So....

Wow, it's been a million years.

If not in actuality, at least in my mind.

Ohio, said boyfriend of the beginning of the year . . . deuce bag. Lol. Yes, I know, must be polite, but still.

On another note, I'm engaged. :) To the best man I could have possibly wished for. He's in the army, and . . . well, do you remember U.? Lol. Yeah.

Ugh (but still happy).

I really don't want to update right now. I don't feel like typing up for ages trying to remember all that has happened in the last however many weeks.

Sorry.

Suffice it to say, I have a boyfriend now. :D He's from Ohio, but we first met over Facebook a few weeks before our first day (which sounds absolutely ridiculous, and stupid, lol), and coincidentally we were both going to the same college, so we became friends, etc etc etc. Lol. Buuut . . . he's sweet, funny, a little bit crazy, and a lot guy. But he makes me laugh, and he seems to think I'm tiny, so it all works out. ;)

Classes are going great. A TON of reading in my english and italian history classes (like, reading the Aeneid, The Twelve Caesars, Dante's Inferno, etc). Easy to fall behind in those. Psychology is okay, there's a guy who sits behind me who's from virginia, and I just can't help but grin every time I hear him speak. He looks like a guy I can picture wearing one of those confederate uniforms from the Civil War way back when, and it just makes me all goofy inside, lol.

A lot of guys here are from Sweden, some from England, one guy I know is from Kenya, which is awesome. But irregardless, there are a lot of cute guys here. Which I love. And I like to think I can usually tell just by looking at a guy if he's from Europe or somewhere not in the US. The guys from Sweden and England just have a totally different body frame structurally, it's crazy. They don't look like aliens or anything, but they do look . . . well, different. It's pretty cool to hear them speak too. :D

College is a lot more fun than I thought it would be. I didn't think I'd fit in so well with this new routine. My roommate are now quite excellent friends, which I love. And she has a car, and is willing to ride a bike whenever I get the urge to go out and ride (even if it's late lol).

I tried out for the play here, which is "Almost, Maine" and I got a little minor part. BUT - I don't mind, sort of. Mostly because I've never done any sort of acting before, and I think it will be fun. I also know rehearsal will leave me less and less time for homework and . . . well, boyfriend, lol. But if falling asleep on his bed (while I pretend to study) is the only time we can spend together during the week, then I can deal with that lol. Although, he is becoming rather fond of tickling me (now that he's found my only ticklish spot, which took him a while to find, little persistent devil, lol), so maybe I won't be sleeping, lol.

Speaking of which, I'm extremely tired right now. I nearly fell asleep in Calculus earlier, which is probably not a good idea lol. I had yoga earlier, which seemed to wake me up for a while, but then I had math, and that totally reversed it lol. I think it may have something to do with the fact that I didn't get to bed until midnight, and got up at six. Only because I was hanging out in my boyfriend's room (I love saying that, but how about we call him H.?) until his roommate came home, and then he walked me back to my dorm. :) That just makes me happy thinking about it.

Anyway, I was going to take a nap right now, but I decided to write this post instead. I hope you're satisfied enough with this update, because I'm not sure how well I could go over it again. Lol.

Anyway, I gotta go now, so I'll update in another few weeks (if I know me, lol).

Have fun! Laugh often.

:)

FRESHMAN . . . .

So, long time in updating, I see this.

Umm. Yeah, so my old roommate found out she couldn't attend first semester, so I have a new roommate now. She's best friends with my old roommate and she's pretty cool as well.

For freshman orientation they're having us go camping for the next three days. And then classes start on Monday. Woohoo.

My dorm room is a lot roomier than I thought it would be, and I have my own bathroom.

Umm, just got food, because we don't have our IDs for another four days, and we were kinda starving ourselves. Lol.

So yeah, tired, gotta get ready for bed.

There's my update.

So many new people, so awkward to meet them. Here's college for ya. :)

YaY!

I just met my new roommate! I'm excited, like, REALLY excited. :D

She sounds pretty cool, and reminds me a lot of one of my best friends. Which is absolutely awesome. Turns out, the reason she never replied to my emails were because she never checks her email.

*jumps up and down with glee*

This has truly made my day. I can't stop grinning.

I was so petrified that I was going to get a surly roommate for next year. Turns out I'm not.

Yay! ;)

Ta for now!

Wow.

It really hit me last night. Hard.

I haven't cried like that in a while.

I'm sure the book I was reading didn't help, because it gave me a whole other perspective to view this from, and a whole other kind of future to envision. (Dear John by Nicholas Sparks, by the way.)

I can't wait for his first letter. I can't wait to see him in five months.

I really hope . . . I don't know. I hope time flies, I hope he doesn't forget me, I hope he doesn't change too much.

He knows me better than anyone else. He knows more about me than anyone, he knows things I haven't told another soul.

It hurts to know he's somewhere else, and I can't make sure he's okay.

Right now, all I can do is write. Write until I see him again.

Write - until it all goes away.

Because, maybe I love him. Or maybe, maybe I'm fooling myself. Maybe I just need something to cling to, or a reason to push other guys away.

But, when he was on his way to the airport, he texted me "I really was contemplating on whether or not to kiss you on monday" among many other things I don't feel like divulging.

Who can I talk to about this, though? Who would understand what I'm not even sure I do?

I know he's one of my best friends. But . . . is he more?

I can picture being at the airport when he gets back. I can picture what we might do when he gets here in December. I can picture all the letters. And yet, I'm absolutely ready to be disappointed. It always happens that way.

Anyway. I need to stop wallowing. My life is not over, and I will survive.

Ta for now.

***On a side note, updating you here in 2013 long after this post was originally written: The guy I am talking about in this post, we did start dating, and now, he is my husband. We'll be celebrating our third year anniversary in October. Thought you'd like to know. :) ***

Short Update

My mom has decided to stop talking to me, all because I don't want my brother to move into our house (after she bailed him out of jail). She's avoiding me as well. She hasn't spoken to me for about six days now. What a child, huh?

One of my best friends just left for boot camp. I won't see him for another five months.

I've just learned who my new roommate for college will be. She honestly doesn't seem like she's either nice, like we have anything in common, or like we'll get along all that well. Oh well. I suppose I'll see, if she ever decides to email me back.

I'm bored out of my mind, and a little sad. The house is quiet. And I'm currently reading far too many books at the same time.

What a life.

Oh well.

PS>

My mom did bail on me after all, on the fourth of july.

I never added that on, did I.

She started making some pineapple cookies, got a call from him, and -

Well, you get the picture don't you.

I had to make the rest of them for her. I didn't finish baking and frosting those cookies 'til 2:30 in the morning, and then she came home half an hour later, drunk, scarfs down about four cookies, and stumbles to bed.

Staying up late tonight, and a few nights before this as well, I've seen her come home drunk EVERY time.

Such a role model. Oh yes, something to look forward to emulating.

Not.

She's just one of many examples of who I don't want to be.

I wonder.

Is it just me who thinks Daniel Radcliffe is gay?

I don't know.

I can't look at a picture of him and not think so.

Perhaps I'm just mean.

Rupert is absolutely gorgeous, and Emma is beautiful, of course, but seriously, I do think Dan is gay.

And I can't look at a picture of him and think otherwise.

Oh well.

Happy Fourth of July.

Please tell me why it has to hurt so much more when it's family that stands you up.

Tonight it feels like the last straw.

I'm so exhausted from my hiking trip, and last night when I got back, after I sent M. a letter saying I needed to think about what he's said, he replied with a letter saying he was stupid, indecisive, and a dumbass for not asking me out when he physically had a chance, and then followed that letter up with another telling me "never mind" and that he works too much as it is so we should just forget even trying. And that's a good thing, but it just feels like another kick in the ribs.

My sister just bailed on me for 4th of July, and I know that if my mom's boyfriend was in town, she would too, if she isn't going to tonight as it is.

I feel like my self-esteem is at another low tonight.

If things weren't pointless enough as it is, this has only shown me just how much I'm wasting my time.

She (for liz) - Parachute
You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift
Where is the love? - Black Eyed Peas
Still Ain't Over You - Augustana
Shattered - OAR
Always on my Mind - Phantom Planet
Gravity - The Fold
Up Against the Wall - Boys Like Girls
Drive Away - All American Rejects

For the day.

M. sent me a letter yesterday at about 11. I only got to read it momentarily before I went to bed.

Guess what it said?

"So, basically I realized I probably screwed up everything. I ruined it and messed everything up. I was stupid to never act and I will understand if you have moved on. I hope that I can have another chance to make things right."

(sigh)

What do I do? Honestly. Because I don't know anymore. I really don't.

I'm helping my sister move today. I still don't have my notebook (and I left it at my grandma's over a week ago), and dear god, it is killing me. I'm at the point where I'm even considering using the unlined sketch notebook, that U. got me for my birthday, to write in. Is that desperate or what? But this lack of my notebook is squashing my inspiration quite effectively. Frustrating.

My book list for next year costs about 300+ dollars, not to mention the HUGE list of stuff I need to buy for the dorm. On the bright side, I found some extra-long twin sheets at Target, in a color I can stand. So now I don't have to buy them from the school in bizarre colors combinations.

Another plus: my sister's new apartment has a storage space. Now, I have a place where I can put my all of my books and stuff while I'm in the dorms. Such a relief, I have to admit.

My mom told me that she'll keep my cat when I go to the dorms, which is a HUGE relief. I didn't know what I was going to do with him when I moved, and I didn't want to take him to the pound or give him to someone new (who would have probably been out of state, since it was my stepdad who was offering to find him a new home). As for my other cat, the more unruly one, I still don't know.

