It's Alive!

Sometimes we all do things that we later regret in life, only we try and convince ourselves that we don't regret those things at all, but instead call them "learning experiences."

Today I was trying to give my cousin some material that I've written, as he does the same.  I had nothing, but I did remember this blog as his mother mentioned it the other night at dinner.  I Googled it, found it and I read as much as I could from my 25 year old self (Hi, I'm 30).  I laughed aloud and reminisced about the craziness that once ensued.  Surely I couldn't let this just sit here unattended forever, but does anyone blog anymore?  Doesn't matter, a journal is a journal is a blog is mottled mess. 
This evening when I got home I decided to log into this old friend and see if anything magically came out of my fingertips as I haven't had the desire to write in ages.  Through multiple failed login attempts I finally realized that the email associated with this account is an old account that I deleted 2 and a half years ago when I met my [now] ex-boyfriend.  

There are two points to this story.

1. DO NOT ERASE YOUR PAST.  You are who you are due to all of your past experiences: Wins, fails, all of it.  I have nothing to regret, but I was so afraid that he wouldn't have approved that I erased the hardly used email account (OKAY!  I used it mostly for online purchase receipts).  This is a regret which in turn dominoes into a learning experience.  If someone doesn't accept all of your old battle wounds and mistakes then they're not worth the time.
2. THERE IS ALWAYS HOPE FOR RECOVERY.  I spent 15 minutes trying to figure out how I could reset my password, but everything led to that sad, deleted email account.  I went to Yahoo! to try and pretend like I had never deleted it only to get the message, "Account not yet taken."  Apparently, with most accounts, if it's deleted for longer than 3-6 months it's fair game.  Dare I try it?  You bet!  I claimed the old email account, went back to the main Blogger page, once again clicked the "Forgot my password" tab and received the link to reset my password.

Hello again!

We may fall, get bruised or broken, but there's always recovery.  A small piece of us may drift away that we never get back, maybe a sparkle or two inside is lost, but within time we grow stronger and brighter than we ever were before.  I've missed me.

Hell House Tours

Where's Your Final Destination?

Hell House Tour

Tickets $5 Per Person

October 30 & 31

Tours 7PM-10PM

Cooper City Church of God

I don't like religion at all and this is absolutely absurd. What are they gonna do, re-enact Dante's Inferno? Get lost.

"You SUCK, Brander!"

I've had a lot more time lately to think about the different relationships I have in my life. I tend to come off insensitive and crude --to most people, anyway-- but there's one thing for sure: 

I would never go out of my way to intentionally hurt anyone. 

There are people out there who have track records of doing hurtful things to those they "care about" and then expect those loved one's to shrug it off and welcome them in again with open arms. The gal who's reading this knows what I'm talking about, eh, lovie? Those types of "friends" deserve nothing. They want what they want and they don't care who they hurt while racing down the path to get it. Call me insensitive (again) but I think those people deserve nothing. You messed up, deal with the consequences.

Then there are people who purposely go for the jugular. They'll constantly belittle you and everything you enjoy for their own twisted pleasure. This, of course, coming from the same people who say, "you think you're better than everyone else." Nay, you know why? Because (see above) I would never. Go out of my way. To intentionally hurt anyone. You, on the other hand, get pleasure out of it, and I think people like you deserve nothing. 

Both types of people I listed above have excuses for everything. They didn't realize how much they'd hurt the person and they're sorry, or you can't tell the tone via email, text or writing. I'm calling bullsh*t! Ethics are instilled young (at least if you're raised correctly) and tone is crap. What you're typing is what you're thinking regardless. I always type exactly how I speak, so if you get offended by what I say, it's because that's what I was thinking and it hit home, not because, "Oh gee. If I had said that to your face, I would've laughed afterwards, so it's not as rude." 

Time to cut the fat. We've got a lot of work to do. 

The Worst Kind

Sometimes I miss him. A wise friend told me to write him a letter telling him exactly how he's made me feel over the years, fold it, and put it in my wallet. When I find myself missing him, take it out, read it, and remind myself why I finally walked away. I took the advice and I wrote the letter. I don't think I've ever taken it out to read it, though. I don't know if it's because I lived it and I recall how he's made me feel quite vividly, or if it's because I don't want to relive the way he's made me feel. Either way, the letter stays put.


