TheWickedTruth

Stupidly (Not What You Think)

2005-08-09T03:31:00.000-04:00

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."
- Neil Gaiman

Misconstrued

2005-08-06T03:52:00.000-04:00

So, Tuesday I went camping. Yes, I went camping. The city girl went camping.

It all started about a week ago as an idea that I really didn’t expect anyone to follow through to completion. I simply blurted it out one day while musing aloud at work with some of my friends (a.k.a. the Cool Club). Somehow, the idea stuck, and to my surprise, we all managed to make it happen.

Soon enough Tuesday rolled around and the four of us (Ally, Nikki, Thomas, and I) left town at noon, riding in two separate cars. Ally with Nikki in her Jeep and I rode with Thomas in his Buick. The day was blisteringly hot, and increasingly humid; I found myself thankful for the Buick’s air conditioning. Before leaving civilization completely, we all decided to stop at a grocery store in Negaunee to pick up some food and drinks.

“Hey, Carissa,” Nikki said grinning at me as she slammed the door to her Jeep.

“What is it?” I asked walking across the parking lot.

“Ally and I were just talking about you and Tom in the car and-“She broke off into laughter.

I came to a stop in front of her. “What are you talking about?” I asked again warily.

“We were just saying that we couldn’t see your head in the car…”

I could feel myself frown as I realized the direction this was going in, but before I could open my mouth to cut off Nikki’s next comment, Ally came up alongside her.

“Yeah, Clariss,” Ally snickered. “We could just hear you in the car saying: ‘Oooohhhh Tom, you’re SO tall!’” They all broke down into peals of laughter, including Tom who had been steadily walking up behind me.

If I had had the proper skin color required to blush, I would have. As it was, my cheeks began to burn rather hot. I secretly thanked my father’s African heritage as I turned away from their laughter and began to walk rapidly towards the entrance of the grocery store. “Fuck you guys. I wasn’t doing anything like-“ I was forced to stop as this only made them laugh harder.

“I was sitting by the window,” I stammered lamely, trying to explain myself, but it didn’t matter. They weren’t listening. I made a derisive sound in the back of my throat and stomped into the grocery store, remembering how the whole “tall” mess started.

On Monday nights at the Villa, I normally manage the kitchen. Ally and Thomas were among my crew this past Monday, and after a highly obnoxious marker war, Thomas and I were having a discussion about height in the middle of the kitchen.

“You’re always whining about how you’re not very tall, Carissa”

“That’s because I’m not very tall!” I exclaimed. “I’m only five feet tall.”

“Well, I was never very tall when I was younger,” Tom said, moving up alongside the silver counter that separated us. “But now I seem to be growing a little bit.”

Late bloomer, I though eyeing Thomas’s skinny form.

“I have a six foot arm span though.” He said matter-of-factly, spreading his arms wide.

I shrugged. “Well Thomas,” I said. “Maybe you just got your height in the wrong place.”

I heard the sounds of muffled laughter off to my left. Ally was giggling over by the cash register with one hand partially covering her mouth.

“WHAT did you just say?” She asked, eyes gleaming mischievously.

“Thomas was talking about how his-“ I started, only to get cut off by more laughter from Ally. At that moment, Melanie (one of the waitresses) came rushing into the kitchen with a whoosh of the swinging wooden doors.

“Did you just say that Thomas has a BIG WEINER?????” She shrieked. Everyone in the kitchen burst out laughing.

“What? No! That’s not what I said!” I turned to Ally. “You fucking Sicko, I did not say that.”

“Hey,” Ally said, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her manicured nails. “All I heard was ‘Well Thomas, maybe you just got your height in the wrong place’ what would you think?”

“I wouldn’t know what you were talking about, but I wouldn’t think that.” I snapped indignantly to increasing laughter. “You shut your dirty mouths, all of you.”

I tried to keep the quaver out of my voice. This wasn’t funny. It wasn’t. I would not laugh.
“Oh, come on Clariss, if you heard me say that to a guy, you’d be thinking the same thing” Ally persisted.

“Fuck you, I would not.” I denied half laughing. Shit. “My thoughts don’t immediately go to sex like some people.”

“Ohhh, Clariss….” Ally trailed off, giggling once again.

I turned to Tom. “I’m never going to live this one down, am I?”

Tom shook his head and smiled enigmatically.

“No, I don’t think so.”

And I didn’t. All night long-hell all week long, Thomas and I couldn’t stand next to each other without having to endure several comments about his height.

Walking rapidly through the grocery store behind Ally, Nikki, and Thomas, I realized to my utter chagrin that not once had Thomas objected to any of the “tall” comments. He probably didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. Sure. I suppose, I thought wryly to myself while contemplating a box of fudge brownies, that if there were a bunch of girls running around implying that I had a big penis, I probably wouldn’t say anything either.
“Smart man.” I said to myself.

“What?” Nikki asked, turning around.

This time it was my turn to smile enigmatically.

“Nothing…”

To Be Continued…

I Could Tell.....

2005-07-31T04:14:00.000-04:00

I could tell from the minute I woke up
It was going to be a lonely lonelyLonely lonely day.
Rise and shine rub the sleep out of my eyes
And try to tell myself I can’t
Go back to bed
It’s gonna be a lonely lonely lonely lonely day
Even though the sun is shining down on me and I should feel about as happy as can be
I just got here and I already want to leave
It’s gonna be a lonely lonely lonely lonely day
Everybody knows that something’s wrong
But nobody knows what’s going on
We all sing the same old song
When you want it all to go away
It’s shaping up to be a lonely day
I could tell from the minute I woke up it was going to be a lonely lonely lonely lonely day.

-Phantom Planet

And Today's Top Ten Reason Why You Should Date My Friend Thomas...

2005-07-30T03:52:00.000-04:00

Number 10: The boy knows how to give a compliment.

Observe:

Carissa: Lol. Ohhhhhhh Im old what can I say Thomas.
Thomas: No, no Carissa, theres a difference between age and maturity. Some people are just more mature than others. Doesn't make you older.

And that LADIES, is what you call a compliment.

Like Hitting A Brick Wall

2005-07-30T03:38:00.000-04:00

Hey all, it's been about a month. Sorry it took so long. Life has a way of getting in the way of actually living. Im sitting here in my papasan chair, it's the wee hours of the morning. These last few weeks have been rather long-what with making new friends, various misunderstandings on and off the job, and a rather long, drawn out blowout between a few friends and co-workers at the house on Lincoln street...I find myself emotionally exhausted to the point of being physically sick.

Sadly enough, it was during a regretfully declined, but keenly observed game of "Mad Gab", that I came to realize just how weary I really am. The object of the game is to take a series of words that have no conventional meaning on their own in a sentence, but verbally run them together, and viola!-they have a hidden meaning, a key phrase that must be sounded out. Clever, right? The game, however, failed to draw my fascination. At the most inconvienient times, I tend to be a literally minded person, and at such times, "Nonsense simply makes no sense." Tonight, I simply lacked the imagination required to play such a game, so I chose not to participate, much to the disappointent of my four friends.

"I'll just bake the cookies." I said, getting up from the floor after passing one round of the game. "Besides, I wouldn't be any good at it anyways...." I finished by stating my "nonsense makes no sense" theory.

"Oh come on, Carissa" one of my male companions teased. "So, basically you're saying you're TOO smart to play." I burst into laughter like everyone else, then feigned hurt, saying now I really wasn't going to play after that.

"Im just going to bake the cookies" I sniffed, placing the cookie sheet into the oven, ignoring their pleading exclamations.

"I could really say something to that, but I'm not going to." My male friend piped up again.

"DON'T-even go there." I chuckled warningly, knowing full well what he was referring to. "Mrs. Beauchamp makes cookies too." I retorted to more laughter.

There was an ongoing joke among many of my friends, that, being the eldest and the most accountable-I had somehow been labeled as the "MoM" of the group. A good friend calls me mom jokingly off and on because I reprimand her constantly. Then a younger acquaintance/co-worker told me that I reminded him of his friend's mother. I myself, constantly lament that I am going to end up like Mrs. Robinson in "The Graduate", and just today another co-worker told me that I looked like Mother Goose-to my utter dismay;-)

And so it was while indulging the warm, decadent goodness of premade chocolate chip cookies-I started recalling these comically related but unrelated incidents, and I began to wonder....Did I really think that I was too smart for this, or more accurately, too "adult" to indulge in ordinary, but whimsical (at least to me), and sometimes childish activites? I admit, that I don't exhibit many of the predictable actions of people my age, or at the very least, behaviors that are fairly common within my own circle of friends. I don't drink much, and I've never been drunk. I don't give my trust easily, or make privy the inner workings of my own mind (except here, and even here, in a somewhat limited capacity-given that that are many who may read this) without that trust. I impress rigid high standards on myself, and govern my actions with a stubborn control that lends a rather large degree of inscrutability to my character. Why do I do it? Perhaps because....I really don't want people to know me after all.

Suddenly these cookies don't taste so good after all.

"Sixteen Tons"

2005-06-24T12:30:00.000-04:00

A much belated hello to all of you. I do apologize, for I have been quite remiss in my blogging as of late. Alas, I can only chalk it up to exhaustion. I haven't been sleeping at all lately (and I stay up much to late to boot, right Mel?), and when I do it seems I either wake after a few hours for no apparent reason, or linger in that halfway lucid state between dreaming and wakefullness. I recently started working mornings making Lasagne for the Villa, and that has not improved my quality of sleep in any way. But, fear not gentle reader, I shall return with more blogs. I'm starting to work myself into a somewhat decent sleeping schedule, due to a recent road trip that forced me beyond exhaustion-so I had to go to sleep early (either that or go insane).

Well folks, I'm going to read some more of The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova-which is an excellent book by the way. It's about the discovery of a rather odd book, and a set of ominous letters written to "My dear and unfortunate successor" that leads the unnamed heroine in seach of the truth about Dracula, or Vlad the Impaler. The book itself shifts back and forth between decades, showing that history does in fact repeat itself-whether we want it to or not. It is one of those books that is so good, I find myself rather reluctant to finish it. So, I'm taking it rather slow instead of racing through it in my usual fashion. Alas, I am getting side tracked. As I was going to say, I am going to go read my book, and then regretfully retire early, as I may have to work in the morning. I hate to say it, but sometimes, being a grown up just plain sucks.

Some people say a man is made outta mud

A poor man's made outta muscle and blood

Muscle and blood and skin and bones

A mind that's a-weak and a back that's strong

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?

Another day older and deeper in debt

Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go

I owe my soul to the company store

I was born one mornin' when the sun didn't shine

I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine

I loaded sixteen tons of number nine coal

And the straw boss said "Well, a-bless my soul"

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?

Another day older and deeper in debt

Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go

I owe my soul to the company store

I was born one mornin', it was drizzlin' rain

Fightin' and trouble are my middle name

I was raised in the canebrake by an ol' mama lion

Cain't no-a high-toned woman make me walk the line

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?

Another day older and deeper in debt

Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go

I owe my soul to the company store

If you see me comin', better step aside

A lotta men didn't, a lotta men died

One fist of iron, the other of steel

If the right one don't a-get you,

Then the left one will

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?

Another day older and deeper in debt

Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go

I owe my soul to the company store...

-Sixteen Tons by Tennessee Ernie Ford

Some People

2005-06-09T03:26:00.000-04:00

Some people are pussies.
Some people are dicks.
Some people are assholes.
Some people are pricks.
Some people have talent
And give good phone.
Some people are Vapid
Like there's no one home.
Some people have balls
Even though they aren't men.
Some people like to let others handle their business instead.
Some people like to think.
While others like to act.
Some people are indifferent
Holding their emotions back.
Some people like to laugh
Emotions at the forefront.
Some people sound like a lost little girl when they are drunk.
Some people like to maintain an innocent veneer.
But if you look beneath the surface
The facade becomes clear.
And if you ask me where she was at 1:30 that day,
Well.
I may have a thing or two to say.
Some people have short hair
Some people like to grow their hair long.
Some people like to talk shit at other people's houses
All Night Long.
We may act childish.
We may be immature.
But, you've gotta admit,
We have a certain allure.
So, if you mess with one of us,
You mess with us all.
So, keep that in mind.
The next time YOU call.

"My Heartstrings Come Undone" Part 2

2005-06-03T01:20:00.000-04:00

“What is she snorting?” Nikki asked loudly, interrupting my gut sinking premonition. “Oh, Ritalin.” She concluded her voice matter-of-fact-no-big-deal.

Perhaps it wasn’t.

But, I call open sores and rotting cartilage in your nose, a big deal.

But, then again. That’s just me.

The evening continued, spilling on into the wee hours of the morning. People laughed. Beers were Bonged. Small talk was made. Names were exchanged. Yet I was unable to leave the feeling of uneasiness behind me, and it colored my every thought, my every smile.

Sitting on the arm of the couch, next to Melanie, Dan, and Nikki, I was dimly aware of the external dialogue that I was carrying on. I was plainly disturbed, yet I preferred that no one knew it. So, I was prattling on about a subject that I can no longer recall, when I was tapped on the shoulder by a rather tall, slightly odd looking gentleman with closely cropped dark brown hair.

“Excuse me. But…I think you’re my cousin.”

Nikki burst out laughing.

I squinted in the diffused light, simultaneously trying to search my memory, and get an exact lock on his face.

“Dennis…?” I tried, the name sounding wrong the minute it spilled out of my mouth.

“No…” He said, sounding bewildered.

“ Jeff!” I shouted confidently, finally making his face. In truth, he was my step-cousin. My mother’s brother Jimmy was married to Jeffery’s mother Linda.

“Yeah! I thought that was you sitting there. It’s Carissa, right?”

“Yes. Wow, what a small world.” I laughed. “My god, it’s been what…years since I’ve seen you.”

“Well, yeah, I think we haven’t seen each other since Great Grandma died.”

“Yes, that was about five years ago. Wow. Well, you look good.” I said, sizing him up. He’d lost a lot of weight. We sat in companionable silence for a few moments.

“So, how’s your mom doing, Jeff?” I asked trying to make polite small talk.

We chit chatted for the better part of an hour, exchanging various stories about the relatives we had in common, college plans, and our working situations. I really hadn’t noticed how entrenched we were in conversation, until a rather breathless Nikki cut in on us.

“Dude, you guys just missed that whole thing.”

“What thing?” We asked in unison, turning our heads abruptly.

Apparently there had been a little bit of conflict between Dan and Lindsay’s Ex Dave, when he had inadvertently placed his hands on Melanie’s hips while trying to show her a dance move. For some reason, Dan had been set off by his effeminate behavior, and laying a hand on Melanie, however innocent it was, had been the final straw.

Melanie was ever vigilant to Dan’s emotions, drunk though she was, and wanting to avoid a skirmish at any cost, she tried to hustle Dave out of there. At first she was nice; trying to explain that Dan had recently returned from Iraq, and was not used to seeing her around other men–it was nothing personal.

I thought it was, however. Just not from Dave’s side.

Unfortunately, Dave became rather offended when he was asked to leave and made the mistake of insulting American soldiers.

This of course, set Melanie right off, and instead of worrying about Dan trying to beat up the kid, everyone had to keep Melanie from jumping him.

“Is Melanie okay?” I asked Nikki, knowing how emotional she could get. “Where is she?”

Apologetically, I broke off my conversation with Jeff, wanting to hear Melanie’s side of the story. I told him to take care of himself, and promised that I would see him around. Following Nikki’s direction, I found Melanie standing outside with her friend Chris, nick named “Goose”. Melanie must have forgotten that she had already introduced us, for she proceeded to do so again.

