A poem, until tomorrow

Alright.. I know I've been slacking off already, but my week has been the worst week ever. I know it's no excuse, but I don't feel like writing.. and I don't feel like eating or sleeping or walking or anything..

So, I'm going to leave y'all with a poem today. I am taking a poetry class this semester, and I am in love with it. I am seriously considering changing my major. I want to write for a living. I wrote this poem for our 2nd workshop. So far, I have only heard good things about my poems, and the class seems to enjoy them. That is a GREAT boost of confidence for me. It is SO hard for me to let people read my poems, but it is getting easier and easier, and I actually like it. It's good to know that I can write something that moves other people. So, here it is. Enjoy.

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“hell is other people”
jean-paul sartre

to fall asleep to the
beating of your heart as
your breath slowly moves
down that part
of my neck
sending goosebumps scattering
down my spine as you line
your plump pink lips on the base
and move them in gentle whispers

is to feel heaven

but here, tonight
as the tears caress my face
because you won’t
and i lace my fingers through my hair and pull
you sit there as i cry
watching as my soul slowly fades away
and listening to you mutter these lame excuses
hurts like a thousand paper cuts

and i am in hell

(okay.. the lines look different but i cant do the spacing on this!!!! it makes me angry... the 1st stanza is ordered, and the 2nd is spaced differently, chaotic, to add to the emotions in the poem.. okay?)

Happy Happy!

Happy birthday to the sister who aspires to be like me..



(Do you get that one, Heather. Tee hee!)

I love you!

I'm back.. if you'll have me!

Well, the only person that is going to read this (because I'm sure I've lost all of my readers by now) has successfully called me out and has made me feel guilty about abandoning my dear, sweet blog (I felt guilty before, don't get me wrong). Needless to say, it has worked, and here I am!

I know that Summertiiiime is over. TRUST ME! I've been walking around campus freezing my tits off (and you know that's a lot of freezing). And I must add that Cinco de Mayo is every day here at JMU, but whatever..

What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. Really, I am, but I'll have you know that I am seriously considering changing my major to (or at least minoring in) CREATIVE WRITING!!!! (That means I might blog more! Well, I'll blog more regardless or my sister will drive up here and beat my ass!)

So, I'll try to write daily, but now I must start working on some homework (or procrastinating.. you know me!)

Until TOMORROW,
Adios

Summertiiiime, and the livin's easy*

My first year of college is now officially over (and has been since 8:36 am Thursday). YES! I am so glad it's over. (Not that I didn't enjoy college; trust me, I may have enjoyed it a little too much!) I'm just glad that I don't have class and I don't have to bullshit my way through anymore papers and I don't have to listen to crazy professors teach me things I will NEVER need in my life (such as changing a number from base 10 into base 3--WTF??--or the incubation period for herpes... wait.. may need that one.. jk) and that I don't have class.

I may not be writing for a couple of days because I need to get myself settled (i.e. turn the piles of shit I brought home into neat piles of clothes and books, locate my underwear--I'm all out, and reclaim my room).

So, don't miss me too much. I'll be back soon.

Oh, and how could I forget... HAPPY CINCO DE MAYO!!!!

*It's from a Sublime song! And you should know this because Sublime simply kicks ass.

M.I.A. UPDATE!

Bear was found wrapped up in a pocketbook, in a long storage bin Friday. I guess he was tired of being at college, too, so he planned his escape. Obviously, it was successful. He put me through one night of hell, but I'll forgive him because he's too cute. This is a picture of Bear and I very early on in our relationship (courtesy of HD, my sister). I am three years old; the pictures he participated in were pre-school pictures, not kindergarten.

Aren't we cute?

I'm glad he's back. Thank you, Mom, for searching everywhere. And thank you, Heather, for the picture. When I get back, we're throwing a HUGE party in celebration of his return. Wanna smoke a doobie, Mom?*

*Just so you know, my mom doesn't smoke doobies. She'd probably freak out if anyone thought she did. I like to freak her out.

M.I.A. (which can also stand for My Insides Ache)

Tonight I lost a very special friend. Because I don't have a picture of him, I drew one for you, here.

Bear. He was a good bear. I'm not really sure if Bear is his name; actually, I'm not really sure he has ever had a name. So, in his memory, I will now give him a name.. Hmm..

Winslow. He was a good bear. We've been together since.. since I can remember. He didn't hog the covers, but that little shit loved to pull a Dutch Oven on me. He was always willing to sit around in one of these babies (the red and yellow kind--you know!!--when we were both very young) and endure many hours of supermarket fun. He even agreed to participate in my Kindergarten photos (mine and every other kid's--I bet there were some pretty pissed off moms because he was even mangy then!). He kept me company on rainy, stormy nights. He always had good jokes. He lost his tongue a while back, so he is mute now. (Don't worry, we've mastered sign language.)

Today, my mom, sister, and sister's boyfriend came up to take a few things home (BECAUSE MY FIRST YEAR OF COLLEGE IS OFFICIALLY OVER IN T-MINUS 7 DAYS!). Before they came, I made my bed and placed Cookie and Winslow (Bear) on my bed, right next to my blankie (if any of you are laughing at me because I still sleep with Cookie--since 4th grade--my blankie--since I was BORN-- and Winslow--since I can remember--THEN YOU ARE DEAD TO ME! HAVE YOU NO SOUL?). We packed my things into the car, went to exchange some things at Target, and then had a nice dinner at Chili's. I noticed Winslow was missing when we returned.

