Anywhere With You
I know I can't come near you
Every time I do
I get shaken inside and the sun in my eyes
I'll stay away
I'd rather be here
Than anywhere with you
Whoo
I'd be dancing with your ghost
Toasting note to note
So here's to the passing
Of all that could be
Between you and me
I'd rather be here
Than anywhere with you
Whoo
I know I can not see you
Even if I wanted to
'cause your light is the light of ten sunsets
Circled by eyes burned blue and opened wide
I'd rather be here
Than anywhere with you
Whoo
I'd rather be here
Than anywhere with you
Whoo
-Saves The Day
9.30.2004
It's Only You, Beautiful
Ug, I feel like such a douche.
Wish I knew how to do this again. It's been so long, I've forgotten how the game works and how to play it.
I don't even know if there's a game to play at this point.
And if I'm being too encrypted, or not encrypted enough as to sheild certain delicate egos, then too fucking bad.
I don't want to censor myself here anymore than I already do, but at the same time I don't want to talk about this because I don't know if there's anything I can talk about without sounding like it's all in my head.
Did that make sense?
Mel lost her Yellowcard ticket. It was in her wallet when it got stolen at Cowboys last week.
I think the show's sold out, too.
[Fuck you, Taking Back Sunday, for only touring to Vancouver and Toronto. FUCK YOU, I SAY!]
No, it's not. I bought a ticket.
False alarm.
I should go shower or do whatever will make me feel prettier and happier with myself.
Ug, I feel like such a douche.
Wish I knew how to do this again. It's been so long, I've forgotten how the game works and how to play it.
I don't even know if there's a game to play at this point.
And if I'm being too encrypted, or not encrypted enough as to sheild certain delicate egos, then too fucking bad.
I don't want to censor myself here anymore than I already do, but at the same time I don't want to talk about this because I don't know if there's anything I can talk about without sounding like it's all in my head.
Did that make sense?
Mel lost her Yellowcard ticket. It was in her wallet when it got stolen at Cowboys last week.
I think the show's sold out, too.
[Fuck you, Taking Back Sunday, for only touring to Vancouver and Toronto. FUCK YOU, I SAY!]
No, it's not. I bought a ticket.
False alarm.
I should go shower or do whatever will make me feel prettier and happier with myself.
9.29.2004
Another view of the tracks. Much to the disappointment of 50% of my readership, there were no oncoming trains.
9.28.2004
And I know this one isn't very good, but it looks kind of cool in a fucked-up way. Oh, and mrkranky, can I add you to my Fotolog friends list?
YARG
Quick post.
At work...again.
I open tomorrow, too. No Humanities for me!
Cleaning the air guns and paint canisters tonight. Come visit me if you want to.
Anthro test...well...I've had better.
Re-discovered my Saves The Day CD. Love.
Peace!
Quick post.
At work...again.
I open tomorrow, too. No Humanities for me!
Cleaning the air guns and paint canisters tonight. Come visit me if you want to.
Anthro test...well...I've had better.
Re-discovered my Saves The Day CD. Love.
Peace!
Fuck You Aurora
My, my what a mess we've made
Of our pretty little heads these days.
It appears a heavy wind's blown through here recently.
Best wishes have been made for you.
You never had no say it's true.
You have to be the cutest gravedigger I've ever seen.
And all your lonely nights
In the city of lights are much like
All these crowded bars I so often find my stupid self stumbling through.
My, my what a mess was made of my head
When I heard what you'd been through that day.
It appears a violent storm's passed through you recently.
Letters meant to be sent have been torn.
The phone lies off the hook, on the floor.
All these "I'm sorry"s and "I miss you"s are useless.
I fucked this one up long ago.
And all your lonely nights
In the city of lights are much like
All these crowded bars I so often find my stupid self-stumbling through.
Fuck you Aurora, you took my only friend.
And although it's all my fault,
The blaming myself had to come to an end. So I say:
Fuck you Aurora, you took my only friend.
You won't catch me behind the wheel
Of a Chrysler ever again.
My, my what a mess we've made
Of our precious little lives these days.
It appears a big fucking tornado has twisted us up recently.
Best wishes have been made for you.
You never had no say it's true.
You have to be the cutest gravedigger I've ever seen.
And all your lonely nights in the city of lights are much like
All these crowded bars I so often find my stupid self-stumbling through.
Fuck you Aurora, you took my only friend.
And although it's all my fault,
The blaming myself had to come to an end. So I say:
Fuck you Aurora, you took my only friend.
You won't catch me behind the wheel
Of a Chrysler ever again.
-Alkaline Trio
My, my what a mess we've made
Of our pretty little heads these days.
It appears a heavy wind's blown through here recently.
Best wishes have been made for you.
You never had no say it's true.
You have to be the cutest gravedigger I've ever seen.
And all your lonely nights
In the city of lights are much like
All these crowded bars I so often find my stupid self stumbling through.
My, my what a mess was made of my head
When I heard what you'd been through that day.
It appears a violent storm's passed through you recently.
Letters meant to be sent have been torn.
The phone lies off the hook, on the floor.
All these "I'm sorry"s and "I miss you"s are useless.
I fucked this one up long ago.
And all your lonely nights
In the city of lights are much like
All these crowded bars I so often find my stupid self-stumbling through.
Fuck you Aurora, you took my only friend.
And although it's all my fault,
The blaming myself had to come to an end. So I say:
Fuck you Aurora, you took my only friend.
You won't catch me behind the wheel
Of a Chrysler ever again.
My, my what a mess we've made
Of our precious little lives these days.
It appears a big fucking tornado has twisted us up recently.
Best wishes have been made for you.
You never had no say it's true.
You have to be the cutest gravedigger I've ever seen.
And all your lonely nights in the city of lights are much like
All these crowded bars I so often find my stupid self-stumbling through.
Fuck you Aurora, you took my only friend.
And although it's all my fault,
The blaming myself had to come to an end. So I say:
Fuck you Aurora, you took my only friend.
You won't catch me behind the wheel
Of a Chrysler ever again.
-Alkaline Trio
Where in the hell did my mom put the fucking scale?!
How am I supposed to keep track of this if I can't find a god-damn scale?
ARG!
How am I supposed to keep track of this if I can't find a god-damn scale?
ARG!
This Is What Living Like This Does
Oh hells.
So much for getting up early and catching the fog, hey? Bloody hell.
I think I'll head to school a little early and study for my Anthro test. One thing I really hate about school is how they put material from the videos on the tests.
I mean seriously, who watches those? I know I sleep through them. On my Psych test on Friday, there was a question about one of the videos we watched in class. "Give an example from the video on the Placebo effect and the causes thereof" or some shit like that.
Dude, I slept through that one. Damn.
I'm also getting used to the automatic toilets all over the school. I've been hoping there's at least one, somewhere, that's still your standard push-handle, but to no avail. I don't know why, but the auto-flush ones make me nervous.
Moving on from my phobia of auto-flush toilets...
Yeah, actually, I don't have anything else to say for the day. Time to go dick around on LJ.
Oh, and go here, bitches.
Oh hells.
So much for getting up early and catching the fog, hey? Bloody hell.
I think I'll head to school a little early and study for my Anthro test. One thing I really hate about school is how they put material from the videos on the tests.
I mean seriously, who watches those? I know I sleep through them. On my Psych test on Friday, there was a question about one of the videos we watched in class. "Give an example from the video on the Placebo effect and the causes thereof" or some shit like that.
Dude, I slept through that one. Damn.
I'm also getting used to the automatic toilets all over the school. I've been hoping there's at least one, somewhere, that's still your standard push-handle, but to no avail. I don't know why, but the auto-flush ones make me nervous.
Moving on from my phobia of auto-flush toilets...
Yeah, actually, I don't have anything else to say for the day. Time to go dick around on LJ.
Oh, and go here, bitches.
9.27.2004
WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO DAMN HAPPY TOGETHER?! I seethe with jealousy but adore the both of you nonetheless.
The Least I Can Do
Happy birthday to my brother Kale, who turns 13 today and is as old as hell.
Well, at least I can still kick his ass.
I went to the gym today and was thrilled to discover that the songs on my CD matched up perfectly with my intervals on the machine. Simple pleasures, I know.
And then I had a nap in the EA building next to some cute guy who was also listening to music. Well, not really a nap, more like a catnap followed by staring out the window while listening to Dashboard.
And Sociology was also good.
Some James guy from....junior high, if any of my readers went with me...is in my Soci class. His mom was a gym teacher, anybody else remember?
Anyway, interesting tidbit.
Douchewaffle needs to become the newest "Buzz Word". Props to Devon, again, for an awesome word.
Gonna post some pictures.
Going to Fish Creek in the morning to try and get some shots of the foilage before it comes down next week [or thenabouts]. And with any luck, there'll be mist on the river.
I'll shit myself if I'm that lucky.
Peace out. I also have to go write an angsty, semi-private entry in my Livejournal about someone. No, it's not you, so you can get your panties out of a bunch.
Douchewaffle.
Happy birthday to my brother Kale, who turns 13 today and is as old as hell.
Well, at least I can still kick his ass.
I went to the gym today and was thrilled to discover that the songs on my CD matched up perfectly with my intervals on the machine. Simple pleasures, I know.
And then I had a nap in the EA building next to some cute guy who was also listening to music. Well, not really a nap, more like a catnap followed by staring out the window while listening to Dashboard.
And Sociology was also good.
Some James guy from....junior high, if any of my readers went with me...is in my Soci class. His mom was a gym teacher, anybody else remember?
Anyway, interesting tidbit.
Douchewaffle needs to become the newest "Buzz Word". Props to Devon, again, for an awesome word.
Gonna post some pictures.
Going to Fish Creek in the morning to try and get some shots of the foilage before it comes down next week [or thenabouts]. And with any luck, there'll be mist on the river.
I'll shit myself if I'm that lucky.
Peace out. I also have to go write an angsty, semi-private entry in my Livejournal about someone. No, it's not you, so you can get your panties out of a bunch.
Douchewaffle.
9.26.2004
Pierre and Lesley trying to get into the Tercel on Friday night. .....I swear to God I didn't steal the keys again...
Soco Amaretto Lime
Ed and I spent the night at the John Henry pub in Bridlewood.
I started my binging at 8:30 [nothing compared to me and Mel's 5pm debaunchery, I know] and we went until....2 am. I think.
I spent 80 bucks last night.
Eighty fucking dollars on alcohol.
And I wasn't out-drank, either. I kept pace with Ed, completely.
Although the free shot we got at the end of the night from the bartender [Sour Jack's] did me in.
I got home at 4:19am.
Thank God my mom is away this weekend.
And here I am, blogging from the Shaw terminal again.
I was up at 8:30 to catch a bus at 9:50 to get me here at 10:45.
Last night was fun, and we're going again next week once he gets paid.
I got four fucking hours of sleep, and the only thing that's keeping me going right now is my white chocolate mocha. God bless you, Starbucks.
Had to harass the B-Sweet guy for change because the girl from last night left me a weird fucking float. No change. Three twenties. Three tens. No fives. Two loonies. No quarters. The hell? How am I supposed to make change without change?
"Why does it say paper jam when there is no paper jam!?"
I heart Office Space.
I'm going back to work and nursing this hangover some more.
Hopefully your Saturday nights were as booze-filled as mine turned out to be.
Ed and I spent the night at the John Henry pub in Bridlewood.
I started my binging at 8:30 [nothing compared to me and Mel's 5pm debaunchery, I know] and we went until....2 am. I think.
I spent 80 bucks last night.
Eighty fucking dollars on alcohol.
And I wasn't out-drank, either. I kept pace with Ed, completely.
Although the free shot we got at the end of the night from the bartender [Sour Jack's] did me in.
I got home at 4:19am.
Thank God my mom is away this weekend.
And here I am, blogging from the Shaw terminal again.
I was up at 8:30 to catch a bus at 9:50 to get me here at 10:45.
Last night was fun, and we're going again next week once he gets paid.
I got four fucking hours of sleep, and the only thing that's keeping me going right now is my white chocolate mocha. God bless you, Starbucks.
Had to harass the B-Sweet guy for change because the girl from last night left me a weird fucking float. No change. Three twenties. Three tens. No fives. Two loonies. No quarters. The hell? How am I supposed to make change without change?
"Why does it say paper jam when there is no paper jam!?"
I heart Office Space.
I'm going back to work and nursing this hangover some more.
Hopefully your Saturday nights were as booze-filled as mine turned out to be.
9.25.2004
I Am Flawed, But I Am Cleaning Up So Well
I've got 4 tattoos right now.
Well, 5, if you count the real one.
I'm such a pushover. Seriously, if you need something, just fucking ask.
I bought a stranger a grande caramel frappuchino today because I felt bad that his debit card had insufficient funds. His name is Camron[?] and he lives right by Spruce Meadows. He fell off a motorbike yesterday that his girlfriend was driving and messed up his elbow, but doesn't want to go to the hospital because he think it's fine.
So that kept me occupied for a while until it started to get busy again. He was a cool guy, I hope he stops by some other time.
....And, once again, I agreed to cover a shift. So now I work tomorrow, 11-6. Open to close. ARG!
Oh well. I need money.
Ed and I are going drinking tonight, and I [because I'm a sap/alcoholic-in-training] agreed to pay for the evening. Hence why I'm taking as many shifts as I can.
Oh, and I bombed a Psych test too, I think. Well, I hope I didn't. But I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you.
Room needs cleaning. Bed needs making. Stomach needs filling. Hair needs doing.
Le peace.
I've got 4 tattoos right now.
Well, 5, if you count the real one.
I'm such a pushover. Seriously, if you need something, just fucking ask.
I bought a stranger a grande caramel frappuchino today because I felt bad that his debit card had insufficient funds. His name is Camron[?] and he lives right by Spruce Meadows. He fell off a motorbike yesterday that his girlfriend was driving and messed up his elbow, but doesn't want to go to the hospital because he think it's fine.
So that kept me occupied for a while until it started to get busy again. He was a cool guy, I hope he stops by some other time.
....And, once again, I agreed to cover a shift. So now I work tomorrow, 11-6. Open to close. ARG!
Oh well. I need money.
Ed and I are going drinking tonight, and I [because I'm a sap/alcoholic-in-training] agreed to pay for the evening. Hence why I'm taking as many shifts as I can.
Oh, and I bombed a Psych test too, I think. Well, I hope I didn't. But I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you.
Room needs cleaning. Bed needs making. Stomach needs filling. Hair needs doing.
Le peace.
Fast
CSI season premire rocked my socks. Greg is a CSI now, so he gets WAAAAAAY more screen time. J'adore.
Might be going to the Alley tonight, might go to Pat's post-post-party-party thing for the bandies.
Worked Thursday/Friday night, and I work today until 5.
I'm blogging from the Shaw terminal, if you were wondering.
IT'S SO BLOODY SLOW.
Got a bunch of new pictures to post later when I get home.
Went to Denny's with Lesley and Pierre last night after work.
Back to work...and the cute B-Sweet guy is working today...at the sunglass kiosk. Go figure.
Blog ya later.
CSI season premire rocked my socks. Greg is a CSI now, so he gets WAAAAAAY more screen time. J'adore.
Might be going to the Alley tonight, might go to Pat's post-post-party-party thing for the bandies.
Worked Thursday/Friday night, and I work today until 5.
I'm blogging from the Shaw terminal, if you were wondering.
IT'S SO BLOODY SLOW.
Got a bunch of new pictures to post later when I get home.
Went to Denny's with Lesley and Pierre last night after work.
Back to work...and the cute B-Sweet guy is working today...at the sunglass kiosk. Go figure.
Blog ya later.
9.23.2004
Good news for MF: Corey's moving back to Calgary.
