tonight was a bad night, and my plans got ruined... and i have a bad headache... and i'm all alone and i hate being alone in my house.

SO. i'm going to talk about what's been good lately to cheer me up :)

-i finally got weeds season 5 from the library
-i started "the girl with the dragon tattoo" for my book club
-i've been getting decent hours at work
-i made delicious brownies and had a nice night in with my sweetheart last night
- i added a lot more to my dream catcher story, have more ideas, and read a writer's guide that didn't make me want to gag
-i signed up for "weheartit" so that i could finally keep track of all the pictures i like

there's probably way more but i'm exhausted and need to take some melatonin and go to sleep.
have a great evening!

ps go check out http://iheartkittenz.blogspot.com/

love is all you need.

"Being a woman... sexuality is half-poison and half-liberation. .. i am the most sexually free woman on the planet, and i am genuinely empowered from an honest place by my sexuality. what's more primal than sex? i mean, it's so honest."
-lady gaga

sexuality is a beautiful thing. i hate that it can be used as a weapon, or against someone. everyone has the right to sexuality. i don't just mean GLBTQ[etc] people, i mean everyone. men, women. women should be able to wear a skirt without someone thinking she is "asking for it." men should be able to live without fear that any move they make that isn't considered textbook "manly" won't have them called a sissy, or beaten. i look forward to the day where everyone can be his or herself. love who you want to love, and wear your skirt without fear.


love is the movement.

"in the deepest hour of the night, confess to yourself that you will die if you were forbidden to write. and look deep into your heart where its roots, the answer, and ask yourself, must i write?"-


rainer maria rilke

on individuality.

i used to be weird. no, like really weird. like as weird as lady gaga on her weirdest day. when i was in my first school, a catholic school from kindergarten-mid third grade, i used to tell people i was a witch. i think in my own mind, i believed it. just a little.

and then when i went to my second school, mid third grade-fifth, i still was weird. i always made goofy faces, goofy sounds. and apparently i "tried to walk sexy." i really felt different from my peers. i really felt alone, but at the same time, i felt enlightened.

and then i went to the next school district. 6th-12th grades. and somewhere in there, i lost myself. my true self. i never "sold out," per se. but i definitely toned down my differences, and it's because of that that i believe my depression truly manifested itself. i do believe it's in my blood, but i think thats what brought it out- the suppression of me. my me-ness.

cortland- there was the chance to bring back my me-ness. but instead of choosing to be a luna lovegood, or choosing to let my inner lioness show, i chose to be a first year neville, a mouse.

and then i came home. and here i am about to embark on my third year of college. and i've been thinking lately, here i am. finally coming out. as me. and i don't care if people think i'm weird, or if my faces are too silly, or if you don't like my outfit. go ahead and whisper about me in the halls. i'm not doing YOU, i'm doing ME. and you should be yourself. because it is so painful to hide who you are. anais nin said it best:

“And the day came when the risk to remain tightly in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom”

do you. wear you. write you. read you. BE you.

summer goals 2010

ok for reals... here are some summer goals that i really want to accomplish:

-take 50 pictures [this is hard for me because when i have my camera, i forget to use it... and usually i forget it in the first place
-save at least $700 more than i already have
-spend more time outside
-do more yoga
-lose 5 pounds, [of fat, gain muscle :)]
-journal more [havent truly journaled since april!]
-make some collages
-read a book a week [easy shmeazy lemon peazy]
-do fun things with my brothers, who are 8&9 like: bake, tie-dye, explore
-catch up on true blood, arrested development, skins, and weeds [at least 2/4!]
-complete second draft of dream catcher, and either start third OR start next story.. at least the outline, main ideas.

and in prep for the fall:
-go to academic advisor and make sure everything is in order for my associates
-find more concerts to go to [lights? gaga? evanescence? etc]
-buy fall/winter clothes


more to come... what are your summer goals?? i'd love to know.

i just wanted to say that the Cassie's Therapy Video posts i've been doing were created by Erimentha :). had i known this i would have given her credit right away! i always mean to give credit on the rare occasions that i borrow, but i get distracted. i'll try harder :) please go visit Erimentha and see her pretty blog for yourself.

happy father's day!!

happy father's day to the best father i could ever imagine.

