| Reasons |
[Dec. 2nd, 2006|11:23 pm] |
1. I have no time to write.
2. Anything I have found time to write is going to a friend of mine come Christmas.
3. Finals.
(Love is selfless.) |
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| Spring Semester Schedule |
[Nov. 15th, 2006|12:36 pm] |
Mondays: History of Jazz 1-1:50, Lectures in Literature 3-4:15
Tuesdays: Religion in Modern America 11-12:15, Poetry Writing 2:30-3:45
Wednesdays: History of Jazz 1-1:50, Lectures in Literature Recitation 4:30-5:45
Thursdays: Religion in Modern America 11-12:15, Poetry Writing 2:30-3:45, Intro. to Pop Culture 6-8:30
Fridays: History of Jazz Recitation 12-12:50
Hell yes. |
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| This would be my sermon. |
[Nov. 13th, 2006|11:21 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | School Again | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Bob Dylan, Maggie's Farm | ] |
A teenage girl about 17 had gone to visit some friends one evening
and time passed quickly as each shared their various experiences of the past year.
She ended up staying longer than planned,
and had to walk home alone. She wasn't afraid because it was a small town and she lived only a few blocks away.
As she walked along under the tall elm trees,
Diane asked God to keep her safe from harm and danger.
When she reached the alley, which was a short cut to her house,
she decided to take it.
However, halfway down the alley she noticed a man
standing at the end as though he were waiting for her.
She became uneasy and began to pray,
asking for God's protection.
Instantly a comforting feeling of quietness
and security wrapped round her,
she felt as though someone was walking with her.
When she reached the end of the alley,
she walked right past the man and arrived home safely.
The following day, she read in the newspaper that
a young girl had been raped in the same alley just
twenty minutes after she had been there.
Feeling overwhelmed by this tragedy and
the fact that it could have been her, she began to weep.
Thanking the Lord for her safety and to help this young woman,
she decided to go to the police station.
She felt she could recognize the man,
so she told them her story.
The police asked her if she would be willing to look at a lineup
to see if she could identify him.
She agreed and immediately pointed out the man
she had seen in the alley the night before.
When the man was told he had been identified,
he immediately broke down and confessed.
The officer thanked Diane for her bravery and
asked if there was anything they could do for her.
She asked if they would ask the man one question.
Diane was curious as to why he had not attacked her.
When the policeman asked him, he answered,
"Because she wasn't alone. She had two tall men walking on either side of her."
Amazingly, whether you believe or not, you're never alone.
Did you know that 98% of teenagers will not stand up for God?
PS: God is always there in your heart and loves you no matter what.....and if you stand up for him he will stand up for you.
This is not something I wrote. This is one of those chain e-mails that are supposed to make you think. I almost replied to the sender who is a friend of mine, but I realized it was not my place to do that.
But before I say anything...
This happens to be my LiveJournal and is definitely my place to say anything I want. If I offend you, simply stop reading. No one is making you do anything.
I also want it known that I understand that Christianity is an extremely generic term used to describe a very large group of people that do not always share similar beliefs. For me to think otherwise would be like saying that all Muslims want to send their kids into our malls with bombs in their lunchboxes. No, George Bush, you lose.
If you're pissed off past this point, it's your own fault.
This e-mail makes me sick when I think about it. The Lord Jesus is not going to manifest himself beside you because you're stupid enough to walk through a dark alley alone, Diane. Get some pepper spray.
(I only said pepper spray because it sounds better. In actuality, that's also stupid. So don't go and get all bold and walk anywhere you please by yourself at night because you have a teeny can of mace on your keychain. Think about it--some dude is coming at you with a gun and you mace him. Bad idea. He's just going to get pissed off and fire at random and you're probably going to get shot. You don't need eyes to fire a gun, just to aim. Instead, use a knife and stab the motherfucker in the wrist of his trigger hand and run like hell.)
I just get really upset with people who use their religion as an excuse to disregard reality. For example:
Cancer happens. It happens to good people and it happens to bad people. I'm close to people who had/have cancer and who have survived, died, and are still fighting it. I also have a lot of friends whose lives have been affected by cancer.
For me, cancer was the last major deciding factor in my decision to become nonreligious, preceded by suicide. But that's just me. From my religious friends in response to a situation involving cancer, I've heard things like:
1. "I don't know why God is doing this to me. I pray for the strength to understand."
