writing

bitch, political, writing
the state of things.
08.20.08 | Permalink | 2 Comments
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I’ve tried to write this as.. non-vulgar as I can, but it simply cannot be done. That’s your warning.

You know, it’s pretty pathetic that we reward our teachers with the wonderful present of depression come September. Even the FACT that a quote such as “Those who can’t, teach.” exists is repulsive. In a country that holds education so high, we really fuck our lower education schools and teachers.

Here are our problems:
So you wonder about my rage. You wonder about my worry, this is why. And this is probably only half of it. I’m not privy to the real politics or struggles that go on in schools each day, this is an outside, slightly-biased view. I see teachers crying before the school year. Not one. Plural. Teachers, because they know what they face this year.

And it’s the same as every other year.
miscellaneous, movies, writing
review four.
07.21.08 | Permalink | Comment?

man, i should do more of these, i watch a shitload of movies.

—

you don’t mess with the zohan: funny. well, half funny. adam sandler’s getting very formulaic now: funny movie, rob schneider in it in some fashion (he is an awful actor, stop fucking giving him work.), cutesy ending where everything is a-okay. the first half was actually really good, pretty funny. i was laughing. but then the plot actually came back into it and it turned into a huge “ugh god just end the movie already.” festival. i wasn’t expecting punch drunk love, but shit, enough with the same old crap.

5/10 - half of a good score for half of a good movie.

—

harold and kumar escape from guantanamo bay: neil patrick harris makes this movie. i couldn’t give a flying fuck about the other two. it’s funny to see the situations they get into, but they were going after some girls that, again, i couldn’t give a fuck about. this is a turn your brain off movie, i know, and maybe if i smoked pot i’d get it. i’ve done my share, but maybe you have to be on it to really laugh.

3/10 - i’d go out with neil patrick harris, no shit. all three points are for him.

—

king of california: now this is the kind of movie you’d expect me to watch. michael douglas pulls off batshit insane perfectly. really fits in the dramedy kind of field, as it has its funny parts, it’s also that awkward funny. not as bad as curb your enthusiasm or anything, just barely. i’m torn between really wanting to have a resolution at the ending and leaving it up to my own brain to dwell on as to what really happened. i like resolution, and this just barely gave me enough to go on.

8/10 - i’m gonna go dig under sam’s club for shits and giggles.

—

in bruges: another ‘my’ kind of movie like the above. and another dramedy. god, i hate that word. from now on it’s drama/comedy. anyway. this was a tough movie to watch, especially near the end. it’s the kind of grit-your-teeth ending. not an action movie, though. also, midgets are hilarious. there goes my credibility as a real reviewer.

7/10 - ralph fiennes is still dreamy. also, “back off, shorty!”

—

the onion movie: holy shit, this was AWESOME. a bit late in its delivery of most of its ‘current event’ jokes, but blame that on the studio that held it back, then sent it direct to video. in any case, knowing the real outcome of the situations that spawned these jokes really only help to further the comedy. the fact that steven seagal can poke fun at himself makes it even more enjoyable. it’s not perfect, far from it, but it was funny, and while it may not be as dry and witty as the onion usually is, i’m sure they had to dumb it down to appeal to (what they thought was) a movie theater audience.

8.5/10 - “i don’t think you’ve got the BALLS.”

—

these reviews were pretty weak. they probably all are. but it’s writing, and i love doing that.
bitch, miscellaneous, writing
retraction.
04.06.08 | Permalink | Comment?

regarding this post, specifically the bottom:

i thought about it some more, and to dismiss aspberger’s altogether is stupid of me. does it exist? of course it does. do people have it? of course they do. does everyone have it that claims to have it? no, not in the least. i’m sorry you’re an awkward kid, but just because you think someone thinks you might have it doesn’t mean they can blame your problems on it.

