its me against the world and the world is winning

Mon, 12 Sep 2005 11:47:20 GMT

btw, there are six underscores total, so figure that one out right before you comment to be added, bc its friends only.

Wed, 08 Jun 2005 11:54:24 GMT

why do finals occur? because some SOB mastermind decided that torturing innocent high schoolers is lots of fun. damn them. its time for some lyrics.

In the town where I was born
Lived a man who sailed to sea
And he told us of his life
In the land of submarines

So we sailed up to the sun
Till we found the sea of green
And we lived beneath the waves
In our yellow submarine

We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine

And our friends are all on board
Many more of them live next door
And the band begins to play

We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine

[Full speed ahead, Mr. Parker, full speed ahead!
Full speed over here, sir!
Action station! Action station!
Aye, aye, sir, fire!
Heaven! Heaven!]

As we live a life of ease (A life of ease)
Everyone of us (Everyone of us) has all we need (Has all we need)
Sky of blue (Sky of blue) and sea of green (Sea of green)
In our yellow (In our yellow) submarine (Submarine, ha, ha)

We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine

oy vei. mr mellottis essay today. wish me luck.

Mon, 06 Jun 2005 19:22:23 GMT

bathing suit shopping.

a treacherous, painful, and emotional endeavor, especially for those who only dream of being a size six.

first, the unwilling shopper is subjected to a forest of triangles and strings. beset by the scanty but overpowering metaphorical "trees" of the forest, the shopper is forced to retreat into the even-numbered section - not quite womens, but in a milder section of the swimsuit forest. after getting over the fact that each bikini is made up of 4 TRIANGLES OF FABRIC, tied together by lycra STRINGS, i could breeze through them on a rack in seconds. i discovered that most of the bathing suits that could even hope to cover my midsection were one-pieces. i would have been more open minded to them if they all didnt remind me of someone over fifty years old. so i found a few tankinis that were fairly cute, and then i headed for the dressing rooms.

another painful experience.

i swear, i dont know if it is the lights or the mirrors or my predisposition, but i swear, i looked fifteen pounds heavier in that damn mirror than usual. nothing fit. i was crying and yelling at my mom to get the next size up and rebelling and ripping things and it was bad. so then, after not finding anything that would not have caused civil unrest by me wearing it, i moved on to the next store.

same results.

by the third store, i was thoroughly irritated, my mother was about to kill me, we had not spent a dime, and i was negative in the self esteem department. i know you all say, oh anna your not fat. fine. but i still look like shit in a bathing suit. grrrrrr. i felt like shitshitshitshitiness after that trip. but i suprisingly found two (thats right, TWO tankini/skirted bottom thingies by the fourth store) siuts that i felt would not cause children to run screaming to their mothers and the army invading and world leaders suing America for allowing such a monstrosity to roam the streets... they are cute, and for the first time in my life, i am excited for summer. even after my bikini overkill experience, i am happy. :)

so sorry i haveint been commenting on y'alls journals, ive been uuber busy. not that some of you who read this every eighteen entries or so will care, but an apology to you as well.

i will be home this summer. call me or die <3

6835291 merci.

Tue, 31 May 2005 11:50:44 GMT

HI!

i have a shitload to accomplish in this entry, so listen up!

firstly and most importantly, i need your prayers for my aunt who is very ill. she lives in st. louis. on monday, one of hr lungs collapsed, so she was rushed to the hospital. then they discovered that the other lung had tons of blood clots. she kind of responded to therapy, but she is currently in ICU. my dad is in louisiana on a biz trip, and my mom and my grandma are going to fly down to st. louis tomorrow, so i will go and stay with meg samberg. YAY for meg and her mom for being supernice and letteing me stay at their house! so pray people that i dont drive them crazy!!!

