this morning i woke up, because i died. i had one of those crazy end of the world dreams. it didn't start out that way at all. james bond and angela montenegro were in an empty hospital. it had been evacuated because there were going to be some pretty hefty storms coming around, and no one though the building would be left standing. but they were in there... angela didn't know about the storms. and bond didn't care... and then it flashed back to earlier that day when bond was flying a plane trying to escape. he was doing all of these crazy tricks in the air... and then tried to go under a bridge. and his plane exploded. then all of the sudden. peter and i were there. it was earlier in the day. and we were on a boat. someone was talking... and it started getting really windy. and there had been threats of massive storms. and i remember people were walking off the boat smiling holding hands. saying how much god loved them. and how everything was going to be alright, because things were happening just like he said they were. peter and i were just sitting there. he was listening to someone or something, i don't know. but i know that i had this little bag of paper that had things that i had said written on them. they were like, excerpts from my notebooks. and i was trying to scribble little side notes on them, because if someone later was going to find my body. i wanted them to understand what i meant. i was bawling my eyes out because peter and i had never finished talking about god, and religion. and i kept trying to pull him aside and figure it out. but something was always happening. i had this overwhelming feeling of panic. like we were wasting time trying to figure this out. we just needed to pick something. i wanted to follow all of the people who weren't freaking out. but peter was saying how, it wouldn't be right because we weren't sure if we believed the same things. and i kept trying to take him with me. but he would say things like, well the lifeguards aren't going to leave their posts are they? and i was beside myself, because i knew. that i would never leave him behind. but i knew that if we stayed we were going to die. and i remember being so afraid. because i knew that i believed in god. we were still on the boat and it started getting really stormy. and peter fell over the side. and i jumped in after him. and tried to find him, but there was just too much water. and i couldn't see anything, or feel anything. and i couldn't help just imagining him next to me, so that i wouldn't feel like i was dying by myself.

and i woke up... and i was so scared. i believe in dreams a whole heck of a lot more than i believe in those conscious "signs" and i just keep trying to think about how different people would interpret this.. and it fight's with my head. religious people would definitely say that god's trying to talk with me. and other people would say that i have just been around too many apocalyptic movies. but that's not important. how do i feel about this? i've been scared of this happening my entire life. they think that it's a good thing when they tell you all of the horrible ways you're going to die when you're a child.

i feel like. i believe in a god. i don't know what happens after death. i don't know if there's a heaven. or if i'm going to go... but i'm so scared. because i know that if these things ever happen, i'm not going to be able to hold onto anything like this. i'm going to be running around with my head cut off. and that's not how it's supposed to work. you're supposed to be able to just, hold onto that hope. and i can't.

when i was a kid, i kept praying to god to let me die before the end of the world. because i knew i wasn't strong enough to go through it.

today

was bring you child to work day. my music professor brought in his two daughters. alexandria, and valerie. 9 and 7. i felt so bad for them, being dragged around listening to lectures all day. so i drew them pictures. they seemed to like them.

mess.

i guess in a way, we've always sort of had a room dedicated to messes. whose soul purpose was to be designated, catastrophe. in the white house, it was the room across from my dad's office. i remember calling it the play room... there were bookshelves full of things that i never cared about, boxes, buried treasure. and of course, toys. lots and lots of toys. in tennessee it was every room. but mostly the walkway by our front door. no one ever used it, so it was safe to put junk there. and here... it's the porch. caleigh's play-palace.

i used the play room quite often as a child. there was this rocking horse that had great yarn hair. and i would sit on it and try to teach myself how to braid. and when i graduated to braiding doll's hair, i would still sit on it... everything there was crowded, and i loved it. i used to try and make little hide outs. this one time, we had just seen some gymnastics of some sort, and i remember clearing out a little space. and i stood up, and put my arms out, and jumped! i flung my head back while i was in the air (trying to flip) i fell down. but i tried over and over again... there was this other time, i was very focused on trying to put some poor animal in clothes or something of that sort. and i started to drool. being so little, i hadn't really been too concerned with saliva. i remember jumping up and running to the bathroom and spitting in the toilet. there was this huge feeling of relief. like, now i was out of danger. so i went back to what i was doing. and was soon struck with more spit. so i jumped up again, and ran to the toilet to spit it out. this happened a few more times, and by this point i was near in tears, and my dad came out and asked me why the toilet had been flushing so much... i remember being terrified and concerned that i was going to need to go to the hospital because of this and they were going to give me a shot. which is enough to terrify any toddler. i probably said something like, "dad, there's stuff in my mouth." and of course he probably said something like "that's natural, it's always been there"

sometimes... i want to buy "mastering the art of french cooking" because it had such an impact. but then i remember that i'm a vegetarian. and won't cook the meat recipes. which means the only things i could make are... desserts.

i think maybe i'll have to settle for "my life in france"

reunited.

today. i woke up at 7 and went to my music class. my professor talked about nothing for an hour and a half. i turned in my last assignments for that class, and came home. i got showered and dressed, and headed off towards my lit class. it went fairly well, we were discussing the importance of being earnest. which has been a fairly popular subject in virtually all of my english classes. when class was over, i walked down to the test center to take my music test. it took like 5 minutes. then i came home. made a sandwich, and dragged my mom off to the doctors with me so that i could get a prescription for my acne. we wait for a little while, and then i get called into the back room, where i see a flyer for menopause. "Menopause and you, what to expect when your body is changing" my doctor comes in, looks at my face, and tells me that i should start with a face cream first, and then move to the antibiotics if it doesn't work. i sigh, and take my mom to the pharmacy where they tell me it will take an hour to fill. AND THEN we go to the mount holly bike shop where i pick up Ingrid! turns out, i was really just paying for the man hours. but whatever. there's this firehouse cafe in mt. holly that i've really been wanting to go to and we had about 40 minutes to kill before we could pick up my prescription. so we walk in, and they don't open for another two and a half hours. so we went down to the robins nest cafe, and i had a goat cheese salad. that was actually really good. but then i got dessert. and they charged me 8 dollars for it. and i was kind of peeved. so then we went back to the pharmacy. and got my face stuff. we also had to go pick up caleigh from her after school sports stuff. and when we got home! i rode ingrid for like 2 minutes... and she's so different. it's like a completely separate bicycle. she's so smooth and cooperative now. i don't know if i can handle it. i mean, she's not grade a beef if you know what i mean, but you wouldn't be able to tell by riding her now. :)

so now, i have to go to my ceramics class. and then i'll finally be finished with my day. i'd say it went pretty well.

how to write an essay

Day One:

open microsoft word, and an MLA-how-to

and make your cover page. don't put in a title yet, because you

have no paper. go to header and footer and insert page numbers.

Day Two:

make sure you have a three hour window, and stare at your

computer screen until you can write a sufficiently intelligent

opening paragraph. make sure you haven't read any information

about your topic yet, that comes later.

Day Three:

create a closing paragraph based on what you already know of

your material, and fill in an outline of how many topics you need

to reach 1,000 words.

you need at least a 6 hour window to have all of your reference

material's out in the open. switch back and forth between writing

and distracting yourself, and fudge out the rest of the paper.

don't concentrate too hard on what you're writing, just get it out of

your head. constantly check the word count until you have just enough

to pass the minimum.

Day Four:

Don't bother proofreading, print it out and turn it in...

success.

yesterday, i learned how to open a wine bottle. and, i opened a bottle for the customer. do you know how exciting this is? i feel so accomplished. and today, they finally taught me how to make the mango lassi, so i don't have to wait for other people to make it anymore. i can just go in the back and throw things together all by my lonesome. success. someone last night told me that i am very good at what i do. today, i would like to agree with them. tomorrow i will change my mind, something will happen, and i will feel depleted. but for right now, i am a waitress. rawr.

sometimes, i can't sleep. like tonight, and last night, and the night before. it's not that i'm not tired... i am. very much so. but it's like i'm scared to be unconscious. most of the time i try and find things to keep myself awake until i'm so tired, i kind of just knock out. uncontrollably.

is this okay? i don't know...

"i would like to sample you're DNA"

as if sometime... they're going to come back for a second helping... just seemed a little silly to me.

