theloophole
you can't depend on your eyes when your imaginationi is out of focus. -mark twain
i never thought i could be this happy, but it's actually happening and it's amazing.
No spokes - talk to me
ok, so, i feel good, but it's like i feel bad for feeling good. there is a lot of shit going on but i'm not that stressed about it. i should be, but i'm not. i'm delightfully apathetic. is it ok just stop caring about all that stressful stuff sometimes? I think it is.
oh bye bye rut. :(
Everything was going so well. I was in a delightfully stable rut, then last week happened. I found out the my sister has MS, my uncle has cancer(stage IV) and my niece might have to have heart surgery. all of this happened after my brother said that he was leaving his girlfirend and moving back.... and it's hell week for Oedipus. gah. Not to mention that i have to deal some theater personalities that are driving me nutty. I just want to smoke a cigarette.
No spokes - talk to me
february...what a month.
Today was our first dress rehearsal from oedipus, and i was forced to strip down in front of three boys. oh theater.
goodbye 07
wow this past year has been real....interesting. i think i've learned more about myself in 2007 than in the rest of my life. although the past few years have been somewhat tragic, i've learned to comfort myself and cope in ways i never thought possible. i really like my life right now, and it's about time. let's just hope 2008 can be as exciting, less tragic and dramatic and more fufilling than 2007.
goals:
get the f out of the falls
get a job i like
maybe get a boyfriend--> correction have the right guy come along
open myself up to possibilities
be honest about my feelings
keep in touch with my long distance friends
quit smoking(maybe)
alright that's it.
peace
No spokes - talk to me
snow snow snow.
whoa... what a crazy week. drunken high binges, driving accross the country, family christmas festivities, the works. i'm exhausted. i'm so glad to see all my favorite people this time of year, it always makes me remember why i moved back to spokane. i'm pretty happy right now. let's see how long it lasts, eh?
No spokes - talk to me
short story
December
First off let me tell you that I’m not a creep. I am legitimately and ruthlessly in love, which I suppose makes just about anybody sound like a creep. Love makes you act, talk, and sound like a stalker. Everyone who has been in love has been a creep, and yet when they hear about someone else thinking about them that way, especially if the feelings are not mutual, they freak out and they think this admirer is a creep. They call all the time, the way you did with your last crush, they stare at you, the way you would get lost in your love’s gaze, and they seem to always show up in places where you least expect them, just how you just happen to be in the same odd planned places as that guy you had a crush on last year. Love turns you into a person you don’t recognize. You’re happy and tortured and anxious all at the same time, and the only thing to cure that anxiety is a stolen glance or a faint touch from the one whom you love.
After my first love, I thought it would never happen again. Realizing that someone was as crazy about me as I was about them was new. It made me feel sane, liberated. Being in love with someone and knowing that they love you is sanity and when it’s over it’s hard to regain that sanity in anything else. When it was over I felt jaded, as if nothing could ever live up to that first experience of real human emotion; I was wrong, I was just exhausted. I have only recently proven myself wrong. She moved in this August. It is now November. I never knew it could happen so fast. The more I know the more I love her.
Every time I see her, my lips go numb. I lose all control over my body like I’m under some sort of anesthesia. You know, I’m not an introvert by any means, but with her in the room I want to crawl into a hole and die, because I know I can never have her, and I’m ashamed for her to see me in comparison with herself. I’m nothing compared to her.
She’s here tonight with her asshole boyfriend that she chooses to love for an unknown reason. She walked in the room and I knew she was here before I even turned around to see her blue eyes meet mine. Her scent alone would give her away. I could hear her lips part as she broke into a smile, feel her hair sweep gently across her shoulders, feel the warmth return to her hands as she entered the toasty interior air. I lost all feeling in my extremities and my lips went numb. Someone so perfectly her could never love someone so miserably me.
Her name is June. We’ve been friends for about five years, but only recently I began to see as the wonder she is. When you live with someone you get to know all those little things about a person that you can only find out through subtle in-home observation. Like how she takes a shower at night because that’s the only way her hair can be dry by the time she needs to be somewhere; or that she has to sleep on left side of the bed; or that she takes off her shoes at the door. Details that only a roommate can really know. Those are the little things that I love about her. I don’t know how I couldn’t see it before. Maybe it was puberty clouding my vision, maybe immaturity or maybe this godliness that she is was recently acquired, but whatever the reason I know now that I must have her. I need to have her to be sane. I need to talk to her the way she should be talked to. I need to show her how she should be treated. I need to love her the way she deserves to be loved, but she could never love me. No one else can.
I watch her as she floats around the room like a dandelion seed in tall grass. Gracefully smiling and greeting our classmates with poise and silliness in perfect equilibrium, introducing Mr. Imperfect to each huddle of scholastics she passes through. Her friends around the room are happy to see her and offer her a drink, and of course she reluctantly but gracefully takes one.
She has the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. Her lips are like a baby doll’s and her eyes are the most placid, rich, blue-green ever found in the human body. Her hands and feet are perfectly proportioned and her skin is a perfect milky white set off by her opulent red curly locks of hair. She has a mole right above her lips, which are always flawlessly covered in a red toned lipstick. Beauty like hers should be illegal, or at least exclusively reserved for the magazines and the imagination. She would never have me.
She’s walking towards me now. Time to act, time to hide, time to be normal, time to be a friend. “Hello love!” she says it with such excitement and youth as she kisses me on the cheek leaving a slight mark with her lipstick and gives me a hug, leaving a lingering of her perfume on my chest. She’s on me now. Her essence has left its mark on me. She is always this excited to see me. She acts as if it’s been ages since we last spoke, when in fact it’s been days or sometimes only hours.
“Hi, I’m so glad you could make it,” I say holding back my own excitement at her presence. “And you brought Alex I see,” said with truthfully no disdain at all. I understand why she would like him. He’s tall, strapping, and seemingly decent, but he’s no me. I’ll tell you that much. “How long have you been here?” I knew the answer.
“Oh we just got here. Alex had to work late so…”
“Well are you going to stay for a while, or do you have somewhere else to be?” Come on say something interesting to keep her around.
“No, we’ll probably stay for a little while”, she leans in closer to whisper something to me, “Do you want to come outside with me? I’m dying for a smoke.”
“Oh sure. Do you need one?”