My room is an utter mess, and I'm making NO progress on my book, or writing in general. Not to mention, my research is at a stand-still.

I've been sorta-chatting on Facebook with a guy who's going to Rocky next year. He's pretty cool, but he's also under the misconception (no matter how many times I've tried to tell him otherwise) that I'm "tiny." We're the same height, and he's about forty pounds lighter than me, and he keeps telling me that "he's fat." I feel like there's some role-reversal in play right here, but maybe that's just me. Ah well, he's good to talk to, in any case. Very flattering, lol, as well as good motivation. Can't wait to meet him in person come August.

Anyway, I have to get ready now. Time is running out for the morning.

Ta.

Emptiness.

There isn't anything there.

It's an emptiness, and I can feel it.

A nothingness, and I haven't got a clue how to fill it.

I suppose there's a reason I've always hated summer the most, because it all seems so pointless, now it's brought to my attention.

And if it's pointless, what am I to do?

Too much is starting to feel out of my control. There isn't anything behind it all, and that's what drives me to this.

I'm starving, but I'm not hungry. I'm tired, exhausted, worn out, but I can't fall asleep. I'm thirsty, but I refuse to drink anything.

But really, I'm just frustrated. I'm so lost, right now, and I haven't a clue why. Worst of all, I have no idea how to find my way back.

I'm afraid this will persist even when school starts at the end of August.

Even more, though, I'm absolutely terrified that, instead of finding my way out of this, I'll just give up.

And (what I don't want to think about) what actually happens when I do?

All I know is, it's making me angry, this nothingness. All I know is, it's killing me inside, this emptiness. Hollowed out. Eaten from within.

Self-pity, I loathe it. What if that's what I'm feeling? Am I a hypocrite then? Or maybe that isn't it. I don't know. I just feel pathetic, and boneless, and pointless, and infuriated at myself and everything around me.

I'm killing myself slowly and I don't even know why.

And at this very moment, no matter what anyone says to me, all I want to do is tell them to just 'fuck off.' I know I can't, but I want to.

And the worst part is, I can't even write. And that, that kills me more than anything else combined.

Quiet.

I feel strangely alone today. Alone, and I suppose, lonely.

I've been trying to read, trying to not be an emotional eater, and listening to a bunch of Mozart and Bach, as well as Ingrid Michaelson. Nothing seems to sound good to me today.

I want silence, but I can't stand the sound.

This is all rather silly.

- - -

I'm Not Alright - Sanctus Real



I don't feel like typing up a post. But I thought it would be nice to let some of the world know that I'm still here.

I'm gonna go take a walk now.

Oh, and don't read too much into the song. It was just the first one I could find to listen to this morning. And if it works because it says what I feel, when I don't know what I feel right now, then yay, I guess I'm that good.

Ta, now.

Update, if anything.

I don't really have anything to say.

I got a new phone, an actual real one, instead of that old tracphone I had.

And now, apparently, U. feels free as a bird to text me for hours. We talk through texting, which isn't so bad. But he told me that apparently he and his girlfriend have already told each other they love each other. . . friends or not, I don't want to hear it. (sigh)

Ah well. I'll live.

Anyway, I had a dream about my dad last night. And so far we've exchanged some emails, which is way more than has been in a long while.

Anyway, that's all. I'm going to go nurse my knee, which has a cut on it thanks to my cats. I just know it'll leave a scar. (sigh) I hate it when they gang up on me and I walk into the corner of my desk, lol.

Such is life.

Ta!

Happy Birthday to me . . .

Is it wrong to feel jealous?

I hate being the third wheel out. Or was it fifth wheel? Either way, it was me and other couples.

The night sky just isn't as beautiful that way.

And in the end, I'm still cold, aren't I? When the breeze rustles through the trees overhead, and caresses my face as though it knows why I have my back to them, when it wraps itself around me as I walk away to the hammock twenty feet away, I'm still cold, am I not?

And at the end of the night, when U. drops me off last and gives me a hug, it doesn't seem so bad, and I feel lighter, and then I get back into my room, and realize - it still isn't the same.

One day, I will get this right before it's too late. One day, I won't be afraid to get it right the first time. And, one day, I won't have an excuse.

That day seems far off, though.

And I'm still cold, and I'm still alone.

I feel like I'm whining, now.

So goodnight.

My Sweet Song - Toby Lightman

I'm pretty sure now -

M. is gay.

Is it harsh to say it that way?

But I guess, it's partly true.

I just finished reading "A Clock Without Hands" by Guy Burt. It is amazing. And it had me crying towards the end. It took a while to get adjusted to the way it was written, how it seems to jump between four different times in the main character's life, but it's really good. I think it was the perfect thing for me to have read at just this moment in my life. It deals with a lot of stuff I've been thinking about lately, especially how a lot of us only seem to live in the past. What I mean is, I only ever understand things after I have no way to change them, to fix them. So, we get lost in the past, finally piecing things together, while we continue to struggle to wade through the present, while life before us continues to puzzle us completely. It also deals with a lot of other things, some that were just so heartbreaking to read. But it was perfect for right now.

Anyway.

It's my birthday today.

It should be a good thing, but instead, it feels just like all the others. Everyone's life continues on the way they're going, and this day doesn't change a thing. My birthday has never been this great big special thing, so, I suppose, that's how I have come to see it. But that doesn't stop the anticipation, as if I'm still hoping that something might happen. That isn't likely though. And I don't really expect it anymore. Everyone is always busy with work and life, I'm just a second thought anymore, if that.

Oh, and I got an email from my dad last night. I read it today, and he wished me a happy birthday, as well as spouting a bunch of other stuff about how he prays for me everyday. He's an ordained minister, now. He took two months to reply to my letter, and the one I sent before that didn't even get a response. But he "loves" me. I'll tell you what, I feel the love.

I feel the love.

Ta.

Better, isn't it?

I feel light, right now. So . . . free. Lol.

My mind is focused on "PS I Love You." You know the movie? (It makes me a little bit melancholy, but that's okay.)

Well, I'm listening to the soundtrack (which is all fabulous music).

And the song 'More Time' by Needtobreathe is what I've been listening to with a lot of favoritism. Lol. Odd way to say that. In other words, I really like this song. As well as 'If I ever leave this world alive' by Flogging Molly. Great song as well.

Anyway. Starting the lengthy research on my book, now. Rented a huge, heavy stack of books from the library earlier today. Now, time to sift through it all. Fun stuff (no, not really sarcastic, kind of serious actually). And it would be even more fun if I didn't have to take such a long time to read it. I wish I read faster. *sighs* Oh well.

Alright. Now, I'm going to get off the computer and either a) sleep, or b) read and then fall asleep on my bed. Lol. I'm thinking probably the former, but who knows in life?

Like, did I expect U. to come out and start dating one of my friends (who I'm going to college with in the fall)? Or, did I expect M. to post a note on facebook saying he has (and I quote exactly) "fallen too hard and too fast for someone" that he has known only "for a very short time, weeks in fact." I mean, I knew he didn't really like me, but wow. Plus, there goes Mr. Inarticulate spouting what could morph into agonized, unrequited love poetry quite easily. Makes me feel rather, well, put out. I guess. I mean, I don't like him, but I can't help feeling like a two-year old, throwing a little temper tantrum, stamping my foot and shouting "Why couldn't I have made him do that?!" Lol. Sad.

But, things are resolved this way, which is what I wanted. And I'm happy for it.

Now, I can get on with focusing on my life, and getting things done.

YES!

Lol. Ta!

Drunken Lullabies - Flogging Molly (don't ya just love them?) ;)

What I wrote somewhere else a couple days ago.

My poor, poor notebook. Its pages get more traffic than it can ever hope to withstand. I suppose the same could be said of my mind: when it starts, it never wants to stop. So, here below are some of last night's thoughts for you to peruse.

6/16/09
Ahh, what is wrong with us? We set up this illusion of elegance, of Hollywood-perfect blissfulness. We create this image to soothe our anxieties and low self-esteems, our doubts, while provoking a bone-deep jealousy and yearning for what we know can’t be just around the corner, or down the block. Life isn’t this way, and it ruins us.

I just watched The Truth about Cats & Dogs and if you’ve ever seen it, you’d just know. This thing that we do, out of books, and movies, and so on, creates this great big fallacy out of life. They make it seem easy, even when they don’t. Because the beauty of books and movies is that they have a definitive beginning, an agonizing middle, and a typical end. It’s all mapped out with a surety, through difficulties, through heartbreak. We can easily define when things are going to get better and end happily ever after. If you’ve read The Thirteenth Tale, you’ll understand what I mean. Life doesn’t go on without these things, this trifecta.

Yet life is nothing like this. It takes a huge slap in the face for realization to set in that The Truth about Cats & Dogs doesn’t set the typical pattern. Those kinds of movies aren’t exactly the truth. The guy doesn’t always fall in love with the complete, physical opposite of the tall blonde and beautiful, whether or not the blonde is a complete and utter idiot. And it’s movies just like that that make us want to believe it does happen.

Stories like that which make me want to believe it. Life is the reality I have to wake up to in the morning, however. A reality which fairly pulls my heart out of my chest with a desperate yearning for the very illusions that surround us every day. It makes the things I do seem hollow, like fillers, meaningless babble in the middle of a story as I wait for the real stuff to begin. This ache in my chest makes me feel smaller in the midst of galaxies. I feel like an ant among giants, seeing things from a wholly different perspective, and completely incapable of reconciling the two points of view. Sometimes, I get a sense that overpowers other thoughts, the impression that there is an entire lifetime full of things that I am missing out on. I even feel like I’m doing something wrong, that my actions prevent the cessation of this terrible, throbbing pain inside my chest. And I can feel it, too, it isn’t just a vague idea in my mind. It’s there, pulsing with its own life, every time I breathe.

