ridiculous rytings

Octopus Boy

2010-02-07T11:36:00.000-08:00

I drew this last night. It's an boy with an octopus-head. He's got flowers for someone special. It was just some random design that came to me, so I ran with it. I'm particularly proud of the tentacle wrapped around the single daisy. Yes, he is sucker-less, because I can't draw suckers.

rylee and the machine

2010-01-28T15:46:00.000-08:00

Before I go into why my day was awesome, I would just like to pay a token tribute to the immortal J.D. Salinger. He is one of the true legends of fiction writers and may his work be the subject of much adoration and condemnation for centuries to come.

Anyways, this was a good day. It's been a long time since I've had a really good day. A good day for me is when a string of good things you were hoping for and anticipating happen all in a row. This particular good day involved me getting an 83 on my first biology test of the semester, receiving my financial aid refund money (over $4000!), and finally, learning that my dearest Hermit is coming to see me.

(Yes, I'm giving real people in my life aliases, just like all the sex bloggers out there. Suck it.)

The Hermit is a man who has been in my life for a long time. I met him on my 18th birthday (almost 2 years ago) and although our relationship was hardly picturesque, I've retained being a little bit in love with him for all this time. We recently picked up contact again and over the past 2 or so months have been rebuilding our friendship over Facebook. Now, after a year of not seeing him at all, he's on his way as I type this to come visit me for the weekend.

I'll admit I'm terribly excited. I'm not sure how I'm going to conduct myself since the tables have sort of turned since the last time I saw him. This time around, he's pursuing me, enough to drive 3 hours to see me and try to spend some money on me with what meager wages he has at the moment. I feel like I'm in some position of power this time, especially since he has some "competition" from the DJ, my other current suitor (who hasn't been in my favor over the past week).

It's a multi-layered situation. Amazing. I never actually expect to be in this kind of situation. It's something you fantasize about: the one you've crushed on for much too long finally coming around and showering you with the attention you've been craving.

I have high hopes for this weekend. I plan to eat well and drink and smoke and make love. An ideal way to spend 4 days.

if my heart was a house, you'd be home

2010-01-01T17:39:00.000-08:00

First post of 2010! Fucking A!

So I had quite the burst of emotion a little while ago. After watching two films engorged with estrogen and pussy power, I felt absolutely awesome as a woman. Singing Owl City's "Fireflies" at full volume (quite beautifully, if I can just say that) in the shower made me feel incredible as a silly kid. Looking in the mirror at my fresh, naked body with no makeup, grinning earnestly at my reflection, I felt delicious as a sex kitten. Christening the new decade with a shuddering orgasm while Ben Folds' cover of "Tiny Dancer" played in the background, I suddenly became moved to tears. So many layers of happiness and contentedness just wrapping me up in a warm blanket of comfort...I couldn't hold it in. I was overcome. The simplicity of that private moment was enough to make me cry, smiling the whole time.

I felt no pain in that hazy cloud of teary-eyed post-cum revelation. Nothing but pure happiness with the state of the world. I looked back at 2009, all the bullshit, the real and the fabricated, the mundane and the melodramatic, and all I could feel was complete and total forgiveness. Forgiveness towards those who wronged me, towards every hazardous environment, towards myself. And all I could do was smile at my ceiling through my tears.

"I'm feeling something inside and yet I still can't decide
If I should hide or make a wide open grin
Last week I wanted just to disappear
My life was dust but now it just may be
A Happy New Year, a Happy New Year."
--Rent

clip from Untitled story

2009-12-29T00:28:00.001-08:00

We went to the Chinese restaurant, which I considered to be the best place to bond with another person, exchanging ideas and creating inside jokes over plates piled high with fried rice and skewered chicken. Zoey looked natural with a pair of chopsticks in her hand, clumsily maneuvering them around her plate before finally stabbing an elusive chunk of pork.

She looked up at me as she chewed, her brown eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"So," she said, her mouth still full. "What disgusting secrets can you tell of the mythical emporium of grease known as Jailbirds? I feel like an interview with someone who gets their hands all up in it every day would be a huge asset to the documentary."

I gulped down a mouthful of vegetables.

"Um, well," I coughed. "What are you hoping to find out?"

"Whatever you can divulge, I guess," Zoey replied, running her fingers through her hair. It seemed to be a tic of hers, combing back through her bangs to the back of her head and letting the hair fall back in her face, giving the illusion of fullness for a moment before deflating into limp strings framing her cheeks.

"Well, ah...we don't slaughter homeless people or anything like that," I said, shrugging. She snorted with laughter.

"That's a relief," she muttered, stabbing at another piece of pork.

"I don't do anything too disgusting...we microwave the bacon instead of actually cooking it," I offered. "It's pretty gross."

Zoey wrinkled her nose in mild disgust, but after a moment, shrugged.

"That's not exactly scandalous," she said. She paused, then leaned closer as she said, "Well, what about socially? Do fast food employees generally hang out after their shift, or are you all eager to escape any reminder of your job as soon as you clock out?"

I laughed, scooping some rice into my mouth.

"I guess some of them hang out. I don't, really," I said. "Beer pong isn't my idea of an awesome night. I do go hang out with one girl every once in a while, but that's kind of weird--"

Zoey raised her eyebrows and swallowed.

"And what does 'weird' imply?" she asked. I shifted in my side of the booth, taking a long sip of soda.

"I don't know, it's just sort of complicated," I sighed. My eyes weren't leaving my plate. "Long story of woe, you know. Nothing I'd like to revisit."

"Oh, come on," she nudged. "You wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't want to talk about it. So spill. What's the deal?"

I looked up from my plate and sighed. She was leaning back in the booth, sipping intently on her soda and staring more intently at me, awaiting my sad story. I rolled my eyes and sunk back into my booth as well.

"Her name is Emma...Em," I corrected, slowly. "And, uh...we just hang out from time to time...if we want to."

Zoey blinked.

"Wow, that was quite a maze of drama, Malcolm," she said, sarcasm dripping off her words. "You wanna try again? Maybe add some twists this time?"

I groaned, glaring at her.

"Alright, I'm her booty call, okay? Happy?" I snapped. She smiled, more out of surprise than amusement. "We used to be friends, and I really liked her, and then we had sex, and now she only calls me when she wants to bone. There you go." I slapped my hands together as punctuation.

She barely tried to stifle the laughter in her voice.

"Well, God," she said, leaning forward and plucking a wonton from her plate. "Doesn't sound like too bad of a setup. Yet you appear to be ashamed of it."

I narrowed my eyes. Her injection of less common uses of speech was an obvious attempt to sound superior, and it was annoying me.

"It's just that...I still have feelings for her and I'm just kind of hoping that she'll eventually feel the same way about me," I admitted, surprised I was even saying anything about Em.

"That sounds pretty self-destructive, don't you think?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Like some soap opera crap. Disguising love as sex and hoping they catch on?"

"It's kind of a fucked up situation, I know that," I snipped. She bit into her wonton, crunching away.

"Well..." she said around her food. She took a moment to swallow before continuing. "Isn't that what guys want though? Fucked up situations?"

"What do you mean? Why would anyone want a fucked up situation?"

Zoey shrugged and took another bite of her wonton.

"It's just been my experience that guys will often choose a crazy girl over a normal one," she said. "Like some subconscious masochism."

"I doubt that's true," I muttered, glancing out the window. It was going to rain soon.

"Oh it's true." Zoey's tone was suddenly hard and biting. I looked at her again, now glaring down at her plate. Her voice came out with increasing bitterness: "Do you know how many times I've been dumped or passed over for some clinically insane girl? More than enough to develop the theory that men want psycho bitches."

She looked up at me. Her volume was relatively calm, but anger came sparking out in her voice.

"Imagine spending your whole life figuring out who you are, and find yourself to be a pretty cool, chilled out person with at least somewhat interesting hobbies, only to discover that you have nothing that the opposite sex wants. I guess while I was catching up on cult classics, what I should have been doing was developing an eating disorder and bipolar tendencies. Because that's what men want! They want some screeching, dysfunctional harpy with erratic shifts in mood to just scream at them all the time! They want a swirling shitstorm with a vagina!"

She tossed her half-eaten wonton back onto her plate and slumped back in the booth again.

"As long as she's beautiful and comes whimpering back to them after some batshit episode, they can forgive everything and remain in love with her forever. But I'm not that. I couldn't even pretend to be like that. So I'm more or less fucked."

She was quiet. I sat back, shocked by the suddenness of her anger and how quickly it was over. I could see the aftermath of her rant radiating in the air. It didn't strike me as the ravings of a crazy girl, strangely enough, but more of the fact that I had struck a nerve that hadn't been hit before.

Zoey leaned forward again, took a long drink from her soda, swallowed and said, "Let's go do something else."

i got the shakes that i just can't shook

2009-12-27T23:00:00.000-08:00

I am back full throttle over here! I finally have nice speedy internet that doesn't rely on a wireless signal! No longer will I have to perch on the armrest of my couch and pray for anything I can pick up! I can finally blog comfortably again!

Christmas was glorious, one for the books. My parents and I began the day with present-opening (I received grown-up gifts this year, including some art for my apartment, dishes, and a silicone spatula, all of which made me quite happy) followed by a breakfast of mimosas and monkeybread while watching South Park Christmas. After some calls to family, we got dressed and headed to Macon to eat a light lunch of sushi to hold us over until dinner. We then went across the street to the movie theater to see Sherlock Holmes, which was excellent (and a proper review is coming to Youtube). We headed home and ate an incredible standing rib roast that was beyond words. It was a lovely Christmas indeed.

So something crazy's been happening: some ex-lovers have been trying to come back into my life recently. Isn't it weird that as soon as you decide you don't need a man, all of the men from your past come creeping back to you? No, none of these gentlemen want actual relationships or anything, they simply wish to revisit our sexytimes (and who could blame them? I am an unforgettable goddess!....*ahem*). I have accepted a few offers, but it hasn't been particularly beneficial to me. I've suddenly adopted this mindset that having sex with a guy is a form of surrender, like I'm the loser of some unknown game. I don't know, it's weird. Maybe I just don't feel that I should be near any of these guys. No offense to them, I just don't like going backwards...especially to things that didn't work the first time.

