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Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Hey, Jealousy

I'm not feeling so hot, and I don't want to take it out on the people around me, so I'm gonna blog about it.

So, do any of you remember when I wrote that post "Never Lasts"? If you don't, go read it right now, and come back here to where you left off.

Anyway, my unfortunate predictions came true. So my friend, who my crush has now gone gaga over, just told me that she likes him. It's inevitable that they're going to start dating. Even before she told me this, I was trying to look elsewhere for nice guys. Just as I thought I just might have gotten over him - life comes back and smacks me in the face. This said friend is returning the favor of love. I'm not green with envy - more like red.

I thought she didn't like him. She never showed any sign of that. I was hoping since she didn't show any interest in him, maybe he would back off and give up the act. No such thing occurred. This literally feels like a punch in the upper stomach, only in slow motion. Very slow motion. Slow, aching, prolonging the suffering, like drowning. Well, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration.

I don't know what wrong with me. I have a lot of great friends - other girls seem to have a really good time around me. But it's just something about the guys. I have maybe 1 guy friend. One. I don't act awkward or anything - I stay perfectly chill and confident. I keep a smile on my face and I sit up straight. I treat them like I would anyone else. Maybe a little flirting if I think they're cute. I just can't seem to understand what it is about other girls that is so terribly attractive that I don't have. Well, that came out sounding conceited, but you get the idea. Then I wondered if I was trying too hard. So I let go a little bit. Zip. Nothing.

I sound desperate - and to a certain degree I am. Probably a high degree. It's just all so frustrating. I'm pretty young, so I don't have much else in my life to think about. I'm really liking that part of adolescence. But I just wish that SOMEONE would frickin' notice me already! I do not live under a rock! I do not hide behing my hair! Obviously I can't be that weird because I'm not one of those girls that everyone avoids and ignores. I'm outgoing and friendly. I hate bragging, but I'm not an ugly person. I don't overload makeup or dress weird or act all fake, like play stupid and put up an act. I am an independent person, but not in the way that I have no friends. I have plenty. And I guess I really should appreciate them more and hold them closer, because when all is said and done those are the people that really matter. Besides, do I see all of them strutting around with a guy by their side. Uh, some. But not all. And that's OK. It's OK for me to be like that too. Besides, relationships at this age have a maximum span of a few weeks.

Well, I feel better already. I promise the next post won't be so self-centered. Anyways, life goes on. And yes, I did use the Gin Blossoms' song as a title on purpose.
~sleepinl8

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

My Music Remixes

So what I wanted to make my sis for Valentine's day was a couple funky beats to jam to. I went on this free music mixing site, soundation.com, and put together a few tunes. Here they are! By the way, if the second one sounds kind of jumpy and not well blended, there's nothing wrong with your computer. I just did it kind of free-form and didn't really bother to make the tracks match too well. Enjoy and dance!




Monday, February 14, 2011

And the next child prodigy is...

I was dumbstruck. This will knock your socks off - wait, let me rephrase that - more like both of your entire feet off. Just watch it NOW. I command you: watch, sesame!
What did I tell ya? I'm not gonna say I told you so, but... Mmmhhm.
~sleepinl8

No saving face now!

So, as a regular valentine's tradition that my sis and I made up randomly a couple years ago, we each make a homemade gift for each person in the family. Sounds corny and cliche, right? Well, anyway, I decided to make my mom a soap. Sounds innocent enough. Well, I go to Walgreens to get some glycerin, because online it said that was one of the main ingredients. I have no idea what it is or looks like, so I start asking around. "Excuse me? Do you happen to sell glycerin anywhere?" I asked. Little did I know that I had just used the completely wrong tone of voice for what they thought I was asking for. I asked 4 employees, who all gave me funny looks. I thought the looks were just because it was kind of an uncommon thing to ask for. Nope. Wrong again.

