What the fuck is so hard about it? I mean, really? How many times have you been here?

WHY is it taking you 5 minutes to order?? I would really like to know, for real. What are you doing there? I didn't know you were ordering a porterhouse and had to tell the waiter exactly how you wanted it prepared.

Then there's limited space between the pay window and the window where you get your food, and you leave too much room, so I can't pull up to the window and pay until you pull forward. This is a drive thru, not the interstate. I think you can get a little closer to the person in front of you.

I see the drive thru person hand you your one little bag and your cup of whatever you're drinking. What?! Seriously?! It took you 5 minutes to order, and that's all you have?? I thought you were ordering for an army, that's CRAZY!! Then you check your bag, and I see you give it back. What? Ugh.

Why are you so annoying?? I want to punch you in the back of your skull.

The entire time I'm behind you, I ordered my meal in 10 seconds flat, while the cashier tries to interrupt me asking all kinds of questions, and I'm telling her exactly what I want. Then I pretty much ride your bumper because you didn't pull up far enough and I really wanted the extra time I was there to think of an alternate way to pay in case my credit card doesn't go through. I finally am able to pay and then pull up to the second window and get my order right away and I check it really quick and then I'm on my way.

That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life. The most stressful amount of time out of my day.

Seriously.

I didn't know it was so hard to order fast food.

I will know for next time how I need to complicate things both for myself and for others.

I'm not even sure how I should start this post. What Dan said in his post about Muslims burning American flags struck a chord with me. Then, I just watched A Mighty Heart, with Angelina Jolie, about the American journalist beheaded in Pakistan this morning. I took a bubble bath, and thought about war, and what I think about it. I don't agree with war. Cody and I were talking about the community center near ground zero the other day, and he said, "religion is the basis of most wars." Which is true. I thought about that. I also thought about how compassionate I am, and how much of a humanitarian I am. I don't believe in anyone being harmed in any way, for any reason. I don't want people to throw a bunch of "what-ifs" in my face. I planned on writing a post specific to those thoughts for tomorrow. Which I will probably still do.

I re-read Dan's post today after watching A Mighty Heart and reading a little more about Daniel Pearl. He was murdered because he was a Jewish journalist in Pakistan investing links between the shoe bomber and Al-Qaeda.

The reasons for these kinds of crimes go back far and run deep. I don't pretend to know everything. I don't act like I do. But I believe what's in my heart, and I believe that all of this is wrong. It's how I feel.

I also feel that the reason there is so much hatred and unforgiving is that people don't truly know what's going on. They only know what they hear on the news. The average person does not seek out information, and educate themselves. I have been, pretty much all day.

What people don't seem to understand is that Muslims did not attack the United States on 9/11. Al-Qaeda did. A terrorist group. A terrorist group that is dedicated to stop the spread of "Western influence." Because Al-Qaeda is also a Muslim group, let's take a look into that.

I didn't go that far back as far as history goes. There were several parts that I skimmed over. During the Iran-Iraq war, the US secretly (not so secretly anymore) backed Iraq. We gave (sold) them the weapons to do it. Then when Iraq invaded Kuwait, the US supported Kuwait, and invaded Iraq, known as Operation Desert Storm. So do you see how that would be like a kick in the teeth? This is the briefest explanation of the chain of events, and it's more complicated than this. I am not sure who or what started this.

It kind of seems like the US, once again, stuck its hands where they don't belong... half a world away, separated by oceans and seas. I don't believe that the United States should be sticking their nose where it doesn't belong. I believe in defending ourselves, absolutely, without a doubt. But what did the Iran-Iraq war have to do with our national security? Was there a possibility of an attack against the US? Maybe? Does it make me un-American to think we have no business in affairs between other countries? Are there other countries who do this as much as the United States? Who are they? Sometimes, I am ashamed to be called an American. Who does our government think we are? We are one of the youngest countries out there, literally. Why do we feel the need to shove our ideologies down the throats of other countries? Oh wait, we did that when we took the land over from the Native Americans. I forgot. Silly me. I guess this means I should join Al-Qaeda. That was completely sarcastic, by the way.

So the US did this thing to countries that are mostly Islamic in belief. Can you not see how there would be Muslims out there who would burn the American flag? They did that to us. Now, we do it to them. Do two wrongs make a right?

You know what I see? A cycle of hatred, fear, and misunderstanding. I don't condone the actions of either side. I guess you could call me a peace-loving-hippie-freak. I don't condone violence of any kind. I also don't condone hatred. I don't think any of it is helpful or useful in any way.

Like I said, I don't pretend to know everything. I only know what's in my heart. My heart tells me it's wrong to judge all Muslims because of Al-Qaeda. My heart tells me these wars are wrong. Maybe this post is way off base. Maybe we all are.

That's all I have to say about that.

Hmm, where to begin??

Yesterday my boss gave me a stack of papers about 5 inches thick and I need to investigate everything by Wednesday. Whaaat. So I stayed half an hour late yesterday. What? I wanted to take a nap before going to the bar!!

