I'm ashamed of my generation.

http://www.mrconservative.com/2012/01/565-letters-from-21-female/
^ The above link will lead you to one of the most offensive things I've read in a long time.
For those of you who would rather not waste your lives to read such ignorant trash, a 21 year old girl describes how she would change the welfare system.
Change 1: No longer allow anything but rice, beans, cheese, and milk to be bought with food stamps.
Change 2: Any women who are in "the system" should have their tubes tied or be forced birth control. Especially if they have so much as a trace of alcohol in their system at the time of a random drug test. (This girl obviously doesn't understand the meaning of moderation?)
Change 3: Public housing would turn into military barracks, and anything but the bare essentials would be repossessed by the government.

There is no way this girl has ever lived through the slightest bit of a financial struggle. I hate to wish badly on people, but I hope someday she  finds her "happily ever after," and then her husband leaves her to support herself and her children on her own. I hope her parents refuse to help. Let's see how easy it is to just "suck it up and get a job."
Many Americans living in poverty already have a job, but it's not enough. The economy sucks, and it's nearly impossible to support yourself on minimum wage. Obviously, there are people who could work and choose not to, but there are just as many, if not more, who would jump at the chance to work, but things like a criminal record, lack of transportation, or lack of experience are preventing them from doing so.

Now, I have a personal confession to make. I have been on food stamps. First, when I moved out of my mom's house. I didn't accept the EBT card so I could blow it all on candy and pop. When my parents divorced, my mom couldn't afford to support me. She had troubles feeding herself, let alone feeding me. The extra $80 a month made it possible for me to live independently after spending the past 5 months nearly homeless.
Second, when I lived in Moorhead. I was going to school full time, but I looked for work. My record forced every business I interviewed at to throw out my application. My mom had just passed away, and money from sympathy cards only lasted so long. Plus, city life is expensive. I only got $50 a month there, but that's an extra week's worth of food for my ex and I.
I have other friends who are still on food stamps. They don't get enough to spend extravagantly. Those who spend it all on junk are going to regret it at the end of the month when their real food runs out. If you're in "the system," you have to learn how to spend money wisely. It has to stretch, which means the average diet will consist of pasta and other grain products...very little meat or fresh produce. "Nutrition" only comes in boxes and cans.

Secondly, public housing isn't bad enough? The writer acts like low-income apartments are expensively decorated with freshly painted walls and granite countertops. No. I have yet to see any apartments that accept welfare recipients in good shape. The best of them could only be called average. Most of the buildings I've lived in or visited have nasty smells, stains, or even holes in the walls. They're in sketchy parts of town where you hear more sirens than any other noise.
My landlord in Kentucky specialized in renting to people who couldn't afford anything better. When the knob on my bathtub broke, he gave me a pair of pliers to turn the hot water on, rather than fixing it. When the handle on my toilet broke off, he told me to fix it on my own. You get what you pay for. Once again, people who abuse the system exist, but if an apartment isn't pristine, it's probably because the renters can't afford cleaning supplies...or laundry money to wash the piled up clothes.

If this girl got her way, people who are down on their luck would be even more ostracized from society. What's next? Any quality clothes (even if they were bought at thrift stores) would be taken away, and replaced with bright orange shirts marked "poor?" Because they don't deserve the same things as normal people... It's already hard enough to struggle to provide basic necessities...I've seen some nasty things...and with people like this sadly sheltered girl in the world, it will never get any easier.

This link almost made me cry. She needs to walk a mile in someone else's shoes...

Hope?

