Oh, I guess I'll play with you a while.

But what about your homework?

I'm going to flunk out anyway.

A L L M Y T E X T S A R E F R O M F A C E B O O K

I don't get suspicious texts,

but if I did--I think I'd tell someone. Right away. Because I'm a wimp and just do things that way. But not these girls. They knew that would make for a terrible plot. They let that whole "we're in danger" stew for a while. And drug out the whole ordeal 8 books. Thank god. I love it.

I've been reading the Pretty Little Liars series and I'm not ashamed to say it. I like a little chick lit, and really, it's a mystery. I think it's fabulous and I'm not going to quit just because it has a few too many love interests. Because I'm interested in love, I really am.

Inquiring minds want to know, out in Fiction World--how does it work? Is loving an older man the way to go, a teacher, a brother? I mean, all that drama, makes it work--doesn't it?

"If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad."

I'm not "happy" but I'm better. I doubt you read my blog, but yeah. I'm not as good as you. At all. But my friends sort of rock and yours sort of suck. And books sort of love me and boys sort of don't. Books love you, they wait for you, they want you forever. Books are perfect boyfriends, even John Green said that.

I'm not great though, reading about these girls with lives, eerily simlar to mine in some ways, has brought up some unwanted memories, things I'd like to push away from my mind--from the not so distant past. Things I'd like to forgive and forget. But, I don't think I ever will. And I think they know that. Or else, I'd be around. I'll never say a word.

--A

B P O I L C R I S I S

Not That I Know Anything.

I could almost laugh. I'm just loving these mass texts and statuses being passed around. Everyone feeling cleaver, eager to repost and send them. "If you don't like off-shore drilling, then walk." And they have a right to be angry, when people are putting their livlihoods at risk. But, it's not like BP and it's affiliations wouldn't provide somesort of compensation or alternative if they were really at risk for losing their jobs. Which I'm sure they're not. So I'm sorry those who don't "understand" are standing around trying to ruffle your feathers. I'm sorry. I'm not going to touch your feathers. They are lovely.
So: If you don't like offshore oil then walk!
Oh, but I have a biiiiike.
I mean, it's not our fault. Our whole lives big oil has said: you know, this is really bound to fail but we have this thing called gas. And we could use it, I mean, it's extremely dangerous to our ecosystem, but we could try it out. And all that bit about the ozone, that's probably just made up so this, "GO GREEN" ridiculousness could happen on the grand scale that it is today. (And to think, we used to hate hippies didn't we?) But going green makes companies money too, it's a marketing tool. But back to the point. If they can drill for oil, and it not endanger water (because water is it. I mean, we need it, a lot. It's what creates oxygen pretty much and God kinda decided this is all the water we get, soooo we should try not to to treat it like, I don't know, a litter box), but if they can drill and water is safe and it isn't a powder keg of destruction, then I'm for it.

And I mean, I'm just an 18-year-old, I have a car that I like to drive, I don't have a husband out there off shore risking his life for me and my kids. And I'm not going to stop putting Popeye's cups in parking lots when I run out of cupholders (seriously, where else am I going to put them?!) But you can't always expect there will be someone to clean up the mess you make. And BP dropped a lot of popeye's cups in the gulf.
So, yeah, I guess I'll walk (or BIKE! ), if that's what it takes to make sure I can see the day when the south isn't plummeting into a depression, or the wetlands haven't fallen into oblivion and its animals aren't extinct, and we aren't rationing out SEA FOOD, or WATER.
Every cause has an effect. Every action has a reaction. And it isn't always negative, but this is something that should have been planned, avoided, handled in less than two months. This isn't a science experiment, this is the only world we have. And we're watching the south be the frist thing to go. And so no, I'm just not for that, because I happen to love more than just the crawfish here. And I would hate to see any of it go.
>>>
FACTS ABOUT THIS WHOLE SHINDIG:
1. BP execs were celebrating safety on the Deepwater Horizon at the exact moment it blew up.
In a curious twist, BP chose April 20 as the date for an on board party to commemorate "Deepwater Horizon going for seven years without an accident." A number of company executives reportedly flew out to the rig to take part in the festivities. The natural gas explosion that killed 11 crew members and eventually sank the rig "blew out the wall leading to the galley, where [the] party was being held."

