o.

Set To Self-Destruct In 10, 9, 8...

2009-07-31T14:32:00.002-04:00

Firstly, I would like to apologize to the, like, two people, who read this.

A lot has happened, but really, it's too much for me to just tell you. You'll pick up on most of it as I continue to write.

Lately, my self-destructive tendencies have been really agitating me. It's difficult to look at my arms without experiencing urges to mutilate them. It's even worse to work with razors at the jobs I work at, and not be able to use them for what I want.

The other day, I was talking to one of AOK's exes, who claims that right up until the Monday after we started dating, had been talking about getting back together with her. This was agitating, because he'd always told me that they were just friends now, and he had been saying that he loved me for at least a month. I was torn - should I call and try to talk to him about this, or just dump him?

I ended up just texting him and telling him that we were done, which was unwise, and there were two main factors that contributed to this decision:

1. He wasn't answering his phone. Which didn't matter, I could have waited until morning.

2. I kept thinking that if I broke up with him, I would be able to cut without feeling guilty, because he's the only person I feel morally obligated to tell when I do something like that, and he hates it.

Long story short, the next morning, when he got my text, he called me, practically in tears, denied part of what his ex said, and apologized for the rest. It's my belief that everyone deserves a second chance - but not everyone deserves a third. I'm just sorry he had to use his second one so soon.

But lately, another one of my friends has gone kind of loco. Very few people know about his problem with depression, and I am one of those few. I try so hard to cheer him up, to encourage him, to be there when he needs it, but last night he confessed that he had planned on going to bed with a bag tied over his head. We talked for a long time. I eventually got him to promise not to hurt himself that night, but until that point, I was panicking. It scared me so bad. Of course, I was frightened of losing a friend, and upset that he would hurt himself, but I was also frightened for another reason. I knew that, at that point, if anything happened to him, it was because I hadn't been able to prevent it.

So, I feel like I can relate to AOK's feelings regarding my self-destructive habits. It must be terrifying, not only to know that someone you care about hates themselves so much, but also to feel somewhat responsible for their well-being.

<3 o.

Long Time, No See

2009-04-23T23:31:00.003-04:00

But I have a relatively good reason for about two weeks of my absence: I was in an inpatient unit for overdosing on Toredol. Here's the scoop:

I had a good day. I went shopping with my little sister, we bought some hair accessories and the first season of Pushing Daisies (more on Pushing Daisies later), and then we were going to go see the play at my high school together. We were taking my friend Brain with me. So we were on our way. We got there. I was feeling a little antsy because I wasn't sure if I really wanted to go to the play, but it was too late.

So then we got in there and I saw Han. I despise Han. With every fiber in my being. You of all people should know that.

And I got shaky and my mind wouldn't go straight. I didn't like it. I left, telling my sister and friend I'd be back. Well, I didn't come back. I sent nasty, awful, hateful texts to AOK, and I cried, and I went to the cemetery and cut up my side pretty bad.

I went back to the school, thinking I'd be okay. But Han was sitting in the row right by the door and I saw him and went outside again. I texted another friend, telling her that I needed to see her right away, but she didn't get it; her phone was off. So I went to my car, feeling hurt and angry for no real reason. I felt VERY guilty for having cut my side.

And I thought, "Toredol." I don't know why. So I took a few. Then a few more. Then a few more. I texted AOK telling him what I just did, half with the intention of getting help and half with the intention of getting back at him for I-Don't-Know-What. Well, my friend called me back soon, and I told her what happened and she took me to Mom.

In the E.R., I felt even worse. I had to drink a bottle of charcoal - worst thing ever to drink, I swear. Mom looked so stressed and Dad looked a forced kind of passive. I had to wonder if he was thinking about his sister's suicide attempts from when they were younger. The doctor didn't believe a word I said about there not having been a cause. Honestly, the doctor was a moron.

So I went to a "Behavior Health Unit" for a few days. It wasn't horrible. I'll tell you, the worst part was having no pencil in my room! We had to be in our rooms at 10 every night, and I couldn't have a pencil with me because I was self-destructive.

The nut house is full of interesting people. It really is. And did you know that there was not a single puzzle there without missing pieces?

Well, I got to leave. And I was so happy about that. But life isn't back to normal yet. I was watching Pushing Daisies with my same little sister recently, and had to leave to do something. When I was late, she called me several times, saying she wanted me to come home, she wanted me to come home. I felt so bad. I got home as soon as I could.

Not to mention the whole school knows a completely altered version of the real events. Han has been telling people that I did it because he wouldn't go back out with me, the little rodent. As if I'd want to. Does anyone here see any reason for me to date that frog? Well, if you do, tough luck, because I disagree!

There are more updates to come, I promise. I just need to get back on the wagon here.

I'm sorry, and I love you.

<3>

I Wasn't But I Might As Well Have Been

2009-03-12T19:37:00.004-04:00

At the risk of being repetitive, I feel like I'm completely losing control of myself.

Even right now, I can't write what I want to. My mind is a mess. It's like someone ransacked it.

Last night I went to T.H. with my cousin. I'm not sure if I've mentioned her before, so we'll call her Stretch. Well, first we went to eat at Fazoli's, which was fun. We both drank a lot of coke, so by the end of the night we really needed to use the bathroom. We decided to get refills then use the bathroom, so we were filling our drinks, when Stretch got too much and spilled it, and it went all over her arm and the counter. For some reason, I found this hilariously funny. We cleaned it up, and she got more coke, and then spilled it again. We both cracked up, and only laughed harder when a nearby onlooker stated, "Looks like someone couldn't handle the drinks tonight." Stretch said that she had to pee and asked me to handle the coke and then left. I could have been annoyed - that was a lot of coke - but for some reason, I just couldn't stop LAUGHING. That basically kept up the whole night.

And then I sent AOK "drunk texts." I don't even know why. Seriously. Why would a person do that? Honestly, they weren't supposed to look as drunk as they did. I wasn't really paying attention to what I was doing. I was so out of it and I couldn't stop laughing and I was talking to Stretch at the same time. Seriously, I have no idea what I was doing last night. I just remember freaking out all night. I mean, I was just all over the place. And I have no idea why or what I was doing.

I barely do my homework anymore. That's really not good. I mean, I look at my homework, and I think, "Eh, it can wait." Yeah. I do that, you know, the morning of the day it's due. I don't remember the last time I did anything before the twenty-four hours in which I was supposed to turn it in.

And I bought myself more crap. What is wrong with me? A CD for a singer that I shouldn't even like and a new bra. In my defense, they were both on sale. But seriously. I didn't need a new bra. And Lady Gaga? Why did I buy that? Practically the whole CD is about sex. Why did I buy that?

I do like a few of the songs.

That's not the point.

But I don't know what the point is exactly anyway. I know I've said all this about feeling out of control before, but it's getting a little scary. And right now I'm alone. I don't want to be alone. I wish I could go see AOK but he's working on a car right now. But I really don't feel safe right now. I'm all panicky and shaky and my mind is racing. I'm also starving. I'm always hungry now. I don't understand.

<3 o.

True Confessions

2009-03-11T00:09:00.003-04:00

I have to remind myself yet again that I am writing this blog for myself. I told Elsa about it because I didn't think I'd ever have anything that I wouldn't want to tell Elsa. But there are a few things that I haven't written about because I'd just rather she not know.

So, Elsa. I'm going to write about something I'd prefer you not know about it. And if you continue reading past this point anyway, I won't blame you. But these aren't really things I want you to know.

Now I'm going to insert this miniature paragraph so that she won't catch a glimpse of the confession and get even more curious than she already is. Alright that's enough, I can't think of anything else to type in this little distraction.

Confession One: AOK and I had sex.

I know. I know. I don't even know. I mean... it blows my mind that my brain has deteriorated this much. The worst part is, it was my fault. It was my idea. I don't know why I suggested it or why I did it. He didn't jump for it like some completely selfish jerk, although he didn't need much convincing either.

I don't know why I did it. Part of me is so angry and upset about it. AOK and I aren't strangers by any means, but we certainly aren't emotionally attached to do something like that. And this part of me is so confused, because she doesn't see a point in physical attachment without emotional attachment, too.

And then this other part of me doesn't regret it. Firstly, I think it makes what Han did seem less important. Kind of like saying, "See? It's no big deal. People do this kind of thing." Which isn't really true. But also, it's almost like this part of me knows that it's damaging, and is glad. I don't understand that. But whenever Alice thinks, "Why do that? It's going to be painful later. It's going to be bad," then Judith thinks, "Exactly."

And I know that AOK regrets it. Well, he says he doesn't regret it. But he says he shouldn't have done that and we won't do it again. He doesn't care what we do as long as we don't have sex.

Confession Two: I started cutting myself.

What the freaking crap? I think I've spoken before on how I feel about self-mutilation. I hate the idea. I've been so determined for so long to never, ever hurt myself like that.

So what drove me to this? I have no idea. I can't even remember why I did it the first time, which was a few weeks ago. It was just a few scratches. I was frustrated and lonely and confused, and I guess I thought I deserved it.

After that, I would let them heal, but once they weren't red anymore, I got restless. It bothered me when my wrists were normal. I felt like there should be cuts or scratches there. So every time they were nearly healed, I'd do it again.

Well, AOK found out. I went to his house one day, and I was carrying a watch to keep track of the time. While we were talking, he took my watch and started to put it on my arm, and pulled my sleeve back to do it. He wasn't happy. He kept rubbing my wrists with his thumbs and saying, "Damn, girl." He made me promise to stop.

I did it once after that. And the morning after I broke the promise to him, I was so upset with myself. My skin was burning and I felt absolutely horrible for causing myself injury and for breaking that promise. I went to AOK's house before school in near-tears. I told him I wouldn't come see him anymore and I wouldn't talk to him and that he needed to stay away from me. I asked him if he could really care about someone who could break that kind of promise. I asked if he really wanted to watch someone he cared about tear herself apart like that.

He told me that I had better not stop being his friend like I said that I was going to. I told him that it was what would be best for him. "Don't make my decisions for me. I'll decide what's best for me, and right now, I'm deciding it's for you to see me. If I change my mind, I'll let you know. If this is a mistake, it's the best one I've ever made," is what he said.

Mom, Dad, and my psychologist all know. And maybe my psychiatrist. I think Mom and Dad talked to my psychiatrist. Mom and Dad also know that AOK is the only friend of mine who knows and who I'm comfortable knowing. This doesn't matter much to them, but my psychologist and psychiatrist think that Mom and Dad both need to back off and let me make my decisions where AOK is concerned instead of banning me from seeing him.

But honestly. I'm freaking out. I mean I'm really freaking out. In the past couple of weeks, I've done two things that I promised myself and others that I would never do, and part of me still wants to do them. A big part of me. I'm really, really confused.

<3 o.

Me, Myself, And o.

2009-03-09T16:01:00.003-04:00

So there's this part of me that is really aggressive, impulsive, and destructive. We're going to call her Judith. Judith is violently manic, and that is the best that I know to describe her. She doesn't care if what she is doing or about to do is going to hurt someone else or herself - in fact, if it does, the more likely she is to do it. She wants her way.

And then there's Alice. No connection to Alice of Wonderland, surprisingly enough. I don't know why she's called Alice. But she's quiet and passive and easily scared. She doesn't care about getting things her way - in fact, she doesn't even have a way to get them. She is completely dependent on Judith in many aspects, which is ironic because Judith does things purely to torment Alice a lot of the time.

Judith doesn't see the point in being emotionally involved with someone you are physically involved with. Alice doesn't see the point in being physically involved with someone that you aren't emotionally involved with.

So AOK is causing both of them some trouble. Because he is too emotionally attached for Judith's comfort and not emotionally attached enough for Alice's. Judith can deal with this, however, because it's driving Alice mad. So Judith is just getting dirty and dragging Alice through the mud with her.

And Cathy is over there in the corner, thinking about what idiots the two of them are for being involved with anyone at all in any way. Alice likes being close to AOK, and Judith likes being close to AOK. Cathy wishes he'd stop talking to and touching her. Just leave her alone, you disgusting, filthy male.

And as for me? Well, I guess Little o. would mostly like to just disappear. And it would kind of appear that she's starting to do just that.

I really don't understand this. I really feel like I have distinctly different moods with different thinking patterns and tendencies. Like a setting or a mode that can be changed. And it really freaks me out that they have names. Or that I named them. Or whatever. I often feel in a Judith mode - basically destructive, and not really thinking about the consequences of most of my actions. Unless they are bad consequences. Which are kind of encouraging. Which is kind of bad.

<3 o.

The Chaotic Void

2009-03-08T01:06:00.005-05:00

Otherwise known as "my life."

Have you ever noticed that as soon as you get one problem fixed, another one is ready and willing to takes its place? And how is that even fair? Let's not talk about it.

Do you know what one thing I hate is? I hate spending money on myself. I really do. I hate buying things for me with a passion. I occasionally do it, thinking that I deserve a pick-me-up, and that somehow buying this adorable shirt or addictive movie will help me feel better. However, I always regret it. And don't get me wrong; I have excellent taste in both shirts and movies.

But after I buy it, I immediately regret it. I don't need whatever I just bought. And the money I spent on what I don't need could have been spent on something else. For someone else.

I adore buying things for other people. Whenever I buy something for myself, all I can think about is what I could have bought for someone else with that same money. And then it's very hard for me to enjoy whatever it is I just bought.

I am thinking about this because tonight I bought myself some new underwear (because who doesn't feel better when they know that they're wearing cute underwear?) and a couple of dresses that were on sale for $5 each. I spent about $20 altogether. Which, comparatively speaking, isn't much. I mean, most shirts are like $15, and most people spend WAY more on themselves than that when they buy something. But all I can think is, "I could have bought this book for my sister. I could have bought this card for AOK. I could have bought this movie for Elsa." It's frustrating.

Man I feel like crap. I don't even know why I feel like crap. I have random, strong urges to do myself injury. Not necessarily physical injury, either. I just get these urges to hurt myself, or to do things that I know will be detrimental to my emotional stability. I'm getting impulsive and careless, and it scares me.

Case in point: I forgot to go to class the other day. I completely skipped fifth hour. I went from fourth hour to sixth hour. And I didn't even realize I'd missed fifth hour until five minutes before it was over. In addition, I am getting to school late. Late. Me! And I'm procrastinating even more than usually. Which is hard to pull off. And mostly results in things not getting done ever.

Something else to worry about: My therapist wants me to get an examination because of what happened with Han, to make sure everything is alright physically. This is fine by me, except for trying to get to the doctor without Mom and/or Dad knowing where I'm going. They are very strict about knowing where I am and what I'm doing at all times. I hate to miss more school, but I already have to take finals, so I'll probably just have to schedule the appointment during school and get a doctor's note for the attendance. But it is still stressing me out.

Okay I'm going to start talking about what I was talking about earlier again. Impulsive. Careless. Self-destructive.

I read a book once called The Thirteenth Tale.

It's a really good book. In it, there are two twins: Adeline and Emmeline. They're interesting girls. Adeline is violent and dominant, while Emmeline is submissive and quiet. Adeline constantly attacks Emmeline and will do things just to make life harder for her twin. Emmeline bears all of Adeline's abuse and does everything she can to help her sister despite it.

That's what I feel like I'm doing. I feel like I'm attacking myself and I'm just sitting there taking it, and even trying to make myself happy despite the fact that I'm abusive to myself. What? Okay so that makes no sense. See the confusion?

<3 o.

p.s. : The image is from postsecret. Duh.

p.p.s. : Did you notice how unorganized this post was? That's how my brain is all the time anymore. Nothing is every organized. Everything is scattered all over the place, like a book that's had its pages torn out by a poorly disciplined child. Ugh.

Celebrating 101 Posts And More

2009-02-14T16:46:00.003-05:00

Okay, so 100 posts is a lot - but 101 is even more. And for me, it's pretty impressive. I've had blogs before, but I've never kept them up this long or this well. So I feel pretty good about it.

But big deal. There are more important things than having 101 posts on your blog. Like you guys. Anji and Worldman are two of the most encouraging people I know - I feel so blessed to have them reading my blog. :] They comment all the time, even though I am a comment slacker. And a few other people have commented recently, on posts that gave away my strong need for encouragement. I'll admit, I don't know who those people are, but their words, and just the fact that they took time to write those words, made me feel so much better.

All this trouble with Han is overwhelming, but through it I've realized how many people I have to be thankful for. I have some cheerleader friends that I haven't seen much of lately, but I recently realized how much I love and miss them. A few days ago, Han made me cry and I went to find one of them that I see daily. I couldn't find her, but another of my friends saw me and asked what was wrong. Before I knew it, all four of my cheerbuddies were hugging me and telling me that I'd be okay, they'd make it okay, they were going to show him what's up. I never thought in all my life I'd be so happy to be surrounded by cheerleaders.

I'm even thankful for people that I've met through Han, such as AOK. I'm not sure if I've mentioned him before or not, or if I changed his name. AOK is Han's best friend. When I first got to know him, I thought he was a real jerk, but it turns out, I was really wrong. When Han first started acting strangely, I called AOK to find out if anything was up that I should know about. We started talking regularly. I mostly talked about Han and he mostly would get my mind off of it. It was a good system. :] Well, eventually I started to feel bad for burdening him, and talking to him so much, seeing as he had a girlfriend, so I stopped calling him. After a couple of weeks of silence, he texted me on my mom's cell phone and told me that no matter what was happening with Han and I, he was still my friend and I could still talk to him if I needed to. He's also a complete sweetheart. He can tell when I'm down, and he knows how to cheer me up. He reminds me constantly that I don't need Han, even though it feels like it, and that I'm a beautiful, wonderful girl. What I wanna know is how a jerk like Han can be close friends with someone like AOK?

I'm now also friends again with one of my dearest cousins that had a falling out with me years back. Turns out we still both care about each other a lot, and have some problems that I think we can help each other with. And another friend that I haven't seen recently can really relate to my depression very well. I've missed her since she's graduated, and I hope I can start to see her more often. I forgot how supportive and loving she is.

And another guy from my church has been a complete sweetheart. He's always willing to talk to me when I am desperate to have company. I believe I've mentioned him before, but I can't remember what name I gave him, so I'll have to check on that. And a friend of Elsa's has also become a close friend. Last night we had a long, serious talk, and it turns out that we have a lot in common. We kept each other company this morning, since we were both having V-Day Blues.

With all these wonderful people around me, how can I be unhappy about the loss of Han? After all, some of these friendships wouldn't even have been brought to existance without Han. Some of them would never have gotten as strong as they are if he hadn't put me through what he did.

So I'm still upset about Han. But I have a lot of blessings, too. And I should try harder to celebrate all my amazing, supportive friends, instead of mourning the loss of one self-centered jerk.

<3 o.

Good Reasons

2009-02-08T20:35:00.005-05:00

To Be Really, Really Angry At Han

1. Rape
Yeah. I bet you weren't expecting to see that. Well, guess what? You saw it, and, yup, you saw it right, and you are officially sworn to secrecy. I never mentioned it before because it was too confusing and upsetting. But here's the thing: Yes, it's sex even if no one orgasms. Yes, it's rape even if the girl doesn't physically fight him. If she's repeatedly saying, "no," and he is repeatedly responding with, "yes," and does what he wants regardless - pretty sure it is rape. I wasn't sure before. I'm sure now. And I'm not just sure - I'm ticked.

2. All-Around General Horniness To The Extreme
I know guys are horny. And it can't be helped. But that's why I included 'to the extreme.' Seriously. I mean, who doesn't enjoy a good dirty joke every once in a while? But when that becomes your entire sense of humor, it isn't funny. It's annoying. And kind of gross. And you know what? When someone is crying while talking to you, that's the wrong time to tell her that you are horny for her. It just is. (See 5.) Maybe that's why he's been so mean lately - seeing me cry turns him on. (By the way, that's a little thing I like to call sarcasm.)

3. Dishonesty
He lied about just about everything. Yup, Han is a liar. I always knew that, but until the last few months, it was only about little things, like he had beaten a certain video game or owned a certain movie. You know, just things that he thought made him look cooler than he was - even though he was 100% cool at that point in time. But now it's out of control. Lying about seeing Cheer behind my back? Not cool. So does he love me? Does he not? Did he really get drunk? Who knows? Who cares? There's no way I can any longer believe what he says unless I have proof.

4. Disloyalty
No, he didn't technically "cheat." As far as physically. But he definitely had an emotional affair. He was not loyal. He let his guard down with Cheer, and even if they didn't "do the dirty," there was definitely something going on. After all, they were talking about going out. He kissed her on the cheek. He told her that he could see them together in the future. He lead her and I on at the same time. And I really don't feel like putting up with that.

5. Insensitivity
When a girl - particularly your girlfriend - is crying, you don't tell her to "cut the crap" and then storm off. Unless you want to make the problem worse. This is especially true if your girlfriend is crying about something you did. Some like, say, lying or being disloyal. There's no crap to cut. You did something wrong, it hurt her, and she's upset. You fix it. But did Han do that? No. Because he doesn't care about anything but himself. Today, he flat out said he wasn't upset about us, which as good as saying that he doesn't care about the two years we were happy together. And did he seem bothered when I, in tears, told him that I hated him and wanted him to stay away from me until he could stop acting like a jerk? No, I don't think he was bothered at all. Because he could care less how much he's hurt me.

6. This Entry
Just the fact that I even had to write this entry. This is my 100th entry. I was looking forward to this. I was going to do something fun for this post. You know, celebratory "Yay 100 entries!" post. But this is what's in my brain right now. All of this is inside of me and it needs out. And I am so ticked that he has done so much crap wrong that I had to waste my 100th entry on him. I'm even more ticked that I wasted two years of my life on him.

Reading this list, you really have to wonder where all the material for the last entry came from? That entry was based entirely on my feelings for Han about eight months ago - before he turned into what is described about. I don't miss Han now. I miss Han then. But this is the Han he is now, and I can't want to be with someone like this, and I can't date someone for something they aren't. I mean, let's face it - I love him, and I might always. But I can't put up with this kind of pain, and I shouldn't have to.

<3 o.

All About Han

2009-02-05T14:14:00.002-05:00

To start with, the boy absolutely melted my heart last night. And considering how mad I was at him, this could not have been an easy task. Two days ago, he broke up with me again. It was a dump that was full of promises for the future and apologies. It was followed by discovering that he'd been drunk a few nights before and had sent Cheer a message on myspace telling her that he loved her. And after we fought about that, he called me and told me that he loved me and didn't want to break up with me, and that he'd be so happy if I got better.

That was two days ago. I wasn't buying it. I didn't even let myself cry.

Last night, he asked me to go get a blizzard with him. We did, and I was pretty quiet the whole time. I guess my resolve to be angry with him (despite his sweetness) was starting to weaken, because he could tell I was upset and kept asking what was wrong. By the time we were leaving, I was forcing back tears. I asked him if he had cried either time we broke up, and he said both. I told him that I hadn't cried yet, and when he asked why, I told him that I wouldn't let myself. He then reached over and held my hand and told me that it was alright to cry or talk or do whatever I needed to. A few tears escaped, but I held back most of them. When we got to his house, he said something about not having changed, and I pointed out to him a couple of big things that had changed about him. Han agreed, and told me he was sorry for what he was putting me through, that he knew he shouldn't be and he was sorry. Then he gave me a hug, and told me that he loved me and was going to get better for me. Then he went inside.

I started crying and left for home.

Less than two minutes later, he called the cell phone and told me to come back. Han came outside and looked at me and said, "You cried." "Just a little bit." He touched my cheek, and I said, "They aren't there anymore." He told me they were, that my cheeks were moist. He said it was okay, and told me that I had soft skin, all the while running his fingers along the side of and under my face.

And my heart absolutely melted.

Because I love Han. Everything about him. His smile is so beautiful, and when I see it growing across his face, I can't help but grin myself.

When he sleeps, he looks so sweet and peaceful, I just want to stroke his hair and kiss his face all over. Other times, he snores so loudly it makes me want to laugh and hug him, but it would wake him up.

When he hugs me, I want to just disappear inside his arms, where it's warm and safe. I want to stay there forever. When I see his arms, I want them securely around me.

Some people see fireworks when they kiss. When Han kisses me, I see pure yellow, like a huge blinding light.

When he holds my hand, I can barely keep myself from bringing our hands to my mouth and kissing his. When he kisses my hand, I can't keep from blushing, and I just know that I glow.

When I think about him, my heart beats so much faster. When I am close enough to hear his heartbeat, I want to be able to hear it forever, and I tell him how beautiful it is.

When we're close to each other and I can hear, feel, or see his breath, I hold my breath and I don't let it out until he lets his out. I like the idea of us breathing together.