I applaud myself on this one. This was one "relationship" where I think I did everything as right as I could have. I was very open and honest with both myself and him about what I wanted and how I felt. I didn't get the same in return. I also allowed myself (slash WANTED) to be affectionate with him. He reciprocated usually. I tried to decipher through his mixed-up, mixed signal comments, explanations and thoughts. 

"We can't be together. It would never work." *Kiss*

His career paths were noble ones. In my mind, I turned him into something he was not. I made him better for me than he is. I made excuses for his behaviors: One, two, three, four...one- hundred strikes. Even when he was wrong, he was right. I can't help but think of him whenever I pass his "job."

"You would be the only girl with tattoos that I'd ever like."

Sometimes I would get shut down, put down and held down and then I'd get a gift two days later. I used to think it was because he cared and thought of me. Now I just think it was some form of abuse. A pattern behavior. As honest as I was, I would still get told that I was making things up, that it was all in my head and I was the crazy one. My only response was and could only be: You've treated me like dirt. I don't need to make up more reasons to hate you.
But I don't hate him; I feel badly for him. I just know I can't and won't be around anymore to take the abuse.

Foot-In-Mouth Syndrome

This isn't new:  I let everything that's good pass me by.  I think it's a disease (or disorder) like hoarding or sex addiction.  I admire those who aren't afraid to be happy and to take the necessary, though not always smiled upon, steps in order to achieve that ultimate happiness. 


I've let my anxiety hold me back from a lot of great experiences.  I've also let the fear of how others would view me stop me from doing things that I wanted to do.  All that's gotten me is a stigma of walking the line.  I'm not Johnny Cash, and even though he walked the line, even he stepped off track. 


I've also let many (and I mean many) great guys disappear because -- simply put -- I just didn't appreciate them at the time.  My stubbornness gets in the way each and every time and then I usually decide that I'd be happier alone in the end.  But really, I don't want to be alone. 


Moving along, I recently thought about an old acquaintance (dare I call him "friend"?) that I had  a few years ago.  Actually, I had thought about him off and on, but when we ran into each other at a store, it was blatant confirmation that I had to rekindle our romance of words.  He was always very kind to me:  always there to throw a compliment (if I were willing to catch), always there to stimulate me (my mind, guys.  My mind), and always ready to lend a logical piece of advice or a hand if there was anything he could ever do.  I took this for granted.  I guess I'm always afraid of leading people on, or turning friendships/relationships into something they're not.


I cut him loose.  Nothing like, "Hey, your services are no longer required," but we slowly just stopped all communication.  And that was it. 


So upon this meet cute we had in the store; although not so much "cute" as we didn't even exchange words, just glances, and we started communicating again, it obviously just wasn't the same.  We had both been through a lot.  We exchanged a few texts here and there, a few emails, made plans to get together to catch up (but not the actual "meet up" plans, the kind of plans you just say you're making, yet never actually do it), but never did we really get back into our old groove. 


I thought about this and confronted him.  I told him I missed talking to him.  I love the way he writes, so I always have a comment when I read anything he posts, but I haven't been getting responses.  What's the deal, man?  He apologized and told me that sometimes he gets that way, but it's by no means my fault and he'll do better.  He promised.  Then he tells me he's moving.  I thought: No!  The only person I wanted to hang out with is now leaving!  Upon further inquiry, he reveals he has a fiance' and a new job.  I can't remember the exact words, but even though it was in writing, I got the indication that I was being a nuisance and this was his way of being rid of me.  The only thing I could think to say was, "Okay. Good luck!"  And with that, I deleted his phone number. 

Why do I feel so dumb, though?

We were always friends, but I'm not sure if we were ever completely on the same wavelength.  I enjoyed his friendship, as I'm sure he did mine but I think at one point there were more feelings there that I never gave the chance to be explored. 


I know he'll eventually read this, and that being said:  I want you to know that I know I have bad timing; I've always been that way and for some reason I don't think I'd change it if I could.  I don't think running into you was coincidence and I was definitely looking forward to maybe starting a more active friendship, but apparently the stars have a different path for you!  I'm sorry I let all these years go to waste instead of just giving you the time and attention (as my dear friend) that you selflessly deserved.  Congratulations! 