“Yes. Don’t hate me.”
“No big deal. Let’s go.”
I treasure our smoke breaks. Our time alone, away from Alex, who despises all things inhaled, when I can actually talk to her and she acts like herself instead of number one perfect girlfriend of the year.
“So, how are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day.” She lights her cigarette.
“Oh, yeah, I was at the internet café trying to focus on a paper for my philosophy class. I just can’t get anything done in our room.” We’re roommates, even though she has an apartment with her boyfriend. She keeps a room on campus because all students are required to live on campus for two years.
“You know, you’re always welcome to come over to Alex’s and do homework. He has wireless Internet.”
I couldn’t tell her that she was my main distraction. She was the reason I had to leave to do my papers. Even when she wasn’t physically there, she was all over our room. Her smell after she showers, her bed, her pictures, her… everything was there.
“I just find it easier to go somewhere that I don’t have anyone to distract me.”
“What, does Alex distract you? Is there something you want to come out and say to me?”
“Ha-ha. Very funny. No I am not interested in your boyfriend.” I am however interested in his imminent death and demise.
“We just need to find you someone. I know there is someone perfect out there for you.” She finishes her cigarette and puts it out on the bottom of her shoe. “Now, come on, let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.”
I reluctantly put out my cigarette and reentered the over-crowded college party. The house looked like a zip lock bag of people in a microwave, growing and growing, heating up ready to burst at any moment. We had been gone for ten minutes and population had doubled at least. Just like that, I lost her to the crowd and I was alone. Our time together had been and gone. She could never love me.
Since my night was basically over at that point, I decided to sneak out the back door and go home. The mile walk seemed longer than usual tonight, leaving me to my own devices, my own dangerous company. Could she ever accept me? I mean really accept me? Could she take me home and introduce me to her family as the one? Could she let herself do that or would she be ashamed of me? Would I be able to do the same for her? Maybe we are out of each other’s league in a sense. Is that even possible? Maybe all these theoretical questions will never even become practical, because of the answer to them: no.
I walk into my empty dorm, take a few sleeping pills, lie down and spin into an endless oblivion of deep rest until tomorrow afternoon.
January
It’s 3pm. If I am any type of a respectable human being I will roll out of bed. I am not a respectable human being but I roll out of bed anyway. It’s cloudy and raining outside. I walk into the kitchen and grab a beer and make myself an Easy Mac, breakfast of champions. I think today, I will not leave the room. I have no reason to. I have no desire to. My decision has been made. I think I’ll catch up on my trashy TV on DVD sets that I have neglected the past few hectic weeks.
Tomorrow is Monday. I have class. I should study, or at least seriously consider it, but today feels like a stay at home, smoke a pack, sit on the couch, and watch DVD’s kind of a day. Sorry better judgment but laziness, self pity and the universe win.
I went back to bed at nine after watching season one of Entourage all day. I know this makes me seem like a mentally unstable individual, but today was perfect. It was raining. It’s winter. My consolation and comfort is found in my blanket and bed. As I lay down I can feel my body’s cold and discomfort being absorbed by the poly-fill cloche draped over me.
I awake to the sound of a door slamming. June must be home. That’s weird. It’s only 10AM. She yells for me. I answer groggily. She’s crying. She’s a beautiful mess of tears, mascara, ratted hair, and stale perfume. I ask, “What’s wrong Juney?”
“Alex broke up with me. We had a fight after you left”
“Oh? What about?”
“You.”
“What about me?”
“That isn’t important. I’m just tired of him treating me like crap all of the time and expecting me to play along with it, and I couldn’t stand what he was saying about you.”
“ummm. Ok?”
“He actually thinks you’re in love me. How ridiculous is that?”
“Very.”
“Everyone knows we’re like best friends.”
“Yeah,” and that’s all we’ll ever be. I tried not to let my face show the disappointment and heartbreak I was feeling at that moment. All suspicions had been confirmed; I had entered the friend category long ago, and there was nope hope for exile.
February
I hate February. Thank God it’s the shortest month. The whole damn month revolves around the 14th; singles awareness day; love is dead day; kiss me, I’m an idiot with no personality day. I hate Valentines Day. To me, it’s just a reminder that I don’t have love in my life. Beginning in the 1st grade, when the teacher made us make a Valentine reciprocal of our choosing. I chose a mailbox. I got one Valentine. One. It was from the weird kid that sat by himself, because both of his parents were heavy indoor smokers and he smelled so bad that no one wanted to sit by him. That was just the beginning in a long string of disappointments. So, I’ve given the holiday up. I have never been involved with someone on Valentine’s Day, and the way it’s looking right now, this year won’t be any different.
Maybe I’m just being pessimistic. Maybe I’ll look back on these words and laugh someday, but the likelihood of that happening is slim, considering the fact that I would probably have to fall in love with my soul mate, reciprocated mind you, in order for my feelings about this to change. Class in 15. Shit.
I just got back from philosophy class. We were discussing the person’s need to be loved. Since we are all created by God’s overflowing love, we are a product of love. So, love is in our nature. The need to be loved is innate, intrinsic. Sex for man is the embodying act of romantic love. It’s the most personal gift of self that one can give to another. That’s why we are only supposed to have sex in the context of love, and you are only supposed to love your soul mate in that way.
If everyone has one soul mate, then what happens when your soul mate passes you by? What if we have one chance at love, and if it passes, that’s it? Are you doomed to be unhappy or less than euphoric in all other relationships that follow? And how does one judge soul mate feelings against chemical reactions in the brain caused by physical and mental attraction? You can be attracted to several people; you can date several people; you can sleep with even more; you can even love several people; but is there only one person in this existence whom you are completely and totally created for or is there always someone out there who would make you more happy than you presently are in your situation? If we are created by God to complete another person, then can gay people have soul mates? Would God do that? Would God create people gay if being gay is supposedly a sin? It makes you think about how fucked up fate can be.
I always would think about that during church; about the people that seem to be born outside of God’s plan. Gay people, the transgendered, retarded people, autistics, the impoverished, sociopaths; how do they fit in? And did God know that they were coming? And how are their souls affected by these “defects” with which they were born; which they have without choice. Is it really a sin if you can’t choose it or control it?
