clear skies are a-comin'

I'm just frustrated right now.

With AJ, specifically, though I don't really know the depth of my frustration. I REALLY like that boy. A lot. But he didn't tell me he didn't get a ticket for semi, and the only way I found out about that was by ASKING HIM FOUR HOURS BEFORE THE DANCE. And that's just...like, NOT ok. And whatever, like, it doesn't matter that he didn't go, it matters that he didn't tell me. And then yesterday, he didn't tell me he wasn't coming to the Mardi Gras party. I'll take some responsibility for that though because I assumed he was coming, even though he hadn't said if he was or wasn't. But he didn't come and Crystal had seen him walking around town before hand so there's like NO excuse in my opinion. And I'm just really frustrated with him. Like, gah, I don' teven know how frustrated I am. Like, I don't know if it's gonna be something that's hurting our relationship or what. Cuz I know one sweet gesture and I'll be back in his lap like always. And I really don't want to lose this because I like him a LOT, but you know? And I don't want to say anything about it because I don't want to recognize that not everything's perfect. And it doesn't have to be perfect, maybe I'm just getting more serious about us than I should.
And I'm a little overtired. Pull yourself together, girl. I just don't want to resent him for this later. It's starting to follow the Ian pattern, ya know? And I slightly resent Ian for that, I don't want to be mad at AJ. And I don't want us to end; he makes me happy.
We'll hang out tonight. We'll chill out somewhere, maybe cuddle in the rain, and I'll find myself falling back in love. Pattern of amore.
It'll be alright. Everything's gonna be alright, everything's gonna be alright. I feel better having gotten that out. Like Anna Nalick, no longer threatening the life it belongs to.
Yeah. Yeah. It's ok.
Love,
me

start-led

I need someone to talk to,

For the first time in a long time,

I've always been a lucky person because i've had people
to listen to me but now they're gone

No one's listening on the other end of the phone,
no one is sitting across from me,

Dear wishing wings,
Seeing your face today brought all the memories back to me, flooding me with emotion, drowning me in sorrow. I wanted to pretend that it didn't phase me, seeing you there in that elevator. I wanted my friend to keep talking so that I would look busy infront of you. But you could see that I was nervous, you could see my mind racing. I wanted you to look at me, to say I forgive you, to say how are you. I wanted you to look at me with those soft eyes and tell me that we could be friends again. People always say that things should be let go of, people need to move on. There are so many people out there and yet you from three years ago can stop my heart on a dime. I have all the letters you wrote me, all the pictures you gave me, I can recall all the things we did, all that we shared, but at the end of the day, i can't call you and say hello. It was good to see you today, you looked as beautiful as the first day i saw you. I wish you the best of luck on the test and hope that your dreams come true. I wish i could say these things to you in person, but i know thats not what you want.

On the back of one of the pictures you gave me, you wrote that "because I know your out there changes the world for me" and I hope you don't mind if I use it. To your happiness.

-Sam

This startled me. A lot. One of my friends had something on her profile (see poetry...) and I thought it was a song and I wanted to know the lyrics so I copy/pasted onto Jeeves and whatnot, and that above thing came up. And I know it wasn't MY Sam that wrote it, but I really thought it was. And it startled me. I've read that over several times. Over and over because it sounded so much like him. Wishing wings: We all know my tendancy to make tons of wishes, and he made me wings. He's always been the "cooler" one, but sometimes confided in me that intimidated him. I don't know if that's still true, but whatever. He loved my "soft brown eyes." I was beautiful to him.

Anyway, I'm not gonna go get melancholy over him, but still. Startled me, made me stop. Made me read and re-read.

my paper heart will bleed. my heart on paper.