“Chris, this is my best friend, Carissa.” She said, turning to stand beside me.

“Yeah, we’ve already met.” I said locking eyes with him.

“You have a very exotic look…” He commented, eyes searching my face. “Are you Columbian or something?”

“No. I get that a lot though. I’ve got a mixed background. Half African, Half Caucasian.” I explained patiently, yet perfunctorily. I always went through this with nearly everyone that I met. Something about the way that I look escapes people for some reason, and they are never quite able to place my ethnicity correctly. As if it should be far more complicated than what it really was.

But, in trying to regard myself the way a stranger might…I suppose that I would wonder too at the face of the petite young woman with curly red hair, brown eyes that were so dark they were nearly black framed by obscenely long eye lashes which demurely drew an observer’s gaze downward to a full mouth that had the tiniest scar on the bottom lip where it met the upper. She stands at a non-remarkable height of about five feet tall with rather large breasts that are a tad too big for her frame, yet they never ceased to merit attention-both male and female.

“Ahh,” Chris said, cutting in on my thoughts. “You just have this very Shakira-ish look.”

“I know!” Melanie chimed in, lifting a cigarette to her lips. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

“Yes, she is.” He replied, locking eyes with me once again. The sentiment seemed genuine coming out of his mouth, but a little bird told me that Chris loved himself some women; often at the expense of his significant other.

I dropped my eyes momentarily, stifling the urge to shuffle my feet in an “Aw Shucks” gesture. Being told that I was pretty always made me feel embarrassed and stupid somehow. I didn’t really know what to say either. So, raising my eyes back to his, I opted for a simple “Thank You.”

At this point, Melanie proceeded to fill me in on her version of our little drama, which was more or less similar to what Nikki had already told me. I also learned that our friend Dave promised to return before long though he left under great duress.

Melanie and a more or less sober Chris were standing outside keep the peace.

“Why don’t you join us Shakira?” Chris asked.

Turning my head ever so slightly towards him, I arched one eye brow.

Shakira?

I laughed and took up a position by the door to stand sentinel for a while…

TO BE CONCLUDED….

"The Carnival of You and Me"

2005-06-02T02:40:00.000-04:00

Today has been a long, yet very strange day....

you've always got those dark sunglasses
covering half your face
but if you promise to take them off
i promise i won't squander your gaze
i will be picturesque
i will be nice
i won't do anything you can't tell your wife
i will think before i act
i will think twice
just let me see your eyes
each time we've spoken, we've put in a token and ridden the tilt-a-whirl
i was giggling and dizzy
flirting like a 12 year old girl
the carnival of you and me is coming to town
watch how we spin and spin and then fall down
now we just say hello and head for firmer ground
you are the one-way glass
that watches me
standing in line at the bank
i always looked into your glasses
like a cat looks into a fish tank
but all i could ever see
was the specter of me reflected
i want a monument of the friendship
that we never had erected
i want it to take up lots of room
i want it to loom
you always got those dark sunglasses
between us when we talk
after the party is over
if you wanna take a walk
we could just look around
not do nothing wrong
just try to be at least as brave as our songs
i will bring my heart
i will bring my face
you name the time and place
-Ani DiFranco, Loom

"Back, Back, Back"

2005-06-01T03:24:00.000-04:00

I am so throughly disgusted with people right now, I could just tear my hair out at the roots.

But, never mind me.

I'm just a Judgemental Bitch, right?

And I make too much of things, and I expect more out of people than they are willing to give.

Forgive my aspirations. They were obviously misplaced.

Back back back in the back of your mind
Are you learning an angry language
Tell me Boy Boy Boy are you tending to your joy
Or are you just letting it vanquish
Back back back in the dark of your mind
Where the eyes of your demons are gleaming
Are you Mad Mad Mad
About the life you never had
Even when you are dreaming?

Who are these old old old people
In these nursing homes
Scowling away at nothing
Like big rag dolls just cursing at the walls
And pulling out all of their stuffing
Every day is a door leading back to the core
Yes, old age will distill you
And if you're This This This full of bitterness now
Some day it will just fill you

When you sit right down in the middle of yourself
You're gonna wanna have a comfortable chair
Ro renovate your soul before you get too old
Cuz you're gonna be housebound there
When you're old you fold up like an envelope
And you mail yourself right inside
And there's nowhere to go
Except out real slow
Are you ready, Boy, for that ride?

Your arrogance is gaining on you
And so is eternity
You better practice happiness
You better practice humility
You took the air, You took the time
You were fed and You were free
Now you'd better put some beauty back
While you got the energy
You'd better put some beauty back, Boy
While you got the energy.
- Ani DiFranco, Back Back Back

"One of My Truths"

2005-05-30T01:04:00.000-04:00

Hey All, just a short message here.

I just wanted to thank all of you for the wonderful comments you've been leaving me lately. It really gives my spirit a lift-such a wonderful, innocent little gift.

Hey, that rhymes.

Seriously though.

I really do love all of you so very much, and I wish that I had more than just words to bring that across to you.

Thank you. All of you.

But then what kind of scale
compares the weight of two beauties
the gravity of duties
or the ground speed of joy?
tell me what kind of gauge
can quantify elation?
what kind of equation
could i possibly employ?
and you'll never know, dear
just how much i loved you
you probably think this was
just my big excuse
but i stand committed
to a love that came before you
and the fact that i adore you
is just one of my truths

-Ani DiFranco, School Night

"My Heartstrings Come Undone"

2005-05-26T03:55:00.000-04:00

Last night was probably one of the worst nights that I have had in a long time. It started out innocently enough, with a missed phone call. I was home late last night from work, because I had to run up to the local Wal-Mart for some bread and other necessities. When I returned, there was a small message written on a post-it that said “Call Mel”.

Well, I called Mel, and got her voice mail and left her a message. Then I called Nikki because we had decided that we would keep each other company since Melanie was busy with her boyfriend on leave from Iraq. Nikki informed me that Mel had also called her and that we were to get over to her house A.S.A.P.

Now, usually every Monday is movie night for our small group, and I just assumed that we would be sitting around watching a movie. I was tempted to try to call Mel again to see if she wanted me to bring a DVD, but I figured that if she called, they probably had something in mind.

When I arrived, I saw three young men slowly meandering down the sidewalk. One of them had a rather large, bright yellow cooler in his hands. I was peering at them intently trying to discern where it is they were going when a thunderous bass beat assaulted my ears. Momentarily slowing my stride, I came to the rather slow realization that Melanie and Co. were having a party.

“Hey, do you know who lives here?” asked the short boy with the cooler in his hands.

“Yeeeaaahh,” I said slowly drawing out the word. “My friends Mel and Eric live here. Why?”

“I don’t know. We were just told to come here, that’s all.” said the boy, plainly looking as confused as I felt.

“Oh.” I really didn’t know what else to say, so I made my way to the door and walked inside leaving it open behind me.

I was greeted immediately by a very drunk Melanie. She stood in the archway of the living room, standing with her silver corduroy clad legs wide apart. Her neon green halter top was cinched close underneath her petite breasts where the fabric then widened and billowed out like a dress, hanging down over her stomach.

“We’re having a party, Carissa!” She gleefully proclaimed waving her hands in the air.

If I had known that there was going to be a party, I never would have shown up.

Nothing against Melanie, she’s one of my best friends. I love her to death. I just don’t do well in a house party setting. It’s definitely not the type of environment in which I thrive, and something bad always seems to happen. I listened to Melanie chatter on about her new friend Hannah that she was trying to get her roommate Eric to take an interest to, while looking anxiously about the room for my other friend Nikki. I knew that she would be sober also. Nikki and I tend to anchor each other in certain situations, and this was one of them.

Inexplicably, I had beaten her to Melanie’s house, which never, EVER, happens.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait too long as Nikki showed up about five minutes later, bottle of water in tow.

“How the hell did that happen?” she asked me, half laughing. “You beat me here!”

“I know.” I answered her, laughing uneasily.

Nikki, Melanie, and I stuck close together most of the night. Melanie was plainly drunk, but extremely talkative, and mostly articulate. She began a detailed report on all the people that were there that I hadn’t met, telling a brief anecdote about each one. Amanda with the ghetto booty fighting with her boyfriend while quietly mooning over an ex of hers that was there. The ever intoxicated Jessica, with a near anorexic frame, reliving her days in the womb along with Melanie as their mother’s were pregnant at the same time. The newly buff, but highly promiscuous Dan, best-friend to Melanie’s boyfriend, also named Dan. The bisexual X-boyfriend named Dave (I think) of our friend Lindsay, who gave off a decidedly feminine vibe despite the loose t-shirt and ultra saggy pants. And the list went on…

I listened patiently, speaking when appropriate, laughing when needed. Soon our little trio was approached by Mel’s roommate Eric. A calm annoyance took lodge in my mind. Eric and I were in a bit of a debate, which should have stayed strictly impassive, but somehow ended up getting slightly personal (see previous blogs).

I stood there next to Eric listening to he and Nikki discuss the finer points of Texas Hold ‘Em. Determined not to be overly bitchy, but stay decidedly unaffected, I opted to keep my mouth shut. Three days ago, Eric had been very callous in an argument towards me, and I was going to speak to him as little as possible until he apologized.

It’s a curious trait among men, that if they find themselves in an argument where they know that they have gone wrong, he will try to simply smooth things over by not acknowledging it. Now, there are those men that will never bring themselves to apologize for their actions (except in the direst circumstances) and try to pick everything up as it was exactly before the argument took place. Then there are those men, which will attempt to get by doing that at first, but then either because of the other person, their own guilt, and an unrelenting sense of right and wrong-they realize what’s important and ultimately apologize.

Eventually, Eric realized that he was getting nowhere with me, and I believed that my silent discontentment was making him uncomfortable. But, I would not force him to give me an apology. He could give it willingly or not at all. If he chose never to give it, well, we would never be friends again. I would never outwardly mistreat him, it wasn’t worth that. I would merely continue on the way that I was with an ice cold demeanor underlying every word that passed between us, despite the smile on my face.

“Alright, Carissa.” Eric said, interrupting my thoughts. His tone was resigned yet somewhat resolute. I turned to face him, a little annoyed, slightly expectant, not sure what was coming. I inclined my head forward, a little to the side with a bitchy smile on my face. Damn, hadn’t meant to do that.

“I’m sorry.”

My heart turned over faintly, and I could feel my eyebrows rising in surprise. For a moment I simply stared at him. At his shaggy hair, his cozy looking red pullover, his uncomfortable smile, the beads of moisture collecting on the outside of the beer can in his right hand.

“I never meant to -“ I started stupidly, throwing up my hands.

“I know you didn’t. You just hurt my pride. There’s not a lot of people who can do that.” Eric finished, cutting me off.

“Okay, Eric.” I said, dropping my eyes, not quite sure how I felt, knowing that the admission had cost him something.

Nikki rose from her chair, grinning broadly, arms extended.

“Awww, you guys are so cute. Did you read the last comment I wrote in your blog, Carissa? I win. Group hug, you guys. I win.”

I wondered vaguely if Nikki was on drugs, before I reluctantly allowed myself to be enveloped by their arms. Nikki’s around my shoulder, Eric’s around my waist. Both of them squeezing hard enough to cut off my air supply. I found myself smiling despite myself. I didn’t realize quite how committed I was to my surliness. Damn them. Inwardly, I smiled too, broader than I allowed anyone else to see.

As soon as our hug ended, we were approached by Melanie and her boyfriend Dan.

“Look who’s here, honey.” She beamed.

“Hi, Carissa.” Dan greeted me, leaning down for a hug.

“Hello, Daniel” I said, leaning up on the balls of my feet, returning the hug.

He thanked me again and apologized profusely for my having had to sign his friend out of the emergency room the other night after he drunkenly passed out somewhere. For someone that doesn’t really drink, I always seem to be surrounded by people that do. I assured him once again, that it was no problem, and Melanie pointed out to us how “buff” Dan was getting. I watched while he and Nikki compared biceps.

“Uhh, I think he’s got you beat there, Nikki.” I said eyeing a bicep that was bigger than my head. We all laughed.

Eric sidled up to us, and Dan threw his arm around his shoulders.

“Carisa, you have got to find this guy a great girlfriend.”

Three different girls that I knew came to my mind, along with this new girl, Hannah.

“Hey, I’ve tried. He’s too picky.” I said, pointedly looking into his eyes.

“I am not picky” Eric protested, bending under Dan’s arm.

“Yes, you are.” I shot back without hesitation.

“Well, I may be picky, but I’m not too picky.” He said, sullenly.

Yeah, and my bra size is a double A. It seemed to me, and to a lot of us other girls, that Eric wanted a specific type of girl in appearance, and in thought. I thought of Hannah again, so typically small, and blond. How conventional of our society. I sighed inwardly. Whatever happened to being unique?

“Well, what about Hannah?” I asked, watching Dan and Melanie kiss each other. Eric explained that since everyone was hell bent on them hooking up, the whole thing seemed a little contrived, which was making the whole thing feel awkward. I shrugged my shoulders. I understood, but there really wasn’t a lot I could say. Or rather there was a lot that I wanted to say to him about his preferences, but decided that remaining silent was probably the best course of action.

Melanie took me aside and introduced me to her friend Chris whom she had affectionately nicknamed “Goose” and who consequently started calling her “Maverick” because neither of us had ever seen “Top Gun”. This was a veritable sin, as far as the American movie going population was concerned, and every promised to remedy the situation as soon as possible.

Our friend Lindsay of the multicolored hair approached Melanie and whispered something in her ear.

“No.” Melanie said. Then eyeing the ceiling, as if she was making a decision she said; “Well, maybe. Yes.”

Linds went to her purse by the entertainment center, got out a small container, and shook what looked like pills into her pale hand. She grabbed an ATM card and started crushing them up. I felt my heart sinking into my stomach as a terrible knowledge lodged itself in my gut.

For whatever reason, this night was not going to end well.

TO BE CONTINUED…..

