With the aid of my office's CD burner… I have burned about 8 copies of the Backstreet Boys New CD Unbreakable. The sad part is that 7 of those copies are for me. I don't want to scratch the original CD… So I created 7 copies of it WITH a label printed on the actual disc itself.
Now the first set of three, I did with just a picture and realized that it was a bit off, so I had to redo it. Plus when I inserted the disc into the drive, it didn't actually give the track names.
That's where the next four came into play. It's a bit more edited and refined as far as the label goes. I put the same picture on the CD's again, but now with the Unbreakable logo on it. Then I went through and edited the track titles so they would show up when you put the disc into a player.
And as I'm typing this up, I thought to myself, my god I could make personalized CD's with each individual backstreet boy's picture on a CD by itself. Yes, I went there… and now I'm twitching trying not to actually complete said task, because then I would have 12 CDs.. all of which I wouldn't want to give up….
And if you're wondering how my math is coming along and are thinking 3+4 does not = 8 it's because I have the "Test" CD with no label, just some sharpie writing on it. This CD was used to see if the machine would actually burn the tracks to the CD and too my surprise it did. – And I want that one too.
But one of the 8 (not my sharpie one and not one of the first) is going to my friend Kristin....If I can part with it.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Why You Shouldn't Make Friends With Stubborn People
There’s always something that starts a friendship and it can be something so simplistic as “I like your crayons… can I sit with you?” to “I will fucking KILL HIM!” while a short blonde poodle haired girl plops down next to you in the hallway in what would be your first week of high school. Glancing at the girl you think to yourself, she couldn’t hurt a fly if she wanted to. And then you see the burning rage in her Fern green eyes, and you rethink your original thought and suddenly are stricken with fear, or at least a small version of it.
Now its not the fear of death, where your life flashes before your eyes at all, but more of a Dear-god-is-that-notebook-going-to-accidently-fly-out-of-her-hand-and-come-within-cetimeteres-of-my-forehead type of fear.
These events started this bizarre friendship that would lead to an identity crisis, a secret bond through books and the beginning stages of the Jess-Jenn abridged dictionary.
She would understand when I was babbling incoherently through sobs and tears, and I would understand her when she would be on one of her Tyrants where “the thing with the guy” was to be interpreted as, “I couldn’t see my date lasting that long with the blonde guy from barns and noble because he was wearing the wrong shade of blue, I’m afraid.” – Where we both took pride in the mere thought that if anything either of us would be able to understand the place in which we were coming from, regardless of our status in life.
So when the friendship comes to a screeching halt because one party becomes offended by actions of the other, it’s often that same party that throws all sorts of offensive words that the other party until they are equally pissed off at the other. And so begins the wait out period…because now neither party is willing to truly admit fault, and actually say sorry and mean it first.
The picture that should be painted here is a stand off- old western style. Where each party stares wrathfully into the other’s piercing eyes, fingers twitching against the sides of their belt, ready to pull the trigger, but neither one willing to make the first move.
And so the days pass in this same stance – or maybe I’m just the one who feels more, and allows it to show, so these moments of anger seem to drag and make me more frustrated. But I can’t stop now; it’ll only show a sign of weakness, a willingness to cave.
Now its not the fear of death, where your life flashes before your eyes at all, but more of a Dear-god-is-that-notebook-going-to-accidently-fly-out-of-her-hand-and-come-within-cetimeteres-of-my-forehead type of fear.
These events started this bizarre friendship that would lead to an identity crisis, a secret bond through books and the beginning stages of the Jess-Jenn abridged dictionary.
She would understand when I was babbling incoherently through sobs and tears, and I would understand her when she would be on one of her Tyrants where “the thing with the guy” was to be interpreted as, “I couldn’t see my date lasting that long with the blonde guy from barns and noble because he was wearing the wrong shade of blue, I’m afraid.” – Where we both took pride in the mere thought that if anything either of us would be able to understand the place in which we were coming from, regardless of our status in life.
So when the friendship comes to a screeching halt because one party becomes offended by actions of the other, it’s often that same party that throws all sorts of offensive words that the other party until they are equally pissed off at the other. And so begins the wait out period…because now neither party is willing to truly admit fault, and actually say sorry and mean it first.
The picture that should be painted here is a stand off- old western style. Where each party stares wrathfully into the other’s piercing eyes, fingers twitching against the sides of their belt, ready to pull the trigger, but neither one willing to make the first move.
