I feel like I told this blog exactly what happened with me and Evan in the past three years, so it's time I come back and tell you, blogger, that Evan fucked some skanky fish woman. I'm dealin'. Kind of.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Sunday, May 22, 2011
AN ODE TO ASHLEY
Ashley was offended by things I've said about her in this blog before (as she should be), so to make it up to her, I will write a very, very bad sonnet for her.
OH, ASHLEY, YOUR HAIR IS SO DAMN CURLY
YOUR TOES ARE DAINTY AND YOUR LEGS ARE LONG
YOUR TUM'S FLAT AND YOUR ARMS ARE NOT BURLY
I WOULD SMOKE THAT FUNKY ASS FROM A BONG
YEAH, SO WHAT? I'M NOT SO GOOD AT RHYMING
THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER TO YOU, MY BITCH?
I'D DO YOU HARD TO HEAR THE BELLS CHIMING
WEDDING BELLS, YOU KNOW, 'CAUSE WE ARE SO RICH
BECAUSE WEDDINGS REQUIRE SOME MONEY
AND I'M GOING TO MARRY YOU. GET IT?
I'D EAT MY FINGERNAILS TO BE YOUR HONEY
I'D PISS ON YOUR FACE AND EAT MY OWN SHIT
BUT ONLY, MY DEAR, IF YOU'LL FORGIVE ME
IF NOT, FOREVER ALONE I WILL BE
YOUR TOES ARE DAINTY AND YOUR LEGS ARE LONG
YOUR TUM'S FLAT AND YOUR ARMS ARE NOT BURLY
I WOULD SMOKE THAT FUNKY ASS FROM A BONG
YEAH, SO WHAT? I'M NOT SO GOOD AT RHYMING
THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER TO YOU, MY BITCH?
I'D DO YOU HARD TO HEAR THE BELLS CHIMING
WEDDING BELLS, YOU KNOW, 'CAUSE WE ARE SO RICH
BECAUSE WEDDINGS REQUIRE SOME MONEY
AND I'M GOING TO MARRY YOU. GET IT?
I'D EAT MY FINGERNAILS TO BE YOUR HONEY
I'D PISS ON YOUR FACE AND EAT MY OWN SHIT
BUT ONLY, MY DEAR, IF YOU'LL FORGIVE ME
IF NOT, FOREVER ALONE I WILL BE
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Hoo-ee, I Guess I'm Cool or Something
Bethany nominated me for a thing.
It's the Versatile Blogger award, and while I'm far from being a versatile blogger, I might as well do it. The rules are as follows:
1: Winners grab this image and put it in their blog.
2: Link back to the person who gave it to you. That's Bethany.
3: Tell 10 things about yourself.
4: Award 15 recently discovered bloggers. I don't have any.
5: Tell those nonexistent winners that they've won.
Sooo, 10 things about myself.
1: I know no discretion. To prove it, I'll tell you that I've been having foamy diarrhea ever since my family started eating healthier.
2: I dream of impossible romances and am currently ruining my own relationship because it doesn't meet my impossible standards.
3: I desperately want to hold a baby right now. A soft, blue-eyed, ruddy-cheeked baby boy. I wanna kiss his forehead. I think my maternal desires are coming a little too early.
4: I'm suffering from severe depression because I'm about to lose absolutely everything. When I go to college, my only two friends will be too far away to see me, and I'll be even farther from Evan than I am now. It's hard enough only seeing him on weekends, but it'll be even harder to see him only on SOME weekends. I'll lose familiar Fairfield, I'll lose my family, my cats, my cozy bed, and my nights of solitude. I'll lose the ability to fuck around and not give a fuck about my grades. I'm going to lose everything and gain nothing in return.
5: I still miss Stanley, the Venus Fly Trap that gave this blog his name. I would like a replacement.
6: I hope to get by in life without doing a damn thing.
7: I don't expect to live much longer, and because of this, I want to accomplish everything that I can as quickly as I can. Marriage, a house, a baby - all this as soon as possible. Not necessarily with Evan, since he does not have my "life is short" attitude, but with somebody. Hopefully someone who loves me exactly how I need to be loved.
8: I have two thongs with sushi print on them.
9: I'VE GOT DADDY ISSUES.
10: I've regressed back into childhood and spend several hours a day playing Neopets.
I did this mostly for my own sake and Bethany's, and since I don't know any other bloggers and they don't know me, I'm gonna stop it now. Maybe I'll blog more often this summer. Probably not.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Growing Up is for Pricks
I've known several people now that have been affected negatively by college. Those who get accepted into good schools automatically assume that they're geniuses, and many who receive impressive scholarships don't do so humbly. Ass seniors complain often about, "Ohhh, yeees, I was up until three in the mooorning last night filling out applicaaations. I haaaaaate it, I doooooo." The way you say it is enough to let me know that you're feeling super full of yourself. I can't even afford fucking application fees.
And then there are the people who actually go off to college. The moment they get over there, they change for the worse. Suddenly the sweetest, humblest people are going, "Aha, I didn't study at aaaall but I still got a perfect scoooore," and I'm thinking, "Wow, you're becoming one of the people for which you've always lacked respect." When asked if they've done anything illegal, they reply, "Not yeeeet," and you're not really sure if they're joking or not. The people they loved back home are mere accessories, something to make small talk about with their looooads of neeew and exciiiiting friends. They're exciting because they're crappy. Don't think I haven't seen how people look at you. That's not respect. That's not the way a friend looks at you.
WHY AM I SO DEMANDING AND NEGATIVE?
But, my point is: I'M NOT GOING TO COLLEGE. I'd like to keep my superiority complex, but I'd like to continue to have regular teenage hatred for myself. I can hate myself and still think I'm better than everyone else. It's the people who DON'T hate themselves that really cheese me off. Sure, think you're better than me; I understand and I can relate. But if you think you're better than me and that you're a wonderful person, fuuuuck. Think that you're better than me and also that you're the scum of the earth. THAT is the world I want to live in, not the stupid college world.
Cheyenne isn't going to college and she already has an apartment. I can do it. I'm going to do it. My mom can keep calling me a flake, but she helped me reach this decision. She kept yelling at me for wasting so much money on college. She kept saying how college would change me, that I would lose the majority of my friends there, and that I'd be stressed out every day. Well, fuck, woman! If my entire family has never completed college and is doing just fine, I think I can do the same.
Mom says, "I got lucky! I have talent and someone saw!"
Well, fuck. Guess I'm screwed, then, Mom. I'm definitely talentless.
Moral of this post: If you're in college, you're an ass and I hope you get food poisoning next time you eat at Chili Yummy without me.
And then there are the people who actually go off to college. The moment they get over there, they change for the worse. Suddenly the sweetest, humblest people are going, "Aha, I didn't study at aaaall but I still got a perfect scoooore," and I'm thinking, "Wow, you're becoming one of the people for which you've always lacked respect." When asked if they've done anything illegal, they reply, "Not yeeeet," and you're not really sure if they're joking or not. The people they loved back home are mere accessories, something to make small talk about with their looooads of neeew and exciiiiting friends. They're exciting because they're crappy. Don't think I haven't seen how people look at you. That's not respect. That's not the way a friend looks at you.
WHY AM I SO DEMANDING AND NEGATIVE?
But, my point is: I'M NOT GOING TO COLLEGE. I'd like to keep my superiority complex, but I'd like to continue to have regular teenage hatred for myself. I can hate myself and still think I'm better than everyone else. It's the people who DON'T hate themselves that really cheese me off. Sure, think you're better than me; I understand and I can relate. But if you think you're better than me and that you're a wonderful person, fuuuuck. Think that you're better than me and also that you're the scum of the earth. THAT is the world I want to live in, not the stupid college world.
Cheyenne isn't going to college and she already has an apartment. I can do it. I'm going to do it. My mom can keep calling me a flake, but she helped me reach this decision. She kept yelling at me for wasting so much money on college. She kept saying how college would change me, that I would lose the majority of my friends there, and that I'd be stressed out every day. Well, fuck, woman! If my entire family has never completed college and is doing just fine, I think I can do the same.
Mom says, "I got lucky! I have talent and someone saw!"
Well, fuck. Guess I'm screwed, then, Mom. I'm definitely talentless.
Moral of this post: If you're in college, you're an ass and I hope you get food poisoning next time you eat at Chili Yummy without me.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Excessive Worrying: Life Itself
I have a new idea. I'm going to list off all the things that are making me depressed lately, and, one by one, i am going to remove them from my life. I will probably elaborate too much on some of them. Here goes nothing.
1. I am almost always convinced that Evan no longer loves me.
For whatever reason, Evan being in college is like having seventeen tiny people hacking away at my insides with rusty knives and spoons. He doesn't like to talk on the phone - because of the dropped calls and inability to hear each other all of the time, he says - so whenever I call or have him call, I feel super guilty and think that he sounds quite monotone and apathetic toward me. I have to talk nonstop or face the silence - he doesn't talk, no matter what - and the constant jabbering makes me feel even more selfish. I've told him more than once that if he doesn't at least try to communicate with me, things aren't going to work. He doesn't understand what I mean. I mean that communicating is more than just picking up the phone, saying "hello" and then sitting in silence while I talk. He should listen, he should respond, and I should do the same for him. It's not supposed to be so one-sided. Is that so fucking hard to understand?
I guess my problem is that I love him. I love him too much. He has admitted more than once that he does not love me the same way that I love him, and while it's incredibly painful to hear and even more painful to endure, day after day, month after month - and as of this next Sunday, our two-year mark - year after year, I'm not going to leave. Maybe I'm too hopeful. Maybe I hope that someday, somehow, he'll change his mind. Maybe he'll stop saying, "I love you, but I'm not in love with you," and maybe he'll stop telling me that he doesn't think that our relationship will go anywhere.
