Small spider weave on a silver sleeve/Oh weave your grey web nearer

So. Today was Christmas. I was hoping it would snow, and it didn’t. Well, no, it did a tiny bit this evening.
I got loot. Including a gift card for Barnes & Noble, like last year—but that doesn’t diminish the awesomeness. I also got clothes, for the first time in…ever. I’ve honestly never gotten clothes for Christmas before. It’s…interesting, I guess. Oh, and here’s a weird factoid: I didn’t get any actual books. Not a one. Weird, huh? The gift card will more than tide me over, though.
I’m not terribly keen on the idea of spending the next week here in New York. I have to admit, there are places I would MUCH rather be. Unfortunately, unless people suddenly become rich, I’m staying here. *sniff* I’m finally not indifferent. And, when I’m finally not indifferent, everything goes ‘poof’ and disappears, much to my chagrin.
Saw my cousins (second cousins? first cousins once removed?) Jennifer and Janet yesterday for the first time in 13 years. It was weird and a bit awkward at first, but things got better very quickly, and it ended on a rather pleasant note.
I’m still feeling pretty good about myself. Odd, I know, but hey—I’m not going to argue. Plus, I won something. For the first time in, like, ever. (I can’t believe I just said ‘like.’ I should go commit seppuku for it, I’m so ashamed of myself) But it’s definitely a prize worth winning; in my opinion, it’s actually far better than what I deserve.
I’m exhausted. I haven’t even been up for twelve hours, but I think a lot of it (‘it’ being the tiredness) has to do with being surrounded by lots of people, none of whom I’m entirely comfortable with, for the past several days. Hopefully, now that the wedding is over and Christmas is done (well, it will be done in 9 minutes), things will quiet down and the insane chaos will just go away. I hope.
Pray my senioritis goes away. I’m seriously beginning to consider the merits of dropping out. I just don’t care about school anymore.
On a completely different note, Hock is trying to get me to start WoW again. I gave stringent (in my opinion, anyway) requirements that must be met for me to resume playing…so, who knows? Maybe Viaka will be present once again within the warlock ranks of Stormscale. Or maybe not.
And finally, to close…weasel butter.


Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?/Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs.

1. Name as it appears on your birth certificate? Sarah Marie Kautzmann. There, happy?
2. Nickname? Two. 2. Sarah 2. Sarah K. Sars. Norby. Norbs. Norbert. Costa Rica. Psycho. PMS. Leah. Judy. Kala. Evil CS Chick. Viaka. V. Grammar Nazi. Keeper of Souls. The Mistress. (I think that's all of them, they tend to run together after awhile)
3. Parents names: Mom and Daddy
4. Number of candles that appeared on your last birthday cake : I didn't have one. I haven't had an actual cake since I was, um, I think 14.
5. Date that you regularly blow them out? Like I said, I don't have candles on a cake because I DON'T HAVE A CAKE.
6. Pets?: Does Stefan count? O.o Two dogs back in Costa Rica, Patch and Muffin. Oh, and we've temporarily adopted Bruno (13 year old half Maltese/half miniature poodle)
7. Eye color: Brown. What can I say? I'm boring.
8. Hair color : Brown. I'm still boring. That's not gonna change in a line.
9. Piercing: 1/ear. Used to have 4 holes in my left ear, but then one of the earrings somehow disintegrated and infected the 3 uppermost holes, so I let them grow together. I'd love a tongue ring, though. And a belly ring. Also an eyebrow ring, but since that's readily visible, it's not very likely. But maybe someday.
10. Tattoos: Not yet, but that'll be fixed soon enough.
11. How much do you love your job? If you mean being a general nuisance, I love it. If you mean being a student, I'm getting tired of it.
12. Favorite color: You actually have to ask? Black. Followed by grey, which is followed by (oh, imagine this!) black.
13. Hometown: Define "hometown."
14. Current Residence: here.
15. Favorite food: Aji de gallina.
16. Been to Africa? Not yet.
17. Been toilet papering? Yes. My mom was the getaway driver.
18. Loved somebody so much it made you cry? Yes, but I hate crying, so it didn't last long.
19. Been in a car accident? No. Well, kind of. A panic-inducing fender-bender about 18 months ago.
20. Croutons or bacon bits? Let's see--stale bread or dead animal bits? Anyone who knows me should think this obvious: dead animal bits, (duh!). But only if it's REAL dead animal--I don't like fake dead animal.
21. Sprite or 7UP? Neither. I'd like water, Izze, or cranberry juice, or smoothies.
22. Favorite Movie? Wag the Dog, Star Wars (Original Trilogy), Serenity, Boondock Saints, The Usual Suspects, Pitch Black
23. Favorite Holiday: Juan Santa Maria Day. We burn things. It's like Guy Fawkes Day, only without the pancakes or fireworks, and nobody tried to blow up Parliament, and it's in Costa Rica....ok, so it's nothing like Guy Fawkes Day. But I don't like pancakes, so it's all good.
24. Favorite day of the week? Every day that doesn't end in "y"
25. Favorite word or phrase? up yours, crap, whatever, you're a terrible person, I hate you we're fighting, monkeybutt, 'hi, my name is (insert name here), and I'm a moron'
26. Favorite Toothpaste? Whatever is cheap or free
27. Favorite Restaurant Melody? I'm confused.....
28. Favorite Flowers? Roses. Hibiscus are fun because they're so freaking HUGE, although I think they're kind of ugly. Oh, and lilies of the valley and oleanders, because they're POISONOUS!
29. Favorite Drink? I'm stupid enough when I'm sober. Oh, nonalcoholic? That would be my mom's banana shakes. Or a cranberry juice/Generic clear carbonated beverage of choice mix. Or water.
30. Favorite sport to watch? Curling. You know, where you get the huge guys using brooms to push stones across ice. Ok, so it's boring as heck. Um, gymnastics, hockey, rugby, some football (American)
31. Preferred type of ice cream ? CHUNKY MONKEY. Or rocky road. Or heavenly hash.
32. Favorite sesame street character? Snuffleufagus, because he has a funny name. And Oscar. And Cookie Monster. Oh, and Telly.
33. Disney or Warner Bros.? Um, WB, cuz they made the Animaniacs.
34. Favorite Fast Food? Fazoli's. Quizno's is good, too, though.
35. What color is your bedroom carpet? I don't have one.
36. How many times did you fail your drivers test? None. Although I didn't try until I was 20, which might have something to do with it.
37. Who is the last person you got email from before this? dictionary.com, with the word of the day (it was 'ossify')
38. Have you ever been convicted of a crime? I like to think that the statute of limitations, combined with the lack of an extradition treaty, will keep me safe.
39. Which single store would you choose to max out your credit card? Barnes & Noble. Or Borders. Amazon.com. WidowPC. EBGames. GameStop. (I'd need a lot of credit cards)
40. What do you do most often when you are bored? Read. Or torment people. Or sleep. Or read. Or play video games. Or read.
41. Name a friend that lives the farthest away? Um. Not sure. Probably Sherri; she's in Korea
42. Most annoying thing people say to you? "What's that thing on your chin?" (or a variation of aforementioned inquiry)
43. Bedtime? Whenever I stop reading.
44. Favorite all time TV show? Animaniacs, the A-Team, or Firefly.
45. Last person you went out to dinner with? Well, if you mean off-campus, that would be Brandon. If you mean on-campus, that would be Michelle.
46. Last Movie you saw? Advent Children. I would have liked it better if there had been more Sephiroth.
47: Fave season? Winter--it's bleak and grim, just like me. Plus, you get snow. And there's little to no construction.
48: Fave car? One I could actually get? VW Jetta. One I could maybe eventually get? Audi A-4 or A-8. One I could never get but adore? Aston-Martin DB-9
49: What are you wearing? a burlap sack and a set of iron shackles that have been stamped with anti-human wards.
50: Do u have a crush? No. They're annoying.
51: Who is it? If you have to ask despite my reply to the last question, you're dumber than I thought. Which is really, really dumb.
52: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says: ...lifted his dripping right hand just in time to save his...
53: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first?
The Cheshire cat thingy on my wall
54: What is the last thing you watched on TV? House
55: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what time it is: 11:50 or so
56: Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?: 11:45 pm
57: With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?: music
58: When did you last step outside? what were you doing? About an hour and a half ago, when I was walking back here from Bekah's
59: Before you came to this website, what did you look at? Furiae.com
60: Did you dream last night? yes.
61: When did you last laugh? When Bekah got hyper.
62: What is on the walls of the room you are in? paint, posters, quotes, and other random crap.
63: Seen anything weird lately? Does Bekah count? :P
64: What do you think of this quiz? I don't.
65: What is the last film you saw? Advent Children. I think I said this earlier.
66: If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first? a Steinway baby grand for my mom, followed by a Gibson Les Paul for my brother, and then a DB-9 and a really nice computer for me.
67: Tell me something about you that I don't know: I found my keys. Wait. You probably didn't know that I lost them.
68: If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do? Require mandatory sterilization of all stupid people, thereby reducing the possibility that the stupid gene will be passed on to future generations.
69: Do you like to dance? yes
70: Would you ever consider living abroad? *snicker* well, considering that I've never left the 48 contiguous states, leaving the country is kind of a scary concept for me...
71: Any last words? The day Higgs and I walk down the aisle together to claim our common seat, the oceans will fall into the sky and the trees shall hang with fishes.


