SEF
2. Name someone with the same birthday as you:
Jerry Lewis
3. Where was your first kiss?
on the porch of the Way Out building at Montreat, NC
4. For or against same sex marriage?
as marcus says, "i'm for gay marriage. if you're, you know, gay."
5. Are you homophobic?
Of course not - I love people! *lol*
6. Are you bisexual?
somewhat, I suppose.
7. Do you believe in God?
no
8. How many U.S states have you been to?
28
9. How many of the U.S states have you lived in?
four
10. Have you ever lived outside the U.S?
when I was little I lived in Germany
11. Name something you like physically about yourself:
my hips and my eyes
12. Something non-physical you like about yourself:
i can sing
13. What's your mom's first name?
Karin (Nightwing is my stepmom)
14. What is your dream car?
this is MY dream, and I say i can travel at the speed of thought!
15. If you could go anywhere in the world where would you go?
probably somewhere that we're not allowed to travel as tourists, like Afghanistan
16. Have you ever had someone of the opposite sex sleep over?
yes
17. Do you have to pee right now?
sort of, but i'll go right before i go to sleep. i think that sounds like a plan.
18. Do you download music?
not myself
19. How many illegal things have you done?
two, since i can't drink legally yet
20. Where would you want to go on a first date?
probably out for coffee/tea and then go walking or driving somewhere pretty, unless they were opposed.
21. Would you date the person who posted this before you?
I sort of borrowed him for a week at the Mensa convention, so yeah.
22. Has anyone ever sang or played for you personally?
someone wrote a song for me once!
23. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
hmm...Mike, did I kiss you when we were watching the fireworks that one time? I don't remember.
24. Do you like president Bush?
not for a president, but I might have tea and biscuits with him or something.
25. Have you ever bungee jumped?
no, but i really want to.
26. Have you ever white water rafted?
i LOVE rafting! *squee!*
27. Has anyone ten years older than you ever hit on you?
Yes. He just kept talking and talking about being in the Air Force and moving to Texas and his job and how he sucks at English but rocks at math and on and on... He freaked out when he found out I wasn't even 21. But then he kept hitting on me some more, so I guess it didn't bother him too much. Then again I was wearing The Dress, so who can blame him.
28 and 29 have eloped together. We apologize for any inconvenience.
30. Are you racist?
no
31. What song are you listening to right now?
Counting Crows - "American Girls"
32. What is your current favorite song?
probably this song, actually. also Quindon Tarver's remix of "When Doves Cry" makes me want to start choreographing again.
33. What was the last movie you watched?
um...I'll go with Some Like It Hot
34 got jealous and killed itself.
35. Where was the last place you went besides your house?
Julie's house
36. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else's property?
lol no
37. Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?
Well...they deserved it...but it didn't hurt because I'm weak, so don't worry.
38 is on holiday,
39. What's the first thing you notice about the opposite sex?
eyes, and the way they walk. and i like good hugs, but i only sometimes get to find that out immediately.
40. What really turns you on?
oh shit, um...lol there are like a billion things, I know: kissing that touches the tip of my tongue, lewd comments, being propositioned, the temptation generated from partners' holding back, beautiful strangers, blue/green eyes (I know it's unfair to brown-eyed people, but this is so ungodly sexy), hands touching my bare skin, full body contact, guys wearing jeans and no shirt, Acqua di Gio (over three years, still gets me every time!), girls with dark eye makeup, teasing, being told (nicely) what to do or how to move, wet hair, wet bodies, showers, coyness, physical strength, kissing my inner thighs, holding me super close, when eople say they want me, this list is too damn long...
41. What really turns you OFF?
biting, shy people, screaming during sex, unnecessary arrogance about sexual prowess, saying I should change physical things about myself, naming sex organs, obnoxious music during sex, kissing badly (that's important!), not listening to me, nervousness, causing me unnecessary pain, putting me in total control, role playing, this list is not *quite* so long...
