Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in frostika's LiveJournal:

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Thursday, November 10th, 2005
3:43 pm	*carefully stepping up to the podium she clears her throat, organizing her notes before smiling softly, looking into the audience* There are so many points I could begin with. I shouldn't have had to worry about saying this correctly. I wanted to say this days ago. I felt outnumbered--that no matter what I said, it would sound dramatic. People can love drama so much that they project it on to everything they see and hear. Hypersensitivity, perhaps. It took a lot of sleep for me to think clearly and sort this out. I always aware of the need to sleep, but I suppose I took the "deny yourself" bit too literally back in the day. When I was preparing to move down here...I was worried. I didn't know if I could support myself. I didn't know if I'd get along with my roommates. I don't hope much, because I think hoping is silly. Don't hope, do. All the same...I figured this was the next natural step. All of my friends were down here. I was saving money and time. I think I was under the assumption that once I got down here then we would be close, because that's what I thought I wanted. I had two hopes. I hoped to really bond with people, and I really hoped I wouldn't have to clean all the time. I'd say I've been free falling for about three months. Everyone I'd known already lived down here, like I said. They'd already experienced moving in with roommates and this and that. They'd already adjusted from one county to another. They were good at this. In retrospect, it's understandable why my stresses were minimized. "Why don't you just..." It was more than that, though. It was realizing "this was it." In a way, I officially had no past. Those closer to me know the family bit. I was just here, with no familial support...knowing my away around but not in grand detail...starting over. I was free falling. This happened, and that happened. People learned about my activities. I tried to open up. For a moment there I was in this mind-numbing, debilitating vortex of despair. I hadn't felt that lost and bad and scared since that day I realized that I'd lost my memory and had to try to figure out what the hell had been going on for the past year and a half. This had only been the second major time where I had to start with nothing and build a ladder up and out. I was plummeting, and no one got it. It's reminiscent of someone silently choking. People look over, you give the universal sign and everything...and they just look, blankly. "You're fine!" Or worse...they laugh. It may not be important to them that the person is choking, but for the person that is it's a pretty big deal! I've picked up a lot from people, especially ex's. I used to think their interests were silly. I cared about them enough though, to learn...because it was important to them. I believe when you love someone, you take the time to get to know them and what's important to them. You don't mock them mercilessly for it. You don't not try to understand. You realize that there is more to their interest than what you see, and you ask. God. No one likes being mocked. All of these friends around me, and no one got it. Choking. Choking. All of these intelligent, analytical friends my age. I can't remember if I mentioned it or not but I rarely cry out for help. It's gotta be something desperate for that to happen. I usually handle things on my own. But I couldn't heimlich myself with a chair to get rid of this. I needed something more. I'm looking at them...looking...but someone (several actually) heimliched me from behind just in time and I got it all out. I started gasping for air...and when I did, everything made sense again. I forgot in my great rush to escape my previous situation that none of you know me. I'm that quirky girl that makes you laugh, often the only girl in the group. You know nothing about me. I also forgot that I don't need a lot of people to know me. I'm not an "open book" kind of person! *feigns a forehead smack* I've always been tough to get to know. I've always been terribly misunderstood. I forgot that I've never really meshed with people my own age. Our worries were hardly ever similar. Things I struggled with they weren't concerned with yet. A lot of their concerns I simply didn't have (though I try my best to understand) or I'd already gotten past it. It's my middle-aged friends that have always been there for me. I took them for granted. I didn't realize. They've always gotten it. It's always made sense. After all the doors I knocked on they answered and bandaged my bloody knuckles. The few that are around my age that get me don't live here. They've been waiting for me at my other journal for quite some time. I'd taken them for granted too. I've spent the past week or so pulling them all aside, letting each one know how much they meant to me and how much I appreciated them--long overdue but fortunately not too late. "What's my song again?" There are those who will say "what?!" or "you have a song?!" Then there are those who will start humming it low...until you catch the tune and begin to sing it yourself. Those are your friends. I hate my aunt but she had me quote her once about the differences between friends and acquaintances and what they'll do. I never forgot it though I couldn't give it to you verbatim to save my life. I was almost convinced that I was off. Why can't anyone get what I'm saying? Why are you laughing at something that means so much to me? Am I not using clear, logical sentences? Have a forgotten a step in the verbal rubric? But no. I was really angry for a while. Pissed and frustrated. Then I was sad. Then I was disappointed. I'm okay with it now. I know half of the things said to me that irritate me wouldn't be said if you knew me. You'd think twice. Understand. But you don't know me, and that's okay. I'm just here to remind you, because I think a lot of folks have forgotten. There's quantity time and there's quality time. Kinda hard to get to know someone inebriated, or on the dance floor, or at a meeting with a different agenda, or at dinner when everyone is cracking up. That's okay. I trust you guys with my life. Some of you saved my life in that grey area between figurative and dire. Some of you have always looked out for me and provided for me when I was without. I really, truly appreciate it. I consider you good friends. But I don't trust you with my personality. I don't need assertiveness mistaken for anger. I don't need my interests to be belittled. I don't need the constant worry of having to say everything just right in your language for the hope that I'm not seen as crazy. I don't any inflection of emotion to be seen inappropriately miscontrued. This is not angry. This is not mad. This is a post. I'm not "going off." I can assure you I'm perfectly calm. Some people can get me easily. With others, I could write or give the most eloquent explanation in the world and it would roll right off of them. Maybe you've met no one like me, and that's fine. *smiles* It's all fine. It's not the first time I've dealt with that (trust me), and I'm sure it won't be the last. Nonetheless, I am no longer writing here. This is my last live journal post. I'll still be around to read and leave notes, though. I'm heading to class. K. Current Mood: relieved (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Wednesday, October 26th, 2005
11:54 am	Frost: 2; Visitor: 0. Sometimes I hate myself. I think even before I was a Christian (though I had enough influences then too), yes, perhaps as ordained once I crowned from my mom...I've been obligated with this sense of responsibility. Do the right thing, Toni. Do the right thing. No matter what. Even if it hurts. No matter what. I've got to maintain a smile for three more hours. On the way home I can at least wear shades. Sometimes I feel so fucking cursed...but it helps no one to think that way. Take your lumps with dignity. It helps that relief came for a break, a good deal of which I spent in the bathroom composing myself (I hate that I get red...isn't that crazy?), going to the park, looking at the fountain...considering laying in it...remembering I couldn't swim...and coming back. I'll be fine. Another hidden mini-chapter in my life that I've discreetly closed. Just another day. Just another day. And I'm mostly disappointed in myself for feeling. Just a slip up. Just a mistake. F K. Current Mood: Numb. Current Music: Separate Lives--Phil Collins (1 Comment |Comment on this)
9:03 am	"You can run," he said, almost complementary like, in that lazy hot drawl of his..."but you can't hide." [Alternative Entry Title: "One Down..."] I can still hear it. I can still hear it. It clings to my ears like it just happened. I've been runnin' all night and day- Gonna do more before I'm through So don't you take a second glance and think I'll stop for you. -For Those Who Take A Second Glance I could start this entry so many ways. Blah. Let's go into memories and other such things. It started the day of Aids Walk (this is a digression by the way). Michael and I were leaving. I don't remember who locked the door but suddenly I smelled something and I was gone. I froze. "Mom?" I thought...but no. The next door neighbor was just cooking roast. After that day, for the next few days, every time I smelled something familiar I'd stop. Now it isn't like I hadn't been living in the apartment for two months without experiencing any scents. Familiar ones even. This was different. I'd be in my room watching TV or somewhere and I would turn, thinking she was there, ready to comment to her on what I was watching. Thoughts of her escalated and I knew. I knew she was coming. Coming as in I was going to receive some kind of contact from her. It never fails. When thoughts of people start to flood me that way, that's what it usually means. It's the same with songs and television episodes...even if they're oldies or off the air or reruns. When PCOS and ampersands collide, it's usually pretty rough. The second and third days are the worst. This past Sunday was the second day. I've noticed that things are getting progressively worse, and I'm not as good as I used to be at catching the window of opportunity to numb myself with something. When I miss it's absolutely dreadful. I know it was bad, because when I was laying out of the bathroom and Michael asked me if there was someone he could call...I almost said "call an ambulance." I was over vomitting. I was over the pain. I just wanted to be knocked out. But I knew what was wrong with me, and I knew it was "normal," and I knew I didn't have insurance. That was fucking ridiculous though. I just wanted to die. Heh. My mind is a little too overprotective though, and in instances of extreme pain, it'll just erase the chalkboard like nothing happened. Danny was trying to tell me about something that happened that day I think, or he was at least referring to it...and all I could say was "I don't know. I was pretty out of it." It's pretty much a blur. I remember passing out on the couch. I remember waking up and thinking "oh shit" because I knew it was too late. I remember crawling