Home

Advertisement

Customize
once upon a time...
the when
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031
Mar. 2nd, 2009 @ 10:54 pm I can't forget when Peter Pan came to my house, took my hand...
what she felt: nostalgic
what she heard: When I Was a Boy - Dar Williams
I'm reading Peter Pan for the first time in years, and getting a little sad. (The J. M. Barrie version, not the crappy Disney version.) I'm finding so much symbolism that may or may not actually be there, and remembering how I was so into fantasy worlds up until the end of high school. I wanted more than anything to fall down a rabbit hole or get swept up in a tornado or have some magical being come take me away... I was so miserable with reality that I found total and complete solace in the world of Middle Earth and through the Looking Glass. Where did that girl go? If Peter Pan himself were to come to my window tonight and offer to take me away, there would be no question about it... I would say no. I could never leave my (almost) son. I finally understand what it means to be a "grown up." I always thought it was ridiculous that Dorothy spent two plus hours whining about how "there's no place like home" when she was in this fantastical technicolor world (this is a rant that lasted a week in December of 2004... maybe I'll post it here later), but suddenly I understand. This revelation means a lot to me, considering the person I was only three years ago. And it's not all sad, more of... bittersweet. I've finally evolved to the next stage of my life. It's time to put the storybook pipedream away and focus on reality. What the hell.

"I've finally learned to understand... I don't belong in Wonderland."
(a quote from a poem I wrote in 2005... eerie.)

PS. to any girl out there who was ever a tom-boy day dreamer as a child, I highly recommend the song (When I Was a Boy by Dar Williams) I first read the lyrics when I was a senior in high school in creative writing, but the lyrics fit my life so perfectly that I am totally in love with it.
decipherings
remember me beautiful
copy.paste
Mar. 1st, 2009 @ 01:40 pm I'm a little more than useless.
what she felt: pretty good
what she heard: Relient K... stuck in my head from the gym
Just got back from the gym and tanning. I feel semi-productive. Not nearly productive enough, but enough to slightly raise my pathetic self esteem.

I actually completed a workout on the elliptical, for the first time ever lol. It's 30 minutes and for the longest time I couldn't even manage that. In fact, the first time I tried, I went on for 10 minutes and then threw up. Yeah, I'm that person in the gym you would love to work out next to, because I make you look super athletic by comparison. Or, in my case, I always end up next to one of those die-hard gym goddesses who does a double workout on the highest level of resistance at warp speed... and then there's me... struggling with thirty minutes, on a level 5 out of ten, and like 120 strides/ min aka. not a lot. Oh bother. Then I walked a mile on the indoor track as a cool down... another thing I have not done... I usually go about 20 minutes on the elliptical and then go and sit in the locker room for the last 10 lol. Well, it's not really that funny... I usually get out-exercised by senior citizens, not a joke. But hopefully things will change as long as I work on it. After all, I have a wedding dress I'm gonna need to fit into. ;-P

Speaking of weddings and such (to some degree) I'm off to go see Bride Wars with a girl friend... yay! It's at the cheap show... $5.50 for a popcorn, drink and ticket... hells yeah.
decipherings
memories of yesterday
remember me beautiful
copy.paste
Feb. 28th, 2009 @ 11:16 pm Oh hot day-um... this is my jay-um!
what she felt: odd
what she heard: in the ayer... ay-ayer
So I am now convinced that I am the only person in the world who sings like an idiot in the car. And the really sad part is that I try and act like I don't do this when I come to red lights next to someone else. I'll just abruptly stop singing, as if they couldn't see me rocking out ten feet before the red light. And really, I've been taking a survey... I never see anyone else on the road sing in their car. Is it because I'm just a super huge dork who just gets so into her jam that it kind of posesses me, or is it because people are self conscious about what huge losers they look like singing in the car? I always think of the movie "Click" when Adam Sandler pulls up next to the guy in the convertible who is rocking out hardcore, and he just kinda mutes him, so you see this guy making absolutely no noise, but at the same time singing like a freakshow. This is me. I drive a little VW Bug and always have the windows up... I don't even put my bass up for the other drivers to have some indication that I actually am singing along to a real song. In fact, the bass in my car is so heavy that I usually keep it on either 0 or -1 because I really hate when people drive up with their bass blasting. (It is, however, really funny when I pull up next to some teenage boy in a pimped out SUV with his bass up full blast... then I turn mine up to the highest setting (9) and watch the disappointment on their faces when they realize that their big bad sound system just got schooled by a Beetle... priceless.) But that's a rant for another time. Tonight is trying to figure out why no one else ever seems to sing in the car. What the hell. Cars and showers are the two universal places for people to belt out showtunes and 80s pop rock, and really, it seems like no one else does that. I really don't know where I'm going with this, lol.
decipherings
remember me beautiful
copy.paste
Feb. 24th, 2009 @ 11:09 am Stalkerrrrrsss who talk like thissssss
what she felt: frustrated
what she heard: Nothing Better - the Postal Service
Do any of you have "friends" that just won't go away?! Like seriously... Someone you worked with like two and a half years ago for a whopping three months, and since then they moved a few times, and may not even live in your state or county anymore, but somehow they just keep calling you every three months like clockwork? I guess it's not that bad, you know, a phone call, but still! And it's not like you can make someone forget your phone number without hitting them with a 2x4 or something (hmm...) but still. I have quite a few friends (well, not friends, really... more of... people I know) like that. One girl I hung out with two or three times - a friend of a friend - that I met in mid 2006, lost touch with by 2007 because she was kicked out of her parents' house and then proceeded to live with a crack dealer, an online boyfriend, a psychotic ex, back with her parents, with a friend that's a hooker... and that was the info I got about her until the fall of '07. And somehow this little cracked out girl remembers my number and has the habit of calling at like 2 in the morning looking for a ride from like six or seven towns away. Or looking for a ride for her friend who I don't even know. Or looking for money. Or bedroom furniture. Seriously... WTF.

