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Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Friday, April 23, 2010

Thursday, April 22, 2010

"You've got a friend in me, You've got a friend in me"

"You've got troubles, well I've got 'em too
There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you
We stick together and we see it through
Yeah, you've got a friend in me"
--Toy Story

So, I haven't updated in a couple days, and someone commented on that and told me I need to post again! These past few days have actually been REALLY good. I've been feeling pretty happy. The other night/morning when I couldn't sleep (between the hours of 4 and 6:30 am) I decided to clean my room--it was a MESS before, and it is absolute glory now...I even vacuumed and organized all my drawers and whatnot. And I've created a new rule for myself and my friends: anything you move from its original spot, or take out of a drawer MUST be returned back to that place once you are finished with it. And speaking of my friends, I have two of the most amazing best friends in the whole wide world. No joke though, they're really amazing. They have been here for me and supported me through all of my shit and all of my depression, no matter what--and I know how obnoxious it can be to hear someone complaining for such a long period of time. And for all that, I thank them. On top of loving their support, I also have a shit ton of fun with them--whether it's painting our nails, drinking wine, watching American Idol gives back, or exercising (which is something I despise doing), I can enjoy myself if they're around. So I'd like to make this post mostly a tribute to them. Tomorrow, the three of us are going to Brushstrokes because I've decided to confront that girl that works there and give her my number--their support is extremely necessary...OBVIOUSLY. And while we're there, we're gonna paint a "BFF" bowl or plate or something...yeah, we're dorks like that. And then tomorrow night is Fetish Ball, which I know isn't their scene at all, but I'm forcing them to go--just for a little while at least. And then from Saturday morning till mid-Sunday, we're hopefully going to Pacific Grove, which is where Kristofferson lives...and Janis, her boyfriend and my really good friend, will be there so we're gonna crash at his place, I believe. I've caught up on all my work because of them...Kristofferson and I sat at l'Amyx for 5+/- hours the other day just doing homework--and getting distracted with conversation from time to time. And Mermaid has been pushing me really hard to do my work, and she has been keeping me from procrastinating. All in all, if you two are reading this, I love you both more than you know it, thank you for EVERYTHING.

Over and Out,

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

"Je ne regrete rien"

Right now I'm laying in the same spot that I was in when I first got the call that she had died. I didn't even think about it maybe being hard for me, but now that I'm here, my heart is hurting again. I need to get over it--I really just need to get over this, and all my other issues and start getting my shit together. I spent the majority of the day with Kristofferson at a tea bar doing homework--I got a good amount of work done, considering the fact that I've barely done any homework this semester. The stress is starting to relieve itself, little by little. Between the hours of 4 and 6:30 yesterday morning, I was wide awake--cleaning my room. It still needs to be vacuumed, but other than that, it looks sooo good. I noticed today that my jaw wasn't tensing as much as it has been lately, but it's still sore from tensing it so often the past week. I've started a new page in the story of my life.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

"Baby how I dream of being free since my birth. Cursed but the demons I confronted would disperse"

"Have you ever heard of some shit so real?
Beyond from the heart, from the soul you can feel..." --Kid Cudi

So I'm gonna talk a little bit about myself, and my life, and one of the reasons that I'm fucked up to the extent that I am right now. I just got home from seeing Kick-Ass with Mermaid and Kristofferson...little did I know, this was a pretttty fuckin violent movie--blood, gore, name it, it was there. The first violent scene was when the lead character, Dave--better known as Kick-Ass--gets almost the exact same spot that the victim I was with got stabbed last year:

“We need help! Please come quick! We’re at--I don’t know what the address is! The cross streets? I don’t know, Piedmont and something.”

“Piedmont and Channing,” I hear somebody scream.

“We’re at Piedmont and Channing. Please, please hurry. My friend just got stabbed.”

