Moon Shadows

21 Answers: I don't think we're compatible

2011-04-23T09:16:00.000-07:00

I really cannot stand this song called 21 Questions. After years of being irritated about it I think it's long overdue that I write down why it bothers me.

The opening lyrics are not as bad as they could be. It starts off giving you a feeling that he could be looking for love:

New York City!
You are now rapping...with 50 Cent
You gotta love it...
I just wanna chill and twist a lot
Catch suns in my 7-45
You drive me crazy shorty I
Need to see you and feel you next to me
I provide everything you need and I
Like your smile I don't wanna see you cry
Got some questions that I got to ask and I
Hope you can come up with the answers babe

Then there the chorus:

Girl...It's easy to love me now
Would you love me if I was down and out? If it's really love then yes.
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...It's easy to love me now
Would you love me if I was down and out?
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...

Moving on to the second verse is where I start thinking he can't possibly be serious:

If I feel off tomorrow would you still love me? yes
If I didn't smell so good would you still hug me? probably not
If I got locked up and sentenced to a quarter century,
Could I count on you to be there to support me mentally? No, no, hell no. What the hell did you do to get locked up for 25 years? That's a pretty good crime and I don't need/want criminals in my life.
If I went back to a hoopty from a Benz, would you poof and disappear like
some of my friends? No, because I wouldn't love you because of your car.
If I was hit and I was hurt would you be by my side? Absolutely
If it was time to put in work would you be down to ride? If by work you mean peddling drugs (or something else illegal), not only are you on your own for a ride but you will also find yourself very single.
I'd get out and peel a nigga cap and chill and drive
I'm asking questions to find out how you feel inside Again, I won't be anywhere mixed up in that, and now I'm seeing why you're worried about your 25 years to life. Now we're tap dancing next to assault with a deadly weapon and murder. I'm NOT going to jail behind you. Not to mention that I can't be here to support you mentally if I'm in jail with you.
If I ain't rap 'cause I flipped burgers at Burger King
would you be ashamed to tell your friends you feelin' me? No.
And in bed if I used to my tongue, would you like that? If you ever get me in bed (i.e. marry me, and let me tell you it isn't looking all that promising), I'll let you know.
If I wrote you a love letter would you write back? Yeah
Now we can have a lil' drink you know a nightcap
And we could go do what you like, I know you like that I have a feeling what I like to do is far off the mark from what you like to do. I'd feel weird asking you to come and it'll be uncomfortable for the both of us.

And that's just the second verse. From there they go over the chorus, driving home the fact that real love is there through thick and thin. But the next verse starts asking questions that not only leave me with the impression that this guy is an idiot, but also angers me:

Now would you leave me if you're father found out I was thuggin'? I wouldn't take my father finding out. Once I figured out that that was your source of income we wouldn't be together.
Do you believe me when I tell you, you the one I'm loving? Unless you give me reason not to (i.e. show signs of serial infidelity), yes.
Are you mad 'cause I'm asking you 21 questions? No, they help us see if we are compatible.
Are you my soulmate? 'Cause if so, girl you a blessing I wouldn't hold my breath on that one.
Do you trust me enough, to tell me your dreams? If I love you, yes.
I'm staring at ya' trying to figure how you got in them jeans
If I was down would you say things to make me smile? Of course, I want to be there to build you up.
I treat you how you want to be treated just teach me how
If I was with some other chick and someone happened to see?
And when you asked me about it I said it wasn't me
Would you believe me? Or up and leave me?
How deep is our bond if that's all it takes for you to be gone? 1. You aren't treating me how I want to be treated if you're with some other girl. 2. If I believed you and you lied to me I'm not the one at fault and you're that much more of a jack wagon. 3. Why are you lying to me? You just told me that you were with her, own up to your mistakes. I won't take you lying to me. 4. Our bond obviously wasn't that deep if you can't stay faithful to me. Don't fault anyone but yourself for my leaving when I find out.
And always remember girl we make mistakes, to make it up I do whatever it take
I love you like a fat kid love cake Stop making so many mistakes and you wouldn't have to keep doing whatever it takes to make it up to me.
You know my style I say anything to make you smile Doesn't this mean that you'll make a habit of lying to me? That is not okay. I don't want a relationship built on lies.

Then again with the chorus and a bridge to carry the song out:

Could you love me in a Bentley? Yes
Could you love me on a bus? Yes
I'll ask 21 questions, and they all about us
Could you love me in a Bentley?
Could you love me on a bus?
I'll ask 21 questions, and they all about us

All in all, this relationship wouldn't work. I need our love to be honest. We make mistakes but I won't condone you lying to me, cheating on me, getting caught up in criminal acts, and expecting me to be your ride or die. He needs to choose a better mode of life. Even the questions I answer yes too seem iffy because his lifestyle lets me know that he's a loser.

Rules for Survival

2011-03-18T20:42:00.000-07:00

1) Don't be a creep, it's not nice

2) If you happen to not follow rule number 1 and you are a creep to someone, if while you're being a creep someone they start laughing at you... Beware! Chances are they know something you don't. Usually it's something that would hurt more to find out about than to remain ignorant of.

Diary of a disgruntled sales rep

2011-03-15T12:34:00.000-07:00

I hate children. Any child that I am exposed to for a prolonged period of time will, eventually, end up irritating me. Related or not. They all remind me at some point that I hate children. Generally it is those that are predisposed to misbehave that really get my goat. I've recently come to the conclusion, though, that majority of the reasons that I dislike children can be traced back to their parents' lack of parenting skills.

I work in a store that specializes in clothing private school students. It isn't an ideal job for me for the reasons that I have stated above. I try my hardest to deal with the parents and hope that they will put forth the effort to keep their child from acting like a complete imp. This, I know, is not the best way for me to complete the tasks in my job description. However, I find that there isn't any point of me trying to keep a child in line when the parents are acting as if their miniature demons cannot do any wrong. So for those out there who are a complete boob when it comes to parenting here is a list of ways to cause the sales representative to really hate you and your child.

Do not stare at your child and do nothing while they pull items off the racks. That is generally a grand time for you to step to the parenting plate and pitch a few in-store behavior guidelines.
Watch your child. I can assure you that it is not entertaining in the least for you to stand in one spot and yell your child's name several times to make sure they are still in the store every couple minutes. I can also assure you that when you start to call your child's name and I know who you are talking about and can point you in the right direction. that is not a good thing.
Do not allow your child to climb on the sales rack. If you are not doing the previous point, by all means stop them once you find them. It shouldn't take a story of some child being decapitated by the same apparatus that your child is currently playing of to get you to say "get down."
In the case of uniforms, do not stop every 20 seconds to ask your child's opinion. It's a school uniform, everyone at the school has to where it. Make sure it fits, buy it, and then tell said child to get over it.
Do not reward bad behavior. When a child does something they shouldn't and you smile at them or comment on how cute that is, that let's them know that what they are doing is ok. It's not. When a few years pass and you're trying to figure out why this brat is out of control, refer yourself to the trips to the store as part of the beginning of the problem.
Do not give your child my displays as toys. My items are not there for your child's destructive pleasure. Chances are your kid has more than enough crap at home to amuse their shortsighted minds. Bring one of those with you when you go out so that I'm not having to mend what they break.
My office supplies are also not your child's toys. If you would rather not have a child write of something, don't hand them a pen just because they whine for it.
Do not use my store as a Tumblin Tots gym. Teach your child that there are certain activities that are acceptable in a store and ones that are acceptable on a playground only.
Clean up the mess your child makes. It is my job to maintain a clean sales floor, yes. It is not my job to play maid for your misbehaving, over-indulged, poorly managed brat. You are not giving me a job by allowing your me to clean the mess your child has made of my store. You are making my job harder and me bitter.
Finally, if you want to avoid your child throwing a fit when you tell them no, tell the no and stand by your no on a regular basis.

In short, I hate your children. If any of the aforementioned points has stepped on your toes, I hate your children specifically. And also, I hate you for not teaching your children and giving me reason to hate them. Your children are going to grow up to be a pompous creeps and it will be your fault. All of it will be your fault.

More books

2010-11-21T18:53:00.000-08:00

I contrived a reading list on at the close of December of 2008. I didn't complete it but I did add some variations to the list that I was planning on reading. Over the two years since I have put this list together (a result of my lack of control when it comes to shopping at book stores) I managed to read my way through a twenty book series and maintain my stand of not finishing the Harry Potter series until all of the movies have been screened. Below is my book list extended with the extra books I've read as well as those I am now planning to read.

