approach with caution

I GOT A BELLATRIX LESTRANGE SHIRT, I GOT A BELLATRIX LESTRANGE SHIRT.
thank you walmart electronic center.

i also got a record player. yes, a record player. his name is victor, and he is my one and only love. i only have a lady gaga vinyl, but with my christmas money i've bought regina spektor, bob marley, mgmt, iron & wine, lil wayne, kings of leon(an old album), bob dylan, and the beatle's best album in my opinion, abby road. the next several weeks will consist of my running to the mailbox everyday at noon like a little kid and squealing when each one comes in, and spending the rest of the day in my roon listening to buffalo soldier on repeat. it also has a cassette deck and a cd player and a radio and an ipod hookup. i just bought 500 days of summer, so i'm pretty much never leaving my room again.

dyed my hair really dark brown, putting some blonde chunks in it maybe today.

you should see natural born killers, with woody harrelson & robert downey junior, it's a helluva film. oliver stone is a god of a director.

we talked for hours last night, we haven't talked in months. you're so much better than the one that haunts me. i'm glad things are getting better for you, and i hope that we do get to go see sherlock holmes tonight. and you do look really good with short hair. rememeber when i would try to braid your long hair and you'd get annoyed and tell me to stoppit and then bum a cigarette off of me? good times, what happened? you asked me that last night, we can have new good times.

i have a habit of getting ahead of myself.

cinema italiano

i can't wait to see nine.

being sober, finally being a neatfreak, singing outloud, musicals, kelsquared and i talking about the best things, harry potter, meeting nohomo after school. this is what my life consist of right now, and it's not bad at all. i go back to school in a couple of weeks, and i finished all of my internet school work. i'm so excited i don't have the words for it. i'm learning to live without you, and that's ok. just got over a cold and i keep smoking, so my voice sounds and feels like sandpaper. i love when my voice gets hoarse. i don't have much to say right now, but i'm pretty excited for christmas.

i like this.

i like not wearing matching socks and not washing my hair and sticking my thumbs into my earlobes and eating pepperoni/cream cheese toast and singing to myself while someone's talking to me and hoping that as i'm walking down the street someone i know will honk or wave at me and falling madly in love with every semi-handsome guy that i see in public and pinning things to my walls and making things with wire and not wearing socks and spending half an hour on my hair to make it look like i just rolled out of bed and lifting my eyes up to see what i would look like with botox and pulling over on the side of the road so i can pick a cotton branch thingy to hand-spin yarn and good films and putting cream in my tea and belting out to songs in the car because my mom can't hear me and missing you and smoking cigarettes and being drunk and wrestling with boys and being relationship free and hope and love and wishes and dave matthews band and disney movies and cover songs and cell phone charms and cooking pasta.

i know what kind of mother and woman i want to be, i just wish i knew who i want to be right now.

you are lost

the instant you know what the result will be.

so here i am at 530 in the morning, having not slept yet, at another aunt's house. apparently madre realized things are better for everyone when i'm not at home. one step closer to getting out, living with dad, gracias dios.

you're haunting me again. it's this room, the one where i talked on the phone with you this summer until sunrise, the one we technically watched together. remember when we were walking to my house after school, freshman year, and you were complaining about your life and said that you were just gonna waste away in front of the tv eating tv dinners? i should've said what was on my mind, that i wanted to be the one who microwaved them for you. maybe you would've remembered that when you left. kelsey gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind.

this isn't going as planned, i thought i found myself but quite the opposite. but according to the title of this blog, since i'm lost, does that mean i've actually found myself? i miss the little schedule i had for myself the first three weeks, with the radio and the couch and the coffee and the boyfriend. not that i miss the boyfriend or anything, i'm jussayin. i ate junk food all last week, and i'm dearly paying for it this week. and my aunt's house is not the best place for an aspiring semi-health nut.

listening to the broadway lion king soundtrack, lml.
i want to start sewing again. by hand, machines scare me.
i need to paint something, i haven't done a real piece in probably two months.
my music is starting to get stale.
switching to maxwell house for the week, folger's is losing its shine.
i am so very glad kelsquared liked my gift. :)
i hope big red feels better.



