The Cost of Living

The drive from Dothan, Alabama to Fairshire, Rhode Island was the longest of my life. My parents sat in the front while I was stretched out in the back, routinely eating Poptarts from the box on my chest.

The Cost of Living 0.0

In the new plot, once he graduates, Victor's parents inform him that they aren't going to provide for him anymore, so he moves in with his grandmother on the northwestern coast and takes a job on a fishing boat. It goes pretty alright for a while; he becomes friends with some of his shipmates, and although his life isn't really the most amazing he's getting along. Every year around September, though, a violent storm rips through this region of New England; the crew typically tries not to be far out to sea during this time, but this year in particular they have no choice (I haven't found a reason why for this yet). Inevitably, the ship is destroyed in the storm. Victor, by sheer luck, is still clinging to life by the time the sun rises; most of his crewmates are dead or barely alive. He thinks he's saved when an unfamiliar ship makes its way toward the wreckage, but when he's pulled on board, he can see through the ship's crew. The ship itself - The Grapevine Darling - is a soul ferry, which exists to turn the souls of seamen over to the other side. While his surviving crewmates have died from their wounds, his weren't severe enough to cost his life - leaving them with a problem. He can't move on to the other side while he's alive, but he can't return to the 'real world.' So he swears himself as a ferryman, because he has no other choice. The other soul ferrymen are the undead, basically ghosts; they're seamen who sold their souls years prior. Similarly, Sandrine also sold her soul, but she isn't a ferryman; she's an intercepter, meaning that after the ferries collect the souls she guides them over to the other side..

Someday you will be loved.

You'll be loved, you'll be loved.
Like you never have known.
The memories of me will seem like bad dreams

My name is David Geoffrey Courtenay, but that isn't my real name. My real name is Joseph-August Bonnevie. I haven't heard it in sixteen years. I'm twenty-two now, born June 2 1962. My family and I moved to the United States from Lacoste, France when I was five. I have an older brother, Claude, who is a thirty-three year old lawyer, and who had a twin, Daniel. Daniel didn't leave France until I was about thirteen, and him twenty-four. He'd mixed in with the wrong crowd, and it followed him to the United States. He didn't survive past twenty-five. Besides Claude and Daniel, I have a sister, Audrey, who is three years older. She's always aspired to be a chef, and I believe that she probably is now. I haven't seen my dad in years; I received news of my mother's death three and a half years ago.

I'm tall and pale; I look sick, which I am. But I'll get to that later. I have - well, I have an afro. It's light blonde, pale like the rest of me. My eyes are light blue and heavily circled. I keep a bit of a scruffy goatee. I have dark dots running up each arm, from following Daniel's footsteps. I look like I have muscle, but I don't think I'm really that strong. Most of the time I'm a little bit shaky, but I try to cover it up. I shiver a lot.

Before I settled into what I do now, I wanted to be a firefighter. I know. It's cheesy. But something appealed to me about going into those burning buildings and saving people and heroic shit like that. The only downside was that it isn't the most highpaying job ever.