Good news for me: My laundry's done, and the pool's going to be open after I get out of Anthropology.
Life is good.
Good news for me: My laundry's done, and the pool's going to be open after I get out of Anthropology.
Life is good.
Another leaf/tree photo. I don't know why; I'm just captivated by the space behind the leaves. Just....look at it.
Vindicated
Hope dangles on a string
Like slow spinning redemption
Winding in and winding out
The shine of it has caught my eye
And roped me in
So mesmerizing, so hypnotizing
I am captivated
I am vindicated
I am selfish
I am wrong
I am right
I swear I'm right
I swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed
But I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself
So clear
Like the diamond in your ring
Cut to mirror your intentions
Oversized and overwhelmed
The shine of which has caught my eye
And rendered me so isolated, so motivated
I am certain now that
I am vindicated
I am selfish
I am wrong
I am right
I swear I'm right
I swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed
But I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself
So turn
Up the corners of your lips
Part them and feel my finger tips
Trace the moment, fall forever
Defense is paper thin
Just one touch and I'd be in
Too deep now to ever swim against the current
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
So let me slip against the current
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
I am vindicated
I am selfish
I am wrong
I am right
I swear I'm right
I swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed
But I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself
Slight hope
It dangles on a string
Like slow spinning redemption...
-Dashboard Confessional
I am a techie goddess. After only ten minutes on the phone with Telus, I fixed our internet service once and for all.
Hoo-yeah!
Had my interview at Shopper's this morning. They might hire me for Photo lab, which would be cool because I'd get 30% off of...well, anything, basically.
But I love my tattooing job. The pay's better at Shopper's too...about 7$/hr to start, as opposed to my 6.50$/hr at the booth.
Hey KM, I'll be at my job 9:30 to 5 on Saturday in Chinook. I'm over by Claire's.
That invitation also extends to the rest of you, if you so desire.
I'm stoked for it, though. We just got all our Shocker clothing in, so that's going to be fun to sell.
Philosophy was a PAIN yesterday. That class makes no fucking sense. I'm not looking forward to the actual tests, which count more than 5%. ARG stupid school.
Got some housework to do--laundry, room cleaning, vacuuming, link management. You know, the usual.
You guys have a good day and check out Mike and Holly, the newest links on the sidebar.
Consistantly providing your daily dose of angst,
The Renegade.
Hope dangles on a string
Like slow spinning redemption
Winding in and winding out
The shine of it has caught my eye
And roped me in
So mesmerizing, so hypnotizing
I am captivated
I am vindicated
I am selfish
I am wrong
I am right
I swear I'm right
I swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed
But I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself
So clear
Like the diamond in your ring
Cut to mirror your intentions
Oversized and overwhelmed
The shine of which has caught my eye
And rendered me so isolated, so motivated
I am certain now that
I am vindicated
I am selfish
I am wrong
I am right
I swear I'm right
I swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed
But I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself
So turn
Up the corners of your lips
Part them and feel my finger tips
Trace the moment, fall forever
Defense is paper thin
Just one touch and I'd be in
Too deep now to ever swim against the current
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
So let me slip against the current
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
I am vindicated
I am selfish
I am wrong
I am right
I swear I'm right
I swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed
But I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself
Slight hope
It dangles on a string
Like slow spinning redemption...
-Dashboard Confessional
I am a techie goddess. After only ten minutes on the phone with Telus, I fixed our internet service once and for all.
Hoo-yeah!
Had my interview at Shopper's this morning. They might hire me for Photo lab, which would be cool because I'd get 30% off of...well, anything, basically.
But I love my tattooing job. The pay's better at Shopper's too...about 7$/hr to start, as opposed to my 6.50$/hr at the booth.
Hey KM, I'll be at my job 9:30 to 5 on Saturday in Chinook. I'm over by Claire's.
That invitation also extends to the rest of you, if you so desire.
I'm stoked for it, though. We just got all our Shocker clothing in, so that's going to be fun to sell.
Philosophy was a PAIN yesterday. That class makes no fucking sense. I'm not looking forward to the actual tests, which count more than 5%. ARG stupid school.
Got some housework to do--laundry, room cleaning, vacuuming, link management. You know, the usual.
You guys have a good day and check out Mike and Holly, the newest links on the sidebar.
Consistantly providing your daily dose of angst,
The Renegade.
9.22.2004
So You Wrote It Down, Am I Supposed To Care?
Hola.
Let's start this off with a quote from my comments, since that seems to be the "in" thing to do right now.
Yeah, by the way, I have a disclaimer near the bottom of this page. Might be worth a read if you're more interested in reading this because you hate me than for any other reason.
And I quote:
Thank you, Cristina. Let's leave it at that, shall we?
Watched season premiere of Law & Order: SVU last night. SO good. Also, Ed and Hot Scott came over last night to check out the guitar. I should be able to close the deal by the end of the month, just in time to pay off my credit card.
"You would kill for this, just a little bit, just a little bit, you would..."
Mel burned me a CD, that lyric's from Stray Light Run.
I also have to pick up the Across Five Aprils disk; or, at the very least, find out what place may have it.
[Nobody's going to care about this next bit, and while it's certainly not as "exciting" as the size of my previous bowel movements, I still consider it worth mentioning for my future reference.]
Blaire had an...episode last night. I came out of my room to ask if anyone needed any darks done for laundry. She was standing in her doorway, hanging on with her right arm. She was staring past me, so I asked her again because it seemed like she was ignoring me.
She got a far-away look in her eyes, put her left arm across her front, and then collapsed to her knees before falling forward onto her stomach. I ran over to her and saw that her eyes were rolled back in her head. Her forehead was burning and her pulse was fast, too fast.
I got a cold washcloth for her head and made her roll over. Then, suddenly, she got coherant again, and didn't understand why she was on the floor. According to her, all she remembers is me asking her if she had laundry, and then the washcloth on her forehead.
She seemed fine, so we forgot to tell Mom. Mom, predictably, freaked out when we finally told her at about 10. She wants Blaire to go to the doctor for tests, to make sure there's nothing wrong with her. And she bugged me for a while to see if I had been having blackouts [non-alcohol related, FYI] or dizzy spells [i haven't].
If you're new to the blog, I'll give you some background info: My brother has a heart condition where his heart will stop, giving the appearance of a seizure or fainting spell. We found out about it in January of this year, and he had a pacemaker put in. My mom's worried that it's a genetic thing, and all three of us may have it.
My mom worries a lot.
Oh, and Jen's got another pass for the Alley next weekend. Hoo-rah. Mark messed up his ankle, so we might just go to the Film Fest this weekend instead, then go to Mynt for drinks with Mark and Cody.
I have a Philosophy test tonight. Not looking forward to it, but I feel pretty confident because I got a 95% on my Humanities test this morning.
When your mark is made up of a grand total of 4 tests, 95% is the ideal grade. But, I digress.
My Internet at home is messed up, so I can't send my pictures to Futureshop until Telus gets their shit together. But when I do....
Yeah, I don't know where I was going with that, either. Off to the Bull for lunch!
Hola.
Let's start this off with a quote from my comments, since that seems to be the "in" thing to do right now.
Yeah, by the way, I have a disclaimer near the bottom of this page. Might be worth a read if you're more interested in reading this because you hate me than for any other reason.
And I quote:
"this is probably too little too late, but the blogger's disclaimer (http://midge.bloggage.com/readme/) clearly notes: "Ex-friends, ex-lovers and estranged family members who have been cut out of the writer's life should refrain from reading their journal. If the relationship has ended, there is no reason you should get daily updates on the person's life. If you simply can't help yourself, do it quietly, and never repeat what you read or use it to hurt the writer." "
Thank you, Cristina. Let's leave it at that, shall we?
Watched season premiere of Law & Order: SVU last night. SO good. Also, Ed and Hot Scott came over last night to check out the guitar. I should be able to close the deal by the end of the month, just in time to pay off my credit card.
"You would kill for this, just a little bit, just a little bit, you would..."
Mel burned me a CD, that lyric's from Stray Light Run.
I also have to pick up the Across Five Aprils disk; or, at the very least, find out what place may have it.
[Nobody's going to care about this next bit, and while it's certainly not as "exciting" as the size of my previous bowel movements, I still consider it worth mentioning for my future reference.]
Blaire had an...episode last night. I came out of my room to ask if anyone needed any darks done for laundry. She was standing in her doorway, hanging on with her right arm. She was staring past me, so I asked her again because it seemed like she was ignoring me.
She got a far-away look in her eyes, put her left arm across her front, and then collapsed to her knees before falling forward onto her stomach. I ran over to her and saw that her eyes were rolled back in her head. Her forehead was burning and her pulse was fast, too fast.
I got a cold washcloth for her head and made her roll over. Then, suddenly, she got coherant again, and didn't understand why she was on the floor. According to her, all she remembers is me asking her if she had laundry, and then the washcloth on her forehead.
She seemed fine, so we forgot to tell Mom. Mom, predictably, freaked out when we finally told her at about 10. She wants Blaire to go to the doctor for tests, to make sure there's nothing wrong with her. And she bugged me for a while to see if I had been having blackouts [non-alcohol related, FYI] or dizzy spells [i haven't].
If you're new to the blog, I'll give you some background info: My brother has a heart condition where his heart will stop, giving the appearance of a seizure or fainting spell. We found out about it in January of this year, and he had a pacemaker put in. My mom's worried that it's a genetic thing, and all three of us may have it.
My mom worries a lot.
Oh, and Jen's got another pass for the Alley next weekend. Hoo-rah. Mark messed up his ankle, so we might just go to the Film Fest this weekend instead, then go to Mynt for drinks with Mark and Cody.
I have a Philosophy test tonight. Not looking forward to it, but I feel pretty confident because I got a 95% on my Humanities test this morning.
When your mark is made up of a grand total of 4 tests, 95% is the ideal grade. But, I digress.
My Internet at home is messed up, so I can't send my pictures to Futureshop until Telus gets their shit together. But when I do....
Yeah, I don't know where I was going with that, either. Off to the Bull for lunch!
9.21.2004
When It Goes Down
When it all just fits
No more waiting up 'till midnight
To see if he comes home
And it sinks in
Through these holes in your old bed sheets
You might spend your life alone
And you don't want to be alone
No not alone
When you think too much
And you came to another game
Despondent out of touch
And you reach so hard it makes you fall
For these hands that let you go
That shouldn't let you go at all
That shouldn't let you go at all
No not at all
I don't know what it's like to be you babe
But from the looks I don't think I want to
And I know I've been hanging on tight
So maybe it just might mean I don't want you
Yeah babe I don't want you
You know what I mean
When I say that I come from a place that hurts
You fit in my scene
And try to make everything work
You watch me turn green
I come down, yeah but I might never land
You said you'd understand
But you don't want to be there
When it goes down again
Bop bop bop bop bop ba da [x6]
Staring at the ceiling
Gives me another feeling
About who you are
And you know I was really thinking
I could be another Lincoln
If I got this far
If I got this far
Driving in my car
And then I started holding on to these I couldn't keep
And the wise ass called me faggot
But I feel more like a creep
And these things creep
I watch them creep
And I don't get no sleep
And I don't know what it's like to take it slow
And from the feel I don't think I want to
No I don't want to
And I now know
And I know that it seems I'm letting go
And things I know, I know would haunt you
And I don't want to haunt you
You know what I mean
When I say that I come from a place that hurts
You fit in my scene
And try to make everything work
You watch me turn green
I come down, yeah but I might never land
You said you'd understand
But you don't want to be there
When it goes down again
You know what I mean
When I say that I come from a place that hurts
You fit in my scene
And try to make everything work
You watch me turn green
I come down, yeah but I might never land
You said you'd understand
But you don't want to be there
You don't want to be there
You don't want to be there
When it goes down again
When it goes down again
-Something Corporate
Went over to Ed's last night and watched the football game with him/Ryan, then watched LAX, then got a ride home from Ed. An uneventful evening, for a change.
I've got to be at the college at about 12:30 to meet Pat for our weekly pint. Anthropology at 3:30. Plus I have to call my boss, Mike, and see if he sent the schedules out yesterday because I sure didn't get mine.
I listened to "Globes & Maps" for the first time in ten months yesterday. Forgot what a good song that is; god bless you, Something Corporate.
Gotta stop smoking before I go to bed; weird dreams about hotels and housing developments and New-Age stores and ancient acquaintences. I blame the Captain Jack's.
Good luck tonight, Mel.
When it all just fits
No more waiting up 'till midnight
To see if he comes home
And it sinks in
Through these holes in your old bed sheets
You might spend your life alone
And you don't want to be alone
No not alone
When you think too much
And you came to another game
Despondent out of touch
And you reach so hard it makes you fall
For these hands that let you go
That shouldn't let you go at all
That shouldn't let you go at all
No not at all
I don't know what it's like to be you babe
But from the looks I don't think I want to
And I know I've been hanging on tight
So maybe it just might mean I don't want you
Yeah babe I don't want you
You know what I mean
When I say that I come from a place that hurts
You fit in my scene
And try to make everything work
You watch me turn green
I come down, yeah but I might never land
You said you'd understand
But you don't want to be there
When it goes down again
Bop bop bop bop bop ba da [x6]
Staring at the ceiling
Gives me another feeling
About who you are
And you know I was really thinking
I could be another Lincoln
If I got this far
If I got this far
Driving in my car
And then I started holding on to these I couldn't keep
And the wise ass called me faggot
But I feel more like a creep
And these things creep
I watch them creep
And I don't get no sleep
And I don't know what it's like to take it slow
And from the feel I don't think I want to
No I don't want to
And I now know
And I know that it seems I'm letting go
And things I know, I know would haunt you
And I don't want to haunt you
You know what I mean
When I say that I come from a place that hurts
You fit in my scene
And try to make everything work
You watch me turn green
I come down, yeah but I might never land
You said you'd understand
But you don't want to be there
When it goes down again
You know what I mean
When I say that I come from a place that hurts
You fit in my scene
And try to make everything work
You watch me turn green
I come down, yeah but I might never land
You said you'd understand
But you don't want to be there
You don't want to be there
You don't want to be there
When it goes down again
When it goes down again
-Something Corporate
Went over to Ed's last night and watched the football game with him/Ryan, then watched LAX, then got a ride home from Ed. An uneventful evening, for a change.
I've got to be at the college at about 12:30 to meet Pat for our weekly pint. Anthropology at 3:30. Plus I have to call my boss, Mike, and see if he sent the schedules out yesterday because I sure didn't get mine.
I listened to "Globes & Maps" for the first time in ten months yesterday. Forgot what a good song that is; god bless you, Something Corporate.
Gotta stop smoking before I go to bed; weird dreams about hotels and housing developments and New-Age stores and ancient acquaintences. I blame the Captain Jack's.
Good luck tonight, Mel.
9.20.2004
Everyone's Caught On To Everything You Do
School was good.
Did laps.
Hot, intellectual guy in my SOCI class.
Lunch with Joe.
Sold guitar over internet about 20 minutes ago. None of your business what it went for.
Anxious for the Alley on Saturday with Mel and [apparently] Sexy Hair Mark.
Waiting for my schedule to come in. That job is fucking awesome.
Gonna go hang out with Ed, I hope.
Thought I spotted Famous at school today; false alarm.
I have a shoebox of memories to burn, if anyone's interested.
School was good.
Did laps.
Hot, intellectual guy in my SOCI class.
Lunch with Joe.
Sold guitar over internet about 20 minutes ago. None of your business what it went for.
Anxious for the Alley on Saturday with Mel and [apparently] Sexy Hair Mark.
Waiting for my schedule to come in. That job is fucking awesome.
