OW!

Are you trying to hurt me?

Don't tell me you all have lives and that's why you're not blogging.

I've done my part. I commented on all of your newest posts (twice, some of you), I updated both of mine, and I am entertaining and I love you. (that's my part.) I don't even have a computer. Qu'est-ce fuck is your excuse.

Missing you is worse when I have to e-miss you too.

Ease my pain, friends.

Revenge

Okay, so I know we all do it. Well, I know I did it...do it still. I fake sick, like all the time. But I never faked sick to people, just bosses. And to get out of school. That's no big deal.

But don't fake sick to people, to your family. That's just dumb.

I didn't believe her. I knew, I knew she was faking it--it takes one to know one. And her grandma bought it, hook, line and centre. (ps, I don't know what that expression means.) She was pampered like a princess and got everything she wanted. And I seemed cruel for not really sympathising. Sure enough, half an hour later, she was FINE. No, not fine, jumping and screaming with irritating joy.

This is punishment. I know it. All my old bosses called Switzerland and made sure they found me a girl who fakes sick and gets away with it.

I Can Only Tell You!

I miss Canada.

I miss Gilmore Girls.

I miss other TV.

I miss my bed.

I miss my mom.

I miss peanut butter.

I miss Tequila.

I miss Crews.

I miss the Mermaids.

I miss Barrie.

I miss Newmarket.

I miss the Vic.

I miss Randolph.

I miss my kitchen.

I miss my cat.

I miss my PJs.

I miss eggs for breakfast.

I miss chinese food.

I miss flat land.

I miss straight roads.

I miss not 9-5.

I miss unconventional.

I miss the possibility of drugs.

I miss English.

I miss Korea Town.

I miss the VM.

I miss daily freedom.

I miss the movies.

I miss hanging out.

I miss performing.

I miss you.

...

Having said all that:

I like mountains.

I like cheese for dinner.

I like walking everywhere.

I like hot chocolate.

I like new movies.

I like petting zoos.

I like French.

I like friendliness.

I like travel opportunities.

I like people watching.

I like castles.

I like christmas in the air.

I like my big room.

I like the crows.

I like weird crowds.

I like stunts.

I like my heart growing fonder.

I like letters.

I like baby smiles.

I like my advent calendar.

I like blogs.

I like free weekends.

I like writing.

I like my new scarf.

...

I hope that's enough to last me a year.

Chocolat

As I mentioned in a comment on Skinny Rabbit's blog, I am completely sick of being in the audience. Oh how I miss the stage.

Oh yeah, also, I want to act with Johnny Depp. Why can't I? Who the fuck is Keira Knightly, and why the fuck does she get to act--make out with--Johnny Depp?!?

(this all feels familiar...have I blogged this before?)

Anyway, Keira can suck my balls. It's my turn to make out with Johnny Depp. I'm older than her--which is the most depressing thought in the world. This age thing.

But one of the people I wanna be is Catherine Zeta-Jones (started with Zorro! got to do a movie musical...) and she didn't get a movie until she was 27. Now I'm not as gorgeous as Catherine Zeta-Jones, I'm not as young and skinny as Keira Fucking Knightly, but I decide I have a chance. So, the age I will kick ass and, like, get something is 25. That kills me, as I wanted it to be 18. At the oldest 22. Why am I already 23? It's okay, it's okay, 25 is the age. It's happening. I have nothing else to do.

A few unrelated side notes:

1) Yesterday was my half birthday. Nobody cares about their own half birthday, let alone mine, but I still like to at least recognise that I'm a half a year older. I used to make my mom acknowledge the day with a special dessert or something. I thought about that yesterday, and sure enough, she sent me a "Happy Half-Birthday love, Mommy" email. Best mom ever.

2) I'm listening to the South Park Christmas CD and I'm so freaking cheerful you could hang me on your tree.

3) Miss Pants is officially my favourite blog commenter. Sorry to those of you who thought you were in the running. She takes the cake (though I THOROUGHLY appreciate and love the rest of your comments too). Thanks Miss Pants!

4) I just watched Chocolat. If you don't love that movie, you need to repent.

ack! Thppth!

I know I seem totally bi-polar-y like all the time, but then, everone is, if you go by blogs.

I'm better now...I'm meeting a guy from a band for drinks tonight, to see if I can be in his band!

I'm super excited to a) be among grown ups, b) go aaaaoooouuut tonight, c) talk about music and stuff and d) not sit in my room and be a fuck up.

I used to be president of the fuck up club but I'm giving it up (I say this all the time) (he does this every friday--what's that from?) to become an accomplished...um...human being. or something.

Now, I'm going to do dishes.

Reading Makes Me Write

I've been wanting to blog this:

It was supposed to be different.
It's the same.

I've been looking for familiarity; I got it. Recently, in a good way--A couple of British men with their little boy at the park speaking English and not being awkwardly polite like everyone else in this town. But mostly, it's just that there is nothing here you can't get at home.

It was flushed out in my mind, the gay couple and the shopping stories. They are pretty boring now, I guess, but I think they get my point across. Anyway, today, I wrote this in my journal:

You know how time...moves? It moves differently at different times. (I don't think I'm a genius for figuring this out, I just think I'm lame for the way it happens to me.)

Here's what that thought brings to my mind:

Just now, after doing yoga for 30 seconds, I thought "wow, this feels good," but I also thought "yeah fucking right I'm gonna do this for longer." The voices of made up yoga instructors were saying "5 minutes for a sun salutation, breathe, take it slow," and "surely 5 minutes out of your day will go unnoticed!" (who talks like that?) But in the first 30 seconds of the five minutes, it's not unnoticed. It's a huge fucking hindrance. I'm not spending 12 times the time I just spent on that. (I can do it in a class for an hour and a half. It's on my own that I have problems.)

Also:

Almost every time I brush my teeth, I remember my grade 1 competition with Michelle; Who Brushed Their Teeth Longer This Morning? "I brushed for 3 minutes this morning, I counted." I lied every single morning. It's embarrassing to admit you don't clean your teeth like you're supposed to. But I brushed! I brushed until there was nothing on my teeth which was always the same time I got bored. Why in the world would I brush longer than that? (now I know that there's serious stuff under the obvious stuff but I have an electric toothbrush--3 minutes of that in my mouth is completely ridiculous.)

Also:

Chewing. We're supposed to chew, what 34 times per bite? No way! What are you eating that you can't swallow after 20 chews? Have you ever counted? You'll be swallowing AUTOMATICALLY at 12, 17 tops. Shouldn't you just do what your body tells you?

The problem is, I'm always wishing I could be on to the next thing, and I'm always pining for the last thing. The last bite was so good, why didn't I savour it? I'd rather be brushing my teeth in the bathroom in my sweat pants than on the bus. And I certainly love yoga.

When I'm reading, yeah, I'm comfy, but I wanna go out. I need human contact and I feel like I should. When I'm out, I wish I wasn't spending money.

Other than friendship, the only thing that is not a waste of time is performing and art.

Since there are no friendships here, I need to perform.

Then I read Nick Hornby for a bit (which I reccomend, all of it) and went to the bathroom and then wrote this:

I'm getting fat.
My breasts look fabulous in this shirt.

Those are the two things I note when I look in the mirror.
(Maybe the latter is directly influenced by the former?)

But will my lovely, fat, perfect breasts distract me from the fact that my eyes look tired and sad? The fact that my second chin is getting significantly bigger? The fact that I'm too lazy to pluck my eyebrows or put on mascara? (don't underestimate the seriousness of laziness.) The fact that my hair is still in limbo?

Will my beautiful necklace and well dressed upper body distract me from the oversised cut-off second-hand red sweat pants on my devastatingly overgrown thighs?

No.

Well, maybe the good things are a small consolation--but the question is "what does it matter?"

No one here cares what I look like. There are no boys I want to impress, no connections that seem makable.

What's worse--No one to look good for, or the inevitability of looking bad if there were someone?

I'm not sad because I'm alone.
I'm sad because I'm not making any friends.

I'm not sad because I'm fat.
I'm sad because I'm not getting thin.

I'm not sad that I'm babysitting.
I'm sad that I'm not performing.

It's the "not" that makes me sad.

I always do this. Or I guess, I always don't.

But then I had the beautiful hope of Switzerland.

It was supposed to be different.
It's the same.

I looked at my journal and thought. I added:

I was supposed to be different.
I'm the same.

That's Right Mothafucka

Okay, I totally redeemed myself. I spent the whole day completely wowing this girl. She was good in the morning, so she caved, not me. Anyway, she was totally psyched with my awesome skills. "Je sais tout ce qui donne la plaisire aux enfants!" or something.

She is now putty in the palm of my hand around my little finger. or something.

Anyway, I know this is my second Motherfucker in the past 2 titles, but I kick ass. Mothafucka.

Motherfucker cock shit fuck

Okay, so I have a confession to make, I am a good babysitter, I am. But...with good kids. With bad kids, I'm still fine. They won't get hurt or anything. But there is a good chance that I'll hurt them. obviously, child abuse is not funny. But what if the child abuses you?

I can't control this kid. Not that I want to control her, I just want her to stop being a bitch. She totally does things just to piss me off and she doesn't follow the tiniest instructions like "stop hitting your brother." She doesn't say please. She acts like she honestly believes I'll do whatever she says. If I don't, she runs away or hits me. Qu'est-ce que fuck am I supposed to do?

Mary Poppins just won't do--the kids from that movie just needed some love, and love is what I got--this spoiled brat needs Nanny McPhee. Or an exorcist.

Oh well, I'm handling it.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

This is really a post that belongs on my claireischeesy blog, but I don't want certain people to find it. This works though.

Remember all those lessons we learned when we were kids? Every story we heard, every movie we watched tried to teach us something. Don't take candy from strangers, don't lie, believe in yourself, don't judge a book by the cover, dont...make deals with witches, your dead father will always be with you in some way, true beauty lies within, even if someone can't talk, they might still be your true love, humans don't belong in the jungle, etc (lemme know if you think of more...I'm at a loss)

Well, really, other than "don't take candy from strangers" do we really follow those rules until we learn them for ourselves? I didn't. And I'm sure I've taken candy from many a stranger.

Remember the message from Wizard of Oz? There's No Place Like Home.

Oh how I wish I had ruby slippers. It's not that I'm not having fun here, and I know if I met the Scarecrow, Tinman and Lion, I'd be a lot happier. I'll make friends soon, I know. But Dorothy got to bring Toto.

