I Hurt.

I am so, so, so, so sore. Hurts to walk and such. I worked 4 to 10 on Friday and 8 to 5 yesterday, and I don't think I'm ever going to recover.

They had me working all over the place. First bakery [because we don't serve regular food at opening], then cafe register, then back to bakery. I worked most of my time in bakery, obviously, and though that is one of the coolest places to be, I was still VERY ready to go home by three pm.

Doesn't help that I'm still sick. My voice is back [well, right now it's my "morning voice" and it's all scratchy and gross] but I'm absolutely dragging. Steroids are helping tremendously...not resting is not.

I'm still not supposed to abuse my voice, and guess what I did all day yesterday? If I can't talk again next week, I will be royally and furiously angry.

Oh, and I'm ridiculously melodramatic when I'm sick, so expect these posts to be that way. Can't help it--I can't sleep right now, and it's making me cranky. Very cranky.

Argh. I'll post sometime later this week. I won't have time tomorrow, I'm working four to ten...shoot me in the foot...

"Fake it like you matter--that's a lie we can both keep."

FOB, Sending Postcards From a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here). Love that song.

I've noticed that people are a bit self-righteous. Have you noticed that?

Makes me laugh a little. So what if you're better than me at something? Get over it. I could kick yours in something else. In quite a few things, actually.

So what if you finally beat me at my own game? Doesn't mean I have to acknowledge it. Doesn't mean you have to rub it in every single day.

And so what if you finally shattered me, broke me down, reduced me to nothing in others' eyes?

Doesn't mean I deserve to hear you say those nasty things about me. You don't even let me turn around so you can do the talking behind my back...

So get over yourself. Fake it like you matter, and maybe I won't smear your name to the people who do. Because despite the fact that you think they won't believe me, I'm pretty sure they would.

So what? :]

Silence, Fool!

Oh, funny story. I haven't had a voice since Monday.

Laryngitis, much? I sound like a chain smoker. Ridiculous.

Today I gained back some volume, but it lasted only until about the middle of fifth hour. From there on out, it's been nothingness coming out of my mouth.

I just tried to sing along to my playlist [I listen to it when I'm on my laptop... Tongue Tied was playing lol] and I quite literally cannot make singing noises. Not that my singing was anything wonderful to begin with, but now it's just strained silence.

Funny, isn't it? I've spent the past few days screaming to be heard in a whisper. And I've spent the majority of my life always having something to say.

Sucks a bit. I lie... Sucks majorly.

Michigandering [Yes, It's a Verb.]

I read this article just now about some personality profile done to analyze the fifty states. Quite comical, actually.

My home state, however, was not mentioned. I'm wondering how Michigan came out...

My best guess? Michiganders are just plain tough. We deal with a freezing winter, a sweltering summer, endless downpours in spring, and rapid daylight loss in fall. Our economy has gone to hell and ALL of our highways suck. Construction is a constant hassle and road rage a second nature. We call our soda "pop" and get made fun of for it. Oh, and the mayor of our most well-known city is in jail right now with a few felonies under his belt...and our news stations won't shut up about it.

If I had to pick another trait, I would go with proud. Despite all the crap we put up with, we brag incessantly. We have amazingly beautiful trees in autumn, a history that few other states could understand, and universities that can't be rivaled. Everywhere you go, there's a lake and a shore you can enjoy, and damn it, we've got two peninsulas. What other state has yoopers and trolls?

So we're arrogant fighters to the core. We can insult our state, but don't you dare try it, or we'll throw down so hard you'll be in Texas by next Tuesday.

And you don't want to be all the way down there, do you?

Damnsel in Distress

Note the "n" there. Ha, ha. Irony. Sounds like "damn," get it?

Anyway.

I fall down. A lot. More than the average human should. I run into stationary objects, I collide with moving objects, I fall up and down stairs, I forget how to walk sometimes, and I take corners too sharply...and smack the entire side of my body on the door frame.

So I'm not exactly graceful, you might say. In fact, I'm the antithesis to any graceful action. I am the equal and opposite reaction that Newton warned us about. The clumsy little thing your mother warned you about.

But I would not call myself a "damsel in distress." See, the whole "in distress" part seems to imply that the damsel is not always in such a state. She doesn't usually trip over that crack in the sidewalk, only every now and then.

I trip over it every time. And I'm really no damsel--that implies elegance, and a certain desire to be saved from a tall tower by a handsomely ignorant prince.

Not a damsel. Just perpetually distressed.

