Bonus post! about my cats, of all things.

Yeah yeah yeah. I know I already posted a blog for July 5th and I plan on posting one for what is technically today later, since the day hasn't really happened yet but... See. I fell asleep around 7:30-ish because I was just so entirely exhausted. Then I woke up at one in the morning (it's three now) and couldn't get back to bed. So I watched some Supernatural and spent some time alone, just mulling around and being nocturnal. And when I'm alone like that, I get to thinking and therefore, get the urge to blog about those thoughts (however irrelevant and out-of-nowhere they may be).

My family has three cats, Rose, John Connor, and Danger Cat. Rose is an old lady, she's been around since I was seven or eight years old (which makes her nine or ten), she's got black fur with random brownish speckles. She used to have quite the personality, but now, in her older years she's grown rather tired and aloof. Danger Cat is a girl, she was a Christmas present for me and my little sister back in '08, she's got the shiniest black coat with a white patch on her chest. Danger Cat got her name because she runs around the house as if the "Mission Impossible" theme is playing in her head. She'll attack anything that moves and don't you dare tick her off.

And then there's my baby, John Connor. John Connor and I met at a sketchy animal auction in Venus (which is basically a part of redneck country where my real mom lives) in April 2009, he was in a wire cage with a sign taped to it reading "free". Now, the original purpose in obtaining a kitten was for my ex boyfriend, Bradley. He had been wanting one for a while and so I called him and asked if he still wanted a cat, and he said yes so I went to pull one out of the cage.

There were two kittens in there, and my first instinct was to reach for the adorable, chubbier one that was sleeping in the back. But as soon as I reached for her, the other kitten started freaking out, mewing and clawing at me through the cage, sad and disappointed (anyone who says animals don't feel emotion is a liar, you could hear the rejection in this poor kitten's cry), and my heart just broke. I placed the sleeping kitten I had originally picked up back into the cage (it was pretty apathetic and slept through the entire ordeal), and scooped wee John Connor into my hands. He was so small, the size of a tennis ball maybe, with big blue eyes and six toes on each paw. He immediately curled up against my chest and began purring like a motorboat. I was in love.

Well, that night Bradley and I broke up over the telephone due to some outside drama (yes, the telephone, lame, I know). And after how much he had ticked me off (it's all blown over and we're good friends now, by the way, we were just two people who should never, ever be in a relationship with anyone at all, let alone each other. But, I digress...) I was certainly not placing the life of such an adorable and precious creature in his hands. So, much to my dad's displeasure, the kitten was mine.

Now John Connor is all grown up, and he's the love of my life. He has such a sweet but adventurous temperament. I love him like he's my child, and when I move out of my house, he's coming with me. He also thinks he's a person. He likes to eat at the table and "knocks" on doors and he even has thumbs.

This evening I shared such a special moment with John Connor and Danger Cat. That sounds really odd. And you guys are probably like, "wow, this girl is going to be a crazy cat lady!" but I don't care.

The sky outside was just getting dark, and it was raining, so there was this gorgeous blue light filling up my room. I was laying in my bed, exhausted and falling asleep, listening to Grizzly Bear (which is one of my favorite bands to fall asleep to). John Connor and Danger Cat walk in. John Connor takes up post at the foot of my bed, keeping my feet warm in the meantime. He just sat there licking his paws and purring and observing. Danger Cat curled up next to my chest, her head sort of resting on me. And in that moment, everything was completely perfect. We were all just there, listening to the beautiful music and keeping each other safe. That moment was a Patronus.

I don't care what anyone says, my cats are fully capable and sentient beings with emotions and self awareness and motivations.

As much as I love dogs (I love all animals, really, and if it weren't for my rabbit allergy I really would have ended up becoming a vet tech) I will always be a die-hard cat person. I don't understand how anybody can dislike cats. They're intelligent and self-sustaining and they always seem to have a higher awareness of what's going on than most other pets. My cats always seem to know when something's up. If I'm sad, they freaking KNOW. They'll immediately come and cuddle with me or push their faces into my palm. If I'm angry, they stay out of the way. When I'm in a good mood, they know that's a good opportunity to beg for food.

