Slaughterhouse Five

Read this in AP English last year!

Awesome ass novel - it's funny, depressing, amazing, historical, insane, and it has a point. It makes ya think a bit, too.

Go read it. You will be pleased.

Outline of "Are You Scared Yet?"

Some happy family experience... learning to shoot w/dad... going home for noms after... bliss
Attack on village - heroine's father goes down
escape from village
the horse and the carriage
managing to live
the first city - devastation of war
observation of the guild & calvin
the second city - meeting shu (hes lagging behind for some hilarious reason)
traveling with potatoe
pitfall
the cave
the SHIT INSIDE THE CAVE
victory
arrival at the metropolis
meeting vryali & tememn - the bffs
inspiration
meeting classy & looty - the secretary &the absent one who cares
observation of a meeting
wtf is that guy doing?
meeting calvin - the bastard fisherman
admittance to the guild & chat with the JB darlin'
Puddin runs the guild's bar
drinks with KJ - the sweetheart, DP - the bad influence, and Rhae - the kind of crazy guy
Jack is a bard. lol
observation of Az angry in a corner (♥ Az XD)
the next day:
off to breakfast!
Halo runs the bakery in town
observation of Furen being entranced by the pretty cakes in the bakery
observation of Draez purchasing his petit pains
observation of Wiggles and BigAl with their faces stuffed with pie - eating contest!!
On the street:
Humi, Trey, and Amethyst - trey thinks he is a damned pimp, but the girls put him in his place! teehee :3
PT following Calvin around asking "how i mine for fish"
Calvin going to fish market - explaining things to PT while fighting over fish market w/Deme
Meeting w/Leader Vry & JB
noticing Ari behind JB
Mission statement: helping the war effort
but for now, you're still a scrub, so go explore
Ari
departure
travel
observations of nature
sleeping - leaves awakening
do you mind if i tag along?
awkwardness
persistence pays off
some smiles and laughter
arrival
um, wtf are we doing?
oh good god - ominous feelings
ninjaing through
sighting of the goal
fighting
loss
panic
corner
sandwich
sweat, breath
shuuuush
a strike
WHAT?! That's out of character!
tending wounds
going to my new "home"
reunion

Sophie's World

This is a novel I read my sophomore year in AP Euro...

It's like a philosophy textbook and a novel in one...

The story is compelling, and the "textbook" part isn't God awful. You want to read the philosophy so you can get back to and understand the story!

Great novel - I recommend this book to anyone who loves a read to make you think... it's wonderfully put together.

:]

Femme de Lumière Ideas (Woman of Light)

NEED A NAME!
One eye
Dark features, light eye, eye patch
dark horse

Corsair-like garb; thigh high boots, kinda British style
THIS

PLUS THIS

AND THIS

...with some tweaking ...and less cat-girlness

the dress - like this, but purple (purple = royalty)


brown hair - tied like cornelia's


2 rapiers & a gun pew pew bad ass
around napolean's era (weapons, tactics)
on the field: strong, independent, sexy, fucking bad ass, smart
off the field: witty, sweet, loving, beautiful

known for: "the one eyed goodbye" - when the opposing army surrenders, one eye is taken from each man, and the men are told to not return - if a 1 eyed man is caught fighting again, he will be taken prisoner, and tortured until he A) dies during torture B) asks to die (beheading, escorted by a beautiful woman) C) becomes an inquisitor - the inquisitors will not kill intentionally, some mistakes will be made though! all prisoners are given a pen and paper... the system is there to not take life from the opposing team, but to remind them that war is shitty by disabling them a bit... if they come back... then its lights out... don't fuck w/this country lol

dies during childbirth
husband commits suicide when child is 5 or 6, his whole story is finding lumi a home
lumi's story begins ~ bringer of joy

narrative transition:
main (Woman of Light) → her man (Man of Shadow) → her child (Child of Dawn)

"I've been able to withstand the pain of the world because I can only see half of it."

inspired by one of my favorite figures in history:

and this guy:


...the shit I come up with in the shower is ridiculous

Oh Shit

Kim just walked in with a guy...

Oh dear lord.

...I'm going to sleep...

AWKWAAARRRDDD.




...Kim is not a slut, btw.

That's just her favorite video, ever, and it fits really well...

Persepolis

Great graphic novel by Marjane Satrapi

not manga.

GRAPHIC NOVEL!!

Story of a girl growing up in Iran during the revolution

It's very good - and you can read it in one day

There's also a sequel; but I haven't finished reading that yet.

First Rain Wiki

→ First Rain is an annual event held at the University of California, Santa Cruz (UCSC) beginning at Porter College. It is also known as Naked Run and Porter Run. During the first rainfall of the school year, students run naked through the campus, starting at Porter College at 10:10pm, stopping in each college and gathering more runners, before returning to Porter for a drum circle. To officially be considered "first rain", it must have been raining from at least 7:00pm-10:00pm on a school night.

→ First Rain started in fall of 1989, following the weeks of the Loma Prieta earthquake. Students, afraid to sleep inside the Porter College dorms, would sleep outside in the quad. Upon developing an outside lifestyle of playing small games like Simon Says, students dared each other to strip and run around campus naked. Aiming to make this event a yearly tradition as it is at other universities, the students decided on running during the first rain of every school year (since other events, like the first school day or first snow had already been taken by other universities).

Depressing.

I want to write..

I have a lot to write...

but it's such a pain to write...

with only one hand...

:(

SadADD.

I've got a few things I want to work on:

Butterfly // David's Story ~ grumbbbbbblllllllle immature douchebag booooys

Are You Scared Yet? // Mashu & Calvin's Story ~ Tribute to my time in FFXI ~ gonna feature Magitek :]

Palm Trees and Streetlights // New idea based off of a childhood experience - no plot to this yet :( Gonna be something sci-fi... inspiration: Slaughterhouse 5... imagination needs to figure this one out still :P This one may be a tribute to the people from high school...

First Rain // Narrative of the Night

My Slug // The first heartbreak of college.

The "Jerk" // Discussion of why he intrigues me

Behind That Corner // Why I hate the dark ~ Poe inspired

Marco // Change of life, inspiration

Palm Reading // What Melody said

Music Store-Hopping // A great night out ~ friendship and bliss, acceptance

1, 2, 3, Pass // The first underwear party ~ friendship and bliss, acceptance

Kenny's 17th // Why drinking scares me & why Kenny is so important to me

I Punched a Bear in the Face // How I broke my hand ~ a lesson learned the hard way & fiction as a better truth

Femme de Lumière; Homme d'Ombre; Enfant de Aube // The epic story that will make me money someday!! :] THE WIN, IT WILL BE SO INTENSE. Dusty will be in this one. Justin too, I think. Some Greg in here, too.

Pigeons and Lawnmower Races // My father as I know him

Contradiction // the story of a girl who fears sex but is a very sexual person

The Tree In the Yard // a tribut t my best friend Nicole

Growing Up "Poor" // a discussion of what "poor" is

Anti-Sadness // Why I don't like gory films

Uneducated, Uncultured // why it fucking sucks

Blowing Minds // Allyson & Tanner ~ Orgy in the Dorms 2 ~ Freud and blushing

lol30H!3 // the simple pleasures

Dancing // why do I ask if people like to dance?

Pooping in Public // funny shit ~ why do people feel so damned awkward in the dorms?

The BJ// what society's take on this issue does to me

Hot Chocolate // simple pleasures

Dangerously Cute // Halloween costume discussion

K maybe more than a few :]

Most are short memories... some I expect to be longer...

I wrote an outline for Calvin's story in Astronomy... hopefully I'll write it out someday. Probably won't even be started until my hand is better...

The New Players

...to be written/updated later/periodically

Kim - Roomate: She likes boys, baking, and taking care of people. I love her.

Lia - Roommate: Mostly quiet, only went to two years of high school, but super cool

Noa - Roommate: "Dude just chill." Likes weed and music... plays guitar and sings at Open Mic Night sometimes... she's wonderful

Ryan - New BFF #1: in a band called "Rockit Zombies" (Battle of the Bands Finalist) AMAZING TALENT. Great guy with pretty hair... but his love of music is my favorite thing about him... plays upright bass

Pranov - New BFF #2: short Indian guy who loves music like Ryan... sweet, caring guy who needs to not smoke... :P Shared a giant milkshake with him~ was sick for the rest of the night :] Really ridiculously funny... plays clarinet

Allyson - crazy girl who loves Unicorns and who is dating Tanner: I love her... she doesn't like clothes

Juila - music goddess~ Juila makes my days brighter

Rayne -

Tanner

David... (grumble)

Asher

Cooper

Mark

Marc

Casey

Liz

Joe

Miguel

Michael R.

Dylan

Michael B.

Zach

College 8 Kid - Guy who is really super sweet and likes violas... wants me to play in the dining hall when my hand is better...

The "Other" Ryan - guy with a baby face and nice hair...met him at Late Night Noms w/Pranov... I'd like to get to know him more

Kyle from College 8 - random guy I ran into at Brunch... his face reminds me of Jason... pretty chill guy... hope I run into him again...

