Goo urn:uuid:0e09fab3-a708-1917-2976-739cc7016428 2008-10-30T01:32:28-04:00 Goo A Note To/For Zach urn:uuid:dd3b64c8-8c91-aeb0-40de-9fa07446eb2c 2008-04-17T21:53:13-04:00
I hope this blog/message/letter finds you well, content, and happy. I, myself, am currently physically healthy, but I have returned. On my last blog post, I wrote "The End." That was it. I closed my blog, terminating (only in my mind, really) any future blog writing on this account. No, I was done with blogging, and that's what I meant when I told you, "You missed something." You missed my resignation. Alas, though, here I am again. This final blog post is dedicated, in the same way that books are dedicated, to you.

I am writing in response to yesterday's conversation. No, I'm not interested in telling you about my mental or emotional reaction, as custom on my blogs, because I tried to ignore what felt like "passive-aggression," or what could even be seen as an attempt to control me from afar. Maybe you wanted to "pump information," because you hadn't talked to Kevin until the following day in Gym class, not in English. I don't know your motives, nor do I wish to analyze what it is you were attempting. Please do not explain it to me, because such an explanation would be an easy catalyst for another fight. I no longer am willing to fight, and the thoughts behind these words are irrelevent at this point and for eternity.

My response is a question. Please do think about this question-- If you don't, that's your choice. Please don't let the fact that I wish you to contemplate the question stop you from doing it. The question is one that you once asked me, and it is mentioned in a blog past. It is a wise, deep question---
"What do you want?"
I don't know you as the kind of person that would lie or say things that you know would hurt ANYBODY. You aren't like that. I know, you don't abuse or attempt to control those who care about you, or anyone for that matter. You are a great person, and no break up, fight, or mistake could ever change that.

And so I ask you; what do you want?
                 If you want to hurt me every time we exchange more than superficial pleasantries, I'm sad to see that our past friction has left you hurting. I see I have gotten under your skin the way you had gotten under mine. I understand, and in my own hurt, I've felt similarly during past fights. If you want to continue to bicker, or to satisfy a belligerent feeling within you, I understand. I feel belligerent every time I "stress." But No, Zach, I will no longer engage in these pointless fights.
                 If you want to hate me, I understand. But I'll never hate you. If you really want to lose me as a friend, I won't undertand that. But I wil accept it, so be it if it should be. If you want to cease good relations, or even talking or looking at each other, so be it. 

And so I ask you; what do you want?
                 If you want to get along, I'd be more than glad to. If you want to know what REALLY goes on at the lunch table, I'd be happy to tell you. Just ask.
                 If you want to talk, know that I am here for you when you need me. I still care about and for you, maybe not as a girlfriend, but as a friend. (I didn't make a very good girlfriend anyway. I'm a good friend though, but as for dating, it's not my forte.) If you need anything, and even when you don't, don't feel awkward to approach me. I'm not sure if it would feel awkward to you, but it used to feel awkward for me to be around you. (Since then, I've gotten over that.) I'm not even sure if you're unwilling to come near me, but with time it'll be easier. 
All of this sticky mess will get easier. Summer will help, too.
                 If you want to remain as friends, I welcome you with open arms.


And so I ask you, Zach, what do you want? I want you to think about it, but I don't wish for you to answer me. My biggest mistake through all of this was to push an answer to a certain destructive and dangerous question.
In the whole perspective, you won't really be answering the question at all---
Not in words.
Don't tell me your answer, because that would be impossible.
Your actions alone will answer the question. 
Peace be with you, Zach. 
Whatever the answer to the question is, I hope that you find happiness.

Your friend,
Marie.
]]> My news, resolution of the Zach issue, and the end urn:uuid:a056a614-15b4-b323-95ab-8c8985ddaac8 2008-04-10T21:18:27-04:00 I've been looking at sheet music for love and break up songs, like "Plumb's Cut" and "Frankie Valle's Can't Take My Eyes Off of You." These songs would be really fun to play on the violin, I think.
But with all the looking up of songs, it's kind of like torture.
Too many emotions, welling up inside.
Why do I choose to torture myself?

Well, my good news that I promised to inform the universe;
Jeff asked me to prom. (I'm only a Sophmore, btw.)
It's a really great thing, and will be a lot of fun. Sopha-derf, kelly, nanners, and "we" (signifying that I have no idea who is going) are all going to go shopping for prom dresses. It'll be fun.
Kelly wants to do my hair and make-up.
Last time I had a "make-over," it was in Rome. I allowed the group, reluctantly, to do it. Usually, that sort of thing is done over a vacation; I got my hair cut in Chautauqua by Jennifer. Christy wanted to see what I looked like in make-up at Kawartha. We painted nails in Myrtle Beach. Yeah, I'm freer on vacation, not having my ever-present headband on my head.
So, I'm going to allow her to wreak havoc... Or more or less, do to me what she will.
She says she'll be modest, a slight comfort. XD
Why not, it's P R O M!
Besides, I don't think Jeff knows me enough to know that all this make-up junk is way out of character for me. I don't think I'd like to disappoint him.
His prom date will be pretty. *poof*


~Goo.

PS. Update on the Zach situation;
I told him the news of the prom-asking-by-Jeff, and he acted either
1.) Like he didn't know how to handle the situation.
2.) Like he wasn't over me.
3.) Something I didn't think of.
When I told him my news, he wasn't happy for me. I really did think that he would be, because he said that he wanted to congratulate me on my GETTING MY TEMPS. He SAID that he wanted to share in my joy, but here he clearly didn't. He shuffled and set down his books harshly, didn't smile at me, and didn't even look at me right away. Like it made him angry and he was just going to ignore it.
I expected him to smile at me, and say, "Good, that'll be fun." But he didn't. He wasn't happy, and that was evident. Whether it was because he's not over "us" yet, or because this information merely made him uncomfortable, I haven't a clue.
But I do know that I'm not going to worry about it.

I haven't talked with Zach all day today; Good step?
I hope so; It's been really hard to avoid him.
I want to tell you all about why I am avoiding him and minimalizing contact.
I really do want to spill my guts the way I normally do when blogging.
But I won't.
I can't.

You see, I can't tell you anything at this point because things have gotten "interesting" in a bad way with the Zach situation.

So from this point on, this is all you know about him, about us, and about me;
I haven't talked to him all day.
We will both continue to merely exist.
To melt away, into the backdrop of life.

"The end."
Gee, not a very satisfying ending, is it?


]]> My Plea for Peace. urn:uuid:93ff454b-ba33-4ba4-47ec-1069c921b8a0 2008-04-08T22:16:36-04:00 Does he strive for it in the way that I do?
We fought AGAIN today. About something stupid and silly this time.
Time and time again, he seems to be too sensitive to everything I blog about. (Yeah, he's been reading it AND INTO it.) This time, it was my being too sensitive. Not that it was my first time, because it wasn't, but it was my fault for taking his little "instigations" too far.

He was ticked that I don't tell him anything anymore. Well, gee, it's not like he's the ruler of my life. I don't think I always told him everything. But if that's what he thinks I'm supposed to do, I'll be more than agreeable to go with it. I like Zach, no longer as a boyfriend but at least as a friend, right? I want peace. I want to befriend Zach, or more like "re-befriend." He's a great person, so why can't we get along?

I started to tell him things, just stuff that had developed over the past week, but he didn't want to hear it because it wasn't "immediate." I'm kind of regretting that I told him at all because of the response I recieved. He didn't open up, as if he held a grudge. He didn't want to hear it, evident in his then-present (but not usually present) tone of voice, rolling of the eyes, and sneering manner. It was this point that I told his brother about the events rather than him, complaining as I side note, "I'm beginning to wonder if he even wants to be my friend." Well, when he treats me like the scum of the earth, one tends to wonder these things. Rosie, Zach's brother, promptly tells Zach, which in turn gives him reason #2 for the fight, or the continuation of it.

I shouldn't have gotten upset over his coldness. This time, I've been too sensitive.
So he's being cold. So he's being standoffish and not quite the most friendly person in the universe. So he's attacked me, or my feelings, or my being. So he doesn't want to hear about my life because he doesn't think that the past week is current enough. So what? Considering the identity of each other, what did I expect? Did I really expect him to smile at me and nod, and be my friend? Did I really expect him to jump into friendship?
I expect too much.

Gosh darn it, I'm crying again. I'm way too emotional, and Zach doesn't understand that either.
I'm a tenacious perserverer, but a fragile soul.

"A Friend" (Yes, you know who you are. ;) ) told me that most "Let's just be friends" don't work, but she said that it could work if we made it work and took a step back. She told me that I should have let everything cool; Distance myself for a few weeks before I came back to being Zach's friend.
It didn't work.
Zach's upset that I'm not telling him anything.
I have great news about tonight, and I WILL post it on the blog, I PROMISE. But I didn't tell Zach, yet, and I think it would help the situation at hand. I called him, but he didn't answer. :'(

Apparently, that's issue #1 --That I've distanced myself from him.

Blogs. On here, I post my thoughts. My inner world, as it comes to me, is typed and posted on the internet for the universe to read and ponder and enjoy. It does not become filtered through a cryptographing system, its meanings do not become hidden, masked, or ambiguated in any way. It does not go through a de-icing process, nor does it go through any proofreading.
It is the pure form of my inner thoughts. Revealed.
I tell the universe how I think,
How I feel about things,
My world is blogged.
These are my private and inner thougths. For all the world to read.
Unfortunately, that means Zach has privvy to my innermost thoughts. It has its merits and it has its drawbacks.

Either tomorrow or Thursday, I'm going to pull him from somewhere, say "We need to talk," and give him a premeditated speech that will go something along the lines of;
"Zach, we haven't been getting along so far. It's been rough.
I know it seems so difficult for us to get along.
BUT I don't want to fight anymore.
I don't want to struggle against you.
I don't want to be upset anymore.
Please, I beg you, could we make a firm resolution that we'll get along, and see where that leads?
Can we stop pointing out stupid, minor faults that no one cares about, and nit picking, and aversions.
Let's smile at each other, take an interest in each other, and just be.
Let's not worry about being friends; It came easily once, it should come again.
Let's not worry about my still-present feelings for you.
Let's not worry about anything except existing.
Everything else will fall into place,
as it had once before."

No more fighting. No more conflict.
Don't be my boyfriend Zach.
Don't be my friend, Zach.
Just EXIST and the friendship will follow.
Just peace.
Peace.

PPPPS. I can't wait to tell Zach my news. XD Maybe it's step one in the healing process?
SOOOO excited! XD
]]> Saturday, What a Day. urn:uuid:eb1528b3-3d83-558a-9570-6f65533e2e34 2008-04-06T13:10:40-04:00
I don't know where to begin, from my great news and celebration or hosting of a number of schoolmate and accomplices... Life is great right now.

Well, I have found that I am deathly afraid of the American Mailbox. And I have very bad news about the mailboxes--THEY LINE THE STREETS! They sit their, angrily acting as a gauntlet in which you must navigate through. The evil poles LINE THE STREETS! What ever shall I do?

I should update you all about this later, though, because I have to go to my high school. :S Got to go.

We can celebrate another day about Saturday, I guess. Because I won't be in a place where one can blog on Monday.
We have an NHS ceremony, and then I have to leave.

