Is Quoting Myself Narcissistic?

It's pretty hard to be funny in writing, especially for me.  When I make people laugh it's usually because I'm making a face/hand motion/action to go along with my words.  I also find it very hard to be funny on cue (which is yet another challenge of writing it all out), so if you find me funny from reading my blog, you're a beautiful angel who deserves an award.
Luckily for me, I have an awesome roommate who quotes me a good bit on twitter.  So I thought I'd do a quick little list of my favorite things I've said that she quoted me on (in order of least favorite to favorite).  Hopefully you'll get a taste of my sense of humor with words instead of writing for a change.

14. Hips are to thighs as jelly is to jello.
13. What if I put it on a t-shirt?  Would it still be depressing?
12. He looks like he just came out of uterus! He should NOT be holding a baby.
11. That's why Soprano singers get all the D.
10. I would not pop out a baby, I would pop out a brick.  It would not be pretty.
9.  ...which means I know where the SPCA is and I can go and pet fucking kittens! (Me on going home for a weekend).
8. My Friend: "Like a good neighbor state farm is there."  Me: "with an abortion kit!"
7. (in response to the previous one) I saw your mouth drop and I thought, oh no, I went to far.
6. Who would pick a child when you can have a dog?
5. He's wearing a mop on his head...except it's his hair.
4. I mean if someone spent the money on the alcohol, and then spent the money on the rufies, they'd hang on to that shit. (me on drinking mysterious alcohol found under bushes).
3. That's what's wrong with him; he's a smirker.  I don't like smirkers. (My take on Mitt Romney).
2. I have such pussy hands.  I got a blister from sharpening pencils once.
1. It was like someone stuck a cotton ball in my mouth...and then a fart. (Me on grapefruit).

You're welcome to follow me on twitter (although I'm no funnier there than I am here, promise): https://twitter.com/delrue77

My Holiday Heart-to-Heart

I'm going to tell you all a secret:  I'm really bad at keeping my own secrets.  You know how sometimes you're dared by your friends to "tell them something you've never told anyone?"  I never have one of those, because I share everything about myself.  The gross stuff, the sex stuff, all the times I fall up (and down) the stairs.  I have never done something interesting & not told at least one person.

Until now.  I recently did something stupid and it's a personal dare for me to keep it to myself.  However, since I don't know anyone personally who reads my blog, I'm thinking that writing about it won't break the dare.  Also, I think that it's a really good lesson.

I'm not afraid of my mistakes, which is good since I make a lot of them.  I'll blush and be embarrassed, but I'll own up to them, because in the end they're (usually) always a good thing.  That sounds very Yoda or Gandhi, but I swear it's the truth.  So when I told someone recently that I loved them knowing they didn't feel the same way, I at first considered it a mistake.  It was awkward and sad, but it was also possibly the most amazing thing I'd done in a long time.

My love for this person wasn't the right kind.  It was heavy and depressing, and it made me feel like I had an obsession instead of a romance.  I couldn't leave this poor guy alone (or more accurately, I couldn't stop sleeping with him).  I kept thinking, "if I stick around for just a little bit longer he'll want me.  He'll see how great I am."
Yeah, that didn't happen.
What it finally took was me telling him that I loved him.  I was passing this heavy weight of love from myself to him.  He was to walk away knowing that he's looking for something I already freely gave.  And you would think him not loving me back would make me sad, but it actually makes me feel better.  I gave everything I could and it wasn't enough.  What a sad man he must be to not find happiness with one of the most amazing things a person can offer.

So that's my secret, it doesn't seem like much on the internet, but my friends would shit a baby if they knew that I even contacted this guy again, much less told him I loved him.

So here's to no regrets, I loved, I lost, and I learned a lesson.

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Gypsy Living

I'm tired
I've written of a love I'll never taste
A dried up tongue
From cutting up too many words
With my hate
With my haste

And I'm cold
My fingers frozen to the bones
Still they type away
Poems
That will never be read
Like Emily Dickenson
I'd rather be dead than publish

My secrets aren't dark
And they aren't anything new
But cut me open, and this
Is all that I am
A broken spirited disaster
With a splash of art
The one thing I can always love
That won't tear me apart

I am human, I bleed
I feel what others feel
My empathy knows no bounds
It vibrates off my skin
and pours out of my eyes
It floats until it finds it's way up
To some heaven beyond our skies

I hope to one day travel
I'd like to see the world
And I wonder what it'd make of me
A simple, vacant girl...
I've never felt quite whole
I'm only a half; a piece
I'm looking for some dirt from France
To complete the rest of me

I want to taste the accents
On the words that make me smile
And feel rain on my skin
That's traveled over desert miles
I just might give up love
If it meant a gypsy living
The only thing that stops me
Is fear of my own empty,
bitter ending.

Chest-bumps and Crowd Chants

I finally went to my first college football game yesterday.  Throughout this semester I'd requested three tickets, received all of them, even printed them out only to later decide that I didn't want to go to a damn football game.  My friends convinced me it would be fun, that I would just love it, so I went.

