Killjoy. [entries|friends|calendar] Ivy the Downtrodden [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

[24 Jun 2008|02:51pm] ( Books, books, books. ) 1 kid in the coffin|caring kills

She is too fond of books, and it has addled her brain. -- Louisa May Alcott [01 May 2008|11:35pm] [ mood | quixotic ] [ music | "Dead Souls," by Nine Inch Nails ] ( All breaths are wasted but for the one that draws you in. ) 6 kids in the coffin|caring kills

Tuesday night at the movies. [15 Apr 2008|08:03pm] ( Picture-heavy, mostly for Adam. ) 4 kids in the coffin|caring kills

Written early, posted late. [01 Jan 2008|01:39am] I got an Aquafresh Direct Fresh toothbrush (and some Dr. Seuss toothpaste) at the market the other day, and it's quite possibly the ugliest thing I've ever put in my mouth (zing!). Function over form, I guess. It's this hideous teal with neon rubber attachment things that remind me of road cones but goodness it's a comfy brush. I drug through the trash (i.e. a pile on my countertop) to find the packaging so I could become a loyal customer of this, the Lexus of toothbrushes. My resolution is only this: write some stuff for the conference, something totally new and unexpected, something fun and experimental, something really crappy, something you know will wow them when you read aloud and something to get freaky with at pirate's. New Year's for me has always been about the Twilight Zone marathons, so I've gotten a headstart by picking up the Twilight Zone companion book and trying to pick out my favorites from memory. I think it's funny how there's a sort of general knowledge of Twilight Zone episodes for basically anyone who's watched TV, the "classics" if you will. But within the Twilight Zone universe, there seems to be a second tier of classics, where a lot of my favorites crop up. So informal poll: what Twilight Zone episodes do you feel are "classics"? And not surprisingly, this usually overlaps with the question, what Twilight Zone episodes are your favorite? My "classics" picks: The Hitch-Hiker: A classic urban legend, immortalized in Twilight Zone style. A young woman sees the same hitch-hiker on the road after her car has a blowout. At the height of her nervousness she calls home and finds out her mother has had a nervous breakdown after the death of her daughter. She gets back in the car to pickup the hitch-hiker. Time Enough At Last: I always remember this one as "the one where the guy breaks his glasses." A bookish wimp escapes nuclear fallout by chance and delights at the thought of having all the time in the world to read, only to drop his glasses. Oops. The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street: I was introduced to the literature of screenwriting with the script to this episode, so it's always held a special place for me. Paranoia sets into a nice friendly neighborhood and turns its inhabitants against each other. But wait, this isn't a lesson about man's inhumanity to man etc. etc., as aliens are gleefully watching and corruptiong electricity and whatnot to fuel suspicions. Those clever Martians! I Shot an Arrow into the Air: The surviving astronauts from a crash on an asteroid end up fighting to the death over the last of the water, only to discover the barren landing spot is actually just Death Valley. The After Hours: Anne Francis stars as a mannequin who takes her holiday into real life too far and gets a decidedly creepy reminder of who she really is. A sort of "thirteenth floor" story, only here it's the ninth. The Eye of the Beholder: Duh. Woman under wraps is supposedly incurably ugly, but at the end it's the piggy looking people and they send her to Earth to be with other freaks like her. One of my favorite bits of trivia is that this episode was originally called "A Private World of Darkness." The Invaders: Agnes Moorhead silently and triumphantly crushes her tiny pursuers, who are of course revealed to be ... U.S. astronauts on a planet of giants. Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up?: A pair of troopers tries to figure out which one of these things is not like the other in a snow-covered cafe. Hint: there's more than one to keep an eye out for! It's a Good Life: The one with the kid who wishes people into the cornfields. If you haven't seen this one, you should be ashamed. The Shelter: A mob of neighbors goes animal fighting over a coveted bomb shelter. At the end, the classic lesson -- we have nothing to fear but fear itself, etc. etc. Five Characters in Search of an Exit: A major, a clown, a ballerina, a hobo, and a bagpipe player try to figure out where they are and why they have no idea who they are. Going crazy to the ringing of a bell seems to be a theme. To Serve Man: It's a cookbook! The Masks: A rich old coot gives his family the inheritance they've been starving for, plus a makeover. Nightmare at 20,000 Feet: A weird gorilla man hanging out on the wing of a plane. The Living Doll: I'm Talky Tina, and I'm going to kill you! caring kills

