Girl Machete

Your body wants sleep. There's this ticking in your head that starts at dusk and ends at dawn, though, and there's not a lot you can do to quiet it.

Then you're sitting on this cinder block in the corner between juniper and dried earth.

It's pretty dark. Streetlights are far apart, and most of them burnt out a few nights back. The sky's clear, but if you stare directly into it all the stars fade out and the only thing left to blind you is what's left of the moon. You blow smoke straight up to hide it. The smoke curls, though, and this gleaming silver brooch is just mocking you, making your eyes ache, so you turn your attention to that piece of brown butcher paper that rolled into the yard a few weeks ago and never went away. It's ugly and your eyes shut down, so sitting there feels like a carnival ride.

Your ears start watching the street. Someone's whispering three blocks away and you wish your collar was down because when your hair rustles against that damn coat it's like a flock of geese are taking off from your shoulders. A flourish of strumpets giggling and pointing, with long earrings banging around like monkey cymbals against your collar bone. Loud. Now it's your breath, ragged, rank like cancer and shitmint gum. The air's rattling around in your lungs, your breath's gone just from sitting on a fucking cinder block. Someone stops whispering three blocks away and you still wish your coat would shut up.

The cherry stops glowing, but for some reason when you drop the filter on concrete it explodes. The ticking stops.

Your bed smells like lavender and vanilla.

It has finally been discovered that I, Meghan, am fucked up, and that it is high time I get a therapist.

On the bright side, Mom and I sort of talked. Not about the future, mostly just about my brain. Actually most of it was me sobbing into her shoulder for the better part of a half an hour, and her telling me just how much of a blessing I am and that she loves me so much and that she's just worried I'll get fucked over by somebody if I leave like her and Shannon both did even though I have impeccable judgment and saying that she loves me some more and saying how sorry she is that she didn't try to talk to me sooner  and pretty much making me want to cry more. Luckily, there were no snot rockets.

She asked me if I still talk to God. I don't know if I ever did. If there's a god out there running the cosmos, I should hope he's got better things to worry about than what's going on with a bitch like me.

Otherwise I'd never be able to see who covered my shit up.


The bitched out skull and "Have a Cunty Day" are mine. And the fuck you, too.

I'm having an off day.

You're gonna come down here and  smile and set Draco on my lap and say "Good night, honey," and when you leave you'll wonder again what's wrong with me. Could you please just fucking ask?

Remember the horrible ol' days when I'd update this thing twice daily, with every stupid fucking thought that entered my stupid fucking head at any stupid fucking time?

I'm just cranky because somebody I don't know figured me out a little bit before I did, apparently, and I'm not too happy about that. I mean, I would like to figure me out a little first before I just hand the reins over to somebody else. Or something. God, it really has been a while. At least I could get my brains on paper then. Figuratively speaking, of course.

A lot's happened since November. Mostly receiving and losing things. Got a house, a kitten (vicious little thing, enjoys terrorizing the local humans and dining on my knuckles, but fucking cute as hell), a laptop, the name of my next niece-to-be (Ava, I love it). Lost some friends, some weight, some morals, some old habits (the good ones).

I suppose that sums it up nicely, the things that've been happening. The problems are wired in my brain. They're not out here.

I went into detail but decided you don't need to know. Goodnight

Friday, 4 August 2006   12:08am

Soooo we left yesterday for another roadtrip. We got in the car and headed to Liverpool... ended up staying at some seedy little Premier hotel (my words) with decorative bars on the windows and a shoddy well. Around ten o’clock last night we ate at the bar across the street and I tried English “lemonade” for the first time. That was a mistake. But I noticed a sign on a fence outside the bar that said “Anti-Theft Grease,” which somehow brought up a conversation about tattoos, which prompted my dad to ask me what kind of tat I’d like to get.

