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Thursday, November 21, 2013

Something You Are Proud Of

She is taller than me, stronger than me, more flexible than me. 
She is smart and funny and warm at heart.
There is nothing you can say that brings her down, 
because nothing you do will tarnish her opinion of herself 
or the way she thinks of her self image, and if you try 
there is an army of love an support that surrounds her. 
She is soft and warm and does thoughtful things for 
unsuspecting people that do not deserve such kindness. 
And yes, she is stubborn, but I taught her that, 
and more and more I see that stubbornness 
turning into determination, and those things she fears 
turn from trepidation into maturation 
as she challenges the world to a litigation. 
She will argue life until she is blue in the face, 
but eventually life will give up and she will raise her head high and smile, 
because she knows what if feels like to win, 
because she was coached on how to lose gracefully, eventually. 
I taught her many things, but never in a million years 
do I think I do a good job, nor can I claim credit 
for the qualities I admire in her, displayed or kept hidden. 
She is gentle and supportive and she smells familiar, 
like something I can't place but I know I've liked before. 
"Home is wherever I'm with you"
and there is nothing I like more than her and I together,
content with the fact we have nothing to hide
but the fact we enjoy each other's company more than we care to say. 

Word of the Day: Snarky

she walks with steps as if she wished to shake the ground; her voice was bossy, and lacked any sentiment of care or feeling, as if she were a robot with a southern twang. There was nothing she had done to personally offend me, and yet there is no feeling like an instinct where you know this person could not sympathize or empathize or compromise with you; essentially, you have nothing in common and opposites will never attract in this case; so give up. She wears purple like it will keep her alive and heels like their's a height requirement in the field she's in; god I hope not because in that case I've failed already. She gives you a reason to believe she hides a snarky personality behind professional walls, leaving it exposed when you don't have the answer she's looking for. Don't subject yourself to vulnerability, stand up to her and fight for what you've done. Admitting your mistakes is just one step in the direction of being a better person; at least you can say you're trying when the day is done, and you've taught yourself a lesson.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Because This Is Who I Am

I am late night book reads
i am a few tracks from an 80’s album
mixed with the smell of a bonfire
i am old news and good news whisked with
the excitement of a planned tomorrow that could
make for a memorable yesterday.
i am cooked meals at dinner tables and
none too many a home sewn together with
the lines drawn between friends on a map
of the world.
i am a child and a desperate lover combined
with the need to care and the cry to be cared for
i am a wishing well of secrets that pools into
advice when the time is right
i am a safe that guards all but can be opened
by many, and only when secrets conflict do i feel
the need to change the combination
I am a bookshelf filled with old favorites,
unread adventures and pages that have yet
to be filled, or are halfway there and desperate
for more
I am the pictures in my head, striving for a
perfect reality no one has heard me talk about
because I’m too afraid to say it will never come true
I am the observer in the world hoping tomorrow
someone will love me, will pick up my puzzled pieces
lay me down and put me back together again,
so I know what it feels like to be wholly loved
I am next day turkey and dark hot chocolate
the first rain of spring that brings me out of my 
deep frost and leads me to new hope
I am the summer that fills you with the feeling
that life will go on in bliss and the world you live in
will only hurt you so long as you let it. 
I am the letter you never expected to receive and 
the guest you'd love to see show up on your 
front porch, because who doesn't love 
surprises that make your eyes shine so much
you get bubbles in your stomach and feelings that
could warm the cruelest of nights
I am that feeling you get in the morning when you roll
over in bed and know you have a few more hours 
to sleep the static away, the crazy pictures in your head
that will clear for a vision of a better tomorrow
I am a Friday, a Saturday, and a Sunday brunch
I want you to hear me like you hear the waves whisper
to the dock or the rain sooths the roof at night
Breath me in like the first day of autumn where you 
see the leaves rotating through colors
breath me like coming up for air when you thought
the rapids would hold you under forever
See me like I see myself when I have those days
were I look in the mirror and think Damn, today is a
good day to be me, because today i am wonderful
Know me because I want you to know me, want to
be an open book with the best type of secrets
knowing not that there will be an ending, just
a series of new beginnings brought to life
Because this is who I am, and you should never
be denied the realization that I am forever

Thursday, November 14, 2013


I imagine myself spinning
turning faster and faster
trying to keep up with the world around me
so fast, it might seem as if time has stopped
because that's all I want
I want time to stand still because I've spun so fast
I've achieved some kind of equilibrium,
that was never thought possible
But we are never still
in reality we are going so fast we don't even notice
and so I imagine myself standing still
dizzy and swaying from the weight of all that
pressure in trying to stop the world
and when my eyes come back into focus
all I want to see is you
because I tried to stop time for you

