Him

Yes, the same boy. I just thought I'd comment on how sweet he is. How perfect he can be. I don't know what I'd do without him right now....he's my best friend who listens to me, and yet flirts with me the next minute. He's adorable, yet gorgeous, and he doesn't even know it. And it's so beautiful when the boy smiles.....he makes me happy without even trying. =D

(And I know he's gonna read this....lol. Here's to you...)

Not Your Ordinary Fairy-tale

You always read about Jane. You always watch her on the big screen or observe her daily life on her sitcom every thursday night. She lives out her surprisingly not-so-normal life with a certain flair that anyone would kill to have. She makes the jokes, she wears the shoes (stillettos..oh yeah) and she even drives the kind of car they always make commercials about. Jane has everything - and in the end, she always gets the guy. And she lives happily ever after. Whether this episode or flick is a tear-jerker or a laugh-out-loud comedy, Jane comes out on top. What I would like to know is, who is Jane, does she really exist, and where does she get her shoes??

Irrelevent of the fact that I'm a mere sixteen years of age, I am a woman. And like most other women, I want to have that fabulous life of luxury and splendor too - the car, the boy, the outfit, and yet I know, too, that even if, once I had attained all that, things would not be perfect.

There are perfect things in the world. Ben and Jerry's ice cream for instance. That's good shit right there. Bubble baths with a rubber duckie. McDonalds cappucinos and a warm fireplace in the dead of winter. A lazy summer sunset, and fireflies afterwards. Perfect things. There are even perfect moments. Getting your hair to look just the right way. Landing that job interview. Looking at the night sky and spotting a shooting star. The moment he took your hand in his. Perfect moments. And yet, that is all they are, moments.

Some are lucky enough to have en extended series of perfect moments that can last hours, days, weeks. Snaps for them. It is in those days that they feel like Cinderella, who got what she wanted, and lived her perfect fairy-tale life. They feel complete. But not forever.

So what I want is the real story, not some Hollywood-madeup scam. I want a story of a real woman, with real problems, followed by real happiness.....inevitably followed by let downs and depression. It happens to everyone. I'm sure Prince Charming forgot him and Cinderella's anniversary, and instead went out jousting with the guys. I'm sure she spilled wine on her evening gown, and broke the heel off of her designer sandal. So let's hear a story about that girl. Not Jane, everyone's bored of her. Let's hear Polly's story, of a strong woman, who didn't get things perfect, but close, with real problems and situations of a real woman.

Because, in reality, Polly doesn't live happily ever after - that's too much to ask for. No, she simply lived. And that could quite possibly be the ending we're all striving for after all. To live.

Happy Christmas

First of all, I would like to extend a merry Christmahannakwanza to all my fellow readers. (a grand total of prolly 7 people.) The holiday season is quite spectacular indeed with mistletoe and holly and snowmen and the scent of cinnamon floating about. It is - normally - a happy time of year.

The past few days have been interesting for me. Lots of arguments with The mom and jokes with The dad and hanging out with friends. No school, of course, is the highlight of it all, the downside, for me at least, is having to go into work and deal with people.

Let me just say that I used to love Christmas. Really. As in, all out, honest and true, diehard Christmas fan: that was me. I loved everything about it - the bustle of anxious people, shopping for their loved ones, the excitement of the annual Christmas tree decorating, holiday songs and movies alike, and even though church can be boring, I seem to find extra interest in the Christmas stories there too. But see, this year was different. I did not have the over-the-top love for the 25th of December. Why? Because.......I got a job where I have to deal with people, and I was quick to realize that though it may seem to bring out the best in people, in some, this time of year brings people back to their barbaric state, with angry customers and stingy scavengers that will do anything to get what they want. At first I was bothered, but after awhile, I found myself resorting to the mutterings of "Go find your own damn sweater" "It's not my fault that we don't have the specific shade of red you are looking for" and "I don't really care about whether or not you need to exchange this, you should've thought about whether it would look right or not before you bought it". But whatever.

