143rd Day of the Year

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Happy atheist Mother’s Day

     If there’s one thing I’m extremely proud of, it’s that my parents are both fairly atheistic.
     Growing up in this raped-by-religion world without someone shoving a theology down my throat—especially by my parents—has flung open wide countless doors for my mind to speculate and expand with scientific theories. As long as I can remember, I was always taught to believe science over a story, no matter how many people were whispering it into my ear.

     I laugh when people observe I am close-minded, or if they suggest I only have one view of things. Perhaps I do at times, although I do hope I don’t often come across as only having a single perspective. That alone goes against what my parents raised me to “believe in.” However, I will go on to say that I would rather seem narrow-minded into a scientific view of life than a one constructed of fairy tales.

     Happy Mother’s Day, mom. :)

P.S. My father is in my room as I type this, and asked me if I had seen the religious folks with megaphones last night during our drive through downtown. I answered with a no, and he replied, “Richard Dawkins hasn’t said it yet,”—I am watching “The Root of All Evil?”—“but these people have a mental sickness.”

Darwin Day at Broward College

     February 12^th was Charles Darwin's 201^st birthday. Landing on a Friday, people all over the globe celebrated throughout the weekend for convenience. Proudly, I am not to be excluded from the "festivities" of this holiday.

     The first event Richard Dawkins brought attention to was held at Broward college in Coconut Creek, FL. With my preexisting interest in physical science and Darwinisim, I was particularly excited that an event worth mentioning, first of all mentions no less, by Dawkins' crew, would be located in Florida. I informed my dad of my immense interest the day  I read the tweet. With two weeks notice given to make plans of preparation (who would watch my brother Kirk, etc.), I got the chance for a life changing experience.

 

     I have this thing, if I'm going somewhere important that I know I'll remember for the rest of my life, I'd prefer to be the one driving myself and whoever may be with me. A few months ago when I went to Gainesville with my mom to check out the University of Florida and see a game, I asked if I could drive for this very reason. There's something about knowing I drove myself to an important destination that is too symbolic for me to let go of. It's not about the literal task of driving, but "driving myself to a point of purpose."

     The trip to Gainesville took roughly three hours. This trek down Florida, as opposed to up, took over four, I believe. You would think an hour or so difference isn't much, but actually, maybe you wouldn't if you've driven long distances on four-five hours of sleep and an empty stomach. I didn't realize until Saturday how tiring driving can actually be. My dad pointed out the obvious that has escaped me; you're heavily focusing on the same thing for hours-long intervals, surprisingly more draining than you'd - or maybe just me - expect.

     I was so tired after we left Broward, I fell asleep on the way home with "The High End of Low" blaring through the car's speakers. To further prove how exhausted I was, I have never fallen asleep in the car before in my life, with the single exception of when I dozed off as a child. Even then, I didn't sleep, I was still very much aware. I can also not sleep without white noise, or I thought I couldn't. I actually slept with a fan on my face for most of my lifetime, and I've never taken a single nap in preschool or kindergarten.

     I obviously wasn't texting anyone in particular all day long. Less obviously, I couldn't help but wonder how many chickens died everyday to be used for my lunch, and the lunch of others, from Chicken Kitchen in West Palm Beach.

      "Someone" likes this photo a lot, I particularly don't, but I'm going to post it anyway. I'm in West Palm Beach, the sign in the top right corner proving so made it pretty humorous, I thought, because it was unintentionally captured in the shot. My dad was more concerned about getting a picture with it in the background, but with one effortless try, I nailed it, haha.

 

     Once we had arrived, I knew these were going to be my kind of people.

 

     My dad and the man himself— Charles Darwin!

     He looked a lot shorter from far away, but I'm 5'7", 5'8", so he was pretty tall.

     My dad looking at some organisms, I believe they were krill or something similar. This was set up in proof of evolution, although we didn't need convincing, of course. This, and a few other exhibits were set up to attract the attention of particularly children.