So, I'm walking through the store to aisle 7. I look up at the aisle 7 sign, and it reads: LAXATIVES. I think "What the heck? That definitely ain't what I'm looking for. Might as well look anyway." I skip over the laxatives section and look further down the aisle. Zilch. Then my friend's mom caws out a huge cackling laugh, and says "Come here! I found your GLYCERIN! HAHA!". Of course, she's standing right smack in the middle of the laxatives section. Sure enough, there it is, on the bottom shelf: GLYCERIN SUPPOSITORIES. Mind you, at the time I had no idea what a suppository was. I only understood half of why she was laughing so hard. I just smack myself in the forehead, smile, and look down. Just my luck.

So then we're in the car. I open the little bottle of glycerin suppositories. Well, I guess I learned a lot that day, because I immediately knew what a suppository was by the shape of them. A random cry of disgust, belonging to me, comes from the left bucket seat. And, ya get the point.

And all I wanted to do was make soap!
~sleepinl8

Saturday, February 12, 2011

That's me Girl!

I would like to take this moment to have a little tribute to my sister.
No no, don't worry, she's not dead or anything like that. I just want to let everyone know how good she is to me, and how she has stayed so vigilantly by my side through each and every time I hurt, ignored, discouraged, blew off, belittled, and acted like I was better than her. She is such a resilient kid, really. Throughout all the times she had to put up with me either screaming at her for no good reason, me screaming with my parents relentlessly, or me just having a breakdown about food or my weight or whatever, she continues to be her annoying, cute little doofus self, without living in fear, to this day. What bravery. So all the firefighters get awarded for this kind of stuff, but innocent children caught in the midst of a family problem that they otherwise had nothing to do with, yet it begins to control their life whether they asked for it or not - zilch. You would think by now, based on all the things my parents and I nave discussed in front of her, that she, looking up to me oh-so-very-much, would have taken after me and probably ruined he own life from a bad influence like me. But, lo and behold, she stands strong as the happy, confident, I'm-my-own-best-cheerleader girl she has always been. Yeah, she's a procrastinator. Yeah, she talks through all the good parts of movies. And can she get through one dinner at home without getting up to pet the dog, fool around at the kitchen counter, or other stalling activities? Probably not, that would be a first. But all those things amount to a mere lap around the duck pond compared to the majority of the world's population. So, to hell with her faults. Everyone's got 'em, no doubt. The amazing thing is, she is able to rise above others' faults, and there is always a free trial left for them in her heart, if they care for another chance. She'll be waiting, patiently as ever, with her wide open heart. I'm almost positive that when the doctor puts the stethoscope up to her chest to hear her heartbeat, he hears giggling and laughter in there, and smiles to himself. So, after all these years, I thank "Pickles" (identity protection) for staying loyally by my side. In a short time it will have been a decade already. I promise to do the same for you always in the end, when all is said and done. Under one condition: stay out of my closet. XD
~sleepinl8

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Dreams

I just had a flashback.
I am remembering this very strange dream I had when I was 10. The dream had a title, I recall, as if it were a book I was reading while sleeping, yet not just reading - acting it. Playing the main character, but not knowing the plot. I was, indeed, merely a meandering character. The title was: The Prosperor's Law.

Makes barely any sense now, but you'll see. The words in the title take on a whole new meaning. In a way much like this: institute, as in the noun, and then institute, as in the verb. I remember the first thing that happened was something, an unknown something, came through my mattress and kicked me out of my bed. I tried to forget about it, and move on. I did just that, went to school the next day, came home. I decided to pop in one of my CD's, so I did. Only, when I turn the CD player on, it's silent, even though the volume is on and up. Instead, I hear a faint murmur of voices, perhaps a council meeting, in the corner of my mind. No, not by ear at all. By pure mental messaging. Yet I could still hear it; think of it like this: you know when your reading and saying the words to yourself in your head? That's what I'm talking about.

And so the murmurs and mumbles continue. I start to get really freaked out. "What the hell is going on?" I thought to myself. It was frustrating, since the voices seemed to haunt me unintentionally. OK, now read this carefully so as not to get confused: I had a flashback, in the dream, about a dream I had in the past while sleeping in real life. That's OK if you don't get it, that's not an important part of the plot here. If there is a plot, even. Anyway, that dream was about my parents telling me that I was part of a special order, and it was inherited through my father's lineage, yet somehow it was only passed to me; not him, nor his father, his grandfather, or his great-grandfather.