But I can’t
I can’t see you or hear you or breath you in
because that time I had tried to hold onto
spun out of control
and before I knew what had happened all
that time was gone
and I was left trying to hold onto something
I never could control
and that is time and that is you because
you are one and the same and now
and I am out of time
I still couldn't keep it for you

Monday, October 21, 2013

Floyd's First Name

I don't like my last name. Not because it sounds weird, or that it's spelled funny, or that it reminds me of my dad. But because it makes me think of my Dad's dad. I can't say that it reminds me of him, because I never met him, but it reminds me of the fact that he never gave me the chance. He never gave half of his grand-kids the chance, and I'm afraid to ask why. I'm afraid to know why life could be so bad that you could give it up, when the alternative is spending time with people who are as great as Dad and Auntie Judy and Auntie Barbie and Kishka. What could have been so bad that you needed to leave this world, with them in it, for another, without them. There were so many stories I've never heard, so many memories of you that could be there, but aren't. I am too ashamed and afraid to ask why, but I still want to know. I'm still curious as to how and why you are no longer with us; I am still curious as to your full name. But I know you are never mentioned by it, never talked about by name or thought about with fondness out loud, and so I don't know why you deserve my dad's last name; because although you had it first, he deserves it, and you, you gave it away to a better man.

Gemini Baby

I love the month of June. It is, without a doubt, the best month to have a birthday. It is six months away from Christmas both ways, the temperatures are warm but not too warm, and there is that smell in the air that no one can mistake for anything but a sign that summer is coming. So I am perfectly happy to be a Gemini baby, and yet sometimes, I'm not.

I should start of with the fact that I believe in some parts of the zodiac. I believe that there are some trends in personality depending on when you were born, what planets were in power and when you parents were down to get dirty nine months before; however, the zodiac is a bit too eerily specific for me, and that I think is the reason I don't trust it.

For example, Gemini's are supposed to be talkative. If you know me, there was never a truer word spoken about my personality/character type. But then it gets more specific; multiple sites say I like to talk because it furthers my relationships and need for information...don't most people want to do that, Gemini or not? Don't get me wrong, I know people who would rather glue their mouths shut if they had to talk as much as I do, but i'm pretty sure they still want to further their relationships with some of the people they know, and gather more information about...anything.

So zodiac websites generalize. We knew some of it had to be fluff. But what if some of it isn't, and they really know my in's and out's. To name a few freaky coincidences, I think of myself as fickle, restless, with an unsatisfying lack of follow-through and generally nervous and flighty. I think I am incredibly adaptable and quick-thinking but also impulsive and indesicive. I don't know if I actually am all of these things, but I have been told I portray these qualities at least once and I fear I am a combination of all of them.

Something I know is that I judge people by the way they treat me, and not by how they act around others or looking at their deeper qualities. I never like being bored or having too much down time, and I never like anyone but my closes friends and relatives to know I am stressed or moody. I always want to be happy...But who doesn't?

The last thing I will mention is this paragraph from the second link below. I haven't dated in awhile so I don't know if this is still true, but from what I have experienced in my history, it rang true before.

What it's like to date a Gemini Woman:

The Gemini woman is truly enchanting. However, dating her might feel more like a friendship then a real relationship due to her casual nature. This is not necessarily a disadvantage, for the casual man who shy's away from overly romantic emotions, she is the perfect woman. Since she is the astrology sign of the duality, she offers quite the challenge. One one hand, she needs to be nurtured, loved and catered to and on the other hand, she needs stimulation and novelty. She is very demanding and if you do not provide what she wants, she will be off onto the next adventure pretty quickly. To keep her interested is a challenge, not completely impossible so she is the perfect woman for the man who likes stimulation and a challenge. She needs a partner with a quick mind, she tends to poke and prod at the emotions and the minds of those who are mentally slower then her, make sure you can keep up to her wit or you will briskly be left behind. She is prone to keeping men on a string, not completely heartlessly, she is evaluating if the man is worth her attention and her time she has no time to waste with a dull man. Once you have her approval, she can easily become jealous. The reason for her is jealousy is that if she is going to open up to a man, when she rarely completely opens up to anyone, she does not want to risk her being deceived or hurt. If you are with a Gemini woman and she becomes jealous, you are on the right track to true love! Gemini women are so exciting that they are worth the effort, you will remember her forever!