Snippets

2005-05-23T05:00:00.000-04:00

but all of the theories
that he recited
played like a song
of the unrequited...

surprise surprise now you miss me
now that i'm not in your face
surprise surprise now you're calling me
now that you feel safe...

and there was much to forgive
and there was much to forget
it seems we both stood by
while the record was set
and now when i look at you
and when you look at me
it's a much different view
we are both decked out in our history...

i watch you sometimes
from oh so far away
but i can't forget you
or anything you say...

do you ever wonder when the damage will be done?
do you ever feel like one times one times one?
do your eyes scrape the pavement as you shuffle from the sun?
does your breath walk behind you when the dialogue is done?

naked and nervous silence
therefore conversation to abuse
stood between us like a parent
like a game we had to lose...

you are subtle as a window pane
standing in my view
but i will wait for it to rain
so that i can see you
you call me up at night
when there's no light passing through
and you think that i don't understand
but i do

we don't say everything that we could
so that we can say later
oh, you misunderstood
i hold my cards up
close to my chest
i say what i have to
and i hold back the rest...

you know i can't apologize
for everything i know
i mean you don't have to agree with me
but once you get me going
you better just let me go
we have to be able to criticize
what we love
say what we have to say
'cause if you're not trying to make something better
then as far as i can tell
you are just in the way.

i let alone what is broken
'cause it isn't mine
he strikes out at me
when i am within reach
then he reaches for me
when i draw the line.

i'm gonna roll you over
gonna peel you back
expose your tender center
watch the juices flow from the crack
gonna peel you out
of your protective shell
or i might have to break right in there
and raise some hell

when you look in the mirror
do you see visions of your past
i ain't got time for halfway
i ain't got time for halfassed
when i look in the mirror
i see my days to come
and my face is just a trace
of where i'm coming from.

when you look at me
you see my purpose,
see my pride
you think i just saddle up my anger
and ride and ride and ride
you think i stand so firm
you think i sit so high on my trusty steed
let me tell you
i'm usually face down on the ground
when there's a stampede

i'm no heroine
at least, not last time i checked
i'm too easy to roll over
i'm too easy to wreck
i just write about
what i should have done
i just sing
what i wish i could say...

lower my eyes
wishing i could cry more
and care less,
yes it's true,
i was trying to love someone again,
i was caught caring,
bearing weight...

they think i make a big deal about nothing
but they still think i'm
kinda cute.

tell me who is your boogieman
that's who i will be
you don't have to like me for who i am
but we'll see what you're made of
by what you make of me
i think that it's absurd
that you think i
am the derelict daughter
i fight fire with words
words are hotter than flames
words are wetter than water.

i'm not hurting anyone
i'm just telling my truth
and if there
if there is something wrong
then maybe
there's something wrong with you
what's the big deal
get over it
relax
just 'cause i do up in your face
what other people do behind your back
why we all gotta look
gotta act the same
i say
if you're born a lion
don't bother trying to act tame.

i think i know more than you
about the way that you feel
i understand your anger
and your apathy
i think if i was you,
you're who i'd be....

and i might let you off easy
yeah i might lead you on
i might wait for you to look for me
and then i might be gone
where i come from and where i'm going
and i'm lost in between
i might go up to that phone booth
and leave a veiled invitation on your machine...

All of these little snippets were taken from songs by Ani DiFranco. She's a great lyricist and musician, if you haven't heard of her, check her out!!!

Libertango

2005-05-19T04:40:00.000-04:00

Anonymous said...
carrissa im glad that i gave you something to spend so much time on, that i know you like doing, and while you may or may not have proven some of my opinions to the contrary, the fact remains that you still have no pesonal experience with what it does to a person phsycologically, physiologically, mentally emotionally. they dont tell you emotion in your endless sources of facts and information. i got about half way through your fine report, and realized you got a tad carried away with this. most of what you stated in you facts about nuerons and receptors i already knew, but i have an extra ciricular training in that sort of thing you could say. but most people dont know that kind of thing, so im glad you got it out there. but anyways im getting sidetracked here. what i want to say is that no matter how much information you gather, how many websites you read, how many people you see be negatively effected by this, you still have no true idea what it is like, becuase you have never experienced it for your self, and its easy to sit back and criticize the people that you easily brush off as potheads. you dont know what they feel, why they do it, what it does for them. you got this whole huge report all done and it doesnt prove a thing, except what i already knew, and what you should except already. :)

I’ve been mulling over the right way to reply to this illogicality for nearly twenty four hours now. I think I just may have set it down right. Alright, Inhale. Exhale. Here goes…

1) Did you even read the whole thing? You remarked that you got about halfway through it, but did you actually make it through the entire thing? Something tells me that you probably didn’t. Why I should count this as a valid comment is beyond me, if you couldn’t do me the simple honor of reading until the very last period.

2) I didn’t get carried away. I wrote what was necessary to make my case, if that means that it got a little too extensive for you-that’s your problem. Something you should understand about writing anything is that you stop when you feel it’s the right time to stop. Not because you think it might be too much for others to swallow. That is every inspired person’s choice to make.

3) So, you knew most of what I already stated about the destruction of neurons, the blocking of receptors, and the after effects thereof, did you? Interesting. Why, then, did you make such unapprised observations in your last comment? Why would an informed person, with such “extracurricular” knowledge, say things like that?

4) You’re quite right when you say that I have never smoked pot, or ingested it in any other way, shape, or form. But, the fact as to whether or not I have ever smoked pot was not the aim of our argument. The Argument was about Marijuana being harmful to a person in more ways than one. Somehow, you only seem be able to see what you want to see. You accuse me of being blind when it is not so. You point the finger at me for “writing people off” as pot heads when it is not so. I have never, EVER, rejected anyone on such a basis. I am so much more tolerant than you have ever given me credit for. Have I ever gone to you and tried to rip a bottle of beer out of your hands for drinking? Have I ever thrown away a pack of your cigarettes, because I know that all they can really do to you is make you suffer from various respiratory ailments, and eventually, maybe cancer of some sort? Have I ever tried to steal a joint, or tear a bong out of your hands for using Marijuana? Have I ever stormed out of a room in disgust at you or anyone for doing any type of drug? Have I ever told anyone not to speak to me again because they snorted Ritalin, or swallowed a bunch of Ultrams? No. I could have fired those three boys that day for leaving work to go smoke pot, but I didn’t.
I could merely give all my friends up for doing any one type of drug. But, I do not. I do not agree with many of the things that go on around me concerning recreational drug use, excessive drinking, smoking, etc. I will tell anyone who asks that. I will tell you why you should not engage in such behaviors. Allow yourself to understand that I am not motivated by prudishness concerning such things. What motivates me is that I care deeply about you-all of you, and it pains me to know that something irrevocable might happen to you, if you’re not careful. It hurts me to think that you would believe that I am capable of such abysmal behavior. Your arrogance has blinded you to that fact.

5) Don’t tell me that I have no experience with Marijuana just because I have never smoked it. I’ve seen what it does to excessive smokers. I see how my coworkers perform when they are on it. My brother was expelled from school because of it. Are you honestly implying that you have learned all that you need to know about it simply by smoking it? I don’t need to smoke it to understand that it makes the user feel euphoric. I don’t need to smoke it to understand what it could physically do to a person, if they use it in excess. I don’t need to smoke it to understand, that if I am caught with it by the police, that there are going to be consequences. I don’t need to smoke it to understand that people use Marijuana (or any other drug) for a myriad of reasons ranging from curiosity to depression to addiction. I don’t need to use Marijuana to understand these things, anymore than I need to thrust my hands into a raging fire to know that it is hot.

6) Finally, how dare you try to say that everything that I have written, or even felt concerning this subject is a wasted effort? If you were trying to insult me, or hurt my feelings you have succeeded admirably. I hope that haughty attitude keeps you warm in your bed at night. By writing what I have written, I have learned more than I ever thought I would about this subject. And I will keep learning. Can you say the same? I get the feeling that you would rather be right than concede anything, despite any emotion that you may feel to the contrary. That desire, to get the last word, to get that final barb in overrides your better judgment. I can admit defeat when I have fallen, but I have not. You may not like the things that I have written, but that doesn’t mean that they’re wrong because of it.
You know, you were wrong when you said that my “whole huge report” didn’t prove anything. I was able to prove many things, among them, your ignorance.

"I Against I"

2005-05-04T07:06:00.000-04:00

Anonymous said..."its not where the holiday originated that is important, it is what it means to all the people who choose to involve themselves with that particular option in life. and further more you say its brain damaging like its killing brain cells on a record scale, which it does not. it blocks receptors which is completley reversable. i think you like to make a big deal of all of this because you see yourself in some way above these people, that your more intelligent than these people because you dont smoke pot, and its so rediculous that they dont even know where the holiday came from,they have to be idiots. i think this whole thing is condecsending and pretentious.not to offend, its just what i think, consider it."

“A mighty Flame Followeth a tiny spark”-Dante

So, I’m sitting here in with my laptop in my lap, I have the movie “Underworld” playing on the T.V., and I’m listening to Johnny Lang’s gritty vocals on his cover of the blues hit “Cherry Red Wine”. I was trying to come up with a good way to start this post, but I couldn’t find the proper words-so let me simply say that this is going to be my refutation to the comment posted by “Anonymous” overhead. I seem to have found a subject that has resonance with a lot of people, (as well it should) and I’ve decided to run with it. (Just a little note though, that I’m going to post my sources later on if anyone is interested, this blog is going to be hard enough to read as it is). Good, now that we have all that out of the way…

Get comfy. You’re going to be here for a while. This is going to be long, but I ask that you read it all before you comment on it. Please let me know that I have not wasted my time…

First, let’s talk about what Marijuana is. Marijuana is the dried, shredded leaves, stems, seeds, and flowers of the hemp plant Cannabis Sativa (NIDA 1). The color of Marijuana usually differs according to its quality. High quality Marijuana has a tendency to be green, while low quality Marijuana has a tendency to be brown (Ketcham and Pace 101). Out of the over four hundred chemicals to be found in Pot, the main active ingredient is delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol-otherwise known as THC (Ketcham and Pace 101).

THC is responsible for the much desired “high” that one experiences when smoking, eating, or drinking Marijuana. The primary method of use that I’ll be discussing here is, of course, smoking it. When a person smokes Marijuana, THC goes immediately from the lungs right down into the bloodstream through which the chemical proceeds to the rest of the organs in the body-especially the brain (NIDA 3). Once THC is in the brain it attaches itself to specific sites on the nerve cells, called cannabinoid receptors (NIDA).

How does this work? Well, you have about One Hundred Billion nerve cells (neurons) in that soft three pound mass you like to call a brain (Hyde and Setaro 19-20). Thousands, (maybe even tens of thousands) neurons all connect to each other via specialized branches through which they send messages to each other in your brain (Hyde and Setaro 19-20). Neurotransmitters are the special chemicals that help move these messages across synapses, from one cell to the next (Hyde and Setaro 19-20). There are all kinds of different Neurotransmitters in the brain and each one has a specific shape that enables it to fit into certain receptors (Hyde and Setaro 19-20). Now, a chemical like THC is able to masquerade as a neurotransmitter and thus affix itself to certain receptors, such as the cannabinoid receptors and thereby influence the way those cells work.

” People think it's all about misery and desperation and death and all that shit which is not to be ignored, but what they forget is the pleasure of it. Otherwise we wouldn't do it. After all, we're not fucking stupid. At least, we're not that fucking stupid.”-Mark “Rent-boy” Renton, Trainspotting

According to the National Institute on Drug Abuse, many of the cannabinoid receptors are found in the areas of the brain that regulate “pleasure, memory, thought, concentration, sensory and time perception, and coordinated movement” (3-4). Thus, THC begins to bring about euphoria by flooding the brain’s reward system with the chemical known as dopamine. Dopamine is released in the brain when you eat, have sex, hug your best friend, pet your cat or dog-even sometimes in anticipation of any type of pleasurable experience. Dopamine is actually far too complex of a chemical to break down here, so we’ll just leave it at that. However, it is interesting to note that it is this chemical that scientists have come to believe is characteristic of all types of drug addiction (Hyde and Setaro 20).

Don’t go jumping off your chair now. In nowhere in this post, (or in the last post, Anonymous) did I make the association that everyone who smokes pot is addicted, although long term Marijuana use does lead to addiction for some. So, keep your butt planted.

“…and further more you say its brain damaging like its killing brain cells on a record scale, which it does not. it blocks receptors which is completley reversable.”-Anonymous

It is brain damaging. Although, I’m sorry if some of you were led to believe that it kills brain cells on a massive scale every time a person smokes it. This is definitely not the case. No, the effects of Marijuana’s damage to the brain are more exponential. It’s a slow killer. That is, every time you smoke it, you do a little more damage.

Take the hippocampus, for example. This is the area of your brain that is responsible for learning and memory. When a person smokes Marijuana, THC affixes itself (I guess you could say that it blocks them in the respect that it keeps the natural chemicals from getting in there) to receptors in this area of the brain. This, of course is reversible… eventually. Once you stop smoking Marijuana, the “high” will usually dissipate in anywhere from one to three hours (Ketcham and Pace 101).

What most people don’t seem to realize, is that even in people who use infrequently, “several days must pass before the amount of Marijuana in the blood or urine is reduced by 50 percent, and several weeks before the body completely eliminates the drug” (Ketcham and Pace 102). Keep in mind that all during this time you still have THC floating around in your bloodstream, affecting your brain even though the immediate “high” is long gone.
Now, let’s say you smoke some pot at the beginning of the month, but before your body is able to completely slough off the Marijuana- you smoke some more. Just because you waited a few days or a few weeks in between doesn’t necessarily diminish the overall effect of THC on your brain. Yes, the concentration gradually begins to fade away, and if allowed will completely leave the body. But, when you smoke a little here and there you only prolong some of its more persistent effects. What is more, “Marijuana accumulates in the body’s fat tissues; even with complete abstinence, the drug may be detected in urine tests after thirty to forty days, and may continue to affect mental, physical, and emotional functioning for months” especially in heavy users (Ketcham and Pace 102).

Alas, I’m digressing here. Where were we? Ah yes, the hippocampus. Like I said, the hippocampal region of the brain is responsible for learning and memory. It has been shown that during intoxication THC affixes itself to cannabinoid receptors in that area of the brain. This “impairs a person’s ability to form memories, recall events, and shift attention from one thing to another” (NIDA 4). This happens because THC alters the way that the brain processes information in that area (NIDA 4).

The scientists in this study reported by the National Institute on Drug Abuse had some rather interesting findings to report on a study done on laboratory rats treated with THC. Here are their conclusions:Laboratory rats treated with THC displayed the same reduced ability to perform tasks requiring short-term memory as other rats showed after nerve cells in their hippocampus were destroyed. In addition, the THC-treated rats had the greatest difficulty with the tasks precisely during the time when the drug was interfering most with most with the normal functioning of the cells in the hippocampus (“Marijuana” 4).
It goes on to state that: As people age, they normally lose neurons in the hippocampus, which decreases their ability to remember events. Chronic THC exposure may hasten the age-related loss of hippocampal neurons. In one series of studies, rats exposed to THC every day for 8 months (approx. 30 percent of their lifespan), when examined at 11 to 12 months of age, showed nerve cell loss equivalent to that of unexposed animals twice their age(“Marijuana” 4). This and other studies have lead scientists to suggest that Marijuana uses can lead to permanent memory damage (NIDA, “Mind” 1).

Interesting, no?

More interesting still, is the fact that the human brain is not just developing during childhood and puberty. In fact, the brain still develops well into our twenties. Take then, a survey conducted by Monitoring the Future in 2002 concerning Marijuana/Hashish use by students. This survey found that 1.6% of 8th graders, 3.9% of 10th graders, and 6.0% of 12th graders report daily use of Marijuana (MTF, Ketcham, and Pace 104). Looking at these figures set down on the page, they seem rather small, maybe even a little remote. I’m sure you’re thinking to yourself by now that it doesn’t seem that big.

Then allow me to give you a bigger number to roll around in that head of yours.

In 2003, the National Survey on Drug Use and Health conducted by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration reported that 3.1 million persons aged 12 or older used Marijuana DAILY, on 300 or more days in the past year (SAMHSA 1).

Whoa, Keanu Reeves style.

So, what then are the long term effects on the brain?

According to Dr. Daniel Amen in his book Change Your Brain, Change Your Life:…

”frequent, long term marijuana use has the potential to change the perfusion (blood flow) pattern of the brain. While prior studies showed global decreased brain activity, I found focal decreased activity in the temporal lobes…[which has] been associated with problems in memory, learning, and motivation-common complaints of teenagers (or at least their parents) and adults who chronically abuse marijuana. Amotivational syndrome, marked by apathy, poor attention span, lethargy, social withdrawal, and loss of interest in achievement, [has] been attributed to marijuana abuse for many years” (qtd. in Ketcham and Pace 108).