Bedroom Prince had it right when he said "don't go." But I guess there's no way to explain such a thing.

Why wouldn't I go?

Auntie Em was too busy for me and Miss Gulch was trying to steal my dog! No one was paying any attention to me and everything was black and white. I needed new and magical things. I needed attention. I needed colour.

But alas, I'm here for a year and realised too late (or too early) that:

"...if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with!"

I guess I'll just have to try and enjoy my time in Oz. Maybe Dorothy was happy to pay off her student loan and learn french while she was there.

I just really miss Auntie Em.

Desperate Housewives

"This is what married people do, they go out of their way to calm each others' irrational fears!"

Damn, It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta

I can drive stick on a mountain.

Wrong Again?

ps (pre-script) I had phone sex last night. Hot. I totally needed that distraction.

Speaking of distractions, Harry Potter. More to the point, Ron and Hermione. Quand le fuck are they getting together? I seriously cannot wait. I think I have a disease. I've been watching interviews and silly clips on YouTube. I'm seriously sick. I also...really like Ron. Meaning I think he's super hot. Ron from the book, of course, and ...yes, Rupert Grint, too. It's true. I don't care. I totally want him. He's like, what 17 now? Surely, that's fine. My mom is dating a 34 year old, that's 11 years younger than her...so I can sleep with Ron right? Or the twins?

I wish we could have the grown up versions of Harry Potter. Grown up versions meaning everything is the same but we get to see the dirty stuff and hear the swear words. Seriously, I know. I have issues.

mua ha ha ha ha ha!!

I think I'm part evil.

I'm online with Baseball Knight right now, we were flirty slightly dirtily, and he said 'so what's happening with you and your lovah when you get back' and I said 'it'll be the same as always--we'll live together and have an open relationship--does that put a downer on your fantasy?' and he said 'i'm not gonna lie, yes.' and said 'but you never showed signs of wanting more' and he said 'well i did and still do'

and now i'm grinning smugly and excitedly. Why am i so mean?

haha. he's a manwhore, so he'll be fine. whatever. i miss my lovah, i miss excitement, i miss the city and i miss sex.

Whine With My Swiss Cheese

I know that I need to stop complaining. But now I have a headache. I'm allergic to this country. Driving here is fucking ridiculously hard, stupid french is hard, watching children when the mother is around is hard, playing princess when you don't even get to be in charge is hard, cooking meals for picky eaters is hard, being away from loved ones is REALLY hard, not having sex when you want to is hard, not going on the internet to look up erotic stories in private is hard, stupid french is hard and stupid driving is hard. But really I just want my lovah and a bed and my own bed and my own kitchen (shared with some roommates is okay) in english. But I also want to not pay for rent or food and to have opportunities to take karate and clown and fencing and archery and to travel and ...stuff.

I'm here for a reason. But I'm Rory-ing it, and at this headache ridden moment, the cons are outweighing the pros. But I'm here for a reason.

It'll get better, it hasn't even been 2 weeks.

And all of my stupid old insecurities kick in. Blech. No one will like me, I sound stupid, I'm not good at this, I don't fit in...

of course I don't.

oh well. I'll be home at Christmastime.

Send some love to Sion, please.

hella lame

um, you know when you check the computer regularly for signs of life, and you blog at least once a day?

well you know how it feels when other people don't blog?

BLOG AGAIN, ALL OF YOU!

logging, not blogging.

sorry my beloved blog loves. my computer isn't working so i can't write in my room. much like bedroom prince, that's where i blog. so i'm just writing in my journal a lot. i'll copy all of those entries into here because they're good.

love you all and missing you so much that i've performed magic to comfort myself with the memories of you.

WTF?

What the mother cock shit?
Qu'est-ce que fuck?

Switzerland is fucking hot.
Sion is bloody spectacular.
Sexual.
What am I doing here?

I'll write coherent crap later.

I'll Be Home for Christmas

So this is it. I will still be blogging on Quill and Ink to keep you updated with my very personal stuff, but I will be in Switzerland.

I know I never see Miss Pants and Skinny Rabbit is pretty far away, and I almost never see Arts Monkey...okay, so maybe none of you will technically miss me, but I know that knowing I'm not in my bed with my lovah on Clinton will tear you up inside.

And knowing I'm away and you're still here but I'm not here, will tear me up inside. It's going to be a hard year.

Goodbye until tomorrow.

ps you know little baby jaguar? I had dinner with his family last night and at the end, he ran up to me, kissed my leg and said "I'm not going to miss you, bye!"

The Devil Wears H&M

Just to kinda copy Skinny Rabbit, I went shopping! At H&M! I got a new coat! It's black and it has princess shoulders. And I got a new hat, it's wide brimmed and black as well. And I got new black gloves and a new black shirt and a new black bra. Apparently, I like that colour.

But really, it's good because I can wear whatever colour scarf and it'll change my look. Right now I have a red scarf that my lovah bought me. He has a matching one.

Aaah! I have to start thinking about packing! That's gonna be a tough job.

A Night's Tale is on. How do I feel about this movie? I can't tell.
It makes me want to be in that time. But the movies that clean up the horrible world that was the past always make me want to live then.

Have you seen The Devil Wears Prada? It gave me an eating disorder, but it was good.

That's all.

Jet Plane

my bags aren't packed
I'm not ready to go
I need some time
need one more show
I hate to wake you up to say I'm scared

the dawn has broken
it's almost noon
the tickets are booked
I'm leaving soon
already I'm so lonesome I could die

The Rage!

Sometimes I get so angry that my blood boils. My hands really do ball into fists and my nails dig into my skin.

My reaction? I want to write a letter.

Canadians really are pussies.

Show me the Beast!

Can I just say how jealous I am of Skinny-Rabbit and especially Miss Pants? What an amazing story they get to portray! I'm watching the movie now with two feverish children. I don't think they're as enchanted as I or the castle.

I love the very beginning with the music and the narrator. I love "Little town..." I love the blond whores. I love "Oh no!" "Oh Yes!" "Oh no!" "Oh yes!" I love love love the library more than anything in this world. I love when Cogsworth finally goes crazy and stabs a guy in the butt. I love when Belle comes back for the Beast and that saves him. I love when Gaston says "Did you honestly think she'd want you when she could have someone like me?" in that funny voice. I love when Belle's hair finally comes down in the rain and she looks really hot. I love when magical light shines out through the beast. I love when Belle gazes into the nameless prince's human eyes and says "it is you!"

"It is a miracle!"

Zoom out from the beautiful stainglass window of the lovahs dancing and cue Celine Dion.

What a great way to spend a sick day.

Excitement Strikes Again

Dammit!
Baseball Knight talked to me on msn last night and was saying dirty funny things. Typical. But then he asked if we could see each other before I go. I thought there was a hint of "sleep together" before I go, but I wasn't sure. then I "brb"'d him and and when I got back it said "And this time I promise it will last A LOT longer than last time" "I wasn't in a good place in Pennsylvania..." "I'm very happy with my life and who I am now" "...hello?"
And I was like "ah!" But he was offline.

So I wrote him an email saying I wasn't ignoring him, I'm glad he's happy now and I'm looking forward to seeing him again.

Isn't it funny to promise that it will last a lot longer this time? What are we, in high school? I feel like I'm slumming it with the immature. And I like it.

"Yes please Mrs. Adams!"

Then I had sex dreams about him all night. I don't get me. I love my lovah more than anything. the sex is amazing. AMAZING. never wanting anything. We have passionate, exciting, fun, loving, funny, unique, sexy sex.

Yet immature baseball knight really excites me! Why? I don't need him!

Oh well. I'm looking forward to living out last night's dreams (and for it not to live up to them).

Plug

Argh. All thoughts and no internet make Alathariel a dull girl.

All greens and no chocolate make Alathariel go crazy.

I've started the soup diet.

My head hurts, I hate celery now, I hate green beens more than ever and all I want, ALL I WANT IS TWO CHEESEBURGERS FROM MCDONALDS!

But The Mermaids have recorded their first album: Radiant in Ribbons

Please go to their release party: The Undescribable Unveiling

Also, please attend: The Forlorn Farewell to say goodbye to Alathariel for a year.

They are one in the same event, though one makes you cry while the other makes you dance. (I hope the Unveiling is the one that makes you dance...)

Tequila Sunrise. 212 Adelaide. 10:00

Be there or be square.

Just

I do it to myself.

But I get some things done! I do! My list is almost complete! It's just the second most important thing I haven't done yet.

I just read an old (drunken) journal entry where I promised myself that things would be different. Well, I lied. I am in a disfunctional, dishonest relationship with myself and it's probably going to get worse.

But...I'm sure it'll all work out in the end. I'm cocky that way.

nostalgia

I wish I could go back to college
In college you know who you are
You sit in the quad
and you think "oh my god,
I am totally gonna go far!"

What a silly concept to ask "who am I?"

but I do. because I don't know sometimes.
I think I do know but I cloud it because I don't want to hurt other people's feelings.
I lose track.

How do I go back to college?
I don't know who I am anymore!
I wish I had taken more pictures...

And put them in a pretty scrapbook to look at at times like these.

Not So Wise

I am trying to learn the language of the world as they say in "The Alchemist."
I don't know how to do that while there are things to do and responsibilities to ...see through.

There's a part in the book where a boy goes to a wise man to learn the path to happiness or the meaning of life or something. When he gets to the wise man's castle, it is bustling and the wise man is talking to many other travelors and advisors and what have you. It takes two hours for the wise man to get to the boy and then he says "I have no time right now to tell you about the meaning of life, but feel free to look around my castle at all the wonderful things I have. I need you to hold on to this spoonful of special oil while you do so and don't drop any." So the boy goes all around the castle for 2 hours, his eyes never leaving the spoonful of oil. When he returns to the wise man, the wise man asks if the boy saw all of his prized possessions. The boy is embarrassed saying he was only focusing on the oil. The wise man told him to enjoy himself around the castle for the next two hours. So he did. And when he got back, the wise man was pleased to hear how much the boy loved all of his wonders but was quick to point out that he had spilled the oil. He said "all I can tell you about the meaning of life is this: find happiness in the things around you, but do not forget about the oil."

What the hell does that mean? I mean, I think I know what it means, but that's like, hard.

In any case, read the Alchemist, I'm enjoying it.

