Happy 100th!!!

Okay, this is my 100th blogpost. YAAAAAY!!! I've had this blog for forever two years and a couple of days ago, I read every single post. Because I'm narcissistic I wanted to get a sense of why I had this blog in the first place and what's changed since I started it. So, first of all, I started this blog because I was having conflicting feelings about a guy(ooof course). Soooo much has changed since I started this blog. First of all, it's not called Take A Walk On The Tame Side anymore. I also don't bother putting pictures on my posts to correspond with the topic or emotions in them. I still go through the same moodswings and unpredictable emotions. I still have issues with guys and loneliness and all the other crap that's flung my way by life. Anyway, I was trying to think of ways to celebrate my 100th post when I realized that I don't really have anyone to celebrate it with since no one really knows about it. No one that I know anyway. And no one that I'm close to will ever read this until I'm much older and maybe with someone. I don't know. I've never really seriously considered suicide, but I have thought of putting the URL to this blog in it. Then maybe they would understand why I took my feelings to an extreme(which I can't see myself doing btw). ANYway, I started my 100th post by doing a "Few of My Favourite Things" edition. However, my first draft got lost because I had bad internet connection in the basement and was on my phone, so none of it auto-saved. I had gotten to like 29 of my favourite things when it I accidently pressed something(consequence of touch-screen technology) and it all erased. After that I cried for about an hour because I was homesick(never would have happened at home), rolled over for three hours because I couldn't fall asleep, and rolled out of bed at around 2pm in the shittiest mood ever. The point is, the very first attempt at my 100th post celebration was a complete failure. Therefore, I waited until I got to the comfort of my strong wifi connection and laptop and typed out the post you've just read. I should be doing my homework, but as you may have read in the early posts of this blog, I'm Little Miss Procrastination and I have ten days until the first day of school(when the homework is due) so, I'mprocrastinating pacing myself. I'm sooo tired. For some reason, I always get the urge to post to this thing at totally unreasonable hours.So, I guess I'll just end it here. Oh, wait, I can't end it without a quick update: We're hanging out on Saturday and I really hope that I can get some answers either from him or just some clarity on how I'm feeling. *fingerscrossed* Okay, now I can end this post in peace.

Let's Call this: Summer of Suck [weekend eight] because I'm too lazy to tell you about my weekend.

Sooooo, I noticed that I'm nearing my 100th post(which is super cool) and I really don't want it to be a negative one. I would like to celebrate my 100th post, but this blog is super top secret(and not just because no one really cares) and I don't really have anyone to celebrate it with. Since sooo many of my posts have been about a guy I really want to make this one as nice as possible. I'm feeling a little less imbalanced and I am talking to him(yes, I'm weak and a hypocrite, but this isn't news) so I'm in a slightly better mood. Of course, he says he's been stressed and going through stuff and he wants to hang out. [Almost] every fibre of my being really wants to make my move and take this huge risk, and just let him know exactly how I feel. But that tiny voice in the back of my head is telling me that all I'll do is ruin whatever it is we have and change his whole view of me, thus destroying any possibility of a future. I know that if we hang out my feelings won't be as intense. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder and I may not feel so strongly about him after seeing that a lot I "remember" about him was my imagination. Hopefully, this happens. I'm just a sucker for a sad story and I'm Little Miss Heal the World, trying to make everyone feel better, one hug at a time. I know, I know, it was only a few hours ago when I was saying fuck forgiveness, but I have a soft spot for him and I have a feeling that things are worse for him than he let's on. Plus, I love him. I hate to admit it without truly knowing if he feels it too, but stab me with a fork, I do. I have this stupid connection with him. It's as if fate brought us together. And the fact that I feel so strongly about the little things even when we're just friends. And my dreams are signs. They have to be. Positive or negative, there's something about this guy that's different from the others. I just haven't quite figured it out yet. Taylor Swift's "You Belong with Me" perfectly describes my feelings(unfortunately). It would be "Our Song" if shewasn't in the picture. Maybe I'm crazy, but all this can't be for nothing. Heck, even my GRANDMA asked about him. Something's gotta give. At least let me find out there's something horribly wrong with him. SOMETHING. My godmother suggested that I ask hm to prom. That way there won't be pressure and I'll have fun because he's my friend. But, it might just complicate things more. Plus, what if something happens? Actually... no no no. There I go scheming again. Bringing bad karma on myself right before college is not the look. I don't care, I'm superstitious. It's a serious thing. Anyway, if I'm still awake in two hours, I'm gonna text him. I know he won't be awake so it's the perfect opportunity to tell him I love him randomly and innocently and see what happens. No pressure, no overthinking(ha. Yeah, right). Bleh. I just want him. I wanted that job too. And I got on my knees and prayed for that job. Look where it got me. *dingdingding* that's right, no where. *sigh* I'm just going to keep trying my best to be a good person. That's all I can really do at this point.