Econ Guy - cute-ish guy I keep running into in Econ... potential for good things

Marco - Awesome amazing instructor for Porter Core

Rhiannon - IA for Porter Core: adorable, sweet, smart

Analisa - girl from the bathroom... really nice

Kristen - other girl from the bathroom... also really nice

Cameron

Chick w/the Viking Hat

Michael G.

Trevor

Shannon

Giles

Melody

Shirtless Guy

British Jon from Crown

PMS Sucks

Gave me waaaay too much time to mess with blog today.

Ow, my uterus is falling out.

...but the blog does look really pretty... >.>;

The Anatomy of a Viola

...'cause it's cool

Why ADD Love?

'cause the world needs more love... :]
& it sounds a lot cooler than ADD Real Life
!

Love is also more or less always on my mind, anyway

I am a dreamer and a hopeless romantic...

Most of the new stuff I plan to write about is more or less centered around "love."

Calvin also told me once that I was a fickle lover...

like how people with ADD have a fickle attention span...

It fits! Remarkably well, I must say.

There's not going to be a new URL... I don't want to break links.

The "Real Mccoy" Final Draft

Now it doesn't sound like puke... lol

The “Real” McCoy

Ever since I was three I've wanted to go to college. I didn't even know what college was back then, but I knew I wanted to go. Now that I'm finally here, and have been asked to write this personal narrative, I think it's finally time to share my real story. See, I've always had an issue with writing these narratives, because I always felt that my story was too intense for normal high school classrooms. It probably was. I always wrote about a blissful childhood experience, or some other trivial thing. Those stories were great; I always got my A and didn’t have to pour my heart out. Nobody ever knew who I was, or what I was about, and I thought I liked it that way. I've never written in the way I plan to now. Earlier this week I wrote an essay about why I don't smoke pot. It’s something that defines me – yes, but it's all just a load of crap. It’s not the truth; it’s a front for a girl who can't get over her own tragedies. There's one point in time that has defined me for five years more than anything, and after living through years of misery, I think it's finally time for that instance to stop defining me. I am going to define me. I want to move on, I need to move on. This essay is simply a stepping stone on my path of self-definition. I will live my life as a happy person once again – not a normal person, for I'd hate to be considered normal, but a happy person who can enjoy the world and all of its wonders.

My story starts at the age of four. I was a cheerful little blonde kid causing mischief, sneaking over to my friend's house, and just basically living life. I was far too infatuated with my own world to understand, or merely notice the chaos of my parent's relationship deteriorating before my very eyes. There are two key things that stick out in my mind when I recall being four - the Power Rangers, and the night we left for Missouri. Apparently, something so horrible had happened between my mother and father that my Mom decided to throw my brother, Waylon, and I out a window. She didn’t literally throw us, because that’d be damn crazy, but with how frantic she was, she might as well have. When we left that house on 62nd street, we only had the clothes on our backs, but we had a train to catch. We were going to see Uncle Andy, it was a surprise vacation. I still do not know what happened between my parents to this day. Both of them tell me lies about the other, so who am I to believe? I doubt I will ever know the full truth.

I spent two casual weeks in Missouri. I was still far too confused and young to have a care in the world, but when we were finally forced home all hell broke loose. Apparently, my father had accused my mother of molesting my brother on the trip. He'd called CPS, and then found some law crap to make us come back to California. I don't believe that my mom did that, and I never will. She’d never hurt her baby boy - ever. Either way, CPS came to meet us at the train station, and they took my brother and me away. I was taken to a family of misfits - a foster home. I knew nobody there, I was scared, and I was alone. I just wanted to go home. The worst part was that they separated me from my brother, who could not have been more than two or three years old, and he was horribly ill. I had never been away from my brother before, and because he was so sick it was absolutely terrifying. I remember lying awake on that foreign bed every night and crying into my Cheerios every morning. I didn't understand anything, I was four. Why was I there? Where was my Mom? Was my brother dead? Like hell a four year old understands what the flu is. Even though I can only remember two details, I would have to say those two weeks I spent in that desolate house were the longest of my life.

After my mother was cleared of any wrongdoings to my brother, we were released to her custody. We fled west Sacramento and ended up in a women's shelter. I don't remember anything about that place except that it was blue like the sky, and that some sympathetic lady had given me a blanket. I still have that blanket - it’s worn and tattered now, much like my life, but it still keeps me warm somehow.

After leaving the women's shelter we moved into apartments in Rancho Cordova, and about six months later we moved into a duplex across the street from Williamson Elementary School. Since my brother and I were much too young to understand the ordeal we had been through, we were both enrolled in school and started our lives out much like any other kids. We just didn't have a “dad.” I believe I was much more interested in my favorite color or what I wanted for my birthday rather than the fact I had no father, though. I missed him, but after a while it was like he had never existed, so I didn’t bother to care too much. There was that and one other tidbit – my Mom had a boyfriend. His name was Larry, and he looked more like my brother and I than our own mother did. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, just like us. As far as we knew, Larry was our father, so we didn’t need a real dad or anything.

I don't remember much from elementary school besides that it was a simple and pleasant time in my life. I was a hyper kid who just liked to play tag with the boys. I occasionally had a quarrel or two with my brother, but it was all in good sibling spirit. Getting to college and growing up was always on my mind. I just couldn’t wait to be older so I could go off and learn neat things! At Williamson Elementary, students are allowed to take either choir or orchestra when they reach the fourth grade. Band was reserved for fifth graders. We had an assembly introducing all the different string instruments – the violin, the viola, and the cello. I chose the viola because the lady who introduced it played Star Wars on it, the viola wasn’t ridiculously squeaky like the violin, and I couldn’t really see myself lugging a cello around. A few weeks later my Mom told me that a lady at a convention downtown had told her that the viola was a good instrument to play because college orchestras needed them, and it might be easier to be admitted to a dignified university. That sealed the deal. I was going to play the viola like none other, because I was going to college someday. The fourth grade was the year I was introduced to the thing that I consider to have saved my life – music.

My happiness continued through middle school, I succeeded in just about every aspect of school, I was in the orchestra, and I had a wonderful group of friends. I decided to join track in the sixth grade, and I put absolutely all my effort in being the best I could be. That doesn't mean I was good, I just tried really hard. It’s kind of what I do. My aunt was a coach and I wanted to make her proud. See, I just tried so hard that I physically wore myself out. I would walk home, sometimes limp home, and just pass out on the couch within five minutes of sitting down.

Sounds pretty normal right?

Since Larry was basically my dad, he sometimes offered to massage my feet or legs or something so I'd feel better. Of course I thought nothing of it - and nobody ever would, but sadly the world is a little more fucked up than that. These "massages" turned into something quite different; something that I didn't understand, something that my brother was sent to bed early for. I had always thought I got to stay up later because I was older. It's a damn shame that I was so ignorant. To put it frankly - my father molested me. Now, shit happens. I know it does, but usually things don't continue on for a year. Almost every day I came home from track, things happened. It started to happen when I went to sleep too. I slept on the top bunk and he was really tall, so I guess it was easy.

All I knew at that time was that I was happy. I had a dad, and I didn't care.

There's one very odd thing about all these happenings - where the hell was my Mom? How could a parent be so ignorant to not notice their child being molested? My Mom was diagnosed with Hepatitis C when I was in the sixth grade. She had to give herself shots twice a day, and continue working. The shots made her basically unable to pay attention to anything. She did a lot of sleeping during that year. Luckily, she is now cured of Hepatitis C. I forgive her for not being there for me because of the sickness, but only because she was sick.

One day, August 15th, if I remember correctly, I decided that I didn't want to do the dishes. My Mom was on her computer, and she was a tad annoyed with me, because of course, the dishes were the most important thing in the world and they had to be done right then. Larry stormed out of the bedroom and said something to the extent of, "Do the God damned dishes, you little bitch." I instantly started crying, and the tears were not those of a typical sixth grader’s tantrum. I was bawling my eyes out. I eventually stopped, did the dishes, and went to my room.

My aunt was having a party that day, and of course I had to go. I don't really like my aunt's house, it's always full of cat hair, and I didn't really have the most pleasant of mornings. A few minutes after arriving, I couldn't help but crying again. I didn't even know why I was crying. My Mom and my aunt took me to the side and asked me what was wrong - as usual family members do. My Mom was sort of upset that Larry had called me a bitch and asked me about that. I remember nodding my head, and just crying more. More and more, for some reason that I didn't understand. She asked me if anything else had ever happened, and my world just shattered. In that single instant, my world of perfection turned to chaos and regret. I told my Mom what had happened. The party afterwards was very interesting, and all I can remember is sitting on my aunt's bed, thinking about how awkward it was being in her room. It smelled kind of weird in there. I heard a few noises, a door slam, and then my aunt came into her room to tell me, "He's gone."

Nobody in the family ever spoke of it again after that day. My Mom, my brother and I stayed the night at my aunt's, I was asked some rather awkward questions, and a few weeks later I visited a doctor to make sure everything was okay with my body physically.

Everything was okay, physically, but it was clear to the doctors that I had been molested.

I decided not to press charges, which is the one decision that I regret more than anything in the world when I look back on my life. I would have loved to send the bastard to jail if I had the chance now, but at that time all I wanted was closure. I didn't want to go through a whole trial and be asked more awkward questions by people who were only looking for a paycheck.