Happy Things

I don't really want the world to think I see the glass as perpetually half-empty, so let's fill this blog halfway up with happy things. :]

First and foremost, my new profile image. It's me and my youngest cousin [youngest out of ALL of them, mind you!], whom we shall call D-Van on here. He's absolutely adorable, and I love that picture of the two of us.

Second, cider mills. Went to one today with my family and our neighbors, who also happen to have two adorable children. The oldest just learned her address and likes to recite it randomly--she's a very good little girl--and her brother laughs at everything.

Third, Panera babies. I saw the cutest little kids on Friday at work. Twins, a boy and a girl, less than a year old, curled up together in their stroller. One of the purest, nicest, most beautiful things I've ever seen in my whole life. Of course, they had those piercing eyes, the kind that see straight through to your soul and make your heart melt.

Of course, there are happy things that don't involve children, too. Like movies that came out when I was little that are now free with OnDemand. Or books I haven't read in years winding up next to my bed because I finally dusted them off.

Or taking a nap on a backyard swing, drifting in and out while writing a journal entry to my sister in our sacred NoteBook.

Like I said, happy things. My glass isn't half-empty. It just has to be refilled every now and then.

Lesson #24: Stupid, Stupid, Stupid.

I ate a bunch of almonds today while I was at the cider mill.

I'm allergic to almonds.

I feel not so great and my face is numb.

I'm very, very, very stupid.

Is this even possible?

I didn't know it could happen. I didn't realize that I could feel an emotion this deep.

I never knew anyone could do what you've done and get away with it.

I'm your doormat. Your stepladder. Your last resort. You see only what you can get from me and nothing more. You think I can withstand anything you throw at me. You think I'm tough enough to handle rejection and exclusion without shedding a tear.

I'm nothing but an accessory with a functioning mind.

And I'm about done with it all.

Ten Degrees of Awful

I feel like terribleness, all rolled up in misery.

What a great way to spend my first free weekend.

Apple orchard today with Kailey, possibly concert tonight for Disko's [my somewhat younger--but much taller--brother] band, and then enough homework to keep me busy ALL day tomorrow.

I will have fun, definitely. But I won't be feeling nicely. :/

Oh, Shut the Front Door.

Thanks, Cass, for that lovely phrase. That's what big sisters are for--to teach the little ones alternative methods of expressing rage. :]

I refuse to speak of school in this post, so don't worry about that. Nothing could prompt me to talk about that infernal place.

Here's my newest dealio:

College mail.

If I get one more letter from Grinnell College [whatever the hell that is] I'm going to light my shoes on fire.

If Evansville, Hope, Knox, Calvin, Eastern, Western, Lake Superior State, Renesselaur, Johns Hopkins, Yale, and the millions of others really think I'm interested in them, wouldn't they have to have some sort of evidence of that interest? A survey I took where I mentioned them, or a phone call? Or anything?

They have nothing. I've never even heard of most of these schools. I have no interest in them whatsoever.

In the past three days, I've gotten so much college mail that the mail barely fits inside the mailbox. I get more letters than the rest of my family combined.

My sisters are totally bogged, too, so much so that I'm considering having a bonfire this weekend just to dispose of some of it. My house is full of this crap.

Disgusting. If I wanted you, I would say so. So go away.

Please.

"They Speak in Clever Tongues..."

There were days that I loved you, days that I hated you, hours that I needed you more than oxygen, hours that I needed you like a brain aneurysm, minutes that passed slowly in your absence, minutes that passed slowly in your presence, seconds that felt too sweet to last, seconds that felt too bitter to last.

We were all going to go to heaven when we were done.

We were all going to go straight to hell when it was over.

There were weeks when the days blurred, the hours melted, the minutes spun, and the seconds sped. There were times when I felt I could not love, hate, need, or feel anymore.

We were heading down a path I couldn't wait to travel.

We were heading down a road that no man could ever traverse.

There was time. There was none. There were people. There was no one. There were words. There was silence.

And in the thick of it all, there was me. And you.

Round Trip, Much?

So today I had the pleasure of filling out an informational form that my school gave to each of us in the top ten [of the class rankings]. It was kind of comical, actually.

Scholarships? None...yet. Special awards? Umm. Yeah.

And then, my favorite question: Something unique about myself.

Lol. If only they knew.

Anyway... Maddy and I were watching Ghost Hunters tonight [while "doing English"] and it definitely got me thinking. See, I'm not afraid of death. If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, and I'll just keep saying it because it's true.

I'm not afraid to die. Pain? Well, I don't exactly look forward to that, really, but since I fall down so much anyway it shouldn't be anything shocking...

