Sitting in internship class gives me the will to write, although the idea that this torment could be inspiring is laughable. We were told to choose a career path we have interest in and then were supposed to be matched with a “professional location.” When I was filling out my expected list of three possible careers, I wrote “vegan cooking” as number one. My teacher assumed that I wanted to do nothing but cut meat and dairy out of my diet as an adult, and she is one to be insufferable. She actually looks quite like Miss Frizzle. Scary. Anyway, I figured if her mind couldn’t be changed then I might as well take the trip once a week and pretend to intern at my favorite vegan store downtown. I’m totally doing it for the wrong reason, but who knows? Maybe I’ll end up as an organic food expertise and help homeless children become vegan and their lives will forever be changed.
You know what, forget all this. I’m just gonna be the queen of Genovia.
18 October 2010
09 October 2010
i knew a girl.
i knew a girl whose eyes were smudged with life; forget charcoal makeup. those eyes were lamps in my darkness, nightlights in the deafening hallway. i knew a girl with a lion's heart, with a brain unlike any i've ever encountered, brought down by no one and nothing, not even what tears apart most girls: other females. falling asleep next to her was better than having a full blanket of fleece on every winter's night worthy of my shivers. not once did she snore, kick me in the night, or complain about my thrashing nightmares. and i loved her like a sister, for mine was taken from me before i realized what was flashing before my eyes. she was eccentric and hot-tempered, young yet wise in the way only the elderly can be, as admonishing as a third grade teacher would be from the perspective of a wee eight year old.
with a bandana around her head and a 20th century cell phone, she stayed up with me for hours guessing what was wrong with me while i was too much of a wuss to confide in her. she made silly suggestions while i hid my watery smile in the blackness of north carolina. "are you scared that lena will wake up in the morning with hair dye all over the couch she doesn't own? clearly you're worried about cole and sunny meeting." i giggled and she held me, i cried and she wiped my tears, i made insufferable, annoying noises and she went and got me the tissue box without asking. she told stories of her father making jokes, of farming and being a fifth year college student. she was packed with amusing anecdotes and calming ways to solve issues no one would dare open the door for. she's the kind of sympathetic person one can easily take for granted, but i knew better than to do any such thing.
i do not write about this girl because i fell for her, i do not reminisce about her because of her strange impact on my life, or because she is an overwhelming symbol of heroism to me. i just need to explain to myself how one person can bring me so much enlightenment and sorrow at once, so much grief and guilt and yet a means of escape. i often used to question if i should cease my relationship with her and never speak another word to this girl. after all, her place of residence was over ten hours and five states away. how difficult could it be? just stop replying to text messages and facebook posts and i'd be good. but it was not going to happen. i had too much respect for this girl to just get over her like i'd gotten over so many before her. i have trashed friendships for good reasons and terrible ones, and without them i am forcing myself to live with no regrets. this is so much harder than it sounds, so much easier said than done, which is easily said about many things that could be done.
so i continued talking to this girl, and i'm very grateful that i made this decision. even if we don't talk every day, and she's very close with people that i very much disapprove of, i still admire her more than anyone. i'm not sure if she knows this, but she's one of the only people i can ask for advice from without worrying about sounding like a total jerk or anything at all negative. even if i handled a situation like a total bitch, she'd still be there holding my hand and telling me it'd be alright. and that she did. she comforted my heart in ways that no one ever cared enough to try.
she was like a mother figure as well as a big sister, walking me out of the harry potter theme park with her arms around me and another crying teenager. she didn't guide us straight from heartache to beauty, but from heartbreak to something of indifference. and after all, feeling nothing is better than wanting to kill everyone in sight.
she let me cry on her shoulder when 2,000 people in that theme park passed up a crying girl outside dervish & banges and rolled their eyes. she mailed a postcard for me that ended up worthless, she knew the consequences of my foolish actions before they happened and didn't bother to warn me. like a good mother would, she let me figure things out on my own no matter how far down it pulled me. she let me fall, crumble, sit on her lap, wrap my arms around her neck. she carried me around on her back, fell onto me in tears in my mother's bed, picked up the phone and called off a relationship as i held her hand. it felt so strange to be in the opposite position, comforting her, running my hands in circles on her back, but the next day you could never have tell that's what happened the night before. i miss her like no one does, like no one claims to, like no one ever will.