The particular person who called me this morning is someone who I haven't seen in over a year, nor have I returned any phone calls or vmails (except for one where he pretended to be a gyno and said I had a disease... seeing as that's impossible, I called back to tell them they had the wrong person... and who should I be speaking to but him... blah) and the message goes something like this:

"Heyyyy, it's just me ----- I KNOW you remember me! *mumble mumble mumble* Anyways I just wanted to callllll and make contact with yoooou... *mumble mumble mumble* I'll talk to you sooooon!"

Okay, harmless. He wasn't singing David Bowie on my machine (this time) or anything, but still. After seven or eight unreturned phone calls (yes, I know, I'm an asshole) I would give up. What should I do? I don't want to come right out and saw "I don't want you to talk to me anymore" but at the same time I feel, like I said, like an asshole for not answering his calls. And I can never understand what he's saying... he's one of those people who not only talk quietly and mumbles, he talks really fast too. Not to mention feeling the need to make every one syllable word a six or seven one. Ugh, what to do...

More rantings later.
decipherings
remember me beautiful
copy.paste
Feb. 23rd, 2009 @ 02:19 pm he came out of the blue and went back into it
what she felt: awkward
what she heard: the world should revolve around me - little jackie
Okay, I know I need to explain things, but I don't know quite how to do it without sounding like a creep. So bear with me.

I'm 21, female and I live in NY. I haven't decided yet if I want to use my real name. I don't want to be friends with anyone I know. My e-mail address is thequixoticone@ymail.com, and it's registered under the name Don Quixote (like the book), birthdate January, 01, 1900 (which is the oldest you can go.) (This is for those of you like me who do your homework when a random person friends you online.) Obviously that information is all fictional.

I started this journal first, to get away from the drama that was associated with my other LJ that all my friends were on, as well as find something a little less intrusive than MySpace and Facebook. I don't want to know anything about your specifics... I don't want to know where you live, I don't necessarily want to know your name... screen names are more than enough. I'm interested in "meeting" all different sorts of people (and by meeting, I mean, online interaction... okay, this is beginning to sound weird) Did you ever feel like the more you try and explain yourself, the more you need to explain yourself? I think I'm doing a really horrible job.

I'm not a creeper, really, I'm not. Not that that means a whole lot online, but still. I'm harmless, I promise. I'm engaged, go to college, and am helping my fiancé raise his three and a half year old. I have a good heart. I write poetry, and am going to be a special ed teacher. I'm writing a book. I read alllll the time (hence the name) and have a book-buying obsession. I'm still finding out who exactly I am, but when I figure it out, I will let you know ;-)

I'm one of those people who needs to talk to other people, to hear their stories, I think that's one of the most important things for a person to do, is make connections.
decipherings
memories of yesterday
remember me beautiful
copy.paste
Feb. 22nd, 2009 @ 11:39 pm But if I don't break your heart, then things will just get worse...
what she felt: sleepy
what she heard: Let it All Out - Relient K
Tonight I watched the old movie the Secret of NIMH... gah, that movie really used to freak me out when I was a kid. That one and Rock-a-Doodle-Doo. Honestly, I was never afraid of the Boogie Man, spiders, snakes, the dark, strangers kidnapping me, sharks, dinosaurs, vampires, Frankenstein, going over grandma's house, or the devil stealing my soul, but I was scared to freaking death of the crazy old owl in Rock-A-Doodle-Doo. Come to think of it, the own in NIMH really scared me, too. Huh... seventeen or so years later, we find a common thread... fear of creepy old birds that talk on the inhale. WTF. But, for a 1982 cartoon movie, I have to say NIMH was pretty entertaining. Yes, I'm a loser, I think.

The weekend was surprisingly uneventful. I have some friends in from out of town - well, three friends from two places - and I spent most of my time with the one who lives a few towns over, rather than like six or seven states southward. Not gonna lie, I'm kind of annoyed, but oh well. If there's one thing I've learned lately, it's that very rarely is it worth it to start fights and fires over petty little things. If anything, however, that should make it all the more meaningful when I do finally find the need to make something of the annoyances. But of course it doesn't work that way. Blah.

All in all, I feel like I'm just on the verge of something. I don't know if it's good or bad, but I feel like things are about to drastically change.
decipherings
remember me beautiful
copy.paste
Feb. 22nd, 2009 @ 01:27 am And so begins the ramblings of the weary traveler...
what she felt: cold
what she heard: I Hate This Part - PCD
This is an idea I've been toying with for quite awhile - to create a new anonymous alter-ego/ channel for all the insanity going on in my head. I mean really, does anyone else find the whole intrusiveness of Facebook/ MySpace thing insane? It's like your personal profile isn't something just for you to vent, express yourself, etc., it's so all your friends (or rather, the people on your friends list) to ooh and ahh over and comment and stalk like it's reality. I find myself updating different bits of my profile not for my own recollection, but to see how many responses it generates (don't lie, you do this too.) At least I'm making this journal with the intention of being outspoken, and widely public. Otherwise it's pointless. This isn't a journal to record what I did with whom at tea time, or to complain about my personal life, it's for rants and raves about the idiocy of the world in general. Maybe I'll make a few friends along the way, but that's not the point.
decipherings
memories of yesterday
remember me beautiful
copy.paste

Advertisement

Customize