The Scary Future of the United States...

It's obvious. Many people just don't care about politics, and the country they live in. This is especially true in the current political environment in the United States. The largest group that NEEDS to get with the picture is people my own age, the current youngest voting bloc. Most people I know from school did not vote in last year's presidential election. In fact, some of these people, who have been able to vote for years BOAST about how they've NEVER voted before! That's really disgraceful, especially since these people are the ones who are most frequently found bitching about whatever they hear "reporters" tell them about what's going on with things like health care, town hall meetings, the stimulus package... Anything they can think of. And then, they become the "dittoheads" we as a country should NOT listen to! They have nothing to add to conversation, and the only information they have is talking points that have been hand-fed to them.

It's scary. VERY scary. I mean, even I've tried to keep my mouth shut about this, but reaction to my proclamation to my friends the other day about the death of Ted Kennedy was met with blank stares, and questions of "who's that?" THAT IS WHAT IS WRONG WITH AMERICANS! They have NO freakin' clue as to what's going on politically, and they don't care! It's one thing to not know who Ray Bradbury is (and that is another issue I have with these same people), but to know NOTHING about the current political state of affairs and then just repeat what you hear with no evidence to back your statements up is just WRONG!!!

HOW can America as a country prosper and get back to her older strength if the masses are uninformed? It just doesn't work!

Andy

Hey guys, this one is really personal to me, and it is something that's completely true to me. If you're uncomfortable with a blog post that mentions sex, this would be a good post to ignore...

















I can't stand it. I can't stand thinking about Andy and missing him and realizing that when I fantasize about sex, I see him moving over me, in me, around me, love shining at me through his dark sensual eyes. I haven't seen him nor talked to him in years, and I still miss the relationship I had with my former best friend. Andy was the best I had, and then I lost him, and lost a part of me. I want him back in my life with a desperation that I know nowhere else in me.

There isn't a day that passes when I don't think about him, even if only for a brief second.

At this point, he's been gone from my life so long that I'm kind of numb thinking about him, but then I walk by something or see something that reminds me of him, and I'm no longer numb. My chest burns in pain, and I wish desperately again to see him, hang out like we used to…

I'll always remember watching The 10th Kingdom with him, him laying on the couch, me laying on his chest, just relaxing together, smiling, and enjoying some quality escapism on the laptop screen in front of us.

I remember that he fell asleep under me once, missed at least half an hour of the movie, and while he slept, his arm came down and wrapped around my waist. I wish now that I'd had the foresight to ask my mom or dad to take a picture of us like that. It would be a comfort for me now.

However, I just can't forget that he chose his girlfriend over me. I understand that there's a distinction between a man's best friend and his girlfriend, especially when he's a year older than his best friend. But, from what I do recall of our relationship, he'd been telling me he loved me for a couple months, and I to this day believe he meant it as nothing more than a close friendship type of love. I'd even gotten so comfortable that I'd tell him I loved him back. Then, a couple months after this started, he stopped calling and asking to hang out. I'd call him instead, and he was never home (granted, he IS a year older, and was already at CSUN, but still…), so he never really had time to visit. But, when he was home on weekends visiting, he didn't have time for me either.

I think the moment I realized that the close friendship we'd cultivated and shared for so many years was over was when I was at a bar or bat mitzvah, miserable out of my mind. I called him, and he picked up the phone. When I told him I missed him, and wanted to see him soon, there was hesitation on his side of the line. There was a long pause before he told me he missed me too, but he had to go. That was the breaking point. When my family left that damned bar or bat mitzvah, I was struggling to keep my composure. I'm still not sure how I lasted until I got home before crying.

I think he broke me that day. It's years later, and I still can find guys attractive, but none have really made me stand up and take notice. I can't feel more than friendship for them, and I'm scared that I'm going to end up alone for the rest of my life.

I just want to hug and cuddle Andy one more time. He was my friend, my protector, and in many non-physical ways, the love of my life. I just hope he wasn't my soul mate. That would just kill me now, since if I ever really saw him again, I don't think I'd be able to talk to him without trying to hurt him the way he's hurt me.

Strangely enough, I don't think he realized or cared about how much he hurt me.

Damn! When I'm Depressed, I'm Seriously Depressed!

Ok, first things first: I DO NOT currently feel at all like the post below. I just found this on my computer, and realized that I basically wrote two different things about the same incident, which is a few posts below this one - YES, the one about my being depressed over Hugh Jackman... The one called Realizations.

I was REALLY upset, and probably part of it was because I was punchy. I typed up a rough draft, then saved and ignored it. The below text is what I originally wrote about that incident.

Also, please note that this is out of date, as tomorrow HJ will be in Los Angeles, getting his star on the Walk of Fame (it's open to the public, and I can't even freakin' go - Damned school!) He hasn't been in Australia for quite a while now.