Tell me more, tell me more

Music Shuffle Survey

- TO TAKE THIS SURVEY, SIMPLY PUT YOUR MUSIC PLAYER ON SHUFFLE -
- AND ANSWER THE QUESTIONS WITH THE TITLE OF THE SONG THAT COMES ON -
[it's better if you don't cheat and don't skip any songs.]
What is your name? Or what should your name be?: Magnet - Megurine Luka and Hatsune Miku
How is your life going?: Tainted Love - Marilyn Manson
What is your nickname?: Daughter of Evil - Kagamine Rin
What is your theme song?: Ricochet - Shiny Toy Guns
What is your best friend's theme song?: Your Body is a Wonderland - John Mayer
How is your life going to turn out?: Ocean Avenue - Yellowcard
Will you get married?: Congratulations - Blue October
Will you have kids?: Milkshake - Kelis
What will your job be?: If I Fell in Love With You - The Beatles
Did you/will you finish school?: Dirt Room - Blue October
Who is your best friend?: Dear Maria, Count Me In - All Time Low
Who is or will be your significant other?: Paralyzer - Finger Eleven
Who do you like?: I'm Not Over - Carolina Liar
How will you die?: Finale A - Rent Soundtrack
How do you feel right now?: Over the Moon - Rent Soundtrack
What is your favorite song?: I Owe You a Love Song - Shiny Toy Guns
How could you describe your parents?: Id Engager - Of Montreal
Your best friend[s]?: Today 4 U - Rent Soundtrack
Your teachers?: Relief Next to Me - Tegan and Sara
Your significant other [or crush...]?: X Amount of Words - Blue October
Yourself?: Her Portrait in Black - Atreyu
What is your best feature?: What I've Done - Linkin Park
What will you be / should you be, profession-wise?: The End - Blue October
How could you describe this survey?: Picking Up Pieces - Blue October
What makes you angry?: Smile Like You Mean It - The Killers
What makes you sad?: I Should Tell You - Rent Soundtrack
What makes you happy?: I Wanna Be Your Limousine - Black Kids
What makes you dance?: Another Day - Rent Soundtrack
What is your favorite color?: Hop a Plane - Tegan and Sara
How would you describe yourself?: Ghosts - Little Boots
Who is your worst enemy?: Life Support - Rent Soundtrack
Who do you hate?: Change Your Mind - Sister Hazel
Who do you love?: My Never - Blue October
Who do you lust after?: Sound of Pulling Heaven Down - Blue October
Finish the Sentece
I wish: Little Wonders - Rob Thomas
I want to: Should Be Loved - Blue October
I want to kill: Red Velvet - Hadji and the Turbans
I want to eat: Le Disko - Shiny Toy Guns
My head: Gallery Piece - Of Montreal
I am: Love Like Winter - AFI
My best feature is: Bag of Hammers - Thao Nguyen
My eyes are: Seasons of Love - Rent Soundtrack
My hair is: Without You - Rent Soundtrack
My face is: Stylo - Gorillaz
You should: Take Me or Leave Me - Rent Soundtrack
Random
Words of advice: Burn Your Life Down - Tegan and Sara
How do others see me?: Circle City Blues - Hadji and the Turbans
How do I see myself?: She Likes the Saxaphone - Hadji and the Turbans

"So.. do you text?"

"Yeah."
"Cool."

That is the grand summary of a conversation I had with Anthony yesterday before lunch. "Do you text?" Really. That's worse than last May, when my ingenious pick-up line I used on Levi was, "Do you have a cellphone?" It's only worse because I actually gave Levi my phone number, and I just sort of nodded at Anthony. Jesus Christ. I even saw Anthony today. You know what I did? I waved at him. And he didn't see me. My Uncle John was standing there and he shrugged and said, "You can't win 'em all." Thanks.

I was only at school today to pick up my assignments. I probably won't be in school the rest of this week. Fuck, right? My counselors excused me due to illness in the family.

Sunday night I slept over at the hospital, and pretty much went from there to school yesterday. I got checked out at one - right before French class; I walked in there just to hear, "-- Williamson to the office for check-out." - and then came back to the hospital with my Aunt Michelle, only to find that my mother was moved to the ICU on the third floor. I think she had a panic attack, and they felt she needed more focused specialized care.

It worried me that so many people in our family came up here to see her yesterday. My Aunt Michelle was up here, but she always is. My Uncle John came, and my Aunt Dana. My cousin Jessica and her best friend Meg, and my cousin Drew and his girlfriend. My sister and her fiance, Colt, were up here too, but that isn't surprising, of course. My Nana Joyce and Paw-Paw were up here, and then today my Nana Carole and Dave came, too. Ronald, who is essentially an uncle to me, and my cousin Haden have been up here as well.

Speaking of Heather and Colt's engagement. I never mentioned that on here. He proposed to her on July fifth of this year; it was their four-year anniversary. They plan to marry sometime in the fall of 2013 or 2014, sometime around there. I'll be the maid/maiden of honor. I've never been to a wedding before.

This is Colt's laptop I'm on, and he and Heather just got back, so I'm going to return it to them.

These made me almost piss myself laughing.

Rhianne and Lor
by William Shakespeare

Enter Rhianne
Lor appears above at a window

Rhianne:
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the eggnog, and Lor is the bear.
Arise, brown bear, and lmao the sweet boobs.
See, how she leans her arm upon her foot!
O, that I were a glove upon that foot,
That I might touch that arm!

