fifteen seconds

One year ago today, I tried to kill myself. And now, I am ALIVE. Breathing, bleeding, performing all of the normal bodily functions. Still confused and slipping as ever, but I think I finally am going to be ok.

Tomorrow I'm doing an interview for a major news network and I'm scared shitless. I haven't done an interview like this in such a long time and I need this to go well. I need to get back into the mentality of a fighter, a writer, the next best damn communications rep on the East Coast.

I'm too distracted, though. It's Hanakuah. I miss my family. I miss my cousins. I feel like the ugly duckling, never included or whatever. As pathetic as it is to say, I miss my mommy. I haven't seen her in a week or two and I miss her hugs and staunch analysis of my life, no matter how much it may hurt. I miss my grandma. She's dead. There's not much I can do about that one. I want to go visit her grave though, maybe when the ice melts. I haven't been back there since freshman year of college, Thanksgiving I think it was. I miss my friends. I have no friends up in Jersey.. or only like three. And with the new consulting gig, plus toy Hell, I haven't been able to head down to DC or even into the city to see anyone. I'm going a little stir crazy. Fuck that, I'm crazy.

21 soon. 21 and free. GONE. I can't wait...

oh sweet child of mine

Bean and Kaylin did it so I guess I have to hop on the bandwagon.

A
- Available: I guess that's what one calls it when they happen to be single.

- Age: 21 on 2 January!!!

- Annoyance: Not being taken seriously. Imperfection.

- Animal: White tigers.


B
- Beer: Yuengling. Or Newcastle.

- Birthday: 2 January 1988.

- Best Friend: Luke. And I guess B, when he's not being a dunce.

- Best feeling in the world: The morning of Election Day, right before the polls open. Or later that evening, watching the returns come in, either way... it's what I live for.

- Blind or Deaf: Deaf. As a writer, I think it'd kill me if I couldn't read my own work.

- Best weather: Slightly cloudy with a chance of rain.

- Been in Love: No comment.

- Been on stage?: I did theatre camp for 12 years.

- Believe in Santa: No. Being a big ole Jew, we tend to shy away from old dudes in old velvet suits.


C
- Candy: Tropical Skittles. Yessss.

- Color: Dark gray. And violet.

- Chocolate/Vanilla: Chocolate

- Cake or pie: I'm not fond of either, actually.

- Continent to visit: Africa has to be pretty sweet, I'm guessing.

- Cheese: OMGSH cheese has to be my most favorite food ever. Ever ever.


D
- Day or Night: Just before dusk.

- Dance in the rain: Always.


E
- Eyes: Dark brown, almost black.

- Everyone's got a: secret to share.

- Ever failed a class?: No. But I got straight Ds through Maths in middle/high school.


F
- Full name: {redacted}

- First thoughts waking up: Oy vey.

- Food: Uni sashimi with a ginger miso emulsion.


G
- Greatest Fear: failing. I know it's cliche, but it's true. Oh, that and being forgotten.

- Goals: 1)graduate by this time next year, 2)have my own apartment in the East Village, 3)publish SOMETHING...ANYTHING... by my 22nd birthday, 4)write something so mindblowingly amazing, it's known around the world as one of the most thought provoking pieces, ever.

- Gum: I don't really chew gum.

- Get along with your parents?: Negatory, batman.

- Good luck charm: Play bracelet.

H
- Hair Color: Brown, soon to be dark brown.

- Height: short. 5'5" maybe?

- Happy: Happiness is a state of mind, not a state of being.

- Holiday: Passover for the tradition, Yom Kippur because Kol Nidre is beautiful.

I
- Ice Cream: Wine sherbert from Whole Foods, please.

- Instrument: Piano.


J
- Jewelry: Peace sign ring that was Chandi's.

- Job: Toystore. For now.


K
- Kids: Fun unless I have to keep them.

- Kickboxing or karate: Kickboxing is amazing for your ass.


L
- Longest Car Ride: Nj to NC.

- Love: It's the only thing to believe in.

- Letter: Q. It seems kind of lonley up there at the top of the keyboard.

- Laughed so hard you cried: Always. Laughing is fun times, son.

M
- Milk flavor: Soy.

- Movies: ANything Tim Burton or Kubrick.

- Motion sickness? Never. Thank God.

- McD’s or BK: Neither. That's grossness.


N
- Number of Siblings: One Brother, one stepbrother.

- Number of Piercings: Seven. Five in each ear, tongue, industrial.

- Number: 538.


O
- One wish: Go back to 2 November 2006.

P
- Perfect Pizza: White on a whole wheat crust with fresh basil.

- Pepsi/Coke: Diet Coke.


Q
- Quail: Like Quailman from Doug? He was funny, with his undies outside his shorts and a belt on his head.


R
- Reason to cry: Nothing is worth the tears right now.

- Radio Station: NPR.

- Ring size: 6, I think.


S
- Song: Wow. I can't choose. Let's roll with "Cath" from Deathcab for right now.

- Salad Dressing: Just a little lemon juice on the side, please.

- Sushi: Toro or uni if it's super fresh.

- Skipped school: been there, done that.

- Slept outside: All the time when it's not cold.

- Shower daily?: Twice a day.

- Sing well? No, but that doesn't stop me.

- In the shower?: Yes, till I start swallowing soapy water.

- Swear?: Yes. I cuss. Fuck.

- Strawberries/Blueberries: Strawberries!!


T
- Time for bed: After midnight, before One unless I'm out.

- Thunderstorms: Best weather ever.


U
- Unpredictable: Shock 'em like only the best can.


V
- Vacation spot: Jersey shore. I know it's cheesy, but I have a strange love for LBI.


W
- Weakness: Piercing eyes, Democrat, musical, animal lover, cynical, witty, has values and stands up for them, as smart if not smarter than me.

- Which one of your friends acts the most like you: Christine.

- Worst feeling?: Knowing, regardless of anything you could have done, he will never be yours.

- Wanted to be a model?: Absolutely.

- Where do we go when we die?: In the ground to rot. FUCK THAT. I want a party, with the most badass of playlists and my ashes shot out of fireworks, like Thompson.


X
X-Rays: All over, to the point where I should be glowing.


Y
-Year it is now: 2008.

-Yellow: lemon.

Z
- Zoo animal: Snakes.

skin and bones on prom night

Right now I'm sitting on my well-worn sofa, drinking a glass of ice water with fresh lemon, with one of my kitties swaddled between the cushions to my left. I'm watching the hideous film, Black Snake Moan, solely because Christina Ricci in it looks perfectly emaciated. Every rib, outlined expertly and showing the sharpest of constrasts to her babyface. She is eveverything that I want to be and will never be.

Fuck.

Oh. Ps. Bea died.

ad vitam paramus

Art is a fickle thing.

Constantly evolving, an effervescent accruement of flesh and bone casually tossed among veins pulsating with every single twitch, we are nothing more than the original instillation art piece.

Our venue: the chair I now sit in, the bed on which we made love, the now-dying grass flattened between your wandering toes, the grotesquely unappealing aisles of the corner market marred by sole marks.

It is (we are?) everywhere. It is (we are?) nowhere.

The ultimate ashes-to-ashes; Alice sees the project and begins amalgamating herself to be the person SHE wants to be known as after death. Alice gives up everything she is for her contribution, if you will, to the work. But, by altering even one aspect of the predicated norm, she throws the whole piece off. Alice, instead of her normal quad-shot skim latte from the new swank coffee shop across town decides to make her own coffee this morning. Tom, her barista, doesn't get to finally spill his profound disgust to Alice-after having seen her weathered lips all over another man's dick at a film last weekend. And so on...

It is far too cliche to say our actions are interconnected, as is the contrite golden-rule.

I say, fuck 'em all. It's not supposed to be perfect.

hear me out

I don't know how long this post will be. See, I just took a sleeping pill for the first time in a while. I needed something to help me unwind, relax, pass out. And this was the way to go. As I type this, I feel my eyelids getting heavier and the weight of the day lifting off my bare shoulders. I miss sleep. I cherish it, the replenishment.

new commandments

- Worship the Goddesses wholeheartedly. If you fuck up, they WILL leave you.

- You've made your decision. If you stop, the pain will be forever.

- Emotion is against the rules.

-Perfection is the only thing left to believe in, the only thing left to obtain.

-Hate the present, love the future.

-There's always more to be done.

-Perfection is the only freedom left.

-Believe in control. It's the only force powerful enough to bring order to this chaos.

-QMNMD. Forever.

-Do not listen to anyone but the Goddesses. Everyone else is trying to destroy you.

-It's worth whatever it takes.

-Trust Polly, she had it right.


(IfuckingloveyouPollyandmissyousoGoddamnedmuch)
(ThnxforleavingmeherePollyIdontknowhowtolivewithoutAnaandMiaandmycoach)
(YoucouldhavetoldmePollyIwouldhavegonewithyouinaheartbeat)

Angels, press on.

love of mine, some day you will die

I'm not immortal. As much as I'd like to be, I will die. We all will. My death is your death is the death of our barista is the death of your attorney is the death of your teacher is the death of your lover is the death of us all. We are all dying, constantly. And there is nothing we can do about it. We solely live in order to die.

Mad, no?

My stepmother's grandmother is dying. Bea. She's in the hospital and has been since Saturday morning. On a vent and unable to come off, she is heavily sedated. Oh, and she's 99. I don't understand. She has gone from fairly coherent and mobile to lying in a hospital bed, unaware. It's sad. But, she is so old. She's lived through both World Wars and Vietnam, the advent of the automobile as well as electricity and telephones, voting rights for women and people of color. She is a primary source to the history books. That's mind-blowing.

Of course we're all hoping Bea will get better, but it really is the beginning of the end. If she makes it out of this, she will need a nursing home, of 24/7 home care. Plus, she has a DNR.

