Tale of two cities

2009 was awesome. And it sucked. It did both and it did both with great fervor.

So, without further ado, here are the top 5 best and worst moments of the past year. Ever.

WORST.

FINE: Alright, let's all get this out of the way. The breakup sucked. Hard. But everything has gotten so much better since then that it's really difficult for me to even really remember how bad it was. I have to rely on reading my old posts, and its obvious that it was a pretty low point for me. So the breakup is going on the list. But time really does heal all wounds - I love where things are today.

Date Rape (almost): I don't remember much of what actually happened: I went up to the extra bedroom with him in a drunken daze, chaos ensued, and I ended up half-clothed, cowering on the floor of a small closet and feeling my lungs constrict more and more with every breath. He kept coming closer and I was too paralyzed to move or even to scream what was running through my head: no no no no no no no no. Then the others came into the room and I don't think I've ever been more relieved in my life. Or more humiliated, more dirty, or more confused.

Age of Discovery: The fact that I still think I'd punch the leaky pipe if I ever saw him again is a ringing testament to just how much his douchebaggery sucked. He had nothing to gain from this except confirmation that he knew how to work a computer and he had an itchy "Forward to All" finger. Did nothing but cause about 27 heart attacks and convince everyone involved that he's a squeal. Well done, you fucker.

Guilty as Charged: Whether I was directly responsible, whether I had a major or minor part, whether I was doing it on purpose, it doesn't matter. What matters is that I hurt my best friend, and even though it's been months upon months upon months since then, I'm very sorry and very ashamed. From then on and from now on, my life will be clique-free or she has full permission to take the Lovely Latvian away from me forever. :-)

Runaway: "I don't know what to do with her anymore. I give up. I'm done. She's nothing but bullshit." Like I wasn't standing right there in the room listening to them talk about me as if I were an asylum patient. So I solved their problem and I left. It was cold outside, and the world can be scary at 4 in the morning. But I wasn't sure whether I'd feel any safer at home.

Well that was fun. Let's continue.

BEST!!!!! Disclaimer: There really are way too many to narrow down to 5. But I'll try. So if your favorite isn't on here, I didn't forget it.

Labor Day: Do I really have to say much else? Not only was this one of the most ridiculous weekends I've had pretty much ever (wild party + awkwardly revealing conversation at slightly less wild party + broomball = ????????), it marked the beginning of everything returning to normal...ish. Sweet.

Nuts and Crackers '09: I've never danced better in my life, and my best friends were there to watch me do it. This was the culmination of years and years and years of spending every extra minute of spare time with my favorite ballet geeks. We laughed, we sobbed, we were as proud of ourselves and each other as a parent is of his child. Ballet Arte girls + Prince in Training.....we done good. This was the best performance of my life. Some additional perks: spending time with her, eating way too much food, hot cider, glitter dust, whore makeup, clucking the entire Nutcracker Suite, best friends and flowers. And BOWLING.

"Yes": I don't have to feel the same way that I did then to remember how happy this made me. I was so scared that he would say no. And then he said yes. And all was well and right with the world. All about the simple joys, my friend.

Waste Not: Alright, there was a section of PDW that was downright awful. The rest of it was pretty fucking great. I still can't believe that was only 2 days of insanity. It felt like 16. This is one of those weekends that I'll still talk about with my college roommate three years from now. KILLER ANTS! KILLER AAAAAANNTTSSS!!!!

Against all Odds: So the breakup sucked. But you know what didn't? Having prom pictures taken of me and my upgraded date Smooth Operator (buahahaha) literally less than half a week after JX and I split. I win this round, sweetheart. Nobody puts Baby in a corner.

So there you have it. The best of times and the worst of times. Here's to another year that will hopefully be as crazy as the last.

All Tangled Up Like Balls of String

I'm covered in salt, my hair is stringy, and my hands smell like coconut. I love it.

Viva Mexico.

The Good:

-Submitted everything except Oxy and USC. They're basically afterthoughts anyway.

-I speak the best Spanish of anyone in my family. Ergo, I am the go-to translator, which means I get to spend a lot of time acting sophisticated and cultured for the cute federales in camo with very large guns (hur hur hur) who stop our car going in and out of Tulum.

-Seriously. These boys can't be much older than me. And they're cute. With very large guns. And so far, they like me. Which is good, I guess, considering that their very large guns are fully operational.

-Doggies at the house!

-The waiter would like to know if the señorita would like a piña colada. Yes please.

-Bones Season 3 DVD box set.

The Bad:

-My skin appears to be falling off, starting with a particularly nasty peely scab on my chin. This is serious Amy Winehouse shit.

-My first semester grades went to shit.

-All of my friends are somewhere else. :-(

-She's somewhere else. :-(

The Ugly:

-Just because I'm an American does NOT mean that I don't understand the things that you, Mr. Fat-Artesans-and-Crafts-Store-Owner, are saying about my mom. My father is nodding and smiling because he doesn't pick up on what you're saying. I do. STOP IT. You're not her type.

In case I come back too late

Here they are, for all of future posterity.

My resolutions for 2010

1. I will treat my family with the love and respect that they deserve.

2. I will stop lying about (to?) myself.

3. I will make someone laugh every day.

4. I will give people the benefit of the doubt sometimes.

5. I will let myself fall into a whirlwind of whimsy and ridiculousness.

Happy holidays.

Out of reach

I know what I want for the rest of my life. I want it so much that it hurts.

And now it's too late.

I wasted so much time...

Letters you were never meant to see

Reading this book makes me sad.

Because I could have written any one of them.

Christian Bale says

OHHH GOOOOOOD FOR YOU

Dirty Diana

Deferral.

Car ride.

"You say you want a real solution...Don't ya know its gonna BE...ALRIGHT"

Smile.

Altoid.

Pink ribbon.

Fly.

Snowflakes.

Symphony.

Cigarette smoke.

Basil.

Car ride.

"Gaga Oohlala"

Puppy.

Bones.

El otro lado.

Bones.

Smile.

Sleep.

Lockdown

math math math math math math math math math math math math math math eat eat math math math math math math math math math sleep(?) math math math eat math math math math dance dance dance dance dance dance dance dance dance eat math math math math math math math math math math math math english english english math sleep eat finals math math math math math math math

End of the Rope

We're getting there. Ever so slowly, but we're getting there. Just a week.

'Reneé'...that's what I'm going to call her here.

It's a pretty name. Isn't it? Fitting for a pretty dancer and a pretty girl, I think.

She's the kind of girl you want to go out into the cold with just so you can share a blanket an hour later. The kind who will spend hours writing a love poem on your arm with eyeliner. The kind who will jump into a pile of leaves while wearing a formal dress even if it means she'll be covered in twigs and dirt for her prom photo. The kind of girl who will find a smile in a cup of coffee. The kind of girl whose laugh could fill a palace.

During the assembly today, the speaker said that any artist essentially does what she does for a specific handful of people to see. I dance for my family. I dance for my friends. I dance for myself.

I dance for Reneé.

This isn't love. That sort of thing doesn't happen for a very long time. But it's something. And it's pretty special.

Heart Shaped Glasses

But in my arms, she was always Lolita.

I've felt lust towards another girl before. That is nothing new to me.

This is special.

I love her laugh, her voice, the sparkle she gets in her eyes just before she's about to speak. I love looking behind me in the mirror to see if she's watching me as I dance. I love her hugs. I love the feel of her lips on my forehead. I love the random little texts she sends me throughout the day just to make me smile. I love the way she talks about the moon. I love the wild curls of her hair. I love the hearts and flowers she draws on my arms.

Lolita, Lolita, Lolita.

Piercing sounds

My hands are rough.

My back is strong.

My skin is blotchy.

My words are wrong.

My lips are cracked.

My eyes are dry.

My breath is smoky.

My body's rolling high.

You are wonderful. Beautiful. You're the one I dance for. I wish you danced for me.

Back of a postcard

MY SECRET: Every time I dance, I dance because no matter how irrational this is, I hope that somehow you're watching. And I hope that you fall a little bit more in love with me.

Hell

These are the moments in which you wish the world would stop and you could disappear.

Rosebud

1. Filming doth go well. I'm covered in red dye, but otherwise everything's good.

2. SOOT is getting a little less painful.

3. Ballet is as incredible as ever.

4. I only have one enemy and I don't really give a shit about him.

...huh. All is well. Imagine that.

Feel like a rockstar

I wanna smear my eyeliner and look like hell.

I wanna scream until I'm raspy.

I wanna drag my nails down your arms.

I wanna bite my tongue and jump.

I wanna wear bitch boots and I wanna wear them proudly.

I wanna make drinking sexy.