When he tickles me, I both shriek and laugh like no tomorrow, because no one could make being tickled as much fun as he does. When he massages the back of my head, fingers in my hair, I end up leaning into his hand like a kitten having its chin scratched.

When he looks directly in my eyes, and I can see his irises so perfectly, I can't think of a thing that is more beautiful than his eyes. They are the most perfect, piercing eyes.

When he says he loves me, he has this voice that's full of intensity and desperacy, and when I hear it, it's like someone puts a star in my heart, the way it beats and I can feel my eyes sparkle.

But oh...

When he's angry, how I want to just cower. Not from fear, but to appease.

When he's with other people, I get so nervous. Are there other girls? What kind of influence are the guys there going to be? What are they doing? Why does he refuse to talk to me when he's with those people? What has he said about me? What do they think about me?

When he is short with me, my heart aches. There is a literal ache in my chest and I want to crumple into nothing in a corner at the same time as I want to be held to his side by the arm that lets me know he loves me.

When he is walking away, for whatever reason, I want to tell him to wait, and to come back, and to hold me, and to please not let go of me this time.

When he cries (which I haven't seen happen in a while), oh goodness, I want to hug him and stroke his face and hold his hands and pet his hair all at once. I wish I could kiss away whatever upset him as easily as I could kiss away his tears.

What's a girl to do?

<3 o.

WHAT DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE PHRASE

2009-01-28T20:51:00.005-05:00

"Major Depressive Disorder"?

NAMI:
Major depression is a serious medical illness affecting 15 million American adults, or approximately 5 to 8 percent of the adult population in a given year. Unlike normal emotional experiences of sadness, loss, or passing mood states, major depression is persistent and can significantly interfere with an individual’s thoughts, behavior, mood, activity, and physical health. Among all medical illnesses, major depression is the leading cause of disability in the U.S. and many other developed countries.

DEPRESSION.COM:
Depression is not something you can just "snap out of." It's thought to be caused by an imbalance of brain chemicals, along with other factors. Like any serious medical condition, depression needs to be treated.

That with more screaming and crying. That's what it feels like.

SO WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE NOT UNDERSTAND? WHAT?! TELL ME WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND AND I WILL LOOK IT UP AND PUT IT INTO UNDERSTANDABLE TERMS FOR YOU.

I do not have control over my feelings.

So, Han, I do not have control over how I feel. For the record, I feel unwanted, unloved, unworthy, unbeautiful, and un-anything-good. And for the record, Han was the only thing that every made me feel wanted, loved, worthy, beautiful, or good. I remember when he said he didn't know what he'd do with out me. I remember when he didn't want to let go of our hugs. I remember when he didn't pull immediately away from a kiss. I remember when he hated to not hold my hand. I remember when he'd hold me if I was crying. I remember when I was something to cherish. I remember when I wasn't a nuisance. I remember when he didn't care what others thought, as long as I was happy. I remember when he never yelled at me. I remember all those things and more.

Why doesn't he remember? Or care? Or whatever?

He says his problem is that I'm not happy. BUT THOSE ARE THE THINGS THAT MAKE ME NOT HAPPY. He says the one thing he wants more than anything else in the world is my happiness. But he HAS my happiness... I just wish he'd give some of it to me!

What does he NOT understand? He says I've changed, but I am exactly the same as I was when we met: sad, lonely, hopeless. Only then, he wanted to make me happy. Now he wants nothing to do with me unless I can make myself happy.

What does he NOT understand? Or does he understand and not care?

I can't make anyone happy. I can't make me happy. I can't make my parents happy, I can't make Han happy, I can't even make my rabbit happy. I can't even MAKE ME HAPPY.

I could just die.

<3 o.

Good Morning, Midnight!

2009-01-25T00:01:00.003-05:00

I've never been much of a concert-goer. I went to one concert in 6th grade with my cousin and our parents, and I really went more for the music than for the concert experience. I have been to a Christian youth conference called Acquire The Fire, and that was something of a concert experience.

On Thursday, I had another concert experience. A few people from my youth group went to a Stellar Kart concert not too far from here. Stellar Kart was good, yes, but what I really enjoyed was the more local opening band, Good Morning Midnight. I loved them before I heard them, just because I loved their name. But I also loved their music. It was lovely, as far as rock goes, and so easy to relate to.

But I am getting ahead of myself. There is a girl in our youth group called Kind. She is tall, thin, and blonde. She's quiet and nice. And she is good friends, of late, with Han. This occurred while I was out of attending youth group. When we got there, he started talking to Kind. This wouldn't normally bother me so much, but for two things: The first is that I'm extremely sensitive lately, more so than before, to his interaction with girls. The second is that his back was rather turned to me, and if it wasn't, they are both so tall that they talk to each other right over me. Then when we were on the bus, he wouldn't let me sit by him. He sat in the two seats in the back, and Kind sat in front of his seats. I sat in front of him and to the side, as there were no back row behind me. I was upset that he'd somewhat ignored me, and also that he wouldn't let me sit by him, and that Kind was closer to him than I was. So I wasn't overly responsive to his little attempts to speak to me. In fact, I faced the window and tried to keep from crying.

Let us pause to examine this need to restrain tears. I've seen my psychologist a couple of times now and the 'diagnosis' is Major Depressive Disorder, which I in no way doubt. Depression or not, though, I'm incredibly sensitive and he knows it. I hate to say this, because it sounds so overdramatic, but this is all considerably due to my feeling completely worthless and inept. And part of that feeling came from the entire Cheer situation. Actually, a lot of it did. That, and his associated hate for any sign of upset from myself. Which was something I couldn't help. Believe me, I tried. I don't think I've every tried harder at anything my entire life. I literally could not keep myself cheerful for any significant length of time, and thusly, I could not keep him happy with me for any significant length of time. Which made me feel like crap, let me tell you.

And that feeling of crap comes up at any time when I feel ignored or unimportant. Which Han doesn't seem to understand. So my moodiness only proved to further agitate him. Which only made me feel increasingly worthless. I didn't even hide it after a while. He reminded me that I was making him look bad and ruining the night, which I hadn't done yet. But since he was going to be upset about me doing something, I figured I might as well do it, so I cried and didn't hide it. Eventually, I forced myself to calm down somewhat. But for some reason, half-way through the concert, I couldn't any more, so I left the concert and went to a back hallway and sat in a window to cry. I didn't think anyone would be there while the concert was going on. One man did walk through, though. An adult man wearing a name landyard walked through and asked if I was okay. My answer was of course an affirmative. Even though of course it shouldn't have been. He asked if he could do anything (a negative) and if i was sure (an affirmative). He told me that if I needed to talk, to let him know. I said okay, even though I had no idea where I'd find him.

And that got me to thinking. My parents are always upset at me when I am unhappy about something they want me to do. Han is always upset at me when I cry for any reason, especially related to him. Everyone is upset at me when I am upset. And this one man that I don't even know is the only one so far who has kindly offered to help without any kind of condemnation. I have only two theories for this:

1. Everyone has their pre-determined ideas of what I should be and what I am capable of. They don't seem to comprehend at all the lack of control I have on my emotions, and maybe they should. And the man who offered to help didn't have those standards already set. He didn't have before and after photos to look at. He didn't see a selfish attention-hungry brat, and he didn't see a pitiful oversensitive nuisance. He just saw a scared and hurting little girl sitting in the corner of the window. It is probably the most obvious thing to see, but no one else seems to look at it that way.

2. Everyone who gets upset at me for my feelings knows how ridiculous they are and how wrong I am for having the feelings I get. They know I'm wrong and messed up and oversensitive and the man that offered to help didn't know me well enough to know that the feelings I had were wrong.

The man left me with those thoughts. And I remember also thinking that Han wouldn't look for me, much less find me, and that he might not even notice if I had left. I didn't really want him to find me at this point, because I knew how upset he would be if he found me crying. But I wanted him to at least look for me.

He did find me. He found me and he hugged me and tried to get me to stop crying and told me he wasn't mad and he was sorry for earlier. All I did was cry more and tell him that I was sorry for ruining the night and that he should go and enjoy the rest of the concert. He did go back to the concert, but made me go with him.

The rest of the concert was good, until the ride home. Everyone had said they wanted to go to McDonalds except our youth pastor, who wanted to go to Burger King. Kind was going to McDonalds. I didn't want to be around Kind. Not then. So I said, "Hey, we should go to Burger King to keep our pastor company." So we went into Burger King, and when the youth pastor came in, guess who was with him? Kind. She had talked the whole night about wanting McDonalds, but as soon as Han and I went to Burger King, what did she suddenly want? This did only bad things to my mood.

Han and I sat by each other on the ride home. He talked to me a little, but he talked to the pastor and to Kind more. The radio was on, and I sang a little, but only to myself. I had my head on his shoulder, and I looked at him a lot, hoping he'd feel my eyes and look back and smile. He didn't really. But it's silly to think he'd know to do that.

I cried when I took him home, I think. I can't remember why. All I remember is him going inside and telling me that he couldn't handle much more of me crying, that he just couldn't. That didn't make it any better.

So, along with at Good Morning Midnight shirt and cd, I was left with this:

Would you tell someone with cancer to just get better? Then why would you tell someone with depression to just cheer up? Do you think I enjoy this? I don't. If it were that easy to just 'be happy,' then believe me, I would be. You don't have to tell me.

I love Han to pieces. I do. But I've become more fragile and he's become less gentle. I don't know what to do anymore.

I've always believed that if I had an incurable disease, I would cut off ties with people I knew and cared about. Because I didn't want to upset them when everything fell to pieces. But for some reason, I now have depression, something I can't get rid of, and I can't bring myself to get rid of my friendships. I feel like I have to. I have to stop making everyone miserable with my misery. But I can't. I want to run off without any warning or explanation and leave them alone, because they'd certainly be better off without me. But I can't. I care too much about them, especially about Han, and I also don't have enough money.

I did run away, though. Last night I dropped Han off at his house a little early and went to the park. Where I cried. This was in part because I didn't want to cry around him. But once I got there, it was largely because I wanted someone to come and find me. No, here's what it really was (to me) :

There was a princess suffering a great tribulation. She was all by herself. She had tried many times to end her suffering and her situation, but she couldn't do it by herself. Her only hope anymore was for someone to do it for her. But no one wanted to rescue her. She was the princess who wasn't worth rescuing.

So eventually I got off the swingset and walked back to my car. I started to heat it up and I kept crying. And lo and behold, a car pulled up. Yeah... it was a cop car. Telling me that no one was supposed to be in the park past 11 p.m. The only person willing to get me out of the park was someone who has to because they are paid to.

But, it is late. Good night, everyone. And good morning, midnight.

<3 o.

We Interrupt This Program For An Emergency

2009-01-21T16:22:00.003-05:00

FREAK OUT.

I am in a panic.

And unless you have some helpful medical knowledge, maybe you shouldn't read this.

A few days ago, one of my breasts started getting really sore in a particular area. I figured that since I was not too far from my period, it was probably just tenderness due to that. When it got sorer, I thought that maybe I'd bruised it when I was wrestling / tickle-fighting with Han a few days ago. In the shower last night, though, I realized that a spot right about my nipple was red, and also that right around that red area, it also felt kind of stiff. And it was hurting a lot. Before, it only hurt when it got bumped or touched, but now it hurts most of the time.

Doing my research, I thought it was a "breast lump," which are usually signs of a cyst or cancer. You are supposed to see a doctor if it doesn't disappear after your next menstrual cycle, so I was going to wait a week or two before I saw a doctor. I don't know what the "lump" is supposed to be if it disappears after your period, but I don't think it really matters because "lumps" aren't usually visible and they are usually painless.

Other signs of cancer are soreness and a change in skin, like redness, cracking, dimpling, etc. However, I think it could also be a "breast infection," which generally occurs near the nipple, and is red and sore. The drawing they have on medical sites shows a breast that is much redder than mine, but there are only a few photos that I've been able to find, and their redness doesn't look as wide-spread.

So I'm leaning towards infection. The NEXT problem is, however, that these infections most commonly occur in women who are breastfeeding, and I most definitely am not. Apparently, getting this infection when you aren't can be a sign of breast cancer.

I'm not convinced I have cancer, no. But another thing: The breast that has this red soreness also occasionally has an inverted nipple. Well, apparently 2% of the women in America have at least one inverted nipple, and they aren't dangerous or anything, but for some reason they are in some way associated with breast cancer. That is, as I understand it, if your nipple starts to be inverted when it wasn't before, then that could be a sign of breast cancer. Now, my nipple doesn't do it all the time, and I don't know how long it's been like this. I only noticed it in the last year or two, but that doesn't mean much. And an inverted nipple is not a sure-fire sign of cancer.

However, the soreness, redness of skin, inverted nipple, and unlikeliness of the infection when not breastfeeding are enough to make me worry.

So the problem is: What do I do? Do I wait until after my period to see if it goes away? Do I go see a doctor immediately? I don't want to go to my doctor. For one thing, I don't trust him thoroughly, and for another thing, he's a male. So if/when I go to the doctor, I'd rather go to a female doctor, and that means finding one. Do I do this on my own? Do I talk to my mom? This is really embarassing, awkward and personal, and my mom and I aren't that close, but I may need her help with insurance, and I don't know if I'll know how to find an intelligent female doctor on my own. And then there's always the possibility, faint thought it may seem, that I won't need a doctor. But is that really realistic?

I've always thought really hard about my emotional, mental, and spiritual health. When I have problems, I always think about how they might be attributed to problems in one of those areas. I've never considered my physical health so seriously, aside from my migraines. And now that I've started seriously looking at my physical health, I wonder how much effect a serious physical problem might have on my mental/emotional state, or how it might effect my behavior.

I really don't know what to do about it. I don't want to talk to Mom or see a doctor, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to. I'm also really worried that it will be cancerous.

. . .

UUUUUUUUUUUUURGH. ><

<3 o.

WICKED (part I)

2009-01-18T13:22:00.004-05:00

A couple of years ago, I went to go see the musical WICKED in Chicago with my father. It was an incredibly exciting experience, as I had been obsessed with the show and its music (but not the book) for months beforehand. It was thrilling ang magical and even better than I'd imagined. And, like many people, I got from it this message: Things aren't always what they seem. There are two sides to every story.

This past Friday, I went to see WICKED again, this time with my whole family. It's a close call, but this performance may have been even better than the first one I saw. G(a)linda was even funnier than she had been, Elphaba's singing was perfect, and I was seated closer so I could see everything better.

But what was so interesting is that I learned something I hadn't understood before: Not only are there two sides to every story, there are two points to every story.

As I understand it, most people take the lesson, "Don't jump to conclusions" from WICKED. But there is another lesson that is stated even more clearly, multiple times, within the musical. Here are a few examples:
"Are people born wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?" (Glinda)
"The truth is not fact or reason. The truth is simply what everyone agrees on!" (The Wizard)
"They call me wonderful. So I am wonderful!" (The Wizard)
"Alright, enough, so be it! So be it then. Let all Oz be agreed, I'm wicked through and through!" (Elphaba)

The point? A person is what other people make them out to be. This is evident throughout the musical. The Animals, who have the ability to talk, lose the ability to talk simply because they are pressured and told from all sides that aren't to talk anymore. As the pressure increases, and speaking out is made illegal, the Animals slowly start to turn from Animals with the ability to speak into animals without. Elphaba, who always wanted to do good and to help those in need, has the label of "wicked" pasted to her, and so all of Oz thinks her wicked. Once all of her attempts to do good are thwarted by the assumption of her wickedness, she gives into her identity. The Wizard is probably the character who makes this point the most clear. He sings an entire song about how reality is really just what people think it is. For instance: "Elphaba, where I'm from, we believe all sorts of things that aren't true. We call it "history." A man's called a traitor... or a liberator. A rich man's a theif, or philanthropist. Is one a crusader? Or ruthless invader? It's all in which label is able to persist." It sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? But it's kind of true.

And I think people do tend to become what they are told they are. In the song "Sensitive" by Jewel, she says, "I have this theory that if we're told we're bad, then that's the only idea we'll ever have."

But we all have the ability to make our own choices, don't we? And we all have to be responsible for our own actions. But let's be honest - when people have the freedom to do what they want, they tend to imitate each other. People are influenced to no end by other people. While, yes, we have the physical ability to make our own choices, I think that we often lack the emotional ability to do so. If everyone is telling you that you are one thing - wicked, crazy, shallow, wonderful, fun - then you'll most like start to believe it. After all, there is nothing to prove them wrong. And if everyone agrees, then they must be right - right?

On the other hand, there were a few characters who were able to break out of their box. Glinda eventually, after losing her best friend and the love of her life, was able to overcome her pretty, perky, pitiful label to confront the Wizard and his cohorts and get them out of power. Fiyero realized that he wasn't as "genuinely selfish" or "deeply shallow" as he thought he was, and began to act on his care for other people and things.

So is a person made who they are by their natural character, or by the influence of other people on their character?

<3 o.

p.s. : There is something else that WICKED made me think of that I will write about later. It is a little more personal.

Let's Talk About Spaceships

2009-01-12T23:14:00.003-05:00

or anything except you and me, okay? Okay.
- Say Hi To Your Mom

That is basically how I feel about this little situation I've someone been dragged into. Long story short: I have made a mistake. A really big mistake, and, no, I don't intend to share it. I won't even tell my best friend, so I see no reason to stick it on a public blog and risk anyone finding it.

So, moving on to the "spaceships" (that is to say, what we are going to talk about instead) ...

. . .

Problem. I don't have any spaceships. I have tried to write about multiple things here: fairy tales, Swan Lake, school, prom, music. Everything leads back to my problem: Han.

Han is a problem. I can't stand being away from him. But it's almost torture to be with him. Too much has happened and been happening for me to issue a full update. Let me think of a good way to put it.

Han and I had a relationship. It was a good relationship that we had built over time, and like anything that is built, it had a foundation. I don't know what exactly that foundation was, but I'll hazard a guess that it was a mixture of happiness, trust, and security. Well, over the last several weeks, the foundation seems to have started to crack. And continued to crack. Han would appear to want to maintain the relationship; however, he seems unwilling to fix the foundation. I suspect that he doesn't notice how damaged it is, or how necessary.

I could give you reasons and examples of how the foundation started it's cracking process, but I'll spare you. No, I'll spare myself. I don't even want to think about it, much less write about it. Do you know why? Because to write about it is to confirm it. It is to give the problem substance, an existence. Whereas, if it just stays in my brain, it could at some point vanish. That isn't the point. The point is this: Han has convinced me, multiple times, that we are over, done, finished, through. He has convinced me an equal number of times that we're destined, fated, and will be back together. So which do I believe?

Today he hugged me. In (semi) public. That is, on our way out of the classroom at school. At school! How long has it been since he showed an ounce of feeling for me at school? He also muttered that he loved me at school two or three times. And he drew a heart with a band-aid on it on my hand during class. Earlier tonight, I gave him a ride to the bowling alley, and on the way to the car, he had his arm around me and held me to him. He held me at his side. It felt so right!

In fact, there were only two discouraging things today: 1. Generally, when I go to pick Han up for school, he is still asleep. We usually have extra time, so I'll lay down on his bed and also go to sleep. And he always will eventually work his arms around me and pull me closer, or at least put an arm over or around me. We did this while we were dating, and we continued it after we broke up. Who knows why? Because we're idiots. Today, though, he didn't do that. I didn't even get to sleep because it bothered me so much that he didn't reach for me. 2. He's at the bowling alley and I have no way of contacting him. Okay, call me psycho. Keep in mind the last two times he went bowling: The one time, he hung up on me twice, as well as lied to his mom, to go bowling with Cheer (the girl who contributed largely, though not entirely intentionally, to our split and my great unhappiness - she was also played by Han nearly as much as I was in those weeks). The second time was at bowling practice, at which I will occasionally visit and watch, he insisted I leave and that he didn't like me watching (despite that we have bowled together before, and frequently), UNTIL everyone else had left - then he called my cell phone when I was on my way home, insisting he hadn't meant for me to GO and to come back, because everyone left. So, I'm really not thrilled about his being at the bowling alley without my being able to contact him.

Which is funny, because, you know, I really have no claim on him. Technically. And technically, he has no claim on me, either, but he is insanely possessive. If he so much suspects a guy is looking at me or interested in me, it's muttered threats and death glares. Don't you dare encroach on his unofficial territory. But, remember, little o., that don't you dare tell him what to do, because he is his own person! And he can do what he likes! And, by the way, when he's on the phone with you and he says that he "has to go," it really means that he's going to go, probably because he wants to. And don't protest - respect his wish to get off the phone. No matter how upset you are or how badly you need to talk with him. News Flash : I respect men who earn it, not demand it.

Don't consider him too big a jerk. He has not been so psycho of late. It's ironic, though, that he says we'll go back out once I'm happy again, since he hates it when I'm sad or I look sad - yet he is the main reason I am sad. I have never had any doubt before this that he was my prince - but a prince doesn't insist that the princess makes herself safe before he'll take her as his own. Most commonly, a prince will bring her to safety. Han used to do that. He's always hated to see me cry, but he used to do something about it. That is, he used to do something other than tell me to stop and sigh in an annoyed manner.

It's clear that he can't really handle me. Obviously, I stress him out, and he can't take care of me like he used to. And still he refuses to leave me alone. I've given him many an opportunity. I've told him to take the ring back. I've told him to just stay away because it will make his life so much easier. He simply won't do it.

I know that, up until now, I've made Han out to be a total monster. But he's not. It's said that you never know what you've got till it's gone, and I never knew the honesty of that statement. When we were going out, I tried to make a list of 101 things that I loved about Han. It took me a week or two to get 50 original reasons. Today, I started a list of things that I miss about him, and I got over 50 in less than a class period. And I have more in my head.

The truth is, I'm the monster. The harder I try to fix something, the worse it gets. The more I love a person, the worse I hurt them. Is there a person I've encountered that I haven't injured? Doubtful.

Sadly, there is no conclusion to this. So much for a spaceship. However, I suppose I have avoided confessing to my horrible mistake, although it was a narrow escape.

<3 o.

Already?

2009-01-01T01:54:00.002-05:00

It's 2009. Congratulations, we have survived another year, only to take on a new one head-on.

It's times like these when I think, "Another year gone. Another year wasted." Because what have I accomplished this year? Nothing. I don't even remember last year's resolution, and I can tell you now that, whatever other goals I have set for myself throughout the year, have been abandoned and forgotten.

And to add to this feeling of doom-and-gloom, I am also facing the feeling of having lost two and a half years of my life with Han. Really wasted? It's hard to tell. Some people believe that everything happens for a reason. I don't. I believe that something good can come from everything that happens -- can. Not necessarily will. But I don't believe that everything happens for the sole purpose of that one thing that could happen as a result. Han still insists that we'll be back together, and soon. I've made it clear to him that he's going to have to work for it. Do I mean that? No. But does he know that? I hope not.

When Han and I first met, I had a very pessimistic, negative attitude towards men and love. I didn't want to date anyone. Ever. But especially that year -- that had been my New Year's Resolution that year. To stay single. Well, Han messed that one up. September of that year we were going out. I couldn't say no to him -- and I haven't been able to say no to him since.

That isn't saying it was easy for him to get me. I was not open to the idea of men at all, much less dating one, and he knew that. It took him a long time to befriend me, much less get up the nerve to ask me to do the one thing he knew I didn't really believe in -- to be with someone. When I say that Han has to work for it, I mean that I have a very similar attitude now. Men are cruel and manipulative and relationships always end badly. Han is going to have to start nearly completely over. He is going to have to work in order to regain trust and and access to love.

But I digress. I have gotten off-subject. In addition to all the confusion already in my life, we now have this: What is my resolution? Well, that depends on what I want, doesn't it? What do I want to be like? What do I want to do? What do I want? And I don't know. I don't know what I want.

I have wasted yet another year of my life. An entire year. And what can I do this year to ensure that I don't do it again? Little, I fear, other than to keep in mind that I don't want to waste it. And there -- I didn't have a resolution before, but I have found it now. I resolve to not waste my year. And how is that? After all, it is my philosophy, isn't it? The one I mentioned when I first started this blog? "Don't do nothing." So, I still don't know what I want to be like or what I want to do or anything else that I want. But I do know what I don't want. I don't want to waste another year of my life.

I could write more, but I am tired. Good night / morning, everyone. :] I hope that your New Year will be the beginning of something good.

<3 o.

The True and Outstanding Adventures (Part II)

2008-12-28T15:10:00.006-05:00

This is one of my favorite covers for the book, "The True and Outstanding Adventures of the Hunt Sisters." It is very similar to mine, except that the title is placed above the girl on my copy.