I still thought of this person as my father - the one who was supposed to protect me. It took me a while to even realize what had happened. I had only told my Mom because I was so upset about being called a bitch. That's it. I was a happy 13 year old, why would I change that?

All of that drama was the summer before the 8th grade started, but surprisingly, I continued living in a world of bliss. I ignored my pain; I shut it away and vowed to never let it resurface. I didn’t want to deal with that. The 8th grade, to this day, was one of my favorite years of school. The 8th grade produced the blissful childhood experiences I used to write about. It took me a while to understand what had happened to me, and I think it took so long because I couldn't accept that the one person I trusted the most in the world had done something so vile. It didn't make sense; the world was a happy, good place, where good things came to good people. I was a good person, why should I have to deal with nasty things?

God, I was such a silly little girl.

I spent most of my freshman and sophomore years at Cordova High School as a normal teenager again. I had a boyfriend, Greg Will, who was amazing. He was funny, smart, cute, and he played the viola, too. We both shared a passion for music, and even though he could play better than I could, my passion could basically annihilate his with a single bow stroke. Greg and I had been friends all through middle school, and he just sort of kissed me one Monday. We used to joke that we never were technically “going out” because neither one of us had asked the other. We were the best of friends, and a damn good couple to boot. We were classy – eating each other’s faces in the middle of the quad just wasn’t how we rolled. We did that on our own time! Teachers used to come up and thank us for being classy. It was about the most amusing thing in the world. Besides finally finding someone to take care of me again, I had terrific grades and I had the best friends. I was just missing that dad thing again, but it was no big deal. I was happy. I didn’t need a dad - they only caused pain in my eyes. I couldn’t ask for one either, because there were already far too many positive things going for me. It would have been simply selfish to ask for more from life.

This bliss continued until about my junior year. Greg and I had been dating for a good two years, and we were both about 16. 16 year olds in high school who have been dating for two years are thinking about one thing - and one thing only - sex. We both wanted it. We started getting intimate, and all that fun stuff, but when Greg touched me, my head started to hurt. I felt faint, and sick. I asked him to stop - and he did because he is the best damn guy in the world. Greg had known what happened to me, but he didn't understand it. He didn't understand why I couldn't do something I without a doubt wanted to do. He didn't understand why I cried, and why I felt sick. I didn't even understand. He was always privileged. He always had everything he needed. He'd never experienced my pain. He told me that sex wasn't important, and that he loved me. Good lord was he a good boyfriend. He said he'd wait until I was ready.

A year went by, and we had made a new friend named Jon. Now, this guy did not look intelligent, but he could read a person like a girl on a diet reads labels. He asked Greg one day, "How can you go out with someone for three years and not have sex?" Greg told me later what was asked, and I just shrugged. I didn't know the answer. He didn't know the answer. Ever since that day, our relationship just started dying. It had cancer. I stressed about not being ready for sex, and he stressed about me being stressed. I hate vicious cycles. They're incredibly vicious. We spent the rest of senior year together, because breaking up at the time would have been too much to handle. We wanted to experience Senior Ball and Sober Grad Night as ourselves, and by ourselves I mean together, as the couple we always had been in high school. We were never apart to the degree that some people even considered us the same person.

Soon after Graduation, on June 15th, I broke up with Greg. I couldn’t drag him through life anymore. I wanted him to experience all the wonderful things life has to offer and to be happy. If he had to experience it with someone else, because I was broken, then I guess I could live with that after a while. I can’t say I’m glad we broke up, because that’d be quite a fib, but it was such a relief, because even though I cried every night for at least a month, an incredible weight had been taken off my back. I didn't have to pressure myself to have sex anymore. The thing was, my friends from high school were based off of mine and his relationship. If you knew Greg Will, you knew Darlene McCoy. That sort of happens when you’re with someone for three years. I felt it was much too awkward to hang out with anyone, and I didn't want to talk about what had happened. I didn’t want to relive the new found pain every time I ran into somebody I knew. Instead of letting my friends help me through my anguish, I was a hermit. I didn’t want to bother my precious friends with my issues, they had lives to live. I spent most of my summer thinking about what had happened between Greg and I, why it happened, and life in general. I came to the conclusion that what had happened to me was the issue. I figured that I had suppressed my memories of the time so well that they only ever existed in my subconscious, so only something close to what had happened would trigger a reaction. I don’t know if the actual experience or the experience of what happened resurfacing into my conscience was worse. That summer was the longest summer of my life, and I don't know if I will ever have one longer.

Now, I come from a family notorious for smoking pot, drinking, dropping out of school, all that junk. As soon as I figured out what happened to me, I should have probably gone off the deep end. Just about anything would have done the job: weed, alcohol, anything to make the pain go away. God, growing up is such a bitch. But, ever since I realized how much I didn't want to be like my family, I've refused to do anything of that sort. I had to find solace in something else in this world.

I found that shelter in music, in my viola. Music does not judge, music understands. Music is everything you want it to be. When I finally figured out why I couldn't love the person I loved more than anything, music was my drug. Music cured my pain, music made it all go away. When I play, I forget the world, and concentrate on only the notes before me. I’ve never actually been that great at playing anything though, so I decided because I wasn't that fabulous at making music that I would try to support my orchestra with everything I had to make up for my technical shortcomings. I did so many things that I would have never done. Every year the music department puts on a crab feed. This crab feed was the most enormous fund raiser for music by far at Cordova. We started planning for the January event in at least early November. Tickets were already for sale by Thanksgiving Break. Now, it is no big deal to work hard for a worthy cause, but I walked, in the rain, for a half hour, to work a six hour shift, on my period, to serve some bitchy lady complaining about melted butter, for free. I was ready to kill that woman complaining about butter. I did not comprehend how she did not realize that her wait staff was a bunch of grimy teenagers who were trying their best to serve everybody to raise money for the thing that had brought them there in the first place - music. Our microwave was also broken. Nobody had melted butter. I told her simply that, because I love my orchestra. I worked so hard my senior year to make sure every single member of that orchestra understood what magic music really was. It helped save me from a life of drugs, alcohol and most importantly, misery. I like to think that I accomplished that goal, or at least made them appreciate orchestra a whole lot more!

Because of what happened to me, I grew to be a very shy person with very tall walls made of brick, reinforced with steel, and then to top it off, a layer of some crazy crap you’d find only in movies. I literally transformed into a hermit from the bubbly loud person I was.

Now that I'm at UC Santa Cruz, I feel that nothing can stop me. These walls of mine are tumbling down, and even the gravel piles that remain afterwards will soon be shipped off. My life has seriously been fucked up, but I've made it. I did this, all on my own. Why do I say all on my own? What about my Mom? Wasn’t she there for me? My mother is another essay. After this incident with Larry, well, we never had the same relationship again. She cried for months afterwards. I've always felt that she believes that I was lying, and that it's my fault that she's now single. I don't believe that her unhappiness in life is my fault, but the idea that my Mom basically secretly resents me smolders in my heart. I know that it’s not true - because she is my mother, but I can't help but feel that way. Mentally, my Mom has rarely ever been there when I needed her. At least physically she has always been there for me, and I can never thank her enough for that. I’ve always had food, I’ve always had shelter, but after Larry, I never had a mother to take care of my thoughts. Nobody has ever been there for me mentally. Nobody has ever been able to look at me and understand every concept of my being. I don’t expect to find someone that will, but I’d like to meet someone who understands me well enough that I can feel comfortable around them – no matter what we’re doing. The only thing that I can put my whole being into is my viola. It is my voice, my song; it is me, in my rawest form. Otherwise, I feel as if I am a lone ranger, and I've accepted the idea that the only person I can count on is me, and what doesn't kill me will only make me stronger.

Many shitty things happen to a lot of people. I know that. I'm not trying to sob, I don't want attention, but I want people to know me for who I am, and my story. It’s important for others to understand why I am the way I am. I am tired of hiding behind shame. I will never write of blissful childhood experiences again as a cover; if I write about them again it is because writing immortalizes memories, and I want to keep them the way they are supposed to be. I am proud that I have come this far in life without the continued support of another human being. Music will be my love until I find my “special someone.” I still think of Larry as my father today, but instead of what happened, I just like to think he is dead. By telling myself that he is dead, I allow myself to keep the fond memories of a father in my heart. He was my dad, but he is gone. I know that there is good in life. I know that there is good in peoples' smiles, their hearts, and their words. Not everybody is a bad person, and not every boyfriend of my Mom’s is going to molest me. I can trust people in this world but when it comes down to it, I’m on my own until I find the right person for me. I'm not a pessimistic person, but I'm an optimistic person turned realist. I have learned so much about myself in such a short amount of time, and if I am able to read these words out loud, I believe that I can move on, after five years of living in my own personal hell. I will move on, I am moving on. This is my story and it will be a damned good one, because I call the shots. Nobody, nor any instance, will ever dictate my life again, and I will press on like the trooper I am. Life is a bitch, but only if you let it knock you down.

Sometimes,

I just can't help but feel hopeless and lost without you...

You're just so Far Away...

...and I miss you so much.

>.<

Sometimes,

the heartbreak, it is so intense.

