About Me

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I am twenty-four years old, I love to read, write, sing, listen to music, watch theater, open presents, hike, and climb. The number one thing I dislike is lazy people. My goal in life over job, or money, or travel, is to overcome the struggles of the past, and become a whole, happy woman.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Children in Africa don't want your evil shoes, mom...

If you've read my past posts, you know that my parents home was hit by a tornado.  In the two weeks since, I have heard my mom complain about the carpet, the windows, the tree's, the prices, and the INSURANCE company. She has cried a sob story to her boss getting $500 dollars, she cried a sob story to my grandparents getting $1,000(a month after she took their Ipad and claimed it for hers) and then she gets a phone call from our old pastors wife and I hear her say "Oh everyone is fine, the house is damaged, but that's not what matters, I'm just so blessed that Shannon and Richard were okay". WHAT? I was bawling my eyes out, and scared to death, she didn't care, because as soon as she pulled in she was on the phone with the insurance company! So our old pastor also gave her $500 for the house.

So this week after she got all that money from all these people we start getting packages in the mail from Amazon, from clothes stores, and my favorite, her brand new pair of TOMS. If I were barefoot in a foreign country, and I received a pair of shoes because some upper middle class white American I might be a little depressed. Maybe that's the wrong way to put it, but I just want to find the child that my mom's pair of shoes are going to and say "Let me buy you a real pair of shoes, this pair was made on lies and thievery".  It makes me sad. But don't get me wrong, I love Toms, and I wish I had more money, I would buy another pair, but I don't like my mom using other peoples sympathy money for her shopping spree's.

The insurance people called her back and told her she would only get half of the insurance money, and that once they saw the repairs being made, they would give her the rest. They don't think she will use the money for repairs. Wow, these insurance people are intuitive! I love it. So of course, my mother is furious and I think it's funny. I would love a home to take pride in and not destroy, I would love an Ipad for more than to just play zombie farm, and I would love to guilt all the people around me out of money.

Last fall my car died, and you know what happened? My boss felt sorry for me, and wanted to make sure I could get to school and work, so they were going to buy me a car, or pay for my down payment. Did I except that HUGE gift and favor like my mom would have jumped on? No I thanked her and said it was something I needed to do on my own. And it was. The car I bought, I did it on my own, no one helped, and I make my payments on my own, and the car is mine. No one has helped me pay for school, or books.

Maybe I'm jealous that my mom is so good at seducing money out of people? Or maybe I'm genuinely mad that she is using the money to buy hideous designer purses that won't make her happy, but just make her feel more empty, and want MORE and MORE. I want, I always want. But I want within reason, and if I want something bigger than that I save for a few months.

Friday, April 27, 2012


Have you ever seen the movie or play? Well this post has nothing to do with that play, BUT it coincides with my main point. Doubt is a very dangerous feeling, it can be irrational, or even worse, doubt can be rational. Every one doubts, they doubt their thoughts, they doubt their plans, their jobs, their relationships, their government, or for me a lot, my own family.
Because of what I have learned about the nature of people in the past 24 years, I doubt everything. I mostly just assume everything that I'm being told about everything is a lie. And I would be a stronger person if I just went with all my instincts, but I'm also gullible. I tend to buy it when men tell me I'm the most "amazing woman" they have ever met. I can't be this to all men. SOMEONE is lying to take advantage, but who? It's much like I have found that men also tend to say "I've never lost a fight"?! Wait, am I to believe no man in the United States has ever lost a fight? Hahaha, cute.
Isn't life just all a "series of unfortunate events". Do we let some doubt slide weather it be true? Does that make me weak? Or maybe it makes me strong? I wish we were all aloud to just speak the truth to each other all the time. Yes everyone would argue more, but aren't secrets the death of intimacy? In family, and friendship, and in marriage. I'm no expert, I'm not married, but I know I'm not very good at friendship or family either. I'm better at family than friendship. I have no tolerance for women, and I cannot be friends with men, because the men you love tend to not like it. So I write, and no one reads, and I feel just as damn empty as I did before.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