I have tried to be patient, tried to talk reason to myself in the darkest hours. Hell, I’ve even written stories and poems to calm the protests, and lay to rest the images and ideas, hopes and wistful, wishful scenes within my heart. And it works, too, for a while. But the wrong thing, the precise placement of key events and phrases, the – how do you say? – celestial alignment of specific words, which trigger memories, work against me. Unfortunately for my peace of mind, too many things seem to spark volatile, significant memories in my mind’s eye. My imagination quickly takes over.

Quite simply, I can’t find the words to describe how I feel anymore, except maybe blank, vague, restless, distant, or apathetic. But that isn’t it either. It’s a distinct perspective I’m looking from, a peculiar side of things from which I observe the world. Perhaps I am too cognizant of the lack of what I see. I know there’s something missing, and the realization almost kills me with the knowledge. It’s all bound up within me, bursting with frankness, too much of the truth for blind acceptance, because I can see it nearly everywhere I look.

There is something vital, something elemental, that is quite simply missing from my life, missing from the world around me, something that starves my words and hollows my meanings and makes everything I do utterly pointless.

I wrote the phrase down an hour ago, before I even understood it, I think. It was all by itself, in that sort of stark honesty we all seem to shy away from, but that the stories we see and read seem to want to force back upon our consciousness. I wrote this sentence before I actually knew how far down it spreads its roots, before I could see how right it really is. I don’t want to accept that this is the reason things appear empty or unimportant, but when I truly sort through it all, it becomes undeniable. When I look back on all I’ve written, I know that it’s true.

Essentially: I want to fall in love.

And until I do, I am quite sure I will continue to wonder just what it is in life that I don’t see. Until I do, all my stories of love will continue to fall flat on themselves, too heavy with uncertainty, too structurally flawed, to support the ideas they stand for.

In this instance, it simply isn’t sustaining enough to imagine.


As you get to the end, this may seem like the answer, the bulk of my words a worthy enough explanation, but it’s not. For me, it is incomplete, still. Perhaps because, if I want to be especially cruel to myself and my memory, I know that I already missed out on my chance. I missed out on my chance two years ago when I fucked everything up. But like all things, I only realized it too late. Much too late, because, you see, he’s dead. How bittersweet can life get, when you see a picture, or remember? Countless times, I remember. I did tonight. I even wrote a poem about it. But, that wasn’t enough to stop me thinking. Damnation, why must I think so much?! All I want to do is sink into oblivion, sink into the nothingness and sleep. But my mind doesn’t listen to my heart. It never really has.

And that, my friends, is the actual answer.

If I had listened closely, if I hadn’t followed through on the wrong train of thought, if I hadn’t jumped to conclusions and just listened to the common sense my heart was hinting at, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

Love was never about impulsive thoughts which inevitably lead to impulsive, foolish actions. It’s about impulsive emotions that inevitably lead you to the right person. It was never about what you didn’t want to do, didn’t want to happen, didn’t want to feel, but instead, all the things you never thought you could do or feel. Love is about uncovering that hidden part of yourself which you always wondered about. Love is finding the right kind of reality, and reconciling those two, separate points of perspective.

And if it isn’t, then what is the need to find it even about? Because clearly, I don’t understand anymore.

- - -

Ah, my heart grieves me tonight.

Such a yearning, such hopelessness at this pull from within.

I want to fall in love.

Is that so much to ask for?

Maybe it's just me.

Writers have the highest hopes of all.

Why?

Our imagination is indulged in ways other people's are not.

And because of this, it produces devastating results.

A poem . . . I think.

WITH ME

This is ridiculous, but

everytime he posts a song, just the lyrics,

he always gets my hopes up that, just this once,

he was able to dig deep enough, search long enough,

to find the words to tell me how he feels,

to be like the guy he needs to be, the guy I need him to be,

to write something just for me,

and make me fall in love with him.

And when it turns out I'm wrong, every time, just a song

it hurts, and it stings, and I wonder again:

Can he meet me halfway? Will he ever be here?

Will he care half-enough just to be?

I would like you to meet: Short Attention Span. The one, the - OH! Look at that . . . .

Favorite song for the briefest of moments?

I Wanna - The All-American Rejects

Why? I don't know. Maybe the fact that the lead singer's voice is so incredibly different from what it usually sounds like, lol. Ah, well. But his voice sounds so nice in this song. And the lyrics are pretty good, as well. He, however, doesn't look nearly so cool. *snorts inelegantly*

Anyway. Just got my final report card in the mail today, after over a week since graduation. Which isn't so long, but still - the waiting, the agonizing, the suspense, lol. And guess what?!! Yeah, I pulled off a 4.0 even in my last semester. *grins, coolly flares out collar* Even in math, which I was absolutely convinced was a hopeless case. Here I was, contentedly believing that I would have a, maybe, B, with something like an 81% in the works. But, nope, I had an A. What a freaking idiot that teacher must be, to give me such a grade. *winks*

Yes, I know, I'm being obnoxious. *chuckles to self* Still, you must give me some slack, for it is (checks clock) about ten after one in the morning. *sighs dejectedly* I really ought to get to bed.

Shit. I was also supposed to call L. tonight. *looks innocently around bedroom* Um, huh. *clicks tongue obnoxiously* I could call her now (at *checks clock again* about a quarter after 1 [midnight where she's at]), which isn't nearly so bad as her calling me at 1:30 last week, lol. Or, I could wait and call her tomorrow night. That is, if I remember. Or . . . not. *purses lips thoughtfully*

You know, I really am tired, and - *yawns loudly* - maybe she'll already be sleeping, or - shit, I should just admit it now, I only want to finish the short story I started earlier, before I got distracted by - OH!

I remember now. *sits up straight* I finally got the hypnotism in the mail, from the party graduation night. It was absolutely hilarious, I was laughing so hard in the beginning I was actually crying. The things that hypnotist made them do were just priceless. I was so excited, I had to show my mom all I could before she went and left to go see her boyfriend. *slumps*

Anyway. *winks*

I was a little disappointed at the recording of the hypnotism. The guy who did it didn't spare much money over it, I'll tell you what. Very poor quality. But oh well. It's better than nothing, in any case.

And . . . because it's getting late, I'm starting to feel like an odd little child with all of my ramblings, and mostly, because I am quite eager to finish my short story (if I can) I believe I will end this post.

A little humor, I hope it contained. *grins*

Night y'all.

. . . Though on second thought, this post was probably more on the side of incoherence. Lol. My apologies.

Randomosity in a nutshell, if that's even a word. ;)

This post will, I hope, be considerably shorter than the last few have been.

I suppose I just wanted to update.

I'm finally, actually, working on my book right now. I can't vouch for actual additions (in any supreme length) or extensive editing, but I've been doing little minor touches here and there. Not to mention the fact that I have got the next chapter (chapter 28, unbelievable as it is) all mapped out, I just need to figure out the logistics of it so I can write it out in full. I reached my 240 page marker today, which is thoroughly exciting.

I've also hit a bit of a dilemma. My antagonist comes down with some sort of fatal illness, one which I haven't quite figured out. It's very complicated to the plot-line, and exhausting doing the research on it to match things up, because it can't be highly contagious, or my protagonists will die as well. I've been doing some more research tonight, as I did some months ago when I hit this roadblock, but I still haven't really uncovered just the perfect disease. The time period (which the book is in) is appropriate enough for the Black Death, but - the symptoms for the least fatal version (ie. the only version of it not able to be passed human to human) doesn't have the symptoms I'm really looking for. I've almost decided it should just be some sort of pneumonia, but I can't really be satisfied with the fatality rate of it, or the rapidness of the illness itself.

Hm. Yeah, odd thing to be thinking of, no doubt. (grins)

I'm still debating what to do with my father. I've been talking to L. (my best friend) who's gone down to visit her mom for a week and half, and to see her new little half-brother. She's partly the reason I haven't gotten to bed before three in the morning for about a week. But, a lot of that is me, too. Lol.

Anyway, I haven't really got anything of substance to impart.

I finally picked up the book I need to study to get my driver's license. So, I should be able to get that out of the way by at least the end of the month. (winks) I honestly will get it done though, finally, I have full confidence in myself. (sticks tongue out at incredulous looks from imaginary audience) . . . .

Um. Yeah.

I'm rather enamored of peace sign necklaces. I've only just (finally - which seems to be my favorite word at the moment) bought my first one. I don't buy necklaces often, and I never seem to find any peace sign necklaces that I like. But, the above necklace is just something I found online. Isn't it awesome? (grins)

And this one, you have to look a little closer to see the charms on it, but, I think it's quite charming (if you'll excuse the pun). Lol.

And lastly:

Though mine is only on a little silver chain. Oh well. Life goes on. (winks)

Ta, then.

I'm not cruel - just lost in my own world. Judge accordingly.

I feel like I have been very neglectful and careless of this blog lately. I think it is because I am having a hard enough time sorting through things on my own to want to concentrate long enough to organize it all into a post. It's too much for twenty minutes of my time. Far too much.

