It Was The Best Of Times, It Was The Worst Of Times

This one's about the time--last night, actually--that I blew off what I supposed to do and did something completely impulsive. My home town, or the town I go to school in at least, had a street dance last night as a part of Harvest Days, a big thing we do around here. It was topped off with a concert from Andy Gibson, a very hot and very gay cover singer.

Upon arrival, I found my friend, Kassidy, and we set off on our adventure. We had around two to three hours before the concert started, so we figured we would spend our time walking around the small town and grabbing a bite to eat. On our walk, we saw a few of our friends, one we call Waagen, one named Dylan, and a third boy we did not know yet. He was new here. His name was Nathan.
We then hung out with them.

It so ended that Kassidy, Nathan, and I were all hungry, so we went to the nearest gas station/pizza place. On the way, Nathan gave Kassidy a piggy back ride.

Later, we made our way to the park, where no one hangs out. It was filled with rusty swings and a very, very painful merry-go-round. Dylan left at some point, leaving it as just the four of us, until our other friend Jessica showed her face. And somehow, we ended up on the merry-go-round, with just Waagen spinning us, and by spinning us, I mean killing us. I was holding on by my hands and left leg--I found out later that I pulled a muscle in my thigh because of that. Nathan was upside down. Kassidy fell off. Jessica was totally chill. I ended up punching Waagen in the nuts in order to get him to stop spinning us, as I'm sure I wasn't the only one about to throw up.

Nathan stopped us and we all collapsed onto the grass, too dizzy to stand.

We hung out there for a while before resuming our walking. That was a lot of exercise.

Later, when it was dark, we went to the concert, paying ten dollars only to go in, see a few people we didn't really like, and then leave to walk again. But apparently, one of our "friends" Galle, thought we were giving her dirty looks, which we weren't. She has this jealousy complex, which is really annoying. No one can know people that she doesn't, because of some messed up reason, I don't know.
So, she called Kassidy and bitched her out, saying to come back and pick her up so she could walk with us, no doubt harass to Nathan, who she didn't know.

Nathan did not like the idea of her, and as we were at the park again, decided he'd stay there and swing. I, not really feeling the annoying personality of Galle, decided that I would stay with him while the other two picked her up.

Now, mind you, Nathan was flirting all night long. It was obvious he was flirting with Kassidy more, but there was still something there. I was thinking, hey, this guy's from Florida, maybe he's not afraid of just being out there, right?

All we did was go on the seesaw, which actually did sound like we were having sex, but it wasn't as if we broke down some wall and were prepared to start making out.

Galle had decided to just walk home to her grandmas because she was too mad at us, which I didn't really mind.

Jessica left when she met her friend, Claire, and so it was just a threesome of two girls he had flirted with all night and the new--and attractive--boy.

We swung by his house and realized no one was home. That's  we made the weird decision to just go into his house, a boy we didn't know, and hang out until 1am. He gave us ice cream and I was presented with a lovely glass of vodka lemonade. Don't even question it, it is delicious. We then decided to watch Fear Island because heck, why not watch a horror movie with a boy you don't know. God, I was third wheeling so hard. I was ready to shoot myself in the face. Oh, did I forget to mention the fact that he said Kassidy was hotter than me? But you know the worst thing about the night, he fucking pity flirted with me because he didn't want me to feel left out. Honestly, I should have just booked it and met up with Waagen and a guy named Garret, who coincidentally liked me and was with his cousin who was actually attractive. So, although I had a fantastic time, you know impulsiveness, alcohol, I still felt like a total fucktard by the end of the night.
Fucking Florida boys.

One-Liners

There's a fine line between love and hate, and that's why I think I try so hard, hoping maybe someday, somehow, you'll trip face first over it and love me back.

Dem Thoughtz 4#

         I think I know why best friends fall in love. Nothing's hidden. Nothing's masked. With every new, embarrassing thing you discover about them, you love them more and more. And soon enough, you realize it's not just platonic anymore.