across the carpet, and how it felt like it took forever for me to get to the bathroom. I remember having the phone in my hand. I remember pulling Saul's blanket from the closet and laying in the floor, freezing, trying to cover up. Then I remember vomitting, and vomitting, and vomitting...and trying to squeeze my phone so it wouldn't fall in the toilet. I remember calling in. Then yeah. Then I remember talking to Jory. Then I remember lying on my back across the threshold of the bathroom...and Michael coming out. I remember his jeans. I remember saying that there wasn't anyone I wanted him to call. And that's about it. Everything else is like a rapid slide show. I remember Michael getting me things. I remember being on the computer. I remember Danny fixing me tea. I remember Sean drinking a lot. I remember Sean and Saul going to chaparral. Patches patches patches. It makes me think of the severe leg cramps I used to have. I would always think they were a dream until I tried to get out of bed and collapse. "Oh yeah...I must have had a leg cramp. *befuddled*" Oh right. And I remember laying on the living room floor when my aunt called. She doesn't have my number. I knew it was some South Carolinian from the area code...but I answered it anyway (I was out of it, don't quite know what I was thinking). I remember trying to deliriously explain PCOS to her. She was cold and authoritative...no nonsense. She was on a mission. Yes. A mission to get my address. I was going to give the Village address but I couldn't remember it all. So I gave her my address...without the apartment number. She said grandma wanted it. Bullshit. They were going to give it to my mother, because I wasn't taking her calls. I haven't had anymore pressing thoughts about my mother since...so I'm sure that's what I'd sensed. In case you can't tell...I'm a little delirious. I didn't sleep well. It's fall, though. As the seasons progress I sleep less. I can get by on less. I don't really care. Sleeping isn't something I bitch too much about, but I suppose I can be a bitch without it. *smirks* Anyway. Fall and Winter, especially the latter, I practically hate sleeping at night and will avoid it at all costs, choosing only to sleep during the day. It's been that way since '98. I don't want to go into it. My point is I didn't sleep well qualitatively. Who gives a fuck about hours. My feel for you boy, is decaying from me....like the carrion of a murdered prey...and all I want, is to save you honey...or the strength to walk away... Carrion ~ Fiona Apple So he returned, quite unexpectedly, sixteen fucking days later. Apologized. Explained. I really wanted to forgive him....but I couldn't. I couldn't forget. I've got a few abandonment issues you see (which I figured I may as well admit or look like an ass trying to deny it), and I don't forget when someone turns their back on me when I'm down...no matter what kind of thought pattern they were working on. I didn't think I'd have the strength to give the friends line. I don't know how I did it. I think I'm still a little in shock. Three years I'll never get fucking back. I suppose it's all for the best...better this way...but the whole situation has just been fucked up. All of us involved, all of us, never would have thought it would go this way, and I think I've surprised the most people. I know I've fucking surprised me. I can't wait until this goddamned month is over. :+P It's been too crazy. With me, the friends thing never works. Someone always drops off the face of the earth. I'm strangely okay with that, though. *shrugs* I don't know. One down. But still I can't get off my high horse, I can't let go You are the one who makes me feel so real Ooh, what am I supposed to do when I'm so hooked on you And then I realized that you're somebody else's guy... Title Obvious--See Above for Name As a joke to myself, sociologically, I call what I do on the side my third shift. Brownie points to those that know what the second shift is. I know what I do, and I know how others see what I do. I'm picked on, but I think only Saul gets how I feel about it all. I know it could be readily seen as a justification, but I do have a morbid pride of what I do. It's a craft I've been working on for years. I've earned all praise I've received. Anyway, in this...you meet all kinds. Taken is nothing new. You make up rules as you go along. Learn from your mistakes. Yet, inspite of all of this...the carpet can still be yanked right from under you and you can land on your face...stunned. In all this time I've never felt envy. I don't do envy. I'm kind of automatic. I create the illusion of feeling for the most part, or I can isolate it. More little rules. Yet...ugh. I don't know. I know I need to pull it in reverse and speed off, but suddenly I'm a deer or something. I'm not stupid though. I know exactly what's happening. I even know what I need to do about it. The question is am I strong enough to do it. Do I have the will. I've faced a threat against everything I've worked hard to forget...the remnants my brain left me to handle. I am faced with this implication of need that absolutely disgusts me. It's something I thought I'd beaten as I've long since found other ways to be satisfied. It's a disruption to my suspension of disbelief...my happy little denial wonderland...the self-delusions I've force-fed myself until they stuck to my ribs...tangible...f l e s h...and for that this must be swiftly eradicated. Stopped. Despite...heh. *closes her eyes* Gotta go. Might as well. K. Current Mood: Vexed Current Music: Somebody Else's Guy--Jocelyn Brown (Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 25th, 2005
4:11 pm	What, the bloody FUCK. I almost did it this morning. Sometimes the words dare to leap from my mouth in situations like these, or threaten my eyes...pushing at them in plea. I wanted to hug him tightly and whisper in his ear. "I've fucked up and now I'm in trouble. I've fucking fucked up." I like how I always fall into some dramatic booby trap. I'm just sitting around, minding my own business, and then... It's just so fucked up, and I wish I could tell my mom. I wish I had a mom that was decent enough for me to tell these things to. I think a lot about my parents, and what I do. Would I be doing this if I had decent parents? I'm not trying to blame everything on them. Don't get me wrong. However I don't think that parental influences should be ignored...which happens pretty often sometimes...especially those who aren't personally aware. I feel like I am hanging on by a branch, looking down into this whirling black abyss..and I see those eyes...waiting for me...and I'm wondering where the fuck the floor went. I'm wondering how the fuck this happened. I'm wondering where the hell my aid is...as I look upward at the bruised sky with no rescue in sight, and I have horrible upper arm strength anyway. I want my October 4th back. Or the third. Maybe we could have went to the odd number system. All I know is that I knew what I was doing. Everything had it's place. No one tried to usurp. It was like (3rd) calm before the storm, (4th) eye of the storm...no. I don't know. Blah. I can't think straight anymore. It's starting to affect my sleep. I'm in a wind tunnel...or a whirlpool. I can't find the off switch but it's gotta be there. I can't find a way to clog the drain so I can think for a minute. If anything, it's gaining speed. Every day it's gaining speed. I don't know what to do. That's wrong. I'm lying. I usually always know what to do. I know the responsible thing to do. Must I always be so painfully responsible? I figure someone has to take the wheel...someone has to steer...and more often than not it's usually me. And there is the irrepressible guilt. This whole ordeal is wrought with irrepressibility. My mind had buried it when I was nineteen. Cored all of the emotion out of it and simply left the apple, a dehydrated placeholder, in my mind. A lot of that year was swallowed up. It had to be. I probably wouldn't have been able to get on otherwise. I forgot what I had almost been reduced to. I forgot what my constant emotional state had been. I forgot that no one had been able to reach me. Yet. I like to think that I learned from that. *laughs to herself* I remember the girl I used to be then. Sometimes I miss her. I digress. I don't have to be my past anyway, right? Right. I feel...powerless, though, when I really shouldn't. It's an area where I need to have a lot of restraint or at least some boundaries. It's a place where I need to be everything I'm proud of and everything I've come to secretly resent too. I have to be cold. I have to be focused. This is not a "beautiful dilemma." I observe it with panic. A threat to everything I've built since. I don't know if I can pull me through. I don't know who else would see this as a bad thing. No one would truly get this. Not in my circle of friends, I know. But I'm tired now, and I've been rambling in this entry anyway. I'm not getting anywhere with this, much like in my head. I just need a moment...I just need a moment... K. As former agents of God you know we know better...and I haven't used the word 'sin' in a long long time. Current Mood: Terrified. Current Music: Show me--Amerie (Comment on this)
4:09 pm	I Took Danny's Quiz... Your aura shines Orange! What Color Is Your Aura? brought to you by Quizilla Current Mood: confused Current Music: Blue--Eiffel 65 (Comment on this)
Friday, October 21st, 2005
10:31 am	*shrugs* I don't know if 30 minutes is enough time. I'll be off soon. Eleven days and I'm starting to crack. I didn't realize it for a minute. It actually started on the eighth day, and this is nothing about the 30 dayness. I was getting ready for class when the thoughts of what I intended to do hit me. I was in the bathroom looking in the mirror. Getting ready I suppose. "Not now..." I said..."I've gotta go to class." I didn't realize that I hadn't showered for two days (yeah I know gross resolved now shut up) until I realized how dirty the tub was. I always clean it when I'm finished. I don't even like leaving the house with a dirty tub. I didn't realize until Saul told me how long my clothes had been hanging in there. I've hidden it pretty well. At least I like to believe so. Yet I have been withdrawn and coming home very late. I try to flush it out. I try to keep busy, but then it got to where I was listless and didn't want to do anything. I know part of it may be my impending aftersand..but I know most of it isn't. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. My eyes threaten to blur when I think about the ramifications. "Not now," I say. "I've got to work." When? When? I'm smart but I'll admit my EQ is pretty low. I chose to not deal with my feelings by storing them in mental tupperware containers. Internalizing. I don't want to think about it. Things to do. And I found out who my real friends are, and it's so ironic. I learned that some people just can't conceptualize abstractly. I learned that "real" is relative. Something I knew but forgot. My real isn't necessarily your real...but it doesn't mean they don't co-exist. Silenced. I've learned who to talk to about what. I've learned who will get. it. I've had true and false consolation. I'll never forget how she looked out for me. She'll never know how much I needed that. She was there when no one else was. Seeming demons become angels who rescue me, and I am redeemed. I'm knitting a patchwork blanket of support. I hate turning to anyone, but I know who I can truly turn to now. Inner sanctum. Clique-y clique clique. I swallow, look up. I try to picture that cosmo blurb...tricks of the trade. They say your eyes need oxygen. Did they say look up? I don't think so. I think I made that up. It always gets my temples wet anyway. I stare. I stare through it. I smile, and smile, and smile. I am fine. Fake it til you make it. Don't worry. I'm fine. Where's my bed. How much Smirnoff do I have in the fridge? Where's my copy of fall? Should I watch American Psycho? Not long. Soon I can be home. Soon I'll be in my world room, far away from everyone else. I need to think. I need to have a plan. Always have a plan, I say. Am I done? Yes? Almost... But there was this article that got to me today. I'm very opinionated by mental illness...and stories like these, though tragic...only perpetuate the stereotype of the mentally ill as "other," and deviant other at that...especially those of the "schizo" persuasion. It is very common period for schizophrenics to stop their medication when they think it's remedied the problem...but that's very common period. And though schizophrenia can be very debilitating every story isn't tragic. Not all psychotics kill, and not all psychotics need medication to restrain them from doing so. It's very biased and annoying. More often than not these are exceptions to the rule. I'm tired now. Enough. K. Current Mood: melancholy Current Music: Noise and Kisses--The Used (Comment on this)
Thursday, October 20th, 2005
3:25 pm	I know the Danger. I remember it now. How could I have forgotten (but then it makes so much sense)? Oh bloody fuck. No wonder I was so crazy this morning. Coasting the memory wave... K. P.S: You know nobody will ever understand it. I know nobody will ever understand it. Here we go it alone... Current Mood: Stunned. Current Music: Giving In--Adema (Comment on this)
Wednesday, October 19th, 2005
8:57 am	Dude, where's my entry? I honestly don't know. I kept dozing off while writing it...and I lost it. I guess I deleted it in my sleep...pleh. It was mainly cranky, sleep-deprived bitching and rambling anyway. Hell, I can't even remember half of what I wrote. K. Current Mood: cranky Current Music: Sweetest Goodbye--Maroon 5 (Comment on this)
Monday, October 17th, 2005
10:06 am	What-A-Weekend. (Shift Size) Will I ever catch up on sleep? Who knows!! Phew!! Friday was Saul's dinner party. 1) Spare me if you weren't there...it wasn't my affair. 2) Spare Saul if you weren't there, because it isn't like we can get a fucking time machine and insert you. Just trying to nip any bitching in the bud. Heh. It's funny, because I thought I was just going to be a guest...and it didn't end out that way. I'm not (too) bitter about it (:+P), because I have this way of making the people that I love's hopes and dreams my own. I dove right in and helped. I suppose it went off pretty successfully. It's funny, but I only remember the day in bits and pieces. I was exhausted beyond words. From what I hear, though, everyone had a good time. The meal went swimmingly. I've promised myself that THIS Friday will be mine. On Fridays I get off work at eleven, right. The first friday got the shift wrong. The second friday I was asked to stay til 3 but I stayed until 1. The third friday I spent with Saul. This Friday I'm stepping behind my shades and into thin air. :+P Afterwards we went to Chaparral (I don't know how they spell it). It was really fun. I liked it more than Jungle. Next time Saul suggests going I may tag along. It was cool except for some drunkards in our entourage that really needed to lay down somewhere. Sidenote: I hate some drunk people. The ones that get belligerent (god I can't remember how to spell today...so sleepy...) or touchy or just plain stupid. My daddy liked to drink. He was a mean shove-y drunk. See the association? Not too hard. Okay. So yeah. That really irked the fuck out of me. Then apparently drunk person A got pissy and a few of us for leaving early and not saying goodbye. Well I was pissy right back for being nearly impregnated, so I'm really not tring to hear it. I just figured it was an angry drunk gripe. We'll see. Not too worried about it. Saturday I woke up late and remembered I was supposed to go to see Elizabethtown with Danny and Courtenay, at the crack of day no less! He knows interracial couples can't be seen in broad daylight. He's crazy. :+P I added more money to my laundry card and quickly skirted off to Phipps. Magellan is fired because he couldn't navigate me out of Saks, where I almost asphixiated from bourgeoisie poisioning.*shakes her head* I didn't want to see Elizabethtown initially. After Danny's foiled efforts to get me to see Just Like Heaven he realized the direct approach wasn't getting him anywhere. So, he cleverly paid for airtime to play clips and trailers for the movie during our favorite shows. Very clever. Very clever indeed. Brainwashed, I began looking forward to it too. I must say it was quite smashing. I need to get the soundtrack, but I probably won't now. I'm not the greatest at buying things just because, especially if they're just for me. For the most part, I'm a practical buyer. *shrugs* It made my eyes a little moist. Movies about decent families, decent parents, and most importantly decent fathers...coupled with mourning the loss of a loved one always get to me. --- My sister and I used to talk about how we would react if our parents died. With my mom, to an extent I thought "yes!" because at least then I could be free and breathe and maybe get some insurance money. However, I didn't/don't want to take care of my sister so that would be a con. She never let us know her. She always kept us at an arm's length, and always found some passive aggressive way to let us know that we were merely ungrateful children who had ruined her life by falling out of her crotch. She made me the husband I didn't want to be, and groomed me to be the wife that I never intend to be. She made me want to die, literally. She drove me insane, literally. Whenever I think about her dying...I always picture myself looking down at her from her deathbed/casket thinking "why didn't you love me?" I can imagine a sense of loss that would never be filled because I never knew...but it isn't like I can sort it now while she's alive because she resides in a constant state of denial and would tell me I didn't know what I was talking about. We've also both decided that our father's death would make us completely fall to pieces. My father always loved my sister more, and although she was too young to remember how abusive he was...and was brainwashed by him very early...she feels the closest bonds to him. There is a drawer in my mind dedicated to the daddy that was mine before my sister was born, before that first car accident (that was actually a suicide attempt...I learned through my own investigating through my parents personal files) when everything became permanently different. Despite my dad being this abusive, somewhat unstable, ex-convict bigamist who scareds me to death and populated the countryside with half-children (and technically we are too...we are illegitimate though my mother hates to hear me say so...considering my father was already married to two (?) women before he married my mom and they conceived us...I know at least one for sure...he may have been married again after her) while falling in and out of our lives...there were good bits. I can't not adore my father. Hitting is different. Hitting is not touching you funny. Hitting you can get past, and at least he was able to admit he was flawed. At least the was able to say he was a bad man. I idolized my father. I don't expect anyone to understand. I wanted to be just like him. I used to wear all his clothes. I loved all his colognes. I attrbute all my good qualities to him. He got me into philosophy. He got me into shotglass collecting. He taught me how to be clever. How to fix and build things. I inherited his charisma and his sharp eyes. I have his personality in a lot of ways and my mother always hated that. The (maternal) fam says I got that and the kid (my sister) got his looks. I can imagine looking down at his casket (just figured they'd find him dead somewhere...people were always trying to kill him...like the common law wife who shot him in the face...he survived and hardly looks fucked up...I swear he has an almost supernatural quality...can he really die?) bitterly, wondering why it couldn't have been me that was the favorite and chalking it up to "oh well." --- Heh...so yeah. Twas a good movie. Made me think a lot about things. Then we headed to Cobb County (I know this awesome girl who used to live there...but she moved to Buckhead...yall should meet her I bet you'd like her) and stopped at a seasonal Halloween store. It was the best store I had ever seen, lol. Everything was so neat and spaced and there was a great selection (you can take the girl out of retail...). I bought some a few things and we headed out. After that we went to Red Lobster (yay! finally!) and happily/hungrily gorged ourselves. We looked at Courtnay's new apartment where I was attacked by her dog and screamed bloody murder. I knew our marriage was on the rocks when Danny shushed me, worried about neighbors and police instead of seeing about me (SCARED! OF DOGS! HAVE WE NOT MET!!). It doesn't matter that the dog was the size of my thumb. It jumped at/on me! Hmph. *le sniffle* I finally got home and forced myself to go to bed for Aids Walk. It worked a little too well because I kinda overslept, as did Michael, and we were running late. Half of the parade was spent trying to catch up with the group until I finally just broke into a run and caught up. Michael said he was impressed. I can run! Blah. Lol. To quote Danny, "you don't know me!" I did used to be fit...some things are imbedded. *shrugs* Greg, Jory, Hartwell, and I stopped to look at the AIDS quilt while the others headed to Mellow Mushroom. It's always so overwhelming to see all of that. It was worth the stop. Mellow Mushroom wasn't going anywhere. Lol. We got there and chose to sat outside merely because the weather was gorgeous and it incited some drama. *yawn* So much for the afterglow. Then I had to rush home and get ready for work. I don't know how I stayed awake through my shift. I read everything on the jounter. The signal. The Saturday AJC. Nearly all of one of my Social Psych chapters...just hmph. Then my relief was late. Got home to do a few maintenance things...only to get in an argument later. I'm so tired of dealing with this guy. "I kinda have this...strange habit...of driving guys crazy." (Extreme paraphrase) It's funny, because he's acted...become...exactly what I warned him would happen. He thought I was being presumptuous, conceited about it. In four years of doing this you learn a few things. It something I've obviously seen happen more than a few times and it isn't something I'm proud of. It makes me think