My stepdad has finally left today. I applied for a job, scheduled an interview for today, but I didn't go. Also, M. finally asked me out (I don't remember whether I said that or not), and we went to lunch today, and though he did better than the first date we had two and half years ago, he still wasn't nearly the best sort of lunch companion. He talked all throughout the affair, and I didn't really get to say anything. He didn't talk about anything important whatsoever, or interesting. All I could think was that U. actually talks to me. He actually asks how I am, and seems interested, and listens. U. actually invites conversation, a back and forth sort of thing, with two participants. And then I go and think, well, that doesn't make much difference if I'm not attracted to either of them. And then, U. goes to boot camp in mid-July. And, a lot of people thought M. was gay. And sometimes, he kind of acts like he is. My mind is a little maze of pretzels and false lights and, what are those called, those illusions you see in the middle of a desert that aren't really there? I don't know. I don't understand myself. At all. I hate it, but that's it.

And then I think, this is my fault. I started this. I wouldn't be in this situation at all if I had never told M. that I like him. This would have never happened if I had remembered why I never continued trying to 'date' him two years ago. This would all be so much easier if I simply thought these things through, thoroughly, before I went and jumped off the deep end and assumed that I was head over heels for a guy that used to always annoy me, a guy who I feel a vague sense of pity for because he can't seem to understand the things he does wrong. A guy I never actually liked. Is that it?

Another case of "I like because I'm afraid I can't have." I only started to slowly 'like' him when I thought he didn't like me, right? I think that's what this is. A stupid, silly, jealous sort of possessiveness. It's ridiculous, it's selfish, it's horribly rude and cruel and mean. I don't like people who do this, I hate people who do this. And I went and did it myself. But we only see these things in retrospect, don't we?

What did I write in my notebook the day I "realized" he wouldn't make a move and ask me out? I think it was the last day of school, the day I decided "what the hell?" and went out with U. and some other friends. I took a bloody chance, and gave U. the impression that I like him. And maybe I did that night, under the damn stars. Maybe I did. I don't know. But I do know that intimacy scares me, makes me awkward, I tend to avoid it. And on a regular day, it's really bloody rare if I ever touch someone, on the hand, shoulder, hug, whatever. I never have actual human contact. Is that sad? Perhaps I shy away from it. I've often thought (and wondered), babies can't live without physical contact, so how do we, in this world? How do we?

I don't know. I like hugs, though. And when I hug a guy, I usually, really want a damn hug. But whenever I hugged M, he didn't have the right sense to it. Sure, it was long enough, but it wasn't the kind that gave me a sense of being held like I often want out of a hug. And U. He gives just the right kind of hug, but his, so far, have never, ever been long enough. He doesn't hold on long enough, not enough to make me feel better.

Anyway, in my notebook (and this will be long, I'm sorry), I wrote: (and here's me trying to work things out, all in this itty bitty, teeny tiny post (ironic, I know). So, sorry if it isn't organized, or if it's repetitive, I guess I'm trying to utilize what I've got to sort of understand what the hell is going on in my shadowed, complicated fucking head.)

-------
(5/29/09)
It's happened before, and everyone knows of it. Therefore, it would be irrelevant for me to ask you: Is it possible to fall for the wrong guy? Unrequited anything, yes it does exist. And it seems that is what I have done. Or, in a way, fallen too late. I've crashed to the ground. I forgot to check behind me first.

Oh well.

At least, with today being the last day of school (ever), I can hide. I can practice my expression of happiness, carefree and unaffected.

All I wanted was a hug, all I was was avoided. A single word, even if in the negative, would have been far better than this limbo, this wondering if he even read the letter or not.

Either way, he's too passive. So perhaps it's a good thing that nothing happened. I won't have to worry about being in a relationship where I might (potentially) be the only one who makes a move, the one who puts myself (my heart) on the line, and has to wait for him, wait and see - will he, or will he not? It would not be a very satisfactory relationship, that is for sure.

Nevertheless, it still hurts a little. He wanted a hug from one of my friends (while we were in the last period of our last day of school), all he wanted from me was a picture. But at least I feel numb, and not devastated. I decided to walk home rather than impose on anyone else's time today. I already felt like I was intruding everywhere. In the end, all I wanted to do, all I still want to do, is isolate myself. Go in the corner, and abandon them before they abandon me, before I can have the chance to feel resentful of their lack of attention.

-------
And just an ending note, I never got the time to hide. My stepdad lingered, and I never got any rest, and I never got a break from everyone else. My walk home was relaxing (if hot) and I got to feel a small sense of peace within myself. But - I never got the chance to hide. And I still have the guilty feeling that I've abandoned my health, I haven't exercised in at least a week or more, and that makes me feel even more awful and terrible. That last week of May feels a year ago, it seems like a whole other section of my life. And, though M. wrote to me (when he told me he still liked me) he said "I have never stopped falling for you. I have always cared for you" well, he doesn't convince me in the way he acts.

Sadly enough, the old saying is true, 'the actions make the man.' They also convince, and persuade, and reveal the actual truth. Shy or not, he honestly doesn't seem to act (in my eyes) like he likes me. He doesn't persuade me to believe it. He never shows any actual interest in me, in how I'm doing. A little bit over an email (that he likes me, not concern or interest in me as a person), maybe, but I'm just an idea to him, I think. And if he's gay (and I don't go around - ever - saying a guy is gay, this would be the first and only time I've ever actually done this), well, if he is gay, then I'm just the 'crush' he's hanging onto to convince himself he's straight, I'm the age-old idea, the one-time "I like you so much", that he can't let go of, for his own safety and peace of mind. And he simply doesn't want to be persecuted in his own mind, to believe he might have to restructure his entire process of thinking. IF that were true, would it explain why he's so uncomfortable around one of our friends (who is gay), would it explain his vague homophobia? Now I'm going overboard. I'm just saying, I don't think he likes me, I just think he thinks he likes me, if that makes any sense.

So I'll repeat my title. I'm not cruel, just lost in my own mind, my own world, and trying to make sense of it so I can get out alive. So, please, judge accordingly. I never mean to be mean, or selfish, or ambiguous, or confusing, or wavery and indecisive and so typically "woman" (as men seem to see it). I don't mean to be downright unintelligible or indescribably impossible to understand. I just can't figure anything out, I'm so goddamn lost. This shit is too confusing for me, and I don't exactly know anyone well enough, close enough, to spill this all onto. To get advice, to ask for help, to see if someone else can understand me (when I honestly can't). If I ever did, I'd be worried about their reaction, and absolutely guilty for performing what I like to call "word vomit" on an innocent passerby. If you've read all of this, an astounding feat I cannot begin to comprehend, then I'm, well, astounded, curious at your taste in reading, and slightly comforted that someone might read this (though entirely clueless as to your comprehension of what I've written, or your ending interest, or your opinion of me now). Wow, I write a lot. But, even though I have no clue who you are, or where you are, or what you're thinking, I'm still afraid that you might judge me unfavorably. That I might come out of this dissection in a harsh light, in a worse way. I don't want your bad opinion, and I don't even know who you are. That, too, is sad.

(sighs)

Another note, in my notebook, I wrote a while ago in response to some guy's statement of girls, and how they don't want to be figured out. Well, I wrote:

Correction - They don't like to feel vulnerable, and when their emotions are on display, they do. Men are pre-programmed, it seems, to not know (entirely) what to do in the face of emotion - real, devastating, heart-stopping, can't-go-on emotion. Men have that reputation of feeling lost or awkward, they fumble their way through anything. And the less careful they are, the more we're bound to get hurt. So for the sake of safety, usually where our hearts are concerned, we hide our emotions. We hide them, and hope some guy is sensitive enough to see them himself, for what they are, and handle with care, appropriately.

(deep sigh)

Any girl worth a guy's time simply wants to be understood. And usually, they don't even know what they're feeling themselves. Right? Or have I only generalized my gender based on my opinion? Who knows. Whatever.

Anyway. I think I've had enough thinking for the night. My head is hurting, looks like a headache. Time for what many like to call "responsibility." I think. Or maybe it's simply time to go to bed. To try to sleep. To try to stop thinking, and stop analyzing, and stop worrying and sinking myself in anxiety. The future is ambiguous, and completely indefinite. I cannot divine it, I know I should stop trying. Unfortunately, I'm not sure if I can. Well, instead of finishing this post, then, here's a poem I wrote yesterday, a poem that lay nebulously within my mind for about a week, ever since graduation. An action I truly performed is its subject . . . or actions. Nevertheless, I should get on with it, oughtn't I?

AN INTERVIEW
I compromised, in all the nagging,
(License, job, responsibility,
And that aching need to leave)
Got me a job, went to the DMV
Planned an interview with life.
What a rotten way to waste the sun
Summer's freedom spent in chains.
Compromise - such an evil thing
For a moment's peace of mind.
I just wanted to get away from here
I looked up tickets, ways to go
It was pricey, though, no matter what I did
Life abroad seemed a distant dream.
Responsibility is too harsh a fate
For dreamers just like me.
But without a job, how am I to pay
For the freedom to be free?