I wanna kiss you with bleeding lips.

I wanna dance like I mean it and I want you to not want me to stop.

I wanna rip my clothes.

I wanna not care if my bra is showing.

I wanna point to my bruises and remember exactly where I got them.

I wanna go crazy.

I wanna intimidate the fuck out of you.

<3

I love my cousins.

That is all.

What a night

Lesson learned: When over half of the bottle is gone, it's probably time to stop. Unless you want to spend the hours from 2:40-5:25 in the morning cleaning up spilled booze and vomit.

I've been waiting for so long to see my favorite cousin - the crazy, bisexual artsy one. We talked a lot online and over the phone, but a face to face meeting was necessary. Finally I got to see him yesterday for Thanksgiving. The day started out innocently enough. He and I went to downtown Tempe, visited some of the cool herb and smoke shops, bought jewelry from street vendors and walked on glass for money (apparently he's gotten into street performing and he does this regularly). We snuck onto the roof of a Chase credit card building to smoke some of our newly purchased goods, then promptly went back down to the street to get sodas. I met a nice man who offered to pay me as a part of his street performance act; it's too bad I don't live in Tempe, otherwise I could have made some good money as a jazz singer.

We met up with the rest of the family back at the house and my brother, my artsy cousin, my other favorite cousin (his twin) and I parked ourselves in the desert with paper plates piled full of food. We talked about virtually everything ever and then we decided it would be a good idea to visit our other cousin who just got out of rehab. She's doing alright. She looked good, she sounded happy, and her nutcase of a mother isn't around to drive her insane.

It was dark now. We managed to convince our parents to let us stay at the house overnight while they went back to the hotel. Once again, the night started off innocently enough. The four of us went to the guest house to watch raunchy movies and listen to trippy music. We all went out to smoke again (my other favorite cousin doesn't smoke; he's a serious cross country runner) and we resumed watching the movie. I don't know exactly when I fell asleep, but it was before the movie was over because I don't remember watching the credits.

I woke up to the smell of Jack Daniels. My two cousins (lets call them Thing 1 and Thing 2 - Thing 1 is artsy bisexual one, Thing 2 is the cross country runner) were both lying at the foot of the bed. Thing 1 was waving the unopened bottle around and saying my name in various accents. My brother was still playing GTA.

Three seconds after I opened my eyes, I was bombarded with requests to take the first shot. I figured I hadn't had a chance to party with my cousins, so I took a swig and passed it. Thing 1, not to be outdone, took two quick drinks and handed the bottle back to me. I opened a can of coke, made us both cocktails, counted down to three and tipped my glass back. The night went downhill from there.

The final count as of 2:30 am was:

Me - 3 shots, two Jack and Cokes, one whiskey on the rocks, and unnumbered sips in between formal drinks

Thing 1 - 7 shots, two whiskeys on the rocks, unnumbered sips x 2

Thing 2 - 2 shots, one Jack and Coke

Brother - a few sips before deciding he didn't like the taste

Thing 1 was clearly in the lead, but I had no intention of catching up. Still holding the much-emptied bottle in his hand, he staggered around the room speaking exclusively in a Scottish accent, telling his brother how much he really cared about him and proclaiming that he would get Thing 2 and my brother laid as soon as possible. He may or may not have said something about how his best friend thought I was ridiculously hot. I chose to ignore it. I (perhaps stupidly) chose that particular time to tell my brother that I was bisexual. I don't think he was terribly surprised. The next day he asked me a few questions about it, and that was that. I also decided it would be a good idea to announce that I wasn't a virgin, which surprised everyone except for Thing 1. Thank god I still had the wits about me to keep mum about the details of my escapades. Thing 2 was listening to his iPod on the floor and then connected it to the speakers in his room. We put on Hendrix, cleared the chairs out from the center of the room, and started an air-guitar jam sesh.

It was at that moment that Thing 1 staggered backward, dropped the bottle on the bed, and fell into my arms. For a few seconds, he continued to loudly proclaim that he wasn't drunk, that he could stand on his own, and that he was Bionic Man. Then he went silent. Before I had time to react, I realized what was about to happen and I drunkenly stood in the center of the room as the boy leaning against me proceeded to projectile vomit all over me and then pass out. I've never sobered up more quickly in my life.

If I don't make it as a performer, I'm going into emergency response. We were beautifully efficient; we got everyone showered and mouthwashed, got me out of my dirty clothes and into clean attire, got Thing 1 out of his dirty clothes and into a warm bath, got the carpet cleaned out, got the clothing and booze-soaked bedsheets in and out of the laundry, got Thing 1 into clean clothes and into bed, got the bottle out of the house and into a neighbor's full trash can, got the shower rinsed out and got everything completely Febrezed in under 4 hours. Didn't leave a fucking trace.

Dignified night? Not in the slightest. Innocent night? Nope. Fun night? Not after about 2:45 in the morning, it wasn't.

Worthwhile night? Definitely. In a really sick sort of way, this story serves as one huge reminder of how close we are. I said things I haven't said to some of my closest friends yet. Yes, we were drunk, but we were honest, we were heartfelt, and we were loving. Until I got puked on, it was the most fun and the best conversation I've had in a long, long time. Even with the vomit, I think I'll take it.

Judge me if you will. But this was a good Thanksgiving.

Turkey Day

The Good:

-seeing my favorite cousin

-going out into Tempe with my favorite cousin

-getting drugs with my favorite cousin

-meeting the friends and significant other of my favorite cousin

-going into Tempe with the friends and significant other of my favorite cousin

-hanging out with my favorite cousin and all of his friends and acquaintances

The Bad:

-seeing all of the other family members

-being in a hotel with my own family members

The Ugly:

-one cousin is still missing

-one cousin is going back to juvie today

-their parents are getting divorced

-the father has taken my other uncle out of his will and has disowned my other cousins

-the mother has started drinking again

-we're getting everyone together for Turkey Day. eeeeeveryone.

Candy colored smoke

My brother made an interesting accusation today.

It bothers me.

That is all.

We're staying tuned

Now, before I begin, let me preface this by saying that I'm really not too upset. Of course I'm a little disappointed, but this is something I can easily handle. So, keeping that in mind, I'll fill you in.

Turns out that it really was a purely physical thing. And no, I'm not reading bad things into this. I asked a straightforward question and I got a straightforward answer. That's all.

However, I'm not too concerned. Sure, I'm a little miffed. Who wouldn't be? But it's not because I sat around and waited for something that never came. I went for something...I actually went for a lot of things and I ended up getting most of them. The most I could ever do in this situation is be direct and dignified. And for that, I'm proud of myself and I can say that I'll move on very very soon. This is the end of this particular story. Everything else is still very much a possibility.

'Cause every little thing...is GONNA BE ALRIIIIIGHT :-D

This...could actually happen

Could it be?

Is there a possibility that....that I just might have a boyfriend by the end of the month?

Stay tuned.

Walk with me to the stars

I need a sanctuary.

I'm not really safe at home (another night of being forcibly held down in my chair until I eat what they deem to be enough? No thank you). School is a little better, but not by much. I'm at ballet for less than three hours a day; it's not enough.

So come with me to the last safe place.

The deed is done

I sent the text.

I haven't looked at my phone yet, so I don't know if he responded. Too nervous.

Yay...how can I have the jutzpah to say what I said and still be too much of a pussy to LOOK AT THE REPLY?

EDIT:

me: so...are you gonna fuck me or not?

him: haha that's straightforward

...yeah, unlike your answer.

me: do I seem like I'd be subtle?

I swear to god, if he doesn't make a fucking decision soon, I'm gonna get bored and move on. Patience is not a virtue.

Last stand

I've got a few options here.

I can do what I've always been inclined to do: I can pull back and stay safe. I can go back to being firmly entrenched in Friendland and this flirtatious liason can be over before it begins. I can try and convince myself that it was all just a big joke, that there's nothing left worth sticking around for. Sure, it'll hurt, but at least I escape with my dignity intact.

I can just wait until he gets better and then make a move. I could be the bad girl that I've always fantasized about being. I could get sexually charged and turn the tension into action. I could get physical and I could play with my hair, laugh, bite my lip...anything to keep up the illusion that this is just fun and games for both of us.

And the most dangerous option of all...I can take a flying leap of faith and let him know that this isn't just a physical desire (although heaven knows that's certainly an important part of it). I could tell him how I *gasp*...FEEL.

What's going to be my last stand?

Poker face

Imma pokeYOUR face. AHAHAHAHA

The weekend was so good...SO good.

What the hell happened?

This merits a "meh"

>:(

That is all.

and BREAK

As much as I'd love to go back to writing my personal statement for the UC application, I'd much rather write about things I actually care about.

