WTF, Life?

How do you believe that someone you love is gone? How do you tell yourself that the loud, jolly, funny man you sat around the campfire with last week is now gone? My grandfather, who we call Pépère (French thing), was visiting us from Cape Cod as he does every year. He is the most loud, obnoxious, but completely loving and jolly man you could ever meet. He looks like Santa Claus and actually played him at Christmas time. He looks forward to visiting us and so do we. The week he's here consists of campfires, casinos, lots of beer, and that embarrassing story of me when I was three years old. He arrived last Saturday (the 30th) and I hadn't got to see him because of work, etc. until Sunday night at the campfire when he returned from the casino. What a night... hot dogs, music (thanks to my wonderful guitar-playing boyfriend), goofy dancing, beer, and that damn embarrassing story again. It was great. On Tuesday morning, Phil and I got up early to head downstate for a few days to see his family and would return on Thursday to enjoy the rest of the week with Pépère and the rest of my family. It was early when we left, so we didn't bother to wake anyone to say goodbye; we would see them again on Thursday. He and I did some shopping (me maybe too much) and finally arrived at his house in Boyne City and I began to play with one of my new scrapbooking gadgets. About ten minutes after arriving I received a call from my mom that Pépère had collapsed at our house, gone to the hospital, and passed away. It's funny how my little scrapbooking toy that I was so excited about playing with had suddenly meant nothing. How could he be gone? How could I not have said goodbye? How could those yearly visits, my favorite time of year, suddenly end? I wish that everyone I know could have known my Pépère. In fact, I wish everyone in the world could have met him. He was loud, and never let you get a word in edge wise, which made him a great guy to be around. There was never a quiet moment, always stories being told and funny sarcastic remarks being made, and always, always with that thick Bostonian accent. I know he is in a better place, and is probably happy to be with my Uncle George and Aunt Karen (she passed away on Father's Day). I will really miss him. Next year's Fourth of July week will be a terribly lonely one. I hope he realized just how much he brought our family together and knows just how big of a whole is in our lives now that he is gone. We miss you, Pépère.

Here is a link to my cousin Nicole's blog entry about our wonderful grandfather: http://www.nikkinoodle.blogspot.com/

Well, it is finished. The weeks of late-night rehearsals, of costume fittings and make-up testing, and of line and blocking memorization have come to an end after just four days of shows. It is crazy to think that the last few months of my time have been devoted to just one weekend, but it was worth it. I met some very cool people, played an incredibly fun role, and learned more about Shakespeare and MacBeth than I ever thought I could in my entire life. I truly will not know what to do with myself every Sunday thru Thursday night. Okay, probably homework, but I will miss doing it on the floor in the theatre with my rehearsal skirt, sweats, and dance shoes on. I will miss my witchly sisters (my heart goes out to you, Colleen and Heather), our crazy hairdresser David, and the wonderfully smart and funny little 10-year-old actor named Max. The next week will be filled with flashbacks of wigs, lemon-juice and water, that weird Egyptian or belly-dancing type music they played pre-show, the fog, and the green room.

Since I dashed out of the theatre to make it to the cast party I cannot get a certain image or feeling out of my head. After our first scene, I dashed off to the front to make my second entrance for Act 1, Scene 3. There was, I think, about ten minutes of dialogue before we witches entered again, but I have been thinking about that moment back stage, watching King Duncan and the others converse while I waited in anticipation of their exit and my entrance cued by thunder and lightening. It was not nearly as exciting as Act 4 with red lighting, fog, a steaming cauldron (yay dry ice!), fire, thunder, apparitions, and a terrified MacBeth, but this second scene was great because it was filled with excitement and anticipation of a show that was yet to be fully performed. I hope I never forget standing there on opening night, and Jared (who played MacDuff) tapping me on my arm and asking me in a very panicked voice if I had seen the mouse run across the stage. I was disappointed I missed it, and Jared did not know that we had a mouse (actually two) who lived in the theatre. (I think they attended more rehearsals than some of our actors!) Gary saw it as a good sign, which I think it must have been because the show was a great success. Our mouse was, after all, right on cue. ;)

Some of the people in the show, probably a lot of them, I may never see again. Some I will miss very dearly. I will miss being tortured with make-up and bobby-pins. I will miss the feeling of rushing to the theatre every night before all that, welcomed by my two "Weird Sisters" and our director and assistant directors sitting at that table in the middle of the house. I will just miss seeing those people five days a week. Sometimes, you just get used to the routine.