Anyway, I don't remember the day, it may have only been a couple of days ago, but I got online, determinedly, and looked up ways I might get out of this country (at least for the summer). I looked up internships, study abroad opportunities, ticket prices, trip prices, ways to get a passport, where to go, what would be best, how I might get into the Peace Corps (and where I might go). Who I might stay with, what countries looked most appealing, or were cheaper, to get to and stay at for a while. Some of the time, I was too young to even think about doing what I wanted to. It went on and on, for over an hour, two maybe. I looked up everything I could think of, and even just random search words. I think I even looked at the navy, at joining the military and getting shipped off to boot camp. What I could do there, how I might escape this disgusting situation I've created for myself. I couldn't see anything feasible at such short notice. I didn't have the money, I didn't have a passport, I didn't have the goddamn time. Everything is too far away, and too impossible to bring about for a person in my situation. I don't have any money, I'm too young, I'm too . . . female, I suppose you could say. It isn't safe for me to just set off cross country with less than a hundred dollars in my pocket, and no destination in mind. It just isn't feasible. I don't have connections, I don't know anyone, I can't do it. It makes me feel helpless, and makes me a little angry at myself, a useless sort of anger, that frustrated, can't do anything about, futile kind of anger.

So, instead, I'm stuck here. I'm stuck in this life, and this world, and this place. And I can't get out of it. At least, not responsibly. Ugh. I hate that, I hate that word and every single thing that it implies. It's rotten and ugly and disgusting and kills people's ambition countless times every day. Am I simply complaining? I don't know anymore. I don't know. I never did. I pretended, but I honestly don't. I wonder if I ever will?

And then I wonder, will I ever have the chance to meet the guy I've been pining for since before I even knew I wasn't complete without him? Will I meet someone in college that will make me wonder how I ever functioned without him? Will life provide the opportunity? Or will I walk around, still wondering, still confused, still looking for that perfect hug, that perfect lunch date, the right sort of concern and attention and conversation coupled with a face (vain and shallow as that sounds, life is that way) I can live with? Will I have to wonder forever?

Again, unanswerable. Only the future will know, and no one can interpret it's movements. Ambiguous and full of nothing but questions, opportunity, and even, well, hope. I'll have to wait for any of my questions to be answered. I can't learn without time, experience, and whatever else goes in the mixture.

In the meantime, I have to figure if I will go out with M. again, if I even want to. I have to see if maybe he needs time to familiarize. I have to see if time will make him something I might have patience with and (awful enough as it is) respect for. Time enough, and we'll see if I ever want to give him a chance. There is also the issue of U. But, again, I'm chin deep in shit, and still lying through my teeth, if I think I won't fuck that up too. Oh well.

So, I guess I'm done for the night. I think. (scoffs) Yes, I think. I fucking think too much, and will continue to think, right on into the whole phase of my "not thinking" while I try to sleep, while I try to function well enough to get on with things as they stand. (rolls eyes) And I will continue thinking right on until I go and make another impulsive, unwise move that serves for, and pretends to be, thinking.

This is seriously way too long of a post. I think that it probably contains about a month's thinking. Or is that just a week? I get confused so often . . . (winks) It also probably took you forever to read, or will, if you never read it, but skipped forward, which I wouldn't blame you for. (deep, long sigh) I'm amazed that my hands don't hurt. My wrist isn't aching at all. My knee hurts though. Well. Yeah.

If there is anything I haven't covered, or finished, or resolved the story of, I apologize. But, I'm too tired and annoyed with my excess rambling to want to read back over this whole post and fix anything. Verbose. Ha. Excessive.

Oh, one last thing, my father wrote to me, right? Two months to respond to my letter. I still haven't responded to his. I don't know how. I keep saying that I've completely forgot about it, but what if I'm avoiding it? I don't know how to deal with him. Conflicted. Yeah. Me? All the time.

So - Peace. Love. Contentment. Understanding.

Or rather: LIFE - and everything I seek. (rueful smile)

Ta. . . . oh, and rest your eyes. I know I need to. It's that pointy, needle-like feeling that is stabbing at my temple again. The one I try to duck and dodge from for no reason other than instinct. Obviously, you can't move away from something that is inside of you. I seem to forget that time and again. (deep sigh) Okay. Good night. And thank you, for whatever you may have thought. If I could have heard it at the time that you thought it, I'm sure it would have helped in some way. If I could simply work up the effort to tell my best friend these things, perhaps at the end of it, I might have a hug, and not a headache.

But, all I have is the stabbing, the wondering, the ceaseless questions, and another night alone ahead of me. No pity. Maybe sympathy.

Reality has never been my favorite story.

Spin Control?

I feel like I'm losing control of my own life.

Graduation went great. I said my speech without a hitch, except for the very end (last 10 seconds or so), when I got a little hard to hear. I didn't trip, I didn't do anything stupid. But, all of my family left before the end of graduation, so I didn't get to see anyone except for my mom and sister, who were my ride home as it was.

M. and I, well, everything is relatively in the open, I guess. He likes me, I like him, but I'm afraid in this 'relationship' I'll be the only one who makes the first move. I haven't talked to him since the night of graduation. Oh well. Everyone in my family assumes he's my boyfriend, but I'm not entirely sure yet. I don't know.

The party the school held for graduation night was fun. I won some money, played some games, saw a hypnotism (which was hilarious). But I played some weird game and it game me a little whiplash. Thankfully, it isn't too serious a form of it, I didn't go to the doctor for it, and I'm hoping my neck will feel better soon enough (and not take six months to heal, like my sister's did).

I got sick on the night of my last day of school, last friday. So, I almost lost my voice for graduation. Thankfully, it came back in time. But, the next day, it was pretty much gone. I'm hoping I'll get over this cold soon. It's been almost a week, after all.

But, the main topic of concern for this post, is the fact that with my stepdad here, I'm not getting any exercise whatsoever. And I mean none. Not to mention, we keep eating out, and eating ice cream, and none of it is good for me. I've probably gained weight this week. It really pisses me off. Nobody in my family understands that I need to lose weight, and I can't if I don't eat healthy. Greasy pizza, ice cream, candy bars, steak, onion rings, bacon, etc. Not fucking good for me. I hate it.

My stepdad did fix my computer for me, though. So, now I have two computers. My big one, and my little one.

I'm supposed to do a bunch of stuff for college today. I hate it. I wish I could forget about it all. My mother never talked to me about this stuff, she never taught me this stuff. This is the first time I have ever seen this shit before. I don't feel like I'm getting any help, I simply feel like they're telling me to do this, and that's it. Do it. Don't learn, don't know, just do. It fucking pisses me off.

I feel like I haven't gotten a break since the last day of school. I've been sick, I'm tired, I'm sore, and I haven't gotten any rest whatsoever. It's aggravating. It's frustrating. I feel lost, and nothing more. I don't feel like I can do this, I don't feel confident, I don't feel competent. I feel like a child.

And M. is pissing me off because he isn't doing anything. And U. is trying to hover over my shoulder throughout this all. He keeps texting me in the morning, and texting me at night, and I'm getting annoyed with it. And M. isn't talking to me. Oh, he's happy, on Facebook this is simply "complicated," and in person, NO FUCKING CONVERSATION. No feedback. Nothing. I mean, I can understand if he's shy, if he doesn't know what to do. But this is getting ridiculous. No, correction, this is ridiculous. He doesn't talk to me about what's going on. I can't have a relationship, if it isn't even defined in the first place. We aren't officially dating, and I don't even know if we ever will be.

I just want to give up. I really do. I got through graduation. I gave my speech. I got my diploma. I did everything I was expected to do. Now can I give up? Can I just stop? It's obvious that I'm not ready. It's obvious I don't know what to do, and that I probably never will. I'm not ready. I'm not. I'm petrified, and I'm angry. I'm sick and I'm tired.

I want to forget about college, I can't even see it happening. I want to forget about this pseudo-relationship, it isn't likely to go anywhere. I want to stay at home, and write. I want to forget it all.

Oh, and did I mention? On the last day of May, I got a letter from my father. That would be, what, two months that it took him to respond to my letter? Wow, I feel special.

And if the only thing life is going to do is shove things at me and expect me to untangle them, then I don't want to try. I would rather be a failure, then collapse under the strain, under the weight of everything I've never learned. I've been here before, I didn't like it. Where's my vacation? Where's my new beginning? I just feel like I'm being tossed in a tidal wave.

This isn't working out. It really isn't, anymore.

Where to start?

Oh boy, where oh where do I begin to tell you all that has happened these past few days?

I suppose I could start at the very beginning, and hope I don't forget anything, or leave important details out. So, prior warning, this post will be long, make sure you have 1) enough interest to sustain you, 2) enough time to sit and read forever, and 3) a frown, a smile, and advice at the ready.

Okay, by days, this is what happened.

Wednesday:
Day of the Senior Kisses, M. came to my locker between 3rd and 4th, and all he said was "Thank you for the kisses." It seemed like he wasn't affected at all by it, nothing really changed. That was also the day we (all of us in Latin) exchanged senior pictures. I felt suitably discluded when I had to wonder what it was that he wrote on B's card. And all that other suspicious/jealous feelings, you know.

Thursday:
Still nothing changed. Came to my locker as usual, but we walked (what felt like) rather quickly to our group of friends at their locker. Thus, in one-on-one time, there was hardly anything. That was also the day I had planned to tell him what I was thinking. I had a nice little speech all organized in my thoughts, that would lay it all out - that I liked him, I thought he liked me, but I wasn't sure, yadda yadda yadda, we'd never see each other after high school if nothing happened, etc etc. But, no opportunities presented themselves. In Latin, it seemed like he was ignoring me. I think I probably felt hurt, but masking that was irritation. We took a test, and he kept helping B. I think that just really irked me, that whole resentful feelings, wounded animal, etc. When I was almost done with my test he asked me "Why are you mad?" I told him that I, well, couldn't tell him. He asked me "Why? Is it because you're mad at me?" I don't remember how I answered, probably "No." but nevertheless, he stayed quiet for the remainder of class. After class, however, when we got out into the hall, he goes "You know you can tell me. Doctor M. is here to listen." When I told him "I don't know. I don't even think I can put it to words. I don't even know myself. et cetera." I don't really know exactly what I said, but essentially, that I couldn't even describe it in my head, so I had no idea how to begin to tell him. He said okay, but to message him on Facebook if I figured it out. Then we said goodbye.