of those skits of people that are fired but still keep trying to come back to work. ATTENTION ALL MARRIED MEN. PLEASE GO HOME TO YOUR WIVES. PLEASE, GO HOME, TO YOUR WIVES. THAT IS ALL. THANK YOU. WE NOW RETURN YOU TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAM. "Don't you think we're worth salvaging?" No, not really (and what is this "we" you're on about). You crossed the line and you're a jackass to boot. A sea of charm couldn't wash that away.I'm all *yawn* because he doesn't think I'm done, even though I said so. I'm not as invested in this as you are. This is something I do to pass time. This is an alternative to playing the Sims. I've likened this most to Jenga. It's only acting... "Don't make it a big deal, don't be so...sensitive...we're not playing a game anymore...you don't have to be so defensive..." ~ Fiona Apple So yeah. I try to handle these things with at least a modicum of class but I see I'm just going to have to get crunk and ugly with him to get my point across. In other news, pretty sure I'm going to let Dale go. It's like finding out your insurance policy is actually made out of rice paper. What the fuck! I don't forget when people have turned their backs on me when I needed them most. I can hold a grudge like a motherfucker. He's virtually replaced. I've just gotta test a few things out. I'll admit he's essentially irreplaceable, but he's hardly priceless, got me? Yeah. *smirks* Heh. Anyway...I'm done writing now. I'll shoot anyone that applauds. :+P Remind me later to tell you about my new doctor. She's mighty interesting....and cheap. *snickers* K. P.S: Shift size...by the time you finish reading this your work shift will be over, or maybe even a class or two. Current Mood: devious Current Music: Sleep to Dream--Fiona Apple (Comment on this)
9:21 am	Oh Shit! You Asked for It Now...(An Appetizer) An entry of epic proportions is coming your way!! Heh. Maybe not. I have so much to write about but I don't know if I have the energy to do so. I've decided to add a few songs here to keep me in check/on track. I figure we'll start with that as I collect my thoughts. *winks* K. Won’t do no good to hold no seance What’s gone is gone and you can’t bring it back around Won’t do no good to hold no searchlight You can’t illuminate what time has anchored down Oh, honey (I’ve gone a-) Oh, honey (I’ve gone a-) Oh, honey (I’ve gone away) Won’t do no good to sing no love song No sound could simulate the presence of a man Won’t do no good asking no questions Your divination should acquaint you with the plan Oh, honey (I’ve gone a-) Oh, honey (I’ve gone a-) Oh, honey (I’ve gone away) My feel for you, boy, is decaying in front of me Like the carrion of murdered prey And all I want is to save you, honey Or the strength to walk away Won’t do no good to go no distance The space between us is as boundless as the dark Won’t do no good to throw no fist, babe You can’t intimidate me back into your arms Oh, honey (I’ve gone a-) Oh, honey (I’ve gone a-) Oh, honey (I’ve gone away) My feel for you, boy, is decaying in front of me Like the carrion of a murdered prey And all I want is to save you, honey Or the strength to walk away My feel for you, boy, is decaying in front of me Like the carrion of a murdered prey And all I want is to save you, honey Or the strength to walk away.... Carrion ~ Fiona Apple Can you see me Floating above your head As you lay in bed Thinking about everything That you did not do Cause saying I love you Has nothing to do with meaning it And I don't trust you Cause every time you're here Your intentions are unclear I spend every hour waiting for a phone call That I know will never come I used to think you were the one Now I'm sick of thinking anything at all You ain't ever coming back to me That's not how things were supposed to be You take my hand just to give it back No other lover has ever done that Do you remember The way we used to melt Do you remember how it felt When I touched you Oh cause I remember very well And how long has it been Since someone you let in Has given what I gave to you And at night when you sleep Do you dream I would be there Just for a minute or two do you? You ain't ever coming back to me That's not how things were supposed to be You take my hand just to give it back No other lover has ever done that Heartache heartache I just have so much A simple love with a complex touch There is nothing you can say or do I called to let you know I'm through with you. Through With You ~ Maroon 5 When you refuse me You confuse me What makes you think I'll let you in again Think again my friend Go on misuse me and abuse me I'll come out stronger in the end And does it make you sad To find yourself alone And does it make you mad To find that I have grown I'll bet it hurts so bad To see the strength that I have shown When you answer the door pick up the phone You wont find me cause I'm not coming home You do not know how much this hurts me To say these things that I don't want to say But have to say them anyway I would do anything to end your suffering But you would rather walk away And does it make you sad To find yourself alone And does it make you mad To see that I have grown And does it make you sad To find yourself alone And does it make you mad To see that I have grown I'll bet it hurts so bad To see the strength that I have shown When you answer the door pick up the phone You won't find me cause I'm not coming home When you answer the door pick up the phone You won't find me cause I'm not coming home When you answer the door pick up the phone You won't find me cause I'm not coming home. Not Coming Home ~ Maroon 5 Current Mood: mischievous Current Music: DUH!! (Comment on this)
Friday, October 14th, 2005
8:13 am	Am I Coherent Enough to Write an Entry? God. I'm so tired. Fa la. And, I'm making so many typos that it's pissing me off. I didn't get to get my coffee. Why? Oh, maybe because even though I arrived at 6:15, I didn't get my assignment until 6:52!!!!!!!!! What the. I tried to stand in line at Mocha Delites, but I would have been later than I already was (which was a whopping minute...grr!). I'm hungry too. Renh. Then due to lack of foresight I didn't ask for Danny's password earlier. I was going by what Saul told me. Maybe I misunderstood him. I thought about asking him to text it to me earlier (in the week), but I forgot. I had to text him (and call, oops) this morning. I was also going to play The Sims, but Danny didn't love me enough to keep Sims 2 on the computer. Maybe he was too traumatized. He almost killed/mentally broke/ and incinerated his Sims in less than 5 minutes. It was crazy but I laughed so hard that day. *yawns biggly* At least I get off at 11...but again the day isn't mine. I'm helping Saul run errands. I really just wanna sleep...but I need to clean the apartment. We're not gonna have much time to get things done. I think I'm gonna eat down here before we head to the house. Hungreh! He's meeting me around 11:15-11:30ish. Two girls and a priest walk into a bedroom... Maybe. I don't know. I don't know if she's straight or not. I'm willing to share. I wonder if she is. "Can I call you?" Enh...I'm considering it. We interupt our daily depravity for this special report! Umm. There's a fucking duststorm outside. It wasn't that windy when I got here. I thought it was rain at first? But no. It's dirt. I don't know my cardinals so I'll say it's blowing left to right. I'm facing Starbucks. It's freaky ooking. Where is it all coming from?! Maybe it's the fog. Ahh! DRJELAJRLEJF!! *snorts and snickers* We now return you to your regularly scheduled novella. For some reason everyone finds it funny when I say that I'm out of stock/need to go shopping. I guess it's the way I casually refer to people as if they're objects sometimes, like milk or bread. Would you not agree that some people are expendable or replaceable? I always keep backups as insurance in case those in front do something stupid. Like this last dude. Once I consciously began, I replaced him in two days. Had another in my pocket. Thought, "I could train him." And I did. Dale may be irreplacable, as I'm so often yet frustratingly told I am...but it isn't like I couldn't phase him out. I'm still debating. We'll see in the upcoming weeks. Besides he's costing me money. I just need another sign and I'll know exactly what to do. I'm just so damned impatient and a notorious conclusion jumper. And that's (one of the many reasons) why they call me Frost... which I actually prefer to my own name... but only a few know about it and how/why it came about. I'm really not going to be able to restock until I have my own connection, though. Slee-payeeeeeuh! I kept Michael up Wednesday morning, and I felt so bad about it I left all my paper material in his room so I couldn't finish it. I ended up having to skip my 1 o' Clock to get it done. I dicked around and dicked around because I thought the paper was stupid and unworthy of my time. I love the class though (Social Psych). We were faced with a hypothetical question about what we'd do if we could get away with it, no repercussions, etc. Apparently we were more anti-social than those in the study. It was anonymous ballot. I wanted to put down my first response but I watered it down. Unfortunately I made it so vague that it got discounted. Plus, someone else answered something along that line and everyone did the "yikes" answers. "O-kay...!" Then tried to laugh it off. Right. Oh, and there were all of those bullshit rob a bank type things. Boo. I wish I had went with my gut and just said "murder." It's true...why pretend? I'd do it once, to see if I could...practice...then just start knocking people off. Then I would look for my work on the news. *shrugs* This is why I can't have superpowers. I'd abuse them. "You what?! *zizzap!*" Anyway, I learned a bit ago that people can't always take frankness. It doesn't help that I have a tactose intolerance. I also learned the truth doesn't set you free. The truth gets you locked up for days, but you get some smashing scrambled eggs while they try to figure you out. Num. I was certain it was an underground Soylent Green lair. All the food was good, or maybe it was bad and the drugs made it good. But I was tucking them inside my cheek for a few days...so I don't know. Shwee! Yeah. Don't worry...we're nearing the home stretch. Our meeting yesterday was a wash because the initial plans were yanked from under up like a bad carpet trip. We ended up doing coming out stories. Feh. I went to get a soda (I really was thirsty though). I told mine. Whatever. What was interesting was this one girl's, though. I didn't think anyone else had experienced MDI. Hartwell sounded incredulous upon hearing...but that's customary. I wanted to say more to her about it. Man. It was like my mom, and my aunts, and my great aunt, and that one cousin (and that roommate when I was 18...)...it's hard to verify with other people for the sensitivity of it. Also, as was noted in the precious literature there is on the topic, it can be seen as pretty ambiguous. Mothers are seen as more affectionate and you could transfer that to female relatives as far as how they're seen anyway. "Oh yeah? Did they take pictures of you? No...I mean after the lotion down. You know..they spell out your name on your back in lotion and call the others in before taking the shot? No? Oh, me neither." "Did your mom do the cop frisk game with you in the tub too? Ah. Just kidding." "Whew! I thought I was the only one whose aunts would call them into their bathroom after they showered just to see them naked. Not you? Ack." "You didn't have to stop hugging your aunt because she would always grab your ass? Oh, okay." And so on. And so forth. Feh. There are a million other ways that women have screwed me over, but I'm trying to stay on task with the sexual/pseduosexualness. I believe I liked girls first before anyone touched me. I think all of that just made me very guarded and untrusting with women. *smirks* I believe they've hindered me from being a lesbian. It's hard to be attracted to women and hate them at the same time.I lost my train of thought. I think I was done though. *insert coffee here* An hour and 5 minutes left...pleh K. P.S: If Saul and I weren't going out...I think I'd want IHOP. I need eggs. *le pout* Current Mood: cranky Current Music: Maroon 5--Not Coming Home (Comment on this)
