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Christ, I forgot

that I'm actually supposed to post shit in my LJ and not just use it to read other people's fic.  I have been writing, I swear, but it's all in notebooks, I have to type it up.  And it's all snippets, none of them are complete stories.  I may not ever post them, I dunno.

I want to hang on to this

I'm keeping this here so I don't lose it.  Someday, I hope she sees it.

(EDIT, 2/24/12: Jesus Christ, she gave her an STD and isn't at all apologetic.  WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.)


To That Bitch:Collapse )To the Bitch Who Ruined My Best Friend’s Life,

       I don’t understand you.  I don’t want to understand you, but I want you to understand what you’ve done to Thyra.  I want you to understand that you are in fact a bad girlfriend, and why.  It began as soon as Thyra came to Nashville, and it hasn’t stopped since.  If anything, it’s gotten worse, with last night being the worst event so far. 

       You are one of the most self-centered, incompetent, self-righteous, stuck up people I have ever had the misfortune to meet.  You live with your parents, but that’s not what bothers us.  What bothers us is that you acquiesce to them, even the most outlandish demands.  On Thyra’s second night here you allowed your parents to kick her out, even though they weren’t even in town.  And she only got kicked out because you decided it was necessary to tell your parents she was there.   Wtf? 

       You don’t take care of her needs.  You promised that when she came out here, you would “treat her like gold.”  I have not seen one iota of that promise come true.  She is emotionally unbalanced and you knew that.  By saying you would take care of her, you implied that you would take care of all of her needs, including the emotional support she needs and expects from a girlfriend.  But, as I heard it from Thyra, you made it quite clear in January that you were not emotionally available for her, at all.  When she called you at 3 am, crying, and saying she wanted to die, you told her to go back to sleep.  That is hideous, sociopath behavior.  You later told her not to call you crying, that you would not be willing or able to console her. 

       I wonder if you know the effect you have on people in general?  I don’t think you do, focused on yourself as you are.  Did you know that my mother, my brother, two of my sisters, Sarah, Audrey, Chase, and Jess, all within the first ten minutes of meeting you, all on separate occasions, took an instant dislike to you.  Sarah and Audrey said you seemed high maintenance, and kind of whiny.  Chase said you seemed like a stuck up bitch.  My brother said that Thyra could do better.  I find myself agreeing with all of them.  Not only that, but I tell my mom everything, and she finds it unbelievable, the way you behave towards Thyra.  She cannot comprehend a person like you, cannot understand how anyone could be like you.  Sarah, too, knows nearly everything, from both me and Jess.  The majority of the time, her answer is a simple “….what the fuck?”

       You double-talk a lot, too.  It’s ok for you to have a fiancé, but Thyra couldn’t flirt with Sean without you getting jealous and possessive.  You get upset when Thyra won’t tell you that you’ve offended or upset her, but when she does tell you, you get mad anyway, and you ignore her until it goes away.  For example, when you graduated and texted her saying, “I’m an adult now,” and she got offended that you implied that she wasn’t, since she had never graduated.  I realize you didn’t mean it that way, but that was how she took it, and you got upset that she got upset.  More double talk and hypocrisy. 

       You know, you know that Thyra has begun to cut herself again.  I don’t know if you realize this, but she hadn’t cut herself since high school, and it took years to break the habit.  It’s because of you and the emotional stress you inflict on her that she’s begun to self-harm again.  You know this, and you don’t care.  You do.  Not.  Care.  What kind of person doesn’t care that any friend, let alone a girlfriend, is mutilating themselves?!  It’s disgusting.

       There was a day when Thyra was very sick, bad enough to go to the doctor.  She told me she had wanted to call you, so you could come take care of her and comfort her, but she didn’t.  I asked why, and she said that she knew you wouldn’t come.  She later told me that she mentioned this to you, and you didn’t deny it.  That you indeed wouldn’t have come. 