I was at shop rite the other day. Actually, I believe it was Wednesday. Just getting a few things for my picnic date. While I was walking towards my vehicle, a woman approached me and asked me if I was interested in being a beauty consultant for Mary Kay. She gave me all of this information about it. (Apparently they get 50%) I've been thinking about it quite a bit. Honestly, it does not seem to be that bad of an idea. However, I do not wear too much make up. Part of the deal is that we sell the product by wearing it. Also, I do not feel like there are too many people who really should be buying make up. I just cannot see myself trying to sell something that I do not believe in 100%. So I said no. There is a small part of me that feels almost giddy at the thought of being considered though. I know... I'm awful.

field trip.

lol, just posted that, without writing anything. so - this is an edit. :)

last thursday, my ceramics professor was like, oh- everyone needs to come to philly for nceca. and we were like... uhm what the heck is that. NCECA, is the national ceramics education something something... conference of america? whatever. so my prof. was all, you need to come, OR ELSE! and i was like... crap. i have to go to philly? alone? with my classmates that i don't talk to? joy... so we rescheduled class for tuesday, instead of thursday... which kind of put some kinks in my slinky if you know what i mean. while i was at "class" this girl ashley was all, do you want to carpool? and i was like... yeah, if you're driving. and she was like, well, everyone's taking the train, so i figured we would just meet up with them. so. we exchanged numbers, and were off. thursday comes around, we text each other to make sure we have the same meeting place/time. we get together. at first it isn't so bad, we're chatting, it's fine. no worries. then we pick up a friend of hers, and it get's a little awkward for me, because i've only known ashley for about two hours. so we drive to where we are supposed to meet everyone else to get to the train, and as soon as we get on campus, ashley's like "oh, i feel like they left, they're not here. i think they left" and she keeps saying it over and over again -_- so we keep looking for the other people. driving to a few different places in the parking lot, and finally, we find one of their cars. so we stop, and YAY they're there. so i jump out of the car, and we climb in the back of the next carpooling car. we start going, there is now 6 of us. and i'm in the back... trying not to feel weird. we wind up getting lost, and using the iphone to get a map. we make it to the train station... my first time taking PATCO to philly, but it wasn't that bad, very self explanatory. we get to philly, high-tail it 11 blocks, to where the rest of the group is waiting for us. we only go to 4 galleries. and then we're done -_- we stopped at a place to eat after the first 3 places. and i got an a-mazing sandwich. fresh mozzarella, basil, oregano, tomatoes, on a baguette with balsamic vinegar. it was so yummy. after the last gallery we did the reverse of above... and i came home. there were a few exciting things. like the actual shows, were fairly neat. i have a few favorites. and there were lots of those postcards. i have a bunch. :) OH. and we were on the second floor of a building, trying to get on the elevator. the doors open, and this guy walks out, and then the doors start closing, and so i put my arm out, but the doors didn't stop! they just kept going! everything was in slow motion! and then when the door started squeezing my arm a little, they opened. it was so scary!!!

when i got home, i had this crazy craving for ice cream, so we went to the movies instead. :P i dragged my sister and my dad to go see How to train your dragon. and actually, it was really good! i was freaking out a little. it really tugged on my heart strings. that, or, i just have a very low stress tolerance. C:

and today! i went shopping. i have a pretty blue dress.

oh lately it's so quiet.

for part of yesterday, and so far, this morning... i've been feeling a bit more re-energized with myself, my outlook, and my need to sing loudly in my car. i'm not really sure what it is.

yesterday, we started our new system at work. which means, i get to wear an apron. yes. and it is wonderful. yes. who knew that something so small would give you such a boost like that. ah...

today, i have my pottery class, because on thursday, we're going to philly. not sure how it's going to go. but hopefully i'll get to talk with my classmates today about it.

also, read othello last night for class. ohmygoodness. so many emotions. we're discussing it today, i have no idea what to say... it was just BOOOOOOOM!

i don't know how much longer i can stand this... coming home every night without any recognition of human existence. with no compassion.

completely exhausted, and crying into my pillow because my life isn't where i want it. my relationships aren't what i want them to be. my outlook isn't where i should be.

this isn't living. this isn't existing.

i can't pretend to be alive anymore.

worries.

i was listening to talk radio the other day, which is either one of the best inventions, or the worst. there's all of this talk going on about tiger woods, and jesse james. pretty much, the story is that these married men, decided to have numerous affairs outside of their marriages. the radio host's theory was that men, are better at compartmentalizing things, than women are. so they can have their married life, where they are head over heals in love with their wife. and also, have these affairs that are -in their mind- not "affairs" but instead, encounters that are completely separate. sort of like how men are better at solving problems because they can look on things rationally, instead of putting their emotions into it, the way that women do. my first immediate reaction, was, we better not let men get a hold of this information, because then that will be the excuse for everything. oh honey, it doesn't effect my relationship with you at all, because i love you, that other thing wasn't in any way connected. it's just how i compartmentalize things sweetie. you're the one for me. (the ONE for me)

is this what our men have come to? that it's completely impossible to have a relationship without infidelity? false. because it's happened. relationships have survived without extramarital businesses. so apparently it's possible. just not for the man of today? no?

this absolutely terrifies me. like this is a warning of my future. i'm going to wake up 30 years from now, finding out that my husband has been having affairs, and i'm going to confront him. and he's going to laugh and say, but babe, it's just separate. and walk away while i'm having a mental break down.

it's not okay to give ourselves excuses to behave badly. it's not okay to say, well, i can sleep with her, because it doesn't mean anything. it's not okay to make someone trust you, and then abuse it. and what i'm worried about, is that for the past couple thousand years, all we've been doing, is finding the loopholes, and getting away with murder.

handcuffs.

i have great respect for houdini. even more so, now that i have watched the history channel special on him. apparently, after his mother died, houdini became really anti-spiritualism. (as in, calling up the dead...) he felt like the mediums were taking advantage of the individual's loss and using the tricks to completely deceive them. and of course houdini is the master trickster, so he very quickly was able to recognize and pick them apart. he had this whole campaign against the mediums, and would trap them. and expose them as frauds. which is really quite amazing. and he knew that when he died people would try to bring him back, so he made this code with his wife, and said. if you are able to do this, this is what i will say, and if i don't, you know it's fake. which i thought was -strange, definitely, but it shows some very specific planning and insight on his part. anyways. thought that was interesting....

shakespeare.

the first day of my literature class, at least the first one that i attended, my professor explained to us that we were going to have to recite a poem. after dreading the day these were due for the past month or two, it finally came. today was the day. there were four choices. of those, i picked shakespeare, and memorized it last night. today, i was thinking, wouldn't it suck to go first. because then that person would be stuck sitting in the class, listening to the 25 other people try to get as many points as they could... so i was reciting this in my head, the whole morning. finally got to class. sat down. and my professor was lecturing us for about 20 minutes (which is just the perfect amount of time for one to stress out in anticipation of future embarrassment) then he slowly walked to the back of the room, "and the first person is.... Carly" really? gah! and BOOOM! I started freaking out. and i walked up there, and it took me a while to remember my first word. and then it took me a while to remember my second line. and then it the third, and fourth... i stumbled through the whole thing. i didn't mess up, i was just slow. so i ended up getting full credit. but it was a rough ride. and then... right when i sat down, the whole sonnet went right through my head no problem. no errors. face palm. yarg. and i had to listen to everyone else. say their poem. :/ sigh. oh well. it's over, i'm done. and now...... yay nap.

saturday night fever.

uhm. okay.

just watched -kind of- (i read the summary) and saw some parts of the beginning and middle. and honestly. i'm not that impressed. i don't get what all of the hubbub is about. it wasn't a very good movie.

oh my goodness.

kitchen nightmares.

so much drama

so much -i can't take my eyes off this-

really?

i have, a dentist phobia. he has "fixed" this tooth, two times

before, and yet still, there is a problem? when you fix it, it's

not supposed to be broken. that's how that works... but it's

not okay for me to say that maybe he's not doing it right?

no? it's not okay for me to say that maybe he missed

something? that's not okay?

get off your effing high horse.

Who does your dishes when you wake up in the morning. You’re too busy to rinse out your mess. Or when you get home and are too tired to notice the pile. You say you’re working on important things. You’re inspired. Sometimes you’re tired… other times you just don’t want to get your hands dirty. Who will do your dishes when you’re out of town. Or when aunts come to visit and eat lasagna on your porcelain… or after that late night stress binge. Or all of those containers you used when you had the urge for pancakes?

ah. spring.

this is the time of flip-flops and short skirts, light jackets, and picnics. also, after sporadically shaving my legs over winter, we are back to the once a week routine. bleh. so in order to take advantage of this lovely ritual. i am planning on wearing a skirt tomorrow. but then the weather was all -i'mma electrocute your hopes and dreams- and i was all, oh no she diniinnt.

my morning, was really gross today. i woke up tired, and went to my class. where i forgot to do the reading assignment, and was freaking out that i would have to fail my quiz. but, luckily, my professor just decided to yell at us the whole time. and get angry because we do not measure up to his standards. see, i would normally, just shrug this off, and accept that he is really looking out for our best interests. but... okay starting from the beginning. i go into the class, and he hands out our multiple choice part of the exam. and then proceeds to go over every question, and comment. i am very annoyed. then he gives us our essay final. that has our extra credit question in it. while we were taking our multiple choice exam, he gave us this sheet for extra credit, and called us all up to the front to answer the questions about an object. the object was an indulgence. and we were supposed to answer questions like, what is it, when was it given and why, did he have to pay for it blah blah blah. and apparently there were only two people who got all 5 questions right. i got 4 because i didn't bother to answer the what is its purpose question because it didn't specify if it was talking about past or present... but my professor started yelling at us about how we weren't very good students if we couldn't take the 5 easy points that he was giving us. and then he started yelling at us about our essays. the previous class, he gave us the five possible essay questions. he told us that there would be three on the test, and we would have to pick one. so today, he got angry that people chose the easy question -myself included. telling us how you never want to answer the easy question, you want to answer the hard question. and then decided that it would be a good idea to insult our opinions of school. that this wasn't high school, and that we needed to step up to the plate, and have standards. we need to accept responsibility for our academics. and then went on the if you want to get good grades, you need to do this this this, and this. if you want to pass this class, you need to read the book. you need to study lecture. which is all fine and good. the first 30 times he gave it to us... i understand that people learn by repetition, but really? do you just forget that you tell us these things? i've heard all of his lectures at least 5 times. he just kept going on and on and on, and getting louder and louder, and way more offensive. and then this quiet girl tried to ask him a question, she tried to confront him, because he basically was calling all of us ignorant. she told him that she felt like he was attacking her personally because she answered the easy question, and she got a c. and he basically ripped her head off, screaming and yelling all the more. i was really upset... he kept telling us how this was college, not 13th grade. really? this is bcc. this is where you go, when you don't have enough money to go anywhere else, this is a stepping stone... not the real deal. this isn't 13th grade? no? then why do you keep holding my hand? why do you keep telling me the same information over and over again? why do you give me EXTRA CREDIT? why did you give me the essay question before my test? hmm? because if you really wanted to make sure that i was learning, wouldn't you restrict the amount of help that you're giving me? honestly, all i'm doing is regurgitating the information that you force feed me, and i'm passing your class right? why do i need to try? why should i try if you're handing me my grade? if your standards are SO HIGH why are you working at a community college? are we burdening you by paying to take your class? hmm? this is comparative religion! this is a class you take to get more credits! i seriously doubt that if someone goes into an interview and they're checking the classes, they're going to be like, "oh no, i'm sorry... we can't hire you, because you didn't take comparative religion. sorry.... you fail at life"