[18 Dec 2007|12:09am] If I've learned one thing from the obsessive amount of knitting I've been doing, it's that I'm still new at this and I shouldn't be too hard on myself when something doesn't go as planned. That being said, here are my new creations. ( Alice. ) ( Howard. ) 6 kids in the coffin|caring kills

Summore. [14 Dec 2007|12:51am] ( Trixie. ) ( Amanda. ) 5 kids in the coffin|caring kills

Some knittage. [13 Dec 2007|12:55am] Here's the hats I've made over the past week or so. And yes, I am cocky enough to have named each one like little pieces of art. Once again, the offer stands for anyone who wants something. Oh, and say hello to my headequin, Grace. ( Alex. ) ( Linda. ) ( Ivy. ) ( Stephanie. ) 6 kids in the coffin|caring kills

[08 Dec 2007|06:44pm] [ mood | cheerful ] [ music | "Baby Please Come Home," by U2 ] Whenever I see the way old people move, slow and shambolic and needing someone to wipe up their dookies, I get really sad and think, promise myself, that I'll try to stay in good shape and take care of myself, by myself, for as long as possible. However, in the wake of flying off Rose courtesy of the newly christened Averypult, I find myself grunting and straining to pull my pants on over the road rash on me bum, and taking a shower is the hardest it's been since I had to bathe with a Ziploc bag tied over my cast in sixth grade. I gotta say, I don't mind the tough girl cred, and I'll be back on the bike once the bike is back to being a bike. I've taken up knitting again, and I'm learning new stitches left and right so I can mix it up a bit. Knit and purl are obvious, but I'm also learning cable stitch so I can make buttonholes and clumsily venturing into the world of intarsia, or picture knitting. ( This is my sad excuse for a grenade. ) I don't have any money this Christmas so I can't buy a lot of presents but if anybody wants a cap, a scarf, or armwarmers, let me know what colors and patterns and whatnot and you shall receive. I already have a giraffe cap planned for Miss DeRoo and a nipple cap for shits and giggles. ( These are some of my pets as lolcats. ) P.S. ( This is a not very good picture of my Christmas tree, Sayumi Parker. ) He's the cutest damn thing ever. 2 kids in the coffin|caring kills

[01 Dec 2007|06:45pm] Wow, so I am so lame that the past twenty-four hours constitute as a good day because nothing went terribly wrong. Had P.F. Chang's for dinner last night, then got sloshed telling embarrassing stories about youth. Woke up comfortably late today, went shopping with my mom and got big girl clothes while turning in job applications. Had Chipotle for lunch, came home and beat Hellgate: London, then won the first WSG I popped into in WoW. Now I'm going to watch Christmas movies and sit around. A good day. 2 kids in the coffin|caring kills

For/from Aaron, more to come. [09 Oct 2007|05:14pm] [ mood | amused ] [ music | "You're So Vain," by Carly Simon ] 3 kids in the coffin|caring kills

Nothing substantial. [28 Sep 2007|11:08am] [ mood | complacent ] [ music | "I Forgive You," by Darren Hayes ] For all the anguish And degradation. For every time I needed truth And you were faithless. For disappointment, self-deprecation. For living a lie, for fantasizing you could save me. I need my cross like a blanket, And misery is a comfort. I can hardly stand to blame myself fulfilling prophecy on you. And in the end I decided I guess I felt I deserved it. I should kiss your dirty lips for bringing me my clarity. And how the truth has made me see How your lies have buried me. But I forgive you. Lord, I must forgive you. So I, I feel so high. Just let it go. I forgive you. Lord, I must forgive you. So I shut up. For all the torment, Loss of independence. For disrespect, carelessness with my emotions. For all the screams I swallow, How a soul is hollow. For giving into temptation, For making me feel like a cheap replacement. caring kills