EDIT: i'm home now, feeling more in my skin. i'm starting my healthy routine. i enjoyed maxwell house coffee, i may convert. i wish the best for big red and her glutenfree lifestyle, which means more beer for me. i did a selfportrait and a painting of my grandpa, i'm pretty proud.

waiting for the weather to clear up

everything is just so jumbled and blurry right now, i need to be back in oklahoma.

i've got a perfect body

because my eyelashes catch my sweat.

i like how aware i am of the current season. my pool is covered with my neighbors leaves, and it's cute. we're actually the only ones in a 5-house radius without a single tree. it figures, my family isn't much a tree family. but when i have my own home, i'm going to have lots of trees, and give them beautiful names. i just love trees.

i'm going to kansas on sunday to stay for a week at my aunt's house, i really can't wait. she has the most adorable kids, 6 and 2. i'll be spending the next week changing diapers and playing with horsies and singing taylor swift(my aunt hates miley cyrus) and being covered in makeup, because who the hell buys a 6 year old girl a chest of makeup from fucking ulta? my aunt has a coffeemaker and hidden supply of rum & vodka i found last summer, so i'll make due.

i miss love. the new guy never gave me that chill, that drive that you did so i ended things. didn't bother me a bit, really. although him assuming that i broke up with him so i could go be with a guy in kansas really insulted me. he was quite immature. i feel freer now, i guess i do better stag.

i'm becoming quite the weird one, if i wasn't weird enough before. when you spend your days chugging coffee/reading courtney love books/watching movies about anarchist fighting clubs led by a schizophrenic, heroin addicts, vendettas, guys who drop society to walk to alaska/listening to 91.3 all day everyday it kinda changes your mind on alot of stuff. i don't think i mind, though.

i need to get back to my schoolwork, i'm like 13 assignments behind.
i have a new fascination with Nirvana.

recovery

did you know that the most mexican students know about american history is that we had 13 colonies? when no homo asked valdi who the first president was, he didn't know! i had to explain the whole 'the reason why alot of white people have an aversion to black people is because we stole them from afica and used them as slaves and then there was a big war over it' thing. i also taught him why we're all so fat. valdi is just the most amazing muchacho.

so i have a new boy, let's hope this works. i know i need to put you in the box in the back of my bottom drawer. this new one(not to objectify him or anything) hugs and kisses me in front of his friends and pays for my cigarettes and doesn't complain when i pin him down in wrestling and doesn't ignore me and stands up for me and doesn't bitch about driving to owasso and doesn't ask me if i want to buy weed or rolls or pills but tells me how much better i am without them and lets me sit up front and doesn't keep me guessing and tells me about movies i should watch. everything you never did. so yeah, this should go well. he doesn't like country music, and imma fix that. oh and total bonus points for asking me out on halloween. and those big gaugesss. i'm gushing i'm sorry.

this suspension thing is beginning to grow on me. i've seen a handful of great films and i'm reading that john lennon book that came out last year and my drug classes are a good place for socializing and visiting coachand my work's easy and i've become quite the expert on coffee.

off to watch 'requiem for a dream', so excited.

the sticky tack

is letting me down major. john and yoko just won't stay on the damn door.


bob dylan was just i don't even know. my life will never be the same. these wonderful guys next to us gladly bought me beer, and i met a lady who was prob in her late 40s, shitfaced drunk. we talked loudly in the bathroom and she said that she never wants to look back and ask herself 'why didn't i...?'. it doesn't seem important and maybe it was the alchohol but that conversation changed my life.

i keep biting my lip and cutting it on accident, i should get a mouthguard?

started my dreadlocks, i miss socializing. i miss seeing ksquared's big hair and smiling face on the way to the midhigh(that dreadful dreadful place)and ginger's sweaters and flirting with no homo after lunch and calling cheyman a mancunt and telling coach rhein how much of a douchebag he is and taping stuff to his wall and gossiping with my drama teacher and creeping on my spanish teacher and flirting in broken spanish with oscar and telling dclark my uncle says hey and calling my art teacher una punta loco and being bitches to the freshman in 4th hour and sleeping in biology and eating fries with honey mustard and cookies with milk with pookie at lunch and sneaking off after school to have a cigarette and telling marsh i want his dick and being late every morning with my coffee in my hand and flirting with the cute drama boys while avoiding the ugly ones and walking through those halls like i fucking own the place.

i'm going to teach myself the things they don't teach you in school.

dias de mi muerte.

i'm sorry mom. i'm sorry dad. i'm sorry little brother. i'm sorry really cool teachers. i'm sorry pookie. i'm sorry no homo. i'm sorry kelsquared. i'm sorry big red. i'm sorry bob dylan. i'm sorry reputation. i'm sorry dignity. i'm sorry grades. i'm sorry kelsey cooper.


