson quietly asked, "Steve, would you do tenpush-upsso that Linda can have a donut she doesn't want?" Grunting from theeffort, Steve did ten very slow pushups for Linda.Then Dr. Christianson turned to the last girl, Susan. "Susan, do youwant a donut?"Susan, with tears flowing down her face, began to cry. "Dr.Christianson, why can't I help him?"Dr. Christianson, with tears of his own, said, "No, Steve has to doitalone, I have given him this task and he is in charge of seeing thateveryone has an opportunity for a donut whether they want it or not.When I decided to have a party this last day of class, I looked at mygrade book. Steve here is the only student with a perfect grade.Everyone else has failed a test, skipped class, or offered meinferiorwork. Steve told me that in football practice, when a player messesuphe must do push-ups. I told Steve that none of you could come to myparty unless he paid the price by doing your push ups. He and I madeadeal for your sakes.""Steve, would you do ten push-ups so Susan can have a donut?"As Steve very slowly finished his last pushup, with the understandingthat he had accomplished all that was required of him, having done350pushups, his arms buckled beneath him and he fell to the floor.Dr. Christianson turned to the room and said. "And so it was, thatourSavior, Jesus Christ, on the cross, plead to the Father, 'into thyhandsI commend my spirit.' With the understanding that He had doneeverythingthat was required of Him, He yielded up His life. And like some ofthosein this room, many of us leave the gift on the desk, uneaten."Two students helped Steve up off the floor and to a seat, physicallyexhausted, but wearing a thin smile."Well done, good and faithful servant," said the professor, adding,"Not all sermons are preached in words"Turning to his class, the professor said, "My wish is that you mightunderstand and fully comprehend all the riches of grace and mercythathave been given to you through the sacrifice of our Lord and SaviorJesus Christ. He spared not only His Begotten Son, but gave Him upforus all, for the whole Church, now and forever. Whether or not wechooseto accept His gift to us, the price has been paid.""Wouldn't you be foolish and ungrateful to leave it lying on thedesk?"Share this with someone. It's bound to touch their heart anddemonstrate salvation in a very special way.

I really liked it. Hopefully, you did as well.

Do you ever just people watch? "There in her eyes? That's where hope lies," scribbled across Kent's paper. Matt in mid text while the preacher is exclaiming that Jesus would have forgiven Judas. The little kids across the aisle making faces at eachother. I often times find myself racking my brain on what is going on inside others' heads. Or maybe they're just spaced out like I find myself at times. That's too simple though. I like excitement. I make up stories for each of them. It helps to pass the time. Another creative release.

Hard Knock Life Pt.2

Here come the rainclouds.

It is supposed to be inspirational to hear about a person who overcame such great odds despite all the horrid events they have been faced with. I am told frequently that I am that inspiration for others. However, they have no idea what suffering is. What they do know about me is unfathomable to them. But yet, it goes so much deeper. A scar that never heals. More so, multiple.

We all remember those Good Touch, Bad Touch speakers that would come in once a week to teach the class to distinguish sexual abuse from normality. We were told about the "uh oh feeling." It is hard to believe that it can be that simple. But it really is that simple, right? It should be. What about when you think back on events years later and you know what was going on, but you cannot disregard the feelings that you had at the time? Logically, I can say that I know what happened. It is pretty black and white. But, I am still flooded with fond childhood memories of this person. So, how can I hate this person? I cannot even bring myself to admit that something really happened. Then the day came when my youngest sister mentioned something happening to her. But, she didn't know who it was. It was dark. I immediately remembered my occurence. I wanted to scream out the name. It had to have been....but I could not imagine that someone who cared about us so much could do such a thing. So, I said nothing. I was still young at the time, so I try to not blame myself. But it goes without avail. Something I will never forget. Something I will always carry around with me.

Girl talk always finds itself on the topic of whores and sex. One moment, a girl is carrying on about the biggest whore she can think of, and the next she is talking about the guy she personally hooked up with the night before. It is really hard at times to be a girl. No one wants to be labeled a whore. But what qualifies as a whore? I find myself pondering this question often. Some people say it depends on the guy count. Others, the age the girl started. This leads to one of my least desireable screw ups in life. A month shy of my 15th birthday. Yes, "shy." As in, still 14. What the hell is a 14 year old doing having sex? This was during the time my home life went crazy. I started putting all my time and effort into my first real "relationship." He was my release from the craziness. At the 6 month mark, it happened. I do not care to go into the event. Or the relationship period. I was a one of those stupid little girls that stayed with the guy that throws her into walls at school and degraded her on a regular basis. It is crazy to think of all the things a person will do to feel loved and cared for. Especially a girl.