2.Louisiana's traditional "Shrimp and Petroleum Festival" will proceed as planned.
Morgan City, LA, is celebrating the 75th annual Louisiana Shrimp and Petroleum Festival, even as gobs of sweet crude are threatening to wipe out the state's seafood business for a generation. "All systems are go," said Lee Delaune, the festival’s director. "We will honor the two industries as we always do. More so probably in grand style, because it's our diamond jubilee."

3.BP thinks there are walruses in the Gulf of Mexico.
In the company's "Regional Oil Spill Response Plan, Gulf of Mexico" — a document that tragically ignores the possibility of an event resembling the current spill — BP lists walruses as one of the "Sensitive Biological Resources" in the Gulf. As most average second-graders know, the blubbery mammals reside exclusively in the Arctic.

4.Certain sea turtles just can't catch a break.
In 1979, endangered Kemp's Ridley sea turtles were airlifted from Mexico to the Gulf Coast so they wouldn't be wiped out in the huge Ixtoc blowout, the oil disaster that most closely parallels the BP spill. Now, in their transplanted nesting ground, the species could be wiped out by the Deepwater Horizon gusher.

5.With their population at less than 20 percent of what it was four decades ago, bluefin tuna in the western Atlantic need a lot of things to go just right if they are going to survive as a population. Now, just as they are returning to the Gulf of Mexico to spawn, they are likely to find one of their key breeding grounds slicked-over with oil.

6.More than 125 miles of Louisiana’s coast have already been contaminated, sparking fears about the region’s already endangered wildlife. And heavier amounts of tar balls and other oil debris have washed up on Alabama’s Dauphin Island and parts of Mississippi.

B E C A U S E I M N O T A W K W A R D

I couldn't just say, "Happy Birthday." I couldn't. The editor of the paper I so very much would like to be on, Samantha, happens to have a birthday today. I knew it was coming. And that I should prepare. Because I know me, and I just knew I would do something like this. Something would freak me out and I would over think and say, well, I can't just say it like everyone else.
I mean, you know, there's facebook. The poking and the messages and the, "Ohmygod, haven't seen you in forever, call me!" Then there is the birthday. The one day that everyone writes on your wall. Your perverted uncle, your ex's new girlfriend, your chemestry teacher, everyone. Well, I did not want to be the teacher, or the uncle, or god the girlfriend. So what did my little brain say to do? Research.
So sitting here in this hotel room I type: Why do we celebrate birthdays?
And I mean of course Google has the answer and it really is a fun read so Google it sometime (one guy was like, cause it's FUN! Duh!).
As it turns out, it's interesting. Yeah, okay, I could have said that too. Not what I did. I wrote her an article on birthdays, basically. I put a stocking over my face and hid under her porch. I am a creeper. (I was exaggerating, I would never go under any porch it's too dark!)
---
So I do this:
I'm going to join in with the rest of the world of facebook and tell you, "happy birthday." You know, birthdays are the longest tradition of celebration in history, and when calendars were pretty much just the sky people would notice that when the sun and moon lined up the way the were the day a person was born it brought them good luck. "Good luck" meaning something like finding a sheep or having good health. So I guess the nut shell version of this would be, "I hope you find a sheep today, or something of this century's equivalence."
---
Terrible, right? And it gets worse. It's too long for a normal text box.
This is me just moaning and rolling into a hole in the earth. (Again, too dark.)
So I say you know geez, just post it. So I do, I look at it, and it's cut off. There's that little "see more." Button. FML.
I'm so embarassed. I really am. Like, I don't know how to act. And I just want to be cool. But, I don't know how at all. And I'm just unsure and worried she's going to think I'm just the lamest thing of all time. I mean,it's been said that I'm not, but I have my doubts. I watch Buffy, I read Twilight. Oh the shame. Oh the agony.
Guys, I'm worried. I could remove it, but then what? What does that say about me?
I'm ignoring that it ever happened.
I have to be out of here by twelve. Then I have to go do anything until 3, when Daniel finishes orientalationing.
I just want to sleep all day. Not even an option.

