Everything Neglected

As I sat in front of my full length mirror, picking through the rat's nests in my wet, long and desperately neglected hair, I began to reflect on last summer. I think about last summer quite often, daily, but it's rare that I sit and reflect on it.
Songs like Father Said - Sonny Moore, True Affection - The Blows, but most strikingly Clementine by Sarah Jaffe helped aid my journey through the darker and grimier corners of the summer. Not the stuff that happened, the people the died, the friends that left. But how I reacted to these things. Sure these things were pretty life changing, relatively monumental, sort of Earth shattering. But you know this. I've already told you, mostly. I've even told you how I felt about those events. But now that a little time has gone by, I've got some aftermath to share. Some 'Since you were gone'. Some 'After the show.'

In the months since my grandmother's died I've vascilated from using it to better help me understand people and to separate me from them. On the one hand, I can understand loss better. I've never lost a sibling or a parent or a child, but I have lost a dearly loved one, and that's saying something. It makes relating to people easier. Loss is felt and experienced by everyone at one point or another. A pet, a family member, your favorite piece of jewelry, the family recipe box. What ever the degree, chances are you've felt loss. Well now, I can understand where you're coming from better, because so have I. It's brought me a little closer to human beings in general, in a way I just was incapable of doing before. But now I can and it makes me feel a little more human. On the other hand, it's separated me a little bit. I'll have to get back with you on how exactly.

Since the Eric Apocolypse I've grown to understand myself more. And I've reacted by changing the things that made the end of that relationship such a train wreck. I'm like a good captain of a rickety ship. I'm my own first mate too. And together, with myself, we do our best to whip the (relation)ship in to shape at any cost. Whether it's unhealthy, painful, dangerous, hazardous, tortuous, costly, taxing, grueling, repetitive, there we are, myself and me, toiling away. Scrubbing the deck in a hail storm, repairing the sails afterward, etc. You get the idea. Basically I do whatever is necessary, when no one else is, to make sure the ship sails smoothly for as long as possible. I take lip from the crew, I wait around for them when they're late, I believe them when they lie, make excuses when they screw up. Don't even get me started on the galley! Then, when I thought I'd patched up all the holes, pumped all the water, cleaned all the quarters and peeled all the potatoes, the ship sinks and true to Captain Ashley form, I go down with it. With a smile! And an assurance to the crew that it's okay, that they did their best too, and that I'll be fine alone at the bottom of the ocean. Needless to say, there's no more of that. I'm in a relationship with Aaron, a friend from high school who stuck with me through the Death, Dude and Depression Debaucle (to be discussed next), and I'm proud to say I haven't been Captain and crew. I haven't needed to be, but there are some things that Eric and I's relatinonship helped me to see were unacceptable, and I haven't settled. I didn't settle when it came to the man, so why would I settle for what we have to offer each other?

After the Death, Dude and Depression Debaucle I've seen a new low for myself, and I've reacted by doing my best to remedy that. And to keep it from NEVER happening again! It was the last week of summer. Summer school had ended and the fall semester was about to begin. The number of people who'd died had steadily climbed over the weeks, and my ability to adequately deal with them had withered like a sundried tomato. I was a wreck, a loose tooth that was clinging to the bloody gums with one last root. Then Dude... Jacob, my best friend who'd stayed up late with me, put up with me, listened to me related to me and was just generally there when I didn't want to be/couldn't be alone. I, being in the 'Reflection on My Reaction', see now that I was searching for something, ANYTHING, to latch on to. I might as well have closed my eyes, spun in a circle and pointed. Too bad for Jacob, I landed on him. I really did feel like he was my best friend. He was the closest thing I had to an anchor. I built every chain link, pain stakingly, and gathered it up, and carried it to him, and latched him up. Big ol' pad lock. Bless his unaware heart. But he stuck it out like a champ until, i'm assuming, he could take no more. It's like when you stub your toe, and you know it's gonna be really bad. You feel it hurt right away, but you're terrified of actually looking at it because you know it's going to be all bloody and bent at some grotesque angle, increasing the distress. When he walked out the door, I knew it was gonna be bad, but I didn't know just how painful until I took the time to look at the situation. Which took me a night of Mexican Martinis and screaming at my girls about how I need my key back from him or the world will collapse into itself. Jacob helped teach me not to put such a burden on people. Even if I need it, they don't need that head ache. And for whatever reason, they WILL find a reason to bail, because it's not their job to stay! I learned not to find an anchor, but to be my own. And that's how it's been ever since, and it's been great.

