Stinky Poo Feeling; Go Away!

I feel like poo! I think it was terrible the way the transaction went down today. But I refuse to apologize for other people because of my own grief with/due to them. I will attempt to rectify the situation. However, the only way I can foresee that happening in any way; will be for me to make sure that it be impossible for it to happen that way ever again. I don't like feeling like poo. It feels dirty.

Forget Action; Cut It Out!

Some movies merit the title; Worst Movie Ever... A new one to be deemed as such is: Vampire High. I'm pretty sure there wasn't a real story there. And I'm positive there was no real conflict/resolution going on... Everyone pretty much floated without development or explanation. That, and the filming was bad too. The scenes where broken up as if it were made for tv, but without a consistency to it in timing or progression. Blah.

Some of the other films that go on this list from recent watchings are; Fly Me To The Moon, and Ballet Shoes.

I was able to get that sweater dress. Makes me happy. I got 2 sweater dresses, 2 pair of leggings, and a cardigan yesterday, all for under $24. Not Bad! Now I just need shoes... Well not Just, I also need some other things. Then I'll be set as far as work clothes go... Etc. etc. etc. Thanks for stopping by.

If I have to be a girl; I think I'm going to be sick.

So, I've made another discovery about myself. Most of my discoveries have to do with theories and probabilities and the deduction of factors through the use of the process of illumination and common sense. This one has to do with previous experiences that had to do with prior illnesses and or physical ailments. I have linked a hormone balance with my ability to consume alcohol. When I'm being more of a girl... as I should be. My tolerance for alcohol consumption goes down considerably. But I can drink lots of people under the table when my hormones are swung in the other direction. So; due to stress and being allowed to act like a normal girl or not; My ability to drink certain amounts and come out of it with(out) an hangover can vary. With lower 'stress' and a 'higher' factor of being a 'normal' girl; my tolerance of Alcohol goes down and my hangover probability goes up. With a higher 'stress' level and acting less like a 'normal' girl; I can keep up with the guys and be fine. This is purely conjecture and is definitely not scientific or completely thought out.

On another note. I do believe I'm making a little bit of progress in learning html. See; Back at the beginning of this (at the On another note) I made a new paragraph. YaY!

I'm not sure where I was going next. Huh. I want a black sweater dress. And if I acquire a black sweater dress, depending on the specific style,, I will also need an under shirt (turtle neck) and leggings (or opaque tights). I'd also need shoes to accompany this grouping. I should have these things anyway though... I'll shut up now.

Seeing Red Again

I am just like Claire. But more on that later. Have you ever had a DVD just stop working on you? Have you ever been so far into the movie that it's aggravating? To say the least. With Four Chapters Left! And there is no other copy of this film in the State as far as I can find out. It's been good. Though I want to know what happens; Because I draw similarities between it and my own life partially. Stupid Girl! I guess I could just try and think on something else then. Like: When do I have another audition and what's it for? Perhaps I'll just give up. I don't know about theater. I was never told; and am obviously inexperienced so therefore will not warrant the ability or chance to experience. Oh yes, and my Laptop (not this desktop) is not connected to the Internet anymore; and my itunes has decided to stop working because my quicktime got all cajunktified. Sweet! cajunktified must be a word. There's no red line beneath it. I want to dance again. Yup! And I've decided that I can wear all black most of the time. No matter how brooding it may seem, Black is never out of style. And I can always liven it up with splashes of color. I'm also planning to travel lightly; so having only one major color to pack makes coordinating a bit easier; and I won't need to pack so much. Maybe I can find the film out there when I'm there. That's a long while to wait. And I'm not sure Buzzy will want to watch with me. Maybe Leaf will. hmmmm... I'll have to find out then. I still need the tickets (round trip this time) and to take off of work. 'tis I the keeper of the panties; requesting leave to have her braces adjusted.

I'm so Blue-hu-hu blue-hu-hu blue-hu-hu-hoo, I'm so blue I don't know what to do.