THE DIET: mind over food

I'm on a pre-diet diet, stupid right? Anyway the diet before my real diet is the one I hate, It's strictly fruits vegetables or soups. The whole point is for an easy transition to three days of liquid. As a side note, I'm not dieting to loose weight or because I think I'm ugly. This week is about control, and focus. Can I watch everyone around me eat pastries, pizza, macaroni, taco's. It's only day two and I already miss cheese. Screw the meat and the pasta, BUT THROW ME SOME DAIRY. God I love dairy foods. Except drinking milk directly, that's gross. I thought when I was buying groceries for this Satan diet that I wouldn't want soup, because it is already 80 degree's in Oklahoma, but if I have to see one more flipping salad, I might stab someone with a fork.

I can see how cannibalism works.

I mean think about it, you already know all of you can't survive, and I am only on day two without meats, and I'm thinking to myself. "How bad could a person really taste?" Some cultures still practice cannibalism. You know they eat your heart to embody your soul. Man wasn't meant to live without bread. I mean if you've read the bible you know it's bread this and wine that. Well where is my filling bread? I could live on bread easier than fruits and vegetables. I'm not sure how I went from cannibals to the bible, maybe it's because dieting makes a person mentally insane, no joke. I had no idea that food had this kind of hold on me! It's rather depressing to see myself sitting around and thinking about foods, I mean shouldn't I be studying government, and not counting down the seconds until I can make a bowl of macaroni and cheese? I don't know if I have five more days of this in me, and If I do, I should get a medal of bravery.

All the things I wanted to eat today and didn't: popcorn, macaroni, bacon, taquito's, yogurt melts, extra sharp cheddar, chai tea latte, CHIC-FA-Le, chili, and spanikopita. AHHHHHhhhhhh!

Why men need the church and military

Simple answer, they grow up and see the truly important things in life. typical young men are still infused with this need to have sex with everything in motion, and OFTEN. They also take little value into their future and the need to settle down and grow up. They are so en grained with trying to prove that they are still as sexy, cool, athletic as they were in high school. They are unconcerned with compassion, labor, or giving more than receiving. Boys try to embody the men they grew to love, like football stars, or handsome uncles, when in reality, they need to become their own man and pave their own path. Making your own way is the most exciting part of growing up. The beauty of the United States is you CAN be whatever you want to be. That is a beautiful thing once it is seen. Instead of proving yourself to your guy friends, why don't you look bigger to the world?
But whatever it is that the military or religious establishments do to their men...It is good. They come back with a tremendous amount of respect for everything in their path. Respect for life, Respect for love, Respect for work, everything. I imagine church and the military have a lot in common, I imagine one thing you learn in both places, is humility. Being humble calms a man down quite a bit. Another thing is guilt. People who feel guilt and remorse for past mistakes are more likely to try to do better and be a better person, if you have no regrets and no guilt it is possible you are doomed to repeat the same mistakes. .....my rant of the day.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

2012 Election

I'm from Oklahoma, oh you know, the state that chose Santorum in the primaries, because he was white and religious. I can't tell you how many times I've talked to people in the past couple of weeks that have told me "I voted for ____ because he said I wouldn't pay taxes" "I voted for ____ because my best friend is voting for him, and she is very smart and earth friendly", or perhaps the worst "I voted for ___ because he goes to the same denomination of church that I attend". Listen people, they are all going to say they believe in God, even if they don't, also believing in God doesn't mean you are a good person, And lastly they all are ESPECIALLY going to tell you that they will lower taxes and get YOU more money. I'm not trying to pretend I know half of what politicians are about, and I'm not telling you how to vote, but please just do research, and if you don't want to don't vote. Ignorant voters could land us with the wrong president. Obama got all the minority votes, because Obama's father is Arabic Kenyan and his mother is white. The minorities where tired of voting for rich white dudes(and who isn't). Although I'm not a fan of old white men that make a ton of money and have probably never done a second of manual labor in their lives, voting for Obama simply because you think he is "black" or "young" or "attractive" is also ignorant.

