I've got some imperfections.

I am quite frustrated right now about a number of things.
I am going to be extremely busy next semester, and my Dad keeps pushing to find someone to date. Yes, okay, so what, I've had love before, and okay, that's great my sister is going to get married, but I don't have time for that. I don't want that right now; the stress of being tied down to someone when I barely have any time for them. It was different when I was at FLCC. I didn't have an internship, a job, and I wasn't in my senior year at a high-ranked college. Also, my Dad is going to find me and my friend a place to live for next semester apparently. I don't know why but I don't believe him. He's finally home after a month of not being home, and he's all "So I hear there's guys interested in you." I don't know why he even cares since he usaully hates all the guys I date. God, typing this is making me want to cry with tears of anger and frustration. It also doesn't help that, o shit, I'm the only single girl in my family. Wow, I just realized that. Yay for being a failure!
Of course I like people, but know that nothing will happen right now due to me being so busy. Here's an excerpt from a rant I wrote back in October::
"Why are you people so closed-minded? Why do my gay friends have to live in fear? Why do my transgender friends have to live in fear? Because it’s against what some people think is “right”, is “normal.” Why do they think that? Because our fucking COUNTRY is based upon Christian morals and ideas. We try so hard to separate church and state when it’s with us all the time. It haunts us everyday. When we hand the cashier a 10-dollar bill it says, “In God We Trust.” Trust in God? Why would I do that when I don’t even know if the fucker is real? Why do we females have to stay silent? Stay at home, do the fucking dishes, cook, and take care of kids? Why must we get married? Why do we have to have kids? Because if you don’t do these things you’re seen as a failure. Oh, and now, if you don’t have a degree higher then a bachelor’s you’re looked down on that too. So, okay, let me get this straight. We’re supposed to graduate from high school, go to college because it’s the right thing to do, get a 4-year degree in something, find a husband throughout all that, get married, have kids and get a career going in-between all that? Yeah, sounds like a fucking blast. It isn’t fun. College is stressful. I’m in my senior year right now, being 2*-years-old, and I have to admit, the only reason why I wanted to get married was because my parents got married young, and so did his. We thought it was the right thing to do."
It's just very frustrating when everyday I see and hear this shit as to how I should date someone. "At least someone!" NO. Fuck off and kindly die thank you. I'll do it when the time is right. Maybe my Dad thinks I'm going to be alone this his Mom was. HA no. Just give me some goddamn time to figure shit out. And by shit I mean not be so busy that I barely have time to sleep, okay?
On the a lighter note, it's Christmas Eve. I'm not all "bahumbug," I actually enjoy this time of year, minus working in retail, the whole holiday thing and the snow. It's mostly because our family gets together. I never see my family, and with my Mom and Dad moving out of state this is our last "End of the year" with them. Eh. that sounds stupid, I guess I'll just say "Holiday Season." Whatever. I doubt next year I'm going to have enough money to go anywhere. I barely have any right now. We'll see I guess.
Also, it gives me an excuse to get drunk around my family, since my family is getting drunk as well. Love it love it love it.
Well, I'm gonna get going, I've ranted enough for the day.
Happy Holidays, or whatever.

A 2am Post.

Eve nif it says a different time when I post this, it's 2am and I cannot sleep. I went to bed around 8-9-10pm with a headache and now I'm wide awake. It's more closer to 3am, but eh.
I'm back into therapy pretty much every week. It's okay, nothing special. What's helping me out is the fact that Mom and I have been getting along much better now. I just hope this keeps up.
What I do not appericate from her is the fact that she's still kicking me out, therefore I will have no where to live during spring semester. I've been trying to save up some money, but things like my car and food keep getting in the way. And now my medicine, which is insanely expensive is racking up a bill. These pills I take can cost up to 300 dollars!!! That's a fucking lot of money, okay? I don't have that just for one month of medication, so my psychatrist told me to get free samples once I get off my health care so I can still take my medicine cause... well damn.
I was at Buffalo Wild Wings tonight and they played Porcupine Tree. I cannot tell you how happy that made because I fucking love Porcupine Tree.
I have an internship next semester most likely, so we'll see what happens there as well.
I wish I had something to write about right now. I feel my head i starting to throb again, which means it wants to go back to bed. I wish I could post a writing or something, but they've been so personal lately that I really don't feel like sharing... for now at least.
And now to be completely random...
It's funny because I thought I knew this one person so well. Now, I feel like I don't even know who they are. I feel like it's my fault, when really it's theirs. They're the one who have changed into this. I miss them so much.

Boredom?