Which, I'm also leaving right now.
]]> Short addon. urn:uuid:e0c7ef45-d4ba-5ac9-8a15-ec9768d99d0f 2008-04-04T21:49:31-04:00 Please don't tell Zach.
]]> Mountains, Molehills, and Mirages in the Desert. urn:uuid:d53aef7d-701e-5df2-bc62-d898676a814b 2008-04-04T21:45:00-04:00 I know I promised the Kate that I would update her on the Zach situation via blog AS SOON AS I GOT HOME, but things sort of got in the way of that.
1.) I am taking care of Sam, a dog down the street. He’s HUGE, but a slobbery sweetheart. I should blog about the greatness of the canine someday.

2.) Patrick, who is in 4th grade, came over. He broke his garage door opener and couldn’t get inside his house. We took the cover off because we had to fix it, and the “magnet stick” thing was not where it should be. Mom thought it needed new batteries. It didn’t.
I’d never seen the inside of a garage door opener before. They’re a lot less boring than one’d imagine. You’d think that the only thing in there would be an IC transmitter or something else that you couldn’t play with. BUT no, it had three fixed capacitors and a variable, probably to make sure the garage door that you’re opening is indeed your garage door. They had a transistor; don’t ask which type, I didn’t cut it off to find out, and the button was fairly interesting. We put the magnet back where it belonged, withOUT the help of the overused and trusty paper clip, but I relented and showed him that the stick indeed did have a magnet inside of it by using a paper clip. XS
We went outside, and I didn’t put the magnet on far enough down the tube. Slowly, we kept pressing the button while moving the magnet until it was adjusted to the point where the garage opened. At this point, we put the cover back on the case, and the opener was fixed.

3.) Christy stopped over to tell me something that I can’t tell any of you online because Zach sometimes, er… a lot of times, reads my blogs. And he can’t hear about that. Christy wants me to ask him to e-mail her, but it’s not going to happen. What is wrong with this universe? Is anyone, including me, not allowing emotions to get in the way?!? I’m starting to wonder what it would be like to be a sociopath—Then I wouldn’t care.
Ah, the great crime of APATHY—There would be no world problems if everybody cared. Ignorance is bliss.

4.) I had to organize an "Emergency" Robotics Club meeting at my house because we have no code for the competition. Update will follow.

Back on target, the ZACH issues.
It’s hard to start from the beginning because there are a number of little tributaries coming together and culminating in this one, really great event. Well, I think it’s great. Zach just rolled his eyes. He does that, don’t hold it against him. It’s not a crime, or anything.

The day of the fight, the blog that had been blogged two days ago, I promised to keep Pete/you all updated. I’m not sure which. No, I don’t always remember what I wrote, in the same way you can’t always remember what you’ve told someone. Or yelled, for that matter. :S

So, yesterday Zach and I talked more about the issues of “my lack of teamwork.” Because no one in the group thought that I would get pizazz-ish… (That’s not a word, by the way. The suffix is totally just tacked onto the word.) I get where he comes from, but still can’t believe he’s trying to put restraints on my creativity. ONE CANNOT IMPOSE LIMITS WHERE LIMITS ARE NOT IMPOSED!!!
Something really struck me, though, during the conversation. The blog of our fight was MEAN, BITTER, and I wrote it in tears. Actually, I just reread it, and it's not bad at all. Still, I was emotional, very hurt and metaphorically writhing. In RORAQ’s words, “Hurt beasts tend to fight back.” I was angry, upset, and injured. So instead of staying away from pens or venting personally in my green book or muse book, I blogged it. My emotions, anger, and fight went onto the Internet for all to read.
My point is that in my highly emotional state, I viciously attacked him. Repeatedly. And what struck me during the conversation was as follows;

He was almost understanding. No, he WAS. As if he understood my perspective rather than being blinded by all of this fire and acid with which I wrote the past two blogs (Well, please read the past two blogs, and judge for yourself). The word that really must be used here is, Mature. Much moreso than the time when this fight first started. He didn’t discuss my injustices toward him; He discussed the debate of the day before, in a calm, real way. Not a “realistic” way, but a REAL way. (There is a difference—One is merely a perspective, the other is a fact, things are as they are.)

Unfortunately, I did not digest or come to terms with his sagacious or mature attitude during school. RORAQ and I discussed the whole fight. RORAQ hadn’t been reading my blog, but before he came to the meeting as of yesterday, (Another thing Zach hasn’t discussed with me is my stupidity when it came to describing “Pillowless camping.”) RORAQ had caught up on his reading.

He said, quoted accurately, “Dandelion, I know that Dandelions taste bitter. BUT you, my Dandelion, need to stay sweet as the buttercups. Who have you become in the last two days?” Yes, I started crying. It was a horribly wounding thing to say. This was also before I reread everything I wrote, and I thought that, in my anger, I put horrible things on the internet. I was imagining all of my rage being transformed into hot words. It wasn't as bad as I'd imagined, but still. RORAQ is worse than Zach in the bleary-eye department, when he wants to be. The words cut like daggers.

It was my turn to be the jerk. While Zach did deserve the harsh criticisms I gave him, from being self-rightious to argumentable. WELL, the "bitter" word could be debated, depending on whether one thinks that the first two little fights after the break-up revealed bitterness. Yes, I had indirectly insulted him a number of times, but they were all based on fact. While it was arguable whether they ARE fact, (Zach would probably say that they aren't, like a heresy starts with an iota of truth and builds twists and lies from there,) but they had some truth in them. BUT whether or not he is what I call him, whether or not he's a jerk, whether or not ANYTHING,
That does not give me the right to be bitter about it.
That does not give me the permission to tear him down. (Read it--I don't know if I did that. What do you think?)
I do have the right to express my viewpoints, though, protected by the first amendment.

He was very antagonizing in school today, saying that I called most of my high school peers "boring sociopaths." Comprehensively, he's twisting my words. Again.  The offending line in question was, "If Zach thinks my friends are too weird for him, than he must prefer the boring sociopaths of society. Either that, or he prefers to obtain the monopoly of wit..."  It traces its bitter origin to the fact that Zach thinks all of my friends are bad, horrible people, and not good influences. He bases his conclusion on the very few people that he's met; A bubbly Bead, a very nosy neighbor, and a very close friend who advocated our break up, and acted with horrible, swearing e-mails because she knew he wasn't right for me.
One thing he forgot when all “MY friends are great, his aren’t” speech—many of my friends are his, too. The first few words are "if Zach thinks MY friends..." Granted, in the emotional state, I classified them as “ONLY mine” when they’re not, but he thinks I’ve insulted most of my High School. Come to wonder about it (and talking about friends), how many friends outside of Our High School does he have? He has few neighborhood friends, and doesn’t even know many of the people around his neighborhood. He probably has quite a lot from grade school and parish, though. The question remains, how often do they talk? I guess the answer remains to be irrelevant. Still, it makes me angry when he insults all of my friends on account of one (very close) friend who tried to get us to break up for the longest time by sending Zach horrible, cursing, scathing e-mails. And he thinks RORAQ is strange. He is. BUT that does not give him the right to downplay the people I surround myself with on the not-school world. (Does Zach have a not-school world? BOY SCOUTS! And probably gradeschool/parish stuff, too. I don’t know. He doesn’t often discuss such matters, and neither do I.) No, I did not insult my friends at High School.

RORAQ had the entire blog analyzed, and I asked him about Realism. He laughed at me and said that he was a realist. My mouth dropped. RORAQ is a realist, how about that. :S

This was his blog verdict; “You’re bitter toward him, and you still like him.” Naturally, I objected. I saw bitter, that made sense. But where do you get the feelings-for-him bit? That could not possibly be found in there! Once again, he proved it. I won’t go into that, though, in case Zach would be reading this. He doesn’t need to know that. And he can’t wrestle that information from me. I dare him to. :P

We talked about the blog awhile, and he told me to be careful in how I word things. He knows that I say things exactly the way they come to mind, and I don’t edit at all. BUT I should be careful, and maybe reread what I write once in a while, or slightly altered messages from the true meaning may surface. (The friends paragraph above could definitely use some proofreading work to make it less choppy, but I won’t bother.) Words are tricky like that, where they can so easily be twisted against you and handcuff you to a wall. He said he thoroughly enjoyed all of them, most especially the first few.

He commented on a number of things besides the words themselves;
1.) He sees a perceptible change from the beginning to the most recent that shows a “Rotting” (his word and not mine) of my opinion of Zach. He acknowledged the fact that most of the blogs were written in highly emotional states (WHY do I do that? I’m such an idiot!), but I should watch it because Zach, said RORAQ himself, “doesn’t seem to me like the scum of the Earth, so don’t let him slip too low. Yeah, so he's not good at presenting your faults. So what.” He wasn’t implying that I treated Zach like the scum of the earth, but my recent bitterness is still not a good sign. Naturally, I objected to his ideas; respect cannot be applied in this situation, not in the way he applied it. But I was wrong—I reread my beginning blogs. It’s as if I still was twitterpated and infatuated with him, but I was trying to hide it. As time went on, I went on to indirectly insulting him.

2.) The last two entries, I seem to be the bitter-er one, not he. I should not be writing in emotional states, or issues may arise with what and how I think. He said, “Go outside, in your woods, or wherever, and get some endorphins before you start writing.” I laughed. It sounded silly.
But his point stuck. I WAS bitter, then. The bitterness still could arise. It doesn't have many times where one could actually point out a bitter remark, but the tone itself shows that I'm not happy. The majority of my acquaintances may think I’m sweet, but I have a dark and bitter side, one that only shows up when I’m feeling depressed. (Insert blues-y song here.) I guess this fight, attacking the very essence of my being, was one of those times.

3.) I intersperse “big words” with stupid phrases, which makes him think that I’m going to be a biologist—Biologists, in his stereotypical opinion, are incredibly stupid and incredibly intelligent all at the same time. :S What? Oh, and a lot of my words are spelled incorrectly.

4.) Zach is very sensitive. Little tiny details could start him on a red herring. I don't remember RORAQ's exact words, but he said something along the lines of, "If you hint at something, Zach sees it to be there. If you don't, he wonders if it is there." Zach is nitpicking my blog. Using my own lack of positively knowing exactly what I wrote on my blog against me. No, the whole bitter thing is not that bad. No, there is no real proof that I called him a nerd. No, a lot of this takes one line, or even a few words, and twists them in such a way that I get scared and feel crummy all day.

He concluded with his “blogal” analysis with something along the lines of, “Are you sure you want to lose him as a friend?”

I stared blankly at him. “I never said that.”

“No, but with all of this endless conflict, he’s pushed you away. When YOU YOURSELF are stooping to contempt and offense toward him, he will get the (he swore here) away from you. But here’s the million dollar question, ‘do you really want him to leave?’”

So there is the ultimate termination. Do I want him to leave?
It was at this time that I decided that it wouldn’t be so bad to live in New Mexico or Arizona. Now, I still waver because this would be the ultimate defeat.
No, I don’t want him to go away. But I don’t want to be the only one not wanting that. I don’t know whether or not I am, but I feel as if I am the only one who doesn’t want him to go away. He just thinks he can randomly attack me, with “You wanted to dump me and go out with Stalder” and “because you don’t care about public opinion, you don’t have the whole picture,” and whatever else he’s pulled from the bubble pit.

Zach, if you want to go away, I’m not begging you to stay.
It’s not like you’ve given much effort to be friends.
Actually, it's the exact opposite.
You find ways to attempt to make me eat my words, but what's on your menu is not on the plate.
I feel defeated.
That could be because I’m too tired.
I always get really tired whenever fighting with anyone. It stinks.
But I feel defeated.

Taking everything that’s happened the past two days, here is my final plea;

I was wrong in insulting Zach. I was wrong in attacking him. Merely because I am hurting gives me no right to launch down his throat. And no, I don’t want him to go away. I wouldn’t mind going away, but I don’t want to be the one left behind. Sad, isn’t it? I’d rather abandon him than have him forsake me? Curses to emotions.