As it is said, all good things must come to an end. After a month of rehearsing you forget your time and energy is only for a matter of a few days, but that is all it is. You forget that the moments of conversations between the other actors and even crew members will end and you fail to realize that they have become friends until the moment you say goodbye. I am happy to have my evenings back, but I am terribly sad to see MacBeth come to an end. I hope that none of us ever forget that for those four days, we were a community, we were fellow performers who, together, told the story of MacBeth and put on a damn good show. Thanks to everyone who was a part of the fun - who helped backstage, performed, and contributed to a damn good time!

Austin City Limits echoes through my room while the glow of the dim lights and the comfort of an old ratty couch create an atmosphere perfect for reflection. I'm sitting here with the love of my life, just relaxing and enjoying his company (which is why this must be short). This is happiness. So many years down the road, so many journeys ahead, a world of new places and new experiences will fill our lives in the years ahead, but this is perfect.

Okay, so can someone please explain to me why the hell I pay a massive amount of money to Lake State, only to get treated like shit because my life doesn't revolve around hockey? So, here's the story:

I went online this evening to find out when the SAC closed. (For all you non-Sault folk, SAC stands for Student Activity Center and is the gym/track/court rec room of the Norris Center.) Eleven o'clock it said...I would be alright leaving at nine. Which is what I did, and then went to WalMart, making my way towards the Norris Center by 9:30. As I was driving towards it, these Campus Securty Traffic Cops decided to diverge me in a different direction because they had the WHOLE FUCKING ROAD BLOCKED. No one could get into the parking lot, just out. Ridicu-fuckin-licous! Why the hell would you block off the entire parking lot when there are other things in the Norris Center that people need to get to besides the hockey game?!??! So, I ended up driving around and then went down to Citgo. I figured I'd drive and go buy myself a water to blow some time until they stopped blocking the road. Still blocked when I went back. Finally, I figured out one of the side roads probably wouldn't have traffic cops, so I went down it. I had finally made my way into the parking lot after waiting for ten minutes for one kind person to stop their vehicle and let me out of the side street. I was so pissed off at the idiocy of our university, but figured I could run off all of that anger once I got into the SAC. So, I walk in and the girl tells me they are closing in one minute! ONE FUCKING MINUTE and it was only TEN O'CLOCK!

First of all, I was pissed that they would block off the entire Norris Center for one stupid hockey game. Secondly, I am pissed because even with the delay, I should have made it there in time, but they closed one hour before the web site has listed!

If they're going to block off the entire Norris Center, why don't they just close the effing SAC and write to everybody's school e-mail addresses that it will be closed for LSSU's version of church service, a hockey game. Why not? They write us all the time about what fucking soup will be at the Quarter Deck every day!! I'd find it idiotic to close the SAC because of a hockey game, but even more idiotic to say that it's opened until 11, but it's not, and then not let people in even when it is open.

What do I expect, though, right? Lake State could give two fucks for those of us who could give a shit about hockey and actually go to school to go to school. Excuse me for being pissed off that it cares less about those of us who actually pay to go there.

So, here I am, sitting in a hotel room in San Antonio, Texas. There have been a lot of firsts on this trip. My first plane ride, the first time I've been south (King's Island in Ohio when I was about six really didn't cut it), the first time I've been to an authentic Mexican restaurant, the first time I hailed a cab by myself, my first taste of a Margarita, and my first REAL cowboy hat (my car, Flo, will no longer be wearing the WalMart basket-weave imitation hat). I have seen the Alamo and talked to a few Texicans. I have already bought a few souvenirs and some postcards to send off to those I've left behind in the freezing Michigan. Wearing shorts feels wonderful, though it doesn't feel like next week will be Thanksgiving. (It was funny to see a brochure for the "River Parade" that will be coming up. The picture showed a Mardi Gras-like decorated boat floating down the non-frozen river with the sidewalks on the edges adorned with Christmas decorations and those on the boat looking comfortable in the night air, without winter clothing). It was funny this morning to see Texans, who are not used to the morning air of 65 degrees, dressed in long-sleeved shirts and pants while we walked the streets towards the convention center in shorts and t-shirts. We found a cute little shop with belt buckles, cowboy boots and hats, wallets and purses made of hide, and very cool clothing. This is wear I bought my cowboy hat, after getting the stupid souvenir purchases of San Antonio shot glasses and Alamo t-shirts out of my system. It has been Heaven. Palm tress outside my door - 'nuf said. It is going to be terrible going back home, with just the airplane ride to look forward to (I discovered I love airplanes, especially turbulance...no exageration. I want to be a Blue Angel!). But, this trip has further proved that I am meant to be a warm-weather girl. I will continue later with the details of performing for the author of our short story performance, but now I must finish watching "A Haunting" on the Discover Channel. Bless you all in Michigan and Gooood Bless Texas!!