there's something about this girl that lets me open up automatically. it's almost a frightening feeling. if she asks me to spill the beans on what's upsetting me, i'll do so even if what's up isn't that bad. i just want her to be a part of my life and it's the weirdest thing. she is protection.
if i ever get the opportunity to live with mallory, i will.
with a bandana around her head and a 20th century cell phone, she stayed up with me for hours guessing what was wrong with me while i was too much of a wuss to confide in her. she made silly suggestions while i hid my watery smile in the blackness of north carolina. "are you scared that lena will wake up in the morning with hair dye all over the couch she doesn't own? clearly you're worried about cole and sunny meeting." i giggled and she held me, i cried and she wiped my tears, i made insufferable, annoying noises and she went and got me the tissue box without asking. she told stories of her father making jokes, of farming and being a fifth year college student. she was packed with amusing anecdotes and calming ways to solve issues no one would dare open the door for. she's the kind of sympathetic person one can easily take for granted, but i knew better than to do any such thing.
i do not write about this girl because i fell for her, i do not reminisce about her because of her strange impact on my life, or because she is an overwhelming symbol of heroism to me. i just need to explain to myself how one person can bring me so much enlightenment and sorrow at once, so much grief and guilt and yet a means of escape. i often used to question if i should cease my relationship with her and never speak another word to this girl. after all, her place of residence was over ten hours and five states away. how difficult could it be? just stop replying to text messages and facebook posts and i'd be good. but it was not going to happen. i had too much respect for this girl to just get over her like i'd gotten over so many before her. i have trashed friendships for good reasons and terrible ones, and without them i am forcing myself to live with no regrets. this is so much harder than it sounds, so much easier said than done, which is easily said about many things that could be done.
so i continued talking to this girl, and i'm very grateful that i made this decision. even if we don't talk every day, and she's very close with people that i very much disapprove of, i still admire her more than anyone. i'm not sure if she knows this, but she's one of the only people i can ask for advice from without worrying about sounding like a total jerk or anything at all negative. even if i handled a situation like a total bitch, she'd still be there holding my hand and telling me it'd be alright. and that she did. she comforted my heart in ways that no one ever cared enough to try.
she was like a mother figure as well as a big sister, walking me out of the harry potter theme park with her arms around me and another crying teenager. she didn't guide us straight from heartache to beauty, but from heartbreak to something of indifference. and after all, feeling nothing is better than wanting to kill everyone in sight.
she let me cry on her shoulder when 2,000 people in that theme park passed up a crying girl outside dervish & banges and rolled their eyes. she mailed a postcard for me that ended up worthless, she knew the consequences of my foolish actions before they happened and didn't bother to warn me. like a good mother would, she let me figure things out on my own no matter how far down it pulled me. she let me fall, crumble, sit on her lap, wrap my arms around her neck. she carried me around on her back, fell onto me in tears in my mother's bed, picked up the phone and called off a relationship as i held her hand. it felt so strange to be in the opposite position, comforting her, running my hands in circles on her back, but the next day you could never have tell that's what happened the night before. i miss her like no one does, like no one claims to, like no one ever will.
there's something about this girl that lets me open up automatically. it's almost a frightening feeling. if she asks me to spill the beans on what's upsetting me, i'll do so even if what's up isn't that bad. i just want her to be a part of my life and it's the weirdest thing. she is protection.
if i ever get the opportunity to live with mallory, i will.