SPECT (Single Photon Emission Computed Tomography) scans have shown decreased metabolic activity, blood flow, and also various holes in the brains of regular Marijuana users (Ketcham and Pace 108). This means that a lot of the wheels in your brain aren’t turning as much as they should be.

“We first make our habits, and then our habits make us.”-John Dryden

So, what should we take away from this? Yes, THC will leave your brain and body completely if it is allowed to. But, make NO mistake, once THC begins to damage your brain-IT IS NOT REVERSABLE. Once the neurons are destroyed in different areas of your brain, you CANNOT get them back. They are gone. Do Not Pass GO. Do Not Collect 200 Dollars. They are fucking gone.

Moreover, THC interference is in no way just restricted to the hippocampal area of the brain. Cannabinoid receptors are found all over the brain, in areas like the cerebellum, nucleus accumbens, basal ganglia, hypothalamus, amygdala, spinal cord, brain stem, central grey area, and the nucleus of the solitary tract (NIDA, “Marijuana” 4). Control of these areas span from coordination of body movements, balance, posture, hearing, touch, sight, taste, smell, regulation of body temperature, regular housekeeping functions of the body, emotional responses, fear, pain, sleep, arousal, analgesia (unawareness of pain), visceral sensations, nausea, and vomiting (Ketcham and Pace 108; NIDA, “Marijana" 3)

Fuck with them at your peril.

And don’t get me started on the cancerous aspects of Marijuana, along with the problems it causes in the lungs, the immune system, heart, sinuses, reproductive organs, and the overall number it can do to the emotional health on some users.

“If you know the enemy and know yourself you need not fear the results of a hundred battles.” -Sun Tzu

Before I get to my conclusion let me just throw a few fast facts at you:

-39.2% of daily Marijuana users were dependent on or abused Marijuana compared with 13.5% of less than daily Marijuana users (SAMHSA).

-Males are 3 times as likely to become daily users of Marijuana (SAMHSA).

-Adolescents who use Marijuana weekly are 6 times more likely to run away from home, 5 times more likely to steal from places other than home, 6 times more likely to cut classes or skip school, and 4 times more likely to physically attack others (Ketcham and Pace 105).

-Marijuana smoke contains 50 to 70% more carcinogenic (cancer causing) hydrocarbons than does tobacco smoke (NIDA, “Marijuana” 5).

-45% of reckless drivers not impaired by alcohol tested positive for Marijuana. Illegal drugs are used by 10 to 22% of drivers involved in crashes (National Clearinghouse for Alcohol and Drug Information).

-The AVERAGE Marijuana smoker drops $816.00 dollars a year on his habit. The AVERAGE student drops about $900.00 on Alcohol. Do you know how much the AVERAGE college student spends on books? About $450.00. Remember that the next time you start bitching about book prices or not having any money (NCADI; Factsontap.org).

-In 1999, more than 220,000 people entered drug abuse treatment citing Marijuana as their primary drug of abuse (NIDA, “Marijuana” 7).

-There are almost 1 million listings for “Marijuana” on internet search engines, but about 90% are pro-legalization or glorify Marijuana use (NCADI).

“The only good is knowledge, and the only evil is ignorance.”

-Socrates

Ready for the conclusion are you? Well, my faithful friends, here you go:

“i think you like to make a big deal of all of this because you see yourself in some way above these people, that your more intelligent than these people because you dont smoke pot, and its so rediculous that they dont even know where the holiday came from,they have to be idiots. i think this whole thing is condecsending and pretentious.not to offend, its just what i think, consider it.”-Anonymous

Well, all things considered, it is kind of a big deal. Not just because it can hurt you, but because millions of men, women, and children use Marijuana or are affected by it in some way even if they don’t. Marijuana use(and other drugs) have impacted me and my family whether they see it or not. Marijuana users get lower grades and are less likely to graduate from high school (NIDA, “Marijuana” 6). In that respect, one of my own brother’s has become another statistic, and is now less likely to get a regular job because he lacks a diploma. Am I saying that my brother didn’t graduate because he smoked Pot? No. Do I think that Pot was a contributing factor to his being suspended from and eventually dropping out of school? Definitely. Evidence of Marijuana was found in his backpack one day at school hence his suspension, not to mention the legal problems that he suffered from it.

I have a cousin who smoked pot on a regular basis and eventually moved up to bigger, “better”, drugs-which eventually forced him into rehab. Do I think he became a drug addict because he smoked pot? It’s possible. Although, it seems that since he moved on to harder drugs like Cocaine, the thrill of smoking dope eventually wore away for him. The subject of whether or not Marijuana changes your brain, thus making you more likely to crave other drugs or merely increases your opportunities to try other drugs is still up for debate (Ketcham and Pace 114). The premise of Marijuana being a gateway drug along with Alcohol, is one of which I have no doubt. It does seem to follow that once people indulge in certain drugs they are more likely to want to try something else.

One of my Aunt’s smoked Marijuana, which lead to heavier, more dangerous drug use, and eventually addiction. She’s now schizophrenic from her addiction, condemned to wasting away some of the best years of her life in a clinic. The prognosis seems grim. It’s doubtful that she’ll ever recover. Pity. I’ve never even met her. I’ve never even heard her voice on the phone. If she hadn’t been a drug addict during nearly all the years of I’ve been alive, perhaps she would have wanted to meet me. Now, I doubt if she’ll even remember me. Do I think she became an addict because she smoked Pot? No. Do I think Marijuana use contributed? Damn, right I do.

Some of my own co-workers frequently come to work “baked” out of their skulls, or slip away when they’re on the clock to indulge in a joint or two, leaving me to pull their weight. It has been shown that “employees who smoked Marijuana on or off the job reported more withdrawal behaviors-such as leaving work without permission, daydreaming, spending work time on personal matters, and shirking tasks-that adversely affect productivity and morale” (NIDA, “Marijuana” 6). These are all behaviors that I have noticed in some of my co-workers when I know that they are “high”. Does this mean that they have to be smoking dope all the time to exhibit any of these behaviors? Hardly. But, it certainly doesn’t help.

The post I wrote about 4/20 was meant to be sardonic. There is nothing special about 4/20. It’s not on par with any of the holidays that resonate in the heart of many different nationalities and cultures across the globe. Don’t try to tell me that it means something special in the hearts of people that celebrate and indulge themselves in using Marijuana on this day. There is no real history, no struggle to make such a day legitimate. People attach a date onto it to try to make their drug use seem justified. If 3.1 million people use Pot daily on 300 or more days of the year, do you really think that one more day means anything to them? No, and it’s insulting to think that certain people would want to raise it up onto the same pedestal as other holiday’s such as Memorial Day, Martin Luther King Day, Christmas, Kwanza, etc. It’s a slap in the face to anyone who has ever suffered or died to bring about the changes that these days honor. So, perhaps it is you who is being pretentious, or conceited enough to believe that 4/20 deserves to be raised up on a pedestal in any way.

Am I against the legalization of Marijuana? I really don’t know. Its use is so prevalent in our society, it almost seems as though they should just legalize it and get it over with. Then I say they should tax the hell out of it and start putting the money towards the immense deficit our country seems to be incurring. Am I in favor of Marijuana for the medicinal use of many cancer patients going through chemotherapy, people that suffer from glaucoma, or from chronic wasting due to AIDS? Yes, I am. It has been show that THC can help alleviate a variety of symptoms. As long as every patient understands the risks involved, I think that it’s okay. Especially if you’re a terminally ill patient with only months or a few years left to live…if it can help make them comfortable with the remaining life that have left to them, so be it.

It still doesn’t make recreational Marijuana permissible for others who do not fit those conditions.

Do I see myself as “above” these people because I don’t smoke Dope? No. I see myself as better educated, and perhaps, if they knew the things that I know about using Marijuana, they might hesitate the next time someone offers them some. In addition, regular, and chronic users have my pity more than anything else. Destroying certain parts of your brain, harming your lungs, heart, and many other organs in your body-maybe even getting cancer, or dying because of complications due to Marijuana use….Certain users will never be able to operate their minds to the fullest extent. Many won’t graduate from high school or college because of it. Many won’t get a good paying job because of drug convictions on their record. Numerous users will spend the rest of their lives cycling in and out of rehab because of that drug and various others. Indeed, some will never be anything more than what they are now. That doesn’t mean that any of them will never rise above it, and stop using completely whether they are the occasional, regular, or chronic user. Scores of them will succeed, but they will have to suffer countless hardships that they may not have incurred otherwise. But, that is their choice to make. Not mine. I’m not going to tell you that you can’t smoke dope or try take that joint or bong out of your hands. I will tell you that you shouldn’t use Marijuana for all these reasons stated in this post and many more.

Ultimately, I can only relate my own stories about how drug use has impacted my life, try to educate, and be there to listen if someone needs an ear. So, remember, you only have one body, one mind. It’s the only one you’re going to get in this life, so take good care of it, and you’ll never have to waste your time wondering… “What if????”

“Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television; choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life...”- Mark “Rent-boy” Renton, Trainspotting.

Crossing the Rubicon

2005-05-02T06:28:00.000-04:00

Here's an interesting little tidbit that I recieved in regards to my "Insipid" post:

Anonymous said...
its not where the holiday originated that is important, it is what it means to all the people who choose to involve themselves with that particular option in life. and further more you say its brain damaging like its killing brain cells on a record scale, which it does not. it blocks receptors which is completley reversable. i think you like to make a big deal of all of this because you see yourself in some way above these people, that your more intelligent than these people because you dont smoke pot, and its so rediculous that they dont even know where the holiday came from,they have to be idiots. i think this whole thing is condecsending and pretentious.not to offend, its just what i think, consider it.

Very well.

Alea iacta est.

Insipid

2005-04-29T14:30:00.000-04:00

So, it's been a while (yet again) since I've written. Im in the process of showing my apartment because I'll be moving next week, so things are just a tad hectic. You'll have to forgive me for not updating sooner. Anyways, I'm about eight days overdue with this post, but I thought what the hell. A conversation that I had with a friend late the other night prompted me to revisit a topic I was going to let go...but it's too much fun, and so I must insist.

When I said that I was eight days overdue with this post, I was in fact referring to the International Stoner Holiday of 4/20. Last week, on the eve of this little "underground" holiday, it seemed that many of the young men I worked with in the kitchen were all aflutter to get Wednesday off. I was in the process of grilling one of my subordinates as to why he needed the next day off so badly, when it dawned on me. 4/20. Tomorrow is 4/20. At which point, I asked this particular young man what the hell the damn difference was. "You guys get high all the time, anyways. One MORE day of getting high isn't going to be any better or worse than any other day that you did it, simply because you attach a number on to it."

Then I stopped and thought again. I myself, was somewhat familiar with the urban legend that spawned the widely beloved holiday-so I decided to test the background information of some of these people hip to the "underground", as it were.

Ironically enough, none of them really knew what it was. A lot of people seem to be under the impression that the police dispatch code for marijuana is 420.

It's not.

I also seem to remember hearing some various garbage about the origination of 4/20 concerning various school shootings, even something about it having to do with Hitler's Birthday.

Again, nothing to do with that. Good try though, guys.

Color me amazed when I find out that an international holiday so many people claim to love-(especially people I know and work with) they really know nothing about. I find the whole thing rather amusing, but then again, it is marijuana we're talking about here.

Anywho.

So, in my usual fashion, I decide to do a little investigative work, and confirm my earlier suspisions that 4/20 doesn't actually refer to a date for getting high-it refers to the time. As far as I can tell, the whole thing originated in a California high school around 1971. There was a group of around a dozen or so teenagers who used the term as a code for the time that they were going to meet every day to get high. This code was intended as a way to get around adults, so they wouldn't interfere with any of the groups "extra curricular" activites. Eventually, it somehow evolved through many different incarnations as a special day to get high.

There's your history lesson for today, boys and girls.

Alot of you may be wondering why I decided to write something about an event that I don't partake in, and find as a rather ludicrous excuse to engage in a potentially brain damaging activity-not to mention the fact that it is illegal. It's sort of like Christmas. You know, people use the birth of Christ as an excuse to spend way over their budget and put themselves in debt. But, it's Christmas, you say to yourself as you swipe your card through yet another credit card machine. It's almost the same kind of mentality.

"But marijuana doesn't cause brain damage!" you say to yourself incredulously.

Oh, don't get me started.

But then again, I just might.

Till next time, boys and girls.

Otherwise

2005-04-17T04:17:00.000-04:00

This entire week has been just one big let down after another. Im sure everyone has them. Those times when life feels like it's just one big giant toilet. I keep trying to be the optimist. Glass half full, yadah, yadah, yadah. But, it's really hard. It's so easy to just be depressed. It's so easy to be angry. It's so easy to be afraid. There's really no struggle involved in dissolving life into a downward spiral like that. All you have to do is let go. Everything just flows away from you, just like in a dream. It's almost surreal the lack of control you have...

But, I guess that's the easy way out of your problems, and I have never been one for the easy way out.

I think people wonder why it is that I push myself so hard concerning some things. I halfway wonder myself sometimes. I think what it boils down to is that I don't like to give in. It's almost a deliberate challenge to myself. A contest of will. To see how strong I really am. It doesn't mean that I don't feel the same things that a lot of people feel or have the same wants as others have... It's just that there are certain things that I can't give in to. I have to be my own rock, if no one else will, and really who does it really boil down to in the end but yourself?

Although, being your own rock has it's downside.

Wow. Let's all JUMP on the Immaturity BandWagon, Shall we?

2005-04-15T04:14:00.000-04:00

Irritability is immaturity of character. If you are subject to being cross and unpleasant with others for no apparent reason, you need to come face-to-face with the fact that you are thinking too much of yourself. After all, your feelings are not the most important thing in this world.
-Lawrence G. Lovasik

So, shall we all take a bit of our own advice and grow the FUCK UP???

2005-04-07T04:32:00.000-04:00

"...I have never been aware before how many faces there are. There are quantities of human beings, but there are many more faces, for each person has several."
-Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge

Coercive as a Coma

2005-04-06T04:12:00.000-04:00

Hey all. I know it's been a little bit. Again. But, I've been working hard on some new posts. The content of said posts, I refuse to disclose. Sorry. Im getting close though. No worries. I've been sitting here trying to think of something meaningful to write, but meaningfulness seems to be eluding me tonight. Really truth be told, I'm very overtired and I've been kind of bummed the last few days. You ever get that feeling that everything you do is totally useless? That no matter what you say or do in any given situation is just a waste of breath and energy? Don't get me wrong, I'm not being fatalistic here. Just fighting everyday feelings of futility. Ah, well. I'll get over it. I always do. On a brighter note, I found a really funny new blog called waiterrant. I think the title just about explains it all, and being a waitress-well i know you can see the relevance. I think it's a great read and I highly recommend you check it out. Till next time everyone.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow....

2005-03-31T12:08:00.000-05:00

Like the Macbeth reference? I sure did. Anyways. I know I haven't posted in about a week or so, and I just wanted to let everyone know that I am still alive. I've been working on a few upcoming posts in my handy dandy notebook. I ended up having to go to Peter White Public Library to get a few reference materials. The whole thing has ended up taking a little more time than I anticipated. But, I am cautiously optimistic. I hope to have something posted by Tomorrow night or the next day. I hope :)
Well, I am severely exhausted (as I worked my ass off tonight at the restaurant. I was well compensated though.) and I'm going to head to bed in a few minutes, at the highly indecent hour of 12:00AM. But, fear not, my lovelies-I shall return.