Or maybe I'm just setting myself up to get my heart broken.
Whatever. It's a good lesson.
I should probably break this down into sub levels.
1. I am almost always convinced that Evan no longer loves me.
a. I believe that calling me is the worst part of his day.
b. I believe that he is not making an attempt to communicate with me and thus trying to end our relationship.
c. He has said, more than once, that he does not feel for me what I feel for him, so why is he still with me?
d. He moved on super fast after moving to college. He has never missed me, still does not feel any sort of need to talk to me, and only seems happy to be with me when he's actually, physically with me.
Onto the next point.
2. I'm honestly nearly friendless.
Bethany has become the only person that I can definitely call my friend. I love how close we are - or at least how close we feel to me - but she has other friends, and she has responsibilities and hobbies and she can't always dote on me. I had three consecutive nightmares involving Evan last night, and Bethany appeared in each of them, there to hug me or impatiently listen to me whine. She's my one and only friend, but is that okay? Is it healthy to only have one person to talk to?
Maybe I should explain why she is now my only friend. Somewhere along the way - I think right before Evan went to basic training - I started becoming really, horribly intolerant of everyone. I used to find the good in everybody - even the crappiest people - but I've found that that can bring lots of bad things into my life. There was that one boy who verbally and emotionally abused me for several years before I finally went, "You know what? FUCK OFF," but of course telling him that only caused him to lash out, spread rumors, threaten to report me (for what, I don't know), etc. It was good for me, kind of, to start standing up for myself. But this intolerance that I've gained is different from that. I can't stand anyone. Everyone has some major flaw that I can't stand - maybe they talk too much about themselves (but so do I), or maybe they bring up their sex life too often (but so do I), or maybe they're crude, loud, obsessive, and lack self-respect (but so am I).
I lost Ashley at some point. She got a beau, Ramses, which I was fine with and had been supporting for quite some time (I was almost always the third wheel before they finally got the courage to be alone together). Well, long story short, she's a hypocrite but won't apologize for it, she's getting some sort of unstoppable superiority complex ("Oh, look at my hideous painting that I know isn't hideous at all. Look at it. Isn't it hideous? Oh, I know. I don't know why I'm painting it and carrying it around the school for everyone to see"), and she blew off Bethany and Shannon.
Also, Ramses turned out to be a total prick! I thought he was a super sweetheart and had a bit of a platonic crush on him over the summer, but holy shit, being in a relationship sure can change people. Being with Ashley got him several more friends, and he dropped his cute, awkward personality for a straight-backed, constantly sneering, holier-than-thou personality that I just can't stand.
I'm sure I'm exaggerating. I'm positive I am. But hey, I'm due to have my period any day now and goddamn it, I need a fucking outlet right now.
SO.
2. I'm honestly nearly friendless.
a. Bethany is my only true friend, but she's not (and will never be) my girlfriend. I can't always have her around.
b. I cannot tolerate anyone ever.
c. I lost Ashley and Ramses to some strange black hole.
And, finally:
3. Derp, what's a future?
Now that I'm a senior in my second semester, I'm flipping shit. I'm not allowed to go to the University of Iowa, apparently. I have to go to Indian Hills. But because of my stupid, masochistic, obsessive personality, I want to go to U of I. I want to get a fucking apartment with my fucking apathetic beau and lead a stupid, naggy, insecure life.
(Now that I'm trying to explain this, I realize just how much of a moron I am.)
Fuck that. I'm never going to live with Evan. He promised me this. GAH.
Well, regardless, I want to go to U of I, and I have since before I started dating Evan. I've heard it's really great for artists and writers. I might have wanted to be both at one point, so I figure I'd better pretend that I'm still interested in all of that shit and go for it.
God, I don't even know what I'm interested in. I'm interested in Evan, but only believe that he's interested in me when he's near me. I'm interested in doing meaningless projects in 2-D art (we're currently practicing layering with paint, and I'm painting a floppy, plastic flower that makes me feel like Van Gogh). I'm interested in people, usually, but am too depressed currently to be interested in anyone but myself. I'm interested in... fantasy. Um, stars. Deities. Grass and clouds and tree bark. Jazz and orchestras. Mr. Miklo and Mr. Cukierski (oh, I'm very interested).
I don't know yet. I'll have to figure it out. If I have to drive back and forth from Indian Hills every day for the next two years, well, fine. If that's my only option. Otherwise, I'm going to do whatever the fuck I feel like doing and I'm going to be happy for once.
1. I am almost always convinced that Evan no longer loves me.
For whatever reason, Evan being in college is like having seventeen tiny people hacking away at my insides with rusty knives and spoons. He doesn't like to talk on the phone - because of the dropped calls and inability to hear each other all of the time, he says - so whenever I call or have him call, I feel super guilty and think that he sounds quite monotone and apathetic toward me. I have to talk nonstop or face the silence - he doesn't talk, no matter what - and the constant jabbering makes me feel even more selfish. I've told him more than once that if he doesn't at least try to communicate with me, things aren't going to work. He doesn't understand what I mean. I mean that communicating is more than just picking up the phone, saying "hello" and then sitting in silence while I talk. He should listen, he should respond, and I should do the same for him. It's not supposed to be so one-sided. Is that so fucking hard to understand?
I guess my problem is that I love him. I love him too much. He has admitted more than once that he does not love me the same way that I love him, and while it's incredibly painful to hear and even more painful to endure, day after day, month after month - and as of this next Sunday, our two-year mark - year after year, I'm not going to leave. Maybe I'm too hopeful. Maybe I hope that someday, somehow, he'll change his mind. Maybe he'll stop saying, "I love you, but I'm not in love with you," and maybe he'll stop telling me that he doesn't think that our relationship will go anywhere.
Or maybe I'm just setting myself up to get my heart broken.
Whatever. It's a good lesson.
I should probably break this down into sub levels.
1. I am almost always convinced that Evan no longer loves me.
a. I believe that calling me is the worst part of his day.
b. I believe that he is not making an attempt to communicate with me and thus trying to end our relationship.
c. He has said, more than once, that he does not feel for me what I feel for him, so why is he still with me?
d. He moved on super fast after moving to college. He has never missed me, still does not feel any sort of need to talk to me, and only seems happy to be with me when he's actually, physically with me.
Onto the next point.
2. I'm honestly nearly friendless.
Bethany has become the only person that I can definitely call my friend. I love how close we are - or at least how close we feel to me - but she has other friends, and she has responsibilities and hobbies and she can't always dote on me. I had three consecutive nightmares involving Evan last night, and Bethany appeared in each of them, there to hug me or impatiently listen to me whine. She's my one and only friend, but is that okay? Is it healthy to only have one person to talk to?
Maybe I should explain why she is now my only friend. Somewhere along the way - I think right before Evan went to basic training - I started becoming really, horribly intolerant of everyone. I used to find the good in everybody - even the crappiest people - but I've found that that can bring lots of bad things into my life. There was that one boy who verbally and emotionally abused me for several years before I finally went, "You know what? FUCK OFF," but of course telling him that only caused him to lash out, spread rumors, threaten to report me (for what, I don't know), etc. It was good for me, kind of, to start standing up for myself. But this intolerance that I've gained is different from that. I can't stand anyone. Everyone has some major flaw that I can't stand - maybe they talk too much about themselves (but so do I), or maybe they bring up their sex life too often (but so do I), or maybe they're crude, loud, obsessive, and lack self-respect (but so am I).
I lost Ashley at some point. She got a beau, Ramses, which I was fine with and had been supporting for quite some time (I was almost always the third wheel before they finally got the courage to be alone together). Well, long story short, she's a hypocrite but won't apologize for it, she's getting some sort of unstoppable superiority complex ("Oh, look at my hideous painting that I know isn't hideous at all. Look at it. Isn't it hideous? Oh, I know. I don't know why I'm painting it and carrying it around the school for everyone to see"), and she blew off Bethany and Shannon.
Also, Ramses turned out to be a total prick! I thought he was a super sweetheart and had a bit of a platonic crush on him over the summer, but holy shit, being in a relationship sure can change people. Being with Ashley got him several more friends, and he dropped his cute, awkward personality for a straight-backed, constantly sneering, holier-than-thou personality that I just can't stand.
I'm sure I'm exaggerating. I'm positive I am. But hey, I'm due to have my period any day now and goddamn it, I need a fucking outlet right now.
SO.
2. I'm honestly nearly friendless.
a. Bethany is my only true friend, but she's not (and will never be) my girlfriend. I can't always have her around.
b. I cannot tolerate anyone ever.
c. I lost Ashley and Ramses to some strange black hole.
And, finally:
3. Derp, what's a future?
Now that I'm a senior in my second semester, I'm flipping shit. I'm not allowed to go to the University of Iowa, apparently. I have to go to Indian Hills. But because of my stupid, masochistic, obsessive personality, I want to go to U of I. I want to get a fucking apartment with my fucking apathetic beau and lead a stupid, naggy, insecure life.
(Now that I'm trying to explain this, I realize just how much of a moron I am.)
Fuck that. I'm never going to live with Evan. He promised me this. GAH.
Well, regardless, I want to go to U of I, and I have since before I started dating Evan. I've heard it's really great for artists and writers. I might have wanted to be both at one point, so I figure I'd better pretend that I'm still interested in all of that shit and go for it.
God, I don't even know what I'm interested in. I'm interested in Evan, but only believe that he's interested in me when he's near me. I'm interested in doing meaningless projects in 2-D art (we're currently practicing layering with paint, and I'm painting a floppy, plastic flower that makes me feel like Van Gogh). I'm interested in people, usually, but am too depressed currently to be interested in anyone but myself. I'm interested in... fantasy. Um, stars. Deities. Grass and clouds and tree bark. Jazz and orchestras. Mr. Miklo and Mr. Cukierski (oh, I'm very interested).