Over the course of a few days, I gradually accept the voices in my head. Just as I was wondering if I had schizophrenia, one of the voices poked through their imaginary equator between  mumbles and clear speaking. I could hear her clearly now. She wasn't speaking to me, rather the other 'council' members in my head. They became comprehensible as well. Now I was really pissed (more frightened than pissed, actually). Why me? I had lost sleep for days. I screamed bloody murder into my pillow. Then, all of a sudden, one of these people began speaking to me. I shot up straight and sat perfectly still, with those deer-in-the-headlights eyes. An elderly-sounding woman spoke, with a raspy voice and a bright french accent. She didn't say anything I was expecting, like "I apologize for our disrespect" or "I'm terribly sorry we have disturbed you so, but we would like to...." No, none of that. She came straight out and said, "Hello. I am Mother Brigette. Your brain has been our host to our meetings. We are nomads. A strange kind, but I'll explain that later. Thank you for your generosity and hospitality."
No problem, feel free anytime. Bitch.
"We have chosen you to host us for a reason, and that reason is you are soon to join us in our lifelong journey to enhance others lives, making them our beneficiaries."
Well, shit, I seriously hope what you've done to me isn't part of your "beneficiary" service.
"Little miss, would you please stop cursing at me? I find it offensive."
You have got to be kidding me. She can hear my thoughts?
"Yes, in fact I can. Makes sense if you think about it. You hear, in your mind, what we say out loud. We hear, out loud, what you think in your mind. It's like opposite reciprocals of communication."
"Indeed," blurted a deep, almost dog-like french voice. "Oh, and in case Brigette forgets to mention it (she is a bit old, after all), I would like to inform you that our establishment's name is 'The Prosperor's Law'".
"Uh. thank you, Jacques. Anyway, there are seven of us: Jacques, Rachelle, Jean, Camille, Antoine, Francois, and I. Meet us in your parents bedroom later tonight."
I go to my parents' bedroom. Turns out they are wide awake with the lights on. I remembered my flashback of my dream in real life. I told them about it, and they just nodded. "It's about that time now," said Dad, "as the prophecy claims."
Doing as I was told, I (accidentally, actually) met with The Prosperor's Law later that night, in my parents' bedroom. They remained fast asleep. A cloudy, misty bubble appeared in front of me. Mother Brigette appeared right before my eyes, in a drab, musty-brown cloak that looked like in had been left in a vacuum cleaner bag, and a headress of the same appearance. I couldn't make out the other six figures, except, when Rachelle stepped forward, I could see her clearly. Suddenly, or no apparent reason, I knew that she was Rachelle. I also knew that she was 20 years old, good at archery, and dreamed of becoming a marine biologist. She always wore a flashy, wide grin on her face. I did not know how I found these things out. Without me having to say a word, Mother Brigette said in a steady voice "That is part of your gift."
And then I woke up.
~sleepinl8

Friday, February 4, 2011

Polamalu whips his hair

 I WHIP MY HAIR BACK AND FORTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WAIT! ME TOO!!!!!!!!!!!
A lil' bit of randomness to brighten up anyone's evening. Or more like night, rather. Or whenever the hell you read this. And by the way, I shall in no way be affiliated with the liking of that song, so no stupid comments about that, please ;).
~sleepinl8

10th Follower! Finally!

Really, all you need to know about this post is in the title. I just thought it would be weird to leave a plain ol' title with no deets. So, I would like to announce, that after much hard work on becoming more blog savvy, I have achieved a double digit number of followers! Yes! Obvi, I am not stopping here. Anyone else wanna follow? That's all for this hour. Maybe more later.
~sleepinl8

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Imagery

Sometimes I beam inwardly at my own resourcefulness.
So, I got out of the car, drink in one hand, 2 textbooks and a folder in my other arm, pen in my mouth, and backpack on my back, trying to open and close house and car doors. I did it mostly with my elbows. I got inside and heaved a sigh of pride. Silly, yes, but who gives a damn?