Garbage

2005-03-21T05:23:00.000-05:00

So, it's very late Sunday night or early Monday morning (if you want to get technical). I'm sitting on the floor in my friend Mel's room with a few other gals, listening to them giggle over the wide variety of garbage intended as sex advice in various women's magazines. My hearing remains peripheral, however, as I've had one of the lousiest nights that I can remember. Oh, I chime in at times, and laugh when I'm supposed to, but for some reason I just can't bring myself to get really involved, nor do I feel like I really belong tonight.
I've had a lot on my mind lately, and I suppose tonight is the summation of various emotions building up. It's funny how one little action, despite it's seeming innocuousness, suddenly brings everything crashing down.
I should have known when I woke up feeling even more exhausted than I was when I fell asleep, that today was going to turn out badly. The extremely snowy, slushy, and all out shitty weather would have been another clue. Nevertheless, I remained highly optimistic throughout most of the day, until one unfortunate incident at work.
While I decline to describe the whole thing in detail, let’s just say that three young gentleman that I work with in the kitchen took an opportune moment to disappear to get lit, regardless of the fact that I alone would be doing the work of 3-5 different people. One of my valued kitchen crew happened to be eating in the dining room, and did what I could not after finding out that I was, in fact, a one woman crew. Upon their imminent and rather subdued return, I found myself so angry that I couldn’t quite find the words to express myself. So, I stayed silent, not trusting what would come out should I dare not think before I open my mouth.
Of course, upon their return they were the embodiment of help. Trying to make up for their serious lack of judgment in any way possible except the obvious way, and I never did get what one expects after situations such as these arise. Oh well, right? Riiiiight.
Anyways, when the other half came to pick me up after work, he was also in a lousy mood for some reason which he declined to disclose. I repeatedly asked trying to ascertain the reason for his sour mood-to no avail. So, I thought perhaps that maybe if I told him about my shitty day, he might feel emboldened enough to tell me what his deal was.
It was like talking to a brick wall. Totally non-responsive. He just blinked, and stared straight ahead as he drove, his face not even registering the barest hint of involvement in the conversation. My spirits dampening even further, I just stared down at my empty hands resting in my lap, as open and bare as the raw emotion that was beginning to smolder down in my chest.
I began to think about the events of the past week, the ridiculous amount of drama that’s some how began to worm its way into my life, and I started growing more and more angry. In my life, about ninety percent of the time I’m usually the listener. I put a lot of people before myself. I’m the one that people come to for advice, and I don’t mind that. I like helping people. But, who does the person who gives advice go to when they need to unburden themselves of their emotional garbage? Good question.
I realize that when people are having a good deal of problems in their life, they tend to talk about them a lot at length, and that’s okay. We’re a very social species, and talking to others helps us work out our problems, and it just plain makes life a lot more bearable on the whole. It’s just lately I’ve found myself so mired in everyone else’s emotional swamps that I can’t get a word in edgewise, and I feel like I’m about to slip underneath the muck, as it were.
But, I suppose that’s why I have you dear blogger. My own personal ear to cry into and shout out of (one could never ask for a better friend).
Relax guys, I’m not yelling at you, so don’t spazz. This post wasn’t meant to yell at you. This journal isn’t written specifically for you. Some posts are meant for you, maybe even about you, but some of it’s meant for me too. I gotta have someplace to keep me sane. I mean, I love you guys, but could we possibly keep the drama down to a minimum? Please?

On the brighter side, I just want to say thanks to everyone that’s been really supportive of my writing. It makes me feel really good to know that all of you enjoy it, and it’s extremely nice to get feedback. I’m thrilled to my toes when I find a new comment in my mail box-so keep them coming.

2005-03-19T02:20:00.000-05:00

Another collage with misc. pics.

2005-03-19T02:19:00.000-05:00

Me. IN A HAT!

2005-03-19T02:16:00.000-05:00

This is a cool pic that I took in the bar where I work.

2005-03-19T02:13:00.000-05:00

My Family's German Shepard Akasha. Yes, as in The Queen of the Damned.

2005-03-19T02:12:00.000-05:00

Telemachus. Named after Odysseus' son in the Odyssey.

2005-03-19T02:08:00.001-05:00

Marius.

2005-03-19T02:08:00.000-05:00

Nimue. Yes, as in Merlin and Nimue.

2005-03-19T02:05:00.000-05:00

My kitty cat Ramses.

AARRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!!!

2005-03-19T00:31:00.000-05:00

Okay guys, Blogger is being officially retarded today for some reason. It wont let me make changes on my template. It's not letting me post anything, and Im sick of fucking with it. I'd rather not lose some good writing anyways. So, I thought I'd take a leg up from NX and try one of these little survey thingies, and maybe throw up a few more pics. If Blogger will let me. So, here goes....

Get To Know Yourself
Created by CaNdi7539 and taken 377 times on bzoink!
Full Name	Carissa Joi Thomas
Birthdate	May 11, 1982
Day Of The Week You Were Born	Um, not sure what day it was.
Time You Were Born	I think it was 2:30 in the afternoon
Place You Were Born	Marquette, Michigan
Currently Live	Sill here...
Type Of Home You Live In	Apartment
How Many Cars Do You Or Your Family Own	One. An Electric Blue Chevy Cavalier
How Many Pets	4 Cats
Do You Live in Urban, Rural, or Suburbs	Well we don't quite have a suburb. Kind of a cross between Urban/Rural-for Marquette anyway.
How Many Languages Can You Speak	I can sort of speak French...sort of.
Hair Color	Dark Violet Red Brown
Eye Color	Black
Skin Tone (Fair, Medium, Dark)	Medium
Race	Caucasion/African American
Hair Type (Straight, Wavy, Curly)	Curly
Long Or Short Finger Nails	Long
Small Or Big Lips	Big
Tall, Short, Average	Short
Skinny, Average, Athletic, Muscular, Husky, Obese	mmmm...Skinny/Athletic?
Shoe Size	7
Pant Size	Different Brands= Different Sizes
Gender	Female
Favorite Genre Of Music	Awww do I have to pick one?
Play An Instrument	Violin
Can You Read Music	Yes
Favorite Song	Right Now it's: Furious Angels by Rob Dougan
Favorite Book	Right Now it's: Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell
Favorite Quote	Right Now it's: "He who is not of nature has yet to obey some of nature's laws" -Dr. Van Helsing on Count Dracula
Favorite Color	Right Now it's: Purple
Favorite Season	MMMM..Fall even though I hate it when it's cold.
Favorite Type Of Weather	Warm, humid, and thunderstormy
Favorite Type Of Car	Hhhh Im not that picky.
Favorite Animal	Cats. Cat's of all kinds.
Thing You Like Most About Yourself	Mmmm...good question. I'll get back to you on that one.
Thing You Dislike Most About Yourself	I tend to ramble sometimes. And I seem to have a penchant for injuring my face
Favorite Person	Awww, do I have to pick just one?
Single, Dating, Engaged, Married, Divorced, Widowed	Engaged
Straight, Bi, Lesbien, Gay	Straight
Optimistic or Pesimistic	Glass half full, right?
Afraid Of The Dark	Sometimes
Albino	Um...No?
Mixed Race (Ex. White & Black .. not Polish & German)	White and Black
Proud Of Your Heritage	Sure.
Wish To Be Another Race	Nawwwww
Do You Litter	Hell No.
Shoplift	Nope.
Drink	Sometimes.
Smoke	Hells NO!
Sleep With Hookers	Nope.
Are You A Hooker	No, not the last time I checked.
How Many People Have You Slept With	One.
How Many Relationships Have You Been In	Would that be good ones or shitty ones?
First Kiss Was Where	In the coat room of my kindergarten class.
Lost Your Virginity Where (or where do you want to lose it)	I'll never tell:-)
Can You Drive	Of course.
Do Drugs	That would be an emphatic no.
Left The Nation	That would be another emphatic no.
Move A Lot	Yes, unfortunately.
If You could Live Anywhere, Where	Salem, Mass.
Allergies	Yeah.
Asthma	No.
Shakira Or Jennifer Lopez	Do I have to pick one, cause they both kind of suck.
Christina Aguilera or Britney Spears	I refuse to dignify that one with an answer.
Madonna Or Cher	Madonna. Sorry, Cher.
The Beatles Or Aerosmith	Ohhh. Not going to touch that one.
Pop Or Techno	Both.
Rock Or Rap	Both...sometimes.
Guitar Or Drums	Guitar.
Violin Or Harp	Definately Both although I am partial to the violin.
Beach Or Mountains	Beach.
Do You Wear Glasses Or Contacts	Neither.
Sneakers Or Heals	Don't you mean Heels?
Shorts Or Pants	Pants.
Skirts Or Dresses	Both.
Black or White	How about shades of grey?
What's Your Religion	Well, I was Baptised Catholic, without my consent. But what could I do, I was one year old? As of now, Im officially undeclared.
Are You An Idealist?	I suppose so.
Believe In Anarchy Or Communisim?	As a matter of fact, I think they both suck.
Prefer Cold Or Warm Weather	Warm.
Prefer Bath Or Shower	Bath. A very long one...
Prefer Swimming Pool Or Hot Tub	Both, although they're full of bacteria.
One Word To Best Describe You	Nice.
Want To Go To College	Going, but taking a break.
What Occupation Would You Like To Have	Writer.
Would You Want To Be Famous	Sometimes.
If You Were Rich, Would You Donate To Charity	Of course.
Like Sesame Street	Not particularly.
Favorite Disney Character	Beauty.
Favorite TV Show	Smallville! Tom Welling is GORGEOUS!!!!!
Create a Survey Search Surveys Go to bzoink!

2005-03-17T07:13:00.000-05:00

Hey, this is fun...

2005-03-17T07:12:00.000-05:00

Purple is one of my favorite colors:-)

2005-03-17T07:11:00.000-05:00

Sigh.

2005-03-17T07:07:00.000-05:00

Kiss, Kiss.

2005-03-17T07:02:00.000-05:00

Okay, this is what I look like so don't laugh.

Untouchable Face Redux

2005-03-14T05:30:00.000-05:00

One of the really huge problems with our friends, and really with a lot of people at the Villa (restaurant where I work), is that people say a lot of things. We allude to a lot of things. I’m guilty of it too. But, they never say what they truly mean. In fact, too often many people are indulged because we all feel guilty about hurting other people’s feelings when in fact this indulgence really hurts us all in the end.
In reference to my earlier post “Untouchable Face” and now “Elizabeth’s” reply, well…I guess a few things need to be said:

1) Carissa: Enter: Elizabeth. Coming out of a rather tumultuous (and rather stifling on her part) friendship of several years with one person-she immediately latches on to Cassie... Leo keeps getting blown off because Elizabeth seems to have a colossal inability to be alone.
Elizabeth: so apparently i'm a "stifling" friend who "latches on" to people and has an "inability to be alone." well, yes it's true that my last close friend and i don't really hang out anymore. the truth is i don't want a friend who ridicules me, makes me feel like my feelings don't matter, and that every idea i have or everything i say is ridiculous or stupid. does that mean something is wrong with me? i certainly don't think so. i think that my "latch(ing) on" was a pretty mutual thing here.i mean there's no way i would have just thrown myself on someone who didn't want me around. i think "cassie" was just as excited to be friends with me as i was to have such an amazing new friend. as for being "stifling," i guess i just enjoy having a close friendship where i can feel appreciated while showing "cassie" how much i love her. i assumed that that was what friends were for, apparently i was mistaken. if "cassie" was annoyed by mei certainly hope that she would feel she could mention it, and if she couldn't say it in those words i' sure she could have found a way to avoid me without me getting hurt. i know as i have done it myself numerous times. (IF you want to read the rest of this comment go to the comment section under “Untouchable Face”)

I only put down what I observed in your behavior and what I learned from other friends of yours. Your behavior with your previous friend was stifling, and so has your new behavior been with Cassie. Without going into too much detail, do you think spending every day, every night, and nearly all the hours that you work with the same person, -normal or healthy? Even married couples have a little privacy from one another. While we may develop friendships in our lives that retain great value for both parties involved there have to boundaries. Ergo, some nights you stay over-some nights you don’t., and if you are staying over a lot –you contribute, which you and I both know that you did not do a great job of.
However, I will say that errors were made on both sides. When one friend starts slipping up it’s up to the other to call them on the carpet, but because we all feel guilty about such things, even when they happen repeatedly, we stay silent. Even though it’s to neither party’s benefit. That is exactly what led to the friction between the two of you. You were doing some things that were not appropriate for the friendship and your best friend at the time was not willing to call you on it until it reached a boiling point for you both.
You did immediately “latch on” to Cassie as a “best” friend immediately following your fall out with your previous friend, due to, among other things, a promise you did not fulfill. If, for some reason you can’t remember what it was, then you should ask her. I refuse to go into it here. As far as your new friendship with Cassie goes, I’m sure that she was excited to have you as a new friend, and still is. That doesn’t mean that you two don’t rub each other the wrong way some time, and that definitely does not mean that you are not exhibiting many of the same behaviors that you were before which lead to the severing of your last friendship. Don’t believe me? Then talk to Cassie. She’s had no problem informing every one else of these problems,-but you. Why? Because she feels guilty. So, she just let things go.
As to your last comment, there was no way for her to avoid you without hurting your feelings, as we both know what happened on Tuesday and I’m not just talking about the fight. There was a message that was left-the content of which I decline to share. I don’t mean to throw this back into your face, but frankly; I’m tired of things getting blown out of proportion again on all sides. If Cassie had only said what she had needed to say,-as in telling you the truth, things would not have escalated as far as they did on Tuesday night.
A good friendship is built on mutual trust and honesty. You yourself know that you harbor certain feelings toward Cassie due to some of the things she’s said, let others say about you, and choices she’s made concerning your friendship. Yet you both decline to be brutally honest with one another. And while, Cassie says things are “good” for now, she still has to push you to get you to do something’s you should naturally be doing as a friend. And you still have to get on her ass a lot, to understand some things that she shouldn’t be doing as a friend. So neither one is a bad person here- if anything, you both are guilty of extreme negligence. It seems like every time you two get together and talk nothing really meaningful comes out of it, because there you are a few days later complaining to the rest of us about the stupid/mean things the other one is doing. While I don’t mind listening, you two need to solve this equation-that is if you plan on having a good friendship. If not, continue on your present course-for it seems to bring great happiness to you both.
In so far as your “inability to be alone” goes-if you did indeed read my post as you said-then you would know that in no place did I say that you were unable to have friends to ease you from your loneliness-it was not a contradiction. Being single-you should have friends. But again, you keep your friendship’s within certain boundaries which makes the friendships beneficial to you both. That way neither person holds all the power or exercises too much control over the other, and it also puts no strain on people out side the friendship-like roommates or parents. That way if Cassie is being a douche, you can shrug your shoulders, step back from the situation and try to take an unbiased look at the situation-to better solve the problem instead of the damned soap opera that occurs every time there is a fight.
As far as Leo goes-I really have nothing to say about him. All I related was every thing Cassie told me of him. I will say that his obsessive behavior was immature and highly inappropriate for a relationship of a month. He definitely had no grounds for ANY of the comments that he made about you. As far as Richard goes-we both know that he really was not very upfront with her-as the incident at Hudson’s proves, and probably not that interested in a real relationship. A person doesn’t have to like you to fuck you- it’s just a bonus. It seems to me that Cassie probably wasn’t that interested in him either because when she was forced to choose which guy she wanted to be with-she could tell me no good qualities about neither boy-only that Richard was better looking than Leo.
Cassie’s single now? Oh, I don’t think she’s done yet. Leo may be fed up with her right now, and maybe they are truly finished-who knows? Congrats to her if they are. In fact she was just talking about Richard calling her the other day. And, I’m sorry, I must say that you don’t “break up” with someone and then go to the restaurant where they work and have them wait on you the next day. I was witness to that little gem, as I was there. Richard also did say that he would call her as we were getting ready to leave the restaurant. Single? In a manner of speaking. Done? Please.
You know everyone, I’m sorry to all of you if I seem catty in this reply. Maybe I shouldn’t have written this at all. I still like Elizabeth and Cassie. They’re great people. They just drive me nuts sometimes with their antics. But, if you want to say that I’m making you look bad directly or indirectly (on my personal blog no less)-then back it up. Elizabeth made Elizabeth look bad, and Cassie did the same for herself. I only wrote down what I saw, or what I was told from the chief sources. You didn’t have to read this. I didn’t put a gun to your head, push you into a chair, and force you to read anything that I wrote. In fact, disregard this totally if you still feel that it’s unfounded. I really only do this for myself. It’s where I rant. It’s where I work out a lot of the shit that happens in my life. If you don’t like it, then close the window.

