If I don't start posting again, I think I'll burst.

So what's happend in the last few months that's taken me from a kid to an adult and back again a few times?

I started college. This, my friends, is hell. Constant work. I knew it would be hard, but I didn't know that my education would come at the cost of my sanity. I'm too involved, but this has to remain so in order for me to keep my big-ass scholarship. My classes are difficult, but this has to remain so in order for me to get a good job. My life is some what falling apart, but this has to remain so in order for my life to stay together. What this all ads up to is my demise. If I don't figure out a clever way to boost my self up into the next level, I'll surely perish.

Urgh! enough debbie downer nate.

I am over involved in the following

LGBTA Alliance: Last semester I was catapaulted onto the cabinet board of the organization and given the position of Secretary. That was fine. Then, we have a president who leaves not so willingly due to academics, and the whole thing goes a complete restructure. The new President, whom i nominated, has all these "visions" about where the org should be, and we get taken along for the ride. The waters were choppy and the life raft that i was clinging to was slowly going under the white foam. The constitution gets a revamp. We start fighting the crazy-right-wing-religious-praise-the-zombie-baby-jesus groups. We refuse to allow them to descriminate against Queer people. I decide to undertake the biggest event of the fall: "Not Straight? Let's Date" The alliance's date auction. Kelly and I go bat-shit-crazy getting this together, and almost kill ourselves in the process. We raise $800 in 2 hours. We continue to fight the crazy-right-wing-religious-praise-the-zombie-baby-jesus groups. I get elected to the LGBT Student Services Advisory board. I now get to direct how all the 'mos on campus can deal with their issues, and how the isu "community" can help to support them. My life gets threatened by the crazy-right-wing-religious-praise-the-zombie-baby-jesus groups.

I am asked to serve on the Margaret Sloss Women's Center Advisory Board. Now, I get the task of helping to decide how the feminists in the isu "community" will be treated/helped. joy.

We have a massive campus-wide, balls first, caution to the wind all out fight with the crazy-right-wing-religious-praise-the-zombie-baby-jesus groups.

I am hospitalized because my throat closes in upon itself due to exaughstion.

I am going to class every day, and painting my face so beautifully, that everyone thinks i'm divine and people start to know who i am, when i dont know who they are.

I make some of the best friends in the world. I am able to keep the old friends. Life seems to look up.

I Rush, Pledge, and am initiated into Delta Lambda Phi.

We beat the crazy-right-wing-religious-praise-the-zombie-baby-jesus groups at their own game.

Justice prevails.

I become the new Philanthropy chair of Delta Lambda Phi.

I greet 2007 at Studio 13 in Iowa City drunk off my ass, with the most amazing people anyone can have around them.

I begin the second semester attempting to find a balance between academia and activism.

the crazy-right-wing-religious-praise-the-zombie-baby-jesus groups are attempting to fight back.

I recieve a letter from The New School in NYC, explaning that my acceptance remains open, should i change my mind, until january 2009. I could go become a writer and leave all this behind.

I contemplate leaving it all behind. I will stay. I will be exaughsted. I will be happy. I will fall asleep tonight knowing i have to fix my car tomorow, and that i have to go to class. and that i have to plan the Alliance's drag show, and that i have to arrange a meeting with my academic advisor, and that i have to clean my apartment, and that i have to try to quit smoking,(again)and that i have sucessfully started writing in my LJ again. And that I will be tired, and that when i lay down tommorow night to go to sleep, the world can save itself for a few hours.

Steps:
Step 1: Put iTunes/your music program of choice on random.
Step 2: Post the first line from the first 25 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing the song.
Step 3: Post and let everyone you know guess what song and artist the lines come from.
Step 4: Strike out the songs when someone guesses correctly.

Rules:
1. No skipping songs because they're embarrassing! (Unless they're just music/a movie)
2: Looking them up on Google or any other search engine is cheating!

1. Once again i'm a little depressed by the tired old face that i see
2. More and more i cant say no/ So afraid of letting go
3. I love the east, I love the west, and north and south, there both the best
4. In diapers, report cards ,in spoked wheels in speeding tickets
5. I had a taste of bitter life at sweet 16
6. I wish i could go back to college, life was so simple back then
7. Walk on this side of the street/ dont walk where it feels the best
8. Well its 8 oclock in boise Idaho
9. I comb the crowd and pick you out/ my mouth moves too fast for you to figure it out
10. You beloved/ were to be everything love stood for
11. I took my troubles down to madame rouge
12. Reach out and touch faith!
13. This is for all you girls about 13 (Can i cheat now...)
14. thank you thank you thank you you're far too kind
15. I dig rock n roll music and i love to get the chance to play (and sing it)
16. When you're talkin in your sleep and the name that you whisper aint mine
17. The rocking horse came/ from and old oak tree
18. There's a boat, i could sail away, theres the sky
19. well the first time i went out on my own i was a young man almost 17 right down to the day
20. Lovers, there will be another one
21. I feel uptight on a saturday night
22. And when i see you, i really see you upside down
23. I"m in the phone booth its the one across the hall, if you dont answer i'll just ring it off the wall
24. Big sense, irro sense, cripplin man kind ( so thats what the words sound like when i'm sober...)
25. Christmas bells are ringing