This time, I think I have more to write about. Today, I just finished my second day of the spring semester.
Just like last time, I'm going to have to survive studying without books or an at-home internet connection.
It's only the 13th, and I'm already out of money.
Tuition is due next Wednesday, and apparently I'm not supposed to call my aunt because she's too stressed out.
Due to my phone messing up, I had to pay $50 to reactivate that, rather than paying my electric bill on time.
Money sucks. But that's really no surprise. That's not what I'm concentrating this post on anyway.
(I do have more than enough food, so no worries there.)
I really like my classes so far. I haven't had Biology yet (but will on Tuesday.)
Criminology is gonna be really hard, but it's interesting, so I'm motivated to take notes. It's classes like that, that make me wish Sociology was a more feasible major. I don't know anyone there, but there are a few friendly people that sit in the back row.
Intro to Broadcast Journalism is awesome. I don't know anyone there either, but I can tell I'm gonna like the teacher. She's probably old enough to be my grandmother, or at least a great-aunt, but she knows what she's talking about when it comes to video stuff. I like that she doesn't seem to pick favorites. There are a lot of rich sorority girls in that class...It'd really suck if she gave them better grades because they could afford to shoot with expensive equipment. Thankfully, I do believe she's better than that.
History is SO DULL, but Alex is there and we keep each other entertained.
Alex is so cool. He was Brianna's friend first...but since she's not here, we've been hanging out together a lot. One awesome thing: Even if something bad happens and he can't come to school, I won't lose him as a friend because he lives in Cookeville. Unless his entire family moves, he's not going anywhere. I just hope he won't get sick of me. :)
I am still incredibly bitter about Tyler not being here. (and I miss Brianna too, but I know she's closer.) Yesterday was really, really bad, but today is more of a dull ache rather than a knife wound. I'm trying to be patient, but it's hard. There are all kinds of pills to make a headache or a cramp go away...why are there not pills that make emotional pain go away? I suppose that's what booze is for? But it's sooo expensive and not good for me...
Maybe I'd feel better if the sun would come out. (or that the clouds would go away, since it's dark now.) The other locals say the snow is so pretty, but I think it's hideous. I hate snow. It's cold, slippery, and makes walking home much more difficult! I'm about to do that...3 Kroger bags in hand...wishing the night bus existed  to rescue me from 6 blocks of turning into a human popsicle!

home time.

I'm still trying to be okay with what happened last week.
I keep telling myself "everything happens for a reason" and that it'll all work out for the best.
Like if/when you-know-who comes back in August, our friendship will be so much stronger and more awesome because of all the texting we've been doing, and getting to know each other without a huge group of people around.
But that's not what I'll be blogging about. I don't want to focus on The Sad too much, because then I won't be able to enjoy myself here. Yes, here. I'm at home now. North Dakota to be exact, but this was my last home before moving to Cookeville.
I don't have any pictures to share, because there was really nothing worth seeing on the entire trip. I slept through Tennessee, Kentucky, and Missouri. Of course I was fully awake through all the corn states.
South Dakota was by far the most boring. I think it even beats out North Dakota in flatness and emptiness, too. I came home with only one postcard since none of the other gift shops had anything. It was a very, very dull trip. I'm so glad it's over.
Now I don't really know what to expect while I'm here. I know for the next couple of days I'm gonna do as little as possible. Long rides wear me out. But I have to go to the mall, no matter what. I have absolutely no money, but it's Christmas season! Free samples everywhere!
I'm not going to plan things too rigidly, because we all know what happens when I get my hopes up for something. I'll take it a day at a time. Like right now, I'm in my cousin's guest room (which looks like a hotel room, I swear. It's nice.) and she ordered me pizza. I'm going to stuff myself, because beef jerky and fruit snacks just don't cut it for the 3 meals I should have had...
It's harder to be sad when you're full, ya know?

Loss is crushing, but we'll get through it.

Tyler made up his mind to go back to Nashville for a semester.
I hate that he had to see me cry. Not for my own sake, but because it made him unhappy.
The shock hurts so bad, because we were doing so well...
But I'm a stubborn girl. I won't let this friendship end. 8 months are gonna be really hard, but we'll figure it out. I made him promise to visit. And we can text. Maybe he'll even get a Facebook page. And I'm gonna work my butt off to get a job so I can travel more.
I don't care if it makes the school workload harder.
I don't care if I have to deal with more panic attacks and greyhound rides.
I'm not losing another friend.
I. Will. Not.