       And finally, today, you told her you cheated on her.  You cheated on her with a male, with consensual, uninebriated sex.  Not only did you tell her this, which crushed her, by the way, you made her promise not to tell your fiancé.  I can’t understand how anyone could do that to someone they “love.”  You told your girlfriend that you have feelings for him, that you might love him, that you never plan to tell Josh about him.  You might even continue this affair through your marriage, which is deplorable.  This final act, I cannot let slide. 

       Do you know what you’ve done to her, by telling her this?  By committing this act?  You’ve betrayed her to her core, and you’ve cemented the belief in her head that she is not and will never be good enough for anyone.  She believes completely that she will never be anyone’s first choice, and you’ve done nothing to prove that thought wrong.  Can you imagine, living with that belief?  Imagine living your entire life believing that you are worthless, and low, and not good enough for anyone.  It’s enough to drive anyone to madness, and she’s already nearly there.

       I want you to leave.  I want you to leave her alone and never contact her again.  You are no longer welcome here, in this apartment.  She only clings to you because her self-esteem is so low that she’ll take whatever she can get, even dregs like you.  You are pushing her down, driving her to self-mutilation, and eventually she will be driven to suicide.  She will die.  Leave before that happens.  End this now and keep her alive.  Walk out of her life, walk to your fiancé that you don’t respect, and don’t ever let me see your face again.  If you hurt her again, you will be repaid in kind, make no mistake.

Elizabeth 

Writer's Block: Back to the Future

Back.  As far as I'm concerned, the world will only get worse from here until it finally ends in flames.  I'd rather go backwards.  I would know exactly what I'd be getting into and what would happen.  I would already know the customs, the dress, the expectations, etc.  I'd like to go to either New York: 1890s, Paris: French Revolution, or New Orleans: 1940s.
Given the choice of time travel, would you go back in time or forward?

Writer's Block: Tossing and Turning

Y'know, I actually have a dream journal that goes back several years.  I can't tell you the weirdest one, because they're all really fucked up.  The silliest, though, was just a few nights ago.

I was driving with Jess, in my old Jeep Cherokee that I haven't owned in years, and we were in Nolensville for some reason.  It started raining, then started flooding, and our car was just being swept along in the flood.  We were screaming and I was still trying to drive and steer the car, and then I just jumped out.  I got tossed around underwater and then something bit my hand and latched on.  I surfaced and pulled my hand up and it was my cousin Amy.  I swam us over the the sidewalk, which seemed to be exempt from the flood, and Jess was there.  I was like "Hey, did you park the car?"  She said yeah and pointed.  It was parallel parked, which was funny because when we went to a club earlier that night (in real life) we had a little fun over parallel parking.  So I relaxed, but then I was like "OMG WHERE IS DARCY?  IS SHE OK?"  Jess was like "Yeah, she's still in the back seat."  And I was all "NOOOO, DARCY, SWEETHEART, BABY, I'M COMING FOR YOU, MAMA'S COMING!!!!"  

And then I woke up.  Weird, yeah?
Tell us your weirdest dream.
Ok, I'm just going to start writing and let what floats to the top of my head come out.  So Nikki and I left Nashville around 3 AM to head for Atlanta, with her mother's paranoid phone calls following us the entire trip.  We made it to the venue at about 8:30 AM eastern time, and managed to get a BADASS parking spot right by the front door.  We immediately set up our camping spot and buddied up to these two awesome girls (both named Katie) and chatted.  Within an hour, these three young girls took the next spot after us.  We called them The Younglings because they were all about fifteen, and annoying as hell.  But, they had sidewalk chalk, so we put up with them.  We drew all over and Katie made a badass, multicolored Danger Days spider and named him Sherman.  

Hours passed.  The day got hotter.  We moved to sit on the hood of my car in the shade and basically just did nothing for HOURS AND HOURS.  Finally, around 4:30, people stopped just sitting around in something vaguely resembling a line and actually made a for real line.  We cut in line (obv) and were maybe the 20th people into the venue when they opened the doors at 6:30.  Woo!