If the body is it’s own substance as is the soul, are these conditions solely part of the body or do they transcend the physical into the soul? When a person dies the body and the soul separate and the person no longer exists, So if the conditions of this world aren’t retained in the soul they get left behind too, right? People with amputated limbs aren’t in wheelchairs in heaven. Burn victims aren’t covered in scorched skin. Our souls aren’t like that. So, wouldn’t things like the conditions I said earlier be left behind with the body? Am I going to hell for wanting to be with June?
I guess now I think about this stuff at home instead of at church, and I still don’t know the answers to these questions. I hope I find out when I die. I hope I’m allowed to ask God twenty questions of my choosing; like truth or dare with God. I bet that’s where things like ghosts and déjà vu come from. Somebody dares God to mess with someone, and he, of course, can’t go back on his word, but that’s just a theory.
End of philosophy rant. I need to turn off my mind. I haven’t slept more than four hours a night for weeks. It’s hard to turn your mind off when it’s been running all day in full activity. Well, here’s to trying with the help of Tylenol PM.
Ten hours later and I finally feel rested. I woke up to June receiving flowers at the door from an obnoxiously loud deliveryman. Guess who they were from. If you guessed Alex you win ten obvious points for the day. He’s snaked his way back into June’s life just in time for doom’s day 07. He bought her flowers and he rented a limo. Perfect he’ll just buy his way back into her heart. If there is one thing that he has and I don’t, it’s money. I guess it’s her own fault for letting him buy her affection. I’ve given up on her. Well, not given up completely. I’m still in love with her, but I’ve given up hope that anything will come from it.
I have to keep myself silent; Snuff my passion out.
March
It’s my birthday. My friends threw me a party earlier today with cake and ice cream and everything. June bought me a journal. It’s really nice. She’s kind of an artist and she embellished it and put photos in it. I love it. I think it might be the best gift I’ve ever gotten.
You know, it’s amazing how you can like someone for so long and you talk yourself out of it, because you think it’ll never happen. It’s just at that moment that you realize that they might actually feel the same way and anything you had ever felt for that person comes streaming back into your mind. Hope returns unfortunately.
April
I did it. I told someone about my feelings for June. I have a feeling we aren’t friends anymore. You know, everyone always says that they want to know the truth, but they don’t. Alex asked me. He’s been asking me. He said he wanted the truth, but now the truth has just ruined everything. June is moving out, because she’s awkward with me now. She called me a freak. Alex had some other choice words for me.
Most of our generation wants to think that they are open minded and accepting of gay people but they aren’t. When it comes down to it, we’re all freaks, or they’re fine with it until they find out their roommate and best friend is a “dyke” (I think that was the word she used). It’s as if everything we have ever shared is a lie to her now. It wasn’t a lie. I love her as a friend just as much as I do in every other way. Why can’t she understand that?
I have forgiven her of so many things. When I found out last year that she was doing coke, I didn’t think we were a lie, I helped her get off of it. When she ditched me to be with Alex, multiple times, I was understanding. But I am in love with her and some how that is the unforgivable crime. What kind of a world do we live in, when killing yourself with drugs is absolvable misdemeanor but love is a felony?
May
She left today.
She’s gone.
This is the worst punishment; Fucking solitary confinement.
I thought I would be happy, because the last month has been hell. Knowing that she’s disgusted with me every time she walks through the door; knowing that she would rather be anywhere else than be talking to me in our room. It’s so empty in here now. The personality of the dorm has changed. It’s no longer the melding of two completely different people into one harmonious ambience. It’s just dead space. It’s like looking at a dead body. It looks incomplete without its soul. It’s still the same bones and parts, but completely lacking any real substance or personality. That’s my room now; a cadaver lying on the slab at the morgue; devoid of itself.
Fortunately, we still have classes together so I see her regularly. I see her at parties; at church; in the halls. I just feel naked. Like everyone knows my dirty little secret. I’m a lesbian. I mean I think I am. I’m in love with another woman. That makes me a lesbian doesn’t it? I think it does. I mean honestly I’m ok with that, and I’m not ashamed for people to know that. The only thing I’m ashamed of is that people who I used to be associated with have to look at themselves in the mirror everyday after the way they have treated me. I’m ashamed of them.
June
It’s the first day of June, and ironically the first day of my June-free existence. As I lie here halfway under my blanket, I think back to December when I clung to my covers so tightly, completely dependant on them for warmth and now I don’t need them at all. They are there purely for aesthetic and comfort purposes. It’s amazing how something or someone can seem so important and necessary at one point then completely ornamental later.
I don’t love her anymore. I saw more of her over the last few months that I didn’t see before, ugliness unmatched even by her disgusting human being of a boyfriend. I guess they deserve each other. Maybe I always knew that. I was just blinded by my feelings for her. I don’t know if I would even call it love. It was more like infatuation, really. I mean, can you really experience love if it’s one sided?
More and more I’m beginning to think that love was just invented in storybooks and movies. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. We as human beings are supposedly the only creatures capable of real true romantic love; and we are considered the intelligent amongst God’s creations. Love doesn’t make any real practical sense. Most people who have it only hold on two for a few good years, the lucky ones a few more. So, why is it so important to us? Why is it the ultimate goal for human beings? Why is the greatest thing we’ll ever learn: just to love and be loved in return?
In the scheme of things, it doesn’t seem high on the priority list of life. The most important thing is to survive isn’t it? Then after that, personal fulfillment, then love. It seems like people aren’t even capable of thinking about love until those things are in order. Most people these days won’t even consider marriage until they have graduated college or have a steady job and have their lives in order. All relationships before the consideration of marriage are just silly and fleeting and just for the company and the sex, so why this absurd fascination with love?
Yes, love feels great when you think you have it. Yes, you can’t sleep or eat, but you don’t care. Yes, it feels like you are in the center of an emotional tornado and you feel like no matter what, no one can take your love away from you. But what happens when it ends, which it, more likely than not, will? Then you have nothing. When your love is everything, you have nothing when it’s over, except residual feelings and they too will eventually flee.
Science says that love is a series of chemical reactions in the brain. Love is evolution’s way of getting humans to reproduce and stay together; because honestly without the feelings of lust, love and eventually attachment, and we, being intelligent, free thinking beings, who in their right mind would have children? If not for this love, who would knowingly sacrifice the pain and suffering of childbirth and raising those children?
No one would.