Wednesday, October 12th, 2005
10:31 am	25 days. Twenty five days and I'm starting to sweat. I think my count must be wrong. It has to be. *checked* Nope. FUCK. What was I thinking! This is stupid. Maybe it's just a six day itch. *smirks* I just know I'm starting to squirm. I'm very...frustrated. But enough of that. Ahem. *coughs* Not thinking about Dale that much lately. Not since I believe I've half figured out what's going on. I'm not as crazy as I was last night. Caught a headache from it. Totally psychosomatic as the tylenol didn't help. Once I started writing and writing and writing I felt better. At any rate. The emotional aspect of it is almost gone. Now it's just a matter of what to do next. My other situation is almost resolved. I'd say I'm halfway there. Got a bit of a disciplinarily (I don't think that's real) toned request today when I showed up at work...about calling at 11. They can really fucking bite me. For the last time. I didn't call, because no one ever told me I had to. EVEN IF THEY HAD, I wouldn't have, because LYNDA fucking said she'd be back at the College of Education at 11!! How is she totally absconded from this? I'm over people cleaning up their stories to make themselves look good. I know. What you said. Whether you do, OR NOT. GRR!! I don't like being bitched at unless I deserve it. They can lay down somewhere. Since it's almost 11 I'm almost awake. Still haven't written that paper. I have time though. Not too worried. I know anything I'd produce right now would be shit anyway from being so tired. Finally "moved out" of Danny's apartment. I loved spending time with Danny...we really had a ball (I swear we spend 75-80% of the time laughing). However, I don't intend on staying that long again. His roomies make me uncomfortable. It really isn't anything they've said (to me directly). But I have excellent hearing and I know they were ready for me to go. On my behalf...I'm spoiled. It was never a problem when Michael Sean and Bub used to live there. On their behalf it must have been odd for someone to spend the night...for several days. Lmao. Anyway...I just don't feel comfortable there. If I do happen to sleep over it's gonna have to be on Danny's floor or something. The silence was deafening. Every time I try to figure out the bank thing by myself, looking at my online statements...it's totally bogus. The running balance jumps forward and springs back...ebbs and flows..with no connection to the debits and credits! I think they're making it up as they go along. *sigh* I've got a least three more weeks to wait too, just to make sure things are safe. Then I'll probably do something responsible (ugh), like pay back my mother or put it aside for rent...or as I joked with Danny...wire it to him as payback. (I run such crazy big tabs with him!) Oops...look at this unfinished entry! Got distracted. Just called the station...supposedly I can stay here until three. Someone bring me food! Hungry! Payday so close but so far away...hmph. Didn't even realize til Rory said that AIDS WALK IS THIS SUNDAY! AHHH!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! I hope I don't die. Last year was a piece of cake. Of course I was a hundred times more fit last year. *sigh* I need to sign up. Can't remember where. I have to work at 7pm that day...til 11..only to get back up and return at 7am...to 3pm. Can we say dead? Yeah. Toni's gonna be a zombie for the rest of the week. Hmph. She just doesn't know how to go to bed, because she's three and always worried she's going to miss something exciting/fun if she sleeps. Double hmph. *shakes head* Anyway, I'm rambling now. Good thing I'm not tempted by the bank card! Blah. I think I'd lick penis for coffee right about now. Cunnilingus for cappucino? Maybe. Gonna go. Broogalah. =/ Current Mood: working Current Music: Through With You--Maroon 5 (Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 11th, 2005
4:18 pm	"Scrmr," or "This is a Man's House," or "Take My Money PLEASE!!!" *cartwheels in* (Yeah right) First and foremost. *claps* Oprah. OH. My GOD. I remember why I don't watch her now. Sure, yeah...she looks great, wonderful. She's done some super spiff humanitarian things. People worship her. Whatever. All the same? She just rubs me the wrong way. I don't know how to explain it. I decided to watch her show today for the hell of it, and because nothing else was on. :+P Apparently there's this child molester watch going on...her version of America's Most Wanted. She's giving away $100,000 for each molester's capture. Okay. Good go. This one child molester was on the run. A woman watching Oprah recognized him, set the ball rolling, he was caught. Not my point. The aftermath is what gets me. Kind of like Montel Williams (everything is always your fault on that show). I'm disgusted at the blatant use of hindsight. "I knew something was wrong with him.." said the neighbors, and the family who took him in...so on and so forth. NO YOU DIDN'T. Oprah had her all "he's just like you and me...they seem so nice...but watch out!" Of course the molester they caught, though "looked like one." I remember in our Sexual and Intimate Violence class we watched a video on molesters and they all looked "trademarked." Hmm. I'm so livid, lol...or fired up anyway. I couldn't even watch the whole thing if you mark the time...I have the TV on pause. Edward and I have somewhat "radical" ideas on child molesters and the like. Our initial reaction isn't disgust. We're "why" people. "Why, do you like children. What happened in your upbringing to make you feel this is okay...and if you don't...why can't you control the compulsion?" Things like that. I have a problem, with just sweeping up any child molester and throwing them in jail. Convicted child molesters that are released. Sure there is a chance of recidivism. There's a chance of recidivism with theives and murders. My issue is...what if they really are clean now. What if they've worked it all out and they're just trying to start over. Is it really our right to take that second chance from them if they aren't doing anything? I don't believe people wake up one day and say "you know what? I think I want to be a child molester today." Should we stigmatize people for the rest of their lives because of an issue that may not have psychologically been their own fault? No. For me, it's a matter of malignancy or remission. (God I'm gonna shoot roommate c) My other problem. Child molesters aren't all men. I wish we'd get over that. Trust, women touch children. I could tell you a few stories. I just feel, even as a victim, that there is more than one way to take things. You can either be angry about it and let it consume you. You can be ignorant, as a bystander, and feel that you can draw one out of a lineup. You can sit on your high horse and spend the whole day judging...or you can step back...as ugly as it is...before taking a running dive into their minds to try to understand. Just because you're trying to understand doesn't mean you're justifying it...but I promise you it gives a better perspective. I don't know. I know a handful of potentials and even actuals. I made an effort to know. I make an effort to submerge myself in just about anything that frightens or disgusts me so I can understand it and gain knowledge from it. "He was so nice and sweet!" the shocked guests of Oprah said. Yeah. They usually are. They just have a problem that we can only hope can be one day remedied. We're all dodecahedronic, at least. We can't say that a benevolent nature was used for grabbing children. It's just a coincidence. Cruel people molest children too. All I'm saying is that there is a danger, the potential for a false sense of security, when you begin to label theives, murderers, bombers, molesters, and so on as "other." We're all bleeding red. We need to work from the inside out. And...I'm spent. On that topic. *smirks* A girl came by to visit roommate C. She was nice and quiet. A freshman. Something else I notice...this is a lot like my house. Rather, everyone departed to their own respective rooms and stayed there with the door shut, hardly interacting with the other. Very rarely was company held in the living room (which was more than spacious enough). They were usually shut up with you in your room. I mainly say they because I rarely had my own visitors. If I did, they were picking me up so we could leave. Also...I don't have company in my room when it's dirty...and flip out when people go in there when it's like that. :+P They were having a somewhat lighthearted argument about the toilet seat. God..I wish I could remember what I said. I was sitting out here, in the living room. He was bitching about the toilet seat being down, and saying she needed to put it back up...because why? *points up* Oh yes. This is a man's house. You know yours truly had something to say about that. I just can't recall. Something about "that's like saying blah blah blahdy blah." Of course he couldn't respond, because he was being ridiculous. Freh. So I'm a notorious check balancer. I really am. I'm all about reconciling. I get overdrawn, yeah...but I'm never surprised by it. It's usually a game of chance because my bank is so slow. "Oh I'll have more money in there by then..." Lol, I'm evil sometimes. After this most recent reconcilement I noticed that my account was about $270 over. What? I noticed this last week. Adorably paranoid I've left my bank card out of my wallet to avoid temptation. Besides, they can yank that shit right out of there at any time!! Hmph. It says it in just about any bank account in all that paper shit they give you when you open it. "Oh by the way...if we fuck up you're giving us the right to fix it. Thanks!" I couldn't take the guilt anymore so I called them, informing them that I should really have only around $2.40 in my account. I told them I had checked everything, and hadn't even made any purchases in the last week so there really wasn't any way the money could be mine...nor could there be anything outstanding. It was pretty much summed up as me missing something. All