Here's some writing for anyone who wants a decent little story with imagery:
    Yawning and stretching, I open a sleepy eye and look out my window with the bright morning sunshine trickling in. I stumble lazily out of my bed, looking back reluctantly at the warm, soft comforter that had cradled me for at least 10 hours. I tell myself to suck it up, and lumber downstairs to get some grub.
    That's when I notice my hiking boots laying on the hardwood floor. They were my dad's when he was young. He keeps them around, because it's a symbol of his glory and pride in climbing to the snow-capped top of Mt. Olympus. Unfortunately, his Sasquatch feet had gone from a foot long to 14 inches in his twenties. So for now, I claim them.
    I get myself thinking. I hear the monotone drone of some chief meteorologist rambling in the background. This usually white noise to me. But this time, I decide to actually lend an ear. "Better take advantage of this day, because this very Saturday happens to be the 24 hour period of perfect weather throughout this estimated 3-week storm", says tall, beefy weatherman. And a metaphorical light bulb pops on above my head. Chugging down a last drop of my very own famous OJ, I yank on the daddy boots, slip on some junky clothes, and head out the door. I'm goin' climbin'.
    A mere 1/2 mile out the door, I realize how long it's been since I've done something like this. I am just now realizing how strange my life seems looking from the outside in. Now on the outside, I have confused myself. I think about how unnatural the bulk of 'go, go, go' in the average human's life has become. I was in the bubble. For the weekend, the bubble was popped and I am free to do as I please. A feeling of belonging yet not simultaneously has washed over me.
    Now I hit a slope. Something lays on the dirt ground (or mostly under it, rather) looking threadbare and fringed from age and decay. I dig until chunks of dirt have been removed to make the object clearly visible. Oh my God! I can not believe that this hasn't rotted away yet! My parents hinged this climbing rope into the ground when I was 6, and no one has used it since! Do I dare try using it to ascend the slope? It's true that I am very much lacking in common sense, but I have enough to avoid taking those risks. I stare up at the cloudless sky, and give a nostalgic smile to the heavens. Thanks, Dad. Keep watching me.
    So, I continue wandering aimlessly through clearing and dense forest, beside lakes and rivers, and make a quick stop inside a dank and dreary bat cave. Hoisting myself up and brushing off my butt, I walk into the wind and toward a valley. Soon, I get close enough to distinguish it's smaller features. I come closer, and I realize that this is mother nature's weird replica of a scene from Bambi. What the - bunnies everywhere! And a doe doting upon her fawn. The grass seems to be tie-dye green, with a water hole crystal clear smack dab in the middle. And bluebirds singing? Really? Wow. I wonder, how stupid would it feel to skip through the valley like a little princess, picking flowers and singing hopscotch songs. I try it, since I'm alone. After 5 seconds, I give a hearty belly laugh at myself and tumble over in the grass, sending a family of bunnies pathetically scuttling away. On my back. Feel the breeze tousle my golden locks. Heave in a deep breathe of crisp, clean air. Get a whiff of aging pine needles from my left. An enormous, mahogany live oak takes a bow over my limp and relaxed body. The sun filters through it's leaves, speckling my skin with light. My eyes close, but the remnants of serenity and pristine pureness float around on my mind peacefully.
     I am having difficulty discriminating reality from dreams. If this is a dream, don't wake me up. If this is reality, don't ever let me sleep.
~sleepinl8

Monday, January 31, 2011

Don't Ask. Really.

Potential. Quite a boring word for all the things it can mean. Everything possesses it in one way or another. Except for my stupid dog.

Freak.
Do you think I should have put black bars over her eyes to protect her identity?
Nah. They'd just blend in.
That's it for now.
~sleepinl8

Friday, January 28, 2011

Fresh Tunes

I have some songs that I would like to share with the world (or at least my followers). Here are the links.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_5S_smnPGY  about this link: I am not a fan of sheryl crow, but I happen to really like this one by her. This is Detours.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKrndtqKtWE About this link: Taylor swift fans: ahem, teenagelife:) and and **im a secret**, will like this. Except it's a male singer. I was getting a little sick of her, so I took this as a nice change. This is Into Your Arms by The Maine.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1DutbuLVc8 About this link: This is a more electronic song. It is Hide and Seek by Love is a Story. I found it strange and intriguing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vMoAz7j4k1w About this link: This is really funny. You don't even have to listen closely to know. This is Santa Stole My Girlfriend by The Maine.

