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.
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!"
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.
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.
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.
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/LyleHAN-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.
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.