Which, I did.

I slept for about an hour before going to going to the bar. I caught the last hour of happy hour, two-fers!! Yay. And I had some wings, delishisness in my mouth!! I got drunk. It started to rain. Some went inside. I did for like 10 minutes, then I joined everyone else under the umbrellas outside. Good thing I wore a hoodie... because it got soaked. And so did my pants. And you know what? I was drunk, so I didn't really care. There was a lot of craziness last night. Then I drove Katie home... after I had sobered up, of course... and the drive from her house back to mine was damn near an hour!! I got lost, and tried to bring up my GPS on my phone, but my phone was dying so it wouldn't load. But I found my way, no worries! My throat hurt last night from so much laughing and yelling at the bar. We are a loud group, that's for sure!!! Rowdy motherfuckers, lmao.

So I went in to work this morning. For 2 hours, haha. I'll stay late Monday night and Tuesday night to get everything that I need to get done. Ugh. Now, I'm going to watch the redbox movies I got last night on the way home... Date Night and The Back-Up Plan, yay!!!

Well, I'm just sitting here, waiting for the game to start. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you need your head checked.

Of course, I'm talking about the Vikings and the Saints. I fucking hate the Saints. That game last year, they had too many cheap and ILLEGAL shots at Favre that weren't called. Fuck that bullshit. We agree (myself and my cowrokers) that the NFL looked the other way because they wanted the Saints to win. That isn't true sportsmanship.

So you know what? I hope our defense fucking pummels Brees into the ground. Knock him down, break his knees. Okay, so breaking his knees might be a little much, but I think you get the point.

Yeah, there's some bitter blood here, and I can't wait to see how it plays out. No matter what, I'm still a Vikings fan, win or lose, rain or shine. <3

Yes, I curse. A lot. Normally, I don't show this fuckin part of me in my goddamn blog posts.

But trust me, it's there. In hiding. Waiting to creep the fuck out and scare you so bad you shit your pants. All of sudden, you could be giving me some shit, and BAM, I call you a fuckin cocksucker motherfucker. Or some such thing. I don't fuckin know.

You know, it's not MY goddamn fault I talk this way. Really. You can blame my father. He talks like a sailor. My grandpa will be like, "Do you have to talk that way?" My dad will reply, "What the fuck you talkin about?" or "fuckshitgoddamnit." Yeah, my macbook doesn't like that fuckin word, fuckshitgoddamnit.

Well, it can go fuck itself.

Have you ever heard the word fuck so much in you're fuckin life? I didn't think so.

Just kidding. You probably have. If you're offended by this fuckin post, guess what?

I don't really fuckin care.

Does this make me sound uneducated? Hmm. When I get pissed, I curse. Good thing I work in a warehouse, on the dock. In the office, this kind of shit would be unacceptable. Gawd.

What the fuck.

Well that's fuckin classy. I'll have to buy that shirt sometime. What the fuck do you think?

I'm not Mr. Lebowski. YOU'RE Mr. Lebowski. I'm the Dude. So that's what you call me.

Fuck you. I am NOT cat.

Omg, you talk just like me! That's fuckin awesome.

No, YOU chill the fuck out. Jesus fuckin Christ.

o rly? I don't even know what to say. You broked my funny. Good fuckin job.

What. The fuck. Is this?

Yeah, that's pretty much it.

Google image "fuck" sometime. I promise you'll like it.

So obviously, I've had a tough life growing up. I have trust issues. I don't trust anybody, and that spills over into other aspects of my life. Not only do I not trust people with personal things, but I don't trust politicians.

I hate politics. I despise politicians. I don't get into politics. Someone at work always says, "I don't understand that, because it affects your every day life." Yes, that's true, it does. But I don't believe what any politician says. I think that they are all corrupt and dirty. "Well choose the lesser of the two evils." Yeah, and in my opinion, there is no such thing.

I hate following politics because for one thing, everything is so convoluted. There's too much that everyone says about everything to keep up with. Person A says something, person B counters, then person A, B, A, B.... and it seems like it never ends. Then they go off in tangents. Really? Then they use words that I don't understand and phrases that are far too complicated. I read a sentence then have to check the dictionary for the meaning of every other word, read it 20 times, in varying speeds each time, re-read it, think about it, and finally understand what that one sentence is saying half an hour later. I'm not a moron, but the way these people speak is sometimes far too complicated. Can't you use normal words to say what you're saying?

Sometimes I try to follow it, but like I said, it's far too convoluted to follow. Anyway, I don't believe what any of these people say. So that's what I told Cody today... the part about not believing people about politics. Because someone could tell me one fact, then someone else tells me another fact and I don't know what to think. Or someone asks me a question and I say what I think, then someone else asks me a question that makes me question what I thought in the first place. It's too much of a mind game.