So I'm gonna take a break.

A big part of me is expecting to wake up tomorrow and realize that this was all just an elaborate hoax dreamt up by my subconscious to torture me. I'll go to send a flirty text tomorrow and I'll notice that two days worth of conversations never actually happened.

Considering how many times I've slipped into vivid daydreams that bear way too many similarities to the past few days, it wouldn't surprise me if none of it was real...

That being said, I'm excited. (in more ways than one...TEEHEE). A little bit scared, but excited. Scared because nothing remotely like this has ever happened to me, and I'm still a little off-balance. Excited because....well yeah.

Will have more to talk about after B block tomorrow..."I got a feeling...that to[morrow morning] is gonna be a good [morning]"

New highlights

him: fuck I wish i could have been there. i swear to holy fuck, god himself is working against my desires

him: alright, so it's kinda weird....but strip teases are hot as fuck.

me: ballerinas make fantastic exotic dancers

him: ...i'd probably kill to see you strip for me.

him: ohh my god, just imagined it. fucking hot as hell

him: i know i've said this before, but fuck, the things I would do to you

him: how about me unbuttoning your pants with my teeth?

him: fuck that, i'd literally rip every article of clothing off of your body

me: if I drag you to a secluded spot on monday, don't be alarmed

him: i'm all yours

him: fuck...can you come over right now? please? what i'd give to be with you...

B block. He's fucking mine.

Official

Well, I think it's safe to say that the stakes have officially been raised.

He wants to fuck me like there's no tomorrow. I want to oblige.

Let's see what happens.

WHAT DO I DO

me: Gah...so bored

him: I coulda made you not bored ;-)

him: tell me a story

me: once upon a time, there was a girl who was crazy flexible and people kept bending her into insane positions. the end

him: i think that's hot

him: haha you have it easy being hot

me: that definitely depends on who you ask

him: well I'm asking me. and I say you're fucking hot

me: haha you guys should rescue me. come to solana beach!

him: okay if I come alone?

me: gah why am I not hanging out with you guys. this sucks

him: i know. god, the things I would do to you

me: wow, not shy at all are we?

him: not at all

HELP.

Walk on the wild side

I haven't been this giddy over a boy in a long time.

I unconsciously preen whenever I imagine there could be the SLIGHTEST chance he sees me.

My eyes relax when I'm around him, like I'm trying to show him something beautiful that I keep a secret.

His smile can make day go from zero to awesome in about 3.4 seconds.

I can't even tell you how many songs I can listen to and only think about him.

I daydream....not about kissing or sex, but about conversation and laughter. That's how I know this is legit.

Now to take the jump......to tell him or not to tell him. That is the question.

Do I dare walk on the wild side?

All I wanna say is that they don't really care about us

Michael Jackson. All day. Nonstop.

The only good thing about ridiculous days of all work and no play.

On the upside, I finally finished my senior speech. Yes, I know it was due last Tuesday. Don't particularly care.

As of now, I've got an entire psych paper to write (which I'm now so much less terrified for because it's essentially just like the book report I wrote on a biography when I was in 5th grade) and I've got a Hamlet paper that I need to start.

Long night ahead? Yes.

What's up buttercup

I just can't stop loving you.

Things would be so much easier if I could just fucking tell him. And if he felt the same way. Yeah, that would be ideal.

There is NO classier music...

than the Bee Gees.

Yup yup yup.

Filling in the Spaces

There's been way too much empty space.

I can't go to ballet class regularly because I've got an unfinished application that needs to be finished by Friday. I'm going insane.

PC has swine flu. There goes my incentive to care about the way I look at school.

I'm spending way too many lunches studying alone in my car for tests that I'll never be prepared for. I miss my friends.

The same detachment and haze I felt in freshman and sophomore year is coming back. It hasn't hit full force, but I can feel it creeping up. The old jokes that we all know and love don't make me laugh anymore. My smiles are half-hearted and my responses nonexistent. What shouldn't bother me pisses me off and what should bother me doesn't spark a reaction at all.

I'm worrying about my food again. How much I'm eating, when I'm eating, what I'm eating, what will happen if I eat this or that, what I ate yesterday. How long I can go without eating, when it starts to hurt. Whether I can create enough empty space.

I'll tell you something; the end of last year certainly wasn't fun. I was in pain nearly all the time. But I was feeling something, which is more than I can say right now. How can something possibly hurt so much and still be better than the empty space?

It's no secret that I'll indulge in a few recreational substances. It's been a part of my life since fall semester of junior year. But back then I was doing it to have fun. Now I'm trying to fill in the gaps, and even I'm sharp enough to recognize that's a scary sign.

I want me back.

Hmm....

It's interesting how I can track my life through the "Once" soundtrack.

"I think it's time we give it up, and figure out what's stopping us..."

While there's still something left to save

WOAAAHH WOAAAHHHHH OOOHHHHH

I got sick...fantastic.

I think it's just fleeting, so I'll still be at school tomorrow. But keep a wide berth. Probably not taking psych test tomorrow. Another thing to worry about over the weekend.....

I went and saw my therapist for the first time in about 6 weeks. I caught her up on pretty much everything that's changed. That I'm (sort of ish not really kinda) openly bisexual-except to my family, friendly acquaintances, teachers, close-friends-who-aren't-quite-close-close-friends. That I pretty much completely repaired things with JX and that we're better friends than we were at the beginning of last year. That I've made friends with Maria Juana (although the extent of that relationship was greatly watered down in my description...)

It felt good to talk to her again. I really shouldn't let that much time pass between appointments.

Maybe I'll SNAP. AHAHAHAHAHEEEEHEEEEEHEEEEEEEEEIAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIII.

I don't hate you, but I just want to save you....

Well....

Mixed signals abound.

I really don't know what to think. I have next to zero idea about how he really sees me. Maybe I'm not girly enough. Too girly. Too blunt. Too subtle. I don't fucking know.

To Whomever it may concern

Hi.

I'm not so good at the whole subtlety thing, so I guess I'll just come out and say it...

I'm kinda into you...

You can do with that what you will I guess. I just wanted to tell you...so I wouldn't have to wonder and think about all of the "what-if's"

See you around?






FUCK

Give me a reason to love you

Pros:

-http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=30514553&op=1&o=all&view=all&subj=511795607&aid=329878&auser=751105453&id=1042020196
-the look on his face when he first saw me....I wish I could relive that moment forever. I felt gorgeous.
-the effort he went through to make a good first impression on my father
-his smile......good god his smile
-flirting and laughing and taking stupid pictures with the mask in the limo
-sitting on his lap for a while at the dance
-brushing up against his arm and him not moving away
-"Are you saying my slut factor is inadequate?" "No. I'm saying you have enough self-respect to not flaunt what you have in front of everyone and their mothers."
-that last hug......that merited a closed-eye smile and a sigh


Cons:

-still doubtful
-NOT an enthusiastic conversationist over text at all
-going for the kill is incredibly risky

FUCK

So uncertain

So I'm not quite entirely sure of what to make of last night.
The limo ride was fun. PC was flirting and he had his arm around me.
The look on his face when he first saw me in my dress was priceless. My heart stopped.

We didn't dance. But it was enough just to be there to talk to him. Listen to his laugh. Look at his smile and try not be TOO obvious that I've pretty much fallen head-over-heels.
I sat on his lap for a while. Success.
He couldn't stay over, which made me sad. I ended up pretty much snuggling with Criss Cross for the night. Wish it could have been Him. Although I was pretty gone by that point, and you all know how much I love physical contact when I'm fucked up.

When PC had to leave, I got a fantastic hug.

I can't think straight. More to come.

The sun'll come out...

tomorrow.

I don't know you, but I want you

Except I do know him.

So....I still haven't figured out exactly what happened with the thong in my car. I've been left with the following clues.

1. My car was entirely free of thongs when I first got in it this morning.
2. When we got to school and my brother got out of the passenger seat, there was a thong. On the passenger seat.
3. The thong is not mine, and does not belong to anyone I know.
4. The fucking thing had been well-worn and not washed.
5. My brother offered no comment.

What am I left to assume?

1. (please please please please please dear god let it be this option) Someone somehow managed to sneak a thong into my brother's pocket as a joke.
2. Err....my brother had some fun that I was unaware of and either purposefully or mistakenly kept a trophy...

That begs another question. Or several questions. WHERE, WHEN, AND WITH WHOM?

And please let it be just a bra next time....seriously.

Change

I changed the picture above my blog.

Now everyone knows who I am.
Of course, a limited set of people even know that this blog exists, but still. I am exposed.