Before that, or maybe after, or possibly during? I went to Rachel Rehabilitation. One of my closest friends, my girlfriend, my dearly beloved, we were growing apart. I could feel it happening while it was going on, but I didn't know what was actually going on. Until things started piling up, and getting bigger, and feelings got more hurt, until it all exploded like an over full water balloon. And until then I didn't understand how much I loved her, and desperately wanted her around for the positive and uplifting she brought to my life. Thankfully, Rachel Rehab ended, and I fell right back off that wagon. Between her's and Katie's apartments, I've found my only places in Austin where I feel like I'm safe. From all the awful Austin has had to offer me. They form some sort of crazy barrier over me, like they're shepherding me through my remaining time here. I couldn't be more thankful. I've learned to not wait until you're without someone to realize how much you need them. Cliche? little bit. Too old to just now be learning it? possibly. But I finally did. My one regret is that it had to be with Rachel, and not someone more deserving of my mistreatment.

If you read that whole blog, you're a saint and I owe you 5$. But i'll quiz you first so don't try and pilfer my money! ;-)

Before You Go

Le sigh. So much happens in a very short amount of time these days... It's like the world is one of those playground merry-go-rounds on steroids and with every turn the scene becomes more unrecognizable from the one before. Not necessarily in a bad way, although when its going that fast bad things are bound to sneak up on you. Things are just changing, and it's a little hard to keep up sometimes. It's also a little hard to focus but I have a feeling my focus will be re aligned very soon.

I'm seeing a little bit of a clearer career path for myself. When I was a lot younger I wanted to be a teacher, but it's not exactly a lucrative job and it didn't offer all of the fame and fortune I was looking for. So becoming a psychologist or a counselor with my own little practice seemed more my style. But lately I've swung back around to the teaching idea. Or atleast working at a school, preferably high school level. I'd really like it and I feel like it would bring me lots of joy. At the very least it would be rewarding and exciting. Never a dull moment I would hope.

Then maybe slowly get a masters and do different things from then on. Who knows? My life could take a few turns but I'm excited to have a little bit more of a direction. something more specific to work toward. We shall see, we shall see. I've got a lot of time to figure it out as long as I don't squander my time and laze about.

Forget the shirt off my back, I'll give you the skin

I desperately need to stop hanging myself for these people. Every time I feel like I don't have anything left, I scrape some more effort together and do my best to make people happy and give them what they need. And I'll be damned if it doesn't fail, if I don't fail, every time.

It's funny how important people become in your life. Maybe they help you through a tough time, or ya'll just really get along, or you once bonded over a mutual hatred of snail slime trails. Whatever the case, you looked up at some point and the realization hit you; this person is important. They're great! They're exactly what you need right now and somehow you're exactly what they need! This mutual respect and affection grows and you've got a friend. A real friend that you can call your friend in the good and the bad times. Whatever the qualities that you look for in a real and honest friend, this person has it. It's exciting! It feels great to be understood and accepted for who you are. We all know this feeling and personally, I love it. It doesnt happen all that often.

But that part where you look up and realize they're important, that's your first mistake. And it'll only go downhill from there. It's your own fault for putting someone on such a high pedestal and they cant be expected to maintain it. You've set them up for failure and make no mistake, they will fail. The question is only, how hard with they fail? and will they take you down with them.

I feel like puking.
I drank a lot of tequila last night...
This is an option for why.