I should take back that all old white presidents don't know how to work. A lot served in the army, and had jobs, and a few even struggled. Not saying I'm a Romney fan, but he went to do his 30 months mission work as a rite of passage is the Mormon community( looks like he'll get the Mormon vote, because he is Mormon). Obama also had a lot of struggles in his youth with the divorce of his parents, and then later loosing his father in an automobile accident and his mother to cancer, so he's known a different type of struggle. I guess I'm waiting for the stories of working in a factory twelve hours a day for minimum wage, struggling to put food on the table. I go into work tomorrow and work ten and a half hours straight with a bunch of spoiled, rich children, and I guess it would provide more comfort to know that I had someone in office that knows where I am coming from.

When I was in high school, my mother sent me to a therapist for a while to talk about my cutting, and my loosing weight. When I was depressed I wouldn't eat, and when I first met my therapist, she was in her late twenties and obese. I didn't see the point in talking to her, because simply reading a book that talks about cutting and eating disorders, does not qualify you to understand the way I felt when I was cutting, or how beautiful I felt the longer I went without food. Telling me to discontinue my use of metal music was not going to take away how good my addictions felt.

Isn't that what we want as a society, for someone in charge to say "listen, I've been there, I'm here to help and to promise you that life will get better and easier for you"? It's discouraging to hear of their incomes and how our current president spends more time on vacation or "teeing off" than in the white house. http://nation.foxnews.com/sean-hannity/2012/04/18/real-obama-gone-golfin is a good link to look at if you aren't well informed on the leisure activities of our president. And if you are looking for dirt on Mitt Romney, just type his name in on google lol.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

I gotta feeling

How much time should you spend on you? How much time on your family? How much time at work, and how much with the person you love? It's storming here, and over the past couple of weeks, I can't shake this lonely feeling. It's not something a beer could fix. It's not something a shopping spree could fix, because being pretty makes me feel more alone most of the time.

WHAT do I need DAMMIT!

What is wrong with me? Shouldn't I feel happy? I'm doing well in school, I have a job, I am healthy, and I have a roof over my head(damaged from the tornado, but a roof at that). I should be perfect. Why can't I shake this uneasy feeling that something is wrong? That something just isn't whole? Have I always felt this way, and it's just masked by cheap shoes and even cheaper thrills?

What keeps people so comfortable in life? Does everyone just fake happiness, or am I really the only one?

TIME...what a jerk. It comes, and it goes. It takes your beautiful memories, and replaces them with the bad memories you want so badly to forget. It takes you beautiful skin, and pulls a "hellraiser" act on it throughout time. It takes the one's you love, and it takes your breath away. I should be living it up! Have you ever watched a movie with people in their mid-twenties? Their skin glows, they are all tan and laughing, and on a beach somewhere making love. Granted, they usually die thereafter, but that's not the point.  The point is, either I'm a boring, old asshole, or the stinking news media, and movies need to stop portraying the "youth" as youth, because I DO NOT feel young, and I'm sick and tired of older people telling me that I'm so lucky and that this is the best time of my life...It isn't.

Then there was one.

He had to watch me kill myself several times a month. I obviously never succeeded, but the struggle he had to go through for years, just trying to keep my head above water and keep himself afloat as well, is excruciating to think about now. Having someone you love tell you that they refuse to live, I can't imagine that heartache. He would've stayed there and done that for the rest of his life, if I had let him. I know what cruel is like, because I used to be cruel. Much like an insecure man goes on to become to become a cop and make every one's life miserable, I had to pick the sweetest man in the world to ruin his life.
Since then I have vowed to be nice, and to not date anyone too nice.
I don't know if I really am nicer. But now I am free from all addiction, and I take care of myself now. I actually feel uncomfortable when people try to do things for me now...Guilt, it moves me.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Our Tornado

