i think i've stated this once before, but i definitely feel as though my news writing class has sucked all of the creativity out of me.
like bulbasaur's leech seed raping the HP of a squirtle.

i want to take English classes again. preferably creative writing. something, anything, where it's not expected that i be a carbon-copy of my professor.

i like to write in short, tight sentences. but only when i feel like it. for emphasis. to tease.
simplicity can be lovely. but long, flourishing sentences that wrap you in their tails and hold you there are sometimes much-needed, softly contrasting the hard edges of the mean, simple facts.
counting words is ridiculous. counting is for accountants, not writers*.
the metaphor is my secret lover.
similes are like caffeine for me when i'm writing; they're sometimes the only thing that keeps me awake.
according to recent studies, 90% of facts are dry and boring, especially when surrounded by flavorless, monotone crap.
one of the worst fathomable feelings for me is having my palate cringe and my nose crinkle in repulsion at the thought of my actually saying something i've just written out loud.
and it happens every time i write something for that stupid class.
 
*i don't even feel like a WRITER with the shit i produce for that class. my CJ222 creations are stupid, ugly, inbred freak babies i'm too ashamed to look at, let alone put in a newspaper.
because everything i want to write gets cut apart and criticized. too long,too short, too hard, too soft.

all we do is eat up the facts we've gathered and vomit them back up at the reader. why not just publish the fucking police report if that's seriously ALL that can be written other than some repetitive quote that just confirms the facts?

frustration.

so today was a typical lindsey day... got in a car accident with a lesbian, hit on by a fireman, and out of a ticket.

it's been snowing quite a bit today... so the roads are slippery. i came into a situation where i could have crashed into the back of a line of four cars at a stoplight or try to merge over and not crash at all....

so, i merged over and a hit a lady. it was about a hand print-sized dent and the bitch FLIPS out.

"this is my brand new car, i've never been in an accident before" blah blah blah.

a fireman, who was on his way back to the station, was driving right behind us and followed us into a gas station parking lot.

after he listened to her long-winded explanation (she took about five minutes to explain what happened)... he came over by me and my roommate, who was riding with me... and i was already crying at this point.

so at first he's like "don't cry, you'll mess up your pretty face... ha ha, i can say that before the policeman gets here." (he must have thought i was underage or something? why else would he have to get that taken care of before the policeman got there?)

and then a couple of minutes later he was like, "turn your car on and keep the doors clothes.. you're wearing practically nothing. i'm not supposed to notice that either,  but i did."

which made me lol. srs.

uhhh... so then the lesbian bitched some more (she had the look, plus her car was signed under her name and another lady's name, as my roommate brilliantly noticed.)

and then the policeman came. and i was pretty scared because i knew my license was expired. so i was like fuck.
when he asked me whether i knew this, i put on my best shocked face, and apparently it was pretty fantastic ... my roommate says she even believed me for a minute ... and i guess that and my cuteness helped me get out of the ticket i more than likely deserved.

maybe it's thinking about things like i was blogging about earlier that makes me have weird quasi-revelations...

but along the lines of people being sort of replaceable objects... --that should be a comforting thought. it really should. i should be able to go "i can replace any guy that comes along." because, eventually, with time, i probably can. maybe. but then what i'm always afraid of is the guy turning around and doing the same thing to me.  but shouldn't i then be like "well that's ok, i'll just replace him too."?-- i digress. (i've always wanted to say that.)

well anyway, along those lines, it's kind of true, i suppose that people can be in a sense "replaced" because they do, literally, replace other people in certain positions. you can probably already guess that i'm going to talk about boyfriend things now, so you might as well just click "home" on the top of the page or whatever gets you there.

well anyway, after each of my relationships, i would think about what was the best part of it and be so sad that it probably wouldn't happen that way again.

what i would think about with my last relationship was a kiss under these big lights in a parking lot... and it was night time and it was summer and it made me so happy. and i thought i would always miss that.

then tonight, i was walking up the giant-ass set of stairs on this hill that is like a giant zit on the face of our campus and... no no no wait. that sounds awful.
mood killer.

ok. so i was walking up the stairs tonight with my boyfriend and it was snowing just a little bit. and i said i wanted to frolic in the snow with him, jokingly, kind of. and so, after he made sure there was no one watching us, he grabbed my hand and we actually skipped over to a little alcove covering a bench and we were all out of breath and half-laughing and we kissed under the light on the alcove... and it didn't immediately remind me of the other situation. which is good. and it was so much better, of course. (i'm not really one for rosy-retrospect unless i'm in despair.)

well anyway, my brain has just been boggled with that parallel. and i mean, it's kind of bittersweet because it was pretty impressive to have something that made me that happy again and that would likely be memorable. but at the same time i'm kind of like fuck. i have to appreciate this while i have it, because it could all abruptly go away.
a month from now i could be sitting in my room so upset and thinking that a boy will never kiss me in dim lighting again. ha.

oh. as a disclaimer, i really don't want to sound like i'm comparing boyfriends or replacing them or what have you. even though... i guess.. the position does get refilled. (god, being with me really is like a job, i guess.) but for me the actual PEOPLE don't get replaced. which is why similarities like this just throw me for a loop.

i'm the kind of person that stresses differences rather than similarities. i don't like to try to find things i have in common with people, i prefer the opposite. maybe that's because i adore the fact that i'm different from other people in a lot of ways or maybe it's because it's more interesting that way... but either way, long story short, i don't try too hard to find things in common. which is why when i actually see things like this. just blatant, unintended parallels, my brain does back-flips.

so walking around a college campus, on any given day, one will see numerous groups of skanky girls.
they seriously almost never travel alone.
and it's like, why? why do you need someone to walk to the bathroom with you? (it's my theory that they aren't smart enough to wipe their own asses, but that's another blog entirely. well not yet.) anyway.