The power of the relationship always lies with the one who cares the least. This is true of any type of relationship. Friendship, romantic relationship, physical relationship. So it doesn't matter if you see them as important, appreciate them for who they are, and do everything in your immediate power to make their life less stressful. Sometimes something just clicks in their head and maybe they just don't care like they used to. And it's no longer mutual, which means you no longer grow, which means shit HITS the fan and everything ends just as fast as it began.

When you get your heart broken by a lover, it's excruciating I'm sure. I don't presume to know how it feels because I'm sure there's a hundred other people out there who have loved much harder than I have. But when you have your heart broken by a friend, it's this indescribable (although I'm obviously gearing up to describe it) feeling... It's a mix between a dull and a sharp throbbing right where your chest plate splits down to your ribs. You know where they tell you to punch an attacker? It's like an ice pick, alternating between the sharp side and the dull handle is just shoved in there.

Every Selfless, thoughtful, giving person needs to be selfish every once in a while. And maybe this was his, and that's fine because I know how much effort he puts toward everyone else in his life and never toward himself. And the most genuine and heartfelt apologies help. But it doesn't make this pressure go away. It helps! I'm not ungrateful for the apology or the explanation. But it hurts more than anything has hurt in a long time.


I can handle a lot of shit. I have handled a lot of shit. I can't handle this.

you cant force someone to care

A cup of tea to end the day

Before You Go by Sarah Jaffe on repeat for about 10 minutes really get's the thoughts running wild. So much has happened... But all I can afford to care about is the here and the now.

I laid in bed and listened to the song, thinking pointedly of something else, when my grandmother crossed my mind. The meaning of the song had meant something entirely different to me until then. Now I'm not going to lie, I did my fair share of mourning, or crying, whichever you'd like to call it. But I'm not going to make this a very sad entry about very sad things. More just about fact, my very favorite thing in the entire world. Next to logic and reason, of course.

I inherited some jewelry from my grandmother. And some tea. For those of you NOT from Houston, there's an incredible tea shop in the mall called Teavana. Well my dad had bought his mom a gift set FULL of exquisite teas. They're tightly wound tea leaves that form a ball. And when you put them in hot water, they bloom! Like flowers! It's really very fun to watch.

So, I was laying in bed, hating various islands in the Pacific Ocean and feeling very, very sorry for myself. When I sat bolt upright! It was time to take the tea I had gotten from my grandmother's house out of my car. Where it has sat since before the funeral.

So I picked out some earrings, ran down and got the tea, and made some for the first time. It was absolutely delicious. It tasted like a strawberry doughnut! Hekili even sat at the table and watched me, though tearfully, enjoy a cup of my grandmother's tea. It was incredibly enjoyable and it seemed to warm up my insides a little. Which kind of brought my attention to how chilly they've been feeling lately...


I'm not known for my emotional warmth, lets put it that way. I'm very caring, I have a big heart and I'm good at comforting people. Buuuut, I have a pain threshold that's higher than my ooey gooey threshold. And I'm fine with it. I'm happy with the way that I am in that arena, truly. But it makes me think a little.... has it gotten in the way of things I might otherwise have had? Or made things, however brief, more meaningful if I'd just hugged more? or been more 'emotionally available'? (for the record, i just had a visible shiver.)

Maybe not so much available. but less abrasive maybe. I come off as abrasive a lot. Maybe if I were better at words dealing with things other than fact. I like proving things, and I like it when things are proved to me. Those things are nice, and safe, and easily worked with. Shit like emotions, I don't have much time for but really it's just because I can't back it up with some sort of equation or series of events. There's no book that says, without question, 'when he does this, it most certainly means this'. no such thing. so I have no desire to really enter much in to that area. Mostly because i don't like things i'm not good at. I like things i am good at. so i stick the basics.

I say what i mean, i mean what i say. I take pleasure in the little things, and inadvertently over look the sometimes more important things. Like showing affection in public. My definition of affection, the older i get, is just starkly different than it seems like everyone elses.


I should not be allowed outside of the house. And I should never be allowed back into Clear Lake.

Why do I do this?

I've always considered myself a very logical person. Grounded. All of that good stuff. But when I need to fool myself into a get away in LaLa Land for one reason or another, I'm an expert.