THE BOOK LIST

~~The Count of Monte Cristo (Complete and Unabridged)~~ ~~Alexandre Dumas~~
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Douglas Adams
The Arabian Nights Barnes and Noble Classics Edition
Wicked Gregory Maguire
Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister Gregory Maguire
Mansfield Park Jane Austen
Emma Jane Austen
Mirror Mirror Gregory Maguire
Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen
The Devil Wears Prada Lauren Weisberger
~~P.S. I Love You~~ ~~Cecelia Ahern~~
~~In Her Shoes~~ ~~Jennifer Weiner~~
~~Sense and Sensibility~~ ~~Jane Austen~~
Northanger Abbey Jane Austen
Persuasion Jane Austen
Lady Susan Jane Austen
Les Miserables Victor Hugo
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe Douglas Adams
Life, the Universe and Everything Douglas Adams
So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish Douglas Adams
Mostly Harmless Douglas Adams
Young Zaphod Plays It Safe Douglas Adams
~~Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone~~ ~~J. K. Rowling~~
~~Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets~~ ~~J. K. Rowling~~
~~Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkahban~~ ~~J. K. Rowling~~
~~Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire~~ ~~J. K. Rowling~~
~~Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix~~ ~~J. K. Rowling~~
~~Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince~~ ~~J. K. Rowling~~
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
-though not until after July of 2011
~~Turning Tables~~ ~~Heather & Rose MacDowell~~
Shoots to Kill Kate Collins
Sinister Sudoku Kaye Morgan
An Abundance of Katherines John Green
Dead Witch Walking Kim Harrison
Guilty Pleasures Laurell K. Hamilton
~~The Laughing Corpse~~ ~~Laurell K Hamilton~~
Circus of the Damned Laurell K Hamilton
The Lunatic Cafe Laurell K Hamilton
Bloody Bones Laurell K Hamilton
The Killing Dance Laurell K Hamilton
Burnt Offerings Laurell K Hamilton
Blue Moon Laurell K Hamilton
Obsidian Butterfly Laurell K Hamilton
Narcissus in Chains Laurell K Hamilton
Cerulean Sins Laurell K Hamilton
Incubus Dreams Laurell K Hamilton
Micah Laurell K Hamilton
Danse Macabre Laurell K Hamilton
The Harlequin Laurell K Hamilton
Blood Noir Laurell K Hamilton
Skin Trade Laurell K Hamilton
Flirt Laurell K Hamilton
Bullet Laurell K Hamilton
Hit List Laurell K Hamilton
~~Fahrenheit 451~~ ~~Ray Bradburg~~
Twentysomething Margeret Feinberg
The First Death Laurell K Hamilton
Gil Elvgren: All His Glamorous American Pin-Ups Charles G. Martignette & Louis K. Meisel
The Good, The Bad, and The Undead Kim Harrison
~~Every Which Way But Dead Kim Harrison~~
A Fistful of Charms Kim Harrison
For a Few Demons More Kim Harrison
The Outlaw Demon Wails Kim Harrison
White Witch, Black Curse Kim Harrison
Black Magic Sanction Kim Harrison
Pale Demon Kim Harrison
Harry Potter: Wizarding Magic Brian Sibley

In an effort to keep this relatively short I'm going to wrap this up here. I'll do a follow up containing the complete list of books that I'm planning on reading in the months to come. I will also note that I have found only one book that goes against my belief that the book is always better than it's movie counterpart. And on that note, goodnight.

Only I can be this convoluted. Why?

2010-09-02T19:55:00.000-07:00

I have a girl crush.

What is a girl crush?

A girl crush is for a straight girl what a man crush is for a straight man. That is when a straight girl has a "crush" on another girl, not sexual but kind of idolizing her. Unfortunately my girl crush takes it a few steps further. I'm tacking on these few requirements for as I'm a girl and I can get away with more before being called a lesbian. For all intensive purposes one or both of the following apply:

You are attracted to a person of the same sex.
You are turned on by a person of the same sex.

This, of course, is when you don't typically have such feelings for those of the same sex. I, while straight, am attracted to a woman. Therefore I have a girl crush. Sorry Kristen Stewart, but I've just upped your creepy circumstances meter, you as Joan Jett in The Runaways gives me butterflies every time.

This is so much further along than I care to admit. However I feel that if I put it out in the world that I might get over this. I go through the performances in the movie to catch glimpses of her. I slow the film down in order to watch her look up from her guitar. The smoky eyes, the thick eyeliner. The gum chewing. Until now I thought that there was no sexy way to chew anything. I stand corrected. Then there's just her look. I think that's more Kristen than Joan, but whoever is showing through has got it. I don't even know what "it" is. All I know is that it makes me smile and I have to shake my head to clear it and focus. And her hair. I sigh when I think about her hair. Short, black and long enough to move when she plays but short enough to stay out of her face. I can't forget the face, her face. The way she looks at you with the intensity that can say so much. The way she can smile with only the slightest curve of her mouth...

okok, I'm out of it.

All of this and she isn't even real. The actual Joan Jett, in all her glory (and there is a lot of glory) just isn't the same. This girl who is on drugs but brilliant. There are so many things that say no yet I'm still metaphorically running towards her. This is cruel. I need this to pass. I have no idea what to do with myself, how to get over this. I have a headache.

Banana Pudding!

2010-08-22T20:17:00.001-07:00

So yesterday today was approaching. What was so special about today was that it was the last day for our summer staff at my nine to five. I just recently finished revamping my cookbook and excited as I was for my finished product I took the book to my job and showed it off. I had everyone looking through it, which lead to the "you should cook something for us and bring it to work." Not being able to actually say no to these guys, I gathered up the necessary ingredients and prepared for my first experience of wholly from scratch cooking.

First of all, it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. It definitely was interesting, but not that bad. I got to rig my own double boiler (all those years of watching Food network have proven useful, thank you Alton Brown). I mixed the ingredients a little out of order which, I think, is what resulted in the very slightly gritty texture as an end product. My pudding ended thick...not too runny. It was sweet as expected and no disaster happened as result of me upping the ingredients by 50% in order to have some for home and work. I didn't have to scrap a first or second batch though I was worried at first due to the ingredient order debacle. Everyone was telling me that it was great. I don't think that I have that many people in my life who will eat it and tell me it was good, let alone great, in order to spare my feelings.

I'm deeming my first try at Banana Pudding a success. I slightly gritty success that will get better as I keep making it. I would like to thank my inspirations. Catharine, thanks for you're making me cupcakes for my birthday. Sara, thanks for sharing that cooking is you unwind method. And Ellen and Matt, thanks for my not wanting to tell you know because you happen to be awesome.

I did it! No, not that...

2010-08-20T21:19:00.000-07:00

When I was little I would watch my Aunt Maria in the kitchen while she cooked. I admit I found a lot of pleasure in just sitting on the sideline. I even helped a few times. As one of my birthday's approached she asked my what I wanted. I replied that I wanted a cookbook. I wanted her recipes so that I could continue to cook the family favorites.

She gave me one. My very own cookbook titled, very originally, Jasmine's Cook Book: From Aunt Maria 07/01. (I received apologies for the misspelled name.) In this book was a collection of recipes that, while I'm not certain, I believe she gathered from a plethora of sources as well as her own that make appearances at all the major family gatherings.

I loved it! I had it for years...granted I didn't use it much, but it was awesome. Since then I collected recipes that I wanted to try. I wanted to add them into my cookbook but they didn't seem to fit in. My book in though, all it's glory, lacked a few things such as organization. There was no table of contents. Sometimes there would be a beginning of a recipe here and the end of it five pages later. Or a beginning of a recipe with no ending and vice versa.

Well, as my senses grew this just wasn't enough. I wanted to add my own and organize those recipes that were there. Then out of nowhere my friend Meagan dumped 10 back issues of Rachel Ray's magazine in my lap and it was a done deal. I really perused Jasmine's Cook Book and put recipes together as well as sorted the recipes into some sort of semblance of order. I spent weeks going through the mags, finding what I wanted to try and vetoing the not-gonna-happens, cutting them out and sorting them into groups of main ingredients. With that finished I started pasting them to sheets of colored card paper all while cataloging what was on what page. Then the arts and crafts portion was done and I had to move into the most difficult part: manufacturing a numbering system for order and some semblance of professionalism. I have to say it's the most professional part of the entire book. I now have a 20-page Table of Contents to organize the 430something recipes into list that sort them by main ingredients as well as by page number and alphabetically. All of this I have compiled into *drum roll please* Jasmin's Cookbook: From Aunt Maria 07/01 Enhanced by me 08/10

I would just like to say that I appreciate the foundation that my Aunt Maria gave me in 2001 (I still can't believe that it's been that long) and that I'm excited about this same book all over again. I made a few mistakes that I refused to go back and fix...(e.g. the Apple Stuffed Sausages in the dessert section), but it's not to shabby if I may say so myself. Here's a couple more pics.

