Monthly Archives: July 2004

It’s been a while since I’ve written in my xanga. I was on a little “hiatus” so to speak.

I have returned however, and I am in a sort of stank mood. I usually don’t sit with a scowl on my face when I’m happy. The problem, is of course what it always is–males. I am so ANGRY right now. I feel like I need a cigarette and I don’t even smoke. Let me explain the situation. I could use names, but the motherfucker KNOWS who he is and he probably will read this anyways. I’m not trying to start drama or have enemies @ school before I even get there. So here goes. We were talking on the phone, having a pretty decent conversation. It was one of those easygoing and fun conversations. I was having an enjoyable time talking with him. It made me rethink some things about him, about me, about ‘us’. Anyways, the discussion turned a little more serious and I had mentioned some things that had happened the previous week (I hung out with a male friend of mine). After that information was disclosed, someone started to act funky and I didn’t really appreciate that. I was allowing him to be short with me and say curt comments, but enough is a motherfucking NUFF sometimes. I cannot recall exactly what he said, but at that time I said something like “Ok umm you need to talk to me another time because I will not allow you to talk to me like that. After you’ve cooled down and…” *Click*

Now for those of you who know me, no explanation is necessary.  But for the rest….

I couldn’t even believe my ears. I thought I was tripping. No he did NOT fucking hang up on me while I was in midsentence. Oh, on the contraire he SOOOOOO did. I won’t have that. I just won’t fucking have it. And whats funny is that this ISN’T the first time he’s done this. But it is the last. I just demand a certain ammount of respect, and someone hanging the gotdamn phone up on me is not inclusive in my definition of respect. I cannot believe I let him slither back into my life after hanging up on me the first time. But I am just a forgiving person–I saw something in him that allowed me to move past that, and I never did that for NOBODY. Many many many men have been cut off for doing stupid stuff like that. Looks like I don’t see 20/20 anymore. Like the saying goes….once shame on you, twice shame on me.

Some of you  may think I’m being a drama queen. If that applies to you, FUCK YOU. No, I’m playing. But really, everyone has their pet peeves and that is one of mine. It drives me crazy. Just thinkin about how he hung up on me makes me seething ANGRY–seeeeeeeeeething. I could perform plastic surgery with these laser beams coming from my eyes. It’s time to talk about something else–my computer screen is melting.

No, I just cannot do it. I am so angry right now. I am too angry to even write. Something is terribly wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. And yet….am I even angry right now? Yes, I am. And because I’m a Psych major…let me think long and hard about why I’m angry….

1. someone hung up on me
2.  someone hung up on me.TWICE.
2. my mom drives me crazy
3. my fucking computer kicks me offline and someone with the screen name WHATITIS007 keeps playin on my gotdamn IM
4. i have one month left of living here
5. none of my friends are going to MSU
6. my phone is on low battery
7. my fucking back hurts
8.someone who told me they were going to call me back hasn’t fucking done so
9. i don’t have a boyfriend
10. i hate everyone right now!!!*

*just kidding about #10

You’ll have to excuse me. These scrambled thoughts are  those of myself when I am angry and excited and angry all at the same time. Perhaps I should have kept these thoughts to myself, and perhaps not. But I do feel better, at least I realize what is bothering me. The complicated part is…how does one remedy these situations? Temporarily…play the sims and then go to sleep.


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If these inanimate objects could talk

