Such is my wandering nature that I'm unable to stay at one blog host for very long.  The times are inviting me to move along  but as it stands, I have around 300 tBucks if anyone is interested leave a comment and I'll attempt to figure out how to send them.

If only you could boycott the weather.  As a state, as a nation, as a world with one voice screaming, “We’ll not take the sudden shifts in temperatures any longer!  From this day forth, the temperature will gradually change from cold to hot and back again giving our bodies a change to cope, damn you weather!”

Friday it was in the 60’s and today it was in the high 80’s but due to the 94% humidity it felt like it was in the 90’s.  I can handle the heat, I’m generally okay with humidity but not when it all changes so quickly.  I was forced into doing yard work today for a couple hours and I haven’t had the energy to move beyond one room at a time for the past six hours.  The heat was taxing my energy resources something fierce.

Amazingly, I believe I’ve consumed enough ice tea in the past fifteen hours to pee every hour, on the hour, for the next 20 years of my life.  Ice tea, I love it…I think it’s an actual requirement since I grew up in the south to start making and drinking it nonstop from June until the end of August.  To be honestly, I come from an odd family who’ve spent vacations searching for the best ice tea in Vacation Land.  Once we find the best place we sort of hover around it, stopping in every so often for some refreshing tea. 

I’m one of those people who love really sweet tea but have stopped buying real sugar.  Using Splenda(!) isn’t bad except I have to use a ton of it to equal the normal sugar to tea ratio.  The weird thing about Splenda(!) is that it dissolves on its own in this really freaky way so it look like beer foam only not so hopsy or yeasty.

Speaking of beer, it’s lost it’s appeal to me.  Once upon a time, I could shotgun, power hour, and just sip with the best of them but not so much now at all.  The smell of beer makes me want hurl and I believe it’s directly related one New Years where I mixed every alcoholic substance imaginable.  Champagne?  Done.  Beer?  Done.  Vodka?  Done.  Everclear?  Done and done!

  I still can’t remember most events during that night, I just have these random flashbacks were everyone is talking but it’s beyond my level of comprehension.  I also remember staring at an “Uptown Girls” calendar taking note as it weaved in and out of focus.  And then, there’s the epitome of my drunkenness when I puked in a cup held out by someone else.  I actually remember that clearly because there was a long line for both bathrooms, I was in the hall completely ready to open some random door and puke on whatever lay behind door # 1.  I sincerely hope the apartment owners never underestimate the power of a red plastic cup.

What is it about drinking and smoking that makes them so linked; it’s like you can’t have one without the other.  In my case, I think it’s because I generally hate both so much that it only makes sense to abuse my body equally at the same time. 

The next morning, you’re laying on the bed/floor/couch/washing machine deciding if it’s time to pay homage to the porcelain thrown, beat the Nordic dwarf named Gylfe, with the war hammer, down to a slight tremor, or attempt to speak around the dirty sock lodge in your mouth.  Puking will equal hours of puking ahead of you, performing the smack down on Gylfe equals moving and the possibility of setting him on a war path of death so you’re left calling out to see what others survived your torrid night of stupidity and debauchery.  Behold your voice is not your own!  Somewhere between the night before and the waking life your voice underwent a grave transformation.  Long gone are the days of a clear, unaccented voice and replaced is a raspy, heavily southern accented voice.  Automatically you think, ‘Score!  My voice is raspy like Demi Moore’s.  That’s hot,’ while in reality you sound like lesbian marrying Thelma from the Simpsons.  Not so hot, especially because soon you begin to think about her hairy legs and suddenly the possibility of angering Gylfe into giving you death blows via his war hammer doesn’t seem like such a bad thing after all.   

As I said before, I’m not by a nature a smoker but easily smoke over a pack during a night of drinking.  It just makes sense to smoke when drinking since it’s social and because you can’t feel that happy burning sensation in your lungs.  Smoking is such a bad idea and I generally stay away from it until I think of a quote from an Ayn Rand book, Atlas Shrugged:

"I like to think of fire held in a man's hand.  Fire, a dangerous force, tamed at his fingertips.  I often wonder about the hours when a man sits alone, watching the smoke of a cigarette, thinking.  I wonder what great things have come from such hours.  When a man thinks, there is a spot of fire alive in his mind--and it is proper that he should have the burning point of a cigarette as his one expression."

