Without

He seems like he could give me what I want

Moms Make The Best Friends

By Abigail Wilentz
Illustrated by Amy Schimler

She was the source of unforgettable memories.
She took you ice-skating for the very first time.
She showed you how to pet a horse's nose.
She read aloud to you some of her favourite books that became your favourites too.
She let you try on her jewelry..sometimes all at once.
She helped you choose the perfect shade of your first grown-up lipstick.
She bought you your first pair of little black heels.
She urged you to fill your life with rich experiences - fill your passport with as many stamps as possible, taste the exotic flavors of different cuisines, learn the melodic sounds of other languages, and read, read, read, to immerse yourself in multiple points of views. Swim with dolphins. Sleep under the stars. Write Poetry. Paint, Wear fire-engine red and tango till dawn. You only get one chance, she always said, this is not a dress rehersal.
...

SURE...

Sick Note

I didn't get any sleep last night and ended up attending only an hour and a half out of my 6 hours of class today. I wasn't sure what I was hoping for when I left the room after I finished my presentation: I actually stood outside the doorway (without the teacher noticing, of course) for a good two minutes, frozen.

I feel that I am really growing up. I know, something as simple as leaving class early for some reason can make me feel like I am growing up. No, that's not really the case - it's really about how if I used to feel sick back then and wanted to leave school, I would have to go through all the troubles of calling home and waiting in the nurse's office until someone came to pick me up. Those were the days where I blame my mother for every minute it takes for her to get to school to pick me up. Not just when I was sick, but other times I would have to rely on my mom because I didn't know how to drive yet.

But now, I can drive, and my mom would make me go to places by myself and run errands for her. Don't get me wrong - the freedom is awesome. But looking back, it's nice to have a little care coming from someone. A friendly gesture.

I hate how parents tend to give you freedom at an arm's length. If she wanted to give me more responsibility and freedom to control my own time, then why does she still get upset at times when I come home later? Why does it concern her as to what time I leave? I have complete access to the car - I can use it whenever I want, if, the car was available. She gives me the right to do whatever I want, but neglects my schedule. I need a car, but her reason for not getting me a car was "I still need to restrain you". A better reason would be to say "I don't have the money to get you a new car," not that. It's hard to breath when you suddenly yank my collar and choke me.

Going back to the idea of care, I am getting much less of that from my parents now. Maybe because they aren't involved with my life anymore, and vice versa. My grandma is growing to be clingy, and I feel that she is someone I need to protect and take care of, other than the other way around. Then here comes the question - who is there to protect me?

Hello Boredom

I can see my panda eyes at work.
I am stressed and can barely keep my eyes shut.
I wake up every hour for God knows what reasons.

Tomorrow I have a picture book fair and have to hand in the project I lost.
Then I have to work on the same goddamn project yet again.
It's a good thing I have revised my work.

Alright. I am sure no one cares.
Caz I could care less.

I need to sleep;
I have no idea what is going on

On Silent Repeat

I am actually afraid of listening to this song, watching the MV,

or even seeing his face.

It's strange, what made you once smile,
could make you cry.

And it's never that easy to forget.

Papercuts

"Don't hold anger, hurt, and pain.
They steal your energy and keep you from love."

Grammar school was where we fumbled into relationships as a blank piece of paper.
Into the twenties we go,
and this paper,full of ink, folds, and rips,
manages to give the other a papercut.
Right at the heart.

bright lights, dark nights

Paper crunch time. According to mechanics, they can't find my 10,000 + word paper. YAY!

Oh Hey! Groupies! I like what I am seeing right now - you guys slaving away trying to finish your parts :) Thank goodness I decided to take the high road, and finish way before you guys.

if you are my group member, sorry.

As the title suggess, if you are my group member and you come across this, I apologize.
This is because I am going to rant about you.

I understand I am agressive and have pushed you guys to do work. I want you guys to respond to emails and give ideas even though it was the first week of the project. But have you realized that the project is due in two weeks and we only have one class time to work on it? So I send out emails hinting that emails should be replied within hours, not days, since we are students so our days should not be "business days". Sure, that's a little harsh, but someone has to be the bitch to get work done, right?