How To Attract Gemini:

Love to talk, that is the first rule about impressing a Gemini. Be knowledgeable about that you talk about too because Gemini are intelligent and have lots of knowledge about many things. If you are an expert on a certain topic, teach them about it, you will impress them because this know-it-all sign is does not usually know fine details about a lot of things, they are too busy to bother to learn. Speak your mind, engage them in a friendly debate but never be too conservative, they find this dull. Be honest and loyal to a Gemini, once they have had their trust broken they usually will never get it back again. Gemini are easy to date, they will do any activity anywhere. Just have fun, like you would with a friends because that's what Gemini are, a great friend.

Is it too vague? Too specific? Does it fit you, whatever your zodiac sign? Let me know, I'd love to find out how I embody a Gemini Baby.

Sunday, October 20, 2013

"What If..."

What if I could dance. The scariest thing I have ever thought of, aside from losing the people I love in my life, is not being able to live out my dreams. One of the biggest dreams I have for as long as I can remember was that I wanted to be able to dance, and I wanted to do it well. I imagine myself on my high school stages, on picnic table at camp, in front of people who have judged me or before an audience with someone in it whom i was desperate to impress. When i listen to songs my mind wanders, especially in the car, about what my body and self image would look like if I could put on sweatpants and a t-shirt and dance my problems away. I am always taller, sexier, more impressive and graceful and majestic, higher than everyone else, working my way into their heads by saying "look, this is what she can do, don't I wish I could to that too?"

A lot of that is manipulated by society; dancers are skinnier, reasonably tall, and have unmatched grace and beauty. I'm not saying I want to be pencil thin or have a flat chest, but dancing is one thing I have always wanted and never gotten. Even when I wrote my college essay, saying how I danced in my own way because I choreographed other people, and how that makes me a dancer, that was a lie; the only thing that made me was self conscious, watching other people flaunt the one physical talent I have always wanted. I am not ok with teaching people how to move, how to look beautiful, because that is what I want for me, and each time I think about it I die a little more inside knowing it will never happen. I never danced at my school prom. I will never have a first dance at my wedding. I won't know the feeling of being sexy during a tango or a salsa or dancing in my underwear listening to music in my room. But all of those images flow into my dreams right before I fall asleep, and the last thought that goes through my head simply questions "what if...?"

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

What I Wore Today

Imagine a day cool enough
to be fall, warm enough
to still have wisps of summer
entangled in your body

I wore smooth silky pants
Black and flowing appearance
but soft and gentle to protect
the goose bump-layered skin

I aimed to be content
sneakers tied neatly
over pink-toed socks
make of thick cotton

Known as a waffle shirt
a stripped pallet of grey
and lilac wrapped me in
a gentle knitted warmth

Last, to cap my outfit off
a baseball hat protected
the soothing heat from
vanishing into thin air

So as that day in fall
cool enough for fall
clothes reminded me
of the heat of summer

Five Guys I Find Attractive

I honestly don't know who to pick. Not because I don't think any guys are attractive, but because when I think guys are attractive it is then and there in that moment that I want to bang their brains out. But does it have to be sexually attractive? Can't I want them for their brains, or smile, or sense of humor? I'm just going to go with the list of people I could consider loving, deciding this by how lucky and happy I would feel waking up in the morning and seeing them next to me (I know it's cheesy, but think about it, what's a better deciding factor than relying on your guilty conscience).

(I'm debating on putting names up, because on the one hand, I want you to know exactly who it is, but at the same time if any of them ever saw this I'd be a goner)

(this attraction is the one exception, and I would prefer not to wake up next to him in the morning)
This is the story of boy meets girl, and boy and girl have a whirlwind romance. But be forewarned, this story is not a love story; it is not a love story because boy doesn't love girl and girl only lusts after boy, because at that time it is the only thing girl knows how to do. So boy uses girl and girl follows along, and before you know it girl is hooked on a ship that wont stop sinking. Eventually she is saved and surfaces with a new outlook on life, one she picked up from being on rock bottom, and an acceptance for the fact that not everything in love is what it seems. She knows now the difference between love and lust and will feel forever guilty of thinking of these moments again, but can't help the fact that she will forever find his deadly charms attractive, no matter how much pain they caused her. Such is her fatal flaw.

There was this one kid, in middle school and high school, who drove me absolutely crazy. He was what kept me going all summer long, in the sense that there was no one else around but him, the only flower among weeds. But oh did he have thorns. He was pretentious and obnoxious and so incredibly cocky sometimes I wondered why his head didn't just explode he was so full of ego. But I think his (overly) confident attitude is what drove me to like him; he would never let anyone tell him what to do, and he never took life seriously. And man, he had the greatest smile and hair, damn. He refused to call me Kings, in fact he always always called me Kingsley Floyd (he struggled with the middle names), but he did it, I think, to tease me, because it was such an easy thing to tease me about. He will be forever associated in my mind with the cocky, tall, and egotistical handsome pictures that I see in other guys.