Lungs of fire just make sense after awhile and alcohol.

Because I'm bored and searching through my online photo album phooey, here's some pictures.

This is Ebony who belongs to my parents via my sister rocking his feed me turkey face:

This is my kitty Lily, and this isn't the greatest picture because her top lip looks downsy from where I scanned it in.  Still, though, I love.

Now, this is Dossie, who is my sister's cat, only I'm stuck with her until big sis moves out of her current apartment into one that allows cats.  Dossie is a really beautiful cat but she's so stupid...as you can see in the picture, she's wrapped a plastic bag around her neck.

I just like this shot that was taken while driving.  Taking a picture while driving seems like an great ideal because you can always look through the LCD screen but it's actually fairly hard if you care to not run off the road.

Now, this was something I drew during a class because I couldn't find the right words to express my feelings towards someone.  I believe it ended up embarrassing them which was never my intent; I was bored in class and thought 'might as well give it a whirl.'

Here's my dog being an Action Poodle from today:

Here's one showing off my greed at an early age.  The reflection is the table is oh so evil:

This just makes me laugh.  My sister (right side) looks like she's getting to bite someone in the jugglar while I look like a coked out gangster completely with crazed facial expression and hardcore hand signs:

Have I explain thy massive love to thee for The Go! Team’s, Thunder Lightning Strike?  It’s magnitude is vast in all its splendor.  What the fuck am I saying?  Basically, it’s a really good album: it brings me joy; I dig it in a major way at the right times; i.e., when driving.  It’s fun, loud, upbeat…the vibe on most of the songs reminds me of “Hollaback Girl” only this was released six + months before Gwen started to cash in [exploit] Horoshko street style.  Personally, I can’t stand the style of dress…I’m so uncool but I just can’t back looking a fool in unflattering colors.  Neon colors should only be used as CRAYONS!

    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   What was it about the late 80’s, early 90’s that gave way to such ugly colors?  I remember you were no one unless you had the neon colored crayons and had some L.A. Lights tennis shoes.  The lights never lasted long; they were only cool for the actual blinking light effect so one was fairly busted after they disappeared like the lightening bugs in autumn.  I remember when I was seven, back in the summer of ’91, I had this bright blue shirt that I used to pair with hot pink pants—yeah, I was a kaleidoscope of clashing colors but to me, it was perfection.  On a side note, I can spell kaleidoscope with ease and yet ‘autumn’ took me 30 seconds to figure out.  Dismal.

    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   I have since switched my music from The Go! Team to The Mountain Goats; two completely different genres but both King Shit of Fuck Mountain in their own way.  Let it be known, I think “Everyone’s a V.I.P. to Someone” by The Go! Team is awesome.  It could be that I just really love the title and let it overshadow everything else.  I’m only human and thus susceptible to snazzy wordplay, but probably, more so than the average person. 

Currently I’ve got the Mountain Goats latest CD, The Sunset Tree playing; it’s about growing up with an abusive stepfather, which I totally can’t identify with since my parents are still married going on 25 years, and my father wasn’t abusive.  All lack of personal understanding aside, I rather enjoy it.  Towards the end of “Broom People” there’s a lyric that goes “I am a babbling brook,” and every time I hear that, I think ‘wow, that’s a lovely line.’  Wouldn’t it be pleasant to be a babbling brook?  Is that a completely random/weird thing to zero in on?  The imagery of little consistent ripples in a current with the only change being whatever got caught in the water along the way is rather attractive in a calm, soothing sort of way.  Such is the danger of water, you know.