At about 5 o'clock that night, I wrote up what I had wanted to say to him, my little speech, and I emailed it to him (on facebook, of course). I heard no response from him that night, and I assumed that he either 1) never read it, 2) never got it, or 3) didn't like me back, or even 4) would tell me what he wanted to at school the next day.

But, FRIDAY:
He did nothing. I never saw him between 2nd and 3rd period, but he came to my locker between 3rd and 4th. Still, though, he didn't do anything. He didn't act like anything was different. It was our last day of school ever. But still, he didn't do anything. He had a different lunch period than me, but he also was a teacher aid during my lunch. When he persuaded his teacher to let him have second lunch as well, he showed up at my locker. We had lunch with everyone else, sat next to each other on the front lawn, etc. Come Latin, we sat there, it was boring, he asked for a hug from another girl in our class. It certainly hurt when he didn't ask for one from me. To me, it felt like a blatant message, a sort of "I don't like you. Do you see? If I did, I would have asked for one from you, too." It was also confusing, because it seemed like he liked me earlier. And honestly, it ruined the rest of my day. I'll be frank about that.

After school, I was standing by my friend's lockers. Again, feeling left out. Not feeling the whole "YAY! This is my last day of school, I'm so excited, I'm going to miss you, blah blah blah." No, I just felt disconnected. U. (from all those posts before, you don't remember him, I'm sure), well, I don't know if I like him really too much, he isn't my type, he likes to do the whole show-off, macho guy thing. But he's a good guy, I think. Well, he asked for a hug. THe only hug I got the entire day. Still, in the end, I didn't want to mooch a ride off of someone, so I decided to walk home instead. 3.5 miles. It was hot. Like, 90 degrees hot. But I got to think. Then, when I got home, I drank a lot of water, and lay down on my bed, listening to some music, almost falling asleep. Mom came home, made some dinner, and I was sitting on the couch when U. called and asked if I wanted to go have dinner with a him and bunch of others.

This is where the story is going to become confusing, for me (mostly), as well as you, since you don't know the background on U.

So, I'm going to take a break, and write it in another post.

Whatever.

Oh just forget it all.

Tomorrow's my last day of school.

Nothing has changed.

Everything is different.

I'll write something later when I feel like writing at all.

Some comic relief,

because it seems like we all need it.

This is a hilarious twist to a modern classic. :D

My dreams - not so sweet.

I had nightmares last night. And I mean, scary dreams. The first one actually woke me up and freaked me out until I realized it was just my cat's leg that was touching my arm, and not some stranger in my bed. You can sort of imagine what that dream was about, then.

I'm so tired, though. So very tired.

But I have to get ready for school.

So, I'll talk to ya later, dear reader.

Don't run away.

Oh,

I forgot to mention.

First of all, apparently my vacation with my sister is delayed to an indeterminate time because my mother has demanded that my sister move out by month's end.

What's going to happen to my cat when my mother decides to forget she ever had kids? When she finally throws everything away, and gives everything up, and leaves?

Also, I started working on my book again. Three days, and I will have unlimited time to do so.

I really just want to crwal into bed and close my eyes and feign comfort. Though I hate self-pity, I really do feel pathetic right now.

Oh what a night for complaints. Sleep well and sweet dreams, whomever and wherever you are.

I thought.

I feel rather depressed tonight.

Just thought I'd let you know.

Not enough time in the day to figure things out. I think I might stay up later tonight to do something along those lines. Maybe even all night.

I feel like I lost six hours, though, six crucial hours. And I really don't want to do any of the things I have planned after school for the next two days. It doesn't feel like they're in the same reality as the one I find myself floating in.

The worst part is, I can imagine M.'s arm around me.

Fuck. What have I done to myself?

Oh, and here is a poem. Sorry I'm so depressing today, and this week. I really did feel great this morning, now I just want to cry - and not just because of him, more because of me, and how I can't seem to control some of my more unthinking impulses.

Before you try and attribute today's feelings to the words you're about to read, I wrote this a few days ago. Anyway, read on.

I (Lost) You

I lost the meaning of ‘you’
In the desert of my mind
Parched from love and time
Aged and wearied by cliché.

I spent a sleepless night
To contemplate the past
And found again that I, still,
Do not know that much.

Everything about you fades
Except for points of light
Your eyes stay still as vibrant
But you do not shine with life.

Guilty for the pretense
Of hating before knowing
Of trying to ignore, and mostly
Pushing you away . . .

My heart will not forget it
Though my image of you fades
Guilt and regret grow with the love –
The ending stays the same.

O.O

I should have written a post this morning. It would have been about ten times peppier. Lol.

I was in such a great mood when I woke up this morning. I couldn't stop grinning ear-to-ear, maybe a couple of jumps, squeals, laughter, etc. Why? Not sure, really, not sure at all.

But I had such fabulous energy when I woke up. And even though I didn't get to bed until a little after midnight, I was so awake. I love that feeling.

I still have my finals this week, and that means I have to study. Hmph. Oh well. It's worth it.

According to my English teacher, they hand out most of the Senior "Kisses" during first period. You know what? When she said that? My eyes grew - wide. Very. I'm absolutely terrified, and having some major doubts about whether or not he still likes me. I want to go for the coward's way out and just tell myself that he likes B. now, just like some other girl, who I know and loathe, told me he does. But I know I don't believe her, I absolutely can't. It goes against my principles. I don't account feelings to one person based on what another person (who doesn't know them) thinks. Gossip is degrading, especially if you listen.

I won't bow down to low self-esteem. I battled that crap years ago, I won't succumb to it now.

And besides, you only get two choices in life. You can either jump into things headlong or skulk away silently. I refuse to run, I refuse to hide, I need to create who I'll be when I'm done with high school - and a coward isn't high on my list of identities. Anyway.

I got his senior photo today, and he wrote a note on the back (because everybody does that). He essentially said, "You are so amazingly talented and I wish you all the luck and happiness you can achieve!" And then signed it "Love, M."

I don't want to be one of those girls who analyze every word, applying meaning that isn't there. So, I won't. But, if he didn't like me, would he have written 'love'?

Ah hell, I don't know. I won't think about it. In fact, I'm going to do something else instead.

I'm not going to think about how he didn't write 'stay in touch' or any nonsense like that. I'm not going to wonder if he got me a Senior "Kiss" or anything else.

I'm going to read/write some poems, read a book, study my math a little, drink some water, listen to my music, and sleep. Then, I'll get up in the morning, and figure things out as I go.

That's the way life ought to go.

If you overanalyze, then you're bound for nothing but endless thinking and your own private hell.

I'll keep you updated, though, on how things do go, if they go. If not, you'll hear, no doubt. :D

Ta!

Is this weird?

Everything I get from my stepdad smells just likes his cologne. My computer is no exception, or my computer bag. And you know what? It smells great.

I love it when I pick up the computer to do something, and set it back down, and I can smell it. I think when I went on vacation with him once that he said he accidentally spilled a bottle once, and now everything just seems to smell like it. Which is awesome. His cologne doesn't smell awful, it smells pretty damn wonderful. I never seem to smell it on him, though, which is probably a good thing. :D

But you know what they say - the cologne makes the man.

I had this discussion in Latin class about a week ago with B. And she agrees with me: If a guy is wearing just the right cologne, it will honestly make him better looking. It's intoxicating, if he's wearing that one scent that makes your eyes cloud over. I guess it's the same with guys and perfume? I wouldn't know, but I assume so.

M. said his favorite scent on a girl is Lilac. I don't even know what that smells like, which is frustrating. But that's how it goes.

I remember last year, a senior in my latin class had the very best cologne I've ever smelled on a guy. I wish I had asked him what he used. (grins) That would have been an odd conversation.

But anyway, just thought I'd write that. Because I'm sitting here at my computer, browsing through random sites, and I catch a whiff of his cologne and I can't help but wonder, what does M. smell like? I've never gotten close enough to know. In fact, I don't even know if he wears any at all.

It'll probably be a while before I find that out, though. (sighs) Damn. ;D

Which reminds (and I don't know how that did), I was running on the treadmill yesterday, and since I haven't got a MP3 anymore, I was using my CD Player. It's too big to carry the entire time I'm running, so I set it next to the treadmill. Unfortunately, that increases the chances of me knocking it over when my hands catch the cord. Can you guess what happened, then? I knocked it off the shelf about four times yesterday, before I finally (accidentally) broke the lid off. So frustrating, but laughable. I'm sure my upstairs neighbors heard my expletives, even over the sound of the treadmill. It still works, though, if I don't want to move it around while I'm using it. Ootherwise the top - where the hinges are at - will come off-ish. The wires keep it on, thank god.

So, so annoying. I honestly need to get another MP3. I hate CD players, I really do. And I've had this one for about six years, ever since my brother pawned my old one.

Anyway, this post is long enough, I think. I need to do some laundry, write an essay, take a shower, and get over my sugar cravings. :D Mom's leaving in a few minutes to go spend more of her life with her 'boyfriend'. I could probably rant for an entire post about how ridiculous my mother is being/is, but I don't feel like ruining my mood at the moment. But, god, how I love to have the house to myself, even if it's because she leaves me all the time. It's great to be so high up on someone's list of priorities. (And yes, that absolutely was sarcasm.)