so on friday i went to the st mary's fair and met up with karlie, bethany, rachel, anne, mooma, brett, and johnny. and i saw sooo many people! i saw evan and alyse and lyndsey and alyssa and abbie and danielle and esther and shayla and tons of boys from refuge and abbott, from whom i recieved some MEAN stares. fuck you guys. the boys, not the girls. the girls were supersweet and gave hugs and we chatted for 2.5 seconds before i got ADD and had to go on a ride. teehee it was fun tho. some chick from abbott was on the zipper at the same time as me and karlie and she started yelling at evan who was on the ground walking by, and i told him this later, and i think that he thought it was me because i was wearing blue and so was she. but it wasnt. the zipper was funny tho bc i thought i was dead, so i was screaming at karlie, "OMG IM DEAD! I DIED!!!!" and it was bloody insane. funny, tho. then we had this competition btwn our group and another group from marian to see how many names of guys we could get. we got like, thirty, and they had four, so then later it was tied, and then i had to leave, so im not really sure what happened. that was friday.

ooh! quote from a convo btwn beth and this guy:

B: "what's your name?"

"Barry"

B: "Peter?"

hahaha funny.

okay, so then on saturday, my grandparents came in and we played tennis. yeehaw.

then on sunday, i went to francis' grad party, now THAT was funny!! me and alex and maria were doing the macarena, and then all these ppl were doing it, then they played the song while gab tried to sing along. FUNNY! and alex decided she would be a happy drunk. she kept trying to steal the coronas. bad alex.

i might elaborate more later. i must, however, go now. pray for my aunt please!!

<3<3<3me

Sun, 29 May 2005 18:15:43 GMT

_getfunked_up is a rockin cool community. y'all should join!

more later.

Thu, 26 May 2005 00:07:52 GMT

alright, i have alot to accomplish in this entry, so listen up bitches.

first of all, heres a quiz:

hug from behind - you like to feel what the other
person is feeling and see things how they see
them. you tend to be serious and emotional.

What Sign of Affection Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
just because im cool like that.

now! heres the fun part: st marys fair. i am going on friday, anyone who lives kinda far away or really anyone is welcome to come to my phat crib (whiteness is leaking out of my mouth) and chill (drip, drip) fo sho (splat)

also - i love alana because she is hot. and because chai tea latte looks like jizz and because gab is a soccer mom as well as a pimp and well, its all good.

uuummm yeah, so thats basically it. i think. hmm. alright, yeah. oh wait!

2 things you have to do if you read this. i know some will read and not comment, and well, im sorry for you. but heres the plaaaaan man.

1. comment with memories
2. if you had one night with me, what would we do?
so thats about it. thank you for reading and dont forget - its the little link at the bottom right of this entry. thank you!!!

Sun, 22 May 2005 22:55:19 GMT

new icon. get on those questions from last entry. oh wait, heres another.

5. why does everyone steal my icons? im not an icon nazi, but at least put some blurb in like, thanks for the icon anna! or, stolen icon from anna! its not really that difficult.

not mad, just disappointed.

i have a few questions

Sun, 22 May 2005 22:48:44 GMT

1. evan, why do you hate me?

2. chris, what happened to your back?

3. everyone, why wont you tell me what day you want to go to the fair?

these items have been peeving me for a long time. especially the first one. seriously, if you dont like someone, tell them. it makes everything more convenient. im not offended for crying out loud. i just need to understand why my ims are being ignored.

thanks.

Sat, 21 May 2005 18:05:28 GMT

i am so pissed. i wanted to go to gabs grad party, but i couldnt get a hold of kate, so there was nobody to take me. and i ruined my favorite shirt ever. and my hair looks like shit. i am basically jsut very angry... that was my favorite shirt and it actually did not look like shit on me.
ggrrr.
call for plans, since i am evidently free today.

Fri, 20 May 2005 16:44:17 GMT

i feel - light and floaty. i dont know why.

that inspires me to post lyrics. yay!