They all have different personalities, and some can be more aggressive or friendlier than others, but generally cats will not go out of their way to bother you, unless you do something to tick them off. For example, one time when I still lived with my mother, my little brother kicked our cat Moo one day and later she took a dump in his closet (more proof that cats are crazy intelligent.)

Dear god. I love cats. But mostly mine. As I write this, John Connor is sitting on the floor of my bedroom swatting intently at one of my scarves hanging from my bed post.

So no one will probably read this entire post about my cats. But I don't care. I feel satisfied now. I got my writing jollies out. I was going to continue this post by writing about my thoughts and opinions on the nuclear family, but I'll save that one for another late night like this.

Keep calm and purr on.

Into your loving arms I'll sink, sink, sink

COOL KIDZ: Lisa, Misty, Sabrina, Marina, Alycia, Kaelin, Marta & James

So I got to go to Wet 'n Wild today. Which is a water park, for those of you who don't live in the states. With brightly colored plastic slides and over-chlorinated water and really attractive lifeguards.

I went with my ex-best friend (now I guess we've been demoted to good friends? I haven't hung out with her in forever) Kastina and her boyfriend, Kanyon. Isn't it interesting how they both have unique names that start with "K"? I think so. It was fun. We got there way, way too early and were literally the first people there.

There was lots of stairs and lots of walking around so I didn't do my cardio when I got home and I don't feel bad about that. I do however, feel bad about the chocolate ice cream I downed. I did do my yoga though.

I rode this one slide called the Bomb Bay, and basically, you stand in this rocketship shaped compartment and the operator presses a button and the floor below you disappears and you drop almost vertically down. It's pretty terrifying and I hated it and I hope I never have to do it again. The only reason I did it this time was because Kastina threatened to leave me at the park if I chickened out. So, I took the plunge.

But now I'm home, I'm sufficiently sore and tired and don't really feel like existing.

Oh, and someone on YouTube told me I reminded them of Zooey Deschanel a few days ago (or maybe it was a few weeks ago, I just forgot to ever mention it) and of all the sweet and wonderful things YouTube commenters have said over the past couple of years, that was about the highest compliment anyone could ever give me. Ever. Zooey Deschanel is my idea of a perfect human being. And I don't think I come anywhere close to resembling her in any way, but the fact that someone else would think so pretty much makes my life.

Since this blog is so short and boring and pointless, here's a picture of Jared Padelecki.

I don't feel like doing tallies today. I'll do them tomorrow. KAY LOVE YOU GUYS BYE.

Party in the USA?

Hey commenters, you guys are the coolest. Alycia, Kristin, Sabrina, Rebecca, Marina, Marta, James and Misty.

So last night after I posted my last entry, I got a phone call from my good friend Chase, who asked if I wanted to go on a Dairy Queen run. He came and picked me up and we quickly discovered that Dairy Queen isn't open at 10:40 PM on a Saturday night... So we went to McDonald's and got sundaes there instead.

We sat in his car and discussed music for a while... And then the subject turned to Posh Spice, who is one of his good friends. We just kind of reflected on everything... he told me some things about what he's been up to recently, and I guess it all just caught me in kind of a weak moment, probably having something to do with the fact that his mom had texted me earlier, and I just started crying. The hurt all came back, and I just felt empty. I just sat there, crying in Chase's car, wondering where I had gone wrong.

But then I pulled myself together pretty quickly, reminded myself how much better things are without him, and what a douche he really is, and I was okay.

This morning I woke up feeling sick. I was still able to start that six week exercise plan though. I did 20 minutes of jogging and then these yoga poses. For the record, I fail completely at yoga.

But I ended up feeling worse as the day went on so I stayed home while my family went to Downtown Disney. Which was probably better for me since if I had gone I would have completely gorged myself on delicious Disney food.

