I lay these eggshells to remember to be careful

I always think I've changed until I realize: No, I am the exact same person. I still let people push me around if they want to because I'm...well, not afraid, but I just fucking hate conflict with people I care about. And I still am a jealous person. I still get worried about things that shouldn't worry me. I still compulsively eat, sleep at the wrong times, etc. This isn't me whining (not that anyone's reading this nor, even if they are, do I care about people judging); meh, it's more a resolution to attempt to change...again. Hopefully.

Anyways, I bought these online (UO sale + coupon code = success):

Rainbow Strip Sunglasses $4.99 (was $18)


BDG Knit Maxi Skirt - $4.99 (was $42)



Shadow Readers - $4.99 (was $18)
These are to replace the ones I lost at Undie Run.


Microfloral Printed Patch Shams - $4.99 (was $30)

I was extremely sick today. I was super femininely ill, if you catch my drift, to the point where I had a fever and couldn't walk. And I was rather emotionally miserable, as well, but I watched movies and wrote and perhaps that helped. Who knows? I watched Willy Wonka (1971 one) and it made me feel tons better for a while.

This is how I felt today.

Citrus shoulder.

Fuck optimism. All it makes me do is knock on wood every few minutes (which is really just a clear sign of pessimism). This is unrelated to the little story I'll tell you next, which is something I didn't have much hope for.

Tonight, Ryan drove me to Westcott to get the money a certain ex-boyfriend owes me. Granted, he owes me far more than he gave me (I paid his rent one month and he think thinks that's all he owes me for - not, y'know, the Broken Social Scene concert ticket, any of the food or the massive amounts of coffee, etc...). I didn't even recognize him when I saw him. I don't think I've seen him in almost a year. He's still a 16-year-old boy in a 22-year-old boy's body. People say he'll grow up but...meh, I strongly doubt it. His family's really chill, very mature...he just got the genes that decided to remain a little too egocentric and youthful. I really didn't want to chat, but he asked me how California was and all I said was: "Warm." And I felt like I should say "How are you?" so I did, to which he began yadda-yaddaing about how he's playing some set (which nobody asked for, I'm sure; he just volunteered and then they reluctantly said "Okay..." as I've been told happens often) after the band that was playing. Read: I do not care about this person anymore. He is of no consequence to me. This was what I needed and I'd rather never talk to him again. I don't want to hurt him, I don't want to ruin his life, I don't want to cause him harm. I just want him out of my life. This is hopefully the last time I see the kid that I emotionally/financially cared for as he leeched off me for the small 5-month span of us seeing each other. I've never seen tantrums like the ones he threw when I broke up with him; screaming on his porch, grabbing my feet on the floor, crying hysterically, calling every minute, talking tons of shit to anyone and everyone, chasing me down the stairs, physically not letting me leave...I'm done. What's really funny is that neither of us really cared about one another (clearly); I was lonely and he desperately needed somebody to rely on.

This really isn't me trying to be mean. This is how I see it and, sure, other people may have different opinions. But other people didn't deal with somebody freaking out and crying every time you got a call from another male or got woken up on fucking Christmas for a pretty damn unspeakable reason, and then told they could do nothing.

Speaking of which, fuck Christmas time. I used to love it but for the past three years, something terrible or depressing (or both) always happens right around then. Oh, holiday cheer. I'm going to go watch porn, write some of the screenplay I've been working on, make a box for my plugs and other jewelry, and then fall asleep around dawntime.

Also, I'm realizing I watch entirely too much late night TV now that I'm home. I just recognized the same woman from infomercials I've seen before on both a ChipMaster (something like that) infomercial and the Trojan Vibrating Touch testimonial infomercial. Fishy.

Hire prostitutes. Pay in beatings.

Nathan just posted this to me. I LOL'd.

I sent this back:

I LOL at Advice Dog variations. Can't fucking help it.

I've had two conversations that made me LOL today. Well, more probably, but these are the two that stick out most. They're more funny to me, though, so I'm sure nobody else will giggle as hard as I.