"Drinking makes such fools of people, and people are such fools to begin with, that it's compounding a felony."

2005-03-12T05:50:00.000-05:00

Well everyone, just a quick word tonight. You ever do something(s) in life, (it could be anything) and discover that you didn't like it-only to try it again some time later and find that the outcome was still the same?
If your answer was yes keep reading. If not, then fuck right the hell off. Sorry. I guess, I'm cranky. I got a phone call tonight from an old friend who coincidentally met a new friend of mine (that I work with), and (not surprising) the two of them got to talking. In the course of conversation my name came up, and so my old friend decided he would give me a call and see if I'd be willing to come out to a party where said new friend was at.
I thought that it would be a fun surprise so I agreed to go. I wasn't really sure of the intelligence of the decision, but seeing the look on my co-worker's face would be enough to cancel out any doubt. And it was. We entered the house on a throbbing pulse of earsplitting rap music played through speakers that were too small to sustain such a sound. The scene playing itself out before me was a familiar one. I daresay anyone entering a house after any party has started is greeted with a similar one. A small group of people, more female than male, cluttered together on the living room floor- drinks and cigarettes in hand, bumping and grinding to the beat of the music. Various liquor and beer bottles strewn about the kitchen counter, where there are a few more stragglers talking animatedly to each other while taking shots of some of the cheapest and most foul tasting vodka you can imagine. But, hey, if you're under 21, you take what you can get right?
I leaned across the small island of liquor bottles and shot glasses to tap my friend on the shoulder. She stopped talking, and her face grew vibrant with surprise. Her mouth forming into a perfect "o" as her eyes expanded to the size of saucers-she threw her hands up in the air and screamed with perfect abandon. To say she was delighted is an understatement, and I am always happy to make somebody's day. But, after the intial enjoyment wore off and I was able to survey the scene a little better, I began to wonder at my own acumen at decision making.
The whole thing felt rather surreal as I sat on a faded gold couch taking in everything around me. It felt almost like everything had switched into a hyper-accelerated mode, and everyone around me was moving in slow motion. I remembered the girl with black hair half-comatose from drink sitting on the couch. The people dancing around her too engaged in frantically rubbing against each other to see if she was okay. The host of the party with his greasy, but stylishly parted hair. He was visibly drunken, but trying to carry on a ordinary conversation with the equally, if not more intoxicated spastic girl sitting next to him. Their hauteur apparent in every word that spilled out of lips before their brains could evalute what they were saying. Words without boundries or consequences for the speakers. The type of people who think that the world turns, and the seasons shift at their whims alone. The olive skinned boy staring blindly across the table, his mouth slightly open. His eyes opening and shutting very slowly. Almost like a sleeper who has just woken up from a dream. Only he's not really sure if he's awake or still dreaming. I remember the thin brunette with her fiance upstairs asking me to flash her for the tacky beads she wore double looped around her neck. Me, declining with a half-hearted laugh, vaguely wondering if this girl had some lesbianic tendencies or if she was just that drunk. Looking at pictures on the walls of the girls who lived there. Each one more plastic than the next. The girls who lived their lives perpetually in high school. I regarded them with furrowed brow and wondered why girls like these always take so many damned pictures, and realizing that some of the best moments in life can never be captured. Maybe that's why they take so many. Perhaps there is a infinately indescribable something that eludes them in life. Maybe that's their curse. Everything comes with a price...
And I realize that I had paid mine tonight. A friend's happiness (and it was worth it Hil:-) for the realization that I am past all this. This drunken absurdity. I partied a little while I was younger. I never got drunk then, and I didn't do so now. In point of fact, I've never been drunk in my life. But, there was a short time when I put up with people's inebriated pretentiousness, and their rather heighted hedonistic sensibilities. I finally had to draw the line then, and I reaffirmed the reason(s) to redraw that line tonight. Every once in a while in our lives, we need intermittent reminders on the reasons why we chose to turn our backs on certain modes of living. Some people acknowledge these, take the clarification we need from it, and move on. Other's ignore these signs and never change. They never evolve. They never become anything more than what they are now. Indeed, our capacity for change seems to be inverse to our age. That's why some of these people will still be in the same place they were five years from now. To change as we grow older involves giving up certain pieces of ourselves in order to progress. For some people, that's too much to ask. So, I say to you....

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost

Cheers

2005-03-08T03:28:00.000-05:00

Hey all. I guess I don't have too much to say today. Really just dropping a quick line. I'm working on another really big post right now. I don't want to say what it's about, though. I'll just say that I'm gathering information right now and I'm hoping that it will be a good one. Even if it's not, I know you guys will always tell me that it's great. I'm just glad that you all are suportive of my writing. It's my therapy. It keeps me from getting too fucked up in my own head, and I'm just grateful that I have an opportunity to share my thoughts with all of you. So, thanks for listening, or reading as it were. To NikNox-thanks for delving past the latest posts. You framed my thoughts in a way that I couldn't articulate, but I'm glad it's not a dilemma that I'm in alone:) Good things come...well, you know the rest. Thanks again. Cheers.

Liquid Dreams

2005-03-04T23:32:00.000-05:00

Okay, just dropping a short line here. You remember that time when I said that I was going to go to brush my teeth and go to bed? Yeah, that was last night. Didn't happen. As soon as I laid down I remembered that I had to finish this drink rolodex for the bar (Boat Drinks) where I also work. The owner asked me to do it before she went on vacation down to Florida. Yeah, that was three weeks ago-and I of course, in my usual, practical fashion-waited until Five Thirty this morning to remember that I didn't finish it. Eternal Procastinator am I. So, I had to drag my sorry ass out of bed, and spend the next four hours writing out a hundred and ten drink cards-complete with step by step instructions on how to make each drink and it's price. Yeah a hundred and ten different cards. Hand written. In ink. I have to say that it really sucked royally. In fact, it was one of the least favorite things that I've had the displeasure of doing this year. I mean, I don't know why I worry, because it's not like the owner actually paid me to do it. I stupidly volunteered, and after three weeks of procrastination with the return of the Great One imminent- I found myself caught between two scenarios: either 1) Finish the rolodex, and bring it to work where I will not even recieve a thank you for my efforts, or 2) Not finish it. Get bitched at, and have work be a living hell for the rest of the night/week. Well, as you can imagine, I chose door number 2. Now all I have to show for my efforts is an extremely swollen wrist, a screaming headache (probably wasn't helped by that Lambrusco that I had after work), and an extreme case of acute sleep deprivation. So, now that I've greatly improved the stabbing/aching condition of my wrist, I'm going to hit the sack alarmingly early.

Never Sleep Again

2005-03-04T04:55:00.000-05:00

Since I can never seem to get to bed on time anyway, I decided that I would write a quick post before going to bed. It's already Four Thirty AM and I have to be up by Ten Thirty AM-so what's a few more minutes? Sleep is overrated anyway. Oh, who I am I kidding? Sleep is the bomb y'all. It's one of my favorite things. Yes, folks. I have to say that sleep is right up there at the top of the list. Right next to Sliced Bread and Cookie Dough ice cream. In fact, I love sleep so much that instead of going to sleep right now, I've decided to waste a few more minutes NOT sleeping by rambling about how good SLEEP actually is. Shit, I mean why even go to sleep? I'm rather fond of suffering from acute self imposed-feel-like-shit-when-I-wake-up,-in the-morning-yet-feel-the-need-to-complain-to-others-that-I-didn't-get-enough-sleep-so-that's-why-I'm-acting-like-a-bitch-even-though-I-know-it's-my-own-damn-fault-yet-I-continue-to-do-the-same-thing-night-after-night-anyways- sleep deprivation syndrome. Lovely. Well, on that note, I'm heading to bed. Wait, I still have to brush my teeth. Damn. Well, I'm going to brush my teeth, AND then head to bed (in that order), but before I go I must say a rather bleery eyed, but cheerful hello to nx-what is your real name anyway?

Untouchable Face

2005-03-02T07:08:00.000-05:00

*****Here's the part where I'm putting my disclaimer. I don't profess to be an authority on any of the events pertaining to this blog. I'm only going by what was told to me by 1) the person whom all these events center around, and 2) some friend's who were present at the time such events occurred. That being said, I suppose I shall get on with it. Oh, one more thing. The name's were changed to protect the....uh, not so innocent.

Alright, under penalty of death-I'm back. Did you miss me? I'm sure you did. I'm regretfully sorry that it took so long to get up off my ass, but you'll find that violence is a wonderful motivator :-) So, here's my piece for today....

What is wrong with the world today? More importantly, what is wrong with people and the relationships that we form with others? Is it okay to be dishonest? Is it okay to cheat? To be duplicitous? Multiplicitous? Is that even a word? What is it that people say to themselves that make that sort of thing okay? Do they voice that decision to themselves at all? Do they say anything? Or is the justification nothing more than an elaborate self-delusion created so we don't have to admit the wrongness of what we are doing?
I admit, that those are a lot of questions, but I have a friend with whom they are concerned greatly. This friend, (let's call her Cassie) recently came out of a relationship of two years (I think). The gentleman to whom she was engaged-became very insecure due to the fact that that relationship was long distance, and began accusing her of being unfaithful. The accusations began to grow in their ridiculousness until it came to such a point that even going to the grocery store became a subterfuge for cheating.
It got so bad that Cassie felt that she had to lie about where she was, who she was with, and what she was doing- just to avoid a confrontation with him. Eventually, the emotional baggage was more than she could handle, so they broke up. And after their mutual parting, as it so often is the case in many relationships, Cassie's fiance began to pursue her again with a renwed ferocity that came to be obsession. At least, it was in this humble author's opinion. You don't call someone thirty seven times in the space of an hour/hour and a half- unless you have issues. You don't take someone's voice mail number and start checking their messages to see who they're talking to-unless you have issues. You get the picture, right?
So, on the cusp of these event's happening, we have the arrival of a new male on the scene of Cassie's "love life". Let's call him Leo. Leo and Cassie meet at a club, and he seems to be everything that her X is not. He's cute, has a great sense of humor, seems to be very thoughtful, and is one helluva dancer. Overall, he seems to be a great package deal to me- until our lovelorn heroine tells me that the day after they meet he has begun to call and text message her constantly with puppy dog declarations of his affection. Sound familiar? It should. If it doesn't, see the above paragraph.
Well, gentle readers, seeing as your humble author prides herself on possessing a modicum of intelligence served up with a reasonable portion of common sense-I begin to see red flags popping up all over. Isn't this something that you wanted to get away from? "Yes," our beautiful damsel says, "but he's really cute and he dances like Usher." Well, far be it from me to disagree with such high standards, so I merely present my opinion in my Dr. Phil like manner, and try giving him the benefit of the doubt. I remember what it's like to have that initial attraction to someone, and want to spend everyday with them. Although, I didn't necessarily profess my undying affection ad nausem ad infinitum, within less than a 24 hour period....but, hey whatever floats your boat, right? Just take it slow, I advise.
Cassie, like so many of our good friends, (everyone has at least one) decidedly ignores my sage advice and tumbles into a romantic entanglement with Leo (all the while, she's still being harassed by the x-fiance) that has him talking about moving in together and getting married after being together less than a month. Meanwhile, Cassie, seemingly not as serious about Leo as he is about her, admits that if he asked her she "probably couldn't" say no-and maybe rather reluctantly goes to look at rings with Leo.
This leaves me incredulous, and wondering about the state of Cassie's sanity.
Enter: Elizabeth. Coming out of a rather tumultous (and rather stifling on her part) friendship of several years with one person-she immediately latches on to Cassie. Suddenly, they are the best of friends. Inseperable. If you saw Cassie, you knew Elizabeth wasn't that far off and vice versa. Elizabeth, for whatever reason decides that Cassie's home shall become her home, Cassie's bedroom-her bedroom, Cassie's clothes-her clothes. Are we seeing any patterns here, people? And while this causes more than a little bit of irritation on Cassie's part, she decides to let it go due to the fact that she doesn't want to hurt Elizabeth's feelings.
Everything seems to be going decidedly well until the new boyfriend and the bestfriend begin to not get along so well. Each is jealous of the relationship that Cassie has with the other. Elizabeth is tired of getting ditched for the boyfriend. Leo keeps getting blown off because Elizabeth seems to have a colossal inabilty to be alone. To be fair, I have to say that I understand Leo's frustration in trying to form a romantic relationship with someone who's friends are always hanging around. Indeed, how do you build the foundation of a relationship when you can't even talk to your girlfriend?
Several weeks later, matters come to a head and Leo vehemently declares on the phone to Cassie that he hates Elizabeth, which is no surprise to Elizabeth because she reciprocates his feelings. Overhearing the conversation on the phone, Elizabeth decides to use Leo's comment's to her advantage and openly displays to Cassie her hurt in the form of tears and a major guilt trip. Cassie, not knowing what to do, tries for a short period to juggle the two relationships without depriving either one of her presence. Eventually, Carrie and Leo quarrel one evening and "break-up".
Meanwhile, on the backdrop of everything that has been happening the X-fiance still continues to call and harass our protagonist. Finally, following the advice of myself, and many other friend's, Cassie changes her cell phone number. Hurrraaahhhh! Right?
Enter stage left, the next male in our already overcrowded passion play. We'll call him Richard. Richard, is your classic good looking, (so I've heard) tan, womanizing man-boy. I believe that he's known Cassie for some time now, but decides to take a renewed interest in Cassie just before her "break-up" with Leo. Richard tries to convince her that he really has feelings for her. He may have slept with, and broke the heart of two of her friends, but he can change. Cassie makes him want to be different. If she would only give him a chance, she would see.
Now, if you have one half ounce of common sense your bullshit detector is going off right about now. And mine certainly was when our lovely little minx related this information to me. So, I told her as much. "You've finally dispensed with the X, (who had begun calling her parent's home due to the fact that he no longer had her number) you're not even finished with Leo, why would you even consider getting involved with this guy?"
Yes, she tells me, but she thinks she might have feelings for Richard. Besides, Elizabeth says that Leo speaks to her rather harshly and treats her like a little kid. Swallowing down a thousand reproaches on Elizabeth's behalf, I tell Cassie-DUHHHHH! Why wouldn't Elizabeth say that? She'd shoot Leo in the face rather than speak to him, but she'd never say anything bad about him. Come on, Cassie, get with it!
Cassie again acknowledges these things, but says that she also has begun to notice these things, not just because Elizabeth has said them. Cassie sometimes feels that Leo is a little more than mean to her hence her feelings for Richard. Besides, Elizabeth related a rather charming story to her about Richard saying how pretty Cassie looked when she slept and that he was glad that Elizabeth was around to ensure that nothing physical could happen between he and Cassie before it should.
Well, what do you know. Richard has a full deck and know's how to play his cards rather well and it looks like he just played the friendship card with incredible finesse. And once again, if you think like me, it sounds like Cassie and Elizabeth are both getting played. Regardless, Elizabeth tries to play up Richard's virtues and encourages Cassie's separation from Leo.
Confused, Cassie once again request's my advice. I tell her that I really think that she needs to be single. You can't come out of two romantic relationships in such a short time with clear view of what you want and immediately launch yourself into another one. Take a step back and get your breath. Then you can decide what to do. And if Richard is a true gentleman, bent on changing his man-whoreish ways, then he'll wait.
"Yeah, but I can't be alone." she says.
Everyone is afraid of being alone, honey.
That's why you have friends, and while they may not be the cure-all for a bad case of lonliness, they do help. And besides, when you make such a desperate comment like that, it really tells me that maybe you're not being all that discriminate in your choices. It sounds to me like you're settling because you're afraid to be alone. No one wants to hear that you're with them because you're afraid of the alternative. I'd rather be alone than be settled on.
But, if you must hang out with Richard, you should make it clear to him that it's on a friendship basis only. Under no circumstances have sex with him. Again, if he's a gentleman, he can wait. Once again, Cassie thanks me for my advice and goes on her way.
Now, the 64 thousand dollar question is: did she adhere to my advice?
Come on. If she did, I wouldn't even be writing this.
The day after Cassie so urgently sought my advice, I come to find out that our beautiful damsel in distress slept with Richard, called her X-fiance, (who now has her new phone number) and had the intention of going to Leo's house that very night probably for the purposes of sex. Now, when all this started, I thought that Cassie was the victim in all of this. And to some degree she was. No one really asks for the amount of distress her X-fiance heaped on her in the form of harassment. But, once she changed her cell number and her the separation between the X-fiance and herself became more permanent, I think Cassie finally began to miss being pursued. Indeed, she admitted to myself on several occassions that she still loved her X. Then, why are you doing this, I would ask her. She didn't seem to have an answer.
Anyone who has ever been hurt by another person in their life would definately understand my state of mind once these events had been played out and related. If you still have feelings for your X-fiance why would you start a romantic relationship with Leo and a sexual one with Richard? Who do you think you are, that you can manipulate people's feelings in such a way with out regard to the consequences? Although, with Richard, I'm sure that they were both playing each other respectively, but the backlash of that momentary dalliance will reverberate through the previous two.
I begin to suspect that Cassie know's exactly what she's doing and I fear that maybe it will only be a matter of time before she begins to play the three against each other. If Richard manages to hang on that long. Already Leo and the X-fiance have had their verbal confrontations which I'm sure would have escalated into a physical one if the X wasn't in a different state. Again, if you think like me, I think that that is incredibly mean spirited.
Granted, being a woman, I can understand the thrill of having men argue over me. It makes you feel wanted, desired, beautiful. But, even then, it's not worth the emotional Karma you've just racked up for yourself. And Karma is a bitch.
I don't profess to be a relationship expert, and I am not an expert on the events of this narrative. I'm only writing what I know. Some things may be more accurate, other's may not. I'm only wondering what it takes in people's minds to justify the emotional manipulation of others. Does Carrie acknowledge that this is in fact what she has done in the end? Is guilt even a minor presence in her mind? Does she immediately quash those feelings the moment that they arise because she is ashamed of what she has done? And to outwardly admit that she has played a reckless game would simply be too much humiliation to bear?
Please believe me when I say that Cassie is not a bad person. She's a bright, spirited, beautiful young woman, who truly is good at heart. She's just not making some sound decisions right now. And in no way do I believe that the blame for all of this rests squarely on her shoulders, although she does shoulder a good deal more than the rest of them do. And rightly so.
In no way do I assume that no one else in the history of humanity has behaved in such a manner. I can truly say for myself that I haven't. If you feel that I'm judging her harshly, then I'm sorry. Because I believe you're wrong. Nowhere in this blog did I state that she was a horrible person, a slut, a whore, a liar, or anything of the like. Indeed, like I said before she's a great person. She just wants to have her cake and eat it too. But, that's the thing about having your cake and eating it too-if you make the slightest mistake you usually end up with neither. And who wants to risk something important for a silly piece of cake?(*)

