A Normal, Respectable Citizen/Something Out Of A “House” Episode

I somewhat apologize for not finishing this a week ago…

Thursday, December 27th, was a day I was fully expecting and equally dreading. Fully expecting because I knew what would happen because I’d had said procedure done before, equally dreading because I hate hospitals with a fiery passion…

And to think, I used to want to be a doctor. What would my six-year-old self say?

…I thought I’d had an MRI (the procedure in question) done before because I did the same necessary preparation with a CAT scan I’d had done a while ago, but it turns out I was wrong. I never had an MRI. I should have realized the difference between the two when my doctor told me that I would need to remove my piercings.

I removed my earrings before I went to bed, leaving the task of taking out my snakebites to when I had some much-needed sleep behind me. Staring back at me, some hours later, I found myself without any surgical steel in my skin whatsoever. I felt naked without the familiar silver labrets through my lip. I’ve taken them out for medical procedures before, not to mention every time I clean them (Listerine every morning and night, and yet I’m still a clean freak), but I’d never had them not be a part of my being for as long as they were…Which I will elaborate on later.

The first thing that came to mind when I saw myself ‘without’ my snakebites was how incredibly normal I look. Yes, you heard right. I looked a normal, respectable citizen. Now I’m not saying that I’m not a respectable citizen because I am, but that isn’t always the vibe that’s given off. I do look young for my age (which isn’t in any way a problem) and the leather jacket I wear, combined with the piercings, might suggest some kind of rebellion, so I guess I know how the vibe can be unsavory, but still. I can’t count the number of times I’ve noticed individuals looking at me because of the two 14 gauge silver labrets in my lip, and if I don’t notice, my mom surely will. I’m not saying that I care what people think of me because I don’t. I learned a long time ago that it’s pointless to be worried about what others think of me because I am the way I am, and what some stranger thinks of me doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Okay, maybe that’s kind of a half truth. I don’t care what people think of me, but in the same breath, I admit it bothers me sometimes when I catch someone staring at me because of my snakebites…

Can’t people just be real and ask whatever question it is that might be running through their cranium, instead of staring? I remember when I first got the piercings, I would get asked all the time if they hurt. I later attributed said question to the fact that the two 16 gauge lip rings driven through my lip were pretty big…The smaller the gauge number, the bigger the gauge…There was one incident that occurred a couple of months ago that outshines them all. I was at the store, and someone who actually worked there asked me if my snakebites had hurt. I kind of saw the gentleman looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t want him to notice that saw him. Out of nowhere, he asked me if they’d hurt, and honestly, I was pretty surprised. I told him only the left one hurt the most because it was the first one to be pierced, leaving the right to not be bad at all. We exchanged a couple more words, and then got on with whatever it was we were doing. Now whenever I go into that particular store, I can’t help but smile.

…Oddly enough, I didn’t feel that foreboding sense of eyes staring at me the during the time I spent at the hospital. Sure, the nurse who put an IV in my arm looked at my arms for said vein, another nurse looked straight at me so I would understand what the preparation entailed (even though I knew what I was getting myself into) and I attracted looks from other nurses whenever I walked down the seemingly long hallway from the room I was in to the restroom and back again, but those were all expected. They were just doing their jobs, making sure I understood, checking in every now and then to see how I was doing, not to mention reminding me that I was under a slight time crunch.

The time crunch being the hour I had to drink three bottles of barium sulfate suspension. I didn’t just pull that name out of my head, that’s actually what it’s called. If you’ve never had any kind of imaging concerning your entrails, barium sulfate suspension helps better bring out whatever pictures are needed of said entrails …I said entrails twice in one sentence, and the first thing that comes to mind is The Black Dahlia Murder. Oh, metal…An hour might not seem like much of a time crunch, but it’s amazing how quick one hour passes on the clock, especially when the barium sulfate suspension you’re drinking isn’t exactly a Dr. Pepper. It’s not the most pleasant thing on the planet to drink, but it isn’t so incredibly bad that you’ll heave. I mean, I did make a “pukey-face” (similar to that of Dean’s expression at roughly 1:08 and again at 1:35 in the Supernatural reference clip at the end of this post), but thankfully didn’t actually puke.