Please Note: This entry will make much more sense if you have already read the entry entitled, "The True and Outstanding Adventures." Take notice that this is titled "(Part II)".

One of the things I love about this book so much is the cover. The little girl, in her pink princess dress, with a crown on her head, skipping across a bright blue sky... waving a sword. And happy. As if princesses are supposed to wave swords. As if she is supposed to be waving a sword. It is yet another personification of the fighting spirit. It is ridiculous to fight a losing battle. It is ridiculous for a princess to wave a sword. And yet, some do it anyway, because they believe what they are fighting for.

It reminds me of the games I played when I was young, and the differences between those games and the games Emily played. I don't mean like boardgames, I mean make-believe. I only know what games Emily played because I read a paper she wrote for a class regarding the effects of childhood games and make-believe on the person that played them.

Example: Emily often played the role of "damsel in distress" when she was younger. She was the princess who had been captured or cursed or whatever, and basically waited for the prince to save her. Now, I don't know Emily well enough to figure out what kind of effect this may have had on her, if any, nor how strong the effect is. But according to Emily's paper, she has trouble making decisions and doing things for herself. She doesn't like being her own advocate. She is uncomfortable being "her own hero," so to speak.

I was rarely, if ever, the damsel in distress. I was the hero's sidekick. I was the victim who was making a great escape. I was the princess waving a sword over her head. What can I say? I was kick-butt. And I've developed a fighting spirit, I assume, because of it. So much so that I would say I don't know when to stop fighting. And when it comes to the point that fighting is futile and I think I may need to stop fighting, I don't know how. I really don't. That is when I turn into Emily. If I have to stop fighting, I can't make my own decisions or do things for myself. Because all I know how to do is struggle and fight and push and make an effort. To stop doing that is like to stop being me. But sometimes, fighting just isn't what you are supposed to do.

Like the princess with the sword, I don't always know my place. Don't you know that you, a princess, aren't supposed to hold a sword, much less run about waving it like a magic wand? Don't you realize that as a princess, you shouldn't fight, but sit demurely on the side and let things play out, hoping that they do so to your advantage? Don't I know that fighting a losing battle is going to cause more pain than good?

Maybe I do. But I just don't know how to not fight. I don't know how to not hope. I don't know how to stop futile fighting, and I don't know how to let go of false hope. So convention says I need to do both of those things, but my consciousness says that forcing myself to do so would be a defiance of my nature, painful, and bad. I don't know who is right. I don't know what to do with my fighting nature and my love of hope.

A friend from church, whom I shall call Sound, told me this. It is something that gives the princess the right to wave the sword and gives me a reason to fight and hope. :

He says that if you are naturally something, it is because you are supposed to be that thing. If you are naturally stubborn, then you are supposed to be stubborn. You weren't given your stubbornness so you could fight it down and force yourself into submission. You weren't given your intense need to stand up so that it's hard for you to sit down. You are made something to be something. The key is to know where to use it. Are you going to stubbornly fight to keep him, or are you going to stubbornly fight for the dignity that he is destroying? Are you going to stubbornly fight to get him back, or are you going to stubbornly fight to keep yourself as strong and self-reliant as you were before this happened? As strong and sure of yourself as you naturally are? As you are most likely meant to be?

<3 o.

p.s. : Sound's words were much shorter and to the point. Parts of what I included were the things that went unspoken, but that I felt were very much what he was trying to get me to realize.

The True and Outstanding Adventures

2008-12-28T14:42:00.006-05:00

"The True and Outstanding Adventures of the Hunt Sisters" is a grand and magnificent book. It follows the story of Olivia Hunt as she tries desperately to keep together her unravelling life, and her sister, Madeline Hunt, who is fighting vainly and ferociously against the leukemia and treatments that are wearing her closer to death. Olivia Hunt is somewhat of a pessimist, but she is also a fighter. Maddie, as Madeline is called, is an optimist, and a very idealistic one at that. This drives Olivia insane. Olivia is willing to fight where she thinks it might work, or where Maddie shames her into action, but she does not believe in helping everyone that she can or fighting needlessly or anything romantic like that.

Olivia is also working, throughout this book, on a movie adaptation of Don Quixote. Now, I have never read Don Quixote, but here is what I gather from what I've read about it: Don Quixote is basically crazy and reads nothing but books about chivalry and knighthood. He decides to become a knight, and he picks this random farmer, Sancho Panza, to be his squire. So they ride around, and Sancho takes care of Quixote while he is doing crazy things, like attacking windmills and freeing criminals -- all for the sake of love and good. At the end of the book, Quixote is dying, and he renounces all of his actions and beliefs -- about heroism, chivalry, and whatnot. He says that he knew everything he was doing was nonsense and that he had done it anyway for the sake of those good things, but now he was renouncing it. Sancho can't stand to hear Quixote say this, because, even though the things Quixote did were crazy, and somewhat pointless, Sancho has become infected with the ideals of heroism, bravery, and doing good. So even after Quixote has died, and renounced his own knighthood, those beliefs live on in Sancho Panza.

And that is kind of what happens with Olivia and Maddie. After Maddie dies, Olivia finds a note from her that says Maddie knew all along that she couldn't beat the cancer, and that she knew it was a helpless cause. She said she fought anyway, for the sake of fighting, and for being brave, and for others. Olivia, despite being a pessimist, starts to realize the point of fighting a losing battle -- not for the victory, but for the qualities you stand for in your fight.

I have a point. I'm getting there.

I live in reality. I'm a pessimist by nature. Bad things happen -- bad things are about the only thing that happen. I am convinced. But, I was raised on fairy tales, and I love them. I am an optimistic pessimist. I believe that everything is, by nature, evil. But I have this weak, pulsing, thing inside me that hopes that some things might defy their evil nature and make good.

It's a false hope. As with this situation with Han, the hope doesn't belong there. No matter if he says he loves me, no matter if I love him, no matter how hard I fight for hope of fixing this -- it won't happen. It's futile to fight, in this case.

And yet, and yet... there's that hope. That naturally shiny thing that the fairy tales have carved into me, and that little silver life line that Han has thrown to me by saying that he would like to come back to me and that he still loves me. The pessimist in me knows that that is probably not true. But that isn't enough to severe that life line. Because I hope what he said is true.

So is it time for Don Quixote to lay down his spear and set aside his armor and renounce his battles for love and goodness and the victory of all that is right? Or does he continue battling to keep the hope of those things alive?

<3 o.

Whine A Little, You'll Feel Better

2008-12-13T00:33:00.003-05:00

Or at least, I will.

After this, I'm going to try not to complain so much. Only talk about things that I think about. Or think about things to get other thoughts off my mind... or something.

I don't want to go into the details of what's been happening. It's a messy, dramatic, confusing, painful business, and I don't want to think about it.

My body keeps shaking. I'm a little cold, but I can't imagine that my whole body should shake from being "a little cold" when I am sitting directly under the hot air vent. My stomach hurts a lot; almost as if there is a lot of pressure on or in it, although there isn't. I have no appetite, which is bad, because I am currently 95 pounds, and I need one. An appetite, I mean. My forehead feels sore and bruised from thrashing it against the bathroom wall during lunch.

I just realized that the ring of Han's that I'm holding on to is on my left ring finger. I thought I had it on my right. I made the deliberate decision to keep it on my right because of our recent complications. I have no recollection of its transition to the other hand.

I keep thinking or doing things and then in the midst of them wonder why I would do that. If I see much of my flesh exposed, I imagine it being sliced open. My skin is just so unmarred, it seems only natural when I think of it that there should be a cut of some kind. When I realize that I'm thinking about that, I am horrified. Today, I made a list of ways to die and all the pros and cons of these methods. I was reading it over, and I realized that it was a horrible and morbid thing to do, and I didn't even know why I had done it. Sometimes ideas just pop into my head. When I am alone on a staircase, I have the urge/idea: "Throw yourself down that." If I am driving on a country road and there are telephone poles, I get the thought: "Hit one." Immediatley after these things pop into my mind, I respond with, "What? That's a stupid idea, why would I do, or even think that? That's weird." I ignore it and go on. But that's getting increasingly harder.

I don't just yell at and cry at my reflections anymore. Now we argue. They tell me what to do. I tell them to shut up. They tell me not to be stupid and to listen to them because they know what they are talking about. I tell them to leave me alone. Someone usually tells the other that they're ugly. She is though. I often find myself that I'm glad I don't look like any of them. And then I remember that I do. And that's pretty upsetting, because they don't look very happy.

<3 o.

You Know There's Something Wrong When...

2008-12-09T22:02:00.004-05:00

1. You miss school Thursday and Friday, have a Snow Day on Monday, and return to school Tuesday to discover that the outline for a research paper (for which the topic you have yet to choose) is due on Wednesday. You have a powerpoint presentation to finish over Vienna, Austria that you also need to have done by Wednesday. First hour Wednesday, you have an Econ test and you didn't bring your Econ book home to study.

2. You cry a lot for stupid reasons. Reasons like you have a big nose or that you'll probably never be able to write a book. And what sort of reason is that? If you want to write a book, then write a book. You can hardly cry because you'll never be able to write a book unless you're terminally ill or completely incapable of writing. Otherwise, what are you crying for? Nonetheless, you cry about it. Not because you want to, or you choose to. But thinking about these things makes you cry, and you just can't stop thinking about them. You really don't have a choice.

3. You cry a lot for no reason. You're just sitting there reading or working on a paper and all of a sudden you become conscious of the fact that you are crying. Upon further investigation, you can find no trigger for this phenomenon. No pain, no irritant (emotional or otherwise), no reason at all. And yet, you are completely incapable of stopping yourself - and then the fact that you can't stop yourself from crying for no reason at all seems to you a very good reason to be very upset, and that only makes you cry more.

4. You yell at your reflection in one mirror, and cry to the one in the other. As if they were people. As if they were different people, with different personalities. As if one reflection were to blame for whatever is upsetting you, and as if the other reflection is able to make you feel better. And then you apologize to them - for being insensitive and a burden. As if they care!

5. You don't enjoy anything. Your favorite past-times go unfinished if and when you call forth the energy to start them - which isn't very often, because it takes nearly all of your energy just to drag yourself out of bed in the morning. This is even worse if you have a reputation of being an energetic person. Five hours of sleep? Eight hours? Fourteen? Regardless, you wake with the same feeling: Complete and utter, unshakeable exhaustion. Apathy. Carelessness. The feelings drag on through things you are usually so dedicated to; art, sports, school, friends, church, music, whatever. All of a sudden, none of those things seem to matter very much. Or, if they do, you simply don't have the will to deal with them, because they aren't really enjoyable, they are a burden now.

6. Your way of coping with these difficulties is mostly thinking of self-mutilation. Attempts to find a way to hurt yourself without any physical damage, outside sign of self-inflicted pain, or hurt to your friends. You don't want to do any real, physical damage. You don't want to end up in a hospital, because you don't want this to be public. You don't want your friends to know, because you don't want them to have any feelings of confusion or guilt. Self-inflicted emotional abuse? Does that exist? You could take your migraine painkiller every day -- that might fix the problem all together. The doctor gave you a pretty high dosage; the medicine makes you pretty loopy. But, no, that's illegal.

7. No one believes you. According to everyone you take the time or energy to confess this to, you are a drama queen, you are over-reacting, you are crazy -- but you're fine, and nothing is wrong with you! You just need to cheer up and get over it -- and if you don't, then these people (whom, you decided after much internal mental conflict, you trusted) are going to have to leave or stop talking or walk away if you don't -- because they can't handle it. Because your emotional fits are too much for them to handle. Yes, your tears, your fits, your stress, and your all-around madness is too much for these outsiders to handle, but you -- the person coping with having all of it running around inside your skull -- are expected to "cheer up" and "get over it." As if you have a choice. As if you choose to cry compulsively. As if that's something you take pride in. As if screaming at your mirror is enjoyable. As if it's comforting that the only that comforts you is the idea of hurting yourself. Yeah. I bet you totally love it. I bet that you choose that, and I bet you wouldn't change it if you could.

<3 o.

p.s. : My mother doesn't know much, if any of this, but I've told her that I need "help," and we are in the process of finding me a psychologist.

A Room Without Books Is Like A Body Without A Soul

2008-12-07T16:01:00.002-05:00

-Marcus Tullius Cicero

Have I ever been more content, especially in the last several weeks, than I have been while roaming the shelves of our school's library? Probably not. I can think of very few things that bring me more joy than to select a book not-quite-at-random (I do have my own ill-defined standards) and to read some lines, paragraphs, or pages. I also like to take a look at its history; how often has it been checked out, when, and by whom? I am always sad when I find a book that has never been checked out. How sad! Sometimes, if I find a check-out card that is fairly full (of stamps, varied handwriting with different colored ink, and lots of names), or has a familiar name (such as that of a teacher's), or hasn't been checked out in a while (but was quite popular in 1978), I will steal the card. I suppose that, to these books, I am something like the Grim Reaper. What are these cards to these books? Their memories, their souls, their pasts? Are they grieved to be parted with the cards? Are they looking forward to a new card? Or are they just books who could really care less about the piece of cardstock in the pocket glued in their cover?

Whatever.

You know I love books, and I would never intentionally hurt their feelings. Books are the only reliable escape for me and so many others. Movies are good, yes, but they are over so quickly, and there are some things that you can capture in a book that you just can't get in a movie. It is difficult to explain - but if you have ever read such books as Wuthering Heights or The Thirteenth Tale or any book that delves deeper than just what happens, then you can understand. With a movie, it is hard to capture any more than just what happens. In a book, there are no such limits. Your mind isn't limited to just what happens. If you are lucky enough to have found a good book, you are consumed by what happens, why it happens, who these people are, why they are who they are, their interactions, their feelings, thoughts, questions, uncertainties... You can become completely lost in just one character of a good book, nevermind the all-involving story!

I love the characters. Every time I open a book, I can't wait to meet the characters. I am always looking for one to connect with, and once I do, I emulate them. I think I can honestly say that my personality is a mesh of the characters I have met, adored, and mimicked throughout my life. My stubbornness and fits of passion? Catherine Earnshaw/Linton. My ability to be manipulated and attraction to mystery? Christine Daae. My desire to shock and surprise and be strong? Felicity (Gemma Doyle Trilogy). My belief that you should always help if you can? Samantha (American Girls). May I point at that there are some contradictions in some of those qualities? That would account for my confusion. I am constantly trying to decide: Is it more desirable to be like this character or like this character? In each book, each character is presented as the most desirable... none of them are presented objectively. So trying to emulate all of them is a very confusing and self-contradicting process. Not even just self-contradicting, but other-character-contradicting.

Being wild and without inhibitions is intimidating, but intriguing. Being gentle and generous is defenseless, but offers an opportunity to be defended. Pessimism is unromantic in its negativity but romantic in its possibility to be denied and defeated. Optimism is unromantic in its lack of need, but romantic in its endless joy. I have spent my entire life reading, absorbing traits from all over the specturm, and observing their advantages. I want to be both ends of all spectrums - I can't be - but in any situation, I am instinctively moved to be both. This is confusing in oh-so-many ways. Not only am I confused now by what I want to be, by my lack of knowing which is better to be, but I am also confused by the fact that I don't know what I really am. Without the influence of any books or characters, where on these spectrums would I fall all on my own? I think it's too late to ever know for sure.

I have quoted Muriel Rukeyser before, in August, as having said, "The world is up of stories, not atoms." I want to remind you of the truth of that. I, for one, am certainly made up more of stories than atoms! I surely am not the only one. But, if I have to be made of anything other than atoms, stories are surely the best thing.

I have to admit that writing this post while sitting anywhere other than a library feels a tad bit like blasphemy; however, I have yet to encounter a library that will allow me to access my blog, and so I will simply have to cope.

<3>

For Me? : Acknowledging Problems

2008-12-04T15:01:00.007-05:00

My dear friend Elsa has recently discovered a blog, which we have both added to our sidebar jiggers, called "I Wrote This For You." It is a collection of photographs taken mostly of common things with uncommon lighting or perspective, and each photograph is given a statement. Sometimes the statement is clearly connected to the content of the photograph, sometimes it is not. Here is one statement from the blog.

"Sometimes it feels like every song on the radio was written just for you.
Sometimes, they are."

I don't listen to the radio, but I do listen to my iPod on shuffle a lot - and it is nearly the same thing, because there is a lot of music on there that I get from friends and relatives that I am not familiar with.

Music is a strange thing. Sometimes, you can go years listening to a song, thinking nothing of it. And whether you physically skip it or not, your brain skips over it as soon as you recognize the first few notes, because your brain knows what is going to follow, and that there is no point to it, and it sees no point in listening to it. But then later, for some reason, your brain doesn't skip the song, and you listen to it - and it seems that the words must have changed, because all at once, not only is it a song that you can relate to, it's a song that you need.

These songs are magical things.

I have encountered one such song recently. I do not know its name or who sings it. It is known to me only as "Track 03" in the mix "Good Music for EmilyBean." The words that I either didn't notice or didn't understand before are the following:

"Is this the good, the beautiful and true?
Can't see the battle when it's right in front of you
In the mirror, I know a weary heart when I see one"

Obviously, that isn't the entire song, but that's the beginning, the part that probably got my attention, and the part that, according to "I Wrote This For You," was probably written for me.

I have an obsession with being "strong." Not physically, but emotionally/mentally. I don't know how many people are aware of that. However, when I have a problem or problems, I often deny their existence, or their severity, or the need for help in dealing with them - not just to others, but to myself as well. I don't like relying or being dependent on others - that requires making one's self vulnerable, which I consider dangerous. Because of this, I try to deny that I need other people. I try not to let many people know too much about me or how I feel about certain things.

So, because problems, severity of problems, and the solving of problems go ignored in my life... they've gotten bigger. Because I've been denying their existence, I "can't see the battle when it's right in front of me." I don't allow people to help me with my problems as often as I should - I don't even allow people as near to maybe might be best - I'm tired of dealing with everything mostly on my own. But I'm so in denial, I don't "know a weary heart when I see one."

I'm obsessed with weakness and not being weak. I hate to cry, especially when there is a chance I might be seen. It is almost imposssible for me to cry during the day, when there is light and I am more visible. If someone has actually seen me cry, it was probably a big deal - Either I was very, very upset, or I trust them very, very much.

I am not really sure why I hate the idea of weakness so much. Certainly, I don't want to risk being hurt. I don't want to be vulnerable because I don't want to be injured. I don't want to be close because I don't want to be abandoned. But I also wonder if my small size has something to do with it? Do I feel weaker - more at risk and more vulnerable - partially because of my size? Am I trying to prove something, maybe? That I can still be strong emotionally and mentally even if I can't be strong physically?

Or am I just trying to blame a problem I have on something that I can't control, when the problem is something that I can fix and should be fixing? Like I do with many of my problems, as a way to deny their existence, their severity, and their need for a solution?

<3 o.

p.s. : I found the song. It's called 'Perfectly' by Judd and Maggie, I believe.

Bermuda Triangle Getaway

2008-11-10T20:14:00.005-05:00

That was the name of the play that my drama class put on.

Mrs. H has never come closer to cancelling one of her class's plays... but I'm pretty sure she's never been much happier with the results of going on with the show.

Our class (not just our drama class, but the entire senior class of 2009) does not work well together. We were simply not coming together. It wasn't working very well. Monday rehearsals were a nightmare. With a week left, we had a girl come to practice high and with no lines memorized... it wasn't a very promising night. Our publicity pitch was something along the lines of, "What does a brain-washed pilot, an alien in disguise, a 50-year-old boy scout, five beauty pageant contestants, and a hypochondriac have in common?" Well, the teachers' running joke was that none of them knew their lines.

Somehow, we pulled it off. Not only did we pull it off, but it was good. Friday night was near perfect... Saturday night would have been... Until Tony missed the mat upon jumping off the stage into the orchestra pit and broke his foot.

He had to go to the Emergency Room. He was shaking from the pain. He tried to go back onto the stage, but it didn't work. We improvised around it. My character was a wannabe cannibal - what else were we gonna do? Of course, when it came right down to it, I had to have eaten him. There was no other way around his sudden disappearance.

Most people couldn't tell that we had broken away from the script. I should have been voted best actress for that improve - it was stressful! I didn't though, Julia did. She deserved it. Her character was a lizard-obsessed scientist who falls in love with an alien. Halfway through our Friday-night performance, she overheard a few graduated students talking about how she was the only one who in the cast who couldn't act - so I'm glad she won it! I knew the group who was talking about her - they are real jerks. IN YOUR FACE, SLIMEBALLS!

Seth won best actor, naturally. He played a pilot named Jack who was brainwashed into thinking he was Dr. Evil from the Austin Powers movie (which I have never seen). For the second act of Saturday night, he went gangster Dr. Evil, and it was hard for anyone to keep a straight face onstage. The only competition he might have had for best actor was Andrew, who played two parts with a total of four roles, because each of his parts was a person in disguise. He was an alien in disguise as a pirate and a rockstar in disguise as a hick from Iowa... it was pretty hysterical.

And Tony won Stole-The-Show funny, even though he wasn't even in the last half of Saturday's performance! YES, he was THAT funny. He was a copilot brainwashed to think he was Mini-Me from the Austin Powers movies... and every time he came onto stage, he was in a different random costume. A turkey, an old lady in a bathrobe, a white leather coat and an afro, a wedding dress... and all the time, he was jumping around like some kind of over-hyper monkey. Which is why he is now on crutches.

And we did make Mrs. H cry... but we thought we'd make her cry because we'd utterly fail. We thought we'd skip five pages of dialogue, or an entire scene or something. She cried because she couldn't believe we'd actually pulled it off so well - or that we'd covered so well for Anthony!

Take that, teachers. What does a brainwashed pilot, an alien in disguise, a 50-year-old boy scout, five beauty pageant contestants, and a hypochondriac all have in common? Uh, we all ROCK.

<3 o.

A Post Which Does Not Readily Suggest A Title

2008-11-04T17:06:00.005-05:00

Today is November 4, 2008 - It is election day.

That is not relevent to this post in any way, other than the fact that I got little to no sleep last night, thus ensuring that I will probably be more honest than I should be while typing this, and will probably regret it later. But that was the point of this blog was it not? To give me a place to put the things that I would regret later.

Let's talk about Senor. I care about him. I don't mean kisses and snuggles and marriage and whispers and giggles and blushing love... I mean that I care about him, and that I hate seeing him suffer, and I really want to keep him from pain. I don't believe that any of my feelings for him qualify as romantic, but I'll be honest - I want desperately to hug him. I constantly feel the urge to put my arms around him and rest a hand his head and tell him to relax - it really will be okay, I promise! I'll make sure that it will be okay! And today when I saw the cuts on his arm, I just wanted to cry and wipe off each mark - not affectionately, but maybe like a mother might tend a fallen child's knee. I am not sure I am doing a good job of explaining this, but I know that it has to be explained. I absolutely cannot bear it anymore.

I know that if Han knew how I felt, it would probably crush him. I'm not sure if he would have good reason to feel crushed or not - does this qualify as emotional disloyalty? I would never, ever want to cheat on Han in any form. I've had in the past, and I suppose I still have, doubts about the stability of our relationship, and some of them may be connected in some indirect way to Senor... but I don't believe that I want to replace Han with Senor at all. I don't think I would even be able to if I tried. That is not to belittle Senor - Han would not be easy to replace. I treasure and cherish him dearly. He is amazing in every way. I would regret losing him for any reason.

But I am starting to wonder if losing Han is inevitable. No - I am starting to believe that it is inevitable. And I am starting to wonder how I feel about it. Am I alright with that, and trying to convince myself that I am devastated? Or am I devastated, trying to convince myself that I'm alright? Can I prevent it? Do I want to? Of course I can prevent it, within reason - I am in control of my life. The question (for the most part) is how hard I am willing work to prevent it.

And then I don't want to think about it.

How will my friends react? How will his friends react? How will my parents react? How will I answer their questions? What reasons will I give to people? What will I do with my solitude? Will I stay single? Will I get another boyfriend? If I do, what kind? If I don't, how do I say 'no'? What will I do with my Friday nights? What if I never find someone equal to him again? What if it is the biggest mistake I ever make? What if it is even just in the top five? Are there expectations that people have if I break up with him? Do they expect me to spend more time with them once we're apart? Am I using him as a shield?

What if I stay with Han, and I miss out on helping people that need help? What if I stay with him and end up with him instead of someone else I should have been with? What if I miss other opportunities? In careers? In love? In friendship? In education? In art? In literature? What am I sacrificing by maintaining this relationship? Do I need him? What if I do? Is that a weakness, or just part of being human? Are there things about Han that I don't know? That I don't realize I don't know because I'm biased? Am I limiting him in ways that I don't realize? Am I keeping him from other opportunities? In love, friendship, careers, art, travel, or anything else?