Why NYC Scares Me: Reason 586 of 2750284038

This story is a little old, but I was reminded of it a minute ago as I received a Tweet from Zak Bagans saying,

"In a cab with the driver he's 80 years old and is driving like mario andrettie and keeps cursing... this dude rocks"

Please keep in mind I wrote it verbatim, sans punctuation, proper spelling and the like. Anyway, I was brought back to this past New Years.


When the Jersey Shore took over the bar we were at, we decided to call it a night. The walk from the bar to Grand Central wasn't that bad, but after being on our feet in our stilettos, it seemed almost unbearable. Allie quickly made it known that the girls were NOT walking, and although the men of the group were insisting that there would be no way we could hail a cab on New Years, Allie almost immediately proved them wrong.


I don't want to say I was a non-believer but I did secure my own ride, and when I heard her calling me to get in the cab, I quickly jumped off The Rag's back and ran over to the yellow slice 'o heaven. 


The driver... was a creeper. Some form of Middle Eastern and clearly had no issues with letting us know exactly what was on his mind. About us, about the girl in the little blue piece of fabric (blue was his favorite color - he slowed down to offer her a ride), about how much he likes boobies and let's not forget the deal - if we flashed boobies, our ride was discounted. Not free, but discounted. Classy.


When there were no more, "oh my God, look at HER"'s he asked, "so you guys are all already drunk, huh?" - I'm paraphrasing here, I can't quite remember the exact creepy question he asked, but Allie didn't think twice before answering, "YUP!" NO, ALLISON! NO! Why would you ever admit that?! I had to try and save it, "not me! Totally sober." And I was, I wasn't lying, but he also had to know that there was no way he was going to see/touch/lick/whatever any type of boobie in that disgusting cab.


Before we reached our destination, Allie told him to stop by a bank so we could get cash out of the ATM. When he pulled up along the cub outside of the bank, Allie jumped out, leaving Maggie and I in the cab so that he'd be rest assured that we weren't going to bail without paying (which we completely should've done). What does Maggie do? She closes the cab door. NO, MAGGIE! NO! Why would you DO that?! What if this creeper wanted to drive us off and do awful, disgusting things? You'd be okay because you're wasted, but me? I'd be conscious of the whole debacle! 


Allie runs back to the cab, gets in and a few blocks later we were at the glorious train station and we're not sure how it happened, but the guys were already there, half-eaten wraps in-hand. At least we didn't have to walk.

Old-en Cartoons-enberg

I have this friend who's going to be shipped off to boot camp come August for the U.S. Navy. I don't know how/why he found these, but I can't stop watching them. He posted a link to a very old Donald Duck WWII propaganda cartoon called "The Spirit of 43." It was barely 6 minutes long, but I can only imagine how many children ran to mother and father upon its ending credits saying, "save for taxes!" 

Then of course, there's link after link after link of more. I watched the Three Little Pigs next.

And of course, you can't forget Donald Duck as a Nazi. 

Can't... stop... watching.

The Corey's

First of all, R.I.P to Mr. Corey Haim. I hope your drug habit was worth it (and I'll feel really dumb if the autopsy comes back that you were clean). As my Facebook status displays: "Corey Haim was my favorite Corey," but my point is this:

Why are there so many needless deaths lately? Granted, I know there are needless deaths every day, but I don't remember it being like this. I can name a handful off the top of my head (and in no particular order):

• Corey Haim
• Farrah Fawcett
• Patrick Swayze
• Michael Jackson
• Heath Ledger 
• Brittany Murphy
• Casey Johnson
• Michael Osmond
• Andrew Koenig
• Anna Nicole Smith (Even though it was 2007. I just remember it vaguely because she was found down the street at the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino.)

Out of the (10) people I listed above - off of the top of my head, remember. I'm very well aware that there are many more and not all are celebrities - at least (8) of them could've been prevented.

Most of the people listed above died of drug overdoses. Those are easily prevented whether battling an addiction, or ingesting a dangerous concoction of prescription medications. Sometimes we take things that simple for granted. I remember when I was on Prednisone and I had a neck ache I was afraid to even take Ibuprofen without asking a doctor. I was afraid of what the reaction of that with the Prednisone could do to my stomach. Sometimes our bodies just can't handle it and we need to take care of ourselves.

