you are the sun, you make me shine ♪

It's hard to admit...

but I've fallen in 'care'.

With a 21 year old, senior percussion preformance major, and soon-to-be marine.

Oddly, he's everything I never thought I wanted. He (used to) smoke, doesn't have a car, has been known to be quite the ladies man, has baggage, has a panic disorder, and a load of debt that makes me cringe. (Student debt is a b*tch)

A lot about him shouts at me to run as far as I can, but I had a certain curiousity about him that drew me to him. He seemed like the polar opposite of me. And as I began to know him, I wanted to help him. The psychologist in me wanted to help the poor little boy I saw inside of him. I had this intense urge to make him happy. So that's what I did. I became his best friend. I listened to him, and gave him my honest opinions. I started to change him little by little. But what I didn't see was that he was changing me. He changed a lot of the opinions I had about a lot of things; opened my eyes to a lot of things I didn't see.

Mostly, he changed my perception of people. I had been at a point in my life where I thought people were terrible until proven good. I had been too hurt too many times to really trust anyone. One weekend, I left for Tennessee for my cousin's wedding. On my tipsy way to grab a sweatshirt, my phone rang. After a short amount of small talk, I'm blown with:

"Amanda...how do you feel about me?"

"I...I like you. I like you a lot. I don't know what that means or what it will be, but...yeah....why?"

"I just want you to know...that I've enjoyed all the time we've spent together. I think you're a beautiful woman. And that...I've grown to care about you. A lot."

I felt my heart stop during that phone call, and any buzz I had going was gone. Those three words had -never-, not once, been spoken to me. Especially from the opposite sex. "I care about you." Note, the last time a boy told me he loved me, he "took it back". Don't ask me about it. Not bitter, but I'd like to forget it happened. I had recently learned things about him that made me question his motives to be around me. I kind of started to figure that if he wanted in my pants, he would have made that move already.

He tells me nearly daily that he cares about me. So, I know it's the god-honest truth.

We hung out as soon as I got back. Spent the night studying and goofing off. The sexual tension between us is so thick you would need a chainsaw to get through it. I teased him, because of course I thought his reactions were hilarious. Finally I decided it was time to go to bed.

"Don't I get a hug?"

"Of course, unless you're too afraid of me touching you."

Before I could note his reaction, some other part of me took over. I reached up on my tip toes, put both hands on either side of his face, and kissed him, smack dab on the lips. Felt everything in my body shiver, but I let go as soon as he started to kiss back. I smiled, said goodnight (kinda the way Princess Jasmine does) and shut my door, but slowly enough that I saw the dumbfound euphoric look on his face. It's the most priceless look of shock and awe I have ever seen.

"I think I forgot how to blink for a minute", he texted a good fifteen minutes later.

I severely regret not kissing him more.

Things got complicated after that.

He was involved in a little love triangle before me. Ex-fiancee and another girl. I would say I'm friends with both. Which makes my life extremely difficult. And, the girl, whom I love to death, started talking to him again. All was fine, until she found out how he and I felt about eachother. Lovely. And then the battle began. Her and I both pressured him to make a decision, though I was willing to be with him and she was (and still is) not.

I thought for sure he'd chose me. It was easy to me. He felt right. Our whole friendship/relationship was a game of give and take, like it should be. We think eachother are the bee's knees. We've taken care of eachother when we were sick, and held eachother when we were sad. We hadn't known eachother on this level for incredibly long, but we were incredibly close for that amount of time. I giggled at the thought of possibily being this boy's girlfriend; someone had mentally had my eye on since before I started Fall term of '08 at B-W.


He did not.

It crushed me. I don't think I've ever broken down like that in my life. It felt like the delicate string that was holding the seams of my heart together tugged and lay firmly on the ground, remnants of what was left of my heart scattered. I've never broken down like that, especially in front of someone else. I wanted to leave, I wanted to run. He wouldn't let me. But he stayed with me. It was a constant up and down. I can't stay mad at him, yet...

"I don't want to hurt you", "I've never wanted to hurt you," he says. But he did hurt me, in the worst humanly way possible. Another Halloween ruined. Halloween is my least favorite holiday, btw.

It's been on and off arguing for the past week and a half. Things will usually go really well for a few hours, or we start arguing right off the bat. The current question is whether I stay with him.

Though his choice was her, she doesn't want him. I watched him nearly cry over it, biting my tongue, wanting to tell him how stupid he was, why he couldn't just give me a chance to make him happy if he cares for me as much as I care for him.

That's what sucks so bad. The fact that he reciprocates all my feelings makes it so much worse. I would much rather he find me repulsive and not want anything to do with me. IT'd make my life easier. He wants me there. He wants me around.

("Why do you have to be so wonderful?" I've said with my eyes full of tears. "Why can't you just be an asshole?!")

I would like to say he's selfish for asking this of me. But he knows. He knows how hard it is, how I struggle daily in a battle I don't think even needs fought. I've had a panic attack I've cried so hard. (Those things are horrible. I dont suggest ever having one if you can ever help it).

We talk a lot about me taking my time to myself, not to be with him. He doesn't want that, but starts to think more and more that it's what's best for me. Truth is, not talking to him for a day doesn't feel right. It feels like something is out of place; like something is missing. I can't live with him, and I can't live without him. The thought of stopping all contact with him because I'm selfish and self-centered makes my throat knot. But sticking around makes me paranoid he's going to hate me. Because I am selfish enough to still want him. And when I want something, I make sure I get it.

Our friendship that was so easy now requires work. It requires me to shut my mouth and control my emotions, and requires him to be constantly aware of how what he is doing or saying will affect me. He's willing to put in the work. He is the first to be this willing. Usually we get in a fight about it on a bidaily basis.

Except last night.

Last night was the most wonderful night I've had with him in a while. All we did was snuggle and watch youtube videos and the 40 Year Old Virgin, but it was one of the most wonderful times I've had with him. Little was said, but it wasn't an awkward silence. Sometimes silence really is golden. We fell asleep together cuddled up in my bed. I woke up at 2:30 to realize something odd was on TV. I woke him up by moving to turn the TV off. I knew he would leave. I wanted him not to; to stay; more than anything in the world. He looked at me, ready to apologize and plead with me not to be upset.

"I don't want you to go; I would love for you to stay all night....but I understand why you can't."

He thanked me for my understanding, embraced me, and left.

My bed has never felt so large.

He means the world to me. He really cares about me. He really does. I really care about him. I started wishing again, every night, at 11:11, that we have a fighting chance.

"What if we met under different circumstances?" I asked.

"If we had met in a coffee shop..in a different time in a different place....and only you and I mattered....I'd say we'd already be together. And we'd have a serious fighting chance."

I'm waiting for the day he's able to stand in front of me, man to woman, and ask me to be his. That day, I will gladly say yes.

I am beyond fed up with life. At least at B-W.

I am highly considering once more moving back to Tennessee, and this time, making it semi- permanent.

I'm tired of being lied to. I'm tired of putting my all into everything and getting nothing back. I'm tired of loving people and getting nothing. I'm tired of putting my faith in people who don't deserve a benefit of a doubt. I'm tired of half-ass friends that only give a shit when they see some benefit for them.

Every time I see him with that girl, my stomach turns. It literally makes me sick to my stomach and want to kick something cute.

I am most certain I am much prettier than this girl. That's the only thing that calms me down. (that's saying something since I don't generally find myself attractive.)

Bethel University in McKenzie Tennessee will only cost me 10k a year without financial aid. And i have family who would bemore than willing to take me in, and I'd have a job. Yup.

It's gonna happen.

Operant Conditioning

I'm back :]
I've been a busy bee you know.

So, I think I'm going to start telling funny little anectdotes about my childhood. I think they'll be funny. :]

So, the other day, in my Abnormal Psych class, we were talking about methods of learning. One is operant conditioning, in which you learn either by reinforcment or by punishment. My professor asked me what I had learned by operant conditioning.

"Don't run with your hands in your pockets."

Seriously.

So, I was 7. I lived a block and a half from the bus stop. But for some reason, I felt that I was running late. I looked cute, with my new little bell bottoms, purple raincoat, and purple Aladdin lunch box. It was supposed to rain, so I had my umbrella too. So, I started to run my way to the middle school to catch my ride to my daily hell.

My hands were really cold. That's uncomfortable, you know. So what do I do?

Shove them in my pockets. While carrying a lunch box and an umbrella.
....and, I kept running.

I was valedictorian of my high school class you know.

I was so close. So, so, so close.

You know, when you're falling, and there's that tiny moment when time stops, and you think "Oh sh#t. I am going to fall. There is -nothing- I can do about this."? Yup. That happened. Only it was a million times worse because I couldn't catch myself with my hands.

Face? Meet pavement. I am sure you will become wonderful friends.

