fucking to one of my songs

so. ooooh, it's bold. you didn't expect this shit, eh? Well, it happened, get over it. Maybe the bold font will disappear before you know it. In mid-sentence it could disappear and you'll never see it in this blog EVER again. Oh snap. Bold AND CAPS! What is this world COMING TO?!! Hopefully a world of peace with a sexy Chocolate man as prezzie. I'd still do him in the backseat...

So, I finally talked to my mom today. She said that my dad is opposed to me driving to North Carolina by myself. I'm assuming it's because I'm a girl. It's because I'm his little girl and I can't handle the fourteen drive alone with big, scary men on I-95 in their Dodge Ram Pick-up trucks who have small dicks and huge egos and puny ideas of the world at large. I can handle myself in this world. I have proven myself more than once. Sure, it's nice to lean on people here and there, but I like to think that I am independent. The fourteen hour drive did not scare me. This concept was relieving. Yeah, it'd suck balls, but I'd enjoy the alone time and the scenery. But I might not get that now? Sigh. I'd like to fly considering I've never done it, but I would also like that experience of driving by myself. I hate being restricted for being female. And he can stop me because it's his car. I'm no longer paying insurance so he can dictate what happens with his car. Sigh. This world is soooo oppressing.

Did you know about wine ettiquette? Well, I learned from first-hand experience. Let me fill you in on wine ettiquette. The first time Ryan and I ordered a bottle of wine was at Houlihan's. This was still early on in the relationship, and we had never gotten alcohol together. Sure, he'd order beer, but I never had alcohol at dinner, and never got it because I knew it'd make the bill more expensive. And I was naive about the whole ID bullshit. Anywho...Ryan suggested that we order a bottle of wine at Houlihan's. I was in the drinking mood, as was he, so wine seemed like a great idea. Neither of us were (or are) wine pros, but we managed to decide on one that had a fun and fruity description next to the wine's name. Ryan ordered it for us, and the waiter did not ask for proof of age and I was content with this wine business at dinner. I really wanted/needed alcohol. Duh. The waiter comes with our adult grape juice and shows the bottle to Ryan to confirm that this is the bottle he ordered for us. Ryan nods and the waiter opens, with struggle, our wine and pours a tiny bit into Ryan's glass and asks him to taste it. Ya know, to see if he approves. Ryan does so and decides that it's good. And then, because Ryan said it was okay, the waiter poured me my glass and then filled Ryan's glass. And walked away. So this is what our society comes down to, folks. Sorry to disappoint you with a feminist ending, but I cannot fathom the wine testing thing. 1)The man at the table confirms that the wine presented is what was ordered, 2) The man at the table gets a little taste test, just to make sure HE likes it....because, ya know, that means that I will automatically like it as well, 3)The "lady" gets the first full glass because ladies first is an hella old concept (as is the man making the decisions for the couple). It's complete bullshit and unfair that my boyfriend gets to decide for me if I like the wine. And every restaurant we've been to where we got wine has done this. It's not just Houlihan's. It's everywhere. And we've ordered wine from at least eight different restaurants. Fuck this patriarchal society. Why can't the male and female each get a sip and decide TOGETHER if it's worth drinking. It pisses me off so much.

Guess what? I still have a roommate and I still cannot have sex because of it.

Bold font is over.

He blew his mind out in a car

He didn't notice that the lights had changed

A crowd of people stood and stared

They'd seen his face before

Nobody was really sure if he was from the House of Lords

The ocean

I'm tired. I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of you, I'm tired of me, I'm tired of being surrounded by ignorance, I'm tired of technology, I'm tired of reading shit that I dont want to read, I'm tired of being told what to do, I'm tired of feeling guilty, I'm tired of sucking, I'm tired of being sucked, I'm tired. Get it?

anyone other than me

notice how basic white cotton panties can make you feel unattractive? like, i have a really good collection of sexy underwear. or cute underwear. or underwear that doesnt make me feel like an old lady of thirty-five with two kids, and the only thing I have time to shop for are the basic cotton five pack of Hanes underwear at Target. I have panties made of lace, I have sheer panties, I have silk panties, boy shorts, cheekies, briefs...all kinds. And as of current, because you really need to know, I'm wearing basic white cotton underwear. and I feel less attractive when I think about what kind of panties I'm wearing. They are flattering. Sometimes they can look cute. But I feel fat and they make me look fat. The gym is in order most definitely.

