Marissa, The Scotsman

http://memegen.deskslave.org/viewmeme.pl?un=couplandesque&meme=1068057362

Have a lovely weekend.

Love,

 The Scotsman

 

 

My Life, The Solar System

Things in my life are jumbled. I can't seem to wrap my mind around any of it.

Friends are shifting, like the planets orbit, I suppose.

I was asked on a date. On my bad hair day, nonetheless. Now here's a guy, equally brillliant seeming as he is beautiful, asked me on a date to go eat sushi. This tells me many things. It tells me, A.) He's classy (Sushi! That costs a few sheckles in this neck of the woods.) B.) Looks don't matter so much (I looked like crap.) But this could also mean, C.) He's going to rape me after we eat sushi and doesn't care what I look like. So that's the situation.

I've been enthralled with my poetry this last week. Both current and old. My newer stuff seems to be almost publishable. I was thinking of calling the collection of it, "Buy Me." Not.

New York stumbled upon a heat wave. The high today was a whopping 37 degrees and I wore a tank top. Outside. I shit you not. I bet I tanned a bit.

Wish me sanity, this Valentine's Day and I'll wish that your chlamydia stays in remission longer than usual.

Have a lovely day. And remember, no glove no love!

Play It Again, Marissa

Innnnnnteresting. Veddy veddy interesting.

I was propositioned.

Or, asked on a date, that is.

I still got it.

Oh yeah, Oh yeah.

OOOH! My Crack Is Exposed!

With my sister working the whole weekend, I'm finally allowed to update twice within a two day period. Awesome, no?

Alas it is Sunday. The day of rest. The day that ends the week (and I'm pretty sure most will agree) from hell.

My room is a disaster but I don't care. F that. More than likely my mother will get fed up with it tomorrow and clean it herself, which I don't really like too much, but really, this woman's boat must float. So be it.

I'm going on a hiatus this weekend. Friday to Sunday. Let the unleashing begin! I'm going to show Alfred what a good time is Marissa-style, complete with my own personal Mardi Gras and Girls Gone Wild combo.

Not.

I'll probably just walk around aimlessly, cigarette in mouth and reminisce of old times playing strip hangman in the art room. All while my snot freezes from the subzero temperatures. (I don't really know what subzero means.)

I've been sleeping on the floor. I'm sick of my bed. I'm sick of my room. I'm sick of this town.

Now I realize. When I have the chance to update, I have nothing to say.

When I have nothing to say, I run with it.

Who knows when that'll happen again?

It's like seeing your mom sit on the floor and her blue corduroy pants splitting up the back. Face it. That's certainly never going to happen again.

It's times like these you wish you had a camera.

Have a lovely day and wish me some excitement to report.

 

Stop the ride I wanna get off!

Again I sit here. Feeling the way I do, but not knowing why. I woke up perfectly fine, went to sleep perfectly fine, rinse and repeat.

I went to my very own personalized torture chamber today. It was a jewelry store, complete with sweet man in hat buying an engagement ring and Elton John's "I Want Love" playing in the background. I wish someone just snuck rat poison into my eggs at IHOP this morning. It would've been easier. (By the way, if you go to IHOP and order the International Breakfast, do not, I repeat, do NOT get the Swedish Crepes. It was like eating a wet sock.)

My life isn't a roller coaster. It's a ferris wheel. It just keeps going around and around in these circles and all I can say is "stop the ride I wanna get off!"

I'm feeling so [insert adjective that describes WHY ON EARTH someone would actually listen to Madonna on thier own free will] that I'm actually listening to Madonna. Normally, she makes me grit my teeth but today I've given that up on account that I'm way too depressed to even move. It's on a loop and I'm screwed until the guy who runs the ride gets back from getting a slush puppy and falafel. Damn Carnivals.

And to agree with Elton, I too, want love.

But it's impossible.

Buy a Pepsi, download the song and get the hell off of this ferris wheel.

5 Men Who Changed My Life

In the course of my short little life, there has been 5 men that have changed my life.

The first was Superman. Well, as I knew him. Dean Cain. I was in 4th grade and watched "Lois and Clark" religiously.

The second being Leonardo Dicaprio. At the ripe age of 10, I fell in love and it was with him. Even my mother wanted to marry him. At the time I didn't think it was so creepy, but when I think about it now it sends chills up and down my spine. I still get a little tingle down in the southern region when I think about him.

Next, Howie Dorough from the Backstreet Boys. I shamefully admit, that I was a teenybopper. I loved him for 2 whole years and even saw him in concert once. Of course, I cried and cried. This embarrasses me an absurd amount. But I must say, I still adore him. He's a beautiful hunk of man. And he's my height!

Fourth, is Jon Bon Jovi. This one isn't exactly over yet, either. I don't think it ever will be. I've loved him since 1985, when I was born. I heard his beautiful voice practically everyday for years, since my brother was an aspiring Richie Sambora. I'm an aspiring Dorthea Bon Jovi.

And finally, my new guilty pleasure. Josh Groban! Yes, that is right, I LOVE HIM! I'm not afraid to admit it, either!

Sorry if any of you boys out there are distraught that you did not make my list. Work harder at being a sex symbol and I will gladly revise.

And Seannnny, you were a very close #5. But not quite.

Why I Love Head

No, no, no. Not head head, just Head.

Head is the nickname of my friend Justin.

A little history of Head: The bestest person I ever met on my 3 year journey in high school. (No offense Seany)

Reading through his journal: http://www.deadjournal.com/users/masterkueller made me realize jut how much him and I have in common.

He wants marriage. I want marriage. We are both frantically trying to find it in each little unlit crevice, but are unsuccessful. We have good intentions, but silently we sabotage ourselves again and again with these somewhat toxic relationships.

Like Justin, I worry about not finding someone. Finding "the one" was always a man or woman without a face in our master plan, but now that our plan as at our fingertips with impending adulthood, we are worried that "the one" will never make their grand entrance. And if they do, they won't fit in to our concrete mold of how our lives are going to be.

That's how idealistic I am.

I am not naiive, however, I know by believing the aforementioned to be true, I actually am. I'm not sure I truly believe that but somewhere deep inside I really doubt the fact that anything will happen that way. My master plan hasn't been going accordingly for about 18 years now, why start now?

And as we wake up day after day, searching, we lose hope each night as we close our eyes to sleep.

And it's at these times, I cry.

Have a lovely night.