Wednesday, March 10, 2010

I dig guys that don't dig socks. :)
Yes, I think I've begun to crush on a beatnik poet. His name is Ben and he smells nice.

Wheeeeeeeeee!
XD
~Belinda
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Tuesday, March 9, 2010

"And she plays on a gawddamn swing-set."

Why did he have to say that? Out of all the things he could have said, out of all my flaws he could have pointed out, why did it have to be THAT one?

Honestly, it's not even a flaw. So what if I like to swing? So what if my pleasures are a little bit childish?

There was no reason for me to be ashamed of it except that he disapproved of it. He ruined it for me.

Now I can't even fucking swing anymore without thinking of him and all the ways I fall short of what perfection is according to him.

All he does is fill me up with doubt and self-loathing.
*sigh*
I hate this.
~Belinda
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Monday, March 8, 2010

I wanna say I'm sleepy, but I'm really not. I guess the right word is in a daze?
I don't know.
I feel a little bit like I'm up on the ceiling watching myself type this. It's very weird, but somehow soothing.

My eyes won't stop burning and my head is still swimming, but that's fine with me. It gives everything a chance to slow down and fade.

I got a manicure yesterday. My fingernails are all sparkly and blue now. :)
Don't know what I'm doing now. Everything is floating and I know I sound like I'm high, but I'm really not. Just at peace for the first time in a long time.
ily
~Belinda
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Sunday, March 7, 2010

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
I am trying to watch this movie online and it is taking FOREVER! >:0 Argh.
It's making me fill out all these stupid surveys and keeps asking for my contact information, but I don't want to give it, because then they're going to send me all this freaking spam.

Oh, well.
To be honest, I thought the movie (Jennifer's Body) always looked stupid anyway, but I keep hearing that it's really good, so I thought I'd check it out.

We celerated my mom's 45th birthday today, even though it's not actually for another 2 days. I'll probably end up making her a card, because I am artistic and broke. lol
In other news: my tummy hurrrrrrrrrts!
;~;
*sigh*
MyO is dying.
I'm sad.
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Saturday, March 6, 2010

It's a nice, bright, sunny Saturday out there with kids playing, birds singing, and trees swaying, and here I am burning braincells staring at this computer screen.
Ha. I'm such a recluse. XP

I think I have a caffeine hangover. I drank a bit of coffee this morning, and now that the buzz wore off, I feel sleepier than before I drank it. I'm in a daze. Been in one all week, actually.

And I think I really am going crazy this time because I keep hearing my name being called when it's not. Sometimes I'll be completely alone in a room and I'll hear it.
I saw Charlie Bartlett yesterday. It was pretty good. Really good, actually. I was surprised. I thought it would be stupid and disgusting, but it's actually pretty clever and funny.

I'ma go to my twitter and twit-twat awhile now

IT'S SATURRRRRRRRRRRRDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!! :D
ily
~Belinda
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Friday, March 5, 2010

When I rang the doorbell, he answered less than five seconds later and greeted me as if we were the oldest of friends.
“Brenda!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms around me in a hug. “Welcome! Come right in!”
Despite this cordial greeting, there was some something unsettling about Jazzy’s countenance. I detected a note of fear in his usually confident, unwavering voice, and his smile seemed plastic. He also wasn’t wearing his signature eye-liner.
I was about to murmur a reply when I noticed a tall, stunning, middle-aged women curiously watching us from the hallway. She had the exact same eyes and mouth as Jazzy.
“Look,” He hurriedly whispered in my ear, as he led me in, plastic smile still contorting his face. “My mum’s extremely homophobic and doesn’t know I’m gay, so whatever happens, just go along with it!”
As soon as we got within earshot of her, Jazzy turned to her and grinned so broadly, he could have licked his own eyebrow.
“Mum,” He said in a feigned, cheery voice. “This is Brenda, the friend I was telling you about.”
Mrs. Striffy did not smile. That was okay. She didn’t have to—her beauty was such that her most murderous scowl would have looked ten times better than the cutest toddler’s friendliest smile. This was not to say, however, that I didn’t wish she would stop fixing us with that silent, probing stare that made me wonder if she had x-ray vision.
“Um, nice to meet you, Mrs. Striffy,” I murmured, transfixed by her beauty. If not for the slight wrinkles framing her mouth, I would have thought she was Jazzy’s older sister.
She nodded at me, smirked, and said to Jazzy, “She’s rather skinny for you, isn’t she, love?”
What? She thought Jazzy and I were together? At that, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“No, ma’am,” I told her, once I was able to contain myself again. “Me and Jazzy aren’t—“
Before I could get the words out, Jazzy blocked my mouth—with his. Shook forced the words back down my throat and I almost choked on them. Jazzy Striffy had just kissed me. My heart was bounding against my rib cage so hard, my blood vessels nearly burst. Mrs. Striffy’s face was fixed in a blank look of bemusement.
“Sorry, Brenda,” Jazzy said, with a tight smile that hissed don’t you dare say another word! “You’re just so adorable sometimes I can’t help myself.”
He then slung his arm around me, called to his mother that we’d be upstairs, and dragged me to his room. Once there, he dropped the act of the dutiful, eerily cheerful son with a heavy sigh, closed and locked the door, walked over to his bureau, and began rummaging about in the top two drawers.
“Sorry about her,” He said. “She’s been like that ever since she caught me kissing my ex-boyfriend good bye at the airport back in Liverpool.”
“It’s okay,” I murmured, preoccupied examining the room. It was smaller than I expected, and a great deal cleaner. Unlike my room, the floor was completely bare and the bureau was absolutely pristine. Everything appeared tucked away and organized. The only things that weren’t utterly coordinated were the posters of bands and actors splattered about the walls.
“No, it’s not,” He said firmly, quickly taking out what must have been a fortune in make-up and depositing it on the top of his bureau. “The second you come in the door, she sizes you up, instantly points out your flaws, tries to make you ashamed of everything you are—she had no right to do that. No one has any right to do that.”
There was a pause.