I'm talking to Greg about Saturday:
Greg: i had an insane time last weekend
Me: I think I almost passed out on sad house lawn. i had no idea i had had that much to drink. david brought me back and i guess i passed out a sidewalk again
Greg: yeah we found your puke sunday morning. it looked really weird
Me: oh god.
Greg: its cool
Me: i forgot i threw up
Greg: yep, you were like "i need to throw up"
then you went on the lawn and did so, then you were there for a while
and me and niels were like
is sam ok? we should check on her
and just then david showed
Me: goddamnit

Goddamnit, go me. I have the alcohol tolerance of toddler. I need to stop that, probably.



Manda, Ryan, and I were driving in Ry's car earlier tonight. They were extremely high. It's about 11:30 pm. Manda turns to us and goes:
"GUYS, if we start driving now, we can get to the aquarium before they open."
So, for some odd reason, I yell:
"GUYS, if we start driving now, we can get to Michigan before it opens."
This made us giggle for like twenty minutes. Later when we were playing Guitar Hero at 2 am and Manda needed to use the bathroom 8 times. Ryan and I staged an intervention.

Get Glad.

The sun comes up before I sleep every single day.

I keep planning for Glad House. I love planning and decorating; I had a shit ton of fun when I just arrived to Chapman because of decorating my room, making stuff, etc. It sounds so stupid but goddamnit, I stay up until 8 AM every fucking day; I need something to do.

I've decided that this summer, I'm going to make a few things for it because...I'm cheap and can't afford tons of new shit. I plan on making:

• Patchwork curtains for my room
• Patchwork pillowcases (also for my room)
• Wood letters carved into the shape of an S, an H, a J, and an A for our first initials, then attach a hook onto each for either coats, purses, or keys. That way we can all keep organized, oui?
• Paintings or large poster-sized photos. I've been meaning to paint for so long and I'd like to start and actually try despite being perpetually afraid of failing/making crap.

I also would like to find (preferably for cheap):

• Record player
• Queen-size bed mattress - I honestly would love to have a queen mattress + a queen frame, but I'm pretty sure the frames cost way too much so I'd rather just make a makeshift bed-raiser somewhere and put a queen mattress on top. I'm seriously so fucking sick of twin size mattresses; my back has never felt good in them and I'm a crazy-moving-sleeper, so I've fallen off many times.
• Other paintings (whether they're done by friends or otherwise)
• Wood plug box - preferably mahogany with a shiny finish, but I really shouldn't be too picky. I just need a nice little place to store my babies.
• Lamps with colored glass
• Wood desk

I already am using that mirror I found in the parking structure that somebody abandoned, so that's off the list of shit to buy. I'm probably just looking on Craigslist once I get there to buy a desk and shelves, but who knows? Perhaps I'll attempt to make some. I know I may seem incapable with most technology, but my grandfather's an amazing blacksmith and good at all other art, and I'm pretty sure he could teach anybody to do anything, so if I get his help, I might be able to make some myself. :)

Tuesday night, Ryan and Eddie picked me up and we went over to Ry's and hung out with Toby and Tom. Ry's grandpa died so shit sucks, and he asked me to make the cake for his aunt Jeani (who was especially asd) like the one I made last January (triple layer white cake with cream cheese frosting, blackberries and raspberries). We got ingredients at Wegmans and went back to his house. I started making the cake, then Manda and James came over and we all baked and Janice flipped out, per usual. Manda brought her delish giant cupcake tin and we tried to make that happen but the oven got angry and regurgitated it back at us, basically. :( We'll try again soon. Jeani deserves multiple cakes for being so awesome. The cake turned out like this:

Ryan and Manda during the baking process:

Tonight, we brought Jeani the cake. She really liked it, I'm so glad. :)

Then, Manda got out of work and we went to BVille Diner. I haven't been there in about a year, SO delicious. Ryan and his papa:

Also, a shot from the plane's window:

Sunset is an all day process.

Decisions: I make odd ones. That is unrelated, but not irrelevant.

I'm home now. It's 4:49 AM and jet lag is annoying (it feels like 1:49, which is still late, I s'pose, but not really for me). My dad picked me up at the airport, we picked up Panda, and she and I hung out all night. It was really nice and I'm fucking stoked on this summer. Om nom nom, there will be BAKED GOODS. And tits. Everywhere.