if you want to know about my dad, i don't even know where to start. he is one of the most thoughtful men i know. and he cares about his four children more than even i could ever know. he does everything for us, whether shlepping us to work, school, soccer games, singing recitals, you name it. if we need something, or even want something, he'll help us get it. he doesn't spoil us, but we want for nothing. my dad has worked hard all my life to make sure i had a good childhood. we moved to long island so that we could have a yard and a pool. he brought me up to Cortland when i so desperately wanted to go there, and he came up and loaded the car back up when i so desperately needed to come back home.

my brothers idolize my dad. when they grow up, they want to be just like him, and i know why. he's one of the nicest people anyone could meet. he's friendly, and always smiling. everyone wants to know him, my friends have had crushes on him, and i'm sure that women his age love him! even though my dad no longer lives with me, he is still one of the most constant people in my life. i never once for a second thought that my dad moved out and left me. he is here all the time with us, and when he's home with his rescued kitten, Spooky, he is a phone call away.

there is so much more i could say about my dad, but then i'd be sitting here for longer than forever. thank you for being such an amazing dad, and showing me what kind of man i want to marry. you are one of my best friends, and i love you.

buy your father a card!

every once in a while, i'll do a cassie's therapy video post. why? because it's fun, and it's about learning about myself which you could do too.

shout out to POS emily by the way, one of the best coworkers i could ever have imagined, and one of the funnest friends i have <3

and now, without further ado, cassie's therapy video.
 ALSO i would love to see your answers in the comments or on your own blog.

I like boys with long eyelashes and girls with notebooks filled with their own poetry

I like showering early in the morning

I like reading about mermaids and faeries

I like kissing in the rain

I like sleepovers with the one i love

I like warm banana bead and cold tea I like that male seahorses carry the babies in their pouch
I like contradictions
I like imagining i am someone else
I like the painting i made of a city skyline
I like rainboots and leggings
I like watching lindsay lohan movies with alessia

I love waking up to a rainstorm on days where i had nowhere to go anyway

Today I woke up to a car alarm "In some ways, I love everything.

Its less, its less of a thing to like, its less distinct, its less particular.

I like things that I like but I love everything

There’s more choice in like

Cos even the worst things have things you love in them...

I don’t know what you mean about things I hate."

I hate when boys are mean and think that GIRLs are the crazy ones

I hate when i go shopping and i actually have money and i can't find anything.

I hate writer's block

I hate people's behavior when they're drunk

I hate being poor I hate what love can do to you but in a way, its worth it
I hate feeling fat or ugly when i am neither of those things

I hate not knowing the right answer to a customer's question when i am called to register 

i love you.

oh, sookie.

yes, i got sucked in, and here i am on episode 6 of season one of trueblood, already requested season 2 from the library. many of the things i like, i like them not because of the vampires, but because they are shows/books/movies with great STORIES. to be honest, i wasn't too into the craze until recently. i have always looooved vampires, ever since i was a little girl. and that's exactly why i didn't want them in my face 24/7. its like candy- i love it, but if i ate it every day, my teeth would rot and it would hurt to smile, and i will start to be gross. so i wish the vampire craze would subside a little. but, if you vamp beat em, join em!

;)

to be honest, instead of lusting over the vampires [and vampires are an extremely sexual group of creatures!], i'm in love with sookie... and all of her gorgeous dresses [and that BEAUTIFUL blonde hair. mine is a few shades darker and i wish it was like hers!]

miscellaneous ramblings

happy friday! it's my day off from work [as was yesterday], and i am oh so very happy. [don't hate me, pretty soon i will be watching my 8&9 year old brothers, and 14 year old sister 3+ days a week. and working still.] but anywho...

yesterday i finished the last PRETTY LITTLE LIARS novel by sara shepard. i was tres disappointed. it's not that it wasn't good... it was. it's just that she used a technique that i find to be a cop out in writing. it was comparable to if JK Rowling ended Harry Potter with "and then he woke up. it was all a dream."

but i started I Was Told There'd be Cake by Sloane Crosley. I need to go back to the library and grab Water for Elephants. i keep forgetting! and i still didn't start The Glass Castle. apparently, HBO is making Cake into a tv show?! so i'm glad i'm reading it now, and i'll have to check out the show when it's on dvd.
speaking of HBO dvd's, i am now on the fourth episode of season one of TrueBlood. i like it, but the main reason i'm pushing forward with it is because it seems like the second season was really good and i can't watch that without the first.

