Un-Rawr

I would say, "I love it when everything works out," but not everything worked out. I'm hiding stuff from Jenelle and Claire now because I need to talk to Claire and Mike and...I just need to work out all that stuff, really, but as for where I stand with Mike, I think everything is worked out. We're on the same page.

I've never had a conversation with a guy about how much I'd like to do Helena Bonham-Carter and Brad Pitt...and have him agree with me whole-heartedly. Haha. And when he saw that the background of my phone said "In Your Pants" and "DFTBA," he was honestly interested and thought it was really cool once I'd explained it all to him. And he's a writer. He likes the social movement things, but also the slightly disturbing fantasy stuff. I, of course, recommended the Black Jewels Trilogy to him. And when I told him my parents were very right wing and that I was more in the middle, he just kissed me and said, "Rebellion is hot."

Going back to the writer part, though, it made me really happy. He completely understands the way books can influence your mood and how reading something really great can make you want to write for sixteen hours straight, just to try and match the greatness you just consumed. He also encouraged me to enter a competition and to send him some of my stuff because he's a grammar Nazi (just like me) and he'd love to help me out.

It all made me wish that guys closer to my age were that awesome.

Oh well. I'm moving out in November, and if we happen to decide that we do want more than sex and friendship, I'll just have to break it to my parents that he happens to be 27. I broke it to my mom yesterday that I wanted to get my nose pierced and she flipped a minor shit, but didn't tell me I couldn't get it done, so...

But that was a piercing. Not a guy. She was okay with Matt because she'd known him since he was 17/18. Unfortunately, after what he put me through, she might have an issue with me dating a guy that much older than me. I'll have to point out that he's more mature than guys my age and that Lauren Fairweather's dating a guy nearly 10 years older than her. So, really...

Hahahaha, I hope to God I never have to have this conversation with my parents. XD

Rawr Rawr Rawr

The inner workings of human to human chemistry are beyond me, but at the moment, I'm really pissed about them.

So, I lose a guy and a best friend. I cry about it, I bitch about it, I blog about it. I'm over it. Almost. Now I need to rebound from it. Lo and behold, a new guy is provided by the fates. And that guy happens to like me. And I happen to like him. And we happen to have a shit ton of chemistry. Oh, and he's seeking a rebound as well.

It would be perfect if Claire hadn't called him. If I didn't have to incorporate Claire's feelings into this mess, my life would be simple. But no. The nervous butterflies and the pins of guilt are warring in my stomach right now. What do I say to him when I see him? Do I tell him that he's a guilty pleasure? Do I tell him I broke a promise to be with him?

The real question is, if I legitimately like him, is he even a rebound?

And, of course, in the middle of it all is a best friend who can't understand why I would break a promise in the first place. Because I don't. Ask anyone. I'm unreliable when it comes to due dates and birthday presents, but I'm anything but selfish.

And I did something completely selfish.

They can't comprehend it. "You mean, Karaline's a real human being? Gasp!"

Yes, my friends. I am more than a robot. I can be a bitch and I can be self-centered and I can blow off friends for a boy.

The fact of the matter is, this is a rare occurrence. When I'm a bitch, you probably deserve it. When I'm self-centered, I'm probably bluffing. When there's a boy I like, I bring him into my group of friends, and if he isn't scared off after that, he's probably a keeper.

I legitimately like Mike. I could say I don't care what happens if I pursue a relationship with him, but I can't. I do care. I don't care if Claire bitches about me or doesn't want to speak to me again. So long as she bitches TO me and not about me to someone else. That's what started my anger and, therefore, this blog. I don't give a shit what Claire does so long as she's open about it to me. What I care about is Jenelle. She doesn't know what to think or which side to be on. As far as she knows, I'm just a whore who breaks promises. It hurts to know that a best friend would automatically believe that assumption, but...that's life, I guess.

I hate to cut this short, but I need to leave in a few minutes to go look at an apartment with Jenelle. Hopefully, we'll be able to talk it all over. And maybe when I meet up with Mike afterward, I won't feel so guilty about feeling like this about him.

I'm a big fan of adjectives. Life would be so boring without adjectives. So, when I went searching for the perfect word to describe every single thought and emotion going through me, I easily found the perfect fit.

Disillusioned: a freeing or a being freed from illusion or conviction; disenchantment.

I'm nineteen and disillusioned with life.

