People are so fucking stupid I wanna rip their heads off.

They’re spouting off about this Four Loko drink.

Pull your head out of your ass.

It’s only dangerous if you don’t know how to drink, and don’t know when to stop when you’re at your limit. If even one can is too much for you to handle, split it with someone, and don’t mix alcohols.

Also, the company that makes them said that they sell the drink with a lower alcohol content.

As for the alcohol/energy drink combination, it’s like shots. Like jage bombs and Chuck Norris’s. I’ve never had a Chuck Norris, but I fucking love jage bombs. I actually prefer the green Monster instead of red bull…. but that might have a different name then, I don’t know. I used to take shot after shot of jage bombs!! Plus, I’m sure there are more shots that combine energy drinks and alcohol.

I might have to go out Saturday night… not sure.

Haha. I had to laugh. Cody was trying to tell me today that he could out-blog me. By getting more comments and getting higher on top blogs.

Well, you can’t get higher than number one, baby!! Which, I’ve been at, more than once.

He said in order for it to be fair it would have to be a new blog, with a new screen name. HAHA. I would STILL win!!

I know how to market myself and my blog…. which he probably knows nothing about. I would be interested to try that challenge, because this is something I know I would win at. Bahahaha.

I just found that amusing

I guess you could say she never really knew what love was. She never felt it emulating from anyone. Everything was always dead; cold. Blank screens and eyes and nothing that ever really mattered. She was cracked and torn. Bruised and battered. A young woman, standing alone, always surrounded. They stared and touched, crowded. But she only suffocated from their skin deep interest. She only knew what it felt like to never breathe. Shattering rasps and gasping words.

She floated through, never touching. Her dead eyes saw through souls that only passed by. Never stopping. Time had no meaning there and here. She only hurt herself to know she wasn’t dreaming. Dreams filled with dark and decay and screams and blackness and fear. Fear. She only felt it vicariously through her dreams. Her waking dreams. They were always searching. Never finding. No peace. No solace. No rest.

She found herself on an island. Deserted desert sand. Forsaken thoughts stranded her here. She couldn’t find her way back to nothing. That’s all it ever was. It was black and white and gray.

She looked around. The colors were bright. When had she gotten here? She felt saved. When had she awoken? She felt things. Pins and needles on her skin and sharp steel penetrating her thoughts. Black and white and gray and red were gone. She was okay. She wasn’t running. She wasn’t dreaming. She just was. But the questions remained.

Where had the darkness gone? Was it hiding? Waiting for her?

Trepidation.

Seriously. People have no respect. Zero.

I HATE GOING TO WALMART.

Well, I guess I hate people in general. Why do people have no consideration for others? I don’t get it. People cut you off when you’re walking, they stop dead in their tracks right in front of you….. I get so fucking pissed I just want to ram my cart right into their fucking ankles!!!!! “OH! I’m sorry!! I didn’t see you STOP RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!!!!” Or, just side swipe someone who comes out full boar from an aisle without even looking. “OHMIGAWD, I’m SO sorry!! I didn’t see you just cut me off!!”

Yeah you can laugh, but you know I’m right and I should tell you that I really think I would feel better if I could kung fu their fucking heads right off. Every last one of them.

Not even kidding.

I’m still on Xanga Break, but I just had to vent about this!!!!

Yesterday afternoon I had a meeting with the boss and some other people. After the meeting, my supervisor and the boss were chatting. She has some pencils with quotes on them on her desk. They say things like “Today will be a good day.” She asked me if I wanted a pencil, and gestured to the pencils.

I told her she has to give me one, otherwise it won’t be good luck. So she grabs them and reads them. Hands me a pink one. It says, “You will be famous.” I asked her what she thinks I will be famous for, with a smile. She said, “For writing a book.”

I have never shared any of my fiction writing with her, she’s only seen the emails I write. She was serious about her statement, and believed it. I argued a little, saying I would probably write some books, but I would never be famous. That most writers aren’t famous. She started listing names like J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, Dan Brown, and Danielle Steel. I told her those are the exceptions.

She said, “You’ll be famous.”

I had an argument with Cody today. We were talking about bullying gay kids. And suicide.

He thinks that it’s their fault they kill themselves. He said that people have the power to change things. I told him that you can’t talk about it with authority unless you’ve experienced it. He said that he’s seen it first hand.