i answered the easy question, i got a c. i'm not really too ripped up about it. i know full and well what kind of student i am, where i stand with my grades. i don't really have the motivation to do anything else. and i'm sorry if that's difficult to understand. do i deserve to be yelled at? no. did i deserve a c? no. i may not be the best writer, but i answered the question, all parts of it. he took off a whole letter because i didn't elaborate on one specific sentence. i can understand a few points. but a whole letter? he took off another letter because i had the word "undetermined" in place of a phrase he thought was more expressive. and a point or two for various other unspecified reasons. tell me that's fair.

do you know what really grinds my gears? my professors will start talking, and they'll say one of those phrases with the curse word in there. like "what the hell?" or "oh shit" or you know... whatever. but instead of being honest about cursing in the classroom, they whisper it. because somehow that makes it waaay less obvious.

milestone.

last night, i had a conversation with my father, that wasn't terrible. it should be noted. this is the first time, in a long time that we have actually talked. he didn't yell at me. or belittle me. or anything like that. it was an actual conversation. and he only monopolized it a little bit. but i actually felt like he was a person.

in other news. i think i may have found my calling.

in other other news. i completely broke down at work today... i didn't get to bed last night until around 2. and i woke up at 7, so i was feeling pretty tired to begin with. the whole shift, i was sluggish, and trying not to interact with the people more than i needed to. i didn't want to look angry or upset, and have them get the wrong impression. but, i was walking around, and i just got this huge overwhelming feeling of emptiness. of this terrible feeling of loneliness and abandonment. i couldn't handle it. i had to take a few minutes to collect myself. and then peter called, and it all came out. it was a 2 second conversation. but i couldn't stop. and then. it was gone. just like that. and i'm fine. not exactly the most sociable person at the moment. but, i think i'll be okay.

it's here

it's here, and i've been waiting for the past 3 weeks. it would have been here yesterday but no one was here to answer the door. i've been up for the past 3 hours. and i'm panicking. because i just want it. it's so silly. soon. it will be here.

my sister's birthday was on tuesday. we had to celebrate on monday night because mom and i were both working tuesday. birthday's aren't really a big deal in my family. if we don't forget. we don't really bother to remember. my mom does this thing where she'll offer to cook a meal, whatever you want to eat. and a cake. (sometimes it's just the cake) but then she'll complain about how much you're making her do. and if you don't say how much you love it, if you don't tell her how good it is, she'll whine. and she'll be sluggish when it comes to the next thing that you ask her to do. (she's really good at making you feel guilty) my sister has four birds. she's had them since she was in kindergarten. they were especially for her. because my brother and i had the cats. monday morning when she woke up, one of them was dead. so of course the whole day was trash. that night, we had her dinner. and my dad was late. because he had forgotten to get her presents. so he went out to get her two barbies. except he didn't tell anyone that he was going to be late. so we had the dinner ready for 5:30, when he gets home. he didn't get home until 7:20. we were just waiting around for him. and when he got there, he was in one of these really abrasive moods. pushing everything in everyone's faces. before we cut the cake, he had a phone call. he left and talked on the phone while we were about to cut her birthday cake. he missed it.

There's this place near where i work, and it's called Artrageous Creations. it's a studio where you go, and buy one of the ceramic pieces they have available, and you paint it. their studio is yellow and covered in flowers, and all of these plates and cups and statues. there are just so many different things. it's adorable. yesterday, i wrote my sister a note, and told her that i had a surprise for her. i picked her up early from school, and drove her down. i kept telling her there was a surprise, and i wasn't going to tell her. when we finally got there, she got to look at all of the things, and i told her she could pick whatever she wanted. anything. she picked this cute winged fairy sitting on a stone. (i picked a holey sushi bowl. it's the one with the hole for the chopsticks. it's adorable) and we got to go over to the paint station, and pick as many different colors as we wanted. she got reds and browns. there were these paints, that had these specks in them, and when they fire it, they kind of explode, so you end up with this beautiful rich color with these speckles... i got a deep reddish maroon color, and a powder blue. and then a dark blue for my elephant. and we sat down. and got to paint. it was so much fun. we were just sitting at this adorable table. talking and painting these pieces. after we left, i told her we could go wherever she wanted to eat. (i wanted to take her to one of those cute sit down places. nothing fancy, but just have the two of us sit down, and order off the menu.) but she was telling me that she doesn't like to eat at sit down restaurants because then everyone can see her eating, and it makes her feel gross. so we went to mcdonalds. through the drive through. she got a happy meal. and we both got shamrock shakes. (my first time ever having one. they're amazing)

and we came home....

she seemed really excited. i really wanted to make it up to her. she's 10. how awful would it be if she looked back on this as the shitty birthday.

we pick up our pieces next wednesday. we're both freaking out :)

que?

whenever people ask me who i am. my first instinct is to say, "carly". that is who i am. but that isn't really what they mean. right? they want to know what i am. that's harder to answer...

trained

i was taught to think of sex, as something dirty. as a sin. as something that, if i ever did, or if i ever wanted to do, god would strike me down. dead. one of the things that we don't realize as we get older, is how literally we used to take things when we were younger. for a time, we don't know how to reason, or now to question. we know that what mommy says is right, is right. and what she says is wrong, is wrong. and that is our whole world.

my parents used to refer to sex as "special loving" they used this phrase because one day our guinea pigs started to get a little frisky, and my brother and i of course had to ask. to their credit, we were young, and they probably thought it was a little too early to explain things to us. (although that kind of thinking never stopped them from explaining anything else to me. but, whatever.) i have come to hate this terminology. and i really wish that they hadn't used it to symbolize sex. because love is supposed to be a pretty great thing in and of itself. your parents are supposed to love you, and that is always supposed to fix everything. when a child has no knowledge of sex, and you throw this foreign term at them, they don't think about sex, they think you're telling them that you love mommy or daddy more than you love them.

i was used to feeling like my mother loved other things more than me. you spend your time focusing on what you love. i don't remember my mother ever playing with me. she would send me to my room, or ignore me while i played in the living room. mommy why are you watching those soaps. mommy why are you watching football. mommy why are you going to work. and yet i idolized her. i would go to her closet and wear her shoes, and try to walk down the stairs to show her. i always fell.

i have a fairly strong moral compass. now. i didn't always. when i was younger, i used to get in trouble a lot. because i didn't understand why things were "wrong" or why i wasn't "supposed" to do this, or that. things didn't stick for me. when we moved to tennessee my dad started getting more and more stressed out. i think i've told this story before, but no matter. my parents didn't think it was necessary to tell me a specific age that i would be allowed to have a boyfriend, or that i could date, or start to like boys. they never said anything like that. and so, at the ripe age of 9, when i decided that i was ready to have my first kiss, i didn't think anything of it. but when they found out, all of the sudden, i was supposed to have magically known that was unacceptable. my dad was so angry. he sat me down in my room. (i started escaping to my room when i got to stressed out, so it doesn't surprise me that he would violate my sanctuary, and just be stationary in a place that was safe for me. so i couldn't escape, and i had to talk to him. and even when he left, i would feel like my room was against me. maybe he didn't do it on purpose, but it felt like it) he yelled at me about his mother, and about all of these other women who had gotten pregnant, and who were all over the place with their man-lovers. my dad doesn't really yell, but he gets really loud. and he was just getting louder and louder, making sure that i knew it was wrong. it was wrong wrong wrong.

if you keep going like this, by the time you're 13, you're going to be a slut. you're going to be all over the place with so many different boys, and no one is going to want you. and there's a chance you could get pregnant. and if you get pregnant, there is no way you are allowed to come and live, in my house. if you think you're old enough to have sex, i think you're old enough to think about finding a new place to live.

no one is going to want you. i am not going to want you. god won't want you. i was 9. all they had to do, was tell me they didn't want me to kiss anyone. set an age limit. you're not allowed to date until you're 17. or something like that. but it was like, i found this box by accident one day, and when i decided to open it, it exploded.

i thought this was normal. and everyone knew that you weren't supposed to have sex. when i would find out that people i knew had started, it would completely change my opinion of them. i was disgusted with young married couples who were pregnant. because in order to get pregnant. you need to have sex. and sex isn't okay even if you're married.

this was how i thought. all the time. even up until my senior year. i hated talking about sex with pastor dave in leadership bible, because he's a pastor. pastors aren't allowed to talk about sex. and i kept getting so angry with myself, because i couldn't understand why i hated it this much. why i was so uncomfortable with this concept. there's nothing wrong with it. and when i started becoming aware of why i was like this, why i was this person, i was so disgusted with myself. so angry, and ashamed.

