Blink And You Miss A Beat

I'll take retaliation for 500, Alex.

2008-11-16T20:26:00.000-08:00

So, okay.
Life's an asshole. Really, right? I'm definitely not proposing the idea of looking at it as "half full" anytime soon. At least not at the moment. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a good week this week, so stay tuned.

Dave's sentencing ended up being more than what he was supposed to get, but less than what he should've got, if that made sense. I mean, yeah, it definitely could've been a fuckton worse, but now that he's in for 3-5 months - what he's going to miss out on really sucks (Christmas with his kids, his 30th birthday, his kids' birthdays, my birthday and so on).

I got an email from one of my best friends (circa 7th grade, folks. crazy!) two weeks ago, and she informed me of her mother being in the hospital, and the outlook was lookin' rather grim. Unfortunately, "ma" - as I called her since my pre-pubescent years - passed away this past week, causing my emotional downward spiral to go a little bit faster. Sigh.
At least she isn't suffering anymore, but I can't imagine losing my mom so soon, ya know? I can't help but wonder how my friend is feeling right now, or her dad for that matter.

So much love in that family, it was something to be envied.

I'm getting serious on the scholastic front, which will be nice to report to the parentals. I'm going to start lurking about the campuses downtown to see what I need to do in order to hop back on the bandwagon and such. Should be fun and fucking scary all at once. Insert slight nod with a smile.

Baaaaaah. Other than that, I've been working on preparations for the upcoming snow ridiculousness that will be approaching soonlike. That, and getting a Christmas shopping list together for my dear loved ones, since I had to skip Christmas last year (I felt like such a douche!).

See?
I don't even sound exciting, even after skipping - what, a month? - of writing and updating.

Oh! Halloween. DEFINITELY awesome. I participated in the zombie walk in Grand Rapids (pwned Pittsburgh by a landslide... I just said "pwned"), went to a ridiculous Halloween party (Devil with a blue dress = most frustrating costume to find things for that doesn't make me out to look like a whore or a dunce, ever.) and spat blood on people for Day of The Dead with The Necrophilicons.

This just in: Dave might be getting out after 45 days after all, like originally planned! That'd be awesome.

I'm a loser with nothing much more to say.
How are you kind folks?!

I miss you [all]. (you know who you are.)

I'm voiding humanity for awhile.

2008-10-12T19:46:00.000-07:00

So things were flawless and wonderful and naive and "glass half full"...
And then things began to crumble and buckle.
Where am I anymore?
I feel like I'm running out of time, despite my ripe age.
Everyone I know... I feel as though they've passed "Go".
I'm stuck in "Jail", and I don't have a way out.
Don't you have to roll doubles to get out?
Well, I haven't been playing Monopoly enough to remember...
I failed with explaining my analogy.

I'm blank, numb, void.
My tear ducts don't work anymore, even though I want them to.
But I'm sick of being emotional.
It's retarded!
I'm happy, and when something goes wrong, it takes me over like a disease.

It's rough when the ones you love dearly can't get you out of the funk anymore like they used to.

I give up.

I'm very, badly, injured.
In other news.
Went to a show last night, and got knocked the fuck down, and down pretty hard.
Bruises, cuts, blood, possible bruised and/or cracked bone action.
I'm a mess.

I need to get the fuck out of here.
Just for awhile.

The Suburban Pirate Show

2008-10-02T07:58:00.001-07:00

This week's special announcement from yours truly, Brimmy:
So it's obvious that I won't be attending Street Dogs in Detroit tonight, but! I will be playing the best there is in underground music from all over the world, and will have some possible special guests!

So tune in, kick back, and enjoy the show, airing tonight at 5pm est!
only ON brimstoneradio. com!

Much love and thanks for the support,
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The Suburban Pirate

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REPOST!

yeah, well.

2008-09-28T00:18:00.000-07:00

No update at all, really. A few key things, but not really much to write a few paragraphs about. How about a laundry list?

- Went camping with a skinhead
- It sucked
- Black Cats played in "Narnia"
- Was okay.
- Aunt died
- That sucks.
- Almost got arrested
- Holy shit, thank the stars.
- entered in a PBR art contest
- thank you, Mulligan's.
- everyone's cutting their hair
- seriously, no more dreads, man?
- show at The Clique
- was fun.
- distracting myself as much as possible
- must. take. more. photos.
- Halloween is soon.
- yay.
- been at my crap job for a year.
- what's up, paid vacation?
- had a horrible dream the other night
- made me feel horribly lonely.

...I'm a scandalous catastrophe.
it's cool. I'll live with the superlative.

over and out.

no subject.

2008-09-18T23:05:00.000-07:00

I am plagued by the best memories of you.
If you look at the inventory, that's basically all of them.
I wonder if you ever feel the same, or even felt the same, a time back then.
I never knew if you did.
And that simply saddens me to believe my own paranoia.
Prove it wrong, so I feel right.

and every breath is like the one before...

2008-09-04T20:18:00.001-07:00

Such events can make it all seem so catastrophic. I really do like that word, being that I have used it frequently in the past couple of weeks. After some recent emotional injuries, I'm confused as to how to get back to square one on life's proverbial gameboard. I've noticed that I've taken to the bottle a bit, as if it were a new best friend. Scary, when you think about it.

I simply have a hard time accepting reality. I live in my own little world, but it's okay. They know me there well enough. I'm not saying that I'm in denial with a lot of things; it just takes me a bit of time to move on and work on making me and me alone happy.

I have a hard time being alone, though. I have an even harder time feeling alone in a house full of people. Which is where I wander to blame myself with little, miniscule things, not arguing even if I had a clear defense, and crumpling up my face when I look away from everyone.

I am so damned irresponsible with my life, it's sickening. I get why I scare people away. I'm a danger zone. I don't go to school, I work bullshit jobs, my friends question me (not all, but some), and I hide things from my family when I hate doing that.

I'm sure you've noticed by now I'm on some kind of "me" complex, but it's therapeutical for me to write, so deal.

I've been reminiscing too much into the past, and it's scaring me, because although there's a lot of good I could be thinking back on, I've done nothing but thinking about the times that were good in the past but hurt me now. I don't get where I think that helps me when I'm trying to clear my head, but it's like an annoying friend that just won't get the hint.

I actually thought about a time when I actually went to my mother for help and she turned the television volume up and ignored my plea, when I told her I wanted to kill myself (no, this wasn't recent, don't worry). That hurts me still, to this day. I don't think of doing such a thing now, since I'm stronger than that, even if it doesn't seem that way now, but to think that my own mother ignored me when I wanted her the most... that kills me anyway. I don't even know what brought that on, but I guess a part of me wants to throw that in her face one day.

But again, I wouldn't bring myself to do that.

On the bright side, I have been trying my damndest keep in contact with friends not so close in location to me; it just sucks when everyone has such weird schedules, or the other person fails to reciprocate (that hurts, by the way.). Sure, I work two jobs and do the radio thing and take pictures and have friends here, but I at least find at least one fucking day a week to try and call or write and I don't get anything in return. What happened, there?
Disclaimer: That was only pertaining to very few, not to the entire gang. Those who are exempt to that mild lashing know who you are.

I have some great friends here that have been keeping me around :) I managed to have a very fun Labor Day with some pallies, along with one that I'm starting to know a bit more, since I've been seeing him around lately. They convinced me to drink whiskey with them on the front lawn. The set-up looked like one hell of a lemonade stand. We were just missing the sign that said so. Although, the bums that roam Eastern Avenue wouldn't have cash to spare for a shot of Canada House. We ended up recording our antics throughout the night, but our timing and supplies were rather off, since we started recording when we were sober (not really funny conversations there) and ran out of cassette recording time. Bummer. However, that won't be the last time.

I'm beginning to feel a bit better as I write this.
I just keep reciting, over and over in my head, that I need some drastic change. I need to either get a new job, a new hobby, go on a fucking date, start a band, go on a vacation... something! It needs to happen rather soon.

In a perfect world, I wouldn't have gotten myself into the shit debt that I had, would have a decent job while going to school for something pretty cool, have a best friend that doesn't act as though he resents me all the time, have some money in the bank, a solid relationship with my family, and perhaps a great relationship with a great guy. I'm scared this will never happen, even though I assure myself on an optimistic scale that it can; I'm just too stubborn and impatient, though. It's a shitty double-standard I have to hurdle over.

Sometimes, though, you just gotta ask for a hug.
That's all that it may take.

Need.

2008-08-25T21:41:00.001-07:00

I need people to be honest with me, and the count is lookin' real small.

Write to me, people.

Tell me how YOU feel, or how you felt in the past.
It's killing me inside to never know these answers, but...

...I can't mouth them out over a telephone line.

oh yeah, and... Drunk Dreams

2008-08-21T16:54:00.000-07:00

I actually wrote a poem with magnetic fridge poetry. Shit.
This was on the last night of Fatty and Sherm leaving. One of 'em at least.

If you read it enough times and you're drinking in the process, it makes sense.

Drunk Dreams
Wild woman rendezvous
I understand beyond paper
The beautiful drunk flame
A kiss hurt my game desire
So cry
Take nothing
Promise high
So sit girl
Stomach his word
And inhale whatever
When not want
Sleep can fight
Fool.
I think excellence
Remember, summer of regret
Here, hope is needed
Go, woman.

Quite possibly my best work yet. I'm a nonsensical human being that likes a good hug every once in awhile. Dish 'em out, will ya?

Cripes.

I miss everyone all too much. But I'm scared to pick up the phone anymore.

What the fuck happened to me?!

2008-08-21T13:16:00.000-07:00

I don't place blame on anyone but myself, but Jesus Christ, can I blame it on others? No. I couldn't even if I had permission to. Why make people feel as shitty as I fucking do right now?

It's unfair.

Why did I make the decisions I made? Why did I stay? Why did I screw up so. fucking. bad?

Why didn't I tell those that I loved that I loved them? Why am I glad that you left? That's the only one I can answer - because if you stayed, I would've fucked it up somehow.

FUCK!
This sucks.
I'm alone.

My family's all gone, my friends are all gone or something else that's moved them on, and I just have me. And I hate me right now.

I just want this pain to go away.
I'd rather get my ass kicked than to go through this pain I'm feeling now.

Retaliation and skull crushing.

2008-08-20T05:34:00.000-07:00

So I had to send Fatty, Sherm, and Goo (not quite the norm of names, is it?) with a tearful goodbye, when they departed for Ohio on Sunday. However, I think I was crying partly because of the horrible hangover I had to face off with, in preparation to work that very afternoon.

The ending to it all was bittersweet, for lack of a better term, watching the ever so [insert off-kilter adjective here] Dynaflo perform at a bar not so much to my liking. Although, I'd rather spend ten bucks on a pitcher of domestic beer than to go to a place that houses nothing but buttrock, and the very people that listen to just that.

Miki was there (how in the hell does she get away with beer in her hand when she's only 20? I never had that skill underage) and brought along some miscellaneous instruments, such as maracas, a kazoo (I'm embarrassed to say I haven't mastered the art of kazoo playing. I'm a tool.), and a tambourine.

I've got quite the tambourine hand as evidence now, what, with all the bruises and such from rocking out a little too hard.

Afterwards, Dynaflo Aaron and I went to the controversial liquor store (the same one I got groped at by some random a few weeks prior), and caused a "Marital Squabble" for the drunken spectators that were there as well to get their booze before 2 am.

Dynaflo: "We need to get more people to hang out with Patrick and Sherilyn. Call Carolyn (his sister)"
Me: "Oh dear, I don't have Carolyn's number."
Dynaflo: "WHAT?! What kind of wife are you to not have your sister-in-law's fucking phone number?! Jesus Nicole, I'm sick of this shit!"
Me: "Well if you weren't so ASHAMED of me, maybe I'd know your family a bit more if, you know, you BROUGHT me over to meet them!?"
Dynaflo: "Was that a jab at me for living with my parents?"
Me: "No, no no. Aww hunny. I'm sorry. I love you! Now pay the good man for the cheap beer we're about to consume."
Dynaflo: "I'm sorry too. Let's never fight again."

And then we left. I never seen so many West-siders get shaken up that bad. You would think that was another walk in the park for them, but no.

So I was sorting through little storage boxes that I have sitting in the bathroom yesterday, and managed to discover that I own a lot of frickin' jewelry. And not just your average ring here, or a simple necklace there. I'm talking straight-up, super dressy, girly stuff. A lot of "bling" for lack of a better term.
I blame my sister on that one, since she was married a few times (the third one stuck!) and each time I was in her wedding.

What odd discoveries.

I'm going to do an overhaul on a couple more rooms today, being that my hours got cut from both jobs so I have nothing better to do with my time. It's been a nice vacation or so to speak, but I really could use a better check.