One might have have thought I was experiencing life while being influenced by something other than life, but that is not the case. sometimes I just get these thoughts, and I wonder if others have these thoughts too. I was told to buy my mother some pie crust from the store. I was walking around sort of lackadasically because I had just woken up not too long before.  I didn’t mind getting up early though, the nice weather puts me in a good mood, and perhaps those extra endorphines made my mind wander. And wandered it did…..down, down, way down into the streets. And on the streets I saw the daily trash that is common place for living in the urban jungle. and instead of casually stepping over the trash sprawled throughout the parking lot I causally stopped and visually inspected the trash in front of me. I was quite taken by a bag of frosted oatmeal cookies. There were three perfectly preserved cookies and one smashed cookie in a small ziplock bag laying near the grocery basket return. And so there I was, standing alone in a nearly empty parking lot, amused–and perplexed–by this bag of cookies. This kind of “perplexion” wasn’t the kind that results from a difficult math problem or a tricky chemistry equation…it was something very difficult to describe. The only way to ease this sense of anxiety, was of course, to question these cookies. I asked a series of questions, none of which were too difficult: how did you get here? where did you come from?  why are you lying alone ? were you the cause of an argument between a mother and daughter over dessert before dinner? were you fought over between two siblings and left on the ground because an agreement could not be reached? or were you simply dropped? I got very angry because no matter what questions I asked the cookies would not answer me, not a ONE of them had anything to say. I thought I would try my luck elsewhere. As I was driving home, I located several clothing items on the side of the street. I slowed down and opened my driverside door to speak to some shorts. They said nothing. I noticed a few personal clothing items located near an abandonded house. There were a pair of red panties caked with dirt. Because abandonded buidlings are unsafe I yelled to them from a distance. what happened? why are you here? were you lost in the result of a struggle? or were you willingly removed? Maybe I was too far away, because they, too, said nothing. My last attempt at conversation was with a pair of gymshoes that were laced together and thrown up on a telephone wire. Everyone knows shoes are a girls second best friend. I should have known from the looks of them they weren’t going to do any talking. The cold blue gum bottoms just glared at me, unwilling to volunteer any information. Perhaps they were silenced by the code of the streets. I was just trying to help! I shouted back. I got back into the car, shaking my head, slightly disappointed. I cranked up 105.9 and went about my business living in the autonomic world.









*just in case you’re slow, no, I did NOT really talk to these objects, but I do wonder how they got there and what their “story” is, or rather, the story they can tell*


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I forgot what I initially planned to write about today, and perhaps that is a good thing. I was reading xanga’s from this one and that one about females. There are posts few and far between on ANYONE’s xanga that actually make me sit down and think. Those, however, did and they brought up several questions in my mind.

1) Why do girls “flip the script” and seem so different from initial meeting?
2) Why do girls who just want ass pretend like they want a relationship just so they don’t get called a hoe/slut?
3) What exactly is a hoe/slut?

After careful examination, I came to the following conclusions.

1)Why do girls “flip the script” and seem so different from initial meeting? “Conversation and interaction is a complex process. People show their best assets, people show what you want to see. Think about it for a moment. If someone constantly tells you how funny you are, you naturally try to entertain. If someone compliments you on your intelligence, you play that up. Whether you can accept the fact you do that or not is a totally different story. I know I do these things, and I have observed these things in most humans I have come into contact with.” (indY;Tuesday, March 02, 2004)

I couldn’t have said it better myself (chuckle chuckle). People are willing to accomodate your needs. Perhaps you meet a girl that says she wants to be respected and is not your typical hood-rat. You like and respect that, and you find her to be girlfriend material because of that. This is wonderful.Yall talk for a while, kick and, and shit is beautiful. Perhaps she feels you are getting bored with her, or maybe you even SAID you are getting bored with her, so she decides to spice things up a bit the next time yall are together. This is where things can get complicated. It’s a matter of security in my opinion. I cannot say that girls who do this are faultless, but I do understand where they are coming from. Some of you may feel my next statements are cop outs, and thats perfectly fine, BUT….the images that females are innondated with from the media fuel certain types of behaviors. It is no wonder why a respectable, intelligent female may feel it necessary to act like, for lack of better words, a stupid, dime-a-dozen trick. Females who do not understand their value as a person and their uniqueness as an individual may fall into this trap. If its not that serious, it could have been a temporary lapse in judgement. And whats awful is that the temporary lapse in judgement is enough for some guys to drop a girl all together. Whatever happened to communication? Whatever happened to saying “You never acted like this before. Whats up with that? Do you think this is what I want? or is this who you really are?” It’s taken me some time, and I still struggle with it, it meaning the lapses in judgement which allow you to do things to fit in, to be noticed, to get attention to ____(fill in the blank with whatever is necessary).Its hard to be a fucking person. Its hard to know who you are, who you want to be, who you want to be with, and what is necessary to obtain those goals.