Everyone who reads this probably thinks I’m the most self-obsessed person ever but I do actually read the news more than I let on.  I’m just not big on giving my opinion because I have an extremely hard time staying focused on the objective.  This is one of the [many] reasons I hate writing papers when I have to choose a side because I identify in small ways with both.  Back to news: apparently in Sweden, I believe, they preformed a test on gay men to see if they were more attracted to female pheromones or male pheromones, thus proving homosexuality is a naturally occurring, preordained state of being, all the gay men were hopped up on male pheromones.  I thought it was interesting as I’ve always contemplated, in males more so than females, they were born gay.  I do think some lesbians are born that way but some lean more to women based on traumatic events ending with negative connotations of males or because they find a certain type of companionship lacking with dudes.

I know this sounds really naive and young but I hope as a country and world we’ll get to the point where homosexuals have the same rights as heterosexuals.  I don’t understand why they aren’t given the right to marry, adopt children easily, share health insurance, etc. If people want to look at their lifestyles as immoral go for it but please understand it’s just as immoral to deny them basic human rights.  It’s immoral to quote bible scripture without giving thought or knowing those you’re quoting against.  I just don’t understand it, nor do I understand how people can stand by and allow it to happen.  C’mon politicians you’re supposed to be the voice of the people so stand up and fight. 

I find it interesting how the same people can go on about how wrong it was to treat those in ethnic groups, mostly blacks, as second class citizens but it’s perfectly acceptable to treat homosexuals in such a manner.  In 50 years when the toleration of homosexuals has increased, who will be the new group we seek to isolate?  Will the streets of L.A. teams with racism towards Mexicans again?  I somehow doubt it as they just elected its first Mexican mayor.  Yay!

I sincerely hope the Consitution isn’t more than a showpiece for the U.S.; I thought it meant something more; that it was supposed to protect people’s natural rights including the pursuit of happiness.  Call me crazy, but I was taught from elementary school to present day that the Consitution was installed to protect everyone’s right; it was installed to protect the minority from the majority; it was installed to give all an equal voice in legislation.  Sadly most people are unable to see beyond what they’ve always known.

And finally, I’ll end the night and long-ass rant by listening to Sea Change, by Beck.    

It’s amazing how much of the past seven years is tied up in music.  I found a CD mix a friend gave me before we left for college that I foolishly play in my car.  Damn, I was crying so hard it was embarrassing.  It was so weird to remember what I was feeling at the time, all the excitement at this new plane of existence with underlying feelings of ‘is this it?’ and fear. 

The astonishing thing about college, for me, was that I went in knowing exactly want I wanted, I’d know since I was four.  Imagine my surprise to find out what I’d been working for all those years wasn’t something I was willing to bust ass for anymore.  The ever ominous "they" never tell you how much it’s going to hurt when you realize the things you want, the things you’ve worked for all this time, aren’t really what you want; not a even little bit, not even at all. 

Baby, it hurts like hell and not even on a singular level, it’s like you’ve let the whole damn world, or at least your whole damn world, down.  It’s bad enough when you disappoint yourself but disappointing your loved ones, or the feeling that you are, is the worst thing to ever face. 

But hey, I get by with a little help from my friends.

I don’t know what to do about anything.  For the past four years of college I’ve been meaninglessly going just to go but it’s not what I want anymore.  I’d love to do photography, it’s something I’ve just recently gotten into, so much so that I’ve actually made the effort to check out a school in Santa Barbara, California and now must wait for them to get back to me.  I could switch my major a fifth time to photography at JMU (James Madison University) but I’m not really feeling going there anymore…I haven’t been feeling it for a long time actually but it’s like, what the hell else am I supposed to go other than go to school?  Yeah, I could get a job (and I did get one) but it’s not going to be in anything I’d want to peruse for a lifetime.  It’s like, all your life going to college is drilled into you from home, school, friends, and society: higher education is the way, the only way.  Yes, I could get my masters in photography which I’m considering so I could teach at some university. 

I’d be an awesome teacher…once I took a Xanx to get past my fear of public speaking.  Actually, students would probably hate me at the time but given maturity and distance, they’d realize I was pushing them to be the best they could be.  This is probably why I shouldn’t have kids…I’d probably pressure them too much and they’d end up either hating me or having a nervous breakdown by the age of 16, probably both. 