I've never understood love or what it feels like. I don't get it and I fear I never will. I think it may be a lot like your best friend. You like almost everything about them. The way they laugh and talk. How they don't care if they insult you because they know you'll insult them right back. It's these things that make you fall for them in a way that you'd never imagine. A special way. And soon enough, you realize that maybe this is love. Maybe love isn't staring deeply into eachother's eyes. Or kissing in the rain. Maybe love is accepting eachother for exactly what they are. Not caring how bad they look in the morning or how incredibly annoying they are. It's wanting to see them ever day just to talk to them, just to see their shining face once more. And if this is love. If this is the incredible, powerful feeling everyone talks about...I'm screwed.

Dem Thoughtz 3#

I recently read a book about a girl who fell in love with a prince in a book and somehow, he came to life. And can you guess how they ended up? He got out of the book and they lived happily ever after. Obviously.
Isn't that what we all dream for? We want out prince to be thrust upon us, to be presented with the opportunity of true love. But can we be so lucky?
What percentage of real life people are going to meet their prince? Are going to stumble across some perfect being who sweeps them off their feet or saves them from peril? I'm only assuming it's a small one.
I live in the type of place where the closest to a prince you can get is a farmer who is well off and owns a large, John Greene tractor. Your carriage is most likely a Ford truck (Chevy for the losers) and your ball gown is a battered pair of cut-offs. So, for someone like me, to imagine a majestic prince swooping in to love me, would be one of the most absurd ideas.
For others, their prince would be a little easier. People who live right next door to a famous celebrity. People who live in England and are the most gorgeous people ever (in case you couldn't tell, I was referencing a real prince). It could happen for them, and I guess it could happen for me too, but I would really have to try.
But I guess that's the point of what I'm saying here. Most of the princesses you've heard or read about have simply sat around, waiting for their prince to come for them, and by some random stroke of luck, he did. But that doesn't always happen in real life. You have to work hard for something. If you want your prince, you have to go out there and find him. If you think you have found him, you have to try to get  him. Staring from afar will get you no happily ever after. If you have him, you have to keep working to hold on to him.
Don't lose hope in your dreams. You can achieve them, and if it's not exactly as you wished, you will still have some sort of amazing thing in your midst. And if you ever lose motivation, remember that there are people out there who are going to get to date or marry those really hot people.
(J-Hutch, Ian Somerhalder, 1D, etc.)
You could be one of them.
I probably won't, though. 'Cause, I mean, you know.

Dem Thoughtz. 2#

Sometimes, I just stare at things in no particular. Like, I'll pick something near me and stare at it, but not only stare at it, but I stare at the edge of it, the boundary between it and the background.
It's like when my eyes cross, the line goes blurry, and I think that maybe that's how all of life is.
Undefined. Unabsolute. Uncertain.
You can never be sure which edge is the real one when they're all jumbled together, foggy and undetectable like they are.
And so I stare on, and I imagine what it would be like if all edges were blurry or disfigured. If the world would be a lot harder to digest, if life would be a different concept, if everything we knew would be more open and altered.
I think and I wonder, what if I was a blurred line, a flawed edge, what would happen to me then? What if I already am one? What if we're all blurred lines, flawed edges? What if none of us are for certain, just different views in people's eyes, changing with ever shift of the eyeball?
Then I think, maybe we all are, in a way.

