Hearts Skipped a Beat

Ever since I got a king-sized bed I've lost the matching sock to almost every pair I've got.

It was kinda awkward. I never looked at the clock at '6:56' and being extremely superstitious like I am, I instantly thought that this meant something big was coming. That somethings are going to change.

And I would not be the least bit scared of a little big change right now. Yeah, cash and checks would be nice too.

I picture Christmases to come to be a little different... and it gets me so excited, really. I see me setting up my tree in June and decorating it for the 4th and for Halloween and Thanksgiving. Decorate it with a whole bunch of Indian feathers and turkeys. Yeah... live turkeys.

There was a time my sophomore year that I made myself high without using anything harmful. Just straight Anne of Green Gables and Seductive Pea bath soap in the early morning hours.

Which is rather addictive actually and I was beyond happy. I wasn't high. I called it "floating", because that's how it felt.

And you told me that this is not healthy. "That's dangerous, Phyllis. That's just not healthy at all."

I've realized on this blog that I've talked about my hairy legs twice. Now three times and it makes me feel kind of weird.

And I remember when i told you about my most 'spiritual experience', my 'vision', that dream I had 2 years ago, and you thought I was real crazy. I've never told anyone but you, but you thought I was crazy.
But I think you're pretty crazy most of the time.

This doesn't make any sense, I know. This isn't what I want to write, you know that too. But you asked for a blog post and now you've got it.

"Sandy, Baby"

On Being Miserable: A How To Guide

•Don't even lay down for a moment and think about all that you have. Remind yourself that your life really could not be any worse. You are suffering more than anyone.

•Don't sit down for a single second. This may cause contemplation, which may result in a small amount of "content". And even a sliver of happiness can infect the whole finger. The positivity can spread through your system to your brain and, in time, you will find the optimism has taken over the sum of your entire body.

•And you don't want that.

•Count your many trials name them one by one.

•Don't turn on the radio. Music is dangerous. Tapping of the foot may release some emotional weight off your brain, so just try to avoid beats and rhythms in general. It is safest with out the music anyways.

•Do nothing too risky. Or different. Any sort of physical or emotional activity can be dangerous to your overall misery. So keep the blinds closed and spend your Saturdays sleeping alone.

•Keep all social interaction to a bare minimum. Conversations must stay away from news of high importance. "Hi, how are you. Nice weather we're having." Spongebob said it best.

•Be careful not to smile. Smiling can change a person's whole face and personality.. make them look so much more attractive.. it's kinda like... magic. But to keep a perfectly miserable countenance, all sort of loveliness must be avoided. So keep your hood over your eyes and your lips over your teeth, pressed into a frown. Yes. Oh, yes. Now you look wonderfully melancholy.

•Most crucially, you must avoid Love. This is the most dangerous drug of all. If caught, the joy can be quite contagious and is fatal to everyone's overall misery that come in contact with you. This sort of joy can be addictive and will only result in a disgusting amount of happiness.

• But this one can be avoided if you only read the stories and never create one of your own.

If you're happy and cannot sleep count your miseries instead of sheep.

for the sick and for the tired

I am so tired. 
Those words were typed with as much emphasis as my fingers could possibly press for you.

I am so tired of shaving my legs.
I am tired of my hair. These tangles are exhausting me. The ringlets, tiring me.
I am so tired of clothes. It's so hard for me to want to get dressed these mornings. Want to put anything on at all.
I am sick of my body. Every limb.
Most nights I spend lying in the dark on my bed, watching the upside down moon through my window. Those nights I wish I could detach my limbs from me, one by one by one by one. Erasing, beginning at my toes, tickling up my legs, crawling over my thighs, numbing my waist and everything above... Because maybe it would release the tension at my joints.

Let me complain to you. Pleeease. Because all this time, I've been what you've wanted me to be. The Happy One.

I am exhausted with The Fakers. I am tired of the people who secretly hate me. The ones who are mad at me when I succeed. Why are you still around?? Why are you still here if you hate to be with me?? If it makes you sick to see me be loved? Even brats like me need to be loved.
Maybe I am the most exciting thing you've got? Maybe it's because I know a bit about love and I have big secrets? I won't be mad, have you're own adventures. I won't be green. I won't be jealous one bit. I will be extremely happy.