Everybody's working for the weekend

2008-08-12T09:57:00.000-07:00

Oh, work.
Where should I begin in that Bitching Department? I mean, don't get me wrong, this has been a decent summer and all, but shitdang. I worked way too much in a two-and-a-half week span, and I'm surprised I made it through. A lot of people, in a general sense, would look at me and reply to my bitching as retardation, but when you work two, count 'em, two customer service jobs, it's no bueno for the Sanity Scale.

Then, my boss, bless his heart because he's so damn kickass and whathaveyou, informs me that I'm on an "occupational probation" because my sales have been, indeed lacking, which I will admit to, I am having a slow couple of weeks plus a lot of personal BS getting in the way, but shit. That's a lot of pressure to take in on a day off, especially when you have a mere three shifts to make up for it.

So I don't know quite what to do.
I hear priceline.com just moved its way into the Mitten, so we shall see how to go about that as far as submitting a good 'ole app goes. Unfortunately, I'd have my whole ass in the door if I was bi-lingual. I am, just in english and sarcasm, I'm afraid.

Coping with the Spinsterhood
Not an easy task. It really isn't, truth be told. I was just so comfortable with feeling a different kind of love than what friends or family could offer, and fate just deals a weird hand at times. I'm not blaming anyone here, it's just how it all works out, but I can't say that it doesn't suck feeling lonely. I miss waking up next to someone that gives two shits about me, something as simplistic as holding hands makes me ache a bit, or not being the odd one out in a group of happy couples.

Suffice to say, I am known to be a bit of a hopeless romantic, and I always have had a curiosity how my life would play out, if real life could mesh well with a happy movie ending. Ya catchin' what I'm throwin'?

Bah, don't listen to my dribble about girly stuff and love. It gets old to all of you, I'm sure. I said listen. I meant "read". My bad. I keep forgetting I have a stylistic way of writing as if I'm talking to someone in a conversation.

I was actually told that in high school by a fellow peer and it was one of the best compliments I ever recieved. He continued on saying, "it's as if you don't even try at all, it just comes to you."

You've got a friend in me
I feel like a complete asshole when it comes to my friends as of late. I apologize, sincerely, for not keeping in astute contact with the likes of you, amidst my crazy work schedule and scaling out the differences in my own flaws. I hope to get the ball rolling as far as being a better friend for lack of a better term. Just give me some time.

...and the whole Dave thing. Needless to say, I haven't been home much. Not because I don't want to be around him at all or because I hate his guts for wanting to spend time with his lady, that's not true at all. I guess I'm freaked out as to what's going to happen, and as a coward I don't want to come to terms with it. It's a real scary situation. I don't know if he understands that, but regardless, I love him to death and I don't know what I'd do or who I'd be without him making such an impact as much as he did, in a lot of good ways and in some bad ways.

Why the title of the blog, you ask? Dave and I were watching a mockery video of "Working for the Weekend" by Loverboy via youtube.com, for the sheer fact that he's in search of the perfect song to cover for the new Beat-Ups album. Hilarious. Go give it a looksee.

For now, I'm going to do some overdue cleaning of my room, along with writing some much needed letters.

someone got a haircut

2008-07-19T13:05:00.000-07:00

and it was totally me.

Sara (no H, a-thank you) is one bitchin' lady, and if you're ever in the need of a sweet haircut, Douglas J Aveda style, go to her! I have her info if you're serious.

Anyway, here's the new 'do.

Nevermind the cheesy grin I tried to work out. I can't force smiles well.

But hey, I am incredibly happy; this month has been really good to me, of course really bad too, but that's all in the past, am I right? Things can only get better from here.
I got to see Kev, been hanging out with friends non-stop, spending as much time with Dave as I can, working, camping, seeing the niece, seeing the Midg - who, by the way, introduced me to the book/documovie "The Secret". Amazing. I dig.

And now, I work.

ONE WEEK AWAY!

2008-07-15T09:33:00.001-07:00

Show Us Your Art 3
Brickfish
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Free Dirty Dave

2008-07-01T11:55:00.001-07:00

The image above is for you to repost, for the allegations he is facing at this time are complete and utter bullshit, to be blunt. If you don't know what the hell I'm talking about, then I'll fill you in.

He wants you to write, so do so!
I have the address, ask for it.

But yeah, with a 10 buck donation, you get a shirt for free.
This money will go towards hiring a lawyer for upcoming trials so we can set him free.

If you're second-guessing yourself in helping Dave out, then I don't wish to call you a friend of mine. You need to reconsider and sit down and think about all the shit he has done for you either directly or indirectly.

Also, go to www.brimstoneradio.com for more info - there's a link to paypal if you wish to simply donate some cash.

It means a lot to me in regards to those who are already asking for shirts - I, along with Dirty Dave and his close friends and family appreciate it as well.

Also!
If you already reserved a shirt, and haven't given me any info, DO SO! I'll need your name(s), address, and shirt size.

you can either send a paypal payment via brimstoneradio.com, and then email me to let me know you had, or snail mail your payment to us!

Brimstone Radio
Free Dirty Dave shirts!
4456 West Grand Blvd NW
Grand Rapids, MI 49534

As Dave would say whenever he has a new, innovative idea:
"I'm down for the cause!"

Boycott bullshit!

There's a void.

2008-06-27T07:45:00.000-07:00

Sure, we bickered like a married couple, but we appreciated each other.
Sure, we shouted, but we appreciated... each other.
Sure, we cursed each other under our breaths, but we fucking appreciated each other.

He is my best friend. He is my other half. He is my gypsy.
So Dave is on a "vacation to Iowa" of sorts, for defending himself when nobody else would. When called me Saturday morning to let me know, I was upset at first until he told me key parts of the story, and yes, I probably would've done the same thing if I was about to be jumped by a bunch of douchebags.

The initial shock of it all wore off quickly when Amber called and asked if I was handling it okay. She followed up with a statement along the lines of, "I figured you'd be hysterical by now".
I was saving face for the sake of him.

Throughout the night after my radio show last night, it was a lot of reminiscence in my head going on. We got to the point to "prepare" him by watching a picture slideshow of his childhood. This was most likely the first time, besides his ugly breakup with his long-term girlfriend, that I visually saw his heart break.
Which, in turn, made mine.

We also watched the Far From Finished show that we all put together a few weeks back, which got us laughing again. He then pounced on me while I was sitting on the couch and began to cry.

So much crying.

I asked him if he was scared. He said, "I'll be fine. It's you I'm worrying about. All I know is that you better take care of Brad or I swear to God I will kill you."

GOD!
This is unfair!

I keep replaying, over and over in my head, every conversation that I can recall with him. And it just keeps hurting.
The worst is reminiscing from only a mere few weeks ago, when he woke me up at six in the morning to give me a flower and to tell me he appreciated me.
The flower may be dried and withered, but I still have it.

THIS IS UNFAIR!

what the hell.

2008-06-21T10:16:00.001-07:00

Everyone leaves.
I'm not a fan.
I just got comfortable, and everyone leaves.

This sucks.

22 and not wearin' shoes, cuz it's... summertime

2008-06-15T13:59:00.000-07:00

I tend to reminisce of the past (naw, really?! no way.), and the other day I was thinking of when I was a kid, living in a townhouse with my brother, his best friend, my sister, her boyfriend, my mom, and my dog, how my mom never slept. I now begin to wonder why, because of course, as a kid, you're simplistically ignorant.

She used to wake me with the vaccuum at three in the morning when she had to work the next day. I would go downstairs and catch her, in the midst of random papers or contents of a cupboard or two, scrubbing away. Then she would huff for a minute, take a drag of a Virginia Slim 120, and notice me standing in the alcove, Barbie nightgown-clad and towing a stuffed animal.

Instead of shooing me off to bed, she let me stay up for awhile and watch her clean and give her suggestions of which figurine should go where. It's not because she didn't care whether I got sleep or not, it's because she wanted the company.

My mom, although strong because she had to be, raising four kids plus their tree branches of friends, was lonely. It's weird to think about, simply for the fact that I know she had friends then - the same friends that she has now.
Thank goodness for my [step]dad to get her out of that funk, that all-American story.

Back to reality sake, in the now,
Amber came to visit for a few days which made me happier than anything else as of late. We took her out to 80s night at the douchebag kingdom of all bars in downtown GR (with the exception of some I will simply NEVER set foot into) - The Drink. Now, I'm not hating on anyone here, but I won't be going back anytime soon. However, they did play some good music.

I'm not hating on friends that go there - I simply promised Gina that I'd go - and the first time I was there I had a great time.

However...
Those great times do cut short.
Basically, I defended my friend in a bar fight. (WHAT?!)
So my friend Leane comes out of the bathroom, right, to inform us all that a girl in the bathroom had apparent qualms with her and shoved her against the wall. When Leane asked her double-you-tee-eff, the girl ignored her and another one stepped in between and wanted to roust.

So I ask Leane to point the girl out to me, so we can ask her what's going on; Leane in actuality hates to fight, as do I. Haven't done so since 11th grade. I am more verbal above all else.
But, with booze in the bloodstream and anger rising in her throat, she confronts her then and there. Two seconds later, the girl is slinging beer bottles over her head like Xena: Warrior Princess and that's when I step in, shoving her backward into the bar, leaving her baffled.

As an end result, Leane gets booted, the girl got to stay, the girl left battle wounds on my arm (nail scratches), and I had a bump on my head from when the bottle grazed me. At least it didn't break.

How fun.

I just got done gardening, and the yard is finally shaping up nicely... well, as nice as it's going to let me get it to until funds start coming in again.

That's going to be awhile... since I am being sued by another credit company this time.

Sweet.
Fuck you credit cards.

At least I have awesome pals to keep me motivated on this happy streak (cHeWie, Midg, Patrick, Gina, to name a few), or else I'd give up altogether.

Happy Father's Day, to all the awesome dads or those who aspire to be.

It's been a minute.

2008-06-07T09:03:00.000-07:00

Keywords:

Detroit wins Stanley Cup, I've been on a Toadies kick as of late, I'm thinking about times in the past that made me happy, Gabe's anniversary of his death is coming up and I'm already bummin' about it, parties galore with awkwardness, old high school friends coming into my life, Far From Finished coming to play in Grand Rapids, running around like a chicken with my head cut off, working like a retard, sweating my ass off, not knowing what I want, uh..... working on my collage rather slowly, trying to score that scholarship (keep voting), and...

that's all I got, really.
My brain is mush, I've been writing articles, and I have hardly any money to my name.

I'm frustrated but happy,
but I want to run away for awhile.
Even if it means coming back.

Oh yes, and I might be in a band.

Whew.

Tune into my radio show TONIGHT!

2008-05-29T13:54:00.001-07:00

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So it goes like this.

2008-05-25T09:36:00.000-07:00

This weekend consisted of work, sun, peace, music, pirate ships, and flowers.

Saturday, I was apart of the Bodies of War 2008 peace rally in Calder Plaza. Easily one of the sweetest things I ever partook in. I was rather amazed by the turnout. Of course, the sun was blazin' by high noon, so yeah, I got one awkward looking farmer's tan. Here's a pic:

pretty damn awesome, if you ask me. Oh look! there I am!

I went to Rocky's that night to check out Dave's band and such; had a good time - it was pretty solid. My friend Joel had told me about a month ago, in a drunken stupor, that he wanted to build me a pirate ship, and I laughed it off. Well, he approaches me at the show last night and says, "where should I sail the ship?" of course, this was an on-going light-hearted joke and I said, "well I don't know, my car's across the street." He tells me to look out the window and count to two minutes.

The guy really did make me a pirate ship.

How fucking amazin'?! Granted, it was a bit odd to have an acquaintence make me such an amazing piece, (seriously, it's all metal scraps) but hey! I just got an artpiece made for me! That's pretty awesome.

I also won flowers in a random raffle that I didn't think I'd ever win, and on my way back from retrieving those flowers, I got a bogus speeding ticket. Weak.

Good times.
"Here is the church and here is the steeple, we sure are cute for two ugly people."

I never want to

2008-05-20T21:26:00.000-07:00

...run away from my problems, but this time, I just want to throw in the towel, wave the white flag, and run.

Because for the first time in months, I've been truly happy, and everyone is lecturing me about it.

Don't lecture me even here, I heard enough from one best friend for the night, enough to make me feel like a giant piece of shit.

DAMMIT!

2008-05-13T21:47:00.000-07:00

"Good things come to those who wait."

Yeah. I missed the memo where it tells you the consequences. You know, the part where it goes away, or it doesn't last long?

I shouldn't have hung up the phone tonight, because after that, things got so freakin' shitty.

But at the same time, I make myself look like an idiot every single day, with the mindset that this is like the movies, and there will be a happy ending.

