What world is this?

I'm not afraid of you.

2010-02-27T23:46:00.000-08:00

I've had the most fantasmic weekend. I have done so many fun things that have included so many fun outfits, fun conversations, fun people, and sweet sounds. My weekend was fun.

It started Friday morning when Isabelle and I sat on her porch while it rained smoking joint after joint. Her porch had a nice roof that kept us dry and warm. It was this perfect cocoon where we got to watch what was happening around us and yet not be effected by it. The rain poured and we just blew smoke out and talked for hours about everything and nothing at the same time. Sometimes we would just lay there on her porch, our legs sprawled out, our stomachs facing the heavens in complete silence while we took drags. Then we'd start giggling and roll toward each other and just spit out our words talking as fast as we could. It was a great morning.

The next great event that took place this weekend was set on the ascetically pleasing backdrop of alice in wonderland. My friends threw a party in honor of Lewis Carrol. They decorated their apartment with paper machet mushrooms and trees, and they designed a doorway so that it looked like an actual rabbit hole. In order to get into the room you literally had to crawl. Hookahs were set up everywhere. Everyone sat on cushions and drank strong beverages that were poured from different tea pots. We all wore costumes:)

And lastly, I went to a show and tell party where everyone took turns presenting the group of people with something interesting. some sang songs. some played the violin. others called their mom and had her talk to the group via speaker phone. it was really interesting. and i found so many new talented people. next time they have another show and tell, i am going to work up the courage to read a story (that is if i can get writing again. my formative writing skillz have gone down the toilet).

Childhood

2010-02-22T03:47:00.000-08:00

zomg. in the midst of my insomnia, I came across youtube videos of my FAVORITE kid shows when I was little. GOD, they brought back so many memories. For a second, I felt like I was 6 sitting in a bean bag chair, eating my mom's homemade mac-n-cheese for lunch all over again.

I honest to God watched this show every single day. It was part of my routine. I'd go to Kindergarten and then come home, eat lunch, and watch this.

i so bored

2010-02-22T01:39:00.000-08:00

So, I can't sleep right now. It's 4:30 in the morning and I'm still awake. Sometimes I'm almost embarrassed by how little I sleep.

Anyway, I saw some other bloggers posting really interesting lists of what they believe in and, well, I'm going to take their lead.

I believe in the power of hope.

I believe that each one of us truly has the power to take hold of life.

I believe in forgiveness.

I believe in second chances.

I believe in starting new chapters when the time is right.

I believe in looking back.

I believe that language has the power to change the world.

I believe in doing things for yourself and not other people.

I believe in friendship.

I believe in blowing off steam at your local gay bar by jamming the night away on the dance floor with your friends.

I believe in the recreational use of marijuana.

I believe in the power of sex.

I believe that everyone is exactly the same, no matter how famous we are, or how lame, or how smart, or how dumb, we are all just ordinary people (thanks Liz<3).

I believe that blogging my thoughts away is very fun.

I believe in the necessity of justice.

I believe in gay marriage.

I believe in a woman's right to choose.

I believe in pharmaceuticals.

I believe in a good night's rest.

I believe that magic surrounds us all.

I believe that evil surrounds us all too.

I believe in choices.

I believe in things like Chicken Soup and gargling with salt water.

I believe in therapy.

I believe in the necessity of cutting some people out of your life.

I believe in my teachers, fellow classmates, and anyone trying to make a difference in the classroom.

I believe that doing hw is more important than getting drunk.

I believe that getting drunk is fun.

I believe in doing what works for you, no matter how many people tell you it's stupid, pointless, etc.

I believe in saying "Fuck You" sometimes.

I believe in God.

I believe in eating lunch outside on nice days and playing in the sun or snow with Liz.

I believe in a lot of things. And I believe that's okay.

Zomg. Listen for a chuckle.

2010-02-21T23:08:00.001-08:00

Lately, I've been wanting to speak in pictures.

2010-02-21T19:30:00.000-08:00

I love this...

2010-02-20T18:07:00.000-08:00

Temple Grandin

2010-02-19T21:01:00.000-08:00

2010-02-17T01:57:00.000-08:00

Let's just call these people my friends.

2010-02-17T01:46:00.000-08:00

2010-02-15T05:13:00.000-08:00

So, uh, I take back what I said about the police. I only hate a small part of the police department. The detective whom I talked to a couple days after the douche bag rent-a-cop was really nice and really concerned about the investigation, showing me that she truly cared about the outcome and was willing to do what it took to make things happen. I mean, I wouldn't quite call her an Olivia Bennson or an Elliot Stabler, but she was down and knew what the fuck she was talking about. I don't really care if he goes to jail or not. I just want someone with a uniform to stick up for me by banging on his door and letting him know what he did wasn't okay.

I figure my grandfather either A. had no idea how consequential molesting me was or B. just doesn't give a fuck. So, having an officer let him know that it's against the law for a reason feels good enough for me. And I know that once the cops come knocking at his door and asking around, people will stop being stupid and will stop letting their children near him. And that's all I care about: the safety of others and justice for myself and the other countless victims.

But honestly, I'm tired of talking about all this. Between the daily heart-to-hearts I have with my parents, sisters, and friends, and the once a week sessions with my counselors, I feel like I'm talked out once again.

So, instead I will talk about a great movie I watched this weekend. It stars my favorite lady Mia Farrow and Dustin Hoffman. It's called "John and Mary" and it illustrates the dynamic of a one night stand. You can watch a clip for yourself via Youtube.

This weekend was kind of boring to be quite honest. Boring and yet entirely fruitful. I did all of my hw for the whole week. All of my friends went out of town, so, I just hung out in my room drinking beer and completing assignments one by one. I did have a little bit of fun though. I went to my favorite gay bar with a girlfriend of mine on Friday night. We just danced off the stresses of the previous week. The only awkward part was running into my "friend" Matt. I met him last Halloween at a party. There I was at some house show all dressed up in 1940s clothing and he popped out of no where and started flirting with me. I really liked the attention he gave me, because in all honesty I really found him attractive. He was older and artistic and had this incredibly subtle sense of humor that always caught me off guard. We spent the whole night sipping on a joint and talking on a hammock. We flirted non stop until my ride was about to leave. I asked him if he wanted to exchange phone numbers and that was when he broke the bad news to me. He said he had a girlfriend. I tried my best not to look shocked or hurt, just because I'm one of those immature people who never likes to let someone know they've hurt her feelings. So, I just kinda blew it off. But before I started walking away he told me that they were on the rocks. He promised to call me if things with her didn't work out. I just rolled my eyes and walked away. I figured it was his loss. But then I saw them at the wave that night dancing together and looking very happy and NOT on the rocks. We talked for a second. We did the phony, "Hi, how are you?" type stuff that lasted all of two minutes and did nothing as far as revealing how we truly were. I felt resentful. But after realizing that it's probably better this way since i have so much stuff going on in my life right now, I moved on quickly. And my mind came back to just dancing and having a good time.

FUCK THE POLICE!

2010-02-09T23:31:00.000-08:00

ksjdhvidjnvckjdscnikjasdn. So, not that you expected this after my last post, but I went forward and reported my Grandfather to the police.

This sense of certainty hit me today while I was smoking outside. I realized that it's not my job to protect my Grandmother. It's simply a moral responsibility. And sometimes when you have too many responsibilities, you have to prioritize them, putting the most important on top. And I realized, by staying with him, she put the responsibility she had for me on the bottom. So, why should I decide to put her on the top. And besides, I can't protect her from everything. She decided to stay married to a fucking pedophile... having the police knock on your door is the price of that.

I'm sorry she married him. I'm sorry she found out so late. I'm sorry all of this happened to her. But yeah know what, we have to be grown ups now. We can't change what happened. We can only react to it. And she hasn't reacted well. And now, she'll have to feel consequences of that.

But that is neither here nor there at this moment, because what I really want to talk about is how fucking stupid and tactless and socially retarded the fucking police were. First of all, I had to drive an hour away from my home to where the crime actually occurred to report it. Then I had to wait a whole HOUR to speak to an officer (might I add that I called ahead of time). Then they send me some fucking trainee who doesn't know how to spell Kimberly. THEN, this officer is joined by a douchebag colleague who proceeds to interrogate me about details of the incident in a fucking waiting room in front of a bunch of people. I had to say in front of all these attentive and curious ears that my grandfather penetrated my vagina with his fingers. In response to that statement, the dbag officer #2 says all aggressively, "Okay, well, then why didn't you report him?" I was actually prepared for this question, because I know police are supposed to be skeptical. So, I replied by saying, "Because I was 7 and I was afraid." I thought my response would make him feel like the ahole he was being, but NO. He replies by looking at me like "Yeah, well, nothing we can do now." As if that's not bad enough. Right before I leave, he goes all cockily "So, how much alcohol have you consumed tonight?" WTFFFFFFF. I hadn't had anything whatsoever to drink. And so, I just stared at him in complete shock and told him the truth a couple times over in case he was too dumb to get it the first time. And he was like, "Well, you're eyes are red and glassy and you seem disoriented" and apparently, according to him, I smelled like alcohol. There are a million more probable reasons for why my eyes were red and my behavior disoriented. And as far as the smell... he's absolutely nuts. I have no idea what could have made him smell alcohol on me... According to him a detective will call me before the end of the week... 5 bucks says they blow my accusation off and eat a doughnut.

Now, I know why people hate cops and nobody reports crimes.

Meet Liz.

2010-02-08T22:08:00.000-08:00

Liz has very quickly become one of my closest friends. And what I like most about Liz is that she's not one of those phase friends who you grow out of quickly. She's sticking around. She's quite possibly as weird and as nerdy as I am. I knew Liz and I would hit it off when we compared who's leg hair was longer with pride. She won. She has the hairiest legs I've ever seen on a girl. And the coolest part is... she likes it like that.

Everything should be okay.

2010-02-08T21:52:00.000-08:00

I haven't made up my mind yet about pressing charges against my Grandpa. My cousins are interested in it... I DO want justice. I DO want to see him be held accountable for the horrible things he did to us. I want him to know that what he did was wrong. I want to confront him and let him know that he stole my innocence and robbed me of a childhood. But I don't know if him going to jail will accomplish that. I know, a bunch of people would probably slap me across the face for not having him put away when I had the chance. But the thing is that sending him to jail would mean ruining my Grandma's life. She already said if people found out how sick he was, she'd move far far far away and live alone. She's so close to death. I can't turn her life upside down at the very end. I know I'm supposed to think about only me in this. My mom told me to forget about everyone else and just think about what will make me feel better. And the thing is... I am thinking about what would make me feel better, because my Grandmother's feelings are intertwined with my own. To say that her happiness isn't a big part of my own would be a lie. You don't understand. This woman sat me, the black sheep of the family, on her lap everyday when I was little. And she'd tell me fun stories. And she always said that one day I'd do something really special. She told me that a little birdie told her that. And I believed her. She was the greatest Grandmother any kid could ask for. She made delicious rice pudding and let me try on her lipstick when no one was looking. Yeah, she's recently betrayed me in the most horrible ways, but I can't act like everything she did before now is meaningless.

Right now, I feel like I'm holding a loaded gun. Just waiting for the moment when I know whether to pull the trigger or not. I feel like I'm choosing between myself and my Grandmother.

I'm running out of time. i need to make a decision soon.

All of this is very bad and stressful, but it's also relieving to put it on the table and to let everyone know what happened to me. It's like every time I talk about it, a little weight is lifted from my chest.

I've been going to counseling once a week at some Women's place. It's for like rape victims and shit. I like the counselor a lot. She's sassy and smart and really warm hearted. I like being in her office and sitting on her couch and talking about all of the horrible agonizing shit he put me through. We talk about that stuff and then we deal with it together. She says I have PTSD. eh, I don't know if that's true. But it would explain a lot. She's been helping me move on. The only thing I don't like about that place is being in the cramped waiting room. It's like there I am, sitting in a college sweatshirt and jeans, next to a woman dressed in a business suit, who's sitting next to a little oriental gal in a work out suit. The three of us just sit there, flipping through magazines, sighing occasionally about the weather, trying to act like we're not wondering whether the other person was raped or molested too. It's the most awkward thing ever.

The counseling is worth it though. I've never felt so on track in my life before. It's like there I was six months ago, kneeling over some random guys coffee table, snorting painkillers, acting like I cared about whatever that guy of the week's thoughts were. I'd sleep with them, not because the sex felt good (quite the opposite actually), but because something happened. And I know it sounds really stupid, but the attention felt so good. I can't explain it. So, there I was... this smart girl wasting all of her potential on partying, doing drugs, and having sex.

But ever since I started doing counseling, I've stayed sober. And I haven't slept around since new year's. I've been doing other things. better things like finding true friends to replace the old ones. I've been doing volunteer work. I've been keeping myself busy in the most Mother-approved ways. And that actually makes me feel really good.

Did I just write a bunch of stuff about not being able to write anything?