Our paper proposal is due the coming thursday, and now we are supposed to finish our work by tuesday. Are you kidding me? That gives a leeway of one day to change everything.

Alright, I finished my part before anyone even started on it, before it was even adminstered to anyone to do. It's legit, it's fair, because I missed out on a group meeting, so I did the part. Now, you assign another person to do the part with me, but you assign that I work on that part alone. I have already done the whole thing, and you want me to revise it. Fine. But then, what does Miss S have to do? Miss S has nothing to do. Miss S is working on this part with me - she has not done anything. So why don't you tell her to revise it? What would she be doing if I revised it?

Not to mention, Miss S, you just joined our group this week, what else have you done except for being offended that I asked you what major you were in? Just because you are in second year and have no major does not give you any right at being a bitch. I asked everyone for their Facebooks because that is an easier way to bombard you with work, and Mr. J, you don't have to say er I think email is sufficient. OF COURSE email is sufficient for you - you don't reply. That's the point - none of you want to expose your information to allow for people to bombard you. This is what everyone does - they give you the SFU email, not the hotmail, so you can use the excuse of "I didnt check because it is not my primary email!"

Miss S, I don't have your hotmail but I have your SFU email. How on EARTH do I contact you? I bet you are going to find me on monday night and write this thing by yourself without realizing that I already wrote it.

I had a personal emergency so I couldn't make it to the meeting; but people who held the meeting, couldn't you have gotten everyone's number so we can reach each other?

Miss K, even though you are actually my friend, I have nothing to say besides the fact that I am dissapointed in you. I started a google doc and no one really replied to it until I gave the "I want everyone to reply within two days email". What did you say? "I don't think its neccesary because we don't even have an idea as to what we are going to do". Well, friend, we don't have an idea as to what we are going to do, and we weren't meeting up because none of your lazy asses wanted to. So we all settled that we would contribute on Googledoc. I started it, told everyone to join it and give ideas and broke down into sections as to how the whole assignment will run. It is so detailed that it will already serve as a group meeting and we would have had settled on an idea. You think it's useless? It's not - because if everyone contributed and settled on something, we could have started this project a week ago.

Mr. W, you are amazing. The fact that you have non-constructive ideas (but I really do appreciate it because it makes people question and think up better solutions), you don't do anything. You sit around and give useless opinions. You are the perfect example of all talk no do. No wonder you are still in university; I mean, how the hell do you not know your own school email?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

I've had it. This group, I am not doing anything else. Miss S better call me soon, because I am not going to revise anything.

Other than the fact that I am pushy and want work done, I have nothing to be sorry for. Because everything I have written for you guys, was already enough to hand in as a project.

Fucking first years who are fucking their way through first year, and fourth years who don't give a shit because this is a first year course, WAY to carry this attitude in education. It probably gets you nowhere in life now that I have seen your work ethics.

infection from tears

Paper still lost in the midst of the pixel ocean
Feelings still burried in confusion
Hurt still scurrying to find a way to mention

Tick Tock Tick Tock

It's another sleepless night
Time to nightdream awake
Time to stare at the computer screen and wince a little
Time to let them loose.

Hardwork?

I just finished writing a 12 page single-spaced paper and somehow it is lost in the midst of the pixel ocean.

I want to trip, fall flat on my face, if it means I can wear heels all the time

I want
to conquer
the world
in these shoes.

Or I at least want to get my hands on them.

Constantly running around the igloo-like weather (alright, I am exaggerating), but cold enough weather up at the (S)ecret (F)rosty (U)niversity (that locates itself in the mountains) in UGGs, I feel deprived of fashion.

I am no fashionista - I buy bargains, I have no idea what and when newest collection of Oscar De La Renta hits the runway, I have clothes from last season's Marc Jacobs, bags that are the cheaper versions of that particular brand, and I don't worship Vogue like my Bible. But I am still a girl that looks at the mirror and complains about her look, that I would mind wearing clothes that make my already "critique-able" body even...worse.