Was it a vision, or a waking dream?/Fled is that music:—do I wake or sleep?

Well, my belief that skiing is not the wisest of athletic endeavors has, once again, been shown to be a sound belief. Luke (head of his college ski team) had a bad fall or crash or whatever the proper term for that is, and dislocated his shoulder, and his jaw, and might have a concussion. That's the best-case scenario. And since I don't want to be like the Kennedy who died by skiing directly into a tree, I'm going to sit quietly at 'home' (in the middle of Flatland, USA) and not regret my lack of exposure to skiing.
Time awake: 39 hours and counting. I haven't had caffeine since Thursday afternoon/evening (around 5-ish). I'm not tired, physically or mentally. This is probably bad. I hate when my body does this. It's like it randomly decides to be cruel and mess up my mind more than it already is. I'm going to try to sleep tonight; I can feel the time approaching where I'll start getting grey cobwebby lines at the edges of my vision. And once I reach that point, it's only a matter of time until I pass out, literally, for an hour or two. Then I wake up and could do the whole thing over again. Which is also probably bad. The part that actually worries me, though, is the way my mind starts to twist; even now I can feel it trying to wrest away whatever tenuous grip I have on sanity at the moment. Humans were meant to sleep, if only to process more thoroughly all the information received during the waking hours. When that processing time is removed, things start to build up, and that's when bad things are very likely to occur. Think of a septic tank that gets stopped up and everything just flows back up through the pipes; but since the septic system wasn't designed to handle that much pressure coming from both directions, it breaks a bunch of pipes and so now not only does your shower drain produce smelly black goo every time you turn on the sink, but the front lawn you spent so many hours meticulously caring for is now squishy and reeks of sewage.
That is what will, in effect, happen to me. It happened before. It was bad. Very bad. Be glad that you didn't have to see it.

Oh another note, I saw Max today. He was sitting in the little anteroom/foyer/thing here in English, and the way he looked at me made me want to cry because it reminded me of Droopy so much. I miss Droopy. You never forget your first real pet, and he was a wonderful one.

Oh, and I did laundry. And (for lack of the proper term) dangling situps. And as I was putting on my pajamas not many minutes ago I scraped the top of my foot. Go me.

I'm going to try to sleep now.


Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?/I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach

Have no idea why I picked this line to open the entry; I guess it's because I love the poem, and the poet, and I think the line in and of itself is fun. Kind of. (pause) I'm an English nerd! What to you expect?

Moving on. Christmas break is next week. I'm excited, but nervous at the same time. Does that make any sense? It is my first Christmas away from my immediate family, and that makes me sad. But I'll actually have FRIENDS around for the holidays, and that makes me enormously cheerful.

I woke up the day of my birthday (which fell on a Monday this year. I hate Mondays) feeling somehow better. No idea how else to put it, just...better. Like I was human again. I smiled a lot. You know me--I rarely smile. Or laugh. But I do a lot of both now. I also believe myself to be a worthwhile human being--which is something I went for the last 10 years struggling with.

Don't get me wrong--I still like black, and the dark, and scaring people with the stranger aspects of my personality. I still like solitude, and reading, and dark-ish music and so on. My personality, my tastes, haven't changed. I just...I don't hate myself anymore. I can get up in the morning without wanting to cry at the thought of living through another hour--let alone another day. I don't totally loathe people anymore (although I still dislike the human race as a whole, and believe that stupid people should be sterilised to prevent reproduction, and I still can't stand children), and I (from what I've been told) don't have that, je ne c'est quoi, 'eff off or I'll kill you in such a horrific and painful manner that you cannot even BEGIN to comprehend it' aura radiating from me. Which is good. Although, to be completely honest, I wouldn't mind being able to give that impression at will--that way if I really do want to be left alone, I can still scare people off. ^.^

Last thing. I had a bizarre dream last night. Somebody had hacked into my computer--and my phone, too, somehow--and messed them both up. The phone would route through a French telephone service and would only dial one person---who I didn't know--no matter what number I punched in. The internet was ALSO changed--routed through a French server and would only connect me to French food web sites. And on startup, my computer would automatically log me into World of Warcraft, on my old character, complete with old gear--which is all GONE--and then shut down. Somehow I got past the vicious cycle, though, and that's when I discovered the French server food thing. There was something about elevators, too, but I don't remember that very well at all.


Oh my gosh! A shadow's creeping/Ominous and black, it's seeping/Slowly 'cross a moonlit square of light!

Hello, my name is 2, and I am dumb. Ask me how!

Yes, I mean that. I had...an adventure, let's say, with Bekah while in Muncie. It was interesting, and I think I managed to convey a sense of distress, despair, and mild yet ever-increasing panic.
Or maybe I just seemed so pathetic and/or freaky that the people wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible. Either one works, I suppose.

This isn't gonna be a long post; it's late and I'm tired and it's been a long day--and yes, the so-called adventure contributed significantly to the length of it. On the bright side, the post title is taken from a Calvin & Hobbes poem that I absolutely adore. And I bought a copy of 'The Westing Game' (my previous copy disappeared several years ago, and I've been looking for a replacement ever since). AND I bought a very, very cool looking book-thong (yes, book-thong). AND I bought Attack of the Bacon Robots. Which almost--but not quite--makes up for my dumbness.


I wait here at the boundaries of dream/All shadow-wrapped.

*insert ominous music here* Birthday's coming. >.< I'll tell you when it's over.

On another note, I think there's something going on with Austin that he isn't telling me; I'm starting to wonder just what the bloody eff it is, and why he's become so different. So distant. I miss my friend.


Darkling I listen; and, for many a time/I have been half in love with easeful Death

I've decided that I like Keats. Not sure why, because (imho, at least) he's the father of the emo movement. I had a presentation on his 'Ode to a Nightingale;' and I have to admit, when I first read the title all I could think was, 'damnit, I have to do a poem about a bird?!' But then I actually read the damn thing, and I really like it. It's very...I don't know. Accurate regarding my own perceptions. Keats is longing for this painless, easy fading away--like all his atoms and molecules softly dissipating into the air--but then he starts to realise that death isn't as wonderful as it sounds; that the total absence of everything is actually rather terrifying. So he decides to try to tough it out, and suck it up, and carry on, and insert trite phrase of your choice here. I wish I could say that I'm not gonna seek death for the same reason as Keats, but I can't, not if I want to be honest. I'm not going to do it because I'm afraid of failing. And I'm afraid for what it will do to several people in my life who mean so much to me; hurting them is one of the worst things I can imagine.

