Sunday, June 28, 2015

My Flaws

     So this has never been a post I anticipated writing, but I have my reasons. One thing I find very important in a relationship that has any real value, is knowing each others flaws. Anybody can show off their good sides, but in my opinion you don't really know someone until you know the whole package. So without further adieu, here are my flaws and/or not the greatest things about me.

1. I am not a trusting person. It's hard for me to believe I can trust someone. I don't believe that people will always be there for me or are as sincere as they say. I believe that there is some good in everyone, but no one is going to care more about you as much as your parents, God, and yourself.
2. I over-think almost everything. I try to come across as a laid back, chill girl, but I almost always let myself get worried over just about anything.
3. I don't stay in one place for very long without beginning to hate it or just need a change of scenery.
4. Despite #3, I get incredibly nostalgic incredibly easily and when I move forward in my life, I almost always get depressed for a short time and worry about whether or not I'm making a huge mistake. I am always unsure of my decisions, though I pretend like I'm not.
5. I am absolutely terrified of falling in love. When people say that they love me, I do my absolute best to take it lightly. They may be sincere, but I never want to believe it. Now I mean this romantically of course. I believe my family loves me and I love them back. That's what I'm used to. I fell in love once, and it landed me in three months of meeting with an elder's wife every Tuesday for three months, then another full year of pain afterwards. Not being consumed in that ridiculous pain is something very new to me. If you love me, don't say it (don't show me that you mean it), until we are more sure of ourselves.
6. I am two-faced. I wish I wasn't, but I can never be truly real with just anyone.
7. I have no idea what I am doing with my life. Yeah, I'm going to college and I know what career I intend to have, but when it comes to just about everything else, I am clueless.
8. I'm losing my creativity. I used to be able to write songs and draw pictures at the drop of a hat, but lately it's like everything is losing it's color. I'm even more clueless.
9. I need to be needed. My self-worth comes directly from people noticing my work and being proud of me. Most of my motivation comes from people saying I can't do something, and my value comes from proving them wrong. I hate to disappoint.


Anyway, those are 9 things about me that I wouldn't really brag about. Hope you liked it!  

Monday, June 15, 2015

What I Look For In A Guy (Yup, I'm Going There)

     Okay, so up until the past year, I never really thought I had a type. I always thought, ' well, I like who I like', and basically just said that I just like guys that are cool and fun to be around. I still do, but I've discovered that there's much more I look for in a guy than I originally thought. Here are those things:
1. A Personality. Growing up, my dad always said to me, "first work on your insides, then your outsides". I like it when a guy actually has a personality. That means he doesn't conform to everything I like. He has his own opinions, but he's still fun to be around.
2. A Backbone. He has to have his own ground rules. For example, no sex before marriage is number one on my list (I look for that in a guy as well by the way). He should stick to his morals, and that's just that. Besides, if a girl can make a guy bend over backwards and not fight for what he believes in, then would he ever fight for me?
3. A Phone-Up Phone-Down Type. Okay, I know this sounds weird. I call this the phone up phone down concept. Basically, if you're dating someone and they always have their phone screen facing downward, it usually means that they're hiding something. (Okay, that's not entirely true, they may just not like the glare from their screen, but be sure you know the difference.) I want a guy that's honest, and isn't hesitant to tell me when something questionable happens. I'd do the same for him. In other words, keep your phone up :) don't hide anything, it'll just make things worse.
4.  Fight with me. This might sound weird, but in a relationship, fighting is always important. It shows that you have morals that you stick to. If I break those rules, tell me. If you fight with me, it shows that you actually care about us as a couple. It shows me that you want things to be made right. Fighting is a part of a relationship, and I want to know that you care. Raise your voice at me.
5. Don't take everything so seriously. I'm a prankster, and truth be told, I almost never act my age. Yeah, I know how to be mature, but honestly, being uptight makes life so bland. Yeah, have a job, know how to take care of yourself, but never forget to have fun.
6. Spontaneity. Prank me. Scare me. Make me laugh. Nerf gun wars and balloon fights when I least expect it. I'm gonna do it to you. When we're on the road, turn the car around and go to a random place. I know that sounds weird, but it's something I really like.
7. Just one suit. I typically like guys that are relaxed dressers. Simple jeans or shorts and a t-shirt or whatever. I'm not picky. But here's what I do like: a suit. Just one. It has to be fitted right, though. Not too baggy, not too tight. It shows that you have a classy side, and every girls finds that attractive, whether she admits it or not.
8. Be a man. I know feminism seems to be all the rage, with the man- hating I- can-do-whatever-I-want-I-don't-need-a-man attitude, but I'm honestly not at all like that. Yeah, I have a sense of independence, but I know I will eventually need someone. I want someone tough in the sense that he knows how to take charge, without being a total jerk. Someone that I know can take care of me and make me feel safe. Not trying to sound weak, but that's something every girl wants in one way or another.
9. Hug me. Yeah, it sounds stupid and girly, but it's nice to be hugged. It simply shows a girl how much you're there for her.
10. Say my name. Okay, this has a bit of psychology to it. If you like a girl and you're talking or texting with her, say her name. It shows that you're focused on the conversation, and that will make her feel very special. Trust me, I know it sounds weird, but I can attest to it working.
11. Loving. I'm not the type of girl who's into things like romantic dinners and slow dances honestly. Ideally, I'd like a first date to be something fun. Anyway, it's the little things that show a girl how much you love them. Yes, a grand gesture on occasion is always good, but they're nearly meaningless when you don't act like you love them day to day. Notes, winks, a simple hand on the shoulder will do the trick. And if you're a hopeless romantic: go nuts!
12. Mindful. I know it's always hard and sometimes annoying to text people, so when you're busy or just plain tired, let her know. Don't ignore her, because girls always have and always will over think things. She'll probably go through an entire argument in her head before you have had time to text her back. It'll probably prevent many fights or silent treatments. Trust me.