it's been a year, and i still haven't completely gotten over it. it's kind of an interesting thing to have to re-learn. sex is not synonymous with sin.

melt my heart to stone

"and i hear your words that i made up, you say my name like there could be an us. i best tidy up my head i'm the only one, in love. i'm the only one in love." (melt my heart to stone by adele, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1eT4jCoWI4A this part starts at 0:56.)

i can't remember the actual month that we went, but around the end of my senior year we took a trip to the art museums in DC. there were so many things that struck me at the time, like how much the louise bourgeois exhibit impacted me. that was where i got my first taste of dubuffet and fell head over heels. even before i saw the sculptures. there was also this one piece that i found really quite fascinating. but i forgot to get the name of the artist. the other day, i found a picture of a piece that i was 100% sure was his. his name is Ron Mueck. and he makes these sculptures of people. they're huge, but perfectly proportioned, and they're rather magnificent. not just because they look real, but because they are real. he pays so much attention to detail. not only in features and textures... but the actual surface looks like skin. he must have put so many layers on them. there are all of these veins and pores, the skin isn't just a solid color. there are gradations in value. and it's kind of unbelievable that he would be able to master it. it kind of just makes me wonder what happened to him, to make him work on things so meticulously, so passionately.

i guess that's really all i have for tonight.

cleaning bug

i keep trying to clean my room. but everything is already clean. there isn't anything left to rearrange, or put back in it's place... or hang up, or put in the hamper, or pack. or dust. i've done everything already. i kind of want to mess something up so i can fix it. literally, not figuratively. so i guess really, all i need to do is brush my teeth and go to bed... but

gah. i want to clean.

smidgen.

sometimes i forget how to do things. like how to hold a piece of paper with my left hand. or how to put my foot on the brake peddle. or how to drink something. or how to blink.

and don't laugh okay? because it's true. it happens to me all the time. like an epidemic. and when it does i have to concentrate really hard on how to remember. but for a few seconds i'm going really slow. sometimes it helps to try with the opposite side. like picking up something with my right hand and then mimicking with my left.

i dropped a glass today. and i dropped one last night. last night i was really upset with a few of my co-workers, because i didn't feel like they were doing their job. raman and i were running around doing everything and the other one's just kind of stood around and twiddled their thumbs. so i was in the back trying to dry the ice cream bowls. and i was fuming. i was really upset, because it was busy. and time was taking forever to pass, and i kept feeling like they were belittling me. and i just, i guess i didn't understand. and i was getting stuck in this awful train of thought and it just slipped out of my hand. and i freaked out. i jumped, and i covered my face, and i just stood there. i was so ashamed. and then i remembered how to move, and i went to go get the broom but my boss was like, no let someone else do it, because it will go through your shoes. i kept trying to do something because there was so much, and no one was doing anything, and i was freaking out, there were so many times when i was seconds away from breaking down.

but i don't know why i broke one today... it just fell out of my hands, and i kept trying to catch it. but it was going in slow motion, and i was moving too fast. and then it just hit. and it broke. but i cleaned it up, and i moved on.

recently

i've been around all of these strangers. all of these unfamiliar faces. and i can't help but think of them in some of their most intimate moments. i'm not really sure why... just the dumbest stuff. like meeting the love of their life, or learning that their grandfather has cancer, or finding out that their child has a disease. or going to the bathroom, or making dinner for their significant other on valentines day. even having sex.... and i try to shake these thoughts out of my head, but they just pop in, uninvited... and i have to get myself to think of other things. and every time, i feel like i'm stealing a piece of their life that i was never meant to see.

there are many things about the jewish faith that i find interesting

especially the idea that when people die, they are okay with saying

"i don't know what's happening to them, but i'll find out one day"

there isn't this urgency to figure out if their loved one is in heaven

or hell, or if they're just sleeping, or what have you.

which is something that i find extremely contrasting with the

adventist point of view - which is the one that i have had the most

experience around.

there seems to be this trend going on, in the sda circles, or this

need, to know everything. we know how to explain this verse to you

or we know what this means, or we can tell you if this person is the

spawn of satan, or we can tell you if your great grandfather's cousin who

immigrated from austria, is going to be in heaven based on a half true

account of his life, and the paper he signed when he got off the boat

we can tell you this. because we know.

i grew up in a house with people who were smarter than me. my

dad still believes he has the key to the universe. my brother refuses

to accept any opinion but his own, my sister only sees in black and

white, and my mother is too tired to say much of anything. there have

been so many pointless arguments between us, just because

we haven't figured out how to say, "you're right" or, "i can see where

you're coming from" i used to get so frustrated with them, until

i realized that i started doing the same thing. who am i to judge?

i stopped asking my dad questions when i realized that he would

just make me feel dumb. people stopped asking me questions when

they realized that i would try to make them feel dumb. i'm trying to

learn. honestly... but can i blame them for this part of myself?

there was this attitude that WE are perfect, and everyone else

just doesn't realize it yet.

there was the same attitude towards the church. my dad has not

had too much luck with teaching. because he likes to ruffle feathers

he likes to make sure the people know how smart he is. so when

he starts belittling the people in higher positions, they get angry.

and we end up moving. we moved when i was 7, because he would

have gotten fired if we stayed. we moved when i was 8 because he

couldn't even last a year in a different school. we moved when i was

11 because he decided that he wanted to pick on his boss's son.

he got fired when i was 13 because he had to make the pastor angry in

march (the pastor was planning on leaving in august). he didn't get tenure

when i was 16. and then he stopped teaching. i never once heard him say

"this is my fault" no. it was always the churches fault. how is that

supposed to affect the children? i went to sabbath school with the

idea that my friends were out to get me. i think, that if there was something

like this, with a pattern... at some point you're going to need to say,

i'm wrong. this isn't my calling.

my family will pick on my sister, because she's young, she's arrogant,

and because she doesn't know how to ask them to stop without being

in their faces (which of course eggs them on, especially my brother)

at first it's all fun and games, but then she starts taking it seriously

and when it's all said and done, she ends up crying her eyes out,

and locking herself in her room. i remember doing the same thing.

she's going to look back on this when she gets older, and say that

the family tortured her. and they're going to look right back at her

and say it's her fault.

i reject people who say they have answers. i reject religions that

say they can solve my questions, my problems. that they can

turn my life around. i reject people who seem to think that i need

their input in places i didn't ask them to look. i reject arrogance.

sometimes, it's not about the answer. i want the freedom to

have my question. i want to know that there are some things that

just can't be answered. i want to believe in something that

i don't quite understand. i refuse to accept that life is some giant math

problem, and i just need the right formula.

:{D

i've been trying to get nathanael to grow a mustache ever since i can remember. and so this is a letter i wrote to him. that he can fold over, and put right under his nose :{D hahahaha. i'm so excited!

and the madness begins

this weekend is valentines day weekend. and for restaurants, this this the busiest weekend of the year. i knew that i was destined to work on sunday. and my boss asked me to work tomorrow night too. and since we had a snow day on wednesday, and since i'm not coming in next sun. mon. tues. i figured i could really use the extra cash. sigh... so tomorrow, instead of staying in my pajama's all day, i get to run around making sure that every couple has the best darn night of their lives. but it's all good. i'm actually kind of excited about it. today there was this cute couple. i'd say they were pushing 80. they were so pleasant . and i don't even care that they only left a one dollar tip. because they were adorable. and it was my honor to serve them. i'm kind of thinking this is how the whole weekend is going to go...

tonight, i am just sad... that is all.

last night i was driving home from work. it was snowing. all day i had been listening to the weather reports saying that it was going to be a "snowpocolips" i was working the dinner shift. around 7 it started to fall. i was getting nervous because i had to drive home by myself. i couldn't understand why people kept coming in. all of the reports were warning people to stay home, to try and avoid as much of it as they could. but they kept coming in. ordering take-out. wanting to stay for hours drinking wine and pretending that there wasn't anything going on outside at all. our last pair of customers left at 9:40. i hobbled outside and brushed the snow off of my car... i started going home, scared because this was only the second time that i had driven in snow. it kept falling... i was going 35 and then all of the sudden i hit ice. my car started swerving so i stopped giving it gas, and i was trying to get control of it again, but it just kept going faster and faster, and there were cars next to me, i wanted to tell them to watch out. that they were going to get hit but i couldn't say anything. i couldn't even breathe. i was trying so hard, but i couldn't find my air. i was frozen, just babbling and breathing. but it wasn't working. i felt like i was suffocating, watching my car swerve and turn around in the wrong direction, sliding towards the median. i kept waiting for it to hit. to feel myself react from impact. but i couldn't feel anything. i had been on the phone with steevo, but i hung up, and started bawling my eyes out. these huge sobs that just kept coming. i kept crying and trying to breathe, and wiping the tears out of my eyes so that i could wiggle my car back in the right direction. it couldn't have been more than few minutes, but it felt like years. i was just pouring out my soul, hearing it everywhere, this unabashed panic breaking out of my chest.

