February 18th, 2010

Remembering back to a Thursday, six weeks ago, I can think to myself that it started off like any other normal Thursday. I probably over slept, from being out the Wednesday night before by doing some ridiculous photo shoot with some people, instead of going to human sexuality class in Swift 500. I was really excited about taking Human Sexuality, especially as a night class. I thought it would be more like a hangout talking about sex, rather than a class. Well, it was pretty interesting but I feel like I knew most of the things my teacher taught me. I already knew about the cycle of sex, and how you get erect, have sex, done. I knew where my ovaries were and I was pretty sure I could locate my clitoris. When sexuality comes along, so does the word HOMO-sexuality, and BI-sexuality, and BI-cycle, and BI-polar and TRI-cyratops. So whenever something was brought up, Harvey Milk behind me would raise his hand and say, "You know I'm gay, tho I don't have anythign againtht anyone, I rethpect all walks of life,..." and then he would answer the question or give his opinion on the topic. Even when the topic had nothing to do with gay people at all. Like, my teacher could ask what time of day it was and he would say, "I'm gay, 6:33."

No before you throw your rainbow ponchos at me, I am not saying anything negative about LGBTQAA culture at all. Infact, I am very informed. I do, however, think that sometimes people make it known a little too much. It's definitely nothing to be ashamed of but, you do not need to tell us your sexuality everytime you answer a question in class. That would be like me raising my hand and saying, "Yeah I am a saggitarius, I have liver spots on my right arm, can I use the restroom?"

Sooooooooo

Most people out there think that five dollars in gas can help them make it home on a rough day from work, or get them to school in the morning. For my friends and I, five dollars in gas is like filling up our tank. It can get us anywhere we want to go as long as that little dial passes up the off orange gas light on the inside of my 2002 navy blue Mazda.

It's all about perception and seeing what you want to see. I once made it home from Ada, Ohio on nothing but $8.76 in gas, stuff I scrounged up from under the seats in my car, a positive outlook, and a pocket full of miracles. Having spent a bad weekend in Ada, and sleeping in my car and waiting until the sun came up and I sobered up enough to drive, I got on 75 South and started driving. Being in Ada, or anywhere different than Cincinnati, all of the radio stations are different. Ironically enough though, no matter WHAT station I went to, every song that played was religious and I remember the lyrics didn't just sound holy, they literally told me to "thank God for the life he gave me, and praise Jesus for the things he did." It was all very literal, and that might have been ONE of the times in my life that I feel perhaps I was getting some sort of message.

Anyway, as I was saying, I feel like I could go wherever I wanted (within reason), on five dollars in my tank just because I believe I can. Now most of you might think this sounds like if I say I believe in fairies that tinkerbell will just pop out of no where. Well, I bet most of you haven't even done that and just to let you know tink is kind of a slut. Regardless, I think we all need to believe a little bit more in the magic and miracles that life could, and does hold for us. We may not see them at first but one day, something happens to us, as individuals that makes us believe in all of those things. Who really wants to live in a world where magic doesn't exist, or the belief of? It is like when I was thirteen and getting ready to go on my first date and my mom spilled the beans that Santa Claus wasn't real. I know, I know what you are all thinking, thirteen IS a little early to start dating but hey, we only live once right? ;) As I was saying, when I found out Santa Claus wasn't real, I was literally mortified, because not only did Santa lose his credibility, but it meant that the tooth fairy, the easter bunny, and Mack, the Special Christmas Duck, all did not exist. I felt like I had been lied to my whole life.

So there is a point in time where magic leaves our lives, most of us around elementary school age, but for me I was thirteen. Yeah, I had entered the stage of bras with cups and I still believed in Santa and his elves, but it was because I wanted to. I liked all of the mysterious magic and the idea behind it. But I do truly believe it enters back into our lives later, and in whatever form you find yourself believing in it, hold it close to you. Don't let it go. You can not let everything go from your adolescent childhood years, or you become dead inside. Hold on to a small portion of something, and always, always remember to laugh. Smiling makes the world brighter.

I feel like Carrie Bradshaw.

Done.

untitled

invisible beauty. the kind of happiness that can not be seen or heard. it just exists. it just is. the most pure and honest form of sincere bliss. the kind of happiness that makes you smile from ear to ear and just think, "I am so happy I could die." invisible beauty. I feel like we are all lucky if in this world if we get to feel that kind of magic. but I suppose it's not really invisible at all, as I can see it with my eyes shut. It's shiny. It's bright. It's beautiful. It exists and is real. We're like a zipper.

