stay all night

I can't wait to be home tonight. Not so much because I'm home, per se, but because I will have home-like things. I can wake up in the morning, on my comfortable bed and use the bathroom without putting on cat slippers first. I can take a shower without flip flops. I can have a TV to watch and great internet connection. And time to relax. Can't say there will be too much of that anyway because the night I get home, I'm hanging out with peeps. And the next day I'll be shopping and then I'll be with Ryan. Wednesday I'll be doing laundry? And Thursday-Sunday I'll be in Pennsylvania, only to go back to school on Monday. sigh. I just need some down time. A night with just me and movies and doing whatever. And I can't...but whatevvvssss. I'm looking forward to seeing people and doing things. And kinda sorta having my own room...

Two more classes to go.

Pardon me while I start packing now....

I don't care, I don't mind.

And that's a lie. I do care. I do mind. And what am I referring to? I'm referring to what happened in my history class today. I had to present my paper on the Council of Chalcedon, as well as offer my position on it. The Council of Chalcedon met in 451 to declare Jesus' being after three separate "heresies" commited by three different men who had three different opinions on Jesus Christ's person. Essentially, the Council of Chalcedon declared that he is one person, but with two natures that exist ever so nicely. Why? Because he's fucking Jesus Christ and they couldn't have their savior anything less than perfect: human AND divine. Right. Well, in my paper, I stated MY opinion. And no opinion is wrong...right? I stated that I did not believe in Jesus as a divine being, just as an historical figure who made up a new set of guidelines for Judaism...which later became one of the most popular religions in our galaxy...but whatever. And after I presented the three heresies, my professor asked me that if I lived during that time period and had to choose which one I thought was most accurate...or what I'd want to believe in. And I never thought of it that way because in my paper (which he had read already) I stated that I did not follow that jive. And I said Nestorianism which essentially states (in crazy Christian's minds) that Jesus is schizophrenic, with two personalities in one person. And he wanted to know how I could believe that Jesus was schizophrenic and I said that I don't believe in him that way anyway, but what makes the final solution of the Council any better than a schizophrenic Jesus? And my professor laughed and seemed to agree. But then my own personal beliefs came into play because it was mentioned that I do not believe in Jesus as divine, only human. And it came up that I am basically an athiest because I always wondered what makes my religion correct and everyone else's wrong (with other theological debate, of course...but I never intended to offend anyone in the class). But people were offended with my statements. Even the professor. And it seemed that I was under ridicule for my beliefs. I wasn't prepared to defend my personal opinion on God and organized religion and I was honestly taken aback with it all. especially my professor, a man of Theology, who should be understanding of all points of religion...even those whom don't agree with religion at all. And someone asked me if I had done my research on my own religion since I had done so much about other religions. And I said no. But why should I? If I believe what I believe (with other convictions, not just what came to me as a thought in 9th grade APP World History) why am I being attacked? If I sat up there and said that I was a Protestant, and believed in Jesus' humanity AND divinity, and I believed in God and that God would save me from my "sins" then no one would question me beyond why I agree with the Council of Chalcedon. But no. Because I openly admitted to atheism and not believing in salvation (what am I being saved from anyway?) and organized religion, I deserved to be poached. Well, fuck that. And my professor even said that I wasn't compassionate and caring because i wasn't a christian...and I was about to bust a cap in his mother fucking ass. I probably have more compassion in my pinky toe than half the people have in their entire bodies. I care so much about people. So much. To the point that it makes me physically ill. And he had the nerve to state my inability to care and be compassionate because I didn't believe in a higher being. Fuck that shit. I am soooo pissed.

It amazes me how open-minded I can be toward other people, regardless of their religious convictions. Even though the beliefs of many in my class are openly stated, I still don't think that they're bad people. Why? Because it's what they believe in. It's what they want to believe. And why should my belief be any different? I am my own person. I am a human being. We are all human beings. And we are no better than anyone or anything. I do not believe in a higher being that will save me from myself. I am not my own savior. I am no one else's savior. I am me. You are you. The end. Why was that so hard for my professor to grasp? Fuck him. I was so angry after my "presentation" that I felt like walking out. But I didn't want to make a scene because it would be hard not to. A girl who sits next to me even apologized for the attacks made on me. And when it came up that I was born Roman Catholic, someone seemed relieved. And that I only made these frivilous choices because of the religion I was "brought up" with. That anyone who is Roman Catholic would feel this way about religion. And poor girl, if she were brought up another denomination of Christianity, she wouldn't feel this way about life. But what THE FUCK is wrong with my philosophy on life? What? What the fuck is it? Huh? That I think everyone should be respected, treated equally, loved, supported, and cared for, despite their fucking religion or race or whatever other bullshit. I'm so angry. I'm going to spit nails allover some bitch's face.

