XBox

So Santa came to our house early and left a beautiful black 250 gig XBox 360 with controllers and games. It rocked. For about a day.
The package came with a 30 day XBox Live trial, but I wanted my own account, so today I went to the mall and spend $60 on a 12 month membership. So I was so excited when I got home and I was already to start gaming and having a blast and-
No. It took over half an hour to sign up. I got so pissed off that my very caring and tolerant boyfriend actually couldn't talk to me. I finally got it, after many tears, only to have the internet not work.
FINALLY, we got it. Then the parents came home.
After we did the dishes and unloaded groceries then we started to play.
We got a game of slayer and 2 games of infection in, having a blast with my boyfriend and his friend. Then it started lagging.
My sister keeps bitching about how she wants to play this stupid slayer game.
Mom also scolded my boyfriend about not protecting me and my brother while playing slayer, saying that "maybe we should play something more nice". Good it's so fucking stupid. She also says that we're not being nice to eat other. GEE MOM, I WONDER WHY. It's not like when playing video games we cuss each other out and torment each other. I wasn't even being that bad!! it makes me want school to start again just so I can have an hour without her breathing down my neck about it.
Of course, when she reads this post, she'll probably take it away and yell at me and shit because that's what she does. You know, one of the reasons I'd rather hang out at my boyfriends house instead of mine is because HIS mom doesn't yell at us all the time. Seriously. I cannot remember the last time he was over here without mom yelling at me.
I wanted an XBox so I could curse at people and kill people and be obscene and rude and horrible.
She just aked who are you chatting with and I glared at her and said no one. Obviously my attitude is because I played XBox, not because I have selfish sisters and a controlling mom.
Because we're connected to wifi, that means we have to share it with everything else that's connected to wifi. Like computers. Like the one my sister was watching a movie on while we were trying to download Halo Reach to the XBox.
And my stepdad refuses to run a cable through the family room. It doesn't matter that since we're on wifi the connection is so slow that half of the time we can't even see the game we're playing, while everyone else is playing it.
I've cried about 3 times since I've come home.
Tomorrow is a stupid fucking xmas party where we have to go to my stupid step dad's mom's house where everything is perfect in place and there's nothing to do and we're there forever. Then Friday it's another xmas party, only it's mom's dad and another hour drive to go a place with nothing to do and no one I'd like to see and another day without being around people I like. Then it's xmas eve, then xmas, and I don't even know what we're doing over break because of this thing that happened at dad's and all I want is to be home alone with just my brother so we can play Halo with James without lag and just have a good time and not have all the stupid stuff of the holidays.
The holidays are suppost to be a time of joy.
They're not.
It's about horrible family parties no one wants to go to but have to and exasting shopping for gifts that people don't even like. I just want school to start again so I can get away from my family and see my friends.
Anything but this would be nice.

Sickening

My goodness it's been a while. But I have something I want to say.
You make me sick. I read your blog since the first time you dumped her, and I actually gagged a couple of times. You honestly think you're not the bad guy? Instead of listening to the 3 who agree with you, listen to the dozens that don't.
I actually feel sick to my stomach after reading what you wrote.
I can't believe that I was thinking about forgiving you and actually being your friend again. You have a twisted sense of right and wrong, and you feel like you're such a martyr, saying "I know I deserve this, yell at me, tell me who you are and what you say about me". That is, until people stop talking about it, and then turn around and say "Nvm, I'm not that bad guy".
I can't believe you. No, actually, I can, I just don't want to. I want to believe that you're not saying that,I want to believe that someone hacked into your blog and that you're actually sorry about what you did . Not saying "I deserve it" or apologizing for attention. I want to believe that the guy I was friends with for years, the guy I stuck with when everyone else turned their backs on him, is still somewhere.
But I guess not. Because the guy I miss wouldn't do that. He would be outraged that someone would put things like that out on the internet, and would comfort the poor girl who got hurt so badly. Instead, he's the one who did the hurting. And is still doing it.
I can't forgive him for that.