I don't know yet. I'll have to figure it out. If I have to drive back and forth from Indian Hills every day for the next two years, well, fine. If that's my only option. Otherwise, I'm going to do whatever the fuck I feel like doing and I'm going to be happy for once.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Oh, Lordy.
There are too many people telling me what I can and can't do - Dani, you can't go to U of I, you have to go to Indian Hills. You can't go to college at all without being in debt for the rest of your life. You can't keep this relationship going. You can't expect Evan to be down every weekend. Well, maybe I can't, but Jesus, fuck off. Let me live. I've been terrified for the past month or two - terrified of everything - because no one will let me think about the present, myself least of all. I'm completely and utterly absorbed in the future. What will become of my relationship? Can I really go to college? What happens after that? Will I ever get married? Will I truly be in debt for an eternity? What am I supposed to be doing to ensure a safe future for myself?
The human mind is a bitch. I'd rather be a rodent.
The human mind is a bitch. I'd rather be a rodent.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Excessive Worrying: Road Trippin'
Bethany, Ashley and I are going to Minnesota today. BY OURSELVES. Needless to say, I'm scared out of my mind. Think of all the things that could go wrong! We could get in a car accident (it's much more likely that Bethany's GPS will lead us to a black hole in the center of the state), we could be murdered by vicious Minnesotans, terrorists could decide to blow up the Mall of America while we're there... Worst of all, I wouldn't have said good-bye to Evan! I wrote him a letter, but I'm all out of envelopes and stamps. My dad has my car today, so I can't go buy any of the letter-sending necessities.
Imagine how terrible he will feel if I die while he's away. He hasn't seen me for five weeks, and then he would never see me again. At least he wouldn't feel responsible. I can't think of a single way that he could feel that me having my throat slit by Ashley's grandma (who we are staying with) is his fault. Guess he'll get over my inevitable death eventually. Maybe he'll be relieved to escape my evil, loving caresses.
While we're in Minnesota, we'll be going to Music Man, the Mall of America, the Spam Museum (what the heck is that?), and the Mayo Clinic (pffft). I am bringing $459 with me, just because I can (being employed is great!). I'm going to buy my brother, Jace, a treat, which I will only give to him if he successfully keeps Lieutenant Prurient alive while I'm away. Hopefully I'll spend way too much on something related to an anime I love. A giant stuffed Kon, perhaps? I doubt I'll find one, but it's nice to dream. I can at least buy some CDs at the FYE that the mall must have. I would also like some really, really, REALLY high socks. Maybe a swimsuit, too, since I don't actually own one.
I wonder if we'll even enjoy ourselves? Even though we're best friends, we often hate each other quite passionately. The last time I stayed with Ashley for more than one night, I was ready to rip her throat out. I'm sure the feeling was mutual. But a whole week with them? Sheesh. Bethany's refusing to spend any money, so I'm worried that she's going to be upset, and if she is, we won't be able to have any fun. I'm sure I'll be quite the fun-sucker, too. I've been known to complain incessantly. I'll probably moan and groan about not being able to check my Pokefarm (there's no internet at Ashley's grandma's), and I'll whine about not getting letters from Evan.
The amusement park at the Mall of America is no longer an option, since Bethany said, "If you go on the rides, I'll just sit on a bench while you have fun." I don't especially want Bethany to get kidnapped and raped in a bathroom somewhere, so I'm not going on the rides, either (though I would really like to).
My walls are lookin' pretty bare... I think I need some more Pokemon posters. A Bleach poster or two would be nice, too. Maybe Soul Eater as well? I'll have to look for some!
We leave in an hour and a half. NERVES, NERVES. I'm scaaared. Even if Ashley's a good driver, we don't know what the hell we're doing. GPS systems are notorious for being completely inaccurate, so I have a hunch that we're going to get lost and have to sleep in Ashley's car. Urk.
Well, if I die, I'm sure Evan will check my blog eventually, so here:
I DIDN'T MEAN TO DIE. PLEASE FORGIVE ME. I HOPE TO BE REINCARNATED AS A WALRUS. Love ya, soldier.
Imagine how terrible he will feel if I die while he's away. He hasn't seen me for five weeks, and then he would never see me again. At least he wouldn't feel responsible. I can't think of a single way that he could feel that me having my throat slit by Ashley's grandma (who we are staying with) is his fault. Guess he'll get over my inevitable death eventually. Maybe he'll be relieved to escape my evil, loving caresses.
While we're in Minnesota, we'll be going to Music Man, the Mall of America, the Spam Museum (what the heck is that?), and the Mayo Clinic (pffft). I am bringing $459 with me, just because I can (being employed is great!). I'm going to buy my brother, Jace, a treat, which I will only give to him if he successfully keeps Lieutenant Prurient alive while I'm away. Hopefully I'll spend way too much on something related to an anime I love. A giant stuffed Kon, perhaps? I doubt I'll find one, but it's nice to dream. I can at least buy some CDs at the FYE that the mall must have. I would also like some really, really, REALLY high socks. Maybe a swimsuit, too, since I don't actually own one.
I wonder if we'll even enjoy ourselves? Even though we're best friends, we often hate each other quite passionately. The last time I stayed with Ashley for more than one night, I was ready to rip her throat out. I'm sure the feeling was mutual. But a whole week with them? Sheesh. Bethany's refusing to spend any money, so I'm worried that she's going to be upset, and if she is, we won't be able to have any fun. I'm sure I'll be quite the fun-sucker, too. I've been known to complain incessantly. I'll probably moan and groan about not being able to check my Pokefarm (there's no internet at Ashley's grandma's), and I'll whine about not getting letters from Evan.
The amusement park at the Mall of America is no longer an option, since Bethany said, "If you go on the rides, I'll just sit on a bench while you have fun." I don't especially want Bethany to get kidnapped and raped in a bathroom somewhere, so I'm not going on the rides, either (though I would really like to).
My walls are lookin' pretty bare... I think I need some more Pokemon posters. A Bleach poster or two would be nice, too. Maybe Soul Eater as well? I'll have to look for some!
We leave in an hour and a half. NERVES, NERVES. I'm scaaared. Even if Ashley's a good driver, we don't know what the hell we're doing. GPS systems are notorious for being completely inaccurate, so I have a hunch that we're going to get lost and have to sleep in Ashley's car. Urk.
Well, if I die, I'm sure Evan will check my blog eventually, so here:
I DIDN'T MEAN TO DIE. PLEASE FORGIVE ME. I HOPE TO BE REINCARNATED AS A WALRUS. Love ya, soldier.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Excessive Worrying: Evan's a Killing Machine!
This summer hasn't been so bad. It is going by both quickly and incredibly slowly. I would say that the days are long, but the weeks are short (is that a song lyric?). I usually get one or two letters from Evan a week. He has only been able to call me twice in... five weeks? Or is it four?
He called me today. When I picked up the phone, I expected a, "Hello, is Yo-say Haynes available?" or, "Is Lily Haynes there?" I expected to snap, "No, and it's Josie/Lyle HAN-NES." I pick up every strange number that calls my house now, in hopes of getting Evan, and they're usually telemarketers. But this time, an uncertain, familiar voice asked for Dani, and my heart skipped a beat! Evaaan!
It was hard to talk to him, since we kept accidentally interrupting each other and I kept stumbling over my words. The phone he was using wasn't very good, either, so I had trouble hearing him. But it was him, and that was enough to get my eyes a-waterin' (the sniffling didn't help to make our conversation any easier). In response to a letter I sent him, he assured me that I can still wear the pants in our relationship when he comes home, and that I can still take care of him. It still seems strange to me, though. He knows how to shoot guns. He's a killing machine now! Won't it be weird to hold the head of a killing machine on my lap? I can't imagine running my fingers through the hair of a man that has thrown grenades. Do I want to make dinner for a man that could easily blow my brains all over the kitchen walls?
Evan has assured me, over and over again, that he will still be my nerdy Evan when he comes back. He still likes Totoro, even if he is a fluffy bunny thing. To motivate himself to run during PT, he thinks a remixed version of the Lucky Star theme. He hasn't changed yet, but what if he does? He's going to be all muscled and sexy and confident when he comes home. What if he gets an ego? What if he dumps me because I've got a double chin? Oh, god!
I just need to stay confident. Show him who's boss, Dani! Send him letters exclaiming that I can beat him at Thumb War (I can't) and that I will always win during bouts of impromptu wrestling (I've never). I bet most people would like my mac and cheese more than they like his mac and cheese soup. He's a wimp when it comes to getting wet, whereas I'm willing to jump into a pool while still fully-clothed.
It just occurred to me: will he get freckles from running around in the sun so much? He was starting to get them around his eyes before he left... Mmmf, Evan with freckles. I'll melt all over. And those big, dorky glasses he has to wear? I have a nerd fetish. Oh, man. I wish I could see him now. I would gobble him right up.
This brings me to another worry of mine: will I forget how to interact with him? Will I forget how to kiss, how to snuggle, etc.? Will we fall back into our old habit of never meeting eye contact, awkwardly looking away from each other all the time? Will holding hands become a terrifying experience? What were these last sixteen months for if we're just going to act like a new couple all over again?
What if our reunion is awful? We've both been dreamin' up different scenarios where we meet each other and the most romantic scene ensues. I walk into my house, only to find him standing in my family room. The sun is somehow glistening off our hair, even though we're inside. I gasp and run toward him in slow-mo, tears streaming from my face, and we exchange the sweetest, gentlest of kisses.
