soft.and.gentle

In a week from today I will be finished with my freshmen year of college. Who knew that it would go by so fast?! I feel so old.

I received an email from Ruth today. She sent me a picture of the baby. The baby's name is Mataya. Click this. The first pic. is Ruth with Mataya. She was born April 12, 2004.

Well, I know this is short, but I am moving into my new place today. So much work, so little play.

Have a great weekend. Take Care; try to relax.

*Title*

Today started off like any other day. But, alas, looks can be deceiving.

After bio, I decided to go finish my lit paper, well, technically it's supposed to be a short summary about the poet we saw on Thursday. However, mine is a four page essay. And it's kick ass. So I better be getting hella extra credit. Anyways, so here I am, typing along, and Jenny pops up, soon followed by Becky (the girl I am living with this summer). We are chatting, having girl talk, when all of a sudden, "OH MY GOSH! I BROKE MY FLIP-FLOP!" Yes, indeed, I had broken my flip-flop. Broken it so bad it was impossible to walk in it. So I wandered the hall in the science center, like a homeless person. Then, dear Jenny, took pity on my poor soul. "Megan, would you like to borrow my flip-flops?" Now, that's a good friend. One who sacrifices themselves, for the good of you. Well, we thought that it was the funniest thing in the world. The lil flip-flop dangling off her foot.

Then, I shot up heroin and got knocked up. And that's the end of the story. Ha.

I think I want a pet snake for my new house. I was watching Real World the other day, and a girl on there has a pet snake. Now I have this incessable urge to get one.

I watched Queer Eye last night. It was freakin AWESOME! Except that the straight looked like a scurry ferret.

I want to go to a concert this summer. I want it to be a trend for me to go to a concert every summer. Cause that would be great....

Last summer I went to Tom Petty; it was so good. I don't think anything could top it....but I want to try.

This is a tobacco free environment. No smoking or chewing.

Don't eat the Pizza Hut buffet.

Strange days have found us. And through their strange hours. We linger alone. Bodies confused. Memories misused. As we run from the day. To a strange night of stone.

*Title*

Here I am. Still avoiding phone calls....still living in my bomb shelter. And yes, I have a phone in my bomb shelter. My mom pays my cell phone bill...sometimes.

I just got done with lit class and I really just want to paint my nails blue. I forgot to write about the poet I saw on Thursday. He was great.

The "smart" kids had to give presentations today in lit. class while the rest of us stared off and drooled. But, it turned out for the better because that meant no quiz.

I think my bomb shelter is going to collapse. The wind is blowing so hard I can feel the building wobble. And my bomb shelter isn't underground. Nope, it is high up. Very dangerous. But that's how I like it. I like to taste the danger. Grrr...

Spring has sprung. That is one of the cheesy little bulletin board sayings in my dorm. The RA's make those to cheer us up. We are all suicidal and under the influence of vast quantities of Opium...so every little bit of cheer helps.

I am sewing pillows. One side has palm trees and the other side is a solid green. But..the solid green is super soft.

I love people. I like to watch them...I like to eat them, like cupcakes...like big cupcakes...

The dogs slaughter each other softly. Love burns its casualties. We are damaged provider modules. Spill the seeds at our children's feet. I'm so empty here without you. I know they want me dead.

The week is almost over. Thank God. It's not hell week until next week, but this week was definitely way worse then any hell week.

I went to a poet tonight, at the coffee shop in Madison, yes, Madison has a coffee shop. I was surprised too. Miles and I had to drive around for 45 min. to find it, but we finally did. They have pretty good beverages, I had a Italian Cream Soda and Miles had a Jet Tea Smoothie. Then Miles accused me of hitting on Brandon, a class mate of mine, which by the way, I wasn't. So, he wrote dark poetry about slitting my throat in my sleep.

Pretty sure I just got done eating chocolate ice cream, pretty sure I will need to go on a diet. Oh well...Thank you TCBY.

I noticed people comment more when you post a funny post versus a suicidal one. So, here's a joke I heard:

TOP TEN SIGNS YOUR AMISH TEEN IS IN TROUBLE

10. Sometimes stays in bed till after 5:00AM.

9. In his sock drawer, you find pictures of women without
bonnets.

8. Shows up at barn raisings in full "Kiss" makeup.

7. When you criticize him, he yells, "Thou sucketh!"

6. His name is Jebediah, but he goes by "Jeb Daddy."

5. Defiantly says, "If I had a radio, I'd listen to rap!"

4. You come upon his secret stash of colorful socks.

3. Uses slang expression: "Talk to the hand, cause the beard
ain't listening."

2. Was recently pulled over for "driving under the influence
of cottage cheese."

1. He's wearing his big black hat backwards!

HaHaHa, funny huh? Ok, really, that was the lamest joke ever, I actually got it in a forward. So, I thought I would pass it on...since it's so great and all.