Forgive me Gaga, for I have sinned,

I feel that not a single dwelling soul on this hereby declared "earth" should be made to enter such a foul and hasty environment that our predececors deem as "work" on a glorious, triumphiant day like today. The sun in shining and gaga has been beating through my veins all day. I know I am not forced to work, but in this ugly world if you don't work you don't get damn jack mother fucking shit.

Take my family for example, they are saddened by the fact that their precious volley ball manager brunette daughter won't hang out with them anymore. I say this because I visited my mother at the office and she has a very out of date photo of me on her desk. I asked her why she keeps it their, as it is years old and it doesn't even look like me anymore. And she said she likes that version of me best. Well that version of me is fucking gone. I am not a little kid anymore and I certainly did not grow up to be the "Laura" you wanted me to be, but you know what I believe I am something better. I speak my mind, I am true to myself, and I will be doing what I want with my life. Life is too short to do anything but that. Not being true to yourself and living a lie is like committing a slow and painful suicide. I just can't imagine doing that.

Furthermore, my mother and father are upset that I don't spend time with them anymore, but I need money so I can start paying my own bills and such. Like don't choke on your own words, parentals, you can either pay for me to move into my own place, or I am going to sell my ovaries until I can make rent each month. I will not be living in a household with restrictions and rules, because I believe rules are for the birds.

I am still waiting on my manager to call me any day with that movie deal...

_-JUST DANCE-_

Beautiful, Dirty, Rich

So here I am trying to cram in an entire quarter's worth of freshman english work into the 45 minutes left I have in the day before I go to work. After sleeping until two, after running out to get chipotle, and after facebooking for a good hour. As I am sitting here drinking a coke zero and finishing these cold beans and rice, my brother interupts me with a piece of mail. Oh cool it's Vogue telling me I am 3 months late with my payment of 15.99 to them, and if I don't pay them soon they will terminate my subscription. Good, that is what I wanted from you in the first place. Here is a little secret, I never intended on paying you shit. You should make people provide credit card information when signing up for your subscription online. I hope Vogue doesn't read this.

Irregardless...

I hate school. I really do not like reading articles about how the technology is affecting the modern society and I REALLY do not like then writing 8 pages about it's rhetoric-ness and giving my own input. I don't like summarizing. I do not liking driving to school in the cold winter weather. I do not like parking in the gross parking garage with the scary squirrels.

I seriously would like school if I could take classes about like fashion, and learn how to glue certain rhinestones onto certain leather vests. I am being completely serious. Maybe I am in the complete wrong program. I want to learn about music, fashion, and art. I wanna play around with make up and glitter until I design something really intense. Like, there has to be a place out there for me, where are you?

My hair is wayyyyyy white. I LOVE purple shampoo. Oh shit. It's 3 am. I have to get up at 9 to go take an exam. Cool. SO like, seriously. Where should I go to like... school. ?

MONSTERS

Colour My World

So I am sitting here in a computer lab on campus, I had to wait in line for about five minutes to actually get a chance to sit down at the computer. It is the end of the semester, monsters are waiting at the door with notebooks and pens in hand with aggarvation written across their forehead. They probably have something due ten minutes ago that they need to print out of finish typing the conclusion for, but I sit here, on facebook, and twitter, and updating my blog. Hahahahahah. It really makes me laugh that I am taking up a computer they might need so I can entertain my readers.

So today was the last day of english class. What? I had no idea. I really still do not like school. I think I have finally got it figured out.

There is one place I belong in this crazy world. The stage. It is something that is completely out of my hands and I don't really want to change it. There has always been something inside of me that has made me the person I am. Different. Unique. Quirky. I like to make people laugh and I have been able to all my life. Even more so than comedy as a profession, I want to be taken as a serious actress. That is something I struggled with in high school always recieving comedic roles. All I want to do is to be on stage and infront of a camera, portraying a character that makes people fall in love, cry, hate, laugh, smile, and feel. I want to move audiences all over the world with the passion and determination that lies within my soul.

So, yes, I know what I want to do with my life. I want to make something of it. The quest of how I will get there and what I will encounter on the way remains a mystery, but that's what life is. It's not about what's waiting on the other side, it's the climb. Thank you, Miley.