No, I shouldn’t take anger and fling it, like a brick. Rather, one should allow it to be washed away like sand in your fingers as a wave laps over you.

I am sorry for attacking him, but I’m not sorry for my actions in APUSH class. It was cute. Not like Zach’ll be sorry for jumping down my throat over little to nothing, but then again, he never is. Was that a bitter statement? Not this time. The above was not bitter, but despairing. I’m too tired to feel bitter toward him. (With all of Zach’s rolling of the eyes and heavy sighs, I think he might feel this way towards me a lot. As if I’m too heavy a weight for me to be on his mind. I don’t know if this is the case, but that thought makes me feel bitter.)

I felt these depressing emotions pretty much all today, most of yesterday night when I called Zach three times in hopes to talk about it, and even now.

But there is a happy light x2 to a bit of this story, besides Zach expressing his maturity.

We had mass today. Mass is held in the Gymatorium (It’s a gymnasium with basketball courts and a stage. XD), where we place down “carpet” synthetic mats on the wooden floors, put out chairs and bleachers, and have mass. It’s really a great and pro-community experience. I love mass at High School (gosh, it’s hard to not reveal the name of your high school!)

There was more room in the upper section of the bleachers, right under where I sat, and Brother Tom forced a whole bunch of people up a few rows. Zach was pressed into sitting right next to me, and I wonder if somehow, that was God’s intervention. This morning, I attempted a conversation with Zach in the cafeteria, but words escaped me and I didn’t say much. His sitting right next to me caused me to well up all over again. I couldn’t sing the first song because I was in tears. I tried very hard to not let them escape or cascade down my face.

The time of mass came where everyone told everyone “Peace.” I shook Zach’s hand, said, “Peace, and I mean it.” He’d understand that I didn’t want to fight; that’s what I meant by it; maybe there’d be no more friction between us with God’s help. (He kind of wrecked the moment for me by rolling his eyes and sighing loudly. As if I was being stupid. But I really did mean it. Peace be with you, Zach. Peace be with us, and between us, and for us… Gosh darn it anyway, I’m breaking into tears again, as I write this. I want peace.) Even with his sigh and roll of the eyes, I felt as if I did something. I wished Zach peace. It’s a step toward actual and real peace. Will Zach and I ever have peace?

Out of curiosity, do realists believe in peace? I should ask RORAQ that sometime.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The other light of hope came at lunch today. I pretty much ignored Zach, sitting at the table with Cindy, discussing poisoned apples and little dwarfs running around school. We giggled a bit, and laughing feels good when one has emotional issues to deal with. Other than that, I sulked and ruminated about the stickiness of fighting and dealing with complex emotions like bitterness. Zach had previously talked about how everyone had read my blog’s last two bitter posts, and that he texted it to a whole bunch of people. That was a relief, because then I could talk to people about it and everything without having to start at the very beginning of this feud, in APUSH class. Sadly, though, many of the people whom I hoped read it, because I wanted to talk to them, hadn’t. As of that morning when he first told me about the texting, I cried in the bathroom with a friend, and no one in the bathroom read the blog, and they knew what was going on. It was three for three. I contemplated this among other things, and decided to ask Zach some questions. I don’t remember the questions I asked him, or what it was about.

He didn’t want to talk about it. He needed to study for his English test, one that he didn’t know about because of his absence on Monday. I took the test that morning, and told him what to watch out for. He gave me a half-smile, as if he was grateful for the warnings and help. I then demanded something of him, in the tone of voice of a threat, “You better get an A+.” (We don’t yet know if he did, but I wish him well.)

The help with the test, the half-smile of the hint of gratitude… They are all very little things. But it’s these little things that make life so much more bearable. We could extend the logic with more examples—Thanking the cashier at the grocery store, smiling at someone who doesn’t look like he/she’s had a great day, tossing a penny on the ground for some little kid to discover with exuberance. Tiny little, insignificant details that could mean the difference between turbulence and peace.
One really needs to appreciate the little things.
They really do count.

Peace is attainable.
As for Zach, Will we find peace?
Who knows? But it’s there.
We just…

...have to find it.


]]> Friends with ROGAIN. XD urn:uuid:e5ee4cd7-aa23-9658-8ce9-f6b121600204 2008-04-03T22:40:44-04:00
It was, apparently, our “fourth rogain experience.” I objected to my recruitment, stating, “I have never been rogaining in my life, much less have even HEARD OF IT until now. Why have I been selected to help with this?” Rebecca gave me this evil stare, like I’d just insulted her. I gave her a piteous shrug, as if I were saying, “What is it? I’m sorry, but I don’t quite understand.” Watching the exchange of body language, Christy burst out laughing. I didn’t understand what was so hilarious about this. Jan, whom I haven’t seen since the official break-up of TG, interjected, “OK, wise guy (referring to me), why don’t you start of the meeting by telling us about what is entailed in a perfect rogaine experience.” I gave her a blank look, like my head was full of bubbles.

Christy whispered to me, “You’re an idiot.” I didn’t take offense to it. It wasn’t like a horribly insulting phrase from something TGish, but rather random. So I ignored her. She then began rifling through the papers she had in front of her. They were various maps of the Chautauqua basin area/watershed/whatever. She then yelled, “You look like my eleven paddock riders.” It wasn’t the way she said it, or however random it seemed. We all burst out laughing, with the exception of RORAQ (he was eyeballing us from the table, as if we were all insane). It was an inside joke, from a camping trip long ago.

This was the moment when Andrea stormed in. She said something along the lines of, “I lost it!”
RORAQ had the idiocy to ask her, “Lost what?” You’d think he’d learn by now that it is not wise to interrupt Andrea when she’s panicky. Let her vent, and THEN cool her down. But MC saved RORAQ’s face when she exclaimed, “HER GIFT FROM GOD!” The way she said it, it was kind of as if she were serious, as if it weren’t a joke.
Allison gasped, and then said something that was inappropriate but hilarious. We all cracked up.

Zach once said that I hated friends. (Gee, you can really tell that he’s on my mind today! Grr…) With this laughter, excitement, and self-prodding, how could you possibly hate something like this? Who, in their right mind, does not like this? I must admit, these people are more eccentric, more strange, and more HILARIOUS than he is, but this may be one of the things that makes them all so special. My strange, bubbly, not-at-all boring, off the wall people.

No, Allison is NOT perverted. She just comes from strange thought processes. :S We all love her and everything she contributes to the entire camping/rogain experience, from her fear of spiders, to her love of spreading whipped cream where it doesn’t belong, to her FASCINATING horror stories around the campfire. She’s great. Really. If Zach thinks my friends are too weird for him, than he must prefer the boring sociopaths of society. Either that, or he prefers to obtain the monopoly of wit and humor.

Ted was quietly contemplating in the backdrop of the scheme of things. (With Ted, you have to be careful; He seems rude, but he’s just shy. He seems moody, but he’s just restless. He seems gay, but he’s just a loner. He seems a lot of things, but if you give him the chance and really get to know him, you’ll fall in love with him.) He’s a quiet person, like Calvin Cooledge, with expressionate, deep brown eyes. Everyone loves to go on one-on-one hikes with him because of his finesse and knowledge of terrain. It’s one thing to look at a map before you set out on a trip, and have it memorized. It’s quite another to not touch a map, set out, go wherever the country calls you, and still never get lost. He says he hates maps, and I admire that about him. It may SEEM careless and stupid, but he has IMPECCABLE feel for directions. He is a navigational mastermine, and I’d love to have him on an orienteering team. (except he might wander off if he’s bored with us). Out of nowhere, when the conversation cooled down, Ted said something along the lines of, “Dandelion, (he’s one of the few who won’t let me live that down,) I wonder why you were told to get help us, too, but I’m not surprised. You were a ROGAIN PILOT, and you came to only one of the safety meetings.” I was surprised how he spoke up. I was also surprised about the tone he used, caustic and biting, as if he held it against me.

“I never went to a Rogain meeting…” I began to protest, but he interrupted with his caustic tone—“You don’t even know that you’ve done it plennnny ‘o’ times. What do you think it is? How many times ‘ave you been camping? Rogain is pillowless.”

That last line lit a lightbulb in my head--- Rogain is pillowless. Granted, I know that sounds weird. But it all made sense. All my life I believed there were THREE types of camping, “PILLOW” camping, BACKCOUNTRY camping, and “PILLOWLESS” camping. Yes, I’m an idiot. “Pillowless” camping meant “ONLY the bare necessities, and VERY LITTLE ELSE.” Pillow camping, on the other hand, could have all the comforts you felt the urge to bring.

1.) PILLOW CAMPING—ah, yes, all the commodities. We have inflatable mattresses (Well, I don’t. I prefer the ground, not the hassle of the stupid airbag), radios, electricity, flushable toilets a short jog away, and most importantly—CAMPSITES that have been pre-mapped out. You can park your car, pitch your tent, and call it camping. I always felt it was cheating to already have a campsite waiting for you. It seemed wrong and weird.
One of the greatest things about Pillow camping, other than all the comforts of home nestled in a place of natural beauty and surroundings, was the WATERSKIING. Yes, I waterski. It’s one of the most exhilarating sports. XD
This was the type of camping we did most; least planning, least risk, least worry.

2.) BACKCOUNTRY CAMPING—We still had way more than the essentials, or so I thought. The main difference between pillow camping and backcountry camping was that we all carried all of our stuff into rugged terrain to pitch a camp just about anywhere—or at least, a suitable campsite with little vegetation, and not too close to water. Y’know, the stuff you worry about when setting up a campsite. Yes, we got there on our own, PITCHED AND CHOSE a campsite rather than having one pre-made, and settled into REAL, untouched nature. Granted, civilization was only a few miles away. BUT this camping was also labeled as “Pillowless” or “Pillowed.”

3.) PILLOWLESS CAMPING--- we were going to travel from POINT A to POINT B, carrying only what we could pack in a small frame backpack. There was to be a tarp (combine with a trio to make a tent, and there were 6 to a team, if you felt the necessity of a tent. Or, you could just wrap up in your tarp and fall asleep,) a few changes of clothing, bare essential toiletries ALL biodegradable, odds and ends of camping equipment and mesh tins, and room to put cans of food, matches, and other GROUP essentials. There was to be NO PILLOW (hence the name,) not many commodities, and no luxury items. Everything that we needed to carry, we had to carry for a long distance, so you wanted your load to be light.
Pillowless camping is GRUELLING, and the food would be gross if you weren’t hungry. But each time, after trekking however many miles in a day, times 4 or 3, I would have this wonderful feeling of victory against nature herself. We survived the trek, as physically demanding as the rough terrain and load was.
We wouldn’t camp somewhere for more than most of a night. We had to keep going.
It wasn’t until now that I learned that we didn’t consider this camping at all.
This was my experience of rogain.
I had rogained.
And because I missed so many meetings, I didn’t even know what it was called. At the times that we did discuss it, we always jokingly referred to it as “Pillowless camping,” not Rogain. So that’s what I believed it to be all of this time.
It brings me to wonder how many people I’ve made myself a fool in front of.


I should probably update you on the Zach situation, but I don’t feel like it. Comparing his issues to this great excitement, it really is quite boring. “Eclipsed,” one may say. BUT I have another, unrelated camping experience, that I need to invite him to sometime. (It’s a retreat for WYD, or our regional version, anyway. XD). Wanna come?
Oh, and RORAQ and I talked after the meeting. I asked him what he thought of “Realism,” and he laughed and told me that he was a realist. My mouth dropped open. MY RORAQ, a realist. Imagine that.
I need to write about that sometime.