*The last two statements were taken from Scrubs, one of the greatest tv shows on the planet. If you don't watch it -start. It may not seem like it, but it does give some great insights into human behavior.

Deprived

2005-01-16T06:40:00.000-05:00

For the last three weeks I've been suffering from a rather acute case of sleep deprivation that's unfortunately self imposed. I find myself not wanting to sleep lately for some reason. Whether it be staying up late chatting up my friends, reading a book, listening to music-whatever. It's actually starting to take it's toll on me finally. My skin has gotten really pale, which is a rather remarkable feat considering that I'm half black. My hair seems dull, parched, and lifeless. There is definately no denying those dark circles under my eyes. My eyes? Well, my eyes always look the same no matter what. They're rather strange actually. If you quickly glance at them, they seem black. Colorless. Empty. If you slow down a moment to regard them, they still look black-only they have this strange brown sheen that rests on top of the iris. If you shine direct light on them they're a rather disturbing light-ashy-brown-chocolate shade. My eyes are changeable, but constant. Like people.
People are interesting these days. It's amazing how you go back and forth, making new friends and rediscovering old ones. It's funny how you interact with some people nearly every day of your life, but never really bother to get to know them, and when you do you're blown away. You wonder to yourself how you really could have been missing out on this person for so long. It's almost sad realizing you've come into the game so late, you never know when a person like that is going to leave you-for whatever reason. Although, it's better to get in the game late, as opposed to not getting in it at all.
It's also amazing to me how many people notice you when you're not aware of it. I've never really thought of myself as a remarkable person, or even memorable outside of my small circle of friends. I definately don't have a face that's anything special, so I'm always taken aback when people come up to me and say: "Hey, aren't you...." It's just strikes me as funny when you're so focused inward that you don't notice what's on the outside. Not that I'm oblivious to people. Hardly. I collect them, their faces, or their words-even if I've never seen them before. People interest me-so maybe it's really that I'm to busy focusing outside of myself that I never really see the things in front of me. Too busy looking up, when I should be looking straight ahead.
Sometimes I wish that life came with a handbook:-)
Then, I stop and realize that life would hardly be the uproarous joy that it is if we got to read everything out of an instruction booklet. So, I stumble along like I'm trapped in a pitch black room with a dim flashlight. Sometimes things are terrifyingly clear and other times they're extremely blurry. I get brief bursts of illumantion here and there, but they go out as quickly as a snuffed candle, and I'm left with the sickening smell of burnt wax.

Sign Posts

2005-01-05T06:25:00.000-05:00

It's late and I'm tired. Yet once again I find myself awake at three am. I've always felt like three am is the true midnight. There is a stillness that exists at three in the morning that never seems to be there at any other time. It's a great time for pondering...
Tonight I've been thinking a lot about the future. I mean, knowing the future. Not knowing in the sense of actually knowing. Well, maybe sometimes. Wouldn't it be nice to see at least a glimpse of it? To actually feel a sense of purpose? I've always felt like I'm here for a reason. I'm here to do something. I just don't know what that is yet. I'm not saying that I want everything mapped out for me. I just want a few signs to point me in the right direction. Something-anything that will make me feel a little less like I've been floating around without any direction in my life. It's not that I don't have things that I want to do. There's plenty of things I want to do and I'd like to do nearly everything on that long list. I just wish I knew what direction to take off in first...

Illegal

2005-01-02T06:47:00.000-05:00

Hello, it's me again folks. I was going to see if I could write a somewhat meaningful post on how the world tends to be a drag, but somehow I've lost my drive by thinking about the whole thing too much. It's made me rather morose. So, I'm going to sleep on it. Eventually, I'll come up with the right words to express what I'm feeling right now. It just wont be tonight, I guess.
I just hope that everyone had a good new year's, even though I think that it should be ILLEGAL to have two holidays in one month. But, hey, that's just me:-)
Also-KUDOS to my buds ASHLEY and ANDREA for actually having the BALLS to drop me a line by leaving a comment. It means A LOT that you guys appreciate my writing, and that you take the time to read it. So, bless you both-you're truly beautiful. Hopefully, if I ever start living a real life, someday I can return the favor.
To everyone else-YOU SUCK:-(
Just kidding. But, hey, would it cost you anything to leave me a message and let me know I'm doing a good job here?
Well, that's it for me tonight. I love you all-the villa crew, the scoobies, and anyone that I can't (or wont) categorize for one reason or another-I wish you all the best this year. Have fun and stay away from Strawberry Champagne.

Hi, My Name is Joe

2004-12-29T04:55:00.000-05:00

No, he doesn't have a wife and three kids (I hope). And he definately doesn't work in a button factory. No, our Joe from the Villa is a special one. Now, by special I don't mean special-like you would tell your children that they are special. No. Joe is special as in rides the little yellow school bus to school- with a touch of special olympics special. Add a dash of normality to that and you're all set.
Now, I'm not being mean here. This is just the way that Joe is, and if you ever spoke to him you would know what I mean. When you first meet Joe-you're really unsure about him. He's 24 years old. Kind of a tall guy(but then everyone is tall to me-I'm five feet tall). About medium build. Although, his biceps are kind of large-and he has this huge beard. The beard is so much a part of him that he looks fucking scary without it. He's kind of quiet, reserved, and he almost puts out this creepy feeling vibe until he opens his mouth. Then, you realize that he's mostly harmless.
And the things that he says! Some classic Joe phrases include: 1)"Could Be" 2)"It's not MY JOB" and my personal favorite: "NO!!". So, if at anytime in the near future you're working at the Villa and you ask Joe for a 2 bread and he says:"could be"- say nothing. Just take the bread, and leave shaking your head in vague misunderstanding.
So, why, do you ask, am I writing about my friend Joe? Well, I ended up taking a short break from writing due to the holiday season being so hectic, and I had several people tell me to update my damn blog because they like to read it. So....eh voila! I had a novel idea about doing a short peice every now and again about those nearest and dearest to my heart:-) So, if you find that you're being immortalized in my blog- don't get mad. I mean, if I write about something, or make a comment that you aren't too fond of.... don't think that I don't like you or that I'm mad at you(unless I say that I'm PO'd). I don't really sincerely NOT like anybody. We'll that's not ENTIRELY true.... But, if I didn't really like you-I probably wouldn't write about you unless you REALLY pissed me off.
Now, that that is out of the way, why did I choose Joe for tonight's subject. Well, last night at work, Joe just began to annoy me in a way that he hasn't before. But, not entirely in a bad way because Joe irritates everyone. He annoyed me to the point that I thought: "Perfect. Im just going to write about him tonight because everything he does is fucked up to the point of hilarity."
What do I mean about fucking up being hilarious? Well, that would be the little things that Joe does. Like taking three different sauce pans, cooking in them, and then instead of walking two feet over to the dish washer-he decides to put one pan on the floor underneath the rack of clean dishes. Then, he takes the other two puts them in a open space on the same dish rack on top of the large salad platters, turns the handles inward, puts a dish rag in front of them, and hopes no one will see them.
So, at eleven o' clock at night when I'm trying to shut everything down, I notice that the large salad platters are sticking out at an odd angle. When I try to adjust them, can't, and find those two pans sitting there with cheese clam sauce scorched on to the bottom of them like it's never going to come off-I get SERIOUSLY annoyed. Now, by this time, Joe has already gone home for the night. Thus, I have to vent my anger at him somehow so I shout to whoever can hear me: "Joe! What the hell is this? I'm going to fucking KILL that kid!". This provokes a torrent of laughter from Lacey(actually, his real name is mitch, but we always call him Lacey or Max-don't ask) who laughs himself into silence as he stops to think how old Joe is. "Wait, how old are you?" he asks me. "I'm 22," I reply. This prompts more hilarity from him as he blurts out admist his laughter," Joe is older than you!"
Wow, I think. Then, I feel a rather evil grin spreading across my lips as I come to the conclusion that Lacey, and his charming ability to restate the obvious might be up next for dissection.

"Excuse me, do I have 'Fuck Me' written on my forehead?"-Cocktail

2004-12-16T16:40:00.000-05:00

I think the title pretty much says it all. I've been wondering if I have this emblazoned across my forhead lately. It is not my intent to sound vain in this post. It just seem like lately, these really nasty men have been hitting on me all the time, and I've begun to think that maybe there is something wrong with me. With the way I look. Like is there something about me that just screams "whore"?
At least once a week I work in a bar. I know, this girl is complaining about being hit on, and she works in a place where hundreds upon hundreds of women get hit on every night, right? Yeah, well blow me. I work in a small establishment. We're lucky if we get ten people a night in our bar. Really pathetic, and a damn waste of space if you ask me. But, I don't own it. I just work there.
Getting back to the point though, lately there seems to be a rash of really nasty (although not always old) men drifting through our bar, and all the ones that I come across react to me in exactly the same way. Each one has a different pick-up line, but the message behind it remains the same. Basically, these upstanding gentleman would like to take me home-or to whatever hovel they are residing in at the moment. If that sounds bitchy-it should. I'm not a whore. I'm not just going to pickup with some stranger, especially ones TWICE my age. I mean, as some men get old-do they generally feel like their life has gone down the shitter, so they need something young to make them feel alive? Make them feel like they have a purpose other than to go to work and support their wives and children? They need something to make themselves feel like they will not sink any further into that inevitable mediocrity that we call life?
Sound Bitchy? It is. I'm tired of these men thinking that they can invite me to hotel rooms regardless of the fact that either one or both parties involved are in a relationship. It makes me feel disgusted with 1.) the way that I look and 2)it makes me feel that I'm not worthy of being pursued. It's like the way that I look automatically labels me somehow as something good enough to fuck, but not good enough to keep around. It's like the old boyfriend in highschool who was the sweetest thing to you when his friends WEREN'T around. I feel like the dirty magazine that gets tucked between the mattress-good enough to whip out when the girlfriend isn't home, but easily forgotten about the moment she returns.
I'm sick of being treated like shit by nearly every male that I've come across- in my past and in the present-even ones that profess to be my friends. All my life, I've been treated like the other woman. A guilty pleasure. Not good enough to date, but good enough to fuck. I don't rate any higher on a lot men's lists, and I don't understand why. Is it the way that I talk? I thought I was always rather articulate. The way that I dress? I don't dress any more provacative than any other girl these days-if I even go out. Most times you'll see me in crumpled gym clothes, all disheveled and sweaty-either that or the potato sack they like to call a uniform at the hell hole where I work.
I'm really not very different on the surface than any other girl-so what gives guys the right to treat me like I am undeserving of respect?

