Wednesday, August 29, 2007

scribbling

I don't know when, but I stopped being afraid
No longer afraid of the air
Full of poison and drowning me in everything;
I'm just living, existing, a blur of forgotten steps,
Except by you, or so I hope

I am hopeless
Missing you when what I miss
Is what we have now
I would break all the rules and laws
To convey my words without a sound
I would do anything and everything
To tell you
So I might let go and go on with my life
I will break everything
To live and learn and realize

I'm not afraid
I'm not afraid
I'm not afraid of anything
Except the thought of losing you
Maybe perfection is just
A series of flaws stitched together
To make up me and you
I will forgive you
If you will forgive me

Darkness comes before the sun goes down
Your absence is like losing all my senses
I could just breathe to know
You've left
And I'm not afraid
Because I'm putting all my trust
In a promise
Of return
And in return I only swear the truth
To be exhilarated by
Your smile, your touch, your kiss, your laugh
To be honest
If only to sell you on the truth

Whenever you leave
I am merely counting the days
Until you come back
I am not afraid of anything,
With your hand in mine,
I am not afraid of anything

~I have a tendency to write random little things that grow into big things that growl at me from between notebook pages until I share. I have a stack of these things.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Flowers for Sunday


I worked a wedding reception last night, and one of the bridal party members left behind their bouquet(which is spelled with two U's, apparently). It's a very pretty arrangement, though you can tell the flowers weren't meant to last long-they were wilting by the time I got them home. BUT! I cut off the bottom of the stems, at an angle(I think Martha Stewart tells you to do that?), and put 'em in water, and they've perked up a little. Which is awesome, because it's really nice to walk into the kitchen and see a bunch of roses perched on the kitchen table.

Monday, August 20, 2007

they gained a few cool points

I'm back on facebook. I am happy and am probably being obnoxiously annoying at this point, but I don't care. It only took three months, and a ridiculous amount of text to get here.

Now, to poke, post on walls, and change my status so much that the computer makes an angry whirring noise and curses me out in four different languages at the same time.

Hey, stranger things have happened.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

seeing myself

"Ow.. ouch, ow... hot, ow ow ow."

"Izzy, what are you doing?"

"Trying to pick off the onions."

"Oh. Why don't you use a fork?"

I would say something about how this should've been obvious, I mean, the kid is pretty smart and all, getting a fork out to pick onions off of pizza shouldn't be that hard of an idea to form, right?

But I'm the girl who will bite something, yell some variation of the above, and then take another bite.

All the people who tell me I am a smart girl, or think I am and imply so in conversation with me, really should spend 24 hours with me.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Facebook used to be cool

Back in May, I was kicked off Facebook. I talked about it, I bitched about it, and I e-mailed the hell out of their customer service representatives, first dealing with a lovely guy that blew me off with the casualness of someone who could not care less, because he didn't care at all. Then I e-mailed through another e-mail I found on the site. That time, I got a very pleasant, helpful worker who answered all of my questions, and finally was able to reassure me that, once I had my university account, they could reactivate my account. With that knowledge, I settled back to wait out the long, dull summer, made duller by the lack of walls, events, and the stalker feed.

On Tuesday, I got my shiny, lovely e-mail and sent off an e-mail to facebook. Like a kid knowing they were going to get the present they'd been asking for all year for Christmas, I was content, ready for the 'okay, just e-mail us from the new address and you'll be back online!' reply that would surely come. After all, I had my e-mail, which was all I needed. I had no reason to worry.

I really should just be a pessimist. It would be better for me, and the world in general. Well, I might not have my sparkling on the spot wit, but my cynicism would be the best on the block.

Instead, I got asked to e-mail the customer service rep all of the e-mails that had been exchanged up until this point, from my new e-mail. I'd kind of expected that, and happily obliged, though a cold pit of worry was worming it's way into my stomach. This wasn't helped by the slow response to my initial e-mail, as if they could care less if I was on there or not. Which, really, do they? All I represent to them is another single digit that will bring them a few cents, perhaps even a whole dollar, of revenue from ads.

Finally, today, around five(which would be two California time), I got a reply, telling me I couldn't re-join because they don't recognize 'that school'. Uh, yeah, duh, that's why I e-mailed once I got my school e-mail. Unless they don't recognize OU as a school and plan to kick off every member of the university's network, I'm allowed to be on facebook now. I told the rep this.

The more I interact with the facebook customer service reps, the more I am disappointed by the people. Fine, I get that you want to hang out with your co-workers and talk about that party so-and-so had last night, but could you pay attention to my problem? Please? Considering all you have to do is go 'oh, you have a valid .edu account, I just clicked the re-activate button, have a nice life'?

Apparently this is too much effort for such a well used and populated site.

Most people get kicked off facebook for a few hours, and only because the site itself is down. Me? I've been off for three months, all because I'm home-schooled, and when I can finally re-join, I get told to contact them on my eighteenth birthday, as if that is the ultimate gift. Never mind that I have a valid .edu account, which they say on their site is all you need to join a university network.

I am so angry over this. I feel like I am being told I did something wrong, when I did nothing, and when I finally have the ability to correct the problem, I get told that nothing has changed, leave us alone, and, by the way, don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

One year, give or take a few hours

It's been one year to the day since I got my learner's permit, and so today, I got my license.

I took the test last week, but killed a cone, which is considered a 'dangerous action' and an immediate failure of the maneuverability part of the test. For some reason, I was convinced that I had to take the written exam again, to get my license, so I spent most of last night and part of this morning reviewing. Which is good, it'll help keep me a good driver, those hours of obsessive reviewing. But it's aggravating to know that when I was baby-sitting last night, I could've been reading Color of Magic rather then the Digest of Ohio Motor Vehicle Laws (or something like that). Also, did you know that you only have to do one side to pass the maneuverability portion? 'Cause I didn't. But I did it and I have the awful photo ID to prove it (my OU student ID is better, and I didn't think I would be saying that). It took a ridiculous amount of hours with homemade cones this past week, but I'm licensed, and as soon as I have a car, people will be getting visited. Once I figure out how to read a map.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

twitter.com/fusionofme

I love my twitter. It lets me keep the world updated, 140 characters at a time.

this feels familiar

This is probably the third or fourth time I've started a blog on here. This one might stick. Mostly because I have too much time on my hands, and it's this or perfecting my ability to say 'I like cereal' like Cheese.