2010-02-05T01:26:00.000-08:00

There are still a million things I should be writing about. I should write about the fact that I might have to take part in a procedure that has the possibility of sending my own grandfather to jail. I should write about how haunting the image of my grandmother crying out of devastation is. I should write about the guilt. I should write about how I found this awesome Women's Center near campus filled with effective counselors that will be helping me recover. I should write about my goals for recovery. I should write about my best friends abandoning me when I needed them most and how I'm now left to make new friendships from scratch. I should write about the resentment. I should also write about how much I have enjoyed reaching new levels of friendship with Jenny and Liz. And I should write about how lucky and glad I am that I was able to make such good friends so quickly after losing the old ones, especially now during this crazy series of events. I should write about a lot of things. But I won't and it's not because of that bull shit excuse I used in my last post. It's because I don't want to deal with it yet. I'm not strong enough for the reflection. I'm still exhausted from the mere acknowledgement of all these things. And I don't want the weight of the conclusionary thoughts. So, I won't write about it. For me writing is a way to deal with things. So, yeah. I'm staying away for the time being.

2010-02-01T15:48:00.000-08:00

So, I haven't posted anything lately. And that's not because I haven't had anything to write about. It's actually because I have EVERYTHING to write about. A million things have happened. I just haven't made sense of it enough to put it to paper. I will soon though. I just can't right now. But I will give you little blurbs of updates.

*I lost all of my lifelong best friends recently. We've been on the rocks for awhile apparently. I didn't know. And now they don't want anything to do with me. I was really upset for a little bit, but I've learned a lot from this experience. And I've actually made some new amazing close friends that I will talk about more later.

*My grandfather, the one I told you about, well dramatic stuff has happened.

* no more drugs. no more breakdowns

*I met a nice boy.

*I am happy.

2010-01-19T12:16:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking lately. And I've come to the conclusion that my life is changing constantly and yet there are still some parts that are exactly the same. It's like all my hopes, dreams, and feelings are staying the same, and they're just orbiting around the ever changing planet that I am. Sometimes I can't always see them, just like we can't always see the moon or sun, but I always know that they'll return and that they're out there floating among the stars and celestial spectacles that is life.

I feel like my life is so complicated and yet I feel like that's a good thing. I feel like my world is becoming more and more adventurous. It's like i'm on this inquisition to figure out myself and to civilize what's left of me. I want to create an empire within myself.

Alright, enough metaphors and similes for now.

zomg. I want to see this so much it's a little unbearable.

2010-01-12T00:43:00.000-08:00

The night starts here.

2010-01-12T00:38:00.000-08:00

I had a great night. No, I had a great day! It started at, ugh, 7:30 am for my American Lit. class and then consisted of my drooling from boredom over this ridiculously dense, unbearably complicated, and fucking confusing article about the origins of rhetoric in Athens and the different systems through which Plato and Aristotle accessed them. It was all "if a+b" shit. But then afterwards I went to my Rhetoric class and it was amazing. It was SO surprising. My teacher just brought the subject to life in the most colorful and enchanting ways. She made everything so interesting. All I want to do now is homework for that class. But seeing as I have a finite amount, I had to figure out something else to do after I finished it. And I decided to go hang out with friends. And it was so great! Liz and Jenny and I just layed on Jenny's huge bean bag in her room and laughed about stupid stuff. There was no pressure. It was just chill and I love that. And then after that Corey and Tyler and I just had the most riveting and absorbing heart to heart for like three hours. We just sat and talked about EVERYTHING. I mean all the way from politics to personal tragedies. It was one of those conversations. We were all so in it. It was great. And if I wasn't so tired I'd create an elaborate portrait of words to illustrate the events. But I have class at 8 am tomorrow. So, I'm going to opt for sleep instead. I just had to put that out there.

2010-01-11T12:26:00.000-08:00

I dreamed I was dying; as I so often do

And when I awoke I was sure it was true

I ran to the window; threw my head to the sky

And said whoever is up there,please don't let me die

But I can't live forever,I can't always be

One day I'll be sand on a beach by a sea

The pages keep turning, I'll mark off each day with a cross

And I'll laugh about all that we've lost

2010-01-08T00:02:00.001-08:00

What are the words you do not yet have? What do you need to say? What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you . . . sicken and die of them, still in silence? Perhaps for some of you here today, I am the face of one of your fears. Because I am a woman, because I am Black, because I am a lesbian, because I am myself—a black woman warrior poet doing my work—come to ask you, are you doing yours?

Audre Lorde

“The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action”

I wake up in the morning and I step outside, and I take a deep breath, and I get real high, and I say "HEY what's going on?"

2010-01-07T14:29:00.000-08:00

And I try, oh my God, do I try

I try all the time,

In this institution.

And I pray, oh my God, do I pray

I pray every single day

For a revolution.

So, if you've been reading my blog you know I like to party and have a good time. Well, lately I've been taking that good time a little too far and i've been stretching it thin over my eyes like a worn and torn veil. I've been drinking excessively... about every other night i'm leaning over the toilet. And I've been waking and baking everyday for the past two weeks. I've been smoking weed about 4 times a day. And not only that, but... I've been snorting things like focalin and pain killers on a more frequent basis. For awhile I thought this was all okay. I thought I was invincible... But then something happened. something that changed me forever. it was one of those events that people include in their memoir, or think of briefly right before they walk toward the light on their death bed. I tripped completely for the first time. And I can say easily without giving it much thought that it was the most horrific experience of my entire life. Maybe it's because I am crazy. I don't know why that particular hallucinogenic fucked me over so badly. And honestly I don't even want to think about it. I mean, I felt purely haunted by the experience for the next two days. I even debated seriously in my head whether I wanted to write about it. I was so afraid that writing about it would bring back the memories and make me relive it. But I'm going to tell you what happened, because I think that you guys should know what is possible if you take those drugs. It's not always fine and fucking dandy. Sometimes it's ridiculous and damaging and life altering.

I knew about 15 minutes after digesting it that I wasn't going to like the trip. My body started feeling really unusual and out of my control. I felt twitches up and down my legs and arms and back, and at the same time my body felt incredibly heavy, so, with each move I felt like I was losing strength. And then my vision began to change. I didn't just see the person sitting across from me. I saw a blurred and highlighted version. But then my mind started feeling distorted. Suddenly this person sitting across from me started to scare me for reasons unbeknowst to me. His heavy eyelids and glazed over stare started to scare me. "What do you see?" he asked me softly. And I just flipped out, because his whole appearance scared me so much. I was so scared of how little control I had that I couldn't believe he was actually enjoying it. And suddenly I thought he was some representative for the devil. So, I started to cry, and when he moved forward to comfort me I snapped. Because who wants a representative of the devil comforting them? So, I told him in the midst of

spiraling psychosis not to come near me. I was shaking and rocking back and forth, or atleast I thought I was. And then I started screaming at him. I said, "Just get the fuck out of my house." And I know he must have seen the insanity in my eyes because he bolted. And then I somehow managed to make it to my room. I turned the lights off and shook in bed, crying, sobbing, praying for it all to be over. My body felt so different and foreign and I just wanted to scratch my skin off. And then it occured to me that i might be experiencing some drug induced form of schizophrenia. I read book about that once. And it definitely seemed to be quite similar experiences. And so I started hypervenulating as voices and colors and images of clowns and harlequins soared in and out of my head, coming in through my ears and being transported out everytime I exhaled. It was like I had no control over anything. It was like I didn't exist. I had no connection to rationale. And I realized, laying in there in the darkness, cheeks all sticky and wet from crying, that I wanted my Mom and Dad. I didn't care how much trouble i'd be in. I just wanted them. I knew with them around I could be safe. So, I woke them up at 3am and they rushed into the car and drove an hour and a half from their home to pick me up. My dad stayed on the phone with me the whole time, trying to calm me down. He told me afterwards that he was so scared. He said the things I said and the eerieness of all the images I described was so out of the norm that he though I should go to the hospital. And then I told him that if I had a gun, I would shoot myself just to get the drug out of my system.Next thing I knew my parents had me in the car and were arguing about whether to take me to a hospital. I declined the invitation. I went home and after sitting in that hell for what seemed like forever, I finally drifted unknowingly to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I felt sane. And so fucking relieved that I was still alive, with my sanity intact. I also felt incredibly lucky. If it wasn't for my parents getting me and keeping me safe, I might not be here right now. I might've killed myself or been arrested or wound up running hysterically down the streets of Norfolk.

And so, I decided... No more drugs. I'm calling uncle. I'm saying when. I've had enough. I've learned my lesson.

I'm not quite sure why I treat myself the way I do. I'm incredibly self-destructive. It's not that I hate myself. I think it's that I want someone to save me. I don't know. But I know enough is enough. And it's time I tried taking care of myself.

Happy New Years... A rant

2010-01-01T19:43:00.000-08:00

So, it's a new year. A new decade. And I still feel like the same old dark and twisted girl I was in 2009. and 2008. and possibly 2007. And yet, my life seems to have become irrevocably different. This past year I've changed almost everything about my lifestyle and managed to change almost nothing about myself. I drink a lot now. I smoke a lot of weed. I do a lot of drugs. Read less. Eh, write way more. Study less. Party more. I seem to function in a new way in an old world. I lost my virginity. It seems like that more than anything changed the way I saw things.

I thought losing my innocence would unveil some truth to life. As if, my nievity would subside and I'd be able to confront a land, a type of life, that shielded me from true happiness. I don't know. It sounds so stupid and dramatic, but that's what I thought would happen. In actuality, I ran smack dab into the old life. The same old shit. I just walked into it like a sliding glass door. And it woke me up. It made me realize things are exactly what they are. There's no secret to life. There's no real mystery. It is what it is. Life's hard. grab a helmet. And try to have as much fun as you can before you die.

Anyway, I can only hope that things will start to change for me in this coming year. I'm taking new classes. Hopefully, I'll meet new people. more interesting people. Maybe a guy... hell, maybe a girl... that'll help me to finally see the beauty around me. And maybe help me see the beauty in me too. Idk. All I can really focus on is doing the best I can with what I've got. The rest is out of my hands.

A new day.

2009-12-30T14:14:00.000-08:00

In a couple of days a new semester will start for me.

I'm taking:

Women's Rhetoric: This class looks amazingly interesting. We'll dissect and research literary pieces written by women that have affected the progress of women. zzzzzzoooo fun.

World Literature: Eh, not so excited about this one. We'll just be studying pieces from around the world.

The Film: We'll be analyzing the deep meanings and aestetic appeals of different films. FUN.

American Literature SINCE 1860: self explanatory.

The American Novel from 1920-the present: This class looks awesome. We're going to dissect changes in the way people wrote novels. For example, the progressive use of profanity, the gradual openess of topics written about, etc. We're going to be reading really interesting pieces like Lolita, American Psycho, To the Lighthouse.

I am ready.

And there'll be love love love where ever you go.

2009-12-29T22:31:00.000-08:00

Oh God, how I wish I was able to attend woodstock. I just finished watching Taking Woodstock. It was like mental masturbation, imagining how amazing it would be to actually have been there, tripping, listening to some of the greatest music ever made, running around bra less in the mud, with people filled with passion, living in a tent... How grand?

It's been awhile.

2009-12-24T21:33:00.000-08:00

I haven't been on this thing in awhile. Not since finals started. Nothing's really changed. I'm still the same old potty mouthed, dark, and slutty pothead I was before. I mad eup with my sister though. Yeah, things are good between us. Same with my Mom. Now, I'm just trying to enjoy the break:)

2009-12-14T22:34:00.000-08:00

yeah

2009-12-06T12:57:00.000-08:00

So, this post will be dramatically undramatic in comparison to my lost post. Like my blogger friend Melissa, I don't have much to say. This week is full of finals and the recreational usage of adderall. I'm a little stressed, but it's nothing serious. I just have to make it through to January, which is a very doable thing.

2009-12-02T22:38:00.000-08:00

As of this minute, what is going through your mind?
The awful responsibilities of being on your period.

What are you wearing?
Sports bra, underwear.

Have you ever liked someone older than you?
I was in love with my chemistry teacher in hs. haha. he was 42.

What was your first thought this morning?
I remember waking up in the middle of the afternoon and asking myself how I could still be so tired.

What are you currently listening to?
I don't always listen to music.

Where's the last place you went besides your house?
Corey's. Where else?

Have you held hands with anyone lately?
nope...

Do you miss the way things used to be?
I don't know yet.

Who was the last person to call you?
Corey. He wanted to inform me that it was free beer night at tanners... or something.

Where is your phone?
Laying in bed with me. I always have it within reaching distance, I'm sad to say.

Last time you talked to your number one?
no

Are you a forgiving person?
too forgiving.

Can you watch scary movies?
yep. my fav is orphan.

Has anyone let you down recently?
No, not really.

Who was the last person you cried in front of?
I was sobbing on the phone with corey.

What are you excited for?
My house on 47th

Do you remember the reason why you last threw up?
the booze, I'm sure.

Do you have a Facebook?
yes

Is Facebook better than Myspace?
I like it more, whatever that means.

Do you ever go on Youtube and search the most random things?
Yeah, but then I feel dumb. Like I'm wasting my life away.

What's the next movie you want to see in theaters?

2009-11-29T00:32:00.000-08:00

"I look to the left, I look to the right... Hands are grabbing me from every side."

From a whisper to a scream.

2009-11-28T23:08:00.000-08:00

I want so desperately for someone to understand what I'm going through. I want someone to stand up when I feel weak and grab the world in their hands and just stop it from rotating for one day. All I need is the world to stop moving, for people to stop rushing around starbucks, for duedates to die, for people to chill, while I catch my breath. My medicine is still not here. And my brain is still clouded with emotions that I can't even begin to understand. I say this everyday and I know it's getting old, but all I want to do is lay in bed. It's the only thing that makes sense.