What all has led to this conclusion? Well, just a few realizations I've made over the past twelve hours:

Real friends are much harder to find than you might think, and you never know when they'll stab you in the back.
Sometimes, there really isn't a way when there's a will. Sometimes, you're really just fucked if you don't have the money.
People make mistakes all the time, and can only be forgiven if they feel bad enough about them.
The truth really does set you free, but with a heavy price.
No boy is worth crying over. They're only here to help populate the earth.
Sometimes there isn't a song to describe it, not matter how hard you look.
Real friends will always tell you the truth, even if it hurts both of you.
Real friends will also not condemn the truth-telling friend. Always value honesty.
There really isn't enough coffee in the world to fix it.
The only worthwhile ones are gay. Sorry.
Being where you belong is lot easier said than done.
Escaping is always futile. You can't outrun yourself no matter how hard you try.
You should never regret loving someone, but that doesn't mean you can't want to castrate him.
It really is impossible to love someone before your mid-twenties.
It's not worth the fight if the one you're fighting for also happens to be the one you're fighting.
Sometimes life sucks. Life doesn't care, so you might as well get over it.
No, alcohol won't help. It just makes you stupid and pays you back in the morning.
Big future plans usually get fucked over right before you can really do anything to put them in motion. Might as well just live for the moment and fuck planning.
Being an opportunist has its perks, and it's totally worth it for a while. And then you have to find a different opportunity to waste your time on.
Nerdfighters really are the greatest people on earth. It's just too bad I really don't get to hang out with them irl.

Disillusioned. I'm not happy about it. In fact, I'm angry about it. Furious. So mad that I can't cry or talk or do anything but rhyme on a piece of paper. There's no way to express it all except on paper.

I really do love adjectives, if only because I love the power of the written word. Writing has always been my escape. It helps a little. I'm slowly leaking everything out so that I can start again. I won't ever be enchanted by the world again, though. That's been ruined for me. But I can pretend and I can escape for short periods of time.

All I need in this life is a pencil and some paper.

December 1, 2009

I'll get straight to the point.

My mom was offered a job in Seattle. If she can get them to up her salary to $80,000, she's going to take it.

I'm not sure where that leaves me. I mean, obviously, I'd stay here and go to Grossmont for the full year. But I don't know where I'll be living or if I'll stay after this year. But that's okay because I'm fully determined to go back to Etown after this year. I have this strange feeling that there are better opportunities out there for me.

That said, I'm giving up. I'm tired of everything the way it is now and I've wasted too much time. So, it's over. If I'm acting strange, that's why. It's because I'm done. It's because I can't possibly do this any longer.

For the occasion, I wrote a song that I'm not going to post here because it's useless anyway. Why bother trying anymore, right? I'm clearly just not worth it. Never have been.

Day Twenty-Four: On Goodbyes

What does it mean to be ‘bad at goodbyes’? I mean, that could go so many ways. Some people might cry whenever they say goodbye, or some get depressed, or some get really clingy. But I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who does what I do. At least, I’ve never discussed it with anyone I know.

I rarely get distressed when it comes to saying goodbye. I’ve always thought of it as a temporary thing, so why get upset? I know when I say goodbye, I’m going to be able to say hello again at some point in the future. Call me an optimist or a religious zealot, but it’s just how I think about it. For example, when I first left for Pennsylvania, the only person I cried over was Teresa. When I left Etown to come home, the only person I cried over was Stepf. I didn’t even cry when I said goodbye to the girl I’d been living with the entire year—the girl I’d immediately become attached to and called family.

Does this make me bad at goodbyes?

I don’t think so. I think I have much better things to waste my tears on and more than one reason to be happy. Why cry over a temporary absence?

You’re probably wondering where this is coming from. No, I didn’t just randomly sit down and start thinking about this today. It was a couple days ago that I really looked at this issue with any real concern. But I felt like I needed to write it all down because now I’m dealing with more than just a temporary goodbye.

My great Uncle Larry died last night. To be honest, I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again. It’s not like I was really close with him, but he did add so much laughter and happiness to family gatherings that I can’t help but be…bothered by this. But I didn’t cry. It didn’t even really hit me until just now. He’s gone. And I still can’t cry. I’m not terribly sad. I’m still able to laugh about the characters I’m reading about, and I’m still feeling normal and relaxed.

Maybe I really just started thinking about this when my mom asked me what was wrong with me.

Is there something wrong with me? Am I the real definition of ‘bad at goodbyes’?

Day Sixteen: Harry Potter

Two words: Harry Potter.

Saw it at midnight with Jenelle, Claire, Brandy, and some chick whose name I still can’t remember. It was amazing. There are three scenes that are absolutely hysterical and so well acted that my entire impression of the movie was based solely on them. And then the romance between Harry and Ginny…my God, it was fantastic. It almost felt like their chemistry was so heated that it was improper to watch. Like it was one of those things couples do that just shouldn’t be in public. Something sweetly private. Not raunchy private. Just sweet. And kinda funny.
Remember kids: wear protection when tying shoelaces.