I realize then that I don’t even know “my friend’s” name, someone tells me that his name is Rob. Why am I panicking? Why do I have my hand on his bleeding stomach? I see his blood seeping through our fingers -- a deep, warm red. I have my right hand over his, putting pressure on his gushing wound; my left hand is busy holding a phone up to my ear while I scream for the police to come. Amidst all of the chaos, Rob manages to get his bloody, black shirt off. We begin to wrap it around his stomach. As soon as we lift our hands from his wound, his dark, warm blood begins to pour out. We quickly tighten the shirt and replace our hands against his stomach -- mine, on top of his. Why aren’t the fucking cops here yet? Someone helps me convince Rob to lie down. I’m on top of him now, putting as much pressure as I can with one hand against his stomach. I’m still on the line with the police operator.

“Ma’am, the police will be there very soon. I need you to stay calm for me, ma’am.”

The police pull up then -- about twelve cars, their sirens blaring and their lights shining. I finally look up, away from Rob, away from our hands, away from the red stained sidewalk. I realize that what has seemed like hours, has only been minutes -- two, maybe three minutes. Someone rushes over and takes my place at Rob’s side; I don’t see whether he’s a cop or a paramedic, but he reassures me that he’s got this situation under control.
I’m standing alone now...I mean, there are herds of people standing around us, some may even be talking to me, but I don’t know what they’re saying. All I know is that my favorite, yellow sweater and my hand are stained red. My finger tips have become prunes, wrinkled from the wet blood. The air is making the blood dry on my hand; the blood is cold now -- freezing -- not warm like it had been before. My hand, and me, and nothing else.
My friends are screaming at me, to get my attention, but I don’t hear them; I can see their mouths moving, but no words are coming sounds. I don’t know where I am anymore; everything around me is moving, but I’m stuck -- stuck in the same position, unable to take a step, unable to understand what has happened. Finally, one of my friend’s grabs on to me,

“JULIA. I need you to look at me. You’re okay. We’re okay. He’s gonna be okay; the ambulance just left. They’re taking him to the hospital.”

“I need something to wipe my hand off with,” I don’t realize until this moment that I am crying -- tears flying down my cheeks, “I need to get the off my hand NOW. Please.”

An officer notices my panic and walks over to me with a wet tissue. I try to wipe the blood off, but it’s sticky, the tissue is just tearing and my hand is still bright red. I’m shaking.

“Please, please, I need it off of me. I really need to clean my hands. I really really need them clean,” I beg.

Another officer sees my frantic pleading, and he walks me over to the firetruck. He leaves me with a fireman.

“Okay, hun. Put out your hands. This is hydrogen peroxide. I’m gonna pour it into your hands, and I want you to rub them together.”

He pours the peroxide, and it starts to bubble and turn a bright pink in my cupped hands. I rub as hard and as fast as I can. He gives me a rag to wipe them off. The majority of the blood is gone -- off of my skin, at least. But I can still see it under and around my nails. I wonder if it will ever really be gone.

One Week Later:

I heard from Rob today. He’s out of the hospital, and he’ll be going back to school soon. Thank god. The doctors say he got stabbed in the liver, about 2 inches deep; they say that if it had been anywhere else, he could’ve been dead; they say that if pressure hadn’t been applied to it, he could’ve been dead. Why are people calling me a hero? I am not a hero. In fact, I am far from a hero. I just did what my instinct told me to do. I can’t remember the incident very clearly anymore. I was with the police until 4 am that morning, telling them my story and identifying a couple guys in the lineup they had. They called me again today, asking for another statement, but I couldn’t remember much. I don’t think I can ever go back there again; the fear that has been inflicted on me, the memories that are glued in my brain will never go away.

So, when my classmates wonder why I don't focus in class, or why I may not be there as often as I should, I want them to know this. I want them to see that my world is fucked up. Sometimes, I think it's fucked beyond repair...but I know that's not true. My mind is ALWAYS filled with these thoughts...and this is only one of the many "life experiences" that I have had. So, I'm sorry to my classmates who are disturbed by my lack of attention, or my lack of attendance, or my frequently sorrowful face--I am working as hard as I can to be strong and to use these as "learning experiences," but sometimes, it's just not that simple.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

"Sittin' on the dock of the bay, wasting time"

It's been a longggg day! I went for a hike with Kristofferson and Joni today. It was absolutely beautiful, and really gorgeous. --Oh fuck it, I don't really feel like talking about my day, as relaxing as it was. I had a jacket in Olive's room, and since we're not talking, she decided to throw it on the floor in front of my door...she could've just as easily laid it nicely on the pile of boxes next to my door, or hung it on my door handle--but no. If that's the way she wants it to be then that's fine...I'm not really the best person to make enemies with though.