I have to wake up in 7 hours.

I've decided I need to start working on my new wardrobe. Image is primarily based on how you dress, and since I've never had a real genre of fashion sense, I've decided it's time to adopt one. And I choose Trendy Nerd, more commonly known as Hipster. Step one: invest in Vans, thick-rimmed glasses, and V-necks. *drums fingers maniacally*

I'm such a poser. I'm just trying to find myself!

Favorite Text

H: Lady Gaga's pipes remind me of a less gritty Christina Aguilera, which is a huge compliment because i love that dirty bitch.

disgustingly personal

2009-12-06T19:42:00.000-08:00

Ugh, fighting yet another battle with my ladygarden. Unlike most of my generation, I have a tender little place in my heart for pubic hair. Maybe I'm old fashioned and just believe that natural beauty is best, but I've always been partial to keeping my bush around, even when company comes over. And no, there's no double standards here. The gentlemen I allow to see my downstairs area are more than encouraged to have hair on their balls.

Not that I really mind shaving. Sure, you have to arrange yourself into a rather unflattering position to do so, but it's not a big deal. And who doesn't like the feel of freshly-shorn anything? Silky smooth and pre-pubescent! Come and get it!

But it's the following few days afterward that are absolute hell. Constant itch. Pain at the touch. A flaming herpes-esque landscape. Overall not good times.

Small price to pay for the glory that such suffering affords. YOU know what I'm talking about. Oh yeah.

NEW FEATURE!

Favorite Text of the Day: "next time we get together, we're drinking champagne and making penis-shaped edibles. it must be done."

dance party

2009-11-28T17:41:00.000-08:00

***WARNING: This particular entry is what some may call risque. In it, I discuss grinding and blowjobs, the latter in graphic, albeit somewhat poetic, detail. You are warned.***

I'm home alone on a Saturday night enjoying 95.1's weekly Open-House Party, which is basically a nonstop marathon of grind-worthy remixes of any Top 40 song with an already catchy tempo. I'll endure all the Lil Wayne metaphors I don't understand to hear "Bad Romance" and an interview with Gabe Saporta. I'm dedicated. I also get to hear the new Owl City songs. I got to love him for a full year before the rest of the world caught up, once again.

Grinding all the doorjambs in my apartment is the most dancing I've done, maybe ever. And I'm probably not very good at it. But goddamn it, for a few minutes in my own head, in my heels and new black jeans, I'm one sexy bitch.

Lately, I really haven't wanted anything to do with men. I'm going through another one of my stages where I've closed up shop downtown. But on nights like tonight, I'm just overcome with an urge to suck some cock. I'm not shy to say it, and there's no rhyme or reason to it. You can't masturbate yourself out of a blowjob mood.

Sometimes, you just want nothing more than to take that veiny pillar of gristle, hot and pulsing with anticipation, and take it in your mouth, licking and tasting and tightening and teasing, swelling with pleasure as he squirms and groans at your every move, until it releases your salty reward straight into your throat.

That was graphic. I apologize. But can I not paint a picture? And it's funny that in the middle of writing that, "Lollipop" came on the radio. Lil Wayne knows what I wantz.

nom nom nom

2009-11-20T13:28:00.001-08:00

So I'm housesitting for my parents for the weekend, which basically means I'll be taking advantage of all their stuff, i.e., eating their food, stealing their Internetz, and snuggling my kitty against his will in copious amounts.

I'm eating a sloppy joe with a fork, like ya do. It is quite delicious. I was gonna have a Coke with it, but I couldn't get the bottle open so I made a gin and tonic instead. Huh.

Thanksgiving break is upon us! And then 2 weeks of hell and THEN the most wonderful tiiiiiiiiime of the year! It will be an amazing Christmas.

I can't get "Bad Romance" out of my head. In no way is that a bad thing. I love Lady Gaga. I just want to lick her all over, and then pause to cough up whatever diamonds and outlandish headgear I swallowed while doing so, then resume licking her and all her crazy. Ah. Me and my lesbian fantasies.

Back to my Youtube binge.

asses. just...gaping asses.

2009-11-19T19:32:00.000-08:00

I've decided to start this blog back up again. I miss blogging and I need to re-establish an imaginary niche for myself on the internet.

So hello! Here I am once again!

As we all know, New Moon will begin its surely triumphant reign in roughly 2 hours, so of course I'm hiding in my apartment and staying as far away from a movie theater as possible...at least for a few days. It's true, I'm most definitely going to see the movie at some point, preferably in the theater. The plan is to go on an early Tuesday afternoon maybe 2 weeks from now while all the tweens are in school. I will NOT indulge in this lingering obsession whilst surrounded by pixies decked out in Hot Topic garb. Guess what kids? When I was into Twilight, if you wanted a shirt, you had to MAKE one your own goddamn self! With fabric paint! You all can suck my dick!

In a testament to my own geekdom and how wisely I spend my money, I bought An Always Sunny Christmas, which if you're a cool kid, you know as the Christmas special of one of the funniest shows ever created. Yes, it's a standalone 43-minute DVD that cost me $19. Ah, the lengths we'll go to in the pursuits of fandom. Here's a quick review: while Always Sunny rarely fails in being funny in a fucked up way, I feel like the Christmas special possibly delves a little too deeply into the fucked up part. But, we do get F-bombs and Charlie ripping Santa's throat open in front of children. Best. Christmas. Pageant. EVER!

As a quick bloggity sidenote: I applied to Books-A-Million today. I can't take the restaurant anymore. It's exhausting being around that caliber of negative people all the time.

Currently reading: Let the Right One In and Tattoo Machine

let me sleep if we go to hell

2009-08-22T21:23:00.000-07:00

i flip through pictures of myself on Myspace and Facebook and every other outlet of self-indulgence. i see the metamorphosis. there's something that changes in my eyes over time. a year ago, six months ago, three days ago. the virgin, the hopeful, the defeated.

i hate to depress anyone. i can barely handle it myself.

there are songs that remind me of different men in my life. they make my heart bend and creak with the tinny guitars and weeping pianos. they pop up on my iPod and it's like my heart swells and breaks all over again.

i should really just pick myself up and move on. and i am. i really am. but just certain objects and smells and sounds reappear and remind me of the things i've lost over the years. the things i miss.

i want to sleep until everything works out. i want to skip over all the bullshit and get straight to the part where they admit they were wrong and come back to me.

but it's not going to come. i could sleep forever and the day wouldn't come. and i won't see those smiling faces, and i won't see those erect cocks, and i won't hear those words i miss so dearly.

fuck this. i'll become my father and waste away.

penis.

2009-08-21T14:23:00.000-07:00

i've given up. every expectation i've had on everything i thought i could find comfort in has disappeared, and therefore i'm disappearing.

why is it that when you enter the world of relationships and love and sex, the angst is so much worse, so much more agonizing than anything you felt when you couldn't get anyone to fuck you? it belittles me, this pain. it undermines me and confuses me and twists my heart in a million different directions and i'm left in the rubble of it all wondering where the hell my innocence went.

it's like i'm in high school again, only it's a different kind of hurt. it's the hurt of the ashamed, because by now i should know better.

assholes are assholes. they don't act like that because they like you. they are just pure assholes. that's all.

needy boys aren't sweet, they're clingy and have no friends.

any man you connect with, who makes you laugh, who you can have an actual conversation with, will break your heart before you can even offer it to him.

it's men that fascinate and dishearten me. it's men that enchant and destroy me. it's men that make me start drinking at 4:30 pm and cry myself to sleep.

i just give up. i've spent my whole life trying to get their attention, and it's all for shit.

persistent insomnia

2009-08-09T23:33:00.000-07:00

new layout. you've noticed. let's move on.

well the continuing saga of me and Dexter vs. the fleas resumes tomorrow. flea bath and Frontline, with a surprise vacuum cleaner attack, are our only weapons. wish us luck. i'll be happy to not have to listen to Dexter persistently chewing on his inner thighs anymore. GOD that is an irritating noise.

i just finished watching a movie called Love Object, which is possibly how Lars and the Real Girl would have turned out had the writer been of the creepier persuasion. it was a pretty decent flick in terms of being bizarre and interesting. see it if you have the opportunity and an evening to kill.

if the heavens so grant my available technology to cooperate, i'll soon be producing a few "video-grams" directed at my favorite Youtubers in an effort to make more friends. i would like to lay some groundwork for a future gathering should i attend and need people to hang out with.

turns out i can't adopt another kitty at the present time. i probably wasn't going to pull through anyway, but it was nice to think about. i even had my eye on on really beautiful black and white lady named Chloe. oh well. i guess i'll have to settle with my spastic striped demon who will not leave my keyboard alone. hopefully he'll be more tolerable when i get his balls chopped.

and on that note, i shall go and try to sleep. goodnite.

a letter to my only white bra

2009-08-02T15:24:00.000-07:00

hello. we've been seeing more of each other lately now that i work somewhere that requires a white top. tell me, do you enjoy it? are you and my tits getting along? they can be a pain in the ass, so just let me know.

well frankly you are very confusing to me. can i tell you why? well, let's be honest here, you're not the prettiest one in the bunch (but hey, neither am i). i don't say this to hurt your feelings, i'm just saying that you're...well...a bit of a granny bra. if you hooked in the front you'd be a maternity bra. your cups are just massive, the straps are more like suspenders, and the lacey overlay is anything but hot.

despite this, you are possibly the most flattering bra i own. it depends on the shirt, yes, but when combined with the right top your granny cups somehow make my chest look incredible. i don't know what it is, but when i'm wearing you, my rack appears to swell at least a half size larger.

so i guess that this is a thank you letter really. thanks for being an awesome bra. sadly though, i think i might have to move onto others. look, it's nothing personal. but you're getting old and wearing out. i can see the elastic strings popping out of the seams. it's time i retired you. again, you are amazing and mystifying in your talents, but maybe it's time i stopped living a lie. maybe i need a white bra that will reveal my breasts for what they actually are rather than what you enhance them into.

i appreciate everything you've done for me. thanks for sticking around and giving me mind-blowing confidence in white shirts.

