There comes a point in your life when you realize that it is time to grow up. I have no room in my life for negative, hedonistic, and selfish people. I myself am guilty for all of these qualities, but it is time for change. Sometimes it's easy to forget that we aren't the only person in the world with needs, wants, and aspirations. You know something is wrong with your life when you don't even have five close friends who would be there for you no matter what. You know there is something wrong if you are constantly wondering if your best friends are saying things about you as soon as you leave the room. Its even worse when you find out that your assumptions are true. From this very day on I have decided to be selective about the people I choose to associate with. This will have nothing to do with the color of your hair, whether or not you dress well, or listen to the right music. I want real people, real conversations, real friendships. And right now I feel like I'm lacking that. I don't care if your favorite band is slipknot, if you are a loyal person, you are a loyal person. And personally, that's all I want right now.

he smiled when he walked in. Loose change and keys jingling in his pocket. Spring must have been inserted into the soles of his shoes, and invisible strings must have been keeping his mouth creased upwards in a melted U shape style. He laughed at me because I was sitting cross legged on a table intently studying the chart that explained the all of the internal organs with pictures and large words the things that live inside my body. I don't know who invented the named for everything, but whoever decided that the medical term for "Heart" must have been funnier than _____ (insert the name of someone terrible funny). I mean, honestly. Myocardial infarction? MY OLD CAR DIAL IN FAR ACTION. I just remember taking some class freshmen year; health, biology, science... Who really knows. I went to a cheap private school and all the classes were the exact same thing, only some of the classrooms had more comfortable desks, and the history teacher was hot. (By the way, I still have a crush on him. It is a bit weird now seeing him with his children, and his plain but pretty wife who looks like she is probably on anti-psychotics, was a cheerleader in highschool because her parents wanted her to be, but really inside wanted to be gothic, paint her nails black, and dance to the cure (But baptists aren't allowed to dance because only demons dance, and we all know that demons are the devils slaves (as is oZzY OzBoUrNe), and we all know where the devil came from.




OH. Back to myocardial infarction-- The freshmen boys always used to laugh at it because infarction sounded like something that had to do with feces....I guess.

Right class?

HEAVEN. xfallenxangelx

That would be his screen name if he was a straight edge scene kid (the devil that is), but that's bullshit, because he's the fucking devil. Why on earth would he be straight edge? The only X's he has on his wrists come in trios XXXCUSE ME WHAT?

Well, back to what we were talking about, which you probably don't remember, because I'm having a hard time following myself -- That's always a great sign.

He had nice eyes, and asked me lots of questions about my history. He likes drinking soda and eating hot wings, which is okay, because I like diet pepsi, but hot wings not so much. I talked about my stomach problems and bulimia, which isn't something I just tell people (Unless it's livejournal...How screwed up is this world these days, seriously). He said he understood. Well, he didn't really get the bulimia thing, but he has stomach problems too.

He pushed my hair behind my ear and told me he would heal me. He made me open my mouth, then moved his hands around my neck and shoulders. He asked, but did not demand, that I lay down on the table.

I did.

I asked him if I should unzip my jacket, and he said that that would be a good idea. He felt his way around my stomach, rib cage, sides, that little pooch on my abdomen that I am so self conscious about. The radio was quietly playing in the background. The weather alert siren started beeping, and the robot voice told me that there was a tornado watch in effect. Sadly, the robot still hasn't learned how to pronounce words correctly. If you ask me, I think the guy's tone deaf.

He didn't hear the radio go off. He made some jokes, I made some jokes, we talked a bit. He made me feel comfortable.


Then he told me to sit up.

"Inhale, Exhale, Inhale, Exhale."


Then he put the stethescope back around his neck, and told I had gastroesophageal something or other because I take too much ibuprofen, gave me some medicine to fix it, and told me he'd see me in a couple months.

In the waiting room, I poured a glass of complimentary Ronnoco Coffee. I don't know anything about Ronnoco coffee, but my mom always said, "IF IT AIN'T RONNOCO, DON'T BUY IT!" (But she also always said, "If a song has cowbell in it, YOU KNOW IT'S GONNA BE A HIT!!!") I sat down in an ugly purple chair, and noticed that all these people were staring at me. Blank, emotionless stares. As if me being at the doctor's office didn't already make me uncomfortable enough. But instead of staring back, I stared at the creamer swirl-- I mean...the clumps of creamer that didn't dissolve-- in my cup of coffee*.