So...I have about a million emotions running through my head right now. Frustration I think is the biggest, guilt and happiness next. And they are all kind of jumbled into this hodge-podge of "Did this really happen to me tonight?" I really don't think I will ever get into the details of tonight's events - not just because it's kind of difficult to talk about, but also because no one on this fucking planet besides Gabby (who was there) would ever believe me - but know that it was a surreal forty-five minutes, in a good way and a bad way. Something I never in my mind would imagine could happen did happen tonight and ended in a way that felt, um, not so good? The question mark at the end of that means that my wild side, which hasn't had a chance to get out much, was in crazy seventh heaven tonight and felt spectacular. I don't know if any ending to tonight could have ended feeling completely good though because, really, the whole situation was awkward. Don't get me wrong, it was exciting too...and the chain of events leading up to it all, and really concluding it, were memorable in a good way. I got a t-shirt and an awesome show out of it and was able to meet a celebrity, but for a fraction of these wonderful memories there was a snippet of time in which I had to battle with the right and wrong...and had it not been for being forced to go for the "right" I am ashamed to say, that I might just have gone to the wrong. So, while I now have to deal with how to explain the whole thing to someone else and about how bad I felt in the end (which I do), a teeny tiny part of me can't help but be frustrated because this teeny tiny part wanted exactly what I could have had the chance to have. Had a couple things been a little different, who knows. But things are the way they are, and now I'm going to have to deal with it all, and I just don't know how...

*Sigh* Wow. I'm 21. That's going to take about a month to sink in. Just one year ago I came on to Live Journal and wrote my first entry called "Twenty". (Due to issues with my incompetence on LJ, it was accidentally and unnecessarily deleted.) It was (*surprise*) a poem about turning twenty and what that meant to me. It feels as if the last year has gone by so fast I had no chance to fully understand what it was like to begin my "twenties". So now, here I am, 21. I am legal to do whatever the hell my little heart desires...smoke (not that I do), drink, and yes, folks, even swear! But this is it. No more milestone birthdays. Of course, the celebration for this birthday is going to go on as a year-long festival, but birthdays will have a different meaning for me now. You know, before you turn 21, or before you turn 18, or before you turn 16, there are all of these ages you dream of being and in all honesty, I never thought I'd make it to any of them. It wasn't that I thought I was going to die before I hit the mark, but rather that the age was some imaginary land you invent in your fantasies and they stay fantasies for so long you start to believe that's all they'll be. But every time I hit one of those ages, it felt great. It felt as if the years had handed me another little piece of the world and said, "Okay, now try this." It was always something that told me I was older, wiser, more mature and yet still had time to goof around. But now, here I am. No more milestone birthdays (unless you count 23 or 25 for the lower rate of insurance...sarcastic "yay") and all I can think is, I've reached that distant land, but it is not what I saw in the store-shop window at all! Not because it sucks to be 21, but because I have done nothing to make my life what I want it to be. Kind of like, "Twenty-one and what do I have to show for it?" This age is life's little bitch-slap. It's going to take a bit for the sting and shock to pass, but when it does it's going to be an all out "it's time to take control of my life" moment, at least I hope. Of course, I should be grateful because this age is also life's way of saying, "It's time to start really having some fun." Oh, if only I could get my head out of my ass and just appreciate a good time. No matter what, though, it is kick ass to be 21!