I went to the airport yesterday to come home; Delta fucked up and I couldn't until today. So instead, I watched horror movies with David all day Sunday (and some of Saturday). Some bad, some good. Three...Extremes, Washingtonians (MoH), Tooth & Nail (8 FTDF), The Damned Thing (MoH), The Blair Witch Project (kehkeh, still gave me a nightmare, oddly enough), The Screwfly Solution (MoH), Dream Cruise (MoH)...probably more but I can't remember now. Screwfly Solution had good ideas but a nonlinear, irritatingly bad storyline. Three...Extremes is really fantastic; I've seen it before but never watched "Box" (the Takashi Miike one - I think I love every movie I've seen of his) and I fucking adored it. It's beautiful and subtle, high context and so harsh. I really love it.

You're rich but I'm free.

Dream Cruise, The Washingtonians, The Damned Thing...all terrible. Some Masters of Horror films are awesome (Imprint, Jenifer, and Cigarette Burns). Some are pretty decent (The Fair-Haired Child, Sick Girl, Family, Pro-Life, Incident On & Off A Mountain Road). And some are fucking horrendous (these previously stated ones along with Chocolate, Deer Woman...probably others). Meh, ah well. The ones that are incredible are genuinely fantastic and worth seeing. Cigarette Burns is one of my favorite movies, period. I think it's pretty ingeniously done and it genuinely scared the shit out of me the first time I saw it. Highly recommended if you actually like horror and the idea of horror films affecting people strongly.

Saturday night, I went to Leslie's and said bye to some people who graduated as well as some people I just won't see the rest of the summer. I got a bit drunk. Understatement. Before I got that drunk, I ran into a door. My nose still hurts but it's kind of funny (now). It was a good time, though. Went to Sad House after. I can't wait to move in. I love preparing for shit and I've already decided how I'm sewing my curtains, pillowcases, etc. and that I'll have a queen size mattress, a record player, and a nice little wood desk. Anyways, precious moment that night:

Trevor, me, and Nathan. Precious.

I'm hopefully getting scarification this summer. The backs of my legs are begging for it. The cuttings (or, perhaps, I might just do red ink so it's permanently red) will look like these pictures (I haven't decided on a definite one, yet):

(Obviously, there will be less detail if it's a cutting.) I'm stoked. I'm definitely getting some text with them; either cursive, red text underneath in Spanish or another short Times New Roman literary quote nearby.

See? I hold them for you!

I leave on Sunday to go home. I packed my stuff up (INSANE amounts of boxes) with David and filled up his car. Kids here are so fucking spoiled and wasteful; they throw away (read: donate far less than throw away) so much stuff. Someone left a full length mirror in the parking structure while we were leaving so I took it. I'd rather take it and use it than have it go to some landfill. I separated all my stuff into recyclables and garbage carefully, and was pretty shocked at the lack of any organization in the actual trash room. Bullshittery. Stupid, careless. Anyways!

Eric gave me a metric ton of music and so I've been listening to dubstep while packing all day. And the Woods. "Broke" is probably my favorite song, but "Make Time For Kitty" is wonderful and makes me smile, too. I'm currently listening to Zomby. I dig it.

Undie Run was fucking fun. Heidi and I got ready and then met up with Nathan and Greg at Justin's apartment. There were quite a few people there and we all continued getting happy, then the four of us went and got stuff from my room, then Heidi's. Then we ran at midnight, went to the dance party, danced for a few hours, had a damn good time, went to Zac's at 4 am afterwards, hung out with Jesse and Alex, and left at 5:30 am. Super funsies.

Some of these are from my camera, but the nice ones are by Sarah Lee (found them via Facebook).

Heidi and I dancing (I'm in the orange). Some guy is trying to pick me up in a peculiar manner (the Force?).


Nathan carrying me :P He graduates tomorrow and that sort of bums me out. There are quite a few people I'll miss that are peacing out this year.


Insanity into the foam party


Us and Ade <3 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images2d.snapfish.com/232323232%7Ffp53684%3Enu%3D3252%3E56%3B%3E8%3B9%3EWSNRCG%3D3264%3C7478232%3Bnu0mrj">
Heidi and I with safety stamps, haha.


