Rinse Cycle

The buzzer goes off. I approach all my clothes left in the sink, all limp, dripping wet. My mom must have put them there, having to use the washer for her own clothes. I pick up a sock but before throwing into the dyer, I pause. I review each seam and piece of cloth. I turn the sock over and over. But on the last turn I find a sentence smeared on the bottom. I blink a couple times, rub my eyes but the sentence is real. It reads:

“Why can’t I do both?”

“How odd” I think. Bewildered, I reach in for it’s pair which has written on it:

“Where to?” and “Do I have to decide?”

“Interesting” I think. I then move through the pile to come upon a pair of jeans. They’re old and worn, but the most comfortable to wear. Around the ankles are two sentences:

“Who does he think he is?”
and
“Hold me.”

I give an exasperated sigh and throw them into the dryer. I then pick up five shirts. This time one word is smudged on each of their backs.

“who” “will” “love” “me” “today?”

I then pick up my school jacket, only to find the word:

“Me”

I giggle as I throw all of these into the black cylinder hole. I then pick up a pair of dance pants.

“Overused”

After that, I pick up the tights. They seemed familiar yet from a distant dream. As I run my hands over their threads the sounds of crickets and the smell of must and sweat come to my mind. I then find the words:

“Use me”

I throw them in the washer and I shake my head as I reach for my cup of tea on the edge of the washer. I go to take a swig, but it’s empty. I give a half smile and go back to my wash. There’s only one thing left in the pile now, it’s rolled up into a ball. I venture further, slowly uncoiling each layer. It’s my favorite sweatshirt. I smile remembering the warmth I felt when it was worn. I turn it over and on the back are 2 simple words:

“Wake up”

Perplexed by such an odd ending to my laundry’s story, I crumple the sweatshirt back up, throw it in the dryer. I pause for a few seconds












But then quickly shake away the thoughts.


I press start.

A Bit of Gin Can Go a Long Way

This is a sign with the 2 pictures. One of a older man and a younger man drinking with domino looking chips around them. The second is of the younger one getting busted by a cop. Though this sign is hard to see because of the lighting, let me just explain to you it's story and ultimately it's lesson.

Story:
You're a young kid, probably senior in high school. And one night, because you're a complete loser, you're left to hang out with your dad on your weekend night. Since someone seems to have taken the batteries out of your 10 year old SIMON, both you and your dad decide to play a few rounds of Gin Rummy. Ultimately one thing leads to another and you end up playing kings on your nicely furnished basement carpet. Then, all of a sudden, you reach for some more pretzels within your chex mix when you realize you ran completely out. Your father, being the man who could never hold his drink (especially after Crazy Aunt Jeans visit/gift last thanksgiving) throws the car keys in your general direction or maybe just near the stairs (you're going that way anyway) so that you can take the car out and pick some more up. You pull out of your driveway, take a left at the light, and eventually as your driving progressively gets worse, you get pulled over by a cop. The cop arrests you for drinking and driving and your mom awkwardly picks you up from the station worried sick a) where her husband was since he was supposed to be with you and b) how her son got the car keys since he was banned from driving the dodge caravan because of the freak wild turkey collision on the forth of July. Ultimately you get grounded for life for getting drinking in the first place as well as other various government penalties that you never remembered from your permit test. Oh, and your dad never remembered to get new batteries for your SIMON.

Lesson:
Never mix Gin Rummy and alcohol unless under the supervision of the mother of the household.

A Little Slice of Awkward

Today was tedious but it needed to happen. I knew it, from the moment I saw you walking down the hallway. Though I tried to approach the problem with grace and ease, your reaction tipped my scales. I thought that I had lost you. Automatically, emotions steamed and thoughts became worries, but as the day progressed, I realized that you. are. amazing! So things we're a little awkward but, you know what? You are my best friend and I will never forget that. And, though you may never read this, I know that I must acknowledge that you are a true friend and I am truly thankful.

I love you.

Tis The Season

Winter. It’s sensational. It’s a season of warm fires, snow covered hills, close nit relations, and gift giving. But, some how, for me, these “sensational” things get lost in the mail along with Aunt Jeans socks and Grandma’s candy calendar.

Every winter it is the same thing. The season of giving, and happiness becomes a season of cold darkness, depression, and tears. In winter I feel utterly and completely alone. I’m left in the darkness at 6:30pm to think about my life and what I am doing. I’m suddenly alone with Kelly Clarkson and the lowest points in my life poping into my chilled head. First thing I look at is the most obvious: my love life or maybe lack there of. It’s so stereotypical of a girl to automatically think of her love life when left alone with love ridden music. To me it’s sickening. I hate it and yet I do it every year. Every winter I get upset by the fact that I don’t have a boyfriend. Why should it matter? Either way I am the same person. And it’s not that I am jealous of some people. I’m fine with the fact that people have a significant others and yet I just wish I had one too.