Ta, then.

As I wake up: . . .

(frustrated sigh)

What if I don't actually like him?

Damnit. I feel like a yo-yo.

It's a pain in the ass, being suspended in limbo like this.

I don't want to wait, I'm tired of being unsure.

In retrospect.

Maybe I wasn't ready yet. Maybe I wasn't over Jeremy yet, it had only been a month or two since he'd left. Maybe I was still too young, still too naive, still too damaged, too selfish, too unclear and unseeing. I didn't know myself very well back then, nor did I know much of what I was doing, or what my actions meant to you. I was rather blind back then. Or maybe it wasn't meant to be just yet. Perhaps we were meant to wait a little while, wait for a new kind of understanding.

Or maybe, maybe I was just scared. Scared to let someone in, scared to get close to anyone, scared to be left behind or ignored or taken for granted. Scared that you might leave like Jeremy left. Scared that I wasn't really worth all that much, scared to be proven right. Absolutely terrified and unwilling to admit it. Perhaps that was why I never took the chance to try.

Too selfish to understand when I had something good. I've had to grow up quite a bit since then, I feel eight years older than I ought to be. But then, you needed to grow up as well, didn't you? You've matured since then. I can see that. You've grown up, and it looks good on you. I can admit that now, I suppose.

You bring a smile to my face even while I'm still wondering whether there will ever be anything between us. Even when I'm sad as hell at the prospect of never seeing you again, you still make me a little bit happier. When I'm tired and wallowing in self-pity, you make me want to be happy, just to see that glint in your eyes. And you try to cheer me up, do little things to make me smile. I can see that. I just worry that it's not only me you think about. I worry that I'm not the one.

I find myself wondering if I will still know you in ten years. If I will remember you, or if we will still be friends, or even something more. I just read a book about the afterlife, I wonder about my own, if I even believe in that sort of thing. Will I get a flashback of my entire life and see you when we were 'young,' and wonder what happened to you, if you're happy wherever you ended up in life, if you still thought about me? Will I ever publish a book and have that knowledge, deep within my heart, that somewhere, you might see it, recognize my name, and smile to remember that silly young girl you once knew.

Tears come to my eyes now, I suppose that's only fitting. This is starting to feel more like a farewell letter, now, which wasn't what I intended. I only hope it's a beginning, not an end. A beginning. I hope you're there to give me inspiration for my stories, and be the only reason I ever write a poem about love. I hope you're the first to read my book, and the first to hold me together when I feel like I'm crumbling and falling apart. I hope you're there. I hope that I'm not wishing, that I'm not grasping at nothing, and imagining just another story. I hope you're not just someone I'll remember in the years to come.

I want to travel to Ireland and Australia with you, and everywhere else combined. I want you by my side when I marvel at the crumbling ruins of ancient castles, enduring and powerful even when broken. I want you there, I want you here. I don't want to forget, or give up.

Or do I wish for too much?
_____

It's not much longer now - he gets the note in 5 days (not what I've written above). He's been coming to my locker between classes, we talk. He's got the best eyes - they're hazel, but I usually only see them when they're green. I always wanted to fall for a guy with green eyes. He gets his hair cut this weekend. I wonder how he will look.

I've been losing weight these past couple months. I wonder if he's noticed. I'm proud of myself, though. I'm very proud.

And if next week is the last week I'll ever see him for the rest of my life, I know I'll cry.

Shit.

I've given up trying to understand.

He looked good today. I wonder if he likes me. I like to think he does, but I can never be sure - he also seems to be keeping his distance. He has this funny misconception, sad if you look at it in the proper light, but he seems to think that when we 'dated' before, it just didn't work out. He doesn't know that I never tried, because at the time, I didn't want to. I have a new understanding, and a new appreciation, of him.

I'm afraid it might be too late, though.

At my school, they sell "Kisses" for Seniors, which is just a little bag of Hershey's kisses that you buy to send to a senior at school. You get to attach a note to the bag. And, well, I took a chance and got him one. They hand them out on the third to last day of school. I am absolutely terrified that he will get it in the class period that we have together, I'll probably faint from embarrassment and anxiety and insecurity, melt into a puddle of terror and blushes. It terrifies me, as well, what he'll do if he gets it in another class instead, what his reaction will be, if he will get my 'hint'. Or if he'll even get it. Or if he'll show his friend B. (who I don't really like too incredibly much). I am absolutely terrified, but I did it. Nothing will ever happen if I'm not willing to take a chance.

Isn't there a quote about that? "In love, if you risk nothing, you risk everything." Yes, that's it. And it's true, I know this. I'll never know if anything could happen between us if I don't take that chance, if I don't risk my pride or dignity or whatever the hell will be permanently crushed if he doesn't actually like me anymore, doesn't understand my note, or simply doesn't do anything at all.

But what if he does do something?

I wish he would. Then we'd have the summer, or if nothing else, a few days. I wish he would hug me. I can imagine he gives phenomenal hugs, and I've always been a softie for any guy who can hug me just right. I link that feeling with security, comfort, warmth, safety, and even love, most of all love. Probably because of my father, but I don't know.

He'll get the note in six days.

"I can’t believe the years have gone by so fast! It’s too incredible to believe. A new beginning – that’s the part I can’t wait for. A chance to start all over again in college – theoretically, at least. Lol.
I wish things had turned out different with us.
Keep in touch! "

Now that I read it over again, though, I almost find it a pathetic little note. He couldn't get anything out of that. Could he?

Damn. I think too much. I've always told that to myself time and again, but I suppose that is the curse of being a girl. I don't really know if guys think like this. I haven't read many blogs by them. They might worry as much, but I doubt they write as much.

Oh well.

I AM . . .

Consumed by confusion. I guess I could call it that.

This week, though, I've felt rather empty, rather distanced from my emotions. I know I should be feeling something, but I just feel futile. I feel deflated. I feel like I'm distancing myself, and when I actually feel any emotion it seems like it's either anger or frustration, and even - dare I say it? - useless or pointless jealousy. I feel disillusioned, but I don't know if I have that right.

I keep thinking that I should do something, but when I do, I feel like I'm doing everything wrong. I feel like I'm offending people, or pushing them away, or making them uncomfortable, or something. I want to cry, but I don't want to - because that is showing a weakness I don't want at the moment. I feel like if I cry, I'm just trying to get attention, or manipulate others to do what I want them to, to instigate one specific other to do something I desperately want him to.

Most of all, in this lack of emotions (despite my use of the word 'feel' multiple times already), encompassing all of this confusion is the fact, the idea, that I just might be coming to like M. more than I ever thought I would. I am consumed by confusion for the very fact that I feel distanced from myself because I like M. when I thought I never would, when I thought he would always annoy me, when I've always (or used to on purpose, though now it's only instinctive to keep everyone away) done everything in my "passive" power to push him away. I realize today, and I have realized this, in this month especially, that I've been starting to like him since before last summer. It's crazy to believe, indefinitely incomprehensible. Now, though, I want him close, much closer than before. Unfortunately, I feel like that is impossible, and I'm coming to believe that it will never happen. Problem is, I don't know if I care whether or not he still likes me, or ever truly did. I don't know if I want him to, and I'm afraid that if he still does, I'll push him away again.

He said something today in class, in a conversation we (along with someone else, who I'm almost afraid he actually likes instead of me, childish as that seems) had. He said, "I don't hold grudges, but I remember. I'll forgive them, but I'll always know what they did, I never forget."

That terrifies me more than anything else.

Have I done anything to him that he will never forget?

I hope not, I desperately hope not.

"Penny For Your Thoughts."

I don't know how else to explain it, but,
I feel strong, and
I feel breakable.
I just wish his hand would hold mine,
And that he would tell me,
"Everything will be okay."
But -
I don't know what's wrong
To fix.
So how could he?
But I wish he would.
I wish he did.

Tree

I am typing from my new computer. It is exhilarating, to say the least. I cannot stop grinning to look at it. I am terrified as hell it will eventually get a virus on it, but for the moment, I couldn't be happier.

I have three weeks left of school, and the time is seeming to stretch on forever, an endless span of unendurable length. At the end of it, I am going to give a speech in front of my entire class, along with six other of the valedictorians at my school. It's ridiculous how many there are at my school, ten in total, including me. Only one guy, out of all of that. But honestly. The valedictorian ought to be the very top student out of the entire class. If it were like that at my school, as it ought to be, I wouldn't be one. But I'm okay with that. Just being here is an accomplishment in and of itself for me. Especially when I think on all of those days I was willing to simply give it all up and do nothing at all anymore. I'm shocked when I see where I am today. I'm nearly done. I've almost made it. It's unreal.

On another note, I'm rereading the Wheel of Time series. I'm impatient to get through all twelve books, and I cannot wait until the thirteenth comes out in November or later. It's too long to wait. I wish I could read faster, but I usually read this series during the summer rather than the school year, so it is taking twice as long to get through every book. In fact, I'm only on the second one right now. It took two weeks to read the first one, though, admittedly, it is about eight or nine hundred pages long. Nevertheless, I have read it in about five days before. I wish I could this time. Still, I have to remember that I'm going to make myself reread the entire series again when the last book finally comes out. I could roll my eyes at this moment at how ridiculous it seems for me to insist on rereading the series every time a new book comes out. As it is, I've read the series about three times before. This would be my fourth. And it is a very good series, so it truly isn't a hardship, except for the fact that I seem to read no other books for the two months it takes to read the twelve, soon to be thirteen, books. Oh well. Lol. That is life, and what I make of it, no less.