Now, I've been known to be kind of clumsy. So. I wasn't going to cry. I sucked it up. Sat up until my head started spinning and assesed the damage. No rip in my jeans, my lunch didn't spill anywhere. Ow.. my nose...

Yup, shouldn't have touched my nose either. I could have kept some dignity.

It was bad. I removed my hand to see that it was covered in blood. I didn't think that much blood could come from the -outside- of your nose. Oh, it can. I didn't think I could wail that loud.

You bet your @$$ I wailed.

I was promptly taken inside to the middle school nurse. All the skin on my nose, was like. Gone.

They called my mom. She....laughed. I can't lie, I probably would too.

I refused to wear a bandaid. No way I was going to look like that kind of goober. So, she let me wear the bandaid at home and not go to school. Little did I know that kids I didn't even know at the time knew about my little accident.

So yeah. Went to school the next day with the biggest scab the world had ever seen. Right in the middle of my face.

I was in love with this kid, BG, we'll call him. He was such a cute kid. I suppose you could call him my first elementary school crush. Valentine's day came around. He didn't want to be my Valentine. Because of the giant scab on my face.

The things that mortify a kid.

My dad still says, "Remember that one time you ran with your hands in your pockets?"

Yes Dad. *grumble*

My professor laughed. "I suppose that is a very good lesson learned by operant conditioning."

To this day, I don't run on the pavement.

I don't walk with my hands in my pockets either.

Operant Conditioning, ftw.

Opinion Poll.

Now, everyone has an opinion about everything. It's true. There's more opinion in the world than fact. Except for the previous sentence, which is a fact, in my own opinion. See, there ya go.

I met this lady this weekend. A real southern lady. Like, I really wouldn't be surprised if I saw her again in a Scarlett O'Hara getup. I got to talk to her a lot and really get to know her. The woman is loaded with opinions. Some I agree with (like, how women are calling themselves independent for sleeping around and such. But, we won't get on that subject.) but some I think are way far off base.

She believes everything that our government does is some kind of conspiracy.

Well, normally, I like to listen to those sorts of things. Not that I necessarily believe them; I think a lot of evidence is coincidental, and that some people in history have just been down right idiots. Like, I'm on the fence about the whole cancer cure conspiracy. I think if there was a cure, even if covered up, someone else would find it in another part of the world.

As in all cases, opinions usually have little to no validity if not backed up with the proper facts and information.

This woman got all her information from some book. Wouldn't even tell me what book.

Now, she thinks Muslims are trying to establish a new World Order by bankrupting and destroying America. And that they are going to enslave and torture women.

Yup.

Granted, each group has it's extremists, but if you read up on Islam, they're a very peaceful bunch. They dont' believe in war, and although women are supposed to be covered up like you see on TV, modern Muslim women have that choice to dress that way, and they are treated as eequals to men. In fact, if I am not mistaken, the Qu'ran says that male and female are to be treated equally. They're big on tradition, so it makes them seem less civilized. Muslims even believe in Jesus Christ. (Not as an actual savior [though he is stated to save the world in their escatalogical myth] but as the Son of God just the same). Take a religion class if you don't believe me.

Yes, Obama's middle name is Hussein, a popular Islamic name.

Is he a Muslim?
I don't care. His father is from Africa, and that's a big religion there. So, probably.


Does it freak me out that he's not all that patriotic?
Yes.

Do I think he's making some choices for the nation that I dont' think are the best?
Yes.

Do I think he's going for a coup de'tat?
No.


I try to have a least a little faith in my president. Even if I'm less than satisfied with his preformance.


Have any opinion you want. But don't let it be an ignorant opinion! Inform yourself! All the knowledge you could ever want is at your fingertips. Use it.

A Requiem for a Beast.

Woo! Got a new laptop!

So, this year, I lost all battery power in my laptop, which is old as dirt. 2002. Windows XP. You get the picture.

I've been up and down with that stupid thing. It blue screened the first week I had it at college.

Piece. Of. Sh!+.

I've gotten porn adware. Voices that say "You've Won!". Increasingly slow speeds and pop up viruses.

Too old to get new virus protection when the old expires.

Freakin connects to the internet like it's dial-up.

The thing takes a good 20 minutes to just boot up. And I can't take it anywhere because it has no battery power.

And a week ago, it started turning off on its own without warning. FML.

I will give it that from the outside, it's virtually indestructable. It has been thrown, sat on, punched, and God only knows what it went through before me (bought it used.) Yet, you'd look at it and have no idea. Steel shell I tell ya. That's why I call it the Beast. Strong and indestructible, but painstakingly slow.

I freaked out and cried when it started turning off by itself, because that meant on top of the money I needed to make for school, I needed to buy a laptop.

But, turns out, my parents are really awesome people.

They came to visit here after dropping Megan off in Illinois for Bands of America camp. As I'm working on lining up golf carts, Dad says

"I have a present for you. But you'll have to arm wrestle me for it."

My dad is 6'5'' and 275lbs. I'm not going to beat him in arm wrestling.

So after work I told him how unfair that was, and he says "Okay, okay"..and disappears.

He returns with a huge HP box.

I start jumping up and down and saying "You didn't!!! You didn't!!!"

I'm pretty sure that my parents and my aunt and uncle had the looks on their faces as if I were five years old and it was Christmas morning.

Yes, the moment was just that magical.

Three years I put up with that stupid laptop. THREE. YEARS.

And this one is God's way of telling me that this school year is gonna be looking up.

:]

I told Dad he owns my soul until this machinery dies.

They must seriously love me.

This probably means I will not have a birthday or Christmas present again this year, but I'm okay with that. This is more money I can save to go to Disney World. I'm down with it.

I kind of love my life right now. It's a pleasant feeling when everything starts looking up.

I love my parents. <3 Some days they drive me crazy, but, I'm really glad I have them.


What's going to happen to the Beast? Well,I plan on wrapping up and putting a note on it, To: Megan. Love: Your sister.
>:]

Actually, that's cruel and unusual punishment.

I told Dad he can tinker with it and do whatever he likes.


I'm just so happy, I could squeal.

*squeal*.

These Are a Few of my Favorite Things ♪

Do you like my new layout? I do. :]
The Wifey did it :]
www.wifeydesigns.blogspot.com I do believe is her url for her templates. She did this in two hours. I think it's pretty fantastic.

Um, so my favorite TV show as a kid is getting redubbed.



Yup. Apparently, since the DragonballZ reform went so well (besides that flop of a live action movie), apparently the people who own Sailor Moon have decided to rerelease it. It's been redubbed in Italian, where it's on trial, currently. If it does well, they're going to redub all the seasons, possibly including the unreleased Sailor Moon Stars.

I am pumped.

Don't judge me. Ha. I still occasionally watch Sailor Moon when I hate life. Just like Disney movies. I had all kinds of Sailor Moon paraphenalia as a kid. I had a piggy bank, all the "action" dolls, a few of the big dolls, notebooks, folders, a backpack, pencils, movies, videogames, books...I have the first 5 of the original manga. I hope those get re-released too. I will spend 10 dollars out of every pay check to buy the rest of them. Just to have them. Of course, I have the first one in mint condition. Know how much it's worth? On Amazon...$200.

Wonder if my old Pokemon gel pens are worth anything. I'm sure I have them lying around somewhere....

Oh, and apparently,there's going to be a Michael Jackson videogame. I may buy a Wii for the soul purpose of having that game. (I hear Sonic the Hedgehog 4 will be on the Wii too...so, maybe not the "soul" purpose.) It basically works like RockBand. Of course, this was just posted today. (I only know because of Facebook...okay?)

Oh, and does anyone remember SkyDancers?



My cousin and I were talking about those the other day and I couldn't remember the names of them to save my life.

Until just now.

Oh well.

Well, I'm getting up early in the morning because my aunt has surgery and my it's my uncle's birthday, so I'm gonna have the house all uber clean for them when they get home :]

Toodle pip!

Sunburns and Maggie Moo's: A Weekend Overview

Let me just say that my cousin's kid Nathan is hilarious. He is probably my favorite 5-year-old on the planet. The kid plays SNES games with me. He's ecstatic about my Aladdin game. Plays it constantly. Last week, he was playing, and he stopped for a minute. He sat on my lap and kissed me, and said "I bet I've never done that to you before." I about peed my pants with laughter, and thanked him for the kiss. He said "It's cuz I like you. You're funny like Mommy."

We play Candy Land every so often, which is his favorite game. He really likes to watch me play Zelda on the Wii though. He asks tons of questions, and tells me what he wants me to do.

Yesterday, I was sitting on the couch watching Spongebob and he curled up right next to me. He laid his head on my chest and hugged me and watched a whole episode like that.

Krissy affectionately calls him her "snugglebug."

