Friday, June 5, 2009

The real "good bye"?

"Let it go,
Let it roll right off your shoulder
Don't you know
The hardest part is over
Let it in,
Let your clarity define you
In the end
We will only just remember how it feels

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain

Let it slide,
Let your troubles fall behind you
Let it shine
Until you feel it all around you
And i don't mind
If it's me you need to turn to
We'll get by,
It's the heart that really matters in the end

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain

All of my regret
Will wash away some how
But i can not forget
The way i feel right now

In these small hours
These little wonders
These twists & turns of fate
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away but these small hours
These small hours, still remain,
Still remain
These little wonders
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away
But these small hours
These little wonders still remain"

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Screw it.

So much for my farewell, yeah?

I don't care at the moment who reads this. I've been drinking some wine, and I'm going to write one of my Daily Spark journals.

Task: "What was your most humiliating junior high experience? Write a short, possibly funny, description of it."

I'm not entirely sure I had one humiliating junior high experience that stands out above the rest. I feel like Frost Valley probably ices the cake, if anything. I opted to go on a nature-trip with all of the other honors eighth graders, packing my baggy red jeans and NYR boxers, which, for some reason I wore proudly like a boy. I proceeded to get my period on the trip, and tell just about everyone. Then I refused to participate in most things, got angry at the romances on the trip (Bess & Mark playing frisbee?! WTF?!) and sulked most of the time. I honestly don't remember much about the trip, save for the compost smelled funny and I was at a very awkward age. Our room named our toilet bowls Joan and Jane Flushing. 'Nuff said.

Oh eighth grade, you amuse me.

'Night, kiddies.

Monday, June 1, 2009

all good things must come to an end.

Dear everyone that reads this,

Those of you that have understood me, and know how I work, and can read everything I've written accurately, thank you. You've made my blogging experience worthwhile.

Those of you that asked me questions when I was difficult to understand, so you could keep my life straight in your head, thank you too. I'm fascinated that you were interested enough in the first place, let alone enough to make a clearer picture.

Those of you that did neither of the above, and simply chose to create drama based on something you neither understood nor knew nothing about, shame on you. I sincerely hope someone creates trouble for you after misunderstanding you and not being intelligent enough to find out any additional information. 'Cause you know what? That's extremely frustrating.

So, to keep the b/s to a minimum, goodbye my favorite blog evar. If you seriously want to read what I have to write/say, you can either become a master of the internets and e-stalk Google until you find me or you can ask me for my new blog information. Otherwise: problem. fucking. solved.

In conclusion:
Alex and I finally did have that talk I had mentioned I wanted to have, and as it turns out, I was pretty off. The only "information" she actually had for me was some hearsay that she classified as such and a lack of opinion/judgment because she doesn't/didn't know MD at all. So all of that "bad people" stuff I had mentioned was, a) the way I talk (I call people "bad people," but don't actually think they're bad; I just like the way that sounds); and b) based solely off of things that are inadmissible because they're either not firsthand or from forever ago. What she wound up telling me was that she had no opinion, because she had nothing to go on, but she would be happy for me regardless of what decision I made, so long as I was happy. That's why she's my friend. Because she's just amazing like that.

What hurts me most in the situation that unfolded because of a passing statement I made that was both fundamentally incorrect and never followed-up on, is that one of the people I love and am finally getting to see more often, got hurt by this. No one thought to ask me what it meant, or why I said it, or if it actually meant anything to me. What I find baffling though, was that after it was written, I didn't change anything. Did I stop talking to or seeing MD? If Alex's opinion was my driving motivation for follow-through, wouldn't I have been like, "aw, fuck this; she don't like him? I'm outtie."? I mean really. Am I that pathetic a person that I would take someone else's opinion and make it mine? I've spent all of my life proud that I don't do that. And what were those words I said less than twenty-four hours ago? "Even if he didn't like you, I don't care. It'd just mean I couldn't talk to him about you." Yeah. That's how I roll.

But instead, I'm spending my Monday evening writing a fucking farewell blog because I can't seem to write down thoughts without someone coming at me with intent to wound. Here's a tip for those people: if you ever want me to disappear, just continue to create drama. I'd much rather drop the people in my life that are involved than I would live with it. I will do everything I can to avoid it, so if you want me to go away, create it, 'cause I will be gone faster than you can finish your next uninformed potential lie.

Lastly: I'm dating MD. I've managed not to use his name, because, well, basically I don't think he'd prefer it coming up in a Google search on him later. But there it is: I'm dating him. Because I want to, and because he wants to date me, and because I enjoy the time I've spent with him thus far. Whatever happens, happens. If I've made it through James, Rob, Chris and Sam, I can make it through fucking anything.

Starting a new blog somewhere else from scratch might be good for me anyway. I can write without bias, knowing nobody I'm dating, have dated or am close (or not so close) friends with will be reading it. Ultimately, I do this for me anyway. So goodbye cruel world. Good luck in all of your endeavors.