Sometimes when life is hard, I just want to hide. I don't want to clean up the mess. And it's not that I don't know how. I know what I need to do. I need to chill out with the partying, I need to scedule a therapy appointment, take my meds, shower, and get back to class. I need to chill the fuck out. I just don't have the strength to do it. It was never not knowing how. It's always been the issue of strength and not having enough.

I had a break down today. I flipped out on my Mom and smacked my sister. I yelled at my mom and accused her of not loving me the way she loves my siblings. It's like ever sicne I was little my mom's seen me more as a responsibility, this emotionally handicapped job that she doesn't feel like attending to. It hurts so badly. It hurts every time I look at the way she laughs and gossips with my sister and then sighs at the sight of my messy hair and smudged mascara.My 27 year old perfect sister (no really, she's fucking perfect) yelled at me and tried to stick herself into something she had no business dealing with. My Mom started to cry, as I smacked my sister, and asked me why I do this to the family. Everyone was standing in the kitchen looking at me like I was a monster who ruins everything. So, I flipped out. I lost control. I started pulling my hair, kicking the chairs around, screaming and crying, breaking their stupid shit that they buy to show everyone we're wealthy. They just cried silently in response and dodged the flying bullets that my insults became.

I've been hurting a lot lately, but i've also been numb. It combs in and out like waves. There are lulls or lapses, where the pain slips away and I feel nothing, but that does not bring me peace. It's like the rain stopped, but the sky's still shitty and gray and the grounds all wet.

I know what I need to do. I need to get shit off my chest and talk about this stuff. I'm letting it curl up with me. And that is so monumentally painful. It's like I'm living with a ghost, this transparent being that exists in the small valley of my hopes.

I will tell you something in an effort to get it off my chest. Life can be really shitty, I mean fucked up, disturbing, dark, twisty, shitty. I mean the shitty you don't like to think or write about. the shitty that's so ugly that you don't give it the time of day. You suffer from because it's easier than dealing with. We each have a story that brings about this shittiness. Here's mine.

When I was seven years old my Mom got tired of me. She was tired, just so tired. She had four kids and my dad was living in d.c. I was Add and all over the house, running around, breaking things, begging for attention. She was tired. She couldn't take care of me. And she hated that, but she accepted that she needed a break, came to terms with it, and took a mental health break. She abandoned me for a summer. In the midst of stress and frustration and sleep deprivation, she dropped me off at her sisters for a summer in Philadelphia. I stood there with a lump in my throat, clutching my stuffed animal, and watched her drive away. I thought that was the worst thing that could happen to me. I seriously thought, wow, what's gonna top that? But then my uncle's hand wrapped around my shoulder... and he started squeezing it and massaging it. And the next thing I knew, when no one else was around, he was asking me to sit with him on the couch. He made me pinky promise that what would happen next would be our secret. I was such an idiot. My gut told me that what was about to happen, this so called "game" was evil. But I just wasn't sure. So, I nodded my head, and took his pinky in mine, and promised never to tell. For the rest of that summer he licked, poked, and prodded my naked body. He molested me unashamedly. It was like living in hell. At night, I wouldn't sleep, because I was so afraid to wake up and find him standing over my bed or something. I never ate, because he always made me sick to my stomach. When I went hoem I was afraid to sleep, because I didn't want to talk in my sleep (something I am notorious for) and reveal the darkest secret I've ever posessed. So, I didn't sleep. I didn't eat. I lived in pain and silence. I threw tantrums, I disrespected teachers. I screamed a little every day hoping to get the disgust I felt over myself and body out of my system. Nothign worked. Eventually I told some people, not my family. I told my therapist. I told Kait. I told Leslie. I opened up a little. And that felt good, but I never felt entirely healed. Then one day I couldn't take it any longer, my mom was planning a holiday trip to my aunt and uncles and I just told her everything. I started crying. She started crying. My dad started crying. they felt so guilty. I held that secret in for six years.

I don't always talk about it, but it doesn't mean that I don't think about it. I am a 19 year old young woman with a rather superior iq. I smoke pot, I go to the local university, I have friends, am fairly popular. I fit in and don't stick out as far as appearances go. But inside, I feel like I'm a different species. And I don't know what to do, or to say to myself, to make that feeling go away. I just know how to hide and lay in bed.

I want to be brave. I want to be someone 13 year old girls look up to and what to be like. I want to be just like Leslie (with some minor changes of course). I want to teach and be a scholar. But I don't know how to do that when my mind and body feel so weak.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-27T11:54:00.000-08:00

Was incredible. full of lots and lots of delicious food and great family bonding time. We spent all day sipping champagne and playing are you smarter than a 5th grader on wii, while, my dear old mom, cooked the turkey and other such items. Then myself, my mom and dad, my two sisters, little brother, sister's boyfriend (they're in the above picture), other sister's best friend sat around the table and chatted about what we felt most thankful for. It was great. I wish it didn't have to end.

thanksgiving break

2009-11-23T22:48:00.000-08:00

Sometimes... I like laying in bed all day and watching movie trailers

2009-11-22T20:16:00.000-08:00

2009-11-22T18:00:00.000-08:00

I've layed in bed all day today, lounging, reading, talking on the phone to my friend Rocky, watching grey's anatomy (which is an amazing show btw). I haven't done hw. Haven't cracked open my bio textbook. And I'm okay with that. In an odd way, I feel like today was very productive. For the first time, in a long time, I feel rested. pure and simple. the kind of rested you can only get from laying in bed all day watching your favorite show and reading your favorite book. I feel peaceful. Not entirely peaceful, but close enough, which is surprising, because I still don't have my meds.

Last night was fun. I went to two different parties with some friends. One was pretty lame. It consisted of cheap 40s, black lights, and highlighters... the next was a little more classy. It maintained a well developed rap off between these two guys. I sat on the stairwell with my friend eric and we played 20 questions while the rest of the world bumped and grinded to the music. Then we went back to my place where we cuddled the night away. He's a really nice guy, whom I enjoy getting to know. I just don't know if I'm ready to like anyone yet.

I say I want deep, mad, truthful,life affirming love all the time. But I never consider the fact that with that love comes hard work, fighting, messy, twisted feelings, and having to worry about the other person. I don't know if i'm ready for that side of it. I don't know if I want it. Besides, I like being alone most of the time. I don't like having to worry about other people with the same intensity that I worry about myself. You may call me selfish. I think I'm just human. I just don't need any more problems in my life right now.

let's talk about something taboo... vaginas

2009-11-20T10:15:00.000-08:00

I have my first gynecology appointment today... zo scary. I guess it's about time. I've been engaging in sex now for a few months and, well, it's time I made sure everything's still in tip top shape. I'm afraid though that she'll tell me something I don't want to hear, like "Oh you slut, now look, you have syphillis." or something... idk, i think i'm over thinking this. I have nothing to be paranoid about. I use condoms, I'm hygenic... nothing to be scared of right? Ugh, but then I'm afraid of the other side of it. The stupid scary part, like the fact that someone's going to be poking medical instruements in one of my, if not the most, private part of my body. What if I have an ugly vagina? Idk. This is scary.

All I can do is keep breathing.

2009-11-19T13:58:00.000-08:00

I've been especially out of it these past couple of days. I've been sleep deprived, tired, moody, and frustrated. I don't really know what's prvoking these feelings. People ask me what's wrong and all I can say is that it hurts. I ran out of my medicine two weeks ago. All of it. And i haven't been able to see my psychiatrist. I hate how my moods depend on pills. I hate it so much. I just have to make it through today and then tomorrow and a couple more days and then I'll be better. Because that's when I can see my doctor.

I took a late afternoon shower today. I was letting the warm water run over my naked body. I leaned against the wall for support and then slid down to the floor. I just sat there with my knees pulled into my chest and sobbed as the water hit me. I want out of these feelings. I just want a fucking break already.

2009-11-18T11:41:00.000-08:00

The love i'm sending aint making it through to your heart.

2009-11-16T17:21:00.000-08:00

Why do I love this so much?

Bangs!

2009-11-15T16:52:00.000-08:00

I made the bold decision Saturday morning to get bangs. yay. I'm glad I took the risk.

Last night was so much fun. I went to a house concert in little creek where everyone drank, smoked, and moshed the night away. There was pushing, shoving, and loud music to create the ambiance. When we weren't all bashing into each other jovially (a deserate attempt to portray the way the music "affected" us), we were outside in the cool night air smoking cigs and chatting about what it is that makes up life.

After the party I tripped for the first time. zo weird. I ate mushrooms. They were splendidly unnerving. The only problem was that I didn't get much of a trip. I only felt it a little. Everyone was asleep, all cuddled up with each other in bed. I put my big red coat on and tip toed to the fire escape, where I sat and smoked. The sun was rising and the mushrooms made the light seem so peachy and happy and beyond my control that I had a transcendental moment. I could hear the noisy late night traffic from the city and it was like I left my body for a moment and floated/basked in the morning rays.

Ahh I'm so glad I ate them with the people I did. Lizzie and Shane are awesome. Lizzie and I cuddled up together, noses practically touching, while Shane complained about not having enough room on the bed. haha.

2009-11-12T15:34:00.001-08:00

When you live in VA, you don't have snow days... you have rain days

2009-11-12T07:41:00.000-08:00

Yes, no school for me or for anyone living within a 20 mile radius. The rain is pouring so fiercely and thoroughly throughout my city that classes have been cancelled. Fun Fun Fun. I plan to spend the day with my two new friends Cheli and Lizzie.

Last night we all had a sleepover. We made a fort of blankets on her living room floor and then watched Mad Men via her lap top until like 1am. We all fell asleep together cuddled up underneath cozy blankets, listening to the sounds of water dripping into a pot from her leaky roof. ah, the joys of young adulthood.

Today we are going to make soup. yummm:)

Anime Convention via Shane D. Butler.

2009-11-10T20:49:00.000-08:00

google him. find his website. he is my friend and an amazing photographer. you will slowly see much more of his work on here.

Just another way to procrastinate

2009-11-10T09:18:00.000-08:00

I don't want to do my hw. I don't want to study. I only want to write, but I don't know what to write about. So, I'm going to compile a detailed survey that you can read tog et to know me. Then maybe, just maybe, I might feel like doing my hw. Sometimes I feel like I have to exhaust all possibilities of fun before I do my hw. Otherwise, I'll want to do something else the entire time and will thus feel distracted. So here we go.

This was stolen from Mayte's myspace btw.

As of this minute, what is going through your mind?

I am a mess.

What are you wearing?
Jeans, black shirt with black flowers embroidered on the top, and a black cardigen with gold flip flops.

Have you ever liked someone older than you?
More like when do I not. I have a thing for older guys. Way older. I know it sounds cliche, but I feel like guys my age don't really understand me.

What was your first thought this morning?
Not again. I'm tired of the mundane routines like going to class that ruin my life.

Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?
Absolutely not.

What are you currently listening to?
Bury This by Amy Millan

Where's the last place you went besides your house
conveinent store. needed cigs.

Do you miss the way things used to be?
Sometimes I miss the old more innocent Kim.

Who was the last person to call you, and why did they call?
My Latin Professor haha. She told me to call all the peeps in class and inform them that she was runnign late.

Where is your phone?
In my yellow purse.

Are you a forgiving person?
perhaps too forgiving.

Can you watch scary movies?
mhhmm. they don't scare me.
What's the closest thing to you that is green?
My green towel

What did you do yesterday?
I woke up. Got baked. Ate breakfast. Went to American Lit. Discussed Thoreauvian theories. Went to lunch. Met up with corey. Got baked. Hung out. Did random shit.

Has some one ever told you something that brought tears to your eyes?
Not really. I'm not much of a cryer. I'm usally in shock or angry.

Has anyone let you down recently?
Yeah. I thought this woman was mature enough to move on and get over my old melodramatic bullshit, but apparently she doesn't want to. And that is a disappointing shame.

Do you remember the first time you kissed the last person you kissed?
there was only one time.

Does it bother you when people try to make you jealous?
no. i find it incredibly flattering.

Last time you had a sleepover?
Brian slept on my couch Saturday night, because he was too drunk to drive home. Does that count?

What are you excited for?
Moving into my house.

Do you still have your tan lines from summer?
oh god no

Do you remember the reason why you last threw up?
um, drunk as shit.

Do you have a Facebook?
guilty

Is Facebook better than Myspace?
yeah, more people use it.

Do you ever go on Youtube and search the most random things?

only when i'm desperate for soemthign to do.

What's the next movie you want to see in theaters?

Education http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oYkLgaQ27L8

Do you live near a beach?

why, yes, I do! But I never go.

Do you have more than $50 in your room?

try 10.

Do you think there is a difference between love and in love?

love is what you give your mother and best friend. being in love is that magical state of being that only exists when you're around that special person.

Do you like tomatoes?

with mayo and salt

Were you tired when you woke up this morning?

very

What did you have for breakfast today?

nothing..

Who is at your house right now?

my roommates

Who is probably talking a load of crap about you right now?

no one

Making Moves

2009-11-10T08:36:00.000-08:00

Lately, I've been feeling kind of out of it. I've been feeling very lazy and unenthused about a lot of things, but mostly school. My grades have dropped dramatically from all As to all Cs. I don't know what's going on. It's just that every time I open a novel I'm supposed to read or start my Latin hw, I can't get into it. I try so hard, but my mind is in a completely different place that refuses to let go. And I can't get any work done.