2) Why do girls who just want ass pretend like they want a relationship just so they don’t get called a hoe?That question seems to answer itself as I read it now. I mean I guess nobody wants to be called a hoe, but then again if YOU know you’re not then why should you care what someone else thinks? Hmm I suppose its because that name can follow you and mess things up for you. I don’t know, I mean…a lot of this can just be chalked up to that age old double standard. Its never going to go away…..(never say never, but yall know what I’m sayin…)

3)What exactly is a hoe/slut? Well, you know I love but they weren’t much help. So I had to keep it real and visit If you’ve never been, visit, its pretty cool. Anyways, here’s a definition that I liked.


1. a girl who has sex but does not enjoy it, who is used by guys and lets them do it. She does not have the self respect to make them stop.

2. a girl who likes sex, so she does it. She probably is not in a relationship, and she equalizes herself to guys by treating sex the same way they do.

*The difference between the two examples of what society labels as “sluts” is that one has self respect, the other does not. No one should be called a slut anyway, especially when the name “slut” is a purely judgemental and stereotypical one, and no one really knows the real story behind it all, which is pretty much always the case.

I used to have a problem (meaning I thought everyone that had casual sex with a slut), but thanks to my friend xt( ) who is possibly one of the most open minded (and FIONEST  ) people I know I changed my mind. Really as long as you are a female that is secure with what you’re doing, comfortable with what you’re doing, and hopefully safe with what you’re doing–I can’t say shit to you about it. I don’t agree with what you do, and yeah I might call you a hoe, but you’re the self-respecting kind of hoe, a kind of hoe that I like . But if you’re a girl that has sex because you think its what guys want, you think it’ll lead to a relationship, or ANYTHING other than the sole fact that you want to do it…I feel bad for you hun, wonder what the hell is wrong with you, and I advise you to stop being a dumb slut.

Now, although I have accepted the fact that some people lead promiscuous lifestyles, I certainly don’t agree with it. Yes, I am generally an open-minded person, but there are just some activities that make me want to vomit. For the most part what people do behind closed doors is just that, and I don’t give a shit what people do, unless “people” is someone I am trying to romantically pursue. But even then, that type of information is on a need-to-know basis.

However….. I’ll never understand the concept of a busto, train, whatever you would like to call it. I don’t see the attraction to a female, or rather HALLWAY thats open for everyone and their uncle. Thats nasty, not freaky, but NASTY and the guys and gals that participate in those kinds of activites are HOES.

I hope I don’t sound contradictory, and if I do, let me know…..

I’d appreciate relevant commentary on this one yall!


p.s. lol i didn’t know where to put this, cara i am staying in hubbard


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I didn’t think I was going to end up updating my Xanga “tonight”, but I am. The television is now completely removed from my room and it is so akward to fall asleep with no noise (I hate that!!!) so I’ll be up for a little bit longer. As a disclaimer, for those of you that I talk to on AIM, Im sorry. My computer and I have a complicated relationship, and its been really mad at me lately and likes to freeze up and/or shut down when I’m in the middle of important conversations. So, for future references, if I sign off on you…its not me, its my computer. I love you all! Well, that is, unless something like this was said….. in such case it is ALL me.

Surgery2G:  you white and you sound so white
xgirlgotskillzx: whatever asshole. stop talking about the way that i speak–seriously.
Surgery2G: xgirlgotskillzx: whatever asshole. white.
xgirlgotskillzx: i don’t think you heard me the first time..FUCK you
Surgery2G: nah i dont think so but u can suck me
xgirlgotskillzx: that would never, ever happen. but what you can do is go fuck yourself because thats the only person who would ever be interested in sleeping with you.
Surgery2G: you can fuck the white friends because they the only who would be interested in sleeping with you
xgirlgotskillzx: was that a typo–or are you that fucking stupid?
(xgirlgotskillzx signed off)

I hate stupid people, especially stupid people who look like a mediocre version of Ben Wallace. But anyways, I’m done with that.