Take me back. Take me back to any day that made me feel like I was soaring through clouds. To December or April or March of last fucking year.

I'd kill to hear something positively honest.
Good honest, not belittling honest.

Breathe deep, one, two...
I need to get out.

It's kind of a whirlwind...

2008-05-10T10:58:00.000-07:00

So this voting thing? Yeah, keep on rockin' that like it's going out of style. In a week, I managed to climb the contest ladder to the 21st spot out of 3600+ entries. If that doesn't make me feel awesome and accomplished, I don't know what wouldn't.

Other than that, I had a flawlessly good night/morning/whathaveyou. It's been awhile since I laughed that hard.

I don't really know what else to say at this point, however.

Vote for me so I can win a scholarship!

2008-05-03T08:50:00.000-07:00

I'll bake you cookies.

Click here and vote on brickfish.com!

Other than that, I'm a wreck without you.
I miss you terribly.

There, I said it.

I also managed to look cute in a skirt last night. Whaaaat.

Tomfoolery

2008-04-30T21:01:00.000-07:00

So good golly, what a weekend.

All I recall really is having one tremendous time with my old lady soulmate. Thank goodness she lives an hour away or I'd go bonkers. 'Twas also the first time I drank vodka since a not-so-fun night months previous to the weekend, but it went rather smoothly, in an intoxicated manner I guess.

Right now, I'm battling one gnarly cold, which can kiss my ass, if you ask me. I hate being sick, or simply not being one-hundred percent because of something ludicrous. I don't know, when I'm sick, I guess I'm rather grumpy and just want to be babied.

You all pretty much gather that, however. Past and present.

I started my nonsensical collage, and I'm already smooth sailing with that. What's mildly funny is that the first thing I drew on there was the word "shenanigans", which was Kevin's latest entry title. Weird. Same wavelength, no?

Let's just stress that there's a drag-racing walrus on said collage, which will make the world go 'round.

Here's a picture:

If you don't know, it's probably for the best.
No, I'm kidding. Just ask me sometime. I'm tired.

I also dyed my hair to a normal-ish color, I 'spose. I dig it.

Good times.
Other than that, I'm working like a fiend. It doesn't seem to be paying off just yet though; we'll see where this goes.

I had a dream last night. It felt too real. Not a fan. And now, I'm wondering what the answers may be, whether they'll kill me or not.

I dig that. I can relate to that on some days.

Eh.

This house needs to be cleaned badly.
I don't want to.
I just want to go on vacation.

Exhaustion

2008-04-23T20:16:00.000-07:00

I need a cuddle sesh, crap movies to mock, some good beer, and a promise to stargaze later.

I haven't had a day off since last Tuesday, and that, my friends, is balls.

I wish I could say it's going to pay off, literally, in the end (well, at the end of the designated pay period), but it won't. I don't make nearly enough per hour for this amount of exhaustion.

In fact, I should be in bed right now, since I work at 6am tomorrow morning.
As Awesome-o would put it; LAME!

Oh well, I suppose. I have Saturday and Sunday off, which is a bonus in my book, AND Jess is coming to visit me, so twice as awesome.

Kevin, you'd appreciate this. There was a headline on the paper today that said, "HAIL YES! CAB WAVING LEGALIZED FOR DOWNTOWN" or something along those lines. I merely chuckled at the first half of that headline, however.

I'm fucking stressed out all over again, but the gorgeous weather we've been having has been clouding my brain with goodness. (ironically speaking, I suppose.)

I don't know, I'm tired.

April 20th

2008-04-20T01:14:00.001-07:00

I don't celebrate it for what a lot of people celebrate it for. I celebrate it for a different reason.

It was the happiest day of my life.

I wrote about it the first time I got this thing, so go to the archive and look for it.

Happy Would've-Been Anniversary; I'm so thankful you're in my life still.

Nonsensical Collage #5! Give me your ideas!

2008-04-16T10:19:00.000-07:00

One thing I am notorious for making in my broken years of drawing, is the nonsensical collages. What is a nonsensical collage, you ask. A nonsensical collage is just that; a collage of which makes complete and total nonsense! It's pictures, quotes, words, lyrics, etc. all of which may or may not have a tie in with one another. All of them are done in black and white (with the exception of number 3 done as a final exam in high school; that one was done in color), and done on poster matte board.

They look like this (and some of you already know because you've been to my house or you've seen them in the past):

(I apologize for their subtle distortion; it's hard to show what I mean in their actual photobucket size, but you have an idea of what I'm talking about now.

This is where you all, as my pals and lovahs, come in! Give me your most random, off-beat, ridiculous, insightful, crazy, beautiful, eccentric, musical, lovely, dark, poetic, zany ideas! I need as many as possible without the fear of struggling to get it done.

This one will be twice as large as the two shown in this bulletin, so I'll be needing as many ideas as possible!
Spread the word! I don't care if I don't know the people you're asking for ideas from, that's all the greatness!
(and, by doing this, I'll get most of my sanity back with a great distraction)
Thanks!

but you...

2008-04-12T22:11:00.000-07:00

My favorite lyric:
"here is the church and here is the steeple, we sure are cute for two ugly people..."

this song makes my heart swell with its simplicity.

It's time for me to be selfish, whether I chicken out a bit along the way or not.

PS - Juno? Awesome. I love the ridiculous dialogue. Way to go, Diablo Cody. Way to go. You have to succeed if your parents give you a name like that, me thinks.

there's no point

2008-04-11T08:50:00.000-07:00

...in putting up a fight when you're the only one fighting.

For two and a half years, I put up with defending him when people would talk shit, be there for him when stupid bitches broke his heart, sacrificed a lot of shit just to be under the impression that it made everyone better.

I can't do it anymore, I cannot.

And I'm sorry to anyone that I hurt because of my clouded logic. I probably ruined a lot.

So, between you and me, since some of you are mutual friends, I'm thinking that it's best that I move out. So if you're looking for a roommate, or know of people that are, let me know.

junkie

2008-04-08T23:56:00.000-07:00

The love of my life could call me right now and he could say, "I fucking hate you I never want to speak to you again you stupid ridiculous fat piece of shit", and it still wouldn't compare to the feeling I am experiencing right now at this very moment.

I couldn't believe I could be lied to in such a way...
such a way that leaves me utterly speechless.

speechless, and in tears. They just keep coming.

God, make it go away. Please tell me it was a dream.

Christ.

2008-04-07T21:53:00.000-07:00

Would it kill you to cut me some slack here? I'm talking to you people upstairs, come on.

I had an amazing fucking day today, hanging out with my pals, taking pictures, singing Violent Femmes off-key, and honking for peace.
And then, I come home tonight, and I check my email, and my uncle has cancer.

Fucking sweet.

Why is my family all getting sick? If that's the case, it can't be looking too good for me, right? God, I hate being paranoid about my health.

I need to get the fuck out of here for awhile. I need a vacation.

So I think

2008-04-05T11:11:00.000-07:00

I'm going to give that reclusive church mouse thing a go. It might do me some good. Spend some solo time outside, taking pictures, reading books in a park (what park is good for that in Grand Rapids? I have yet to find out.), hatching out a real plan for my future without the lecturing from brutally honest friends, drawing more, working, organizing, scheming, traveling alone, writing snail mail letters, gardening (I'm tapping into my geriatric roots already), going for walks at night, driving to Grand Haven when I'm upset and just chill out on the beach and regroup my thoughts, move on from what my heart wants (be happy), worry less, laugh more, pick out a damn career already, meet new people, smile and nod.

What I fear is that I am only willing to bet that this will last a mere few days before someone asks me what the fuck is wrong with me. Or, before I stumble backward into square one. We'll see, I'm up for a challenge.

Let me know how the fuck you all are. I've become far too dependent on what's going on in other people's lives than my own nowadays.

52 and a half.

2008-04-04T11:11:00.000-07:00

No, not a deck of cards plus a joker face. Not a few weeks short of a year. Not the age I'll be next.

It's my rompin' work week hours between two jobs. It sucks to sacrifice my free time, since I'm at the ripe age of 22 and all, but hey, all good things come to an end for a little while. I really need the money in order to keep my hair on my head and not in a silverly hue.

I keep telling myself it's money, it's money, it's money in my pocket. It's money for bills, for the car, for rent, for trips down the road, for school.

There's a lot that suffers from it, one thing of which is the house. Now, I love my roommates and I'll scream it 'til the cows come home, but what the shit. The boys don't know the concept of a trashbag or paper towel.
So alas, when that suffers, I suffer and I leave the house to venture out.

I might go rollerskate shopping soon. Just for fun, not to join the roller derby or anything. I hate getting bruised.

Travel plans are somewhat shot now, but not because I don't have the money.

I don't know, everything's kind of screwed up right now, in both good and bad ways. I'm trying to get it all figured out, when my mind has time to be alert and the gears decide to turn. I lack a lot in answers. But I have to accept the fact that I'll never recieve them like I hoped I would.

Whatever. I'm in limbo. No worries. I'll climb out.

Devastating

2008-04-02T07:06:00.000-07:00

me: "I just miss him so much."
him: "Well, wherever he is, Nicole, he's not missing you."

quite possibly one of the worst things I've ever been told.
God, I hope it's not true.

Horton

2008-03-30T21:14:00.000-07:00

So Horton totally makes sense when he says, "I've said what I've said, I said what I meant..." and so on. No, I didn't go see the movie; I'm trying to determine whether or not it's worth the 10 bucks to shell... the last movies here and there were a real let-down, with the exception of "Sweeny Todd" and "August Rush"...anyway.

But hey, usually what I write, I mean. I don't take anything back.

I made someone's day by commenting on what a good person they were and infact, are, and it makes me feel good to know that made someone's life change, just a smidgen.
Quote: "he's got a heart and compassion for everything he considers true."

I'm awesome :) Only when I'm writing, I have verbal dyslexia.

So since Wednesday, I drank ridiculous amounts of alcohol to drown my batshit ugly week down the drain. It dulled the sadness just a bit, but hey, it's never a permanent solution (at least, it will never be for me). Ran into good ole' Donnie down at the bar on Wednesday and we had one overdue heart-to-heart.

We drank one for you, my dear.

Thursday, I did my radio show, and it went pretty okay, I suppose. I was rather distracted with the news that's been floating in and out of my brainwaves since a few days prior, but it worked itself out. Miki Miki Motor Bikey (that's right, best nickname ever), and Fatty Patty swung by, and planned on seeing Juno that night, but the fact that I had to pick up Dave from work interfered so that ninja'ed the plans. Rats. However, we bombared Aaron's house, which pissed him off, but he subsided when we offered tasty cheap beer from Scary Mart. Yay. Good times. There were pictures taken, I'll have to pilfer those in due time.

Speaking of pictures, I got the ones edited from the photoshoot last weekend. They turned out pretty decent. We just didn't take enough for what she paid me for, so I offered to take more, free of charge. You can check 'em out here, but if you don't have a 'spazz account, then you're shit out of luck for now. This is where Nelson is supposed to point and ha ha at you.

Friday, we celebrated Leane's birthday (I can't believe it's been a year already since... GOD NICOLE SHUT UP.). We made a pitstop at The Breakroom, where I was given three Jager Bombs and told to guzzle in 10 minutes time. Sweet. Buzzed already. I should change the name of this blog.
We then 'tailed it over to Northland and played a romping few games of bowling. Good times. I then recall heading to Leane's for party festivities.
Laundry list!
- beer
- Rock band (BEST. GAME. EVER.) - I sang Radiohead on medium and got 100%. I rule.
- food fight! I was picking out angel food cake and rice pudding out of my hair the day after. My new hoodie's dirty :(
- Leane turning into the incredible drunk Hulk[ette] and breaking things
- squash?

We then went to another house, and did some Jameson shots. That for sure did me in. Fucking whiskey, everytime. I just remember cookies and a mass cuddle sesh.

Last night was frustrated angry drunk night. I got asked out by the "king of punk rock". Hilarious. Uriah's birthday was last night, so Leane and I headed over to Mojo's (never. again.) to wish him some birthday goodtimes. Leane was rather surprised that Mario was so friendly, but I assured her that he usually is when there's alcohol involved. Go figure. They, too, have a secret headnod now.

I do recall ending last night with vigorous games of Connect Four at Melanie's house, and conversations of how I shouldn't be single and why am I only 22? Eh.

I need to chill out on the boozin'. But it distracted me and pushed the bullshit aside for awhile. It was refreshing in a somewhat sad way.

I'm going to have one fucked up workweek. Between the two jobs I now have, this week will be 45.5 hours. I'm going to be so excited when I get paid. I'm crawling in my skin.

How's that for an update?

drink? drank? drunk.

2008-03-26T23:11:00.000-07:00

So per usual, the friends that vouched to get me out of this depression, melancholy funk flaked out on me tonight, so I decided to venture out alone in search of intoxication to drown my sorrows.