     After reading The Greatest Show On Earth and learning of a large print-out of a severely scaled "Tree of Life", it was a nice surprise to see one in person. Complete with color, pictures, and elaborations, I was impressed. I was not keen on printing out the fifty-something pages it typically requires to piece them all together. Plus, I didn't know what I would do with it once I had completed it.

     My eyes aren't open, but I love this picture. I think because it reminds me of how beautiful a day it was, I look so peaceful and happy. My dream weather is for it to be chilly, windy, but warmly sunny, and that's exactly what it was like that day.

     This was a part of the Animal Adaptations lecture, provided by the Palm Beach Zoo.

     Frontal of my Darwin Day Broward shirt.

     I absolutely adore the end of the Origin of Species, and everything Darwin is and represents. (But the random capitalization - and lack of - of this t-shirt confuses me.)

     All in all, it was an amazing experience that I'll remember for the rest of my life, and I hope I attend many more events on Darwin Day.

Happy Valentine's Day

 

     Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Isn't the valentine above hilarious? I'm not sure how much more appropriate it could get, considering my main interests being in science and evolution. Thanks so much to Vanzetti for sending it my way.

     I also got this infinitely adorable valentine yesterday, how amazing could a guy really get? Actually, I guess no one can really understand exactly what I mean unless I heavily elaborated into embarrassing measures, but just trust me on this one!

     I've never been one to care too much about Valentine's Day. It's always been simply another day, except sometimes my parents give me candy and a card. I think my fondest memories of Valentine's Day are from when I was still in school. In elementary school, I loved making and decorating the heart-shaped envelopes, and picking out a pack of valentines from the store to stuff them with. I always got so nervous when the time came to approach my crush's desk (last, of course), and poke a specific one inside.

     Valentine's Day was especially exciting during middle school. I've still got homemade valentines from my then-closest friends that I've held on to after all these years.

     Middle school was also when I was introduced to "candygrams," a candy rose with a note attached that could be either signed or anonymous, depending on your level of bravery or cruel joke. I once sent one anonymous with a note that said, "Press this against your heart for it to turn to ice." Cleverly snipped from a Bill Cosby line, if you recognize it.

     Candygrams were one of the best things to ever hit my school, I thought, and they were wildly popular the week before Valentine's Day. Once the day arrived, they'd be passed out by student assistants at the end of the school day, going from classroom to classroom with arm fulls. At the time, I hadn't ever felt more loved than the year the student assistants entered my classroom with barely twenty candygrams, and I got over ten of them from various friends and admirers. I was so resented, but I had never been resented for being loved.

     By browsing Facebook or Myspace, it's easy to calculate a ratio of just how many people despise this holiday. I think their hatred towards a half-hearted, silly holiday that only lasts a single day out of the entire year, is really telling of their daily attitude and views on life.

     What's the purpose in being angry or depressed over a holiday based - as we know it now - on love? There isn't a logical one, even if you've just been cheated on by your girlfriend who may or may not be pregnant with your baby, etc., chances are you have something else you can love. The key here that most people miss, however, is that the principle lies in something, not someone. We do not need to be in love to survive, we only convince ourselves we do. We want emotions like love which suffice for our forced desire, and when we don't get what we think we want, we crumble to our childish behaviors by throwing a fit to redeem ourselves. But weakness is rarely redeemable!

     I'm not going to go too in-depth today. Any holiday that's been widely claimed should be spent happily if a majority of your surrounding population is going to be. I've mentioned it before in previous posts, around Christmas I believe, that although a holiday is obviously a symbol for something, sometimes something we don't necessarily agree with, we should all take advantage of the "random" spread of joy. I'm an atheist, and I take advantage of Christmas in the fact that it's a time when my parents are both under the same roof for hours as opposed to minutes. It's one of the best feelings in the world to pretend my life is normal. I felt this today when my mom dropped by, by surprise with an orchid that I have now named Harold, after the horticulturist in Twin Peaks. My parents know me all too well.

