I'm not sure if it is pertinent anymore. You know how things seem to fade after a good night's sleep? This is one of those.
I am disliking things. Lots of things. Things like my chubby thighs, my inability to sleep, my contacts burning my eyes, boys who have drifted away quietly but very, very quickly, my past mistakes. I don't regret. I only wish I had thought things through a little better at the moment, any moment, the moments that define my existence. It's really the different medium that is allowing me to share my thoughts so freely, restrictive as livejournal is. Livejournal made me censor myself, afraid to show how I really felt, disallowing myself to speak more than half truths. Only for the pure reason that every entry I wrote showed up on someone's Friends page, and people that I didn't necessarily wish to read my private thoughts had full access.
RENATA'S LIFE ALL-ACCESS
Just like a MuchMusic special. Call me Ashlee!
For now, though, screaming music does me just fine, and once I get these circular discs of plastic off my eyeballs, I will be a much more content person. This doesn't mean I will stop picking at blackheads on my face, no sir, because that is one thing in life that gives me great pleasure. Much like the warm caress of another or a bite of sinfully dark chocolate.
Seriously. I do like the warm caress of another, sometimes. I won't deny it. But often it leads to posts starting with the words "I am disliking things", AND WE DON'T WANT THAT ANYMORE, DO WE?!
And honestly? I think I'd like to stop having fucked-up dreams. Maybe. Or are they providing my obviously insane subconscious mind a release? I'll get back to y'all on that one. Now, it is goodnight. Once I can get my goddamn wireless internet to connect, and can actually publish this post. ANGRY FACE!
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Monday, March 27, 2006
Red Wine
My life can be defined in nights, wine, and cold mornings. It's never semi-dramatic. It's either not dramatic at all, or a full-out soap opera. Except no one dies and comes back saying they're someone's long lost twin sister. Although that would be pretty cool! But no. No. It's defined in years of crushing and lusting after one person, and then almost getting that person but not.
GETTING. I don't even know what that means anymore.
Staying up all night, slowdancing to hardcore in our underwear. Making breakfast at 7am after watching the sunrise, pillow talk, and me realizing that there is NO WAY that I don't like this boy. He's my constant, my never-ending need, and sometimes I just breathe him in, because that is the only way I'll ever have him. I can go weeks without seeing him or really even talking to him, but give me a glass of wine and put us behind closed doors, and it's all us from there on in. I see him and realize I miss him. I get jealous easily, and I know that I can't keep him, or else I will get hurt. Endless real-journal entries are about him, about us, and he'll probably always be in my psyche. Whether I want him there or not.
Call me a whiner. Do it. Call me a hopeless romantic. Call me a fool.
I am all of the above.
My life is defined in endless afternoons. It's defined in emails, laundry, and pots of coffee. It's the sun dipping below the horizon, the air warming to spring, and the mud squishing between the toes of giants.
It's defined by you.
Most of all, it is defined in photographs and written words. It is the pen on the paper, my semi-cursive tracing across the page and lyrics written on my leg in marker. It is my life here. It is my life alone.
It's like the empty bottle of red wine on my coffee table.
GETTING. I don't even know what that means anymore.
Staying up all night, slowdancing to hardcore in our underwear. Making breakfast at 7am after watching the sunrise, pillow talk, and me realizing that there is NO WAY that I don't like this boy. He's my constant, my never-ending need, and sometimes I just breathe him in, because that is the only way I'll ever have him. I can go weeks without seeing him or really even talking to him, but give me a glass of wine and put us behind closed doors, and it's all us from there on in. I see him and realize I miss him. I get jealous easily, and I know that I can't keep him, or else I will get hurt. Endless real-journal entries are about him, about us, and he'll probably always be in my psyche. Whether I want him there or not.
Call me a whiner. Do it. Call me a hopeless romantic. Call me a fool.
I am all of the above.
My life is defined in endless afternoons. It's defined in emails, laundry, and pots of coffee. It's the sun dipping below the horizon, the air warming to spring, and the mud squishing between the toes of giants.
It's defined by you.
Most of all, it is defined in photographs and written words. It is the pen on the paper, my semi-cursive tracing across the page and lyrics written on my leg in marker. It is my life here. It is my life alone.
It's like the empty bottle of red wine on my coffee table.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Roll Up The Rim To Not Win!