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Thursday, March 4, 2010

I do not know at what point I actually “got over” Jon in the traditional sense, but after about three and a half months of mourning the death of our love, I was able to keep from crying.
Conveniently, the day I decided to call Jazzy happened to be on a Saturday, so when he picked up and told me to come over his house, I had no previous obligations preventing me from doing so. Plus, his house was surprisingly close to mine—about two blocks away, to be specific—so my mom wasn’t that adamant about dropping me off there.
When I rang the doorbell, he answered less than five seconds later and greeted me as if we were the oldest of friends.
“Brenda!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms around me in a hug. “Welcome! Come right in!”
Despite this cordial greeting, there was some something unsettling about Jazzy’s countenance. I detected a note of fear in his usually confident, unwavering voice, and his smile seemed plastic. He also wasn’t wearing eye-liner.
I was about to stutter out a reply when I noticed a tall, stunning, middle-aged women curiously watching us from the hallway. She had the exact same eyes and mouth as Jazzy.
“Look,” He shrilly whispered in my ear, as he led me in, plastic smile still contorting his face. “My mum’s extremely homophobic and doesn’t know I’m gay, so if she asks you anything like who I’m dating or if I like anyone, lie! Lie like a dead body!”
As soon as we got within earshot of her, Jazzy turned to her and grinned so broadly, he could have licked his own eyebrow.
“Mum,” He said in a feigned, cheery voice. “This is Brenda, the friend I was telling you about.”
Mrs. Striffy did not smile. That was okay. She didn’t have to—her beauty was such that her most murderous scowl would have looked ten times better than the cutest toddler’s friendliest smile. Still, I really wished she would stop observing us with that silent, probing stare that made me wonder if she had x-ray vision.
“Um, nice to meet you, Mrs. Striffy,” I murmured, transfixed by her beauty. If not for the slight wrinkles framing her mouth, I would have thought she was Jazzy’s older sister.
She nodded at me, smirked, and said to Jazzy, “She’s rather skinny for you, isn’t she, love?”
What? She thought Jazzy and I were together? She was crazy!

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Tuesday, March 2, 2010

3pointshooter, I say "bloody" so much because to me it just sounds better than "fucking."

Serpent, I did not actually get run over by a car. My feelings just got hurt in one because I'm an insecure pansy.

And, yes, Corn. Carrot cake is good. Right now, any kind of cake sounds good, as I've got the worst craving for something sweet.:(

Ergh......
I am bored, irritated, and splayed all over the walls. *sigh*

Monotony is driving my crazy. I gotta get out of this town. '-_- Or at the very least find something new to do.
I'm tired of school, tired of facebook, tired of... Well, practically everything.

Let's see...Nothing's really changed. I've managed to give up on myself for the millionth time, but that probably won't last long. I'll be riling in insecurity by the end of the week, most likely.

Also, I'm starting to like this guy named Ben in my Creative writing class. He's a poet and from what I can tell, he's not a complete and utter idiot like the hyenas I have to put up with far too often every day.
I kinda doubt anything's gonna come of it, but at least it's new.

I'm also going on a field trip to the local community college tomorrow. Ughhhhhhhhhh. '-__-
Don't really know why I'm going except that I've got nothing better to do. I certainly don't plan on going to school there once I graduate, but I guess I better give it a chance first.

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Saturday, February 27, 2010

Well. I just wasted 2 hours of my life I'll never get back.
I was in such a great mood too until a certain someone ran over it with her fancy new car. *sigh*
I'm back to feeling like some awkward, sexless skeleton.
I really need to stop taking myself so seriously. This is ridiculous.
I also need to stop starting every bloody sentence with "I."

Ugh. It's bloody freezing in here. I CAN'T FEEL MA LEGSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS, FO SRS!!!!!!

Margaret's in the kitchen making a carrot cake. Might as well go over there and help her before my ass becomes one giant ice block.
ily
!Belinda
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Thursday, February 25, 2010

POLLY WANTS A FUCKING CRACKER!!!!
Stephy, I got your profane parrot package today.
My mother is amused, my sisters are disgusted, my brother is disturbed, and I am thrilled. lol
I also especially like that bubble-blowing pen you got me. That was sheer brilliance in pen form.

Other than that, today I didn't really do anything of importance or interest. Umm... Let's see... Today I:

1. Discussed bra-sizes with Amber.

2. Laughed and discussed pet chickens that mistook themselves for dogs whilest being snarled and glared at by Dan at the back of the bus. Yes, he was quite the Grumpy Mcgrumpperson today. T.T

3. Was yelled at by my little sisters.

4. Got asked repeatedly by my youngest sister Valerie if I would sleep with her.

5. Was yelled at by a stuffed parrot to show him my tits.

And that's about it. There probably is more, but I'm in too shitty of a mood to be entertaining. I don't even know why, I just want to take a long, hot, shower, go to bed, and cry myself to sleep for as long as I feel like without any impending deadlines to trouble me.

You know, I think I'm secretly making a special effort to be extra depressing today. lol
I am odd.

*sigh* Gotta love a song with a kazoo.
ily
~Belinda
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