I hate myself for loving you. It's not exactly you though. I Hate the snow. I like rain. I am bitchy when it's dreary out when I wake up. Today it snowed a thousand feet, and was cold to boot. I cleaned off the car so that I might be able to drive it as something other than a snow cave. My fingers were so cold and numb. I couldn't feel the keys and things in my pocket, and only was able to find them after three tries due to visual recognition. Nix touch. I'm so bloody 'depressed' now. Also, I have all the symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Including the rare cased opposing extreme of the opposing seasons. That whole unexplained energy thing I have is generally only apparent in summer, and on sunny or happy days. I hate being void. I can put on a good face for most instances. but not so much in my own home. I apologize for that. There is no real excuse. Blah! I guess I'll just sit here dressed like a giant blueberry, with boned cold fingers, and I'll just munch on things until this does pass. Or I have to do something else. I need a friend.

You will not know but all that you do know.

My mouth tastes funny. And I keep smelling an odd smell. Like moldy dairy. But it's so fleeting that I can't be sure. My mouth tastes funny because I just ate ramen. Who'd a thunk that I would have to make myself a liar so soon. Nothing ever goes according to planned. Not that what has turned out is at all bad. It just makes me seem the flaky sort. A sort that I am not; and in all respects attempt not to be. I try to never give my word or make a promise unless it's intended to be kept. How was I to know I would come into a job and that that work would disrupt my plans which were previously being made. Nothing had been set in stone, but that does not subtract from the fact that words were spoken and I have now disappointed myself to thinking that I have not been able to keep my word. This is why I like to have specific plans and I'm always trying to figure out the specifics of what's going on as soon as possible. So that I might not be the one to have to go back on my word due to other's agendas. Now; I do hope that Shakespeare will be able to work with me, and I with it. And Dr. Wylan will not get in the way of it or Calvin. I should like to know about that before I go on Sunday to Shakespeare. Just in case I do get it. Then I will be able to provide information and not merely conjecture on the subject of my departure and return.

A New Wave in the Strain of Empty Promises

So, our new thing is this road trip. I've mapped out a general course already. And created a map with the initial key locations all pinpointed at Google maps tittled; Road Trip Spring/Summer '09. There are of course factors that will play into this being a true Empty Promise Production. Like communication, accommodations, financing, and bookings. Plus the fact that I've been known to get motion sickness when either reading or writing while in motion. This includes; Cars, Trucks, Planes, Boats, and I'm sure will include Motor Homes. So I'm also out of a way to pass the time. It's an extensive trip thus far. With 33 key stops already pinpointed. And ventures North, South, Coast to Coast, through Mountains, flat lands, desert, and forested areas, and even ventures into Canada. We couldn't get Alaska to pan into the plans without being completely too far out of the way, and back tracking. Plus there's also to braces thing to consider. Maybe I should just have them off early. Financially that doesn't make complete sense though.

Van*Pyre*Mansion

I'm pretty sure I've decided now; I do want to write a story involving the Vampire Mansion. I am quite certain that any events involving this building in real life will now never come to pass. But my mind's already spun in that direction. This is not new. I've been thinking in this way for some time. I've also written out some thoughts on the topic (as well as have sketched up some visuals). This is what I'd written: -How about a story about a girl that leaves you unfulfilled? You love it, but you're left unfulfilled (for lack of a better word.) What happens to leave you unfulfilled? - She creates her own world. A believable world, and lives in it. An imagination sanctuary. What's the conflict? Who's the Antagonist? Who is the girl? ->The Vampire Mansion is bought. The girl goes there 1st, & for a time is alone there. Given over to make of it what she will in solitude. Selecting a single room and utilizing some of the other spaces in her private seclusion. She ventures into town, but mostly keeps to herself. Can you know what/how she's thinking? left to her own devices she's free to dance the halls and has gala's w/ her imagination. Do other characters come into the story from here? Are we able to see her back story? is the foundation on that? what does the secluded scholar do/learn/accomplish? -Who is she? -If she arrives at the end of winter, and it goes into summer, we could see her hair grow (poof) as the time progresses as the solitude wages on her sanity. (very The Shining :(...) A progress into a different speech pattern, more correct English would also come w/ the solitude. - Obviously it needs to be developed further in words. There's also more going on in the story in my head that's not been put down in concrete yet. And a Lot of it still needs changing around. Plus it's still lacking a specific plot and all the other factors that play into a story.