i thought i was invincible, that i'd always slide right under the radar. i thought the stupid things i do and say wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass. i thought that an old purse wouldn't have old things in it.

i knew things were going too good to be true, that the cloud was going to come and spit out a tornado that sucks up my entire life.

whatever you hear about me, i ask that you don't think i'm a loser, just another pothead who liked drugs more than school. that has never been, is not, and never will be the case. when i get back i'm going to be the hardestworking person in this shitty place with shitty standards of discipline, and i'll prove everyone wrong.


i'm sorry.

hasta luego,

fall break.

hotboxing and nightly trips to downtown with my homohubby, nights with gunner, my cooking show, where the wild things are, and zombieland zombieland fucking zombieland.

i'm actually superexcited for school.


not much to say.

i've got to admit

it's getting better, it's getting better, since you've been mine.

lets hope and pray and wish this works,
i need this and i need you.



it's fall, that means moviebuff season.


UPDATE: you didn't grow up, and i don't need you after all. :)

we are bound by symmetry

i don't feel wanted. when everyone in your family tells you they can't stand you, it's hard to. everyone tells me don't listen to them, you're smart and funny and creative. but they haven't known me for 16 years, they don't live with me. when your own mother tells you you're annoying and bitchy, it's hard to convince yourself otherwise. i try so fucking hard to help people, make them think otherwise of me, like me, be excited for what i'm going to think about a bag they bought or band they discovered, and then i come home to being the scapegoat the underachiever the troublemaker. i'm counting down the minutes until febuary, when i can move in with my dad and finally be fucking happy for the first time in a year.


of course i picked up the phone. of course i kept the conversation going. of course i said i wanted to hang out. of course i invited you to bob dylan. of course i stayed up all night talking to you. of course we'll hang out this week. of course i'll kiss you for the first time in two years. of course my knees will get weak like when we kissed the day i got back from japan. of course i'll fall in love with you all over again. of course you'll tell me that you don't love me back. of course i'll die again. of course i know all of this is going to happen and i'm going to fucking do it anyway because the withdrawal is worth the high.
when we got off the phone the other night, you apologized for canceling our plans and you listened to me cry about my home and you said i have to go to sleep now but i hope everything gets better for you i really do, and i said goodnight and hung up the phone and cried for an hour. i haven't cried over you in over a year but i just couldn't stop. i wanted to call you and tell you all the things that weren't said between us and how much i miss you and love you and i wish i hadn't had anyone since you because you're the most important thing to me and i think about you all the time and hope you're well and that you're thinking about me the same way i am about you but you're probably not.

on the bright side, i got my fucking bob dylan tickets today. the best best seats were sold, but i'm up front on the nearest part of the balcony, so i'm pretty psyched. i don't think i've ever been more excited about a show in my life. kings of leon elton john and the Inauguration Concert combined can't compete with bob dylan. and no homo made me a wonderful cd, with some decemberists, mewithoutyou, manchester orchestra and regina spektor and i must say i can't stop listening to it.

have a good one.

you say yes i say no

i'm regaining my confidence, i guess i just do better with brunette curly hair.
ugh what did i just do?! i just now texted z a compliment, he doesn't deserve them! i'm just lonely, i guess.
- isn't coming back to town, he's never coming back, no matter how many times i call or wish or beg god or cry or scream. i watched a movie the other night that reminded me so much of him, i almost stopped it. but i just can't resist the whole squeezing lemons on a knife wound thing. i'm sick, sorry. not as sick as parker, goodness that boy makes me laugh until i pee a little.
i miss my pookie, i'm glad we're working on hanging out more. there's just some things i can tell her that kmac wouldn't understand or care about. like the fact that i used a different hairspray this morning or switched bronzers or that one boy that said something to me and we try to decipher what it means. we can talk about each of the previous for like ten minutes apiece. but she doesn't understand the difference between a 6b or a 4b graphite, or a bomb thrift store i found out about.
i need sleep, enjoy yours.


ps-i very very much enjoyed the stupid rambunction function with the people that are reading this. and that wrinkly old crossing guard is a dumb cunt, everyday is a fight with myself not to shove her infront of an suv.

and life goes on

within you and without you.

