Let me tell you Guys something. . .

Women are smart. Women are to be treasured, not treated like meat or mules — not specifying myself this time, but this post does spawn from something that happened to me today. The expression “a woman’s intuition” is not figurative, but literal, and it is not something you should underestimate.

When you approach a lady, and I do mean lady and not tramp, doing something that makes you look dorky or maybe even a little corny is absolutely okay! In my opinion, it makes you look more open to accepting the many traits that make us look dorky. Most women pull their strongest and most bubbly personalities when others around them seem nervous, including myself.

But something that is too staged or too practiced, like a terrible pick-up line, or sleazy size-up from across the room, is not going to impress her; in fact, it would probably turn a lady off. It will make her suspicious, so — Honest to God — be yourself, even if yourself isn’t the coolest, or most attractive person they could be. Honesty can never make a bad first impression, so try a little of that next time you’re planning on hitting on a girl in a crude or overtly sexual manner.

A guy so very ignorant to this concept tried to pick me up this morning while I was working my 7-4pm shift at our local breakfast joint. He actually came back to the counter and asked for a job application just so he could talk to me, and in the same sentence he asked if he could have my Name, Number for a “reference” on the application. Instantly, of course, I knew the whole thing was bullshit. I almost asked for the application back so we wouldn’t just waste the paper, but I thought that might give the wrong impression to him. Despite the fact that he wasn’t my type, looked way too old for me, and had a glaze to his eyes that signaled a little trouble to me, I thought if he was brave enough to ask for my number, that maybe I should give him a shot. It is not every day that I’m approached like this. Also, if someone has the kahones to ask, that has to say something positive about their personality, right?

Well our text conversation continued through the day; I learned that his name was Zac, that he was 24 (a whole 6 years jump from my own age), and that he thought I was beautiful despite the horrible get up I must wear to work. At first, I was so impressed with his bluntness and how sincere he seemed, that I was gladly responding to him. But through the few hours that passed next, his words became less cute, and more vulgar. Asking for pictures of me that I didn’t have and would never take (or give for that matter), talking about different parts of my anatomy he really shouldn’t mention  unless he wanted to seem sleazy, and going so far as to send me pictures of his own anatomy. Deleted. Erased. Gone, thank God.

And what did this chameleon male say when I promptly told him I was not that type of girl, and that I was interested in someone else? He said, word-for-word, “I’m not tryin to marry you and I saw it in your eyes you wanted me.” If I have a single guy reader, anywhere out there in the world, please read the following sentence carefully and accept it into your heart: If you want to hear a girl laugh, tell her what she’s thinking.  Because I promise you that no matter how sensitive you are, you’re probably way off in left field.

Not only was he wrong, but he also raised a giant red flag with that sentence and a few following this statement, which led to him being ignored completely. His name has been changed to “That Dick Zac Guy” in my phone, and if it is even possible I am now more cautious over what kind of guy I’ll look at twice.

So, again: women are smart, and they are to be treasured. If you have one, grab her and hold her close; if you don’t have one, keep looking. She’s looking for you too, actively.


Someone who needs clarification.

If you enjoy an experience with someone a little too soon, that doesn’t make it wrong, but does it count as a mistake? Even if you don’t regret anything that happened, do you still consider it “moving too fast”?

I think I need to take a step back and assess my own feelings, first off. I have so much baggage that I will carry into any relationship in the future, and that baggage (example: my abandonment issues, my “slightly” protective nature) needs to be categorized and filed in the correct places before I move on. My feelings for my ex weren’t even solidifed, the good or the bad feelings, before these new ones popped up…

You see, if I am left alone with my thoughts, my mind naturally zeroes in on the thing that has been bothering me the most that day. This usually happens when I’m lying in bed wanting to go to sleep. Sucks because then I start tearing up before sleep, and it’s then impossible to go to sleep. My friends were here to distract me and cuddle me last night, so I wasn’t really alone to overanalyze everything.

But now that I layed here in my bed thinking about the really great and sometimes intense things that happened the other night, I get this weird feeling that I have to be careful. I don’t want to be careful: I want to live and truly trust someone with my happiness. But once again I’m struck with that need to be SO cautious with where I place my heart. If I seriously give up my passion to someone, completely — my virtue even? That is a big. deal. To me and to a lot of people in my life.

So tonight I’m going to turn on the TV, distract my ears and hopefully my thoughts, and then tomorrow when I’m of sound mind and clear eyes, I will give myself a reality check. How serious I plan on getting how fast, and just how mature I want/need to act in this situation.