I am rubber, you are glue. Nicknames slide off of me and are forgotten in the infinite abyss. And stuff tends to cling to you at most inconventient times.
I love my friends. A lot. Like, that kind of a lot where it's a lot.
I love pretty words like baby's breath, shattered tears, kiss, pool of silk, fierce, neck, caress, skin, and catastrophe.
I love puns and the Bard.
I know I'm loved when someone tells me and/or when they kiss my forehead.
I make wishes all the time and on anything. The first star I saw, the fiftieth star I saw, an eyelash, an eyebrow, a clasp showing on a necklace, a twisted ring, when the hours match the minutes, when I have the hiccups, etc.
When I'm upset I want a hug and someone to play acoustic guitar and sing for me.
I sneeze a lot.
I believe in true love and soul mates and Santa. Haven't yet decided about Elvis.
Tiger lilies are my favorite.
I love the name Ophelia, and I think it's beautiful that she drowned in a white dress.
I like the word clamidya, and if it weren't a nasty disease, would consider naming my daughter it.
I really like taking pictures. I just don't think I'm that good at it. Not on purpose at least.
I can't say the word Tylenol properly.
When I spell words, I say how they sound, like scissors, knight, knife and egregious.
I talk to myself a lot, and often will make the proper facial expressions to correspond with my conversation without being aware of it. As a result, I often have to rearrange my face.
I face away from the water in the shower, and always wash my hair first.
I can't clench my pinkies without my ring finger and sometimes middle finger clenching as well.
And I have really really small hands. (Even in the rain.) And they're rarely warm.
If I sit "like a lady", my legs fall asleep and I get nasty bruises on my butt. My buttbones could cut diamonds.
I love having a crafty project to work on.
I think I'm hysterical. I'm the only one who thinks that.
I laughed after writing that.
No one else did.
I really love my friends. Still.
I like being a little kid.
Spontaneous fun is the most fun.
I love sweet things.
And nachos.
I'm a sucker for a really bad pick up line.
People expect me to be dominant and I usually am. Not really on purpose though.
I'm fascinated by stories. Especially mythology and folk tales.
I like the color green and how babies' mouths move when they sleep, as though they're whispering the secrets of the universe to themselves.
I have 34 freckles/beauty marks/angel kisses on my arms, shoulders, and face. And two on my legs. And one in my eyebrow.
I have never broken a bone and my scars are the color of toast. Toasted toast, not half-on-fire toast or you-can't-tell-I-was-toasted toast.
Poor grammar bugs me.
I believe that in the episode of the Angry Beavers in which Norbert owes Daggat some favor or another, (so Daggat writes it in waterproof marker on the inside of his eyelids so he doesn't forget) they were really on to something.
I joke about Karma though I'm not sure if I believe in it.
I once was sitting on my bed staring out my window and I could only see the first row of trees because the fog obscured the rest. As I sat there, I realized that I didn't really know if the world ended there or not. I assumed it didn't, and that Linda Lane was behind them just as it usually is, but I couldn't prove it in that moment. This lead to a really long and elaborate chain of thought in which I decided that things don't end, they just change. People don't die, we just stop being able to see them. Just like the trees (and the world). They didn't end, I just couldn't see them anymore.
There's nothing less sexy in the entire world than a picture of a person on the phone. In Newsweek, they did an interview on Orlando Bloom, so of course they had to put a picture of him there. Now, Orlando Bloom is an attractive specimen of human. I'm not saying he's like, God, or absolutely blazin' or anything, but he is attractive. The picture of him was a close up of his face while he was lying down on a bed or something, and he's holding a phone to his ear and gazing up at the camera. Biggest turn off ever. I simply do not understand this trend of 'talk on the phone pictures'. In my opinion, it makes the person seem very disconnected. A sexy picture is a picture of someone looking intently and straight into the camera, so that when you look at the picture, the person looks as though they're communicating directly with you. It's intimate and personal instead of off-hand. Plus, no matter how posed the non-phone picture may be, it ALWAYS looks more natural than a phone picture. A phone picture says (in an extremely forced way) "Hi. I'm too busy to be concerned with you. I have lots of friends and I'm too cool to bother with the likes of you. Tell me I'm hot, I get it all the time, and then leave me alone, because I'm a busy person." Not sexy. At all. A phone picture directly communicates that whoever is on the phone is more important that the person taking the picture, so that whoever looks at the picture is automatically less important than the person on the phone. And that's a faux pas. The purpose of a picture is to capture a glimpse of someone's soul, yet a phone picture captures a glimpse of the worst aspects of a person. I find it highly offensive.
The reason I have made this list is to show myself (and I suppose whoever reads this) how I am unique and how no one else is me. Although they may have some similar things about them, I am the only person to which everything on this list applies to.
I don't really believe in angels. I like the idea, and I think it's a sweet symbolism for recycled energy.
I love my body even though it's not perfect.
My guilty pleasure is bad music. (I.e. pop/punk.)
I really really really hate Green Day's American Idiot CD. I liked it when it first came out, but now it makes me want to vomit. I can't decide what was overplayed more: that or "My Heart Will Go On".