At first I was excited, everyone had such school spirit (something my high school had never managed).  The thought "I want to go to every football game for the rest of college" even crossed my mind.  That was quickly erased, however, as I remembered why I don't like football in the first place.

I don't have the attention span to watch that crap!  It goes on forever, and then a few days after that.  The chants got old, and after a certain point we were beating the other team to such an extent they weren't going to come back at all so to watch any more was pretty much irrelevant.   

I've decided that should I choose to go to another one in the future I should be solidly drunk, like all of the other people around me.  Then maybe I'll find men hitting each other with their bodies more entertaining.

P.S. 

Rugby is so much better.

Slut Talk

I'd like to address the issue of sluts.  I'm a "young woman" (19) and from the time I was in 7th grade to now, that word has gotten thrown a lot.  Sometimes it gets applied to someone who is not a slut, they just make other girls jealous.  And it is almost always applied to girls.  Never a guy.
So one of my questions is why do girls feel the need to judge other girls so harshly?  Why are we so competitive?  We feel the need to break other girls down by their actions or "wrong doing," but why?  There is ALWAYS going to be someone prettier than you, more fashionable, more everything.  Just accept that now and find some peace in it.
I also feel like everyone has a different definition of "slut," and that is another aspect of the frequent misuse of this word.  What's slutty to one person, might not be slutty to another.  To the Amish, shorts on girls (no matter the length) are probably thought of as whatever the Amish word for slut is.  Most american girls obviously don't feel that way.  Some girls embrace the word, on twitter they hashtag #teamslut and will openly admit it to anyone.  Yet this doesn't take away the fact that when called that in a fight or behind their back, it's hurtful and it usually pisses them off.
I honestly can't give my definition of a slut.  I guess it would be something like: a girl who openly degrades herself in public or elsewhere with a guy (ex: sex in public, not wearing pants, flashing people on purpose--not for beads).  But even that definition is more "slutty" than "slut."  I feel that one night you might drunkenly make a fool out of yourself, but that doesn't brand you a slut for life.  Does being a stripper make you a slut for life?  I don't feel that it does.
Would you call someone svelte?  No, because you don't know what it means (or probably how to say it), so WHY are we using the world slut?
So lets all put the word slut in our back pocket and use it sparingly or save it for jokes, instead of serious name calling.  At least until we have all agreed on a true meaning to the word.
Thank you.

Loose Change

My love is poisonous,
Like a snake in the grass.
No one ever survives.
No one can seem to get past.

My love is wrong,
Like a word written backwards.
Erase and repeat,
I never find what I seek.

My love is a waste,
Laid wreckage from a war
No one will take it,
No one wants me anymore.

My love is loose change,
At the bottom of a cup,
Sticky and messy,
And all used up.

I never ask for love back.
No romantic woe.
That's why I loose so much;
I'm the only one to let it go.

Because my love isn't free,
It comes at a cost:
A part of my heart
For each lover lost.

It sounds dramatic,
A bit overdone.
But that's the bite of love
The price of losing someone.

My love doesn't fight,
It sits and remembers.
My love doesn't ignite,
It's just flameless embers.


Clearly I'm feeling like a big, bright ball of sunshit.  It's two in the morning, I have class tomorrow, and I just want a giant cheeseburger.
I'm sorry for being so sappy, I really do have a relatively good opinion of myself.  I just can't seem to get anyone to think I'm good enough to keep around and it's damn frustrating.  I wish I could stop trying, but I'm one of those pushy never-give-up bitches.  Let's get a round of applause for my gene pool when it comes to those traits.
Have a smashing night, and a blessed day.

The Rules of Existing

I'm in love with you.
I'm in love with you and you don't even care that I exist   I tried to be friends with benefits, I tried to be just friends, and now these dreams that I have of us...  They tell me that I still see you in my future.  I want so badly to hang on to you, because when you love someone you never want to give them up, but I've degraded myself for you so much already.
You don't even know and if you did you wouldn't care.  It hurts, it's so fucking painful and it makes me feel so lonely.  I feel like if I can't make you love me back, how can I ever expect to get it from someone else?
I would be anything you wanted me to be.  Older, younger, wilder, smarter.  I'd do anything for you and we don't even talk more than once a week anymore.
I need to keep contact with you, but I can't detach myself.  I thought I was okay, I didn't think being "just friends" would bother me.  You've made me your booty call, and part of me thinks that's fine!
I just don't want to be alone anymore, and I feel like you're the one person who should make that better, not worse.