Ah, Mulligan's.

I was there for quite a minute by myself, sucking down "happy" drinks of rum and cokes, when Donnie graces my presence, with a look of sorrow and sadness.

We drank together in our heartbreak, and reminisced. It was nice, but I cried.

I feel so alone still, without hugs or reassurance that everything's going to be okay.

I hate it.

I just want my questions answered.

Time for a vacation

2008-03-25T21:03:00.000-07:00

I'm done.
I'm currently drinking stupid cheap rum to drown my stupid sorrows.

My sister has to have surgery. It might end up rather bad. Something that makes me want to throw up.

And, amongst other things...

I drink more.

I'm alone here.

Be happy.

A tale of two cities represented by singular letters and perhaps a number

2008-03-24T06:37:00.000-07:00

I chuckle at myself sometimes, really I do. I've come to the conclusion that I have a strange OCD about figures being in even numbers (the television volume, amount of posts, to-do lists). Stupid? I think not, compared to other habits that other people have.

Anyway.

Saturday was the photoshoot with Elle & The Fonts in D-town, which, in actuality, is just Elle and whomever wants to jam with her at shows, which is quite crafty. "Anyone can be a Font!" she's said, and has the tendency to hand people in the crowd plastic easter eggs with pinto beans inside.

Beforehand, she took me to the WAB (Woodward Ave Brewery), which was a delightful choice. I, however, ceased to grab any beer while I was there, since I was promised drinks later at her usual intoxicating stomping grounds. However, I did get the black bean quesadillas, of which made my taste buds rather happy. I also introduced my stomach to Cholula for the first time, which will frequent in the near future, given that I remember to buy a bottle the next time I buy groceries.

We then got down to business as far as picture-taking goes, and had a really good time. Half the time I didn't realize she was posing for me, until she kept reciting, "Yeah, so I watch 'America's Next Top Model', and I learned this pose from it, I won't lie" I'm pretty geared up for photo-edit mode, but just not yet, since I have to figure out what the hell is going on with these damn computers...

...stupid technology.

We then went to her stomping grounds, which was a surprise to me. The Ye Olde, your to-the-strict-Webster's-dictionary-down-to-the-T definition of a standard dive bar. I decided to fancy myself and get a Jack and Coke, but to my surprise and apparently to the bartender making them, it was a mere Jack and soda water... do I really need to say that I was leaning to one side after one drink? Not really, but I just did anyway.

After that pit stop, we headed to A2 with some of her friends to check out a show in a place called The Halfass. Crafty name for a dorm rec room that just happens to throw shows. It was like a time warp back to shows I recall seeing once upon a time, where Chuck Taylors, leggings, swoopy hair, and black rimmed glasses flowed freely like a stream in the forest. The music was decent, for the genre it all was (indie/experimental/folk/ambient?/blues), just not so much my dominant cup of tea. I would buy the albums, simply to listen to on a sweet spring day, laying in the grass somewhere.

I couldn't seem to shake of the observation I had that one of the bands' "misc. instruments" player resembled a young Peter Framption (who I have seen in concert a few years back, a-thank you.).

We did, however, get there too early, so our boozer selves walked to The Brown Jug, your typical A2 campus landmark. Elle snagged a shot called "Oh No! Blueberries" which had us all laughing throughout the night, typically to replace a simple "Oh no" in any given sentence that signifies subtle failure.

Example: and this is the truth people; when we were walking back to the car after the show, running by the parking structure was a heavier black girl, catching up to her friends. The catch is, she had a rather large assets, and they were on the verge of freeing themselves from brazierre (how the hell do you spell that word?! it's marked.) purgatory. Upon observing this, I turned to Elle's friend Aaron and mouthed, "oh no... blueberries."

Flashback to the bar. I snagged myself a pint of Leinenkugel's Sunset (there is no way that's a standard pint! Way larger. But hey, I liked the price), along with a couple Long Island. Toasty? You bet.

The drive from Detroit to Grand Rapids the next morning was rather boring, as a lot of you know (well, those that are familiar with the route). I managed to get home at noon on the nose, with time to spare for a nap. Sadly, that didn't happen since Dave is crazy mad batshit sick right now, so I had to pick him up from work.

Good grief.

In other news, I'm becoming rather reclusive and figuring that things aren't going to always be a happy ending, so I might as well be pessimistic with that outlook and throw in the figurative towel with certain aspects of my life.

Happy Birthday, darling.

2008-03-20T21:46:00.001-07:00

A Happy Happy Birthday to you, my dear.
I wish I could be there to celebrate in the festivities.
I also wish I was able to send out a present I still am searching for, high and low, on time.

Miss you, and have a good day.

sappy shit

2008-03-20T08:41:00.000-07:00

A thought just occurred to me.

While I sit here in a daze, I wonder why I was never told the response.
The response, in question, to my affections.
I think my heart just broke.

(A little longer than a haiku, but hey. I was never good at structured poetry, so we'll just say that it's just the thoughts that pop up in my head.)

Is it time to move on?

Fuck you, spring.

St. Patrick's Day. A recap.

2008-03-18T09:34:00.000-07:00

Figures that I'd be doing this and I'm still mildly buzzed from the night before. What, besides green dye, do they put in green beer? I swear, I drank a pint of it and I was loopy.

Of course, I did donate yesterday and went to Dave's work and he bought me a couple drinks... that tends to buzz you up just a wee bit quicker. Nevermind the fact that I got a giant clover hat with the Miller logo plastered on it when I got there... Oh damn. I left it.

Anyway.
Lots of good times yesterday. Some douchebag was pissing everyone off while the bands were playing (there's always one), so I was trying to be cool with it, joke around, spit some beer on him, whatever. It's St. Patty's Day. What does he do to retaliate? He throws his full pint glass at me, soaking me from shoulders to toes.

What the fuck, man?

He then looks at me and goes, "oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it" and tries to give me a hug. Uh, no. Get the fuck away from me. Aaron, my buddy, did the guy friend thing and backed him away and put his arm around me, giving himself the title of The Pretend Boyfriend.

Dave and I had fought earlier that night, so I was twice as upset when he came up to me and asked me what the hell happened. His reaction: "I'm gonna go hit this guy." My immediate reaction was to follow him and stop him. But when I ran after him, and with everyone knowing how Dave is, there were followers. We then get in ANOTHER fight, him calling me a drama queen and overreacting and saying that he was only going to talk to this guy. Right. Wasted, and your girlfriend just dumped you and belittled you in the process and you're going to just talk to this guy for embarrassing your best friend. Okay. Whatever you say.

Of course, Tommy's reaction was to grab the guy by the collar and pushed him against the wall, telling the guy to get the fuck out. Which he did.

Damn.
Lucky I had an extra shirt. A very sweet Ten Second March workshirt with a nametag on it that says Shirley (happened to have been my grandma's name).
Other than that, my tab was a whopping four bucks, and I made tearful phone calls at one in the morning (I'm so sorry if I woke you up.)

Detroit is down by 2! Tell them to up their game!

2008-03-16T21:11:00.000-07:00

Today was, indeed, a blast... Miki and I did a lot of tasking that one person couldn't do in 3 days. I'd go into specifics, but it involves SOMEONE'S birthday present. I think I'm on the right track. Here's hoping.

I can't believe you fell off the porch, you silly.

So I went and filled out my paperwork and BS'ed for about an hours or so, moreso on the lines of talking about how work's gonna pan out and such. It's going to be good times. I'm pumped.

I then get a call from Sarah, who did my knee tattoo. I just figured she was calling to see if she wanted to cut my hair today. Well... not quite. She calls and says this:

"hey, it's Sarah. Just wondering if you wanted to be an extra in a short film." UH.

YES?!

SO I call her back, and turns out it was a ZOMBIE FLICK. I still have the make-up on my face. I met some pretty cool people. Hurt my butt when I fell from the "gunshot". I'll post some pictures soon for your viewing pleasure.

Happy St. Patty's Day tomorrow. Slainte'!

Oh, craigslist

2008-03-14T10:09:00.000-07:00

So I've gotten over a dozen emails, asking me for my car. None of them replied back after they saw the pictures. I said there was cosmetic damage in my ad! That's their oversight, not mine. I was Honest Abe in that, man. No bullshit.

However, I got an email in particular that seemed almost too good to be true. This lady gets ahold of me, right, and says she wants my car, she'll send a money order and whatnot, and she'll then send someone to pick it up, but not until I cash the money order. Uh, what the hell? She also said she was willing to toss in an extra $70 (what an odd amount) to hold it for her. Okay, I can take an extra $70.

I just emailed her telling her the truth, that there's minor body damage and the handle on the driver's side door needs to be replaced. Hell, if she's just going to throw money like that on a car without really caring to wonder what it looks like, then so be it. Maybe she'll have the money to throw down on repairs, since I obviously didn't.

It'd make me pretty damn happy if she still wants it after the fact, though.

My head's been rather confused as of late. I hate not knowing the answers to life's questions, it irks me. But I do live in a life of clutter, so that could be a problem. I need to clear my house like I need to clear my head. I also need to clean my old car out if people are going to be looking at it this weekend.

Ah, dammit.

Metaltje!

2008-03-11T11:15:00.001-07:00

Your birthday is next week.
I want to send out your present, you booger.

I need your snail mail address.

Please, and thank you.

Dream

2008-03-09T19:33:00.000-07:00

I had yet another dream last night that seemed all too real. Not cool. I woke up grumpy and discombobulated for several reasons, one of which was obviously the daylight savings time fiasco that happens twice a year. I was not a fan of working today, either.

But at least I'll be getting free rentals again soon. That's a plus.

These past couple of days made up for a good percentage of this shit-tastic winter, I must say. It better not end here. The human interaction is just what I need, nowadays.

Don't be a jerk, now.

Here's a few pictures:
Now, the following picture isn't from Thursday night, or even this weekend, it was from my birthday weekend, but I just found it on Colleen's profile and it made me happy.

(me, Henrique and Alex (the Brazil Boys!) and Colleen at PsychoFest)

Dynaflo Aaron and I in the studio during my radio show.

Beervision! No seriously. cHeWie put a beer bottle up to the flash and took the picture.

Oh, Gina. You cute, drunken lass, you.

I'm ready for a vacation now. You'd be surprised at some of the things people have been thinking about saying for quite some time now, and finally voiced it to me. It would surprise you. But probably scare you. Just sayin'.

I hate that fucking Dynaflo.

2008-03-07T09:15:00.000-08:00

Not really, they did the radio show with me last night. Hysterical! I told them they need to come hang out more often. I'm not so deathly bored that way. Because truth be told, I do get real bored if I have nobody to talk to besides myself. I don't know, depends on the motivation, yes?

They also brought me beer, just one - a beer called Goat's Breath Bock Ale. A very tasty treat. I'm a fan.

We headed down to The Meanwhile to grab some drinks and such, and Gina showed up :) A very pleasant surprise. What a punkin. We ended up back at the house yet again, and that's where it all gets blurry.

I just remember caution tape and singalongs. Nobody died though; makes me wonder where the caution tape came from and why we ever had it in the house.

Meh.
Good times. Muchly needed.

Just give a little whistle

2008-03-05T19:53:00.000-08:00

I wish I had a singing grasshopper... wait, he was a cricket. Duh, Nicole.

I don't know, random mumbo jumbo. I'm in photo editing mode again, which is making my head feel like gooey jello. Hey, leave it out for too long and it gets gooey.

You can check out my photos here, or even here.

I met a new friend last night, and she is quite hilarious and spontaneous. Her and I mesh well. We girl-talked a bunch. Muchly needed. Had a lot on my plate to dish out. Oooh, nice one.

"Getting a pack of cigarettes at a convenience store is like ordering a drink at Starbuck's. Too many words to say, and around the same price."

I need to get sleep, but I can't when I keep having these messed up dreams.

A friend of mine from work told me today she was quitting. And why, you ask? (or probably not asking, but I'm telling you anyway) She fell in love with a boy and is moving down to Chicago to be with him. It made me incredibly happy for her. You don't hear love stories like that every often.

Yeah...
well.

Back to my distraction.

Miss Self-Destruct

2008-03-04T06:33:00.001-08:00

Well.

What else can I catastrophically ruin with words? My mind is goo right now. My mom and I got in a fight, something of which I am not a fan of. I figured that when I moved out that things would've gotten a lot better, which they had, but she has a way of blind-sighting me with unneccessary rage and assumptions.

I'm the girl with no direction, nice to meet you.

Kind of has a ring to it, don't you think?