What sucks before you die? Life

2010-07-25T20:33:00.000-07:00

Wow, I didn't think I would discuss this online. I feel like my life has come at a standstill. I'm watching my friends either moving forward quickly or being complacent with what they have. I even see those having a quarter-life crisis without any means to get out, yet still managing to keep going. I'm told to look at how I want to spend the rest of my life. I don't have a clue. Or if I stumble upon an inkling...I have no idea how to get there. I spend my time tripping over the big picture, not knowing where to begin. Breaking down issues and solving them in sections is not a strong point of mine. I look at the entire clusterf**k and crap myself.

I can do anything. That's what the adults try to program into you when you're young. You can do anything. Well truth, you can't . Not only can you not do anything, but there will definitely be things that they will try to dissuade you against. I want to act. It is a passion of mine. It is not, however, the most secure of careers. Not impossible, but when you are used to security the choice between going out on a limb and settling down leaves you with the premature chills of the lonely breeze on that limb or the regret and boredom of not doing something you love. I'm stuck.

I want to live a life that I love. Problem is that so do other people. There will always be someone better than me. ALWAYS! I will have to struggle for that. Things have not been nor will they be handed to me.

I want to live a life where I don't have monetary problems. Problem: there will always be monetary problems. More money, more problems. And finding a steady job and reveling in it when the only stimulation I get is from my brand new calculator... I'll get bored and burn out. I can't help be see myself losing my job from not having any initiative, well no thanks.

I have recently evaluated my living situation. I hate it. The self-proclaimed proverb I learned in church is ringing in my ears lately. "Life sucks, then you die." I'm allowing this to weigh in on my entire perception of life. I hate my living arrangement. I hate my job. I hate my commute to work. I hate the pointless/useless feeling I feel whenever I get to work. Then how it remains with me as I navigate throughout the day. I hate getting out of bed. I hate being alone. I hate that I seem to not be able to appreciate anything at all. It sucks. Work sucks. Home sucks. In between sucks. I'm floating. Not actively moving forward or going anywhere. I complain about everything, yet do nothing. I'm not changing it, so why am I complaining?

Because it's easy.

Action is hard. Getting up and fighting for a better day requires work. It all requires work. I keep telling myself that if I won't do anything about it, I have no place to complain. I'm ready to work (or hopefully my lack of fulfillment will push me). I have to improve my life. I want to like something...and I would love to love something much more. I need to move forward. Step out of my quarter-life crisis and do something. I want to try another passion of mine on for size. I want to go back to school. And just to keep me on my toes, consider a double major.

Steps to take:

apply to University of North Texas
research Development Family Studies
contact SAT for my scores
contact ACT for my scores
contact high school for my transcript
apply for FASFA
contact loan personnel
see what ever else is needed and do it
find a new job
save money to get a car
celebrate for moving forward

All of these will be done in whatever order necessary. Just as long as they get done. I'm aiming to be enrolled in school for the 2011-12 school year. Here's praying for a life worth living.

Don't blame me.

2010-04-13T22:16:00.000-07:00

I am into Pin-Up art. I love the artistry of the many artist. I love the fluidity of the body movement captured by oil paints on canvas. I love the life placed into the drawings. I love the story and evolution of the iconic pin-up girls, from the Armstrong girl to the Vargas girl. I love Pin-Up. The sexuality of it. The blithe and seemingly lithe qualities of it. I love the art of it. I know from experience that to deny the sexuality of it will turn me into the the-girl-who-denies-to-much. I also know that with the title "Pin-Up" comes the understanding of what some consider soft-core porn. That is not my problem.

Over the years Pin-Up has fascinated me. I couldn't truly tell you why without making myself look or feel bad. With everybody trying to place me under certain labels it was hard for me to stand by and express myself freely. Now that I have delved into the history of the art I find myself facing further scrutiny. Everyone has an opinion on everything. That doesn't bother me until I feel trapped. If I throw something in your face that you don't agree with it is your right to let me know.

Situation: I got a new book on the art of Gil Elvgren. I brought it to work. This book is believed to have 98% of his art compiled together. I took the dust jacket off to avoid and issues about the risqué art on the cover. The book without the dust jacket is black with only the title. I had someone take it upon themselves to open the book and flip through the pages. There was no time for me to explain what it was. There wasn't even time for me to warn about the nudity. They flipped through the book stopping to look at the nudes and giving their opinion. I later was given a talk about how in the future I shouldn't have that book or ones similar to it with me. Someone could take offense and report me.

Reflection: You took it upon yourself to peruse my private property. If you had left my things alone or looked only instead of touched, you wouldn't have known about the racier content (for the book was closed). This is not my fault. You cannot chastise me for something that you took upon yourself to indulge in without invitation. I feel that the advice that was given me was not earned. Instead I shall return the favor: in the future, do not take it upon yourself to go through things that do not concern you. If it isn't yours, leave it alone.

Situation: In the event of needing somewhere to send my items bought online, I have it sent to a friend's house who also happens to be the host of my weekly bible study. The person whose house it is does not mind the art. In fact her only request is that it is not flaunted in front for her son. As much I understand. My sole appreciation of the art of Pin-Up does not fall in the nudes. It is not my mission to sway the steadfast beliefs of the men of that house. Or even to trip them up. This is not for them, it's for me. I recently had two more books sent to their house. I left them both sitting on the the table where I'd removed them from their packaging. One of the other guest saw them, chose to pick up the book titled 1000 Pin-Up Girls, flip through it and cause herself to become angry. I then received a stern talking to about the objectification of women. How these images were all there to give men a happy thought to masturbate to. How it belittled the motivation behind WWII and Vietnam war because the pin-up girls was chosen as a mascot of many troops and plastered on planes. Every argument I had was shot down. This person happens to be apart of a coalition to get women out of the terrible ring of prostitution. As much I was aware. She hates everything that stems the thought that the only thing that a woman can offer a man has to do with sex. That is an amazing thing to stand by. She has placed herself above all things that objectify women. She feels that the only image a Pin-Up girl can give is a sexual one. And yet, she still took it upon herself to open the book that clearly labeled itself for what it was. A walk through the top 1000 pin-up girls.

Reflection: You hate things that objectify women. You see something lying there that has every clue that it will go down an alley that you do not agree with. Do you leave it alone because it isn't yours? No, you take it upon yourself to start finding where you should point the blame. You then choose to not only, point premeditated fingers but to pick up the book to confirm if it is as awful as the title preludes. When it is, you are hyped up and ready to fight. I am thankful for the words of the young man originally accused for owning my books. After the person expressed the continued fact that the women are objectified by men, he states that some women chose to allow themselves to be objectified so the blame isn't all on men. I then remember words from a favorite movie of mine. "Since when is women simply a helpless animal?" We have just as much control over our lives as men do. Just because there are some that are lost in the thought that they are not worth anything, doesn't mean we are all confused about where we stand in the world. She hates that the book was about women selling they're body images, but she took it upon herself to look at the images. I did not shove it in her face. I merely forgot to put it away. If she feels so strongly about it, she should have left it alone. Do not rebuke me for having a part in the process of teaching girls that sex is their only image. Do not take it upon yourself to go through things that do not concern you. You looked at the book, took in it's title and immediately started forming your negative opinions on the subject. Then you got mad that the images in the book followed suit to what the term Pin-Up means to you. Don't get mad at me because you can't let sleeping dogs lie. If it bothers you so much, then by all means don't partake in it in any fashion. That means don't look at it, don't touch it, don't give yourself reason to talk about it. Translation: don't look at my books, don't touch them, don't fuss at me because you can't leave well enough alone.

Why do people feel the need to touch and remark. It isn't yours. Leave it alone. Leave me alone, unless I deserve it by shoving it in your face when you do not agree. If you can't handle it, keep your opinions to yourself. No one's asking you to undergo this great ordeal. If you want nothing to do with it...by all means LEAVE. IT. ALONE.

I don't know, I'm just...

2010-02-04T09:58:00.001-08:00

I'm. So... Tired.

Tired of being angry.

Tired of being sad.

Tired of being down.

Tired of being frustrated.

Tired of being disrespected.

I'm tired of having to bank on my "me time" being interrupted.

Tired of people in my space.

Tired of my things being moved.

Tired of passive aggressive comments.

Tired of not communicating.

Tired of being discouraged.

Tired of being afraid to move forward.

Tired of not being able to explain what I'm feeling.

Of being unable to see through this fog.

Of going nowhere.

I'm tired.

Tired of...

I'm just tired.

Interesting

2010-01-28T20:02:00.001-08:00

I think there's a fine line between being a slut and being classy. I walk in between that line. - Katy Perry

I like being a woman, even in a man's world. After all, men can't wear dresses, but we can wear the pants. - Whitney Houston

I don't play that disrespectful hoe shit. And if I catch you with my man, disrespecting, I will beat your ass...and his ass. - Kimora Lee Simmons

Women might be able to fake orgasms. But men can fake whole relationships.
- Sharon Stone

Nothing against men...I just liked it.