I don't know where my mind is right now. Everyone says I seem like I'm some where else. Where am I? I just keep dreaming about better and funner places where things make sense and everything goes my way. I wish I could connect the two worlds. I think I'm going to try, I just have no idea how to do that. All I know for certain is that I just want to lay in bed all day and feel better. It's getting so cold outside.

I can't wait until the end of the semester when I move out of the dorms and into my own house. I think things will get better for me then. I'll have less distractions, etc. I'll be able to focus on the important things in life. I can't wait to decorate everything. I already know how I'm going to set things up. I'm buying a shit ton of decor from modcloth.com. They have the best apartment stuff. You should check it out.

Goodbye On Campus Housing, Hello 47th street!

2009-11-09T20:26:00.000-08:00

Oh my fucking god

2009-11-09T15:19:00.003-08:00

This was my hs french teacher...!!! http://louislicari.ivillage.com/beauty/archives/2009/01/plaza-ambush-makeover-5.html

oh boy

2009-11-08T14:34:00.000-08:00

So, I went to an anime convention last night with friends. We all got drunk before hand and walked around oogling the costumes and extreme dorkiness of those around us. We took a lot of cool pictures, which you'll see soon. But the best part was the very end. There was a huge techno rave. We all just jumped in and danced around waving glow sticks all the while.

A new short story...

2009-11-06T11:24:00.000-08:00

Here's what I got so far. Tell me what you think.

The sky was irritatingly sunny. And the wind was evilly withdrawn on this very hot summer day. I sat on my wooden porch swing, barefoot with my tan knees pulled toward my chest, taking deep drags of cigarettes. I picked at my chipped red toe nail polish with one equally chipped fingernail and contemplated resurfacing them with a new color before Miles arrived. But decided against it. Too much work. So, instead I stayed where I was. Smoking deeply, with my back pressed against wood, rocking ever so slightly, to the old blues. The smoke leaving my mouth uncurled itself into the sky as I looked around me, bobbing my head to the music. Old houses with big front porches painted in funny colors like red and turquoise surrounded me. Bordering the back yards and porches were lighting features, like Chinese lanterns, Tiki torches, and white Christmas lights for decoration. They created a refreshing ambiance at night. Scattered in the overgrown front lawns were beer cans and beer bottles, informing passersby that the house was indeed owned by college students. My own home was indeed littered with ciggerette boxes and empty bottles from last night’s rather wild rendez vous. I laughed fondly as I remembered the way everyone immediately upon getting high, sat down to discuss the different meanings in all the aspects of life. It was like the marijuana was a soap washing away everyone’s insecurities and fears for the night. The bud of the plant supplied fertilizer to the blossoming individuals in the room.

And then I saw the most beautiful thing: Miles with his brown curly hair and creamy white skin, pedaling down my street on his blue mountain bike. In his ripped up army coat that he got from his Father, and tan cargo pants, he came to embrace me. His breath, a warm sweet smell of pancakes, splashed my face like warm water on a cold day. His strong arms lifted me off the ground a bit as he leaned back with me. I nuzzled into his shoulder and breathed in the lusciousness of the subtle milky scent. Looking into his face I saw his sapphire blue eyes, glowing in the sunlight. He smiled his crooked little smile dressed in slightly plump red lips and kissed me on the forehead.

“Hello, dear lady,” he said.

I looked up at him and smiled involuntarily from the special gratitude one feels after being flattered. I loved it when he called me that. It made me feel better than what I was.

“Hello, good sir,” I replied.

“How are you feeling,” he asked.

And suddenly without realizing it, any certainty about my mood slipped away from me. And I was left dumb founded. I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t sad. I was pleased to see him, but there was still an underlying sentiment of grief in my spirit. I stared into the distance thinking about the valleys between the contrast of my feelings.

And mumbled, “I…I..I actually don’t know.”

He looked back at me with concern. His face scrunched up as his eyebrows furrowed. And then I abruptly felt my stomach open up and a feeling of gestational pain gurgle up toward my throat. My head pulled back as the involuntary gagging action was evoked. I was about to puke. I looked panicked in his worried eyes, and then ran into the house, cupping my hand in front of my mouth all the while. I got to the bathroom and leaned over. At first I just dry heaved. But then yellow spit came up. Still this removal of waste was not satisfying. I needed to hurry the pain out of my stomach. So, as I knelt over the toilet I stuck two fingers down my throat and wiggled them, feeling the back of my insides flap a little. I continued to wiggle my finger as I slowly lost the ability to breathe. Spit and Mucous were slowly spilling from the crevice between my fist and the corners of my mouth. Tears ran down my cheeks. Finally, and with great weight, yellow and green barf spewed from my mouth. Miles had walked in at this point and held my long brown hair back with a hand, as he rubbed my shoulders. Every couple of seconds another thrust of barf would come.

Finally I was finished. My throat stung from the forced encounter with my fingers. I looked into the mirror for a second as I brushed my stained teeth. Mascara ran down my tan cheeks. My green eyes were rimmed with the color of blood, as I gargled, a little water spilling from the corners of my mouth. Bright red veins shot from the pupil. I looked like shit, but I felt so much better.

After I left the bathroom, Miles looked at me quizzically.

“What was that about,” he asked.

“I have no idea,” I said truthfully.

But before I could wonder too long, our friends Isabelle and Michelle showed up. Isabelle was a beautiful brown mix of Puerto Rican and Italian. Her long brown hair curled to pieces of perfection in the golden light. Her brown eyes were like chestnuts on a warm fire. Dressed in jean cut off shorts, white converses, and a yellow college t-shirt, she sat down on our purple couch. Next to her, Michelle sat in navy blue hot pants that made her ass look firm and accessible. Her tank top showed off her large breasts, while her long blond hair softened her entire look. Her eyes seemed dead and her thoughts seemed vast and incompatible with the rest of the worlds.

yes<3

2009-11-04T20:24:00.000-08:00

I found my cell phone. I found my student id. I got high, did some hw, and now feel like dancing. It's amazing how quickly days can turn around.

And so it is...

2009-11-04T14:31:00.000-08:00

I am having a very bad day. It started off with a very soar throat and then propelled itself to the height of chills and nausea. After two advil it loosened up and got a little better. But then I realized I have to write a short story, 3 poems, and do a hw assignment in addition to reading a novel... all by thursday night. So, that killed the tiniest little buzz I had. Then after smoking a little bud to calm me down, I left my cell phone and student id card in the school's cafeteria. My life fucking sucks sometimes.

I don't know. Lately I've been feelign very she-wolf. I've been smoking pot all day witht he boys and then roaming aorund campus, taring a part every social observation i make with inquires about morality and insight. I've been debating people and standing up for myself. It's a good feeling.

And so, right now I'm blue and I'm well. I just feel skeptical about everything.

angst

2009-11-02T09:29:00.000-08:00

Right now, I feel weird. I don't know how to express exactly what I'm feeling. I just know that I don't want to go to class. I don't want to take quizzes. I don't want to talk to people. I just want to lay in bed and listen to sad music. I don't want to be held accountable for anything right now. I just feel so weak emotionally. I know I sound lazy and you're probably thinking I'm pathetic, but I'm not. What I'm feeling right now is so heavy. It's more than anyone can bear. If you felt the way I do, you'd understand.

Sometimes when I walk around outside like this and see people I know, I wonder if they can tell just how upset and confused I am. Can they see past the small talk and the fake smiling. Can they see past my composure. I know my mom can. She came to visit and it was like she knew immediately. moms are like that. she noticed the bags under my eyes.

I hope I feel better soon, because Life doesn't wait.

My Halloween

2009-11-01T18:10:00.000-08:00

Halloween was pretty cool for me. I went to this interesting party full of professors and graduate students in a really nice part of campus. We all got high together and then made love to the english language by having some of the most heartfelt and raw conversations. Everyone was amazing. Here are some pictures. Everyone thought I was Angelina Jolie from the changeling, but really I was just someone from the 40s. I'm the chick with the yellow hat:)

tissues, tears, long walks, and marijuana

2009-10-28T09:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was one of the most interesting days of my life. I spent the entire day volunteering for the Deeds campaign on campus. I went around approaching people, asking them if they'd be interested in helping out the campaign. I got to know so many new personailities through that. I met old people, young people, kids, and spouses. People can be so fascinating when you give them a minute to talk about just anything they want.

After I did that, I saw OBAMA, zo cool. It was so weird. I had to keep pinching myself reminding myself that he was actually in front of us. I'm just so used to hearing him on tv. Yeah know?

Afteward, I ran into a ghost from my past. The husband of my old mentor. I broke down in front of him and started to cry. His wife had abandoned me when I went crazy, because she thought I needed some alone time with myself, or something. I don't know. People get freaked out and run when you talk suicide. Anyway, I began telling him that I was in a much better place now when all of a sudden I started to cry a little bit. But it was a good cry. He looked at me like I was a freak, but I didn't care. I just kept thinking about how much I've grown and how beautiful that is. I wasn't crying because I was sad. I don't think he quite got that. But that tends to happen when people don't keep their minds open to new thoughts. Sometimes people get so caught up with what happened in the past that they can't see the beauty in the present moment. They're like that, this couple. Still, I cried shamelessly, because for the first time sitting in front of him, the embodiement of rejection, I felt completely secure in myself and my sanity. And that is such an important stepping stone for me. For the first time I didn't care what he thought. I almost started laughing, because he seemed so thoroughly convinvced that I was crying over his wife's rejection. But in actuality I was crying over the beauty in my gain. He didn't get that. And for the first time, I was okay with them not getting it. It was such a beautiful feeling. I felt like a layer was peeling back and I became more myself. The person I'm supposed to be.

She was such a big part of my life that losing her as a friend and mentor during that crazy time was excruciatingly painful. But I've learned so much as a result. Lying there all brusied and hurt on the ground, my msucles grew stronger as I lifted myself up without her aid. And now I run around enjoying life all on my own. If they don't understand that or acknowledge it, well that's their loss. I'm independent enough that I can do this shit on my own. With that being said, I feel like I just opened the door to a new part of life. A more free one.

After THAT, I got high with my friends. We smoked so much. And we just walked around this old neighborhood looking at the architecture of each uniquely built home. We laughed so hard and talked about all the important things. Then they all want to some meeting that I didn't want to attend. So, I walked around campus formulating this really cool story that you'll eventually see. It's about old people seeing worth in newer and more different ways. Then I bumped into this guy named Tyler who was smoking a cigar on the bench with this guy named Thomas who happened to be reading a book on the supreme court. Thomas turned out to be the coolest guy. We talked about everything. Tyler even ditched us, because it was obvious what was going on. Thomas and I just hit it off so well. He helped me conjure up ideas for short stories and poems and he told me what his lif eis like. In a few short hours walking around our city we made ourselves so vulnerable to each other. I just looked into his eyes after all that was said and saw so much potential, warmth, and knowledge that it made tomorrow seem like a better idea. We're going on a date next week:)

omgomgomg

2009-10-26T06:12:00.001-07:00

I got tickets to see barack obamaaaaaaa mother fucker!

OMG. Fucking Barack Obama.

2009-10-25T11:50:00.000-07:00

Omg.Omg.Omg.Omg. Barack Obama is coming to my campus to campaign for one of our upcoming Governors. omg. I'm not even a democrat, but I'm freaking out. It's the fucking president dude. whether you agree with his politics or not, to say you sat and listened to him speak is a big deal. I'll wait in line for days if it means getting tickets. I hope he does Q & A.

cheap nights, loud music, couches, and double standards.

2009-10-25T11:43:00.000-07:00

I've been doing really well in the drinking department. I have been very hospitable to my liver these days. I've only been getting a little sloppy drunk on the weekends as opposed to pass out drunk every night. I went to a couple parties every night of the weekend and only drank a few beers. I was tempted to drink more, but I knew that by drinking more I'll fall back into the rut of early alcoholism. Yeah, I kinda had a serious drinking problem for awhile. Did you know that? idk if i already mentioned it. The only problem is that I've replaced drinking with smoking green. Omg. I love marijuana. Even the smell gets me off these days.I love the bubbling sound of a bong. I smoke a gram about every couple a days. And I firmly believe bongs are one of the greatest inventions of all time. idk. i guess smoking weed is bad for you, but in my defense it's a hell of a lot better for your body than cigs and booze. Plus, I just love the way everyone opens up when they're high. It's like marijuana washes away everyone's fears and insecurities. We have the best talks high.

I hate double standards. I smoke a lot of cigs and I get judged all the time for it by male smokers. Last night while smoking outside with a bunch of guys, they told me between taking drags that I was too pretty to smoke cigs. wtf. Why can guys do everything they want and get away with it. This includes casual sex. My ex friend J-rod called me a whore the other day for sleeping around. Even though he does it all the time. He said, "it's just different with girls." UGH. I just wanted to scream at him. But instead I just ignored him and will continue ignoring his calls and texts for the rest of my life. don't call me a whore for sleeping around. I am a 19 year old, healthy independent, young, sexual being. I sleep around responsibly for the fun of it. I don't do it out of emotional angst or anything. These are my choices about my own body. I am not destructive. I praise my body and satisfy it in many ways. I love my life. Besides, I shouldn't have to explain myself to anyone whose buisness it doesn't belong to. Yeah?

I finally found a decent house to live in over the summer. I'm so excited. It's two levels and very pretty. It's an old one with wooden floors, glass window panes, and a huge front porch. The bed rooms are a decent size and the girls who need the roommate are really nice. The distance from campus isn't that bad either. Just a comfortable bike ride.