My Absolute Favorite Love Song

"Wight Spider" by Marilyn Manson

I’ll build you a shiny / dollhouse or church / where you can shrink
into a tiny wight spider / and gorge on horrid memories / with conceited wings

Smother the past in a cocoon / or me

and I’ll help you move /all the bodies

I’ll possess you but I don’t need you
to be another one of my possessions
I don’t need you to be my possession

And I won’t make you kneel, for anyone but me
Won’t promise a star, don’t promise your soul
We’ll say that we don’t believe

I’ll keep you wet when the world is dry
I can see them coming / I’ll take you back inside
if they came for answers / I’ll wrap my claws around your mouth tight
we’ll consume each other / until there’s nothing left to hide
and they can all drown in our blood

We can’t haunt this home, home anymore
no, no, no, no, no, no
We can’t haunt this home, home anymore
no, no, no, no, no, no
We can’t haunt this home, home anymore
no, no, no, no, no, no
We can’t haunt this home, home anymore
no, no, no, no, no, no

   

Dear President Obama, please recognize Darwin Day

     On and around February 12th people all around the globe gather in conferences, meetings, at zoos, museums, homes, schools, parks, etc., to celebrate the life and work of Charles Darwin, born on the 12th of February in 1809.

     Over a century ago while aboard the Beagle, Darwin began to ponder the inhabitants of Earth. The plants and animals he witnessed could not possibly have been placed here by a supernatural deity, for how would there be more after the initial six days? Why would God place different tortoises or finches on different islands of the same climate, within a close proximity? These are just two of the thoughts that led Darwin to one of science's greatest discoveries.

     On the 24th of November in 1859, On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection was bravely published. Outside of a few copies given away for promotion, every last one of the 1,250 copies published sold at wholesale the very same day.

     Although The Origin of Species has been worked and reworked, edited and reedited into near oblivion, straying far from Darwin's original points, there is no denying that his theories have changed the way we look at science forever. Darwin realized that all living things on our world came about by evolution from a sole ancestor, branching off in a nearly unfathomable amount of branches. And then, we held the concept natural selection.

     To this day, people still deny the theory of evolution. We can only imagine all the horrors Darwin boldly faced after so many years of fearing the turn out his concept would have. His intentions were not to declaim the idea of God, but to persuade the idea of evolution. Without his realizations, studies, clarity, and strength, I'm not sure science would be in the same place it is now, with the same power it rightfully carries. Perhaps it would be different, very different. But maybe it wouldn't be different at all, so why not honor all evolutionary biologists on Darwin Day? Personally, Darwin Day is about unity of all species, especially the one that seems to need it most - Homo sapiens.

     So please, help those already aware and sign this petition urging the United States' wonderful President Barack Obama to publicly recognize Darwin Day. It is so important that the leaders of all nations recognize the importance of science and make our intolerance of religion in science classrooms known. It is highly improbable there is room for God in the universe, but there has been room for science.

     If you are interested in seeking events around your area, you can check out lists here at the International Darwin Day Foundation  and here at RichardDawkins.net.

     (If you sign the petition you may comment this blog or email me letting me know and I will update this post with a link to your blog or personal website of choice. Thank you.)

The end of a decade

     I don't have time right this moment to type out everything I'd like, but I do have a lot of ideas planned to write about to conclude the year 2009 and begin the new decade. I just glanced at the time and realized it's 10 PM, and a tsunami of . . . something just hit me. I cannot describe it in one word, and multiple words wouldn't do it the justice it needs.

     One thing I do know is that by the time the next decade rolls over, I'll have a Ph. D in sociology, maybe even a book published if I work hard enough and people enjoy my work. Another thing I know is how truly terrifying that is.

     So this is it, my last writing of 2009. Deep breaths.

