#9

I love people.  I hate people.

Today, while I was walking there was a boy who came up behind me on his bicycle.  I'm going to guess he was between the ages of 13 and 16.  It's so hard to tell anymore for me.  The styling of young teen males is so very odd anymore.  But that is besides the point.  I stepped off of the path to let him pass by more easily.  Then to my shock and pleasure he thanked me for doing so, made eye contact, and wished me a nice day.  I love people.  This sort of interaction is so very rare for me, but it is how I think folks ought to be.  My day was made by this boy.  He will never know.

On my second stroll I was stuck in the median on Algonkian for a while waiting for traffic to clear so I could cross.  A man pulls out in front of me and as he is accelerating he does a double take, just so that he can look me up and down.  I realize my hair is pink, but this was... He didn't look at my hair he looked at my chest, my legs.

I also had this horrific experience of feeling as though I was the slut in a rap video.  It was...so queer.  I refer specifically to the video for the Hollywood Undead song "Comin' in Hot".  In the official music video the group is dressed a group of Mexican migrant farmers.  They begin to talk of all the things they want these girls to do in such a vulgar manner.  It's funny until it happens to you.  There was a group of hispanic guys and they were planting some trees just next to the sidewalk.  As I approached they stopped their work.  Some leaned on their rakes and they just stared.  The started saying stuff in Spanish and the tone of voice just made me feel awful.  They said some things in English too, and they were not polite.

Oh!  The way that makes me feel!  It is as though I am nothing, no one, just a body.  I have no thoughts, dreams, or opinions.  I detest that it is so very easy for people to do that to me.  My feelings of insecurity suddenly skyrocket and I desire nothing more than to become so tiny you cannot see me any longer.  Ugh!  I hate it.  I wish that I could control myself better in that regard.

Stopped into Walmart this eve to pick up a few things and when I was in the DEODERANT aisle these 2 guys come down to "buy some deoderant".  Yeahhhh.  They'd been eyeballing me as I was doing some other shopping and I'd heard them saying rude crap too.  "I'd tap that."  Nope, sorry, buddy.  I wanted to tell them to use they arrows they were buying to shove the hot dogs they were buying up their asses and stop ogling me.  My hair is pink.  That's the only thing that made it acceptable to stare at me.  I wasn't dancing, or wearing crazy clothes or.....anything crazy!

New goal: Lose control.  I have been so perfectly controlled for too long.  I have so many impulses, and I should act on them sometimes!  It's okay to do that sometimes.  It's healthy too.  So, that's what I'm gonna work on.  :)

#8 pink hair

Ahhhhhh!

Happy Leap Day!!!

So yesterday my dream was realized: I colored my hair.  I went and got it bleached and colored a hue called "Virgin Rose".  I absolutely LOVE it!  While I was expecting something rather more purple, this is simply delicious and I am just ecstatic.

I'm feeling really refreshed too.  Lots of people hate it: my dad, my brother, random strangers, my friends.  Lots of people love it: my mom, my sisters, my littlest brother, random strangers, my friends.  Mainly all I care about is that I love how it turned out.  I love how it makes me feel.  I do not give a fuck what anyone thinks of it.  I really do not.  If they don't like it, then I suggest that they not color their hair in this bold fashion.

For the record, I will wear a camo hat on top of this craziness.  I will wear a dress and heels with this.  I'm gonna umpire softball with this hair.  I am gonna have a happy, crazy, super swell start to my 20th year of life.  Thanks be to God for the smart people who figured out how to do crazy stuff like this to hair!

#7

Why won't you talk about whatever the hell you feel like you need to talk about?  Did you know that you drive me crazy?  I am an obsessive person.  And you say things all the time but never explain them which causes me to obsess over you.  Is this something that you do on purpose?  Does it feel good to know someone is thinking of you?  Cause if you say something nice I think about you for longer and with fonder memories.  


The Zone: I am still so curious and confused.  Before I fall asleep, as I am on the edge of consciousness, thoughts of the zone and what it is, what it means, and why you won't explain it to me jar me back to cruel reality.  When you listened to me go on and on about my disjointed, unclear memories of far of lands and my time there I was struck by how special you were.  When that memory passes behind my eyelids as I am balanced on the edge of consciousness it provides a gentle push.  


I land in a comfortable place.  There I can smile and run through sprinklers in a dress.  Won't you please, ______, come with me?  Leave reality and come with me.  ______, you can understand my joys and maybe have some of your own.  We can play musical chairs and when we lunge as the music stops neither of us will get rug burns... The chair will become a trampoline.  Jumping so high, together we can fly to the moon.  Why are you fingers so cold, ______?