It's going to be a long four years...

I Like the Blue

Going to sleep now... :]

Good Lord

That new banner is beautiful!!

:]

Tribute to the old:



...we might have to go back to the blue template though

Renovations Soon~

ADD WHM will be changed to "ADD Real Life" soon...

soon as in... when I get time to do a new layout for the blog

If the URL is to change, it'll be:
http://www.addrl.blogspot.com/

this blog isn't about FFXI or WHMs or anything of that sort anymore... so it needs to be redone :]

The smiley face shall remain!

This thought came to me in light of the 1 year anniversary of my blog

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ADD WHM, YOU'RE GETTING A MAKEOVER!!

Edit: did some tonight :P

Irony of the World

Why do they all have girlfriends ._.

Happy 1 Year Anniversary ADD WHM

See title.

holy fuck its late

ROCKY HORROR IS FUUUN

Good Times

:]

New friends,
New life,
New experiences,

I love college.

HALF JAPANESE CUTENESS SYNDROME

I HAS IT /

Note On Last Blog:

"Anonymous said...

disturbed, your seriously disturbed girl.disfunctional families eat your heart out you ain't got nothin on Darlene and her attention seekin blogcrap"

el oh el much?

See, I'm basically gonna tell you why you're a damned retard.

K SO

EVERY ESSAY I'VE EVER WRITTEN & POSTED ON ADD WHM WAS NOT WRITTEN FOR BLOGGING PURPOSES ONLY.

Do you seriously think that I sit in my dorm all day thinking of sad stories to tell?

Good God, I have a LIFE TO LIVE

THERE'S FUCKING CUTE BOYS EVERYWHERE

Do you know what that is?

A life?

See I feel I have to defend myself every time I make fun of Ellatrix

...I know I don't

but I do

'cause I'm really not a crazy brooding person.. I'm just not

Its just fun as hell to joke about such an extreme character

Do I wish him any harm? No.

Do I want bad things to happen to him? No.

Do I really give a rat's ass? No.

It's just funny.

Now why do I post crazy intimate things about my life?

→ I AM ME, AND I AM DAMN PROUD OF BEING ME.

You're just simply retarded if you can't understand the concept of being honest with one's self

Try it sometime.

PS: don't mean to be a bitch, but I can't think of any other word than retarded, my hand hurts, and I have a 8 AM class...

OUT~

Hey, Do You Want to Know EVERYTHING About ME?

Read this shit, soooonn.

WARNING: Depressing Story Alert

The “Real” McCoy
Ever since I was three I've wanted to go to college. I didn't even know what college was back then, but I knew I wanted to go. Now that I'm finally here, and have been asked to write this personal narrative, I think it's finally time to share my real story. See, I've always had an issue with writing these narratives, because I always felt that my story was too intense for normal high school classrooms. It probably was. I've never written in the way I plan to now. Earlier this week I wrote an essay about why I don't smoke pot. It’s something that defines me – yes, but it's all just a load of crap. It's a cover for a girl who can't get over her own tragedies. There's one point in time that defines me more than anything, and after years of misery, I think it's finally time for me to move on. I want to use my story for some good in the world. I want to move on so I can live my life as a happy person - not normal, for I'd hate to be considered normal, but a happy person who can enjoy the world as I once used to.
My story starts at the age of four. I was a happy little blonde kid causing mischief, sneaking over to my friend's house, and just basically living life. I was far too little to understand, or merely notice the chaos of my parent's relationship deteriorating before my very eyes. There are two key things that stick out in my mind when I recall being four - the Power Rangers, and the night we left for Missouri. Apparently, something so horrible had happened between my mother and father that my Mom decided to throw my brother, Waylon, and I out a window. We only had the clothes on our backs, but we had a train to catch. We were going to see Uncle Andy, it was a surprise vacation. I still do not know what happened between them to this day. Both of my parents tell me lies about each other, so who am I to believe?
When we got home from Missouri my father had apparently said that my mother had molested my brother on the trip. He'd called CPS, and then used some law crap to make us come back to California. I don't believe that my mom did that to my brother, and I never will. Either way, CPS came to meet us at the train station, and they took us away. I went to a family of misfits, a foster home - I knew nobody there, I was scared, I was alone. I just wanted to go home. The worst part was that they took my brother, who could not have been more than two or three years old to a different home, and he was sick. I remember lying on that foreign bed and crying every morning at breakfast. I didn't understand anything. Even though I can only remember two details, I would have to say those two weeks were the longest of my life.
After my mother was cleared of any wrongdoings to my brother, we were released to her custody. We left west Sacramento and ended up in a women's shelter. I don't remember anything about that place except that it was blue like the sky, and that some nice lady had given me a blanket. I still have that blanket. It's worn and tattered, much like my life, but it does its job.
After the women's shelter we moved into apartments, and about six months later we moved into a duplex across the street from Williamson Elementary School. Since my brother and I were much too young to understand the ordeal we had been through, we were both enrolled in school and started our lives out much like any other kids. We just didn't have a dad. I believe I was more interested in my favorite color or what I wanted for my birthday than my father, though. It was like that part of our lives had never existed.
The reason why my brother and I lived normal lives during our younger years was the fact that my mom had a boyfriend. His name was Larry, and he looked more like my brother and I than our own mother did. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, just like us. As far as we knew, Larry was our father. I don't remember much from elementary school besides the fact that it was a fun happy time in my life. I was a hyper kid who just liked to play tag with the boys.
My happiness continued through middle school, I succeeded in just about every aspect of school, and I had a wonderful group of friends. I decided to join track in the sixth grade, and I put absolutely all my effort in being the best I could be. That doesn't mean I was good, I just tired really hard. My aunt was a coach and I wanted to make her proud. See, I just tried so hard that I physically wore myself out. I would walk home, sometimes limp home, and just fall asleep on the couch.
Sounds pretty normal right?
Since Larry was basically my dad, he sometimes offered to massage my feet or legs or something so I'd feel better. Of course I thought nothing of it - and nobody ever would, but sadly the world is a little more fucked up than that. These "massages" turned into something quite different; something that I didn't understand, something that my brother was sent to bed early for. I had always thought I got to stay up later because I was older. It's a damn shame that I was so ignorant. To put it frankly - my father molested me. Now, shit happens. I know it does, but usually things don't continue on for a year. Almost every day I came home from track, things happened. It started to happen when I went to sleep too. I slept on the top bunk and he was really tall, so I guess it was easy.
All I knew at that time was that I was happy. I had a Dad, and I didn't care.
There's one very odd thing about all these happenings - where the hell was my Mom? My Mom was diagnosed with Hepatitis C when I was in the sixth grade. She had to give herself shots twice a day, and continue working. The shots made her basically unable to pay attention to anything. She did a lot of sleeping during that year. Luckily, she is now cured of Hepatitis C.
One day, August 15th, if I remember correctly, I decided that I didn't want to do the dishes. My Mom was on her computer, doing whatever she did on that at the time. She was a tad annoyed with me, because of course, the dishes were the most important thing in the world and they had to be done right then. Larry stormed out of the bedroom and said something to the extent of, "Do the God damned dishes, you little bitch." I instantly started crying, and not your normal sixth grader tantrum. I was bawling my eyes out. I eventually stopped, did the dishes, and went to my room.
My aunt was having a party that day, and of course I had to go. I don't really like my aunt's house, it's always full of cat hair, and I didn't really have the most pleasant of mornings. A few minutes after arriving, I couldn't help but crying. I didn't even know why I was crying. My Mom and my aunt took me to the side and asked me what was wrong, as usual family members do. My Mom was sort of upset that Larry had called me a bitch and asked me about that. I remember nodding my head, and just crying more. More and more, for some reason that I didn't understand. She asked me if anything else had ever happened, and my world just shattered. In that single instant, my world of perfect bliss turned to chaos and regret. I told my Mom what had happened. The party afterwards was very interesting, and all I can remember is sitting on my aunt's bed, thinking about how awkward it was being in her room. I heard a few noises, a door slam, and then my aunt came into her room to tell me, "He's gone."
Nobody really spoke of it again after that day. We stayed the night at my aunt's, I was asked some rather awkward questions, and a few weeks later I visited a doctor to make sure everything was okay with my body physically.
Everything was okay, physically.
I decided not to press charges, which is the one decision that I regret more than anything in the world when I look back on my life. I would have loved to send the bastard to jail if I had the chance now, but at that time all I wanted was closure. I didn't want to go through a whole trial and be asked even more awkward questions by people I didn't even know.
I still thought of this person as my father - the one who was supposed to protect me. It took me a while to even realize what had happened. I had only told my Mom because I was so upset about being called a bitch. That's it. I was a happy 13 year old, why would I change that?
All of that was the summer before the 8th grade started, but surprisingly, I continued living in a world of bliss. The 8th grade, to this day, was one of my favorite years of school. It took me a while to understand, and I think it took so long because I couldn't accept that the one person I trusted the most in the world had done something horrible to me. It didn't make sense; the world was a happy, good place, where good things came to good people.
Goodness was I a silly little girl.
I spent most of my freshman year as a normal teenager again. I had a boyfriend, Greg Will, who was amazing, I had good grades, I had good friends, I was just missing that Dad thing again, but it was no big deal. I was happy.
This bliss continued until about my junior year. Greg and I had been dating for a good two years, and we were both about 16. 16 year olds in high school who have been dating for two years are thinking about one thing - and one thing only - sex. We both wanted it. We started getting intimate, and all that fun stuff, but when Greg touched me, my head started to hurt. I felt faint, and sick. I asked him to stop - and he did because he is the best damn guy in the world. Greg had known what happened to me, but he didn't understand it. He didn't understand why I couldn't do something I really wanted to do. He didn't understand why I cried, and why I felt sick. I didn't even understand. He was always privileged. He always had everything he needed. He'd never experienced my pain. He told me that sex wasn't important, and that he loved me. Good lord was he a good boyfriend. He said he'd wait until I was ready.
Then a year went by, and we had made a new friend named Jon. Now, this guy did not look intelligent, but he could read a person like a girl on a diet reads nutrition facts. He asked Greg one day, "How can you go out with someone for three years and not have sex?" Greg had told me what happened, and I just shrugged. I didn't know. He didn't know. Ever since that day, our relationship just started dying. It had cancer. I stressed about not being ready for sex, and he stressed about me being stressed. I hate vicious cycles. They're incredibly vicious. We spent the rest of senior year together, because breaking up at the time would have been too much to handle. We wanted to experience Senior Ball and Sober Grad Night as ourselves, and by ourselves I mean together as the couple we always had been in high school. We were never apart, ever. Some people even considered us the same person.
Soon after Graduation, on June 15th, I broke up with Greg. The relationship was just so much stress that I believed it was unhealthy for us to try anymore. It really was, because even though I cried every night for about a month, I had an incredible weight off my back. I didn't have to pressure myself to have sex anymore. The thing was, all of my friends from high school were based off of mine and his relationship. I felt it was much too awkward to hang out with anyone, and I didn't want to talk about what had happened. Last summer I was a hermit. I spent most of my summer thinking about what had happened between Greg and I, why it happened, and life in general. It was the longest summer of my life, and I don't know if I will ever have one longer.
Now, I come from a family notorious for smoking pot, drinking, dropping out of school, all that junk. As soon as I figured out what happened to me, I should have probably gone off the deep end. Just about anything would have been good: weed, alcohol, anything to make the pain go away. God, growing up is such a bitch. But, ever since I realized how much I didn't want to be like my family, I've refused to do anything of that sort. I had to find solace in something else in this world.
I've been playing the Viola since the fourth grade. Music has always been in my life and I think it is just about the best thing in this world. When I finally figured out why I couldn't love the person I loved more than anything, music was my drug. Music cured my pain, music made it all go away. I was never actually that great at playing anything though, so I decided because I wasn't that fabulous at making music that I would try to support my orchestra with everything I had. I did so many things that I would have never done. I walked, in the rain, for a half hour, to work a 6 hour shift, on my period, to serve some bitchy lady complaining about melted butter, for free. I loved my orchestra. I worked so hard my Senior Year to make sure every single person in that class understood what magic music really was. I like to think that I accomplished that goal, or at least made them appreciate orchestra a whole lot more!
Because of what happened to me, I grew to be a very shy person with very tall walls made of brick, reinforced with steel, and then a layer of some other worldly material that would be impossible to destroy on this planet.
My Senior Year, I had a small schedule conflict so I ended up taking AP French in a French II class. The people I met in that class - Kenny, Crissy, Sara, Martin, Irina, Anna, and Patrick all helped me tear some of those reinforced walls down. They were absolutely the most accepting and wonderful people in the world, and I hope they know how much they mean to me. They have no idea how simple acceptance and friendship can literally change someone's life. They were my drugs, too.
Now that I'm at UC Santa Cruz, I feel that nothing can stop me. These walls of mine are tumbling down, and even the gravel piles that remain afterwards will soon be shipped off. My life has seriously been fucked up, but I've made it. I did this, all on my own. Many people would ask, "what about your Mom?" Well, my Mom, after this incident with Larry, well, we never had the same relationship again. She cried for months afterwards. I've always felt that she believes that I was lying, and that it's my fault that she's now single. I don't believe that her unhappiness in life is my fault, but the idea that my Mom basically secretly resents me hurts. I know that's not true either - because she is my mother, but I can't help but feel that way. My Mom has rarely ever been there when I needed her the most mentally, but she has always been there for me physically, and I can never thank her enough for that. Nobody has ever been there for me mentally when I needed them the most. I'm a lone ranger, and I've accepted that. The only person I can count on is me. What doesn't kill me will only make me stronger.
When I think of my story, I think of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, or the other countless stories of misery. Many shitty things happen to a lot of people. I know that. I'm not trying to sob, I don't want attention, but I want people to know me for who I am, and my story. I am tired of hiding behind shame. I am proud that I have come this far in life on my own - no drugs, no nothing, just me. I still think of Larry as my father today, but instead of what happened, I just like to think he is dead. It lets me keep the good memories in my heart, because when he was my Dad, he was the best damned Dad on the planet. I'd also like people to know that there is good in life. There is good in peoples' smiles, their hearts, and their words. I'm not a pessimistic person, I'm just a realist. Not everybody is a bad person, but when it comes down to it, you're on your own, so be prepared. I have learned so much about myself in such a short amount of time, and if I am able to read these words out loud, I believe that I can move on, after five years of living in my own personal hell. I will move on, I am moving on. This is my story and it will be a damned good one, because I call the shots. Nobody will ever dictate my life again, and I will press on like the trooper I am. Life is a bitch, but only if you let it knock you down.