Others were suicides, which I feel can also be prevented. There are signs we're told to look for from our peers (click here to read some) and it's important to act upon positive findings. For example, I watched a documentary about how to survive during emergency situations: plane crashes, terrorists attacks (yes, terrorists attacks - they deconstructed how the survivors of the Twin Towers attacks actually managed to make it out), earthquakes, car crashes, etc. One of the segments showed a study that was performed to see how a group of people would react to a fire in an adjacent room compared to how a person who was alone would react. The study showed that when there was a group of people in the room, the fire was ignored because nobody wanted to be "that guy" who made the fuss about what could be a simple issue causing the smoke to come through the doorway. The person who was alone immediately left the room to tell someone when they noticed the smoke coming through the door. 

note: Click here to watch the interesting documentary on how to survive disasters. Interesting watch.

My point being, if we notice suicidal behavior(s), someone else needs to be notified in order to prevent the potentially inevitable. We can't be afraid that the person will get upset or mad or angry because even if they do, they may one day thank you.

I suppose in all is we need to take care of ourselves and each other.

Holy crap, I've turned into Jerry Springer.

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Viva El Conando!

NBC: you are out of your G.D. minds. Maybe I'm biased because a want a romp in the sack with him, but I think he's fantastic. I find him hilarious and timeless. He keeps up with what's going on, researches his guests and engages. Plus, how can you resist the string dance?

Long live Conan!

Uncensored: Audacity Awareness

They say when it rains, it pours. In my (un)professional opinion, I'm not sure if it's because a lot of negative things happen at once or if it's because since we're already sensitive from our one bumming event that we just think everything else that follows is negative. 

I consider things to be really "bad" when I feel the need to call my best friend and begin the conversation with, "you're not going to believe this..." Otherwise, things can wait until the following day until I see her on AIM. She also suggested that I write about it and eirgo, she contributed to the title of this very blog.

A couple months ago, I went on a first (and last) date with this guy we shall call Brad. We seemed to have a great time. We talked, laughed, shared a few drinks, shared a snack (I paid) and then we played video games in which I whooped his scrawny butt. All the signs pointed to "GO - collect $200." We even sat in the parking lot for what seemed like two hours talking and kissing like teenagers. The months pass, we don't see each other again, but we continued to talk here and there. He would complain about how he's embarrassed to date anyone because his career isn't going where he wanted it to go, he was 30 living with his parents and he in all felt like a loser. I was supportive and I gave him words of encouragement until he landed his dream job (well, almost) to which I said, "see? I told you things would work out."

In the last few weeks, Brad would tell me he wanted to hang out again, even shared his thoughts about what he'd like to do in a physical sense (oh, behave). He's very charming in a dorky sort of way, so a few nights ago, I felt like playing along with him. I sent him a message asking him if he could do me a favor. My plan was to follow it up with something flirty. Brad's response:

"Make it quick. I have to be up at 5 AM for work."

The only thing I could think to say after that was, "goodnight." Talk about a mood-killer! The next evening, I got an IM from him saying:

"Now I know how you felt after our first date."

I was intrigued! I didn't even know how I felt after our first date. He went on to explain that he went on an amazing date on Christmas Eve and he hasn't really heard back from the girl. He was bummed out because it was the best date he's been on in 10 years. There were several other details and I sat there and read each message with many different emotions swirling around my brain. Is this guy serious? I didn't know which was worse! The fact that he assumed I felt my date with him was the best I had been on in 10 years or the fact that he had the audacity (word of the day) to vent to me about his woes!

I let him have it. Boy, did I let him have it. I calmly (yet firmly) explained to him how silly he was to assume that's how I felt. Not only that, but if he thought I felt that way, then what in his right mind would make him think it would be okay to tell me about his problem? Looks aren't everything, because as handsome as this guy may have been, he definitely wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. The only thing I could think to say after that was:

"Since day one I've been trying to be nothing but understanding and supportive but I can't help but think you're just a dick. I'm going to go ahead and take your advice from last night and 'make it quick.'"

Gone. Deleted. I've seen "He's Just Not That Into You," I don't need this crap!

Two days later I check my messages and I have an email from a dear, old friend whom we shall call Ben. Ben goes on to write that he needs me to disappear from his life because he's trying to patch things up with his wife and he doesn't want any distractions (she's never really liked me - it's more for her). I can appreciate that, although, the night before he was using me as a shoulder and didn't want to lose me again. He also explained that if they were to split for good, he would be back to reclaim his old friend.