Anyway, I hope at least some of this was helpful. I actually enjoyed writing it very much! I plan to post sometime soon something I like to call *drumroll* Understanding Women Part 1 of 1,000. Peace out! ;)

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Summer Plans

     So it's my last summer of childlike freedom. Go big or go home right? Well, that's exactly what I'm gonna do. Normally I am the stay at home and chill, or go for a pleasant bike ride type, but this summer everything is changing. Yeah, I've got at least five graduation parties to go to that I can think of off the top of my head, and plans to go longboarding with friends and stuff like that, but I'm also going on a lot of trips. Here's a rough draft of my summer schedule.
1. Stay a week at a friend's house to house sit with another friend.
2. Go for a weekend vacation in my friend's RV on a lake.
3. Go to school orientation. (while I'm there)
    A. Go to Chinatown
    B. Go to a Cubs Game.
    C. Go to a couple of concerts.
4. Go on vacation with a few families to Wisconsin Dells
5. Go on a mission's trip to Tennessee.
6. (Possibly but I probably won't feel up to it) A mission's trip to New York.

     So yeah, that's honestly just the tip of the iceberg. During my off- hours I'll be continuing the remodeling of my church, and giving my input on other projects. I'll be a nanny again. I'll still be painting, and all the other weirdo jobs I have.
     Basically, I'm gonna be frigging busy.
     Anyway, my posts will be a tad slower to postage than per usual, given said circumstances. I'll also post chapters of The Unlikely whenever I can! Hope you like them! Give me input!