So then we have the skater boy. He was also in high school, but a bit later on, and I started to like him purely for the fact that he was a mystery. He was in one of my English classes, and he wrote like a man with an air that he knew stories the world had never heard before. He had hair that fell over his face and bright eyes that could see right through you. I have a feeling he never saw me though. He was too popular, with his skateboard propped against the wall and his chin resting in his hands, staring into the space that creative writing provided. My heart stopped every time he even glanced in my vicinity, and i quickly looked away. But I got the feeling he would have never known unless I hadn't told him, and even then it didn't make much difference, but it was that puzzling mystery about the whole situation that made me finding him even more attractive. 

Next up is the dreamer; "the what if, one day, you and I got together, I know we could make it work." I have honestly no idea if I could ever love him romantically again, I only know that I did once but I will never know if those feelings were mutual. What I mean when I say we could make it work is that we could love each other and sleep together and wake up in the morning still friends and still reminiscing of the night before and not feel anything but the thrill that it will happen again. He is sexy and attractive and I feel like I could tell him anything, but the tenderness that could go along with all those things might never appear between us. I don't think we could ever be in love, just mutual respect and acceptance. He will always be mine, he just might never belong to me.

Finally, there's you. I want to marry you: I want to watch you wake up in the morning, and as you read yourself to sleep at night, I want to know you're there. I swear on nothing but the truth that you are the one I have always loved, the one that I picture myself with in ten, fifteen, twenty years time; as long as it happens someday, I will wait till then. You are frustrating and annoying and you drive me to nothing but madness, and I think that is part of the reason I can never be mad at you. I know nothing in my soul but love and forgiveness of you. You surprise me everyday and for that I can only be grateful that I am never bored with you. I like to say your name; I like it when you say mine. But there is nothing I like more than seeing your face every time I have given up hope because I know at that moment you love me, and probably always will.

My Body

In 6th grade, I was unbearably uncomfortable with my body. I thought I looked ugly, misshapen, with a back that reminded me of monsters in children's stories and a long pale face that smiled grimly to frame bright blue braces. I had long brown hair that was nothing extraordinary, and my failing eyes required glasses which i thought completed the look of an old spinster with funky teeth. But the next year I got a scooter and I felt more confident with myself. I thought it made me a better person, less self conscious, more free to focus on my personality towards people and less on how my back affected my looks. But then people started commenting on how I walked less. My aid at school told me I waddled like a penguin, that I didn't smile and that I shouldn't laugh the way I did; she said it threw people off and pushed them away. So I stopped laughing, I stopped smiling and I stopped walking in front of people I thought would judge me. And again i became more aware of what I looked like and what people thought of me. I couldn't understand why something so coveted as boobs and good teeth made me feel so awful and caused so much pain. But I moved that year, and my braces came off. I stopped getting a kick in my confidence every time I went to school. I became more independent, and I found activities I loved and people that I could relate to, and wasn't afraid to bring home. I was still self conscious, but much less so than before.
Camp helped a great deal with that. Texas told me it was OK to roll instead of walk, and that there were other people like me who were comfortable with who they were, even at waist height, and didn't care what their mode of transportation was. The first year I worked at Pine Tree let me know that I could hold a job I loved and that I could be good at it, I could be independent and I could work with other people.
College was a different story, and what started off as nerves turned out to be paranioa. I was afraid of being rejected, being alone, being homesick, and failing myself and my family. Towards the end of the year I just fell apart, because so many medical problems happened at once and I just couldn't keep up. But then I got my boob job, and no matter how against I am towards plastic surgery, I have never felt more confident in my own self. I never knew how much my boobs dragged me down, and I never knew how much my self image affected my everyday life. C's are so much better than D's and a butt that is bigger is better than no butt at all. I like myself a little bit more now, and even though you can never stop improving, I'm now at that point where I can be proud of the body I have.

Thursday, September 26, 2013

My Family

This was my first attempt at writing about my family...I realized I had too many people who qualified...

Because I'm in the library, and can't put headphones in without seeming rude and unprofessional, I'm switching it up and doing my family first. I have 5 hours, I hope that's enough time.

Because this is the internet, I am going to use code names for my family, aside from the regular Mum, Dad and Puni. They can all keep their names, as unless you know me and my family, you will have no idea who they are.

There are so many ways I could describe my family. There are the businessman, the isolated, the crazies, the sensitives, and the ones that I can't put into a category because I know and love them too much.

