Journalism? Teacher? Whatever.

So, the other day, I got a brochure from Edmonds CC, and I was going through it, and all the classes that I got excited about were Writing related. Besides the Greek History and Art classes, when I say art, I don't mean me doing the art, but learning about it. It got me seriously thinking, what if I went for journalism? I write, I read CNN on my phone when I'm bored. I could do it. It would also allow me to travel, you know if I work for a major player in the journalism field. I'm not talking about tv journalism, because me on tv would be bad. I talk so fast, people don't understand me. If I was a journalist, I could potentially raise awareness of the things that irk me. I mean really get to me, like how people want to go to OTHER countries to help children, when there's plenty in the US that need help too. The only thing is, if I was a journalist, it would be much harder for me to become a foster mom. Well, not necessarily become one, but be one. I wouldn't be around as much if I was say, an English teacher. I'm still fighting with that. I'm getting pulled in fifty thousand different directions.

I stand still, and I feel my heart being tugged toward becoming an English teacher. But the thing is, I don't think I would make a very good teacher. I'm not very patient. Teenagers should be able to turn in work when it's due, should know how to respect people, should be able to write in complete sentences and a lot of them don't. I would be at my wits end with my class, all the time. I wouldn't care if they had an F, I wouldn't allow them to turn in late work, unless they were absent. They would all hate me. I know it. They would egg my house in the middle of the night. I know they would. I'm the kind of person who won't take crap from people who should know not to give it, unless the expect to shovel it. At a certain point teens should realize a couple key things about life. 1) If you want to be treated like a grown up, act like one. 2) Excuses are for the weak minded. If you didn't do homework, just say I didn't do it. If you didn't read the book, don't try to convince a teacher you did, just say, I didn't read it. It's not that hard. Teachers can see through anything, and if you can manage to lie to them with a straight face,and they believe you completely, maybe you should consider joining the CIA. 3) Learn how to grin and bare it. Talking back isn't going to get you anywhere. 4) Respect is what will be what causes a person, namely a teacher, to bend the rules just once for you. Not an attitude.

In situations where students are complete assholes, I don't blame the parents. I blame the kid. If you know me well, you would automatically assume I had good parents, but I didn't, and I don't. I turned out just fine. So did my brother. Things like this, are because the person made the choice to be who they are, same with those evil teens. If you ask me, the most horrible thing to ever do to a teenage student is to call their parents or email them about their behavior. Talk to the student, until they want you to shut up about it, if they know you will keep them after class and lecture them everyday, they will stop being assholes because they don't want you to keep them from talking to their friends between classes. Idk maybe I would make a good teacher...I know I want to write though.

It's 9:49, and I feel like writing.

It's never enough to say I love you,
It's never enough to say I've tried,
It's hard to believe, that there's no way out,
for you and me.
It seems to be, the story of our lives.
Nobody wins when everyone is losing.
-Theory of A Deadman.

That is an amazing band. They should be more popular than they are. Sucks when you play real music, when a vast majority of the population thinks "real" music is Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus. I'm going to start changing my library around more. I have discovered all these amazing bands, I'd rather listen to, compared to the other stuff I have. I love music, I think the world would be even worse off without it. I will always listen to music, I will always give every singer and band a chance.

Today has been a long day. I woke up and made brownies, cleaned the motor home, cleaned my room, trimmed flowers, picked flowers, mowed the lawn, cleaned the kitchen, showered, and watered the lawn. I worked out for like five minutes, then decided I was too gross to even work out, so of course I had to take a shower. I was covered in pieces of dead grass, and dirt. A shower was much needed. I'm going to let Precious sleep with me tonight, I think. She deserves it. Twinkle can stay out of my room. With that, I am going to bed. This blog doesn't have a point. I will most likely delete it some where down the road.

Broken Necklace!

Something horrible happened at four in the morning. I was laying in bed, and Twinkle was driving me crazy, so I sat up and my cross necklace somehow managed to get attached to my pillow, so I was sitting in bed, with my necklace choking me. I went to take it off and the chain broke, and my cross flew across my bedroom. I was half asleep, so it didn't dawn on me then. I think something threw my cross. I mean I was at the top of my bed, trying to get it off the pillow, and the next thing I know, I'm looking all over my bed for it and can't find it. It should have just fallen behind me, or into the pillow case. I wake up this morning trying to find it, and I got out of my bed, and I noticed it by my door. Unless my stupid kitten found it and decided to play with it, it shouldn't have been all the way over there. Needless to say, I need to raid my aunts jewelry box for a silver chain, because ever since Precious slept in my room, she would stare at nothing all the time. Near the ceiling. I get weird feelings in my room sometimes too. I don't think there's any evil things in it, but still. It's creepy sometimes.