Dirty socks and other laundry I'd like to air

So I'm about to talk about something really personal, awkward, and embarrassing.  Even more than usual.
But first, I'd like to build it up and chat a little bit about some of the unconventional things my first semester of college has taught me:
1) Roommates aren't meant to share everything.
I'm very good friends with my roommate, we even chose to room together.  We party together, share food, and talk to each other about mostly everything.  However, I made the mistake of not putting my foot down about a guy I liked, and she ended up sleeping with him.  That kind of sharing isn't okay.  Share the fact he's off limits, don't share his dick.
2) You're going to have a shit ton of exams.
Study for one at a time. You will kill yourself trying to study a week ahead of time, keep up with the class, but don't spend every night making flash cards.
3) Laundry is expensive!
I spend about $20 on laundry every month and yet I just can't seem to get my socks as clean as my mom did...
4) Put a damn condom on.  Please!
Everyone tells you this, basically from the time you learn about sex.  You nod your head, swear you'll never go without, and then end up doing it anyways.  In fact, even as I write this I know that whoever is reading this will, at some point, decide against a condom.  You really won't realize how important they are until you have a pregnancy or STI scare.  Hopefully it'll just be a scare and not too late.

And that brings me to number five.  Oh, number five...you shitty little asshat.
A little over a week ago I went to a frat date night as a favor for my friend.  Since most of the pledges and dates weren't 21 we pregamed before going to a club, which was fun.  After a while my friend and I ditched our dates and began to really have a good time.
A screwdriver, shot, and 1/2 pitcher of beer later, I'm open minded enough to dance with just about anyone.  When one of my lovely dance partners kisses me on the lips I don't think much of it, except for the fact that I wasn't into him enough for anything but dancing.  I didn't pay much attention then, but I should have taken a good look at the giant cold sore on his freaking lip.
Herpes.
I realized yesterday that I'd been exposed and I was at the doctors less than 24 hours later, and that's where I got my (possibly) most important lesson.
Yeah, herpes is a shitty thing to have, but it's not that big of a deal.  Apparently 1 in 6 people have it, although most don't break out.  The doctor told me that I hadn't broken out yet, so I wouldn't, but that it was unnecessary to do a test because I most likely had been exposed to it at one point or another.  I paid $15 so a doctor could tell me that basically "[I've] probably got this, but so does everyone else."

Needless to say, kissing strangers has officially been taken off of my to-do list and I'll be paying a lot more attention to cold sores, drunk or not.
Learn from me.

A Fucking Poem

I don't want to write a fucking poem,
A lyric verse of my life woes.
Why write myself a poem,
When I know how the freaking story goes?

It's all a great big bore,
And then a great big sob,
"Nothing ever goes my way,"
I say as a sniveling slob.

I only write when I'm sad,
And occasionally when I'm pissed.
Each time it's a foolish rhyme
Dealing with how not often i get kissed.

I'd tell myself "SUCK IT UP,"
But I say that all the time
Never learned to take advice,
So that little voice should just resign.

I was feeling angsty when I wrote this, can ya tell?

The Beginners Guide to Recognizing Destructive Behavior

I promised myself that if you didn't respond after ten (giving you a full 11 hours to come up with a definite answer & even more just to think about it) that I was done.  That's it, send the ship, burn the letter, call the president, the end.
You responded at 10:04

Now do I stick to my promise, or do I give in to four damn minutes.
---
I gave in.

Typical.

Calling All Cops

* Put your iTunes/Winamp/WMP on shuffle.
* Use the song title as the answer to the question.

1. How does the world see me? Echo Park by Ximena Sariana

2. Will I have a happy life? Rich Kids by New Medicine 

3. What do my friends really think of me? Smack Down by Thousand Foot Krutch
(thanks guys, lol).

4. Do people secretly lust after me? Love You Much Better by The Hush Sound
(I'll take that as a YES!)

5. How can I make myself happy? Cry When You Get Older by Robyn

6. What should I do with my life? Catch Me If You Can by Gym Class Heroes
(fuck you, ipod, you'll never make me run.  Especially as a profession!)

7. Will I ever have children? Birthday Cake by Rihanna

8. What is some good advice for me? I Want it That Way by Backstreet Boys
(I think the best advice is probably just to take these guys off my playlist...)

9. How will I be remembered? Feelings Show by Colbie Caillat

10. What is my signature dancing song? Fire by Ingrid Michaelson 

11. What do I think my current theme song is? Lonely Won't Come Around by Crystal Bowersox
(Because it's already moved in, brought it's shit & made itself comfortable.)

12. What does everyone else think my current theme song is? Strong Enough by Kina Grannis

13. What song will play at my funeral? Don't Rain On My Parade by Glee Cast

14. What type of men do I like? Toxic by Britney Spears

15. What is my day tomorrow going to be like? My Vietnam by Pink
(I don't know how to take that.  Fight the war or stay in my room all day?)

16. Will I ever have love again? Handle Me by Robyn
(well then.)

17. What type of sex life do I have? Love Song by Meg & Dia

18. What song would be the title of my own porno movie? Journal of Ardency by Class Actress

19. How does the person I like feel about me? Don't Want You Back (Fuck It) by Eamon
(No need to be rude about it, ipod, I think I already had a clue thankyouverymuch.)