The infamous Pete Bastard also blindsighted me with words of his own... by contacting me for the first time in 2 years. I'm openly admitting it fucked me up as if I took too many pills, but I duct taped that mental wound. He wanted me to call him. Why? So we can pretend nothing ever happened and be chummy with each other again? The thought makes me ill.
I told him no. That won't be happening. Even though it was coincidental that it was his birthday yesterday.

And then...
I write what has been on my mind, day after day yesterday. I'm sure it doesn't make you feel all too great in a sense, and I'm sorry. I'm a chicken when it comes to verbal things, as you know. Since I wrote you that letter and all as a going away present.
I get scared that I screw things up.

And I'm sure I had. But...

eh.

That's why I have a lot of pessimistic labels attached to me right now. According to my mom, that is.
However, the best friend finally stepped up to the plate and has been by my side. What is with everyone blindsighting me with these things?

fuck, here it goes.

2008-03-03T09:54:00.000-08:00

I hate being there, knowing that you aren't going to be crossing my path, to playfully try and steal my shoes.
I hate listening to someone else sing Lou Reed songs at karaoke.
I hate ordering a pitcher at the bar, with nobody to share it with, just because.
I hate when I can still feel my hand being squeezed when I go through a crowded room, and realizing that it's just my imagination.
I hate it that I can't feel the April breeze in the morning.
I hate that I'm alone when I go to the record store, or to the playground at night.
I hate having dreams that feel so real.

God, I'm so sorry.
I don't like it.

It's going to be your birthday soon... what would you like?

"It's refreshing to hear your heartbeat again... it's starting to beat faster now."
"If it is, it's all your fault."

Dogs can look up.

2008-03-02T09:35:00.001-08:00

Life is good today, I just want to stress that.

I just got another new job - DHL, what is up. Good money, good money.
I just got a photo job to do at the end of the month and getting paid good money to do so.
The show last night was rockin', and so was the company.
And, I'm getting my finances in order, finally.

So in the end result to all of this, I will be able to get caught up with my bills, go on trips somewhat soon, not have to worry so much, and build up my portfolio some more.

Sigh.

Pinch me, I'm dreamin'.

Bar hopping

2008-02-29T08:02:00.000-08:00

So last night, after finishing my radio show, Bram comes into the studio and says, "let's get the fuck out of the house".

Cool.

We head to Juke's, only to be disappointed with the fact that it was Open Mic Night... and not an impressionable one at that. But we managed to suck down a couple of pitchers and be on our way to Mulligan's.

Let me tell you what, seeing the explosion site was pretty intense. In a way, however, and I didn't think it was funny at first, but we were talking about it at Juke's with some friends and they go, "well think of it this way, it's a bigger parking lot for Mulligan's." Astute point, sir.

I tried this fruity ale concoction that I managed to successfully forget the name of at The Meanwhile, and let me tell you, HIGH IN the alcohol level. Very tasty. I'm going to track the name down and see if I can find it in stores around here.

A good night deemed successful.

Apparently Dave had a dream last night that I got in a bare-knuckle fight with another girl and it was so real to him that he called me four times this morning to make sure I was okay. Weird. I'm still pissed off at him. But I'll speak today, I guess.

two posts in one day... this outta be good.

2008-02-27T20:53:00.000-08:00

To find myself weighing out the integrity of friends more than once in a span of a month or two, decidedly explains that things are definitely in the red. Not good, when you consider looking up the word friendship in your trusty Webster's Dictionary and it doesn't compare with the feelings you've succumbed to, or, in this case, what I've succumbed to. A contrast, if you will.

Basically, I'm pulling a western movie line out of my ass and declaring that I'm calling you out. With the strict exception of very few, I get the distinct feeling that a lot of what I say or feel at any particular moment means dick to a lot of you. Suffice to say, including people that I live with. You can consider it a state of overreaction if you want, but hey. I haven't had a sense of reassurance from the lot of you for some time now. Shitty.

I was willing to forgive and forget about how shitty my actual birthday (with the exception of some choice phone calls and the people that did actually show to dinner and bowling... not much, let me tell you... and yes, I will keep harping about this), but that doesn't mean that I'm still not hurt by it. It was embarrassing to say the least, especially when I never thought that such a thing could happen to me. You see that shit in the movies or on TV shows, not usually in real life.

Even as I read what I've just written once over, it sounds ludicrous (spelled right? meh.) to me, but I cannot help how I've been feeling for the past few months now. I've been dealing with a lot of self-doubt, this category in particular in life's bumpy roads, and being hermitted (I don't know if the word "hermit" could be used in that tense, but it is now. This is the internet after all.) in a cluttered house most of the days and nights (when I'm not working, of course.) doesn't really help the sitch, either.

By this time, you're asking, "well why in the hell don't you ever call me to hang out?" The answer to that possible inquiry is simply either I do not have your phone number, or I'm hesitant when I have come to believe my own thoughts, which have the ability to convince me that I'm, as the infamous Dane Cook words it, "the friend nobody likes". Why invite yourself when you feel like The Douchebag? It's embarrassing in the long run when or if it actually turns out to be true, is it not?

And let me play this card now, I'm not out to seek pity, I never have. I'm simply expressing. I can do that. It's cool, don't fret.

So there you have it. My insecurity skeleton is out of the fucked up closet. If you choose to call me out on this, dubbing this as a wrong-doing, do so in a decent manner by emailing, calling, or better yet, speaking to me in person about it. I've embarrassed myself enough.

Thanks for reading, and hopefully understanding where I'm coming from.

Today is one of those days

2008-02-27T11:13:00.001-08:00

It's one of those days today. One of those, not-so-good, wish-I-could-sleep-all-day, self-doubting kind of days. I'm sick of the winter, I'm sick of my friends treating me like a joke, I'm sick of feeling lovesick (I'm sorry.) with questions in my head that I'm afraid to hear the answers to.

I'm sick of things going great and the next day I get bitchslapped with crap. I want out. I want out of here. Start over. But I'm scared to be alone.

And I... no.

I just wish those memories would fade on days like these, since they make me considerably worse.

I'm alone, and I feel rather small. This fucking sucks.

Explosion in Eastown

2008-02-26T13:30:00.000-08:00

All I can do right now is hold my breath and wait.

I was just sitting on the couch not ten minutes ago, when the news interrupted and informed the viewers in Grand Rapids, that there had been an explosion in Eastown. For those unfamiliar, Eastown is an astute, well-known business district in my old neighborhood.

Apparently, it was a gas explosion, and it was the two-story building next to Mulligan's, that housed a t-shirt shop and a salon. There's people injured, and there's more trapped inside.

The thought of the possibility of my friends being one of those victims puts a knot in my stomach. Hell, just the fact that it happened does. Injured people? This is crazy! I don't even know who they are and I feel their pain.

It's crazy to think that if I were still working there, there would've been fire marshalls telling us all that we had to leave. Or, if Kevin still lived here, he'd be evacuated as well... crazy.

Thankfully, and I just watched more of the news, the injuries people have are not life-threatening.

Shit like this scares me, let alone worries me.

Let me stress

2008-02-25T19:42:00.001-08:00

...As to how ridiculous I look in the following picture:

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me?
But seriously, Gina's taking that beer bong like a champ.

I love technology, but not as much as you, you see.

2008-02-24T22:34:00.000-08:00

Okay. There's far too much technology casing me in. The laptop quit, so now we have a gigunderous (that's right, I went there) monitor hooked to it, plus the new and improved computer running the radio station, plus its monitor for that, plus the laptop itself.
It's all on either sides of me, and I just pushed my glasses up the brim of my nose. Okay. If I take them off, and there's tape holding them together, I will start weeping.

Whew. Close call.

Anyway.

Is it sad that lately, the only time I feel rather accomplished is when I'm done cleaning the Hurricane Brimstone aftermath, also known as the house? I think it is. I'm in dire need of human interaction. And no, I'm not counting co-workers or roommates. Winter's retarded. I want spring. The weather has teased me enough. Let's have it! It makes me better!

I'm thinking of planning a trip or two soon, if the funding allows.

*sigh*

I cannot wait for Tuesday. It's my day off. I am soooo going to sleep in. That is, if Dave doesn't call me at 8am, drunk still from the night before, on the other side of town, asking me if I could pick him up. That's the only time I see him now. How fucked up is that? Pretty fucked up. It sincerely makes me sad thinking about it.

Libraryland

2008-02-21T08:26:00.001-08:00

So I get home last night, after sitting outside in the cold in the parking lot at work... wait. Let me start over. The lunar eclipse last night? Gorgeous. And back to the original route I was taking!

I get home last night, and my roommate informs me that our house computer has, indeed, crashed. Whomp, whomp. So all of my photos, gone. Songs, gone. Everything.

That makes me one insanely sad panda. And I regret not uploading those onto photobucket when I had the chance, which were many. BLAST!

Hopefully, we'll get it up and running again, but in the meantime, we have the other computer set up for the radio station only, no email etc.

Thus why I'm in a library.

I don't like sitting at the library. Waltzing around, sure, but sitting? Nay. There's too many people that make me uncomfortable here.

but my time is just about up, so I have to cut this short.

time flies.

I don't know what's worse...

2008-02-20T05:10:00.000-08:00

...but I can't believe I fucking chickened out.

Eff you, life, I win!

2008-02-15T20:08:00.000-08:00

I'm on a posting spree as of late.

But let me stress, today was a teriffic (why does that look weird?) day. It was my roommate's birthday, so I treated him to some Chinese. Perfect for any occasion. As long as it doesn't make you sick afterwards. My fortune stated: "You will attend a party where strange customs prevail". Also known as a Potatoebabies show? I think that much is true.

Right before I work, I get a call from my friend that works on the internet radio station with me, and he informed me that Recoil (local music mag) wants to do an article about us for their April issue. UH. FUCKING SWEET. So happy about that. I don't mean to toot my own horn or anything, but I pushed for that to happen, where people did their part on this station project ordeal dilly dally etc etc. So I feel pretty tall right now.

Work was good, I got to work with Bill, who's good people.

And then while I was at work, I get a call from Blockbuster asking me if I wanted to go back to work there. Only, not at the store I worked at once before. Uh, yeah! Sure! Awesome!

So yeah, I win.
The only thing that would make this more perfect (is that correct?)... well.

Yeah.

I hate this.

2008-02-14T18:14:00.000-08:00

I only have one wish right now. Right at this very moment.

I've never wanted anything more than my wish.

This is stupid, isn't it?
I sound like a 12 year old.

But you know what? Fuck it. This is how I fucking feel. It breaks my heart living day to day, wondering. Not a day goes by...
*sigh*

I don't want to know if it's going to kill me.

I'm sorry...

This is in serious Morrissey Code.

I hope you tuned in.

This holiday makes me feel more like a spinster

2008-02-14T08:33:00.000-08:00

I feel that, if you love someone, you don't need one day to tell them. You have the rest of your life to tell them. You have every day to tell them. Valentine's Day is either a cop out for guys that neglect to do so, a get out of jail free card so to speak, and that's rather upsetting. At least in my case in the past. I don't know, it could change. I would like to think that people still celebrate the holiday for the history, and not for Hallmark value, but hey. Love is what I tend to live for, and I can shout that from the rooftops any damn day. I don't need just one day.

If you love someone, tell them.
"No matter how angry or sad or confusing life can get, never ever second-guess what your heart is screaming at you."

A friend of mine sent me this in an email, and I thought it was rather cute and hit close to home...

If I had the way, I'd be there. You should know that by now.

And now, I share with you the passage my sister had me read.
Let me just say, Corinthians speaks a lot of truth.
This comes from Corinthians 12:28-13:7 from the new testament of contemporary language.

If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep the score of the sins of others.
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.
Love never dies.
Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.
When i was an infant at my mother's breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good.
We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!
But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.

Isn't that neat? I thought it was one of the most inspiring things I ever read. Granted I'm not a part of any church or religion, but I never said that I never had faith in anything.

I need someone, a person to talk to...

2008-02-13T10:47:00.000-08:00

Oh, Violent Femmes. You're like a parasite at the moment, this moment in February.

Anyway.
I almost died last night. Not something I had on my to-do list. And no, it wasn't foreshadowed. I'm not quite sure how it all came about, but I have been gathering bits and pieces of it, as the day goes on.

And it still terrifies me.

The day consisted of Dave and I going over to Rob's house so the boys can practice for their show that's happening tonight, of which included that I stop at the store so Dave could buy a pint of whiskey. It was Radio Show Day after all. Good times were had over at the house when the boys practiced, we helped with Rob's paper route, and were on our terrifying little way in the shitstorm that is considered to be snow nowadays. Screw winter. I'm done with it.

We were mildly late for the start of the radio show, but it still happened. We had high hopes of sledding after an hour of the show, but that ended up not happening, and so Bram and I (all names mentioned are merely friends and/or roommates if you're still confused. I write like I'm in a deep conversation...whoops.) ventured out for the boozerun and some food.