And so the days pass in this same stance – or maybe I’m just the one who feels more, and allows it to show, so these moments of anger seem to drag and make me more frustrated. But I can’t stop now; it’ll only show a sign of weakness, a willingness to cave.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Of Mice and Men....
So theres a guy that I used to work with, who I accidentally drunken texted last night. The conversation went as so:
Me: Hey, Whats up?
Dan: Nothing, lying in bed
Me: Lame.
---- End of Conversation ----
So this morning he texts me with the following:
Dan: Poke
Me: Hey
Dan: you never did text me after waking me up last night.
Me: Sorry, I had been drinking
Dan: We're friends right
Me: Uh, Why are you asking
Dan: I'm just saying we both know we are friends and it will never be anything more than that
Me: Um, I've ALWAYS said that
Dan: lol I'm just making sure that u don't don't take any of my comments toward you in the wrong way is all.
Me: I take them as they are Dan, you need to get laid, you solicit me for it, which I always decline. The End
Dan:haha fair enough, I wont leave them for you anymore since u don't understand where Im coming from. So if you think Im some sex starved idiot, why do you message me?
Me: I only talk to you when really bored... and apparantly drunk.
Him: Wow Some friend I am.
Me: Well Dan, it comes down to how you treat women, most things you say are of a sexual nature.. sometimes its mildly amusing.
Dan: Shrug
Me: Just know that I know 2 people you've tried your lines with, and remember your act only works if there is an audience
Dan:lol act like I'm some malicious predator
Me: Nah, just a guy what wants sexy from anyone and pretends theres something more to his intentions. Don't be such an immature ass.
Dan: Thanks
Me: Just trying to help you out, we all think you're nice, its your routine that sucks.
First of all, the guy is trying to make me out to be the one that solicits him. Like I would REALLY have that big of a problem getting sex if I REALLY felt like being that easy. I'm easy, but not that freaking easy. And he pulls the same shit on two other people I've worked with and I think its ridiculous. Because he messages ME about a bulletin I posted about how "I'm jealous that you had sex on the 24th, I wish it were with me" Which I DID NOT respond to because I just went "that's never gonna happen"
His routine is, play this really innocent "I'm lonely and horny" role with some girls, using the same lines and it just comes off pathetic.
Me: Hey, Whats up?
Dan: Nothing, lying in bed
Me: Lame.
---- End of Conversation ----
So this morning he texts me with the following:
Dan: Poke
Me: Hey
Dan: you never did text me after waking me up last night.
Me: Sorry, I had been drinking
Dan: We're friends right
Me: Uh, Why are you asking
Dan: I'm just saying we both know we are friends and it will never be anything more than that
Me: Um, I've ALWAYS said that
Dan: lol I'm just making sure that u don't don't take any of my comments toward you in the wrong way is all.
Me: I take them as they are Dan, you need to get laid, you solicit me for it, which I always decline. The End
Dan:haha fair enough, I wont leave them for you anymore since u don't understand where Im coming from. So if you think Im some sex starved idiot, why do you message me?
Me: I only talk to you when really bored... and apparantly drunk.
Him: Wow Some friend I am.
Me: Well Dan, it comes down to how you treat women, most things you say are of a sexual nature.. sometimes its mildly amusing.
Dan: Shrug
Me: Just know that I know 2 people you've tried your lines with, and remember your act only works if there is an audience
Dan:lol act like I'm some malicious predator
Me: Nah, just a guy what wants sexy from anyone and pretends theres something more to his intentions. Don't be such an immature ass.
Dan: Thanks
Me: Just trying to help you out, we all think you're nice, its your routine that sucks.
First of all, the guy is trying to make me out to be the one that solicits him. Like I would REALLY have that big of a problem getting sex if I REALLY felt like being that easy. I'm easy, but not that freaking easy. And he pulls the same shit on two other people I've worked with and I think its ridiculous. Because he messages ME about a bulletin I posted about how "I'm jealous that you had sex on the 24th, I wish it were with me" Which I DID NOT respond to because I just went "that's never gonna happen"
His routine is, play this really innocent "I'm lonely and horny" role with some girls, using the same lines and it just comes off pathetic.
Friday, October 26, 2007
All your twisted thoughts free flow.
I could type up this huge rant that I’m sure would be surveyed under a microscope to check for any error at all. Even the slightest misspelling and then later mocked for.
Or I could do what I’ve wanted to do all a long.
Forfeit.