I've had an ephiphany today.
once in a while i have to sleep all day and recharge my batteries. when i do this, i have the freakiest ideas. as my bestest friend informed me Rene Descartes did the same thing. Call me a philosopher.

so i've just posted a bunch of stuff today. i need to post more, and i intend to make good on that promise. I'm a creative being, and i need to get that out of my head. Move all that shit out of my skull for all of you to rape with your eyes

i need to see Reefer Madness, sounds hillarious

verbatum text message from my friends ex-boy friend, bisexual who thought i was hawt!

"Hey, how are ya sexy? I've missed you while i was in jail! Wanna get fucked up and screw?"


my reply: Faggot

I am such a cluster fuck today! I’ve been working on this in my head for a while and need to get it out on paper. Its part of the one man show that I’m working on. Un monolauge followith


The Gays, sick of being persecuted for clothing choice and their affinity for fudge and colors, decided to create a humongous house. This house was to be so fucking fabulous and faggotty that people could see its sky scraping, needle poking, powerful pumps from miles away. Only one problem, they couldn’t work a hammer.

Terrance, the KING of queer land, or shall we say Queen, of Queertasia, decided to to call on the lesbians. Its been known for ages and ages that the lesbians can work hammers and nails, all lesbians, despite their despise of the term, can work a mean piece of pine. So the men created a layout, after getting laid of course, and went off to take a trip on the LSD train, so they could get back to work at Boi Shack!

The lesbians all banded together, with their strap-ons and flannel, and got to work. They drove their mac trucks to the site hauling their wares from home depot and threw up the frame work for the fag mansion. After wards, around 10:00 the women stood around with each other, scratched, groaned, and had a Heineken. They all then promptly took off their tool belts, and decided to parade around in panties to praise the goddess for all that she allowed them to accomplish.

The following morning the gays went to the manse to decorate, collaborate, and masturbate. There were pride posters, colors of every imagination, and an entire wing devoted to bravo tv. The first floor was ab fab, but what to do about the second?

Loving themselves, and all those in the “family” they decided to devote an entire room to each member.

Bisexuals got a room that was cut directly down the middle. One side devoted to pussy the other to cock.

The trannies , no one knowing exactly what they wanted, got a bunch of shit thrown in their. They decided to call it the “cut that shit out room”

The gays made their room the most fabulous, of course, with Karl Lagerfeld, Versace, and Armani coating the walls. The drapes were damask, the walls were flowered, the pump-up windows, were prada

The old queens section consisted entirely of designer depends and old Oscar shots.

Not a dime was spared

The lesbian’s beds were created with comfortable fabrics that the queens wouldn’t touch. The entirety of their rooms were garage style with “we can do it” posters from floor to ceiling.


Terrance decided to throw a party to show support. Thousands of queers from all over the Queerdom gathered to partake of fun and festivity. So many showed up, got drunk/high, and fucked, that it was impossible for the manse to contain them all: they took to the streets.

One upon the other, literally, they marched down the hill, and into the city shouting in their stupor: we’re here, were queer, get used to it

So created the first pride parade


This is so far from done that I cant believe that I’m posting it. It will change dramatically as I realize that what I have written is complete shit and dosent have everything that is needed there.

The only way for me to get through trying times is through humour, get over it.

A few days ago a girl that I work with, Chris, told my brother that it was almost impossible to have a conversation with me. She said that the only things I talk about are politics, and gay issues.
I started to wonder why that was and if I really only did talk about those two things. Well, I couldn’t only talk about those two things.
1. because they are so fucking depressing that I’d kill myself
2. because as a very talkative individual I have to have more to talk about than those two things alone.

So, in conversing today I deliberately tried to change up my topics of conversation. I discovered I had nothing to talk about. When I try to direct my speech, like I direct my essays, I stutter more, and stumble around. I’m thinking so much that I loose the ability to organize my thoughts in a proper manner. I can’t talk at all, essentially.

So I can’t talk like I write. Knew that, just needed this to prove it to myself. I continue on trying to organize my thoughts as I speak, and figure out it doesn’t work, and move on to the rest of the day just talking as usual. I found out that I really don’t only talk about those two things. I talk about a lot of different things.