"What are 'friends' really? Just, just define friends for me, please." I asked. But he couldn't. "Exactly."

I am here to please you, my pretties. I am only here to be what I always have been. The Happy One.
But, tell me, how far does "just be your self" go? I really want you to tell me, because I don't know anymore. Because I am so confused sometimes.

I wonder sometimes how much I would hurt, how much I would lose, if I were to just "be my self" for the first time...

It's not that I like the silence, it's just that we've had so much time to say all that we could ever say.

I am so tired.

I Remember Boys

I remember Brant Carmicheal. I remember he was so mean to me, but he was the only boy I ever knew. He ruined my elementary school life. But I was in love with him and 5 year old love counts to me.

I remember believing in Serendipity as an 8 year old.

I was sure Spencer Reinstein and I were getting married because we both moved here on the same day. What says marriage more than that?

I can remember cleaning up in class and Clay Francis and I reached for the same piece of trash on the floor. Our hands touched and I was sure we were getting married.

I remember the very first time I met Travis Kirk. I was eating cherries in the best cherry tree and it was a Sunday. I remember I never thought I had seen a more beautiful boy before. And I remember thinking I really made an impression because my hair was in two pig tails. I just knew he had fallen for me.

I still remember the first time I saw Andrew Saxton. He was peeing on a tree in my backyard when he thought no one was looking. We yelled at him and my sister and I hated him for as long as kids can hate.

I remember the first time I had a play-date with a boy out of school. It was The Boy. I didn't say a word to him, of course, and we played Nancy Drew Clue games on the computer.

I can remember my first boy friend at my charter school. Everyone said I shouldn't like him cuz he's so fat, but I reassured everyone that this guy in '13 Going in 30' is chubby at 13, but he's hot when he's older. Plus, he told me I was skinny. And that was a compliment, even in the 5th grade.

I remember the first time I met The Captain at EFY. I pretended to throw up on him as "The Initiation" into the group. I remember he thought I was crazy and I remember that's the way I wanted it.

Freedom

'My country tis of thee'

This has nothing to do with Obama.

'Sweet Land of Liberty'

This has nothing to do with Mitt Romney.

For once, this has to do with me.

'For thee, I sing.'

Maybe, in a few years, I will be there. Maybe more. High school graduation, turning eighteen, really does nothing for me. Maybe in five years time you will see us. Me and Freedom. Holding our hands in the air, wearing old copper and posing for the pictures.

What am I, Freedom, without you? Just one lone body stuck here in my bedroom. Drowning here in my basement. Bars in the window; barbed wire at all the perimeters I want to go. So I sit down and paint Freedom in my basement.

But it's hard with out the visual, because I never saw her stop at my bars. I never once saw Freedom walk passed my cell.

Miley Cyrus and the Prom Queen

                                   

Rock out like you and your sisters used to to Hannah Montana. Dancing in front of the bedroom mirror in your dress up wigs. Rock out like you and your sisters do now. Sexy dancing to the new Miley Cyrus.
Rock out like big girls now.

Rock out like your 13 again and you just held a boy's hand for the very first time. And your stomach is still flipping. Rock out like you just had your first kiss and.. I've never been kissed. But rock out to that feeling when you realize you maybe want to kiss him. Like, a lot. Like, kiss him twice. Like, maybe more.

Rock out like you're spending you're weekend alone and you're totally okay with that.

Rock out like you just made a new friend and it was actually pretty painless and you didn't freeze up or throw up or give up or anything.

Rock out like your favorite brother's here to visit. Rock out like you two actually know how to swing dance. Like how he loves to dip you.

Rock out like Anne and Gilbert just found each other again. Like Jack just saw Rose for the very first time. Like if Peter and Wendy grew old together. Like if Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan are in another movie together.

Like you just had a bishops interview and you didn't even cry once.

Rock out like you don't have anything to cry about.

Rock out like you're older now and you finally know what it's like to be free.

Rock out like there's fireflies in the west. Like it's a summer night and you're 14 again.
And you and the ginger are still best friends. And You and The Boy are still undecidedly, awkwardly in love.

Rock out like the converse are steppin and squeakin and slidin. And elbows are flyin.

Like it's high school 1985 and the great almighty voice above just crackled that you won Prom Queen.

Rock out like you know your mom used to.

Rock out like it is 1961 and you have the biggest hair in Baltimore.