I also really hated the book "A Child Called It." I resent emotional manipulation. I didn't think that it was a well written novel, but because of the issues it deals with, one is FORCED to cry. I am emotional enough and cry about plenty of things (Bambi, anyone?) but I hate being in a situation that makes you cry even though it doesn't touch you deeply. That novel was badly written, but it takes an iron fist and squeezes out superficial tears that don't touch you deeply. "My Sister's Keeper", now that's a novel that makes you cry from your soul, not from your eyes. I'm also pissed off at the 6th Harry Potter novel for the same superficial tears. Except that it was well written, the rest of it.
I love singing- just not in the shower.
I try to pick up the phone as soon as possible.
I'm endlessly fascinated with the things we are born knowing how to do. Babies are born knowing how to suck, how to breathe, how to blink, and they will grip your finger in their tiny little hands. I don't know why that gripping reflex happened- the rest seem sorta logical, but that doesn't. Interesting fact though; when babies are breast fed, they usually press on the top of the breast, and by doing so release "sweet milk" from their mother. That certain spot when touched or pressed or something while breast feeding induces extra oxytocin throughout the mother and that chemical gives a feeling of bonding and closeness.
I'm usually cold.
I like letters a lot more than numbers, and I really don't like abbreviations. I don't like internet lingo, with a few exceptions. (For example, "brb," since it's fast if you have to go enjoy your French toast before it gets cold or if you have to save your grandma because she's on fire.)
I'm very cuddly and I touch my friends a lot, either by linking arms, hugging, leaning against each other, etc.
If I don't know you, I do NOT want you near me. I have a huge personal bubble. This applies to adults as well.
I don't kiss relatives on the mouth. Actually, I don't kiss them much at all. I'm all about the hugs.
I love dancing at clubs/dances.
I don't identify with religion.
I also don't identify with sexuality, though I am a very sexual creature.
I don't believe my fortune cookies unless they have one or more of my lucky numbers on them. Exceptions can be made for really really cute or stupid fortunes.
I really hate being scared/startled. I don't think it's funny at all.
I'm not a big fan of practical jokes being played on me. On someone else is alright. (If they don't get hurt.)
I always wear my Livestrong.
I am completely comfortable with myself.
I would love to eat purely organic foods for the rest of my life.
When I'm nervous or anxious about something, I dance in my sleep.
I cannot resist warm things. (Sunbeams, the couch when someone gets off of it, heated seats, heating pads, etc.)
I'm currently procrastinating.
I always root for the underdog
One of my pet peeves is imperfect nails.
I have this insane weakness for really skinny guys. Especially tall skinny guys. (Daniel V. from Project Runway, anyone?! Yowza. It's a shame he's gay.)
I love passionately.
I like people with wide mouths and huge smiles. I also like guys with super curly hair so it turns into an almost afro sorta thing. Also, super mini sproingy dreds.
I'm a lover, not a fighter.
I dance. Passionately.
My mood has a direct relationship with the weather.
I really don't care about Smallville anymore.
I'm a sucker for a candy book, and am seriously debating spending my Friday night in the library reading them.
I love my friends.
I have no patience for fake people.
I have no idea where this quotation is from: "You can't dust for vomit."
I just searched it and apparently it has something to do with Spinal Tap, although I never saw it.
I will no longer fear when a guy claims that he's gonna punch me in the ovaries. Guys don't know where ovaries are.
I am easily hurt, because I'm a romantic who wants nothing more than love.
I wash my hair first (and twice before conditioning) before washing my face and then the rest of my body.
I really do like to be alone even though I know it makes me sort of a loser.
I'm petrified by suspenseful music.
I do not drink, nor do I think I ever will.
I don't like pina coladas, but I do like getting caught in the rain. I am into yoga (not champange), I've got a complete brain. I like love everywhere and anywhere. I want to escape.
I do not like guns.
I always curl my eyelashes though I don't always wear mascara, and I rarely wear any other makeup.
I always have chapstick.
My hiccups hurt me.
I've got a sweet fang.
My hands are never warm.
I like to sing one very very loud note while in a quiet, empty room.
I am a hopeless romantic. Not just someone who likes holding hands, not just a romantic, but a completely gooey squishy flowers, teddy bears, sweet nothings, cuddling, staring into each other's eyes for forever hopeless romantic.
I like being naked.
On the phone, I hang up first.
I am embarassed to eat at parties.
I prefer to be barefoot.
I have been complimented on my body skin most.
I have impossible allergies.
I love the feeling of sun on my skin.
YouTube makes me really irrationally happy.
Reading in the pool has become one of my favorite things.
Feeling water on my bare skin is another one of my favorite things.
I'm feeling giggly, though I have nothing to giggle at.
I could cuddle forever.
When kissed on my back, I get chills.
I taste like rainbows.
I find the smell of plastic incredibly calming.
I don't think Saturday Night Live is particularly funny.
I do think cartoons are funnier when you're in a group.
I like boys who bite their nails. Primarily because I hate boys with long nails.
When watching TV, I frequently don't laugh, even if I am amused.
I always call back. At the very soonest possible moment.