When I told him something I’d been thinking about (and never told anyone) for a few years, something that was heavily influenced by my Harry Potter obsession and love of shock and bad weather, he thought was such a kick-ass plan he said he’d take me this weekend to get it done, and get it done himself as well! So that was very cool and I was ecstatic... but we decided to wait a few months, til my 17th birthday, to get it done, just to make sure we get the right design and the right artist to do it for us as well.  Plus I need to spice it up a little in a Meghan-way, because I was talking to Jacob a week or so ago about tattoos... I didn’t mention my brilliant idea at all and he’d said he wanted to do almost exactly the same thing as me. So I’m gonna kick it up a notch and mix it up with a similar tattoo opposite this one. But what I want is so small that even my mom said she wouldn’t mind... so I’m really happy, and I don’t think I’ll need to sneak this one. Plus all those shitty little home-piercings I’ve done in the past year came up in the conversation as well, and I can get those done professionally without having to worry now. I was going to sneak them in the next month or so anyway, but at least now I won’t have to keep hiding them.
    
So... this morning.

 I scalded myself while washing my face this morning as the cold water gave out, and stumbled about the room for four minutes cursing under my breath and squinting through the Clearasil bleeding into my eyes. It was a truly pitiful sight. I’m really cranky in the mornings after staying in the same hotel room as my entire family for the night, so this didn’t help my mood. I got pissed off at oatmeal because I hate hate HATE oatmeal. I got pissed off at myself because I burned my hand when I dropped and reflex-actioned my blasted flat iron. I got pissed off at my dad for asking me HOW many times I’ve done that. And I got pissed off at Celine Dion being all contemporary bitchwad in my grill during all of this on Brit TV.

Sooo we got in the car and took off towards Wales. I like Wales.. It’s very pretty and the people are all very nice, although there are no vowels in the names of anything (because it’s in Welch... duh, Meghan), and everything is minuscule. Walking down the street in this (little) town, the sidewalk was about a foot and a half wide. The people seem smaller. The street was a lane and a half wide. The doorways come up to about an inch above my head. The houses are one and a half stories tall, like on Pike Street. It’s very ridiculous, because the cars are bigger than anywhere else in Britain I’ve been. But it’s all very cute because it looks like bleeding Snow White’s cottage all over the place.

We went to the Durkin or Dukin or something castle which they’d turned into a hotel to look for a place to stay tonight... the walk up to the castle was basically the cutest ever. I was listening to the Mariner’s Revenge the way up, and it was just perfect because I’d never been through a tunnel made of trees and the eery way the light plays against the dirt on the ground goes hand in hand with the eery mandolin and tubas in that song.

So we finally get up to the castle and it’s basically gorgeous inside. And we get all paid for to stay and it’s super expensive blah blah but then we get up to the room and it’s the shittiest mattress ever... and both the rents have bad backs now and just couldn’t deal with such torture so we turned in our keys. Which is a good thing because I love the place we found instead... it’s on a hill outside the town with the castle, and you can see the entire country just laid out ahead of you with farms and fields and forests in miniature 20 miles away and it’s really lovely. We got our own little cottage to stay at for the cost of two rooms at the castle, and there’s a pool and all that nonsense, and just an amazing, amazing view.

So we found this place here and drove around for a while... but got pretty hungry. A little further down the hill from us is this little restaurant. Since this is such a small town and it’s kinda out in the boonies we thought it’d be bar meals or something, which is fine. But we get in there and sit down and look at the menu and it’s all these crazy fancy foreign 30-pound foods. We all got something... interesting... except for Spud, who went with his usual pepperoni pizza. Which he gets EVERY SINGLE TIME, but whatever. The waiter was also the bartender and also the chef, because his wife only speaks Welsh I guess... which seems odd because the chef had an accent that I couldn’t place. He called me Mademoiselle, he had an Italian slur, and he sounded like a Spaniard. Very hard to place. So we asked and he said originally he’d been from Cairo... Egypt. Hey guys, I met my first Egyptian today! He thought we were from Louisiana, haha. He’d visited New Orleans I guess, when he lived in Miami because of the “heat and the speedcars.” But he’d also lived in France, Canada, Italy, Spain, Germany, and England before starting up this restaurant in Wales. And all these crazy influences really came together quite nicely.