however i might skip to the office's second season. i tried watching the first, and hated it. but then i was watching it on tv [idk what season] and laughing my ass off. so even though i hate skipping and starting in the middle of things, i'd rather skip the non funny parts.

i had a really thoughtful post i wanted to share, and it flew out the window. the same window where dreams go- you know when you wake up sometimes and you KNOW you had a crazy dream and all you see is a flicker of a random object or event and can't put the whole dream together? it went out THAT window.

i think i want to have a contest/give away soon. i just don't know what the prize shall be. but i'll figure it out.

ALSO thank you to chelsea at TRIUMPHS AND BLUNDERS OF A KOOKY GAL and chantalle at CHAI, CINNAMON, AND COUTURE for their lovely comments and reading my musings. their blogs are so wonderful, so go check them out!! i love them just as much as i love the other blogs i've mentioned in the past. at chelsea's blog, you can read about all the lovely things she bakes and cooks, and your mouth will water. i want to make it all! and at chantalle's, you will see beautiful pictures and gorgeous fashion. i love all of her posts!

my beloved, a knight in crystal armor.

today i finally got to go to the strand bookstore in manhattan. it was so amazing. the long rows of books, the prices, the rare book room, the art books. so promising. i wish i could move in. i saw the Tisch school of the arts and thought of Stefani Joanne Germanotta starting out as a new student.
i got to meet my friend's new girlfriend, who was a blast, and i tried vegan soft serve ice cream. it was delicious. i only spent $12.25 on food/expenses, and $4.50 on the subway. i heard the band "of montreal" for the first time, and i like it.
when i came home, there was a comment from sam on my blog [ i love all comments ]. and even though my legs totally hurt, and my abs feel tight, and i just ate two grilled cheese sandwiches, i am happy.

sometimes the fun stuff costs the least.
you have to wander aimlessly around manhattan til your feet are killing you.
sometimes you have to go to 3 different places before you get to pee.
and subway rides can be fun.

also, at 12:38 am last night/this morning, i finished the first draft of "The Dream Catcher." i am so so so proud of it. i sent it to an old teacher and a few friends to read. hopefully they can offer some constructive criticism. if anyone else would like to read it and let me know what they think, i'd greatly appreciate it. it's 16.25 pages, and i started it late february. it took me this long to finish because i needed the perfect ending, and i finally found it. a few days ago i had only 10 pages. soon i'm going to start my research for my next story, "El Dia de los Muertos." my goal for that is about the same amount of pages. i want to write a series of stories that are like a spiderweb; maybe a character will carry over from one to the next, or a place. you get the idea. then i want to put them all together in a book. all of the stories will have a mystical vibe, but no vampires. i promise.

have a good week, kind sirs and madames.

i accidentally over-scheduled myself this week.
monday- city with russell and haillie, then bed early because
tuesday- up at 7, work 8:30-4 pm then nap then jamie's house to see jamie and val
wednesday- sister's 8th grade graduation and work 5 to close
thursday- plans with friendss
friday- hopefully seeing emily
saturday- work 4-11:30 [or 12]
andddd hopefully tuesday i'll find out my schedule for next week.
also this week is my unhappy time of the month.
and no, i dont think thats oversharing. its 2010 dont be squeamish.

so this week means:
i will be grouchy.
very tired& hungry all the time.
not catching up on skins or any tv shows
not reading much at all
not blogging at all
taking lots of pictures [i better!!!]
spending too much money [i am trying to save, damnit!]
and idk what else.

hopefully next week i can relax.
then again, lets make plans! its summer babyyy.

follow me on twitter.