I think we should teach little boys to be a little more affectionate. It doesn't make him a pansy. He likes boy things and plays with boy toys. But I think he's going to grow up to really know how to treat a girl right. And he's pretty honest about his feelings, which, for a boy is pretty cool, I must admit. He's the kind of kid that makes me want to have kids.

Kylie is Nathan's age. And the complete opposite. This is the girliest girl I know. she constantly has on a leotard and a tutu. One of the first things I saw her do was flip her hair and giggle. She had on sticker nails this week and was totally enthralled. Yesterday, she sat next to Nathan and said, "Nathan, do you love me? Do you think I'm beauuutiful?"

Needless to say, Nathan ignored her.

The girl is adorable (she has the most gorgeous hair I have ever seen on a kid), but she really knows how to get under your skin. She has an obsession with my jewlery and sits on my lap every single day to examine what I have on, even if I wore the same thing yesterday. She will ask the same question 50 times, and will always ask for ice cream when her parents just told her no. She is going to be a handful as a teenager, I know that already.

Landon is 2. He is like a monkey-man. He has feet that he is still too large for, and trips over regularly. He confidently says my name is "Pia", and gives me a kiss every night before bed. He loves hummus, and to play a Hi-five game I know. When he wants to play, he climbs up on my lap, smiles, and says "Up high, down low?", which sounds more like "Pie dawn woe?" I barely understand a word he says, (besides Pia!) but, somehow I usually understand what he wants.

We played Mario Kart this weekend on the Wii. You will never find someone who is worse than I am. Seriously. I'm an awesome driver. But I try to drive a Mario Kart like a car...doesn't go too well. My uncle kicked my @$$.

I'm also becoming one of those History Channel/ Discovery Channel/ National Geographic Channel dorks. I like Deadliest Catch, and I looove to watch Pawn Stars. American Pickers is decent too. My aunt has warned me about Uncle Jerry's terrible TV shows, but most aren't too bad. Though I have gotten stuck watching several hours of Nick Jr., and I'd rather have diarrhea than watch the acid trip that is Yo Gabba Gabba again. I will probably be psychoanalyzing those children that watch that show in 20 years. But seriously. I love me some Pawn Stars. My new roommate (whoever they might be) may hate me.I know I hated watching Ghost Whisperer and TCM all the time. Or those real housewives things. If you like it, good for you. But I think it's crappy TV. Just my opinion.

Krissy and I sat out at the pool on Saturday. The Tennessee sunn is nothing like the Ohio sun. In the summers, I usually sit out all day long before I'm toasty. In 2 hours, I got the burn of my life, despite the SPF 50.

Now, you ask, why didn't I get out of the sun? Well, that's because I wasn't burned then. About four hours and some Chinese food later, we were shopping when I realized my stomach itched. I knew that I was probably developing a burn, but didn't check it for another hour until I was trying on clothes at "Gap's retarded cousin" (Old Navy).

Let's just say that it was a good thing I have Sundays off, because I couldn't move.

I'm pleasantly tan now, but my skin is still kind of painful and crunchy.

We then went to Maggie Moo's for some ice cream, and I'm fairly certain that it was the best I had ever tasted. Red velvet? Blueberry muffin? You bet. I sampled probably five flavors. I went with some dark chocolate with fudge brownies. It was fantastic. Got it on my white shorts (never fails...) but it was totally worth it. They have ice cream cupcakes. That is my next goal next time I'm in Jackson. (Besides the Victoria's Secret Semi-Annual sale of course!)

Tomorrow is housework day! Going to do a bazillion loads of laundry (by that, I probably mean three. Lights. Darks. Towels. Sha'zam.) Clean my room, my bathroom, and try to at least get the kitchen clean for my aunt.

Ahh, it felt good to blog about good things :]

Empowered, A Tribute

So, after seven long, grueling, tedious, tear filled months....

...*drumroll*

It's over.

I am over it.

I am over HIM.

I am over the drama, the cheating, and the lies.

Because I am better than that.

I made up with an old friend. I wouldn't say we're friends again, but we are once more on good terms. We've been buddies since the 3rd grade. We went to D.C. together, and BOA. (Bands of America, do not judge me). We've been with eachother through thick and thin. Through complete annoyance, bratty guard girls, dating eachother's crushes, and idiots who like to spread rumors. After a long, tedious guard season, we had our fights, and we had our wonderful moments.




"I wouldn't want to go through any of this bullcrap with anyone but you."

That's one of my favorite pictures in the world, by the way.

I was a tad bit ridiculous and overreacted about something she had said to me, and just stopped talking to her. It wasn't an uncommon reaction at that time in my life.

I opened up to her about what my life had been like for the past several months. and she sent me a quote:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
- Jeremiah 29:11

Not one for many Bible verses, but this one, spoke volumes to me. That small section meant worlds to me. And the fact that she knew exactly what to tell me blows me away. I hope that we become close again. She's fun, and a great person to have around. We are ridiculous and goofy together. For instance, there are very few pictures of us with a straight face.


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

Next, my cousin Holly. I went back and read something she sent to me last September, that actually made me cry.

She told me how much she loved me. And how, she hopes, that one day, her three little girls would grow up to be just like me. She told me that any guy that had my heart was the luckiest man in the world.

Never has a simple little message meant so much to me. Going back and reading it, makes me realize that I am worth something. That those little cousins of mine look up to me, and I can't spend my time moping about. I need to show them that I'm strong, and can overcome anything. Because that's the kind of women I want them to grow up to be, because I love them.

----------

Oh Brie, what can I say about her?

Well, she has a habit of driving me -crazy-, as I'm sure she can tell you. I'm sure I drive her nuts too. Occassionally, we find eachother's problems trivial, and really don't care to give advise on the subject matter anymore. But we're honest about that.

"You're being a little ridiculous about this, don't you think? Is it really that big of a deal?"

Which, at the end of the day, is like a wake up call.

But we're honest about our advise too.

Brie would never tell me that everything is going to be okay if it's not. She knows I don't want to hear a lie. She'll tell me if she thinks I'm dating a dirt bag or a friend is treating me like old defecation. I do the same for her. We are not optimistic, nor pessimistic. We are real with eachother. And that's what she's been throughout this ordeal. We have our problems. We fight. Usually twice a year, once in the fall, and once in the spring without fail. I kid you not. It happens every single year. In fact, I get nervous when it hasn't happened yet. And even if we say "I'm never talking to that crazy bitch again," in a week, someone will call and said fight will be over. No apologies are usually thrown out. It's more like, "You're a bitch. But, I wouldn't have you any other way. How's life?"




Before college, marriage, and babies, we were just a couple goons graduating from high school with some tall dreams, but never wanting the present to end.


We've endured a lot through our friendship, and I'm glad to know that despite the 6,000 miles, she's still only a phone call away.
----------

So, what would my life be like without Katie and Julie?

Not too funny.

I had never laughed so much in my life as I did my freshman year of college.

Those two girls had done some of the nicest things for me that anyone has ever done, starting with the German Carnival that flooded my room for my 18th birthday. They've always stood up for me and been by my side. Though we haven't been as close lately, I guess that's my fault. They are truly two awesome, caring girls. I wouldn't have spent my days and my dinners with anyone else.

Oh, and someone is always laughing:



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

And last, but not least, is Miss Amanda Sha-Ray Bannister.


This girl is my rock. It's hard for me to find words to express all this. And I can feel the tears flowing as I try to find the right words.

I feel like I've been a lousy best friend.

She's been there for me and done more for me than any other single person on this planet. (Besides my parental units of course. I'm pretty sure she didn't give birth to me or feed/clothe/love me for the 18 years in which I didn't know her.)

The way she has turned out is a miracle. She is the most caring, loving, and nuturing person I know. And she didn't have that kind of childhood.

She makes me realize how much I take for granted.

Yet, this year, I haven't done too much for her.

I would say that it'd be because I wasn't able to do anything for myself, and as true as that is, it doesn't matter.

But, she has stuck by me.

She has stuck by me through all my good and bad decisions, never once saying "I told you so." She hugged me when I cried, and always knew what to say or do to make me feel better.

I'm sorry that I had to put her through watching me be miserable day after day. Because if she were that way, I wouldn't be able to take it.

She was realistic. She knew she couldn't make me better, but dammit, she did everything she could.

And for that, I am forever thankful.

I have never had a best -best- friend. All of my friends had at least one more friend, male or female, who was just a little closer. It always upset me that I hadn't found anyone like that.

But...just as that Bible verse said, God had plans.

True, He made me wait for 18 years to find that friend...

But He gave me the best one anyone could ever ask for.







These are people who empower me. They do not put me down or try to belittle me, or cover my voice. They are people that are worth having in my life. I am so blessed to have met these wonderful people, and though I've had misfortunes, God has given me the most wonderful friends anyone could ever ask for.