All Shook Up/Question Mark?

My hands are shaking and my knees are weak. That Elvis really knew what he was talking about.

Seriously, I'm having trouble typing.

It just hit me. Hard.

My Swiss hosts just sent me the contract. What am I doing? I'm going to Switzerland for a whole year?
This is happening?

What is this I'm feeling? Fear? Excitement? Curiosity? Nerves? Nausia? Joy? Adventure? Fear?

All of the above. A hell of a lot of fear though. good fear. is there good fear?

I'm signing contracts! I'm signing contracts? Why?

Am I really going to be in the hills I've been dreaming about since I watched the Sound of Music every morning when I was 2? Will they really be alive with the sound of music? Do you remember those mountains? They are amazing! they're like a painting, but they're real and I'm going to prove it!

Not only am I gonna have a new room, a new house, a new family, a new job (NO MORE SERVING!!!)...I'm gonna have a new country!...A NEW CONTINENT! I'm in so much shock.

Why hasn't it hit me before now?

How am I gonna make friends? I'm really shy!

Am I going to watch TV while I'm there? I still have to see what happens to Lorelai and Rory but how can I watch TV when I'm in Switzerland? Do they even have electricity?

Am I going to read? I'll be reading in French!

French?! Will I be able to communicate in French? I have a hard enough time communicating in English!

What if I screw up the lives of the kids?

What if I audition for a play but can't be in it because of my au pair work?

Will I have enough money to buy pretty things and pay off my loan? I'll never have enough money to buy pretty things and pay off my loan.

Will I be a good driver? Will I get the kids in a car crash?

Am I going to turn into a grown up? Don't I want to be with my loved ones while I grow up?

Why am I going somewhere where I will be all alone?

What if I get in a fight with my hosts?

Wow, it feels really good asking all of these questions. I'm a little calmer now, though still short of breath.

What am I gonna do without my mom? My family? My friends? My cat? My lovah? My home?

I'll be back. I'll be back a thousand times hotter than I am now.

But the actual reality of this adventure has me all shook up.

ow.

Grumble grumble. Mmmmgroan. My head. *cough cough* ew. groan. my tummy... rrrrgh.

what the hell happened last night?

vague images of a veil...why am I dressed all in white? groan.

grumble. groan.

oh yeah. fake bachelorette party. groan.

did one of my friends hook up at least? yes...that's him in the shower. uh oh, what if he's still in there when I need the toilet? ugh. moan. toilet.

jaggermeister can kiss my ass.

groan. mmmmoan.

shut up cat.

ow. sitting up hurts.

need kd. groan.

never--and I mean it this time--ever doing that again.

Lost one too many of those brain cell things.

Ode to Skinny Rabbit

Showtime is brilliant. I love reading it. It thrills me.

His kicks are beyond incredible.

The best Hermionick we could have found. Watch him in Clairry Potter and the Goblet on Fire. Forget everyone else. He's the one who will make you laugh and cry and hurl.

My cousin.

He thinks he just can't do it alone--but he can.

He can shimmy with the best of them.

He's a pure divo.

He would make out with himself in the mirror like Sarah Silverman.

He eats pizza better than anyone I know.

He has the most amazing stuff. (including Golden Girls and the Muppet Show on DVD!)

The father of my cat.

I'm assuming he has a giant penis.

I taught him how to stage kiss--but he didn't need teaching.

He spends money like there's no tomorrow, but when the time came to step up and pay off his loan, he came through.

He thinks he can do it alone, but he gets by with a little help from his friends.

What a beautiful, talented, bright eyed, interesting, intelligent, pretty, sexual, skinny, silly, hilarious, crazy kid!

Do You Believe In Magic?

I love books. I mostly love books about books. I just started writing a book about books. and book lovers. I don't know what the plot is gonna be but it starts in a bookstore. any ideas? magical ideas? I can't write about a magical ring or sword or locket or wardrobe or flower. it's really tough to be original. how can I get them to another world in a way that's never been done before? and then I need a message. so far, it seems to be heading toward believing in magic and being a good friend. and reading.

books make me cry. they make me worry. they make me obsess. they make me shiver. they change my dreams at night and the way I view the world.

I don't like being in the audience of a theatre because I would rather be a part of the play. but being a part of the behind the scenes of a book involves writing it. I love being in the audience of a book, but it's bitter sweet because I want to be a part of the story. stories that can't happen. Do you know how many times I've tried to move things in my mind like Matilda? or looked in wardrobes? or tried to get sucked into the blank pages of a book? though I know it can't happen, it's so dissapointing when it doesn't.

I'm sure there are some things you wish were true, even if they're not as childish.

Oh well, maybe in writing a magical story about how "life isn't magical until one day..." I'll feel like it's a little more magical.

A Whole New World

Oh no! My roommate is Ariel, and I used to be Belle! (not for real like Miss Pants, just that I read and walk and...am her.) But now, with black hair, I am forced to remember my Arabic roots and be Jasmine. It's not so bad, but now I have to lose weight if I'm gonna wear her costume.

Snow White

2 things. 1) My lovah smells right now. His breath, his pits. He stinks. He's allowed to, it's morning before his shower.

2) My hair is now black. I'm very pleased with it as my transformation back into the warrior princesse I am begins. Now I just have to wait until it grows and then relearn how to fight. And float. And travel between worlds.

Stuff anyone?

I like people because of their stuff.

It sounds shallow, I know this, but "stuff" can mean so many things. For example, my fellow mermaid has a hell of a lot of stuff; she has corsets, frilly dresses, jewelry, fairies hanging from her ceiling, perfumes, a piano, nail polish, video game figurines, video games, pretty pictures, paint, games, a good printer, nice shoes, the best hair anyone will ever have, sparkly things to go in her hair, cool journals, cool pens to go with the journals, a kilt, a digeridoo, more lingerie than you can imagine, etc. I like her stuff and I like her because of her stuff. They are a window into who she is. Is that shallow? I can't tell sometimes, because I'm blinded by her stuff.

My former roommate (Neenia) does not have a lot of stuff. The stuff she has, I am obsessed with. Every simple, clean shirt she has is a wonder to me and the few pictures on her walls (her old walls) constantly amazed me. Her favourite movies (I still have Center Stage and Footloose--woops!) are often off the shelf as she or I or we are watching them all the time. Plus she has marshmallows or chocolate almonds or pita and hummus. I like her for those things. They are a part of who she is.

My oldest friend (as in I've known her the longest) is obsessed with making her own bath stuff. She has essential oils up the wazoo and a pestal and mortar with which she mixes stuff.

My brother has a super organised binder with every CD and every movie he owns. He brings it everywhere he goes.

My lovah has nice blazers that he looks good in. He has huge text books. He has Absynthe on a shelf next to a painting he is working on. He has a flask. He has an old type writer. He wants a bassoon very badly.

Gilbert's Girl has arts and crafts enough for a day care. She has a library. She has a pot of boiling water and a towl that she uses to steam her voice before she has to sing. She has a stuffed Simba. She has adorable PJ's.

My friend from the renaissance faire has a crazy buffy collection. She has fuzzy hand cuffs and a cat o' nine tails. Everything she has is green and black.

My old funny friend has a JTT lampshade. She has a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pillow case. She has Archie "Gag Bag" comics all over her wall.

If I haven't mentioned you, be sure I am in love with your stuff. Be sure I love you for your stuff. I hope that's not a bad thing.

That gets me thinking about my stuff, I have a pretty good collection, I think. I have a drum, I have 4 Superman lunchboxes and 23 Superman shirts, I have all the children's books you'll need. I have Aladdin, A Goofy Movie, The Little Mermaid and Newsies. I have a cat (he counts as stuff). I have a quill and ink. I have a book called Fairyopolis. I have the kind of candle holder you take down the hall at night in a creepy mansion and a white nightgown that goes with it. I have a magic wand. I have a lot of ribbons. I have red ballet shoes. I have scrapbooks. I have a turtle stool called Antonio Banderes. I have beautiful copies of Treasure Island and Peter Pan. I have a picture of me in an other world. I have a guitar named Cherry. I have a reversable corset. I have pirate boots. I have a small statue of a woman with hair down to her feet.

Hmm. I was going to say I wasn't happy with my stuff, that my stuff was cluttered and meaningless. But I have amazing stuff. I love me for my stuff. I am going to do my best to store it well, display it well. My stuff is a window into who I am.

Books, Dreams, Trains and Noses

Ah. I've just spent a glorious few days at my lovah's cottage. We went swimming and rowing and biking and driving and walking. I ate the most wonderful meals (his mother is a goddess in the kitchen) and saw a giant bull frog. I didn't have a book. I forgot the book I was reading (Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen) at my cousin's house. That is such a horrible thing, to lose a book. I felt like I was stripped from my world and the people I had grown used to.

I got a cd back that I had leant out and it makes me feel so comfortable.

I had a very, very scary dream involving the destruction of my workplace by a bad guy and I didn't know who was involved with him. it ended with my dad shooting strange missiles into the ground while chanting about armageddon. I don't know what that means, but it was horrible. Then, later in the morning, I dreamed that I couldn't find my place, I didn't know where I belonged in a strange school I somehow ended up in. I found my best friend who usually feels more out of place than I do and she was with a group of jazz musicians. They all looked so happy and I was so surprised to find that she found her place before I did, without even telling me or helping me. I was to take the jazz class and my best friend's group said there were no places left except one by a microphone and I had to take that one. We played "It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got That Swing" and I rocked it. The director made all the other singers stop to listen to me. Because I was taking risks. That made me feel good.

My lovah wanted to go for a bike ride with his little brother but my ass was still hurting from my own horrible bike ride the day before so I stayed back. As I said, I didn't have a book, so I found some paper and a pen and I wrote for two hours. I continued a story I had going that I thought I couldn't write anymore. But once I started, it wrote itself. I just need the middle now and a hell of a lot of dialogue. I know the atmosphere of the dialogue but not what they're actually saying...oh well. It'll write itself, I hope.

Trains suck. They are too expensive and if your phone runs out of power so you can't even play blockbreaker they are boring. I did like the snack trolley. I wish it was the Hogwarts Express I was riding, instead of Via Rail. I would love to be a professor at Hogwarts. I bet I would be a great charms teacher. Does that mean I'd have to be in Ravenclaw? I always tell people that I'm in Gryffendor, but I often question my own bravery. My lovah thinks I'm brave.