For a minute, I felt like I was in an episode of House. Any minute now, Hugh Laurie will come walking through the door, saying that whatever could be wrong with me (other than what already is) is so incredibly simple to cure, and that an MRI isn’t necessary. If only Gregory House wasn’t fictional…In between pondering the House scenario and watching something about the Freemasons on the History Channel, I noticed that I’d already polished off two of the three bottles, ready, willing and able to slay the third with the same determination. Unfortunately, the same vigor and steadfast will didn’t come into play. The third bottle proved to be my Achilles’ heel, its weapon of choice a barium-and-hunger induced stomach-ache. Luckily, I pulled myself out of my own little hurt locker, made the weakness temporary and eventually finished the third and final bottle. Suck it, barium sulfate suspension.

Upon finally ingesting the last of the bottles, I was lead to the radiology section of the ward…”I walked the ward with you, babe. A thousand times with you.” Oh, Black Veil Brides. I commend you for putting a spin on a Billy Idol classic. Sorry, the music fanatic in me made me do it…I was scanned with a metal detecting wand, reassuring that I didn’t have any metal in my body or on my person. The very first thing that I noticed once I walked into the actual MRI room was that it was extremely cold. That’s the one thing I noticed about hospitals. It’s always cold, except in the actual doctor’s office. Every doctor’s office I’ve been into has always been unseasonably warm. I think it’s something that’s done on purpose to embarrass you, making it just warm enough to make you comfortable enough to want to fall asleep. I’ve either been caught sleeping or was close enough to feel its calming embrace, only to be kick started awake by paranoia.

The entire procedure itself seemed to take longer than the fourty-five minutes I was told it would. I’ve never been one to be claustrophobic, but I have to admit it did feel a little strange. Before any of the procedure even started, headphones were put on my head to cancel out the particularly loud noise the machines made whenever a picture was being taken…When I came home, I was telling my dad about it, and he said that they asked him what his favorite station was, what music did he like. I have to admit while I was kind of jealous, I’m glad that I didn’t have music playing. It would just be a distraction…The first thing that came to mind was Alex from A Clockwork Orange, restrained in the chair during the ‘Ludovico’ scene. Only then did that claustrophobic kind of feeling start to rise in my stomach, quickly replaced by the fleeting growl of hunger. My arms were strapped down so I wouldn’t move, and I had these thin weights on my upper and lower stomach, the areas where the images would be taken. The restraint on my arms and the feeling of the weights weren’t really bothersome because after a while I was sort of used to the numbness, that kind of foot-falling-asleep-feeling, without the aftershock sensation of pins and needles.

After what seemed like hours of falling in and out of real sleep and countless breathing exercises to ensure the proper picture, the MRI was finished. I was then accompanied back to my room, and given my choice of apple juice and saltine crackers. I got through my second pack of crackers and a couple sips of apple juice, only for my IV to be taken out and escorted back to the locker room where the rest of my clothes were. Once I got dressed and such, I made my way back into the waiting room, only to discover that there wasn’t as many people as there were before. I looked at my phone to see what time it was, and to my surprise and dismay, it was almost six ‘o clock.

Three and a half hours.

I wasted somewhere around three and a half hours at the hospital. I hate to use the word ‘wasted’ because it sounds a bit unpleasant and pessimistic, but that’s what it felt like. My entire afternoon was spent drinking barium sulfate suspension, in order to get a better sense of what could possibly be going wrong in my stomach, only to get the answer I somewhat expected several days later…The phone rang on New Year’s Eve, and I found out from my mom (who answered the call), that there was no inflammation whatsoever and that everything was normal…I knew I would get those results, but I suppose it’s better have my time wasted and everything be okay, as oppose to something being wrong. I don’t think my body would be too pleased if something else was wrong with me health-wise. I sure as hell know I wouldn’t.

While it was rather pleasant to be looked at as a normal, respectable member of society (even though I loathe the word “normal”), instead of an outsider, I still don’t really mind too much about what people think. My earlier feelings concerning my snakebites probably sound contradictory, but I wouldn’t be a human being if I didn’t have some flaws. Sure, I do present myself in a respectable fashion and try to always look my best (whether or not I feel as such), but that doesn’t mean I obsess over others’ opinions.  I present myself to the world with respect because if I didn’t value myself, not giving a damn about what I looked like before I walked out the door, then who would? The answer: No one. If you don’t have respect for yourself, it’s a lot harder for people to have respect for you.