I was your fire, But she was gasoline.

I wanted to write out the dream I had last night. For it was the most vivid dream that I'd had in a long time. Instead of writing it here though, I only wrote it in my notebook. There it will stay; to be pondered and molded into something good. Either way, it ended in the most depressing way, as far as any 'chick flick' storyline goes. I wonder if I cried in my sleep while I cried in the dream. I wonder if that feeling of emptiness, which I've felt few times before in reality, can ever truly come to pass again. Even with my resolve, I suppose I am susceptible to such mistakes as this. After all; I am a girl. And in my dream, no matter how much he wanted to choose me, no matter the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice, the gait of his walk, the meaning of his words. He still left with her. He still always chooses her. She is the one that wins. Though, I wasn't trying to fight this battle. I still loose. When I didn't even attempt to win this war, why does defeat still hurt this hard?

You Don't Have to Take My Words For It...

Have you ever felt totally and completely alone? It's not exactly a fun thing. And when I say totally and completely, I don't mean as in the sense I've been trapped on a desert island without even wildlife to keep me on my toes, nor do I mean have I been locked in an asylum, and had the key thrown away, left to wither and die. I mean; Being forgotten by people in a sense that they choose to not acknowledge you anymore. Not that I suppose it out of malicious intent. I just suppose that it's due to being forgettable. Or maybe it is malicious, and deliberate. Either way; when the fact that no one is remembering you is reinforced by those very persons so nonchalantly that they may not notice their for instances. Dude! I need to sleep. Screw human interaction. Who needs human interaction when you've got the Internet, music, a notebook with pen/pencil and eraser, and a stack of books and movies from your local library.

Perturbing Impertinance

I am so upset. No that's not the right word. Perturbed? Not really. Larry asked me a very pertinent question today... Well, let me start from the beginning of this story; Have you seen that H&R Block commercial? The one with the Grim Reaper? Well, at the end of it, before it goes to the H&R Block logo and whatnot, Grim says to the agent guy; "See you in 38 days." That means that this Tax man has only 38 days left to live. This of course made me think out loud my thoughts on the matter. (I merely stated "That sucks, that guy only has 38 days left to live." or something very close to that.) Larry then told me what she'd do with her final 38 days in a very loose description. But of course that led me to think... If I only had 38 days left to live, and I was certain of the time, what would I do? And instantly; I knew what I would want to attain in those last days. But I couldn't cling to that thought. Damn myself to Hell! Yes, that'll go over well. But in that instant I knew exactly what I wanted. First thing without having to think about it. I knew. I had; after that moment of horrid realization, tried to think about what I should want to do in my last 38 days, to get the most out of it. But I won't tell you what I've come up with. I do not have only 38 days, that I know of, I have much longer. And feelings are fleeting. I have the time to change me still; and my instantaneous reactions won't always remain the same. I wonder... What would you do if you KNEW you only had 38 days left to live.

Another Blah blah blah about blah blah blah

And so I have returned. It's still cold here. Though yesterday and today don't want me to believe it. It was 50degrees yesterday and is now... 37. But it promises to get colder and either rain or snow tomorrow. I would prefer the rain. It was raining when I left my love, Southern California. But now I'm back. I am thankful it was not as cold when I got in. I didn't have a jacket and Lar did not bring me one. My dad kept mine when he dropped me at the airport. I was also able to walk to the Library in a sweatshirt and my normal clothes. But my black bootie broke, so I had to walk in my rancher's rain boots. They aren't actually rain boots though, and I should remind myself of that. "Do Not walk through large puddles! Rancher's Rain boots are not waterproof!" they're suede. Needless to say because of all the water and melted snow My feet were soaked. While I was gone though, I was able to deduce somethings about my own likes/dislikes/ and feelings. I love the rain. I like to walk to the park and read. I like the sun, but not affecting my skin. Spring is my favorite. I still don't like to be wet, save for choosing the rain. I savor solitude. I adore being with real friends. I like proper English. And will probably go out of my way to satisfy the wrong people when I think it's what they want, even if it's never been told me. Perhaps I didn't get as much sleep as I should have, I'm trailing off again with no specific train of thought. I'm in need of trimming my nails, they too long to type at ease now, my fingertips are coming down at a very elongated angle.