The stepmother doesn't quite know how to deal with this. It's not as if she was close to Bea, but it is her grandmother. I hate to say that I'm good with this dying thing, but I am. I've been through it times and times before with my grandparents. I know how to negotiate the system and when to say stop. Yet, I'm not allowed to go to the hospital with the stepmom. Because I'm not blood, I'm not going to be an affective advocate for Bea. Whatever. That's ridiculous.

I know when she dies, I'm not going to cry. Or maybe I am. I actually don't know and don't know why I just said that I know that I would not. I cried at my grandmother's funeral. Like an infant. I was inconsolable. I thought I was going to be ok... just sniffling through the ceremony but as we left the funeral home, I lost it. My cousin's boyfriend had to calm me down, it was kind of embarrassing. I was young then, though. 15, maybe 16. Not as cynical, jaded, dark and twisty.

Christmas won't be the same though, without Bea.

the weight of the world is love

I love that Ginsburg quote. Maybe the oversexed drug addict had something going for him... Such a profound statement "the weight of the world is love", with such a simple meaning. The world is carried by the most complex and in the same, simple, idea of love. If I had a soul, I may even think of that as a beautiful idea. But I don't. Whoops.

I love. I have love. There is a difference. A strong one. Love, in my mind is for more serious things... relationships, the Goddesses, my candidates, the few people I let get close to me. Whereas, I have love for much more; family, West Wing, wine, a good book, a great fuck. And it is the quiet dance between the two loves that make the world work.

As a little girl, I couldn't wait to fall in love. And now that I have, and have gotten hurt, I do not want to go back. I fell hard and I'm still working on picking up the pieces. And while I'm working on that, I can't wait to fall again.

Looking for love in all the wrong places doesn't even begin to describe the process, though. I don't even know what I'm looking for. I know. Pathetic. I want to be loved so badly I put myself through so many bad dates, on which I spend the entire time convincing myself that it's not as bad as it seems (when really it's much worse...). I sleep with married men to feel loved. Needed. Desired. Then try to convince them of my need for them in my life. Forever. Love will not come from that, I know. But on the off chance that it does, I'm willing to try anything.

I need my world to bring me back down.

undeniable

I messed up. B, I am sorry. I fell for you. I know I wasn't supposed to get attached. But I did. Tonight was supposed to be perfect... video games and booze. Except little miss bulimia here didn't not purge today. Yup. I had soup and purged around lunch. And that was what I wanted to tell you all day, B. That's what made my day horrendous. It wasn't the boss yelling at me. It wasn't having spawn bite me. It was failing.

Yet another nail in the coffin of goals and such. I'm probably not going back to school next semester, B. Too damn scared.

I AM SCARED OF EVERYTHING. EVEN BREATHING. IT IS GOING TO STOP ONE DAY AND I DO NOT KNOW IF I CAN DEAL WITH THAT.

I need this to not be happening. I am extremely unhappy. I am extreme.y on the brink. After tonight, for the first time in a long time, I am scared for myself. Not to the point where I should check myself in.... but pretty close. I know what I need. It's CJH. It's P. It's Michael. It's Maceo. But of those four things.... I can have exactly zero.

(Screw drowning, I'm capsizing....)

B, I'm sorry for dragging you into this. Whenever you want out, just say the word. You don't need a reason, I'll understand.

another sunny day in hell

I am not quite. Not quite anything, actually. Blurring the fine line between sanity and not, with just enough disdain for both options to continue toeing the line.

And I want to leave. Head far, far away and begin anew. Except that I tried that once and it did not work out so well.

I don't know what I am doing.

what i see

Secrets, secrets are no fun. They just are not. And it is with that in mind, I spill...

-I am withholding. B, I know I told you that I am not. I lied. Sorry. I'm not going to tell you everything outright. That would leave nothing to be discovered. Just ask. Be specific. I'll disclose.
-I love drugs. Always have, always will. But that does not mean I will always abuse them.
-2398439752 times a day I think about purging.
-I truly believe that I am the next great American author.
-I'm scared. Of everything.
-I haven't been to the doctor since my physical before college.
-I still sleep with a stuffed animal. Or three.
-Bipolar, I'm not. But I am manic. Very.
-I never learned how to properly spell.
-Same goes for math.
-I don't know how many people I've slept with. I stopped counting after high school.
-I've never used needle drugs. Only because track marks are kind of cliche.
-I belong on Height-Ashbury circa 1960. I think I'd work well there, no?
-I still listen to the Spice Girls.
-My favorite color combination is plum with dark grey and muted turquoise.
-I broke a mirror in 9th grade.
-My luck didn't change.
-No candidate I have worked for has won. Ever.
-I dislike most people.
-I quit riding because I was afraid of being anything less than the best.
-I think I would have gotten along really well with the Beats.
-If you don't read, you can't be my friend.
-I hate my cousin and stepmom for having taken the two careers I wanted (communications consultant, photographer).
-I left Hood because I couldn't deal with living in the country anymore.
-High school was Hell for me.
-Actually... all school was.
-I don't want to finish my degree.. but I know I have to.
-People I date have a bad habit of trying to fix me.
-I'm still in love with Michael. But it's ok. I'm not going to marry him.
-I love running. Take that as you will.
-I can't sleep. Ever.
-Thinspo gets me through the day.
-I ran away in high school.
-Morbidly obese people scare the living Hell out of me.
-I want to fuck the living daylights out of David Duchovny.
-I think Tim Burton is a genius.
-I'm immune to violence.
-"Full Metal Jacket" didn't bother me. At all.
-P makes me feel more relevant than you ever could.
-J just makes me feel sexy.
-I can't parallel park.
-I have no idea why, but I don't feel bad.
-CJH saved my life. Bitch.
-I made out with my swim coach in middle school.
-99.9% of my scars were my own doing.
-I'm falling for you.
-I love grunge rock.
-I want to be the intelligent Courtney Love.
-Bleached out hair and all.
-I love getting inked.
-I wrote a novella in high school.
-I'm too scared of rejection to actually submit anything I write except to bullshit publications.
-I'm friends with a publisher at S&S and plan to use his friendship solely for connections.
-I don't feel at home anywhere.
-I've never been fishing.
-You keep me going. And that's amazing.

That's all. For now.

cold and broken hallelujah

Selfish, lost and unable to see the consequences of anything I have done or am doing. As I am typing this, a marriage is collapsing (possibly two...) and I am to blame. Little children cannot keep them hands to themselves, I suppose, especially not in a toy store. It is as if I ran through the store playing with every toy, and when I bored of their plastic, left them for dead in the center of the aisle. No matter if they happen to break or if one happens to trip over them, I have rid myself of their manufactured juvenility and thus hold no responsibility. Except that I am to blame. Of course. It does not matter that J and P have (had) the dream; wife, house, 2.3 brats to look after. One glare that lingered a little longer than it should have and they were mine... sinking into the abyss. I am where normalcy goes to die.

And it is not as if I intended it to get this bad. J and P were both something to do, nothing more. I was bored, they flattered me and I went with it. Do I regret having that last drink, grabbing his hand and letting him take me home? No (maybe?). It was fun, each time. I felt amazing, free, everything you are told not to feel because it is dirty and wrong and shameful and all of those words used to scare little girls into chastity... I felt it. Sorry, Mumsie Dearist: your little girl wasn't spending time drawing inspiration (ok, so maybe I was, in a way). No, I was too busy using my knees for what the Good Lord intended. Oops?

But now, J and P and the others... all of the others, I have lost track to exactly how many... will not leave me alone. Why is it impossible for men to see me as a one-night stand when it is clear that I have no actual interest in anything other than their cock? Why must they see me as something to be fixed? If I wanted to become a clone, I could. But I am having too much damn fun figuring this out on my own. I do not need their help (but of course, if the help comes in monetary form... or shoes... I will be happy to take it off your hands) nor do I really want it. J and P, however will not leave me alone. They intend to break me of my evil ways. Reform me, if you will. Despite they have their own lives to fix. With P, I do not matter as much. He is a great person... fucking brilliant and his connections are priceless. I can use P. But J? There is nothing there for me to even take. He does something with computers. I do not know jack shit about computers or technology or anything in the related field, nor do I care. He is not attractive. At all. And he is not fun to go out with. Why bother with him, I do not know. But he sure wants to be part of my life.

I use men. I am very aware of this. It is fun for me to see how much I can get away with. I will be the worst brat and still J and P keep coming back. If I actually had feelings for either, I would not use them. I would not want anyone to be on the receiving end of my manipulation.

I am just that damn good.

love is not a victory march

I am on the brink. Of what, I do not know. All I know is that I am there and I do not like it even in the slightest.

Danger, Will Robinson. I cannot stop moving. For the mere seconds I stop shaking, my mind is racing... so there really is no point in even attempting to stop.

This is not healthy.

I am completely sober and I feel like I have done a bad speedball. I hate speedballs to begin with. There is no reason, in my mind, to mix blow and speed. For me, whenever I had done one, I would have panic attacks not even an overdose on Xanax could quell. And I am not in a panic right now. But it could very easily become that. Just one thing could set me off and then BAM!

I am not healthy.
This is not right.
I should not be feeling this way.

This was my first Thanksgiving where I did not purge anything. I want to just shove my fingers down my throat and do it, but now there is no point. And, I do not really want to. If I did, it would be out of sheer habit.

By all accounts, I should be having a great evening. I had a fairly good day, baking with Lesley then doing the Thanksgiving thing; after which I watched movies and talked with B. But I am not.

