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back from northern ireland
3 min read
I got back from Northern Ireland a day ago, on the eighteenth. It was a pretty great experience, to say in the least!
Some change occurred, I think, which is pretty great unto itself.
Inspiration is slowly leaking back. Energy is recharging.
I made some new friends over there, too, Craig and Clio and Erin and Sarah and Shannen and Duncan- the list goes on, I'm just in the middle of making tea so it's too difficult to list all of the names out- and I got some new stuff and new life experience fuck yeah. I feel like I've dropped, though, because I'm suffering serious feelings whenever I hear something that reminds me of them. It's unfortunate.
They have a whole lot more freedom over there as teenagers, which is ironic coming from an American. There was a bit of culture shock, there. They talk about drinking really openly in Belfast, which was weird because it's almost treated as a taboo (but not quite) in the States. Had one of my first parties that I was allowed to drink at on the Wednesday, which was fucking awesome. Turns out that even if Clio was staggering drunk, she was a master at beer pong (which the Americans taught her, of course). Craig also started to try and sing The Star Spangled Banner and fell off the couch giggling about how much he loved American people. It was an awesome night.
What else. Hm.
I also called some thirty year old guy I bumped into at Tesco "sweetheart".
Talking about Tesco, if you're a fifteen year old American girl suffering from lack of sleep and jet lag, walking into a Tesco is fucking surreal. Not even joking. It was like Walmart and Target and a food co-op smashed into each other with multiple floors and this giant glass wall and slanted people-walker things and I must have looked like I was on an acid trip because I was just wobbling around behind my host family staring at everything and God, it was the weirdest fucking thing ever.
I shouldn't ever go on LSD.
A positive point is my parents! I may be able to get Facebook so I can talk with all of my friends!
If anyone wants me to ramble about Northern Ireland to them, just note me.
Some change occurred, I think, which is pretty great unto itself.
Inspiration is slowly leaking back. Energy is recharging.
I made some new friends over there, too, Craig and Clio and Erin and Sarah and Shannen and Duncan- the list goes on, I'm just in the middle of making tea so it's too difficult to list all of the names out- and I got some new stuff and new life experience fuck yeah. I feel like I've dropped, though, because I'm suffering serious feelings whenever I hear something that reminds me of them. It's unfortunate.
They have a whole lot more freedom over there as teenagers, which is ironic coming from an American. There was a bit of culture shock, there. They talk about drinking really openly in Belfast, which was weird because it's almost treated as a taboo (but not quite) in the States. Had one of my first parties that I was allowed to drink at on the Wednesday, which was fucking awesome. Turns out that even if Clio was staggering drunk, she was a master at beer pong (which the Americans taught her, of course). Craig also started to try and sing The Star Spangled Banner and fell off the couch giggling about how much he loved American people. It was an awesome night.
What else. Hm.
I also called some thirty year old guy I bumped into at Tesco "sweetheart".
Talking about Tesco, if you're a fifteen year old American girl suffering from lack of sleep and jet lag, walking into a Tesco is fucking surreal. Not even joking. It was like Walmart and Target and a food co-op smashed into each other with multiple floors and this giant glass wall and slanted people-walker things and I must have looked like I was on an acid trip because I was just wobbling around behind my host family staring at everything and God, it was the weirdest fucking thing ever.
I shouldn't ever go on LSD.
A positive point is my parents! I may be able to get Facebook so I can talk with all of my friends!
If anyone wants me to ramble about Northern Ireland to them, just note me.
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self-love time.
2 min read
it's only monday and i need to start taking measures. not a great sign, but i've been worse.
i'm taking a leave of absence from tumblr. i keep seeing negative things and negative people and i'm tired of feeling bad about myself because i convince myself what an awful person i am because maybe once i thought this or once maybe i typed something that didn't represent my feelings like i wanted and then everyone finds it necessary to tell me that this is a terrible thought because it's racist and sexist and homophobic and ableist and transphobic and i'm so fucking sick of it because i'm not any of those things, and i am ninety nine percent sure i'm not in denial. there is a difference between hate and lack of knowledge, there is a difference between meaning something and not wording it right, and there are gangs of people who seem to not know that and enjoy cramming themselves down other people's throats due to self-righteous fury, because this is the internet and it's vast and anonymous and there are no repercussions, right?
wrong. there are real fucking people on the other side of that computer, and it hurts.
so, that's basically why i'm temporarily logging off. i don't want to deal with that because, frankly, i have enough shit to deal with that i don't want to add to feeling like i'm a shitty person when i'm not, in the ways that the internet likes to tell me. i'm a shitty enough person without people telling me. i already have enough conversations that i replay over and over in my head to try to make sure that i'm not an asshole, and that seems to be failing me.
any other news, my english teacher is a dick, i get to take bioethics soon, i'm making dinner, i'm contemplating making a mixtape or something.
i'm taking a leave of absence from tumblr. i keep seeing negative things and negative people and i'm tired of feeling bad about myself because i convince myself what an awful person i am because maybe once i thought this or once maybe i typed something that didn't represent my feelings like i wanted and then everyone finds it necessary to tell me that this is a terrible thought because it's racist and sexist and homophobic and ableist and transphobic and i'm so fucking sick of it because i'm not any of those things, and i am ninety nine percent sure i'm not in denial. there is a difference between hate and lack of knowledge, there is a difference between meaning something and not wording it right, and there are gangs of people who seem to not know that and enjoy cramming themselves down other people's throats due to self-righteous fury, because this is the internet and it's vast and anonymous and there are no repercussions, right?
wrong. there are real fucking people on the other side of that computer, and it hurts.
so, that's basically why i'm temporarily logging off. i don't want to deal with that because, frankly, i have enough shit to deal with that i don't want to add to feeling like i'm a shitty person when i'm not, in the ways that the internet likes to tell me. i'm a shitty enough person without people telling me. i already have enough conversations that i replay over and over in my head to try to make sure that i'm not an asshole, and that seems to be failing me.
any other news, my english teacher is a dick, i get to take bioethics soon, i'm making dinner, i'm contemplating making a mixtape or something.
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happy holidays!!
1 min read
no matter your faith system (or lack of one), i hope you feel happy and at peace this season!
it's been a while since i've posted anything, my apologies.
my hope for this holiday season is change. i fear and crave change, right now. i am exhausted, and i am empty. i hardly find enough energy and time to take care of myself, let alone my friends and family, and they have issues as well. i've been finding it so hard, so incredibly hard when it normally comes so easy, to maintain relationships because, frankly, they exhaust me. i stopped putting in effort because i couldn't put any more in.
i just need something, you know? something big and passionate and fierce and vivid, that fills me up and makes me want to do stuff again.
i try so hard, god, i try harder than i think i can, but at the end of the day, i just want to feel something, and i fucking can't.
so, merry christmas, and feel something monumental for me.
it's been a while since i've posted anything, my apologies.
my hope for this holiday season is change. i fear and crave change, right now. i am exhausted, and i am empty. i hardly find enough energy and time to take care of myself, let alone my friends and family, and they have issues as well. i've been finding it so hard, so incredibly hard when it normally comes so easy, to maintain relationships because, frankly, they exhaust me. i stopped putting in effort because i couldn't put any more in.
i just need something, you know? something big and passionate and fierce and vivid, that fills me up and makes me want to do stuff again.
i try so hard, god, i try harder than i think i can, but at the end of the day, i just want to feel something, and i fucking can't.
so, merry christmas, and feel something monumental for me.
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headphones win
2 min read
using my the who earphones.
holy shit this makes everything that much better.
i can hear all of the instruments and everything is loud and clear and even and perfect.
like, i can feel the bass in my toes and shit. s'pretty cool.
on another note (hahaha see what i did), i got swim suits and we're going to the cape soon, which is always fabulous.
i have my evanescence concert soon, which is equally fabulous. as i said to kat, i get to be the awkward looking chick rocking in the corner, which is personally my favorite role because all of the scene kids who wear too much hello kitty and get offended if you don't have dyed hair and piercings and wear really fucking tight jeans look at you all offended and poser-ish.
pfft.
it's sad, that i've sunk so low to get my kicks from people giving me odd looks because i don't look like i belong. c'est la vie, sugarsnap.
that's become my new favorite term of endearment, sugarsnap. i have no comments and no fucks (even though i doubt that merits a fuck to begin with). cait has become "babe" on my phone (personal joke), and i'm wondering who to give specific pet names. i dunno. if you have a pet name, come forth. i am not accepting weeabo or "scene" names, nor will i call you your dominatrix name. tough cookies (whips? gags?).
in terms of writing, eh. haven't done much. camp nanowrimo's coming up this august, so that'll happen. welcome to my pseudo-religious stuff, kudos if you catch the supernatural references and/or my religious innuendoes. that sounds weird, like jesus was hitting on someone. maybe god was hitting on jesus.
er. 'pologies. no offense meant to my religious watchers/friends/abby-apostles.
that's all for now, kiddies. remember to use condoms. keep the salt by your pillow. there's always money in the banana stand.
holy shit this makes everything that much better.
i can hear all of the instruments and everything is loud and clear and even and perfect.
like, i can feel the bass in my toes and shit. s'pretty cool.
on another note (hahaha see what i did), i got swim suits and we're going to the cape soon, which is always fabulous.
i have my evanescence concert soon, which is equally fabulous. as i said to kat, i get to be the awkward looking chick rocking in the corner, which is personally my favorite role because all of the scene kids who wear too much hello kitty and get offended if you don't have dyed hair and piercings and wear really fucking tight jeans look at you all offended and poser-ish.
pfft.
it's sad, that i've sunk so low to get my kicks from people giving me odd looks because i don't look like i belong. c'est la vie, sugarsnap.
that's become my new favorite term of endearment, sugarsnap. i have no comments and no fucks (even though i doubt that merits a fuck to begin with). cait has become "babe" on my phone (personal joke), and i'm wondering who to give specific pet names. i dunno. if you have a pet name, come forth. i am not accepting weeabo or "scene" names, nor will i call you your dominatrix name. tough cookies (whips? gags?).
in terms of writing, eh. haven't done much. camp nanowrimo's coming up this august, so that'll happen. welcome to my pseudo-religious stuff, kudos if you catch the supernatural references and/or my religious innuendoes. that sounds weird, like jesus was hitting on someone. maybe god was hitting on jesus.
er. 'pologies. no offense meant to my religious watchers/friends/abby-apostles.
that's all for now, kiddies. remember to use condoms. keep the salt by your pillow. there's always money in the banana stand.
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ladies and gents
1 min read
and here is abby's super challenge of the day.
i am going to write fifty thousand words in roughly nineteen hours. a novel. and i'm going to do it and be ridiculously proud of myself.
threats to sanity: chores. no sleep. fifty thousand words.
i am going to write fifty thousand words in roughly nineteen hours. a novel. and i'm going to do it and be ridiculously proud of myself.
threats to sanity: chores. no sleep. fifty thousand words.
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