I was a little hurt, but I wrote him back telling him that if he were to come back, hopefully I'd be understanding enough to accept. Later on that same day, he sends me an IM saying:

"Of course you'll accept, that's what friends do. We'll have a beer and laugh it off."

The audacity! How dare you toss our life-long friendship aside and then assume that I'll accept it when you're ready to pick up again. If you feel my friendship is disposable, then maybe I shouldn't be so forgiving.

Audacious audaciousness! Do you mooks have any pride?

au-da-cious  /ɔˈdeɪʃəs/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [aw-dey-shuhs] Show IPA

–adjective 1. extremely bold or daring; recklessly brave; fearless: an audacious explorer.
2. extremely original; without restriction to prior ideas; highly inventive: an audacious vision of the city's bright future.
3. recklessly bold in defiance of convention, propriety, law, or the like; insolent; brazen.
4. lively; unrestrained; uninhibited: an audacious interpretation of her role.

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Death Penalty: Sweet Dreams!

I'm typically a classy eye-for-an-eye kinda lady, but I'm still not sure how I feel about the death penalty. I was reading the BBC News and I came across the article about how Oklahoma is finding a more "humane" form of the lethal injection (article here). They say it'll be a more "peaceful" death, whereas sometimes the other form of lethal injection may cause suffocation due to muscle paralysis.

Do I care?! The person is being put to death because they put someone else to death. Odds are they didn't show the same courtesy to their victim. Why should they get free housing and food while they wait for their anesthetic? Yes, they compare the new injection to anesthesia. You will peacefully close your eyes and not wake up. Ever.

Furthermore, do I even want them to die? That's like putting them out of their misery. I'm not religious, so I don't believe that they'll necessarily go to hell. Eirgo, I want them to rot. Suffer. Think about what they've done for the rest of their miserable, caged lives.

But wait, fickle aquarius. No one wants to be told their life is going to end because of something they've done (suicide doesn't count). I'm sure the 10 seconds when the verdict is delivered are the most horrible 10 seconds of their life. My heart would freaking sink if I heard other people were telling me that I'm going to be killed as a punishment.

My tentative solution: Sentencing criminals to death row and not actually killing them. It's perfect! They live their lives out in prison wondering when their day is going to come. I also recommend that they're told they're going to be lynched or mamed in the guillotine. Something awful and gut-wrenching just to add fuel to the fire.

Call me heartless, but for some reason "sleepy-bye" medicine just doesn't seem like justice. It almost seems like a favor.

***Addendum***

It was brought to my attention that I contradicted myself with the housing/food situation. Yes, I do. Obviously felons are going to be placed in prison where they're fed and given a slab of cement to sleep on which the citizens pay for. I just think murderers should be treated differently. I suggested to my dear friend Andy that we throw killers in a hole and let them starve slowly, yet surely. Maybe throw them a few sips of water and a ration of bread like the prisoners of concentration camps were given until they eventually wasted away. Andy quickly put me in my place:

Andy: that's cruel and unusual
Andy: unconstitutional
Andy: if we can't do it to terrorists, who aren't even US citizens, we certainly can't do it to prison inmates who are.

Very well, then.

P.S. You can catch the blog he contributes to here.

Myspace: Creeper McCreepalman

I used to be completely into Myspace and I hated Facebook. That may partly be because I wasn't in college and I couldn't join Facebook at the time, but I found Myspace to be colorful and fun. Oh, and I don't like change, but I digress.

Myspace was easy. Put your page on private (if you wish), add and deny friends as you please, keep comments public or private via messages -- easy and fun to use. You could even go into stalker-mode and browse around for people in your area or search for people by name. I had a lot of fun with that and if you say you didn't do it you're a liar and I don't like liars.

I was a faithful Myspace user for years. I never got into Facebook or Hi5 or even Twitter (now). Trust you me, my life is not interesting enough for Twitter. The only time I've ever strayed away from my beloved 'Space was when Facebook became open for anyone to join. I was finding that more people I knew liked Facebook better, so I took the plunge and created my account. Slowly but surely, Facebook overruled Myspace.