Good times.
I made myself two short drinks of rum and off-brand Coke, and swigged those periodically throughout a few hours. I think this is where it gets tricky.
There was hairspray and a lighter, and both were ignited during a two and a half minute song, with the door shut, in a small room. No ventilation whatsoever.

Cough, cough, gag, keel...

..."NICOLE! Dave, we need to take her to the hospital!"
I woke with a start, tremble, twitch, and tears. When I fully came to, Bram and Dave were both on either side of me, where I was sitting, debating on the next responsible move. Apparently I had been out for an hour, and they just assumed I was wasted, despite the fact that I only had one and a half short drinks of weak mixed varieties.

I scared the shit out of Bram, genuinely so, which wasn't my intention whatsoever. But after last night, it shone a new light on the friendship that Bram and I have, which I'm pretty grateful for.

But...
what perplexes me is that they just left me there. Wait, scratch that. Moreso Dave just left me there. And after gathering up some information from radio listeners, he was making fun of the situation. Some best friend.

And now, I'm crying.

boozer, please.

2008-02-12T07:13:00.000-08:00

Rum, especially cheap rum of which I like to call the Rico Suave Rum, has its way of making you feel downright shitty, plainly noted. Not the typical hangover conditions, no, I'm talking about the feeling that your sub-concious spiraled off into an alternate universe, making you feel as though, yes, you've done fucked up.

I curse that damn rum, I curse any rum for that matter, but alas... I will never drink vodka in copious amounts ever again. Rum, out of the two, is considerably safer. I don't break things in the sense that I did when I used to be devoted to drinking vodka when I drank; Instead, with rum, I just break my own heart.

Mumble, mumble.

However, it was the first time in a long time that my best friend willingly hung out without ditching later, which is what he's prone to do nowadays. Controlling girlfriends are a bitch in any friendship. Thank goodness I am not one to say that I am a control freak of my significant others(at least that's what I hope). We did a lot of listening of older music, music of which that made me laugh. Oh yes, I'm referring to 90s dance pop CDs that I spent hours looking for one fateful night back when I lived in Saginaw (hey, it's either that or join a gang. Your choice.). Did I mention that Dave insisted that we find "MMBop" on the dreadful and resourceful internet? Yeah, I'm not kidding. Wish I was.
He tried to push me later that night in playing the guitar for him, but I'm far too shy to show the Rockstar of Supposed Grand Rapids my sketchy key skills. Put a piano infront of me, and I'll play for hours. I prefer to play the guitar in my private time, teaching myself stubbornly until, by George, I think I'm up to something and I think it's right.

I do recall picking up my phone and almost dialing a number at four in the morning, but that would've been catastrophic to the sleeping patterns of the other party. Stupid drunk dialing. Stupid. It sucks, because the things you so desperately think of day to day, things of which you want the answers to, you usually get the guts to ask when drinking is involved. Rum, like many liquors and/or ridiculous, extravagant amounts of beer, creates a "fancy" memory loss mechanism. I'm such a wuss.

Although, I did manage to steal "The Doors" from Dave's room and, in turn, passed out watching that, all the while mouthing the lines. It puts me to ease. I love that damn movie. It's as if it's my cinematic form of a pacifier if and/or whenever I'm throwing a theoretical tantrum.

"It's all just a dream, Jimmy. That's all that it is."
Amen, Mom In Movie.

one more for good measure

2008-02-10T20:04:00.000-08:00

Wasn't that an album title of sorts for some one-hit wonder or something...?

anyway.

I meant to recap of quite an eventful weekend. For your reading pleasure.

Friday: I got feisty.
So Ten Second March was playing at Juke's on Friday. Good times. I, indeed, was inclined to go since I needed some much overdue human interaction. Especially since I spent 15 hours traveling the day before.
I was hanging out with friends and such and then... enter douchebag. I've never seen him before, and he just came off as the typical drunk dude looking to have a rompin' good time. Fine, whatever. He was standing next to me, and me being the friendly shmoe I am, I made a few humorous comments here and there. Apparently he didn't dig my sense of humor, because he wasn't laughing.
At one point, he spilled his beer on me. Simple accident, sure, but no apology or courtesy. Later on, I was talking to my friend Leane, and this same guy butts in and says, "you know what? go sit the fuck down, you fucking bitch."

Enter, the Ruthless Pirate Nicole.

Needless to say, I had exchanged a few unkind words to him, pushed him around a bit. I don't like to fight, but if you call me names and you don't even know my first name to make it come off as a joke, I'm going to slap you around a bit.

Then, Ten Second March jumps on. They had a heckler, indeed. It wasn't a fun heckler I am to the Walking Corpses. He had been picking fights with the singer and the bass player since they started playing and finally Rob, the singer, asks the guy if he just wants to get it over with and fight.
No words exchanged; the guy got on stage and headbutts Rob. Three punches, and the guy has a broken nose. That all happened when I went to the bathroom for five minutes.
Who headbutts someone? You don't see that kind of stuff unless you're watching a Van Damme movie.

Saturday: Yarr, says I.
Nothing too controversial happened here. I dressed up like a hot evil pirate for a pirate party, people asked me about my tattoo a lot, drank a bunch of horrible rum, and ended the night feeling rather relaxed at our friend's house, watching "Curb Your Enthusiasm."
Did I mention that I saw Kurt Cobain at the Circle K? The mystery has been solved. He works there. Go exploit it.

Sunday: zombie invasion?
You bet. I get a call from work while I'm on my way, as my boogers are freezing to the insides of my nostrils, telling me to bundle up a bit better because the power's out. Sweet.
With the power being out, nobody could use their cards, pump gas, or get coffee. It was also the most fateful day that I decided not to bring anything to read. Awesome. With the way the store looked and how creepy the backroom was, it was a horror movie set. I was waiting for the zombies to invade for a movie called "Winter of the Dead".

Amber and I decided that we could find a way to get to the roof, make parachutes out of hamburger bun bags, and make our way to my car, and then blow up the gas station. Woo hoo.

I don't know how to think with the temperature so cold

2008-02-10T09:31:00.000-08:00

One of the things I look forward to on Sundays is PostSecret, I can honestly say so. Something about them brightens my day, especially when I'm having a hard time dealing and I can read those and relate.

Does that sound dumb? Hope not. A couple of 'em I really liked, whether it was the message, the art, or both.

Anywho.
Went to a Pirate Party last night. Was fun at first, and then I wasn't feeling it so much anymore. I did look pretty bitchin', not gonna lie about that. I thought it was pretty funny when someone was looking at my back tattoo and asked me if it was real. I then responded with, "no, I drew it myself, Sharpies and all, and used a mirror. It was a daunting task." They didn't like my sarcastic sense of humor.

But hey, my pirate name for the night was The Dread Pirate Kidd. HELLO.

Gate D, as in David.

2008-02-09T09:15:00.000-08:00

I did some consistent travel Thursday for about... hold on, lemme calculate, 15 hours with the time difference? I don't know, something like that.

I like train rides.
I don't like mothers threatening to hit their daughters at 8 in the morning when I'm trying to catch some sleep though.

One of my highlights was checking out train graffiti, and sitting in the Grand Hall in the Union station in Chicago.
I didn't venture outside to the Chicago streets, because I didn't want to get lost and miss my train, but I'm so down to go there.

Apparently a guy shot up a government building in Chicago, the same time I was there. Talk about zany.

I sat next to a nice Russian lady named Anya the second train ride for about 20 minutes of it, 'til they told her to move. Mean conductors. But I was content having two seats to myself while I was hypnotized by the scenery outside, whether it was vast amounts of farmland or not.

I then got my car and hung out with my sister and brother-in-law for a bit and we then went our separate ways. I got stuck in some retarded traffic in Indiana for what seemed like forever (I did have Midg on the phone with me to keep me sane, so that was nice).

And now, I'm home.
My car is pretty badass.
Everything is fancy.
I don't know what to do with myself, haha.
I've been trying to find excuses to go drive in it, but it hasn't quite worked out :)

Meh.
So yay!

On an unrelated note, if you haven't seen the movie "August Rush" yet, you're definitely missing out. Amazing movie.

On another unrelated note, I've been having questions left unanswered looming over my head... I think I want them answered, but I'm scared.

One more unrelated note, I almost got into a fight with some asshole that called me a bitch and told me to sit down at Juke's last night, during a show. Not cool. My friend Rob got into a fight with another guy instead, since the guy picked a fight by headbutting him. Who does that? You only see that in Van Damme movies, not in real life.

I hear that train a-comin'...

2008-02-06T10:04:00.000-08:00

oh man, how cliche' of me. hey, johnny cash is cool.
so my first train ride EVER is tomorrow morning. I'm pretty excited about it. It's not going very far per se, but I'm still all about the excitement. after this post, I'm planning on figuring out how to find some money real effin' quick to pay the rest of my rent and gas money for the way home tomorrow when I pick up my car *breathes*. That was a long sentence.

I'd be better with choosing a more efficient vocabulary if my brain wasn't so fried from a combination of stress and melancholy (sorry.). Snow is grinding my gears; I want it to be spring already so I can start my travels, on low funds no less.

See?
not making sense.

However, I did recieve an old email from an ex best [girl] friend this morning on the myspazz, and I did leap out of my chair and snapped into wakefulness. I do miss her, I really do. I'm not digging who she's become, though. But hey, I'm willing to forgive and already I feel tons better.

Okay, gotta go.

2008-02-03T23:04:00.000-08:00

Have you ever asked yourself, "am I worth waiting for?"
Give it a shot; you never know who you'd make tongue-tied with happiness.

2008-02-02T10:23:00.000-08:00

I need one human being that gives two shits to tell me that everything's going to be alright.

The goals I've planted this week are already going to the shitter. It's discouraging when things take the wrong turn at the fork in the road, and even moreso when you hear "I don't know what to tell you." Not a fan of those unkindly words, especially in fits of frustration.

I'm going to have to start selling my shit, which includes the things I hold dear. My camera, being one of them. I did this to myself. But dammit, this fucking sucks.

Sad.

New tattoo :)

2008-02-01T09:32:00.000-08:00

So last night I became a sport, drove in crap winter weather, all the while holding the backdoor handle since the latch was frozen and refused to shut properly... all to get an apprentice tattoo. Sarah is a good friend of mine, well, ever since I started working at the gas station of oh-so-awesome anyway. She was apprenticing at a hit or miss tattoo shop here in town, and, because of the consistent sexual harrassment she faced daily, she recently said adios and decided to tattoo out of her home. She has it set up all professional and such as well, and I trust the crap out of her. I'm a sport, and I love helping people out, so I was her guinea pig. This is what she did.

I like it, and the pinkish areas are white highlights that are waiting to peek out yet. Come on, it's roughly 12 hours old.
As soon as she started, I was in lalaland. I love getting tattooed. It makes all your stresses go away, with a constant buzz and sting of course.

couch surfing on my own couch

2008-01-31T08:08:00.000-08:00

Waking up with a cranky neck and a grumpy visage is not how you define a good night's rest. I didn't fall asleep until around 2ish last night, only having to work beforehand at a job I'm not particularly a fan of. But hey, that's changing rather quick, here.

I am going to go back to the video store atmosphere, wearing itchy polo shirts with itchy name tags and itchy khaki Dickies. What's great about it is that I won't be going back to the store I once worked at. Good thing, or else there would be a Battle Royale in the making. I just got that scene from "Cable Guy" when Jim Carrey and Matthew Broderick are fighting at the Medevil Times restaurant. Duh duh dun dun dun...
ah.
anyway.
Tonight's my radio show (shameless self-promotion pays off, I just know it does), and I have much to talk about. I think I might spoil myself and get some beer of the not-so-cheap variety. I realized there's a lot of shows coming up, all of which are in February (ah crap, I forgot about those two shows... gotta go find the info.) Anyway, if you want to tune in, it starts at 5pm est http://www.brimstoneradio.com/. If you can't tune in on the nose, I babble 'til 9pm.

What a cleaning freak I am! What sucks is that there's STILL MORE to be done. However, I did see the light at the end of the laundry tunnel last night; got me a bit teary-eyed to say the least. I don't get how two boys (I don't count Bram in the mix because he does his own laundry and retreats it back to his room) can throw up so many clothes as much as Brad and Dave do. Granted, I AM a girl after all, and I do have a lot of clothes, but the majority of the laundry that I've done in the past week are band t-shirts, boxers, dress shirts and a buttload of socks.

This isn't a blog about laundry.

The Brimstone studio room is shaping up nicely, though. I sacrificed a shelf I had in my room to move it across the hall into the studio for some storage. Looks better already. The last two things I must conquer in the room are the shelves on the desk (so. many. papers) and the closet (it's a cardboard computer land in there.)