I don’t really know why I view my love life within the winter. Some how my focus lands not on school work but on my lacking relationships with men. I then begin to go over the equation. I see that I am a wonderful person who has a great personality, is down to earth, cute, and willing to give her heart to anyone who wishes. And yet, I have no one. There is a flaw somewhere in my calculations but I can’t seem to find it. I then begin to look for solutions to my problem. I cut my hair, I start dressing nicely, I try the make-up thing for a day. But everyday I come home with the same empty hands and saddened look. It is then that the cycle begins… What’s wrong with me? Nothing is wrong with me. You shouldn’t let the boys determine the fact that there is. But then why don’t I have one? It’s a continuous and hellish cycle that consists of me being depressed within a feminist mind set. I don’t know whether to give into my feelings or to resist them and be a role model. I want to be a strong woman who doesn’t need a man. But, God damn it, I want a man too.

Lets think about it shall we? Most of my relationships are friendships or crushes. I have yet to actually flirt with a guy and get the reaction I want. Now, this may be because I flirt in an almost joking way, and that’s for me to work out. But I still don’t get it. Regardless of how I am flirting. I am doing everything right, and I am yet to get results. Right now I am within a prime example: the one guy I like is oblivious to the fact that I like him. And I do mean oblivious. You think “No, I’m sure that he gets it” but this kid? No. Doesn’t see one bit of it. I could blatantly hint to the fact that I like him, and yet he ignores my sarcastic comments and moves onto other “wannamakers” in his life.

But even though everyone can see it with the exception of him, it’s alright. I just move on. I keep on living because there is nothing that I can do, really. As much as I would like to be deep and depressed for more than a day, I can’t. So I continue with my upbeat personality. Plus why would I ever want to change myself to get a man? I would never do that….


…Well hardly ever…

::edit::

things change in an instant

A Scream Through Bent Bars

You didn’t mean to
I know you were innocent

I know that you started off with good intentions and
What they call, a
                 Clear mind

But when you did what you did, I wanted to scream
I wanted to kick you and yell
                                 Shut up!
Stop holding me down
Stop pulling my sides
Stop kicking my heart

You stepped passed the line
And though I thought I was in a state of
Acceptance with this drunken reality,
I wasn’t
And this time there was no
     Trip to the moon
As my escape route

I don’t know whether it was the cloud of goodbyes
Or the hits of hello that shook me awake
But I know that, now,
I am lost
And the numbers of understanding are lacking


I know
You’re innocent
And
You meant no harm
              ….Or did you?


Just
Give me the key to this ball and chain
So that I can live
What they call,
                A life

Maybe I should just delete my Xanga

Le Bec Hell Week

Les Entrees

Esprit frit
Mind served on a large plate, steamed in confusion, stress, and lack of sleep. Then Fried to perfection in Rec juice and Players love.

Soup Du Jour
Anything the day brings.

Les Plats Principaux

Coeur Bourré
Heart filled with stage fright, dance steps, artistic license, and the Chefs specialty MIS MIS GEH

L'homme de théâtre Bu
Thespian saturated in alcohol. Served with pretzels, water, and steaming sexual urge.

Les Desserts

La gueule de bois de Souvenir
Artist hung for 3 hours with a red sauce containing hugs, fresh tears, and essence of sharpie.

The One Thing That Will Bridge the Gap Between My Xanga and My Blog

1. Open
2. Apparently, I look really different...
3. Set
   
4. Sharpies and resume paper anyone?
   
5. Knobs and screws
   
6. Hitting Snapples
   
7. Wreath
8. Squirting brown liquid
   
9. Waiting for it to spontaneously combust
   
10. Frapaccino in the winter?
11. You want a brownie?
12. Record time and cider that burnt my tongue.
13. Where's the stand?
    
14. mmmmm
15. "Once I read this passage, I stood back, stunned by the complexities of the sentences and the word choice which was heavily blanketing the image to the point of no visibility."
16. "Honkage"
17. "A plethora of dense images and metaphors were strung throughout this beautiful description, allowing me to see the boat as a devil steaming black smoke and thrashing through the water as if in a tempest."
18. "He described a large, lush oasis, filled to the rim with beautiful creatures and plants, as a chaotic yet empty and silent desert."
    
19. Persuasion
20. Close

Stench of Silence

Humorous isn’t it?
I say something through a laugh 
And you take it as a joke.

Oh yes, It reeks of humor.

I try
Try to say it 
But all I get is a hug and smile. 

It means more
Much more than it sounds 
But my mouth won’t put it into clearer terms
And it gets lost
In the borderline which blocks our connection 

Suddenly, words of importance are
              Meaningless
Exhaustion, steaming from their 
                             Overuse

I step back from their fumes 
And grin at my attempts
Which cover its hidden layers
The truth wreaking what cannot be said

And it is then, I notice
               my pitied silence