I'm getting better at Latin:)

2009-10-20T08:38:00.000-07:00

Meus nomen est Kim. Quod ego amo Latin ordo.

My name is Kim. And I like Latin Class.

Quis universitas est is? Quis universitas of quis brevis? Quis kindgdom of quis seas?

What world is this? What shores of what world? What kingdom of what seas?

pride.

2009-10-19T08:16:00.000-07:00

I feel good right now. I feel proud of myself and intelligent. We had to read an especially long piece of lit. in my american lit. class and I got a 100% on the quiz. Then when our class was discussing it in length, I made several good points. The teacher said I was really on the ball today. This makes me feel so good. I'll write more later, just had to get that out.

zoo. booze.cold nights. warm coats. soft hands.

2009-10-18T08:07:00.000-07:00

So, remember when I said I was going to try to take it slow in the drinking department? Well, that was an epic fail on Friday night. I got smashed. I don't know what happened. I guess the drinks I drank were stronger than I thought. And then after awhile I just thought, what the hell, I'm already drunk. I came home slurring and talking like a baby. Thanks to my friend Michelle, no boys were involved. She walked me home. I was barefoot, because I couldn't walk drunk in heels, and she held my hand all the while.

Saturday night, however, was a big success. I went to three different parties and consumed a total of one bottled beer.

It's been so cold here. At first, I loved it. But now I'm starting to get annoyed. It's getting to be too cold and too rainey.

And now, I have to go to the zoo today for a biology project. I have to observe the animals in their "natural" habitats and make recordings and answer questions. It would be fun, if it wasn't 0 degrees outside.

A cold day witha green tea latte

2009-10-16T10:50:00.000-07:00

Oh boy, Oh boy, today is so cold. It's filled with rain and drizzle and muddy puddles. But I love it. I love wearing my big red peacoat with my black rainboots. And i love snuggling up at night with my most comfortable sweat pants. I love seeing the clouds my breath makes outside. I love it all.

Tonight I'm going to a party, and I've decided I'm only going to get somewhat drunk. I want to be a little more than buzzed, but not sloppy. I'm trying to take it slow. It's my friend's brithday party with a dress to impress theme. A lot of girls are going to wear skanky dresses. I might be one of them. I'm not sure yet. I can bet there's going to be a lot of picture taking. Girls love that shit. So, maybe you'll actually see.

Papering

2009-10-14T12:43:00.000-07:00

I'm supposed to turn in a ten page paper tomorrow for my women writers class. And right now, all I have is five pages. I can't think of anything else to write. I feel like any more ideas will stray form my thesis and make the paper lack focus. And if I just continue to expand on the ideas that are already included, each point will become diluted by superfluous information, making it weak. ugh. what to do? What to do?

Idk. I don't even feel like working on it anymore. I think I'm going to take a break from it today and then stay up all night to finish it.

I had to write some poetry for my creative writing course. I'm not very sure what I think of them.

Poem #1

The Bacardi is doing well tonight.

It warms her veins.

The gushing sound it makes when being poured sparks her meager interest.

Tonight will be another night like the rest of her previously lived life.

It will consist of her favorite men and women.

Plath. Bukowski. Vonnegut. And Millay.

And all to the sweet sounds of Mozart.

The stars will twinkle and know

Just how fond her heart grows for the letters they write.

And the ones she has yet to inscribe.

But then comes life, raping her from behind and up her most private of parts.

And there she is

Left again in the dark.

Poem #2
Here I am cussing filth, like Bukowski drinks beer.

Here I am smoking cigarettes that make me smell bad.

Here I am not caring about how I smell.

Here I am, not liking boys.

Here I am, not liking girls much either.

Here I am, but there I go.

There I go, wearing my best friends dress, trying desperately to be what I’m not.

Off to a place, that’s socially acceptable.

Off to a place, where girls brush their hair and where make up.

Still, my soul stays back in the midst of cigarette smoke and filthy language.

It stays in a place where being a girl means nothing except having a vagina.

It stays in a place where cool means indulging myself in cheap liquor, smoke breaks, and notebooks.

It stays in me, despite what I put on me.

I saw a beggar lady in the street today.

She was reading a map upside down and scratching her head with dirty hands.

I looked at her and said, you remind me of me.

As she looked back, she shouted, “What the fuck do you know?”

Poem #3

Sometimes the hurt is so deep it hits the marrow of my bones.

Sometimes all I can do is cry.

I’ll lie down on my naked back,

Stretch my body out,

And attempt in the freezing air,

With my weak arms,

To reach out for some ghostly state of being that only exists in a small valley of my hopes.

Strange how hard it rains now.

It hits with the sting of a needle prick,

In the mean color of red.

Sometimes I feel like the hurt creates these big walls that I can’t climb.

It makes me feel like I’m going to drown.

They wonder if the rain is contagious.

And it is contagious, that’s all I can say.

All it takes is a second lingering on why bad things are,

And it will come.

It won’t patter with friendliness on your rooftop

It will pour.

And you will grab on with all your strength to anything that will hold you up.

Your wet hands will grow tired and they’ll hurt.

You will grow cold as the wind swirls around you and the rains pushes hard against your naked shoulders.

But you know if you let go,

So will your last breath.

Oh, how it rains.

I <3 Tracy Chapman

2009-10-13T14:11:00.000-07:00

"Here I am waiting for a better day/ A second chance/ A little luck to come my way/ A hope to dream, a hope that I can sleep again/ And wake in the world with a clear conscience and clean hands/ Because all that you have is your soul."

A new day.

2009-10-13T09:35:00.000-07:00

I had a really good phone chat with my best friend Kait today. We talked about a lot of really important topics in our lives. For me it was my drinking and smoking and casual sexing. And I realized that I need to cut back on the self-medicating, because it's getting me no where fast. It just provides a temporary escape that bares no fruit. And it's dangerous, because I'm becoming addicted to such things. It's not just light fun anymore, it's becoming my lifestyle. And that's bad, because I don't want to be that person.

I need to stop and look at myself in the mirror and change my ways. I need to breathe into myself as am, and find the beauty in that. I need to go back to the simple pleasures that I once indulged in, like staring at the flickering flame of a candle while meditating, watching chick flicks, reading everything in sight, praying, going into nature. These are good things to self-medicate with.

I used to spend hours alone in my room doing arts and crafts, like decorating my walls with pictures from magazines or collaging hard surfaces. I used to spend time looking up quotes on the internet and having deep insightful conversations with my best friends. Now, I just engage in risky behavior.

At first it was fun and all, but now it's just old. And it wears my body down. I'm tired of being that jack ass who's drunk at a party. I want to go back to being that moderately boyish girl who reads the classics for fun and reads random wikipedia articles for kicks and giggles and who blushes everytime she gets a cat call from a random construction worker.

Book Banger: a new blog

2009-10-12T12:22:00.000-07:00

So, in the midst of boredom, I decided to create a second blog. This one will be different it's devoted to literature of all sorts. I basically just promote books and poems, song lyrics, and quotes that I like. If you too are a book worm who loves art and letters, you should check it out:)

http://nomnomnombooks.blogspot.com/

Thoughts from a loner on a friday night. Cheers!

2009-10-09T20:16:00.000-07:00

"I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black, and she told me son fear is the heart of love, so, I never went back."- dcfc

So, once upon a time I met this really cool lady who gave me all this great advice. And I followed it blindly, because she seemed right... until, however, it got me no where. And I realized she wasn't always right. And that was when I came of age. Since then, I've taken every bit of advice anyones given me with a grain of salt. I think it's important to remember that the advice a person gives is what worked for that person. It might not work for you, simply because people are different. And sometimes, advice is useless. Sometimes we need to break free of expectations and what is considered right and do what FEELS right and learn our own lessons. Now of course, it's not always like that. Sometimes, you do need to shut up and do what someone tells you. Your gut will tell you when to do which.

In these short nineteen years of my life I've learned to listen to my gut. Listen to music. Listen to poetry and books. And feel things for myself. This is a very important lesson.

If you constantly live your life constrained by the expectations of someone who is not you, you will most definitely miss out. And that is awful. Does that make sense? idk.. i am just rambling, because it's late at night and I'm tired and feeling crowded by my thoughts.

But on a lighter note, I am at home. my real home. with my wonderful parents, eating homecooked chili in my very comfortable bed, playing with my lovely bag of bones old dog who smells like mother nature's poop. Today is a good day. And tomorrow will be better, because I'll see some of my best friends like kait and kelsey.

How sweet it is to be alive when a weight is lifted.

P.S. If you get a chance listen to Amy Millan's cover of Deatch Cab's "I'll follow you"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICVvbZ_dhbU

Hiccups.

2009-10-07T21:32:00.000-07:00

At this point in my life, I’d like to live as if only love mattered, as if redemption was in sight, as if the search to live honestly is all that anyone needs, no matter if you find it.

~Tracy Chapman~

Here's a little bit of a new short story, i'm working on. I must warn you it's not for the faint hearted. I think I got a little carried away.

Her sanity was slowly slipping from her grasp and yet, she felt calm and collected as she picked daisies from the field filled with wild flowers. She felt calmer than she’d ever been in her life, actually. She watched her warm white hand graze the tips of the flower petals, as she contemplated which ones to use on her father’s dead eyes. She had just finished plucking them out. Her fingers were still pruned from the wetness of his blood. She planned to insert the stems into the sockets like a lover would insert a rose in a vase. She was excited about this. Feelings of joy and accomplishment bubbled in her slowly, brewing up and down her child sized body- the one she hated all because of him.

He moved her out into an isolated area on the mountains so that no one would hear her screams as he raped her every day and every night for 15 years. He kept her locked in a basement when he wasn’t forcing himself on her. But little did he know, she had a plan to stop it all. And now, as she walked through the miraculous field, speckled with the colors of flowers, she had accomplished everything she ever wanted from that plan. She killed him. She stopped the devil that he was.

Her small hands and arms still covered in dried blood dangled down her sides. In one hand were a bundle of flowers. In the other a knife. It was with that knife that she stabbed him in the heart. He was eating cereal with his back to her at 5am. She stared at the back from behind him. Contemplating the consequences. Weighing the pros and cons. And ultimately deciding that feeling satisfied was more important to her than going to jail. What the hell, she thought. I already managed to escape the basement. And with that she did it. She just opened the drawer with the knives, grabbed one, walked right behind him, lifted it with two hands over her head, and pushed it deep into his chest. It was as if she was doing the hymlick maneuver, except with a knife in her hands.

He didn’t die instantaneously. Not like she expected. He put up a fight. But it didn’t matter. He was finally weak. And she had the strength to beat him to death with a knife.

And so it was. He was finally dead. And she finally lived in a world where he no longer existed. Her dreams had come true. Yippee, she thought as she walked back toward the wooden house with the big front porch. Inside, he lied naked. He was a total mess. Blood and guts were everywhere. She intended to cut the snake off that would wiggle between her legs at night, but instead took a sledge hammer and bashed it in. It was too hard to cut off and she was tired of touching it. After that she had carved her initials into his chest. Only to come to the conclusion that ripping his stomach open and pulling his guts out would be more fun. After that she boiled the guts and shoved them down his empty throat. And then finally, she decided to give him some sense of grace. She decided to put daisies on his eyes. It was those eyes of his that evoked the grace, in the last moments before his death. He looked so sad and apologetic as he wailed from pain. She almost felt remorse.

What was golden went gray and I'm suddenly shy

2009-10-06T11:52:00.000-07:00

SO, I've been attending the different events of the literary festival at my school. The speakers are so wonderful, but oh so intimidating. Their words are so thoughtful and beautifully crafted. I'm jealous. They have what I lack and that is insight. I guess it just takes time to gain that shit. Time and experience.

I'm still so young.

It's 6:00 am and I'm still awake

2009-10-06T03:34:00.000-07:00

I can't sleep. I can't sleep. I can't sleep. And yet, I am oh so tireddd. What is going on with me? I haven't slept in days. I'm having a hard time getting my thoughts on to paper. I'm having a hard time even reading my handwriting. No stories are coming to my brain. All I can do is listen. And even that's hard, because I'm so jumpy all the time. I can't sit still. I can't be calm. I'm just an impatient little bia. Everyone says I seem out of it. They all say I seem like I'm somewhere else. I am somewhere else, I'm day dreaming about feeling normal again. I feel so cold. And ultimately scared for the well being of my slipping sanity.

Movies I want to see

2009-09-30T11:45:00.000-07:00

Everyone's talkign about whip it, but I'm all about some hilary swank in Amelia. idk. here are some links to movies i'm dying to see.

Amelia: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ioZCEpRLpxo

Capitalism: A Love Story: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JeROnVUADj0&eurl&feature=pyv

The Lovely Bones: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikUWKi0W5_g

The Time Travelers Wife: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USUDlMBR-dQ

OTHER movies you should see that have already been released..

Philadelphia: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cl4B9AU45P4

Now and Then: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxhiuNQPuj0

lovelovelovelivelivelive

2009-09-28T13:54:00.001-07:00

I feel like this sums up all of the boy problems I've ever had. If you know me, you will understand.

"A Bird may love a Fish, but where will they live?"

work, the real thing

2009-09-27T14:21:00.000-07:00

So, the other day I attempted to post something about my new job. But all that came up was the title of the post. ew, 15 minutes of good writing down the drain.

oh well... I guess? Anyway, I'll attempt to recreate it.

And it's probably better this way, because last night was the best anecodte to summarize my new job.