That's all for now I gotta go!
~sleepinl8

Yeah, dude!

You have GOT to watch this! Not only is this kid adorable but.... dayum! He's good! And he seems to really be enjoying himself too. Watch and you'll see him smile, but then he gets back down to business, and you can see him think, OK, I'm goin' back to cool mode now. Drummers don't smile.

Enjoy! ;)

Never Lasts

Sigh. I get my hopes up over the littlest things. I need a serious reality check. But today I just couldn't help but notice and dwell on the fact that he seemed to have taken more interest in me. By Monday it will go back to the way it was. No more so-called "special treatment". That's exaggeration, big time. But I'm sure that most everyone knows what it's like to feel careless and dreamy after you've been given attention from the person you like. Call me immature, yes, I am still young. Obvi.

Now this is going to sound extremely stupid, but I have a bunch of little "signs" that keep me hoping. First of all his name is in my last name. Second, and this happened just tonight, I was watching the movie version of "The Pillars of the Earth", and apparently the true lover of the lead female has the same name as my crush! Teehee! Ugh. I'm so weird.

I might post something else today. Maybe not. But I like to keep topics separated into different posts. Bye for now.
~sleepinl8

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Wasting My Time

I'm frustrated at myself
For not marching to my own tune.
I should have listened to my conscience.
I should have known I'd get there soon.

Who did I think I was kidding?
When I said I'd make it to the top.
I should've known the ladder was upside-down
'Cause my climbing came to a stop.

What exactly did I want to get out of this
After all was said and done?
Would this help me now or later
Today or in the long run?

Deep down I had all I needed.
What I wanted was so much more.
Now I know I'll look back and say
"What the hell did I do that for?'

A common saying: "I feel young again!"
Always used in a chipper tone.
I think that's misuse of the term.
Because "young" can feel so alone.

I really shouldn't be so dramatic.
I have friends, family, and a home.
Good money, food, and water,
And plenty of space to roam.

Now I know it's so much easier
In my situation, you see,
To just stop trying not to try
And to let it go completely.

I remember several months ago,
When I thought he had caught the bait,
Winter break came and went -
Forget it. I had to wait.

Well, I guess I've learned my lesson
about giving myself advice.
Next time I'll take it from others
And even still, I'll think twice.

~sleepinl8

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Longest Word in the English Language

Hey, I'm back again. About 10 minutes later. It's a Sunday evening and I'm bored, cut me some slack. Here's some random trivia for you; in case you haven't already heard of it, here is the longest word in the English language (uh, hence the title, duurrrr):
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis
Apparently it's some lung disease that comes from inhaling fine particles of silica dust, causing inflammation. Mmmm. Appetizing.
Notice the smaller words you can find in this 45 letter long word. To name a few: microscopic, silica, and...umm...volcano? ;:-/
Stay tuned,
~sleepinl8

Ya know what? Bees are alright!

I had another picture taking compulsion. I have been waiting for a chance to get a perfect shot of this budding, pollen-profuse maple tree for a week or so now. There just always seemed to be some stupid little obstacle - camera lost, battery dead, rainy day (or just plain cloudy), too busy, etc. You get the point. But (gasp) here they are! There is another really cool photo I would like to post right now, but I'm afraid one of the above excuses (dead battery) has prevented me from doing so. 'Till next time.






Mediocre



I found a snake in my yard today. I debated with myself whether to provoke it or not, and I thought, yyyeeaaaahhhhh, I should ;^). So here's me annoying this weird little snake on a Saturday morning. I'm not sure what kind it is. The dog found it (who else?). At one point I think it licked me.Yeah, don't ask.


All i did today was clean. Terribly exciting. But by making a story out of my day, I will try to reverse the sarcasm in that last sentence.