Bucket List as of 10/11/11

1.Fall in love (Done)
2.Get kissed in the rain
3.Get kissed in a snowstorm
4.Get kissed in a thunderstorm
5.Adopt a puppy of my very own
6.Dance in the rain (Done)
7.Read in Central Park
8.Visit the Louvre in Paris
9.Visit the Metropolitan Museam of Art
10.Visit New York City (Done)
11.Visit New Orleans during Marti Gras
12.Finish a novel
13.Get a novel published
14.Get hauled back to the nursing home in the back of a police car
15.Get James to read a book
16.Lose my virginity (Not going to say if I have or have not online)
17.Have a book I wrote be banned
18.Visit San Fransisco
19.Spend the night in jail
20.Have a daughter
21.Read And Tango Makes Three to my child(ren)
22.Have one of my paintings in an art museam
23.Meet Basshunter (I doubt it, but I can hope)
24.Get all A's sometime during highschool
25.Finish making up my own relgion
26.Have followers of my relgion
27.See Gay Marriage made legal in the US
28.Get an XBox 360
29.Beat James at Halo on XBox 360
30.Learn to drive a motercycle
31.Have my own motercycle
32.Ride coast to coast on a bicyle
33.Go to Canada
34.Eat vegetarian Canadian bacon
35.See my Marwoodiean friends in the future
36.Grow a flower from a seed and not kill it
37.Keep some plant besides bamboo and aloe alive for more than three months
38.Have a windowsill garden
39.Get a tattoo
40.Get my nose pierced
41.Get my lip pierced
42.Get my belly button pierced
43.Get my eyebrow pierced (My bangs are so long no one would even see it)
44.Snorkel on the Great Barrier Reef
45.Eat snails in Paris
46.Read War and Peace
47.Read Pride and Predjedice
48.Learn how to spell definatly
49.Figure out why people like football so much
50.Watch competetive Rock Paper Scissors on ESPN
Damn, nothing new accomplished. Add stuff maybe?
51.Listen to a Beatles song without cringing (Unlikely)
52. Actually get a song for me and my boyfriend.
Gtg to work ttyl

How I got my Saturday School

So yesterday my best friend got her heart broken by an asshole. That was bad enough. Everyone knew he was a jerk, but was so pitiful that we hoped that she could help him out. Even when there were all the warning signs, we just closed our eyes and wished he would change. But he didn't.
The whole point of a blog is so that people can read it. I know that, and that's why I write here and not only in my diary (Which I may or may not have DON'T LOOK FOR IT). How else am I suppost to get the attention that a drama queen like me enjoys so much? Well, since I only have like one reader, I guess that doesn't really constitue for a lot of attention, but it's better than nothing.
Well, my friend's ex had a blog too. And he talked about stuff too. Mostly about their relationship. About how he was compleatly in love with his ex girlfriend, and there was this other girl. He was going to break it off with my best friend so he could go out with this girl who lived hours away, just because she was pretty. But she didn't leave her boyfriend (She did but then went back), so he didn't leave my friend. But 75% of the posts were about how he missed his ex. And how whenever he did stuff with my friend he was thinking of her.
Did I mention that he talked about what he did with her? Everything? All the intimate parts of their relationship, right up on his blog, for everyone to read.
And by everyone, I mean the mutual friends he knew were following. He knew they were following it, he was doing fucking shout outs. And he still kept talking about that stuff.
You know, maybe more people would follow my blog if I started to emotionally cheating on my boyfriend, talking about other guys that I'd want to be with. Maybe if I started talking about the personal stuff we did together, I'd break 10 people. But I can't, because I actually love my boyfriend, and I DON'T fantasize about others when I'm with him and I DON'T talk about personal stuff on my blog and also, I rarely use first names, let alone last ones!!!
God, it just pisses me off so much.
In fact, it pissed me off so much, that I yelled at him in the hallway and slapped him. That earned me a trip to the office, where I missed third hour because I was talking to an assistant principle and my guidance concelor. But since it was a one time thing, and it was pretty justified, I only got a Saturday school, not a suspension. Mom still flipped a bitch though, and I have dish duty for at least two weeks, and no home phone (Still no cell phone), and god knows what else.
Now I've got to go and tell my dad. Whoopie. He'll be super pissed too. It's funny, at school, my friends are high fiving me, and saying how that he totally deserved it. Just like when I got suspended lsat year. I guess I just do the wrong things for the right reasons. At least, I think so.
Not sure when I'll be able to write again. Ttyl, keep your chin up, no hope with dope-
Dude. Sorry, but this is crazy. Psychology can turn you off drugs better than any DARE class can. Did you know if you do coccaine for long enough, you can actually lose your ability to be happy forever? It's cause of all the dopamine (Chemical that makes you happy) is bouncing in between sensors cause the coke closes off the way to get back in, the little sensors get worn down and start to retreat, causing you to lose pleasure in every day things, like pizza or watching TV. So you keep chasing that high, doing more and more just to be happy at all. And weed? Every brain neron you have, you were born with. You never get anymore. So when you're killing brain cells smoking, they won't grow back like skin cells. They're gone, forever.
Sorry, but I thought you might want to know that. Hugs not drugs you know?
Anyway, make love not war, believe in yourself, stay in school (Maybe not Okemos cause the administrators are wack), and be true to yourself. Peace out hommies