Basically, I work at this cool ass hookah lounge run by college kids like me. We work from 4 in the afternoon until 4am (ew), putting hookah together, bringing people new coals to keep their shit lit. And we serve middle eastern food to hungry mouths while everyone sits around on couches and cushions. This is what hookah is about in case you don't know: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hookah

Well, every Saturday night we have a DJ and belly dancers. And everyone- waitresses included- dance around to middle eastern music all night. It's so much fun. No one sits when the music is on. We all just move methodically to the music and clap. Sometimes we all hold hands and do the debkah... wich is: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ry7DeMJXi8c&feature=PlayList&p=7B10F0C7E1E599FD&index=28

The men hop around on one foot, leaning forward and then arching back as they clap their hands or slap their knee. The girls move their hips in a strong twist keeping their arms in the air and let their hands do the dancing up top. Atleast, that's what they taught me at Kanzaman.

Anyway, it's tons of fun. And it makes me daydream about faraway places across the ocean.

Work.

2009-09-26T14:40:00.000-07:00

Hookahh

2009-09-24T08:32:00.001-07:00

So, I just got a job at this hookah lounge near my school! ayayayay!I start work Friday:)

Thank You

2009-09-23T09:10:00.001-07:00

I just want to say how grateful I am that some of you take time out to read my oh so long short stories. Your feedback really means so much to me, because I get so nervous about what people might think in my class. So, having a heads up from you guys about whether it's good or bad makes me feel better.

From now until next semester, I'll be posting a lot of short stories and poems and plays, maybe even non-fiction essays. I will be attempting to go to raw places in my life. And I will attempt to provoke emotions from you guys.

My goal as a writer is to make each word a gift to the reader. Something they can take with them and use as a way to feel better in one way or another.

So, keep reading. And please keep giving me feedback. It means a lot to me:)

Oh and P.S. the book The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison is fucking amazing and will blow your mind.

Here are some of my favorite parts:

"Love is never any better than the lover. Wicked people love wickedly, violent people love violently, stupid people love stupidly, but the love of a free man is never safe. There is no gift for the beloved. The lover alone possesses his gift of love. The loved one is shorn, neutralized, frozen in the glare of the lover's inward eye."

"And fantasy it was, for we were not strong, only aggressive; we were not free, merely licensed; we were not compassionate, we were polite; not good, but well behaved. We courted death in order to call ourselves brave, and hid like thieves from life. We substituted good grammar for intellect; we switched habits to stimulate maturity; we rearranged lies and called it truth, seeing in the new pattern of an old idea the revelation and the word."

This one is about the main character whose mind went off the deep end due to the cruelty of her peers and family. And it's about how these two sister tried to save her by planting marigolds.

"The damage done was total. She spent her days, her tendril, sap green days, walking up and down, her head jerking to the beat of a drummer so distant only she could hear. Elbows bent, hands on shoulders, she flailed her arms like a bird in an eternal, grotesquely futile effort to fly. Beating the air, a winged but grounded bird, intent on the blue void it could not reach- could not even see- but which filled the valleys of the mind.
We tried to see her without looking at her, and never, never went near. Not because she was absurd, or because we were frightened, but because we had failed her. Our flowers never grew. I was convinced Frieda was right, that I had planted them too deeply. How could I have been so solven? So we avoided Pecola Breedlove-forever."

Like I said, this book will blow your fucking mind. Not only is the plot suspenseful, but it's beautifully crafted with clear symbolism and valuable meaning and insight. The prose is stunning and rather unforgetable. It's about oppression, the need for physical beauty, the dark side of sex, and the power of shame. Depressing, oh hell yeah. But worthwhile? fuck yes.

Cheers to all and have a delectable afternoon!

Another Short Story by moi

2009-09-22T18:29:00.000-07:00

It happened at least once a day during her vacation with them. He’d come into her room and start touching her, caressing her, in all the wrong places. He’d look into her face, nose practically touching hers, his eyes glazed over, and say in a hushed voice filled with lust “You like that, don’t you.” His breath prickled away at her skin in the darkness of the room, making her shudder in disgust. She didn’t respond. She never responded. She was 7 and he was 65. He was her grandfather.
Every night before he made love to his wife during the summers she stayed with them, he’d slip down the hall silently to molest his granddaughter. No one knew, but him and the girl. This went on every year until she was 12. It was around that time that the unwanted kisses and touches just stopped. No words were spoken. There was no ceremonious detachment of his perverse and misguided sexual cravings from her young, feeble, body. It just dawned on her one day that he hadn’t touched her in awhile.
But even though she was free of his literal grasp, she never really felt free. Instead she felt haunted and dirty, crowded by her constant thoughts about it. She always felt covered in a coating of perverseness that permanently attached itself to every fiber of her being. No matter how hard she scrubbed. She still felt filthy.
So, when her father tried to hug her goodbye as she left for college she shrunk away from his arms and wiggled out of the embrace. She didn’t like to be touched by him. She didn’t like to be touched by any man. It didn’t matter whether they were normal men who were disgusted by child molestation. She just didn’t like to be touched. A sharp pain pierced her heart as she watched the hurt fall slowly into her Father’s eyes. He never did anything wrong, she thought. He doesn’t deserve this. He deserves so much better. He never knew. But still, she couldn’t do it. No more touching, she thought as she quickly pecked a kiss on her Mother’s warm cheek. No more.
She stepped into the driver’s seat of her parents old volvo, wearing a red sun dress, her long brown hair swinging down her back, waved good bye, and finally pulled out of the driveway. Her Mother and Father watched her. They watched the daughter they just couldn’t understand pull away from them and into a life where they would soon be pushed out of. They felt regretful. They never knew this girl. They saw her come in and out of the house. They watched her make straight As and perform in ballet recitals. They knew her favorite color and food, but they lacked the spark and warmth that goes a long with having a relationship with someone. She never opened up to them. They tried so hard to get to know her. But no matter how much they inquired about her day, it was always just fine. Nothing more or less. She never provided more than a sentence to them. And they didn’t know how to change that.
They felt like horrible parents every time they tried to pat her on the back. It was like she hated them. She moved away fast. She dodged their glances and hid the schedule for her soccer games, so, as to avoid having to interact with them when they assured her she did great.
She never wanted things to be like this. She just didn’t know how to act around the mother who looked just like the man who molested her or the father whose hands were the same size as his. Rejecting them was the closest she could get to remove the memory of her grandfather. But it wasn’t just them. Rejecting every touch, every smile, every possible friend, felt reassuring to her. She never wanted to explain why she was the way she was.
She only half listened to the music as she drove to Yale. The rest of her mind was consumed by its own thoughts and longings. If only she could feel good about the relationship she had with her parents. She was certain of nothing except for the fact that her parents deserved more and that she wanted more. She just couldn’t bring herself to hug them. It was so gross to her.
But when she arrived at Yale and watched the families around her unloading trunks happily, she couldn’t help but long for a good hug. The kind she loved before he started forcing himself onto her. There they were: her roommate’s perfect family. She sat on her orange and turquoise bed spread watching them unpack, hands wrapped around each other lying still on her lap, legs uncrossed and knees turned in school girlishly. The family so loved by each other. “Oh, Krystal, what if you put this here,” the girl’s mother said as she tested a John Lennon poster out on the wall. “I can raise this bed,” the father said excitedly. “I’ve got my tools out in the truck, I’ll be right back sweetie,” he said giving his daughter a kiss on the forehead. She smiled at the girl happily. And the girl just sighed. She suddenly regretted insisting on going to college without her parents help.
A large lump grew in her throat as she thought of her parents sitting at home. Her dad would probably have a scotch out by the fire place as he read the latest John Gresham book. Her Mother would undoubtedly be outside in the garden, weeding. She wanted them so badly all of a sudden. She wanted her Mother’s sweet voice and her father’s assuring nod of the head. She thought she would burst into tears when Krystal’s mother asked where her parents were.
I have to get out of here, she thought. So, she ran out of the room just like she always did when things got tuff. She ran to a place she thought she could escape to, away from her thoughts. She ran all the way to a diner. By now it was raining. She sat there in a booth, soaking wet and drank chocolate milk from a straw. She tried thinking about the old music playing or the overpriced desserts on the menu, but all she could pay attention to was how much she suddenly wanted her Mom and Dad. She tried so hard to shake it off, but she couldn’t. Suddenly the wall she spent so much time constructing to keep people out slowly started crumbling. I want my Mom and Dad. She couldn’t deny it to herself or them anymore.
So, she searched her purse for her cell phone, I’ll call home and tell them I’m all moved in. That will be enough, for sure. But she couldn’t find the phone. She looked around the diner for a pay phone; there it was on the left wall, sitting idly with an out of order sign adorning the front of it. Oh well, she tried to tell herself, this is just another one of those random moods. It will go away, she thought to herself.
But the more she sat there the more she wanted to talk to her mom and dad. The lump attached to her throat would not remove itself. So, as she looked out of the big window right next to her, she decided she’d go out to the payphone outside. A little rain was worth it. I just want to talk to them. I have to hear their voices. But when she got outside, there was a fat white woman there already talking away at the receiver, her arms waving like she was in a heated argument. Fuck, she thought as the rain fell harder. Her cold breath making little clouds, as she wiggled around rubbing her own arms.
She stood there freezing in the rain, just waiting for what seemed like hours but was actually ten minutes. When she got in she dialed the numbers she knew so well. Hands shaking. It rang, once, twice, three times, “Hello” said her Father’s tired voice. She planned on just telling him that she moved in safely, but as she opened her mouth and began to speak her voice cracked. “Dad,” she said, beginning to cry. “Kate is that you, are you okay,” he asked hurriedly. He called out to her Mother “Sandy it’s Kate.” “Kate is everything okay,” they asked as she said Mom and Dad through tears. The rain fell even harder as she said the words she’s wanted to say all of her life, but never had the strength or nerve to commit to. “Mom, Dad. I just wanted you to know that I love you guys.” Tears were falling as hard as the rain. And just as she took a quick breath her parents said so seriously, “Oh Kate, we love you so much, sweetie.”
“I’m so sorry,” she kept saying through the rivers her cheek bones were making. “For what?” they asked. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say that.” She said. And with that she started a new chapter of what would be a much better life. With those words from her parents, she felt herself heal a little bit. It was like their love was the soap needed to wash off the filth that was so viciously put on her.
When she stepped out of the phone booth and back into the pouring rain, she didn’t feel cold anymore. Instead, she felt the warmth of good love from good people. She stretched her arms out and tilted her head back and just let the rain fall on her. She didn’t care that she was getting even wetter than before. She felt good and embraced. For the first time, she felt loved.

Ew

2009-09-21T17:10:00.000-07:00

So, that guy I wrote about... the one I smoked and talked with for hours apparently had sex with his ex-girlfriend this weekend and magically fell back in love with her. ugh.

What a downer, eh? Well, I can't say I'm that hurt since we only hung out for like two weeks (grant it we were talking and making otu the whole time), but I can say I'm extremely disappointed.

I really thought he was going to be someone special. And mayte's comment about me deserving love made me so excited, because I do deserve a good boyfriend I can fall in love with.

It's just so hard to find someone when you're all dark and twisty like me. Although, I will admit that this year I've become much less dark and twisty and have been a lot nicer to people as opposed to last year's cynicism and grouchiness.

Idk. we shall see. i'm moving on and still dreaming. one day some glorious man will prove me wrong about my distaste for male gender.

The Good Life.

2009-09-20T16:41:00.000-07:00

Soo... I've been doing a lot of research on the two different careers I want. In case you don't know, I'd like to be either an English professor teaching American Lit. or a Book Editor at a publishing company. But after the research I've decided there's only one thing that I REALLY wnat to do and that is to work for a publishing company in New York City. The job descriptions fits my personality perfectly. You read manuscripts sent in by agents, etc. all night and then pick out which ones should be considered. Then you edit the manuscript down and work with graphic designers to find an acceptable cover and you schedule events to promote the books. You also wine and dine with poets and writers galore to push your company. Doesn't that sound scrumptious?

Anyway, I spent the last hour googling publishing companys and internships for this summer. They all seem like so much fun.

I can just see myself now, waking up in a soapboxed sized apartment with books and clothes thrown everywhere only to go outside into the greatness of NYC to my little office decorated with plants where I'll spend my time reading and writing and eating lunch with poets.

My name's Danni and i'd like a big blue.

2009-09-20T08:32:00.000-07:00

Last night was rather enjoyable. Alcohol was involved of course (it always is with me). My friend Michelle and I started drinking in the early evening and then went to a beach themed party at ten. We were so drunk by the time we got there that we just acted silly the whole time. For example, we decided to change our names. For the whole night I introduced myself as Danni (with an I of course) and Michelle introduced herself as cruella (yeah, like 101 dalmations). We drank like 5 mixed drinks called Big Blue (named after our school's mascot).

It was really nice. Michelle is very nice, and smart, and funny. We just randomly met one day at a housing meeting and hit it off so well. I literally said, "You seem really cool. We should be friends." And that's exactly what happened.