Big plans for the weekend...sleep...and sleep. And pretend I have a life. I should be a lazy pile forever:)

Good bye everyone. Until we meet again.

It had rained so much, when I arrived at Poli Sci, my notebooks and folders were all soggy. It made me so happy.

I love the rain. The weather today is beautiful, so perfect. I wish it was like this everyday. Days like these I don't mind being alone with my thoughts...I welcome them.

I hate growing up. I think my best writing was when I was in high school. Everything was so new and painful. I had to write, without writing I surely wouldn't be here today. It kept me alive. My first love, my first heartbreak, the first time a boy cheated on me, the first time I cheated on a boy, all the firsts make great literature. The pain and torment from experiencing things for the first time, the loss of innocence, is a feeling unlike any other. I could just pour my soul out onto a piece of paper. Worrying only about getting all the emotion out.

Now, nothing is new. Through growing up, one is made conscience of their writing. Now, one has to be aware of what he/she writes. Adulthood is censorship.

Today, I was alone on my floor. I was going to the bathroom to brush my teeth, when I saw a man. He was just wondering around on the floor. Only him and I, just the two of us, on the whole floor. At first I thought of my safety. What if he raped me? It isn't often you see some random, upper 50's, man, walking around in an all girls dorm. Then it dawned on me. It was my father. He was looking for me.

I would go back to my room, and shortly there after he would knock on my door. Of course I would be skeptical, so I would only open the door a little bit. He would say, "Are you Megan?" I would say, "Why" Then, the climax, "I am your father." Do I slam the door in his face, or embrace him?

I never got that far.

He is the maintenance man.

Who are you and where are you in my life? I was wondering how much of me is still alive. I don't even know if I can swim again. You know how cold we get with all this struggling.

*Title*

After reading Miles' recent post I felt compelled to write about blogs too.

Blogging is a trend. Everyone blogs. I hate trends...but I blog. Where did my life go so wrong? But really, when you think about it, anything can be labeled as a trend. If several people do something, then it's a trend. For example, even rock can be defined as a trend....look at "punk" music; it's now more pop then punk. What, nevermind, this is about blogs, not trends, we can debate semantics later. Back to where I was...

Even Republicans have jumped on the blogging band wagon. Several weeks ago, while attending CR State Convention, our eager, republican ears fell victim to a one hour seminar on blogging. Some fuck in a three piece suit tried to convince me to start a blog about Republican issues, or some specific candidate. He treated us like infants. "This is how you turn the computer on...this is how you double-click...blah blah..."

Next came the reason, "Blogging is the newest form of spreading information. If you, our youth, doesn't blog and 'get the word out, ' we will all die and the world will come to an end."

Of course we had to have an example. Fuck in three piece suit: "Who would like to volunteer?" Eager individual: "OOOOOHHHHH, ME ME, PICK ME, PLLLLEEEAASSSEEEE!!!" as Eager Individual humps the leg of the three piece suit. Our excited fellow turns out to be none other then Eric. Oh Eric, always willing to "help out." Thanks big guy, without you I would be......where I am now.

Anyways. I think that self-expression is a great idea. Let's all self-express. Let's all be deep and witty. Let's all think that people give a shit about what we write.

I also noticed that everyone has a title to each of their blogs. I don't have a title. What the hell?! If I am going to be on the blogging band wagon, I need a title. So I can be like everyone else. I just want to be "groovy"...titles are "groovy."

I saw Kill Bill Vol. 2 this weekend. Good freakin' movie. I want it. Give it to me. If you didn't get me a Christmas gift, I will forgive you. But, my birthday is coming up, so you gotta make it extra good. I am getting old...and my breasts still haven't grown. My mom said after child birth her breasts needed their own area code.

I am currently reading The House of the Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne. I got it for 25 cents at the library. Book sales ROCK!

OOOHHH, next should come blogs about blogging. How awesome? See, Miles started it, Miles started a trend. We should all write about how blogging about blogs is a trend. This is great.

Usually I am angry, or depressed, or moody, or suicidal when I post.

Ha, NOT TODAY! Nope, I am sitting in the computer lab, by a slightly opened window, feeling the nice, cool breeze glide across my bare skin. What can be more wonderful then that?! Well...

I FOUND A PLACE TO LIVE!!! Yep, that's right. Now for those of you who don't know, this dilemma has been causing me lack of sleep and much stress (and bitchiness if you ask what's-his-face).

It all started when I woke up this morning. I gently fluttered my pretty, enchanting, blue eyes open and peered around. Ok, so far, so good. No strange men in my bed and no missing limbs. I remain in the fetal position as I wonder to myself..."what day is it...do I have things to do today...should I be doing something at this very moment..." I stagger out of bed and look at myself in the mirror. Shit... I look like white trash from a bad porn. Definitely need to shower...