everybody has a hungry heart

2009-07-27T21:48:00.000-07:00

i'm happy. really. my life is finally in a place where i'm moving around and i'm comfortable. i have a job, i'm doing well in school, i live in a great apartment, my family situation is awesome, and my pubes have grown back full-throttle. i feel like i have a purpose and i feel vibrant and even beautiful because of it. life is good.

but...

there are little holes in my life. little empty spaces that want to be filled up. i'm not sure what with, but they're there, aching just enough to still notice them.

i don't know. maybe it's because i can never let myself be 100% happy for any period of time. even when things are going good, i long for something else, or something reminds me that i'm not completely fulfilled for whatever reason.

they say that self-fulfillment is only to fill a void that is the absence of God, and i suppose in a way that's true. to me, God is direction or ultimate purpose, albeit a bunch of dramatic bullshit attached to it. and i do not have any real direction. i have no real purpose or "reason to live." i'm stil just kind of floating along, waiting for the answers. but really, isn't everyone?

i'm rambling. what i'm really talking about is loneliness. there are times when i feel like i have no one. i scroll through my list of friends and i see categories and side notes: "she's always busy" "he lives too far away" "she and i aren't at 'that stage' yet."

there are times when i think "i just need some new friends" but then i realize how introverted i am. and even when i'm not introverted, i make these people unavailable in my own mind. i make up flaws as to why they're not good enough for me, or why i'm not good enough for them. either way is pretty socially destructive. i truly fail at friendship.

sure, romance wiggles its way into this subject, but i've been pretty scraped up from my previous rendevoux. (all the guys that like me turn out to be psychos with no friends and all the guys i like end up choosing someone else.) because of that, i'm actually afraid to look for anything right now, which is probably for the best anyway. i'm just scared that i'll either get rejected or get stuck in another draining relationship.

i'll just stay in my room with my vibrators and hide from the world.

the wonderful world of sex shops

2009-07-26T12:18:00.000-07:00

visiting a sex store is always an experience. it is a venture involving laughter, curiosity, and the occasional scream of horror. not much can recapture the wonder of a toy store like an adult toy store. and since i am a constant observer and commentator on the things around me, i would like to list a few interesting things i've noticed about sex stores (besides the extensive collection of dildoes on the back wall).

1. the staff are always a pretty enthusiastic bunch. they make you feel welcome in this wonderland of porn and bondage gear. and although the whole "testing of the product in order for full customer service" exchange at the time of purchase is appreciated and sensible, nothing is more humbling than holding a heavily buzzing 7-inch G-spot tickler (that only takes C batteries fyi) while the guy behind the counter goes through each setting to make sure it's gonna "do the job" for me...with everyone watching.

2. i've never said "how do they come up with this?" as many times as i have within the walls of a sex store. i actually saw a contraption that is essentially a dildo chin strap for MAXIMUM enjoyment during oral sex on a female. that's right, kids. it's a strap-on for your head.

3. i always enjoy have conversations of preference: "well this one looks cool, but i'm not sure about the vinyl material. i mean, i'm sure it's more realistic and such, but dog hair sticks to it like a motherfucker."

4. blow up dolls are scary. period.

5. i like any store where i can buy a vibrator, incense, and ninja weapons all at the same place.

6. if you're unaware, it's technically illegal to sell sex toys in Georgia. the way all these sex stores get away with it is that instead of calling them what they are, they are classified as "novelty toys" or "massagers." there are even signs declaring that the toys are just to be used as novelty items and are not intended for stimulation of genetalia. i understand the technicalities, but honestly, who are they fooling? it's like this big "wink wink hush hush" operation that seems so ridiculous.

if you've never been to a sex store, i suggest working up your nerve, rounding up a few open-minded friends and making a visit. it's always an entertaining experience, believe me.

i guess this makes me a creeper.

2009-07-22T20:57:00.000-07:00

i think we are all, to a certain extent, obsessed with celebrities. there are different levels and definitions of obsession, but the fact is that most of us are fascinated fame and addicted to famous people's goings-ons.

now, you can indulge in your addiction by reading Us Weekly or People Magazine, or you can be like me and stalk famous people's Facebook/Twitter.

okay that's a bit of an overstatement. first of all, the "celebrities" i internet-stalk aren't exactly household names. most of the people i follow on Twitter or look up on Facebook are only famous in the world inside my computer. that is, popular Youtubers and independent filmmakers/actors. and by internet-stalk, i mean that i'll check their statuses and Tweets, flip thru their pictures on occasion, and if they happen to appear in my "online now" box on Facebook, i won't chat to them but instead stare at the little green dot until it turns into a little crescent moon icon or disappears altogether. and then i'm sad.

...i mean...

okay maybe that's borderline creepy, if not full-throttle creepy, but hey that's what Facebook/Twitter is for.

before you go judging me, can i stress something to you? i am Facebook friends with the star of my favorite movie of all time (Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon, no you probably haven't heard of it, which just means it's really sad to be you), Nathan Baesel. imagine that for a second. imagine if, for example, you love American Beauty and you were Facebook friends with Kevin Spacey. think about that for a hot second, and then judge me when i get ecstatic over every comment Baez and i exchange.

he follows me on Twitter guys! i'm not popular on Twitter. that meant the world to me.

yes i know it's just the internet and therefore, an alternate universe and "not real." but to someone who spends the majority of her time in front of a computer screen, it's pretty goddamn real. so just let me have this! you mocked me for fantasizing about being Johnny Depp's friend when i was going through a powerful Pirates phase, but let me have this!

(and Nathan Baesel, if you're reading this--which i'm halfway hoping you don't--please don't be freaked out. our virtual friendship just makes me very very excited.)

to become a cool geek

2009-07-19T18:14:00.000-07:00

i have decided that it's about time i adopted an actual cliche, a social niche. i predict that my best bet would be in the geek column. i mean, i'm already a geek in my head and my actions (i'm on the computer constantly, i listen to Owl City and Fionn Regan, and i was in marching band). but my clothing does not really communicate that. i mean, really, i have no fashion sense. i've been wearing the same basic rotation of clothing for at least the past 3 years.

so i think the time has come that i need to start collecting things that will communicate my geekdom to the world. sure that might make me a poser, but i like to think of it as just verifying my legit-ness.

so the question is what do i need to buy in order to make this transformation? based on my observations of the geeks in my life who i greatly admire and adore, i've compiled this checklist:

-emo glasses

-a choppy haircut with one section of hair highlighted

-several band tees and/or shirts from American Apparel

-Apple products

-checkerboard patterned textiles

-Vans and/or Converses

i believe i also need to hone in on one particular skill and constantly produce the fruits of my labor, either in a blog or on Youtube.

any other ideas? oh how i crave to be liked!

i also would love a penpal. would anyone be my penpal? i miss writing letters and sending packages. who else?

why bestiality isn't for me

2009-07-16T23:06:00.000-07:00

you knew you'd be in for fun times when you saw the title.

yes, dear reader, i'm tackling something most people don't talk about (probably because no one really wants to talk about it, and moreover, no one really wants to hear about it either): zoophilia, inter-species erotica, bestiality, and good ol' farmsex. whatever you call it, we're talking about people boning animals. fun fun.

now let's be honest here because we can all admit to this. the Discovery Channel was virtually every kid's first prime porn source. i know when i was hitting puberty, i would sit through a 1-hour documentary on the off chance that i'd get to see 12 seconds of bear fucking. and i know i'm not alone here. that's the point where most of us can stop as far as animals being a turn on in any way.

but there is apparently a joint society of people out there who sincerely love getting nailed by dogs and horses.

if you've ever seen a clip on a bestiality porn site or some viral video or even one of THOSE SHOWS, the clips all basically entail the same scenario. chick blows a horse cock that is exponentially larger than her body can withstand, gets banged for a few seconds, and then a geyser of sperm gets everywhere. (hot, right? totally.) if you have seen anything of this nature, you can't help but be entertained/disgusted/fascinated/horrified. which, like many things on the internet, just leaves you wanting to see more, even if you hate yourself for it.

besides this particular "alternative lifestyle" technically being classified as animal cruelty, and that it's literally a crime against nature, i'll let the zooaphiles keep blowing their Dobermans. fun for the whole family, whatever floats your boat, dude.

what i'm talking about is why i myself could never be into such acts of inter-species boning.

1. first of all, i'm baffled as to how one instigates this kind of encounter. how do you let the pony know you're interested? do you bring him some oats first or go straight into the massive handjob? what if he's not into it? i'd imagine rejection from a pony would be pretty harsh.

2. i could never look at my dog the same way afterward.

3. frankly, i find the idea of lying naked under a HORSE rather frightening. besides the terror of a giant horse penis swinging in my face (the sheer size is more than intimidating), horses can be pretty jumpy at times. being found trampled to death, naked and my face covered in horse sperm would be a really upsetting way to be remembered.

4. unlike human males, dogs aren't really interested in "lasting." so sure, the sex might be crazy-awesome-sexy time or whatever, but it only lasts 15 seconds tops. i can't imagine why a woman would want to continue that kind of affair. god knows she wouldn't take that from a man.

5. i'm not sure the jury is out on whether or not you can get impregnated by animals outside your species, but i won't be risking it. a litter of furry mutant sextuplets popping out of me is NOT something i would want to explain.

i miss you pt 2

2009-07-11T21:58:00.003-07:00

i was reading old emails from last year. Goo Goo Dolls was playing. i started to cry.

i miss you

2009-07-11T21:25:00.000-07:00

i've been thinking about you.

i miss:

-your picture on my Facebook friends list

-your impossibly long number in my phone

-those voicemails i saved for so long (and foolishly deleted when you stopped talking to me)

-being fake engaged to you

-anticipating your phone calls

-your accent

-the way you said my name

-banter

you found a nice girl in your own country, The Nurse. you probably live a nice life now with your nice girlfriend with her nice face and nice curls and nice smile.

meanwhile, i met a crazy boy in my country. i was okay for a while, happy, and then it all went to piping hot shit. and it all started so i could move on from you.

it hurt when you didn't show up in April like you said you would. i was sad, so sad. but you were sleeping with The Nurse, so you were probably fine.

i wonder if i could make you laugh again. maybe if you gave me a call sometime you'd remember me. i would like that. your voice always made me smile like a real idiot. that's never happened to me before or since.

i never got a chance to hold your hand, to see you smile.

but i won't intrude. i hope you're happy with her. really.

just accept my friend request.

coffee gives me headaches

2009-07-08T22:27:00.000-07:00

there are definitely benefits to living alone. for one, bubble baths at 1 am are more doable when you don't have to explain what the hell you're doing to a roommate. walking around naked after that bubble bath is a plus as well.

i'm brainstorming an idea for a short film. it'll be about a young strained couple trapped in their apartment during the zombie apocalypse. it's a comedy, but i'm mulling around a dramatic/darkly funny ending. i haven't started writing the script, i'm still developing the idea. i have high hopes though. maybe i'll finish something for once.

i'm still very into my plan of taking a break from romance for a while. there are times that i just wish i could have an "instant boyfriend" though. why is it so difficult to just CLICK with somebody? urgh. i hate this. but i'm way happier right now than i was a month ago.

i need clove cigarettes. i have "cocktail" cigarettes called California Dreams. they're just regulars but they come in pastel colors. lame.