2. "If I pray to God every night ans I ask everyone to pray for me, then the cancer will go away."
3. "God gave her cancer because she led a sinful life and He is punishing her. I will pray for her forgiveness."
1. This doesn't bother me one bit. This person's prayer was about a personal connection to her religion and that is a beautiful thing. Sometimes I wish I was able to have that.
2. This frightens me a lot. I know a lot of people who say things like this. I understand why, though. I did it myself once when I was still struggling to find out what I believe. I was in middle school and my little brother had to get a CT scan for the intense and frequent migraines he was having. I was terrified because my aunt had a brain tumor and was slowly dying and she was only 38. I was in the basement of my house when they left and I immediately ran upstairs to my dresser and dug up the golden crucifix necklace my grandma had given me at my First Holy Communion. (Did I mention I was raised Catholic?) I remember whispering something like, "Please God if you let my brother be okay then I promise I'll believe in you and I'll never do anything bad ever again." I falsely ran towards something I didn't believe in at a desperate attempt to make myself feel better. I did feel better and my brother was fine. It had nothing to do with the last minute bargain I tried to make.
3. This last one blows my mind. This person is not interpreting their god, they're pretending to be their god by passing this sort of judgement. Go ahead, tell a dying person it's their fault that God is mad and that your righteous prayers will save them, that's thoughtful.
Point being, I don't hate religion. I just hate when people abuse it. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 12th, 2006|10:16 pm] |
I went to Philadelphia for the weekend and now my entire body hurts. But I don't feel like talking about it:
A LONG (INCOMPLETE) LIST OF THINGS I CLAIMED TO HATE BUT REALLY DIDN'T:
1. New Found Glory's new album
2. Mariah Carey
3. Adam Lazarra/Taking Back Sunday
4. the color brown
5. brown hair
6. The Rolling Stones
7. racerback tanktops
8. hot dogs
9. Taylor
10. online journals, haha
THINGS I GAVE A CHANCE FOR THREE SECONDS AND STILL HATED:
1. Norma Jean
2. Dane Cook
3. Laguna Beach
4. Business Calculus
5. Ugz
6. Avril Lavigne
7. Underoath
8. Socks
THINGS I WILL ALWAYS HATE:
1. Metallica
2. Pete Wentz/Fall Out Boy
3. Republican anything |
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| Fuck You, Little Princess, Who the Hell Do You Think You Are? |
[Nov. 7th, 2006|07:51 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Dorm Again | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Say Anything | ] |
Sometimes I think I don't let myself write poetically because I'm scared.
But now I just think I'm lazy.
Too many things are still the same and I need change, I'm restless and Philadelphia is visiting, not running away. I want to go somewhere warm and all I want to do there is breathe. I don't want to answer to anyone. I want simplicity everywhere else so I can deal with my own complications. I need a hotel room with a balcony and a really, really good show. I want to wear a dress for no reason.
(I would only do it for the excuse to listen to your heartbeat afterwards. Don't let me do it.) |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 6th, 2006|01:21 am] |
My love is fierce. There's no other word for it.
I don't mean R&B Ballad love. I mean friendship love.
Girl-wise, there are six that I really, really love.
Here are some random groups of words:
Boobs. Ice cream. Purple. Puke. Baldness. A Cursed Shirt. Snot on my shoulder. Freckles. Cleveland. The Issue. Pedophilia. Charity. The Serpent. Respect. The Anthony Green Game. Bert McCracken. Toaster. Awkward Outfits. Fancy Fridays. Vince's Ringtone. Tammy. The Most Exclusive Club. Sex Tents. Riptide Rush. Heart-Shaped Hot Tubs. Bob's Your Uncle. We're the Beatles.
Boobs. Bitches Ain't Shit. Laffy Taffy. Thug Life. Elephantitis Jewelery Box. Spleens. Jaundice. New Years Orange Juice. Saw. Dee Snyder. Captain Howdy. Ay Baby You Eight? Rice. Bloody Fingers. Ska. Aruba. Ghetto Fabulous. Liek. Screaming Contests. Tall. Twins. The Wizard of Oz. Drunk Crying. Bros Before Hos.
