The Second Coming of the Breakfast Club

The second (I think) dream I had was a Breakfast Club type of situation. Only we were in a giant library and their was more then 5 people. There was geeks and nerds (yes theres a difference) Princesses and princes, bad boys, jocks every kind of person stereotype you could think of. We were all sitting at tables, and no one was suppose to move from their seats. That wouldn't be too much of a problem if it worn't for this LOUD ringing booming obnoxiously throughout the entire place. So I (in a Ramona V. Flowers inspired look) Got up and marched to where the noise was coming from. I climbed on top of a table and started throwing things off of the shelves. Then there it was again, the ringing. I sharply turned to the right and there it was, a red box. I tore it off the wall, and. . . .and inside that box was. . . a phone?

And then I woke up and realized that I was dreaming about my alarm clock

When I got scared, the Rain Man would come and sing to me

I had a dream like Rainman, well it reminded me of Rainman. That in a way would seem like I completely ripped off Rainman, if I was in fact trying to publish this story. There was this mentally challenged man, more autistic I think, then anything else. I was there, playing the sympathetic neighbor, to the Tom Cruise type, brother character of this man. He had the strangest, modern, even futuristic apartment, with cramped hallways and a large kitchen. And there was this bathroom (yes I kid you not) that he guarded. There was this crazy vault like door that he wouldn’t even allow us to touch. Anyway, one day the Tom Cruise character, not only touched the door, but somehow got into that room, seeing that it was a bathroom (now I have no idea what was so important/sacred about this bathroom, I just know it meant a lot to Rainman) Well when Rainman found TC, he was NOT happy, he threw a fit! [You know now that I think of it Rainman was more strange, quirky then actually mentally challenged, I actually think it changed through out the dream, and as of right now we’re just going to think of a tortured (turned crazy) old man type without actually being an old man (maybe even Boo Radley type)] Once again ANYWAY, Rainman pulled TC out of there, closed the door and TC muttered something about their parents. [Apparently something of significance happened to their parents in a bathroom (once again I would like to point out the Rainman reference) man I am an unoriginal dreamer] Well in any case, a fight broke out, well as much of a fight as two very poorly adjusted brothers, one with some kind of mental, block, and the other some kind of ex-jock, so as you probably could have guessed it wasn’t a fair fight. Especially considering Rainman was just defending his territory where as TC was just taking out his anger, which isn’t fair. Well I step in, or me in the story/dream thing, and break up the right and comfort Rainman, and completely maddog TC. The whole left side of Rainman’s face was red and starting to swell, so I sat him down and applied ice. After that I’m not really sure what happened because I found myself in another dream.

3 - 18

3 hours and 18 minutes for the love of god this day is lasting FOREVER

Lingering. . .

I don’t know if it’s the lingering Nightquil or sickness, but I feel very tired and light headed right now. I’m off balance and having trouble keeping my head up. My throat doesn’t hurt anymore, it’s a lot easier to breathe. I’m not sneezing as much, but I am coughing twice as much. I still have no appetite, but I still get that empty, black hole feeling when I take my medicine. I say I’m getting better, but being out of the house and around people, really makes me wonder if I am better at all.

Ramona V. Flowers hair cut. . . bad idea?

Ramona V. Flowers hair cut. . . bad idea?

Answer here

Dream A Little Dream

Something strange comes to mind, a dream, a story I made up when I was younger. The Shadow Creatures, the shadows from my windows and my tired eyes playing tricks on me would paint these strange shadows on the ceiling, and sometimes I swear they would move. In my story, or my dream (I’m not really sure which) the Shadow Creatures would steal your dreams, leaving you with only nightmares. You were most vulnerable when your mind was in neverland. The place between dreaming and being awake, the place where you can still remember your dreams, the time when it’s hard to tell weather or not you’ve fallen asleep or not. The only way to protect yourself from the Shadow Creatures, was to stay alert in neverland, which is not an easy thing to do. Hiding under your covers and hanging dream catchers, could also help, but the more you would fight them, the more intrigued they would become. It wasn’t until I realized Shadow Creatures true weakness, that I could get a good, easy night sleep. They cannot see their reflection, if they are to see themselves in the mirror they would get trapped. So I hung a string of triangle shaped glass above my bed, and slept with a hand mirror under my pillow. It wasn’t until I caught one, trapped it forever behind the glass, that the creatures realized I wasn’t afraid of them anymore. They realized that no one, no thing, big or small was going to keep me from dreaming.