Looking Up Again :]

The ADD WHM, it'd be so intense, but the ADD only has one hand to type with.

oh baby, life is good.

Horrible, Horrible Night

So last night was pretty terrible

might've broken my hand

fabulous.

What Do I Do?

....

Life is very annoying right now.

Google is Freakin' Awesome

Yay Gandhi day

If You Read My Last Blog

... out loud like this guy

it's kind of hilarious



POWERTHIIIRSSST

YOU'LL HAVE 400 BABIES!

PS: Fuck yeah Astronomy Discussion was only a half hour long :]

ARE YOU FREAKIN' SERIOUS?!

Way to push me down the stairs,
watch as I fall and bleed and hurt myself
and then point and LAUGH AT MY ASS

Thank you life, you are a damned bitch.

GRRRRRRR D:

K so

TODAY

WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A GOOD DAY

I WAS SUPPOSED TO ENJOY SOME TIME WITH THE SLUG.

THE SLUG, YES, THE SLUG.

THE CUTE ONE.

....

BUT APPARENTLY,

SOMEBODY

HAD BEEN LEADING

SOMEBODY

ON

A LITTLE

AND DIDN'T THINK TO TELL THAT PERSON 'TIL TODAY!

WHEN SHE WAS SUPER EXCITED TO SEE HIM.

AND HAD JUST DONE SOMETHING TOTALLY FUCKING STUPID D:

NOPE.

DON'T TELL ME!

WHAT THE FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK XD

REALLY?

*jawdrop*

K so then

I had my Porter Core Tutorial

Where that JERK was

and where I was going to make him feel bad

ABOUT BEING A JERK

BUT

I didn't get a chance to read my paper

which is good, 'cause I WAS SO DAMN MIND FUCKED

that I couldn't really think straight anyway

BUT

I learned a lot about that JERK today

and some other RANDOM DUDE

but I don't care about the RANDOM DUDE

...and I like the jerk again

teehee :3

WHAT A DAY

WHAT A WORLD

Oh but let me tell you something very funny:

My friend Alex, (man I sure talk to him a lot lately ...eww) told me last night that Marc was going to tell me he was gay today.

Gay.

I lol'd at Alex's stupidity.

BUT HES NOT FUCKING GAY

HES GOT A GIRLFRIEND

WHAT THE FUCK

See, it went like this, Alex said

"Marc's gonna say Darlene, I have something to tell you."

AND GUESS WHAT MARC SAID EH

EXCEPT HES NOT GAY

WHAT THE FUCK

When he said THOSE EXACT WORDS

I almost died

HOLY SHIT

lol

Darlene, I'm actually seeing someone else right now

*jawdrop*
*smile→frown*

FUCCCCCK

Now I'm stuck with deep jerk guy with nice smile
and fucking Tanner

"HEY DARLENE, CALL ME SOMETIME K?"

/walks around the corner

lolno

XD

PS: Halving the Bones = good movie

I also cried to my roommates for like an hour today.

Fucking intense bonding shit, like you don't even know.

!!!

Oh and I made fun of Oboes

lolOboes

XD

Mystery Mithra

http://mysterymithra.livejournal.com/

Funny stuff! :]

Super Intense Blog Tomorrow?

!!!

Yes, prz!

It's Hard Being a Dreamer

You just expect so much more out of the world.

...and you're always let down.