So that brought me right back to Chris. Why did she only get those two things out of all that we spoke about at work? I was going completely insane about Will and Grace being over. I’m still broken up about it. (this is pathetic, I know, and I’m completely accepting of my neuroses) I was talking about a lot of different things that night:
1. bitching about some annoying residents
2. bitching about co-workers
3. talking about things I did friends recently
4. talking about my dogs who were sick at the time
5. talking about my new Michael Thomas Ford book

So, if all she got out of that evening of working together was GLBT issues, and politics, so be it. Those two things floor me and take up a lot of my psyche. Maybe I just radiate them. Either way, if she’s got a problem talking to me, she can talk to my brother

If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of
progress?

Body: 1. Only in America......can a pizza get to your house faster than an ambulance.

2. Only in America......are there handicap parking places in front of a skating rink.

3. Only in America......do drugstores make the sick walk all the way to the back of the store to get their prescriptions while
healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front.

4. Only in America......do people order double cheeseburgers, large fries, and a diet coke.

5. Only in America......do banks leave both doors open and then chain the pens to the counters.

6. Only in America......do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and put our useless junk in the garage.

7. Only in America......do we use answering machines to screen calls and then have call waiting so we won't miss a call from someone we didn't want to talk to in the first place.

8. Only in America......do we buy hot dogs in packages of ten and buns in packages of eight.

9. Only in America......do we use the word 'politics' to describe the process so well: 'Poli' in Latin meaning 'many' and 'tics' meaning 'bloodsucking creatures'.

10. Only in America......do they have drive-up ATM machines with Braille lettering.

EVER WONDER????

Why the sun lightens our hair, but darkens our skin?

Why women can't put on mascara with their mouth closed? [so true]

Why don't you ever see the headline "Psychic Wins Lottery"?

Why is "abbreviated" such a long word?

Why is it that doctors call what they do "practice"?

Why is it that to stop Windows 98, you have to click on "Start"?

Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor, and dishwashing liquid is made with real lemons?

Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?

Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called rush hour?

Why isn't there mouse-flavored cat food?

When dog food is new and improved tasting, who tests it?

Why didn't Noah swat those two mosquitoes?

Why do they sterilize the needle for lethal injections?

You know that indestructible black box that is used on airplanes?
Why don't they make the whole plane out of that stuff?

Why don't sheep shrink when it rains?

Why are they called apartments when they are all stuck together?

If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of
progress?