No, I didn't get my corpus callosum cut, (Intro Psych experience would be helpful here) but I do have a split brain problem.

Let's rewind to Mr. Schomberg's class, seventh grade, biology. Oh sure, there was frog disection ("They look like blueberries!" said sweet and innocent Krista about the skinned eyeballs) and reports on dingos (sorry I got the topic before you had a chance Emi), but the most I remember learning from that class was just how difficult it was going to be to be me. "Question mark," you might say, so let me explain. There was a day Mr. Schomberg had set aside to discuss the difference in the left and right sides of the brain. During the class we took an interest/strengths test to determine if we were predominately left-brained or right-brained. My results? Well, let's just say my brain couldn't decide...I was evenly right-brained and left-brained. Some of you might say this would be an excellent asset to getting through life, but don't praise it 'til you try it.

Let's fast forward now to who I am today. Sure, everyone has their complex personality traits - likes, dislikes, and such - but usually everyone favors to one side of their gray matter. Not me. I need structure, but I love freedom. I'm into artsy hippy shit, but a part of me loves being in a college classroom, learning. Okay, I'm not going to go on, because I think you get the general idea. Now, this has benefited for me. I have been able to get along fine in art classes AND math classes, but how does one deal with being an artist and a nerd?

You don't. All my life I have had such a hard time making decisions, no matter what it is. It could be what kind of sandwich I'm going to make to where I want to finish college. I have always pondered until the last minute, torturing myself with pros and cons (yes, even with sandwiches) and then changed my mind in some way or another. (And any of you who really know me, know this is way to close to the truth.) They say it's important to be goal oriented, but that's a little difficult when one goal always comes with a counter-goal. Eventually, you just have to decide what side you are going to let control your life.

So, that's what I did. Sure, decisions are still difficult for me. It's hard to be a grounded free-spirit. (My life is an oxymoron.) But, I let my artsy side take hold of the reins. I recently even considered to make painting a source of income. So what's my beef then? Well, I discovered I might really like accounting...

Maybe I'll just look to astrology, instead of science, to determine who I should be...oh wait, my sign is a balance scale...WTF?!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Not much else to say really. There is so much on my mind that I am having a constant anxiety attack. I can't get into the classes I need, I don't know if my financial aid is going to cover the condo I'm going to be living in, and if things don't work out...no school for Stacy. I'm going to be leaving Phil (as in his house that I'm living in, not the relationship) in two weeks if I actually work things out with school and to top it off I have to go to work tonight. (My boss was very disappointed that I'm quitting.) I can't stop this constant feeling of nausea. I can't sleep and I think I'm going to be losing my appetite soon. I wish that summer could just last forever...okay, well, maybe only parts of it. The job part, not so much. Anyways, things aren't working out like I hoped. I do have a little more planned out goal than before, but there seem to be more obstacles. A perfect time for me to say, "WTF, life?"

Wow...wow. So here I am, finally out of the Soo. Not very far out of it, but out of it. How sweet it is. Sure, life has been weird, but oh so wonderful. My job is stressful and occasionally takes me away from some quality time I could spend with Phil, but at least I get to sleep on the job. And I may not be quite on my own yet, but i am NOT living at home. And sure, I'm away from my friends, but I have met so many fun people down here. There are advantages and disadvantages about being down here and living this life I never would have predicted living at the beginning of the year, but so far it has proven to make me happy. It has also showed me what is most important to me and what I want out of life. To love, to travel, to own my own home and business, to be able to take care of myself while I seek out my dream of becoming an actress, to continuously find new hobbies even if I do already have a dozen-no exageration. (Photography is most definitely the new one for the time being.) I can't help but absorb myself into all these simple pleasures. Not just new creative hobbies, but other things too. The sounds of birds outside my window when I wake up, the feeling of knowing someone I love and care about is close to me, the joy of a new independence, petting a cat with six toes on his feet (his name is "Big Foot"), calling my mom on the phone for recipe help, shopping in a grocery store and then going home to cook dinner, having a good time with new friends, learning more and more with my job, and smelling nothing but trees, birds, cut grass, and that wonderful banana bread I made this morning. I'm sure when I return to work on Friday I will be stressed and anxious, forgetting all of these simple pleasures in my life right now, but that will pass. I am so ready to continue and strengthen my independence, my relationships, and my feeling of being rich with life. It's somewhat scary to be this optimistic, almost like the sun before the storm. But as the quote goes, "A pessimist is right oftener than an optimist, but optimist have more fun and neither can change the march of events." I can't wait to see what comes next...