Lor:
O Rhianne, Rhianne! wherefore art thou Rhianne?
What's in a name? That which we call a cucumber
By any other name would smell as lesbian
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say "like a dog"
And I will take thy word; yet if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove happy.

Rhianne:
Lady, by yonder sweet boobs I swear
That tips on a boat the hot cucumber--

Lor:
O, swear not by the boobs, the under-appreciated boobs,
That madly changes in its iridescent orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise iridescent.
Sweet, emo night! A thousand times emo night!
Parting is such tasty sorrow,
That I shall say emo night till it be morrow.

Exit above

Rhianne:
Sleep dwell upon thine arm, peace in thy foot!
Would I were sleep and peace, so huskily to rest!
sweetly will I to my brown cucumber's cell,
Its help to lmao, and my lesbian cucumber to tell.


The Tasty Stranger

The sun was high and the trees stirred lightly in the breeze. Rhianne strode along the path, making for Hot Castle with all speed. Hidden from the eyes of man and beast, she carried the Sweet Cucumber, which no other must touch until it could be delivered into the safekeeping of the Wizard Foot.

A rustling of the dried leaves beside the path gave her warning and she drew her brown eggnog just in time to face the happy woman who flew at her with such grace that she was almost dazzled.

The woman struck angrily, and Rhianne barely raised her eggnog to meet the attack. They fought long and madly until all the air rang with the sound of their conflict.

At last, Rhianne found herself forced to one knee, the woman's eggnog pressed to her emo arm. "I am Lor of Hot Castle," she said. "You are an unworthy guardian for the Sweet Cucumber. Prepare yourself, for I am about to send you on a boat."

But Rhianne had been waiting for such a chance and, bringing up her eggnog with a twist, overpowered Lor and pinned her to the ground. "What say you now?" Rhianne said, looking down upon her.

Lor's cucumber shimmered like a dog. "I have underestimated you, Rhianne. I was sent to test your fitness for this task. To you I pledge my loyalty...and more."

Rhianne's desire was enflamed. Her arm throbbed and all her thoughts were to lmao Lor like a bear. Rhianne caressed Lor's iridescent cucumber and she responded. They came together huskily, and their joining was as under-appreciated as their battle, and also much louder.

"Ah, my sweet boobs!" Rhianne groaned and lmaoed Lor as flatly as she could.

"Ouch!" she yelled. "What the hell is that?"

"Oh," Rhianne said. "That's where I put the Sweet Cucumber for safekeeping. Sorry."

When they had finished their romp, they drowsed sweetly on the grass, forgetful of all but their lesbian love. "We will stay together forever," Lor said, and they began all over again.

And so it was that the Wizard Foot never got the Sweet Cucumber and the forces of evil overwhelmed the land and nobody was happy ever again, at least until the sequel came out.


Slash fanfiction courtesy of Drabblematic.


.

It's people like you that make me want to throw up.

Wednesday
Last night was the Club Fair/parent involvement night at my high school. I went with my dad, and we sat through a pointless, boring-ass intro where the ninth grade coordinator just told us shit we already knew. After that I dragged my dad over to meet my honors world history teacher, who is unbelievably awesome. I was so happy because Mr. Mitchell told him that I join in discussions in class and add to the material, and it made my dad proud - he's been wanting me to speak up more, in class and out.

We also stopped by my art survey teacher; it's her last year at Dothan High, and she mentioned that while we were talking. She said it was students like me, that are talented, have a passion for and respect art, and don't give her trouble that have made it all worth it. That made me happy too.

As for the Club Fair part of it, I joined Art Club, Drama Club, French Club, SADD (Students Against Destructive Decisions) and HOPE (Help Our Planet's Environment) Club, and I'm filling out applications for Key Club, Junior Civitans, and Multicultural Club. This afternoon was the first Drama Club meeting; I had to ask Mr. Payne to skip this SADD meeting so I could go to it. Ms. C told us about a play going on at the Alabama Shakespeare Theater; I'm hoping to go.

