Curbxstomp & Ramxpage

25 04 2008

Many of you read about me and Ramxpage’s crippling fight about a month ago; I was broken up about it and very recently we have gone back to our old ways:  extremely long pone calls, hanging out at her house and eating like cows.  You can see the difference in my attitude, because I’m listening to music again, my writing has improved, and I have initiative I feel great.  Or felt anyway.

I had a great school day–Daniel was in a good mood, HSAP was over, and I was working on a new story.  then I came home. That’s when everything becomes a suck fest.  I’m going to glaze over the events, because no one would reallly understand anyway.  So, about eightish–after I pampered myself (the norm:  shaving, lotion, eyebrows plucked and all the while I was listening to Vanessa Carlton)–I couldn’t take it anymore.  I threw on public appropriate clothes (I was wearing booty shorts and a cami, and my mom nearly had a heart attack and made me put on “decent” clothes) and took my phone outside.

While I was at the dinner table, before this, I was fighting tears.  So, when I was more relaxed, I called Rachel, because no one understands more than she does.  So I sat in my driveway and called her.  I was doing okay for the first half of the conversation, but when she was asking me what was wrong, I started to tell her and then all hell broke loose.  In other words, I burst into tears.

I sat in my driveway, crying for more than twenty minutes, telling her everything.  Unlike some people that I confide in, she was completely indignant on my behalf and made me feel a lot better, and I love her for it.  She was completely outraged and she made me laugh to make me feel better.  It’s great to have a best friend who doesn’t question all that you do.  And, she didn’t want me to wear my boots, and I did anyway, because some guy asked me to and I should have listened to her.  Because now, my ankles are bleeding and I’m in serious pain.  Rachel ALWAYS knows best.

You know someone’s your best friend when they defend you even if you are wrong, but when it’s all over they say, “Uh, do you even know what you’re talking about?”

“Hello, how are you?  I think that we should be best friends.”
-“Hello, Yellow” by Backseat Goodbye 

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Road Rage

27 03 2008

I honestly hate this state.  Nice landscape, beautiful downtown.  I hate the people.  I don’t hate ALL the people, just the majority of the RUDE JACKASSES wh don’t know how to drive.  They keep me in fear of driving on the roads of this state.

Driving on the highway with the family, going to meet the pops for lunch.  Some asshole nearly rearends my mother because he doesn’t know the rules of the raod and then, AND THEN, he flips my mom off.  With a kid in his front seat!  Never mind what he’s teaching his kid.  Who does he think he is flippig my mom off?

If we hadn’t been on 385, if we had been facing each other, feet on the ground, I would’ve broken his nose for disrespecting the woman who gave birth to me.  Hoenstly, half of this freaking state doesn’t know how to drive a damn car.  Pisses me off.  People get mad at YOU for what THEY did wrong. 

How gay is that?





An Unexcused Absence

17 03 2008

I’ve been gone awhile.  On account of having a pretty sucky one half of the month.  I’ve been so miserable that I just don’t get on to blog because I thought I might kill the computer.  Right now, I’m trying to keep myself calm so I don’t start crying.

I have had a pretty hard time.  All that goes on in my house nowadays is yelling, screaming, or crying.  All that goes on at school is uncomfortable silences and dirty glances.  All that happens in my classes is a secluded loneliness in the back of glass, my nose shoved into a paper or a book, trying to drown myself in school work so I don’t think about what my problems are.

I do have to say that my writing has become exceedingly better.  My characters have depth, my story has substance, and it’s completely satisfactory, if I do say so myself.  I tried to use my characters to keep my mind occupied and away from everything.  I got almost 20 pages in two days.  It’s been pretty amazing to be able to write again, like a weight has been lifted.  

You know how bad it gets when I start reading only Meg  Cabot books.  Yep, I have resigned myself to teen novels written by Meg Cabot.  She has to be the most amazing writer in the history in forever.  She surpasses all the other writers I read, because it feels like Meg Cabot has been there forever…

I just wanted to use this last paragraph to wish the troops luck, and to let them know I’m praying for them. 

Have a good night, y’all. 