happens with a lot of kids that are ADD/ADHD, i think. we’re trigger-happy to slap kids on medication rather than try and find an outlet for this kind of behavior. a different school, a different subject, a different interest

this talk by sir ken robinson is a perfect example. he makes mention that if the woman who was the choreographer of cats and other broadway plays had grown up today, in our time, that she wouldn’t have been taken to a dance school, shown that she WASN’T sick, she was looking for an outlet; she would have been given ritalin and told to sit down and shut up.

so these sicknesses exist, yes, but to jump to their diagnosis before exploring other options is cruel and often detrimental. in some cases, to blame a child’s problem on ADD/ADHD, and even sometimes aspberger’s is to take the problem, put it in a cupboard and lock it, satisfied that the problem is ‘dealt with’.
bitch, miscellaneous, political, writing
let’s rant about political correctness again!
04.04.08 | Permalink | Comment?

http://www.freewebs.com/bannedwords/

how sad. some of them i can understand, when it was before women’s rights. but look at some of these words, just from the A’s:

Alcoholic: replace with individual with alcoholism

here i thought that’s what that meant. when did that shit become offensive?

Adam and Eve: replace with Eve and Adam to demonstrate that males do not take priority over females

what. for one thing, i’m surprised that’s in any US textbook in the first place, secondly, you’re now placing females over males, and thirdly WHO FUCKING GIVES A SHIT.

to the b’s! no, we’re not going through them all.

busybody: banned as sexist, demeaning to older women

really? really? is that what you think of when you hear the word busybody? i think of someone who’s just really freakin’ crazy busy. in fact, when i read the word the first time, i thought of a 20-30 year old woman. is that old? shit, i’m getting old.

Blind leading the blind: banned as handicapism (NYC)

how can they get offended if they can’t see the words?

sorry, sorry. that was a joke. it goes on..

God: banned
Devil: banned

but adam and eve - excuse me, eve and adam are okay? sure, why not?

Huts: banned as ethnocentric, replace with small houses

so it’s like.. two story suburban, but only just big enough for a mouse to live in! right? right? right.

Little person: banned as offensive, replace with person of small stature

okay, this shit has got to stop. midget to dwarf. dwarf to little people. little people to person of small stature. PICK A FUCKING DESCRIPTION AND DON’T GET OFFENDED BY IT. next it’ll be genetically altered person of significantly decreased height. rolls right off the tongue, doesn’t it?

one or two general expression no-nos:

Girls can’t… (MMH)
Women can’t… (MMH)

pee standing up. well, they can, but they have to bend kinda backwards, spread their legs, it’s a very messy endeavor, and usually avoided.

barring that last one, a lot of the shit on these lists makes me want to put a bullet in my brain, and i’m too tired of this crap to go through and find really good ones, just the few that stuck out..

FUCK, it’s no wonder the kids at the elementary school in town don’t know fuck-all about anything. i have to wonder if they shouldn’t KNOW all this anyway, know WHY it’s bad, know WHY people are offended by it. like knowing WHY women or black people or any other race wanted more rights and what they had to go through to get it, what they were called, what they were subjected to, what was expected of them before, and how they got it.

you LEARN more if you FEEL it. if it hits home. you remember if you’re offended.

so get the fuck over it.

edit: and where’s the fag/faggot/queer/dyke terminology? guess they don’t give a fuck about the homos! that or it’s an old list. can’t be THAT old, look at the printing dates at the bottom.
bitch, miscellaneous, writing
our country is ‘exceptional’
03.06.08 | Permalink | 1 Comment

do you know what they call retarded kids now?

exceptional children.

exceptional children.

EXCEPTIONAL. FUCKING. CHILDREN.

can i tell you how angry this shit makes me? call them mentally challenged. call them developmentally hindered. CALL THEM FUCKING RETARDS, FOR ALL I CARE. do NOT sit there and lie to me and say they are exceptional.

ex·cep·tion·al (ĭk-sĕp’shə-nəl) pronunciation
adj.

1. Being an exception; uncommon.
2. Well above average; extraordinary: an exceptional memory. See Usage Note at exceptionable.
3. Deviating widely from a norm, as of physical or mental ability: special educational provisions for exceptional children.

it’s even changed the goddamn definition of exceptional in the merriam-webster dictionary.