Boobs. Latin. Pottery. Friendship Bracelets. Haircuts. Pool Tables. Birthmarks. Ice Skating. Fuck to the Devil. Spice Girls Barbie Dolls. Brass Instruments. Marching Band. Burping. Thumbprint Cookies. Stealing Taylor. JuJuBes. Windowsills. Peeing Behind a Shed. My Other Mom. Appreciation for the word "Cunt." Impulse Walks. Jesus Camp. Sugarcult. Virginity.
Boobs. Eat N Park. Secret Parties. The Pleasure Bar. Penguins. Justified/Stripped. MxPx. Concussions. My First Primantis. My First Club Laga Show. My First Hangover. Braces. Home Videos. Cher. Halloween. Mardi Gras. Degrassi. Lesbian Tuesdays. Skateboarding. Kicking Only Fights. Camping Trips. One-Footed Geese. Cabbage. Bruno's Pizza. Sidewalk Chalk. Fievel Goes West. Witches. Painting. Yellow Backpacks.
Boobs. Dave. David LaChapelle. New York City. 353 Oakland Aveunue. "Are You Gay? Because Your Girlfriend Looks Like a Dude." Lola. Octopus. Poetry. David Hasselhoff. Holy fuck, Four Different Daves, look. Quaker Steak and Lube Boneless Wing Salads. Country Music. Pen Names. Lunch Time. Gay Men. Rent. Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Chapstick. Rocky Horror.
Boobs. Dancing. Corn Dogs. Accents. "Somehow they just know." Painting. Hip Hop. "Beee." My name with two i's. Public Transportation. Shirley Temples. Paris Hilton. Monica. "Your Aunt." "Uncle" Bill. Dad Voices. Speed Dating. Costumes. Car Wrecks. KY Jelly. Night Life. Bacon. Frat Parties. PF Chang's. "I Love College."
Further Word Association:
Comfort: The Doorknob to my Bedroom. Mint. Green Acorns. Zucchini Bread. Band-Aids. Snuggle Fabric Softener. I Love Lucy. Hotel Rooms. Punderson Manor. Pianos. Infomercials.
Happiness: The Beach Boys. Sprinklers. Singing. Kumquat. Porcupine Puffer Fish. Raffi. The Geico Gecko.
Sadness: Donuts. My Mom's Perfume. Disney World. Chocolate Lollipop Bouquets. SnowDogs. Pet Stores. Bath Oil Beads.
Love: Mail. Toothbrushes. Pugs. Scars. Tomato Soup. Snot. The Smell of Sleep. Being Warm. Winter. Film.
Excuses: Sex. Drugs. Holidays. School. Plastic Surgery. Marriage.
Fascintaion: The Cure. David Bowie. Aquariums. Space.
Fear: Closets. Making Love. Rape. Distraction.
Albums That Are Necessary to My Life:
-Bleed American, Jimmy Eat World
-International Superhits, Green Day
-All Killer No Filler, Sum 41
-Harvest Moon, Neil Young
-The Very Best of Cher, Cher
-Aida, The Original Broadway Cast
-Start Static, Sugarcult
Questions I Want Answered:
-How come I was never into Hanson?
-How did I get vibrato in my voice?
-Why am I really bad at reading aloud?
-How did I get so damn good at hula-hooping?
-Why did I choose the left side of your bed?
-How much of my writing skills did a learn from school and how much did I learn from reading on my own?
-How the hell does Western Wear by Georgia stay open in a place like Allison Park?
-What the hell is the point of NASCAR?
-...or welfare?
-...or Dane Cook?
Surprisingly, I have nothing else to say exact that I tell really good stories on the spot. If you're still reading this, you're quite the trooper. |
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| Halloween lasts forever in college. |
[Oct. 31st, 2006|11:55 pm] |
It started last Thursday and ended today. So I guess I'll start with Thursday and end today. Good deal.
10/26- I really wanted to be William Wallace for Halloween, only female and hotter, but I didn't have the time/patience to go piece together a costume. Alley and I felt left out so we hopped on a bus to the Strip and went and got slutty costumes from a bag:
My costume was an excuse to steal a ton of Reeses Cups from this kid's room on the 9th floor and put them in my freezer.
10/27- I didn't do much Halloweening at all, in fact I went home for the night. I got really stressed out about school and stuff and ate a lot of candy at work, does that count?
10/28- I shot my movie for Filmmakers and Alley and I rushed back to school to get ready to go out. I did all of my Wonder Woman makeup but I had street clothes on so Stef and I could go to Transition's last show ever. Did you see that? I said Last. Show. Ever. I had to hold her hand the whole time because it was sad. And it's barely even about them...there is just so much history with my own life and that band. So many shows. So much drama. So much fun.