We were safe last night, which my step dad said since we were already hit, we wouldn't be hit again. At least not this year. I know everywhere you go has the potential for natural disasters, but wind that picks up cars, tree's, and houses and throws that stuff over miles? That's insane. I know it's just stuff, but most people can't just buy stuff. It's like you save all your life to get these things and a tornado takes it away in less than 60 seconds. I bet moore, Oklahoma is glad that it wasn't them for once. When they get tornado's it destroys the whole town! Our's just got a mile radius, I just happened to be unlucky enough to be in that radius. I'm still grateful no one is hurt, but what's left of the house makes me feel sad. Looking at the tree in the front yard that I climbed on as a child, my grandpa built that house! Depressing, no one in Norman slept last night, I checked Facebook on my phone and all my friends and family said they were up watching the weather until four a.m. I think our town is safe for the rest of the weekend.
If you missed the pictures, they are in blogs below.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Still worried about more tornado's

I just keep seeing peoples belongings all over yards, power-lines blocking roads, people scrambling. Our empty house covered with glass and water. Me screaming at the top of my lungs. I don't think I can do that again tonight. We have candles and water in case of another emergency. But nothing makes me more upset than people and news coming to our street to take pictures and video's of our house and the damage on the street. I don't come to other peoples houses and take pictures after a natural disaster, please don't come to mine, it's rude and it feels like no one else got damage or lost anything, so stop picking on our street. My sister showed up in the aftermath, and it was like a scene from a war movie, we ran into each others open arms and we were sobbing in each others arms. The only thing I can seem to feel is strange. Like it was a dream, like you never feel like something bad will happen to you, it really puts life into perspective:/

House hit by a tornado yesterday...

I am grateful it turned out the way it did, because if I had been home my car would've crushed by the tree that feel in our yard and blocking our entire street. The windows in the house blew out, like someone threw a bomb at the house. The fence is down and the sky was pitch black. Have you ever been so scared you almost threw up? I have. I'm still scared. The house is in shambles. I went screaming through the house calling for my step-dad. I just didn't want to be alone, I wanted to cry, but I didn't know if there were more storms to come. They say tonight in Norman will be worse, so keep Norman, Oklahoma in your thoughts please.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