That’s why we enjoy sex I think, too. Since we are self-moving, free-thinking, choice-making beings, if not for the pleasure of sex, why would we ever engage in such an act?
Now there are several ways to look at this. One could look at this and think, well God knows us so well as his creation, and so he designed us this way, or evolution designed us this way, because only those who enjoyed sex and were capable of love reproduced. Either way, it seems that love is nothing but a bodily reaction to our own intelligence; a reaction to the unintelligible emptiness that is sex without love or pleasure; and this life long passionate happily ever after story book ending love, is just that, for the story books.
And yet, here I am, sitting in my room, wishing that I could spend just one more moment in the presence of June. Love with no hope or return is just insanity, and I can’t live being this insane anymore.
As far as I can tell I have two choices. One: fall in love with someone else. Two: end it right here and now. The advantages of falling in love with someone else are clear, but near impossible to achieve. Of course, I would then not think about June, be alive, and probably be happy even. Then again I would have to go through a strenuous period of time looking for this someone to fall in love with, and I would have to be sure that they would love me back, and so many other qualifications. That might never even happen. So, fuck it. Choice two it is.
July
I never thought it would end this way. I always thought I would die a glamorous death. Like, I died pushing someone out of the way of an oncoming bus, or in a plane crash or murdered, not a run-of-the-mill balcony jumping suicide. The least they could have done was found out why I killed myself. I left a note.
Dear…you,
I can’t logically explain what possessed me to do this. All I can say is love with no hope or return is just insanity, and I can’t live being this insane anymore. To whom this concerns, you know who you are. You ruined my vision of what love was, and a life without love, in the end, doesn’t really seem worth living. I wish it could’ve been different, but it wasn’t. Was it? I wish you could’ve said anything to me other than what you said, but you didn’t. did you? All I ever wanted was to make you happy. I hope this brings you one step closer to happiness.
Your friend,
Allison Alicia Aimes.
More people came to my funeral than I expected. I partially think their presence was guilt driven. Or maybe somewhere in their egocentric minds they thought they had some thing to do with my death. Maybe they wondered if that one time they had called me a capret cleaner or a dyke or a lesbo really made a difference. Well, I hate to ruin their self-inflicted punishment, but it had nothing to do with it. The only time those words hurt were when they came from the perfect baby doll lips neighbored by her perfect beauty mark belonging to my beloved.
My mother was there. She was angry. My father was there. He was confused. My perish priest. He was still trying to swallow what had taken place. She was there. She felt guilty. She still didn’t love me, and she never did, but she wished she could have. In the same way I couldn’t stop loving her, she couldn’t just start loving me. Love is not a volunteer act. Love is not a choice. You can’t choose who you love. you can to choose to love, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
Love has so many meanings. English speakers have only one word for love. in Greek, they have over thrity. If you look up love in the dictionary this is what you find.
love n
1. an intense feeling of tender affection and compassion
2. a passionate feeling of romantic desire and sexual attraction
3. somebody who is loved romantically
4. a romantic affair, possibly sexual
5. strong liking for or pleasure gained from something
6. something that elicits deep interest and enthusiasm in somebody
7. used as an affectionate word to somebody loved
8. U.K. used as a friendly term of address, usually to a woman (informal)
9. the mercy, grace, and charity shown by God to humanity
10. the worship and adoration of God
11. a score of zero in sports and games, for example, tennis, squash, and whist
v
1. vti to feel tender affection for somebody, for example, a close relative or friend, or for something such as a place, an ideal, or an animal
2. vti to feel romantic and sexual desire and longing for somebody
3. vt to like something or like doing something very much
4. vt to feel and show kindness and charity to somebody
5. vt to have sexual intercourse with somebody (dated)
With such vast meaning and understanding it’s hard to know when to call something love, or when you should make love, or fall in love, of be loved. The most important thing is that you leave yourself open to the possibility, the opportunity, the privilege of love.
First off let me tell you that I’m not a creep. I am legitimately and ruthlessly in love, which I suppose makes just about anybody sound like a creep. Love makes you act, talk, and sound like a stalker. Everyone who has been in love has been a creep, and yet when they hear about someone else thinking about them that way, especially if the feelings are not mutual, they freak out and they think this admirer is a creep. They call all the time, the way you did with your last crush, they stare at you, the way you would get lost in your love’s gaze, and they seem to always show up in places where you least expect them, just how you just happen to be in the same odd planned places as that guy you had a crush on last year. Love turns you into a person you don’t recognize. You’re happy and tortured and anxious all at the same time, and the only thing to cure that anxiety is a stolen glance or a faint touch from the one whom you love.
After my first love, I thought it would never happen again. Realizing that someone was as crazy about me as I was about them was new. It made me feel sane, liberated. Being in love with someone and knowing that they love you is sanity and when it’s over it’s hard to regain that sanity in anything else. When it was over I felt jaded, as if nothing could ever live up to that first experience of real human emotion; I was wrong, I was just exhausted. I have only recently proven myself wrong. She moved in this August. It is now November. I never knew it could happen so fast. The more I know the more I love her.
Every time I see her, my lips go numb. I lose all control over my body like I’m under some sort of anesthesia. You know, I’m not an introvert by any means, but with her in the room I want to crawl into a hole and die, because I know I can never have her, and I’m ashamed for her to see me in comparison with herself. I’m nothing compared to her.
She’s here tonight with her asshole boyfriend that she chooses to love for an unknown reason. She walked in the room and I knew she was here before I even turned around to see her blue eyes meet mine. Her scent alone would give her away. I could hear her lips part as she broke into a smile, feel her hair sweep gently across her shoulders, feel the warmth return to her hands as she entered the toasty interior air. I lost all feeling in my extremities and my lips went numb. Someone so perfectly her could never love someone so miserably me.
Her name is June. We’ve been friends for about five years, but only recently I began to see as the wonder she is. When you live with someone you get to know all those little things about a person that you can only find out through subtle in-home observation. Like how she takes a shower at night because that’s the only way her hair can be dry by the time she needs to be somewhere; or that she has to sleep on left side of the bed; or that she takes off her shoes at the door. Details that only a roommate can really know. Those are the little things that I love about her. I don’t know how I couldn’t see it before. Maybe it was puberty clouding my vision, maybe immaturity or maybe this godliness that she is was recently acquired, but whatever the reason I know now that I must have her. I need to have her to be sane. I need to talk to her the way she should be talked to. I need to show her how she should be treated. I need to love her the way she deserves to be loved, but she could never love me. No one else can.