I can build get away's for people and myself better than anyone else. There are a few people who can attest to that because of the past few weeks.


The night my grandmother died, actually just minutes after I got off the phone with my dad, I saw a sentence that said 'Trade up'. I was told it had nothing to do with me. I just got a twitter account, which I quickly extinguished, and was trying to find the people that I love. I found a friend's account, and it yielded some information that had to with the brief sentence mentioned before.

This is why fooling yourself in to wandering around in some sort of alternate life is a bad idea. It may seem like a good idea at the time. It may be easier or make things easier to cope with. But in the end, when it all kind of dissapates, all you're left with is what you started with weeks or even months ago. Only things that are left alone rot. From the inside out. So the shit that you started with, the shit that made you pretend that everything is alright, is not only still shit, it's rotted, peutrified, unimaginable shit. And it has all come down on your head.

My first instinct is to protect. Whether it's myself or those I love, I need to know that those I love are protected and safe. From people, emotions, life, death and anything else in my path. I have bent over backwards to make sure that happens. I have spread myself more thin in the last month and a half, since Easter morning at 12:30, than I have my entire life. I have put my comfort on the back burner to ensure that those who are suffering more than I am have someone to lean on and go to. Including family and friends, I have dedicated waking hours to stabilizing situations. I have lost sleep, I have lost peace. I have followed the Golden Rule to the LETTER and I have done it without complaint. I have been told that it's not fair, I have been told to go home, to take care of myself and I haven't. I've put life and relationships on hold and I wouldn't change any of it. Knowing what I know now, I would not do one thing different. But I cannot fool myself anymore.

I have reached my limit and I refuse to continue to knowingly keep myself in this fantasy limbo where there's one too many people that always seems to be a day away from being dealt with.

My love is unconditional and steadfast. It's selfless in times of need. It's warm and forgiving. It's very foolish and naive. I have proven all of these things, in that I am confident. But I will not continue to live in this very comfortable, very exciting, very beautiful but very fake world that I've spent the last month patching together with the scraps I was left with months ago. I still have scraps. I still have shit. Only now the shit has festered, and now it's come down on my head. So along with my grieving, my broken heart, my personal pain, I have a pile of shit I need to clean up.

That'll teach me to escape. From now on, I will try my very hardest to deal with things on a more practical level. And not take the easy way. Yet again, my logical side has proven to be the correct side. For this I am thankful, and my anger has dissapated after writing this. Thank God.

Also, I'm getting a kitten today.

Spanglish

I'm watching it.

In the past week, my life has been turned upside down. My world stopped spinning while every one elses kept going. Death doesn't make anything stop. Bills are still due, the car still needs gas, the dog still needs to be let out. And when the plants and the flowers and the cards start pouring in from all angles, you no longer have a place to eat because everything covers the table and counters. Nobody acts normal. There are people hangin around and bringing food. Going to sleep seems easy after the day, staying asleep is extremely difficult but waking up is the hardest. Once everything is remembered, getting back to sleep is impossible. Thankfully the rest of the house is in the same boat, so the 4 am body wake up call has eased it's way through the halls, down the stairs, under the door and into the brains of my parents. Then it waits in the closets and under the beds until 3-4 am when it can ooze it's way back through my house. I can see it in the carpets. I can see it in the corners of the window sills. Just waiting. Always waiting to wake us up and bring the news, fresh and new.

Locking one's door is extremely cathartic. As though you're locking yourself in as opposed to locking everything else out. You can invite anyone or anything in you want, but NOTHING can get in that YOU didn't invite. It's wonderful. A total powertrip! This past week I locked out sobriety, incidently locking in extreme intoxication. I was sincerely surprised at how much alcohol I could consume and still be awake.

I searched for comfort unabashedly. I saw my friends and went to my old work. I talked constantly and then didn't talk at all. I was on my phone every waking hour looking for some sort of normalcy. Something that would take me back to just a week pryor. Just a day before Easter. I searched for it in the wrong person, though. I made a mistake and I paid for it.

