Yesterday I spent about...4 hours watching the first two series of Black Books which was created by Graham Linham and Dylan Moran. It's a fantastically awesome series about three misanthropes. Bernard Black run Black Books, a used bookstore; Manny goes bonkers and starts working there and Bernard's friend Fran spends a lot of time hanging out in the shop. They live drinking, smoking and being all around ridiculous. The characters remind me a bit of a British It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia at times, the humor isn't as dry as some British comedies can be. It made yesterday pretty damn awesome as I started sinking into being depressed.
Speaking of being depressed...I went to counseling yesterday morning, like most Tuesdays. Prior to I did that stupid thing where I sleep for four hours. Seriously, I think it's a retarded side effect from quitting smoking. I don't know, it's really friggin' annoying. I woke up at 6, I was able to get back to sleep, but being awake was not plesant. It's not like I didn't feel rested, but I know me and I know my habits so I don't understand why I keep waking up after only four hours of sleep.
In councling I spoke about what's gone on over the past week including going to a festival this past Friday and going to a youth church thing. I can appreciate where the group is coming from by using rap to make the youth feel closer to the message [it was a predominantly black church group] but I don't agree. It sounded mostly like hardcore rap which seems a little counterproductive. What I mean is, if it sounds like gangster, shoot-'em-up rap and you can't understand what's being said, how do they know the message they intended got across to the youth? If you look at my track record of music habits I'm across the board, except for hardcore rap. I never liked that sound, it has never been pleasing to my ears so I was judgemental. If you remember my earlier blogs about my opinion of religion I was already going in judging. I tried to get with it but I couldn't. When the speaker got up on stage to preach I was more or less fine with the message. He spoke about not giving up because something is too hard. That's the Devil's work getting you off your proper path. That I could get behind. I could not agree with his use of a cancer analogy.
For the newcomers, my mother died from cancer. I don't like talking about cancer in that ambiguous manner that if someone died from it, they gave up. Bull-fucking-shit. My family and I never 'gave up hope' we held out candle for my mother the entire time she was ill. We prayed, our church prayed, her co-workers prayed. She's now on a prayer list or something with some church, still. People have not forgotten us. There were a lot of people who didn't give up praying for her. The doctors did the best the could and ended up trying to keep her pain manageable. She died because of science. Why do I not want to accept it as God's will? I'll tell you. I don't want to accept it as God's will because I still needed her. I still need her.
I have met a lot of people who care, who will give me advice and help me should I ask, and even if I don't ask all the time. That's all well and dandy but my mother is still dead. It's not the same. If God cared about me than why did she need to die? So I could grow up? What's going to happen in my life that I couldn't stay naive for a few months longer, a few years longer.
Why did she have to die, science can explain. The massive amounts of chemicals in her system took their toll on her body, it could not take it anymore. Her kidney's stopped flushing water from her blood; her lungs deteriorated from pneumonia getting a hold of her chemotherapy weakened system and her body was too far deceased and disconnected to continue. Her body knew it was time, it tried to keep up but it couldn't repair itself fast enough. The thought that biology happened, that it's the natural order of life and death, that all living things die at some point made me feel better than saying 'God wanted her to come home.' Science gives me answers. I believe in science. I believe in some deity getting things started and is now sitting back or just plain gone and this world continues circling that fucking star. Science has yet to give us all the answers. I can accept that. I mean, if the universe started from the 'Big Bang' where did the elements come from for that initial beginning? If they came from an even earlier universe, what happened to that one? And where did that one come from?
We don't know, so I believe in science as far as it can give me an educated answer. It might all be wrong but it makes enough sense and seems plausible enough for me.
I left counseling this morning with my counselor asking me to detail how I felt as my mother was sick, when she died and after. Thankfully I have so many damn blogs and journals it's kind of like aggregating it and maybe writing something new, or taking this. Not too sure yet.
I left counseling and killed some time until I went out to Jerry's Art-Arama to get supplies for my color theory class. I spent $184 to get my supplies, giant 19X24 bristol, color aid, pencils, triangle, compass and a shit ton of 'other'. I did get to save abut $20, my friend who is now dropping the class, is letting me borrow some things for the duration which is pretty sweet.
Now, the trip back from Jerry's, which is out in Virginia Beach was an interesting and highly irritating one. Remember how I said I was slipping into depression last night? Well it reared it's bastardly ugly head. Fucking bastard. People's driving was irritating me and my friend tried to give me some advice on how to deal with it. It didn't help. I was in the middle of being depressed, being told just about anything does not help. We were stuck in traffic because of an accident on 64 and people just kept irritating me. My friend couldn't placate me and was actually counter productive. When I cry I don't want to be told it's fine to cry, I like rationalizing things out. I like words, I like taking the elusive and explaining it to the best of my ability. Why? It focuses me. It keeps me in control. I like being in control.
That's not to say I don't let myself go and go with the flow of things. I have been stepping out of my box, out f my comfort zone for a while, trying new things. At the festival I tried crawfish, I went back to a church for the first time in three years, I've gone out with people I don't know. I have no problem feeling joy, happiness, bliss, anger, irritation, depression. I feel, I like feeling with words. Tears do nothing. No, crying doesn't make me feel better, I hate crying, I hate it when I cry, it's like I've lost control in an unpleasant way. Science on wikipedia gives me a few answers but not much is going on right now to really prompt this. It's irritating and I really can't stand crying.
And looking at that and knowing me I can now predict a few things. As I said yesterday I knew I was getting depressed. As I cried I said I was feeling depressed. I've written more journals in the past few weeks than I have in a while. Writing is one of the things I do when I'm depressed, I'm trying to put my feelings into words, trying to work through it. Writing about any thing that comes to mind. [Yes, I want 'any' and 'thing' to be separate words]. I've been depressed and I'm PMS-ing. I'm not as hard up about candy unless I'm pms-ing, and I want peanut butter. It was never chocolate for me, always peanut butter. At the moment it's peanut butter M&Ms, yeah there's chocolate, but it's about the peanut butter. It's usually Reese's Pieces, I know these things.
So I'm in my car, trapped in my traffic, in the Virginia heat [with A/C], and I'm crying and depressed. My friend it telling me it's fine. It's not fine. It's never fine when I cry. Very few of my friends have seen me cry and it's always when I can't put my frustrations into words.
I hate crying. Period.
I dropped him off, came home, and made a 16 oz Cosmopolitan in a water-bottle. I downed it in an hour and rolled around on my bed drunk and doing nothing on the internet until I decided to see Toy Story 3. I have been thinking about not seeing it, but in the long run I had to. It was awesome. I didn't like that the three trailer's before the movie were for 3D flicks, I saw Toy Store in classic 2D and these trailers seemed like those movies weren't going to be distributed in 2D, I assume they will be but we'll see. One of these days on my movie blog I'll put up my opinion about 3D and elaborate on my distaste for it. And if you pop over to my movie blog, you can see my opinion on making pseudo 3D/CGI animated films, as critiqued by the Smurfs movie slated for next year. I also have some ideas about photo-realism, which can fit into that blog but will get it's own, because that owl movie looks creepy (it had human eyes..wtf?!? -ovular-). But, I don't like barn owls, their faces are disturbingly flat, and the movie seems to 'star' a barn owl. Joy. Or it's a masked owl...I don't like the flatter faces. The other things I noticed in the trailers is that there are two animated movies for this summer/fall that seem like they're supposed to be sympathetic to villains. The Will Ferrel one, Mastermind or whatever (...'it's BIG for a reason'...great, penis envy jokes); and the Steve Carell one, Despicable Me (reading this plot, this seems weak. I like the beginning idea, but where it goes, not as much). I think the trailer could be made stronger if the minion characters said the word right, instead of tailoring it to kids, if they broke it down on the screen for the kid to learn the damn word and not having the minion stumble on the word then having the announcer say it correctly.
So, Toy Story 3, fantastic. It was also hella depressing. It was also hella brilliant. I loved the toys that were there in the the day care, I loved how things played out. It was all really well written an animated. I don't want to spoil much, but I do with that more had been done with Bonnie's toys, they were awesome. And great voices all around. I could have gone with the Spanish Buzz joke, it went on a bit too long for me and seemed to be a little contrived, but outside of that bit of nit picking I enjoyed everything. It was written on a kid's level, but was great for adults without it needing to be vulgar, a la Shrek.
Yeah...I came back home and wrote all this out. It's taken me a bit more than an hour. So today was a roller coaster of hell, kind of. But I feel better now that I've written..something! See, crying doesn't help, words do!
Jasmine P.
Showing posts with label drama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drama. Show all posts
June 30, 2010
January 24, 2010
On Having A Boyfriend, and why I Haven't Had One
On Friday I updated my Facebook status to 'man, Facebook really wants me to find a man' to which a cousin of mine, who is 8 months older than I am inquired to if I ever had a boyfriend, I replied no, he asked why, I ignored him. He somehow inferred that I was a lesbian, to be more specific, he was surprised that 'I didn't like boys' to which I explained that is not the case, and he was wrong for inferring that. I explained that I've have and have had friends whom were male, but not fulfilling the title of 'boyfriend'. I continued by saying I decided to ignore the previous question. In all honesty, I don't know why guys don't like me enough to date me. I didn't say that last sentence, he replied along the lines of seeing why I didn't have a boyfriend. I told him to enlighten me, since he apparently knows so much, which brings me to here.
I don't really care for bringing my lack of a love life to attention unless I'm ranting about it. I didn't want to really have a conversation about it with a cousin I barely know. I was also tired of his writing as if he doesn't know the fucking language. I don't really know why he writes like he doesn't know proper grammar and sentence structure, so I tend to ignore him on Facebook until he decides to say something to me, which was sadly the case this time. This isn't the worst written post from him, but he's had some that just made my brothers and myself wonder what the fuck happened when he got older.
Brenton, my cousin, is 21, has a kid, is also an uncle, and is ignorantly proud of having not finished college, because he now has a family. His sister also never finished college before having a kid. My family values education so we don't think he should be so proud of having a kid and barely attained a college education, not even a 2-year partial degree thing. He's proud of his "baby's mama" and joined the army to appease her father. I can't remember if he got married. As far as I'm concerned, my cousin has not acquired anything to be able to criticise my life nore my lackthereof of a significant other. He only has a few months over me, which isn't enough for me to really respect his opinion. I humor him, in my mind because he'll ask me the same sort of question every few months, I respond once or twice, then I ignore him. He has some obsession with my having a boyfriend. Part of me does, but I have better things to do than wait for someone else to 'make me happy'.
I've gone 21 years on my own, I've really only wanted someone for the past 6 years. I haven't hd one for a few reasons: in high school any guy I was interested in was gay or taken. In college that has persisted, but I have attempted to pursue guys which failed each time. Now I'm content on my own, it's only when I start PMS-ing that I want somebody. It gets annoying, but it doesn't last long until I'm content to being back on my own. I love me, I worship me on a daily basis and I make myself the before fucking food ever. I feel like I'm bragging, and I probably am, when I tell people the awesome things I make for myself. Cornish hens, pan-cooked boneless pork ribs, steak, pots of chicken noodle soup. I decided if I don't make awesome things for myself, why does anyone I meet from here on in deserve things I don't give myself, or those types of things.
I'm on my own and I'm well enough as is. I have plenty of friends, I have a bunch of guy friends so it works out. I get them to do things for me, I pay them back. I'm around guys in general all the time that helps me because I can't stand being around girls all the time. Hell, my roommate this year, Megan, she weirds me out a little. she has some obsession with talking to me every time I walk in, EVERY TIME! If I open the door to the bathroom she's there sometimes, wanting to talk. She'll watch me cook, we're not even talking, and she'll just watch me cook. It's kind of creepy. I don't get it. I don't have anything interesting to say, but she'll be there. I've no problem talking, I generally talk most people's ears off, but it's an odd situation that kind of makes my skin crawl. It's like she doesn't have social skills, which could be stunted actually as she is an only child, but yeah, it's weird.