the questions they'd asked me I'D ALREADY CHECKED...WHAT THE. As broke as my ass is, how could I fucking forget two hundred and seventy goddamn dollars. That would mean I've been living in abject poverty for absolutely no reason! Grah! So yes. The phone teller suggested that I may have had some things outstanding...like I check I didn't know about...so on...so forth. No. Wanna know how ridiculous it is? Before I got paid this last time. Okay. Remember when I told you I'd set aside that money for school, knowing they'd want it back eventually, but that I had spent it? Well in my checkbook, everything I used against the money I took as a negative loss. When I got paid, it went against that. So I only had about $133. Then I had to pay some people back, fix the school fiasco, get more minutes for my phone and so on...which left the $2.40. Everything has cleared. I've had this account for 3-4 years and I'm on check 250. I rarely write checks. I paid for rent last month with a money order! I can go to my file cabinet and look up my past statements...but I'm telling ye...there's a mistake on their part. Something even looked dodgy online. A big jump that didn't make sense in the math. *sigh* Of course they aren't going to admit they're wrong about anything...but considering they're a bank I figured they would have no problem stealing taking my money. Figures... I like Danny's idea. He suggested I let it sit for a month. Sounds good. I'm just going to pretend like it's not even there, despite my desperation. this would be a new "low" for them though. I've had it where things just never cleared...so I virtually got my purchases for free. Washington Mutual is somewhat slow and ineffective...but I love their banks. I mean come on. They have bright colors and toys! I haven't seen any bank like them. It's just that the main thing they're supposed to be doing...you know...money management...isn't being done. Flah. K. Current Mood: amused Current Music: Stay Together for the Kids--Blink 182 (Comment on this)
10:07 am	Shut yo face...this one's short. Joey just reminded me today is Nat'l Coming Out Day. I wanted to see the closet thingy! But alas, I'm still feeling ill, so I'm not going to class today. I've already emailed my professors. I'm going to work on my notes, maybe go home early...so on and so forth. I like sparring with roommate C, because he's usually oblivious to it. Boys can be so dumb. Hmph. Help me. I'm watching QVC. I usually make fun of people who watch QVC...but they have toys! Besides. I left my card at home, so I can't buy anything. :+P Tired now. Bleh. K. Current Mood: tired Current Music: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas--??? (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, October 10th, 2005
12:19 pm	2 for 2. "You're going to throw up, aren't you." "No I'm not." "Yes you are." "No I'm not!" "Yes you are." "No I *runs*" Internal dialogues are fun. Yes. So I threw up again, at work, in the Education building...in the hugest trashcan on earth. Who barfs behind a corner. *points* I didn't want anyone to see me! And I didn't want to be too far away from Danny's computer, lest it be stolen. So I spewed and spewed forever...hoping I wasn't getting my shirt as I was bent over. Finally I gained composure. Oh look. A trashcan full of vomit. "Now what?" I thought. I tied it up...I didn't want other people to have to see that? There were so many people in the lobby I had to hide it under the desk for a while (EWWWWWWWWWWWWW). Then I was able to dispose of it in another trashcan. Freh. And just when I thought it was safe...I had to run to the bathroom. *raises an eyebrow* Yeah. So I had to pack up Danny's comp, leave a few things to prove I was there...then run upstairs to the 2nd floor because they don't believe in having bathrooms on the first floor of the College of Education. Then I was in there forever. What, the hell!! So now I'm all shivery, headachy and weak. I really wanna lay down somewhere. Two hours, 24 minutes yet to go. This couldn't have been a bad mix. I've had crazier shit. Maybe I ate something old, or bad. This feels like a stomach virus...but it can't be. Not just like that. I usually cramp a lot moreo when I'm suffering from food poisoning...so yeah. I just don't know. Tired now. Gonna go. K. Current Mood: drained Current Music: Wonder What's Next--Chevelle (1 Comment |Comment on this)
8:27 am	For the love of GOD someone else write. I was late to work this morning due to bipolar vomiting (*waits to see who catches that*). I dont think it was quite the matter of eating too much. I rarely vomit. I'm usually not lucky enough, suffering from nausea instead. It was mainly a matter of mixing things that shouldn't have been mixed. And, I ate three meals yesterday! That's crazy. I usually eat one and snack through the day...or two. I thought it was heartburn when I woke up. I didn't sleep well. Danny's roommates on the right side of the apartment never sleep I swear...or they're scared of the dark. I don't know. They never turn the lights off! It's a lot like Bub said. Things just aren't as cozy now. Bub, Danny, Sean, and Michael fit together essentially like a patchwork quilt. I don't know what this mess is now. It isn't even that the roommates are mean or anything. They're just disjointed. A and B stick together, C floats about, and then there's Danny. C makes me think of someone who doesn't know how to think before they speak...or he's trying to hard. I'm not sure which. I'd been putting it off for ages but I finally met him. He amuses me like most men unworthy of my time do. I laugh at him instead of with. I wonder how old he is. He's a very joke-y guy, and I can see how what he says could be taken offensively or as ignorance. I don't believe he means any harm by it. He's simply a silly individual, and of course my quips blew right past him. Joey, Bub, Danny and I watched The Director's Cut of The Exorcist on Saturday. Bub had seen it ages ago. I don't know if Joey had. Danny had seen it when he was eight; I believe I was 14 or 15. We laughed through the whole thing (again for Bub and I). It was crazy. I try to put myself back in 1973...but I'm just not seeing how it frightened people so bad. I bet in about 22 years or so people will be saying that about us and The Exorcism of Emily Rose. It's really the same thing, except the priest goes to trial. I saw so many parallels. I really just dicked around on Sunday until it was time to work. I slept for three years and got nothing accomplished. I felt awful. Then I went to work AND COULDN'T GET ONLINE so I STILL couldn't work!! That's when I realized I was in hell. I argued with the Chinese Food man again. He pisses me off to no end. He tried to be nice to me this week and I just glared at him. "Don't talk to me, ASS," I thought to myself. I have a paper due Thursday that I haven't started yet. Feh. It shouldn't take anything to write it, though. Four pages. Psht. Connecting themes to media or literature. I already know the movie. I own the movie. I can do that. It's just a matter of opening the fucking book and finding the relevant vocabulary/text. I'm such a procrastinator sometimes. I'll work on it tomorrow during my break, and on Wednesday during work. I'm caught up on my reading save for 10 pages or so. I woke up this morning with what I thought was heartburn. Danny and I watched Prison Break last night and it was so good. It was definitely worth the wait, but we were heartbroken to discover it's on hiatus until the 24th!!! Torture! Despair! Tonight we'll be catching up on Supernatural episodes. We were going to possibly try Burger Joe's (Danny's never had it), but with the way I'm feeling right now... My stomach was having a conniption. I suffered through that. I was running late, and I kept arguing with myself about whether or not I was going to throw up. The nausea was so awful I had to try to force it. That never works but I figured I had nothing to lose...BUT EVERYTHING I ATE YESTERDAY! Oh yes, there was a mighty spewage of consumption. I almost barfed in my hair (sexy!!). Eventually it passed, and I called Lynda to explain my impending tardiness. She was hardly sympathetic. I'm trying not to take it personally. With all of the call outs I've seen, they're probably more than a little leery. Maybe I should have packaged up the vomit and brought it. *smirks* I was sent here...The College of Education. And I have a signal no less!! Yay!! Now I'll be able to get some work done. When I get off work I'm crashing until Danny gets out of class. I was leery considering I'm in uniform...which is why I brought a SHEET!! Oh yes! I don't have to look unprofessional now!! Woot woot!! I'm totally crashing at Gallery Lounge...though putting two of the regular student center chairs is so tempting...decisions, decisions. I've tried to settle my stomach with Ginger Ale but it's only made it angry. I think I'm going to die. I've got a sickie in my throat. :o( I need cuddles and hugs. Yay. This is my last grip of a series of gripes. No, I'm not telling you which I've mentioned contributed. This is one of those "I'm just saying," gripes. I preface it with that because it can easily be taken personally. I used to work with this woman named Julia at Target. She was mainly operator. It was really all she could do, though. A sit down job. She was morbidly obese. She nearly fell out when made to do a register shift one day. She was nice enough to me until I started losing weight. Of course then a majority of the women couldn't stand me. I hate that shit. No ego, just truth. Anyhow, she told me that she used to run five miles a day. I scoffed (not at her). I need to apologize now. It wasn't that I doubted her...I just didn't know how she could catapult from point A to point Z. I believe it's Jung that said we are born with an innate knowledge of what we need to sustain ourselves. We know what we're supposed to be doing, whether we do it or not. I'm in her shoes now. I'm bitched at a lot about my nutrition, though I know they mean well and care for me. That I can understand. What I cannot is the assumption that I'm not aware of this. I get irritated when I feel my intelligence is in question. I live in the 21st century. I KNOW. I give the BOD (benefit-of-the-doubt). They didn't know me, then--at least not fully. They didn't know my Cobb County life. Then didn't know, a year ago, I was a good four sizes smaller than I am now. I've been through some shit. Bite Forgive me. They didn't know I was a health nut, just like them...though I've tried explaining it to deaf ears. Health nut. Running. Pilates. Spin. Core Ball. I liked who I was and miss her. I hate that apparently I'm the only one who knows she existed, like I was in some bubble I was unaware of. It's just crazy, though. I know I was seen. I know. I'm told I need to do this and I need to do that and I should do this and try this... It makes me feel like someone's science project, or that I'm not okay as me. It isn't that I want it to seem like I'm hypersensitive to everything said. I'm just saying "give me some fucking credit." Were they able to do all of this within two months of moving out? Were their changes as sharp as mine? I don't know. I don't care now. I get ornery when I feel I'm not being heard. I need to have a working list...a Toni Manual...that I constantly add to. That way I can remember all I've said, and it would be more portable. *smirks* Things to know: It often takes a while between when I say something and when I do something. I have my own timetable, but I get it done eventually. Just because I don't say something doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it. I'm always thinking. There's always something on my mind. If I say there isn't, I'm lying. I just don't want to share. I'm very private. My priorities are whack. I work from the outside in. I think of myself last. Health, sadly, is the LAST thing I'm thinking about when put in line with getting settled and making sure I can consistently pay my bills. Once that's settled, and school is straight...then I'll think about me. "Why don't you..." or "you need to..." doesn't get far with me. I do what I want to, when. Don't tell me or suggest to me what to do. You'll get further if you ask about it in a nonassuming way. Queasy again and my stomach's angry. Wish I could take a nap right now...gotta go. K. Current Mood: sick Current Music: Hangin' Around--Counting Crows (Comment on this)