After one commits the act, it only seems natural to do it again. I mean, you cannot take your virginity back. You are already tainted. It does not matter if you have sex with one guy or twelve. Your "Christian" friends are still going to look at you like you are damned to hell. I didn't make a habit of it. My next steady boyfriend and I dated for a year and a half. We loved eachother, so it should have been alright. WRONG. He was a perfect little Christian boy, so by the time it was over, I TEMPTED HIM. So, being the sinful present day Eve, I was rejected by my perfect little church going friends once again. That brings me to my last serious relationship. We were in love. I do not regret it at all. And I will never appologize for it. Most people look down on me for the other instances, but I refuse to go into them. It will only further jade my mood. In my defense, I really cared for every guy I chose to do it with. Except for one. Everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes sex really is just SEX. It isn't always planned. Sometimes things just happen. I am done trying to defend myself on it.

Like previously stated, girls tend to do some really ridiculous things to feel loved. I cannot explain why we do it. I have been all but forced to do some extremely horrible things. And afterwards, I have felt that a whore and a worthless piece of shit. It makes me think of rape victims. I could not imagine being raped. It is too horrid to imagine. I read about these girls and how they often times feel that it is their fault, and that is what tears them up the most. Then, I think back on my experiences. I don't want to undermine rape victims, but I cannot help but to feel as though my past was so much worse at times. I mean, I actually allowed it to happen when I didn't want it to. I just sat there and let him do whatever he pleased. I didn't scream. I did nothing more than cry. As though someone could possible reach out a hand to help. I made no noise, and I told no one afterwards. Silent voluntary rapes. Not possible, you say? Try it out sometime. Then tell me how you feel afterwards.

Because it's 5:46 and I Have Yet to Rant

Everyone has a list of seemingly tiny actions that erk them. I might as well have a leather bound novel. Today's pet peeve is rather common though. Like the person in front of you slowing down and speeding up every two seconds on the roadway.

When you do not feel like hanging out with someone, the appropriate response is, "Hey, not this time. I'm not feeling up to it," or, "Hey, I already had plans. Can we try this another time?" Do not attempt to feed me the "Hey, I don't have the money to make it up there," or, "I am going to be bogged down with homework." You are setting yourself up for an issue. Later, you can be sure that I am going to ask how your night is going or how the homework is coming. And when I recieve the response, "Let me know beforehand if you are going to drop in on me," and "I may end up going out with so and so to get a drink," I'm probably going to end up being pissed off. If you don't have the dang money, why the heck are you going out drinking? If you have so much homework, how are you making time to go out and socialize?

Someone needs to mature a bit and just let me know what is going on from the get go. I am a "big girl." I am not going to be offended by you already having plans. I am getting sick and tired of people trying to not hurt my feelings all the time. Stop lying to me to keep from "hurting my feelings."

I Only Drink Coffee at Midnight (whenthemomentisnotright)

Like many, I could carry on for hours on how I only have a few select friends that I really consider to be true friends. That seems to be the way things work out. People in general tend to let eachother down often. It is a fact of life. We all know it.

It is always a treat to have someone appear from seeminly thin air and make their way into your real life "top 8." In reality though, it is more like a top 4. But, we will extend it to 8 just so people don't feel left out tonight.

My night was filled with endless cups of coffee and great conversation. I enjoy nights like this. Nights when you truly lose yourself and track of time. Nights where the coffee runs straight through you, but you choose to continue talking and ignore it for fear of missing another's great thoughts.

Like all great things, this night unfortunately had to reach its ending. And it left me with a headache and the desire to sleep off a caffeine hangover late into the afternoon.

(mytimingisquiteunusual)

Chapped Lips and Five Hours of Kill Time

In contrast to last night's blog, this afternoon post will be a tad more jovial. Alright, compared to the last, it's summer vacation to Disney World. So grab your camera and put on a smile.

I arrived at school today at 8 am for my Biology class. I realized that I had forgotten to print out a hard copy of my lab report, so I headed for the Learning Resource Center. This is the technical name for our library and computer lab. I printed my paper out, and high tailed it to class. As soon as I reached the door, I knew I had made a ridiculous mistake. It's Friday, and my classes do not start until one in the afternoon! Way to go, me. So, I found myself left with five hours to kill on campus.

