SpawnPoint

I wrote my name on my bottle of soda and got yelled at for it.  yay

I am very interested in someone and I fail so horribly that I could never really tell them.

I need to stop being lazy and get back to doing art.

I hate how everything moves along for everyone else and all I do is sit here and stare at the wall like a zombie.

I have nothing special to say.

So, things are now moving along.  I went to MEPS on thursday night and everything went well except that I have to go back for a consultation regarding my ankle  (which was expected).  I got a 90 on the ASVAB, and I'm pretty damned happy about that one too.
I still haven't heard back about my consultation appointment, but Chief (didn't catch his name) said that we'd just go up to Bethesda (sp?) if the appointment wasn't scheduled by monday (tomorrow) and force a consultation from them upon the people at MEPS.  Now all I really have to do is get my college transcripts and take the DLAB and hopefully pass to become CT(I).

Yay.

If there were some way
that I could prove to you
how I feel, what I want
I'd surely do it
If there were something
I could say for you
to make it all better
I'd speak those words
What's right and wrong
Are in the past
and untouchable now
but I'd fix it if I could
But these words don't matter
This implication doesn't matter
When it comes down to it
none of it matters
I hurt inside, but you don't see it
you refuse to see
what your stubbornness does
what your words do
and I am to blame solely
There is no way to
right the wrongs of the past
no way to undo
what has been done
And friends you wish to remain
with all the thoughts still there
you loved, but you love not
you cared, but you care not
Not now - not anymore
Anything beyond your motions
are alien to you
anything I need is wrong
You ask so much of me
expect the impossible
accept only what hurts me
but I'm wrong
I asked for time
I asked to wait
but all you've asked for me
to sacrifice for you
could never amount to what I need
time
you do not acknowledge
your own actions
the pain you cause
you only see what I do
But you're happy now
now that you've crushed the feelings
taken what you wanted
and left me alone

Is it really so inconceivable that I am not you?  That I don't do things your way? 

So take what you got
and throw it away...
it's meaningless now.

If there were only some way to get things across.

(ignore any errors)

So my step-father went in for his second attempt at a pancreas just about two weeks ago.  His first attempt was pretty bad, he outright rejected it and had to be in the hospital for a few months because of it.  His second attempt seemed all and good for a few days, and we were all so excited to know that he wouldn't be a diabetic anymore.  But he has a very rare clotting disorder where he was clotting off the transplant.  They put him on blood thinners, but because of this disorder even the smallest amount of the drug was causing him to bleed out.  The pancreas became necrotic and had to be removed.  He is no longer a candidate for a pancreas transplant.  There is a plus side to this though, there were considering transplanting some islets from a properly functioning pancreas into his portal vein, but that would be life threatening to him because of the clotting disorder and could cause him to lose his liver.  However, the doctor at John's Hopkins who performed the surgery is taking my step-dad's case to his mentor (who I heard is the leading guy in diabetes related transplants) and discussing how to transplant the islets elsewhere.  This would be a sort of experimental surgery in a way, but it could help.  I'm being hopeful.

Yesterday, March 18, at 4:15 in the morning, my cousin Janisa died in a car accident in Dallastown.  She was driving a friend home (or so it's been said) and she lost control of the vehicle and crashed into a telephone pole and a parked car.  She died on impact.  Investigators said that there were no skid marks on scene and thus she made no attempt at slowing.  She was probably asleep at the wheel.  I'd like to think that Janisa had given up on her drinking and drug use, and I hope that she just fell asleep at such a late hour.  Luckily, either way, her being unconcious meant that she saw nothing coming and there was no way that she felt anything.  
My Aunt (her mother) wants to see her again, for closure, to say good-bye to her.  It's going to take a while though.  
One of the sadest things about the whole situation is how Janisa has three children.  (she's 26)  Her oldest daughter is with her father, and in a good environment (a possitive) but her two younger children are not so lucky.  My family would take them in, but my step father cannot have children around him (under 5 years of age) for quite some time because of his condition at the moment.  So these kids will probably go to their father who has been in and out of jail for the longest time.  I don't feel good about that, especially with Janisa's youngest child being so sick with cystic fibrosis.