I don't know why I insist on babbling about my cleaning techniques, what does it matter, anyhow?

On a retardedly emotional note, I did get stupid at work last night and started thinking how horribly achy I feel whenever I think of friends, ones I care deeply about that live states away, and family and how sick to my stomach it makes me feel. It makes me feel so gut wrenching to not be able to see certain individuals at the drop of a top hat (I like top hats.), or wake up comfortably the next morning next to someone that I can still faintly smell on the empty pillows, or be able to attend holiday gatherings because I'm stuck working.
It's as unfair as the weather has been lately.

Apparently I won't be going to Albany in March for my best friend's 21st birthday, since she's getting a plane ticket from her mom to come home during that time, so my next excursion planned will be Oregon to visit my sister. That's not until the summer, so I still have time to save for that trip. I'm hoping to plan a trip still towards the eastern regions of the country before then, so we'll see.

my mind desires distraction

2008-01-28T21:18:00.000-08:00

I've created a laundry list of things to keep my mind at bay of the insanity pool. Stupid, ugly winter. You can bite my ice-cream loving ass, alright?

So the boss of the internet radio station has taken a step back from running things for awhile. Mainly because he wants to see how we all fair in doing more than our share to excel in a media source such as this. It's fun, I'm all about the challenge, I'm down for the cause. So as I was at yet another Al & The Black Cats show at the Sazerac Lounge (hit a soft spot, truth be told.), I was jotting down notes in my cell phone, my only available writing source.
I've been erasing those notes, one by one, after promptly scrolling past the notes that I wrote in my phone to make me smile now and then. It's making me feel rather accomplished for the time being, until I get school situations all situated and such.

With the clock ticking down on my departure to St. Louis to get my new "child" (a 2004?! LaSabre... the Queen of all Grammy cars, I'm excited.), I have to get all that technical riffraff underway before I hop on that train. I'm a grownup, I can do it, get all my ducks in a row. I finally cleaned out my wallet of random uneeded papers today and already felt cleaner.

A lesson learned: optimism is key when you're forced to inhale ammonia on an eight-hour work shift.

What, you say?
Yeah, here's a scientific explanation. We have this fun, Dippin' Dots-type of stuff that is our icemelt. When used on the sidewalks that people walk on with their snow caked shoes, to where they walk inside and wipe their feet of the mess on moldy rugs, what do you get? you get a homemade ammonia. Enough to make you feel sea sick and give you second thoughts as to whether or not you did dye your hair that week. What sucks even more is that nothing can be done, because the store vaccuum is broken.
I never smelt what customers were talking about when they said they smelled the stench, so I just assumed they meant our floors. I didn't smell it at all until work the other night, for the first time. Last night I worked and it made me sick to my stomach and weak-kneed.
We call the boss to ask what we should do in such a situation; he tells us to sweep the water off of the mats (uh...?!?!), or to drape them over the trashcans outside (so what, they can freeze since it is January after all and we get lawsuits handed to us for slip-and-falls?). We then proceed to tell him of our dizzy dimeanors and he says, "Well I don't know what to tell you."
Which then, translates to me, that he doesn't give two shits about the health and well-being of his employees or customers.
The company and my boss can kiss my ice-cream loving ass along with winter while I go look for a new job (or crawl like a slug to my video store job, regrettfully so.)

On a melancholy state, I had dreams that didn't help the other night. *insert a sad face here*

the melancholy mood strikes again

2008-01-27T08:39:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning feeling sorely alone. Not a feeling I like to feel. I'm sick of this.

I'm all about hopping on a train to destination unknown. Just make sure you meet me there.

when there's a woe, there's a triumph

2008-01-26T09:56:00.000-08:00

So, the car is pooping out on me again, like a flaky friend. Go fucking figure, when I was just about to get ahead, I get behind. So when I'm a few calls away from selling it for scraps and investing in a moped (in the middle of winter no less), I call my sister for advice.

She attempts to sneak a giggle out of me via telephone by going down different avenues of solutions, and nothing seems to work. The least I could do, she says, is just pay for what needs to be repaired. Alas, I'm not going to drain money out of my bank account into a car that is as indecisive as a 15-year-old experiencing the sexual bases for the first time. So she tells me to chin up and we hang up.

Fast-forward to work; now, I don't like going to work stressed out, because it shows when you work at a gas station. The regulars ask what's wrong, they sympathize, and tell you with their eyes to speed up the checking out process so they can get drunk on overpriced six packs.
On my break, I check my phone and see that my sister has called back twice, and left a voicemail stating it was an emergency to call her back. With anticipation and worry coarsing through my veins, I frantically dial her number back and wait for her to pick up. This is the conversation:
Me: What's going on? Is everything okay?
Annie: Everything's fine, do you have a few minutes to talk?
Me: Yeah, I'm on my break, what's up?
Annie: Well after I got off the phone with you, I was driving to Sequoia's (my neice) school to pick her up, and it dawned on me. And I don't mean to weird you out or anything being spiritual and such, but I knew in my heart, and God knew it, that's why He gave me this feeling, is what I have to do.
Me: *worried* okay... what?
Annie: Tony (my brother-in-law) and I want to give you our car.

Me: ....
At this point I'm wondering if I'm hearing things and I ask her if she's sure and what she was going to do about a car and she assured me that she'll be fine, they have two, and no strings attached. I just have to find a way down to St. Louis to go and pick it up.
I still feel as though I'm dreaming. I'm grateful. Honestly grateful.

short and sweet and mildly embarrassing

2008-01-24T18:56:00.000-08:00

I just got back from the grocery store.
Buying groceries is evil when you just get paid, because you want to buy all kinds of shit that looks and/or sounds good. So to my dismay, my birthday check from my parents hadn't gone through, so I had to put some shit back at check-out.

Sure I put back fries and veggie burgers and rice and a frozen dinner thing of sorts, but did I give up the little tub of ice cream? I think not.

I'm a glutton.
Whatever.
I've embraced it long ago.

creative juices are a-flowin'.

2008-01-23T08:26:00.000-08:00

As I hear melodic tunes billowing out of the speakers, I close my eyes and bask in the sound. When I open them, it's silent. Out the window, something amazing is happening beyond the reality I live in. Snowflakes are cascading quietly down from the sky, and into my backyard, creating a different realm.
...and yet, I'm not taking advantage of it.

Too cold.
Way too cold.
Not as fun when you're alone.

The worries that I stare at in the mirror day to day, right now, are just as ridiculous as myself pondering of going on the cereal diet. So I stare out the window and I let my imagination run wild. I let it run away from the financial burdens, the self-doubt, the melancholy, and before long my imagination is bending over telling them all to kiss its ass.

Even my imagination is snarky and sarcastic.

So I just got finished reading this book that I got with a gift certificate called "Water for Elephants". Basically, it's about railroad circuses in the 1920s and 1930s, focusing, of course on one main character and his love for another, amongst a bunch of side stories. Yeah, a Romeo and Juliet twist in there somewhere. What's great is that after every 3 chapters or so, it time warps back to present day to where the main character is an old man in a nursing home, and it explains in great detail the expected difficulties he faces being "ninety... or ninety three." There's technicalities of the behind-the-scenes stuff that us as "rubes" (that's what they call paying customers) would never know, there's murder, there's sarcasm... a good read. I enjoyed it thoroughly. It's a book I can percieve as being converted to a movie. I hope whomever picks it up for the cinematic idea that they don't fucking ruin it. Nothing frosts my cookies more as when a great book gets ruined.

Alright, Kansas just came up on random. How odd in the morning. Obviously it's to be expected eventually, but for some reason I was surprised. I got in a heated argument with a friend of mine, in regards to The Doors. I know, I just jumped from one band to another in a flash. Bear with me, I'm writing as the things come along in my head. He talked of how they had zero talent, wrote a bunch of drugged-up songs, and Jim Morrison was a hack. Way to state the obvious on the second half of that sentence, sir, but I do believe they had some talent whereas you do not. I just used the word "whereas". Wow.
I'm all for people being entitled to their own opinions, but I'm not all for people that are just looking to hear themselves speak. Hell, I'm sure the ones who read this (which I know isn't many) probably aren't fans of The Doors, but who am I to judge you? That's you, and you, as writers, I'm sure, (lots of commas... just for you, Kevin... haha) have constructive reasoning.
Anyhow! He kept running in circles with his argument, which irritates me because one thing I can't stand is someone who dives into the debate pool with me for a swim and doesn't know how to back the shit up. It's just frustration and anger. So in my response to that, I went down his avenue and said, "yeah? well ICP sucks, so there you go."

It eased the tension a bit. At least I think it did... he's been a bit bent out of shape with me for weeks now, and I can't say I don't blame him. However, I know where my heart lies or will lie, depending on if it's allowed to lie there (I just said lie a lot) and it's not ever going to be there, with said debator.
Sorry, didn't mean to go down that deserted alley, or so to speak. It scares a lot of readers away.

The boys from Brazil made a brave return to the brimstone house last night for Dave and Tommy's radio show (promotion! http://www.brimstoneradio.com/, 7-11pm est), and apparently a video surfaced of myself singing with The Beat-Ups at a show back in October... awkward! I hate myself in videos because I end up seeing my true form which gets me all self-concious and such... I like myself better in photos... if I had to choose.
However, they got scared away because Dave started playing with fire and knives. Way to feed me to the wolves, guys. I LIVE HERE! Don't you think it makes me nervous too?! Jeez.

Dave informed me that his girlfriend was moving out of her house next month, along with all 5 of her other roommates. It's like, $1400 a month for that house. And it's prime. That house is badass, back in my old neighborhood, huge... and all for $1400 a month. If only I could round up people in search of a new home, I'd be there. I miss that neighborhood all too much. I love the house I live in now, but no matter where I look, everything looks dirty. And it's as though I'm merely renting a room here. That bugs me.

Things happen for a reason, right?

So finally

2008-01-20T10:21:00.000-08:00

Finally!
It's my birthday. I'm a year older, and hopefully it'll be a year wiser. I had such a blast this weekend, and it's not even over.
Last night, I went to PsychoFest '08 (insert horror movie girl scream for ambiance) to check out some amazing bands. My friend Sean sang me wished me a happy birthday on stage, which was pretty awesome.
Of course, I got my fair share of drinking (among other things) in, so I was pretty floaty for the rest of the night. Perfect. I don't recall going to the bathroom outside, nor do I remember going to Burger King, but I do remember Sara saying that it tasted like mustard outside.
And now I'm laughing, and I'm laughing hard.
The boys from Brazil are in town (I love working for internet radio, have I stressed that yet?), so they came to the show. Broken english, but they speak very well, to my surprise. When we got back to the house, they sang me happy birthday in portugese. How frickin' awesome is that?!
I'm totally going to chill out all day 'til I get ready for Birthday Dinner... I just realized I don't have a printer to print my free entree' out. So much for being cost effective!

six-thirty a.m.

2008-01-19T05:42:00.000-08:00

I've been up, on a Saturday morning, since 6:30 this morning. 'Twas the only time I could donate plasma.

So last night I beared the craptastical weather (although, it's prime for sledding, I must say.) and drove downtown to a pub known as The Black Rose. Irish, through and through. My friend and his wife invited me down for birthday drinks and some good live music. The music, although a celtic rock of sorts, something of which I'm not supremely adapted to, I dug.
Apparently, they were better back in the day. But who am I to judge? I was a virgin to their shows. I wasn't a virgin to The Black Rose, and I was sorely disappointed when I remembered how much a damn pint was. $5.50, in translation to someone who lives off of each paycheck (not to mention donor money), is equivalent to spending $50. Might as well. Needless to say, ridiculous.

I've been on a crazy Doors kick as of late, and I forgot what it was like to just chill out and listen to a few tunes. I've been in a chill out music stage come to think of it, and it's rather refreshing. Just to close your eyes and give it a listen, a reminisce, and a slight head nod.

I think I'm going to lull myself back to sleep. It's 8:46am, and I have nothing going on until later today. Colleen, a good friend of mine, and this band from Brazil that's been visiting the States, are going to be rolling into town, to pick me up and cart us all off to Lowell for PsychoFest '08 (insert girl scream here for ambiance.). Shall be a good time. For twenty bucks, it better be!

brightness... contrast... saturation... crop...

2008-01-17T08:47:00.000-08:00

I swear, the only thing that keeps me content in harsh weather conditions is photo editing. I finally found a program that hasn't been affected with a computer STD or so to speak, so I've been editing like cuh-razy for the past couple of weeks. I'm in the process of editing pictures from a show back in October... I doubt the bands will care for them now, but we'll see.

Maybe.

I just sneezed, upon reaction, into my shirt... now I feel cold. Ew. Thought you might want to know that. I don't know. I felt the need to type, so here I am.