Some might tell me: you sound like such a girl. That is probably because I am one, and despite all the shit I’ve tried to throw at my emotions to bog them down, they will always come crawling back into my conscious and either praise me or tsk-‘tsk’ at me.

I do know one thing. With you I feel more delicate and cared for. For a soft moment there, an intense but insanely sweet night, I felt safe. I even felt a little hope.  & everything in me is terrified — more than anyone can imagine — that I’m being used. I don’t want to feel that, but after a little serious thought my mind dabbled in that conclusion.

Some horrible philosopher somewhere down the line of ages said: Happiness is fleeting. What a horrible concept, and one my subconscious seems to have adopted as the motto to chant at me. But I’ll be damned if I don’t try to hold as tight as I can to that happiness.

🙂 Goodnight wordpress.

Story One.

Love has been corrupted
in the limelight of modern age;
subtleness became overrated,
while scandolous women snag the best catch.

I am a subtle woman,
but a passionate one first.
A man,
a worldly man with wordly needs
and mischief in his eyes,
is to whom I am attentive.
Love means more now,
passion is more evident,
and my virtue is in more danger than ever.

I can’t seem to mind.
Caring for another person more than you care for yourself,
striving to please them,
secure them to your side,
is just a sideeffect of this feeling.

My past is riddled with holes,
where the fabric has worn thin and creatures,
malignant and indifferent,
have crashed their way through.
I am an open snare,
holding on to the only thing that can tear me apart.

So, it’s not a poem, but it’s a story. Maybe I’ll just write stories from now on ((:

Me vs. the Summer

Round One.

Some things you should know about me, I like to walk barefoot in the sunshine, I like to run through the woods ’till my heart hurts, it’s pounding so fast; I want to spend every day outside, under bright blue skies, with a breeze and a chorus of mockingbirds ringing in my ears. We have so many around here — if you know where to look.

I love the smell of lavendar and fresh honeysuckles blooming on each side of the Georgian road. My senses pick up on things like this and I’m transformed back into a little girl in my parents’ front yard. Back when my parents were still together. Back when my sisters were involved in my life, and graduating high school seemed forever away. I’ve changed a lot since then, — hell, I have changed a lot since last year (:

In fact, there’s apparently a change going on in me right now that crept up on me. I’ve had friends ask me what was different, what had changed: I tell them the truth, because I can’t deny it and, of course, I don’t want to.

My ex-“boyfriend”, David, who after only talking to me for 10 minutes, asked do you love him?
Scared the hell out of me.
But a part of me, the specific part that keeps him in my mind half the day, has reserved a lot of feelings for him. I can keep them all to myself, well myself and you, wordpress, until he is physically here and I can see how he responds. But love? Me?!

I’m not saying I’m going off and marrying him tomorrow — Lord knows I’m not ready to do that with anyone, any time in the near future. But the possessive feeling is there, the lust is there, and more importantly, the care is there. I care for someone more than I can let on, because he’s a guy, and because he doesn’t want this to move any faster than it already is. Once again, Miss Rational inside me must agree with him. I am the one who has had a long distance relationship before, but I am also the one that was hurt by it. So I don’t think he understands that I am “reluctant” too. But somehow, Miss Rational has been bullied by Mrs. I Don’t Care. (:

Don’t you love my analogies? *cue cheeky grin*

So, anyway. the Summer. It’s coming fast, and I want it to run back to wherever the hell it came from. Swimming and playing outdoors (yes, I’m in my late-teens, and yes, I still play outside) is nice ‘n all, but I need a cool sanctuary to relax in with my jackets and long sleeves. Tank tops and bathing suits are not my fashion.

Reasonably, Mother Nature is on my side with the weather. She has been fighting it here in the South too. The past few weeks we would have three days of violent, scorching heat, and then two where it either rained, or the wind blew so hard you couldn’t keep anything tied down. I love those days the most. Wind is power; a power is awesome to watch act itself out.

I want to start writing poetry again, but I need my inspiration. If I were to write right now, my main topics would include my post-graduation Fears, my Longing, or my Frustration with my music. So. I’m going to put it off for a little bit, and if I can actually come up with something decent on Love or even Lust, I’ll let you guys know (:

Questions, comments, concerns?
Here’s my weekly song quote, and also what I’m #nowplaying. This quote has a lot of power, but I think it’s in the way his voice ends it.