The Day I was a Bird (a short story by me)

2009-09-19T11:50:00.000-07:00

There I was standing in the sunshine, my head tilted back, with one pig tail in my mouth, looking into the deep blue yonder that made up the sky. The breeze swayed around me, caressing my bare legs and arms. I was eight years old and the world felt like mine for the taking. It was there in my front yard that I played my games filled with imaginary people living playfully in their beautiful and colorful imaginary worlds. And it was there that my heart broke for the very first time.
That day I had pretended to be a bird. Birds always seemed like such lovely creatures to me. They were often colorful and they sang little songs that warmed the hearts of those around them. They flew, so free, into the sky with no restraint, but their own desires and appetites. So, yes, that day, playing all alone (as usual), I pretended to be a bird.
I spent hours creating a nest big enough for me to sit in. My objective was to make it look realistic. So, I ran around the yard with my lanky legs dressed in bright blue shorts, looking for branches and pine needles that I could push together. After much time and with great patience, I had sculpted what I thought was the most beautiful and useful, human sized bird’s nest.
I sat in the nest, with my legs tucked under me, the backs of my bare feet behind me, looking up toward the sun. I flapped my arms around, keeping my elbows tucked in by my underarms, going “Caw, Caw.” I felt so peaceful and at ease, just sitting there basking in the rays of summer. But after a few short minutes, I grew tired of just sitting idly in the nest. So, I ran stealthily back inside, leaving the heavy front door open behind me, to find one of my favorite Junie B. Jones books.
After a few minutes of searching my bookshelf I discovered the deep purple covered book, adorned with the face of an independent 8 year old tomboy- a hero of mine- that I cherished so dearly. I grabbed it and then ran back out; fearing that wind or some other element beyond my control might disrupt the nest that I had put so much work into. When I got back to the nest, I let out a sigh of relief. There it was, perfectly intact just as it was when I left. However, the scenery surrounding it had suddenly changed.
Instead of seeing an empty street lined with cookie cutter faux colonials, I saw kids playing. Girls and boys littered the street, moving around on bikes and roller skates, there was even a go-cart. A pang of envy and fear erupted in my chest. These were the kids that made fun of me. These were the kids that left me out. They wouldn’t treat me like everyone else. Instead they treated me like a leper for some reason unbeknownst to me. They called me names like “retard” and “freak.” And they laughed at me in a symphonic chorus when I failed to return an effective insult. But oh how I wanted to ride in that go-cart.
Attempting to ignore their presence, I settled back into my nest and opened my book. But the book could have been upside down for all I knew. No matter how hard I tried to focus on the words, my eyes kept moving up and looking over the page, to where the kids were playing. Their presence was like a magnet, pulling my attention unforgivably without a break in time.
I felt so sad sitting there all alone in my bird’s nest. I felt like a fool. There I was with dirty bare feet and a stained tye dye t-shirt, while the girls I wanted to play with, wore crisp white knee socks, hopping around doing double dutch, laughing and loving each other all the while. My friendships with imaginary people were like pieces of earth and mud in comparison to the fire of theirs. Theirs were real. And I was jealous. But I was also hurt, because they rejected me so often. How could I want to be friends with people who made fun of me? This irony left me feeling even more foolish and out of place.
I was lost in my thoughts and emotions, so, I didn’t notice a boy come up to me. There I was staring stupidly into a tree thinking my thoughts, with my mouth hanging open, when he said “wake up, freak.” I turned to look at him, all five feet of him. He had curly brown hair and an arrogant smile on his pale white face. His t-shirt informed me that he played baseball for some little league Dodgers team, while, his dirty hands showed me he liked to played ruff. I was scared. This was the boy who’d laughed his hardest once when I fell off the monkey bars and busted my lip open. I was crying hysterically out of shock and all he did was laugh. Instinctively I had called out for my Mother who was miles away at work. He laughed even harder at this, but only until the teacher came rushing over to my aid. I hated this boy.
“What do you want,” I said with attitude. “I just want to play,” he said innocently. I was literally speechless. I was shocked, by how genuine he seemed. I didn’t know what to say. “No you don’t,” I yelled on the side of caution. “Relax, butt head. I just think your nest is cool,” he said. I looked at him wearily. As if to put up a white flag, he asked me to teach him how to build one.
I was suddenly ecstatic. Here it was. The moment my Mother had promised me. The moment when someone actually wanted to be my friend. I was rushing around my yard helping him put together a nest when I decided to just give him mine. Giving up my nest and making a new one was very worth having a new friend I thought. He thanked me graciously. I was about half way through with the new nest when the girls that I secretly wanted to be friends with showed up. At first I was excited, because I thought that they would want to join us, but instead they chanted “Eeww” ceremoniously, saying “Jeremy loves Kim.” They laughed like little baby hyenas. I looked at Jeremy expecting him to yell back at them in my defense, I had given him my nest after all. But instead he just looked at me with disgust and informed the girls that he was just using me for my nest. They all laughed harder. And as they did so, my body temperature rose as my stomach dropped.
What world is this, I thought. Why is it that I can dream of such nice people, but they can’t exist? I was angry. No I was furious. No, better yet, I was ape shit insane. I screamed at them, as the straw broke my back. I had no restraint left in me. I suddenly felt free as I saw their laughs and smiles drop into frowns. “Shut up,” I screamed over and over. I felt wild and savage and oddly free. And I could tell that I was scaring them. Good, I thought. You deserve to feel small and threatened, just like you make me feel.
But, no. Jeremy refused to fall down to my wrath. Instead, he kicked a part my nests, grabbed my book and ran away with the girls going full speed. I saw them mount their bikes and peddle out of the cul-de-sac, snickering at my outburst all the while.
I refused to accept the situation. So, I raced after them, running as fast as my legs could go. I was no longer Kim. I was no longer human. No. I felt like I was the combined spirits of every kid who had ever been picked on relentlessly by other children. I felt hungry for justice. And they were my food.
After a few minutes of full fledge sprinting, I caught up with them. They were sifting through the very appealing furniture Mrs. Minowitz left out at her curb for trash pick-up two blocks down. I took advantage of the fact that they didn’t see me coming. I ran up right behind Jeremy and literally kicked him in the butt. “Give me my book back,” I screamed at them through angry tears, dust from the day’s work caked onto my face. I was shaking. They noticed this and laughed once again, but this time there was a sense of fear in their laugh. They saw the raging beast in me ready to depart from its cage, ready to take back what had been stolen so viciously.
“No,” he yelled defiantly. He looked me up and down as if to judge what he saw in front of him. Sizing me up, he said quietly “You stole this book from me.” Before I knew what I was doing I started kicking him and punching him, screaming, “I hate you, you liar, give me my book back.” The last words seemed to fall off the cliff I was holding up with my anger. They parachuted down through my sadness and crumbled in my tears. The girls just stood there, showing no sympathy. True monsters, I thought as I attempted to catch my breath.
But before I could think anything more or say anything, Jeremy chucked the book forward at me. It soared straight toward me with fierceness and hit me hard in my chest. The book’s spine hurt as it collided with my sudden inability to breathe.
And then they ran. They ran fast and hard away from me down the street. But I didn’t care. All I thought about was how pathetic the book looked on the ground a page torn and crumpled at my feet from harsh handling. I saw my Mother’s face, a somewhat distorted reflection of my own, flash inside my head. She was happy and smiling, as I looked at the book for the first time. It was a present from her. I fell to my knees, right there in the street and picked it up. I cradled it and felt grief pour through my veins like cold water from a faucet. I felt grief for the book. And I felt grief for myself. This wasn’t the life I imagined. Sitting there, in the midst of the other kid’s dust with my dirty feet and hands, I cried without restraint. And I felt my heart break for myself. I felt my spirit truly crumble into a million little insignificant pieces for the very first time.

Who's excited?

2009-09-18T09:37:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Woodstock

2009-09-15T10:05:00.000-07:00

I have met a wonderful guy who I really like and who just happens to like me back. It all started with a cigarette. I was at this woodstock party off campus where you dress like a hippie, smoke pot, and drink cheap beer all night. The house was really trippy. They had a huge big screen tv that played footage of the real woodstock all night and they had music from the 60s just flooding the air. The ambiance was perfect. And of course there was some pong. Well, since I am indeed addicted to smoking, I had to step outside to smoke. And there he was. Smoking himself. We started talking and then stayed there talking for like two hours. We talked about everything. Life. Love. Depression. Religion. Politics. Drugs. It was rather magical.

The party was eventually busted by the cops, so, we ran away together with our friend Isabelle. We all went back to her house to drink some more. When all of a sudden I see two of my "friends" walk out with handles (bottle so big they need handles, just in case you don't know) and start walkign around campus. SO STUPID. cops are everywhere. I go to school in the middle of a rather metropolitan city where crime occurs, quite often to say the least. So, yeah, cops... are everywhere. And they're just walking around drunk and oblivious. Anyway, I chase after them to tell them to stop when all of a sudden cops jump out of the bushes and yell at us to stop. I swear to god, my heart skipped a beat in that moment. My stomache dropped and all I could think about was being arrested after doing a breathilizer. Well, as these thoughts race through my mind the boys throw the handles over a fence and one of them starts running from the cops. yes, he fucking ran and left me and theother boy in his dust. I thought I was going to either cry or pee my pants. The cops ran toward us and demanded the boys name, which I gave, hoping it would get me out of trouble. But they still wouldn't let me go. I started to beg a little and they yelled at me to stop talking, but finally after much yelling at me and giving the other boy a citation they let us go. I wasn't in trouble thank God. But I found out later that the boy who ran was eventually found, tackled, and arrested. yikes.

Anyway, I called miles right away and he met me in the middle within seconds. He wrapped his arms around me as I shook. He even picked a flower off a tree to make me feel better. I was grateful.

Since that night, miles and I have hung out non stop. He's kind of amazing. He doesn't care that my room looks like a disaster site littered with books and paper scraps. He doesn't care that I'm always hungry. And he makes me feel beautiful. Sometimes we just lay in my bed, silently, listening to the lyrics of good music. It's the best feeling.

I am very excited to see where this goes.

I can relate.

2009-09-13T14:20:00.000-07:00

Today will be better I swear.

2009-09-11T12:37:00.000-07:00

"you've got a fast car, but is it fast enough so you could fly away? you've gotta make a decision. you leave tonight or live and die this way."

So, all I've been doing since school started is fucking school. I've taken no breaks to pleasure myself with phone calls to friends or trips to the gym. I've just been working. peck. peck. pecking away at my computer. I take smoke breaks, yes, to listen to my ipod. But everything else is dedicated to school. And that makes me feel zombie-esque, especially since most of what my school work centers on is only moderately challenging shit that takes hours to memorize. On the weekends, when I'm finally done, I just chase after freedom from school. I suck it down until I forget about all my obligations. And usually I drink until I'm shitfaced or lying in my underwear next to some snoring guy in some random bedroom on a street whose name I never know. This is not good. And it's obvious enough that I don't need to explain why. I mean, living life that way is fucked up and it will screw you over in the end. My liver will fail me. My mind will rot. And I might lose my hair. It sounds fun, and it is fun for a little bit, but after awhile... it just gets old, and the hangovers, get painfully familiar, and you just get tired of it all.

Anyway, this weekend I plan to change. I plan to better myself. I will only drink 'till I glow and get sloppy. I will not drink until I'm leaning over a toilet. I will not make out with strangers. And I will not make a fool of myself. And when Monday comes, I will relax. I will take everything in stride and I will not let myself get overwhelmed with the need to produce perfection. Like I said, I will relax. And I'll sleep peacefully. My life will be better... hopefully.

I'm starting to feel silly though with all these goals. I want so much to change. I want everything. And that scares me, because wanting to change everything means getting rid of all that I have. And I'm not sure whether I'm ready to get rid of the manic, pot smoking, writer/wreck of a freaky, and dark, and twisty girl. Weird, huh?

Sometimes I feel like I don't even know who I am anymore. I'm at an age where the things I make habits of will begin to deifne what type of adult I will be. So, I'm going crazy trying to figure out not only who I am, but what I want to be, and what I don't want to be.

Right now, I just want to be a strong, educated woman who I can be proud of. I don't know if this lady will smoke or not and I don't know if she'll run 5 miles a day and swim laps to stay healthy. I just know that she'll be proud of herself. This is all I'm sure of.

P.S. I ahve to write a short story about childhood for my creative writing class. I will post the whole thing on here soon, but for now, I'll leave you with a little clip that sort of captures what the story is about. But I will tell you ahead of time that it's about a little girl who's constantly picked on and eventually stands up for herself.

Alright clip goes as follows:

What world is this, I thought. Why is it that I can dream of such nice people, but they can’t exist? I was angry. No I was furious. No, better yet, I was ape shit insane. I screamed at them, as the straw broke my back. I had no restraint left in me. I suddenly felt free as I saw their laughs and smiles drop into frowns. I felt wild and savage like. And I could tell that I was scaring them. Good, I thought. You deserve to feel small and threatened, just like you make me feel.
But, no. Jeremy refused to fall down to my wrath. Instead, he kicked a part my nests, grabbed my book and ran away with the girls going full speed. I saw them mound their bikes and peddle out of the cul-de-sac, snickering nervously all the while.
I refused to accept the situation. So, I raced after them, running as fast as my legs could go. I was no longer Kim. I was no longer human. No. I felt like I was the combined spirits of every kid who had ever been picked on relentlessly by other children. I felt hungry for justice. And they were my food.

Sooo, what do you think? Too intense? Too lame? Let me know.

Some days are better than others.