Inside the Mind of Gideon Rayburn

a few years ago while i was on a book shopping spree [sidenote: i did of course go to the library but i also thought it was a wonderful idea to spend all of my money on books like there was no way i'd ever run out of money. i have nothing left over from my first job. nothing to show for that money but books. now, the library is my best friend. my bank account will thank me later.] i picked up Inside the Mind of Gideon Rayburn, by Sarah Miller. why? because it looked fascinating. because YA can be smart and sexy. because the cover was pretty.
but it turned out to be an amazing book. there was this girl, and she was actually INSIDE the mind of a boy that she [at first] didn't even know. she saw what he saw, felt what he felt, and knew what he was thinking. and the best part was, the reader didn't know which girl was inside his mind! was it molly? pilar benitez-jones? someone else?
before the ending [but not too much before] i figured out that it was molly. and i was correct.

so a few weeks ago when i was perusing borders to see whats new, i happen upon this book called The Other Girl. and guess what? it was a sequel to ITMOGR. so i requested it from the library. and thank goodness i didn't buy it. sarah miller, what happened? Molly was no longer interesting. she was whiny and stupid. at first, she was slightly identifiable to me, but after a few chapters [which i struggled to get through, hoping it would get better], i hated her. and pilar, i just lusted after her the whole time. and i should have invented a drinking game for every time you mentioned "pot." you just made me want to smoke some, instead of reading this book. unfortunately this was the only book i had with me when i babysat last night from 9pm until 2 am. i needed something to do to keep me awake while the kids were sleeping, and i wasnt able to get onto their internet.

it was not the worst book i've ever read, but it definitely gets a consolation prize. sarah miller, if you do write another sequel, i will check it out. but i hope its akin to the first book.

the books i will be reading this week:
-a memory, a monologue, a rant, and a prayer [edited by eve ensler]
-green chic [christie matheson]
-the glass castle [jeanette walls]

if anyone has any suggestions of books to add to my huge TBR pile [or if you read The Other Girl and want to say your opinion on it, Sarah Miller, or ITMOGR], feel free to tell me in the comments.

fearless

via "Although I was voted “most likely to end up in jail” in high school, I decided to get an MA and teach literature and gender studies to college students across the country. Along the way, I’ve been unable to resist trying new things—including working an archeological dig, slinging drinks at a biker bar, and getting fabulous tattoos. I call all of this research for my writing. To fill my craving for new experiences, I’ve lived in Pennsylvania, North Carolina, and Southern California, and I plan to keep roaming with my family as widely and as often as possible. This year, I think, I’m living in Virginia." - Melissa Marr


this is the kind of life i want. to a t. i want to be an english and gender studies professor... but first i want to go into publishing. why? 1) for experience, 2) to feel important [i want to be an editor OR be the person who picks what becomes a book and what doesnt, specializing in YA and 3) because it will make me happy and give me an in in the industry. it would actually be perfect if i could work for an indie press. or even start my own one day.


THEN i'd like to try my hand at selling some of my lyrics, etc to a record label. recording demos maybe. i love singing, it's the best feeling in the world, but i don't think i'd want a career out of it. i don't want to ever have to conform, and i'm not as amazing as some people out there. fame isn't what i want, but i do want to touch someone's heart, anyone's heart with a poem or story or song. if i hear that just one person was touched and affected for the better by something i created, i'd glow inside.


and finally, teaching would be wonderful. i would love to teach, to give to students like some of my favorite teachers have done for me. i want to inspire the next generation and show them that they CAN do whatever they set their mind to. gender studies and english are definitely where my passion is at. feminism, humanitarianism, equality... those are core values. 


obviously the whole time i would write myself silly, create my little heart out. and who wouldn't take the opportunity to work at an archeological dig? i would never pass that up. i wouldn't say no to tattoos either! if it's true that you only live once, then why wouldn't you live to the fullest? live a lot of places [for me that would be paris, new york, california, and vacations in italy and hawaii and all over the world] meet a lot of people, learn a trade like bartending to fall back on, etc. i love life, and i intend to do this all, and more. whatever comes my way, i am willing to take it head first, fearless.


have a sweet day!

update on my life

hey :)

a while back, i wrote a story called "The Tree on Crescent Street." currently, that short story is entered in a writing contest in which the winners get to have their stories read by author Melissa Marr who will then i guess give us pointers on the story? anyway i'm really excited about it, and even if i don't win, at least people read my story!! you can vote here: http://www.radiantprose.com/entry/view/4

80 

you can either read it there, or you can read it on this blog under the tag "short stories." 