"Find what you are afraid of, face it, and then you won't be afraid of it anymore." - Marilyn Manson

1998, Hit Parader Magazine

Mechanical Animals

(Courtesy of MansonQuotes.com)

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

 [Warning: Contains spoilers.]

I really should have predicted the ending.

All along I related so closely. For example, Charlie's frequent speculation of his psychiatrist's constant questioning of his childhood really hit home.

Why couldn't I place it?

Why couldn't I see where it was all going?

I don't really have an answer, except maybe all victims are weaved through and through like a basket of mystery, seemingly like a person that tries too hard to be something they're not but in reality they are and that's the saddest part, and often they are like wallflowers. Rooms and rooms, fields and fields, of wallflowers.

wall⋅flow⋅er [wawl-flou-er]

-noun

1.

a person who, because of shyness, unpopularity, or lack of a partner, remains at the side at a party or dance.

I realized there is perks of being a wallflower, of being observant when others cannot possibly be as much as you because you're subconsciously blocking out the past, which naturally leaves extra room for the present, and the future. It also leaves room for constant, unexplained panic. Something I hate.

Too much of something is dangerous to a damaged person.

I shouldn't have an episode just from losing my wallet. I don't care about the money, I never have on the various occasions of loss.

I have always cared about losing something I'm not expected to lose, like my permit or my library card. I guess that's how I perceived my innocence, or my virginity to oral sex. It wasn't supposed to be lost, it was supposed to be given. But it wasn't.

The worst feeling is losing something someone I love gave me. I'm grateful I can't think of any extreme instances off the top of my head right now, hopefully that means I haven't lost much. I think if I ever lost something expensive or really meaningful, I'd seriously consider killing myself, or at least return to self mutilation at the minimum. The sad part is, is that a few items in my possession have this label that could lead me back, or lead me to death. I know I’m labeling these things as “trigger items”, something I want to work past.  It's good to care about your belongings, especially if they were a gift, but not to the degree of suicide if they are lost.

I remember once when I was a child I was at the beach with my mom, who I then still considered my aunt because my biological mother was still around ruining my childhood and filling my head with lies.

I was swimming with my mom in the ocean, and she asked me to hold her snorkeling mask. Somewhere along the way, I lost it because I was holding it under the water and not thinking about it. I didn't even realize it had floated away until she asked for it back. She was really disappointed, and that crushed me.

For years that memory has plagued me, it's probably something I should talk about to someone considering how much it haunts me. It seems so silly though, so irrational, to worry over something I know she's sub-consciously forgotten.

I'm talking about the same woman who told me that if I totaled her car learning to drive, she wouldn't care, she could always get a new one in the most extreme case. Material things can always be replaced in her world, and I completely understand that, yet still this loss bothers me to this day well over a decade later.

That event—along with other things lost, or rather, stolen—makes me never want to lose anything ever again. I never want to have to see that expression of disappointment in telling someone I lost something they gave me, or trusted me with.

Going back to The Perks, my best friend in the entire world—well, one of the two, love you Bianca—Dave gave me this book for Christmas, saying he knew I'd love it because he had read it before. I tried not to think much of it because I know how non-chalant Dave is about things, but now that I discovered The Perks's ending, I cannot resist wondering why he suggested it to me, why I could personally relate, especially because of a passage I'll quote at the end of this blog post.

The book affected me profoundly, and I wonder if he knew it would in the sense I'm quietly referring to. Regardless of whether he'll ever know how much it affected me or how much I related on a level I desperately needed to, I'll always know he knows why I could have, and that's all I’ll ever need. I need someone else to know my pain, my suffering, but that someone has to be someone I'm not paying at hourly intervals, someone that's not dating me, or someone that respects me rather than fears me.

More than anything, I think this book taught me more about how grateful I am for my friends that really know my vulnerabilities.

I have had many best friends in my life, but right now, at this particular time in my life, I have the very best because of the things I've let them know.