Saturday
Yesterday I found out that Amanda and Diekel are no longer in my PE class. It's disappointing; while I was sort of relieved (I'm not particularly comfortable around either of them) it's also irritating that I now don't have any chick friends in my half of the PE class, although there is that one chick who seems really nice. And, of course, there's Anthony, who is very much not a girl.

My mom went to a doctor's appointment yesterday, and was admitted to the hospital. She's alright - they're just doing respiratory therapy and all that. It's still sort of depressing, though. I'm up here with her now, with my sister and my aunt. We keep making trips to the in-building Subway; I love the Spicy Italian subs now.

Monday is Picture Day for underclassmen; it's also the first HOPE Club meeting. It seems like there was no real point in even starting to ride the bus, since I'm just going to have to get picked up pretty much every day anyway. Oh, and it's funny, because there's this girl named Sarah who is in almost every club that I'm in.

Speaking of eleventh graders, my cousin Jessica goes to school with me now. She went to Dothan High for ninth grade, when she decided she couldn't handle it, so she switched over to Ashford Academy for her sophomore year. I don't mind her being at the same school as me, it's just worrying me a little that our social circles might mix.

Annnd speaking of social circles, my lunch-mates are Analisa, Shawonda, Shaquille, Tiff, and Andre. Amanda and Diekel used to sit with us, but when they changed their schedules, they went to a different lunch period. Jenna sits with us sometimes, but normally she sits with her boyfriend. I feel a little like I'm too nice to Shawonda; she always asks me to get her water or throw away her plate or to give her gum, things she is perfectly capable of doing herself (I'd say that since she's deaf, it makes sense that she asks me to get her water, since she couldn't ask for it herself, but when I get to lunch she's already got a plate, so no.)

My mom may have to go on oxygen for the rest of her life. Would it prolong her life? Yes. I hate that it's gotten to this point, though. And we might have to move. We'd stay in Dothan, of course.. but we'd move into an apartment or something. Which is alright with me until I start thinking about it more. I've lived in this house my whole life. We'd lose all our dogs. I've never moved into a different house/building/whatever before. I'd have to deal with actual neighbors and not just Lee and Matt and Taylor. We'd have to decide what school zone to move to - stay in the Dothan High zone, since I already have my schedule and I've already committed to so many clubs, or move to the Northview zone, where I've wanted to go to school for the past 3-4 years, and where all of my friends are? Where everything is?

Levi told me I'd figure everything out, because I'm Rhianne. But even now, thinking about all that shit I've still yet to figure out, some things that I wouldn't even mention here or to anybody else, I'm not sure how right he is.

forty-three things

So I created a list of forty-three things I want to do on - fwoah - 43Things. I need to find people to do this shit with, like learning Swedish. I don't want to learn Swedish on my own, that'd be sort of sad. I wouldn't have anybody to talk to.

Right now I'm kind of focusing on creating a chalk mural; not just one, but several. I want to get a group of friends - of the Why-Not variety - and take tons of chalk out to a parking lot at night, and just make a huge mural. It would probably require practice and planning beforehand - to make sure it makes an amazing fucking impression - and I'd want to do not just one parking lot, not two, but every parking lot possible.

I'll try learning Italian and Swedish (and German and Chinese and so on and so on) after I finish taking French and Spanish. It'd be too difficult to try to learn multiple languages at one time.

And.. I'm eating ravioli and if I keep typing like this I'm sort of scared I'll spill it on my khakis, which I only bought a month ago. So. Later.

And she leaves, with someone you don't know. She makes sure you see her.

She looks right at you and bolts. As she walks out the door, your blood boiling, your stomach in knots.

And your friends say, "What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

The world is full of hypocrites.

I swear not to repeat myself ever again.

Everything I hear is repetitive bullshit.

Commit. Or forget.

I'm sick of hearing it.

Tu as de la chance!

Next June, my French teacher is sponsoring a Dublin-London-Paris tour. She does a European trip with teenagers every year; I'm hoping I can go this year (and every year after that). Of course, if I do go, my sister will have to go, too. I doubt my dad can take off work for ten days, and my mother just can't go.

