How To Get Out of My Carefully Constructed Cage

I'm back...who knows for how long. This time I'm posting because I'm in a...well for lack of a better stereotype and word...emo mood. I've thought about a lot within the last few months and I've never let it out. It's like it's all on repeat in my read, like thoughts embedded within my mind that I can't erase no matter how many times I try to act like I'm okay. It's so sad that I can act like a happy girl around my family and be so incredibly good at it, that it completely surpasses my whole families radar. Especially my mom's since she knows me so well.

I feel like Alice in Wonderland. Except I'm Amber in EverLost-Land. I feel like I fell into this big, black hole expect it's all in my mind and I can't escape by defeating the Red Queen of Hearts. I don't think I've ever used a Disney analogy before. I could definitely make a Peter Pan analogy but it would be a dark, dismal, sad one and I like Peter Pan too much to do that right now.

Lost. That's such a word to describe my state of mind right now. Mess, too. I'm a lost mess. I used to love school, loved to learn and in a way I still do. I'm taking community college classes online full-time right now. And I hate it. I like the prospect of learning what I'm taking, but I'd rather just read the textbooks then take the class. And I always loved my grade school/high school teachers. I'm taking Criminology, Into to Global Security and Information, Computer and Security. They are all eight weeks long and then I start Forensic Science. All these classes are what I've looked forward to since I was 13 and decided to give up on my dream of becoming an actress and go with the reality of becoming a Special Agent in the FBI and working my way into the Behavioral Science Unit.

I love analyzing people and picking apart the way their minds work and why they do what they do, say what the say, think what they think. I gained that interest and love from watching movies and television. When I first saw Pirates of the Caribbean I was enraptured with the way the actors and actresses could make me smile, laugh and cry; how they could make me feel happy, sad, betrayed, scared, confused, excited and adventurous. I wanted to be able to do that for people too. I wanted to be able to give people an outlet from reality and fall in love with another world of fantastical, motivating, wonderful plots and stories. I still do...and I don't know what to do with the struggle of dreaming to be an actress and writer and learning to be in law enforcement. Both careers are all about human behavior, but instead of portraying it like I dream to, I have to settle for perusing certain (criminal) behaviors.

When you live in a little town in Arizona (a place of no opportunities) it's nearly impossible to become anything other than what I am now...A gas station clerk..no no, an injured gas station clerk, that's just going to a community college that are a dime a dozen. I'd love to live in California or Florida where I could get out of the small town life. I don't have natural motivation and I'm so reserved that it's difficult to get out of the carefully constructed cage I've tricked myself into.

Like I said...I'm a lost mess and I don't know how to dig myself out. I hate the self-pitying and self-destructive and self-hatred I've locked myself into. If only, I just knew how to start unlocking myself from it all.

For Better or For Worse?

Who knew that in a week your life could shift and mold into something else?

I did. Only I didn't dare hope for this. I didn't dare dream. I'm moving back to my hometown, the place I loved and hated the most. I love it because my family and friends are there, but I hate it because my ex-step dad is there. Now, I'm moving back. Well my mom is moving back now as I type, so that means when I fly back home from Oregon I'll be going to a new home. And I'm so ecstatic.


To make these even better, my little brother is moving in with my Mom and I and getting out of my ex-step dad's place. Now, I know it's possible I'll see him every now and then but I can handle that. I got my stun gun....Nah, although I do, I mean that I can emotionally and mentally handle that because I know that things are coming together like this for a reason.


And what I mean by that is....I'm going back to school! It's different than regular high school, it's a program where I'll be able to get all the credits I need in order to graduate in about a year and a half! Oh and I don't have to go in until 10 am. How awesome is that? But I'm scared, nervous and excited. I'm not sure why I feel all that. But I just feel like this is the right thing to do.

I don't know exactly what this program entails but I'm ready to do this. I'm ready to change and become a better person. I know this won't be easy for me but I know I can do it. I can just feel it you know? It's that gut feeling. As illogical that is I can feel the power of it at full force.


Besides that, I'm hoping that I can lose 30 pounds before August. That way when I go back to school I feel confident about myself a bit more. And then maybe in two months I can lose 20 pounds. I'll have money to go to the gym for a few months so that could help and I want to take self-defense classes.


So basically I have some high goals for myself. But I'm going to need the help and support of gym family and friends. I can't do this alone. I'm going to want to give up, I'm going to bitch and moan. But I can do it with some help. 


I am slowly believing in myself again.