Gone...I know, not the right boy band.

2010-01-09T09:59:00.000-08:00

Every once in a while I am hit with the big realization. Paul Kevin Jonas, Jr. is married. I mean married. Taken. Off the market. A fish that isn't one of the plenty in the sea. He's married.

As an adult I am trying not to be one of the many woman who mourned the day he said "I do" to the girl he's lucky to have (that's right, I said it. Ask him, I'm sure he'd say the same), but being that he is my age he was the only one I could fantasize about dating. The calm yet fun one. Not afraid to laugh and in possession of the dreamy deep voice.

I know a tidal wave of grief swept the nation. Many men, women and children are trying to come to grips with this prized member of the Jonas Brothers having no more need for his purity ring. I am hoping that his wife (that's right, get used to it) doesn't have to deal with the crazies...ladies, he won't leave her because you threaten to kill her. If you endanger her your chances with him will go to nil. Keep your idle threats, letters, and glares to yourself. Go find the nice boy that's been looking at you for the past year or so and date him.

I am a huge fan of the Kevin Jonas...of the Jonas Brothers in general. So here's praying that this marriage continues to be a testament to love. I wish nothing but happiness to Danielle and Kevin Jonas.

Now a word from Lili

2009-12-02T10:41:00.000-08:00

That's pronounced leelee. It is short for Literal Linda. She is going to be voice of the thoughts that I take literally when people say it's a joke. Lili understands that the ideas that people place out in the world under the guise of flippant are not always. We (ahem, that is to say I) will be exploring the world through these literal eyes. This will make some people angry.

Lili writes:

So the whole six weeks of playing the same seven songs...I don't care how you mix is, it is the same song...has begun. Now there are only three weeks left. Like I'm sad about it ending.

Of all these songs that are continuously grating on my nerves "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" happens to be my most hated.

I absolutely Hate. That. Song. It is the worst. What is it with these kids that they are so against their moms? Then the only way for the mothers to confess themselves innocent to ruin the aspect of Santa delivered gifts. So either it's I-hate-my-mom-because-she-cheated-on-my-dad or it's all-this-time-dad-pretended-to-be-Santa. Either way sucks. It is the beginning of youth passing through to leave jaded young individuals.

Okay, one for her too.

2009-12-02T08:53:00.001-08:00

With her it's an automatic role of sophisticate that does the announcement.

Ladies and Gentlemen, (yes I have to start with this cliche, it just works for me)
(an hush falls over the crowd)
We've watched her rob banks and run with the vampires.
Go on blind dates with for her mother and take trips in space with her brothers.
And now she is here. Direct your eyes to the stage and witness the amazing.
She brought to life our favorite plain Jane, though she is not plain at all.
Ladies and Gentlemen I give you
(^for some reason it feels right to say this a second time)

Kristen Stewart

More work history in this one. Now I'm wondering what event would warrant an introduction of this kind. I don't watch enough events to know. Looks like I need to start cuing in on my competitions. Ha!

For some reason I wanted to write this intro for him

2009-12-02T08:37:00.000-08:00

I don't know why.

Ladies and Gentlemen,
What you've all been waiting for.
He's what all the girls dreams are made of.
The next in line member of the wolf pack.
Ladies and gentlemen put your hands together for the hottie with the body,

Mister Taylor Lautner

Now the emphasis on the words of this announcement changes from wanting to be ring master to attendee of an awards show. It started as me wanting to introduce him as if I was at the circus. But for some reason that equates male voice to me. Then when I changed it to awards ceremony, it lost it's excitement. Instead it went to sultry, elegant woman. The one with the arched eyebrows and PERFECT makeup. With the former rush some phrases and allow myself to be a tad crude. I get to be loud. With the latter I have to approach the words softly and insert phrases like "for lack of better words." I don't know which one is more fun. I feel an interview coming after both, but still. Ring master garb, or spend the night as an elegant lady? Decisions, decisions.

I do enjoy where my mind takes me.

Hide the kids...the whites are coming!

2009-10-07T08:12:00.000-07:00

When I look at my friends and force myself to focus on race, I find that most of them are white. To this I say "So what?" What is the big deal with a girl hanging out with more of the opposite race than her own? Why is there a quota on the amount of black people a black person should hang out with? And why do the select black people have to be a certain type of black to count? These questions were apart of my everyday life. I am a black, dark skinned, oreo, African American, whatever you want to call it...I'm not white. However, most of my friends (best friends) are. I have searched my soul to figure out why. Since everyone else has an opinion about it, it's time I answer the question for myself.

I enjoy the company of my friends. I like being able to laugh at the silliest of things. I love how they keep me grounded. While I am with them I don't have to be anything other than myself. Isn't that what friendship is about? Apparently not...I mean sure you want those qualities in your friends...just in those of the same race and ethnicity. Right?

Let's compare. When I hang out with the "certain" type of black person (the one that counts) I have to act as if I am in to rap music. I'm not. I have to get down with belittling myself and them with ridiculous put downs and terrible language. Don't get me wrong...I can cuss like a sailor at any given point. However in the long run that is not how I want to present myself. Everything I do has an affect on someone or something, whether I realize it or not. I don't want to leave that as a trail behind me. What good does that do?

I have always been a people pleaser. If I am going to be apart of a group I want to be one of the favorite members. It's my nature. When it comes down to the people I surround myself with, I want people to walk away thinking that I can hang with the best of them. Keeping my personal image in mind, that limits those that I want to be associated with.

I have received the same comment on more than one occasion. "Those white people don't care about you." To this I now say, "what do you know? You're blinded by hate." Refusing to accept that different race relationships are proof that people can love anyone. What is in that? Classifying an entire people as not being able to care about me. I don't understand why my crowd was so wrong. My brother and sister had white coaches and they never received that comment. What was so wrong with my friends? I didn't stay out with them until all hours of the night. I never had to sneak out to go see them. We weren't hanging around skipping school, drinking or smoking. Most, if not all, of my close friends were abstaining from sex until marriage. They kept me grounded in life not at home without phone privileges. We were the ones who graduated at the top of our class. They were the ones that had me put a filter on my disrespectful language. But they are the ones that don't care about me? Some of my best and favorite teachers that helped me excel were white. They knew be better than most. They encouraged me, nurtured me...but they don't care? Why are the people I am surrounded by the bad ones? They kept my performance in school top-notch. We enjoyed ourselves without fear that what we were doing would get us in trouble. Why are they're friends favored? The people who were smoking, drinking, having sex, pregnancies and abortions. Those that were being benched do to disrespectful behavior. That's the "certain" kind of black person to which I am supposed flock? That's the person that cares about me? The one who will sooner put me in a bad situation as look at me?That doesn't make any sense to me.

I know that there are some serious stereotypes in here. No particular race has an entire body that is one way. I know that. This is just a comparison of what I have in my life versus what I have been pointed toward. I don't like what I have myself become in order to enjoy myself with a predominantly black crowd. I just cannot find the correct black crowd that would count as black. People who have things in common with me are oreos. I don't get it.

Try to understand

2009-07-12T18:16:00.000-07:00

I want to put this out there. So that people will finally get this out so there are no questions. I really hope that people are going to take this tibit of information and store it for future reference.

"Everything I do is NOT up for discussion. I do not have to explain myself. I did it. Deal with it. Just because I tell you about it doesn't mean that we have to discuss it. It doesn't mean that we have to go over how prudent it was or was not for me to have gone down that route. I am an adult and, believe it or not, I know what I am doing. I did it. It's done."

So, in the future, if I change the subject or end the phone conversation it's because of the previous tibit. I do not want to talk about it. No lectures, no discussions, nothing. It's done and over. Leave it alone.

put it all in perspective for you

2009-07-06T19:49:00.000-07:00

I wonder if I will be wanting to say this if the situation rises...

exfriend: I slept with your boyfriend.

Friend 1: How could you?!?

exfriend: I'm glad I did it.

You: I'm sure you are. Sleeping with him has always been a dream of yours, right? Tell me, did he bother to take off all of his clothes while he was doing you? You were the temporary solution to hurt feelings. So, you know what that makes you, uh besides easy? That's makes you a thought that can be forgotten as soon as it came up. We allow one mistake each in our relationship. You were his. I hope he enjoyed you. It doesn't make him any less mine, or you any more his. You hold on to that kiss on the cheek that I'm sure he gave you, 'cause that's all you have left.

This is all oozing with dramatic looks and feeling being hurt. Then followed with a great dramatic exit. Riiight.

Suicide...emotional, at least.

2009-07-06T16:44:00.000-07:00

Love...irritating. From watching it to participating in it. All of it, from the love of hobbies and animals to the love of family. From the love of friends to the passionate love of a significant lover. Irritating. That is the way that I feel about it and therefore I am a glutton for punishment, for I continue to base my pleasures in life on the works of love.