The Price of Beauty

So, at the beginning of this month, Sassysharay and I were at Crocker Park in Westlake.

Crap went down, and I fought with someone I really cared about. And talked to him for the last time.

Was kinda torn up about it. No lies.

So, she suggested we go get our nails done. I said sure; I had never gotten my nails done before, and I figured that it would soothe me a little.

I'm never getting fake nails again.

First of all, the lady who did my nails (Although she did a -fantastic- job) was not a very nice lady. She made no pleasant conversation with me, and all she really did was complain about how skinny my nail beds are. First of all, I'm paying you $35 for this; you could at least be pleasant with me. Secondly, if you don't like my nail beds, don't do my nails.

She busted three of my cuticles. Three. They bled, and it hurt like hell. Did I get an apology? Nope.

I will say that my nails lasted almost a full month.

I tried to take them off today.

I got my thumb nail and half my pointer finger. When my thumbnail came off, a slew of cursewords were released from my mouth that no respectable person would say in front of their mother. I'd have rather vomited or sliced my hand open. It hurt -that- bad.

Needless to say, I'm not touching them again until I get my hands on some pure acetone. Nail polish remover with acetone does not cut it. As soon as it dries, your nails are back to what they were before. So no matter how long you soak them, it just makes it easier for you to lift it up. Which of course, damages your nails even more than they are already.

So, when my anger subsided, I thought about how much pain women go through to look good.

I don't do much, but I never have been one to care too much. But seriously. Ever get your eyebrows waxed? That hurts like no other until you get used to it. Even after, you still kinda squeel. Nair? i tried that once and it burned. I had chemical burns on my skin. Couldn't wear pants. Remember prom updos? Once I pulled 203 bobby pins out of my hair. Just to name a few things.

We women should really get more credit for what we go through to look nice for our men. The least they could do is put on a button up shirt, eh?

Music Monday! Beatles vs. Beach Boys

So, I thought that I'd start off Music Mondays with the most epic of epic music battles.

Who is better: Beatles? or the Beach Boys?

I remember this being the biggest battle ever in elementary school, and even middle school.

The class stood divided. Most girls always chose the Beach Boys simply because one of the most popular boys in school (who was gorgeous of course) always sided with them.

I firmly held my ground that the Beatles are the shizzz.

And, because I am lazy, I am going to support this via Wikipedia.

Here's a list of awards the Beatles have received:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_awards_and_nominations_received_by_The_Beatles

Wikipedia doesn't have a list for the Beach Boys.

Beatles:
"In 1965, Queen Elizabeth II appointed the four Beatles Members of the Order of the British Empire (MBE).[95] The Beatles film Let It Be (1970) won the 1971 Academy Award for Best Original Song Score.[188] The Beatles have received 7 Grammy Awards[5] and 15 Ivor Novello Awards.[6] They have been awarded 6 Diamond albums, as well as 24 Multi-Platinum albums, 39 Platinum albums and 45 Gold albums in the United States,[196][268] while in the UK they have 4 Multi-Platinum albums, 4 Platinum albums, 8 Gold albums and 1 Silver album.[197] The group were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1988. In 2008, Billboard magazine released a list of the all-time top-selling Hot 100 artists to celebrate the US singles chart's fiftieth anniversary—The Beatles ranked number one.[4] In 2009, the Recording Industry Association of America certified that The Beatles have sold more albums in the US than any other artist.[3] The Beatles have had more number one albums, 15, on the UK charts and held down the top spot longer, 174 weeks, than any other musical act.[2] The Beatles were collectively included in Time magazine's compilation of the 20th century's 100 most influential people.[7]"


Beach Boys:
"The group was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1988,[50] with Mike Love delivering a speech that assailed Mick Jagger, Paul McCartney and the Beatles, Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel and Diana Ross.[51] The band was chosen for the Vocal Group Hall of Fame in 1998.[52] In 2001, the group received the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award. Brian Wilson was inducted into the UK Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in November 2006.[53] In 2004, Rolling Stone Magazine ranked the Beach Boys #12 on their list of the 100 Greatest Artists of All Time, .[54]

In 2007, the Beach Boys were inducted into the Hit Parade Hall of Fame.[52]

The group is frequently referred to when the topic of summertime songs comes up. About.com listed Sounds of Summer: The Very Best of The Beach Boys, a 2003 compilation CD, as the greatest summertime hits CD.[55]

Richard Daniel Roman's Latin pop summer classic "Vive El Verano" is dedicated to the Beach Boys.



The Wilsons' Hawthorne, California house, where the Wilson brothers grew up and the group began, was demolished in 1986 to make way for Interstate 105, the Century Freeway. A Beach Boys Historic Landmark (California Landmark #1041 at 3701 West 119th Street), dedicated on May 20, 2005, marks the location. The Beach Boys continue to tour, with a backing band accompanying original members Mike Love and Bruce Johnston. Other "honorary Beach Boys", such as John Stamos and former member David Marks also make guest appearances on their tours.[56]

As of 2010[update], the remaining Beach Boys (Love and Johnston, minus Brian and Jardine) continue to tour.[57]

The Beach Boys logo was created by artist Jim Evans, and was originally used on the "15 Big Ones" record sleeve."



Mmmmmhmm.


The Beatles are so good that the King of Pop himself bought their catalouge in 1985 for $47 million. (That goes to show how much money Thriller made...woot. Don't worry, I'll be doing a special one of these for my favorite MJ. Don't hate.)

Not to mention, just think about it. How many Beatles songs are still popular today? A lot. How many Beach Boys? To be honest, I know Surfin in the USA. Good song. And I'm not dissing on the Beach Boys; they are obviously accomplished.

I'm just saying that I think the Beatles are better :]




What do you think?

L.O.V.E.?

First of all, I am sorry that I haven't updated. It's been a very hectic week getting settled into my temporary home.

Let me say that I love this place. There is nothing here; granted, but it's exactly what I've needed. Time away is the best way to heal a broken heart, I suppose. I'm at a point where my heart doesn't belong to anyone else, but it doesn't quite belong to myself either.

Hey, it's better than I had been.

And yes, I'm aware that I am still, unfortunately, damaged goods.

I have not had the best of luck with the 'l' word. I am too trusting, too forgiving, and far too honest with my emotions when it comes to my relationships. It's important to be all of these things, but, in overdoses, it can make one vunerable, and therefore, an easy target.

Paint a bullseye on my head, thank you.

So, I usually end up falling head over heels, which results in one majorly broken heart.

I've always been romanticizing, thinking that my Prince Charming will come sweep me off my feet. I watched the Little Mermaid and Aladdin everday. What did you expect from me? Disney gives you unrealistic expectations about love and hair, I can tell you that.

But now, I have this invisible, indestructable 7ft tall retaining wall around me that's not coming down for -anyone-. I now trust most guys as far as I can throw them, which, is not very far.

I'm starting to loosen up though...but not by my own experiences. I'm letting down my guard watching the people I love.

-My best friend has an incredible relationship with her boyfriend. They are two people I never would have stuck together if I had known them separately. But they work together. They would do anything for eachother, as was proved this month. They fight over some ridiculous things, but they always look at eachother with those goo goo eyes. She'll blush when she reads this, but I have no doubt that those two will last forever. They've already been through so much thick and thin.

-My cousin met her husband online. And not even through a dating service. She was on AIM and looked up people with the common interest 'rock music.' She picked one at random. It was only meant to be a one time conversation, but she ended up marrying him. And dig this, he's 12 years older than her. Hearing it, you'd think they'd be doomed, right? Wrong. I have never seen two people more meant for eachother in my life. I think God made them specifically for eachother. Sure, their marriage probably isn't without it's conflicts, who's is? But I look at them and see two people who are madly in love with eachother.

And lastly, my parental units. You know, they actually had no interest in eachother to begin with. In fact, my father never failed to annoy my mother. But, they've been married almost 25 years, and they're still going strong. I've seen them go through the thick and thin, and they always come out stronger. And I still catch them giving eachother goo-goo eyes, and not at special occasions. No, I see them look at eachother like that simply at the dinner table, or watching television in the evening. It's the best. And I only hope I can find half the love that they have for eachother.

My retaining wall? Down to about 6.5'.

Do you have any inspiring love stories to share?

When you get some feedback...♪

Hey everyone! I finally got a break so I'm gonna do a little blogging.

Tennessee is awesome. I will admit, I'm living in the middle of nowhere. But, I've got my family, and that's great. I worked awhile at the course today, and I think I'm going to just fine. It is going to be an amazing summer.

So, I'm starting this new thing on Mondays...Music Mondays. (Calling it that because I'm not too terribly creative with names.) So, basically, I'm going to pick a genre, artist, or even a specific song each Monday and blog about it. And The Wifey made me a spiffy little button for it, if you guys would care to participate. (She's my irl bff, you know.) It's on the right hand side of this site.