     It's like if I blamed my aunt Helen, I would have to blame her dad for hitting her and the friend of the family that fooled around with her when she was little. And the person that fooled around with him. And God for not stopping all this and things that are much worse. And I did do that for a while, but then I just couldn't anymore. Because it wasn't going anywhere. Because it wasn't the point.

     I'm not the way I am because of what I dreamt and remembered about my aunt Helen. That's what I figured out when things got quiet. And I think that's very important to know. It made things feel clear and together. Don't get me wrong. I know what happened was important. And I needed to remember it. But it's like when my doctor told me the story of these two brothers whose dad was a bad alcoholic. One brother grew up to e a successful carpenter who never drank. The other brother ended up being a drinker as bad as his dad was. When they asked the first brother why he didn't drink, he said that after he saw what it did to his father, he could never bring himself to even try it. When they asked the other brother, he said that he guessed he learned how to drink on his father's knee. So I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we com from, we can still choose where we go from there.

- The Perks of Being a Wallflower

"Work out your own salvation. Do not depend on others."

     I am so overwhelmingly happy because now I have seen the truth.

     I don't believe in things happening for a reason. I wholeheartedly believe things simply occur, and people staple a reason to events to provide comfort for themselves. They're not weak, they just haven't been enlightened. Hopefully this paragraph will do that for a few more people, I've affect some in the past. My point is this realization could be perceived as this concept, but don't confuse yourself willingly.

     My current dilemma is this: I no longer have a television in my room because I got rid of it when I repainted and reorganized a month ago. I didn't want to make room for it, and I realized a television in the bedroom is a disturbance (thanks mom). I reflected on my television use prior to redecorating, and discovered it was always on, but it was never my main focus. I would use the computer—often my desktop and laptop simultaneously—and have the television blaring a repeating Roseanne DVD. It constantly rumbled around with my focus, rendering it counter-productive to have both within the same four walls. Or in my room's case, five.

     This decision means I cannot watch television unless it's in the living room. Since we've gotten a new television a few weeks ago, the living room is always occupied by my father's girlfriend on a nightly basis, for the most part. This is frustrating; we don't get along and we never speak as casually as offering each other a simple greeting. We're so below that at this point.

     This situation places me in my room from 5 PM, sometimes 5:30 PM if I'm lucky and she works a little later, until as late as 11 PM most nights. My ultimate choices may seem extreme, but avoiding her as much as possible and taking meals in my room is the price I gladly pay so I don't face the possibility of a relapse triggered by her verbal abuse. Or something much, much worse, fighting with my dad. (I hope you see the meaning in what I just said.)

     Christmas was yesterday of course, and my brother got a Wii. This now also places him in the sport of fighting for the use of the television. (I'm hoping they move the Wii to his room like it's been mentioned.) His ammo of reasoning is he has to go to bed early, or that he doesn't get to play games during the week due to his studies being so poor in grade point average. I'm not going to go into how this is no one's fault but his own because it's already an obvious idea.

     Tonight after I went to the doctors, my dad, brother, and I went to Best Buy and Target to spend some gift card money. I guess we mainly went for me (even though it felt like the complete opposite, I was alone the majority of both excursions), since my brother had already been out shopping all day with my dad's girlfriend. At Best Buy I bought Marilyn Manson's Guns, God, and Government Live in L.A. on Blu-Ray, and asked my dad if he wanted to watch it later tonight. He said no, probably not, because Kirk—my brother—would be playing his new game when we got home, and after, his girlfriend would be watching television late into the night (even though she has a television in her room, of course, but the story never changes regardless of the character).

     I'll be upfront about my immaturity— I was extremely disappointed, and besides what I'm about to mention, it's like an extra twist of the knife knowing I don't get to spend time with my dad because of someone else's selfishly thoughtless actions.