The More I think about it the more I realize how contradictory our society is.  It seems that people out there can't wait to fill heads with the notion of how the civilized world is deteriorating because of insignificant things.  One of the cases is the correlation between violent video game play and agression.  If I have to hear another example of how the media is erasing morals and bringing the world's youth with it, I'm going to puke.

I know I've continuously heard of all those anti-violent video game legislations and persuasions.  Everyone seems to be able to possitively correlate video game play and a rise in aggression levels.  But couldn't you do the same thing and substitute water?  How are we to say that aggression levels in teenagers have drastically risen in the past so many years without being able to go back in time and reconstruct the same experiments?  Who says it hasn't been like this forever?

Although I can completely understand the negative hype about the increased violence in games and the increased realism, that doesn't mean that everyone is going to go and start shooting one another.  If that were so than just about everyone reading this would by now be guilty of murder.  How then do people come up with there hypothesis?

Many people out there assume that just because someone is playing a violent game (reguardless of difficulty in game play or prior negative experiences during the day) and after game play portrays "raised" aggression that the game is at fault.  God knows that it couldn't have possibly been all of those pesky spectators watching you play the game, how uncomfortable all the equipment was that was set up to observe, how bad your day had been, or maybe that you really just can't stand having to answer "And how would you rate your aggression now?" one more time.  

I wonder to myself if there have been people who have studied the aggression levels of people who have never been introduced to a violent game, or even those who solely play real-life violent games (ie: football, rugby, wrestling).  Do you think that many people worry about letting their children join the sports team because it may increase their aggression levels and possibly lead to their child causing intentional harm to another person?  Hell no!  Why then do video games receive all of this attention?  Because there is, like always, the need for a scapegoat--an answer to why there is so much violence in the world.  An answer to why children bring guns into schools.  Why people can so savagely harm one another without remorse.  And that cause must be this growing trend of violent games.  Right?

No one bothers to note that crime has gone down, that less and less people are commiting murder.

[If you were going to say that violent video games were the cause for raised aggression and violent crime among adolescents because nearly every person to commit a violent crime has played a violent video game, then you might as well say that air itself is the cause of any type of crime.  We all know that every criminal (violent or not) has breathed air, and thus air must be the cause.]

/end rant

1.  The idea of being a vagrant sounds appealing to me.  Or just living alone in the wilderness, self-sustaining; only venturing into civilization should I need medical care or more art supplies.

2.  I'd love to be a fish.  

3.  I am not attracted to men.  Not to say that I'm a lesbian, I am currently dating a guy.  It's just I do not find them physically attractive whatsoever.  I guess I'm a big personality person.  If I could have it my way, I'd be back with Amanda forever.  But she's gone away forever.

4.  My half-sister, Rebecca, commited suicide just about a year ago.  It's the oddest thing in the world.  She was 34 when she died, and I hadn't talked to her in years.  I wish I could have, but I couldn't find her.  I grew up with her till I was about 6 years old, but I don't really remember her at all.  The last time I ever saw her was at her wedding reception.  I hope her husband was good to her at least.  I hope she didnt' think I didn't want to talk to her.

5.  I am against psychiatric medication unless the person taking them needs them to survive.  You can fix most things on your own.  

6.  I should have gone to West Point when I could have.  I had my in, but I decided not to go when my father thought it the perfect opportunity to use my success for his gain.  

7.  I'm allergic to my own sweat.  It's the most annoying thing in the world.

8.  I'm also allergic to penecillin (sp?) and the pertussis vaccine, and I'm lactose intollerant (not serverely though).

9.  I'm mildly dyslexic, but I've learned to deal with that quite well.  Numbers still pose a problem for me, but I'm getting over that.

10.  I don't know why I put any of this up here...I'll probably just delete it all in a day or so.  


If only you could see
What you meant to me
How the world came 
tumbling down
How it all just
fell apart
With the words you said

If only I could stop time
turn back the clock
and fix it all
You'd see what it meant
to truly feel, to love
to be

Read this and understand!