People who are crazy tell everyone they AREN'T crazy

I wonder more often than not about women's hormones. About my feelings. I go through ups and downs quite a bit, and sometimes I wonder "are these thoughts and feeling real? Or are they lies that I am feeding myself to sabotage all that I have that is good?" I would love for my downs to just be lies and nothing more, but how can they be? How is it possible to lie to yourself? Shouldn't I be aloud to question everything? Shouldn't I be aloud to say "I feel sad" or "I feel confused"? Because I do feel those things, quite a bit. But more than any other feeling I get in life, I feel unsatisfied. I know that's a common feeling, but it eats away at me. I can never be too thin, never be too loved, never be too happy. I feel so unsatisfied, that I worry there will never be anything to make me feel whole.
When I felt this way as a child, I would cut myself.
I'm not a child. I can't do selfish crys for help anymore. Or any cry for help. Being an adult means not asking for help. It means you don't burden society with your problems and pathetic feelings. The world has no time for sadness or wanting. It slows down productivity. I search for things that get me "high",but nothing compared to cutting. I never did drugs when I was younger, and alcohol is okay, but never really needed it. I can only image that drugs feel the same as cutting. That it's something you're proud you don't do anymore, but you would give your left arm to feel that rush again (no pun intended). I look at the scars I've collected over the years, and I am sad I no longer have such perfect skin as I did before depression hit. All of the scars on my body are self inflicted with the exception of two. One on my back from falling off a horse, and the other under my chin from before I can remember. The rest, those are mine...those were a choice. And each scar was intended for someone in particular. The scissor marks on my right and left wrists that you would have to squint to see now, those where for my mother. The two on my upper right forearm, those were for "old times sake". The rest all had private destinations for people and feelings.
Right now, my feelings are borderline crazy. It's partially hormones because being a woman, means to be a little crazy; but the other half is that I am coming off of a high that I was on yesterday. Me high? No. Me, cut myself? Yes, well unintentionally. I was carrying a bookshelf by myself when it split into. The half I was still holding, with the force of me pushing up, went into my hand, into an artery and splattered blood everywhere. I told everyone I knew that I was in pain. Honestly I wasn't in pain, I was reliving that adrenaline rush that I have tried to duplicate with punching, exercise, or sexuality. For a few minutes I was panicked about all the blood, but once I figured that I didn't need the hospital or stitches, I was fine. I was great. The high lasted three, to four hours. But like all good feelings I came off of it, and I feel as I do right now. Empty. Sad. Needy.
There must be something I can do that doesn't involve a loss of blood. Eating blow fish? Hunting? I've tried to replicate it, and it just ends up frustrating me. The best thing I can do when I feel this way is sleep. When I sleep there is a sixty/forty chance that I'll wake up happy. Those are good odds when you are having an internal battle.
The battle within is much like a battle you'd see on a movie or video game. Someone wants someone to die, and someone would like to live. Well I would like to live, but part of me just wants to rip me to shreds. This is messed up right? Help me out here, If I'm not alone, I would love to know.
It seems like everyone I tell my feelings to, they nod blankly as if to say they are scared, or that I am being a baby and I need to take control of my thoughts. Thanks guys, love that support.
I'm dizzy in my thoughts, and I can't type as fast as I am thinking the words in my head. Am I rambling? Maybe If I say everything that I feel, I'll have nothing to feel sad about, and I'll be happy? That's not something I have ever tried.
I don't feel comfortable telling friends and loved ones that I think I may be crazy, and I don't think they like to hear anything that isn't smiles and giggles. And damn am I good at smiles and giggles! It's how I got through high school. It's how I broke so many good hearts. Maybe if I had just been comfortable to be more like me, and less like perfect barbie, I might have been happy. I might have hurt less people. I might have told some guys I dated that I didn't know why I dated them, that I didn't like them. I remember I didn't want to date Nathan, I just felt sorry for him, and Matt Hecox I dated him because I wanted to see what the popular crowd was like. I dated Richard because he wasn't in high school, and that was much better than being in high school. I dated Tres for real. He is a lot like me, an asshole, book snob, antisocial, rude. If I spent less time dating and worrying about how all these men saw me, maybe I would find myself beautiful.
I wonder what went wrong with me. and when?
Was there a moment I could go back to? My first kiss when I was in middle school? The first time I cut just a few months after? My first date in high school?
"If I find my way, how much will I find?"

Fighting between want and need

Is it wrong to wish other people weren't having fun, because you aren't having fun? I get told the same thing all the time. "Well, then why don't you come?" Because all the things I like to do are expensive, like indoor climbing, sky diving, survival classes, arcades, art classes. I don't like free sports like tossing a Frisbee or kicking a ball. I'd rather be reading or listening to music. I do have a lot of interest in being with a book club,HA, that's free. That's what I'm into. That's what makes my heart skip a beat. Artsy stuff. A pottery class, wine tasting, cooking class?! UGH why did I have to be born poor?! I would be great sitting in a huge yellow room, in a big white house, drinking tea and discussing the lower class citizens of our town.
Okay, maybe that's the wrong era, and so what if I'm one of the lower class citizens I wish I could be gossiping about over tea. I could do it. I could spend all day shopping for dresses and looking for the perfect hat to go with each of them. You don't believe me? Go look at my amazon wish list on my page, I promise you there is a big beautiful tea hat somewhere on page one. I say screw the jewels, and the thousand dollar shoes. But oh dear God, please give me dresses, and blouses, with ribbons, and hats, and stockings, and lace, all tied together with a neat bow.
"Excuse me, Charlotte" I can almost hear me calling to the maid. "The crystal has a smidgen of dust on it" Then of course Charlotte would roll her eyes, and bad mouth me with the other servants, and at the end of the story I would die, end up poor, or in jail. I've read enough fairy tales to know that the rich don't last, and the poor young women end up princesses or with a castle or manor.
I've come of age, I'm poor, I look like I could possibly be a princess turned away from love, so where are my riches? Psh, fairy tales, they are always bullshitting us. The truth is, the rich live forever in their comfy homes, while the poor struggle daily. But I honestly don't know where I would be without struggle? Struggle is who I am. It defines me. I struggle to get out of bed, I struggle to be a normal human being, I struggle to go out into the world and attempt socialization, without all that I'm nothing. I'm just like them. Do I want to be ungrateful? No, I guess not.
I guess it would be sad to loose the thrill of finding a beautiful skirt for 75% off, or going to the dollar store and realize you never want to pay more than a dollar for anything ever again. That's happiness at the tip of my fingers. But I am a woman, and I will always dream of shopping spree's in New York City, and sailing on a ship in a foreign country. I want to travel, I want to see the world, I want to experience anything and everything. I want, I want, I want...
Don't you know that wanting costs money?

