Lists.

Things that make me happy:
1.) Rachel's hair, and her clear superiority to most humans, except Bob Dylan.
2.) Organic Mac and Cheese
3.) Teenage boys that make disonaur noises at my friends as a term of endearment.
4.) Driving to school with Garrett.
5.) The Indigo Girls.
6.) Having multi-colored hair.
7.) Noah.
8.) Popcorn.
9.) Bikinis.
10.) Unintelligible Mono-syllabic Semi-Grunting.


Things that piss me off:
1.) Sticky forks.
2.) Emotions.
3.) Teenagers.
4.) Lack of cheese.
5.) My inability to whistle.
6.) Shortbread that isn't as Scottish as it should be.
7.) My allergy to butternuts.
8.) My stepmom.
9.) My father when he hasn't been drinking.
10.) When grooveshark freezes.


My favorite colors in order:
1.) Purple.
2.) Brown.
3.) Black.
4.) Bob Dylan.
5.) Red.


Barbara Streisand~Audrey Hepburn~Rachel Von Husen~Bob Dylan~John Lennon~Tom Delonge~The Indigo Girls~Regina Spektor~Kate Nash~The Pixies~The Cure.



Pulmcots.

Duckface, Deleting Friends, and Dr. Pepper.

I very highly enjoy men's trouser's. I have no reason to believe I'll ever need to wear any other pants again. So, if you don't agree with me on the fact that tight tee-shirts and ridiculously sized men formal wear is a good look for me, prepare to be gravely disappointed. I wish my life was directed by John Hughes. I wish Molly Ringwald was my bestfriend. I also wish I had black round glasses like Duckie, and Ozzie have, because right now I only have red ones like Lennon. I love fat babies. They're just so adorable. I love eccentric people; people that don't fit in those stereotypical boundaries of what is right and wrong, and yet are some of the kindest, purest, most positive people you'll ever know. They might smell like cigarettes, they might never open their windows, they might have secrets, and scars, and they might watch too much inappropriate television, but when comes down to it you know that they will be there. The majority of the people in my life whom I trust explicitly, and whom I consider my aunts and uncles, and brothers and sisters, are like that. I'm comfortable with that. With slight chaos. Normality confuses me.

Yet another promise.

You sort of forget how invested you are in people. I forget sometimes, because I rarely truly let anyone in. So, when I do, It really means something. It means that I think you are an important enough part of my life that it makes sense for me to depend on your being there. It means that I have faith that, although our relationship may change, it will always be there. It means that I have faith that you will lift me up when I fall, and make me laugh when I'm crying. I very rarely do that.

There have been many times when people have betrayed that faith, and trust. There have been times, when the person I trusted the most kicked me while I was already down. But, I'm willing to still try to push past my inability to trust in people; to trust the few people have earned it. It's a crazy feeling, coming to the realization that half of the people in your life don't really contribute to it at all, except for negatively. It's a crazy feeling, coming to the realization that I do actually need people; that I can't do it on my own.

I guess what I mean is that, it's a moment like nothing else when you begin to realize, deep in your heart of hearts that you love a person. It's a really humbling experience to realize how desperately you want, and need them to love you back; To not be able to imagine your life in a world where they weren't there; To not like the idea of where you'd be if they hadn't come along. There are only a handful of people in my life, that I truly feel that way towards. I hope you know who you are.

I love you.
Promise.

100th Post.

 I thought when I got to my 100th post on this blog, that I would have some great feeling of accomplishment or satisfaction. I thought I might be able to look back on all the progress my life had made, or how witty and sophisticated I had become. Nope. This is just like every other blog post. I'm still stupid litttle me. I'm still angry most of the time. I'm still confused, and sad, and excited. Most of all, I haven't really changed. I have different friends. Different loves. Different priorities. However, I as a person haven't really changed.
So, Here I am. 100th post, and all I'm going to do is what I always do... talk.

I went to the district convention this past weekend. It was truly torturous on a level it has never been. I was sick to my stomach for a lot of it, because I was so... anxious. It's funny. Just when you think that they can't touch you, and you feel no guilt, no fear, That's when it hits you like a punch in the stomach. All those guilt trips. The dissapointed eyes of those who know, and the loving eyes of those who don't, filled with false pride. I wanted to run up to the microphone and start screaming. I wanted to tell everyone that I light up christmas trees, that I watch r-rated movies, that I swear, that I have a boyfriend, that I live like a normal girl. I wanted every single person to know that I was to be seen as disgusting in their eyes, or at best, a lost cause. I can handle the disappointment, and the anger of people who know I'm not religious. I can not handle the love, and acceptance of those who don't. It sucks me back in. It makes me feel so guilty, and sick, and afraid. It takes a huge amount of humility for me to admit that their tactics work on me, but they do. I wanted to sit on my mother's lap the way I did when I was nine years old, and just realizing the true meaning of the life I was being conditioned to live. I wanted to bury my face in the shoulder of her shirt, and breathe in her sweet perfume, and cry. Cry long and hard. Let out all the fears, and worries, and guilt, and pain. But I didn't have that, I only had my dad's crisp white dress shirt to lie against. So, I laid my head against his shoulder like a little girl, and pretended he understood, while I fell in and out of sleep.

I want to be the kind of girl who can cry. I want to let all of this go. To let it out the way I used to, when it all got to be too much. Back when I cried every week, until my head hurt and I was gasping. Back when I dealt with things. I'm not going to though. I'm going to sit here and suck it up. I'm going to tell everyone that I'm fine. I'm going to get pissed off, when really I just want to cry. Then, in six months, something will happen and it will all burst forth with out permission. I'll be sobbing and screaming and I'll look insane, but after an hour I'll be the same indifferent rock I was before.