even if you don't have time to read it, i'd appreciate if you could just click "vote" at the top. it takes less than a second to do so. thank you so much, for voting, or for reading it, or for even reading this blog. it means the the world to me as an aspiring writer. i have so many new poems and stories up my sleeve. there is my dream catcher story, about dream catchers and the consequences of not being that nice to others; i have about 10 pages so far that are completely done, and i have an outline for the rest of the story. i myself am excited to keep going with it, its a very interesting story. i also have another story that i plan to write called "El Dia de los Muertos," about love, and if it really does last forever, and is the memory of someone better than who they really were? i'm still researching for that one :)

basically i like to write about mystical things, things that intrigue me, the kinds of things i would want to READ. if i had to pick an author i was similar to, i'd say Francesca Lia Block. but she is so amazing and writes the most wonderful things, i don't think i even come close to her. just that we both are into similar elements. my other inspirations right now are paulo coehlo, and of course melissa marr. i would love to write a short story about fairies, and potions, but nothing has come to me yet. 

i'm trying to get the motivation to keep writing. it's hard, because i know the stories already. they are in my head, waiting to be told. its just that i have to get them down on paper and not get bored of myself. it helps, though, to see my friends, and write down my ideas, and do lots of things that ARENT writing, because when you are living in real life, you are gathering ideas for life on the page. i've never been the type of person who sits down and says "i am going to write a poem/story/song/etc right now" and then is able to write. i have to wait for it to come to me. i am so surprised DC is 10+ pages already. i never expected it to even be that much when i started writing it. but it's taken on a life of its own and i'm glad. i cant wait to finish it, maybe it will be up to 15/20 pages. and of course in between reading, writing, researching, walking, working, seeing my friends, lunching, movie watching, etc, i will be here blogging all the time. in case anyone was wondering. i hear crickets.

lastly i want to say thank you to my friend alessia who, if i didnt meet her in poetry class, i just might have died without this past semester. thank you for the endless car rides, sharing a love for lindsay lohan, and always encouraging me to keep going with my writing. also you are a kickass writer and i hope one day we can go on book tours together and i hope we will always be friends.<3

self esteem

hello, my dear kittens.
today, i want to talk about self esteem.
everyone has self esteem. what differs for each person is how much self esteem a person has.
some people have a LOT of self esteem. maybe too much. these people think they are akin to jesus.
then, there are some people, many of them hardworking, lovable, beautiful-on-the-inside-and-out people who have the worst self esteem like ever.
and i really feel terrible for those people.
i used to think i was the lowest scum of the earth.
and so when i see some of my best friends feeling ugly, feeling fat, feeling stupid; feeling like they have nothing to live for, feeling like they can do no right, feeling that they will be unsuccessful, etc... i really feel awful. because if you think you are a piece of shit, sometimes you start to act like one. you give up on everything, and you forget who you are. you forget that you matter. i have a friend, she's beautiful, she's so smart, and so sweet. but she hates herself and therefore she feels worthless. so she lets her schoolwork slip to the side, and she lets her family dictate how she perceives her body. she does self destructive things and practically looks for danger. she won't let herself buy things she LOVES because she thinks people will talk about her behind her back. she is a wreck. she wants a boyfriend desperately but allows herself continuously to be a one night stand.
but if she turned her life around, just a little bit; took her job seriously, shut off her family's comments in her head when she went shopping, allowed herself to dictate her own fashion rules, and put in effort into saying "THIS IS ME. FUCKING DEAL WITH IT." she'd be an amazing catch. confidence= beauty. she's already beautiful, but she needs to own it. she needs to radiate it from her skin. she needs to be herself and be unafraid. and i hope she knows i love her, she's one of my soul sisters, and she will always have a friend in me.

here

we just don't know you yet entry

she did not know what she was running towards or from
she did not know what adventures lied in between,
or what the streets of this new world held for her.
but she knew one thing:
it's a jungle out there, and one better be prepared

if life is but a dream, then she is living in a nightmare sometimes.

http://theinkyfingerfiles.blogspot.com/
http://www.wejusthaventfoundyouyet.blogspot.com/

in progress: el dia de los muertos

We were wed on the day of the dead

[the gunpowder, treason, and plot]*

sugar skulls and cockle shells,

[I see no reason why your ugly treason

should ever be forgot]*

and you, and you,

in your white silk dress

and me, and me

in my sea foam duress

and us, and us,

in all our glory

my dear, we have a fantastical story

we were wed on the day of the dead,

the sugar skulls and redemption dance

the tongues of the fires, the frightening chance

we were supposed to be something more

than this, something more than a cake topper,

something more than an institution

alive

alive

alas

alas

we are done for.