Gonna go hang out with Ed, I hope.
Thought I spotted Famous at school today; false alarm.
I have a shoebox of memories to burn, if anyone's interested.
9.19.2004
This Is The LAST Time I'm Addressing This.
Oh boo-hoo. I don't tell my friends to do anything.
Will, since you seem incapable of telling me things yourself or contacting me directly, I'll put this on the blog that you seem to enjoy reading so much.
Why do you even care anymore? You told me to go out and meet people. You told me to have fun.
You're the one who broke up with me. Not me. I had no part in the decision. I tried to tell you otherwise, but you made your decision. Now live with it.
Mel [who is really the only one to express such a strong emotional response about it] and my other friends are free to do what they want. I don't ask them to do or say anything on my behalf.
You're upset? Too fucking bad. Maybe you should have thought about that before you did what you did and said what you said last week.
I'm through with this. I'm through with you. I'm through with having to deal with your excess baggage. I want my video game sent back to me; I promised Kale it'd be back for Christmas.
You say you're better off alone? Then leave me alone and get out of my life.
Fuck you. Fuck everything about you. Fuck what you did to me. Fuck you.
"I know it's not my place to say anything, but I don't get why everyone hates Will. He just read this entry of yours and he had to leave and go to his room to be alone. He didn't want to hurt you, but having all your friends treat him like shit really isn't helping any situation."
Oh boo-hoo. I don't tell my friends to do anything.
Will, since you seem incapable of telling me things yourself or contacting me directly, I'll put this on the blog that you seem to enjoy reading so much.
Why do you even care anymore? You told me to go out and meet people. You told me to have fun.
You're the one who broke up with me. Not me. I had no part in the decision. I tried to tell you otherwise, but you made your decision. Now live with it.
Mel [who is really the only one to express such a strong emotional response about it] and my other friends are free to do what they want. I don't ask them to do or say anything on my behalf.
You're upset? Too fucking bad. Maybe you should have thought about that before you did what you did and said what you said last week.
I'm through with this. I'm through with you. I'm through with having to deal with your excess baggage. I want my video game sent back to me; I promised Kale it'd be back for Christmas.
You say you're better off alone? Then leave me alone and get out of my life.
Fuck you. Fuck everything about you. Fuck what you did to me. Fuck you.
Who Were Those Hot Men, Anyway?
Well.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I had an excellent night last night.
I love my job, but it took me forever to close, mostly because I've never done it before. But Mel and Jen met me at the mall, then I changed into my shirt [The New Years Shirt, aka The Boob Shirt] behind a pillar outside, and away we went.
Took us a while to get inside, and we almost went downtown a few times, but in the end...I think we were all happy with our decision to stay at the Alley.
So what happened?
Well, I got up on the boxes as soon as Mel and Jen went for another beer, I discovered a new brand of cigars to smoke, I burned myself a few times on Mel's cigarrettes and my cigars, etc.
While we were on the boxes, this blonde girl in a short skirt squeezed up between us, then went up on top of the bar. I ended up there with her [and nearly fell off several times]. Found out her name was Lisa and it was her 25th birthday at midnight, and that she really, really likes Jackass. [See, at the Alley, they play the intro from the Jackass movie--you know, where they're all in the Shopping Cart Of Doom...it's a highlight of the evening. They do it every night. It's a tradition.]
So the somehow, these two guys end up on the speakers right below where I'm dancing on the bar. They've got these three girls in between them, but the girls were ass-looking and eventually just left. So these poor guys are just dancing on the boxes, looking a little forlorn, when I realize: I know these guys.
I don't know from where. I don't know their names. But I know I've seen them, possibly even talked to them, at some point in time. One's wearing an Atticus shirt, one's wearing a Famous Stars and Straps. Remember this: it's important for later.
Mel's all by her lonesome down on the boxes, next to Atticus and Famous. Jen's....off with Guy #2 of the evening, or something like that. I bend down and grab Famous's shoulder and motion for him to come up on the bar with me. He's shaking his head and looking scared, so his buddy Atticus grabs my hand and hauls himself up on the bar.
And the night took off from there.
Eventually the bouncers made us all get down. Mel had managed to convince Famous to come up on the bar to dance with her, Lisa is still giving the pillar the what-for, and we're all having a grand ole' time.
So after the bouncers kicked us off the bar, we go back to the dance floor--purses safely shoved to the back of the cubbyholes under the boxes--and just party.
Somewhere around 1:15, I look over at Mel and Famous, and see that they're getting acquainted in a much more...personal sense, let's say. I think that spurred Atticus into action. [i decline further elaboration on that statement] Jen, again, is off with Guy #3, who is wearing a Metallica shirt.
2:15 rolls around and Atticus and Famous decide to leave. We part ways, a sort of, "well, see you..." and we go get our coats.
Guess who we run into at the front of the club outside? Yup, Atticus and Famous.
I even asked them, "Don't I know you from somewhere...?" I meant, of course, somewhere besides the bar inside...but Famous just looks at us like we're retarded and points back towards the building.
We give up, grab a cab, and head on home with our cool taxi driver [Dave? I can't remember what Mel told me this morning...] who interjected all sorts of wisdom into the conversation as we gossiped like junior-high girls about our conquests of tghe evening. Then Mel bursts out, "It's been a week since that fucker dumped you!!!" and 'Dave' wants to know what that's all about, so we had to tell that story. Then we went back onto the mystery of Atticus and Famous and where the hell I recognise them from.
It's not high school; Mel and I went through the yearbook on the phone this morning. Could have been from previous excursions to the Alley, but I don't think so, because I see hundreds of people there and wouldn't remember these two [even if they were especially yummy] so specifically. We concluded that we met them at a party or something, or I knew them from MRC. Mel was pretty sure she knew them from somewhere, too. And we concluded that they recognised us, also.
Oh man, what an excellent night.
I seriously didn't think I'd be saying this for a long, long time, but...
I love being single.
At bars especially.
Ahem.
So, yes, to summarise:
1. Work was good. I did 155$ in sales. Which included a Triple Five Soul watch worth 95$. I got a two dollar tip, too.
2. Matt Gates got taller. He turns 18 in December. I have dibs on making him puke.
3. Megan Duffy works right by my booth, in Bluenotes, upstairs; Lesley is literally around the corner in Black's.
4. There is a really hot, familiar-looking guy in the candy store right next to my booth.
5. The Alley is still my favourite nightclub.
6. Mel and I are hotter than previously thought, as evidenced by our bagging of the two most attractive guys in the place.
7. My dancing ability has gotten better--and that's not just the three beers I had talking.
8. This whole "being single" thing is actually more fun than I remembered.
9. We're going back next week.
10. The cab driver was hilarious.
11. I love Mel, Jen, dancing, and beer.
I'm going to go shower now.
OH! I almost forgot. I gave myself a bunch of tattoos yesterday. The only two I kept on to go out were a rose next to my belly button, and a navy sparrow on the inside of my left wrist. Everyone thought it was real, too.
I love my job.
This weekend kicked ass.
Well.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I had an excellent night last night.
I love my job, but it took me forever to close, mostly because I've never done it before. But Mel and Jen met me at the mall, then I changed into my shirt [The New Years Shirt, aka The Boob Shirt] behind a pillar outside, and away we went.
Took us a while to get inside, and we almost went downtown a few times, but in the end...I think we were all happy with our decision to stay at the Alley.
So what happened?
Well, I got up on the boxes as soon as Mel and Jen went for another beer, I discovered a new brand of cigars to smoke, I burned myself a few times on Mel's cigarrettes and my cigars, etc.
While we were on the boxes, this blonde girl in a short skirt squeezed up between us, then went up on top of the bar. I ended up there with her [and nearly fell off several times]. Found out her name was Lisa and it was her 25th birthday at midnight, and that she really, really likes Jackass. [See, at the Alley, they play the intro from the Jackass movie--you know, where they're all in the Shopping Cart Of Doom...it's a highlight of the evening. They do it every night. It's a tradition.]
So the somehow, these two guys end up on the speakers right below where I'm dancing on the bar. They've got these three girls in between them, but the girls were ass-looking and eventually just left. So these poor guys are just dancing on the boxes, looking a little forlorn, when I realize: I know these guys.
I don't know from where. I don't know their names. But I know I've seen them, possibly even talked to them, at some point in time. One's wearing an Atticus shirt, one's wearing a Famous Stars and Straps. Remember this: it's important for later.
Mel's all by her lonesome down on the boxes, next to Atticus and Famous. Jen's....off with Guy #2 of the evening, or something like that. I bend down and grab Famous's shoulder and motion for him to come up on the bar with me. He's shaking his head and looking scared, so his buddy Atticus grabs my hand and hauls himself up on the bar.
And the night took off from there.
Eventually the bouncers made us all get down. Mel had managed to convince Famous to come up on the bar to dance with her, Lisa is still giving the pillar the what-for, and we're all having a grand ole' time.
So after the bouncers kicked us off the bar, we go back to the dance floor--purses safely shoved to the back of the cubbyholes under the boxes--and just party.
Somewhere around 1:15, I look over at Mel and Famous, and see that they're getting acquainted in a much more...personal sense, let's say. I think that spurred Atticus into action. [i decline further elaboration on that statement] Jen, again, is off with Guy #3, who is wearing a Metallica shirt.
2:15 rolls around and Atticus and Famous decide to leave. We part ways, a sort of, "well, see you..." and we go get our coats.
Guess who we run into at the front of the club outside? Yup, Atticus and Famous.
I even asked them, "Don't I know you from somewhere...?" I meant, of course, somewhere besides the bar inside...but Famous just looks at us like we're retarded and points back towards the building.
We give up, grab a cab, and head on home with our cool taxi driver [Dave? I can't remember what Mel told me this morning...] who interjected all sorts of wisdom into the conversation as we gossiped like junior-high girls about our conquests of tghe evening. Then Mel bursts out, "It's been a week since that fucker dumped you!!!" and 'Dave' wants to know what that's all about, so we had to tell that story. Then we went back onto the mystery of Atticus and Famous and where the hell I recognise them from.
It's not high school; Mel and I went through the yearbook on the phone this morning. Could have been from previous excursions to the Alley, but I don't think so, because I see hundreds of people there and wouldn't remember these two [even if they were especially yummy] so specifically. We concluded that we met them at a party or something, or I knew them from MRC. Mel was pretty sure she knew them from somewhere, too. And we concluded that they recognised us, also.
Oh man, what an excellent night.
I seriously didn't think I'd be saying this for a long, long time, but...
I love being single.
At bars especially.
Ahem.
So, yes, to summarise:
1. Work was good. I did 155$ in sales. Which included a Triple Five Soul watch worth 95$. I got a two dollar tip, too.
2. Matt Gates got taller. He turns 18 in December. I have dibs on making him puke.
3. Megan Duffy works right by my booth, in Bluenotes, upstairs; Lesley is literally around the corner in Black's.
4. There is a really hot, familiar-looking guy in the candy store right next to my booth.
5. The Alley is still my favourite nightclub.
6. Mel and I are hotter than previously thought, as evidenced by our bagging of the two most attractive guys in the place.
7. My dancing ability has gotten better--and that's not just the three beers I had talking.
8. This whole "being single" thing is actually more fun than I remembered.
9. We're going back next week.
10. The cab driver was hilarious.
11. I love Mel, Jen, dancing, and beer.
I'm going to go shower now.
OH! I almost forgot. I gave myself a bunch of tattoos yesterday. The only two I kept on to go out were a rose next to my belly button, and a navy sparrow on the inside of my left wrist. Everyone thought it was real, too.
I love my job.
This weekend kicked ass.
9.18.2004
If You Don't, Then Honey Why'd You Just Say So?
Well. A bit of an absence.
I have a new job as a temporary tattoo "artisté" at Just For Now Tattoos and Urban Pavement Clothing Co. in Chinook Centre. I also peddle wares such as David & Goliath shirts/wallets/underroos, Baby Phat jewelry, Famous Stars & Stripes shirts/hats/keychains, Dickies guitar straps, vintage notebooks, a delightful assortment of buttons, Porn Star hats/shirts, and assorted Pony merchandise along with much, much more. We're starting hot press shirts [think The Rocket] next week, so "OMGWTFBBQ" is going in our book of "house designs" with my name as the credit.
I think it's safe to say I get +30 Scene Points© for this job.
I work tonight, too, so feel free to come down and glare at me from the safety of Claires or the candy store. 5-9, BITCHES.
Tequila fell through, as usual. Stupid Mark and Cody being pussies.
Oh well. I'm going to the Alley tonight with Jen and Mel. Jen's got free cover for four ladies, and apparently I'm one of the lucky four. The cab'll pick me up at Chinook at like 9:15, and then PAAAARTAY!
It'll be weird. The first time I'll be single at a nightclub. Don't worry, I'll drink tons and keep a mental record of the evening so I can blog about it tomorrow and supply your gossip needs for the weekend.
See? Always looking out for my audience. I know you all await every narcissistic post.
[And I'm only mocking some of you in that sentence.]
Anyway. Mel and I went to the Bull instead and got food and liquor. Our waitress knows us now; she didn't ID us and was awesome with service, so I left her a really good tip. We went back to her place and had a good talk and I took some pictures, then walked home around 1:30.
Anyone else ever notice how light outside it gets in the middle of the night? It's not very dark at 1:30am. Anyway.
I spent twenty minutes scrubbing the tattoos off my arms for today. See, I can do as many tattoos on myself as I want when I'm working; it helps lure people to the cart.
And before anyone else asks: NO I CANNOT GIVE YOU FREE TATTOOS. YOU HAVE TO PAY, JUST LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE.
I get 6.50/hr, plus a 3% commission on all my sales for the month. They're a tricky bunch--I'm not actually an 'employee', I'm a 'contractor'. Meaning: they don't have to take any deductions off of my cheques. I [read: my mom] have to do that on my own.
Just like my downtown job. *sigh*
It's nice to have a job again.
Two hours until I have to meet Matt for coffee in Chinook. Y'all have a good Saturday night, y'hear?
Word.
Well. A bit of an absence.
I have a new job as a temporary tattoo "artisté" at Just For Now Tattoos and Urban Pavement Clothing Co. in Chinook Centre. I also peddle wares such as David & Goliath shirts/wallets/underroos, Baby Phat jewelry, Famous Stars & Stripes shirts/hats/keychains, Dickies guitar straps, vintage notebooks, a delightful assortment of buttons, Porn Star hats/shirts, and assorted Pony merchandise along with much, much more. We're starting hot press shirts [think The Rocket] next week, so "OMGWTFBBQ" is going in our book of "house designs" with my name as the credit.
I think it's safe to say I get +30 Scene Points© for this job.
I work tonight, too, so feel free to come down and glare at me from the safety of Claires or the candy store. 5-9, BITCHES.
Tequila fell through, as usual. Stupid Mark and Cody being pussies.
Oh well. I'm going to the Alley tonight with Jen and Mel. Jen's got free cover for four ladies, and apparently I'm one of the lucky four. The cab'll pick me up at Chinook at like 9:15, and then PAAAARTAY!
It'll be weird. The first time I'll be single at a nightclub. Don't worry, I'll drink tons and keep a mental record of the evening so I can blog about it tomorrow and supply your gossip needs for the weekend.
See? Always looking out for my audience. I know you all await every narcissistic post.
[And I'm only mocking some of you in that sentence.]
Anyway. Mel and I went to the Bull instead and got food and liquor. Our waitress knows us now; she didn't ID us and was awesome with service, so I left her a really good tip. We went back to her place and had a good talk and I took some pictures, then walked home around 1:30.
Anyone else ever notice how light outside it gets in the middle of the night? It's not very dark at 1:30am. Anyway.