On the health and medical front (as with my self-respect), I don’t see that changing any time soon. As much as I hate having Crohn’s Disease, it’s something that makes me unique, while at the same time, frustrates and angers me sometimes. It sucks, but it’s something I have to live with. Regardless of everything, and on a somewhat different note, I have high hopes for 2013. Something that I couldn’t say the beginning of last year.

I’m proud to be an outsider, snakebites and all.

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Graveyard Shift, Take 2

I should be sleeping right now. There are no two ways around that fact. My head should be resting on my headless Jack Skellington pillow case, listening to the tick-tock motions of the clock hanging in my room and Aiden’s latest release, Disguises, both slowly aiding in helping me achieve the sleep I so gravely desire. Needless to say, that isn’t happening or else I obviously wouldn’t be writing this post. Instead, I’m sitting on the futon in the area outside of my bedroom, listening to Aiden on shuffle on iTunes, wide awake.

Honestly, I’m not too sure how I’m as awake as I am. This past weekend, I got a grand total of 7 and a half hours of sleep…3 and a half hours Sunday morning when I came home at 6 in the morning from my second overnight 10pm to 6am price changing spree, and 4 hours Monday morning, waking up for the usual early morning shift that starts ironically at 6 in the morning…I’m not complaining that I’m not getting enough sleep because that’s the last thing I want to do. I remember there was a time where I couldn’t fall asleep to save my life and a part of me hated it, while the other embraced its ability to unleash my creative chaos. Now, I honestly don’t want to fall asleep. I feel bad for falling asleep during the day, especially on a day that I don’t work. I feel like if I sleep in or nap during the day, then I didn’t accomplish anything, like my day is ruined, wasted. Why do I feel like this? I haven’t the slightly idea. I actually miss not being able to fall asleep. My creative side misses the random early morning writing sprees, accompanied by my iTunes library on shuffle. There have been nights/mornings where I battle the monster of Insomnia and the plague of stomach pain, but I wouldn’t say those count…My creative side doesn’t appreciate those nights/mornings at all, the same can be said for my not-so-creative side. No matter which way you cut it, nights/mornings like that suck majorly.

Luckily this Tuesday morning, I’m not plagued by anything except the fact that I’m wide awake. I wouldn’t really call that being plagued because this post is coming out of my inability of wanting to fall asleep, and usually being plagued wouldn’t produce anything but frustration and an hour or two of just staring at my alarm clock, shuffling through my Classic. Therefore, I’m not necessarily plagued per say, just able to find enough energy to create something meaningful out of an unlikely situation.

…It’s now almost noon on this Tuesday morning, and in case you haven’t been paying attention or fell asleep, you’ll notice that I myself fell asleep. Yes, I honestly thought I was stronger than that, but after walking around my kitchen aimlessly with Aiden on shuffle on my iPod, then retreating to my room, I found myself gravitating to my comfy sheets at a quicker rate than usual. Now, that I’m more well-rested than I was at 1 this morning, I’m not too sure what to write about now. I blame the lack of sleep…Lack of sleep ironically makes me think more, causing me to spill whatever I’m thinking about onto my keyboard…Plus my laptop was already turned on, the shining beacon of possibility among my never-ending harbor of racing thoughts. Yes, you read right. I just typed that. Unfortunately, it is true at the moment. I not too sure what to write about. Sure, my mind is racing as usual, but it’s more or less just the itinerary of my day off, which isn’t very interesting and I don’t want to disappoint with something that isn’t remotely interesting. I bet that if I was attending school right now, I would have loads of interesting things to share. Then again if I had classes, I probably wouldn’t be finishing this post and there’s a good chance it might not have been written because I would’ve already been sleeping by the time I started composing it early this morning. There certainly are advantages to that fact, but this is not a ranting post and I don’t want to turn it into one so close to the end. Besides, I’ve already ranted about college and I hate to repeat myself.

Right now, it’s a little after 1 and I’m listening to The Word Alive. I might as well find something interesting to do now that I’m not a walking zombie. Maybe get a Grande fancy coffee drink from Starbucks and if the weather persists to be somewhat beautiful, go to the park and then after watch The Shining with my boyfriend. Who knows, maybe I’ll go on an adventure and discover something outrageously interesting to write about along the way. Maybe I’ll go out on a whim and get another piercing without telling anyone…Which I honestly just might do one day, just not today. I’m not psyched up for it and the proper notifications haven’t been made, but when it happens, I will surely write about it.