*= the guy fawkes poem from V for Vendetta

the tree on Crescent St. [parts four, and five]

NOTE: IF YOU LIKE THIS STORY, PLEASE GO TO 

http://www.radiantprose.com/entry/view/480 AND VOTE FOR ME TO HAVE MY STORY READ BY MELISSA MARR, AUTHOR OF THE WICKED LOVELY SERIES!!!!!!!!!! I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER AND MAKE YOU A THANK YOU CARD IF YOU WISH

11.     About halfway through the movie, the calm night had turned itself into a raging monsoon. I made Alissa call her mom to see if she could stay over. I heard the words “no, no, no” and “simply inappropriate” come through the receiver, so I mouthed ‘I will drive you’ and used my hands to indicate I’d take her at 11:30. We sat the rest of the movie in silence, holding hands. After the movie we went into my room and Dashboard once again played. “And we stood at your door with your hands on my waist and you kissed me like you meant it and I knew that you meant it.” I started to kiss her and I admit it was quite romantic. We must have fallen asleep though, because all of a sudden, I felt Alissa shaking me awake with a sense of urgency. “Matty, Matt, wake up! it’s a quarter to twelve!” By the time I was awake enough to drive it was midnight.

12.     The rain poured certain and steadily, purposefully and mighty. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”  I was too nervous to drive and my mom still wasn’t home. “My mom would kill me,” she said solemnly, and we buckled into the car. I turned on the radio to distract myself from my gut feeling that something would go wrong. I looked to Alissa for some conversation. “So, have you talked to your mom about college?” I asked. She murmured an incoherent answer. “Huh?” I prodded. “Medical school it is,” she answered, looking mighty uncomfortable. “But what about what you want?” “Mom says…” “Alissa, my god! Just forget her! She’s not you. Only you know what’s right for you.  You’ll hate yourself if you do what she says, you really will.” “You don’t understand,” she was starting to cry. But all I could see was that tree.

13.     My knuckles turned white as they gripped the wheel, and in my mind I knew what was to come. “Almost there, almost there,” I told myself. “I can’t let go now.” I almost swerved away from the tree that night, but then I lost control of the steering wheel. The silvery glint of Alissa’s rings caught my eye as I stared at her in horror. The storm raged on like a bull who had just seen red, and everything happened in slow motion as the passenger side door of my ’96 Honda smashed into the elm on Crescent street, two blocks away from Alissa’s house.

14.     I woke up at 3:30 a.m. in a St. Mary’s hospital bed. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was, but then I remembered. It had to have been a dream. I squeezed my arm and waited to wake up, but then I heard voices. “Oh, baby, are you alright?” In the shadows of the dark room stood my mother, in a stance I had never seen her in before. Never had she looked so down trodden and afraid, not even when my father left, or when our house flooded in the sixth grade. I looked into her crinkly blue eyes and saw hurt. I was confused. A check in the mirror didn’t help figure out why she was so upset. Aside from a bruise on my left cheek (a souvenir from the steering wheel, no doubt) and a deep cut on my chin (ditto), I was unscathed. But then, my mind switched to Alissa. “Alissa… where is she?” No one would answer my outcry. “Mom? Mom! Where the hell is my girlfriend?” I was crying. I hadn’t cried since I was six and fell off of my bike. I couldn’t stop yelling and all of a sudden a white clad nurse rushed in and almost forced a pill down my throat. In an effort to get her away from me, I obligingly swallowed the blue brick without resistance. “Sedatives,” she said to my mother, and a moment later I lay down on the bed.