So. "For Better" for sure.

The Ghost In My Past That Changed Me

 

I'm scared.

My heart is pounding. It's pounding so hard, so fast.

It's not because of anger, happiness, love. It's made of fear and relief. An odd combination, is it not?

I've only felt this three other times, over the same thing. And once more after that. And this time I'm not sure to be relieved altogether, or scared out of my mind. I'm not scared for myself. It's a fear for my Mother and little brother.

I found out a secret that changed a part of myself 7 years ago. I found out that the man I called my father was not my biological father at all. My mother told me about my Dad, Charles Ellis. And I immediately tried to find him...That' another story for another time though.

When I was 13 the man my Mother was married do did something to me that still haunts me. That still brings fear into my heart every time I see him, hear him, think of him.

Almost 5 years ago, my stepfather sexually abused me.

I was almost 14 the first time it happened. I'd gone to bed, but couldn't sleep. He came into my bedroom, called out my name to see if I was awake. I was but I didn't answer. Ealier that night he had snuck up behind me and scared me. I wanted to do the same.

I thought he was going to walk out of my room after he called my name out. I was planing to get out slowly and silently wand walk into the living room where he usually was at my bedtime in he's recliner, watching TV. The recliner always was behind my room, so I knew he wouldn't see me. I planned it so perfectly to scare the hell out of him.

This, did not happen.

He closed my door and I thought he had gone out, until I felt him sit down on my bed. SO I decided to stay quite and wait till he went out so I could get back to my plan.

But he started rubbing my legs from under my sweat pants. And it felt so good, I had restless leg syndrome. I stayed quite, and was almost asleep when I felt him go higher up my legs, and I was confused.

He touched me then. Where no man should tough, unless with permission. I definitely did not give him, nor ever would I have given him, permission. I was scared. I didn't make a sound, I could barely breath. I couldn't move, couldn't scream. I was frozen, in time, in body, in heart, in mind.

He used his fingers to take my virginity. He left soon after. He didn't rape me, just sexually abused me with his fingers.

I didn't even cry. I don't even remember when I feel asleep. I just remember waking up, going to the bathroom only to see blood where I didn't expect it to be. Then I remembered last night. I was just glad that he was already at work that morning.

I didn't tell anyone, Not even my mom. I was too scared that he was hurt my mom and brother.

A few weeks later, he did it again. Except he also used a muscle massager or something. Again, I didn't cry.

A few days after that my English class watched a movie "Speak." Kristian Stewart played in it. The next day told my best friend, she said tell someone. I went to my English teacher cause she was so kind and I was comfortable with her. I told her I had a dream of him hurting me, I told her I wanted and needed to speak with my mom. The teacher called her for me and I told her in the car while my teacher went to the principle and she called CPS.

I told my mom it was just a dream but that I was scared. She told my step dad to come home once I told her the truth. He denied it. Over and over.

CPS called us. The want to interview my mom, him and I. I saw what the strain was doing to my mom, and even my brother saw it though he didn't know. I knew that my mom would struggle if he went to jail, she didn't have a job at the time.

I told my mom I wanted to lie to CPS and leave this all be. SO we all did. We came up with a story, though I can't remember. We tried to tell the CPS lady that it was a basic misunderstanding. It worked.

I continued at school. But I had changed almost everyone saw it. I was once happy and outgoing and kind and brace and I easily spoke about my feelings. I'm not that person anymore.

He didn't do it again. My mom decided to separate from him. My mom and I moved away to another town so that we could still see my brother, since he wanted to stay with his dad, my step dad. My brother didn't know what happened and didn't want to leave his friends.

On the day that my mom and I left, my step dad did it again when my mom and brother were at storage getting some things out of there, we had just sold the house and put our stuff in a storage.

I had been assured and confident he wouldn't again since the last time was in May, and it was August 6th. I thought that the time frame meant he realized what he did wrong and wouldn't do it again. I was so wrong. He did it again, the same way. He stopped when he heard the door open.

I told my mom and she hurried us out.

I still see him because of my brother. Fear strikes me every single time I see him, think of him and hear him.

The reason I write this is because I hope it lifts some weight off my shoulder and mind.

My mom told me today that she told my soon to be ex step dad that I can't stand him, that I can't stand being near him cause he molested me, to not contact me, and that I only stand being around him for my brother's sake.

I'm scared cause I don't know how he reacted, if he'll react badly or if he reacts so badly that he hurts someone.