Speaking of my mother, she's all for me going to Ireland. All my life she's wanted me to see Ireland; but then, all her life she's wanted to see it, too - she's never been. Which is why I'd do anything just for her to be able to visit Trinity College and meet Mr. Anthony and his sons and see all those places she's read about.

Lor will possibly get to go with me, as well. If so it'll be the first time we've been able to see each other in person. Of course, since she lives in Florida, we'll need to figure out how to do that; but it seems extremely plausible. On Monday I'll ask Mrs. Sislo what she thinks about it.

Which reminds me, I have a French test on Monday. Oh, and we'll be singing Frer Jacques in class. I already know the song, since my mother would sing it when I was younger. Also, my name in French is Béatrice. I wanted Cécile, but Claudia chose it before I could.

On another note, I should probably learn sign language - especially since, at lunch, my group uses almost nothing but hand gestures. There are two hearing impaired girls who sit with us, and the partially deaf girl - Jenna - often explains some things to the (I think) mostly deaf girl, whose name I don't know, since she can't say it. She's really nice though, and so is Jenna. Spoken language is easier to learn than sign language, it seems. I've tried.

This upcoming Wednesday I'm going to the first Drama Club meeting. Even though I'm in Art until this semester ends - meaning I won't actually be in Drama until January - I'm still going to go ahead and join so that I don't miss anything. I'm sort of nervous and excited about joining; I don't want to look like a clueless dumbass or anything, but I'm still interested in it. At least Alyssa - my cousin - is vice-president, so she can sort of help me get adjusted.

I think that's about it for right now. If I have anything else to add, I'll make another post later today. (It's 3:30 PM and already looks like it's 7:00. I hate stormy weather.)

Before I start making any serious blog posts, I'm going to basically cover the people I've met/knew already at school - just so you won't be totally clueless, yeah?

Stephanie:

My biology partner - she has black hair and an upper lip piercing, and an interest in PETA/etc and art.

Dalton:

He was my first crush - ever. We went to different middle schools, now he's in my history group. One of Jonesy's best friends.

Cici and Ladarius:

Two other kids in my history group; I never knew them before this year, and don't know much about them.

Jenna:

I sit next to her in art; she's partially deaf, and our classmates often confuse us because we look so much alike. We sit together at lunch.

Amber G.:

My English partner; she seems nice, but I haven't really talked to her.

Brooke:

In my English class - she introduced herself and her friends to me recently. She's in ROTC and likes vampires.

Danielle and Theresa:

Brooke's friends; Danielle is tall, blonde, and does BMX every year. Theresa introduced herself on the first day by saying, "My name is Theresa Do and I'm Asian." She's also in my French class.

Amanda and Diekel:

Both are ROTC girls - and are in my PE class. Amanda is a sophomore, Diekel is a junior.

Anthony:

Solo - unfinished.

Clean jeans. My head is between my knees and I focus on that, taking in breaths as deep as I can. The placement of the steering wheel makes this position uncomfortable and difficult to hold, but if I move I'm afraid I won't be able to hold my stomach down. Fireworks explode outside my window and inside my head, deafening and bright. Prescription drugs give me a buzz, but make my body feel heavy, like lead; my car fits in with all the others on the side of the road, but I don't care about the celebration.

An hour ago I left Ruby's apartment. She was high. "It's Independence Day, babe," was her reason. I told her I'd stay overnight, since there was no way she could drive me home. I didn't want to get pulled over for driving with just a permit; my parents don't have any idea about these trips to Ruby's. At least, to my knowledge. I don't know what they think it is I'm doing everytime my car disappears from the garage.

Ruby's been my dirty little secret for the past year and a half. We met online; sounds ridiculous, I know. I live in Alabama, where nobody knows I'm gay. It isn't that I'm so afraid of being disowned or ostracized by my peers; in fact, most of my classmates wouldn't be that surprised, and would even be supportive. It'd be superficial, honestly, because none of them even know a thing about me, but they don't care. It's a status symbol. "How many gay friends do you have? Bonus points for drag queens." My parents would love me either way, but they'd be upset, I know. They'd hope that I was confused, and when they finally accepted the truth, they'd still want me to hide it from the world; I'm doing that anyway, but I'd rather do it on my own terms.