This is what happens when I work the weekend graveyard shift. I can’t fall asleep, then I end up falling asleep later. Don’t worry, there’s more to come…And I will dub it ‘Graveyard shift, Take 3’. *hint, hint*.

It’s amazing what happens when you can’t sleep.

Among Many Firsts 

Being an avid reader, I would’ve thought that it was somewhere I’d gone frequently, but it turns out that that was not the case. Immediately walking through the doors, I felt some strange and interesting sense, of well, belonging. The place I’m talking about, ladies and gentlemen, is Borders.

Okay, so I know that walking into Borders might not be such a big deal to most people, but seeing as I don’t exactly view myself as most people (call it whatever you want to) and the fact that I’d never been in that particular store before, it’s a big deal to me. It was just the coolest thing to me…Seeing so many books and magazines, along with a Seattle’s Best coffee shop built right in, it was just amazing to me… My own little piece of vanilla coated and caramel drenched heaven. I probably sound like a total book nerd and/or caffeine addict, but with every fiber of my being, I don’t care. The Borders bookstore across the street from the mall that my boyfriend and I had exited yesterday amazed me and that is that.

But back to what really matters. It is indeed safe to say that this entire week was a great deal of firsts. For starters, not only did I enter a gigantic Borders for the first time, and proceed to try Seattle’s Best, I read Metal Hammer magazine for the first time. Ever. I’m usually enthralled whenever I get my monthly issue of Revolver, but this was totally different. Upon walking in, we found ourselves drawn to the magazine section. We went from the Culture & Politics to the ever-important and far more interesting Music section. The first thing that caught my eye was a magazine with Muse lead Matthew Bellamy on the cover. I honestly don’t know why. My eyes quickly scanned over a little further until I saw this month’s issue of Alternative Press, fully equipped with Bring Me The Horizon’s Oli Sykes and Alkaline Trio’s Matt Skiba gracing the Warped Tour edition cover. I hadn’t read AP in years and thought I’d give it a quick read. I scanned through and noticed that there were some good bands on Warped Tour this year (despite the fact it already came to my city!).

Finding myself slightly bored with it, I put it back and discovered that my boyfriend and I had both discovered the July issue of Metal Hammer at the same time, or at least a few seconds after. Gracing the cover with their presence was Avenged Sevenfold. We both immediately noticed what was missing from the equation and equally found that it just didn’t look right. Where usually five black-clad men would stand now only four stood against the artful graffiti on the wall shot behind them. It was the first magazine cover we both had seen without the late, beloved drummer, Jimmy “The Rev” Sullivan. Cleverly enough, to our surprise, the graffiti on the wall shot behind the band was that of The Rev himself…With deathbat wings.

After saying that ‘it just doesn’t look the same’ and ‘we should totally read the article’, we decided to stop at the Seattle’s Best coffee conveniently attached to the bookstore and well, read the article. We both ordered cold coffees, one vanilla and the other caramel, and sat down at one of the many tables. We then proceeded to take turns reading, while enjoying the cool, sweet goodness of our coffee drinks. Just looking upon the Metal Hammer cover apparently wasn’t enough to see how much the band changed, I had to literally read to learn that. Sure enough when I took the magazine from where it was set on the table, I found that there was quite a lot that was different. I wouldn’t exactly go to that extreme and say that a lot of things were different, but it was all too clear that they’re growing up as individuals as oppose to just growing up as a band. My boyfriend and I both noticed little details that would’ve being so-called personal trademarks to each member have changed some way or another, giving way to a whole new array of trademarks. Sure, I think it’s safe to say that those insignificant brandings on each one of them will be missed somehow, but it is safe to say that it shows that they have the ability to change (as they’ve always had) and they still know how to embrace right now…Basically, the article psyched me up for their much anticipated fifth album, set to come out in the less than two weeks…More on that a little later.