Wednesday, June 10, 2015

The Unlikely 0.1



It had to be past noon, because the light coming from a nearby window was orange-ish. I looked around for many moments, trying to digest what had recently occurred. I remember being outside. I remember getting punched and basically knocked across the galaxy, based off the severe pain in my side. I am going through withdrawal. I am sober, but I am going through withdrawal.
    I sat up and rubbed my head. Something wasn't right. What was it? Oh.
    My hair was cut?
    Okay, so let me get this straight. I remember being beat up by some classy jerk-head, thrown ten feet, I passed out, I woke up here and my hair was cut? This made no sense whatsoever.
    After letting my brain wake up a bit, I was able to push my somewhat heavier body out of the love seat. As I got up, something interesting occurred to me: I was in a... palace? No, not a palace, this room is too small. Something like a palace, where the rooms are almost always the same color: white walls, dark colored drapes, a simple coffee table, and a light colored couch with light colored fabric and usually some kind of floral pattern.
    Calm your brain, Joseph. It'll only make the withdrawal worse.
    Just then, I heard the door on the far east corner of the room open.
    "Well, good morning."
    It was him.   
    Okay, hit me if I'm wrong, but what kind of flipping terms are me and this guy on?! We get into a fight, he takes me home, cuts my hair, then just says ,"good morning"?! What is this madness?
    "Uh, good morning."
    "I assume you have a headache, so I made you some mint tea to help you with the withdrawal. There's a change of clothes for you in the bathroom. What would you like for breakfast?"
    Ooookay, what in the name of all that actually makes sense is going on? The same man that beat me up was standing right in front of me, smiling, offering me mint tea, new clothes and breakfast. I know I was a bit hungover, but my head was spinning  more than it should have.
    "I'm sorry, what?" I asked.
    "I said that I have some mint tea for you're head ache, there's clothes set out for you in the bathroom -first door on the right in the hall- and I asked what you would like for breakfast. Are you well?"
    "Uh, okay. Umm, thank you?I-I'm sorry, I'm just having some trouble processing all this. Yesterday you went all Hulk on me and now you're offering me breakfast?"
    "Well, yes. I wouldn't be a very good host if I didn't do such things. Yes, last night was...well awkward- if you will- but I say we can get past that. You caught me on a rough night, so naturally I was a bit rude, and for that I apologize."   
    I gave myself a minute to calm down a bit and process all of this. I may have been a drug addict with a bit of an anger problem, but I was still somewhat sensible. He apologized, so I guess I could forgive him, right? Live and let live? I honestly don't even know if that rule even applies here, but whatever.
    "Okay, thank you. Um, I guess I'll go get dressed. Tea would be great, but I can get my own breakfast when I leave, but thank you for the offer." I said, trying to make even a little sense, which was actually pretty hard.
    "Leave? Oh, no no. You're not leaving. Where would you go? Back to my spot? I'm sorry, but I can't just let that happen."
    "Where would I go?"
    "Here."
    "Here?" I asked, a little shocked. Was this guy really telling me to stay here?
    "Here. I have a spare room, well actually three. You're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like."
    "Are you seriously saying I can stay here?"
    "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
    "Does anyone else live here? Maybe a wife or another roommate?"
    "Nope. Just me."
    "Well, that escalated quickly."
    "How so?"
    "Are you really asking that question?"
    He chuckled. He honestly thought that this was a normal thing to do. I couldn't help laughing a bit myself.
    " Well, I suppose it might be a bit odd at first, but I think we could work it out. I have gotten quite lonely living on my own in such a large, yes somewhat plain home. After all, I do kind of owe you."
    "Well then, yes."
    "Yes?"
    "I'll stay.  For how long, I don't know, but I'll stay."
    Then it occurred to me- I didn't even know this guy's name!
    "So I suppose if you are to live in my home, I guess I should know your name." He said, with a flat tone.
    "I'm Joseph, pleasure to meet you..."I introduced myself, reaching out my hand.
    "James. My name is James. Excellent, we are now officially acquaintances, and roommates. By an unconventional accord, but still an accord. That is fine however. Go get dressed and I shall make you pomegranate pancakes. Judging by the lack of color in your face, you haven't eaten properly in weeeelllll... I'd day at least three....years." James said.
    "How do you do that?" I asked.
    "Simple laws of deduction.  It's rather elementary my dear Watson."
    "Who's Watson?"
    "A friend of mine."
    "So you're telling me you actually have friends?"
    "I don't."
    "So who's Watson?"
    "An old friend of Sherlock's."
    "Sherlock? As in, Sherlock Holmes?"
    "Yes."
    "So what you're saying  is you're friends with Sherlock?" I asked, obviously a little confused.
    "No. Why would I be friends with a man who has never actually existed? What nonsense! Where would you get such an idea?" He said, genuinely appalled.
    Okay, I'm beginning to think this guy is mad. Not the emotion mad, but the state of being mad.
    James started pacing back and forth as if nervous.
    "Ever heard of imaginary friends?" I said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. I honestly thought that he might have gone crazy on me, so I had to try to cheer him up a bit.
    Suddenly, James looked at me. That same look in his eyes I had seen the previous night right before he punched me was in his eyes right now. It was weird that a compassionate, caring, and somewhat calm expression basically meant certain death for me. Why was he like this?
    He began to slowly walk towards me.
    "Are you judging those that have supposititious companions? What exactly do you think of those people? I'll tell you something, those people are the foundation of everything you see. People create an ideal image of what they want a companion to be because of the lack of rudimentary social and basic comprehensive skills, and it is absolutely appalling! Can you blame them!? Of course not, they are entirely blameless. And yet they are always oppressed. They are pushed around because they refuse to conform to the averages' useless pattern of communications. They are the ones that are truly aware of how reality is just a useless composition of women covered i
n make up, men working at the gym while wearing condescendingly tight shirts, teenagers going out in the early hours to do God knows what, and the other  scum doing whatever they want whenever they want because their stupid parents raised them that way! Sherlock Holmes was my 'imaginary friend'. My parents tried to give me what every other little child wanted to have, but I chose not to become like all the other scums of the earth. I chose to be this way! Just because I am different does not mean I am crazy! I am mad! Madly mad! Sanity is profane, and reality is sane. This earth is filled with people like you who never give the odd-ball a chance! You are not welcome here anymore! Get out!"
    Well, he didn't have to tell me twice. He was right, though. He was mad. 