Must Be a Different Universe

This one's about the time that I, Chris, girl who is ignored by any and all men, was asked out.
You know those moments where everything is just happening, you're going along with life like normal, nothing out of the ordinary?
I was having one of those. I was sitting at home after a long day of the tortures of school, sipping a glass of water and snapchatting my friends. I don't usually like apps like snapchat, where you have to capture your essence on a camera for all to see, but for some reason I was feeling oddly more attractive than I usually am. I was simply talking to two of my friends, one girl and one boy, and we were having nice, fun conversation, and then out of nowhere, it all ended.
Like all good, innocent things, it came to an end. I thought, hey, maybe we're getting to the realm of where we can just text and there won't be any weird feelings going on, but no he had sneak up behind me and butt fuck it all up.
The guy simply sends one saying 'hey you wanna go out its OK if you don't.'
Well way to put a girl on the spot. I know for a fact from experience that when they say "it's OK if you don't," it is almost never actually like that. That means, "If you say no I'm going to be crushed but this is my way of pretending I'm aloof." Trust me, I know, I've used that phrase before.
And of course, with what I previously said, the whole no feelings thing, I immediately cringed and kind of sat staring at my iPod screen, trying to think of a nice way to dump his ass.
He put me on the spot! How do you just have the nerve to put someone on the spot like that? And can I just mention that right now, I'm trying to get my best friend to set me up with some guys so I can finally have a boyfriend, and now here I am, seconds away from getting that, but the only thing I can think is, "No!!!"
So I say, oh so slyly, sorry but no and this is what I get back. "OK," with a drawn face holding a gun to its head. Really? Really??
I already felt like a big enough dick, there was no need to make it worse. Honestly.
As much as I would have liked to say yes and be that nice girl who had a boyfriend, he is so not my type, and honestly, being the nice girl is kind of boring. And OK, let me a shallow bitch, but he is so not hot enough.
I mean, come on, I was asked out by a really hot nineteen year old from New Jersey, I deserve better than this, right? Ha, that was an inside joke, I'm sorry.
Welp, signing off.

Once Upon A Time

Back in the day, in the mystical land that was once my school, there was this boy. This boy...I tell you, was...something. Some-thing.
What was it about him, pray tell, you ask.
Well gosh, I don't know. I don't know what was so special about him. He was simply...him.
The legacy of Mason and Chris began at a very early age. I recall I was practically a fetus when we first met, the pair of us toddlers, still in our highchairs and pull-ups. My mom babysat him nearly every day, along with my old best friend, Celine. Celine lived, and still does live, somewhere around a mile away from me, on the shores of a lake where I would while away my childhood hours swimming and joking.
Anyway, the three of us quickly became best friends, that is until we went off to Kindergarten and I never did hang out with her too much after that. But Mason and I, we had something special, we had the kind of friendship you couldn't just diminish. At least that's what I had thought.
I'm not going to say some cock and bull story about how perfect we were together, because it honestly wasn't like that, and believe me, this is all from my perspective, so if you hear otherwise from him, point no fingers.
Life happens. School happens.
It's pretty typical for a boy and a girl to just grow apart, unless they were utterly inseparable. We weren't like that. As much as I would love to say that, I can't. We're like any other person in this world. We had different interests and clearly the connection I thought we had had at the time was simply a product of availability. We hung out because we saw each other every day, and although we still did so at school, he had friends who were boys, who liked the same things as he did, and I had girls who liked the same things that I did. It's simple.