Like any other person these days, I headed to the lab again. Mmmm! Five hours of uninterrupted internet time. Soon, I remembered that Myspace is blocked on the camus computers. After the initial shock of "OH EM GEE! WHAT THE HECK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ONLINE WITHOUT MYSPACE," wore off, I decided to do the smart thing; homework. I started with the English homework due today that I had planned to work on over soggy McDonald's french fries during my lunch break. Being as it was just a weekly assignment to help enhance vocabulary, I typed up a separate one for Justin. I figured he put his off again as well. I finished my entire online orientation course. I still had forevever to kill. I happen to know Justin's last four of his SS#, so I am able to log into his student account her at RLC. Using my photographic memory, I completely his ENTIRE course online for him as well. I should start charging for this. In fact, he's buying me lunch for it. Mmm! Free fast food and cholesterol all around! With even more time to kill, I revised my Feminism paper and finished some crazy pointless survey for my math class.

This leads me to where I am now; aimlessly rambling on and complaining to my neighbor every two seconds that my lips are killing me. It's the most annoying form of chapped lips as well. They aren't dry and baked. They are tender and raw from my biting on my lower lip while in deep thought. Why is it that I can never find chapstick when I really need it?

Hard Knock Life Pt. 1

I cannot explain what causes these flashbacks from time to time, but I wish I did. If I could discover the source of these mental images, I would ensure that I steered clear from them forever. I am not usually one to talk about events in my past. There are a lot of things that I am not proud of. But there are also many things that I had no control over. These tend to bother me the most. There is nothing to be done about them though. I used to write about them a lot. However, my family is not one of privacy. And once I found that my thoughts were no longer my own, I gave up on that release. Soon after I started blogging. But, eventually I was too busy. I am hoping that I will always have time to get things off my mind. This way, I can let it all out without worrying about another person's response to it all.

I can think back to a time when I was happy. I am not implying that I am not happy now. But childhood happiness is much different. It was back when things were unjaded. Back when it was alright to have flaws. Life was full of snow cones in the summer, running around for no reason, sleepovers, and my mother helping me set up fashion shows complete with runway music and a camcorder. I would stay with my grandpa a few weeks out of the summer and he would take me four wheeler riding with my sisters and weekend getaways in his cabin. Christmas was full of popcorn stringing, the smell of pepermint and pine needles, and our old Chipmunks Christmas album on vinyl. My sister, Crystal, and I actually got along. In fact, we were best friends. We did everything together. The only thing I had to worry about was the oncoming rain that would soon wash away my sidewalk chalk drawings, losing at hangman, and getting rid of the chickenpox in time to go back to school and see my friends again.

Then reality strikes. I am now consumed by stress and worry on a daily basis. And flaws can break you. A day came when I realized that snowcones were more ice than syrup, and they always end up leaking their stickiness all over the place. Who has time to run? Unless you get up at six am. Oh, but I do. Only, so I can make it to class on time. Sleepovers are now full of gossip and girl talk about how guys have used and mistreated us all. Eventually, I grew up and realized that I'm about a foot too short to make it in the fashion industry and my mother really was my only fan. I was eventually old enough to understand that my grandpa was schizophrenic and had been carrying too much baggage from his time in Vietnam. It became pretty clear once he blew his head off in front of our little clubhouse two days before I was supposed to come visit. Christmas is now full of stress and listening to my parents try to find a way to provide for their three girls and still be able to stay afloat and make ends meet. The Chipmunks album has long been broken and for the most part forgotten. Crystal and I do not get along. We have separate social scenes. She is horrid to people. She tends to be a trouble maker. She's a substance abuser and is almost always engulfed in a cloud of smoke. Chalk is so hard to get off your hands. A few friends have taken hangman to a more literal meaning. Other friends have moved away to attend their own schools and to make new friends.