After everyone left, I tore my room to pieces. I stripped my bed and pulled it away from the wall (not there, nor was he underneath the bed). I looked inside the desk drawers, my clothes drawers, my closets, my fridge, my camera case, and my basket of dirty clothes--Winslow was nowhere to be found. My heart sank.

My mom says she will look in everything we packed, but I am pretty sure he isn't there. Did you see Cookie. Here, look at him again. Notice how jacked up his arm is? It had to be sewed back on because Walter the Glutton (aka Sir Caesar Goliath--named before we got him.. we are not that psycho) decided he looked tasty. Also, that pink belly is not his original belly, nor are his ears, tale, or tongue. You probably can't tell from the picture, but he is pretty raggety. I've had him for almost 10 years.

Now, imagine Winslow, who I've had for about 17 years. He's even worse off than Cookie. Tell me, who would steal a mangy ass bear? (And no one can call him mangy but me.. He may be ragged and worn, but he's my widdle waggety Winslow!)

If Winslow isn't in anything that I packed up, I am informing my RA's that we have a major crisis on our hands. And that I will go Tom Cruise on someone's ass if Winslow isn't found before I leave.

(In all seriousness.. this bear means a whole lot to me. I freakin' cried, okay? If I don't find him, I will be devastated; a little piece of me will die inside. I will miss him tonight. I hope you come home safe, Winslow.)

Robot invasion

I had a dream Monday night that scared the holy living shit out of me. (I am writing about it now because earlier I did not have a paper to write, thus I did not have the need to procrastinate.)

This dream was actually quite funny, and I believe that a few of my readers would like it to come true.. sort of.

The dream started off in the dining room of my house. It was dark outside, not nighttime dark, but "it's about to rain and something horrible (such as The End of the World) is about to happen" dark. (You know that time between daylight and dusk, when it's "cozy" dark outside, the perfect time for a nap, and it feels like something (good or bad) could happen? Is that just me? Anyway, that's what time it was in my dream.)

We were having a family dinner, though an odd one (it really won't seem odd unless you are, in fact, part of my family). Those present were my oldest sister (just her, not my other sister), my mom, my dad, and my grandparents (dad's side.) (Now you see why this is a dream? I just don't think this could happen.. ha).

ANYWAYYSSS.. my sister said something about the war and it being over soon hopefully (whatever she said in the dream was awesome.. but I forgot about it as the dream progressed..). My grandmother gasped and said, "HEATHER! ARE YOU A PART OF THIS FAMILY??" I then went on to bash Bush with my sister, and got into a heated argument with my grandmother. Something along the lines of "I hate Bush, if that means I can't be part of this family.. well, then... I REALLY REALLY REALLY HATE BUSH!"

That didn't make my grandmother very happy. All of a sudden, the only people in the dream are my grandparents and me. We are in our living room now, the lights are all off (is this necessary), and it's beginning to get a little creepy. My grandfather is trying to calm my grandmother down. It isn't working. Fire is coming out of her nose, her head is smoking, and wait.. yes, it's starting to spin.

Literally... turns out, she's a robot. (Go figure.) My grandfather then disappears. It's only me and the flesh-eating, very hungry, Bush-loving, liberal-hating, robot grandmother. I'm seriously terrified. This may sound funny to you guys, but I wanted to die. I had to smash my grandmother's face into concrete, over and over and over again.

Now, whoever made my robot grandmother was very smart, because it appears that she never dies. I grab my suitcase (I guess I was prepared for a robot invasion) and head for the car. I jump in the car only to realize that it's not a car. It's a freakin' camper. Not a camper with a steering wheel and stuff, but one that you attach to a car. And guess what? There is no car attached to it.

So I shrug and go inside to smash my grandmother's face into the concrete until she DOES DIE. I then go into the kitchen and eat cupcakes like nothing has happened.

Just kidding.. I run outside and a bunch of guys are standing in my driveway. THEY HAVE A JEEP! I grab the keys and tell them we must go; my grandmother is a robot, and I'm not sure if she really is dead. We all go to a frat party that ends in disaster. The building collapses, the toilets explode. There is filth everywhere. I have been taken to the robot headquarters. I see millions of robots coming towards me as I hide in a little crack in the wall. My grandmother is at the front, buzzing and sparking because concrete beats metal...

...and I wake up. DAMMIT! I wanted to know what happened, too. But after I woke up (I did laugh a little), I couldn't get back to sleep. I kept looking around the room for something, anything. I just had a weird feeling... and I was really, really scared.

You can all laugh at me now.

Tomatoes and free wings

On Thursday (4/20--keep this in mind)** I went to dinner with a couple of friends to Buffalo Wild Wings. If you filled out an ungodly amount of paperwork (credit card offers and such) you could get a free burger or free wings.

I am notorious for getting a cheeseburger whenever I go out to dinner, so I gladly filled out the papers and was SO FREAKIN' EXCITED about my free cheeseburger (when we got in there though, THEY WERE OUT OF BURGERS--how? why? you suck!--so I ate the wings and I have no complaints).

I am getting off topic here. The first sheet of paper we had to fill out had the words Tell us about yourself! at the very top. The lonely guy that was with us (4 girls) wrote, in the place where they asked for your name, I like tomatoes.

He claimed he was telling them about himself. I laughed for about 20 minutes. I had tears running down my face. I'm sure everyone thought we were high (nope, Mom, you weren't there, so I wasn't!!).

**For those of you who don't know, the number 420 is associated with the act of, well getting high. On April 20th stoners everywhere celebrate by.. well, basically by getting high all day long.

Oh, and Happy Earth Day!!