This weekend was mad crazy. On saturday I had a wonderful time at the BrodyBoys picnic. I got a chance to meet Ryan and Dylan and Dnell and a whole bunch of other people, too. And as a side note…let’s just say eye candy extravaganza. YEAH!!! After that, I went to Blanket’s going away party, which was turned sour due to parental units. It’s a very long complicated story and I’ve told it at least 12000 times now that I simply cannot do it anymore. If you dont know her, you probably don’t care anyways. It can simply be summed up by the words “huge blowout fight”. Needless to say it makes me upset that the last time I’ll see her for a really long time( if ever again ) was under those kind of cirumstances. But, there is nothing that can be said. Now that I think about it, I don’t fight with “them”. Them meaning Ervin and Venita (my parents). Its just easier not to, really….b/c I just don’t have anything of my own right now so if I approach them in the wrong way I’d be cut off from everything. Plus, its just a little bit over a month now and I’ll not have to ASK them to do anything anymore. I MIGHT do it as a courtesy (haha, just kidding). I’ll tell them where I’m going if I’m stepping outside of state lines, but other than that….I doubt it. I remember when my sister tried to go on a CHURCH GROUP retreat her freshman year of college and they tried to trip out about it. We just can’t be having that. Can’t and won’t, actually.

I have a feeling this entry sucks hard. I’m feeling tired. This is good, though, its a sign that, I’m returning to normal sleep habits. I’m feeling tired as hell actually, so I have to write down the next thing I was going to talk about which was Fatherhood/parenting and females. I’ll have to talk about that “tomorrow” because right now my brain is starting to malfunction. Oh yeah, and I’m also going to mention boys, how they play too many games, and how a lot of them are fucking up right now. I almost got a second wind just now, lol. But yeah, I’m going to become really acquainted with the sandman right now…

Holla at a playa when you see me on the streets… (damn song is too catchy)!



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I’m beginning to think that I have insomnia or something. I just don’t go to sleep until the wee (weeeeeeeeee) hours of the night. I have THE ghettoest contraption on my head right now. I spent $15 on these damn headphones about a year ago (lol) and I’m going to make them last. I know, I could just buy another pair, but that is no fun. These work just fine with a little preparation. The first thing I had to do, was ducttape the headband part together (it snapped). Well, that worked just fine for a few months, but now the duct tape is loosing is duct-ness and its all goey and gross.  So the headphones need extra support to stay on your head, and that is where the sock comes in. I used to use this headband, but I misplaced that. So basically what you do, is you put the headphones on your head and tie them down to your head with a sock. I know, I know, lol, but really why buy new ones when they work just fine like this!! Its not my fault I have to do this, blame these cheaply “American” made goods.

I’ve put on my thinking cap, and everyone knows the best thoughts occur at 2am. Someone asked me today if i’d ever been in love. I being one of those no- definitely-not-i’ve-never-cared-about-a-boy-in-my-life type of people responded accordingly. And now is the time in which the real thinking comes into play. I was reading, I say was because I’m virtually finished, this book called Seven Attitude Adjustments for Finding a Loving Man by Audrey B. Chapman. I say the title isn’t very fitting because the book goes into some detail about black male and female relationships and the complications in them. There were some things I agreed with and other things that I didn’t. Of course the book addressed the whole “angry black female” persona, and the more that I think about it, that is REALLY sad. I thought maybe I fell into that category but I really DON’T.Something isn’t right when a person will write off an entire population of people just because of the stupidity of a few. Yet this happens all the time, all the fucking time. That is not my style. If one motherfucker ruined life (with him) why am I going to let his devious ways CONTINUE to influence my life and allow him to ruin my future (with someone else)? Thats right, I’m not. LOL.