So I've been thinking about my level of attractiveness lately. Like, what makes me attractive. There is no doubt that people find me attractive and that I consider myself attractive. But I've been wondering how I am attractive. How to explain....hhmm...okay, so ya know how there are some chicks that are attractive because of how they carry themselves? Like, I know a few girls that act like they have that "it" factor, and they are deemed attractive because of this. And then there are the girls that are actually pretty. That have the eyes, nose, lips, cheekbones, forehead and symmetry (and proportions) which make them pretty. So they are legitimately attractive, even without the confidence bit. Now. I've been thinking about this. Am I the girl that isn't really that attractive, but I carry myself well, thus people perceive me attractive. Or, do I have the features of a pretty girl. That most people would find me pretty, just by looking at a picture of me, without knowing how I was in person or some shit like that. You know what I mean? Would the kind of underwear that I have on make a difference at all? If I were wearing my sevens, would that up the ante? Or whatever.

I've kinda been going crazy lately. Did anyone notice? So much going on in my mind and it catches up to me. Like a pregnant hamster sitting on top of my lungs, preventing me from breathing like a normal human being with normal thoughts and normal worries. I have been uber stressed. My dog is dead. He is officially dead. Melany texted me Friday night telling me that Tobie was put down on Tuesday. And it's a coincidence that Tuesday was when I was sick. I had a horrible migraine that day. Funny how things work out that way. Regardless, Ryan and I drove out to Suffolk County to an Italian restaurant called Carabba's, and I was doing well. I did not feel achey in the head, I was stressless because it was Friday night and I had my honey to spend time with for the night. And I was texting Andrew, and I got a random text from Mel. And my dog is dead. I've been fretting over it for weeks, and it's finally done. And yes, I wanted to cry. I need to cry. Need. But I couldn't. Why? Because I was out to dinner with my boyfriend. Not a good place to totally lose it. Upset about Tobie, upset about my life as of current. No me time. No understanding the foreign language I signed up for. No catching up with the homework that I've been slacking with. Nothing. No nothing. If I started to cry in Carabba's, I would not have stopped and I would have made a scene. Jen made a point: I should cry in front of Ryan. I don't like to cry in front of anyone, but the way i've thought of it, I trust him to see me naked, and to know parts of my body with his hands and mouth that I wouldn't trust other people with, so why can't he see a few salty tears fall from my eyes. But the other way I thought of it, it's a new way to be vulnerable to someone. Sex is a totally different emotion than sadness (or insanity, whatever) though both can tear you to pieces if approached the wrong way. With sex, I face the risk of losing my own domain. My body, my skin, my curves, my everything. Sadness, I risk losing clarity, happiness, peace. In the moment of both, I lose myself. And I suppose it's easier for me to let my body go in order to achieve orgasm, than to risk crying and not stopping. But as I said before, I need to cry. It will make me feel a lot better. And I want him to see it. I just have to actually do it. I've held back tears for the past three weeks, not having a chance to express my pain, my fear, my sadness, my worry, anxiety, hatred. It's all boiling inside my body, and I refuse to release it. It's never the right time. I feel worst when at work, or class or the gym or in a public place. When I'm in my room, it won't come. Those tears won't come. And tonight, when I wanted to tell Ryan that I was sad because I thought of never seeing my dog again, I couldn't say those words. Because saying them out loud, just like typing them right now, brings tears to my eyes. That's the worst part about death, the toughest thing to grasp. Never seeing that being again. I can't call him over to me anymore, I can't give him cookies anymore, I can't pet him or brush him. I can't do it anymore. And that's what hurts inside. That's what makes me want to break down. It's what makes me crazy everytime someone close to me died. Knowing I could never see them or speak to them again. And now it has happened with my doggie. My little Tobie is gone and I won't see him ever again.