42 is busy being the meaning of life!
43. What do you usually order from Starbucks?
chai tea
44. Say something totally random about yourself:
I've only had three cans of Moon Mist and two pieces of toast all day.
45. Do you have an iPod?
nope
46. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
Julia Roberts or Natalie Portman or Claudia from "Party of Five." like what???
47. Whats your dad's name?
Beldon (and Bill is my stepdad)
48. Do you have braces?
no
49. Are you comfortable with your height?
i would like to be one inch shorter so that i could fucking fit into pants correctly! lol
50. Do you like someone right now?
yeah.
51. How tall are you?
5'7"
52. Do you speak any other language other than english?
some Spanish
53. Ever ridden in a limo?
once when I was 7 or 8
54. Do you still talk to your first kiss?
no, but he'd talk to me if i called him.
55. What's a pet peeve of yours?
people who say "i have went" instead of "i have gone" or say "i gone" instead of "i went."
56. Has anyone you were really close to passed away?
no
57. Do you watch MTV?
sometimes i record the half-hour blocks of music videos and then skip through the commercials and watch them, so i can keep up with pop culture.
58. What's something that really annoys you?
when people say that my problems aren't as bad as their problems, or their friend's friend's problems, or their neighbor's cousin's dog's problems, and then act like i shouldn't be complaining because of that. I let you be a fucking bleeding-heart whiny emo bitch, so let me have my turn!
59. What are some things you really like?
beautiful people, my rings, black sweaters, thin black cigarettes, my glasses case, Salvador Dali, feeling beautiful, really awesome sex, Lost in Translation, loud music in my car, driving, falling in love, deja vu, fucked-up dreams, sleeping in my underwear, the way my legs feel right after i've shaved them, Quindon Tarver, staying up late...
60. Do you like Michael Jackson?
yes
61. Can you dance?
yes. decently.
62. Have you ever surfed?
nope
63. Do you know how to pump gas?
lol once i couldn't make the gas pump work and i cried in front of the attendant and he fixed it for me. and then i felt uber retarded, like woah.
64. Do you drive?
all over the fucking place.
65. What's the latest you have ever stayed out?
days at a time
66. Have you ever thought that you were honestly going to die?
oh yeah, definitely.
67. Were you ever rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room?
nope
68. Have you ever been dared to do something you didn't want to do?
yeah. and then i didn't do it.
69. What's your favorite state to live in?
out of the places I've been I would say Connecticut, South Carolina, or Norway.
Cool shadows, bright lights,
Mexico City moonlight.
A stranger voice never appeared
Than when you spoke this night,
Only a night from all other nights.
My veins buzzed with trickling thrill
At a look, a touch, a sigh--
Disinterested in the bright cocktails,
The moving lights, the spike heels,
The lipstick, the ivory boudoirs.
I found J's diary...or rather, Marc found it...on the computer. It goes through almost his whole trip here. He stopped writing when he started getting pissed off and not wanting to remember what was happening. Seeing it makes me happy because there was a time when he loved me and even moments when he was happy about it. On the other hand, it makes me sad that I couldn't've made the trip better for him. I tried to compensate by just...BEING there and always pushing my love at him, but anyone who's been in love will tell you that that's just not enough. You can't push love forever without spending some time saving up reserves.
He loved my smile. That got me thinking about how I don't smile as much anymore. I smile some. I haven't stopped. But I don't as much. I'm trying to get mom to take me to a psychiatrist. I don't really want to go, but I think I should. The only thing that makes me not want psychiatric help is the actual doctor. I'm not a fan of doctors that you have to talk to. Like my doctor now I'm totally fine with until he asks me about school or something. I mean seriously, I don't KNOW him personally! I don't want to discuss my life with people i don't know. So I think I'll have to work on that. I'm also afraid they'll tell me nothing's wrong. There has to be something wrong because I am not like this. I do not associate the way I've been acting recently with what I would label "myself."