I talked a lot about my life today on the hike...fuck, my life has been hard. It makes me so angry--I lost my innocence at such a young age...and it wasn't because my mommy sat me down and told me about the real world. I had to learn it all the hard way, and I think that that fucking sucks. Sometimes I just wanna gather a backpack full of things that I need--not in that group of things would be my phone, my computer, and my ipod--and I wanna catch a plane to Costa Rica. I just wanna get away from all the chaos. I want to face my fears...I want to really, honestly think about my life and work through my problems and my stress. It's really getting to be too much for me to handle:

one of my uncles on my dad's side recently finished his 6 month long hepatitis treatment. fast forward 2 months or so, and he gets back some odd test results from a blood test he had taken. 6 weeks later we find out that his hep is back and he has to undergo a year and a half of treatment--his mother just fucking died, and he has no one to take care of him or be with him...I don't get it. It makes me so angry. The treatment is extremely tedious and painful. He's been in enough pain already--when is it going to fucking stop.

my aunt, whom we call Boulette, on my dad's side is also going through an extremely rough time after the loss of my grandmother. She took Grand Mere's death really hard. The doctor put her on some really strong anti-depressants, but he also suggested that she be checked into a psychiatric ward for her severe depression......................WHAT.THE.FUCK. whatthefuck!?!? honestly i'm just angry now. no, i'm a very strong mixture of sad and angry--sangry?

I just feel like disappearing for a little while. Getting my school work done has been nearly impossible. I want to be with my mommy and daddy right now. I want everybody to be together. My dad has started going back to AA meetings--I'm really proud of him for doing it. I love him so so much, and I miss him so so much.

I'm tired, but I can't sleep. Since these new anti-depressants, my sleep pattern has been fucked. I wake up multiple times throughout the night, and no matter how tired I am, I can't sleep. ...or maybe it's from the depression. Either way, I'm getting pretty sick of it.

Over and out!

Thursday, April 15, 2010

So I went to Brushstrokes last week with one of the girls I babysit and a friend of hers. I couldn't stop looking at one of the women who worked there. She was super cute, looked queer. I was cleaning up my paint palette and whistling, and she was like, "Wow, you're a great whistler...I haven't heard anyone whistle like that before." All I could say was "thanks." I got suuuper shy. So before I left, I smiled at her and that was it. Then I had to go back today to pick up the stuff, and sure enough, she was there!She wrapped up all my stuff and asked me a few questions. It felt like she was flirting, but I really have no idea. I got home, and did some major stalking on the brushstrokes website and figured out her name--it's Alex...yes, that is my sister's name, but I can manage. I also saw some of her artwork, which I really liked...and I figured out that she likes red wine--at least, there was a picture of her drinking it on their website. I wanna talk to her, but I'm too shy...what should I do!?!

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

"I want you to come on, come on, come on, come on and take it!"

Take another little piece of my heart now, baby, (break a..)
Break another little bit of my heart now, darling, yeah.

My ex boyfriend, Kicker, called me tonight. After I got off the phone with him, Janice Joplin's "Piece of My Heart" started playing over and over in my head. That song just fits too well... The last time I saw him, we were both pretty trashed and we ended up fucking. He left right after we were finished...he just got up, put his clothes back on, said goodbye, and started to walk out my door. I bawled... We were together for 6 1/2 years, on and off-six and a half fucking years--and he has the balls to treat me like that. Now maybe you can see why I don't want to be with a man anytime soon. All of my experiences with men have been fuuuucked up. Kick knew my grand mere pretty well--after all, he did stay with her for two weeks when he came to visit me in France. The day she died, I texted him to tell him, and--naturally--I expected a response from him, but I got nothing. I should have known. I always second guess myself with him. I know him perfectly...I know how he works. Of course he wasn't going to text me back...he's too busy fucking his 31 year old girlfriend (he's 21, mind you). I guess because he was my first--and so far only--love, I'll always have feelings for him...regardless of how horribly he's treated me. If you know me well, then you know that our relationship was a wreck.

