Hmm.

As I sit here, waiting for another student to come here their critique, I question why I'm here. How did I end up here? I feel like a completely different person from the little girl that considered ending it 4 years ago. Can someone change so much? Reading a friend's blog, he mentioned the idea that our "self" is merely a story. I wonder how my story reads? Why do we blog, anyway? We are simply telling our story. Is my "self" just a computer screen? Or is it my day to day activities? Is it how I react to things or how I get to the situations that cause my reaction. I wish I was more philosophical, more controlled, more self-motivated, more.. not my "self" but something much greater. Is it that aspiring for more what makes me who I am? Eventually the story must end and many times I wish I could skip to that part.

K, Really?

I am having a terrible night. I won't say it's the worst night because, believe me, I've had SO much worse. BUT this night is very frustrating. First, there's a guy I think I'm interested in. Problem: he is meant for my roommate. They were supposed to go on a date and fall madly in love. That's what was supposed to happen. That date hasn't happened yet, they've only talked a little, but I think she likes him so I can't break the rules and actively chase after him so I just have to wait and see if he decides he likes me. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure I may start liking him. Second, the guy my friend is trying to set me up with and I still haven't had an actual conversation because there always seems to be some conflict, such as tonight, when they were all watching The Office so of course the two of us couldn't have deep conversations. In fact, I'm not sure he even looked at me. Again, I could easily see myself liking him IF we ever get around to talking. Third, the really cute guy I met and chatted with in my biology class, whom I later added on facebook, received an accidental message from me while I was playing around with my roommates. Yeah, that's right. I was playing around, saying "this is what I should say" and laughing... then oops... I hit send. It wasn't even a whole message! It was half a message! So, of course I had to finish it, or else he might think I'm sincerely mentally handicapped. Yeah, my togetherness and maturity astound even me. Fourth, I drove my roommates, the one that HAD swine flu and the one that HAS swine flu to Wendy's, which was closed, then to another Wendy's, which was also closed, and finally to Burger King, where my debit card was, for some reason, declined... lucky for us, the nice boy running the register gave us half our food for free. He's an angel. Now that I am back in my apartment, realizing I am course, unrefined, immature, bad with money, forgetful and, in general, losing it, I finally remember that I have a test tomorrow, which I haven't REALLY studied for, a 7:30 class (sleep? I don't think so) and I get another lovely batch of papers to edit from a class of students who are also having terrible nights as they try to throw something together in time to hand in to some young girl they've only met once. Oh, and the icing on my cupcake of a night? I get to tell them why their papers are bad and how they can improve and listen to them justify why they only turned in one paragraph and why I should write their paper for them. I hope only 3 are late this time.

Although tonight is frustrating and, admittedly, not my finest, I have had worse. Calling Child Protective Services on my mom? Worse. Telling my parents I have HPV? Worse. Getting the cops called on me by my "best" friend? Worse. I could go on, but really the nostalgia is making me a little sick to my stomach. Or maybe that's the cold pizza that's keeping me up while I study for this test. At any rate, I hope tomorrow goes better.

Thanks for the Memories? Not so much

I never thought I'd be were I am today. It's been almost a year since I found out I have HPV. Hopefully not cancer yet but I won't know until December. I never thought I'd have the memories I have. I never wanted to do what I've done and I don't expect the scars to ever fade but they're becoming less prominent. I'm sick of the obsessions and the past. I'm sorry to my parents, mostly. I don't know how they still love me but for some reason they do. I couldn't ask for more than what they've given me. I don't know, maybe I'm just feeling introverted today or maybe it's more the fact that 3 years ago at this time I was already sneaking around, already been on a couple drug deals, already been to parties, been around too many drugs, already a slut, already forgetting everything. One year ago I was thinking about changing my life, but lacking the courage and this year I'm regretting the past and wishing I could fast forward to the future.

Oh, Windy Nights...

I'm a firm believer in Karma. I'm also a firm believer that mine is broken. I've put in the time dating guys that string me along, don't care about me and/or use me. I've grown as a person, raised my standards, gained so much self respect. I can say now that I am a valuable individual with so much to offer another person and any guy would be lucky to have me give them my heart.