It's hideously cold, being unremarkable. Ordinary. I guess maybe this is more of an American Beauty moment than a dark moment. That movie was pretty damn dark though.
Like in America, there's no pride in being similar. I mean there is to a degree, but the only people who can embrace that pride are the ones plain enough to be valued for nothing outside of community. No-one notices you. No-one really notices anything. Even the remarkable things we're too jaded to appreciate, or too jaded to accept the appreciation. I don't mean the appreciation that "everyone is unique," but the appreciation of those who really can be different. I'm just like every other slightly-hippie, overly-accepting, nervous, depressive, self-conscious person out there, which unfortunately for me seems to be everyone nowadays. I'm not going to go into anything about a collective consciousness if you promise to realize that I'm seriously considering it.
But it is cold. It's something...I want to say "hopelessness," but it's beyond that. It's kind of more and less than that trite. I hate it for all that it is and all that it fails to be. (I think in that sense I hate everything that is?) I want to cry. I want to cry until it's all outside of me. I want to cry until the inside is so washed anew that I can't help but die. I want to cry myself to death.
I'm so artlessly common with all of this. Every word I say is rendered ridiculous by the countless others who have already been there, done that. It's old, it's over before it begins, and I am no longer what is important because the only importance is left with words that have yet to be said about what is new and beautiful and what will make the regular folk like me forget life for ten seconds or a minute.
"No-one ever really loves...I mean, not in the way that they imagine it. There's always some doubt, some skepticism, just in case they get dumped or...find someone better or something, you know?"
This is my thought for the day. It was on some video that Courtney Taylor-Taylor made. Just a little bit of deepness I thought. Also I've been reading Mrs. Dalloway, which has a lot about love in it. There are these two characters--Clarissa and Peter--who were totally in love with each other like, 30 years ago. And now they're stil in love with each other in weird, twisted ways that they're totally in denial of. Plus they fight like a married couple all the time. They say all this stuff that just makes you know they still love each other. It's kind of funny to watch. Or read. Whatever.
Thinking about all that love just makes me more depressed. I cried yesterday, but I can't remember what over. I think it was my trying to be normal again and everyone's not going along with the plan. Not that their sole purpose in life is to appease me, but I wish that for once I could at least pretend to direct my own life. I feel so bitter inside, so cynical, because I know I can't.
And I keep saying to myself that this could all be fake. If existentialism forces you to choose a game to play, the it's just a game no matter what. Life is just a game. Just a cereal. Nothing personal.
And I hate it. I hate playing, I hate trying, and I hate the whole goddamn affair.
To Emanuele and Julie--I didn't need to after all.
I am not shy, to say the least.
I have no dignity to lose, and I see no game,
No prize, no price pinned to a human heart,
But my silence is deceiving.
I have shy things to say.
But no words to explain them.
No words...for the first time in my life.
This hopeless romance makes me laugh, which makes me wonder
If all countries think of laughter differently.
What words spring to mind when you don't quite love
A beautiful girl, or one not so much but touching, intriguing?
But I am not the only one who wonders,
Who finds something wanting in your eyes
And, of course, hopes it is herself.
We hope our visible "Americana" won't jade you to us,
For you speak with southern warmth; we forget we'll melt away.
In this sense I am hopeless to compete
And angry that I feel forced to compete.
It's this American obsession with foreignness
In any form; homeland insecurities surface in glowing, greedy eyes
Unlike mine, which cannot glow with any dark intensity,
And my voice is unusually soft and shaking.
Try to understand my past:
Nothing has helped me wash away the blue-silver
Shadows that haunt me, clinging to the window
Like soap stains unmoved by tear-wet rags.
You are the first who has made me forget,
For a moment, that I have lost something held sacred.
I forget to fear the next moment and the next and the next;
In cloudy eyes I forget that moments exist--
Not just the bad or regretful, but all moments in time.
I wonder if time does not exist.
Agonizing, stargazing, "what if?"