My nose is stuffed up. I would be talking funny if I were talking. By dose is stuffy. that's what I'd say.

I don't want to work toborrow. I hade serving. I get to babysit dext week and for the dext 6 weeks after. thed I get to teach a 6 year old girl and a 2 year old boy how to speak English. ID SWITZERLAND!

I'b going to try to clear my dose daturally but I will probably reduce to bedical bethods like otrivib. I'b addicted to that stuff.

Good dight.

someone holds me safe and warm...

i'm typing with one hand. wanna know why? because there is a two-week-old boy in my arms. i am so happy i'm struck dumb. i only have the voice to hum "once upon a december" from anastacia. he likes that song.

this is bad. i want one and i'm ready for one. but my life isn't.

Josie and the Pussycats

Is it bad when my songs want to copy really bad chick rock?

Cheesy Good Ending

I'm drunk.

Bedroom Prince is finally back and we had a karaoke good time.

I'm the laziest person I know. There are dishes to be done, passports to get, drivers licenses to get, litters to change, laundry to be done, calls to be made, emails to be sent, songs to be written, cords to be bought, shelves to be put up, cats to be brushed...that's all I can think of right now because pizza is taking over the part of my brain that thinks.

Mmm I would like some pizza. What kind? Not Pizza Hut, too greasy. Maybe the kind from pizza pizza because I could get garlic dipping sauce. Maybe Amato's because I'd feel healthier.

There's no one home but me and the cat. Is it bad that all I wanna do is watch TV and eat pizza? I'm supposed to say "all I wanna do is have some fun" but I don't. What's wrong with me?

I guess I could go for some sex. But it would be lazy sex and there had better be some chocolate afterwards.

Why can't I just get paid millions of dollars for dressing like a pirate, looking hot, singing and gaining weight at the speed of sound?

I need to watch RENT again. I sang Out Tonight and Another Day tonight. This wanker who's a good singer who I thought was cool put my name in for Another Day. We were pretty good except I lost my voice halfway through due to some smokers just out the door. Oh well. The point is, I should listen to Mimi, not Roger. I need to do stuff that isn't watching TV. I can't say "another day."

No day but today.

Empty Head

I'm sitting at my computer with one towl around my waist and one around my head. I just had a shower, I'm about to get ready for work, I thought "I have enough time to blog a little." I have nothing to say. Nothing to think even. Know what's in my head? "D'ya ever laugh when a waitress falls and drops a tray of glasses?!"

Oh...oh...yup, here's a thought: I wish I were a guy so I could get more parts. hmm...I should get an agent and try my luck before I make any rash decisions.

Ooooh. Here they come. The thoughts. The thoughts that haunt me every day. It's too early for my constant stomach ache!

Responsibility.

Sick.

Entertain me please! get my mind out of hell!

A Day In The Life

Um...so one of my friends is a very bad influence on me! In a very short period of time, I've bought a superman shirt, 3 peices of lingerie, earrings (with Belle on them!), another shirt, a bra, red ballet shoes (awesome) and boots. And I know there's more to be bought. I don't like shopping because I'm indecisive and broke...but I've been having too much fun. Today I bumped into baseball hottie and wanted to make out with him. He just compliments me so much! He's such an ego booster! And I don't feel bad using him to boost my ego, because everything he says is a line! Whatever. I feel fat right now. My hair is too short. But I look good in my new fairy nightgown.

I'm annoyed that I'll be in Switzerland when the first year of the new renaissance faire will be on. I'm very much looking forward to making a legendary character that will be remembered forever.

I'm horny for the stage.

I learned a Shakespeare monologue just because.

I'm gonna go listen to Avenue Q and help my roomie make a mermaid tail.

Then I'm gonna make pasta so that it'll be worth it to be fat.

Estoy Calliente

I wanna put on a tight skirt and flirt with a stranger. Hot. Flirting is hot. The chase is hot. Undressing with your eyes is hot. Lightly brushing knees is hot. Eyes locking is hot.

I wanna go to a nude beach. Wait, is it like super sexually charged there? Or is everyone desensitised? Because that would be boring. I'm in the mood to be turned on!

Crossed The Nerd Line

I just spent the day in a corset. That's always the best kind of day.

Two of my friends and I (kind of known by one person as the Rainbow Club) went into the woods in pirate garb and took pictures. We were in character the whole time. Why? Because it's awesome. I was called Lilly Lovegoode, the ship's whore, and there was also Milady Captain Eleanor and the crew assassin Olivia the Ominous. We were so amazing.

I love stories. I love acting out stories. Why is that? Can someone tell me why it thrills me so?

The story I have about the Forgotten World that will one day be a TV show sends shivers to my very core and I lose my breath just thinking about it. One day I will tell you the tragic tale of my true love, or the hilarious predicament that got a village named after me, or the loss of my dagger, or the frightening tale of a friend who saves me, or the clever man who actually managed to trick me, or the extremely impressive way I kill people, or the evil spell that cannot be lifted, or the fall of a beloved kingdom...

You'll know all these stories in time when you see them on TV. I hope they bring you at least half as much joy as they do me.

What gets you excited?

Mermaids and Point Shoes...and other pretties...

Okay. Here's the thing. I signed up for Adsense or something. You may be aware of those little ads at the top of my pretty pink blog page. 2 things, actually, about them:

1) could you please click on them no matter what they are? You don't have to look at them, just click on them, and I should get some money. Because, I don't want them there if I'm not getting paid.

2) they're taylored to my posts! Whatever I write about, they're about! How cool is that? Very cool, you say? Well, you'd be wrong. I was wrong, once. I thought it was cool, too, but it's not. They're super duper embarrassing. I said something tiny about depression, like the weather threw me into a state of depression, and the ads were about therapy and depression treatment! I'm not depressed! I felt depressed! God, everyone does! Jerks. Once it was about point shoes! That was awesome. Once it was about broadway! Sweet! So I'm going to write a lot about mermaids, and maybe they'll put an ad up for a mermaid lagoon on sale.

Mermaids are the most beautifullest creatures in the sea, nay the world. they must have long hair. Their hair does not have to match their tail, but they do have to look good together. I like mermaids with purple hair and some dark gothic-y purple ish black tails. I also like the classic green tail red hair ariel mermaids. Mermaids sing beautifully, if eerily. I particularly like the ones in Hook!

There. I hope that'll do.

So Cool

Dude. I didn't need to go to work today. I read the schedule (that I made) wrong and didn't need to go in. It's tomorrow that I work. Dude.

Oh well.

I honestly have a new outlook on life. I don't know how it happened. Sometime during my nap on the bus to see my mom, somewhere between Finch and Wellington, something clicked. I looked at my life and decided: I'm cool with it. Yup, I'm gonna do yoga in the morning, sit ups in the evening...and Arther in the afternoon...what? no. But really. I'm cool if I try to eat better, I'm cool when I get my hello kisses from my lovah, I'm cool to work to pay off my debts which gave me the wonderful experience that was theatre school, I'm cool with freaking out about going away, I'm cool with having picnics, I'm cool with watching Zoolander at 1 with my sister Mermaid, I'm cool with driving lessons I can't afford, I'm cool with mango salsa, I'm cool with blogging, I'm cool with my new cell phone, I'm cool with singing, I'm cool with the rain.

I don't think this is a "lady doth protest too much" situation, because I really feel cool. But if it is all some sort of defence mechanism, then I'm cool with that.

Glory Room

Now that my lovah has moved into the mathouse, my life is in a heightened state of disorder. I've decided to stop caring though. I'm always always always going to be flustered, discombobulated, unorganised and messy. I've just got to find my bearings within the chaos. I can do that.

I've been so absolutely lazy these past...23 years. I told my lovah I need to get out of my funk. He said I need to "do stuff" and that I think about it too much. Looking at what needed to be unpacked I freaked out. He said not to think about it and just do things that you don't like. I hate that. I'm doing my best not to think about going to work today. And finding a way to get out of work on Saturday, it's my friend's birthday. And calling Rogers. And Hydro. And the gym. And my grandma. And Royal Bank. And driver's ed. And and and.

I'm not thinking about it. I'm thinking about Richard and Kahlan finding each other again. I'm thinking about Ron and Hermione finally hooking up. I'm thinking about Switzerland. I'm thinking about Bedroom Prince finally coming home. I'm thinking about Neenia returning again. I'm thinking about Skinny Rabbit lying in my Davisville bed. I'm thinking about my lovah cooking me dinner. I'm thinking about Maureen and Joanne fighting. I'm thinking about having a million dollars. I'm thinking about my camping trip that was too short. I'm thinking about singing. I'm thinking about ...I'm losing it. Oh no! I don't want to go to work! Why? Why do I have to go serve people stupid food?

I'll do it. I'll go. I need the money, that's why!

I will be a voluntary slave for a couple more years and if I don't have enough money to survive doing what I love then...well, then, I'll just have to get a sugar daddy.

I have the glory room It's huge. My lovah and I are excited about it. One of my best friends lives just upstairs but our schedules are opposite. I'm off to work while she sleeps, and by the time I get home, she's off to work, and by the time she gets home, I'm sleeping. I should switch to nights.

Alright I actually have to work now. Mimi from the musical totally sucks compared to Mimi from the movie. I'm sorry but it's true. Usually, I'm a sucker for originals but when it comes to musicals, the film people just seem to know what they're doing more. Here are a list of movie musicals that are better than the stage versions: The Sound of Music, Grease, Hair, Rocky Horror, Annie, Rent (although, I'm sure seeing it live is amazing). I can't wait for the Hairspray movie to come out, though I'm nervous. I saw the musical twice and I love it so so much. I don't want them to change anything. they can add stuff, even remove stuff, but PLEASE don't change anything!

Okay, okay, I'm going.

I'm leaving now. My shoes are on.

...Fine. Bye.

A Mark, A Yen, A Buck Or A Pound

That clinking clanking sound!
It makes the world go 'round.

Waxing Philosophical

Oh, lovahs. What's the deal?

My lovah and I watched a stupid chick flick that made me sad. All movies make me cry no matter what. No matter how cheesy, I am completely succeptable to whatever they want me to feel. I cried like a baby at the end of Aquamarine.

Anyway, at the end of Something's Gotta Give, my lovah mistook my tears and anger at the opposite sex. He thought I was specifically sad and angry at him and he said something like "well, I just don't know now."