Broadway will never love me

2009-07-07T00:55:00.000-07:00

i have always had an intense burning obsessive self-destructive passion for theater. since my debut in a junior production of Annie when i was 8 years old, i have loved musical theater with all the adoration and pain of any deep-set crush.

yes, dear reader, i may love theater but it certainly doesn't seem to love me back. or, if it does, it doesn't show it because it only calls me late at night and hangs out where we won't be seen together. i say this because in every audition i've ever been in, i've always been more or less overlooked. not unrightfully so, of course. a low alto singer like myself with a laundry list of insecurities doesn't really jump off a page among little charismatic sopranos.

i don't say this to whine, but instead to express my profound love of drama and musicals. i've never been picked first, and i may never be, but damned if i don't keep practicing. i memorize every song in my range, read monologues aloud with my own flair, and even attempt to dance (an attempt that is in vain because sadly, i will never be a dancer).

musical theater doesn't seem to ever notice my efforts, but i don't care. if there's one thing i know, it's unrequited love. and if i've learned anything from my past mistakes in that area (which i haven't) it's that you gotta take all that sorrow from being ignored and put it into trying even harder to get your love's attention. because you hold onto that dream that one day, he'll look your way and realize what a fool he's been and welcome you with open arms and a leading role.

it may never happen. it probably won't. i'll accept that Broadway will never love me back and move on with my life. but in the back of my mind, at the bottom of my heart, i will never stop getting butterflies when i think about it and all its glory, a world i can never have and is therefore made all the more beautiful.

this could all go so wrong but we're so happy

2009-07-04T19:06:00.000-07:00

happy birthday America, land of morbid obesity, virtually nonexistent gun control, and Tyler Perry. it's also a land where people can talk smack about their country and not be executed, so light a sparkler and be grateful.

i've been fully stuffed with spicy low country boil, cupcakes, and beer. there is a war of epic proportions being waged in my lower intestine.

i'm kind of over being a stripper. i still hate men, and every day reminds me why. i love my "coffee & cigarettes" playlist more every minute. i would really love a clove cigarette right now.

i would like to be in a big city on a night like tonight. there's electricity in the air (it's the instinct where you know everyone is partying and/or fucking in public), a certain excitement that makes me wish i could just go out to a bar with a group of fun and interesting people and raise a glass to freedom. i'm not sure what that has to do with the city, but somehow the addition of glowing skyscrapers makes the image sweeter.

i take all my pain and mix it with water

2009-07-02T21:39:00.000-07:00

i don't know what it is, but apparently something about me seems to announce, "Hey guys! if you buy me $6 worth of food, i'll blow you!"

men confuse me. i used to love them and admire everything about them. now i'm just getting more and more annoyed by them. the more i try to act like less of a slut, the more it backfires in my face.

maybe i'm naive. maybe the rules of the game are that if an ex from way-back-when buys you Taco Bell, you're entitled to fondle him accordingly, even if you've told him many times that no such activity would take place because you're staying celibate. "but i came all the way out to see you and i took you out to eat." oh please, i live 10 minutes away and it was a fast food drive-thru.

when i have the money, i'm happy to buy someone's food or movie ticket simply because i genuinely want to hang out with them, not because i'm expecting some reward for my trouble.

i'm sorry to any men i'm offending, but it seems like the only guys i can attract these days are all hypocritical, whiney jackasses who want me to be their little blow-up doll and i'm sick of it.

who tried to make mustard cubes with the ice tray?

2009-07-01T20:38:00.000-07:00

fml.

can you guess what just happened to me? let me tell you.

this evening, i was indulging in some old-school cartoonage, and when i say that, i mean dubbed Sailor Moon episodes. but in the middle of that, i got an urge to watch Fern Gully (mostly because my friend Hannah had sent me a text earlier in the evening mentioning Tim Curry's sexy song in it). after sifting through my DVDs, i found that Fern Gully was not there, so i figured it was still packed away in one of the boxes in the storage shed on my porch.

there is a sliding glass door that opens to my porch, and on that door is an optional safety bar that i had set in place last night. to get out, i lifted up the bar and slid the door open. my kitten Dexter started to run for the door, and since i didn't want another episode of coaxing him out of a bush, i hurriedly slammed the door...and the safety bar fell down into locking position, instantly trapping me outside.

for a moment, all i could think was "shit." my front door was locked as well, so i was basically SOL. my landlord doesn't live on the property, and even if she did, i didn't have my phone to call her.

(it occurs to me now that i could have banged on a neighbor's door, but it was 11 pm and i'm not really friendly with my neighbors just yet. i didn't want my reputation as the new tenant to be not only an irresponsible cat owner but also a ditz who locks herself out of her apartment while trying to find her Fern Gully DVD.)

my parents live right down the road from me, 3 minutes away driving, so my only choices were (a) sleep on my porch, or (b) walk to their house.

keep in mind that i've retired for the evening, so all i'm wearing is a t-shirt and my Venom boxers. no shoes. my favorite pair of shoes just so happened to be in the living room, taunting me through the glass. (now i kind of know how Jessie in Gerald's Game felt while she was handcuffed to that bed...)

so yes, dear readers, i walked about half a mile barefoot by a fairly busy highway, dying of shame every time a car passed. i prayed a cop wouldn't pull up to me, simply so i could avoid explaining the whole predicament to someone who is supposed to assume that if a girl is walking the streets wearing boxers and no shoes in the middle of the night, she must be drunk.

after a long walk, i finally arrived at my parents' house, which is where i am now as i write this. they of course found the whole ordeal hilarious (as did i on my way over as sticks and gravel dug into the soles of my tender feet). i'll be spending the night here and then i'll get my landlord to let me back in tomorrow.

so in kind of an obscure way, this is all Hannah's fault.

we're gonna go and change somebody's world

2009-06-30T23:21:00.000-07:00

i have decided to go to Strippers and ask for a job, hopefully as just a waitress simply because i don't have the means to buy proper stripper accessories right now (and i can't very well borrow it from Mom. "hey, i need some 6-inch plastic heels...for school.") it's just that i need money now, and since i'm so fascinated with Strippers, maybe i'll get lucky. it's better than Wal-Mart.

i've been trying to become comfortable being naked in heels. i put on Rocky Horror and hopped up on my coffee table in front of the mirror, stark naked with just my dressy heels on, doing the Time Warp and having a great time. then Dexter's playing made the blinds on the sliding glass door sweep open for a second, and i hit the floor. in hindsight it's funny...

this whole abstinence thing feels strangely good. my vibrator is working overtime, but it's really all i need. every time i turn down an opportunity to get laid, it's hard, but i feel progressive. like i should be earning differently colored chips to put on my keychain for every guy i turn down. i'm also taking this break from cock to let my pubes grow out, because goddammit, i miss my bush. i've been either clean or short-trimmed for months now and it's time for my business to be a ladygarden again.

i'm gonna start working on my screenplay, when i know nothing about writing screenplays. we'll see what happens.

i move the stars for no one

2009-06-30T16:18:00.000-07:00

anyone want a kitten? seriously, he's adorable. as long as you're cool with him greedily demanding food in a shrill whine every time you go into the kitchen, his need to be sitting in your lap or on your chest while he chews on himself, and keeping up with his fascination for pouncing on electrical sockets, he's yours. he's literally driving me crazy. it's a really good thing i don't plan on having children. i can barely tolerate a kitten.

so i hung up some nude photography in my bathroom. really beautiful, subtle stuff. so if you wanna see free boobies, come pee in my apartment!

the cafe i'm employed at seems to be turning out to be a wash. i haven't heard back from my boss about our opening this weekend and what the schedules are. i'm thinking it's time to move on to other opportunities (Strippers, anyone?)

my dog Krissy had an accident about an hour ago. apparently she was jumping after a squirrel and came down on a metal post in the ground and partially tore her chest open. she's okay, not like anything has been punctured, just the skin. my mom bandaged her up and they're going to the vet tomorrow. she'll most likely be just fine.

the dawn of another man-hating phase

2009-06-29T12:20:00.000-07:00

i'm not in a great mood. sorry for the shitty-ass "poetry" in the last post, but it was the most "artistic" way i could vent my frustration that day. now i'm laying it out on Front Street. i'm furious with men. really, one man, but the anger he instilled in me reminded me of other men, so men in general, feel my wrath.

why is it that when a girl makes in known that she likes sex, all respect for her goes out the window? i don't understand the translation. what is it about a woman being in touch with her sexuality that makes guys think that she's just up for it all the time? it's like whenever i blatantly state "i just like sex," i become this robot with a readily-lubed vagina to every guy who hears it.

apparently, when i said and made known to my boyfriend at the time that i simply liked sex, he became of the idea that i was as nonstop horny as he was. while i do have a healthy sex drive, i don't want to be jumping bone(r)s

every chance i get. my ladydish gets sore, and sometimes i just plain don't feel like it.

unfortunately, when i turned down my boyfriend all of five times in our relationship, he seemed unable to comprehend the idea. hence would begin an hour of whining and guilt tripping and relentless humping until i got so annoyed that i would fuck him just so he would leave me alone and let me sleep.