What happened to me is definitely not as bad as what happens to other girls and woman, I know this. But it still hurts and haunts me. And has changed me.

I'm okay with what has changed because while I am not happy or outgoing, I am cautious and analytical and no longer naive.

I don't trust people easily, my family and best friends are the ones I only trust. It now as to be earned. Not just given.

There's more around my past but this is the basics.

Infidelity: Physical and Emotional

There's a blog that I read daily. I like his style, I like his honesty. I didn't even know who the hell he was, I'd never heard of him before but I was introduced by him by a tweet from one of my Twitter friends. And I became hooked.

Granted, I don't share some of his beliefs one certain things, people, music, places etc. But he's talented at getting his point through. His name is Shane Powers. If you'd like to read his blog here's the link http://www.shanepowers.com/

One of his resent posts got me thinking about what I believe on the subject. Cheating. Here's his thoughts on it and some interesting comment's by his readers. http://www.shanepowers.com/2010/02/cheating.html I highly recommend reading it.

I posted a comment of my own and instead of rewriting it, I'll just copy and paste for you my exact words.

"I believe that cheating shouldn't happen either way. If you want to get physical without emotion- One night stand, but not while you're already in a relationship that includes sex and emotion, not even when it's just a sexual fling with one person that will be for a short period of time.

If your in a relationship, but it's too early for sex for one parter and not the other- WAIT for the sex, don't go looking for a one night stand that'll have your head filled with your one night stand partner while you're with the person your in a relationship.

I believe being in a relationship should include it all, emotion, sex, communication, etc.

I am, by no means, traditional. I believe in getting pleasure when you can but being cautious about it, as much as you possibly can. I don't mean one night stand every night, that's just stupid and eventually you're appetite and stamina and time for sex is going to suck. It's always more pleasurable to have sex when your hot and anticipating after waiting for awhile.

If your not into commitment, don't go into a relationship with a person who is, only to emotionally abuse them- Because that is what that is. Find someone who wants a short fling as much as you do.

I could write more, but I'd rather not make a whole blog about it in a bloody comment.

Much Peace and Magic,

Amber ♥"

As you can see I wrote quite a bit on the subject already. But there is something that I did not touch on. "Emotional infidelity." I do not believe in such a thing. Maybe that's because I already don't show my emotions or express them very often in any manner. I don't believe in expressing emotions only to have them used against you, I've had that happen. And even before it happened I didn't express my emotions anyways.

If you're an emotional person and you get hurt when your romantic and/or sexual partner expressed their emotions to anyone but you- I think it's ridiculous. Now I can understand being hurt about it when your married or engaged to be married. But when it's just a fling, long relationship (up to a year), or a friendship, it's absolute rubbish to me if you get hurt.

I am not, and read this clearly, calling anyone who does get hurt when this happens, an emotional idiot with no right to get hurt. I am simply not that kind of person, so far. Everyone is different. I am simply saying that I think it's wrong to feel hurt when your not sure if your relationship is going to last. Emotion is a highly personal and intimate idea. And sharing them can leave you vulnerable and leaving yourself vulnerable to a single person is something I view as compromising and confusing.

Unless it's with someone you trust 100% which to me, is absolutely amazing. Unless it's family or a friend that you've known long enough to know you can trust them 100%. I have a couple of those kinds of friends. And still, I don't nearly express my emotions to them, as much as I probably should.

These are my opinions. I'd love to hear yours.

Simple As That

Someone told me a few days ago that I'm so confident. I mentally scoffed. The same person told me I was pretty, I told them "I'm not, but thank you."

I've looked in the mirror naked for 2 minutes. Every day. I walk away from it as fast as I could because I was so disgusted and put off and saddened by what I saw. Me. I saw me as a fat girl, with crooked teeth and an acne embraced face.

I've become self loathing.

And it kills me inside.

I think about this every night. I think about how terrible I look. And I cry. I tell no one. Not even my mom or Nan or best friends.

I understand that no one is perfect. I understand everyone has flaws. I know that the girls on TV, magazines, and the like have body flaws too and that they're just covered up better than most girls. I honestly do. I know that looks should not be everything. And I know they aren't.

So here's the "but"... I have nothing to be confident about. Not one thing. I have no talents, though some say I do. I don't have an absorbent memory. I don't have a healthy, athletic or thin body. I don't have clear skin. I don't have straight teeth. I don't have any natural beauty. Hell, I don't have any courage. I don't have anything to be confident about.

And I'm saying this to a cyber world of strangers who probably think I'm nothing but a teenage whiner on a "Woe is me" fest.