Pre-partying


DJs


Jesse and Alex


Jean and Heidi (so stoked to live with them and Anna at Glad House) and I holding Nathan.

'Cause any smokes will kill you.

I'll be waiting in this parking lot,
And in my dreams, I am dirty broke, beautiful, and free.

I'm digging Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains lately.

I'm completely done; I finished all my finals :) I got an A on my Intro to Poetry paper that I turned it two weeks late. He was super positive in his response and I am fucking thrilled; I wasn't sure what he'd think. I wrote a 7-8 page paper on "Gypsy Girl" by Saul Williams from SHE and I'm just really happy Glaser liked it. I'm super sleepy, though, so I think I shall take a little nap and then meet Heidi for cocoa/coffee. Tonight = AP screenings and then I think we might go to Sad House to watch some Twin Peaks with Niels and, if I can get ahold of him, Nathan. Twin Peaks = one of my favorite shows, I can't help it. Dialogue is so ridiculous but the story is awesooome.

Tomorrow is Undie Run and I'm stoked. Heidi and I have our outfits planned out, Dillon's DJing the foam party afterwards, and it'll be a good time. I'm wearing a pretty conservative bra, a scarf, and boxers because...I'm not running around in a thong and a bikini, no thank you. I'd rather not have pictures of me drunk and half-naked around the interwebz, haha. But I'm down for dancing and fountain-playing.

And may the only cocktails we make be Molotov.

"Is New York sucking the soul out of him?"

At Chapman Coffee House. Life is pretty damn good right now despite finals and exhaustion and all that.

Thursday, Tim showed up with his friend Alex. They hitchhiked down here (seriously) because they were on tour and their van broke down in Redding, CA (up north). But Tim promised he'd see me and so they somehow got down here. Us, Greg, David, Heidi, and Greg's new housemate Mikey went to Nathan's and hung out there and drank for a while. Then we walked back at around 2 and Tim, Alex, and I passed out in my room.

Friday, we went and got food and then the two of them came with me to Julia's place because I was in her Visual Storytelling final project. We left around 7, got Chinese food with David, and then went to a movie with Heidi and him at about 10. We saw the remake of Last House On The Left which I will rant about briefly:
The remake is nearly completely different from the original. The original is much closer to an exploitation film than a horror, which is what the remake basically was. The original has different characters, an overall different emotion to the film, and the cinematography was insanely different. The music, particularly, is what makes the first one so uncomfortable but at the same time bearable. They took out quite a bit because it would never, ever be able to be produced today by a major company; things like the mother biting off one guy's dick and the forcible lesbian rape and etc. Instead, they replaced these with even more nudity (because that's more acceptable provided it's female full frontal) as well as "creative" gratuitous violence. Whereas the original, most of the people killed are shot or stabbed, a more likely happening (though, obviously, these are still terrible things), there is a considerable amount of people getting killed off in less "standard" ways. The acting sucked, the script was terrible...it was just an overall annoying film. But it was $1.75 at the dollar theater so whatevah.

Saturday, I woke up for set at 5 AM (a visual storytelling set that was a 12-hour day...seriously). Tim and Alex left a few hours after I did. I got back around 2ish, went to Bliss with Heidi and Anna, and then went back and napped for a while. Then, at about 7, Greg, Heidi, and I got 40s and drank a bit, then went to the Music Tech release party thing at Oliphant. It was super, SUPER fun and we all danced a hell of a lot. I particularly loved Justin, Eric, Andrew Swanson, Dillon, and this other fellow I've met once or twice's sets. They were all super good. Oh, and some girl named Miwa (I don't know if I spelled that right) was fucking amazing. We went to Tiny House after with Matt and it was an overall really good night.

Right now, I'm at Chapman Coffee House with Heidi and we're about to head over to Sad House (soon to be our Glad House!) for Niels' Norwegian Independence Day party. :) I'm stoked.

I need to do some essays and study a bit, but I did that two days ago for a while and I'll do more later tonight, as well as tomorrow post-makeup final.