Now that the semester is pretty much to a close, I must admit that I have no clue what to do. I want to relax, but I don't want to watch t.v., I don't want to read, I don't want to watch any of my movies... I guess it just feels weird to actually not be stressed out.
I've got a few writings I'm editing right now, and a few more on my mind to start, but I don't know if I should write even tonight. I have work tomorrow at 9am, but I still want to be productive. This includes not going to bed until a few hours from now.
This is one way how I'm like my Dad is that I cannot not do anything. I have to be doing something all the time. I've been told by multiple people that I should go on a vacation. Personally, with that money I could finish my left arm tattoo.
I kind of don't know why I'm typing this entry up, since I have nothing really to say other than I'm bored for the first time in months. I don't know what to do with myself.

This is the most pointless entry yet. I'm going to go write.

Melancholy

My Dad just got home, and I already am hating the holiday season.
I know he was tired, but him and my mom are looking down on me going anywhere but Emerson college, since I'll be close to where they're moving and they want me to be close to them. I explained to them that they should be thankful that I'm not moving to the West coast, which is what I really want to do. I'm sick of the East Coast. I hate the weather- the cold and snow especially. Everyday last week I woke up and the first thing I said was "Fuck." Then I'd clean off my car and curse and curse...
Also, my Dad is acting different towards me now. I think it's because my mom and I got into a very physical fight yesturday, and if I wouldn't of stopped myself I would've beat the shit out of her. She needs to stop hitting me. I really am going to flip, but it's only on her... maybe it's because she does this too much. And she's the one who hits me first. Well damn, I hope yesturday taught her a lesson to not hit me anymore. Fuck her, I don't need her. She's already kicking me out of the house next semester before she puts the house up for sale. Where the fuck am I going to live? You told me I could live with until I got my degree. Yeah, love you too, you fucking cunt.
I think my parents are afarid of what my sister and I are going to become. I want all these degrees and all they think about are student loans. I think of the knowledge and the amount of jobs I can get if I get all these degrees, which is also how my sister thinks. I also feel that they are starting to feel inferior to me and my sister, since none of my parents went to college, and here are their girls, one wants to become a lawyer (and will become one), and the other wants to become a publisher.
I really want to write a memoir on my family. Have I mentioned that? I need to find time to start it. I was going to have my mom help out, but I think I won't anymore. I know she doesn't want me telling the world about how messed up our family is, but too bad. I'm going to do it. I think you get a taste of it in just my blog...
I love my job though. Black Friday is coming up and I'm psyched. I love the new shirts, the atmosphere, the people. It's gonna be a blast, minus the insane amount of people that are going to be in our store, but still I know we'll make it fun... somehow.
God, just bringing up the fight between me and my mom is making me upset. It seemed so unreal. I have never been so aggressive towards her like that. I feel kind of bad, but damn. She fucking hits hard, and the way she shoved my face... I really want to get out of here. I wonder if that's bad that I want to do that...
It's like, the two people who I get most compared to in my family is my deceased grandmother and my aunt. My aunt, who is still alive, has tattoos (like me) and I guess I act like she did when she was my age, besides being married. I mean, she got married when she was 20, got divorced, lived by herself for a while, married someone from her highschool, and had my cousin, who I absolutely love. Amanda is my second sister. My grandmother, named Irene, was a feminist. Even though I hate to call myself one, she would've been proud for me acting in the Vagina Monologues, fighting for female equality, and being strong and going to college. I'm passionate about what I believe in, and so was she. She never married my Dad's father, actually never got married in general, but she still kicked ass. My mom tells me she was stubborn, how I guess I am, and then mom bitches how I'm not open-minded, and then we fight and fight....
Fuck I really need to get out of here. I have so much homework to do, but I just can't do it right now. I need to get to bed. hate feeling this way. I just want things to be how they were before. I was happy, I didn't feel so angry like this. My mom even told me she deosn't expect me to get married. My sister is pretty much engaged, and my mom looooves that. She's eating it up. She did the same thing when my sister got pregnant with my nephew. It's like, my sister has this adorable son, and has a wonderful boyfriend, and I have nothing. All I have are my writings, which my parents don't like to read. I was published in my literary magazine last semester at school, and the poem I wrote was a tanka poem about self-mutilation and my parents were proud of me, but when they learned what it was about... not so much.
I don't get it why. One of the first things my dad asked me today when he got home was how I was doing without my medication. I was sort of ticked that he asked me that, probably trying to tell me that I should go see my psychatrist again cause he probably thinks I have anger issues. I DONT. I'm a non-violent person, just when your mom keeps hitting you, you'll eventually get sick and tired of it and fight back. Maybe I should go talk to Pam again, I don't know. She'll be pissed at me probably for not seeing her in so long (May to be exact), but I guess I should go see her. Fuck, I really hate having it boil down to that. I don't need medication, I just needs things to change. I need to get out of here.
While typing this, I have spilled tears and pulled my hair. I really hate feeling this way. I feel trapped, claustrophobic. I long for sleep, but it does not come easily. I hate waking, knowing the amount of work that seems to never go away no matter how much I get done. I want to get out. I am determined to, and I know I will, I just hope it's soon...