If flying is so safe, why do they call the airport the terminal?

~~~~

On a bar of Dial soap: "Directions: Use like regular soap."
(and that would be how??...)

On some Swanson frozen dinners: "Serving suggestion: Defrost."
(but, it's "just" a suggestion.)

On Tesco's Tiramisu dessert (printed on bottom): "Do not turn upside down."
(well...duh, a bit late, huh!)

On Marks & Spencer Bread Pudding: "Product will be hot after
heating."
(...and you thought????...)

On packaging for a Rowenta iron: "Do not iron clothes on
body."
(but wouldn't this save me more time?)

On Boot's Children Cough Medicine:"Do not drive a car or
operate machinery after taking this medication."

(We could do a lot to reduce the rate of construction accidents if we could just get those 5-year-olds with head-colds off those forklifts.)

On Nytol Sleep Aid: "Warning: May cause drowsiness."
(and... I'm taking this because???....)

On most brands of Christmas lights: "For indoor or outdoor use
only."
(as opposed to...what?)

On Sunsbury's peanuts: "Warning: contains nuts."
(talk about a news flash)

On an American Airlines packet of nuts: "Instructions: Open packet, eat nuts."
(Step 3: maybe, uh...fly Delta?)

On a Swedish chainsaw:"Do not attempt to stop chain with your
hands or genitals."
(..was there a lot of this happening somewhere?)

I've moved all of my blogger entries to LJ. I need to make LJ my primary blog again. Mostly because its wicked pissa!

I don't quite understand the time i'm in right now. It's becoming difficult for me to write, harder and harder for me to breathe, and and even harder to just be. There is death all around me. Two people that i take care of and love, are passing away. I understand that i should have gone into my current position at the nursing home knowing this would happen, but it's not that simple. THese people have touched my life. They have moved me to tears on more than one occasion, not just now. They have so much information within themselves. They're families are amazing people, and care about them very much. I truly love these two people, and i will miss them.

At the same time, i wish that they could just pass on. Both of them are very elderly, and have lived wonderful lives. One had 17 foster children, as well as three of her own. One took care of other peoples animals all of his life, was so vital in this community, and hs such a following of love after him. They are suffering, restless, and uncomfortable. We are doing everything we can for them, but at the same time, We cant do enough.

You have to understand that sometimes its the pain and suffering talking. When taking care of these people they are often awnry and unconsolable. It's important to remember that they cannot help having problems, and canot help being crabby. It's not them talking, its the pain.

Straight people often use the word "gay" to adjectize negativity. In reading gay blogs and journalistic reviews, and listening to gay radio, and all together gay media, "gay" is replaced by "retarded"

I think we as humans have a need to change things from their original form. We can't just say "thats bad," or "that sucks." We have to say something more profound. We need to have a word that is stronger, that could offend a few people. If we were to change the availability of hurt behind it, would it disolve? If we were to take all the sting out of the negativity of the word, would we still utilize it?

What if we were to change the word from "gay" or "retarded" to something like "Bling-bling"

That's soooohoooo bling-bling. How can you listen to that bling-bling shit.

Would be awesome.

Another person that fascinates and annoys me at the same time: Maria, "mimi" carey.

She's beautiful, she can carry a tune. And she can hold a high note. It's wonderful. But she WEARS A FUCKING BANDANA FOR A TOP! Why do she gotta try and flow her titties outta the smallest piece of fabric that she can.

You know Whitney Huston is sittin up in her hizzouse with Bobby Brown seperatin the Stems from the good stuff, and screamin:" That bitch just askin ta be slapped!"


Today's Slam poem!

Not to be confused with admiration
today's administration is
like a horrible menstration

ever flowing
cramps and aches
heavy days
and light flow ways

I dont want to see this
it makes several people uncomfortable
We need 80 billion dollars in revenue
to make the time standable

In tact with Menstration
comes the Bush
Soon,
hopefully soon,
We'll be able to reach the menopause of a nation
three years untill hot flashes
three years untill reality
three years untill the tears end
and the possibility
of a fabulous marriage liscense!

I believe that the worst thing done to any child before puberty is to tell them that they are "Gifted."

This makes paretns proud! Grandparents all-knowing

"OH, I always knew he'd grow up to be just like his Daddy."

The last thing I wanted to do was be just like Daddy.

But at nine years grueling years of age, after taking an aptitude test, I was told I was "Gifted." I was put in a "special" class with a "special" teacher to take "special" courses. Most schools have these SAIL programs or ADVANCE groups for certain children. But Waukon Elementary, being truly demented and ruled by the oh so gargantuan principal Anne BoobGut Hart, took a different approach.

Seven kids were chosen from my class. We got taken to another room in the school. This room was colored bright orange and violet. The colors were said to enhance learning ability on a psychological level. TO me, it looked like someone gave a blind dyke a decorating liscense.

So anyhow, the seven "specials" are put into the "gifted" room and berrated to death with work. They were horrified that we could all get overtly bored and develop a strong, HardCORE case of ADD. And we all know that ADD leads to sex and meth.

So there wasnt much room to work in this tiny room. I swear to god it was like 4X4. When I asked my teacher, Ms. Mort., why it was so small, she would go into an hour and forty-five minute rant about the schoolboard. I think this is a part of every teacher. They hate their school board! They hate their fucking school board! But this room was minute. The desks were made for midgets, and would have been considered pathetic by the Keebler Elves.

I was constantly made a fool for my weight, the way I acted (naturally Nelly!) and this "specially gifted" thing didnt help.

Kids are some of the meanest creatures in the universe. They truly do achieve their self-esteem by throwing others down under their feet. If they didn't do this there'd be a helluva lot more pre-teen suicide. I, unfortunately, was always thrown under foot and stomped on. Rather than kill myself, I opted for anger!

So I had Issues. Being the Bitchy Queen that i am, I got mad, I got pissed, and then I Got Even!
During winter i catapauted chidlren into snowbanks. In spring i nearly drowned children in muddy puddles on the black top. Fall found me attempting to de-eye kids with sticks I'd plucked of an offering tree.

This was the gifted and talented future.

This program forced me into long hours of work and hours of beating myself up for not being good enough. Being "special" translated, for me, into be inadequate. I was in this program with Ms. Morton for two years. She had these 1950's horn rimmed glasses with rinestones all up the sides. They hung off her neck from a beaded string. These glasses reminded me of guns. Every time we'd ask her a question, whether or not she needed to read, she would pop on these horn rims and proceed in the most condescending manner. Those glasses were her guns. Her saggy tits were her battlements, her blue hair was her banner, ever showing proudly. God what a cunt!
These times were the dark ages.

These are the things in our lives that help to get us here. If I hadn't had Ms. Mort, I wouldn't have a natural hatred for 1950's attire. We live and we learn, then we get diapers!

toodles kids!

1. Being gay is not natural. And as you know Americans have always rejected unnatural things like eyeglasses, polyester, and air conditioning.

2. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.

3. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because, as you know, a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.

4. Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are still property, blacks still can't marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.

5. Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed. The sanctity of Britany Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage would be destroyed.

6. Straight marriages are valid because they produce children. Gay couples, infertile couples, and old people shouldn't be allowed to marry because our orphanages aren't full yet, and the world needs more children.

7. Obviously gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.

8. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That's why we have only one religion in America.

9. Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise children.

10. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven't adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans.