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GirlWithAPen 29, Female, Indiana, USA - 28 entries

May 2010
5:42 PM EDT

My locker is the very last eighth grade locker in the entirety of the eighth grade hallway and there are four seventh graders with lockers right close to mine. Yesterday, the two next to me caught a whiff of something that they thought was unpleasant-tempera paint. I can't help the fact that I always smell horribly of paint. We rotate our extra classes and right now, I'm in the art rotation. It ties with foreign languages for the best. And since next year, I won't be taking an art class because I was accepted to the student publications class (yearbook). So I've been working my bass off on all of my art projects. Right now, we're doing group projects, and when I'm in the group, they become Mariah Projects, but the art teacher, Mrs. H, has been getting on us about not working as a group. It was a project on Jackson Pollock that I just finished *wipes sweat from forehead*. Unfortunately, because it's not hard enough, we weren't allowed to just drip paint for the entire project.So I stayed up late doing a recreation of "The Key". She had better be happy with it, because I went out and bought my own posterboard, my own paints, and my own brushes, just because the other members of my group weren't mature enough to use hers. But really, the point of this was how prissy these two seventh graders are. Apparently, I'm revolting- I don't straighten my hair (I actually let it air-dry on my way to school, so it's really frizzy), I wear no makeup, I'm not athletic (a sin in their book), and I constantly smell like paint of some type or other, or of a theater makeup room (not a very pleasant odor either). Well it's late, and I still have to print out the written portion. Ciao.

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whoami? 40, Female, Nebraska, USA - 60 entries

May 2010
2:45 PM CST

Living someone elses life

So day number one of having this online journal. I think I'll like it�as it might be a solution to the problem that my mind moves�much faster than my hands can direct a pencil. I don't even like writing so I don't see how I've even made it this long with writing in my journal. Probably has a lot to do with poetry. My version of shorthand. Something that can keep up with my thoughts.

The thing that spurred this on was getting into a blog for a housewife. One that ran off to L.A. dated a surfer guy for four years and then decided to spend some time at home with mom and dad. She fell in love with a cowboy and suddenly turned from a�high-heal wearing vegetarian to a meat eating cattleman's wife. Such a beautiful�love story, but so delicious in my mind, too much makes me want to puke. At points I was so enthralled by the romance of it all that I almost forgot it wasn't my life, I was�a single, miserable 25 year old who is in the midst of living out her "dream" in another state�while constantly longing for HOME. It was this great state of bliss where I was living in her life, being swept up off my feet by some handsome chivirous cowboy in small town USA. Oh if only....oh wait I experienced that, and it blew up in my face...which brings me to the next state of emotions I found myself passing through as I read her blog.

There were other times when there was some sort of�drama or internal conflict in the story and just like me, I adopted it as my own, finding just the perfect similarties in our lives and then sitting here moarning my own drama, both past, present and future, go figure.��As I wallowed in my misery I�stooped to that lovely state of depression and self-pity that I so often find myself. Wishing for my love story, wondering if it will in fact ever really occur. I have experienced every level of love up to the point of really experiencing true love, and this in itself is enough to cause a gret deal of internal misery and conflict. I want love, I don't want love, love doesn't exist, it does exist, my time will come, it will never happen for me, and on and on and on it goes. Same deal different day.

So the question is: will true love ever find its way to me? And on the coattails of that question comes: will I ever find my true identity?

God has apparently called me for some great higher purpose, but it seems that in order to fulfill that purpose I must be living in some distant land, where money, expansion, and food is the god of choice. Three gods that I'd rather not toy with, but in this case must live with. What a joy, believe me.

Is it obvious that I am holding some bitter grudge in regards to this scenario? Like someone is to blame for casting me to this distant island, for giving me these crazy desires and passions, when in fact aren't these all my own? Or are they placed there by God, my author and creator, who has the dreams and desires for my life and has placed them in my heart? If only I could settle this question in my mind.

If I think back, I am the one who chose this life, therefore I am the one who should be held responsible. So the only one to blame or hold bitterness towards is me. But why the bitterness in the first place? Isn't my life good? Don't I have all I need? Am I lacking anything? Yes, yes, no. I think it's the simple matter of "the grass is always greener". I want simplicity. I want love. I want peace. I want serenity. I want all I can't seem to find in this distant land in which I live. This is no new problem by the way. This�is one I carry�with me�in my back pocket. I had my�time living the small town life, for 18 years, and I was dying to leave. Once I did,�once I ran away as far as I could without it being too rebelious, I found myself in such a similar position. Dying to get out, dying to leave, and hating every minute of my existence because of the way I had chosen to live my life.��So what did I do? I ran again, but�the next place I found myself, was pure paradise. My garden of grace, peace, love, acceptance, joy, laughter and smiles.�A place I could have stayed�forever had fate allowed me. But God decided that wasn't where�I�belonged, and I think this�is the root of my bitterness. But�who really knows.

Anyways, I got sent to MO, and�hold a temporary, basement dwelling residence in KS. Lived one tough year, where�most students wanted�nothing to do with me�so�I faced rejection every day of my life.�When they finally started to accept me, the time was up,�but it was conveniently�just enough time to end things on a good note, and get my mind into a little more positive state that�would cause me to�hold some level of willingness to return. Problem is though, I come home to good ol NE and find myself longing to be living here. As is the case most time I come home. If I'm honest with myself, though, it could have a lot to do with the fact that I don't really have to work when I'm here. It is just all fun, games, rest and relaxation. What a life huh? Who wouldn't long for a life like this?

I do find it funny how the guys I go for are from my hometown. Josh, Mani, Amos...uhhh...maybe Bob. Okay let me put it this way, Amos and Bob offer a life in this town, and I like that. So though they are great, I think it's the simple lifestyle I'm attracted to. Bob and I have a ton in common. We could really have a blast together. I hope we can hang out as friends. I just reallllly wouldn't want to screw it up like I did with Amos. I still miss his friendship. He had great insight into my life. I miss that and need it. But stupid me went traipsing around shouting my stupid feelings and then went and blew the whole friendship to bits and pieces. Nice goin Ash.

Anyways, I'm out. Better do something considered productive.

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CraderChic98 27, Female, Louisiana, USA - 9 entries

May 2010
12:16 PM EDT

Eskimo

Hey Eskimos Are AWESOME!!!!!

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CraderChic98 27, Female, Louisiana, USA - 9 entries

May 2010
12:11 PM EDT

School

At School!!
B
O
R
I
N
G!!

Tags: BORING

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1 comment(s) - 03:13 PM - 05/12/2010

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NiteBlood 59, Male, Georgia, USA - 4 entries

May 2010
9:59 AM EDT

i hope i am doing this correctly it seemd like we are growing apart each day i donr know what to do to bring us together it is hurting us i know that you seeem merisable and i feel like it is all my fault

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whoami? 40, Female, Nebraska, USA - 60 entries

May 2010
7:18 AM CST

The fear of doing the "wrong" thing haunts me day in and day out. I put so much stress on myself just in trying to make decisions because I feel so pressured to make the "right" choice. Like somehow if I make the wrong one life will cease to exist as it has and I will have screwed it all up so badly that nothing will ever go right again and nothing will ever be the same as I know it. I fear taking the wrong job, going on the wrong trip, buying the wrong thing, eating the wrong foods, living in the wrong place, with the wrong people, saying the wrong things, and the list goes on and on. You see, the world exists in black and white for me, good and bad, right and wrong. I live at the extremes, all or nothing. I know the happy medium exists, but it seems utterly impossible for me to live in that realm. The point where nothing is all good or all bad, all happy or all sad, all right or all wrong, it just is, and the choices you make, if they are wrong, will not send you spiraling out of the spectrum completely, never able to return. I just want to be. I want to make decisions without all the pressure of it being the right thing or the wrong thing. I want to understand the balance between making wise choices today because they affect your tomorrows, but that you can only live for today, for tomorrow has enough worries of it's own. God help me.

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3 comment(s) - 08:33 PM - 05/20/2010

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CraderChic98 27, Female, Louisiana, USA - 9 entries

May 2010
12:51 PM EDT