I was thinking to myself about some of my own personal issues. It’s nice to do sometimes as long as you don’t get out of control with it. In any case, I sincerely have a problem with believing people (boys) when they say things to me. It seems recently that some males are using the word “joking” as shorthand for lying. I think I’ve said this before. But that shit is annoying. For example, if you tell me that you’re “28 years old” and 10 minutes later into the conversation you tell me that you’re “34 years old”, I’m going to wonder what your complex is. So when I call you on it, you tell me you were “joking”. No, I don’t think so. Last time I checked joking was supposed to be funny. However beyond this surface stuff, I just have a hard time believing things. Like today, someone was like “you’re really beautiful”. Now WHY would someone lie about how they think you look? They wouldn’t. Yet I still had to hear it a few times before I accepted it as how he really felt. Yes, its a major problem, I know. But I’m beginning to accept what people say about my looks, because its POINTLESS to lie about that. *Smh* Now, once we’ve passed that milestone there’s the whole “liking me” thing. Now THAT I think people lie about. And there is good reason why people lie about ‘liking’ you. I’m not talking about the ‘liking’ that is synonymous with ‘tolerate’, but the “like like” (hahaha) kind of like. Because when you think someone likes you and you like them back, you’re more likely to do things for them. And im not talking about just that. It is very strange to have clarity at 2:30 in the morning. Very, very strange. I’m beginning to move into a more secure mindset, which I think will be good for me–given the new setting and new life and everything this fall. Basically the new mindset is (and remember, this is something I agreed to at a crazy hour so when I wake up tomorrow and read this I could completely change my mind lol) I’m going to accept what people say as the truth until they give me reason not to. Just fucking. This isn’t Cheers where everyone knows your name and gives a shit about you. Its more like, what people say is going to be neutral–neither automatic truth nor automatic falacy, but just in existence. It’ll be that way until I…hmm…marinate on it, so to speak. I’m skeptical as hell, though….so I thing I’ll be able to sift out some shady people. Might loose a couple of honest ones, too, gettin ornery about me not believing them….but…u can’t win them all. The person that I’m supposed to be won’t get their panties in a bundle about this, and will probably do the same shit themselves. Its necessary to be precautious. Its some shady people out there that prey on the innocent….


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This is going to be a shorter entry, becuase there is a terrible smell coming from this room. Two words: open ass. It is really an indescribable smell beyond that . Yuck! It is unfortunate that I’m going to have to search around in here to figure out what this God- forsaken smell is and where it’s coming from.

Oh, and while I’m thinking about it, for those of you that tried to IM me yesterday and got neglected…..sorry. I was on the telephone with someone and I have problems doing more than one thing at a time on occasion. It’s sad, I know.

Speaking of sad, my lovely Blanket (Katie) is moving to California/Paris in 5 days . I think her “surprise” party is on saturday. Saturday should be quite the busy day for me. Yay!

I was just about to start speaking on something substantial, but this smell….its killing me. Oh, I almost forgot! Good news! The incriminating tape that was stuck in my VCR is now safe in the back of my closet.


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My friend Chess and I were talking the other day about how we always try to work out in our rooms and we decided that if we had the ability to see (or peep) into people’s rooms, the funniest happenings would occur while people were working out. I was practicing some dance moves in my mirror today, lol, and all of a sudden got scared thinking that someone could see me.  I read in one of my books that if you dance for 25 minutes you can burn up to 215 calories. Well, after the 4th of july and the hotdogs and the drinks and all that shiz, I figured it wouldn’t be a bad idea. I don’t know if I don’t have stamina or something…but dancing for 25 minutes isn’t easy. Maybe I was on a level 20 or something like that, but damn. After 5 songs I thought I was going to die. I did get a second wind when “Saltshaker” came on, but after that my legs hurt SO bad. It felt SO good. Haha. I felt really grimy because I was all sweaty and everything, but thats the best kind of dancing! I cannot wait until this fall. YEEEEAH.

I’m having a moment right now. I got yet another rejection letter for one of the scholarships that I applied for. I mean, seriously, who actually gets these things? I was so angry when I opened it. They said something ‘cute’ like “With over 200 applicants, it was very hard to pick just 5”. Sometimes I think the committees that pick the winners are on crack. I was a good student, had a GPA people would kill for, and I volunteered. What could they possibly want? Maybe if I had the uncanny ability to walk on water I would have been selected.

I just got back from taking my little brother to the library. I actually feel bad for him because he got in trouble earlier and got his ass whooped. I dunno, only sick people get off when other ppl are getting their ass whooped. I try to tell him not to talk back, but he just doesn’t listen. I don’t really like the way my parents discipline him because it’s ineffective. One time he’ll get in trouble for cussing them out and another time he won’t. Thats like, rule #1 about punishment–you need to be consistent. And furthermore, his ass is waaaay too old (and too big) to be gettin spanked. I really didn’t get spanked as a child, now that I think about it. It was always my sister that was gettin her ass tear’d up. That’s probably why she is crazy now (Just playing Jessica).