As for Senor... he says he loves me. Han would pitch a fit if he knew that Senor "loves" me, and I can't even imagine how he would react if he knew that I knew that Senor "loves" me. It matters very little to me how Senor feels about me... all I care about is that he doesn't dislike me. I don't think he truly loves me. I think he has been neglected by his family and the rest of society... I think that attention and loyalty I've displayed is something he isn't accustomed to. I think he doesn't realize how unremarkable I am; Once he does, I'm sure his "love" will lessen significantly. Until then, I am only slightly concerned; I do not want him to misinterpret my feelings for him. I do not me to misinterpret my feelings for him.

Don't assume that I'm doing that. Or that there is a high risk of me doing it. I only mean that there is a lot of love in me, and not much self-control. I'm not very good at explaining this. I'm just afraid that once other people start questioning my intentions, I will start to question myself. There is no risk of this while I'm with Han. One has nothing to worry about there. Only I'm afraid that if Han and I were to break up, would Senor think that I broke up with Han in part because of Senor? I don't want anyone to think that - I would never do that. I would never break up with one person for another person. But that would be one likely beginning of Senor misinterpretting my actions.

And then I start to worry - Am I using Han? Am I hiding behind him? Am I only with him to avoid complications between me and other people?

<3 o.

Fools of Good Heart

2008-11-01T20:41:00.007-04:00

I woke up at about 1:20 pm this afternoon, even though I'd been planning on going to a play at a school (which was about a 50-minute drive away) at 2:00 today. I still went, but I got there about half an hour late.

I'd forgotten what a wonderful play The Curious Savage is. I've written about it before, in my post "The Ever-Present Sympton of Psychotic Thinking" in April of 07. The part that really made me think today was this short exchange between Mrs. Savage and Dr. Emmett :

DR. EMMETT. And who are the fools of good heart, Mrs. Savage?
MRS. SAVAGE. I'd say--those who gamble on people, and invest in kindness--those who doubt that position means privilege, or that manners mean morals. And, of course, the rebels with no fear of failure.
-The Curious Savage, by John Patrick

I would say that what the world really needs are more "fools of good heart": More people who are willing to take risks for the sake of others, have faith in humanity that may or may not have deserve it, and devote energy to helping others. More people who understand that pretenses have nothing to do with rights or value and that every human is worthy of love, whether they are rich or poor, part of a minority, or part of a majority.

What the worlds need is people are who are stupid enough to do the right thing no matter what.

And these people: They need to be bravely acting on their beliefs, not writing about them in a secret blog like me.

I've always thought it best to be a "fool of good heart," although I'd never thought of it in those specific terms before. I'm starting to have second thoughts now.

What do you think? Would being a "fool of good heart" ever really benefit anyone, or only get one into unnecessary trouble? Is it better to play it safe and avoid complications? Or should a person try to do the most good that they possibly can, even if there's a chance they'll get hurt or humiliated?

<3 o.

Sometimes You Gotta RUN

2008-10-22T19:46:00.004-04:00

When I was in Junior High, and for a little bit of High School, I ran Cross Country. I really, really enjoyed it. I am not going to bother trying to explain the joy I got from running. I was not the best runner, but I was far from the worst. As in life, I guess you could say I was sort of the leader of the losers. :P One of my favorite parts of Cross Country was always being able to push myself. It wasn't a team sport, it was for individual improvement; I could push myself as hard as I wanted, and didn't have to limit myself to others.

The point being: I have always loved to run, and I have always pushed myself.

In school, and really in every part of my life, I always push myself to do my best. For myself, for others, whatever. It doesn't matter if someone is benefitting from it or if I just want to make someone proud or to impress them or prove that I am trying. I always am pushing myself. Academically, socially, emotionally, mentally, physically, always pushing. I get farther in some areas than in others.

I am afraid that it isn't getting me as far as I wanted, and I am getting tired. I am tired of pushing myself, but every time I slow down, I lose so much confidence. I think I have started to define myself a little by my efforts to always improve. Which is not necessarily a bad thing. Improvement is good, and improving is good, but taking a break every once in a while... that is reasonable, and I shouldn't get down on myself for needing it.

But yet I do.

I try to do too much. I am trying to fill too many roles.

Examples.

Senor wants to be with me. Han wants to be with me. I want to be with Han. But I want to be alone. I don't want to break up with Han, but everything is so hard. I want to be friends with Senor. But I don't want to be with Senor. I don't want to be with anyone. But didn't I just say a few sentences ago that I want to be with Han? I do want to be with Han. I love Han.

I am confused. I think I've been pushing myself so hard, that I no longer know what I want.

Except that: I have never wanted to run more than I do right now. Not on a track, and not on a trail. I just want to run, and run and run and run until I am too tired to run back.

<3 o.

So Unnaturally Myself... Or Naturally Not Myself?

2008-10-20T23:35:00.003-04:00

Lately, I have cared less and less about me. And I don't mean that in the morbid, depressing, "I don't care about my life; I wish I would die; I'm so worthless" way. It is a little harder to explain.

I don't really know how.

Basically, I am not myself, but I like it.

All my life, I have been abrasive, somewhat anti-social, stubborn, and pretty selfish. I am not a people person by nature. But lately, I have become more and more drawn to people, in an interesting way. I believe I've mentioned before that I want to help people... lately I've wanted to badly to do that. Senor is one situation. I don't care how he feels about me. Does he have a crush on me? Does he not? I don't care. He needs help, he wants help, but he confesses that he doesn't feel valuable enough to ask for it. I want so desperately to help.

This goes so much against my "natural" personality. Yet, it's my instinctive desire, to help. Needless to say, I'm pretty confused.

Most of my life, I've been spiteful and sarcastic towards people. Now I'm suddenly trying to look at things from different angles and perspectives, trying to figure out if there are reasons they are behaving like that - I'm asking if they need help, in case they don't know how to ask for it. What is going on with me?!

Despite how completely insane and weird and totally unnaturally instinctive I'm being, I kind of like it. Even though a few people give me weird looks, my hugs are occasionally accepted, and I think that maybe I have made an impact on Senor's life - it may only be very small so far, because we haven't known each other very long, but I think I might have. Even though I have always claimed to "hate people," I think I might enjoy being loving.

Okay, there's no think about it. I know that I like it. I love it. I want to be like this forever. I want to be the person that people know they can come to when they have a problem and talk to or just get a hug or even just show up at their house late at night if something really bad happens. I know that it sounds totally dorky and maybe even unrealistic, but can you imagine what kind of person I would be? Loving, understanding, patient, helpful, peaceful, kind, generous, faithful, hopeful... basically all the qualities that I've always admired in other people.

Here's the main problem: I want to always be completely available to help anyone who needs it, and that is just not possible while I am dating Han. I love Han. I do. He has pieces of me that I don't want to separate from, and breaking up with him would tear me apart. But... he can be very possessive. I know he doesn't mean to be, but I don't foresee, and I can't even imagine, this working out. He does not like me spending excessive amounts of time with lots of other people; he starts to feel neglected, like I'm tired of him.

I don't want to leave Han. I love Han! But I can't ignore my unnatural instinct to help people. I'll be forever scared that, if I ignore an urge to help someone because of upsetting Han, someone will go on hurting because I limited myself too much to reach out to them.

I don't know what to do. Han would have to loosen the reins a bit for this to work - not just in time-spending, but physically, also. He'd have to be comfortable with me talking to other people.

I know this sounds like a totally weird thought process. What are you talking about, little o?

I'm not sure. I think my brain is going to explode from all the thoughts racing through it! Can anyone else make sense of this?!

<3>

p.s. : EDIT
Since this has been written, I've changed my mind. I want to be with Han now and always and I'd give up anything for that.

Drama Is Life With The Dull Bits Cut Out.

2008-10-12T22:03:00.004-04:00

-Sir Alfred Joseph Hitchcock

And let me tell you, all of my dull bits have been cut out! I don't think my mind ever has a moment's peace.

I don't know if I even want to write about this. I know most people would find what I would write about to be insignificant, whiny, and overdramatic.

So let me remind you: Yes, it is dramatic. But that's life. And just because it's dramatic doesn't make the emotions any less real. So if you are prone to mocking those who become upset when put in complicated situations... stop reading now.

I love Han. Thankfully, he has lessened his attack on my friendship with Senor. Unfortunately, Senor has increased his feelings for me. I didn't think something like this would ever happen. It is a surreal, unlikely, and devastating situation. I merely want to be friends with Senor; he has had a miserable upbringing, and his home life is literally nonexistant. He is in need of a good friend and a good influence; I want to be that influence. A lot of people don't notice him, or if they do, it is not in a positive way. However,

Everyone has some light somewhere. And light is always worth fighting for.
-Fix-It God, Joan of Arcadia Season 1

Well, it didn't take long before I was pretty sure I'd found his "light." He's a sweet guy. He has his downfalls, but doesn't everyone? He is low on the criticism and heavy on the compliments. In the battle between good and evil, he would fight for good. He loves love.

Here's the problem. When you're the only person to see another person's light, they tend to think that you're something special for some reason. Newsflash: I'm not. But Senor thinks I am. He's completely fallen for me, and he doesn't really try to hide it. He's promised to try not to make things difficult for me, but I think he's pretty affection/attention-starved.

I don't want a romantic relationship with Senor. I don't know if I want a romantic relationship at all.

I love Han to pieces. I do. But right now, I feel like I'm being torn apart at the seams. I don't feel happy enough to be affectionate towards anyone, and that means I'm disappointing him greatly. We've been having problems for a few months, but it's hard to pinpoint exactly what they are. Honestly, I think these problems are me - I have been feeling so out of sorts. Nothing I do make sense. My actions and mood swings are beyond my normal level of bizarre.

To be completely honest, I would love nothing more right now than to hole myself up in my bedroom and never see or talk to anyone again for several months.

I can't explain this feeling.

The stress of Senor? Maybe. Although honestly, his crush doesn't bother me. He'll get over that in little to no time. What bothers me is knowing that his little crush is a disappointment waiting to happen.

The conflicts with Han? Perhaps. No one likes negativity - not really. But avoiding it would only make it worse. I would feel much better if we were able to talk it out and get it settled, and I know that.

So why the sudden aversion to people and to connections in general? Normally, I would be talking to Elsa about this - I am talking to her about right now - but I don't want to talk. I just want to think. By myself. All on my own.

Which was the point of this blog anyway, wasn't it?

I don't know. I'm so confused. I've always wanted to help people - I've always put the well-being of others ahead of my own, within reason, and sometimes without reason. That is not to say that I've never acted selfishly. But when given the chance to think it through, I will very, very rarely act for the good of me over someone else.

Suddenly, I just want to hide from everyone I care about. And who care about me. I just want to get away. I feel trapped by my connections. How can that be? They used to always make me feel safe.

<3 o.

Long Time, No See

2008-10-08T15:38:00.004-04:00

Since the scholarship campaign has ended, I thought I might as well update.

A lot has been going on, I think.

Last night, I went to bed at 6 p.m., and I didn't get up until 6:30 the next morning. I wasn't even that tired.

I finished my essay over the media's effects on girls, and I recieved a 100% on my narrative essay.

I also have made a new friend in my Japanese class, whom I call Senor Raggamuffin Von Stalker Dude. I am not sure that I know his real name. He's tall and skinny and has long, curly-ish black hair that is dyed. I'm pretty sure that it is naturally brown - but I can understand the desire to dye brown hair. My hair is brown, and sometimes I feel so unexotic. Anyway. He's very, very nice, but seems to have some self-esteem problems, maybe even some that counter my own!

Unfortunately, Han is less than thrilled by this developement. He has been in and out of bad moods lately because he is jealous of my conversations with Senor during Japanese. I've talked to him about, and he says it's fine, he trusts me, and that if he can have girl friends, I should be allowed to have guy friends, but every time he sees Senor, he gets all... glares and pouts. I don't know what to do. Senor has few friends and is very kind, and it would be very unfair to neglect him when he's done nothing wrong, but I hate it when Han is unhappy.

Also, today I was talking to Senor in Japanese on the computer, and, technically, we weren't breaking any rules. We were being quiet, doing our work, and the site we were on wasn't blocked. Also, Mrs. Brink usually is very friendly and understanding, but today she threatened to write us both up (via writing across our screens from her teacher-station control computer thing). I would have understood it if we weren't working, but we were both doing what we were supposed to be doing. And did she really have to threaten us? Couldn't she have just been nice about it and asked us to please stop talking and focus more? If we'd broken any rules, it would be different, but we didn't.

Another unhappy instance.

I have this habit that if someone does something that really annoys me, I kind of swat at their face, like a pretend slap. But really, if you can imagine the force you might use to wave a fly away from your face, it is lighter than that. Generally, the tips of my fingers just barely brush their cheek, and it's kind of my way of saying, "Please stop, or I'll probably get really upset."

Another thing is, I hate, hate, hate hunting. I don't know why. I love meat, and I know there's nothing really wrong with hunting, but I hate it when people talk about it like it doesn't even matter that the animals were alive. Well, Han's, ex-friend, Jan, was talking about how much fun hunting was, and I said, "Oh, stop it!" and swatted at her face, as is my habit. Honestly, I barely touched her, if I touched her at all, because she leaned back. Well the next thing I know, she's running around telling people that I slapped her across the face and that she wants to punch me.

I have never really liked Jan before, but it's to the point now that if she weren't 2 or 3 times my size, I might really slap her. She'd deserve it. She's incredibly rude, and now there are rumors flying around that I'm slapping people, when I would never do something like that. I mean, maybe if someone attacked me or something, I'd probably hit them. That's different.

Anyway, the point is, I'm seriously ticked off. Han is having weirdo moodswings. I want to be friends with Senor. Mrs. Brink was nice, and now she's psycho (Something I'd like to talk more about later). Jan is making my high school life miserable. My headache meds aren't helping anymore - I still get headaches every day. I am sleeping even more than I used to. I can barely keep up with my role as Publicity Designer in Drama.

I'm pretty sure that my brain is going to implode from all the pressure being put on it.

Oh wait. One good thing: I won Most Artistic Senior Spotlight for girls. But, I have to share it with Tony. I don't like Tony. I think I've mentioned that before. I'd rather share it with Han; he's more creative than Tony is anyway.

I've missed you all. I hope I have the energy and will to update more. :]

I hope you are all doing lovely!

<3 o.

We Really Need The Votes

2008-10-02T19:59:00.002-04:00

Elsa has entered a photo of me in a scholarship. It's a very good photo, especially considering that it's of me, and she could really use the scholarship.

The problem?

We need over 1000 votes by tomorrow.

Yes, tomorrow as in October 3.

Photo Shoot Out 2
Brickfish

<3 o.

Apathetic Way To Be

2008-09-25T06:38:00.002-04:00

For perhaps the first time in my life, I am not actively obsessing over something. Last night, I found Wicked on YouTube. I love and adore Wicked; I'm certain it's the best musical to ever be written. But after watching ten minutes of it (or less), I became bored and decided, "I'll watch it later." The same thing has happened when trying to read Les Miserables and The Phantom of the Opera (both of which I love). I passed up the opportunity to argue with someone about how good The Princess Bride is--and I love arguing and The Princess Bride.

This may be the reason I haven't updated for a while. Normally I'd update everytime something happens--with the play, my upcoming anniversary, music, friends, random thoughts. But every time I consider blogging, I think, "It doesn't matter." Then I go to sleep.

Speaking of sleep--I do a lot of it. I used to go to bed at one and get up at five-thirty, and I never suffered for it. I was still energetic and happy throughout the whole day, and in fact, hated going to sleep. Now I go to bed at ten and get up at six-thirty, and i'm still so tired that I sleep during third hour and after school. Over the weekend, I got almost twenty-two hours of sleep. That's a lot of sleep. I'm pretty sure it's more than healthy.

I want to blame it on my new medication, but I know I've been like this since this summer. The main problem is, it's getting worse.

I don't know if it's related to my energy and enthusiasm about other projects, but if it is, it isn't just affecting my enthusiasm for extra fun things. I feel no need or desire to work on or apply for scholarships or colleges--even though it's something I need to do. I promised Han that I'd help him study for the SAT, and every time we go to, I can't really focus because I don't really want to think about it. I want to do stuff with people, but I want to sleep and do nothing even more.

This is probably the least amount of fun I've had in a while.

I know this was a short and un-interesting post, but I figured that you few guys deserved and update.

<3 o.

A Variety Of Topics For This Post

2008-09-10T20:11:00.007-04:00

Firstly, I want to apologize for not updating recently and for not being overly active (or really very active at all) in my commenting. I do read most posts within a day or two of them being posted.

Secondly: After a rather stressful chain of events this afternoon after school (which involved Han, a library, and oreos), I stormed out to my truck, entirely intent on either doing myself serious physical harm, throwing things until I was instituted, or refusing to move or speak for a week. You think I'm exaggerating, well I'm not. Fortunately, I fell asleep, and Han was there when I woke up. I will admit that part of my tantrum was due to the events of 7th hour (Drama), which I will relate to you momentarily. And part of it was the library situation. Most of it, though, was left over distress from school, which only managed to manifest itself into an expressible form about the time we were at the library...

And now: Today. It was horrid. First, my sister and I nearly got killed by a semi. He was going about 35-40 in a 60 zone, and I was coming up behind him at 60, so I switched lanes. Right after I switched lanes, he put on his turn signal and pulled into my lane in front me. Keep in mind that I am gaining on him this entire time. It was incredibly close, but I was able to get back into the other lane. But oh man, it scared the crap out of me. And then the rest of the day went okay (oh except that I forgot all my pencils and makeup at home... but Mom brought that to school for me) until 7th hour.

First I think I need to tell you: I was very disappointed in the choice of play that my class voted on. It is about an airplane full of people whose pilot is brainwashed by an alien who makes him crash land in the Bermuda Triangle, where they meet "natives" that are actually aliens who have come to stop the brainwashing alien. It is somewhat humorous, but has no plot or theme--and I need things to have a theme. If there is no theme, I don't see a purpose for it, and I am not interested in it. But after much deliberation, I decided I could cope with it. It would be fun and a good way to relax--and there's still the publicity crew.

Today I was told I'd be the head of the publicity crew. I was really happy--we're in charge of the posters, advertisements, programs, t-shirts, all that. I was really excited, because in the last few years I have been VERY disappointed in the t-shirts. I saw this as my opportunity to actually have a say in something and make sure it was good.

Yeah well nevermind that. Have I ever told you before how much I loathe Tony? I will someday. For now, all you need to know is that he's a jerk, he's not on the publicity crew, he punched me in the stomach in kindergarten, and he thinks he's hot artistic stuff because his grandpa can paint. So what does he do? He draws his own idea for t-shirt design or whatever, which consists of the following: the cover that came on the script (an island, a spaceship, and a plane) with a big alien's head behind it. Then he came over and was like, "Look what I drew." I'd have less of a problem with this if: A. It looked good, or B. He'd signed up for publicity crew. But he didn't sign up--meaning he should have stayed with his group and kept his ugly head out of mine. And in addition, everyone loved his really ugly, unoriginal design. I know it's hard to believe that everyone would love an ugly design, but it's true. So there went my hopes of having attractive t-shirts. And it's not only that--it's that those were my responsibility, not to mention my only chance to have any creative outlet, or any say-so at all, and it was totally snatched.

It seems to me like any time I want something, do something, or suggest something, it is either ignored or upstaged. Every time.

It is so very frustrating. I usually love entering Project eXcel with drawings and poetry, but I've never won, and now I'm not sure that I want to even try. I've been working for a little while on some illustrations for a scholarship--but judging by the reaction I get to my work and ideas from most people, I don't know if it's worth it. It's very discouraging, and I'm about sick of trying.

Another example, and no offense to Elsa: but in her yearbook class, the Photoshop instructor noticed that she was familiar with Photoshop and offered to let her teach a 1-hour class for $100. What the heck is that about? A. She only has and can use Photoshop because I gave it to her, and I did help her some. I'm certain she would have learned it on her own with all the tutorials online, but I did help, and I provided tutorial sites for her as well. B. I am better at Photoshop than her. I don't mean to sound like I am putting her down, because she is very good. However, I do have more experience, and have done a larger variety of things with it. I don't believe there is a single feature or tool on the program that I have not used or at least played with. and C. I have tried for forever to get a job at various establishments doing various things... and she gets this incredibly amazing job offer just like that? How is that even the beginning of fair in any way? And for once, I do not want to hear, "She's in a wheelchair, she should get some advantages!" Everyone totally underestimates her--she is perfectly capable of applying to jobs. I understand that there are fewer jobs for her to apply for, so it's good for to get some kind of experience. But on the other hand, there are all kinds of jobs for me to apply for--and I do, but it doesn't work. It is very difficult to get a job in town, and it's very difficult to get a job out of town because of gas--and the only vehicle at my disposal is a 14-mile-per-gallon truck that is highly unreliable. So, I've been working my freaking butt off trying to get a job. And that is just incredibly frustrating. I don't blame Elsa at all, but I have to say I am somewhere between outraged and insanly envious. Because it's again: I am gone completely unacknowledged. Completely.

I don't like to be ignored. I don't. I freaking hate it and it seems to be the story of my life. I can't possibly live up to Emily's reputation of perfection, can't win a single art contest (despite my friends' claims that I am "really good"), can't even get a job, and continue to go completely unobserved in any and all other areas--even when I am in charge.

I could just scream, if only my walls were thick enough for it to go unnoticed.

<3 o.

Alyss Returns To Wonderland: A Metaphor

2008-08-27T16:01:00.007-04:00

I am reading a book right now called Seeing Redd by Frank Beddor.

It is a sequel to this book:

This storyline is the "true" story of Alice Liddell, the model / inspiration for Lewis Carroll's (Charles Dodgson's) book, Alice in Wonderland, and it's sequel, Alice Through the Looking Glass. It follows Alyss Heart, the princess of Wonderland, as she flees from Wonderland in order to escape her notorious aunt, Queen Red, and ends up in Victorian England, where she stays for thirteen years, adopted by the Liddell family. During this period of time, she meets Charles Dodgson, who writes a nonsense book about her claims of Wonderland. After her story is made a mockery of, she becomes convinced that Wonderland wasn't real and loses the ability to use her imagination. When she is finally returnd to Wonderland, the entire queendom is depending on Alyss--and her imagination--to free them from the tyranny of Queen Redd. But, if you'll recall, her imagination no longer worked.

Can you imagine what it must have been like for Alylss, returning to Wonderland, trying to conjure and control things with her imagination, and not being able to? Something that came so naturally, almost instinctively to her in the past, had turned into something she struggled with. When she was younger, she could make toys turn into fountains, make people grow feathers, and conjure up different foods, but after being in England for too long, she wasn't even able to make a fan appear.

I think that that is what I have been feeling like lately, especially when it comes to drawing and writing. I know I have already talked about both of these things, but it is so frustrating: I am trying and trying and trying so hard to draw and write, but nothing seems to happen. In comparison with drawings from a year or more ago, all of my drawings now look stiff and dull. My writing is voiceless and choppy. I try to remember how I drew and wrote before, but I don't remember trying to write or draw--I just did it. So why can't I 'just do it' now?

I don't know what I'm going to do with myself. There are very few things that don't make me want to write or draw, but all that happens when I try to do either is that I get very frustrated with myself. I don't understand why it's so hard all of a sudden.

<3 o.

Today In Music Theory...

2008-08-26T21:42:00.002-04:00

There was a boy in the row in front of me making fun of a boy next to me. He wasn't being too loud, so I don't believe that the teacher could hear him, but I, being between the two, could hear everything. After several minutes of putting up with Front-Row Boy telling Next-To-Me Boy that he was going to kill him, that he was stupid, and verbally musing over the nature of Next-To-Me Boy's parents having sex, I'd pretty much had enough. So, as Front-Row Boy leaned over to hiss yet another insult at the clearly embarassed Next-To-Me Boy, I poked him in the throat with my pencil. Not hard at all, just enough to get his attention, like a tap on the shoulder... but pointier.

And before he'd finished his comment to Next-To-Me Boy, he turned and asked me what I did that for. And I told him I wanted him to shut up because no cares about how cool he thinks he is and I was sick of hearing him talk. "So you poked my neck?" he asked, trying to make the point that my actions had been totally random and had no way of solving the problem. "Would you have prefered it had been your eye?" was my response. He told me he would have prefered his arm, and I told him that that was too bad, because I didn't really care what he prefered, and in that light, next time, it would be his eye. His friend on the other side of the room giggled at this, and he didn't bother Next-To-Me Boy for the rest of the class.