I arrive in my room 20 minutes later, so fresh, so clean. In the shower I had pondered the above questions; in the end determining, that indeed, today was Friday. I had also determined that maybe I should make an effort to look presentable, since the days prior consisted of t-shirts and jeans. So, I picked out several shirts and my favorite pair of jeans. I painstakingly tried on 8-10 shirts, each time making the journey down the hall to the full length mirror. Apparently, Erin, my RA, had been thinking the same thing. We shared the mirror as well as clothing ideas. To make a long story short, I ended up with a different pair of jeans (not my original pair) and a completely different shirt that I hadn't even picked out or tried on.

Ok, I'm skipping the rest of the morning routine, the only other new/exciting thing was that I re-highlighted my hair pink. Wow.

Onto bio. Bio went well. Jenny and I read Seventeen, took a few quizzes in the mag, and filled each other in on very important "girl stuff." Oh ya, and there were bio things too...like a powerpoint, and a Writing to Learn (only worth 3 points...).

Lunch. Lunch was fun. I was privileged enough to be accompanied to lunch by Miles. Miles, too, was having a good day. The weather is beautiful and he doesn't have anything due today, other then a math quiz. Our lunch contained minimal stress (which is usually not the case). We chatted, ate Dairy Queen, and came back to school.

The best part is coming..not that bio with Jenny and lunch with Miles didn't KICK ASS!!! But really...the good stuff is coming.

I arrive at algebra, dreading it, knowing this is the worst part of the day. Sadly, I was one of the last students to arrive. My seat was occupied...*gasp*...no worries, it's just Becky:) She's a sweet girl; I've seen her in band; we've chatted briefly about Europe 'n' things. We seem to click. So, I sit beside her. We both agree that Math with Kim Jones = HELL. Kim Jones = Math Nazi.

I can't quite remember how the conversation goes...but she ends up saying "If you need a place to stay this summer, I have a place." "OMG! I LOVE YOU BECKY! YOU ARE MY FAVORITE!" Ok, it didn't really go like that. I was more calm...can't seem too excited. Real reply: "Really?" So, we go into detail about it. And she says "Would you like to come see it (meaning the house) after class?" It's like an invitation to the gates of Heaven.

We arrive at her house; directly across from campus. It's got lil blue shutters and lil blue hearts. Sooo Cute:) Here we are. She shows me around; my room, the bathroom, the other rooms, the upstairs, the basement. I HAVE MY OWN ROOM! We chat and play with her puppy.

Here I am, now, on the computer. The story has come full circle. And I am posting. That's good right? As long as I brighten someone's day. So...

I can hardly believe that school is almost over. The last couple weeks are so stressful!!!

I have had the flu for about a week now, but I think I am finally getting over it. I had the flu over Easter, yet the guilt of not speaking with my friends/ex-friends since Graduation, consumed me. So I sucked it up, and answered their pleas.

Saturday night I hung out with Ruth. She had her baby yesterday. She had to have a cesarean section; the baby was breached. It is a little girl, named Mataya (don't know if I spelled that right). She smoked all through her pregnancy- A LOT!

Anyways, I started this last night, but today is a new day, and I don't feel much like going through a run down of my Easter.

I feel more like little snipets of my weekend.

I saw Joe. That was weird. He hasn't changed a bit. I had heard that after I came to college he became a hermit. He didn't shave and he let his hair grow out. He's cleaned up a bit since then I guess. He looked the same to me.

At first, my initial reaction was that Joe had changed a lot, but really, he hasn't. I think I have changed and he has stayed the same.

He is still one of my best friends. I don't care if all I have are memories, those are enough to live off.

I guess Kelsie is a whore. Maybe she was only beautiful for a time, and she finally let Gregory destroy her. Or maybe I was blind. Maybe she's been ugly all along. Gregory ruins people. She had potential.

Shit, I have class. I'm sorry. I never have time anymore. I need my own computer. Next year....next year will be better. Always an excuse.

Alone as I sit and watch the trees. Won't you tell me if I scream. Will they bend down and listen to me.
And it makes me wonder if I know the words. Will you come. Or will you laugh at me. Or will I run.

No neat lyrics, no groovy links, just plain ole ramblings. I wish I could add all those spiffy lil extras I usually provide, but alas, with this computer you are lucky to get one window open at a time. In the time it took to load this page I had wrapped a present, ate some yogurt, and petted my dog. At the end of all that, it still wasn't loaded. I tried to send some e-cards, because that is what only children in bomb shelters with only Ovaltine and yogurt do, but couldn't complete that mission. I had to ctl-alt-del that one. Bastards.