I do not think it is the B situation. He is not a situation. I should not say that. But I am going to, for lack of better terminology. I know he is going to read this and I do not care. [B, if you are reading this right now, feel free to ask me about it later. I am an open book with you, punk]. He is good for me. He is nice, genuinely so. For some reason, I can trust him. I do not do not do not do not do not trust people. Ever. And he could fuck me over in a heartbeat. But I do not care. Maybe I am being reckless in taking down the wall with him. I probably am. B could be a psycho who is using me, just as I use everyone else. But I truly do not think he is. And if he is, he is better at it than me, so Mazel Tov. I am not good at talking to people. And I can talk to him. About everything. We have at least touched on some of the big ones: blowsmurfy, Patrick, my (hopefully, and I really do mean hopefully) former propensity towards attempting to out myself. And he is still here. This has never EVER happened before. I am a little thrown by it. This is so new for me. I feel like I am taking a major risk in doing this but B and I have only known each other for a month and we are close. Legitimately so. And we have fun hanging out, which I think is important. It is not always the serious stuff... Prime example: earlier on the phone, we were talking about Mumbai how atrocious it is that humanity still permits said acts to occur and I somehow jumped to Rubber Duckies (like for the bath). And it just made sense. He permits this... I do not know why. But it makes me happy and stuff. And last evening, just hanging out with him. We watched this great film that I had never seen and then just talked. And it was kind of perfect... I kept catching myself thinking "so this is what normal people do in the evenings... cool" and I am serious about it. I am being normal. And that is a little scary for me.

I am very discontent. I am holding my breath then gasping. I have forgotten how to breathe.

How can I forget how to breathe? It is the most basic of human actions, without breath... nothing. I am not intentionally trying to stop breathing but something in my head is keeping me from doing so and I have to remind myself to inhale/exhale. Sad. Pathetic, no? Perplexing, more so than anything else. Worrisome, obviously.

Patrick is taking off for LA Wednesday. Maybe I should go with him. The thing is, I know if I went with him I would not come back and nor would he. I do not really want to run away with him, I do not think. I just, right now, am so scared.

This is the first time in a long time I have not been in some sort of a relationship. WEIRD. Sucky, but needed. I need to work on being ok alone. It is not the end of the world to just be. It is actually healthy.

FUCK why can I not stop wigging? Fuck it. Fuck fuck fuckidy fuck fuck. Fuck it all.

I fucking need to get the fuck out of fucking here. Go underground for a while maybe? Figure out what I need and where to get it and just do it. No, I know what I need and I am not going to do that because I am better than that. But I need a replacement. And fast.

freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose

I'm kind of dying. The mind games, they're getting to me. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I'm too damn strong to let some washed-up pseudo publisher with a big dick and an amazing smile to get inside my mind. I'm doing no one but myself harm by dwelling on him. I can't have him and that is (or should be) that.

I don't like not getting what I want. I'm actually rather poor at it. I'd work on it, but who has the time?

_________________________________________

The semester is almost out. Hoodrats want me to come for a visit. I know I should... I just don't know if I want to. It shouldn't feel like an obligation to go see friends. I want to see Luke. I miss Luke. I miss Bean. And Mike. And Christine. And that's about it. I like other people there. I have friends there... I just don't really miss any of them.

Mike wouldn't be fun now, though. He has a legit girlfriend and loses all control around me. He'd refuse to see me, or he'd see me... we'd party... and there would be drama.

I'm kind of on a drama-free diet right now.

________________________________________

I don't feel well. I want to purge but I have nothing but tea in me. And I know I'd feel worse after. Shit.

At least I'm being somewhat rational.

I'll purge when I can swallow. Yes. Perfect.

tea and tears

My congressional candidate lost. Again. I feel like I'm in the same place as two years ago, except back then I had something to return to. Now... nothing.

So what if Barack won? Yes. A Democratic presidency. It's a great thing. We'll be able to acomplish so much legislatitavly, like SCHIP and inreased funding for public education.

I'm not excited.

_______


I'm actually really confused. I don't know where to go from here. No school. No job. I'm a glorified bum. If I had money, I'd be down in Florida with Michael. In my mind, I know he wants me. I know the second he sees me, he will fall in love with me all over again and will beg me to never leave his side. He will be my Knight in Combat Boots.

Except the second I step back from that dream, I know that I'm nothing more than a fun fuck to him.

And that's all I'll ever be.

and we lost... my thoughts on NJ-7

In the tidal wave of hope and change, we got lost. Confused. Scared. The mistakes made by Linda Stender's campaign last cycle were exposed and maybe even magnified in this year's go-around. And what do we end up with, after 2+ years of blood and tears for the 7th district...

nothing but a damn lot of should have, would have, could have.

Kudos to NJDSC for running a very comprehensive field program, capitalizing on Obama's focus on grassroots. It brought in volunteers for Linda, under the guise of helping the top of the ticket. Once they were in, we helped them fall in love with her, cleverly pointing out that there's no point in having a Democrat in the White House if we don't have a Congress we can work with (i.e. SCHIP). The field team was composed of the most talent I've seen in a long time, with Jorge Santos and Travis Levitt at the reins. Sold red towns were canvassed (Clark, Warren) with the sole purpose of maintaining a presence even in areas that had no hope. Each organizer, responsible for their towns, created a comprehensive plan and established a volunteer base previously unseen in the district.

And now for what went wrong...

Emily's List. Two words to fuck a campaign sideways with an ice-pick. Yes, they enabled Heather DeJong to raise ridiculous amounts of money, but that came with a major caveat. They controlled the message. In a year when the economy was the number one, two, three & four issue for a strong majority of voters, the last six weeks were spent talking about reproductive rights. Unacceptable. I'm just as pro-choice as the next person, but when you're running against a candidate who successfully played himself off as a moderate on choice... not a good move. In addition, E-List pushed very strongly for the hiring of Irene Lin as communications director. Lin came with an impressive resume but not much to back it up. When you're given full control over a campaign's message and you turn the focus away from what the rest of the candidates are talking about, you don't deserve to cry as the returns come in.

Mismanagement and fear perpetuated by the broken wheel in the finely tuned machine is purely what E-List has become for Linda.

She deserved so much more than a second chance at failure.

You Just Gotta Do it!

liquorology

I'm in love with David Duchovny. And now that he's back on the market, I think I may have to have him. Those eyes are absolutely smothering. I'd give anything to just be that girl... to have him stare at me in that way and make love to me like a hurricane. He may be as fucked up as I am, and I'm ready to find out. 

I've also come to the conclusion that I'm a liquor-fiend. But it's ok, because now I'm a whisky girl. I go for the things that are like me. I basically am the human whisky. I'm raw. You know exactly what you're getting. I let you hurt and warm you in the same moment. I burn. Either that or I'm vodka... able to amagalmate to everything. Classless and classy in the same moment. 

I'm thinking of dropping off the grid after the election, for a month or two. Any ideas as to where I should hide out? Spain, maybe. Or Brazil. Maybe somewhere in Africa or the Middle East. 

I just have to get out of here. Preferably with David. 

what don't you know

would shock you. 

27days

i want to win. i need it to be election day already. i'm already living off caffiene, cigs, booze and hope. with some change.

linda's gonna lose. barack's gonna lose.

and i'm going to cry. perhaps die.

who knows?

injection

I'm really depressed. Depressing. Sad. Saddening. Over the past few days, I've managed to regress from the uber-confident pseudosocialite that I'd become into the scared little girl of my past. I don't know what it is. No. I do. This time of year is always hard on me.

If anything... I feel very September. The month of the slowly dying sun, where the incessant cries of summertime morph into the dronings-on of the 40 (or in my case 100) hour work week. Flowers brown and die, along with the feelings of a future I've tried to force on myself for the past months. 

(Please pardon my emo-ness... I really can't help it.)

I miss school. Not college, but the clusterfuck of high school where I knew walking in every day... I'd be nothing more than a no-name. No expectations for someone with no backstory. I hated high school... hated it to the point where every day was a bloody struggle, but yet I want to go back. I miss no one knowing. Now everyone knows. I miss being invisible. 

I don't want to have to walk into the office every day and put on my happy face. I've been doing it since July and I don't know how much longer I can. I'd rather be invisible than fake. Because that's all I am at GCI. To my coworkers I'm the slutty, outgoing ditz who just happens to be good at this. Nothing more, nothing less. I've mentioned numerous times that I write, that I actually give a shit about policy, that I legitimately think I can save the world one day. But does any of that matter... nope. I'm just the girl who walks in every day, looking put-together with a huge smile on her face. I'd love to be able to walk into work, just once, in comfy clothes. I'm not talking scrubby sweats or anything. Just a tee-shirt and nice jeans and tennies. And having to put on such a farce, day after day, I think has finally gotten to me. 

For the past few days, I just haven't been able to bring myself to go into work. I've laid in bed, watching Mark Harmon's ungodley sexiness on NCIS and cried. Cried for what I've given up to work with GCI... the start of my junior year of college, South Africa, Omri, Linda's race. Cried for giving up Linda's race... how could I have been so stupid?... Nick, Jorge, Heather... my REAL campaign family. Cried for how much I could have... love, a book deal, the Goddesses.

But they're all gone.

Instead, I'm stuck in a job I've committed myself to till at least after the Election (lest a two week break for a return to Linda-land for GOTV). I've given up writing. I've lost my chance with the campaign family (I will forever be known as the one who left). And I will never be loved.

I think, more than anything... I just want someone to hold me and tell me it will be ok. Preferably Michael. GOD. Michael's mad at me. I don't know what I did, but I can feel it. I miss knowing he was always there for me. I need that assurance, that gratification. And now... I'm drifting.

I feel so isolated from GCI. Right now, the social butterfly said she'd attend a party in Brooklyn tonight. But instead, I'm at home in my safe, little apartment. I'm too scared to go. 

I can't let them get close to me. It already happened once... and I have to start weining myself off them. So when it happens, it's an easy break.

I miss Nick. I saw him the other day at the mall and he was disgusted by me. Absolutely repulsed. I need him to tell me it's going to be ok. And I couldn't even get a sense of awknowledgement. 