    & nbsp;   &n bsp;    The thing that prompted me to write this was the fact that I was walking about the aimlessly, I have a paper I should write but I just don’t care about it right now; I have a test I should study for but why bother when I know I’ll pass?  I could read for fun because that’s something I’ve always enjoyed doing but it’s like everything I read leaves me with a great sense of ennui, I never feel fulfilled which is what I’m going for.  Transport me to another time, another place, where I don’t have to be me.

     & nbsp;   &n bsp;  I don’t know what’s wrong with me, perhaps it’s the end of the summer in reverse, you know, when your friends pack up their belongings and leave?  Everyone, but me, it seems is graduating next month and I don’t know what to do.  I just don’t know what to do.  Beth is going off to Europe, perhaps landing an internship in Paris which makes me so happy for her but at the same time I’m sad that I can’t go with her.  I would be able to if not for another friend who would’ve flipped a bitch since Beth’s parents wanted me to go with them.  Does anyone realize how much that sucks?  How much that makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry?  Fucked over because another friend wouldn’t be able to handle the fact that her parents think I’m a better influence.

    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   Said friend is getting married in October and wants me to be the photographer, to which I said yes, without any intention of following through.  I mean I can’t do it.  I’m not trained to, I don’t have the equipment, plus I want to be a guest at her wedding and have fun.  What I’m going to try and do is find a reasonably priced professional photographer to take the formal wedding shots and hopefully talk her into buying two or three disposable cameras for each table.  Yeah sure, that can lead to some goofy pictures of people’s asscracks, especially with this group, but it’ll be funny…in theory. 

    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   Perhaps a lot of my mood as to do with being flat broke.  You think I’m being overdramatic?  Yeah I have $5.00 in my bank account and only half a tank of gas in my car.  I also am having eye problems, I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been wisely wearing my disposable contacts for the past two months or what…all I know is that an hour after I put them in, my left eye gets dried out and fuzzy.  I hate the eye doctor, more than even my gynocologist.  Last time I went to the eye docture dude, it TWO HOURS to get check out which is absurd but I have to go because my prescription ran out and I think my eyes have gotten a bit worse in the past six months.  Isn’t that evil?  I didn’t even have a problem until I was 17.

    & nbsp;   &n bsp;   I apologize that about this being so long and whiny but I just need to vent.  I’m not a sharer of problems to friends and family because for whatever reason, I’m highly opposed to it.  Perhaps it’s yet another contradiction of personality in that I’m more comfortable writing things that no one who knows me will ever read rather than just talking to them about it.  I don’t know, if you haven’t figured out by now, I’m vaguely screwed up.

I paced myself and it wasn't so bad, even though I had to run for an hour to reach my normal amount of calories lost. I'm just glad I was able to do it for once.  The really weird thing about it, was that I had a lot more energy at the end, you know, I didn't feel like I could barely walk or had to puke which is a very uncommon feeling for me.  I sort of like that feeling, it makes me feel like I've accomplished something through sheer will.  Mind over matter...I guess I'm just a pusher when it comes to my own body...or else a freak when it comes to my own body.

I am not a pacer.  Nope, not in the least.  You’d think I’d have figured this out after, God, 8 years of running but no, I’m only fast on my legs rather than my brain.  I went to the gym tonight and jumped on the treadmill, while a woman was running beside me.  Because I’m insanely curious, I looked over to see how long she’d been on.  Lady-woman had been running for 40 minutes and ran under three miles.  That causes me to be way perplexed and wrinkle my brow.  That’s not good, I don’t want botox injections!  Needles are scary, it’s why I’ll never try heroin.  

Why on Earth would you run twice as long as you have to and end up burning less calories than you might going faster and at an incline?  Does that make sense to anyone else?  Push yourselves dammit!  Make yourself go harder, faster, than before.  Make goals and reach them!  It’s a great feeling when you break your personal best.  Perhaps that’s the competitive asshole athlete in me coming out?