What?

That's not what we were talking about at all!

"...you...don't ...know...now?"

Something about he doesn't know now if I'm for sure the one. If what we have is true love. But you don't believe in true love! But I'm starting to again. But that's so much worse! But I just don't know now.

What?

So you're starting to believe that there is true love, but you don't think I'm your true love.

We came to the understanding that he believes in true love but not enough to feel it yet. He told me that, in high school, such huge concepts made him go a little crazy and he repressed all possible colossal ideas like true love, infinity, afterlife and things like that. What a loser.

Anyway. Of course, we all have doubts. And his, I am convinced, are rooted in the fact that he thinks age dictates preparedness. His mother and father, two people who are absolutely perfect for each other and in the truest of love, believe that they are only as happy together as they are because they didn't get together until they were 30. 30 is the magic number. Really? That's a little silly and specific for EVERYONE don't yout think?

And I'd be totally fine with it if I wasn't raised the exact opposite way. The way that you are to be married with at least one kid before you're 25. 25 is the magic number. Somehow, 25 is the opposite of 30. What's five years? Why can't either of us compromise our stupid teachings?

I don't even want to get married right now. I'm totally fine with our open relationship, as is he! He even said he gets really excited about having a house with me and kids and raising them with me. With our decision that we are both fine with and the fact that we both think it will be great to get married, what the hell do I care what happens in the meantime!?

I was also raised to believe that when you find the one, you know. If it's true love, it's true love! What the fuck is up with that? As much as I'd love to believe it, we're not in a fairy tale! And believe me, I want to be, that's why I'm so obsessed with true knight in shining armour romance on a brige in paris under the stars love. But that's ridiculous. I'm allowed to have doubts and when I do, my love for my lovah is not lessened. It is not less than the love of the people who claim they don't have doubts. There's some truth in "knowing when you know" and there's romance in that, but there's an equal amount of truth and romance in thinking about it, testing the waters together, exploring together, becoming best friends, doing what is right together, spending time apart, coming back together, supporting each other.

Half of me wants the kind of love where you would just die if you were separated from your lovah. The other half of me laughs at such a notion. The first half weeps constantly at the thought that my lovah might find someone with whom true love sparks, the other half is certain it will be with me when he opens that part of him again. Yet another half thinks it is all trivial bullshit and we will agree that it is trivial bullshit and stay together because we have fun.

I think that's what it boils down to. Fun.

That has to be what it's all about. And in that case, I am as rich as can be.

...But of course there's the half that really wants a partner. And then the other half tells me I have one.

Girls have serious issues--and I know this is going through girls' minds everywhere.

Having said all that in blog form, I look over at my lovah, and he smiles such a sweet, simple smile that my eyes flood.

We'll see.

My hair looks pretty.

I'm about to go to Lazer Quest with my cousins who I haven't seen in a while which is totally exciting! Woo hoo!

I just had sex with my lovah and it was totally great! So great. Every time we have sex, it's better than the last! But I feel a little insecure. I have cellulite on my tummy. It sucks. But I owe the gym much more money than I have so I can't go there...so I have to do sit ups myself.

I'm kinda wishing my lovah was more romantic, but as baseball hottie said when I was being particularly girly: "don't; you're too pretty."

Which makes me want to mind fuck other people.

One of my new Penn Renn Friends seems to have a crush on me. Or at least he seemed to. In fact, we had a little something something playing chicken and he said some really dirty things via text messages which kinda turned me on. I didn't really care for him much except as a friend (very much as a friend) and he started to creep me out in the sexual category. Then he found someone else there and seems to really like her. Like, they might do the long distance thing. But--and this is what makes me a bitch--I really liked being liked, even if he couldn't have me. I'm pissed off that he found someone else. Like he LIKED me. He told me! I miss the looks and the poems (you can get away with cheesy poems at a renaissance faire) and the CONSTANT COMPLIMENTS.

There was someone else who complimented me a lot. The guy who played the Sheriff, with whom my character was in love. IHis character was supposed to not like me and not notice that I liked him. It's weird what acting can do to you. I spent seven weekends chasing this guy who, in reality, I'm not attracted to AT ALL! And I still have the urgent NEED for him to notice me! I miss the compliments I got out of character and the usual eventual fulfillment I got at the end of the day in character. He proposed to me twice, and we hooked up 3 times and I kissed him a couple of times, too! It was so much fun. And in real life, he felt the need to tell me how hard it is for him to not notice me all day because I'm so hot and my body type is his favourite, and I'm so pretty and so sweet...

My lovah loves me. But he's no actor. He's not a theatre person at all. He'll never show me the way I want him to show me. Plus, you know, he has me! What does he have to do? I love him just the way he is, and I'll never love anyone like I love him. I've just been spoiled recently, I'm used to being hit on.

Aww, he's playing piano again. Oh man, it's so beautiful.

That's love and romance enough for me.

I'm just a needy, spoiled, self-conscious, confused, hormonal, scared, slightly manic depressive, girly girl.

I've been blog/journal happy these days.
I love writing and reading!

Can someone buy me Phantom by Terry Goodkind?? I want it!!

Also, the Tin Princess by Philip Pullman.

Also, if you haven't read His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman, there's something seriously wrong with you. read it now. the first one is called "the Golden Compass."

Gonna go kick some Lazer ass!

mmm mmm morning

My lovah's brand new much awaited piano just arrived. He's pounding away on the keys. I had to record it on my phone. He's so happy and it's so soothing!

I feel great because he feels great.

I made him play Debussy's Claire De Lune first. I'm gonna play chopsticks once he's gone!

I love my lovah in the morning.

Bi-Polar Again

Helping the kids out of their coats
But wait the babies haven't been born
Unpacking the bags and setting up
And planting lilacs and buttercups

But in the meantime I've got it hard
Second floor living without a yard
It may be years until the day
My dreams will match up with my pay
--Feist


I'm watching Home Improvement right now. Is it wrong that I still think Randy Taylor aka JTT is super duper hot and I wanna be on the show?

I'm not very happy. The fact that the world seems to value only money makes me less than worthless. That doesn't feel good.

My lovah's parents say that my ability to smile in the face of such hardship is a good quality. They also say it's a bit manic depressive. I don't think they're right on either account. I think I'm not manic depressive and I think that it's unhealthy to be happy when I'm not happy. Especially because it's my fault I'm unhappy. It's my fault I didn't live with my mom for a year after school to pay off my debt. It's my fault I didn't work for a year before school to save up for it. There are a lot of should haves.

On the other hand, I don't value money as much as the world seems to. I don't care for it at all. So that's why I usually find myself happy when I am so in debt. I do find myself happy, don't I? Alright. I have plenty of things in my life that I happen to love more than I'll ever like money.

Manic enough?

It doesn't matter though, I'm going to Switzerland for a whole year and I'll be making money without spending any. Except, of course, to buy a quill and ink and stationery with witch to stay in touch with loved ones.

In other news, a bunch of renn friends went to karaoke a couple days ago when I was working. Baseball Hottie brought his "girlfriend." That's in quotes because I think it's lame when someone becomes your "girlfriend" just because you ask them. I kind of expected it because Whore (aka his best girl friend) mentioned something about him mentioning something about having a "girlfriend as of monday." Why are boys losers? Anyway, she was the most boring looking person ever. I'm horrible. I shouldn't even care. I just want the things he said to have been true. And I want to be hotter than some random chick I don't know who's having my mediocre sex.

What a whiny boring blog.

Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my ragtime gaaaaaal!

There. Entertainment. That's what I do/like best.

I might get to be a nanny here from now until I leave! That would be awesome. It would be for a one year old girl which is so cool!

I can't wait til I have a little girl. Well, I can wait, I have to, but when I do, it'll be spectacular! She'll be spectacular! My little Beatrice... or another name...

My lovah and I are hanging out tonight. I should be counting the minutes we have together.

I got a man to stick it out
And make a home from a rented house
And we'll collect the moments one by one
I guess that's how the future's done
--Feist

sad sad day

what do you do when you can't help the one you love?

when you can't help anyone? not even yourself?

The Very Last Adpennture/Mixed-up Hot Thought

I slept the whole way there. the front desk didn't have a room key waiting for me. there were giant spiders all over the outdoor hallway. my roommates didn't answer the door. Baseball Hottie's best girl-friend called up to me in her nightgown. she said I could sleep where her sex buddy should have been sleeping. unfortunately, that was where Baseball Hottie was sleeping! I had sworn outright that I would not spend the night in elbowland anymore but she said: "if you love me, you'll let me have my sex tonight!" so I knocked on that door. luckily, there was another girl in there who is hilarious and was sleeping and drunk. she yelled at me for interrupting their sleep as did Baseball Hottie. she screamed "you're not sleeping in this bed!" so I yelled "fine!" a la skinny-rabbit and slumped into Baseball Hottie's bed with my clothes on. He was like "uh...hi?" and I was like "keep that elbow away from me!" and he was like "what...hi?" and I finally let him rub my tummy a bit as I told him he was very cold last week and I was very hurt. he said "I was really preoccupied" I knew it was with the fact that his best girlfriend and his best guy friend were sleeping together, so I gave him a break. "I'm sorry," I said. "no wait a minute, YOU're sorry!" and he laughed and said "I'm sorry." then, the sleeping drunk chick woke up and said "I'm still drunk!" and jumped on us and started biting us. it was absolute hilarity. I died laughing at her antics. she and baseball hottie did some bits. I died again. I had a lovely slightly cuddly sleep.

My second last day of acting was super duper fun. My character used a love potion that backfired and the mudboys ended up loving me instead of the Sherrif. she whined a lot.

that night I went skinny dipping in a BEEEEEautiful river with willow trees, fire flies and stars all around me. Me and Baseball Hotties best girl friend (who I will now call...Whore, as that is her nick name!) snuggled with the hottest guy at the faire, the belly dancing henna artist. He was so gorgeous in the starlit water. we flanked him like the hot mermaids we were. He was cold and we kept him warm. It was so lovely.

the last day of acting was amazing. I had lost a wager (on whether or not I would sleep in Baseball Hottie's bed or not) and I had to declare my love publicly for the sherrif with a kiss. I did so and it was hilarious. We had a crazy pub sing that night including 3 proposals a forced marriage, a spanking and a poem. Everyone exchanged emails and promises and hugs and kisses.