I got a sticker this morning that said "Ban intolerance" it made me giggle. That's an oxymoron. My mom said..."Oh, uh, umm, hey, that's one of those one things, you know, ummm..." "Yes, Mother, that is called an oxymoron."

I am supposed to be helping set up for the new-church-members-reception. HA, but I'm not!!!

I have four loads of laundry to do, and it is 1:13 PM, and I am still in my pjs. I am going to stay in my bomb shelter forever. No one can find me here.

There is more to come...

My favorite inside source. I'll kiss your open sores. Appreciate your concern. You'll always stink and burn.

I have just completed a brutal algebra test. When I arrived in the classroom I was pretty nervous, but when I sat down to start taking the test I started shaking, literally. My tummy felt all kinds of funny and my hands were shaking so bad I couldn't box my answers. My boxes are more like squiggly ovals.

But anyways, enough of that. More importantly, TODAY IS THE TEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF KURT COBAIN'S DEATH! Notice I didn't say suicide; that is because I feel that there are avenues of his death yet to be examined.

I have a large obsession with Kurt Cobain. I used to think that we were destined to be together, and that when I died we would be married in heaven. But, alas, I have grown from my childhood fantasies.

If you too love Kurt, join this site (I am a member-it's good shit!).

My weekend was insane. I think I will be tired the rest of my life. Then I was lucky enough to start out the rest of the week with two tests this morning.

On the bright side, THE PLAY IS OVER!

On the not-so-bright side, I HAVE TO GO TO GREGORY THIS WEEKEND.

On the bright side, AT LEAST IT'S A FOUR DAY WEEKEND.

On the not-so-bright side, THAT LEAVES VERY LITTLE TIME TO IMPROVE MY GRADES BEFORE FINALS.

Ok, I'll quit now.

What are everyone's plans for Easter break? Ha, that means if you read this you HAVE to comment...cause it's a question...so that means you have to comment...since I asked a question...

I'm really out of it. My body is all tense and I think I am hallucinating. Lack of sleep and stress can lead to a heart attack. Scurry...

I should read. I have to...I mean "get to" read Tender is the Night for my lit. class. I enjoy my lit class..more or less enjoy the discussions.

I'm so tired I can't sleep. I'm a liar and a thief. Sit and drink Pennyroyal Tea. I'm anemic royalty.

Well, surprisingly I am actually going to post today. Well, I mean, I hope I am going to post today. Or rather, I hope I will finish this in time to post it.

I have exactly one half hour to write this. Which really would be enough time; that is, if you aren't using a 1980s Gateway computer with a keyboard that likes to work, sometimes. Oh yeah, and I'm eating Dairy Queen, which I find semi-important.

Today is April Fool's Day. I suck at April Fool's Day. I can't keep a straight face; no one believes me. I'm too cute and endearing (sarcasm). I tried to tell Miles I was pregnant/cheated on him/had cancer/split personality/lesbian/loved Hanson/etc. But he wouldn't believe me. Whatever. Someday, someone will believe me *sniff sniff*


I haven't figured out if this weekend is going to suck ass or kick ass. I have to go to S.F. for CR State Convention. That'll be interesting. Some people just suck, you know. Some people are just angry and bitter, and I 'd rather not spend the entire weekend with them. I'll let you know, since I am sure you are dying to hear.

Speaking of dying, that's gotta be getting pretty close, right?

Dairy Queen's Diet Coke tastes more like regular Coke.

I'm going to Gregory for Easter. That's only a week away. Gregory is like a mind fuck. One big mind fuck. Ruth should be huge. She's due 4-20. Who would have guessed (more sarcasm).

Boys are great, every girl should own one.

Satan is everywhere... raping our children. Satan is: algebra/bitter people/unfriendly customer service/old Gateway computers/Dairy Queen employees that put your drink in a brown paper bag/homophobics/etc. We have our work cut out for us, but I know we can do it.

I love TLC (the channel). Gay people ROCK! I love how TLC has gay couples on Trading Spaces and that one Fix It show (the name escapes me right now...). Last night I watched TLC in Emry 4th Floor Lobby until my eyes bled. That was great. Oh, and I ate dry Corn Pops. I love to eat food with dry mouth. I love feeling of the skin ripping off the back of my throat as I swallow. Or better yet, when I try to open my mouth, but it is glued shut from lack of moisture and all I can do is gurgle little bits of Corn Pops while people stare at me...waiting for a reply.

Tom's new girlfriend is pretty cool. I guess she is mostly lesbian. Or, "she's been with way more girls than guys" in the words of Tom. I talked to him on the phone last night. The whole friendship-after-dating thing is actually working out for us. I'll admit I was initially skeptical. I'm not a big fan of the friendship-after-dating thing. It's kinda worked so far...

Well, I have 7 min. left. Wow, I rock.

There are days, when I fear for my life. Think that's strange, well that's the waste of you.