Lawloween. [10 Sep 2007|02:22pm] [ mood | creative ] [ music | "Neverland," by Darren Hayes ] ( It's been so long I forgot my LJ courtesy. ) 14 kids in the coffin|caring kills

[01 Mar 2007|03:15pm] In depression, faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent. The pain is unrelenting, and what makes the condition intolerable is the foreknowledge that no remedy will come--not in a day, an hour, a month, or a minute. If there is mild relief, one knows that it is only temporary; more pain will follow. It is hopelessness even more than pain that crushes the soul. Today is worse than ever. 6 kids in the coffin|caring kills

[08 Feb 2007|12:00pm] I thought I would really appreciate the silence and emptiness once my houseguests were gone, but I found myself at school thinking about going home to "The Little Mermaid" and when I got home to a quiet room, I felt disheartened. Bella was an amazing, eye-opening experience for me, and getting to meet Aaron after, what, five years was truly wonderful. I keep finding little remnants of their stay in my room and getting teary-eyed. I doubt that she understands, especially not on the same level that I do, but I hope I get to spend more time with her as she grows up, so I become as special to her as she quickly became to me. I also think I'm going to eschew going to Perv tonight (shock! horror!) to go see Pan's Labyrinth. I've heard nothing but good things, and it's been a long time since I actually went to see a quality film instead of just recycling one off my bookshelf. Of course, I guess it's been a long time since a quality film has been in theatres. My gramma, who is already frail and unwell from a stroke she had a year or so ago, is in the hospital with pneumonia, a kiss of death to old people second only to a broken hip. The very tiny optimist in me is screaming to be positive, but ... 2 kids in the coffin|caring kills

I drove home drunk and then drove back to your place just to get it out of me. [19 Jan 2007|06:36pm] [ mood | destroyed ] [ music | "Under the Milky Way," by The Church ] Not much to say, I want to vomit every time I think about myself and my life. I feel like I did nothing but make bad choices last year, even though I tried so hard to make the right ones. Sitting here feeling like a total goth because I'm listening to the gothest song ever and really feeling it. Don't wanna go back to work, a little scared about fucking up school again. Oh well. I haven't been on an up in months, unless you count my manic fits of anger where I alienate and hurt the people I love who love me. Or maybe I just snap out of it and see what a shitty place I've gotten myself into and how badly I need it anyway. I don't want to be around anyone because the people I'm around don't get me, don't understand, use me and make me feel like shit to make themselves feel better about what assholes they are. Even the people I care about I can't stand to be around. Everything I say and feel seems forced. I don't like this, and I don't know what to do. I had to just stop and start crying because I don't have the fight left in me anymore. Out of love, thinking of Where did everything go wrong with us? There must be some better way. I'm on my own, free to roam. Who's afraid to be alone? I'm not. There's got to be another way, 'Cause some things are never meant to be. Real love is not for me. Too much hurt and too much pain. All I need is a lover's touch. Real love is not for me. In the end it's all the same, you'll see-- Hopeless misery. Down and out, full of doubt, Feeling like a stupid clown, I've cried. That's why there is no other way. I've been there, in despair. You can't take me there again, my friend, So please just go away, 'Cause some things were never meant to be. All the things that I regret, All the things I should have said, I can't forgive; I can't forget. No, I'll never fall in love again. I cannot bear the consequence To give my heart to another. Searching hard, near and far, Won't stop 'till I've seen it all And done what comes to me along the way. I'll tell you so, time will show, And in the end you'll know I'm right, That I have found a better way. 3 kids in the coffin|caring kills