I spent twenty minutes scrubbing the tattoos off my arms for today. See, I can do as many tattoos on myself as I want when I'm working; it helps lure people to the cart.
And before anyone else asks: NO I CANNOT GIVE YOU FREE TATTOOS. YOU HAVE TO PAY, JUST LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE.
I get 6.50/hr, plus a 3% commission on all my sales for the month. They're a tricky bunch--I'm not actually an 'employee', I'm a 'contractor'. Meaning: they don't have to take any deductions off of my cheques. I [read: my mom] have to do that on my own.
Just like my downtown job. *sigh*
It's nice to have a job again.
Two hours until I have to meet Matt for coffee in Chinook. Y'all have a good Saturday night, y'hear?
Word.
...Slowdance On The Inside
Passed out in our school clothes so we'd wake up in our Sunday's best
I never asked for your opinion, I just got it, and I get it
You move slow like daytime drama
And I'm boring like his songs
So while I'm taking you for granted
We'll be humming along
Well cross my heart and hope to...
I'm lying just to keep you here
So reckless (so reckless), so,
So thoughtless (so thoughtless)
So careless, I could care less
Well cross my heart and hope to...
I'm lying just to keep you here
(So reckless)
Well [s]he's so heartless,
And I could care less
So paint your face up something elegant
And this town may be a darker shade of red
Cause a long night means a fist fight
Against your pillow and my pearly whites
I want to hear you scream you like me better on my knees
So let us pray
(we don't believe in second chances)
So let us pray
Don't you ask me
Don't you move (anywhere)
Cross my heart and hope to
I'm lying just to keep you here
So reckless (so reckless), so,
So thoughtless (so thoughtless)
So careless, I could care less
Well cross my heart and hope to
I'm lying just to keep you here
(So reckless)
Well she's so heartless
And I could care less
Well cross my heart and hope to
I'm lying just to keep you here (I'll keep you here, I'll keep you here)
One of us never did it but we're taking it all.
And tell me why you never promised that you wanted it all.
And her eyes never batted when she said it
It's a long night, open, know it...
This glass house is burning down (open all night, know it...)
You light the match, I'll stick around (open all night, know it...)
I'll give you everything you want (open all night, know it...)
And wish the worst of what I was (open all night, know it...)
This glass house is burning down (open all night, know it...)
You light the match, I'll stick around (open all night, know it...)
I'll give you everything you want (open all night, know it...)
And wish the worst of what I was (open all night, know it...)
Tonight won't make a difference
Tonight won't make a difference
Tonight won't make a difference
Well tonight won't make a difference
Well tonight won't make a difference
Tonight won't make a difference
Tonight won't make a difference
Well tonight won't make a difference
-Taking Back Sunday
Passed out in our school clothes so we'd wake up in our Sunday's best
I never asked for your opinion, I just got it, and I get it
You move slow like daytime drama
And I'm boring like his songs
So while I'm taking you for granted
We'll be humming along
Well cross my heart and hope to...
I'm lying just to keep you here
So reckless (so reckless), so,
So thoughtless (so thoughtless)
So careless, I could care less
Well cross my heart and hope to...
I'm lying just to keep you here
(So reckless)
Well [s]he's so heartless,
And I could care less
So paint your face up something elegant
And this town may be a darker shade of red
Cause a long night means a fist fight
Against your pillow and my pearly whites
I want to hear you scream you like me better on my knees
So let us pray
(we don't believe in second chances)
So let us pray
Don't you ask me
Don't you move (anywhere)
Cross my heart and hope to
I'm lying just to keep you here
So reckless (so reckless), so,
So thoughtless (so thoughtless)
So careless, I could care less
Well cross my heart and hope to
I'm lying just to keep you here
(So reckless)
Well she's so heartless
And I could care less
Well cross my heart and hope to
I'm lying just to keep you here (I'll keep you here, I'll keep you here)
One of us never did it but we're taking it all.
And tell me why you never promised that you wanted it all.
And her eyes never batted when she said it
It's a long night, open, know it...
This glass house is burning down (open all night, know it...)
You light the match, I'll stick around (open all night, know it...)
I'll give you everything you want (open all night, know it...)
And wish the worst of what I was (open all night, know it...)
This glass house is burning down (open all night, know it...)
You light the match, I'll stick around (open all night, know it...)
I'll give you everything you want (open all night, know it...)
And wish the worst of what I was (open all night, know it...)
Tonight won't make a difference
Tonight won't make a difference
Tonight won't make a difference
Well tonight won't make a difference
Well tonight won't make a difference
Tonight won't make a difference
Tonight won't make a difference
Well tonight won't make a difference
-Taking Back Sunday
9.17.2004
I started a new job today. Airbrush tattooing. I did the zodiac sign and the hearts near the top all by myself. I'll be there 5-9 tomorrow at Chinook if anyone's interested.
I love this peripheral time between summer and fall. It's creeping up on us day-by-day, but it'll soon be here.
Mel, thank you, for always being there for me. I'm coming over to your house right now with my CD wallet and we'll listen to as much emo as we can stomach before going to the Bull and tying one on. I HEART you. :) :) :)
9.15.2004
The Best Deceptions
My entire life is one long, drawn-out Dashboard Confessional song.
And I know that when this all is over, [whenever it's over...] I'll fall right back into the old habits and patterns.
It almost worries me that I'm getting so close to letting it go; does it mean that I was the one doing the deluding?
Did I delude myself into thinking I felt things that weren't actually there? Or am I deluding myself that I am just fine?
This idea, this concept of me not actually feeling anything scares me. If I am [seemingly] able to brush this off so quickly, was I ever actually "in love" in the first place?
Do I really need to validate myself based on whether or not I am attractive to the opposite sex? Unfortunately [and this is a classic [c]S moment, folks] yes, it does seem that way.
Am I now at that point where I'll just move on to the next conquest and once again tell myself that this time, I won't fuck it up, this time it'll actually mean something?
This begs the question: Have I actually ever cared about someone that way? Yes, I've had snit fits after breakups [see Nov.03, Aug.03, Sept.02, May.03, etc], I won't pretend I haven't.
But it feels like the reactions I gave were the reactions that were expected in that situation.
Or maybe I deal with rejection and abandonment in unhealthy ways. This, actually, is probably the better explanation. Instead of dealing with my feelings of worthlessness/rejection/ugliness/etc in a comprehensive, face-foward fashion, I bottle it up until it spills over into angst-ridden posts like the previous one.
This time is especially hard to deal with because of how much of myself I put out there. Emotionally, physically, everything. And now it appears [to me, at least] that none of it mattered in the end. Because in the end, just like every other time, he left anyway and I was left to just deal with it.
I'm torn between three things. One, a desire to just say "fuck you, Will Weldon" and move on with my life and go wherever the fuck I end up. To wipe my slate clean and pretend that he never existed and that I never 'wasted' [whether or not there is truth to that word is left up to the reader, this time] eight months of my life with him. That's my first choice.
My second choice is this: Angstily obsess over the memories him, languishing around in Calgary, hoping against hope that one day he'll miraculously have a change of heart and call me up to tell me that he'll be back in town on the weekend and how would I like to spend some time at his hotel room? And the sad part is, I would probably jump at the chance. It is sad, isn't it. I'm partway in this state right now, not gonna lie. Still hoping that he'll change his mind. Don't know where I'm going to go from here. But I don't want to be waiting by the phone for months on the off-chance he'll even remember my phone number or even consider calling me. Because let's face it, I'm not the kind of person who leaves a lasting positive impression. Consider my track record.
And here's my third choice. Try to shove any unresolved feelings I may have to the side, and try to stay friends with him. This is dangerous, because I could slip very easily into the Obsessive-Neurotic-Pathetic ex-girlfriend archetype. It might be hard to do at first, because Ithink know I'm going to be feeling this for some time, barring the appearance of Prince Fucking Charming. Actually, it might always be hard, because I know that the second he met someone in Toronto ['someone' possessing of a vagina/breasts], I'd become bitchy and snippy and jealous.
Well, what am I doing now? In a nutshell, I want him to hate me. If he hates me, things will be that much easier to let go. I made Duncan hate me [somehow...], I made James hate me [see New Years], why the hell can't I make Will hate me? I know he's capable of it--we had enough conversations about Britt for me to figure that out. If he would just fucking hate me, then I could truly say "fuck this, fuck you, and fuck us" and head out into the Brave New World of Singledom©.
So I start pushing away. In the last email I sent him, I brought up the most taboo subject of all: what if you fail? I pushed his buttons [or, at the very least, what i suspect are his buttons]. I've been baiting him in blog entries [subtly, yes, but the intent is there]. I LJ'd the current email exchange [filtered entry, don't bother looking]. Hell, I even bait that hoebag in the hopes of provoking Will into some kind of reaction, some kind of intervention.
That's the kind of person I am. Are you happy? I'm hiding nothing in this post. This is probably the most sincere I've been in a long, long time. And so help me, it feels liberating.
Could you still love me? I doubt it.
Right now, right this very second, I don't know if I still want you to. I hate myself through all of this because I miss you terribly and I don't want to miss you any more. Maybe this is for the best. I don't want it to be. I don't want Konstantine in your tiny, stifling condo to be my last poignant memory of you. I wanted to have more kisses, more hugs, more morning-afters. But you're making me learn that there won't be any more of those. Not with you, probably not with anyone, for a long, long time.
So if you have anything to say to me, any kind of reply to my email, then I suggest you say it soon.
I need the closure. I'm going crazy and there's only so much more I'm willing to cry over.
That sounds stupid. I'm not the one to be making threats. I have no sway on your heart; I never have.
So what's it going to be?
My entire life is one long, drawn-out Dashboard Confessional song.
And I know that when this all is over, [whenever it's over...] I'll fall right back into the old habits and patterns.
It almost worries me that I'm getting so close to letting it go; does it mean that I was the one doing the deluding?
Did I delude myself into thinking I felt things that weren't actually there? Or am I deluding myself that I am just fine?
This idea, this concept of me not actually feeling anything scares me. If I am [seemingly] able to brush this off so quickly, was I ever actually "in love" in the first place?
Do I really need to validate myself based on whether or not I am attractive to the opposite sex? Unfortunately [and this is a classic [c]S moment, folks] yes, it does seem that way.
Am I now at that point where I'll just move on to the next conquest and once again tell myself that this time, I won't fuck it up, this time it'll actually mean something?
This begs the question: Have I actually ever cared about someone that way? Yes, I've had snit fits after breakups [see Nov.03, Aug.03, Sept.02, May.03, etc], I won't pretend I haven't.
But it feels like the reactions I gave were the reactions that were expected in that situation.
Or maybe I deal with rejection and abandonment in unhealthy ways. This, actually, is probably the better explanation. Instead of dealing with my feelings of worthlessness/rejection/ugliness/etc in a comprehensive, face-foward fashion, I bottle it up until it spills over into angst-ridden posts like the previous one.
This time is especially hard to deal with because of how much of myself I put out there. Emotionally, physically, everything. And now it appears [to me, at least] that none of it mattered in the end. Because in the end, just like every other time, he left anyway and I was left to just deal with it.
I'm torn between three things. One, a desire to just say "fuck you, Will Weldon" and move on with my life and go wherever the fuck I end up. To wipe my slate clean and pretend that he never existed and that I never 'wasted' [whether or not there is truth to that word is left up to the reader, this time] eight months of my life with him. That's my first choice.
My second choice is this: Angstily obsess over the memories him, languishing around in Calgary, hoping against hope that one day he'll miraculously have a change of heart and call me up to tell me that he'll be back in town on the weekend and how would I like to spend some time at his hotel room? And the sad part is, I would probably jump at the chance. It is sad, isn't it. I'm partway in this state right now, not gonna lie. Still hoping that he'll change his mind. Don't know where I'm going to go from here. But I don't want to be waiting by the phone for months on the off-chance he'll even remember my phone number or even consider calling me. Because let's face it, I'm not the kind of person who leaves a lasting positive impression. Consider my track record.
And here's my third choice. Try to shove any unresolved feelings I may have to the side, and try to stay friends with him. This is dangerous, because I could slip very easily into the Obsessive-Neurotic-Pathetic ex-girlfriend archetype. It might be hard to do at first, because I
Well, what am I doing now? In a nutshell, I want him to hate me. If he hates me, things will be that much easier to let go. I made Duncan hate me [somehow...], I made James hate me [see New Years], why the hell can't I make Will hate me? I know he's capable of it--we had enough conversations about Britt for me to figure that out. If he would just fucking hate me, then I could truly say "fuck this, fuck you, and fuck us" and head out into the Brave New World of Singledom©.
So I start pushing away. In the last email I sent him, I brought up the most taboo subject of all: what if you fail? I pushed his buttons [or, at the very least, what i suspect are his buttons]. I've been baiting him in blog entries [subtly, yes, but the intent is there]. I LJ'd the current email exchange [filtered entry, don't bother looking]. Hell, I even bait that hoebag in the hopes of provoking Will into some kind of reaction, some kind of intervention.
That's the kind of person I am. Are you happy? I'm hiding nothing in this post. This is probably the most sincere I've been in a long, long time. And so help me, it feels liberating.
Could you still love me? I doubt it.
Right now, right this very second, I don't know if I still want you to. I hate myself through all of this because I miss you terribly and I don't want to miss you any more. Maybe this is for the best. I don't want it to be. I don't want Konstantine in your tiny, stifling condo to be my last poignant memory of you. I wanted to have more kisses, more hugs, more morning-afters. But you're making me learn that there won't be any more of those. Not with you, probably not with anyone, for a long, long time.
So if you have anything to say to me, any kind of reply to my email, then I suggest you say it soon.
I need the closure. I'm going crazy and there's only so much more I'm willing to cry over.
That sounds stupid. I'm not the one to be making threats. I have no sway on your heart; I never have.
So what's it going to be?
"I never asked for your opinion. I just got it, and I get it."
I don't want to go to class.
I want to go home, put on his sweatshirt, and cry.
I'm not fine, I don't know why I pretended I was fine, I hurt so fucking much right now, and I fucking miss him more than I know I should.
I hate this. I hate that I couldn't change anything that I worked eight months to build. I hate that June and July didn't mean anything in the end. I hate how much this hurts and I hate how deep it goes. I hate how helpless I feel. I hate how alone I am.
I have class. I should go.
I don't want to go to class.
I want to go home, put on his sweatshirt, and cry.
I'm not fine, I don't know why I pretended I was fine, I hurt so fucking much right now, and I fucking miss him more than I know I should.
I hate this. I hate that I couldn't change anything that I worked eight months to build. I hate that June and July didn't mean anything in the end. I hate how much this hurts and I hate how deep it goes. I hate how helpless I feel. I hate how alone I am.
I have class. I should go.
Smoke Baby
Walking to Mel's, I lit up a Colt.
I'd forgotten how delicious the burning felt in the back of my throat. Acrid smoke and warm burning tobacco and paper; even the wine-flavoured plastic tip was welcomed and savoured.
I remember you hated it when I suggested I wanted to smoke cigars.
"I could give you a thousand reasons why I'm better / To hell with you, to hell with you." Thank you, Saves the Day. I'll just take solace in my vices and enjoy the person I don't know if anybody might like. And so, fuck it.
I'll wait for Friday; if anybody has anything pressing, I suggest you get it to me prior to oh, I don't know, 7 PM, let's say. Otherwise, I'm not going to get it done before Monday.
Life is good.
I have a new cell phone; same as Travis, but this one has been christened Tobey.
I have to reprogram my band ring tones later when I get home tonight.
Walking to Mel's, I lit up a Colt.
