prom. for the last time.

so i went to prom last night with my best eleventh gradeee friend and a group of bitches who i graduated with/are friends with who are still in high school? i haven't slept yet.
The whole day was a rush. I made my dates corsage and it glistened with beauty. i spent like 45 minutes in a grocery store trying to find fettuccine and sparkling cider. (i bought coke.) we made dimmed-lit dinner and my mother annoyed us. it was cute.
prom was far away and fun and boring. a girl on prom court wore a suit and i loved, gargled, and swallowed it. she lost to the malibu barbie though. my best lessspian friend got arrested during school last year and couldn't attend her senior prom, so she came to this one. one lady gaga song was played. me and my best lessspian bitch caused a scene by falling all over each other to the rhythm of bad romance. i sneakily unbuttoned my shirt throughout our two person mosh pit so at the climax of the song it appeared i RIPPED my shirt open to reveal my undershirt with my best lessspian's friend mugshot on it. we're hardcore like that. people like, made a circle around us and watched and all we did was fall on each other! easy attention.
after prom at the high school was weird and even more fun and more boring. my date kept stalling all night so we'd stay long enough for the raffle. the cunt put 50+ tickets into the gps bucket and made us wait til 5am when the names were called to see if she'd win. she did. thank god. cuase if she hadn't? mmm...
i can hear my mom getting out of bed and starting her day upstairs. i should sleep.

This is another story about Anthony. And some other stuff.

i haven't blogged in a while. i've been off my boogie.
i'm working two jobs now and have been pretty busy! i saw bye bye birdie at .::~*NkU*~::. it was cute but i still don't like the show at all... i want to go to school so i can meet new friends. "do you have an all-access pass with us?" i think i'm like going to the lady fucking gaga concert. like, we'll discuss laterr. i took time to smell the lilacs and mindfucked the days away. it was great. oh! story:
Anthony swiftly rushed his nervous energy into the cold, stale air of the ancient bank as Paigene stormed to the first teller, shaking from intimidation. The couple were clear as to the plan of action and the room turned warm. The only evident proof of the magic is the receipt, sopped and distressed, reflecting the very aura of the sweating, cursed soul. Depositing enough money for cheap Lady Gaga tickets, the wicked two set up in a coffee house to be the first the have ticketry. After 19 seconds, the seats were gone and the two teenagers binged a bill, took what was left from the bank and headed to the mall. Days and dreams later, Anthony decides to close his very expensive bank account and put on his limited edition phantom of the opera style poker face to deal with the greased and obesed manager. An impossible overdraft fee of two dollars couldn't be argued quietly, so obeying rules of respect and reason, Anthony takes his time to stride and strut to his rusted car to pick out four rolls of sticky, coffee sopped pennies.

a perfect date involves sushi and dick.

I'm probably bipolar. And i know bipolar. so shut the fuck up.
I feel crazy. I'm angry, depressed, lonely, overwhelmed, tired, and free. i work tomorrow, then the day after that, twice. Why do i go a whole week without ANYTHING to do, then get three shifts in 24 hours? fucking bullshit. i realized that the people i think i'm most comfortable around, don't know me. I've made myself like things that i don't, and want things that i won't use. I'm concerned with so many aspects of being the perfect person because i don't want sour confrontation. If i just do the shit I want, i won't have to care if assholes say something about it because i'll be able to back it up. right? I NEED TO FOCUS ON ME. i need to move away and start over. I need to vent to someone. possibly a doctor, preferably a friend.

so i smoked a cigarette. and i'm still glooooooomy.
i need to do something. make something. bye.

i can do everything.

I went to restorative yoga monday evening. it was absolutely lovely, i might do it again. i was actually really frustrated doing it and needed a cigarette right quick. I think i spend too much time in my head and focused on my body outside of instructed meditation. putting aside my internal anger, the experience was very relaxing. it was raining when we left. our poor instructor drove her scooter to the studio! what a trendy bitch. anywho, rain rain rain fa deyz. cra cra lightning, WHITE OUT, hail, rain, car accident. every speck of tension immediately returned to my body as some old ass douche bag drove his 90's pedovan into the side of our car. We were all fine and chain smoked about it as we waited for the sexy cop and tow truck. I find myself walking through the projects of northern kentucky with my jordache carpet bag hoisted onto my back while i dodge puddles and bullets in my yogawear. We got back to the house and had a merry time.

I went to the park yesterday with my best boy friend and Jojo, a chihuahuahua dog. we ate sandwiches and layed on the benches then left and watched three movies. Autism the Musical is wonderful. The realest bitch I've ever seen talks about the depreciated value of an autistic life and its fucking crazy true:factual:raw and i love it. the movie was very enjoyable.

i drove my best boy friend to school across the riv' this morn. i don't mind doing it, but i don't have to. i'm nice.