That's your own damn fault. [26 Dec 2006|03:48pm] [ mood | happy ] [ music | "Non-Stop Violence," by Apoptygma Berzerk ] One thing I hate about people thinking I'm goth or associating with goth people is the whole "I'm too goth for Christmas" thing. I effin' love Christmas, and I had an effin' awesome Christmas. Canon Rebel XTi? Mine! Trip to Prague? Mine! Kitty when I come home? Mine!!! This year, three people have been super important to me, and I just want to say thanks before I go to Europe and get so blitzed drunk that I don't remember their names. Matt, my roommate -- Thanks for putting up with my mess and my misanthropy. I'm glad you're here and happy and always just on the other side of my wall! If it weren't for you, I'd still be an angsty college kid living at my parents' house. Now I'm an angsty college kid living in an overpriced apartment! Remy, my best friend -- I think that says it all, don't it? You've always been there, even when I wasn't, and you always will be. As long as you keep telling the dirty jokes, I'll keep laughing when I should be suckerpunching you. Eric, my benefactor -- You supported me through all the emotional and financial difficulties I faced this year, and you were the person I called screaming at one in the morning when someone I trusted made me feel unsafe. You always pick up the phone, you always offer your ear, and you always slap me when I'm being a cunt. Thanks for introducing me to Prague, although it won't be the same without you. For the record, nobody shop at Borders, ever again. I love driving by there and thinking about never ever stepping foot in those doors again. Free at last! Back to laundry and packing, I'll be back next week. Happy New Year and I hope you all get so shitfaced you can't see straight. 4 kids in the coffin|caring kills

The static in the sound. [16 Dec 2006|12:08pm] [ mood | crushed ] [ music | "Scorch the Ground," by Seabound ] I feel uber-dramatic, but the past twenty-four hours have just really hit me hard. There's this girl Lisa at work -- very long and complicated story but, bottom line is, I was into her, she was into me, she has a girlfriend dying of cancer. We kinda messed around for a while but I finally decided I couldn't be "the other girl" in a situation where someone was dying. Regardless of what her hormones say right now, I know later Lisa would resent me as "the girl who made someone cheat on her dying girlfriend." She also has this despicable habit of teasing relentlessly. Duke had the same problem; and when I'd ask him to tone it down and maybe actually have a real conversation with me, he'd say I was being touchy and act all disappointed that I didn't get his sense of humor. Teasing and playful ribbing is only fun when it's counterbalanced with some genuinity. Otherwise it's just mean-spirited. Lisa is endlessly mean-spirited. She somehow finds every little thing I'm insecure about for the day and makes fun of it. She's the kind of person who will unceremoniously mention in front of a multitude of people that you have a zit on your nose. And then she'll have these flashes of tenderness and "ohhh Avery I love you so much" that she uses to make me feel like I'm being hypersensitive. Well I'm not, and last night she just did a couple things that made me realize, I'm a fucking game to her. She's not into me, she just wants to hit it. The way she talks to her girlfriend and all the other girls I've seen her date is nothing like the way she treats me. And I sat here for months thinking I was a fool because I got offended by her. No more, my friends. Then I got in a fight with someone about shit that already happened, can't be changed, can't be explained away, and it hurts every second of every day and there's not one humanly possible thing to do about it. I went back to old bad habits, but consoled myself in thinking that today I was going out Christmas shopping with Remy. I get in my car and realize I've been driving on empty for two days so maybe I should go get gas. I go to get gas and there's no more money in my account. No HUGE deal, I think, just finally go deposit my most recent paycheck. Can't find it anywhere. As I'm pulling back into my apartment my car starts sputtering and chugging. Stranded, no money, no gas, no self-esteem, no self-worth, no hope, no consolation. I hate everything about the way I look, the way I live my life, the kind of person I am, the things that I have lined up, and the few, pathetic aspirations I have left. Staple the back of my hand to my forehead, because I hate myself and I want to die. I hate talking about bipolar with people, because you don't realize how different of a world we live in until you're trying to explain yourself and your feelings and the response you're getting is, "Well why don't you think about something else to try to feel better? Or think about how sad your mom would be if you died." I don't how to get the point across to anyone. This stuff doesn't matter, and it's not because we're selfish people or insensitive. It's because we just live in an entirely different world. Your whole brain functions incorrectly. And when the very thing you use to judge reality and sense and feeling is corrupted and seeks to attack you and probe at the bruises and unhealed wounds, you definitely are not thinking about the well-being of other people. The pain you feel is so overwhelming, so insurmountable, that it overpowers any concern you have for any other human being, yourself included, or any cause, or any dream. This really isn't the kind of thing I expect anyone to understand. Nonstop ambush, 24/7 mental torture. Do you know what it's like to kill yourself slowly? To spend your whole life building up things to make yourself weaker? To feel part of your brain purposely poke at and irritate and hurt other parts? It sucks. 4 kids in the coffin|caring kills