I stayed one more night for pizza and a movie and had olive garden today for lunch with a strawberry daquiri, many inside jokes and a really good server. a fun, sleepy, musical filled car ride home and my lovah and kitty greet me with kisses.

******

I just read everyone's blogs and miss you all so so so so so much. soon I will be away. away from realities I hate but away from ones I love so much. away from what I'm used to, what I know so well.

I had a dream that I was in a cruel training building where I had to be cold and heartless and get beaten up a lot to become a warrior. I think that means I should be a little more ruthless with myself and less lenient with myself when it comes to my body and health. it's important that I become a warrior.

People (at Penn Renn anyway) think I am so hot and tell me constantly. If I truly get the body that I want, and the strength and endurance of the warrior I am inside, I will be unstoppable. that's what I want. unaverage unstoppableness!

I cannot wait until my vacation camping with my family! I neeeeeeeed my family so much right now! I need my other families too, but this one is my childhood family, they are my roots and I need to return to them at this juncture. One big bang before I go for a very long time.

I want a giant party with everyone I know. but everything costs money. I hate when I feel like the world thinks money equals worth. Because when that's the case, I am so much less than worthless. I'm a vampire. the world would be better off without me. why do certain people insist on making me feel that way?

the pirate festival will be so amazing.

I will be so amazing.

You are so amazing.

Just Another Manic...Friday

What an odd start to my day. My "Aaaaooooouuuuuuuuuuuut tonight" alarm went off on my phone and then I started dreaming. I dreamed that I was babysitting and the little girl wanted to play down the street with her friend. I followed them down my old street and realised I was in South Park. Everyone was playing this weird game involving some instrument that looked like a quarter staff mixed with devil sticks. I won some sort of mini game and so this teenage guy was like "wanna go practice alone?" at which point all the other South Parkers went "ooooohh...!"
and I was like "no, I"m babysitting" and then the dad of the little girl, who happened to be in the strange scrimmage said "no, that's okay, you go ahead." but the dude was taking me into this weird building and it was dark out and I was getting nervous. Then this other dude with dreads came out of a video store next door and in my dream I recognised him as someone who was safe so I made him come with us. Then we all went into this weird auditorium with a mini pool on the stage. I think the devil staff battles ususally happened in the water. Then the gross teenage dude made his move and said something about me being slutty. Then, when I turned to safe dreads guy, he said something similar! That's when my lovah turned in bed and I elbowed him in self defence. Then I went back to my dream and kicked both dudes' asses for making me hurt my lovah.

Then, when I signed on to msn this morning and started talking to Bedroom Prince, I noticed my name was Skinny-Rabbit's name!!! WTF?!? So I changed my name back, asked Bedroom Prince "isn't that weird" and he said my name had always been Pirate Princesse! So it was maybe in my imagination?? I'm so confused. Now I'm listening to RENT and it's making me depressed that my rent bounced. they keep rubbing it in! "rent rent rent rent rent! Everything is RENT!"

Oh! I just remembered a dream from earlier this morning! I'm supposed to TA a shakespeare class today and I think I'm nervous about it. In my dream, I was being taught by Darlene and she was pissed because I didn't do my homework...but I don't have to do homework for this class, right? I should be fine! The panic recedes.

Now my head hurts because it's still full of sleep. And I have a beautiful lovah in my bed who's too hot to snuggle. Hot as in the weather. No one is too hot as in good looking to snuggle.

Except Johnny. Mmmmm...I can't stop thinking about Captain Jack Sparrow. There is going to be a Pirate Festival for three weekends in August. I'm not in it but I'm definately going as many times as possible. I've made myself a pirate costume and I couldn't be more excited. I put it on last night and "arr"d around the house in it last night and was speaking in accent to my sleeping lovah and my cat. My lovah always seems to be sleeping, doesn't he? Well, he did things to me afterwards that would have made any Pirate Princesse blush.

I need to get my drivers' license so so badly. My lovah has given me the money to do so, but I need that money for rent. So I haven't cashed the cheque yet. I don't know what to do. I REALLY need money! Whatever. I'm gonna go take a bath and paint my toenails and brush up my Shakespeare then pack for the weekend.

By the by, this weekend will contain much fun, none of which with Baseball Hottie. Unless, of course, he recognises his crime, apologises profusely, loses a game of devil staff and begs me for my presence.

Otherwise, I'll be making out with girls again and that satisfies me knowing what's waiting for me at home!

love/hate

So, I love Futurama, I hate work.

I love my lovah, I hate my messy house.

I love summer, I hate the TTC.

I love anticipation, I hate suspence (but I love it!).

I love Johnny Depp, I hate Keira Knightly (somebody rape and pillage her please).

I love my nightgown, I hate laundry.

I love candles, I hate noise.

I love my kitty, I hate his litter.

I love my mommy, I hate following orders.

I love languages, I hate barriers.

I love broadway, I hate poverty.

I love ability, I hate responsibility.

I love pasta, I hate my thighs.

I love acting, I hate politics.

I love opportunity, I hate making decisions.

I love generosity, I hate when people have power highs.

I love Family Guy, I hate King of the Hill.

I love travel, I hate leg cramps.

I love hope, I hate dissapointment.

I love jokes, I hate boredom.

I love slacking, I hate slackers.

I love costumes, I hate paying rent.

I love sex, I hate not having a private jet.

Fucking Boys

If you shower with your boyfriend, your breasts will be so clean, so clean! I mean shiny.
--Sarah Silverman

So here is the latest (penultimate, in fact) installment of my penn renn advenntures:

I daydreamed myself into real dreamhood about hot, sexual excursions with hottie baseball knight all the way to Pennsylvania.

After we checked in to the hotel, I bounced around the halls looking for him and everyone else, all my pent up energy exploding in giggles and frolicking. I found out a bunch of the early birds had gone to see pirates 2 without the rest of us. I was shocked and appalled at their exclusive behaviour as was my pretend sister who swore loudly at them upon their arrival.

So hottie baseball knight interrupted a conversation I was having with his best girlfriend and said "Alathariel, can I volunteer you?" and held up a bottle of aloe. He had the sunburn from hell. It was a hell burn.

I aloed him up and gave him a few "hi" kisses when his buddy came in asking about his stupid laptop and hardwaresoftwarevideogamemousecursorguitar. So I left and put my pj's on...pj's being a hot lingerie nightgown...

As we (all three of us) were getting sleepy watching Chris Farley's biography, the very kind third wheel said "I'm gonna go get some cash from the ATM and a snack." And he left.

So, obviously, we started making out. Just started. Not one minute into it, he asks if I want him to fuck me. And just for the record, he'd only be fucking me if he were on top or in any position other than on his back--he wasn't on top, I was. So not five minutes into me fucking him, he's ready to finish. And I had just found out how bigger could potentially be used as better! Done like dinner. He makes a joke about the very kind third wheel and turns the volume back up on Chris Farley. Goodnight?

I didn't realise that guys were really like that! Man am I spoiled with my lovah!

The next morning, my roommate (who I don't actually share a room with) found 12 dollars under her bed just as hottie baseball knight walked in and he said: "sweet, that's better than sex!" and she said "who have you been sleeping with?" and he said "absofuckinglutely nobody, that's the problem! That's why it's better than sex!" Knife to the back, thank you very much! Now, I know we shouldn't just talk about it with everyone, but we are officially the worst kept secret in Renaissance Faire history! I think the only person who doesn't know that is him!

That day, I found out that he had gotten in a fight with his best girlfriend the day before. There is something between them that is too complicated to get into, but the point is, he was using me for spite! Now, it was understood that we were using each other, but for fun, not for spite or vengence!

So the next night, he had injured himself somehow in the day and was acting like a big baby. I did sleep next to him, but he elbowed me all night (by accident--or so he says) and we lay as far apart as possible in the same bed. Shitty shitty cold cold night. And a great day friend- and faire-wise but shitty and cold for baseball knights.

So I decided I will no longer let him have the goods. He was lying when he said he liked me alot (his spelling, not mine) and I haven't had any proper excitement with him for weeks. He used to make me shiver all over! Now he bores and upsets me.

I got home to my lovah this morning. I remembered that I reward good boyfriendship with almost unlimited access to my breasts and my lovah was redeeming that reward with relish. Man that gets boring sometimes. After wearing really tight corsets for long enough, you lose proper feeling in them anyway. So just as I was thinking that all boys must be jerks, he moved down and gave me the best orgasm I've had in a really long time. The release was so amazing, the feeling so cathartic, that I cried. That never happened before. I didn't want him to see that I was crying because, though it was about a lot of things, mostly money, I was also crying about the coldness of the coldie baseball knight. Then, while I showered, I sang Wicked really hard and cried a little more. Now I've had chinese food and I feel better.

I'm gonna listen to some (secret pop) music and reread all of your blogs. Then I'll go to my fellow mermaid's house and do arts and crafts.

I can't wait to read more about your adventures as they are a part of mine!

Pretty baby with the high heels on!

Allllllright, I'm jumping on the bandwagon and blogging about songs that make you feel goooooood!

The Way You Make Me Feel! Yes, man. Y-E-S!

That song always made me feel grrrrrreat but then Center Stage came out and now it makes me feel super duper sex awesome hot sexual sweet majestic sweaty grrrrrrrreat!

I danced around my apartment while waiting for the pizza to arrive wearing my green dress and my red heels. (not the pizza, me! though that thought is hilarious!)

Speaking of Center Stage, can I be in Center Stage? Oh! That reminds me, I have to get the Jamiroquai song from the end!

Oh! That reminds me, can I be in the dance in the Jamiroquai song from the end of Center Stage? Can I be Jodie Sawyer? That's what I wanna be when I grow up. Anything wearing red pointe shoes.

Did you know that some people don't appreciate the awesomeness that is red pointe shoes? Pointe doesn't appeal to some people! To those people, you know where you can lick and how many times.

I would love love love to be a ballerina. It's definately my number one fantasy wish.

Well, if we're wishing for number one fantasy wishes, then I'd want to be a powerfully magical, cunning, clever, beautiful fairy princess from an other world who controls the air, can fight with a sword, dagger and bow and arrow, whose voice makes people do her bidding, who can fly at any speed, can breathe underwater, has floor length black hair and a million pretty dresses, warrior outfits, accesories, and a theatre called Bottom's Dream in which she performs all sorts of performances, including...ballet...in red pointe shoes. And purple pointe shoes sometimes. And maybe black! oooh, black would be cool for dark gothic shows!...mmm I'm drooling just thinking about it!

