Dear Ice Monster,

You make loud noises.

You breath hot air on me.

And you pee in the sink.

You are not my friend.

Your Blog

Am I high, or reading your blog?


??? So many words, but nothing is ever said! ???


Such a teenager.


This shouldn't matter. But your writing style makes me care so much what's being said.


Why read your blog? Every post is exactly the same. And they're clearly written for someone else. To make that one person feel.


Future owner of a soccer mom van. It's interesting. Very interesting. But unrelatable. Very unrelatable.


Your poetry reflects you so well.

Dogs

So I'm leaving that house I moved into a few months ago in like a week. And I just realized I never blogged about my frustration with the place. So... here it goes!

To start off. The mess. My roommates are slobs. I wouldn't be surprised if they actually tried to make as much mess as physically possible in a day. They clean the house for parties, and then have the party, and leave the mess until the next party. The dog pees on the kitchen floor and it can be just... sitting there for up to three days. Until it's just a yellow dry patch. If the dog poops in the kitchen she'll pick the poop up, but won't clean the area. Luckily the dog only does it's business in the kitchen. Unlucky the dogs owner can't train her because she got the dog high when she was a puppy and the owner herself doesn't know the first thing about training an animal. There's always a ton of stuff chewed up over the carpet. Including the carpet itself. All their nice stuff gets chewed on by the dog. But, they still leave their nice stuff in the room.... There's always a giant mass of hair in the bathtub drain. And EVERY time I get in the shower there's random hair strands plastered all over the walls. I've checked their shampoo's instructions, on the off chance they say, "Lather, rinse, bang head against the wall repeatedly." They don't. I wipe down the shower before I get in every time. The worst part of all of this is they expect us to split the chores 3 even ways. Like it's 1/3 my retarded dog. Like it's 1/3 my drunken moron party. Like 1/3 the things in the house are mine. --NONE of my belongings are outside my room, or my bathroom cabinet-- I can't trust their friends, or even them, not to steal stuff. One of my roommates got arrested for shoplifting a few weeks ago. Why would I not have a lock on my door? Why would I keep ANYTHING nice of my out from behind closed, locked doors?

It's not just the mess... Oh no. They have these freaking stupid people over. People who breath more pot smoke than they breath air. People that come from jail, to our couch. Gang members. Drug dealers. Can you say "White Trash?" And they legitimately, honestly believe there's nothing wrong with these people. Well, how could they see it? They're one of them.

"I could stop whenever I want."
Right...

And why can't either of them have a real relationship with a guy? They're not the dating type of girls. They're the girls guys just fuck. And they're okay with it. I've NEVER heard them use another word other than "fucking." I don't understand how sex can mean nothing. What about trust? A connection? Love? lol yeah right. And who would want to be in a relationship with a girl who likes getting blacked out drunk at a party full of guys? They're just two perma-fried girls with loose morals and disintegrating brains.


"It takes spoon-fulls from your brain! Haha!"
Funny...

"It's okay. You don't need ALL the spoon-fulls in yoru brain."
The spoon-full that controls common knowledge and judgement has clearly been dissolved.

The worst part about all of this is I love these two. I truly cared about them. I've known one for 18 years. And the other for 5. They were both two of my closest best friends in high school. I wanted to be around in case they needed anything. But I can't put myself in that position anymore. I'm sick of being ignored. I'm sick of being the weird one because I don't enjoy being a drug fiend or a floosy. Lay down with dogs and you'll get up with flees. After my first encounter with the cops, after spending countless nights wishing I could sleep over the sounds of drunken chatter and rampant sex noises, after the mess, after the ever-constant stench of piss and beer. I'm out. Never looking back. I honestly wouldn't be at all surprised if I never heard from either of them ever again. And as much as that hurts me. I know it's not me who's made it like this. It's not like I want this choice to be here. It's not like they care. The day after I said I was probably moving they had someone ready to move in. I'd wish them good luck. But it'd be pointless. Luck isn't what can save them. I don't know if anything can. I hate feeling this, but I don't care what happens to them. So, I'm gone.

This has been on of the greatest learning experiences of my life so far. The best way to shape the person you want to be is having a clear image of who you do not want to be.

Today.

This blog is unorganized. It's probably also not very interesting. I had a terrible day I needed to vent. Just a warning.

