Ugh, I just hate it when you tell people specifically not to have sex with creepy blonde vampires, but do they listen, no! I told Angel not to have sex with stupidhead Darla, but what does he do? Screws her into the mattress. Psh! And stupid Kate’s all suicidal, and Wes’ all weird… Oh, and of course there’s the whole evil demon lying in wait for Cordelia. In case you can’t tell, I just recently got Angel on dvd. And though I’ve checked a billion times and places, and am 100% certain that Doyle’s never coming back… Still hoping. And god, but Lindsey’s a beautiful man! And Spike. Mmm… Spike! And ghost Dennis is so sweet. I kinda love it.
Category Archives: Home
This right here is some of the only proof that Arizona has weather. Yesterday’s clouds were prettier, but I couldn’t get a good shot of any of them. This was taken right after school, at about 3:45pm. If weather was like this all the time, but not humid, i would be in heaven. Some people, however, are not like this. some kids were even wearing sweaters and huddled up like it was cold. if it was winter, that’d be one thing, but it isn’t. it’s summer, and huddling up is probably making it worse. Sweater Weather is when it is below seventy degrees for more then three days, in my opinion.
Ya’ll remember that super annoying, mega insulting kid Andrew? Apparently he likes slash. Now, I’m not sure what he was referring to, a comic book, a tv show… all I know is that in the fan fiction world, slash means boy love. The world’s most annoying, slightly homophobic person ever likes to read boy on boy romance. Hah. It pleases me. Not as much as the one (And I mean one) book I’ve managed to find that had a main character that was gay. A fiction story, too. Not a self-help book, or a nonfiction thing, but an honest to god, for pleasure only fictional story. And he wasn’t magically cured of his gayness, either. He got a guy. Not the guy, but a guy. I loved it. I read it a million times this summer.
On that subject, I met my first mean gay person over the summer. Granted, he was about 70 years old, and had just soiled himself, but it happened. He yelled at me, and called me a pain in the ass suck up. Then he spit at me when I started laughing. I think I like mean gay people almost as much as nice gay people! I wonder, is it terribly wrong that I want to just give all the gay people of the world, nice or not, a ginormous hug, and pair them all off? I don’t think it is.
Once, just once, I’d like to have a school schedule that wasn’t completely messed up. I’m in a Junior Advisory Base, my dear, beloved computer, UberBitch, has been ‘upgraded’ to who I will now refer to as SlutBag, and for some reason, I’m taking Yearbook. I hate yearbook. A lot. The only respite i get is Drama, and this year I have it 5th period, instead of 1st, like last year. Having it first gave me the will to suffer through the rest of the day. Now I have to wait until after lunch. Grr… But, on the very slight upside, I get to blog now, I get to write, and I get to IMDB. Yay!!! No more sneaking blog posts or comments on my aunt’s computer at 3 in the morning! No more trying to check my email on a tiny phone. Also, my foot is totally asleep. Yay… On that note, or not, it’s my devil spawn of a sister’s first day of high school today. I think she’s cursed, because someone threw up on the bus this morning. I take pride in the fact that our bus has never had an accident for as long as I’ve been riding it, and then she comes along and ruins my streak.
First off, I spelt that right on the first try, and misspelt ‘spelt’ twice. How’s that for consistency? Second, so SO sorry about the long absence. The only internet access I have is via my tiny phone. I can’t even text without it taking forever, so imagine how long a whole blog post would take??? But, it’s 1am, family is sleeping or at work, so here I am, breaking my vow to never use this computer for blogging, just so I can contact my lovelies. Normally I’d say something about how only I could hold off blogging until two days before school starts up again, and we get our computers, but… just guess what didn’t happen. The title of this post should be a hint. My aunt ( lovely, obliging girl that she is) didn’t register me or my sister for school when it was time to, so now she’s fumbling around at the very last minute, trying to get us registered in time for Friday. Yeah… UGH!!! It’s not even the fact that I want to go to school, cause I don’t. I plan on leaving home ASAP, writing a few books, and becoming independently wealthy. Or leaving home ASAP, getting all the stuff you need to live on your own (IE; license, job, home, etc) and then, after a few years of struggling to make it, find a good man (as is: nonfiction, straight, strong enough to carry me when i’m tired) and relying on his substantial wealth. But mostly, I just want to be… done, you know? No more sitting through hours of useless classes, fights, and sob-fests when they aren’t going to make any difference. I was doomed from he second I walked into first period freshman year.