No title for this one, please.

End of the semester stress is starting to mount on me. I'm in the middle of reading a book for pleasure, and I hope to write a review for that when I'm finished. I find it hard to read anything for pleasure when after I'm done reading the assigned readings from my books for school I always end up falling asleep. This actually just happened, and I was awaken by my mother yelling at me. Little does she know I have a jug of Bacardi and Patron in my car, ready to be consumed for tonight and Saturday night activites. I'm quite pissed off she woke me up, but I guess now I can finish my homework, ignore my research projects until Friday night, and do my "I get shit-faced drunk, how do you handle stress?" impersenation.
I've been wanting to write, but have had no time or no drive to. It's not that I have the dreaded writer's block, it's just that I'm actually afarid to speak my mind now. (When the hell did this happen?)
But I will say this.
John Dewey believed that morals can be changed when they didn't serve a purpose to society. He believed in real consequences and effects. The real here, and now is something he also believed in. "As things change, knowledge arises." I hate it when people say "change is bad. I'm sick of hearing about change." You are closed-minded. This country NEEDS to change. It will change for the better (hopefully) but it's going to need your help. If you people can't look past the color of his skin and his middle name of our upcomnig president, when he was named after his Dad, then get the hell out of the country. We don't need you racist ignorant people who don't think a "black dude" should be in the white house. Maybe you don't want change because it brings knowledge, and knowledge is something you fear because it brings you furthur away from this apparent crackpot in the sky.
I was looking at the TIME magazine commemorative issue for Barack, and when they showed 4 states that were battle ground states (Montana, Missouri, Indiana, and North Carolina) all of the counties that had major cities in those states (excluding Jefferson City) were blue. A majority of the counties that were rural were red. A few counties that were red since 1996 in such states as Colorado, Ohio and Virginia have turned blue. People seem to want change, since this asshole who somehow got elected in 2000 and re-elected in 2004 has turned this country upside-down. 1.20.09 will be an awesome day that's for sure. And even though I'm sure I'll be in school and freezing cold I'll still have a smile on my face because the 43rd president has packed his bags and gotten the hell out of the white house.
I feel like my ranting has gone too long, and that I need to finish writing this paper for my postcolonialism class, so I can take a shower and leave my Mom for the night. I also just have gotten another tattoo idea, which I will probably get in a few weeks.

...and I'm feeling good...

November 4th, 2008, Election Day in the United States of America. I had my crutch under my arm, and my Obama shirt on as I went to the polls. As I walked out of the poll booth, I began limping away, as I hear someone behind me yell at me, “EXCUSE ME!” I turned around and looked at a man who I had to look down at. It was some old man, with gray hair peeking out from under his Confederate Flag hat, with a dirty black sweatshirt on and some jeans, just as dirty. He bellowed at me, “Isn’t that illegal?” I looked around, and the moderator who was right next to me looked around to. “Is what illegal?” She asked. “Her shirt!” The moderator looked at the man, still pointing at me, “They didn’t tell us anything about people not being able to wear candidates shirts—“ “It’s been all over the news!” The old man barked. I spoke up, “Look, sir, I can take the shirt off, I have another shirt underneath—“ “Isn’t that illegal?” He barked again. I looked at him, “Look, sir, I hope you know this but the South lost, so get over it. And you’re living in New York now, which was not even apart of the South.” I stormed out as fast as I could on my crutch, my Mother now close behind me. She asks, “What was that all about?” “Ah,” I say, “just some racist upset because his douche bags aren’t going to win in the election.” My Mother sighs, “You are such a rebel.” I have talked to other people from different poll stations that have said other people have worn McCain shirts, as well as Obama, but have not gotten in trouble for it.

But now, Obama has proven that, and everyone who doubted a black man could become president wrong. Obama won the popular vote, and also won the electoral vote with almost 200 more points then John McCain. As I was in the ER, I watched CNN non-stop until 1am. When the polls closed in California, Washington and Oregon, and they projected him the winner for presidency, I was speechless. I was dancing in my bed the best that I could. Everyone was coming in and talking to me, and watching the great news with my Mother, and me. Even the guy next to me was thrilled. As my Mother and I watched his winning speech, I could see her wiping her eyes with enjoyment. “Yes Mom,” I told her, “you just helped make history.”