On another note, the Parnassus thing is going very well this year. There have been about five times as many submissions than last year, and they're generally better quality. Granted, some are just crap, but for the most part we can afford to be rather picky and selective, and it's a nice feeling to know that a journal I helped put together is going to have quality entries. The Poetry/Prose Reading thing went well, too, although nobody laughed at the parts of my story that I thought were funny. Well, no, I heard somebody chuckle when I mentioned drawing in the hymnals, but that was it. It was kind of depressing, but I figure that since very few people here share my sense of humour, odds were against anyone in the audience finding it funny or even mildly amusing.

Other than that, I haven't been doing to terribly well. I'm going to quit WoW, because I have better things to do with my time and money than sitting at my computer killing imaginary monsters and being killed by real people. It's been a long, tough, tiring month, and there have been so many times that I just wanted to sit down and scream, or run until I got sick, or punch someone or something. I actually cried a bit on Sunday night. I wanted to just break down and weep earlier this evening, too, but (fortunately) I've still got decent control over my lacrimal ducts (read: tears). There have been several things that I had been hoping for, or hoping to do, and now I'm starting to realise that they're probably not the best things for me. I'm like that sometimes, and I'm hoping to get better. I'd love to have better judgment and more common sense regarding myself, as well as more patience and a hell of a lot less bitterness.

I found out that people in high school were 'absolutely freaking terrified' of me (to quote a source), and they hated me. Which isn't all that surprising, really--I suspected it, but I didn't really know. I do now, though, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it. I'm not sure how I feel about my brother not wanting me to know what he thinks of me. I know he's disappointed in me, but that was obvious last Christmas when he started preaching at me.

I feel like such an incredible failure most of the time. Whether I actually am or not doesn't matter; reality doesn't really factor in. Maybe I have a skewed perspective of myself, but I think it's more likely that I'm just a lot better at faking life than I used to be. Not that that matters, either.


It is not the moon, I tell you/It is these flowers/lighting the yard

I tried to give blood today. It went well until my arm went numb. Then the blood stopped flowing and I started shaking really bad and couldn't move my hand. Apparently I (who never clot quickly) clotted up around the needle after half a pint. I felt bad, mostly, for consuming time and resources that could have been spent on someone with decent enough veins to actually give a full pint; as it was, they had to abort the procedure and throw the bag away. I felt awful, I'm actually still a bit twitchy (but I'm ignoring it). But, on the bright side, I got a free cookie. ^.^

I'm going to bed now. I'm tired and have to be at least semi-alert tomorrow for class, homework, class, and then rehearsal for the group interp. thingy. It figures, the first semester I'm at all willing to be social, and I don't have enough time to be so.


The art of losing isn't hard to master/Though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

I'm a dork. And here's why.
I put up my heinous bruise picture as my Facebook photo. Apparently it's gotten several people all worked up; I think it's funny. Hence, dorkiness.
I've got hold of a copy of 'Torn' by Natalie Imbruglia. Yeah, from the nineties. I keep that and 'Spare Me the Details' by Offspring on repeat on my media player. Again, dorkiness.
I watched Emmitt Smith dance the Cha-cha live on national television on Tuesday; it was so much fun. He can actually dance, I got a huge kick out of it. The song--'Son of a Preacher Man'--didn't hurt. It was followed by Mario Lopez (better known as Slater from Saved by the Bell) also dancing the Cha-cha, but to 'Walkin' on the Sun.' He was even better than Smith; the whole thing thoroughly amused me.
Oh, and 'Walkin' on the Sun' is the third song on my playlist. >.<
I played World of Warcraft for the first time in forever last night, it was great. I got my hat (finally) and a whole bunch of other stuff, it made me very happy. I still need to go through that particular instance (Scholomance) at least twice more to finish a quest chain I'm currently following, but it's one I like, so it won't be much of a problem.
Peter Dull won the Imaginative Writing 'Worst Poem' contest; his entry is hysterical. I'm planning on getting a typed copy of it. It's one terrible analogy and metaphor after another.

On a non-dork note, I was told tonight that Aaron is thinking about coming up here in a couple of weeks. Keep in mind, the information is unreliable, but still. I didn't want to know. It's hard enough thinking about him; knowing that he might be coming (even though the key word at the moment is might) makes things eight million times worse. The whole thing is not cool.

On another not-dork note, the secretary through whom I am supposed to schedule a counseling appointment has been gone for the past week, and her sub (a student) is not permitted (by policy) to schedule appointments. So I still haven't gone to see anybody, and at the rate this is going (and it's swiftly snowballing to a ridiculous degree) I won't be able to. You'll most likely tell me, hey, just email the counselor in question to schedule, but I intend to switch--the last one was never at work and never emailed in advance to say she wasn't going to be there, and I got sick of showing up week after week for nothing--and for that I need to go through the secretary, for some stupid reason. So it's irritating.

And I'm not insanely dizzy anymore. I'm not great, I still see spots and the world is usually spinning, but it's not as spotty or as spinny (is that a word? I'm making it a word, at least for now) as it was earlier this week.

Apparently freshmen are already getting warned to stay away from me; I realise I'm not the greatest person in the world, but telling people horror stories--especially when I didn't do anything, intentionally or otherwise, to the teller in question--seems to be hitting below the belt. I know who it is, too, which in a way makes it worse, but at the same time, it makes it a bit easier to deal with--I can avoid them now, and do my best to not befoul their delicate sensibilities with my corrupting presence. Okay, so I'm bitter. But I'm trying to get better--at least about how I react to it. I'm going to do my best to not pick any fights this year, and to not try to get the other person to pick fights, either. A new year's resolution of sorts. Turning over a new leaf. Whatever you want to call it. Efforts thus far have been successful, but it's only three weeks into the year, there's still plenty of time for me to start something.

Speaking of efforts, I want to submit to Parnassus again this year, especially since not only has the contest been reinstated, but--and ths is the part I actually care about--submissions will be judged by outsiders and awarded prizes by such. Judith Kitchen, Sven Birkerts, and Paul Willis are the judges, and as they are all rather well-respected authors/poets/whatever/etc/amen, I would absolutely love to have them read something I wrote, even if I came in dead last.

But I'm tired and ought to go to bed, I've got homework to do tomorrow, lots of it; none of which I'm feeling exuberant about. Goodnight.


My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me./Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.

I had several other titles that I liked more, but none seemed to fit the contents of this entry as well as this one.

It has, indeed, been a while since I last spoke, since I last put my words upon my techno-paper. Things--many things--have happened, yet I don't feel much like discussing all of them; only a few strike my fancy tonight, and even then only in the broadest terms.

The school year has once again begun; I am more prepared for it this year than any year prior, although I am not sure why. I hope my early drafts of poetry and prose from this summer are amendable enough to present to my writing class; perhaps I should just work on the one I wrote in class for an assignment on Thursday, even though it's short with no set meter or rhyme (which bothers me). Perhaps I could turn it into a sonnet or something...*snicker* I can just picture it: a sonnet about insanity, or not being insane, with the speaker slowly spiralling further and further into what perhaps is insanity--but then again, it might not be.
Or not. Just an idea.