No one who goes from a crappy, low budget TUSD school to a small, fully computerized school that wants you to learn is going to make that transition nicely. I handled crappy city schooling better then I do Empire. And, let’s face it, I liked being a smart kid. I was in advanced classes throughout most of middle school, all of elementary school; I was in the advanced 8th grade english class when i was in 6th grade. I had a college reading comprehension. Now I’m retaking a bunch of classes I could have passed easily, I have this underlying desire to leave now, and never look back (coincidentally, I have this underlying fear of what me leaving home now would do to the rest of my family. read, my youngest sister, my cousins, and my cats.) So, while I am sitting here, whining to all of you about how I don’t care about school anymore, I’m also whining about how as of right now, this very second, I don’t attend a high school. Hey, I never once said it made sense. It’s just what I think and feel. I’ve been doing this a lot, recently. Just saying (or thinking about saying) what I feel, regardless of how it makes people think of me, or who it hurts. Then again, I’ve also been contemplating the meaning of life, to the point where I question why we do the things we do to become successful when in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. At all. If all of the people in the world who’ve done nothing but good dropped dead, life would go on. ultimately, nothing would change. Huh. I have no idea how that ties into my original post topic.
Eh, not the first time that’s happened. And most likely, not the last, either. I think I am slightly (or maybe it’s moderately) hypochondriac-tic. Not sure if that’s a word, but who cares. I keep having these random bouts of abdominal pain, but I’ve done so much WebMD-ing, that even if I did actually have a disease or illness, or whatever, I would just think I was imagining it. Although, If I ever need to write an essay on appendicitis or intestinal blockage, I would ace it. Wanna know something gross, that if my sister ever read this, she would just die of embarrassment??? I think, a few hours ago, I heard her… ‘taking care of’ herself (to paraphrase Scrubs). or singing. I’d imagine they sound similar. Grody, no? I don’t get how anyone could do that to themselves, let alone let someone else do it to them. Sorry Jamie, but it’s yet another mini-rant about the utter grossness of sex. It’s like in that one movie with the guy with the face thing, cause of how he was born ( i forget names) and Sandra Bullock, and they don’t have sex ever in the future, they just put in an order and get a baby invitro-ed? that’s how I think it should be. it might sound naive, and a little prudish, but look at it this way: no sex, no rape. No sex, no accidental pregnancies. No sex, no emotionally scarred kids walking into their parents room… during. Ugh. ‘Nuff said. Anyhoo, It’s now 1:44am, I am extremely tired, I may not be going to school come friday morning, and I think someone is trying to break into my house. Or it’s windy outside. So goodnight, I love you all, and I sincerely hope to ‘see’ you all on Friday.
So many of my friends have admitted to at least thinking about suicide, and it makes me want to cry. I obviously knew i wasn’t the only one, but i had no idea i was so closely connected to others who have. I’m honestly glad none of them succeeded, because if they had, I would be completely alone. Sure I have my family, but we all know how much that counts, in the grand scheme of things. To me my friends are my family. They’re my parents, my sisters, my brothers, and I would do anything for them. And I like to think they feel the same about me. The put up with my weirdness, and my childishness. they take care of me, even if i don’t ask for it. When i’m with you guys i can be myself. no hiding, or anything. I don’t have to be the stronger person, taking care of everything, and everyone. I think it’s the level to which I love you all that makes me so afraid of doing something to make you hate me, or forget about me. I credit the fact that I’m even scared of that to my ‘parents’. Mainly my mom, though. Cause. while he did abandon me, it was the day after I was born. I didn’t ever see his face, or have the chance to connect with him. but with her, i did. Sadly enough, i truly thought she was a good mom. I thought it was normal to be left alone for hours on end, no food, no babysitter, at five years old. I didn’t think twice about the fact that she’d take me to visit with people i’d never met, and leave me there for days. most of the places had other kids there, and they were all just as scared as i was. when i was in kindergarten, the first time we went to get our check ups with the nurse, and she said that i was… i can’t think of the word. but i guess i wasn’t the right size for my age. height and weight wise. the second shortest person in my class was three inches taller then me. (that’s why i’m so sensitive about my height. both my mom and dad were fairly average height.)And then when I was seven, and we lived in DC. my sister and i had been fighting, and she came in and saw us. i don’t remember what happened exactly, but I remember waking up on the floor of my room, and my hair and the place where my head had been being bloody. when i walked into the kitchen, she told me to eat my dinner. never even mentioned what had happened. Point being, she was a bad mother, but even after all that, I loved her. so when I was eight, and we were taken away from her, i was upset, and angry. but when we moved in with my aunt, and my mom ran off, i was just empty, i guess. we were only supposed to be out of her custody for six moths, while she got help. but we weren’t worth the effort. my other sisters don’t even remember her, as they were five and one, respectively. they aren’t affected by it at all. not emotionally. physically, sure. my littlest sister has tons of n=mental issues because my mom was smoking, and drinking, and lord knows what while she was pregnant with her, and my other sister has ADD or something. According to my ever so observant aunt, i’m lucky. Apparently if your issues aren’t diagnosed, they don’t exist. So because my fear of abandonment hasn’t hindered me too severely, and no one knows just how many times i have anxiety attacks, I’m fine. perfect bill of health. As if. Just so you know, this post will likely disappear once i regain full use of my brain, so if there’s anything you want to say, say it before i come around.