11th grade I lost my grandma, she died in her sleep. 12th grade I lost my uncle to AIDS, essentially. Sophomore year of college, I lost my dog. And it's never going to get easier. The older one gets, the more loved ones one loses.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that Andrew and I were meant to be friends. Like, I can't imagine him not in my life at this point. He can make me laugh like no one else can. He is one of the only persons that I feel 100% myself around. And I know he will be there for me, and I for him. And I hope, regardless of what happens in our lives, that we always stay in touch. I have a feeling that if we lost touch for ten years and bumped into eachother at a high school reunion, we'd have everything to talk about and there wouldn't be a silent moment. Anywho, I'm glad he's stayed in my life through these years. He helped to make me who I am today. I am a less serious person because of him. And I suppose I did something for him.

I'm drying up inside. And it sucks.

And ya know what I want to do? I want to fuck. I want to fuck and I can't because I have a roommate.

I love him.

I just can't say it.

Call it emotionally dysfunctional if you'd like.

It's just that vulnerability again.

And I used the word "just" like it's something so simple. Giving up vulnerability is apparently easy.

College is driving me crazy. I still don't get why I'm doing this to myself sometimes. I'd be better off in the Peace Corps.

I really really really really really really hope Obama wins this election.

I'm looking forward to going home this weekend.

It's all in the panties, man. It's all in the panties.

Love and Peace...though I have major problems with the "l" word.

God woke up on the wrong side of His bed.

I dont know why I started this blog. I dont feel like talking to anyone. Not like anyone's really going to listen anyway.



The future president will be on campus tomorrow. I'm hoping it's the lovely Chocolate man. Yeah, I'd do him in the backseat.



There's this one Indian professor (I think he's Indian and I think he's a professor) that I see all of the time. He is THE sexiest man ever. Or, in my top three. Everytime I see him, I have to look at him as he walks by. I first saw him Freshman year. Love at first sight. we all know I love ethnic guys anyway, and...the things I'd do to him in the backseat. He is tall, thin, well built, in his forties, dark-skinned, dresses well, carriest himself well, has gray hair....shit, he's sooo fucking hot, I can't stand it. Well, anyway, I saw him today. Let's call him...Joe. I saw Joe today while visiting Coral and I just smiled to myself because I feel like he is my dirty little secret...that maybe isn't so secret now. But I never mentioned him to anyone before, and everytime I see him, I just want to kiss him. He really is gorgeous. Shit, Joe. Shit.

Some songs are so very pretty.

I feel fat right now. Either I'm bloated or I really am obese. I'm going with a little bit of both.

The campus is crazy right now. Can you believe that the future president will be here in my vicinity?

She believes in everything

And everyone and you and yours and mine

I've waited a thousand years
For you to come and blow me out my mind

Crawl inside

I have half of an hour until I have to go to class. I have my sex class and my LGBT class. Overall, not a bad day. I had math earlier and though that's a different story all together, it's a good day. It's not too chilly out, I have two decent classes left and then I'm off to the gym and then dyeing my hair. My roots are coming in like a mother fucker, so it's imperative that I get that radiant red hair back again.

I've been going to the gym again. Basically on the days that I do not see Ryan, I do some shit at the gym. Not anything too strenuous yet, but just getting myself to feel less bulky. Essentially, I eat out seven days a week. Ryan and I go out to eat when we're together and then it's campus food which can be just as bad as going out to eat, ya know? And I feel unattractive, so I go to the gym to get some sort of attractive shape to my frame. I thought about it, and if I actually tried (like REALLY tried) to lose weight, I would have a bangin' body. I think I have a semi-small frame underneath my flesh. Maybe I'll be a model with all of this weight I won't loser.

I feel like I need to do catch-up with this blog today....what else?

I am coming home again this weekend because Ryan still has to have dinner with my parents. I'm coming home Friday night and leaving Sunday afternoon (I have work). I also wanted to go home so that I could let Victoria have the room to herself for a day or so. I feel badly about her not having her own space (especially when boyfriend is over) so a night where she doesnt have to worry about our shit might be semi-nice of me. It's worth a shot, right? uummm....

I've been thinking about going blonde again. Maybe after I dye my hair red, and let it fade a bit, I'll go a dirty, dirty blonde. I miss the blonde hair more than I miss the long hair. Red is fun and it was different, but I want a change again. And I feel like I have the freedom to dye my hair whatever the fuck I want. It seems like my mom cares less and less about what I do with my body, ya know? It's okay to have sex, it's okay to drink 'til oblivion, I can dye my hair whatever I want. Oh, freedom. I love living away from home.