Sure, lots of people grow up and encounter unfortunate events that throw their lives off track. Let's try finding out at the age of nine that your dad isn't really your dad. My "dad" still lives in Boise, Idaho. Never once did he try to find me. But, that's because he didn't know if my mother wanted him to contact me. Then, he tries to walk into my life when I'm a Senior in high school. My aunt found him online and started talking to him. Maybe I would have liked to have been asked if I wanted to talk to him before he was thrown into my life out of nowhere. Then, he starts trying to talk to me on Myspace. MYSPACE. Do not talk to me like we are buddies. We aren't buddies and we won't ever be. And while he was off doing God knows what, my mother and stepdad took up experimental drugs with the thought in mind that they wouldn't let it get out of control. OUT OF CONTROL? As if it's perfectly fine as long as no one can tell that something is going on. Well, they broke their promise to eachother. First went the jobs, then the car, and by the time my mother got her act together, the house was gone as well. She left my dad and we moved into another house outside of town and away from the craziness. But before long, my stepdad had "straightened up." He moved in with us. Then came the time period where we were not allowed to be in the garage. My mother knew what was going on again, but let it continue. She slipped into a depression and when she wasn't at work, she was closed up in her room sleeping all day. Then came the police breaking in the door. Oh! Another one of Salem's countless meth raids. Go figure. Luckily, my two sisters weren't home. On this particular night though, a lot of my family was over just hanging out. Unfortunately, I have a delinquent cousin who decided to cook something fresh out back while everyone else was inside the house. Needless to say, he was young and claimed it wasn't his. I was bound and taken to jail with the rest. Once there, I was cuffed and had the pleasure of spending the night in an interrogation room. Then, after hours, some officers came in to talk to me. They had the nerve to tell me that I could be charged just for being there. Oh yes, sorry officers! I had no place being at my OWN house. Gosh, at the age of 15 I really should have had better places to be nearing curfew. They eventually let me leave after I cussed a cop out. Needless to say, they lied about everything I said in the room while in court. They didn't even have me sign anything. My stepdad was sent to prison for about a year. My mom was held in jail for a month before they let her off of a conspiracy charge. During this time, my sisters and I moved to Mt. Vernon to live with my aunt. Once my mom was released, we moved a few streets over to live with my grandma. We had lost the house and much of what was in it had been vandalised and stolen. I made the half hour trip to and from work all my Sophomore. And despite all the bad that had happened, it was my greatest year of school. I loved my friends, and loved my church, and I was active in everything my school had to offer. Then, one day I realized that my church was as close to a cult as it could possibly be. I tried to distance myself and try out some new churches. For this I was outcasted and all my wonderful church friends, best friends believed I was no good. At least, that's what their parents told them. I was a frequent topic over lunch after Sunday morning church. Once again, I dove into the music scene. Like many, I found a release in it. My mom found a cruddy two bedroom apartment, and we moved back to Salem for my Junior year. Soon after, my dad came home and the five of us were crammed into the two bedroom apartment where they are still living. I no longer felt the need to please people. But people were drawn to me for my blatant honesty and sincerity. I dated a lot. It was nice. I met a lot of great people and made some really good friends. I met a boy. His name was Justin. He was great, then he was horrid, then he was everything I needed. I joined the Guard and left for Basic. He was the only person that wrote me regularly. Nearly every day actually. I came home; he proposed. We connected on a level that I didn't even know we could. I moved in with him in Centralia and started making the 30 minute drive to school everyday for my Senior year in high school. I loved him with all I had. And he loved me in return. However, we took things too fast. We acted as though we were married. Neither one of us was ready for it. We didn't give eachother enough space and soon all we did was argue. Trust issues developed, and we couldn't deal with it anymore. So, I moved out and back to Mt. Vernon with my grandma.

Now, I'm just trying to pick up the pieces and move forward. There's so much more to it. There is so much more to me. But I'll save that for another day. Rainclouds and Sunshine to come.

Sociology: Norms/Mores

I am currently taking my second Sociology course. While it is very similar to my high school course, the conversation is a lot more laid back as I am sure is the case in most college settings. It makes for a much deeper or just plain humorous discussion every day.



The highlight of the class, today, came from Sam. Now, I haven't taken the time to get to know this boy, but he is the typical "icebreaker" of the class. He blurts out the most ridiculous comments sometimes. My Proffessor, Pat Junkins, usually sides with him because a case can be argued logically. Even if the rest of the class' morals and values don't support his thought process. While discussing social norms here in the United States, Sam popped off this comment, "We owe our high divorce rate to the fact that people as a whole cannot learn to forgive and forget minor infidelities within the relationship." At this comment, every female in the class shot him a death glare...or at least that's what they were aiming for. However, everyone was in too much shock over what he had just said. The class became silent waiting for Professor Junkins to tell Sam that he had overstepped his boundaries. But he didn't. The more we discussed the topic though, we couldn't dispute the fact that it is a valid argument only in an extremely warped and twisted way.

However, I like many, have a huge issue with infidelity. If someone cheats on me, he can argue this point all he wants, but it will be to himself. I won't be hearing it. I have never been cheated on. I'm not sure if this is because I have a tendency to lose it and the guys were too afraid of what I'd do if they did, or if it is truly because they cared enough about me to never put me through any of that. Whatever the reason, I am truly thankful. But I feel for the guy that tries to pull it on me. I'm not sure if I would throw a fit and then kick him out of my life, or if I'd just erase him from my life from the get go without discussion. Let's just hope I never have to think about it.

Inspiration

The ever so amazing, Justin Cole, inspired me to start up another blog. He created one to post his stories, thoughts, and to document his photojournalism. While I blogging about my Major(biochemistry) isn't all that interesting, I do love to rant, jot down memorable experiences, and share inspiration. So, if you are interested in listening to an 18 year old girl go on and on about college, friends, and life in general, check back from time to time. You may just enjoy my randomness and spontaneity.