But along the same lines, I'm not afraid of the dead, either. If a ghost was to be sitting next to me right now, I would honestly be okay with that. Sure, I'm not about to go wandering around a creepy house at night, but I think it's more the living creepies that prevent me from doing so.

The dead, I've come to believe, are quite a bit nicer than the living, and actually have a purpose. Most of us just wander around aimlessly; they're here for a reason, and for that reason specifically.

And since I've done nothing to hurt them, they have no reason to hurt me. I respect them. I do my best to understand them, though that's mildly impossible.

Are the dead among us? Hell, yes. Open your eyes. I'm not talking about orbs and EMFs and poltergeists [lol "I will be your personal poltergeist"...from Stardust]. I'm talking about souls.

I have to believe they're here. Because if they weren't, I wouldn't be able to feel things the way I do. If souls weren't immortal, I wouldn't be able to perceive emotions like this--with that everlasting color imprint left on my mental eye. I feel it often in places where visible humans aren't standing...

They're nowhere and everywhere. I feel it. And though I've always told myself to trust fact over feeling, this time, they're the same thing.

Because the fact feels completely right.

I'll Turn Around So You Can Talk

Whirl me around, words like ice
I've forgotten how it felt to be
So arctic, so cold
Such an ancient misunderstanding

Your personality speaks quite loud,
Thanks
I can hear you across the quiet room
Leave it alone, let the topic fall

Awkward is my middle name
Well, sort of.

Vague probably fits better.
This is a mess, a tragedy
Except we don't get to finish it
I'm calling you out

Leave it, me, all of it alone
I'm over this
Or at least, I will be
Very quickly and with a smile.

Habitual Idiocy

I have this really bad tendency to pick the guys that are worst for me. It's just what I do. And I can never figure out why I'm so stupid.

I don't love them. The thought of ever loving one of them makes me laugh out loud. I just decide that they might deserve my attention, and then they let me down by being absolutely ridiculous.

I'm an idiot. :[

Oh, well. Off to school. Off to learn things I don't want to know and to see things I couldn't care less to see. Then to work, to earn a paycheck that will pay for me to go to more school...to learn more...

Oh, well.

Lesson #23

There will always be individuals in this world who are too concerned about themselves to really care about you.

We call them humans.

Must [Not] Love Dogs

Another season, another stupid dog show for DI fundraising. Today I stood in the rain and watched a bunch of crazy people run their dogs around a course.

Water ran down my coat and onto my jeans, through my hood and down my face, and through all three layers of clothing I was wearing. I have been home for about twenty minutes [after the twenty minute car ride] and my hands are still shaking from the cold.

I don't know how long it will take me to warm up, but it'll be awhile. And I can already feel myself getting sick.

Oh, the joys of DI. If it didn't completely own my life, I wouldn't be willing to do these kinds of things.

Well, maybe I would, I suppose, if it was sunny...

If I Could Explain

There's something in the way your eyes
Can pierce right through my truths and lies
Your innate calm is frightening, so
I'm trying hard to keep control

There's something that you wouldn't guess
A secret I must keep suppressed
It's loathsome, somehow justified
And to tell you, I have tried

There's something in the way I break
That spreads the fear across your face
You think I may not see it, but
I feel how hard the terror's struck

There's something in my choking fear
I watch your eyes, hiding small tears
To see me cry would make you pause
And I would see the hurt I'd caused

There's something in my shaking hands
I see you want to make demands
You want my promise to relent
I want your word you won't forget

There's something in the way your eyes
Can pierce right through my truths and lies
Your innate calm is frightening, so
I'm trying hard to keep control...

No Homework?!?! :O [gasp]

For the first time since school started, I have zero homework for tonight. Or as my physics buddies Anakin and RoyGBrown say, "nay homework."

THAT MAKES ME RIDICULOUSLY HAPPY. :D

So right now I'm waiting for my loaf of bread to rise and listening to some Secondhand Serenade, at my mother's request. Right now she's poking me in the side and making me jump.

Yes, I baked a loaf of bread. Are you really shocked? I've done everything except bread from scratch, and I figured now would be a good time. I have zero plans for tonight...zero homework...zero desire to do anything except bake bread and maybe go for a long walk with my little sister...

Hmm. That actually sounds really good. I think I'll quit blogging, eat dinner, and then summon Kailey. I'll try Pinksie, too, but she probably has to work tonight. I'll ask Maddy too...

I love having five sisters. Makes life more like an adventure and less of a chore. :]

Law & Triscuits

I'm only human. And unfortunately, like any other human, I have my addictions.

The newest: Law & Order with a box of Triscuits.