To everyone who is actually coming back next semester:
Don't make me talk about it.
Be my distractions. Keep me busy and happy and entertained. Or try.
Don't tell me I'll be okay or that I'll make new friends. I know I will, even if I don't want to.
Nothing any of you could ever say will make it hurt less.
Just be there. That's all I need.

what happens when someone learns my secrets.

It's out of the bag.
He found out.
If you've been reading for the last couple weeks, you know who and what I'm talking about.
And he has been so distant...we talked for a bit yesterday, but I feel like there is more tension now, not less. Being around him is just uncomfortable. I'm not purposely avoiding him, but I'm sitting in the library right now rather than the UC because I'm in need of some inner peace.
I had my emotional explosion yesterday. You know, the usual crying in the rain for half an hour or so. (It always rains...how strange.) I prepared myself for a worse reaction (like, "Eww, what the hell...you're the grossest girl I've ever met. Go away...") so only being avoided is tolerable, though I'm still disappointed.
Falling for friends is the most painful curse any girl can have...unless they're the beautiful type who no one would ever turn away. Lucky, lucky people.
I can't help but wonder if my standards are too high. Is it too much to ask to have a friendly bond with someone before it evolves into more, or am I destined to settle for internet losers for the rest of my life? Right now, my only hopes for any guy I'm involved with are: to live in the same town as me, live independently (or not have strict parents that forbid them from seeing me), and either be in school or working. Impossible? Perhaps.
But I really, really don't want to go back to settling.
I hope someday, someone can show me that I deserve better than an emotionally abusive, unmotivated waste of space who lives in his mom's basement, mooching off her food stamps.
& hopefully we'll be friends first.

With this post, I say my goodbyes to the BCM.

I had thought about making this post yesterday, but I decided I'd "sleep on it" and see if anything changed once morning came. So for anyone who thinks I'm speaking (writing?) in the heat of the moment, I'm not. I'm typing logically, I promise.
I suppose people should know why I probably won't be at Common Ground on Tuesday to wrap the Operation Christmas Child presents. I don't want to get like 5 texts asking what's up. Oh, I've been thinking about this for awhile. There is a very specific reason I went to the UCSC with Sam last week. (And I would have gone this week too, but he went home for the weekend.) For awhile, I was considering spending time at both places. I was incredibly busy, but I could manage being in two places at once, so to speak.
And then, last night happened. I was just clicking through some old pictures when I (accidentally) realized that a fellow BCM-er blocked me on Facebook. I had unfriended him a few days ago - which is what I do when I'm no longer interested in receiving updates about a person's life. But I only block people when I have been stalked relentlessly, harassed, or otherwise seriously offended.
And if he thinks like me at all, I must have done something terribly wrong for him to want to deliberately erase me from his (e)-life. So I am doing the respectful thing and keeping my distance. I refuse to be antagonistic and invade his space...and the BCM is his space.
(Other random thing I've noticed = The only times I have had "bad moments"-- outside of financial reasons, since coming to Cookeville -- were because of things that had happened at the BCM. I have never left any other event or social group in a hopelessly depressed mood.)
I suppose I'll still go to events if someone invites me, but not by myself. I don't know if I'll still go to English hour or not. I'll try it once and see how I feel after. If I can still find a way to go to my community group, I will. They have been nothing but good to me.
So what will I do with the extra time? I don't have any exciting adventures planned up to now, but maybe I'll run into something. I do need to get my apartment cleaned out before Christmas break, but you all know how badly I procrastinate...Oh, I'll miss the cheap/free food...
For lunch on Thursdays, I have people to sit with. Brianna is always at Swoops during dead hour, along with my favorite member of the SG, who will now be nicknamed ANF (Awesome New Friend), and people that they both know. On Thursday nights, the SG spends their time in Jobe Hall, and there is always room for me. I don't have to worry about being lonely. ANF & I ate lunch together every single day last week. I think he likes to make sure that I'm not sad after seeing the void that K left.
I'm so excited for tonight, when the new people come back from wherever they went for the weekend. If I focus on putting more effort into this group, I think life will make a turn for the better, and I'll come home sad much less often.