I’m excited for this weekend, because if all goes well I’m going to be going to this party @ Belle Isle. Now, I have two choices. I can either ask my parents if I can go or I can tell them I’m going somewhere else. I mean, I dunno, my sister used to always go to Belle Isle with her friends. *O* Lightbulb. I think I’ll tell them it’s for Chedda’s youth group. Haha. That should work perfectly. If not, there’s always plan B of telling them we are going to see Charlotte’s Web at the Hilberry. But damn, I really DID want to go see that. I’m such a little kid at heart! 😉 But I can make a sacrifice if it means all of us (the girls) are going to be able to kick it for a day. Aw man we used to have *SO* much fun. All 25 of us would pile in Chedda’s geo and act a fool. Yeah, were definitely going to have to make an appearance. 🙂

I’ve been updating my Xanga like crazy, I can’t remember the last time I was this excited about blogging. I might have to go to two updates a day. I checked out a couple of books from the library. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish them within the next couple of days.


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“Keep the pictures: they don’t change, only the people in them do”

Lately I’ve been reading a lot of posts about friends/friendship. Its very complicated because I thought I had a firm grasp upon the concept of friendship, but now, I do not know. I consulted my friend for some help.

1A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.
2A person whom one knows; an acquaintance.
3A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade.

Such a simple definition for something so complex. The person who caused me to question my knowledge of friendship, is someone who, by definition, is a former friend. I do not like him nor trust him nor are we allies nor are we comrades. We used to be the very best of friends. He was my one and only guy friend all throughout childhood. My parents adored him. They trusted him. And of course, predictable like a romance novel story line, human nature follows its path and we are no longer friends. Because there is no need for details, let’s just say that he violated my family’s trust and is NEVER welcome in our house again.My parents wouldn’t allow me to associate with him, but if I saw him around, I saw him. I became accustomed to living my life without him being in it. Time and again I would think about him and what he was doing, wondering if he had straightened himself out. I didn’t care to speak with him or anything of that sort. When I would see him in public, however, I would. Generally the conversation would start with “Hey” and proceed no further. Not many feelings are stranger than making casual conversation with someone you used to be very close with. But like I said, I was very used to him not being in my life anymore and was pretty okay with that. Since January of 2002, I could count on one hand the number of words I said to him until yesterday.

My friend had a 4th of July get-to-together and he happened to be invited by default, and its too long of a story to explain how it happened. He wasn’t a very good friend of any of ours or anything of the sort. Needless to say, everyone was concerned about how the two of us would interact with one another. Much to my surprise everything went well. We just reminisced about all the good times we had had in the past, and kept conversation to safe subjects. For the next couple hours, all of us just sat around and chatted about nothing substantial. When it was dark, we decided to do some fireworks. Everything was going great! We spent a little more time out front just listenin to music and acting stupid. About 12, my friend’s mom comes outside and tells us we should move into the back yard and that she’s going to sleep. Well of course nobody listened and we just stayed out front talkin to some of the neighbors until about 12:30. We all change into our swimsuits to go swimming. Everyone is just chillin in the pool having a good time. By this time everyone is pretty drunk and we’re all just acting a fool. Its probably about 2 now, and I go inside to IM some people on the computer to see if anyone wants to come over. Nobody is really paying attention to anyone else or how much they’ve had to drink, but from what I remember it was nothing excessive. The friend I invited to come over has to work and he can’t make it, which is sad, but I just go back outside in the pool for a little while longer. Everyone is wondering where XY is. We all respond with “I haven’t seen him.” My friend goes into the house to make a phone call and tells us all that he’s “knocked the fuck out” on the couch. We all just shrug it off. A little while after that, I got realllly hungry and had to go in the house again to get some snacks to eat. I walked past the computer room and noticed that someone had just IM’d me. I went in the room, turned around and realized the XY was sleeping on the couch behind me. My friend comes in the house and tells me to wake him up while she gets his stuff ready so we can take him home. I tap him a few times and tell him to get up. I heard a few mumbled groans but he wouldn’t get up. My first thought is that he was warm and cozy and was playing like he wouldn’t get up. So, I decided to slap him a few more times to wake him up. I did, and he just kept on grumbling about something. I went to get some cold water to dump on him to wake his ass up. Before I could even get up out of my chair I heard him puking behind me.