Also, if you'd like to follow me on twitter --> http://twitter.com/stanleycakes

I don't know what direction I would like to take with this blog. I think memes are really awesome, but it's not really -my- blog if I'm constantly doing other people's memes, right? So, dear followers, I would like to know the kind of stuff you'd like to hear from me. You guys are quite awesome, I won't lie. And I'd like to get a big following going, so some feedback would totally be appreciated.

If you're an art junkie, feel free also to check out my deviantart website. http://mandypants90.deviantart.com

Well, that's really all the time I have for right now. I'll have to come up with something for the Weekend Irk. Even though I'm in far too good of a mood to be irritated :]

WOO!

I have 12 followers now. I'm actually pretty pumped. Baha.

Sorry for the lack of bloggage, but I'm gonna be leaving for Tennessee in the morning, and once I'm there, I'll have lots of free time, so expect me to get way into it. :]

Love you all!

The Weekend Irk: Arethra!

So, I had prof my freshman year, who, instead of yelling at someone for not paying attention or talking over her in class just would shout "Arethra!"

You know, like R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

Little things bother me, I won't lie about that.

So last week, I went to go brush my teeth. My friend Sha-Ray was brushing hers as well. We were just goofin off when she goes to grab her mouth wash. She just stares at it for a minute, then lets out a "WTF?!". Her mouth wash is purple. There was blue mouthwash in the bottle. Gross.

So, then, a day or two later, I go to get a shower, and I notice that I can't find my facewash. So, I turn off the shower and look around. My facewash, along with Sha-Ray's shampoo and conditioner (for blonde hair) and someone else's body wash was in one of the shower caddys. Needless to say, we both threw a fit at our RA and kept our shower stuff in our own rooms for the rest of the semester.

I know that occassionally you run out of stuff in college. If someone wanted to use my face wash, all they had to do was knock on my door and ask. I would say "Sure, just make sure you put it back when you're done." Simple, right? I'm not a hog, I will share nearly anything, but you can't just take it and figure I'll be okay with it. Not cool.

Sunday morning, I woke up around 5am because I had to pee like a banshee. I walk back to my room to see "WHORE!" written in big pink letters on my marker board. I may have cried about it. That's a hurtful word, and it shouldn't be thrown around like that, even if it's true. Now, do I believe I'm the dirty W? No. I don't. (I think I'm a nice lady. Bahaa. Hangover joke.) And no one that matters to me thinks I'm that, so in the end, I'm able to not let myself be beat up about it. But, still, that's a nasty thing to do, joke or not. Not to mention, it's very...high school *shudders*.

Also last week, someone told me to "go die." Now, really? Instead of talking out the problem, and maybe realizing you were misinterpretting the whole situation, you're going to tell me to go die? Niiiice. I did cry about that one, I won't lie. It hurts to think that someone wants you -dead-. In hindsight, if i were a bitch, I would have saved the message on my phone and gotten this person in some serious doo doo. I've been pretty angry at points in my life, and the worst thing I've ever said is "I hope you have to spend your life playing the drumset in Cats the musical!" I don't understand why people have to be so...mean! Not only is telling someone to "go die" completely and totally disrespectful, it's just downright mean and nasty. How would you feel after that if something happened to that person? Not too good I bet. Now, I will point out that the situation this person is in, she has a warrant to hate me, but only because she doesn't know the truth of the situation she's in. Truth be told, I have nothing to do with the situation anymore. It does not involve me. So, I appreciate being left out of it. K thanks.

Now, I am going to continue to unpack.

Have a nice day!

sophomore slump? or comeback of the year?

So my sophomore year is -over-. I am simply waiting for my dad to come get me and take me home.

I look around this room, and i see how many memories I have in here. I've lived in this room for two whole years. So much has happened in here. The memories that make me laugh, make me cry, and sometimes even make me blush. Some of my most precious memories are in this room. But I'm ready to leave it behind.

I've learned a lot this year. Despite the pain it's brought me, I've learned from it.

I've learned that people are not perfect, myself included. And I need to be okay with that. Despite the fact that I always try to do what's right, that's not always what happens. I have to accept that I do on ocassion make the wrong decision. But, that doesn't make me a bad person. I just have to step back and say "Okay. What can I learn from this mistake? How can I make myself a better person from this?". Other people make mistakes too. Not everyone can explain why they do certain things or act a certain way. Some things are done on impulse without thinking once of the consequences. When someone hurts you, you of course want to know why. The problem is that there may not be a real reason. Perhaps your perpetrators had no intention of hurting you, though they did. And they can't retrace the steps that got to that point.

People in a situation will lie to save their butts. I am a terrible liar. I haven't been able to lie since I've been a kid. The one thing you can depend on is for me to be honest. I didn't say I wasn't two-faced, because I can be at times; we all can. But, if confronted, you bet I'll be honest. I can't lie because I always feel so guilty that I end up telling the truth. It's much easier to throw the truth out there right off the bat. But we all lie to save ourselves at one point or another. Some of these lies are small, like "I overslept" turns into "There was a huge traffic jam." or they're huge like, "I've been cheating on you with her for the past six months" becomes "I love you dear; I don't even know her." or "She came onto me."

People will also lie to get what they want. I do believe that there are some good souls out ther ewho are 100% honest about their wants. But there are people who are driven (not a bad thing) who will do anything to get their heart's desire. These can be big or small as well. "I did my homework, Mom," or "I'm not seeing anyone right now. I just want you." It happens, and there's not one thing you can do about it.

We act off of our own insecurities. It may appear that someone is being hateful or mean towards you, when really, it is their own insecurities that they are having a problem dealing with.

Forgiveness doesn't equate into having to fix the relationship in question. If someone has wronged you, or you have wronged them, forgive yourself and forgive them. If you don't, you'll go crazy because you'll never let go of the situation. But, I've learned that doesn't mean that you need to ressurect your relationship with that person. Because that may lead you to go crazy too.

And the most important:

Sometimes, it's okay to give up. Especially if it's what's best for you physically, mentally, and emotionally. I am not a person who likes to give up. I am aware that I am quite persistant, and although this is a good quality in some ways, it can be annoying, and dangerous too. Not only do I strive for perfection in myself, but I strive for it in my relationships. I can't stand anyone being mad at me, and being estranged from someone gives me enough stress to probably land me in the hospital. When someone hurts me, I want to know why. I'm at a constant need to understand people and their motives (psychology). I am also a ridiculously clingy human being. I don't connect with many people, so I am attached to those I do. And I love my friends with all my heart, and I would literally do anything for them. I'm not the one who decides what makes a person good or bad, I leave that up to God, but some people just aren't good for you. Some people can bring out the bad in you, or simply make you miserable. These people aren't needed in your life, no matter how much you love them. Sometimes love from afar is the greatest kind of love you can give.

presentations, practicals, and finals; oh my!

I'm aware that if I blogged more and adventured more on here, I'd probably get some more followers.

Oh, well, I'm a busy bee lately. Finals week is next week.

The month of April is hell in a handbasket for a college student. Presentations, practicals, and finals, oh my!

I kind of have no idea what to write about. I just know I want to write.

I've been kind of on the miserable side lately. I seem to be that way often.

That's not really who I am. At least, for a good three year chunk of my life, I was, for the first time, perfectly content.

My senior year of high school was the -best- year of my life, in so many aspects. I was 17, the perfect age. Old enough to complain that you were an adult and could do whatever, and young enough that when things go wrong, you can say you were still a kid. I was pretty, and I knew it. I had a certain confidence about me that I had never before had in my life, and it showed. I was valedictorian, captain of the colorguard, section leaders in both band and choir, co-director of the musical, scholar challenge team b captain...I had so much going for me. I had the best friends in the world, and I finally erupted into that social butterfly that had taken so long to come out. I was FUN.

Now, mind you, I had the right kind of fun. It wasn't like I was a deliquent getting drunk every Saturday night. But rarely did I spend a weekend at home. I was always going bowling, or to the mall, or to the movies with my constant on-again-off-again. I knew how to make everyone laugh. I was the best friend that I could possibly be. And in return, I felt the love comin in from every direction.

And now? I am still on speaking terms with -two- of those friends. And in the 2 years I have graduated, I have accomplished -nothing.- I have a 3.3 GPA. Good, but mediocre in my standards. I spend my time chasing after guys who are terrible for me, and crying when it doesn't go well. I can count my friends on one hand (They are worthwhile friends though :]). I rarely put on makeup (or wear jeans for that matter), and to see me smile, and I mean really smile...is a rareity.