I'm rather excited for the end of June, too. A week after my eighteenth birthday, my sister and I are going to go Oregon to spend a week at the beach. It should be absolutely wonderful. From the twenty-fourth to the first of July, spent doing nothing but watching the sunsets and sunrises, and feeding on the anonymity of being somewhere new, somewhere that no one knows you. *sighs* It sounds perfect - I simply cannot wait.

So my new laptop. I just have to tell you, it's so tiny. Lol. It's the size of a spiral notebook, but about one inch shorter as far as how wide the keyboard goes. The keys are smaller, and closer together, but I don't seem to have any trouble typing on them, so all's well that ends well. It helps that I have such small hands, I imagine. And with it, I can use my camera again. I'm so thrilled about that, you cannot even fathom. Lol.

So, I'm going to upload the pictures I took of the tree outside my house. I've tried to get it on any number of different days, displaying the seasons. It's pretty cool, I think.

The first two are towards the end of March, on the 25 and 26. The first one was a nice day, the next day, not so much. Though, of course, both have snow on the ground.

This next is just over a week into April. I'll tell you what, the snow did not seem to want to leave.

And this last one was taken a couple of days into May. Finally green, and rainy to boot. Will we never get sun here? . . . I doubt it. Lol.

Anyway, that's all I have for tonight. I rather enjoyed looking at the pictures of my wonderful tree. . . well, my neighbor's tree, in any case. Lol. I should go, though. Much to do to get ready for bed, unfortunately, though I feel as if I might shatter instead.

Typing Mishaps with Frozen Digits (ie. unnecessary rambling).

Okay, so I'm cold. And I mean, really really really cold. I'm wearing gloves right now. Thankfully I can actually type with them on. Otherwise, I wouldn't be writing this post, because it isn't nearly as important as the temperature of my fingers. :)

I'm also wearing slippers that I haven't worn in a year, but that's beside the point.

Today is my Friday. It's cold, it keeps wanting to rain and snow even though it's supposed to be spring, but at least I don't have school tomorrow. That has to count for something right? Lol. The weather is supposed to "pick up" this next week though. Whew. Not that the cold isn't nice, I've just been having a harder time than usual keeping my hands warm, along with the rest of me. Let me tell you what - brrr. . . . .

The sky was beautiful today, though. It was completely covered with soft, steel-gray clouds, with the rarest break in them to reveal this perfect, picturesque, lazy summer day, bluest of blue sky beneath (yes, too many words, lol). I sat outside for lunch and got drizzled on as the sky couldn't decide whether to rain or not (is it just me who finds that an awkward thing to read?). But it was so incredibly nice. I almost think the gray skies make me happier than a hot, sunny day. But perhaps that's only my imagination. Lol.

I want to put a poem up here, but I cannot decide which one. None of them seem good enough when I look to them, though I know at some point there was something in them that I liked. I guess that works for anyone who writes, huh? Anyway. If I ever choose, I'll stick it (or them) up in a separate post. Other than that, I suppose I have nothing to say, really. That's a little sad. Maybe I should try and dredge up something for entertainment value.

Hmm . . . .

Well, it took me thirty minutes to make my bed tuesday night. . . . Wow. I must either have a really big bed, or be really slow. Then again, my bed is surrounded on all but one side by a desk, dresser, and walls. I have to push and pull the damn mattress back and forth just to get the sheets on. Let me tell you what, it is an exercise routine all its own. And my sister wonders why I don't change my sheets as often as she does (as in, every week or two) . . . . Hey, I take a shower in the mornings. . . . . Hm. Irrelevant.

I'm gonna go now. Probably the best idea. Lol.

. . . . Oh yeah! Yesterday, I was walking down the hallway after school with one of my friends, and I dropped my water bottle (well, sort of flung it accidentally, really) and I made her jump about three inches - sideways. Her feet almost looked like a dog's feet when it's paddling over water (that it isn't in). It occurs to me that that probably doesn't make sense. Lol. Suffice it to say: Priceless.

Ta! ;)

(ps. I'm pretty sure the cold has affected my ability to write at my normal level, or basically, the cold has affected my ability to write coherently . . . . at all. It's unfortunate, but you know, it's an ego boost for you, whomever you are. Lol. I can't describe crap today, and I don't want to try. Let's see, almost nine o'clock. Should I, or shouldn't I . . . . . . ?)

Lol. Until next time.

Hm.

M. is going to be gone all this week. College visit.

I wonder what Latin will be like without him? I was starting to get used to him dropping by my locker before third period. And now he isn't there. I wonder what I'll do when he gets back?

Ha. No. I know what I'll do: nothing.

I wonder if I miss him? Hm. Probably not. I just like the attention. Isn't that it? Yeah, I suppose so. But he did have a tendency to brighten my mood marginally at times. Silly me.

I can't believe there's only a month left. I find it hard to comprehend. But then, it's just another aspect of life that passes you by, and you only wonder afterwards if you miss it. I think I see the connection. Psht.

M. is just another part of "what could have been . . ." and "where did it all go?"

I'm going to go get ready now.

What if?

As I tried to fall asleep last night, I had a waking-dream, a lingering question.

What if I had decided to live with my father instead of my mom? What if I had?

Would I be better off, in every way? I almost think I would have. I almost wish I would have.

But then, I never would have met all of the people that I did.

Of course, then I have to ask myself, what if the people I would have met, if I'd stayed in Texas, what if they would've been better? What if, in staying down there, I had a hundred less obstacles to get around just to get where I want to go?

I almost think, I almost believe, that that might be true. But then I remember that my father hasn't spoken to me in five years. And then, then I remember that he lied to me about so many things, most importantly, that he loved me. Yeah, I almost believe he might've been the better parent to stay with, until I remember that. And then, I wonder, if either of my parents ever loved me at all, or if I was just their way of getting back at the other. And then, then I wonder what it is I'm supposed to do now.

But I can imagine where I would've have gone, each day, what things I might have done. I think I would have grown in more ways than I have living here. If I had stayed down there, I'm certain I would be more of an adult than I am now. I would be outside more, I would have a job, I'd be more secure in myself, I think. I don't believe my father would have abandoned me to his selfish impulses the way my mother has, I don't believe he would have set me out to do all of this on my own. I don't believe I will ever get any of that back. My mother pushes people away because she prefers to do things on her own, and then she complains about being alone. She talks about how she has sacrificed all of her life to take care of us, when she could have easily shared and had help from another. I think she would rather I didn't have a father, because she is afraid that he would be better than she ever was. I think she's afraid that I would like him. But she did her best to turn me against him, didn't she? And now, now I haven't got either of them. I just, I wish I didn't have to be here.

Another down.

Another computer down, how many more to go?

Yes, thanks to my mother, I've now lost another computer to a damn virus. And this wouldn't bother me so much, except that, she keeps doing this. She keeps talking to random guys on the internet and letting them convince her to download such and such program onto the computer that she absolutely doesn't need. And I'm sick and tired of losing all of my files because of it. I mean, she really pisses me off.

*takes a deep breath*

Thus the reason why I haven't posted on here in a week. Thus the reason why I spent all but four hours on Saturday sleeping, and why I went back to bed a 8 o'clock last night. And I didn't even have my music to drown everything else out with. My MP3 got the virus a while ago, so I can't use it. My radio doesn't like to play about 70 percent of all the CDs I'd like it to. My god, I'm trapped in this house, aren't I? I don't have my computer, and I have no way to get out of here for another four months.

I just, I can't live with people who live like this. My mother, my sister, they just don't get it. And they can't stand to see me do something with my life, they have to continually drag me down. It's exhausting and tiring, and I can't fight this anymore without becoming pissed off. I hate living with them. I can't stand it. I can't surround myself with this kind of selfishness, this oblivious, consuming selfishness. It's too much for me. Stuck in a rut, they try and drag me down with them, over and over again.

*sighs*

I'm going to start a different post. I went to bed incensed last night, I don't feel like starting today in a hopeless mood as well.

Anonymity.

I like not knowing whether or not people read this. I like the idea that I'll never know how many visits anyone ever makes to my blog of idiocy. It's a nice kind of anonymity.

Anyway, just before I leave for school, thought I'd mention, I didn't get to bed until 2. But I found inspiration to write another poem. So, lose-win situation, I suppose.

So, gotta go, then.

Evasion is a sweet pastime.

I can't seem to want to go to sleep right now. It's nearing midnight, and I'm tired, and I'm a little hungry. But all I'm doing is writing. I've decided I don't like posting stuff on my poetry blog for the time being, so I'm just going to post this poem here. I just copied it from my notebook, and edited it a bit, and found I like it more than I thought. So, read on, if you wish.

My Heart's Exposé
I set to writing down my heart
And all the fact surrounding it
With a view to polishing
My shiny, lead-stained fingertips
In the crystal universe encrusted
With the film of Fortune’s kiss.

But a latte in the morning kills my spirit,
And a pinch of salt across the shoulder
(When I drop the lid and spill the can)
Is the only luck I can account for.

Sweet nothingness now holds me
In its stern and pitying grasp.
And all can see that, in my words,
All can tell within my thoughts.

You wrapped my heart in foil – pressed and
Boiled, poker-faced, until it was lobster-red,
Scrapped for the piglets in the yard:
(You glorified the meal) I was
“A wealthy feast for the health of swine.”
Is this what you had tried to say?

Worth nothing more than a rotten feast
Nothing more than slaughter food
Trampled to lumpy, dull red mush
With nothing more to beat for.