Never search for love and understanding from a selfish and ignorant child. You'll be left emptier and more alone than you've ever felt. No matter how much they believed they loved you. They were wrong. And they will show it.

The deepness of your sorrow for the loss of a loved one will stretch further than you thought it could. You will stare at the vastness of what lies before you and weep. You will carry the weight of yours and your families sorrows on your shoulders and look for more sorrows to gather atop them. Your pain will work its way from your heart to your lungs, to your ribs. You'll feel it creep to you thighs and shins, down further and further until it spreads through your toes. You'll feel is climb up your chest and wrap itself around your neck to your face. You'll watch it wind it's way around your shoulders, then elbows, then twist down your fingers. When you seek comfort in those unable to provide even the slightest bit of ease, your soul will quake. The very foundations upon which you have built your feeble house of safety will crumble and you will find yourself worse off than when you started. When the purest of needs for comfort is rejected, the purest of agonies will sieze your spirit and strangle the little vitality that is left after the death of a cherished one. You will gasp. You will cry. And when you desire nothing else but to forget, you will remember.

But when you seek comfort from those who are both physically and emotionally able to provide, it will stamp out the agony. It's light will blind the pain into submission and your foundation can be rebuilt, slowly.

Darkness is simply the absence of light. And the light was shown on me by Allan who put aside his pain to tend to and garden mine. Emily, who gathered me in her arms and the arms of her mother and squashed the darkness. Katie, who checked on me daily. Rachel, who listened to me cry and was there from the 11th hour. Cristal, who somehow has shown me such unconditional love, it's blinding. and Kelly, who came to my rescue when it was critical.

My foundation is rebuilt. My house of safety is no longer feeble. And the long journey of mourning has begun.

It's like someone just threw open the heavy drapes on the dusty windows of my soul

Or something equally as dramatic.

So in the past few days I've been systematically informed that I exhibit signs of ADD or ADHD. This seemed silly to me since no one had ever mentioned it to me before. I was just sloppy and a procrastinator and a day dreamer.

PLEASE GOD TELL ME I'M WRONG

I've talked to a few adult ADD sufferers (one of which was the one that said 'Oh yeah! that's how they diagnosed me' when I told him about a particular symptom) and things slowly started lining up and falling in to place. I slowly started fitting pieces together like a puzzle, and filled in the gaps that I thought were just personal failures. That I was TOLD were personal failures.

I went to the internet, like any self respecting hypochandriac, and started chasing rabbits. One of the first sites I came across listed several different symptoms, including emotional and physical, as well as the disorganization and inability to focus.

If you at all have a weak stomach for unabashed wailings of past pain and emotional turmoil, abort this particular blog now. Go no further. I am about to word vomit onto all of you that continue.


The "Myth and Fact" section alone made me almost tear up. Alot of the thing I've blamed myself for for years were mentioned in the Myth part. Moving on, the next section was inability to focus. A standard, I feel. I ticked off a few of the specific symptoms listed, feeling slightly warm inside. Then all of the sudden I see 'Hyperfocus'. I am excited to see this, as one of the reasons I never considered ADD was because there were times when I almost obsessed about things. This intrigues me and my insides heat up just a scoach more.

Next section, 'disorganization and forgetfulness'. It mentions room and car. A small victory, but it assures me further that I might be on to something here. I then come to the 'Emotional difficulties' section.

Check Check Check Check... I mentally go through every symptom, and here is where the water works really begin. "Low self esteem, sense of underachievement, trouble staying motivated" are only a few of them. I can't believe it, it's all right there. My insides are now scorching hot and I can't believe things can get any better explained for me.

The section on "Untreated ADD" got to me as well, mentioning the strain it can have on relationships with parents...

It really does feel like a huge light has been shed on the things I've been dealing with. Being in college opened my eyes to my inability to focus and I realized a lot of people don't have to work as hard as I have to to stay on task or listen during a lecture. This I blamed on myself, as it has always been blamed on me, and I took it as a personal flaw and tried fruitlessly to fix it.

