Justification.

Yes, I know that you are not in the best of places with me now. I know I've acted like a brat, a petulant whiny one at that.
I'm sorry.
If you'd like, now that I'm a wee bit more reasonable, I have some reasons why.
I think why I defy you, and revolt when you ask me to do something, is that it feels like you are the only person that I can say no to. I always want the people immediately around me to be happy, so much so that I tend to just do what is asked of me, because I know that it will keep the peace. Even though I pretty much know by now that you react with little grace to my childish-ness, I can't help myself. It's as though I want to see you change. For your knee-jerk reaction to be just the smallest amount different, for me to not flinch when you're in a bad mood and I'm nearby. I know that your reaction is just as ingrained in you as my causing it, I just somehow feel righteous in accusing you, while exonerating my self of all the blame, even though we both did the same crime.
Perhaps this isn't making sense. I don't know. But I'm trying my best.

I'm not going to pass off my behavior on mood swings, or just being in those "teenage years". I know that I've been an unmanageable annoying girl, easy to dislike.
I'm not trying to excuse myself either. Simply trying to let myself express, in a nonviolent way that will perhaps make communication between us less stressful.

I feel horrible, watching your reaction, judging by the smallest slumping of your shoulders how disappointed I make you at times. But I don't know how to change it.
I'm going to find out.
Because I hate watching you, when I'm not happy, and so I make everyone around me not happy, and you take to it worse than the rest.

Sometimes I think I'm vindictive that way. I feel as though when everything crashes down, me being the prime target, I need to take everyone down with me, everyone that I can get my hands on. Instead of letting my bad moment pass, I dwell on it, let it fester, and then suddenly my mouth is full of peoples heads because I've bitten them off.

I try to make up for my inability to move, (laziness), to help out at all, by being overly cheerful, or annoyingly worried over the tiniest of things, or just downright annoying. I know several people who have taken all three views.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is, while I know that I've been inexcusable over the past few months, I will get better.
Just give me some time.

Cat Haikus

even my creative genius does not stretch to the extent of writing a haiku for a cat. But someones did! found via stumble (no duh.)

cat haiku

You never feed me. Perhaps I'll sleep on your face. That will sure show you. You must scratch me there! Yes, above my tail! Behold, elevator butt. The rule for today: Touch my tail, I shred your hand. New rule tomorrow. In deep sleep hear sound cat vomit hairball somewhere will find in morning. Grace personified. I leap into the window. I meant to do that. Blur of motion, then -- silence, me, a paper bag. What is so funny? The mighty hunter Returns with gifts of plump birds -- your foot just squashed one. You're always typing. Well, let's see you ignore my sitting on your hands. My small cardboard box. You cannot see me if I can just hide my head. Terrible battle. I fought for hours. Come and see! What's a 'term paper?' Small brave carnivores Kill pine cones and mosquitoes, Fear vacuum cleaner I want to be close to you. Can I fit my head inside your armpit? Wanna go outside. Oh, poop! Help! I got outside! Let me back inside! Oh no! Big One has been trapped by newspaper! Cat to the rescue! Humans are so strange. Mine lies still in bed, then screams; My claws are not that sharp.

Mergers.

once AGAIN found on stumble. I think I'm in love with it :p

In the wake of the Exxon/Mobil deal and the AOL/Time Warner deal,
here are the latest mergers we can expect to see in the year 2000:

 Hale Business Systems, Mary Kay Cosmetics, Fuller Brush and W.R. Grace
Company merge to become Hale Mary Fuller Grace.

 Polygram Records, Warner Brothers and Keebler Crackers merge to become
Polly-Warner-Cracker.

 3M and Goodyear merge to become MMMGood.

 John Deere and Abitibi-Price merge to become Deere Abi.

 Zippo Manufacturing, Audi Motors, Dofasco and Dakota Mining merge to
become Zip Audi Do Da.

 Honeywell, Imasco and Home Oil merge to become Honey I'm Home.

 Denison Mines and Alliance and Metal Mining merge to become MineAll Mine.

 Federal Express and UPS merge to become FED UP.

 Xerox and Wurlitzer will merge and begin  manufacturing reproductive
organs.

 Fairchild Electronics and Honeywell Computers will merge and become
Fairwell Honeychild.

 3M, J.C. Penney and the Canadian Opera Company will merge and become
3 Penney Opera.

 Grey Poupon & Dockers Pants will merge and become Poupon Pants.

 Knott's Berry Farm & National Organization of Women will merge and
become Knott NOW!


=D

---

some advice...

...once again found through Stumble! YAYS!

From a newspaper column written by Mary Schmich, a columnist for The
Chicago Tribune, who said she wrote it "while high on coffee and M&Ms"
on May 31, 1997.


Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.
The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists,
whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own
meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not
understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But
trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall
in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how
fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as
effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed
your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle
Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people
who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes
you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with
yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in
doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life.
The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to
do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know
still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when
they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe
you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky
chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't
congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices
are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of
what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever
own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the
people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should
hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle,
because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you
when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in
Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will
philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize
that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble
and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund.
Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one
might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look
85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply
it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the
past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and
recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.>>

and something that I juat barely ran across using !! stumble !!

sorry, it's kind of long. But I agree with almost every point.

Ode to the Nice Guys
This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

~Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003

_______________________________________________________________________________

lovely, in'nt it? especially since I happen to be one of those girls who IS dating the nice guy. And loving the crap shit out of him. :)

bleary and dreary and grayer than gray...

...equals into no customers willing to pay,
for rain spots on cars all just because,
they need to send off their christ-a-mas stuff.
And so our store is slower than slow,
we're standing here waiting for people to show,
but they stay at home, or at work, or away,
with hot chocolate and muffins, and STILL they won't pay,
for rain spots on cars all just because,
they need to send off their christ-a-mas stuff.

thought of, composed, edited, and posted by me.
I was supposed to be at work today, but as you can see with the above poem, it is a wee slow to have four people in at once...
so. I'm at home, being bored.
As you can tell, by how long I am dragging out this post.
.
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.
.
I'm going to go and read now.
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.
or at least sometime soon...
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aren't I wonderful? I'm the most amazing person in the whole world!
.
.
.
seriously, why are you still reading? go and do something productive.
.
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.
I mean it!
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fine. I'll go. Happy?
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apparently not.

:D