Urban Dictionary #1

"Keep fucking that chicken" (KFTC) is a phrase coined by television anchor Ernie Anastos during a live broadcast of the Fox 5 New York local news. It is presumably a phrase of encouragement similar to keep on truckin, only with a more pronounced and colorful air of defiance. The chicken being fucked may be an actual chicken, could be pejorative slang for a woman, or some other metaphor for an object of desire or enjoyable activity. In any case, KFTC seems to be a gesture of support to the recipient to continue doing whatever it is that they're doing, despite what others may say, so long as it makes them happy. "Adam: I could be making more money at another job, but I like the work I'm doing now. Bob: Whatever, keep fucking that chicken."

KEEP FUCKING THAT CHICKEN!

Urban Dictionary is so amuuussssing :]

PS: Women are not objects. Fuckers.

Personal Narrative for my Porter Core Class:

Background info: Porter College @ UCSC is notorious for weed and some dickhead tried to get me to smoke weed all week. He is going to be reading this Thursday afternoon. Oh, it will be fun. :]

My Experience with Mary Jane
Mary Jane, the lovely nickname for Porter’s favorite plant, marijuana, has played quite the significant role in my life thus far – yet I’ve never smoked! Because I choose not to smoke, many things in my life are different that what they would be if I did. My relationships with friends and family have all been affected, but not smoking has helped keep me motivated in life. It’s one thing I can hold on to, and oddly enough it defines a lot of my personality. It’s amazing what one little plant can do!
It all started back in middle school. I was living life, having fun, doing well in school, and was generally just a happy person. I had a wonderful group of friends who came over to my house every Wednesday for some “good clean fun.” We just threw plastic chairs off my roof and made videos with my terrible web cam - your usual group of crazy punk kids. I had a boyfriend who was fabulous. He was cute and treated me right. People at Mitchell Middle School started smoking weed around the 7th or 8th grade, but that wasn’t really such a big deal, at least it wasn’t in Rancho Cordova. Well, it wasn’t until that awesome boyfriend of mine fell for a girl who loved to smoke. We broke up rather quickly after I found out that he liked her more than me! That was my first experience with pot – not really anything life changing or horrible, but not the best first impression of Miss Mary Jane. Through the rest of my years in middle school I watched many bright kids succumb to weed, and honestly, when I think of all the wonderful things those people could have done with their lives, it is probably one of the things that saddens me the most about this world.
Eventually, you graduate from middle school and move on to “High School” or what most people consider the closest thing to the gates of hell. I know I did a few times! Since everybody in Rancho Cordova goes to the same high school, Cordova, I kept most of my friends, and we continued to enjoy ourselves and just be happy kids. We didn’t smoke, we didn’t drink, and we just did our thing. It was wonderful, but it sadly only lasted about a year. Since I was so happy during that freshman year, I never really noticed all the people dropping out, getting pregnant, or just falling miserably behind in class. The teachers at Cordova usually tried to hide that from us happy students, anyway. Though I’m sure I was one the few they successfully “hid” it from, because I lived in a world of bliss. Not only was I nearly physically blind, but I was blind to the negative things in the world. As I went on through high school, my friends started to experiment. I was fine with it, because weed really wasn’t a big deal, and I wasn’t going to lose my friends due to some plant. None of them smoked more than once a month, so I just got over it. We were in high school, and that’s what people do, it was how life worked, and all that jazz.
I would have to say the first friend of mine to really go off the deep end was Anthony Hawkins, who I just called Hawkins. This guy was my boyfriend from back in middle school who liked that other girl, but we had stayed good friends ever since. He had also smoked ever since. I must say, Anthony is one of the smartest people I have ever known. I used to have deep conversations with him back in algebra. They were intense. I knew that he could go far in life, and thinking about it now, I really wish he would have done more to get farther. He meant a lot to me, just as a friend, but I couldn’t do anything with him because his favorite past time was to hang with ‘ole Mary Jane, and I just didn’t do that stuff. So, our relationship deteriorated to not much more than a wave and a casual conversation in English. Disheartening, but I was able to move on.
The next friend of mine who really got into pot was my Asian, Ricky. Ricky and I were extremely close freshman year. I literally loved the kid. We had PE together, and he kept me motivated, I kept him entertained. It was a wonderful little relationship, though it was never “official.” Seeing Ricky get into pot, and totally forget about me, and the rest of my group of friends was heart breaking. But once again, it happens, and I was still living in bliss, so it didn’t affect me at the time. Thinking about it now, I really wish I could have done something more to make him make a better choice, but there’s no use in regretting what happened in the past, and I’ve moved on.
The friend who hurt me the most by smoking was Mr. Anthony Sanchez. I met Anth, as I like to call him, in a 7th grade history class. He instantly became one of my closest friends. We were together all the time and he meant just about everything to me. Through most of high school he didn’t smoke, and our friendship continued to grow. That friendship lasted all the way to Senior Year, when Anth decided to try weed. Once again, no big deal – I don’t care if people smoke. It’s their choice, their life, their body. I won’t condone someone for doing something. The thing that hurt me the most about Anthony was the fact that all through high school he’d preach about how terrible weed was, and how it was so important for all of us to stay away from it. He watched Ricky change with me, he saw what happened to the other people who smoked, and then he did the same exact thing. Since I cared about Anthony so much, I tried to talk to him about it, but I was only ignored. I felt helpless, because I love my friends to death, and I’d do anything to make sure they were okay and that their lives were in order. There’s a part of me that just wants to take care of everyone and everything. After being ignored, our friendship just died. He found new friends, and not only completely ditched me, but his other good friends. I just don’t understand why anyone would want to do that to the people they care about. I never received an apology or anything. I’m still a little bitter about that whole situation.
My little brother was the next to go. My Mom was diagnosed with Hepatitis C when I was in the 6th grade, but see, we had her boyfriend at the time to take care of us. My Mom’s boyfriend left right before the 8th grade, for reasons that are far too personal to explain casually. I have been taking care of my brother ever since then. My Mom was cured of Hepatitis C, but she advanced farther in her career and she simply did not have the time to take care of my brother because she was too busy working to keep us fed. Considering I was a mere freshman in high school, and I had things to do and a life to live, having to worry about my brother took quite a toll on me, and as I grew up more, I worried more and more about him. He was okay until sometime during my Senior Year when he started to smoke. He comes home sick now, and he is one more mistake away from walking into juvenile hall. I feel like I’ve failed him, because I know he could do so much more with his life. He is such an intelligent person and he could do anything in this world. Friends are one thing, but when pot gets to your family, especially the person you care about in your family the most, you start to resent things.
Coming to UCSC, and especially Porter College, I knew I’d have to deal with Mary again, but that didn’t stop me from going to a school I absolutely love. It’s not like I have to smoke. When I first arrived here, I was very much alone. Not one of the 15,000 people on the campus was from Cordova. It was a blessing, but I am also a very shy person and I’m probably not the best at putting myself out there and making new friends. The first few days I spent with my roommates, and they are wonderful, but I wanted to find some people that I could connect with on a level that made me feel more at home, basically, I wanted to find some boys! I usually eat breakfast by myself here so I can meet new people, and I did. I met a couple of guys who seemed nice, and one of them had a smile to die for. I ended up spending the whole day with them, and good God did I enjoy myself. Both understood the language of music, and I felt at home with them. They were nice, even if one was a punk, and the other was coming on a little too strong. I figured I had made some new friends, and I was so happy that I wasn’t alone anymore. The next day, class started and I figured I’d just see them after, or something of that sort. I spent the whole day trying to find them, and when I did, it was time for Porter Core. I figured that sometimes it’s just a pain to meet up with people, and it was no big deal. Then the same thing happened the next day. See, my new friends… they were into Mary. They really liked her, and they liked her a whole lot more than me. Whenever they went to smoke I went to sit in my room by myself. That wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time. It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal if I hadn’t of been forgotten about. Let’s just say I didn’t try to find them anymore. I know when I am not wanted around. I might have been extremely pissed off though, to say the least.
Life is quite an amusing thing. It knocks you down, and then picks you right back up. After sitting around by myself feeling quite angry for a bit, I remembered someone who I had met earlier in the week. His name is Marc, he was my Slug, and boy is he a cutie. I wrote him a little note and had one of his roommates deliver it to him. He contacted me the other day and now I’ve been spending time with him. The thing about this guy is though, besides how sweet he is, is the fact that he doesn’t smoke. He’s the third person I’ve met in Porter who has never smoked. Even though my first experience with making new friends in college didn’t go so well, I’ve now met this person I feel like I can trust and stick with. Maybe it’s because I’m silly and naïve, or maybe it’s because I really did find someone sweet to be around. I’m really hoping it’s the second one!
There are so many more common practical reasons to why I don’t smoke, but the one that really keeps me going is the experiences I’ve had with weed in my life, and how every single one of them has lead to an unhappy time or mass amounts of stress. Back at home I have a lot of people who look up to me and see me as a role model. I always want to be that person for them and weed just doesn’t fit that criteria. Even though this first week here at college has been a little rough, standing my ground has only made me feel stronger about my beliefs and who I am.

Quote of the Day

"Then the conversation turned to werewolf zombies, and then to twilight vampires, and I learned that the closed minded bitch I was talking to was really my true love!"

- Alex Stocks

You're a freaking weirdo, but I'd not have you any other way.

The Robot Guys

So, there's some people in our hall,

wearing cardboard boxes,

and singing songs from Grease.

They're robots, and they are freaking awesome.

