Things That Make My Life Worth Living

Things that make my life worth living:

Singing along way too loudly (read: badly) to Lady Gaga.

Arguing whether Kesha or Lady Gaga write the more sexual songs.

Gay couples can get hitched in California again.

My dog.

Whipped Cream.

Swiss Rolls with Whipped Cream on them.

Chocolate bars with Whipped Cream on them.

Granola bars with Whipped Cream on them.

More Whipped Cream.

Secretly cashing checks in order to surprise my mom with an AWESOME birthday gift.

School plays.

Free paper.

My bangs curl naturally and it actually looks good.

The MP3 player I want to buy to replace my lost one is on sale this week.

Scott Pilgrim.

New toilet seats.

Bathrooms that no longer smell like vinegar.

FRC kick off is only 89 days away.

NaNoWriMo is even CLOSER.

New characters that pop up in my brain uninvited but loved nonetheless.

Manga is still as crazy and ridiculous as it's always been.

Apollo Justice is a good game, even if Investigations wasn't.

Eating YanYan for the first time ever.

Coworkers who pull their fair share.

Coworkers who pull their fair share and then some.

The new copy of Jump has a special on the war in One Piece.

My hoodie finally went through the washing machine, so I can wear it again.

Discovering awesome French singers: Yelle.

International music in general.

I've got a jar of dirt (two of 'em, actually).

Buttons.

Card flourishes.

The fact that I don't live in a third-world country.

Origami cranes.

Winning an argument against my dad.

The smell after it rains.

And most of all, my Faith in God.

You know what? It's OK if you have a bad day. It's OK. You know why? Because there are still a million and one reasons life is worth living.

And I'm thankful for every one of them.

Confrontation

I am absolutely terrified of confrontation. Of any confrontation.

Let's say I go to the bathroom at school. If there's another person in the bathroom I have to wait for them to leave before I can exit the stall because I don't want to have to confront the possibility of talking to them. I know it's stupid, I know nothing at all bad would happen, but it still scares me.

Or I'm at a stop sign and there's another car at the same intersection. I get a panic attack and freeze up because even if I know which of us has the right of way, I still don't know who is going to go first. That's why I failed my first driving test.

And when someone, anyone, catches me doing something wrong, I will lie about it.

I can't help it. It's compulsive. Even though I know it's a terrible idea and it's only going to get me into deeper trouble I am so absolutely terrified of that person being mad at me that I can't tell them the truth and admit I fucked up. I try to lie and smooth it over so they won't get upset with me. I know it will only get worse, but I will still do it. Every. Time.

This is why I try to live an honest life. Not because I think it's the right thing to do (although it is) but so that there won't be any reason for me to lie.

I know where this stems from. I am completely aware this is another offshoot of my Daddy Complex. When I was a kid my dad would could shoulder me and down talk me if I did even the slightest thing out of his taste, and so I desperately tried to cover it up whenever I screwed up.

So, yeah. I know I have a problem. I know why I have a problem. I am willing to admit this and ask for help.

Which means I think it's completely uncalled for that my Mom's initial reaction is to say I'm insulting her by saying talking to her could possibly be a sort of confrontation, and that her proceeding to make fun of me for admitting I even have problems talking to people at school in the bathroom is just mean spirited. I don't know what to say. She and my brother were both laughing, but I was crying. Even if it was a joke, even if my fears are utterly ridiculous and are practically begging to be made fun of... They are still my fears, and they are legitimate enough to me that it hurts me when they are made fun of. If I am crying it is not funny.

Blarg

Ug. I am not in a blogging mood today.

There's lots I could rant about, but I don't really feel like talking.

One of the major highlights of my day has been aquiring Lemon Demon and Hallelujah for my new (suckish but at least it works) MP3 player. Jon's also given me permision to crack his iTunes, so Doctor Horrible shall be mine soon, too. I love my music.

I recieved an awesome group hug today at Robotics. It made me squeek, but still made me happy.

I need to figure out how to get some sleep this week without sleeping through first and second period constantly.

Brain. Not. Functioning.

I'm Mad at God Right Now

Fuck this "circle of life" crap. It still sucks when someone you know and love has to die.

It's not fair. It's not cool when an innocent kid who's never intentionally hurt anyone in his life, who is the sweetest person ever, gets the death sentance.

For what?

Why?

Because his body doesn't work quite right?

That's not fair.

The good people should get long lives. They shouldn't have to die young while our prisons are clogging up with people who are still alive and kicking but have no regret for what they've done (the other ones are okay. I don't mind if they're there thinking about themselves and changing and all that crap).

Hell. He deserves to live more then I do.

This isn't cool, God. This isn't cool.

But please, please don't let him be in pain.