My mom got the Foie Gras or something. French for fancy cooked duck. And it was also delicious... I don’t like dark meat but I tried some of hers and it was great, especially since they cooked it in God-knows what, some liquor or wine or something, but it was very good.
My dad just got this mixed BBQ thing which turned out to be the best steak we’ve had in the UK and some chicken cooked in I think a red wine as well? I have no idea but it was fantastic. And then my brother’s pizza even had a strange flair to it, very VERY flavorful bread and a different cheese but it was ssssuper. I got the Polla Tropicana, because it was the only thing I could pronounce without feeling too stupid. It turned out to be completely amazing... it was chicken cooked in rum and white wine with strange foreign fruits and strawberries and grapes and mandarin and some cream on the side, and it was the best chicken I’ve ever had in my life. I thought it would be iffy but it was amazing.

So after we ate we went down to the pool and I did a couple laps and then passed out from being so full in the hot tub. Basically we spent the rest of the night just chillin outside and watching Bonanza haha.

But a while ago I did a sneaky deed... when darkness fell, I got up and put on black pants and a black hoodie. I escaped out into the dead of night and traveled down to the front of the hotel... There are about 5 flagpoles in front of the hotel with the Union Jack, the English flag, Welsh flag, the Scottish flag, and some others...  Inexplicably, the American flag was among them. But the American flag had gotten tangled in the ropes and fallen to the ground. The other flags were tattered and a few were hanging from one corner but ours was the worst. So I decided to steal it.
I snuck down there and carefully unknotted the whole thing. I gathered it up and slipped back into the little cottage. I folded it the way one is supposed to fold the flag, and I set it on the coffee table. I’ll probably wait til I’m back in the states to burn it. But I felt like I was really stickin’ it to the Queen, doing that.

I’m tired... g’night chall...

"It is a frightful poetical creed that the cultivation of the brain eats out the heart."
        ~Letter from H. Melville to N. Hawthorne

Indeed!

Last night I drove with Spud down to Coors Field, which took ages since it was during rush hour... and getting back was a bitch as well. I didn't remember until we were at least 10 minutes away that I wouldn't be parking at the field, I'd be in the employee parking lot... which is a decent ways away, as you need to take a shuttle to the field. It was pretty fun but all very pointless, since I'd already decided I was going to take the Lightrail in =p

As we're leaving Denver, I spy this massive thrift store, and it was one of those things were I go, "EEEECH *turn haphazardly into lot*." It was an ultra-ghetto cross between Ross and the Goodwill, but within 3 minutes of breaching its outer defenses I found this bombass motherfucking JACKET for $10. It's brown, looks like leather (it's some polyurethane bullshit, though there were genuine leather jackets in varying states of shabbiness for as low as $4 in there!), with yellow piping and a lovely big hood that's got fur around the edges but it doesn't look all gaysauce. It is quite cozy, it zips up over the boobs and everything, but it tends to creep up over my hips and rests at my waist... so I can't wear it if I'm gonna be carrying things in each hand.

After that escapade, I took Spud to Denny's because I haven't had good old-fashioned American Trash Food in ages. He got the pancakes and I got THE SUPERBIRD. It was like, a turkey sandwich with cheese and bacon and tomatoes, and they deep-fried the entire confection. With hashbrowns. Oh lord. So much grease, so little time.  The first five bites were magical. After that it got kind of cold and icky.

Then a brief trip to the store for gummy worms and Twix bars, and we returned. I looked up train schedules and told mom about them, and she made me call the RTD 2 times to make sure my route would work and then to ask how long the trains are running. Apparently she doesn't trust those online schedules much. Rather trust a jaded, angst-ridden customer service worker, instead.