F*ck Forgiveness

I have his number again. Because he texted me. Because I forgave him. But he committed the exact same crime all over again. I don't get it. What did I do? Well, it doesn't matter because I'm deleting his number again, and if he texts me again, I'm ignoring it. I need stability. It would be different if I didn't like him, but I do and what he's unwittingly(I hope) doing hurts me, but I have no idea how to begin to express that. So I just leave it alone instead of trying to fix it because I'm afraid. What am I afraid of? Getting hurt worse than I already am? Possibly. Him realizing the truth about how I feel about him? Very possible. Losing his friendship with no chance of getting it back? Highly likely. Although, I've been questioning how good a friend he actually is. But what can I say? I'm a hoarder. I have a difficult time getting rid of things that are totally useless. I have a hard time deleting the numbers of people I never talk to anymore and most likely will never talk to again. Hell, I still sign in on AIM to see if BFKAW happens to be on or has left me (another) message begging for my number. [He never is, btw]. The point is, I have a very mild hoarding problem, which makes it difficult for me to just let him go. I can't control myself. I have to hold on to hope that our relationship will suddenly drastically change for the better. And why? I'll tell you why, I'm a fucking pathetic, lonely, ugly girl who is so desperate to be touched that she'll keep an asshole's number in her bedazzled phone in the hopes that one day she'll text him and he'll actually fucking respond. Fuck forgiveness. He doesn't deserve it. I'm so strong, but I never apply my strength when it comes to him. I guess now is the best time to start.

Like A F*cking Yo-Yo.

Fml. I get all excited when he finally texts me. I can't believe he has so much control over my freaking emotions. Why do I keep allowing myself to be controlled any manipulated like this" I just feel so deeply for him and he feels nothing for me. And when I try to shake it off and forget about it, something causes me to fall right back into that stupid spiral. He's literally a drug. When I get a dose I'm the happiest person. I glow brighter than the stars. Then, when he starts to take a long time to answer my text or, worse, mentions her I go through withdrawal. I'm angry, dissapointed, depressed. Its like having bipolar disorder. Periods of blissful mania followed by seemingly longer periods of crippling depression. I have such a headache. It's so frustrating. I can't get away. Why is he doing this? Why does he tell me he loves me and tells me I'm so awesome and that he misses me BLAH BLAH BLAAAH!!! Then, all of a sudden, it's like I don't exist and my texts just disappear into the freaking air. God, why is this so hard?! Why?! Why?! WHY??!!! I give up. I'm just gonna turn into Jell-O and give up.

Summer of SUCK [weekend seven]

Okay, I'm EXTREMELY late, but Friday I left for a different state, Saturday I went roller skating to celebrate my godsister's birthday(she turned five), and Sunday I slept practically all day. It was a pretty good weekend aside from all the annoying children. Roller skating was SUPER fun. There were no really cute guys, but I'm kind of glad there wasn't. My legs were stubbly and they wouldn't have looked my way anyway. So Weekend Seven wasn't very eventful... I haven't had any internet service since I wasn't connected to the wifi AND there's really bad reception where I am. I would blame it on the fact that my room is in the basement, but the service isn't much better anywhere else in the house. Not to fear, I'm reconnected :)

Clean.

I did a cleansing today. It's kind of like a self-baptism. You pray and bathe in a mixture of holy water, flowers, and another religious substance that I can't quite explain. I'm not religious and I don't identify with any religion, but I believe in spirits. I have no choice but to be "spiritually inclined" it's in my blood. I have vivid dreams and very strong feelings which guide me. I don't really believe in the conventional idea of  "God" or "gods". I have respect for it and I won't criticize people for believing in or following it, even if I do think some of it is total bs. I don't agree with using religion to justify the persecution of people, so I choose to not identify with any religion at all. However, on occasions, I do engage in some practices of my grandmother's religion. I feel a bit like a hypocrite for it sometimes, but it helps me when I feel I need it most. I feel cleansed of a lot of the negative feelings I was experiencing, but I still don't feel cleansed of him and his memory. My grandmother brought him up and we began to talk about him and why I'm not really talking to him. He hasn't texted me, btw. I think maybe he senses I might be upset with him since I didn't respond to his apology, or maybe he's just preoccupied, or he just forgot about me. Either way, I haven't spoken to him since I deleted his number. I didn't tell her I deleted his number. I feel a little foolish about it. I didn't really have a reason. I was driven by unreasonable emotions. I miss him. Talking to her about him made me miss him. I don't want to miss him. I hate feeling like I want to cry over someone. Especially a guy I like. That's the worst thing to me. It feels so pathetic. I don't know if I feel more miserable when he's in my life or when he's not. I keep telling myself that quote:

If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it's yours, if it doesn't, it never was.