Oh, and I think I lost 4-5 lbs. I've been walking a lot and eating less, and I feel pretty good. This means I'm about 130, I believe. I'm trying to care less and less; hopefully I can do that sooner rather than later.

Some guy just said the quote that I made the topic of this post.

Atlas In Love

I wrote a poem called "Atlas In Love" a few weeks ago. In my poetry class, we discussed how the sing-song quality of "Daddy" by Sylvia Plath creates a stark (in my opinion, at least) contrast with the content. I realized that that's exactly what the poem I wrote does; it consistently rhymes and has a distinct, clear rhythm. It's quick, simple, and has just four short stanzas. If you want to read it, let me know. It's in an awkward stage because I've read it so many times to myself to fix shit that it's starting to get on my nerves and I almost don't like it as much anymore. Meh, anyways...

I'm here with Heidi listening to Dillon/Eric's radio show in the basement. I'm attempting to work. That's kind of a lie; I'm more just eating muffins and doing this and buying plugs online. I have an addiction to looking at plugs, seriously. Frozen Fire...sigh. All I want is trans red with teal dichro or possibly orange on orange or lime on yellow. Ugh. So beautiful. But I told myself I won't buy any dichro or customs until after I make it to a half inch so that way I won't get antsy. I'm looking for some nice 00g glass to stretch with; my 0g ones are getting loose, which is insane because they've only been at 0g for about a month and a half/two months. I sleep without them sometimes and wear Kaos a lot to make sure they're not being weighed down, but they continue to self-stretch rapidly. Ah well. I'm hoping to get some Gorilla Glass black solids or some honey bulletholes. Sexy.

In other news:

Advice Dog always delivers.

But sorrow is--

Tomorrow, I'm going to a Poetry Club meeting at the fountain. I love poetry, and I even sometimes enjoy reading my own to people, but usually those people are ones that I trust considerably or, if it's in a class, my voice changes somewhat and I simply can't look them in the eyes. Come to think of it, when I write poetry, I often can't look people in the eyes anyways while reading. There's a certain amount of trust that you invest in another person when you show them something deeply personal; it's not like giving a gift, it's more giving a piece of your brain, putting it into their hands, and hoping they won't drop it but will instead just examine it and then place it back, softly, into the puzzle of your head.

I might read the one about the sand castles that I wrote last year or the one about the whore. Not sure yet. Maybe I won't read at all. But if I'm ever to muster up enough actual courage to submit my shit somewhere, I will have to learn to read infront of people besides the three or four others at Writer's Exchange and a few other people. The fact is, most of what I write is semi- or fully-autobiographical, and that often is very clear. I'm terrible, particularly while reading, at concealing the fact that the words are about me, that it is not a hypothetical situation. I am not good at those.

I first read this poem a few years ago. I really like it.

"Untitled" by Charles Bukowski

all theories
like clichés
shot to hell,
all these small faces
looking up
beautiful and believing;
I wish to weep
but sorrow is
stupid.
I wish to believe
but belief is a
graveyard.
we have narrowed it down to
the butcherknife and the
mockingbird.
wish us
luck.

Y'all don't want to step to dis.

I am always hungry and will never be full. Faces, la la, names, fa la la, trenches.

I keep listening to music I listened to from elementary up til high school. Say Anything, Save Ferris, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Laura Nyro, Say Hi To Your Mom, Something Corporate, Against Me!, Paranoid Social Club, Lillix (yay, seventh grade), Bedouin Soundclash, Billy Bragg, The Ataris...seriously. And at least half of those are shit that I probably would talk shit about if it was introduced to me now, which is admittedly sort of dumb, but in general Something Corporate is not a good band, nor is . The other half is still amazing. I love Against Me! forever. I love them so much, regardless of the shitty shit they put out now. I didn't listen to them much for a while because I overloaded on them last year. But like...Jawbreaker and Against Me!, Northstar and even Lifetime, the fucking Locust and every 90s song that we listened to in high school (which became a nostalgia in itself). Everything's making me so happy and nostalgic.