Sick and Tired

I am tired and sick. Literally. I can’t even walk up the stairs without getting lightheaded. I barely slept last night. I was having trouble breathing. It’s times like these I wish I had a boyfriend, someone to force into taking care of me, even if it’s just on the phone, someone to do all the talking and read to me as I fall asleep. *sigh* A girl can dream can’t she?

Curiouser and Curiouser

I had a dream that Gwar was in my living room, and I gave Oderus Urungus a glass of water. I’m not sure what it means, but it was strange, even in the dream I was sitting there thinking, this is strange. Though it makes me wonder what they all look like without the costumes, although I’m sure it’s like Rey Mysterio without the mask, completely disappointing and almost silly. He looks like some random little Mexican kid, he doesn’t even look his age, and he certainly does not match his body.

Shadow Dancer

I use to be Tiny Dancer and everything that the song implies. Now I feel like a shadow, a ghost. Passing though life in the darkness, while everyone lives in the light.

Follow my 365 progress at http://365project.org/sjjh/365

In Vino Veritas

by Edgar Lara

I didn't mean to forget about posting, it has been a crazy week and Saturday proved to be incredibly stressful. Thanks so much to Edgar and Nancy for making my midnight pancake run fun, and interesting.

Tunnel Vision

Ashley Melissa Peralta
The strongest and most loving, kind, passionate person I know. A better title for this would be Superwoman

Speechless

Today I have no words, only this:

Bright Eyes

Elijah Lorie Peralta, the love of everyone's life

Follow my 365 photo project here: http://365project.org/sjjh/profile

365 Project - Day 1

I decided, for my first picture to upload the first picture I took. I used my video camera (Daydream) because I don’t have a regular camera. It’s blurry, I know, but it’s the first one I took. Actually I did take a about 10 pictures, but I actually liked this one. I don't know why, I just do :)

MOVIES!

This is it folks, THE list of movies that I've seen and liked (or loved)

(500) Days of Summer
28 Days Later
3:10 To Yuma (Both)
300
40-Year-Old Virgin
A Beautiful Mind
A Bugs Life
A Clockwork Orange
A History of Violence
A Scanner Darkly
A Serious Man
A Single Man
A.I. Artificial Intelligence
Ace Ventura: Pet Detective
Across the Universe
Almost Famous
Amélie
American Beauty
American Graffiti
American History X
An American in Paris
An Education
Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy
Annie Hall
As Good As It Gets
Avatar
Back to the Future Triligy
Batman
Batman and Robin
Batman Begins
Batman Forever
Batman Returns
Beavis and Butthead Do America
Big Fish
Black Snake Moan
Bowling for Columbine
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Brokeback Mountain
But I’m A Cheerleader
Casablanca
Casino Royale
Cats & Dogs
Changeling
Chasing Amy
Chicago
Children of Men
Chinatown
Close Encounters of the Third Kind
Closer
Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs
Constantine
Crash (2005)
Cruel Intentions
Dawn of the Dead
Dazed and Confused
Dead Poet Society
Despicable Me
Devil's Rejects
District 9
Dogma
Donnie Darko
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
Duck Soup
Dumb and Dumer
Ed Wood
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Fantastic Mr. Fox
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Fight Club
Finding Nemo
Finding Nemo
Finding Neverland
Forrest Gump
Full Metal Jacket
Funny People
Garden State
Girl, Interrupted
Gone With The Wind
Gone with the Wind
GrindHouse
Hannibal
Harry Potter 12345
Harsh Times
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
House of 1000 Corpses
How to Train Your Dragon
I Am Sam
Idiocracy
Imitation of Life (Both)
Inception
Inglourious Basterds
Jane Austen Book Club
Jarhead
Jaws
Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back
Jerry Mcguire
Jersey Girl
Juno
Kill Bill Volume 1&2
King Kong (2005)
Knocked Up
Lemony Snicketts: A Series Of Unfortunate Events
Liar Liar
Lilo & Stich
Little Miss Sunshine
Live Free or Die Hard
Lord of the Rings Trilogy
Lord of War
Lost in Translation
Matchstick Men
Meet The Parents
Meet The Robinsons
Memento
Milk
Modern Times
Monster
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Moulin Rouge!
Mr. & Mr. Smith
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington
Munich
My Best Friends Wedding
Night of the Living Dead
Nosferatu
Office Space
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
Pan's Labyrinth
Phone Booth
Pirates of The Caribbean: At Words End
Pirates of The Caribbean: Curse Of The Black Pearl
Planet of The Apes (1968)
Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Shappire
Psycho
Pulp Fiction
Rain Man
Ratatouille
Rebel Without a Cause
Red Dragon
Reefer Madness (both)
Reservoir
Reservoir Dogs
Revolutionary Road
Rocky
Roman Holiday
Romeo + Juliet
Saved!
Saving Private Ryan
Saw 1&2
Say Anything
School of Rock
Se7en
Serendipity
Shaun of the Dead
Sherlock Holmes
Signs
Sin City
Slumdog Millionaire
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut
Spanglish
Spiderman 1&2
Spirited Away
Star Trek
Star Wars Episode I: The Pahtom Menace
Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones
Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith
Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back
Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi
Stranger than Fiction
Sunset Blvd.
Super Size Me
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1&2
Terminator 2: Judgment Day
Terminator 2: Judgment Day
Thank You For Smoking
The Apartment
The Brothers Bloom
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
The Departed
The Emperor’s New Groove
The Godfather Part I & II
The Grapes of Wrath
The Great Dictator
The Green Mile
The Hurt Locker
The Illusionist
The Incredibles
The Inside Man
The Jacket
The Jane Austen Book Club
The Last King of Scotland
The Lion King
The Lord Of The Rings: Fellowship Of The Ring
The Matrix
The Nightmare Before Christmas
The Notebook
The Number 23
The Prestige
The Princess Bride
The Producers (Both)
The Professional
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
The Sandlot
The Science of Sleep
The Shawshank Redemption
The Shining
The Silence of the Lambs
The Sixth Sense
The Village
The Virgin Suicides
The Wedding Singer
The Wizard of Oz
The Wrestler
There Will Be Blood
There's Something about Mary
Titanic
To Kill a Mockingbird
Tombstone
Tootsie
Toy Story
Unbreakable
Unfaithful
Up in the Air
V For Vendetta
Vanilla Sky
Waitress
Walk The Line
Wall-E
Wanted
Watchmen
Wedding Crashers
West Side Story
Wicker Man (orginal)
Wicker Park
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
X2 X- Men United
X-Men
Zombeland

(List is updated every-so-often)

365

I have officially signed up for the 365 Project, I’m just not sure when I am going to start. I was thinking about waiting until Monday just so I can start at the beginning of the week, but that seems kind of silly. Besides if I don’t start now I might never actually get this thing started. It would be nice to actually have a camera, I don’t want to lug my video camera around all the time. Although maybe I should, I could start the 365 moving picture project. A video a day, filmed, edited and uploaded. Video blog, unedited moment in your day, a silent movie, a music video, anything and everything you could possibly record. Hm I am very interested in this now. . . so what do you think? If I were to start this project, would you start it with me? Would you join in the recording and posting of random life moments? This would be a great time to own one of those flip cameras. Too bad it only holds about 2 hours of space, but I guess the point of that camera is to just flip it out when something, silly, random or wonderful happens. Sill, I don’t know, I really wanted one for a while, I even went as far as to create a design online. I used that picture from spring break, the orange one. It would have been really neat to have that picture on a camera.

Anyways, 365 Project, I am hereby, officially taking part in it. I am not a photographer, but it wouldn’t hurt to have something to do everyday.

Also, what do you think of the 365 Video Project? Maybe we can start the 52 V-project, a video a week. Once a week might be easier, more fun for us editing perfectionists. Too much, not enough? Let me know.

AHHHH!

For the love of something it is only 11:32

BLANK

I have nothing to say, nothing to do, nothing to think. I have no feelings, no thoughts no ideas. It took all of my strength just to write these few sentences.

SHHHHHHHHHHH!

The guys are playing very whiny, very loud country music, right underneath our window. . . it is very distracting.

Dream Within A Dream

I am a fan of impressionism, more importantly, Salvador Dali, even though this is a pedestrian way of saying it. He paints the subconscious mind. He paints dreams. Sometimes I wonder if I came up with an idea, or Salvador Dali came up with it for me. I dream of elephants, though they are not quite the creatures of Dali’s Temptation of Saint Anthony. Still, they are not quite like normal elephants either. They’re skin is like a movie screen. Not that they’re skin is colored or moving, but acting as a giant projector screen. I watch them from a distance the closer I get the more their size frightened me. Not that my size, or the size of a real elephant matters, these elephants are much, much bigger. One gets too close, to the point where I can feel his rough skin against my cheek. I don’t dare reach out and touch him; I just take a step back to see the pictures on his side. They are of me, moving memories of my childhood. Or I assume it’s me, I can see myself, but I can’t remember the memories being played. Things like bath times, and storybooks, car trips and theme parks. Being projected from nowhere. I can see the light of the projector coming from nowhere. I’m not sure if it is out of fear, or love of the unknown that I stay, unmoved. I sit in the sand and watch the elephants pass as my life, literally flashes before my eyes. I watch in awe, not only of the creatures, but myself, and that moment I realize I was in fact, dreaming. It breaks my heart to know I can’t stay here, but I’m not sure I want to. It’s a conflicting bittersweet feeling. Then I wake up. Like I always do. If you knew me, you wouldn’t be surprised to hear I dream of, what I consider, my favorite animal, but I don’t usually dream about animals. Strange, considering that I practically grew up in an animal shelter. The only reason I bring up Dali, is because that’s how my dreams feel to me, at least some of the time. Sometimes they feel real. Almost ridiculously so, almost to the point where I couldn’t tell if I were awake or not anymore, which makes real life, reality, all the harder to bear. I am in some way, I think, afraid of reality. Reality is work, while dreams are easy, even when they’re not, because you always wake up.

are you mad at me for leaving?

Yes and no. I was, but I think I was more angry at things falling apart (which they did, completely) but I can't stay mad at you. You have your own troubles and your own things that you have to deal with. I understand. I don't hold a grude and I would still love to be concidered your friend.

Ask me anything

365 Project

http://365project.org/

So what do you think? should I do it?

Pessimistic Road

I always do something weird when I get a good night sleep. And by ‘good nights sleep’ I mean the full 8 hours. And by weird I mean, I woke up this morning under the scratchy blanket, with the sheet all balled up next to me. Another thing that kind of annoys me, even though I got this great night of sleep, I still woke up late. With only about 10 minutes to spear. Wtf! Honestly, I was awake at 7, 7:30 and even 8, but instead of actually getting myself out of bed, washing my face, actually wearing make-up or fixing my hair. I get up at 8:22 rush out of bed turn on the straightener, brush my teeth, run some gel through my hair, put on some presentable clothes (considering I was wearing a tiny black nighty) then I quickly straighten my hair, all in less then 12 minutes. You see if I had gotten up at 7, 7:30 or even 8, I might have had time to notice the stain on my shirt, last nights leftover make-up smudges and I would have time to wash last night’s shame off my face. (That’s a story I can’t even bring myself to tell) Oy to the vey, it’s one of those days. Welcome to pessimistic road everyone. Bring all you’ve got folks, because no matter how much you talk yourself up, we will tear you down.

Pathetic, Self-Pity Bull Shit

I want to cry. I am sitting here and involuntarily trying to make myself cry. (Which I know sounds like a contradiction, but) I literally cannot cry right now, but I want to. I feel like I am at war with myself. I want to cry, but I can’t, I literally had to shake myself out of it. I don’t know why I am trying to cry. Maybe it’s because I’m tired. Maybe it’s because I am so fucking lonely. I wouldn’t know, all I know is that this pathetic, self-pity bull shit needs to stop.

Trivial Talk With Shelby: Throw Up

I was just thinking about throwing up. I was thinking about the things that are easy (or at least easier) to throw up. Like root beer, which tastes the same coming up (only warmer, and flat.) Therefore if you know you are going to throw up here are something’s to consider. (By knowing I mean because you are sick, not because you have an eating disorder) (if you do have an eating disorder I cannot condone it, and in fact I completely disapprove) (not that it really matters what I think, but well there it is.) ANYWAY here are a few things not to do: DO NOT eat spicy food (I don’t know why this would even be a conversation, but there it is.) Do not it chunky food (anything you have to work to swallow, trust me it’s more work coming up) Now for one you might not know: Pancakes, don’t eat em, for one thing they expand in your stomach, so therefore they bites are bigger when they come back up, and that ladies and gentlemen, is an painful experience. With that in mind, it’s probably best to avoid all foods with baking powder. I know this probably doesn’t leave a lot to choose from, but hey, when you’re sick who really wants to eat that much anyways?

And this has been another trivial talk with Shelby. =D

[(Weird, Random Question) can you choke on your own vomit, as it is coming back up?]

Other words that mean throw up: Heave, Hurl, Puke, Regurgitate, Retch, Ruminate, Spew, Spit Up, Upchuck

A Little Crush

Holy shit, I have a crush.

I am crushing bad.

Damnit.

10 A.M.

And as predicted, I feel (and look) like complete shit. Went to bed around 3, fell asleep around 4. Luckily enough, the boys have a game tonight, so I will have the house mostly to myself this evening. Although, I probably shouldn’t just got to sleep at 3 o’clock. (Only to wake up at 8, feeling hungry and active.) Then inevitably I am not tired when 10 o’clock rolls around (therefore putting me in this endless cycle of bad mornings and boring evenings) Although, I do end up losing weight during these weeks, which is both bad and good (because I don’t eat, and that’s never a good way to lose weight.) Even though, all I want to do is run right home and go to sleep, that is not what I am going to do. Instead, I am going to going to go to my favorite coffee shop (the Starbucks in La Verne with the really pretty tree in the back over the patio) order some hot chocolate (because I don’t drink caffeine) and get some writing done. I am VERY interested in this Romeo & Juliet type romance (centered in a 24-hour cafe) I have been working on. I would like to thank the graveyard shift at Ihop for their inspiration. Though I guess it was more of a feeling for one of the subjects. I just hope that doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass. Though I would (kind of, sort of, really, really) love if SOMEONE did take notice.

A Kiss With A Fist

I am a flirt, a terrible flirt. Well that’s not exactly true, considering I have no idea how to actually go about flirting. I do, however, try very hard to get people to fall in love with me. I have this fantasy of being fought over. Of having at least 3 guys (and maybe even a girl or two) completely obsessed with me. Consumed by me, in love with me to the point of distraction, something of a dramatic Something About Mary situation. Although there is always one person, one guy, that I want. I’m never torn or questioning, I just want him. I always choose him, no matter what one of the others offer me. That’s the thing about obsession, addiction, it’s not love, you see, none of these boys (or girls) are actually in love with me, they just think they are. Rather, they are in love with the thought of me, the idea of being with someone like me. Someone that makes them themselves, someone who will be the person they want, they need. That’s what I do, I am in the business of dreams, I am a dream girl, and I am wicked good at what I do. Though of course, this mystery man of mine, the man of my dreams sees right through all of that. He knows me for who I am, and what I want to be. He finds a way to make me genuine and make me real. I guess the real reason I do all of this, is to find someone like that, my very own magic man. Someone to take care of me, not so much in a mother-father sort of way, just someone to notice. Someone who notices when I’m not feeling well or when I’m sad. Someone who can stand up to me and tell me when enough is enough. Not someone who stands back and lets me do whatever the hell I want to do, because we all know that sometimes what I want to do, isn’t at all what I should be doing. Besides, isn’t that what I’ve been looking for my entire life? Someone to give me boundaries? Which I guess is the same thing every kid who ‘acts out’ is looking for. Boundaries, rules, love. Eck, there it is again, that impossible little word that makes me want to pull my hair out. What can I say? It’s what I want. Though I know, I wouldn’t know it if it were smacking me in the face. I’ve never been in love, and sometimes I think I never will be. I can just imagine myself falling in love and never realizing it, shying away from it, running away from it; because I’m scared, because I’m me. Happiness isn’t a color I wear too often. Winning isn’t something I’ve ever been accustomed too. It’s hard to change the way you lose, when you think you’ve never won. So, like I said, love isn’t something I know, or have known, and it’s not something I’m looking for either. If it happens, it happens, but I’m not looking for it. Although, once again, like I said, I probably wouldn’t know it if it were smacking me in the face, so now a new, question arises: How will I know? All I’ve ever known of love is heartbreak. (Yes I know that sounds like a cheese-y country song, but it’s the truth.) I guess you can say I never really learned how to love. LAME CHEESEY & don’t forget STUPID. I’m tired of talking about this, so it’s time to tuck and roll, abandon the subject and move on. . . .

The Weary Kind

I’m tired. The kind of tired that creeps up on you all day long, the kind of tired that’s easy to hide. The kind that really only shows in your eyes, and really, how often does someone look you in the eyes?