But I know I'm not. I just....I can no longer keep this inside of my, eating at me. I'm beginning to hate myself and that scares me.

I'm 180 pounds of fat.

I'm a teenage scary cat with no social life.

I'm a talentless nobody.

I'm a lost, lonely and self-loathing girl.

You tell me different and I won't believe you.

Simple as that.

Absolute Truth: The Lie Within Myself

Years. Months. Weeks. Days. Hours. Minutes. Seconds....They all pass by so fast sometimes. It's hard to catch up to life. And when I do, I don't ride life. I let it ride me. For weeks I've been pondering about how to write this post, and about how I would handle officially posting it. Because this blog post of mine won't be like my others. This one will not be censored by anything. It will not be about anything but myself, how I feel, what I fear, who I am....nothing but me. And if that interests you, then I'm surprised. If not, you can imagine I'm not surprised.

On Twitter I am known as Gypsyladyamber, just as I am here. On Twitter people say I am confident, funny, outgoing, and positive with a zest for life. They also think I'm older than I am apparently. Which is a a very good compliment considering a lot of people my age seems complete dunderheads. And some think I'm British. I've ignored that. I figured the mystery of not knowing my age, or what Nationality I am, would keep my followers interested because I'm already not interesting.

In order for me to be completely truthful in this post I do have to let the mystery fade and brake. So here it is. I am 17 years old, I live in America and am not British. My name is Amber and I live with my mother. My father just died in October, I only just started to know him because I only just found him in Febuary of 2009 and I didn't even get to meet him. We only got to talk by e-mails and phone. I had a step-father to the age of 14 and unfortunatly he is still in my life and I fear, will always be in my life. I have no job and I am studying for my GED that i hope to take sometime next year when I feel I'm ready. And while I consider myself to be a Gypsy I do not consider myself any of the things that my Twitter followers and Twitter friends consider me. Not even what my own family and friends consider me.

I am weak. I am a coward. I am fearful. I am a lie within myself. I try so hard to portray a confident young female who knows where she is going and knows what she wants. But I am not. But apparently I can fool people.

And I'm scared. I'm scared down to my bones because I am scared of things that it seems no one else around me is afraid of. For instance, I am afraid to drive. I'm fine in a car if someone else is driving but the idea of myself being behind the wheel and controlling it is damn frightening to me. I don't believe I'd be a good and well-rounded driver. I don't think I can handle it.

And even when someone else is driving I get these scenarios in my head of what could happen, and it's always more than one scenario. So the idea of being behind the wheel as my mind goes through those scenarios detail by agonizing and scary detail is torture and terrifying for me. I've driven my mom's old car before, three times and each time my heart varied between stopping and thumping at a speed that's probably not healthy. That was months ago. I haven't gotten behind the wheel after that, and each time my mom asks, I say no.

I had a job at K-Mart last year. I lasted 3 months and loved what I did most of the time. Maybe that's because I worked in the shoe department and that's a complete girl thing. At the time K-Mart wasn't in control of the shoe department, it was another company that just signed a lease with K-Mart to sell under their store name. So I didn't have to use a cash register, which relieved me more than you can imagine. I didn't have to do anything but organize the shoes, which trust me, wasn't as easy as it sounds, and I had to help customers find the shoe they wanted, the size and such. And I'm pretty horrible with communication but it helped that problem a bit, not that it does much good for me now cause I'm back into my old distant ways.

I lost my job on the last day of my, what they called, 3 month training. Because after 3 months you have to file 3 warnings in order to be fired, if you've been working for less than 3 months than you can get fired off the spot, no warning required. That's what happened to me. My supervisor told her boss that I wasn't fast enough with my job, that I didn't work and that she caught me with my cell phone out once. The first reason was only partially true, I had my slow days and had my fast. The second wasn't true at all because I'd forget to take my lunch until my shift was almost over already. The third reason was true because that one time was an emergency.

I almost pointed out to my supervisor that she had her cell phone out twice in front of me, once to call her daughter and tell her a song that she loved was on when we weren't on break. And the second to text someone. I didn't point it out though, I was too crushed to speak. My mother spoke for me because she too worked at K-Mart at the time.