I be shakin it for daddy he want more more more. Got that Bentley, got that Caddy, and they all four door.

I visited my father in the hospital today. He has some kind of infection in his throat and is on antibiotics through an IV. After the hospital visit I had plans to play in a park and was anxious to make it a fast visit. Sitting in the hospital room with my father and his wife, my dad takes a business call and is quickly distracted with work on his laptop. i send my "friend" the following text message:

"This is taking longer than expected. My dad's the kind of jackass who works from his hospital bed. I'm embarrassed. lol"

Well, I SENT IT TO MY DAD!!!! I accidentally sent the text to my dad. I was sweating! Thank Gaga the doctor came to interupt the phonecall! I stood up and grabbed his phone excusing my behavior with "I nEeD tO UsE yoUr PhoNE!!" i deleted the message but i feel as if my step mom might have a connected messaging thing, if that exists?! fuckkkkk. at least he didn't read it out loud to the room or address the matter. april fools? hehe...

As i left the hospital, this lady in the elevator loudly told me that i was gorgeous and that its rare to see people that are as beautiful as me. :D

I love herrrrrrrrr.

I'm not pregnant, I'm just thirsty.

My last post was from last night. I guess i fell asleep typing it. i'm not going to worry about capitalizing my "i"s. k?

I went into a fur store today. we walked into this tiny room with a man at a desk, and he asked "how may i help you?" and my friend said "we just wanna look at the furs." lol so he unlocked the chamber of furs for us to go into. its was beautiful. i hate to say it. the dyed fur was sad cause it looked trashy and fake and why kill an animal to make a real fur coat that looks like a fake one? there was this beautiful trench with this huge fur collar, that if popped, would tower 2 feet behind me! the man appeared out of nowhere to breath on us, "can i help you find something?" i replied, "I'm looking for a cloak. A long cloak, preferably black, either completely fur or just rimmed with it." haha. the man didn't say anything!! he just stood there. like, he looked around but remained totally silent. i made some small talk wih-my freeind and dismissed ourselves with stern departing dialog.

stupid.

At work yesterday, i greeted this fat old hoodrat who (ONE) ignored me. I was done with him. My manager made notion for me to talk to him so i asked him if he was looking for anything particular in a casual man to man kind of way. He belched. (TWO) He belched a nasty ass gargley ass loud ass vomit ass belch. Then walked away.

Like Swear to Gaga, rude. It was disgusting. and rude.

"it was rude, well, forget it."

Living Happily Ever

So this guy i know proposed to this girl i know on friday night. For operation proposal, we decorated a bandshell with rose petals and candles and set his guitar and a rose center stage. A cop went power hung' and threatened to arrest us if we didn't leave immediately. The boys gave him a chill pill and we quickly lit the candles for the scene. A shit tons of their schoolmates and friends came and hid in this park with us and the moment his videographer sister reported the princess said yes, we all cheered and screamed and ran down this hill like crazies to congratulate the surprised fiancé! wonderfully perfect! simply incredible.

honestly, i'm scared. i'm afraid i'll be stuck at home until my grandma's gone, and even then, i'll still feel terrible leaving my mom alone. i don't know what i'm doing about school. i'm completely proactive in the journey, but completely indecisive and poor. in fact, i don't think i can be happy until i stop obsessing over a certain someone. i can't think of how. i'll always wonder why i'm not -

i'll get lost going there.

I don't own a weave but i flip it like a diva.

I'm going to pick up my dad's dog. a dog is a man's best friend, and i want to chill with the dog. i like dogs. yeah i keep it like a secret. early in high school i was liberated with my love for canines and in turn was brutally teased and accused of beastiality. by my preteen besties. rough. ruff! ;D

k that's gay. but not like retarded.

everyone should stop saying "retarded" and take a lesson from Wanda Sykes.

I think the westside of cincinnati is disgusting. never come here unless the government moves you here. Today i was oh so trending down glenwayy avenuee singing along with my oh so chic roison murphey music playing, when i suddenly become the bus stop freeak show. like, i wasn't actin crazy. I guess i just look weird. or maybe people were looking at the bong on my dashboard... whatever. this huge truck pulls up next to me with a fucking confederate flag decal-ed to the back window hatch thing, with a bumper sticker that said, "let's take our country back." like wtf? go back to versailles indiana where no one will see your trash. I hate the confederate flag. like it might as well be a fucking swastika. southern pride? antebellum roots? fuck it. like, i'm half german but i don't heil hitler. The confederate flag is a symbol of racism and inequality. so... get with the times people. If i had balls i would start a new graffiti movement involving glitter. I'd of already covered the local streets signs with sparkle, but the idea of going to jail for gluing glitter to a crosswalk is just sooooooo ridiculous. but something i'd be proud to stand in court for! i'll say i'm doing it for equality. and making cincinnati beautiful.