I miss my 'boys.' It's weird, because I so rarely miss people. But I do. I've even started thinking about looking for a job post-graduation in the Pacific Northwest. But that could just be stalkerish.
Mom had a heart attack on Wednesday. I didn't find out about it until this afternoon (meaning Saturday afternoon). It threw me for a loop, and then some. I can feel myself shutting down and falling back into the strange void that randomly invades (and conquers) my entire being. I can't say I'll fight it, or even be upset--it's a far simpler and less painful way of dealing with issues, and once my subconscious (or whatever you wish to call it) has sorted things out, I return to normal--whatever normal may really be. But I just...I don't know. I don't know how else to respond to this, other than by my usual method, which is both dumb and dangerous. Unfortunately, it's the only thing I've ever known to do that actually works; everything else I've ever tried or that's ever been suggested has either failed or made things worse. So I'll shut down, instead. It should (I hope, at least) work, and thus far, I'm doing all right. But if something goes even more wrong, I don't know what I'll do. I'm close enough to the edge as it is, and this has pushed me closer. I don't want to be dancing on the edge of a muttering volcano (as a favourite author of mine once said), but it's the only solid ground within reach, and I don't know how to fly.

So I'll just keep dancing.


I shall be telling this with a sigh/Somewhere ages and ages since

I finally got back yesterday from summer vacation. Well, most of it was spent with my family in Costa Rica, and therefore doesn't really count as vacation. But, I got to spend a little over a week with 'my boys,' and those were the best days of my life--despite camping, nature, missing luggage, screwy flights, lack of sleep, truck breakdowns, and anal parents.

Sorry, I should probably elaborate. 'My boys' are four guys who live out in Washington (state), near-ish Seattle. They decided early in the summer to buy me a ticket to fly out there. To meet me. Yeah, I know--to meet me. As in, never met before. As in, meeting people I met on the Internet. In retrospect, it was incredibly, incredibly stupid; but there is only so long four different people can lie without tripping up somewhere, and it hadn't happened yet ('yet' being almost a year). It was incredible--a blast from start to finish, although there were several minor mishaps. But it was all totally worth it. Besides, I got bling. Andrew, one of the guys, had gone to Disneyland the week before and had bought a giant Chip n Dale pendant thing--it's bling. Disney bling, but still bling.

But now I'm back. I need to contact the counseling center here at uni to see if any of the on-staff people are qualified in cognitive or rational-emotive therapy. Cuz I kinda (okay, really) need it--my mind is almost literally split into segments, and no segment connects to any other segment, which kinda (okay, really) messes up my reality. Among other things.

In a nutshell, I've got a whacked-out depression subtype that is difficult to treat and notoriously unstable--as in, if someone blows their nose, I might kill myself. That kind of unstable. Which does explain a lot.
I've got a lot of features of borderline disorder, although I'm not actually borderline. I've also got formal thought disorder, and I can't see the big picture, just the small ones. Like a mosaic: I can see all the individual tiny pictures, but I can't see the whole thing, the overall result. Oh, and sometimes my depression causes me to shut down in a manner that gives me a lot of schizophrenic-ish symptoms--not the delusions, but the emotional things.

Oh, and my personal favourite, I'm schizotypal. Gotta love it--means I have a hard time dealing with people in significant ways, a hard time interacting with people, and I am literally incapable of connecting to people on a deep emotional level for very long, if ever. Lotsa fun, that.


A heap of broken images, where the sun beats/And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief

Internet was down for the last 48 hours. Grr.

I got my results back Thursday afternoon. Turns out I'm almost crazy, but not quite. Kind of inbetween the two places, sanity and insanity...figures. I'm too indecisive to choose. ^.^

But hey, we know what I'm dealing with now, so hopefully more specific treatments will help.

Hooray for the inbetween. Okay, no, not really.


Vast forms, that move fantastically/To a discordant melody

Was tested yesterday. I get the results on Thursday.


Disease is growing, it's epidemic/I'm scared that there ain't a cure

Well, the verdict is in. Sort of. The testing on Wednesday was not sufficiently conclusive to make any diagnosis. So I go back in on Monday for another round. However, there was one conclusion established that day: Whatever it is that I have has made my mind split in two; I don't perceive reality 'the way it is'--the quotes because I feel that my reality is how things are. But given the fact that I've become increasingly aware that the way the world manifests in my mind is extremely atypical, in a bad way. But I digress. My mind no longer functions as a whole, and without treatment, it will only get worse. Which is bad.

I just want to find out whatever it is that I have. Probably something unpleasant. I'm pretty sure it's not schizophrenia, but considering the fact that I've started hallucinating on occasion for about a week and a half now, you never really know. Which is also bad.

On the bright side, I got contacts! I can see! I'm so proud of myself, too--it takes me less than 10 minutes to put them in and/or take them out, which I like to think is good for someone who's only had them for 2 days. Hooray for one less complication in my life.


They pay homage to a king/Whose dreams lie buried in their minds

So I lied. Once again, I made a quasi-hasty decision that I came to think better of. So, at least for now, I'm back.

There're other reasons, too. Like, I know there are people who read this who never comment and don't e-mail but still like to have at least a vague notion regarding what's currently going on in my life. Among other things. But I digress.

Main reason I'm writing is, I finally opened up about all my issues--a lot of which I didn't even realise were problems until 2 weeks ago (ish)--to my psychiatrist. One would naturally assume that this revelation and newfound honesty is a step in the right direction. However, all of my afore-mentioned issues apparently concerned my doc, because he's sending me to a clinical psychologist for some tests. Multiple tests. Psych tests. Tests they don't administer to someone who's merely suffering from long-term depression. I'm a bit worried, honestly, because I'm not sure what they'll find. I've gone through enough, trying to find a cure or a treatment or whatever you want to call it for depression, and none of it has worked; nothing has done anything more than slow down the mood swings from minutes to an hour or two. If there's something else, something worse, so to speak, I don't know how I'll take the news; with the lack of response to all manner of treatments for depression, lord only knows how poorly I'll respond to treatments for anything else.

For example. The most effective drug I have ever been placed on did not help me. This was a few weeks ago, actually. The med in question was supposed to boost the effectiveness of the other meds I'm already taking. Instead, it made me hear things. Things like people singing in my living room at two a.m. Things like hearing conversations in my bedroom when no one was in there, except me. Things like hearing my ceiling fan read aloud whatever I was currently reading. Not good. FYI, I'm not taking it anymore. It was an interesting experience, though; I'd never hallucinated before. There's a first time for everything, right?

Another example. Back when we thought it was just depression, my doctor was still concerned about my lack of response to any and all treatments. We're kind of running out of options. He suggested an almost-last-resort tactic, that has been around for ten years and, while approved everywhere else, is not approved by the FDA yet. Now, before anybody goes freaking out about this, the FDA approved aspirin, and hasn't approved the most effective menstrual cramp reliever I've ever had. But you probably didn't want to know that, so back to the point. Anyway, the treatment in question has a very high success rate (more than twice that of meds and/or therapy) without side effects of any kind. Too good to be true, right? Well, here's the catch: since it's not FDA approved, our insurance won't cover it. We can't afford it, we don't have the kind of money it would take to do the procedure. If it's approved within the next year or so, we'll do it; but otherwise, it's a no-go. Which sucks, because I'm getting desperate. Other than that, there's only one other option, and that's electroshock therapy. It's messy, it's painful, it's expensive, and the side effects are horrific. But it works. At this point, I'd do just about anything...

I go in for the tests on Wednesday. I don't know what to expect, or what will happen. I just hope, and pray (even though I don't really pray much anymore), that these tests will show what it is that's wrong with me, and maybe even how to fix it.


Halogen, the lights will flicker/Incandescent burning lies

You know what? I'm done. I've royally screwed over the kindest person I've ever known--and I've done it more than once. And if I'm forgiven, it will probably happen again. I don't want it to, but I'm not exactly in control a good percentage of the time. That, and when it comes right down to the point, I'm not capable of the kind of love required for the whole thing. Probably never will be. The deeper positive emotions, I've found, are 100% elusive, no matter how much I strive to reach them; they're always just beyond my grasp. So in consequence, those who are capable of reaching and feeling those emotions--especially deep, enduring love--scare me. Especially when those emotions are directed towards me, both because it makes me feel like a failure and because I can't reciprocate, no matter how much I want to.