But I don't know what I will do if I have to put up with him doing that another day. All Next-To-Me Boy does is listen to me and my friends, and occasionally try to join the conversation, which we have no problem with. He doesn't do anything to deserve the constant bullying he reserves from Front-Row Boy (and Gang). If it does indeed continue, I wouldn't be surprised at all if Front-Row Boy received a painful reminder that there's always someone cooler than him--or, at least bigger, stronger, and more merciless than him--from a certain Han.

I was thinking about the occurence this afternoon and I said something about it aloud to my parents and Han. Mom strongly disapproved, saying I was only contributing to bullying. Dad said that he, being a teacher, thought it was the right thing, and that I was merely showing Front-Row Boy that his actions had consequences, even if he wasn't "caught." Han just wanted to know his name and locker number so he could "talk to him." (Han isn't really a violent person, but he can be very intimidating. Okay, he was violent once, under an extreme circumstance, but I wasn't there.)

Anyhow, I'm glad that Dad at least sided with me. It didn't evolve into an argument, thankfully. Mom did say not to do it again, and while I think she has a point, if Front-Row Boy does it again, so will I.

This was just something that's been floating around in my brain. I decided to share it so that I could focus on other things a little better. I'd love to hear your comments on whether what I did was what I should have done.

<3 o.

I Won't Be Sleeping Much Tonight

2008-08-18T23:20:00.003-04:00

There are a variety of things to speak of, all very briefly.

Firstly, I was very unimpressed with all of the options our Drama class was presented with to choose from for our semester play--so I wrote one. It's called "Saving Wonderland and How Alice Did It." I'm hopeless, I know. I had Han take it to Mrs. H--he simply told her that a girl in the hallway outside her room asked him to give it to her. She did not mention it during class, but neither did we pick a play.

It was a stupid, stupid thing to do, really. I know that there is no chance on Earth that it will be voted on, even if she does mention it to the class. I don't know why I did that, I will only end up looking stupid. I only hope she doesn't figure out that it was me.

Secondly, I hate school. I hate it more than I thought I would, more than I thought I possibly could. There is no real reason. I am just distressed throughout it, from beginning to end, counting the minutes until the end of each class--literally. I don't know how long I can handle this kind of torment. Really, most of my teachers are very nice, and none of them are mean, and there has not been an abundance of homework--so I don't know what to do. I don't know what the problem is, so I don't know how to go about fixing it.

Thirdly... I don't want to talk about tonight. I don't want to think about it. But because it has made me think so much, I will tell you what part of tonight has caused the thought. It is all you will know about what happened.

I don't know why, but I started screaming. And I just couldn't stop.

And now, I'm miserable. Literally. I'm exhausted, but I don't want to go to bed, because I know it will lead to thoughts of tonight, and I don't want to think about it. I don't know what conclusions I would draw if I did, and I don't want to know.

Lastly, I'm on a new medication, Prozac. I think that's the one with the depressed rock in their commercial... I'm supposedly taking it for headaches, but I believe it's also an anti-depressant, so if it could help at all with my stress/unhappiness, that would be great... of course, I thought that that would happen with the Celexa, and then I had some kind of allergic reaction.

I'm pretty sure this has been the worst first week of senior year that I could have possibly imagined for myself. No, actually, this is worse than I could have imagined. Because anything that I could have imagined, I did imagine, and so I was kind of mentally prepared. I was so not ready for this. Not only was I not prepared, but I don't even know what's wrong... and since I don't know the problem, I don't know how to fix it.

Goodnight, blogging community.

Sweet dreams.

<3>

One of the Worst Friday Nights Ever. No, Really.

2008-08-16T00:07:00.008-04:00

Exhibit A: When I went to Disneyworld, I spent a couple of days in Epcot. On the first day, I was heading back to our cabin/rooms to put something up and rest, because I hadn't slept well the night before. On my way towards the park exit, I saw a woman sitting by herself on a wall next to a garden. She had her head in hands, and I saw a few tears hitting the ground. In my opinion, no one should cry at Disneyworld, and I was almost certain that someone somewhere deserved to be punished for making her cry, but that wasn't my focus. I hung around that area for probably ten minutes trying to decide if I should do anything, or what I could do if I decided to. I eventually did ask her if she would be okay and if I could help her in any way. I will always wonder what happened to her. I wish I had been able to help her.

Exhibit B: Haleigh loves animals. She loves them so, so much. Not long ago, one our cats had caught a butterfly by the wings. Haleigh loves our cats, but she doesn't like to see anything in pain. She retrieved the butterfly from the cat's mouth as carefully as possible so as not to hurt it. I had huge holes in its wings from the cat's teeth, and I don't think it could ever possibly fly again, but Haleigh put it in some flowers out of the cat's reach anyway. She doesn't like to see any animal in pain. She is the main caretaker of our cats. She plays with them, feeds them, knows all their personalities and the differences between cats that seem otherwise identical. The only thing she won't do is give them medicine, because if they fight it or meow, she gets very upset and afraid that she will hurt them.

Exhibit C: I will not go into the nitty-gritty details, but I have an uncle who used to (and may still) grow, use, and deal illegal drugs. He sold these to my cousin, the son of a different uncle of mine, and he would get high in the basement while leaving his elementary-aged daughters upstairs by themselves. He's not a good person. He refuses to work, and so does his wife. He is thirty-some years old, and his entire life, my grandparents have payed for his food, clothing, water, electricity, taxes, housing, everything. He doesn't have his own money. He spends it on other drugs.

Exhibit D: Tonight was a Friday night. On most Friday nights, I go out with Han, because we don't see each other too much during the school days. Tonight, however, my parents went to help Emily with her house, and they were spending the night there. They asked me to stay home with my two younger sisters, Haleigh and Annalisa. I don't know if I have ever used a fake name for them before, but this is what I'm calling them now. They said I could go out Saturday night, so I said that was fine. I decided I could write a little, I could draw a little, get my room clean, relax... just take everything easy. It was going to be a good night.

But it was not to be. Because I get jumpy alone at night sometimes, Mom and Dad had Grandma and Grandpa come in and check on us, which is fine. But then, my cousin, the young daughter of my bum uncle, called my grandpa. My grandparents recently acquired a kitten, and she wanted it. Hers was sick, and her parents didn't have the money to take it to the vet. Grandma asked if she could have one of ours instead. She asked Haleigh this. Haleigh knows that their house is not a good place for a cat. We have kittens to spare, but we want them all to go to good homes, and Haleigh wants that more than any of us. In Exhibit C, I think I clarified that this does NOT qualify as a good home. So this was very, very awkward for her--she said she'd ask Mom and Dad and she came up to me to ask me what to do and see if she could call them. I could tell she was upset. She didn't want to tell Grandma and Grandpa, "No, we don't trust them to take good care of our cats, and we only give them to good homes," but there was no way she'd ever be able to let a kitten go to a home that would be unable to take care of it.

I call Mom and Dad, because I can tell she is too upset to do anything. I talk to them a little bit, told them that even though they don't mistreat their animals, they can't take care of them if they get sick or hurt, and pointed out that they have a habit of own multiple large, violent dogs at a time. They said that if we were really uncomfortable with letting them have a kitten, that was okay. Grandma eventually decided Zora could have her kitten.

Now, Haleigh was still kind of shaken from the stress of having to say "No" to Grandma, but she also felt bad--Grandma doesn't like animals very often, and she felt awful that Grandma was going to give her kitten up, and she also didn't like the idea of any kitten living there... Recall Exhibit B. Haleigh loves all animals, anything that is alive. She hates for them to be in pain.

After Grandma left, I tried to calm Haleigh down. She was upset about the kitten and felt guilty about Grandma giving hers away. She was doing okay. Her voice was a little shaky, and her eyes were moist, but she was doing okay. I suggested that she call Mom and Dad and give them an update, and told her that they would probably be able to help her feel better. So she did.

Ten minutes later, I walk into her room, and she is on the phone with Dad, in tears. And I am about to explode. Not only do I hate to see people cry, especially my little sisters, but I have spent over an hour trying to keep her calm, reassuring her that the kitten will probably be okay, and here she is, talking to Dad, whom we had relied upon to make things better, and it feels like all my efforts to calm her down have been wasted. Because now she is in tears. I felt so let down and betrayed--my parents are always saying to come to them with their problems, and here, we had, and things had only gotten worse.

So I probably over-reacted. That part doesn't matter that much. I got into it a little bit with Mom and Dad, but we smoothed it over.

But I cried. And Haleigh and Annalisa saw me. And I hated it. I can cry, surely. I can cry by myself, no problem. I can cry with my friends around. I can cry in front of my parents without too much problem. But crying in front of my little sisters--they're relying on me to be in charge, to be calm, to be able to handle whatever problem comes up. When I cried, I was not showing that I was going to be able to handle problems.

And Annalisa, who is ten, didn't know what to do. Both her older sisters were crying. I could tell she was confused. She just walked back and forth between our rooms, never looking at us, but obviously focusing on us. Now I will refer to Exhibit A, because she looked just how I felt when I was watching the lady crying in the park. Just wanting to do something, trying to think of something, not sure if she will be able to help. I felt so bad, and I felt like I had let her down. I know I always felt helpless and confused if I saw Emily cry... how must Annalisa have felt when she saw both of her older sisters crying?

So I felt let down by my parents, I felt stressed by Haleigh's distress, I felt as if I had let down my little sisters by crying when I should have been being an adult, and I feel disappointed in myself for not getting anything done. I also feel guilty that Grandma is giving away her kitten, and guilty that I got so angry at Dad when he wasn't being that mean. (At least, not as mean as he normally is.) There was not a single good emotion this entire night.

All in all, I would say this Friday night was a complete disappointment. Someone somewhere owes me a new Friday, I'm pretty sure.

<3 o.

The World is Made Up of Stories, Not Atoms.

2008-08-14T23:11:00.004-04:00

-Muriel Rukeyser

Four years ago, I was fourteen. I was in Junior High, I believe... or possibly a freshman. And I thoroughly enjoyed The Phantom of the Opera--the book. I don't know if the new musical movie was out at the time, but I had become so intrigued by what I had heard of the story, that I decided to read the book. It was very difficult for me, and much that I didn't understand--but I loved it.

I loved it so much that I wrote a really lame fanfiction story that I don't really expect you to look at, but thought that I might provide for you in case you were curious. It was a sequel to The Phantom of the Opera, and it wasn't very good--I was fourteen, after all.

But it got a lot of really good reviews! I was so encouraged! I had a very elaborate plot worked out that I was proud of--meaning in all the weird things that happened. I think I even had an ending in mind.

Then I got one bad review. It was the longest one I had yet to recieve, and it was rather upsetting at the time. Soon afterwards, I had reviews that said not to worry about what that person said--develope the characters how I wanted to. It is my story, after all, and I am the one writing it. So I tried. I really did. But the sixth chapter just never did meet completion, and now it had most certainly been lost forever, since all our computers have certainly been reformatted since then--probably more than once--and I don't even remember which computer I was writing on.

But tonight, I felt this urge to write, and I was looking around on a few writing sites for some ideas, and one of them was fanfiction.net. I remembered that I had put something on there before, so I decided to go for a moonlit stroll down memory lane. I read all five chapters, and then I went back and read the reviews.

And I wished I could finish it. I wished that all the people who were online four years ago would be guaranteed to still be online... just like I wasn't. I wished I knew how I should end it. I wished I had not disappointed all those, "Please post the next chapter!"s and "I can't wait to see how it ends!"s.

And even more so, I wanted to write. I wanted to write so bad. I wanted to be able to pull an intriguing thought out of my head, and organize it into an intricate plot, and share it with anyone who would be willing to spare a few minutes. I wanted it. And I want it now.

Unfortunately, my brain feels so garbled right now. My head has hurt regularly, without fail, every night for several nights in a row now, and I am so stressed with school starting. I have never been more upset about the beginning of school.

I have started and worked on so many stories, but never to complete one. I've tried. I've mapped out chapters, done character designs, descriptions, and sketches. I've illustrated covers, drafted scenes, written prologues. I have worked so hard, but I just can't seem to accomplish anything substantial... I lose my momentum, I forget about, I lose my papers... and it's back to square one.

Always on square one.

<3 o.

Too Many Q's, Not Enough A's.

2008-08-14T23:04:00.003-04:00

Inspired by a lovely, pensive post that can be found here, written by the amazing Elsa.

They teach you 1+1 and other mathematical phenomenons. They teach you for years how to form the perfect sentence in English, and then they start in on the Spanish. They teach you the names of the states and have you label a map. They teach you how to find the percent composition of magnesium oxide. They teach you how to draw and shade cones, spheres, and cubes. They might even teach you how to play the clarinet.

So is it any surprise that most seniors are so apprehensive about graduating? When did they ever really teach us anything that will help? We have other questions that need answering, other things we need to know!: Can you maintain relationships with friends that are hundreds of miles away? How do you balance more schoolwork than ever with a work schedule that you need to pay for it? Where do you find an affordable, but safe, house if you need one? Are there any food alternatives to ramen noodles? But most importantly, what comes next?

And thusly shall my little project be called: What Comes Next? I will come up with or find questions or confusions relating to school / graduating--questions that most people don't bother answering--hopefully averaging one question for every week or two. Because Elsa is what made me think of this, I expect her to help. (Oh ho ho, I bet you thought, "Oh I feel so wonderful, I inspired a series of posts, eehee!" Well I got news for you, sister! You have to WORK for that honor!)

I will only do this when I have time, and I will probably not spend too much effort deliberating over questions. If I come across a question or something comes to mind, I will seek out a solution, but don't expect me to be consistent. The answers I find will probably not matter to most people who read, so, more than an advice column, this will be more of an opportunity for me to try to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for the challenges ahead.

SUBJECT CHANGE

Tomorrow is the first day of my Senior year of High School. It is the beginning of the end. And it is the end of naps as I have come to know them.

Tomorrow I will walk into an all-too-familiar building full of all-too-familiar people, and they will all see a none-too-familiar face.

Because today I got my my lovely, waist-length hair cut to shoulder-length, and I now have bright blue streaks throughout. Aside from the fact that I have wanted blue highlights for years, there is a kind of reason for this.

Everyone has their pre-determined idea of everyone else. I don't know everything that everyone thinks of me, but I do know this: Many, many people think of me as the perfect, straight-A student, who would never do anything that wasn't what I was told to do. I kind of want to break that stereotype. I do take pride in my grades, because I put a great deal of effort into them, and I do believe that there is a lot of good to be said for being conservative in certain areas. However, that doesn't mean that I am not fun-loving (which I am) and it doesn't mean that I won't make my own decisions (because I will).

My hope is that perhaps the shorter hair and the blue streaks will make people look twice, and maybe, if they look twice, they will think twice. Hopefully, some people will realize, "There is more to a person (me!) than I had known," and they will rethink some of their assumptions.

Of course, there will be those people who will just be encouraged in their thoughts that I am crazy, and that's okay. I kind of am. :]

<3 o.

On The Subject of Hattie and Marcy

2008-08-12T10:33:00.004-04:00

Emily, my older sister (also known as Emmo), has a roommate who is also one of her friends. Her name, for the sake of this entry, is Marcy. Next door to their house, there is an elderly couple who owns a dog, some variation of a lab. They are unable to walk the dog, so Marcy walks it, and sometimes when she is walking the dog, Emily will go with her to keep her company and get some air herself. Well, Marcy is moving, and the couple was talking about who would walk the dog when she has moved. Emily had told them she would do it if they like, and they expressed their concern to Marcy about Emily being rather small. That is a reasonable concern, because our whole family is "rather small." Emily and I are both 4'11 to 5', but we have had dogs before, and Emily works out. But, Marcy's response wasn't, "Well, I think Emily could probably handle it, she has experience with dogs," or, "She does work out, though, so she's pretty strong for her size." No, what Marcy said was, "Well, sometimes when Emily goes out with us, I let her try to walk the dog."

"Like I'm ten or something," Emily said to Mom later when relating this story.

Marcy's habits of doing and saying things like this to belittle Emily reminds me of my friend Hattie, who behaves similarly (though it took me a few years to realize it).

Hattie was my best friend from second grade through the beginning of high school. Probably in Junior High, we starting having some harsher quarrels than in the past, but in High School, her behavior at times was infuriating. It escalated from telling me I couldn't sing in fourth grade (which I found out about a year ago, isn't necessarily true) to getting really angry if I didn't want to walk to band with her in Junior High to telling me she couldn't go to the Relay For Life with me because she had work the next day during Sophomore year (oh but, by the way, she could go to the midnight showing of Spiderman 3).

I find it somewhat ironic that both Emily and I had/have close friends that have a rather strong reputation of trying to belittle or discourage us. Both Marcy and Hattie will take almost any situation to make themselves look as good as they can... or at least better than Emily or I, often in the form of making us look incompetent, unintelligent, foolish, selfish, ignorant, or weak.

Sometimes I wonder what would have been different about my childhood if I hadn't spent so much time with Hattie. For instance, would I have felt differently about my height? She always called me Shortie in elementary school. Would I have done more summer musicals at the Community Theater? She was always telling me I couldn't sing. Would I have made more friends? She was constantly complaining about or making fun of other people when they weren't around.

I don't want Hattie to sound like a complete monster. She had her good times. She has a good sense of humor and was usually encouraging about my drawing. It's just that as we got older, she seemed to get less and less encouraging and more and more belittling, to the point that, like on the night of Relay For Life, she just came across of flat-out rude and inconsiderate.

It's not really a big deal anymore. We don't hang out very much now, and she's been rather upstaged by Elsa's somewhat sweeter personality. Hattie will occasionally call and try to make plans, but between Han and Elsa, I'm nearly always booked.

I could go into more detail about how Hattie can be frustrating to be around, but I feel I've been negative enough for the day. I was thinking about it because of what has been happening with Emily and Marcy, and how interesting it was that both our friends do that. I wonder if it is them or if it is us?

<3 o.

If It's Not Broken, Don't Fix It

2008-08-09T18:20:00.004-04:00

That's what somebody ought to tell them.

Tim Burton is making a new movie--an Alice in Wonderland movie. Now, I like Tim Burton, I think his movies are very good in many aspects, and he has made a few of my favorite movies, but I don't think he has any business messing with Alice.

Because, let's face it, Tim Burton's work is dark. And it's creepy. It is dark and creepy, and Alice in Wonderland is a children's book. Okay, sure, Lewis Carroll was on drugs while he wrote it--but the book isn't about drugs. One of my main concerns is that he will forget that and focus on the acid-tripping aspect.

Alice in Wonderland has already been made into some very good movies. The Disney cartoon is sweet, charming, and innocent. The atmosphere is light and fun, and it's a very good children's film. My favorite Alice film, the 1985 Alice in Wonderland, is just phenomenal. The songs and music are exquisite, and the cast that they got together for that is just miraculous. I don't think the odds of another cast like that being put together again is very good. Included in this cast were Red Buttons, Sammy Davis Jr., Martha Rave, Imogene Coca, Telly Savalas, Jayne Meadows, Ringo Starr, John Stamos, Steve Allen, and Jonathan Winters... to name a very small amount.

Both of these Alice videos are classic masterpieces, and there is absolutely no need for a new Alice take. Maybe I would be more open to it if Tim Burton didn't have such a record for dark, morbid films... and if the girl cast to be Alice wasn't 18 (Mia Wasikowska). The only hope I am holding onto is that I believe Disney is involved somewhat, and the scriptwriter is the same as the scriptwriter for The Lion King.

I just don't understand why we need a new Alice in Wonderland film. The already existing movies are all so wonderful and classic, nothing now will be able to do them justice. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, which Tim Burton also directed, was good--however, it was still darker than the book, and I don't think it was as good as it could have been. For a Roald Dahl book, it was good--but I love Alice. I don't want anyone to hurt that story.

I could go further in-depth into the whole "Carroll was on drugs, Carroll was a pedophile" thing in corrolation to how Tim Burton will make the film, but here's it: I don't care that he was on drugs, it is still a good children's story, and it isn't actually about drugs, so whatever. I don't believe that he was a pedophile, he took children's portraits, and some of them were nude--always with the parents presence, and before it was considered immoral by society. I don't want Tim Burton to make this film, because I think Alice is a perfect children's story with already fantastic renditions in existence, and Tim Burton isn't exactly known for his charming children's work--and the fact that an 18-year-old is playing Alice isn't exactly reassuring me any.

Alice in Wonderland isn't broken, and Tim Burton doesn't need to try to fix it.

<3 o.

Dear Mr. Sandefer,

2008-08-08T08:35:00.004-04:00

As you have probably not been informed, my locker is no longer next to your classroom. Surprisingly, this is by far the largest disappointment of my senior year. My locker was terribly convenient, since it was on the end, but that was the least of its mighty virtue. The greatest thing about my locker was that you, being one of the friendliest teachers, said good morning to me every day and asked how I was doing. Out of politeness, of course, but if I am not next to your classroom, no one will tell me good morning, and no one will ask how I am. And I really enjoy being told good morning!

The "good morning" exchange is just one thing I will miss. Being no longer in your class, I will miss our occasional little arguments--Me complaining about the government, and you trying to convince me that it's all the best it can be. I know you're right, and I knew it when we argued. However, sometimes I just enjoy being negative, and in addition, it was a good way to get to know you better.

You are a very difficult teacher to get to know. You are caring and polite, but at the same time, not very personal. (I assume you are like that because the last chemistry teacher we had eloped with a student and moved to Kentucky.) However, you were the best science teacher I'd had since Junior High, and one of the best teachers I've had ever, and so I wanted to know a little more about you. What I said about teacher's pay and how I feel about it is true--one of the few things I said during our arguments that I think actually deserves some attention. However, I am glad that you became a teacher.

I think you are an exquisite teacher. As with any teacher who tries to teach, there are students who think that you are too demanding, but you are one of those great teachers who really wants the students to know what you are trying to tell them. If you expect a lot from your students, you are also willing to help them meet your standards in whatever way. I remember the day when you were so sick, and it was obvious that you felt horrible, but you stayed at school when you easily could have (and probably should have) gone home, because you wanted to get all of the classes caught up.

But this is just the beginning of how you struck me as an amazing person! I believe you talked about your wife two times during the year I was in your class, and each time, you expressed such admiration for her. It was the sweetest thing, Mr. Sandefer. I always wished you would talk about her more often, because one doesn't see a husband talk that way about his wife as often as one should. I hope that, when I get married, my husband talks that way about me.

As I draw this little letter to a close, there is just one thing left to say: I just remembered that I have a friend, Elsa, who is taking chemistry this year, and it is possible that I will accompany her either to or from that class. If this is the case, I hope you tell me "good morning" when I get there! Or at least "hello".

<3 o.

p.s. : I am sorry for any times I fell asleep in your class. It is nothing to do with you--Sometimes I am just exhausted and can't help myself. I tried hard to stay awake, and I think you probably noticed that I was fighting it, and that's why you usually gave me a few minutes before making me wake up. Thank you for those few minutes. :)

Love Me Never Leave Me

2008-08-03T14:03:00.007-04:00

is an excellent book written by Marilyn Meberg. I am not even half-way through it, and it has already helped me in a big way.

I purchased this book at a Women of Faith conference just a couple of days ago. There were so many books that I was interested in, but this one just didn't seem to want to leave me alone, and it came along at just the right time.

I posted recently about my constant tears, fears, and the like. Well, I have been thinking about that, the first half in particular, quite a bit, and amidst all of this thinking, I have had a few thoughts.

One is that, I'm really not ugly. I may not be gorgeous, but I'm not ugly. And if I cry or shudder when I look in the mirror, it's not because I am ugly, it is because I am not pretty--at least, I am not the kind of pretty that is admired by the world.

So I think that the source of this insecurity is not in my appearance, because there's really nothing wrong with my appearance. I think the source of this is more that I would like for others to acknowledge my worth. If I want my appearance to be different, it is so that others will notice me, acknowledge me, and thus, acknowledge that I have value.

I also think that this is a desire that goes much farther than my longing to be "pretty." For instance, when I cried as a result of AOK's remarks about a movie character, it was not because the girl was prettier than me, exactly. It was that this girl was getting attention and admiration for her appearance, which was unlike mine--which meant that I was unworthy of that kind of attention or admiration. And if I am unworthy of this kind of admiration, and there are other girls who are worthy of it, then what is to stop Han from spending his time and thoughts on those girls over me?

Now you are probably thinking, "Hold up, o, I thought we were talking about your insecurity, and now you're talking about Han?" Yes. Han does not make me insecure, that is for sure, but my fear of him leaving is a very fertile place for insecurity to take root. That is what is has done, and it has flourished.

I knew both these things before reading Love Me Never Leave Me: I was highly insecure and I did not want Han to ever leave me. What I had not quite realized was that those two feelings were so closely connected.