When I heard that the Illinois Senator, Barack Obama, was running for president, I had no clue what to expect. “An African-American is running for President?” I asked, “This is going to be interesting.” I didn’t think that because I am racist, but because I know there is so much racism and hate still towards people of different skin color in our country. I began researching him, getting to know what he thought about certain issues, and by the time Iowa had come along, I was cheering him on. When I saw that he had won in Iowa, I was excited. I knew he was going to make it. Even when times looked grim, and the constant struggles with Hillary, he would not give up. He knew he needed to change our country, and would fight with every thing he had. When he won the Democratic nomination, I was thrilled, and became even more of a supporter.

When John McCain picked Sarah Palin as his choice for VP, I was honestly shocked and insulted that he decided to pick this unknown bimbo from Alaska, who had barely any political experience, got a bachelor’s degree in journalism in 6 years from 5 different colleges, etc, etc. When Hillary was in the race, there had been talks about the first female president, so McCain decided he would try and make the first female VP, but picked a horrible choice. We females are not stupid. Why would we vote for a candidate who is a female, like us, but did not believe in giving us freedom of choice- freedom to do whatever we want with our bodies? Why should I sell my uterus to the government? After that gimmick appeared, I fought long and hard for Obama, for fear of what would happen if the Republicans had their way with the United States again.

As I was waiting for my Mom to come get me from the ER, I sat in a wheelchair, watching CNN as President Bush was coughing up some words on how he was excited to have Obama become the 44th president. His words were not sincere. I didn’t buy it.

I voted and support Barack Obama because of the change I hope he brings to our country in need of it. The past 8 years have been nothing but downhill, and hopefully Obama can push it uphill again. As he said in his winning speech, “I’m going to need your help, America,” and he will need our help. This is why our country has been failing, is because Bush thought he could do it all by himself. The country needs to come together, to unite, and look past the differences between race, gender, sexual orientation, disability, origin, etc. We need to stop being so hateful, so racist and help each other out.

I am excited for January 20th, 2009. I have hope in my nation now. My country is going to be lead under a great man. The past 8 years have been nothing but secrets and lies to our country, and hopefully that will change. The economy, health care, the War, foreign dependency on natural resources… I hope those changes for the better. I have faith that Barack Obama can deliver what he promised the millions of American’s who are anxiously waiting his first day in office.

As Michelle McManus once sung, “It’s a new dawn. It’s a new day. It’s a new life… for me. And I’m feeling good.”

Sunday.

It's daylight savings today. Going to bed at 3am, when it felt like 4am was not bad. I got up around 9, and I acutally went to church with my parents.

It was my pastor's last day today, so i went because I have grown up with him. He's an extremely nice guy, and as I was saying goodbye, his wife also talked to me. I don't think I've ever talked to her alone before.

We all know how I feel about church, and religion in general, so as I was sitting there I was looking around at the children. Some of them were coloring, others were silent and following along, and others were just being plain out braty. I saw them sing along with the hymns, say the prayers which they have been told to say, and watched them as they left. It's been awhile since I've been to church, but I think that this trip is the last time I will ever set foot in a church.

These children are our future, sadly. I was looking through the bullention and I was reading one of the lessons from today. It's from Relevations and deals with how the Angels were crying because they were praising God. The last quote from the reading was, "And God will wipe away every tear that falls from their eyes." I leaned over to Mom and asked her why they were crying. She replied, "Because they went to a better place." "So, wouldn't they be happy? If they were tears of joy, why would God be wiping them away? Why are they tears of sorrow if they're in a better place?" She was silent. This shit makes no sense.

If I were to ever have a kid, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny would not be in our tradition. Why would I lie to my kids about imaginary things? I would not take them to church. My child would not have a religion. If they wanted to worship God though I would not stop them.

Things may change, but I doubt they will. As time has passed, I have come to the realization that I will probably never be engaged ever again, or give birth to any kids. I was telling my mother this and she snaps back, "so get a dog, or a cat." "Mom, I'm really allergic..." "Well, get a fish." "But they are boring." I know my Mom has a sense of my growing anger, which has grown frightenly high over the past few weeks, and she's probably afarid that I'm going to yell at her, or that we'll get into a fight. I told my Father about how she doubts my sister and I will get into grad school after our bachelors, and he told me, "she doesn't know what it's like in college." Damn straight she doesn't know. It just worries me that my own Mother doens't have faith in her daughters. Fuck that.

I also have been told that I have an attitude problem, which made me laugh. I'm sorry I call people out when they're being douchebags and I tell the truth. Maybe that's why no one wants to date me, because I speak my mind and girls aren't supposed to do that. All guys ever want from me is a lay.