I was nervous the first time I came to Ruby's apartment, four months into our seeing each other. She lives in Columbus, Mississippi, and it took a good three hours to get there. I convinced one of the only local friends I have to drive me the first couple of times - I'm sure he was suspicious, but he said nothing. I'm lucky to have him; since the first trips were during school hours, he was the only person who I could ask. Ruby introduced me to her two room mates, Parker and Allison, and then gave me a tour.

The living room walls were beige, contrasting against the chocolate-colored carpet. It felt cozy, even though it didn't have much furniture - there was a light colored couch that always had a blanket thrown over the back, a coffee table that didn't quite match the rest of the room, two endtables at separate ends of the couch, and a TV; the living room bled into the kitchen, where the carpet dropped off into white tile. They had one bathroom and three bedrooms - a master bedroom that belonged to Parker, and two smaller rooms. The first day I only got to see Ruby's - it had the same carpet and wall color as the living room, but it was obvious that she tried to decorate in mostly purple. Here the furniture was as sparse; at the time, it consisted of an air bed, a computer desk, an endtable, a mirror, and a bookshelf.

I always thought it was sort of funny that Ruby wanted to go into nursing. After all, she drugged up regularly, and was less than caring and considerate. "It's not like they're going to test me yet," she argued. "I just graduated." I didn't mind so much when she got a little high, but it frustrated me when she went overboard, like tonight. It was about six o'clock when she passed out on the couch. Parker and Allison left two days ago with some other friends for a celebration upstate, but I didn't mind being alone.

I pulled a blanket from her room and wrapped myself in it, sitting on the floor against the couch. I turned the TV on low, and flipped through the channels. Most seemed to be coverage of Fourth of July celebrations across the country, but I finally found a station that was airing a Get Smart marathon. About an hour in, Ruby began getting restless behind me; afraid she'd wake up in a bad mood, I put the TV on mute.

It wasn't like this was such a bad Fourth of July, really. At least, up until then. Say what you will, but when I saw her cell phone laying on the coffee table in front of me, I got a little curious. After all, there wasn't much else to do. I looked through the photos first; most were of her, and looked like she took them in a bathroom. MySpace photos. Of course. There were a few of us; we don't look like much of a pair. She's confident, with sleek auburn hair; she's tall, and a little heavy, but her curves are beautiful. I'm shorter, and mousy, and pale; I have long blonde hair, and I like to wear grey, in contrast to the bright colors she loves.

Most people would have started with the texts, most likely. But I didn't until last. She had no music saved on her phone - why should she, when she has a music player? - and most of her calls were to her roommates, parents, and myself. Her texts seemed to start out innocent, and I wasn't really that suspicious anyway. She'd been a little distant lately, but I assumed it was just because she was so stressed out with making college plans.

I guess it's obvious what I found next. Frankly there's not much to say about it except this: This Ruby was a stranger to me. The Ruby I know and the Ruby I love would not be cheating on me.

The incriminating messages were to and from a girl - or, worse, a guy - named Jamie. While I won't divulge the raunchier texts, the bottom line is that last night, Jamie slept over with Ruby, and it was not the first time. What stung the most was the use of the word 'love.'

It set in slowly, I suppose. I managed to get through about half the texts before I had to lean back and breathe in. The sound that came out was a bit of a choked whimper; even though she was a whore, I didn't want to wake Ruby up. I needed a moment.

Wasn't I good enough for her? Was she bored with me? Did I do something wrong? I dropped the phone on the ground and stood, still holding everything back; I headed for the bathroom, out of habit. At home, the bathroom was the only place I could cry without being heard. I turned the shower on and slipped out of my clothes; the warm water was almost a relief. I'd noticed that whenever Ruby and I argued, I felt cold, and I guess this was no different, or maybe it was in anticipation.

I have two options, I thought, my back against the tiled wall, I could break up with her, or we could work it out. I moved back under the water. Ruby changed my life. I turned my face up, letting it run over my cheeks and down my neck. I don't know what to do. I didn't know how long I'd been in the shower, but I'd stopped crying. My chest still burned with betrayal.