There I am, sitting in a romantic tutu looking up at my friend in a particularly calm moment backstage.

I told some of you that there was something I needed to say to you tomorrow. Something I've been hiding. Starting with this picture, I'm going to be honest. From now on.

I'll take that pledge.

It's official

I think way too much about PC

I think about him in class. I think about him when I'm driving home. I think about him before I sleep. I think about him when I wake up and decide what bra to wear. I think about him when he smiles at me. I think about him when I dance. I think about him when I listen to music and somehow every song relates to him.

Is it girlish of me to hope that I occupy at least a little bit of his mind....even just a little bit?

See how they run like pigs from a gun...

Well I bought a dress.
PC asked to see the color :-)
Maybe he'll try to match.

"Limo's are kind of overrated. It would be fun if just the two of us could go up together."
I convinced him to come with us, but I'm liking his thought process.

EVERYONE

I officially own a onesie.
It's magnificent.

Short and Sweet

I've got a huge government test tomorrow that I'm really not looking forward to.
So this is gonna be short.

I'm really really really excited for homecoming.
I'm already imagining what his face will look like when he first sees me in my dress, all dolled up and ready to be gorgeous.
I'm already listening to his laugh in the limo.
I'm already checking pictures on somebody's digital camera.
I'm already catching a few glimpses from him and smiling because we were the only ones who noticed.

And of course the dancing. The dancing, the dancing, the dancing, the dancing.
Never was a greater gift given to a girl than the ability to hint at what she'd be like in bed and not get called a whore.
And the slow songs....everything starts with that first hug, the first notes, the first few breaths taken in sync because you can feel his chest and his heartbeat.

<3 "I could have danced all night..."

And I'm flying so high..

He said yes.



That is all.

I gotta feeling...that tonight's gonna be a GOOD FUCKING NIGHT

Oh. My. God.

He wants to go off campus with me tomorrow. He didn't even ask. He ORDERED. (That's kind of hot...) And he wants to be alone.
He told me that I'd be a hot Elektra.
He laughed at all of my stupid jokes and provided some witty banter in return.
I got smileys and winkie faces.
His brother had a long conversation with me; his brother is such a big part of his life, I can't help but fool myself into thinking that it's a good sign.

My heart is pounding. I'm hyperventilating. I can't smack this fucking grin off of my face. Everything is fantastic.
This is the highest I've ever been in a while.

For the first time I feel...wicked

:-D

This is it.

So tomorrow's the day.

Outfit: Planned (denim mini skirt, lace tights, ankle boots, low cut tank, leather jacket zipped up juuuuuust enough)

Makeup: Thought out (concealer, orgasm blush, gold-rimmed eyes, the blackest and thickest mascara possible, nude lips)

Perfume: My favorite (Lancome Miracle)

Mannerisms: Straightforward and flirty (genuine smiles, laughter, happy eyes)

Statement: Basic ("Hey, do you want to go to homecoming with me?")

Brain at this particular moment: fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

I make sad men HAPPY

-I sat with him at assembly.

-Before assembly, he ran up behind me and started massaging my shoulders.

-During assembly, he put his hand on my thigh and pulled me towards him and told me to sit closer.

-When I said I was feeling like I was gonna pass out (I gave blood and I was kinda wooooooozy) he pulled me closer to him and rested my head into the crook of his neck and said, "Eees okay" in his stupid, funny faux Mexican accent.

-"You can just pass out against me. I can deal."

-I leaned against him for a while and he didn't move away.

-He turned to talk to me and he spoke really quietly so I'd have to lean in closer to hear him.

-He refers to the purple pants Friday as "our thing"

I may not be a man, and I wouldn't say I was sad......but goddamn am I happy.

I'm SO much more confident in asking him to homecoming now.

I gotta feeling...that TONIGHT'S gonna be a good night!

Happy October

I could talk to him no problem when I didn't feel so strongly.

Now it's like I'm crippled.

I hate this.

GG2 keeps telling me that it's as easy or as difficult as I perceive it to be. And that's completely true. But I can't get past the what-ifs. It's scary.

I barely got to say two words to him this week. I've been spending my B blocks working on a Calculus project with Shakira. Total math immersion. That's hardly a good atmosphere for being coy and warmly seductive.

What now?

Jutzpah

"Hey, you wanna go to homecoming with me?"

"You don't have a date? We should go together!"

"You should come to homecoming with me, it'll be fun!"

"I'd offer to ask you to come to homecoming with me, but only if you can deal with my sweet dance skills."

"You should come in our limo. We'll have a contest-if I trip over my heels, I have to jerk as soon as we get out of the car."

So many options.

All of them so simple.

And so fucking scary....

Guys. How do you do it? Where do you find the jutzpah to ask a girl out? If you can't tell me where you get it, can you lend me some?

Seriously. I need suggestions.

Thanks.

EDIT: THIS IS MY 100th POST!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

Question and answer

Am I a bitch?

Some would argue that I am. I relentlessly ripped apart an old friend and took it upon myself to get out of a situation that would hurt me in the end. Finally I got to be the one to do the leaving. Bitchy? Possibly. Probably.

But I've been thinking. I don't care whether I was a bitch or not. Things had to be said. Things had to be done. When I'm so angry about something for so long....it needs to be discussed. And I'm tired of giving mercy where it isn't due. I wasn't very nice. But what other option did I have? Was there even a chance that I'd be able to salvage something? And even if there was...would it be worth it?

I may end up losing someone I considered to be a great friend. But I'm also getting rid of the bullshit that came along with that [toxic] dynamic. And finally, FINALLY it's on my terms instead of his.

I'll be the first to admit that every action I take regarding this circumstance is purely self-serving. I'll also admit that it feels good sometimes. To know that I'm doing everything I can to keep ME safe. To be "coldly analytical."

Oh darling..you're a million ways to be cruel.

<3

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ezy50aY6Bg

Watch the above video. That's pretty much how I feel after we talk. Especially after he hugs me.

He makes me smile.

He makes me laugh.

I always feel like singing after we talk. (Be happy that I don't)

In ballet class, I imagine that he's watching me dance, and I dance better. My instructors noticed; "Lovely grande alegro Kira, you're even smiling!"

He's the reason why I bother with makeup.

I look forward to B block because that's just another chance I get to be with him.

When I wake up thinking "I want to look cute," he's the guy I'm trying to impress.

When he sent me the text saying ":-). You're a lead in the play! I'm happy for you", I nearly went into coniptions.

There are times when he's so legitimately hot...and times when he's ridiculously adorable. I haven't seen many guys who can pull off both, and I love it.

Basically, he makes me very very happy.

:-)

:-D

<3

I could have danced all night

Cast list for Nutcracker went up.

I. Have. Sugar plum.

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY

Sugar plum, Spanish soloist, and Mirliton.

I'm so happy. I can't even....agh. I can't even tell you guys how excited I am for this year.

This wind is blowing my mind

I suppose this is different in a way. For the first time I'm losing a friend on MY terms...ish. And having even that tiny element of control makes this a little easier to swallow.

But the same anger is still there. Not just directed at the person in question. It's a general desperate fury. And even though this situation is different, the question is still the same.

Why? What went wrong?

Part of me is still wondering whether I made the right decision. But I really don't know where else I can go. I don't know what else to do.

All the beautiful sounds of the world in a single word...

About to die of a broken heart, and STILL this ballet has a happy ending

Maria, [he'll] never stop saying Maria.....

Against all of my better judgement, I want that fairy tale ending.

Maybe it's all of the romantic classical ballets that I've been exposed to. I don't know.

But I want that love. It doesn't matter whether you've been transformed into an enchanted swan princess, or whether you get murdered by a jealous rival, or whether you get abducted by pirates and taken into a harem. Everything still ends in a way that's, at worst, bittersweet.

Wouldn't it be great if love really did conquer all?

A shameless plug

HOLY SHIT

CAN IT BE???

I THINK IT CAN
IT'S TRUE!

NEW BALLET COMING UP OH MY GOODNESS

Is it safe?

Yes it's safe.

All of the sensitive contraband is accounted for underneath my mattress. Bebop is a happy happy puppy.

Things are alright.

Some pre-interview reflections:

I'm in the lair of the helicopter parent. The uncomfortably matchy-matchy, fushia lipstick wearing, country club helicopter parent.

The lobby of the Pomona admin office is a scary place. I feel like they all know I'm faking. Even in my knee length dress and grey cardigan. I've even got the fucking headband.

I am a well disguised imposter.

I've been the victim of a selfish kind of love

These two entries were both written whilst sitting in the CMC quad.

1. I'm starting with the man in the mirror.

And no message could have been any clearer.