I wasn't heartbroken, or any sob story line like that, I was indifferent. We still talked, hung out a little, we didn't ignore each other, after all, how could you ignore anyone when you have a class of ten, and then nine people?
I had close friends; Kayla, Morgan, Vanessa, and Galle. Galle was the closest, but we had a sort of falling out when I became closer with Kayla and her with Morgan. Vanessa was sort of Switzerland.
He had his close friends; Cody, Nick, Levi, and Jayden. They were also my close friends down the line.
We had our own lives, it was as simple as that. We didn't mind. Until...
I admit it now, I'm a weird kid. I grew up fast, and by fast I mean speed of light fast. My friends were thinking about fractions and I was thinking about boys. So honestly, to me, it's really no surprise that I started liking Mason so quickly.
I can't remember it that well, but it was like there was some sort of connection, some sort of "Whoa" moment where I realized that maybe I liked him as a little more than a friend. After all, he was the cutest boy in the class and the most desirable. We also had our brief past.
So boom, I had my first crush. Followed shortly after by my second, Cody, who used to like me also. But yet, there is my head saying "No, you idiot, you like Mason" and therefore, I liked Mason.
This liking lasted, and in the fourth grade, I do believe, I got up the lady balls to do something I quite honestly regret.
You see, I have a bit of a track record with jealousy. Ahh yes, the giant green monster. My friend Kayla liked him also, and being the envious little brat I was, I thought she was going to steal my future husband out from under me. It's that little nagging thought that drove me to do the worst thing I've probably ever done.
I wrote a note. 'Oh, Chris it's just a measly note, nothing to get too worked up about!' Yeah, that's what you think. It was no measly note, because in it I unleashed my inner asshole. I'm not even sure I want to tell you what it said, but make note that I had wrote this in the middle of math class under my desk with a bright red pen and no time to think it over. It was not nasty per say, but it involved something along the lines of 'I like-like you' and a small poll of if he liked me or if he liked Kayla. Remember how jealous of her I was? Oh yeah, this is my bad side.
Needless to say, I slyly slid the note over into his vicinity on the bus after school, and I ended up with a crumpled piece of paper getting chucked at my face with a large 'NOOO!!!' written in shiny gray pencil.
A part of me died that day.
But of course, being the relentless little bastard that I am, I didn't give up like any normal human being would, no I continued to like him because apparently, I believed he liked me back, despite what he flung at me.
I had reasons, though. I had been told he liked me by his best friends. He blushed a lot whence asked if he liked me. And he picked on me a lot. I think in child rules, that qualifies as a crush, does it not?
Thus, I liked him through fifth grade, through the cruel split that was my school closing and us going to two separate schools, through the Wednesdays of religion classes where he slowly started ignoring me, through the general departure of one another from each other's worlds.
I'm not entirely sure if I still like him or not, I mean, I think I do, but I also like some of the new boys I've encountered at my new school.
All I know is this:
He has adorable blue eyes.
He has a cowlick in the front of his hair so it's never really been long.
He loves the Redskins.
He gave me some of his Pokemon cards when I know it took him a long time to get the money to buy them.
He likes my glasses.
He's really into sports, basketball mostly, I think.
He has the most adorable crooked smile.
He is probably the sweetest person I've ever met.
And maybe, somewhere along the line, after four years of crushing hard...
I've fallen for him.
Maybe I'll never know, though.

