Friday, February 29, 2008
1. After three years, I still miss you.
2. I don't know what I would do without you.
3. I wish I would have known you better while I was growing up but I forgive you for not being there because I know it was beyond your control.
4. I love you but you can't just walk out of my life for four years and then expect to come back and have any say in who I am with or what I do with my life.
5. Please stay clean. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you.
6. I don't say it that often but thank you for always being there for me. I know I take you for granted and I'm sorry. I love you.
7. I just met you but I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
8. How did we grow so far apart?
9. I want you to be happy, even if it isn't with me.
10. Treat him right or I will kill you with my bare hands.
Nine Things About Me
1. The very first thing that I do when I get home from school or work is change into my sweats.
2. I love my job.
3. Even if I won the lottery, I would still go to school. I would need something to do in between writing poetry at Parisian cafes and studying art in Italy.
4. I am deathly afraid of geckos.
5. I don't really like going to movie theaters because I always end up sitting in front of the douchebags throwing popcorn at the screen.
6. I love reading. Seriously. I love it. My idea of a perfect afternoon is just sitting by a window with a cup of tea and a good book. Nerdy, huh?
7. I love Greek food.
8. Canned biscuits scare me. Really. I think that it's the "POP" that freaks me out.
9. I make and collect prayer beads.
Eight Ways to My Heart
1. Make me laugh
2. Tell me your secrets
3. Fill the ackward silence
4. Give me hugs
5. Talk to me about art and books
6. Be passionate about something
7. Take pictures with me
8. Understand, or at leave least, don't make fun of, my love for Michael Buble
Seven Things on My Mind
1. I need to do my homework
2. I have to clean my fishtank soon
3. Stephen Lynch is hillarious
4. I have to wash my dog
5. I think I have something in my eye
6. I can't wait for sushi and bowling on Sunday
7. My stomach hurts.
1. My loved ones dying
2. Not being connected to God
3. Going to hell
4. Not being good enough
5. Dying without having been in love
Five Turn Offs
2. Ackward silence
3. Lack of passion
Four Turn Ons
1. Green eyes
2. British or Austrialian accents
3. Artists and musicians
4. Nice smile
1. Write a book
2. Travel the world
1. My "ice queen" attitude is just a front to mask my extreme trust issues. At least, that is what my therapist says.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
He was talking to *Ebony* when he turned to me and asked if I was married.
I was a little suprised. I told him I was only 19 and then realized that that didn't mean much because there are 19 year old who are married.
He said that sometimes he sets people up and if he knows a guy he thinks I might be interested in, he would introduce him to me.
I've never been good with meeting people.
And I am horrible in relationships.
But it got me thinking, what do I really want in a relationship? Or more specifially, what do I want in the guy with whom I end up in a relationship?
- I think most importantly, I want a best friend. Things can go from there.
- I need someone who understands me and can put up with me during the times when even I hate myself. He has to understand my anxieties and fears over the stupidest things.
- I want someone who will give me space when I need it and hold me when I don't.
- I want someone who would rather rent movies and eat Greek food than go out drinking.
There are quite a few other things but I simply can not think of them right now.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
- turning my fish tank light on
- saying "Good morning" to my fish, dog and mom ( not necessarily in that order, just whomever I happen to see first)
- berating myself for not finishing on my homework the night before
- firing up the laptop and desk lamp
Sometimes you just have to. It's like the walls start closing in on you and you feel your comfort zone getting smaller and smaller.
So around 11am, mom and I left the house.
We ended up stopping at Alberson's to look for tapioca balls (or pearls...whatever you want to call them). I never in a million years would have thought that they would carry them but they do! Crazy, huh?
I know you are all asking yourselves, "Why does she want tapioca pearls? Is she making pudding? Can I have some?"
No. I'm not making pudding. But if I was, yes, you could have some.
They are for bubble tea (also know as Pearl Milk Tea).
Since Baton Rouge doesn't exactly have a booming China Town (although, we do have a lot of Vietnamese), I have to make my own.
Classic Bubble Tea Recipe
1/2 cup chilled, cooked large Chinese tapioca pearls (if substituting regular small tapioca, use 1/3 cup) 1 cup crushed ice 1 cup very strong chilled black tea (or orange pekoe tea or Lichee tea)1 cup milk, or to taste Honey or sugar to taste
Place the pearls in a large parfait glass. Combine all remaining ingredients in a cocktail shaker, and shake vigorously until the mixture is frothy. Pour into the glass, and serve with extra-thick straws.
Sounds interesting. I can't wait to try it.