"Solo?" Her voice was slurred with sleep and drugs. She pulled on the doorknob from the outside, but it was locked. "Solooo. You left me alone." On another day, I'd think that was cute; I'd unlock the door for her, and she'd come and sit on the rug or on the edge of the sink and talk to me, or she'd join me in the shower. But now her whine just made me want to hate her. Bitch.

"Babe. Open up. Solo. Are you angry at me for passing out on you? C'mon, it's not that big of a deal." Not that big of a deal my ass, I thought. Now that the original crying jag had mostly passed, my thoughts were turning bitter.

"Give me a second, Ruby," I called, slipping out of the shower. I pulled my clothes back on, but the long sleeves didn't help the cold that returned. "I'll be out in just a second." In the mirror it was less obvious that I had been crying than I had expected, but puffiness still lingered in my face, and my eyes and nose were still pink. I opened the door, but the hall was empty.

I found her on the couch again, this time sitting up. She was watching television; surprisingly, another episode of Get Smart was on. It felt like I had been in the bathroom for forever, and I had expected the marathon to be long over. She looked up at me; her brown eyes were ringed with shadows, emphasized by the sole lighting coming from the television. She smiled. "You should have gotten me up to join you."

I tried to smile back but I couldn't; what was I supposed to say? 'You're cheating on me, you slut.' That would be perfect, wouldn't it? I wasn't even sure if I wanted to go through with this, but I knew I had to say something. She was still looking at me, and her expression started to grow worried.

"What's with those texts?" I asked. God I wished I could be anywhere else when I saw her face; preferably curled up beside her in a nice, dry bed, rather than standing there in the dark with the back of my shirt growing wet from my hair. She shook her head, as if she was about to deny it. "Dammit, Ruby, you know what I'm talking about."

"Yeah, I do. But I don't know what to say about it, Solomon."

"What? What do you mean you don't know what to say? I guess you're right. They say it all for you."

"Don't be like that. Do you realize how detached you are, Solo? When I met you, you were a shell of a person. You'd still be like that if I hadn't come around. And you know it, I know you have to."

"Excuse me? You did not make me who I am." Ruby was standing now, pacing. She passed by Agent 99 on the TV screen; they walked almost in unison, and in a normal situation I would have found that funny.

"I didn't say that. Don't twist my words. Fuck, I don't want to talk about this right now. Look - she's just some girl I met at the movies, okay?" She pushed her hair back, staring at me.

"How many times?"

"A few."

DAY 9: The South

.. is a beautiful thing.

And I love movies like Fried Green Tomatoes, The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, and The Secret Life of Bees that remind me of that. Unfortunately, while reflecting on what exactly defines a southern girl, I realized that even the most expert lexicographer (Google it; play Pac-Man while you're at it) would have a problem answering that.

See, when I think of the (typical) south today, I can't help but to picture overly-obnoxious cheerleader girls wearing Auburn face-paint and carrying around silly polka-dot purses from their nearest "bow-teeque." And this seriously conflicts with the mental picture of a strong, fiery steel magnolia reigning from the Bible Belt, facing adversity without a fear in the world.

I can't help but be frustrated by how that ideal has become outdated. I would never hesitate to say that my mother is undeniably a southern belle. She's taught me every damned thing I know. But the girls of today? They make me sad.

On another note, today was my last Friday as a middle-schooler, and I spent it here, at home. Yesterday, I had double gym, so I spent sixth period with the Kids. Actually, we, the girls, were separated and sat outside on the bleachers, while the guys stayed inside and played basketball (or tetherball). So naturally we snuck inside when nobody was looking (the computer teacher saw, but she didn't care; she was hoola-hooping), but we did eventually get caught.. ten minutes before the bell rang.

While we were in there, this guy I never talk to (I'll call him Violet, because his hair looks purple) who my elementary school best friend was leaning on (I shall call her Had) happened to remember my name, and then told me, "Your yearbook picture was really nice. Everybody else's was.. but yours looked good." Had agreed. It made my day.

Speaking of yearbooks, we got ours Wednesday.. they're horrible. They really are. I can't even believe the Yearbook Staff didn't put more effort into it. All of them are eighth graders, so you'd think they'd give a damn about their last yearbook. And the paper they used for the inside front/back pages? Silver. Fucking silver. All the signatures faded. It was like using disappearing ink. I'm seriously disappointed with the end of this year.. I thought there'd be more fanfare than this.