i hate walking through my house at night. because everyone is asleep. i hate knowing that i'm the only one awake. maybe because i watched too many horror movies or something back in the day. but it's like i can feel the eyes on the back of my neck. or i can see faces in the shadows or behind me in the mirrors. it kind of sucks too, because some days i get this urge at like 2 in the morning to clean. and i clean and clean and clean and clean until my room is spotless. and everything is in its place. and my drawers are all closed. and the laundry is set out for me to do in the morning. and all of my books are where they should be. and everything is just set right where it's supposed to be. it makes me feel better before i go to sleep. but when i clean, i have trash. or something to take to the kitchen. or something that belongs in the bathroom mirror. and i need to venture out. but i hate going. because it doesn't feel right. and i feel scared. and cold. and... all by myself. and sometimes, i just can't handle that.

one of those girls

every boy wants a holly golightly. or and edie sedgewick. or a franny. every boy want's the kind of girl with the oscar wilde sense of humor. the girl who says things that sound silly, but you know they mean more than the words. the type of girl they can't quite figure out. the one who refuses to tell you her secrets, but when she does, he know's he'll never forget. not in a million years. the type of girl who's unmistakably beautiful, graceful, tiny. the type of girl who's bold. who will fall asleep on his shoulder with very little clothing, trusting that he won't take advantage. the type of girl who will take risks. the kind of girl who will never be ordinary.

every girl wants to be a holly golightly. or an edie sedgewick. or a franny. but we're not.

i would be the kind of girl to wear mens shirts and leggings if i had the body for it. i wouldn't wear make up if i had the face to go without it. i wouldn't wear eyeliner if i didn't have my fathers eyes. i wouldn't want to lose weight if i had a regular looking body.

my body is a cage. (and every time i listen to that song, i tear up) the person i want to be, is stuck inside my head. and i can't let them out, because the inside and the outside don't match. and no, you can't just do it anyway. because as much as you say the insides are more important, you have to get to know the insides. you can't just see them when you walk up.

i will never be tiny. that's what i've wanted my whole life. i've wanted to be small. someone that you could carry around in your pocket. big is not beautiful.

this is not okay

i guess i should thank you. for taking it upon yourselves to be my personal messenger. i guess now it saves me the trouble of telling everyone myself. except you never checked with me. you never asked if it was okay. you just decided to go and display this to the rest of the world. like a messenger pigeon that delivers the top secret folder to the enemy. don't you think if i had wanted you to know, i would tell you? if i was ready to talk about it, i would? it's a funny feeling now, to know that people are talking about this. they're analyzing me. but you know the real kicker? now it's not happening. mhmm. do you know who has to deal with the backlash? not you, me. "oh, well i wasn't sure if it was true or not" no? you didn't? really? you just thought it was okay to tell people whatever then.... is that right? yeah no. now i'm the one going around doing damage control while you're sitting there having a grand old time talking about how this was just a stunt. or something dumb like that. the next time you feel like talking, why don't you do everyone a favor and shut your face. sooner or later it's going to be you, and you're going to have no one to blame but yourself.

throw-back

i was just looking through the old files.... i found some of you too.

sometimes, when i'm upset, i go driving. which is dangerous, because i'm usually listening to music that makes me cry. or that alters my mood... and i can't help but think about crashing. just turning my wheels a little to the right to hit the telephone poles.

there are so many things they never told me about god. or things that i never thought to ask about. they say that when you die, you're asleep... so can i still dream? what about those people who have those experiences where they're dead for a few seconds... or minutes. but then they are revived. or resurrected.

what's going to happen to my soul when i die? sometimes i feel like people aren't just given a soul, they have to earn it. i need to prove that i've done something with my time here. maybe that's why some people get to die twice. because you're not allowed to die until you've gotten your soul. sometimes i try to let my body act by itself. i try not to tell it what to do, so that it will have practice when i'm no longer in it.

god is the wind. why do you believe in something that you can't see? why do i believe in the wind?

why do i believe in souls? because i believe in the wind.

i can't help what i am, even more than you can help what you are.

sometimes i just want to take everything i love, put it all together in a pile in my room. and rip it all to pieces. shred every last part of it. and set it on fire. just get rid of it....

if i don't belong here, it doesn't either

my french whore

not as good of a book as i had originally thought. i still stick to my gene wilder fan-ness. but, he's not a very good writer. the whole book was missing major literary elements. like description. and transitions. i felt like i was reading a play. but without all of the stage cues. it was one of those things that could have been something amazing, but ended up just falling flat. tonight i'm just disappointed.

synonyms.

i bought music the other day... i know that i should be saving my money for "trip" but, you know how sometimes you just get sick of the tunes in your head. you can only listen to songs so many times... and i had a little extra cash from my last paycheck. and i ended up getting like 36 songs... :) i got a little more peggy sue. and i've been wanting to get ADELE for a while... i just love love love her voice. and i found this artist pomplamoose. they do a really amazing cover of single ladies. so, all this week, i've been listening to them. so far. there are a few tunes i absolutely adore. from pomplamoose, they have this song expiration date, and the part that goes "i'd like to get over, i'd like to get over you, ooo ooo oOo Ooo" gets stuck in my head all the time. i haven't really listened to peggy sue yet. and from adele, i really like chasing pavements. and then cold shoulder. the chorus for that one is like "when you grace me with your cold shoulder, whenever you look at me i wish i was her, you shower me with words made of knives, whenever you look at me i wish i was her" honestly, i sing it all the time when i'm driving to work.

my classes started. i'm working 5 days a week (i got my first 5-day paycheck... i am okay with these new pay arrangements :) so far things have been going okay. first class: comparative religion. my professor is really in-depth. today was the third class, and we're still going over introductory things. and usually that would bother me, but it's really interesting, and it's one of those things that you can tell, when it gets to more complicated things, he's really going to take the time to explain everything so that there is no confusion. it's kind of strange though too, because he asks questions that i have no idea how to answer, and when he calls on people, they automatically know the answer. i feel like i'm coming from a completely different perspective. but, i think it's going to be good. as long as he doesn't call on me. i just have to try really hard not to make eye contact ;) second class: introduction to music. meh. i'm not too impressed. my professor is really arrogant. but i can't get out of it. and so far, nothing weird has happened. he's said a few things that i disagree with. and i think, maybe sometime we'll end up arguing. but, maybe not... i don't really feel like being made into an example. third class: english composition II. my professor is really quiet. and surprisingly i only have 2 essays to write the whole semester. which is very... easy. and i have a recitation, and quizzes and stuff, which is pretty normal. but the story and poem line up for the semester, is very exciting. fourth class: ceramics. definitely going to be awesome. yesterday was the first class. we have three projects, maybe a fourth depending on how soon we finish. and yesterday we made four pinch pots, and four coil pots. it took me 2 hours and 20 minutes. it's a four hour class, but i was really surprised by how quickly the time flew by. i'm sitting at a table with two older women, and they knew each other. they were cracking jokes the whole time. :) it was hilarious. all in all. the semester is looking really bright for me. and then summer....... it's going to be a good year.

my dad's birthday is on sunday. i was going to take him down to the restaurant, but i'm working. he said he wanted to have a family dinner. so we're going on wednesday. it's weird though, because i've never eaten there... and i don't know if it's going to be weird or not. i don't know if my boss is going to be like, oh you're free during wed. dinner? how come you aren't working? i don't know if i'm going to be stressing out that we're just taking up space... so i don't know... i'm definitely going to give them warning.

the virgin suicides.

last night, i watched the virgin suicides... and i'm not really sure how i'm reacting yet. the whole story is about these five sisters. the youngest one kills herself by jumping from the second story onto a neighbors sharp pointy fence. then the other four sisters are struggling socially, all except one who ends up getting in trouble and pushes the parents to isolate the girls in their home. they all kill themselves on the anniversary of their sister's death. hanging. gas oven. pills. carbon monoxide poisoning. i kept thinking what i would do if all of my children killed themselves. what would i have to live for? what could i tell myself to make it better? this played in my head over and over and over again...

'olhiobniuhg

last night i didn't end up getting to bed until around 2:30. then i woke up at 7. i hopped in the shower, and then got shampoo in my eye. it burned so bad... tried to get ready, couldn't fix my hair. galloped off to class. my professor is not the coolest. he stood up front for about an hour and a half and lectured us on how stupid we were. my next class, professor was the awesome-est but i don't want to take his class. i don't want to do music anymore... does this make me too fickle? so i decided.. hmm. why am i taking music classes if i've decided that this isn't going to work for me? why don't i try to drop out. but my mom wants me to be full time, so i needed two more classes. i was going to switch to culinary and art, but i needed some prerequisites that weren't available, so i went home, figured out i was going to take english comp II and intro to children's literature. i drove back to the college, only to find out that the classes were full. so i had to come back home. except the website that they gave me to check which classes weren't filled up wasn't working. so i tried to call the stupid college but everyone was busy. so i had to pick out some classes i thought would work, and then drive back over. i talked with one of the desk people. he told me which classes on my list were still open. and they fit with my schedule. so i filled out ANOTHER add drop form. and gave it to the admission guy. he was like, oh you can't take this one, because you need eng. II. so i ended up only being able to drop one class. and now i have literature... but i went down to the bookstore, to exchange them. and they make you leave your bag at the door. which i can understand, but is kind of annoying because then i had to take all of my stuff out of my bag and carry it with me. i exchanged books. only got three dollars back. and now i'm at home. and i have to go to work at 4. and it's probably either going to be really stressful or really slow... and i'm not prepared for either.. :/

i really enjoy this.

this is feathers of angels. drawn by derek hess. recently, i've really taken to his artwork... it almost feels like it isn't finished, with the sketchiness of the lines. but because it's so raw, it's almost as if it's being ripped out of me. i myself am incomplete, this is my other half.

m.l.k.d.