This is an entry I tried to post a while ago...probably a month or so..but unfortunately the site was not cooperating. Needless to say, I lost my first couple of entries I ever put on here and had yet to get this one on...so here I am to try again. A month earlier, this is what I had to say:

Ah, change...change, change, change. It's a scary thing, a stressful thing. Already this year I have got a boyfriend, changed my job, bought my own cell phone (no help from the 'rents), will be getting a student credit card (geesh), am moving downstate, and will be going on a crazy trip practically by my self. Of course, the craziness of it all has not quite hit. I have yet to start my job (training this Thursday :S ), my cell phone bill (and even my cell phone) have yet to come through the mail to tell me how much more in debt I am, the credit card...well, I just sent out the app today to get it, I don't move until next weekend, and the trip has yet to come. So, I apologize ahead of time to anyone who may attempt to communicate with me in the next month and instead talk to a crazy lady who doesn't even seem to know what year it is. My summer, my life, is about to go through the blender and I don't know if it's going to be a delicious smoothie filled with juicy happy moments and ice cold excitement or if it's going to be a disgusting combination of lard-textured memories, meatball mind-mushiness, sour milk sadness, and caffeinated stress...you know, something someone's little brother would have thrown together to see what horrible concoction could be made. Please be a smoothie.

Well, a couple of weeks ago, after all of the searching, application filing, resume printing, interviewing, and walking (in heels), I finally got a job - in Petoskey. That's right...and it's a somewhat real job, which is frankly a little scary. The whole job position is a little intimidating, even. I will be working as a residential advocate (R.A.) at a domestic abuse shelter. I'm nervous, yet happy. It was a little ironic that when it started to hit me what I was going to be doing, what a huge responsibiblity it was going to be, I decided to watch some repeats of The Shield, which I never watch. Of course the episode they decide to put on late-night Sunday television is one in which all of the women at a domestic abuse shelter get gunned down by a crazed husband in the very beginning. Wow, that made me excited. *sarcasm fills the air* No, really, though, I'm excited to be doing something that is going to help a community. I am getting nervous as it gets closer; I train this Thursday and Friday and I can't help but think I am going to forget everything I am taught. (Thank you Dollar Tree for your $1 notebook...EVERYTHING for my job is going to be written in that decorative little book with retro flowers and the words "dreams come true" embellished on the front.)

But the anxiety comes not just from the job, but everything surrounding the job. What happened to my move to Cali? Well, it's disipated...FOR NOW. It's hard to post-pone a dream. And all for what? For a man that has yet to feel as strongly for me as I feel about him. Don't get me wrong, he cares about me; he wants me so close to him that he helped me find a job down there and is just as excited as me that we'll be living in the same house. But, I can't help but think that one day, he won't be there and I'll be left with my dreams in the dumpster. Okay, maybe it's not so much that I worry he won't be there, because I trust him and our relationship enough to not worry about what the future holds, but the dumpster part is a real concern. I just don't want to keep putting it off. I want to be in California so bad. I want my future to start now. I think that's my problem. I'm too excited about what I'm going to do someday that I just don't want to wait. But at the same time, he is right -it will be easier to do what I want to do, no matter what it is, if I have a degree. Plus, if I stay in school here, I'll have to got to France, which is something I've always wanted to do.

But after all of the pondering and the questioning of my future, this job (which could inevitably keep me from returning to school for a while), and all the surrounding events and emotions and wondering why dream-chasing is going so slow for me it feels like it has stagnated, I read this quote by Confucius: "It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop." So, I don't know when and I don't know how, but I'm going to get to California, I'm going to be an actress, and nothing can stop me.

I don't even know what to say, what to type. I have made a decision back and forth but I know that I won't truly have my mind made up until the moment it has to be. Actually, even after that I will still be second guessing no matter what I decide. What does my future hold? I don't want to know, but I also don't want to have this decision over my head. I have a decision to make in a few months that will determine the rest of my life. Both paths would require a lot of faith and a lot of trust in myself. I have neither. Oh, when dreams collide. I love having my whole life ahead of me but I hate this time in it. Broke and bombarded with life-altering decisions. I just want to do the right thing that will make me happy. Why do I get the feeling neither will.