Then we headed to Barnes and Noble. That bookstore has got to be, without a doubt, my favorite place to spend my paychecks. Whole Foods is a close second.
But anyway, after spend two hours and $150, we came home with two bags of books. Mom got a few Spark's Notes on Spanish and a TI-83 manual.
I spent most of my time in the Literature and Poetry sections, fantasizing about one day seeing a work of my own among Dickinson, Plath, and Sexton.
But the only way I would gain notoriety as an poet would be to kill myself and I'm not so sure I want to be published that badly.
I think Erica Jong said it best: "Americans like their poets young and dead."
Well, now I am off to study the soul crushing subject that is Psychology. Damn you, Freud!
Saturday, February 23, 2008
I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
Friday, February 22, 2008
I've was looking at the course catalog at LSU and was practically drooling over the English, forgein language, and art courses they offer.
As much as I love my liitle college, I can't wait to graduate to a bigger place.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
I was worried that they would all catch me in the parking lot and take turns beating me up or something.
On Wednesday, we got the results of our first test.
The teacher wrote on the board:
107% - Highest
74% - Average
31% - Lowest
Then she called my name. I looked up and said, "Yes?"
She said, "Congratulations. You got a 107."
I didn't hear most of the comments that followed because I was too busy invisioning myself in a mirrored plastic bubble that no one could see into but I could see out of. I know how weird that sounds but it's just what I do when I'm nervous.
However I did hear it when he woman who sits infront of me (I had her in my math class last semester) turned around and said, "Nerd".
I just smiles but I couldn't help but think, "Bitch, you're just jealous."
I'm not going to do less than my best just to appease people who don't like me to begin with and if they think I am, they are out of their mind. If someone needs help with the class, I will gladly tutor them (during my work hours, of course) or find someone else that can help them.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Left the house at 6:15am.
Got to school at 6:35.
Studied for my biology test.
Took biology test. Pretty sure I aced it.
Psychology. Blah. Learning process. Cognative something. Pavlow and his dogs.
Math. Blah. Something with slopes and functions.
Anatomy Lab. No quiz. Yay!
Got to dissect a sheep heart. An odd mixture of disgust and fascination.
Flirted with really cute but totally gay lab partner.
Went to work.
Got paid $7.50 an hour to do my homework. Sweet.
Read the first two chapters of "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath.
Realize that I am almost out of my teens without having read any Sylvia Plath.
So much reading, so little time.
I'm not as well read as I should be.
Got home at 4:30pm.
Changed into my jammies (pajamas).
Napped for a few minutes on the couch.
Channel surfed. Thought about doing home work.
Read another chapter of "The Bell Jar".
Desided that home work can wait until tomorrow.
Going to bed now even though it is only 8pm.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
While I was there, I made the mistake of picking up a book called "The Dorm Room Diet".
I'm not sure why.
I don't even live in a dorm...odd, isn't it? I figured that the tips were geared toward college students who spend alot of nights awake studying for huge biology tests that they have at 7am and then Anatomy labs later in the day...what was I talking about?
Why is it that once a fat girl picks up a diet book, everyone automatically thinks that they can throw their two cents at her?
[I totally just had a mental picture of someone throwing pennies at me.]
So I'm standing in line to check my stack of books out (mostly about the writing process and poetry).
The guy who is working at the desk starts doing his thing. Open the book. Stick a card in. Put the book under the "price check" think. Runs the book over the sucurity strip. Puts the book back infront of me.
He gets to the diet book and says, in a very loud voice so that everyone behind me can hear, "'Dorm Room Diet', huh? Well, I guess all you have to do is not bring the Mars bars and chips back to your dorm room. Haha."
You would be suprise at how quickly my skin tone turns from it's lovely pale, almost vampiric white to a shade that only occurs in apples or fire engines.
I want to call the guy a jackass but I don't.
He goes on, "You should try the South Beach Diet. It's easy to stay on and you can have piminto cheese [Okay. Seriously, who the fuck eats piminto cheese? Was there something about me that hinted to him that I might like it? What a completely random thing to think of.] in your dorm fridge."
"Okay, thank you."
I quickly got my piles of books and left.
I'm not sure why it frazzled me so much.
Maybe I hate it when people point out my obvious flaws. Or that everyone can see that I'm fat and I don't need someone to actually talk about it because then it makes it okay for other people to talk about it.
It's kind of like talking about the elephant in the room [forgive the pun]. All it takes is for one person to mention it and then everyone's like, "What? An elephant? Hey! It is an elephant. Let's spend the next half hour discussing how the elephant is only like that because it's lazy and how it's costing the tax $100 quadrillion dollars in health care fees."