I'd forgotten how delicious the burning felt in the back of my throat. Acrid smoke and warm burning tobacco and paper; even the wine-flavoured plastic tip was welcomed and savoured.
I remember you hated it when I suggested I wanted to smoke cigars.
"I could give you a thousand reasons why I'm better / To hell with you, to hell with you." Thank you, Saves the Day. I'll just take solace in my vices and enjoy the person I don't know if anybody might like. And so, fuck it.
I'll wait for Friday; if anybody has anything pressing, I suggest you get it to me prior to oh, I don't know, 7 PM, let's say. Otherwise, I'm not going to get it done before Monday.
Life is good.
I have a new cell phone; same as Travis, but this one has been christened Tobey.
I have to reprogram my band ring tones later when I get home tonight.
Only One
Broken this fragile thing now
And I can't, I can't pick up the pieces
And I've thrown my words all around
But I can't, I can't give you a reason
I feel so broken up (so broken up)
And I give up (I give up)
I just want to tell you so you know
Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you
You are my only one
I let go, but there's just no one that gets me like you do
You are my only, my only one
Made my mistakes, let you down
And I can't, I can't hold on for too long
Ran my whole life in the ground
And I can't, I can't get up when you're gone
And something's breaking up (breaking up)
I feel like giving up (like giving up)
I won't walk out until you know
Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you
You are my only one
I let go, but there's just no one that gets me like you do
You are my only my only one
Here I go so dishonestly
Leave a note for you my only one
And I know you can see right through me
So let me go and you will find someone
Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you
You are my only one
I let go, but there's just no one, no one like you
You are my only, my only one
My only one
My only one
My only one
You are my only, my only one
-Yellowcard
I've internalized this now.
And I don't want to say for certain that I'm ok, because I'm not. But whatever he decides, I think I can make it through. I just...worry about him, I guess.
I'll survive. I've always done it before, what's any different about now? It hurts, but haven't I always just ridden the pain anyway?
I don't want to be fine but I think I'm making myself not care anymore.
I just have to wait and see now.
On another note, Sexy Hair Mark is confirmed for Tequila on Friday with me and Mel. Cody might also come. After this weekend, I'm cutting alcohol out of my diet for a while. Just you wait and see.
Broken this fragile thing now
And I can't, I can't pick up the pieces
And I've thrown my words all around
But I can't, I can't give you a reason
I feel so broken up (so broken up)
And I give up (I give up)
I just want to tell you so you know
Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you
You are my only one
I let go, but there's just no one that gets me like you do
You are my only, my only one
Made my mistakes, let you down
And I can't, I can't hold on for too long
Ran my whole life in the ground
And I can't, I can't get up when you're gone
And something's breaking up (breaking up)
I feel like giving up (like giving up)
I won't walk out until you know
Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you
You are my only one
I let go, but there's just no one that gets me like you do
You are my only my only one
Here I go so dishonestly
Leave a note for you my only one
And I know you can see right through me
So let me go and you will find someone
Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you
You are my only one
I let go, but there's just no one, no one like you
You are my only, my only one
My only one
My only one
My only one
You are my only, my only one
-Yellowcard
I've internalized this now.
And I don't want to say for certain that I'm ok, because I'm not. But whatever he decides, I think I can make it through. I just...worry about him, I guess.
I'll survive. I've always done it before, what's any different about now? It hurts, but haven't I always just ridden the pain anyway?
I don't want to be fine but I think I'm making myself not care anymore.
I just have to wait and see now.
On another note, Sexy Hair Mark is confirmed for Tequila on Friday with me and Mel. Cody might also come. After this weekend, I'm cutting alcohol out of my diet for a while. Just you wait and see.
9.14.2004
God bless you Devon.
Lolzilla.
Laughterbation.
My life is now complete.
And I've officially slipped into total nerdom.
I'm going to bed before my beer headache gets any worse.
Lolzilla.
Laughterbation.
My life is now complete.
And I've officially slipped into total nerdom.
I'm going to bed before my beer headache gets any worse.
It is 6 PM, and I'm drunk.
I fucking love having a bar on campus. And I crashed at Mel's for a few hours, but I have no idea how I got here.
I feel awesome and I have grandois schemes for Friday night. I invite you all to come out and booze with me at Tequila on Friday night.
Yes, even you, you whore.
LOLZ.
We're going to Cash Converters. PEACE, Y'ALL.
I fucking love having a bar on campus. And I crashed at Mel's for a few hours, but I have no idea how I got here.
I feel awesome and I have grandois schemes for Friday night. I invite you all to come out and booze with me at Tequila on Friday night.
Yes, even you, you whore.
LOLZ.
We're going to Cash Converters. PEACE, Y'ALL.
BWAH-HAHAHAHA!
Nothing beats a hot shower with Something Corporate playing on your sister's jacked portable stereo.
Except maybe wearing the "I'm A Fox" shirt.
And having a good hair day.
Today's gonna be a good day.
Nothing beats a hot shower with Something Corporate playing on your sister's jacked portable stereo.
Except maybe wearing the "I'm A Fox" shirt.
And having a good hair day.
Today's gonna be a good day.
Fuck it. I'll take a swim tomorrow.
I feel like putting in an effort on my appearance today.
Sorry to torment you all with lyrics, but it's easier for me than writing actual entries.
I have a canker sore [i almost wrote "cancer sore"] in my mouth, the result of chewing on my cheek too much lately.
*worries it with her tongue*
Maddie just came upstairs to say hi and beg me to play with her. How can I refuse that little devil? I'll post a picture or three.
I'm making about 40$ today off the sale of my old, crappy CDs. Hurrah!
Take care of yourselves, everybody.
I feel like putting in an effort on my appearance today.
Sorry to torment you all with lyrics, but it's easier for me than writing actual entries.
I have a canker sore [i almost wrote "cancer sore"] in my mouth, the result of chewing on my cheek too much lately.
*worries it with her tongue*
Maddie just came upstairs to say hi and beg me to play with her. How can I refuse that little devil? I'll post a picture or three.
I'm making about 40$ today off the sale of my old, crappy CDs. Hurrah!
Take care of yourselves, everybody.
Love & Death
I'll make my own way; I'll make my own way
Don't bother counting on me, loving me, just act like I'm gone
Well this sorry joker joke, is all we really need
There's nothing that I need
Too late and too bad, I'm stuck feeling bad
Without you, I'm a mess, without you, you just don't know
This is really not a joke; you're all I really need, you're all I really need
And I'm just so bored of wasting my time
Love and death are always on my mind
And I'm just so sick of wasting my time
Love and death are always on my mind
I'll make my own way; I'll make my own way
Don't bother counting on me, loving me, just act like I'm gone
Well this sorry joker joke, is all we really need
There's nothing that I need
And I'm just so bored of wasting my time
Love and death always on my mind
And I'm just so sick of wasting my time
Love and death always on my mind
-The Stills
I'll make my own way; I'll make my own way
Don't bother counting on me, loving me, just act like I'm gone
Well this sorry joker joke, is all we really need
There's nothing that I need
Too late and too bad, I'm stuck feeling bad
Without you, I'm a mess, without you, you just don't know
This is really not a joke; you're all I really need, you're all I really need
And I'm just so bored of wasting my time
Love and death are always on my mind
And I'm just so sick of wasting my time
Love and death are always on my mind
I'll make my own way; I'll make my own way
Don't bother counting on me, loving me, just act like I'm gone
Well this sorry joker joke, is all we really need
There's nothing that I need
And I'm just so bored of wasting my time
Love and death always on my mind
And I'm just so sick of wasting my time
Love and death always on my mind
-The Stills
9.13.2004
Never Gonna Get It Right, You're Never Gonna Get It
I love this song. Have so for a long time now.
Jude Law And A Semester Abroad. By Brand New. Rocking my socks, actually.
Did I already talk about my workout today? I think so.
I'm going to school early tomorrow and swimming for a while, then to the Liberty for a pint or two with Pat, etc.
I might not go to Anthropology again. Tsk tsk.
And I missed Sociology because I thought it started at 3:30. Nope, started at 3. So I went to the mall and applied for jobs instead.
Not saying where, because I'd rather not jinx it.
Wow, and my inability to have long-term relationships has mysteriously extended into the other man in my life, Travis The Cell Phone.
It's been acting weird all weekend. It drops calls, has "no service" all the time, and EATS the battery. I charged it Sunday morning. It's down to one bar right now. And I've made 5 one-minute calls on it since Sunday, and had no incoming ones.
Usually it takes three days to get down there. Obviously something's wrong with it.
So now this horrible piece of crap is what will [most likely] be replacing my gorgeous baby Travis. Arg, it's almost as ugly as Skanky McSkankerson, hey MF? [OMG inside joke :) lollercoaster!]
Actually, remembering that delightful Hello conversation makes me giggle. Or at the very least blow air through my nose in typical Renegade-amusement-fashion.
I really want to call MF, but she probably won't be home until 10:15 because she rode her bike to Zellers. :(. HEART HEART HEART. [CALL ME YA DOUCHE.]
Going to Black's tomorrow to get 60 photos printed off at a 40% discount, courtesy of LC.
I found the frames I had in mind. I made a deal with the guy that if I order 60, he'll give them to me for the sale price of 7.75 each, instead of 12.99 like they're back up to tomorrow. But still, that's.... 7.75 x 60 = 465.00 * 1.07 [GST, fuckers] = 497.55.
I don't know if my project is that valuable to me. What if I managed to narrow it down to, say 50 photos? Still a price of 414.63, a difference of 82.92, which should cover the cost of actually printing the photos.
Maybe I can get larger black frames, like 5 or 6 of them, and arrange the photos in those. See, the frames can't have any matting on the backs. Has to be clear. Just black border, should be able to see the wall behind it. Photo size will be 5 x 7. And I'm hoping they've got better quality printers than mine at home, which sucks donkey dick for bus fare and walks home.
Jesus, who was I with when that came up?
I really, really need a job. Hopefully Shoppers calls me back.
At the very least, I need to pay off my Visa. Then get started on my wall-mural-cum-photo-whore-exhibition. Oh man, it's going to be sweet when it's done.
See? If I have a project to take my mind off of....well, you know....it doesn't seem as painful. Hence the workouts. Hence the job search. Hence the blog entry. Hence the photo project. Hence the drinking. Hence the pretention.
I want to go to Tequila this weekend. And I got my VIP pass back on Friday, so someone can be my guest. Oh, hell, I'll probably just go with MF and get shitfaced and stumble into a cab, hand the cabbie my ID, then collapse into bed and wake up naked like last weekend.
That doesn't mean this still doesn't suck. I'm just getting more Novocain into me.
Oh, I'm so poetic/pathetic. Too bad I wasn't enough for you.
Stone cold fox. I swear to God, that's all I'll be from now on. I have a suspicion that it'll be easier that way.
I'm going to watch TV and finalize what CD's I'm pawning off tomorrow.
I shit you not, I'm selling a bunch.
No guitar for sale yet. But I figured the package could go for 300-350. FYI.
Holy crap, that's the longest low-angst entry I've written in some time.
Be proud of me, I guess.
I love this song. Have so for a long time now.
Jude Law And A Semester Abroad. By Brand New. Rocking my socks, actually.
Did I already talk about my workout today? I think so.
I'm going to school early tomorrow and swimming for a while, then to the Liberty for a pint or two with Pat, etc.
I might not go to Anthropology again. Tsk tsk.
And I missed Sociology because I thought it started at 3:30. Nope, started at 3. So I went to the mall and applied for jobs instead.
Not saying where, because I'd rather not jinx it.
Wow, and my inability to have long-term relationships has mysteriously extended into the other man in my life, Travis The Cell Phone.
It's been acting weird all weekend. It drops calls, has "no service" all the time, and EATS the battery. I charged it Sunday morning. It's down to one bar right now. And I've made 5 one-minute calls on it since Sunday, and had no incoming ones.
Usually it takes three days to get down there. Obviously something's wrong with it.
So now this horrible piece of crap is what will [most likely] be replacing my gorgeous baby Travis. Arg, it's almost as ugly as Skanky McSkankerson, hey MF? [OMG inside joke :) lollercoaster!]
Actually, remembering that delightful Hello conversation makes me giggle. Or at the very least blow air through my nose in typical Renegade-amusement-fashion.
I really want to call MF, but she probably won't be home until 10:15 because she rode her bike to Zellers. :(. HEART HEART HEART. [CALL ME YA DOUCHE.]
Going to Black's tomorrow to get 60 photos printed off at a 40% discount, courtesy of LC.
I found the frames I had in mind. I made a deal with the guy that if I order 60, he'll give them to me for the sale price of 7.75 each, instead of 12.99 like they're back up to tomorrow. But still, that's.... 7.75 x 60 = 465.00 * 1.07 [GST, fuckers] = 497.55.
I don't know if my project is that valuable to me. What if I managed to narrow it down to, say 50 photos? Still a price of 414.63, a difference of 82.92, which should cover the cost of actually printing the photos.
Maybe I can get larger black frames, like 5 or 6 of them, and arrange the photos in those. See, the frames can't have any matting on the backs. Has to be clear. Just black border, should be able to see the wall behind it. Photo size will be 5 x 7. And I'm hoping they've got better quality printers than mine at home, which sucks donkey dick for bus fare and walks home.
Jesus, who was I with when that came up?
I really, really need a job. Hopefully Shoppers calls me back.
At the very least, I need to pay off my Visa. Then get started on my wall-mural-cum-photo-whore-exhibition. Oh man, it's going to be sweet when it's done.
See? If I have a project to take my mind off of....well, you know....it doesn't seem as painful. Hence the workouts. Hence the job search. Hence the blog entry. Hence the photo project. Hence the drinking. Hence the pretention.
I want to go to Tequila this weekend. And I got my VIP pass back on Friday, so someone can be my guest. Oh, hell, I'll probably just go with MF and get shitfaced and stumble into a cab, hand the cabbie my ID, then collapse into bed and wake up naked like last weekend.
That doesn't mean this still doesn't suck. I'm just getting more Novocain into me.
Oh, I'm so poetic/pathetic. Too bad I wasn't enough for you.
Stone cold fox. I swear to God, that's all I'll be from now on. I have a suspicion that it'll be easier that way.
I'm going to watch TV and finalize what CD's I'm pawning off tomorrow.
I shit you not, I'm selling a bunch.
No guitar for sale yet. But I figured the package could go for 300-350. FYI.
Holy crap, that's the longest low-angst entry I've written in some time.
Be proud of me, I guess.
Trevor, I was all over the Matt Good concert in the Calgarians LJ comm. But yes, we are going, and it will be grand.
I had lunch with Joe today, and we talked.
About the recent events, basically.
And after we were done, I went to the upper level of the gym and worked out until I could barely walk, because it made me feel better and it made me feel clean.
It made me feel like even if I can't make him change his mind, I can change myself so this never happens again. If I can't fix this, I'll fix myself, and I'll make it so I'm too strong to get hurt like this again.
I just want things to be back to the way they used to be.
I want to have that certainty about my future again. I want to feel like I'm in control, like I know what I'm doing. Basically, I want to feel everything except the way I feel right now.
This situation, for lack of a better word, sucks. It just....sucks.
I just want to...
Fuck.
I don't know what I want anymore.
I had lunch with Joe today, and we talked.
About the recent events, basically.
And after we were done, I went to the upper level of the gym and worked out until I could barely walk, because it made me feel better and it made me feel clean.
It made me feel like even if I can't make him change his mind, I can change myself so this never happens again. If I can't fix this, I'll fix myself, and I'll make it so I'm too strong to get hurt like this again.
I just want things to be back to the way they used to be.
I want to have that certainty about my future again. I want to feel like I'm in control, like I know what I'm doing. Basically, I want to feel everything except the way I feel right now.