A P P L I E D

I applied to Student Printz the paper at USM.
They asked some stuff. Here's what I said.
---
After spending my past two years at Mississippi School of the Arts studying under the literary department, I have become interested in both the journalism world and the writing that accompanies it. My last summer was spent mostly at Delta State University during a program that allowed students to study arts as well as other classes, including journalism. I worked on the paper there (less of an actual paper and more of an opportunity for students of all ages to see what journalism would be like) and served as the editor-in-chief. I also spent a week last summer as a job shadow at the "News Commercial," the local paper in Collins (where I'm from). Near the end of my stay, I was surprisingly given a spot in the paper to feature one of the articles I had written just for fun. Other than the two occurrences aforementioned, I have had no experience writing journalism, though I would like to. In creative writing, however, I write mostly non-fiction personal essays that I believe would translate well into perhaps an interest column. I'm open to all positions and would love for a chance to work with The Student Printz.

Peer editing is a big part of the literary program at Mississippi School of the Arts, and during the two years spent there it becomes a craft in and of itself. Though it is a creative writing department, I worked with things other than prose and poetry such as: college essays, scholarship/contest essays, artists' statements, pamphlets, programs, and lastly The Phoenix our literary journal.
Our senior project in literary arts is to put on a "senior showcase" a reading and performance of our literary works. Students of my discipline get into groups and choose dates, venues, readers, music, set design, and create pamphlets or programs for the evening. Doing these shows not only forces us to decide which works are best for the audience, but also proves the ability of each individual to handle the pressures of planning and the issues that arise.
Other things I learned were how to arrange portfolios, write artist's statements, and meet deadlines. I feel as though these skills could make me prepared for the fast-paced world of journalism.

My junior year was a stressful time, I had to write a lot and I had to know what I wanted to write about. I had no problem writing a lot, but deciding what to write often troubled me. Going through this time I learned quickly how to feel out which things would be best for me to write, or how I should go about responding to a specific prompt, and quickly. I once took a lunch to edit my play before turning it in, decided I didn't like it, and completely rewrote the ten pages in thirty minutes. Pressure pushes me, and it's usually when my best work happens. When I have to stop trying to perfect something and thinking too hard, and actually just write, or do whatever I need to get done. At the same time, my senior show was the only one done a week in advance, so I also feel pressured to get things done in a timely manner, not necessarily at the last minute.

I tend to dwell on minor things that I feel need perfecting and overlook the entire picture. While it's not at all a bad thing to edit and rewrite time and time again, I sometimes lose hope and start over when there's only a sentence that needs unraveling. However, I feel that having a week to do a piece for the paper and having a month to write a short story are very difference and as I've mentioned in previous answers, I work best under pressure.

Since I've yet to read the paper much, I don't feel safe giving any real criticism. However, in my experience, published writing can only be better if there is more time to edit it--and I assume journalism has a bit of a deadline that doesn't allow for that sort of thing. I also would imagine that, with that knowledge, the paper would only employ editors with bionic editing abilities that supersede any spell check around.
Speaking from someone who's not been a part of the USM campus, I would suggest giving the readers what they need and want to hear. As long as the readers are happy and the paper is up to its full potential as far as writing goes, I would call that a success.

S T R O K E T H E F U R R Y W A L L

RECOVERY:

still haven't changed the background on my laptop from those photobooth pictures of us, even though I spent the whole day looking for options on /wg/ @4chan

still can't help but listen to the playlist he made me

still think about him constantly

still handling situations in extremes (we're either never talking again or just star-crossed lovers that need to be best friends)
still seems like I'm the only one not doing well
still not recovered
---
"If You're Not The One"
Well, apparently I'm not. And that song is a joke and it sucks and I hate it.
I really hate it. It's just lies. Like you. So, neeeeeaaaahhhh.
---

A P O L O G I Z I N

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

If I was John my hair would be so poof-tastic right now.

Well, it sort of is.

Andbutso, let me get down to it and explain myself.

Because once again to you my lovely, yes you. I am sorry.

I'm neglecting you.

I am a bad parent.

No affection

attention

advice

text messages.

Let me make it up to you.

I'll just unload.

Give you all I can.

Here it goes:

---

I'm living with Daniel which falls into

Jason left me which ties in with

I'm buying lots of things because

Daniel and I shop mostly at

Garage sales and thrift stores but I still

can't sleep

or eat properly.

But

I went to USM

for preview day

With BEBEH

it was meh.

I was sad.

I love USM, really

I met the paper

it was the only booth not filled with cheesy cheesepoo.

---

It is insane how much I want to work for the paper. Like. There are no words.