(* Come to find out, they weren't really staring at me, but the 40 inch wide screen television that was hanging on the wall directly behind me.)


I sat and talked to a lady who told me that she had been hit by a 2000 pound beam that, according to her, had just fallen from the sky. Blue sky. No warning. BAM. Crushed. I almost asked her if it was fatal, but figured that she may not get my off-wall sense of humor, because generally I am the only one who appreciates my jokes (Making yourself laugh is half of the battle.) She also told me that if I went to a psychologist, they could give me a medicine that would make me stop crying. forever. FOREVER. Do you understand what I just said? A tearless life! No more runny mascara or blotchy red cheeks. I was in shock, mostly because I was not aware that the cure for tears was yet invented. I mean, sure, I figured they were working on it, but a successful development? Music to my pretty little ears. I even made a note in my phone about it. "SEE SHRINK. NO MORE TEARS. 4 EVAH". In a week's time my alarm will go off, and those exact words will flash across the screen. While I didn't have much to input, the lady continued to tell me obscure things about herself, and her life.. like the time she had a heart attack while shopping for groceries.

"How did you know you were having a heart attack?" I inquisitively asked.

Even though I am young, I did eat at Mcdonalds excessively as a child, and you never knows when your heart will start lashing out at you for treating it so badly all of these years.

"HEEEEEHEEEEEHEEEEE" She [heartily] burst. (And while I realize that 'bursted' is not a word. I would like to point out that 'bursted' would be significantly more appropriate to describe volcanic laugh that erupted from her stomach.)

"It burned. I felt like my chest was going to explode (I was half expecting her to exclaim, "It was GREAT DUUUDE!" at the end of the sentence, because she was...still laughing.) I drove home and even put the groceries away before I called 911. I kept ramming my shoulder into the fridge. I thought it would keep things Circulatin', y'know? But HEEEHEEHEE. I was laughing the entire time. Funny part was, I was s'posed to go into the doc's the next day to get a stress test. Doc said it would be good for prevention. HEEEHEEEHEE" PUH-REE-VEN-TION. That's a laugh."


I quietly listened, my eyes probably the size of mutated walnuts. Everyone else read their magazines, and I wondered if I was the only one who could hear this woman's bountiful volcano laugh.



Eventually the nurse called my name. They gave me a pair of blue shorts that could fit three people inside of them. I had some problems keeping them on. A draw string was included, but I was never good at tying things. I'm the kid who had velcro shoes until they were 15. Yeah. THAT KID. (Also known as: Home schoolers.) At one point when I was walking -- waddling, more so -- they shorts started to slowly fall to my knees. And, Oh! They smelled like hospital food. Hospital food smells like hospital floor smells like hospital bed smells like hospital clothes smells like hospital elevators. I can't compare the smell to anything else. Hospital smells like hospital, nothing else. It is an international smell. "What did she smell like?" "Hospital." And everyone in the room will shake their heads in unison, and imagine the exact same smell as the person to their left, without even realizing it.

The nurse made me hold onto a shiny metal bar, while she sandwiched my hips into two lighted robot walls, that had the power to see my bones through my skin. It was like being inside a giant camera. Then the awkward nurse, in the plastic booth would yell, "HOLD YOUR BREATH! BREATHE! OKAY! AGAIN. HOLD BREATH. BREATH. BREATH? OKAY!". The way her voice reverberated off of the large robot walls made it seem like the entire world could hear her commanding me to live. She could have at least said, "CHEESE!" and winked at me.

The doctor talked as if he was stuck on fast forward and wrote pretend word scribbles on a giant piece of paper. I think he was just scribbling random lines to make himself look important. I know when I hold a giant clip board, and stick a pen behind my ear, that I always feel ten times more powerful. Especially when I am getting paid a million dollars a year to do so. I mean, this guy has a brochure. No. He doesn't have his name mentioned in the hospital brochure, the guy has a brochure solely about him.

Five hours later, as I stepped out of the orthopedic center with sparkly walls, complimentary coffee, and probably its own art gallery, I could only think about that woman who put her groceries away while she was having a heart attack. Now THAT'S what I call multitasking.

be prepared, and conToRt ya'self!






S h I p S

Name: Irrelevant.
Single or taken: I'm dating myself. It seems to be working out pretty well.
Sex: scandal
Birthday: party
Sign: LANGUAGE
Siblings: sometimes
Hair color: Grey
Eye color: Depends on my mood.
Height: Uhhhh..depends on my....mood?