My capacity to really love someone died six years ago, and I've never been able to resurrect it. And what is life without love? It's hell. It really is. The Apostle Paul wasn't kidding when he said that the greatest thing of all was love.

This will be my last blog post. I'm sick of sharing my feelings with every person to ever browse the internet. If you want to know what's going on with me, from now on, you'll have to write me.

It's been a mediocre experience,


This is the way the world ends:/Not with a bang, but a whimper.

I've been here less than a week and I already hate it here. I keep forgetting how many awful memories this place holds. At least I haven't gotten sick...yet.

I'm trying to work up the courage to tell my mom just how much I resent the way I grew up, how much I hate it, hate thinking about it, hate everything that has anything remotely to do with it. But how do you tell your parents that it was most likely their profession (not just any profession, but serving God) that screwed you up so badly in the first place? That it was their profession that made you pretty much turn away from religion, faith, and God? That you hate and resent just about everything they've worked for?

You can't.

So I suck it up, and bite my tongue, and move on to another topic of conversation every time it comes to mind. I can't help but think, though, that maybe getting it all off my chest--to them, not to a faceless journal or a blog nobody reads--would help, at least somewhat. Somehow, though, I don't think so.

Which is bad, because I've come to realise something very important (and very bad), that was confirmed only a couple of days ago by my mom: this is my life. I will most likely never be able to function properly without massive doses of meds and weekly therapy. The sun, when visible, will burn my skin and sear my eyes; the only silver linings will be from flashlights silhouetting something. My best days will be ones I don't think of suicide, self-harm, or relative worthlessness. Thus far, I haven't had one--not a single effing one--in nine years.

Nine years. Not a long time, by most measurements, but when you're only twenty-one, that's a hell of a long time to be staring into the darkness. Even now, when I'm doing so much better than I was even two weeks ago, it's there, and there's so little holding me back. To be completely honest, I'm not looking forward to the rest of my life. It's hard enough getting up in the morning with just the idea of the coming day; realising that the rest of my life will most likely be the same makes it that much harder and that much worse. They say suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem; that's what I said to my mom when she stopped me and said, point-blank, "It's not temporary, honey. This is your life." I want to get better, so badly. Don't tell me that faith or prayer will fix it. If prayer worked, I would have been healed long ago.

Life is what you make it, or so they say. Unfortunately, despite my (and my family's) best efforts, apparently all I can make of life is crap. Or really foul lemonade. Whichever expression suits you best, I suppose. There's so little motivating me right now; sadly, a big part of it is the possibility that I will be able to totally ruin someone's day, or really offend them, or maybe just piss them off far more than they have ever been, or ever will be. I know it's bad, to live for upsetting other people. But at this point, I guess I just don't give an effing damn anymore. My very personality seems to offend a lot of people, I might as well start doing it deliberately.


All's over, then: does truth sound bitter/As one at first believes?

Apparently Whitney Cerak isn't dead after all. In a case of mistaken identity gone way too far (and way too absurd, really), Laura Van Ryn turns out to not be Laura Van Ryn. Somebody somewhere screwed up big time, and confused the bodies, so to speak. Nobody had any idea that Laura was actually Whitney until yesterday. Keep in mind, Whitney 'died' five weeks ago, and 'Laura' has been out of the coma and able to speak for a couple weeks now. The observation skills of people are clearly not up to snuff. But then, considering the sheer bizarreness of the situation, who can blame them? I told you things weren't over yet.

On a completely different, and less ridiculous (at least to me), note, I was just released this afternoon from an acute psych unit. I checked myself in (mostly) on Saturday afternoon and spent the next five days trying not to be scared of the crazy people surrounding me. Among the disorders present: Post-traumatic stress disorder, antisocial personality disorder, alcoholism, drug addiction, borderline personality disorder, ADHD, bipolar disorder, dementia, and everybody's favorite, schizophrenia! Not to mention anger and stress management people and your run-of-the-mill depressives and self-mutilators. But I survived, and I like to think I'm the better for it. At least I'm not teetering on the edge anymore.
But because of this whole thing, my parents are having me fly down to CR for the rest of the summer, I leave sometime early next week. I'm hoping to be back in time for Christine's wedding; if I can't make that, I'll for sure be back for Mu Kappa Orientation...not that I have any real say in the matter, considering that I'm one of the orientation leaders.

Oh, and apparently whatever charisma or charm that I possess works on nutjobs, too--all the crazy people liked me. I suppose that, if nothing else, should be a comfort.


Each Life Converges to some Centre--/Expressed, or still--

Friends are graduating today. Friends are leaving today, which, in my mind, at least, is far more significant and saddening. While I'm very happy for them, I will miss them--even the ones I barely saw this semester, or even this year.

Matt Hock, Mike Assis, Erik Kielisch, John Murphey, Allison Riddle, and (my dear and loving husband) Timothy Deal--I will miss you all so much; I don't think you (or I, for that matter) understand how much.

Seeing Allison's family come today made me sad, as well; also for graduation, but not for the same reasons. See, college graduation is a big deal--it will be an especially big deal for me, since I never really graduated from high school. Don't get me wrong, I finished high school, I just didn't graduate. And as much as I claim to have been relieved by that, it's partly (at least) a lie, because looking back, it would have meant a lot to me. At least, it would in retrospect.

But I digress. Everyone's family is here, celebrating the end of their college (well, undergraduate, at least) careers. But when I graduate, I'll be lucky if I can have both parents present, never mind siblings. We just don't have the money, and even thinking about it now, a year in advance, makes me want to cry.

On a happy note, I hit level 60 in World of Warcraft a couple days ago. Yay!


Memory will lay its hands upon your breast/And you will understand my hatred

You no longer speak to me, with me, of me.

I miss you.

You were me, in a mirror. How I could have been, would have been—should have been.

You were a major part of the random bits and pieces we accrue during our lifetimes that round one out and make one a real person.

What happened? Did I do something wrong? Was friendship too much for you? I have to admit, even then I wondered if you had any part in your not returning to uni. As time goes by, I become more and more assured that you did. Why did you lie? Why bother? All things considered, I would have thought you’d have preferred just dropping everything and not looking back—like you do now. Did you realize that consistent dishonesty takes more effort than you were willing to put in?

I should have seen it coming. I do that too often—refuse to see the train behind the oncoming light.

To be honest, the pain has gotten worse, not better. Not only is the pain still there (undiminished), but bitterness and anger have set in, and I’m only barely keeping the hatred at bay. At this rate….well, even in one’s journalings, some things are better left unsaid.

I’m not even sure if I want an answer to the ‘why’ anymore. It would probably put my mind at ease a bit, but it wouldn’t actually help anything. Even with this knowledge, though, I keep wanting to know why you ever bothered since you were only going to screw me over in the end.

As much fun as we had together, I should have realized that it was too much fun to be real. I wish it had never happened. I wish we had never met. I wish many things, but mostly, I wish the same thing will happen to you.


Great is the hand that holds dominion over/Man by a scribbled name

I guess I just feel like letting my thoughts flow out tonight; not really like talking to anyone, just anonymous venting, I suppose.
Five people from Taylor were killed in a car wreck; one arrested for soliciting a minor for sex; one rolled his car 5 times (survived) and many suspect it was a suicide attempt; and one is in the hospital in critical condition from blood clots in bad places. It's been a happy time here at good ol' Taylor U. Sadly, it doesn't really surprise me. Somehow, I get the feeling that this rash of 'bad things' is not done; something has yet to happen. I hope I'm just being paranoid.