Losing my job just made me feel like a failure, it still does because I enjoyed what I did because it was perfect for me. I hate cash registers because I know that if I use one I'll screw up the entire purchase of a customer each time and they seem to complex to figure out for me. I'm not saying I'm stupid because I know I'm not. Deep down I know I'm not. But I feel like I am sometimes because I do know that I couldn't work a cash register correctly, when thousands of people my age can. So I haven't gotten a job because I'm afraid to fail, which in turn makes me already a failure. Even I know that because it's only logical. Yet I can't find the strength to go out there and try, I can't find the courage.

I am a coward. I am a failure. I am weak. And I am scared. I'm talentless, dreamless, hopeless....I wish I could add fearless to that less list but I can not. I'm sitting here already scared because I'm finally putting these words down on my screen. I'm finally making the words that were only thoughts before official. And it scares me to my core.

I don't know where I am going, I don't know what I want to do, and I don't know where I can go with my life. It seems like such a waste, my life. But I stay for several reasons. My mother, my brothers, my family, my new found family, my friends and to endure every second of my life because I believe I should.

I probably sound whiny. Maybe I am. But I promised nothing but absolute truth in this post. And absolute truth is what my readers will get from now on. So continue to read if you like, if you want to read the ramblings and thoughts and opinions of a talentless failure that calls herself a Gypsy Lady.

"The greatest enemy of any one of our truths may be the rest of our truths." ~William James

"Truth is no Doctoresse, she takes no degrees at Paris or Oxford... but oftentimes to such an one as myself, an Idiota or common person, no great things, melancholizing in woods where waters are, quiet places by rivers, fountains, whereas the silly man expecting no such matter, thinketh only how best to delectate and refresh his mynde continually with Natura her pleasaunt scenes, woods, water-falls, or Art her statelie gardens, parks, terraces, Belvideres, on a sudden the goddesse herself Truth has appeared, with a shyning lyghte, and a sparklyng countenance, so as yee may not be able lightly to resist her." ~Charles Lamb

Fire In The Family

November 19, 2009



I'm sitting here thinking- What the hell do I write? I've had no inspiration to write in my blog lately. Except for the Twilight rant yesterday. Things have just been a blur the last few weeks. I'm going to my Aunt and Uncle's house tomorrow and can't wait. My Uncle Larry isn't exactly legal Uncle just yet, he will be once he marries my Aunt but I've known him since the 3rd grade, longer than my whole family has known him. So he's like an Uncle. My brother lives with my Aunt and Uncle because he's legally my Aunt's son but my Mom's biological son. My Aunt adopted him when he was little because my Mom needed help. It was weird when I first found out at 14 years old but it's worked out. He still calls my Aunt his Mom and my Mom his Aunt. People think it's weird. My best friend thinks I have a "Dr. Phil" life because of everything that happens t me. I just call it life's huge surprises.

Anyways, I love my Uncle Larry. He's one of the only people I'd trust with my life. Though I guess it helps that he's a Firefighter. I think he's nuts because he decided that's what he wants to do because I am terrified of fire. But he likes it as far as I can tell.

I think I've been afraid of fire since a house I'd lived in with my Mom and Ex step dad had caught on fire, somehow the fireplace did it. I'm not sure of the details. But I'm defiantly afraid of it. When I went to Universal Studios, we went to the Backdraft show. Now the end of the show was cruel for me because the whole thing caught fire, of course it as restrained (however they did that miracle) and it couldn't cause any damage or get out of control. But then I was on the last level and that level FELL! It didn't fall all the way down of course but enough to make me jump even when frozen with fear, teeth grinding, eyes wide and heart stopped. Not a good experience for me. And not one I'm likely to repeat. If you're over 60 and have high blood pressure or heart problems and you are terrified of fire like I am- I DO NOT RECOMMEND IT! If you're not however, you might find it interesting.

Funny how thoughts travel huh? From sitting, to my Uncle Larry, to fire, to Universal Studios. I love the brain. It's a complex little mystery of life that I don't think science can explain most the time. Something or someone genius knew what s/he was doing when s/he made us Humans.

Communication+Me= HORRIBLE!

October 15, 2009



Communication. One of the many things I am terrible with. I very rarely tell anyone how I feel, what I think, what I'm feeling, what I want and so on. I don't tell my best friend, my mother, my family, not one person. It's all stored inside of me. I have a hard time with opening up. Sometimes I'm grateful for it, and other times...I just wish I had the power to be open and let people see what I feel. But I don't.



I can honestly say I write my feelings down better than I can say them. I can write down what I think better than I can say it. Unless of course I'm telling a person what I think of them, but even then I sometimes can't. Communicating is hard for me. And I hate public speaking.