I'm good now. And Christmas was good. Staying with the family for 10 hours can ultimately suck, but hey, what can you do......honestly.

So yes. Happy Christmas. Too bad there's no snow......

Stuck - how grand

So...yeah. Friday night. 11 o'clock. Sitting at home. Writing blogs. Hmmmmm.....uh yeah. I'm totally not cool with it, but I guess that's what happens when you piss The parents off...especially The mom. Actually, when you piss The dad off, it IS worse....but The dad is never around to piss off, it's always The mom.

(Why do I capitalize "the" when it's in front of The parents, but never the "mom" or the "dad" part? Because.....they earned that title out of my frustration and anger...but they do not get the respectful capitalization of their name...bah. It's my mini rebellion, go ahead, point and laugh.)

But anyways, on totally opposite matters than that of The parents and their overprotective overreactive ways.......Christmas is soon. Like, real soon. As in, today is the 15th.....so, 10 days..and you know what? I haven't done ANY of my shopping....AT ALL. Not like I haven't thought about what I'm getting everyone. Because I have...I know exactly what I'm getting 4 of the people on my list. There are 3 others that I'm not sure about...and one of them..well, I have ideas, but I'm just not sure...I don't know. I always seem to figure something out in the end though so I'm putting all my faith into that.

I wonder if it'll snow. Because I kinda want it to..and I mean, I know I'm not the only one, I'm sure lots of people want it to snow for Christmas day, but you know.....look at it outside! It's in the freakin 50's..and 60's...and it's kinda depressing.

You know what's really depressing (beyond the whole no snow and that i have nothing better but to write long blogs on a friday night) I want to see a certain someone right now and I can't...because according to The mom, I "screwed up"...yeah right. I'm doing what I want, and no one can stop me, The mom sure hasn't. But I want to see him....

Maybe tomorrow......I don't know. This weekend is crazy though. Band, work, studying for exams - I hate stress. And I hate life. And I hate broccoli. But I like it with melted cheese.

Oh well, maybe I'll call him or he'll call me or text or something.......argg. I just hate today.

First I was happy, then I was sad, then I was frustrated, betrayed, and angry, then I was happy again, then I was really happy, then I was pissed off, then crying, back to extremely happy, and now insanely depressed. Talk about your moodswings. If only I felt like discussing everything online, it would explain a lot. Because really, my life isn't a soap opera. It may seem like it, but it's not. I'm just....very exuberant.

I'm hungry....

Switchblade Ending

crawling to my corner i cry
weeping only on the inside
mourning lost loves and dead goodbyes
why can't anything last

sucking air through screaming throats
thoughts tripping over those little notes-
reminders of what i used to have
so frustrated how my present is only haunted by past..

and maybe
turning around and pretending to be
something i'm not
might not
end up so bad after all-
i could fool them all..
it's better than a switchblade ending...

and i know this is best
better you than me i guess...

picking dried-over scabs
of old tired sores
never does any good, as everyone knows,
yet i find myself rubbing the blister raw..

forcing my smile to shine through
it may not seem fake to you
but of course, wasn't that my goal
to be like a clown, above all misery..

and maybe
turning around and pretending to be
something i'm not
might not
end up so bad after all-
i could fool then all..
it's better than a switchblade ending..

and i know this is best
better you than me i guess...

so let's pretend..
and not end
with a switchblade..

To you

I hate how you control me
With a simple fleeting glance
And a kind word after we fight.
I hate how I try to leave you -
Moving away from all our memories,
Abandoning all I thought was good,
Dismissing my instincts.
I hate how then, once I think my mind is set,
You smile
And I'm taken back 2 years in the past
When I first fell in love.
I hate how I am so tortured
So indescribingly mezmorized by you
Yet devastated knowing we can never be.
I hate how the fates tempt me,
Only to laugh in jest at my failed attempts
To win your heart again.
I hate how you're free of me
Because it's proving hard to rid my mind of your memory
After all these years.
I hate having to believe you when you say goodbye,
Because it truly could be the last goodbye....