20. What will I title this post? Calling All Cops by Motion City Soundtrack


So maybe my ipod could tell you something I couldn't today.  I just remembered doing these all the time on the old beloved Myspace and decided to do a throwback ;)  I've been pretty busy lately by getting ready for school and spending all the time I can with friends and family.  I've been in a weird mood the past few days where anything can just push me off the edge.  I just keep trying to surround myself with people who love me unconditionally and trying to forget those who don't.  
I read something the other day that said 90% of the time you forgive someone simple because you want to keep them in your life.  I felt it was kind of obvious but it hit a sore spot.  I just need to stop caring about people who don't care about me.  It's harder than it sounds.

Here's a little playlist of the songs I could find, it doesn't have all my favorites, but it's all little something :)
http://pl.st/p/23564429579

Oh, Dear God

I read the last three things I'd posted and felt the need to punch myself in the face.  The "no money no worries" was cute, a little all over the place, but funny, "girl of the summer" was my drinking game face, and "brokenhearted bitch" was just more like wining bitch.
Why does the prospect of being in a relationship or having any sort of romance turn me into a complete asshat?  It's like I constantly need to make a fool out of myself or something!  I don't know why I can't be like one of those cool Angelina Jolie characters who never gives a fuck and doesn't feel the need to over share any emotions.  I suppose that has something to do with my genetics or the childhood trauma of growing up, but I don't know how anyone else can bear to listen to me when I can't even listen to myself.
The way I see it I have two options.
I can make flow charts and pro's and con's and write until I have carpal tunnel in my wrist to get my thoughts together and talk to this guy about where we stand and emotions and basically just a (hopefully) less wordy version of my last post.
Or I can tell him to move it or loose it and (most likely) cut my losses, get my shit together and find someone new in college.

Fucking A, I'll probably choose the first one.
This is why I never have a boyfriend.  A guy seems me, he likes me, then he gets to know me and runs for the hills.  I'm a fucking desperate housewife in the making.

Brokenhearted Bitches

I want you to want me.  Over and over I keep hearing, "if he's not making any effort, he's not worth it."  Somehow in my head that translates to, "if he's not making any effort, you're not worth it."  I'm so tired of guessing and playing the dating game, that's why I wanted to hang up my fuck-me heels and start buying cats months ago.  One friend told me I'm making myself too available.  BUT I AM TOO AVAILABLE!  Why do I have to pretend to be something I'm not?
If you like me, you'll spend time with me.  You'll make the effort to talk to me and be with me while I'm in college.  If me leaving doesn't work out, then it doesn't work out!  But how can you decide the movie is going to suck when you haven't even seen the trailer?  You told me you didn't think I'd like you, you didn't think we'd have anything to talk about, and now you don't think the college commute is going to work.  Give me the the chance to prove you wrong, yet again.
You said you'd try.
But just last night I got asked out,  I got asked if I'm single.  I don't even know how to respond!  When other guys start showering me with the compliments I never get from you, it hurts.  I know they're just trying to get in my pants, it's obvious.  At least I know what the fuck they're up to.  You're hiding in the bushes giving me no answers, just flying by the seat of your pants, "you'll see me when you see me."
Damn it, if I'm going to try, then I'm going to go all out!  I'm not going to hold back, I'm going to give you my all and I expect the same.  Why pretend to try, waste my time, and waste me going out on dates with any new guys I might meet?  Is that some male form of pleasure?  Personally, I prefer shopping, but if you're into brokenhearted bitches I guess I get that.
I'm just tired of laying in bed, asking myself questions that only you can answer.  I want to have that easy conversation with you again, I want to take all this pressure off, but I can't do it alone.  I've learned from experience that liking someone and dating someone is never easy (even though I think it should be), and because of that I haven't given up on you yet.  So please don't give up on me.

 

Girl of The Summer

Will we talk about if we're exclusive or not?  Will we talk about if we're going to keep seeing each other when I go to college?  In fact, will we talk at all when we're together or will we just keep having sex and making small talk and pretending to watch movies, and then having sex?
I like you,
but I could like you more.
I guess for right now I'll just keep drinking and spilling my secrets onto the internet in a grammatical fashion.  Score one for liquor and poor judgement.