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

An old poem from fall, I love this one.

You check your pulse,
just to make sure
that that spider you saw wasn't the cure.

You drank your dinner
in a bar full of beauty,
and slipped your way out of all your duties.

Your heart called,
and said it was a lie
but it had assumed you had already died.

Your writing is good when you are dead,
your writing is good says the thoughts in your head.

Old Poem(Sorry it's so sad)

I see the black,
don't worry it's hair dye.
I see your face
I worry that it lies.
I can't see the future,
I wonder why?

No I don't really wonder,
It's because I die.
I die to escape,
to escape this world.
I write to do both,
I think to the curb.

I need an appetite to grow and learn,
I need some love, it's never my turn.

In the end we are all just as bitter,
It's not remembering, or love, or glitter.
I wish it were my time to speak,
but until then I'm just suicidally weak.

Old poem: My least favorite

I take into account my favorite assets,

in case I end up in numerous caskets.

I try to be grateful for my ribs, and my nose

my height and my face and the polish I chose.

I try to think heavenly, but I'm tired of tests

It's like he's poking fun at all of my bests.

and by bests I mean efforts, I only have so many

he acts though I'm worthless, a gutter found penny.

If I had a voice,

If I had a say,

NO ONE would ever make me feel this way.

But feeling so much,

and having nothing to touch,

isn't that why we all hurt so much?

The rhyming is pure OCD,

but the anger and sadness is as real as can be.

You won't ever know the real me that walks,

because the fake me is the one who talks the talk.

I hope I can leave some faith,

that good is good, and fake is just fake.

I don't pretend to know what I'm here for,

or to wish to do anything more...

Than ask you to speak,

to any who will listen.

To make strangers hope,

to make children glisten.

We are a world full of lonely people,

be someones door, their pew, their steeple.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Sleeping Alone


My nightlight burnt out, now how am I going to sleep? Twenty-four year old still has a nightlight?  It's pathetic, I know. Maybe If you had hallucinations about spiders on your pillows, spiders on the wall, giant spiderwebs hanging from the ceiling, YOU would need a nightlight too.

Truth is though, I started sleeping with a nightlight before I had hallucinations, but now I do it because of them. I swear I'm not quite as crazy as I sound, and I only see spiders when I sleep alone. I can't tell the real cause of why I see them, I'm not deathly afraid of spiders,and  I've never been bit. As a matter of fact I just caught a spider on Friday and put it in a bug kit for the girls I nanny. I didn't have any problem doing that, that didn't make me sweat or stay up all night in the least. But when I wake up at 2 a.m. with a tarantula crawling on the pillow next to me, I get a little jumpy. The first time it happened I thought I just had spiders in the apartment, but since then I have moved twice, and I highly doubt there are spiders the size of grapefruits just climbing up my walls at night. And the spiderwebs I wake up too that look as big as fishing nets disappear after a few blinks. I have to wonder if I am a psychologists wet dream with all my "issues". But the infestation of my mind hardly effects the rest of my life, so I really don't bother with the idea of seeing someone.

I never experienced anything like this when I was little, I mean I had nightmares, and slept with a nightlight occasionally, but not like I do as an adult. They say it isn't the dark you are afraid of, it's what is in the dark, and of course that's true. No one is scared of darkness itself, but people taking you, mythical creatures, and burglars. I much prefer the daylight, even rainy days kill my joy. Have you ever heard Ben Harper's "She's only happy in the sun"? If you haven't it's very beautiful, and very true about me.

