Alice Electro

Beautiful! I know it's been around a while, but I'm slow sometimes on this whole internet thing.
(Found at: In Shadows...)

Great Words/ Great Card

Saw this Post Secret today. It completely put everything I have had on my mind into perspective. I'm sick of just passing through. We only get a few good years on this rock, so why do we waste it working, worrying and crying.

Life is about getting out there. It's about experiencing as much as you can. It's about loving every day because you did what you wanted to. It's not about "what ifs".

This is something I've been thinking about a lot lately. Two night ago I had this very same conversation over dinner. Today I'm going to start trying to put it into practice. The problem of course, as it always has been and always will be, is money. But fuck it! If Leo could do it, then maybe I can too.

Truths of Youth

A little off topic, but oh well. Indulge me...

1. When I was younger I wanted to be a fireman, a doctor, a baker. Never a mother or wife.

2. As a kid I liked to cut my own hair, resulting in many tears when I loped off my beautiful golden locks leaving me with a bob.

3. I used to collect rolly-pollies in my pockets every day. Sand was procured as habitat for my pocket pets.
a. My mom was used to finding dead rolly-pollies and a hand full of sand in each of my pants on wash day.

4. My sister’s cat Jasper used to sleep above my head every night. One time he rolled over on my face and almost suffocated me in the middle of the night.

5. I nearly lost my front teeth when I was 4 due to a Yoo-hoo bottle and a car door.

6. Figment, Teddy, and my Fisher-Price kitchen were my favorite toys as a child.
a. I still sleep with Teddy every night. But have since lost both Figment and my Fisher-Price kitchen.

7. I lied about having a chemistry lab in my basement when I was in elementary school. My house didn’t even have a basement, and my “lab” was a chemistry set I got for Christmas.

8. I never got to be the pink Power Ranger, but I usually just wanted to be the yellow one anyways.

9. I watched Saturday morning cartoons far past the point I should have stopped.

10. I got my first “F” in fourth grade during my first day at my new school in Florida. I cried even though it didn’t count towards my grade. The experience scarred me for the rest of my educational career.

11. My school in Kentucky begged my parents to wait two months to move to Florida so I could take the standardized test with my class and bring up the schools score. Yes, the town was small enough one student would make a difference. And yes, I was the smartest person in my class.

12. I would pretend I was Little Orphan Annie in my backyard. I also pretended to be an archeologist.

13. I had a jar of arrow heads my grandpa and I found in the field behind his house.

14. I collected locust husks and played with daddy-long-legs while the other girls collected baubles and played with dolls.

15. My first snow man was built on my grandparent’s porch railing. He was a foot tall.

16. I kept a caterpillar in a coffee can. One day it turned into a giant moth. I thought it was magic.

17. My fear of the dentist started after being yelled at for crying while my front teeth were being pulled.

18. My sister saved a snapping turtle once. It was the devil. She also saved a kitten from being taken into the humane society. It was an angel.

19. I still don’t know what happened to my grandparent’s dog after my grandpa died.

20. I yelled at a fireman for spraying water on my great-grandma’s house during a demonstration at school.

21. I always loved snow days until I got stuck in the house for two weeks with my family during a blizzard.

22. I lost my first tooth to a Sugar-Daddy during lunch. My sister would not let me put it under my pillow, so my teeth got put on top of the living room television.

23. Moving back to Florida made all of my body issues reappear. 5, 10 or 20… Age makes no difference when you can’t see yourself correctly.

24. I liked my mom’s boyfriend when I was 5 better than my dad.

25. I was never as cool as I wanted to be. But I was never as dorky as I thought I was.

The Elite

e⋅lite/ [i-leet, ey-leet] –noun
1. (often used with a plural verb ) the choice or best of anything considered collectively, as of a group or class of persons.
2. (used with a plural verb ) persons of the highest class: Only the elite were there.
3. a group of persons exercising the major share of authority or influence within a larger group: the power elite of a major political party.

Elitist make little to no sense to me. I understand the draw of feeling “better than” or a part of something special. But I do not understand how you can manifest that into belittling someone else.

I see Orlando as a cesspool of elitists. They run around town with their noses in the air as if they know a flood is coming and they don’t want to drown. They see you out, and though they may have known you 6 years ago, they are now too important to talk to you. Instead they turn a cheek and carry on in their “Oh so very important” conversation. I often wonder what they think is so great about themselves to behave in such a fashion.

It’s not like I haven’t been a part of a group and felt a special bond to it. I’m gay, a woman, and grew up in a southern Baptist home around the mountains of Kentucky. I had my sister, who is also gay, but we were nothing alike and didn’t really get along. I clung to my identity early on. Held it close and thought no one understood. When I found others that were like me, understood me, believed the way I did I fell into an idea of being someone on the inside. I thought that my group of friends held a secret that the outside world was too clueless to get. But then I grew up. I realized that there are millions of other gays out there; that my group of friends was special, but only because they were special to me. We had no life altering secret, and that I was like anyone else. I had simply thought myself grandiose and needed to stop. So, I did. It was easy! So why then is it so hard to everyone else to get it. Elitism get’s you nothing but enemies. It starts wars and ends lives when blown out of proportion.

- Artists, stop thinking that your art will change the world. It probably won’t. Just create for yourself, and know that that is enough.

- Dude bros, your fraternity is not that cool, and no one cares how much beer you can take in a beer bong. Stop putting on a show. That slutty drunk girl you’ve been eying all night would sleep with a monkey right about now. You shouldn’t have any problem getting in.

- Slutty drunk girls, stop drinking!!! You’ve already had a couple of abortions and the lady at the clinic is threatening to cut you off of “morning-after” pills. When you look back at your life do you really not want to be able to remember anything because you blacked out too much? I take that back, you’ll remember the shame of waking up every Sunday morning hugging the toilet in some dude bro’s bathroom.