WHY.

WHY.

WHY.

how long will it be before the meaning of the word exceptional is equated to retarded? exceptional used to be a great word. FANTASTIC word. EXCEPTIONAL word. it meant great, better than great, awesome, fantastic, absolutely unheard of. but you know what it really meant?

better than.

that’s right, when you think of the word exceptional, what do you think? you did exceptional work, great work, the best work i’ve seen in a while. you’re an exceptional friend. you’re my best friend, someone who is always there. you are an exceptional artist. your art stands above all others.

now look what it represents. you can call me bigoted all you want, you can fuck right off. i don’t give a shit if you call them gifphotozymorphics, do not lie to me, do not take PC to a level that it cannot possibly represent. PC is meant to change the word into something socially acceptable, but still. fucking. understandable. retards. mentally challenged. midgets. little people. but guess what? you can’t call a midget a big person, can you? and that’s what you’re doing by calling them all exceptional children.

they have special classes, they have special activities, they have special work. here’s a CHART for those of you who think i am dancing around the issue.

godly
exceptional
good
average
poor

where do mentally challenged kids go? that is up to you.

here’s where i think they go.

godly
exceptional
good
average AND mentally challenged
poor

THAT’S RIGHT, SHITHEADS. a mentally challenged kid can be exceptional. CAN BE. they are not ALL exceptional. just like an average kid can be exceptional. again. they are not ALL exceptional. they are separate because they have trouble with interaction, or learning, or simply getting along. it doesn’t mean that they are utterly stupid, nor does it mean they are automatically one level below albert einstein, which is what exceptional fucking means.

take it as you will, i don’t give a fuck. call me prejudiced, who gives a shit.

and you know what? i think aspberger’s is a load of bullshit too. you know what they called those kids when i was growing up?

AWKWARD.

god, sometimes i hate this country.
bitch, miscellaneous, whine, writing
if you could see my face right now.
02.09.08 | Permalink | 2 Comments

cleaning out my bookshelf led to the discovery of like.. four different written journals from 99-02 and it was fucking. pathetic. like, i was the epitome of emo. EPITOME. it was embarrassing to the point of wondering if i could burn these things when i was done.

every goddamn entry was something about dad and how i hate him, boohoo slit wrists WHO GIVES A SHIT. i was an angst-ridden fuck back then. i’m still angsty, but usually not about that anymore. sure, i’ll have emo entries here now and then, but shit, they’re not as whiny as they were. at least i’d like to hope so.

i still think i was stupid for letting marianne go, though.
miscellaneous, movies, writing
review three.
01.21.08 | Permalink | Comment?

more reviews. more stupid opinions.

—

beowulf: a little late to the party on this one, but this movie was.. awful. the original story was good, i can get behind that. but good stories don’t always make for good source material for movies. if they had filmed it normally? maybe. maybe they would have pulled it off. but the mix between facial acting and computer-generated-everything-else left it square in the depths of the uncanny valley, making me feel uncomfortable and left it looking like it was trying to be a serious shrek.

3.5/10 - yawnfest. and weird looking.

—

quiz show: good movie. i loved ralph fiennes performance and john turturro was great at making me hate him, great at being a weaselly little shit that you wanted to kick in the nuts at the end. i’ve behind-the-scenes true stories, especially about the beginnings of something (in this case, television and game shows). it was good, but it could be a little slow at some points.

8/10 - ralph fiennes is so dreamy.

—

aachi and ssipak: how the fuck do you classify this? before i tell you about it, think FLCL and multiply it by.. a thousand. here’s the imdb summary: “In a future where energy is made from fecal matter, the government rewards defecation with “juicybars”. Small-time hustlers try to get rich while fending off the mutated Diaper Gang.” how do you review something like that? great animation, crazy as fuck, go watch it.

8/10 - i feel strange leveling this with quiz show up above, but that’s just how i roll.