Love Me Never Leave Me is a book about abandonment, but not just abandonment like being left on an orphanage doorstep. Marilyn, who has two master's degrees and a private counseling practice, goes into great detail about emotional abandonment and the fear of abandonment. She says that nearly everyone copes with abandonment issues in some way, even if it's subconcious, even if it's emotional, even if it's just the fear of abandoment, and that some struggle with it more than others. I think she is right. I can't explain it the way she can, so you should just go buy the book and read it.

So at around probably midnight or a little later last night, I've figured out that my insecurity is some form of an "abandonment issue", because it stems largely from my fear of being left by Han. And then I read this part of Marilyn's book, an account of how she felt after stealing communion crackers from her church's kitchen:

I didn't know it then, but I was suffering from shame. I feared that somehow I had so deeply offended God that I was not worthy of forgiveness. Surely only an unworthy pagan would steal symbols of Him. And if God wouldn't, or couldn't, forgive me, then He would surely reject me. He would abandon me, and I'd get left with all the other worthless sinners who had offended Him so mightily that He cast them away from His presence, never to be allowed readmittance.

And I thought, "Wow. I feel like that all the time." Fortunately, Marilyn's book is also full of scripture that reassures of us God's faith, love, and forgiveness. Thank God for Marilyn Meberg.

Anyway, I started thinking again, because I need the practice, and I was thinking about a time recently when I was crying, specifically for the fear of Han leaving me. One of the weirdest things about that night was that Han was with me (I don't usually cry in the presence of others). So I gave a great amount of thought to his reaction.

He was half upset, because he hates it when I am sad, and he hates it even more when I cry. But he was also half amused, because he sees my fears of him breaking up with me as unfounded and silly. He kept saying, "Honey, I'm not going to leave you, I love you. I've already told you that I won't break up with you, you don't need to worry about it."

I wonder if that's what God is doing when I fret and cry for the shame that Marilyn wrote about. So often, when I am miserable for that kind of shame, I envision God ignoring me... abandonment. But if God is who he says he is, then I had it all wrong, and that is not what would he would be doing at all. He would be more like what Han was doing, hugging me and, half-laughing, reminding me of things like Isaiah 41: 9 ("I took you from the ends of the earth, from its farthest corners I called you. I said, 'You are my servant'; I have chosen you and have not rejected you.") and 1 John 1:9 ("If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.") I know now that that is what he is really doing, and I think it will bring me so much peace in the nights to come.

<3 o.

p.s. : I highly recommend this book for anyone who does or does not think they have abandonment issues. Marilyn is a clever and witty writer, who knows how to incorporate just the right doses of humor with moving and influencial writing.

Are You Calling Me Irrational?

2008-08-01T00:14:00.005-04:00

Because I'll tear your head off, Daniel! I'm gonna tear it off, and I'm gonna... throw it over that fence!

-Kim from Freaks and Geeks

When writing in my blog, I often try to restrain myself from sounding too whiney or irrational, because I don't want to come off like that to anyone who will read it. It is a good practice, because when I try not to seem whiney or irrational, I actually think things through better, and I think that will make me less selfish and narrow-minded in my day-to-day life.

I have to remember, though, that I am not writing in this blog for the sake of others, I am writing it for me. If my main focus is to impress anyone who reads this, then I probably will not be able to fully benefit from my blog.

So, at the risk of once again sounding whiney and irrational (though not quite as whiney or irrational as in my post 'Can You Feel the Love Tonight? Oh Wait... No'), I am going to write exactly what I have been thinking, so that I can get it out of my system.

Let's talk about Elsa. Elsa has every reason in the world to be unhappy. If I had limited mobility or had to be dependent upon others, I would be unhappy all the time. It seems so difficult for her to make good friends, maybe because they feel awkward around her, or maybe because it is difficult to find people who can offer the extra help she will sometimes need, I don't know. It just seems that with nearly everything she has to do, there is a challenge involved... but she is still content a lot of the time. She has somehow been able to accept and move on. I've said that before, I know. I'm not done.

Elsa gets unhappy sometimes, like anyone else, often depending upon different things that are going on. She is miserable on occasion. (To me, unhappy is emotionally upset and miserable is crying.) I know those little facts about her because I asked. So why is it that Elsa, who has pretty much every right to be angry at the world, can be content, and I, who have almost no right to be angry at anything, can barely go a day without tears?

Am I really that unreasonable? A lot of times, my misery will stem from something relatively small. For example, today:

I am visiting Han at the hospital, and his friend, AOK, and his girlfriend, Tina, come in to see him also. While I am there, AOK starts randomly talking about some barely-clothed character in a movie, how hot she was, blahblahblah. I don't know about other people, but to me, that's just... really rude. And kind of insulting. It makes me very unhappy to know that Han's friend is willing to just sit there and talk about other women with both their girlfriends sitting right there... I mean, I understand that boys will be boys, and they have thoughts and whatever, but it would be nice if they could try to limit their fantasies about other women... or at least keep them to themselves?

Moving on, Tina didn't seem really bothered by it. Okay, so she's used to it, or she's sure enough of herself that it doesn't concern her. Not so much with me. It was a little occurrence, but it has just gnawed and gnawed at me for hours. It was like being pecked to death by ducks. It grew from annoyance with AOK to embarrassment of my appearance to insecurity about my ability to meet others' standards to distress about all three. So, in the end, I was in tears for probably an hour because Han's friend made a few remarks without really thinking (which he does a lot).

Can that possibly be normal? I have this feeling it isn't... but if it isn't, is it my fault? I know that I shouldn't be so sensitive/insecure, but it's not like I try to be. In fact, more often than not, I try not to be. It doesn't seem to be something I can help...

But, little o, everyone gets insecure, even to the point of tears, at times! Well, yeah, but where is the demarcation for unnaturally insecure? Depending on circumstances, I would not be surprised for some people to be so miserable, let's say, once or twice a month. And in certain cases, maybe if there is a specific long-lasting insecurity, I would think crying once a week would probably be reasonable. What kind of criteria would have to be met for someone to cry every day or every other day? I don't like to think of myself as self-centered, but I can't think of many other explanations.

I don't think I can be that self-centered. I mean... that doesn't even make sense. I care about people. I want to help people. Self-centered people don't care about or want to help people. Not really. And I actually make a conscious effort to not be self-centered.

Okay not really. Okay maybe. I don't know. Define 'mental illness.'

Bottom line: Something is so not right. I don't care if it's normal or not, crying six nights of the week over various insecurities and/or fears is just not right. I really hate it when people talk about their problems as if no one else has problems, and I'm afraid that that's what I just did. I just don't get it. I really don't understand why things get to me so easily... It's so easy for me to get upset, it's not even always other people.

It's like a nightmare. Except for the part where you wake up and it's all over.
-Adrian Monk from Monk

No, seriously. You know those nightmares where, when you wake up, you're still half in it, and you're kind of half-panicked because you haven't really acknowledged that you were asleep when it happened? Sometimes, I kind of get stuck there. One time, I had a dream that someone killed my dog, and I woke up crying over my dead dog, and it took me several minutes to remember that I don't have a dog. But... I do that a lot, and more often than not, I'm not even asleep when it happens. I just randomly have these horrifying nightmares, but while I'm awake. Someone is breaking into my room and he has a knife, Han cheated on me, I just recieved a phone call that my parents died in a car crash. Whatever it is, it's like I'm having the nightmare, but I'm not asleep... which makes it very difficult for me to wake up and acknowledge that I was asleep when it happened, because, um, I wasn't.

It's very confusing and very distressing. It is sometimes very hard to convince myself that whatever it was wasn't real. I have called Han at 2 o'clock in the morning and I sneak into my parents' and little sisters' rooms to make sure that it wasn't real sometimes. I have to, or else I just sit on my bed trying to remember if it really happened.

So the nightmare thing is a lot different from my oversensitive insecurities thing, but they are both big contributors to my constant misery, and I don't know what to do about either of them.

I don't really expect a response to this, mostly because it was entirely for my own benefit, but I also can't really imagine how anyone would respond to it. ^^; Have a lovely evening!

<3>

p.s. : Both images are from postsecret, which can be found under my Things You Should Click On list.

On To Square Two!

2008-07-31T00:47:00.005-04:00

The list of things that need to get done just grows and grows and grows... even during the summer! It seems that every time I accomplish something, there is a new thing (or two) waiting to take it's place. For example...

Accomplishment: I finally arrange a time to take senior pictures.
Setback: It rains.

Accomplishment: I get my bed moved. (No easy feat, since it was on top of 5' shelves and bolted to the wall.)
Setback: Han goes to the E.R. for the infection in his leg and has to stay overnight and get surgery.

Accomplishment: I arrange another time to take senior pictures.
Setback: I remember that I promised Grandma I'd go on this church trip with her... on the date I wanted to take senior pictures.

But! I think I have finally made an accomplishment with no setback! Tonight, I finally finished the angel drawing for the contest at a nearby cafe. It is due tomorrow, so I am just in time! Here it is.

( Details of her upper half, part of her wings, her harp, her face, and her ribbon/sash can be found here. )

The photography is really bad. My batteries were dying and also the light was not too good. I adjusted the brightness in photoshop because, even with the flash, everything looked gray. The only thing I might change is her mouth, and of course, I still have to sign it.

Also tomorrow, I will get my class schedule and (hopefully) Han's and Elsa's as well, which means that (hopefully) we can synchronize any inconsistencies... like lunch. It may be a little bit too optimistic to think that we can work out all the scheduling conflicts in one day, but I am going to ignore that for the time being. If all goes well, we will get it sorted out, and then I will have accomplished at least two things by the end of tomorrow! Hurrah!

...I'm certain I had more to say... but there is a really big bug over there, and it is totally distracting... See? There is always a setback... anything from hospital stays to really big cricket-things.

What square are you on?

<3>

Dream No Small Dreams

2008-07-28T22:34:00.001-04:00

...for they have no power to move the hearts of men.
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

# 1
I don't know if there is anything that would be more fun that working in Disneyland. Being a character, especially Alice, would be a dream come true, but even working with the entertainment and theater, character design, visual developement, or as a photographer would do the trick. It would be perfect if, during college, when I am apart from my friends, I could take a summer to go with Elsa and Han to live in California and work in Disneyland. And why not? Save up for a year or two, get a van or a truck, and rent a house. We can build ramps for Elsa, and if she's uncomfortable with us helping her with personal things, we can always hire a nurse (provided that we either save up enough or our parents would be willing to chip in). The hardest part, I think, would be guaranteeing ourselves a job in Disneyland. There are college programs, though, and we could always take advantage of that.

# 2
I would like a career that revolves largely around children and teenagers, possibly with some involvement in art as well. As far as children go, I wouldn't mind being a social case worker... I know that they are often fought against and disliked for taking children out of their homes, but I have seen too many children left in homes that were unsuitable, and someone has to do it. Pain that is inflicted on children is my least favorite kind, because children are so unable to defend themselves against it. I also would "enjoy" doing therapy with children from abusive homes, troubled youth, or people with personality/emotional disorders. Particularly when it comes to teenagers, my heart breaks for those who have such a loss of hope as to attempt suicide. I have a strangely strong desire to prevent it. As for the art, I think it would be great to do art therapy, or even make advances in that field (as it is fairly new), but if not, then I'll just do it on the side.

# 3
How long have I wanted to write a book? Several years. Writing seems to come naturally to me, based on teachers' comments and how easy it is for me to come up with stories. The real challenge is completing anything. Someday, I will write a book, maybe more than one. I can only hope that it will be good enough to be well-known and well-liked.

# 4
Of all the hurting people that I can think of, my heart goes out to two kinds in particular: Depressed teenagers (See # 2) and enslaved women and children. For a while now I have desperately wanted to go on some kind of trip to help somehow with the slave trade issue. I don't know how one goes about actually getting people out of slavery, but I would be much, much more than happy to help freed slaves develope the skills they need to build a life for themselves, whether it means reading/writing or an art form. I don't know if I can think of any other experience that sounds that gratifying.

# 5
I don't know how I feel about actually giving birth to a child. I am not very big and I am somewhat weak, but I still desperately want children, and I think that with my feelings for children born into bad environments, adoption seems like a good plan. I want to design and build a large house with my husband, with a really nice garden (on the roof, maybe?) and provide a good environment for children. I am scared half to death with the idea of not being able to raise a daughter or son correctly (a.k.a., my daughter sleeps around or my son is abusive), but I am too thrilled with the idea of providing a happy childhood to a child who would not have normally had one to let that hinder me... too much.

# 6
If there is ever a cure found for Elsa's condition, I'll be the first to help pay for it. And, as unlikely as it would ever be, if I ever find myself in the position to fund a large amount of research, it will be for her. I certainly can't imagine myself in her position, I'd be spiteful half the time and catatonic the other half, and it must be very difficult for her to keep cheerful sometimes.

# 7
To me, this seems more far-fetched than the last one, but I would really like to be known, at least a little, for my art. I don't know how one would go about doing that, but I can only hope that I will figure that out, as well as find the time and concentration to finish my "art" more often.

# 8
I want a big, beautiful wedding to share with the most perfect man ever. *coughHancough* It will be the most beautiful wedding that anyone has ever seen. The music will be perfect, the atmosphere will be perfect, the decor will be pure, elegant, and still unique. It's my only chance for a fairy tale, and I intend for it to be one. I'll design my own dress (and I will be a princess), I'll have a beautiful ice cream cake (complete with roses), and my ring will be simple, but graceful, with one (very, very shiny) diamond. Everything will just be... perfect. (Beware to anyone who tries to mess it up...)

<3 o.

Down the Rabbit-Hole: The Slump of the Century

2008-07-28T18:57:00.003-04:00

I cannot focus these last few days. I mostly walk around the house deciding to do various things, and then I spend approximately 30 seconds on each activity before I become bored or confused. A few nights ago, I actually forgot how to walk up the stairs mid-step. I paused with my foot in air, and all I could think was, "Where is the next step? I don't remember where the step is." I have been getting frustrated much more easily than normal, partially because I can't focus on one thing at at time and I get overwhelmed so quickly.

The only thing that has been able to hold my attention is Alice in Wonderland. Most people know that I constantly find myself wrapped up in "enthusiasms." It's no secret that I frequently become obsessed with different things, but Alice in Wonderland is the one that I seem to return to over and over again... I don't believe I shall ever become bored with Alice.

Everything to do with Alice in Wonderland, I love. In addition to the original books by Lewis Carroll (which I am currently reading), I am also enchanted with the Looking Glass Wars (which I shall read again soon). I have yet to see all the Alice in Wonderland movies (there are so many!), but my favorite thus far is the live action one made in 1985--It stays so true to the books, and the music is just phenomenal!

This recent bout of Wonderlove (a word I just made up) was inspired mostly by eatting breakfast with Alice and Mad Hatter in Disneyworld. However, this not only re-opened my love for Alice and Wonderland, it also introduced to me two new concepts:

1. The Mad Hatter is the most fantastic person in the entire world.

2. Alice in Wonderland isn't just a fantastic fantasy... It is actually within the realm of reality.

After meeting Alice and the Mad Hatter, I couldn't drop it. YouTube aided me in finding various videos of the two characters, mostly in Disneyland, and for the first time, it is possible that one of my enthusiasms could actually pervade my life in reality. Alice and Mad Hatter exist in Disneyland--I could exist in Disneyland as Alice. That is not beyond possibility.

Every since I first saw the 1985 Alice in Wonderland, I have wanted desperately to be Alice. Having tea with an insane hat-maker and dancing with white knights in a dark wood seemed delightful pasttimes to me. And now they seem all the more delightful, just by the sheer possibility of their actual occurrence.

On this note, I would also absolutely adore an Alice costume, as well as a Mad Hatter's hat.

Now, did anyone else see that? I have been trying for so very long to come up with something to write about, and as soon as I got onto the subject of Wonderland, I had little to no problem with staying on topic.

There is more I have to say, on a slightly different, but not altogether unrelated topic, but I will save it for later. Possibly later tonight.

<3>
p.s. : Here are two of my favorite Alice and Mad Hatter videos.

Can You Feel The Love Tonight? Oh Wait... No.

2008-07-26T22:54:00.007-04:00

It may very well be that nothing I am about ready to type will be worth reading, but Han is sick and Elsa has someone else over, and besides that, talking on the phone may result in being overheard, which would only result in wasted tears, sore throats, and mass chaos.

Dad is driving me freaking nuts. Seriously, he won't shut up. Ever since we got back from vacation, everything is negativity, negativity, negativity. And yeah, okay, I bet I provoked him some, but how can I help myself when he's acting like such a jerk? Only a couple of months ago he was saying that Clara (the bunny) wasn't being played with enough and that I needed to play with her more, and now he wants to put her in the garage? Why doesn't he just skin her and put in a pie? If we put her out there, it's a recipe for sickness and/or death. Bugs and cats get in there and it gets too cold during autumn and winter for her to not freeze to death. And it's not just that, it's everything he's said lately.

He's renovating my two younger sisters' rooms because they haven't been redone since we moved into this house, which is reasonable. I had mine redone a few years ago for my birthday. In addition, Dad's friend's father died a while ago and he left some furniture to my family. Now, in speaking of redoing the two bedrooms, Dad kept talking about "being fair to all three children", but he wants to not only completely re-paint and re-curtain and re-whatever their rooms, he wants to give one of them the furniture, too, which wouldn't be that big a deal except that I love the furniture, and how is that even "fair to all three children"? Okay, I had my room re-painted and everything a few years ago too... but as a birthday present. They are getting theirs redone just... so they can have theirs redone. But somehow, me wanting the old furniture that means nothing to anyone else is such a selfish thing that I deserve to be yelled at and chided for about an hour. I don't get that. I just don't get that. And THEN they said, "Well if you get the furniture, you have to give one of the other girls your room." What? Does someone need to review the definition of fair? Because I really don't see the fairness in that... or how putting my rabbit in the garage or the basement could even possibly be a good idea.

Call me crazy, but I am finding it very hard to believe that either of my parents care about me half as much as any of my sisters. I guess that of the four of us, I would be the "troublemaker", probably the more smart-alecky, rebellious one... but if they didn't bait me so much or completely ignore how I felt, maybe I wouldn't be so angry at them. It's like neither one of them care at all about all the effort I put into school to keep them happy or how admirable it is that I take initiative to do things like church and cleaning on my own (more church than cleaning I guess), and I don't think either of them acknowledge how hard it is for me to sometimes resist such common things as foul language, alcohol, or casual sexual...whatever.

Dad said that the older of my younger sisters deserved the furniture more because she has such low self esteem and not very many friends and it would really help her feel special and all I could think was, "Does this guy really think I have good self esteem? Has he not noticed that aside from Han, I have about 1 and a half friends?" It feels like my feelings are hardly taken into account, if they are at all. Is it any curiousity that I get snappy during conversations like that? Dad really likes the phrase, "I'm the parent, I'm in charge."

Well I'm the incredibly sensitive, distraught, somewhat emotionally-neglected daughter, so it'd be really appreciated if he'd shut up for like thirty seconds and take into consideration that I really am old enough to move out when I want. How seriously I would consider doing that would depend on any job that I get and how stressful school is once it starts. But let's look at it this way: If I move out, they will not help pay for college. However, I don't plan on going to an expensive college, and they weren't going to pay for all of it, probably only about four thousand a year. Which is a lot, but with the right job, I could pull it off. And even if I couldn't work enough during high school to pay rent at an apartment, as well as for food, Clara, and a car, which I guess it's pretty likely I couldn't, Han's family likes me and they have an extra bed. That would tick off Mom and Dad, but hey, if I'm not living with them and they aren't helping with college anyway, I really don't care. I could sleep in their spare room, pay for my own food and for Clara, and Han and I could both make insurance payments on the blue car. Sounds like a plan to me. More than likely a plan that I will never execute... but let's wait until I get a steady job to decide for sure.

I guess I've talked mostly about Dad so far. Mom hasn't really done anything except that she doesn't really seem to care how any of this makes me feel and she's not being all that objective. She always gets really angry if I say anything against Dad. Love is blind, I guess. I'm less angry at Mom than at Dad, for sure. If I accuse Mom of being uncaring, she is hurt, and I feel bad, because I know I was wrong. If I accuse Dad of not caring, he just gets angry... which pretty much just tells me that I was right. Still, back to Mom, I'm all about that phrase that if you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem, and if Mom's not going to try to help me at all, then she's only making it worse.

I'd really like to just not leave my room all day tomorrow. Maybe I'll take some cereal and a pitcher of water upstairs tonight and lock my door tomorrow morning.

Except I really like using the computer.

I am just so angry right now. Like I said, probably this was not worth taking the time to read, but I was really more considered with keeping my brain between my ears than entertaining anyone.

I wish Han wasn't sick. I also wish that I cared about my parents as much as they seem to care about me. That is to say, hardly at all at the time being. Then I wouldn't feel bad about moving out. I really don't want to be here. At all. I wish I had a friend's house that I could just go to whenever I was having a bad time at home, but, oh wait... I don't. And besides that, I don't have a car. Emily got a car when she turned 16... but when I turned 16, Mom and Dad bought a new car... for them.

Mom and Dad are good people. But I am really just not feeling the fairness or the love right now.

<\3 o.

Nobody Wants To Be Thought Of As Perfect.

2008-07-25T13:59:00.003-04:00

It's not a compliment.
-Dad

People, despite desperately wanting to be perfect... don't like perfect people. And people don't like to be considered perfect, either. At least not usually.

People that are considered perfect are annoying. Even though they aren't really perfect, they are better than us, and whether they acknowledge it or not, it's a problem. If they act as though they are better than us, we consider them show-offs or goody-two-shoes. If they don't, we think they are inappreciative or, for some reason, patronizing.

For people who aren't perfect, which is really everybody, it is really a pain when others think that you are perfect. Your own problems are ignored and laughed at because, hey, you don't have any problems! In fact, people that are considered perfect have problems, and they are magnified when people refuse to acknowledge them. If you can think of a time when you needed help with something and recieved it, can you imagine what it would have been like to be laughed at or disregarded instead of getting the help? It's a very painful thing.

So why do so many people seem obsessed with being perfect? I'll admit that I do it, too. But what is so enviable about "perfect"? Some "perfect" people are idolized from afar, but they are always loved best by the people who know that they are not without their flaws. In addition, if you are considered "perfect" by other people, your concerns will be demeaned and devalued by society. Take a look at all those "smart" kids you knew in school. Every time test results came back, what were they doing? They were anxiously awaiting to find out if they were still "smart" or if their efforts weren't good enough to meet standard. And what was going on around them? "What are you worried about? You ALWAYS get an A!" comes from every direction, and not usually in what you would call a reassuring tone.

Just because someone's problems seem illegitimate to you does not mean that you should disregard or mock someone's feelings. (And let's keep in mind... the fear of a low grade is worse for a "smart" kid than many others, because it is a bigger deal for them.)

Fears and concerns are not meant to be mocked or laughed at, then are meant to be solved, comforted, soothed, and reassured. Yes, even the problems of "perfect" people deserve attention, because even if you think they are unfounded... they are still there, and they are still real for that person.

People would do better to keep that in mind when they are dealing with someone they consider to be perfect... as well as when they are wishing that they were. When one is occupied by wishes of perfection, they should think of the "perfect student" and how they were treated... and remember that it's not all it's cracked up to be. (And that the people who act like perfection is such a big deal are inperfect themselves... and how would they know?)

<3 o.

School Days

2008-07-21T20:01:00.004-04:00

...are the unhappiest in the whole span of human existence.
-Henry Louis Mencken

School is only a few weeks away--much too soon for the comfort of my sanity.

I don't like school. I don't like it one bit. I don't like the people, I don't like the assignments, I don't like the timing, and I often don't like the teachers. I don't like the conventionalism, I don't like the lack of emotion, and I don't like the tests. I especially don't like all of the dislike that everyone has for everything that school involves.

I know what the beginning of school means. It means the end of summer! It means day after day spent in classes with teachers who don't care about me teaching me things that I don't care about! It also means spending too much of my time with people who see me as "That Smart Kid" or "That Weird Girl"! (Well excuse me for not having indiscriminant breeding at the top of my priority list!) It means the end of justice, humanity, and sleep as the world knows it!

Senior Year is the year that every high school student dreams of, and I can see why: The end of Senior Year marks the end of your life in a small town full of small minds. It is the end of four years of repetitive hallways. It is the beginning of true independence.

But Senior Year is still a year of high school. It will have all the same challenges and frustrations--as well as all the same joys and laughter. It will even have some new ones. (People who forget this are people who catch "Senioritis". It is commonly believed that all Seniors catch this, but it is my opinion that there are a select few, such as myself, that suffer so badly from "Academic Honors" that in order for them also have symptoms of "Senioritis" they probably have some kind of Multiple Personality Disorder... which in all honesty is probably a much bigger problem either educational disease.)