I watch her as she floats around the room like a dandelion seed in tall grass. Gracefully smiling and greeting our classmates with poise and silliness in perfect equilibrium, introducing Mr. Imperfect to each huddle of scholastics she passes through. Her friends around the room are happy to see her and offer her a drink, and of course she reluctantly but gracefully takes one.
She has the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. Her lips are like a baby doll’s and her eyes are the most placid, rich, blue-green ever found in the human body. Her hands and feet are perfectly proportioned and her skin is a perfect milky white set off by her opulent red curly locks of hair. She has a mole right above her lips, which are always flawlessly covered in a red toned lipstick. Beauty like hers should be illegal, or at least exclusively reserved for the magazines and the imagination. She would never have me.
She’s walking towards me now. Time to act, time to hide, time to be normal, time to be a friend. “Hello love!” she says it with such excitement and youth as she kisses me on the cheek leaving a slight mark with her lipstick and gives me a hug, leaving a lingering of her perfume on my chest. She’s on me now. Her essence has left its mark on me. She is always this excited to see me. She acts as if it’s been ages since we last spoke, when in fact it’s been days or sometimes only hours.
“Hi, I’m so glad you could make it,” I say holding back my own excitement at her presence. “And you brought Alex I see,” said with truthfully no disdain at all. I understand why she would like him. He’s tall, strapping, and seemingly decent, but he’s no me. I’ll tell you that much. “How long have you been here?” I knew the answer.
“Oh we just got here. Alex had to work late so…”
“Well are you going to stay for a while, or do you have somewhere else to be?” Come on say something interesting to keep her around.
“No, we’ll probably stay for a little while”, she leans in closer to whisper something to me, “Do you want to come outside with me? I’m dying for a smoke.”
“Oh sure. Do you need one?”
“Yes. Don’t hate me.”
“No big deal. Let’s go.”
I treasure our smoke breaks. Our time alone, away from Alex, who despises all things inhaled, when I can actually talk to her and she acts like herself instead of number one perfect girlfriend of the year.
“So, how are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day.” She lights her cigarette.
“Oh, yeah, I was at the internet café trying to focus on a paper for my philosophy class. I just can’t get anything done in our room.” We’re roommates, even though she has an apartment with her boyfriend. She keeps a room on campus because all students are required to live on campus for two years.
“You know, you’re always welcome to come over to Alex’s and do homework. He has wireless Internet.”
I couldn’t tell her that she was my main distraction. She was the reason I had to leave to do my papers. Even when she wasn’t physically there, she was all over our room. Her smell after she showers, her bed, her pictures, her… everything was there.
“I just find it easier to go somewhere that I don’t have anyone to distract me.”
“What, does Alex distract you? Is there something you want to come out and say to me?”
“Ha-ha. Very funny. No I am not interested in your boyfriend.” I am however interested in his imminent death and demise.
“We just need to find you someone. I know there is someone perfect out there for you.” She finishes her cigarette and puts it out on the bottom of her shoe. “Now, come on, let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.”
I reluctantly put out my cigarette and reentered the over-crowded college party. The house looked like a zip lock bag of people in a microwave, growing and growing, heating up ready to burst at any moment. We had been gone for ten minutes and population had doubled at least. Just like that, I lost her to the crowd and I was alone. Our time together had been and gone. She could never love me.
Since my night was basically over at that point, I decided to sneak out the back door and go home. The mile walk seemed longer than usual tonight, leaving me to my own devices, my own dangerous company. Could she ever accept me? I mean really accept me? Could she take me home and introduce me to her family as the one? Could she let herself do that or would she be ashamed of me? Would I be able to do the same for her? Maybe we are out of each other’s league in a sense. Is that even possible? Maybe all these theoretical questions will never even become practical, because of the answer to them: no.
I walk into my empty dorm, take a few sleeping pills, lie down and spin into an endless oblivion of deep rest until tomorrow afternoon.
January
It’s 3pm. If I am any type of a respectable human being I will roll out of bed. I am not a respectable human being but I roll out of bed anyway. It’s cloudy and raining outside. I walk into the kitchen and grab a beer and make myself an Easy Mac, breakfast of champions. I think today, I will not leave the room. I have no reason to. I have no desire to. My decision has been made. I think I’ll catch up on my trashy TV on DVD sets that I have neglected the past few hectic weeks.
Tomorrow is Monday. I have class. I should study, or at least seriously consider it, but today feels like a stay at home, smoke a pack, sit on the couch, and watch DVD’s kind of a day. Sorry better judgment but laziness, self pity and the universe win.
I went back to bed at nine after watching season one of Entourage all day. I know this makes me seem like a mentally unstable individual, but today was perfect. It was raining. It’s winter. My consolation and comfort is found in my blanket and bed. As I lay down I can feel my body’s cold and discomfort being absorbed by the poly-fill cloche draped over me.
I awake to the sound of a door slamming. June must be home. That’s weird. It’s only 10AM. She yells for me. I answer groggily. She’s crying. She’s a beautiful mess of tears, mascara, ratted hair, and stale perfume. I ask, “What’s wrong Juney?”
“Alex broke up with me. We had a fight after you left”
“Oh? What about?”
“You.”
“What about me?”
“That isn’t important. I’m just tired of him treating me like crap all of the time and expecting me to play along with it, and I couldn’t stand what he was saying about you.”
“ummm. Ok?”
“He actually thinks you’re in love me. How ridiculous is that?”
“Very.”
“Everyone knows we’re like best friends.”
“Yeah,” and that’s all we’ll ever be. I tried not to let my face show the disappointment and heartbreak I was feeling at that moment. All suspicions had been confirmed; I had entered the friend category long ago, and there was nope hope for exile.
February
I hate February. Thank God it’s the shortest month. The whole damn month revolves around the 14th; singles awareness day; love is dead day; kiss me, I’m an idiot with no personality day. I hate Valentines Day. To me, it’s just a reminder that I don’t have love in my life. Beginning in the 1st grade, when the teacher made us make a Valentine reciprocal of our choosing. I chose a mailbox. I got one Valentine. One. It was from the weird kid that sat by himself, because both of his parents were heavy indoor smokers and he smelled so bad that no one wanted to sit by him. That was just the beginning in a long string of disappointments. So, I’ve given the holiday up. I have never been involved with someone on Valentine’s Day, and the way it’s looking right now, this year won’t be any different.