The point of the story: after all that, the Zombie Fest continued. Spud and I watched Land of the Dead (crap) and 28 Days Later (zomg I love those!) and then I took Chester to pee, locked up the house and passed out promptly at 11:00.

I had some weird ass dreams last night, though.

Urgh: I'm nervous for tonight. I hope I can talk to those 300 people, take their picture, not freeze to death, and not have the camera go bonkers on me, all in one go. It would also be cool if I didn't get hit in the face with a foul ball, considering my current situation.

I'm going to all three Denver games in the World Series.

I don't have to buy a ticket.

THEY ARE PAYING ME TO BE THERE. OH MY GOD.

$10/hour to take fan pictures, at least 6 hours a night, for three nights this weekend, with the opportunity to stay on and do the same for the Avalanche and Nuggets. And I get to park in the Employee Lot, use a Nikon D40, and wear a green t-shirt stating my occupation on it.

Holy shit fuck damn hell cunt motherfucking WOOOOOHOOO! Bragging rights much?

This is the best job ever! Fuck you, idea of working at a hair place again! Fuck you and your mother!

I swear to God, I don't even care about sports but this is such an awesome opportunity! And the guy in charge is extremely bitchin' and went on about how great it is for 11 minutes straight. I fear that I may have been way too reserved on the phone with him, but he knows I'm excited because he said my email application thing was his favorite due to me gushing all over the place in it. zomgzomg.

The best line ever? "We are paying you to take pictures, not to watch the game, or flirt with cute drunk guys, or to take 30 minute breaks like some people in the past have done." YES! THIS IS BRILLIANT, BECAUSE I KNOW NEXT TO NOTHING ABOUT BASEBALL, I CAN'T FLIRT WORTH SHIT, AND I CANNOT STAY IN ONE PLACE FOR MORE THAN FIVE MINUTES WITHOUT GETTING ANTSY!

Be happy for me, even though you don't actually matter because I am happy enough for 12 billion people right now.

I've been having non-shit day after non-shit day for damn near a week now. And it's fucking great.

I had my first ever intervention yesterday. I was feeling pretty shittyawkward the whole time, but it turns out my worries were more or less unfounded and Lily was really glad that I actually cared about her (she's like my baby sister, how could I not?). And we are GOING TO DISNEYLAND with Snuzu come Thanksgiving, with a bit of luck! All last night I had my knickers in a twist just thinking about it. And ever since I spilled my concerns I've been feeling like the queen of the world.

I've been (slightly) talking to a guy who's in econ and photo with me ; I had photo with him last year but we never got acquainted.  I still can't actually recall his name, truth be told. He's like if Ryan, Billy, and Jeff had a wild orgy that spawned a tattooed industrial art child; he's got these bitchin' blue eyes that pop since he's a pretty dark-skinned kid. I want to try and talk to him more cos we're going to the zoo on Halloween for school and it'd be cool to have someone to hang out with there. That way, I wouldn't be the only one skiving off for a smoke every time a lion looked like it was gonna eat me.

Speaking of photo, tonight I took Spud behind Wal Mart to try and do some panning and stuff with him flying across the parking lot on the back of a cart with a Vader mask and a yellow fly swatter. Hilarity ensued, though the pictures are almost surely shit.

I've been talking to kids in my psych class as well; Paige, Jerry, Cara, and some kids I do minigroups with on Fridays. It's nice to laugh at school again. OH AND HOW FUCKING WEIRD: I haven't seen Reilly since last year, largely ignored (and deleted) him on myspace, and then all of a sudden I see him twice in one day. And he initiated the Heeey, how's it going? both times so I couldn't be all Ice Queen in his grill. It was sehr strange. OH AND I SAW THE CROCODILE KID AS WELL. He is like the cutest stoner ever. Shutting up.

I even passed Tuesday's Super Hard History Test With Ridiculously Detailed In-Class Essay. With a 78%, if I'm not sorely mistaken. Considering my last grade in that class was a 56, this is spectacular. I love how I'm bombing my favorite "real" class. Seriously, I do, it's hilarious to me.

