| A story, for your reading pleasure. |
[Dec. 2nd, 2009|11:26 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  relieved | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Song for the Painfully Indie | ] |
So I'm walking home from my Same-Sex Issues in Victorian Lit class and chatting to good ole Mary on the phone. It's raining and cold and 10:30 and all that when all of a sudden I have to shit. Like. So badly. Like not in the wonderous "when I get home, there will be nice amount of time spent reading", but in the "ohmyfuckinggodimgoingtoshitmypants" kind of way. So, trying to stay aloof on the phone with Mary, I hasten my pace. But it's a far walk. Like, not walking forever far, but too far when you had chili for lunch.
So, eventually being on the phone is taking up too much concentration and I hang up. I'm still walking at a breakneck speed, not running, mind, because I'm desperately scared of exerting anything.
Then I feel something just go. And like Margaret Cho said is one of her awesome standups. There's a moment where you just have to accept that you are going to shit your pants. And you need to own it.
Of course, I don't. I'm panicking and trying to remember what underwear I'm wearing and if they're nice ones and why that matters and clenching every ole thing. But it's too late. It all just goes. Supposedly. And while not a feeling of zen, totally a feeling of sad acceptance washes over me. Or, out of me. Whatever.
There's also a lake of water I converse-through and the fumbling of keys and then I make it in the door. Toiletcloset. Drawers dropped. And everything was fucking fine. I mean, I went (and it was glorious) but there was no disaster. Phantomfuckingshit.
Andddd that's the story that I don't feel like ever talking about verbally but was too good to not write about. End scene. |
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| come on |
[Nov. 30th, 2009|10:13 am] |
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its ridiculous that i can know so strongly two different things at the same time on the same subject. Ridiculous. |
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| imagine |
[Nov. 26th, 2009|07:56 pm] |
me and you.
I do. |
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| Classic movie |
[Nov. 12th, 2009|12:49 pm] |
10 things I hate about you poem
I hate the way you talk to me,
and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car,
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots
and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick,
it even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you're always right,
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh,
even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you're not around,
and the fact that you didn't call.
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you,
not even close
not even a little bit
not even at all. |
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| Sink or Swim by Tyrone Wells |
[Nov. 7th, 2009|12:34 pm] |
Caught in the middle of a crossfire
Lost my balance on a high wire
Trying to figure out what to do
Pushed to the edge of my reason
Everywhere around me it's treason
I don't want to do that to you
Kamikaze airplanes in the sky
Are we going down or will we fly?
This could be a shipwreck on the shore
Or we could sail away forevermore
This time it's sink or swim, sink or swim
Hearing the song in your laughter
A melody I chase after
No one else has done this to me
Kamikaze airplanes in the sky
Are we going down or will we fly?
This could be a shipwreck on the shore
Or we could sail away forevermore
This time it's sink or swim, sink or swim
Take a deep breath
No more time left
This is what I thought I wanted
Why am I afraid? |
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| as i sit |
[Nov. 6th, 2009|07:58 pm] |
Eating Reeses pieces and drinking my third bottle of organic beer, I'm reminded of my seven year old self, screaming "No one likes me!"
When I was a kid I was always really sensitive to not having friends. I don't think I was especially strange as a youngster. Maybe a little sensitive and perceptive, but nothing strange. But on three different occasions, kids who i thought were my dear friends, took me aside and told me they never really liked me, that my jokes werne't really funny, and that everyone pretended to laugh. I remember thinking that that couldn't be right, because why the big show? Why would everyone rally together like that? But it still really hurt. Whether it was true or not. |
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| a sudden realization |
[Nov. 3rd, 2009|12:15 am] |
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coldplays viva la vida is the best song to play over porn. think about the timing and climaxes...of the song. |
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| hehehe |
[Oct. 28th, 2009|11:58 pm] |
Amy: Reading little Dorrit is hard. But on the computer i can make the font huge!
Cheryl: Won't that just take longer to read?
Amy: Because you read big words slower?
Cheryl: Yes, cause they're big!
Amy: Don't you think if that were true billboards would cause more accidents?
Cheryl: That's why I think they should be illegal!
Amy: This is why you're not allowed to drive!
Cheryl: How are dangerous billboards, with big letters, that take longer to read my fault?
Amy: Well I think they only afflict you, buddy.
Cheryl: Danger to ALL!
Amy: If you're on the road I heartedly agree.
Cheryl: I see what you did there.
Amy: So smart but put some big text around you! Doomed!
Cheryl: Doomed! |
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| I got a feeling |
[Sep. 25th, 2009|12:06 am] |
Oooohhhhh.
That this weekend could be a good good weekend.
Also? I really like my hair.
Also also? Having the Internet again is baad terrible for doing homework.
Probably last post as 24 year old youth. Goodbye, youth and prosperity.. Hello mid twenties confusion and expectation! |
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| it's nice |
[Sep. 17th, 2009|12:35 am] |
Finally being back where I want to be. Doing what I wanted to be doing. And putting all the things that bugged me on the back burner. Kind of.