Okay, something somewhat-- okay, pretty-- serious; I've decided to set some personal deadlines for myself. Basically, if I don't get my shit together, I'm adiosing. Not something I particularily want to do, since I love it here, but if I keep chasing my own tail in circles, I'll be digging into China... or so to speak. However that analogy goes.
I feel confident that I can kick my own self-doubt's ass and get to goin'. I don't want to move back there. No bueno. What's with me using spanish here and there?

So I call my mom the other day, since I missed her call while I was at work, just to chitchat while I was stocking the cooler, still on the clock. I work my way around things, you see. Anyhow, she informs me that she's going to be flying down to see my sister this weekend, "just because". Thanks, mom. Happy birthday to me. Not like you haven't been here to visit me since my last birthday, let alone see the new place I'm living in.
Now, it sounds a bit minor to some, but it really did break my heart and stung quite a bit. And, at first, I thought that she might have forgotten my birthday altogether, but she then adds, "of course we'll give you a call on your birthday"...
At this point, since this incident happened a few days ago, it looks as though I'm overreacting. You can't blame me for hurting a bit still though.

Meh.
Enough bitching for now.

22 years on this planet... my God.

2008-01-15T10:46:00.001-08:00

So my birthday is in 5 days, and I'm crawling out of my skin with excitement. No, really I am! I love birthdays, not neccessarily when they're mine, but hey. It's all in good times, for sure. I plan on rounding up my friends and going out to dinner and doing some bowling, that whole bit.

And yet, my retarded fear senses kick in and I think that nobody's going to show up, which I know won't be the case. You can't blame me for thinking so, because blizzards in the past have prevented people from sharing the festivities with me.

My roommate informed me just now that, for my birthday weekend, it's going to be a whoooo-woppin' 14 flippin' degrees... FOR THE HIGH. I couldn't even imagine the low. Dang. I'm going to have frozen boogers on my septum ring. That's a pain in the ass to clean off, you know frozen boogers...

...anyway.

I've been in high spirits these past few consecutive days, and I'm diggin' it. Winters are usually pretty tough, but I'm getting by. From cuddle seshs with the boy (I'm talking about you, silly.), crazy photo ops (shows, mainly), hanging out with good crowds (those Lowell boys are somethin' else.), and ignoring ridiculous requests of my unreliable best friend, it's all good.

Sad to say that I don't give two shits about my best friend, but hey, he's been nothing but shitty and he's stuck in a "me" complex. Not a fan. All I'm sayin' is that he better be there for my birthday or he's going to get his teeth kicked in.

Me? Violent? Never.

You would think I've be a bit more bitter and unwelcoming to the idea of my job situation dispersing, but I'm not... it could be worse, I keep telling myself. Times are tough for everyone. And I have a feeling that dogs can look up (Shaun of the Dead reference if it's not setting in).

We'll see.

You know what to say...

2008-01-13T20:53:00.001-08:00

Love
You know what to say, and you know that you mean it.
I can still hear our conversations in the dark, and I smile every time. I smile everytime and I cry just a bit each time as well.
"It's refreshing to hear your heartbeat again... it's beating faster now."
"If it is, it's all your fault."

It sounds silly, but I have always dreamed of laying in bed, laughing, cuddling, just plain loving... and I got it to come true.
The problem with that is... it's not true every single day. Now my heart is beating faster and faster, and it's all your fault.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Frustration
So I manage to take some awesome photos in my spare time (hopefully finances will start brewing in). Anywho, when I get totally miffed by good friends of mine, only for someone else to get the well-deserved promotion I've been desperately seeking for, for their average photos, I get bummed and hurt. Not cool, it's like going behind my back.
It's the only thing I have, since the huge part of me that mattered is states away (yes, it's true.), my best friends are on the other side of the state, and the one I live with is a mere stranger now, I have only one thing I am proud of.
Friends are very important to me and when I get hurt like that, it complicates things.
But the more I talked about it over the course of a few days, I figured how utterly ridiculous it sounded.
Call it a girl thing, I don't know. I can overreact sometime, I think I have that right.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Happiness
Hanging out with good friends more and more, and creating some awesome memories and inside jokes... well, it deems good for my health, me thinks. And the more I have fun with the current friends that make me smile, the more it doesn't upset me that my unreliable best friend continues to disappoint me.
I went to the bowling alley last night to an event called the Hot Rodder's Ball. I drank myself retarded, got dizzy, played a game for free, hugged a lot of people, took a lot of pictures, and saw some awesome people I haven't seen in awhile.
ALL THE WHILE, I started up a band with a singer friend of mine. Go figure! We'll see how this works out.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Perseverance
So I'm going to research some classes at a couple of the schools here this week (for sure, I'm not just saying it this time)... I'm not sure what for, but I gotta get goin' on that aspect and figure out what the hell I want to do. I love going to school, to be honest. I procrastinate horribly, but I still love going. I don't want to work at stupidfuck jobs for the rest of my life.

2007-11-02T17:29:00.000-07:00

"He's the Andy Warhol to your Edie Sedgwick. Please, darling, be careful."

Who in their right mind would say that to another human being, when they know that the person they're saying it to, is scared of herself?
If you're unaware of the story of Edie and Andy, then go and rent "Factory Girl". To sum it up, it was the rise of a walking beautiful tragedy of a girl, Edie Sedgwick, and the man who created her, Andy Warhol. So ahead of herself and the careless spirits and controversy, she stumbled into drugs and failed loves and losing all that she had, dying at age 28. She was sucked in... and I don't want to be.

He isn't my Andy, but there must be a reason why a trusted friend would say such a thing.

I continuously ponder, day in and day out, as to why I am the way I am. How I was lucky to have met the people I have, loved the ones I've loved (or still do), and why I'm still alive. And I can't find any answer, but I don't think anyone can when they question the life they're living.

I... wow. I don't know anymore.
I'm drawing blanks, and I'm sketching darker images.
"I'll take the money, and I'll learn from the regrets."

I need a piano.

Who really wants to live in a country that lies all the time?

2007-10-12T09:31:00.001-07:00

It's like being with a cheating spouse, that will never be honest with you in their infedelity. I hate this. This morning, my friend Amber sent me an instant message and informed me to read her latest Myspace bulletin. I had already done so, but didn't bother to watch the video that she posted.

She insisted that I did, and so here I sit, wide-eyed and boggled that the country is lying to us, yet again, about something that affects all year to year.

There is no mandatory income tax law found, ANYWHERE.

It makes you sick, thinking about all the money you had to shell out because the goverment implied and enforced, saying you just HAD to do so. It's a lie. It's been a lie since 1913.

Seriously, first the 9/11 conspiracy (it was a hoax, a greedy greedy hoax... everyone is entitled to their own opinion as listed in the constitution, so that's mine. It may not be yours, but it's mine. Look at all the "coincidences") I now firmly believe in because it was all based on horrible greed, and now this?

My best friend is getting his already shaky paychecks cut in half because he failed to file his taxes, and he is scared shitless because he can hardly get by. Is that fair?

Is anything fair anymore? Anything at all?

Watch the video.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-1656880303867390173

Purging

2007-08-30T13:29:00.001-07:00

So I'm about to share an even older piece from the first post, simply because I have the theory that if I read it and re-write it, or re-type it enough times, I'll eventually be able to brush off the dirt and move on from this melancholy, heartbroken feeling I've been experiencing. I'm running out of things to distract myself.

If you live in the Grand Rapids area, by the way, feel free to shoot me a comment if you know of places that are hiring. Thank you.

A Love Lost... or is it found?

So peacefully, I hear you.
There's a soft morning breeze wafting into your room, from your slightly dirty windows. It kisses my cheek softly, which causes me to stir just a little. Your gentle touch and your calm, sleepy voice coax me to wake up.
You know , what to do to make me feel like I'm floating in space. You hold my face in your hands with such gentle security, afraid I'd fly out the window into the spring air. And so cautiously, you whisper into my exposed ear.

"Good morning."

Kissing my forehead tenderly, then my cheeks, then my ears, causing me to giggle in my sleepy state, you smile warmly. I open my eyes to see you, one that makes me feel at home, bathed in warmth and compassion and kindness. I brush the stray ends out of your face and behind your ear, like I gingerly always opted to do. You reached for my hand that was doing so and squeezed it, kissing it as you smiled.

"I wish we could never get out of bed," you say.

I'm floating. I've never felt so whole. If suddenly I were to lose my ability to breathe and die because of it, I would've been happy in that moment. In that precise moment, as you were caressing my bare back tenderly, I was loving you.

And then, in one assuring, swift move, you embrace me and strike me with a kiss... it couldn't compare to the feeling on Christmas Day. A tear rolls down my face, but I'm smiling, and I lose touch with the horribles, and the terribles, and the woes.

I love you. And...
I screwed up by telling you, causing you to turn away.

I'm sorry. I am sorry that I gave you the letter, but I am not sorry that I wrote it. Or even this. Because if I could, I would go back to that Friday mo.rning in April, and never leave.

So there it is.

I'm a melancholy, poetic being.

My heart has always defined that for me, for as long as I can remember, telling me that I, as a person, would rather think with my heart, than with my own head and logic combined. I miss him so much. I haven't talked to him since before he left. He was the person that didn't have any reason to be scared of me until I gave him one, and I screwed that up. I just have this empty feeling in my stomach whenever I wake up in the morning, and it's horrible.

Sigh.

And this is why I have to move on. Just like I managed in the past. I'm sure some of you can relate. Either that, or you think I'm a fucking idiot, one of the two. But you know what? I'm not prone to moving on. So I won't.

Let me keep my memories, as if they just happened.

I'm reading this book called "The Art of Happiness", a book of which my friend Andrew gave me for Christmas a few years back, and I was stubbornly offended slightly so when he gave it to me, but now I understand why. He knew I was going to need it at my worst moments, and lately it has been pretty bad. I read one chapter of it, and BOOM, I was smiling all over the place. It gives you that, "OF COURSE! Why didn't I think of that before?! Silly me! I'm a stubborn ass!" I can't recall as to who the author is, since I don't have the book sitting next to me, but I will share that later, so you all can read it, I recommend it to anyone, and I didn't even finish a third of the book yet.

But the reason why I brought that up is because it made me think of a lot of significant events that have happened in my life, recently that is. For example, a friend dying, my sister and I in an uncomfortable situation with our family but managing to seek something simplistic that made us both unitedly happy, my dad never wanting me, etc.

So those will be written about, when I manage to sit down and feel creative in a literary sense. Right now, I've been busy drawing, and plotting to become a modern-day gypsy.

I think this one will fit like a glove

2007-08-24T18:53:00.000-07:00

Ah yes,

Good evening all.

I'm fairly new to this blogspot schpiel, so bear with me. I figured, "hey, I can post my real, utmost genuine thoughts on here, compared to the livejournal account I've had for four years, and it'll possibly be read after all!"

I'm going to give being a freelance, non-degree writer a shot for awhile. See where it takes me. I'm panning out my options as of late, for my career move, since I am a grown-up now. Someone once told me that they admired me for the fact that I have so many open doors, so many possibilities, and I'm so optimistic about them all. I never agreed, until after he parted, so now... I should own up to that.

Anyway, here's my latest piece that I jotted down in a ratty notebook I dug out of a box upon unpacking.

Swallowing Rocks
8/12/07

Tears trickle.

"Just answer me one question, please. Why do you want me to stay?"

"Because!" you exclaimed in desperation and honesty, "I will die without you!"

It shocked me.
It honestly did, and I stopped short of gasping, as my eyes grew wide, the size of dirty dinner plates. You looked at me with sad eyes and lost yourself. I lost myself as I knelt next to you, while you were laying on the floor. As if a simultaneous thought were snatched out of the air, we both embrace. The dried theatre blood stained our tears as we sobbed in our revelation. You didn't let go. I didn't let go. It was as simple as that. All you could hear were our quiet and not-so-quiet sobs. It was gut-wrenching, to say the least, for lact of a better adjective.

That was it, what I have wished for. To not be a stranger in my own skin, to hear what I mattered to someone. To have such intense honesty in a long overdue conversation. To finally hear what the definition of this life was. I never want the memory to go away. Never.

Your voice is still ringing in my ears, like the opening chord to a blissful song. I cling to it, and hold on. You have mended my heart, upon it being so broken from an absent, beautiful feeling I once had.

Perspectives have changed from this point on.

And God damn it, when you held my face with your long, slender hands and kissed me, I felt like I was in a different dimensional version of home. My breathing dispersed...

...and then I woke up.

What the hell does that even mean?! He who is mentioned in this piece is my best friend, and that's how it will always be.

I never did get my answer from the one I wrote my heart to on notebook paper. It took so much courage and honesty to do such a thing; come on, my heart was on the line, here. I don't know... who knows what the future may bring.