I'm not sure how I feel about any of this. Yes, it's tragic and upsetting (and in the case of the arrestee, disgusting), but life does tend to be tragic and upsetting and, in the words of the lovely Amy Watkins, sucky. Yes, those who loved the ones who died have every right to mourn. Those close to the young woman in the hospital ought to be concerned for her welfare, as should those close to the young man who rolled his car. But are those who aren't close to them responsible for maintaining a facade of grief? Don't get me wrong, it would be inappropriate to belittle the mourning and worry of those who love(d) them. What I wonder is, is everyone else also required to mourn? Must they weep over those they never knew?

Many people would say 'yes.' What I ask them is, why then do you not weep even more for those invisible children of Uganda? Of the Sudanese driven from their homes by their own government? The poor, the orphaned, the starving, the dying of the world? If we ought to bewail the loss of those we do not know, then we must equally grieve for all the wrongs of the world.

I propose a balance, a middle ground: do not mourn if you do not need do, forced mourning only cheapens those who truly feel a loss. Instead, support those who are grieving, respect their pain--but do not cheapen it.

This life is short, this world is ugly. True, there is beauty in it--sunsets, waterfalls, music, love, and so on--but truly the decay the world is in will soon overwhelm what little loveliness remains. These reminders of our mortality ought to shake us out of our complacency, remind us that we were not made to sit inside our sterile bubbles, safe from the outside world. After all, everyone dies, it doesn't matter how.

What matters is how you live.


Candy is dandy/But liquor is quicker

I have discovered hell: getting a flat tire in the middle of nowhere with a terrible jack, no cell phone, and a crummy spare while being on the heaviest and worst period of your life.

Hurray, hurray.


I have been one acquainted with the night/I have walked out in rain--and back in rain

Break is over. Sad, but wonderful at the same time. Let me say that one person's behaviour was so reminiscent of a lecherous boy of twelve years that it very nearly ruined my break, as well as someone else's. Not cool.

However, I did have some good times. I bought the World of Warcraft Atlas (awesome), the 'V for Vendetta' soundtrack (almost awesome), 'The Diamond Throne' (awesome), and 'Stardust' (very, very awesome); plus, I was able to sleep a good deal and was fed good food.

It's nice, coming back from break knowing that my hosts like me. I have not really experienced this phenomenon since starting uni, so it was a really nice and pleasant feeling.

I had a good, yet slightly painful talk with Isaac regarding various things in our relationship; hopefully it will help smooth most (if not all) of the major wrinkles.

My mother is coming to visit! I'm ecstatic; I have not seen her since winter break, during most of which I was either asleep or heavily drugged due to that unpleasant surgery. In any case, she comes a week from Friday and I am nearly jumping with glee. Mother and I aren't extremely close, but we get along famously and she is the one I feel closest to in my immediate family. Or my extended family, for that matter. I don't care much for most of my relatives.
James is going blind, which is not good. He has an incurable eye condition that causes his cornea to bulge out, and may need surgery very soon. On the bright side, however, he did reach level sixty with his undead warlock in World of Warcraft. I'm very proud. Especially since I am only level forty-seven.

I'm still hoping against hope that I was wrong, but with every day that passes without word, I feel even more certain (and saddened) that I was right. Why is it that one is usually wrong unless one desperately wants to be so, in which case one is inevitably right? It's a terrible conspiracy on the part of the universe, I'm sure.

And one of my professors apparently is an idiot. According to him, my figurative language (imagery, similes, and so on) are too obscure, esoteric, or just plain unusual for people to understand, and it therefore makes them feel stupid, which he 'feels a lot.' I'm quoting him on that, by the way. I don't understand this, especially since a) I followed his directions to the letter; and b) I dumbed it down.

I hate stupid people, especially stupid people who demand the dumbing-down of all they encounter just so that they do not have to feel stupid.


While laughter lights upon my lips/And lights are in my hair

Because I'm dumb....


[ ] I am shorter than 5'4.
[x ] I have many scars.
[ ] I tan easily.
[x] I wish my hair was a different color. (White hair. Or navy.)
[ ] I have a tattoo.
[x] I am self-conscious about my appearance.
[x ] I have/I've had braces.
[x] I wear glasses.
[] I've been told I'm attractive by a complete stranger.
[x] I have more than 2 piercings
[ ] I have piercings in places besides my ears. (I want some, though...)
[] I have freckles.

Family/Home Life

[] I've sworn at my parents.
[ ] I've run away from home.
[ ] I've been kicked out of the house.
[x] My biological parents are together.
[ ] I have a sibling less than one year old.
[] I want to have kids someday.
[ ] I've had children.
[ ] I've lost a child.


[x] I'm in school.
[x] I have a job.
[x] I've fallen asleep at work/school.
[x] I almost always do my homework.
[x ] I've missed a week or more of school. (Yay, mononucleosis. NOT!)
[ ] I've been on the Honor Roll within the last 2 years.
[] I failed more than 1 class last year.
[] I've stolen something from my job.
[ ] I've been fired.
[x] I've skipped school.


[x] I've slipped out a "lol" in a spoken conversation.
[ ] Disney movies still make me cry.
[ ] I've peed from laughing.
[x] I've snorted while laughing.
[x] I've laughed so hard I've cried. (All the time.)
[ ] I've glued my hand to something.
[x] I've laughed till some kind of beverage came out of my nose.
[ ] I've had my pants rip in public.


[ ] I was born with a disease/impairment.
[x ] I've gotten stitches.
[x ] I've broken a bone.
[ ] I've had my tonsils removed.
[x] I've sat in a doctors office with a friend.
[x] I've had my wisdom teeth removed.
[x] I had a serious surgery.
[x] I've had chicken pox.


[x] I've driven over 200 miles in one day. (Sooo many family trips. And, of course, road tripping with Michelle.)
[x] I've been on a plane.
[x] I've been to Canada.
[x] I've been to Mexico.
[x] I've been to Niagara Falls. (I don't remember, though, because I was 2 at the time...)
[ ] I've been to Japan.
[ ] I've Celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans. (Someday...)
[ ] I've been to Europe. (One of my life dreams)
[ ] I've been to Africa.


[x] I've gotten lost in my city (Well, I guess it depends on what you mean by 'my city')
[x] I've seen a shooting star.
[x] I've wished on a shooting star.
[ ] I've seen a meteor shower.
[x] I've gone out in public in my pajamas.
[x] I've pushed all the buttons on an elevator.
[ ] I've kicked a guy where it hurts.
[ ] I've been to a casino.
[ ] I've been skydiving.
[ ] I've gone skinny dipping.
[ ] I've played spin the bottle.
[ ] I've drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour.
[x] I've crashed a car. (Fender-bender)
[ ] I've been skiing.
[x] I've been in a play.
[x ] I've met someone in person from the internet.(Yeah, but she was a friend of a friend IRL, so it wasn't a big deal)
[x] I've caught a snowflake on my tongue.
[ x] I've seen the Northern Lights. (But I was seven, and didn't think it was cool at the time)
[ ] I've sat on a roof top at night.
[x] I've played chicken. (Which version?)
[x] I've played a prank on someone.
[x] I've ridden in a taxi.
[ ] I've seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
[ ] I've eaten sushi.
[ ] I've been snowboarding.


[ ] I'm single
[x] I'm in a relationship.
[ ] I'm engaged.
[ ] I'm married.
[x ] I've had someone cheat on me.
[ x] I've gone on a blind date.
[ ] I've been the dumpee more than the dumper.
[x] I miss someone right now.
[x] I have a fear of commitment. (Terrified, actually)
[x] I have a fear of abandonment.
[ ] I've cheated in a relationship.
[ ] I've gotten divorced.
[x] I've had feelings for someone who didn't have them back.
[ x] I've told someone I loved them when I didn't.
[ ] I've told someone I didn't love them when I did.
[x] I've kept something from a past relationship. (That 'something' being a sweatshirt that is sitting at the bottom of my dresser)


[ ] I've had a crush on someone of the same sex.
[ ] I've had a crush on a teacher.
[x] I am a cuddler.
[ x] I love to flirt.
[ ] I've been kissed in the rain.
[ ] I've been hugged by a stranger.
[ ] I have kissed a stranger.