There's a song that's inside of my soul
It's the one that I've tried to write over and over again
I'm awake in the infinite cold
But You sing to me over and over and over again

So I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands
and pray to be only Yours
I pray to be only Yours
I know now you're my only hope

Sing to me the song of the stars
Of Your galaxy dancing and laughing
and laughing again
When it feels like my dreams are so far
Sing to me of the plans that You have for me over again

So I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours
I pray to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope

I give You my destiny
I'm giving You all of me
I want Your symphony
Singing in all that I am
At the top of my lungs I'm giving it back

So I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours
I pray to be only yours
I pray to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope

okay. somthing meaningful. hmm. not happening.
so kate - would you like to take me to gabsa grad partae? perhaps.

i will be home probably tomorrow and sunday so give me a call! yes!

also - i shall dominate 4th hour world history with my superfab resolution that i am co authoring with germany and russian fed. DOMINATiON!

<3 mwahness and!
comment if you want to go to the fair!!!!!!

Thu, 19 May 2005 02:57:55 GMT

hey for those who dont know, bethanys lj is passionoxox , so leave her a comment and she will add you if she hasnt already.

this one time at band camp... i actually did my homework.

no i didnt, so i better go do that.

comment if your hott <3

sorry, i couldnt resist hinting people off....

Tue, 17 May 2005 23:35:30 GMT

Your Seduction Style: Ideal Lover

You seduce people by tapping into their dreams and desires.
And because of this sensitivity, you can be the ideal lover for anyone you seek.
You are a shapeshifter - bringing romance, adventure, spirituality to relationships.
It all depends on who your with, and what their vision of a perfect relationship is.

What Is Your Seduction Style?

Tue, 17 May 2005 23:28:54 GMT

um just to touch on the granma sitch.
today, she told my sister that she needed help getting christmas presents out of her car.

1. chrismas is 7 months away
2. she doesnt have a car

uggghhh. okay, whatever.

i got my pink parent permit today!!! it was so exciting!!!! i drove home! except i kinda hug the right side of the road so when i was going around that curvy part of orchard lake road, my mom screamed b/ she thought i was gonna hit a guardrail. lol

can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things
We can do the tango just for two
I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings
Be your Valentino just for you

Ooh love - Ooh Loverboy
What're you doin' tonight, hey boy -
Set my alarm, turn on my charm
That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy

Ooh let me feel your heartbeat (grow faster, faster)
Ooh Ooh let me feel your love heat
Come on and sit on my hot-seat of love
And tell me how do you feel right after-all
I'd like for you and I to go romancing

Say the word - your wish is my command
Ooh love - Ooh loverboy
What're you doin' tonight, hey boy
Write my letter
Feel much better
I'll use my fancy patter on the telephone
When I'm not with you
I think of you always
I miss you -
(I miss those long hot summer nights)
When I'm not with you
Think of me always
I love you - Love you

Hey boy where do you get it from
Hey boy where did you go?
I learned my passion in the good old
fashioned school of loverboys-
Dining at the Ritz we'll meet at nine precisely
I will pay the bill, you taste the wine
Driving back in style, in my saloon will do quite nicely
Just take me back to yours that will be fine (Come on and get it)

Ooh love, Ooh loverboy
What're you doin' tonight, hey boy -
Everything's all right
Just hold on tight -
That's because I'm a good old fashioned loverboy

okay, so next weeekend is the fair. details, ppl!

<3 mwah

Tue, 17 May 2005 00:14:20 GMT

you know whats depressing?

well? do ya?

how about this. your grandma gets a letter in the mail from your uncle. "must be a christmas card", she says.

or this. you remember grandma bragging about you being in mun at the party on saturday. and today when you get home from school, "what sports event were you in washington for again?"

that may not seem like a big deal for some ppl. but it really saddens me how fast shes deteriorating. its commonplace for her to ask the same question every five minutes. or forget her son's name. or what month it is.

sorry. kinda depressed right now.