Late night thinkings and happenings.

i don't feel like talking to anybody right now.

i don't like to be rude. even when its honestly what i want.
do i need to learn to do things i don't want to? or do i need to be assertive and deal with the consequences? there is only one person i know that i would be interested in talking to right now. its interesting how particular people are more appealing to be around in particular moods and contexts. I don't like "going out" to meet guys. that's weirdt. i also do not enjoy talking to guys online. like i do, but i hate not having a damn thing to talk about.

hey man whats up

-hi! not muchh. you?

just chillin watching some tv and winding down
how are you tonight man

-tiredd. i had a long evening. how are you?

good good. getting tired. ha

-have we met in person before?

-lol

i dont believe so

sorry to bother you i suppose

-lol what? you're fine
oh- i thought maybe that was my cue to leave you alone
-haha. nope. what do you wanna talk about?
idk im open for discussion
-gaga.

i'm bored. i don't care. tonight at work i decided i'll be pushing the blue shorts. i just want to see how many people i can get to buy blue shorts. lol

so what do you do?

3:06am

i work, kinda go to school, and do a lot of other stuffff

3:06am

cool

kinda go to school?

lol

3:18am

haha yeah.

what do you do?

3:19am

school work's my biggest thing

oh. what? that's good. 3:23am

3:23am

school and work play the largest part in my life

i don't know if i want kids. I have a slight desire to procreate but if i had a kid i might as well adopt a child. but do i really want to split MY life and raise another human being? i feel i might just want a family because i feel it fights the idea that being gay kills the american dream. do i want the american dream? i have so much to consider.

yep yep

so how are you kinda in school

haha

3:27am

it's comlicated. i'm in the process of transferrig

3:28am

cool from where to where

3:32am

i don't know. do you think i'm cute?

3:32am

yes sir

i don't know what i'm going to do about schooooolllll...

This is a story about Anthony.

Anthony, a young and frail homosexual, stumbles out of his garage lugging a floral print Jordache carpet bag, adjusting his broken sunglasses to shade his sensitive eyes from the afternoon sun. Getting situated in the front seat of his smoky 1995 Spirit, Anthony drowns the sound of chirping birds with "Fuck you very much" by Lilly Allen with his broken radio, held together by a lighter and dimes. Lighting a cigarette, Anthony takes notice of a parade of elementary school children heading straight to the sidewalk at the end of his driveway. Quickly backing out before the train, Anthony notices two more groups of children infesting the neighborhood. Proudly blaring "fuck you" in front of innocence, Anthony rolls past the school to see a woman helping a hobbling crippled child try to get her walker over the curb. With an ash of his dash, Anthony sighed away to puzzle through traffic.

I just wanna make out. what?

I am awake early today because i agreed to take my best boy friend to school across the river this morning for no personal gain or reason. I'm content with the moment and will be going to the gym in a bit with my best girl friend/baughtch, very... tiReD. It is an absolutely prescious day in the methodist's ghettos of garbage-green township's Bridgetown. It's a fucking shit they won't fix the fucking potholes. I'm hyphy, ain't cryin but about to hit that bitch witta bottle heyyyy.

I want to talk about .::*JeWlErY!!*::. - just kidding.-

this is a scene from yesterday that does not show me in a good light:

Me-"I want a donut"

Girl-"FRUIT DONUT."

Me:"Grandma, don't you want some DouGH NuTsss?"

Grandma-"Hey! Yeah i would!"

Me"Yeah? You do want donuts!"

Girl-"That's right."

Grandma-"I'll give you the money, go get what you want!"

Me-"Thanks grandma! (That a girl!)"

HAHAHA! I feel terrible. I hate it. I hope manipulation isn't too heavy on karma. I wanted a fucking blueberry fruit donut, a fucking chocolate ass donut, and when i got there i decided i also wanted a fucking spring sprinkled chocolate iced glazed donut! and i had cake, and double chocolate chip ice cream. Chocolate makes you feel loved. Its like a fact. hfelsie fhewku wyeiwWFEVuweifkw. I'm sorry. those words were products of my fingers slipping on my tears on the keyboard.

thoughts and aggravations dealing with style

Here's the deal with what I think about: Style.

I don't like "fashion dos and don'ts" because they set limitations. Just because some clothing doesn't 'flatter your figure,' it DOESN'T mean you shouldn't wear it. But by wear it, i mean wErk it. I think the only reason to follow stylists' "rules" is to always look attractive. And that's arrogant and slutty. It's fun to play with shapes and silhouettes and to be an object of interest rather than attraction. I believe personal style should be open to less beautiful expressions in order to truly grasp the reflection of the creator.

Which brings me to mall stores.