This is why I so desperately need to escape. And while “running away from my problems” wont solve them; it sure as hell will get me out of the place that I’ve come to hate with every fiber of my being. And I’d say that’s a start.
If I could leave now and tell no one... I would.
Or I could do what I’ve wanted to do all a long.
Forfeit.
This is why I so desperately need to escape. And while “running away from my problems” wont solve them; it sure as hell will get me out of the place that I’ve come to hate with every fiber of my being. And I’d say that’s a start.
If I could leave now and tell no one... I would.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
I didn’t even last a week.
Last Friday I got incredibly “rebellious” and decided I wanted to re-pierce my lip. Because I really liked the way it looked when I did have it.
Saturday my best friend said I looked like a Degenerate, she said it jokingly, but I knew she meant it, coming from a You-must-wear-stilettos-and-a-pencil-skirt-if-you-work-here type job and background.
Strike One.
Monday morning, I came into work, the first thing my boss said to me was that I couldn’t have it, even thought my prior boss had told me I could, as long as I put a band aid over it. My current boss informed me that I couldn’t have it, and had to take it out as soon as it heeled. Anyone else aware that piercing can take some time to heal, but I informed her that I could probably get a clear retainer for it within a week or so. But I was determined to be the “degenerate” that I was, and I really wanted this piercing.
Strike two.
I applied for a second job at the movie theater and part of their “Wardrobe 101” is that no facial piercing may be visible while at work. A.K.A, you have to take them out if you have them. I thought to myself, all right, I can get the retainer and keep that in when at work. I interviewed, and things looked really good – I apparently have to wait to see if I’m “rehire able” which, based on my track record (even if I DID give two weeks notice) they probably won’t. Hard to convince someone you’ve changed after 4 years I guess. And being the degenerate that I am, I doubt I’ll get the job. Which means I still need to continue my quest to find a second part time job.
Strike Three.
Cue to this morning at 10:00 AM, I could not stand the constant pain below my lower lip. I didn’t have this much irritation the first time I did it, and was getting tired of the soreness, and with all the Strikes against having it, I finally gave up my fight to have the piercing and took it out.
I didn’t even last a week.
Saturday my best friend said I looked like a Degenerate, she said it jokingly, but I knew she meant it, coming from a You-must-wear-stilettos-and-a-pencil-skirt-if-you-work-here type job and background.
Strike One.
Monday morning, I came into work, the first thing my boss said to me was that I couldn’t have it, even thought my prior boss had told me I could, as long as I put a band aid over it. My current boss informed me that I couldn’t have it, and had to take it out as soon as it heeled. Anyone else aware that piercing can take some time to heal, but I informed her that I could probably get a clear retainer for it within a week or so. But I was determined to be the “degenerate” that I was, and I really wanted this piercing.
Strike two.
I applied for a second job at the movie theater and part of their “Wardrobe 101” is that no facial piercing may be visible while at work. A.K.A, you have to take them out if you have them. I thought to myself, all right, I can get the retainer and keep that in when at work. I interviewed, and things looked really good – I apparently have to wait to see if I’m “rehire able” which, based on my track record (even if I DID give two weeks notice) they probably won’t. Hard to convince someone you’ve changed after 4 years I guess. And being the degenerate that I am, I doubt I’ll get the job. Which means I still need to continue my quest to find a second part time job.
Strike Three.
Cue to this morning at 10:00 AM, I could not stand the constant pain below my lower lip. I didn’t have this much irritation the first time I did it, and was getting tired of the soreness, and with all the Strikes against having it, I finally gave up my fight to have the piercing and took it out.
I didn’t even last a week.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Inconspicuously Me
Its dark in here, I cannot see
A world slowly consuming me.
Breach the obscurities,
and finally come clean,
Only to find myself in between.
I lay here fallen and disenchanted
Breaking the silence
pressing me close to your warmth
I'm only a breath from aberration
Moments away from disgrace.
Falling in pieces,
I have no name.
- Jennifer Marie
Any thoughts or ideas to make it better?
A world slowly consuming me.
Breach the obscurities,
and finally come clean,
Only to find myself in between.
I lay here fallen and disenchanted
Breaking the silence
pressing me close to your warmth
I'm only a breath from aberration
Moments away from disgrace.
Falling in pieces,
I have no name.
- Jennifer Marie
Any thoughts or ideas to make it better?
Thursday, October 11, 2007
A cooking Lesson, From The Cooking Retard
So I confess my female innate senses are not really intact and I can't really cook much of anything if it doesn't come out of a box.