—

juno: GREAT movie. don’t think of it as “oh teenager gets pregnant drama drama drama resolution all’s well that ends well” kinda movie. it’s smart, and funny, and deserves all the glowing reviews it gets. there’s a strange air around ellen page that was a little weird, all this mature crap spouting out of the mouth that looks like she’s 14 (go see hard candy for an example of that) and leaves her feeling like the reincarnation of tatum o’neal in paper moon. you should see this movie, if only for the music matching so well.

9/10 - jason bateman is dreamy too. is this place getting too gay?

—

shoot ‘em up: this was awful. but it knows it’s awful, so it goes with it. and if you go along with knowing it’s awful, it can be good. unfortunately, no one told me it would be tongue-in-cheek awful, so i was left feeling.. you guessed it, awful. wanna see tits and people being shot for 86 minutes (yeah, it’s pretty short)? then go see this movie. otherwise, eh. snoresville.

2/10 - tits and violence only go so far.

—

tada, my opinion, not yours, but if you’re reading this you might care about my opinion. so there you go!
miscellaneous, movies, writing
review two.
01.11.08 | Permalink | Comment?

haven’t done one of these in a while. here’s a few movies i’ve seen lately.

—

national treasure: book of secrets: was only slightly awful. nicholas cage has these movies where he’s awful, and maybe that’s the writing, but he’s gotta learn to pass on things like this. go back to doing shit like raising arizona. though his cameo in the grindhouse trailers and his role in bringing out the dead were both pretty decent. the plot was.. pretty thin, but then again i guess they didn’t have much to work with when it comes to hiding shit in historical documents. how many times can you do invisible ink before it starts becoming a tad.. stale? yes, people should understand history, and this could be viewed as mildly educational.. probably more than it was entertaining.

4/10 - p.s. there’s a map on the inside of the pentagon. go find it.

—

charlie wilson’s war: would probably been better if i had any idea what was happening for the majority of the movie. if you have no background on what charlie wilson did or who he was, you’ll be left pretty confused. considering the time this movie came out, i was given the impression that all the shit we’re dealing with in afghanistan, we brought on ourselves, considering what we did for them - granted it was to help us in the short run, but fucked us in the long run. is that right? i’m pretty ignorant. anyway. tom hanks was awesome, philip seymour hoffman was even better, but it was all ultimately very forgettable.

7.5/10 - i should pay more attention to politics. though i was just a kid when this all happened.

—

the bucket list: i’ll admit, i had man tears at the end of this one. this movie was good. one of those heart-warmer-type flicks. jack nicholson is great back in comedy like he was in as good as it gets and something’s gotta give. as a person who thinks he’s living with quite a few regrets, at least watching characters cross off said regrets off their OWN list was pretty satisfying. it was good, but that’s all it was, really, when i look back on it.

9/10 - maybe i should make a bucket list of my own. but that’s pretty morbid to do when you’re 25, right?

—

wristcutters: a love story: was fucking weird. i mean, i guess it makes sense that suicides would end up either a) in hell, if you believe the bible or b) in purgatory in about the same life they led before, if you believe in karma. is that how reincarnation works? buddhists are strange. and why is shannyn sossamon hot in whatever she does? i think she’s hot period. and i can’t picture this kid from almost famous playing any other role. in fact, i don’t think he does. the bewildered teenager in some crazy situation. wait, there was a plot? oh, right, they fall in love. something like that.

4/10 - would have been a 3, but dude, it had will arnett in it.

—

no country for old men: holy shit. the coen brothers have this unnatural way of making their movies so.. goddamn creepy if they want them to be. the main assassin for one. creepiest dude in a movie i’ve seen in a long, long while. i argued with paul that my only real beef with this movie was how.. well.. i can’t tell you. it was something that was very important, at least to me, and it was off-screen, and felt.. inconsequential to the coen brothers. paul said that’s how they do things. well fuck you, coen brothers, you just lost half a point. ‘cos i’m sure you care what a moron on a blog thinks. anyway, if you can get past the bloodiness of this movie, it’s crazy awesome.