Is that normal? I don't think so. I finally got out of my hummus phase around mid-August, so now I've moved on to just Triscuits. They really do taste better with a good L&O rerun, too...

So the past two days--which have sucked more than school days usually suck--I have spent a good hour and a half laying on the couch in my family room munching on Triscuits and occasionally falling asleep.

It's sort of...nice. I don't have to think. I don't even have to stay conscious, if I so choose. I can just sit there and stare blankly at a pretty talking TV and throw a cracker into my mouth every few minutes.

Oh, humans. So impulsive. So weird. Well, I am, anyway.

Maniacal Insomniac...al?

Another night, lying awake when I should be asleep. Do you think it's even possible for me to get the recommended eight hours on a week night?

Ha. That's a little funny.

I do everything I can. I try music. I try books. I try boring books. I try counting things. I try counting in Spanish. I try speaking Spanish to myself. I take the vitamin my doctor raved about, and do you think it actually makes me sleep?

Not right now, it doesn't. Want to know why? I'll tell you anyway.

I. Am. Stressed. Out.

To the breaking point. Nerves like live wires. Feeling like the victim of an incredibly intense round of jeopardy [I HATE that show].

I want to sleep. I want to dream. Well, that's a maybe, considering the whole end-with-my-own-demise thing, but even that's getting to be the norm...

I want to be unconscious for at least seven hours in order to put my life back in line.

This weekend, I work Friday four to ten; Saturday I work the infamous DI dog show fundraiser from 7 [that's AM, folks] until I have to go to my real work from four to ten; Sunday I'm back at the dog show until/unless I have to do killer amounts of homework [which already seems like a huge possibility, and it's only Monday]; and then Monday, after being busy all freaking weekend, I have to go to school and then work again from four to ten. Then homework, and then Tuesday...

Mehh. I want summer back. Or graduation, one of the two.

Right now. Before I lose it.

El Primer Día [Y Otras Cosas, También]

Ah. First day of school. Well, yesterday.

Decent schedule, I suppose. Maybe. My two elective hours essentially suck, but the other classes seem worthwhile.

My schedule follows as such: AP English, AP Physics, AP Calc, Med/Health, AP Spanish, Physiology.

Maddy and I are the only girls in AP Physics. Embarrassing.

AP English and AP Calc are exactly as demanding I expected them to be.

Med/Health and physiology are exactly as ridiculous as I expected them to be.

AP Spanish is stimulating and very interesting. Señora only speaks Spanish now, absolutely no English, and I'm pleasantly surprised to find that I can understand everything she says without having to translate in my head.

Overall? I've had two very, very, very long days. Mentally and physically exhausting.

Cassie and Kailey are on the mend. I miss them, and Pinks, too. And Maddy. And Lyrika. And Debbie...

And I'm going to bed soon. My eyes won't stay open.

Goodnight.

There is no title that correctly fits the emotion of this post.

Cassie and Kailey were in a rollover car accident on Sunday night.

They're both okay--if by "okay" I mean covered in bruises and cuts, but alive. I saw them both today, much to my relief, and got a firsthand account of what went down. They've each picked their favorite battle wound...

Cassie's new [new for her] car was totalled. We had christened him Emmett--same as the massively strong vampire in Twilight--and it only seems fitting that he would indeed be "badass to the end," as Cassie put it. The car saved both their lives, and in doing so, took a severe beating.

Cassie, the driver, was not at fault, and no one else was hurt. An enormous SUV was driving toward them on a tight dirt road, riding the middle as if it owned the street. Cassie swerved to avoid a head-on collision, and her car went tumbling off the bank on the edge of the shoulder. It was a purely accidental accident.

The other car kept going.

As I said, they're both okay. Wonderful people stopped to help them, and Cassie was somehow strong enough to hold herself together while Kailey fell apart. Together they dealt with the trauma that followed, showing a kind of bravery I feel I must commend.

Both are struggling through the physical damage [so, so sore] and doing their best to cope with the emotional aftermath. I am doing everything in my power to take care of them, as are their relieved families. They will be okay, even though it will be rough for awhile. :[

I am eternally thankful that my sisters are alive. It is downright miraculous that I was able to see them, hug them, hear their voices today... Life without them would never be worth living, and I will always remember to appreciate each day I have in their company.

I love you so much, guys. So much that I can't even put it in words. I've never felt so terrified in my whole life as when Cassie called to tell me what had happened. Remember that I will always love you, no matter what, and that life is too fragile to waste.

That's the part about this that is the hardest, knowing that two lives could have ended so quickly. They were so close... It frightens me beyond words.

I love you, and I'm so happy--is that a strong enough word?--that I get to keep you. Forever.