When I was in middle school I made my first assertion on why I was afraid of falling in love. From the depths of my twelve or thirteen year old mind I pulled some of my first philosophical workings...or so I like to think.

"Falling in love is like jumping off of a cliff into the ocean. I'm afraid that I am going to make that jump and while I'm falling I'll find that there is no water to catch me. Instead all that is there is the ground." -younger me.

That was how I felt of love. How I still feel, only with more things accompanying. Love is amazingly self-serving and stupid. What a ridiculous concept to destroy yourself as you are (no matter how content) to add another set of opinions and objections. All of this while knowing that there is really no way to please the both of you (with compromise comes the inability to reach one's true happiness, so to live a life based on compromise is depressing). Yet, as a human we want someone to be there and support us. To have someone in our corner to understand and show us that we are not alone. We are willing to reach for this fairy tale companion ship and to receive every forthcoming nightmare that rides on the prospect of idea of being in this "next" stage of life.

The next "stage," a new "level." The insanity of it is absolutely preposterous. Nothing is able to stay the same. From mannerisms to ideas of life. The paths that one had once decided to walk upon are all of sudden unimportant. The rules of the society forces upon us the notion that one must forget themselves and take to this other. But what happens if the only one forgetting is you? What happens if your attempts to do as much are disregarded? If you chose because society said you should...and now your choice is proving to be the biggest trial and error of your life? What then? Pick up and go again? Find the self you abandoned to be who you are now? Or just find that there are no rebates, that you are stuck with where you are and what you've got?

We do all this for love. Endure change, sacrifice, all for the hope that it is worth it...not guarantee, hope. There isn't much left in the world that we would do that for, especially in today's instant gratification society. What a thing to waste life on, to fear, to partake in. How do I know this? I might not have been in love, but I have loved to the point of obsession. I chase love. Chase it to beyond the point of logic. Even when I know that it isn't good for me, espectially when it isn't good for me. The obsession, the want to be with them, for them, plan my entire life around them regardless the lack of good that will do for me. I've been there. With friends, with family. I can only imagine what will come of me when the love that "One" is what's driving me. Everything I loathe, everything I resent will be exactly the path I walk down because of love. I may not have been "in love" but I have loved and the whole concept is stupid.

Love is emotional suicide.

How many of me...

2009-07-06T12:45:00.000-07:00

A few years back I went to Howmanyofme.com to see how many people have my name. Well, I was told that there were two. Just two. And I was excited to hear it. I mean, with my spelling it's more unique...with the last name not being hispanic.

My best friend is the first thing that comes up when you type his name in Google. I wanted to see exactly what came up when I google'd me. I am very dissapointed to find that there are at least four other people with my name. Go figure. Between this site, Facebook.com and Myspace I am doing more than dabbling in the internet...how ever the only thing that comes up of me is an article in the city newspaper that mentioned me. Something about some play I did when I was in high school (don't get me wrong, it is one of my shining moments). It's the seventh thing that comes up. What I find funniest is that a sublink to one of my friend's facebook page comes up but not mine.

I guess it makes me happy that I am not that easily tracked down...not that anyone is looking.

I stand corrected...

2009-05-07T08:15:00.001-07:00

but this will probably be the only time, so the percentage of this occurrence is just about non-existent.

I prefer the movie The Devil Wears Prada over the book. This has never happened to me. I am the first to contest to the book always being better. Always. However, even though the drama was jam-packed with amazing adventures - things that could not have been portrayed on the big screen without boring the audience to tears - the shortened and tweaked story line of the movie is slightly more enjoyable.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the book. It's just that a story about people not supporting your fight for success, a best friend developing into a raging alcoholic, and everyone everywhere swearing that they understand but refuse to lighten the guilt trips is borderline un-enjoyable in book format. I will give the writer kudos to the scene where Andrea quits. Actually saying "Fuck you, Miranda. Fuck you." followed by stating that she was done and topping it off with Miranda's famous, "That's all." Fan-freaking-tanstic! I do enjoy the book showing a slight companionship between Andrea and Emily, more detail on the ridiculous tasks Miranda assigns, and better look into Andrea's personal life. Though the movie wins me over in the end with an absence of Andrea's smoking habit, more Nigel, less friend drama, Christian being a debonair saint and less of an arrogant jerk, Miranda's job not being threatened, and Andrea learning how to dress herself (she never quite figured that out in the book).

In the end - and I can't believe I'm saying it - the movie wins.

Customer Service Sucks

2009-04-26T23:22:00.000-07:00

When will people realize that when you are nice the person doing you a favor, you will get more out of that favor?

I witnessed it today. A person comes into a store and wants the manager to honor a price that was mistakenly placed on the box. It's funny how quickly someone finds the limits to their authority when you piss them off. My manager had all the knowledge and authorization needed to help the customer. However, the more she bitched the more things he realized he just couldn't do.

Believe it or not, the customer service reps want to help you. Without you we have nothing to do. It's when you take out your anger with the company on us that we lose interest in anything you need. We are not trying to piss you off. We are human and make mistakes...we aren't trying to steal your money. I'll one up this:

I am not trying to piss you off. (Until you piss me off, then I don't give a damn.)

I am not trying to steal your money. (I am a human who makes mistakes. It is possible to miscount.)

I would love to help you, but stupid people make me angry. When I'm angry you are not what I care about.

Moral: Be nice to the customer service rep and you just might get what you need. Piss off the customer service rep and you will lose.

simple, silver circle

2009-03-07T07:38:00.000-08:00

To many people it's just a ring. A ring that I wear everyday, without fail. A ring that I have worn since I was a sophomore in high school. Not in the least bit ornate, just a silver ring.

To me however it is a promise. A promise made before God, the witnesses in the church, and my family and friends. A promise that I will treat my fellow women with the utmost respect, that I will hold fast to greater virtues than my fellow man, and that I will abstain from sexual intercourse until I am married.

Any promise made comes with a cost. For in promising the last I made a vow to live my life alone and only pass through the most trivial of relationships. I made a promise that barred me against finding what I want because no one abstains from sex when they can find it anywhere. When 199 out of 200 girls are saying yes why waste time with the ones who are saying no? I heard of studies that say marriages where the people waited until after there vows to have sex usually end in affairs so the people can see what else is out there. A person can't even be said to have a friend of the opposite sex without people claiming that they are sexually active with one another. In a world where it is so common, how can a girl find someone who will rise above the rest.

You never see someone change their disposition so quickly as when you tell them no. I've had men ask me to go get a room after knowing me for twenty minutes. I've been propositioned twice without having even exposed myself. I've had a pending realtionship die in twleve hours. I've even had a guy congratulate me for my commitment one moment just to try to talk me out of it the next. But why would I want any of them to begin with? Why would I even bother to long for a man who has no respect for me? I don't. My anger comes from it constantly being the same problem. From being perceived as piece of meat and not getting any respect becaue so many women prior to me have allowed him to believe that this is the way it should be.

I'm tired of living in a world where a guy get a pat on the back for disrespecting girl after girl.

I'm tired of living in a world where women are the only ones held accountable for the amount of people with whom they had sex.

I'm facing the fact that because I refuse to put myself out there that most men won't bother to waste their time with me.

I'm facing the fact that since sex is the key to a good relationship in this world that the men who do bother with me won't stick around for long.

I'm trying to cope with being and staying alone, because even though I feel the full weight of this small, silver ring on my left hand I won't rescind my promise.

Another eventful day...yeah, I should be so lucky

2009-02-05T11:29:00.000-08:00

Boredom.

Pull item out of the box. Make sure it is the correct item. Make sure the correct amount was sent. Check this product off a list of hundreds. Set it aside to be put on the sales floor. Next item.

Do this over and over again. Get interrupted by unimportant phone calls. Return to the checklist slightly irritated.

Boredom.

A customer. Try to take care of them as quickly and as cordially as possible. Attempt to return to the checklist.

Get interrupted by a solicitor. Realize that you are not in the mood. Wonder where a "NO SOLICITORS" sign would best fit in the window. They go away.

Boredom.

Return to the checklist with even less motivation. Dream about a dream job. Wonder why this job so completely unstimulating. Shrug yourself out of the should-of-could-of-would-of mind set and accept your job for what it is...

Boredom.

Of all the things to interrupt my sleep...