Wow, today was the greatest day of my life...for a while. Shall I continue? Well, I will anyways. The best part of it all was that I spent about five hours with Phil. I actually got to see him today! My parents had to head down to that area. I tagged along and had the best time just driving around, listening to music, and getting a tour of the gorgeous Petoskey/Charlevoix/Boyne City area. Even walking meaninglessly down the Gaslight District in Petoskey was awesome, because I was actually walking right alongside the man I have missed so desperately. I know, I'm cheesy, but it meant a lot. When I saw him pull into the Arby's where we were to meet, my heart skipped a beat. And when he walked in that door I couldn't speak. And when I put my arms around him...well, I lost my breath. And although he's not at the same spot as me emotionally, he still missed me. (I didn't pull that out of my ass, he actually said that...more than once.) It feels good to be missed by someone. I didn't even have that hard of a time saying goodbye because I knew it would all be okay. Driving home, I was fine. The day had been perfect. But when I got onto that Business Spur with nothing but chain stores from WalMart to Glens decorating the horizon, I felt miserable. And as I walked through the doorway into my bedroom at my parents house I realized, this room and this house are nothing but poison to me. I instantly felt miserable, depressed, alone, and negative the moment I stepped into this room. Too many memories in this room of dealing with good-byes (like last week), blowing off steam after fighting with my parents (like yesterday), and crying my eyes out so uncontrollably I collapse on the floor (like last night). I used to spend the majority of my time outside of this place, and now the majority inside it. I am going nuts in this shambled, cluttered, chaotic (currently spring cleaning) mess where all I can think about is how shitty every situation in my life is right now. I have to go to bed before I try to finish my cleaning job. I am so incredibly frustrated I just want to start cleaning. No, I must go to bed, get some sleep and work on it in the morning. I have to get out of this town!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, I did it. I told someone exactly how I feel about them. It took me a half of an hour to work up the courage. I stared nervously at their number on my cell phone ready to hit send and practicing exactly what I was going to say. And as the phone rang, I couldn't believe what I was doing. But I kept telling myself...if something happened to me tomorrow, would I regret never saying anything? The answer was yes, and that is what told me I was doing the right thing. Of course, that feeling is slowly disappearing and the adrenaline rush I was feeling earlier has turned into a whole bunch of worry, which is now consistently slapping me in the face. I don't regret saying it at the moment because a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. However, will I regret later? Tomorrow maybe when I talk to him? I shouldn't, no matter what happens. Even if I scare him away, I have told the truth. Truth is something that needs to be spoken. I've never felt this way about a guy. Like I said in a previous entry, there is something different about him, about this relationship. I definitely don't know what is going to happen now that I've let the cat out of the bag (or opened a can of worms), but I know what I feel and I'm not sorry for that.

Well, he's gone. I hate good-byes. It was so hard. When we hugged, I never wanted to let go. I don't think I've ever heald anyone tighter. All I kept thinking is that things will be so different. The place I spent all of my free time, all of the people I hung out with and my "comfort drug" (a.k.a. Phil) are gone. No more parties or picking the guys up from the Alpha. No more hearing "Stacy's Mom" every time I walk through the door. It's funny...I was so sick of hearing them sing that song and now, I miss it. As I let him go I also thought, is this it? I know it's silly. Phil and I have such a strong relationship I shouldn't worry. No, it's not our relationship that makes me worry, but my past relationships. Long distance has failed miserably for me in the past. But then again...I've never felt so complete with anyone else. I've never had such an awesome, healthy relationship. It's hard, sitting here listening to Jack Johnson (our mutual favorite singer), printing out photos of the camping trip we just took a few days ago, writing about him, and trying hard not to shed tears. Don't get me wrong, I have already cried quite a bit today. But at the same time I have this feeling that our incredibly fun, happy times will cheer me up and keep us together through this. There is something about him that tells me, this is different. Phil, I miss you so much. I can't wait until I get to see you again. Here's to the summer, to old friends coming back, and to a strong relationship getting even stronger. *Cheers!*

Well, I've got one thing to complain about and one thing to praise. Let's first take a look at what is currently pissing me off...