I guess I'm kind of shy as well, but it's in a reserved and cautious kind of way. It's not in a "Blushing at every word that's said to me" kind of way. I'm not good with people. When a person says something and I don't think it's important or interesting I don't really say anything. It's very hard for me to explain seeing as it's my problem. I don't freeze up when a person talks to me, but like I said, if it's not important or interesting, I say nothing.



It's hard online at times as well. If a person is making small talk with me I don't think of anything to really say because I do not know that person. It's almost amazing I've made a few friends online on Twitter!



I was talking to someone on Twitter and he said that when I write about my communication problem to give him the link for it. But I really don't know what to say about this. Is that another sign that I'm a bad communicator? Maybe.



Maybe I just need lessons on this stuff. Is there a class for that? Blogging and communicating, that is. Probably. They seem to have a class for almost everything. I could do that. It would be hard for me. Because the class would probably make me stand up in front of others and talk to them about a certain subject that the teacher chooses. Which really sucks. I'm not sure what to do.



I used to be able to talk with my mom about anything. Same with my best friend. But over the past 4 years things have changed for me and about me. People say change is good and I used to think so. But is it really? When that change is so bad?

Stereotyping and Jazz

October 10, 2009


My mom is a beautiful mom and person who likes peanut M&M's. Yes indeed. I told her I was writing a blog post and she said to me "You should tell them about how beautiful I am." So I am. I'm actually writing this in a car next to her, unfortunately. But she won't be able to read what I write since she is the one driving. I don't tell her what I write about, I don't tell her what I think about most things. I don't think she'd understand. But that's that right?


Plus I'm not a very good communicator. I can write my feelings better than I can tell about them and even better than I can show them. I very rarely show what I feel. I don't think my own family knows what my beliefs, emotions and thoughts are. Most of my own friends do not know how I feel. I don't want to disappoint them nor my family with what I feel.


It's hard to write about this in a car with the one person, whom I love unconditionally, in here. So I will not.


I knew what I was going to write about when I first logged onto my computer, but I find myself not wanting to. Maybe another time. Right now there is some music on. Halestorm, a band I recently heard and absolutely love. "I Get Off" is the song. Yes, if you are mature enough to know that phrase's meaning, it is exactly as you think. It's not distasteful, it's actually a very simple and slightly erotic song. It's not soft at all though, it's hard rock and an awesome song to sing to when your alone (I would know) and probably a good song to sing to your sexual partner (that I wouldn't know) it's just a guess though.


In my first post I mention I have a wide taste in music, which is true. I'm very recently getting into Jazz. But I'm picky about it. I like the soft, velvety voice of a man singing to a soft and haunting, harmonizing instrument. But I like Jazz more when it's just the instrument itself. I don't like the upbeat kind of Jazz though. Not so far. I like it when it makes your skin tingle, your heart bounce. When it gives your spine a tickle and chill because of the beauty of it. When it makes your whole body plunge into different sensations all at once that confuses you and dazzles you.


That is by far the best Jazz.


Unfortunately, I've only heard little of that kind. If anyone has any kind of recommendations I would gladly listen to them. I try to listen to an artist's song first and decide if I like their sound. I don't really go by genre but by sound. For instance I like a few of Carrie Underwood's songs and Taylor Swift's songs. They are considered country. I don't find myself liking a lot of "country" music though. I don't judge a genre but the artists themselves. And as I notice it's usually the other way around for a good majority of the world. The judge the genre more than the artist. Every artist has their own unique sound. A genre does not. It's exactly like classifying a person into one specific group. Stereotyping. People stereotype people and music into group because they don't see one person, or artist as ONE unique person.


Let me give an example of a stereotyped person I know. My friend Dyno. (It's not her real anme but I'm not putting her real one on here.) Some people would stereotype her as a nerd, bookwork, geek...stuff like that. She's very intelligent. She can memorize nearly everything you give her. Though she cannot not remember where she put her own backpack, purse, keys, drink, etc. But though she is intelligent, there is more. She's a random creature who often just says something completely mind-numbing and surprising that it makes you have to think about what she said a few times before you get it. She's clumsy. Though thankfully I put her into high heels and showed her how to walk in them and now she loves them and hasn't broken her ankle. (Knock on wood.) She loves shoes and clothes. And thanks to me, make-up. She's a rebel too. She probably wouldn't see herself that way, but she is. And she knows how to argue, annoyingly so. It's hard to beat her but I think we're tied so far on number of wins.