I'd been talking to my mom about my anxiety and whatnot that was leading to my feelings of helplessness and so forth. ADD shares and coincides with a lot of the things I'd been experiencing. It seems they are not independent of each other, but cause and effect of each other.

I've not been to a Dr. and I've never been tested. But the ball has gotten rolling on that and will be done ASAP. I was in tears reading the site and teared up writing this. I hope and pray that I've now started on a path that will lead me to some sort of answers. The answer may not be ADD, but the hope of finding an answer is there now. And I'm really encouraged and validated by that.

An elephant stuffed animal and Kello Kitty pez does not a child make

After this weekend, I needed desperately to get it (most of it) out on virtual paper. I feel like I need to get a lot better at not caring if I air people's dirty laundry, so to speak, (including my own I guess) because this would be a lot more interesting if that were the case.

Friday: I worked until 5 at my amazing job that I'm absolutely in love with. Then I went home. Worked in the yard and awaited my beloved Sugar Pop's arrival with my new friend. We'll call her Skittles. Because she tastes like the rainbow.
So I go over in my pjs, cause IDGAF, and we of course proceed to ingest copious amounts of alcohol. This is, by enlarge, the theme of the weekend. Awake? Have a drink. (bare with me, this is not a recount of my weekend. I have a point)
So we go to a restaurant and thoroughly enjoy ourselves, the next day I go to a crawfish festival with everyone and absolutely tear that shit up! Run in to a friend from Houston that just moved, catch up there. Of course, drink booze. Come home, go to sleep. Next day is sunday. A day to be celebrated! A day of rest! Mas booze please!

The point I'm making here is, my life is fun. But I've MADE it that way. The way I've done that? Doing my best to balance pleasing myself and others. Because it is a balance. Life is a very crazy balance and I'm trying to feel it out. Between piggy back rides to take shots of mad dog and celebrating Sunday by the pool, I've discovered that life is taken a little too seriously sometimes. I used to take it WAY too seriously. Recently. But through no actions that I am at all aware of, I've suddenly seen the light! I've suddenly realized that if I can go through life without destroying other people too much but just do what I want (sometimes without really thinking), I can probably keep myself happy.

I used to take a lot of shit. I used to make a lot of excuses for the way people treat me. Cheating, lying disrespect, stealing, etc. I was pretty damn good at it too. But then I realized, it doesn't really matter. AIDs epidemic matters. World hunger matters. The crisis in Japan matters. 99% of the stuff that's happened to me just doesn't. And that's not a sad thing, that's just logic. I will die before I become anything but a realist, and that's just plain real. So I need to stop taking things so seriously. As long as I'm not destroying other people, and not letting them destroy me, and I can find that balance, I'm gonna be happy. I'm gonna be able to enjoy my life and live it as a good, strong woman.

Sweet Sweet Summer

My skin is pink and sunkissed. I absolutely love it. I just layed out with my dearest Sugar Pop, one of the nicest girls I know and certainly one of the most fun. Our shenanigans have gotten slightly out of hand lately, what with raves and me being a part of her GoGo Dancing troupe. But with summer bearing down on us and our cruise looming ahead, I feel the hurricane that is Sugar Pop and I will only gain speed and will DESTROY WORLDS.

This brings me to my point. Everybody has their favorite summer (or time, I guess. I won't presume to pigeon hole anyone's favorite memories to summer alone). The smell of chlorine and sweat mixed with tanning lotion. The sun cooking anything and everything, true to Texas form. These are the things I remember as a kid. It's morphed, somewhat, into planning around trips to the Caribbean and class. But my life now is so vastly different from anything I could have ever imagined for myself.

After classes, I have a Mike's Harder and lay by the pool. After work I have a purple margarita and lay by the river. After the week I have a bloody mary and float the river. I pop downtown Austin for a quick drink or dinner. I drive to San Marcos to see a movie. I wander the streets of Austin with Sugar Pop, I go to raves, I get backstage, I get bottle service. I cook dinner for my loved ones, I go home for the holidays. I go to school and work, I call my mom every other day. I go to SXSW, I go to South Padre for Spring Break.