Lady-woman ended up running for an hour and only burned 450 calories while I ran for 40 minutes and burned twice as much.  I just don’t get that whole ‘jogging’ thing.  Is this the American in me coming out?  I can’t take time to enjoy anything; life is but one time unit bleeding into the next until it’s time to sleep and start all over again?  I don’t want to be that person who lives to exist until the next day and the day after that.  I’m fun…ish….sometimes…Now I feel weepy and depressed but I still don’t think I’ll be able to slow down when I run again tomorrow.

I just realized that I’m the same way when I drive.  I speed horribly, and most of the time it isn’t intentional because I’ll be going with the flow of traffic or my car tricked me into going 90 in a 65 by being a smooth driving bastardora.  I love my car though.  Honest to god, it’s a piece of crap that wouldn’t be able to get cross country without it breaking down but it’s mine so I love it.  Plus, the paint is starting to chip giving it less than cool duo colors.  If I lived in the L.A. area, I’d so ask West Coast Customs to Pimp My Ride…I don’t think they’d done a ’92 Buick LeSabre yet.  It could be hot.  Eh?  No?  Alright fine.

If anyone knows how to get rid of these retarded-ass double spaces between paragraphs please tell me, it’s forcing my format to annoy me.

I'm so stupid; honest to God I sweat the small stuff like body moisture's a hot commodity.  Ooooh, baby, I’ve gots to get me some of that action.

I got my mix tape person’s address; he lives in Ireland, which means I can’t use any of my UK bands.  Uh, I have a lot rearranging to do; which is cool as I’ve been on a buying music en mass and eating frenzy of late.  My appetite would put a hippo’s to shame.  Shame I say!  Shame!!!

I thought exercise was supposed to suppress your appetite?  It’s just the opposite with me.  Perhaps I’m burning too many calories or something because having to eat every two hours can’t be normal.  It could just be me PMSing or some other weird-ass hormonal thingy but I doubt it.

I hate being a girl most of the time.  Really, when you think about it, we get the raw end of the deal.  Never my lifetime will it be safe for me to hitchhike, sleep on a park bench at night, wear whatever I want without it giving off the wrong impression, travel alone, and many other things I long to do.  It’s just not fair and most guys never think about it, they only think about girls getting stuff for free because they’re cute/have nice boobs/ass/legs/or all of the above.  Looks fade, unless you have a fantastic plastic surgeon, so I really see no shame in accepting drinks from guys.  If they want to buy my drinks in the fruitless attempt to fuck me, I say go for it!  It’ll never work but you go and try with all your might to get some ass, yo.

Oh, and on Thursday I actually did get to see Phoenix and Dogs Die In Hot Cars play in D.C. because I had a test that day and got out super early.  Made it to D.C. in record time and only missed a couple of songs from Dogs Die In Hot Cars.

Another thing, I believe I'm going to hit an opossum this month as it seems every night I see one hanging out by the side of the road waiting to cross all stealthy.  Most woodland creatures don’t freak me out like oppsum, it's something about the row of teeth and their ugly heads that turns me off.

Eight years ago, my neighbor’s cat caught a baby opossum, didn’t really harm it, but it was too late in the day to take it to the wild animal shelter so she talked me into taking care of it for the night.  Oh, my, was that creepy.  As much as it scared me, it interested me so I somehow overcame my fear to play with it…until it tried to bite me while it had it’s hairless tail curled around my finger.  After than, Posse went into the cage where he stayed until the nest day.  Before the attempted snacking on my finger a la Wendy’s without the chili, I had it sitting on the back of the couch behind me enraptured with the TV. 

TV: bringing species together everywhere.

The funny thing about the neighbor is that anytime she was around anything in the baby stage of life, she’d want to name it Pint.  Yeah, sure, that’s cute when it’s all tiny but what happens when it gets bigger?  Do you start calling it Quart, Liter, Gallon, Metric Ton?  Do tell what's to become Adrian, inquiring minds burn for answers.