Hopefully the moon has some sweet dreams for me. Hold the spiders please.

Today is Easter and religion confuses me.

Being from Oklahoma I have adopted the stereotypical religion of southern baptist from an early age. Going to church with my family every Sunday taught me, we don't dance, we don't watch movies that are rated anything other than G(especially not Harry Potter and the witch craft in that movie), we don't date, touch, kiss, think about sex, and if we disobey any of these things we should always and forever feel guilty about how we have corrupted ourselves and we will surely go to he'll and never be forgiven in God's eyes.

Now don't let me fool you into thinking I don't believe in God. I do, no doubt in my mind that God exists and he loves everyone on the earth. I hate church. Being raised in church and being raised in public schools you soon learn, they are the SAME. The people who are beautiful and involved are popular, and there are already pre-established clicks that are hard to get into and hard to maintain.

I am not denying that there aren't good churches here in Oklahoma or good churches in America for that matter, but I really don't think I've been to one where I wasn't looked down upon for not being more involved, or for wearing crazy clothes instead of sweaters. A year and a half ago I was going through a hard time with my dead end job and complicated relationship, and so I went to church. I came in with a fake smile plastered to my sad face, I sat down on a middle row with my bible and waited to feel something. No one greeted me, sat by me or even looked at me. Wasn't that what church was for? To help? I suppose I should've said something to somebody, but everyone was so busy talking to the people they already knew. Both of our faults, but I haven't really been back but to go with my grandpa when my mom can't.

I wonder if it's possible to just believe in God and to love eachother? Because everyone has a problem with some religion, some race, some opinion. I guess that's what makes us unique. I'll say it, I don't love everyone, and I should.

Any who, Happy Easter, enough of my "Rabble, rabble, rabble"

Saturday, April 7, 2012

It's easier to build a child, than repair and adult

My mother is a psycho. When I was just a baby she and my father got a divorce, and my sister went to live with him. My sister and I are eight years apart, so when she left I had no one to take care of me anymore. On the bright side I am very independent, but on the not so bright side I am a bitter Betty about using my weekly allowance of twenty dollars to pay for basic needs and school supplies. On a few occasions I would work up the nerve to ask her for things like a year book or entry fee for competitions I got chosen for. Then I would be told "Shannon, I don't have that kind of money" or "This is a really bad time"

Guilt kept me in line and submissive.

A week ago I was doing a twelve page long autobiography in developmental psychology, so I needed to know stats about my conception, when I first walked, talked, potty trained, ect. She sat there for a second, and then she proceeded to tell me she remembered none of that stuff, and she never kept a baby book. WHAT? I'm sorry W-H-A-T? It's like I haven't been here this whole time. It's like when I said that she just noticed I was alive. No family dinners, no sex education, and now no past. FANTASTIC. What is so great about all of this is when we went places she would have no problem hugging me and patting my head and telling the whole world about my many achievements. I don't think we have ever hugged once unless it was in front of a lot of people. Talk about issues in my personal life NOW.

So I walk into my mothers house yesterday morning to find her setting up Internet for the ipad she just took from my eighty year old grandpa. I'm sorry, what happened about never having money? What happened to respecting your parents and not stealing from them. I'm sure some of you might be thinking "Oh well her mother probably came from a broken home" or "Oh her mother is an alcoholic or a drug addict". I'm sure those things would make more sense, but no. My mothers parents are good people, married for over sixty years, my grandpa was a professor, and my grandma was a stay at home mom. My mother was never beat, or never went hungry. She had my sister at 16, so she is stuck somewhere in her old childhood, and she can't get out. EVERYTHING is about her, and how sad it is that she doesn't have more money and that she has to clean up after herself, or that she has no friends. Gee ma, I wonder why?