The seasons have changed from present to past

This Strawberry Kiwi juice that I'm currently consuming does not tickle my fancy. Rather, I am not being tickled anywhere by it. No reaction. It's not good but I am not going to waste it. Though the name is "Strawberry-Kiwi" those are the last two kinds of juices in the whole container. Apples, grapes and pineapples make up for of this container more than the eponymous juices. I just thought this was odd. And I thought that I'd tell you it wasn't delicious.

I had dinner at Ryan's house last night. I took the train from Hempstead to Port Jefferson (for a total of two hours traveling time) and Ryan met me at the train station. I met his mom once before on Halloween, but I got to see her again yesterday. And I finally got to meet his dad, who was very courteous (I suppose that's the proper word) all throughout dinner. They are both cute because they compliment one another very well. His mom is very talkative and out going, while his dad prefers to listen and makes conversation here and there. And his dad seems a bit more serious about things in general while his mom can just giggle. Anywho, they were very protective of me when I was there which was nice; they thought I was taking the train back to Hofstra and they worried about my safety being on the train and waiting at the train station for the bus. And I thought it was nice, though I was bombarded with questions about train routes and train times. Ryan just drove me back, which was both of our plans...I guess they didnt know that.

And I finally saw Pulp Fiction. And that was a really great movie. In general, it was nice to cuddle on his couch in the basement and watch movies on what is essentially, a movie theater. The screen pretty much takes up the wall and there are speakers all over the place, that when turned up, shakes your insides and you kinda have to yell to the person that you are already on top of just to tell them something stupid.

The train ride was weird though. I guess I'm expecting my period, or I was tired. Or I was to my own thoughts too much, or the sky was too grey...or all of the above...but I started to feel extremely sad and there were several times where I felt like crying and I had to repress the tears. I had to shut myself down and bring myself up again to appear normal in front of Ryan. A part of me didnt even want to see him because I didn't want him to have to deal with the Debbie Downerness. But I forced myself to feel better and by the time Pulp Fiction started, I was okay. sigh. I wish I knew what caused it.

I have to shower and call Andrew.

Peace.

The soup

It gets a little old

drip drip drip goes the faucet.

and all I try to do is be beautiful.

drip drip drip goes the faucet.

and I'm never beautiful.

drip drip drip goes the faucet.

and the ocean shrivels.

drip drip drip goes the faucet.

and all i try to do is be beautiful.

take a ride, take a shot now.

It's kinda sad to live with someone and not speak more than five words to them in a day.


I'm on the 13th floor watching shows because my internet sucks (not like it's quiet in my room anyway). And in the room next to me a boy and a girl were arguing about being engaged and then the girl was talking about how it was only one carat and the guy was all pissed. And I was sitting here, pretending to be busy so I could hear their argument...and then I looked over, and the guy was reading from a script.

Blah.

And now she is screaming about abortion. This is one fucked up hypothetical couple.

I'm fooling somebody

A faithless path to roam

Deceiving to breath this secretly

This silence, a silence I can't bear

People in towels give the best advice on condoms

I've been spoiled the past few months. And I know it. And while it can be a good thing, it also makes you pouty when you don't get what you want. Being someone who hasn't had everything handed to me my whole life, I learned to be grateful for whatever I got when I got it--even when it was something menial. I appreciate everything to the fullest still, but I have become spoiled by my boyfriend who insists on buying lots of things for me a lot of the time. I've grown accustom to it...which can be a negative because then you just start expecting things...and I hate expecting material things (what do they really count anyway?). And yesterday in the city I realized just how spoiled I am becoming because I stood in Times Square pouting for at least a half of an hour for not getting what I wanted: tickets to Broadway. I was a few pouts away from stomping my feet all the way from 42nd street to 34th street. How fucking stupid is that? I mean, after all Ryan has done for me, on top of everything that he paid for yesterday (because he didn't want me to pay for anything), I still had the nerve to be angry with Ryan when we couldn't see The Lion King on Broadway. And none of it was his fault, which makes it even stupider times twenty-thousand.