Though the sun shone, She only saw the rain.

"Did you know I was a dancer before all this?" she paused. "Did you also know it was the first thing I told myself I couldn't regret?... Though, to my everlasting shame, I, on some level do." She spoke staring out the window, with longing in her eyes. "This life of mine, so far, has amounted to few regrets. Each of them greater than I thought possible. But giving up dance..." She spoke at the room now, though Amber was the only other person in it. "That is my greatest loss in life. The one thing That I wish someone who knew; would have stopped me from. All my other regrets I must bear on my own. For I was the only one in those secrets. But dance was my TRUE love, my true joy. And now; will always be my true pain to think of." She turned back to the window. A single tear ran down her cheek slowly. "It's not too late, is it?" Amber asked from behind her. Vanessa turned toward her friend and showed a light of wondering in her eyes, and raised her brow. "I mean, you are still rather young..." Amber came across the room towards her. "I guess it's not possible that you could become any great master now, but you could still take it up again. Couldn't you?" Vanessa had turned back towards the window, seeming to consider the provocation of this. "You mean; take it up as say, exercise or for leisure?" Though it was more of a statement than a question. "I suppose. Yes." "No doubt I've thought of that. But a few of the factors which played in when I initially gave it up still hold true today. I haven't the means to do it. Sure I've got the drive, but not the money to take a class, my age doesn't really merit that anyway. A private tutor would be completely out of the question as far as finding the finances and I haven't got the space." She'd turned from the window and walked towards the sofa. She stood there a while fidgeting and finally turned back to the window. Amber just listened to her in silence. When she finally spoke, her voice was quite and defeated. "You've covered all of the angles then, have you... given up completely?" "What else is there to do?" She sat on the sill now. "You could take more proactive measures. Isn't it you who're so in love with your library and all of those ways you can find your own knowledge and teach yourself? Now, I don't know about specific spaces and all that, but don't you think you should try a little harder?" Amber was obviously mad. But it seemed it could hardly be due to this context of which they now spoke. "I'm sorry, but you've resigned yourself to this regret too easily. If it bugs you so much; get off your ass and do something about it. I don't know specifically, about what else you speak, but you can't just sit around and wallow in your regret. If it truly bugs you that much, do something about it!" She paused to catch her breath and calm herself. "Now look what you've done." She added in a more playful tone. "You've gone and made me start repeating myself." She attempted a smile at Vanessa, who now looked at her hard. "It's true what you say. I shouldn't 'wallow' as you kindly put it, in my regrets and miseries. But some things you just can't change." She got up from the sill and slowly moved across the floor in the direction of the door then faltered halfway there. "I guess that's why I had decided I wouldn't regret anything. Thought it'd be easier... It wasn't, I just made stupid decisions and hated myself without saying I'd wish I could take it back." She continued forward again. "My you talk like someone well beyond your years. One might think you'd already lived your entire life." Vanessa stopped and turned in the doorway. "Well, 21 was a very eventful year." She smiled and left the room. Amber sighed, then turned on her heels and went out the opposing door.

An Hour for An Happiness.

I suppose each individual one can charge whatever they want. How come; it was 75cents for several days of one, and now it's $2 for the second day of another? that makes no sense. At all! Oh well... Here's an extended scene for you. I don't much like it; but it is what it is right now.