Sun, 15 May 2005 23:40:43 GMT

mmkay sorry i havent updated in a while....

i am in drivers ed and it takes up a shitload of time. but i get my "pink parent permit" on tues i think. my aunt asked if my parents would have to wear pink.

my brothers first communion was on sat and there was mass hysteria and insanity all over the place. there were like, 55 ppl there. we are going to be eating leftovers for as month. my uncles drank half a bottle of vodka and playeud euchre with our neightbors and swore loudly and smoked cigars and my grandma was hanging out with mrs. byrd's mom and it was funny and then i played some euchre and some freeze tag and capture the flag. whew.

so the seniors are almost done. how depressing.

ya know what else is depressing? the rest of us arent.

thats pretty mcuh my weekend. drivers ed has been pretty crazy. there are some sketchy kids in there. like this one girl has like, pink and purple hair and she goes to an ALTERNATIVE school. meg thought that was an art school far from it, sweetie. and this kid is like, stoned all the time. he looks like a horse.

alright, now im done. comment, bitches.

Sun, 08 May 2005 17:45:25 GMT

today ofr mothers day - we pimped my moms ride! it was super fab fab fabulous. we washed her car and we cleaned the indside then we bought some helpfull stuff for her from kmart. yay for mothers day!!!!

this entry is dedicated to all those who are mean (i.e., thibs)

Thu, 05 May 2005 16:49:49 GMT

Big Weenie Lyrics

I don't understand
Why are you being so mean?
You're mean mean man

[Chorus]
You are just jealous of me
Cuz you, you just can't do what I do
So instead of just admitting it
You walk around and say
All kinds of really mean things
About me cuz you're a meanie, a meanie
But it's only cuz you're
Just really jealous of me
Cuz I'm what you want to be
So you just look like an idiot
When you say these mean things
Cuz it's too easy to see
You're just a really big weenie, big weenie

[Verse 1]
Alright listen, I need you to focus
I need you to go dig deep in your mind, this is important
We are going to perform an experiment of the sorts
I'm going to have to ask you to bear with me for a moment
Now I need you to open your mind-your eyes close them
You are now about to be placed under my hypnosis
For the next four and a half minutes
We are going to explore into your mind
To find out why you're so fuckin' jealous
Now why did they make Yoo-Hoo?
Hippity ga-ga boo-boo
Psych, I'm kidding
I just wanted to see if you're still listenin'
Ok, now I need your undivided attention
Sir I have a question
Why do I always sense this undeniable tension
From the moment that I enter into the room
It gets all quiet and whispers
Whenever theres conversation, why am I always mentioned?
I've been dying to ask, it's been itchin' at me
Is it just because

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
Alright now I, I just flubbed a line
I was going to say something extremely important
But I forgot who or what it was, I fucked up
Psych, I'm kidding again you idiot, no I didn't
That's just what you wanted to hear from me
Is that I fucked up ain't it?
But I can bust one take without lookin' at no paper
It doesn't take a bunch of takes
Or me to stand here in this booth all day
For me to say the truth, ok?
You're droolin, you have tooth decay
Your mouth is open, you're disgusting
What the fuck you eat for lunch
A bunch of sweets or something, what?
You munch a bunch of Crunch 'N Munch?
Your tooth is rotten to the gum
Your breath stinks, wanna chew some gum?
Yes I do sir, what am I on?
You sir are on truth syrum
Marshall I'm so jealous of you
Please say you won't tell nobody
I'd be so embarrassed, I'm just absolutely terrified
That someone's gonna find out why I'm saying
All these terrible, evil and awful mean things
It's my own insecurity!