Let's put on a ballet in which I can be my fantasy self.
What are your fantasy selves and can they be in our gothic ballet?

yearning for witty banter!

So last Tuesday at Karaoke, my lovah didn't go...but my renn friends did. Including hottie baseball knight.

I got very drunk very fast. I rocked "Out Tonight" so much, you all wish you were there. Seriously, hottest I've ever been. And I looked the hottest I've ever looked!

I don't think he was very clear about my situation. But he is now. I think. Either way, he has a nice ass and I'm having fun.

He wasn't at the faire this weekend though. No booty for me.

But just when I thought he was getting cold again, he wrote me an email just to say hi. Really, it said: "just wanted to say hi."

so I wrote "hi back" but my subject was "boys are weird" because they are.

and he wrote back "how was your weekend?"

and I wrote back "good. yours?"

and he wrote back "I'm in a weird funk that I can't shake"

and I wrote "does it help to know that when my msn thingie pops up and tells me I have an email from Hottie Baseball Knight I get really excited and I stop writing my blog to read it? Don't be sad!"

and he wrote "I just wanna go on vacation and do nothing"

and I wrote "so go on vacation and do nothing" getting bored? me, too. Where are my sexy emails??

and he wrote "I am, I'm just gonna sit by the pool and tan from head to foot and do absolutely sweet fuck all!"

and I wrote "mmmm...too early to think of you tanned from head to foot!" it starts

Now I'm just waiting for the next one...

Okay, he just wrote "ooohh no it's not" qu'est-ce que fuck? why are boys so dumb?

And I wrote "fine, then I'll let you know I'm at my computer wearing nothing but my glasses" I rock, I play!

Now I'm waiting again.

Oh man, he just wrote "NICE!!" Boringest emailer ever! I need a new one with half a brain. But ones with brains don't usually have hot asses, so I'll stick with this one.

What should I write back? He's blocking like in improv! the problem is, he's an amazing improviser! What an idiot.

Okay, I wrote "yes, I am. But now I'm eating peanut butter so the image is shattered with you going to the hospital. So just imagine me eating strawberries with chocolate sauce and whipped cream." allergic to pb, in case you didn't catch that. see? it couldn't work! we're meant to be (fuck) friends!

If he hasn't written anything good by the time I finish my sandwich, I'll end this post and let you create your own sexy ending.

...

motherfucker!

Okay, make it up yourself. tell me what you come up with!

The Mermaids - Radiant in Ribbons

I luh music.

I luh messing about with it, mixing different styles, altering my voice for different sounds, hitting things and hearing the effect.

My buddy and I wrote an album yesterday. We're awesome.

Know what's better than working in a restaurant? Writing an album.

side note: my lovah's alarm has been going off for five minutes now. Should I do something about it?

We recorded our progress, so we have a cd. It's not good quality, it's just there for us to work off of. We wrote like 7 songs yesterday! Seriously, we're geniuses!

okay, asshole, wake up! how can you not hear that??

Here are some of our song titles: Scientist Man, Missing You, She Sucks I Rock, Slow/Fast, Salalalalong, You're Fat, Boy Ballad and Fucking Boys. Still to come are Chocolate, Sleepover and Hippie Picnic. I can't wait!!!

oh my god!!! it's been seven minutes! Do you know anyone else who can sleep through high pitched beeping? It sounds like world war three!!

At the rate we're going, you'll be able to buy The Mermaids' first album "Radiant in Ribbons" in about two weeks. But I'll give them to you guys for free!

okay, now it is world war three. You're dead, deaf man!

Not a grown up

I can't do anything right.

I lose things, I'm messy, I'm lazy, I lie.
I'm irresponsible.

I can't harness the Force or God or whatever Magic I need to help me do things right.

I feel like a joke of a human being. No, a joke of an adult.

No one can rely on me, everyone keeps expecting me to fuck up and with reason! It's what I do.

I'm not going to grow up. I'm a horrible, aging Peter Pan without the skills.

I would like to apologise to everyone for all of the stupid things I've done, am doing and will do that cause you hurt or harm. I see now that I can't help it and it would be best to expect it always so you are not further dissapointed.

Make Me a Gilmore Girl

Why can't I be more like Lorelai? I mean, I kind of already am a little like her, but I want to be her.

I can't stand watching the show because it just hurts that I'm not her.

I think she's how I see myself in like 7 years. That's what 30 year olds are like. And we know how I always want to be ahead of the game. My 30's woman hotness is on it's way, I shouldn't rush it.

Especially not when I'm constantly worried about wasting my youth. I need to lose weight so I can have guys pick me up on the beach and throw me into the ocean (my example of an early 20's girl).

Maybe if I have a cup of coffee, I'll be more like Lorelai. My cell phone rings in annoying places. I rock jeans. My cousin is a lot like Suki. But I don't have a "Luke's" or a daughter or a car or an inn or rich parents or a suit.

Oh well. I like singing and she doesn't seem to sing.

AAAAAAHHHHHHH! They just told me that stupid Miss Match will be replacing Gilmore Girls every night at 5 on W! Qu'est-ce que fuck?? What am I gonna do?

My second flower part 3

Okay, so i had sex with someone else. I'm allowed. I don't feel guilty anymore.

Mainly because now I've had sex with my lovah again, and it was way better and more awesome and I feel more like myself again.

Let's see, where did I leave off? Right, hottie baseball knight was being all weird. But at the end of Saturday night's dinner (at the Olive Garden, best ever but I wasn't feeling well) he gave me a hug and a smile and said he was cool with hanging out with me later. Then I passed out in my own bed with a girl. haha. She said I was great. He was supposed to come up and knock on my hotel door so we could hang out. But he didn't.

So then, the next day, close to tears, I told his best girl friend (who, by the way, is the coolest and I love her so much! She has her own drama that we've been gossipping about at the same time as my drama) that I felt silly and stupid. she said not to and that she thinks that he is just realising that he can't have me. So I kinda felt better, even though I think that is silly, as I knew he's not looking for a relationship.

anyway, what I don't get is how I can have a crush on someone else. It's a little weirder to call it a crush when I've already had sex with him...

So that is the story of the loss of my second flower.

My second flower part 2

So the details.

The entire cast was sitting around the girlie's shitty hotel room, me and hottie baseball player in the small section towards the door. Everyone was bitching, he was bitching the most, the loudest, the angriest. Finally there was a lull on our side of the room, and I mumbled "do you know how rare it is that your room is empty?" And he said "good point."

He descreetly asked for the time and said "I'm going to bed." And I said "yeah, me too," a lot less discreetly. I'm an idiot. Note to you, don't trust me with stuff like that. Anyway, I went to his room, we started kissing, same as last week, same as the week before, except that no one was in the room...so there were no restrictions.

Very, very suddenly, it was happening. It was good (by the by, the problem of "more" was no problem. Turns out it's the same!) and fun. But, of course, being a girl, I got a little nervous...in the middle of it. Well, I didn't have time beforehand! So he said "are you okay" and I said "I'm just a little nervous...I've only done this with one other person and I'm just...worried..." blah blah blah... Then he kissed me harder but sweeter...but said nothing! Why didn't he say anything? The biggest appeal about him (other than his ass) is that he talked and stuff! That was always the fun part of the secret, quiet making out! So he said nothing, leaving me much more nervous. But whatever. I'm pretty sure I was awesome, and that is the most important thing!

It was fun. It was good. It was great. It's better with my lovah, but I don't regret what I did. (another by the by: bigger isn't better! Even my lovah thinks I'd have more fun with someone bigger, it's not true!)


So then, the next day, I felt very ignored. I felt ridiculous. Everything changed.

K I feel guilty and my lovah's home more later.

My second flower part 1

At the beginning of fourth weekend in Pennsylvania, I was planning on continuing to make out with hottie baseball knight. I had thought about sex, but I decided there will be plenty of time to do that in Switzerland with non-cast member boys. So I get to my ride at the very first day of horny week (my pill makes me a slave to hormones!) and decide to play chicken with the other night. Well he was the only one who could reach, so he won...or I did. I don't know. Either way, I'm a slut.

Then I finally get there, worked up into a frenzy, and hottie baseball knight is in a horrible mood! The hotel gave away our rooms because there was a Garfield convention--for serious, and it was Christmas themed...isn't Garfield themed enough? So all of our rooms were spread about the whole hotel and the smokers got non smoking rooms...it was really annoying, but hottie baseball knight was the most annoyed. Really pissed and moody. That is when I realised that he is the kinda guy who makes the sun shine when he smiles at you and makes it rain when he looks away. Great. I didn't need that!

Now when I got over the initial shock of seeing him upset, I realised that he was uber hot when he was angry. My condition got worse!

I talked to his best girl friend who rode up with him and told her I'd cheer him up. She said "alright, but just so you know, he's looking to get laid!"

...And he did...more details later, I'm babysitting! This is very bad form!

Let's Hear It For The Boy!

Dancingantsinmypants gave me the idea to say I love my lovah. Oh I do.

I made a list when I was little: Everything I want in a guy. This list included:

*Intelligent
*Non-smoker
*Makes me laugh
*Gets excited when I'm excited
*Cooks
*Is not a suit
*Looks good in a suit
*Loves his and my family

Things like that.

Now, my lovah has all of those qualities, but I overlooked a very important one. I didn't have "I make him laugh."

And I do.

And now, that's one of my favourite things about him! I LOVE making him laugh! his eyes get all cute when he laughs and then he hugs me. nothing is better than that.

Tall, blond, skinny, sexy. Can't help lovin' that man of mine.

Sex, lies and blog

Yikes! My cousin wants to read my blog. Should I let my family see this side of me? Well...I guess the only thing I'm worried about is the me having an open relationship and making out with hottie baseball player thing...But I don't care so she shouldn't, right? I don't judge her! Who is she to judge?!

(Side note: I met with the father of my Swiss charge again and again, he is the cutest man ever. He's so awesome! He wants me to send him a cd of me singing so he can find a band for me!!! OH, the point: he said he didn't have many questions for me because he goes with his gut and he DOESN'T JUDGE. I love people who don't judge.)