i was with him for 5 months, and broke up with him about 3 weeks ago. keep in mind that i've been really kind to this dude throughout this entire breakup, much kinder than i rightfully should be. and this bastard actually texted me yesterday asking for sex. seriously. after everything that's happened, after we've broken up, after i've moved and told him that my mother will cut me off financially if she finds out i have anything to do with him again, he actually has the balls to try and persuade me to fuck him.

wow.

seriously, if any guys out there are reading this, tell me that there is some hope for the human male, because all my experience in that field has been nothing but tears and total disgust.

because of this whole ordeal, i've been convinced that i apparently come off as a complete no-holds-barred whore, so guess what? abstinence, bitches. i'm done with this game. time for me to be the virginal little good girl that i never was.

my kingdom for vagina dentata.

returning to Virgo

2009-06-28T22:52:00.000-07:00

sink in, realize,

am i just an object?

sink down, so queasy,

oh god oh god.

sink sink sink, anger,

what do you take me for?

did i ever say i was your property?

why did you say those things?

if you love me,

why do the other words sting so much?

the bruises fade

on the skin and on the heart.

keep opening your wounds

just for the attention.

go ahead, you don't fool me.

sinking down, below the surface

i'm starting over

cleaning the grime off of my skin.

reclaiming my chastity

so you won't mistake me for your whore.

blogging/drinking

2009-06-27T17:05:00.000-07:00

i've learned to love whiskey. vodka used to be my only love, but lately vodka has betrayed me with instantaneous headaches and nausea. whiskey is much kinder, giving me that slipperiness in my bones and buzzing dissolve in my thinking.

the only downside to drinking is that i usually drink alone. i don't have real drinking buddies (they're more like booty calls that aren't likely to happen). any time i've been drinking with other people, it's been an accidental sporadic thing. my usual drunken routine involves having a couple of drinks, then going through my phone and calling/texting nearly everyone, some overly friendly, some sexual. people have told me that they love my drunken voicemails. i believe one involved me saying "i don't think Jesus loves me in a sexual way." good times.

so i'm slowly realizing that i'll be in this luscious apartment for 13 months. unlike the Shithole, this is less of a death sentence and more of a blessing. here's to hoping i'll adjust swimmingly and make wonderful friends and discover myself (and earn enough money to decorate my walls. my bedroom is bare in order for my living room to be less stark).

i'm still a little sad about Michael Jackson. it's simply bizarre that he's actually dead. but that's the beauty of celebrity: you never really die, your work and your fans live on and in that way, you're immortal. i was never really a fan, never a scorner, just kind of on that middle ground wondering what was going on in Michael's own little world. i can imagine what real fans are going through. i've been lucky to not have celebrity death touch me close to home yet, but i know it's coming. the night of Michael's death, i imagined if Bruce Springsteen (whom i revere not only as the greatest musician ever, but also practically my father) died, and i actually began to tear up. so Michael fans, i truly mourn your loss.

Dexter is fine by the way. he's been eating baby food (which literally smells like shit) and is tearing around the apartment as usual again. he looks a hot mess because of all the boogeryness crusting into his fur, but his enthusiasm seems to have returned anyway.

confession

2009-06-26T22:18:00.000-07:00

so i have a not-so-secret confession to make. for a long time now, i've been fascinated with a certain business, everything about it. its execution, its appeal, its effects on everyday people. it is a business that is frowned upon by most but secretly adored by more, and is one of the few high paying jobs that no parent would be particularly pleased to hear about.

yes, dear reader, i am talking about stripping.

i find the whole idea of stripping very intriguing. after reading Diablo Cody's excellent book Candy Girl, my interest skyrocketed. although her account of being an exotic dancer was by no means a sugar-coated saga of balls to the wall fun, it was hella fascinating.

this intrigue solidified a few months ago when i finally ventured to a real live strip club for the first time, a place simply called Strippers (billboard tagline: Need We Say More? Open 12 Noon. Truckers Welcome!). my two female friends and i were all strip club virgins and therefore quite giddy about the whole situation. we weren't sure what to expect; the only thing i had to make judgements by was Diablo's book and what little i'd seen in movies. after ID's were shown and the final door was opened by the rather cheerful doorman, we stepped into what some might call another world...and what others might call a smoky room full of dudes and topless chicks and blaring music. (the DJs at Strippers are intolerable. they're practically giving head to the mic as they scream "Naked ladies up on the stage!", as if no one has noticed the nude girls in the center of the room.)

maybe Strippers isn't the best example of what a strip club can really be, but it's the closest i'm gonna get this far from Atlanta. Strippers isn't terrible, a good starter strip club i think. i've been twice now and have enjoyed myself both times. while the girls aren't all goddesses, they are always very sweet and cool, and while i understand that it's their job to be friendly in order to get tips, it feels genuine. i held a conversation with a redhead who told me about earning her engineering degree while the neon balls of her barbell nipple rings glowed in the corner of my eye (might i mention, she also gave me a free, unexpected lapdance to boot. i guess she liked me). a place like Strippers might be "objectifying" women, but since the girls aren't drop dead gorgeous, no one seems to take much offense.

but i digress. long story short, this fascination with strippers and the whole idea behind stripping (supposedly exploited girls take their clothes off while glazed truckers and frat boys throw money at them for jiggling their tits. who's really being exploited?) has sparked the inevitable idea in my head: i wonder if i would make a good stripper? you think i'm joking, but i really, really am not. there have been many times lately that i've looked in the mirror and while examining myself, wondered if all that would look good in a neon bikini under a black light. i've fantasized about applying to Strippers, working the floor, being friends with those cool girls with their bleached hair and scorpion tattoos. i've been listening to songs and imagining if i could strip to them.

i guess all i'm asking, dear reader, is if i were giving you a lapdance, would you tip me?

turning into a brand new universe

2009-06-26T10:59:00.000-07:00

yesterday was the most multi-layered, exciting day i've experienced in a while. the last week has mostly involved me not wanting to leave my lush apartment, but yesterday i actually went out....to the very place i'd moved away from. it was redundant, but somehow an otherwise boring place seems more enjoyable when you know you don't live there. it also helps to have cool people to hang out with.

the restaurant that i'm employed to has yet to open. it was supposed to today, but the date has been pushed back to next weekend. but i did get $40 for coming in for training, which was pretty sweet. bought some gas and Chinese food, and still have $20 left over.

Dexter is sick. he was outside the other night and apparently got stung by something. half his face was swelled up yesterday, and when i came home last night he was all boogery and his fur was crusted from drooling all over it. he's walking around, just sleeping a lot. i'm worried, but my mom has had cats before and says they are nearly indestructible.

the only thing that bothers me about the situation is my neighbor. she's my landlord's daughter and lives across the hall. she's come to me twice about Dexter, being a pet owner herself. but she's the type of pet owner who is much like the conservative mother of a toddler.

he was outside once and she knocked on my door and gave him to me, as if it were 40 degrees outside and he had been buried in snow. and then the other night when he was outside again, i went out to look for him and found her crouched by the bush trying to coax him out. he wouldn't come out after a brief standoff of us cooing at him, so i said "he'll probably be fine. he knows where the food is." and we both went back to our apartments. a few minutes later, i figured i'd have better luck getting him myself than with a stranger there. so i grabbed a flashlight and walked back outside...and my neighbor has returned to the bush ahead of me. this image irks me to no end. two other neighbors showed up, leading to another standoff of four grown people trying to scare a kitten out of a bush. Dexter finally came to me and i carted him back home, humiliated and relieved to be out of that situation.

then this morning, my landlord knocks on my door and says she's been getting "complaints" about Dexter. she says it's because there's a leash law in Perry that i was unaware of, but the fact that her daughter clearly called her up and said that i'm just leaving my kitten outside to the elements and seemingly don't give a shit about him really bothers me. look, i love my animals, but i also understand that they're not helpless creatures. Dexter is a cat for God's sake. cats are fine doing whatever the hell they want. and honestly, after being trapped in that shitty house for 4 months, i would think he would like a little fresh air.

but no. some goody-goody pet lover has to come in and make me feel bad because i thought my cat would enjoy being outside. it just bothers me.

things i've noticed after watching a lot of porn...

2009-06-24T20:50:00.001-07:00

i don't really consider myself a porn expert (i don't own any, for one), but i've seen my share thanks to websites like Xtube and Pornhub (the latter is much better in terms of variety). and more often than not, i watch porn to observe rather than, ahem, "fuel the fire." but after you watch enough porn, especially in the span of a few hours, you notice some things that are worth commentating on.

(1) i understand that porn is strictly fantasy, and that to fill that generality, the most mainstream porno has to fit into one cookie cutter shape: a screeching tiny blonde chick with fake googly-eye boobs getting plowed by a buff guy with a huge cock and no visible emotions. the process of the unfolding sex is even the same: kissing to blowjob to vaginal to cumshot. this is strange because pornography is the most vast entertainment medium. there are virtually no limits to what porn can offer, and yet the most common videos have the same scenarios with the same people.

(2) i find it comforting that whether you're just an average joe or Jenna Jameson, switching positions is almost always done awkwardly.

(3) hentai (Japanese anime porn) is awesome, ridiculous, and sometimes disturbing. awesome because it is usually short, passionate, and lovely to look at (anime usually is). ridiculous becausethe vaginas are white, the penises are bright red, the boobs are often gargantuan, and there are always buckets of...wetness oozing out of every orifice. disturbing because many of the situations involve gang rape, and the girls always seem to be in a lot of pain (even in non gang rape scenes).

(4) Katie Morgan is the coolest pornstar ever. she's cute, funny, fairly smart, and her moaning feels very genuine. i love her.