so i was just thinking...
there's a shrewdness of apes, an intrusion of cockroaches, a murder of crows...

what would you call a group of skanky girls?

an orgy of whores?
a gangbang of sluts?
a shrewd intrusion of girls i want to murder?

and if you see just one or two walking together instead of a huge group, you could call it an anomaly.

thanksgiving in my family is a cross between hell and a circus. which is kind of perfect, as they both have rings.
and standing right at the center of the thanksgiving hell circle is my stepfather's mother.

if my news writing teacher is a demon and my stepmother is a harpy... then my step-grandmother is the apron-clad devil. especially on holidays. let me tell you why.

awful people... they're usually blatantly awful. but this woman... tries so hard to be "good" that she ends up being awful... either that or it's all a clever ruse, which i could totally see happening.

she is a preachy catholic woman, who scolds everyone for nearly everything because she thinks she is the all-knowing goddess of child-rearing... when really, she's terrible at it. all three of her children are just fucked. she is the only woman i know who i would fully support a man saying "get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich" to... because about the only thing she knows how to do is cook and be a housewife. and even that might be a stretch because my mom cooks about a million times better.

but yes, anyway, back to metaphors. thanksgiving is hell. everything is yellow-and-orange-themed ... like fire.
there are screaming children throwing pool balls at each other and a huge array of people with whom i share a mutual hatred... so maybe it's my own personal hell.

maybe that's a little dramatic. but i sincerely find thanksgiving to be the most useless and miserable holiday my family celebrates. here's why:

1. i hate nearly all of the food. i like turkey. and i like pumpkin pie. so today, i had a bunch of turkey and nearly half a pumpkin pie. i eat more on practically any other day of the year than i do on thanksgiving.

1.5. in addition, i seriously feel like all this holiday is celebrating is food, because that's what is emphasized. sure, evil pious woman says a prayer at the beginning about giving thanks and whatnot... but that's right before everyone eats, which is the only reason anyone listens to her at all, i think. well, everyone with the exception me. you couldn't pay me to listen to that shit and cross myself after.

2. i hate my family. i'm okay with certain individuals at certain times... (it's like how i hate everyone... i don't hate every person all of the time, but i do hate everyone at some point in time and therefore most people most of the time) but as a whole, i fucking hate my family. i don't know why i even bother to call them that.

i always have the option to go with either my dad or my mom for thanksgiving. it ends up being like one of those "choose your own ending" books where i have to seriously think about the consequences of my actions before i make them.

if i go with my dad, i go to his parents house with all of my odd-looking cousins who i don't really communicate with/who don't really like me. so i essentially end up sitting in the living room talking to my great-grandmother about cat nipples, just like at the "family picnic"... while everyone looks at me and wonders what gene pool i've been swimming in since you can't see half my gums above my teeth.
also: before this year, i would have had to have worried about dealing with my stepmother and stepsiblings as well...not happening

if i go with my mom and stepdad, i go to my stepdad's house since my mom doesn't like her family anymore than i like mine, and we deal with Martha Stewart on crack and the whole raggedy band of people who act like they like each other but secretly don't. except for me, they don't even bother to pretend they don't like me.
so after they ganged up on me and nagged at me for something i didn't even do, i put myself in time out today. and just sat away from them where they could see me sitting away from them for about an hour.

3. generic thanksgiving texts. "happy thanksgiving!" ... i got the exact same text from like 5 people. since giving thanks isn't what we're celebrating (buying as much food as you can and shoving it down your throat is not equal to giving thanks, sorreh.) i typically prefer to say something along the lines of "happy steal corn from the indians day to you too."

4. the things i care about the most are hardly around me at all for the entire stupid day, making it really hard for me to give thanks for them. my family and terrible food definitely don't make the top 3 list of things i'm thankful for.. maybe the top 5, depending on the day. right now the things i'm most thankful for... hmm.. my cat. the boyfriend. idk that might be it. but either way, i don't get to spend time with either of THEM today.
so if i want to actually celebrate thanksgiving by giving thanks, i have to really stretch it and think of some ridiculous thing to be thankful for all day long when i'm not near anything i like... like... opposable thumbs, or something. yes, i am extremely grateful for my opposable thumbs as i use this fork to stab myself in the jugular.

5. the fact that lots of people are so cheerful and excited. if i'm going to be miserable, god dammit, why can't the rest of you be miserable too?

life is incredibly busy.
i dearly wish i had more time to sit around and be creative, but being forced to on command for five different classes leaves me mostly drained of anything clever or useful to say.

so much to do and only skeletons to show for it. skeletons of outlines, papers, projects. things that shouldn't really ever be seen by anyone alone. honest and bare. poorly and inadequately dressed compared to the usual bullshit you're supposed to pile on these things.

most aspects of life are the usual shade of uninteresting.
happily, though, at least one good thing has come of lately.


to do list:
1.finish the semester without dying.
2.grow up.
3.figure out what i'm going to do with my life.
4.take a deep fucking breath.
5.smack a bitch.

i am a restless, reckless, rebellious wreck.
you can't reach me or reason with me
and i can't resist you.

and i burn bridges better than if my blood were kerosene and my fingers were matches.
that is to say, more or less naturally.

all poetic thoughts aside, my life is shit.

just bite your tongue
till you taste blood
we've both got nothing left
none more wrathful,
none less free ...
and still we go not kept
lost causes never were
so lost as when they
played pretend;
unspoken treads
invisibly
a means too mean to end.
and sweet like sleep
you beckon me
but promise nothing in return
no threat or comfort of a dream
you brought me here to burn.
our haunted hearts
both drier than
your eyes,
all up in smoke
and dull to me,
we love as only
moral mortals can:
conversationally.




...and it woke me up.