Stuff stuff stuffy stuff stuff stuff

In lit class we're reading Beowolf, and in the opening it's describing this horrible monster. My awesome teacher asked us if we felt sympathetic, then played "Behind Blue Eyes" by The Who to give us another perspective.
When listening to that, I guess it sorta made me feel like how I feel with my family. Like, it's almost exactly what it's like when I'm with them.
No one knows what it's like

To be the bad man

To be the sad man

Behind blue eyes



No one knows what it's like

To be hated

To be fated

To telling only lies



But my dreams

They aren't as empty

As my conscience seems to be



I have hours, only lonely

My love is vengeance

That's never free



No one knows what it's like

To feel these feelings

Like I do

And I blame you



No one bites back as hard

On their anger

None of my pain and woe

Can show through



But my dreams

They aren't as empty

As my conscience seems to be



I have hours, only lonely

My love is vengeance

That's never free



When my fist clenches, crack it open

Before I use it and lose my cool

When I smile, tell me some bad news

Before I laugh and act like a fool



If I swallow anything evil

Put your finger down my throat

If I shiver, please give me a blanket

Keep me warm, let me wear your coat



No one knows what it's like

To be the bad man

To be the sad man

Behind blue eyes

I gtg to work, I'll let you chew on that for a while. Btw, some shit beez going down, and I wish I could talk to people about but I can't because I promised this person I wouldn't. It's not even about me, and I feel so guilty about thinking about myself when this happens. It's also making me rethink things though. If I can't even comfort this person when something like this happens, I don't know what will happen if I can't comfort them when something worse happens.
In other news, I'm sick.

Daaaaaaaaaaaamn

I really ought to be writing more shouldn't I? Well, once I get my netbook back, then I'll have more access to the comp, so I will actually write more. So yeah.
Last week in ChemCom I was super bored, and since I sit in the front row I couldn't read under my desk, so instead I got this flash of inspiration, and decided to write this piece of poetry. In advance, no, I was not high when I wrote this.
Tick tock
The mouse ran up the clock
The cuckoo sang
The blue bird rang
Laughing under the bright blue moon
Dancing round the fiddling child
Bright jewled beetles
Shimmered in the starlight
They were plucked from leaves
And under logs
To adorn hair and cloths and shoes
The madly jigging elves
Giggled as the frenzy grew
Deep drum beats echoed
Calling those who heard
They came from far and near
All a manner of fur and feathers and scales
Writhing in glorious agony
As the pulsing drums grew louder
Forming a circle around the child
They shrieked and wailed
Whirling around and around
The beating grew louder
Claws and paws and hooves beating the ground
The bright blue moon began to turn red
As one by one they all dropped dead
While the child stood calmly and played.
Whacha think? I do believe that I'll make a poll about it. Yes, yes I will!
Btw, my hair is staying natural for a while. Thank you for your reasponses, but Idk when I'll be going to the hair salon anytime soon.
That's all for now folks. Ttyl.

I despretly need inspiration

I want to write poetry or a short story or something, but the muses have deserted me. This creativity stuff comes in short, intense bursts. Like I'll write non-stop for about a week or so, then not write for several months. Drives me crazy.
Also, I've decided to go back to being a vegetarian. On the 5th, I shall eat meat only on specified days, one day a month. Like Thanksgiving, or Christmas, stuff like that.
Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh this lack of creativity and inspiration is driving me CRAZY!!!!! I really really really reallyreallyreallyreally want to write and write and write, but in the absense of having a computer, the words have seemed to dried up. Where there were once flowing streams of honeyed words there is now only deserted wastelands. Those sweet, sweet muses called to me, their siren voices beckoning me forward, coxing the essence of my soul forth, the glourious pain of release as my fingers flew across the keyboard, unleashing the power to create worlds. From the depths of my mind sprang the beings that lived the lives I never could. Each keystroke made them more and more real, lifelike figures that one could not help but fall in love with. When they felt pain or anguish, you shed tears for their troubles. When they fell in love, you swooned in delierious joy. And when they died, you felt a little part of you die with them, lost between the black and white words across the screen. The imense power to control them fades when you realize that they are the ones in control, that you have always known them, that they were just waiting to be born. These are not just characters, they are aspects of yourself, and as time goes by they take control of the story, leading it to twists and turns that cause you to laugh and sigh at each new bend. Then.............
Nothing.
They're lost.
Gone.
It's like they died. No, not died, because then they'd still be with you. No, they vanished, abandoned you, left you there to gnash your teeth as you struggle to find them again.
They may come back, but it's only a matter of time before they leave you again, even quicker than before. One can only hope that they stay with you long enough for you to tell their story.
Man, that got a little mellow dramatic. Sorry bout that. Anyway, I better get going. It's after work and mom still hasn't picked me up. So I'll ttyl, latters.