I like to gloat that I can make chicken Parmesan and even Chicken cordon bleu, but the truth is, the times I made those dishes, I had the assistance of my friend Laura on both accounts. So together, we can make some awesome Chicken Parmesan and Chicken Cordon Bleu by following recipes from one of her families many cook books.
So, you'll find it no surprise that when I get in the meat section of a grocery store, if it isn't prepackaged and precooked, I have no idea what to do.
Hell, I don't even know how to tell what is a "good cut of meat" I just kind of, look at it and play roulette with the meat department. I'd even go as far to say as my roommate and I stood in the market just a few days ago, we both looked like a man in the tampon section.
She says, "I don't know how to do cook this, do you?"
and then I would look back at her with a blank expression and reply "no idea, theres hot dogs on sale?"
And I am not one to really eat hot dogs, as we grew up on mac and cheese, hot dogs and Ramen, so any of those 3 food items, I tend to steer clear from...Unless I'm desperate for food.
Well, Michelle and I got some raw meat from the meat section and our first night we grilled steak strips, a bit dry, but still good.
So tonight I come home, bent on cooking some of the chicken that we purchased on our little grocery shopping excursion, and when I got that chicken thawed I had to get past the "Ew you want me to touch that with my bare hands?" Because I'm the girl thats wearing zip lock bags to touch any raw meat - And just my luck, we're out of bags. So there I am with a fork and a piece of tinfoil trying to get the fork into the raw meat into a frying pan while pinching it with a piece of tinfoil
My Goal: Chicken and Rice with mushroom soup.
I started off by throwing the chicken in a skillet and cooking it a bit along with butter and some seasonings (Garlic salt/Pepper) Meanwhile, Ive started cooking some plain white rice.
Once the meat looked to be mostly cooked, I emptied the contents of the mushroom soup can into the skillet - praying that this all worked. I let that simmer for a bit, flipping the chicken over with a pancake turner, and then when the rice was finally was decently tender, and almost clear of water, I mixed it in with my chicken and soup concoction and allowed it to simmer.
The Result: Freaking Great.
My only complaint: Brown the chicken a bit longer.
I've conquered the chicken this time....
I like to gloat that I can make chicken Parmesan and even Chicken cordon bleu, but the truth is, the times I made those dishes, I had the assistance of my friend Laura on both accounts. So together, we can make some awesome Chicken Parmesan and Chicken Cordon Bleu by following recipes from one of her families many cook books.
So, you'll find it no surprise that when I get in the meat section of a grocery store, if it isn't prepackaged and precooked, I have no idea what to do.
Hell, I don't even know how to tell what is a "good cut of meat" I just kind of, look at it and play roulette with the meat department. I'd even go as far to say as my roommate and I stood in the market just a few days ago, we both looked like a man in the tampon section.
She says, "I don't know how to do cook this, do you?"
and then I would look back at her with a blank expression and reply "no idea, theres hot dogs on sale?"
And I am not one to really eat hot dogs, as we grew up on mac and cheese, hot dogs and Ramen, so any of those 3 food items, I tend to steer clear from...Unless I'm desperate for food.
Well, Michelle and I got some raw meat from the meat section and our first night we grilled steak strips, a bit dry, but still good.
So tonight I come home, bent on cooking some of the chicken that we purchased on our little grocery shopping excursion, and when I got that chicken thawed I had to get past the "Ew you want me to touch that with my bare hands?" Because I'm the girl thats wearing zip lock bags to touch any raw meat - And just my luck, we're out of bags. So there I am with a fork and a piece of tinfoil trying to get the fork into the raw meat into a frying pan while pinching it with a piece of tinfoil
My Goal: Chicken and Rice with mushroom soup.
I started off by throwing the chicken in a skillet and cooking it a bit along with butter and some seasonings (Garlic salt/Pepper) Meanwhile, Ive started cooking some plain white rice.
Once the meat looked to be mostly cooked, I emptied the contents of the mushroom soup can into the skillet - praying that this all worked. I let that simmer for a bit, flipping the chicken over with a pancake turner, and then when the rice was finally was decently tender, and almost clear of water, I mixed it in with my chicken and soup concoction and allowed it to simmer.
The Result: Freaking Great.
My only complaint: Brown the chicken a bit longer.
I've conquered the chicken this time....
Monday, October 08, 2007
Advice To The Army Guy: Make less awkward advances.
Alright, so let me take a few moments to confess how lame I truly am.