Every day I live my life and I validate myself as a human being. I'm carving out the woman I want to be when I die. I'm enjoying every moment I possibly can because that's what life is. That's what growing up is. And, in case you hadn't noticed, that's what college is! I'm blindingly proud of myself and what I've achieved. My choices and my decisions have brought me to where I am. The people I've brought into my life, the people that have brought me in to theirs.

I am lucky and blessed enough to be extremely happy with my life and what I've made of myself. I hope to God you are too.

Despicable Me

Good movie. Great description. Speaking of which, I should probably start finding clever nicknames for everyone I'm going to talk about. If I wont even publish my real name, it'd be unfair to publish anyone elses, correct? Ugh. This better be as mentally beneficial as everyone assures me.

So I was thinking about what a desperately good person I am when something someone, we'll call him Brody (I never saw it, but apparently everyone else did. I considered Dartanian, but skipped over it. Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies.), said one night. We were talking about exes, since we never gave a shit, and I relayed a story. Something about love and affection and all the things I'm not good at, and how I didn't return it and blah blah. Something strange. And true to Brody form, he spared no time in telling me how awful that was. I think the word 'manipulative' was thrown around. Of course I vehemently deny this, because I'm awesome, but maaayyybe it's true.

I always thought it was just this sort of uncanny ability to get what I want. (Allow me to stop here and assure you, I'm not a bad person. But eh, that's not particularly objective, is it?) But I think it's more so me knowing how to get what I want, and getting it. The most recent example:

So I'm dating boy, we'll call him, Picture Perfect. Why you might ask? Because I saw him in a picture and decided he was perfect and immediately needed him in my life. So.... I got him in my life. You might think this is my example, since I'm talking about getting things I want. But it's not. There's more.
So this extremely attractive person has not only been noticed by yours truly, obviously. So there's this mousy little girl, shall we call her Little Mousey?, with whom he used to talk. Now, Little Mousey is that girl who needs everyone to like her. Boys mostly, as she sneaks her co-workers boyfriend, then cheats on him with two other men (atleast) one being Picture Perfect. It's sad, and if she wasn't so ridiculous, I'd actually like her. But, as it was a week after being uncerimoniously dumped by Brody, and I was soundly and wonderfully slumbering under the covers with Perfect, I was none to happy with the 1 am texts and calls. INAPPROPRIATE! She was fully aware of Perfect's new 'taken and loving it' status. (It was mostly compounded by my terrorizing and destroying her in public at a bar in Home-Town. We'll call it H-town for short, shall we?) Well, she continues to try and contact him, so I send her a very composed text, inviting her to GTFO. And she did. :)

All of this is to say, maybe I am manipulative in some ways. But I'm also that bitch that'll squash stuff right at the start. If I feel like fighting for you, trust me I will. Without calling it something else or disguising it. If I want you to leave me and my man alone, I wont passive aggressively talk behind your back or spread rumors or do ANY OF THAT. I'll tell you to your face what I want from you. I've always prided myself on being able to tell people exactly how I feel.

I don't call it manipulative. I call it black and white. But nobody's used to that anymore. Welllllllll, if you want me around, get used it. :)

The Obligitory Beginning Blog

And thus, I have joined the legions of prepubescent children, woe is me teens. I always viewed blogging as a way to get attention or a way to passive aggressively get everything out about people you hate right in front of their eyes. Maybe it is all of these things, but I'm bored and would rather not write a paper about the sociological critisisms of Hamlet and would much rather write about myself.

I live in a city, in a state, in a country. I go to college and I have an internship. I love to dance more than anything. I'm not particularly good at it anymore, but I give myself points for trying. I live my life the way I like and how I feel is best for me. I relatively enjoy it so far, although the stress of wanting to please those who pay my way can definitely get to me.

I don't have much gossip to dish at the moment. No deep, soul searching nugget of wisdom to pass on. No soap box to stand on and preach from. I'm brand new at this and it'll take me a while to get used to spilling my guts to the eternal world of the vomitous internet. So cut me some slack