Needless to say, drinking Seattle’s Best coffee and reading Metal Hammer were some firsts for me, but there are definitely more where those came from. For the first time in a very long while, I found two things from Hot Topic that were actually worth buying. Yes, you heard right… I found two things that were actually worth spending money on…There was a time when I would frequently buy something in Hot Topic, almost every time I went. I would walk in, and as if automatically find something I liked and bought it. The same cannot be said now. Don’t get me wrong, I still like the store, I just don’t find anything that I really like and, for that matter, would feel comfortable spending money on. Among all the new-age band tees and never-ending array of Twilight gear, I saw them: A black and white baseball style shirt with lime green, neon pink, and gray photo strips of a ribcage and a black Boondocks Saints tee, with “Veritas, Aequitas” in red down the sides. It made me smile all huge and goofy knowing that for once I’d actually found two shirts that I actually liked and didn’t feel like it would be a complete waste buying them.

Aside from my tee shirt purchases, I also thought I would try a different color for my lip rings. Yes, my lip is pierced. Twice to be correct and exact. Snakebites. I’ve had them for two months, but never really felt like mentioning them until now. It was definitely a first, walking into a tattoo shop that I’d never been in before, fully determined to get metal stakes driven through my lip one after the other. Okay, not really, but still. I’d been wanting to get my lip pierced for two years and after I got my braces off (which was last September!), I felt like it was time.

My dad and Timmy (yes, my boyfriend indeed has a name) accompanied me for the piercing-of-the-lip, which I thought was pretty cool and kind of strange at the same time…Anyway, as I looked around at the vibrant tattoo designs that graced the walls, I felt comfortable and not at all worried or scared about what was about to happen. I was taken back by one of the piercers, I honestly didn’t catch his name, and was told to sit down on a bench. We made some small talk as he put plastic gloves on and started to get all the needed equipment, then he told me to just relax, which surprisingly, I already kind of was. Two metal stakes driven through both sides of my lip and two 16g lip rings later, I was sitting on the couch in the waiting section of the tattoo shop, reading the assorted magazines and looking at tattoo designs with Timmy. I’ll admit that after I got them, I did regret it a little bit (mainly the constant need to be cleaned and the fact that there could be absolutely no kissing involved…thankfully prom was the weekend before!), but after a while, I didn’t mind. Especially, when I came into school that following Monday. I was honestly surprised at how many people said they liked it or that it looked good on me. Which, I would say that it indeed does. It’s a piercing that I can actually pull off. I’m happy to say that two months have passed since my snakebites and they healed up pretty nicely and kissing can no longer be scratched out of the equation. My lip rings are now an 18g, icy blue, as oppose to the silver 16g I was fitted with how long ago. I have to say that I favor the blue over silver, and the smaller size doesn’t hurt either. I’m honestly really glad I got snakebites.

These are my firsts so far. Granted, there are indeed probably a lot more, but I can’t think of them right now, or they just haven’t happened yet. Either way, being surrounded by a good amount of firsts is pretty good. I’m more than certain that there will be a whole assortment of adventures in store for me this summer. I just need to know where to look.

Never be afraid to try something new, you just might surprise yourself.

Last Day of Freedom

I woke up this morning to the unfamiliar chill coming from my open window. That minute, right then and there, I knew that summer is coming to a close. I stood on my bed and looked out the window. The sky looked grey, the equivalent of a fall morning. Despite the fact that it’s still August. I found myself waking up at 7:15, which is pretty early in my book. The earliest I’ve ever woken up this summer. Not the norm of 10:00, 11:00, or sometimes noon. No sir or madam, not today.

This summer went by too quickly. It strangely didn’t feel like it was going by very fast when it was still in its prime, but now that it’s tapering away, it’s gone by too quickly. I sort of feel like I wasted the summer away alittle bit. Like I did absolutely nothing for almost 2 and a half months. Contrary to my beliefs, this is so not true. I was actually free to do what I wanted, with some minor restrictions. No drinking or drunk tattoos/piercings, not that I would anyway. I’m smarter than that. I actually have some sense. With this freedom, I hung out with my friends, severed relationships with people I’m better off without, went to concerts, found out new things about my friends, broke in my new dark purple bathing suit, expressed a random assortment of my loves, hates and everything in between on this blog of mine you’re currently reading…I’d say I did alot this summer.

Today is the last day of summer break. School starts tomorrow, and I’m not mentally ready. My mind just isn’t motivated like my body is. Sometimes I wish summer didn’t have to be over. Today is my last day of summer freedom.

This year went by too fast.