I can't wait until college. I don't even worry about where I'll end up anymore. I know I'll be somewhere good. I'll be happy.

I just don't want to be here anymore.

I don't think I can start with a clean slate until I physically leave my old slate behind. It doesn't matter what you do or what you say. It can't erase what already happened. You just carve new letters and shapes into an already chiseled stone until you can't tell what's past or present. It's all one convoluted mess of then and now. Sure, things blur together. They become harder and harder to read underneath all of the new inscriptions. But they never disappear. People who were there to watch you first write them will still be able to read what was said years or weeks or minutes ago. And in many ways, that sucks.

It's time we all got away from each other. Start writing on a new slate, with people who don't even know that the old slate exists. Get another chance, experience that great minute during which nobody knows anything about who or what you are.

Anonymity is the greatest freedom.

2. Stand and face the hounds of hell.

People walking by me on the CMC campus probably think I'm taking important notes.

Ha.

I've parked myself on a bench in front of the [Jack] Bauer Center. My id is telling me to wade through the fountain. My better consciousness is prohibiting such horseplay. All for the best, I imagine.

I should carry one of these yellow notepads around with me more often. I could be a rather prolific journalist. I think I'm more productive with just pen and paper. There's something very satisfying about filling a page with ink...it doesn't really translate to a digital word processor. There's a lack of tactility, that grip you have on a pen or the way a paper pad holds firm against the pressure of a ballpoint.

I've even finalized my list of schools. Jesus, where is this productivity coming from?

And now, my thoughts turn to PC. Fantastic.

I'll exercise some restraint when committing my thoughts to written word; this is hardly a public forum to display girlish whims and fantasies. Each girlish whim and fantasy shall here be represented by a single asterisk.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

WHEW. I need a cigarette.

EDIT: Yes...each one of those asterisks represents an individual thought or whim. Me needs a hobby.....

Get back, Loretta

http://www.cracked.com/blog/how-to-throw-an-insane-orgy-using-craigslist/

Please read this. I think I threw up my spine during a particularly intense fit of laughter.

That is all.

'Cause I'm a VOODOO CHILD

Getting high and listening to Hendrix whilst talking to WRA about guys is the best decision I ever made.

I'm a voodoo child, fucker.

Out.

Los hijos de puta

Cada noche, me siento aniquilada. Perdida. Vacía.

Las horas se marchan tan lentamente cuando estoy sola. No hay otra cara para ver, otro cuerpo que me puede tocar, otra voz que me llena las orejas. Y que lentamente, que patéticamente pasan las horas..

Que es un fantasma....

:-)

I feel giddy....oh so giddy...

I feel giddy and dizzy and blithe.

And I prithee, leave me to revel in my delight.

Productive B Block? Absolutely not. Worthwhile B Block? Hell yes.

Kanye is a gay fish

Just saying. What the fuck was he doing?

On a more relevant note........

PC. What to do what to do what to do....

I feel so out of my element. I've never lured a guy before. Those girls who can just put themselves out there and get anyone they want...what's their secret? What perfume do they wear? Is there a secret word that I don't know about, some weird password that will grant me access to his affections?

The human mating ritual is fucking bizarre.

Long time no see

It's been far far far far FAR too long since I did a meaningful post.

So I'm going to make it up to you.

Looking on the bright side of life:

1. JX and I have officially surpassed the awkward stage. We're laughing together, we're talking together, we're smoking together, we remember the same stupid inside jokes that we used to have, and we're generally pretty much the way we were at the beginning of last year. Awesome.

2. Callbacks seemed to go pretty well. I felt better about my audition this time than I usually do, and Feldy kept me around until the last round. I'm going to take that as a blessing.

3. I finally sat down with my parents and had a long talk about the way I feel: how I feel like I can never do enough to satisfy them, how I feel like they never trust me, etc etc. I'm really happy we all sat down to talk about it because I think we all feel a lot better, and things are out in the open.

4. I'm not failing English class. YES.

On the less green side:

1. Didn't speak to either TF or PC today. TF was dancing with a slut on Saturday and PC wasn't even there. Great....

2. I may not be failing English, but I'm definitely failing Calc. That first quiz......I really should have just taken Math Topics.

3. Red-Nosed Reindeer fucking GROPED me on Friday. Every single one of my guy friends and a good number of my girl friends now want to kill him.

4. I can't find my favorite thong. Problem.

Life is average.

Well....

It's a problem.

Why. Why why why why why why why why why and WHY.

Of all the boys. Why this one? Or these two.....fuck.

Although this could be the start of a good trend. For once, I'm liking nice guys.

Short post. I'm exhausted because I just fucked three coed's for $60 worth of crack.

You were just a paper book

Wow..it's been a week since I last posted.

Insanity.

I need to start writing college essays. I'm writing one of the supplement essays about my brother. Hopefully I don't embarrass that kid too much.

I've woken up pretty fucking early these past few days. Weird.

Tear you apart

So apparently our group is doing a bondage themed photoshoot for our English project.

Time to go buy a few hundred yards of electrical tape and cord.

I've moved into competitive hyperdrive.

There's a role that I want. That I really really want. That I'm fighting against some bad odds to get.

But I'm going to read and reread that play hundreds of times. I'll read every single commentative essay I can get my hands on. I'll read every footnote, research every outside reference.

And then I'll do my audition and I'll pray.

I wish I could have the common sense and wisdom to say that I'm not going to get my hopes up, but I can't really help myself when I work this hard for something. Although it is foolish...

The reassurance I've gotten when I ask for an honest answer regarding this issue has overwhelmingly been, "I don't know...I guess you have a decent shot. It's not like you're a BAD actress or anything." The nicest possible way to say, "Sorry sweetie...you're just kind of a mediocre performer. The sooner you figure that out, the less painful this will be for everyone."

Some people are just talented. They don't have to work, they don't have to struggle to earn their recognition.

Lucky bastards.

A basterd's work is never done

I have so much newfound respect for BJ Novak. No longer is he merely Ryan the Temp.

He's a basterd. YES.

I think my life is beginning to return to normalcy.

1. JX is speaking to me, and even laughing with me. Yeah, it's a bit fishy in the way that he just suddenly SWITCHED from being a total jerk-off to being a decent friend, but I'll take what I can get.

2. I'm doing crazy shit with GG2 on the weekends with absolutely no other intention than to be stupid.

3. I'm getting to know all of my teachers with reasonable sincerity.

4. I no longer get to take the weekends for granted, as the days of the week have now been filled with actual shit to do.

"It's getting better all the tiiiiime.."

Song of the Moment

She loves her Mama's lemonade,

Hates the sound that goodbyes make.

She prays one day she'll find someone to need her.

She swears that there's no difference

Between the lies and compliments.

It's all the same if everybody leaves her.

And every magazine tells her she's not good enough

The pictures that she's seen make her cry.

And she would change everything, everything...just ask her.

Caught in the in-between, a beautiful disaster.

And she just needs someone to take her home.

She's giving boys what they want.

Tries to act so nonchalant.

Afraid they'll see that she's lost her direction.

She never stays the same for long,

Assuming that she'll get it wrong.

Perfect only in her imperfections.

She's not a drama queen...she doesn't want to feel this way.

Only seventeen, but tired..

And she would change everything for happy ever after.

Caught in the in-between, a beautiful disaster.

But she just needs someone to take her home.

'Cause she's just the way she is, but no one's told her that's okay.

And she would change everything, everything....just ask her.

Caught in the in-between, a beautiful disaster.

And she would change everything for happy ever after.

Caught in the in-between, a beautiful disaster.

But she just needs someone to take her home.

And she just needs someone to take her home...

Family Ties

Here's the recent update.

My cousin Paige has still not been found. She's been missing since '08. Last she was seen in Florida, forced into prostitution and drug rings. That sighting was a few months ago. Who knows if she's even still alive?

Her younger sister Emily is still in juvie. Last suicide attempt was this past March

Their parents are getting divorced. The kids are all being split up, and its looking like my uncle might fall back into some really fucking dangerous stuff ie: meth.

My cousin Eli was beaten to a pulp by some fucking bastard who dragged him into a bathroom and fucked him up to "teach him a lesson" after he came out as being bi.

I would write more, but I don't think I can describe how I feel. Sorry.

White bandages

So I'm going to be on head injury lookout for the next week.

For those of you who haven't heard the story, I passed out in ballet. Blacked out completely. I hit my head on the floor pretty hard.

So far, everything is alright. But symptoms of a serious condition can show up later, so I'm gonna be on high alert.

Sigh...

There are so many things I want to say.

Right on time

Registration for our next, and FINAL year at LJCDS was this morning.