In a frenzy of coffee/hot chocolate/tea buying, consumers often forget that the coffee/hot chocolate/tea they are buying is actually low quality shit-water in a paper cup. Seriously. My university campus has one form of coffee shop, and us students are forced to purchase our hot drinks there, or else perish. Usually I choose perish, except for those days when I have a spare dollar or two and cannot go another second living without a Large Earl Grey Tea.
Usually.
But then comes the time of year where the entirety of Canada is consumed with the feverish obsession that is Roll Up The Rim (To WIN!). Once in a while someone will win a free coffee, or a free doughnut, and God Almighty, isn't THAT just the greatest thing since hot dog vendors? Even though you've bought 23 hot beverages, you've only won once. Or twice, if you're EXTRA lucky. It's exactly like the lottery. But worse, and possibly less healthy. And the worst thing? I can't resist it either. For example, today I was about to order my usual miniature-sized hot chocolate, you know, to nourish my brain (I am learning! I require nutrients!), and realized that ROLL UP THE RIM DOES NOT OCCUR IN SMALL-SIZED CUPS. I was forced by my suspended disbelief that I might actually win this time to buy a medium instead. It was horrible and sweet and I rolled up the rim and I did not win!
That's it. I give up the 'Ho forever.
Except for maybe those Boston Cream doughnuts.
And the occasional Old Fashioned Glazed.
Usually.
But then comes the time of year where the entirety of Canada is consumed with the feverish obsession that is Roll Up The Rim (To WIN!). Once in a while someone will win a free coffee, or a free doughnut, and God Almighty, isn't THAT just the greatest thing since hot dog vendors? Even though you've bought 23 hot beverages, you've only won once. Or twice, if you're EXTRA lucky. It's exactly like the lottery. But worse, and possibly less healthy. And the worst thing? I can't resist it either. For example, today I was about to order my usual miniature-sized hot chocolate, you know, to nourish my brain (I am learning! I require nutrients!), and realized that ROLL UP THE RIM DOES NOT OCCUR IN SMALL-SIZED CUPS. I was forced by my suspended disbelief that I might actually win this time to buy a medium instead. It was horrible and sweet and I rolled up the rim and I did not win!
That's it. I give up the 'Ho forever.
Except for maybe those Boston Cream doughnuts.
And the occasional Old Fashioned Glazed.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Welcome To Blogworld
Today, for some mysterious reason, (in fact it may have come with drinking a coffee, I'll never know) I am the victim of pure, unadulterated bliss. Even taking pictures of my (rather curvy) buttocks in the mirror has not minimized the horrible joy I am feeling.
Who would have thought that I got my wallet stolen yesterday?
Because I forgot to return my roommate's movie to the movie store when I said I would, I had to pay $12 in late fees so that she will never find out what an awful, unreliable person I really am. That left me with $70 in my bank account. Then I went and bought the new JANE magazine, cause you know, I'm down on my luck and really needed something to cheer me up. And then I bought a coffee. And a cookie. But really, I'm looking forward to spending the next couple weeks in a feverish state of non-eat, non-sleep, utterly and completely dominated by my (over)due assignments and the fact that I won't even be able to afford ramen noodles (that's Mr. Noodles to you guys!). And no, I will NOT be going out for cheap beer tonight, because I can't even afford the cheap anymore. Last time I said that, I ended up sleeping through my Thursday morning Geomorphology lab and wandering around campus in a state of semi-consciousness.
I vow to be a good girl, to floss, take my vitamins, and to not waste my time.
More on that later.
Who would have thought that I got my wallet stolen yesterday?
Because I forgot to return my roommate's movie to the movie store when I said I would, I had to pay $12 in late fees so that she will never find out what an awful, unreliable person I really am. That left me with $70 in my bank account. Then I went and bought the new JANE magazine, cause you know, I'm down on my luck and really needed something to cheer me up. And then I bought a coffee. And a cookie. But really, I'm looking forward to spending the next couple weeks in a feverish state of non-eat, non-sleep, utterly and completely dominated by my (over)due assignments and the fact that I won't even be able to afford ramen noodles (that's Mr. Noodles to you guys!). And no, I will NOT be going out for cheap beer tonight, because I can't even afford the cheap anymore. Last time I said that, I ended up sleeping through my Thursday morning Geomorphology lab and wandering around campus in a state of semi-consciousness.
I vow to be a good girl, to floss, take my vitamins, and to not waste my time.
More on that later.
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