I won't tell them your name

Instead of sitting down and shifting through the painstaking process of trying to think of the perfect name, and surname, for each and every person I ever name in this blog, journal, memoir. . . thing, I am making one up, just off the top of my head. Every time I come to a point on my written journey in which I would like to talk about a certain person, I just use the first name, that is not their own, that comes to my mind. It’s been working out pretty spectacularly so far and hopefully it will throw people off enough so they at the very least, have a hard time identifying who each person is. Not that I am afraid of anyone knowing who or what they are in this toxic wasteland I call my mind. I’m just trying to take everyone’s feelings into consideration. This way, if anything thing ever does come of all this writing I’ve been doing, I don’t have to worry about people getting their feelings hurt and taking it out on me, or my publishers. (My we’re getting cocky aren’t we?) Also, it makes it harder for any of those people with hurt feelings to sue me, for hurting their reputation or whatever it is people sue other people for in these kind of situation.

Side note: We must figure out why it is that I talk this way. Starting off normal enough, they I try to get fancy, only to go back to sounding like a normal young adult. Seriously, what’s up with that?

I Love You

Three very simple, very small words, so I ask you, who made them so damn special? Who decided that it was a good idea to put a word to love? Why does there need to be a word to it all? It’s just a thing, a very powerful, spiritual, lovely wonderful thing! Why in heaven’s name did SOMEONE have make it so damn complicated?! Think about it, if there had never been a word for how you were feeling would it have been such a big deal that you couldn’t say it? Would it have been that big of a deal if they didn’t say it back? Pray tell, how many times has this phrase, not the meaning gotten you into trouble? It’s a nuisance, a bother, a menace to society, and it needs to be stopped!

Whatever Shelby

It’s 6:30, I just woke up. I’ve been asleep for 8 hours. For the first time, in a long time, I slept for eight hours on a work night. Usually I make up for all the lack of sleep I got during the week, on Friday, or Saturday, by sleeping in until 11. But last night, I laid down on the couch around nine, fell asleep somewhere around the second South Park episode and woke up about quarter to ten. Instead of trying to keep myself up for another half-hour or so, I get myself up and slowly make my way back to the bedroom. I fall back to sleep somewhere around ten. I wake up 8 hours later, on top of the covers, backwards. For some reason, when I’m really tired, I make no attempt to be normal. What did I do when I realized I was wide-awake 30 minutes before my alarm clock even went off? Why I went back to sleep of course! I could have gotten up, done my hair, gotten breakfast and actually walked into the office feeling nice and chipper, but of course I decided to roll over and go back to sleep, not actually getting up until eight, giving myself 20 minutes instead of 2 hours! Whatever Shelby. I annoy myself.

So you had a bad day

My face itches. I didn’t wash my face this morning. I didn’t have time. I woke up at 8:20. Ten minutes before I had to leave. I scratch my face, starting at my left jaw and working my way up to the hairline. I try to stop, but I just can’t help it. I imagine my face turning red and getting puffy. I can just imagine what people will think of these red patches on my face.

And then I realize, they don’t care.

I turn away from the ladies and reach under my desk to the can resting on top my computer. I must look like I am Irish-ing up my coffee, with my hands, and cup under the desk. Though it is just Pepsi, I am equally ashamed. Although I’m sure I wouldn’t be in trouble if people knew I was sneaking soda. I just don’t want people to know I’m too much of a little girl to be drink coffee.

My biggest problem is self-help. My entire life I have been trying to learn everything, and being an impatient, precocious little ankle biter, I wasn’t willing to wait. So, I taught myself.
I feel sick; in my throat, not in my stomach, the kind of sickness that can only be caused by drinking Pepsi on an empty stomach. It’s a common illness, caused by many other types of soda pop, not just Pepsi. Though Root Beer tends to be easier on the tummy. Maybe that’s because there’s no caffeine in most beers of the root persuasion.
11:40, twenty minutes until 60 minutes before I can leave.
I hear footsteps but only two. It’s Aaron, one of the bosses’ sons. He’s tall and never needs to take the steps one at a time. I like Aaron; he’s quiet, kind of shy, but nice. He’s a nerd, a dork, one of my kind, and I like that. I just wish he would talk to me.

“Hey, Hey, Hey”

The opening lines to Hey Soul Sister make me want to cry, or hide under my desk in lonely shame. Either way, a song I use to LOVE and actually USE for a video project, has now become something of shadow monster for me. Ironically (or not) enough, the very reason I now cannot stand this lovely song, is because of a failed video project I had planned using this very tune. The plan was to get all my friends, and maybe even some strangers, to do a one take version of a vlog type music video. They could sing, dance, run in circles chasing their imaginary (or not) tails, and then my “friends” would send me the video footage and I would edit it all together with footage from my 20th birthday celebration. None of this, however, came to being, because, well, only one person actually followed through with the plan. I am very saddened by this. I’m not sure if it’s because now I realize I don’t have friends, or because I realized that the few friends that I do have could honestly give a crap about anything that would make me even the slightest bit happier then I am now.

Violet by Hole

I spin in my chair opening and closing drawers pretending to look for something, or maybe I am looking for something, I don’t know. I turn back to my computer and start typing, aimlessly at first and then with more purpose and potency, but of course I get bored, stuck, or even concerned that someone will look over my shoulder, and I have to stop. I look back at the clock and realize that only 3 minutes have gone by. I Google depression again. The first thing that pops up is a link, an advertisement for some kind of medication. “‘Are You Depressed?’ Our depression research study is enrolling participants right now www.Ifeelblue.com.” The next thing I see is Google listing it as a disease with suggestions of possible medical websites. I think it’s a little ridiculous to call depression a disease. I don’t consider it a disease, or even an illness. Not that I think physiological problems aren’t real illnesses or anything, I just don’t think depression should be in the same category as Schizophrenia or Bi Polar Disorder. I mean think about it, how many diseases can you cure just by talking about it? Don’t you wish it were true though? Imagine what the world would be like if you could cure major diseases just by talking them out?

Major depression (depression) Google Health, Mayo Clinic, Medline Plus, WebMD

I click on Mayo Clinic, because I always do, because it’s easy. I read through the definition and the symptoms, seeing myself on the screen more and more as the list goes on. Reading this only makes me wish I had someone to talk to. Makes me miss Ingrid more and more. Makes me question once more how and why our relationship ended. It’s easy really; she ended it, citing my lack of commitment as the cause. Which I guess might have seemed true, but when your depressed committing, even to getting better, seems impossible. So in reality, even if I was having trouble helping myself, she still shouldn’t have given up on me. Isn’t that the point of treatment? To take the burden off your own shoulders and asking someone else to carry a bit of it for you? Or maybe I’m getting this all wrong and am once again overacting in order to keep myself in a state of depression. That’s the thing about us depressives, we don’t really want to get better.

Linda: “Do you wanna-”
Me: (inner monologue) No
Linda: “-help me with something?”
Me: Sure

Working here reminds me of the last few weeks of school. After all the tests were taken, all the books returned, when there’s nothing left to do but count the minutes until summer. The teachers, in a feeble attempt to keep the peace, give you what they would lovingly refer to as busy work. Better known with the younger generation as bullshit. That’s what it’s like working here. I have my job, and then I have the bullshit I pretend to do in order to look busy. Luckily enough, Linda isn’t the type of person to share duties. I look back up at the clock and it’s 12:40. I turn back to my computer screen.

Thinking about Ingrid makes me sad, even if it has been almost 2 years since she ended my treatment with her. Missing someone that I barely knew for such a short period of time makes me realize how pathetic I am. What a pathetic little duck am I? I attach myself to anyone who will even pretend to care. Every woman in any kind of authority figure possession, who shows me even the slightest bit of charm, is in danger of my puppy dog nature. All this brings us back, once again to my mother. The reason, I believe I am so obsessed with depression and in return Ingrid and on to my pathetic baby duck syndrome, would probably boil down to the fact that it is July the 12th. Which wouldn’t mean much to many people, besides my best friends mother who was born on this day, except for the fact that it is 3 days after my birthday. Which, once again probably wouldn’t matter much, if it wasn’t for one, teeny tiny little detail: my mother didn’t call, text, write, e-mail, or Facebook me. Which wouldn’t have bothered me so much if it weren’t for the fact that we’d been exchanging polite pleasantries and even become almost chatty with, over the past few months. So you can imagine my disappointment when I don’t hear from her on a day I’m sure no mother could forget. I guess when you have 7 kids it’s easier to forget this kind of thing. It’s 1 O 5. For some reason I had completely forgotten that 1 comes after 12. For some reason I didn’t believe the clock when it said it was time to go. Usually I am sitting at my desk tapping my feet just waiting for the clock to strike one. Today, for some reason, I am completely distracted.