-

"Everyone knows. How can you not know? Everyone knew before even me! My dad knew before I did. Reginald had to tell me. That's how I know. My grandmother even knew before I'd admit to it." She finished this off and just stared at him incredulously.

"You admit it?" he seemed at a loss for words. Like he was struggling to formulate his own thoughts. Or maybe he truly didn't understand what she was saying. she couldn't read his body language any longer, and was in such a state as to believe he'd not even heard her. "Admit what?" he finally continued. This let her know that she wasn't the last one to know her own secret. Which was little consolation. But if he didn't already know it... She struggled with weather or not to tell him at this point. If she did; she was at a loss for words.

He still stared at her in a questioning disbelief. She thought the words so strenuously, but finally faltered altogether. She dropped her arms and hung her head in defeat to it. She resigned herself to her fate. She must say it out loud, in plain words, or he would obviously never know.

"That you're hopelessly in love with me." he said this with a sarcastic air. The words he uttered, though true in content, where purely said as a joke to ease the tension of the moment. "Yes, I know." he continued in his way, "I do have that effect on people." He obviously was going to be done with this topic and move on shortly. " They just can't get enough of me. -- Yep!" she could only roll her eyes and sigh, as they looked away from each other. Him for his entertainment, her for her shame. The subject was now dropped. Her moment for truth was gone forever.

-

And another thing... I think it's odd (proper but odd) that it should be an happiness, or an house, or an hippopotamus. I do understand the use of an. But occasionally it seems out of place when heard together. However it does sound right when it's an hour.

The reason we're freezing is a lack of gumption?

After a long awaited... 2, 3? weeks, I hope to be going "home" on Thursday next. It's odd to say home about a place where I have nothing but stuff, and a computer. A place where I sit in frozen seclusion, until someone else chooses that I should do something other than just that. A place that I detest due to the constancy of the climate in both high seasons. A place where I have absolutely no friends that I can call my OWN (who at least have the time to acknowledge me. Yes, I understand Cho.) This train of thought causes me to think of my exact reasons for going there at all. What are they? I am supposed to have work; but I don't get paid. I am supposed to be working on an album; but I am at my fathers disposal of time for that one, and has thus far, not happened. There's got to be a good reason. In the beginning, I was only going until I was finished with my portfolio, and had applied to grad school. I've done that now. Why do I not choose to come back. For the promise of work? For the constant consistency of seclusion? If I am able to anticipate that, it subtracts disappointment. But do I really desire it? No. I suppose it's as I stated in my short bio thingy. I choose to run away from what is either good for my, or comfortable. I do this, I think, to keep it from changing on myself without my personal permission. I jump the gun on it. I take the opportunity away from others to let me down. I let myself down instead and early. that's just crazy. I must have mush for a brain. Stupid Girl!

Writing out a story about someone else.

Woe it is to be like me. I'm not quite sure (yet again...) what I am in want of, as far as this stupid boy anymore. Or for anything for that matter. I do know that the scenarios that play out in my head, can never come to pass. That it's not even truly 'we' who are in them. It's two other players, in similar circumstances who have traits, wants, needs, and desires different from our own. Here I go blah-di-blahing again. Let me move on.

I love it when the sun is shining. It makes me happy. But I also am in love with the rain. Actually, if you get solidly down to it; I'm in love with the weather when it's starting to not rain, and the sun is attempting to break through the clouds. The peace of it is tranquil, and at the same time invigorating. So, my favorite thing to do in the rain, is to walk about in it until it's lightens to a brief sunshine. Then I'll just bask in the glory of what is surely to be called a beautiful day. And now; I leave you with another scene... But not really a scene so much as... well; you'll see.

-

I don't rightly recall what it is that I was thinking at him. all I know is that I was, in fact, thinking at him. thinking of things that I wanted to, but couldn't/wouldn't, say. Of the remarks to those, I knew he'd never make. So we rode on saying nothing, and the silence ensued.

I wondered vainly ' Was it about our previous, last encounter? Did it concern the way I left him? Was it in reference to our manners with each other in different settings? Was it simply thinking a way of telling that I love him?'