9/10 - you keep runnin’ that mouth, i’m gonna take you in the back and screw you.

—

there you go. five movies i’ve seen lately. i’ll do another five sometime later.
bitch, family, friends, miscellaneous, photography, writing
florida.
10.22.07 | Permalink | Comment?

I haven’t used a computer at 20,000 feet since.. Vegas? Maybe Vegas. Maybe it’s not even 20,000 feet. Ten, or fifteen. In any case, that’s where I am, ‘cos our family went down to Orlando for the weekend for my sister’s friend’s (Amy’s) wedding. My sister was the maid of honor.

On Friday, we left and picked up Gwyn and Mandy, and headed to Kinston for our el-cheapo flight. I had been on the fence about going in the first place, but the ticket had only been about a hundred bucks, so.. fuck it. Upon arriving there, they told us that the only flight going out of the airport that day – ours – was delayed, late in taking off from Florida. Gwyn, not a good flier anyway, had already taken her valium, and we had some time to kill. We headed out of the airport and to a bar for about 45 minutes.

Thirty-five thousand feet. That’s what my gay flight attendant dude said we’re at right now. Anyway back to the story. Leaving Kinston late left us arriving in Florida late, which meant we were late for the rehearsal dinner, though I don’t think they really rehearsed at all. Just an excuse to go to dinner. Luckily, the restaurant had delayed them as well, so we caught a break and arrived as they were ordering drinks.

Unfortunately for me, it was a crab shack. Fulton’s, near Pleasure Island. I look at the menu, seafood, seafood, seafood.. crappy non-seafood, so on and so forth. I think, well.. shit, if I’m gonna get sick trying seafood again, it might as well be GOOD seafood that I am not paying for in a nice location. So, I ordered 1.25lbs of Alaskan King Crabs. Expecting the worst, it really wasn’t that bad. It was nice to have crab again, and though abundant, the meat was pretty tasteless for some reason. Not how I remembered it. No real repercussions, it did hurt my stomach a little since it was pretty rich and I hadn’t had seafood in. .five years? Something like that.

SO, after dinner, we were so close to Pleasure Island, everyone decided to go for a drink. Now remember, this is around 18 people. We head to an Irish bar where I get a crappy Guinness that tasted like it was the bottom of the keg. Amy and everyone caught up more, and took some strange pictures of people groping other people.. I think they were pretty much on their way buzzing already. I know Mom was. After realizing the true Irish do not reside in Disneyworld, we left the bar and walked over to the Beach Club themed bar. I got suckered into dancing with pretty much every damn girl that was there since no other guy would. They got drinks, danced, smoked, AND took Jello shots. Yeah. And according to them, or what they remember, anyway, it tasted like they made it with pure grain alcohol and just a little bit of sugar/flavor. They were that strong.

Considering everyone had to be at a wedding the next day, we didn’t stay that long, and around 1:30 we left. I hadn’t drank much at all that night, so.. I drove. I drove five drunk-ass giggly, crude girls around Disneyworld to different hotels. They talked, listened to music, drunk-dialed people on their phone – only to find out the people they dialed were drunk as shit too. We dropped Amy off and headed to our lowest-of-the-low-on-the-bus-line hotel (don’t get me wrong, it was fine, but years of staying at the Grand Floridian have probably spoiled me for Disneyworld). They check in, we drag our shit into the room and go to sleep. That was Friday.