10 days until I'm 25. Well, 9 now. It feels big. |
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| pfft, what girlfriend. |
[Aug. 18th, 2009|11:00 pm] |
I'm excited because my girlfriend is coming back from England tomorrow. It was only a week but I noticed a pretty big lack of a shiny world when she wasn't in mine. I was fine and had a pretty awesome, efficient, funfilled week but.... There was totally a lack of love that I did not enjoy. And I don't think I ever slept very deeply. All these little things I missed.
but shhhhh, don't tell her. I'm trying to act very cool and unaffected.
less than 24 hours before I get to hug her...so awesome. |
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| maaaan |
[Jul. 28th, 2009|07:48 am] |
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I just want the York Bookstore to email me and tell me I have a job so that I can start planning the rest of my August and that will make it go by faster until it's September and then I'll be working two jobs and in class full time for a month so that I can forget all of this. I just want to wash it all away with academia and money. |
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| being a grownup is stupid |
[Jul. 17th, 2009|11:30 am] |
you can't waste your money. You have to pay your phone bill all the time. Everyone wants you to pitch in at the house you 'supposedly' live at. You have to work at a job you only kind of like. You ride your bike for a half hour to pick up the birth certificate you now don't even need a rush of...Maybe taking a car is more grownup.
Mind you. I do get to have my own cats who are pretty cool. I can see my giflriend almost whenever I want. I can watch porn in my room at 11 am as I lay completely exhausted from the bike ride. I do get to go to york to drop off my OSAP application to go back to school. No one uses my shampoo. I don't have to clean my room. Though, I really really want to.
It's so tricky. You know that song? That's all "I wish that I knew all I know now, when I was younger"? I don't think that's true. I like that I was so optimistic and full of life. I like that I keep being like that. No matter how many more crushing disappointments I have to go through. But at least, at the end of the day, I will always have the porn.
Oh, and you. |
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| i fail. |
[Jul. 8th, 2009|09:23 pm] |
Got a drove home from work: Win!
Heavy heavy traffic on highway and get home later than if ttc'd: Fail.
Decide to get groceries: Win!
Don't make a list: Fail.
Grab a sweater cause it was cold: Win!
This morning it was cold, now it is hot: Fail.
Hair looks nice: Win!
Forget hat and sun blinds: Fail.
Remember reusable bags: Win!
Forget debit card: Fail.
Forget keys: Fail.
Forget to pick up groceries had set out for: Fail.
Fail fail fail..
I did get groceries though, which is good for work because other than leftover angry steak it was getting pretty slim at work. I have a jobinterview/thingy? On saturday morning? In Richmond hill? I feel like I should tell her I'm going to go back to school in September and am thus useless to the employing world. Though, part of me thinks that if the job offer was sweet I would put off school again. Because i'm made of fail? No, no. I just wish I had more money. |
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| maturity, where? |
[Jul. 6th, 2009|04:10 pm] |
I'm just so mad at myself for letting her affect my mood like this. I am a fully functional adult woman and I should be able to go to the passport office and be told I have to wait another week because my birth certificate is all tattered and I have to get a new one and I should not have then wished I could lash out at everything. I just felt so so angry with the whole world and poor Mary was stuck with me being a jerk to her. And it's because I let the way Cheryl treats me affect me too much. I take everything to close to heart. Which can be amazing when it's nice things and loving things but it wasn't today. And I did not do anything wrong and the amount of hypocrisy is ridiculous. It's always one step forward eight steps back and maybe it's because I'm going to get my period soon and because I was already feeling fat and useless all weekend anyways. And maybe it's because I wanted to feel loved and pretty and knew I was feeling like that and was already trying so hard to be self aware and to be there and supporting and caring. But I'm just so disappointed with everything. I left her house so very sad and then just became angrier and angrier. And I wonder if she cares and I wonder wonder why do dodo. Who wrote the book of love.
And so now I'm going to pick out the courses I need for school next year and hope I get into awesome stuff. And I'm going to be the Host of the Talent Night for the Notsoamazon's dance party. Because I am special and people do like me. |
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| sappysapsap |
[Jul. 2nd, 2009|11:40 pm] |
I love her.
That's all. |
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| Some Great Text Messages |
[Jun. 26th, 2009|12:13 am] |
zalina: I bought thetix but forgot 2 text u
me: I assumed you died! I held a vigil all nighht!
hours go by.
charlotte: Michael Jackson: dead? The internet thinks so.
zalina: Your accidental vigil for me killed michael Jackson |
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| Trying not to fail |
[Jun. 23rd, 2009|06:48 pm] |
You know, at life.
I finally got into a class. Legit and everything. And I hated it. I hated the material, I hated the Professor, I hated the class. But I thought I would eventually like it and stuck to and then the Prof said I didn't write enough in a paper and like Jordan said, nobody likes to feel dumb. And he made me feel dumb. But I'm not dumb, the class is dumb. He will discuss the right word for a pot head for thirty minutes but then assigns Michel Foucault as the first reading. He wants a one page summary of the first six chapters of a philosophy book and then tells me I didn't go into enough detail. It didn't make sense and I hated it.
But then what do I do? Today is the last day to drop the class and still get some money back. I need 6 credits. I need a third year course. And I just totally caved under all the pressure of what to do. Do I drop it or do I power through? Everyone was doing their best in giving me advice and every time I made a decision I went back on it. I knew I hated the idea of being there for 18 more times. I knew I didn't want to see that Prof anymore. I knew I probably wouldn't do the readings. But I didn't want to disappoint everyone. Or have to take a course later next summer. Or or or.
And then Cheryl asked me what I would do if I didn't have to worry about money. And without missing a beat I said drop the class. And then she said I should do that. And I loved her. Because she helped me realize that more than anything I just didn't want to waste money. But that I didn't know that that was what was keeping me there. And now I'm out of the class and feel a million times better. And have just a little bit bigger of a crush on that girlfriend of mine. The one I'm celebrating Pride with. Which is pretty swell, as I'm just so fucking proud.
You know, with or without knee skin. |
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