I will try and explain my family by the memories I have of them; in this way, you will think of them more as a part of my life and not by some name that could mean nothing.

So this is my second attempt...
Dear Family, 
Mom and Dad bug the crap out of me. They are annoying and pestering and they have too much wisdom. They are too smart, too good of parents to me and Puni. I don't know if I can handle it. I will say I wish they let me make my own mistakes more often. Not the life threatening ones, like go skydiving without a licensed professional, or go into the job market without a degree (the one I'm working incredibly hard for at the most Disneyland of colleges, which I love {thank you for paying for}), but I need to go into the world knowing what I can and cannot do for myself. I am a trial and error kind of gal, and I don't think you let me make my own mistakes enough. I need to try, and fail, before I can really succeed. 
Aunt Jane is amazing. I want to be a teacher who changes the world, and she qualifies as just such a one. I want to be book loving and creative and have floor to ceiling windows like you. I think your house is too messy, but I get that that comes with the territory and I love your apple pie. I wish I knew Uncle Burt better, because when I was little his beard scared me and I only started to like and know him a bit back. I do wish we had more in common, but I haven't discovered much, other than poetry, yet. 
And I didn't like that either...
Dear Family, 
Thank you for loving me. Thank you for raising me, and caring for me, and trying to teach me the ways of the world in very different fashions. Thank you to Aunt Jane and Uncle Burt, who taught me a messy house promotes ideas, that floor to ceiling windows are amazing, that books can take you so many places and that whatever happens they will always be there. Thank you for giving me cousins that will swing me around and boost me up on their shoulders, like Neil, Isaac and Joel.Thank you to Aunt Bay and Uncle Smith, who taught me that even when they don't see me they love me and are thinking of me, that second chances are worth everything, family reunions are a must and that through the toughest of times life is still worth a dip in the pool. 
Thank you to Aunt Ria and Uncle K for exposing me to good food and family ties and those parties that you never want to end. Thank you for giving me cousins who I can relate to and cousins who tease me to pieces. Thank you Aunt Ria for bailing me out of trouble and being my sounding board, backbone, iTunes Library and my own personal Wikipedia. Thank you Uncle K for being Dad's best friend and so many laughs; thank you for being "kool." To Uncle Bob and Aunt Lu, thank you for introducing me to crab dip and zumba; I am glad to know we still can have fun every once in a while. 
Thank you to Mia, who I love and admire, and who has a great sense of style. Thank you James for providing excitement in my life and cooking me great food. Thanks Mindy and Ellen for Thanksgivings and Christmas Break in NH. 
To Danielle, I want you to know that I love you and am always there for you, and that you, like me, have a family that supports you. 
To Wiz and Pop, I know we don't see eye to eye but your emails cheer me up, always. I love being kissed on the head, dome-smacker, and pearls are truly my favorite stone, for June. Don't give up on me, or Christmas, or the 4th of July, because it would be so different without you. 
To Mom and Dad, you bug the crap outta me. You are too smart, too pestering and too wise for your own good. Sometimes it's just overwhelming. Mom I can't deal with so many questions at a time. Dad, I'm glad you let me make my own mistakes, because sooner or later I will never make them again. 
Puni...Puni, Puni, Puni. You are a torture and a menace but I am proud to say you are on the honor roll and you drive better than Mom and Dad combined.  You're loud and annoying and I could never live a day without knowing you're taking care of yourself...and the dogs. 
To the other members of my close family, some adopted; Auntie, Auntie Rose, Eden, Sue, you are all still part of my life, and you know it. Thanks, once and for all, and know that I will always blame you for bringing out the crazies in me. Cheers,

Monday, September 23, 2013

The Importance of Education

I find it ironic how much I want to be a teacher, and yet I feel that the education system is so flawed. I want to teach people the power of words. I want people to feel how much people can express themselves and make themselves heard. I want people to realize how strong a story can be, anyone's story. But the education system focuses more on what must be taught; the strict requirements that students must learn, to be determined as successful. Education is so highly valued, but valued how, now that college is becoming more of a requirement to be successful. What happened to the days when high school was enough to broaden your horizons. Yes, the world is growing, but it's also getting smaller and smarter. People can't keep up, and its becoming more and more expensive to be knowledgeable, rather than smart.

