I figured that I would start a new "series" for my blog. I can only think of two people that read this blog and I'm not sure how interesting this will be, but I'll give it a go and see what comes of it.

I started my college career like most other seventeen years olds from Podunk, Oklahoma. I knew that education was the only thing that going to get me out of the backwards ass town I was in, but I had no idea what I wanted to do. I started out with Psychology. I soon realized that I wasn't learning anything. I had only gained the ability to judge myself and others more harshly. Then decided I would follow my dream and go to law school. That went no where. Not for lack of motivation, but because I was informed that there were too many lawyers in Tulsa and I would finish my post-college days chasing ambulances or working for the district attorney's office. Neither of these were things that I was willing to do.

So I did what any other college student would do: Drank. In took the number of hours required for a degree, yet couldn't pass a single class. I drank so much, I failed Drama Theatre. I drank so much that the state of Oklahoma forced me to take a two year "leave of absence."

(That chapter is for another day...)

When I finally came home, I had lost everyone's trust. My own Grandparents refused to give me money for fear that I would spend it on earning DUI number two. They suggested I find a job at a call center or fast food joint and claw my way to lower middle class. They felt that someone with a record like mine couldn't aim much higher.

To add insult to injury, I was on Academic Suspension until I could bring my G.P.A up to at least a 2.0. (How sad is that?! I had managed to bring my average down to a 1.1.) I was banned from dong the only thing that I ever enjoyed. I had no money, no real job, and I had lost faith in myself. Everything that meant something to me had been stripped away. Ashamed and hopeless, I did the only thing I knew to do: I surrounded myself with low-lifes and poured a round of shots.

I refuse to lie to the world. I had a blast. I worked maybe twelve hours a week and partied about 42. I became an local superstar. People knew my name, at least. I couldn't walk into a bar, grocery store, or club without being recognized. At the time, I thought any attention was good attention. I thought that being the life of the party was something wonderful. Instead, I had become a joke to the other low-lifes.

To prove my own point.

What does "I need to start doing right by you" even mean?!

meh

I feel like one of the recent posted scrines...I'm tired of being ignored.

I know that I probably shouldn't be doing this. I know that I should probably just move home with the grandparents and be miserable for a semester before I move off the the land of the younguns *AKA OSU*. I know I could save more money living there and be able to afford better things.

But you and I and everyone else know that the situation would last MAYBE two weeks. I couldn't handle not being able to cook, not being able to enjoy my nightcap, not being able to BREATHE without someone asking me where I was going or what I spent my money on...

Back to the topic at hand, you said we might not have time to do lunch...That's fine. A girl cannot survive on bread alone; there's got to be meat somewhere.

I know I shouldn't want you like this, but it just feels so damn good. When you called today, I could picture you in that uniform. If we weren't 900 miles and 8.5 hours apart, I would have jumped you like a starving dog would jump a pork chop. Just the thought of it sends shivers down my spine.

I shouldn't be thinking about what it's like to have you. I know that when it's all said and done, I will be the one searching for meaning in every thrust, sigh, and moan. But I don't care at this point. I need you to make me feel like myself again. I need to know that I can still make your toes curl. I need to know that I am still beautiful in the eyes of the one that sparks my inspiration and fuels my insanity.

I love you. Every jagged scar, the curve of your stomach, the mole perched on your full lips... All of you.

The living contradiction that I find in you keeps me together and tears me apart. So perfectly flawed. You're a work of art created by a schizophrenic. Nothing means everything and everything holds no meaning.

Eh...I'm still smirking. I can't seem to get this stupid look off my face...You know which look I am talking about. It seems that I never get enough of you. Through the confusdark clouds and lightening, there's a little ray of sunshine and a chorus singing a ridiculously upbeat tune.

I appreciate you . I adore you. You're my end all to be all. Hopefully this all goes as planned. Wouldn't want to waste a fresh haircut and a pretty dress now would we?

just me being a baby...

All marriages are stupid and they suck. Men turn into these big whiney ass babies the minute they get a ring on their finger.FUCK MARRIAGE. I will never do it, ever.(PS Men are big irritating babies anyways...I hate them.)I love having friends that talk to me about their problems instead of deciding that I am not good enough and ignoring me. (I hate it that they have problems though.) I am actually a good listener when I want to be. What good is a friend that doesn't tell you anything at all ever?

Seriously? Thanks...It really makes me just want to curse you out.

meh

Who knew that I would be soooooooo lost without class in session?
I feel like I have nothing to do and that I should be doing something!

So, this is essentially a rant that I didn't want on MySpace because I am tired of bitching on MySpace...Because then I am obligated to read other people's rants and honestly, I don't really care what some people have to say lately.

George Clinton was AWESOME. Got to meet him. Also met a hot new guy...Then I find out he's an optimist and has kids...DOUBLE negative in my book. There is a difference in being an optimist and being easy-going. This guy is like the Easter Bunny on Meth or something. It's ridiculous. I feel like I am talking to a high school cheerleader or something. Fuck, just shut up already. I really don't think the grass is that green on your side of the pasture either.

The guests are pissing me off as well as the employees. I shouldn't be working at an Econolodge in the hood, but you know why I do it. I have a degree in this shit, but I've got to finish school before I start trying to be uppity.

Thanks for talking to me about the car. I know that it's not really you're problem anymore. I love you. You make me feel better about things usually. Whether or not you're in my life, you're still my support system...However messed up that might be.

You know, I am perfectly fine until I have to hear your voice. I can handle talking to you for a few minutes about things related to the apartment only. What I can't handle is thinking about anything related to our relationship. I really want to scream and cry and tell you to get the fuck out of my life forever, but I need that lease. I really mean it this time...That lease, that roof over my head, is the only reason I continue to deal with the bullshit. When I thought I was going to be able to move, I was perfectly fine. When I thought that I wasn't going to have to deal with you again, it didn't hurt me. I only miss you when you're in my face.

SO what the hell am I supposed to do at this point? Am I supposed to just let you sign the lease and then act like you don't exist? That's probably the right thing, but what I really want is you completely out of my life. I don't want to be forced to rely on you for anything...No matter how small.

Yeah, you were joking about the strippers, but in that instant, I almost lost it. I almost threw every ounce of self-control and strength out the window. I hung up on you because I didn't want to hear it. I almost burst into tears...Like I am so close to doing right now.

It fucking blows (and that is a gross understatement) to love someone so much that you almost break under the weight. I can't be your friend. I am not capable of listening to you brag about your meaningless sexcapades, self-destructive drug habits, or complete lack of ambition and motivation. I worry about your safety and sanity as much as I worry about my own.

Yeah, I fucking care about you. So? It's not like you can't say the same for me. You're not complete evil. If you didn't care, I know that you would treat me in the same way you treat Ambre. I am unsure whether this whole mess is a product of my stupidity or the bastard child of your undesirable qualities.

I cannot say that I do not love you because that would be saying that you never meant anything to me.

It's different. As time passes, I find myself unafraid of my life without you. Instead, the thought of my future with you terrifies me. I don't want to do this for the rest of my life with you. When you leave, I am okay. It's when you come back that I fear for my sanity and security. Every aspect of my life suffers when you are around.

It's because when you are around, you're never really there. It's a mirage...An illusion...My false hopes lead me down paths that I am no longer willing to travel.I am not doing this...I keep telling myself that, but everytime I pull myself back into it.

I love you. I always will.

But I love myself more and the sooner I realize that and put my needs before yours, the better off I will be.