today, is a good day. or at least, it has been so far. i didn't have class this morning, so i got to sleep in an extra hour. work went pretty well... only a few mishaps.
there was this family of four that came in. two little girls. and one was really sad looking, and the other was really happy. after they had finished eating, the sad one came over and asked us if she could have a piece of paper, so we gave her a sheet of the book where we take orders... and then she came over and asked if we had a pen she could use. so we gave her one. and she scribbled for a while, and asked if she could have another sheet. so i gave her two, and was like, oh are you going to draw a picture? she said yes, so i asked her if she would draw me one, and sign it. so she drew it, and then came over to me, and was like, do you have any crayons? i said no, then she asked if we had any blue pens, so i gave her one. then she asked if we had any other colored pens. so i took her to the closet where we keep our coats, and gave her my orange, purple, and light blue pens. while we were over there, she asked me if i drew anything so i showed her my book and drew her an elephant and a cat. then she went back to her table, and colored in the drawings for me :) they had to go, but it was so cute :) so now, i have three original pictures by Eden.

after work today i went to borders. i got paid last night... whenever i go into borders i check the elie wiesel section to see if they have Night. when i bought Dawn and Day, they didn't have it... so i check so i can have a complete set... and today they did! but only one. so i grabbed it, and i got Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger, steevo reccommended it to me. and i got My French Whore by Gene Wilder... i would have gotten The Woman in Red, but they didn't have it in. so... maybe next time.

hanky panky

i've been a really big gene wilder, and gilda radner fan for quite some time. not only because they're hilarious, but because it seemed like they had one of those fairy tale loves... anyway... i didn't know that they had made a movie together. it's called hanky panky. the plot line was a little ridiculous, but i wanted to see how they had worked together.
let's just say it's fabulous.
for practically the entire movie, they scream at each other. and you can hardly tell if they're about to laugh, or if they're really serious. there's this scene where they're in an airplane, and the pilot dies, so they start yelling at eachother about how he's not really dead...

it was fun.

show.

today. i went to sleep at like 4:24.... i was by myself for the whole day, and after a delicious meal of macaroni and cheese, i felt like throwing up... so i was laying on the couch just cold and miserable, when i started to go to sleep... i was weighing the pros and cons of going to bed... and then i just did. i went to my room threw all my stuff on the floor, turned out my light, and huddled under the covers. and i just woke up at 7:45. i set my alarm for 5:30, but i was so happy... i kept resetting it for half hour intervals. but... it was glorious. :) and now, i feel rested, and just... happy. also, my brother woke me up to show me this art competition for anyone under 20. pretty much, he can't do it anymore, so he wants me to, but i'm really excited about it. there are four different categories. ahem: 1. draw your greatest fear 2. illustrate an existing song 3. draw a portrait 4. give an illustration with the following elements: a human face, a light bulb, an animal, a computer and a sense of isolation.
if i did anything, it would definitely be either 3 or 4. my brother and i were bouncing ideas off of each other for 4. he's really excited about it. i am too. i think i'm going to do it. either way, there will be a hobo involved. i just can't decide if i want to do a whole scene, or just the face. they say it can be any medium. so we'll see what happens.

i'm mad at you

yeah. do you remember when we used to be friends?
because i do.
but now it feels like you're ignoring me
and even if i started a conversation
you would have noncommittal things to say
but whatever... i can take a hint
is it even worth it for me to tell you this?
to have the last word?
no. because it will turn into something huge and
roundabout like all of the others...

you're so vain.
you probably think this message
is about you

don't you don't you.

i was feeling okay... but now i just feel sad. i don't know. maybe it's because i haven't talked with you in forever. or because i thought everything was going to be okay, but isn't. or because i feel like you're ignoring me. (separate people)

i feel kind of empty right now. like i'm never going to amount to anything. are you bored yet? tired of hearing me say the same things? just because i've said them before. doesn't mean they've magically gone away. i'm still hurting.

brothers.

usually i get to work a few minutes early... we're supposed to start at 10. i get there around 9:50, and everyone else gets there at 10:10. and since it's cold outside, what i do... is sit in my car, until they open the doors. today, was like any other day. i was just sitting there, in a fairly empty parking lot, and this old man comes and parks next to me. he gets out and starts walking towards the steak place, and he was just so adorable. he had this really worn tan fedora. WITH a feather... he was wearing a jacket, it was brown. he had on green pants. and brown leather shoes. i kept thinking about how maybe he was really hip in his day... and had all of the ladies swooning over his suave ways. i suppose it was more of a madmen spin-off... either way, i ripped out a page of my moleskine notebook, and wrote him a note. not anything creepy i promise. just a little message to thank him for being so cool. :)

things were pretty slow today, but one of the first customers that came in, an indian couple, brought their son in with them. he had the best craziest hair! it was curly, and completely disheveled. he had these HUGE adorable brown eyes with the tiniest little puffy mouth. he kept looking at me so, i made faces at him. sometimes when the kids are too little to use the glass cups, we give them little plastic cups with a lid and a straw so they can feel special too, so i brought him one. and he immediately took the straw out and started chomping on it. and then used his chubby little fingers to flip the cup upside down and bang it on the table :)
when they were ready to leave, his dad picked him up out of the high chair, and this little boy started kicking his legs like he was ready to start running as soon as he hit the ground...

daydreams

sometimes, while i'm at work, or right before i go to sleep. i think about crocheting. it's the weirdest thing.... i'll crochet rows in my mind... on the weirdest projects... i don't know if i should be concerned... or just enjoy it. but it's so strange.

my curse

i made a plan. and i was happy... and excited... but the problem comes, when i start letting other
people know, what i'm doing. what i'm planning on achieving.
because then, i feel pressure
and i start to resent it
and i change my mind.

so the obvious solution would be to just skip it
to not let people know what i'm doing, and
keep it to myself.

but i can't help it.
i want input.
i want to connect with people.
and i want to share.

for once

he was nice to me (scary guy at work)
he was actually joking around with me today, asked me what
i was studying in college
offered to let me do live music... :)

today was pretty easy...
and pretty hard.

the one thing that i don't understand, is that
i ask questions at work... and then if i do it wrong
because the directions were wrong.
it's still my fault.
i should have known better.
i don't understand that.
but i'm still learning
and i'm still getting better...

i just found out today that out of our 5 1/2 employee's
we're losing 2...
the 2 who have been there the longest.
so now it's just going to be deep and i, who have been there
for a few months.
and then raman, who has been there for about 2 years.
i don't know what we're going to do....
business is good.
and now we're short staffed.
sigh.....

there's only two of us working tomorrow.
which could be good or bad.
either way. kind of stressful.

apples

i have been in private schools most of my life. when i went to 8th grade, my dad had just been fired from our SDA school, and it wasn't an option for me to go there. one: because my family was upset. two: because we didn't have enough money to send me there without the employee discount and send chad to BMA at the same time. i think there was also a problem with transportation as well. but those are the reasons that stick out the most. so what were my two choices? i could homeschool, or go to the public school where my dad was teaching. and of course, the way to make a well rounded decision. was to flip a coin. so i went to public school. i was really scared, because i had grown up in the adventist community. where all they tell you is that outsiders are bad, and that we need to convert the hethens. my first day was so awful. i was anxious and paranoid. the one thing that got to me, was lunch. because there were so many people, and i didn't know any single one of them. so i sat on the corner of a table with barely anyone. and ate my stupid sandwich. but when i had started going there for a while, things got better. i made a few friends. and i realized that i could actually buy things for lunch instead of bringing them. so what did i buy? honey buns. as long as i had money, i bought them every day. and sometimes a lemonade from the vending machine. i don't know why... i was in love with them. but for the rest of the year, and over summer, and then my freshman year at bma and then the summer after that... i ate them. i ate them until i was sick of them, and then for long time after that.

i was supposed to go to bma the summer before my freshman year. i was supposed to work there at industry. i didn't get out of school until they had already started working so right after i graduated i had a few days and then i had to pack my stuff and be gone. i had ridden with my brother when he had gone... so i knew the ride. and he was already there working, and telling everyone that i was coming. i was so scared. i was never really a camp person when i was younger. i hated the idea that my parents were leaving me behind. and i wouldn't be able to find them if i had trouble. i guess it all comes from my childhood or something... but i got there... and felt so panicky. i met mrs. moretta, and she was so nice.... she introduced me to gabby, and pooks showed me my room,and told me that everyone was in the guys dorm watching movies. but she would take me over there... but i didn't want to go. i got my room. and my parents helped me bring all my stuff inside. and i just wanted to leave. i started freaking out, and crying.... i felt like my chest was caving in. i didn't want to talk about it. i just wanted to go home, and lay in my bed with my pillow... and know that i was in a familiar place, with everything near me. my parents were really upset. and they yelled at me the whole way home. but i felt so relieved. it didn't even bother me...

oh lately it's so quiet

title-from a song, i think it's by ok go but i'm not sure. but it's such a happy sounding phrase.

resume message:

oh lately, i have been trying to come up with idea's for my future profession of choice. steevo has been helping me. there have been some pretty kick butt ideas. the one's that i'm most interested in are... dun dun daaaaa
-performer
-baker/pastry chef
-kindergarten teacher

that last one just got thrown in last night...
but i really like it.
there are a lot of others, like.... dental hygienist.

but i think i've narrowed it down to those three
i don't see why i can't do all of them.
wink

but who knows.... maybe my life will
just fall together. :)

elephants: EDIT

EDIT: i realized my link was definitely flawed.
so changed it. maybe now you will be able to see it
resume message

it's true. i am in love with them.

what is my newest treasure?

http://www.reddirect.co.uk/public/pictures/products/standard/Elephant%20bag%20still.jpg

i found this bag today...

i don't know if i'm going to get it.

because i need to save my money

but it is just so adorable.

i've been looking for

elephant bags.

but i should not be allowed to go shopping anymore.

i need to buy textbooks. :/

i feel like there's two of me.
the good one, and the bad one.
the good one wants to listen to you
and take all of your advice
and make sure that everyone comes out of this
squeaky clean
but the bad one doesn't care.
the bad one feels confined
and trapped
by all of the interference

they're fighting now...
i don't like the inbetween me
the me that laughs at other souls
and can't stand being one of them

first order of business

i'm working too much.

sunday night. monday morning
tuesday night wednesday morning

this is monday, i worked last night...
and i am so tired.
i just want to cry...
i don't feel like i slept at all, and now
here i go back to the old grind.

i'm tired of being around food.

i want to wear pretty clothes...
not black and white.

