Christmas Food Doesn't Count

Totally unrelated to anything christmasy.
But last weekend I was playing Life with my dad.
And at the part where you have to get married, he asked me if I wanted a man or a woman.
That was the first time that I truely felt that he accepted my sexuality.
I mean he's always been okay with it.
I had a girlfriend.
And he was okay with talking about her.
But, to me, this was proof.

Anyways, merry christmas!
I got an amazing dress with monsters all over it.
I knew I was getting it, since I chose it.
But nonetheless, I'm freaking happy!
It fits beautifully.
(Except for around the bust.
Which is tight, but not to suffocating.
It works better if I don't wear a bra.)
I got other things too.
Like an Edward Scissorhands poster (my favourite movie).
And underwear, and studded bracelets.

Last night I went to my step-dad's cousin's house.
For a christmas eve party.
It was okay.
After I had a few drinks, that is.
I don't know his family very well.
But they kept complimenting my boobs.
Awkward.
I wrote "merry christmas" on my chest.
Well, I got my mom to do it.
Since it's hard to write on your own chest.
Mirrors are no help.

I'll write again soon.
MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!

Is That Mapleleaf Bacon?

So, I don't know what I'm writing about today.
I just feel like writing.
k? =)
Fair enough.

Lines are blurry.
How do you know when you've crossed the line?
When does it stop being "voicing your wishes" and when does it start being "bossing people around"?
When does it stop being "respecting someone" and when does it start being "being someone's slave"?
So should he respect my wishes?
Or stand up for himself?
Maybe it depends on the situation.
Right?
There's so many othet blurry lines.
Too many to talk about.

I cut my hair really short.
I might look like a dyke.
I did it to try and stop pulling out my hair.
I didn't ask for trichotillomania.
It's something I have to live with.
Probably for the rest of my life.
I've had it since I was about eight.
If you don't know what it is, let me explain.
Basically you pull out your own hair uncontrollably.
Not just hair on your head.
Hair EVERYWHERE.
I've had bold spots on my head.
I've pulled out all my eyelashes twice.
Anyways, it's pretty horriible.
And basically incurable.

Life's not so bad, I guess.
I'm still pretty neutral.
I just feel ugly lately.
Crappy.
But I'll survive.

Pre-Winter

I woke up this morning, and it was beautiful outside.
I just had to take pictures before I went to school.
It was foggy, crispy, frosty, and cold.
As if a pre-winter fairy casted a spell.

As for everything else.
I kind of feel like I'm in limbo. In between. Nothingness. My happiness has died down. But not extinguished.
I'm trying my best to stay optimistic about things.
And trying to fix my problems.
It still seems easier not to care though.
That way you don't get hurt.
I still become a slave to it sometimes.
But less and less.

I Wasn't Being Sarcastic

Oh, eventfulness, eventfulness.
I guess it took something that should bring me down to actually set me free.
I should be hurt, broken, depressed.
I should feel betrayed, used.
But I'm happy.
I feel fresh.
Out of a rut.

Thanks for making me hate you.
Honestly, thank you.
That's just what it took for me to see clearly.
Now I know who you are.
Now I know I don't want anything to do with you.

And now I have more room for him.
I love you, Tyler.
And now I know that I can be happy with him.
We will be happy.
I don't need you like I thought I did.

I feel great.
Even though I have a low fever.
Emotionally, I feel good.
Not so much physically.

I need to stop missing school.
Last year, I missed a third of my classes.
I still managed to make honor roll.
But that's irrelevant.
I'm slipping away.
I'm weak, I'm dizzy.
I can't handle it.
I missed all last week.
I missed the whole week two weeks before.
I'm getting nowhere.

You Want Me Out Of Your Life

I should clean my room.
I should do my two projects that are due for tomorrow.
I feel sick.
I'm waiting for something to happen.
Something good.
Something different.
Inspiring, exciting.

Sometimes I wish I could be a better person.
And I know I can.
If I really try.
But I don't like trying.
I'ts easier to give up.