freshman and sophmore year? ain't shit. i'm a junior, a junior. i remember being in 4th grade and wishing being so excited so ready to be a grown up 5th grader. it's september 15th of 200fucking9 and if this and next year go half as quickly as fresh and soph, i don't know what i'm going to do. the only arrangements that i have as for my first out-of-home-home is that i'm going to have the beatles version of rock band so i can get stoned and play *'within you without you'. which i'll be doing after christmas, anyway. i started school a month ago thinking i was going to be this person, and i've changed more and less than i thought i would within the first month. my current best friend drives a '92 dodge spirit and skips lunch to save money for camel wides, which is my new vice. i quite literally throw on whatever is on my floor and write jokes as answers to biology homework. i'm so so so self-conscious though. i wish i didn't have to treat my hair or check myself from every angle or reanalyze everything before i say it or worry if that look she just gave him was about me but i just do. i was 'dating' a guy, but told him i don't want to hang out with him anymore. he doesn't smell like -, doesn't hug or kiss or make sarcastic communist jokes like -, doesn't have that sparkle in his eye or understnad me or piss me off like -, doesn't become one with me or throw me or give me chills like -. i miss my old art class, more than you could know. i miss the kelsquared and talking about bob dylan and obama and warhol with the mac, having freedom in my work, the looks and silent jokes kelsquared and i gave each other when the weird kids talked to me and did their weird things. i am infatuated with my spanish teacher who **es muy muy guapo y un liberalo!! sarah calls me a creeper. my art teacher told me i should submit an AP portfolio to apply for the college credit, but i've seen the others' work and i have no faith that i can do it but hey it wouldn't hurt to try. god kierst is just so amazing, she worked on this piece for like 4 hours and only had the outlines and the upper face done. and it looks JUST LIKE the photo. not like 'oh, that looks just like the photo, i mean it looks like someone just black-and-whited the photo. i tell her i can't wait until she graduates so i can consider myself a decent artist again.


*'within you without you', i just don't know how i didn't know about this song until last week. you must must look it up, listening to it makes everything sound like utter trash.
**my broken spanish for 'is very very handsome and a liberal!'

slappin da bass

my hair is getting long, i need to sit down and write a good damn blog.

just give me a few days and i'll have one.

and you've got a smile that could light up this whole town

i am secretly obsessed with taylor swift.
school starts tomorrow, i need this new start. i will make good grades this year and not let my troubles get in the way. i'm even more excited for art class, but i wish i had the mac, that man is just something else. i ended my summer with a beer and a marlboro, not too bad. i'm somewhat proud of myself for not making this like last summer, getting loaded every other day. i've been sober over a month now and it feels like a weight lifted off of my shoulder. not drinking coffee to cover my breath not soaking myself in fabreeze not pouring half a bottle of eyedrops into my eyes. i do miss it sometimes, being a social butterfly being a flirt. i absolutely hate flirting. it makes me feel cheap.
and nobody i meet seems to compare to you, anyway. in the last two years i've only compared three guys to you, and i still would've picked you. when we talked on the phone until 5 that night and you said those things to me i got high from your words. remember when i told you that you look like john lennon when you wear your glasses and then you kissed me and said i would be your yoko and we'd lay in bed all day and just be? you're like a ghost- i want to talk to you see you touch you kiss you but you disappear into thin air. i need to move on, it's not healthy. you're so beautiful and smart and funny and you fucking introduced me to the beatles. nobody gets me like you do. but nobody has broken me like you have. and now that we're talking again and you said you still care for me has given me another reason to breathe. but i'm not a princess and this ain't a fairytale.

naked/then and now

i read something someone wrote today that made me feel a pain and a worry i never fucking knew i had. i cried hard, and the rest of this post was just screaming at me to write it. i'm the kind of person who says what i think not what i feel and hopefully having this wonderful little blog will help me grow out of that, i don't think i'm very good with words. also don't like sharing personal personal things, especially on the internet. i don't want your pity, i just need to write this because it wouldn't be sufficient to leave it in a folder deep inside my laptop.

