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Mary Ann

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... [07 Aug 2005|09:20pm]
RIP Peter Jennings...
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Sadbadkaka-asikawawa day. [03 Aug 2005|10:37pm]
So, it's around 7:45 AM when the sun decides to grace my lovely room with its heat. Since my parents room is always cooler, and no one's there, it's been my ritual to move my happy ass on over there to sleep. I move there and just when I'm about to close my eyes, the doorbell rings. Who is it? TERMINIX! Great. I let him in and he asks what kind of nasty little shits have we had problems with. Ants, man. An army of ants. Not just any army, we're talking American troops chillin' in your country for a few years kind of invasion. Anyway, after a spiel about American roaches vs. water cockroaches and a little trip to locate where the ants are coming from, the guy finally sprays the house. That means, I'm kicked out for a good 2 hours...that is unless I want deformed offspring later on in life.

I had to leave anyway, had to pick up mother. 2 hours to kill. What do we do? Breakfast at IHOP. Shitty food. Obviously frozen because the eggs, sausage, and pancakes were swimming in its water. Cute worker though, definitely "eye fucked the shit out of me." The runny food wasn't cutting it, so mom and I went to T.J Maxx, found shit there, and then went to some craft store in that vicinity. What song begins to play as soon as I walk in?!?! "Lonely...I'm Mr. Lonely..I have nobody to call my own...(the original, mind you.)" Mom looks at me and she says, "who plays this song in a store?! Let's go..." She then reminds me to wash my car and fill up the tank. Lord, this is where it gets ugly.

Fill up the tank at Arco, being that it's cheaper compared to shell, pay for the wash, my car's is getting fairly clean, hit the dryer, then boom! The rubberseal on my roof decides to break and hit my window. Holy shit, what the fuck is that? My attempts at fixing were relatively decent, when I put the seal back in its place, it didn't seem that noticeable. So, drive home and mom decides to fix it even more. I tell her to get inside, but she screams for me to go outside and look what happened to my car. Scratches all over my car. And baby, those scratches did not occur during the .5 mile trip back to the house. Make a long story a bit shorter, I called their corporate office, went back to speak to the manager, she was a bitch, gave me the wrong number to call, call back corporate, told me what to do, called my insurance, they told me what to do, painful etc. after painful etc. Hopefully all will clear up soon. After all of that, I had to go to work.

Work was okay, only stayed for like 4 hours. I had to work the fitting rooms and, good Lord, it was hectic. Probably because all of the denim is on sale. I had an ART! or at least I think I did. So, girl comes in probably around 12-13 with one item. I ask her for her name and she says Jenneny. Her little friend starts laughing. I take her item for her, and she's a little nervous to give it to me. Weird. Anyway, I give her the room, hand the item back and go about my usual stuff. So I'm doing my rounds and I hear a load of giggling from that room with Jenneny. Obviously her friend is in there, so I have to play Ms. breaking-up-the-fun-now woman and tell her that her friend can't stay in the room with her, store policy. Clicked in my head that she's been in there for HELLA long, with only one item. They leave and I get on my mic. Dude, little girl, Jenneny, ART! Oh God, that was great. Well, I finished my shift with a load of coffee talk, big haired, jerseys girls in the dressing room. I go to my car and looky here, not 1 bird, but 3 birds decided to shit on my car. It's kinda like God's way of shitting on my life today. Man, thanks! On top of that, I pop a cd in (everyone knows I don't label since I like surprises) and it's my ultra sad cd. We're talking Coldplay - Sparks/Boyz II Men - Water Runs Dry/ Tony Rich Project - When Can I See You Again/ Alicia Keys - For All We Know/ Lifehouse...anything. This is yet another reason, why I don't really like Coldplay. His voice is so heartbreakingly sad, but you can't help but listen to it over and over again. But that's for another post. I digress.

I come home, parents are sinking karaeoke (sp) and mom dedicates a song to me. Wait, no two songs. First Song: Mr. Lonely. Second Song - Crazy. Mr. Lonely Crazy. Story of my life?