Everyone tells me to trust my gut, but then I doubt my trust and trust my doubt, then I'm lost.  I just want to take things as they are, but then what are they?  I don't want to over-think!  I just want to be.
I need to be brave, to ask, to talk.  Then I wonder, shouldn't talk come easy?  But I don't see you as my forever, so I shouldn't worry...right?  If you're worth it you'll stay.  You'll be all the right reasons.  And if you're not, then you'll go.  They all do eventually.
But, God, I don't want to look at you later and cry.  Cry for knowing that you were a bad idea.  I don't want that anymore, I hope I've learned.
How do you learn but from experience?  In my short time I've experienced a lot of romantic mishaps.  A lot of royal fuck ups and fucking don'ts.  I've never wanted to be that girl, the easy one.  I prey you don't see me that way.
But how do you see me?  I'm so scared to ask.  I don't want to be just another girl of the summer.  Please think I'm worth it.  I think of all the things I want to say to you when I'm alone, but when we're together, I'm quiet.  WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

I don't want to waste time thinking about you, writing about you, not making dates because of you, if you aren't interested.  If I'm an easy fuck.
How do you stop fucking and start making love?  You were my first, I don't know the difference.  Or is that something that comes natural?  Usually the things that your'e just supposed to know, I don't.  That's part of why I'm unique, why I'm funny, and interesting.  I hope you see that in me.  It's not that hard.  I'm pretty, I promise.  I wish I didn't doubt myself.
It makes me angry, and I want to take it out on you, but you're great.  You don't deserve all my hurt and anger.  You weren't the one who cut me up before.  You didn't force me into blow jobs and self inflicted hate.  I want to blame you, but I know better.
I know better.

I know better.
Do you?

No Money, No Worries, & A Cherry for Your Trouble

Well, I didn't post at all in May because I was pretty busy wearing that mortar board cap they require graduates to buy and actually wear during the ceremony.  You see, graduating isn't all about listening to speeches and walking down an aisle to take your seat.  No, it's about sending out announcements, planning a party, getting your grades in order, determining your last day, etc, etc.
I also didn't post in May, because believe it or not, I'm one boring broad.  Taking the time to turn my mundane everyday events into witty posts is exhausting, for me to write & you to read.
However, a few things of interest have happened lately, and I feel the need to share them with the ever present cyber-space.  A lovely thing with mo judgments, no pity, and most of the time no response, is just the kind of listener I need.

I found out last Wednesday that the current business I work for closed.  Picture me, getting ready for work the night before, taking my shower, figuring out what to wear (pretty open dress code), setting my clock for the time I need to wake up, only to realize the next morning that it's all for naught.  Not only would I not be going into work that day, but I wouldn't be going into work ever again.  It's not the kind of thing you want to hear over a bowl of cheery-o's.
No notice.  Worse, no pay.  As in my last week of pay, about a 100 dollars, will be forever in my boss's (boss'?) pocket.  Bankrupt.
Now, I don't know about you, but if I'm going bankrupt I'm well aware of it way before the day before it happens.
Since there is nothing I can do to a) get my job back, or b) get my money back, I'm going to leave it at this.  It was a great first job, it got me though senior year & paid for Lucy (my car) to run all over the place, as well as get odds and ends fixed.
I made friends, and I managed to get a good reference.
The End.


Now, I wonder how much of my other new & ever-so-exciting news I should share.  I've really poured my heart out on here before, and I worry that one day someone who knows me will come across this page and literally shit a brick.  I'm always hesitant of new things, mostly because I don't want to shout out how cool my new toy is to the entire world, only to have it embarrassingly break three seconds later.  I don't want to say "I met a boy" only to have the whole thing fade away within a week.  Then I have to face my misplaced excitement and this post and decide what level of stupidity I was on before I check back in to the real world.   Or something between me and him might happen, then I'll want to post on here about it, but it would feel all out of the blue due to a lack of background story.  And lets be honest, when you have something awesome to share, who wants to waste time with a shitty background story??
So, I met a guy.  He's different, and I like it.  Different from any other guy I've ever liked, and I think better.

*Also, the lack of trouble I've given my parents in school and with grades (plus the fact I've never snuck out & don't really party), I've made up for with my choice of men.  I did a number with the 23 year old ex-drug addict, but this one is a cherry on top.
That's all for now.

Bossman

My boss is pretty abrasive at times, and the other day he made this statement that I just have to share. It was to heartless and priceless at the same time. Keep in mind that my boss has two young kids of his own.

"If my kid was ugly, I'd tell it! Like sorry, you look like ass...Get back in the house. Trust me, ugly people know they're ugly."

He's an odd duck, isn't he? I guess some people appreciate that kind of thing? lol

Good Days and Bad Habits

I was recently laying in bed, lounging around, when this chilling thought occurred to me. When I graduate and head off to college, my life is literally going to drastically change. I'll have classes and actual homework (my current schooling doesn't provide this-I'd be more ecstatic if I thought a lack of education would give me an upper hand...which it obviously doesn't) and I'll have to clean up my own messes and force myself to do things. From this point on it's a non-stop train into adulthood and I'm honestly trying not to dig my heels into the ground.
It's not that I don't think I'll do well, I do. It's just that I see my next few years as a montage of school work, side job, a real job, a real boyfriend, (maybe some heartbreak or bad events), church, upstanding citizen shit, settling down in one place, and fucking growing up. It's scary!