I don't know how I feel about focused education; I have known, essentially, what I have wanted to do since I was in eighth grade; I wanted to work with words. But I could as easily see myself teaching as I could advocating, being in government, or writing and publishing. All of those things attract me because they incorporate the power of words so strongly into their everyday life. So why put too much emphasis on Gen-Eds? We, as a society, think you need to narrow down you field, so we give you options. Great, good idea. But don't make someone take calculus when they're failing the class. Don't implant the Darwinism theory into someone's belief if they plan on going nowhere near the science lab. And why do we need a degree in theoretical physics or a thesis on why Oliver Wilde was gay, and therefore influenced his most famous pieces and quotes. Its Science, or English, and you should leave it at that. No one is going to care, unless you are a professor at Harvard, what your thesis was or why Newton's personality affect his laws. These are all examples, but you get the point.

What I Ate Today (yesterday)

Breakfast, please come 
more often. I miss your 
light love in the mornings, 
because it reminds me of
sunrises and whitewashes 

I ate an all consuming 
omelet and bacon, having
within it morsels of tomatoes, 
peppers, onions, and that 
love of mine known as 

Lunch was combination 
of the above, later
satisfied by a fruit snack
or two and a lovely glass of

Dinner caught me by surprise,
as my stomach announced 
unexpectedly that it was mad.
I cooked two eggs, the first
failing to melt on toast, with
lovely garlic goat cheese atop.

Later, my stomach protested still, 
and so after calling in reinforcements
we made bow-ties with vodka sauce.
I was quite content until ten, when I 
ate the leftover chips, and then proceeded
to brush my teeth and dream about
what I would eat today.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Five Pet Peeves

Five pet peeves. I supposed a pet peeve is something someone else does that just gets under your skin. My pet peeves tend to be somewhat inexplicable, I think, in the sense that I can't explain why I don't like them, I just don't. 

I think the biggest thing anyone can ever do to bug me is not listen to me. My mom does it, all the time, and sooner or later I feel like I will just stop telling her things altogether. Not listening to me means I'm not important enough or what I'm saying has little value, so why am I talking? I don't like the sound of my own voice that much. I don't feel loved when I'm not listened to, and everyone likes feeling loved. So in a roundabout way, if you don't listen to me, you might not love me or respect me that much. In which case, we shouldn't talk anymore. End of story.

Another thing that irks me, but is much less controllable, is snoring. I've been told I don't do it, I've been told I do, but when the lump next to me is singing the song of the freight train, my sleep deprivation grows as my patience diminishes. You could be my night in shining armor, but if you snore we're going to have a different problem. It's not even so much the heavy breathers, but the inconsistent drum roll up someone's nose. 

Similar to snoring but much less pleasant is sniveling. Yes, I mean both the synonym to sucking up as well as the announcement that you have snot in your nostrils. I don't need to know as much as you don't need it in your body. A tissue, a hankie, even a sleeve will do at the worst of times, but please, don't sneeze it out on me. 

So I am a romantic, it's a well known fact. I will never ask you to be a romantic, nor will I try and force my beliefs upon you. But I believe that a budding romance comes to a point where, if nothing has been done till then, action must be taken. Don't stand back in the shadows, FIGHT FOR HIM. Tell him, kiss him, just for heavens sake come out with the fact. It never did anyone any good to torture poor fools in love, so make it known. At least then the giant pink elephant in the room can be acknowledged. 

A great pet peeve of mine is touchy people with simple minds. The ones who use names so outdated they come off offensive, or their tone condescends so much you could slide down it like a ski slope. No one asked you for your medical diagnoses, or who someone can love in this world. Go back to your cave with your paisley curtains and monogrammed everything. I never asked you for your starch opinion. 

Some of these are harsh, I know. And I know I definitely have more, however many they may be. But I feel like I'm a tolerant person who tries to respect people; and except for maybe the snoring, I come across and ignore these pet peeves every day. I just have to pick my battles, you know? 

Thursday, September 19, 2013

My View On Mainstream Music

Wordle of Top Lyrics of 2012

Preview of Wordle for 2013

No one can deny a good beat or a catchy lyric. And even out of mainstream music society has popularized, recognized and set to replay some songs that became classics. But the definition of mainstream is a prevailing current or direction of activity or influence, and honestly I'm not thrilled with the direction mainstream music is going. We have one or two hits every year that we listen to for a set period of time, but I don't feel like we've created a legacy. I want the next Beatles, the new Aretha Franklin and someone who can challenge the Police. I also want a song other than Stairway to Heaven that we can play at the end of a dance, something that my generation, or someone close, created. Love songs become more cheesy, rock and roll becomes more about sex and less about struggle, and frankly I think the world is running out of ideas. I want to hear a new mainstream, something that will never die. So as much as I want someone to call me maybe, or however much I want to hear the applause, it wont last. I'm just wondering if I will ever appreciate the "next big thing."