15.      “Matty,” my mom began. She smoothed down my hair and held me like I was a little child again. “She didn’t make it…” I almost didn’t hear her through my own sobs. “She… I mean, Alissa, she’s dead.” I leaned over the side of my bed and threw up all over the place. The next morning, Alissa’s mom walked into my room, smelling of coffee and rich people’s perfume. “The police, and your mother, told me everything as they know it…. Do you know what it’s like to lose a child? No. I knew she was too good for you.” I was angry. “We were arguing about you! If it weren’t for you, she would be safe. You meddled too much in her li-“ “Shut up! I will not have you yell at me!” She looked rabid as she turned to leave. Just before the door, she looked over her shoulder. “My lawyer will be in touch.”

Epilogue: I’ve been in and out of court for a year now. Mrs. Spellman has sued me for everything I own. But my lawyer, Steve Lyons, says it is only a matter of time before I leave this mess a free man. And i am crazy with grief. Ironically enough, the rain stopped as Alissa’s casket was lowered into the ground. I can only hope it was her way of saying, “It’s ok. I forgive you.” But I’ll never know.

the tree on Crescent St. [part three]

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7.      Going to Alissa’s house, I always felt a little weird. We both lived in Connecticut, but my house was definitely more humble in size than hers. The front gates opened to let me in her driveway. I smiled at Sam, the guard who worked for her parents. I would have gotten her myself, but Mrs. Spellman, Alissa’s mother, did not quite care for me. I think it was because Alissa wanted to be an archaeologist, and I encouraged her to follow her dream. Her parents, however, had given her a stethoscope for her fourteenth birthday. Catch my drift? I was starting to space out as Alissa hopped into the passenger seat. “Where to?” she asked. “Friendly’s.” We drove off with Mrs. Spellman watching through her kitchen window.

8.          Friendly’s was reasonably crowded for a Thursday night. My guess was the lack of school the next day. Our district had the day off for some dead guy’s birthday or something. However, we were seated right away. “Hi, my name is Kailin, and I will be your server today. Can I start you off with some drinks?” The waitress looked nervous. She could only have been our age or even younger. Alissa and I sat side by side in our booth. “How was your day?” she asked, as I played with her purple fishnet stockings, plucking and releasing them with a snap. I relayed to her the day’s events. She laughed when I told her about Mrs. Lycra. “Oh, she’s not so bad.” I countered, “That’s because you always get A’s.”  In an instant, Kailyn was there with our drinks, and ready to take our order. “Two BLT’s slathered in mayo with fries.” Kailyn scurried away, probably hoping to not screw up. The rest of dinner was pleasant, and the evening air was serene when we finally left at 6:30. It was as if the recent storms had never existed

9.     When we got to my house, it was empty as I knew it would be. My mother was working late as usual. “Can I start you off with some drinks?” I imitated Kailyn. Alissa pushed my arm playfully, and then squealed when she saw the movie I picked out. Girls can get so excited over the smallest things. I poured us some Coke and popped in the dvd. We spent the next two hours making out and watching Cameron Diaz make a fool of herself with Christina Applegate.

 

The Tree on Crescent St. [part two]

4. Detention was a waste of time. Mrs. Lycra simply handed me a chemistry packet and instructed me to complete it. It was so easy that I raced right through it. Thirty minutes to go, I thought as I texted Alissa. The last message is still saved on my phone even now. “I’m sorry baby, but Lycra gave me detention. I’ll call you later. Don’t make plans tonight, I love you!” She answered back, “Don’t worry, sweetie. Call me later. Love you more.”  I never even got the chance to read it; Mrs. Lycra took my phone away.
 

5. If the last fifty minutes were any indication, the rest of the day did not look so great. I made my way from detention to study hall, deep in thought. I couldn’t wait to cuddle up with Alissa on my couch and just kiss her. It seemed like all she did these days was study, study, study. Did I mention ‘study’? I remember her laughing when I asked her to lay off the books for a few days. She said we had all the time in the world to be together; little did we know, time was exactly what we were lacking.  During study hall, I did my homework and bullshitted around with Lucas from my softball team. The day seemed to be looking up, although sad grey clouds had started to shield the sun.

6.  “My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me, so won’t you kill me, so I die happy…” Dashboard Confessional blared on my shower radio as I scrubbed away what I thought had been the bad part of my day. The shower was cool and I let the suds slip down the drain before I got out to brush my teeth. I was caught by surprise when I saw how tired my olive green eyes appeared. I guess, though, that I was pretty attractive back then, before the accident. I had blonde hair, a pretty average build. You could say I was sporty. My muscles were defined, just so.  A quick spritz of cologne and a button up t-shirt, and I was good to go. I called Alissa to be sure she was ready, and I started the car as the clock hit 4:17.