ENOUGH OF THIS NONSENSE.

1.) Well, I love you. You know that. At least I hope so. I also miss you like crazy. (As in I'm literally going crazy.) Basically, everyone seems to want a big chink of my time and energy, but honestly I'd rather just be with you. Oh, and also, My 11:11 wishes are still coming true. Every. Single. One.

2.) You seem a tad bit stand-offish. Maybe I'm just paranoid. I'm really happy that your sister is okay. She's a real darling. I miss you. Also, I NEED MY DENIM JACKET.

3.) I find your sacreligious rage vastly comforting. So thank you for supplying it when I needed it.

Oh, and I wrote some lyrics. They're going to be awesome. At some point. When I work on them...

...Bye then.

Let's Rock This Bitch.

Army of Skanks,
This right here is gonna be a stupid people guessing game that I hate with all my non-existent heart.

1.) You confuse me. If you know me as well as you seem to think you do, then you would know that I'm not going to get mad because you freaking smoked pot. God, don't be so stupid. "Marijuana Juliana" was my nickname. Pot doesn't bother me. For someone who calls me one of his "best friends", it's funny how everyone else knows this stuff and I don't. And now you won't text me back. Okay, honey. When you're ready to stop being dumb, text me back. I love you. So... stop being stupid.

2.) Stop being attracted to me. Now. I love you so much, and you're really awesome. Don't ruin it by being attracted to me. I don't get itttt. I felt so bad when you were crying the other night. I was almost crying, and you know how weird that is for me. Always be awesome. Okay? Shake a nola forever.

3.) I miss you so fucking much. I feel like it's my fault that we aren't as close as we were. You have been a better friend to me than literally anyone else. I'm sorry that I suck so bad. It's nothing you did. I hope that I'll be able to get you back, because you're one of the few people in my life that I genuinely rely on. I love you so much, even though I never say it enough. You're amazing, and fantastic, and I miss you.

I'm just like Janice in Mean Girls.

DONE.

Black Tears? Now I'm Officially an Emo Chic. Or not.

So, Today I had a complete emotional breakdown. Considering the fact that I was crying it wasn't as bad as usual, because if you know me you know that when I cry I often have an emotional fit that would scare the pants off every female bitch fit you've ever seen; In fact, it would probably horrify every therapist I've ever met, and that's plenty. However, I was being watched. So, instead of writhing on the floor and screaming I just sobbed, gasped, and rocked back and forth. My mother watched with complete mortification, and Kenzy was very excited that she had finally joined the very small club of people who have seen me cry.

If you're wondering why I was crying, I went from angry, to horrified, to overwhelmed, to annoyed, to panicked in under 3 hours. First, a girl in my father's congregation was disfellowshipped. It was like realizing you were at a funeral, after thinking you were at a wedding. Then, I was told that Tucker's beautiful little angel darling of a sister is in the hospital. Then, I had one of my angry rants where I started shouting, " What is it that you people want me to feel!? Just tell me what you want me to feel and I'll act like I feel it so everyone will leave me alone!" Then, my mother made the grave mistake of touching my neck. I went from hysterical laughter to hysterical sobbing in a matter of 30 seconds. It was the tip of a huge iceberg of religious angst, teenage annoyance, and life-long anxiety issues. Since, I didn't get to have my full force nervous breakdown I'm totally thrown off emotionally now. Also, I hadn't cried in over 4 months; I was trying to break my 8 month record, AND NOW I HAVE TO START ALL OVER. Godammit.

Anywho, my life wreaks of Nag Champa and Adolescence. I'm writing far too much, but hey, if you didn't want to be bored by my freakish personal life you wouldn't read my blog. Kenzy's playing a song and singing, " I want to insert lyrics here that sound really cool. So I can write like Jewlz." I don't know. I feel like as a lyricist I'm growing, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm good; It just means I suck a little less. I wrote two songs. One of which I wrote a bass line for and the other for which I wrote a chord progression. Now she's saying, " I want to cartoonify Noah and rip off his head." I don't really have any comments on that. Other than that... Yeah. Nothing. Then she sang," E is sad. And Em is sad. E will never be happy. E is like me." Classic Kenzy.

I have a pretty jampacked weekend. Noah's coming over tomorrow during the day, Then Mia's spending the evening with me, Then I'm going over Mia's for a party/sleepover thingy Saturday. Then, I'll probably find some other people who want a piece of my life to hang out with Sunday. Then I have the district convention next weekend. 3 DAYS OF CHURCH. THREE. I'm going to murder my entire congregation in their sleep, unless I find some way to distract myself from the religious propganda mixed with social inablitly always found at these things.

[Note: There is a very obvious lack of code names, numbered people, and any manner of inconspicuity in this post. I don't care for failed attempts at stealthiness. Just remember people, that we always know who you're talking about. So, it doesn't matter.]

That Stupid Guessing Game We All Love So Very Fluffing Much.

1.) We are going to hell, my love. Particularly me. I plan to force you to watch black and white movies with me. Hm. Hell and Vintage Movies? We have a regular dark romantic comedy on our hands don't we? Ah, you're just another character in my weirdly 80's movie esque life, but I love you. Always have, will for atleast the next decade. ( We both know I suck at romance.)

2.)FLUFF. Don't do thatttt. Still loving you, as promised.

3.) Your blog is like the best thing since the invention of the nudist colony. You're still my favorite. Please don't injure your bassist. Walk the 50 yards to my house please. You will do as I say because I am all powerful and awesome? Good.

I'm functioning on 3 hours of sleep. This is all you get.