Maybe I’m just being pessimistic. Maybe I’ll look back on these words and laugh someday, but the likelihood of that happening is slim, considering the fact that I would probably have to fall in love with my soul mate, reciprocated mind you, in order for my feelings about this to change. Class in 15. Shit.
I just got back from philosophy class. We were discussing the person’s need to be loved. Since we are all created by God’s overflowing love, we are a product of love. So, love is in our nature. The need to be loved is innate, intrinsic. Sex for man is the embodying act of romantic love. It’s the most personal gift of self that one can give to another. That’s why we are only supposed to have sex in the context of love, and you are only supposed to love your soul mate in that way.
If everyone has one soul mate, then what happens when your soul mate passes you by? What if we have one chance at love, and if it passes, that’s it? Are you doomed to be unhappy or less than euphoric in all other relationships that follow? And how does one judge soul mate feelings against chemical reactions in the brain caused by physical and mental attraction? You can be attracted to several people; you can date several people; you can sleep with even more; you can even love several people; but is there only one person in this existence whom you are completely and totally created for or is there always someone out there who would make you more happy than you presently are in your situation? If we are created by God to complete another person, then can gay people have soul mates? Would God do that? Would God create people gay if being gay is supposedly a sin? It makes you think about how fucked up fate can be.
I always would think about that during church; about the people that seem to be born outside of God’s plan. Gay people, the transgendered, retarded people, autistics, the impoverished, sociopaths; how do they fit in? And did God know that they were coming? And how are their souls affected by these “defects” with which they were born; which they have without choice. Is it really a sin if you can’t choose it or control it?
If the body is it’s own substance as is the soul, are these conditions solely part of the body or do they transcend the physical into the soul? When a person dies the body and the soul separate and the person no longer exists, So if the conditions of this world aren’t retained in the soul they get left behind too, right? People with amputated limbs aren’t in wheelchairs in heaven. Burn victims aren’t covered in scorched skin. Our souls aren’t like that. So, wouldn’t things like the conditions I said earlier be left behind with the body? Am I going to hell for wanting to be with June?
I guess now I think about this stuff at home instead of at church, and I still don’t know the answers to these questions. I hope I find out when I die. I hope I’m allowed to ask God twenty questions of my choosing; like truth or dare with God. I bet that’s where things like ghosts and déjà vu come from. Somebody dares God to mess with someone, and he, of course, can’t go back on his word, but that’s just a theory.
End of philosophy rant. I need to turn off my mind. I haven’t slept more than four hours a night for weeks. It’s hard to turn your mind off when it’s been running all day in full activity. Well, here’s to trying with the help of Tylenol PM.
Ten hours later and I finally feel rested. I woke up to June receiving flowers at the door from an obnoxiously loud deliveryman. Guess who they were from. If you guessed Alex you win ten obvious points for the day. He’s snaked his way back into June’s life just in time for doom’s day 07. He bought her flowers and he rented a limo. Perfect he’ll just buy his way back into her heart. If there is one thing that he has and I don’t, it’s money. I guess it’s her own fault for letting him buy her affection. I’ve given up on her. Well, not given up completely. I’m still in love with her, but I’ve given up hope that anything will come from it.
I have to keep myself silent; Snuff my passion out.
March
It’s my birthday. My friends threw me a party earlier today with cake and ice cream and everything. June bought me a journal. It’s really nice. She’s kind of an artist and she embellished it and put photos in it. I love it. I think it might be the best gift I’ve ever gotten.
You know, it’s amazing how you can like someone for so long and you talk yourself out of it, because you think it’ll never happen. It’s just at that moment that you realize that they might actually feel the same way and anything you had ever felt for that person comes streaming back into your mind. Hope returns unfortunately.
April
I did it. I told someone about my feelings for June. I have a feeling we aren’t friends anymore. You know, everyone always says that they want to know the truth, but they don’t. Alex asked me. He’s been asking me. He said he wanted the truth, but now the truth has just ruined everything. June is moving out, because she’s awkward with me now. She called me a freak. Alex had some other choice words for me.
Most of our generation wants to think that they are open minded and accepting of gay people but they aren’t. When it comes down to it, we’re all freaks, or they’re fine with it until they find out their roommate and best friend is a “dyke” (I think that was the word she used). It’s as if everything we have ever shared is a lie to her now. It wasn’t a lie. I love her as a friend just as much as I do in every other way. Why can’t she understand that?
I have forgiven her of so many things. When I found out last year that she was doing coke, I didn’t think we were a lie, I helped her get off of it. When she ditched me to be with Alex, multiple times, I was understanding. But I am in love with her and some how that is the unforgivable crime. What kind of a world do we live in, when killing yourself with drugs is absolvable misdemeanor but love is a felony?
May
She left today.
She’s gone.
This is the worst punishment; Fucking solitary confinement.
I thought I would be happy, because the last month has been hell. Knowing that she’s disgusted with me every time she walks through the door; knowing that she would rather be anywhere else than be talking to me in our room. It’s so empty in here now. The personality of the dorm has changed. It’s no longer the melding of two completely different people into one harmonious ambience. It’s just dead space. It’s like looking at a dead body. It looks incomplete without its soul. It’s still the same bones and parts, but completely lacking any real substance or personality. That’s my room now; a cadaver lying on the slab at the morgue; devoid of itself.
Fortunately, we still have classes together so I see her regularly. I see her at parties; at church; in the halls. I just feel naked. Like everyone knows my dirty little secret. I’m a lesbian. I mean I think I am. I’m in love with another woman. That makes me a lesbian doesn’t it? I think it does. I mean honestly I’m ok with that, and I’m not ashamed for people to know that. The only thing I’m ashamed of is that people who I used to be associated with have to look at themselves in the mirror everyday after the way they have treated me. I’m ashamed of them.
June
It’s the first day of June, and ironically the first day of my June-free existence. As I lie here halfway under my blanket, I think back to December when I clung to my covers so tightly, completely dependant on them for warmth and now I don’t need them at all. They are there purely for aesthetic and comfort purposes. It’s amazing how something or someone can seem so important and necessary at one point then completely ornamental later.