            Limbaugh tries to create a tale, an explanation that draws from conservative ideals and nonsensical scenarios to prove why condoms should not be distributed in schools.

            My initial problem with his argument was how he kept inferring that because condom distribution is a controversial issue; the schools must be literally handing the condoms out to every child.  It seems like Limbaugh believes that the school staff prances around the halls of the schools shouting out “Free Condoms for Everyone!” and that they give these kids the impression that condoms are one hundred percent effective under any circumstance.  Well, that is not how it works in schools where condoms are distributed.  The condoms are simply made available and the children are told that condoms are NOT one hundred percent effective.

            Limbaugh also reasons that because people believe that kids are just going to do it (have sex) anyway, that they should not only give condoms to children, but provide safe places where they can perform the act, and provide safe and clean people with whom to have sex with.  Not only does it irk me that Limbaugh keeps going down this slippery slope, but it irks me to no end that he does not even realize he’s falling as fast as he is.  It is not as though having condoms available for children is going to make them all into promiscuous teenage parents with every venereal disease in the book.  No, having condoms available is only going to help protect those who are going to have sex from the aforementioned.

I just cannot understand how someone, with no facts whatsoever, can truly believe that anyone is going to back them in their argument.  If Limbaugh wants to sound like a reasonably sane human being, then he should first get facts to back up his opinion.  What Limbaugh does not understand is that many people are just laughing at the ravings of a lunatic who cannot even take the time to back up his argument.

Self injury is a plague that is currently spreading.

It has been said that at least 1-10 teens have tried self-injury.

Most people begin self-injurious behavior as a way of coping.  Honestly, it does work in the beginning, much like how any drug just gets you high in the beginning.  After a while  though, the injuries become worse and worse in an effort to hide whatever pain led to the initial self-injuious behavior.  

When one injures themselves endorphines are released into the bloodstream to better help the body deal with the physical pain.  These endorphines can create a high that has been compared to an opium high, and this reaction is addicting.

I personally self-injured for 8 years and know what toll it takes.  It causes social tension as some people will not associate with someone who cuts.  It causes an addiction.  It also changes daily life.

Most people hide that they cut, unless they are asking for help.  (or if they have gotten so far into it that they no longer care)  I know that when I started injuring myself I would hide everything for fear of being ostracized.  When I got into 11th grade, I no longer cared who saw my injuries.  I had accepted my behavior as a part of me, and no longer saw it as something negative with any negative consequences.  However, self injury can be negative in more ways than just leaving scars:  it can lead to infection, cause social problems, lead to accidental death.

Cutting became such a part of my life by the time I was 15 that I had integrated it into my routine.  I began to realize again that cutting was a problem when I saw that my day revolved around my cutting.  If I missed a chance to cut due to unforseen circumstances, I would panic and find some way to cut.  I felt like a junkie.

To make this shorter, I stopped cutting almost 2 years ago.  I was lucky enough to scare myself out of my bad habits.  

Long story short:  Relying on anything to "erase the pain" only makes new pain.

Merry Christmas to those few hapless losers who grace my blog!  

Hope you have a wonderous time!

~L, Veotz, Rachael  Whatever ya wanna call me  :P

I've been holding onto the rope for a while,
trying to keep from sinking.
But, the more I think about it
the more that I know
that I was always just like this.

Though I may let go for a moment,
of that line drawn tight between
where I want to be and where I'm wanted.
I can't seem to let go
let loose
and submerge in what I am.

I know what they want of me;
my family and friends.
They want me to be happy,
but they still want me on their side
the "right" side.

I can play the game,
stay close to the line.
But eventually,
I'll just leave those who will their views on me behind.

I will let go.
Not to abandon hope,
but to rectify it.
For I am who I am.


-----
If you know what this means, more power to you!

I finished all of my classes for this semester and I've signed up for some new ones for the spring as a precaution should my leg not be up to par by then.  (And while typing this I burned my hand with a cigarette, oweees!)