What will probably happen: I see his car in my driveway while on my way back from work. He has been there for too long, not knowing where I was or if I would return home before marching band. I park my car, and sit in it for several minutes of unadulterated panic before finally crawling out to greet him. He's standing awkwardly by his car. This is where I either stand several feet away from him, not sure what he wants, or I rush toward him and end up smacking my forehead into his, knocking him unconscious. Or I try to kiss him and end up biting his lip something awful, like I did when I was first learning how to kiss. Or maybe he'll have the saddest look on his face and say, "Dani, I should have done this earlier, but... I think we should see other people." I will drop to the ground and sob while he casually drives away.
What I'm trying to say is: I love that bitch. Whore better stay how he is, and stay with me for a little while longer.
He called me today. When I picked up the phone, I expected a, "Hello, is Yo-say Haynes available?" or, "Is Lily Haynes there?" I expected to snap, "No, and it's Josie/Lyle HAN-NES." I pick up every strange number that calls my house now, in hopes of getting Evan, and they're usually telemarketers. But this time, an uncertain, familiar voice asked for Dani, and my heart skipped a beat! Evaaan!
It was hard to talk to him, since we kept accidentally interrupting each other and I kept stumbling over my words. The phone he was using wasn't very good, either, so I had trouble hearing him. But it was him, and that was enough to get my eyes a-waterin' (the sniffling didn't help to make our conversation any easier). In response to a letter I sent him, he assured me that I can still wear the pants in our relationship when he comes home, and that I can still take care of him. It still seems strange to me, though. He knows how to shoot guns. He's a killing machine now! Won't it be weird to hold the head of a killing machine on my lap? I can't imagine running my fingers through the hair of a man that has thrown grenades. Do I want to make dinner for a man that could easily blow my brains all over the kitchen walls?
Evan has assured me, over and over again, that he will still be my nerdy Evan when he comes back. He still likes Totoro, even if he is a fluffy bunny thing. To motivate himself to run during PT, he thinks a remixed version of the Lucky Star theme. He hasn't changed yet, but what if he does? He's going to be all muscled and sexy and confident when he comes home. What if he gets an ego? What if he dumps me because I've got a double chin? Oh, god!
I just need to stay confident. Show him who's boss, Dani! Send him letters exclaiming that I can beat him at Thumb War (I can't) and that I will always win during bouts of impromptu wrestling (I've never). I bet most people would like my mac and cheese more than they like his mac and cheese soup. He's a wimp when it comes to getting wet, whereas I'm willing to jump into a pool while still fully-clothed.
It just occurred to me: will he get freckles from running around in the sun so much? He was starting to get them around his eyes before he left... Mmmf, Evan with freckles. I'll melt all over. And those big, dorky glasses he has to wear? I have a nerd fetish. Oh, man. I wish I could see him now. I would gobble him right up.
This brings me to another worry of mine: will I forget how to interact with him? Will I forget how to kiss, how to snuggle, etc.? Will we fall back into our old habit of never meeting eye contact, awkwardly looking away from each other all the time? Will holding hands become a terrifying experience? What were these last sixteen months for if we're just going to act like a new couple all over again?
What if our reunion is awful? We've both been dreamin' up different scenarios where we meet each other and the most romantic scene ensues. I walk into my house, only to find him standing in my family room. The sun is somehow glistening off our hair, even though we're inside. I gasp and run toward him in slow-mo, tears streaming from my face, and we exchange the sweetest, gentlest of kisses.
What will probably happen: I see his car in my driveway while on my way back from work. He has been there for too long, not knowing where I was or if I would return home before marching band. I park my car, and sit in it for several minutes of unadulterated panic before finally crawling out to greet him. He's standing awkwardly by his car. This is where I either stand several feet away from him, not sure what he wants, or I rush toward him and end up smacking my forehead into his, knocking him unconscious. Or I try to kiss him and end up biting his lip something awful, like I did when I was first learning how to kiss. Or maybe he'll have the saddest look on his face and say, "Dani, I should have done this earlier, but... I think we should see other people." I will drop to the ground and sob while he casually drives away.
What I'm trying to say is: I love that bitch. Whore better stay how he is, and stay with me for a little while longer.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
In Remembrance of a Goddamn Fucking Friend
fuck.
you just don't find healthy soldiers like General Libido and Dictator Cadaverous anymore, do you?
Corporal Jackson has died, possibly from the inhalation of a dangerous gas (flea bombin'). his scales went from black to gold in less than twelve hours, and he was found belly-up in the afternoon.
i hope that his death brings the downfall of the military base that he was named after.
Lieutenant Prurient has taken the Corporal's place on the nightstand. a replacement goldfish is not scheduled to move into the fishbowl.
you just don't find healthy soldiers like General Libido and Dictator Cadaverous anymore, do you?
Corporal Jackson has died, possibly from the inhalation of a dangerous gas (flea bombin'). his scales went from black to gold in less than twelve hours, and he was found belly-up in the afternoon.
i hope that his death brings the downfall of the military base that he was named after.
Lieutenant Prurient has taken the Corporal's place on the nightstand. a replacement goldfish is not scheduled to move into the fishbowl.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
In Remembrance of Two Beloved Comrades
after the introduction of a new soldier to the fish bowl, all three fish passed away. first was the newcomer, Major Agley, who brought a fatal disease with him from the dreaded lands of Super Wal-Mart. next came our beloved General Libido. Dictator Cadaverous tried in vain to push the General back up, but the General kept sinking, gasping and thrashing about on the floor of his fishbowl. General Libido passed shortly after, and Dictator Cadaverous died of heartbreak the very next day.
many tears were shed over these brave, brave soldiers... they will be remembered as two of the greatest goldfish i have ever known. for over a year, they stared me down as i mumbled secrets to them. they held their cautious gazes on me as i first told them, ever so giddily, that "i love him, guys," and they averted their eyes when needed, as polite fish should.
the betta, Lieutenant Prurient, remains healthy and vigorous, as he was not in the infected fishbowl. his presence is greatly appreciated in this time of grieving. i have not always confided in him as i had with the General and Dictator, but he is still a confidant, and i trust him with my secrets.
taking the place of General Libido and Dictator Cadaverous in the now-clean fishbowl is Corporal Jackson, the black moor. some changes have been made to the bowl (by my mother), and his survival cannot be guaranteed. bright pink and purple rocks are dangerous.
the Corporal is a handsome fish, and he is much larger than his predecessors. if he survives, he will prove to be a strong and capable soldier. we can only hope for his success.
many tears were shed over these brave, brave soldiers... they will be remembered as two of the greatest goldfish i have ever known. for over a year, they stared me down as i mumbled secrets to them. they held their cautious gazes on me as i first told them, ever so giddily, that "i love him, guys," and they averted their eyes when needed, as polite fish should.
the betta, Lieutenant Prurient, remains healthy and vigorous, as he was not in the infected fishbowl. his presence is greatly appreciated in this time of grieving. i have not always confided in him as i had with the General and Dictator, but he is still a confidant, and i trust him with my secrets.
taking the place of General Libido and Dictator Cadaverous in the now-clean fishbowl is Corporal Jackson, the black moor. some changes have been made to the bowl (by my mother), and his survival cannot be guaranteed. bright pink and purple rocks are dangerous.
the Corporal is a handsome fish, and he is much larger than his predecessors. if he survives, he will prove to be a strong and capable soldier. we can only hope for his success.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
So This is the Real World?
in order to achieve happiness, we do things that make us unhappy. we work mundane jobs to earn money, day in and day out, and if we ended up with our dream job, we sometimes learn to hate what we do. if we haven't found them yet, we wait for our one-and-only, sometimes suffering heartache after heartache and growing too bitter to truly appreciate our lover when we've found them. we grow old and cynical and watch everyone that we've known die off. this is what we live for? to flail around hopelessly until we've settled for a life we may not have hoped for? there is no helping what happens to anyone, is there?
a simple explanation to my current angst: grandpa rauscher's dead, evan's gone, i've got a job, i'm on my period.
i received a letter from evan today, but i can't write a response. i always intend to write something peppy and fun for him, but when i reread what i've written, it's like, "holy fuck, dani, what is wrong with you?" when i try to tell him anything, suddenly i sound depressed and horribly needy. i'm going to keep the letters i've decided not to send, and we'll see how big that stack gets.
i'm considering not sending any more at all. he doesn't receive my mail, anyway: for some reason, they're holding my letters from him. he gets letters from his mom, but not from me. i don't know why. maybe it's my bubbly address. the guys in charge over at basic take one look at my envelope and think, "pleasant plain road? THAT'S FOR PUSSY BOYS, WE DON'T NEED THIS SHIT HERE." that's what i'm going to assume is happening.
i'll be fine soon, i'm sure. i'm just having trouble coping because there is no one to talk to about this. i've tried talking to bethany and ashley, but they don't like when i do. they try to change the subject, and i understand completely. i'm terrible to talk to right now. i'm a mess. i dream about evan coming home and wake up snoggin' my pillow (obviously one of the more entertaining aspects of my emotional distress).
it's not just him, of course. rusty was at my grandpa's funeral, and he hugged me. the fuck kind of ex-dad wants a hug? of course, that's not the worst thing about the funeral. i felt horribly guilty about every way i had ever wronged grandpa, and grandma seemed so sincerely happy to see me... she's all alone at that big ole' farm now. she can't take care of all that land by herself. i know that older people sometimes just give up on life when their spouse dies, and i'm scared for grandma now. i'm scared for all my grandparents. any one of them could die at any second. my parents could die. anyone can die! life is full of uncertainties, and they're all hitting me hard.
i don't want to angst out on everyone, but i can't help it. the longer i go without letting it all out, the worse it gets. right? i guess i'll stay pretty bad until evan comes home in september. but he'll leave me for good in january, when he goes to college, and i'll have to experience this crippling loneliness all over again. fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, guys.