A few days ago, I consioucly decided to go with the flow.
What does that even mean?
I do what other people tell me to do?
I do whatever comes to mind first?
Do nothing?
I'm not sure.
We'll see what happens.
Or maybe that's what "go with the flow" means.
Does the fact that I decided that make me lazy?

I don't want to go to school.
I don't want to do anything really.
Except for maybe see my friends.
And Tyler.
And eat maybe.
I need inspiration.
Badly.
I need some sort of motivation.
Some sort of revelation.
Something.

Green Hair Today, No Hair In The Picture

So I got my school pictures back today.
Guess what?
I have no hair!
See, my hair was green in the pictures.
And there was a green screen in the background.
So that they can add a background image such as books or a strange blue glow.
They tell us not to wear green.
But this obviously didn't occur to me as I was dying my hair.
So when people look back at the yearbook they will no longer see me as "the girl with cool hair".
This is what people usually recognize me as.
Since it changes so much.
But they will look at my picture and say "There's the girl with no hair".
Fuck.

Hey Guys, Life (Love) Sucks - What's New?

Some things are falling apart.
Other things are coming toegther.
It's a mess, really.

Old things become new again.
And forever becomes old.
And I don't know what to do anymore.
And I don't want to lose him.
But there might be no other way.

To be happy.

My Obsessions

RULES:
•List 5 current obsessions
•Tell us who tagged you
•Tag 5 other people
•Have fun!

Obsession #1 - Hair Extentions!
I can't wait to get them, I hope I do.
My mom says she'll order then for me if I stop picking at my split ends for 3 weeks.
-_-
I don't know if I can do it.

This is a picture I photoshopped (not very well obviously) to see what I would look like with long hair.

Obsession #2 - Autumn!
i'm so happy it's finally here!
I've been waiting all year.
Every time I look outside and see pretty trees or fallen leaves, I instantly smile inside.
I don't want it to end.

Obsession #3 - Hating how I am
I seem to keep writing about it in my poetry.
I want to change.
"So I’m everything I hate
And it’s not hard to see
I’m everything I’d kill you for
If you were ever to be"
This is a few lines in a poem I wrote about an hour ago.


Obsession #4 - Watching shows online
Gossip Girl and America's Next Top Model.
It seems so weird for me to be watching these shows.
I'm not exactly girly.
But I somehow enjoy them.

Obsession #5 - My new vampire fangs!
I love them.
I get them about two weeks ago from vampfangs.com.
They are AMAZING.


Katie-Jane tagged me.

These are the five people I tag:
A Bad Idea In A Hot Disguise
BigCityDreamsx
SUGAR
Displacedmind
Kaaos Images

Well, that was fun.

Go Green

So, I seem to have died my hair green.
This week has been weird.
I'm confused and sad about alot of things.
But it'll all be okay.
Becuase I'm going to the Rocky Horror Picture Show tonight!
Wooh.
I'll write more soon.

Whiskers, McDonald's, And Squished Puppies

First off, to explain to picture.
Friday was "spirit day" at school.
You know, the day where everybody dresses in school colors and then a pep ralley assembly is held.
(I didn't go to the pep ralley).
Pathetic.
Trying to convince us that we're lucky to be in such a great school.
Pretending we're "winners".
So conceited.
Anyways, we were doing face paint in art class first period when i got to school 45 minutes late.
Our school mascot is a bear.
So I was painting bear paws on people.
And whiskers.
(Do bears even have whiskers?)
Nonetheless, there were whiskers.
I wanted whiskers too.

Oh my goodness this thanksgiving weekend was so eventful.
Let's start with the happenings of Saturday night.
Me and my sister slept at our friend's house (Jessica).
She also lives next door to us.
And we met when we were like three years old.
In ballet class.
Yes, I took ballet.
Anyways, we slept there.
Well, we snuck out at midnight to go meet her boyfriend.
There was a little weed and a little beer.
It was so much fun.
We went to McDonald's.
And stayed there until about 2:30am.
Jessica's boyfriend, Chap, made the longest straw ever.
He connected like fifteen straws together to make a super-straw.
It was amazing.
And he managed to drink from it.