-

i lived in the typical American family. in those days, that meant a loving mother, a doting father, a few kids in a two story house with a dog, a cat, and an suv(in our case, a trailblazer). my parents worked a 9-5 while the kids were at school, and we'd have dinner together every night. my older brother would play with his Legos while i played with my Barbies as the baby was put to sleep. i listened to britney spears and nsync and watched rugrats and reading rainbow, and cigarettes and alchohol and drugs were something i would never ever do. i loyally said the pledge of alleigence every morning at school and played soccer on Saturday mornings, my little self stumbling after the ball while the whole family watched. Mommy and Daddy were perfect, and so was the world.

until the 21st century, when the definition of typical American family was redefined.
my parents are now divorced. because sometimes couples fall in love with other people and they fight and they do things they shouldn't and women who love women decide to hide it and bottle it up for twenty years so they won't disappioint their family. i watched my dad pack his things and the scar is still sore. my dad still works a 9-5, but comes home to an empty apartment every night. my mother glues her ass to her home office chair and her hand to her blackberry while her sons spend their day working on their dragsters and her daughter runs about town doing the things she told herself she would never ever do. i constantly question our rights and governemnt and what this country really does stand for. i wake up hungover on Saturday mornings stumbling to the shower or flipping shit on how i'm going to get home before my mom finds out i didn't really stay the night at A or M's house. i feel sorrow for my Daddy, and i can barely look my mother in the eye half the time because of that wretched woman she brought into my life. Mommy and Daddy are not perfect, and neither is the world.

the year 2009 changed my definition of family.

i have two years left of being a child, but i don't have the protection of my loving parents. my parents are already split up. my older brother is moving to stillwater next year. my mother got a job offer in austin and if she gets it then she's going and taking my little brother with her. i'll be here with my dad. at first it didn't bother me too much that they'd be moving. but after the thing i read today, i'm absolutely dreading the day my little brother leaves me. he's ten and is about to be a young man, and needs a big sister to show him how to get girls. today just the two of us spent the morning at the beach and he asks questions, alot of them. my heart melts when he asks me political questions, i'm sure you know why. as we were walking down the road to get ice cream i gave him the biggest hug, and when he asked what that was for, i said 'because you're my brother'. i was at the hospital when he was born, i helped teach him how to ride a bike, i called those punks that tried to take his money, and it never hit me how special all of that is until today. when he moves, how will he take to being an only child? will he cry because he misses us? will he even miss me?

ok i can't write anymore.

rather than love, than money, than faith, than fame, than fairness, give me truth.

Get me out of this town. Not the cliche 'get me to a big city', that's even worse. Most people in this place don't realize that is possible to live without money, nice houses, businesses and credit reports, standards, expectations, and divorces. There can be a place where it doesn't matter who you voted for, where you buy your clothes, or what wine you drink.

At the art thing I went to in Talequah a few weeks ago, I was with a bunch of kids from towns I've never even heard of, and they'd never heard of the BOK Center. One of the girls asked me if I was popular at my school, and I said no, in fact I consider myslef an outcast. She said "How are you not popular at school? You're like, really popular here." My best friend there, we'll call her K, used to go to my school so we hit it off right away. We joined a small group of other outgoing vulgar stoners and before we knew it there was practically a waiting list to sit with us at meals. The other kids there wore clothes that weren't from a mall, not even Kohls, and yet nobody cared. At Owasso, God forbid you wear something that isn't from the right place! Even with this whole white vneck and vintage trend it still has to be the right fit, the right style. I walk down the halls and when I see someone the first thing I can think of about them is negative, except for friends of mine or people I just adore. 'You can see her fat rolls', 'Her hair's fried', 'I heard she's a lesbian'. I don't mean to do that but that's what I've been trained to do. Or maybe I'm just that fucking shallow. Kids in smaller towns aren't as critical, because they don't know that they know that life's too short and you need to appreciate the people who come into your life, because they're there for a reason. Now that I just realized this, I'm going to begin applying it to my life.

So anyway,

When I was at camp we did this this thing called survival day. We(the other interns and I) packed all of our stuff onto canoes and spent 30 hours across the lake, living on the land. We cleared a camping spot and made our meals over fires. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life, but it changed me. The most trying day of my life, is life for more than half the people on this planet. When I came home, it almost sickened me that I lived where I do.
I'd love to do what Christopher McCandless did. After he graduated from college, he left his rich Georgia family, gave his life savings, and literally burnt his college money, and walked to Alaska. He lived off of the land and Thoreau quotes, and did odd jobs to pay his way out there. After a year or two of traveling he finally got to the Alaskan wilderness and lived in an abandoned bus, but only lived about half a year before he starved to death. He completely abandoned society. He left his car in the middle of the desert, burned his SS card, driver's license, lived off the grid.
I could never be be as fucking radical as he was, but I wouldn't mind being that lady he stayed with(played by the wonderful Catherine Keener). She and her husband lived in an RV and drove around the southwest, stopping at bohemian campgrounds and selling records, calling everything by its right name.