04 October 2010
UGH.
i'm sitting in internship class. you have to pass it to graduate. it's kind of overwhelming. whelp. might as well start complaining!
it's only 9:22 in the morning and it's already been a pretty shitty day.
i woke up at 5:40 am and shoveled a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch and soymilk down my throat, chugged gingerale (ew? weird combination) and took a 3 minute shower. i never take morning showers. this was weird.
then i ran to the bus stop, stood there for about 10 minutes in the freezin' cold with wet hair, and watched my bus come. and then watched my bus pass me. and then listened as the kids who wait at the same bus stop as me but don't attend the same school as me laugh at me. then i walked around the block, down two streets and then back home. then sat on tumblr for an hour and came to school, where i sat in silence for an hour. this would be because my art class is full of douchebags and drew a penis on someone's folder. in paint. and no one will fess up, so we sat in silence and got zeroes until someone does. lol. can college come any sooner? jesus christ.
and now i'm on formspring and someone just asked:
"why are u such an ugly lesbian dike? i'm sick of looking at gaytards likes you."
WOW. I'M NOT SURE HOW TO BEGIN IN RESPONDING TO YOUR WELL THOUGHT OUT QUESTION, ASSHOLE.
and now my internship teacher is trying to tell me that my vegan cooking internship is not possible. even though i gave her a location for me to go. WHAT? what sense does this make? none, i tell you.
i will get through the day if it kills me.
it's only 9:22 in the morning and it's already been a pretty shitty day.
i woke up at 5:40 am and shoveled a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch and soymilk down my throat, chugged gingerale (ew? weird combination) and took a 3 minute shower. i never take morning showers. this was weird.
then i ran to the bus stop, stood there for about 10 minutes in the freezin' cold with wet hair, and watched my bus come. and then watched my bus pass me. and then listened as the kids who wait at the same bus stop as me but don't attend the same school as me laugh at me. then i walked around the block, down two streets and then back home. then sat on tumblr for an hour and came to school, where i sat in silence for an hour. this would be because my art class is full of douchebags and drew a penis on someone's folder. in paint. and no one will fess up, so we sat in silence and got zeroes until someone does. lol. can college come any sooner? jesus christ.
and now i'm on formspring and someone just asked:
"why are u such an ugly lesbian dike? i'm sick of looking at gaytards likes you."
WOW. I'M NOT SURE HOW TO BEGIN IN RESPONDING TO YOUR WELL THOUGHT OUT QUESTION, ASSHOLE.
and now my internship teacher is trying to tell me that my vegan cooking internship is not possible. even though i gave her a location for me to go. WHAT? what sense does this make? none, i tell you.
i will get through the day if it kills me.
15 September 2010
11 September 2010
i want to go on the best roadtrip ever.
a post senior year road trip for me would honestly be better than a senior trip of any sort. i dunno what you think of when you hear the word "roadtrip", but this is what i want on mine:
1.) the best of best friends.
2.) absolutely no drama.
3.) endless laughter.
4.) music, whether we know all the words or not.
5.) a group reading of a book (not including the driver.)
6.) documentation of each state we enter.
7.) absurd rest stops.
8.) a plethora of inside jokes that everyone gets.
9.) driving at night.
10.) unhealthy snacks.
11.) care. free.
12.) candid photos.
13.) air conditioning.
14.) faking finding margo.
15.) gossip about grade school.
16.) latoya.
17.) relating everything to harry potter.
18.) funny road signs.
19.) eating at a restaurant just because of its name.
20.) being able to say we're done with another year of school.
21.) feeling infinite.
22.) peeing in a bottle.
23.) smiles left and right.
24.) minivan.
25.) picking up more people on the way.
26.) ukulele.
27.) imitating each other's laughter.
28.) story time.
29.) holding hands.
30.) seeing the last harry potter movie together.
31.) buffalo sighting.
32.) i spy.
33.) accents changing as we go.
34.) doesn't even matter when we're out of service.
35.) vegan cookies.
36.) sour patch kids.
37.) shoeless.
38.) booty shorts.
39.) choking on food laughing.
40.) freestylin' about scenery.
41.) quote book.
42.) dvd player.
43.) braiding each other's hair.
44.) giggling over the cute waiter.
45.) flipping off the pittsburgh sign.
46.) "girlfriend, you need a hat."
47.) vlogging.