Hyped Up, Puffed Up, Overvalued, Overestimated-Relationships Are Just Overrated

2004-12-14T06:08:00.000-05:00

Well, Im not quite sure how to begin tonight's post. There is a lot of ground that I would like to cover. I'll have to start by saying that today didn't start out that great, but it ended rather well and I haven't had more fun in a really long time.
On Sunday's and Monday's, I manage the kitchen of the restaurant where I work. I lord over a crew of 16-20 year olds-and even though I'm only 22 years old myself, sometimes I really begin to feel my age. Don't get me wrong, all the kids( they're not really kids, but I just refer to them like that) I work with are really sweet, good, people. It's just that some of the things they do or say-I just don't understand it.
Take my friend Nikki, for instance. A short time ago, she met a guy at one of the casino's that we have near town, they exchanged phone numbers, and got together this weekend. He's 23, she's 18. Now, you would think that in a normal...courtship (I guess you could call it that) that you would gradually get to know each other before you do anything else. Right? Apparently not. These two were fooling around (mind you, they didn't have sex) faster than you could say bigmac-w/cheese. So, then this very same girl, turns to me today at work and says: "But, I don't wanna call him or talk to him too much too soon because I want to make sure that our friendship develops gradually."
Now this strikes me as rather comical. "You just told me that you've already been naked in front of the guy, messed around with him even-and you're worried that your that your FRIENDSHIP will get off on the wrong foot?!?!".
Nikki laughs at the joke made at her expense and casually says: "Yeah, well, taking off my shirt-that means nothing to me."
"Shouldn't it?" I ask. She merely laughs at me. Maybe I am out of the loop, I think silently. Being in a six year relationship-I haven't actually dated anyone new. So, I begin to wonder if that's the way that most relationships-if you can call them relationships in the beginning-start. And is that a better way to start things-by getting rid of most of the physical tension first-then get to know each other later?
I ask her if she thinks it's a really smart decison to be messing with this guy now, when she really doesn't know much about him. She tells me that's why she intends to take the friendship slow, because she doesn't want too get attatched too soon. But shouldn't being physical necessitate an attachment? I mean, okay, they haven't had sex yet, but shouldn't there be some sort of attachment-on however small a level? Or does physicality have no bearing on a relationship that begins in such a way?
From talking to a lot of people these days, I am beginning to think that the answer is no. And is that a bad thing? Not necessarily. If that's the way you choose to live your life AND you're happy with it-more power to you. But, as you look back down the road at past relationships, do you notice a lot similarites? Was the duration of a lot of those relationships the same? The reasons for separation comparable?
Again, from talking to people in my own little corner, the answer seems to be yes. Wouldn't it follow logically again that by beginning relationships from a physcial standpoint is perhaps not the best course of action? Don't you eliminate a lot of the mystery and the chase of pursuing someone? Could that be the reason why so many relationships seem to fizzle out before they've even really begun, because you've already crossed a bridge that should have been crossed with at least some trepidation and inscrutability? How much do we sacrifice in our relationships by giving that away too soon?
Now, I'm not going to sit here and preach about how sex can wait, blah, blah, blah. If you're ready to have sex, or if you're having sex already with or without a relationship and you're happy-more power to you. All I'm saying is that maybe sex should wait for a little while. I'm not saying a year. I'm not even saying six months. But, instead of rushing into everything in the first week, and giving up all the mystery...maybe it would be more prudent to wait for a short time.
Or, is the answer simply that the human species is not meant to be monogamous? Do we all get the "old cow" syndrome? Once we feel that we know something so well, is it time to move on? Do we all begin to feel bored and trapped? Is that supposed to be the natural way of things?
Well, I don't profess to have the answer to any of these questions, I can only wonder. Maybe some of us are simply not hard wired for monogamy. Does it mean that we love the ones that we are with any less? I don't think so. I mean, if you look around you see that there are people all over the world that are engaged in polyamorous relationships. What are polyamorous relationships? Basically,they are relationships in which people have more than one partner for whatever reason-sexual, emotional,-or both. Each person is aware of the other, and as I stated before, many people engaged in such relationships are in them for a rather long time.
Is that a better way to go about it? I don't know. But, having talked to a lot of my friends that have gotten bored very quickly in their own relationships, been cheated on, or even did the cheating themselves-it would seem that maybe this is something that should be considered. Although, once a decision like that is made, it opens a whole new kettle of fish. The number one problem would, of course, be jealousy. How do you deal with that? I couldn't even begin to fathom. Relationships with only two people are a mind fuck and a half on a regular basis. I couldn't imagine what it would be like dragging two or three other people in the mix.

Of Course! How Selfish of me, Lets go do ALL the things that YOU WANNA DO.

2004-12-12T06:00:00.000-05:00

It's late. I'm tired. I only got three hours of sleep today, and I feel myself steadily being sucked down into that black vortex of dreamless sleep. Yet for some reason I keep struggling against it, I'm just not ready to go yet. So, I figured that I would muse (semi-lucidly) over today's events.

The boy is mad at me right now because I wouldn't go to bed at the same time as him. I simply didn't want to. Nothing personal against him. I just feel like writing. Which of course, I kind of fibbed and said that the reason I wanted to stay up was because I was looking for x-mas presents. It wasn't a fib...totally. I have a second window open to shopping websites and I have every intention of looking for x-mas presents when I'm done, unless I feel really tired. In which case I probably wont look for x-mas presents after this...in which case...I guess I totally fibbed.

It wouldn't be so bad if he didn't give me such a hard time about writing when it cuts into what he believes is his time. He only works four hours a day, unless it's a weekend. On average, I work eight hours-unless I'm waitressing. Thing is, he gets done with work at seven thirty EVERY night no matter what so he has all those hours to sit at home spending time doing the things that he wants to do. Then, when I get home, he figures that I should have to do what he wants to do. And frankly, the last thing that I wanna do when I get home from work is go jump into bed with him. I mean, forgive me, if that sounds terrible, but I have to have a certain amount of time to myself after I just gave a bunch of it away to everybody else.

I've tried explaining it to him before, and he just doesn't get it. Believes I'm just being selfish. That I'd rather do other things than spend time with him. I mean, if you wanna look at it that way-yeah it seems like I'm being selfish. But, the motivation behind it-it isn't selfish at all. I'm just the sort of person that needs to have some time every day to do the things that I feel are necessary-like reading, writing, listening to music, or drawing. It's like, I get this build-up of excess energy that needs to run off somehow-and if I can't do any of those things I start feeling pent up. I start getting angry. I irritate more easily. I even start feeling resentful if I go for a really long time without.

But, he just doesn't understand it that way. For him, it's almost like he'd rather see it as an insult against himself. Thing is-IT'S NOT ABOUT HIM. It has NOTHING to do with him. It's about ME. About the person that I am. It's a need I have that will NEVER change. I just have to have somethings in life that truly belong to me alone.Those two hours I spent in the bathtub reading-those were MINE. That hour I spent dancing around the apartment with music blaring through the 200 dollar speakers-that was MINE. The 45 minutes I spent wandering around Park Cemetary like a ghost-THOSE 45 MINUTES WERE MINE. They had absolutely nothing to do with you-they never will.

Too Polite

2004-12-11T16:00:00.000-05:00

So, I was supposed to be at this Birthday lunch for my friend Robin about a half hour ago. My mom called me at ten this morning and I-after less than four hours of sleep-was (and still am) extremely fucking crabby. No matter what my mother does she just cant seem to be on time for anything. And for me, being woke up early for something only to end up not going there is an extreme source of irritation.

It's nearly one and I'd like to just go take a shower. As if standing underneath the shower head, feeling the water beat down on my skin, will somehow wash away my frustration. But, I know that the minute I go to do that, my mother will be knocking on my door. And though I'm not even interested in going to this birthday thing after being nearly a half an hour late, I'll probably go-just to be polite.

Which brings me to my major problem. I am WAY too polite. Do nice people have their own special little corner in heaven? Is that why I do it? To keep from going to hell? Do I want everyone to think well of me? So, that when they hear my name being mentioned they'll think "That Carissa, there's a nice girl"? Answer: Yes I want everyone to think that I'm nice. So, I have this colossal inablility to say no-to nearly everyone and it's really stretching me out.

The obvious solution to this problem-obviously would be to start saying NO to people, but along with that word "No" comes this enormous guilt. If there is anyway to get past that guilt please let me know. Because I just haven't found it yet.

Feeling Jaded

2004-12-11T06:03:00.000-05:00

Tonight, has been an interesting night to say the least. I haven't been writing anything lately, to tell you the truth. It's starting to make me feel physically ill. I always felt more mentally and physically stable when I was writing steadily in school, so I've decided to take it up again. Im sitting on my incredibly shitty futon, listening to Evanescence, trying to sort my thoughts out into something that will make sense.

I woke up this morning with some sort of incredible expectation that something good was going to happen. I didn't get to sleep in as much as I would have liked and I most certainly could have gone back to sleep, but I decided not to. After much wandering around the apartment and sporadic fits of instant messaging, I took a shower. Huddling in that tiny little stall that somehow passes for a shower, I thought about all the things that I'd like to do, but didn't really have any intention of doing.

I wanted to start on that short story that I'd been meaning to write for months (yeah right). It's actually a really good idea, I just can't seem to get motivated. Will I ever get motivated? Speaking as someone bordering on the brink of exhaustion right now-probably not. I can't even get motivated to wash my damn dishes-let alone try to work out the mechanics of good story telling.

So that was out. Next on the list-Clean up the living room. I actually got to the point where i got a trash bag out and started picking misc. junk up off the floor. But after about five minutes the motivation died.

Okay, well maybe I'd just listen to some music, but today I couldn't seem to find a song to fit my state of mind. You know how you have your days where you just have one song that's kind of like your mission statement for the day, week, whatever. And you just keep listening to that one song ad infintim because it seems so right. Or maybe somebody pissed you off and since you don't have the guts to actually tell the person what you're thinking you just post the lyrics on your away message hoping they get the message. And maybe they do have a vague, niggling reaction to the implied meaning behind the song, but will they ever admit it? Probably not.

Today my mind has been all over the place. It's movements have been increasingly erratic. Jumping from one subject to the next, one person to another. Did my mother find someone to work in the bar tonight? Maybe I should call her back?Is Phil going to be in a good mood when he gets home? Nikki is supposed to call at nine. I wonder if Sean is going to crap out on me? I wish they would just kill Sammy on Days, the show is becoming as ridiculous as passions. Man, Gerard Butler is sexy, I can't wait to see that new Phantom movie. And round and round she goes, boys and girls. Round and Round she goes.

I went to the mall hoping to occupy my time. I bought a hat and gloves for my brother Ian for Christmas. I know he has forsaken such necessites in the interest of other monetary needs. I'm not as bad off as he is, so I tried to be a good sister and do something nice for my younger brother-this way he doesn't have to waste his money simple things.

Leaving the mall it began to snow. You know, the wet kind that never sticks. I drove to Target, bought some pretty eye shadow for myself and returned home.

Sean still wanted to hang out. Surprised the hell out of me. I kept waiting for him to back out on me. I thought hm maybe he has grown up a little. So, I went to change clothes. I had to have a new shirt. Something mildy sexy, nothing too showy though. Wouldn't want anyone to stare. You know THE stare. The stare you give the girl who walks into a room wearing the outfit that you wanted to wear, but that you just didn't have the guts to. You think "slut" while inside you're wishing that you had the confidence to go out in public wearing that.

I picked out the black, backless, fringy top with two ties that comes down to my belly button. Added my favorite pair of jeans-the 77's. The ones that ride almost indecently low on my wide, wide hips. Somehow they manage to make my abdomen look attractive. Threw on the black hoody with the pink butterfly, put the khaki blazer over that, pulled the hair back. Add a little eyeshadow, liner, lipgloss and I'm ready to go. Dressed to kill? Maybe. Being in a long term relationship is beginning to make me feel like I don't have the right to look good anymore. As if being sexy is something I needn't feel because no one else should look at me that way.

Fuck It. Let them Look. Tonight I feel like a little self-affirmation is just what the doctor order. I can still pull it off. I can still be considered hot. Or at the very least pretty....can't I?

So, I walk out the door with a mild feeling of trepidation that I can't place. I get in his car, silently wondering what the night will bring, and we take off. I don't even remember the direction we drove. We start with the normal small talk, trying to re-establish a familiarity with the lives we've known nothing about for the last year. How's work? How's school? All the mundane questions that we all somehow need in order to reach the conversations that we really want to get to.

I hear myself talking and silently wince inside. Am I babbling? I should shut up. I sound totally neurotic. He's going to think I'm Psycho. Shut up, Idiot!! I smile in the dark, turning my face to the window as I listen to him talk. This is good, I think. Finally, some mildly intelligent discourse. He seems to have aged a bit since I last saw him. Not so sad anymore-at least it seems that way. Really who isn't depressed today? And I don't mean that you have to be diagnosed to suffer from depression. We all have it in some form or another. Comes with the territory, I suppose. Stemming from the realization that at the end of it all we are alone. In our heads. Stuck in this incredibly, unreliable, mortal shell. Alone. Until we die. Every last one of us.

We stop over at Sean's new apartment. Typical college fare. Typical college boys? Do typical college boys come up with things like the "abortion stick" or leave dirty pictures on a roommates computer and blame it on someone else? I meet the friends. Watch Dave Chapelle. Learn that Bob is the messy one, which I NEVER would have thought in a million years. I learn that Bill is pretty funny when he's drunk, and that Jeremy Cannon's little brother Steven(Steven?) has a bad case of the "lady doth protest too much" when it comes to homosexuality.

Eventually, we leave and drive around in endless loops and circles for what seems like hours. We see the waves crashing up over the rocks. Sean points out some houses he's partied at. I talk about the Scooby Gang (I remember now: Buffy,I got it from Buffy). I talk about old friends. Eating Disorders. Being Gay. We pass his sexually frustrating girlfriend on the street and listen to his cell phone ring a few times when she calls. Probably wondering why he didn't stop. Did she see me? Vaguely, I wonder if I'm being used to make someone jealous. And vaguely, I wonder if I really care. Do I? I don't.

He asks the inevitable question. How are we? I don't know. Am I making it sound worse than it is? Maybe. Then again, maybe not. There are moments of incredible happiness in our relationship. And moments of great agitation as well. Remember: the hat. " I can't forgive him for any of it, deep down," I say with heaviness in my heart. I realize I am such a fool and my mind screams at me silently to shut my mouth BEFORE you make a fool out of your self. But the words come tumbling out anyway. Non-sensical, irrational. I skirt around the edges not wanting to say too much-I know he can sense it, but I do it anyways.

So, I try to bounce the focus of the conversation. Not trying to spend too much time on me. I ask about his girlfriend. How they met. He finally tells me the stupid thing he did last night. I didn't ask (see I've grown up too). We talk about WANT verses HAVE. How being able to lie to yourself a little, the thrill of that near miss-is better than actually hitting the target dead on.

"You need a vacation." he says. "Impossible," I say. Why? One answer: The Villa. Enough said. Do I sound really sad? I wonder. I don't mean to. I'm really not. Just confused I suppose. At 22 I should have everything figured out, right? I know that the answer is no, but normally I'm the most together person that I know and lately I just can't figure out what I want. And that bothers me. Everything seemed to be so clear cut. So black and white. As the I get older and the days go on I realize that NOTHING is. The black has bled into the white to create alarming shades of grey. The light has broken into many colors. Should I have the ability to discern them all now? The fact that I can't anymore is what bothers me the most. I'm failing to figure MYSELF out. Either that or I'm just a coward. A coward that can't admit what she think she wants. Scared to suffer the consequences should it go sour. Trying to force myself to be complacent in my own little corner of the world, and learning that this corner is turning out to be way too small.