I decided since my best friend was signing up for E-Harmony or some other online "meet a guy" technique, that I would take the free route, and I posted an Ad on Craigslist. It got a few responses, some of people I am still talking to, but haven't met yet, except one. We'll call him Lt. Dan.
Let me just say, I may not be the best thing since sliced bread, but you better believe I can dress myself in such a fashion that I might be able to convince you for even for a moment that I am.
Lt. Dan was one step above wearing velcro shoes and having his mom pack his lunch for him. Not only did I have to remind him that I am not a "touchy-Touchy" person but I also had to dodge about 6 different attempts at him kissing me.
At one point we were at a book store (a good key to my heart) and he asks me if I enjoy reading, which is probably one of my favorite things to do and I said, I enjoy it quite a bit and that I currently had four books open that I was currently reading simultaneously. He responds with "oh really? maybe we can read together sometime." - Which might be considered cute, but with my background, Not even a little. And I declined, explaining that reading was personal for me.
Let me just explain where I'm coming from when I say not even a little. To me, reading is a personal thing. Like, some people like to be alone for masturbation and not share it with someone, I like to be alone when I'm reading and not share it with people. I will share what I am reading, but I will not share those few precious moments where I can crawl inside of a books head and stay hidden from the world around me. And having knowing this guy and having to tell him six separate times that I don't really like to be touched, I figure he'd be the kind to constantly stroke my hair like you would a cat in your lap, and at one point during this awkward disaster in my life, he did.
I should also mention before the nightmare ended, he did in fact try to "read with me" and did in fact read a few paragraphs out loud. Which leads me to believe, he doesn't understand the concept of No.
He lacked a basic fashion sense, there were a lot of awkward pauses, a lot of uncomfortable silences, a lot of uncomfortable and unnecessary touching and several poor attempts to kiss me. Oh and the cheesy "you're the prettiest girl in the room" lines were driving me nuts.
And I'm the one who feels like a judgmental ass hole because He was a nice, but weird freaking guy. And based on all my lectures I have received, maybe I should feel so lucky that the Captain of the Retards has chosen me to be his Galactic Princess.
I'll have to decline the crown this time.
I decided since my best friend was signing up for E-Harmony or some other online "meet a guy" technique, that I would take the free route, and I posted an Ad on Craigslist. It got a few responses, some of people I am still talking to, but haven't met yet, except one. We'll call him Lt. Dan.
Let me just say, I may not be the best thing since sliced bread, but you better believe I can dress myself in such a fashion that I might be able to convince you for even for a moment that I am.
Lt. Dan was one step above wearing velcro shoes and having his mom pack his lunch for him. Not only did I have to remind him that I am not a "touchy-Touchy" person but I also had to dodge about 6 different attempts at him kissing me.
At one point we were at a book store (a good key to my heart) and he asks me if I enjoy reading, which is probably one of my favorite things to do and I said, I enjoy it quite a bit and that I currently had four books open that I was currently reading simultaneously. He responds with "oh really? maybe we can read together sometime." - Which might be considered cute, but with my background, Not even a little. And I declined, explaining that reading was personal for me.
Let me just explain where I'm coming from when I say not even a little. To me, reading is a personal thing. Like, some people like to be alone for masturbation and not share it with someone, I like to be alone when I'm reading and not share it with people. I will share what I am reading, but I will not share those few precious moments where I can crawl inside of a books head and stay hidden from the world around me. And having knowing this guy and having to tell him six separate times that I don't really like to be touched, I figure he'd be the kind to constantly stroke my hair like you would a cat in your lap, and at one point during this awkward disaster in my life, he did.
I should also mention before the nightmare ended, he did in fact try to "read with me" and did in fact read a few paragraphs out loud. Which leads me to believe, he doesn't understand the concept of No.
He lacked a basic fashion sense, there were a lot of awkward pauses, a lot of uncomfortable silences, a lot of uncomfortable and unnecessary touching and several poor attempts to kiss me. Oh and the cheesy "you're the prettiest girl in the room" lines were driving me nuts.
And I'm the one who feels like a judgmental ass hole because He was a nice, but weird freaking guy. And based on all my lectures I have received, maybe I should feel so lucky that the Captain of the Retards has chosen me to be his Galactic Princess.
I'll have to decline the crown this time.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Reflections in My Utopia
In the form of quotes
"Looking back on the things I’ve done, I was trying to be someone, I played the part, kept you in the dark, now let me show you the shape of my heart" – Shape of My Heart (BSB)
"I find myself scared to let people close to me, I’m afraid that they will see how truly broken I am, and not want to be near me. Not want anything to do with me." – Myself.