Oh yeah, I find this amusing. My Mother during church started to cry, so I leaned over and hugged her. She didn't hug back but I thought she might enjoy the comfort. Over the past week, I have acquired a knee injury and as I was hopping over to sit down at the kitchen table, and in the process I hit my knee on the table extremely hard. She just stood there and looked at me as I was trying to not cry out in pain. "Attitude Check: Fuck You."

I cannot wait to see what happens on Tuesday. I have two seperate plans for whoever wins. I'm not going to jinx anything, or spoil anything, but I'm am anxiously looking forward to see if America is really as retarded as I think it is. Don't make me do what I have planned for one of them.

I have ignored my homework all weekend, so I think it's time to start paying attention to it. I have no clue even what any of it is, but I think being on pain medication will make it much more amusing.

I love having these moments.

Yesturday, after my Philosophy of Education class, I had an "aha!" moment. We are starting to touch on female philosophers, which is what I have been meaning to get into, but have been so busy I have not had the chance, until now.

I have been known to be a liberatarian when it comes to political views, libertarian with a left wing twist. We were talking about Mary Wollstonecraft, who was a libertarian herself. I went up to my teacher and started asking her questions about Mary. She smiled and said I should look into Emma Goldman, who we are going to talk about next week. So, after the class ended, I scooted to the library where I checked out one of her books.

I think I have found my new favorite philosopher. Nietzsche and Russell are my two main favorites, but Goldman... holy shit. She did stuff that I have always wanted to do. Which is when I had my "aha" moment. A female anarchist atheist who didn't call herself a feminist but fought very passionalty for female rights. BINGO.

I wrote a 4 page rant a few weeks back on how much Christanity is complete bullshit, and how females should not take societys shit anymore. I'm still editing it, but after I feel confident enough to publish it, I hope to throw it out there. It angers me so much that the gimmick that McCain has chosen to be his Vice President is a female... but is not for female rights. Please, do not insult my intelligence. Sarah is NO Hillary. I would rather have Hillary then Sarah. Hillary actually fights for female rights, not aganist them. I just don't get it why females aren't for protecting their rights. It boggles my mind.

I was up until 330am conversing a few texts with my ex-fiance who decided to text me last night. It got me thinking to when I started getting this way with everything. I know when I was a teenager it started, but it was mostly teenage angst. It was after I was constantly screwed over by men that I started to group my thoughts, and started fighting for a cause. I have a reason to rant, to fight. I am constantly looking for the truth. Religion is not truth. The government is a lie. Don't live for anyone else, but yourself.

I refuse to be silent anymore. As the days go by, more and more do I feel the need to freakin yell at the top of my lungs about how fucking retarded our country, our world is being. I want to help change it. I want to try and open eyes to see what is happening. It's like Platos Cave. I have been set free from the cave, seen the truth, and want to tell the fuckers still mesmorized by the shadows on the wall to turn around, come with me, see the truth. Stop living in a fantasy world and start living in reality. Wake up, take a chance, break free.

"Someone has said that it requires less mental effort to condemn than to think."
THINK: It's Not Illegeal Yet.

Is it okay if I bitch about my mother?

'Cause I'm gonna do it anyways. Okay, a little advice to you, if you see your son or daughter struggling with something they've never done before, don't bark at them, "Don't you know anything?!" Instead, how about you offer to help them? "Oh, wait hun, let me help you with that."

I mean come on! I was doing laundry at my house and I have one of these really adorable sweaterdress' that are in style now. I wore it out a few weeks ago, and I finally have enough things to make a "hand-wash" only load to wash it with, since I don't have a lot of delicate fabrics. So I take it out of the washing machine and it's still soaking wet. I go over to try and put it on a towel to absorb some of the excess water and I get water on the floor. Mother looks over at me and yells at me, "Don't you know anything?!" And, of course me being the bitch I am, start yelling at her to shut the hell up and how I know plenty of things. I was about to tell her to grow up and go get a goddamn college degree, when I decided to try and be nice and ask her, "Hey, look. How about instead of barking at me, and telling me something that we both know is false to try and help me?" So she helps me with the towel, and lays it out on the rack to dry. Mind you, in silence.

Really Mom? Did I have to just tell you to do that? She also told me that, "Wow, you have got quite a mouth on you!" NO SHIT. I live alone with you and you're such a goddamn bitch now a day I have to have a mouth to fight back to your constant attacks. For example: politics. The last presidental debate, dinosaur McCain was speaking and I started mimicking him and, get this, she tells me to have an open mind.