Procrastination. Crawling my way through less-than-desirable tasks like a snail. Quite a talent of mine. I hunched over and fondled the Swiffer duster, until my fingers lethargically coiled around it, and I 'hauled' it up the staircase. Entering my room, I see my dog curled up in a ball, strongly resembling the shape of a mini powdered doughnut. She gave me her stupid little doggie smirk that said "ah, what a wonderful day to be a dog. Poor sucker humans, haha." I barely brushed over the surface of my dresser, yet it still seemed to get a good amount of dust off. Wow, the commercials were right all along! I gazed at a picture of my best friend and I, several years ago, in South Carolina. I had just gone up to visit her and another close friend this month. I got myself thinking, "what happened? She seems so weird around me now. She never answers my calls or texts. I couldn't have done anything, because I was never clingy, annoying, or offensive. I am at a loss here." My eyes floated to another picture. "I remember when my brother's hair was that short," I recalled. "I wonder if he would compromise to cut it to that length from his current length past his butt, because I know he would never go any further than to his chin."

I began unpacking a bag I brought to school with speech props. One of the Krispy Kreme coffee mugs was broken at the handle. Sighing, I trudged downstairs to retrieve the crazy glue. It's really the only thing that works on most things. I ended up gluing my fingers together in the process - a predictable accident. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to have that happen? Kids, don't try this at home. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

I have decided to stop there because 1) I don't remember most of the rest of that day, and 2) even if I did, I'm not in the right mindset currently to be able to turn it into something that wouldn't have you snoozing shortly later. Plus I am really mad at Picasa Web Albums, Google Help, Blogspot, and all the blog doctor websites because they contain NOTHING helpful on how to get the video insert feature (the one available when you are editing your post) to work. Grr.
~sleepinl8

Friday, January 21, 2011

A life of tree-hugging

I am at a loss for other topics I feel passionately about, so for today I have decided to delve this post into the deep, complicated, controversial (and also quite polluted) waters of global warming and our planet. Oh, there it goes - i just heard someone smack there forehead and groan. But I want to be our home's advocate here, and i am going to make my points.

First of all - when it all comes down to it, do we really have a choice? Really think about this - no matter how far advanced in technology the human race becomes, eventually, no matter how long the world decides to procrastinate, we will be, for lack of better word, screwed. I don't want to sound all hippie-like, or be one of those people who's paranoid about everything from the sky falling to someone trying to possess their mind. Or the voodoo beliefs. Anyway, we can stay in space or some other godforsaken universal frontier for decades, possibly even centuries, if we get that far along in technology before our damage to the Earth catches up on us. And then, when all is said and done, we will have run out. Of countless things, don't ask me what. Well, anyway, the real point of this paragraph, before I got carried away in my own tangent, was supposed to be that Earth is, plain and simple, home.

Now, hypothetical situation: Suppose we had everything available for eternity to keep our species alive, and we just evolved to compensate, and everyone and everything was perfectly fine. Except one thing: no Earth. Does the idea of that not just make you frickin' sad?  Nothing natural. No more wonders of God's creation - only man made. No fresh air, no oceans, rivers or lakes, no trees, no animals (even if they are a big fat pain in the ass), no seasons, no snow, no sunshine filtering through the big shady vegetation, no wildflowers, no deer in the headlights, no blue jay bird's nest in your backyard for your kids to ogle over, no gardening, no spectacular thunderstorms when your little daughter snuggles into your bed away from the thunder.......... Sigh. I could go on and on and on.

So, exactly how bad do the circumstances have to get before we finally get it through our heads that we have to make a change? I'm not going to waste time with a list of stuff you can do to go green - you can find that anywhere. The purpose of today's post was to give my take on the subject, and I am hoping that this isn't something you have heard countless times before.

Thanks for reading!
~sleepinl8

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Random Question

I have a quick question to ask, because it has been burning in the back of my mind for a couple of months now: Why are nail salons always worked by Asians? Mind you, I am not trying to be racist in any way. Racism is crap. But I was getting curious, and Google is not doing its job for me. And this doesn't seem to be a, um, stereotypical stereotype. Most are just pretty true, but not always. This is recurring, and I have never come across an exception. Can someone help me with my stupid question? Wait, I forgot, there is this quote that I live by:
"There are no stupid questions, only stupid people."
~Anonymous
Anyway, this may or may not be all I post for today. Stay tuned!
~sleepinl8