I get random bouts of euphoria, sure. And for a moment, I feel like I'm me again. I feel like I just might be that Stanley Steemer or Joyce that everyone knew and loved. But then I come crashing back down, and I am simply Amanda again. Not that Amanda isn't who I am, but the name is symbolic to me. It's one of the (if not the) most popular names of the 90's. So it's unoriginal. Unspecial. Generic. (No offense to my parents.) And that's how I feel. No one special. I'm terrified of walking through my life alone. I used to relish my time alone.

Now I can't stand it.

I've spent a good 75% of my year sleeping or crying.

I don't even know what happened to me. I'm lonely. Even though there are people all around me on a daily basis, I'm lonely. Like there's a big gaping hole in my heart that I can't fill on my own.

If you look Amanda up in a name dictionary, it means "worth of love". I'm a little skeptical in my case. I feel like a totally worthless human being for a good percent of my existance. This not only affects me in relationships, but, often I wonder what my purpose even is. I don't think life is all suffering as the Buddhists say. But, it does seem to be all I do. I'd like to find someone I can share things with. Someone that fills that void. Someone who won't lie to me or hurt me. Someone who cares about everything I say or do. I want to mean something to somebody.

A friend once told me that I should see someone. You know, like a counselor. I don't like the idea. Everytime I look at the health center and contemplate it, a bubble pops in my head with my mother's voice booming out. "You want to be a psychologist?! How can you deal with other people's problems when you can't deal with your own?!"

I'm moving to Tennessee in 14 short days. I'll be there the entire summer. I have my fingers crossed that this will be good for me. That maybe, even though I'm lonely,the best thing could be for me to get away. I'm not running away from my problems, but rather, I'm trying to alieve them. That maybe time away will let me heal from whatever put me down. Get over things, and be able to forgive myself and others. Not to mention, Ohio is just depressing on its own.

I make a wish every night before I go to sleep. I used to wish for something specific. And it would never come true. But still I wish. Only my wish is much more general.

I just want to be happy.

Do these pants make me look fat?

So, our school newspaper wrote an interesting article on leggings. I'm about to go on my own little fashion rant. *clears throat*.


Rule #1:
LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS.

Leggings are leggings; they are not pants. If they were, they'd be called pants. I don't know who decided sausage-linked-camel-toe was attractive, but they were obviously moronic or under the influence of some illegal drug. I've seen some frightening attempts at leggings. I've seen feet that are losing blood because their leggings are so tight that they have no circulation through the rest of their legs whatsoever. I have seen girls who, again, are trying to fit into a pair of leggings that are far too small for them, and the butt seam looks like it's about to burst, and I'm frankly frightened for them.

Yes, leggings done properly under a dress or skirt can be cute. But, please, make sure your butt and your whoo-haa are covered. Camel toe and saggy crotch are common occurance with leggings, and it's not attractive.

Also, you make think they're sliming and hold all your fat together. This is only true for the thick, yoga-pant-y, black leggings (sometimes). Not for skin tight, translucent, patterned ones. You just look like you probably came from the corner, and I can see every little bit of your cellulite, thank you. Your legs can easily look like sausage stuffed into too-tight casing. Sausage is yummy and all, but I'm pretty sure men aren't going to fawn over you if your legs look too much like them. Sorry.

If you're going to go for leggings (which I'm going to do tomorrow!), pick a nice neutral color, such as: black, gray, brown, or navy. Pair them with a dress or skirt; anything that covers your nether regions well, and voila! Instant cute.

BUT THEY ARE NOT PANTS.

2. IF YOU ARE A SIZE 10, DO NOT TRY TO FIT INTO SIZE 4 CLOTHING.

I realize I used to have this specific problem. Yes, I know. In the past two years, I've gone from a 6 to a 12, back to an 8 or 10. Not my fault. Butttt, I've learned to dress properly.

Walking around campus, I see a lot of girls with love handles and food babies just kinda hanging out. Ew. Gross. All for the sake of their size 4 Express jeans. First of all, there is no reason to spend $80 on jeans. Granted, I do have a pair of Express jeans. I paid $30. Savvy. But, buy jeans that fit!!! They should be big enough that you don't need to rub Vasoline on your thighs to get them on. They should also be small enough that your buttcrack isn't hanging out. And ladies, buttcrack is NEVER attractive. It makes me think of the stereotypical plummer. Eew. Gross. Thank you.

Moral? If you wear clothes that -fit-, your friends won't be asking you the last time you had your period and when you're due. None of our bodies are perfect, and we should embrace that, but appearance is important people!

3. HAVING YOUR BOOBS AND YOUR BUTT HANGING OUT; NOT COOL.

So, a lot of girls complain that guy's want them for merely one thing: sex. Well, evaluate yourself;

Do you -look- like that's all you want?

Yeah. Doesn't surprise me.

Sure, there's that saying, if you've got it, flaunt it. But tastefully, please! Even guys don't want to really worry all the time if your boob is going to fall out of your bra that is showing because your top is so low, or if your pants are going to rip if you bend over.

I'm sure to men, it's attractive in a way. But to most of them, at least most that I know, they think it's trashy, and that you're out for sex and nothing more.

I'm not saying to dress like your grandmother. I'm saying not to look like a Playboy bunny, unless that is your ambition.


4. SHUTTERSHADES.

Or whatever they're called.

THEY'RE UGLY.

And, not to mention, they serve no purpose!!!

They do not block out the sun, and it's not like you can even see out of them.

I'm sure someone finds them cool.

But I'm sure there are people out there who think you look like a moron with them on too. :]




Please. Think about what you wear.

Kthnks.

Turning Over a New Leaf.

Happy Thursday. It's sunny and 80 degrees here in Ohio today. But, I'm taking a little while's break to get some stuff done.

(And I'm obviously failing).

But, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about my life. And the kind of person I want to be.


I'll face it.

I did some bad things this year.

Sure, I have wonderful friends who hug me and say that I was just following my heart. But what I did still wasn't right. What's the point of getting what you want if you have to lie and cheat to get it?

"If you want it, you've already got it" ♪ , So says Madonna. And I think she's right.

If I love someone and I want their love in return, that's all fine and dandy. But, if I need to work for that person's love, it isn't quite worth it. Love should be natural, and perhaps it was between us. But, I shouldn't have had to do those things to keep him with me.

Chances are, if someone is willing to lie and cheat on one person, they're willing to do it to you too.

I'm finding that out the hard way.

A dear friend told me once that I was too kind, forgiving, and trusting. That these were good qualities in a person, but too much of them can make a person nieve and open to a world of pain.

He was right.

Time after time again, I'd forgive him. I'd forgive him when he lied to me and when he hurt me. I'd take one look into his eyes that are the exact shade of brown mine are, and I'd forgive him. I'd melt at his smile instead of standing strong.

I hurt one of my best friends in the world for him.

We haven't been friends this year. But that doesn't mean I care about her any less. But I still hurt her, whether she knows it or not. And I will never be able to let myself be friends with her again because I feel so guilty.

I spent time with a guy I had liked for a good amount of time. He's a year older than me, and has a heart of gold. He's not perfect, by any means, but...I never fail to feel good when I'm with him. He makes me smile, even if he's making me angry. Although we hadn't talked in a long time, he could tell there was something that was just itching at me to get out. He told me I could tell him anything.

I told him the truth. Every little one of the lies I had told, to cover my ex-lover's butt. I was never really concerned for my own. I just wanted to protect -him-. So, I had myself convinced that it wasn't my secret to tell, when really, I had every right to tell the world.

He held my hand while I cried and told him every little detail of my year. He hugged me close when I asked if I was a bad person, and told me that I was not. That I just followed my heart. I just went about it the completely wrong way. And that he couldn't understand why I'd do so much for a guy who wasn't up to my worth. He told me I was better than that, and that I deserved more. That's the first time a guy has told me I deserved more; that I wasn't something worthless.

We've barely talked since.

Though, I think that maybe he still cares, he's lost a lot of respect for me. I don't blame him. I wanted to have a chance with him, but I single handedly ruined it. I know I did the right thing by telling him the truth. And now I'm dealing with the consquences. If I did have a chance with him, he probably thinks that I'm capable of hurting him the exact same way I was hurt. And it's true, I am capable. We are -all- capable of that. It doesn't mean I would though. I care about this guy more than I'd ever admit to him, and I'd never do anything to hurt him.

But, he doesn't know that. So, I don't blame him.

Morrie Schwartz (You know, Tuesdays with Morrie?) said that forgiveness is important. In order for anyone to forgive you, you have to forgive yourself first. This is a hard thing to do, I'm sure. But I'm going to try. I'm going to separate myself from that situation and put it in my past, which is where it belonged in the first place. I'll remember the good times, but shut out the bad. I won't try to correct things, because the situation is beyond repair. But I am going to separate myself from everything and hope God hands out his just desserts.

"Memories are nice, but that's all they are." -Rikku, FFX.