I need to find, I don't "need to," I want to. I want to find somebody fresh and new. I know you're out there, and I'm waiting for you!

Goodnight everyone. Hope your lives are somewhat calmer than mine is.
I cried... I finally cried. But it still hurts.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

"C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui, dans la vie"

I Am From...

I am from songs sweet,
hearts full.
Wide, grinning mouths.
Loud, joyous laughter.
I am from addiction.
Ice clinking in glass.
Drugs invading body.
Taking control.
Giving the feeling of power,
Taking the ability of power.
I am from weakness.
Broken glass.
Lonely nights.
Thoughtless nights.
Sleepless nights.
I am from recovery.
From disappointment and heartbreak.
From dreams of none.

I am going toward hearts full,
Eyes glistening,
Cheeks glowing.
I am going toward the strength to see what I deserve!
Toward those I return home to at night.
Those who know what is needed to make me smile.
Those who want to make me smile.
And distractions.
Bike bells ringing,
Soft, sweet moans.
Loud, forceful moans.
Feet thumping on pavement.
Moving quickly.
Beads of sweat dripping down my face

I will surround myself with positive influences like
My vagina family,
My school,
My heroes.
And when I get scared, tired, and discouraged,
I will turn to him.
My father.
Strength radiating throughout him.
His knowledge of life.
His deep, thick accent teaching wrong from right.
His big, blue eyes,
The essence of pain shooting out of them.
I see it all,
Feel it all,
Hear it all.

I am steering clear of my addictions and my heartbreak,
With those,
I have nothing to live for,
Nothing to strive for,
Nothing to work for.
I want a bright future for myself because
I do not want to return to my dreams of none.
My addiction.
My illness.
I want a bright future for myself because

Above all else, I know that I am beautiful,
And by staying on my positive track,
Anything is possible…

Monday, April 12, 2010

"Mama always told me not to look into the eye's of the sun. But mama, that's where the fun is"

Nothing too interesting happened today. I felt a little better, emotionally. Had a super awkward confrontation with Olive Oyl, after changing my facebook relationship status from "married to Olive Oyl" to "single" though. She thinks that I'm "mad" at least that's what she tells Pancake. How the fuck can she not get it!? To fill you in on the details, here's the long story short: she was madly in love with what seemed like a pretty amazing guy--I'll call him "Ahoy." Anyways, before Olive Oyl, Ahoy was dating Olive Oyl's best friend at the time Pippi Longstocking. Olive Oyl fell for Ahoy, and Ahoy fell for Olive Oyl and Pippi was out of the picture...just like that. So there is the first situation where Olive chose a guy over her friends. Then, a while later, Ahoy broke up with Olive--he broke her heart over the phone. And I was there for her, 100% of the time. My girlfriend, Smith, and I even broke up over it (she was jealous that I couldn't put her first on my list of priorities). Then, Spring Break rolled around and Olive and Ahoy started talking again. When I got back from France, I was heart broken--of course--because I had just sat in a hospital room for 10 days with my dying grandmother. Less than a week after I was back at school, April 1st to be exact, my grand mere died. I wanted to spend the weekend with my friends, but Olive said that she had already made plans to be with Ahoy that weekend (yes, the whole fucking weekend), and that she couldn't just cancel them... I expressed how I felt about this multiple ways, but none of my attempts seemed to work. She only ended up staying at school that weekend because Ahoy couldn't get a car to come pick her up...and even thoughshe was at school that weekend, I barely saw her...she sat in her room most of the weekend playing a stupid video game and saying that she was too tired to do anything. OBVIOUSLY, I've lost trust in her. And I'm far past the point of being mad now...I just don't want to be her friend. When I was in a time of serious need, she could not be there for me. So no, Olive, I am not mad at you, I just have lost all my trust in our friendship...and frankly? I don't think there really is hope of much of a friendship in the future.