I work at a chain mall store and absolutely love the seasons I've seen. I personally don't wear much of the brand's clothing. Most of the customers I've interacted with are high schooler's and frat boys' moms. The clothes that never see the clearance rack are all soooo safe to me. I feel major chain stores rule over a lot of young people's personal fashion identity. It's like organized religion; exclusive and constricting. ;D A person's image carries a story. When a brand can sell its name on a cracker, i feel the consumer is forced to wear what the company can get away with. I respect people who shop at second hand stores and independent boutiques because i feel the outlet of expression and physical personality is a lot more divergent and practical.

I want to look like a bad boy. I think.

But like, the kid who can get away with being naughty.

Like the stoned Ke$ha. grody, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

When i get to fashion school i'm sure i'll be called gaudy or tacky. At least once.

:/ & :) I wanna work for haus of gaga.

Fashion

I think fashion is important and powerful.

No matter how different people are, everybody is familiar with the basic silhouettes, shapes, builds, textures, and colors of the human body. Disregarding cultural norms, modesty issues, and weather conditions, why cover the body with something that isn't more interesting or beautiful? I believe that's the only test in the world of fashion. If you'd be more interesting or pretty naked, then save it for a regular day. As far as good tastes go, I feel it's all about style. If the styling is exactly how you want it and you love wearing the outfit, you'll look great. If you don't care and half-ass on styling, you'll make the worst dressed list. I have a lot to say about style and I'll blog about it later. Fashion is fun but can be serious! I understand the power of fashion and that's why I value it. An example, I wore this big, red, white polka-dotted bow tie to a wedding and stirrrredd that mass. They had never seen anything like me! I love it. The attention (positive and negative) I get from wearing a gem sweater is ridiculous! PEOPLE CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU WEAR. When you look interesting or beautiful, people pay attention. When people pay attention, your voice is heard.

Right?

Je$us is neat to me and my friend, like that lady gaga.

I'm taking a shit.

Last night I worked a floorset and got out at like quarter to 2, but at 2 it was 3 because of daylight savings time. thank god. I got home and facebook chatted until the drunken bootycalls started to holler. I called my craziest lesbo bitch to see what she was doing and she came over and helped me pack for chicago. with two rolls of pennies and half a pack of smokes, we decided chicago was out of the question and settled on playing dress up.

In our twisted teenland i dressed up as a woman trying to look like a man.

We decided "we're from st. clair michigan, a little north of detroit. we just moved to cincinnati and are looking for a church open to our bigggg butchhhh LESBIAN lifestyle."

We're on the road by 6:00am and decide to kill some time by buying a disposable camera and photoshooting our ghetto gay asses until church people woke to worship.

By 7, we pussied out, fed the stray cats at speedway and stumbled back home to greet my mother having her morning coffee. Explaining why i was in boyish drag, she coined the moral of this story.

"Don't make fun of religion." (because it's exhausting.)

The End.

Friday, March 12

Last night sucked.

My 59 year old mother went legit cra cra bon craaaazy and i didn't have a car to drive.

I never went to work out, but I did make this FABULOUS caution tape body wrapping shoulder piece. Arriving to the hipsters in the middle of the video's premiere, we awkwardly accepted the role of scratching posts for their jelllicles. Not a single razzi caught the beauty.

After changing outfits on the way to the club, I peacocked my way to the black section to find the perfect twerk spot for me and my bitch. The pants went over terribly, I was wearing miss america pants. I'll fake a photoshoot and put up the pictures from "last night." ;)

so since i can't dress weird and the vaseline&glittered face is getting old, i guess its time to start wearing a veil.

I just saw a fairy.

Do my posts NEED a title?

Tonight is the premiere of Lady Gaga's Telephone video and this is fucking epic.
I woke up at 2:30 today to find my door wide open with all of my lights on, listening to the sounds of my alarm my mother must have set, combined with the death awakening roar of an antique vacuum my mother has decided to use outside my door.
rude.
I see a bland note on my TV saying:
"Hot water heater not working, the mechanic can't fix your car til next week, - a family friend - has died. Love, Mom"

Simple reminder that life sucks. :)
ANYWHO. I'm leaving to work out at 5:45pm sharp. I guess I'm just going for use of the abundance of full mirrors, but after that, shit hits the fan. like splatters. everywhere. like chunks in the mouth.
dramatic?
I have to:
1.) Decide if I'm going to the hipster's premiere party
2.) COME UP WITH SOMETHING TO WEAR
3.) Decide how I'm getting to where ever I'm going
4.) Find money to go to where ever I'm going
5.) Figure out how my outfit will fit through the door

whatever the case may be, I'll have glitter and look fabulous.
If available tonight, I've recruited some friends to take pictures of me and the crew as we walk from our car to the door of the club. HAHA!
live lavishly. rah rah.

1st blog

blog. blog. blog.

i sat in a park today by myself with a blank notebook trying to come up with a reason i had skipped class to do just that. i thought it was interesting.

blog.