I want it to all be over. September is always hard... I'm not good in these in-between months. 

catapult

The past few days have been maddening. Everyone in the GCI office has a cold, is getting over a cold or is getting said cold. And that's just really no bueno for two reasons; firstly, even though I've cut down my schedule a lot... I still spend a lot of hours a week either in the office or out & about with the officefolk. Therefore, it's just natural that we share the same germs, transmitted by sharing the same plate of awesomely greasy vegetable fried rice, the errant cigarette, et al. Hence, it's only natural that we all get sick together. 

Secondly, we only have 40 days left till the election. I honestly was contemplating not working today because I feel so lousy but I know that if I don't work a day when I theoretically could have sucked it up... and we lose this baby... I may actually die. This race is too damn important to not just pop the extra DayQuill and get over it. 

I don't knowww... my throat hurts a lot though.

Today is going to be an angry bitch. =( 

first time

I'm an escape artist, I've come to realize. When life throws me under the proverbial bus (or so it seems, even though most situations I get myself in are purely a result of my own selfish needs) I run away. Leave everything behind and try to begin anew. It's very immature of me to believe that wherever I run off to this time, my problems will remain behind... because they don't. I can't just escape and put a band-aid on the ouchie that moment of my life has become. 

I went down to Hood for a visit earlier this week and it was... surreal. Nothing had changed, whatsoever. Yes, the influx of bratty freshman and the destruction of all traditions that held the 200-year old school together remained intertwined amongst the pathways I wandered for the better part of the past two years. My friends were the same. Completely. Lily is still the overachieving, people-pleaser who's just too darn (because she would never grow the set big enough to allow her to say damn) scared to tell people how she really feels. Darrell is the male version of Lily, but he cusses like a sailor and still resents me. Logan is still my counterpoint to the ninth degree. And Mark... just laying there with him made time stop. I know it's the biggest cliche in the book but despite all the drama  we caused each other... I'm still sort of majorly in love. 

Sigh.....

one more taste of gin and we're intact...

There's a fine line between being secretive and being completely hidden. And right now, I'm toeing the line. The really sick thing is that I don't hate what I've become... I'm thriving off it. I love leading multiple lives. I'm no longer the boring, slightly conservative girl from the suburban hell of NJ. 

I'm that girl, plus:

~the 20-something glamazon with the perfect life

~the tortured writer-artsy type

~the heartless bitch who will do anything to get ahead

~the constant flirt

 (Because all of those things are mutually exclusive.)

And... there's so much I just want to scream. I just want to let go... let it all out. I'm not far from drowning in the secrets I keep. But I'm swimming and it's getting harder and harder to throw my arms out of the waves as they pound against me. I just need to let them go. Let go of my secrets and finally begin to LIVE. So here goes... I'm in love with a guy that I effectively know nothing about even though we've been together forever. I'm not over Hillary not being the nominee, as much as I deny it. I believe that torture works. I'm not as broken as I come off, but nor am I as happy as I seem. I love money. I love having things. I'm extremely reckless because I'm constantly waiting for someone to tell me that I"m worth fighting for. I'm probably going to be an addict when I grow up (if I'm not already). If given the chance, I'd publish my full memoir and full collection of poetry under my true name, not for the exposure but for the chance to shock the living fuck out of my parents. I revel in being a slut because I love the attention. I get very, very jealous. I know I'm at risk of breaking up Patrick's perfect life, but I'm falling for him in the worst way. I'm bailing on Hood, not because I got into Columbia but because I can't hide there anymore. If I'm not in a constant state of crisis, I start getting panic attacks. I despise pretty people but wont associate with the uglies, unless they're gross enough to make me look amazing. I don't trust anyone anymore. I love playing guys... it makes me feel so powerful. I am a total power trip addict. I live for politics not because I love it, but because it's the ultimate pool of power, sex and scandal. I'm pretty hardcore bulimic. I think I'm going through withdrawal from God and I'm not necessarily upset. I know I'm going to Hell... even though I don't really believe in anything anymore. I do most of what I do just to shock people. I can't go anywhere alone... or even be any place alone without panicking. I want to be Sylvia Plath and have found my Anne Sexton, but she's not as fucked-up as I need her to be, yet. I'm manipulating Patrick... but I really like him so... SHIT. I've found an agent a publisher but am too scared to actually publish in anything other than the anthologies because of the attention I might get. After the election, I plan on running away if we're not together (you can guess who the other half of the equation is... and if you do, tell me... because I don't know). 

Wow. I needed that. 

comment puis-je pas?

I think I'm having 2006 regrets all over again. I regretted going to school in Fall '06 because I wasn't able to live, breathe Linda's race. But now, I'm not in school... I'm somewhat working for the party, for Linda. However, she's not my first priority when she should be. 

I walked into her campaign's new diggs Saturday morning... and something just clicked. I miss it. I miss the excitement of the 7th district, where four years ago it was unthinkable that we'd have a viable candidate now. In a woman, nonetheless. I'm all for female candidates, don't get me wrong... but the 7th is about 50 years back in terms of female equality, or any equality for that fact. This is a place where the three-letter f-word gets thrown around, often in the same phrase as the n-word. I miss walking into the office, every day with a big cup of coffee and just pounding out issue briefs and speeches. Talking to the press, no problem. Spinning a story, I'm on it. I miss having the opportunity to control the entire message of a congressional race for a candidate I adore. 

That's really what I'm good at, not this grassroots thing. I don't know how to do canvass, have people open their checkbooks and minds to a scrappy kid from Jersey and have them give a massive contribution to the DNC ($28,500 please). Yeah, I've done somewhat well. But somewhat doesn't cut it, especially not in an election year. 

And, maybe more than anything, I miss the campaign family. Saturday was really hard for me, being in the office. The new kids have their own banter and I'm on the outside. At least Jorge and Heather were there. Jorgie... what is there to be said about him? He's known me for 4 years and basically talked me through running Jardim's mayoral in '05, not only saving my tush but the entire campaign. (Who the HELL was I to think I could run a mayoral- or any- campaign at age 17? Seriously...) He's been the one to pick me up on my worst days, throw me a cigarette and make me come back the next day. I think my favorite memory of him was, Election night '06, we were outside the hotel where Linda's losing victory party was being held. Of course, we were having cigarettes and were slightly drunk... despite getting a solid majority in the House. 'Cause, fuck. When your candidate loses, that's what you do. Anyway... Jorge and I were just sitting on the curb outside when he made it very clear that I can write a damn good speech. From him, the one who taught me basically everything I know about campaigns... I don't know... it didn't suck to hear.

And Mrs. Heather. During '06, she was Linda's finance director. For a while, it was just me, her, Jorge and two other staffers so we became pretty close. And she's tough as nails. I don't think I'd be as tough as I am without her. When Michael went back to Iraq, Heather called me at 7am, asked why my ass wasn't in the office doing press work. That's just the kind of person she is... she knows when you need a distraction and will make sure that you will be focused. 

Anyway... it was great seeing them both. I miss my loves. It's so weird, not being there. This is the first cycle in four years that I'm not working the race in the 7th full-time. 

I guess I could always go back for GOTV. 

67 days...

We're in the middle-double-digits now till we hopefully end the Republican tyranny. And I'm not convinced. Right now, I'm watching Barack's acceptance speech on CNN, drinking a really nice glass of Merlot and thinking how much this sucks. I'm out there every day, working to try to elect someone I'm not sure I believe in yet. 

I mean, I have nothing against the guy. He probably can do the job, and do it well. Or at least better than the Bush double the GOP in all their wise wisdom put up this time around. His wife is awesome, his kids are adorable, his VP choice in Biden was/is impeccable. He's progressive, pro-choice, pro-ending the Iraq debacle, has a pretty solid healthcare policy. But still... I am not convinced.

Oy vey.

Why can't I just get over it? 

s'il vous plaît ne pas me détester

Here's the deal:

I am a hooker. Prostitute. Hoe. Slut. Whore. Jezebel. Skank. Call girl. All of the aforementioned names and more. And that doesn't even begin to paint the picture of what really went on (and could theoretically still be happening).

A few short weeks ago, I checked my bank balance at the neighborhood branch in the hopes of having enough money to pay for groceries. Guess the Gods weren't aligning in my favor because my balance was $-331.47. Yes, you read that correctly. Negative three hundred thirty one dollars and forty-seven cents. And this was after I deposited my meager paycheck that can be seen as nothing more than a pittance for those crazy or dumb or idealistic (probably a solid combination of the three) to actually work for a campaign. 

What's a girl to do? I left the bank in a furious rage and went home to weigh my options. I knew I needed money, and fast (Ramen noodles and PB&J sandwiches can only last so long). Plus, as always, there is/was bills to pay. I had two options, viable ones-at least. One thing you have to realize about me (if you haven't already) is that I'm too proud for my own good. I could never ask for money from friends or family. It would be weak and I'm better than that. That gave me the choice of either leaving GCI which has become my new campaign family or obtain an additional source of income. So I started scanning Craigslist for odd jobs and noticed a couple enticing ads under the most sexually explicit of categories. Most were in search of a mere place for said male to stick his dick in, and...as grotesque as this is/was... I was/am interested. I know... I have no semblance of self-worth and don't regard sex as something special. For me, at this point, it's merely going through the motions towards an obvious end. 

And... fuck... I answered one. Only one. It was looking for a girl to pamper, if I recall correctly, and offered a substantial donation for services rendered. Just what I needed, right? Something I'm good at and an easy way to land some cold hard cash. So I exchanged emails at first with the guy (let's call him Patrick) and he seemed articulate and overall legit. After some desperate soul-searching, I decided I had no other choice but to see him, and off it went. 