I like to call my sister and vent all my feelings about my mother. Now that we are both older, we can just laugh about most of it. Well when I called her to tell her that mom remembered nothing from my childhood she told me that she had boxes of our baby stuff up in the attic. "That's Great" I told her. She said it would be great if she would give us any of it. I didn't understand, It was ours, why couldn't we have it?

"Didn't you know?" she said. "She still has a ton of Dad's stuff too, and lots of things with the name Hall on it. She won't let him have it or me, and I am a Hall, she isn't. I tried taking a ceramic pumpkin with the name Hall carved in it when I was younger, and she still hasn't forgiven me. Nothing she owns is hers Shannon, she thinks she's entitled to it all"

I shouldn't have been shocked, but I was. Mostly sad that I had grown up in that house and never once did she mention that I had baby things waiting for me. But they weren't ever meant for me to see, or touch, or remember, they were up there to stay hidden and rot. But I won't let that happen. She goes out of town today with my step-dad, and Ashley and I will go up there and get it. It's ours. Something I can touch, maybe spark a memory. I feel so sad, so mad, so betrayed by my own mother. I am very grateful for my older sister.

Friday, April 6, 2012

I believe the answer you are looking for is yes.

It's 11:30 on a Friday morning and I'm not at work. I should be skipping through the meadows and toasting a group full of strangers with a large glass of beer. Not me, I'm starving, pissed off, and writing a blog that no one will ever read. My bad day started out YESTERDAY when my boss texted me and told me I wasn't working my normal schedule, that I now only work from 1-6pm and get close to fifty dollars cut from my pay this week because of it. I wanted to scream at her "Some people aren't doctors, lady! SOME people have to pick up after themselves, take care or their own children, and pay their own way through school!!". Well I don't have children, but I do take pride in the other two tasks. Doesn't she know that I have to pay bills and that the first thing to suffer from my lack of pay check is my food supply?! Great another week of dollar frozen dinners. If I didn't work out and wasn't 24 years old, I may have had a heart attack from my gross diet by now.
It's safe to say I'm a pretty angry little lady. Most people can't tell by the looks of me. I was disguised with a sweet face to fool my prey, much like those beautiful poisonous frogs in the rain forest. I love those frogs. I pretend a lot, and it gets me through. I say "Oh, no I don't mind", and what I really mean is "I hate you for making me do this, and I think you are super lazy" and I am very courteous in saying "please", "thank you", and "I had fun" which all mean "give me that before I slap you" "I don't want to thank you, because you probably don't deserve to be thanked" and "I am so glad I get to go home now so I can REALLY have fun".  Is that mean? Probably. But are most people assholes? Most definitely.
One of the girls I work with had the audacity to tell me a few weeks ago, that her schedule and time was more important because she is married. She is 25, been with the same man for 6 years, and all they do is watch television and eat(heard it straight from the horses mouth), even on the weekends! Tell me HOW this makes her time more important when I go to school, then work, then home to work out, then eat something shower and go to bed to do it all over again. I would love to have the time or patience to sit in front of a television and watch the 40,000 shows she loves to explain in detail. But I don't have time, and I'm glad. I don't want to be like that, I don't want to be satisfied rotting my life away in front of the television. I want thrills, and new experiences, and pictures, and passion. Not experience those emotions through characters. Hell, I AM a character.
I think if I didn't write I would go insane with all this negativity built up inside. It's just very hard to appreciate people in this society, and let me tell you why
-People spend more time watching Twilight and Listening to Lady Gaga than bettering themselves or the world around them
-People feed their children fast food, and then sit them in front of a television, because they don't want to find something for them to do
-People would rather wait for things to be handed to them than try to go the distance to get it themselves
-People spend more money on organized sports than they do education in this country.
With all of that said, I am glad I was born in America with the freedoms we do have, but I think the freedom to be ignorant and mindless shouldn't be on that list. It's called the PURSUIT of happiness, not the "sit and wait for it to come" happiness. Every one wishes life were easier. I wish I had money thrown at me, I wish we all took care of each other, I wish everyone loved and hated all the same things I do, but that's unreal. and I get that. But do you?