“Can you feel my trigger hand
moving further down your back
When you hide,
hide inside that body,
but just remember that when I touch you
the more you shake,
the more you give away…”

( Evans Blue )

relief, in a sea of bad.

Oh, friggin, yeah!

I have FOUR A’s, TWO B’s, and one C. Most people would be like, wow, you have a C…that’s bad. But NO. And that C is in my easiest class, because we had one summative (test) grade that I didn’t turn in. So soon enough I should have FIVE A’s and two B’s, and those are probably the best grades I’ve had in a long, long time.

Okay, I have to go (the bell’s about to ring), but I just wanted to tell you all that 🙂 Even in my AP class — A  90!!


I passed!

Okay, that shouldn’t be such a big deal for most kids – then again, most kids are used to getting really good report cards.

I didn’t fail anything, but I did manage to get three C’s. 😦 I know, horrible achievement and blah, blah, blah. I’m a senior and I should have a B average and blah, blah, BLAH. I don’t. It’s over with. I’m not worried about it.

I have a feeling that the next six-eight months is going to be a severe wake-up call for my family. They have gone through the years of my life thinking of  me as the smartest girl in the family (roughly), the girl with the most potential to go on to college and bring in a great pay-check later on in life. And as much as I want to believe that too…I’m sorry, but it’s not going to happen. If I do graduate in June, which I really think I can, I will have to go to a state college for the first two years, and hope that I can get my average up high enough to qualify for the popular State Scholarship  around here.

This Haiti stuff is really getting to me. They have so much to worry about that us here in southern America don’t. Right now they’re worrying whether or not they will receive their next meal, or a drink of water. My peers worry about not having gas money to go shopping, and whether or not their truck is dirty enough.

I’m planning on donating blood here in the next few weeks, maybe sooner. I think I’ll have to plan it all out, sign up and get the dates and then tell my mom. She’s all for love and kindness, but anything she thinks might “threaten” her daughter makes her all puffy and maternal. Nice timing, right?

I also want to donate bone marrow, as I’ve said in a previous post, but I must be 18 or have parental consent — and I know for a F.A.C.T. that when my mom gets all the information about how dangerous it is and how painful it’s supposed to be, really, really painful, the answer is going to be a big NEGATIVE. But I want to do it, because that kind of thing saves lives. It’s rare to have a matching bone marrow specimen, so the more donors they have, the more likely they are to find a match for an ailing person.

I’m researching, filling myself with knowledge so that maybe when she starts arguing, I’ll have facts to back up my reasoning.


Recovery, post #1.

On one hand, I’m glad no one reads this blog.
And on the other, I wish more people read it, so I could get more feedback on the shit I punch out into cyberspace.

I am recovering from a dramatic turn of events; it’s a mental recovery, and I don’t think it’ll last long at all.

As I sort of noted before, I’m not sure who reads this blog, so I am going to be careful about the lies I divulge here. One of which was so gargantuate (sp?) and complex that even I got caught up in it. I didn’t want it to be a lie, but a lie it was, and eventually I had to tell the truth.

JulieABee, as she’s known online, is the one person I told about this lying problem that actually tried to help me. And help she did: she got me to confess two of my darkest problems; the two Big Ones that I haven’t told another soul. Only she knows one  of them, while the other was told to my best friend – and that’s it.

When you keep something quiet, it easily becomes your dirty little secret. You don’t have to talk about it, so you don’t have to feel as guilty or ashamed of it, therefore you keep doing it. Anyone that hears that might utter a “duh!”, but when you are the one hiding something, it doesn’t seem so obvious.

My bad habit is gone. There’s some good news. I’m still smoking (completely unrelated) whenever I get nervous and can get my hands on some. The last time I smoked, and it was just one, was at the Viewing (day b4 funeral) of the man who’s been my non-related grandfather for the past 7-10 years. The time before that, it was two I lifted off a friend of mine. I am yet to feel any “craving” for them, or anything like that. Guess you have to smoke alot more before any sort of addiction grows. I just smoke because it gives me something to occupy my hands with while I sort out the thoughts in my head. “D.A.R.E.” program be damned. They never told us how fucking hard it would be to be a teenager. They just said stay away from the baaaaaad cigs.

I’m gonna go off a few Formspring questions, http://formspring.me/WolfyJ, browse through twitter, http://twitter.com/wolfylavallie, and finish a book I’ve been reading “Tempted”, by P.C. Cast, part of her and her sister’s House of Night series. WICKED good. 🙂


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