Is it really really strange that I'm almost excited for this semester to start?

I feel like it's the first year that I've really settled into myself. I can feel it in the way I walk, the way I stand. A lot of shit happened to all of us last year...a LOT of shit. But I predict that we're going to get to reap the benefits of those learning processes this year.

Just in time, right?

Things I Would Like To Do

-eat chocolate mousse cake

-scratch Bebop's ears

-fuck Jack Bauer

-fuck Robert Downey Jr.

-fuck Gerard Butler

-fuck Dr. Gregory House

-fuck Cedric Diggory

-fuck Elisha Cuthbert

-get my hair cut

-throw Bebop's red ball

-flirt with my brother's friends and make them nervous

-listen to "Dear Prudence" over and over again

-have a threesome with the Deschansel sisters

-smoke up

-drink the rest of the plum sake

-go to the beach/downtown/shopping/movies/??? with BB McGee, GG2, and GG3

-nerd out with the three people mentioned + the guys

-start dancing again

-play with fire

-swim at midnight

I want French dessert.

1. Buy an eclair.

2. Put eclair in blender.

3. Press 'Liquify'.

4. Buy hypodermic needle and syringe.

5. Suck up as much eclair goop as possible into syringe.

6. INJECT IT INTO MY VEINS.

Details

So I have been pressed.

And I did promise....

His dialog will be in italics.

So I snuck out of my room at around 11:something last night. I was itching to get out and walk around. Get a chance to see things when not many people are around and clear out my head.

I went to Fletcher Cove, which is where I always go when I feel like I need to think. I don't know exactly for how long I sat on the beach watching the water. It was nice. I didn't feel any need to rush myself.

At some point, I stood up and decided that it was time for me to go home. I always pay special attention to where I step when I walk up the ramp from the beach; when it gets dark, the uneven surface can become dangerous.

This time was no different. I paid special attention. SO much attention, I didn't see him sitting in the park until I got closer, looked up, and had the living shit scared out of me by a weird figure that I didn't notice before. Embarrassingly enough, I let out a pretty loud gasp, and MORE embarrassingly enough, I lost my footing and I tripped over the curb.

He stood up when he saw/heard me fall, and being a gentleman, he offered his hand to help me back up. "Sorry, did I scare you?" Before I could get a good look at him, I could tell that he was relatively young from his voice. 20's at the oldest.

"No..I mean yeah, but it's no problem. I'm sort of used to being the only one here." There wasn't much light, but what I saw confirmed that he was probably in his late teens. He wasn't staggeringly good looking, but he was better than average (no 'and then I fell in luuuuv' bullshit here). Darkish hair and a reasonably nice build. I DID notice, however, that he had particularly nice arms.

"Ah..come here often?" We both smiled at the obvious play on a cheesy standby pickup line. "Anyway, sorry I startled you. I didn't know anyone else was here either."

"Yeah...midnight isn't the peak beach hour."

"You might know. How often do you walk down here like this?"

This question took me aback a little. Divulging personal motive isn't something I do a lot. But there were three or four people standing at the lookout point less than 50 feet away, at least one of them a relatively large man whom I could ask for help if need be. So I took the jump.

"I don't know...maybe a few times a month. Less....more...I'm not sure."

"Doing what?"

"I don't know. Thinking. Daydreaming."

He turned to look out towards the ocean. "Well, if you're gonna come anywhere late at night...this seems like the place. I grew up near the ocean and I still can't believe how beautiful it is."

"Yeah...it's the only place I can really forget things. Let the world go."

"Natural high, right?"

".....yeah. Yeah, that's exactly it."

There was a nice pause here...I thought it would be awkward. But it wasn't.

He was the first one to break the silence. "You ever bring your friends, boyfriend down here with you?"

"Nah..usually just me. There have been a few late night beach hangouts with a good friend of mine (hahaha GG2), but other than that, no."

"Boyfriend doesn't like the beach?" He was saying it pretty lightheartedly, so I was equally lighthearted in my response. No need to be a downer.

"Good guess haha. No, boyfriend doesn't exist."

"Really? Wow, I guess I don't have to feel guilty about this conversation after all."

I didn't know what to say, so I just kind of laughed nervously and looked at the moon. YOU NAILED IT KIRA.....errgh.

"Nah, there are plenty of cool girls who are single...guys are way too chicken to make a move on anyone standing at the top of the ladder. Seriously, if there's any advice I can give to a girl, it's that guys are fucking terrified. Especially of pretty girls."

"So I keep hearing."

"They're telling the truth."

There was another pause.

"So...I should probably be getting home. I was out for longer than usual...can never really be too careful."

"Otherwise you turn into a pumpkin? Yeah..I know how that goes." He smiled and extended his hand. "I'll let you get home." We shook hands and then he pointed to my shoulder. "You've got a bit of grass on you. From the fall."

"Oh my god...great.." I brushed as much of it off as I could, and then he laughed a little. "Don't worry, it doesn't detract." Another pause.

"Well I'm glad I met you."

"Yeah...me too."

"I'm [name has been changed] Rob."

"Kira."

And I went home. No exchange of numbers, no stupid insinuations that we should hook up, nothing but a nice conversation with someone who was at the Cove for the same reasons I was.

I'm probably never ever ever going to see him again. But I'm okay with that.

And that's the story.

Ghosts

So I saw the old theater haunts recently.

My freshman self would be freaking the fuck out right about now. Not only did I hang out with them, but I CONVERSED with them and IMBIBED with them too?!?!!

It was nice. Not because I used to be severely infatuated with two of the young men in question. That's firmly in the past. But it was nice to show them that I was different from the girl they used to know. That I was stronger than the girl they left. That they didn't intimidate me anymore.

That I was a formidable opponent.

Plus, free shit. :-D

They asked me for my side of the story regarding JX (I'm going to use GG2's nickname for him now). I like to think I took the high road. They say they got his version already, but that they wouldn't tell me what he said....I doubt it's very flattering...

My words to them exactly, after being asked if he had cheated or something: "No haha, it was nothing like that...he's a good guy, he really is. We were just looking for different things. Had different ideas and ambitions regarding each other and ourselves. It just wasn't the match that he wanted. I haven't spoken to him recently because I don't really want to push matters right now. He's said that he needs some time away from me, so I'm going to respect that. But who knows? Maybe, hopefully, this year we can both bury the past and enjoy the friendship that we used to have."

They said they wouldn't tell him what I said. I don't really care either way.

I will say this. It's surprisingly satisfying to be kind...

Darkness falls across the land..

I LOVE VINCENT PRICE!!

My ballet intensive starts August 10. I can't describe how excited I am to get back into taking classes every day with my favorite Latvian.

Today is a do-nothing day. It's cloudy and I don't really want to do much other than listen to music and look at old pictures.

I'm a cool kid, eh?

I dreamed a dream

For the past six days, I've had the exact same dream. Every night. It's gotten to the point where it no longer scares me because it's just another part of the routine.

I wrote it down this morning. After almost a week, I've pretty much memorized every nuance, but I still wrote it all down after I woke up. Just to make sure I didn't miss anything.

I am sitting on the floor of my mom's office upstairs. My brother walks upstairs to tell me that my parents want me to come downstairs. I stand up and walk in a pattern of triplets, alternating the accent of each triplet between my right and my left leg. I walk downstairs where I see my mom, my dad, and two men in matching brown coats all standing in a close circle, facing inward.

One of the men is my father's height, about 6' 1", and he has short blonde hair. He has a lean, muscular build and his arms seem strikingly long. At this point, I can't see his face, but I know that he has big gray eyes, a turned down nose, and very thin lips. The other man has wavy auburn hair and is about my mother's height, 5' 7". He is less muscular than the other man, and his legs seem slightly bowed. He is stockier and looks less agile. His build is softer. I know that he has light eyes and a splay of freckles only on his left cheek.

I say, "Who are these people?" and my father replies that they're here to take me to a safe place. Kai walks out of the kitchen towards us and sings, "I get Kira's room" to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star".

My parents and the men come out of the circle. My parents stand together as the men walk towards me. The blonde one is holding a black bag. He says, "Hi Kira" and the man with auburn hair takes the bag from him and puts it over my head. There is one hole cut out by my left eye. The blonde man tapes the opening of the bag around my neck with duct tape. I begin to scream, and my mother walks towards us, takes the roll of duct tape, and tapes around the bag over my mouth so that I will stop screaming.

The two men each take a large knife and they each cut off one of my feet at the ankle bone. The auburn-haired man tells my parents this is so that I don't run away. After he is done cutting, he picks up one of my feet and asks my mom if she would like to keep it. She declines.