It's okay if you don't want to come with me, ______.  You can stay in reality.  I promise that I will still visit you, ______, and bring you pistachios that I grew on the moon.


Good-night.

#6 giant spoons

Sometimes I let outside forces have rather too great an affect on me.  I talk to an angry, bitter, resentful little person and let his goading, his rage, his sadness wash over me and take hold of me!  He is able to possess me and wreck havoc through me.  But no longer will I stand for his bull shit.  I never really have, but I've always been more understanding.  Well now, I don't really care if he feels understood.  Why should I, when he makes no attempt to reciprocate?  The result is just taxing on my spirit.  Especially when I'm sick, exhausted, and emotionally spent. Then I just cannot.

I rather love him though, and I count him as a friend.

Ugh, I don't know.  I would like to kill him.  RIGHT bloody now.

Rather than ending his life, I shall use a giant spoon to eat my remaining cereal.  I will laugh at the absurdity of it.  I will savor the taste and feel of chocolate on my tongue.  I will let go and instead of being his friend I will be the wall he talks to when he's alone.

#5 haircut

When I make a decision to do something I just want to do it!  I hate to then have to wait, and plan more, and wait, and wait.  So when I made up my mind to cut off a good chunk of hair and then had to wait a week or so for it to happen as we found a day that all the women in the family could go, I got a little annoyed.  The other day we went and hot damn!  The last haircut I'd had, even to trim off the split ends, had been summer (sometime?) 2011.  A while at least.  I cut off a more than 6 inches and it just feels liberating.  I feel free, flouncy, sassy, and much bolder.  I can't imagine what I'll feel like after I color it purple!  

#4

"There ain't no dark till something shines.  I'm bound to leave this dark behind.  Ride the blue wind high and free.  She'll lead you down to misery, leave you low, come time to go.  Alone and low as low can be."


I love this song.  It's called "Rex's Blues".  Simultaneously melancholy and comforting, I keep listening to it, even though the version I have is a *girl* singing it!  Haha...oi...

#3 ten things I know to be true

1.  I will forever be short.  I am stuck at the most annoying height of 5'3".  Not average, yet not quite short.
2.  Without music I would go clinically insane.  I almost did one weekend till I sneaked into the car to listen to satellite radio.
3.  The sun will shine tomorrow even if I don't feel like it should.
4.  Blood is red.  It is also very metallic and when shed in great quantities lethal.
5.  I have an addiction to shine, color glitter, sparkle, and smiling.
6.  The coolest people are the ones that sit in the shade doing nothing.
7.  The hottest people are the ones out in the sunshine living life.
8.  Dog food does not taste very delicious.
9.  High-waist, tapered jeans are unflattering on everyone.
10.  Ice cream is the sweetest,  most delicious, most magically mystical substance.  Ever.

#2 loyalty

      His tattoo will read "My honor is loyalty".  He says that he isn't a Nazi, that he merely loves the SS.  With a statement like that I just had to ask.
      "Would you consider yourself to be loyal?  Is loyalty an important trait to you?"
      The reply he supplied me with really set my brain to working.  "Yes, loyalty is something very near and dear to my heart because I fell like very few people are loyal, especially to me, so I'm very selective with mine."
     "To whom are you loyal?" was my next query.  I know him pretty well and didn't expect much of an answer but I did hope.
      His answer wasn't what I'd been thinking to get, but it sure got me thinking more than if he'd really answered me.  "Currently at the moment I'd say I'm loyal to only about 2 or3 people really."
      Two or three people?  That seemed like a very low number of people to whom you are loyal, in my opinion. I know that for myself I am loyal to at least seven.  But then again, I do have a large family.  On top of those seven I'd add one, two, three, and four.  I know that I'd keep their secrets, be there for them whenever they called, and probably wouldn't snitch on them.  Unless they were gonna hurt someone or try to off themselves.  For that whole snitching thing though, I cannot be totally certain, as I cannot predict my reaction to such a situation.
           What do I know though?  Nothing for certain in regards to this.  I am a well blessed not quite 20 year old woman who has had a lot of very unique life experiences but none to really allow me a say in this but a say I have.  I believe that I am a loyal person.  I am trusting and stubborn too, and I think those both go along well with loyalty.  To me, being loyal is a very wonderful thing and I hope to continue to find people to whom I can be fully loyal and who find me worthy of the same.

#1 again-a rant: about dishes?