I still feel this way.
"I want to be a photographer. I want to be a writer. I want to live the life of a vagabond, going from place to place, I don’t ever want to settle in one spot because I want to see the world. I want to be a teacher, I want to be a mom, I want to be a wife. I want adopt a child. I want to dance in both the Atlantic and pacific oceans. I want to get lost in someone’s eyes. I want to save a life. I want to be someone’s world. I want to be a teacher. I want to learn how to sing. I want to learn how to write. I want to own a house on a lake with so much land you have to take a car or a horse or a quad to the other side. I want to write a novel. Be in a magazine. Write for a magazine. Graduate college. I want to be someone." – Myself (Friday, August 4th, 2006)
I still want most of these things.
"Backbeat the word was on the street That the fire in your heart is out I’m sure you’ve heard it all before But you never But you never had a doubt I don’t believe that anybody feels The way I do about you now" – Wonderwall (Oasis/HowieDay/RyanAdams)
Pretty much the same, different people fit this song. New people, Old People. Good people. – Not so much bad people. Or a person specifically.
"I was having a conversation with someone tonight about being social outcast, and avoiding human interaction. Basically about being a wallflower and refusing to let people in, or more so being afraid to let people in, which I often find myself, worried over. Thoughts of what people will think of me if they knew the core of me...and then It made me think about why I have a need/want to be with someone. To get married, to experience life that way... and then I thought of a quote from a movie I watched today. Shall We Dance? In the movie one of the character says...
"We need a witness to our lives. There’s a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you’re promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You’re saying ’Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness."
and I realized that this particular quote... hits me perfectly...Why I have to be around people, why I’m afraid to be alone... I need someone to witness my life...
- Myself
This would still be nice.
Looking back on old posts from over a year ago, I can’t help but feel I am better now. I still have problems and I still get down, but wow, not nearly as much as I used to. However, I feel like I’ve replaced the sadness with a bitter person. So I will have to work on that and maybe a year from now, I can be not bitter, but a genuinely happy person.
I’m still hopeful.
"Looking back on the things I’ve done, I was trying to be someone, I played the part, kept you in the dark, now let me show you the shape of my heart" – Shape of My Heart (BSB)
"I find myself scared to let people close to me, I’m afraid that they will see how truly broken I am, and not want to be near me. Not want anything to do with me." – Myself.
I still feel this way.
"I want to be a photographer. I want to be a writer. I want to live the life of a vagabond, going from place to place, I don’t ever want to settle in one spot because I want to see the world. I want to be a teacher, I want to be a mom, I want to be a wife. I want adopt a child. I want to dance in both the Atlantic and pacific oceans. I want to get lost in someone’s eyes. I want to save a life. I want to be someone’s world. I want to be a teacher. I want to learn how to sing. I want to learn how to write. I want to own a house on a lake with so much land you have to take a car or a horse or a quad to the other side. I want to write a novel. Be in a magazine. Write for a magazine. Graduate college. I want to be someone." – Myself (Friday, August 4th, 2006)
I still want most of these things.
"Backbeat the word was on the street That the fire in your heart is out I’m sure you’ve heard it all before But you never But you never had a doubt I don’t believe that anybody feels The way I do about you now" – Wonderwall (Oasis/HowieDay/RyanAdams)
Pretty much the same, different people fit this song. New people, Old People. Good people. – Not so much bad people. Or a person specifically.
"I was having a conversation with someone tonight about being social outcast, and avoiding human interaction. Basically about being a wallflower and refusing to let people in, or more so being afraid to let people in, which I often find myself, worried over. Thoughts of what people will think of me if they knew the core of me...and then It made me think about why I have a need/want to be with someone. To get married, to experience life that way... and then I thought of a quote from a movie I watched today. Shall We Dance? In the movie one of the character says...
"We need a witness to our lives. There’s a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you’re promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You’re saying ’Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness."
and I realized that this particular quote... hits me perfectly...Why I have to be around people, why I’m afraid to be alone... I need someone to witness my life...
- Myself
This would still be nice.
Looking back on old posts from over a year ago, I can’t help but feel I am better now. I still have problems and I still get down, but wow, not nearly as much as I used to. However, I feel like I’ve replaced the sadness with a bitter person. So I will have to work on that and maybe a year from now, I can be not bitter, but a genuinely happy person.
I’m still hopeful.
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