The men pull my arms towards them and place my hands inside a strange machine. The machine instant-freezes them solid so that my hands can be snapped off, almost like breaking a pencil.

My brother comes downstairs and starts screaming at the men to let me go. He rushes towards the blonde man, but my parents hold him back.

The two men pick me up by my arms and they drag me out of the house to a strange vehicle that I still can't identify. My family follows us outside. My brother is sobbing hysterically and pounding his fists on my father's back. My dad is smoking a cigarette, which is strange because he has never smoked in his life. My mom is pouring cups of water over the doorstep where my blood has spilled over. Kai is singing her song again.

Thoughts?

How do you know?

When those songs that used to make you cry now make you smile because you think about him.
When you can't wait to see that person again, even if it means leaving Hawaii.
When you think "This would be so much fun if he were here.."
When you you fall asleep and dream about him just talking to you and saying everything you want to hear.
When you watch and recount everything you say, just to make sure you don't say anything that would be even potentially stupid.
When any new text is cause for excitement.

That's how.

By the way

This is post # 69.

TEEHEE

I have something I wanna tell you

Sigh.

There are some things that literally will not leave your mouth. The words simply don't form.
Like grains of sand, they sit in your throat, irritating and painful, and they are rendered useless.

Oyster, make me a pearl.

Some data.

Total number of bruises and cuts on my left leg: 10

Total number of bruises and cuts on my right leg: 4

Total number of injuries I actually remember happening: 3

This adds up in how many ways?: 0

Am I sleepwalking into thornbush patches every night?

That was a bad call

What kind of loser gets drunk by herself at 11:00 pm on a Wednesday?

Ahem....

My dad would say that it's self-medication because it wasn't a social drinking scene. I can't really remember what I was thinking or feeling before I opened the first bottle, so I can't comment now.

I always expect to feel better when I drink. Every time. And every time, I just end up feeling like I'm covered in muck.

I think that's a sign of idiocy or insanity. Doing the same thing over and over while still expecting different results.

Maybe I'll remember later. I don't think I did anything particularly stupid....

I agree

GG2, it does feel good, doesn't it? To get back into those first phases of a new infatuation...

I don't know if there's an emotion that's more difficult to deal with than the fallout that inevitably occurs after a broken heart. Everything reminds you of what went right...what went wrong. You begin to wonder what you could have changed. How much was really your fault. A certain song comes on the radio and you switch the station before you start to cry in the middle of early evening traffic. You laugh and try your best to convince people that any discomfort you feel at this point is merely frustration and a patronizing amusement. You tell everyone around you that you're okay. You hold your tongue and pray that whatever it is that you feel...you pray that it will go away soon. You don't just remember how much he hurt you...you remember everything that made you so happy in the moment and you throw your hands up and wonder what the fuck you did to make him throw that all away.

"How did he forget me so quickly? Why is he doing just fine and I'm still such a mess? And for gods sake, for the mother of everything that is good and holy, what can I do to make this stop? When will I be whole again?"

I don't know exactly what that emotion is. But it hurts. It hurts a whole fucking lot.

And then...there comes a point when those songs don't remind you of him anymore. You keep listening because for the first time, you think about somebody else, and for the first time in months, you can listen with a smile on your face. And it's absolutely wonderful.

I've said this before, but now, I think it's the first time I can really mean it.

I'm free.

To the person who is helping me back onto my feet without really realizing it....thank you. Whatever happens, whatever comes of this, you've already done and given me everything I need.

On a bitchier note, the Honor Roll came in today. The lists for Honors and High Honors are out. Guess who's not on either one...?

HAHA.

Everything is beautiful at the ballet.

"A Chorus Line" was pretty cheesy.

I'm in the Sheraton New York hotel lobby because that's where I can get free Wi-Fi. It's also ripe with some excellent people-watching.

I recently went through and read all of my old posts on this blog. Some of them were happy. Many of them were sad. All of them were true.

It seems like I'm a better writer when I'm upset or angry. Everything that I've written in a state of anguish or hysteria has been painfully honest and real-two attributes that I greatly admire in the world's best writers.

Do you have to be tortured to be a genius?

I don't consider myself particularly articulate or intelligent-just someone able to describe the truth. My ability to impress people lies solely in the intrigue that the truth holds. People don't want to hear about satisfaction. Human beings are fascinated with pain, obsessed with it. Obsessed with seeing how much of it we can take. How much of it we can inflict. And most pertinently to this discussion, how well we can envision and imagine it without having to experience it for ourselves.

Why do you think the gorenography genre has exploded? We don't care about getting scared, because these movies don't scare us. There is no inherent psychological presence in these films. And yet, we watch them under the guise of watching horror movies because pain captivates us. There is so much of it to see, to hear. So many different ways to inflict it. The questions we all ask ourselves are "How far is it going to go? How many more needles can she possibly drive underneath his fingernails before he passes out from the pain? How much longer until the flames reach his flesh? When is it going to end?" Not because we want to see the end...because we want to keep watching. There is no pity here. Only fascination and an oft unexpressed desire, a NEED to witness more. Pain is the cause and effect of so many things. There are very few things that are universal.

Pain is one of them. Everyone understands the language of tears and anguished screams.

Yet so few of us are willing to admit this fascination. Really. I can't be the only one with a little bloodlust of her own.

So now the question is how much pain do we need to endure in order to become the geniuses that we all want to be? More importantly, how much pain are we WILLING to endure?

not anymore.

Something always brings me back to you.

It never takes too long.

No matter what I say or do,

I'll still feel you here

'til the moment I'm gone.

You hold me without touch.

You keep me without chains.

I never wanted anything so much

Than to drown in your love

And not feel your rain.

Set me free....leave me be.

I don't want to fall another moment

Into your gravity.

Here I am, and I stand so tall,

Just the way I'm supposed to be.

But you're on to me and all over me.

You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.

When I thought that I was strong.

But you touch me for a little while

And all my fragile strength is gone.

Set me free.....leave me be.

I don't want to fall another moment

Into your gravity.

Here I am, and I stand so tall,

Just the way I'm supposed to be.

But you're on to me and all over me.

I live here on my knees

As I try to make you see that

You're everything I think I need

Here on the ground.

But you're neither friend nor foe

Though I can't seem to let you go.

The one thing that I still know is that

You're keeping me down.

Not anymore.

Stem Cell

I always thought that I wanted to live in New York City.

I'm not so sure.

Granted, it's got a great energy. I love walking around in the late evening, being a part of the never-ending wave that just seems to surge through the city.

At the same time, this chaos, this buzz...it can make things seem awfully impersonal.

There's no lasting individual impression. For better or worse, you're just another cog in the wheel, ready to keep churning along with everyone else.

Computer science

I am a Mac computer. I was drained of most of my battery due to being dropped on the pavement, so I went into charge-saving mode. The "sleep" mode, if you will.

I've got a little more power now, so I can display a screensaver. Not completely functioning, but showing promise.

I think I might be able to restore to a full desktop soon.

Let's all get a little high

I finally found the correct analogy to describe how great ballet makes me feel.

It's like having an orgasm for an hour and a half straight. (TEEHEE)

I'm dead serious.

I'm not even shitting you right now, I feel a mother fucking AFTERGLOW after a good class. And everything, every bone, every muscle, every blood cell in my body aches, but I feel such an intense physical euphoria that makes up for and encapsulates all of that pain simultaneously. And joy...I feel joy. An emotion that doesn't come naturally. After the class is over, I drive home with a really doofy little smirk because the smile just comes naturally and everything seems so..beautiful.

Fuck weed. This is the highest I've ever been. Ballet isn't an anti-drug.

It's heroin set to music.

I don't know you, but I want you

A few weeks ago I visited the elderly care center that my grandmother on my mom's side lived at before she passed away.

The staff remembered me, asked me how I'd been.

Even some of the patients remembered who I was...the younger ones.

I was picking up a few pictures and things that we had accidentally left behind in her old room.

And the man who my grandma had sort of fallen in infatuation with remembered me

My grandma told us that he was a pilot

I asked him about his flying experience.

He was never a pilot

He spent his life as a salesman for his family business

But one day he painted a simple picture of him and my grandma flying in a plane together.

During a crafts period.

It was on her wall in her old room.

And so she remembered him as a pilot. Her pilot

Me vs. You

Me, starving wolverine....you, baby covered in porkchops.

Me, pigeon with explosive diarrhea...you, statue under me and my friends.

Me, Mexican sprinting champion with cousin in North Texas that has job opportunity for me...you, border.

Me vs. you......