I love college.

Sunshine

When I say something like...

Hello, sunshine
Good morning, sunshine
or
xxx, sunshine

It's a term of endearment.

Sunshine is one of my favorite things in the world...

so for me to call someone "Sunshine" is like saying,

"Hello, person who makes my life brighter."

I say if often, but that's because there's a lot of people in this world that do make my life brighter.

There's also a lot that don't.

...and this blog usually focuses on them.

but, I was thinking about this earlier on the bus ride back to Porter... so I decided to post it

mmmm, musings.

Muuussse~ Starlight~

Needs moar mooski.

ADD WHM, Minus a Heart

T.T

FML, FML, FML.

Hopefully tomorrow will bring smiles again.

'Cause good lord do I need 'em now.

...maybe I'll meet Wiggles...

for tea...

mmmm... tea...

This is an intense post, brought to you by sadness™.

Early Classes... Are Early...

Monday 12:30 - 3:10 PM
Tuesday nuffin
Weds 8:00 AM - 3:10 PM
Thurs Porter Core @ 3:30-4:40 PM → 7:00-10:00 PM
Friday 8:00 AM - 3:10 PM

FML DISCUSSIONS!

Grand Re-Opening of the Scruffzar!

Meat, Sushi, Cursed Soup, Cream Puffs, and PIZZA~!
Located @ Nyzul Isle

Freaking Intense.

Oh lord was today crazy.

Tomorrow may or may not be crazy.

Apparently, the decision is mine, and mine alone.

Who knew?

>.<

Lots of mixed emotions today. Total bliss → total reality check in about 3 hours? I dunno...

Intense... in good and bad ways...

WHAT THE FUCK

STOP QUITTING PEOPLE!!

x.x

Every time I log onto 'Tek site someone else (or in this case THREE PEOPLE) has posted a good-bye forum...

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

I'd be more sad but

I'm still on Cloud 9.

:]

My Cheeks Hurt.

From smiling.

Good lord, I am in love with the world, once again.

Hello life, hello bliss

GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINE~!

... mmmm Mr. Bliss

teehee :3!

Bio teachers who look like Super Man

are good teachers.

:]

I'm so freakin' happy.
I had a wonderful day.

YAY ASTRONOMY TOMORROW! :]

For JB:

Kilye - Sluttastic WHM :]

Look how cute the bow is!!

BLOG OVERHAUL

zomg, doesn't it look pretty?

I could do without the pink, but of all the blog templates it matches the purple the best.

Trust me, there was lots of testing.

XD

I think the ADD WHM banner looks fabulous, too, but it could use some extra touches here 'n there...

Paint never fails me.

I also like how I kept most of my old stuff :P I loved how my blog looked, but I was bored today so I made a banner! I also really wanted to use the pics of my char all decked out in her new .dats... :]

Mooski #4 Human - The Killers

:( They disabled embedding on the real music video!

So sad.

The Awesomesauce, It is so Delicious.

Well, 'cause I said awesomesauce, gotta talk about the food here.

At UC Santa Cruz, they serve the cheese pizza of the Gods.

It's freaking amazing.

It's piping hot, fresh, good cheese, good sauce, crispy but still soft somehow crust...

Ohh Emm Gee, Homie.

That shit is delicious.

The chocolate ice cream here tastes like chocolate milk, and it too, is Ohh Emm Gee Homie deliciousness status.

Today I have my first classes! (at 11)

I get to go to.... boooooorring Porter Core, ASTRONOMY!!, and um

Econ.

Yay, econ!

I love common sense 101! :]

I'm super excited... I just want to GO

Well, I have to travel across campus to get to Astronomy/Econ, but that's okay.

This campus is

B E A U T I F U L.

Like, even Akon couldn't make this more beautiful.

Oh and then there's my new friends

Who I think might actually die if they didn't smoke at least once per day...

They go out to the meadow...

I sit in my room and wait 'til they're done...

but see, stoners are stoners

and they forget me sometimes.. makes me really sad :(

but it's okay, 'cause people are funny when they are high :D

I still want to find my Slug too! I don't think he does anything, so I'd like to get to know him more since the only other person who doesn't smoke here is Leah and... well... she's nice... but I'd rather get to know him... XD

UCSC is so fun, so amazing

like, we go downtown (for free) on the bus and just hang out in music shops...

I must say, it is very chill..

Oh, and the SoCal people freakin' hate people who say hella.

It's hella funny, I saw a "NO HELLA ZONE" poster on someone's cork board this morning.. XD

This weekend, I get to go explore caves! Down and dirty in Santa Cruz wutwut?

Teehee :3 not really!

But man I can't wait FOR class and I REALLY can't wait for class to be over...

I'll be back at dorms at like 3:30... 11 - 3:30 MWF for class isn't bad :]

Oh and dude

we got hot showers this morning

it was glorious. I was so damn happy.

Though the guys upstairs keep telling us group showers conserve water...

I hate boys.

:]

Only in Santa Cruz.

STOP QUITTING

Jesus...

Vry,
Trey,
Calvin,

all in one week?

FML.

Not-So-Intense Post... :(

Blaarggg... couldn't find my Slug today so skipping Boardwalk thing...

Dinner wasn't good 'cause it was some weird BBQ event thing, and they closed all the dining halls so you had to go...

Failed horribly at my French exam... I'm in French II ftl ~.~

...and spent 2 hours in an uncomfortable dorm room 'cause I didn't wanna make Kim feel bad...

...gotta stop doing that

Mostly just a dull day...
and a HOT day

& cold showers freakin' blow XD

Hopefully tomorrow will be more fun :]

Um... Holy Shit College II?

So today was interesting,

got up at like 8:30

showered 'n stuff 'til like 9:30

had breakfast...

... logged onto FFXI ...

talked to mah Pecker... ♥
(Just so ya'll know, this is the normal highlight of my day.... :])

... got a SH+1 from Calvvvvvvvvvvvin...

Tried to fix my FPS problem again (no success)

Went to dinner... dinner kinda sucked :(

saw my Slug though! Yay Slug!

Um... went to this insane long ass Porter Core Class meeting thing...

I don't know how I kept my eyes open. Seriously. The first speaker was 10x better than the 2nd and good lord by the time we got to her I was just dying... thank god class isn't 2 1/2 hours long...

THEN...

Benjamin FUCKING Porter time...

Huh? Wut?

Okay, so like...

after super long boring thing of doom...

Our Slugs had set up a little "initiation"

Not hazing, mind you.

I don't do that shit.

So... we walk... the Slugs are dressed up in like tribal clothing with Squiggles painted all over them... was hilarious :]

They were playing drums... walking through the woods at 10 PM... o.O

It was kinda scary. I might've been freaking the fuck out.

Just maybe. You'll never know.

Then... we got to Porter...

... the "Portacle" spoke. XD

We danced. There were glow sticks. There was noise. There was insanity. There was a conga line. It was amazing.

Then the Slugs told us to go get stuff to make noise with... I went back to dorm and put all things purple on. (Violas + cold = bad noise ; ;)

We went to the middle of the campus, in some field, and just chanted danced and made noise for like... ever... XD

WHEN I SAY BEN, YOU SAY FUCKING PORTER!!

It was SO INTENSE! Craziest thing I've ever seen... o,o.

Porter College~
is the best fucking college in the world!!
Porter College~

Some dude brought a straight freakin' garbage can.... it was our "bass"
... and the bag pipe guy was there
bag pipes are freakin' awesome

Oh! The Slugs know how to dance to Thriller. Amazing.... :]

I just had a really good time... Ohh Emm Gee Homie Status.

Slugs told me it happens often, I am excited.

I'm thinking twice about skipping the Boardwalk Frolic tomorrow now.

I just gotta see if I can find my Slug so I don't have to hang out with Kim's little boy toy squad.... if I do... ugh...

They're rather annoying. DERP DERP DERP...

:3

Hrmmm.... H203... Slug.

Tomorrow, oh lord.

Tomorrow, there will be more blog.

and it will be SO INTENSE!!

People Who Post Angry Things Anonymously...

...are annoying.

At least have the balls to actually tell people who you are. We're all online. Nobody is gonna come kill you 'cause you don't like someone over the internet. Grow up, be a man/woman! Damn scrubs.
Posting anonymously just makes you look like a 5th grader who can't take anything they've dished out.

Queer Bait VII

Welcome to a long legacy of amazing fishies, my friend. :]

Confirmed!

Welp, my fabulous little divorcee, Calvin, has decided to call it quits... again (teehee)

Mostly because I hate being all sad 'n stuff in good-bye threads, I post here.

Even though Calvin has had his bad points in the past he's always been a wonderful friend to me, and I hope he has considered me about the same.

I always enjoyed chatting with his drunken self :)

I will miss him! But AS LONG AS HE KIT...

/stare

I'll be okay.

Let's hope people. :(!

Well, as I said, I don't care much for expressing being all sad about people quitting... but Calvin deserves some expression!

I think. :]

HOLY #?%@IN' CRAP!!

I'm at college.... thinkin' about loggin' into the world of my newly formed and more slutty WHM, but oh baby, it's just so exciting being here, and I dunno if I want to drop the I'm a huge freakin' nerd bomb on the new roomies yet... they seem fairly normal, anyway.