     I don't like having to stay up late just to be able to watch something on television—that is by that time on its second or third repeat of the night—like a pathetic rodent that hunts for food and mischief once everyone in the house is asleep. I suppose that's metaphorically how I feel, like a rat in constant hiding. If seen, I'm chased back into my hole with threats, shouting, etc., all the while trying to avoid the preset traps. I wish I was a mouse, because then no one would step on me.

     Solitude is my only safety.

     To remain safe and unscathed by others I have to be alone, and that has torn me apart for so long.

     Tonight I got to speculating though, probing the situation for glimmers of positivity.

I realized that when I am sheltering myself within my room, I have to do things besides watch television, play video games, or socialize.

     What do I do, you may wonder. Well for starters, I read, I write, I cite books, I research sociology, influences, films I haven't seen, and books I haven't read yet. I am forced into a creative cycle on a near daily basis, and that is my newly discovered relief. While the occupants of the living room are spending their time on wasteful activities, I am being productive, and my only reluctance is because sometimes I would rather be watching one of the films I've researched.

     In the end there's no reason to be angry.

     While they're watching movies (not films), reality television, or playing video games, I'm doing one or many of the aforementioned activities. I am grateful for this forced situation of productivity, I am no longer angry.

     In the end, I will be blossoming and they will be rotting.

W-O-W

     No one will ever know the truth within this secret.

     I refuse to enlighten the world, like you refuse to enlighten me.

     I'll never be sure as to why those that are supposed to be hating me have tried contacting me this holiday to wish me well. The angry, ridiculous part of me yells convincing concepts such as, "They just want to mess with you, to get them back on your mind". Okay, sure conscience, that could be true. But they'd have to be thinking of me first, and that terrifies me.

     I've never been in love I've never been in love I've never been in love I've never been in love I've never been in love I've never been in love, but I know I loved you, I loved you so willingly. You ruined everything we could have become.

     The most important thing for you to remember however, is I am never going to be sorry.

Happy holidays everyone~!

     First of all, I want to say happy holidays, regardless of what you're celebrating. While I'm the type that gets The God Delusion (no one saw the irony in that except for me, until I pointed it out) for Christmas, I truly believe the world shouldn't need a holiday to love one another and wish good things upon fellow man. So as if it were any other day of the year, I hope today has treated you as wonderfully as you deserve.

     My family does celebrate Christmas, although non-religiously. Our holiday consists of gathering under one roof and spending time with each other after exchanging gifts, which is the smallest part of what matters to me today. From the honesty within my heart, the best part about today, and any other holiday or special occasion, is having both of my parents under one roof for an extended period of time. That means more to me than anything because it's a rarity, I live with my father and my mother is biologically my aunt, so I don't see both everyday.

      I am still sick today, but I woke up around 9:30 AM and ate a cinnabun with pecans on it. My mom arrived a little while later, and then the gift unwrapping began.

     My brother got a lot of nice gifts, his main gift from our parents being a Wii. He was really excited, they had built him up to believe that he'd be spending his Christmas money this weekend on one, and now he can just spend it on games. I'm really happy for him.

     I got a lot of nice things, too much in my opinion since I didn't do anything besides exist this year to deserve them. I actually didn't expect any of the wonderful gifts I received, except maybe the book I already mentioned and Star Trek on Blu-Ray. I was pleasantly surprised. If you're interested, here's a list I compiled earlier today for a post on Babalon—

- Dell Laptop

- Hello Kitty laptop bag from Sanrio Luxe

- Pandigital Panitouch 8" Photo Frame

- Hello Kitty boots "w/ fur" (so amazing!)