On a more lighter note, I started working on my book again. It's going pretty good. On a sad note, my best friend is leaving for Mexico today at 3:30, and won't be back until August 11th. Such a lonely few weeks I have ahead of me.

:)

Life is good.

Shameful Shameful!

I haven't written in almost a month. That is a crime I reckon! I stopped biting my nails. Yay for Kate! They feel a bit odd though, they feel fake or something and I want to just rip them off. I haven't bitten them for two weeks. :D

Another thing is I have been quite addicted to Doctor Who. I've watched about 32 episodes. That's about I don't know 25 hours of The Doctor! It is a horrible, terrible, absolutely ridiculous new addiction. It needs to stop. I will stop watching it when I get to season five...or was it seven? I'm not sure. I'm in season three right now. :)

I haven't really worked on my book lately either. I've added a page maybe. It's this weird feeling I've managed to catch. I know pretty much everything that will happen in the next thirty pages or so, maybe up to fifty, therefore my brain feels there is no need to sit and type it all out. It is very odd I know. Jules is going to see Spencer with some girl in town, and she's going to get a little bit mad, then she's going to find out it has something to do with the investigation. A little while after that, she's going to get to help with said investigation of the big bad drug cartel, and something is going to happen, like along the lines of the bad guys finding out there's a wire, or Jules and Spencer blowing their cover. Then there's going to be a huge chase where they run all over Los Angeles, (wow my browser says that's not a word. HAHAHA.) and in the end I have pretty sure I'm going to kill him. But Spencer has managed to become my favorite character. But Spencer and Jules aren't meant to be together, her and Charlie are. Happy ever after they will be. After that, I'm not really sure what will happen though. After Spencer dies. Because people are going to want Jules head. Maybe I should just have Jules see him running from the people actually, that way I don't make it more complicated. That sounds better. I have almost forty pages. Yep. okay bye.

Indecisive.

I have been thinking about my future, and it seems every day I come up with something else I could end up doing in the end. It is beyond frustrating. I think I've decided I want to be an interior designer, and I find myself saying that if I get a tattoo on the back of my neck, my students could see it if I wear my hair up. WHY SHOULD I BE THINKING ABOUT STUDENTS? I thought I had my path set, interior designer. Bam. Done. The end. Nothing else to decide. But oh no, everyday it seems I sit and wonder if I will regret designing in the long run, because I am not doing what I prepared myself to do for most of my life. I think I'm more leaning toward being a designer because they make bank. In order to live the life I want to live comfortably, I need to make bank. The probability of finding a rich man isn't in my favor. To be a foster mom and adopt kids, and have my own kids which could amount to more than I could have even imagined, I need to have a substantial income, and as an interior designer and as a business woman, I could do that. I could be pulling in more money than I thought I ever could, and providing above and beyond for my kids. That is what I want to be able to do. I don't want their lives to even resemble my childhood in any way, shape, or form.

Don't get me wrong, I can see myself designing just fine. I can picture myself owning my own firm, I can picture myself cooking dinner for half a dozen kids, and being a designer is ridiculously flexible. Some days I can see myself running around town looking for the perfect piece for my vision, and other days it's all about being in front of the blackboard constantly telling people to zip it. And I don't think I can do the other thing. It's the most confusing constant thought I have. Whenever I start to write it down, I feel like I'm being stupid for even thinking for one second that I couldn't design. I become like 110 percent sure that's what I want. Then later it's as if this switch goes off and I start wondering if I should be a teacher, I've wanted to be one since I was like seven. Now I'm just ready to throw in the towel, and give up on everything. It's not like I've wanted to be a designer for years and years. I just like matching things, and the idea of making a house a home. I don't know anymore. I'm ready to just say screw it. I mean I can't even bring myself to fill out the application to the art institute anymore. I wanted to, I did, but now I'm slowly thinking it's not something I could manage. The whole idea of going to a four year college, wasn't even in my mind. It was going to be community college at Edmonds, then off to Western after I got my AA. Now just the idea of over 90 grand just to go to school is giving me a heart attack. My aunt is all why would you want to be in debt now? I'm like I didn't plan to be, but most people go into debt to go to school. All of my teachers were paying off student loans. I could potentially qualify for thousands of dollars in grants and financial aid. I need to apply to the AI just to see if I could do it and my aunt won't stop telling me it's a bad idea. I should just move to Seattle and live on campus, and work. I could do it. I could do work study and have a full time job just fine. I mean, who needs sleep. I get by on five hours every now and again. I just have no idea what to do anymore. I need to make a list of the pros and cons of my career choices. That's what I need to do. I also need to pee...