I rush outside and get two of my friends in there to help me with him, and by “help” I mean slap the shit out of him to wake him up. All of us had taken this class about what to do in situations like these, but of course we were unable to recall everything we had learned. I looked up symptons/signs of blood alcohol poisoning, and he had each of those listed. We were trying to decide what to do first, when we decided to call his sister. As soon as he heard that, he was like “no, don’t call her, don’t do it”, and then goes out again. Of course we did it anyways. To our surprise, she responded (or screamed rather) “you know what…if he wants to drink like that, he can deal with the fuckin consequences. if you bring him here and he doesn’t have his key, i am NOT going to let him in the house.” My friend goes outside to move her car up close to the house so we can put him in. Three of us are struggling to lift him up. We expected him to help us a bit, but when he stopped answering us and had no control over his own body, we knew something was very wrong. And then the panic set in. I was so close to being “totally fine” throughtout the whole situation that I thought I was going to be able to compose myself. Or not. When he was just lying there lifeless, I lost it a little bit. And by a little bit, I mean a LOT. We rush outside to see if another boy is still over. He is.. He says that he’ll carry XY and put him in the car. Just as we are beginning to do so, XY fully regains consciousness.

Fastforward>>>We were still going to take him to the hospital just to make sure everything was straight, but at the last minute decided to call his sister again. Its not like the hospital would do shit without insurance anyways….She said to just bring him home and that she would deal with anything that needed to happen.

After everything was as straight as it was going to be, we were all sitting outside talking about the events of the night. Even though the situation isn’t knee-slapping funny, there was a comedic event. As we are all trying to handle the situation with XY, the youngest girl at the party comes in the house and goes “Can we heat up these chili cheese fries?” Haha, really, I know I know but it WAS funny. Not at the time, but afterwards (and now) I see the humor. We also talked about how this incident makes all of us very wary of drinking again, especially up at school.  I cannot expect someone that DOESN’T know me, someone that isn’t a FRIEND to do all that for me if necessary. Another one of our friends had a similiar incident expect his “BEST ” friends left him alone in a cold shower for 90 minutes. And so that is why I ask, what is a friend? How is it that someone’s truest, someone’s comrades, someone’s FRIENDS can leave them like that? And conversely, people that are not your friends look out for you?

And with these unanswered questions, I returned to

Word History: The relationship between Latin amcus “friend” and am “I love” is clear. In English, though, we have to go back a millennium before we see the verb related to friend. At that time, frond, the Old English word for “friend,”was simply the present participle of the verb fron, “to love.”

So at the end of the day, I’ve come to a conclusion. It is possible to be friends with someone, but not love them, and to not have love in your heart for them. Likewise, it is just as possible to have love for someone that you are not friends with,and to have love for someone that you despise. I feel like I have had a moment of clarity. Its gone and passed now, but for a moment in time it was there.

*Oh, and as I side note DON’T get the wrong motherfucking idea and think that I am “friends” with XY now or want to talk to him on a regular basis. I can’t stand that kid….


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The room with the red door

There is a very special room in my house. It is located just below ground level, more commonly called “the basement”. In the past 15 years, I have only once been inside that room. I can recall the very day which this occured. It was very soon after we had moved into this house, I am not sure of all the particulars, as I was very young. In any case, I remember going down there and having a feeling like none other. Now, as I am older I realize this feeling is anxiety. This anxiety which I felt was not pleasant. It was my sympathetic nervous system being overactive. THAT kind of anxiety. It was that horrible feeling that kept me out of the basement for many years. That was, until I was about 8 years old. For some odd reason, my mother thought that this age was a good time for me to start washing my own clothes ( and believe it or not, I have been). The first few times I was down there she accompanied me and gave me instructions as to how to use the washer and dryer. Since this task is not rocket science, I soon began to wash clothes alone. Initially, there was nothing wrong with my basement. One day, however, things changed.