Wait, hold the fucking phone, are you serious? You just told WHITNEY KATHERINE to have an open mind? Are you fucking serious? So, I bark back, "Are you serious, Mom? You just told your own daughter, who you know is more open minded then you, to have an open mind? Have you done any research on this campaign? Have you read what they are saying? Do you even know what these people stand for?" She was silent. I walked away.

Then there's Sarah Palin. Holy Jesus fucking Christ. I told my mother when Sarah was on the news how I didn't like her, and how I thought she was stupid. My mother barked at me, "She's not stupid! She's smart!" I almost died right then and there. "Have you seen her resume? Have you heard her speak? Have you read what she is saying?" She was silent, again. And I walked away.

GAH, someone shoot me now. My Dad is home though, and I tell him all this and he smirks because he knows I'm right. I really wish I could move in with my Dad, but he lives in New Hampshire and soon my Mom will be joining him, so it's kind of useless.

I feel like my "mouth" is a result of all the shit I took from her when I was a teenager. I'm sick and tired of dealing with her crap, so instead of taking the blow, I send a blow back, which usaully causes her to fall down instead of me.

Oh, yeah, she's doing fine from her surgery. The constant attacks on me have become daily, if it isn't obvious. I don't think she likes it how she doesn't have any control over me anymore. Hun, I'm 21, there's nothing you can do. You can't ground me, so good luck trying.

I really can't wait to move out. I'm sorry I didn't get married when i was 19. I'm almost done getting my bachelor's and then I'll be getting my masters, and possibly a PhD. I'm sorry I have more fun then you do when you were my age. I'm sorry you don't even have an associates when I keep telling you to use your experience from the library to use it towards getting some sort of degree in library science. Stop bitching how you want me to be a librarian because you can't be one. Yes, you can. Just get your ass back to school. It doesn't matter if you're 59. I have friend's whose parents are starting their masters and they're in their 50's as well. Stop being embarassed and just go for it. Be strong for gods sake. I hate seeing weak willed people, but that's a whole different story.

Kay, after a quick dinner break, I have admitted to my parents how I have been researching womens literature intensly (mind you, I'm taking a course in womens writing), and how I have become interested in the civil rights movement. My Mother went into the other room when I started talking about Malcolm X, and yelled back, "He was radical!" "Is that why you don't like him, Mother?" "Yeah." Oh okay, so someone fights for what they believe in and speaks their mind so you don't like them. Good job being open-minded, you son of a bitch. But anyways, my Dad sat with me and listened to me and said his point of view, which was he was really glad that I was starting to get into these things. He knows that when I believe in something, I research it and am passionate about it. I search for answers, I am engrossed in truth. I'm not an idiot, okay? My Father knows that and still refers to me to his mother when I get like this. Another thing is that when I start talking about grad school my Mom doesn't pay attention, but yet my Dad does. I just find that funny.

Oh yeah, my Dad was trying to explain baseball to me before dinner. The Rays and Red Sox are going at it to see who plays Philly in the world series. I mean, if I live in Boston I hafta be a fan of the Red Sox. My sister is a huge Yankees fan so this should be fun :) I mean, I'm a huge hockey fan, have been this way since I was in 8th grade, and my team has been the Red Wings for as long as I can remember. Yzerman is going to be coaching the 2010 Olympics, fyi. Soo glad I got his jersey before he retired...

To finish this off, since I have to go get ready to go out, I would like to say that according to dictionary.com, the Spanish word of the day is direccion, which means direction; address. I don't know why, but I find it amusing that they have a spanish word of the day.

One step at a time.

My mother had surgery today. She's almost 60, so I was a little anxious about her going to get her procedure done. She woke me up at 530 this morning telling me that my father, who is home until Sunday, and her were leaving. She seemed in good spirits, and since it was almost 6am I didn't really think much of it until I heard the car pull out of the drive way.

I remember thinking all of these horrible thoughts, because that's who I am, always looking on the dark side of things, and I actually started crying. I cried myself back to sleep and woke up at 840, and I had class at 905. Of course I was late to class because I had slept through my alarm, but my professor is nice and understanding, and he patted my back and smiled at me.

Yes, she's fine. When my father called me around 1 this afternoon he sounded tired, but the surgery went picture perfect and she was in recovery. I went back to my lunch table, and I wanted to cry with joy. I know I wrote an entry about my father, but my mother, well, she's my mom...

Anyways, my father told me that he would call me when she got settled into her room, which was at the start of my 4pm philosophy class. I told my teacher I was expecting a call and how my mother had had surgery and she gave me the okay to walk out of the room when the call came in. I fucking love how understanding my professors are. So my father said she was recovering well, and my eyes began to swell up again after I hung up. I walked back into class, sat down smiling, and Christine looked over at me and gave me smile back because she knew.