Listening to Against Me! right now, specifically stuff from Reinventing Axl Rose (Walking Is Still Honest right now - which I actually still want to get tattooed on my feet at some point), is making me thrilled. I can't wait to see Panda and Ryan, go to Wegmans and watch LOST and...fuck. It'll be Ry-Sam-Pandamonium.

Sleep has consequences, despite it's normally wonderful benefits. Although, it is such a strange necessity: everything needs to stop being completely conscious for a little while in order to consciously function later. Dreaming has consequences. I have had nightmares since I was very young, and terrible ones since I was 13. Ones that still don't quite go away after I've woken up. The world spins and aches until I've completely snapped out. I should do that. 3...2...1.

All this sleep reminds me: I need a nap, and that is now what I shall do.

We were probably watching Law & Order because LOST didn't exist yet.


DISNEYLAND.


Ry took me to semi-formal. Senses Fail style.


OMG MS.


I was trying to rule the world and Ryry was about to jump and die.


Our band! Wait..




They have a point.


Epic ball.


Manda's grad party. Wasted say what?


Ren Faire :D Ryan beat my ass :(


Road trip.<3

And these are my friends,
and this is my home.

You didn't just switch teams; you left the game.

Goals for the next year or so:

1. Stop being so co-dependent on other people.
2. Write as much as possible. Hopefully, work up confidence to submit things.
   
3. Stop accommodating everyone around me regardless of how it makes me feel.
4. See WHY? live.
   
5. Successfully move into Sad/Glad House
6. Start dreads once my hair is about two inches longer than it is now.
7. Lose approximately 10 to 15 pounds.
8. Get a damn job or at least work on enough sets that I can pay for shit with the money from them.
9. Get a Filbert. If you don't know what that is, please see this article and this picture.
10. Have a fairly large collection of 1/2" plugs (and etc. such stuff).
11. Work on confidence issues, anxiety, etc.
12. Start side pieces, hopefully be done with at least the outlines.

And some other shit I can't write here.

Like a one-armed star.

There is a certain amount of insensitivity that plagues the places I seem to be. It's not as though I think it follows me so much as I follow it for reasons unknown. You know how there's that general belief that girls love boys who are mean to them? This is true and not true; I think people like the idea of "working" to get somebody to spend time with them (I have no idea why this is considering it seems like hitting it off right away would be more desirable) but simultaneously do not want to have to feel neglected or pushed away. So peculiar that we don't readily expect respect; that we'd rather bask in something else. Does it make people feel like they deserve it more if they waited longer? That there was effort involved?

It's also curious, then, that people do this bullshit "hard to get" play in an attempt to feel oh-so-desirable. Girls and boys both do this. It's just...childish. It's like kicking sand at the boys on the playground, trying to make them come over to your side of the box by repelling them further. And yet, I see it everywhere all of the time. "I don't want him to think I'm trying to hard, oh my god!" Logical, but if you are trying too hard, doesn't that just make you disingenuous? I mean, hypothetically, your entire life IS you, trying too hard: planning your outfits depending on what they "say" about your personality, drinking purely for inclusion, being pretentious as fuck (OT: speaking of American Lit, Esdale's now my adviser!) in order to be "impressive"...well, then it almost makes sense that you'd be childish in regards to romantic affairs. However, I've watched so many people I know, particularly here, try to pull off the "hard-to-get" attitude. What the hell?

Is it really that hard to say: "I like you" "I like you, too" and then be fucking done with it? Apparently not. Apparently I just like simplistic bullshit. Maybe I need to start trying harder to appear to try less hard rather than actually be a nice person who makes a visible damn effort to maintain friendships/etc.

Just kidding. Fuck that.

THAT'S WHY I SAID I RELATE.

I am trying to learn how to breathe again.

Stay hungry, stay free, come dance with me.

The past four days have been fucking intense. Between Friday at 10 am and last night at 2am, I slept a total of 3ish hours, ate a total of 500 calories (maybe), and got way too much exercise.

Friday:
I'm having a hard time remembering because, as I've said before, I forget things incredibly easily and often don't remember what I'm doing, who I am, etc. But basically, I did the makeup for Rocky Horror and then left to go to the dance show. I met up with Marie and eventually Heidi. It was a great performance and I'm glad I went.