Saturday, I wake up late and find everyone already busy doing their hair or whatever it is they do. I take a shower, pull on a shirt and pants, tada. I’m done. PS, I would punch someone in the face for a cigarette right now. What the fuck happened to smoking flights? They’re having their wedding at the Swan hotel, so we climb back into the rental car and go. They apparently can’t have the wedding outside for some reason like Amy wanted, but so they put her at the end of a corridor in the conference center. It sounds like shit but it was okay. It was a little strange to realize later that you could see them getting married in front and if you look to the left, the Tower of Terror was looming just past the trees. SO! Everyone’s married, happy, blah blah, let’s drink. We do, people dance, the staff seemed to have an affinity for stealing your half-eaten plates and half-drunk drinks, forcing you to go get another (not that it mattered, I suppose, considering it was free). The party ends around four thirty, and we all split to go change. We head to Downtown Disney for dinner and shopping – both of which blew. Wolfgang Puck’s restaurant can suck a dick, pizza is pizza, and has the same basic ingredients, don’t call it pizza and make it something else. The shopping was all of ten stores, ludicrously overpriced shit you certainly didn’t need, and every gift shop was the same. Picture frames, keychains, pins.. oh Jesus, the pins. PINS EVERYWHERE. So, sickened by the dinner and bored of the rest, we head to the Boardwalk to go to this dueling pianos bar. Here’s where it starts getting interesting.

Now, we get there early. About.. 9pm, and they can’t seat all 18 of us. We were the first ones there, (we sat Mom, Katy, Gwyn, myself, and Mandy – in that order) so we go in and just sit on a row of about 8 stools, holding the rest for who we can. It turns out that it wasn’t too bad standing around, the pianists made it interesting, but every now and then I’d look to my right and see Mandy staring at me and the rest of us. I’d wonder about that, then go back to the show. The older crowd decided they wanted to turn in early (except Mom) and headed out, leaving us and Chris, Amy, and Chris’ friend. And Mandy. Not singing, not smiling. Clutching her bag like someone in this place is going to steal it out from under her. Not even under her, FROM her. Staring at us. We continue to have a good time, watching this fat woman jiggle everything that jiggled whenever she heard a song she liked, and a flamingly gay dude slapping just-as-big women on the ass while he Riverdanced.

And she kept staring. She asked me if there was a bus that ran from the Boardwalk to our hotel. I told her probably not, she’d have to grab one from the hotel to an attraction, then the attraction to our hotel. Or take a taxi for seven bucks. She sort of shrugged and went back to not having fun. At one point, she went up to Mom, grabbed her wrist and turned it round looking for the watch face. Looking at it, she asked if we had any intentions of leaving soon. Mom said she didn’t know, and Mandy once again wandered off to not have fun. She didn’t drink, she didn’t dance, she didn’t sing, just.. sat there. Gwyn had requested Bohemian Rhapsody and was at the bar when they started to play it. I didn’t want her to miss it, so I grabbed her camera and started recording video. I couldn’t get a good view from my seat, so I get up and walk to the right a bit, and ask Mandy to sit in my seat til it was done. Gwyn comes back and I still record, til the bouncer dude tells me I can’t. Pictures ok, video not. Whatever. I sit in Mandy’s seat ‘cos I didn’t want her to feel like I was forcing her back out and as soon as I looked over, she had perked right the fuck up. She got what she wanted, to sit and talk with whoever *I* was sitting and talking with. At least that’s what it felt like.

Honestly, I think something’s wrong with her. She may be manic. Her highs were normal, and her lows were “I don’t want to be near anything fun ever.” So finally at around 1:30am (we weren’t about to be forced away from OUR good time just ‘cos she didn’t wanna go home early) we decide to head out, and Katy stays behind to sleep over at Amy’s and Chris’. I could give another reason why Mandy might have been no fun that night but I’ll leave it out. Not that I think she’d read this, just.. courtesy. On the way back to the car, we see this guy in front of the main entrance, face down in the flowers. Just.. lying there, happy to be there, his wife/girlfriend/friend standing over him. We take pictures and head on our way.