She has different tastes in different things and friends and places. She can not be classified as one specific thing, much like an artist.


I hope I've done my best to explain my view on this. If not- tell me and I'll try again.


Each person is unique, not to be classified with a stereotype, unless they are boring enough to CHOOSE to be stereotyped.

Photographic Memory

October 5, 2009

I’m in the library right now. And I just got done talking to a very interesting man named Jimmy. Well he did most of the talking, I did the listening. But I was at first helping him with a problem on his computer and after I fixed it he thanked me and said I was a very sharp young lady. Well after he said that we got onto the subjects of Autism and how he knew a man with it who was incredibly intelligent. This man- Herb- had a brilliant photographic memory. Jimmy told me how one day Herb and himself were talking in Herb’s library and Herb told him to get a book and open it and read a bit. So he did.

Then Jimmy told me that Herb then told him to go to any page in the book and tell him the number of the page. So he did. Herb said he’s only seen that page once and starting talking about what the page said- word by word.

Is that not incredibly amazing? That would be helpful to have in school, no? Jimmy told me to never let my mind go dormant for it was very hard to get it back into shape in all sort of aspects.

Anyways I thought I’d share all this. Usually I don’t like talking to people, but he was nice to talk to. My mom would probably freak if she knew that I actually offered to help a stranger with his computer and then talked to him. For two reasons- One, he’s a stranger. And two, I’m a distant, sometimes shy and direct person.

I learned quite a bit from this Jimmy though. It was an interesting experience. I actually remembered a phrase I’d heard once as Jimmy and I were talking about photographic memory. “Everyone has a photographic memory, most just don’t have film.”

2 Minutes

September 28, 2009


In my last blog post I wrote a few things about a few subjects, now I am to write a few things about myself. It’s hard for me, no doubt. I’ve a hard time telling people about me. I’m not sure why. I hate to talk on the phone. I’d rather talk in person, even though I’m not good at that either. I can be, but that’s not as often as I’d like. My mom and I share 1500 minutes, this month I used 2 minutes.



I like technology. It’s complex and interesting and exciting. I can not claim to know everything about cell phones, computers, machines and Internet browsers, but I know that basics so far, I hope to learn more. I remember when I bought my first phone, it was a crappy pre-paid phone but it looked so cool and I loved figuring it out. It even had a flashlight. But I like figuring out what you can do and find with cell phones.



Now, computers are harder and defiantly more complex, as I’m sure many people know, but I still toy with my laptop and desktop to this day. I’ve had the same laptop for about 6 or 7 years now. I’ve had the same desktop for almost 4 years, which I got for free! I’ll tell how and why I got it free later. But I am the only one who uses both computers. My mom is horrible with technology, I have to help her when she gets a new cell phone, but she gets the hang of it.



Mythology is a great love of mine. I love learning about myths. I hope to learn more myths from different countries. I mostly know Greek myths and such. Athena and Artimis are my favorite Goddesses and Apollo and Poseidon are my favorite Gods. I could go on and on about Greek Mythology but I am not going to just now. Maybe I’ll dedicate a whole blog post to that subject sometime.



Video games are not my thing. I know people who can play for hours at a time. My own brothers probably play 2-4 hours at a time or at least in one day. I think it’s insane. I played one computer game called Age of Mythology, and I liked it as something to do when I was bored but I’m just not too crazy about it. Though I do like The Da Vinci Code game my brother has for PS2 and a car game he has for PSP, but I like that game just because I can crash into the cops and then evade them and get money for it.



I have two best friends that I know I will always be friends with and always be close to. Though I still don’t tell them everything. I don’t really have the chance to anyway since they live in a different town than I do. Anyway their names are Auddy and Dyno. Well it’s their nicknames. I’m not going to put their real names on here because I don’t have their permission to. Actually, they don’t even know I’m writing a blog.



So that’s a few things. I don’t want to run on and on. I know short post. Deal.

Here I Am

September 24, 2009

It's funny how I never thought I'd have myself a blog and yet...here I am. Maybe I never thought I'd have one because I wouldn't know what to write or because people would think I was boring or unintelligent or some other terrifying thing that I wouldn't like. But now I realize I'm not writing a blog for other people- I'm writing it for me. And if other people read it and follow or don't follow it- then so be it. If people read it and like it think I'm interesting- woohoo! And it people read it and think I'm an idiot- Get back to your own life. This is mine.