I also watched the first two episodes of season five of Supernatural online.

I took a nap, and it was one of those really intense naps that you only get when you're seriously ill, and I woke up covered in sweat. I took a gloriously long shower, and now I really want to watch Half Blood Prince. Too bad it's the only Harry Potter film that I don't personally own. So I'll just reread the book.

So yeah. This has been a typical, boring post, which I guess is a nice refresher from the past couple days of angst.

Oh. I just received a text from my old best friend Kastina. Me and her used to be completely inseparable. But we grew apart this past school year... We haven't hung out since Christmastime. But she just asked me to go to Wet n Wild with her tomorrow... I think I'm going to do it. It can't hurt.

So yeah. That's all for today folks.

Weight: 110.6 (Not nearly as bad as I thought it would be, but I definitely lost some tone and want to get down to like 105, so I'm continuing with the whole boot camp plan.)

Twitter followers: 931

Episodes left in season five of Supernatural: 22

Home sweet home!

Thank you's for Marina, Kaelin, Sabrina, Alycia, Marta, James, Misty, Blair, and Carolyn. You guys are always so great.

So, I'm home now. And I'm very glad to be. I love being at my aunt's house, but, there really is nothing quite like sleeping in your own bed.

What really surprised me is how much I missed my dad. He really is amazing. My dad and I have had a really spotty history, before I moved in with him, when I lived with my mom, he very rarely called or visited or anything. And it really hurt me, and sometimes it still makes me sad when I think about it, considering he knew what my mom was like. But, he is still perfect in my eyes. And always will be. Lately I have been just itching to move out, but then when I saw my dad's face today it reminded me how much he really means to me. I love my dad.

As soon as I woke up this morning, I downed a few more chocolate chip cookies, and watched the last four episodes of season four of Supernatural with my aunt and uncle. And I really can't wait to find out what happens next. I figure I'll torrent season five now, and buy it on DVD when it comes out. So addictive.

Then we made the two hour drive back to my city, and they stayed and chatted with my parents for a while.

Before I took a shower I was tempted to weigh myself... But instead I'm going to wait until tomorrow morning, for accuracy. Terrified. Thankfully, when I got home today there was the new issue of Seventeen waiting for me (with Rihanna on the cover, I'm not a huge fan of her music but on a personal level I think she is a wonderful role model and a beautiful woman) and it has this whole six week workout plan thing in it that I think I'll try. It'll take me less than two weeks to get back to the shape and weight I was at before I went to Tampa, but there's no harm in being healthier.

I got a text from Posh Spice's mom today, asking about my Fourth of July plans. It made my day. I love hearing from her. I miss her so much. Posh Spice's house was pretty much my second home, and I was really close with his mom and his grandparents. So, breaking up not only messed up the relationship and friendship we had, but it tore me away from these wonderful people who had become my family. That was definitely one of the hardest parts of being dumped. I still miss them and think about them every day.

It's so good to be home.

Jack's Mannequin just came on my itunes (it's on shuffle) and for a brief moment, I was shot back through time, I was fourteen years old again, wearing sharpie-covered Converse and purple dye in my hair, not caring about anything but the music. Feeling emotions I didn't quite understand yet.

But of course, just as every song ends (now Tame Impala is playing), so did that stage in my life. I never would've imagined at fourteen years old that my life would be the way it is, right this second. And that was only three years ago. If you had told me back then that over the next few years I would find the courage to move out of my mom's house, start over at a brand new high school, get in with the "wrong crowd" but then pull myself back out, stop throwing up, befriend the most beautiful people I've ever seen, fall in love with my best friend, get totally torn apart by said best friend after the most intense and involved relationship ever, graduate high school in one piece, and end up pre-majoring in psych, I would have looked at you like you were crazy. At the rate I was going, I was almost positive I was going to off myself before it was all over with. I never told anybody that. Mostly because I always had hope. I couldn't see a world past the one I was living in then, but I had faith that it was there anyways. And I try and apply that concept to every other part of my life, to this day.