fuck.
a simple explanation to my current angst: grandpa rauscher's dead, evan's gone, i've got a job, i'm on my period.
i received a letter from evan today, but i can't write a response. i always intend to write something peppy and fun for him, but when i reread what i've written, it's like, "holy fuck, dani, what is wrong with you?" when i try to tell him anything, suddenly i sound depressed and horribly needy. i'm going to keep the letters i've decided not to send, and we'll see how big that stack gets.
i'm considering not sending any more at all. he doesn't receive my mail, anyway: for some reason, they're holding my letters from him. he gets letters from his mom, but not from me. i don't know why. maybe it's my bubbly address. the guys in charge over at basic take one look at my envelope and think, "pleasant plain road? THAT'S FOR PUSSY BOYS, WE DON'T NEED THIS SHIT HERE." that's what i'm going to assume is happening.
i'll be fine soon, i'm sure. i'm just having trouble coping because there is no one to talk to about this. i've tried talking to bethany and ashley, but they don't like when i do. they try to change the subject, and i understand completely. i'm terrible to talk to right now. i'm a mess. i dream about evan coming home and wake up snoggin' my pillow (obviously one of the more entertaining aspects of my emotional distress).
it's not just him, of course. rusty was at my grandpa's funeral, and he hugged me. the fuck kind of ex-dad wants a hug? of course, that's not the worst thing about the funeral. i felt horribly guilty about every way i had ever wronged grandpa, and grandma seemed so sincerely happy to see me... she's all alone at that big ole' farm now. she can't take care of all that land by herself. i know that older people sometimes just give up on life when their spouse dies, and i'm scared for grandma now. i'm scared for all my grandparents. any one of them could die at any second. my parents could die. anyone can die! life is full of uncertainties, and they're all hitting me hard.
i don't want to angst out on everyone, but i can't help it. the longer i go without letting it all out, the worse it gets. right? i guess i'll stay pretty bad until evan comes home in september. but he'll leave me for good in january, when he goes to college, and i'll have to experience this crippling loneliness all over again. fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, guys.
fuck.
Friday, June 11, 2010
A Lousy Start to Summer
evan left for basic training on tuesday morning. he has been gone for all of four days now, and i'm already unsure of myself and of everything around me. the sound on my computer isn't working, so i can't spend every day immersed in various anime's. i find myself bored of video games, and i don't really watch television (y'know, other than the stuff i watch on the internet). i'm bored and i'm lonely. i had hoped to discover that i can function just fine without evan, and i'm sure i will be able to at some point during this summer, but i can't for now.
the only things that will keep me out of my bed this summer are my new job and the constant hope for letters from evan. he has already sent me something; he ordered it before he left. it's this lovely (though slightly inappropriate) t-shirt from bustedtees.com. here, have a picture:
it's great, isn't it? for those of you who may not get it (if there's anyone out there who doesn't), that's a game cartridge. let's say your super nintendo game isn't playing. one solution is to pop out the game cartridge, blow into it, and pop it back in. it works more often than you might think. so that explains that.
i don't know when evan will be able to write me, but i look forward to seeing his messy handwriting again. i hope he's doing alright and not getting raped. he had a fear of puking all over the place; while i don't understand it, i still hope it doesn't happen.
and now for the awful news: i was informed today that my grandpa rauscher, the father of my biological dad, had a massive stroke. the doctors have given him maybe two or three days to live. the first thing i thought when i heard was, "who's gonna call me 'kiddo' now?" i haven't been close to the rauschers since before my biological dad legally disowned me. i had planned to drive out to lockridge to visit grandma and grandpa this summer, and that just makes me feel worse. i've procrastinated for so long, and now i'll never see him again. i'm nobody's 'kiddo' now.
for the last few years, i had only seen grandpa for eric's birthdays and my own. most of the time he would just sit in the car and wait for grandma to be done with me so that he could get home. when i would ask grandma where he was, she would say, "oh, his feet are hurting him," or something petty like that. it always made me wonder if he didn't love me anymore - i've been a terrible, neglectful granddaughter, haven't i? i kept thinking, "oh, they'll be there next summer break, i'll see them then." well, now he won't be. he promised me that he'd teach me to ride a horse... what was that? ten years ago? he said, "i'll teach you to ride a horse this summer," and i was so bitter when he didn't...
this isn't the first stroke he has had, and i never visited or called or anything when i heard about his first one. i was scared, and i cried, but he'll never know that. i've been so selfish and careless. i remember - i thought it was the silliest thing - when i was little, he would send me to the basement to get him a beer almost every time i went to visit. i would go down and get a freeze pop for myself and get him his beer and grandma would chide him for making his granddaughter get him alcohol. i always smiled when she did; they had a funny relationship.
i'm being selfish again: i'm not sure if i should go to his funeral. i want to, but my biological dad will be there and i haven't seen him in eight years and he's not supposed to see me without permission until i'm eighteen... i don't want to see him. i've had nightmares - actual sleep nightmares, not just bad thoughts - about having encounters with him, him being a villain with a maniacal laugh... it's silly, but i have dreamed that. i'll go to grandpa's funeral. i'll do my best to avoid rusty, i'll try not to be too sad when eric forces my long-lost half-brother to meet me, and i'll try to act like i belong at the funeral of a rauscher. what am i to them? a vague memory?
i love my grandpa. i've been stupid, and for the last several years i've said, "i don't know, i think it would be awkward if i went to visit them," but i always wished that it wouldn't be awkward at all. i always hoped that somehow it'd be exactly how it used to be: that i would go outside and climb on the hay bales, followed by my trusted feline companion, cubbie, just to be up higher than the horses. i hoped that grandpa would send me out to get the eggs from the chicken coop and scold me when i was too cowardly to lift the protective hens from their nests. i hoped that grandma would invite me downstairs, where i would watch her attempt, for the hundredth time, to clean up all the useless junk she has hoarded, and watch her put the useless junk back in the corner where she found it. i hoped that grandpa would say, "hey, kiddo!" when i walked through the door, i hoped that grandma would give me the big hugs that she used to...
i'm a coward. if it weren't for my cowardice, i would have gone to see my grandparents. i wouldn't be lamenting over lost time, i would be lamenting over the loss of a close relative. i feel awful, i feel guilty. i'll carry this guilt for the rest of my life; i just know i will.
i'm nobody's 'kiddo'.
the only things that will keep me out of my bed this summer are my new job and the constant hope for letters from evan. he has already sent me something; he ordered it before he left. it's this lovely (though slightly inappropriate) t-shirt from bustedtees.com. here, have a picture:
it's great, isn't it? for those of you who may not get it (if there's anyone out there who doesn't), that's a game cartridge. let's say your super nintendo game isn't playing. one solution is to pop out the game cartridge, blow into it, and pop it back in. it works more often than you might think. so that explains that.
i don't know when evan will be able to write me, but i look forward to seeing his messy handwriting again. i hope he's doing alright and not getting raped. he had a fear of puking all over the place; while i don't understand it, i still hope it doesn't happen.
and now for the awful news: i was informed today that my grandpa rauscher, the father of my biological dad, had a massive stroke. the doctors have given him maybe two or three days to live. the first thing i thought when i heard was, "who's gonna call me 'kiddo' now?" i haven't been close to the rauschers since before my biological dad legally disowned me. i had planned to drive out to lockridge to visit grandma and grandpa this summer, and that just makes me feel worse. i've procrastinated for so long, and now i'll never see him again. i'm nobody's 'kiddo' now.
for the last few years, i had only seen grandpa for eric's birthdays and my own. most of the time he would just sit in the car and wait for grandma to be done with me so that he could get home. when i would ask grandma where he was, she would say, "oh, his feet are hurting him," or something petty like that. it always made me wonder if he didn't love me anymore - i've been a terrible, neglectful granddaughter, haven't i? i kept thinking, "oh, they'll be there next summer break, i'll see them then." well, now he won't be. he promised me that he'd teach me to ride a horse... what was that? ten years ago? he said, "i'll teach you to ride a horse this summer," and i was so bitter when he didn't...
this isn't the first stroke he has had, and i never visited or called or anything when i heard about his first one. i was scared, and i cried, but he'll never know that. i've been so selfish and careless. i remember - i thought it was the silliest thing - when i was little, he would send me to the basement to get him a beer almost every time i went to visit. i would go down and get a freeze pop for myself and get him his beer and grandma would chide him for making his granddaughter get him alcohol. i always smiled when she did; they had a funny relationship.
i'm being selfish again: i'm not sure if i should go to his funeral. i want to, but my biological dad will be there and i haven't seen him in eight years and he's not supposed to see me without permission until i'm eighteen... i don't want to see him. i've had nightmares - actual sleep nightmares, not just bad thoughts - about having encounters with him, him being a villain with a maniacal laugh... it's silly, but i have dreamed that. i'll go to grandpa's funeral. i'll do my best to avoid rusty, i'll try not to be too sad when eric forces my long-lost half-brother to meet me, and i'll try to act like i belong at the funeral of a rauscher. what am i to them? a vague memory?
i love my grandpa. i've been stupid, and for the last several years i've said, "i don't know, i think it would be awkward if i went to visit them," but i always wished that it wouldn't be awkward at all. i always hoped that somehow it'd be exactly how it used to be: that i would go outside and climb on the hay bales, followed by my trusted feline companion, cubbie, just to be up higher than the horses. i hoped that grandpa would send me out to get the eggs from the chicken coop and scold me when i was too cowardly to lift the protective hens from their nests. i hoped that grandma would invite me downstairs, where i would watch her attempt, for the hundredth time, to clean up all the useless junk she has hoarded, and watch her put the useless junk back in the corner where she found it. i hoped that grandpa would say, "hey, kiddo!" when i walked through the door, i hoped that grandma would give me the big hugs that she used to...
i'm a coward. if it weren't for my cowardice, i would have gone to see my grandparents. i wouldn't be lamenting over lost time, i would be lamenting over the loss of a close relative. i feel awful, i feel guilty. i'll carry this guilt for the rest of my life; i just know i will.
i'm nobody's 'kiddo'.