- Hello Kitty pajamas

- Hello Kitty clipboard

- Hello Kitty nail file

- Giant Hello Kitty coloring book/sketch sheets (literally, this thing is bigger than an opened calendar)- Hello Kitty gumball machine

(yes, I do enjoy Hello Kitty, lol)

- White and rainbow plush throw blanket

- The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins

- Nightlight by The Harvard Lampoon

- The Perks of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

- Collage Collector film strip photo frame

- 3-D frame that's decorated and says "believe", "serenity", "patience", "wisdom", & "truth"

- Star Trek on Blu-Ray

- Tons of candy yum yum yum

- $100 cash, $50 Target gift card, & $15 Starbucks gift card

EDIT: Not sure how I could have forgotten:

- Year pass to all Universal theme parks

- Year pass to Sea World, Aquatica, and Busch Gardens

     Now it's almost time for dinner, ham, potatoes, etc. Once again, happy holidays everyone, and remember what's important—family. Maybe not your biological family, but whoever you deem your family. For me, my friends are my family. Love you all~.

     Also, check out my mom's new blog, "Life After Success, Triumph, & Love"!

P.S. Thank you mom & dad.

Hello world, what joy it is being sick~!

     Hello world!

     If you know me, you know I am often ill— or so it feels like it anyway. Just a few months ago I had H1N1, more affectionately and miscorrectly identified as "Swine Flu" by the media and commercials directed towards terrified consumers. I thought one serious illness a year was enough, but apparently my predictions were wrong. I'm not sure what I've had for the past few days, but it hasn't been pleasant, that’s for sure. Last Monday when I was at my mom's picking up LMFAO tickets—the show was great by the way, despite Firestone being packed to capacity —she had the flu, so perhaps that's what swept me under the weather.

     I've been coughing a lot today, so I've been hoping that it's a sign my body is trying to cough it all out and I'll feel much better tomorrow. I sure hope so because I've felt increasingly worse every day so far. Earlier this evening I felt pain in my lower back from continuous coughing, something my friend Bianca related to. It was truly unlike anything I've ever experienced before, and definitely one of the most painful things I've ever felt in my life. I felt how pregnant women describe their aching backs after several months of pregnancy, haha.

     If wellness greets me tomorrow I plan on restarting my Adderall again and getting heavily back into studying like I was before all this mess. I've been reading some since I've been sick, but I've read fiction for the most part, namely Nicholas Sparks’s The Last Song. Laugh all you want, but I justify it with feeling obligated since I saw the movie being shot in Savannah this past summer. Usually I find mindless fiction a complete waste of time unless it's something like Lolita or Animal Farm, both works of fiction with a meaning deeper than just "teenage love”. Sparks is a decent story teller, although somewhat repetitive in his descriptions and The Last Song is fairly unbelievable when it comes to the back story of the main character Ronnie. Regardless, it's been entertaining, and I'll admit it has fed into the female within me by teasing me with it's details of a perfect romance that doesn't exist.

     Other than aforementioned title, the only thing I've peeked into after finishing Lolita has been The Wasteland by T. S. Eliot. I've read I and II a few times so far, it's very good. I’m excited to read the rest of his work once concentration floods back into my senses.

     Besides reading I've watched quite a few movies since we got Netflix a week or two ago with our new TV and Blu-Ray player. Since I've been sick, I've watched: Super Size Me, Pee-Wee's Big Adventure (had never seen it before, my parents deprived me), Confessions of a Shopaholic (sucked), Lisa Lampanelli: Take It Like a Man, Fellini's 8 1/2 (have to watch the rest of it still), Eraserhead, and Bill Cosby: Himself. I've definitely kept myself occupied, haha.

     I braved the cold world today to holiday shop for my friends, I wish I could talk about what I got them but some of them read this and I don’t want to spoil their surprises. I'll have to wait until they've opened their gifts to tell you guys! (And I definitely paid the price when I got home for daring venture out of the house, haha.)

Holiday List/Wish List

Folks have been asking me what I want for the holidays, but like usual I don't deserve a thing. I love to give to others, but I always count myself last in everything. Regardless, I just don't see how a cluster of hollow holidays at the end of what we deemed a lapse of time equals getting gifts for often, no reason.