I also wanted to talk a little bit about my day today. As I said in my post yesterday, I owe $260 in parking tickets to my school. Today was my first day of volunteer work to make up the money that I owe. I was pretty much given a lot of busy work, but most of it was very tedious. I found myself CRAVING the adderall. In high school, speed was my drug of choice--whether it be in the form of a powder that I snorted up my nose, or a pill that I swallowed multiple times a day. All the work that I was doing today was work that would've been much easier and much faster done with the help of the drug. I'm at such a stressful period in my life, and I wish I could be normal and just take 1 pill and be fine for the day...but I know that if I were to take one pill, I'd end up finishing the entire bottle of pills, and licking it clean--plus, I don't really have access to the drug...although I'm sure I could find it easily. I haven't had a craving like this in quite a while, and I'm really starting to think that maybe the drug could just get me out of this little tangle that I'm in, and then I could go off of it. What do you think??

Sunday, April 11, 2010

"Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah"

I am overwhelmed--no, overwhelmed doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling...I don't think there is one, lonely word that can describe my current state. These past few weeks have been some of the roughest of my life. I watched my father experience a kind of pain that nobody should experience, but that everybody does experience at some point in life...I watched my grandmother die. I got my heart broken by a friend, who I thought would always be here for me. And I realized that my abuse of alcohol has grown. Why is it so easy to forget your pain and fears when you're drunk? I used to do it with drugs, and with sex and abusive never stops. My friend and current hookup buddy, Jack Daniels, has been making this even more obvious for me. She's telling me that my priorities are fucked and that my drinking is out of control...I know this already, and I sure as hell don't need her rubbing it in my face even more.

Anyways, I should probably list the good things that are happening in my life: I had an amazing workout with Kristofferson and Pancake this morning, and we made pizza last night, then watched Coco Before Chanel--that was lots of fun...but I fell asleep during the movie. Went dancing thursday night with Pancake, Mermaid, and Pigeon...then I found out that Pigeon is engaged--what the fuck?? She spent the night hooking up with me, and then told me--via mother fucking text-- that she's engaged!!! Way to fuck with my emotions.----okay so I guess that's not really a positive...Let's get back to the positives: last weekend, I had possibly the best weekend of my joke. It consisted of seeing a midnight movie at the Piedmont movie theater (Jurassic Park), drinking butt loads of champagne, going to Fairyland with Mermaid and Pancake and her little brothers, and putting together a suuuuper awesome easter egg hunt for Mermaid, Joni Mitchell, Kristofferson, and Mustache City--the egg hunt was in the rain, which made it more fun (at least for me). This weekend was pretty decent as well, aside for getting pretty torn up by Pigeon, and arguing with JD.

I know that these "code names" that I've given people are pretty ridiculous, but I think that they add some sort of humor to the post...and each of them has a meaning behind it. Eventually, I'll start shortening the names, but for now, this is how you'll get to know these people.

I'm stressed out of my god damn mind... I have a paper due Tuesday that I already got a week long extension on, and I haven't fucking started it. I also have another paper that's weeks overdue that I should probably get started on. On top of that, I owe $260 to my school from all the parking tickets that I have...they're letting me pay it back through work, but $260 is equivalent to 26 hours of schedule this weekend is soooo fucked. I also have to change my major from French to Child Development, and my minor from Anthropology to French--I should've done this a long time ago, but I've been procrastinating because I know that my current advisor--whom I absolutely love--is going to be heart broken by my change of major.

This is my first post here...I'm sorry it's so long, I've just had a lot to say. Please feel free to comment whatever you'd like to say--I'm open to any comments. And thanks for reading... The drama will continue, I can assure you.