By the age of 21 I should be able to open the packaging on string cheese, right?  Why does it always seem I function at a lower level than normal people?  Five-year-olds can open those things!  I’m just truly pathetic and a space waster but on the bright side, I downloaded Fiona Apple’s new, never to be released CD.  Not as good as the first two, sadly, but still a worthy effort.  I feel for her; imagine how much it must suck bitter nutsack to pour your heart into a record only to have the label pull it because they don’t think it’ll be a commercial success.  Man, I miss me some skinny, pissed off, white girl angst.

I had the perfect opportunity to take a picture of the pregnant girl smoking, I even went as far to gain her permission but I wussed out at the last second.  I just couldn't exploit her nicotine addiction for my own personal gain.  Dammit! 

We got to talking, the pregnant girl and I, and her life basically sucks.  She's 20, had to move back home with her parents because her baby's daddy just got incarcerated on four counts of drug possession, one being for possession with the intent to sell while in close proximity to a school.  Uh oh, somebody's in trouble.  Plus, the dude failed all his drug tests from his parole officer.

I should strike up conversations with random people more often, seriously it's quite entertaining.  Don't you find it interesting that I can't exploit her nicotine addiction yet find immense entertainment in her personal woes?  Aren't a I a horrible person?  It never fails to amaze me the hypocrisies found within my soul.  Sometimes, I astound myself with my own shallowness.

Why do guys wear tons of cologne, especially at the gym?  I thought I was going to either,

1. Puke


2. Pass Out


3. Ask the guy to move to another machine

Dude, I understand you've got to work your triceps or biceps or whatever it is you muscle men target to bulk up like the masterful green Hulk but layoff the freaking  colog ne!  Those of us trying to do cardio can't take having the stench block our oxygen deprived lungs.  This is why I prefer running outdoors;  sadly, I took a class that required X amount of hours spent inside so I have to go.  If only they had a pool! 

1. Shout Out Louds - 100º


2. The Thrills - Saturday Night


3. Phoenix - Run Run Run


4. Adam Green - Gemstones


5. The Zutons - The Devil's Deal


6. Kent -747


7. The Futureheads - Hounds of Love


8. Yann Tierson - Les Deux Pianos


9. Lou Reed - Vicious


10. Ben Folds Five - One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn  Faces


11. Ryan Adams - Come Pick Me Up


12. Van Morrison - The Way Young Lovers Do


13. Clem Snide - Don't Let The Sun Come Down On Your Grievance


14. Eels - Goddamn Right It's A Beautiful Day


15. T-Rex - 20th Century Boy


16. Ben Folds - Bitches Ain't Shit


17. The Silent League - The Catbird Seat


18. The Decemberists - The Sporting Life


19. Snow Patrol - Chocolate


20. Shout Out Louds - Sound Is The Word

I'd totally rock out to this CD, in fact I might even burn an extra copy for myself.  It's a rather fun collection of song.  In case you're wondering why I'd send a CD to a stranger, it's because I'm part of the International Mixtape Project.  Basically, it's people, from around the world, who get a new address to send out a CD/tape monthly and receive on in return.  It's a really cool way to get bands that you love, but lack mainstream success out in the world. 

I can’t believe it, someone actually bought my elephant bank, Herschel on eBay.  Yeah, that’s right I named what is essentially a piggy bank in elephant form.  You know what?  I named my car and iPod too!! (Bertie, the Mighty Buick and Zapple)  Possessions deserve personality too…or I name things because I never grew out of the childish girlish, tendency to do so.  I'm going to say possessions deserve personality too because it sounds slightly less lame and weird.

I put it up as an experiment, not thinking anyone would actually buy the damn thing.  Didn’t I mention the stress factures in the front?  Wouldn’t that put people off?  Apparently not if you live in Kentucky.  I check out the person’s most recent bids and all were various piggy banks, though none came close to Herschel’s appeal.

