Howling at the Moon

It is the second semester of me being at Western CT State University and a lot has changed for me. I've definitely established who my friends are. I have a new boyfriends who I've been dating for about three months now, who I am crazy about. And I am a wolf. Yes, a wolf.

It all started back in October when I noticed there was a pack of wolves, or massive coyotes, or a hybrid of both, living in my yard at night. Sometimes, they howl, or other times I will look out my window and two of them will be ravaging some sort of carcass. So over time, my apartment became "The Wolf Den." There are five wolves known to the pack in my yard. I have obviously named them...I mean really, why wouldn't I.

First, there is Jacob, the alpha, obviously named after Jacob from Twilight. He pretty much oversees all that happens at The Wolf Den and is always there for his kin whenever they need him. He keeps the wolf pack together and makes sure everything is distributed evenly. if there is a problem, go to Jacob. I am Jacob.

Second, there is Nanuk, the beta, the next in line to run the pack if and when Jacob is not up for such tasks. Although, Nanuk is a wonderful and caring wolf of sorts, he is still aggressive and ready to snap at a threat. This is Paige.

Third, there is Anubis, the baby wolf with a big heart. He is adorable and cuddly and shows love to all who are in the pack. He believes in the good in everyone, but the downfall is when someone lets him down, that's when he will attack. This is Chelsea.

Fourth, there is Achilles, the packs silliest wolf. He likes to joke around and play fight with the rest of the pack. We use Achilles for his social skills, for everyone loves Achilles. This Is Nicole.

Fifth, last but not least, there is Hrothgar. Hrothgar is the eldest of the pack and frequently missing. He has a cataract and is usually the one that worries the most about the well-being of the pack. He is pretty much a wolf of wisdom as well. This is Kaitie.

These are the five closest girl friends I have hear. Our Wolf Den meetings consist of drinking wine, dancing to Ke$ha, eating keebler elf cookies and other junk. We usually end up talking about penises and boobs...as per usual.

I mentioned that I am currently in a relationship with someone. Well, his name is Brennen, he is a giant, arian man. I like him, I'll keep him. He is a big teddy bear pretty much. He is hilarious and jolly. He is like a hot santa claus, maybe? Either way, I'm into him. I finally found somebody worth it instead of guessing if this boy, or that boy thinks I'm hot. No games, it's just easy.

As for my friends from home, Marisa is embracing her new found beauty and experimenting with being a slut. I am so proud of her it makes me puke. Garrett has found himself happy at the Naval Academy but also found himself a new attitude of being a massive douchebag to anyone and everyone around him and he knows it but he does not really care, so there really isn't any way to get through to him.

When he comes home, he is the fun, wonderful, caring Garrett that I love to be with, but then when he goes back he turns into a massive dickweed. I guess I have to love him unconditionally as I said I would. I love him, but that does not mean I have to like him all the time. Merri is still in love wit her boy Brandon and Zoe found herself in the arms of a boy she has likes for over a year. His name is Doug. He is cool I guess.

I love living on my own. I really do. I like coming to to a serene apartment on the lake. I think the only company I do miss on a constant basis is my sister Andrea. We are so alike in every way that we don't bother each other even when we are constantly around. I just wish she would come and visit more. I do feel isolated out here all by myself and I don't know anybody up here well enough to fully and 100% depend on them. I guess you can never really find that in someone you are not related to. I still try to find it though.

Well, I am sick as a dog with a cold/fever that won't quit so I'm going to go Mucinex myself until I taste blood.

Oh btw, I'm the She-wolf in the closet.

Friend Rape!

WCSU feels like home. Not home, like hometown comfort home, but just home. I am enjoying my classes a lot and the people I've started to grow and attach to. I did not think I would nestle in so easily but the people in the theater department are like family. I expected to come into this theater program and meet a bunch of fairy guys and diva chicks, but it is quite the contrary. There is not one person who I can say that I do not like in one way or another. Everybody is supportive of one another and helpful. They are not the type of people to sabotage others for their own gain, which is strange for people in this kind of business, but I guess the better type of person you are, the better treatment and respect you will receive back!

This girl Kaitie, who plays Bobbi, the character I am understudying, is sincerely pecan pie, or Sally Creamcheese...because she is such a damn peach! She is just such a genuine type of person that I couldn't resist loving her.

Then, we have Paige...there have been close friends of mine, who I had had a lot in common with in the past, but with Paige, it's scary. Honestly, one would have thought Paige and I had known each other for decades. We are devious little bitches, who love a good investment piece of clothing, but are carelessly judgmental of all who come in our path. We have sailor mouths and essentially have lead parallel lives. It's actually quite frightening!