Holly-freaking-wood Un-freaking-dead, Bitches

Back in the day, I went to this...event. It was a fun event, trust me! And by fun, I mean best time of my life.
So it was last summer, right, and my sister and I had suddenly become crazy obsessed with the band Hollywood Undead. Still are. Always will be.
Our sort of hometown, but not really hometown, was hosting a Rock Fest, which is basically a huge ass concert in which like six different rock bands join together and give us the time of our lives. Now, living in rural South Dakota, you wouldn't expect such large bands--or such large crowds for that matter--to come and entertain us all, but lo and behold, here come the holy ones!
Core, Eve to Adam, Candlelight Red, Trapt, and finally, the band that was sent down purely from the Gods above, Hollywood Undead. They came trooping in, their numerous trucks and jeeps gleaming in the hot July sun, and they took over my life.
The bands performed in the order of which I listed them above, meaning Core, which featured a male with atrociously long black hair as the lead singer, warmed us all up in a way the beating sphere of fire in the sky could not. Receiving an autograph from up close and personal, I took a small portion of that band home with me.
Eve to Adam blared on next, riling me up beyond my words. Take an oddly hot, shirtless, gleaming with sweat singer, throw in a few hot Chinese guitarists, and you have the band that took up most of the memory space on my digital camera.
Candlelight Red then took the spotlight, and truthfully, the dulled the light so far down, I couldn't see my own hands. I was bored halfway into the second song, so bored in fact, that I just so happened to become dehydrated with the 90-100 degree weather, and bordered on fainting. It was like the darkness had taken over me; I saw black all around, it was like I was bathed in a downpour of liquid ice, and I felt like I was going to hurl up the single bottle of water I had nourished my body with that day. My sister, however, saved me from my peril by dumping an entire bottle of water down my throat and forcing me to lean over the guard rail while the uber buff security guards asked numerous times if I was OK.
Surviving the icy hand of unconsciousness and a nearly lost to-die-for spot, I managed to stand up tall and prepare myself for Trapt to sweep me off my feet.
And sweep they did. My feet were figuratively sticking up in the air like the Wicked Witch's sister when the house fell on top of her. As the sun went down, the energy levels soared up. Dancing, groping, and shrieking the words of the songs ensued. That was also when my friend that had come along with my sister and I did faint. Whether it was from dehydration or heat stroke, we may never know, but within seconds of the fourth song, she was draped over the guard rail, shaking like an epileptic. She was in fact carried out of her perfect, front row standing spot by a guard with muscles the size of Texas itself. Being the frail creature she was, it was no trouble for her to be tossed over the gate where she was lead to our other friends to get food and water.
My sister and I stayed in our spot, not daring to lose the precious vantage point at which we were.
And finally, whence the sun was long gone, the moon was high in the sky, and the weather was still blazing like the fiery inferno it was, the set was switched and out came Holly-freaking-wood Un-freaking-dead.
The bad ass MCs ran onto the stage and introduced themselves, telling up how much they came to like the vast expanse of shit that was our state. Although I doubted their words, I accepted that as they opened up with Undead, the first song of theirs I ever heard.
I remember it like it was yesterday. Fifth grade, the land of closing schools and leaving friends, was when my sister miraculously found the glorious band and illegally...I mean completely legally, downloaded the fateful song onto my old fashioned MP3 player. If I had known it would cause me to spiral into a deep pit like this, I would probably have smiled and just let it happen. It has been by far the most fun downfall I have had.
Everyone was reeling from the entrance these men had made, as was I, and my friend who had fainted had somehow fought her skinny way back up to my sister and I, along with the other friends--a couple who have been together a year now, and another girl that we all secretly hate but aren't brave enough to tell it to her face--just in time for this show to start.
Their set list was by far the longest of the night, premiering some of their newer ones that had not yet come out, such as Bullet and Mother Murder.
In the middle of the song City, just as Charlie Scene was in fact saying "This city looks so pretty, do you want to burn it with me," the speaker directly in front of the gorgeous bastard went up in flames. I found the irony especially comical.
One of the attractive Chinese guitarists from the earlier band was standing literally a half a foot away from me, causally resting against the guard rail while I casually had a panic attack.
And thus, like all good things come to a tragic end, the bid us a quick adieu and exited the stage. We were all very upset, and like the complaining babies we were, we all started singing their songs to get them to come back out, and lo and behold, like a star shining through the dark night, a single, echoing call sounded.
"Everywhere I go!"
As you can imagine, the crowd went absolutely bonkers, responding the the call and return with the acclaimed, "Bitches always know!" and we were then faced with the return of the reason of my existence
As the boys flooded back onto the stage, the night started right back up, almost as if we were living it once again, and sometimes, I wish I could.
They exited for real, finally, with what song I do not know, and on the way off of the stage, Charlie Scene himself removed his sweaty shirt, handing it to, no not me, but the girl who had rudely shoved herself up in between the celebrity and I. The greedy little rat took possession of the one thing that I aspired to own in my entire life. Deserting us at last, they disappeared and the massive crowd piled out of the gates.
On our way out, like the way in, we met up with our cousin whom is a year older than I. He was the one who first informed us of this spectacular concert and bought us the tickets, thus making me forever in his debt.
As my parents picked the three of us, that being my sister, her skinny friend, and I, up in our large, blue, Ford truck, we told them of our tales.




I went home and I slept that night with a stomach full of only water, dreaming of the possibilities I could have had if only that wretched female hadn't cruelly cut me off on my pursuit to the shirt of my wildest dreams. Life could have been perfection, but I suppose it already is.

Dem Thoughtz. 1#

Boy. A young man who lacks maturity, judgement, etc. A simple word. A simple gender. So much more than that. A boy can be your father, your brother, your teacher, your best friend, your lover. He can be your world or make you avoid it. He can make you go crazy, drive you out of sanity with words and sayings. He can melt your heart or shatter it. He can make you want your days to last forever or make you want to end your life. Girl. A female child, from birth to full growth. One word. One thousand feelings. Two million thoughts. One very breakable heart. We think too much. We love too easily. We give our heart. We want a fairy tale ending. We wear pink on Wednesdays. Girls stick together. We come out strong, and we always make it through. Happiness. Good fortune; pleasure; contentment; joy. The blissful feeling of perfection. Anger. Grief; trouble. Pure and unadultered rage, maybe. Sadness. The affect of unhappiness or grief. Heart wrenching, gut churning, anguish. Insanity. The derangement of the mind. Not being sure of anything, not knowing what you want, or what you have, or what to do, or even what's happened. Sonder. The realization that you are not the only one in the world, that everything else is linked and working and confusing. And love. Indescribable. Love. A combination of every single one of these things. Something one would never give up for anything. *~*