I had a bit of a revelation in the shower earlier this evening. I was rinsin' and repeatin', and it struck me how I haven't used decent shampoo since I left Great Clips almost two years ago. AND THEN I HAD AN EPIPHANY: "Hey, Meghan! Why don't you apply for a receptionist job at a hair place again? The hours are fantastic for a high school student, minimum wage is over $7 right now, it's easy work and it's a hell of a lot better than unemployment! AND YOU COULD GO TO DISNEYLAND IF YOU DON'T SPEND ANYTHING TIL NOVEMBER."

I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner. I'm still sort of swamped with schoolwork all the time, but I can handle it. It's 3pm to 8 pm every other weekday, and either 9 hours Saturday or 6 on Sunday. The other girl can take over if I need a weekend off. I can quit as soon as I have time for a higher-paying job. True, I did want A Shitty Teenager Job so I could meet kids that don't suck; malls'll start hiring by the jillions in a month or so, but the hours are extremely shitty as far as I can see (plus I can't stand Christmas blaring from shitty speakers all the time). Plus truth be told, hanging out with 30-year old women is highly entertaining, especially when there are no customers around. And I miss Marcie and Julie and Yolanda and Lisa and Kim like the devil, which I understand is weird of me, but it's nice to have people who can give you adult advice on juvenile problems.

20 new subscribers on youtube the past week! zomg! And there're a few who actually have cool videos and 200+ subscribers themselves, which is bonkers to me. It was sort of like when HayleyGHoover subscribed to me and I got all starstruck. I swear I'll be an internet celebrity by Christmas.

I should really go study.

OH I bought Camel Frosts this morning, and they are tasty. I was in the 18+ line at Wal Mart with three full carts ahead of me, before school (I had no idea people stock up on groceries at 7 in the morning), and even though all I had in my hand was a Red Bull, the lady in front of me was doing her very best to ignore my tiny purchase. I was clicking the can in impatience, and the guy ahead of her sort of beckoned me over and let me go in front of him. And I was like YAY THANKS. And I think that's the act that made my day not suck from the beginning.

1. I have never met anyone called "Earl." I haven't met a Jack or an Olive, either, even though those are the best names ever.

2. I wish I had Grammy's maiden name, which was Blanchet, or that Pop's name (Fitzgerald) didn't die out, or G-Ma's (Layson). Meghan Blanchet. Meghan Fitzgerald. Meghan Layson. Blanchet sounds like Hatchet, Fitzgerald would make me sound quirky and strangely Jew-y (despite being Irish), and Layson's just bitchin'. If I ever get that damn novel started I would take Blanchet as a pseudonym, unless it was a mushy novel (which I don't anticipate), in which case I would go for Layson. Fitzgerald if it's kinky.

3. When Chester the Molester finally croaks, after I've grieved and held an internet funeral with all the bastards lucky enough to know and love him, I will get either a miniature pincher or an English bulldog, and I will name him Ichabod III.*

4. Actually I don't think I would go ever with Fitzgerald.

5. If I got a band started up, we would be called Sitch Bauce.

6. If it was WROCK band, we'd be Voldy and the Stooges.

7. I would marry a boy immediately if his surname was Vortyhaunz, Darko, McNally, Riddle, or Muffin.


Going to Albequerque tomorrow! WOOP WOOP.  Can't stop me now, motherfucker. I'm going to the balloon fest (IN a balloon?) and I gotta do my stop-motion project for photo while I'm there; not sure how it'll work out but it could be interesting. Nearly done with internet school, and then I will be FREE, and then I can concentrate on normal school and not get a D in history (wtf is that? it's my favorite subject, and my worst), and start jobhunting again. Snowboarding this winter, maybe Phoenix spring break, and Disney roadtrip with the gals next summer, it all needs funding. Oh and college too, that would be good to start saving for. And my own car. facepalm. Maybe I'll just join the navy and all my problems will go away. Though to be sure, falling out of a hot-air balloon this weekend would also do the trick. I'll consider my options and get back to you later.