I don’t love her anymore. I saw more of her over the last few months that I didn’t see before, ugliness unmatched even by her disgusting human being of a boyfriend. I guess they deserve each other. Maybe I always knew that. I was just blinded by my feelings for her. I don’t know if I would even call it love. It was more like infatuation, really. I mean, can you really experience love if it’s one sided?
More and more I’m beginning to think that love was just invented in storybooks and movies. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. We as human beings are supposedly the only creatures capable of real true romantic love; and we are considered the intelligent amongst God’s creations. Love doesn’t make any real practical sense. Most people who have it only hold on two for a few good years, the lucky ones a few more. So, why is it so important to us? Why is it the ultimate goal for human beings? Why is the greatest thing we’ll ever learn: just to love and be loved in return?
In the scheme of things, it doesn’t seem high on the priority list of life. The most important thing is to survive isn’t it? Then after that, personal fulfillment, then love. It seems like people aren’t even capable of thinking about love until those things are in order. Most people these days won’t even consider marriage until they have graduated college or have a steady job and have their lives in order. All relationships before the consideration of marriage are just silly and fleeting and just for the company and the sex, so why this absurd fascination with love?
Yes, love feels great when you think you have it. Yes, you can’t sleep or eat, but you don’t care. Yes, it feels like you are in the center of an emotional tornado and you feel like no matter what, no one can take your love away from you. But what happens when it ends, which it, more likely than not, will? Then you have nothing. When your love is everything, you have nothing when it’s over, except residual feelings and they too will eventually flee.
Science says that love is a series of chemical reactions in the brain. Love is evolution’s way of getting humans to reproduce and stay together; because honestly without the feelings of lust, love and eventually attachment, and we, being intelligent, free thinking beings, who in their right mind would have children? If not for this love, who would knowingly sacrifice the pain and suffering of childbirth and raising those children?
No one would.
That’s why we enjoy sex I think, too. Since we are self-moving, free-thinking, choice-making beings, if not for the pleasure of sex, why would we ever engage in such an act?
Now there are several ways to look at this. One could look at this and think, well God knows us so well as his creation, and so he designed us this way, or evolution designed us this way, because only those who enjoyed sex and were capable of love reproduced. Either way, it seems that love is nothing but a bodily reaction to our own intelligence; a reaction to the unintelligible emptiness that is sex without love or pleasure; and this life long passionate happily ever after story book ending love, is just that, for the story books.
And yet, here I am, sitting in my room, wishing that I could spend just one more moment in the presence of June. Love with no hope or return is just insanity, and I can’t live being this insane anymore.
As far as I can tell I have two choices. One: fall in love with someone else. Two: end it right here and now. The advantages of falling in love with someone else are clear, but near impossible to achieve. Of course, I would then not think about June, be alive, and probably be happy even. Then again I would have to go through a strenuous period of time looking for this someone to fall in love with, and I would have to be sure that they would love me back, and so many other qualifications. That might never even happen. So, fuck it. Choice two it is.
July
I never thought it would end this way. I always thought I would die a glamorous death. Like, I died pushing someone out of the way of an oncoming bus, or in a plane crash or murdered, not a run-of-the-mill balcony jumping suicide. The least they could have done was found out why I killed myself. I left a note.
Dear…you,
I can’t logically explain what possessed me to do this. All I can say is love with no hope or return is just insanity, and I can’t live being this insane anymore. To whom this concerns, you know who you are. You ruined my vision of what love was, and a life without love, in the end, doesn’t really seem worth living. I wish it could’ve been different, but it wasn’t. Was it? I wish you could’ve said anything to me other than what you said, but you didn’t. did you? All I ever wanted was to make you happy. I hope this brings you one step closer to happiness.
Your friend,
Allison Alicia Aimes.
More people came to my funeral than I expected. I partially think their presence was guilt driven. Or maybe somewhere in their egocentric minds they thought they had some thing to do with my death. Maybe they wondered if that one time they had called me a capret cleaner or a dyke or a lesbo really made a difference. Well, I hate to ruin their self-inflicted punishment, but it had nothing to do with it. The only time those words hurt were when they came from the perfect baby doll lips neighbored by her perfect beauty mark belonging to my beloved.
My mother was there. She was angry. My father was there. He was confused. My perish priest. He was still trying to swallow what had taken place. She was there. She felt guilty. She still didn’t love me, and she never did, but she wished she could have. In the same way I couldn’t stop loving her, she couldn’t just start loving me. Love is not a volunteer act. Love is not a choice. You can’t choose who you love. you can to choose to love, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
Love has so many meanings. English speakers have only one word for love. in Greek, they have over thrity. If you look up love in the dictionary this is what you find.
love n
1. an intense feeling of tender affection and compassion
2. a passionate feeling of romantic desire and sexual attraction
3. somebody who is loved romantically
4. a romantic affair, possibly sexual
5. strong liking for or pleasure gained from something
6. something that elicits deep interest and enthusiasm in somebody
7. used as an affectionate word to somebody loved
8. U.K. used as a friendly term of address, usually to a woman (informal)
9. the mercy, grace, and charity shown by God to humanity
10. the worship and adoration of God
11. a score of zero in sports and games, for example, tennis, squash, and whist
v
1. vti to feel tender affection for somebody, for example, a close relative or friend, or for something such as a place, an ideal, or an animal
2. vti to feel romantic and sexual desire and longing for somebody
3. vt to like something or like doing something very much
4. vt to feel and show kindness and charity to somebody
5. vt to have sexual intercourse with somebody (dated)
With such vast meaning and understanding it’s hard to know when to call something love, or when you should make love, or fall in love, of be loved. The most important thing is that you leave yourself open to the possibility, the opportunity, the privilege of love.
No spokes - talk to me
oh man
I'm moving out...that's exciting. so why do I feel ill? there are so many things that i'm feeling so uncomfortable in my life. all of my friends are pairing off, and i am never going to find anyone that i want to settle down with. am i too picky? or do they all suck? am i a bitch? or are they all jerks? why should i even have to ask myself these questions? ugh i hate this. i can't wait until i find myself a guy who likes me who I actually like. i want stability, i need it actually. i want to love someone the way they deserve to be loved, and i want the same. i don't want anymore of this commitment-phobe bullshit i've been doing for the past year and a half. i'm done with it.
rant2: why the hell do people think it;s ok to totally attack people's religious beliefs. i don't harass them why do they have to harass me? I'm a pretty tolerant accepting person, i just wish some people could return the favor. man i wish i could be happy right now, because i think i should be.
rant2: why the hell do people think it;s ok to totally attack people's religious beliefs. i don't harass them why do they have to harass me? I'm a pretty tolerant accepting person, i just wish some people could return the favor. man i wish i could be happy right now, because i think i should be.