We had a great day. He got to my dorm room around 8am, and we hung out a bit before we went to a diner to catch some breakfast. That was already a great start because I haven't gone out for breakfast in forever...and I haven't been to a diner for breakfast in even longer than forever. So, after breakfast, we went to Mineola train station where we caught a train into Penn Station. I started walking in the wrong direction because I'm a Silly Sally, and he followed, thinking that I knew what I was doing. After seven blocks I realized I was going the wrong way, so we backtracked and eventually wound up in Times Square. We went to Toys 'R Us and rode the ferris wheel because he hadn't done so before. Afterward, a trip to the M&M store was necessary and we both got our M&M aura read, and we're both silver M&M's :). Anywho, we dilly dallied a bit more and then I remembered Bryant Park was nearby and we went. What a bore...no fun tents with cool shops, no pretty fountains, or catchy music. Just tables and seats and hella long line for the ice skating rink. Bryant Park prior to Christmas is kinda boring. From there we went to Central Park which was ridiculous getting there because we took the F train and that put us way way way way underground. We walked up about six or seven flights of stairs to reach sunlight. And then we walked about four or five blocks to get to the Central Park Zoo. After glimpsing in the gift store which had really cute stuffed animals, we walked past the Zoo really quick and found our way into the park which was beautiful. The leaves were orange, brown, yellow, and red. And some trees were totally naked already. The squirrels were fiending for nuts, little doggies had argyle sweaters to keep them warm, the duckies were happy to be getting so much attention, and the pigeons seemed a little depressed because the ducks were more appreciated than they were. Central Park is huge, however, and I didn't get to see Strawberry Fields...and I'm kinda alright with that because before we even got to the Park, my feet were killing me (not a good idea to wear heels). Ryan and I got lost in Central Park, on the many little paths covered with leaves, but eventually found ourselves by another smaller lake with a single little motorized sail boat and a few ducks. We both got a little sick of the Park and walked out...and then walked for another thirty blocks or so to get to a steakhouse that Ryan wanted to take me to. Smith and Wellensky? Apparently it's really famous...why ain't I heard of it then? Anyway, we got there, and it was very, very pretty. Even the bathroom was attractive. And here I had great wine, great steak and THE best fucking broccoli I have EVER had in my entire life. The cheesecake wasnt so bad either. My feet screamed at me when we had to stand up to leave. Once again, boots are not a good idea. We hailed a cab back to Broadway to catch a showing of The Lion King. Yeah, they had seats but the only seats available were $125 or $200. Fuck that. Plus, they didn't take Ryan's card, so we were at even more of a loss. I was a little upset at that point, but I figured we could still see The Little Mermaid or Young Frankenstein. False. Ryan wanted to wait (probably because he knew they weren't going to take his card and he didn't want me paying for us). And at that point, places that weren't restaurants, outside of Times Square, started closing and we couldn't think of anything to do. And that's when I started to pout. And Ryan felt badly about it too. But all I could do was pout. I stood there, up against a building in Times Square and just made a pouty face, and refused to give him kisses. Why? Because I'm stupid and unappreciative and spoiled. No longer was I appreciative for the train tickets, the ferris wheel ride, Central Park, the uber expensive dinner, cab ride, the entire fucking trip in general...because I've grown accustom to that kind of treatment...and I wanted more. sigh. I feel badly about it now because on the train ride home he kept promising me that we'd do it again and that we'd go see a play and that it would be better than this trip. And the thing is, it was a great trip despite my really sore feet. I got a day in the city with my boo, and that's all that really matters. So I feel like an ass for making him feel like the day wasn't enough...but I made it up to him later :)

People in towels give the best advice on condoms...

I have to get ready for class. It's in thirty minutes. Peace out.

Cool sexy, ever ready, someone fine, always steady, gentle hands, dirty mind,

If I have to see one more weight loss advertisement on a website page, I'm going to explode. It's really irritating to see that crap everywhere online. No wonder I feel like crap about myself these past few weeks. All I've been seeing are flat stomachs without a pinch of fat on them. And of course they are female stomachs. No, not a man's six pack. Only a woman's flat stomach and "perfectly" proportioned body. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of feeling inadequate. I'm tired of always being reminded of what I dont look like. I'm tired of being told that's what I should want. Why aren't I allowed to live in my own little bubble of happiness without eighty-thousand websites telling me to be thinner and flatter and less flabby and more beautiful? And I'm sick of seeing ads for the acai berry diet. It's soooooooo fucking obnoxious. Yeah, I get it. Oprah lost weight by including acai berry in her diet. But i'm pretty sure she also threw up while running on the treadmill with a trash bag over her clothes.

And what I'd also like? To not get shit for showing affection to my boyfriend. Why? Because it's hypocritical. Everyone has done it to their significant others at some point but because it's Fran and because everyone is without their other half most of the time, I'm not allowed to do it. To put things in perspective, how long was I without someone while everyone else was with someone? How often was I left at home by myself because everyone else was too busy doing things with their boyfriend/girlfriend? How often was I a fifth wheel? A seventh wheel? And now, because people are left without, I'm not allowed to talk about it or be happy about it because it makes people jealous or annoyed. Everyone's a hypocrite it seems.

And I also do not want to write this fucking paper that is due on Thursday. I had a shitty Saturday night because this paper was looming over my head. And now I'm reading shit on the council of Chalcedon, hoping to know enough to write shit about it, then present it to a class that probably knows more about it than I do. sigh.

I want to improve my posture starting right now.

Do you think I'm really cool and sexy?

and I know you want to get with me

Last time lover, make me feel good

lovin' under cover like you should