Looooove,
Meghan



*The III comes from Ichabod the Snail and Ichabod II, the Neon Tetra. Ichabod has died and cancer has killed him; Icky II is still alive and kickin'.

I had to leave out an arseload just from the dentist story... but I'm kinda too tired to tell anything else tonight.

( Snuzu makes me look like a BABE. )
I haven't posted in a week... which is sorta odd because last weekend was fuckaliciously mindblowingly bitchinly FUN and AWESOME and GLORIOUS.

Hoorays for:
    - Awe-inspiring graduate work at the Art Institute (and skipping school to go see it and hang out with the grads)
    - Adventures back from the airport
    - RESIDENT EVIL: EXTINCTION in THEATRES on the NIGHT IT CAME OUT. Holy fuckshit, I tell you! I went in expecting nothing, and was
       loling and wincing and squealing with laughter at everyone's untimely demises the whole show! Carlos died very hotly, it must be said.
    - Spud's Asperger's flaring up at Gunther Toody's
    - Finishing up the day's pack out on the bench next to the semi, uncontrollable (painful) laughter ensued
    - Saturday: getting up early, getting out to the Institute and being trapped in a mindless bore for 2 hours.
    - Having paid for a full day's parking ($5/day vs. $4/hour), Snuzu and I waltze around looking for food and a smokeshop for ages, ended
       up sharing a 12" sub and getting Starbucks. Orange Mocha Frappucino = cocopuffs with OJ instead of milk.
    - Getting water and cigs at an underground King Soopers.
    - Sitting on a rock chainsmoking/taking pictures/talking about life in general/watching Denverites walk their dogs.
    -Talking to enormously cute classy lady who owned a boutique downtown, she directed us to Pandora and Buffalo Exchange, where we             spent approximately 3 hours before heading home. I fell down. It was so regal.
    - Taking brother to buy (me) a videogame, unfortunately the Game Crazy kid I have a minor crush on wasn't working and the scene kid             was instead. =[
    - Thomas sprung that he wanted to go to Homecoming about 7 o'clock that night (it started at 8 I think), so we had to get him gussied up         and Snuzu and I packed cameras, lighters, smokes, water, coats, and her cell phone (with mp3 capabilities!) to hang out in the park             next to the school while he danced his ass off inside.
    - We had a mad dance party, talked to the rebellious homecomers who took off for some sex & beer after getting kicked out, and got        
        bored after a few hours so we went to Red Robin for drinks.
    -Sunday I believe we went to Hairspray with my mom, while the brother and his pal Zach (both are Autistic, they're so cute and awkward
        together but they're completely on the same page... it's really fucking wonderful to see them when they're interacting proper) hung out at         Zach's house for a few hours. OH THEN WE WENT TO THE GREAT INDOORS AND LOOKED AT STOVES AND COUNTERTOPS AND         CARPET AND LAMPS FOR A WHILE WHILE SUCKING DOWN STARBUCKS.
         That means I had 2 Starbucks drinks and 2 theatre movies in the weekend. Craziness, I usually do neither.


Whatevs. I can't remember the whole weekend, it was just really normal stuff but we had such a splendid time and it was one of the best weekends of my life. THIS weekend, however, has been a blur of trying to get that goddamn fucking Thermopylae paper I've been not doing since LAST October done, and getting a 50% on an AP history test for the first time ever, and Spud's birthday and seeing ANOTHER movie (Bourne 3, whatever it was, hardly anything is playing around here... they have posters for Shoot 'Em Up at all the theatres, it's been out for a month, and IT ISN'T PLAYING ANYWHERE. Neither is Across the Universe which makes me furious even though I'm not even a Beatles fan, really... can't wait for winter. Sweeney Todd? Elizabeth? Saw IV? Some other Clive Owen movies? I can't even remember the mindblowing epics that are to come because there are so many? Even though Saw isn't mindblowing OR epic?? zomg)

Wow I really need to shut the fuck up and get back to work.
Oh, we got Thomas Brain Age 2 for his b-day, and the first day we were all 80 years old. I am now 45, thank you very much. That goddamn "remember these 25 numbers in the grid" thing is hellish.