I made a beeline for the barricade on Frank's side of the stage, and ended up maybe two or three people away from the actual barricade.  No biggie, I just knew I'd have trouble breathing later.  I'd deal.  But a lady I'd made friends with earlier, Candy, figured out my problem right away and grabbed my arm and planted me at the barricade.  Thank you Candy!!  I was literally five feet away from Frank's mic.

The Architects played first, and I think they were good, but honestly at that point I was so exhausted I nearly slept through them.  Same thing for Thursday, although Thursday's lead singer was HOT.  I just kind of slumped against the barricade and saved my energy.  After Thursday finished, My Chem took FOREVER to come out, and the crowd began to surge.  I was mushed with my front against a tall guy in front of me and a very very fat girl behind me.  But next to me was this absolutely beautiful girl with a completely shaven head.  Like, not even stubble, it was all gone.  I asked to touch it, she giggled and said yes, and we talked.  

She told me I look like Kristen Stewart and I was like ".....thank you?"  She mentioned that she hated her in Twilight but loved her in ".....oh, what was that movie.....the newer one...um...."  "The Runaways?!?!"  "YES!"  And so we fangirled over that for a moment, and then a few minutes later somehow it came up that she knew sign language because her mom is deaf.  And do you know what she did?  She did the "I am a beautiful palm tree!"  I SHIT YOU NOT.  And my eyes bugged out and I was like "MAD HATTER FROM DISNEY WORLD?????"  and she was like "OMG YOU ARE MY NEW BEST FRIEND LET ME SHARPIE MY FULL NAME ONTO YOUR ARM SO WE CAN FACEBOOK."  So yeah. 

Then finally, FINALLY, My Chem came out.  First impressions: Ray's fro, photos on tumblr do not do Gerard's hair justice because it fucking GLOWS, Mikey is taller than expected, and Frank is TINY.  Like, WAY smaller than I expected.  He is fucking adorable.  They began with Look Alive and Na Na Na, and omg I was blown away.  The music, the boys, the sound, Frank spazzing all over the place...it was just absolutely perfect.  I took endless pictures and videos, and Frank spit on me and it got on my face.  They finished and went offstage, but we kept moshing and screaming and surging and yelling "MCR MCR MCR MCR MCR" and they came back out for an encore.  But they didn't just play one song, they played TWO.  I have NEVER heard of a double fucking encore.  

We headed to the merch table, I spent over 100 bucks, and we headed out to the buses to try to get shit signed.  Unfortunately, they never came out, and I never got to give them my necklaces.  Very disappointed, but I will live.

Oh, also, everyone's ears were fucked up and everyone kept hearing everyone else's voices as chipmunk'd.  Not kidding, it was hilarious.  My ears are STILL ringing, btw, and my bruises are beginning to really blossom.

Then we drove for five hours back to Nashville and I will never ever tell anyone that most of the time I was fighting not to fall asleep at the wheel.  Scary stuff.

In summary: best day and night of my life. 

Writer's Block: Earth Mk. II

If you could design your own planet, what would it look like and who would live there? Describe the colors, the creatures, and the culture.

Best question yet.

My planet would be smaller than Earth, but not by much.  Just enough so that the gravity is lesser.  It would not be a water planet but a Jell-O planet.  Of the blue raspberry persuasion.  The landmasses would be rock candy and mashed potatoes, with butter rivers.  The creatures would all be animated plant-life.  A bit like druids and tree-folk.  And I really shouldn't be writing this while I'm stoned.

No, Mr Bond, I expect you to die

 Look, don't ask about the title, it was the first thing that came into my head and I really have to pee as I write this and so my concentration is not so hot.

Anyway, let me explain.  No, is too much, let me sum up.

I'm going to see MCR on May 11th in Atlanta
I made new Killjoy friends
I'm still on my creativity binge and have been painting like crazy.  Walking into my room will get you high off paint fumes right now.
I REALLY need to pee.
I made the decision to get more tats regardless of what Auntie Diane will do, and regardless of the 25 grand I will lose.  Sorry, Diane, but it feels too much like a bribe.  I love you anyway.
My weight is quickly becoming an obsession
I can't stop spending money, which is bad, I need that dough to get into EMT school.
GODDAMMIT I'LL BE RIGHT BACK I HAVE TO PEE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW
Wow, okay, that's much better.

Ok, so, I'd like to talk for a moment about detours.  I don't mean this in any mystical, existential, deep thought kind of way.  I mean this in the literal, this road is closed so you have to find your own way bitch, kind of way.  Obviously, things happen to roads that mean you can't drive on them.  This happens a lot, since we haven't invented affordable hovercars yet, and so we continue to roll about on the asphalt on little rubber wheels.  The asphalt does not appreciate, and often cracks or sinks or just plain shoves two cars together in a huge accident.  When these things happen, a detour is needed.

This is usually accompanied by a low ranking rookie cop in a little light up vest and an orange sign pointing you to go "that a-way, miss, you'll just have to go around."  Fine.  There is a large orange sign marked DETOUR with a very helpful arrow.  I will follow the arrow and find a fairly easy way around this bitchy section of road.

One hour later and I am lost in a neighborhood that clearly had its layout designed by Satan.  Not only am I lost in Satan's 'hood, but so is everyone else who is trying to figure out the detour.  

Now, when the officials block off the bitchy section of road and set up the detour sign....aren't they supposed to make sure that everyone will be able to follow the detour?  Don't they have to ensure that we can all find our way OUT?

Not so in Brentwood.  We are left to fend for ourselves, and we do not handle it well.  The Satan!hood turned into a parking lot, and it turned out that the only exit was a stop sign that let out onto a four lane road, so each driver had to spend about five solid minutes waiting for a gap and then OMG WE MIGHT FIT THERE PUNCH IT PUNCH IT GO GO OMG WATCH OUT.

Yeah.  That was my morning.  Fun fun.

Writer's Block: Born to do it

What is your idea of the perfect job? Do you think you'll ever get it?

Perform.  Singing, acting, dancing, stunt double work, daredeviling, pranking, you name it.  If it means performing in front of an audience, I'm there.

Writer's Block: Making a better day

If you were given one magic wish to improve the world, for what would you wish?

The end of all douchebag behavior.  No one acts like a moron even when they know better.  Everyone acts with kindness and consideration.  NO DOUCHEBAGS.

The Aftermath

Turns out this story has a happy ending!  My car is ok.  She does not need a new battery OR a new alternator, she just needed a little cleaning.   Yay for my dad knowing what he's doing around cars.

I tell ya though, the stress of these last two days is killing me.  Mani pedis and massages are DEFINITELY in order.

And in two days I get to see my bestest bestie ever.  Yay!!!

And now to part two of this oh so entertaining post:  LAST NIGHT'S DREAM

Ok, so, I don't know what it is about my dreams, but NONE of them are normal.  I've got a dream journal on my computer that goes back about three years, and y'all, my dreams are FUCKED UP.  This one was no exception, and as usual, I enjoyed the hell out of it.

I only recall it in blurry images and random moments of clarity, as dreams are wont to do.  I was a Killjoy, and me and the other Killjoys got in a clash with some Dracs.  Shit went down, and it got worse when we realized Korse was there.  Blah blah blurry blurry blurry and then I was on my back in the dust and Korse was straddling my waist on his knees, pinning me down.  He had two Dracs hold me while he tattooed "PROPERTY OF BLI INDUSTRIES" on the inside of my forearm, and then he just let me go.

The next thing I remember is riding back to the diner in the Trans Am and Fun Ghoul whacking me on the head going "Hey, look on the bright side.  You said you wanted another tattoo!"

And then later, Poison and Ghoul were talking about how to deal with it, and I woke up when they had decided to just completely remove that patch of skin.  Fun stuff.

I need to start keeping a journal of EXACTLY what I eat before I sleep.....

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