A Letter To Your Ex

Dear You,
I don't have dreams anymore. I don't have night terrors or moments when I feel like you're hiding in the shadows. I don't cry anymore.
I remember everything about you, because you made forced me to remember your name because I said it every day. You forced me to remember how old you were by lording it over me. You forced me to remember your eyes because you kept your face three inches from mine as you pinned my moral to the ground. I could no more forget you as I could lift you off me.
I don't remember exactly when I last saw you. I have relapses where I think I might die if I ever did. But I also have those moments, once in a while when my memories sink low on the bow of sleep, when I remember reading with you. I remember writing with you and you drawing me, and I hate myself a little bit more every time because I don't hate those memories. I treat them with a caution and unease that superman treats kryptonite, because he knows someday it might kill him. But it's a beautiful substance all the same. You can't always haunt my nightmares, but no one ever said anything about trespassing on my dreams. It was always so like you to go where you were never expected. I regret only that I can't erase all of you, except the knowledge that you were a good idea that turned into a better mistake, only because you made me learn more about the world outside my bubble. Congrats, I didn't know your needles were that sharp and that the dreams might someday kill me. But I'm glad I can say now you're out of my nightmares, because now at least you're not there when I wake up in the morning.

Bullet Your Whole Day

So here's how today went:

-First, I woke up. All I wanted was cute puppies and chocolate and wine, because guess what guys, I found out in the most painful way, that I'm not pregnant...again. Thanks, but next time put a note in my underwear drawer or something.
So Lilly helped me up, and I brushed my teeth and got dressed in this really cute outfit, and it was great start to my day. Then we went to the bakery and I got a southwest sandwich on a jalapeƱos cheddar bagel, and it was delicious.

-Then I came back to the apartment and Kate told me she and Reilly broke up. Shocker. Look, I like them both, but I called that. So I listened and comforted and consoled until she left, whereas then I finished my Jackie Robinson movie and convinced myself I then had to try, and go to class.
-Italian is beautiful. I love it. My teacher is funny, the class is less busywork and more language conception, and I love that. I do not love the creeper that sits three down from me. Sufficient to say he's on my "top 10 suspects if I suddenly evaporate" list.

-After class, I came back my room and heard more about Reilly. But Kate had class, AND LILLY SHOWED UP TO GO GROCERY SHOPPING. It's a really well kept secret, so don't tell, but I LOVE grocery shopping. It's like going into the place that sells your passion and being surrounded by love and cucumbers, every time. There's very little that will change, but so many outcomes.

-We then bought $115 dollars worth of pasta, cheese and baking supplies to make pancakes and love, and proceeded to the grille to swipe for a sushi roll. It was definitely yummy.

-In the interim between when Lilly left and came back, I read my book, talked with Kate and her friends, did homework and watched TV. Then Lilly returned and we took a shower with my new shampoo that smells like sexy men in a citrus garden. Sufficient to say Lilly thought I was crazy for buying men's shampoo, and I just wanted to smell nice. After that, I watched half a movie with Adam and Kate, and proceeded to fall asleep sitting up before going to bed at 12.

Monday, September 16, 2013

A Book You Love

Let me try once more," Milo said in an effort to explain. "In other words--"
"You mean you have other words?" cried the bird happily. "Well, by all means, use them. You're certainly not doing very well with the ones you have now.” 

“if something is there, you can only see it with your eyes open, but if it isn't there, you can see it just as well with your eyes closed. That's why imaginary things are often easier to see than real ones.” 
“As the cheering continued, Rhyme leaned forward and touched Milo gently on the shoulder. 
"They're cheering for you," she said with a smile. 
"But I could never have done it," he objected, "without everyone else's help." 
"That may be true," said Reason gravely, "but you had the courage to try; and what you can do is often simply a matter of what you *will* do." 
"That's why," said Azaz, "there was one very important thing about your quest that we couldn't discuss until you returned. 
"I remember," said Milo eagerly. "Tell me now." 
"It was impossible," said the king, looking at the Mathemagician. 
"Completely impossible," said the Mathemagician, looking at the king. 
"Do you mean----" said the bug, who suddenly felt a bit faint. 
"Yes, indeed," they repeated together; "but if we'd told you then, you might not have gone---and, as you've discovered, so many things are possible just as long as you don't know they're impossible." 
And for the remainder of the ride Milo didn't utter a sound.” 