Your past is a part of you, but it isn't who you are. Remininsce, but don't live in the past. It's worthless and will get you virtually nowhere.

I'm a big past-dweller, I know it. I keep missing the things that are going on right now, because I'm too preoccupied with things that already happened.

I'm also aware that I've been a nasty piece of work this year. It's not -my- fault persay, buttt. I don't necessarily have an excuse for it either. Screw you, hypothyroidism.

So, I'm going to work on it.

I'm going to catch myself before I say something downright nasty or unthoughtful. And I'm going to get myself motivated.

I'm going to show the people I love that I love them.
And I'm going to be kinder, and more outgoing.
I'm going to be more respectful to my parents.

And most of all, I'm going to learn to respect myself.

And I'm sure my closest friends are going to read this and say:


AMEN.

Music Mondays?

Themed days? Bahah. I'm ridiculous.

Anyways. Going to try something new.

Each Monday, I'm going to try to write about music. I may write about an artist, an album, a musical period, or all of the above.

I'll make a button. Eventually.

Today's subject?

Everybody's favorite fame monster of course!



So, I know there are plenty of people who think she's just way out there strange.

But I love Lady Gaga. I think she's pure genius. She's also an example of our culture, and what it takes to make it in America.

Here she is in the past. Before she went Gaga, she was Stefani.




She's...umm...normal, right?

Listen to a couple songs on that album. Different, huh?

But good!

But, the Fame Monster 1 & 2 is also pretty good in my opinion. On our way to Florida, my best friend and I listened to those two CDs for hours on end.

Which makes a pretty good CD if you're not tired of it after 50 hours. (Okay, 50 hours is exaggerating, but we listened to it a lot. Ha)

The music is infectious. And even if you think the ro-ma-ma-ma-ma-oo-la-ga-ga-ga stuff is stupid, you know you've sang it to yourself more than once.

I mean, Beyonce has worked with the woman. You don't hear of Beyonce collaborating too much either.
So I think that has to say something.

Why do we like her?

Because she's strange.

America -feeds- off of the odd and peculiar. Ironic for a country that pushes for so much conformity, eh?

But it does! We normal folk aren't interested in normal people. We like people who are different.

Think Michael Jackson, Madonna, Britney Spears, or any other celebrity would gain that status being normal? Sure, they're celebrities, but our culture fixates on these oddballs. (Look at the people still buzzing about MJ's death, or "death" as some would call it.)

I don't think so.

So, it doesn't surprise me that Lady Gaga gets as much attention for her quirks as her music.

I do find, that her music repeats themes though. There is another song on the same album (can't remember which off of the top of my head), but it has the exact same background music as Just Dance. The lyrics and melody are different, but, she does recycle a lot of her other pieces into new ones.

Not saying it's a bad thing. But, I suppose interesting is a good word.

Occasionally, artists will refer back to other hits. For example, Bon Jovi sings a lot about the same couple, Tommy and Gina. Michael Jackson in his videos usually referred back to other songs. Wanna be Starting Something refers to Billie Jean, and Dangerous (only when performed live) refers to Smooth Criminal. Britney Spears's Stronger refers back to Baby One More Time. But, it's not quite the same, because they are just snippets of the song, or are sung completely differently. Lady Gaga is the first I've personally heard to just use the background for another song and turn it into a new completely different song.

At first, I thought it was lazy and unoriginal. But, I think it's actually kind of creative. You're free to disagree if you wish :]

Her music itself is interesting too. All of her songs, at least the ones I've heard are very ...dance-y? (I can't currently think of the right word I want to say.) But they do make you want to get up and dance. And all of her songs are upbeat, even the ones that are classified more as pop ballads.

And cripes people, she's ORIGINAL. Sure, she borrows on some themes, but what's wrong with being inspired by other songs? There are only so many combinations of notes, sometimes they are bound to get repeated. It happens. And how many people do -you- know that would wear Kermit the frog?

None. Props to her.

So yes.
I like Lady Gaga. Overall thumbs up, for being a capitalist genius and pretty cool.

What do you think about her?

The Weekend Irk: Thinking Before You Speak

Hey guys, I know it's Monday, but I'm off today, so it's still the weekend to me. So, it's time for:



Today's irk? -- Those social morons who choose to speak before they think things through.

Sure, we've all done it. Said something stupid, spilled a secret, or said something hurtful. Then we clasp our hands over our mouths and say "Oops." (Of course, different words probably go around in our heads, but those are blog appropriate are they?)

But, there are such people that exist out there, that make you wonder: do they -ever- think about the
things they say? Are they really that clueless, or are they purposely saying the stupidest things you've ever heard?

I'm related to one such person, and it boggles me. It's difficult to think that we come from the same gene pool sometimes.

For instance, she looks to my sister and I and says,

"Never date a boy without both of his parents. They're screwed up."

Ahem. First of all, to judge a person simply based on his or her parentage, is idiodic. Second, my father grew up without his parents, and though I'm biased, I think my dad is a pretty upstanding guy. He's always taken care of my sister and I and loves my mother so much. Irritating. My sister and I both dated boys without parents. And though it didn't work out in either case, they are both wonderful guys.

I was irritated.

Then comes the bombshell.

"Girls, do you know anyone who came from a split family who isn't a deliquent?"

I cleared my throat and looked her straight in the eye.

"My best friend comes from the most split family you have ever seen. I don't think anyone in her family hasn't been divorced. But she is the most caring, kindest, most intelligent person I have ever met. And kids like that have been through more than you can imagine. So I'd appreciate it if you'd not say anything like that again around me again. Thanks."



Ironically, I didn't think about saying that before I said it.



What a maroon. -Bugs Bunny

Weekend Irk: Know-it-alls.

Like my new bloggity blog? The Wifey made it.

I'm going to start probably following some of the things she does on her blog until I come up with some creative stuff on my own. But for now, I'm gonna go with her Weekend Irk.




So, I go to a liberal arts college. Pretty neat right? If you don't know what that means, it's that I'm disciplined in more than my major and minor. You pay a lot for it. And you concentrate a lot less on your major. Buttt. I suppose it has its advantages. Sometimes you'd like to take a different class just to break up the day. Unfortunately for me, I have but one more core class to take, save PE credits. I decided for my art credit this semester to take Music Appreciation.

B-W has a world renowned Music Conservatory, along with the best and biggest collection of original Bach scores in the world. It's super hard to get into, and super hard to stay into. I almost auditioned to be in it, since my dream is to be a musician. (I constantly sing to myself. My roommate told me one day: "It's not American Idol. Simon's not here. Not that you wouldn't go to Hollywood, but...there's no one here to impress..."). I'm confident that if I had auditioned my senior year, I would have gotten into the conservatory no shakes. But, my parents felt I had a more practical future...hrmph. So, I went for biology. (My effort in this subject is laughable). But, it's a tight place. It's like some kind of vortex in Berea. You walk into that building, and it feels like you aren't even on campus. Sometimes this is a pleasant feeling...sometimes it's not.

So, I take Music Appreciation. And I feel it's up there on my list of worst decisions of 2010. I feel bad for the kids in my class who haven't had any musical background, because the way this guy is teaching, they'd have to be failing. He rambles faster than you can think, and expects you to already have a knowledge of the ins and outs of music. If you don't have a musical background, just know that it's a lot. Just one aspect of music has a 100 terms to describe it. It took me a course of 10 years to learn most of these. And this particular professor expects his non-musical students to have a complete grasp of these terms by the end of the semester.

Oh, and even if we know all these terms, we're not expected to appreciate music. Isn't that the point of class? From what I gather, only the elite talented in the Conservatory are able to appreciate music for all it's worth. (-sarcasm-) In my own personal opinion, -everyone- appreciates music. Have you ever known a person who doesn't like -any- music? Sure, we all have our specific preferences. For example, I have friends who are techno geeks, alternative rockers, country buffs, classical, to marching band arrangements. (Me? I'll listen to anything. 80's rock and pop though is probably my favorite. Lots of new and different sounds). Some of us preform to music, some of us listen to concentrate, some work out to it, some analyze and critique it, and some of us just want to listen to music for sheer enjoyment.

I have a special attachment to music, since the day I picked up my first music book in kindergarten. I remember F.A.C.E., and "Every good boy does fine." I remember the first time I tooted through my clarinet, and opening my keyboard on Christmas day. I remember my first solo in the band, the first time I hit a high high C singing, my first surperior rating singing, my first Guitar Hero five starring on expert, the first time I caught my five with a rifle right on a beat, the first time I danced in front of thousands of people...With each guy I dated, I'm remember the first song I danced with them to. I can remember song names, artists, and years produced like it's no one's business. I sing to myself when I'm happy, and I sing to myself when I'm sad. When no one is around, I blast music and dance until someone's caught me reddfaced. I know chords, I know progressions. I know tempo, beat, meter, key, tone, and more. Music has helped me through the best of times, and it's helped me through the worst of times.