I wondered if I could write a blog, listing my thoughts and actions and daily events, letting people be free to read what my life entails. I think I can. Besides even if people do or don't read this new hobby of mine I can always go back in a year or more and see what the hell I was thinking about. We can't always remember our every thought or movement and such.

I don't think I'll update everyday. Or maybe even every other day or every two days. Maybe an update per week. Or two updates per week or three. Who the heck knows right? I don't. Maybe I'll start to fancy writing everyday. I do love to write. It soothes me at times, frustrates me at others, pisses me off to high hell when it's not going how I want it to but most of all I feel like I'm doing something right, something good and something enjoyable to me. I love it. I love the many feelings as I write, I love the twists of it, how you can make letters and sentences and paragraphs completely your own. I'm not the best writer I know but...You make writing your own. Maybe that's why I like it. Because when I write- It's mine. It's me. No one else's.

Writing. Acting. Music. Art. Film. I love all those things. I fancy myself a good writer so far- for 17 years of age and since I wrote about writing in the above paragraph I don't imagine I should here as well. Acting, well I guess I can be okay at that, I've never really been in a play, though I have done some scenes and was supposed to be in a play called Blythe Spirit as Madame Arcati, whom I picked the part of, since it was just a class play and not a school one. But we never got to rehearse much or anything because some of the students didn't want to do it and didn't feel like doing their lines and didn't think it was fun anymore and that it was boring. It really pissed me off and bummed me out that they dropped the class and that we couldn't do the play after all. I've done some monologues and in the 6th through 8th grade we had these magazines that had little plays in them, but we'd stay in our seats and just read them, but I hated it so I used my voice to act out my part of Ella from Ella Enchanted in 6th grade, of Violet in Series of Unfortunate Events in the 7th grade and Elizabeth Bennett from Pride and Prejudice in the 8th grade. Loads of fun for me. But that's all the experience of acting for me.

Now granted I don't have the loveliest voice or have any musical instruments talents, but music I do love. Rock, Pop, Worldly, New Age, Orchestra, Classical, Jazz (Without lyrics though). And though I do like some Rap, Blues, Hip-Hop, and even rarely Country music, I don't follow those musical genres as much as I do the many others that I listed. But I do love music. Music that makes you want to get up and dance, Like Michael Jackson's music, may he rest in peace and people leave him and his family be. Music that makes you want to sit down a read a good book as you dimly hear the sweet music in the background, like Mozart or New Age music. Music that makes you want to sing along, like too many different artists that make you want to sing. Music that makes you wish you could play an instrument so that you could makes the same kind of music that as interesting affects on people, like Jazz and Blues. Music is an amazing and delightful pleasure that I will never tire of.

Now being the horrible artist that I am I can't claim to paint or draw and sculpt or anything and I won't pretend that I know professional artist names or pieces or even procedures, but I do appreciate it and love to examine and look at many forms of art. Though I will admit I do know a little Da Vinci and few other artist names. But I love to examine a piece and wonder why the artist made it, what they were thinking, feeling when they did. Had they made thought of someone or something that inspired them? Was it an out of the blue image that popped into their head? How had they felt after they had been done with that single piece of creation? So many questions, not many answers. But that's what life is sometimes life so the phrase "Art often imitates life," is used quite well in that aspect.

Watching films will always be something I'll do because I love everything about them. The making of it, the acting, the costumes, the machines used, the make-up, the people involved. I like criticizing and thinking about them. I like dreaming about them and thinking about what I would do differently if I'd been in the shoes of one of the characters. Everything. They fascinate me and some even make me go into awe. When I'm in a blue fog I'll watch a movie that makes me smile and laugh, the most frequent being Pirates of the Caribbean. When I'm in a red haze of anger I like to watch a movie that makes me forget the bad or stupid and makes me smile dreamily, like Pride and Prejudice. When I'm in a green eyed moment I like to watch a movie that will make me realize that life is short and that people have it worse, such as Stepmom or Titanic or something. There's so many wonderful and different, dreamy and satisfying, laughable and heart-warming, intriguing and mysterious things and feelings about movies. I could go on and on. Movies can do that to me.

If you are reading this and wondering- "Well she told us what she likes and why, what else can she have to say?" The answer is- Quite more. And if you are not wondering that and are thinking I'm boring- Then go back to your own life, as I said in the beginning, this is mine. And if you are smiling, then I'm so very glad that I could make a person smile today. Maybe it's not because of who I am but more of because you understand something of what I said on one of the subjects, then I am still very glad that you can smile and advise you to always find or do something that makes you smile.

Life is worth a smile.