are you surprise i still know my login info?

i sure was

i've transitioned over to myspace for any and all internet updates

if you haven't heard from me in a while you should check me out on myspace for some rather exciting updates: shizzah minelli on there or email of stagehandjohnnybeehatch@hotmail.com

laters

If you change your mind, I'm the first in line
Honey I'm still free
Take a chance on me
If you need me, let me know, gonna be around
If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down
If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown
Honey I'm still free
Take a chance on me
Gonna do my very best and it ain't no lie
If you put me to the test, if you let me try

music: lets get is started (in here) - black eyed peas

just thought i woud at least say that i have nothing to post instead of just posting nothing. jeez, you'd think going to work, a party, and a movie all in one day would at least generate some urge to write about it.

instead i'm just posting for the sake of posting SOMETHING.

hey

i am officially back online - just got hooked back up. but now that i have been away for so long, i am feeling a little disconnected from it all . . . so many people i haven't talked to since disappearing off the face of the internet world . . .

it's time to get caught back up!!

i look forward to chatting with y'all again!

location: home mood: ecstatic music: some song by the cure

i bet you all thought that i was dead. well, i guess i'm not as i am the only person in the universe who knows of this account. so i must be alive.

wow . . . so much of my life has passed without comment on this nifty little online blog. that makes me so sad.

everyone needs to call me if they really want to see how i am doing because i don't think that even I could type the events of the last 6 months without a computer. if you don't have my number . . . shizzah. call me anyway.


ahhhhh . . . too much ice cream . . . is there really such a thing?!

i mean . . . wow.

i can't even bullshit my way out of this entry. i am sitting here trying to . . . find some way of expressing myself and simply cannot find the words. i really can't.

i basically just wanted to say to the few people who rely on this blog for communications with me that i am not avoiding you nor have i forgotten you in anyway.

i liked to think that the only reason that i haven't been actively updating any of my online personas is because i don't have access but i would be lying to myself. i can't think of anything meaningful to say and find the silence to be so much easier.

just know . . .that i care

what did i just find out after an extended time period without internet? my favorite boys in the whole world released a new single and i didn't know. . .

how sad . . .

so i am sitting in the library at SFCC after what feels like the longest time away from school and pondering how it is that i am here still . . . after two years . . . i was supposed to be moving on to "greener pastures" accomplishing something. instead i'm . . . not. (bad thing number one)

funny how life (or more accurately poverty) does that to you . . . (bad thing number two)

don't fear. i am not as morose i (or you) might think this sounds. i actually have great hopes for myself. a year of limbo to earn my own money so as to establish myself independently so that i can figuratively and literally own my education is really a good thing. (see, i promised a good thing)

i am leaving this on a positive note and i hope that seeing gia again after no more than 3 minutes on school property is a sign of more good things to come.

i haven't been on lj in forever and a day . . .

i just thought that i would say that i am indeed still alive and still the biggest fuck up ever.

see all you from school on septermber 20th!!

totally stealing this from autumn but . . .

if you want to actually write words to me on an actual sheet of paper than put said paper into an envelope, lick it, close it, put a stamp on it and write this address on it:

Camp Gifford
3846 N. Deer Lake Rd
Loon Lake WA
99148

i will have to sing/dance/make an ass of myself in order to read your words.

fun times.

missed chances have the power to make me . . . oh so depressed.

one in the morning on technically sunday, july 31, 2005 and i am pondering the idiosyncrisies of my life.

i mean, i made what seems to me like the weirdest decision of my life at the beginning of the summer - to go work at camp. this basically translates to cutting myself off from life as i knew it and jumping feet first into another reality - camp reality.

and up until today, i hadn't even realized that i was growing attatched to camp reality. but i was just reminded that camp reality is coming to a close an end in two weeks and i am going to have to give up . . . everything.

it just seems like WAY too much to handle. i don't know . . . i refused to let myself "get attached" to the people at camp because i knew that i would be faced with this issue come the end of summer.

but somehow everyone just wheedled their way in (including jo). i don't want to get nostalgic but . . . i can't help it!

autumn, i am upset about this. why can't i be heartless and just totally not care? facing the depression afterwards is just too much.

i mean, for me this whole summer was just an aberration. a one-time-event. i don't have any plans of ever coming back to camp in way shape or form (and don't take that as an insult) and i am pretty sure that i wouldn't be invited back (recent ISSUES considered) and when i went into counseling i was absolutely fine with that reality.

but here i am sitting in lorin's apartment close to tears when i hate to cry thinking that . . . i let myself get attached when i knew that i was going to have to let go.

from here on in, it's just basically mindless self-deprecation so feel free to just IGNORE.