On Sunday, we decide between Universal and Epcot, and Epcot wins. We ask Mandy if she wants to go, she says no in a way that she’d rather shove a screwdriver in her ear than go with us. We later find out she spent the whole day in the room. We start out wandering around the countries (the goddamn Starship Earth ride into the big ball was closed. I was pissed and so was everyone else.) and end up in Japan, where we spent most of our time. We ate lunch at a nice restaurant there, wandered around the shop where they had “Pick your own pearl” things, pay 14 bucks, pick an oyster, each guaranteed to have a pearl in it. They’d set it in jewelry for you after. Katy did it, then Mom did, so we spent a while out there. Amy showed up and we kept going around the countries, going on the Maelstrom in Norway, ‘til we got to the Test Track ride. Gwyn and Amy opted out of it, and it ended up giving me a huge, huge headache later on. Chris showed up later, and we went shopping as it started to rain. We wandered over to the Finding Nemo ride, and Soarin’ – which made a lot of us sick too in some places, after waiting an hour to ride the thing in the first place. Having Patrick Warburton as a narrator was pretty hilarious too.

After finishing with Soarin’, we were all so starving we just ate at this nasty food court right outside, which made me even sicker (by this point I was nauseous from the rides, as well as having a pounding headache, and my body ached from head to toe from having to walk so much). It was dark, and still drizzling, so we walked back to Japan to get a good spot for the fireworks. We watched those, and headed back to the hotel. Amy and Chris invited us over to their pool, but Gwyn and Mom were tired, so Katy and I went and came back around 1:30. (For those of you saying “It was their wedding night/honeymoon!” they’ve lived together for a while now, and didn’t have a problem with it, so shut it.)

And Monday, we came back home. I wish we could have stayed longer, or in a better hotel (Mom loves the Wilderness Lodge) but it’s so damn expensive down there. It’d only be viable if you lived in a different country ‘cos their currency is so much stronger than ours. A British dude I talked with at Epcot said he was staying for two weeks. Maybe next time.

ANYWAY! Here are some pictures for your eyeballs. I took a lot on Friday, and Gwyn took more for the rest of the trip, so when she sends those to me, I’ll put ‘em up here.

at the airport before the flight

mom busied herself with the landscape down below.

gwyn, three rows back.

this is what we spend most of our time doing.

and these two were getting married.

here’s where things started getting.. a little.. weird.

this guy had a bitchin’ beard, and while walking with gwyn, i told her it would be awesome to get a picture with him. so we did. a lot of them.

mom does not remember this.

and finally, walking to the car.

and here’s a picture of the alligator that was in a lake near our hotel. katy and gwyn fed it pizza, which it didn’t have a problem with eating.

Once Gwyn sends me the pictures off of her camera, I’ll post those too. This is just Friday night, if you didn’t read all that crap up there.
whine, writing
thoughts from the toilet.
09.22.07 | Permalink | Comment?

i’ve done some retarded shit so far in my life. lies i’ve told, things like that. and some of them have been very big lies, and that i still carry around for a certain reason - people still believe them, and without it a good majority of my life would be nullified. maybe when i get my shit together, i’ll reveal them.

things i’ve written and sent, shown, presented. there are plenty of things i’ve long since lost or deleted in shame that i ever created them. borderline goth shit, you know? self-pity and despair, and i think about the way i look at goth kids now (i’m not saying don’t wear black, i wear black, but color isn’t a bad thing. cheer up, shitheads) and i can’t seem to comprehend how i could ever have been like that. it’s fucking embarrassing.

images with me frowning and making an a-ok sign, text saying “i’m not happy i just fake it really well”

flash animations set to vertical horizon (shut up) detailing how i don’t think i deserve to live ‘cos “oh no, you’re sad”

and a blog full of self-depreciating bullshit. many blogs, actually. at.drac.org, drac.org/valesti, and this, this isn’t really all that different, i suppose, i’ve just learned to word my feelings better than two primary emotions i used to express all my previous feelings: anger and sadness. now it’s all over the map, but it’s still just a blog, in which the majority of the population use as a journal to talk about their problems. so that’s more of the blog facilitating for me, though i could write about more happy stuff. could lighten the mood.

now, i can chalk it up to a legitimate reason, i have been clinically depressed before. but that’s only half of it. were the images and writing, animations and other shit a form of therapy? i think this blog might be. i’ve shown it to my therapist. ex-therapist. i left after he struck a nerve with me. the truth hurts and apparently i wasn’t too keen on facing it.

just need to get my shit together, yeah? yeah.