Again: DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME! I'M FINE! I'M HAPPY! THIS IS OLD!




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I think I have sufficiently broken down enough to write something.

Realization's a bitch. Yes, a large cliché, but still the truth. When I woke up yesterday, I was still the same shallow dreamer as pretty much every other person on the planet. I still dreamed of meeting my celebrity idols, and having them respect me as much as I respect and admire them.

I was wrong. Simple as that. No celebrity gives a fuck, especially since they have their own lives to lead, regardless of how many fans they have or how much success those fans bring them.

I think I really realized this when I was on Twitter earlier. Hugh Jackman is my favorite actor, and I check his Twitter several times a day. The latest thing he posted was a picture of himself and a fan who had created his own set of Wolverine claws. I know that he's currently in Australia, promoting the hell out of Wolverine, but somehow, just looking at that picture, I realized that the fantasy was broken.

I knew as I tormented myself by staring for long minutes at that picture that I would NEVER be that fan, smiling and happy in the picture with a celebrity that I idolize. I'm just one of the millions, deceiving myself into believing that I COULD be that person. Doesn't mean it's ever gonna happen, but that's exactly what delusions are.

I think many of my favorite book characters have it right: Life's a bitch and then you die.

Realizations

What does it mean when you look at a picture of something, and you feel your inner being clench with pain at the realization that the picture is something that can never happen to you?

Yes, it's very late right now, but I'm reclining in my bed, completely on the verge of tears because of this picture.


I looked at this, which I got from a link from Hugh Jackman's twitter, and I completely realized that my dreams and aspirations for meeting him and his wife are for naught. When am I ever going to have a chance to sit with someone of their fame, and get to ask the questions I dream of asking them? I think I've finally realized that that will never happen.

And it hurts. It hurts like hell. I may know many people in the industry, and I may even hang with them and their friends on occasion, but I'm never going to be one of them. I'm always going to be one of the many; the fans who use celebrities and the illusion that surrounds them to live out their lives in daydreams.

I thought I was stronger than that. I thought I was smarter.

I'm not.

Consider This the 'Broken Heart Journal Entry'...

Somehow, I didn’t think I could hurt this much ever again. I guess I really fell for Warren in only 2 days. I’ve been checking my email every few hours, hoping beyond all hope that he’ll respond to my email. I guess I’m just stupid. Now my chest is burning with tears that I don’t want to shed over the fact that there is no response, and I’m still all alone.

I know that I’ve been told countless times that I’m rather attractive, but I’ve never felt that way. I’m a short, stubby girl who has only got big boobs going for her. I am constantly reminded that I’m heavier than I should be, to the point that I can’t even accept my body at all. I’m just an entity living in it.

And to make it worse, I can only dream of having someone special to me. There is no one, except the ones who are in my dreams, regardless of how much I want more.

My friends all have boyfriends, yet I do not, and I wish that I did more than anything else. I’m desperate beyond all reasons that I can rationalize.

Warren not responding really hurts, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because he listened to me while I talked, and I felt this warm connection to him. Maybe the reason is entirely different. For the first time in my life, I really FELT when I first saw him. He was cute, and totally not the typical kind of guy I like. He’s blond, for one. I tend to go for brunettes. Then he’s also really smart, and foreign. He spoke of things I can only dream of doing, like going overseas to a place where he’s got no family nearby. How I wish I could do that.

But there was just, this spark. My chest felt constricted when I looked at him, and not in a bad way. I was hot and cold, and my heart simultaneously sped up and slowed down when he first smiled at me.

I really considered missing the premiere of Wolverine and the X-Men just to continue to talk to him. I’m kinda glad that I didn’t, though.

When I spoke to him, I told him about my writing, and we discussed alternate universes where the opposite happens to whatever happens here. For example, I told him that if I had a chance to either go on a date or go out with my friends, but I chose the date and got into a bad car accident on the way home in this universe, then in the alternate universe I would have gone with my friends and been fine.

I started thinking about how that would affect what happened with me when I met him. If I had chosen to stay and chat instead of going to the premiere, what would have happened? If I had chosen not to go at all, then I never would have met him. Hell, I never would have had the chance to search him out as I left to say goodnight. I wonder if that was the wrong thing to do.

Maybe I scared him away the next day, by going with Jenna and letting him know that I took the time to search for him, just so I could ask for his email and tell him that I enjoyed talking to him the night before. At least I got a picture and his email, which brings me back to where I started. I’m now wondering how often he checks his email, and if I’ll ever get a response, especially since it looks like I’m not getting one today.

My heart is clenching in a bad way at the thought. I need to talk to him again. I should have asked for his phone number, or given him my email or something. But then again, if I had, maybe he would have thought less of me…

I don’t know how he feels about me, and I think that hurts the most.