I just creeped myself out, so let me get around to my reasons on why I have never had a boyfriend. First, I can be quite loud, obnoxious and brash. I talk like I'm one of the guys, I'm vulgar and can be quite abrasive. I may not seem as feminine as I really am I considere myself more or less the best damn Drag Queen ever because if I was a guy I think I'd be a drag queen, if not that then I'd be gay. Second, I'm overweight. Why would anyone want to date an overweight chick who never flaunts or oversized assets. Hell, I only draw attention to my chest when I'm making fun of it. They're like painful, natural air bags, flotation devices, I can use my chest as a shelf to hold things, which I have done before. My chest can enter a room before my feet do. I've got more, but I have a large chest that I cover up because it's not just large, it's flabby and I'm fat. Third, I have too many guy friends. I said before I kind of act like I'm one of the guys, well it doesn't help that most of my friends are guys. I prefer being around or talking to guy. My best friend is a guy, most of the fencers are guys. I assume that it either looks like I'm dating one of my guy friends, or guys think that a friend of mine will 'steal me away' during a relationship. Fourth, I value intelligence to some degree, and displaying it. It takes more than brightly colored feathers and a skillful dance to attract this mate, you have to show you have a brain that's useful for something. Yes, I love an attractive body, few people don't, I mean, who wants to look at someone they consider ugly, fuck society's perception of what's attractive. What I really like is a brain, someone I can have an intelligent conversation with, but also knows how to have a great stupid conversation. They don't have to know all the things I know, it's better if they don't and they can make something I don't get understandable. We can both bring something to the table, and of course some mutual things, but who really gets in a good relationship with someone they don't have something in common with. Too many guys run around acting like chickens with their heads cut off. Being intelligent is one thing, displaying it is another beast all together. Fifth, being able to take my bullshit. I go back and forth all the time from being sane to being ridiculous, so being able to deal with me and my bullshit is pretty much a necessary. That's a given about any sort of relationship if you really thing about it. I'm a vain son of a bitch sometimes, in that vanity is intelligence, now just physical attributes.
I realized how that last paragraph was written switched mid-way through, but ehh, it all still gets the point I was intending across, I think. I'm too ridiculous for anyone, and that's why I'm alone. I also figure that why rush into something with someone I either barely know, or don't really like. Someone will accept my ridiculous ass at some point, and then who knows. Until then I fly solo, paralleling people every now and again before I'm back on my own.
*edit*
So, the saga of idiocy continues. The pirate outfit he's talking about is simple. I was dressed in a striped red and gold tunic-ish shirt, white skirt and had a scarf in my hair for a banquet I went to. I was at my university's sport club banquet as one of the representatives for the fencing club, I realized with a saber in my hand I kind of looked like a pirate and thought the picture was fun. My cousin on the other hand thought it was lame. He says I have an attitude because I act like I was raised educated, I'm sorry* if acting like I have common sense is offensive to you, but fuck off. Really. What the fuck does he mean by presentable? Wearing hoochie skirts and low cut shirt? Wearing what's popular? Fat people don't look good in that shit, and it's shit. Fuck fads, I work with clay twice a week and various drawing supplies the rest of the week. I don't have time for that shit I'm function over fashion. I don't consider 'feminine' clothing to be all that functional, which is why I stray away from it usually. But, when I need to dress nicer than I normally do, I have nicer things, but if I know I'll be using something that stains and messes up good clothing why should I wear it? He needs to stop focusing on my life and get a job and an education and better himself. He's not from skid-row, he's from a damn suburb of Cleveland, OH, an upper-middle class suburb at that. ['Skid Row' Little Shop of Horrors Watch the first 30 seconds]. Learning how to type properly he can do from home. Trying to decipher his last message I realized it's all one sentence with no period at the end. My ten year old sister can write better than him, and she's a gat damn kid 12 years his junior.
*Edit 2* My retarded cousin has shown a lack of reading comprehension and straight up ignorance. I can't talk to this fool. I'd rather be poor and fucking homeless than to go to him with his normal like of 'girls n cash n cars'. I'm about to drop him from facebook. He does nothing positive for me and my decided upon life style.
Jasmine P.
* Not sorry in the least.
I don't really care for bringing my lack of a love life to attention unless I'm ranting about it. I didn't want to really have a conversation about it with a cousin I barely know. I was also tired of his writing as if he doesn't know the fucking language. I don't really know why he writes like he doesn't know proper grammar and sentence structure, so I tend to ignore him on Facebook until he decides to say something to me, which was sadly the case this time. This isn't the worst written post from him, but he's had some that just made my brothers and myself wonder what the fuck happened when he got older.
Brenton, my cousin, is 21, has a kid, is also an uncle, and is ignorantly proud of having not finished college, because he now has a family. His sister also never finished college before having a kid. My family values education so we don't think he should be so proud of having a kid and barely attained a college education, not even a 2-year partial degree thing. He's proud of his "baby's mama" and joined the army to appease her father. I can't remember if he got married. As far as I'm concerned, my cousin has not acquired anything to be able to criticise my life nore my lackthereof of a significant other. He only has a few months over me, which isn't enough for me to really respect his opinion. I humor him, in my mind because he'll ask me the same sort of question every few months, I respond once or twice, then I ignore him. He has some obsession with my having a boyfriend. Part of me does, but I have better things to do than wait for someone else to 'make me happy'.
I've gone 21 years on my own, I've really only wanted someone for the past 6 years. I haven't hd one for a few reasons: in high school any guy I was interested in was gay or taken. In college that has persisted, but I have attempted to pursue guys which failed each time. Now I'm content on my own, it's only when I start PMS-ing that I want somebody. It gets annoying, but it doesn't last long until I'm content to being back on my own. I love me, I worship me on a daily basis and I make myself the before fucking food ever. I feel like I'm bragging, and I probably am, when I tell people the awesome things I make for myself. Cornish hens, pan-cooked boneless pork ribs, steak, pots of chicken noodle soup. I decided if I don't make awesome things for myself, why does anyone I meet from here on in deserve things I don't give myself, or those types of things.
I'm on my own and I'm well enough as is. I have plenty of friends, I have a bunch of guy friends so it works out. I get them to do things for me, I pay them back. I'm around guys in general all the time that helps me because I can't stand being around girls all the time. Hell, my roommate this year, Megan, she weirds me out a little. she has some obsession with talking to me every time I walk in, EVERY TIME! If I open the door to the bathroom she's there sometimes, wanting to talk. She'll watch me cook, we're not even talking, and she'll just watch me cook. It's kind of creepy. I don't get it. I don't have anything interesting to say, but she'll be there. I've no problem talking, I generally talk most people's ears off, but it's an odd situation that kind of makes my skin crawl. It's like she doesn't have social skills, which could be stunted actually as she is an only child, but yeah, it's weird.
I just creeped myself out, so let me get around to my reasons on why I have never had a boyfriend. First, I can be quite loud, obnoxious and brash. I talk like I'm one of the guys, I'm vulgar and can be quite abrasive. I may not seem as feminine as I really am I considere myself more or less the best damn Drag Queen ever because if I was a guy I think I'd be a drag queen, if not that then I'd be gay. Second, I'm overweight. Why would anyone want to date an overweight chick who never flaunts or oversized assets. Hell, I only draw attention to my chest when I'm making fun of it. They're like painful, natural air bags, flotation devices, I can use my chest as a shelf to hold things, which I have done before. My chest can enter a room before my feet do. I've got more, but I have a large chest that I cover up because it's not just large, it's flabby and I'm fat. Third, I have too many guy friends. I said before I kind of act like I'm one of the guys, well it doesn't help that most of my friends are guys. I prefer being around or talking to guy. My best friend is a guy, most of the fencers are guys. I assume that it either looks like I'm dating one of my guy friends, or guys think that a friend of mine will 'steal me away' during a relationship. Fourth, I value intelligence to some degree, and displaying it. It takes more than brightly colored feathers and a skillful dance to attract this mate, you have to show you have a brain that's useful for something. Yes, I love an attractive body, few people don't, I mean, who wants to look at someone they consider ugly, fuck society's perception of what's attractive. What I really like is a brain, someone I can have an intelligent conversation with, but also knows how to have a great stupid conversation. They don't have to know all the things I know, it's better if they don't and they can make something I don't get understandable. We can both bring something to the table, and of course some mutual things, but who really gets in a good relationship with someone they don't have something in common with. Too many guys run around acting like chickens with their heads cut off. Being intelligent is one thing, displaying it is another beast all together. Fifth, being able to take my bullshit. I go back and forth all the time from being sane to being ridiculous, so being able to deal with me and my bullshit is pretty much a necessary. That's a given about any sort of relationship if you really thing about it. I'm a vain son of a bitch sometimes, in that vanity is intelligence, now just physical attributes.
I realized how that last paragraph was written switched mid-way through, but ehh, it all still gets the point I was intending across, I think. I'm too ridiculous for anyone, and that's why I'm alone. I also figure that why rush into something with someone I either barely know, or don't really like. Someone will accept my ridiculous ass at some point, and then who knows. Until then I fly solo, paralleling people every now and again before I'm back on my own.
*edit*
So, the saga of idiocy continues. The pirate outfit he's talking about is simple. I was dressed in a striped red and gold tunic-ish shirt, white skirt and had a scarf in my hair for a banquet I went to. I was at my university's sport club banquet as one of the representatives for the fencing club, I realized with a saber in my hand I kind of looked like a pirate and thought the picture was fun. My cousin on the other hand thought it was lame. He says I have an attitude because I act like I was raised educated, I'm sorry* if acting like I have common sense is offensive to you, but fuck off. Really. What the fuck does he mean by presentable? Wearing hoochie skirts and low cut shirt? Wearing what's popular? Fat people don't look good in that shit, and it's shit. Fuck fads, I work with clay twice a week and various drawing supplies the rest of the week. I don't have time for that shit I'm function over fashion. I don't consider 'feminine' clothing to be all that functional, which is why I stray away from it usually. But, when I need to dress nicer than I normally do, I have nicer things, but if I know I'll be using something that stains and messes up good clothing why should I wear it? He needs to stop focusing on my life and get a job and an education and better himself. He's not from skid-row, he's from a damn suburb of Cleveland, OH, an upper-middle class suburb at that. ['Skid Row' Little Shop of Horrors Watch the first 30 seconds]. Learning how to type properly he can do from home. Trying to decipher his last message I realized it's all one sentence with no period at the end. My ten year old sister can write better than him, and she's a gat damn kid 12 years his junior.
*Edit 2* My retarded cousin has shown a lack of reading comprehension and straight up ignorance. I can't talk to this fool. I'd rather be poor and fucking homeless than to go to him with his normal like of 'girls n cash n cars'. I'm about to drop him from facebook. He does nothing positive for me and my decided upon life style.Jasmine P.
* Not sorry in the least.
December 24, 2009
2009 in Review and Reflection
This year has been tumultuous. I gave myself the beginning of an education in movies and cinema. I've read a bit, more comics. And I made my biggest life change in a while, I switched college majors. If you care enough for more detail and a lot more griping, feel free to read the archives, this is a gloss over of the year.
From the top, January. I decided back in January that I was going to watch 365 movies in the year, more or less, one for every day of the year. I had a short lead, but then school happened and my plans came crashing down. I continued on and it was rough depending on how classes were going. I stuck to my own DVDs for a long while, but eventually stated renting more movies. I switched my rules to those on the View Askew boards after about three weeks. It's been a fun and interesting challenge. My super fucking awesome Creative Zen X-Fi got stolen by one of my roommates friends on the gatdamned Inauguration Day, which is fucking bull shit. I stopped talking to her seriously after that shit. We'd been on rocky terms since the previous November, as far as I was concerned. It was also no skin off my back to not talk to her anymore; we were never really that close to begin with. In late January, I believe, I followed Seph_Hunter on dA, which plays into other things throughout the year. Movie wise I was all across the board watching any random movie on Video OnDemand or new DVDs I had. It’s when I went through my age of watching 90’s ‘indie cinema’ by that I mean I started with Robert Rodriguez’s movies. I went through most of his by the end of February, then switched gears to Kevin Smith and on to Quentin Tarantino.
February was cold. More movies were watched and I planned for a surgery for my hidradenitis suppurativa. Gearing up for surgery sucked, aside from the pain killers, those were still nice. I apparently drank with Ian and Nicole, that’s when we crashed at Ian’s place. In February is also when we went to the VIWFA tournament in Charlottesville, VA. That was a pretty fun trip. I was really bothered by the hidradenitis. Shit fucking hurt, was itchy and uncomfortable. Ahh, I had my random driving adventure to Elizabeth City because I was bored one night. Really uneventful. On the movie front I worked my way through Kev Smith seriously, then Tarantino. The Kev Smith movies lasted a while.
March, had my surgery. I loved the morphine, and being relatively stoned for the following three to four weeks. Yup, I kicked off my month with a surgery at the tail end of spring break. That fucking sucked. I was in so much pain, I’m still periodically in a lot of pain. I paid a lot less attention in my English class after Spring Break because we had gotten into poetry, and I was bored with the poetry. I wrote about food for a journal. It’s so friggin’ trite, I was too out of it to really write properly, but I tried to. Movies were more Kev Smith then a bunch of things that have very little to do with one another.