Granted, there are still a few friends who don't use Facebook and they only have Myspace accounts, so I kept my profile active checking it only when I received notifications that I had a message or a friend request. I've had the same page content for at least 3 years and although my tastes may have slightly changed, the Myspace world is not aware.

Then it happened.

A few weeks ago I was shopping with my mother for a Thanksgiving platter dish to bring to my uncle's house for dinner. There's clearly no other place to do that aside from The Tower Shops for obvious reasons. We looked diligently in Old Navy, DSW shoes, Bath and Body Works and the pet store, but no dish. After a while, we made our way over to TJ Maxx and scanned the purse section, but to no avail. We figured it couldn't hurt to check the home goods section, so we walked up and down the aisles checking all of the plates and dishes for something festive.

I glanced up and I saw him. Dexter Morgan. In TJ Maxx. Okay, not really, but I saw an old friend whom I haven't talked to in years. I recognized him instantly, and even though I know he saw me, I could tell he didn't recognize me. Marme and I left the shops empty-handed (well, platterless, anyway) and headed home.

I'm not impulsive at all, so I immediately fired-up my laptop and searched for him on Myspace (I guess we deleted each other in the past after we lost touch). I shot him a simple message saying, "Was that you?! It was, wasn't it." He replied minutes later, but he had no idea what I was talking about. Or at least he pretended he didn't. No matter - the next few days were spent exchanging messages and catching up a bit.

I decided I would also update my profile page. I changed my layout to the new style, which apparently means you have to update all of your privacy settings as you go along. I failed to note that. The friend requests and messages from random people began pouring in.

Weirdos from all over South Florida were sending me messages. Some of them, repeats. "Your beautiful." You can't spell, sir, and I don't know you. I quickly figured out that my profile was no longer completely private and addressed the issue. Did it help? No! "Your beautiful." I still don't know you. "MiAmI hOtT bOii wants to be your friend." Who?! At least 20 different people and messages flooded my inbox.

Random guy: How come you didn't respond to my message? Do you have something against me?!
Lee: I don't know you, sorry.
Random guy: So you have something against getting to know new people?
Lee: Yes.

Next message.

"Your beautiful."
Sir, this is the third time. I didn't reply the other two and this is obviously not going to be the charm. *BLOCK*

Myspace, you are officially the most creepy website ever and my love for you has completely deminished. People of Myspace, you are even more creepy for utilizing the website as an excuse to harrass. I am not impressed.

Nick, it was nice running into you. Please start using AIM.

Tiger Woods, You Scumbag

Tiger Woods crashed. Tiger Woods cheated... with multiple women. Tiger, Tiger, Tiger.

W H O    G I V E S    A    R A T S   A S S ? !

I hate the news. I find it depressing and it bores me to tears, but I have to believe that there's something more important in this ridiculous world than how Tiger Woods decides to live his personal life.

Dear Media,

Are you that desperate for stories? Tiger Woods plays a great round of golf, he's not the spokesperson for fidelity. When the drama of his personal life overshadows any other story on CNN, or every single magazine or gossip website posts the same story with a few different words, not only are you being redundantly boring and unoriginal, but you're showing how idiotic you really are when you're depicting this to be the most important piece of news since Thanksgiving.

Get your heads out of your asses and talk about something that matters. I have friends in Afghanistan.

Sincerely,

Lee

Wake Up, You're Dead

This blog, I fear, has been brewing for a long time and although I'm not yet sure of how I'm going to write it, I'm sure once I get into my groove I'll be almost impossible to stop.

While discovering that tragic events have caused me to want to be closer to those I care about, I'm now finding that I'm losing even more faith in people than I already have. When did people become so evil and vile and inconsiderate? I know I'm too young to walk around lecturing, "back in my day..." but at the same time, when I was growing up I was able to play outside by myself in the neighborhood, ride my bike to elementary school, or play in the street without fear of speeding cars or disgusting kidnappers. Not to say bad things didn't happen, but it's not like today. I wouldn't let my child out of my sight this day in age.

How can people be so horrible?

I've been interested in the Jaycee Dugard case ever since she was found alive 18 years after her kidnapping. I'm interested in how her captors brainwashed her into living in their backyard in tents without trying to escape, I'm interested in what pleasure her captors got out of snatching her and keeping her as their pet. When I got home from work yesterday, the October 26, 2009 issue of People Magazine was on the dining room table with her face on it. The pictures were taken October 11, 2009. Jaycee's smiling at age 29.