There is this little box near the washer and dryer. It isn’t a light socket or anything recognizable. It is the remants of something. I, however, have no idea what once lay here. In any case, I would always hear voices coming out of it. Human voices, of course, and they were just talking. I cannot remember what was said. I can remember telling my parents about it, and they went down in the basement with me, and I showed them were I heard the voices. Of course when they were down there with me, there were no voices. One of my most vivid childhood (damn, I can’t believe I can say that) memories is the first time I saw something. And by something, I mean….something intangible. Naturally I was in the basement alone, washing my clothes when I just had this feeling. This anxious feeling like something was going to happen. And then I felt it. A light touch on the arm. By light I mean it wasn’t a slap, but this was no feather light touch either. It was something to get my attention. It served its purpose. But like these things go, by the time I had noticed the touch and decided to react by turning around, nothing was in plain view.I heard noises coming from an area near the furnace, and like a bad horror movie I decided to check things out. I slowly walk over there, and to my surprise I see a boy standing there. His skin had a reddish hue, and the color of his hair was a deep blue-black…. like he was Native American or something. He wore no shoes and no shirt. He had on some type of shorts. He looked to be about my same age, maybe + or – a year. I was stunned, scared of course. I wasn’t trying to stick around or strike up conversation so I screamed and ran upstairs. I remember telling my parents what happened but they told me I didn’t see anything. Their denial, I feel now, was an attempt to make me sleep at night. In retrospect, I was a very precocious child. I would read books about the paranormal and energy and psychic stuff and all that new age stuff. My parents however were not feeling that. I don’t know why I expected them to say what I saw was real….these are the people that told me there was no santa claus…


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I decided to change things up a bit. Surprisingly, customizing your xanga is a bit challenging, especially because of all the restrictions put on when you are not a premium member. I woke up “early” this morning and by early I mean before my usual time of 3pm. The television in my room is broken and this brings me trouble. It brings me trouble for a number of reasons. One, my bloody television is broken. Secondly, I left a tape in the VCR and am unable to remove the tape.  Thirdly, and most importantly, the contents of that tape. Ever since we got HBO back, I had taped a few shows. I’m sure you know what kind of shows I’m talking about, and if you don’t….you better ask somebody. Right now no harm is done, but they (my parents) say they are going to take the TV to the shop to get it repaired. And this, naturally, brings me grief. I could “forget” to mention the fact that the tape is in there and the technician may just take it out and hand it to them. They, of course, are going to ask me whats on it. Thankfully I recorded Martin Lawrence’s comedy special on there as well, so I’ll tell them that is what it is. However, the last time I watched it I was watching something a little different 🙂 so if the tape was ever to be watched, Martin Lawrence wouldn’t be on…. I guess its not the end of the world, I mean I am eighteen years old, but nobody wants their own parents to KNOW for certain that they watch those kind of tapes. LOL. And trust me, my parents are not the kind of parents that ignore this kind of thing. It’ll become a huge joke to tell. I can see it now. “We finally found out why Vanessa liked to spend so much time in her room…….” It makes me cringe.

I am so totally annoyed right now. Remember all that crap about being homesick. Yeah, well erase that. Ever since I’ve been back everyone has been on my fucking nerves. Do this do that. Blah blah blah. And heaven forbid I express a little emotion when they ask me to play cinderella. This isn’t fucking McDonalds or Children’s hospital: I don’t have to smile and/or pretend to be happy while mopping or cleaning up shit. Like right now, as I am typing this, I’m trying to have a little alone time, maybe like 45 minutes tops, and I’ve been interrupted at least 90 thousand times. Most recently, “you need to do the dishes”. Well if you want me to do the dishes, take your ass out of the kitchen. I’m not going to stand there trying to work while you’re just in the way daudling around doing nothing or breathing down my neck. I mopped the kitchen floor today and of course anyone with a brain figures that you have to sweep the floor before you mop it. So my dad comes into the kitchen and goes “sweep the floor too” and of course I replied with “i ready did it”. So he says “do it again” of to which i say nothing, obviously, because if I did say anything it would have resulted in another grounding. “Did you hear what I said?” he says. “Yeah. I just didn’t have anything to say,” I replied. “Well…ummm, well…”he says. Yeah, exactly what I fucking thought.

Damn, all these chores have me in a nasty mood. I think I feel a rant coming on. I’ll try to suppress it by thinking happy thoughts.

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