You're So Beautiful.

Written for: Mona. :)


Your smile competes with the sun,
you shine brighter than the stars above.
You're so beautiful.
Don't make a liar out of me.
You're so beautiful.
Things like this don't leave my lips unless I mean it.
You are so beautiful.

Don't let the world tell you who you are supposed to be,
they aren't the brightest stars in the sky.
If you let them they will make you crazy,
fill your head with lies.
Be who you are, it brings smiles to so many faces.
Don't lose faith and give in like the masses.
You are so beautiful.

Your smile competes with the sun,
you shine brighter than the stars above.
You're so beautiful.
Don't make a liar out of me.
You're so beautiful.
Things like this don't leave my lips unless I mean it.
You are so beautiful.

Your smile competes with the sun,
you shine brighter than the stars above.
You're so beautiful.
Don't make a liar out of me.
You're so beautiful.
Things like this don't leave my lips unless I mean it.
You are so beautiful.


Don't let the world tell you who you are supposed to be,
they aren't the brightest stars in the sky.
If you let them they will make you crazy,
fill your head with lies.
Be who you are, it brings smiles to so many faces.
Don't lose faith and give in like the masses.
You are so beautiful.
You are so beautiful.

Writer's Block, Why Must You Taunt Me?

I hate it. I just realized I haven't worked on my book in over a month, I haven't written any epic songs for who knows how long. No matter the subject, even when I get up enough courage to put it down on paper. It is ridiculous. My current book seems like a distant memory of a girl who didn't know enough, and couldn't remember enough to go back to her normal life. It's frustrating. I don't think about it anymore, really. Unless I hear the name Charlie, or Lucas, or Tyler. I flash back to where I think I left off. That flash soon fades into nothingness in the area my brain has managed to manifest as the scary black hole. All the forgotten passions rest there, they come back to the surface every once in a while, when I get my fill, off they go back to where they have decided to stay. In the big scary black hole of nothingness. My inspiration, I think, has faded. Like every other book I have started, and stopped. I think the count is seven. Yes, SEVEN. Seven half finished books call my hard-drive home. There was the girl who lived in California who became pregnant. There was the girl who was a foster child in New York, and got adopted. There was the girl from the small farming town, where everyone bought everything at Costco who went off to California to make her dreams come true. There was the girl who felt like she was drowning in her life and ran off to London. There were the girls that all had issues, and tried to get over them all, and become friends and have normal lives. There was the woman on the cruise ship that sank, and she found two adorable girls who lost their parents and took them in. Then there's Jules, the girl that had every single memory, every dream, every part of her past life erased, because she tried to take the coward's way out of her hell.

I think I must get bored with my story lines? My cat is clawing the chair and attacking my pants. HA. Maybe I should just toss some other first person POV into my Jules book. Maybe toss a little bit of Charlie all up in that. Writing as a feller is very entertaining. I think I will try that. That may have been the key to unleashing the evil miniature person in my brain that is blocking my creativity. Who knows. Wish me luck.

The Undeniable Mountain in the Road

There is one in front of me. But don't worry, I'm going to bust out my dynamite very soon and blow it up! May 22nd, I do believe my life is going to change. I don't care what my aunt says. I want to go to the Art Institute. Get on with my life. Design design design. I am going to the Art Institute. I am going to move out. I am going to make it on my own. If I work my bahookey off, I can graduate with my bachelors in Interior Design in three years, and have a job making over thirty grand a year in three and a half. I will be going to school in the same environment as my career, so the transition would be like butter. I will figure out how to pay for school, financial aid, loans. I will do work study, and I will find a part time job. These are my goals I want to achieve by Spring Term. Oh, and getting a license. That is a big one. I plan to come home and go to church still every wednesday. Got to get a car to do that...I will stop convincing myself that my aunt needs me around. She's a grown women, she can take care of herself.