And really, what is so exciting about starting college? You lose all consistency and familiarity with your surroundings, and all of your friends are too far away to help. You have to make new friends (which I am not good at) and you have to actually be responsible... for everything.

Many Seniors (as a symptom of "Senioritis") decide that Senior Year and what happens during it are of the least importance, because it is the last year. The opposite is true. Senior Year and what happens during it are of the MOST importance because it is the last year.

<3>

In The Words Of Worldman: Tickled

2008-07-10T00:08:00.005-04:00

Since I have began my blog, there have been a couple of people who have actively followed me and left me comments and encouragement: Peter (Worldman) and Anji. (They are both on the list of Things You Should Click On, which I just figured out how to add.)

I would like to apologize to them, because I am not as good at being active like they are. Every time I recieve a comment from them, I feel like I have recieved a prize, because I know that I leave very few comments. I want them to know that even though I don't comment very often, I do enjoy reading their blogs very much. :)

In addition, I think they both deserve a giant thank-you, and especially Peter, who has been trying so hard to get more traffic to my blog. Peter has done me the great honor of awarding me the "Arte y Pico" award for blogs. I am tickled! Unfortunately, I don't think I know five people to award it to, so I'm going to have to put it on hold, but I will send it on. :)

I will update again soon, and I will be on the look-out for lovely blogs. :D

<3>

Emily

2008-07-09T10:19:00.003-04:00

Emily is my big sister. For most people that I talk about here, I change their names, but I just cannot change Emily's, because it is too perfect for her.

Emily and I look almost exactly alike. One time, I was in the Wal-Mart parking lot, and someone Emily knew from school saw me and thought I was her. When I told him that I was actually his sister, he said, "...I didn't know Emily had a twin..." Even people at our church confuse us. Emily has about shoulder-length hair, and I'm infamous for my elbow length hair, and one day, a woman at church saw Emily and stopped her, exclaiming, "You cut all your hair!" Well, no, she hadn't.

I always used to hate that everyone told me I looked like Emily, but eventually, I was kind of happy that they did. I liked it that I was like Emily. Her nickname was Emmo, and for a while, I called myself "Lil Emmo" or sometimes "Lil Emo" (sometimes we had to shorten Emmo to Emo for video games or something, and it was also a common place of discussion for her friends as to whether or not Emily was Emo).

I don't think I could ever admit it to Emily, but she's probably the closest thing I have to a role model. I have learned so much from her without her knowing it. I guess that's kind of common for sisters, but Emily and I aren't very close, so it came as almost a shock to me when I realized that I take after her.

I always enjoy being around Emily (except when she's mad at me) because she's almost always so funny, so I try to behave a lot like her so my friends will enjoy being around me just as much.

I also try to dress like her. I used to think that the way Emily dressed was 'cool', but I have sinced learned that it wasn't really the in-style way to dress, it was just cute and unique.

One of the biggest thing I admire about Emily is probably... well I don't if there's a name for it. It's that when she has decided on something, she doesn't change. She knows what is right and wrong and she acts accordingly. She knows what she wants in a guy, and she won't date anyone but. She is hard-working and firm, without being overly intense or just flat-out stubborn, which is what I tend to be.

Emily has taught me several things, but there is one that stands out.

I had always thought of Emily has the perfect A student sister with the nicest friends and everything working out great for her. And at the point in time when she was applying to and starting college, she wasn't all that nice to me, or at least I didn't think she was. So I complained endlessly about her not knowing what her major would be or what she wanted to do (she didn't decide for years), mostly because Mom and Dad were helping to pay for a lot of the college, and I thought the money could be better spent sending me to a different school.

Well, everyone has a secret that, in some way or another, will probably break your heart.

I'm pretty sure my heart broke when, after she'd moved out, I was looking through all her old papers and found a journal entry about how she felt different and inferior to her friends and how confused she was about what to do with school. (I'm sorry that I was going through your stuff, Emily! Even though you will never read ths...) Well, I pretty much felt like a huge jerk.

Emily is just full of surprises. Another example of this is that Emiy never really had a boyfriend, and I thought it was because that's the way she wanted it. I remember coming home one day and Emily was at the counter eatting forkfuls of cookie dough and looking completely dejected. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me that this boy she had liked "wasn't in love with her." I asked her if we had wanted him to be, and she said, "Well, yeah." Long story short, Emily was completely crushed that he liked this other girl and not her and that she had even confessed her feelings, and I agreed to run the other girl over with the truck.

To finish up, I think Emily is one of the greatest people in the world. Even though we are almost identical, she is way prettier than me. She is also considerate and fun-loving, and definitely one-of-a-kind! She is so smart and hard-working and dedicated, but somehow she still manages to be relaxed and funny. She has really worthy goals and I think she is pretty much as perfect as big sisters come.

I don't know anyone who doesn't like Emily, but if I ever anyone who didn't, I think I'd have to shove a pencil up their nose.

<3>

Oh, It's A Jolly Holiday With Mary!

2008-07-06T17:55:00.003-04:00

So, on the approximately 15-hour drive here, I was listening to my iPod in the back and my sisters had the computer out in the seats in front of me watching Disney's Mary Poppins. I wasn't really in the mood for movie-watching, but I hadn't seen Mary Poppins in a while, and I really like it, so I paused my iPod to watch it for a little bit.

It occurred to me how much Bert (Mary Poppin's sort-of boyfriend) is like Han--they are both absolutely smitten about their girl, brag on her, like to be funny, and will do anything to be entertaining--especially for their girl.

Only, I'm not like Mary Poppins, and in no way do I deserve someone like Bert. I am not nearly as pretty or witty as Mary Poppins, but that's not the point. The point is that I am not as fun-loving or lovable as Mary Poppins.

So have I ever mentioned before that I don't feel like I deserve Han? I'm certain I have, but it has been bothering me so much lately.

No. What bothers me the most is not that I feel like I don't deserve him, it's the fear that he'll realize it.

We went to the doctor recently to get me some medication for my migraines. Before, there was nothing they could give me that would work because I was under 18. I now have two medications--one for the small, daily headaches and one for the really big monster migraines. The one for my small headaches is usually used as an anti-anxiety medication, and fixing headaches is just kind of a side job. But I'm hoping that since it's also an anti-anxiety medicine, maybe it will make me more relaxed and fun to be around. :) Here's hoping!

<3 o.

We All Dream

2008-06-27T22:32:00.003-04:00

...we do not understand our dreams. yet we act as if nothing strange goes on in our sleep minds, strange at least by comparison with the logical, purposeful doings of our minds when we are awake.
-Erich Fromm

As of late, a lot of weird things have been happening in my dreams and in my life. I have been thinking about them a lot lately and I just thought I'd share them with you.

Twice, I have dreamed about going to Plato's Closet and looking for my lost ITALIA shirt. I found it in the first dream, but I couldn't buy it at the time (maybe because I was asleep in bed...), and in the second dream, they were rearranging the store so that only part of it was rearranged by color. I don't remember if I ever found my shirt, but I think I did. I hope I keep having those dreams, because it makes me feel better about my shirt being there. I know that my dreams are only my subconcious working out things that are on my mind, but it still feels reassuring to me.

I don't know if I have mentioned this before, but I don't like to sleep. I hate sleeping. Every time I sleep, I feel like I'm wasting time. Every hour I spend asleep, I could be drawing, talking, writing, reading, watching, and I remind myself of that all the time.

So it's really weird that I have taken a nap almost every day this summer, including at my friend's house on my birthday! I get ten to fourteen hours of sleep every day... that's a lot! Especially for me! Now, sometimes it's because I'm actually tired. But in the morning, I won't wake up because I always want to finish my dream. In the most recent one that I remember, I was in New Jersey, and I was with a bunch of street kids on some kind of trip. Something went wrong, and we had to make our way down McCormick's Creek (which, by the way, is in Indiana), but it wasn't much of a creek, it was more like a really huge, really fast river. One boy in particular offered to help. We rode down the creek on this log, and it was amazing. The boy was African American, and I remember thinking at one point, "Wow, he has got the most gorgeous skin I have ever seen." He told me his name was McCormick's Creek. It was really weird, and even though I stayed in bed two extra hours to see how the dream ended, I don't remember.

A few nights ago, I was taking Greg home, and we stopped a thrift store to see when it opened. The thrift store was right next to the square, and Kalel (a boy that Elsa really likes) was on the square with a friend and we talked a little bit, and he seemed... really weird. Not nearly as nice or fun as he normally is, and Elsa had recently been talking about how he sometimes acts different or ignores her around different people. So, a couple of nights later, I was talking to her about her thinking that Kalel was this perfect guy, when really, he would disappoint her at times even if they did date, because he seemed to be kind of superficial, and she... sort of freaked out.

Elsa doesn't dream. I mean, everyone dreams, but she never remembers her dreams. It turns out that the reason she spazzed was because the same night I ran into Kalel on the square was the night she had a dream about him ignoring her around a bunch of other people, and it was the only dream she had ever remembered.

So, a lot of strange things have been happening in the sleep of me and others lately. And that's all I got.

<3 o.

I Awoke With Devout Thanksgiving For My Friends.

2008-06-25T22:38:00.001-04:00

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Well, today was my eighteenth birthday! Yay me!

But this entry is not about me.

Today was, of course, loads of fun. Elsa was a large part of that. :) I thought she had already given me my birthday present, a Tinkerbell keychain, but she surprised me today with Tinkerbell stamps, stickers, paper, and a necklace! We also went to go see a movie (Kung Fu Panda), which I thought I was going to pay for, but then she and her mom did. :)

Elsa is a very special friend to me. She is in a wheelchair, but that's not really why she is special. Unlike me, Elsa has been able to overcome the all-too-common mental disability of "I Want To Be Like That." In other words, she has already accepted that she can't be like everyone else, and realizes that wanting it is only a waste of time, and that she should be working on building her life as she is. That is something I am not sure I will ever be able to do.

Sometimes Elsa can be a little selfish, or might not think about how her actions will affect others, but she has been better about that as of late, and even if she can be selfish at times, I think that most of the time, she is focused on her friends. Elsa really knows the value of a good friend, because they are so hard for her to come by. Most people can't see beyond four wheels and a battery to see the heart, the mind, and the smile sitting on top of them. I wish they could, though, because they are missing out.

In addition, she is constantly impressing me with different things that she can do. I am constantly amazed at her abilities, considering that her hands aren't fully flexible. She can write and draw and play video games and open her door and play with her cats and take photographs and all kinds of things all by herself, and I so admire her ability to do things even with her setbacks.

Han also made my birthday really special. :) We are going to Holiday World tomorrow (that's a small theme park / water park a few hours away) and he has been so sweet all day. He doesn't have a steady job right now, and he has been working so hard to be able to take me to Holiday World. In addition, he bought me some "Melt Away Stress" bodywash... how cute! :P

Like Elsa, Han has impressively overcome crummy circumstances to become something admirable. His family is somewhat, eh, shall we say... well, it's just not really a good situation. I have talked about his mom before, but in addition, his father used to be abusive. His sister (kind of) grew up after running away, stealing a van and a gun, getting pregnant twice in high school, and stealing various amounts of money and medication from her mother. That considered, I would say it's miraculous that Han somehow turned out so good. He doesn't smoke, drink, or even curse, and we even go to youth group together.

Han is an amazing guy. He's so sensitive and caring, and patient with my ridiculous fears and obsessions. I also know that I don't have to worry about any kind of safety issue when he is around. I could go on about him for hours.

And, of course, my own family was a great contributor to my wonderful birthday. :) I had made up a list of things I would like for my birthday--a choice of a group of small items or one large item (a keyboard). Surprisingly, I got both! I got everything on my list, including the keyboard, and even a princess-themed party. :) (I'm such a mature 18-year-old, yes?) Mom and Dad really out-did themselves, I feel so special. I am always concerned about them spending money on me, and so I tried not to sound like I wanted anything too much, but they went out of their way for me anyway. :) Maybe it sounds shallow, but I don't think it is. They didn't buy the things because I wanted them, they bought them because they knew they were things I would use and enjoy.

My little sisters, too. One got me a really nice musical snow-globe with Tinkerbell inside it that was on sale at a Disney store, and one of them made me a Sailor Moon tiara and locket. I think that this birthday was really special involving them because I have been trying to be a better big sister lately. I know they look up to me, and I want to be a good example. Hopefully I am doing that.

I thank God for the loving family I was given, and the amazingly strong friends I have acquired. :)

<3 o.

Well, Crud.

2008-06-23T19:36:00.005-04:00

For a couple of years now, I've had a t-shirt that just hangs in my closet. It is a very nice t-shirt that I got on sale, and it fits me perfectly. It is a light peach-pink with the red word "ITALIA" written across the front with a green border. I never wore it because it was also a reminder of a painful time during my life, during which I wore it a lot (it was brand new then). Since then, I have never been able to wear it, but couldn't bring myself to throw it away.

Today, I thought I would sell some shirts and stuff to Plato's Closet for a few extra dollars, a plan that ultimately failed, and while getting the clothing together, I thought, "I'll never wear that shirt again. I might as well not keep it." So I put it in the bag with the rest of the shirts.

It happened to be one of the few items I actually ended up selling to them, and as soon as I walked out of that store, I immediately realized that I'd made a mistake in getting rid of it.

Even though it was a sad part of my life, and it is over, I cannot get rid of or forget about what happened during it. It is impossible to delete part of one's life, but even if it were possible, it would be a foolish thing to do. And even though I don't enjoy thinking about it, if I had the choice, I would not throw away those memories. They are sad, yes, but they have taught me good lessons, and even though they are over, I am certain that they will come in handy in the future.

So I regret selling my t-shirt. Like my memories from that part of my life, I'm sure I could have gotten a few more good wears from it.

Now, I'm not really one to pass up opportunity. So, if I find an opportunity to rescue that shirt from the depths of obscurity and an existence of meaninglessness, I shall indeed do so.

Hopefully I can find the time to create that opportunity before anyone kidnaps it from the Plato's Closet rack...

<3 o.

Dear Mr. Nelson,

2008-06-20T00:11:00.005-04:00

Remember when you were always so proud of us because we were your "First Class"? You always acted like we were so special to you, because we were the first band you got to teach all yourself, without any other band instructors before you. You got to teach us everything from scratch.

I really wish you hadn't decided to leave before we graduated.

I know a lot of students make fun of you for whatever reason, but that is the way it is with high school students. We are just stupid, Mr. Nelson, and we don't recognize good character where we see it. Most of us didn't know how totally awesome you could be. I guess I didn't know very much either. But I do know this: The fact that you went on a Disney Cruise for your honeymoon is pretty much the awesomest thing I have ever heard of. And the fact that you and your wife bought Harry Potter at midnight when it came out is pretty cool, too, for a teacher.

So I hope you don't think that I quit band because of anything to do with you. I probably was not the best student, but I really did like your class, and I really did miss it after I dropped it. I know I said that I was dropping it because it didn't fit in my schedule, but that wasn't entirely true, and I feel like I at least owe you a true explanation.

I dropped band because I have a huge self esteem issue and I couldn't stand sitting next to the dancers another game. I could not do it. I know that the dancers are not really of an enviable moral standing, but let's face it, they're pretty. And I hated having to march around or sit there in a shapeless uniform or t-shirt while there they were, being watched and admired and applauded and pretty. I know it's not really the band's fault that I felt that way. I'm sure I would have felt that way if I went to a game as a student, but as a student, I would not have chosen to go to a game, and as a band member, I cried before and after almost every single one.

I really am sorry that I dropped band. I'm also sorry that I never got around to giving you the blank CD so you could burn all the pieces I wanted recordings of (all the Broadway or movie pieces and any of the pep band pieces you had recorded).

I am going to miss you very much next year. If I'd had a brain, I would never have dropped Music Theory last year so that I could take Art. Art... was an unbelievable mistake. And now it's too late to take Music Theory with you. Mr. Nichols is going to teach it and it is going to be boring and uneducational. No offence to him, but he just always seems so unenthusiastic and... I don't know. I was just really looking forward to having you for a teacher for another year.

Is the real reason that you're moving to Florida really for a better job? Florida is 48th in the U.S. for education, you know. Or maybe you want to be closer to Disney World? I couldn't blame you for that.

Well, I guess I've said all I need to say. I hope you have fun in Florida, and that whatever job you get there is worth the move. :)

<3 o.

p.s. : I am probably going to Disney World for the first time ever this summer! Maybe I will see you there.

Where Dreams Come True

2008-06-18T20:48:00.003-04:00

Or not.

My parents have just informed me that there is a 90% chance that we will go to Disney World this summer. I have always, always wanted to go to Disney World!

So why am I not excited? I have a few theories.

One is that I'm going with my family. I know that sounds mean, but I feel less able to be hyper, energetic, and outgoing when I'm with my family. For example, let's imagine a scenario that we walk past a princess a couple hundred feet away.
With family: "Hey, you guys, look! There's a princess over there! Look! Should we go see her?"
With friends: *gasp* "Ohmigosh! There's a princess over there! Look! Look at the princess, let's go see her! Please! Let's go!" [while jumping up and down and hugging someone's arm]

Another theory is that, after my parents rejected the Disney World plan in junior high, I made other plans for my first trip to Disney World. Neither Han or I have been to Disney World before, so we both kind of wanted to go for the first time together. Even aside from that, I know he'll miss me and be disappointed. He's got this thing about the differences between our parents, that my parents care about me and my happiness and his parents don't care about his. (I used to think that was ridiculous. But then his mom wouldn't give him money to eat, just so she could buy herself a pack of cigarettes and I started to see a pattern.) But anyway, not only is that disappointing his expectation with that, but it's also going to make him even more upset that while I have parents who like to go places, do things, and actually spend time together, his parents like to take his truck, fish without him for about 14 hours a day, and expect the house to be spotless when they come home (when they are the ones who mess it up to begin with).

Even if I didn't get to go with Han for the first time, I'd also had this sort of secret dream of going to Disney World for the first time on my honeymoon. I'm not engaged or anything right now, but I just think that that would enhance the magic so much more. It was a silly dream to begin with, but it's just kind of sad for me to have to part with it.

It's stupid for me to be this disappointed that I'm going to Disney World. It really is. I'm just worried that this isn't going to live up to all the expectations I'd had for it.

<3 o.

A Child's Touch

2008-06-16T23:35:00.003-04:00

Bowling is not really something I am good at. But Han loves it, so I decided, "Hey, why not give it a try?" Our school gave out little cards that let you get one game a day free all summer, so I figured I might as well put it to use.

A little bit of information about me: When I am not good at something, I get very, very upset. If someone tries to make me feel better, I get more upset, because that means that I'm noticably bad. So for a long time, this bowling thing wasn't working out for me.

So the other day I was bowling with Han, and there was this family in the lane next to ours and they have this little boy with them. They are using bumpers, so the little boy isn't doing too badly. He always rolls the ball so slowly. I was not using bumpers, and I was very frustrated because my goal that day was to break 80. I got a gutterball and, clearly upset, went to sit down while Han bowled.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around. The little boy was sitting behind me, kind of turned around and hiding behind the back of his seat. He had big eyes. I smiled at him, even though I was upset, and he returned it, then turned back around, but I kept catching him looking at me for the next couple of minutes.

I did better after that, for some reason. :) I remember later in the game, we both bowled at the same time, and he knocked over about half the pins, and when he turned around to walk back, he looked at me and said, "I won!" I told him good job. He was so cute. ^^

I really love little kids. They always make me so happy. Every time I'm out somewhere with Han and I see a little kid, I just have to point them out and grin. We were in McDonalds once when a little girl with blonde ponytails kept looking over her seat at us. She was so adorable! We made faces back and forth at each other throughout the whole meal.

One thing that I think makes children so charming is that they always seem to be so innocent and, well, good. They seem to enjoy cheering people up, and they are good at it.

Some people would argue that children are naturally bad, with an instinct towards bad things. That's probably true. Children can be heartless and mean at times. But that's a human, isn't it? An instinct towards evil, but a conscious towards good. :) A child is an adult before they've been affected by the environment. Depending largely on the environment, a 'child' may end up with an instinct to do good, such as the urge to help someone on the street or help with the community. And some 'children' may grow to be an adult with no conscious, such as a serial killer or the owner of a huge, isolated business. (Nothing agains business owner people, but really, some of them just don't care about people as long as they are making money.)

So I guess children aren't exactly pure, but since they haven't been as affected by the environment as older people, they come off as much purer than older people in many cases. I can't forgive people who hurt children because of that. They are such beautiful little treasures, with no real way to defend themselves, so when I hear about someone having hurt a child, I just fume and fume and fume. I wish people would be more careful about what they say and show to their children, too. I wish their innocence could be better preserved, but the culture that we have, at least here, doesn't allow it to last more than a few years.

Which makes the little kids all the more special to me. :)

<3 o.

Happy Father's Day

2008-06-08T10:30:00.006-04:00

My dad and I don't get along very well, for three reasons: We both possess a horrible temper, we are both unreasonable when angry, and we are both tied for 'Most Stubborn Person In The History Of The Planet."

So it shouldn't surprise anyone that it took me approximately forever to find out that I really do love my Dad. Like a lot. But I really do. I'm constantly impressed by his strength, fairness, and love.

My dad is really tough. Even when he's sick or injured, he still manages to get things done. Also, I can honestly tell people, "My dad could beat up your dad." :P He is also a kitten-lover. He doesn't like cats so much as he likes kittens. We did have one cat, though, that he loved, named Big Daddy. Big Daddy was a special cat because he was a tame wild cat. What I mean is, he was a big, tough stray, but when he finally started living with us, he never scratched any of us once, and, unlike a lot of male cats, he was not mean to kittens. In fact, he'd wash them and sleep with them like a mother. Dad and Big Daddy were tight.

So Dad didn't take it too well when two of the neighbor's dogs killed Big Daddy. Dad kept the gun by the door for weeks for the scenario of the dogs coming back, which they only did once, and, unfortunately, Dad forgot where he'd put the bullets.

Big Daddy, unlike any of our other cats, got a padded wooden box to be buried in, and three pine trees planted over and next to him. That was Dad's doing.

That was a long story. It was meant to illustrate Dad's soft side.

One thing I really like about Dad is that he is a very good husband to Mom. I know it is not uncommon for couples to divorce, even multiple times, and I'm very proud that I can say my parents still love each other very much.

I complain about my dad a lot, but I really do appreciate him and all he does. He's a very hard worker and takes very good care of us (which can't be easy with four daughters).

<3 o.

p.s. : The picture is from postsecret.com

Not For Sale

2008-06-02T11:02:00.006-04:00

"I am not for sale. You are not for sale. No one should be for sale."

The Not For Sale Campaign [www.notforsalecampaign.org] is a group of people, any and all people, fighting human trafficking and the global slave trade.

On the website, you can find ways of helping to fight the slave trade, information on how the human trafficking industry is flourishing, updates on what people are already doing, descriptions of the lives of those in bondage, and a store that sells jewelry and t-shirts made by the abolitionist groups and books written by no-longer-enslaved people.

I read some of the blog entries about people, especially children, who had been abducted, sold, or tricked into slavery, and it absolutely tore my heart to pieces. I have a very, very soft spot in my heart for mistreated and hurting children, so discovering so much suffering on such a level was a real heart-wrenching thing for me.

Something that really got me was that this isn't just happening in far-away places like Cambodia, Myanmar, and Thailand, but even in countries like New Zealand, Canada, and the U.S. In fact, Craigslist.com, which is popularly used to find garage sales, is in fact becoming a larger and larger part of the slave trade industry, yet they seem to be doing little to nothing about it.

So now my feelings for this have grown beyond sorrow and longing to help children and women in distant lands to a fear of this becoming a threat to me in my own home.

Please visit NotForSaleCampaign.org and learn more about this tragedy. If you can, do something. Spread the word, make a donation, go on a trip, read a book. Do anything you can, even if it's very small, because something has to be done. "If something has to be done, do something. Even if you don't know what to do, don't just do nothing." Nothing is beneficial enough to justify an industry of human suffering. I hope that this campaign can grow until it really does wipe out the global slave trade.

<3 o.