Today I woke up around 10:00am for some odd reason. The first thing I do every morning is to check all my email accounts on my iPhone. NEWS: Nightmare alert - the stupid children's literature course that I am taking requires me to find 10 books from this specific author of which most of her books are discarded. Great? Absolutely. I am now slaving away to childrens book and bullshitting, because I don't even have the books on hand. Not to mention, I am doing this paper weeks before is due. And then I go to the washroom. DOUBLEHIT. I look tired, and I see a lot of fat (not fishing for compliments here).

As a communication student, I am constantly writing papers and proposing new ideas and critiques to today's culture, which is ever-so-current. The constant late nights, panics, and stress is showing on my face. From a young age, I've been on medication as well. This contributes to my weight. ALSO ALSO ALSO I scramble for sleeptime and wake up last minute. If school is at 1:30, I would wake up at 1 and leave the house.

What am I trying to say after all that blubber?
I am just trying to say, as a girl, I want to shine, look good, put on makeup, have people not critique me. But as a girl, I also hold insecurities, and alongside with all these latenights, I just give up and go to school in sweats and UGGs.

I want to be able to run 100 meter sprints in crazy Louboutins, I want to wear jeans and tanktops without lovehandles and sudden bulges.

But I can't even wear a t-shirt sometimes in the summer, because of my insecurities. Don't get me wrong, I exercise regularly, I diet, I do everything I can to lose weight. And I am proud - because the medication I am on is the only reason I gained like, 40 something pounds (I've managed to lose....some). Of course there is more I can do, but I still need to live a life fulfilling other things instead of my personal weight goals.

Sometimes I wonder: what if I never gained the 40 pounds. Would I become the person I am today, who feels for those that struggle to lose weight, for those who fear the constant usage of medication hurting their liver, for the girls who turn to anorexia just to conform to society norms? Maybe yes, maybe no.

That aside, I still wish to lose some weight, boost my confidence a little, and finally go to school in some crazy heels. I remember I make fun of girls at my university (since it's up at a mountain) in crazy makeup (eyeliner, fake lashes, foundation, powder, bronzers..), sleeveless dresses and tops, skinny jeans, and in 5 inch heels that strut the hallways as their runway. Sure, I make fun of them, but really, I envy them too. So, remembering how it is like to wake up every morning to panic attacks, then to seeing the mirror and panic even more, I want to make a vow.

... I vow to go to school one day with full-on makeup, a tight curve-hugging dress, and some crazy 6 inch high heels before I graduate. I'll take a picture then.

xx,
JJ.

Choosing

As much as my title suggests that I am making some sort of life-changing choice,
it's really just the topic of...

...how I always make blogs and abandon them.

I am either not satisfied with my username (then why make it in the first place?) or that I always go back to Xanga. I suppose xanga is still numero uno, since I've used it for so long and I can't help but keep to an old friend. At the same time, using Xanga just makes it seem like I haven't grown up, I haven't moved on. Is that really the case?

Xanga, I suppose, would be comfort zone, of which all (well, most) my memories, painful or delightful, are stored. Moving onto something like WordPress and BlogSpot makes me seem modern, grown-up, chic, with-it. But the whole layout itself is still so new to me.

So here I come to the question. BlogSpot? WordPress? Xanga? I got BlogSpot because it seems to be the "it" thing, and a way to try to rid and grow up from my past; but why do I always go back.

In the end, I think blogging is story-telling; the story-telling of my life. I choose to package it in the most updated version of acceptance, hence censoring and filtering.

Xanga will always be, the ultimate venting place.
But BlogSpot? It will be my way to tell the world my story.
It will be where I publish the story of my life, in the way I want it, electronically. Critique or not, I write it for myself, not for others. If you enjoy my story-telling method, stay with me. If not, I hope that somehow made you think about the things I say.

All I want to do, is jot down a few memories, and share it, with myself. Also because I am too lazy to write actual words down so typing is here.