2009-02-04T07:34:00.000-08:00

why does it have to be stupidity? Well, actually the initial issue was a woman's inconsiderate decision. She got on the bus and decided that she wanted to make the bus driver's efforts of warming the bus completely moot by opening a window. Gee, thanks. And here I was thinking that I could make through one trip without my feet feeling like ice. She, however, was not the problem. They came when she got off the bus. The men who took her place were stupid. As I sit in the back of the bus -on one of the two seats that face the aisle- a man sits across from me. Following him are two other men who decided to sit on the very last seat that stretches across the entire back of the bus. The one across from me pulls out a black and mild -I thought that he had broken it and was going to try and repair it...I was wrong. He proceeds to empty out the contents in order to replace them with marajuana. Oh, goodie. I'm sitting in the middle of a drug deal. Then to completely display their stupidity they then go about asking each other the prices that they sell their cheese and wondering if each other are on pills because they can, and I quote, "get them any time whenever they want." Of course there always has to be one bigger idiot of the group. The man in the corner across from me had on swim goggles and was tweaking. He spent the entire ten minutes that they destroyed my morale with their presences switching back between rapping and speaking a monologue with barely enough space to breathe. Talking about how one of his dogs killed his cat, about the color of his dog, about wanting a new cat, about trying and not succeeding to pick up girls at a mall, and he kept trying to locate a mall where he can do whatever (probably deal drugs). All of this was background noise while his friend -the one with the marajuana- tried to make conversation with me. I don't want to talk to you, you're just as stupid as your friend.

Losers, they always flock to me.

There still are nice people in the world.

2009-01-27T07:29:00.000-08:00

Everyday I catch the bus at the same time. Every day I fight myself to get up in the morning. And every day I grab a plethora of things in order to make it through the day. As a creature of habit, I realize that if I grab something that I don't usually bother with I end up forgetting something that I regularly get. Today I went for my lunch and a snack and ended up leaving my wallet.

I realized that my wallet was still in my house when I tried to get my money out for bus fare and nearly had a heart attack. Good thing for my the bus driver - who, let's face it, is a total flirt - is all about making sure that his regulars are taken care of. He allowed me to borrow $3.00 in order to get the bus pass that I needed. Then when I sat down on the bus another passenger, who shares the stop with me, went into her wallet and pulled out $5.00 and gave it to me. She said that it was in case I wanted to get lunch or something. She had left her wallet before and knew the feeling. Who would have thought that so many strangers would care to go out of their way to make sure a panicked, scatterbrain was covered for the day? Thank the Lord! There are still good people out there.

eventually the mask has to come off

2009-01-04T17:56:00.000-08:00

So, there is this girl who decides to have a hymenoplasty , not because she wants to restore herself due to some back sliding she did in college. This really irks me. This girl is a "Western woman" of her own making. Raised under strict Muslim teachings in Birmingham, she lived her life without a backbone. Chopping up everything that she did to "all my friends were doing it...it was entirely accepted." Yeah, entirely accepted in the world of girls who have flings without thinking about the consequences. She takes birth control, becomes "sexually empowered" and sleeps with her boyfriends and some random guy from a party. All the while everytime she goes home she "plays" the devout muslim daughter for her parents. Praying five times a day, not listening to music, wearing her veil. She feels oppressed when she is in her parents presence. So, in the end she decides to agree to an arranged marrige to a Muslim in Pakistan? Why is that a good idea? She says that to do this is to be with a man who has the same beliefs as she does. No, it isn't. If she believed in the Muslim teachings so much she wouldn't be in the situation of having to recreate her hymen. She is doing this for all the wrong reasons. She has changed, not just strayed from her dad's teachings. She is a western woman. Living in the secular world and loving it. She says that she does not what to be "ostracized" from her family. She has already put a barrier there. She lied about her living situation for two years. She lived with her boyfriend, yeah boyfriend, no thoughts of marriage (which is against her strict Muslim upbringing). She stopped wearing her hijab, she was drinking, smoking, and sleeping around. All of this done with her hoping her parents don't find out. The only things that I can see for her future is her either abandoning her family to go back to her "western" ways or her killing herself to escape the oppression.

I am not knocking the Muslim world. I am not complaining about the male dominance. I am saying that she is chosing the wrong path. She needs to bone up and live her life the way she wants to. The Muslim teachings are not her beliefs. The only time that she claims them as her own is when she considers the pros of the marriage. All the other times she is "play[ing]" a role. What happens if her husband--who met her under the impression that she has not strayed from her beliefs--figures out a fraction of what she was into in college? She fears that her family could kill her if she doesn't bleed (honour killings are still justified), she could still end up dead at her husband's hand. You can't hide who you have become forever. Sooner or later every skeleton in her closet is going to be discovered.

grit my teeth and finish

2009-01-03T08:05:00.000-08:00

I hate giving up on books without finishing them. On all the dozens of books that I have read in my lifetime, I can only remember giving up on three books. I will force myself to finish...I will try. Which brings me to today's point. I have decided that I would like to read a nice collections of books because I simply miss reading. A true geek, thank you. But I was reading a book already when I composed this list. Of course my review is premature and biased as I don't care much for athletes or football. The story centers around a displaced athlete and football jargon. I will finish the book, of course. His hormones are just really getting on my nerves. Between that and talk about the great game of Football Americano, I can't figure out where the story is going. It just this useless collections of words that isn't for me. I want it to end. I have better books to read.

I'm rolling my eyes at this book and I still haven't made it half way through. *sigh* This is so aggravating.

Intellectual...maybe

2008-12-29T17:30:00.000-08:00

I have decided to follow the lead of my very best friend (who I look up to more than I will ever let him know) and contrive a reading list. I, however, am not going to read 50 books this year...not consciously. I came about my list in a very different way than my friend however. I am fairly certain that he sat down and carefully planned his. I was not so lucky. I went to Half Priced Books today with a thought to get my hands on one book: 1001 Arabian Nights. I didn't find it...not at Half Priced Books anyway...but, since I am a nerd, I cannot leave a book store empty handed. I went in for Arabian Nights and came out with others. Then promptly went to Barnes and Noble to continue my search for Arabian Nights...I found it and another. Some of the books are ones that I have read before. Others are ones that I know about from plays that I have done or movies that I have seen.
**While I was looking for books in Half Priced Books I couldn't find a few. When I was in Barnes and Noble I realized that I couldn't find that book because I was looking under the wrong author name...so I went back to Half Priced Books to find that book and ended up getting a three when I went in for one.

THE BOOK LIST

The Count of Monte Cristo (Complete and Unabridged) Alexandre Dumas
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Douglas Adams
The Arabian Nights Barnes and Noble Classics Edition
Wicked Gregory Maguire
Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister Gregory Maguire
Mansfield Park Jane Austen
Emma Jane Austen
Mirror Mirror Gregory Maguire
Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen
The Devil Wears Prada Lauren Weisberger
P.S. I Love You Cecelia Ahern
In Her Shoes Jennifer Weiner
Sense and Sensibility Jane Austen
Northanger Abbey Jane Austen
Persuasion Jane Austen
Lady Susan Jane Austen
Les Miserables Victor Hugo
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe Douglas Adams
Life, the Universe and Everything Douglas Adams
So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish Douglas Adams
Mostly Harmless Douglas Adams
Young Zaphod Plays It Safe Douglas Adams
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkahban J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince J. K. Rowling
-though not until after I see the movie
Turning Tables Heather & Rose MacDowell
Shoots to Kill Kate Collins
Sinister Sudoku Kaye Morgan
An Abundance of Katherines John Green
Dead Witch Walking Kim Harrison
Guilty Pleasures Laurell K. Hamilton

I am about to discover it what I always believed is true: The book is always better. As a lot of my books have movie adaptations.

HA! I knew it!

2008-12-18T08:36:00.000-08:00

I have been an avid radio listener for almost a decade now and just last night I solved a mystery that I have been wondering about for about have that time. Well, not solved it so much as officially discovered. I have not ever been keen on listening to radio commercials. Especially when I am keyed up and I am using the radio to wind down. For me, radio commercials only cause more agitation. So I have ten radio stations that I listen to and about five that are favorites. Then on top of all of that there are at least four of the stations that play the same genre of another one of my favorites.

So now that we have all of the background information, here's my point.

106.1 Kiss FM has always bugged the crap out of me by playing their songs just a half beat faster than they were recorded. I used to notice this and ask people if they heard it as well. The answer was usually no. I am the type of person who sings along as closely as I can get to the artist. I like to know the phrasing, breathe when they breathe, and hold the note for exactly the same amount of time with the same level of power. So, if I have "trained" myself up on a song on a different station and then I listen to the same song on Kiss FM I immediately feel the difference.

When I first started to listen to Kiss FM I was also heavily into R&B. That was when I first noticed the modified speed on all of the songs with black artist. I even went so far as to think that it was a racial issue. Well, last night I found out that I was wrong.