dinner time at the lovesick resteraunt

and your taste still lingers on my lips like i just placed them upon yours
and i starve
i starve for you

It's really insane how that happens. I smell like AJ now and he smells sooooooo damn good. It nearly kills me. HOW can he smell so good? Just like Sarah said, just wanna eat him up. Yum. Yum.

what have i learned today?

It is currently January 5, 2006. And this is what I've learned today:
I really don't care about corn and its recessive v. dominant genes.
I'm really good at figuring out Punnett squares without trying.
My eating schedule is totally off.
I'm really excited to go to school, but I'm enjoying the last bit of time I have here.
I should ask AJ if he's going to semi, cuz I don't know...
How a boy acts toward you is most important. Just 'cuz one guy messed up doesn't mean they're all like that.
Trust.
I don't really know Jordan's last name.
I am really tired.
Procrastination knows no bounds.
I take a lot of responsibility for my friends.
I. Am. So. Tired.
I really don't want to do my homework.
I have senioritis.
I really like colors.
Again. Tired. And I need to do hw before it gets too late. 'Night ladies and gentlemen.

day at a glance

Ya ever read something that's just really, really, really flippin' stupid? Here's my favorite of the day.

"Have a happy period!"

When on my period, if anyone said that to me, I'd make a happy hole in their head with some large gun or bullet or something painful.
-------------------------------------------------
So, I've been thinking about coming out of the closet. The myspace closet, that is. I mean, I have one, a select few are aware of this, and I do have intentions of making one where people recognize who I am, as to keep in touch during college, etc. But I really don't want to do it soon. But I would like to change...but again, don't want to do it too soon. Want to do it at a time when people will be excited to find out they have another way to contact me, not a way to hunt me down and stalk me. Cuz that's weird. And I'm totally against that. It's just that myspace is a good way to vaugely keep in touch with people without the pressure of having to im them regularly or email them or what have you. I also keep meaning to write in this more. (OH! By the by, happy 2006! WHOOO!) It's so new now. How sweet. How charming. How soon I will be so sick of it.
--------------------------------------------------
After school was enjoyable today. Stayed after to work on photo, and ended up talking with the other girl in the dark room, whose name I don't actually know. Huh. Anyway, she's in AJ's class. She was looking at a picture of AJ in the rinse bath and she's like, "Woah. That's some serious gray." (It wasn't the greatest print in the world.) And I replied, "Yeah. Cute subject though." To which she replied "Isn't he your boyfriend?" This mildly delighted me. A little bragging. Heh. Whatever. Entertain me. So that sorta spawned a gigantic conversation about money and travelling, and cultures, and family, and cars, and car accidents and language and stuff. Which certainly made the picture process a lot more tolerable, though I sometimes forgot what I was doing. Which is always sorta silly, and then you feel like an idiot 'cuz you can't remember why you picked up a test strip. And I've decided that I want a dark room in my house when/if I grow up. That'd be fab. Fabbity Fab Fab. That'd be kind of a cliche name for a retro band. Or a band that is retro, but vehemtently denies it.
Right, so back to after school. I went to the band room to pick up my stuff/call someone to come get me, and the Kessler twins were there, and I had my first real conversation with them. It's quite crazy, the way senior year will change you. I mean, teachers start treating you like people instead of children (which is lovely), you're trusted more, mom's getting more lenient on certain things, and I can connect with older people more. AAH! I suppose that's a sign that I'm growing up! EEEK! *Dives under covers and clutches 'Peter Pan'* Gah. Was gonna happen eventually. Woah. Dad got home an hour and a half ago and he just now finished dinner. What a slow eater. I think I might be thirsty though. Time for water. After I finish my story. So I was talking to them about college.
Kay. End of story. Water!
---------------------------------------------------
I like omlettes. And I do not like corn bread. Unless it's candy-sweet. The family had a discussion yesterday about the craving flavors. I like sweet, Alex likes spicy, Dad likes sour (vinegar....eugh. I like lemon sour, but I don't crave it) and Mom likes salty. But Mom thought there were five common cravings. As far as I can tell, those are sort of the only flavors. I didn't get my water. I'll do that in a minute.
---------------------------------------------------
Got it finally. And am washing out my water bottle which hasn't been washed in...oh...I dunno...the history of the world?

i love

i love:
-his hands, and that he lets me hold them
-the way the freckles go down his neck
-and settle on his shoulders
-and are sprinkled on his tummy and back
-his thick eyelashes
-his green eyes
-his big smile
-how pink his mouth gets after he's been kissing me
-how he's always smiling, which makes the moments when he's not all that more startling
-how he's not perfectly suave
-how he calls me sunshine
-how he kissed my forehead, nose, cheek, cheek, chin, and mouth
-how he put his jacket near my backpack
-how he stutters whole words
-how he blinks
-his hipbones
-how we're a little awkward, but comfortable with that
-everything about him

my worth

I am worth $2,204,986 on HumanForSale.com

Hah. Whoo. I'm expensive, ho's.