2009-09-10T20:44:00.000-07:00

It started with rain, no, more like drizzle this morning. I stupidly left my building wearing soffees and flip flops to go to the cafeteria during what was basically a shower of rain. I was cold, wet, tired, and cranky. Then when I got to the cafeteria, they were all out of bacon... my favorite breakfast food. I had to eat cereal instead. alas, I get back to my room and realize I am running late for class. So, I rush to shower and put on what I hope was an atleast semi- attractive outfit. I was in a bad mood this morning. All I wanted to do was wear all black and just sit in class with a hat and sunglasses on with coffee hoping to blend in with the wall. But no...my Latin teacher tells everyone we're doing skits today. So, now, I can't just blend in with the wall, no, now I have to actually get in front of the class and act (I played the narrator). ugh. Then I get to the cafeteria for lunch and I spill a glob of mustard and ketchup and mayo (all mixed together) in the crotch of my jeans. lameo shlamo. what a troublesome day.

2009-09-08T18:08:00.000-07:00

"That's why her hair's so big...It's full of secrets."

2009-09-08T17:24:00.000-07:00

I just now realized (like a week later) that a few people have given me one of those blog awards. So, er, cheers to some random facts about moi.

1. When I was little and I couldn't sleep I'd make both my parents come in to my room and sing me to sleep. But instea dof the typical lullabyes most kids got, my parents would sing "Under the board walk" to me. lolz. They just randomly picked it one night and I fell in love. I insisted on it every time after that. My dad would scratch my back while he and my mom just laughed and sang. Those are honestly some of my best childhood memories. I am the third of four children. So, to have attention like that from both mom and dad is a big deal. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WXIom2IT1M&feature=related

2. I love birds and trees. If ever I get a tatoo, I promise you, it will pertain to either a bird or a tree. I don't know why I love those symbols so much. I just know that every time I see a picture of a bird or a beautiful oak tree, I feel safe and complete.

3. I love it when people use "mother fucking" as an adjective... 0.o

4. I am a smoker.

5. I'd like to go to Hong Kong one day and eat spring rolls. Then I'd like to go to Russia and where super tight black pants with a striped turtle neck. I'd wear dark red lip stick and drink whisky all day.

6. I like it when people are good at accepting compliments. For once I'd like someone to say, "why, thank you" instea dof "ohmygosh, no, way, I look so fat."

7. I'm not good at being around mean people. my skins not so tuff.

There is nothing quite like college football.

2009-09-06T06:35:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to my school's first football game in basically 60 years. Tailgaters were everywhere. And the smell of bbq and pride created the perfect ambiance. My school is huge and therefore our campus is huge, but that didn't matter the campus was still completely covered with tailgaters and blue shirted people with face paint and confetti. Then when we got to the stadium the most exciting things started to ahppen. Well, first of all, I must add that tickets were sold out. So there was not an empty seat anywhere. Then two guys jumped from an airplane and parachutted down to the field all the while doing flips and spins and other cool things. I posted some pictures of it. When the kickoff came, canons went off (the area surrounding my campus is all about some military bases, hard core Navy shit). The game ended with fireworks and the spirit of a win. A good time was had by all.

busy bee on amphetamines

2009-09-04T09:17:00.000-07:00

Hola amigos. As you can tell from the title of this post, I have been ridiculously busy. And as such, I have missed out on the simple pleasures of blogging and talking to my best friends on the phone (sorry kait!). And at this moment I am feeling rushed seeing as I only have twenty more minutes to surf ze web and blog, before i have to go to my bio lab.

Well, as I've posted before, I want to become more active this year. I want to make new friends and do stuff. Last year, all I did was homework, hangout with my roommate, homework, and hangout with my roommate... which was nice and all, but it could've been better.

So far, I've tried out for club soccer. I went to the informational meeting and got all these handouts and met a lot of new people that seem really nice. Practice starts next week, yikes! I'm not really nervous about conditioning, because I already run three 1/2 miles at the gym everyday and lift weights. What I'm nervous about is working with the ball. The only experience I have with soccer is one season of JV. And I wa son the bench that whole time! I think it'll work out though for the best, because I'm going to work really hard and do everything the coach tells me. That should be good enough, right? Anyway, I have to act as a ball girl tonight for the real girl's soccer team.

Besides that, I applied for Fall Formal Greek Rush week. Oh my goodness so nerve racking. Each day is full of meets and greets, but you only get to progress with it throughout the week if you're invited back. So, lets say some sororities invite me back on Tuesday and then change their mind. I won't be able to go back on wednesday. If no one bids on me, I don't join a sorority. It's all up to them. I hope they like me. My mom and I are going shopping for some new shit, that way I'll have some cute dresses. One of my greek friends said it's important to look and act memorable at these things. If you don't stand out, they won't remember you and thus will not invite you back. zo scary. But I'm not too worried, because even if I don't make it, I still have great friends ( even if not very many) to spend my time with.

There are so many more things I have to say about these two topics and a bunch more to bring up, but alas I have no time to do it at this moment. And therefore, will write back when I do.

Adios amigos.

oh jeeze

2009-08-31T01:35:00.000-07:00

Ugh. I can't sleep. And that's truly a pity, because classes start tomorrow morning. I guess I'm just a little too excited. I keep waking up every three hours or so.

Anyway, I don't have much to write about, because nothing very out of the ordinary's happened since my last post. But I guess I can describe my classes.

1. American Lit. Pre- 1860: I am so excited for this class, because it focuses on exactly what I want to do with my life. I love learning about U.S. History and the culture and I adore literature. So, this is a great combination of what I love. This is a subject that I'd eventually like to teach (I think).

2. Into to Creative Writing: Oh boy, Oh boy. This one's going to be a doozy. While, I love to write research papers and newspaper articles, I'm not so good at creative writing. Creative writing requires maturity. You need to be able to synthesize your feelings and make them beautiful. I don't know if I can do that. Still, I've always planned to write a novel before I die. So, this will help me do that. And supposedly the prof. I'm taking it with is amazing. Like, you can google him and the first three pages are all about him. People even taped him reading his poetry and posted it on youtube. lol. Here's a little clip. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ToVJ3d26Vfo

3. Biology- 'nuff said.

4. Women Writers: This one will be interesting. It focuses on the female writer and her views on motherhood and life as a women. Now, when I signed up for the class I thought I'd be learning about Sylvia Plath's life or something. But guess not. Oh well. We'll see. I'm just a little nervous, because we have over ten novels to read in one semester...

5. Latin: Latin's going to be my foreign language. I know that sounds crazy difficult, but it's actually not that bad. Since I've purchased the textbook, I've been finding it rather easy to pick up. And according to rate my professor, the teacher is amazing too. I'm exciteddd.

Alright, I'm going to attempt the impossible, by trying to get back to sleep. Wish me luck:)

just bust that shit

2009-08-30T19:43:00.000-07:00

I love college...

2009-08-27T14:22:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been awhile since I last posted something. And that's not because I haven't had anything to write about. On the contrary, I've had so many blog worthy experiences since my last post that I feel like my head is spinning.

Well, to start with I went on vacation with my family last week. A good time was had by all. We went to the beach and stayed in this apartment my dad rented for a week. It had this wall made out of glass that offers you a perfect view of the ocean. Everyday, we'd start off with breakfast at some cozy pancake house, then we'd go to the beach and splash wildly around the ocean. Once the sand in our bathing suits got to be too much (we all hate the feeling of being covered by sand in my family), we'd head over to the b-e-a-u-tiful pool. Then we'd all go back to the apartment and shower up and head out to eat. We ate at some of the most interesting restaurants. For example, there was one restuarant that centered on world cuisine. It was this huge place full of buffet style tables and each row of buffet tables represented a different culutre. It was so informational and delicious:)

The morning after we got back, was spent loading my dad's truck up with all my jank for school. The drive took about two hours due to traffic. ew. Once we got to my room I started unloading everything and enthusiastically setting my stuff up. Then after some swift kisses on the cheek, my parents and brother left. I had the whole apartment to myself, because 2 of my 4 roommates didn't move in until the next day. So, I spent the first night of my sophomore year in solitude, soaking up the feeling of independence. I'd post pictures, but I left my camera at home.

The next day, I walked all around the campus to reacquaint myself with it. Then I stopped by the bookstore and picked up my ridiculously over priced textbooks that I probably should've purchased on amazon. *sigh* Well, as I was leaving the store, heavy bag in each hand, my roommate cynthia called me, and somehow I managed to talk and walk with all those books at the same time. She let me know she was in the apartment and I raced back to see her and jump around with joy, because that is how much we love being around each other. We spent the next couple of hours unloading her car and setting her stuff up. Once we finished our other roommate arrived and we started all over again!

Since then, I've done many things, but the most memorable would be waiting in line for tickets to my school's very first football game. For some reason my school just never had a team, but all of a sudden it does and people are going crazzzy with excitement. The tickets went on sale at 10am, but a huge line of people had already gathered the night before with tents! yes, tents! I did not camp out. But I did wait in the miles of line the next morning. I was so worried for weeks that I wouldn't get a ticket to what would surely be one of the biggets events of our school year. But I did! Mission was accomplished. It only took standing in line for freaking forever in a corwded and sweltering atmosphere outside.

Besides the football tickets my friends and I have basically been doing cliche things like getting drunk, smoking hookah, playing cranium, and eating sushi.

I have so many plans for this semester. I'm going to make it amazing. I signed up for our college's club soccer team. Hopefully, I'll make it. And I've considered joining a sorority. All of this is nerve racking yet exciting. And I'm still writing for the school's newspaper.

"All of us failed to match our dreams of perfection. So I rate us on the basis of our splendid failure to do the impossible." - William Faulkner

2009-08-13T00:57:00.000-07:00

I can't sleep and I don't know why. I've done everything I can to exhaust my body, but it's all to no avail. I went running right before taking my sleeping pill and not even that worked. Now, it's 4am. My eyes burn and my muscles are tired, but my mind is racing on wildly. I hate being in this condition where your mind and body won't agree. Sometimes I feel like my brain is this wild horse that refuses to be tamed... like flika.

Anyway, I go back to school soon and that is absolutely exciting. I am so ready to start a fresh new semester full of english classes that I'll actually enjoy as opposed to classes like Algebra that I dreaded.

This semester, I'm forcing myself to get out more. Instead of just slouching around my dorm, I'm going to make more friends and go to more school events like football games.

I'm tired of hating the way my life is. It's time for me to take more control. All I ever do is day dream about how things can be better. Well, now it's my goal to match my dreams to reality.

Wish me luck.

2009-08-11T17:47:00.000-07:00

"It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. And that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in." - American Beauty

I am, indeed, a nerd

2009-08-10T22:45:00.000-07:00

As I said in my last post, I've mostly been loafing around since I quit my job. I've just been stretching out on my comfortable matress and watching movies instantly on netflix while eating almond joys and drinking lemonade all day. It's a good life. I finished watching all the seasons of the wonderful show Weeds and now I'm watching my way though the incredibly addictive seasons of Law and Order:SVU. Gosh... that show never ceases to catch my attention. All the characters are so exquisitely multi-dimensional. Even the five second appearance of the medical examiner intrigues me. But my favorite character is the kick ass forensic psychologist Dr. Haung! O M G. He always offers so much insight. It's like he can read the perp or vicitims mind just by looking at a crime scene. I used to want to do his job, but then I really thought about it and I'd take fiction over reality any day. The real thing is so horrifying.

2009-08-06T21:27:00.000-07:00

Ever since i made the bold, not so rationale choice, to quit my job... my life has been amazingly relaxing. I lay in bed all day and read books and watch weeds and hang out with friends and go to paneras with my mom. For the first time, in such a long time, i feel very well rested. It's such a good feeling to lay back in bed and know that you don't have any pressing obligations. It's weeks like these that make me dread the idea of entering the work world where i'll be surrounded by never ending responsibilities. I guess I'll just take advantage of it now.

K. Bell: Fast Food Addict

2009-08-05T13:52:00.000-07:00

2009-08-03T22:49:00.000-07:00

This show is like a page turner in the book world. You just can't stop watching it. I love it. It takes place in this suburban part of california where the adults light up as much as the teenagers do. She plays a widowed mother who resorts to selling weed. This show is definitely worth the time.

2009-08-02T21:02:00.000-07:00

2009-08-01T13:59:00.000-07:00

Alright, Kaitlyn wants me to post 7 interesting things about myself...So, here it goes...

1. My parents named me Kimberly Theresa after my Grandmother Theresa. She was actually named after St. Theresa who is the patron saint of all small things (aka the little flower saint). Isn't that cool? I plan to pass on the name in some way to one of my daughters to keep it going.
2. When I was waiting on tables this summer, I was always so tempted to lie to the customers about my life. When they would inquire about my life, asking things like, "where ya' from" I always wanted to say something like South Africa instead of boring old williamsburg. I just wanted to mix things up every once in awhile since I knew i'd never see those people again.
3. I really want the purple comforter Bella had in the movie twilight...0.o
4. I want to be buried in a good pair of flats.
5. I want a cat named bob dylan and a dog named romeo.
6. I lovelovelove riding through old neighborhoods. For some reason, unknown to me, I am obsessed with real estate. Whenever, I'm at WaWas I grab those magazines with pictured homes for sale. And I just drool over all the different types of houses there are. I can't explain it. Looking at houses makes everything fit together inside me.
7. I can't live without wendy's, dr.pepper, and the chinese food restaurant called Hong Kong around the corner from my house. chicken sandwichs, lo mein, and pork fried rice make my heart skip a beat<3 Seriously, you have no idea how often I hit those places up. I'm going to say between the two, maybe 3x a week.

yay

2009-07-31T16:08:00.000-07:00