[ ] I am a terrible liar.
[x] I've done something I promised someone else I wouldn't
[x] I've done something I promised myself I wouldn't. (...Which is why the ice cream is gone...lol)
[ ] I've snuck out of my house.
[ ] I have lied to my parents about where I am.
[x] I am keeping a secret from the world. (Oooh, lookit me, I'm MYSTERIOUS!)
[ ] I've cheated while playing a game.
[ ] I've cheated on a test.
[x] I've run a red light.
[ ] I've been suspended from school.
[ ] I've witnessed a crime.
[ ] I've been in a fist fight.
[ ] I've been arrested.
[ ] I've shoplifted.

Death and Suicide

[ ] I'm afraid of dying.
[ ] I hate funerals.
[ ] I've seen someone dying.
[x] Someone close to me has attempted suicide.
[x] Someone close to me has committed suicide.
[x] I've planned my own suicide.
[ ] I've written a eulogy for myself.


[ ] I own over 5 rap CDs.
[ ] I own an iPod or MP3 player.
[] I have an unhealthy obsession with anime/manga.
[ ] I own multiple designer purses, costing over $100 a piece. (You have GOT to be kidding me!)
[x] I own something from Hot Topic. (If it wasn't so expensive, I would get so much from there...)
[ ] I own something from Pac Sun.
[ ] I collect comic books.
[ ] I own something from The Gap.
[x] I own something I got on e-bay. (Various computer games, a couple books)
[ ] I own something from Abercrombie. (Yeah, right. Me, preppie.)

Political/Social Attitudes
[x] In general, I don't like people.
[x] I'm a feminist. (Meaning, I think women should have equal chances. No more, no less.)
[ ] I'm very outgoing.
[x ] I listen to political music. (Only if Green Day counts)
[ ] I'm Democratic.
[x] I'm Republican.
[ ] I'm liberal.
[ ] don't like Bush because he is dumb.
[ ] I don't like Bush with my own reasons to back it up.
[] I am for Bush.
[x] I'm religious. (Kind of. It's complicated)
[x] I dress fairly modestly. (For the most part, but I like corsets and leather pants, too)
[ ] My attitude is, "If you've got it, flaunt it." (Ew, no. There's too many people flaunting what they don't have, or have too much of...)


[/] I can sing well. (I can carry a tune. End of story)
[ ] I've stolen a tray from a fast food restaurant.
[ ] I open up to others easily.
[ ] I watch the news.
[ ] I don't kill bugs.
[x] I hate hearing songs that sacrifice meaning for the sake of being able to rhyme. (Like most 'Christian' songs out there...)
[x] I curse regularly.
[ ] I sing in the shower/bath.
[ ] I am a morning person. (Hell no.)
[ ] I paid for my cell phone ring tone. (I don't even HAVE a cell phone)
[x] I'm a snob about grammar. (Not quite a snob, but...)
[ ] I am a sports fanatic.
[ ] I twirl my hair.
[ ] I have "x"s in my screen name.
[] I love being neat.
[ ] I've had Spam.
[ ] I've copied more than 30 CD's in a day.
[x] I bake well.
[ ] My favorite color is either white, yellow, pink, red or blue.
[x] I would wear pajamas to school. (I have.)
[ ] I like Martha Stewart.
[x ] I know how to shoot a gun.
[ ] I am in love with love.
[ ] I am guilty of tYpInG lIkE tHiS.
[x] I laugh at my own jokes.
[ ] I eat fast food weekly.
[ ] I am online 24/7, even as an away message.
[ ] I've not turned anything in and still got an A in a certain class. (Yeah...)
[ ] I can't sleep if there is a spider in the room.
[x] I am really ticklish. (When I want to be....)
[ ] I love white chocolate. (It's not even chocolate!)
[x ] I bite my nails. (Sometimes)
[x] I play video games. (YES! )
[ ] I'm good at remembering faces.
[ ] I'm good at remembering names.
[ ] I'm good at remembering dates.
[x ] I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.
[x] My answers are totally honest.


The sea is calm tonight/The tide is full, the moon lies fair

I managed to fix the effing toilet this time. Home remedies work, at least in my case--I added some dishwashing soap....it worked. Huzzah!

I bought leather pants today. I look good in them. *squee* I've wanted leather pants for awhile now, and these were on sale, and Bekah convinced me....so, I am now the owner of a pair of black leather pants. And a really cool poster by Nene Thomas. (Eight million props to anyone who knows who Nene Thomas is.) And nifty dice. I bought a set--this really ugly pearly-orange colour, tee-hee, as well as a few barrel dice, 2 random d4's, and 3 matching d6's. Now, if I could only find my dice bag.

I was contemplating doing this posting in relation to various songs, but (sadly) most of the songs I had in mind for various situations are not currently within my mind's grasp (read: forgot).

Isaac is a sweet, sweet guy. Despite the flying monkeys.

I've lost my best friend...the one thing that I can remember the song for....

Can you look me in the eye,
And tell me that you're happy now?
Could you tell it to my face?
Have I been erased?
Are you happy now?

Jenn, I hope you are happy. Best wishes.

I found out depressing information: the Taylor divorce rate is higher (significantly) than the national average. That's scary. REALLY scary. I wonder how many Taylor students know this. Or care.

Michelle is amazing; I'm so glad we actually got to be real friends, as opposed to casual acquaintances who end up lab partners in Chem for Living. I saw her steal the show in Taylor's most recent play, "Flowers for Algernon," when she walked on stage in a jellyfish dress. No, I'm not kidding, or exaggerating. It's hard to describe, but it's impossible to miss.

Among other random incidents that have occured since the last entry:
1. Have gotten 3 quasi-random West Coast boys to profess love for me
2. Saw 2 movies in the theatre (Hoodwinked and UltraViolet), which makes a total of 4 for the school year
3. Re-did some of the furniture in the room; sadly, I still don't have enough shelf space for my books, despite packing them as tightly as I possibly could
4. Tested out of Spanish. I'm testing for credit on the 14th, I hope I pass.
5. Found out even more people don't like me, although I'm also starting to understand why people dislike me so much
6. Found out I'm not as repulsive as I've always thought
7. Found out I'm not insane
8. Started going to counseling
9. Became the prime suspect in a failed assassination attempt on the King.
10. My little brother (James) is going blind. Not cool at all.

I have to go in for my next menopause shot in about 3 weeks. It hurts like hell, and I won't be able to walk after it. Grar, I hate shots.

Things have been, all things considered, better than they have in a long while. Counseling is really helping; my counselor is really good. I'm hoping that it will help me work out my scads of issues. Or, more realistically, start working on my scads of issues.

I'm spending the weekend in Muncie, with Isaac's family. Apparently, they will shower me with terrible (and possibly funny) stories of Isaac's childhood. And teenagehood. Etc.

Alright, it's late, and I have to get up early...grr...if I'm crabby for the next....long while, it's because I didn't get to sleep in on Saturday.


Totally unoriginal....



Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray/Do not go gentle into that good night

It's really sad when:

~Using Ventrilo to talk to a couple of guys you technically don't know is the highlight of your day
~The first time you ever get flowers for Valentine's Day (and I mean EVER), they come from a girl down the hall who bought them for everybody
~You realise that some of your friends aren't actually friends
~That five years of healing were actually you getting better at ignoring the problem
~You keep trusting those who will only continue to hurt you

Things have been bad. Really bad, actually. Still are, but I can deal with it better, because I've finally pulled my head out of the sand and have decided to be pro-active, no matter how much it hurts. (I was going to say, 'Even if it kills me,' but then I realised that since it very well might, it was probably not a good choice of words)

For those wondering, I'm worse than I've ever been before. What I went through 5 years ago is a joke, compared to now...to be honest, even at this moment, the only thing staying my hand is the fear that, if I fail, I'll have to go back to a Pine-Rest-like place.