I like that quote; it gives me some peace. But it also makes me afraid that maybe my intense feelings were wrong and it wasn't meant to be. Sometimes I fantasize that one day, after he's has all his girlfriends and I've done my fair share of dating(fingers crossed), one day we'll bump into each other, remember all the good times we had, and fall in love. He'll remember how much he admired me, and noticed that over the years, I've gotten even more beautiful and amazing. I'll note that he's  much more handsome and has a very good job. All those old feelings will come flooding back, maybe not as intense as when we were teenagers, but everything was more intense back then. We'll have a better appreciation for each other because of all the people we've dated. And finally, after kissing all those frogs, he'll be my prince. And I'll be his queen. Compromises will have to be made, but we'll get past it because of our love.... but that's just my silly fantasy. What's more likely to happen is:
One day, we'll bump into each other. It'll be awkward because we know that we know each other from somewhere but can't quite remember from where. Nonetheless, we'll get into a conversation and suddenly recognize each other. He'll ask for my number and if we could hang out sometime. Remembering those feelings that once tortured me and the fantasy of our reunion fills me with excitement. "Finally," I think to myself, "we'll have our chance. I wasn't wrong after all" I wait a  whole week for him to call. He asks me out to lunch, a bad sign, but I remain optimistic. Maybe he just wants to spend the day with me. I nonchalantly accept the offer and am tortured by nervousness until the day arrives and he comes up to my apartment to pick me up. I'm dressed impeccably and he looks me up and down a few times, still shocked and how much prettier I've gotten over the years. I pretend not to notice and give him a grand tour of the place. It's small, but perfect for me. He meets my adorable dog, Audrey Hepburn. I'll offer him something to drink and he accepts. He doesn't seem very anxious to leave my comfortable space, so we sit on my couch and chat until we realize that hours have passed us by and his stomach is beginning to make monstrous noises. By this time, it's well past lunchtime and our lunch date has turned into a dinner date. I insist on changing into something more time appropriate, and he agrees to wait. I change into an even more fabulous outfit and his eyes very nearly pop out his head. Even little Audrey gives a bark of approval. As we're standing in my doorway, about to leave for dinner, he suddenly kisses me. My knees go weak and I'm shocked at the sudden fulfillment of my fantasies. But when I open my eyes, he has a look of terror. He apologizes profusely and bolts out of my building. I call after him, but he's gone. I collapse on to my bed and sob for hours until I pass out. In the morning, I look at my phone and see a text. It's from him. He apologizes again and asks if he can come over. I call him and tell him he missed his chance. I won't go through it again. I tell him to forget my number. He comes over anyway and I refuse to open the door. But, after he begs and pleads, I relent and I glare at him as he sits on my couch trying to find words. He finally confesses that he has a pregnant girlfriend, thus ending our relationship forever...
That's soooo unrealistic. Hahaha. He would NEVER run away from anyone, I'm sure of that. Especially not after kissing them. That was fun to imagine though. Anyway, I started to miss him again.I feel a little better after writing all that though. Writing is my therapy <3  I told you, I'm going to be okay.


Note: the label is the song that came on Viva-Radio when I wrote the last sentence of this post. Idk, I found it a little funny.

Summer of Suck [weekend six]

I've been blogging out my frustrations all weekend. So, see: This Post and This One and, if you haven't, This One! Only if you want to of course. Nothing really happened this weekend. I sat around being depressed, I waited for an email, and got into a fight(like, physical) that inspired this shit. So clicky, clicky if you care. If not, fuck off. :)