The Island

This one time, my sister and I took a swim in our lake.
Now, it's not our lake, but it's about a mile away from our house and our grandpa almost owned it, so it is ours in spirit.
Anyways, you're not allowed to swim there, but we always do.
And right in the middle of this lake is an island.
This island is mysterious. I'm talking scary new species of animals, there could be a deranged killer on there, island. But we didn't care.
So we swam to it.
Granted, it was a small lake, probably about a mile in diameter, but this island was terrifying.
And we swam, and I guess we're good swimmers because we made it easily.
And the second our feet touched the groud, the hard, sharp rocks the covered the ground cut into our feet and we were on the island.
We were subject to any kind of danger.
And so we slowly walked onto this island, and we explored a little.
It was loud with the sounds of animals and it was covered on every inch with trees and grass and rocks.
It was almost impossible to walk.
And when we were getting close to what we assumed was the middle, we heard something.
And we saw something.
It wasn't a good something, and I'm not even sure what it was, but it was bad.
Really bad.
So we booked it, and ran back to the shore.
And we swam back to the dock as fast as we could.
And we were lucky we did because right after we got back, our father appeared and told us to come home.
He doesn't like it when we go to the lake alone, and he would kill us with a spoon if he found out we went to the island.
He never found out, and he's not going to.
But still to this day, I keep with me the terrifying sound of that thing and the image of it.
And as amazingly awesome it was to rebel like that, I am never going back.
It seems as if the island has gained a little piece of my respect.

This Is the Meaning of the Title Of My Blog

Hey all!
*Oh my God, she's blogging again, quick what do we do?*
No, no, don't worry, I haven't developed schizophrenia, or however you spell it, that's everyone reading!
*Dear God, she expects us to laugh at that horrendous joke*
Shut up, I know that was bad.
Anywho, I've posted again! Whoa, what a change!
As always, my life is boring as usual. Ha, not!
Well sort of, but not really! I had the most amazing New Year's/New Year's Eve, ever!
So I went to a party, because parties are fun, right? Anyways, at this party happiness happened.
I danced a lot. At first I hardly did because I'm insecure about my dancing, really, but once the lights were off, the strobe lights were on, and people just didn't give a shit, I danced for real. And I had fun!
Who knew?
Of course though, the dancing stopped and thus started well, other things I guess.
We played truth or dare which resulted in two boys licking the trash can and the wall, and then we all quit. So that didn't stick.
And they had a little bar going on with pop and whatnot, no alcohol, sadly.
This boy who I really don't like but we have this little tolerate/hate relationship going on, he mixed like ten pixie sticks with his sprite and he made me drink it out of his glass, which was really good, and so yeah, and then I started acting stupid and I spilled rootbeer all over this bitches shoes and she got pissed.
A glow stick errupted in my face.
We watched Paranormal Activity Two and Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, dear God that was terrifying.
A boy held my hand.
I was grinded on.
I was told I was pretty.
I made a fool out of myself in front of a cute boy by screaming my head off in front of him. I apologized for that.
I stared at two shirtless boys.
I danced with three shirtless boys.
I snorted a pixie stick. I was the only girl who snorted a pixie stick. It burned.
I was accused of dating my friend. I petted said friend's face seductively.
Three boys laid on top of me.
I was yelled at for not moving my legs while I danced.
I helped smear glow stick juice on a hot guy's bare stomach.
I wore a glow stick on my head all night.
I went from sitting along in the corner to being called to sit by a really cute guy.
I was told I was fun for once by six people. I'm never fun.
And last but not least, I almost had my first kiss. So close yet so far away. I was told to kiss this guy at midnight, long story short I almost did but didn't.
Yeah, so it was a beautiful night.
And trust me, I am never telling my mother any of this. Ever. Nope. Not even now. Don't you do it either.