Then, Heidi and I went to That 70s House. We got fairly dressed up because it was a 70s Porno Party/Everyone's Birthday Party. We proceeded to drink quite a bit and, because Brian was DJing (as well as a few other people), we danced a hell of a lot with everyone. I should not be allowed to dance. Seriously. I legitimately suck at it but I have way too much fun doing it, so I s'pose it doesn't actually matter. Anyways, Heidi jumped in the pool at some point and then Nathan brought Heidi home. I went back with him to Leslie's, then Trevor drove me home (I don't recall most of this), and then David came over because I started getting really upset for some reason, to say the least of the situation.

Saturday:
He took care of me, I passed out, and then woke up at fucking 10 am because I had to go to Wes's set (in Long Beach) for a pick up from two weeks ago. The only awesome (read: fucking amazing) thing was that Long Beach CC has bunnies everywhere. Everywhere you look: RABBITS. They ate from our hands and a couple crawled in my lap. SO cute. We were there from 10:30ish to 5, at which point Matt brought me back and Heidi and I got ready for the premieres. We got super dressed up for it; I even wore my prom dress/dress from Rosa's intermediate, haha.

Time Traveler was amazing, of course. There were a few others that were fucking amazing as well as a few that were...well, one of them looked like it was edited using iMovie or something to that effect and another was basically "The Hills"-type people with fake blood. Anyways, we sat in the back for the first two, then came and sat with Eric/Nathan/etc. Afterwards, Eric took us back to our rooms, she and I curled our hair and then walked to someone's house for a party.

It was a really nice time, actually. I got kind of fucked up but not tanked like the day before. Heidi and I met some new friends who ended up being super nice folks. She left at around 2:30ish with Zac, Jesse, Caleb, and a few other people. I ended up staying with Alex until about 3:15 and then we left to walk to Zac's to meet up with them. We wound up going the (very) wrong way for about an hour - almost to the freeway on Tustin. Then some super creepy guy came out from behind the gas station on the corner of Glassell and Walnut and freaked us the fuck out. We basically ran to Zac's, got there at 4:30, and Heidi and I talked for a long, long time. I had to be on set at 6 so I just decided to stay up all night. Alex passed out and so Heidi and I walked back to

Sunday:
I went to set at 6:15, got there around 7:30ish, and passed out after I did the actor's makeup. It was a really cute place; there were literally around a hundred animals (38 cats, 35 dogs, monkeys, a parrot...seriously, AWESOME) because it was a place where they train animals for films, tv, etc. It was a shoot for an OC Register commercial. I was exhausted the whole time, though, so I didn't feel very well. We got back at 7:30 pm and Marie, Heidi, and I went to The Saloon for the Music Conference. It was really nice, fairly low-key, and extremely fun. We danced quite a bit and I saw some people I hadn't seen in a while. It was actually a pretty wonderful night. Afterwards, I went with Bianca and Heidi. Eventually, I hung out with David; we got tacos and burritos and a Slurpee. A peach mango slurpee = fucking awesome, by the way. I couldn't eat half of what I got, though; I felt too sick. I don't know why I've been getting so ill lately. Goddamnit.

Today, I emailed Professor Esdale and Professor Glaser, my American Lit and Intro to Poetry teachers, respectively. I explained why I don't go to a lot of classes and received pretty positive messages (spoken and emailed) back. Thank goodness. I actually really love both of them in terms of their interest and knowledge about writing, lit, etc. and I even like their classes. I went to Poetry today and we watched a film about Langston Hughes. Talib Kweli was in it as well as the co-producer of Def Poetry Jam, among many others, and it was really great to listen to all the people who have been inspired by the Harlem Renaissance and Hughes and others.

I don't wanna cry my whole life through

Yeah, I wanna do some laughing, too

So come on, come on, come on, come on and

dance with me.

I swear, I care.

Two posts in like four hours. Oh, dear.