After leaving the GCI office one day, I took a cab (how delightfully decedent of me!) to his office with one mission: do the dead and land some much-needed dough. But the second I saw Patrick, I kind of melted. He was hot. Not like Johnny Depp, wanna fuck your brains out in the middle of Times Square with my grandmother watching hot... but in a more complex way. He seemed almost desperate for me to just give him a blowjob. It was adorable, but pathetic. The quintessential dichotomy needed in my book to be able to manipulate someone. And manipulate away, I did. 

I feel like I should probably say that I didn't mind giving him head. In fact, it was the first time in a long time that I felt powerful. In control. Desired. And we all know what a glutton I am for that sort of attention (or any attention, nowdays).

So a few days later, I text him and offer up a more lucrative offer. He accepts. Same sort of situation, except this time Patrick took me out for drinks at a pretty swank bar. Nice of him. But... I guess that's when the trouble started. We started talking. Like really talking about our families and pasts. Things became real. He has a kid, a wife, a perfect upper-class life. And I don't. Nor is/was there a place for me in his, I guess.

Anyway, I got an email from him today that it's over. I guess that's ok. Except that in the email, he referred to me as damaged. I'm not. I'm perfectly aware of what I'm doing to myself, literally selling myself. 

And while I'm a little peeved at Patrick for not having the balls to cut it off face to face so I could see the crinkle in his eyes as he smiles in the most genuine of ways, or at least via phone call so I could hear his bell-like voice... I'll be ok. 

I'm a tough kid.

PLUS...

The way I figure, there's not much left worth selling.

And, I know you're going to read this and freak out. How could I do this? How could I let this happen to me? In truth, I always knew it would someday. It's the ultimate FUCK YOU to my past life, the one I've been running from since birth. 

Don't judge. You know you're not that shocked. And if you were me, you'd be doing the same things.

staplegunned

I went down the shore yesterday with mi madre. Girl time, much needed. An escape from living with a boy who's recently contracted a bad case of the teenager (I hear it's going around nowdays). It was lovely. I could very easily be a beach bum. 

Except **somehow** my tanning oil got swapped with baby oil. If this has ever happened to you, you know how much it sucks. Because instead of laying out for four hours and ending up a plesant shade of bronze, I look like a lobster. 

So not sexy.

still so glad

I'm back in the realm of completeness, while not quite sure what my next move is. But that's ok. It will all be ok, I'm sure. It always is. It has to be. How horrible would life be if we, as humanity, didn't at least have that little glimmer of hope of a better tomorrow to hold on to... regardless of how fleeting it may seem? There would be no reason not to stick a gun in your mouth and end it right now.

And, truth be told, suicide is not as sexy as it seems... regardless of how psuedo-Plath we all seem.

Speaking of the Goddess, Ana and Mia have made a triumphant return into my life. I love that I finally have that normalcy, the control I've been yearning for of seeing them every second of every hour of every day. 

I shan't fail them. I can't do that again. 

dashed to bits on the reef

I feel lost. I used to be addicted to the spiraling out of control that had become my life. I was 18 and invincible. Punch drunk on nothing more than teenage beauty and an unhealthy obsession with The Virgin Suicides. But now. Now, I feel as if the spiraling is no longer intoxicating. Or... maybe it still is. But it's a different intoxicating. If we're still working with the alcohol metaphor, I've moved beyond a few Long Islands to throwing back 40oz beers with no abandon and drinking cheap vodka from the bottle, only to have to ungracefully empty my stomach contents into the nearest bin. 

Or, if that doesn't work for you.. try this: I'm perpetually trapped in a game of Chutes and Ladders, except I'm just going down the chutes. Sliding down and down and down and when I feel like I can't get any lower, I roll the dice and hit another chute. No rewards this time, Hasbro, just consequences. 

I'm completely vacant. This isn't the first time I've been this way, though. Around the spring of my freshman year, I woke up one day and just wasn't. I was a shell, merely going through the motions and doing the mere minimum to get by. Now, that's basically where I am, except that the motions are much more violent. It's live hard, play harder to the ninth degree. I don't want to make it seem like I'm unhappy, because I'm tragically content with causing my eventual demise. But, I'm recognizing now that what I'm doing is not even close to what can be seen as acceptable behavior for an adult.

Maybe I just don't care. Or maybe I do, but I'm in too deep and can't even begin to climb out. But, I think the real question is... 

even if I could get out of this, would I?

Methinks not.

I enjoy being reckless. I relish in being able to make some not-so-wise decisions. Do I know what I'm doing is not exactly legit? Of course. Do I care, kind of. Am I going to change? No. I'm a complete creature of habit. I'm no longer 18 and invincible. I'm twenty-something and pretty damn shattered. 

Maybe it's time to sweep up the wreckage and begin fresh.

Or not.

I don't know.

Whatever. 

Fuck it all.

recapture

I can't sleep. I feel like I'm dying. I know I say this at an alarmingly frequent rate, but I'm unaware of an alternative way to verbalize how I feel. But, for the sake of clarity, I shall try. 

Head- hurts. Aches. I've taken enough Advil and Codine over the past 24 hours that I shouldn't be feeling anything, but I still do. 

And I'm stressed. Work is a bitch and I've decided the commute sucks so I have to find a place in the city. Preferably Manhattan but if I can't find anything reasonably nice, I'm going to look in Brooklyn. Truth be told, commuting from Brooklyn will be the same time-wise but so much less stressful. I just need to get the Hell out of my house. It's just really weird living at home. I'm not around enough to appreciate my family so it's creating a lot of unnessasary tension that I just don't feel like having to put up with. I mean, it's not like I'm avoiding them. I leave the house by 630am and I don't get home till usually around 9 or 10pm and by that point, all I want to do is have a shower and collapse into bed. 

Work isn't a big as a bitch as I make it seem though.  The people, for the most part are pretty rediculous. Just this one girl, A, I don't know about yet. I can't decide if she's just a snob to everyone or what. But it's ok, only disliking one person out of 60 or 70 isn't too bad, I don't think. As the cliche goes, we're one big happy family. One of the directors, L, is having a party at her apartment on Saturday night. I'm excited to hang out with everyone somewhere other than Ginger House. I mean, it's fun that we all go out after work but we really haven't been anywhere other than the office, the roof and Ginger. And  even then, the director's usually don't come out because they're still finishing up things for the nightcrawlers. So I guess it'll be fun to hang with them, because no one really knows them that well, especially since we have a bunch of new directors. 

Payday tomorrow! Finally. I need to pay my credit card bill. They tend to appreciate that being paid off, no?

a list (also known as i don't care enough to actually write)

Need to Buy-

Tequila

Lime

Diet Coke

Oranges

Hummus (preferably red pepper or 40 spice)

Paper Towels

Laundry Soap

Cigarettes

Conditioner

Irritants-

Father (obsessing, refuses to accept my autonomy)

Grandmother (dying...again)

Contacts keep falling out

Brother being suspiciously nice

Hair not working (maybe haircut time?)

Losing power for six hours today 

Michael (not being here)

and then the collapse...

Today wasn't nearly as painful as I thought it would be. The actual job today was not so hot, but I saw my virtual twin again and we went out after work (as per what is slowly becoming the norm...). 

As for my youthful indescresions of evening's past, that's all they were. No need to dwell on what I did. And to be honest, I don't even care. I did what I wanted and I'm damn pleased with myself. So put that by your dick and suck it. As for two members of the scrappy group known as GCI NYC '08, one aparently quit midday today and the other is up to his usual antics. So I guess all is good.

I feel so creatively vapid right now. Seriously, I'm listening to Miley Cyrus right now and it sucks. ((Is it bad that I  ADORE her song "7 things"?)) But I'm too blah to change it. And I can't write. Or read, for that matter. 

I did however, start a piece the other day. I'm not sure where I'm heading with it just yet, but I think it has the potential to evolve into something of substance. But I'm not sure.

All I want to do is sleep.

such a whore...

I started a new job with the DNC in the city. I like it, I guess. The work is a bitch, as is all campaign work, but the people are amazing. So amazing that I did the Lilith thing and made out with two of them at a bar we go to after work then went back to a different guy's place (met him at the bar, don't work with him). Yup. Whoops.

The thing is... I don't think it matters. I had fun. And I'm allowed to be young and dumb and reckless and all of those things EVERYONE says I'm too mature to be at the fine old age of 20.

And it kind of sucks because Florida Michael and I are sort of back together. But I also like both of the coworkers I made out with. One of them, I think, was a drunk make out on his part because I saw him the next day and he didnt even awknoledge me. But I haven't seen the other yet. And I think both are working tomorrow. So I guess we'll see.

I'm not going back to Hood, I decided. I'm taking the semester off to apply to other schools. I'm probably going to end up at NYU or the New School or worst comes to worst Montclair State or Slutgers. I'm kind of over the Western Maryland thing...

i suck

I'm not doing ROTC. I haven't signed anything yet, so it's technically still legit if I back out now. 

Now for my rationale:
-I really enjoy exercising my right to free speech, in all forms. It wouldn't be right for me to wear a uniform and then go about bad-mouthing the President.
-I also really enjoy being girly, partying, smoking and pink glitter nailpolish. All of which, I believe the Army frowns upon. 
-I don't like to commit to things... I change my plans constantly. Always have. Right now, I want to do military intel... but who's to say six weeks from now (when it would be too late) that I'd still want to do intel. I can't commit to something so profound without being certain. And I'm not.

I think it really comes down to the fact that I don't feel right about doing ROTC when I'm ambilivent about it. I'd be taking the spot of someone who has wanted this their entire life, and right now.. that's not me.

So... yeah.