Okay. PAPER-WRITING. I have to hurry this the fuck up soon because I have to write a paper for "real" AP English due tomorrow and it's on the Gift of Stones which I finished a week ago and I already deleted it from my brain because of all this other shit I've been reading (Thermopylae: Battle for the West, Persian Fire, Carnage and Culture, not to mention we've just begun the Odyssey in school AND we watched a bunch of movies in the past week so I'm a fuckin' blur of ancient Persia and Greece and colonial America and LA at present [thanks, Crash])


SHUTTING UP. GOODBYE. QUIT WASTING MY LIFE, LIVEJOURNAL, YOU FOOL.

Fuck, I'm excited! They invited me to a portfolio workshop thing on Saturday, and Friday morning-night's just gonna be hanging out with people from the school and drooling over graduate's work and also whatever gentlemen may be there. Friday I get out of school to go in the morning, then come home or do whatever, and go back out for a thing from 5-8 there. THEN I pick up The Lovely Snuzu from the airport (using up the very last of those bene's before December) and we party hard, maybe just try to find something to do in Denver, maybe see Across the Universe and hop into Resident Evil afterwards. Saturday morning Snuzu and I go back to the Institute for the actual workshop, hang around downtown, go get an omelette or something... maybe a tattoo... I'm on the fence on that one, but I'm smart enough not to get a massive Christmas tree that says "I LOVE RANDY" on it in block letters across my boobs so I think it'll be great. I gotta get some fluid for my Zippo as well. And a bank account, that'd be good too, I've had a wad of cash and checks on my stereo since August. I'm just freaking stoked, mang.

Annnd everybody knows, knows, knows!
The highway climbs so high-ii-i
Past the skeleton crows, crows, crows!
Beckoned off a seagull's eye, eye, eyes

And if you try-y-y!
And never look down
You pass the spi-i-ine!
Connecting the gaurds
And if you try-y-y!
And never look back
You pass the fi-i-re!
Gush and splat!

Me and the skeleton row-o-ows
Lay on our backs one nigh-i-ight
Watching these luminus ro-o-oads
Tying knots in the sky-y-y
And we will SING!

Instead of talking about how shitty my day was, and going on and on about how mortified and genuinely surprised I felt when I found my throat constricted and eyes about to explode talking to Branch after class today, and how I was in physical agony from trying so hard to keep tears safely in their ducts, and how the rest of the morning was pretty much downhill after that, and that I must be turning into a teenage girl all of a sudden with all these breakdowns, I will mention how cool and nice my parents are suddenly being.

After I drove home (stopping for a Frosty on the way to try and cheer myself up-- I made Spud pay for it because I'm a glorious bitch like that), I did nothing for a few hours, making a video for Lily showcasing these sweet kicks I told her about a few months ago. Listening to the Briefs' "New Shoes" on loop, punctuated by MEATLOAF and The Church, was soothing to an extent.


The parents come home and they want to take me out to eat. I'm all "No." They're like "Yessss you must. What's wrong?" "I feel like crap." "What happened?" "Nothing. I'm fine." Mom gives me a hug, and then they leave.

They return 2 hours later with a Vanilla Frosty that pretty much had my name on it. And when dad came in to try and talk to me, he noticed the "In Loving Memory - Bret & Brennon - 1988-2006 - 'get 'em, Bois!'" papers on my wall. "Who are they?" Apparently he thought their tragic teenage deaths were the cause of my obvious emotional pain and suffering. He was only about a year and a half too slow on the uptake, so the man deserves some credit.

I suck so bad right now.