I have to buy warmer clothes. I ordered a sweater online but I tracked it today and it's apparently on back order. So I probably won't get it until it's too cold out to just wear that. Fuckin' shit. Oh well. But I need warmer clothes. Nothing here really suffices, ya know?

I want to go to the gym now. Not wait until 7pm to go. I just want to feel better about myself. I'm doing it for me.

Uhh....yeah. This was a pointless blog that I'm sure people skimmed through. Nothing frantastic in this blog. Nothing life changing. Just me thinking out loud about all of the things I have to do coming up.....shut up.

And I took out my tongue twice removed from my face

Across a bridge and across the mountains

Threw a nickel in a fountain

To save my soul from all these troubled times

And all the drugs that I don't have the guts

To take to soothe my mind

So I'm always sober

the power to be

My sunflowers stare me in the face at all times. It's like their brown, fuzzy centers are eyeballs that look at everything I do, and hairy ears that hear all that I say. And, perhaps, report it back to Ryan. Like, "Yes sir, she said nice things about you" or "No sir, she did not cheat on you" or "She is wearing cute underwear today, so you should definitely visit today." Silly, I know, but that would be funny (and way creepy) if it did happen that way. But my flowers are muy pretty even though most of them are wilting already. And I think I'm going to ask for calla lilies next. Or orchids. Or maybe orchids and calla lilies together in a bouquet. It shouldn't seem selfish that I ask for these from him because I think I deserve them, ya know? I never ask anything from anyone, and Ryan for that matter, and I feel like every girl should have something pretty to look at. Especially something pretty given out of affection. My favorite sunflower has a little bee on its fuzzy eyeball. And it's my favorite because Ryan said he saw it and automatically thought of me. An extra something that he wanted to do for me beause he knew it would make me happy. I named it Gus because it's a total Gus and everything cute, according to me, is now named Gus. Anywho, I don't feel badly when I ask for some things from him because I basically don't. Typically, he just gives. But I don't go around saying "buy me this, buy me that." More often than not, when he tries to pay for things that I want, I tell him to shove off. I try to be self-sufficient. *shrugs* Last night I told him that I wanted to see The Little Mermaid on Broadway and he said he'd look at tickets online. And ya know what? I'm not consumed with guilt for asking because he wants to do nice things for me. It made him happy that I asked for it because he knew that I really wanted it and he wants to do things for me that I really want because it makes me happy. And seeing The Little Mermaid would make me happy. It just makes him happy to know that i'm happy. Gross, I know.

I have a book idea and I want to start writing. But there's really no point. Why? Because I have no time and it never sounds the same way on paper as it does on my head. But it would be really funny and it would be a great movie too. Entertaining, yet with good moral standings. I guess I'm an entertaining, moral kind of gal. No, not really. But I want to mock society and make it laugh in the process. It won't happen, so whatever. Suck it.

And I'm still not artistic enough...I need to be artistic.

And....my roommate comes home tonight. Boo hoo. I liked having my own room this week. *sigh*

And I just found out the other hamster died :(


I am a moth
Who justs wants to share your light
I’m just an insect
Trying to get out of the night
I wanna stick with you, because there are no others

forget about your house of cards

I went home a few days ago. And in this time I had to clean out my old room. I found an old journal that I started but never finished. I read some of the shit I said. How things change. My life now is nothing like I imagined it at sixteen. My attitude toward others is not the same, my self-esteem is not the same, how I loved is different. It was a weird trip back to my old state of mind. I read something about my plans to go to a two year school (most likely Suffolk) and then go into the Peace Corps. And from there I would decide exactly what I wanted to be. I still want to be in the Peace Corps, but I opted for a four year institution instead. And a job to pay off the loans I have...then maybe I'll try to save the world. I wrote about how I want to live in England...now, I just want to get the fuck out of the United States. I'm about to bust.


I dont know why I started any of this if I'm not going to finish it. Typical Gemini. I have to get ready for work though. Sigh. Peace and love.