R e L a T i O n S h I p S <-- don't you love how the letters are all stylishly capped and un capped? I do. It's a nice garnish

Are you straight/bisexual/gay?: ALL OF THE ABOVE, minus two.
Who are your best friends?: Anyone who showers me with praise and tells me they can't live without me.
You have a boyfriend/girlfriend?: I have all three.
What is your longest relationship?: Five hours and twenty minutes.


F a S h I o N | s T u F f

Where is your favourite place to shop for clothes: Other people's closets.
Any tattoos or piercings: I have a tattoo of a bald eagle on my tongue.
What is your most comfortable outfit?: U ON ME
What do you usually wear?: Large hats and huge black rimmed sunglasses FROM THE OVER PRICED HIPSTER STORES. I ONLY BUY T-SHIRTS FROM AMERICAN APPAREL. ONLY. IT'S WORTH IT. I WILL PAY MANY DOLLARS FOR A WHITE V-NECK FOR THE SAKE OF FASHION AND POPULARITY. SAVE THE WHALES!!!!!!! Oh. and palestiean scarves. I don't know how to spell the word, but frankly, I wouldn't be caught dead not wearing one.

S p E c I f I c S

Do you do drugs? WWWOOOO. I've been snorting ibuprofen since I was ten. Take that, cokeheads!
What kind of shampoo do you use?: Um. Hipsters don't wash their hair. Ever. Kapeesh?
What are you most scared of?: Drummers
What are you listening to right now: SOMETHING TOO HIP FOR YOU TO COMPREHEND!
Who is the last person that you called?: I don't call people. They call me.
Who is the last person that called you?: A drummer.
Where do you want to get married?: Inside a giant snow globe full of neon lights, glowsticks, and popcorn. Did you know that James murphey is an ordained minister? Yeah. That's right. He's doing it. We're gonna get innocuous because daft punk is playing at my house.
What would you change about yourself?: r u sayin' i'm fat?


F a V o R i T e S

Colors: eight
Foods: Okay, listen. My mom tells me not to feed the dog human food, because it will make him beg, BUT THEN, whenever she is making sloppy joes, she feeds him raw meat. I say to her, "Mother, this is why the dog begs." And she says, "No. It's raw meat. Dogs eat raw meat. It's alright!"
Explain THAT one.
Movies: Little House on the prairie: THE MOVIE
Animals: Do lolcats count?


H a V e | Y o U | e V e R

Given anyone a bath?: Like, um. Liiiiike....uhhhhhh well like...uhh... this is awkward.
Smoked?: Pollution from cars is depleting the ozone. I hate cars. Oh. Yes, i smoke like a chiiiiiiiiimney on a cold night. Man. I hate pollution. Kill the polluters.
Bungee jumped?:  D:
Made yourself throw up?:  R U CALLIN' ME FAT???
Skinny dipped?: That is such a narrow minded name. Why not give me some other options like "Medium dipped" "Fatty Dipped" "Super Skinny Dip"
Ever been in love?: Ha! As if I would ever fall into THAT trap. LAUGH LAUGH LAUGH. I pity you all.
Made yourself cry to get out of trouble?: No. That would be manipulative
Pictured your crush naked?: Oh. So I have a crush now? Would you mind informing me who it is? I'm dying to know. Really. I am.
Actually seen your crush naked?: MY UNKNOWN CRUSH OR PAST CRUSHES? And, how 'naked' are we talkin' here?
Cried when someone died?: I've cried when someone didn't die. coughchrisd'silvacough.
Lied: Never! (I'm lying, lol)
Fallen for your best friend?: NOW COME ON. Do I look like a floozy?
Rejected someone?: Oh come on. I'm not that cruel! If I have, it's only because they are ugly, or smell weird, or something trivial like that.
Used someone?: I have used countless men for their luscious bodies.
Done something you regret?: are you real?


C u R r E n T

Clothes: heh. heh. heh!
Music: I only listen to bands who have hot guys in them.
Annoyance: The sound of people eating. (but it'd make a great band name, yeah?)
CD in player: Cattle Decapitation. Or something about dying cows.
DVD in player: Boys gone styled: unrated, uncut, UNLEASHED


L a S t | P e R s O n

You left a message for: I left a message for my future husband on the bulletin board at wal-mart tonight.
You texted: your boyfriend.
You cuddled with: "VERRRRRY NICE"
You kissed: My gorgeous reflection in the mirror.