Even now, not all guys suck.

I've noticed something.
When one friend (or two?) leaves my life, no matter what the reason may be, someone is always there to take their place.
Note: Once upon a time, there was a guy (who will remain unnamed) who said that he was interested in me. We had roughly two weeks of awesome days, and then fall break came. When school resumed, he had suddenly become quiet and distant. My theory was that he met a girl (or an old ex?) back home and felt confused. Turns out, he had really been falling for one of my friends that I had introduced him to. They are now happily dating, less than a week after he told me, "I don't have time for girls." Lies, lies, lies. I've heard that excuse before, but I thought we were out of high school? Guys, seriously. Be honest. Save a girl's sanity.
Way back, a few days after school started, Kyle and his roommate (grr) & their friends told me, "No matter who you meet at Tech, never get involved with a Baptist guy. It will not end well." I should have listened to them, but I didn't. Still, when I ran to them with the sad news, they didn't shove it back in my face, taunting, "I told you so!" They welcomed me back into their social circle with open arms.
I flat-out ignored their advice but they've still stuck around to pick up the pieces.
I'm thinking I have been a bad friend. I neglected them because I was trying SO hard to make "good churchy people" like messed-up little me.
This group of guys (& a few girls) who are hereby known as the Summer Group...they've been here since the beginning (2 weeks post-move in), when James (roomie to K) found me on the internet and brought me over to his house for the first time.
All summer, that house was my safe place. Also where I did laundry, used the internet, cooked my microwaveable food, watched TV, stayed when my electricity got cut off, and slept when my air conditioner was broken. When the dorms re-opened on that last Thursday in August, the group expanded and I met more people who have stayed in the background of my life...until now. After K left, his friends have made sure I'm hardly ever lonely.
I'm afraid to admit that since I no longer have FailGuy #5 to try to impress, I've begun to attach myself to a member of the SG (Who will also stay un-named. No one will figure it out.) He's been there since the day the dorms first opened, but we've never had a real conversation before Monday. Turns out he's actually really friendly & sweet & pays lots of attention to me. :)
As I said, someone always takes the place of a lost person.
And this time around, I have learned some valuable information.
1. None of my single girl friends will ever meet this person through me. I'm no longer willing to sabotage my chances, especially by accident! >_<
2. No matter what happens, I will not neglect my other friends in order to keep one person's attention. I need to make time for the people who have made time for me.
3. I will not reveal any secrets to him without his prompting. Setting myself up for failure? No more!

Maybe it's true that every heartbreak teaches a lesson. If so, I must have learned a lot by now.
If you would like to beat some sense into me, go ahead and try. :)

grieving for someone not yet dead AKA sad week story

Today, when I could feel my heart breaking, I texted the usual person I talk to about stuff, and he told me to talk to a girl, so I came here. I don't know any girl well enough to unload all of this onto. Actually, no person deserves that at all. Right now, this blog is my closest friend.

Dear Kyle,
I hate your roommate for kicking you out. Like, never want to go to his house again, hate him. It wouldn't be the same without you anyway. Did you know, you were the first friend I had in this town who never tried to use me for sex? The first guy I knew in Tennessee entirely who had good intentions...who could hug me without trying to feel me up? If I had a way to help you, know that I would have. Cookeville will have a chunk missing until you come back. I hope you come back. I think it's been a good year since I cried this hard.

For everyone else,
I had to say goodbye to someone else this weekend too... though he's still here. That wasn't as painful... It still hurt, because I still had the message saved in my phone where he said he liked me, (it's deleted now, as well as his cell # and FB page) but it was like, we just drifted apart. With that, I think I'll be okay, because I found a new church group to join...Ben introduced me to one of his friends, and we spent the entire day together. If the rest of the people at this group are as nice as he was, it'll be just as awesome as the BCM, if not more so. I hate walking into a place where everyone already knows each other, but it's the biggest sliver of hope I have. Maybe things will get better once I meet some new people who aren't involved in the drama.