Sometimes, I Wish I Could Be Really Mean

2008-05-29T09:17:00.003-04:00

Particularly to Psycho. I really, really wish I could be mean to Psycho. I don't cuss or use swear words, but if I did, you'd be hearing a lot more about her. But that aside, the girl is just flat-out cruel. For example, Jaxie was a girl in Psycho's class, and they both graduated this year. Psycho and a lot of her friends hate Jaxie, and I'm not sure why. Jaxie, like anyone, can get annoying, and she can be rude sometimes, but she's nothign compared to Psycho. Anyway, Jaxie was planning on going to college at Boston. She's also valedictorian, which means she has to give a speech. So Psycho and her friends made t-shirts to wear under their graduation robes that read, "We Feel Sorry For Boston." The way our graduation is set up, they are facing her during her speech, so if they unzipped their robes, she'd be able to see them, and that was the plan.

Fortunately, Jaxie found out, and the plan was thwarted. (The principal found out and told them they wouldn't get their diplomas--ever--if they did it. I half wish he hadn't told them.)

And that aside, Psycho is very rude to everyone. Believe me, having to sit in front of her for an hour every day for a year was not fun. I actually cried in class a little about some things she'd said to me, and I never cry in class. I don't even remember what she said now, but I remember it was really humiliating.

I wish I could be really mean to Psycho. I know where she works and what her cars looks like. I want to superglue her gas cap to her car, and I want to superglue BB's in the tire caps. I want to use shaving cream to write "Who's Cool Now, You Little Fungus?" on the hood of her car, and maybe leave a box of rabbit poo in her trunk. Unfortunately, the odds of me doing any of that are slim to none, because, unlike Psycho, I just can't do something like that.

And I'm not sure why. She deserves it. I guess that as a young Christian lady, I know that I'm not supposed to seek revenge on people. But doesn't God sometimes use people to get vengeance on other people? I thought so.

I really hope he uses me to get revenge on Psycho.

<3 o.

A Euphemism for Drunk

2008-05-28T22:51:00.004-04:00

,also known as:

" Little o. Is Probably One Of The Most Irrational People Ever, And Has Recently Become Even More Easily Pushed To Tears Or Irritability And Pretty Much Everyone Hates It Including Her Except No One Thinks Of That So She's Just Going To Keep On Eatting Way Too Much Ice Cream, Watching Sailor Moon, And Maybe Drawing Some Pictures. "

Two words: over emotional.

I don't know what has gotten into me lately. It seems like I'm either crying, yelling, or singing all the time. I've always been very sensitive, but lately it's just been completely out of hand, and I get inexplicably tired or sleepy for no reason.

I also have a slight sunburn.

I'm going to bed early so I can get up early and get some stuff done, like laundry or cleaning. Maybe it will make me feel like I've accomplished something and I'll feel better.

Today I didn't really have much of a point in updating other than that I really hate being so miserable all the time. Everyone is upset at me for it, but it's like they all think I am enjoying it or something.

Let's all keep in mind:

I hate crying more than you hate hearing it!

<3>

A Two-For-One Deal

2008-05-27T14:39:00.004-04:00

I remember when I first started drawing, Sailor Moon was a huge inspiration for me. It was all i drew for about... forever. Anyway, I didn't really get to watch it very often because we only get 3 channels, and I eventually grew out of it. Recently, though, a friend of mine started asking me questions about learning how to draw, and I told her I did it mostly by observing and mimicking other art... mainly Sailor Moon. And so here I go again.

I have started watching Sailor Moon a lot recently, on YouTube. Now, I have noticed a lot of similarities between me and Sailor Moon (as if anybody cares). Firstly, we're both extreeemely ditzy and somewhat clumsy. We are overly emotional, and everything falls into one of two categories: worth crying over, or worth laughing hysterically over. We're both hopeless romantics and looove food. :P

Sailor Moon fights a lot with another Sailor Scout, Sailor Mars. I mean a lot. They disagree on everything. Sailor Mars is impatient and has a nasty temper. She can be full of herself and hates immaturity. She can be insensitive and sometimes gets a little desperate for attention. The funny thing is, I'm also like that.

When my friends and I read books, watch movies, or play video games, we have a lot of fun picking out characters for ourselves, and quite often, we have trouble picking between two for me, and they are often opposites, if not downright enemies.

Nearly everyone I know agrees that I almost have two personalities, and I would attest to that more strongly than anyone. I inwardly fight with myself all the time. I often cannot decide if I am sympathetic or fed up with someone.

Some people might assume that I'm faking a nice personality, when I'm really critical and impatient, but it's really not that at all. I'm just as sincerely Sailor Moon as I am Sailor Mars.

So I'm an interesting person to interact with. As if each of those personalities on their own weren't enough to deal with, if you're with me, you might have to put up with both of them. But on the other hand, it's kind of like you get two friends, too. :P

<3 o.

The Monster Returns

2008-05-21T22:10:00.004-04:00

When I was in first grade (about 7 years old), I began to get migraines. Apparently, there it is either uncommon for a first grader to get migraines, or mine were unnaturally bad, because we had all sorts of tests done. We had CATscans and MRIs and one of those funny thing where they stuck wires to my head and tests for brain tumors and stuff for three years, until fourth grade, when they were finally like, "Uh... we don't know what's wrong with your head, so... bye."

After a little bit, they finally stopped, but around Freshman year of High School, they started again. I don't know if they are different or the same as the ones of elementary school, but they are horrid. For a while, they seemed to "attach" them selves to a cause, such as as the scent or taste of popcorn, before/after that time of the month, any time with high emotions, loud music, or wearing a tight ponytail, and they would switch. They would stay on one event for a few months, and I'd get a migraine every two weeks to a month, and then they'd go to a new cause. It was quite miserable.

They last for hours. They start in the afternoon as a kind of nuisance where I just brush it off like an idiot. Then around 6 or 7 it becomes a big nuisance and by an hour later I'm on the floor in utter agony. It gets so bad that I actually bang my head on the wall to make it feel better. I throw up for hours at time, every ten to fifteen minutes, with restless sleep in between, which often involves head-holding, groaning, and sometimes twitching/jerking.

Often, I lose the entire contents of my stomach and afterwards my body will continue to try to throw up, but there's nothing, so my body ends up jerking violently. It is a most uncomfortable experience.

Well, I haven't had one for several months, but I got one today, right after the chemistry final (Which I got an A on!). This is a really bad time to be getting a migraine. I have finals tomorrow.

I don't want to live the rest of my life never knowing when I'm going to be attacked like this, but none of my doctors can figure out what's wrong, so they can't really fix it.

Le sigh. I know that this post didn't really have an underyling message. It was just me talking about something that brings me misery, because none of my friends really understand. None of them get migraines (How I envy them!).

Thanks for listening! I'll update soon with something more exciting. :)

<3>

edit : i was talking to Mom about my migraines recently, and I found out that I didn't start getting them in first grade, I started getting them when I was two, and that the main reason the doctors didn't give me any medicine was because the only things they thought might be strong enough, they weren't allowed to give to children.
So, here's a new hope for the age of 18: No more migraines! Could something that wonderful actually happen? :D

To See The Summer Sky Is Poetry

2008-05-19T18:37:00.006-04:00

School is nearly over.

This time of year is full of many emotions: stress, relief, impatience, joy, apathy, exhaustion, excitement. But this year, I have found a new one: Dread. I am dreading this summer. Before me lies an expanse of just under three months, and that is not very much time to get something done in, but it is too much time to lay to waste. So here is the very difficult question that I am faced with: What am I going to do?

I have a few answers, and whatever they are, they had better be nearby, because I'm telling you, gas is not cheap, and it is even less cheap when you are jobless. So,

I am going to get a job. I hope I am, at least. I really need money.

I am going to re-learn the Japanese alphabets. I am taking Japanese next year, and I have known some before, but I think it would be a good idea to get a head start. I want to get as much out of this one year of Japanese as I can.

I am going to draw. A lot. I am going to hone my art skills to the point that they were at before I started taking Art in school, and then I'm going to (hopefully) sell more commissioned portraits.

I am going to write. I have always wanted to be published, and I think now would be a good time to start on it. I have lots of good ideas that have been developing in my head all year.

I'm going to apply to college. Let's not talk about that.

I am going to run. Now, I hate heat, and I hate sweat. But, I love how I feel when I run. I love the exhaustion that follows and I even love how my legs ache afterwards. It reminds me that I have done something. Plus, it works miracles for my appearance.

I am going to turn 18. Of course, with new freedoms comes way too much responsibility. However, this is the summer of my 18th birthday, and that will only happen once. Afterwards, the taste of freedom will probably never taste as sweet, and because of this,

I am going to enjoy it. Yes. I am going to take all of these things that I love and that I need and I'm going to do them and I'm going to like it. At the end of the summer, I will not be greeted with the familiar feeling of, "There went three months of my life. It is over." I will be able to look back and feel satisfied.

But until then, let us return to reality, where the headache of finals awaits. I still have four days left of sleeplessness, studying, stressing, and tears. But! It is only four days. And when the four days are over, I will have done my best, and I will be able to take a three-month respite full of work, art, exercise, accomplishment, freedom, and satisfaction. If I can hold on to the thought of those three months, I'm sure I can last these four days.

Begone, Dread! There is nothing here for you!

<3 o.

p.s. : The title is a line by Emily Dickinson.

To Be Great Like Gatsby

2008-05-14T23:13:00.001-04:00

In English, we have recently been reading The Great Gatsby, and we spent a great deal of time discussing the portion of the book where Fitzgerald tells about Gatsby's real past: That he was James Gatz, desperate for a new life, and he invented for himself the persona of Jay Gatsby and gets a job on board a yacht that travels the world. He completely reinvents himself.

When Mrs. H is done talking about this, she asks us, "If you were going to completely start over, change whatever you wanted to about yourself, what would you do?" She kind of smiled and looked around, like she both expected us to stay quiet and half hoped we wouldn't. "What would you change?" she repeated. "You're going around the world, you've got a different name, no one will ever know anything about you except what you tell them. What would you change about yourself?" We all looked at her half-stunned. Doubtless, everyone had things going through their head, but what high school student is going to confess what they most wish to change about themselves to the class? No one.

After many moments, she moved on. This was probably a week ago, but ever since, I have wanted to write a post about it, but I needed to think through exactly what my answer would be first.

Now, I have to go a little bit off-topic to tell you what I would change.

I have a friend named Hilary. We met during 30 Hour Famine one year, when we were both awkward and anti-social. I was in Junior High and she was a Freshman and she confided to me that she really hoped to change her shyness in the future. Well, Hilary achieved that. Before she graduated, she held the lead in many of her school's musicals, and there was no one that I knew of who didn't like her, and for good reason. She is truly the nicest person I have ever met. She knows how to put others first, and she does it. She is the kind of person who says good morning to people she might not know or talk to, or will ask someone who is upset what is wrong even if she doesn't knowt hem very well, and she isn't regarded as a freak: People talk to her. Hilary sits at lunch, and other students that she's never seen will come sit with her and ask her for help, because she's got that reputation about caring about people and being understanding.

If I could be whatever I wanted, starting completely over, I would as open, understanding, and compassionate as Hilary. Right now, I can be judgmental, because it makes me feel special and set-apart to think that I know better. But, as I've seen with Hilary, there is something even more set apart about reserving all judgments that not only will make you quite beloved, will give you the kind of satisfaction that she has with herself.

So, what would I do away with? Inhibitions, isolation, being judgmental, criticism, and anything that would come between me and people.
What would I like to keep and enhance? A caring attitude, generousity, stubbornness for good causes, people and their well-being as a first priority.

School is over in a week, and then I have one year left of high school. Maybe college will be a chance to start over in such a way? I think that the changes I would make are good ones, and I see no reason that I should have to run away on a yacht to make them.

<3 o.

Happy Mother's Day

2008-05-10T00:32:00.003-04:00

Today, I sat in Chemistry class, ignoring the assignment I should have been doing, and I overheard a conversation between two classmates, Pepper and Kay. Pepper's mother died in a car wreck recently, over spring break, and they were having a conversation about Kay's mom. One comment Kay made was, "My mom needs to be shot in the head." Pepper proceeded to, surprisingly calmly, tell her to enjoy arguing while she could, because she had no idea how much she'd miss fighting with her mom when she can't. Kay continued complaining about her mother, and all I wanted to do was turn around and say, "I think that was a polite way of telling you to consider yourself lucky that you have a mom and shut up."

I love my mom very, very much. We are alike in so many ways, and yet very different.

My mom is so beautiful. She is about 45, but she looks so much younger than any of my friends' moms, and some of them are still in their 30s.

I remember that one time I told her that she was a bad mother. I told her that every time I was mad at her for weeks, and then I saw her cry. I felt so horrible, and I started thinking about how I would feel if I worked as hard as my mother does and did all the nice things my mom does, and made Halloween costumes for all of my children every year and was an expert cinnamon toast maker, and my daughter told me that I was a bad mother.

I will never say another hurtful thing to my mother again.

She has done a phenomenal job of raising her daughters. I have seen girls come into the world warped. Girls are easily spoiled, give away their bodies without much thought, reject men altogether, are unconfident and easily hurt, or use every opportunity to hurt whoever they can. Neither my siblings nor I do that. Better yet, none of us were cheerleaders. (No offense to any cheerleaders or ex-cheerleaders out there, but around here, cheerleading is a bad, bad thing for one's moral capacity.)

My mom will never read this, but:

I love you, Mom! Thank you for being awesome in oh-so-many ways!

<3 o.

Black And White

2008-05-08T22:54:00.003-04:00

I am a very dramatic person in reality. To me, everything is black and white. Not only is it black and white--it is either very, very black or very, very white. That movie was either the most terrrible, awful piece of film I've ever seen and no one should ever go see it, or it was the most wonderful, fantastic camerawork to ever grace our fair planet and you should base your life around its basic plot. If I ever say that something is "okay" or "alright" or "good except for..." or "it wasn't that great, but it was still...", it is only after a great deal of thought.

Similarly, when I look in the mirror, I usually see myself as one of the ugliest creatures, nay, the ugliest creature, in all of my school, if not the entire state, and I only want to crawl back into bed, say I have a migraine, pretend I am vomitting, and sleep all day. Other times, I think I am probably the cutest, coyest, maybe even sexiest girl alive, and there's no way that any man with half a drop of testosterone in his body could deny himself a lingering "glance" at me, aglow in all my stunning beauty!

But today, I looked in the mirror, and for the first time, I saw something different. I saw an ultimately unremarkable thing. A teenage girl, with hair that is maybe a tad bit darker than one would expect, and cheek bones less prominent than they used to be, whose eyes hold no trace of a special anything, and aren't dull or bright. Her body has a shape to it, maybe, but nothing that would draw any attention, admiring or mocking, and her hair could maybe use a cut.

Utterly nondescript and, as I said, unremarkable. And it seems to me that, lately, nearly everything has been unremarkable.

I don't know how to feel about that. I feel rather like I should like to lay on the couch with a pillow and a blanket and never move again.

I doubt, however, that that would be entirely healthy.

You know, black and white surely is not quite as interesting as color, but it is much better than gray.

<3 o.

The Rise and Fall of My Art Career

2008-05-06T17:43:00.001-04:00

Have I ever mentioned that I am an artist? I am an artist.

I could have been an artist.

I rarely, if ever, find a chance to draw anymore. A couple of posts ago, I listed 12 things that you probably didn't know about me, and one of them was that my drawing skill has actually diminished. I can pinpoint this occurence:

Mr. T. Cox.

In Junior High, our art teacher was not very well-liked, because she was supposedly "mean." I would be mean, too, though, if none of my students cared enough to even try to draw something. She was always very nice to me, and though people said it was because I was good at drawing, I maintain it was because I actually listened when she talked. That is the minimum a teacher should expect, I think. On the last day of Junior High, she stopped me in the hallway to tell me that I'd better take Drawing in high school. I told her of course I was, and she told me she was glad, because I was one of the best art students she'd had for several years.

Emmo warned me against the high school art teacher. "He's crazy," she told me. "No one likes him. Well, some people like him, but only the crazy ones."

I should listen to Emmo more often.

As the prophecy foretold, Mr. Cox was a nutcase. Freshman year wasn't that bad, but Freshman always like him. (Which is odd, because he doesn't like Freshman at all. All he does in his other classes is complain about the "stupid Freshman" that are all "sluts".) But come Sophomore year, he can be seen for all he truly is: A madman.

This man, with the aid of the cluttered schedule that befalls every Academic Honors student, has completely squandered my artistic potential. He will assign us an assignment, then we are to come up with an idea and a plan, and present it to him. If he likes it, we can start, if he doesn't, we change it. Here's the thing: He never likes it, and we are hardly the ones who change it. It usually goes more along the lines of: We present an idea, he tells us what to do, and it usually has nothing to do with the original plan. I feel like he use a molding couch cushion to smother my creativity in his back office.

But this year, Junior year, is the year that I lost all tolerance for the man.

I was working on a painting he'd assigned. It was a very difficult painting for me, because much of it was a landscape. I'd decided to do a landscape mostly because they are difficult for me and I wanted to improve. Now, the art department got new tables this year, and they are considerably smaller than the old ones, so I have to push two of them together in order to hold my canvas, paint, water, and towel. The tops of the tables also have kind of a habit of falling apart. The plastic that covers the wooden top doesn't stick right. So, Mr. Cox was having Thurman check the tables to see which tops needed replacing, and we had to separate my tables to check them.
While he was doing this, I went to look for my paintbrushes, because someone had moved them again. So I'm looking for my brushes at the counter where Han is painting and Thurman is checking my table, and out of the blue, Mr. Cox starts screaming at me for not working. And I mean knocked-over-his-chair, red-in-the-face, shaking-hands screaming. I tried to tell him what I was doing, but he would have none of it, so I did what he said and went to go get my paint tray, which was behind me. As I turned around, all I could think was, "I really hope he doesn't hit me."
I went to the back room to get water, and I was still upset, seeing as it'd only been approximately forty seconds, and I started crying. I wasn't going to go back out there crying, because my table(s) were right next do his desk, so I stayed there for a couple of minutes. Mr. Cox eventually came back there and started yelling at me again, while I was still in tears. All he kept saying was that I never work in his class, which is a lie: I had a nearly complete painting to show for the last few weeks, and I'd even asked him a couple of days before if that was enough for the grade for the last six weeks, and he had said yes. I finally asked him what he wanted me to do. He said,"I want you to finish your painting," and I told him that that was all I had been trying to do.
So I went back out to my tables and started painting, and Han asked me if I was okay. "I will be, but don't expect to see me in here on Monday," was my response. I said it quietly, partially so my voice wouldn't crack and partially because I didn't want him to hear. Well, it didn't quite work, and he started yelling/screaming... again, because he thought that I had said that to him. I said, "Mr. Cox, if I had intended that for your ears, I would have said it to you." He told me if I felt like that then I needed to go to the guidance office, and otherwise, I needed to paint. I tried to paint, but my hands were shaking, and I got a big ugly squiggle done the side of my girl's dress, so I decided to ditch the canvas and go see Mrs. Thompson.

Long story short, I ended up staying the class, but I cut Ceramics out of my Senior schedule. This is disappointing to me, because I was really looking forward to Ceramics. Three dimensional art had a growing appeal to me, and I was sad that I was going to miss out on the opportunity to further my abilities in it. But I am emotionally unstable enough without having to spend an hour every day with a psychopath with an inexplicable loathing for me.

As important as art is to me, I think that my emotional health is far more important, and I think that as long as I have to endure his company, the memory of him screaming at me red-faced and my brief fear of being attacked by him will not leave me alone.

I wish I didn't have to trade in artistic advancement for some amount of emotional security, because I've always looked forward to a career in art. There were many flaws with this plan, which I always thought I'd be able to work around, but I've moved on. My number one passion is no longer self-expression anymore, anyways.

I've decided to get a double major in Social Work and Psychology. The one thing that I think bothers me most in the world is the emotional condition of children and teenagers. I would like to be a social caseworker to help get endangered children out of dangerous households, or a therapist for "troubled youth." I'll still minor in Art, more than likely. Who knows, maybe I'll make a breakthrough in "art therapy." :D That would be really cool!

<3 o.

History Is Like... So Over!

2008-05-05T16:37:00.002-04:00

I have the worst History teacher ever. No, I am not joking. Here is how bad he is: This man does not teach us a single thing. I can't think of anything I've learned from him, except more about Jim Jones than I want to know. And that was a video.
After a couple weeks of school, we caught on to the fact that, somehow, everyone was getting 100%s on the worksheets. How odd. So Han decided to not try on one and see what would happen. Who was 'Stonewall Jackson'? "A guy. With a beard. And shoes." What year did the Civil War end? "Purple." Guess what? He got a perfect. Now, this may sound slightly wonderful, because it means you don't have to do your work. But not quite, because he will sometimes randomly grade a paper. In addition, if you miss a day and ask him what work you missed, he'll say, "Nothing," but then he'll give you a 0 on it. That can injure your grade quite a bit in some cases.

Now, I think that's a reasonable reason to hate History. Here's the thing: I don't think I really hate history. I hate learning about it. But I find European history fascinating. I love historical fiction, and even non-fiction, and I think that antique malls are some of the funnest places to go. Last Friday, Han and I actually went to an antique mall, and took pictures of each other trying on old hats, talking on old phones, drawing old swords, posing with old canes, and it was so much fun!

I think one thing that I love about antique malls is that it's not the kind of history that has to do with battles and dates and names, it's a culture. This is how it was in the 1920s. This is what it was like in the 1800s. I find the history of culture and how it changed to be much more fascinating than war dates--maybe because I find it much more significant. History doesn't mean much when it's all about the armies and presidents. I am not of the army and I am not a president. But when you get to how it was for the average people... I am an average person, and I can relate to that much better.

I think I would rather like to study Victorian-era London/England area. I think I'll do that.

<3 o.

Is There A Name For It?

2008-05-04T22:30:00.002-04:00

I am worried for me. I keep having scenarios go through my head, things that never happened and will never happen, but they affect me as if they have or as if they will. Then I will stop and think, "It didn't happen like that, and there was no reason for you to believe that it was like that or that it will be like that." But as soon as the next time I think of it, I think of it... like that.
It scares me.
It's like I can't control my thoughts.
It's like I have memories of things that never happened.
I don't know if I'm more scared of the things that I can't help thinking about or of the fact that I can't stop believing them.

Uh...

<3 o.

This Is Not What I Have Been Thinking About

2008-04-30T22:42:00.007-04:00

As of late, my brain has not been very well organized. In fact, it has been somewhat of a mess. It is as if my head is full of tiny, poorly-trained ballet dancers, and they are all intent on mastering the dance to a different song, so they are all leaping and twirling about to different music and running into each other, and then bickering about who was in whose way and why my slippers are better than yours and that is precisely the reason that you should learn my dance and turn off that silly music that you're hopping about to.

Needless to say, it has not been all that pleasant of an experience for me.

I have had many things I want to write about, which include my stress level, the book I am currently reading, why the world does not need a Grand Theft Auto 4, and my older sister. I am certain that I will discuss all these things in due time. However, I have decided that since I seem incapable of organizing my thoughts on any of these subjects, I will have to pick an entirely different topic.

Ahem. (I just cleared my throat.)

Presenting :

12 Things That You Probably Don't Know About Me Yet

1. Before I eat my m&m's, I arrange them in creative, map-like patterns. I start with the brown, and have red branch off a few directions off of that, then orange, yellow, green, and blue. I eat them from the inside out and always eat blue last.

2. I cannot turn a cartwheel. Okay, I turned one once when I was six. Once.

3. I sometimes sing what I mean to say, and it really isn't on purpose. It gets me some weird looks, particularly from check-out people and teachers.

4. When I was younger, I wanted to be an artist. I drew all the time, and I got really good. It's sad for me to admit that without the time that I use to have to practice, my skills are diminishing. I find myself going through old drawings saying, "Wow, I wish I could draw like that!"

5. Han Solo has been my hero since childhood, and he always will be. Indiana Jones is my second hero, a decision made before I even realized that they were both played by Harrison Ford. I try to ignore the fact that Indy is a player...

6. I think books are undeniably better than movies.

7. When I read books, I always pick favorite male and female characters. The male almost always inevitable turns out to be evil.

8. I have little to no respect for people who follow fads of any kind. I am a great believe in individuality, and that conformity should be avoided if at all possible. (By the way, it is always possible.)

9. The only time I have used a curse word was once in fourth grade, on accident, at recess, and I immediately went wide-eyed and covered my mouth. I still feel bad about it.

10. I want to kill myself every time I see a beautiful woman.

11. I once convinced my little sister that Santa Claus wasn't real. All the Christmas presents came from the Whiffle Bird, who would lay eggs that hatch into presents and leave feathers in stockings to turn into candy. Unfortunately, she had a fight with a friend at school about it and I was found out and forced to apologize.

12. I desperately want to own and wear a cute Lolita outfit! (If you don't know what Lolita is, you can look it up in wikipedia. :] )

<3 o.