Wish me luck.

The Price Of Beauty.

I have been enjoying sitting back and taking in the scenes from Jessica Simpson's, The Price of Beauty for the last few months. She goes to different countries and discovers what is beautiful to the women of said country. In Thailand, tan skin is looked down upon because it is a red flag to being poor, the tan people work in the fields, hence they are not as well off as the lighter skinned people. In Uganda, being fat is beautiful, before a women is to be married she will actually go into a fattening hut and gain weight for two months prior to her wedding. In India, practically every single person finds themselves beautiful, because in their culture beauty comes from within, and is expressed on the outside. In Brazil, people flaunt what they have, whether it's a thin body, with fake boobs, or a semi chubby body with a few rolls and legs with cellulite, or a extremely hairy man's body in an extremely tiny speedo. The country, that I think, is most like America in what they find to be beautiful is France. Thin models that look like Skeletor, who eat next to nothing, and all this has got me thinking about the girls I know, and that I see.

Up to 70 percent of girls that are at normal weight, believe they are overweight in America. Only 2 percent of women in America actually think of themselves as beautiful, and this is just ridiculous. All my friends that know me pretty well, know that I have a slight issue with loving myself and how mirrors are practically my best friend, and how I know that I am beautiful, and if someone says I'm not I shake it off, and say they don't know what beautiful is. To me, everyone is beautiful. In my mind, I feel that voicing that I think I'm beautiful, with all 165 lbs of me, on a good day, my hybrid nose, my size 9 waist, my curves, my boring brown eyes, my muscular build, my ridiculously short calves, will show other girls, whether younger or older than me, that they, too, are beautiful. Did I mention my ears are small and slightly pointed and that I wouldn't trade them for anything?

The stupid idea that blonde, thin, tall and tan is beautiful in America, needs to be shattered. I, for one, would rather be average height, brown hair, brown eyes, have my curves and sport my unique facial features than just "blend in" with the crowd. I have never been mistaken for someone else, I have never had someone come up behind me, and touch my arm, and then say, "sorry, I thought you were someone else," and I like being that way. The media use to make me feel fat, or ugly, but a few years ago I got over that. Girls just need to stand in front of their mirror, every single day, and tell themselves, OUTLOUD, that they are beautiful. One day, you will stop doing it, and realize it is because you don't need to be reminded that you are before you leave for work, school, whatever in the morning, in your heart, in your soul, you KNOW that you are a beautiful piece of art, and no one can take that away from you. Not a girl at school, that just "blends in" because she has been brought to believe that blonde, and thin is beautiful, not that cute boy, you have been crushing on since 7th grade, not even the girl you thought was your best friend that talked behind your back. Once you love yourself, and are confident in yourself, people will see that, and want to be more like you, and you don't need someone else's permission to be beautiful. If you really do need someone to tell you, let me. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.

When certain runners up from American Idol, Jordin Sparks, and Jennifer Hudson, were in the news and releasing cd's and being nominated for Grammy's, and were NORMAL women, I was ready to shout it from the roof tops. Then what always happens with people that are famous and are "overweight" happened. They started loosing. I was browsing Youtube, and found Jordin's video for Battlefield, and part of me wanted to jump into that video and strangle her. She had dropped at least twenty pounds since her first CD. I was watching TV one day, and Jennifer Hudson popped up on a commerical. Guess what she is now a spokesperson for, WEIGHTWATCHERS. They are not at the obese, loose weight or you will die, percentile of the USA. So why loose weight? Because to America that is beautiful. To young impressionable girls, that will be what they think is beautiful. To me, that is the most outlandish bull I have ever heard. The girl who played Precious, in the movie, the media is convinced she will never be in anything else because she is overweight, and that she will not be taken seriously in the business. It's just heartbreaking to think girls feel they need to starve themselves to be beautiful. I wonder if the media considered big to be beautiful if girls who had the body dysmorphic disorder would eat like pigs and see themselves as too thin when they look in the mirror, instead of too fat.

All I can say is...

Thank you, Lord, with all my heart and every piece of my soul.