...

i heard somewhere, that if you spend christmas alone, it means that no one loves you



i spent christmas alone

a little while ago, i bought three moleskine journals. with the idea that i would have a continuation between the three of them... journals are really important to me, and these are the perfect kind. they have the smooth paper, no lines... they're small enough to fit in my bag, and the cover has nothing on it, so i can draw on it if i want to. and that's what i was going to do... i was going to have drawings between them... connecting them. the problem that i have faced, is that i don't know what to draw. i haven't been drawing anything lately. and today, i was thinking about it... i think i'm going to do flowers.
a lilly for life and resurection
an almond flower for hope and promise
and then an opium poppy as an antidote for the future

one of these days

i'm going to look pretty.
i'm going to fix my hair up in some
very cute and flattering way
i'm going to wear a dress that
makes me look like a movie star
i'm going to wear my favorite pair of high
heel shoes
and then i'm going to put on a whole tube
of lipstick, and kiss you.
so that you are wearing just as much
lipstick as me.

and i will smile and say
something cute
and you will laugh, and hug
me so tight, and i will never let
you, let go.

because i'm not in the mood to talk with you about this
or pretend it never happened
i'm in the mood to have you grow up
and stop trying to get me to grow down
i'm tired of walking on eggshells
i just want to spread my wings and fly free
far away from all of these nightmares
from the creatures you put under my bed
to make sure i can't sleep at night
i can't handle your judgment
or your misconstrued ideas of who
i should be.
i can't fit in your boxes.
i'm not in the mood to have you yell at me
and have my head pound with all of your
angry voices.
i'm ready to write my song
and stand at the end of the road
singing at the top of my lungs
and maybe it turns into something stupid
but at least it's mine
and i will never be in the mood to have
you take it from me

oh my god.
my life is twilight

no more... no more

i've been staring at the computer screen for so long...
there have been an enormous amount of lengthy emails
sent my way.

i'm just ready for things to be good again.
to have the birds sing to me when i wake up in the morning

but i'm starting to feel like
things are never going to be okay

i couldn't help it

today, i went on my life is average, for the first time...
and i found a few that made me laugh
so because i'm a loser... i'm posting them up...
get ready

Today, I found a muffin under my pillow. I live alone.

Today, my school officially banned "The Floor is Lava" game

Today, I saw Batman and Spiderman fighting next door to my job at the mall. After a surprisingly intense fight, Spiderman knocked Batman to the ground and won. Batman got up and shouted "I'm telling mom!" before running off. I love my job.

I was walking down the street and I run into this random guy in a robe. I was going to walk past him but then he passed me a sticker and said "Welcome to the cult" . I was freaked out until I noticed that there was a unicorn pooping out cupcakes on the sticker. I am a member of the best cult ever.

A few days ago, at lunch my friends and I were playing with a ball covered in little suction cups. We began throwing it at the windows that separate the junior/senior room from the rest of the cafeteria, deeply entrancing a table of senior boys. The next time we threw it, it hit the window, bounced off and a senior boy (who had been hiding behind a garbage can) jumped out, snatched it in midair, and continued walking like nothing had happened. Respect senior ninja, respect.

Today I was looking at the back of my orginal Old Spice Body Wash and it stated "If your Grandpa handn't wore it you wouldn't exsist" Thanks Old Spice, Thanks Grandpa.

Today, I was at the market and had a craving for some bananas. I walked to the produce isle. Finally found my bananas as i reached out to grab one a man in a banana suit came sprinting around the corner, and snatched the bananas out of my hands.He then proceeded to run away screaming "YOU CANT EAT MY CHILDREN!!" Banana man you have won this match..

topsy turvey

i want to be able to tell you that this weekend was amazing. that it was so incredible, and it changed my life... there were so many parts of it that were just, good. just what i needed. and then there were other parts of it that were just... terrible. on friday, i was waiting until 2 to leave... i got to have dinner with mrs. christian, and paul. but everything up until 2 was just... sad. i left, and it took me a while to get out of my funk... everything after that was soo good. i loved the gloria program.... i loved being able to go up, and stand next to nathanael and brittani, and roxy and belt out, in my squeeky rusty, ill-used voice the hallelujah chorus... and then that night, i got to see mrs. manente... and she looked so good, with her green scarf. i got to see so many people. then gabby and i went to danika's house, and talked until danika showed up... we exchanged christmas presents. they really liked theirs... i'm glad. i tried. we all went to sleep right after that... pookie and i woke up around 9:30-ish... we ate french toast and watched the latest episode of glee together... got ready and went to church... the service was kind of bleh, but mr. flores played his accordian.. so neat. we went to lunch at taco bell, and then pookie had to get jeff home.. so i had to say goodbye... i went and found earl and jacob and nathanael we all went for a walk around the 2 mile... then we went to the piano recital... and then... everyone was leaving. so i decided to go. everything was going well on the way home... but i should have gotten on to 95 north, instead of 95 south... so i ended up getting lost... and in near panic mode... and eventually i just shut down while peter was giving me directions... i pulled over and started crying for a minute or two... but i made it home... and then everything was okay... but then it wasn't again... and then it was... and then it wasn't... last night was this huge ordeal. this fight between light and dark... without the weapons. i tried to hug my dad last night. i got home... and it had been so hard... i tried to hug him. and he freaked out. he patted me on the back, and then escaped to the kitchen... i don't know.... i don't even know why i'm complaining
i should just shut up and accept it.
the end.

dear ____

i'm so frustrated with this right now...
every time i try to talk with you
it's like i'm desperately trying to grasp onto the
threads of our friendship
i'm scared to share pieces of my life with you because
i have no idea how you're going to react

and i try to ask you questions because i still want
to be friends with you, but it's like you've completely shut down
and i know... that we're just
going in circles...
and it's just the same as it's always been
no answer
no solution...

but i feel like, if this is the end. there should
be a goodbye. there should be a complete ending
there should be something to let me know
that you don't want me to try to be involved in your life...

and i want to know. that if we end up meeting
sometime in the future
it's not going to be awkward.
or strained.

but i guess there isn't a way to know
this. i guess.
i shouldn't be asking
questions that
i know that you can't answer.
i guess. i just shouldn't be
frustrated...
i don't know

i just don't know anymore...
i just don't.

cini-minis

"Compelling art to me is a name carved into a tree. Sometimes a rock soaring through a plate of glass can be the most beautiful, compelling work of art I have ever seen." barry mcgee

i've been thinking .... that i really want to learn how to paint. i've never done it before. i really want to learn how. i have this vision in my head of the perfect painting. the one picture that could symbolize everything. that could BE everything. but i don't know how to do it. i'm so excited about this pottery class. i can't wait to be elbow deep in my mind. i love the idea of creating for a living. but i know. that if it was my month to month paycheck. i would hate it. i would abolutely detest it. i know that i would procrastinate. and i would end up becoming a hermit. i love creating... but on my own time... i want to be around people. i want to share. i want to love.
but it feels like... whatever i decide to do, i'm going to need to go to school. i can't stand this. i hate this idea of sitting in a classroom. cramming for exams. there are so many things that i would try to explore, but the idea of school just exhausts me. i would rather go and be an apprentice somewhere. i want to learn one on one. with an actual person. not some teacher-drone. i like waitressing. i really do. it's one of the best things that i've ever been able to do. but i want to do other things too...
i feel a little stuck. i feel smooshed.

keep them tied

it's weird to hear you say things,
because you don't know what they mean.
i don't really like pretending.
but at least that's who i am.
at least i'm not lying.

short shorts

i had been planning to go shopping with my dad on sunday. since tuesday. it was just going to be me and him, and i was going to get the rest of my christmas shopping finished up. let's just say that not everything works out the way we hope. i did find this really cool hamburger phone. and i was able to find all of the gifts i wanted for everyone. i'm close. i'm really close, to finishing. now it's just a few more handmade things. :/ today is not a good day. i don't mean to complain. i should just suck it up, and deal. because carly, that's the way of the world... and that's how your cookie is crumbling.

they called me

on friday, i went with peter to the philadelphia art museum. and while we were trying to park. i hit another car. sigh....
so far, my second accident.
the insurance company called me today... and i had to give them my statement
i guess, i'm just ready for my easy button
i'm ready for the rewind.
to say, oh oops... i didn't mean to do that
why don't we just go back in time for a few seconds
and not make
huge ridiculous mistakes...