Fuck, time to grow up.
We said goodbye and we went back to Stef's apartment where there were like 10 other people getting into costumes. In the end, ther were three of us not fucked up on something before we headed back to Oakland for a few parties. I had to cut the evening short with Stef because I had to stay in Oakland for the night, but it was great to see her and Kelly and everyone and it was obvious how much we missed each other. Me disapproving of her boyfriend might have something to do with the distance I think.
I met up with some Oakland friends and we went to an underage bar and we drank about 15 toasts in memory of Transition, saying "Dreams Will Never Die." ahahahaha. hahaha. I danced like a ho, it was fun. Then I had had enough so I went upstairs to go to bed.
Little did I know that I wouldn't be sleeping until 5 am.
There was other bullshit contributing to this that doesn't matter. I was drunk. I was angry. I started yelling at A Friend of Mine about how much he sucks for deciding he can only talk to me when he needs me but that my needs don't matter. I still believe that, only my timing was way off for telling him. That should've come out of my mouth probably a year ago, maybe even more. In response, he sent a picture to my phone. I never saw what the picture was of because my phone only takes pictures, it doesn't send or recieve because I'm not paying for that anymore. But...
sending pictures to your friends is normal, right? I got a decent amount that night because everyone likes to show off their costumes. Understandable. But the fact that I couldn't see this one picture really bothered me. I had a horrible feeling about it. And when I couldn't get ahold of my friend to see if he was alright, I basically panicked. I called another friend and told him what I thought, and I could tell he thought I was overreacting and just way too drunk or something. I ended up staying awake until 5 am watching The Munsters until I passed out.
10/29- By the time I woke up I felt a lot better about the night before. There probably wasn't anything to worry about. My mom came and got me and we went to the Psychic Festival at the Open Mind Bookstore in Sewickley. I had two separate card readings in which I was told a lot about that Friend of Mine, another secret Friend of Mine, my family, my future, and myself. I didn't buy into much of it at all but it was still a neat experience.
I spent the rest of the evening relaxing, cleaning, and watching the first season of Weeds. Everything was fine until I spoke to that Friend of Mine. He had spent Saturday night in the hosptial. He's going to be okay, but how did I know that from the East Coast? I'm not supposed to know things like that, especially about people I haven't talked to in months. Maybe I do believe that you can be that connected to certain people if you pay attention.
10/30- I spent a greater portion of the day plotting to demolish Pittsburgh Filmmakers for vengence. Luckily I'm surrounded by good people and that wasn't necessary. What realy matters is what happened that night:
Rocky Horror Picture Show.
I went as the female version of Rocky. I was more-than-half-naked and wore about three pounds of makeup:
I got humped by strangers onstage and fucked about 76 virgins. If you're frightened, you obviously have never been to a live performance of Rocky Horror and you shouldn't worry too much about it.
10/31- Happy Halloween. I don't have much to say about today. Except for I want to march down to South Carolina and give Alley's dad a piece of my mind. I'm sure I'm not alone in saying that, either. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 28th, 2006|12:01 am] |
"For me you're only a little boy just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And i have no need of you. And you have no need of me, either. For you I'm only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, we'll need each other. You'll be the only boy in the world for me. I'll be the only fox in the world for you..."
The Little Prince
by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
( I stole that from Rachel because these are words put into our hands by the most beautiful and admirable woman we know. )
---
Do you know how close you still feel even though you're so far away? I've felt like you've been all over me since last December and probably even before that. But literally, all over me then, and now still--all. over. me. I thought I showered you off but you're still here and I play right into it. You're so much weight. Sometimes it's like a feather down quilt on a cold night, and other times it's Gulliver's Travels. All I have is the occasional 3 am phone call and rope marks over our scars.
And I hate how many poems are about you or my father.
---
It's disturbing to feel like a guest in your own bedroom. My breathing is even shallow here.
--
The only time I've ever truly listened to The Recieving End of Sirens is when I've been puking my guts out from Stef's passenger seat.
--
If I'm named after a boat should I be terrified of icebergs?
--
I used to hate that you've seen what I look like without clothes on. You have since been replaced. Twice.
--
I lied a lot just now.
--
It needs to be November 21st already because I need Brand New's album so I have somewhere to channel all of my teenage angst. Funny, but not because that's probably true.