Then come the boys, who I already feel a kinship with. As cheesy as it sounds, it's true. The first night I met Conor, I could already sniff out that he had the same odd sense of humor as I do. Sean is simply the coolest and nicest guy I've probably ever met, seriously, he is the most hospitable person I have yet to come in contact with. For Sean, it just seems like he is not out for personal gain when it comes to friendships, he is just so giving and chill about everything. Adam or "Scobo" is pretty damn cool I guess. For the first few weeks I seriously thought he did not like me at all, because we would be in the same room and like glance at me and then not say anything. However, we somehow figured out that we are both cursed with a massive love for comedy and straight up weirdness that it all fell together. It's weird because even though him and I aren't personally that close as friends yet, he just feels like a brother. And Mike, who is Sean's room mate, is a fucking riot too. Honestly when I first met Mike, he reminded me of that youtube video about Bro-rape...but, knowing me, that only makes me like people more for their silliness. Then there is Chris, who is actually one of the older guys in the department, who is married and has a kid, but something about his personality reminds me a shitload of Garrett.

Obviously, there are other chicks and dicks who I have become close to as well. These are just to name a few. I am really glad I decided against being a hermit and got to know these people. At first, I thought of the program as just a unit of people I did not know and I originally almost shut myself off because I thought I was going to hate on everyone. It's the exact opposite. There always comes a time when change is needed and new people need to become part of your life, because there so much more out there than just a small ass town. Essentially, I was super-surprised to be deep-throated with new amazing people!

Cheers to being bro-raped?

New Chapters

It's the beginning of my 3rd week at Western CT State University as a transfer student. I do love it here. It's a bit lonely at times because I live 20 minutes away from school in an apartment (alone) by a beautiful lake. I sort of wish I could enjoy it with somebody, but I am also a hog of my alone time.

I tried out for the theater department's musical City of Angels and got a part in, not only the ensemble, but I am also the understudy for Bobbi. I do not really know what Bobbi is all about yet, however I have to be at every one of her rehearsals. I kind of feel honored that they trust me enough with an understudy part, but at the same time, I am second best to the girl who actually got it. It's cool that they were thinking of me though. I must say I was pleasently surprised.

I've also started to write a book. It is actually my second that I have written so far. My first book was a memoir of my high school days, very comedic, very silly. However, I have started to write a fiction book. The character Leigh is basically the novel version of me. She is me and my laid-back, more serious side of my personality. The story line is that Leigh is blessed/cursed with her past lives coming back to haunt her. She has dreams and visions of her past lives and she is doomed to repeat mistakes she made even in ancient Egyptian times, as part of a harem of wives to Pharaoh Ramesses II. Then, again as a daughter of a farmer during the Salem witch trials. She is always repeating the same mistake, getting involved with the unattainable and therefore, getting punished for these things one way or another. It is not only in her nature, but her destiny.

So essentially, Leigh is living in present times and gets involved with somebody, who she is not supposed to be involved with. Her soul picks bodies and minds that are capable of causing this havoc, even though it desperately tries to go a different way. I have only written about 3 chapters so far. If anybody is interested in reading the rough copy in their spare time, just holla and I will send.

I have yet to find anybody here that understands and 100% gets me. That is not to say I am hard to understand or mysterious, because I am not, but I can't really deal with giggly girls and flirting with bro-rape type guys. I have met one person who is pretty damn cool, who I like to call Steg. He seems like he will stay a good friend for a long time...he is solid.

Other than that, I have established myself as clumsy, but fearless within the theater department. I am silly, but serious and whacky, but laid back. Essentially, I am not letting my own quirks and mistakes get to me, because this is who I am and I cannot really runaway from that.

I do miss my closest friends. I miss the constant banter between Merri and I. I miss the adventures that occur when Marisa and I seem to commence. I miss my sisters and our bashing sessions. I miss the silliness and smiles that happen when I'm around Zoe. We all know I am yearning for a night in the Barnacle with Garrett and needing to talk about his or my slays. I miss Fat Cat with Kristen. I sorely miss my jam sessions with Chris that lead to lack-of-sleep laughter sessions. I miss cooking with Sauerberg. I miss Geoff Byrne's homo-ness. I super miss the O'Neal sisters and hanging out by the pool with them. I miss Alive @ 5 with all of them. This summer was all I wanted it to be due to my friends and my turning 21.

Hopefully, I will find some life-longs here. I know I will, but for now, I am content and happy with all of them.

Cheers to the everlasting kinship! *clink*

Catalyst

Ever notice how you never notice change? Have you ever looked back at pics from not even 5 years ago and you are just baffled by, not only the physical changes in yourself, but of the place you were in in life? You can never notice the crazy changes in daily life. Looking in the mirror every day grows to be a bias opinion of yourself. Having mirrors in your presence since birth becomes the catalyst of why we never notice physical change. Looking at old pictures is obviously the drug to nostalgia, but I look at my pictures from early high school days and such and realize how much I've changed both mentally and physically, but I still feel like the same strange person I was back then. Yes, I had pink hair and wore kilts with safety pins and spike bracelets, but inside I feel like the same person, just evolved, in all aspects, including my clothing style (Thank God).