Well, bravo. Good for you. Seeing something and feeling it are two very, very different things.

Unless you’ve felt how it is to be suicidal, you can’t talk about it like you know what it’s all about. He made it sound like it’s so easy to just change the way you think.

It’s not easy.

When you experience such a deep, dark despair, it’s like a vortex of nothing. It’s absolutely terrifying. Unless you’ve been there, you can’t just say someone needs to change it. It’s like outer space, with no stars and no planets. It’s just….nothing. It’s a void of everything. There’s either no feeling, or way too much. Sometimes it bounces between nothing and everything.

He says suicide doesn’t solve YOUR problems.

Well, that’s not how suicidal people think. They feel like they are a burden to everyone around them. They truly believe that everyone will benefit from their death. They wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore. Wouldn’t have to deal with the mood swings. With being depressed. We who are depressed, we know that we are a burden to those around us. That we drag others down into our pit of blackness. We feel there is absolutely no hope for people like us. That nothing will ever be okay. We don’t believe people who tell us differently. Then those people get tired of trying to help us, and they leave. Everyone leaves the terminally depressed.

Being darkly depressed was more terrifying than fearing for my life when I lived with my mother. The absence of all feelings was horrifying. Sometimes I would surface from this fog and become afraid for myself. Then I would sink again. When you feel dead already, what’s wrong with murdering your skin and bones? When you feel dead inside, your spirit and soul, it’s all you think about. Why are you even here, when you feel nothing? You aren’t happy, you aren’t sad. You aren’t anything. You just…. aren’t. It’s like you shouldn’t exist.

I don’t even know how I got better. I don’t remember. I don’t know when I got out of that dark depression. I fear it coming back. I still have very little hope for myself. I dream about marrying a wonderful man and having kids, a family. But I don’t think it will ever happen. People tell me I’m still young. When does still being young STOP being young?

Anyway. Unless you know how it feels to be suicidal, you can’t talk about it like you know it. People who say it’s their own fault for killing themselves piss me off. It’s something darker than you can even comprehend.

THE GAME

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So basically all week, I’ve posted one quick update, visited a few blogs, then left. Sometimes when I wanted to cruise xanga, it was down.

So here’s what I’ve been doing:

I’ve been cross stitching a tiger. I started this like 2 years ago, and never finished it. Well, I’m here to tell you, that is going to change. I’m going to finish this tiger this year. I’ve only finished one cross stitching project ever, and that was for my dad’s 39th birthday gift years ago. So that’s what’s been stealing my attention. It’s impossible to cross stitch and troll xanga at the same time =[

I've also been watching Lost as I'm cross stitching. I never saw the last 2 seasons, so I'm starting all over. I finished watching the first season yesterday and started the bonus features. Today I think I will start season 2.

Anyway, the above picture was earlier this week, this is what it looks like now:

And this is what it will look like when it's done:

So I hope all you crazy xangans are well, and I will talk to you later =]

Oh, and here’s a picture of the cheesecake from the nice restaurant I went to a few weeks ago or so:

What’s so appealing about the bad guy?

I don’t really know. I think it’s a lot of things that attract me to the bad guy. I’m talking about in movies and TV shows.

They’re always so hot. Well, not always, but a lot of the time. I love the air of danger and violence. But why does the bad guy act like he does? It’s always a tough-guy exterior to protect his fragile heart, I think.

The most recent bad guy I’ve fallen in love with is Damon Salvatore in The Vampire Diaries. If you don’t watch that show, you should. Ian Somerhalder in that role is so amazing. I wanna rip his clothes off… like nao.

Anyway. I think I’m going to join a gym so I can start working out. I need to. For real. I don’t know the best place to go for cheap.

And I don’t like being on friends lock. It’s so limiting. Oh well.

I’m kind of mad because I bought some red hair dye, but I didn’t read the box. It said something about not being recommended for hair that’s already been dyed black or dark brown, which mine was. So you can’t tell it’s red. I have to see it in the sun to see how it looks =[

I’ve been on a country kick today. I haven’t listened to it in so long, I don’t know any of the “new” songs.

I have to work tomorrow. My managers are being very demanding right now with this new job. *sigh*

I hope you are all well. I’m sorry I haven’t been reading you =[