Friday, March 12, 2010
In Remembrance of Another Friend
our bosom friend and comrade in battle, the handsome Corporal Pulchritudinous, was found belly-up in the trenches some time ago. though his time in the military was short, he will be remembered fondly by his higher-ups.
Dictator Cadaverous took Corporal Pulchritudinous in under his wing upon meeting, always guiding the Corporal to the bottom of the tank when an enemy approached. the Dictator has lost a close compatriot and is suffering greatly.
at this point in time, no replacement is planned to take the Corporal's place in the line of duty.
Dictator Cadaverous took Corporal Pulchritudinous in under his wing upon meeting, always guiding the Corporal to the bottom of the tank when an enemy approached. the Dictator has lost a close compatriot and is suffering greatly.
at this point in time, no replacement is planned to take the Corporal's place in the line of duty.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Introducing Corporal Pulchritudinous!
i lied about Admiral Oust. my new goldfish is just so adorable that the harshness of that name seemed wrong. so, because pulchritudinous means beautiful and my new fish is gorgeous, Corporal Pulchritudinous it is.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
I Only Knew You for Two Weeks, But I Can't Live Without You
i defeated Ganondorf in The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, and i don't know what to do with my liiiife. whatever will i do without my dearest Link? i drew a picture of him a while ago. wanna see?
i miss him already. his ridiculous expressions, his silly screams. i draw him on almost all of my schoolwork now, and i can't imagine life any other way. LIFE IS MEANINGLESS WITHOUT LINK.
another thing that disappoints the crap outta me is that i was so close to beating Twilight Princess when i accidentally erased my entire save file. i scrambled for the power button, but i didn't make it in time and my thirty-some hours of game time left my life forever. i'll never help Midna to become the princess again, and Zant will continue to cause problems for both the world of light and the world of twilight. POOR MIDNA. i think i'll draw a picture of her for you, even though i have a new mouse and can't use it very well quite yet.
there you go. i drew her in Paint.
i'm bored now, bye.
i miss him already. his ridiculous expressions, his silly screams. i draw him on almost all of my schoolwork now, and i can't imagine life any other way. LIFE IS MEANINGLESS WITHOUT LINK.another thing that disappoints the crap outta me is that i was so close to beating Twilight Princess when i accidentally erased my entire save file. i scrambled for the power button, but i didn't make it in time and my thirty-some hours of game time left my life forever. i'll never help Midna to become the princess again, and Zant will continue to cause problems for both the world of light and the world of twilight. POOR MIDNA. i think i'll draw a picture of her for you, even though i have a new mouse and can't use it very well quite yet.
there you go. i drew her in Paint.i'm bored now, bye.
Friday, January 29, 2010
In Remembrance of a Friend
the respectable Sergeant Pepper was engulfed by the great maw of a monstrous cat on the evening of January 28, 2010.
he will be missed by his comrades, Dictator Cadaverous and General Libido.
soon to replace his position in the war is a certain Admiral Oust, who has not yet reported to duty.
he will be missed by his comrades, Dictator Cadaverous and General Libido.
soon to replace his position in the war is a certain Admiral Oust, who has not yet reported to duty.
Monday, December 28, 2009
A Fine Example of Douchebaggery
as of saturday, my dad is in the hospital. he had been in a lot of pain since thursday morning, but he stuck around with us until christmas was over and didn't complain once to any of us. i didn't even know he was in pain on christmas day, but i remember teasingly pointing out to him that i didn't think i had seen him smile once that day, which he answered with a big, cheesy grin. he helped my grandpa move their heavy TV and replace it with another. i didn't know that he was hurting at all until he left for the emergency room saturday morning. his face was red and his voice was strained, but he was still trying his best to hide from me that he was really sick.
after blood tests, x-rays, and a CAT scan, the doctors found a two-inch abnormality on his colon. this could be an infected scratch or hole, or it could be cancer. they're doing a colonoscopy today, and the results should be in around one o'clock. the doctors say that he's really young for cancer, but there's still that chance. and if it is cancer, that's the very thing that killed his father a few years ago. grandpa had throat cancer from chewing tobacco, though, and we got dad to quit chewing so that he won't die a similar way: too early, too painfully.
i'll admit that i really haven't been concerned at all until today. i hadn't cried at all until i started typing this up and after i realized that he really is trying to be strong for all of us even when he's probably pretty scared. i just told evan yesterday that i wasn't too worried about dad because he's a strong guy and i'm not all that close to him, anyway. what a horrible thing to say! i don't know what i was thinking. i love my dad, and i would be devastated if something happened to him. our whole family would. i would have to be the strong one while mom cried and cried. i would have to take over the chores that dad does every day without once being asked. i would end up chopping wood for the fire, endlessly cleaning dirty dishes, cooking, cleaning, all the tedious things that dad has to do for us without any appreciation. i know that he feels that we're not grateful for him, but we are! we would be nowhere without him. i would be nameless if he hadn't adopted me way back when. my older brother would be, too, and that's where the title of this post comes in.
the majority of my readers know that my brother, eric, and i were legally disowned by our biological father, rusty rauscher, when i was nine and eric was thirteen. lyle hannes married our mother and gave up all of his freedom in life to take us in and help raise us, no matter how disgruntled we were about some strange man taking over our lives. we treated him horribly, and we still do, but he's been there for us and hasn't given up. well... he hasn't given up on me, at least, but eric is a lost cause that we've all given up on. rusty didn't want anything to do with us. he didn't want to have to pay child support, and he didn't want to have to spend time with us for just a couple of days a month.
i know for a fact that rusty wouldn't have disowned us if it weren't for me, and i guess i feel kind of guilty for being the cause of eric's abandonment, but it wasn't my fault. maybe you don't believe me. maybe you think i'm being melodramatic, as i am so apt to do, but mom herself told me that eric was rusty's favorite, and when i asked her if rusty would have kept eric if i hadn't been born, she gave me kind of a sad look. but even still, rusty disowned eric! he willingly gave him to lyle, and he just as willingly signed the papers that stated that he would not be in any sort of contact with us until we were eighteen or unless we sought him out. only eric would be careless enough to leave our whole family to go back to the man that didn't want him. it pisses me off, it really does. guess where he's going right now, before knowing dad's test results? that's right; he's going to cedar rapids to be with rusty, and then he's going to fucking mardi gras.
eric lives in a world all to himself now, hitchhiking around with no connections to anybody. he's more selfish and narcissistic now than ever, but if rusty was in the hospital, he would be there. he doesn't give a flying shit about our real dad, and he won't let mom show him the proof that rusty has been lying to him about what happened. our dad could die while eric's away, and he wouldn't come back. when grandpa hannes died, eric stayed away. he never showed any sort of sympathy about it, and he more or less told mom to fuck off whenever she brought up the funeral.
what did we do to make eric into such a terrible person? mom tried her hardest to raise her all by herself for so many years, and she did alright for a single parent. i'm okay, aren't i? i haven't touched drugs or alcohol. the only times i'm even exposed to such things are in my own house when eric comes back to "visit." evan and i came into the house at ten-thirty last night, only to find eric and his buddy zach matson surrounded by giant bottles, hooting suggestive things at us. mom told me that it would be best if evan left and i went straight to bed so that eric and matson wouldn't mess with us at all. we did as she said, and everything was fine. honestly, though, i have never been around any underage drinking except for in my own house, and that's unacceptable.
eric believes that society is ruining our society. does that make any sense to you? he thinks that we should all question everything that goes on, but then we'd all end up questioning everyone else's questioning. questions would go unanswered forever, and we'd all die unsatisfied. being suspicious doesn't get anything done, it just makes us paranoid and unhappy. if you're part of this society, accept that and get on with your miserable little life.
to put it all bluntly: my brother's a dick and i often want him to die a gruesome death.
i still think that my dad's strong enough to get through this. it won't be cancer, and he'll be fine. i'll post the test results when i've learned them.
after blood tests, x-rays, and a CAT scan, the doctors found a two-inch abnormality on his colon. this could be an infected scratch or hole, or it could be cancer. they're doing a colonoscopy today, and the results should be in around one o'clock. the doctors say that he's really young for cancer, but there's still that chance. and if it is cancer, that's the very thing that killed his father a few years ago. grandpa had throat cancer from chewing tobacco, though, and we got dad to quit chewing so that he won't die a similar way: too early, too painfully.
i'll admit that i really haven't been concerned at all until today. i hadn't cried at all until i started typing this up and after i realized that he really is trying to be strong for all of us even when he's probably pretty scared. i just told evan yesterday that i wasn't too worried about dad because he's a strong guy and i'm not all that close to him, anyway. what a horrible thing to say! i don't know what i was thinking. i love my dad, and i would be devastated if something happened to him. our whole family would. i would have to be the strong one while mom cried and cried. i would have to take over the chores that dad does every day without once being asked. i would end up chopping wood for the fire, endlessly cleaning dirty dishes, cooking, cleaning, all the tedious things that dad has to do for us without any appreciation. i know that he feels that we're not grateful for him, but we are! we would be nowhere without him. i would be nameless if he hadn't adopted me way back when. my older brother would be, too, and that's where the title of this post comes in.