(5) just a quick tip to the porn industry: when shooting a scene that involves a Catholic priest fucking someone, for the sake of realism, don't hire a guy with a foreskin piercing to play the priest. just a suggestion.

i'll spend another year alone

2009-06-21T21:17:00.000-07:00

Liz Phair and i have a few things in common. I woke up in your arms and immediately felt sorry. such sums up my feelings towards men for the past year or so.

my relationships have been...well, honestly, it's downright ridiculous what i've allowed myself to put up with. all the coldness and neediness, the pitiful leeches and apathetic fuckbuddies...i let myself get into these relationships (if you could call them that) because of, survey says, INSECURITY.

i was ignored by guys all through school, despite my best efforts to try to gain the attention of a few. i took this to mean that i was unworthy of male attention and, as much as it hurt, i accepted it and decided to sink into the shadows. then suddenly, a few dudes started taking an interest in me. i didn't take a shine to most of these guys so much for who they were as people; rather that my mentality was "a boy is paying attention to me!"

this pre-pubescent-esque state of mind earned me a string of bizarre and unfulfilling encounters with opposite sex. throughout, i told myself that i wanted to sample everyone's flavor because i found sex and intimacy a beautiful poetic connection to the universe and some other Hindu bullshit. the reality was i was still an insecure chubby girl who figured "this is the best i'm gonna get."

now, my whole sad story doesn't end with me getting an abortion and finally deciding that Prince Charming really is worth waiting for, as long as it's through Jesus. that don't fly. the bottom line is that i've learned a lot from the shit i've gone through, namely the mistakes i've made. settling for a leech; falling in love with someone who still loved his ex; staying when someone said they couldn't live without me. and above all, not listening to my loved ones (and really, my own head) when they told me to leave.

well no more. i'm done pretending to love someone forever just to avoid hurting their feelings. i'm done being with anyone. i'm tired. i'm starting over, and in order to do it right, i need to start with myself. until this project is finished (or at least on a pretty solid middle ground), i'm not gonna go offering myself up to the first person who looks me over. it's time that i gained some respect for myself the old fashioned way, starting now.

a blog in which i bitch about GUYS

2009-04-20T21:53:00.000-07:00

i'm supposed to be doing a thesis right now. fuck that, i have emotions to express.

will i ever find man? not a boy, not a guy, but a man?

what a question, right? it seems like the only males i attract are guys who get bored with me pretty quickly or boys who are constantly groping at my feet begging me to love them. what the fuck is up with that? in school, boys never paid attention to me (that i could see) and now i've suddenly got dysfunction coming from all sides.

i recently found out that the only guy (make that one of the only people) who i ever really clicked with and felt i had something with is now engaged to an ex-girlfriend. so that makes me the chick he fucked during their hiatus. i hope he remembers me every time she gives him shitty head (or doesn't at all).

i honestly hate it whenever a guy says "i'd die for you" or "you're my life" or anything else along those lines. i almost hate the phrase "i love you." i think my problem is that i have a hard time believing anyone could actually feel that strongly for me. i've spent so long curled up in a little shell feeling unobserved and trying to avoid anyone making a fool of me, and now that i'm out in the open, i have no idea what i'm doing. i think i'm just terrified of being tricked. i'm like Carrie. only hopefully not as bad.

Bryan is texting me all these things that make me physically ill. "describe me in one word" "how much do you love me?" "would you write me a letter?" Jesus Christ, dude. why are you suddenly going all Cameron on me?

is it so hard to find a guy who i can drink with, who will read books, watch movies with me, go on quiet adventures with me, vlog...i'm gonna be alone forever. no, scratch that, i'll be stuck with weirdos forever.

you never go ass to mouth!

2009-04-18T19:02:00.000-07:00

i'm drinking wine, eating Cheez-its, and watching Clerks 2. let's hope i don't ruin this perfect evening by drunk dialing a certain crush. i'm getting there though. i wonder how successful luring a dude over with the promise of peppermint schnappes is.

i wonder if Binx feels as awkward as i do when i accidentally brush his balls when i put him down...

Bryan and i went to Savannah last night and actually hit the town and Tybee today. it was fun, finally swimming in the ocean again and purchasing a very exciting piece of Springsteen memorabilia (1978 LP of "Dark Side of Town").

i WAS exhausted when i came home, ready to just chill and such, but instead i vacuumed, cleaned the litterbox, and decorated the walls in the living room. suddenly the room looks much better. Fall Out Boy, the Joker, and Bruce now adorn my wall, and i feel complete.

dammit. why can i not stop thinking about that delicious, hard, sculpted body of Caleb's? GODDAMMIT!!!

put that ho on a leash

2009-04-15T12:29:00.000-07:00

why is it that when i willingly offer my opinion, which to me is the equivalent of stretching my arm out on the cutting board, i always get shot down and am suddenly missing an arm?

my political science class has group discussions about central issues every week, usually covering issues like gun control or gay marriage, the classics. i'm not one to offer my opinion in front of a group of strangers, so usually i sit quietly in the midst of the madness and just listen. a few times i've been called on by my professor to speak up and when i have spoken, my arguments have been pretty good. but today i got cocky. i actually raised my hand and spoke about illegal downloading of music and was promptly shot down by my professor and left to flounder silently for what was really a few moments but felt like a very slow 5 minutes. i've spent the rest of the day returning to that moment and it makes my stomach roll (i'm like that with embarrassing moments).

i'm not saying that my opinion was right (it probably wasn't) but it's my opinion. i don't like having discussions where the main goal is to verbally destroy another person just because you can. i don't like "i know more than you, you're a fool" conversations. what progress does that make? debating is fine, but pwning someone just for having an opinion is unnecessary.

i wish Kat Dennings would start posting vlogs again. she's genuinely funny and i could watch those pillowy red lips of hers make words for hours.

i know that Lady Gaga is a good example of how superficial and synthed pop music is now...but i still love her.

well off to work. i'll blog/Tweet while i'm there just in case something interesting happens.

if i wanna play, i'll play with me

2009-04-14T17:27:00.000-07:00

i'm honestly gonna try and keep up with this blog. promise. i would vlog, but my best observations are seen thru my eyes versus my camera's.

there is $40 sitting on my dresser. it's to pay my water bill. but i really only need $35 of that for the bill........12-packs of delicious Diet Pepsi are calling....

i have a job now (a job for which i'm not yet being paid) at the campus police department as a dispatcher. yeah, sounds pretty cool, right? well, it probably is for people who are less terrified of phone conversations than i am. talking on the radio to practical strangers and then putting what they say into a computer? and they're all talking at the same time? and if you miss something, you can't call them back without being embarrassed? and when you get behind, your trainer yells at you and you can't cry "I'm sorry Trent! I'm too incompetent for this job!"....not really the best career move i've taken, but let's face it, these is desperate times, friends. and Best Buy wouldn't hire me.

my cat Binx seems to get more full of himself every minute. he has it in his head that he is entitled to the leftovers of whatever food i have (including Ramen broth and the last dribble of milk at the bottom of the glass) and that every open window is his personal passageway to Narnia. i've gotta hand it to him, his blunt persistence is admirable. it also makes me want to hurl him across a room.

just whining

2009-03-15T15:30:00.000-07:00

every time my roommate says her dog's name, a kitten dies. and let me tell you, there are a lot of fucking dead kittens in the world right now.

i just want to be away from everything in my life that i hate, namely my house. i want just be AWAY. but no one will join me. every one of my friends seems conveniently unavailable. i know Hannah will be MIA for the next week since Steven is home. God knows what Jessica will be up to. several of my friends' spring break was this past week, so i'm SOL.

i want it to be warm and sunny outside. i want to drive with my windows down, clove cigarette in hand, sunglasses perched on my nose, Springsteen blasting from my stereo. but it's raining. so i stay inside and listen to Sera babble in Korean to her dog for hours.

was there a time when i was completely happy? i can't remember anymore. i just feel miserable and desperate all the time. i want a job. i want to be away from Georgia, from familiar things.

i just feel empty.

insomnia rules my life

2009-03-10T23:15:00.000-07:00

i don't get tired anymore. at least not at night. i don't know when and why my internal clock decided to go and switch on me, but it has and i don't know how to switch it back.

i'm thinking of making a train-of-thought video in which i just say "penis" over and over. so many hits.

i was studying my psychology when out of nowhere i leaned back, stared at the ceiling and said "oh my god. i am so unhappy." just an incredulous realization rather than a depressed statement. i really am unhappy. my life is so...there is no word for it. it's so stagnent, repetitive. i don't know how to change it, if i should move or get a hobby or just grow up and deal with it. i'm just so bored all the time, and in that boredom i remember better times when i thought i was happy and then in turn remember how/why those happy times aren't around anymore. then i get really depressed and masturbate myself into sweating, teeth-grinding oblivion.

i don't think i could ever be a lesbian, but i think if the right girl came along, i'd certainly take advantage of the situation. just throwing that out there.

i need a vacation. i need to get drunk and have sex. i need to sin. i need Valdosta. i need Michael to want me again. i need the ocean. i need money. i need a job. i need acceptance. i need things to be easier. i need good cock. i need good kisses. i need to talk about something meaningful. i need someone to tell me they love me. i need to be held. i need bookshelves. i need Tom to be single. i need someone to need me.

i have lost my mouth again

2009-02-25T20:38:00.000-08:00

my fingertips always feel like they're on the verge of cracking open and bleeding out.

my room has been revamped, thank god. all the stark whiteness was driving me insane. now i'm going for a French bistro look. all i need now is my bookshelf and a nice rug.

i'm working on distancing myself from my roommate. we have really nothing in common to begin with. why attempt to save such a flailing relationship? if things don't improve, i'm gonna consider moving out.

the man i love has a girlfriend. it's Facebook official. this fact puts me thru unmentionable agony.

i plan to go visit Larry in California either spring break or during the summer. returning to my home state will be refreshing and amazing. i can really appreciate it now.

i don't know what i want for the future, but i know what i want right now. i want to finish my story. i want to put my shelves up. i want Tom to be mine. i want to live in Chicago for a year before moving to England permanently. i want to be passionate again.

that's what i'm missing. passion. excitement. enthusiasm. i'm so tired and annoyed all the time. no more. i refuse to grow up and accept misery. i will remain delusional and happy.

self-indulgent misery

2009-02-21T21:36:00.000-08:00

i just returned from the most boring date i've ever been on. the activities were fun (dinner at Zaxby's, zombie-killing in the mall arcade, Twix ice cream at Bruster's, and catching The Uninvited which was much better than i was anticipating). the dude was not. cute, but not interesting. he was too good, too wholesome. a Baptist who was raised by his grandparents, who doesn't want anything to do with strippers, who is concerned about starving people.