This situation, for lack of a better word, sucks. It just....sucks.
I just want to...
Fuck.
I don't know what I want anymore.
Play Crack The Sky
We sent out the SOS call.
It was a quarter past four in the morning
When the storm broke our second anchor line.
Four months at sea, four months of calm seas
Only to be pounded in the shallows off the tip of Montauk Point.
They call them rogues, they travel fast and alone.
One hundred foot faces of God's good ocean gone wrong.
What they call "love" is a risk,
Cause you will always get hit out of nowhere
By some wave, and end up on your own.
The hole in the hull defied the crew's attempts to bail us out.
And flooded the engines and radio and half buried bow.
Your tongue is a rudder. It steers the whole ship.
Sends your words past your lips,
Or keeps them safe behind your teeth.
But the wrong words will strand you.
Come off course while you sleep.
Sweep your boat out to sea or dashed to bits on the reef.
The vessel groans the ocean pressures its frame.
Off the port I see the lighthouse through the sleet and rain.
And I wish for one more day to give my love and repay debts.
But the morning finds our bodies washed up thirty miles west.
They say that the captain stays fast with the ship
Through still and storm.
But this ain't the Dakota, and the water is cold.
We won't have to fight for long.
This is the end.
This story's old but it goes on and on until we dissappear.
Calm me and let me taste the salt you breathed
While you were underneath.
I am the one who haunts your dreams of
Mountains sunk below the sea.
I spoke the words but never gave a thought
To what they all could mean.
I know that this is what you want.
A funeral keeps both of us apart.
You know that you are not alone.
Need you like water in my lungs.
This is the end.
-Brand New
We sent out the SOS call.
It was a quarter past four in the morning
When the storm broke our second anchor line.
Four months at sea, four months of calm seas
Only to be pounded in the shallows off the tip of Montauk Point.
They call them rogues, they travel fast and alone.
One hundred foot faces of God's good ocean gone wrong.
What they call "love" is a risk,
Cause you will always get hit out of nowhere
By some wave, and end up on your own.
The hole in the hull defied the crew's attempts to bail us out.
And flooded the engines and radio and half buried bow.
Your tongue is a rudder. It steers the whole ship.
Sends your words past your lips,
Or keeps them safe behind your teeth.
But the wrong words will strand you.
Come off course while you sleep.
Sweep your boat out to sea or dashed to bits on the reef.
The vessel groans the ocean pressures its frame.
Off the port I see the lighthouse through the sleet and rain.
And I wish for one more day to give my love and repay debts.
But the morning finds our bodies washed up thirty miles west.
They say that the captain stays fast with the ship
Through still and storm.
But this ain't the Dakota, and the water is cold.
We won't have to fight for long.
This is the end.
This story's old but it goes on and on until we dissappear.
Calm me and let me taste the salt you breathed
While you were underneath.
I am the one who haunts your dreams of
Mountains sunk below the sea.
I spoke the words but never gave a thought
To what they all could mean.
I know that this is what you want.
A funeral keeps both of us apart.
You know that you are not alone.
Need you like water in my lungs.
This is the end.
-Brand New
9.12.2004
I am so unbelieveably angry right now.
No, it's not what you might expect.
I'm seething.
I'm leaving before this gets any worse.
No, it's not what you might expect.
I'm seething.
I'm leaving before this gets any worse.
A Year From Now
In complete and total adoration
My gift to you, my heart was yours
Ten weeks you shaped it in one night you murdered it
Torn from my chest I'm layed at your feet
That first step you took was the worst
Since then you've walked a thousand miles
In silence short of a mark I still have these memories
But we will never see what we could have been
Remember when we talked about where we'd be a year from now
Remember when you held my hand like you'd never let it go
Rememeber cause that's all you can do
We'll never make another memory
We'll never make another memory
I wish I would have died in your arms the last time we were together
So I wouldn't have to wait without you today
This time I thought things were real
You said they were, what happend?
You were a priority, I was an option
I let you see a side of me I don't share with anyone
Promises are just words unless they are fulfilled
You knew form the beginning all I had to offer you was my heart
I'm sorry that wasn't enough
So we will go our own ways and
Hopefully you will remember the things I told you
Hopefully you'll understand that everything I said was in sincerity
A broken heart is not what I wanted from this
But I guess I've learned from this
But aren't you supposed to learn from your mistakes?
I don't consider this a mistake
I just wish the story didn't end this way
'Cause I'm still in love with the person helped me write it
Remember when you held my hand like you'd never let it go
Remember when we talked of where we'd be a year from now
-Across Five Aprils
Thanks again, Mel.
In complete and total adoration
My gift to you, my heart was yours
Ten weeks you shaped it in one night you murdered it
Torn from my chest I'm layed at your feet
That first step you took was the worst
Since then you've walked a thousand miles
In silence short of a mark I still have these memories
But we will never see what we could have been
Remember when we talked about where we'd be a year from now
Remember when you held my hand like you'd never let it go
Rememeber cause that's all you can do
We'll never make another memory
We'll never make another memory
I wish I would have died in your arms the last time we were together
So I wouldn't have to wait without you today
This time I thought things were real
You said they were, what happend?
You were a priority, I was an option
I let you see a side of me I don't share with anyone
Promises are just words unless they are fulfilled
You knew form the beginning all I had to offer you was my heart
I'm sorry that wasn't enough
So we will go our own ways and
Hopefully you will remember the things I told you
Hopefully you'll understand that everything I said was in sincerity
A broken heart is not what I wanted from this
But I guess I've learned from this
But aren't you supposed to learn from your mistakes?
I don't consider this a mistake
I just wish the story didn't end this way
'Cause I'm still in love with the person helped me write it
Remember when you held my hand like you'd never let it go
Remember when we talked of where we'd be a year from now
-Across Five Aprils
Thanks again, Mel.
9.11.2004
Rapid Hope Loss
You called to say you wanted out.
Well, I can't say I blame you now.
Sometimes you've got to fold
Before you're found out.
Well thanks for waiting this long to show yourself.
Cause now that I can see you,
I don't think you're worth a second glance.
So much for all the promises you made, they served you well
And now you're gone and they're wasted on me.
So much for your endearing sense of charm, it served you well
And now it's gone and you're wasted on me.
You called to say you wanted out.
Well, I can't say I blame you now.
Sometimes you've got to fold
Before you're found out.
Well thanks, thanks for waiting this long to show yourself, show yourself.
Cause now that I can see you,
I don't think you're worth a second glance.
So much for all the promises you made, they served you well
And now you're gone and they're wasted on me.
So much for your endearing sense of charm, it served you well
And now it's gone and you're wasted on me.
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get,
So much for so much more
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get,
So much for so much more
Do what you must if that's what you wish,
I can't be a pardon to this
You have a sense that you were born with
You'll find a way to make things right.
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get.
So much for so much more
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get.
So much for so much more
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get.
So much for so much more
-Dashboard Confessional
[I wanted to bold the entire song. Thank you, Chris.]
You called to say you wanted out.
Well, I can't say I blame you now.
Sometimes you've got to fold
Before you're found out.
Well thanks for waiting this long to show yourself.
Cause now that I can see you,
I don't think you're worth a second glance.
So much for all the promises you made, they served you well
And now you're gone and they're wasted on me.
So much for your endearing sense of charm, it served you well
And now it's gone and you're wasted on me.
You called to say you wanted out.
Well, I can't say I blame you now.
Sometimes you've got to fold
Before you're found out.
Well thanks, thanks for waiting this long to show yourself, show yourself.
Cause now that I can see you,
I don't think you're worth a second glance.
So much for all the promises you made, they served you well
And now you're gone and they're wasted on me.
So much for your endearing sense of charm, it served you well
And now it's gone and you're wasted on me.
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get,
So much for so much more
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get,
So much for so much more
Do what you must if that's what you wish,
I can't be a pardon to this
You have a sense that you were born with
You'll find a way to make things right.
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get.
So much for so much more
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get.
So much for so much more
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna get.
So much for so much more
-Dashboard Confessional
[I wanted to bold the entire song. Thank you, Chris.]
I can't eat.
I can't sleep.
I can't cry.
I can't listen to music.
I can't look at my photos.
I can't think.
Or maybe I should be saying, "I don't want to..."
I feel sick to my stomach and my teeth don't feel like they belong in my mouth.
My eyes are tired and itchy and red.
How did I become such a public, private person? How did I get into this awful cycle of elation and heartbreak and how the hell did I get so comfortable with pouring my heart out on the internet?
My throat keeps wanting to throw up the chicken noodle soup my mom made for me--the only thing I've eaten all day.
And I really, truly, just want to crawl under a rock.
Wondering if he even read the email I wrote him. Wondering if he's even going to care.
Given the past 25 hours, I highly doubt it.
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
Why can't I just be happy?
I can't sleep.
I can't cry.
I can't listen to music.
I can't look at my photos.
I can't think.
Or maybe I should be saying, "I don't want to..."
I feel sick to my stomach and my teeth don't feel like they belong in my mouth.
My eyes are tired and itchy and red.
How did I become such a public, private person? How did I get into this awful cycle of elation and heartbreak and how the hell did I get so comfortable with pouring my heart out on the internet?
My throat keeps wanting to throw up the chicken noodle soup my mom made for me--the only thing I've eaten all day.
And I really, truly, just want to crawl under a rock.
Wondering if he even read the email I wrote him. Wondering if he's even going to care.
Given the past 25 hours, I highly doubt it.
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
Why can't I just be happy?
Ashes
It just occurred to me.
Do I sell the guitar?
We never figured that out before last night.
What do I do with his CDs? His sweatshirt? His pictures?
What will he do with his ring? My Final Fantasy X-2? The stuffed Maddie?
I'll always wonder what happened after he hung up on me.
Did he throw out the CDs I burned him? Will he ever think of me when he watches Transformers?
I don't know what to do now.
Do I go to law school? Lethbridge? Saskatchewan? Toronto, anyway?
Am I ever going to send him the "I Miss You" card I bought before he went away? Will we ever talk again?
Will I ever see him again? Will I ever sort this out?
What happens now?
It just occurred to me.
Do I sell the guitar?
We never figured that out before last night.
What do I do with his CDs? His sweatshirt? His pictures?
What will he do with his ring? My Final Fantasy X-2? The stuffed Maddie?
I'll always wonder what happened after he hung up on me.
Did he throw out the CDs I burned him? Will he ever think of me when he watches Transformers?
I don't know what to do now.
Do I go to law school? Lethbridge? Saskatchewan? Toronto, anyway?
Am I ever going to send him the "I Miss You" card I bought before he went away? Will we ever talk again?
Will I ever see him again? Will I ever sort this out?
What happens now?
Cheek To Cheek
Bound to say something, eyes closed,
It's cold, and I'm home
I feel like nothing again,
Pretending not to care, but I care,
And I care, don't say another word
Our time was worthless, but I tried
We started over and over again, as we let go
Held each other, held hands,
Held standards and grudges
That's when I let you know,
I guess that goes to show
Just what I've been going through,
More nights of hugging my pillow, oh
Replaying memories
Sing this song for me;
Tell me how you'll never leave my side
"I'll meet you at 7",
"I miss you already", goodbye to you,
The last goodbye I'll ever say to you
Our time was worthless, but I tried
We started over and over again, as we let go
Held each other, held hands,
held standards and grudges
That's when I let you know,
I guess that goes to show
Sing this song for me;
Tell me how you'll never leave my side
I'll meet you at 7,
I miss you already, goodbye to you,
The last goodbye I'll ever say to you
And I tried so hard,
And I've done my part,
And not to mention most to all of yours
Try and feel,
Try and listen,
Try and think of what you're missing,
Try to look into my eyes.
TRY
Goodbye
Sing this song for me;
Tell me how you'll never leave my side
I'll meet you at 7,
I miss you already, goodbye to you.
The last goodbye I'll ever say to you.
You'll never leave my side.
-The Starting Line
Funny how this band has had a song for every major breakup.
Bound to say something, eyes closed,
It's cold, and I'm home
I feel like nothing again,
Pretending not to care, but I care,
And I care, don't say another word
Our time was worthless, but I tried
We started over and over again, as we let go
Held each other, held hands,
Held standards and grudges
That's when I let you know,
I guess that goes to show
Just what I've been going through,
More nights of hugging my pillow, oh
Replaying memories
Sing this song for me;
Tell me how you'll never leave my side
"I'll meet you at 7",
"I miss you already", goodbye to you,
The last goodbye I'll ever say to you
Our time was worthless, but I tried
We started over and over again, as we let go
Held each other, held hands,
held standards and grudges
That's when I let you know,
I guess that goes to show
Sing this song for me;
Tell me how you'll never leave my side
I'll meet you at 7,
I miss you already, goodbye to you,
The last goodbye I'll ever say to you
And I tried so hard,
And I've done my part,
And not to mention most to all of yours
Try and feel,
Try and listen,
Try and think of what you're missing,
Try to look into my eyes.
TRY
Goodbye
Sing this song for me;
Tell me how you'll never leave my side
I'll meet you at 7,
I miss you already, goodbye to you.
The last goodbye I'll ever say to you.
You'll never leave my side.
-The Starting Line
Funny how this band has had a song for every major breakup.
9.10.2004
He's.....gone. Just....gone.
I can't believe how much it hurts this time.
I don't ever want to breathe again.
I can't believe how much it hurts this time.
I don't ever want to breathe again.
JESUS CHRIST.
No less than 75% of my hits today were from someone [several someones?] searching for "Salinger lass".
THE ANSWER IS "ESME".
I don't know why.
THERE.
No less than 75% of my hits today were from someone [several someones?] searching for "Salinger lass".
THE ANSWER IS "ESME".
I don't know why.
THERE.
Paint The World In Red And Broken Glass
So no bikes for me today. I forgot my running shoes...
I did 30 laps and 8 minutes of treading water. Yay for 750 metres!
I'll go for 34 and 10 on Monday.
And 15 minutes on the ellipticle bike, then 15 minutes on the regular bike. Rest, repeat.
Tendonitis sucks ass.
I'm really limited in the physical exercise I can do - whatever I end up doing has to be low-impact to minimize the effect on my knee. So no running, no speed walking.
And I hate weight rooms. Hate them.
Although I should really start doing crunchies. My arms/legs are going to get pounded by swimming, but I don't do anything for my stomach. Must start working on that.
Oh, by the way, my Hello name is skilly86, incase any of you have the program and want to add me to your buddy lists.
I had a good day. I forgot the old addage about exercise releasing endorphins and making you feel good. So true. I felt awesome after I was done today.
Although, that's no necessarily true. Some people are still cunts after exercising, so all the more pity for them. I shed an emo tear for you.
:'(
Going to Limerick's tonight for Melissa's birthday celebrations. Hurrah for being poor already!
Need a job need a job need a job need a job.
Calling Will in an hour calling Will in an hour calling Will in an hour YAY!
My parents went to IKEA to get the missing piece for my desk.
Hurrah, I'm spending my weekend indoors and studying!
Woo!
Celebrate!
So no bikes for me today. I forgot my running shoes...
I did 30 laps and 8 minutes of treading water. Yay for 750 metres!
I'll go for 34 and 10 on Monday.
And 15 minutes on the ellipticle bike, then 15 minutes on the regular bike. Rest, repeat.
Tendonitis sucks ass.
I'm really limited in the physical exercise I can do - whatever I end up doing has to be low-impact to minimize the effect on my knee. So no running, no speed walking.
And I hate weight rooms. Hate them.
Although I should really start doing crunchies. My arms/legs are going to get pounded by swimming, but I don't do anything for my stomach. Must start working on that.
Oh, by the way, my Hello name is skilly86, incase any of you have the program and want to add me to your buddy lists.