                                ><><><><><><><><><><

    Next thing I knew, I was on the road again. Apparently Jame's home wasn't  more than four blocks from where his 'thinking spot' was. It was getting dark fast. The warm August air was shifting into the early cold stages of the night. I could smell the rain that was bound to arrive within the next thirty minutes. So many people were walking, talking, eating, playing as if everything in the universe was perfect.
    Nothing about this universe is perfect. Only fools believe that.
    I kept walking. My head was hurting, my side was aching, my knee was hurting because of the sprain, and any sign of a silver lining was nowhere near me. You see, there's something about being on my own that gave me a new kind of sadness. I missed being at home with my family. No, I do not mean that I missed my family, just the privilege of even having one. I didn't have one anymore. I missed the privilege of having a home. It wasn't the shelter that I missed, it was the smell.
    The smell.  
    Every home has a smell. Every person has a smell. Most people can't smell their own smell or the smell of their home, but I could. It wasn't the smell of an actual thing, like food or perfumes. It was a warm smell. The kind of warm smell you smelled when you were outside with your friends late at night. The smell where you tried to fight falling aslo because you didn't want to miss a single moment of whatever it was you were enjoying because you were just so happy. The smell where you feel like you've just completed a large task and now you can do what you will. That was the smell I missed. That was the reason I was sad. I had lost the very sense of having a home, a family, a hope. I was officially an orphan. But something was odd about having this feeling.
    I wanted to embrace it. No one owned me anymore. I was the only one who owned me.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