 

The Tree on Crescent St. [part one]

Prologue: I am not a murderer. I am not a homicidal freak. I had no weapons that night, no bullet packed gun. I did not wield a knife. My instrument was a steering wheel. I loved my girlfriend, as most of our schoolmates did. She lit up every room she set her size five feet into, and though she was her tallest at five-three, her booming personality made up for what she had not been given in height. Her auburn hair sparkled in the sun, and a smattering of freckles danced across her nose, growing in population each summer. I especially loved her oceanic blue eyes. Yes, she was a prize, and she had known she had wanted me from the start, chasing after me through middle school into high school until she finally snagged me in our sophomore year.

            She was more than ‘hot’; our relationship hardly depended on sex. What we had was something more; it was real love, real chemistry. One kiss from her sent shivers down my spine; I could joke and laugh with her one minute and have a serious conversation with her the next. We never argued beyond playful banter, and our affection never wavered. So, I ask you now, would I murder this girl, the love of my life?

1.     1.The rain pelted hard on my mother’s stained glass windows. The usual color-streaked floor sat still and bland, as if unexpecting and bored. I made my way to the kitchen, where warm fluorescent lights welcomed me, and beckoned me to the pile of freshly baked Tollhouse cookies, just waiting to be eaten. Remembering my wresting coach’s warnings, however, I settled for a granny smith apple on the verge of browning. The couch sank slightly when I sat down, making a squeak that would definitely have posed awkward if someone else had been there. I dug down into the crevices of leather to find the remote. “Gotcha!” I screamed triumphantly, the black hunk of plastic now where it belonged. I turned on the TV to channel seven in hopes of catching the game. However, the weather had other ideas, and the cable box shut itself off before I could even see the score. Last thing I remember of this October night, I fell asleep on the sofa, lulled to dreams by the waterfalls outside.

2.    2. “MATTHEW LEWIS HARGROVE!” my mother’s voice shot through my brain, straight to the core of my spine, and I will admit it scared the shit out of me. I opened my eyes and tried to adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the window, contrary to last night’s torrential downpour. “Guess I fell asleep on the couch,” I mumbled. “Well, get ready!” my mom shouted. “You can’t be late.” Now, my mother is a great woman. But if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s lateness. I hurriedly pulled on a pair of jeans over my boxers. With no time to shave, let alone eat, I made it into the car at 7:02. Not bad, I thought. I got to school with enough time to kiss my girlfriend, Alissa, hello.

3.   3. Homeroom through sixth was a blur. I had a crick in the neck from sleeping crooked on the couch, and I couldn’t wait for lunch to start so I could tell Alissa about the evening I had planned for us.  I wanted to take her to Friendly’s, her favorite restaurant. For after, I rented a movie. Some chick flick with Cameron Diaz, I think. The bell was just about to ring when my teacher bent down over my desk and stuck her face in mine. “If you can’t stay awake for my class, Mr. Hargrove, maybe you should stay with me an extra period. Lunch detention.” I groaned. If I didn’t get to lunch, I’d never get to Alissa on time. Thursdays, she had band practice from after lunch until dismissal. “Can’t I just stay after school?” I argued. But no can do. Old Mrs. Lycra was no known for her compassion. The bell rang and I tried to slip away. But Mrs. Lycra caught me. “Please sit in the front of the room.” Bummer. I would have to call Alissa later.

cassies's therapy video blog

I like the sound of babies giggling
I like believing in mermaids and faeries
I like feeling the sun on my shoulders
I like surprising people
I like that moment where something that was once so confusing becomes so clear
I like playing with her hair
I like lower case letters
I like singing
I like riding in cars, going nowhere
I like having long, intimate conversations
I like butterflies on a quiet day
I like watercolors when they bleed

I love writing

I hate nails on a chalkboard
I hate people telling me what i am or am not
I hate running out of watermelon
I hate feeling lonely, which is all the time
I hate when my friends go back to school
I hate when someone changes who they are for somebody else
I hate when new flats look amazing but give me blisters
I hate being forgotten.