Defective little dreamcatcher Pt. 2

All has not been fine and dandy in Noelle’s little dreamland. No sir or madam it hasn’t. Three days ago, I said that I thought my dreamcatcher was defective…Now, I think it’s truly is defective.

Yesterday morning, I woke up with a massive headache and gasping for air. Not something that I do very often when waking up. Not something that happens really at all. I had just woken up from a bad dream. No lie. A truly bizarre dream.

It started with me being at my friend Melodie’s house, except it didn’t look anything like her house. The inside was really cramped, and it didn’t look how I remembered. Granted, it’s been 4 years since I’ve been inside her house and it probably does look different now, but not like it did here. Out of nowhere, her boyfriend Tyler is there. He looked different. His hair was longer. The last time I saw him, it was short and blonde (probably his natural color…it’s been too many colors to count), and I doubt his hair grows that fast. They suggested that we all go see the fireworks, even though it’s clearly past the 4thof July. I decided to just go with it, and hope for the best.

The next thing I know, I’m sitting with Melodie and Tyler on someone’s front lawn, in what looks like a development. Which is totally weird because there is no suburban development of any kind by where either of us live. There were a couple other people sitting with us, but I had no idea who they were. Just then, I felt something in my tote bag. I didn’t remember having my Jack & Sally tote bag at all at Mel’s house. I reached in and found my cell phone, except it wasn’t my cell phone. This phone was dark red, the same color as my hair. I hit the screen of the new phone with my thumb, revealing that I had a new message…The message was from my ex-boyfriend.

In it, was an assortment of different pictures with words overlapping them. There was some random poem, an “I love you”, roses, and a merry-go-round, all in black & white. I was totally puzzled because I knew he would never send me this, especially since we’re not in a relationship anymore. I was going to show Melodie but thought better of it. The next message was even more unusual. My thumb touched the screen, and I saw his face. He was talking. I turned up the volume and heard what he was saying. “I love you. I want to get back together. I’ll change…I love you.” I just looked at the screen, dumbfounded. It was just so weird. I kept looking at the screen until I felt the phone vibrate again. It was another message with him talking again. This one was quite different, though. “I hate you. You ruined me. You ruined every chance I have at love. I hate you. I hate you.” He never told me he hated me when we were together. He never told me he loved me, either. Granted, we weren’t together for really that long. It was, like, a serious mood swing. Completely unexpected. I didn’t know what to feel or think.

All of a sudden I was in this room. It looked like a back room of a house. A line of computers against one wall, and couches and chairs scattered around. What’s up with computers in my dreams? Maybe it’s because I use mine almost every single day…It was really dark and I’d just received another message, but I couldn’t hear it or see it that well. I tried to turn up the volume, but it was already up to the maximum. Out of nowhere, I started to see and hear things. I was talking to a freakin’ lamp! The next thing I know, there’s a fire in the room, and I’m standing right there. The couches and chairs go up in flames, right where I could’ve sworn someone was sitting. Someone who looked like a cop, but probably wasn’t, came into the room and found something under one of the couches. It was a skeleton of what looked like a small deer. I started to cry. I knew that someone was sitting on that couch when I came in. They didn’t go anywhere. I knew they were there. I wasn’t crazy.

The next half of my dream was weird, but in a goofy way. I was walking by the flower shop by my house with a puppy, but it wasn’t my puppy. My puppy is pretty big for being a puppy, but this puppy was the size of a regular one. A big one, but a puppy nonetheless. I was just walking with it, when I saw one of my relatives (the same one from the Christian Bale dream in Pt. 1), my neighbor, and a family friend. All three sipping tea next to the flower shop. They surprisingly didn’t say anything to me, which I thought they would. I continued to walk on with my puppy until I reached my house. When I walked through the front door, there were five people waiting for me. Three women and two men. All five were heavily tattooed, and pierced. Their tattoos and piercings looked very good on them, though. Some people’s tattoos/piercings don’t look very flattering on them, but not in this case. They all looked very beautiful, even the men.

The women were modern-day pin-up girls or at least that’s what they looked like. Perfect, smooth, sleek hair dyed dark purple, dark blue, and red, respectively. Make-up, but not too much, just enough to show the true beauty of their eyes and lips. Black high heel Mary Janes, black skirts, and different textured corsets adorned the three women in front of me. The men were modern-day gentlemen. Black straight-legged pants, a little on the skinny side, black Converse, black button-down shirts, and black fedoras graced the handsome men.