i kept telling myself throughout the evening that he was just babbling on and on about himself because he was nervous and i wasn't making any interjections. but even after that mantra, i began losing my patience with it. he would even interrupt me to mention something unimportant.

he didn't touch me during the movie, or the car ride home, or at my door. he only gave me an awkward hug and we parted.

then as soon as he had pulled out of my driveway, i got a text from him saying how sorry and embarrassed he was for being so weird. just nervous. i of course said i understood and i guess now we have plans for a second round, this time with less weirdness.

so, i was a good date, sweet and grateful and charming as i could possibly be. i didn't do anything stupid or weird. he was the one being awkward and lame and embarrassing. he's the one who messed up. we've made plans to resolve this odd evening.

if that's the case...then why do i feel so shitty and tired and just want to cry alone in my cold empty bed?

is it because i endured yet another unsuccessful and disappointing date, only this time i didn't end up getting groped?
is it because i was expecting to actually have a solidly good experience with a guy but instead i got stuck with weird and awkward and unenjoyable AGAIN?
is it because the one i think i could really love and maybe even end up with (cosmically impossible as it is) has a girlfriend and i'm desperately trying to erase the jealousy and loneliness that causes me?

should i just stop trying to find the one i really want? should i just stop being so goddamn picky and just settle for a decent-looking guy who likes me? should i just forget about finding someone i can actually talk to and have genuine fun with without even trying? should i just let that all go to hell because it's obviously just never going to happen for me? it's always going to be just out of reach, and to wait around for it is just foolish. why do i even try?

i should just be a good stupid little girl and stick with whatever is thrown at me just for the sake of not being seen alone and scared and vulnerable. God evidently doesn't want it any other way.

what's been going on

2009-02-20T14:40:00.000-08:00

the past two weeks have been eventful. adjusting to living in a place with no heat and neighbors who own obnoxious dogs, along with adapting to a new roommate who has a puppy she doesn't know how to care for, not to mention schoolwork, has eaten up a bit of time. i'm grateful for the weekend. i have the house to myself for two days (no car though), a b-day party to attend tonight and a possible date tomorrow. things are looking up.

i am also currently a straight-A student. for the first time in my life. wow.

i'm a little hesitant about this party tonight. all the people i adore aren't coming, save for the guests of honor (i.e., the b-day girls), so i'll be spending the evening with a bunch of the mediocre extras in the cast of my life movie.

speaking of movies, i got an idea for a screenplay in Hong Kong the other day. i don't have a plot formed yet, but i know that the first line in the trailer has Michael Cera saying "i've decided when i want to kill myself" to his great aunt across the dinner table. it will be epic.

after reading Candy Girl by Diablo Cody, i have an itch to read all the other stripper/call girl memoirs out there.

i've got troubled thoughts and the self-esteem to match

2009-02-08T20:40:00.000-08:00

i want my life to be sex. i want it to revolve around sex. i want a job involving sex, i want clothes that evoke sex, i want a boyfriend who will sex me every time i want it, i want to eat sexy food. i want a stripper pole in my living room, a drawer of dildos, and a closet of lingerie. i want my eyes, my hips, my hands, my lips, my hair, my legs to scream out my love of sex. i want to know my vagina is perfect and that my breasts are amazing and that my mouth is delicious.

frankly, i want cock right now.

stiff nipples

2009-02-05T21:03:00.000-08:00

it's not supposed to be this cold. goddammit. this is just ridiculous.

my roommate got a new puppy. he's a German shepherd. we named him Brendon. i keep wanting to call him Jacob because he's so wolfy looking.

sometimes i realize that i've never been in love. everything i've ever mistaken for love was just admiration because it was never returned, at least not in the same way. it's probably a good thing, since the men i've been involved with aren't exactly catches (you could call most of them downright losers). but still, it's a little disheartening to realize that you're not as experienced as you think you are.

i need sex. i need Tom to be here. i need. i always just need.

just like a circus

2009-02-04T20:00:00.000-08:00

i'm genuinely glad that Britney's back. "Circus" is a great song and she looks gorgeous in the video. i've secretly missed her.

my new roommate Sera is spending a few nights at my house. this is like the testing period before we'll be full-blown living together, i guess. it was awkward at first, but i think we're getting along well. her mom called a little while ago and when she picked up she started speaking Korean. it was pretty awesome.

we're getting a boxer puppy. we're gonna name her Yuna.

i need to start writing again. not just for school. for real.

i have two tests next week. i haven't studied for either.

i'll be posting a naked vlog soon. we'll see how people resond. i know a few people who will probably be horrified...they'll be the same people spraying their shorts. because i am so fucking sexy. hells yeah.

the silence reminds me of how much noise is missing

2009-02-02T20:08:00.000-08:00

i think i'm depressed. not all the time, but in bursts. i spend alot of my time alone, holed up in my room, either on the computer or masturbating in my bed.

it's weird having an orgasm when you're lonely. how your entire state of mind can go from being in the midst of intense pleasure and then snap to complete and utter misery. i've had an orgasm and burst into tears.

it's like the fact that you can achieve some form of intimacy by yourself amplifies how lonely you are. the entire time during masturbation is all about feelings and fantasy, imagining you're with someone and telling them how good everything feels, letting the sensations rise with the music on your stereo so you can climax when the song does, etc.
and then the moment after orgasm, it's like being shoved directly back into the harsh reality of you, in your bed, completely alone in a room. it's so completely real and cold that it makes your heart break.
and then you're lying in your bed, naked from the waist down, crying into your hands, which doesn't much help your case.

i need some reason for living. sure i have plenty of reasons to want to stick around, but none of them are reasons for living. none of them are me fulfilling a purpose. i need that spark.

sometimes i think, even if in the very pits of depression lapping up the black tar of my own misery, i still wouldn't kill myself because i wouldn't want to make anyone pay for my funeral.

the blog in which i whine alot

2009-01-31T21:09:00.000-08:00

it's official. i have a huge crush on Kevin Spacey and i don't care who knows it. i finally bought American Beauty on DVD tonight and my fifth viewing of the film has solidified my love for him.

i've pledged to stay off sex for a while and while i do feel that i should stand by that decision, it gets hard sometimes. not like i'm having to turn a long line of dudes down (seriously, i'm lucky if i notice a guy looking at me. i'm terrible at realizing when someone's flirting), not hard like that. it's hard in that i'm really lonely all the time. i mean...i was lonely even when i was sexually active because none of those relationships were particularly functional. but now it's a more pronounced loneliness. like a neon sign that keeps flickering the message "YOU HAVE NO ONE" blazingly into my eyes.

it doesn't help that i've been having a fat day. i feel fatter now than i did before i started working out.

school is........God, school is so painfully unimportant to me. i have no particular dislike for the classes (except political science, only because i'm not big on politics and i have a test this week that i haven't even begun studying for). it just really doesn't matter that much to me. i don't know what i want to do with my life. i almost feel like i'm just going to school to save myself from the embarrassment of not going to school.

my plan was to escape to England this summer so i wouldn't have to worry about saving face here in Cochran, but regrettably, there's a good chance that won't be happening. hence my depression. maybe i can convince Tom to fall in love with me and stay with me until we can both go England.

i've never been in love. i've never had a functional relationship. the men in my life have either been into me and then completely lost interest or have latched onto me obsessively and refused to let go. none of my relationships have been mutual. i think about it sometimes and it breaks my heart a little. it scares me.

alot of things about me make me fear the future.

i find boxers revolting

2009-01-29T20:20:00.000-08:00

i do. it's just a thing. boxer briefs are ideal.

anyway, things are looking up now. we've sold the house and i'll be moving out next weekend. i'll be renting this little brick house in town. i have a roommate from South Korea. she's really sweet and extremely grateful that she doesn't have to live in the dorms anymore. i honestly can't wait to start moving in.

i had a dream the other night that i was involved in a threesome with Robert Pattinson. i don't know who the girl was, but Rob was giggling throughout in that classic Rob way. it was nice.

give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention

2009-01-25T21:08:00.000-08:00

i finally finished Invisible Monsters. i've had it for over a month but stopped reading it just about three chapters short of being done, but today i finished up and feel much better about it now. it's a great book, brilliant satire littered with truly bleak fragments. gotta love Palahniuk.

i've been having some vivid dreams lately, all of which i feel quite uncomfortable in. during a post-masturbatory nap (which can be quite deep) the other day, i dreampt that i had awoken from said nap and found a man circling around the house, and he apparently was a hopeful buyer of the house and had already moved half of his stuff into the kitchen, and then was bringing our clothes in from the clothesline and folding them and sniffing them...it was weird. (when i woke up i thought it had been real, but then realized that i was naked and in the dream i had been dressed, so i was relieved.)
then last night i had a dream that i was walking through either an airport or a mall and i spotted my English friend Tom, just sitting with some people and drinking a slushie. i was surprised and hurt that i hadn't been informed of his arrival. as i walked by i didn't look at him, hoping he'd see me first (i do that often). he didn't.
maybe these dreams stem back to real issues i've been having. the first is probably all the stress that's been going on with the house and how it's invading my life without warning. the second is my own insecurities that Tom has moved on from me and i'm not as important to him as he is to me. God, i am touchy.

i've gained a sudden and quite fevered interest in Doctor Who. i wish the season sets weren't so outrageously priced though.

i have the distinct feeling that no one reads this blog, which is okay with me. it serves as a more private diary. i need one and i have no notebooks available to me, so here it is.

hopefully my life will get more interesting soon.

is that question relevant to the first one?