April sucked. I got depressed about not having my mother once more, but I did write a bitchin' poem 'An Abecedarian About April' yeah, rockin' the alliteration in the title for the win. I bought a show called 'Dead Like Me' and got into an awesome conversation with Seph on Twitter about Bryan Fuller, which has since lead me to being a Fuller Fan. I've since watched most of his shows on DVD, or Hulu, depending. It's been sweet. Fuller’s stuff has been amazing. Seriously, watching Dead Like Me got me through my depression that I assume was related to my mother’s death from 2.5 years ago. I felt a lot better once I finished the show, then drove to Hampton for some friggin’ Waffle House at 5am, and I made it back before traffic. It was alright. April was the awkward that was the sentencing of the rowing club for being idiots. It really was horrible to have to listen to these other students explain their guilt or innocence to us, then have to lay down the punishment, knowing that campus could change the ‘verdict’ if they felt so inclined. Hmm, April was the end of the semester, that’s when I started finding and watching more Emile Hirsch movies. Sexy boy. April, when my heart was broken by a boy I actually knew. Well, the breaking was in May, but it started in April. April’s movie connection seems to just be Robert Downey Jr. flicks, which is just fine with me. It went from Jake Gyllenhaal to RDJ with Zodiac as the linking film. That’s something I started working on, having some sort of theme across the movies aside from the director. The theme was pretty much just actors.
From the top, January. I decided back in January that I was going to watch 365 movies in the year, more or less, one for every day of the year. I had a short lead, but then school happened and my plans came crashing down. I continued on and it was rough depending on how classes were going. I stuck to my own DVDs for a long while, but eventually stated renting more movies. I switched my rules to those on the View Askew boards after about three weeks. It's been a fun and interesting challenge. My super fucking awesome Creative Zen X-Fi got stolen by one of my roommates friends on the gatdamned Inauguration Day, which is fucking bull shit. I stopped talking to her seriously after that shit. We'd been on rocky terms since the previous November, as far as I was concerned. It was also no skin off my back to not talk to her anymore; we were never really that close to begin with. In late January, I believe, I followed Seph_Hunter on dA, which plays into other things throughout the year. Movie wise I was all across the board watching any random movie on Video OnDemand or new DVDs I had. It’s when I went through my age of watching 90’s ‘indie cinema’ by that I mean I started with Robert Rodriguez’s movies. I went through most of his by the end of February, then switched gears to Kevin Smith and on to Quentin Tarantino.
February was cold. More movies were watched and I planned for a surgery for my hidradenitis suppurativa. Gearing up for surgery sucked, aside from the pain killers, those were still nice. I apparently drank with Ian and Nicole, that’s when we crashed at Ian’s place. In February is also when we went to the VIWFA tournament in Charlottesville, VA. That was a pretty fun trip. I was really bothered by the hidradenitis. Shit fucking hurt, was itchy and uncomfortable. Ahh, I had my random driving adventure to Elizabeth City because I was bored one night. Really uneventful. On the movie front I worked my way through Kev Smith seriously, then Tarantino. The Kev Smith movies lasted a while.
March, had my surgery. I loved the morphine, and being relatively stoned for the following three to four weeks. Yup, I kicked off my month with a surgery at the tail end of spring break. That fucking sucked. I was in so much pain, I’m still periodically in a lot of pain. I paid a lot less attention in my English class after Spring Break because we had gotten into poetry, and I was bored with the poetry. I wrote about food for a journal. It’s so friggin’ trite, I was too out of it to really write properly, but I tried to. Movies were more Kev Smith then a bunch of things that have very little to do with one another.
April sucked. I got depressed about not having my mother once more, but I did write a bitchin' poem 'An Abecedarian About April' yeah, rockin' the alliteration in the title for the win. I bought a show called 'Dead Like Me' and got into an awesome conversation with Seph on Twitter about Bryan Fuller, which has since lead me to being a Fuller Fan. I've since watched most of his shows on DVD, or Hulu, depending. It's been sweet. Fuller’s stuff has been amazing. Seriously, watching Dead Like Me got me through my depression that I assume was related to my mother’s death from 2.5 years ago. I felt a lot better once I finished the show, then drove to Hampton for some friggin’ Waffle House at 5am, and I made it back before traffic. It was alright. April was the awkward that was the sentencing of the rowing club for being idiots. It really was horrible to have to listen to these other students explain their guilt or innocence to us, then have to lay down the punishment, knowing that campus could change the ‘verdict’ if they felt so inclined. Hmm, April was the end of the semester, that’s when I started finding and watching more Emile Hirsch movies. Sexy boy. April, when my heart was broken by a boy I actually knew. Well, the breaking was in May, but it started in April. April’s movie connection seems to just be Robert Downey Jr. flicks, which is just fine with me. It went from Jake Gyllenhaal to RDJ with Zodiac as the linking film. That’s something I started working on, having some sort of theme across the movies aside from the director. The theme was pretty much just actors.
May finished off the school year, and lead into summer school. I finally had the chance to watch the hell out of movies, and I did. The semester was over, I was taking one summer school class and that was twice a week in the mornings. Maybe it was three times a week, I can’t remember anymore. During this time I went out on a date with the guy from April, then he never calls nor answers his phone when I call. I hold out for another month before cursing him and giving up. The last Monday of the month is a naming ceremony at my mom’s office, they decided to honor her memory by naming a meeting room after her. I was able to return home after finish a final paper and moving into Jon and Josh’s place for the duration of the summer. It was nice to see my Gramma, since it’s too long of a drive to get up to New York. Well, I’d be cool with it if I was hanging with friends, I don’t really want to just go up on my own, especially not from Norfolk. Movies watched were following Hirsch, and picking up old movies that I’d been thinking about watching.
June I did nothing for most of June except for sleep, not take care of my surgery sites, then I went to Wisconsin for a week. I had my first drink in a bar out there, too. I was out there for the Summer Wetlands Association’s yearly conference. It was an excellent opportunity when I was still seriously thinking about becoming a botanist. I had been on the fence, but that kept me in the botanical frame of mind until I returned to Norfolk when I ultimately changed my mind. My biggest reason for changing my major is that being a botanist isn’t really what I wanted out of life. I wanted to draw cartoons and I finally decided to accept what I’d known all along, that I shouldn’t be a scientist, that I should hone my craft and become a comic artist. Back in Norfolk I proceeded to lounge around every day because I had nothing to do. I marathoned the first Pushing Daisies in early June the bought season 2 when it finally got released on DVD. That show and Wonderfalls, which I watched earlier in June, had me loving Lee Pace. Fucking adorable man right there. June movies were Emile Hirsch, then random other it seems. Most months didn’t have a theme that lasted more than a week.
July was more of the same. I was a lay-about. I went to Borjo, drank coffee and befriended more of the employees. Most constructive thing I think I did was rip into a poorly written letter that someone a part of Avatar wrote that was reposted by a movie critic who had criticized the movie back in July. It’s December, I’m not digging the movie. I know plenty of people are, but I don’t want to see it. The story doesn’t sound that interesting and why do non-mammalian creatures have breasts? I could go on and on, but the sooner I let it all go the sooner I can get past the bit blue cat-people bull shit. July has a lot of action-y movies. Some ridiculous movies, and movies that I was finally getting to while renting more movies from specific directors, or written by directors but directed by someone else. July also features Al Pacino; I watched The Godfather Trilogy and a lot of his movies from when he was younger.
August I went home got a new pair of glasses made, and rear ended someone when I came back to Norfolk. That sucked. The car I had in between was nice. A Pontiac something or other. When Dorien came down to sign off on the check for repairs it was his birthday, so I took him to lunch at IHOP. That’s nothing really special, but he doesn’t go often because the nearest one to us home in Reston is out in Vienna. It was nice being just the two of us. I showed him the place I’m currently staying in down at school. Time passes, classes started and I had one hell of a first week. I had to rush my moving because Jon came back early, I was trying to get class stuff straightened out and I thought something was wrong with my car. Getting fencing up and going was hell because Rec Sports decided to claim we hadn’t turned in things that I knew had already been turned in. That got going, then I got to drive home late as all fucking hell on Friday for my father’s wedding on Saturday. August movies were more Pacino and more action for the most part, it seems, and some Bruce Willis because seeing him as a cop, or in generall running round and shooting people pretty much always makes for a good time.
September was awkward as all hell because that’s when my father got married to someone with the same first name as my mother. I really did not like being there. It was really weird. I had to start tuning it all out to keep from crying. Not from the beauty, but from it being awkward. I started playing songs in my head after I’d stopped making faces at my little sister. The reception was fine, then there was a little shindig at the house with the family and friends. I made it back t Norfolk safely after this drive, just tired of having done the drive twice in one month’s there abouts. Classes settled down, and I spoke with the advisor for Art, and learned what I’d have to do to change my major. I explained that I wanted to draw educational biology comics to sell to school systems. I wrote my rant with the best title, ‘I’m a Judgemental Scunt’ about my opinion about current women’s fashion. September’s movies were Directed by Edgar Wright, features Robert DeNiro, or filled whatever other odd requirements I was interested in then.
October was more class and Fall Break in which I drove home and hung out with Alex. I can’t of anything really special that happened then. I got into Woodstock a lot in early October. I watched the documentary and bought the soundtracks which are the live recordings from the day. Watched some Guy Ritchie flicks, was all across the board for movie viewing. Watching what I could when I could. I was depressed for half of October which led into doing nothing interesting. I got a kidney infection and missed 5 days of classes. I had some insane cabin fever from that. I pray I don’t get another kidney infection ever, that was just really annoying after a while.
November, I get over the infection and turn 21, but can’t drink because I’m still on antibiotics. After that, I drink, that Saturday actually, with Brian and other Borjo people at a benefit for Jon who got concussed over the summer. It was fun drinking my first time legally, but I didn’t drink enough nor fast enough to get drunk and that did make me sad. It was great to hang out with people and not be a lonely bore. Classes sucked, I hated English all semester and Thanksgiving rolls around. My drive home is made exponentially better because I pick up Alex for the drive, so being in the car for five hours is nothing because there’s a distraction, and he’s driving. My brothers give me a new phone as a belated birthday gift, and then I spend about half of Wednesday and Thursday cooking for dinner. I got mad stressed out from cooking and latent depression and PSM all rolled into one big mess of boil emotion and hatred which spilled out when I yelled at Miguel on Friday. That sucked. Fuck, I was so gat damned depressed for the rest of the day and accomplished very little over break. November’s movies were across the board again. I sought out some Cohen Brothers stuff but all in all just interesting movies that I heard of around or I’d been sitting on getting around to watching.
December finished out classes. There were some minor adventures with people from Borjo and a random adventure on my own. I spent a lot of my time outside of class in Borjo, chatting up the employees more and just being a presence there. I fed my caffeine addiction like whoa but it was a great place for down time after classes. I think I’m becoming closer friends with people there, I really hope it’s not just in my head because that would be lame. I finished up classes and took finals, one of which sucked a fucking lot. I spent more time working on Cinema hoping to get it up online for early 2010, but I’ll get around to my art in a bit. Actually I have not much else to say, the month isn’t over, there’s another week and a day until the end of the year, hell the end of the decade. Moves were all over, and as of December 24th I am 3 movies from accomplishing my goal. I will continue to count until the year is over, then it will all be posted together as one mega post before I start up for 2010 with the same goal, just different rules.
As for my artwork for the year. I created some new no-world characters and a lot of characters for Cinema. I’ve spent about half the year re-working the characters, refining the art, and thinking about the stories to get it ready for being posted once a week with the hopes of updating more often up to three times a week by the time I graduate. For the uninitiated Cinema is a comic revolving around 4 high school juniors, their day to day school lives and their film making hobby. The story will not be presented in any true chronological order instead each chapter will for the most part deal with an event in their lives. Some chapters will be the movies they have made. After having spent this past year watching movies from mostly America, but from different times and seeing different motivations and ideas Cinema is also a celebration of the cinema and of comics because I love both. Over the past 6-7 months I have worked to round out the world and the characters much more. Aside from the initial 4, then their supporting I have increased secondary and tertiary characters so the world of the comic can work much more smoothly and logically. When the comic is posted I will be happy to share it with the internet.