So, dear sir. Do not tell me I do not appreciate music. Because I'm pretty sure that even though I don't -know- music as well as you do, I appreciate it more. Because I understand what appreciating it is.

dr. stanleycakes?

So, I am now a Psychology major.

I was a biology major before. But I was terrible at it. Go figure.

I think I am so terrible at biology because it wasn't my passion.

Psychology is.

I plan on going into I/O Psychology to begin with. (Industrial/Organizational). I'll be employed by corporations. My job will be to meet with employees, on either a weekly, monthly, or as needed basis. I will interview them, and counsel them as necessary. I will also take into account things that could improve their workplace, such as what to put into the vending machines, or if they're happy with their insurance. I can also help them with their nonprofessional lives so that they can be happy, healthy, and successful in their careers. I want to be specialized in dealing with depression.

After a considerable amount of experience in that field, I plan on returning to graduate school to get my PhD or PsyD, and working on becoming established enough to run my own practice as a counselor Psychologist.

I'm excited about it.

The human brain has always fascinated me. It's one huge paradox. It's specialized, yet surprisingly plastid. The things we can learn and process simply boggles me. I want to know more about how it all works. Psychology is the one class where I don't get the urge to nod off.

What really made me decide to go for this degree is my own bought of depression. I never knew what it had felt like. I was at a point where the only thing I -could- do was shower. I barely ate, slept, studied...I didn't even browse facebook or have the energy to watch tv. I kind of sat comatose for a good month...maybe more.

I don't want to have to see or hear of anyone ever having to go through what I did.

I had a support system. I had people who love me and could slap me and yank me out of it. It makes me shudder to think what kinds of thoughts I was having at that time. They weren't pretty.

But not everyone has that. Some people have been abused and tortured their entire lives, whether verbally, mentally, physically or sexually. I want to help people who have had no one in their lives to turn to. I want to help people take charge of their lives and learn how to live.

One friend told me once,

"You know, you're life would be perfect if you simply took your own advise."

Ha. Yeah. I never take my own advise. Hence the mayhem I get myself into.

But, I want to help people. I like to listen to people and their stories. I don't think I'll really enjoy ripping out someone's heart and putting a new one in. I want to mend those broken hearts so that they don't need replaced. (Ahhh, metaphors.)

BFF?

What is a best friend? Well. Here's my opinion.

A best friend is someone you can take a week long roadtrip with and not want to kill afterwards.

A best friend is someone who loves you for exactly who you are, not despite of your faults, but -because- of them.

A best friend is someone you can talk to about anything and have no inhibitions.

A best friend does not tell you they love you and take it back.

A best friend, however, will never leave you knowing you love them.

A best friend keeps things locked in the 'vault'.

A best friend is one that you can make fun of eachother with, and never get offended with.

You can google anything with your best friend.

Your best friend is someone who will hold you when you cry, even when you're crying about them.

Your best friend wants to hear about you. Not just complain about their lives.

Your best friend shamelessly takes you to meet all of their family. And isn't afraid to meet yours.

Your best friend never starts rumors about you.

Your best friend never lies to you, even to make you happy.

Your best friend will give their opinion and not tell you what to do.

Your best friend will support your decisions, unless they're harmful.

Your best friend will come cuddle with you in the middle of the night when you miss them.

Your best friend will do anything to be with you.

Your best friend will trust you.


I am lucky to say that I have two of the best friends in the world.

I know they'd do anything for me. (within reason of course).

The whole world seems pale in comparison to them.

the L word, big break, and big fights.

I know, I know. I should have made my first blog a while ago.

Life has been a wonderful whirlwind lately.

Two weeks ago, I started this (I think). In the middle of midterm exams. Go me.

And I've spent the last week all over the place, you see.

Big Break '10 was an epic success.

It all started Thursday. My man friend and I took our relationship to the next level- the "l" word. It was one of those words that I've been absolutely terrified to say. I haven't said that word to anyone in a very long time. And, although I was absolutely positive about how I felt about this boy, I'd never seriously said those three words to him. "Love ya"s and "I wuv youuuuuu"s were a commonplace. But never did I actually say ", I love you." And that day, I said goodbye to him just as I usually do. And as he opens the door, word vomit ensues.

", I love you.", I said.

He stopped dead in his tracks, and looked at me, with the biggest smile I've seen him make towards me yet. I probably looked petrified, or else turned a brilliant shade of red.

"I love you too," he said, smile still on his face. He turned again to kiss me one last time before heading out the door.

I feel like my heart is going 100 mph just remembering it. He is the greatest guy I have ever met. Sure, he has his flaws, but we all do. To me, the sun shines out his not-so-shiny areas. That's good enough for me :]

Friday, I took two tests and was free as a bird. Came back to hastily gather up my things, and my best friend and I were out of dear B-W quicker than you can say "Spring Break".

We spent the night at my parents' house. Guitar hero-ing ensued as well as some wonderful Pangrazios pizza. (It's really good. my favorite pizza in the county. No lies.) We went to bed at about midnight, because we were too excited about our upcoming trip.

Got up at 4:45 am. That was rough. Left the house at 6 am or so. Ten hours is what it took for us to get to Anniston, AL. It didn't seem like that much though. I attribute it to my company. Ha. I met my best friend's family for the first time (besides her mother, whom I have met once). We all went out to O'Charlie's for dinner. Apparently these resturaunts are common in the South. I had fried catfish. It was om. Went to Logan's to meet some of her friends. Played Band Hero with Sha-Ray and her step father and called it a night.

Sunday- woke up around 7. Had breakfast at the Cracker Barrel with Sha-Ray's family. (I didn't realize that hash brown casserole was my favorite thing on the planet.) Then off we were to Florida. The drive was decent; lots of interstate driving. I got pretty excited when I saw my first palm tree. (I've seen them before, just was excited when they became more apparent.) We stopped at a gas station on the way there to take a bathroom break. In the bathroom, there was a giant condom machine, labeled with some interesting names. I giggled like a 12 year old about it We didn't follow Sha-Ray's Grandaddy's instructions, so we ended up going over a toll bridge. And even though $2.50 is a ridiculous price to go over a bridge, the scenery was beautiful. We got to her grandparents' house after about 5 or 6 hours. Place was beautiful. We visited, had chicken and dumplings for dinner, and spent some time out on the fishing pier and relaxed. It was a great time.

Monday- beach day uno! We got up, had breakfast and visited. Then, we promptly made our way to Panama City. We stopped at a quiet little public beach between the towns of Watercolor and Seaside. Lots of very very rich people live there. We saw the house the Kellog's family used to own. And by house, I mean spaceship-mansion. It was amazing. After lazing around there for a few minutes, we drove to Panama City Beach. We bought some shorts and some sunscreen, got some Taco Bell and laid out on the beach. We also took a walk down the beach. In Panama City, all you can smell is beer. Oh, Spring Break. I saw a man wearing a girl's bikini top as their bottoms. That wasn't so pretty. Then I saw this bronzed man wearing uber tight americana boy shorts and a cowboy hat. He was pretty beautiful. Had to remind myself of the aforementioned boy I'm in love with. Haha. We spent the remainder of our time on the beach and drove back home for salmon for dinner. Which was delicious I might add. That night we walked around a shopping complex and had Ben and Jerry's for dessert out on the fishing pier.

Tuesday- beach day two! We went to this giant complex in Destin called the Emerald Grande and Harborwalk Village. It was a really sweet place. Bunch of little shops, and the hotel was absolutely beautiful. We went to a pulic beach down the street and it was amazing. It was one giant sand dune, and there was pretty much no one out there. The water was beautiful. It was my favorite of the beaches we visited. Went out to dinner with her grandparents, then went to Destin Commons. We saw Alice in Wonderland in 3D. It was pretty sweet, no lies. We walked around the p

Wednesday- Woke up. Spent some time at a beach. Then came back and really, just relaxed the rest of the day. Had yummy pot roast for dinner.

Thursday- left Florida :[ Drove 6 hours back to Sha Ray's mother's house. We went out to eat again with several of her friends, and drove around town, up to Mount Cheaha (?) and looked at the city. Went to bed early because we both were car sick.

Friday- got up early and played some more Band Hero. Ate some breakfast, and went to see Valentine's day, which was super cute. Ate at Fuji, and met another set of grandparents. After that, we ate at Mexico Lindo, the home of some legit and delicioso comida mexicana. Visited with an aunt and came home and went to bed.

Saturday- back to Ohio. The drive was brutal. Had a fight with my parents. Played a lot of guitar hero.

Sunday- lazed around the house. Went to lunch. Drove back to school.

What did you do last week?

I'm Stanleycakes!

And I'm starting a blog. :)