I'm sure it's not all I'm making it out to be, and there will still be days where I lay in bed all day and do nothing more than have a hot date with my labtop. I'll make lots of bad food until I figure out how to cook like a proper human (I feel like a class should be involved), talk to myself in the mirror (occasionally interviewed by Oprah), and take shit from my parents because they love me unconditionally.
I just feel like free time is running short and I need to make up for my impending adulthood by being irrevocably lazy.
I'm undoubtedly my own worse enemy.


confession for the day:
I'm currently reading 7 books right now. I get part way though & then change it up. It's a pretty bad habit.

At least I don't trace, right?

These are just a few pieces of art I've done that I wanted to share because it makes me feel cool. The first one is a drawing that I uploaded to my computer and accidentally painted black (which, obviously, made it 100x better), the second one is a painting I'm going to do soon, and the third is a painting I did just the other day.
I wish I could claim these for sure, but I have to admit that none of these came out of my head, the internet inspired them. But hey, they're still admirable ;)

Sunday driving on Tuesday

I drive like an asshole. It's not on purpose (at least most of the time), it just comes naturally.
I think it also comes from a general lack of knowledge on "how" to drive. I'm the one that's like "Is it legal to turn here? Well, I've got to go somewhere..." andddd I'm turning.
I go at least 5 miles above the speed limit, and for God's sake don't break going DOWN the damn mountain, you need that momentum to get up the next one!
I try to be considerate, but I've got to be honest, it just doesn't happen. Usually when I'm in my car, it's because I need to go somewhere, and FAST as I'm usually about five minutes late. So yeah, I drive like an asshole when people are out taking their Sunday drives on a Tuesday before I go to work.
I can proudly say that I've only flicked someone off once and it was because I was trying to pass them (in a passing lane, I'm not THAT bad you know), and they took it upon themselves to occupy both of the stinking lanes!! I was beside myself at such idiocracy.
I also can't help but blame a little, tiny, itty bitty, part of this mentality on my parents.

Me: Dad! Why aren't you using your blinker??
Dad: Fuckers behind me don't need to know what I'm doing!

Oh, the beauty of it.

Life in the tip jar

I've been struggling with this very common writers block called "laziness." It effects my ability to string together anything coherent enough to write. For your information, yes, it's still in effect, so you'll just have to muddle through this with me:) Also, I just finished watching a Harry Potter movie so as I'm typing it's in a British accent, I do believe that will not help things along quite nicely at all.

I'd like to start by saying that I hate the last few posts I put up, they're all me being whiny bitch crazy girl. I've made the conscious decision to not have any guys in my life for a while as it's apparent they make me bat shit insane. The fact that I don't know what I want proves that I really shouldn't be wanting anything at all. Of course, that doesn't mean that sometimes late at night I don't feel the need for a nice, tall, handsome stranger to come and sweep me off my hopeless size 8 feet
That, however, will not happen unless I'm literally dreaming.
Or if I've been sucked into an alternate universe.
Or if I get a genie in a bottle (but not Christina Aguilera, someone less pretty).

ANYWAYS

the point that I'm really going to hit on for this post is my job as a waitress. I know I talk about it a lot and my friends probably hate me for it, but it does take up a pretty big presence in my life. Sometimes it's truly great, I get to laugh with my "co-workers" and meet some really wacky people, and then sometimes I get bitched at by my boss just because he's cranky, and occasionally people make high demands and then leave a shitty tip.
I don't make much, but I'd say I've gotten a lot of experience. I'm ashamed to say I didn't know how to make tea before I started working. I didn't know that you couldn't mix old ketchup with new ketchup (whoops). I didn't know that when you get your straw paper all over the damn place some poor girl has to pick it up because it's the herpes of trash. It seems to never go away.
I never thought about how when you pick up two people's drinks you better be damn sure whose drink is whose when you bring them back. I never wondered who had to meticulously make those little dressing cups that you so easily pour over your salads.

Yeah, I'm only making 3 something an hour, and I do a lot of work. So when you make me bring your obnoxious child three different drinks until one suits, or you ask a million questions I have to pretend to have the answer to, or when I have to clean up the unbelievable mess you left behind you, a tip would be appreciated.
I know it's a pain and you feel like you're throwing hard earned money away, but I'm working hard too. Just a tip on tipping. It's polite and it will greatly improve my view upon your character.

Also, I know when you call in a pick up or a delivery order you want a time to go by, but I'm not a fucking psychic. I have about as much of a clue as you do. When you make me give you a time, I'm not lying, but I'm sure as heck guessing. I know it won't stop you from doing so, but be sure to take the time lightly because it's not a sure thing. Unlike my smile ;D

I feel the need to end this post with a few confessions since it's been a while since I've had to do any of these:

1) tomorrow is my mom's birthday and I haven't even gotten her a card (awful, I know! But it's so hard when she buys herself stuff all the time, what's left to get her???)
2) I gave a guy my phone number just for shits and giggles and I'll admit to being a little hurt that I never got a response.
3) I have 44 or so school days left of my high school career
4) I killed my fourth fish the other day. He lived to be a little over a year old, but still. I'm a bad fish mommy... RIP Mr. Richards.
5) I'm procrastinating my homework by writing this post right now.

Violence solves EVERYTHING.

I don't want you, but I don't want you with anyone else.
That's not fair of me,
But apparently my heart does't give a shit.

There's a sixteen year age difference between this other lady and me, I'm curious how the fuck that even makes sense.

I don't want to care. I'm making every effort not to.
But when I see shit like that and it makes me angry, I just can't help myself.
I want to punch you in the gut.
and then step on your toes.
and then grab you by the ear and toss you into a big pile of snow or mud.

And your lovely lady can say that I fucked up, but no, really it was you. You're the one that couldn't be more than friends and less than dating.
So fuck you, fucking her. It's disgusting.

I think I can still be your friend, though.

I just need to take a breather. Or hit you. Then I think I'll be okay again.
Or you two could break up and we can go back to being normal until you find a new, equally disgusting fuck-buddy.

A Woman Scorned...

Well, I finally got that kick in the ass that I seem to have needed.
About a week ago my ex texted me for the first time in forever, and I'm not going to lie, I thought he wanted to be friends again. Which would mean sexytimeeeeeee. Whoo, super exciting, right??

Long story short, we talked a little bit during the week, and I asked him out for lunch (so that it would hopefully lack that "date" feel) and got no reply. I let this settle for about three days of no talk, before I gave in and called. I simply wanted to clear the air and make sure we were on the same page.
We were not, we were so very, very not.
This is a toned down version of how the first phone call went:
Him: hello? Who's this?
me: Hey, Brandon-
Him: Who is this?
Me: Deliliah but I-
Him: What do you want?
Me: ...Well if you've deleted my number then I guess you've answered my question.
Him: What? No, you don't fucking call and then hang up like that, what's your damn question?
Me: (stumbling over my words) I called to see.. to know if you wanted to be friends, but I'm guessing-
Him: Look, spit it the fuck out, I'm getting off work and I can barely fucking hear you, so speak up.
Me: Fine, I'll call you on my house phone so that you can hear me
Him: Well hurry up then


I need you to have this picture in your head: Think of me as a mouse with a weird flower of some sort, and I'm trying to give it to this mean house cat so that it'll be nice to me, and not try to bite my head off. Then think of me trying to give that cat some cheese, lint, silver, or anything that would mean something to me, to try and win it over. It doesn't care though, it simply wants to hurt me still.

Now, with that in mine, it's obvious that I should've left it alone, but I'd done NOTHING to deserve that treatment so I was mad. Very mad (still am).
But in one moment of sanity I wonder if he just had a bad day and that's what it's all about, so I send a text: "look, I had a bad day today too. If that's what the issue is we can swap fuckups, but you have to change from an ogre back into that charming guy I once knew, haha."
My lame attempt at being nice/funny, and trying to smooth things over even though at this point I'm simply beating a dead horse. This is the mouse's last nice thing it owns, it's pride, and it's giving it up.

To no avail. Because when my attempt at nicety fails to get any sort of response, not even a "my day was fine, I simply don't like you." Then it was on. Why did he even bother contacting me if he was just going to be a jerk? He had no reason to talk to me like that, or treat me like that! We break up and he turns into a giant shit storm while I try to be nice and just take the heat? No. I'm done with that.

So I decided to do the second most devious thing I'd done all night: repeatedly call his cell phone until he picked up. I really didn't know what to say (which became obvious once he did pick up) I just wanted to piss him off.
First time he answered I said what popped into my head: Oh, look who knows how to answer the fucking phone. At that point he hung up on me, apparently he's the only one allowed to be a dickface.
Now I'm in blind anger and I don't know how to retaliate, so I continue to call, again, just to piss him off. This time he answers with a cheery message:
"Don't you ever fucking do that to my phone again, that is bullshit. You should be lucky I even picked up this phone. If you ever do that again, you're going to hope that you loose this fucking number. I was taking a fucking shower and couldn't answer the first time, [insert lame excuses here.]"



Now, I might be in the wrong here.
You may read this and think "wow, that girl just couldn't take a hint" but it's not like it was one-sided (at first). I was doing just fine without him, and then HE contacted ME. I didn't even HAVE his phone number!
But if you give it to me, well it's like bating a fish, I'm going to at least nibble and see what's up. I'm a good, nice person, and there really isn't an ex that I'm not friends with. Until now.
I mean, he practically has my virginity, I'm going to remember his stupid face and name forever and he can't even spare ten minutes to treat me with any hint of the respect he used to.
The most ironic thing is that he literally just fucked himself out of having a fuck-buddy, because that's all I wanted. I have to truly thank him, though, for making sure that that will NEVER cross my mind again. Being done with him is a relief!