I'm having an artsmonkey moment; should I censor myself? For what? I don't really want/need to have secrets. I mean, this cousin won't mind at all. But what if she tells other family members. I know my mom wouldn't understand, I showed her a picture of hottie baseball player on my phone and when she said "he's cute" I said "I know" and she said "Claaaaaaaire!" and I was like "yo, bitch, get out ma face!" But really I was like "what? we're just friends!" Like I'm not allowed to think another guy is cute and take pictures of his ass. You can't tell me what to do, you're not the boss of me anymore! I'm having cookies before dinner!

And it's not like I'd be ashamed if my whole fam damily knew stuff about me, I just don't really want to have any stupid talks about it. I loathe serious talks. Except when they're on stage. And even then, I insist on laughing.

Oh well, Welcome [insert my cousin's blog name here] to the blog world and enjoy every detail of your cousin's life! Just don't tell ANYONE! Maybe I'll get to learn some things about you, too!

PS Congratulations to those bloggers who don't think twice before divulging all of your secrets!

Cry If I Want To Part 2/Baby Got Back

My family isn't throwing me a birthday! Just because I'm busy on the weekends and they are busy during the week. I cried when my mom told me that!

Qu'est-ce que fuck?! I really wanted a party! I can't afford cake whenever I want! I can't afford snacks! I can't afford the company of my family all the time! And I certainly can't afford pretty fairy hair ties, which is really all I wanted as presents.

humph.

In other news, hottie baseball player has caught me in a trap. He is the sweetest thing by night and totally aloof by knight (he plays a knight). Now I'm a little too interested.

At the end of yesterday, he took off most of his costume so he was just wearing his black velvet tights and knee high boots. Oh man. I stared so shamelessly. He noticed, but I notice when he stares at my boobs! Now he knows how it feels! ...kinda nice...but kinda creepy! But nice.

I need advice from Bedroom Prince on certain aspects of equipment that I'm not familiar with...it involves having more than I'm used to. Not more size, necessarily...but just more...you know?

There is so much to learn!

lost ring cat scratch no la vie boheme blues

Okay, first of all, in real player, my "rent mix" (a playlist that consists of my favourites from both the show and the movie) is for some stupid reason not working! Everything else is! I really wanna get ready to out tonight today!

Secondly, my cat had a hissy fit (literally, he was hissing like crazy) last night and scratched me a lot on my hands and wrists! I mean, yeah I look more like a warrior, but a lot less like a sane person...usually the look I'm going for.

I lost the ring that hottie baseball player gave me. That's not nice! I have to buy a new one when I get there just so I don't offend him. I suck!

There are almost done banannas in the kitchen that I WANT to eat! I really do! I just don't want to...

I get to play with a baby today! Hopefully, she'll remind me why I SHOULD NOT have a baby right now. Probably, she will make me want to have a baby right now.

There's this girl on msn whose name is "life is always waiting for you to live it!" Where does she get off?

I didn't get fired. I didn't get another job! Not cool.

I have pizza pockets in the oven! Woo hoo! Pizza for breakfast! Life is good!

I miss my friends. I had dinner with an old friend. We ended (as in divorced) a couple of years ago and it was awful. Very bad break up. Our dinner was light and casual and fun. And now, apparantly we're friends again. I need my other friends, the ones I've gotten close to in the past two years and the ones I loved in school, to help me stay me! where are you?

My lovah told me that I have beautiful eyes last night. And that I have great eyes. I think he rarely compliments me so that when he does, I have a tiny orgasm.

I want to write something. Almost only for the purpose of surprising people. Most people who know me don't think I write. They're right, but wouldn't it be cool if I did? However, if I had a writer friend who put out a cd or something, I'd be pretty pissed.

I just showered and my feet are still dirty. That means it's SUMMER!

I fell asleep on the couch last night and woke up with a broken arm. Well, that's what it felt like!

I'm starting to doubt weather Snape is good...I mean, he did kill Dumbledore...

I have a cavity and there's nothing I can do about it. Because sitting on your ass does not have a dental plan.

I don't have shoes again for the faire this weekend. I have to buy some today...for...2 dollars? I have a fan though! no face sweat for me!

If one more person tells me I'm sunburnt, I'll scream!

The way I'm sitting at my computer makes me look like a big ball of fat rolls! when I sit up, I look like a goddess!

There. My head is completely empty.

burn

Ow. The sun hates me.

Holy crap. I totally got some Penn Renn action.

Making out with hottie baseball player was super duper fun.

This is a guy who I thought hated me all last summer. I thought he was so indifferent this summer...and turns out he likes me. He thinks I'm beautiful and...now he bought me a ring from the faire. great.

um, am I a bitch? I just wanted to make out! He knows that no one can replace my lovah! No one ever! Meh...does this mean I have to not make out with him next weekend? he's ruining my perfect situation with feelings! What is he, a woman?

In other news, I'm pretty close to being fired. I don't know why my boss has held on to me this long, I really deserve to be fired. I'm sun struck from the weekend...but really I just have to be at a school today because it is the play Annie! I didn't tell him that, I told him I have heat stroke.

I'm gonna get a doctors note to prove it! But that's just for the principal...maybe I should make it obvious that I'm lying so I can really really get fired. I found a new nannying job, but someone just quit at the restaurant and I don't want to leave them hanging...but hanging I shall have to leave them if I don't find anyone else...

I am a bitch. Usually I care more about others, I swear.

Okay, I have to go get completely ready for Annie...I have no props or costumes prepared. somebody kill me.

Cry if I Want To

That's right. It's my birthday.

I'm 23 years old...and exactly where I should be.

before you read this, I'd like you to know that I'm in a wonderful mood (with a slight hangover). I don't feel like crying at all!

Now...Exactly where I should be. I've always known my place. Inately that is. I never put myself in my place, I just exist there. For example, this girl told me I was square when I was 11. I was asking her to hook me up with a guy and she was saying that he would want to do more than just kiss. A lot more. And I just thought, I'm not square, I'm eleven!

These were the goals I made two years ago for my 23rd birthday:

-I must have a computer (check!)
-I must have had at least three paying gigs (just started my third!)
-I must have a paying gig lined up (well, I have one for september...I just might not be able to do it)
-I must be with the man I will marry (stupid goal, but I acheived it nonetheless)
-I must be able to pay $750 rent by myself (wow. okay, well I could work like a motherfucker. I could work harder at being a server and take more shifts, but I choose not to. Good choice, eh?)


I think there was one about travelling...but I'm doing that in the fall in abundance. so I'm cool with that.

My ultimate goal is to be AHEAD OF THE GAME. Not because I'm hard on myself, but because I'm greedy and selfish. I want a lot of stuff and I want it now!

I'm so boring being exactly where I should be. Why am I not immortal? Or worshipped? Or at the very least, rich and famous?! I'm a normal, struggling, in love, on-my-way 23 year old!
BORING!

I need to publish a book right now, get a great gig right now, get married right now, start a charity right now, open a theatre right now and create a tv show right now!

At least, and I really believe this, I far surpass everyone in friendship. Not that I'm a superior friend, oh not by any means. But for some awesome reason, I have the most superior friends ever! I miss and love everyone so much! There are so many of you! And so close (to my heart)!

Happy Birthday to me!

Satisfaction

Ahh.

Got some.

Who am I, Charlie Brown?/Torture

Sometimes, I feel like the smartest person in the world. I have it all figured out. I know the answer to everything.

But usually, I feel stupid. I feel uneducated, unitelligent...unsmart. I don't have good ideas, and when I do, I can't express them right. or well. or at all.

I can't write. My sentence pulling together skills are crap. I'm not clever. I'm not witty. I'm not unique or original.

I don't get politics or world issues or science or math or evolution or why the sky is blue or how to budjet or big words...

After reading my circle of blogs, I kind of felt like the dumbest among them. (They're quoting Sartre and referring to Simone de Bauvoir...who by the way I knew were lovahs!)

Okay, I know I'm not stupid. But I feel very inadequate in many areas of my life. The smartest thing I've done, though, is made friends with smart people! I love my intelligent, witty, clever, funny, punny, educated friends. And I live with the smartest person I know!

***

I have a very different idea to post.

I am sexually charged. Unfortunately, it wasn't because of my lovah!

I have a gig in Pennsylvania on the weekends with a group of people who are...well, actors. Naturally, a big group of rennies (Renaissance Faire people) stuck in a hotel on a rainy weekend is bound to end up in some form of an orgy. Ours was a massage orgy (not the best kind, but a good kind nonetheless).

Now, one of this group is a baseball player.

Mmmm.

Sorry, drooling.

His arms are beeeutiful. His abs are fantastic. His lips are adorable. His legs are delicious.
This guy's ass is dreamy. It's hot. It's hmmmm...drooling again.... it's perfect.

He gave me a massage from head to toe. Well, from toe to head. He cuddled me to "sleep." (sleep is in quotes because I couldn't sleep at all, not when I was that excited!) He breathed into my ear. I told him he was teasing me. In all fairness I was teasing him...a lot. And he told me so. So I said I'd stop. And he said no. Why couldn't we stop? Teasing is AWESOME. He told me it was my fault for having a boyfriend, that's why we couldn't go any further. I told him my boyfriend doesn't care about stuff like that. He still respected my relationship. Asshole.

It was the first out of SEVEN weekends. I'm fucked! Well, not literally...hopefully not literally! Unless it's by my lovah. Who couldn't come home until 4 am last night, so I had to make do with the internet. ARGH!

Now that I'm home, I asked my lovah if he really didn't mind about stuff like making out. He already asked me this before and I said: "no you retard, what the hell do I care, just don't love anyone more than me." Which would be impossible because I'm the awesomest and no one else would put up with him. So I figured his answer would be the same. And I won't love anyone better than him because he's the awesomest and no one else would put up with me. His answer was the same. He said he was surprised we already didn't make out. So it's settled...

For some lucky reason, there was no alcohol. A whole motherfucking weekend of foreplay and no alcohol makes Alathariel a dull boy...what? Whatever.

Next weekend I'm going Bedroom Prince style--that's a bottle half full of orange juice and half full of vodka.

Seriously, though, I need another image in my head than his ass. I can't stop thinking about it!

Oh! And a tight knit group like us obviously give each other ass slaps in stead of high fives, right? Well, this dude gives the best fucking ass slaps in the world! plush on the middle of the cheek. And those who know me know I love my ass. A lot....meh, I'm gonna pass out...

That's it! Lovah, wake up! I need some booty NOW!