Said it once, said it a batrillion times. [27 Sep 2006|02:14am] [ mood | crushed ] [ music | "Skin," by Neuroticfish ] Maybe it's selfish of me to think there's any connection, but I "stumbled" upon the information that my ex's wedding anniversary with his wife (who was marrying someone else when he and I were dating) is on or around my birthday. That probably explains why I never got a devious "happy birthday" text message from him, which I was expecting half with annoyance and half with hope. Last Christmas, in the greyness of my post-Prague depression, I got a text from him reading, "Merry Christmas, Sephie." It broke my heart and clouded my senses with anger to see him call me the sweet pet name he had for me. It's strange how in reality, physically speaking, we are more than capable of surviving breakups and emotional trauma. Here I am, three years later, stronger and smarter and prettier. Still alive, still living my life, still trying to be something better. A whole less trusting and a whole lot sadder. Without him I would have been a better person, but after him I'm trying to be the best person I can be. I wasn't left a lot to work with. There are moments where my heart swells with pride for how far I've come and how much better I've gotten at looking at him as a waste, of space, time, feeling, and molecules. And then there are moments where I fall apart at the thought of ______ and then I fall apart even more, hating myself for loving him ever, loving him now, loving him always. Strictly speaking I have moved on. New boyfriends, new outlook, a different place in my life. But I haven't committed myself fully to anyone or anything since him. My soul died and very little, save my spiritual home in Europe, has breathed life into my veins. Ruined by him, for him, for everyone else. Feel like a kid for letting it bring me down so much. Wondering if it's really so bad to feel so much, because I feel so little everywhere else. Some days I could take him on and tear him down and be a superior being. Most days I'm just the wreck of what he chose to leave behind. 3 kids in the coffin|caring kills

Look ma, I'm fourteen! [23 Sep 2006|03:02pm] [ mood | pissed off ] [ music | "Fearless," by VNV Nation ] I don't really like anyone right now. I don't have a lot of people I'd consider friends, and the ones I do are either wrapped up with girls or totally willing to spend money on me but completely incapable of finding any time to toss my way. So here I am preoccupied with the toys I got yet feeling incredibly lonely at the same time. Too many people I know are unwilling to be judgmental and critical. Maybe I am too much of these things, but putting on a happy face for the sake of keeping things calm is pretty cowardly. I don't know how you go from making fun of people behind their backs to being considered a close friend to their faces, but somehow it seems to have happened, and that to me is worse than openly saying you think someone sucks and being considered a prick for it. Right now my friends are in Vegas, or playing with the other friends I introduced them to who suddenly warrant more time. Isn't that always the case though? I should stop having friends, and I should stop introducing them to each other. I should also stop bitching, but seeing as I don't have anyone to bitch to, I guess you bear the brunt of it, journal. Severing connections is so much easier said than done, but at this point I feel like my "friends" are at such distant ends of the connection that they wouldn't even notice. Let's see how it goes. 3 kids in the coffin|caring kills

You better remember the name Distort, 'cause it's gonna be printed all over your ass! [22 Sep 2006|04:04pm] [ mood | accomplished ] [ music | "Skin," by Neuroticfish ] I really do love my guild. Sometimes a little too much. 4 kids in the coffin|caring kills

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