Until then, I wish you happy trails.
And always take the road less traveled.
And you look like 11 paddock riders. XD

]]> Nature of People urn:uuid:2a6a1bcc-4868-8ff3-2f29-56a4662b990e 2008-04-02T19:30:00-04:00 A wise person that I know, his pen name is "RORAQ," once told me that when one is forced into a corner, your actions directly define who you are. With all due respect to RORAQ, I think that ALL one's actions define their person, not just in a trap. At first glance, you'd think that when in a trap, your actions would be further from your personality BECAUSE you are stressed and panicked. Once panic sets in, one does NOT know what one will do. Where is the extent of your own control before instinct sets in? RORAQ argues, though, that when you aren't focusing on being "civil" and living to the standards of our "brainwashing" society, merely struggling to survive, your very essence becomes noticable. You become a purer, less influenced form of yourself--Relying more on the instinct of humans rather than just . The only way to know what another person is truely made of, says RORAQ, is to test them. That's why he is always a jerk to everyone he meets at first, that is why he teased my homecoming date and future boyfriend (Zach). It's an interesting philosophy, but only if the world would give you the chance after they pass your "jerk-test." Besides, it's full of holes, or I'm a horrible apologetic. X(

Well, I think that I've been pressed into a corner with this stupid Latin Document thing. And I've found a way to get out of it.-- I called Pete, not crying until I started to tell him the events of my day. In a nutshell, the conversation went something along the lines of, "Zach and I are fighting with each other, and I don't ever want to see or speak to him again. I want to be deported to Arizona or New Mexico." The truth itself, in essence, was slightly twisted. Zach and I WERE truly fighting. We had another fight. We generally do that. :( I was toying with the idea of telling Zach, "Well, it's over. I'm never going to see you for a very long time. Because I won't be here ever again. I'm sorry, Zach, but I'm gone. It was nice knowing you. I'm sorry that our friendship had to end this way, but I'm never going to see you again," and walking away forever. But while this short and dramatic speech would give me a sick, sadistic pleasure, I LOVE MY HIGH SCHOOL! Why, oh, why, let one stupid ex-boyfriend ruin my life? This would PROVE exactly what Pete said-- that Zach had a hold on me. And he doesn't, and he never will again. (Even though he makes me cry hyperbolically every other day.) :( No, this was NOT the truth. I was not leaving, or planning on leaving, or even telling Pete that I wanted to. I was playing the evil game of "Deciet." Pete was so suprised by my burst of tears and my quick "change of mind." He said that if it was what I TRULY wanted to do, yes he used those words, he would make the official arrangements. I responded with something along the lines of, "I'm tired of fighting with that self-righteous poltroon! I want to get away from him forever! I hate him!"

Yes, I used the word "hate." The acid of the soul. The WORST felonious crime of the heart. I didn't mean it. I mean, yes, Zach is self-rightious. He is incredibly cocky, condescending, etc. BUT he is no poltroon, and I do NOT want to get away from him forever. AND Most IMPORTANTLY, I don't hate. Not even Zach. I DO NOT even DISLIKE Zach. (Side note--Zach IS capable of hatred. But it is under question as to whether or not I am capable of such a crime of the heart. I don't think that I am, but I've never done it, so I wouldn't know for sure. It's one of those things, like a theory. A theory cannot be proven, only disproven, according to Chemistry class.) I do not hate Zach.

Another side note that came up during our fight today--Zach said that I don't understand him as a person, his quirks, personality, and HIS FEELINGS. I hope he didn't read the above paragraph. While it denies many of the lies and evils I told Pete over the phone, it's still a bitter, acidic paragraph that indirectly insults him. Come to think of it, does Zach ever think of my feelings? I KNOW I think of his feelings, especially when I told him (at Calvin Park in January, before Monopoly) as gently as I could that I did not even like him until after homecoming. Before that, he was merely a friend. BUT it could also be debated whether or not Zach cares about MY feelings. He insults me, my intelligence, my quirks AND CREATIVITY. He insults my views, my lifestyle, and the very ESSENCE of my being. I won't illustrate this, but he does verbally attack me on quite a few occasions. Read the other blogs; and I will tell you about the latest attack--today's fight.

With the words of hatred, anger, and lies, Pete took the bait. He said, tentatively and almost meekly (people are usually not suprised when I spout off. It's a personality flaw. I get angry, I rant, I get over it. Zach never stays to listen to the rants. He runs away, generally), "Are you sure you don't want to just let the situation cool and see what becomes of it? I mean, it costs a lot of money and energy and time to relocate someone...yadda yadda..." I nearly jumped for joy. He was not sending me off across the United States! I mean, he didn't even have any reason to waste all of that "Time and Money and Energy." He thought that my proximity to Zach was a security risk, and if I "hated" him, he had nothing to worry about. I did not have to be launched across the US on Continental.

I told Pete that I'd keep him updated on the Zach situation. But I won't. I'll drop it, and I won't be dropped in Arizona or New Mexico. But that leaves the question--Who am I? What have I become, where I lie to my superiors to get out of punishment? It may not be a crime of the heart, and it may be a crime in mere desparation, BUT it is a crime of something else. What it is, though, I'm not sure.

This is what I think: A=C and B=C, therefore, A+B=2C. A, B, and C is as follows;

A.) When I put Zach "in a corner" when I asked him if he wanted to break up and that it was his choice, he grew angry, distant, vengeful, argumentative, and BITTER. (just to name a few of the applyable adjective.) If the above, "when forced into a corner, your true character comes out," is true, that means, underneath Zach is an angry, vengeful person. I mean, I see the vengeance. He wants to argue about everything under the sun, from liking Stalder to my opinion on the opinions on the world, to my inhibition-less persona. He has a crime of the heart, hatred of Samantha. I learned about it. He doesn't seem that great when "forced into a corner."

B.) When I was put into a corner, I am an insidious liar and use the "hate word." I use deceit to get what I want. Even though some of the story was true, I manipulated it in a way to suit my needs. :P

C.) The above "B" cannot possibly be who I am. I have trouble viewing Zach as a bitter, angry person; it is safe to say that the above "A" cannot possibly be Zach. These qualities may correspond to something that he has DONE, but that doesn't define his personality any more than my lies making me a liar. Just because one fails a test does not make that person the high school dunce. If Cheney shoots one of his friends during quail hunting, that does NOT make him a professional assassin. If you trip over your shoelace, that does not make you a klutz. The examples may go on.

Making a mistake does not define the nature of people. Getting out of a jam, or at least actions IN one, does not define your character. Unfortunately, though, it does show one's weakness of character. I feel defeated. I am a weak character. I bent to the pressure, and lied, to save my skin. I twisted the situation, in manipulation, to save the heartache of leaving my life for another.

Zach says that he has poor reading comprehension. I hope he doesn't read this. I don't think he'd be able to follow it. He probably wouldn't see my plot against Pete, and using our fight in my favor. He wouldn't understand that I didn't mean what I said to Pete. Nor would he understand that he hurt me. He never does. Besides, it has a bitter note to it, bitter against him, probably because I'm still mad at him about our fight.

Hey, I promised to fill you in on the latest attack against my character-- It's not Brian anymore, or my take on the world, or my lack of lifting a wet finger to the wind, or any of that.
Now, it's my creativity.

It's APUSH CLASS. AP United States history. APUSH. The AP exam is in 37 days. (And instead of studying, I'm blogging?)
The assignment was to get into small groups; put in order the various political cartoons of the Depression, New Deal, and FDR; post them on the board; and tell the story to the class.
Kristen and I did not feel engaged in the group. I can't speak for her, but I felt that many of our cartoons were out of order. I spoke up, but they were engaged with the belief that our group should put the OPPOSITION to the New Deal at the end, rather than interspersed throughout. (Opposition is ALWAYS interspersed, never at JUST the END of a story.) We accepted it, though, toying with the idea of "SUCCESSION from our GROUP!"
No, succession is not illegal in APUSH class. XD But still, treason is not good.

(Mrs. C finds it humorous that I prefer to work with Zach when we always argue about an APUSH concept. But really, it's the debate that keeps me in his group. He doesn't go around saying, "Yes, Dandelion, let's just put your answers up. They're probably all right." It drives me nuts when people just "expect" answers from you. Like you're being used. I don't want to be used, I want to be utilized.

With Zach, we argue about the answers. It's not a "whatever" thing, but a finding a truth. Trying to see which answer is the better answer. Pitting one form of logic against another. It's GREAT. And I need that reinforcement and encouragement that assures me that we are right because Zach and I argued about it, and FOUND the answer through debate. We tried other roads, and determined them to be less than satisfactory. We use logic. Logic is good.) Back to the story...

While Zach was orchestrating the group, ordering the cartoons in the strange way that they were, Kristen and I decided to get engaged. "Zach," I asked, "Can I do the first cartoon?" I didn't exactly agree that it was the first one. Was it that the first thing that everybody did, was "Burying that Hatchet?" I think not. :S But hey... I could create something that would make it perfectly believable.

Zach said that it was fine, and that I could do "whatever." He was trying to get rid of me. He had more important things to discuss at the moment, and I was interrupting one of his debates with another group member. Granted, when I barged in, I did not realize I was interrupting. But the fact of the matter was that, I was.

Well... Telling me that I can do whatever I want is NEVER a good idea IF you want CONFORMITY! I tend to think OUTSIDE OF THE BOX. I do not go with the flow, almost ever, as I march to my own drummer. I do what I do. AND NOT what anyone else does.


Kristen, my coconspirator, and I created a PERFECT beginning for our Political Cartoon Chronology. Everyone else was like, "Ok, this is Roosevelt's whatever, blah, blah, something about something that Roosevelt did during the depression." They weren't very dramatic, and they sure were OBJECTIVE. We decided that we were to get creative.

It was our turn. I read the beginning of our story, the first panel of the political cartoons. "Once upon a time, in a much less prosperous United States, the American people were suffering. In this economic turmoil, the democrats and the republicans decided to bury the hatchet of petty controversies." It was BRILLIANT, and a tad humorous.

My group was astounded. I don't exactly understand why they were astounded. I asked if I could do the first cartoon, and I did just that. Just because we were creative and worded things in a more fable-like way does not at all mean that we changed the assignment. I did what I wanted to do, and accomplished the task at hand with a different flare. THAT IS NOT A CRIME. (Poo to boringness and blase. Do not be boring. Have some FUN!) I did exactly what I said I wanted to do. The suprise was MERELY in my presentation, NOT in what I did. :P

But it still debonked my group. And it really peeved Zach. (I have the dire urge to call him a conformating clone. But I won't. I think I'll stick to the term "boring." If Zach wants a boring presentation, that is not what he'll get with me. You are not boring, Zach. I don't date boring people, and I certainly have not in the past. That includes you.) We had trouble taking off after that because no one knew what to do next. (WHY?!? *shrug*) Gee, Zach, in all of your planning, what was going on over there? For crying out loud, Mrs. C had to ask three times for our group to get started (NOT exaggerating.). I was hoping we would go up to the board because I wanted to point at the pictures. But I was the only one who got up, so I sat back down. And read my spiel. After I went, and much hesitation from the group, two other members attempted to follow. They were saved by the bell.

Everyone found my beginning humorous. EVEN Mrs. C. She said that I do not have very many inhibitions, and told me that she thought it was GREAT. I felt happy with it, except for our sputtering out. Something tells me that I should have written the entire thing. But then that would have made Zach even more angry.