I also got a new tattoo... it looks gross now because it's peeling but when it stops, I'll put up pics. 

if i somehow get prevented from joining rotc...

my other options right now are:

-moving in with michael in daytona beach and eventually marrying him,

-move to be'er sheba in israel with omri and marry him,

-live in san francisco & paint/write/be high as a fucking kite,

-live in dc & paint/write/be high as a fucking kite,

none of which would be too horrible. i love michael. i love omri. i'd marry either in a heartbeat. i could very easily live in dc or sanfran and just do my thing. but i'm not really prepared to give up something i've wanted my entire life because two concieted fuckheads want me to subscribe to their plan instead of my own...

migranes suck

I'm pretty sure all the aggrivation my parents are giving me over doing ROTC is making me physically sick. I passed out running this morning and now I'm dizzy and migraney and cant keep anything down. It's just another way for them to try to sabotague me. Assholes. Whatever. They can't stop me from doing this. I've already told the cadre to disregard anything from either of them sent on my behalf. They have no legal power over me and I'm not going to let them fuck with my life anymore.

That being said, my dad is completly blowing this out of proportion. Father's Day is Sunday and he said straight up he doesn't want me there. I mean REALLY dude... that's just not cool. And I don't want to leave for LTC with him pissed at me, but if that's the case then so be it.

where i stand

One of my best friends, Christine, and I got an apartment off campus. Hood said I could still live on campus, but frankly, after all of this drama I'm kind of done with it. It'll be good for me to live off campus. And I'm still going to be around campus enough... I'm taking 18 credits, doing ROTC and working for Institutional Research, plus maybe getting a research position with a professor. So it's not like I won't be seeing my friends... because I clearly will. And the apartment is really cute, it has this amazing exposed brick in the master bedroom (my room!), all new stainless steel appliances and a gorgeous balcony where we can put flowers and such. Yay. 

I leave for Ft. Knox in 20 days. I'm nervous. I'm actually more nervous for my DoDMERB physical on Friday than LTC. I'm just really scared of doctors... I've never had good experiences with them and I work myself into a tiff before seeing them and it just makes the whole situation so much more stressful than it needs to be. I'm thinking of asking my Mom to come with me and hold my hand. I know... I'm freaking 20 and should be able to go to the doctor alone, but it's just one of those things I like to have someone there for. 

Speaking of doctors, that's where I was earlier. I woke up not being able to breathe. Major panic attack. The breathing thing is really good, you know? I think it was probably the change in weather (we've gone from 60 degrees to 94 degrees in two days...grr) that messed me up. So they drew some blood and determined that I'm just stressed. Which , truth in advertising, I am. But they also want me not to run or train or anything till Tuesday. Yeah, that's not going to happen. Running is the only thing that really de-stresses me. There's nothing like waking up before the sun and being the only one on the road. It's become so automatic for me, like brushing my teeth. I don't think about it in the morning, I just do it. There's no question about it in my mind.

Michael and I talked last night. I think he and I are gonna be ok. Right now, we're good as just friends. We're both ok with that, even though we're both still madly in love. He's not thrilled that I'm doing ROTC, only because he doesn't want me to see war. But I want to be there, and he respects that. I'm trying to go down to Florida when he's back on leave in August, I just need to find a job in Frederick first, off campus and reasonably close to the apartment. OMG YAY. I just realized that now I have the apartment, it's going to be so much easier to have him over when he's in DC. Yayyyy. I really care about him. Michael's my first real love and I don't think you ever get over that. I don't think you're supposed to, either. Nor do I want to. Last night, before we hung up, we were talking about the last time we spent the day together. It was so cliche, but it was amazing. We went to this little park about a mile from his house with a blanket and just lay out talking. It was so perfect. Anyway, last night Michael said that was the happiest he's ever been in his whole life. It's just those things that make me love him even more...

I still haven't gotten my tattoo. At this point, with only 20 days, I don't think it's smart to get, unless I go tomorrow or Monday after work because of the healing time. But I have the perfect dragonfly I want so we're all set. 

never give up EVER

Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.

-- Lance Armstrong 

it's starting to rain a little bit outside...

So I might be getting kicked out of Hood housing. I just got a letter in the mail saying basically how when they went in to clear out the room after I left, they found a lot of empty liquor bottles and some pot with papers. FUCK. Because of this, they have no choice but to report me to Campus Security and the Dean of Students and they're gonna decide if I can remain on campus. 

I'm really nervous. I know I messed up big. Last semester, or basically all of last year, I was in a really bad mental place. I was sleeping around, drinking every night and smoking pot every chance I could get. I was dating people I shouldn't have been and doing a lot of other really bad things. I think it says a lot that I am trying to change, and have made huge changes in the right direction by joining ROTC. While I'm in the program, I'm not going to be able to drink or use drugs for fear of expulsion. I've also made the decision to live, not on my own where I know I'd be tempted to keep doing exactly what I was doing, but with a girl who is very straight edge and doesn't allow me to do any sort of drug. I've also finally realized that I don't need to sleep around... I'm pretty enough to make people have to work for it. I'm worth so much more than what I'd been doing to myself...

I think... what I might just do... is call the Dean first thing Tuesday and explain myself. I will offer to be drug tested randomly for the entire year, at cost to myself, as well as speak with the counseler in the Wellness Center about my drug use and other issues and attend NA, AA meetings. I'll seriously do anything for them to allow me to live on campus next year. 

Not to imagine how freaked out my parents would be if they kicked me off campus. I'm pretty sure they'd kill me. They don't need me aggrivating them any further. They're already freaking out epicly over ROTC. Oh.. here's a fun fact: the night before my Bat Mitzvah in seventh grade, my father beat the shit out of my mom. Aparently, while I was at my final dress rehersal of my service, she didn't fall down the stairs, she fell into my father's fists. Twelve times. This lovely fact was just shared with me earlier... I really needed to know that. Thanks guys. So now not only do I have the guilt and embarasment of being physically and mentally abused by both parents for 18 years, I know that I share those feelings with my mother. 

35 days till I leave for Ft. Knox... that's the only thought keeping me going right now. Otherwise, I think I'd be in a much worse place. And that's pretty hard to imagine.

what needs to happen in the next 40 days...

I leave for LTC at Ft.Knox exactly 40 days from now... I'm scared shitless. Not of the whole joining the army thing, but of the being ready thing. I'm scared I can't cut it. I'm in the best shape of my life, but I know it's not enough to set myself apart from the crowd. And that sucks. I just am going to have to kick my ass till I leave.

I also need to get my other tattoo before I leave. Preferably over the next few days... I want it to be at least on the way to being healed when I get down there. And I'm not sure how long I'm going to need to sit for it so the sooner I get it done, the better. I'm getting the dragonfly with QMNMD as the body and the recovery symbol in the wings with greyscale flames around the symbol. I'm stoked. I'm thinking its going to go between my sholderblades so it will only be visable when I want it to be. But it means a lot to me so I'm ok with it showing.

My grades from this semester weren't too hot. Actually, they sucked. I pulled a C in American Novel. I mean, that's to be expected. I didn't put in any work in the course, except for what I absolutely had to and I hardly went. Bio was a D+ which is the highest I think I've ever gotten in a lab science. Pathetic, no? I guess it just reaffirms that science isn't my thing. I managed to pull As in Polisci Methods and 9/11 Politics. That's to be expected though, methodology makes sense to me and so does terrorism/militaristic studies. Foreign Policy ended up to be a B-, which isn't horrible but still is nowhere near where I should be in a class like that. Oh well. Everyone messes up once and a while. I just have to make sure to keep academics as my first priority next semester. 

The parents are still not on board with ROTC. Mom is less opposed, I think. I told her I'm not making my decision with the contract till a few weeks after LTC. I know she's scared but still. My dad is absolutely freaked out. Oh well. I never asked for their support... 

non- photo blue

Here's the deal-

*I joined Army ROTC. Yup, chica's gone hooah. I'm not doing it to spite anyone and I realize the commitment. I realize that I could be sent to fight in Iraq (a conflict I don't really agree with at all) and that not going, if ordered, is NOT on option. I realize it's going to be the hardest thing I have yet to go through. But, despite all of that, I still am doing it. It's a great opportunity for me, not only to have to rest of college paid for, but to learn leadership skills that will carry me through life. But more importantly, it's a chance for me to be part of something so much bigger than myself. It's cool if you don't agree with me doing this, I never asked you to support me. Just realize, this is the first decision in a really long time that I'm really proud of.

*I learned a lot about myself this semester. I'm not perfect. I'm not as tough as I'd like to be... but I'm also not as broken as everyone thinks I am. And I'm going to be ok, I swear.

*You asked me a while back if I believed in happiness and I told you no. I lied. I really do believe in happiness, just not one found through external means. I'm gonna be happy one day, but I'm going to be happy on my own terms. You're welcome to join me... but it's ok if you don't. I'm still never going to forget you.

Sooo... that's the deal. I leave for Leader's Training Camp (basically ROTC basic training) on 30 June and I'm there till 27 July. Find me before or after... or I'll just see you kiddies in August

fucking finals week

i haven't slept more than 20 minutes total since monday afternoon. it is now friday morning and i am finishing my last paper of the semester. hopefully it will be done by 4am so i can go to my room and pack because i'm leaving here at 830am for nj. thank god my friend is driving so i can pass out the whole fucking way back.

i'm so fucking exhausted, it actually hurts.

freefallin'

Je ne peux pas respirer. Je pense que je peut mourir en fait ce soir. Vous m'avez fait cette façon et pourtant vous refusez même de reconnaître que vous avez fait. Vous baiser. Je ne vous veux pas ici.

Et quand je meurs, vous ce sera avec le sang sur vos mains cette fois environ.

catastrophe waitress

My friend thought this might be a good exercise... since I'm working on the whole figuring myself out thing. Anyway, allez.