2009-01-25T13:05:00.000-08:00

i had the good fortune to go to my first club last night and of course, knowing me, i picked a gay club to pop my cherry.

it was overall a pretty kickass experience. i was the DD which was kind of a bummer, but it was also fun to be responsible for my two tipsy gays in Subway. there was a drag show (where only one of the queens was actually pretty. she looked like a Pussycat Doll in her fishnets) and then a huge dance party, although there was a quite obvious (although somewhat unintentional) segregation between the white club (scarcely crowded, where people mostly mingled at the bar and watched the few shirtless guys dance on the floor) and the black club (people grinding on the stage and no room to walk in the crowd).

i danced (badly) with quite a few very cute guys. i learned that gays are very aggressive dancers, so i really need to up my game. there was one point where i bumped into one of the shirtless guys and got my entire upper arm slicked in his back sweat.

it was a good night, although next time i plan to drink, not wear red lipstick, and work on my dancing (or maybe it's more accurate to say "gain a less flimsy grasp on the art of dancing").

shweek = shit week

2009-01-23T13:09:00.000-08:00

i've had a hell of a shweek for a variety of reasons.

between all this stress about selling the house, tension with my mother, severe lack of money, issues with Cameron, longing for a man on the other side of the ocean (who may or may not have a girlfriend), and general teenaged angst, i really did not need the news that i could no longer work in my mom's division of the college. so i'm suddenly jobless when just three days ago i was stressing about getting a second job.

oh, and i missed an assignment for my online class. there's no numerical grade for it. it just says FAIL in big letters in that blank. pretty much sums up my current life: made of FAIL.

i've had enough. so what am i gonna do to bring me down off the ledge? round up some of my favorite people and run off to enjoy some 3D gore.

peace.

frustration

2009-01-22T20:07:00.001-08:00

how many more times will i sit down at my computer to generate my million-and-four ideas into decent writing and come out with absolutely nothing? it eats away at me, like guilt-roaches crawling around in my guts and nibbling away at my stomach lining.

writing used to be my one passion. i used to be able to entertain myself for hours just scribbling intense scenes all over every sheet of paper available to me. they didn't have to attach to a story. they just existed by themselves, simply because i HAD to write them down, flesh the pictures in my head into some form of existence.

now i'm dried up and fruitless. it's as if my writing womb has suddenly been stricken barren. and it kills me.

i want the passion back. i'll have absolutely nothing to live for if i don't feel passionate about something again. lately all i feel is bored or angry and i hate it.

except for this morning. i don't know why, but listening to Paramore and walking briskly in my P.E. class, i was suddenly overcome with a giddy, shivery feeling that made me want to cry out for no reason. it lingered briefly and then faded away. i don't know why, but for just a few random seconds, i felt happy for the first time in a while.

i feel like i'm waiting for something that's taking too long to get here. i'm waiting for Tom to get here or i'm waiting to escape to England or i'm waiting for Walgreens to call me back or i'm waiting until the house is sold. only then will my life begin. i hate waiting like this. it just makes me feel like i'm making excuses.

i'm just so angry. impatient. stagnant. bored. unhappy. STILL. i'm standing as still as i was before, and i'm screaming into silence. and the longer i stand, waiting, the more trapped i feel. there are days when i think that if i don't get out (REALLY get out) this year, i'll never leave. that terrifies me.

i feel useless and lazy and claustrophobic. i'm suffocating and no one understands why. i keep telling myself to be a grownup and stop thinking so selfishly. i keep suppressing how much my mother is hurting me because i don't want to appear ungrateful or immature. i've silently pushed my wants to the back in order to take responsibility for things i didn't anticipate. i won't admit to Cameron that i was never in love with him because i can't bring myself to be that mean, so i continue to soak up all the pain he constantly hurls at me. there are times when i suddenly snap awake out of my fantasies and realize that i might be alone forever.

everything just keeps building up, little bubbles of acid that keep getting injected into my bloodstream and burning my veins away. and i'm not saying anything. i'm not releasing it. i'm just letting it burn.

i'll surely die from this.

15 minutes before work ends

2009-01-22T14:15:00.000-08:00

although truthfully i could leave now if i wanted to. but somehow cheating on Ruby with this smooth new Gateway laptop just feels too good. (note: adjusting to a borrowed keyboard is just as befuddling as adjusting to a new lover.)

i had a realization today, and not one that i particularly liked. for some reason, it popped into my head that every dude i've shared my earthly delights with has repulsed me in some way. not anything that was necessarily a deal-breaker, but just some small little quirk (i.e., weird laugh, creepy smile, Down's syndrome head, etc) that literally made my stomach roll. but at the time of being in these relationships, i overlooked it, mostly because i was so caught up in the bliss of "SOMEONE'S PAYING ATTENTION TO ME!!!!" but now, looking back, i begin to wonder if it's a psychological thing...maybe something's built in me to automatically find men disgusting...then again, it could just be that my track record is just lined up with gross guys.

i pay attention in class, i really do. just because i have scenes of raunchy scream-sex going on in my head doesn't mean i'm not absorbing anything.
also: i want a screamer. the guys i've had were too quiet. i want him to come to fruition with his mouth agape and roars of stress and pleasure peeling out of it. i want to understand every nuance of his orgasm. just a little fantasy of mine.

i finally did it. i finished Diablo Cody's Pussy Ranch blog. now onto her Myspace blog. and i still don't know what happened between her and her ex-husband Jonny, but it makes me sad.

fuck this. i'm cutting out 6 minutes early.

FYI: Killola is my new favorite band.

third attempt at a blog today

2009-01-21T19:44:00.000-08:00

it's been a persnickety day. i've tried to start a blog three times today and i keep getting interrupted. now i'm finally alone and can write one.

and of course, now i am uninspired. typical.

i guess the only thing you can do in jams like this is just spit out random little brain lugis:

1. i must stop doing the following things:
a. seething over little things that will not matter in two months
b. being lazy
c. catering to other people's whining
d. fantasizing about marrying a certain person who may or may not have some nurse for a girlfriend now.

2. i'm trying to better myself. i recently realized what an uninteresting blob i've become since high school graduation and it sickens me. i'm exercising now, i'm really getting feverish about being accepted in the Youtube community, i'm really trying to LEARN THINGS, i'm finally employed again...anything to repolish and add new facets to my personality. it's become so stagnent and i need to fix that.

3. i want my own apartment. in England.

4. i think i get paid on Friday, which would be epic. do you know how long it's been since i received a paycheck? also i should be getting my financial aid refund card in soon, so i'll suddenly have money again!

5. i want the funny Australians and amazing Scottish people on Youtube to accept me as friends...*sad face* :(

6. i don't want to get married, but i'd like to be engaged. i don't want a kid, but i'd like to see what a hypothetical kid between me and the man of my choosing would look like.

7. Russell Brand is the original Jack Sparrow, and is therefore MORE than deserving of my love and adoration. i want to draw him. and this gorgeous picture i found of Diablo Cody.

i'll stop now. maybe i'll eventually write something that's actually good.

lots of words

2009-01-20T18:46:00.001-08:00

i keep hearing the faint sound of screaming off in the distance...maybe it's the faraway cry of cheers that we finally have a new president.
anyone who knows me has heard me say many times that i'm not particularly political. i do respect people who are savvy in that area, but i'm sincerely uninterested in diving in myself. therefore i lack a solid opinion on the Bush administration, except that i'm glad it's over.
maybe it's simply the idea of having someone new in charge. maybe it's because i personally had a hand in getting Obama into office (despite how small that hand was). either way, it's very exciting.

i wonder if Darren Lynn Bousman is having a good day, seeing as two of his movies came out on DVD today, Saw V and Repo! The Genetic Opera. i'm more thrilled about the latter of the two, quite honestly. i feel that i've betrayed someone in lagging in my loyalty to the Saw series, even though i know as well as anyone how much they've progressively sucked with each sequel. still, i made a promise to myself to remain loyal just for the love of horror, and sadly i feel that i've failed.
Repo! will be coming in my Netflix soon. i'm so pumped. it will be my hip Rocky Horror. my current favorite song from the movie is "Chase the Morning" with Sarah Brightman and Alexa Vega...

speaking of bad horror, if you ever get the opportunity to see a little-known film called Seed...don't. if you must, however, do it simply for the shock value (which, by the way, grows less shocking as the minutes tick by).

take, for example, this scene from the film. it has no apparent link to the rest of the plot besides the presence of the bad guy. notice how the scene starts out with potential (the still, wide shot, no music, etc), and then progressively gets more and more terrible (in quality, not content). it was the film's one shining moment.

anyway, what else can i blather about?
i ran a whole quarter of a mile last night. i almost died.

i'm at work right now and there's nothing to do, so the result is this too-long blog. but at least i have interesting things to talk about.

why does Blogspot sound like something dirty?

2009-01-20T18:33:00.000-08:00

hello hello and welcome to my brand new place for my scribblings and stuff. i think we'll get along just fine.

i've tried to start alternate blogs in places other than Myspace and it hasn't really worked out, but i'm determined to make this one work!

so first off, if you have no idea who i am, here's a brief getting-to-know thing:
let's start with basics:
name: Rylee
age: 18
birthday: September 1
eye color: blue
hair color: currently, dark red
height: 5'9"
build: average-curvy
basic interests: writing, music, movies, reading
favorite color: red
occupation: student

and now for the randomness, which i believe answers more important questions:

Which letter of the alphabet do you hate the most?
G. something about G just strikes me as being a real dick.

What would you do with your time if you were the last person left on earth?
drive around the city in various cars that i had always wanted to drive, walk around outside naked, paint on things, climb on things. probably hump a statue at some point (what? i'm being honest. like you wouldn't be tempted.)

What would people think if they could hear your thoughts?
probably just "...What?"

What is the weirdest dream you have ever dreamt?
now that you've asked me, i can't think of it. rest assured it was weird though.

Do you ever talk to inanimate objects?
yes, usually screaming at them

What is your favorite inanimate object to talk to?
my laptop Ruby, since she's such a bitch and provokes me constantly.

How many hats do you own?
5, all of which i love but hardly ever wear.

Have you ever moved to a different state?
yes, when i was five we moved from California to Georgia...yeah.

Have you ever worried about something so much it made you sick?
always

Which actor/actress do you admire the most?
Winona Ryder. i'm have a huge, throbbing gay crush on her, no matter how crazy she gets.

Which person close to you do you admire the most?
it's a tie between my friend Sarah R. because she's crazy and awesome and weird like me only cooler, and my friend Tom, because he's British and delightful.

Do spelling mistakes irk you?
to a murderous point. i'm a walking spell check.

If you had to choose: would you rather have constipation or diarrhea?
diarrhea, since there is some form of relief involved.

Do you like wearing socks?
if they're fun socks.

however you were led here, i hope you stick around for a little while. i'll make it worth your while (and by that, i totally mean throwing out handjobs like free sample of lunch meat.)