I’m just really bummed out now.  I never really used him, when I emptied it out I had about ten dollars in bills and coins in there, so that was a happy surprise; he’s been a fixture in my room for so long what will I do without him?  Who will guard my stereo with such fierce determination now that’s he gone?  God, I’m such an evil bitch to sell my piggy bank.  Jesus, I had a good shot of going to hell before but this just tops all previous misdeeds.  Really, I think the only thing that could possibly top this would be me whoring myself out in the Red Light District of Amsterdam.  In theory, that will never, ever, ever, happen...in theory. 

Hmm, what else?  Oh, I have pictures from our drive on the Blue Ridge Park Way.  I've lived in this area for forever yet I’ve never really taken the time to notice how damn beautiful it is here.  Can you tell I’m on crack yet? 

I actually watched a documentary that chronicled the life of two crack addicts in NYC on HBO before.  It was interesting but some questions arose, such as, were they that stupid before or after that became addicted?  Does crack really make you that wack?  And some others I can’t seem to recall.  I was much amused for a bit and after the novelty of watching actual crack addicts wore off, I was hooked on the story.  TV, especially documentaries on HBO are evil like that.  Suffice to say, I spent most of my childhood TV time on animal documentaries on The Discovery Channel.  The amount of random animal knowledge I have circulating in my mind, at any given time, is absurd.  Damn, if only those English lessons stuck as well as the random nonsense.

Anyway, pictures:

Finally, R.I.P Herschel 1998-2005; get Lucky in Kentucky and make me proud, yo.

    & nbsp; Well, no, not really off to the Hamptons per say but I will go for a hike in yonder mountains because it's lovely outside.  You can't beat 52º at 11:00AM...hmm, if I had athletic friends who didn't have a late night last night, I'd try and get them to play some softball today. 

    & nbsp; I miss playing softball only I didn't realize it until I drove by a ballpark while teams were having practice...nostalgia is a weird feeling.  The thing was when I quit playing, I detested it.  Practice was okay but the games were killing me slowly and I actually blame my dad on this.  He wasn’t bad, he was just really involved and didn’t realize that all the fucking “Give it 150%,” were really screwing me up mentality.  I’m the type of person who gives myself a really hard time when I mess up, for whatever reason, and I’m consistently thinking if only I’d been better, smarter, quicker, etc. and it’s not fair to me but it can’t be helped. 

     The last game I played was for the championships, we had two outs and I struck out.  That was it, we lost and I blamed myself…in fact, I do believed I cried the whole way home.  It didn’t matter that two people before me had gotten outs, it was me who let everyone down.  Even now, knowing that it wasn’t my fault, I still blame myself.  Who the fuck strikes out when they’ve been playing the same game with different people for the past eight years?  Unbelievable.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us.”

    & nbsp; So, after that I picked up running cross country and found it suited me best but I still miss softball on the odd occasion I pass by a ball park and see eight-year-olds swing bats too big for their miniature bodies.

    & nbsp; Speaking of miniature bodies, there’s a girl in my class who’s heavily pregnant and I keep seeing her smoking.  Now, I’m not the type of person to say anything because it really isn’t any of my concern but it’s still a bit worrying.  I mean, this girl is young (18 – 19) and I don’t get any grand sense of maturity from her which is another cause of baby worry…I don’t know, it’s none of my business.  I walked into the class and said, "Is anyone else worried about the pregnant girl and her smoking?"  Everyone agreed but we all felt we couldn't say anything.

    & nbsp;  We live in a society that taught us to fear expressing our feelings, rather than taking the risk of angering someone.  That's just sad, yo.

    & nbsp; As I was driving home yesterday from school I was behind a van I could see through the window of and the mother turn around and slap one of the kids, hard.  I was spanked as a child, after given sufficient warnings, but never, ever, in public.  It was quite shocking for me to see, I spent a good two minutes driving with my right hand over my mouth and eyes wide.  It’s really appalling to see parents hitting or yelling at their children in public.  If you’re kids are acting like brats, stop whatever you’re trying to do and take them home.  Don’t reward their bad behavior by letting them stay out in public.