All in all, not a good reason.

And then, a couple days ago, I came to some rather upsetting conclusions, that, unfortunately, are correct; if I don't follow through with them, it will only make things worse. I'd apologise for the e-mail, Jenn, but I doubt you care, and I'm not sure I do, either, even though it nearly killed me.

Seeing the world through shattered lenses is interesting. You keep hoping that something better will come, something to glue the lenses back together; everything is tinted with hopeful light. Really, it's a shame that the glue never materialises, and the lenses are only broken into smaller bits. The hope keeps you in the same place, but in order to heal, the hope has to be kept grounded in reality.


My dreams, my works/Must wait till after hell

That about sums me up, right there. Hurray, hurray. For those of you going, 'oh geez, what now?!', I shall explain, a bit. I am single, once again. The end was quick and bitter, as the poet said...I can't say I didn't see it coming, although I will say I wish it hadn't come; at least, not come the way it did. Almost like something out of middle-school, without the screaming and yelling. Just anger and hurt. And sadness. Lots of sadness.

Let me tell you a secret, readers mine: My comments about never getting married are only somewhat true. For while I honestly do not believe that I will ever marry, it is not because I don't want to, for that is one of my strongest wishes; it is, instead, because things in my life seem to continually go to pot, so to speak. The one good relationship I had died in a car accident a year ago...So like I said, to pot.

I went out and used my gift card, the one my parents gave me for Christmas, for Barnes and Noble. I bought 2 Neil Gaiman books (Neverwhere and Smoke and Mirrors), and a nice little hardcover book of poetry called The Hell with Love. It made me happy, and the poems inside did too, so I bought it. Nothing quite like a collection of poems filled with bitterness, anger, and random swear words to brighten one's day.

Watched Serenity. It was good, but not what I was expecting from everyone's rave reviews. I definitely preferred the series to the movie, but I think that it's because there was more witty dialogue in the TV show; and they killed Wash, which was not cool. Not cool at all.

Another semester will be starting soon. I'm hoping that, with my fatigue being dealt with and a room to myself, this will be a better semester than the last one...Well, considering the last one still gives me nightmares (I had 3 in my first week in CR...I had another one 2 nights ago; all of them made me wake up in a cold sweat, nearly hysterical with panic and frustration), I certainly hope this one goes better. For those of you who pray, please pray that I will not be driven to the brink of sanity and caused to teeter precariously over the edge of it; and that I will be able to get decent sleep all semester long, instead of having to wait until the very last week to do something about it. Oh, and while I'm discussing things I hope for this semester, let's add me being able to stand up for myself and not be a doormat; to quit falling for guys who will only screw me over and leave me shattered by the wayside; and healing. Yeah, healing would be nice, especially since I'm so much worse than I let you believe....even during the moments in which I'm obviously aching and broken, you only see the surface...what you see then is my continual state of existence, only at those particular moments I'm so much worse that my safety net weakens and shows you the basic feelings that colour my perceptions.

I'm going to go read American Gods now. And then sleep, because sleep is good. Sleep is very, very good.


I could not/Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither/Living nor dead, and I knew nothing

Thgil (Andrew), you'll probably never read this, but if you do, thank you for your kindness last night. You went out of your way to reassure me that, contrary to personal opinion, I am not a horrid person or a miserable failure. I do not take your words for granted.

Michelle, thank you for putting off sleeping last night/this morning to tell me that I'm not screwed up beyond repair, and that the blame does not fall on me. You convinced me that I am worth more, deserve better; now I need to find the strength inside to demand it from others.

Whitney, thank you for loving me and caring about my well-being. You believe that I am a priceless treasure, and while I may disagree with that statement, your conviction has led me to believe that, at the very least, I deserve better than I have received.

And yet, despite the comfort and assurance received, I still am broken and hurting. I would give nearly anything to be numb; or better yet, to have answers.

Anybody feel like confronting for me? I don't have the strength to survive it...


The ways deep and the weather sharp/The very dead of winter

Mad props (*snicker*) to the first person to ID that quote--well, to anyone, really, who can ID that quote.

Stitches (the first layer) came out last week, and I'm doing relatively well. Not in as much pain anymore, and the weight loss has stopped. Still hurts, though. Especially when sneezing, which I do often due to horrific allergies.

I learned a new word yesterday: sesquipedalian. (Definition: someone who likes to use big words) I figure it rather applies to me, and Jenn, and Mateo a bit, too.

My mother bought me books, which made me happy; something like 20 new books, including Coraline by Neil Gaiman. I'd never read anything of his before, but upon Steve's recommendation, I bought the only one of his works they had available. It's a children's book, but a freaky one. I will never look at black buttons the same way again... I also got a bunch of classics, which also made me happy. A lot of them are ones I've been looking for (ie Persuasion, the Alice books, Phantom of the Opera, Dracula, etc), so now I can scratch off a portion of my "Books to Acquire" list.

I've been doing a lot of thinking of late, mostly because I'm still not well enough to leave the house, and have come to several conclusions, the first being, I have terrible health. I think my immune system, or perhaps my entire body, is out to kill me. I mean, if it's not a concussion, it's constocondritis, or really bad mono, or PCOS, etc, etc, forever and ever, amen. It would be a miracle if I could go for 6 months without an injury or illness.

Speaking of illnesses, I did some research regarding endometriosis, which is my latest medical, um, issue. Turns out, not only are there no ways to test for it, nobody knows what causes it, or how to treat it effectively (effectively in this case meaning 'make it go away for good'). The cysts and spots it causes can be surgically removed (which is what they did), but they will come back. The only treatment that works even a little is a type of hormone therapy, where the person in question is injected with a drug that shuts down ovarian function for a set time period and thereby inducing a form of temporary menopause (but without the facial hair, adam's apple, etc). 25% of people receiving this treatment have the problem return in 2 years, 60% in five. By year 10, it's back with everybody. Which doesn't bode well for me, considering my track record with disease. I'm guessing 2 years, 4 max, before it starts to come back. But to be honest, I'm glad they did something now, because the big cyst was ready to rupture, which would have caused even more problems.

But as for the second conclusion: I don't feel as though I belong--anywhere. Yes, I have good friends--Sasha, Steve, 'the guys', Austin, Sparty, Jenn, Whitney, Jon--but, with the sole exception of Austin, nobody's nearby. Which sucks, to say the least. Friendship is, and always has been, a precious thing to me--mostly because, for years and years, I didn't have any real friends. That's why I cling to them, to you, so tightly. You guys are priceless; so, so precious.

And the third, and final conclusion: The so-called mind reading Jenn accused me of in the past is growing. It has been, really, for months now. And it's starting to scare me. I'm more and more disgusted by what I see in people, that few or no others know of; but since I have no proof, I can't say anything. I can't control it, either. I've always believed that thoughts should be private--humans can't read minds for good reason. I'm not saying I can read minds; but...sometimes, more and more often now, I know things...things I have no basis for knowing, things I don't want to know, things I shouldn't know, things that it's not possible for me to know. But I do anyway.

Jenn, I blame you. The whole thing started with you...so, it's your fault. >.< (that's a squinchy-eyed face, fyi)

I don't miss Taylor. I miss classes (yes, I miss learning. I enjoy, really really enjoy, acquiring new information about things), and I miss my friends. My D&D group, Michelle, Austin...I miss you guys. A lot. But, I'll be seeing you all in a few weeks, so...yeah.