but other than the accident.
we had a good time. :)

it's not going to make her happy

tonight, i was talking with my mom after she got home from work. we got into the "do you remember what the house looked like when we were looking at it and other people lived here?" conversation. my mom is really stressed out by the way our house is. it's dirty. no one really cares except me and her. that makes three other people, who don't care about it at all... when other people lived here, it looked really good. there was pictures on the walls, there were statues. there were vases. everything was in it's place, and adorable. but then we moved in. our houses have never really been... clean. we throw everything everywhere... we save things from a billion years ago. we don't really.... get rid of things. spring cleaning never existed in my house. so i was talking with my mom, and she started telling me that she has all of these things that she wants to hang up, but there isn't a place for them. and if there was, she wouldn't know where to put them. she started telling me about all of them, and i was like. mom. we have to do something. so we started talking about what we could do... the upstairs is prepped and ready for wall hangings. everything's painted. we just need to clean, and rearrange. i told her that if she brought me stuff, i would hang it up. the one thing that she's really wanted to get done, is the downstairs hallway. we've been taking down that wallpaper since we moved in. just about 7 years ago. it's time to finish it. so i told her that if she took the rest of the wallpaper off, i would paint it. and i'm getting really excited about it. we already know what we're hanging on the walls down there when it's finished. i was thinking about paint colors... the tile that we put on the floor down there has these weird blues and purpley grays. so i'm going to get a bright blue, and a lavender. the lavender will be most of the walls and the light blue will go on the side with the closet, and my parents bedroom. it's going to look really good. and it will give me something to do. i think. i might fund the paint, and say it's christmas for dad. since i'm getting my mom something else. maybe it will just be for the both of them. it's not going to cost me very much... and i love doing these projects. and now, i have something to look forward to. something to plan. if i could do this for the rest of my life, i would. but the thing is. i know this isn't going to make her happy. i was so excited to paint my room. to put everything the way that i wanted. to let go of my old me, and embrace the new one. and after it was done.... i was like... okay, now what. it didn't make me happy. i don't even remember the excitement i had before it. but what else can i do? maybe if my mom and i work on this together, we can get something done. we'll work on the next project. maybe we'll even clean out the porch. maybe we'll be able to get rid of all the junk in our house. maybe we can save money to get a new couch. maybe maybe maybe. it's not about short term happiness.. my mom has been waiting her whole married life for her dream house. maybe all that we really need to do is clean up this one. and i'm pretty sure that we can have it up and looking sharp within the next six months. and i'm willing.

the crusades

i've been working on this paper for the longest time.
stupid. stupid. stupid.

i only have to describe the last couple crusades
discuss spain and the byzantine empire
compare them
and then conclude.

i already have my introduction
a discussion of the first two crusades
an understanding of the muslim
and christian attachments to jerusalem.

technically, i'm halfway there.
almost.
i'm at the end of page two
kind of.

i'm just so sick of this.
i want it to be finished.
after this paper.
i'm free.
(until sunday)

i just want it all over with.

the paper writing genies need to come
and finish this all up for me.

proper citations and everything.
GAH!

there are days.

sometimes, when i'm at work... i get this feeling... kind of like an out of body experience... it's strange knowing, that as crazy as things get, and as many mistakes that i make, and however many people are in the restaurant. and how many times people tell me to do things.. and how stressed out i get, that in a few hours. everything will be okay. and it will be like none of it even mattered. sometimes, i walk around, and i don't feel like me. i feel like an 18 year old waitress, trying to get through college. i feel like a completely different person. i can see myself. i can actually watch myself walking around, picking up plates, smiling at customers, and trying to be polite... it's one of the weirdest things.

this weekend, i went to the manentes.... and briana and i went out to the swamp, to take pictures... and for the first time in who knows how long... i felt pretty.

you know i love you, right?

do i? do i really?
i'm tired of being baited... and of baiting back.
when did you ever hold me? pick me up, and tell me that i was beautiful,
the apple of your eye?
when did you ever tell me that i wasn't an accident?
when did you ever surprise me? play with me? hug me?
you never say that you love me, unless i say it first
you never hug me, unless i hug you first
is this how it is supposed to be?
am i supposed to be straining all of my efforts trying to
impress you?
trying to make you have a reason to say that you care?
is this really working?
does it make you feel better to know that i need your approval
that i would die without it?
that i would try to die without it?
which one of us is the parent?
which one of us, needs to take the initiative?
which one of us, needs to grow up.

present face

my dad was really excited when chad was born. there are all of these pictures of the two of them playing together, and just hanging out. they had a good 3 years of play time. when everything was going good. when i was born, my dad was just starting his teaching career. which is when all of the bad things started happening. i don't really remember my childhood very much. there are bits and pieces... i remember having dreams that i was a princess, and that i could fly. that i was an explorer, and would go traipsing through the woods. i don't remember being scared of anything. i liked to climb on things, and play with my teddy bears. and the neighbor. but when i went to school, i started to freak out, because my dad would drop me off in the preschool room. and then kindergarten. i was so scared that he wasn't going to come back. there was nap time, and i almost never had my blanket and pillow, because i was scared i would forget them, and they wouldn't be at home with me. so i had to sleep on the blue cot. i don't remember liking nap time very much. there was one time, i was walking around the school, and i couldn't find my dad, i started bawling. and running around... and i was so scared. because he wasn't there. then we moved. i don't really remember very much about nebraska. there was childrens church, and it was cold... there was lots of corn. and there was a boy, evan, who sat across from me, who made fun of me. then we moved again. this time to tennessee.... up until this point, i don't remember spending time with either of my parents. my mom was always, football. and my dad just... didn't. he got mad at me a lot. or at least, i felt like he got mad at me. he would take me shopping. chad and i got a dollar for each year. we would go to walmart. i remember the most about tennessee... dad would take us to thrift stores. most of the time, i was really scared of him... i had my first boyfriend, and my first kiss when i was in third grade. my mom found out i had a boyfriend and was like, oh how cute. and told all of the relatives. then when they found out that i kissed him. they flipped out. my dad yelled at me for the longest time. he told me that i was going to be a slut and having sex and a loose dirty woman by the time i was 13. so i stopped talking to him. and then caleigh was born. i remember feeling like my parents loved chad more than me, because he didn't have to change the poop diapers. and then dad lost his teaching job. so he started working at papa johns. he would go out, and on thursdays he would bring chad and i a pizza while we were babysitting caleigh. but then papa johns wasn't enough, and the science teacher at gsa died. so he went to fill in up there. he would drive up, and live with my grandparents. while we stayed at home. he would come back like once every three weeks or so. and we thought that things might be okay, and that gsa would hire him. but they didn't. we ended up moving in with my grandparents while dad was looking for a new house. we've been here ever since. i remember eavesdropping on all of my parents conversations... they were always stressed out. they were always freaking out.... there was this atmosphere that the world is against us. that the adventists were against us. i remember being really mean to my brother. i didn't understand why he was the cool one. why he never had any problems. and i was getting yelled at.

the only thing that i can come to, is that i deserve this. it's okay for you to laugh at me. it is even right for you to do so. because i deserve it. and it's okay if you find me dull and ignorant. because i am. and i deserve your opinion. i deserve your scorn. and your disdain. and i deserve the yelling and the fighting. for you to turn the light out on me. to leave me cold. i deserve to be dirty and filled with disease. i deserve to be hated.

and if you give a little love, then you get a little love of your own

Well if you are (what you love)
And you do (what you love)
I will always be the sun and moon to you
And if you share (with your heart)
Yeah, you give (with your heart)
What you share with the world is what it keeps of you

from noah and the whale

i just want to be as small as i can. because if i'm small then they can't get me. they can't hurt me with their claws, and their teeth. they won't chase after me or corner me into submission. if i'm small, than i can escape. but i'm not small. and i will never be. and they're coming to get me.

i just went to visit bma
and it already feels like an eternity since i went.
i'm going this weekend to visit the manente's
and i hope the same thing doesn't happen....
things have just been going wrong lately
on thursday i forgot to do my homework twice
saturday, i was in the car driving until 2 AM
and on sunday at work, i went in... after just walking through the door, i broke 7 plates, ripped a table-cloth, cut my hand....
typical.
today i broke a cup. and spilled water.
tomorrow i give my speech.
i'm just tired...
i'm excited to go traveling. but i would probably be just as excited to sleep.... but luckily, today i discovered that i do not need to go to class on thursday. and i am not going on friday, due to traveling silliness. so i have like a 5 day weekend... or at least i would. if i did not need to go to work on thursday and friday.

today is the third anniversary of the friendship between pooper and myself. i guess the whole thing is just silly. (it seems that there isn't really anything that i have left that isn't silly) i used to get so excited, because becoming friends with justin was like reaching the unatainable. he's just too cool.

i can't even tell you how i feel right now. i just can't.
it's like i don't feel anything.
like i'm not allowed to feel anything.
i'm just engorged with vacancy.
i have no purpose. i have no joy.
and all of my efforts turn to dust.

"who am i this time"

FACT: i am good with my hands. i can create, and mold, and build. I learn by doing. not by sitting.
I want to do something meaningful. I want to be able to have people see and touch, and feel my soul. to hold it in the palm of their hands, to know that this is my contribution to the world. to know that it's benefiting the human existance. and in turn, i need my existance uplifted. i need meaning. i need to search for it. this is who i am right now. and i need to embrace it. i am not an adventist. and i will not become one, just because you think i should.