Anyway, due to relentless badgering (I know, it's just out of love), here is a list of things I would enjoy.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/registry/wishlist/3PLHWTWFL2WOB

It's listed on Amazon because I already had a "wish list" going, and it was fairly simple to add to or edit. I've added notes to many of the things on the list, as well as priority. Be sure to check it out with the option "list highest to lowest priority" selected.

9/11 & Current Events

I got to thinking about how I should comment on current events regularly on COSA18 to create a "time stamp" of sorts if it's ever read years later. I personally would think it'd be neat to read COSA18 five years from now and say upon reading an entry about a certain musical artist, "Oh yeah, I remember the 46th time Kanye West was an asshole!" You catch my drift, I'd imagine. I'm not going to talk about him right now though, except for the fact that I think it's really awesome that Obama called him a jackass. (Like Chelsea Handler said, I wonder if he'll retort with "President Obama hates black people!")

What I do want to talk about though, is September 11th. I didn't blog about it this past Friday, when I should have. For weeks prior to the anniversary, it was on my mind. Throughout the actual day I prayed for the people that lost their lives and those that are blessed to still be with us. I think a lot of us forget about the people that survived, who are still suffering from the terrorist attack eight years ago. At least those that died that day (or shortly after) are at peace now.

I wish 9/11 had never happened, but there's nothing that will ever change that. I'd like to believe that it's made our country stronger, and more unified, but I don't really know. The most important thing is to never forget what happened, and what we all endured that day as Americans.

If you're curious...
I was at school on September 11th, 2001, and in the fourth grade. I remember coming back to my homeroom from another class and passing the TV that was on, which was unusual, but I didn't think much of it.

In passing, I saw burning buildings and assumed a building was on fire downtown (I lived in Tampa, which has decently-sized buildings). I didn't give it a second thought, but then, as you know, things got serious. Kids started getting picked up by their parents, my teacher started crying, announcements over the intercom echoed throughout the school at fifteen minute intervals about things I can't even recall. The adults around me were starting to panic because we all lived and were currently located so close to a military base, and us kids didn't know what was even happening.

I don't remember seeing the second plane crash into the towers on the television. It might had already happened by the time I walked into homeroom, or I could have just missed it.

I also wasn't one of the kids that got picked up. I didn't know for the entire day what had happened, and I don't even remember how and when it was explained to me later on, if it even was that day. Honestly I don't even remember the moment I found out what really happened.

Still to this day, eight years later, I watch specials on TV about the tragedy and breathlessly whisper by reflex, "Oh my god," when I see those planes enter the buildings that they did. I cannot hold in my words expressing my shock, and I cannot hold back my tears.

Tonight I think I'll light a white candle for a while, in memory of everything that happened that day. I remember my biological mother lighting white candles and placing them in the window at some point after 9/11. I wonder if people still do that all these years later? Do you?

World Suicide Prevention Day

Today is the official "World Suicide Prevention Day".

If you ever have thoughts of suicide, please call 1-800-SUICIDE (United States). SuicideHotlines.com is also a great website for specific area hotlines too.

(I wish I had more information on hotlines outside of my country, but I'm sure with a quick visit to Google you could find something easily. Take the few extra minutes to find a number - it could mean your LIFE.)


I have attempted suicide a few times, but with the love of a friend and with the care of doctors, I survived. At the time I hated every minute of it; doctors locking me away, friends always prying into my personal life. However, due to a frightening event and better skills in dealing with life in positive ways, I realize life is worth living. On February 27th, 2008 my house was broken into, and I was home alone. I truly believed that in a matter of minutes a gun would be pointed at my face. I begged the 911 operator for help to arrive faster, in between my repents. What scared me the most is not that I'd be leaving my family, my dog, or my boyfriend. What scared me the most was that my life was about to end and I had no control over it.

I cut myself only once after that. Since then, I have been clean from self mutilation. I realized that I didn't want to die, and my life almost ending by someone else's hand woke me up to that realization.

So use my life and live vicariously - realize that life is worth living.