That being said, I seem to only attract douche bags and their disguises just keep getting better. They can be nice for months at a time and then suddenly, I flip them. In the words of Cat Power: "Where is my love?" Don't I deserve the great relationships I see my girlfriends have? Haven't I earned a guy that actually really does like me? Haven't I paid my debt? Where is MY love?

I've come to the conclusion that...

...Attraction is purely related to what you are used to. For example, I am used to getting guys that are the popular, universally attractive douche bags that girls want. I have dated several guys that were very popular, at least in high school, and now I'm used to that level of physical beauty in a guy. I don't entertain the idea that I am any sort of special beauty, in fact I think I'm quite average. But being used to those guys makes me feel snobby and stuck-up. I promise I'm not.

...One of the most important things a person can do with their life is live it.

...I feel better focusing on the fact that he kissed me rather than the zillions of doubts I have in my head.

...No matter how much "stuff" you do or do not have, moving is HELL.

...There is never a good excuse for Wal*Mart.

...The most valuable thing someone can own is a true friend who loves you even though you walk around in your underwear and leave the room completely messy.

...I like him. No matter what he feels, I like him.

...I would definitely make out with C but would never ever date him.

...I could never date a pretty-boy

...I will live how she would have liked to see me live. I will remember everything she taught me. I will slow down and recognize the beauty she tried to show me.

Timeframe of Worry

She left almost 5 hours ago. We haven't known this guy for long. Should I worry at 2 am? 3? 4? What if something happens? Does that make me partially responsible? What if something really did happen? How could I live with that? She won't answer, won't respond.. What if she does something she regrets? Should I call again? Am I being paranoid? Would she do this for me? Yes. Would she be worried? Yes. What if it's as simple as she fell asleep on accident or purpose with him? Is she thinking with her head or with his? She should be back now. I can't sleep. I know where he lives.. it's almost 4. Should I go be the hero? No. But I worry. I think she should be back by now and she isn't and what happens if she doesn't come back? He seems like such a nice guy, I'm almost sure she's fine. Almost. What if she isn't? What happens then? I've watched the clock since 1. She was worried the night I didn't come home until 4. Why wouldn't she just simply say, "take me home now, please?" I wonder where she is... She needs sleep. She has work in the morning. I can sleep in but she has to be to work.. Why isn't she back yet? This is a wrinkle in our normal schedule. It's almost 4 am on a Wednesday morning and she's STILL not back.... the minutes seem to elongate, stretching out the possibilities. Where the hell is she? I'm scared to go to bed in case she never comes home but concerned about staying up for fear that I'll get bad news. Her parents would be very disappointed. Where the hell is she? 3:53 and still no sign. Where would they be now? Arizona? Mexico? Heaven? Hell? She said she likes him, but how much? Enough to throw away her life? Enough to fall asleep in his arms tonight? Enough to stay out until at least 4 in the damn morning? Pop a few more Tums. 3:54. Where the hell is she?

The Young and the Restless

New relationships are odd. There is so much tension, frustration, pheromones. You worry about what the other person thinks, feels, sees, smells, wants. You take your 14-piece Louis Vuitton set of emotional baggage into everything you and the other person do. It's terrifying but exhilarating all at the same time. You want so much for them to like you, do say that you are some how appealing. You want to shout out that you like them but there is an intense fear that the echo wont return. You want them to love you for your faults, even because of your faults. But it's a terrible flaw in our make-up because we expect them to love us regardless, yet we pick at them. We find their little imperfections and we pore salt and water in them to dissolve the edges until a small hole becomes a gigantic chasm that we fill with doubt and insecurity. I do this. I do this so much. In the words of the oh-so-famous Alice, "Curiouser and curiouser."

Once upon a time....

I miss who I used to be but the girl I used to be wished to be the girl I am now. This is me presently:

This is who I used to be:





I miss being like that. I'm not sure what it is that I miss but I know part of me wishes I hadn't grown out of that. I miss the boys. I miss my friends. I miss the crazy nights we'd spend raising hell and doing things we'd regret. I miss feeling so free and yet so trapped. I wanted so badly to be the girl I am today and now that I'm there, I feel this intense nostalgia for that stranger I used to be. Strange how we always want what we think we can't have.