I had a good day. I forgot the old addage about exercise releasing endorphins and making you feel good. So true. I felt awesome after I was done today.
Although, that's no necessarily true. Some people are still cunts after exercising, so all the more pity for them. I shed an emo tear for you.
:'(
Going to Limerick's tonight for Melissa's birthday celebrations. Hurrah for being poor already!
Need a job need a job need a job need a job.
Calling Will in an hour calling Will in an hour calling Will in an hour YAY!
My parents went to IKEA to get the missing piece for my desk.
Hurrah, I'm spending my weekend indoors and studying!
Woo!
Celebrate!
Excellent.
I'm gonna use the elliptacle bikes today.
And swim 30 laps.
All before Psych.
I love my life.
I'm gonna use the elliptacle bikes today.
And swim 30 laps.
All before Psych.
I love my life.
9.09.2004
Fascinating...
Y'know what I just realised?
I have a great ass.
Might not sound like a big deal, but I'm quite thrilled.
Y'know what I just realised?
I have a great ass.
Might not sound like a big deal, but I'm quite thrilled.
Please Bleed
Make me feel like a beggar
Make me feel like a thief
Make me feel like a battle, that cannot end in peace
Make me feel like running, as if I've lost my nerve
Make me feel like crying, tears I don't deserve
Please bleed
So I know that you are real
So I know that you can feel
The damage that you've done
Who have I become
To myself I am none
I am none
I am none
Is this really living sometimes it's hard to tell
Or is this a kind of gentler hell
Turn out the lights
And let me stare into your soul
I was born and bled for you old
Please bleed
So I know that you are real
So I know that you can feel
The damage that you've done
Who have I become
To myself I am none
I am none
I am none
Never said thank you
Never said please
Never gave reason to believe
So as it stands
I remain on my knees
Good lovers make great enemies
Please bleed
So I know that you are real
So I know that you can feel
The damage that you've done
Who have I become
To myself I am none
I am none
I am none
Please bleed
So I know that you are real
So I know that you can feel
The damage that you've done
Who have I become
To myself I am none
I am none
I am none
-Ben Harper
Make me feel like a beggar
Make me feel like a thief
Make me feel like a battle, that cannot end in peace
Make me feel like running, as if I've lost my nerve
Make me feel like crying, tears I don't deserve
Please bleed
So I know that you are real
So I know that you can feel
The damage that you've done
Who have I become
To myself I am none
I am none
I am none
Is this really living sometimes it's hard to tell
Or is this a kind of gentler hell
Turn out the lights
And let me stare into your soul
I was born and bled for you old
Please bleed
So I know that you are real
So I know that you can feel
The damage that you've done
Who have I become
To myself I am none
I am none
I am none
Never said thank you
Never said please
Never gave reason to believe
So as it stands
I remain on my knees
Good lovers make great enemies
Please bleed
So I know that you are real
So I know that you can feel
The damage that you've done
Who have I become
To myself I am none
I am none
I am none
Please bleed
So I know that you are real
So I know that you can feel
The damage that you've done
Who have I become
To myself I am none
I am none
I am none
-Ben Harper
I Saw Your Face Before It Changed
I tried to update yesterday, I really did.
Swam 28 laps in the pool, which worked out to about 700 metres.
God, it felt good. I'd forgotten what a joy it is to just swim. I mean...I hit the water...I did a lap...and I was hooked.
I'd forgotten how I love the resistance of the water and how god-damn cool it feels to push off of the wall and just shoot through the water.
And I figured out that I could concentrate on just my arms or just my legs. To render my legs inoperable, I used two cylinders of foamcore strung together and held between my thighs. Whoo, my arms hated me.
To isolate the legs, I'd just use a flutterboard, then work on my form for the whipkick and sidestroke.
It was really relaxing. I'm so glad MRC has the pool--it was a great way to unwind from this week.
Anyway.
I think I'm going to make a quick post in SFA, too. Just because it's been devoid of anything except a rage-filled post from last month.
Gotta be at school by 12:30 to see Pat.
I feel good about myself, I think.
That's a nice change.
I tried to update yesterday, I really did.
Swam 28 laps in the pool, which worked out to about 700 metres.
God, it felt good. I'd forgotten what a joy it is to just swim. I mean...I hit the water...I did a lap...and I was hooked.
I'd forgotten how I love the resistance of the water and how god-damn cool it feels to push off of the wall and just shoot through the water.
And I figured out that I could concentrate on just my arms or just my legs. To render my legs inoperable, I used two cylinders of foamcore strung together and held between my thighs. Whoo, my arms hated me.
To isolate the legs, I'd just use a flutterboard, then work on my form for the whipkick and sidestroke.
It was really relaxing. I'm so glad MRC has the pool--it was a great way to unwind from this week.
Anyway.
I think I'm going to make a quick post in SFA, too. Just because it's been devoid of anything except a rage-filled post from last month.
Gotta be at school by 12:30 to see Pat.
I feel good about myself, I think.
That's a nice change.
9.08.2004
Summer Eyes
I'm having a good day today.
Weird, I know.
Library's too open for traditional blogging.
I'll get to work on my resume instead.
I'm having a good day today.
Weird, I know.
Library's too open for traditional blogging.
I'll get to work on my resume instead.
9.07.2004
Crap.
So I'm sitting on the train, reading a book, almost at Chinook when I decide to highlight a meaningful passage in the book.
I'll just reach into my binder and.....
Fuck.
Where's my binder? My Anthropology books?!
Bus? No...
Fuck.
At home.
ON MY BED.
So now I can't go to class because I have no books and there's no way I can get back to class for 3:30. I just came home and now I'm going to go hide somewhere so my mom doesn't know I just skipped my very first college course.
Good thing I have class again on Thursday.
Oi.
So I'm sitting on the train, reading a book, almost at Chinook when I decide to highlight a meaningful passage in the book.
I'll just reach into my binder and.....
Fuck.
Where's my binder? My Anthropology books?!
Bus? No...
Fuck.
At home.
ON MY BED.
So now I can't go to class because I have no books and there's no way I can get back to class for 3:30. I just came home and now I'm going to go hide somewhere so my mom doesn't know I just skipped my very first college course.
Good thing I have class again on Thursday.
Oi.
Cancer, Schmancer.
Good morning, bitches!
Hope you enjoyed my photo account of my fantastic day yesterday. I didn't post all of the pictures, by any means.
I ended up with a pair of jeans [43$], a military-patterned belt [6$], "Another Year On The Streets: Volume 3" [12$], and my "I *heart* MY BLOG" shirt [20$].
All in all, a good day and a good haul.
Mel was a blast to hang out with, as always. We got a lot of cool shots and had a ball with the "Scene Points".
Bah-ha.
This morning was just as hilarious, actually. Thank you for that. Moron.
In other news, I have class at 3:30.
That's about it for "other news". Enjoy your day, and check out the photos.
Good morning, bitches!
Hope you enjoyed my photo account of my fantastic day yesterday. I didn't post all of the pictures, by any means.
I ended up with a pair of jeans [43$], a military-patterned belt [6$], "Another Year On The Streets: Volume 3" [12$], and my "I *heart* MY BLOG" shirt [20$].
All in all, a good day and a good haul.
Mel was a blast to hang out with, as always. We got a lot of cool shots and had a ball with the "Scene Points".
Bah-ha.
This morning was just as hilarious, actually. Thank you for that. Moron.
In other news, I have class at 3:30.
That's about it for "other news". Enjoy your day, and check out the photos.
-20 Scene Points for being thirteen. +5 Scene Points for having a red vinyl track jacket, Boy On The Left.
The sign in the window reads, "This Monkey's gone to heaven". I think it refers to the closed-down store behind the brown paper.
They had an entire room of vinyl. It smelled like my childhood - my dad used to have boxes and boxes of old vinyl records.
God, it was like heaven in there. [We also went to an army surplus store, but I didn't get any good photos from there.]
Bookshelves in Fair's Fair, where we killed some time and I bought an EMO AND INTELLECTUAL BOOK OH NOES!
9.05.2004
NO WAY
I just found out that I CAN make money by blogging!
Check these out:
AdSense - Blogger's explanation.
AdSense - Google's explanation.
So basically, I put the ad code on my blog. Google automatically runs a search of the latest entries and posts textual or visual ads [my choice - i'll probably go textual] on my blog. Then people click on the ads that they're interested in.
Then Google sends me a cheque based on the clicks and time spent on pages.
My page has to have a "background check" first - they read my blog to see if it qualifies for the program.
One catch - they dispense the cheques in US funds...no word yet on if Canadians can participate. I think so, though.
I'm interested in your input. So...
Would you object to having textual ads on [c]S? Do you think they would enhance or hinder your blog experience?
I'm not saying that this blog would qualify [I doubt it, anyway]. But if I get a favourable response to this, then I might pursue this account.
So let me know. Leave a comment, sign the guestbook [links in lower-left sidebar], or send an email to the_phpto_renegade@hotmail.com with the phrase "CS feedback" in the subject line so you're not mistaken for porn.
What do you think?
I just found out that I CAN make money by blogging!
Check these out:
AdSense - Blogger's explanation.
AdSense - Google's explanation.
So basically, I put the ad code on my blog. Google automatically runs a search of the latest entries and posts textual or visual ads [my choice - i'll probably go textual] on my blog. Then people click on the ads that they're interested in.
Then Google sends me a cheque based on the clicks and time spent on pages.
My page has to have a "background check" first - they read my blog to see if it qualifies for the program.
One catch - they dispense the cheques in US funds...no word yet on if Canadians can participate. I think so, though.
I'm interested in your input. So...
Would you object to having textual ads on [c]S? Do you think they would enhance or hinder your blog experience?
I'm not saying that this blog would qualify [I doubt it, anyway]. But if I get a favourable response to this, then I might pursue this account.
So let me know. Leave a comment, sign the guestbook [links in lower-left sidebar], or send an email to the_phpto_renegade@hotmail.com with the phrase "CS feedback" in the subject line so you're not mistaken for porn.
What do you think?
Paris In Flames
Thursday is awesome.
I'm still feeling Friday Night.
I'm almost a little worried - I've never felt this sick to my stomach for so long after the ordeal. I barely ate anything yesterday besides some beef jerkey with Mel and breakfast. I'm still queasy right now.
Will wasn't too impressed with the binge-drinking, either.
However, in my defense, I don't think I'll be doing that for awhile.
Urg.
So my desk...well, I want to set it up...but of course, since it's IKEA, it's missing a piece.
OK, that's not totally true. The pieces were all there....it's just that the screw for the bottom [ie the peg that the desk sits on. there's 4 of them. i don't know how else to explain this] wasn't....spiralled, like normal screws.
It was cut straight around. Like in circles, not spirals. So it wouldn't screw into the desk.
SOOOOOOO.....now we have to drive all the way back to IKEA and ask them for the piece, then drive all the way back home, then hoist the desk up on one side so we can screw the peg into it.
On a bonus note, I might be getting the Grey Mass [the old computer] in my room. Dad wants to clean up the hard drive and install Windows XP on it, then Dellbert [new computer] and the Grey Mass can talk and print off the same hi-tech photo/scanner/printer.
I love technology.
And I'm such a nerd.
Mel and I are going on a photo-spree tomorrow, back to Fort Calgary and such to retake pictures of the awesome drunk night we had there. We'll probably go to the Hose & Hound, have a pint, then wander down to that record store in Inglewood.
Or just go to 17th Avenue. We haven't decided.
We're chatting on Hello right now, and sharing pictures from the weekend.
Well, I'd better wrap this thing up and get started on my Anthropology readings.
Ciao baby.
Thursday is awesome.
I'm still feeling Friday Night.
I'm almost a little worried - I've never felt this sick to my stomach for so long after the ordeal. I barely ate anything yesterday besides some beef jerkey with Mel and breakfast. I'm still queasy right now.
Will wasn't too impressed with the binge-drinking, either.
However, in my defense, I don't think I'll be doing that for awhile.
Urg.
So my desk...well, I want to set it up...but of course, since it's IKEA, it's missing a piece.
OK, that's not totally true. The pieces were all there....it's just that the screw for the bottom [ie the peg that the desk sits on. there's 4 of them. i don't know how else to explain this] wasn't....spiralled, like normal screws.
It was cut straight around. Like in circles, not spirals. So it wouldn't screw into the desk.
SOOOOOOO.....now we have to drive all the way back to IKEA and ask them for the piece, then drive all the way back home, then hoist the desk up on one side so we can screw the peg into it.
On a bonus note, I might be getting the Grey Mass [the old computer] in my room. Dad wants to clean up the hard drive and install Windows XP on it, then Dellbert [new computer] and the Grey Mass can talk and print off the same hi-tech photo/scanner/printer.
I love technology.
And I'm such a nerd.
Mel and I are going on a photo-spree tomorrow, back to Fort Calgary and such to retake pictures of the awesome drunk night we had there. We'll probably go to the Hose & Hound, have a pint, then wander down to that record store in Inglewood.
Or just go to 17th Avenue. We haven't decided.
We're chatting on Hello right now, and sharing pictures from the weekend.
Well, I'd better wrap this thing up and get started on my Anthropology readings.
Ciao baby.
9.04.2004
This is my dad reading the instructions on how to put this desk together....we finished at 10:30, and started at 8:45. He's scratching his nose, by the way.
I really and truly hate being hungover.
The smell of chili from downstairs is making me want to puke.
Urgle.
I think I'll email my snookums and send him e-cuddles.
I miss cuddling most of all.
OK, well, not "most of all"....but in the top five things.
RUV RUV RUV.
The smell of chili from downstairs is making me want to puke.
Urgle.
I think I'll email my snookums and send him e-cuddles.
I miss cuddling most of all.
OK, well, not "most of all"....but in the top five things.
RUV RUV RUV.
Is That What You Call Tact?
The morning after is always the same.
There's the slow, gritty opening of the eyelids. The squinting at the sunlight as you realise that you forgot to close the blinds last night when you stripped down to your panties and fell into bed.
There's the moment of comprehension as you start to sit up, get the spins, and curl back under the covers whimpering from confusion and pain. You curse the man who invented Happy Hour and those damn Egyptians for brewing beer.
And as you lie there for the next two hours, eyes shut tight against the annoyingly cheerful sunlight, your stomach still trying to claw its way out your esophagus, you'll try to remember the events of the previous night.
You'll remember being too drunk to dance with your friends, and wanting nothing more than to sit back at the bar and pound back another round of Canadians.
You'll get a flashback of stumbling into the bathroom to throw up, and running [literally] into the accountant from your old job. There's a scene where you puke all over the seat - but you wipe it down afterwards for the next gal.
You remember thinking that you'd finally thrown up in a bar. And it only took 9 months.
You remember squeezing 6 people in a car meant for 5, and how Pat was your "seatbelt".
Vaguely, you remember throwing up out of Pete Connely's window.
Three times.
You don't know how they found your house.
You don't remember getting into bed.
You wake up naked, and hungover like nothing before.
And every time, you make the same resolution:
I am never drinking again.
But then you remember that you can always get a liver transplant.
The morning after is always the same.
There's the slow, gritty opening of the eyelids. The squinting at the sunlight as you realise that you forgot to close the blinds last night when you stripped down to your panties and fell into bed.
There's the moment of comprehension as you start to sit up, get the spins, and curl back under the covers whimpering from confusion and pain. You curse the man who invented Happy Hour and those damn Egyptians for brewing beer.
And as you lie there for the next two hours, eyes shut tight against the annoyingly cheerful sunlight, your stomach still trying to claw its way out your esophagus, you'll try to remember the events of the previous night.