the majority of my readers know that my brother, eric, and i were legally disowned by our biological father, rusty rauscher, when i was nine and eric was thirteen. lyle hannes married our mother and gave up all of his freedom in life to take us in and help raise us, no matter how disgruntled we were about some strange man taking over our lives. we treated him horribly, and we still do, but he's been there for us and hasn't given up. well... he hasn't given up on me, at least, but eric is a lost cause that we've all given up on. rusty didn't want anything to do with us. he didn't want to have to pay child support, and he didn't want to have to spend time with us for just a couple of days a month.
i know for a fact that rusty wouldn't have disowned us if it weren't for me, and i guess i feel kind of guilty for being the cause of eric's abandonment, but it wasn't my fault. maybe you don't believe me. maybe you think i'm being melodramatic, as i am so apt to do, but mom herself told me that eric was rusty's favorite, and when i asked her if rusty would have kept eric if i hadn't been born, she gave me kind of a sad look. but even still, rusty disowned eric! he willingly gave him to lyle, and he just as willingly signed the papers that stated that he would not be in any sort of contact with us until we were eighteen or unless we sought him out. only eric would be careless enough to leave our whole family to go back to the man that didn't want him. it pisses me off, it really does. guess where he's going right now, before knowing dad's test results? that's right; he's going to cedar rapids to be with rusty, and then he's going to fucking mardi gras.
eric lives in a world all to himself now, hitchhiking around with no connections to anybody. he's more selfish and narcissistic now than ever, but if rusty was in the hospital, he would be there. he doesn't give a flying shit about our real dad, and he won't let mom show him the proof that rusty has been lying to him about what happened. our dad could die while eric's away, and he wouldn't come back. when grandpa hannes died, eric stayed away. he never showed any sort of sympathy about it, and he more or less told mom to fuck off whenever she brought up the funeral.
what did we do to make eric into such a terrible person? mom tried her hardest to raise her all by herself for so many years, and she did alright for a single parent. i'm okay, aren't i? i haven't touched drugs or alcohol. the only times i'm even exposed to such things are in my own house when eric comes back to "visit." evan and i came into the house at ten-thirty last night, only to find eric and his buddy zach matson surrounded by giant bottles, hooting suggestive things at us. mom told me that it would be best if evan left and i went straight to bed so that eric and matson wouldn't mess with us at all. we did as she said, and everything was fine. honestly, though, i have never been around any underage drinking except for in my own house, and that's unacceptable.
eric believes that society is ruining our society. does that make any sense to you? he thinks that we should all question everything that goes on, but then we'd all end up questioning everyone else's questioning. questions would go unanswered forever, and we'd all die unsatisfied. being suspicious doesn't get anything done, it just makes us paranoid and unhappy. if you're part of this society, accept that and get on with your miserable little life.
to put it all bluntly: my brother's a dick and i often want him to die a gruesome death.
i still think that my dad's strong enough to get through this. it won't be cancer, and he'll be fine. i'll post the test results when i've learned them.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Bleach Thing That You Don't Care About!
1. The first character I fell in love with:
uryu ishida.
2. The character I never expected to love as much as I do now:
mayuri kurotsuchi. i adore him SO FUCKING MUCH and I DON'T KNOW WHY.
3. The character everyone else loves that I don’t:
ichigo kurosaki. lil' fucker. i don't hate him, oh no, he's fine, but i don't love him.
4. The character I love that everyone else hates:
mayuri again, i suppose. i don't know that everyone hates him, but bethany doesn't like him much.
5. The character I would shag anytime:
uryu. he's just such a great nerd boy, and he's chivalrous to boot!
6. The character I'd want to be like:
shunsui kyoraku! he's all laid-back and wonderful. i'd like to think i'm already kind of like him.
7. The character I'd slap:
orihime inoue. all the fucking time. little bitch. YOU DON'T HEAL THE ENEMY, YOU DIPSHIT.
8. A pairing that I love:
shunsui x ukitake!!
9. A pairing that I despise:
um... ulquiorra x grimmjow?
10. Favorite character:
i uh ohmigosh. mayuri? kenpachi? i, uh, kenpachi! um, wait, no... i... auuuugh
11. What are my five favorite things about the fandom?
squeeing at bethany, screaming at new episodes, having watched every episode yet to be aired, staring down t-shirts online, thoroughly enjoying bleach yaoi.
12. What are my five least favorite things about the fandom?
not being able to buy the t-shirts i want, being jealous of bethany when she gets bleach anything, the fact that the characters aren't real, not being able to watch whenever i want, wanting to viciously hug uryu.
13. Who are my five favorite characters?
mayuri, kenpachi, shunsui, byakuya, and sometimes uryu. but then there's ikkaku... and renji... and i AUUUUGH
14. Who are my five least favorite characters?
orihime, haineko, tobiume, um, i... erm? wait, wait... omaeda... hmm... that lame first-squad vice captain who's name i don't even know.
15. What are my five favorite pairings?
shunsui x ukitake, mayuri x urahara, rukia x renji, renji x byakuya, ichigo x orihime. (woah, i chose some STRAIGHT pairings?) but i also like matsumoto x ichimaru! there's also hisagi x izuzu, and izuzu x renji (just 'cause they've got tattoos), and mayuri x akon, and ikkaku x yumichika and SO MUCH DEAR GOD I LOVE IT ALL
16. What are my five least favorite pairings?
damn it, i don't know... ulquiorra x grimmjow, toshiro x matsumoto... yoruichi x byakuya, kurosaki x kurosaki (C'MON!), ishida x ishida (SICKOS).
17. Which character you are most like?
um... i still hope i'm like shunsui, but then i kind of haven't compared myself to many characters. what do you think, bethany?
18. What is my deep, dark fandom secret?
i... i don't know that i have any. i guess i ... hmm... uh? kon. i'm in love with kon. i am so in love with kon. i want to put kon into evan's body and let him huggle my breasts for as long as he wants.
uryu ishida.
2. The character I never expected to love as much as I do now:
mayuri kurotsuchi. i adore him SO FUCKING MUCH and I DON'T KNOW WHY.
3. The character everyone else loves that I don’t:
ichigo kurosaki. lil' fucker. i don't hate him, oh no, he's fine, but i don't love him.
4. The character I love that everyone else hates:
mayuri again, i suppose. i don't know that everyone hates him, but bethany doesn't like him much.
5. The character I would shag anytime:
uryu. he's just such a great nerd boy, and he's chivalrous to boot!
6. The character I'd want to be like:
shunsui kyoraku! he's all laid-back and wonderful. i'd like to think i'm already kind of like him.
7. The character I'd slap:
orihime inoue. all the fucking time. little bitch. YOU DON'T HEAL THE ENEMY, YOU DIPSHIT.
8. A pairing that I love:
shunsui x ukitake!!
9. A pairing that I despise:
um... ulquiorra x grimmjow?
10. Favorite character:
i uh ohmigosh. mayuri? kenpachi? i, uh, kenpachi! um, wait, no... i... auuuugh
11. What are my five favorite things about the fandom?
squeeing at bethany, screaming at new episodes, having watched every episode yet to be aired, staring down t-shirts online, thoroughly enjoying bleach yaoi.
12. What are my five least favorite things about the fandom?
not being able to buy the t-shirts i want, being jealous of bethany when she gets bleach anything, the fact that the characters aren't real, not being able to watch whenever i want, wanting to viciously hug uryu.
13. Who are my five favorite characters?
mayuri, kenpachi, shunsui, byakuya, and sometimes uryu. but then there's ikkaku... and renji... and i AUUUUGH
14. Who are my five least favorite characters?
orihime, haineko, tobiume, um, i... erm? wait, wait... omaeda... hmm... that lame first-squad vice captain who's name i don't even know.
15. What are my five favorite pairings?
shunsui x ukitake, mayuri x urahara, rukia x renji, renji x byakuya, ichigo x orihime. (woah, i chose some STRAIGHT pairings?) but i also like matsumoto x ichimaru! there's also hisagi x izuzu, and izuzu x renji (just 'cause they've got tattoos), and mayuri x akon, and ikkaku x yumichika and SO MUCH DEAR GOD I LOVE IT ALL
16. What are my five least favorite pairings?
damn it, i don't know... ulquiorra x grimmjow, toshiro x matsumoto... yoruichi x byakuya, kurosaki x kurosaki (C'MON!), ishida x ishida (SICKOS).
17. Which character you are most like?
um... i still hope i'm like shunsui, but then i kind of haven't compared myself to many characters. what do you think, bethany?