Or something like that.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Friday, February 08, 2008
I had no idea how popular Big Willy was.
I'm not even going to try to get into the performing arts center (where he is).
So, no Bill for me.
But somehow, I think I'll survive.
Oh, and I'm done with class for today. Waiting for 2pm so I can get off work.
Okay so I did get a chance to see him. His speech ended at around 1:45pm so when I was leaving school at 2, he was out in the quad area surrounded by security and students.
All I could think was, "Hey. That's Bill Clinton. He's not bad looking, you know, for an old guy."
I'm actually kind of glad I didn't get too close to him. I mean, I would have had to shake his hand and he's been shaking hands all day. No telling what kind of germs he's picked up.
And I also probably would have gotten caught in the moment and asked him to sign my boob.
I mean, I have to attend that school for a few more years to get my degree. I don't want to walk down the hall and have people say, "Hey, that's the girl who asked former president Bill Clinton to sign her boob."
Because that would be embarrassing.
Yeah. I'm going to get a sweet ass toy and just start takig pictures of it at random places. I won't be able to make it to Easter Island but, damnit, A&P Lab, here we come!
Now I need to find the perfect toy and get my memory card back from my sister. I'm holding her book, From Panic To Power (an awesome read, by the way), hostage until I get it.
Oh and Bill Clinton will be at *local college*
tomorrow later today (I just realized it's past midnight). I have to work during his speech but you can bet your ass that I will duck out when the my boss isn't looking. I mean, Bill Clinton!!! How cool is that?
In retrospect, I probably should have posted about Bill before the traveling toys.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
I have an intense urge to dance.
And not just regular dancing. Like, straight up pop-and-lock dancing.
Quick! Everybody do the Robot!
But why am I like that?
I have insomnia and from around 11pm-2am I have the energy to do the things I wanted to during the day but didn't get to. Like bake cookies, or do yoga or belly dancing. It's like all I want to do right now is paint, practice clarinet or streak through my backyard.
Okay, maybe not so much the last one.
But you get my point.
Or maybe you don't.
I don't care.
I going to go write or do yoga or something.
But I had crazy friends. They were absolutely insane but they taught me more than any teacher at DSFH ever did.
This list is a short compilation of a few of the life lessons my dear friends bestowed upon me before my parents realized what bad habits I was learning and pulled me out of public school.
*Do not get drunk and call your ex. It never ends well.
*Do not stick your fingers in cigar cutters when you’re drunk just because someone said "Hey. Stick your finger in here.”
*Do not ride a bike in the ice, or slick snow when you have a thorn patch at the end of your driveway.
*Do not ride a tiny bike down a steep hill and over a large speed bump.
*Despite what we all like to think, not EVERYTHING is smokable.
*Don't throw frisbees at lit lightbulbs.
*Don't take pills just because someone says, “Hey. Take these.”
*Don't get drunk and run around naked at a shopping center.
*Gasoline smells good but don't smell it for too long.
*Check the expiration date on orange juice before making shooters.
*It is not fun to dance on the roof despite the thrill.
*Most cats have claws. Don't blow in their face just because they make a funny face.
*Eye patches only look good on pirates (see above).
*If they are hot and drunk, they probably have a boyfriend that is big and drunk or a girlfriend who is crazy and drunk.
*Just because they are wearing sunglasses doesn't mean they are blind.
*Empty paintball guns + old people = probation.
*It's not fun to get drunk and hit your friends in the face with a champaign cork.
*You would be surprised who accurate your champaign cork aiming is when you are drunk.
*Do not burn things in the bathroom.
*Don't show up at your friend’s house with a bottle of Jack Daniels in your hand. Sometimes their parents are home.
*No cops anywhere believe "We were just going to Waffle House” when it is 2am.
*Getting blitzed and knocking on random peoples’ doors at 11pm can results in an angry man with pistol.
*The first place your parents look for weed is your top drawer.
*And as good as a hiding place as it sounds; the second place they look is above the door frame in the inside of your closet.
*Don't tempt drunk friends to "Spray me with that mace, I fucking dare you." Because they are plastered and they will.
*Your parents don't believe that you’re using that lighter for candles.
*Ceiling fans move a lot faster than you think.
*As funny as it may seem, when you are stopped by the cops in your friend’s car, resist screaming, “I GOT WARRENTS” and leaping out the passenger door.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyong measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.'
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shone, as children do.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we're liberated from our own fears, our presence automatically liberates others.
-Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love