- Hipsters, you are not original. I’m admittedly one of you, but I know that when I go out about 15 other girls are going to be dressed just like me. I also know that though it sucks for my favorite bands to be on MTV, they wouldn’t be there if they didn’t want to be. So I live with it and move on. When I hear a 6 year old singing M.I.A. I feel a tinge of regret but remember to be happy that the kid at least has good taste.

- Hardcore kids/ straight-edge kids… Hardcore is not my style. I get it helps some kids and they love it, but it by no means gives them the right to be assholes, which in my history they sometimes are. So I don’t listen to your music. Sorry, I don’t find some guy screaming that enjoyable. The ability to be straight-edge is something I admire. However, do not judge me for drinking. I never made a promise not to do so, nor did I promise not to smoke or have sex. If you did, awesome! But I'd like to get a vodka and red bull now.

- Bike kids, the new man on the block, at least here in Orlando. You have taken over my once car ridden town and turned it into an earth-loving hippie community. Now, I am a self-professed hippie in many rights. I go to protests, was in the Conservation Club, and often wore Birkenstocks and hemp jewelry. However, bike kids are more into what kind of bike they ride and less into why it’s great that so many people are riding instead of driving. I don’t care if you ride a fixed or single speed. I don’t care how long you worked on it or what you paid for it. I just want you to stop pulling out in front of me on Orange Ave and to stop chaining your bikes up on the sidewalk outside of BBQ Bar so that my drunk ass can’t get to the car I shouldn’t be driving in the first place.

(EDIT: Certain parts of this post have been edited as they were misunderstood. For that I am sorry. It's never my intention to hurt others. I have friends that either used to fit or still fit into all of these catagories. My statements are generalizations, not geared toward the individual. I know there are amazing and kind people in all facets of life. Remember, 9/10ths of what I say is a joke. So laugh it out and have fun. If you can't laugh at yourself you shouldn't laugh at all. Also, it's my blog and my opinions, so too bad! ;])

Scary X-mas

Today is that grand day that all 6 year olds look forward to every year. They save up all their good behavior in hopes of getting that new basketball hoop they've been hinting at since June. It's Christmas time, and I'm sitting in my Florida room alone and unshowered.

I've lived on my own for 5 years now. In that time my mom has moved to Kentucky, my extended family has stopped celebrating holidays like we did when I was a kid, and I've grown cynical and grumpy about all things Christmas.

When I was a kid my whole family got together. My grandparents would come in from Kentucky around Thanksgiving time and would stay through April. On Christmas day I would wake up as early as my little body would let me. I'd run around the house to wake up my mom and sister. I'd sit right next to the tree so I could pass out all the presents, making sure I always had the last present to open. After all the wrapping paper had been ripped and all the gifts had been played with we would head over to my Aunt Pine's house. The whole family would be there, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins... everyone.

We'd spend the day playing games and making dinner. After a huge meal that usually left me sore and tired we'd sit around and sing Christmas carols. My uncles would pull out their guitars and we'd all sing along to their melodies. I'd sing too, but I never quite knew the words. Instead I would sing "lalalalalala" in the tune of whatever song was being strummed. Once I had requested "Silent Night" for the tenth time my Uncles would smile and tell me it was time for presents.

My Papaw would pull out his camera and videotape each and every gift opened. I was always so proud to show off my kitten sweater or costume jewelry. One year I got a bunny rabbit. I didn't even see him sitting there. My family just kept laughing and I didn't know why. I thought I was doing something really stupid. I turned around to hide my face and I saw him. I screamed so loud I think I scared the neighbors. This was one of the first Christmas's without Papaw, I wish he had been there to catch it on his camera. He would have been very pleased to have that caught on tape for eternity.

This was my Christmas as a kid. Family sitting around bonding and loving each other. Now it's me sitting on a couch talking to my roommate's cat. It's friends feeling sorry for me and inviting me over for the day. But spending time with other families just reminds me it's not my family. That I"m missing out on something. That I miss something.

Damn you Orlando! I hate being here on days like this.

Road Time

Tomorrow I will be setting off on an adventure of sorts. I'll be going on a trip down south to visit some old friends. Aud will be having her biggest art show to date and after that I'll be in Hollywood to finish out the weekend.

I need time away from this city. It's been months since I've ventured further than Deltona. Time spent at home isn't even enough anymore. I just need to escape. Here's to hoping this weekend can do just that!

This is a poem I wrote last time I headed down south. It always makes me long for somewhere else not quite here.

Loud noises coming from small mouths,
Memories carried by winds headed south.
Unexpected moments caught in tiny glass jars.
Friends made in run down old bars.
Time's running late and hope is fading,
But these small tokens keep me waiting.
For brighter light and shining thoughts,
Bringing back that for which I've fought.

Down Time

Last night was spent indoors. The quiet santuary of cotton jersey sheets and feather pillow overpowered my will. Sometimes the loud calls from the 20-somethings caravaning to a new night of debauchery just isn't enough to rouse me. Sometimes I need time away. Sometimes I just want a burrito from Chipotle and a L Word marathon.
Hibernation was my plan last night. A goal I expect to repeat again tonight. Downtown has become predictable to me. Go out, meet up with friends, watch drama between said friends unfold, get hit on by the same 3 girls, drink one too many red bull and vodkas, dance to songs 3 years too old to still be played in bars and finally go home spinning and horny but too tired to do anything about it. All this only to wake up hung over and drag myself to work for 9 hours while I complain about my state of health.
A few days off is needed from all things. So time spent at home is my time away. I miss you downtown, but not nearly enough to warrant emergence from my warm peaceful bed.