You'll remember being too drunk to dance with your friends, and wanting nothing more than to sit back at the bar and pound back another round of Canadians.
You'll get a flashback of stumbling into the bathroom to throw up, and running [literally] into the accountant from your old job. There's a scene where you puke all over the seat - but you wipe it down afterwards for the next gal.
You remember thinking that you'd finally thrown up in a bar. And it only took 9 months.
You remember squeezing 6 people in a car meant for 5, and how Pat was your "seatbelt".
Vaguely, you remember throwing up out of Pete Connely's window.
Three times.
You don't know how they found your house.
You don't remember getting into bed.
You wake up naked, and hungover like nothing before.
And every time, you make the same resolution:
I am never drinking again.
But then you remember that you can always get a liver transplant.
TEH TERRORISTS!
alcohol = bad. says:
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/pentagon.html#Main
alcohol = bad. says:
check that out
Packing is boring.... says:
this better be importatnt
alcohol = bad. says:
remember how a Boeing 757 hit the Pentagon on Sept.11?
Packing is boring.... says:
hmmm....facinating....
alcohol = bad. says:
isnt it?
Packing is boring.... says:
Mmmhmmm....so they're saying it was a fighter jet? Cuz missles don't drill through 8 walls
alcohol = bad. says:
well it wasnt a boeing 757
alcohol = bad. says:
i think thats pretty apparant
Packing is boring.... says:
yah, no kidding
alcohol = bad. says:
maybe it was....
alcohol = bad. says:
A UFO!!!!
alcohol = bad. says:
SEPTEMBER 11TH MEETS ROSWELL!
alcohol = bad. says:
ALIENS ARE THE TERRORISTS!!!111!!!
Packing is boring.... says:
yah, those bastards from hte middle east are pretty goofy lookin' hahaha
Jason [packing] and I are such nerds...
alcohol = bad. says:
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/pentagon.html#Main
alcohol = bad. says:
check that out
Packing is boring.... says:
this better be importatnt
alcohol = bad. says:
remember how a Boeing 757 hit the Pentagon on Sept.11?
Packing is boring.... says:
hmmm....facinating....
alcohol = bad. says:
isnt it?
Packing is boring.... says:
Mmmhmmm....so they're saying it was a fighter jet? Cuz missles don't drill through 8 walls
alcohol = bad. says:
well it wasnt a boeing 757
alcohol = bad. says:
i think thats pretty apparant
Packing is boring.... says:
yah, no kidding
alcohol = bad. says:
maybe it was....
alcohol = bad. says:
A UFO!!!!
alcohol = bad. says:
SEPTEMBER 11TH MEETS ROSWELL!
alcohol = bad. says:
ALIENS ARE THE TERRORISTS!!!111!!!
Packing is boring.... says:
yah, those bastards from hte middle east are pretty goofy lookin' hahaha
Jason [packing] and I are such nerds...
9.03.2004
Shirts And Gloves
When I'm back from the road
And you're out on it
And I'm tired of this distance
And I believe it's over-rated.
And this phone tag game is endless
The novelty is wearing
I'm hoping time will pass
Without any assistance
Or convincing.
Road rules apply
There's so much action,
You're getting busy.
I'll call your cellular phone
To tell you TV night was
Lonely without you
And so am I...
So am I.
It seems our day keeps falling on a leap year.
So many high points on this last leg.
I can't wait to recount them
It seems like nothing's happened
Until I've shared them with you.
The note that you had called
Says you're half a day away
And you are heading home
Just in time for me to leave.
Road rules apply
There's so much action
I'm getting busy.
So make sure that I'm up to date
On TV night,
I hate to miss out.
I think I miss you most
On Wednesdays
And Saturdays.
It seems our day keeps falling on a leap year.
-Dashboard Confessional
*sigh*
That song....
One of THOSE songs.
I shall be at IKEA for the evening if I am required. And my parents shall probably deposit me at the Back Alley after the excursion.
Furniture shopping makes me hella-excited.
And I heart psychology. [moreso than philosophy, that's for sure]
I'm really glad my mom taught me to read when I was 2.5 years old. It gives me an edge in school, because I have readings in every single subject this weekend.
Although I'm nearly done my Humanities textbook. Darwin is my bitch.
Take care, kiddos.
When I'm back from the road
And you're out on it
And I'm tired of this distance
And I believe it's over-rated.
And this phone tag game is endless
The novelty is wearing
I'm hoping time will pass
Without any assistance
Or convincing.
Road rules apply
There's so much action,
You're getting busy.
I'll call your cellular phone
To tell you TV night was
Lonely without you
And so am I...
So am I.
It seems our day keeps falling on a leap year.
So many high points on this last leg.
I can't wait to recount them
It seems like nothing's happened
Until I've shared them with you.
The note that you had called
Says you're half a day away
And you are heading home
Just in time for me to leave.
Road rules apply
There's so much action
I'm getting busy.
So make sure that I'm up to date
On TV night,
I hate to miss out.
I think I miss you most
On Wednesdays
And Saturdays.
It seems our day keeps falling on a leap year.
-Dashboard Confessional
*sigh*
That song....
One of THOSE songs.
I shall be at IKEA for the evening if I am required. And my parents shall probably deposit me at the Back Alley after the excursion.
Furniture shopping makes me hella-excited.
And I heart psychology. [moreso than philosophy, that's for sure]
I'm really glad my mom taught me to read when I was 2.5 years old. It gives me an edge in school, because I have readings in every single subject this weekend.
Although I'm nearly done my Humanities textbook. Darwin is my bitch.
Take care, kiddos.
9.02.2004
I just found a vintage PUMA gym bag in my basement.
Funny, because I saw a red version of the same bag for 60$ in a vintage shop on the weekend.
Life is good.
Funny, because I saw a red version of the same bag for 60$ in a vintage shop on the weekend.
Life is good.
Morning Calls
So here's the deal.
I've been up since 8 because my family doesn't know that I don't have class until 3 today.
Although I do have to be at the College at noon for coffee with Jason Rydle. [yes, that Jason Rydle, f.k.a Red Shirt Boy.]
And I think today I'll take advantage of the free swimming facilities at my school.
Might stop by La Vie En Rose after class and pick up one of their 10$ bikinis as incentive for losing the little extra bit of weight I should.
Eat less! Swim more! Use those bloody exercise bikes!
The day that I can wear one of those bikinis somewhere besides the dressing room will be the day I know I look the way I want to.
I just hope that I won't lose my fantastic cleavage in the weight-loss process.
Mel and I also figured out that I look fantastic in a corset. Which, yeah, I'll agree.
Dashboard Confessional rocks my socks.
And I bought the wrong Philosophy books. RAD.
Peace, I'm going to shower.
So here's the deal.
I've been up since 8 because my family doesn't know that I don't have class until 3 today.
Although I do have to be at the College at noon for coffee with Jason Rydle. [yes, that Jason Rydle, f.k.a Red Shirt Boy.]
And I think today I'll take advantage of the free swimming facilities at my school.
Might stop by La Vie En Rose after class and pick up one of their 10$ bikinis as incentive for losing the little extra bit of weight I should.
Eat less! Swim more! Use those bloody exercise bikes!
The day that I can wear one of those bikinis somewhere besides the dressing room will be the day I know I look the way I want to.
I just hope that I won't lose my fantastic cleavage in the weight-loss process.
Mel and I also figured out that I look fantastic in a corset. Which, yeah, I'll agree.
Dashboard Confessional rocks my socks.
And I bought the wrong Philosophy books. RAD.
Peace, I'm going to shower.
9.01.2004
Arg.
Y'know what I hate?
I fucking hate people with shitty, awful layouts. Who try to customise them and it only ends up looking like they shit all over it.
If you don't fucking know ANYTHING about HTML, don't fucking massacre your layout and call it "cool" or "personalized" or shit like that.
Save the rest of the Internet's eyeballs and stay the fuck away from your "Edit Template" section.
Jesus Christ, go kill yourself.
I also hate people who do shitty, crappy photos and pass them off as "art" or "my peeps" or "OMG I'm so emo and intellectual".
HAVING A DIGITAL CAMERA DOES NOT AUTOMATICALLY MAKE YOU AN "ARTIST".
Fuck, you should WORK at it. I take hundreds of photos. On average, I post or share one out of ten. Possibly even less than that.
Pretending that every shot you take is a work of fucking art is RETARDED.
I HATE STUPID PRETENTIOUS PEOPLE.
Moving on to another rant on the same vein of conversation...
I also hate people who will write something that is PURPOSEFULLY meant to incite anger or attention-whoring. And will then delete it after a few hours.
My philosophy:
Don't write something unless you're willing to stand by it.
If you're just going to go back and delete it anyway, don't fucking bother. You know what that makes you?
A fucking coward.
Grow a set and stick by what you say.
If you're such an awesome fucking person, you'll write whatever the fuck you want and not give two shits about what anyone says.
Jesus. It continues to irk me.
Although I did take some small pleasure in throwing out the card you so 'thoughtfully' wrote.
In short:
I FUCKING HATE PEOPLE.
I'm going to Mel's. Goodbye.
Y'know what I hate?
I fucking hate people with shitty, awful layouts. Who try to customise them and it only ends up looking like they shit all over it.
If you don't fucking know ANYTHING about HTML, don't fucking massacre your layout and call it "cool" or "personalized" or shit like that.
Save the rest of the Internet's eyeballs and stay the fuck away from your "Edit Template" section.
Jesus Christ, go kill yourself.
I also hate people who do shitty, crappy photos and pass them off as "art" or "my peeps" or "OMG I'm so emo and intellectual".
HAVING A DIGITAL CAMERA DOES NOT AUTOMATICALLY MAKE YOU AN "ARTIST".
Fuck, you should WORK at it. I take hundreds of photos. On average, I post or share one out of ten. Possibly even less than that.
Pretending that every shot you take is a work of fucking art is RETARDED.
I HATE STUPID PRETENTIOUS PEOPLE.
Moving on to another rant on the same vein of conversation...
I also hate people who will write something that is PURPOSEFULLY meant to incite anger or attention-whoring. And will then delete it after a few hours.
My philosophy:
Don't write something unless you're willing to stand by it.
If you're just going to go back and delete it anyway, don't fucking bother. You know what that makes you?
A fucking coward.
Grow a set and stick by what you say.
If you're such an awesome fucking person, you'll write whatever the fuck you want and not give two shits about what anyone says.
Jesus. It continues to irk me.
Although I did take some small pleasure in throwing out the card you so 'thoughtfully' wrote.
In short:
I FUCKING HATE PEOPLE.
I'm going to Mel's. Goodbye.
One-Eighty By Summer
Go on just say it,
You need me like a bad habit,
One that leaves you defenseless, dependent, and alone.
Go on just say it,
(Are you afraid to)
You need me like a bad habit,
(Say what you want to, tell me you want to)
One that leaves you defenseless, dependent, and alone.
(Are you afraid to say what you want to, tell me you want to)
I hold my tongue use it to assess,
The damage from way back when it mattered,
But nothing seems important anymore,
We’re just protecting ourselves from our self,
And I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back down)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back down)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back…)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back…
Are you ashamed to say what you want to tell me you want to.
Are you ashamed to say what you want to tell me you want to.
(Come on just say it)
Are you ashamed to
(Come on just say it)
Say what you want to tell me you want to.
(Come on just say it)
Are you ashamed to
(Come on just say it)
Say what you want to tell me you want to.
I’m making the difference,
It just seems pointless,
With all the obvious lines all out of focus.
Why can’t you just be happy,
Why can’t you just be happy.
And I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back down)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back down)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back…)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back...
(Just come back, just come back...)
Go on just say it,
(Just come back...)
Come on just say it,
(Just come back...)
Well I’ll just say it,
(Just come back...)
I’ll just say it,
(Just come back...)
I need you defenseless, dependent and alone.
(Just come back, just come back, just come back...)
She says live up to your first impression,
Well my best side was your worst invention,
Can't you live without the attention?
Can't you live without the attention?
(Just come back, just come back, just come back...)
She says live up to your first impression,
Well my best side was your worst invention,
Can't you live without the attention?
Can't you live without the attention?
She says live up to your first impression,
(Come on, just say it)
Well my best side was your worst invention,
(Come on, just say it)
Why cant you live without the attention,
(I need you defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live without the attention.
(Alone)
She says live up to your first impression,
(I just say it)
Well my best side was your worst invention,
(I just say it)
Why can't you live without the attention,
(I need you defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live without the attention,
(Alone)
Why can’t you live,
(Defenseless, dependent)
Why cant you live,
(Defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live…without…live…without,
(Defenseless, dependent, defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live,
(Defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live,
(Defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live…without…live…without.
(Defenseless, dependent, defenseless, dependent)
-Taking Back Sunday
Go on just say it,
You need me like a bad habit,
One that leaves you defenseless, dependent, and alone.
Go on just say it,
(Are you afraid to)
You need me like a bad habit,
(Say what you want to, tell me you want to)
One that leaves you defenseless, dependent, and alone.
(Are you afraid to say what you want to, tell me you want to)
I hold my tongue use it to assess,
The damage from way back when it mattered,
But nothing seems important anymore,
We’re just protecting ourselves from our self,
And I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back down)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back down)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back…)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back…
Are you ashamed to say what you want to tell me you want to.
Are you ashamed to say what you want to tell me you want to.
(Come on just say it)
Are you ashamed to
(Come on just say it)
Say what you want to tell me you want to.
(Come on just say it)
Are you ashamed to
(Come on just say it)
Say what you want to tell me you want to.
I’m making the difference,
It just seems pointless,
With all the obvious lines all out of focus.
Why can’t you just be happy,
Why can’t you just be happy.
And I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back down)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back down)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back down,
(I don’t think I’ll ever come back…)
I don’t think I’ll ever come back...
(Just come back, just come back...)
Go on just say it,
(Just come back...)
Come on just say it,
(Just come back...)
Well I’ll just say it,
(Just come back...)
I’ll just say it,
(Just come back...)
I need you defenseless, dependent and alone.
(Just come back, just come back, just come back...)
She says live up to your first impression,
Well my best side was your worst invention,
Can't you live without the attention?
Can't you live without the attention?
(Just come back, just come back, just come back...)
She says live up to your first impression,
Well my best side was your worst invention,
Can't you live without the attention?
Can't you live without the attention?
She says live up to your first impression,
(Come on, just say it)
Well my best side was your worst invention,
(Come on, just say it)
Why cant you live without the attention,
(I need you defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live without the attention.
(Alone)
She says live up to your first impression,
(I just say it)
Well my best side was your worst invention,
(I just say it)
Why can't you live without the attention,
(I need you defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live without the attention,
(Alone)
Why can’t you live,
(Defenseless, dependent)
Why cant you live,
(Defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live…without…live…without,
(Defenseless, dependent, defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live,
(Defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live,
(Defenseless, dependent)
Why can’t you live…without…live…without.
(Defenseless, dependent, defenseless, dependent)
-Taking Back Sunday
Go On Just Say It...
So it's 8:30 AM.
Nine hours since I died in Dartwars to finish 4th overall.
In an hour and a half, I have my first college course.
I'm feeling scared. Apprehensive.
I miss my boyfriend and I miss everything about him.
I miss my job. I owe 400$ on my credit card. I have to pay that before the 5th.
I'll post lyrics in lieu of anything remotely interesting.
God, I suck.
So it's 8:30 AM.
Nine hours since I died in Dartwars to finish 4th overall.
In an hour and a half, I have my first college course.
I'm feeling scared. Apprehensive.
I miss my boyfriend and I miss everything about him.
I miss my job. I owe 400$ on my credit card. I have to pay that before the 5th.
I'll post lyrics in lieu of anything remotely interesting.
God, I suck.