Untitled

one plus one is three
and we cut down a tree
just for fun.
johnny and sally ran away
when johnny told sally
"i promise i'll stay."
now mexico has two more unhappy lovers,
as pretty as a bird losing his feathers
and spreading them on the kitchen table
until he's naked and drowns in his own skin.
"I love you, I love you, I'll love you for always--
At least for now."

Fleeting Moments

My head is full of random thoughts today:

Why is ebay so addicting? I've already spent way too much money.

Regret is pointless but also a drug. Why can't we let go? Why do we let it fester?

Why is doing the right thing so hard sometimes? If it's the right thing, isn't it supposed to be easy?

What is money? It controls us, yet it's merely paper and metal, and now it's just numbers on a computer screen. Does it hold the same value to me as my grandparents?

Why vintage? Why are we so concerned about living in the past, some reject today?

Why do we have to have the latest, most expensive, most advanced everything? Why can't we be happy with the simple things?

Are we all so dissatisfied that we can't embrace each new day as it comes? We always long for the future and wish for the past, but forget that we are in today and we are missing it.

Goodbye My Almost Lover

I drove by your house today. I couldn't cry but I broke inside. How is she? Is she great? Do you love her like you loved me? Do you tell her she's the only one you could ever love? Do you tell her that no matter what, she's your other half and you'll be together forever in your heart? Does she kiss you like I kissed you? Does she love you like I love you? I think about you every day. I think about how you held me, how you pulled me in, how you put your arm around my waist and we melted into each other. I remember how you smell. I remember how it felt when we'd watch a movie on your couch and I lay in between your legs, my head resting on your chest, your heart beating in my ear, you playing with my hair, me rubbing your leg and you promising to never leave. You said I was more important. You said I'd always come first. I didn't, did I? I can't make you feel like the drugs do. I thought I could. You said I could, but I guess you didn't mean it. I saw us in a dream once, old, sitting like we used to, watching the kids play, watching them grow up, move out, mess up, come back, leave us. I saw us old, you still grabbing my hand when we're around people and I get scared, letting me know you're still there. I'm crying now. Do you remember wiping my tears? Do you wipe her tears now? I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. I could never mean it. I'll regret it for the rest of my life. I love you. I've always loved you. Part of me will always love you. Remember the nights we'd lay in bed and talk about the future, the sky, the stars? Do you remember our first kiss? The rain pouring, both of us completely drenched. You looked at me like you'd known me forever, but just realized it. That was the first time you wrapped your arm around my waist and we melted away with the rain. Remember kissing in the snow? You said I looked like an angel. You said I was your angel. You said I was all you needed. I guess you were wrong. I couldn't take you away like the drugs could. I couldn't compete with your other love. I bet she doesn't care about you like I care about you. I bet she'll get high with you and die with you. Do you realize what will happen when you die? Or disappear? Or go back to prison? Part of me will go with you. That part is locked and sealed now. Others try and get in there but the key is gone, you have it. Remember the key you gave me? I look at it every day. You have my key. You'll always have that. I'll always have the memories.

I love you, Chris.

How to Comment in a Class Room Setting

Dear woman in my class that can't shut up,

1. Less is more: Keep your comments short and sweet. By talking in circles you sound more idiotic and arrogant, not intelligent. If your comment takes more than 1 minute, it's too long and I will tune out.

2. I payed to hear the teacher talk: You aren't the teacher. I don't care that you think you are the smartest person in the world. You aren't. You know almost nothing. The teacher knows much more than you.

3. I don't care: I don't care that you think you are a saint. I don't care that you love to scrap book. I don't care about your family trip or the time little Johnny threw up and it was so traumatic and it really brought you closer to God. I just don't care.