At dinner, I called my sister, who picked me up from my school and myself, her, and her two-year-old all went to visit my mother. When I saw my mother I almost started to cry. I don't think I've ever been so happy before to see my mother, I gotta be honest about that. So I told her about my day and how awesome school is going this semester (which I will touch on later) and she kept smiling at me.

When I went back to school, I called Kim where she let me into her dorm where I laid on her bed while she read at her desk. I had my iPod pulled into my ears, and I started to cry silently. I don't think I've said this, but these past few weeks have been one hell of an emotional rollercoaster ride. I started dosing off, until Kim and I went to go take part of the movie English club was putting on that night. I didn't stay long, because I had one hell of a day and I really needed to relax. But tonight, on the ride home while I was speeding past cars on the expressway, I was listening to the radio and I felt relieved.

I know things aren't as great as they could be, but goddammit I can practically smell the Boston air in my nostrils. School is going amazing so far this semester. I'm becoming a very active member of the English club, cause, well, it's my major and it's about damn time I joined a club! I also am looking forward to doing the Vagina Monologues again at my school. I bought the 2008 edition of the book to get a feel of the monologues, even though I was in them last year. I was the sad side of the monologue "My Vagina Was My Village" which was amazing. All of the girls were amazing and I look forward to working with the ones that do it again. I've already got two monologues picked out I'd like to possibly perform, but it's a secret and I have no clue if I'll get one of them haha.

I say the Boston air because I think I have a top pick for graduate school. Emerson College looks very promising. Since we know I'm an English major, I know exactly what I want to do with my degree. I want to go into Publishing and Writing. Of course I like to write, I mean holy crap I write better then I talk most of the time, and I remember when I was transferring from my community college to a 4-year everyone kept asking me, "What the hell are you going to do with an English degree with a concentration in writing?" Well, there's your answer. Betch.

I look back at all the professors that have told me how my writings are different, and have praised my writings, and have encouraged me to get into writing because I have talent in that area. Not just writing, but in editing. C'mon, I'm a grammar nerd. When someone sends me an email and there are no periods, semi-colons, or commas in it at all, I don't even read it. You seriously just sent a senior English major that piece of shit? Okay, send it back to me when you learn how to type properly.

I know I could never be a teacher, or a professor. I was looking over Kim's shoulder tonight, and looking all the stuff she has to learn about different exercises and methods and this and that... ugh. I also have my father's patience level, which is very... miniscule.

OH! This brings me to another reason why my professors are awesome.

A professor I had last semester for creative writing is an amazing lady. She's a published author, but a majority of the professors at my college are published (which drives me furthur to get published in more literary magazines). I was helping out with English club last night. A group of British actors from Cambridge, UK called CAST came to our college during their tour to perform Henry V. While we were setting up, this professor approached me and started asking about my grandfather, who was not doing well at the end of last semester. I ended up missing a few of her classes to be by his side and to help my grandmother out. I told her that he was doing better, but he is wheelchair ridden now. I also told her about my sister's car accident over the summer where she totaled her car with my nephew in the car. I told her how I saw her get unloaded from the ambulance (which hit me really hard) and how I stayed with her, drove her home, helped her out until she was okay on her own. I called off work for her too, I remember that. And then I told my professor how my mother was getting surgery today, and how I was nervous and this and that. She looked at me, and started telling me how I was one of the most caring people she knows. "It's a very good quality to posess, and you have it." I didn' t know what to say, so I bowed my head and thanked her. She went on though, briefly, and I explained to her how, at first, I wanted to become a nurse, since I like helping people. She smiled and said, "you went from a nursing major to an English major?" We laughed, and I replied that, "I found my nitch." I had no clue that something I found to be therapeutic would acutally get me somewhere in life... hopefully...

I mean, I love physiology. Anatomy is what got me. Memorizing all those bones, yea, not gonna happen. In my prime, I could describe how the respiratory system works flawlessy. I could also, in my prime, tap dance like a freakin Rockett. Ah, the good ol' days.

Now I'm an English nerd, who actually is enjoying reading Robinson Crusoe for one of my classes and is reading Pride and Prejudice for another. It's like 19th century chick lit and I'm a sucker for chick lit.

Oh, and get this, my minor is philosophy. Yeah, I have no clue what I'm going to do with that either. Just thought I'd throw that out there.

I titled this entry "One Step At a Time" because, yes, of that dumb Jordin Sparks song that gets stuck in my head every time I hear it, but mostly because I agree. It all takes one step at a time. No, I'm not posting lyrics. Sorry. I'm too tired to post them.

Speaking of tired, I think I'm going to retire for the night. I think this entry is long enough, and it makes up for me not writing in a while. I'm a busy girl with school, work, babysitting, and trying to enjoy my college years before I hit the real world.