And, as my status obviously states, K & I will have one heck of a time keeping in touch...since I'll have no computer to type on. I'm returning this one back to it's rightful owner. B. was nice enough letting me use it for this long. And since I'm a good friend and not a mooch, he is getting it back as soon as I can meet up with him.

So this is the icing on the cake of a terrible week. Tomorrow was supposed to be my birthday party. I have no cake, no decorations, no cards, and no guest list. I'll still be there, waiting for a person or two to show up. K. never even got an invitation.

I'm sorry I don't have many good things to report this week. I just feel so utterly defeated.
At least, unlike last year, no one died.

All writing is meaningful.

Title of blog = Advice my first local reader gave me. He tells me not to censor myself, and to write what I really think. So...I will. Partially because my journal is now floating somewhere around Tech campus, and I don't have a private place to write anymore!
This weekend...aw heck, all semester, I've had problems with internet guys. This is today's topic.
The last one ended less explosively than most, but maybe this is because we had only known each other less than a week. He (Let's call him B. Not B as in Ben, the text/church/awesome friend I've written about, this guy is just B.) got my hopes up ALL week that he was going to come see me...I dug through all my pants pockets, purses, couch cushions, etc, to find enough money to pay his gas. He got here...and turned right back around and left. Because his mother told him to. Whatever happens to living life for yourself once you turn 18? Lesson learned. I will no longer show interest or involvement in any guy still living under his parents rule...or in a different town. Paying gas money? Ha. Like I have any to spare. By the way, I took the money that was supposed to be spent on his gas, and bought myself some awesome food at Cream City -- Cookeville's best coffee/ice cream shop.
I suppose, since coming here, I've learned more about what I DON'T want in a guy than what I do.
After the fail that is "A," I realized seeing the potential guy at least once a week has to happen in order for any kind of relationship to work out. You need to make time for each other. I really liked him, but I was way at the bottom of his list of priorities. Probably somewhere between alcohol and video games.
C-Fail taught me that it's best if a guy meets your friends. If they don't like him, they're probably looking out for your best interests. Also, me seeing a guy with road rage? Not happening. I don't need another trigger for my anxiety attacks anytime soon.
M - biggest fail of them all. You learn a lot about a person in the first three days that you hang out. If he tries to "go around all the bases" in that time frame, and advertises for another girl the day of a breakup, he's probably just an all around creeper, good looking and friendly as he may seem.
All 4 of these miserable experiences came from meeting people on one social networking site. MyYearbook. Girls, guys, HUMANS in general. Please avoid meeting dates on MyYearbook.
There are enough sad stories on the internet. Don't add to it.

Thought Questions #2

Yesterday's TQ: "Who have you been thinking about recently?"
That question isn't being answered. I'm not embarrassing myself and jumping into another volcano of drama. No one will ever, ever know.

So I'll just talk about church again.
(Or whatever Common Ground calls itself.)

Sometimes I have these crazy emotional moments where I just want to sing as loud as my voice will let me, and I just pray & feel at peace. But shortly after, my mood has a shift. That pure happiness can only last for a couple hours at most. Then I wake up really, really depressed.

Don't get me wrong, I would never "almost die" again. But I start to wish I had never been born in the first place. That's how bad it is. Honestly, right now I feel like the entire planet would be better off without me. But I won't do anything because I know the feeling will pass.

I don't think that's how church is supposed to make you feel.
I was so confused for a long time (like years), but I think I've figured out the psychology behind my insanity.
I don't like feeling vulnerable.
I don't like hearing intense, spiritual music and realizing I can't save myself.
I base my entire life around being strong, and when I'm forced to feel weak, I can't stand myself. And then I feel lost. I don't know what to do. I still don't.
I just pray. A lot. Is that enough?

And so begins the inner turmoil, wondering if BCM events 3 times a week is good for me. Deep down, I know it is. But the emotional roller coaster is wearing me down.
Why can't I just feel (or act) happy all the time like the rest of the "church people?"

It gets better, I promise.