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Alright now we, we're going to conduct
That experiment that we were talking about earlier
Just to see what a frog looks like when it takes two hits of ecstasy
Cuz that's exactly what your eyes look like, want to check to see?
Here's a mirror, notice the resemblence here?
Wait, let me put these sun glasses on
Now look in this mirror, how about now?
What do you have in common?
You're both green with envy and look like idiots with sunglasses on 'em
You look like I sound like singing about weenies
Now take my weenie out of your mouth
This is between me and you, I know you're not happy
I know you'd much rather see me lying in the corner of a room somewhere crying
Curled up in a ball tweeked out of my mind dying
There is no denying that my weenie is much bigger than yours is
Mine is like sticking a banana between two oranges
Why you even doing this to yourself, it's pointless
Why do we have to keep on going through this, this is tortuous
My point is this
That if you say mean things, weenie will shrink
Now I fogot what the chorus is, your just is...

[Chorus]

Wed, 04 May 2005 19:14:23 GMT

hello!!!

this entry is to commemorate the continuation of a very special holiday invented by alana and brigitte:

my own!

today, as well as yesterday and tomorrow i think, is

"i wish i was anna harris day"

so, we know that you have all wanted to be me, so now you can be!

simply wear a tie in your hair, curl your hair, wear a jean jacket, or really do anything that reminds you of me.

boys - do what you have to do, but dont make me feel bad

oh, and a shout out to francis for taking me home! thanks pal!

okay, another thing. evan! would you care to comment and inform the ignorant about what days the st marys fair is?

merci beaucoup!

<3 as alex would say, puddles and buckets of love!!!

Fri, 29 Apr 2005 11:44:53 GMT

so. nobody commented last time. depressing.

today is a good day. its friday.

my thoughts are rather segmented. hense the space btween each line.

today is model senate. i am excited b/c i got a kick ass article that makes gay marriage look AWFUL. excitement.

watch, now im gonna get a shitload of comments b/c i dissed gay marriage. well fine. i dont give a shit.

im not in a bad mood, in case i gave off that vibe.

i just feel like putting periods at the ends of my sentences instead of ! <-

i dont know what that specific punctuation mark is called.

st mary's fair.
comment to join
that means you.

yes you

dont just sit there like youre not reading this.

also

comment b/c gay marriage sucks.

but dont bitch me out.

thanks.

bye now.

Thu, 28 Apr 2005 11:40:53 GMT

hmmm... perhaps i should update.

hahaha lets do a themed thing here, shall we? i have nothing better to do, and if you are reading this, neither do you.

why dont you....

comment
if
you
want
my
sweet
...
nevermind. i was going to say something dirty but i didnt.

i feel confident today. is that a pig i see flying?

i feel almost BoUnCy!!!!

i
feel
good!
if
you
are
sick
of
me,
i dont blame you!!!

hahahahaha made you click

BBBBBBBYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEE NNNNNNNNNNOOOOOWWWWWWW!!!!

Fri, 22 Apr 2005 19:02:45 GMT

so tonight my cousin and aunt and uncle are coming in from chicago, so it shall be insane at my house once more.... i am baby sitting tomorrow night, which means that i shall be online. you had better follow suit if you want to talk to me. or you could call me.

that is basically all i have to say.

oh yeah!! evan, if you tell me what day you are going to the fair, i will try and get there that day. i have no other plans for that weekend. it would be so much fun if i could get a group together to go... ooh the possibilities.

comment if you want to go to the st mary's fair. also comment if you dont know what that is.

mwah

**[2][4][8][6][8][3][5][2][9][1]**

just a little something i wrote...