Anyway. That's all for now folks. See you tomorrow.

Weight: We'll see tomorrow, won't we?

Pre-life crisis related tantrums had this summer: 2

Twitter followers: 926

Carry on, my wayward son.

First of all, big thank you's for Alycia, Misty, Anais, James, Sabrina, Marina, Marta, Blair, Carolyn, and Hannah. You guys are seriously amazing. And all of your comments from yesterday's posts were incredibly supportive. I don't know why you guys seem to care so much, but I'm really glad you do. Many of you made the point that I shouldn't have to defend or apologize for how I feel. And I agree with you. I think I was more apologizing for people's reactions more than anything. But yes. This blog is going to be where I say whatever I want, no censoring, no filters.

Today was fun, we watched more Supernatural (four episodes left of season four!). Honestly guys, if you have not watched this series, you should. But start from the beginning. Because if you don't get all of it in piece by piece, it'll just be too much.

We also went to pick up my uncle from the airport, because he's been in New York for the past week. He's a really nice guy, and we all went to Five Guys for dinner. I'd never had Five Guys before, and dear god... it was amazingly delicious and heavenly, but it's an experience I don't think I can afford to relive. It was like swallowing five pounds of cholesterol and fat covered in grease... But it was worth it. And we made chocolate chip cookies, from scratch. I ate like, ten.

Yeah, as soon as I get home (which will be tomorrow, after we finish Supernatural) I'm checking myself into boot camp, Bree Bear style. Working out every minute I can spare, and eating nothing but fruit and veggies and fiber bars. At least just until I get my weight back to normal. Yeah. That's the plan.

I think, that's the worst after-effect from losing twenty pounds the way I did. My metabolism is now completely screwed over. I have to seriously watch myself now. I sometimes have off-days, but off-weeks? I never do this, and I'm terrified. I don't know what I'm going to do about Independence Day, because every year my family goes to Downtown Disney, and we eat at the Earl of Sandwich and have dessert at Ghiradelli's. Yeah. This is definitely the worst after-effect. Missing out on things like that. That's way worse than losing my hair or the fact that I'm always constipated.

Yeah. By the way guys, I'm losing my hair. And it seriously freaks me out. It's been happening for a while now. And I promise you, it's not a normal amount of hair loss. I stopped dying my hair, trying to eat more protein, and I'm going to order some pre-natal vitamins, all to try and slow it down. I used to have the thickest, craziest, poofiest hair you'd ever seen. Now it's all flat and thin unless I put product in.

But yeah. The moral of the story here is, if you want to lose weight, do it the right way. It'll take forever and you'll probably get really discouraged, but it'll be worth it. Don't go the eat-less-than-800-calories-a-day route. It works, and works fast, but for a price much higher than that slice of cheesecake.

Oh and please, don't get the wrong idea about this post, guys. My "diet" was not an eating disorder, at all. Not even the same realm. It was just an act of desperation, and I was able to stop it as soon as I didn't want it anymore. Girls with eating disorders don't get out that easily.

Anyway. Enough of my rambling. I'm going back home tomorrow, and as much as I love being here in Tampa, I'm really ready to get back to my life. And to get rid of this weight.

Goodnight dears.

Weight: Worst nightmare

Pre-life crisis related tantrums had this summer: 2

Twitter followers: 922

CONTROVERSY AND SUCH.

Okay. This will be another quickie, seeing as it is three in the morning and I have absolutely no drive or desire to write this at all.

COMMENTERZ. Love for Blair, Misty, Marina, Eryn, Ella, Sabrina, Anonymous reader, Kristin, Alycia, Anonymous reader #2, Elz, James, and Lauryn. You guys are the greatest and if I had more energy and willpower right now I would give each and every one of your amazing and thoughtful comments the attention it deserves.

First things first. It's no secret that last night's post caused a little bit of controversy. And you know, I kind of wish I hadn't posted it now, it was really late at night, I wasn't thinking of what people's reactions might be, I was just writing how I felt. So for that, I apologize. I want to clear a couple things up though.