48.) crazy looks when we stop to get gas.
49.) no check ups from crazy parents.
50.) nappy hair from the wind.
the list goes on.
1.) the best of best friends.
2.) absolutely no drama.
3.) endless laughter.
4.) music, whether we know all the words or not.
5.) a group reading of a book (not including the driver.)
6.) documentation of each state we enter.
7.) absurd rest stops.
8.) a plethora of inside jokes that everyone gets.
9.) driving at night.
10.) unhealthy snacks.
11.) care. free.
12.) candid photos.
13.) air conditioning.
14.) faking finding margo.
15.) gossip about grade school.
16.) latoya.
17.) relating everything to harry potter.
18.) funny road signs.
19.) eating at a restaurant just because of its name.
20.) being able to say we're done with another year of school.
21.) feeling infinite.
22.) peeing in a bottle.
23.) smiles left and right.
24.) minivan.
25.) picking up more people on the way.
26.) ukulele.
27.) imitating each other's laughter.
28.) story time.
29.) holding hands.
30.) seeing the last harry potter movie together.
31.) buffalo sighting.
32.) i spy.
33.) accents changing as we go.
34.) doesn't even matter when we're out of service.
35.) vegan cookies.
36.) sour patch kids.
37.) shoeless.
38.) booty shorts.
39.) choking on food laughing.
40.) freestylin' about scenery.
41.) quote book.
42.) dvd player.
43.) braiding each other's hair.
44.) giggling over the cute waiter.
45.) flipping off the pittsburgh sign.
46.) "girlfriend, you need a hat."
47.) vlogging.
48.) crazy looks when we stop to get gas.
49.) no check ups from crazy parents.
50.) nappy hair from the wind.
the list goes on.
09 September 2010
i don't even know
i don't know what hurts the most - the part where i was led on, or the part where i would've preferred being lied to.
the part where i believed it or the part where i needed it.
that i want it to be how it was but i need to start fresh.
that i care too much to let go and hurt too much to hold on.
that i cry too much to be cheerful and laugh too much to be morose.
that i wish too much to move on and accustom myself to rejection too much to be surprised.
that i still want you too much to be friends.
that i still mope when i'm not distracted.
that i'm still never too distracted enough not to mope.
that i still feel worthless and friendless and unloved and i shouldn't.
ever.
i'm too good for this. why can't i believe it even though i know it deep down?
why? because your face just screams 'fuck you' in every way possible. how?
it's just a face.
time to grow up.
but i know that even when i do figure out what really hits the bruise in the right spot, i'll just be more upset.
and i think that's what stings the most, at least.
the part where i believed it or the part where i needed it.
that i want it to be how it was but i need to start fresh.
that i care too much to let go and hurt too much to hold on.
that i cry too much to be cheerful and laugh too much to be morose.
that i wish too much to move on and accustom myself to rejection too much to be surprised.
that i still want you too much to be friends.
that i still mope when i'm not distracted.
that i'm still never too distracted enough not to mope.
that i still feel worthless and friendless and unloved and i shouldn't.
ever.
i'm too good for this. why can't i believe it even though i know it deep down?
why? because your face just screams 'fuck you' in every way possible. how?
it's just a face.
time to grow up.
but i know that even when i do figure out what really hits the bruise in the right spot, i'll just be more upset.
and i think that's what stings the most, at least.
06 September 2010
i blog about reality all the time
it's so hard for me to stop wishing something would happen. like, you know, getting over someone and all that jazz. because i've had my head in the clouds all my life, i'm used to bending the rules of normality to get what i want. and it's just hard to sit back and watch people adapt to 'pure reality' and be stuck with nothing but my dreams to keep me going. and when those are crushed, i'm absolutely clueless on what to do next. i get really depressed, but that's not the worst part. it's the getting better that's hard, because sometimes i'll have moments and segments of days where it seems like everything is getting better. but it's not. it's all a trick, and when it actually does get better, how will i keep my dreams out of the reality i'm trying to pursue? i don't even know if reality is worth any attention i could give. my life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)