Still watching Important Things. Demetri Martin is maybe one of my new crushes. He's so awkwardly endearing! TEEHEE

I finally got to hang out with some of the guys yesterday (see communal blog). It was the first time since the breakup. And it wasn't awkward at all. I held my own. It felt alright.

Things are looking up. I'm still friends with them...maybe with some time, I'll be friends with Towlie.

This is no longer a game of me vs. you. Me vs. them. Us vs. you. Us vs. them. Or whatever it was.

Happy Birthday, America

We celebrate by buying illegal fireworks and drunkenly singing Lyle Lovett songs (or maybe that was just my father).

So I was dreading tonight. But it wasn't too bad. It was actually kind of fun. The girl I mentioned earlier is pretty cool. I misjudged and I judged too soon.

I'm moderating some drunken revelry going on in my kitchen right now....neither of my parents have filters or inhibitions when they're drunk.

Now put that thing back where it came from, or so help me!

That's what she said.

LOVE Monsters Inc. I forgot how awesome that movie was.

"SHE'S OUT OF OUR HAAAAAAIIIRR"

Teehee.

There's literally nothing else to talk about.....gah.

There will be after tonight. Miss Weirdoreligilous will be fun.

Chop chop

My hair is at my chin.

It's boingy and bouncy. Boincy, as I said earlier today.

Right now, it's in two teeny leetle pigtails.

I love it.

It's exactly what I needed.

I'm actually looking forward to going out, getting out of my cave here in this house. Because I just feel better. About the way I look, about the people around me, about next year....about mostly everything.

We'll see how long this lasts.

Ride the wave....

I'm a cat...I'm a kitty cat. And I DANCE DANCE DANCE

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=275428&id=511795607&l=c8f3b2cb96

Bayadere pictures are up. Check them out. Leave funny comments. Tag random objects.

Whatever.

Last, but not least:

R.I.P. Michael Jackson. You've changed the face of dance and music culture. People can say what they want....but you were one talented motherfucker.

And the legend will live on...

<3

I will be the same funky little ball o' quirk when you get back.

We'll get slurpies and we'll go swimming in frigid water for absolutely no good reason.

We'll play way too much Rock Band and Super Smash Bros for our own goods.

We'll go Mrs. Robinson on OFF :-)

Granted, I'll have shorter hair. But the only major change will be less dead cells hanging from my skull in a wave-like fashion.

Now let's MILK THE FUNK!

A New Start

So I'm cutting my hair.

On the surface, it's mundane. It's just a change in appearance. Something stupid to occupy my time.

But I need to change something. I need to get rid of something that ties me to this past year.

Cutting off my long hair that I've had for years will be like breathing fresh open air after years of sucking up oxygen through a straw. It'll cut off something that reminds me of everything that's happened.

It's going to be a new year. Why not face it in a completely new way?

I'll look different. I'll feel different. I'll surprise people.

And Towlie (he now has a new nickname) once said that he liked my hair long (then again, we can't be sure of his sincerity). All the more reason to get rid of it.

Yippee kay yay, mother fucker.

Keep your enemies closer...

Yes.

I spent the day with her.

Maybe I just need to ease back into things. Learn to tune out all of the "I'll always be smarter and prettier and more popular than you" bullshit. Because despite everything, I had a decent time.

I'm still looking forward to spending some real time with the people I really love.

-Hopefully, seeing Transformers tomorrow (maybe enjoying some marshmallows?) with Cylon, Gingerbread, and Wrestlemania

-Going to KL and seeing GG2!!!

-Going to the fair with Cylon, PN Lite, BB McGee, and whoever else

EDC

My mother is being really frustrating.

On top of that, I am COMPLETELY broke. I can't really spend any money on anything at this point.

Fuck.

Bayadere

1. I am so proud of everyone who danced today. We've all spent a lot of time on this production, and that definitely showed. You were all absolutely gorgeous. It was such a pleasure watching you from the wings, and I hope you could all hear me screaming and applauding from backstage.

2. Mealzie, this was your last performance with our studio, and seeing you dance today just made us all realize how much we're going to miss you. You're a bright, incredibly talented girl, and you deserve every bit of success that you'll inevitably see in the future. Come back and visit us! Seriously....I will drag you down from Berkeley if I have to.

3. To everyone who came to see me dance, and to everyone who will endure watching parts of the DVD, thank you. It means so much to me that you're willing to take the time to watch me do what I love more than anything.

This is a bit of a bittersweet night. These performances were everything I could have hoped for, and I got to share that with some of the most incredible people in the world...but I'm already feeling the post-performance blues and nostalgia.

Sigh.

.........

So, I'm having a rather lovely talk with my cousin, Cthulhu.

That's not his real name.

Apparently, his year hasn't been so fantastic either.  Actually, it sounds like it's been pretty fucking fucked up.

1.  He came out as being bisexual to a few of his close friends.  Unfortunately, one of those close friends decided to completely fuck his shit up and he proceeded to tell the entire baseball team, and the news spread like wildfire from there.  His staunchly Republican parents force him to go to a severely Fundamentalist Christian preparatory school.  You can imagine how his teachers and fellow classmates took that declaration.

2.  Throughout the summer and for the first few months of the school year (partly due to the treatment he received upon coming out as bi), he was dealing with an addiction to prescription pain medication and alcohol.  However, he is clean now (as of 04/28/09) and things are looking up in that regard.

3.  Our cousin and his best friend in Arizona, Pager, is still missing.  Her parents have made no further efforts to find her.  They just fucking GAVE UP because they don't want to deal with helping her get past addiction and bipolar disorder.  Cthulhu and I talk a lot, of course, but she lived in AZ, just an hour away from him.  She was readily there for him.  And now she's not.  And nobody is doing anything to get her back.

Hang in there.  You're a strong person.  You always have been.  Your wit and your resilience have always impressed me, and I will always admire you.  

And even if you stumble, I'll be right behind you to catch you, let you breathe, and push you back up again.

Hey...you look mighty cute.

In that Starfleet-issued First Officer uniform.

Seriously.  Since when do the words "Wow...Spock looks like he'd be a really good kisser" pass through my lips?

Thank you, J. J. Abrams/Zachary Quinto.  I'm now in love with a Vulcan.

As you have probably inferred, I just came home from a 7:45 screening of "Star Trek" after being completely shut down from seeing "The Hangover."  In retrospect, that was probably a beneficial twist of fate, as I am near certain that "Star Trek" was more entertaining and more engaging to me than "The Hangover" would have been.

The job hunt continues to be unsuccessful.  However, I am not discouraged.  Ballet is going well and my grades just came in; although I am not overjoyed in any respect, they are decent enough for me to justify feeling unstressed at this particular time.  

Good gentlefolk, life is looking to be alright.

Live long and prosper!

The Chronicles of the Young and Unemployed

1.  I wake up with the voices in my head continuing the chant from the previous night..."yoooooouuu neeeeed tooooo get a joooooobbbbb."  After I go through my daily Interwebs routine (check Facebook, check cracked.com, check questionablecontent.net, check fmylife.com, check textsfromlastnight.com, check the various blogs that I keep up with, check my email), I go to the UTC website and I call the stores that I'm interested in working at.  I glean enough information to decide that I will submit applications to Bath and Body Works, Pac Sun, and Sun Diego.

2.  I go to UTC, armed with resumes, work permit applications, and reference sheets.

3.  I hand in the Bath and Body Works app to the co-manager.  She seems to like me.  Will find out more tomorrow, possibly.

4.  I go to Sun Diego and fill out an app.  It is thoroughly unimpressive due to my complete lack of previous work experience.  But I fill it out anyway.  Probably nothing going to happen in that arena.

5.  I go to Pac Sun.  The woman basically throws an app at my face and turns away without saying word one to me.  When I hand it in, she glances over it, laughs a little, looks up at me, smirks, and turns away without saying word two.  I promptly leave.

6.  Disheartened, I go to Starbucks and do something that I haven't done in almost two years.  I buy myself a Java Chip frappachino and I enjoy it very much.  I am substantially less disheartened.

7.  I go to Bookstar.  I buy $100 worth of books because I feel like it, and because their Stephen King section is truly impressive (not anymore, now that I've bought everything)  Hoorays.

8.  I go home.  I see an ad on craigslist that gives me the idea to submit an app to Coffee Bean.

The application is basically a complete psychological test and criminal background check.  "Many people do things that make me very angry.  Agree or Disagree?   Most people cannot be trusted.  Agree or Disagree?   I have forcibly injured someone during a previous job position.  True or False?"   The Coffee Bean may be

taking itself a little bit too seriously.  But at least I know I wouldn't be working with weirdos.

Tomorrow, I will do the Encinitas circuit.  I'll have more updates then.