Ciao!

Daddy's girl.

My father is coming home today. I'm extremely excited about this because I have not seen him in 3 weeks.

No, my parents are not divorced. My father lost his job around christmas time last year, and the only job he could find was in New Hampshire. So he moved there around June. Since my sister lives on her own with her child, my mother and I are to fend for ourselves in the house that I grew up in. I hafta admit, it's been hard because my mother and I have never seen eye to eye on certain things, but over these past months she's been more understanding then she ever has been towards me. Her only beef with me is that she doesn't like it when I don't come home at night because she doesn't like to be alone in the house by herself, so I usaully try to be home at a reasonable time.

Whenever she gets too overwhelming for me, I'll call my father up and he'll calm me down and give me some suggestions as to what to do. Like one thing is that my mother thinks she can do everything around the house by herself. I'll offer to help, but she'll shoo me away and it gets very frustrating when I see her overwhelmed with the amount of work she has to do and she won't let me help.

We're going to get the upstairs bathroom re-done soon, so my mother can sell the house in the spring and move in with my father. Everyone looks at me and asks, "where are you going to live?" Well, the answer is that I'll get an apartment for the last semester of my undergraduate studies. I'm planning on moving out of state when I graduate since there is pretty much nothing left for me around here. Of course I'll miss my family and friends, but I'm so sick and tired of living around here. I've lived here my whole life, and my job, if I still have it, gives me the opportunity to just about move anywhere there's a store.

Back to my father, the whole reason why I started writing this entry, is the fact that where my mother leaves off he takes over. When I was learning how to drive, my mother would freak out every time I would go too fast, or make a turn a little too sharp, but my father, when he would take me out, would just comment on it.

My father is probably my favorite person in my life. He supports me in everything I do. He actually will sit down and talk to me about my future, and the possible schools I want to get into. He'll talk to me and actually want to know how I'm going to get the goals that I have set. My mother, I know for a fact, pretty much laughs at me at points. My father will make sure that I know that "I'm very proud of you," because I think he knows more than I know that I'm going to mount to something.

Here's a funny story. It was around 1:30 in the morning, and I was just coming back from a bar and going over to Bryan's house. I was starting to feel the drinks I had that night, and as Bryan and I start talking in my car, my cell phone starts vibrating. I look at the screen, and it says "Home" is calling me. So I answer it, and it's my father. He begins yelling at me and wondering why I'm not home yet. I tell him, "because I told you I'd be home around 2." He starts going off on me because he's afarid that I'll make mother worry and some shit like that. I mean, I hafta give him credit, he was leaving a few days from that night, so I start crying because, well, I'm tipsy as all hell, and he goes on for about 15 minutes. Bryan, who is sitting patiently sitting next to me, is dying to hold me and comfort me, but can't because of the arm rest in the way. After my dad is done yelling at me, I say to him, "ya know, all the yelling you just did to me... I could be home by now."

The next day, I'm up and about, and my father has to go to the store for some last minute items. So he asks if I would like to come with him. I agree, and grab my purse and he hands me the keys. Now, mind you, my father just bought a new Audi A4. His way of making up his last night tantrum is by letting me drive his Audi to the store. Pure awesome.

Now that I'm done being sidetracked, he knows I'm going to mount to something because of how strong I am. I'm not looking to get married, or looking to have a child anytime soon, I'm looking to let myself grow, and maybe along the way if I find someone like that again then I'll actually think about it. After you're engaged once, you look at things a little differently. Or, at least, I do.

Every girl needs her father, and I just so happen to be one of those girls.

Look at what we have here.

Hey, what can I say, I finally have one of these.

Basically, I'm a writer who has a lot to say. I'm sick and tired of having all of these writings loaded up onto my computer and not having the guts to actually share them with anybody. Every time I do share them though people enjoy them. Even if their dark, or on the lighter side, people think their good.

I hope to someday become published into some bigger named magazines. I have already been published in my school's literary magazine.

I'm currently an English major, and am hoping to get into grad school to concentrate more intensively on the writing, composition, and rhetoric of English. I'd like to go into publishing or editing. As much as I would love to write as a full time career... well, let's see how things go.

I named this "the rantings of a 20something year old bitch" because it's pretty much true. My rantings and writings may seem to be a bit bitchy at times. It's not by choice that I'm bitchy though.

I feel oddly content with this. A smile has crept across my face, along with the constant sniffling that I seem to be doing. Gotta love hay fever.

I feel like I should say more, but won't. Porcupine Tree's "Synesthesia" is putting me in a mood of slumber.

Yeah... I'll write more later.