So now Monday night.
(Last night).
My big thanksgiving dinner.
With my mom, my mom's boyfriend (Rod), my sister (Megan), our friend (Amy), my boyfriend (Tyler), and Rod's parents.
Oh, and by the way.
I've been really sick all weekend.
Like no voice kind of sick.
And when I do have a voice, I sound like Estelle (Joey's agent).
From the show Friends.
If you don't understand the referrance, I sound like a raspy chain-smoking 60-year-old italian woman.
My throat kills, but it's also kind of hilarious.
Anyways, this thanksgiving was THE BEST.
(Even though I was sick).
The food was amazing.
I love the fact that I got to spend it with Tyler.
I got to drink a little (well, more than a little)(shh) white wine.
But the cherry on top of it all was this:
We're selling our orange corn snake.
And we've been waiting on the guy who's buying it to come pick it up.
So finally, he calls after supper asking if he could come get it.
We agree.
So he comes over.
Gets the snake.
All goes well.
There's conversation.
We're standing outside talking to him now.
And his girlfriend's there, too.
They just got a new puppy.
And the puppy's there too.
He has a cone around his head (doggie humiliation).
And the girlfriend's just explaining that she's always wanted a puppy.
So then Rod's mother comes outside.
She's out-of-her-mind drunk.
As usual.
She reaches down to pet the dog.
Talking to it in her overwhelming brittish accent.
And then the unthinkable happens.
She falls.
ON THE DOG.
She not only falls on the puppy.
But also on our poodle, Captain, who was being held my Tyler.
Tyler falls over.
And almost knocks over my mom.
The puppy is crying squished underneath the large old lady's ass.
Anyways, crazy shit.
This is the first time we meet these people.
Horrible first impression.
But it was the most HILARIOUS thing.
Me, Amy, and Megan ran into my room as soon as it happened.
We just couldn't hold our laughter.

Surprise, Surprise

Weird things happen.
Unexpected things, sad things, happy things.
Everything.
My mom tells me to manifest my situations.
And I've learnt this through watching The Secret.
I believe in it.
But you still can't control what happens.
Everything surprises you.

Yesterday I got invited to a punk show by a relative I barely talk to.
He's seventeen, he was a mohawk.
He's my step-mom's cousin.
He's pretty cool, but we barely see eachother.
And when we do, we barely talk.
The last time we saw eachother was at some sort of family event.
The only things he said to me were a few comments on my mohawk.
But other than that, not much was said.
He didn't seem very interested in me.
Until we said goodbye.
He told me that if I ever wanted to see a show or anything I should call him (I don't have his number).
But anyways I didn't think much of it.
I certainly didn't think he was serious.
I just thought it was weird.
But then I get a message on facebook (now this is almost two months later and we havn't talked since then).
At first I have no idea who it is.
"Some creeper", I thought.
Until he mentioned my dad's name.
So I might end up going to myt first punk show with some guy I barely know.
Oh well, it might be fun.

Today I didn't go to school most of the day to finish a project.
It was due Monday, now it's Thursday.
If I didn't hand it in today I would lose 30%.
Bullshit.
I get to school, run to class.
I'm panting as I hand the teacher my late slip.
I'm about to tell him the project's done, but my friend informed me that we didn't do the projects today.
I was confused and exhausted.
I just hid my face in my hands and cried.
Shaking and sweating.
Snot dripping from my nose.
It was horrible.
And i didn't stop crying.
I went through the entire class like that.
Walked down the hall to my next class like that.
I was still crying when I got to my next class.
And not just a little bit of crying.
Still fullout SOBBING.
The teacher told me to go cool down in her office.
I eventually stopped crying.
But holy shit.
I've never cried that much at school.

BLU-CRUSH

Fuck it.
I didn't write at all last week.
I let myself down.
Again.
Whatever.
No rules this time.
No promises.
That way I can't break them ;-).