( whine whine whine )

mood: contemplative music: some weird alien movie on AMC . . .

wooop wooopp!!

( cutting edge info here . . .  )

twice in one week . . . it's overwhelming, i know.

i just thought that i would . . . post pictures of myself.

( join me in my worship of myself . . . )

i bet you all thought that i fell into a hole and died. didn't you?!

well, rest assured that i am indeed amongst the living.

basically . . . . i did fall into a hole. seriously.

right after finals (was that really only 3 weeks ago?!) i got a call from autumn and she asked if i would apply to be a counselor at her camp this summer. i did and i got the job. the very next day i had to get my stuff together and the day after that i went out to the camp sight for a week of orientation and ever since then i have been slowly losing my mind - getting paid $160 a week plus room/board/food.

all in all a good time.

taylor: i don't like "pussy bitch" as a name for my cat . . .

i'm going to name him:

"Small, simple, safe price. Rise the wake and carry me with all of my regrets. This is not a small cut that scabs, and dries, and flakes, and heals. And I am not afraid to die.I'm not afraid to bleed, and fuck, and fight. I want the pain of payment. What's left, but a section of pigmy size cuts. Much like a slew of a thousand unwanted fucks. Would you be my little cut? Would you be my thousand fucks? And make mark leaving space for the guilt to be liquid. To fill, and spill over, and under my thoughts. My sad, sorry, selfish cry out to the cutter. I'm cutting trying to picture your black broken heart. Love is not like anything. Especially a fucking knife. Look at me. You can tell, By the way I move and do my hair? Do you think that it's me, Or is it not me? I don't even care. I'm alive, I don't smell. I'm the cleanest I have ever been. I feel big, I feel tall, I feel dry. Dry. Just look at me, look at me now. I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake. Just look at me, look at me now. I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake. Do I drink? Do I date? I've got perfect placements. All my ink Satisfied, in your eyes. I'm the biggest fan I've got right now. I made sure that I look how I wanted to look. The people around me, The people surround me. I feel big, I feel tall, I feel dry. Dry. Just look at me, look at me now. I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake. Just look at me, look at me now. I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake. Just look at me now. I'm a fake, I'm a fake. Just look at me now. I'm a fake, I'm a fake. My stomach hurts now, And all tied off in lace. I pray, beg, for anything to hit me in the face. And this sickness isn't me. AND I pray to fall from grace. The last thing I see is feeling. And I'm telling you I'm a fake, I'm telling you I'm a fake. Just look at me, look at me now. I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake. Just look at me, look at me now. I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake. Just look at me now. I'm a fake, I'm a fake. Just look at me now. I'm a fake, I'm a fake. I'm telling you I'm Fake!"

. . . probably just "Fake" for short."

so this is my absolute most favorite hat that i have ever seen. it rawks hard core.

thank you lorin's mom - you are kewl!!

what more can i say? i just . . .

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can't even handle it.

mood: numb music: MCR: you know what they do to guys like us in prison

hahahahaha!! OMG. i have to share this everyone here. this relates to my post from yesterday which i just happened to cross post on myspace * http://www.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewProfile&friendID=16938613&Mytoken=20050609080649 * and some really cool guy (who also happens to be a complete stranger) said this in response to my post:

"You need a trip to SILVERWOOD for sure. I mean, seriously, think about it.

Depressed? Not after a ride or two on the exciting new TREMORS ride! Nothing makes you feel more alive than that split second you feel like you are going to die.

Trouble eating? Well if there is one thing that is easy to keep down, its a plump and juicy CORNDOG. Uh, unless you are like me and think it tastes as good coming up as going down.

Parental problems? There are like, tons of good spots to hide a CORPSE at Silverwood. Nobody would ever think to freakin' check in that tired-ass watertube ride.

Can you say ROAD TRIP?!?!?!"

mood: laughing my ass off music: MCR: you know what they do to guys like us in prison

way too much time on my hands . . . .( look only if you love me )