Psychology - Childhood something or other stuff
Psychology - Life Cycle Development
Psychology - Adjustment
History - The American Civil War 

I have been feeling really ill lately, and it's beginning to bother me.  I can't seem to drink enough water, and I need salt.  I am tempted to look up the symptoms, but I'm scared to.  I've also recently developed alot of pain in my abdomen (in the last few days).  I know it's not pregnancy, so it's freaking me out.

I just felt like rambling while waiting for the pain to subside.

I wasn't able to make it to either of my classes in Harrisburg because of the snow last night.  See, I'm a lazy moocher who for serious reasons has not been able to get a drivers license yet, and my Mom would have had to drive up there.  If it were me driving, I would have just gone, but I'd feel bad making her drive and hour+ just to sit around while I did the whole class thing.

I'm beginning to freak out about finals next week, well...just my Business Law final as I just don't give a crap about Business or its laws.  I might end up having to call off work for a day or two this week just to study for finals.

I haven't been able to get in much painting or writing lately, and I'm pretty upset about that.  I wish that I could have just a bit more time to get my life together and just chill for a while.  I'm getting pretty stressed about my ankle not healing up as fast as I thought it would have, and I'm tired of just sitting around and not being able to do everything I want to.  It's not to say that I can't walk, because I can, it's just that I can't run, I can't do alot of exercise, I can't get to the other side of town anymore without being driven there.  I am getting better, so much better, at going down the stairs.

Today, to make life a bit more stressful, I thought I was running late to whatever class this is that I'm taking  (I still haven't figured out what class this is) when it turns out that classes were running on a delayed schedule.  I checked the radio, watched for broadcasted announcements, and nothing about class...except for on the college page (somewhere).  I freaked out thinking that my class had moved to another room, but I wasn't sure of what room.

Contemplating everything that had so far occurred in his life; everything that had brought him to the point he was; he looked again at the gun in his hand.


He closed his eyes, held out the gun, and made the most difficult decision he'd ever had to make in his life.


It was a cold October night, the stars and moon only piercing through the clouds long enough to show the peaceful eyes of a young man holding tight to his gun as he lay quiet against the blood-stained wall.


-------------------------

Vincent was an all around average twenty-something man.  One would say he was the epitome of average if it weren't for how monotonous and completely dull his life was.  It had been about five years since Vincent got his average-paying, average workload office job in his average no-name town.  He couldn't really say he hated his job, but he didn't exactly look forward to waking up every morning just to head off to another repeat of yesterday. 

Still dreary from another night of restless, dreamless sleep; Vincent hobbled over to his closet and pulled out a black suit with white pin-stripes.  He laid the suit on his bed and reached for a nice button down shirt only to find that none were hanging in their place as they should have been.  With no clean shirts to wear he grabbed the cleanest smelling one from the pile on the floor of his bedroom, a deep green button down shirt with a small hole in the right sleeve.

Vincent spent another day at work.  He did the average amount of work.  Ate an average lunch. Did another round of average work, then went home.  He immediately went to bed.  Just the same as yesterday, it's always the same.

Unlike every other day, Vincent woke up late that night.

Still dreary from another night of restless, dreamless sleep; Vincent hobbled over to his closet and pulled out a plain black suit.  He laid the suit on his bed and reached for a nice button down shirt only to find that none were hanging in their place as they should have been.  With no clean shirts to wear he grabbed a random shirt from the pile on the floor of his bedroom, a white button down shirt that seemed like it might actually be clean.  He put on his new black tie and sat down in front of his television, though never turning it on.  He just stared blankly at the screen.

It was when Vincent reached into his breast pocket that he found the gun.  He'd never bought a gun, let alone desired to be near one, but this one comforted him.  He felt alive, truly alive.

Vincent was an average man with an average life, a monotonously average life.  He was no more depressed than anyone else, no more clinically insane than the average man.  However, Vincent now sat lifeless against his wall, blood smeared down the wall behind him.  The gun--the means of his escape--still clenched tightly in his hand.

I've been going over the idea in my head for a while, and I've got the basics going for this book I want to write.  
It's about this guy Vincent, who for an unknown reason decides to commit suicide one night.  He wakes and goes through a twisted sort of afterlife and travels with his guide (some little girl) as he tries to earn his place in death.