4/20 is the birthday of a couple of my friends...
but most people think of it as the national weed holiday.
It's always been kind of a sad day for me.
When I was in 6th grade, one of my first e-friends died of cancer on April 20th, 2002.
She was only 14. I was 12.
It's been 9 years.
I haven't thought about it in a long, long time,
but I had a kind of flashback when I was at the grocery store today.
(It'll all make sense in a little bit, I swear.)
...When I was 16 or 17, I had a mental breakdown that summer.
Worse than my other high school years.
My mom told me I was pretty much chronically suicidal, but I was so drugged with anti-depressants & anti-anxiety pills that I don't remember it. (Or most of high school, actually...)
I apparently passed out on the grass in the front yard.
My mom tried to wake me up by doing all kinds of stuff but nothing made me move.
It was during that time that I had the weirdest dream...
I don't remember that day at all, but I remember the dream so clearly.
I dreamed I was in this weird park...there were trees everywhere, like no tree I've ever seen anywhere I've ever lived. They were like weeping willows but with fuller leaves. There was water everywhere too, like puddles. Not mud puddles, though. The water was really clear and blue.
There was a rope swing tied to one of the trees, and Hello Kitty was swinging on it.
(Told you. Super weird.)
Then this girl that had died like 5 years earlier was hanging out with Hello Kitty, and she started talking to me.
She told me that I have to keep pushing and not give up, because there were so many good things in life that I didn't deserve to miss out on. She said there were things in life much bigger than prom or who would add me on Myspace.
I was in high school. So that's basically all that DID exist in my life at the time. I couldn't imagine anything else. I didn't think waiting would be worth it. I thought I was better off dead for a couple more years after that. I told this girl that she didn't understand. By that time I was in the hospital laying on a bed, and my mom said I was staring up at the ceiling having a conversation with someone she couldn't see. She said she didn't think I was sleeping, because my words weren't slurred at all. She says I woke up just like I had gotten up from a nap, and asked for tacos.
I think I get it now...what happened, although I still have no idea what that experience was.
Maybe that girl was my conscience projected onto another body. Who knows.
But now that I'm out of the torture chamber called high school,
and my dysfunctional family is basically not involved with my life,
I have seen so many amazing things that make me happy to be here and alive.
I wish I could tell every depressed, bullied, lonely girl who has no safe place,
that the pain doesn't last. It comes and goes, but there's more to life than that...
They've just gotta wait for it.
I got really, really close to offing myself a couple different times.
Even though there are probably still people I know who wish I had succeeded,
I'm glad I didn't get my way.

My mother and my grandma were the only people who knew about this experience, but now that I made sense of it, I don't see why I shouldn't share it...it was quite interesting.

Oh, and here's one of my new favorite songs. Ignoring the parts about being in a famous band, this song is my life story.

Catless. Day 1.

I've had tears running down my face all day, but surprisingly, my makeup holds up.
Life's chewed me up and spit me out once again.
I got off the Greyhound at 12:35...right on time.
Sweaty, exhausted, and frankly disgusted to see all this frozen white garbage littering the grass.
I didn't come back on a good note.
No, I'm not talking about the countless turds Demon laid on my bedroom floor.
I'm talking about the fact that the cats weren't even there.
I walked in to my living room thinking they were taken to a shelter and immediately put down.
My aunt then informed me that they'd be staying at her garage.
Basically, the same thing.
After she said that would be the best option for them,
she went on to talk about her cat who had just died because he walked outside and got hit by a car on the highway.
My kittens have been indoor-only since birth.
They don't deserve to be thrown out with someone's trash bags and garage-sale castoffs.
They could contract a disease from some wandering tom cat,
be impregnated by an unknown stray with who knows how many diseases,
eaten by a hungry dog that feels like passing by,
shot by a heartless redneck with a mood for killing...
My aunt couldn't even promise they'd all be there when I was ready to take them back and move.
And I'm supposed to be GRATEFUL?
I'll only be grateful when they're with me again.
I feel like a wrongly accused mother who just lost her children to the unknown horrors of foster care.
I don't even know WHEN I can see them again...
Until I do, I'll remain this quivering mess who's seriously lacking something to love.