The Unlikely 0.0



As we were about to finally sit down after a long day of nothing but menial paperwork and answering the phone... the phone, of course, had to ring.
"You gonna answer that?" I asked.
"Already did, go open the door."
"What? Seriously, answer the phone." I persisted.
"Look at the clock, what time does it say it is?"
"Five thirty, what's that got to do with it?"
"Five thirty. The time when Rebecca comes home from work. Given we live right next door to her, why would she be calling? She could easily come over, but she's choosing to call. This is quite simple. Go press the buzzer."
"What makes you so sure it's Rebecca? She didn't even use the doorbell." I asked.
"I replaced it with a knocker."
"What, why?"
"Knockers are better."
"Says who?"
"Says the person that is telling you to go and let our friend inside, it's about to rain you know, in three...two...one."
Just then it began to pour heavily outside.
Without even bothering to reply, I got up from my chair and buzzed Rebecca in.
"Thanks guys!" I heard Rebecca say.
"How do you do that?"
"The simple laws of deduction. It's rather elementary my dear Watson, I wouldn't expect you to understand."
"How many times do I have to ask you not to say that to me? My name is Joseph. Jo-seph!"
"Ugh, fine. It's rather elementary my dear Joseph."
"Thank you."
"No problem, my dear Watson."
"I will kill you."
"Never will I doubt that."
"I'm glad it won't be a surprise for you then, James."
"Just promise me when you finally murder me, it will be while I am awake. I'd like to have some degree of honor when it comes to my demise."
"I promise."
><><><><><><><><><><><><
    So there is the best possible definition of James and I. We are basically the new generation of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, I'll let you figure out who is who. We met nearly two years ago on June 9th. I had just turned eighteen and my family was tired of my games, so they sent me to live on my own and learn how to make my way in the world, since they couldn't teach me how themselves.
    I can't blame them though, I was a troubled kid. When I would come home from school- if I even went to school that is- I would just come in the door, drop my bag, grab cash, then leave. Some days I would decide that home wasn't good enough for me, so I'd leave for days on end. I would usually go to the nearest train park, draw in some tunnels, get high, and other things of that sort. As you can imagine, I dropped out of school at the end of my junior year, and I did just what I wanted to do. Eventually my parents gave up and I was going places and doing things and getting off scott-free. Well, I guess the few occasions when I was locked up, my parents decided it was 'for the best' for me to stay there and do my time. I think I was in the pit for around two months total.
    Anyway, James is very different from me. He was raised like that of a prince. His parents were very rich and they always gave him what he wanted. I guess after nineteen years of this, he got fed up and just left. Every time I ask him why he left, he just says,"I just needed to get out on my own". I know that sounds like a sufficient reason, but something tells me there's more to the story.
    James has the most interesting personality. He can often make you feel special, then he can make you also feel very stupid, all in the same second. It can be pretty annoying, no doubt, but sometimes I just want to peek inside his mind to finally be able to see what and how he sees things. James is a very critical person. He always knows your soft spots, your pressure points, and simply how to grab and keep your attention. He is a psychopath though, so it's always best to keep a safe distance. He's the most unpredictable human being on the face of this planet, let alone America.
     Back to my story. After I got kicked out, I just hopped on a train and I let it take me where it would take me. Eventually I felt the need to get off the train when I hit Chicago. Yup, of course I picked the place where all the homeless congregate to fight over a day-old hotdog bun. But hey, I followed my instincts.
    I was heading near Millenium Park to find a spot where I could crash for the night without getting arrested. I managed to find a place near some kind of garden that seemed quiet enough, so I began to unpack my blanket.
    "Excuse me, you're in my spot." I heard someone say.
    I looked up and saw a man in a black and white striped trench coat. He had on a white bow tie and his hair was combed neatly back with gel, making him look Italian, even though he was obviously just American.
    "I'm sorry?" I asked.
    "My spot, you're in my spot. The spot where I like to think. I can only think in this one spot. All other spots are useless to me. Kindly remove yourself from my spot." He said, obviously irritated.
    Suddenly I felt enraged. I just got kicked out from my parents place, I jump on a train, I find a place in the park to sleep in, it's freezing out, it's my birthday, and this guy wants my spot so he can think!? How about no.
    "Uh, how about no? Find another place to  'think'." I said, with a hostile tone to make my point.
    I looked up at the man after a few seconds of pure silence. His face had turned bright red, which I could see even though it was dark out. He has hid fists tightened and his jaw clenched. I was begining to think he was getting angry.
    "Is there a problem?" I asked with a cocky expression.
    "No there isn't a problem. Why would there be a problem? It's not like there's a young man composed of only failure and rejection refusing to let me sit in the only place where I can think straight and relax my intelligent mind only because he has been kicked out of his parents' house because he is a delinquint! Why would I have a problem with that!? I'm totally fine with that!"
    His face slowly began to turn back to normal, thinking he made his point.
    "Oh, well I'm glad there's no problem then. Goodnight." I said with a snide smile and a light tone. For some reason I just wanted to cut this guy.
    Before I knew it, I was well over ten feet away from where I was sitting not a moment ago. Blood dripped into my eye. I tried my hardest to get back up, but it felt like I had at least sprained my knee.
    "What the heck man!?" I yelled.
    When I looked over to where the man was, all I saw was the black silhouette of a calm man sitting in my spot.
    My spot.
    I pushed myself to my feet and I headed back towards the scum that was in my spot. He was sitting there, with a slight smile, but otherwise a blank expression on his face.
    "Yo! Get out of my spot or I swear I will break you in two!"
    Nothing. Not even a blink. I got up in his face and began to yell.
    "Hello!! Anyone in there!? Get out of my spot or I'll-"
    "You'll what? Go to the police? Go right ahead. You smell like weed. Think they'll notice? I do. What else are you going to say to them? 'Excuse me Mr. Police man, I was trying to sleep illegally in the gardens and a man wanted to sit in my spot, can you please remove him so I may sleep illegally in that spot even though there are many other spots to illegally sleep in?' Go right ahead. See how that works out for you."
    This guy.
     I get kicked out of my parents' house on my birthday and I'm not even allowed to sleep on the ground? No, I was gonna kill this guy. I drew back my arm to make a blow for his face.
    As I lunged my arm forward, he looked at me. Time seemed to stand still for that one moment. He looked at me, right in my eyes. I felt...weird. I felt like he already knew me as if we had been friends for many years. I saw compassion, understanding, grace and patience in his eyes for that one moment.
    Then he punched me.
    I think that's the part where I passed out.
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    When I awoke, I was slouched in a beat-up brown leather love seat.