* The night was good, Dad bought me 2 pairs of argyle socks to make me feel better and treated Mother and me to Sizzler, just for old time's sake. Fucking Sizzler!
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We're only several miles from the sun... [01 Aug 2005|04:02pm]
But I cannot forget
Refuse to regret
So glad I met you
Take my breath away
Make everyday
Worth all of the pain that I have
Gone through
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Holy God... [01 Aug 2005|12:38am]
My aunt is referring me to the dean of students at Columbia University. That's right, Columbia University in NY!!!
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STOMP! [30 Jul 2005|11:51am]
STOMP! was amazing. It's kinda like Charlie Chaplin meets this generation's street performers - complete with tap dancing and sink drumming. I wish I could explain it here, but, man, you just have to see it for yourself. Jenivee and I were seriously smiling the whole time and saying, "you can make music with that?!?!" Afterwards, I kid you not, I seriously every little sound to me turned into music. It was great.
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Retaliation, motherfuckers! I can't hear you Burger King! [28 Jul 2005|12:04am]
"Sometimes it doesn't go great and I call that a relationshit. When you're not in love, when you don't have love, everyone you know falls in love. Even Karen the Douchebag falls in love...I came up with the perfect analogy. This is what it feels like, when you don't have love, it's like there's a party going on and everyone is invited except for you. And you just happen to be walking by that house in the rain. 'ehhhh, I wasn't invited to this party.' That's what it feels like. But then again, once you're in love, know what that's like? That's like being inside that party and going, 'where's my jacket? I want to get out of here. Where's my jacket, I've been in this party for 6 years and I wanna see other parties. Someone shit on the coats!'" - Dane Cook
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The Marrying Kind [27 Jul 2005|10:02pm]
The other day, a friend I once dated asked me what made Tiffany and Co. so special. I didn't really know what to say other than that is the jewelry is simply the best. Obviously dissatisfied with my report, I turned to Camille, knowing that she is the master of fine jewelry. She informs me that a Tiffany's ring is known for having the best diamonds along with cut, clarity, and settings in the world. Armed with the knowledge she gave me, I gave him better feedback. So he was pleased and I thought about it for a second. "Are you in the market for an engagement ring?" I asked. Obviously, he was settling in on the idea of marriage with his longtime girlfriend and I couldn't be any happier for him. I even promised that Camille and I would help him find a nice ring some time next week.
After our conversation was long over, marriage was still looming over my head. I felt a little strange knowing that someone I dated will be marrying the girl who came in right after me. Then to my horror, I realized that this wasn't the first for me. When I was 16, my boyfriend at the time left me for someone "he could relate to more." They're now married with a child. At 18, I was number two in the eyes of another failed relationship. "The one" position belonged to a friend of mine. It's only a matter of days as to when I'll get the invitation to their engagement/wedding. Maybe, I'll be the guestbook/presents person in their wedding since they met through me, Camille can be a bridesmaid and bone the best man, and Stephanie can read some sappy poem since she is the favorite writer (sorry, bad Sex and the City joke.)
Marriage is something I rarely talk about, but with all these thoughts running through my head, I can't help but wonder if I'm truly not the marrying kind. I'm only 19, but there has to be something going with me that past relations seem to find their mate in the girl proceeding me. Did I just pick the wrong men? It seems that with these three relationships, I was the "out of the norm" girl. Perhaps, dating me would get that need to try something different out of their system. (Note to self: if you want to try something different, eat Afghani food.) Or was it me just being too ambitious, stubborn, difficult, wild? Whatever it may be, obviously I was not the one they wanted to be with.
At first, I was sad when I thought about it, but after a few conversations with my mom, my aunts, and my best friends, I've come to accept the fact that marriage may not be whats in store for me. Sure, someone who will play witness to my life would be fantastic, but I'm not hellbent on looking for him. Maybe, I really am destined to make it big in this world...on my own. And I'm okay with it, completely fine. You see, I realized that there must be more to life than marriage. Soulmates, spouses, lovers, it's all bullshit until you really find and love yourself. And, baby, I'm having a fabulous time finding myself by myself.
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Weird fact [27 Jul 2005|01:46pm]
Camille thinks I'm completely strange for this, but I'm obsessed with crimelibrary.com. I kid you not, I can tell you the stories of Ted Bundy, The Manson Family, The Sacramento Vampire, Son of Sam, BTK, The Amityville Massacre, Jeffrey Dahmer, etc. The stories that tend to freak me out the most are the ones about necrophiliacs aka those who have sex with the dead. Jeffrey Dahmer was beyond necrophiliac. You see, he had sex with his victims before they died, during the time that they were dying, and after they were dead.
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Too Funny [26 Jul 2005|10:56am]
"I'm all talk. I don't fight. This face is too pretty to get messed up" - Me