Retraction and Random Thoughts

I jumped the gun a bit. For now, I'm stuck in my misery. Like a prisoner, I'll be marking off the days until I'm free. Shouldn't be too long. I need time to fly faster than it's ever flown before. Time is my friend sometimes. It heals my wounds and makes me smarter. It's the most important vitamin. It's not completely my friend though. It's a frenemy. It sometimes likes to torture me by moving by so slowly that I feel as though I can almost feel myself rotting. I sometimes like to think of us all as slowly rotting. Alright, that's a little morbid. But it's a little bit funny to me. Once we stop growing, we begin to rot. Sometimes we speed up the rotting with drugs, alcohol, stress. I find it hilarious that by living, we're killing ourselves. I don't know, its my thought process. No one is forcing you to accept it. Anyway, I'm in my little hideaway, hiding away. It depresses me slightly that I can't make my hideaway my semi-permanent home, but at least it's here in case of near fatal mental breakdowns. That's comforting. I'm slightly depressed as it is. I hate to cite it as the cause of my uneven temperament, but I have no choice but to blame my monthly friend enemy as the reason for my bout of complete insanity. It literally causes a chemical imbalance within my body. There's such a stigma, I feel, against PMS. I hate the "oh no, stay away from her" aspect of it. It annoys me. My moods change from icy to heated in a matter of nanoseconds and you avoiding me or trying to make me feel better isn't helping. I think what I hate the most about the Evil Visitor, is the sudden surge of "friskiness". It makes me feel more desperate and lonely than any other time. I'm completely vulnerable those times. I'm totally weak. And yes, I hate it more than the cramps and bloating. I can deal with the physical pain. That's why Jesus made Drugs-Hallelujah. It's the sudden empty, worthless, I-Feel-Like-No-one-will-ever-love-me feeling. It wouldn't bother me if I were a whore. Or if I had someone who I felt really loved me(well, obviously). At least if I were a whore, I would go anywhere to get those seconds of bliss. It wouldn't mean anything to me to find some pig to roll around with to feel like someone likes me or thinks I'm cute. Because it's true, a girl can find a guy that's DTF anywhere. Throw a rock into a crowd full of (straight)guys and I guarantee no matter which one you hit, they'll be willing to fill your void(pun intended). The problem for me is, I don't know anything about that guy. I don't know what he's like or if he's nice. I may not love him. He may not love me. I need something secure to take that step. I mean, it may seem obvious to you, but, unfortunately, I know people who think it's okay that their vagina is a truck stop. It's not. At the end of the day, it's really not "just sex". It means something. Your body is something you should treasure and reserve for only the person you fully trust, understand, and love. Anything less just isn't worth it. Alright, let me step down from my soapbox. Back to the issue at hand: The Evil Visitor makes me want it BAD. I mean, I'm a teenage girl, obviously I think about it constantly, but it's EXPONENTIALLY worse when that bitch Aunt Flo is coming to town. Then, my desires turn into sharp needles tearing into my heart because there is no one to satisfy them. I spiral into a dark place where I feel as though no one will get me out. My fantasies rip through my flesh, begging to be fulfilled. But I say no, not by just anyone. My self control and strong will prevents any disasters, but the battle between my aching untouched body and my logic rages on, causing a terrible tumult within me. This is what I go through every month. Welcome to my life. It's not that great sometimes, but it's the only one I got.

Moving Out

I'm at my breaking point. I've come to the decision that I can't live here without being heavily medicated, killing someone, or killing myself. So, to avoid becoming addicted to pills, homicidal, or suicidal, I'm just going to move out. Why risk it? It's not worth it. Nothing is. Nothing is worth any of this. I can't stand being miserable in this shit hole while another place is just sitting there waiting for me to make it my home. This place isn't my home anymore. It's no longer a safe haven or sanctuary. It's become a place where I can't be comfortable. Where I can't stay for long periods of time without completely losing it. Where I can't be alone or have privacy or have anything that's mine. I can't do it anymore. I did it. I gave it a try. I tried to make it work. It's over. I'm done. I'm moving on. The only way to do that is move out and never look back. That's exactly wat I'm going to do. I'm done. These are not delirious thoughts. This is not coming from an angry place. I simply can not live here anymore. Not when there's another place where I can be happier. I'm going to sleep now. And when I wake up I'm leaving.

Time Goes By....So S L O W L Y

Time is moving so slow I can't stand it. I still didn't get the call for the second interview. My dad says the job is as good as mine. I really hope that's true. As soon as I get that job, I'm breaking out like a rash. I can't waaaiiiit. I'm so impatient. It's definetely one of my very worst traits. I'm sleepy. I've been imagining plans for how I'll decorate my apartment and who I'll invite to my housewarming. It makes me miss him a little bit. I wish things could have been different between us. I still wish he loved me. But, that's life. All your wishes can't come true or life would be perfect and there would be nothing to learn. Maybe my feelings are right and this isn't the end. One day, maybe he and I will be "us". For now, I can't deal with feeling neglected by him. I can't deal with feeling neglected by anyone. It hurts and I don't have to deal with it. So I won't. Anyway, I'm excited for the future and it's taking too long to get here. I found some super cool combat boots. I have half the money for it, I'll have to scrape up the rest later. Hopefully, I get it before school starts and I can wear them with high waisted denim shorts and my College Workshop tee. Omg, that would be sooo cute. With my sunglasses earrings and camera necklace. Awesome. I want to find a cool ring too. I also want a varsity jacket and high waisted leggings. And a pullover sweater, which I'll wear with and oversized button-down, leggings, and nerdy glasses. With my vintage-y oxfords. Super cute. I have staples now. I just need more. My wardrobe isn't cohesive because of my lack of staple pieces. I have to change that. I'm thinking of coloring my hair too. I need some Manic! I also need to get my curling iron from my grandma. I'm so tired. Why am I still awake? Oh yeah, because I hate the person I've been forced to share a room with my whole life so I'm on the stupid uncomfortable couch. I can't wait to get away from her forever. Bleh. That job will bring me so much closer to hat!!!! Please, oh please let me get that job!!!!! PLEASE!