Overrated Anomaly

15 02 2008

As a 15 year old girl, I should be having a wild social life, chasing every boy that passes by, and drinking till I don’t remember anything.  I just don’t want to. 

Ramxpage and I are an anomaly.  While other girls have issues finding guys, we have issues getting rid of them.  No joke.  We also have issues picking winners, because, trust us, a lot of the guys we consider are…  Well, we have a list actually, and maybe we’ll post that.  For me, it seems the number one attraction involves  him doing drugs, because I have never dated a guy without a drug, alcohol, or sex problem.  Everyone has their problems, but my typical boyfriend just seems to have those.  My friends look at me with those “What the hell are you thinking?” looks and I’m just like, you know what?

My taste in guys sucks.  I usually end up in crappy relationships, and then I get my heart broken, and have a fight with my dad, because I won’t tell him what’s wrong.  I just won’t talk to my dad about breakups, I don’t care how upset I am.  It’s awkward, and I don’t want him running amok with a shotgun, looking for the poor unfortunate soul who had once dated me.

It’s like a big warning sign:

DO NOT DATE THIS GIRL IF YOU ARE COMPLETELY NORMAL AND DO NOT DO DRUGS AND ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 15!

That’s the other thing.  I won’t date anyone younger than me.  I’ve had offers, but I turned ’em down flat.  Sorry, not interested.  I can’t handle knowing that I’m older than the kid physically, but if I’m physically older, than I am mentally older too.  I am like a mother in my mindset.  I have the strange urge to protect everyone.  Have you ever seen the movie Raising Helen?  I am Joan Cusack’s character to a t, but I keep everything inside. 

I mean, what is up with me?  Why does my taste suck so badly?  It’s horrible, and I can’t really fix it, because it’s like ingrained on my skull.  I find the bad boys completely appealing.  Add in lip piercings and tattoos and I’m good.  I mean, I would marry the Punisher, for God’s sakes, just because he has that edge of danger.  Omg, I have problems. 

Anyway, I am an anomaly, and men are overrated.  Someone help me.





The First To End

13 01 2008

This post is about one of the proudest moments in my life.  I am like *this* close to being done with the first manuscript of my novel.  I am so freaking excited that I can’t wait to work on it…the only reason I’m not doing that at the moment is because I’m talking to y’all.  Rachel is only a week or so away from being the queen of England.  But, she told me she wasn’t going to read what made her the queen of England because it wasn’t part of our agreement.  Figures.

My manuscript so far is 192 pages without the long excerpt I had to edit, which is, at the moment, in a separate document, so with that…it’s over 200 pages, and then I have to write the last five or six chapters, which should take me like two days, depending on how much computer time I get.  Hamz likes reading my work, so she unwittingly deemed herself my critiquer.  She gets to check for my mistakes.  Maybe not.  I’ll probably have my mother do that and then Hamz can read it for leisure.  😀

I have discovered that the Moulin Rouge soundtrack is one of the most motivating.  It kept my attention on writing for over two hours.  Normally, I get on the computer, I write for maybe twenty minutes and then I get bored.  Then, I blog or mess around with my settings on my blog, get bored with that and play freecell until my dad tells me to get off the computer.  So, yeah.  I have the attention span of a goldfish with ADD, as I have told you before, and that only applies to my writing, because I can sit and read an entire book with only breaks for the bathroom.  Unlike Rampage, you have to tie her down, drug her, and give her enough food to feed an entire third world country to get her to read.  Just kidding, ramxpage. 

It also helps that yesterday my parents were talking about my brother and his band competition and how proud they were.  Great, yeah, I’m proud, too, but since no one seems to care about my writing, the only way to get attention is to finish the first draft, and have my mother edit it.  I think she will like it.  I know I love it and you know if you like it it has to be good.  😀  Wow, that can apply to so many things that I shouldn’t have said it.

Anyway, my manuscript is so close to being finished that I am on the verge of going psycho because I’m so EXCITED!  I’m going to Ramxpage’s hockey game tonight and chilling at her house for a while, so I’ll be put back a day or so in my writing.  Oh, well.  I’ll post about the results of the game, and how everything’s going tonight!





The Grating Feeling Of Irritation

11 01 2008

So, I wouldn’t say that today was the suckiest day of my life, but I will say that I didn’t have much fun. The yearbook staff outing was…fun?  I had fun, me and Katie and everyone, but then I got home and everything was kind of like, blah, because my mom had to go to work. 

It doesn’t help that I really had my life put into perspective for me.  My friend just had a family emergency, and seeing her break down broke my heart.  I had been previously freaking out about leaving my cell phone at home, and upon hearing Tinesha’s story, I felt really really bad.  I know you can’t compare one persons troubles to anothers because certain things affect people differently.

And to make things so much better, I realized that a lot of people think that I don’t like them, and apparently I give the impression that I don’t.  No comment from fluffy and hamz, please, I don’t know how much I can take.  What really irritated me was I was listening to Ramxpage talk about this and I didn’t know if she was mad or not.  I know it ticked me off because I am so tired of dealing with people.  Rachel is my best friend and some guy she hasn’t even known a year was telling her that he would yell at me for yelling at her.  I was yelling at her in joking and he didn’t know that, but it really really ticked  me off, because I didn’t know who he thought he was. 

I just don’t want to get into a fight with Ramxpage about all of this.  I am going over to her house supposedly on Sunday, and I don’t want to talk about any of this because it makes me mad and sad and it makes just want to curl up and do absolutely nothing.  It also doesn’t help that I keep getting lied to by people I thought I knew and I am just so sick of everything.

I need to go watch Moulin Rouge or I’m going to blow my top.





Define Teacher

3 01 2008

I haven’t really given thought to what teachers do.  Yes, they teach me 5/7 days of the week for a good portion of my day.  The tearm teacher is used…well, I don’t thik it’s used enough, or for the right things.  I was thinking during geometery about the three teachers I’ve had so far for my math course.  The same thing happened last year with my global studies class.  What makes a teacher a teacher?  What makes them a good teacher or a bad teacher?

Teachers, I believe are very limited.  They have course plans, lesson plans, they have to enforce the rules.  Admittedly, though, I feel better when they enforce the rules–the sensible rules, mind you  (we have this rule about inhuman hair color, and it makes me laugh because no one cares.  There are hairstyles that attract more attention than the kid with pink hair.)  The system doesn’t think highly of the teachers.  People can say whatever they want.  The system does not appreciate its employees, outside of the administrators.  So I wanted to make clear what I think about all of my teachers. 

Good Teachers:

We are not allowed to hug teachers anymore.  All of the teachers that decided to sleep with their students screwed the rest of us over.  (No pun intended.)  But, a good teacher is one that you know they would accept a hug if you wanted to give them one.  I have teachers that dont, won’t, and absolutely hate the students they teach.  A good teacher can give advice when you ask, because they’ve made mistakes, too, and they want to help you to do well.  They do everything they can to make you understand, even if it means they have to go over the time they had allotted for that section.  The good teachers respect you and your opinions, and when they see the mistakes you make, they take you aside, tell you the weight of your mistakes, and help you as best as they can.  They teach you about life, and you’ll most likely remember for the rest of your life.

Bad Teachers:

I had someone say something along the lines of there are no truly bad teachers.  I coulda smacked ’em.  But there are.  They aren’t necessarily the ones who barely teach you anything.  That can be bad for your grades, but those teachers show you more about life.  The bad teachers are only worried about how they will look in the administration’s eyes.  They want to get you to your exam, not caring about how much you are stressed, or how hard you struggle and yet you never succeed.  I understand it’s all about the level course you are taking, but the difficulty of a college clas…what the AP teahcers don’t understand is we are taking 6 different classes, we have a bed time, we eat, we have a fmaily.  These teachers expect us to dedicate our lives to their class and that isn’t fair, because those are the clases that may not help you in your major, your career.  The bad teachers could care less about the choices and mistakes you make.  That doesn’t really make them a teacher.  Not at all.

The world is not divided into good and bad people.  It’s black, white, and gray,  our world.  There are no absolutes, no final opinion on anything.  Like the classic debate of religion; of abortion and its ethical properties; of the death penalty and its ethical properties.  But, there’s nothing you can do but assert your opinion, which I just did.

Dedicated to:  Shields.