No spokes - talk to me
so i'm f-ing really excited about coming home. i talked to joe last night for a few hours about the band that we are going to start when i get back, and i'm just feeling really good about it... and i'm so excited. the name of the band is ...are you ready? working with dolphins. hahaha. I can hardly wait to see all my friends...ugh i'm so excited.
facebook...best new app... honesty box. apparently, I am intimidating and people can't say things to my face, even nice things. these are the messages i've recieved thus far:
I envy you. I can't explain why, but I do."
"youre a dirty man steeler!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"i wish we talked more."
"You're beautiful the way God made you, you don't need to hide yourself behind hair dye, piercings, makeup and jewelry... no one can see how beautiful you really are if you're hidden underneath all that... I always wanted to tell you that..."
"Very original"
now the man steeler one was a joke. but i don't understand these comments. why would anyone envy me? and I don't hide under makeup, i show my personality through my hair and peircings and makeup... i dunno. it's just interesting to see what people think of you, actually.
So, it's been a while, eh? Well shit's been weird. My parents just came down for the past week. That was cool. It was good to see them. Is it weird that I feel angsty because I have nothing to feel angsty about. It's like the calm before them storm. I feel like I know that there's this impending doom right around the metaphorical corner ya know. I guess that's called romance. I hate being in a state of not knowing right now, but at the same time the suspense is almost enjoyable, like I never know what is going to happen. As Gwendolyn would say, "This suspense is terrible, I do hope it will last.”
today was one of those days where i wished i had never left the room. for some reason i decided to subject myself to hanging out with clint, even though i still like him and i know that whenever i hang out with him it all comes back...i'm a masachist(however the hell that's spelled)
new years shiznit
personal year 1. What did you do in 2006 that you'd never done before?
I ummm went snorkling...?
2. Did you keep your New Years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Oh I don't new resolutions...I think it curses your good intentions.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
well the nunezes but i wouldn't say they are close to me.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
yes
5. What countries did you visit?
I went to canada...but that's about it.
6. What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006?
I would like a ticket to europe that follows through, and a passport.
7. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
hmmmm...I finished my first year of college...that's an accomplishment.
8. What was your biggest failure?
my whole love life...hahahaha
9. Did you suffer illness or injury?
well yes of course. i cut my hand open trying to open the damn middle doors do the dorm.
10. What was the best thing you bought?
jeans...i went on a spree i would say.
11. Where did most of your money go?
clothing, food, movie, and cigarettes
12. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
going to ireland, even if it fell through.
13. What song will always remind you of 2006?
Everytime we touch-cascade, Dusk and Summer- Dashboard, and Hate (I really dont like you)-plain white t's all of these from dom + check on it, anything damien rice, hey there delilah, suicide medicine, corinne baily ray
14. Compared to this time last year, are you:
ii. thinner or fatter? about the same
iii. richer or poorer? about thesame
15. What do you wish you'd done more of?
working out, having alone time.
16. What do you wish you'd done less of?
drinking, smoking, boys
17. How did you spend Christmas?
with the family
18. Did you fall in love in 2006?
hmmm that's a difficult question.
19. How many one-night stands?
none
20. What was the best book you read?
when i was five i killed myself
21. What was your greatest musical (re)discovery?
Rocky Volato
22. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
my parents came into town, and we went to cheesecake factory then mccabes. my mom had car bombsand had a grand old time.
23. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
guys not being retarded.... other than that it was an awesome year... i conquer dom
24. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?
ummm colorful...and me.
25. What kept you sane?
music phone calls, cigarettes
26. Who was the best new person you met?
my roommates, stephen, some other freshman i'm sure
27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006:
guys suck...we should throw rocks at them.
I ummm went snorkling...?
2. Did you keep your New Years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Oh I don't new resolutions...I think it curses your good intentions.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
well the nunezes but i wouldn't say they are close to me.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
yes
5. What countries did you visit?
I went to canada...but that's about it.
6. What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006?
I would like a ticket to europe that follows through, and a passport.
7. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
hmmmm...I finished my first year of college...that's an accomplishment.
8. What was your biggest failure?
my whole love life...hahahaha
9. Did you suffer illness or injury?
well yes of course. i cut my hand open trying to open the damn middle doors do the dorm.
10. What was the best thing you bought?
jeans...i went on a spree i would say.
11. Where did most of your money go?
clothing, food, movie, and cigarettes
12. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
going to ireland, even if it fell through.
13. What song will always remind you of 2006?
Everytime we touch-cascade, Dusk and Summer- Dashboard, and Hate (I really dont like you)-plain white t's all of these from dom + check on it, anything damien rice, hey there delilah, suicide medicine, corinne baily ray
14. Compared to this time last year, are you:
ii. thinner or fatter? about the same
iii. richer or poorer? about thesame
15. What do you wish you'd done more of?
working out, having alone time.
16. What do you wish you'd done less of?
drinking, smoking, boys
17. How did you spend Christmas?
with the family
18. Did you fall in love in 2006?
hmmm that's a difficult question.
19. How many one-night stands?
none
20. What was the best book you read?
when i was five i killed myself
21. What was your greatest musical (re)discovery?
Rocky Volato
22. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
my parents came into town, and we went to cheesecake factory then mccabes. my mom had car bombsand had a grand old time.
23. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
guys not being retarded.... other than that it was an awesome year... i conquer dom
24. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?
ummm colorful...and me.
25. What kept you sane?
music phone calls, cigarettes
26. Who was the best new person you met?
my roommates, stephen, some other freshman i'm sure
27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006:
guys suck...we should throw rocks at them.
Profile
Calendar
Recent Visitors
Friends
Crazy 40
Guess who I'm going to be for Halloween! - and no, it's not Harry Potter.
... 11/40 replies (Reply Now)
Bookmarks