Tue, 19 Apr 2005 23:33:28 GMT

A really good relationship is like a really good, sturdy pair of classic jeans. You spot them long before the relationship begins, hanging in the store window, all fresh and clean, and you want them so bad. Finally when the day comes that you can have them, you try them on, and they hug you in all the right places, and you know that this is the pair for you. They have a new stiffness to them, but you know that with time they will be as soft as baby skin. You bring them home and hang them first in your closet, then you stuff them in a drawer, then you lay them across your bed and admire them. Others might not see their beauty, but you do. You wear them everywhere – to school, to the mall, where all the other jeans are jealous, to a party, the movies… the two of you are inseparable. Your friends comment on how cute you two look together, and you smile and blush. They always hold you, making you feel confident and sexy. Sometimes, you get something on them, like pop or something from dinner or some dirt, and those are the little flare ups and arguments you two get into. But simply give them some space and some Tide and everything is healed again. You share loving memories, like the rainstorm in which the two of you stood together, letting the clear drops penetrate the smooth blue denim and feeling the cold sensation as the drops touch you skin, or when you two sat on the beach and watched the sun go down, holding each other and silently sharing so much love. The jeans refuse to let you be cold – their warmth is like a fire. Once or twice, the jeans will get ripped, because you fell and skinned your knee or something sharp sliced them, and these rips are the really big, long fights, when you feel like the end of the relationship is close. But then mom fixes them, and although there is a permanent scar left from the discrepancy, you two are back together. After time, you realize that the jeans know just how to hang on your body, because you have broken them in. Now they are soft as silk, and little worn spots are growing in the knees from the monotony which has grown in your relationship. It is not your fault; nor the fault of the jeans. Monotony is something that few couples can keep out of their relationship forever. Soon, the jeans just don’t fit anymore. Denial takes over, and you still force them to zip over the few extra holiday pounds that you have developed, but soon it’s no use. You both have accepted the fact that there is no reconciling the differences or poundage which has slowly ended the relationship. But this does not help the pain that you are feeling. Once upon a time, these very jeans made you look like a million bucks, and now they make you look like a stuffed cocktail weenie. So the jeans find their way into the back of your closet, serving as a painful reminder of something wonderful that you once had and can never have quite the same way again. You hide under sweatpants and cords and snack on ice cream. You feel like you will never heal. But then Mom comes around with boxes for Goodwill, and in go the jeans. You are finally over them. Soon you go shopping again and spot a super cute pair, and are reminded sadly of your first real love. But you try them on, and they look good – not as good as your first pair, but they give you that feeling of confidence again. And you move on.

Tue, 19 Apr 2005 20:07:47 GMT

hello!!!

we have a pope, for those who care. and i for one am excited!!!

hahaha. it works.

that is all. comment if you please.

please read this.... it might help you understand

Tue, 19 Apr 2005 11:53:45 GMT

Ode to the Nice Girls
This rant was written because a nice girl finally snapped.

I've read the tribute to the nice guys; this is my response.

This is my tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong. This is for the girls who don't give it up on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times. This is for the girls who understand that they aren't perfect and that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time he'll have understood. This is an homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don't deserve their attention. This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fuck up the guys in their lives without saying a word. This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds." This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.

This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced. This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn't care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed. This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt. This is for the girls who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.

This one's for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won't because it's easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with. This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone. This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you've returned home alone, for the nights when you've seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he's with to be a random hookup. This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship: it was that he didn't want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.

This is for the "I really like you, so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you've received from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear. This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we've believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we'd have ever wanted. This is for the girls who have been satisified with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.

This is what I don't understand. Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don't appreciate them and don't want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mindgames, that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet, men, I ask you: were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call... and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the "stalker chick" you'd met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this "nice girl" who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you're not looking for a nice girl. You're not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intermural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you're looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.

So don't say you're on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won't answer your catcalls, sometimes you're looking at a nice girl in whore's clothing - - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we're all thinking the same thing: "This isn't me. Tomorrow morning, I'll be wearing a teeshirt and flannel shorts, I'll have slept alone and I'll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me." You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don't want the nice girl.. so don't say you're looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we're willing to extend - - but in return, we're looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they're running they're chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets... the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congradulatory hug (and yes, if she's a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won't matter), hoping against hope that maybe you'll realize that they're the ones that you want at the end of that silly race.

So maybe it won't last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we're waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what's a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)

^^took that from cathryn b/c it is so true and it explains alot.

uuuhhhmmm.... dont feel like a real update, so you may as well read ^. merci beaucoup. shit. i have a french test today. shit.

[.june.][.first.]

<3me

Mon, 18 Apr 2005 18:52:41 GMT

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