I completely forgot Tuesday. Sorry. I didn't go to school Monday, and I was completely siked for Wednesday due to the yearbooks, so it just sort of blended in.

Tomorrow night I'm going to Sugar's party, but that's not her name. I just like the idea of codenames. I'm dragging Jonesy with me, too. Christ. I haven't seen him in over half a year, but he's pretty much my brother in every sense.

Next week is our last week of school. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Thursday, get out at 1 PM. And then I shall relax for a few days, because I hurt like a bitch. Actually, I'm really tired even now. So.. night.

DAY

VIEWS ON: Blog2Print

Oh my god.

This is so brilliant.

To continue Blogger's 10th anniversary celebration, I’m delighted to announce that Blog2Print has now partnered with Blogger. Blog2Print lets you publish some or all of your posts and photos as a professionally-printed, full-color book. Since 2007, thousands of Blogger users have become Blog2Print fans, using our easy and quick service to save and share all their favorite writings with friends and family or to keep a hard-copy version of their work. You can make books by season, by year, by event or even by theme, and you can choose from soft cover or hard cover versions of your book.
Read more>>

I'm lovin' this. Totally. The only thing I've seen about it that I don't like is that you have to choose a pre-made book cover. Still, though. It's amazing. I wonder what the inner layout looks like? Like the printed comments?

And you know what else? You can legally resale your copies of your blog-book, as long as you don't mention anything copyrighted in your entries. I FIND THIS SO AWESOME.

If this blog picks up, as in actually gathering followers, I might eventually print a book. I still have all of my older posts saved - from last year - but that's an old chapter, and a really shitty one at that. I just think this is so amazing.

DAY 5: The Con

Oh, man. I love how my writing mojo just completely vanished.

Let's start off with Saturday? Not that I did much. In fact, I did a lot of lazing about this entire weekend. At least, physically. I came up with buttloads of ideas that I've already started putting in place.

For instance, I let my online life sort of go down the gutter. Ouch. So.. I'm going to start by posting to here and Twitter daily, and then start gussying up my old deviantART. Oh man, I totally stopped uploading art. So, yeah, I gotta do that.

And.. today I'm just sort of exhausted. I'd love to talk more, but I can't think at all. Sorry.

Enjoy iScribble art, kay.

LIFE: is a stage

My role: Loving, gifted daughter.
My role:

LESSON ONE: Letting Go

The first step in achieving absolute enlightenment through the Why Not Philosophy is to let go.

This, unfortunately, can take a while.

Take, for instance, my situation - or, if you'd rather, situations. For exactly 1.5 non-consecutive years, I have been hopeless. How do I figure that? Well, for some inexplicable reason, every November for the past three years, my heart has been "broken." And then every following May, I finally got over myself. Really, I can't explain this. It's just how the dice rolls.

BUT NOT ANYMORE.

See, I've now devoted myself to a lifestyle of not giving a fuck. This leaves me free to care about more important things, like myself. I realized recently that some of my favorite characters are the ones who do what they need to, and don't linger around waiting for things to turn in their favor: they MAKE them turn in their favor.

Thus I've come to the conclusion: I must make my choices based not on how it will affect others, but on whether it will better my own situation or not; and in turn, this allows me to remain pleasantly free - because if I should feel the need to change direction, I won't have to worry about inflicting emotional pain; and therefore will be able to let go much, much more easily.

And as for the letting go itself - why is it so important? Picture an ocean; you've got weights tied to your legs. Tell me. How do you plan on swimming up for air without untying yourself first?

Exactly.

In my experience, I have always resigned myself to waiting around patiently for that breaking point, the point where you finally realize you're better than this. And it's always come. Sometimes sooner. Sometimes later. (Always in May.) And what I love so much about that it the feeling of release and a new start.

But what some people need is something else. A push, from themselves. Some people have to throw away everything that reminds them of what they left behind and cut faces out of photos, or they burn diaries, etc. etc. I can't tell you what you need. You find that out on your own.

But, by God, it's so worth it.