1:27 am	I Do It For The Fans. For all the girls… Who’ve ever been peeked at by the next door neighbor Whose father ever hit them Who were so sure they’d die by his hand Whose uncle ever held them too closely in a slow dance Whose uncles insisted on lap sitting and cheek biting with every encounter Who’ve worn bruises to school Who were inappropriately fondled, pinned or bitten by a male classmate Who’ve ever been hit on by clergy or the pious Who’ve ever had their occupation overheard by a man at church only to have him show up there and bang at the glass Whose boss has ever gotten too rough Whose boss has ever shoved them Whose boss has ever knocked them to the ground Whose boss has ever rubbed against or touched them inappropriately Whose boss has ever asked them inappropriate questions Whose boss has ever kissed them…twice Who’ve ever had to run or rush home Who’ve ever been followed home Whose had to change trains in route due to catcalling and harassment Who’ve been threatened for not returning another’s advances Who’ve ever been grabbed, swept up, and kissed an the street, by a stranger, uninvited Who’ve ever been groped in broad daylight at a public bus stop Who’ve ever been stalked Who’ve tried to leave a” friend”, been told they would be found, and seen it come to pass once they moved away Who’ve been told by their company that they “don’t know whether to hit/slap them or kiss/fuck them” on more than one occasion Who’ve ever been threatened with rape Who have been trapped in a relationship due to the emotional instability of their boyfriend (threat of suicide, etc) Who’ve been slammed against the wall Who’ve ever had to fight a guy off Who’ve ever had to throw a guy against the wall to deter him Who’ve ever had to sweep a guy’s feet from under him with a kick to get the upper hand in a struggle Whose packed on the pounds to hide and be less noticeable Who’ve ever hated being considered attractive due to additional complications Who’ve ever felt cursed for all their luck Who’ve experienced all this and more… I’ve gotta fight this. Swim. Fight. Breathe. It took me a minute to get it. I thought of any encouragement I’ve ever been given when I’ve been shattered like this. It always starts with “you can’t ______ you’re too strong…” or something of the like. Half of it is from what they’ve seen and know. The other half is because of what they need. It’s about more than me, and it always has been. I have something that a lot of people from both genders can’t stand…though I recognize it initially. It is this thing/these things that have been the undiscovered foundation for what I had no idea I was trying to build…all these years…as long as I can remember. That isn’t a contradiction. It’s retrospect. What’s left? Twenty-seven days. Aside from that…kicking. Breathing. Swimming. Waiting Biding my time as I prepare to surface. Some say the end is near. Some say we’ll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will. I sure could use a vacation from this Bullshit three ring circus sideshow of Freaks Here in this hopeless fucking hole we call la The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any fucking time. Any fucking day. Learn to swim, I’ll see you down in Arizona bay. Fret for your figure and Fret for your latte and Fret for your lawsuit and Fret for your hairpiece and Fret for your Prozac and Fret for your pilot and Fret for your cable and Fret for your car. It’s a Bullshit three ring circus sideshow of Freaks Here in this hopeless fucking hole we call la The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any fucking time. any fucking day. Learn to swim, I’ll see you down in Arizona bay. Some say a comet will fall from the sky. Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves. Followed by faultlines that cannot sit still. Followed by millions of dumbfounded dipshits. Some say the end is near. Some say we’ll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will cuz I sure could use a vacation from this Silly shit, stupid shit... One great big festering neon distraction, I’ve a suggestion to keep you all occupied. Learn to swim. Mom’s gonna fix it all soon. Mom’s comin’ round to put it back the way it ought to be. Learn to swim. Fuck L Ron Hubbard and Fuck all his clones. Fuck all those gun-toting Hip gangster wannabes. Learn to swim. Fuck retro anything. Fuck your tattoos. Fuck all you junkies and Fuck your short memory. Learn to swim. Fuck smiley glad-hands With hidden agendas. Fuck these dysfunctional, Insecure actresses. Learn to swim. Cuz I’m praying for rain And I’m praying for tidal waves I wanna see the ground give way. I wanna watch it all go down. Mom please flush it all away. I wanna watch it go right in and down. I wanna watch it go right in. Watch you flush it all away. Time to bring it down again. Don’t just call me pessimist. Try and read between the lines. I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t Welcome any change, my friend. I wanna see it all come down. K. Current Mood: determined Current Music: Aenima--Tool (Comment on this)
Saturday, October 8th, 2005
7:13 am	Rage. (Don't worry. I don't expect you to get it anyway.) Three days and I haven't cried yet. Maybe when I'm on the other side of it. I only have one person on my side in this. Only one person who gets where I'm coming from. Of course they're light years away. It's funny. You can pass as much as you want. You can do drag. You can hang with women. You can read about women in a studies class. Your intellectual grasp is faulty. You have to realize that you can never know what it's like to be a woman. YOU WILL NEVER KNOW. After this, I'll only be talking about it in vague(r) terms, if at all. I've seen the dead end. Two days, and it's already forgotten. "What happened again?" "What are you talking about? What is she talking about?" Lucky you. I can't fucking forget. I keep playing it in my head over and over again...trying to make it my fault. Was there something I could have said? Done? How didn't I see this coming? Aren't I a soc/psych student? If I had seen it coming...I would have obviously tried to avoid it. I'm used to (straight) men resenting me. It comes with my skin. But I never expected it to go so far. Why is it taken so lightly that I don't want anyone to fucking touch me. My far away daze is misunderstood. I'm not here. I don't want to be here. My bones are scorched mud incased in wet compost. My skin is debris. I feel DIRTY. DIR-TY. I haven't slept yet. Can't stop thinking about it. I have spontaneous waves of nausea...more deliberate if I ponder on it too long...which I can't help but do. Relapse of fear. I used to be so terrified as a kid. Terrified...and it took a decade and some change but I squelched it, until something so harsh happens that I regress. I find myself wondering where the "acceptance" point is. Maybe there isn't one. I think of laughs I've gotten when I would recount how scared I was being harassed on the way home...how being hit on is "no big deal," how this is "no big deal," said loudly without words...joke it off. Laugh it away. I shouldn't have to explain why. My feelings should be valid because they are there. I shouldn't have to recount my violent and vengeful experiences. Why is it always "that person is overreacting," as opposed to "something must have happened for them to react this way." But you know what? Fuck this entry, and fuck it all. All I wanted to say was thanks a bunch--I'll handle it from here--I should have known better. I got this. On a final note...I come back here after the fact usually to post because I'm very cynical period. If I bring up something and it doesn't work...I don't bring it up anymore. I find it pointless. I bring it up here not out of any form of duplicity but rather to settle things for myself. Give a final word. This time I feel that final word would be better received elsewhere. K. Current Mood: disappointed Current Music: The Child is Gone--Fiona Apple (Comment on this)
Friday, October 7th, 2005
8:02 am	I just took a quiz, that I took from Danny...who didn't love me enough to include me in it. Let's all look at him with disdain. *glares* Click here. Take the quiz. Post your results. ( See kryptica's results. ) I guess I'm not his LJ friend...*le sigh* I'll get over it...someday...*stares into the distance* So that's the third, or maybe fourth gripe on my list. I stayed out later than I should have. I really shouldn't have went to dinner when I knew I had to clean the apartment. All the same when I got home Saul helped me, which made me feel real good. What didn't make me feel good was having to get up so goddamned early. I'm undeniably cranky from that. I get on the bus to hear some assholes talking about women in a derrogatory way. I'm more sensitive to it now. No. I notice it more, and it pisses me off. I really have a lot to say about that, but I'm too tired right now. It'll have to be a post-nap entry. I get to work and I want to check my email. I didn't get to last night. I wanted to see if Dale wrote me back. I remembered that I was supposed to be able to trade 10 text messages for 24 hour unlimited internet use...but it was slow as fuck and wouldn't work through my phone. Blarghity! I could have used that dollar. Fuck you virgin. I can't remember if this was before or after I tried to use the time clock computer (I couldn't remember the password). This was before Kristal showed up (one of my supervisors). I'm always there before she shows up. So, I tried to be upfront and ask and she said no. o.O Sidenote: I've seen people using the internet on that comp during their shift and playing games. Thus, I didn't see the harm in asking. That was gripe three? *counts* Lack of sleep. Stupid boys. Motion denied. Yeah. Three (which would make Danny five...no six). I don't like being denied. I'm always shocked when someone tells me no. It isn't that I'm spoiled, but 99.5% of the time I know I'm requesting something perfectly reasonable. I'm one of those "either you give me what I want, or I'll find someone who will" people. Come to find out I get off at 11 on Fridays. The way Lynda explained it to me implied that Sunday evenings are my only 7-11 days. Three people called out. That seems to happen often. She wanted to know if I could stay until three...but I already thought I was staying until three. But what did I say? No. Why? SHE DIDN'T LET ME CHECK MY MAIL!! Hell no I'm not staying until three for you. Fuck it. Considering I still have a sliver of warmth in my heart, I said I'd stay until one. She placed me in Aderhold and what? Yeah. Got a laptop. Thanks. I usually win. I just do. It's like when my boss said "hell no" when I asked off for the Chevelle concert. We had two other co-workers; one a suspected thief, the other a suspected town idiot. Who did he spend most of his time with? Who did he confide in? Who fucking quit and transferred with enough time in the middle to go to the concert? :o) Don't fuck with me. To the best of my ability I'll make you pay--and that's no threat. It's simply a matter of fact. K. Current Mood: vexed Current Music: Little Jeannie--Elton John (Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 4th, 2005