Bloody hell.  
So.  I used to like blogging.  Thought it was super fun.  Then I started to feel as though it was a chore.  I'm not sure why.  I think it was because writing had become this thing I was doing for someone else.  Who, I am not sure, because nobody has ever read what I wrote.  But the important thing is that I wasn't having fun and I thus stopped doing it.  That isn't to say I stopped writing everywhere.  Just in any sort of blog.  Oh I kept writing.  I've always wrote.  It is the best and primary method for me to communicate my emotions.  I NEED to be able to vent and rage and scream somewhere and the written word is that place.  I can do it freely and without worry of hurting anyone.  


Bloody hell.

As of late I am just... a bitch.  I'm jumpy, very easy to send into a rage, and to quote my brother "a fucking crazy, over-dramatic bitch who needs to get over herself".  Yeah, he said that today.  It is a minor part of what's got me simply bubbling with an intense anger on this lovely president's day of 2012.  Shit has just been hitting the fan.  


I shall start with the simplest, stupidest, and MOST ANNOYING thing on my list of "Things That Are Driving Mariah To Be a Bitch".  Our dishwasher is broken.  It is 100% dead.  At this point it even makes for a crappy drying rack because it is so old that the little spokes in it that are supposed to help keep dishes up are rusting and breaking off.  Yeah, buddy!  That means that we have to wash all of our dishes by hand.  

Let me just say really quickly here that I am fully aware of the fact that plenty of folks have to wash dishes by hand, that I am going off the deep end, and that I am being a whiny crazy ass infant.  Thing is, I don't care, I am allowed to go crazy sometimes and if you have a problem with it, please go die.  In  a cold ditch with a little bit of sewage at the bottom.


Ahhhh!  See that ^^^  I really am a very angry rage-filled girl.  Sheesh... 


Anyways.  A family of 8 doing their dishes by hand.  Should be rather easy.  Everyone uses their own dishes, and washes them immediately after use.  Ha.  Ha.  Hilarious.  If I wasn't so mad, I'd laugh.  Seriously.  So nobody is doing that.  Shocking.  Now, if we went ahead and set up a chore chart that had folks each having a go at the WHOLE of kitchen every week alternately, that would be annoying but totally do-able.  ANYTHING but this current system.  Cause I'm dying inside.  


They all just leave their dishes everywhere.  All over in the kitchen, living room, basement you can find some grody, crusty piece of dinner ware.  Eventually 1 of 3 people get fed up with the filth and actually do all of the dishes.  It's always either my ma, my sister, or myself.  Then as soon as whoever starts doing all of the work people suddenly start bringing forth more dishes and then hovering around in the small kitchen.  I always just holler at them to get the heck out.  I'll also usually leave the sink of hot soapy water for whomever eats next to be able to easily clean up their mess.  But no one actually does that either!  Noooo.  Cause that's just soooo hard.  Instead the family member in question does not even bother to rise their dish, but just drops it into the sink.  So even if you wanted to wash it and clean up after their lazy ass you'll end up putting your hand into the disgusting chunky water and afterward fishing the chunks out cause otherwise they clog up the sink.  FUCK THIS.  


Today just about killed me.  I swear.  Or at least, I almost killed someone.  I didn't want to wash all of the dishes.  I'd CRAZILY hoped that if I did everything else: rinsed and stacked the dishes, wiped the counters, set up the coffee, swept the floor, unloaded the dishwasher; that someone else would feel this urge come upon them to help out with the general household chorse.  Maybe even the 13 year old who was complaining about being bored?  But, nope.  Couldn't get that lucky.  So when I got the message my sick mother was coming home from doing all of the grocery shopping I just jumped on it to get it done and make her life that much easier, cause I knew she'd feel compelled to do it since no one else had.  


Bloody hell.  I yelled at Jake, when after I'd starting doing all the bloody work, he brought in a crusty cereal bowl.  I told him to just get out cause I was already doing all of the work and he just... well I already told what he said.  While it did make me feel upset, it also didn't cause I was just do angry.  There are 8 perfectly capable people in this house and yet only 3 have been trading off on this large chore.  That's pathetic. 

Oi.  So now, feeling better, if just no longer like I want to  stab one of my family members, I am listening to the Pocahontas soundtrack that I got at a thrift store a while ago.  I'd really like to watch this movie.  It was one of my favorites!  As well as The Little Mermaid, Quest for Camelot, Fox and the Hound, Aristocats, The Secret of Nymh, the Fieval (American Tail) movies, and The Lion King.  Wow, I still love those movies.  I wanna watch one rather badly, but I think I'll just listen to the soundtracks on YouTube instead.  Hahaha.  Wow.  I'm lame.