With all due respect,
KV

P.S.: SHUT UP

The World of Lost Things

I am a loser. I lose things. All the time. My current lost items include:

My eyeliner
My car keys
My house keys
My water bottle
My blue pen
My magazine
A button

This list fluctuates on a daily basis. I wonder where lost things go. How do they become lost? What constitutes being lost versus just misplaced? I wonder what one could do with all the lost things of the world. If I could collect everything I've lost and never found over the years, I wonder if I would be confused at the emotional reaction I've had to some of the items. I seem to attach myself to inanimate objects. I remember being young, maybe five or six, and my mother had bought me a balloon, a Minny Mouse balloon, I believe. My parents had gotten a divorce a year or so before and I could cling onto almost anything. I remember walking out of the store with my Minny Mouse balloon feeling content and full. Unfortunately, while my mom strapped me in, I let go of my balloon enough that it began it's ascent toward the Arizona sun. To say I cried would be an understatement. I wept. I lamented. I balled like the child I was. I was empty. I'm not sure why but I loved that balloon like a child. I wonder where that balloon went. Maybe to a world of lost things.

Curse of Curves

I hate to look in the mirror. I'm a girl with anorexia and I really hate to look in the mirror. I hate what I see, I hate that I can't become what I want to be and I hate that people hold me back from that. Isn't it strange how dissatisfied we become with ourselves? I just broke up with a boy and suddenly I feel like a bad person. I had every right to break up with him and I didn't owe him anything so why am I upset about this? Suddenly, I turn on myself. I think about the rolls of fat, the chubby face, the bulbous arms and thighs. I wonder if all the mirror's are broken. Or maybe I'm just broken. Can eye's be broken? I suppose it's just my head. My emotions. I wish I was thinner, I wish I was stronger, I wish I could be happy, I wish there were no mirrors. I've included the most recent picture of myself for documentation and hopefully I can learn to love that image one day.

How to Fight Loneliness

Here are a few ways I realize can keep you out of the pit of loneliness:

1. Girls, where your skirts just a little shorter: apparently guys like skin and if you want a complete dirtbag for a boyfriend, this is the best way to make that happen. If you don't want the dirtbag, it's fun to get the looks from guys anyway.

2. Guys, dress in all the latest fashions and get the nicest car: This is the quickest way for you to get one of those idiot girls that can't formulate a real sentence, which you all seem to just love. She'll be completely blinded by your apparent wealth that she won't care when she breaks your heart.

3. Everyone, put on a mask: If you mask who you really are and become something people believe to be better, you will definitely get an insecure, high maintenance partner who will love you for everything you aren't and leave you when they discover the sham.

4. Become obsessed with work: If you don't have time to breath, you don't have time to be lonely. If you become a workaholic, you will never have time to find the love of your life and never have the pain of hurt when she leaves you for someone else.

5. Girls, don't respect yourself: Most guys seem to hate it when a girl has any respect for herself at all. If you learn to not be able to be alone, if you learn that you always need a guy, if you aren't a real person if you aren't hanging on someone's arm, you won't be alone for long.

6. Guys, become a player: You'll never get a self-respecting girl with a brain if you're a player. But do you really want a girl who can think for herself? That just means long, intimate conversations late at night and a really substantial relationship. That's just a risk you don't want to take.


I'll add to this as I think of them. Feel free to make suggestions.

Lament of Hot Site 7B

Though the possibility of sounding like a whining nit, I'm going to complain about my internet. Having been used to the internet connection I had in my previous dorm, which was incredibly fast, it has been an experience getting used to Hot Site 7B, the internet connection I am forced to use at my apartment. I am no longer able to stream movies online. The days of downloading music free off of limewire are over. Have I really become this spoiled? One of the biggest complaints I have at this very minute is my internet. For heavens sake, I can communicate with people around the world because of the internet. I can work from home. I can learn, I can teach, I can explore. I suppose I'm just impatient.

Ah, the Beginning

My first blog. Nothing to say, really, but to show the inspiration for this blog:

Dirge for a Joker


Always in the middle of a kiss
Came the profane stimulus to cough;
Always from the pulpit during service
Leaned the devil prompting you to laugh.

Behind mock-ceremony of your grief
Lurked the burlesque instinct of the ham;
You never altered your amused belief
That life was a mere monumental sham.

From the comic accident of birth
To the final grotesque joke of death
Your malady of sacrilegious mirth
Spread gay contagion with each clever breath.

Now you must play the straight man for a term
And tolerate the humor of the worm.
--Sylvia Plath

We must find the contradictions in life and embrace them.

KV