Aside from working on Cinema this year I have taken some of my perfect story worlds and added chaos and rifts. They were too saccharine and one a couple was together nothing could shake them. That I’ve shaken up a little. Some characters have new family members and some have new friends. There’s no more story than the characters themselves but they will be put to some sort of use. I have started using new supplies this year, nib pens and ink. I like the challenge for these pens and my work and learning more about drawing comics and working in general. I think from this past January I have improved in making my character designs stronger and more unique. I think my inking in improving and aspects of my anatomy works out better now than it did before. I’ve been drawing more in the style required for Cinema than anything else, but I feel that the improvements can still be seen across different cartoon styles. I have officially changed majors from biology to art and look forward to what challenges await and improving my work.
I don’t like the idea of making resolutions for a new year, a thought I’ve touched on before. What I will say about, for, 2010 is bring it on. Bring on your joys, your pains, your sorrow and your happiness. I will do my best to succeed and to not lose to you New Year. I Look forward to getting Cinema online in the coming months and to my artwork improving. I look forward to the freaks and geeks I’ll meet, to the disagreements and the change. I look forward to personal growth and the chance to prove to people that I am the adult I pretend to be, that I’m better than that. Most of all I look forward to new adventures both small and large. It’s another year, like so many past, but there’s still something nice and shiny about it all. Life will happen. I’ve bought my ticket, I’m ready to take my ride.
Jasmine P.
June 29, 2009
Crossroads: Built to Help, Only Impede
I was originally going to do a write up of the past week I spent in Wisconsin, but this seemed to be a bit more pertinent. I still want to write up about the week before I forget. That's why Twitter's nice, I wrote some stuff up there most days, so I can review it and remind myself what I did and what to write about. But for now, less about last week and more about me.
I've in a funk, again. I don't know what to do to break it. I've spent the past few days since returning to Norfolk watching Wonderfalls and Pushing Daisies, which I guess I can include in my review blog. But not right now. I'm at that annoying impasse where I don't know what I want to do. Not with my education and not with tomorrow. I can't draw, so write I must.
I've recently fallen in love with writing things by hand. I hand wrote a note to a woman from New York, more to be expounded upon in the SWS/Wisconsin journal. But I kind of want to write more people letters. One to Scott, another to Ralph...that's it. Yeah, so two letters. There's the personal touch of recieving mail, and writing them. They take time, and even once the idea is written, there's writing a presentable form of the letter.
Well, let's start somewhere. Is It Okay If I Call You Mine? written and sung by Paul McCrane. Ironic time to play this song. This is kind of how I feel about Paul, but also at the moment, men in general. Kind of. I mean, first there is my interest in someone who hasn't called me back. I fear his phone is lost or something. Then there's Phillip, who's interest in my was professed by two other people in drunken stupor. I doubt they remember telling me this, but a large part of me doesn't want to inquire about it, but if someone cares, why not try for something. Then there's Beau, and that one I assume is all in my head. He's a cutie, and I could have sworn just last week when I friended him on facebook he was in a relationship with someone, but that's beside the point. Interest in him came from his drunken excitement in seeing me. Yeah, prefixed by drunken, so who knows. I have also decided that the actors Lee Pace and Tyrone Lietso. Bt incrredible cute and adorable. I see Paul is Pace's performace from PD, which makes me think he's still quite in the running for my heart for things more serous, but at the same time, I haven't seen the man/boy in a month! A month! He hasn't answered his phone or anything. I'm sitting in the middle of a road of attention, attraction and affection [alliterative a...] and not a peep. I tied calling about thirty minutes ago. Maybe he'll call. I hope so. Hell, I want the simplicity of a kiss. I want and crave contact. So many people, so close and yet oh so terribly far.
Like aways, I know what I want, but differently, I have potential venues, but won't go for any of them. I was fine, when I almost had someone, now? Ha! I'm back to just plain needing someone. I need something to guide my attention, to help motivate me. For whatever reason I've actually made the Fourth of July into something important and want someone to spend the night with. I normally couldn't give a rat's ass for the damn day, but apparently in my vulnerable state I want someone. Last week I was distracted, as with the week before, but now, it's me and only me.
This is an island that sucks. Maybe someone will actually call. The Ficus might, but that's not as pressing to me as pretty much anyone else calling. I want attention. I want to be loved. I want to be romantically loved. Hell, I know plenty of people on this stupid orb love me, platonically, but I want a romantic relationship. Pining, I'm pining away for most anything.
Aside from my heart, I was feeling a change of pace for a short period f time and going back to science for a degree, but now I'm feeling art again. I'm also feeling not earning a degree and just striking out on my own. Dorien and Miguel keep saying how hard it is, but they haven't done that. They both almost got away, then went crawling back home. I'm not doing that. Love or not, I'm getting out of this crummy state. I'm getting away where all the disturbed girls are. My papa never put his ping-ping in my po-po, but there is something rotten in the Denver of Virginia. And the Denmark too.
Apparenlty, I've stopping caring about who might stumble upon this piece of privacy, and that's well enough. It's here for someone to read, and not just for me to write. I dunno, maybe I'll escape the easiest way I know how, into the tombs of a new book. Well, new, old, re-read, or something I left to be enjoyed at a later date. I dunno, maybe I'm a little inspired from eading the writings of Jonathan Ames who had his writings published, and they were of a varying private nature, personal if nothing else. Maybe it's better to toss life out to the void of it's reality and see who stops and inspects. Maybe something good will come out of it. With my luck, nothing will, but that's also just as well. I always want someone to read these, but at the same time, I seriously want no one to read them.
Jasmine P.
I've in a funk, again. I don't know what to do to break it. I've spent the past few days since returning to Norfolk watching Wonderfalls and Pushing Daisies, which I guess I can include in my review blog. But not right now. I'm at that annoying impasse where I don't know what I want to do. Not with my education and not with tomorrow. I can't draw, so write I must.
I've recently fallen in love with writing things by hand. I hand wrote a note to a woman from New York, more to be expounded upon in the SWS/Wisconsin journal. But I kind of want to write more people letters. One to Scott, another to Ralph...that's it. Yeah, so two letters. There's the personal touch of recieving mail, and writing them. They take time, and even once the idea is written, there's writing a presentable form of the letter.
Well, let's start somewhere. Is It Okay If I Call You Mine? written and sung by Paul McCrane. Ironic time to play this song. This is kind of how I feel about Paul, but also at the moment, men in general. Kind of. I mean, first there is my interest in someone who hasn't called me back. I fear his phone is lost or something. Then there's Phillip, who's interest in my was professed by two other people in drunken stupor. I doubt they remember telling me this, but a large part of me doesn't want to inquire about it, but if someone cares, why not try for something. Then there's Beau, and that one I assume is all in my head. He's a cutie, and I could have sworn just last week when I friended him on facebook he was in a relationship with someone, but that's beside the point. Interest in him came from his drunken excitement in seeing me. Yeah, prefixed by drunken, so who knows. I have also decided that the actors Lee Pace and Tyrone Lietso. Bt incrredible cute and adorable. I see Paul is Pace's performace from PD, which makes me think he's still quite in the running for my heart for things more serous, but at the same time, I haven't seen the man/boy in a month! A month! He hasn't answered his phone or anything. I'm sitting in the middle of a road of attention, attraction and affection [alliterative a...] and not a peep. I tied calling about thirty minutes ago. Maybe he'll call. I hope so. Hell, I want the simplicity of a kiss. I want and crave contact. So many people, so close and yet oh so terribly far.
Like aways, I know what I want, but differently, I have potential venues, but won't go for any of them. I was fine, when I almost had someone, now? Ha! I'm back to just plain needing someone. I need something to guide my attention, to help motivate me. For whatever reason I've actually made the Fourth of July into something important and want someone to spend the night with. I normally couldn't give a rat's ass for the damn day, but apparently in my vulnerable state I want someone. Last week I was distracted, as with the week before, but now, it's me and only me.
This is an island that sucks. Maybe someone will actually call. The Ficus might, but that's not as pressing to me as pretty much anyone else calling. I want attention. I want to be loved. I want to be romantically loved. Hell, I know plenty of people on this stupid orb love me, platonically, but I want a romantic relationship. Pining, I'm pining away for most anything.
Aside from my heart, I was feeling a change of pace for a short period f time and going back to science for a degree, but now I'm feeling art again. I'm also feeling not earning a degree and just striking out on my own. Dorien and Miguel keep saying how hard it is, but they haven't done that. They both almost got away, then went crawling back home. I'm not doing that. Love or not, I'm getting out of this crummy state. I'm getting away where all the disturbed girls are. My papa never put his ping-ping in my po-po, but there is something rotten in the Denver of Virginia. And the Denmark too.
Apparenlty, I've stopping caring about who might stumble upon this piece of privacy, and that's well enough. It's here for someone to read, and not just for me to write. I dunno, maybe I'll escape the easiest way I know how, into the tombs of a new book. Well, new, old, re-read, or something I left to be enjoyed at a later date. I dunno, maybe I'm a little inspired from eading the writings of Jonathan Ames who had his writings published, and they were of a varying private nature, personal if nothing else. Maybe it's better to toss life out to the void of it's reality and see who stops and inspects. Maybe something good will come out of it. With my luck, nothing will, but that's also just as well. I always want someone to read these, but at the same time, I seriously want no one to read them.
Jasmine P.
April 3, 2009
100 and Epic
So, this is my 100th journal, and do I have a lot of things to say. I seriously don't have the time right now to write, but here are some bullets that will give you a small taste of what's to come, and it will remind me off the many things I'd like to cover.
Well, this has taken me so long to get around to writing, that it has ended up being more more epic recant of my past week, for the most part. So, here we go, after putting it all off, let's get this ball rolling.
On Sunday I got a text message from Glenn asking someone to go to some meeting that Rec Sports is having on Monday. I think nothing of it, and say I can go. Monday rolls around and I'm so bone tired I fall asleep in three of my four classes, and I don't think my teacher's really noticed. I do my usual of hitting up the apartment to get my things for my afternoon math class because the meeting is 3-4 and that class starts at 4:20. I get into the meeting a few minutes late after reading more pages of 'My Uncomfortably Boring-Ass Life'. I walk past a small group of students and think nothing of it. Inside the meeting room Dr. Holt and some other people from the Rec Sports President's meetings that I've been to once a month are there and we're finally told that this is an appeals council.
Over Spring Break, Mar 9-13 our Crew club broke some rules and allowed a suspended member of the team to go on the trip, have an under age kid drive a rented truck, and another kid who hadn't passed the swim test to get into a boat on the water. It's a country and probably world wide rule that you need to pass a swim test which is swimming a few laps and treading water, before being allowed into a boat. These kids we were seeing on Monday were regular members of the club, not officers, but this is also the first I'd heard of anything so I was eventually filled in on what had happened back in October.
In October, it got back to ODU that members of the crew team were rowing without lights on their boats, and with many people who hadn't passed their swim test. Last semester's president and vice president were suspended and barred from ever holding an office at ODU ever. So this is some heavy shit that the same club has come back under fire so soon for some more stupid shit. We eventually decide that these kids lift their suspension for the rest of the semester, so only 4 weeks, and I think we gave them a probation for this coming fall semester, so if they're in the rowing club and some shit goes down that they're a part of, their infractions from this semester could cause them to have a more severe punishment. So Monday's meeting ended and we dispersed. The punishment isn't read to them until the following day because we ran out of time on Monday. For the sake of the story, I'll continue onto Tuesday's proceedings.
On Tuesday during Activity Hour we see one more member, hand down the same punishment, from the previous group. He had a class and was unable to make the initial meeting. We see the officers on Tuesday and we start from the club secretary who has failed her swim test and prior to the suspensions being handed out, was told by the other officers she was not allowed to participate because she had failed her swim test. But she was still on the water and in trouble when Rec Sports handed out their suspensions, this was an appeals process because these students didn't seem apologetic for putting ODU into a bad public light and giving their club the biggest black mark damn near available, well, given it's a student run organization, their idiocy was supreme. This girl knew about two days prior that the suspended president from the fall was going on the trip and did nothing to prevent him from coming. Her punishment was upholding her suspension and putting her on probation until December 2009. She also has the special requirement for completing all club paperwork and having to complete a swim test before being allowed to do anything really with the club.
The club Treasurer found out the ex-pres was going on their training trip when he was going over who had paid, so he knew only a few days prior to the trip. His punishment was just upholding his suspension and a fall semester probation. The VP knew the ex pres was going a full week before the trip. He accepted the President's [faulty] decision to allow this other kid to go because he knew more than what the current members did. His punishment was the same as the treasurer, but i think there was one other thing.