As I went to lunch, Zach was angry. The conversation was a blur because I was holding back tears as he attacked me and my creativity. He faced me and said, "You don't work well in groups, do you?" Gee, Zach, I did exactly what I said I was going to. JUST BECAUSE it was different than everyone else's does not make it WRONG! Everyone thinks we started out well. I'm sorry you weren't ready for it. BUT YOU CANNOT IMPOSE LIMITS WHERE LIMITS ARE NOT IMPOSED! Somehow, the line fit into the conversation, "Maybe you SHOULD leave our group." And that turned into "And maybe you should leave our lunch table." Because I was causing him "stress" at "Lunch, which is supposed to be a peace and calming time." I asked him if he was kicking me out, and he said in a mocking, sarcastic tone, "I don't know. Maybe I should ASK the people at our table. (In direct referrence to conferring with group members during APUSH). Or maybe," he gave me a challenging, mocking glare here, "that's too much public opinion for you."

You must admit, those lines were not only powerful, but they were witty. Wit is one of his very attractive qualities. I am hesitant to admit it, but I smiled here. I don't remember anything important about the rest of the conversation. He said something about how I never listen to him, because I didn't about taking up the French Horn. We had a conversation about that and because I argue with him, he thinks I don't take into account what he says.

I went to French Class with tears welled in my eyes, but they weren't coming down my face. On the way to French, I saw two of our group members. I told them that Zach didn't like my entrence, and asked if they thought it was wrong that I wrote that "without group approval." THEY said it was cute.

I silently, hiding behind a stack of books and a curtain of hair, allowed the tears to stream down my face during the duration of French Class. I was hurt. I got creative, and Zach figuratively slapped me across the face. I didn't feel I did anything wrong. I merely didn't tell my group what I was going to say. They knew I was going to say SOMETHING, but they didn't care at all what. Until it hit them like a pile of bricks. Or a very funny nursery rhyme.

I went to Mrs. C and told her the whole story, and consequently was late to Chemistry class. After weighing our options, she thinks that I should just ignore him and go into my group as if nothing happened. She said that she thought he was being a baby about the whole thing, from switching seats to this. I told her that I though he switched seats because of PEACH (reference to the NHS story), not because of me. I also told her that I don't even understand how he could have not liked it. Merely because I didn't tell the group exactly what I was going to say? IF, IF any other person were to have pre-meditated their lines as I had, they would not have shared them with the group anyway. Merely because I had mine premeditated and written down, it's a crime? They KNEW I was doing the first panel. They just didn't know HOW I was doing it. Apparently, in Zach's logic, that's a crime. :P

He ruined Chemistry for me, too. He habitually ruins quite a few of my days. I am ALLOWED to be upset, though, right? Am I allowed to let this jerk ruin my day? He HURT. Bad.
He never cares about my feelings though. He says that he is a "realist."

He once looked up the "accepted" definition of nerd. Well, I just looked up the definition of "realist."
It is a PRAGMATIST: somebody who only considers things as they are or appear to be, and avoids ideals and abstracts. Gee, Zach, what a boring way to think. No abstracts? No love? No faith? No hope? No bravery? No pride? No curiousity? NO IMAGINATION. No beliefs, no fantasies, no thoughts.

What a horrible world to live in. In my world, I work up to my ideals. If he has no ideals, than what of getting good grades? What of ANYTHING? What's the point in struggling against this world? What is the purpose of life, if you can't make any difference in it for the better? How can you make ANYTHING better if there is no ideal in which to strive toward?

What a horrible way to think.

And he hurt me.
He won't apologize.
He never does. He didn't in our last two big fights, or the proceeding two smaller ones.
He's too proud to apologize.
I don't know if he cares.
It doesn't matter.

As for his realism, he hurt me.
But do realists believe in pain? Is pain real?
Hindus don't believe that pain is real.

I think that it is.
Zach hurt.
Whether he cares or not, whether he believes it or not,
he hurt.



Goo.
Please give me a hug.
I'm sad again.

]]> Malicious Gossip urn:uuid:aea70407-78ca-1e0a-4d2f-3f8cc128f75b 2008-03-20T18:37:40-04:00 Due to the HIGH sensitivity of the material I will discuss, All names will henceforth be removed from this entry, replaced by fruit. Please treat these fruit with the seriousness you would treat real, factual names. I myself will be dubbed “Tomato,” even though it is a vegetable instead of a fruit.

Background:
There is a certain fruit that believes that Tomatoes hate friends, and that is not at all the case. But there comes a time when friends hurt their friends. They try NOT to let the injured fruit or Tomato know that they hurt them, because they do their malice behind their back, but in the end the tomato found out about it. Doubting their sincerity and friendship, it hurts. The tomato feels dejected once again, by the one fruit with which she shared the closest friendship.

Apple did not understand why she was rejected by the National Honors Society. She was active, full of leadership, full of vigor, full of service. She could have easily made it in, but did not understand why she did not make it. If anyone deserved to become accepted into NHS, it was Apple. It was not until many years later that Apple learned the truth behind her blackballing—Her math teacher had commented that Apple was unwilling to work, a preposterous assumption based on a dialogue that had taken place that year. The math teacher asked Apple why she did not go to the board when it was time for her row to do so. She responded softly with dread in her voice, “Because I don’t want to.” To Apple, it felt as if she had asked to be excused from the spotlight; she was too shy and timid to do math, her worst subject, in front of the entire class. This was merely asking to be excluded from humiliation. In the teacher’s eyes, Apple refused to work.

 
Many, many, many years later (I would estimate the time to be about 30-40 years later,) another fruit, Peach, received the same rejection letter, not understanding why she was not accepted into the National Honors Society. Peach had the greatest resume for the application, far outshining Tomato’s or Cantaloupe’s application. But despite her outstanding application, Tomato and Cantaloupe were granted NHS membership, and Peach was not. Something was wrong, but no one knows what blunder had blackballed Peach from the admittance all the other fruit believed she deserved. Perhaps it was a misunderstanding, like that of Apple’s. Who knows, but maybe, Peach will learn many years later as Apple learned the reason for her blackball.

Cantaloupe approached Zucchini. They began to converse, and their conversation somehow became astray to the subject of Tomato and the National Honors Society. Cantaloupe felt that it was not fair that Tomato made it into the National Honors Society, and not Peach. Cantaloupe remarked that Tomato was very active, and something about Robotics was thrown into the conversation. But then Cantaloupe commented on how active Tomato was, and in his opinion, Tomato was not very active beyond her abilities. Cantalope said something along the lines of, “She doesn’t attend very many of the meetings.”

Was Cantaloupe accusing Tomato of being inactive in ANY of her clubs and extra/co-curricular activities?
~While it was true that Tomato did not participate in the Key Club Blood drive,
~While it was true that Tomato was not very active in TI (They only have a function every two months, and last year Tomato only attending two meetings, and this year she wasn’t going to join because of the inactivity. BUT Banana convinced her that it would be more fun this year, and after turning in a late application, became involved with only three of the functions so far.)
~While it was true that Tomato only came to three of the Peer Ministry meetings (Well, gee, how many were there? Tomato didn’t see Cantaloupe in ANY of the meetings…)
Where does Cantaloupe think he has the GROUNDS to make such an accusation?!?

He doesn’t.
There is no way.
With all the activities that Tomato does, and still manages to keep her grades afloat…
No, there is no way he had any grounds to make such an accusation.

Unless, of course, Cantaloupe is assuming something that he has NO knowledge in whatsoever. But that’s not like Cantaloupe to do something like that.

Is Cantaloupe trying to smear Tomato’s image?
Is Cantaloupe trying to attack Tomato’s reputation?

Tomato is hurt.
Betrayal hurts.
Tomato does not know the whole story, and hopes to hear it soon from Cantaloupe.
Should Tomato bring it up?
Should Tomato call Cantaloupe to discuss the malicious lie?

Sighing, a solitary tear leaves the eye of Tomato, traversing its red cheek onto the keyboard.
A solitary tear to accent the feeling of betrayal that Tomato feels---
A solitary tear for a solitary Tomato.



]]> For now, there's NO such thing as "Peace" urn:uuid:2f2cf618-f99a-f72a-7e69-2a66bed73024 2008-03-17T20:42:33-04:00
Happy Saint Patrick's Day!
Supposedly...

Today's been very difficult. I don't want to talk about it right now because I haven't yet come to terms with it. I'm sorry. I don't understand this, yet it is staring me in the face. I know what it MEANS, but it just is so WEIRD.
I'll recount the course of events tomorrow, maybe. Or next week. I don't know.

Next week is spring break.
I'm grounded.
For being stupid.
And I was stupid.
I am stupid.
I think that I need to use my brain more.

The question remains-- What would happen to the rest of the world if I wasn't stupid?
And what's with my stupidity's knack for finding... bad things?


I guess I'm a magnet of bad things.  Which, in itself isn't a bad thing.
My life is never void of excitement and drama.
With all this catastrophe, I will leave you with one quote,

“Perhaps catastrophe is the natural human environment, and even though we spend a good deal of energy trying to get away from it, we are programmed for survival amid catastrophe.”
]]> Rollerblades and Rumination (FINISHED) urn:uuid:8eb147ec-1b0a-476d-5130-d293b17c1e55 2008-03-15T10:58:19-04:00 commute between work and home are perfect for contemplation, and as the most turbulent issue in my life right now, my thoughts wandered to Zach.

I can't lie--I don't always relish the idea of going out in the cold and the rain at quarter to five AM. Someone once told me that there are only two kinds of people out at that time-- The openers (who open the store or McDonalds, getting UP at this time) or the idiots (still haven't gone to bed). Strapping on my roller blades, I set out on the distance of about two miles, all downhill (ah, so easy to get to work, but coming home not so much). Being 16, roller blades are my main source of transportation. The rhythmic whirls of wheels on concrete were the only sound in the still pre-morning, rarely even an occasional car on the "busy" main road. (No one is out at 4:45AM!). The dark of dawn encompassed me—God gave me a hug. I responded with a shy smile, looking up to the slowly waking light. The twinkling stars weren't visible, for it is almost spring and the sky becomes considerably lighter than when I make the trip in mid-winter. The day would be beautiful and calm. I knew God was there with me, watching as I rocked back and forth in the motion of rollerblading. One could just feel his presence. I said nothing, not wishing to break the rhythm of the night. But I listened. God spoke, but he didn’t use words. The dark’s tranquility, the dawn overhead, the solitude of God alone with me—these things soothed me more than words could.

And my mind wandered to ZACH. "What was his problem? Did I 'injure his male ego?' So much so that he wanted, was TRYING, to hurt me? What a JERK!" These thoughts went through my head, tossing the tranquility aside like a whirlwind. First he accuses me of running off with Brian, and saying that I'd never make it as a boy scout because I'm not 'honest and loyal.' THEN he uses my apathy for the opinions of society to say that I don't have the 'whole picture.' (The question of "whole picture of WHAT?" did not even occur to me.)

Then it dawned on me--What did these two hostile agressions have in common? Why was he attacking me and antagonizing fights? What was his problem?

It finally dawned on me-- I was wondering "What was his problem?"

He was wondering the exact same thing. "What was her problem?" He was analyzing our relationship in a way that brought him to wonder why we broke up. WHY it was that we fought during our relationship. WHY I thought the way I did. He wanted to know WHAT was wrong with us, or more specifically, WHY we REALLY broke up, and scrutinizing my blogs to do so.