Birth Control. That's right, you heard me. I'm going to complain as a voice to all those of us women who are on the "no-baby-producy" pill. Let me say that although the "big-boobie" effect of this tablet may come in handy from time to time, the "big-belly" effect does not. Sore boobs, moodiness, and an increase in appetite that would make Takeru Kobayashi's stomach burst are not features that I wanted to add to my fun-loving, already-cranky personality. Oh yeah, and weight gain...well, let's not start that world war.

Now, something to praise...

The DaVinci Code. I finally read it and loved every bit of it. For those who have not read it I say to them, take it as a fiction story, only allowing fact to be what is stated as fact from the beginning. Have an open mind and understand that it is just a story. It will grab you from the beginning. I have to say, reading has definitely changed me a little. And if I wasn't broke like I always am, I'd buy it. READ THE BOOK BEFORE THE MOVIE.

Anyways, that was my rant and rave. See ya'll on the flip side.

Well, here I sit. I'm in the library of LSSU. I'm done with classes now. This is the beginning of the end for me. I will be leaving in about four months and am realizing now just how scary and exciting this is. I have no idea how I'm going to get out to California since my money situation is in the shit hole right now, and don't even know if I'm going to go to school. Hell, I don't even know what I'm doing this summer. Two jobs again? A job and a French class? Two jobs and a French class? One job, some R&R, and no $$$? I don't know what's worse, not knowing what's going to become of me in a year, or knowing what would become of me. Probably knowing. I've never been happy having my life planned out. I know one thing is for sure, I HAVE to get to California this fall. I'll never be able to live with myself if I don't. Not only is money an issue and the question of "Where the hell am I going to go when I get there?" but also, am I setting myself up for hurt? I've already brought myself near tears thinking about a certain unnamed individual leaving just to move a couple hours away. What will happen in the fall? After months of possibly growing even closer to someone, can I leave without a care to accomplish all I've dreamed of? Bittersweet is most definitely what Stephen Colbert might call "The Word" (for this summer). God, guide me.

"I Cannot Live Without Chasing Dreams"
par moi

A whisper brushes past my sensible ear
I quiet my indulgences just to hear
A three-thousand mile stretch of voice
It warns me of my destined choice
Pulsing 'cross the dusty earth beneath my feet
They flutter restlessly for pedal, wheel, and street

Oh the road-

It pulls the engines
With its seductive lines
Reflecting the sultry sun
And omniscient skies
It winds and whirls
Ropes through lands
Unknown to naive minds
And like the angel Andrew
This death of my secluded dependence
Calls to me "it's time"

Oh the road-

An odyssey is seeking me
Of paved dreams and route-side diner reflections
Forget my expected obligations
To follow its twisting, grasping direction

Oh the road-

What journey lies behind each curve
What will break my path at its end
I'd die for that sweet sunset taste
Of answers only answered on that bend
Horizon of fate holding secrets of new ways
I'll drink its tempting juice in these young days

Oh the road-

I'm coming
For the feel of the wheel between my fingers
For the feel of sand between my toes
And what of me
Only God and that highway know

Wow, how I hate those moments. I'm sure anyone else can relate. I had one of those moments where I say something and then feel like a total jackass after saying it, like I totally fucked things up by being a idiot and saying what was on my mind. That's almost as bad as a pick-up line pulled off an Internet-connected laptop shoved up your ass. "Fuck me if I'm wrong, but is your name Helga?" Now, although you may wish to fuck the non-Helga blonde, you should not say this. I feel about that stupid. The worst part is, I might have actually tried to make myself look like a jackass, a sub-concious tactic to drive a certain someone away. That's what I think I'm doing folks, driving someone away. Why? Fear. I'm a pussy and can't just tough things out and cooperate with the crazy, emotionally-charged, happy-go-lucky vibe that's haunting me. "Haunting you?" one might say. Yes, haunting. I am crazy confused and crazy fearful. Happiness is difficult to deal with, especially with the knowledge that there is a high probability it will "run away." I just hope things really do work out the way they are meant to work out. Until then, how do I keep myself from driving someone away?