Friday, June 5, 2015

Just Grow Up For Once

     Odds are you read the title with a hostile tone, which is exactly what I intended. This is how I have needed to hear things, with a hostile tone. That's the only real thing I actually respond to, to be perfectly honest. I've lived rather a cushy life, so things like self-motivation don't come easily to me.
     Well, at least it didn't before.
     Now, yeah, this kind of thing applies to things like workouts, diet plans, homework accountability etc, but that's not exactly what I'm after.
     I'm talking about friendships.
     Now, if you're anything like me (and I'm not even remotely bragging by the way), you can talk to and be "friends" with just about anyone. Your average cordial chit-chat can just about make anyone like you. Yeah, I've got my fair share of "haters", but I tend to ignore them in the grand scheme of things. The beautiful curse that accompanies this gift I've had is my inability to trust just about anyone other than my very own mother. Not saying I tell her literally everything, because that would simply be an overload on her sometimes, but I have and always been able to put my life into her hands. It's a mother- daughter bond that I've been blessed to have. *Queue the sweet violin music*
      But that's where the list of people I truly trust just about ends. (Though one of my closest friends has shown me a great degree of trustworthiness by showing me he will tell me when I'm out of line and show me how to help myself.)
      I've had way too many instances where I realized I couldn't trust someone, and that hurt me greatly. That's usually why I never invest too much time into someone. Not saying I go around, looking over my shoulder constantly. I just don't have much of a reason to trust people.
      A lot of people in the past have told me to find new friends, and I've only ever really taken that advice once. It simply didn't work out, but that was also a few years ago. Now, I'm a recently graduated senior, stuck in the middle of nowhere, preparing to say goodbye to the people I had grown so close to over the past four years. Even though I knew this would happen, it still caught me by surprise.
      You know that overwhelming sensation where you feel so suffocated with things like homework and schedules? This is almost like the opposite of that: I've got nothing to do, and nowhere to go.  My friends are gone (or are going to be), and all I can do is sit here and think about it.
     Or so I thought.
     This is where I just need to grow up for once. Sitting around like I've been doing, sulking and sleeping all day, doesn't solve anything. Whether or not I even like it, life goes on, even after I start college. Yeah, I'm gonna do my first year online, but I have no intention to stay home like I've been doing. I'm gonna make my first year insane. Try to stop me.
      Last time I graduated, I didn't think about my future, I just sat around and sulked like I've been doing these past couple weeks. Well, now I'm just going to grow up. God wouldn't pull me away from what I got used to if it wasn't worth my while. I fully believe that my best days are still ahead of me. It's time to stop pitying myself and wasting my time doing things I won't even remember the next day. It's time to actually live my life.
      I'll rip off my band-aid now and get the healing process started.