First, he came to the crazy conclusion that I broke up with him for Brian.
Then, he decided that I did not have the whole picture, and he concluded that this difference was where arguements stemmed from. He was LOOKING for a reason for our break-up. Whether or not he was specifically looking for something wrong with me, I can't say. Despite a slight/moderate judgemental streak, the way he talks and thinks suggests that this is NOT the case, and that he's innocent of trying to place total blame on me.

No, these fights were NOT hostile aggressions, though he could have discussed them with me with more tactfulness. While they CAME ACROSS as hurtful attacks on my ulterior intents, attitudes, and personality, that was NOT HIS INTENT. He was attempting to figure out WHAT WAS WRONG BETWEEN US. He was trying to figure out why we seemed so incompatible. He wanted, in essence, to solve the "mysterious subliminal events" of our break up.

He wanted to find the root of "why."
He wasn't trying to hurt me.



 


]]> Pi and Peace with Zach urn:uuid:43851db9-0883-f170-4c6a-74843307493c 2008-03-14T17:01:46-04:00 Happy Pi Day, everyone! XD Pi is one of my most favorite numbers, if not THE favorite! Today usually is a day of celebration, but only the morning was good for me. I then talked to Zach, who analyzed the reasons for why we don't get along. (What, was he TRYING to pick a fight with me?) Don't worry, though, because there is hope at the end of this journey. XD I’m calm now, no longer crying, and I've tried to remove some of the acid from when I originally planned out this blog. (Most of this I actually wrote in Math Class. I knew short/long division of polynomials, but we’re learning it now so it’s not a felony that I wasn’t paying attention, though I should still pay attention. Once again, Zach’s influence casts a shadow upon my life.)

Today, Zach attempted to convict me of being an isolationist. No, he didn’t use that word, but he said that I only listen to and take on the opinions of my “core” group of friends.
(sarcasm)Oh, you mean the friendships that I supposedly “hate?” I still don't get that.
He also chided me on using the label “nerd” and on transitively applying it to him. Apparently, I really should define the words I use, according to my own, twisted personal dictionary. “According to me,” sort of thing. “Nerd,” to him, is a social group or clique. As for my usage of it, I will dramatically proclaim it to be an honorary title, like a doctorate or degree. (I should do a blog on this, and the greatness of nerdigism. XD It’s great stuff.)

M’kay. Definitions. Let’s start with the word “listen.”
(caustic smirk)Oh, I don’t listen to the opinions of the world?
Whenever I’m not agreeing with Zach, I’m not “listening” to him. (He generally gets all worked up about this---He does have quite a temper, and when I’ve tried to disprove him he gets very angry sometimes—“No, you’re NOT LISTENING TO ME!”) I think his definition of “listening” is “simple and uncontested obedience.” If I don’t agree with him, I’m not listening to him.

My definition of “listening” is to consider the argument of another, contest it against my current belief, and to absorb what remains. (Apparently, this tactic is why Zach declared our Abortion debate a “tie.” I won, but according to him, I did not give the final “blow” that would have resulted in victory. I did win, by my OWN personal definition of debate—it is meant to find truth, not kill the other person as his words imply.)

So, suddenly, it is a CRIME to not care what the rest of the world thinks. My BUILT IN CONFIDENCE, my anchor of life, is wrong. My opinions are uniquely my own, based on my own perceived personal convictions, reasoning, and factual logic. If anyone, even a close friend, marches over and tells me something I don’t believe, I would argue about it, but I wouldn’t care. Unlike Zach, I DO NOT SEEK PUBLIC APPROVAL! (For cryin’ out loud, public approval is promoting abortions!)

While I do “listen” the their opinions, I don’t really care about them. They’re taken into account, but they DO NOT SHAPE ME OR WHO I AM. I am an original of myself alone, and refuse to be a second-rate copy of anyone else. I have the guts to defy society. Does Zach? Don’t ask me, I don’t know. What I’m seeing is that he cares about the opinions of the general public, letting them shape him. I have a mind all my own. Until the “general public” shows that they’re worthy to shape my judgement, (Not looking hopeful—from sex, scandal, and abortion) I think I’ll keep my beliefs.

So there I was, sitting in Math Class, balling my eyes out. Once again, Zach continues to beat at my brain. On MY day. I know I said (only yesterday) that I did not want to hurt him. But apparently, he had no problem with hurting me. Ask him about it, he’d probably say it’s “The Truth.” (He once said that on the phone when I asked him about his critical demeanor.) But his so-called “truth” comes from his collection and conglomeration of the opinions of society? He told me that HE sees the whole perspective because I don’t care about the opinions of others. Suddenly, the merged opinions of the public, merging with his own personal convictions, perceptions, and opinions have become Facts?!?

No, public opinion does not sway me. Only a select few can affect me. Zach is one of those few who spurs a “cry-fest” almost every day. I hate fighting with him. I was hoping that when we broke up, the fighting would stop and life would go back to before we were dating, when we were just friends. I’ve put an effort to it, not a lot of effort, but not a little either. Alas, all efforts were thwarted when Zach decided to analyze why we don’t get along. :S It seems that we’re fighting more NOW than when we were dating. He starts it, with his criticism of some little, stupid thing about Brian or why we don’t get along. He’s decided it’s because I don’t have the “Big Picture” because I don’t “listen” (his definition) to society.

Half of the reason I don’t take society to heart is because of this—There are people out there, bullies and pests, who want to tear others down. There are people who don’t understand, or it is not their business. Why should I care what they think, or anyone at all? They aren’t positive. Society is not a utopia. With my obsessive demeanor, I can’t have everyone like me. I don’t care. Public opinion is nearsighted, painful, and downright dumb. Like Zach saying that blogging is painful, so is letting society play with your emotions.
Oh, it’s MY personal opinions that’s tearing us apart?
Or is it hard-headed belligerence?
Today after school, I missed my ride. Zach came around, and wanted to know why I was upset. How do I put all of the above into a consise phrase. I started to rant, but stopped myself because ranting is for my own mental relief, and Zach usually walks away when I start doing it. Surprisingly, he didn’t walk away this time. He said, “I’m trying to understand.” Those words didn’t make me smile then, but now that I’m reflecting on it, they almost have a noble quality to them. Zach does have noble qualities for the most part. Too bad you all don’t get to hear about that. You will someday, I think, but who knows.

Until that point, it felt as if he were purposely instigating fights with me. We argued some more, or more like “I vented and Zach put up with me,” bringing Lizzy into it somehow. (She is one of the greatest people, and Zach doesn’t have a clue.) Then Zach almost left, but he came back to suggest/tell me a plan.

I’m not sure how to interpret this. He said, “Maybe it’s best that we don’t talk anymore.” This could be a really bad thing. This could say, “I don’t want to be your friend anymore. Go find another table, and go away. I do not ever want to impart another word to find your ears.” Hateful?

BUT he didn’t say it with a bitter tone. It was almost as if he wanted peace, too. If by not “talking” we’d be cordial and happy. We could smile at each other, stay distant friends, stay carefree with spontaneity. I’ve been hoping for peace. I’d been trying to FIDO—to just let it all go. (It’s hard to do that when we’re constantly arguing.) Maybe his words meant, “Marie, I don’t want to argue or fight anymore. I can’t take this kind of stupid, unneeded stress any more than you can. Let’s stop talking about flaws; about our relationship; serious, grave, heavy matters; and matters of importance. Let’s be distant friends, melting into the backdrop of the world stage. Let’s just finally have some fun. And finally, we can be at peace.” Then, his ambiguous statement would be a great, wonderful, liberating thing.

The question remains, which interpretation is HIS meaning?
I guess his behavior will tell me tomorrow.



]]> Key Club Election Results, Key Club in general urn:uuid:f763c5da-bfcb-d56b-1457-824d5efec594 2008-03-13T20:46:32-04:00 I guess that’s alright, because it is for the good of Key Club, rather than my own selfish slant.
We did not get to tell the Key Clubbers our speeches, and I wonder if I would win if we did give them.
We did get to tell them two sentences about ourselves, and I was unsure of myself, nervous, and not compelling. No, I did not do well. And thus, I did not get the position. It's all good.

I wish the best of luck to Matt, who was elected. He will do well, I’m sure of it. (Well, as I said in the last blog, only a fool is sure of anything, a wise man keeps on guessing. So, I’m not 100% sure, but pretty sure.) Zach became the president, mainly because he definitely deserved it, but also because he was running unopposed. (He won't get out of my blogs, either, will he? XD )

Key Club is one of the greatest clubs/groups/extra-curricular activity that High School offers, in my opinion. The idea behind service is to give back to the community. God has given us many blessings and gifts; we have our talents and abilities, and our character. He gave us our families, our lives, and our communities, and I attend a really great high school that, because of my pride in it, really want to post it all over the internet. But with so much God has given to us, it is a special honor to be able to give back to the community. In Key Club, we do just that. We give back to our community, helping where we can from CFO to ushering the plays. We “uphold the objects of Key Club.” It’s a great thing. But as with every other “institution,” there is room for new ideas and improvements.  My little "two sentences" were my ideas for Key Club. I had a few specific goals for Key Club if I were to be elected. Zach did not like my ideas. But they were as follows.

Our Key Club Chapter is BIG. We have about 110+ students who have turned in an application, and some of us are very active. BUT there are people there who are just listed. They turned in an application, but do not participate in Key Club. Their service hour number is 0. They may have “joined” Key Club, but they haven’t really “joined in” on our great service opportunities. My vision is not to recruit new people, to encourage new members so much because Key Club’s mission in itself will do that without recruiting missions; I want to engage the people who have already joined but have not taken part. I want to get them active, and in that way, Key Club will grow in giving service.

The reasons for their inactivity are directly linked as to how I intended to accomplish this feat. It could be because this person bit off more than they can chew, but that cannot be the case because the service opportunities come at many different times, ranging from Sunday Morning Clean-ups to Friday night Lite the Night. It could be that they forgot that they are part of our institution. Or, in my opinion, the meetings are too somber. We run the meetings like a plutocracy, where we all sit attentively and listen to the goings-on and comings-up. No offense, but this isn’t a class, it’s a club. We are a community, a service team, and I feel that our meetings should reflect that. We should liven them up and lighten the mood. We could sit in one big circle rather than in the desks. That would help keep everyone focused in the circle, questions would be encouraged, and meetings will be more successful.

If I had all the time in the world, I may have been able to "sell" my ideas. But fate didn't work out that way. I'm frankly not crushed. It's one of those things that, by the laws of Mother Nature herself, one is not allowed to be upset about this. It's one of those things. (I can explain why nature doesn't allow poor sportsmanship, but it gets kinda grotesque... It has to do with Natural Selection, predator-prey relationships, and how the best man wins. And the rest of the community/niche/ecosystem accepts it as law.)

Besides, I could always try again next year. OR maybe run for class rep, if it's not too late.
Next year is going to be OVERLOAD.
But I guess I enjoy living life in OVERDRIVE.

Well, I'm going to go study for the OGT tomorrow--- It's on Social Studies. My worst AND best subject all compiled into one. :P

]]> Daisy petals and Density (As for Zach and Brian) urn:uuid:9edd0be2-e8ff-846b-1a96-6816b7ea4646 2008-03-13T20:15:30-04:00 Last time I completely convinced myself of anything, it was that Zach no longer had feelings for me.
Ah, alas. Only a fool is sure of anything. A wise man keeps on guessing. The other Nicole said that I should not at all care what Zach thinks. It’s funny—no one would ever care about how others thought of them if they truly understood how little they actually do. I truly don’t care at all what the rest of the universe thinks of me, with few exceptions. Unfortunately for me, Zach is one of those few exceptions.

I haven’t a clue what Zach thinks of me right now, but he refused to listen to my logic today during lunch. I ran, tear-faced, to Mrs. C instead. I guess one could say that she’s my confidant, if I am even eligible to have such a person. (I pretty much tell everyone everything, in coded riddles hard to follow along with, whenever I feel the urge to do so. I don’t have many secrets to tell a confidant, either.) She knows everything about my relationship with Zach. As for Zach, if I had to guess his opinion, it would not be a good one. But there isn’t all that much I feel compelled to do about it. Would it make him feel better?

In critical opinion, this accusation of my leaving Zach for Brian almost has an insecure and jealous air to it. No, Zach is not one to get jealous or be insecure—It does not at all fit in to his character description. It’s his actions and words alone that suggest this. Newsflash: Zach, I don’t care whether or not it IS jealousy and insecurity, or just LOOKS like it. BUT whatever it is, I pray that you will stop. I’ve finally moved on from thinking about you all of the time. I’ve finally moved on. I have moved on. So, just… STOP IT!
Grrr….

No, I solemnly swear on my life, liberty, and happiness that the last time I thought of Brian as more than a friend, a crush, was before Homecoming, when Zach asked me out. Even now, I don’t publicly consider him to be more than a friend, and only readers of this blog and a few other close friends know that I do in fact have a crush on him. THAEG said that if she had to choose my boyfriend between Zach and Brian, she’d choose Zach 100%. BUT that would imply that Brian and I had dated/are dating/will date. And that is not at all the case.

I am not head over heals for Brian, and I do not wish to date him. I do like him and will admit, only to closest friends and to this blog, that I do have a crush on him. He IS cute, intelligent, commanding, inventive, and fun to be around, but I had obsessed over him last year. The seemingly-indelible infatuation had gone away when I started dating Zack. I don’t think that it is still there (I don’t feel the infatuation), but the fact that I have a crush on him is a good sign, I guess. IF dating was what I wanted to get out of the friendship. It’s like a childhood dream—You’d been there, but you can’t seem to go back. No, Brian and I can’t date. Not for a good, long time. I can’t get the magical feeling back. Apparently, that might still be with Zach. *sigh* Still, Zach thinks that I left him for Brian.

Yes, Zach, I was madly in love with someone while dating you. But his name was not Brian. It was… *dreamy breath* MACGYVER.
I love MacGyver. He’s the greatest. And I think I would marry him in a heartbeat, if that were at all possible *wink wink*. Too bad it isn’t. XD One of these blogs has “GOTTA” be about the magic and wonders of MacGyver.

Let’s start from the beginning; Apparently, in my first blog addressing Zach, I stated confidently that maybe it was better that I moved on, better that Zach and I broke up rather than being bound in a serious, committed relationship (that’s how it felt to me, and still feels). I declared that there were a lot of other fish in the sea, and that in general, I liked nerds. (I prefer to surround myself with people who are intelligent, whether inside the box or outside of it.) Through my short amount of time on earth, I’d had crushes on quite a few boys, all of which possessed intelligence or “nerdiness.” But my point in stating this: I should move on, and the fact that Zach and I are no longer together presents an opportunity. Don’t get me wrong, serious and committed relationships are not BAD, they’re not “inhibiting” as the word “bound” implies, but the fact is that I’m 16 going on 17, and I am not ready for a committed, long-lasting love knot. This is HIGH SCHOOL! It’s all a learning opportunity. One is NOT SUPPOSED to be in a SERIOUS relationship like this. In high school, this is supposed to be fun, free, and not stressful.

I don’t want to be in another Zach-like, serious relationship again for a good loooong time. That was really never what I wanted to get out of the relationship in the first place. Which brings the question—What do I want in a relationship? What do I want now? What do I want from Zach? What do I want from Brian?

Right now, I want to be free, be happy, be content staying all on my own (I don’t need a boyfriend in order to be happy. If anything, boyfriends kill my moods. And so does this constant bickering with Zach.) AND I want to flirt. A close friend, who HAS a boyfriend, says that she flirts a lot and that it isn’t a big deal. I want to flirt with Brian.

Am I being unfair to Brian? Does Brian hope to win my heart? He hugged me today (not for the first time), he gives me attention, and he listens to my rants. He tells me to calm down, to slow down, and he shakes his head disapprovingly at my stupidity. He is great, but I can’t date him. I told Brian today that Zach thinks that I broke up with Zach to be with him, and I told him that it’s totally not true. It bothered me that he didn’t seem surprised by this revelation into Zach’s thoughts or my hint that we won’t be dating, but Brian didn’t understand my infatuation with Zach in the first place. (Then again, he doesn’t understand much of anything I do. Oh, off topic;

Before, we discussed what Zach probably thinks about me. What about what Brian thinks about me—He thinks I’m crazy, and insane, but intelligent in my own, out-of-the-box way. He enjoys laughing at me and making fun of my obsessive rants when I don’t understand something (Zach, on the other hand, runs away whenever I rant. At least Brian is there, listening to what I have to say. We can’t blame him though, because he cares about me and doesn’t understand that he could easily bring me out of the rant. The rants are usually about grades or a concept that a teacher and I need to/have argued about.). Brian laughs at me, he makes fun of me, he pushes me around, he mocks me. He points out my problems and my issues, my stupidity, and then he just accepts it. Somehow, I don’t “put up with his abuses.” I like it because it’s Brian, honest and pure. He offends me, he laughs, he tells me how he sees things, he calls me names and accuses me of belonging in an asylum. He is real, though. He is true. And with his mocking and offenses, they seem to be in jest. He’s fun. )

I’m very content with my relationship with Brian as of now. We’re friends, but not too close. We mingle, we flirt, and we fight. It’s all good, and he is not an influence on my life the way Zach was/is. He considers me amusing, and I consider him a friend. We work on the robots together, and will continue the code together, as a team. It’s been that way since the beginning of freshman year, AND we still worked together during my relationship with Zach. He was still around me while I was dating Zach, but now the world’s attention has been brought to me with the male gender, and suddenly the world took notice of him. I don’t see a difference, but he’s more forward now that Zach is not my boyfriend. Other than that, there was no real change in our relationship. Zach thinks it took off. Really? I don’t see it. I don’t want to move forward, though. I’m content with the status quo.

As for Zach, I don’t want him to feel hurt about Brian being my friend. (For the record, I don’t want Brian to be hurt about just being my friend either.) But really, if we are to stay friends, we would need to FIDO—Forget It and Drive On. He needs to not spazz out (Heh, a word Brian used to describe me) because I like another guy, even though it is much too soon after my former relationship with him. Am I rebounding? Possibly that is what my CRUSH on Brian is, but there is no real difference in our relationship. Though my feelings for him could be a direct result of rebounding, there is no dating relationship in which to label “rebounding.”

Between Zach and Brian, I’m too tired to care right now. (A great crime of the heart—There would be no world problems if everybody cared.) I’m told it is very hard for a couple to become “just friends.” Many people have told me that it rarely ever works out. I hope that someday, Zach and I will have the same sort of relationship that I currently have with Vano. Vano and I ask pointed questions about the thoughts going through the heads of the opposite gender. We’re such mysteries to each other, that it works. I tell him how I would see things if I were the female that he wants to get into the head of, and I asked him many questions about Zach. Someday, Zach and I might be that open, that sincere, and that favorable to each other. But until then,
                                 Heck with boys.
                                                         They’re too much right now. And far too stressful.
                    I’m going to
                                                            FIDo,
                                                                   Be free,
                                                                                And Fly.

]]> Defeat of the Immune System urn:uuid:21a1e97d-9330-8523-000d-4c1eaff0f685 2008-03-12T19:34:35-04:00 It doesn’t happen. I do not “do” the sick thing. I do not become ill. I do not succumb to the evils of viral or bacterial supremacy. It doesn’t happen. I don’t get sick. Got it?

Hey, guess what?
I am.
Don’t tell anyone.

I won’t give you the specifics as to how bad I feel, but I will impart to you the fact that I am not incapacitated, consequently carrying on as if the illness does not exist. The world is not allowed to know that I am sick. (So, ironically, I post it on a blog? :S ) I have special ticks that hint at physical “not-wellness.” I like to scrunch myself up, arms taught and straight, and place my head low between my shoulders. (I do this when I’m cold, too.) My steps are delicate rather than purposeful, and my gate is slower unless I’m concentrating on it. THAEGish says I wobble and pass my head from shoulder to shoulder, but I’ve never been aware of that. I also become increasingly sensitive to the ticks of others around me, noticing things I’ve never before noticed. (And sometimes when I’m sick, I have trouble focusing. But not always.) And most importantly, I proclaim that “I am FINE.” Which is the lie of all lies.

The word “Fine” to me means anything but “Fine.” Fine, according to Encyclopedia Britannica, means “to one's liking : agreeable.” To the rest of the world, it means that one is alright, not incredibly super but not peeved either. You’re “fine.” When I use the word, it means one of three things.
1) I have no idea how I am, and I won’t be bothered to formulate a response for you.
2) I do NOT want you to know how I am! (If I don’t want you to know, I’m probably not good at all.)
3) My state of being has nothing to do with what I’m thinking about, and is totally irrelevant. I either want to talk to you about something of extreme importance or I am avoiding something (and consequently shall be ambiguous in all of my conversation with you. Nothing will be specific, unless I want to talk about it.) How I “am” is of the least concern.

In the case of sickness, it is obviously the case of #2. I don’t want to let the world know that I am sick, so I will resolutely reassure everyone that I am FINE. It actually should raise red flags because I NEVER use the word to describe my being unless it is one of the three conditions stated above. (But no one except THAEG is that observant and intent on my behaviors.) Most often, if not almost always, my usage is in line with #2.

My immune system is currently being heavily taxed, battling a virus I believed to be defeated, but rose up again anyway. It is the same “sickness” that caused me to lose my voice for Callbacks to the Spring Musical. With exasperation, I cry, “NO! It is too EARLY to catch a second ‘sickness!’ I could not possibly be sick sooo soon! I cannot be SICK!!!”

It is true that I have a VERY strong immune system constantly taking the worst of abuses from my poor choices, from being coat-less on a frigid day to swimming in retention basins full of mud and a strange bubbling thing on the far end... I can honestly say that my immune system is strong, and that I truly do not get sick often. The fact that I was just sick a few weeks ago prompts me to worry why I am sick again so soon. Normally, sicknesses are few and far between. On this premise I base my mendacity of immunity to all diseases.

I don’t get sick.

As of now, my immune system is failing me. The germs are winning, and I am feeling the effects of that battle. It’s a pyrric victory for them, though---They may have won the battle, but they won’t win the war. I will win. I will conquer. I am struck down, but not destroyed. I’ve been blessed beyond the curse…

I will survive.

~Goo

PS. Key club elections were today. We learn the results tomorrow. I shall devote an entire entry to Key Club tomorrow. Watch for it, but don’t wait. I want to take the world by surprise! (Sorry, I got caught up in the moment—That line’s in my “about me” section, at the end.)
Remind me to address OGT’s as well.

]]> I owe you all an update urn:uuid:4c8c4b56-0882-17e8-1e06-d92374da919b 2008-03-11T21:10:06-04:00
Today was not a good day for me. I don't believe in bad days, but this one sure had a negative feel to it. Because we had a snow day yesterday, I figured we would follow Monday's OGT mixed-up schedule. BUT we followed Tuesday's, and consequently, I did not think I needed my violin for Orchestra. I was wrong... And without music. After the OGT test, I was "out of it," but the test was very STUPID. The questions were worded strangely, and some of them were downright strange. One of the questions was something along the lines of, "Here are two shapes. Put a net between them." Then the multiple choices showed multiple configurations of the shapes. The question was VERY easy, but WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?!?!
Some of them were so easy, that I had to double think myself. It's similar to the question, "How many teeth does an anteater have?" ZERO. But one must think about it...

THAEG, my best and worst friend, came over yesterday. She had a snow day, too, but we were both very surprised about the snow day. I did not anticipate it. We listened to love songs and talked. Apparently she completely forgot about our "flirt" fight, and I'm glad because I've come to agree with her. (She said I was unhappy with Zach, so I go out and flirt with other guys. I told her that Zach understands and that it's none of her business, and it all escalated from there.) She's been really nice to me after the Zach break-up. She said something along the lines of, "I don't know exactly what it feels like to go through this, and I know you think that this is what I wanted. I just wanted to tell you that I'm here, like I am on the trails, on the campouts, and on the life-risking situations. I'm here." She was referring to the time when we were trail buddies, and I gave her a hug. She can be really sweet when she cares. One of these blog entries need to be about her and our messed up relationship of friendship. She really is great, but misguided AND very stubborn. A lot like me--misguided and stubborn... We're always fighting, and yet neither of us seem to care that we are. Usually, our fights culminate and end based on the next big thing. As if we just forget it and drive on--- F.I.D.O. ---Forget It and Drive On. (I definitely need to adress her in a blog sometime soon.)

Zach talked to me today about our relationship. Apparently he thinks that I broke up with him to go out with Brian. This hurts, and he has no idea how badly. I'm wondering if I should limit my contact with Brian for the sake of Zach's friendship. He thinks that our fight was part of a plot to break up with him to go out with Brian. :'( Zach, are you really so hardheaded? BUT I'm wondering why he cares so much--Is it maybe that he's jealous?

IF I had to attempt to find a nefarious scheme within my relationship with Brian, I would guess that it would be to make Zach jealous, NOT to break up with him. Yes, I know, I still had feelings for Brian at bad times, even now is not good. BUT does he forget that I'm female, with emotions that I can suppress but not control; with hormones that are haywire; and a healthy, teenage craving for romance? Is it really a crime to like someone?

It causes me to wonder if I should just limit contact with everybody. Stop talking to Brian, it puts stress on Zach. Stop talking to Zach, it puts stress on our shakey friendship. Stop talking to THAEGish, it prohibits fighting. Stop talking to parents, they know so little of what goes through my head. I could find a reason to cut myself off from the rest of the world, become a hermit, and never cause stress to anyone. BUT really, what does that accomplish? How would that HELP matters? It wouldn't. It'd simply be running away from a problem. And that doesn't work. (Besides, I'm not capable of being a hermit. It's too lonely and isolated.)

Zach doesn't think that I like friendship. He bases that on my relationship with THAEGishness, and the fact that he was one of the closest friends I ever had. (I know that sentence is past tense, but frankly, I'm not sure what tense it should be in. I don't want to lose Zach as a friend.)

As for the friendship with Zach, I think we need to FIDO our fight. "Forgetting" is not erasing it from memory, but not letting it influence you in the future. Forget It, Zach, Let's DRIVE ON. I am not going to let the drama or the fighting influence me or my emotions tomorrow. I just hope that he feels the same... Let's let it go.

On the other hand, Key club elections are tomorrow... I'm so nervous! I'll update you on that later.
Tchao!
]]> What happened to Spring? urn:uuid:14e32c59-c35b-474f-cf93-ac2283d22da4 2008-03-07T17:20:03-05:00
This past week had been beautiful. The snow had melted, the grass seemed to be greener than before, and it seemed as though spring would breathe its relief upon the snow-covered trees. Newness and serenity had taken to the once-frozen earth, thawing an excited emotion into the natural world and humanity alike. Spring's shy demeanor would peek out and bring joy and newness to the land.

I did not take advantage of the good weather--Rather than taking escapades in the neighborhood or walking my dog, I stayed inside and concentrated on schoolwork. My logic was that the spring would stay, and I could always enjoy it later. There was ALWAYS tomorrow.

I was wrong. Today, even as I type, we recieved a snowstorm, thanks to Mother Nature's wry sense of humor. :P It blew full-force during mid-day, and all extra curricular activities, including the Fish Fry at which I intended to volunteer AND the OMEA choir contest in Avon. Many people are extremely happy for this turn of events, including Zach, Anne, and Brian. As for my feelings toward this, I am slightly disappointed. I was looking forward to the OMEA contest, and I wanted to meander in the wooded areas behind the park. It's so beautiful there, especially when Blue Lake (the "name" of a retention/offrun basin) fills to the top with melted snow. I could have enjoyed the weather, but I missed my chance.

The snow has returned, in all its fury.
Well, I might as well go outside and build a snowman. The snow won't last either. XD
Live life while possible, but let life live you all the rest.]]> Hatred, Love, and Liberation urn:uuid:e528248d-00bd-98ce-fba0-170830dc35fc 2008-03-06T20:02:20-05:00
I was wrong in my beliefs about his total character (some of it is still 100% true, but he's NO SAINT!), BUT I was also wrong in my method to acquire such information. In a nutshell, this is what took place;

1.) He found my blog here, and he read every word. He told me that he had experience with blogging, and that he deleted his.
2.) He told me that he changed his password and cleaned his in-box once a year, and after we officially disbanded, he stated that this task was accomplished. I knew his “old” e-mail password because when his Internet was not working, I helped him check his e-mails over the telephone on more than one occasion.

3.) I did not trust him, something that I accused him of not doing before our break-up. I attempted to log into his e-mail, to see if his password was changed. It wasn’t. He lied to me.
4.) An e-mail caught my eye. I swear I did not premeditate the action of looking for blog-related mail, but even if I did (Zach would not trust me if I told him that this was not my intention), it matters little. There was an e-mail from a major blog site—This was the e-mail that led me to HIS blog, the one supposedly deleted.

Zach’s blog shattered the illusion and the sappy affection that I had previously held for him. He was no saint; the blog revealed that he did possess the angry emotions of hatred and disdain for another individual. I won’t go into detail because I do not write for character assassinations, and I most definitely do not want to assassinate his. But frankly, if I did not know him personally and had to analyze him based on blog alone, I would have derived the conclusion that he was a condescending, haughty jerk. Was this really the guy that I could not get over?!?

Zach, you really should have deleted that blog… But I’m glad you did not because now I can say with assurance of mind and heart, that I am over you. Goodbye, Zach the boyfriend. Hello, Zach the “mere” friend. Finally, with relief I proclaim that the storm of break up is over for me. Life can FINALLY go on.

I’m now not convinced that he has settled into the “mere” friendship routine—Today he told me that in the Key Club elections, he was not sure whether or not he should vote for me rather than Matt. I know that elections should be based more on capabilities and qualities than on the popularity contest that it happens to morph into, BUT this shows that he held a double standard for me and is quite unfair toward me.---Freshman year he grew upset with me for nominating Nicole for an Orchestra position that he was running for in band. I knew that they would not be competing with each other (band and orchestra positions are separate), but he did not know that and rebuked me to the point where I felt like a traitor. They weren’t competing, but he expected me to support him as friends do. WHY IS HE NOT SUPPORTING ME NOW?!? Sure, we broke up, but WE'RE STILL FRIENDS! Can't Zach support me the way he expected me to support him?

Double standard…
But there is a “benefit of the doubt” that I could give him—He may be attempting to “pump out information.” He thinks he does that, but never quite mastered the technique of acquiring information from me. He wants to hear my speech, which he can hear with everyone else on WEDNESDAY, the elections. I’ll tell you how the election goes.

With all of these dreary post-break-up matters, there is some happy news in my love life. Brian “flirted” with me today. (I’ll use that word for lack of coming up with a better one.) It feels GREAT to like someone without being hung up over someone else. I love the closure in that I know for sure that Zach and I will never get back together. For now, I’ll stay content single and free—Besides, I can’t date anyone so soon. That would be known as “rebounding,” and it always ends badly. I do not want to rebound, but heal. And I want to flirt with Brain. He's really intriguing. (But I can crush on Brian in the meantime. XD Eventually, one or two of these blog posts will be about him. BUT it's a bit too soon to allow myself to fall head over heals for another male.)

Life is good.
Zach is not.
And the world keeps spinning on, with me along for the ride. 

               Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more;
               Men were deceivers ever;
               One foot in sea and one on shore,
               To one thing constant never;
               Then sigh not so,
               But let them go,
               And be you blithe and bonny;
               Converting all your sounds of woe
                Into "Hey nonny, nonny, nonny, nonny."

                Sing no more ditties, sing no more
                Of matters so dull and heavy;
                The fraud of men was ever so,
                Since summer first was leavy.
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into, 'Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny, nonny,
                                                     nonny, nonny."
XD


]]> Telephone Antipathy (Part II of the Zach urn:uuid:46af6fef-3a18-abfd-5181-b43d6676cc20 2008-03-02T14:50:27-05:00 I miss the telephone conversations most.

Since two weeks ago, when Zach and I started fighting, my heart leaps every time the phone rings. It MUST be Zach! It HAS to be! Why I think it could be him, I haven’t a clue. But I hope anyway, and each time my hopes are dashed. Most times, it’s not even for me. Despite the fact that he never called me DURING our relationship (see part 1, “When hearts and minds diverge,” he never took the initiative anyway), I don’t know why I think he’ll call now. He won’t.

Before Zach “entered” my life, I believed that telephones were evil. They ALWAYS rang for YOU while in the middle of something that should not be disturbed--- you are in the middle of writing a great story/song/poem; or you just trained your dog to “stay,” and the phone breaks the moment or concentration of your pooch, or crashes your muse. Or maybe a novel spellbinds you, and the phone breaks the suspense. That harmless-looking but insidious device has destroyed more than its fair share of life’s mental chocolate.

Zach and I would spend an average of 2 hours on the phone per day. We would spend time together, half of a mile apart. We did not go out together all that often because both of us led hectic lives; the phone was our bonding time. (This is how our relationship became too serious—instead of having fun and enjoying each other’s company, we talked about serious things, like school, grades, abortion, politics, etc. Our relationship grew very DEEP. ) We did spend time together in school, but during that time, Zach would “take advantage of the time,” and do his homework, half-ignoring me. Most of our bonding time was on the phone.

That evil, wonderful, magical telecommunications device.
Oh, hey, guess what? The phone just rang. It was my uncle, wanting to talk to Mom. Not Zach. Hmm…

I called Zach on Tuesday. It was a business call having to do with Key Club elections (He’s running for president, and I intended to run for 1st vice, but may end up running for treasurer.) When he answered, he wasn’t happy to talk to me the way he used to sound. He was suspicious, and it hurt. Realization washed over me; we’ve broken up and I’m not exactly supposed to call him. We decided to remain close friends, so phone calls wer ALLOWED, but that does not mean I am supposed to do so. The calling was strange. And it felt wrong.
He sounded suspicious and it hurt; it was then that I realized that I’d been HOLDING IN the events of the past week—that we may be “just friends,” but the storm of the break up is not over. It does not mark the end. Tearfully, I wrote a song. I won’t sing the song for you or write musical notation for it, but here are the lyrics;

I long to feel normal now,
But "normal's" out of reach.
Instead of feeling normal (fine),
I don't get much sleep.
You're gone, that's good.
This song, it should.
But it does not mark the end, oh, no.
It does not mark the end.
I thought I was done thinking 'bout you,
But still you're on my mind.
I'm done with my sick obsession,
But somehow I still find,