Anyway, the romance stuck with the book perfectly. Before the sixth book, all the romantic urges Harry has are kind of shadowed by the ‘OMGVoldemortisbackOMG’ factor. In the sixth one, though, the ‘monster’ inside Harry is mentioned frequently, and his notice of Ginny much more pronounced. The movie did an excellent job of bringing that out. Every so often, there are little scenes between Harry and Ginny that weren’t in the book but are totally perfect, so it doesn’t even matter if they were written beforehand or not.

Going back to the good acting part, I really think being on Broadway and on stage in London helped Dan Radcliffe. He kept to Harry’s character and delivered his lines sooo much better. Especially in the love potion scene and the Felix Felicis scene. They were played out exactly as I had imagined them—only better. And Rupert Grint in the love potion scene was amazing. He’s always been a talented actor and I think going out for other movies really helped him improve, too. Driving Lessons is one of my favorite movies because of him. And now he’s in Cherry Bombs, which I really want to see. As for Emma Watson, she finally learned how to control her overactive eyebrow syndrome. It’s much more enjoyable watching her now. She really is very pretty and talented. And her interaction with Rupert was awesome. They fully captured the awkwardness and the sweetness of Ron and Hermione’s relationship.

Bonnie Wright. Oh my God. I love her. I’ve always loved her. I’ve always thought she was gorgeous and perfect for Ginny. No one else believed me until they saw this movie. The first thing Claire said when she came on screen was, “Oh, she’s pretty now.” WRONG. She’s always been pretty, they just put make up on her to make her look young and ordinary. She was supposed to blossom in the sixth book. Rowling even emphasized how much she had changed in her looks by making the Slytherins mention her beauty. So, yeah. As usual, I was right. Hah.

Now for my favorite: Tom Felton. That kid is so awesome. He might not be as cute as he used to be (circa movies one and two), but he’s not ugly. And when he was in the bathroom crying, it was perfect. And the scene on top of the north tower. The way he looked sick and exhausted and desperate—perfect.

They all just really stepped up their game in this movie and it shows. I’ve seen it twice now and it’s still just as amazing. Hopefully, I’ll be seeing it again next weekend. :) Oh, Harry Potter. I love this stuff. Really, really love it.

Day Four: On Friendship

I need to actually start posting these things, but I was so fed up with YouTube last night, that I failed in doing this.

Anyway, the topic of discussion today is friendship. I wrote two letters yesterday, one to Teresa and one to Coco. Long story short, the themes of the two letters were wildly different. But they made me think. I just started writing down all my thoughts of what I would like to say, and then more thoughts kind of came to me as I writing the first ones down, and by the time I was finished writing these letters, I was completely emotionally drained. It was really intense.

I talked to Matt last night after I got to thinking about all of it again, and I was crying and trying to figure out what to do, and he made everything better. I feel like I should write him a letter, too.

I’m not going to go into specifics because I don’t want to make this issue public, even if only a couple people actually read this. But I’ll put the general…idea out there. Teresa and I are having some problems. And maybe it’s my overactive imagination at work here, and maybe I’m blowing things out of proportion, but I am genuinely hurt by what’s going on. I’m not sure if it’s her issue or if it’s my issue, but I want to do something about it. That’s what talking to Matt did. It made me motivated enough to grow some balls and actually do something. We’re going to talk on Saturday and, hopefully, work out all our issues. Or possibly create newer, bigger ones. Either way, I know for a fact that I’m not just going to disappear from her life, no matter what stupid thing she does or whatever bitchy things I do, because she’s been a big part of my life for the last two years. Inconsistent, but still a part of it. I can’t fault her for that because I do the same thing. Out of sight, out of mind. But when I come back, everyone I’ve forgotten is still here waiting for me like nothing happened. That means everything to me. I hope it means just as much to Teresa.

My sophomore or junior year of high school, I got a list of quotes on friendship to use for some project or essay. I wish I still had those quotes, because they were beautiful. But I remember one because I wrote a blog about it the night I got the quotes: “A true friend doesn’t jump off the edge of a cliff with you; they wait at the bottom to catch you when you fall.”

I live by that quote. I always want to be waiting at the bottom. I always want someone waiting for me at the bottom. I don’t know how well I’m doing in this endeavor, but I know how many amazing people I have catching me when I fall, and that’s what helps me wake up every morning.

So, yeah. Friendship.

Thanks. It means a lot more to me than I ever say out loud. :)