First of all. Keep the hate off this blog, plain and simple. I understand that this is the internet and you can do whatever you want, but please. I don't care if you flame me anywhere else- YouTube, Formspring, whatever, none of that bothers me, but just keep it out of here. This blog is very personal to me, I don't plan on holding back at all here. This is where I write about my life. And my life is the one place that internet "haters" should not be able to touch. So I am asking you nicely. Take it somewhere else.

Second of all, to the first of the two people that felt the need to post an anonymous hateful comment yesterday- You can call me lots of things. But there are three things that I know for sure that I'm not. I'm not boring, I'm not fake, and I'm not stupid. As far as "stupid" goes, I may be seventeen and I am aware that I don't know everything there is to know about life and I'm aware that I have a lot to learn. But that doesn't make me stupid. I know for a fact that I am a highly intelligent and capable girl whose been through her own share of trials and tribulations (and no, I'm not talking stupid boy issues here). So that's how I feel about that.

And on a less important note, I want to clarify that when I was criticizing Posh Spice's photograph yesterday, I was not at all trying to degrade him or try to make him appear unsuccessful. The kid is very talented (I'm no expert in his field or genre, obviously, but from what I can tell, he's got talent) and I'm not petty enough to be like, "oh, I hope his band fails and I hope he fails at life and ends up working at McDonald's for the rest of his life". However, I'm not going to be one of those trite little bitches who say things like, "I wish him nothing but the best in life!" and "I know he will make it far!" because to tell you the truth, I don't care either way. Whether he succeeds or fails at his aspirations, it has no effect on his character. Basically, it doesn't matter if he gets famous or not if he's still a douche. Money can't buy happiness.

And the other thing is that, I know I might come off as just a bitter ex-girlfriend, but there is always more to the story than that. I'm not going to go into specifics because I don't want to tick anyone off but... I can promise I'm not just some stupid girl who assumes someone is a terrible person just because they got tired of being in a relationship. There is always more to the story, and I think people forget that far too often.

Okay. Well, I'm sure that just made the anonymous jerks from yesterday even more mad, but seeing as it's almost four in the morning I can't be bothered to care.

I guess what we can all learn from this is. What I feel, and what I experience, is going to come out in this blog sometimes. And, as a human being, it's not always going to be peachy happy super duper sunshine and roses. And it's not always going to be intelligent or thought out or planned.

Thankfully, I'm generally a happy person. Especially lately. Life has been treating me, for the most part, well. I am dealing with some family stuff, but it's nothing I can't ignore for a while, and it's nothing I haven't faced before. Hell, it's nothing compared to what it used to be. At least now I don't have to share a house with it. I guess I am coming to terms with the fact that it's something that's going to follow me everywhere, all my life. I'll be thirty years old and it'll be the same thing.

But beyond that? Like I said in my last blog, I'm seventeen years old and I'm out of high school. This is the time of my life, these are the good years! I have absolutely nothing holding me back, I have a bright future to create, and anything is possible. And I don't know about you, but I am thrilled.

I can sum up today's events in just a couple sentences. We finished season three of Supernatural, and have started season four. And holy crap, this show is intense. Like, I can't even...

Jared Padelecki is gorgeous though, really.

Weight: We'll find out in two days!

Pre-life crisis related tantrums had this summer: 2

Twitter followers: 922

Yeah. Demon killing and such.

Virtual hugs and kisses all around for Sabrina, Marina, Emiley, Alycia, Bec, Rebecca, James, Lauryn, Ashley, Hannah, and Misty! Love you guys.

So, seeing as it's 2:30 AM, this is probably going to be another semi-short post. Or not. We'll see. We're just going to let the words flow.

Today was... not productive or eventful. I am almost ashamed of myself. As I sit here on on my aunt's couch wrapped up in covers, planning on going to sleep immediately after writing this post, I am wearing the same pajamas I fell asleep in last night...