2:46 pm	I Wanna Be A Feminist When I Grow Up. Apparently I passed out to snore status last night. I fell asleep on Michael...I fell asleep on the couch and Saul couldn't rouse me...then I went to bed and did that rare thing I do in extreme weariness. I reset my alarm...for 11 o' clock. Did I mention I like to leave at 11:30? Um, yeah. Luckily, I woke up after 10, before it even went off. You know how it is when you're sleeping too good...the kind of sleep that being naughty can only provide? Yeah. My guilt-ridden mind woke me up. Lmfao. "This is wrong..wrong...I'm sleeping too good...what time is it...*opens eyes and looks at clock* AHHHHHH!!!" I ran and ran and ran and ran (as in I hauled ass to get ready), and left only 10 minutes or so later than my usual departure time (I had to stop and clean the tub...shut up). I made it in enough time to even run an errand before class (my class is at 1:00). There was some mix-up with my degreeness that I had to fix. I even had enough time on the train to finish the rest of the chapter I was supposed to read last night. I was pretty golden. And to think I almost considered skipping when I didn't think I'd make it. Hmph. *shakes head* Then I went to class...but I'll return to that. I've been feeling pretty lost and directionless lately. I can't seem to remember what I'm in school for, or if it will even make a difference later. I'm starting to think that a college education is really only a crock of shit--a big ass receipt--an entrance charge to a higher job. "Of course I have this job. I fucking paid for it!!" I don't know. I can be delightfully cynical at times all the time. Lol. I find that when I'm feeling hopeless like this, I tend to lean, yearn, seek solace for/from norms that I wish I had. I find myself missing the Christian life I can't remember...or wishing that I was straight and just wanted the husband kids and white picket fence. I find myself wishing I wasn't so goddamned complex. But I actually took the time yesterday to physically journal (which I'm trying to get back into...I usually complete one or two a year and I've had this one...book 16? since last august...it might be 19), and it helped me straighten out some things. I started thinking about what I actually do believe in. I know I usually use Christianity as a crutch. I see it as this...or what I miss about it is that false sense of security. Knowing what I was 'supposed' to be doing and 'why,' and that 'everything was going to be okay (but of course not after I died...and only if I had been a really, really good girl). I use the hetero ideal as a crutch (if I could only behave...be girly and have empty desires...). It's a good indicator of when I'm feeling low. I know at least half of the problem is not believing in myself. My goals aren't concrete right now because I don't think I can reach them. A fourth is believing I have the potential, but not knowing how to cultivate it. An eighth is believing that no one else believes in me (so why should I). The final eighth is not having any networking connections. I know I want to make a difference. It really isn't a matter of fame, I realized as I walked towards the General Classroom Building. A lot of stupid worthless people are famous, and infamous too. I need to know that I'm not wasting my time here on Earth. I know I want to write for journals, despite my insecurities. I want to write things that change people's minds. I want to bring forth unity through the study of ourselves...through sexuality, and gender. Maybe I think what I have to say isn't worthwhile, though that doesn't explain why I talk so fucking much in class. I need a push. I need to be pointed in the right direction. I need someone to say, "yes, you're on to something...now this is what you need to do next." I need to know that all of this isn't in vain. That's a big thing for me: not wasting time. I wanna be a feminist when I grow up. I was gonna say that I don't know how or why, but the latter is false...and maybe the former too. I believe I started long ago...but I didn't know the name for it or realize what I was doing...sort of like existentialism. I want women to feel free to be themselves, whatever that "they" may be...in safety, and without societal pressure. I feel like I want to make it safe for them to "be," until they realize that they shouldn't need to be protected. We shouldn't have to be nervous. But how do I get there? Is it too late? Should I have been doing women's studies? I suppose I could do that in grad school. Will I get in? I don't know! Am I ready? I thought I wanted to wait a year. Just hmph. I need help. I have some ideas of where I can find it though. At least I've got that. I'm starting to ramble. I got distracted. I just know who I want to be...but I don't know if it's a realistic possibility or just an unattainable, idealized self. I digress. I went to class, and I'm glad I did. I had a lot of good input, which I usually do. The slides are really pointless though if you've read the book, but again...probably a boon to those who don't read. I need to start creating my notes. Again...someone with Microsoft XP...possibly in cd form (looks pointedly) or someone able to convert it into such would be RATHER HELPFUL!! Lol. Everyone's busy, drama, such, I know. Just a reminder. We were hopping from topic to topic under the same puberty/adolescence umbrella (this is my Women and Gender class) when we started talking about birth control, seasonale, depo, and HRT [hormone replacement therapy]. Then suddenly...a girl brought up PCOS. My heart stopped. I fucking died. Is there really someone else on the planet who has this and can talk about it intelligently that's absolutely tangible? I mentioned a month or so back that a paragraph was dedicated to it in our 600+ page book...though no one really noticed, because I really think only 5 of us read in there. There she was, Carla actually, talking about this...and I looked around at the lost and confused faces in the room...and had to raise my hand and add a few things too. Even our professor isn't that well versed on it. It really isn't something new...it only has a name badge now. I think we (Carla and I) were both stunned that someone else knew what we were on about. Class ended and I thought I saw her looking at me as if she wanted to say something but I didn't want to assume. She kind of cut off my path in the cramped room, so I let her exit first (the room is crazy...231...no one even knew it existed I swear until we had to find it...who has a classroom in the stairwell. Who!). She stopped me and asked how I found out I had it. I told her about my irregular horrible ampersands, but that my horrible doctor stigmatized it by calling it a disease (and that's always stuck...I've never been able to let it go). We started talking, and about the frustration of nobody believing us or taking it seriously...and how virtually we've had to live with it alone because there is no cure. Sidenote: I'm glad I'm not the only one dealing with people who give incredulous looks and don't take it seriously. You wouldn't make fun of AIDS like that. You wouldn't make fun of CANCER like that. Even if it isn't life threatening...you wouldn't make fun of ENDOMETRIOSIS like that. It doesn't seem to matter that I say "no seriously, it really hurts me when you do that." I try to be laid back. Whatever. But honestly? Every time you do it, someone does it, I find less respect for you/them and in those moments I think of you/them as an intolerable, insensitive, JACKASS. Eventually it's going to get to the point where I snap. I can't stand ignorant insensitive people. Anyway. </end>. We talked a bit more and Michael showed up, so I introduced him, and that's when I learned her name because I don't know anyone's name in the class. But OMG! She has books! I didn't know there were books on it. That would help a lot. She said she'd bring them Thursday for me to see. We'll see. She's lucky to be able to take birth control pills as hormone treatment to help her out...I haven't found any that won't fuck me up yet. It's interesting that she mentioned Yasmin. I guess it doesn't work for everybody. *sigh* She departed, Michael and I ran into Joey. We talked briefly and went our separate ways. God I'm hungry. Wish I wasn't broke. I'll learn my lesson, lol. Gonna be a few more hours yet before I can get home and solve it. Next class isn't until 5:30..and I don't want to risk being late or not wanting to come back. I guess that's it. I really better go. Oh. And I KNOW the T-Mobile phone I want now...and it happens to be free. Now if it's free they're probably about to discontinue it, or it may possibly go out of stock soon. A few issues. One a letter from T-Mobile apologizing for not being able to give me service...which is a little confusing considering I have no deposit. Actually, they said "the plan I wanted," not "service." Blerk? Two, I missed a whole day of pay accidentally...I just changed jobs. Will I have enough to pay rent this month? Other said expenses...AND my T-mobile bill? I don't want to start a bad habit. Three--how long will the phone be in stock? From what I could see it was/is a relatively new phone so theoretically I should still be able to get it in a month. Michael did suggest Amazon. Only thing is...I don't think you can get insurance when you have a phone that way. Nonetheless...looks like I have another month of pre-paid hell to look forward to, and considering I only put about $20 on it I may not be able to have service next month...at least until next Friday...and that's if all the payrollness is sorted properly. I suppose I'll find out tomorry. K. P.S: My mom left me a message today saying she just wanted to see how I was doing. I wish I could believe that she gave a fuck. *shrugs* I've only been gone...oh. Nearly two months. Considering the only other two calls she's left me are for money and the lock to my old room...I find that highly doubtful. *frown* Current Mood: ecstatic Current Music: Laffy Taffy--DMT (?) [stuck in me head!] (1 Comment |Comment on this)