I am a fan of P!nk. I have been since she busted on the scene with "Get the Party Started." It appealed to my immature taste at that point of my musical fanhood. Recently I acquired her newest CD, Funhouse, and fell in love with it. Everything about it plays on my interest: the way the music paints the image of her being in a Funhouse (on that track anyway), the double meanings in her lyrics, the stories that she tells. It's a fantastic CD. P!nk just released her second single off of her Funhouse CD, one of my favorites "Sober." It came on the Kiss FM and I felt almost immediately that the timing is off. Of course, then I realize that it is the station speeding up songs again. But as usual there was no one around to listen for this flaw with me, so I decided to see for myself if I am imagining it or if this is actually happening. I went to get my iPod and found the song and listened. I was trying to see if the timing would be noticeable if it was played side by side with the original speed. I couldn't get it directly aligned, so I settled for being a little ahead of the radio. While I was still trying to discern the difference of the lengths of pauses and held notes the radio answered my question. As I was listening the radio caught up with my iPod, ran about three beats in sync, then continued on ahead.

EUREKA!!!! Now I want to get in touch with the station and know why it is that they play the songs faster. That is my next mission.

We can't all have our very own Edward Cullen.

2008-11-25T11:03:00.000-08:00

So last night I went to see Twilight...of course being me I saw it after dark and decided to walk home -alone- afterwards. The dark doesn't scare me because I believe the light is just as dangerous. Whatever. I was already wrapped up in my thoughts as I (over)analyzed the movie on my way home. I managed to get what I have never achieved before. I was seriously hit on by a woman. That is not, by any means, what bothered me about my walk home. In fact it was a self-esteem boost if anything. What has me irked to the point that I decided to discuss this in a blog is the loser that tried, persistently, to pick me up as a prostitute. It is annoying because if anything I looked like was a space cadet because I was trying to walk down the center of the road while stopping every couple of yards to stare up at the few stars that you can see in the city. I'd like to believe that the "Come Screw me" sign that seems to be in neon green over my head was left at home that night. Apparently I was wrong. Before the movie, on my wait out of Barnes and Noble I guy asked for my number. Walking home a chick tries to pick me up and I end the it all with offer to "make a little extra" extended to me.

The biggest issue that I have with this incident is that it is reocurring. This is not the first time that a person has tried to pick me up as a prostitute. Granted that the first time it happened I owned up to the fact that I placed myself in that situation by walking outside alone after 1am. Especially since I am already know my knack for attracting creeps. The ones who don't want to take me to a movie, just a hotel room. Who don't want to get to know me, just my bedroom. The whole thing gets old after a while. I no longer trust any man that tries to even half way sweet-talk me. As far as I'm concerned the ones bold enough to approach me aren't the ones that I want. This is where my own personal catch-22 comes into play.
---I can't trust the ones who approach me. I've been rejected before and therefore won't approach the ones I want.

Whatever, I'm moving on. I'm not analyzing the stupidity of y-chromosomes that choose to approach me.

I feel like the wind was knocked out of me, and I'm just a third party observer

2008-11-12T20:55:00.000-08:00

I have found one of my favorite quotes. I can't exactly say why. It is a quote that explains how a woman literally is consumed with the agony of being alone. Being alone after she thought she had found her forever. It is unequivocally depressing. I know that. That is one of the reasons why I can't get enough of it. It's not just that quote. The way that the writer, Meyer, set that up. She led the reader to it. I was like a bird following bread crumbs. The gist of it is here, keep in mind that my summary does the passage no justice at all.

--She collapses, sinnking into the waters of her pain. States that she never resurfaces. Then, by using four pages, Meyer shows the numb passing of four months and opens the next chapter with this quote:

"Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me" (Meyer 93).

Brilliant. I read that the first time and got chills. Read it the second time and even when I knew it was coming I still had to pause to reflect on it. I'm thinking about how agony in a book is just so much more potent then any movie. Sure a great actor can portray it, but that could take weeks of shooting and at least ten minutes on the screen to only grasp a percentage of it. A writer, however, can dish it up in five sentences and I love it.
It is just so raw.

How amazing, how creative! But I was just trying to get by.

2008-10-30T19:22:00.000-07:00

In the many thoughts that went through my head today (is this rocket science, I need to comb my hair, is it spiked...hahaha, dang it I need to get back to work), I found myself remembering a project that I did for my fifth grade science class. The teacher gave an assignment to take a twenty six words from the glossary, one word per letter, and illustrate or find a picture for each one. Then we were to bind it together into a book. We were allowed to make it as professional as we wanted. Take it to Kinkos or whatever, she even showed us a couple of examples. I wanted to do something along those lines, however I one of three children in a single parent household and we didn't have the extra money to throw at a book binding. At the time I didn't have a way to get picture of these things either so I had to figure a way around that also.

Upon looking around the house I found construction paper and crayons. I decided to rely on a skill that I had (though never nourished) and drew all of the images for the words that I chose. My mother, always helpful when it came to homework, decided that since we didn't have the rings to bind it we would instead use some brown shoe laces that she had. Now that I think about it, I have no idea where she got them. I can't remember a single pair of shoes that would warrant brown shoelaces, but I digress. I turned in my book along all of the professionally bound ones. I don't remember being ashamed of what I had. I do, however, remember being slightly unhappy with some of my drawings. But what was I going to do? *shrugs*

A few weeks or so later we got our graded books back. When the teacher got to me she took the time to squat down and tell me that she was extremely impressed by my creativity. She loved that I chose to draw images for all of the words and that I bound the book with shoelaces. She was actually at a lost for words to describe how she felt. I never thought that with all of the spirals that were turned in that mine would be the one that stood out in her head.

I love that my teacher saw an amazing, creative feat when all I was doing was getting by with the resources that were available to me. It's surprising what people notice sometimes.

alright, alright I admit it

2008-10-24T20:29:00.000-07:00

As a woman, the last thing that I want anyone to ask me when I am upset is, "is it that time of the month." That question is a warrant for sudden death for the asker.

It used to be anyway. Well, over the last week I have been off. I have little patience as is, but this past week everyone and everything has driven me up the wall without much provocation. My headaches were out of control (that I blamed on my caffeine withdrawal). Then there was the nausea...that was just strange, it doesn't happen often. Usually, after all is said and done I will reflect and admit that I was indeed PMSing. That, however, was never warrant for anyone to assume it just because I am able to admit it. But now I am finally allowing it. Hello, I am Mon'que and I PMS. I am now opening it up to people who know me enough to ask if I am in that time of the month. I am tired of going through it without anyone who could understand. I think that if I have someone, at least one person, to recognize what was happening it could help to ease the tension.

The only problem is that as a woman some things are just not going to make sense. Now, the thing is, that question, no matter how true it is is still a sticky subject. It has to be said the correct way to keep me from frying the person with my eyes. This is where my being a woman comes in. You see, I have no idea what the right way to ask the question is, I just know that the wrong way will not be accepted. It depends on so many things to make it happen and be alright. Things like: how much the person knows me, the tone of the question, the reason for asking...among other things. See, the woman of me.

Anywho, I have finally decided to stop hiding behind sexism and start facing the facts. When I PMS it throws me off. I need to come out and say it so that people will know and possibly back off.

don't let it consume you

2008-10-21T07:37:00.000-07:00

For the last year and a half I have been told over and over again not allow my money issues to consume me. I, however, didn't know any other way to go about it. I'm 20 years old and live in America where credit is everything. At the rate I am going I would be fortunate if someone allowed me to rent a cardboard box in the future. First I have to say exactly how everything got so screwy.

I went to school.

Funny how trying to better myself is the reason that I am screwed almost to the point of no return. I decided to continue in my education and in doing so I created a cluster fuck of debt and monetary responsibities that I cannot handle. I particularly love the way it all happened. I went to the University of Tulsa, finally ran out of money and had to look for more loans on top of the three that I already had out. I couldn't get one and was promptly kicked out of school.

It was because I had no money that I left school. I have no money. None. Of course the people have to be paid. I was home and left to my self-pity for three months before I received a threat that my balance was about to go into collections. Fantastic. Then I had all of the loan companies that had given me money to first go to school trying to get their money back. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't like I didn't see this coming. It was just really overwhelming and each time I got a letter letting me know exactly how much money I didn't have I was told to not let it get to me. At the time that didn't seem plausible. It was after all my credit on the line.

Things started to look up when, after three months of looking, I finally found a job. Then with a steady paycheck I was able to set up a payment plan with the school and give them an automatic $250 that came out of my account each month for a year. Nice right? Wrong. In all this greatness I got my own apartment and decided to pick up a few more bills. Meanwhile the loans that I left to themselves decided to at last come after me. I am about to single handedly default on three loans all at once. Then I had to think about the ending balance for the school. Yes, giving them $250 a month is fine and dandy but once the year is up they want the remainding balance in one lump sum payment. Which mean: another loan. I couldn't get a loan when I was at school with them and with recent events of both of my credit cards going into collections (both my fault, I am aware) and not being able to pay back the loans that I currently have out. I'll be fortunate if a friend loaned me a dollar cash from here on out. All of this and

I am not supposed to let it get to me? Yeah right.