--
So I married Phil on the internet and this is what he had to say:
cLYde818713: oh, amy.
cLYde818713: i don't recall a ceremony.
radio radieux: you were drunk
cLYde818713: nuh uhh
cLYde818713: i've drank a lot lately. but i have yet to be drunk!
radio radieux: I know you brag about it all the time to me
radio radieux: because I drink like one thing and I die
cLYde818713: yeah. i've experienced that.
cLYde818713: but i also weigh 210 pounds.
radio radieux: it's because I'm an Indian
cLYde818713: but aaaanyway
radio radieux: you have boobs
--
Only I really am Native American. Cherokee, but you wouldn't know it because I'm so damn white. And apparently Native Americans are biologically bad at consuming alcohol. Which brings me to my last and final point...
---
I got drunk at an art studio off of cactus juice on Saturday and I knocked over a giant French antique door that was set into a found art piece because I was looking for the bathroom. I'm so cultured and classy. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 25th, 2006|03:10 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | School? | ] |
| [ | music |
| | SOWING SEASON. OH. MY. GOD. | ] |
+ There's a trend in the people I meet: you're either with me or against me. Against me? Doubt I care.
+ I'm finally old enough to vote and I'm all nervous about it...and then like 6 people have pointed out that it has to be easy because old people do it. I need a voting chaperone...
+ and a Live-In Nurse.
+ I've gotten way too good at sarcasm/being offensive. Sorry?
+ No actually, I mean it. Sorry.
+ Everybody likes gore even if it makes you puke or freak out. It's something you can't look away from.
+ I think it's funny when people I just meet try to talk to me about the people they've heard I dislike/dislike me. Like that means I'll automatically like you because we hate the same people because that's my favorite thing to have in common with someone else...
+ it even bothers me when my good friends do it and I make sure they know that.
+ I'm not looking to be with him. I'm not looking for someone to take my mind off of him. I'm looking for someone who can make me care like I care about him.
+ I love getting things in the mail. TWA-1207-1 3990 Forbes Avenue Pittsburgh, PA 15213. Send me nice things.
+ I miss my brother.
+ I have a tracker on this journal and I can tell exactly who reads it. I'm probably going to take it off because it creeps me out. |
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| THIS IS A PHOTO SERIES!!! |
[Oct. 24th, 2006|06:09 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Die. | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Cobra Starship. | ] |
Marietta + Pittsburgh = EXPLOSION.
Proof:
Meg and I make nice faces. The girl on my right was really nice but I don't remember her name unfortunately. Maybe it was Jane. Or Lauren. I have no idea who that dude is or why he's on my camera.
Elicia is in this one instead of the Mystery Boy.
There's Greg.
Logan totally likes to kiss dudes.
Preston loves me. No idea who those other people are at all either.
Drunken recall is not one of my skills. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 23rd, 2006|10:13 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Somewhere Safe. | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Glittering Clouds, Imogen Heap | ] |
 
from a series Alley did on 5x7 canvases.
from a walk in the park. |
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| Thank God for Good News, Thank Good for God News. |
[Oct. 16th, 2006|11:05 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Bed. | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Young Machetes. | ] |
Marietta, Ohio for the weekend. Autumn from a bus window.
I needed everything about that.
I needed to laugh and make an ass out of myself with Meg. I needed to pay attention to the smalltown charm and refer to Marietta College's soccer team in terms of "we" and "us." I needed to drink an entire bottle of five-dollar wine and yell "who the fuck are you?" at pretentious wannabe rockstars. I needed to sit next to a cat named after a naughty piercing and watch Weeds for six hours in my bra in front of a fake fire.
The complications in my life are probably going to escalate between now and probably January unless I find something stable soon. I know this because I've fallen into this pattern every year since age thirteen.
As much as I love constantly being busy, it was great to be able to relax for a while.
I don't really get to just sit and listen to music much anymore and driving through Pennsylvania reminded me why I love this state so much. At school I feel like I hide away in my room sometimes just to avoid all of the things around me that distract me. My "alone time" has ironically become an online journal that the public can see.
Other times I just skip class to go see several deaths by chainsaw at Southside Works like I did last night.
I saw Rachel.
The Bouncing Souls could probably control my life if they wanted.
Billy's coming home.
Emma's coming home.
Yes, yes, yes. |
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