>>>Sidebar: there ARE words. There are always words. However. I'm so sleepy. Word for me this time, okay?

---

I can't put Jason in a box just yet. I just can't. And I have so much giraffe stuff now. And a new Buffy VHS box set. My life, please rationalize it.

---

It's that time of year again. Put your heart in a ziplock bag and tuck it in the freezer. I should be used to it by now. I'm going to start hiding it from myself.

Lovin' ma Daniel. We're about to eat tacos. mmm.

W H I L E Y O U W E R E S H O P P I N G

I don't want to confuse you (you, you, not "Daniel-you" to whom this is referring).

I went furniture shopping with Daniel and his family yesterday. Daniel is getting an apartment. I want an apartment. I got a book. We were not book shopping for his apartment, though. We were book shopping for Daniel's brother, Garett, and I was book shopping for me. And Bebeh Blair told me to read this book. And I do love Bebeh, and books, and curiosity. Andbutso, it was good. I read it on eight different couches, one pallet/bed, and one vehicle. I read it yesterday, when I bought it, by "read" I mean "devoured." It was delicious. I loved it.

---

Pros: I loved the narrator/main character, adorable point-of-view, perfect pace, wonderful story line and idea and just a great sense of purpose to the whole thing, nothing seemed weird or out of place at all. It all fit so perfectly it seemed real.

---

Cons: It reminded me of Flowers For Algernon, which was a book I enjoyed, but they were just really similar narrators, I thought. And the whole rat thing. It was just eerie. However, I do love both books a lot.

S O M E T H I N G S

W R I T E R S & S U C H

David.

---

Going to Gaga in April next year with Daniel :)

Good Morning&Goodnight.

2 R E A S O N S

Maddie Roommate in this picture, and Zack's missing shirt.

We Graduated.

Where'd you go?
I miss you so--
seems like it's been forever
that you've been gone...

I'm SO sorry. I didn't M E A N to disappear. I really didn't. I got really spoiled at school with having internet everyday. Then graduation started creeping up. And I got so busy. And, and, I'm sorry. I am sorry. You don't deserve this. Please don't leave me.

Okay, I'm back. Here's what's on the menu:

I don't have internet at home. I can blog a bit from my phone. Period. When I can, I'll make pretty posts on the computer. However, that is very very seldom.

I want to start a journey. An epic journey to and through churches in my area. I want to go to a new one every Sunday, chronicle the events, and find the perfect church. However, I'm thinking that's going to be a pretty funny account, because there are some churches I can't take seriously. Freal.

Anyway, I mean, I probably can't do that this summer. Cause, you know, I go to Jason's church with him mostly. And, I just don't think I will. "Can't" is synonymous with "won't."

I'm back. As much as I can be. I love you. Really.

C D C M E H A P P I

My junior, Anna, made me a mix CD.

I love it.

(1)Pianno Lessons--Porcupine Tree

(2)Maxwell's Silver Hammer--the Beatles

(3)Graduate--Third Eye Blind

(4)Paris Is Burning--St. Vincent

(5)Bad--Michael Jackson

(6)Water Dripping On Bread Makes Bread Taste Not So Nasty--Major Organ And The Adding Machine

(7)Sleeping In--The Postal Service

(8)Telephone (feat. Beyonce')--Lady Gaga

(9)Poem: At What Point Does A Shakespeare Say--Emilie Autumn

(11)Italian Leather Sofa--Cake

(12)Spring-Heeled Jack--Zombina & The Skeletons

(13)She Blinded Me With Science--Thomas Dolby

(14)Death to Death--Stars

(15)The Day He Didn't Die--The Mighty Might Bosstones

(16)This Hog's In Love--The Presests

(17)A-W-E-S-O-M-E--Reel Big Fish

(18)Glass Vase, Cello Case--Tattle Tale

(19)Boombox (feat. Julian Casablancas)-- The Lonely Island

(20)Two Shoes--The Car Empire

(21)The Future Soon--Jonathan Coulton

(22)Write What You Know--Stars

A S C H O L A R S H I P

My grandmother has boxes filled of write ups from when my dad was in school that say things like: “Today, your son was sent to the office for running around the room and howling like an Indian.” Needless to say, my father didn’t finish school. He got his GED and went to welding school and has been welding and pipe fitting for my entire life. He makes great money when there are jobs he can go to, but it’s not very reliable and it’s evidently very hard on him. I don’t want that for my life. Now, when my father looks at me at awards day, or when I win writing contests, I can tell he’s proud of me. I graduate high school in ten days, and hopefully graduate college in four years—I imagine on those days I’ll be excited enough to run around like an Indian, and I really hope he is, too. My father has taught me to run around and act crazy when I feel like a need to, but work hard to be all I could ever want to be, too—and I will, and I do.

That boy is a monster.

That boy is a

monster-er-er-er-er

he ate my heart!

I love that girl.

He ate my heart.

Wanna talk to her she's hawt as hell.

He ate my heart.

If anyone wants to get me either a polaroid 300 camera and film, or polaroid 600 film, I would love it. I want it for graduation day.

Clikk.

I'm going to be in an MSA promotional video, up on the website in JuneorJuly.

T H O S E F I N G E R S L E A V E M A R K S

Can we press our faces against the glass?
Leave obtuse circles on it's Windexed surface--
tap, tap,
tap our index fingers on the Internet
and scare away those men, those teenagers
eating sex like scones and feeling so sophisticated.
.
Never apologize, watch that dolphin flinch, that
man that never even knew
how to spell D-O-L-F-I-N
godhelpus--
I wish she would have turned around,
no arms, no hand to push him with,
"You can't rape an animal, they want it--
you can't rape a girl that likes it."
.
We are all animals, and I'm sweating
because it's hot outside,
but the longer I'm wrapped up
in AC units and motherboards
the more I feel like screaming
screeching crying like a dolphin
.
because when I get out there,
everyone one
with all their +1 internets
will be sitting on the curbs
smoking droopy cigarettes
and looking at me,
begging me
to walk into that smoke screen
and spend those five seconds coughing
.
press my fingers into my eyes and
let the tears fall down my face
look down
let the breasts that
sprouted spontaneously one day
overflow my shirt
and not know
if I've grown
or if I'm just supposed to look
like this.

The Look
by Sara Teasdale

Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.


Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
Haunts me night and day.

I want to play Hey You, Pikachu S O O O bad, it really doesn't make sense at all. If you know what that is, I'm impressed and I N L O V E. I wish technology was a little slower, or nostalgia was a little shallower.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today, I was walking through the hall and saw some of the Visuals' art work (hello, Art School). They all had to make these boxes that were like, shadow box-type things, and there were colored lights behind them. There was one that was Where the Wild Things Are themed--there were coke bottles and pop tops, there were funny shapes and other things, but my favorite one said:

"I'm Not Nostalgic"

and it had some other random letters down at the bottom. I loved it!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I did some asking, found out it was my roommate. Epic. It's amazing.

Poem.

C L I X

Exposed.

Scene.

I'm going to start submitting the hell out of stuff. Writing just to submit. That's what I'm doing today.

Somehow I'm going to junior college now. 2 years, yessir.

• FIREWATCH, summer job. I've always been good at not catching on fire or blowing up. It's basically my calling.
• FARMER, sellin' produce. Makin cash money.

I'm sorry, do other people have plans? I'm just catching myself before I fall, landing in whatever this is. I'm going to college. Regardless. Somewhere.

W U T H A P P N' D

W U T

So, I spent around three hours watching old Mary-Kate and Ashley videos. I don't know why, but it's conned me into begging Jason to watch one (or two) of their VHS's that I'll dig up somewhere from my past. My nose is so itchy, this morning madee sat straight up and told me to stop sniffling and that I was keeping her awake--I think it's all this nostalgia in the air, it's making me dizzy. There are three weeks left here. Only three. I filled out FAFSA today with Miss Jana:

No I don't know my Mom or Dad's birthdays, or anniversary.

No I don't know how much money is in the bank or how many square feet our house is.

I wonder how many poeple fill out the "Yes, I have a farm," section? But I just want to sing, "We Need A Vaction," "No One Tells The President What To Do," and maybe, "Gimme Pizza." I just want to belt, "Bravery."
Whatever happened to them? I wonder if they ever watch their own TV show re-runs, or movies. I would. I wish my life had been recorded. Sometimes I think I remember what I want to.

W U T H A P P E N 'D

moar apporpriate

SGA (student government association)

Spirit Week: Ashlyn and Olivia

Passed.