"I swear I'm gonna say something HELLA random and stupid...so...you still a virgin? wanna change that?" - Camille

"[on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory] I know what's going to happen and still I'm like this (proceeds to move to the edge of her seat in wide eyed wonderment)" - Camille

"[on Augustus Gloop] HE ISN'T REAL! - Camille

"[on whether, we'd still be friends with Camille if she was ugly] Probably not, your face would bother me too much." - Steph

"You know you come from the ghetto when someone says 'she's in jail' and you act like it's nothing." - Alex

"What? Do you want me to mount you right here?!" - Patrick

"You finna clown with us bro? This finna be on MYPLACE DOT COM. I'm clownin' baby!" - Jouie

Jay: I'd sell my body for money but its immoral

Me: When did you start caring about morals?

Me: There's either Mexican or Popeyes to eat here in Pittsburg

Steph: So basically, you gotta choose between the Beaners and the Niggaz?
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Rudolph [20 Jul 2005|07:16pm]
I have a huge red zit right in the center of my nose. My mom and I went to Fresh Choice for lunch when it was noticed. "Mary Ann," she says, "you're in love and you're too stubborn to admit it, that's why you have a big pimple on your nose...You only get pimples when you refuse yourself, it's an Abella trait..." (note: I must adlib for my Filipino mother. To truly imagine her saying that, you must remember that her English is followed by a few distinctive Ilocano words and...sounds)
Throughout the day, I argued with her, saying that I'm too young, too selfish, and everything else in between. I am incapable of that sort of emotion...right now. Then it hit when I flashbacked. I felt like I was in one of those movie flashbacks where you remember all of a person's quirks; the things that they say or do, and you can't help but smile, maybe even let out a laugh or two. Regardless of the fact that this person is with you today or not, you feel lucky enough to have the memories with you always. I feel happy...the carefree unbelievable kind of happiness that seriously makes you smile at the world, even if the world has posted on your fridge that it hates you.
I don't really care or intend to admit it to him. Simply admitting it to myself has lifted a weight off my shoulders and that's all that really matters to me.

Flashbacks (a few):
His geeky "Revenge of the Nerds" laugh and the fact that he tries to cover it up.
When I said, "I'm gonna miss you, you cunt." He laughed and said, "Okay Samantha."
He said he was a libertarian and I instinctively laughed. I told him that he might as well tell me he's a fascist anarchist who worships Stalin. His rebuttal was that, since I was in college, of course I'm gonna follow the liberal group and be a Democrat. I punched him in the chest.
When he got really upset about my pay at AE, calling them a bunch of bourgeois assholes.
The fact that we both believe that Scott Weiland is the last great American rockstar.
He kisses my forehead when I'm being irrational.
We argue about who's the better late night talkshow host. I'm a Leno fan, while he's a Kimmel/Conan fan.
He farts during the morning pee and, believe you me, I can hear it...very well.
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For All We Know... [16 Jul 2005|01:23pm]
I'm notorious for expressing myself either through my art or my music. I was watching Live8 on MTV when Alicia Keys came on to sing Nat King Cole's For All We Know. The way she sang it was so hauntingly beautiful that I still get shivers up and down my spine when I listen to it. I've listened to it nonstop since I found it on Bearshare and it still breaks my heart each time I play it. It feels so unbelievably real and it's torturous.