Hm, last week.
I donno.
I saw Surrogates on Friday.
It was good.
It was an amazing isea for a movie.
And the movie was overall great.
Just at some parts it was trying too hard.
Like "Oh yes, we're a sophisticated new age movie".
But, oh well.
Whatever works.

Anyways, I'm bored with last week.
Let's talk about now.
Which is also boring.
So I'm drinking this 7% alcohol drink (ughhh).
And it's VERY BLUE.
Like, whiper fuid blue.
It's pretty good.
But it makes me want more.
I hope I don't end up being an alcoholic.
Which is quite possible.
Considering I have alcoholism on both sides of the family.
I'm just afraid I'll end up like my "ex-stepdad".
Controlling, emotionally abusive.
Alcoholic.
Which seems to be the path I'm going down.
Usually when your family leaves an abusive relationship, you're afraid you'll end up with an abuser.
But no.
I'm afraid of BECOMING abusive.
And I'm pretty sure I already am.
On some levels at least.

Holy shit.
One beer cooler and I'm already dizzy.
I'm such a light weight.
I like it though.
Woaw, I can't even walk straight.
Jeeze.

So what else..
I stayed home from school today to do a project that I thought was due today.
Then I saw Amy at the gym and asked her about it.
And she said that everyone was working on it in class today.
Oh well.
I got to stay home, I'm not complaining.
But it's a really awesome project.
It's "Where's Waldo?" for art class.
But it's "Where's (you're name here)".
I did mine monster-theme.
And I traced a picture of myself.
A bloody one.
So I fit in.
Yay.

I finished my drink.
I'm listening to Muse.
And I'm taling to my dad on msn.
And I'm feeling dizzzzzzy.
And I still have a big project to do.
Gah.

I Failed

Alright, so I havn't written for two days.
Promise broken.
FAIL.
Oh well, I knew it would happen.
Okay new promise:
I write at least three times a week.
Deal?
Yes, deal.
*Shakes own hand*

So, like three days of catching up to do.
Yes, lots has happend.
Hm, let's see..
Thursday.
Thursday I went to school for the first time in a day and a half.
It was alright.
I was stressed about all I had missed.
But I didn't miss that much.
Fast forward.
After school.
I go to the mall with some friends.
Which is weird for me.
Cause I almost never go to the mall.
Our crappy cornwall mall.
And I don't hangout with friends that often.
And there were FOUR.
Anyways, we're at the mall.
And I feel sick and ugly.
So, naturally, I'm just in a crappy mood.
And I miss Tyler.
Then, guess who's there when I get back home?
Tyler.
But the weird thing is, that didn't cheer me up.
I was more sad and confused.
I hate surprises.
1. I didn't understand why his mom gave in and let him come over.
2. If I had known he was coming over before, it would have saved alot of sadness.
3. I didn't know he was gonna be there, so I hadn't shaved in a few days, I had just washed my face and taken off all my makeup, and my hair was ugly and flat and up in a headband.
I like being the prettiest I can be when he first sees me.
I mean, it's not like he hasn't seen me at my worst.
But, I just like when his eyes light up when he sees me.
As if his visual memory of me was reassured.
But whatever, I got over it.
Other than that, most of the evening went pretty suckishly (can I still be considered smart after using that word?).
Conflict, conflict, conflict.
Surprisingly, it wasn't about me this time!
CELEBRATION, HAPPINESS!
Nonetheless, somehow it managed to get the best of me.
Therefore, most of the evening was spent away from Tyler.
He lay on my bed sulking, half-asleep.
As I took the oppurtunity to do my homework.
But it ended, and all is forgiven.
Just like every other time.

Which leads to Friday.
Regular day.
We had the "Terry Fox Run".
Which I'm completely sick of.
Thanks to my elementary school principal.
He was obsessed with the man.
And I'm pretty sure I saw Terry Fox tattooed of his ankle.
Seriously.
I told my mom that he probably thinks of Terry Fox as he bangs his wife.
Anyways, after school I packed to go to my dad's for the weekend.
Yet another surprised occured.
Tyler's mom suggested he come for the ride to my dad's.
The ride's usually about an hour and a half long.
HUGE FIGHT.
Me and Tyler.
All my fault.
Like always.
Except this is the biggest one we had in a while.
It was mainly fueled by jealousy.
Mine of course.
It made me want to die.
Out of self-hate.
Because it made me not want to be with him.
'Cause I can't stand hurting him.
Over and over again.
As the fight came to an end.
It made me realize a few things about myself.
The reason why I hurt him and no one else.
It's like a superhero movie.
You know how Spiderman didn't want to be with Mary-Jane because he knew that would be the villain's first target.
He know's the bad guy wants to hurt him and he can only do so by hurting the ones he loves.
Well, my emotions are the villain.
They want to hurt me.
I want to hurt myself.
So I hurt the ones I love (Tyler).
Which, obviously, brings me pain.
Horrible pain.
And I know it'll never change.
And so does he.
But he still wants to keep me.

Now for today.
The one year anniversary of my grandfather's death.
So my whole dad's side of the family got together and picked apples.
(Something we used to do with my Grandpa Nick).
It was kind of weird.
Being in a place that I only vaguely remember.
I wish I was swarmed with memories of him.
Memories of that place.
But I wasn't.
Is that wrong?
I ate way too many apples.
But I guess it was kind of fun.
And we went to the graveyard.
I love it there.
But I don't get an eerie feeling.
I kind of wanted to though.

Lastly, FALL IS HERE!
I'm so excited.
The leaves changing color.
The cool breeze.
I adore it.
I can't wait for Halloween.
I think I might be a vampire french maid.
But we might be going to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
That is, if they're showing it on Halloween night.

Rhymes With Toga

Weird thing happend today.
I went to a YOGA class.
I thought I hated yoga.
But I guess I don't.
Maybe I should try new things more often.
I'm still sick.
And the yoga was surprisingly relaxing.

So my boyfriend, Tyler.
He drove his parents car.
And, guess what?
Yeah, he kinda smashed it.
So it sucks for him 'cause he has to pay like $1,300.
And it sucks for me 'cause his parents won't let him see me for the rest of the week. -_-
He's seventeen.
I don't think they should be allowed to make rules like that.
His mom's crazy.
But that's a long story.
Anyways, when he told me he couldn't see me I freaked out.
Like usual.
I hate myseft for it.
I told myself I would stop.
I told myself "I just won't care anymore".
And I was going to go through with it.
But then I told him that and he got really upset.
Keep in mind, everything I say is an understatement.
I guess "not caring" isn't an option.
It probably wouldn't have worker for long anyways.
So here I am.
Being psycho-depressive girlfriend.
Putting him through hell.
Why he's still with me, I do not know.
I mean, I know he loves me.
I guess that's why.
But he deserves some sort of reward for putting up with me for so long.
It's been almost ten months.
Wow.
And we have forever to go.
I hope he can survive it.
Anyways, eventually I calmed down about the not seeing him thing.
I think it was after the yoga class.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm gonna make it a point to try and write everyday.

Overload

Okay, so here's the deal.
You know the last entry I wrote was explaining how I was at a loss for words.
Well, I guess now's the time it all comes pouring out.
I was laying it bed, and i was swormed with all these topics.
I was having realizations.
And having just finished writing my previous post, I was dying to share all my thoughts.
I kept telling myself it could wait til tomorrow.
Telling myself I had to sleep.
But I just couldn't.
I went to go turn on the family computer located right down the hall from everyone's room.
And everyone is in their rooms.
Sleeping.
I'll surely wake them with my loud, obnoxious typing.
I'll just try to type as lightly as possible.

So here's the thing, I've been sick for a day and a half from school.
Over msn, I asked my friend what I missed today.
She told me that in careers they did one of those "voted most likely to.." things.
The class voted me "most likely to become an author".
This didn't surprise me.
I'd love to be an author one day.
Poetry is my passion.
I'm at the top of my english class.
My teacher loves me.
She shows my last years work as examples to the new class.
So I guess being an author would be ideal.
And I'd love to write a novel.
But I wouldn't start at this age.
I wish I could.
Except for I'm embarrassed.
And it's kind of hard for a fifteen-year-old to write a novel and be taken seriously.
If it's about the kind of stuff I want to write about.
Sex, depression, insanity.
Who would want to read that?
No one.
If I heard that a fifteen-year old kid wrote about that stuff, I sure as hell wouldn't read it.
Take Ellen Hopkins books for example.
Crank, Burned, Impulse, Glass, Identical, Tricks.
If you havn't read them, they're all about hardships that young people go through.
Crank and Glass are about drugs.
Identical is about mental disorder.
Tricks is about prostitution.
I'd love to write books like that.
These books inspire me.
But if I heard that they were written by a teenager I probably wouldn't have read them in the first place.
Maybe isn't my point.
I just mean that if I wrote stuff like that I'd be embarrassed.
Exposed.
But earlier today, I got my Tarot Cards read.
And I got "The Devil" card in the slot that represents the near future.
And it said that I will soon have to face my inner self and accept my dark side.
Let myself be natural.
Let my creative self out.
Accpet everything I don't like about myself.
So maybe it's a sign that I should infact write a novel, regardless.
Maybe I just won't show it to anyone.

Speaking of dark side, I had another realization.
I've always thought of myself as a dark person.
I love vampires.
(NOT TWILIGHT).
Blood, monsters, ghosts, murders.
And fear.
Yet I'm afraid of all these things.
I can't even watch Saw movies.
I'm afraid of EVERYTHING.
To the point where people make fun of me for it.
The strange thing is, fear is one of my favourite things.
But I don't want to face it.
I avoid encountering fear at all costs.
But I like to admire it from afar.
But I already knew all this.
My realization was that, considering myself a dark person, I havn't had many dark thoughts lately.
For a second, I had a vision of torture.
But I stopped myself.
Because it scared me.
I mean I write about that kind of stuff all the time in my poetry.
I use morbid things to express myself.
But I guess I havn't really thought much into it.
I don't receive many disturbing images.
I used to.
But it seems I don't anymore.
I think back to my Tarot Card reading.
Does that mean I'll start seeing them again?
Who knows.

Let Me Speak!

Well, happy 11:30 pm on a school night!
I know I havn't been writing alot.
I guess that's why I'm writing now.
Anyways, when I created this blog, I imagined I'd have so much to say that everything would come pouring out.
But, I guess it's not that easy.
I'm usually very opinionated and interesting.
Well, for the most part anyways.
But lately I feel wordless.
I mean, I can still write poetry.
I guess that's just how I tought myself to express my thoughts and feelings.
But when it comes to journaling, I've never been able to keep a steady one.
I've tried many times to start one.
I'd go to the store, buy a pretty new "diary" decorated with eye-catching images like flowers and kittens.
(Keep in mind, I was about seven.)
I'd go home and start writing stright away.
Resulting in a paragraph of poorly spelled words in childish trying-too-hard handwriting.
I would simply write out the events of the day.
And promise myself to do the same every night.
And I would follow through.
For about four days.
And it's true.
I moved recently, and I've been unpacking.
Coming across many of these stupid "journals".
I wrote them as if they were for my mother to read.
So formal, and lack of opinion and creativity.
I would start with the date written in ugly cursif writing.
Then go on to say "Dear Diary", as if I was adressing an acquaintance, someone I had to impress.
And I would end with some sort of closing.
Like "Goodbye".
So, it seems this is my attempt to start a real journal.
So far it has failed.
But we'll see what happens.

I Guess I'm Just A Lucky Fucker

Hello everyone, see that picture? That's me at Prehistoric World yesterday. It's this awesome place where there's sculptures of dinosaurs the actual size that they were before they were extinct!

Anyways, I was there yesterday with my family and my boyfriend, and - guess what - a bird shit on me! I have been shit on my a bird three times in my life! People say it's lucky, is that true? I surely hope so!

So yeah, this is my blog where I write my journal-worthy ponderings. Hope I'm interesting enough!

-MonroeVampire