((what I can say with some confidence I am))
female
20
a perpetual student
somewhat literate
liberal
searching
intense
fairly extroverted
viciously jealous
cynical as all bloody hell
hopelessly romantic
vain
a holder of grudges
loud
bad at all things relating to science and math
fluent in French, Hebrew and Russian
a decent writer
extremely afraid of being alone
petty
questioning everything that I once saw as the absolute truth
not in control but not out of control
tragically commonplace

((what I can say with some confidence that I am not))
in love with you
in love at all
forgetful
late
pregnant
selfless
immature
complacent with things as they are
a victim
going to back down
closed-minded
dwelling on your mistake
confident about anything, academia-related or otherwise
as messed up as I'd like to think I am
wasting time worrying about you

Yup. I think that's it.

and sophie's trying

but the thing is.... she just cant keep trying. she's done.
FUCKING DONE.

OREO

Oreos are delicious. I just had one for the first time in a really long time. And it made me pretty damn happy.

I've been having a weird day today. Michael redeployed earlier and I wasn't there. That really bums me out. Even though he puts me so much unnecessary bullshit, I'm always going to love him. It also really sucks because this is his third tour... they say you don't come back from the third one. All I'm saying, is that he better come back. I can't do this without him. Or... I mean I could, in theory do it. But I don't want to.

Lit class today just didn't happen. I wasn't feeling it. I needed to sleep, but of course, didn't. I ended up staying in campus commons working on a paper. If I was there, I would have been so unproductive and blah... it was probably better that I skipped. It was the first one I'd skipped in a while too.

Jersey this weekend is gonna suck. I have so much to do... I'm hoping that I can get it all taken care of Saturday morning then chill with friends Saturday night. Maybe. Hopefully.

I really want a cigarette...

a plane scraped it's belly on a sooted yellow moon

I don't even care anymore.

This time in the semester sucks. I'm just so done with it. I know I'm not appreciating my time here but whatever. I'm just over it. I want to be able to just wake up and run all day and not have to think about anything. Ever.

It was really nice out for a few days. And now it's not. This really bums me out cuz I was just starting to get tan (without laying in a tanning bed every freaking day) and I want to be dark before I go home Friday... Vain, I know.

I'm really frustrated with myself right now. My knee is fine. I mean, it's not fine but it's ok to run on. I'm not going to let the pain stop me. Except for freaking today. I don't know what's up because I ran only 5k this morning then this afternoon I went to the gym. I was only on the elliptical for an hour but I feel like I cant move my legs now. That's complete bullcrap. I should be able to run a lot more than what I did today, no problem. I'm basically crawling out of my skin, not having done the norm.

Actually, thats a lie. I've been extremely manic all day. After my run, I spend like an hour just organizing and reorganizing everything because it just didn't look right. And then I went to my friend's softball game and the second I got there, I felt so ick. I just feel like a bloody heifer everywhere I go. I know I'm not as gross as I see myself but I'm still not good enough. And that scares the crap out of me. I'm doing everything right. Freaking Ana and Mia have completely left me since TS got sent to in-patient. I think, because it was a competition of sorts between us... who could be the least crazy but still insane... I have no reason not to be completely reckless. I just want this so bad. I cringe every time I walk by and see the imperfection I've become. Maybe I'm not even a child of the goddesses anymore. I mean, I feel like that have abandoned me because I wasn't following them for the longest time. And now, I'd do anything to have them will me.

I need to get out of here...

here we go again...

My brother is going to jail. I don't care. He put himself there. Moron. Seriously... I have no sympathy for people like him.

It's almost the end of the semester. I'm basically over it. I don't want to leave Hood. A lot of my friends are graduating and I just realized how weird it's going to be without them here next year. And I'm not even going to be around campus much next semester because I got my apartment on Market St. So when I'm not in class, I'm going to be working or at home or not at Hood. Honestly, I'm kind of scared. This is going to be the first time I'll be living all on my own, no roommates or anything. It should be a good learning experience, if anything.

I'm going back to NJ in a couple of weeks to see everyone. I don't even know why I bother. I never actually WANT to go, but do so out of sheer guilt. And maybe to show off a little. I mean, I'm the one who's doing it all on their own: college, jobs, bills, life. And I'm not doing too bad. Sure, I slip up and party once and a while, but find me a 20 year old who DOESNT party and I'll be impressed. I'm not perfect, but I sort of maybe kind of have things under control. I'm working, everything is paid for (tuition, car, rent for the summer and next year, random assortment of bills), I'm not doing too badly in any of my classes (except for a C in biology...) and I'm not preggers. That's more than I can say for a lot of people my age.

I really really want it to be warm already. It's mid-April and I'm still leaving my room with a jacket or hoodie most days. No bueno!!! I want to be able to break out my warm-weather clothes. Hopefully it'll be warm this weekend though... I really just want to run all day Saturday. Maybe go up to the woods and hike/run.

I don't know what's going on with my knee. It's fine to run on, but my doctors keep telling me not to. But it doesn't hurt. I don't know. It'll probably start bothering me once I slow down and let it.

But like that's ever going to happen.

same blood

And I'm done with them. I'm tired of chasing. If they want to make a move, then let them. I will be right here. I can't promise that I'll still be interested or willing or even in the market. But, I will be here. The ball is in their court now because I'm just too tired to keep trying to make something out of what quite possibly was nothing.

The situation sucks, yes. I still like them. If they were to act on their previous feelings (I'm only saying previous because as of late, I have no indication if they are interested anymore), I'd probably go for it.

But if they didn't... it's ok. It's whatever. I just want to know.

on your way

I have had the weirdest 24 hours.
Last night, J and I were just going to talk.
Talking turned into Starbucks for an hour.
Starbucks turned into me going back to the apartment with her.
Me chilling and doing homework at the apartment turned into us getting 40s and drinking.
Us drinking turned into us deciding to wreck havoc on campus at 230am.
Wrecking havoc turned into us driving down to DC to see the monuments in the middle of the night/sunrise.

So yeah. That was my night. And then J and I realized this was the first time she and I actually chilled. Ever. Which is really weird considering we'd been friends for almost two years. Anyway... I still can't believe we did that.

For the record... I was not that drunk and neither was she (when she was driving). Ans it was the most fun I've had in a really long time.

I can't believe the semester is almost over. Seriously. I'm not ready to be a junior in college. I'm not ready for my friends to graduate. I'm not ready to be the one freshies look up to. I should not be the example of what you want to be in college.

I don't sleep.
I rarely eat.
I drink way too much caffeine.
I don't go out of my way to have people like me.
I bullshit work that's not for my majors.
I hang with sketchy people.

Yeah... I'm sorry I'm not little Miss Suzy Involved in Student Government. That's just not my thing. At all.

But overall... actually... I don't think I am unhappy with where I am in life. I think it's just hard trying to break through and figure out what I want to do with my time here as opposed to doing what I've been told I should do since day one.

But that's just part of growing up now...
AND THERE'S NOT MUCH WE CAN DO ABOUT IT!!!!!!

leave

me here and let me go.

it would hurt a lot less than having to see me everyday still pining after what i obviously cannot have.

ecstacy and jelly beans

I want this day to be over.
I say "I" a lot.
Very narcissistic of me now, no?
But I don't really care.
That much.
I'm really not as messed up as everyone thinks I am.
I am capable of taking care of other living things.
Like kitties.
My name does not mean "The Devil" in Hebrew, Jakob.
Asshat.
I don't believe in the conventional labels that society uses to define sexual orientation.
Maybe I should have gone to work today.
Oh well.
Singular causes suicidal thoughts.
I think that's hilarious.
Bean knows.
She does not approve.
I do not care.
I might as well just go for it.
Or whatever.
If it's gonna happen, it will.
If not, bummer.
But I really want it to happen.
They rock.
Screw it.
I'm gonna stop playing the pronoun game.
She rocks.
She makes me happy.
I've got it bad for a girl.
Is that better?
I don't care if you have a problem with it.
I am who I am.
Deal.
I don't deserve you making me want to die on a nightly basis.
And you're not gonna fix me.
Because I am not broken.
Or maybe I am.
But I'm ok with who I am, thanks.
Perfection is still alluring though.
QMNMD anyone?
Starbucks today was awesome though.
I needed that.
The hangover this morning wasn't that bad.
99 Blackberries makes me pretty happy.
And that is not healthy.
Oh well.
I'm really vain.
Not even.
I'm BEYOND vain.
And really want to light my new beeswax candles.
But then the dorm would burn down.
Which would be sucky.
M has my Sylvia Plath dress still.
I really should get that back before it gets really warm.
I look kinda really awesome in it.
Very romantic.
They really should stop doing landscaping work at 7am.
It doesn't bother me.
But I know most people aren't up then.
And that has to suck waking up to a lawnmower.
My eyeballs hurt.
It's not my contacts.
But just my eyes.
Maybe I'm tired?
That is always an option.
This time next year I'll be in South Africa.
I'm excited.
Hardcore.
My brother makes me angry.
I am amazed by his stupidity.
There really is no other word for it.
Ugg.
I can't stand how every three seconds.
She's on my mind.
It's freaking me out.
I'm not good with this liking someone thing.
Note to self: stop being shy.

concerete angel

I feel pretty defeated right now. I just insinuated via text message for the first time that I may actually have feelings for the person I'm interested in and how frustrated that I don't know what we're doing (if we're just two friends who are hanging out or if there may be something more there) and said person didn't quite get it, I don't think. ARUGH. All of their close friends know that we've been hanging out and it's just so frustrating that I don't know where we stand. I have a big problem with not knowing. And it honestly took a lot for me to actually come out and say that I'm into them and to feel this shot down is really kinda messing with my head. This whole liking someone dance we all do is just sucky. I think it creates so much unnecessary tension it alone has the potential to seriously mess things up. Sometimes I honestly wish I wasn't interested in anyone at all ever. Yeah, it would be horrible being alone forever but at least it would be easier than having to worry about saying and doing the right things, not looking like a wreck and all that stuff with comes with liking someone.