I realize now that the high road has gotten me nowhere but yelled at and belittled. So now I'm not playing fair, I'm going to fuck with him until I get bored, because he of all people in this world, deserves it.
It's hard to think of crazy-ex-girlfriend gimmicks that are legal and don't include vandalism or breaking in, but I've managed.
Thanks to him being so upset at the repeat phone call situation, his name and number are on my facebook, with the instructions to "call until he blocks you."
And I'm making posters. We live in a small town, he's going to shit when he sees his face on paper with the words: Womanizer asshole, be aware! all over town.
Treat me like I'm nothing? I'll do everything in my power to prove I'm not:)


moral of the story: Just because you act like a big dick, doesn't mean you have one.

Walk of Shame

That awkward moment when you have to tell your gynocologist what your vagina has been up to for the past few months...

The Only Way?

Is it bad that at 18 I've already gotten to the point where I believe that there is just no hope for a relationship to work, or is it a good thing? Is it possible that with this mindset I'll actually save myself some heartache, or will I just become a cranky love-starved cynic?
Why does it seem that the key to being happy just has to involve other people. Friends, family, or lovers, it really doesn't matter. That's why it is so disappointing when friends and family aren't enough, and then when I find someone else I want to be with, all I am is miserable about it.
I understand that if happiness was easy to obtain it wouldn't be as desirable, but damn.

And I am not unhappy. I feel the need to stress that. I'm not some sad little girl who sits alone all day, every day. I like who I am (whoever that is..lol). I just don't have anything in my life to worry about right now, and it's possible that's why I put all this focus on needing a "relationship" of some sort.
So with that in mind I think semi-subconsciously fill my plate with things to do: school, college scholarships, work, drama club, pageant, national honor society, friends, family. I'm even thinking about trying to get a second job and I'm going to sign up at the local wellness center so I can start working out after school. You would think that I would be so busy that I wouldn't have a spare second to consider bringing one more thing into my life.
But I see these movies and T.V. shows, and I read these books and these couples are happy. They're in love. And I can't relate, I can't even really be happy for them. All I can think is fuck you.
And that's really sad.


Wow, I started this post with the intention of being quirky and funny about how much I think I need someone but I really don't, and it's turned into a bit of a mess. I don't mean to be so confusing about what I want, but if you think reading this is confusing, imagine what's going on in my head. That's why I just resign myself to not wanting any of it. There is nothing I desire more than to be able to completely wash my hands of love. I want things to be simple, and this seems to be the only way. I can't expect some equally messed-up guy to fix me when I can't even fix myself. I've found out the hard way that just doesn't work, it only makes everything worse.



Confession for the day? I'm sad, and I can't figure out how to fix it. I'm open to suggestions.

Complaints and Grievances/Happy, Hopeful, Happy

Last year I wrote about how anti-resolutions I am, and I decided that the only thing I wanted for 2011 was just to love myself and all of the fucked up/great decisions I would make.
And make them I did.
It wasn't a tough year, or a bad one. It was just really, really, fast. I feel like a lot of things happened, and nothing happened at the same time. I learned a lot in 2011, and sometimes I consider what I would do if I had the opportunity to not sorta-kinda-have-maybe-sex with a douche or stop being so teenage-loudmouth-bitchy to my mom, but then I remember that I wouldn't change a thing. It doesn't mean I won't repeat the same mistakes this year (ohlordIhopenot), but now they'll have a "Oh, wait! I've been here once before, and there is, I REPEAT, there IS light at the end of the tunnel!" feel to them.

This year I'll be going to college at WVU and no doubt be learning things inside and outside of the classroom. I'll make a whole new group of friends, and maybe loose some of the few I have now. Maybe I can avoid falling hopelessly in love for another year, but nontheless manage to get fucked over by someone tall, dark, and handsome.
I'll be spending my very last days in high school and end up quitting my very first job (I won't be able to keep it once I move to college). It'll no doubt be a very wild and emotional ride that I can't wait for. Well, actually it can take its time. I'm nervous.

To end this lovely post I'd like to list just a few of my accomplishments/useful things I've learned this year:
-Got accepted into three colleges
-Got my license and a car (I named her Lucy, she's a 1994 Chrysler Concorde and I love her).
-Got my first job! (Waitress).
-Found a really sweet guy.
-Found out really sweet guys can still be assholes when they're told "no."
-Kissed a long time friend, realized everyone was right in keeping us apart.
-Started hard-core saving for a trip to Europe.
-Made the grown-up decision of not going to my Dream College because I would be in debt until I was 65.
-Tried weed for the very first time.
-Learned not to nascar-pass schoolbuses in the pouring rain.
-Discovered the glory of Tumblr.
-Made the conscious decision to not have any males in my life at the moment (well, besides my daddy-o).
-Turned 18 and still haven't bought a lottery ticket or gone to a club. (*note added 3/12/12, I went to the strip club with a few friends, it wasn't all that. Interesting experience however..)
-Accepted life on life's terms. Things aren't always fair, but it doesn't matter, the world will always soldier on; I should follow it's example and maybe set one of my own.