Time is my enemy and my best friend. Yet with each day that passes, the guilt grows stronger and I can't help but wonder if I've made one of the bigger mistakes of my life. By now, I should loathe him, believe that he isn't worth it, and move on. I love/hate how he's proven me wrong on so many occasions, now I can't seem to let go. Camille said that I should quit being stubborn and just talk to him. Yet, like I said, I'm stubborn...and fearful of what I might do...

For all we know we may never meet again
Before you go make this moment sweet again
We won’t say good night until the last minute
I’ll hold out my hand and my heart will be in it

For all we know this may only be a dream
We come and go like a ripple of a stream
So love me tonight; tomorrow was made for some
Tomorrow may never come for all we know
So love me tonight; tomorrow was made for some
Tomorrow may never come for all we know
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American Eagle [10 Jul 2005|01:42pm]
I'm sitting here, writing with delirium written in my pupils. I worked from 9 PM to 7:30 AM. Yes, I have my AM's and PM's straight! Oh Lord, it got so bad that Camille began monologue-ing and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I couldn't even let out a full round of laughter, it was more quick uncontrolled breathing. I should be sleeping, but I can't! Ya know why?!?! I HAVE WORK AT 4, today!! ufkjda;ljr5390482
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War of the World(s) [09 Jul 2005|01:55am]
I don't know whether to be relieved or terrified by the fact that our world simply can't be taken over by another species from another planet. Why? It's simple enough, the way the world is going to end is that it's going to simply implode. For all your visual learners (and for those who get a kick out of making fun of everyone) , I give you a flash interpretation of "The End of the World."


Thanks, Camille.
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GO! [08 Jul 2005|11:53am]
[ mood | accomplished ]

1,2,3...Collapse )

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[07 Jul 2005|02:00am]
I miss you, you cunt
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I don't wanna get too close... [28 Jun 2005|10:45pm]
[ mood | lonely ]

Perhaps this is what it feels like to have my skin a little tougher. There was no heated argument proclaiming hatred towards each other. There was no plea to stay for one more day. No bitter or tearful goodbye; there wasn't even an actual goodbye. It was more of an assumed thing on my part. I took my first steps in "annexing" him from my life today - the dreaded removal of everything that could possibly make me think of him bit. When this whole thing started, I knew what I was getting myself into. It was non-commited bliss. I have my own life, you have your own, we'll meet somewhere in the middle kinda thing. Over time, like every other woman on the planet, my feelings were becoming stronger. Even moreso at my attempts at fending it off. I wanted to believe that he was not important to me and, somewhere along the line, he'll realize that too. So in true Samantha Jones form, I went out to make mistakes, which, by the way, was a pretty ridiculous way of justifying my forced beliefs because, obviously, it did not work! The lying to myself bled through when I still found myself running back to him. I always made it clear that I wasn't ready to be with anyone. I've said so many times that I didn't want anything serious, that I didn't want to get too close. With each "mistake" I felt the pang of something not feeling right, not feeling the same, to be cliche. Right then I realized, I didn't want anyone...I just want(ed) him and only him. Every other one, every other thing paled in comparison to how right, how good I felt with him. Rather than go on with these shenanigans, perhaps even to give back my wounded pride some of its dignity, it really is best to let him go. My heart is broken, but it's no one's doing but myself.

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Take it from me, parents just don't understand. [22 Jun 2005|04:50pm]
Have you ever had those moments where you love your parents, but you don't really like them? Like, if they weren't your parents, they'd be those people you wouldn't care to associate with? Sometimes I really do think they're better off divorcing.

Moments where I don't supress my ghetto side. [18 Jun 2005|09:57pm]

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Brighter Than Sunshine [08 Jun 2005|10:23pm]
[ mood | peaceful ]

Let the rain fall, I don't care
I'm yours and suddenly you're mine
Suddenly you're mine
and it's brighter than sunshine

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[05 Jun 2005|04:02pm]
"It seems that no matter how far I go, in the long run, I always end up where you are. You, being the person that I'm running away from."

The week without a computer has given me some inspiration to write a few stories. Maybe a few short stories or just one long novel. I'll give it a shot.
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