The President was the ring leader of this little charade. She decided on her own to allow this suspended kid to go on the trip because she figured he could help an outside coach at the place they were headed as a second pair of eyes. This coach they were going to has had some Olympic training, and a slew of other credentials, but this current president figured it wasn't enough and brought a suspended kid, who had been 'rowing in his own boat at the same time and same location as the club boats' on the trip. The suspended kid also drove a rented vehicle, and you can't drive rented vehicles until 21, he was 19. He was a liability issue, and she fucked with the honor code. That's all some pretty serious shit. Our pronouncement for her was she's not allowed to be an officer in that club ever again. She is suspended the rest of this academic year, and on probation until this December. We decided not to send her to the Honor Council, but Rec Sports still has the ability to have her referred to them because they went around the heads of their own department for a few reasons. They went to the Dean of Students to be allowed on this trip, they tried to get sent to a different department of ODU because they thought the black marks from the fall would be erased, but learned that is not the case. She also allowed the suspended kid, only 19, to drive the rented vehicle full of club equipment, and if there had been an accident, they would have fucked with some other Dead at ODU because he paid for the truck rental with his own card. So they were all sorts of wrong.
This all taught me, and the fencing club, who i recounted these tales of crime and punishment to quite promptly at practice Tuesday evening, to a) don't do stupid shit to go up in front of the council in the first place. b) make sure there's no photo evidence. c) just plain don't do it, it's stupid dangerous bullshit.
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To round out Monday, I decided I've been spending too much time on my computer and not just reading, so I take my time and read more of Kevin Smith's second book, My Uncomfortably Boring Ass Life until House Starts. Monday's House was interesting since the perspective was from inside the patient's head. Not hearing the differentials nor the character interaction, aside from how they acted at the bedside, was different. Then, right when House was going to drop some science and finally declare what the disease, my Glenn finally calls. I'd sent him a vague text message talking a bit about the meeting, but he doesn't have the chance to call me until then, when I miss House saving the same. Boo. I rounded out my evening reading until ten-thirty then decide 'fuck it, i need sleep' and hit the bed early.
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Tuesday, Mar 31
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I sleep until 9:30 which is sweet. I get sidetracked by the internet, and don't go to my geology class. I go the part 2 of the epic meeting of drama and punishment then head over the hospital to have all my joyful stitches removed from two, three weeks now, ago from my surgery on the 12th.
I get there and when I check in my appointment has disappeared from the books. What happened is when I went in the week after my surgery because I was worried about how I was healing and in pain that I needed more percocet my real appointment for my stitches to be removed was erased. I got to sit around for about 45minutes, so I read, waiting for my name to be called. Finally, as I'm getting really bored with just waiting, and wanting to go to sleep, and I'm incredibly hungry at this point having not eaten anything all day, I get called. Dr Reed removes the stitches and seriously, one stitch from each set, under each arm, and on his side of my groin, hurt like all hell. I was good about not flinching, but it hurt.
I giggle to more SMod while I hit up WalGreens for more gauze, bandages and some candy. Snacks in tow, I get back to campus and eat my other piece of sirloin I made on Sunday. The mirowave is apparently broken, so I heat my food in the oven, just waiting to eat. I haven't eaten since the previous evening, so this was like, epic hunger. I read a bit more before practice then walk to the gym to hang with the fencers and tell them about everything with the rowing club and their terrible faux pas, but I seem to be the only one to understand the brevity of the situation. Yeah, it wasn't us, but if it ever is, it's highly awkward, and embarassing because the majority of the college campus totally knew about it, the suspensions. I'd rather not have people know that shit happened to us if it did. We're still working at making a good name for ourselves before we go and make a bad one.
I'm feeling hungry, so I hit up IHOP with Nicole, Andrew and Nick. The four of us get out awesome waitress from when the Ficus and I were at IHOP over Spring Break. She was just as snarky, so just as much fun to have.
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Wednesday
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Wednesday is a painful day. I'm just getting used to not having the stitches, so every gat damned motion hurts, again, but now because grativy is taking it's toll on my aching flesh. I go to class on perc because I decide I won't do it without the painkillers. This is a day I decide I need them and by dammit, I have them. I make it through english, they start to kick in at Borjo where I just get sluggish. Not really tired, I'm just not really responsive. I get through the time, then I have a happy fun-time test in Logic. Fucking sucks. I blast through it in bout 30 min, then sit in psych early. Today we learn about Levinson's theory of adult develpment which follows the importance of having a dream. There's also Super, and some third dude, but the third dude is one I find intriguing because back in 2007 i think, I wrote a journal about me andanalysing myself and my career options. This makes me want to write, so I curse that I need to get off campus because the following day is my sister's birthday, and I had yet to buy her a gift.
Post Psych class, I run off campus and by my sister a 20$ gift card to gamestop, and this awesome card that's like a banner. I decide I have the time, so I hit up Local Heroes and buy a few new trades, Empowered and Kev Smith's first Green Arrow trade. I wanted to get Joe Quesada's book that had to do with his interaction with Hollywood, but that book was $35, and I was also spending 30 on two trades. I was also going to grab Frank Miller's second Daredevil since I'd read the first trade last year, but had to hold off because that was another $20, and i needed to save a little.
Get back to campus, go to math and dose midway through the class. I also doodle me in the Invader Zim style on something I have to turn in, thinking it's my personal notes. We're having a homework test on Monday, maybe I'll actually do my work for this one....maybe. Won't hurt my grade. After class I decide I don't want another cafeteria meal, so I call Za and Nicole and we hit up La Herradura. Well, it's me and Nicole because Za's apparently not feeling too well. Dinner was good, I got some burritos. It was all awesome until paying because our friggin' waitress left us sitting for at least 30 min before picking up the tab. What the hell? Bad tip because of that.
Nicole asks me to be a part of a little stidy for her english class. All I have to do is take a fish oil pill every day for two weeks, and a prelim quiz and another in two weeks. It was easy enough, aside from the sudoku, and one or two questions, I believe i got everything else correct. It was just a tedious hour.
I head back to the apatment, play on the internet for an hour then go to bed deciding I need sleep.
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Thuesday
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I get up today and end up wasting a whole mess of time because my roommate's 9:30 has been canceled. I would have taken an early shower and lounged around until my 11:00 class, I end up waiting. Shower's don't take forever, it's drying enough that tape will stick to me so my bandages actually work for the following ~24 hours. I BS some more then go to class, and get there late. I'm also busy trying to get some stuff together, I mail my sister's gift, so she should get it tomorrow, I hope. Hmm, I'm bored in geology then I print out some stuff during Activity Hour before hitting up Del Vich's for two slices of cheese pizza. I carry them to yhe geology building because I have class at 1:30 and it's after 1 as is. I listen to SMod 52 while eating before my class.
Lab is mad easy, then I go off campus...why....I remember. I rented Slacker, Sold Out a Threevening With Kevin Smith and The Lords of Dog Town from the Naro for the weekend. Get back to campus and decide to spend some flex points before the semester is out on some ice cream and some vitamin water from Whitehurst. I run into Za and Josh, her boyfriend before getting back to the apt. We three chat for a time, then I watch Slacker. I end up dosing while watching the movie, so I back track and re-watch half the movie while I made some frankfurters for dinner, and some fries. I'm mildly annoyed because I have no ketchup because, I assume, the MB used it, the cunt. I use hot water to warm up from nacho cheese and eat that on my franks and the fries I'd made. it works out well enough, but not the same as that awesome tomato-y sauce of delicious.
Hit the internet until practice. I'm very uninspired and melancholy at practice tonight and just sit on the side barely watching people practice. It's annoying a little because I've corrected and explained so many times, but there were things that they still do wrong. In my mild depression I decide Reel Big Fish is the band for me, and start off wtih Drunk Again, which I mouth along to twice. I then just let my player play RBF for the next twenty minutes and after locking up the studio and returning the key I just leave. I say 'good bye' but no one seems to notice, which is well enough considering my mood. I spend an hour and a half writing this and feel better, before deciding to go to bed early and write my stupid psych thing in the morning.
My Dream thing will be written later. I want sleep now, and some drugs. Sleep and pills. Tis a sad life I lead.
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Inspired by current topics in Psych class, talk about having a 'dream' and what my current dream is.
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enjoy the peek of what i've been wanting to write for days but haven't had the time to
Jasmine P.
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So, it's all finally been written. I do feel better and ...well, nothing really important for this 'and' but this was written, and now it's also all been put to rest. Just the dream thing, and that I might be fine with not elaborating on. I also feel better since I've jsut plain needed to write.
Well, this has taken me so long to get around to writing, that it has ended up being more more epic recant of my past week, for the most part. So, here we go, after putting it all off, let's get this ball rolling.
On Sunday I got a text message from Glenn asking someone to go to some meeting that Rec Sports is having on Monday. I think nothing of it, and say I can go. Monday rolls around and I'm so bone tired I fall asleep in three of my four classes, and I don't think my teacher's really noticed. I do my usual of hitting up the apartment to get my things for my afternoon math class because the meeting is 3-4 and that class starts at 4:20. I get into the meeting a few minutes late after reading more pages of 'My Uncomfortably Boring-Ass Life'. I walk past a small group of students and think nothing of it. Inside the meeting room Dr. Holt and some other people from the Rec Sports President's meetings that I've been to once a month are there and we're finally told that this is an appeals council.
Over Spring Break, Mar 9-13 our Crew club broke some rules and allowed a suspended member of the team to go on the trip, have an under age kid drive a rented truck, and another kid who hadn't passed the swim test to get into a boat on the water. It's a country and probably world wide rule that you need to pass a swim test which is swimming a few laps and treading water, before being allowed into a boat. These kids we were seeing on Monday were regular members of the club, not officers, but this is also the first I'd heard of anything so I was eventually filled in on what had happened back in October.
In October, it got back to ODU that members of the crew team were rowing without lights on their boats, and with many people who hadn't passed their swim test. Last semester's president and vice president were suspended and barred from ever holding an office at ODU ever. So this is some heavy shit that the same club has come back under fire so soon for some more stupid shit. We eventually decide that these kids lift their suspension for the rest of the semester, so only 4 weeks, and I think we gave them a probation for this coming fall semester, so if they're in the rowing club and some shit goes down that they're a part of, their infractions from this semester could cause them to have a more severe punishment. So Monday's meeting ended and we dispersed. The punishment isn't read to them until the following day because we ran out of time on Monday. For the sake of the story, I'll continue onto Tuesday's proceedings.
On Tuesday during Activity Hour we see one more member, hand down the same punishment, from the previous group. He had a class and was unable to make the initial meeting. We see the officers on Tuesday and we start from the club secretary who has failed her swim test and prior to the suspensions being handed out, was told by the other officers she was not allowed to participate because she had failed her swim test. But she was still on the water and in trouble when Rec Sports handed out their suspensions, this was an appeals process because these students didn't seem apologetic for putting ODU into a bad public light and giving their club the biggest black mark damn near available, well, given it's a student run organization, their idiocy was supreme. This girl knew about two days prior that the suspended president from the fall was going on the trip and did nothing to prevent him from coming. Her punishment was upholding her suspension and putting her on probation until December 2009. She also has the special requirement for completing all club paperwork and having to complete a swim test before being allowed to do anything really with the club.
The club Treasurer found out the ex-pres was going on their training trip when he was going over who had paid, so he knew only a few days prior to the trip. His punishment was just upholding his suspension and a fall semester probation. The VP knew the ex pres was going a full week before the trip. He accepted the President's [faulty] decision to allow this other kid to go because he knew more than what the current members did. His punishment was the same as the treasurer, but i think there was one other thing.
The President was the ring leader of this little charade. She decided on her own to allow this suspended kid to go on the trip because she figured he could help an outside coach at the place they were headed as a second pair of eyes. This coach they were going to has had some Olympic training, and a slew of other credentials, but this current president figured it wasn't enough and brought a suspended kid, who had been 'rowing in his own boat at the same time and same location as the club boats' on the trip. The suspended kid also drove a rented vehicle, and you can't drive rented vehicles until 21, he was 19. He was a liability issue, and she fucked with the honor code. That's all some pretty serious shit. Our pronouncement for her was she's not allowed to be an officer in that club ever again. She is suspended the rest of this academic year, and on probation until this December. We decided not to send her to the Honor Council, but Rec Sports still has the ability to have her referred to them because they went around the heads of their own department for a few reasons. They went to the Dean of Students to be allowed on this trip, they tried to get sent to a different department of ODU because they thought the black marks from the fall would be erased, but learned that is not the case. She also allowed the suspended kid, only 19, to drive the rented vehicle full of club equipment, and if there had been an accident, they would have fucked with some other Dead at ODU because he paid for the truck rental with his own card. So they were all sorts of wrong.
This all taught me, and the fencing club, who i recounted these tales of crime and punishment to quite promptly at practice Tuesday evening, to a) don't do stupid shit to go up in front of the council in the first place. b) make sure there's no photo evidence. c) just plain don't do it, it's stupid dangerous bullshit.
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To round out Monday, I decided I've been spending too much time on my computer and not just reading, so I take my time and read more of Kevin Smith's second book, My Uncomfortably Boring Ass Life until House Starts. Monday's House was interesting since the perspective was from inside the patient's head. Not hearing the differentials nor the character interaction, aside from how they acted at the bedside, was different. Then, right when House was going to drop some science and finally declare what the disease, my Glenn finally calls. I'd sent him a vague text message talking a bit about the meeting, but he doesn't have the chance to call me until then, when I miss House saving the same. Boo. I rounded out my evening reading until ten-thirty then decide 'fuck it, i need sleep' and hit the bed early.
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Tuesday, Mar 31
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I sleep until 9:30 which is sweet. I get sidetracked by the internet, and don't go to my geology class. I go the part 2 of the epic meeting of drama and punishment then head over the hospital to have all my joyful stitches removed from two, three weeks now, ago from my surgery on the 12th.
I get there and when I check in my appointment has disappeared from the books. What happened is when I went in the week after my surgery because I was worried about how I was healing and in pain that I needed more percocet my real appointment for my stitches to be removed was erased. I got to sit around for about 45minutes, so I read, waiting for my name to be called. Finally, as I'm getting really bored with just waiting, and wanting to go to sleep, and I'm incredibly hungry at this point having not eaten anything all day, I get called. Dr Reed removes the stitches and seriously, one stitch from each set, under each arm, and on his side of my groin, hurt like all hell. I was good about not flinching, but it hurt.
I giggle to more SMod while I hit up WalGreens for more gauze, bandages and some candy. Snacks in tow, I get back to campus and eat my other piece of sirloin I made on Sunday. The mirowave is apparently broken, so I heat my food in the oven, just waiting to eat. I haven't eaten since the previous evening, so this was like, epic hunger. I read a bit more before practice then walk to the gym to hang with the fencers and tell them about everything with the rowing club and their terrible faux pas, but I seem to be the only one to understand the brevity of the situation. Yeah, it wasn't us, but if it ever is, it's highly awkward, and embarassing because the majority of the college campus totally knew about it, the suspensions. I'd rather not have people know that shit happened to us if it did. We're still working at making a good name for ourselves before we go and make a bad one.
I'm feeling hungry, so I hit up IHOP with Nicole, Andrew and Nick. The four of us get out awesome waitress from when the Ficus and I were at IHOP over Spring Break. She was just as snarky, so just as much fun to have.
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Wednesday
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Wednesday is a painful day. I'm just getting used to not having the stitches, so every gat damned motion hurts, again, but now because grativy is taking it's toll on my aching flesh. I go to class on perc because I decide I won't do it without the painkillers. This is a day I decide I need them and by dammit, I have them. I make it through english, they start to kick in at Borjo where I just get sluggish. Not really tired, I'm just not really responsive. I get through the time, then I have a happy fun-time test in Logic. Fucking sucks. I blast through it in bout 30 min, then sit in psych early. Today we learn about Levinson's theory of adult develpment which follows the importance of having a dream. There's also Super, and some third dude, but the third dude is one I find intriguing because back in 2007 i think, I wrote a journal about me andanalysing myself and my career options. This makes me want to write, so I curse that I need to get off campus because the following day is my sister's birthday, and I had yet to buy her a gift.
Post Psych class, I run off campus and by my sister a 20$ gift card to gamestop, and this awesome card that's like a banner. I decide I have the time, so I hit up Local Heroes and buy a few new trades, Empowered and Kev Smith's first Green Arrow trade. I wanted to get Joe Quesada's book that had to do with his interaction with Hollywood, but that book was $35, and I was also spending 30 on two trades. I was also going to grab Frank Miller's second Daredevil since I'd read the first trade last year, but had to hold off because that was another $20, and i needed to save a little.
Get back to campus, go to math and dose midway through the class. I also doodle me in the Invader Zim style on something I have to turn in, thinking it's my personal notes. We're having a homework test on Monday, maybe I'll actually do my work for this one....maybe. Won't hurt my grade. After class I decide I don't want another cafeteria meal, so I call Za and Nicole and we hit up La Herradura. Well, it's me and Nicole because Za's apparently not feeling too well. Dinner was good, I got some burritos. It was all awesome until paying because our friggin' waitress left us sitting for at least 30 min before picking up the tab. What the hell? Bad tip because of that.
Nicole asks me to be a part of a little stidy for her english class. All I have to do is take a fish oil pill every day for two weeks, and a prelim quiz and another in two weeks. It was easy enough, aside from the sudoku, and one or two questions, I believe i got everything else correct. It was just a tedious hour.
I head back to the apatment, play on the internet for an hour then go to bed deciding I need sleep.
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Thuesday
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I get up today and end up wasting a whole mess of time because my roommate's 9:30 has been canceled. I would have taken an early shower and lounged around until my 11:00 class, I end up waiting. Shower's don't take forever, it's drying enough that tape will stick to me so my bandages actually work for the following ~24 hours. I BS some more then go to class, and get there late. I'm also busy trying to get some stuff together, I mail my sister's gift, so she should get it tomorrow, I hope. Hmm, I'm bored in geology then I print out some stuff during Activity Hour before hitting up Del Vich's for two slices of cheese pizza. I carry them to yhe geology building because I have class at 1:30 and it's after 1 as is. I listen to SMod 52 while eating before my class.
Lab is mad easy, then I go off campus...why....I remember. I rented Slacker, Sold Out a Threevening With Kevin Smith and The Lords of Dog Town from the Naro for the weekend. Get back to campus and decide to spend some flex points before the semester is out on some ice cream and some vitamin water from Whitehurst. I run into Za and Josh, her boyfriend before getting back to the apt. We three chat for a time, then I watch Slacker. I end up dosing while watching the movie, so I back track and re-watch half the movie while I made some frankfurters for dinner, and some fries. I'm mildly annoyed because I have no ketchup because, I assume, the MB used it, the cunt. I use hot water to warm up from nacho cheese and eat that on my franks and the fries I'd made. it works out well enough, but not the same as that awesome tomato-y sauce of delicious.
Hit the internet until practice. I'm very uninspired and melancholy at practice tonight and just sit on the side barely watching people practice. It's annoying a little because I've corrected and explained so many times, but there were things that they still do wrong. In my mild depression I decide Reel Big Fish is the band for me, and start off wtih Drunk Again, which I mouth along to twice. I then just let my player play RBF for the next twenty minutes and after locking up the studio and returning the key I just leave. I say 'good bye' but no one seems to notice, which is well enough considering my mood. I spend an hour and a half writing this and feel better, before deciding to go to bed early and write my stupid psych thing in the morning.
My Dream thing will be written later. I want sleep now, and some drugs. Sleep and pills. Tis a sad life I lead.
----
Inspired by current topics in Psych class, talk about having a 'dream' and what my current dream is.
----
enjoy the peek of what i've been wanting to write for days but haven't had the time to
Jasmine P.
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So, it's all finally been written. I do feel better and ...well, nothing really important for this 'and' but this was written, and now it's also all been put to rest. Just the dream thing, and that I might be fine with not elaborating on. I also feel better since I've jsut plain needed to write.
March 30, 2009
short
I need to stop taking things so personally. but i think this isn't all my fault. i think i'm pms-ing, which is a bitch. never makes anything good in life. yeah, there's new life, but the whole pms part, not so much.
i think that's why i've been so angry this weekend, and bouncing from happy to angry. it makes sense to me. but i'm going to bed. declared that thirty minutes ago, so time to stop lying.
Jasmine P.
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amend.
i'm too fucking nice, which i think is the reason why i've been the target of mis directed anger as much as i have been. i don't really want to be mean, not my style, i just wish people would stop using me to vent their anger.it's not fair to me.
i think that's why i've been so angry this weekend, and bouncing from happy to angry. it makes sense to me. but i'm going to bed. declared that thirty minutes ago, so time to stop lying.
Jasmine P.
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amend.
i'm too fucking nice, which i think is the reason why i've been the target of mis directed anger as much as i have been. i don't really want to be mean, not my style, i just wish people would stop using me to vent their anger.it's not fair to me.
March 22, 2009
Self-loathing
Its been a long time since I outright hated myself or how I acted. Today was one of those days, one of those times. While I was out Elizabeth called to tell me she was too afraid to move off campus. I have made my resolution that I'm not living on campus anymore. I want to move on, but I was hoping to live with her. My motivation is I want to live with my own rules and not with people I disliked. I'm tired of having to share my living space with people I barely know and don't like, so I guess it works out. I mean, I've know for a long time that the only person I can truly rely on is myself, so I guess it's down to me a wee bit sooner than I thought, but it's what I want. I was a little annoyed and stress. I was annoyed because Elizabeth is so afraid of moving on. I'm trying to break my tethers, I'm fighting to be independent. I'm trying to grow up and she's too afraid of the outside world to be able to make the jump.
I'm a resolute person, I want to as close to the final say in my life as possible. She's not ready for that type of responsibility, I'm ready to try, to prove to the world that I'm an adult in my own right, or to try for it. She can't do that, I was upset that my friend whom I thought could make the trip into proving to the world that she was an adult too was unable to do it. I showed I was upset the way I always have. I cried. I sat in a chair in the middle of a Uni of Mary&Wash gym crying, I tried to sink into music, but I had friends to distract me which was both good and bad. I waxed on it a bit and explained how I was feeling, slightly betrayed, but how I need to move on. Living on campus is holding me back and I need more in my life that I'm in control of, so it's time for me to move on.
So, not too long after I've barely picked up the pieces of me and put myself back together and was almost back to being the strong Jasmine that I show the world I was broken by something as stupid as mushrooms being on my burger at Cheeburger Cheeburger. Nothing tastes as good when you're upset, and I was still upset for another ten minutes. I hated myself. Seriously. To a degree, I hated myself. I hate it when I cry and when I can't get back into control of myself.
Eventually when we were just about done I had calmed myself down, then I spent about ten minutes alone in the Barnes and Noble. I felt much better, then I had to apologize to Ian and AJ because I didn't like how I had acted, but I never like it when I cry especially not when I don't have the chance to sit on my own and get my mind straight. Now, a few hours past, and having written it out and apologized to everyone, except Tristan mostly because I don't know him on facebook, I'm feeling better. I'm back in control of my emotions and I think I can handle things now.
I can nw find a place of my own and be happy. A nice one person apartment, not in some fucking house, but a real apartment, and I'll make my own rules and I'll be happy. Things will be better for me, because I declared it how. Fucking seriously.
Jasmine P.
I'm a resolute person, I want to as close to the final say in my life as possible. She's not ready for that type of responsibility, I'm ready to try, to prove to the world that I'm an adult in my own right, or to try for it. She can't do that, I was upset that my friend whom I thought could make the trip into proving to the world that she was an adult too was unable to do it. I showed I was upset the way I always have. I cried. I sat in a chair in the middle of a Uni of Mary&Wash gym crying, I tried to sink into music, but I had friends to distract me which was both good and bad. I waxed on it a bit and explained how I was feeling, slightly betrayed, but how I need to move on. Living on campus is holding me back and I need more in my life that I'm in control of, so it's time for me to move on.
So, not too long after I've barely picked up the pieces of me and put myself back together and was almost back to being the strong Jasmine that I show the world I was broken by something as stupid as mushrooms being on my burger at Cheeburger Cheeburger. Nothing tastes as good when you're upset, and I was still upset for another ten minutes. I hated myself. Seriously. To a degree, I hated myself. I hate it when I cry and when I can't get back into control of myself.
Eventually when we were just about done I had calmed myself down, then I spent about ten minutes alone in the Barnes and Noble. I felt much better, then I had to apologize to Ian and AJ because I didn't like how I had acted, but I never like it when I cry especially not when I don't have the chance to sit on my own and get my mind straight. Now, a few hours past, and having written it out and apologized to everyone, except Tristan mostly because I don't know him on facebook, I'm feeling better. I'm back in control of my emotions and I think I can handle things now.
I can nw find a place of my own and be happy. A nice one person apartment, not in some fucking house, but a real apartment, and I'll make my own rules and I'll be happy. Things will be better for me, because I declared it how. Fucking seriously.
Jasmine P.
March 15, 2009
Movie and Medical Madness
So, it's been a short period of time and I have a small window of writing ability ot take care of a bit of story telling about my last few days. I blame typos on my little medi-collada I took five minutes prior to attempting to write this.
I spent last weekend hanging with Alex, that was awesome, per usual, and we watched a whole mess of awesome movies, which was pretty sweet. We caught Watchmen, which I enjoyed thuroughly. I made it home on Sunday and spent a few days there before my surgery on Thursday morning. Nothing special happened at home, but I was in a whole mess of pain. That I do remember.
Wendesday Dorien and I drove down to Norfolk. We went to Moe's for a late lunch. We sat around the apartment for a while and I took a nap before eating my last pre-op meal around 9 that night. I didn't consume anything after 10:30/11. I went to bed not too long before midnight. I slept like shit because I didn't take any tylenol. Woke up a few times during the night, and dreamt that my surgery would have to be pushed back because I kept forgetting I couldn't eat, and would eat stuff.
I woke up around 7:44am and got ready. I left the old bandages, but changed the ones from the groin area because those were straight up foul, and not taped to me, like the ones under my arms. Dad got here literally right when we were going to leave and I got to the hospital around 9:47, when they were calling me to make sure I was on my way. I checked in and we hung out in the waiting room until about...10:15 then I left the fam. and headed for pre-op. I got an IV placed in my left hand, and changed into a gown. I was nervous, but tried not to be, I was also cold and said as much.
From the pre-op I was asked a variety of health related questions such as the likelyhood of my being pregant and the last time I had imbibed anything from food, to booze to cigarettes and the frequency. I answered truthfully, not reason not to. Well, aside from how much tylenol I took, that I lied about.
Dr. Reed came in during the second round of the questions and marked me up with a purple pen so they knew where they were going to cut and what not. That was interesting. Mildly awkward...thankfully only mildly. I saw Dorien and Dad one last time, Miguel didn't arrive until I was in my 24hour post op room. I got wheeled into the operation room. It was cold in there, they gave me some warm blankets and had me slide from the first bed to the operation bed. That was a skinny little bed. I laid on it and I think they ran something through IV I think. I remember them putting the mask over my face, the air in it was cold. I was out and I have been told that the surgery went fine. I feel fine two days later.
I remember waking up in the recovery room. It was cold there, and somehow between the surgical studio and the recovery room my IV fell out, so tehy had to try to give me another. I was fine with the first few attempts, but by the 5th attempt to give me an IV from torunaquette all the way to them stabbing me and failing I was getting annoyed and whiney and fidgity. I told them I was cold and after tehy warmed me up a bit they were able to get an Iv into me, in my left arm. And at one point they tried my foot. That one annoyed me. My friggin' foot. I got a few doses of morphine, that was sweet. No pain, and I wanted to sleep.
Terry, my man nurse, kept telling me to breath deeper, I have a penchant for shallow breathing apparently. He was also awesome and gave me some ice chips and apple juice after I was out of surgery for a few hours. He asked me how tolerable my pain was. At it's worst I was only at 6, and at the best in the recovery room I was at about 2. He also got me a bedpan. That was pretty embarassing and awkward, trying to use a bed pan. I was sure that I had peed in the bed and not in the bedpan, but I had to pee. I had to pee a lot.
I was moved form the recovery room to the post-op 24 hour stay around 5 or 6. I was in the room for a few minutes before Dad, Pattie and Dorien got there. I told them about the IV and how I was feeling. I made it to the bathroom again at some point, and I did have fun telling Dad to close his eyes or what not when the doctor's were looking at the bandages or when I went to the bathroom.
Oh, aside from Dr. Reed remember me and the fact that I fenced, my post op doctor I met back in September, Dr. Noorbakhsh also remembered me and my fencing. Weird, seriously. He was nice still, so my stay in thehospital was bearble. I slept terribly that night, and that it the conclusion of the story for now. My next post will tackle Friday and Saturday which will recant my being doped on pain killers and watching TV and trying to type and do things on the computer. Nothing too crazy, but I do want to remember this time, and this is on the internet for the fuck of it. It's not so personal that I need to save it to my HD, and if you think it is, fuck off and find something else to read.
Jasmine P.
I spent last weekend hanging with Alex, that was awesome, per usual, and we watched a whole mess of awesome movies, which was pretty sweet. We caught Watchmen, which I enjoyed thuroughly. I made it home on Sunday and spent a few days there before my surgery on Thursday morning. Nothing special happened at home, but I was in a whole mess of pain. That I do remember.
Wendesday Dorien and I drove down to Norfolk. We went to Moe's for a late lunch. We sat around the apartment for a while and I took a nap before eating my last pre-op meal around 9 that night. I didn't consume anything after 10:30/11. I went to bed not too long before midnight. I slept like shit because I didn't take any tylenol. Woke up a few times during the night, and dreamt that my surgery would have to be pushed back because I kept forgetting I couldn't eat, and would eat stuff.
I woke up around 7:44am and got ready. I left the old bandages, but changed the ones from the groin area because those were straight up foul, and not taped to me, like the ones under my arms. Dad got here literally right when we were going to leave and I got to the hospital around 9:47, when they were calling me to make sure I was on my way. I checked in and we hung out in the waiting room until about...10:15 then I left the fam. and headed for pre-op. I got an IV placed in my left hand, and changed into a gown. I was nervous, but tried not to be, I was also cold and said as much.
From the pre-op I was asked a variety of health related questions such as the likelyhood of my being pregant and the last time I had imbibed anything from food, to booze to cigarettes and the frequency. I answered truthfully, not reason not to. Well, aside from how much tylenol I took, that I lied about.
Dr. Reed came in during the second round of the questions and marked me up with a purple pen so they knew where they were going to cut and what not. That was interesting. Mildly awkward...thankfully only mildly. I saw Dorien and Dad one last time, Miguel didn't arrive until I was in my 24hour post op room. I got wheeled into the operation room. It was cold in there, they gave me some warm blankets and had me slide from the first bed to the operation bed. That was a skinny little bed. I laid on it and I think they ran something through IV I think. I remember them putting the mask over my face, the air in it was cold. I was out and I have been told that the surgery went fine. I feel fine two days later.
I remember waking up in the recovery room. It was cold there, and somehow between the surgical studio and the recovery room my IV fell out, so tehy had to try to give me another. I was fine with the first few attempts, but by the 5th attempt to give me an IV from torunaquette all the way to them stabbing me and failing I was getting annoyed and whiney and fidgity. I told them I was cold and after tehy warmed me up a bit they were able to get an Iv into me, in my left arm. And at one point they tried my foot. That one annoyed me. My friggin' foot. I got a few doses of morphine, that was sweet. No pain, and I wanted to sleep.
Terry, my man nurse, kept telling me to breath deeper, I have a penchant for shallow breathing apparently. He was also awesome and gave me some ice chips and apple juice after I was out of surgery for a few hours. He asked me how tolerable my pain was. At it's worst I was only at 6, and at the best in the recovery room I was at about 2. He also got me a bedpan. That was pretty embarassing and awkward, trying to use a bed pan. I was sure that I had peed in the bed and not in the bedpan, but I had to pee. I had to pee a lot.
I was moved form the recovery room to the post-op 24 hour stay around 5 or 6. I was in the room for a few minutes before Dad, Pattie and Dorien got there. I told them about the IV and how I was feeling. I made it to the bathroom again at some point, and I did have fun telling Dad to close his eyes or what not when the doctor's were looking at the bandages or when I went to the bathroom.
Oh, aside from Dr. Reed remember me and the fact that I fenced, my post op doctor I met back in September, Dr. Noorbakhsh also remembered me and my fencing. Weird, seriously. He was nice still, so my stay in thehospital was bearble. I slept terribly that night, and that it the conclusion of the story for now. My next post will tackle Friday and Saturday which will recant my being doped on pain killers and watching TV and trying to type and do things on the computer. Nothing too crazy, but I do want to remember this time, and this is on the internet for the fuck of it. It's not so personal that I need to save it to my HD, and if you think it is, fuck off and find something else to read.
Jasmine P.
October 5, 2008
Sitting, Waiting, Wishing
This reminds me of what I wrote up here last year, looking for love, finding one and not going ahead with anything. [[throwback]] But based off of certain circumstances, instances, rather, this might be more successful if anything is said. Maybe I should practice saying something, in my head as least. I kind of like skipping the whole confession part of everything and image being in a relationship.
Things of interest, he does seem to hyper-focus on me sometimes when we're together or with other people. In a weird way I do the exact opposite, avoid eye-contact and what not because then I start thinking stupid things or focusing too much until I'm too nervous to act normal.
Jack Johnson is the best and worst thing at the moment.
I don't want to be the one to start things, but I also don't want to be in this awkward limbo anymore. I'd love ANY little sign that this is requited love and not unrequited.
I need to write about something other than my lack there of of a relationship with this person. Fuck all! Heh, for as outgoing as I normally am I can't just take control of this. I need to stop protecting me and go out on a limb for once, it would do me a hell of a lot of good if I did. Is is so hard to want any little obvious sign. The most obvious I can notice is how often we hang out, but that doens't count for anything. Unless something happens, we'll fall into the friendship rut and nothig will change.ell, i damn near want Za to push me into him ro something retarded. That would be better than fuck near nothing. I know things aren't like movies, but sometimes I want the ease or confidance of getting into a relationship that people seem to always have in movies.
Hopefully I'll have something more substantial to write here soon. I'm tired of re-writingt he same things, but sadly these same things are on my mind all the time.
Jasmine P.
Things of interest, he does seem to hyper-focus on me sometimes when we're together or with other people. In a weird way I do the exact opposite, avoid eye-contact and what not because then I start thinking stupid things or focusing too much until I'm too nervous to act normal.
Jack Johnson is the best and worst thing at the moment.
I don't want to be the one to start things, but I also don't want to be in this awkward limbo anymore. I'd love ANY little sign that this is requited love and not unrequited.
I need to write about something other than my lack there of of a relationship with this person. Fuck all! Heh, for as outgoing as I normally am I can't just take control of this. I need to stop protecting me and go out on a limb for once, it would do me a hell of a lot of good if I did. Is is so hard to want any little obvious sign. The most obvious I can notice is how often we hang out, but that doens't count for anything. Unless something happens, we'll fall into the friendship rut and nothig will change.ell, i damn near want Za to push me into him ro something retarded. That would be better than fuck near nothing. I know things aren't like movies, but sometimes I want the ease or confidance of getting into a relationship that people seem to always have in movies.
Hopefully I'll have something more substantial to write here soon. I'm tired of re-writingt he same things, but sadly these same things are on my mind all the time.
Jasmine P.
September 14, 2008
Saturday
So, yesterday Za and I left campus so I could get my car inspected at this place that Glenn suggested and that's how we decided on an excuse for an adventure and lunch, then during lunch we decided to make this a monthly thing. But let's travel to yesterday morning.
She comes over and I make us breakfast because...I wanted bacon and I figured I could get rid of those last few eggs I had since they were really just going to sit there until I had another chance to cook them for someone else. Seriously. So we watch Psych then roll out onto Portsmouth and realize that the shop is closed on Saturdays. When backing out of the parking lot, I break my bumper by hitting a piece of scrap metal but it looks like the only thing that needs to be replaced is the bumper which makes things that much better, even thought they really aren't. So we're both a bit shaken up, Za more then myself, and we decide to explore down 64. We drive out to Pembroke Town Center then decide to more or less never go out there because it's too expensive to buy anything.
We're both hungry...again...and we're both jonesing for salad and decide to hit up the Unos on Military, so we get there and after driving through the parking lot a bit to actually get to the restaurant we have the best experience there, overall. Two dirty spoons were not enough to mar our day. We chat about our usual bull and wabout what had happened that day so far. But the experience at the restaurant has more or less made me forget about the bumper, thant and I think my escapist habits of not thinking about things that are bad so I can regain control of a situation and myself.
The experience is so nice because the restaurant is on the empty, it's between the lunch and dinner rush so it would be. I assume out waitress had just starter her shift so she's in moderately high spirits and we're polite, we've no reason not to be. But the thing is everyone's nice. A manager opens the door for us then when we're on our way out every employee tells us to have a good evening and another waiter holds the door open on our way out. We were floored, this was seriously my best experience at an Unos, and I've been to a few, though they were usually the same restaurant over and over again.
On the way back, still riding the good vibes we decide to go to the Naro rental and pick up Ghostbusters 1&2. On the way I start singing, partially to Za, mostly because it's fun. Driving down Hampton I'm making parodies of what we're listening to, and Za's amusement only encouraged me. One of them was to Junior Senior's Move Your Feet because I was in no mood to sit in traffic. So I was talking about wanting to speed, but it was silly, and she kept laughing so I made up one about Paula Deen killing everyone with butter.
Back in the apartment we watch Ghostbusters before CR calls inviting us over to watch The Sword in the Stone and Teeth. Teeth is fucking amazing, it's about this pure virginal girl who was born with vagina dentata, teeth in her vagina. But the problem is I'm in a goofy mood and none of us are taking anything seriously so we're making fun of this movie. The crabs were the best part. Mario Kart Wii is our next activity followed by my general makng fun of the staples of video games, then we're spicifically talking about Zelda.
Saturday started off slow, but ended up being awesome! And I'm making dinner tonight, so I need to get to the store and buy me some chicken soon...
Jasmine P.
She comes over and I make us breakfast because...I wanted bacon and I figured I could get rid of those last few eggs I had since they were really just going to sit there until I had another chance to cook them for someone else. Seriously. So we watch Psych then roll out onto Portsmouth and realize that the shop is closed on Saturdays. When backing out of the parking lot, I break my bumper by hitting a piece of scrap metal but it looks like the only thing that needs to be replaced is the bumper which makes things that much better, even thought they really aren't. So we're both a bit shaken up, Za more then myself, and we decide to explore down 64. We drive out to Pembroke Town Center then decide to more or less never go out there because it's too expensive to buy anything.
We're both hungry...again...and we're both jonesing for salad and decide to hit up the Unos on Military, so we get there and after driving through the parking lot a bit to actually get to the restaurant we have the best experience there, overall. Two dirty spoons were not enough to mar our day. We chat about our usual bull and wabout what had happened that day so far. But the experience at the restaurant has more or less made me forget about the bumper, thant and I think my escapist habits of not thinking about things that are bad so I can regain control of a situation and myself.
The experience is so nice because the restaurant is on the empty, it's between the lunch and dinner rush so it would be. I assume out waitress had just starter her shift so she's in moderately high spirits and we're polite, we've no reason not to be. But the thing is everyone's nice. A manager opens the door for us then when we're on our way out every employee tells us to have a good evening and another waiter holds the door open on our way out. We were floored, this was seriously my best experience at an Unos, and I've been to a few, though they were usually the same restaurant over and over again.
On the way back, still riding the good vibes we decide to go to the Naro rental and pick up Ghostbusters 1&2. On the way I start singing, partially to Za, mostly because it's fun. Driving down Hampton I'm making parodies of what we're listening to, and Za's amusement only encouraged me. One of them was to Junior Senior's Move Your Feet because I was in no mood to sit in traffic. So I was talking about wanting to speed, but it was silly, and she kept laughing so I made up one about Paula Deen killing everyone with butter.
Back in the apartment we watch Ghostbusters before CR calls inviting us over to watch The Sword in the Stone and Teeth. Teeth is fucking amazing, it's about this pure virginal girl who was born with vagina dentata, teeth in her vagina. But the problem is I'm in a goofy mood and none of us are taking anything seriously so we're making fun of this movie. The crabs were the best part. Mario Kart Wii is our next activity followed by my general makng fun of the staples of video games, then we're spicifically talking about Zelda.
Saturday started off slow, but ended up being awesome! And I'm making dinner tonight, so I need to get to the store and buy me some chicken soon...
Jasmine P.
July 3, 2008
Guides, Saints and Friends
July 3rd, 2008 -10.15 pm – 10.50pm
I just finished watching ‘A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints’ I’ll call it ‘Guide’. Spoilers
I have many things to say, so many thoughts running rampant through my head. No rhyme or reason. My response to the movie, to life at the moment, to where I am in what I’m doing with my life.
I haven’t cried when watching a movie since I saw ‘Finding Neverland’ last summer when I realized that the mother died. Before that, I don’t know. I cried today when Mike, Mik, died. I loved him. His accent, his personality, the fact that he was a clean, upright personality in the hello that Dito had to live with. Mik was something positive. Mike was something kind and new. Mik wanted to stop the violence and get Dito out. They had to get away rom the insanity before things got to deep, but before they could. Before they could get out of New York Mik was shot down. He died a senseless death. His death, the only good thing Dito had in his life was gone. Mik was a future, a positive future. That had to have been hard to write and harder to film.
Loss. Loss of what’s good in one’s life is quite devastating. I think about my loss. The magnum opus of loss in my short 19.5 years of life, 19.6, I don’t know, don’t care. Last year everything changed. I changed in an instant. I say I have no regrets. That used to be true. My one regret from everything I done is how I interacted with my mother. If I could go back, knowing what I know, I’d try to lie less. I’m a terrible liar anyway, I don’t know why people believe me. I mean, I can be brutally honest, tactfully honest unless I’m going to get hurt, then It’s everyman for himself and I lie terribly.
My regret is that she’s dead. She’ll never get to see me as an adult. She won’t be able to see me as what I’ll become. She only knew me as the fuck up I was, the fuck up I am. I keep saying I’m brilliant, but if I’m so smart, why don’t I pass my classes? If I’m so smart, why don’t I go after what I know will help everything. I regret that she won’t be able to see me in 15 years, she won’t be able to see my great ‘return’ afte I’ve made something of myself.
In Guide, Dito left
It’s cold. It’s the truth. He’s one of the few, one of the many who doesn’t know this. I don’t care. He doesn’t care about me, why should I care about him? I can’t change because he’ll never live up to even the most minimalistic expectations. All I want, all I want ot expect is to be truly cared about. That’s what I want. That’s something I’ll never have every again. Well, not for a while. I know my first boyfriend will care, but it’s won’t be the same. I want my mother. She’ll never see how strong I’ve become. She was the most important person in my life for 18.5 years and she still is. Her memory, everything. I miss her, I need to settle things. So much is buried. I need someone with the shovel to dig it out. I need someone to get in here with me and help me back out. Not a shrink, something more visceral, a true connection to fix everything.
On the flip side of my mom not seeing what I’ll become is that fact that everything changed last year. If she were still alive I’d be a very different person. I’d grow to be some sort of adult that wouldn’t be what I’ll turn into. I pray that what I end up as though, is something she’d be proud of. Be it a botanist, or be it a comic artist.
~~~
Today started out as a good day. I was up at 7.17, too used to working for going to the USBG, but that’s alright. I woke, read, fucked around on the internet. Whatever. Went to the store then hung out with Alex for a while. Good times, most of which were caught on tape.
I truly don’t know if there’s anyone I trust more on this earth. The most trustworthy, the best friend ever. More than a friend. I said this before, I wouldn’t be the same without him. I can’t think of not knowing him anymore. Ridiculous for someone I met only 2.5 years ago. First day of junior year, a blonde head sitting a few rows back in 11th grade English. Beauchmin’s class, then a blond head witting in the back of Warstler’s history class. That’s when it all really began, in History of the
I think about the people I know at school. The two most important, Glenn and Elizabeth. I regret my mom not knowing what I’ll end up as a result of my knowing these people. All my regrets are her not seeing what I’ll become in the future. I have plans, I have dreams and I have a path to follow and I don’t know where it leads, but I –
I think about the video Alex and I made today, mostly playing with the camera more than anything serious. Some great things were said, some great things happened. Things you have to be there for. I think about the future and looking back at out stupid actions. I think about the fact that a year ago I wouldn’t have done half of what I did in that video, half of what I do on a normal daily basis right now. Random touches, random hugs, relying on someone else. ‘My life revolves around Alex’ he said what amounted to that. Scarily enough, that has a shred of seriousness even if said in jest.
God grant me the strength to accept the things I can’t change. –RDJ ‘Broken’
I trust other people on the spot, but this is more than trust. A sort of reliance. But, there is the fact that nothing more is possible for the two of us. A sexual relationship wouldn’t solve anything, it wouldn’t’ break anything, but it wouldn’t solve anything.
A year ago I would not randomly hug people. A year ago I would not let my self get to close. I’m more vulnerable in some ways, more closed off in others. I have things that need to be taken care of, things that will be taken care of.
It’s been a while, I can’t quite remember everything that sparked this, but there is more. Somewhere.
Guide was interesting. It spoke volumes. Dramas always make me internalize, they make me look at what I’m doing. They make me question life and what I’ve done, what I will do.
There’s more to this, to be written some other time. I’ve lost it. It won’t be back for a while. Maybe I’ll be less morose then, or maybe I need to be morose for it to feel real.
June 6, 2008
Two Halves of Something Broken
Two Halves of a Whole.
Something broken, this is actually at a perspective, so the smaller piece is smaller on purpose. But there is a purpose to this.
My point is, I'm tired of my social situation changing so drastically every time it does. I'm tired of rebounding back and forth from being independent to being dependent on others. I can stand on my own, and I can lean on another's shoulder, but I'm tired of being forced to do one or the other over and over again. Every time I learn to live with myself I'm thrown into a situation where there are others who tolerate and accept me. I'm around people who don't ask anything other than me. They they let me trust them, until we're forced apart, then I'm alone and have forgotten how to deal with anything anymore.
There's nothing wrong with my desire for stability, so why don't I have any? Have I don't something to be punished to not be allowed to have any real consistent presence in my life that I trust and whom trusts me. This person doesn't even need to be a boyfriend, a significant other. They just need to be reliable. I need someone to be reliable when we're together and when we're apart.
Is it weird that when I'm alone I'm both incredibly solitary, not wanting to be anywhere near nor around others, but I'm also quite clingy, wanted to be near certain people? That's why I am the way I am when I can finally be not alone anymore. I'm like a man in the desert who'se come across and oasis. I lavish in the attention I can now get and give. I'm a selfish son of a bitch so my receiving and giving of attention in a weird way involve my sharing my new artwork with people. I like hearing from others that my work is good. That doesn't quite mean much because none of them draw. But that doesn't mean I don't not like hearing it. I love giving attention to others in my own obsessive way. I love giving attention in a physical manner, hugging, touching or in general being around some one else, others. That's how I give attention when I don't always listen properly. I focus, observe watch. That's how I give attention, that's how I give as much as and what I get.
My broken heart is cause by many people. Too many to list here, too many to list for myself. IT's quote sad though that Just about every one I know can be put on that list from one time or another. There is also a reason why I go off on my own when I'm upset. It forces me to think about the situation and it forces me to find a way to fix it. How can I fix something that I didn't break? Something that isn't tangible? Something that is left subject to others to socialize with? What happens is not under my own control, but it's under the control of those around me and it's taken so many 'hits' over the years that everything is an injury on top of a bleeding wound. Nothing is getting better and I don't know how much more I can take before it all collapses. I need something stronger and more consistent that my own strength. One day I'll just cave in on myself under my own weaknesses and I won't be strong enough to get out on my own. Maybe by that day My needed strength will be near and they'll be able to help me out when I won't want to help myself.
I can only pray for that day.
Jasmine P.
June 5, 2008
Island
Damn my hormones, but this is also a truth of sorts. At this moment I am weak. I can't help it, but I stay as strong as I can.
I am an island. I trust no one because they never keep their promises. I've been left on my own so often, I might as well not seek oit others. I might as well as stay on my own and live by my own strength.
That makes me wonder about why I try to rely on others. There is no one here for me but me. There is no one I can trust with anything so why bother? Why should I look to others for help when they don't help me. I shouldn't. I should keep to myself and not bother dealing with anyone else. Other people only forsake and anger me. They don't do as they say and they leave me depressed when I try to fight it.
Is there any reason to fight it, well, aside from the tears. Those are quite annoying. But other than that, is there any reason to not just internalize everything? Probably not. No one will be here forever and few are there when I need them. There's only me.
This needs to be said. Fuck all hormones to high heaven and low hell. I ought to feel better in about two days. I've been feeling so good too, aside from the caffeine and sugar cravings, I've been coping quite well and I've been well in general.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
I am an island. I trust no one because they never keep their promises. I've been left on my own so often, I might as well not seek oit others. I might as well as stay on my own and live by my own strength.
That makes me wonder about why I try to rely on others. There is no one here for me but me. There is no one I can trust with anything so why bother? Why should I look to others for help when they don't help me. I shouldn't. I should keep to myself and not bother dealing with anyone else. Other people only forsake and anger me. They don't do as they say and they leave me depressed when I try to fight it.
Is there any reason to fight it, well, aside from the tears. Those are quite annoying. But other than that, is there any reason to not just internalize everything? Probably not. No one will be here forever and few are there when I need them. There's only me.
This needs to be said. Fuck all hormones to high heaven and low hell. I ought to feel better in about two days. I've been feeling so good too, aside from the caffeine and sugar cravings, I've been coping quite well and I've been well in general.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
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