We finished season two of Supernatural, and I only have two words: HOLY SHIT. We are now two episodes into season three.

Yeah. Making my FTFK video was about the only productive thing I did all day. I also ate some delicious grilled cheese.

Oh. But I did see Posh Spice's band's new MySpace layout and promos... Apparently he posted it on Facebook and a lot of our mutual friends "liked" it, so it showed up on my news feed, much to my displeasure. But, I figured a small peek wouldn't hurt.

He looked ridiculous. Don't get me wrong, the quality of the photographs and layout was superb, but he just looked ridiculous. And all I could do was laugh. And then I showed my Aunt Shana and she laughed too. And commentated on how homosexual he looked. She is most definitely not the first person to have had that theory. Or the second, or the third...

Anyway. Point is. It kind of stirred things up for me again. All of the resentment and the wishing I could have done things differently... I asked my aunt, "Hey, why did I date such a douche?" She asked me, "How old were you?" "I had just turned sixteen." "That's why," she said. And she's right, to an extent. There were other underlying issues also. I'm a pretty self-destructive person, and he used me and psychologically fucked me over from the very beginning, from the very first time we met. So naturally, I was hooked. I became his best friend, I fell head over heels in love with him, refused to let myself even look at another guy that way, completely dedicated myself to him, for almost five months before we dated. And during those five months, I cannot even begin to tell you the magnitude with which he screwed me over. And that last final time, the worst time, when not even a day after telling me, "I don't want to be in a relationship with you or push anything romantic on you because I don't want to hurt you," he ended up making out with me on my couch while we were watching the Smurfs (this wasn't the first time that this sort of thing had happened, it was just that we had been through so much of it already and he promised he wouldn't do it to me anymore). Then acted like nothing had happened the rest of the night. When I asked him about it, he told me it was a slip of self control, basically. And then the next day, I found out he liked this girl from our school who I didn't even know he knew (and I was his "best friend").

And that was just BEFORE we dated. And it doesn't even scratch the surface. I could write a freaking book. Like really. You don't even KNOW.

But wow. I didn't mean for that paragraph to be so long. It's just... I don't really know. I guess what bothers me the most about Posh Spice is that he puts himself off as this wonderful, loving, caring person. And then does things that totally go against it. He also has a terrible habit of avoiding all of his problems, his "demons" so to speak.

I guess it may have to do with the fact that I've been watching Supernatural for three (four?) days straight, but I like to think that rather than running from my demons, like Posh Spice does, I should be kicking their asses and sending them straight back to where they came from, just like Sam and Dean do on Supernatural... however I don't think I'm quite there yet. I'm still a step ahead of Posh Spice though. At least I acknowledge my demons. I embrace them, even, at times. I work with them. I come by it honestly. So I can go to sleep at night knowing, that no matter what, no one can ever call me a fake. I know what I am, I know where I've been, and I'm capable of. I just don't know where I'm going. But I'll figure it out.

Hahaha. I bet most of you reading this blog are like, "what?"

But that's okay.

Well there's your angst, guys! Haha. And there's plenty more where that came from!

No text from Tastycake either. I'm pretty sure he probably thought I was some psycho-crazy-wacked-out stalker. But that's okay. I tried. I'm actually kind of sorry for him. I put quite the burden on his shoulders- making him carry the torch of hope for all the guys of the world and all. And hey, maybe he just hasn't gotten around to it. We'll see.

I'm single. I'm seventeen. I'm mildly adorable, even if I am awkward and shy and socially incapable. I make up for that in quirkiness and a charming outlook on life. Life is perfect right now. And I plan on making the most of it. Starting with this summer.

The demon ass-kicking will have to wait. For now, I am going to enjoy myself as I am. Late night blog postings and all.

Days gone without contacting Posh Spice: Who cares? He's a piece of shit.

Weight: Dear god.

Pre-life crisis related tantrums had this summer: 2

Twitter followers: 920