So he said that I believe in things that have no substance... nothing to back it up and no facts. I said, yeah, I guess that's accurate. He then said that I defend anyone and anything, as long as it's humanitarian. Well, I guess. I can't help that I'm a compassionate person that thinks about others.

Whatever. I'm taking a nap because my eyes are tired. I think I'm getting sick.

I've been talking a lot on the Xanga IM. Surprised? You shouldn't be. Duh, that's why I haven't been blogging much!!

Anyways. I've seen more than one person call Xanga IM awkward. I don't think it's awkward at all. I mean, really... what's the difference between that and a personal message? Besides the IM is faster? Nothing, in my opinion!! I love talking to my friends, it's frickin awesome!!

Do you think Xanga IM is awkward? Why?

Dear Mom,

You don't know this, but I intensely dislike you. In fact, I downright loathe you. Sometimes, I even hate you. How can I hate you and love you at the same time. A better question is, how can I love you? Just because you birthed me? Is that enough?

I can't stand how you treat your family and the people around you. You've obviously never grown up. Yes, you had a shitty childhood. You lost a baby when you were 15. You've had it rough. But once you grew into adulthood, you had the freedom to make your own choices. And you made the wrong ones. Continuously. But just because you made all the wrong choices and kept going in the wrong direction gives you license to treat people the way you do?

Because of you and your choices, my sisters and I are not okay. Do you care about that? Do you ever think about it? Do you know that it's your fault? That it's your fault we were/are all cutters? That we damaged our skin to try and rid ourselves of the pain you've caused? Because you hate yourself, you have to destroy us? Will you be happy when we are the ones who are alcoholics? Do you feel guilt?

Sometimes, I remember the good times. They used to happen more. Now, they are rare. Not so precious a gem, if the person it's coming from no longer matters to me.

No longer can you hurt me. I am my own person, and I want nothing to do with you. When Taylor is finally out of your horrid house, I will tell you all of these things, and how much you disgust me. And then, I wish to never speak to you again.

Remember that beautiful, nice, big house we lived in when I was in high school? At first, people teased me because it was the most expensive house in town. But they didn't know what happened in those walls, did they? Not until word spread through the small town; about the whore of a mother I had. One who did drugs and neglected her children. No, things aren't as they seem, are they? You remind me of Faye Dunaway in Mommy Dearest. But that house. My step father called that house The House of Sorrow. But that's not true, is it? Every single house you've lived in has been a House of Sorrow. Because, of the simple fact, that you are the one that lives there. You bring hatred and darkness wherever you are. You are vile. I am not sorry for saying these things. I am not sorry for saying the truth. One time I screamed at you, "If we were so happy, then how come I can't remember it?!" Truth. It hurts, doesn't it?

Oh, but you don't accept truth. No. You live in a world of denial, don't you? I figured this out long ago. And I will never understand it. How can you twist the truth of yourself into something that isn't real? How can you not see yourself and your actions and words as others see them?

Well, I don't really care. Because I am done with you. I wash my hands of you. It's taken me 24 years to figure out that you mean nothing to me.

You can't hurt me anymore.

-Crystal

I've posted about my various eating disorders before. It's no surprise. But I haven't explained in detail my recent ana tale.

It's true I am a fatass. You can't tell me otherwise, because you are wrong. Evidence:

In the past I've I've had issues with not eating. One summer I hate barely an apple a day for a week. That was the summer my mom kept calling me fat. I was about 11. I think.

My mom started calling my sister fat a few years ago. Taylor was not fat. She was a little chubby, but she was a kid...like 12 and 13. So then my sister started throwing up. "But mom does it." Then she started not eating. The kids at school teased her for being "fat." She started excessively exercising. And not eating as much as she should. She's obsessed with eating salads and she doesn't eat red meat.

I never went through this like my sister did, because she lived with my mom. I didn't back then, and haven't been. But still, I've gone through my phases of not eating.

And again, now. Ever since I hit puberty I've been a huge, ginormous gelatinous mass of disgustingness. You're not going to change my mind on this. Stop lying to me and tell me the truth. Okay, I'm sort of pretty... maybe even beautiful to some. But being relatively pretty doesn't mean anything if there's a giant chunk of mass attached. How can I feel beautiful when I'm ginormous? I can't. Fuck losing weight the "healthy" way. It doesn't work for me. The only time I've lost weight is when I barely eat. I despise my body. It's not beautiful. It's fucking disgusting.

I won't be happy with it until I'm thin. I like being lightheaded, feeling like I'm about to pass out. Sometimes the hunger is too much to bear. When I get dizzy from lack of food I know that I'm winning. But I won't be victorious unless I look like these girls:

When social services came to my mom's last weekend, my mom got all defensive and started spouting off on every thing that's wrong with my sister. "She has eating disorders and everything else." Fuck you, mom. It's YOUR fault.

So go ahead and flame me. Tell me I'm wrong. You're not going to change my mind. I would rather die by starving myself than be a tub of lard. I'm lightheaded right now, and I'm not going to eat.