I didn't get home until late last night. Didn't sleep until about 4am. Which was my fault, yes. But I feel the right to complain anyway. I had to get up at 8am to have time to get my dad a father's day card and get to my parents house in time to actually have time to talk to my dad a little bit before i had to leave for work at 10:30. I get to work and after about 3 hours my boss sends me home. It was a slow day to start off. I clock off and take my phone out of my pocket, a text from my dad telling me to call him. So I do. My grandpa died this morning. While I was father's day shopping. ... I went to safeway to pick up some flowers for my mother. Then I headed home. I get there and my mom immediately starts crying on me. We all sit around... talking... crying... Then my mom gets a phone call. Laura, aka "The Skank." This woman had been the "care taker of my grandpa for about a year now. She had been stealing his money for months and she had at one point, no joke, tried setting up a meth lab on my grandfathers property. This woman has been to jail countless times, has MAYBE 3 teeth left from doing meth for 20 years and was taking advantage of my grandpa. My grandfather has been sick for weeks now... incoherent in fact. My mom thought everything was all in order. She was the benefactor of my grandpa's money and house and.. well, everything. The Skank wrote up a new will. Claiming herself the new benefactor and casting my mother aside completely. The only thing stopping this whole thing from being legal is the whiteness not signing the will. But.. enough of the technicality bull shit. This is all terribly hard for my family to deal with. My mother was crying on me for hours. I've had issues with my mom but apparently there's still a fair amount of sympathy and respect left somewhere in my heart. Today broke my heart. Finally my family's mood lifts and my brother and I decide to order some food from the Silver Gultch. I place the order and 30 minutes later Aaron and I go to pick it up. On our way in i run into Keenan's mom and Sister. I say 'Hi," and keep walking. We get the food and head back to the parking lot. Waiting, outside the door is Keenan's mom, and sister, Autumn. I say hello again and ask how they're doing. the response I get is a very rude, "Keenan wants to talk to you." I say I'll call him and ask again how things are going. Autumn looks at me and then at my brother. She says, again quite rude, "Who's this?" I say, "My brother, Aaron." Aaron shakes her hand and asks who she is. I say "Keenan's sister." And she responds with another, "I bet Keenan really wants to talk to you." Taken aback I just gave up on the conversation and left for my car. It dawns on me that she's mad at me for being out with another guy. ... Who I was not showing ANY affection to. Who I was grabbing a take out meal with... She picked the wrong day.. I get home. I'm pissed. My family immediately decides that this woman is on the Borecki family's perpetual, never-ending shit list. Keenan texts her and tells her I was with my brother... Like I said... and she sends me a text basically refusing to apologise. And telling me I'm wrong, she was NOT rude. As little as I want to start this drama I feel the need to fight for this one. I have been nothing but good to Keenan. I'm the first girl to give him a real shot at a real relationship. I'm the girl who pays for his meals. I'm the girl who lets him stay at my home, free of charge. I'm the girl who put up with all the drama of this winter. When SADs was getting to Keenan. I'm the girl that makes him happy. And here she is, accusing me of being unfaithful. Screw that. If I have to deal with one more of these situations my head might literally explode. If I deal with one more ass hole I'm going to lose it. All of this on top of my 57 hour work week. All of this on top of the stress of trying to find a new home. All of this on top of the death of my lizard on Thursday... All of this.


All. Of. This.

Ridiculous

So most everyone who reads this blog knows the cops showed up at our house on Friday night/Saturday morning. While I understand why they were there and most of their action are hard to argue with especially since they didn't arrest us... I feel the right to complain about how unprofessional they were. If their motive was simply to scare us then they accomplished it without difficulty. However if they were under the impression that they were generating any kind of respect for themselves they were horribly mistaken. There is no reason to make fun of us that way. There's no reason to keep calling me "drunk" when I was CLEARLY not. Telling me I lived in a "dump" and telling me I'm "trash" is completely unnecessary. Also, taking my roommates books was uncalled for. They were trying to make a point by bringing out their Pot-Smokers Handbook and their issues of High Times. They said they were taking them for "evidence" ... but they didn't charge us with anything. So taking the books was, in fact, illegal. They had no right to do that. Finally, telling two young woman that they are on "the fast track to getting raped" is bordering on abuse. Those officers had no right to act the way they did. I understand why they were there, I understand why they took the actions they did, but their attitudes were terrible. All of this along with the stories from some of my other friends from that night have seriously diminished my faith in, and respect for, the Alaska State Troopers.

Sometimes...

I'm sitting in my car, utilizing my time to do absolutely nothing. Looking out my left window I can see the sun, and white puffy clouds someone must have painted there. Out across my quiet passenger seat is a storm, headed this way, casting the trees and ground in a beautiful, melancholy, dim shade.

The wind is threatening to take me away. Part of me wishes it would. Part of me wants to stay right here and feel it pass by me, rush against my skin and pull at me.

First the over-cast, then the wind, the rain, lightning and now thunder. Same as always.

I know you.
Take me away.

The rain is falling so uneven and so perfect. Pounding on my roof as if it has something to say.
It never does.
I hope it knows I'm listening.
I hope it knows I'm here.

Here I am.

Hail. =)

The Sky Is Falling

My world is so small...

I have work.

I have a few close friends.
None of which I hang out with too much...

Lavina, Timmy, Hannah, Marc.

A few nights ago I had a mini panic attack thinking about how small my life has gotten. I can't honestly imagine having as much to deal with as I once did. School, dance, work, social life, family... And now, work and a miniature social life. While it seems like a lot to deal with the amount of life I have now doesn't seem like enough. It's so hard to expand... "Hey wanna hang out?" times fifty, with zero response gets very, very old. But having the feeling that your world is literally shrinking also gets old.

So I'm on a mission. I'm expanding my world.... Lets see how this works out.