Desperate

I'm desperate. I'm desperate to help somebody, to do something, to stop the way I hurt other humans and the environment.

I want to stop global warming, or, as it's now being called, climate change. I don't want to have to see another clip of a polar bear struggling to get onto an ice floe because it's habitat is literally melting away.

I want to stop the Canadian seal hunt. I don't want to see the sea in northern Canada turn red from the blood of baby seals.

I want to stop deforestation. I don't want to travel state to state, country to country, and never see anything but cities and highways.

There are so many things I want to do, so many ways I want to help, and I don't know how to, or if I can. I don't want to do these things to get my name in the papers, to be remembered. I want to do it just to make things better.

And, in time, I know that if I don't help, and if I live selfishly, I'll never be satisifed with myself. I like to think of myself as an extraordinary person with extraordinary needs, beliefs, and goals. These are things I must do. It's not a desire, it's not a want, it's a complete and utterly heart-wrenching need.

I can't live in a world with people and animals who are oppressed, who can't live because, somehow, they were left out when the food, water, jobs, and homes were given out. How does it end up like that? How can people standing on the sidelines watch things turn out the way they do? Why doesn't everybody feel like this?

Why does it seem that nobody else cares?

There are organizations that put animal abusers in jail. There are charities that give clothes to humans living in poverty. But those groups care about their cause, and their cause only - they fight for government funding because they think that what they are doing is more important. Why can't it all be important? Not just to make it more simple, but because it all is. Every little thing that is corrupt and terrible about the world that I have no choice but to live in is as important as everything else.

Please, I'm begging anybody, everybody who reads this, tell me I'm not insane. Tell me that what I'm typing right now is right, is true. There is something wrong, many things wrong, things that need to be fixed. It's not all in my head; it's right here, right now. Please.

Nekked

Why is it that whenever I'm angry I end up half-naked? Not with anybody. God, no. You know me, Little Miss Chastity. I just end up in my bra and trousers... or pants and shirt... alone. By myself. Seething.

This time I'm angry because my mom's being a WHORE. For no apparent reason. She says, "I come home ready to take you to the sports store and then to go shopping so you can have a sleepover with Jess but instead I find your shit all over the place . . . It will be a cold day in hell before Jess ever comes over here." I think the "shit" she referred to was the remnants of my Maine trip - a vest, a bike helmet, a beach bag, the backpack that I had JUST unpacked, and my camera case. The camera case that SUCKS because it let my camera get wet.

So Jess invited me to go over there and I haven't asked yet because my mom will have a bitch fit (see the movie "White Chicks" and you'll get it) and I just asked and she said no, what a ho. What a ho... for sho.

Then to cool off I went on a nice long bike ride around our cute little village... and when I got home I was so hot I ripped my shirt off. So now I'm wearing pink cut-off tights, polka-dot shorts, a plaid headband, and my bra. Which is white with a bow in the middle.

Listen up, people

Okay, people, here's the deal. I'm a self-professed nerd, and my geekdom needs your help. Click on the link below, sign up, and then never play again. It gives me "money" to buy stuff on my account. So please do it and tell all of your friends to do it BUT IT HAS TO BE TO THAT LINK. Okay? Okay.

Good work, people. Take five.

http://friends.stardoll.com/r/d3cfe41c84671029879f

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeep, you knew I was gonna

I have decided to battle my fatigue in an epic war and post on my epic and wondrous fairy tale of a blog.

Is the fatigue that evident?

I've been back from Maine (where I went with Corinne and her family) for a while now, and I've been back from camp for an even longer time. I don't remember I single thing I've done for the past... what, four weeks? Well, okay I remember some stuff.

I remember baby-blue tee shirts, weird teeth, cool hair, dirt paths, mustaches, shmen, Mario-impersonators, provocative dances, cheers, gravel, bleeding, a white boob, white elbows, pigtails, a corset, broom-twirling, clean toilets, dirty panties, chipmunks, and that's about it. That's what I remember from Camp Blue Bay, a.k.a. Girl Scout Camp, a.k.a. Hot Loser Chicks' Convention.

I mean, seriously. I got back from camp, and I go up to my brother, and I say, "Man, Steve, there are so many hot girls at CBB. You'd be in freaking HEAVEN."

Plucky plucky.

From Maine, I remember rocks, frogs, water, camera, spaghetti, delicious hot dogs, knee braces, a quad, moose torsos, moose poop, construction guys, rocks, abandoned houses, beer, snoring, trundlety, flat black things, leeches, and Mrs. Budweiser. And, no, you won't get an explanation for any of that.

I started bleeding today in Best Buy because I scratched a bug bite (a Maine momento) open, and I bled all over EVERYTHING, including my mom. Funnily enough, I didn't realize it until my mom noticed blood all over her arm. She dragged me to the bathroom, where she washed her arm and I washed mine, then she used a "young wives' trick" on it - put a tiny piece of toilet/tissue paper over the wound and it will stop the bleeding. Apparently she discovered this as a young woman after getting sloshed with her girlfriends in a pre-going-out scenario, and then shaving her legs and pretty much tearing them open.

I went to Latin dance lessons with Jess, Steve, and his friends Maggie and... and... Katie? Is that right? Nononono, of COURSE not. Good thing she probably won't read this, seeing as we only met today and it'd be kind of awkward if she knew about my life and I pretty much only knew she was wearing a blue skirt and she looked nice and thin in her white shirt.

Back to the dance, it was SO MUCH FUN!!!! The main instructor, Jose (accent-e), is the most awesome man ever to grace the face of this earth. He's incredible! I wonder if he's gay. He looked kind of gay, but he's also really sexy, so I don't know. He's so comfortable with the women, it makes me think he's gay, but then he'll flash a smile and he'll be totally seductive.

Well, anyway, the class had everybody, old and young, male and female, and I actually got a, "Nice, very nice," from Jose (accent-e) by the end of the lesson and a raised eyebrows and shocked expression from the other instructor... eh... I want to say Carmen? Maybe. But the point is, I sucked at the beginning, and I was good at the end. And it was SO MUCH FUN!!!

I want to DANCE with somebody and it was FUN and the old man was suprisingly GOOD and three of the guys SUCKEd and one was was kind of cute and YOUNG and Jose (accent-e) was SEXY and the other was my brother so I won't comment. Damn, that was really fun. I want to get Mike and Pat to come with Jess and I next time.

I think I'm going to a Latin concert on the 31st, so I can use my new skills. You know, guys like girls with skills. You know, like nunchuck skills... man, that was lame. I should be knifed in a dark alley by a woman in a black jumpsuit who leaped down from the top of the building with the black pieces of fabric she uses as wings flapping around her.

My life should be a movie. It'd be so freaking funny. I'd watch it.

Speaking, or writing, of movies, my brother went to seee "Snakes on a Plane" without me and I REALLY want to see it and he made me angry so now I'll watch the Transformers movie before him and I'll watch the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie before him so THERE.