18. What is my deep, dark fandom secret?
i... i don't know that i have any. i guess i ... hmm... uh? kon. i'm in love with kon. i am so in love with kon. i want to put kon into evan's body and let him huggle my breasts for as long as he wants.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
The Envious Sourpuss: That's Me!
every day, i'm finding more and more that i am the most jealous person i know. if someone does something right, i start sending off sparks of fury. the people that make me angriest in this way are those closest to me, of course. evan, my brother eric, and bethany especially. because i don't want to fill everyone's twitter pages with my ranting, i'll ramble at you, blog friends.
evan is good at mostly everything. he's a prodigious musician, as you probably all know. he can sing like no other, and if you hand him a strange instrument, he can learn how to play it impeccably it in a matter of weeks.
he's handsome as sin, as well. sorry to hint at my sexual behavior, but his entire body is my favorite work of art. his eyes are somehow green and blue at the same time, with just the right amount of freckles in them. his fucking eyelashes go on for longer than the universe itself, and his lips are shaped perfectly and are always juicy and nice. there isn't a single iota of chub on him, and, in my opinion, he has just the right amount of muscle. he's just strong enough to lift me (and let's face it: i weigh a helluva lot more than he does), but not so strong that i'm afraid of him. how could anyone fear someone so sweet, anyway?
which leads us to another factor of my jealousy: how can someone so fucking talented be so humble and kind? until i started shooting darts of adoration his way, he was the most insecure little bug i knew. but he's still modest, even with me mumbling constant compliments through just as frequent kisses to his rock-hard abs.
now, onto bethany. (i promise these paragraphs will be far less sexual. i can't promise they'll be less cheesy, though.)
i met bethany in fourth grade. i knew of her existence before then, but i was always afraid of her. envious of her. everyone knew that she was the best singer in our class, and i hated her for it. in fact, i still hate it. when she has a solo at a concert, i can't help but let a big, proud grin spread across my face, but i still envy her voice. mr. hosbond, her musical theatre director and the one teacher i wish i could impress, thinks that she's the best soloist he's ever heard. i used to think that i had a chance at being a great singer, but insecurity has prevented me from trying.
and bethany, you're beautiful. i've always envied your hair for its amazing growth rate, and it's always so smooth and soft. your eyes are like, BAM! and, whether you'll accept it or not, your skin's fantastic. you somehow manage to look lazy and still oddly pretty in pajama pants and nerdy-as-hell t-shirts. you're the perfect example of a desirable nerd girl, which you know i wish i could be.
you're a great writer and an even better artist. you've got more of a personality than i do, which i always thought was a difficult feat to accomplish. mr. hosbond says you're a character. you're better in school than i am (doesn't take much, but still), and you're one of the reasons why i've never tried for speech team. you and ashley are too good, and i don't want to have to compete for the stage with you.
doubtless you'll retaliate to this whole post with, "don't envy me! i envy you! you're better at drawing than i am and you've got boobs and great eyes." thanks, but i've heard it a hundred times and i don't feel any differently.
and lastly, stupid eric.
my mom just worships him. i don't know what happened. i used to be the good kid, the smart one. now that he's away, she sees him as a fucking genius, and oh, isn't he cute in his hobo clothes? christmas is already hell for me. the relatives that we barely know are down, and they've never met eric, never heard his disrespectful comments, his hypocritical notions of peace through force, his suggestions of smoking pot to achieve happiness. the stories mom tells are all so admirable, enviable. don't you wish your kids were like eric is? he doesn't care for material possessions, you know. oh, no, he's never asked us for money. yes, he's in california right now and he hopes to eventually go to normandy to be an organic apple farmer. he says the apples there are great, but he's never tasted them. he's so silly, our son.
nothing is mentioned of the drugs, the alcohol, the sleeping around. no one hears of the story where he left the Hannes family to go back to the father who knowingly and willingly disowned him seven years ago and attempted to murder his mother. no one hears about the things that he screamed at mom, the false accusations, the lies spread from father to son. no one knows that eric asks for money regularly, nor do they know that my christmas money was taken from me so that mom could send it to him.
how can someone so utterly horrible be so well-liked? eric always treated us like shit. are people forgetting this just because he's too far to yell at us? i was on the B honor roll for the first time since middle school, and i got nothing more than a, "did you know?" out of my parents. eric refuses to go to college, and he gets over five hundred dollars from his family members.
i finally got a higher chair placement in band, i'm in select choir, and i'm in the advanced group in my composition class. i don't ask my parents for a cell phone, i told them not to get me the car they got me, and i don't want them to buy me excessively flashy things. i do the chores i'm asked to (most of the time), and i try not to mouth of too much of the time. but even with all of these things going for us, i am their nobody child. i'm not doing anything exciting; i'm just here. i guess it's understandable that they're not jumping up and down with pom-poms and screaming my name.
i suppose i'm done ranting for now. i envy many, many more people, and i'm obvious about it, but i envy these three the most of all.
oh yeah.
merry christmas?
evan is good at mostly everything. he's a prodigious musician, as you probably all know. he can sing like no other, and if you hand him a strange instrument, he can learn how to play it impeccably it in a matter of weeks.
he's handsome as sin, as well. sorry to hint at my sexual behavior, but his entire body is my favorite work of art. his eyes are somehow green and blue at the same time, with just the right amount of freckles in them. his fucking eyelashes go on for longer than the universe itself, and his lips are shaped perfectly and are always juicy and nice. there isn't a single iota of chub on him, and, in my opinion, he has just the right amount of muscle. he's just strong enough to lift me (and let's face it: i weigh a helluva lot more than he does), but not so strong that i'm afraid of him. how could anyone fear someone so sweet, anyway?
which leads us to another factor of my jealousy: how can someone so fucking talented be so humble and kind? until i started shooting darts of adoration his way, he was the most insecure little bug i knew. but he's still modest, even with me mumbling constant compliments through just as frequent kisses to his rock-hard abs.
now, onto bethany. (i promise these paragraphs will be far less sexual. i can't promise they'll be less cheesy, though.)
i met bethany in fourth grade. i knew of her existence before then, but i was always afraid of her. envious of her. everyone knew that she was the best singer in our class, and i hated her for it. in fact, i still hate it. when she has a solo at a concert, i can't help but let a big, proud grin spread across my face, but i still envy her voice. mr. hosbond, her musical theatre director and the one teacher i wish i could impress, thinks that she's the best soloist he's ever heard. i used to think that i had a chance at being a great singer, but insecurity has prevented me from trying.
and bethany, you're beautiful. i've always envied your hair for its amazing growth rate, and it's always so smooth and soft. your eyes are like, BAM! and, whether you'll accept it or not, your skin's fantastic. you somehow manage to look lazy and still oddly pretty in pajama pants and nerdy-as-hell t-shirts. you're the perfect example of a desirable nerd girl, which you know i wish i could be.
you're a great writer and an even better artist. you've got more of a personality than i do, which i always thought was a difficult feat to accomplish. mr. hosbond says you're a character. you're better in school than i am (doesn't take much, but still), and you're one of the reasons why i've never tried for speech team. you and ashley are too good, and i don't want to have to compete for the stage with you.
doubtless you'll retaliate to this whole post with, "don't envy me! i envy you! you're better at drawing than i am and you've got boobs and great eyes." thanks, but i've heard it a hundred times and i don't feel any differently.
and lastly, stupid eric.
my mom just worships him. i don't know what happened. i used to be the good kid, the smart one. now that he's away, she sees him as a fucking genius, and oh, isn't he cute in his hobo clothes? christmas is already hell for me. the relatives that we barely know are down, and they've never met eric, never heard his disrespectful comments, his hypocritical notions of peace through force, his suggestions of smoking pot to achieve happiness. the stories mom tells are all so admirable, enviable. don't you wish your kids were like eric is? he doesn't care for material possessions, you know. oh, no, he's never asked us for money. yes, he's in california right now and he hopes to eventually go to normandy to be an organic apple farmer. he says the apples there are great, but he's never tasted them. he's so silly, our son.
nothing is mentioned of the drugs, the alcohol, the sleeping around. no one hears of the story where he left the Hannes family to go back to the father who knowingly and willingly disowned him seven years ago and attempted to murder his mother. no one hears about the things that he screamed at mom, the false accusations, the lies spread from father to son. no one knows that eric asks for money regularly, nor do they know that my christmas money was taken from me so that mom could send it to him.
how can someone so utterly horrible be so well-liked? eric always treated us like shit. are people forgetting this just because he's too far to yell at us? i was on the B honor roll for the first time since middle school, and i got nothing more than a, "did you know?" out of my parents. eric refuses to go to college, and he gets over five hundred dollars from his family members.
i finally got a higher chair placement in band, i'm in select choir, and i'm in the advanced group in my composition class. i don't ask my parents for a cell phone, i told them not to get me the car they got me, and i don't want them to buy me excessively flashy things. i do the chores i'm asked to (most of the time), and i try not to mouth of too much of the time. but even with all of these things going for us, i am their nobody child. i'm not doing anything exciting; i'm just here. i guess it's understandable that they're not jumping up and down with pom-poms and screaming my name.
i suppose i'm done ranting for now. i envy many, many more people, and i'm obvious about it, but i envy these three the most of all.
oh yeah.
merry christmas?
Saturday, November 28, 2009
It's Been Decided
as soon as evan hooks up his scanner and we start scanning the crap out of my sketchbook, i wouldn't mind posting my drawings here. i would have to change my blog to a mature one on account of... well... recently, my drawings are slightly... er, pornographic. furries and whatnot. kitties, red pandas, rams.
i'm sorry. i'm a horrible person.
but other than a few errors here and there, my drawings are pretty good. the red panda girl has a weird face, and a snow leopard girl has a clubfoot, but i'm still learning. i really don't know how to draw feet, and the red panda was one of my firsts, so those are understandable flaws. right? it's all practice.
maybe i'll have a website for these drawings some day.
this is different from being a whore myself. instead of sleeping around, i am drawing pictures to improve my ability and to entertain nerd boys. i'm still being a whore, but with my drawing ability instead of my blowjob ability. isn't that so much better?
anyway, not every drawing of mine is pornographic. i will doubtless upload many, many adorable, cuddly pictures, and many failures that i will scream about. this post is just warning you of what is to come so that you'll be careful when you open the link to my newest posts.
i'm sorry. i'm a horrible person.
but other than a few errors here and there, my drawings are pretty good. the red panda girl has a weird face, and a snow leopard girl has a clubfoot, but i'm still learning. i really don't know how to draw feet, and the red panda was one of my firsts, so those are understandable flaws. right? it's all practice.
maybe i'll have a website for these drawings some day.
this is different from being a whore myself. instead of sleeping around, i am drawing pictures to improve my ability and to entertain nerd boys. i'm still being a whore, but with my drawing ability instead of my blowjob ability. isn't that so much better?
anyway, not every drawing of mine is pornographic. i will doubtless upload many, many adorable, cuddly pictures, and many failures that i will scream about. this post is just warning you of what is to come so that you'll be careful when you open the link to my newest posts.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