One of my roommates is already at a party... I dunno if she'll even survive. o,o She seems like she's here to make friends, not grades... scary.

This is pretty intense. The RA is nice and I already made some new friends... so not really scary.

Whenever I think of RAs though, I always think of a certain friend of mine I haven't spoke to in about a month getting in trouble for like... a Nerf Gun war or something.

'Tis a damn shame he did, too. Sounds like fun. :D

My Mom is about 20 mins away... so no heebie jeebies.

She's leaving tomorrow! She just wanted to bogey board.

She loves it... fo'sho.

Today has been super intense though... I'm probably gonna go troll 'Tek forums... missed out on some juicy VH1 action... then maybe go to sleep... I like sleep... bed is purple..!

PS: Euro key kicks ass.

€oolness.

Uh-Oh.

I've been caught.

The real world sees me!

Oh dear lord, help me.

Stephen, this does not exist. It never did.

PS: Miss you! And do me a favor and tell everyone hi for me, I've not logged onto MySpace or anything because it's been hard for me to get over my life here. Major issues, indeed. I just don't want to deal with things because I know in the end it'll just suck more that I'll more than likely never speak to / see many of our old friends again.

and oh yeah, I'm a nerd. :(

...but I'm sure you already knew that.

The Excitement, It Is So Intense.

Tomorrow is the big day... I get to meet my Pecker :]

Like ohh emm gee, homie.

THIS SHIT IS BANANAS~!

RE: Last Blog

I don't even care anymore.

It's just so much fun... to make fun... of the DEEP BREATHING... somehow :]

It's just like making fun of my favorite mule, Kletian. It never gets old.

Except there's a lot less hate and a lot more mad love for a mule with Mazurka.

FTW.

Happy 1 Year Anniversary!

I must say, it is such a wonderful day.

This goes out to my favorite couple, Ellatrix & my own Gomer :]

Congrats on a one year...

...

divorce?

Oh right, one of you is a giant *bleeped for my "innocence"*

and not like the kind you'd find in on of the ladies from Sex and the City's dreams--

the kind you'd throw up on the sight of.

Let's not get into descriptions.

TEEHEE :3

I guess they didn't sign a Prenup saying that one could steal the other's character if so desired.

Dang, that's pretty intense.

♥ Calvin XD

The Plan.

Wake up really early.

Get on train to mall @ 6AM.
Get off of train at St. Rose of Lima Park.
Go through mall.
Sit at bus stop outside mall @ 6th & L Street 'til Yolobus comes.
Get on bus.
Get off at airport.
Get on plane.

:]

Queer Bait VI

R.I.P.

:(

Yeah, Nevermind

I'll update again in two months....
maybe :]

Gotta go check out some new WotG missions!

....and stuff

xD

/geekon

Shineys Update :O

Check this shit people, summer been good to me!

Dynamis Lootz:

From FP~ (The JB makes skirts drop ♥)
Argute Gown

From SCL~
Argute Bracers
Argute Pants
Summoner's Doublet
Duelist's Boots

SCNM Lootz:
Stone Mufflers

Salvage Lootz:
Marduk's Crackows
Deimos' Cuirass

Nyzul Lootz:
Goliard Chapeau

I post pics later :] this comp I'm on is super fail

Thank you everyone for helping me get neat stuff!!

ACP - A Corossive Pewp

The first "Add-on" of FFXI was really dissapointing....

wtf @ $10... all you paid for was the body piece :(

I was expecting a lot more from this... all it was was gathering items for hours... and a few BCs

though I must admit, the SA Goblin was pimp shit, that was hilarious!
& the final BC was pretty neat.

I can't really say a well spent $10... but at least it's not $10 a month :]

Well, Actually

I'll give ya a summary, since I know Calvin finds himself lost without knowing everything about my life...!

Last couple months, big events:

Graduation
Sober Grad Night
4th of July...? Was that even big? lol

Yeah, I've had no life for the last few months... my life has consisted of FFXI, FFXI, and um.... FFXI.

and by FFXI I mean Packer... yep yep ♥

Oh So Lazy....

I'll get back to updating my life... later :]

New Hat, KaaKaww!

Super retardedly excited about this hat, 'cause it like looks cool,

(It's good for the skirt, too!)

The DREAM HAT may have competition.

Only maybe, though

Anyway, my hat is cool, thanks a lot 'Tek!

"Beast"

"Beast" is term used to describe many things--

It originated within our Rugby team, I think...

There are many ways to use this word,

1. "Hella freakin' beast" means, wow, that's really awesome!
Astral Burn is hella freakin' beast.

2. "Get beasted on" is like wow, you got really owned!
(Cabby) Vry if you were a girl, I'd slap you.
(Vryali) Cabby, if you were a girl, I'd just rape you.
(Kilye) Get beasted on, Taxi!

3. "That (noun) is beast" is, that (noun) is insanley good at something!
JB is beast ninjar~!

Teeheeeeee :]

End of Orchestra...

Last day of Orchestra was yesterday...

it was a fairly fun day...

Fun Awards were fun...

Friendliest, Most likely to move the farthest away from home, BEST Senior Girl (take that Sarah!! >:]) /

Yeaaaaaah, boy.

Then Senior speeches afterward... which was like all of us trying to talk at once, lol

and Stephen... telling the Freshman not to do drugs like 5 times

MarkandStephen.com! (Yes, it's a real site, no, I've never been to it, and don't plan on it)

Then the Simmies... gives us his advice...

1. Don't get preggo early
2. Don't fall in love too early
3. Have fun
4. Actually do something with your life
5. Always cherish music!

Yay...

But like... then he went on a tangent, of course,
and he just like said,

"Look around guys, 'cause this is the last time you'll be my students... take the room in."

and we all just started ballin' like babies XD

Least, we felt like it, and oh man, that was one of the saddest things ever,

I absolutely adore Orchestra... it means everything to me...

Now it's like, gone...

Sometimes, time is too short...

Today I go to school for two hours... to do nothing...

Why? 'Cause it's probably the last time I'll ever see some of those people

Do I exceptionally care? Not really.

Does it make me feel a little better? Yeah.

I just can't believe this is the end... there's so much to miss...

but oh man, have I mentioned UCSC?

The like, best school in the world?

Oh, okay!

That makes up for any sadness for leaving CHS behind...

But it might take a little bit to get used to it... :(

The delicious food may help :3

"Hella Days"

Hella days is something my brother says often,

like "hella" it makes no sense, whatsoever.

which is cool, 'cause this is Cali

and more importantly, Rancho Cordova

we go dummy hard here :]

Now, something that is hella days crazy

is basically very crazy...

See... it's just a variation of hella...

but it's HELLA DAYS.

tu as compris?

The language here is so colorful...
and by colorful... I don't know if I mean interesting,
or just plain stupid

"Hella days stupid"

XD

Star Ocean: The Last Hope

Here goes me being a super dooper dorky nerd again :]

(I like RPGs)

Soooo, beat Vesperia,

Awesome game, fo'sho.

So, been playin' Star Ocean: The Last Hope @ a friendly's house

Oh, how I love being able to play a 360 without the price tag :]

Anyway, Square does not fail to make a movie out of any of their RPGs now-a-days, eh?

I like the movie though...

a lot...

Plot line seems to be moving nicely so far!

The characters are cool, but as usual the main guy gets all hella bitchy and emo... blahblahblah shut up retard...

seems to be a trademark of SE's main men, lol

and of course he's got his child hood best friend who he is madly in love with on all his travels... blahblahblah encore~

and they're special!

...you could even say The Last Hope~!!

Game is really stereo typical... but what's wrong with that?

Don't we like JP games... 'cause they're JP?

Anyway, seems a lot like the one for PS2, except there's a lot more actual travel, kinda neat...

There's also a character that's just like a Mithra from FFXI, lol

Battle system is awesome though, 'cause you can like change people (like FFX) which is so damn useful XD

You also get EXP for like finding chests, and doing quests besides the main storyline

and you can turn in random items you find for exp/money (fol)/crap that's good for your char's abilities

it's kinda neat... :]

Oh and there's this mage chick with hella big boobs

just puttin' that out there /

Astral Burn?!

Oh holy crap, Astral Burn is soooo fun XD

Let's do it again!

Again, again!

Teeheee :]

16k exp, yes prz /

Orchestra BBQ...

The last one...

:(... so much sadpanda...

Orchestra is like my life man...

...and it's over...

...

maybe I'm being emotional, but man

9 years... and it's all like over now...

wooow, what the hell!

Was pretty fun either way, 'cept my favorite band kid wasn't there

bastard is out camping, of course...

of course!

The Orchestra gave Mr. Sims a one-of-a-kind amazing special present this year

it was a handmade quilt,

with wonderful things for him to remember us by...

and

a picture, all signed by us,

duh.

Except,

the evil one, known as Sarah David

known to my Freshman as Sarah Devil~

picked the worst picture of me, ever

'cause my face looks all retarded ._.

man, she makes my blood boil!

/simmer

but in the end, who cares?

Simmies is happy, I am happy

and I am so sad.

so, so sad.

:(

I love music... most wonderful thing in the world...