To top it all off I got a letter yesterday telling my that I missed a payment for the TU. It comes out of my account automatically, how did I miss a payment? I thought the money was there. Upon checking my balance before and after the scheduled withdrawal there was a considerable amount taken out. Now, I have to call the bank. I got the letter telling me that they would try to get the amount on the 20th, yesterday, the day I got the letter. That gave me no time to prepare and I know that the money isn't in there now. Which means: a NSF charge. Fantastic. Funny though, when I read that letter it was the first time something about my money issues didn't make me almost cry. Maybe I am no longer letting it get to me. I just have to accept that my credit is screwed.

Addictive Personality

2008-10-19T22:53:00.000-07:00

I find that I have a serious issue with addictions. If it isn't to my friends or the internet then it's to people who I will possibly never get the chance to meet. I consider my addiction a response to me just being plain lonely at times. It is going to look bad, but I mean, it's not that bad. I mean I'm not stalking anyone...unless internet stalking counts. If it does, fair enough, but first you must tell me what the heck actually is internet stalking. But I digress.

I went through a phase where I was needing to be distracted by something...anything. I couldn't face my thoughts because I was dealing with the latest bout of depression. I've gone from hitting the caffeine to popping headache meds in order to get through my caffeine withdrawal.

Anywho, the first was the Jonas Brothers. I fell in love with their song "When You Look Me in the Eyes." I was hooked on them. I couldn't even find a reason. I just wanted to figure out a way to get to know them. But they didn't cause as much issue as the later obsessions. I listened to their music, bought the CDs and did a little internet looking to find some extra info about them. Only a little. I just enjoyed them. They fascinated me...and I thought Kevin was cute. Alright, alright, I gushed over them. Did what every other teenage girl did and got flutters when I thought about them.

But it passed, thank the Heavens.

While the Jonas's did cost me a little bit of my dignity because of the lack of control I felt concerning them, that addiction pales in comparison to my addiction/obsession with *sigh* the Harry Potter cast. They snuck up on me and before I knew it I was all about them. I have no idea how it happened. I remember only wanting to watch the Harry Potter movies. Then I was suddenly really fascinated in Alan Rickman's character choices. The man is amazing. (Matthew Lewis thinks so too.) Since I am a fan of ginger-heads I had a major crush in the Phelps Twins. They are amazingly beautiful men. (I do know that they are in fact not ginger-heads at all.) I found that I like them a lot better when they are natural with their brown hair. (Which is so dark brown that I thought it was dyed.) Once I started looking for interviews of theirs, I stumbled across one with the James and Oliver, Katie Leung, and Matthew Lewis (the breath-takingly gorgeous Matthew Lewis). From there everything Ping Ponged. In looking up an interview for one person I find an dual interview and from there I start looking up another person. It spiralled out of control until I finally found myself indulging in interviews with Emma Watson, Rupert Grint (an actual ginger-haired stud...you can believe I'm crushing on him hard), and Daniel Radcliffe. Naturally the supporting actors and actresses don't have as many video interviews. This thing has bit me hard. I felt like I was in love. I would go to work then suddenly find myself smiling at something said in an interview. This happened a lot. I was constantly thinking about them as if they were people that were in my face, people that I dealt with on a personal level. I looked them up on the net during my lunch. I had them on the brain at all times.

I even ended up analyzing them. I found that I can only watch interviews with Rupert Grint if they are asking him legitimate acting questions. Otherwise he averages about three "I don't knows" a question. Then the interviewers start to get snippy with him and it makes me angry. Daniel is extremely funny and very witty. I, however, am a huge fan on Matthew's wit and *gushes* I can't get enough. I enjoy the way he dodges questions that could get him in trouble if answered the wrong way. I watch some of his interviews two or three times over and still laugh just as hard. I love Emma Watson's grace in the way that she politely ignores stupid questions. I even enjoy that Oliver Phelps is soft-spoken at times. I hate how some people make them [the Phelps Twins] perform as if it is their divine right to get a private show. Being the kind men they are they just politely comply. It bugs me that they are put in that awkward situation.

But Rupert. I enjoy him. He doesn't have the answers to stupid questions automatically on tap in his mind (to questions like "if you could invent a plavor of ice cream what would it be?). I love it because at the same time he isn't going to go straight for the answer that you want to hear. How many actors are brave enough to do that? Not many, they are afraid of losing their fan base. (A genuine fear to have, I know.) He is in one of my favorite movies. Well actually he is in six (and counting) of my favorite movies, but Driving Lessons is freaking brilliant. Julie Walters and Laura Linney are amazing. I am hoping to figure out a way to see Cherry Bomb when it comes out.

I have never before followed a actor, singer, movie, or even a song this closely. I used to just stumble across it whenever I stumbled across it. Now I'm looking ahead to the when they happen. How did I get like this? One crush on two guys and now I can't get over any of them. Heck. In this long entry alone I didn't even mention the others. That ping pong bounce around them that landed me to Daniel has a lot more steps then I let on. It went something like this:

look up interviews for the Phelps twins, found interview with them, Katie Leung and Matthew Lewis, another with them and Matthew Lewis
look up interview with Matt Lewis, found one w/ her and Katie Leung
look up Katie Leung, found some interviews
look up Tom Felton, only found the interview with the Slytherins
looked more for him, found two maybe three others, got annoyed
looked up Alan Rickman, got a few interviews
looked up Imelda Staunton, didn't stay on her for long
looked up Bonnie Wright...moved on quickly (no offense)
looked up Gary Oldman, found interview with him and David Thewlis
looked up David Thewlis, found out he wrote a book
revisited some searches of Lewis, Phelps, and Felton
looked up Jason Isaacs, found a good one
looked up interviews of Emma Watson, on the Rupert Grint, and finally Daniel Radcliffe
listened to a couple Watson interviews
got annoyed with Grint interviews
got into Radcliffe interviews
looked up Radcliffe interviews about December Boys and Equus
revisited old searches of others
looked up Grint interviews about Driving Lessons
stumbled across a press conference
looked up Harry Potter press conferences
and so and so forth

I am sure that there are a few steps that I missed. This was a process that took me three weeks to go through. I lost sleep over this...a lot of sleep. I was consumed by it. It was all I wanted to do. It was the first thing that I did when I got home at night. I think I can breathe now,that the worst has passed. Of course not before I bought Driving Lessons, Ballet Shoes and December Boys. No one knows the extent of what this was to me...and they probably never will.

So that's it

2008-10-19T20:54:00.000-07:00

He loves me after five hours and refuses to let me go by the time we are done with the night. He was all for making me see how we could love each other. Right.

His faults:

he doesn't respect my "no" (if you can't stop when I ask/tell you too then I can't trust you)
he's aggressive (first day meeting, you love me? want to get married? have children? what the hell?)
he thinks that all guys who befriend females are trying to have sex with them, and if not are gay (granted this may be true for some but definitely not all. he called my best friend of ten years, who is a male, gay--major fuck up)
he thinks very highly of himself and has no problem letting me know...over and over and over again (sometime you have to be still and let your light show. translation: stop telling me how good you are and just show me. I'm not a total bitch, I want you to be confident, just not full of yourself)
even though I ask for time to get used to a possible relationship between us he still wants to force on the physical affection. basically he was trying to have sex with me (in what I think he thought was a subtle way)
he wants to have children, correction: he wants me to have his children...enough said (maybe not if you not know me. basically, I don't)

These are the reasons that I was uncomfortable with our pending relationship. And he didn't end. Kept professing his love, and his wanting me to have his children. So I decided that this wouldn't work. I decided to not wait any longer but to phone him and let him know. However, when I tried to talk to him he doesn't want to listen. Just gives up. Yeah, never gonna let me know, my ass. I knew he was full of shit.

what the hell happened to preliminaries?

2008-10-18T21:43:00.000-07:00

Since when was it alright to say your name and then immediately start kissing on a girl. I will allow my own fault to come forward with this...I didn't show how serious I was about his not touching me. But I mean really?

Do I walk around with a permenant Come Fuck Me sign?

Whatever happened to the dating scene? What the hell happened to allowing us time to get used to each other? Someone please tell me what happened to letting a girl get comfortable with you before you have your hands all over her ass?!? Why can't I find a single sane male that isn't all for jumping my bones within the first two seconds of knowing me?!?!? I FUCKING HATE THIS!!!!!

Screw it, screw it all. Apparently all it wants is to screw me. Fuck the dating scene, it doesn't want me on it anyway. Fuck these cheesy ass men who refuse to see me as more than a piece of ass. You ain't gonna get it, so you can kiss my ass!!! Make sure you bring the chapstick because I want no crusty lips on my backside.

**I never thought that of all the relationship issues that I could face, this one would be the zinger.

***My debut and I'm already turning it melo. *sigh*