 - yes, I'm weird

I also have this other idea going to:
It starts out with this impoverished elderly woman who dies in the sandy streets of a barren wasteland - world.  As she dies, the first rain in years falls and a child is born on the outskirts of town, a young girl (I haven't picked a name yet).  I wanted it to kinda be about how the old woman was god, and yet so is the newborn child...kinda repeating like the seasons, yet over a much longer duration.

...at least I'm manipulative!

So, I've been working on getting research for this cursed paper for oh, 2 months now, maybe even three.
Subject - The negative correlation between violent video game play and adolescent aggression.
Title - n/a (yet)  maybe something like,   Johnny's Got a Gun!
Pages - 3-5...prolly gonna end up being alot more.

I have become obsessed with this topic as it does relate to me.

I have done extensive interviews with people in CSS, and through some chat thingy thing.

Unfortunately, it's due on Monday, and I only have 2 1/2 pages done thus far, and I haven't even properly reviewed it yet!

Eh, at least it's gonna be fun debunking all of those "heads up their bums" psychologists out there who think they know what they're talking about because they're getting paid to say it!

I really regret having to start eating meat again...it's just too much. well happy turkey day. I didn't get to help out with the cooking cuz my aunt is anal about that...but oh well! hope everyone else is having a good day

So, I decided to help my boyfriend take out some papers cuz he got this paper route type of thing for a little extra cash while he's wating to start his new job.  (yeah, sounds lame)
It's 37 degrees farenheit outside, I'm cold inside.   It's almost 6 30am, and I haven't slept but 3 hours in the past 3 days.    Fun.

Now I get to walk about three miles in the "chance of wet snow" weather with "chance of snow".  Precipitation-most definitely gonna get wet.  and cold.

Bet you didn't know that newspapers were heavy, REAL heavy.

Well...off on another adventure, this time it's to slay the princess and save the tyrant.

I only have about another hour till I start work for today.  Although I do, in general, like my job--I don't want to go today.
I have noticed that each time I dread going into work, I end up having an awesome time there.  The people who work with me are all pretty cool, 'cept for one girl who I cannot stand.  She just needs constant drama, and so she'll do anything within her power to destroy the nice environment that the rest of us enjoy before she clocks in for work.

I keep saying that I'm going to quit smoking:  eventually I'll do just that.

I guess I'm just tired today.

So, I figured I'd put a little introduction here...for those of you who know me (the 2 of you out there) who feel up to reading the same old crap again.

I'm 20 years old, in my 3rd year of college, majoring in Psychology.  I was originally a studio art major, but I want to live in a house; not a cardboard box.
I was supposed to be in the Navy by now, but dumb me went and broke my leg like a pencil back in April, so now I have to wait.  (Broke my leg, and my ankle in two places, ruptured the ligaments...needed surgery.)  I have an ongoing joke about the whole thing with my family and friends about that:  I couldn't walk at all for months, because it would inhibit the recovery process...My doctor put in three screws to limit the hardware because of my joining the military.  So, in essence, my doctor screwed me three times and I couldn't walk for months...had to go to physical therapy for it and everything.
Uhm...I'm sitting in the library of the college right now, pretending that I don't notice that I have to walk to class in about 2 minutes (at least class is spirited and fun!).  If you want to know what I look like, you'll figure it out for yourself.
I grew up in Upstate NY, in Wurtsboro...moved down to southern PA 3 years ago on Halloween. 
Lucky me, I got to graduate with 300 people I didn't know.
I work at the snack bar of a bowling alley, and in the kitchen...so I get to cook for drunkards in the bar too!  (w00t)
I used to compete in archery, I won the nationals back in '97 (?)  I got second in the states the year after that.  won a couple of local competitions also.  I'm looking on going back into that. 
I love to paint and draw...currently I have this obsession with guys in suits, don't know why...must be the angles.
I am working on a drawing of a pin-up girl (got the idea from Suicide Girls)
Well...I should get to class now, might as well get there early. 

Peace