Yesterday: Heidi and I went to visit folks at the film school while they finished "The Time Traveler." We wore pajamas. Then, Heidi and I went to Rocky Horror rehearsal with Nathan. Then we went back and hung out at his place for a while, drank a bit, and Sabrina came over, as well. We ended up going over to Whitney's because it was his birthday. Proceeded to get more drunk. Left around 3:30, fell asleep at 4, and woke up today at 9:30 am. How? No idea.
Today: Woke up early. Had lunch with Heidi, Jessica, and John. Doing makeup for Rocky Horror, going to the dance show, then going to That 70s House for their 70s porno party.
Tomorrow: Showing girl who's working on Jessica's set what to do for makeup, then pick-up for Wes's set at 10. Getting super dressed up with Heidi. Then pre-gaming (most likely with Nathan) and being his pseudo-dates for "The Time Traveler" premiere at 7! Afterwards, some sort of party, I'm assuming.
Sunday: Call is at 6 am at the film school for a commercial for the OC Register that I'm doing makeup for (we're working with FIFTEEN CATS...!!!) and going to Santa Clarita for that. Back around 7 and then going with Heidi to the Music Conference at the Saloon.


Time is the weirdest commodity.

Harmonize: Crushing a dead bird's bones with your bare feet.

I feel ill. Not in a Swine Flu kinda way, though. More of a "Wow-dear-god-you're-a-fucking-idiot" kind of way. I feel sick and all I want to do is jump on a train. (Ahoy, dramatics!) I've felt like this on and off for years, and I'm sure too many people feel the same way. I wish there was some way to abandon the present time and go floating around the past or future. This is all I really want.

I wish I was capable of connecting anything besides thoughts anymore.

My alarm sounds but I'm immune to its loudness at this point. I always hit my "Snooze" button on my alarm more than a few times. Eventually, I wake up. I take a shower in which I typically shampoo my hair once but occasionally I'll do it twice. I always wash my face with something exfoliating and then moisturize with a light cream that has SPF 30. I put on clothes, look in the mirror, get upset, then put on more clothes and figure out which option makes me less upset. I put on my makeup, feel slightly better, and then organize my shit. I almost always forget something right before my door closes on my way out. I tap my back pockets to check for my phone and key and lighter. I leave.

I almost always feel like going to sleep for the rest of the day. I go to a class, numbly proceeding to do work. Then I eat, feel bad about eating, stop, and go to another class or go back and sleep. I almost always write throughout the day (though lately my pen's been dry and I can't come up with anything). I try not to step on lines no matter where I go. My OCD gets the best of me daily and it's something I try not to notice and more just accept as a fact of life. I hang out with people most days and enjoy that, but I often just end up wanting to go home or fall asleep where ever I may be. Dreaming is where I'd rather be.

I am not a fun person to be around, I've come to realize.

Or at least, if I was being myself all the time, I would be an extremely not fun person to be around. Maybe two or three of my friends would be okay with it because they already know what a terrible, lazy person I am, but for the most part, if I was to act like "myself," I'd basically just not want to do almost anything that had to do with more than two or three people. I hate large groups so, so much.

Close, close, close.



I feel like when people say "How will the world end?" they typically mean "When will it end for humans?" First of all, the people we are right now probably will be dead by the time that happens (not saying it's impossible that it happens sooner, but given the huge amount of time the world has been around, our 70-something lifespan is really not a big percentage and therefore unlikely to be THE time when it all goes "wrong," though we have fucked up things more than most). Secondly, humans are not the defining feature of the world. It would have almost all of the amazing things it already has even if humans had never existed. In fact...it would have more of those amazing things. Technology, discoveries...they're incredible things, absolutely. But knowledge is just the knowing of all the wonderful things that already exist and technology is merely utilizing this knowledge. Humans have made some great accomplishments; I will not argue that. But if the world ends tomorrow...who cares? We won't be able to. When people try and say "Live for today because you never know when the world will end" blahblahblah, etc., I usually can't help but think, Yeah, but even if you do quit the job you hate or kiss the person you've always wanted to...who really gives a damn? It's not like you're leaving some sort of legacy behind if the world has ended. We're obsessed with believing we matter. I'm not saying we don't, but I think individualism is one of the most fascinating things about humans because we care so much about our own situations. Blah, I'm just rambling now, per usual. I'll stop.