In other news, I'm pretty sure I'm failing out of school. Go me. I completely failed my American Novel midterm. 55%. Go me. I'm just a big ball of talent this semester. At least, if anything, I'm moving off campus next semester into a really sweet apartment downtown and one of my good friends is going to rent in the same building. So maybe I'll be able to focus better on classes before South Africa in the Spring.

Spring is on its way and my allergies are not excited. Even sitting through class this evening, I was sniffily. And when I run in the morning, I've been getting short of breath from the pollen and whatnot. NO BUENO. Especially when the medicine I take for it, Singular, is now being investigated by the FDA for causing people to commit suicide. Death by medicine. Sweet. If you're gonna go out, that doesn't seem like that bad of a way to go. I'm guessing that your family would make bank from a lawsuit after the fact.

Oh drug companies.... how I HATE you. A lot.

promise what you will

I basically don't even care anymore. I hate drama. I hate not being able to do what I want because I'm so scared of causing even more drama. I'm scared of rejection. I'm scared that we only have six weeks left in the semester and then ....

I guess the main reason I'm not acting on things is that, well, I'm scared. I know that they and I would get attached and it would suck hardcore when I went home for the summer and they went to adultland. I just don't want to hurt them if it doesn't work out.

They make me so happy though...


(ijusdontknowanymore)

ick

I haven't been able to write for a while now and it's making me want to die. Seriously. I'm a writer with a hideous case of writer's block. I can't bring myself to create ANYTHING, of substance or not. And it's really starting to mess with my conscience.

Tomorrow I'm baking with Devin. I'm stoked. She's pretty awesome and I feel like I haven't had an opportunity to really chill with her in a while. And apparently she's Betty Homemaker so this should be pretty wicked awesome.

I feel like I don't know how to de-stress, I've been so high strung for the longest time. That can't be healthy, no?

Platypuses (platapui?) are pretty freaking sweet, I decided.

(((words that don't blow))
dragon
Aquarius
cashmere
extrapolate
mango
fairground
vanity
Gucci
salute
fire
braid
seafoam
rough
hardcore
silhouette
float
scarecrow
sonata
reaction
Cinderella
hostess
countdown
precious
clouds
engrave
frog



-thatisall-

immobilarity

I realized last night that I'm really scared. I have no idea about my future and that's really disconcerting. I have no idea about grad school or even if any program will take me. I'm scared that I won't come back from South Africa and I'll end up working for a NGO over there and loving it. I'm scared that I'm running away from what could potentially be a good thing with Michael down in Florida. I'm scared that I'll never be able to get over and move beyond my past. I'm scared of leaving my past. Really fucking scared.

And it sucks.

I ran into my old boss from the 2006 race Tuesday night at Whole Foods. Can you say AWKWARD?????????? Seriously, I have no hard feelings over not being swooped up by Stender '08 but I would love a little recognition. For once. I mean, I worked my ass off for eleven months for her and then had the audacity to think that I may get a nod for the rematch. It's whatever though.

My midterm essays are not working out for me... maybe I should roll with the whole plot to drop out, move out to SanFran, paint, write and tan.

so misleading and so contageous now...

This weekend was kind of ridiculous. I did absolutely no work whatsoever. I don't know how I'm going to make it through the next few days leading up to break though. I have a lit review for my methods thesis, a methods exam, a bio lab, an English paper all to finish. Not to mention packing... which always takes me an obscene amount of time. And.. I mean... I feel bad. But I haven't had as much time to see my friends over the past week or so because I've just been so busy.

And... I know I'm going to be basically a wreck Tuesday night and for most of the day Wednesday if the inevitable happens. Which is going to SUCK. Seriously. I don't like being a big ball of inconsolable tears... but that's what's gonna go down. Consider yourself warned.

Florida Michael is driving down for sure. I'm so excited. He's just such a fun person to be around. And it's gonna suck seeing my grandmother like that... again... and he can make it better. So yay.
Mi madre still is clueless about the new scars. Hopefully there will be no awkward questions asked.

At least the grocery stores down there sell enough liquor to make it all go away.......

the sun will always rise...

I think today is the start of a new era. I finally had the talk with school Mike. Or rather, I was slightly tipsy and went over to his place. We chill and then we talked. About everything. And... I think it's going to be ok. As much as I don't want to believe it right now, Mike and I can never be together. He's looking for love, not lust.. as he put it. And I'm too insane. And too... I think we honestly deserve being more than each other's last option. It's not healthy for me, or fair to him, to keep looking back on whatever he and I were doing for a while. Even though it's going to suck pretty bad for a while... it's just one of those things I'm going to have to deal with. And... maybe I need to just take some time off boys for a while. I need to start focusing on myself and fixing myself before I can even begin even postulating being in a healthy relationship with someone. I need to commit to making serious changes. Not just so I can maybe someday be with someone and not completely self-destruct but also... I need to stop being complacent with the situation I've created for myself. There has to be more than this...

slave to the groove

The only thing keeping me going right now is the fact that two weeks from today, right now, I am going to be laying on my boat somewhere on the Intercoastal, sipping champagne and getting perfectly tan.

I know it's so petty and probably really unhealthy but I hate being as pale as I am right now. It just makes me feel like I'm fading, even moreso than everything else. Hopefully this upcoming Floridian-stint will be able to amend this. Or, if not, give me enough color to hold me over till it gets warm in Maryland.

Aside from having to deal with familial bullshit when I'm down there, I'm hoping it will be a fun trip. Army Michael (not school Mike... I know there's too many Mikes in my life...deal with it) is trying to drive down from Daytona for the weekend. That would just be perfect. I haven't seen Michael in almost six months now and he's my person. He basically got me through the last half of high school, even when he had much more important things to deal with. Like killing terrorists and such.
He's such a badass! Fuck... I remember Mid-March of my senior year, right smack in the middle of his second tour, my rugby team made it to the finals. I emailed Michael to give him the news and he CALLS ME from the sandbox after the last game, just to make sure we rocked it. Or when he had flowers sent to me for graduation cuz he couldn't be there to give them to me myself. Michael is just that amazing. He gives you what you want... but also he knows what you need. And I think that's almost impossible to find in another human being, you know?

And now I just realized that Mid-March of my senior year was nearly two years ago. And now I feel old.

beyond the sun

I basically failed the bio exam I had today. I just don't get it. As much as I study for that class, I can't get into it. And whatever info I do retain, I can only regurgitate. Barely. Seriously, I could not even tell you how a cell works or whatever I was supposed to "learn" in the first four chapters.

I'm really furious with Mike. I think I'm once again realizing that I'm not even a friend to him. I'm just something for him to stick his dick in. Which isn't the best situation for me. I'm worth so much more than that. I think it's just the idea of him that still gets to me. The hope that one day (or night or whenever) he sees me, he'll realize that I'm the only one who actually cares about him and will always be there for him. The whole bloody thing pisses me off though.

Let's just take a moment and revel in the ultimate amazingness of PB&J on whole wheat. I just had one. And it makes me happy. Probably happier than it should. But... I guess that's ok.

My foreign policy class... we have an exam on Thursday. I'm not worried. It's foreign policy. I actually know this crap. And we're studying tomorrow night. By we, I mean CC, Dave, Hardman & I are gonna sit around and drill for an hour and joke off for three. Which is awesome. I really do love my boys. Dave needs to get over this cold though. Seriously, he's been sick for two weeks and seems so miserable. But... being sick is never fun so whatever.

ugh

After a long hiatus, Mike is back in my life. Just friends. Which sucks. It really hurts seeing him every day and knowing that he's not mine. We'd be so perfect together...

seek up

Today's the Wisconsin & Hawaii primaries... and I couldn't care less. Really. I think I'm just burnt out. When all you (for lack of better word) do for seven years is the political thing, it gets tiring. And I'm kind of at that point. I'm not over OVER it. But I want to do more.

I met with my adviser yesterday to talk grad school. I know I want to do something with international relations, with a focus on Africa. But my GPA is really really hideous and I'm left with a 3.73 after last semester. Meaning the grad programs with an Africanist in the department aren't even going to look at me unless I bring it up to a 3.95 or higher. Which sucks. I know I really don't have anyone to blame but myself if I don't get into a worthwhile grad program. I guess... maybe though... going to South Africa next Spring may help boost my resume. Especially if I can get some research done when I'm there.

The only thing I KNOW that is going to kick my butt if I don't start immediately is learning Afrikaans. The Dutch is going to mess me up but I'm thinking, because I have a background in German and some Latin that it shouldn't be too bad. I just want to be able to communicate when I'm there and not look like a stupid foreigner. And, although all of the classes I'm taking are being taught in English, I want to be able to communicate with the people I'm living with and such.

Wow... I can't believe I'm actually doing this!!! Finally something to look forward to that I've decided to do on my own terms.

be more perfect

I don't even know anymore. Every time I feel like something is finally going right and I gain the balls to submit a piece, I get rejected. I mean, it's whatever. I just would kill for one goddamned publisher to make me feel like the one thing I know I actually enjoy in my life isn't bloody garbage. I am just so frustrated right now. I know I'm not a bad writer. I just would love some freaking validation.

In other news, I scratched the heck out of my throat on Friday afternoon and was coughing blood for a good hour and a half after. Go Lilith. I swear. I probably am the only one stupid enough to purge in a dorm restroom and am exactly incompetent enough to scratch my throat in the process. I really am a freaking genius.

ANWAG is kicking my ass. I think I've realized how little I care about nuclear energy policy. Which kinda sucks cuz I'm contracted till the end of March and, by transit, have to fake caring till then.

South Africa is going to be amazing. I can't get over the fact that a year from now, I'll be on another continent, far far far away from everything here FINALLY studying what I want. I'm actually thinking of hopping on a research trip my family friend is doing to Sierra Leone in December and just going straight from there to Stellenbosch, just to get away sooner.