After looking at the five people in front of me for awhile, I began to wonder why they were in my house. Could it be something I was wearing maybe? A black Tripp skirt, with matching corset, black Doc Marten’s, just enough eye make-up (so I don’t look like the walking dead!), and my dark red hair looking perfect and strangely really pretty…I looked kind of like a smaller version of the three women. Minus the tattoos and excessive piercings. Maybe that’s why they were here. I heard them talking about tattoos, and I would be 18 in a week…

Then I woke up. Gasping. From what? Absolutely no idea. The first thing that I could think of was that I was gasping from the fire, but that was the first part of my dream. I was way past that in my little dreamland. And what about my killer headache? Trying to figure out why those beautiful, excessively tattooed and pierced people were in my house? I couldn’t think of any other reason than the latter. The lack of sleep I’ve been getting could be the reason as well. I have no idea. I think, sir or madam, that this proves how my dreamcatcher is defective.

Chocolate and interesting documentaries are sometimes the worst things to consume before bed.

Originality is a rarity/Annoyance of epic proportions

People annoy me. Sometimes, I’m just totally fed up and down-right sick of people. There are reasons I’m totally certain of and others that I’m not so certain of. Sometimes I’m just annoyed by people because I’m having a bad day, or my day becomes bad because of what people do or say. It just seems like people today have no sense. Absolutely nothing original radiates from their person. Everything about them is so…cliched and such a trend, and that just annoys the hell out of me.

It seems like almost everyday I’m discovering more and more ways that people can be so fake. People who go along with trends seriously annoy me. I just hate seeing people in outrageously form fitting skinny jeans, skin-tight hoodies, dyed black hair, and maybe some heavy eyeliner and/or an optional face piercing or two. I mean, yeah, that’s great and all, but it seems like everyone looks like that today. Everywhere I go, it’s like that’s all I see. I honestly don’t care how people dress or what they do with their lives, but with everyone at the mall or school looking the same…Gets really old, really quick.

Another thing that annoys me is these people are categorizing themselves as “emo”. Why the hell would you categorize yourself? Hello, it’s called being original, being yourself. NOT going by a category that everyone else is currently sporting. Or they decide to sport the label of “emo” because of the music currently on their iPod. Just because you listen to music that matches the supposed “darkness and emotional wreckage of your soul” or “how much you hate the world” that automatically makes you “emo”?  That just, as Peter Griffin would say, “really grinds my gears!” 🙂

The fact that people like that constantly complain about how no one “understands them” or how “everyone hates them”, is total crap. “I cut myself, and listen to music about dying” or “Let’s compare the scars on our wrists. Whose is deeper?” Gag me! That’s just ignorance at its finest. Trying to get attention because they feel like no one else will pay attention to them if they’re original. That contradiction is so incredibly pathetic. They think they own the world one minute, and complain about how much their life sucks the next. It’s disgusting. Get the hell over it! Complaining will get you nowhere. If you’re life sucks sooo much, then do something about it.

I’ll be totally honest…I do wear skinny jeans, fitted hoodies, and dye my hair. Think I’m apart of the trend? Guess again. I wear skinny jeans because I like the wear they fit and how they look on me. The fact that I’m petite does have its advantages. 😉 I wear fitted hoodies because I don’t like how bigger hoodies fit on me. Again, I’m kinda picky ’cause I’m tiny. My hair dye color of choice isn’t black, though. Personally, I like the way the dark red looks on me. Black would look really, well, not pretty on me. One of my friends from way back suggested I dye it black…Thankfully, I never went through with it. As for the heavy eyeliner and optional face piercing, I smudge my eyeliner just alittle, not to the extreme to where I look like I’m the walking dead, and I don’t have any piercings on my face. Although I hope to get my lip pierced after I get my braces off.

As for the music on my iPod, I listen to whatever I like. I don’t pay attention to genres or what everyone else is listening to. If I like, I’ll listen to it. It’s that easy to understand.

I dont’ follow any trends or conform to any labels. Plain and simple. I don’t categorize myself as anything because it’s a waste of time, and I don’t see myself fitting into a category at all. People who categorize themselves are too afraid of what others might think or to lose the supposed friends they’ve made. Ignorance at its finest.

Murder the trends and never-ending labels before they end up murdering your sense of strength.