WOOOO HOOOOO!!!!!

I'm super-dee duper-dee über duber excited!!!!! I got the e-mail for the second interview!!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!! I'm gonna get a call to set up a one on one interview for next week. I'm sooooo hype!!! I already know what I'm going to wear. I can't wait until the interview. I already know what I'm going to ask when they ask if I have a question for them. Oh wait, I think I forgot. Oh, I remember: being that _______ is a clothing store and there is an image to uphold, what will we be required to wear? I've heard that on certain days, an employee may have to wear a certain outfit is there any truth to this? When can I expect to hear back from you? Sooooo exciting. I hope I'm not too nervous and I don't say something slightly embarrassing. I hope it feels more like a nice conversation than an interview. That would be pretty cool. I'm really excited. Please, oh PLEASE let me get this job!!!! Then I can finally move out. I'll have my own little studio apartment and I'll be more independent and have as much freedom my little heart desires :D

Trying to Sort Through This Mess.

I need to clean out my brain. And heart. I wish I could just let go of all the crap that confuses me. Why can't emotions be as easy to throw out as the junk in our closets? It's so frustrating trying to get over someone or something when your stupid irrational heart is keeping you stuck. It shouldn't be this difficult for me to give up and move on. I shouldn't feel so atttached. I have no reason to be. He gives me that goddamn false hope. He makes me feel like he might actually think of me more than just a girl or a friend. Then, he takes it all back. I hate him. I feel like a stupid yo-yo. What could I have possibly done to deserve this? I think my dreams are huge red flags. I've had two dreams where I'm screaming at him. It's because I'm unhappy with the way things are. In the first dream, I'm angry at him because of his girlfriend. In the second dream, he wasn't supporting me and our "two kids". I think they were indicators that I need to do some spring cleaning on my phone and throw away his number. I did it. No more bullshit. I keep telling myself it needs to stop, but I never end it. Well, now it's over. He has a girlfriend, and I have my own life. I have bigger things to worry about. That's it. No more discussions. I should go to sleeep now.

Job Interview Update

So, I came home a little while ago from my job interview. It was a group interview, so we sat in a little circle while two interviewers asked us questions. I think I did pretty well, I really hope I get an email asking that I come in for a second interview. I was calm and collected. I knew the answer to a question that no one else knew the answer to. I already know what I'll wear if I get that email. I wear my linen dress with my new shoes. I wish I had a cute hat to go with it. I'm hopeful, but not too much. They said we would hear back sometime during the week for the job(or second interview I'm guessing). Please oh, please let me get this job!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!

Summer of SUCK [weekend four/five]

I fell behind because weekend four was the weekend before my birthday AND the most depressing weekend ever. Enough of my lame ass excuse, here's a recap of weekend four and five Condensed Edition!!!

Okay, Weekend Four: I was depressed for most all of it because I was so sure that my birthday was going to blow hard. Fortunately, my birthday turned out to be awesome. Unfortunately, the day before my birthday sucked really bad. I got into a huge fight and had the crappiest meal ever.

Now for Weekend Five: technically it's still in progress, but whatever. It was AWESOME. On Friday, I got the email from one of my favorite clothing stores saying that I could come in for an Open Interview. On Saturday, I got a haircut. I don't know why I was freaking out about it, I look way hot ;D. I feel more sophisticated, model-like, and confident. Later on, I went shopping for the perfect interview outfit. I pretty much found it. It's simple, yet stylish and trendy, without being desperate. Hopefully, I get a great pair of boots tomorrow(well, later) to make the outfit 100X better. Today(or yesterday, whatever) I slept a looong time. It was an über nap. I really needed it though. Anyway, overall this weekened was great. It seems to be a pattern, one weekend sucks, the next is way better...odd. Oh well, it wouldn't be normal for me if it wasn't like that. Please, oh please let me get that job!!! I feel like, I want it sooo bad that there's no way I WON'T get it. Please, let that be true. I want this job so bad.