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Jaycee and her two daughters, fathered by her captor, are now adjusting to a new life and as curious as I may be, I hope they get to do it in privacy. And I can't stress this enough: This needs to be a movie.

As I kept turning the pages of the magazine it only got more disturbing. A 16 year old girl, her 18 year old best friend and both of her parents were killed by her 20 year old boyfriend (whom she met online) when he got a little jealous over a text message. The article focuses mainly on how the teens were into this horrorcore lifestyle and that was probably partially to blame. He bludgeoned them to death and then remained living in the house with the corpses on the floor for 3 days. The article I read was in People Magazine, but you can read up on her story here.

That article kind of reminded me of another disturbing incident which happened in Europe in 2003 that I read about in the waiting room of a doctors office. A sick boy in England pretended to be a whole slew of different people in an internet chatroom to plot his own murder with an innocent chatter. It's very intricate, complicated, confusing and nothing less than interesting, and it can be read here. Again, a movie, please!

Anyway, I'm losing faith in people in general. There are some really disturbed people out there and it only gets worse with time. It kind of makes me want to lock myself in my house because lord knows when a friend will get upset because I forgot to put them on my top friends list on Myspace and they stab me to death.

Gum Shoe!

It's amazing the things we take for granted. What's also amazing is how many people are fully aware that we take things for granted, but we can't help but to do it anyway as we get used to these amazing... things!

There's nothing I want more right now than a piece of gum. That's right. GUM. But can I chew it? No. These days, it feels that the only thing holding my jaw in place is the skin on my face. Scary, sick picture, I know. Instead, I have here the most delicious pack of tic tacs which mean NOTHING to me. These 1.9 calorie, artificially flavoured mints which encourage me to recycle do not take the place of gum in my heart.

The things we must sacrifice in the name of health. What's next? Cookies? Dream on.

Light at the end of the tunnel

today, 7:15 am

Sometimes the simple beauty of the world amazes me. *cue American Beauty floating plastic bag*

We are, indeed, a spoiled generation. Maybe we should get back to basics. I believe Louis CK said it best on Conan (I love you, CoCo)

Surprise pregnancy!

Okay, first I'd like to acknowledge how all of my other friends who have blogs always write some great, inspirational passages that are fun to read... and then there's me who mostly has something to rant about. For that, I apologize, but if people in this world were half as smart as I'd like to give them credit for, I wouldn't need to write so many complaints.

With that said, I've recently noted that a lot of old and new friends are expecting children! I'm both extremely happy for them and happy that it's not me. One case in particular caught my attention. A former classmate in good ole' New York who posted as her status that she's having baby was asked in a comment, "was it planned?" The classmate happily replied, "no! It's a total surprise!"

I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this. Honey, if you're not on birth control and you let your boyfriend/husband/guy next door ejaculate inside of you, it shouldn't be a surprise if you end up pregnant. In fact, it would be more fitting if you cried out, "I'm NOT pregnant! It's a total surprise!"

Now, if by chance you're reading this, please don't be offended because I've taken into consideration that maybe I'm jumping to conclusions or reading too deeply into the subject. Maybe you were on birth control, or maybe he did use a condom, but from past experience with this subject (I have a lot of friends), I'm going with neither precautions were taken.

In conclusion, I'd like to congratulate all of you ladies who are expecting or who are new mothers! I'm loving the belly pictures!

That one's a killer!

Hi! Good morning! Hello! I have a quick question and this is directed to all of my murderers out there ('sup homies?):

When you guys and gals are so angry or upset at someone to the point where you're going to shoot, stab, choke, drown, poison, etc, another person, what makes you think you're not going to be caught?

I'm just wondering. Real life isn't like the movies. You are not Dexter Morgan, our beloved Dark Defender. Yes, I understand some people do in all actuality "get away with murder," but do you realize the odds are as slim as getting struck by lightning or escaping prison or being in a plane crash? Don't bother googling my statistics, I made them up, but I stand by them just the same.

Oh wait, I have another question:

If you're going to go through the trouble of plotting and executing an... well, execution, why kill yourself afterwards?

You may as well have just killed yourself in the first place.


I don't know, that's just me.


I'd like to thank Ryan Jenkins for inspiring this blog.