To a child, there is nothing more wonderous than the adult world and nothing more exciting that doing something you've never done before, or making sense of something you've never understood. I read The Phantom Tollbooth countless times as a kid. My dad read it to me for the first time, lying in the giant queen bed in the master bedroom as I yawned. Yet I managed to push my bedtime farther and farther by asking for just one more chapter. My excuse was that it didn't make sense yet, and it just had to make sense. I lied, though, because every word in that book made beautiful sense to me. I understood everything Milo was going through because in a fantasy land of the young and drowsy, nothing is better appreciated than a bedtime story about a hero in a far off land who's task is to rescue not one, but two princesses. I remember thinking about the words I had recently aquired as I stood in front of my fourth grade class I told them about the far off country of India. I remember struggling in adolescence about how people would tell me things were impossible, and I would say to them in my head that it was only impossible because you said it to me, and therefore have destroyed the idea in my head that it once was possible, for me. 
 And all of those ideas in my head, those dreams that never seem to come true but even now hold that promise of a good thought, that book held that reminder for me. See the imaginary thoughts, the imaginary ideas, and those dreams turn from your imagination into real life on paper or in words or into people you meet. I love that book for keeping the child alive in me, and I remind myself that nothing is impossible until you say it is. 

“Would it be possible for me to see something from up there?" asked Milo politely.

"You could," said Alec, "but only if you try very hard to look at things as an adult does."

Milo tried as hard as he could, and, as he did, his feet floated slowly off the ground until he was standing in the air next to Alex Bings. He looked around very quickly and, an instant later, crashed back down to the earth again.

"Interesting, wasn't it?" asked Alex.

"Yes, it was," agreed Milo, rubbing his head and dusting himself off, "but I think I'll continue to see things as a child. It's not so far to fall.” 

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Something You Feel Strongly About

If I had to fight for one thing, i would fight for second chances. I feel strongly about second chances. I sometimes even feel strongly about third fourth and fifth chances
I think I depend on them
So much
Because of what I could loose
If I didn't
I would loose a chance
To better myself
To boost a grade
To redeem and earn forgiveness
To make myself into someone
Who someone else would want to be
I depend on them
I depend on that sense of
Maybe tomorrow
Maybe the next day
I crave that feeling that maybe this time
It will be better
I have that unwavering faith in people
That generally gets me in trouble
And you would think
That with all that trouble
I would stop believing in
And depending on
Second chances
But you're wrong
And for that
I will give you a second chance

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Five Ways to Win My Heart

Dear Present Day Romeo,
If only I knew how to win my own heart, I could tell you, and then maybe I would have a slightly more rom-com love life. If only. I don't honestly think I know five ways I could win my own heart, but if I were you, here's what I would try;
5. Please hold my hand. Please kiss me when I least expect it, and hug me when I need it most. Please squeeze my shoulder when I'm having a bad day, and give me a fist bump when everything goes my way. Please touch knees with me under the table at dinner, and brush by me on your way somewhere new. Please let me know you're there, and touch me.
4. Please humor me. When I have that hunch that I forgot something, remind me that I probably did. When I ask to build that pillow fort, or want to tell ghost stories, please play along and climb in and get scared. When I want to wake up early and stay up late, when I want to go places that seem hard or tedious, when I want to be part of everything else, let me. Let me be myself, and in turn I will love all of your quirks that make you who you are.
3. Please love food. Please love waking up early or staying up late and making fabulous concoctions or simple treats. Please enjoy the sweet and savory, the rich and hearty, the light and fantastic. I want to sit down across from you and know you love eating and talking with me as much as I do, if not more. Please love cooking and eating with me. Please never leave your tastebuds lonely.
2. Please make me cry. Make me laugh so hard tears run down my face until my nostrils flare and I can't breath anymore. Please make me giggle until my face turns pink and I become hot and nervous. Please make me laugh, but let me, in return, do the same for you. Let me make you laugh.
1. Please let me know you still know me. Don't forget who I am, don't forget what I need and what I want. Don't forget what makes me original and sarcastic and fun to be around. Don't forget to let me be my own person, with or without anyone supporting me. Remind me that I am beautiful, and that you love me for who I am. Boost me when I am down, praise me when I am up, bring me down when my ego gets too high. Please tease me. But let me be my own somebody in a world of everyone elses, and in turn, I will do the same. But remember to love me. Always love me.

Do you know me now Romeo? Do you think you can win my heart? Try Romeo, and accept the challenge; I've already told you how I think it can be done, but add your own twist, and see how far I might fall.

30 Days and Sleepless Nights

And so begins the 30 Days and Sleepless Nights. This summer, I tried to write every day for thirty days, following a prompt I found on my Pinterest. However it was somewhat unreasonable for me to strive for that, as I was working six days a week from 6 am to 11 pm. Now that I'm back at school, however, I will try my best and start again.