When I do reflect and look back, I do realize those pivotal moments when my brain wrinkles with new ideas and becomes the catalyst for mental and spiritual changes. I remember those catalysts very well. Most of them were people. Even if they were in my life for 12 seconds, who knows if they actually did change it.

Then I wonder, if I have been a catalyst to people's lives changing. I would have to be. I do have best friends and family to think about. However, I think about who Merri would be today if we had never met. Would she have gone on living her life in Darien and not moved to New Canaan? Would her parents maybe still be married? What if I was a catalyst to a catalyst to her family's demise? What if my constant lecturing and nit-picking over Merri caused her to fall into that deep depression she was drowning in back in our adolescence? What would have happened if I did not pick up the phone after our big fight in 6th grade and decided to never talk to her again? I guess I should not reflect on the "what if"'s but it is so strange to think of our little decisions as life changing.

Then there is Marisa. Would she be better off without me in her life? We have known each other for about two years and we have both evolved quite nicely I would say. I take her innocent demeanor into consideration and attempt quieting down my asshole-attitude and my crazy weirdness gets infused into her light-hearted self. However, would she be better off without my quirks and loose-bolts influencing her romantic life? What works for one person may not be the answer to another. Perhaps she is destined for something bigger than I could even fathom for my life. Or maybe vise versa? She gets hung up on certain boys the way I did back in middle school. Curse or blessing? On one hand I wish I could get hung up on anybody the same way I did with Charlie, but when it is unrequited, that shit hurts. I admit to getting my hopes up about some people, but I never quite reach the point of getting hung up on anyone anymore. I kind of want it to hit me one day. Just have a conversation with someone and it almost slaps me in the face.

Now Zoe, what good have I done her? HAHA! Seriously, a 5 year age difference at this time in our lives may as well be a 10 year difference. She is still in high school and I am wondering where my chosen profession is going to take me. She is virgin territory...but then what does that make me...damaged goods? At least I'm still "goods"? If I never worked at that Theater camp, where we met, not only would I have not met her, but I would not have met Marisa. Who would I have spent 50% of my time with? Is my 21 year old lifestyle influencing Zoe to grow up too fast? That is the last thing I want to deprive her of. As painful as being a young teen was, it only prepared me to be a good person. Yes, I can be a huge dick, but deep down I love very deeply when I let myself. Have I provided a disservice to her in anyway? Have I stripped her of any expectations about love with my bitterness? I hope she knows that my advice is just my stand on everything and my experiences. Shitty happenstances like I have had may not come her way. Without shitty happenstances, there would not be wonderful ones though. There is a silver lining...always.

What benefits have I lent to Garrett. For years, I have been every body's therapist or go-to girl when they need me. I never really had my own until Garrett. Does he fucking hate me for that sometimes? I know he probably hates that yet another person relies on him. He is yet another product of "what if I never.."'s. If I had never became friends with Trish back in 8th grade, I would have never met her younger brother Matt, who became a good friend, and if I had never met Matty than Garrett would have remained the blond boy who was on my bus in elementary school. I see Garrett as a blessing and a curse, as well. On one hand, I found everything I needed in a person at the exact right time that I needed it. However, the curse part is that now I am so attached and so reliant on him, that I fear a letdown is hiding in the mist. Perhaps I put him on a pedestal? The words I never want to hear out of any male again (or even female friends), who have let me down, are the empty, "I'm so sorry"'s, I'm so fucking sick of those. How's about you don't do anything to be sorry about? But, seriously, what benefits have I lent to Garrett? Have I been so busy taking so much from this friendship that I've forgotten to give back?

Well, if there is any doubt in any one of these four people's bones about me not loving them, they can go suck a nut! I just hope I have not done anybody wrong. Perhaps they do not know I have done them wrong, and neither do I, but either way, inevitably, they would be in different places or phases in life without me. I'm glad they've all risked something that may have turned out better to be loves of my life. WOW, this all sounds very insecure of me to explain. Really, I'm just babbling...

Here's to being a catalyst!!!!

Cheers, bitch!

Sex Sells.

Okay, so somedays I really feel like I am a poor excuse for my sex. While on the outside I may appear somewhat attractive, as if I care about my appearance like my hair, skin, eyes, body, lips, clothes etc., I could really give a shit...it's all decoration. What I am really thinking is how much I wanna go home and make fart jokes with my sister and walk around in a sports bra and gym shorts.

While people take these beautiful pictures of themselves for facebook, or whatever reason, everytime I post a "pretty" picture of myself, I think, "Wow, is this anywhere close to my real personality? DOes this really reflect who I am?" Not that it should matter, right? It's just facebook and I never really gave a shit what people thought so I don't know. But we post pictures of ourselves that we consider to be our best pictures (for the default) because that is what we want people to see when they click onto our profile. Why do I care though? I huddle deep down into myself and realize the subjects and quirks I would like people to know about me, and it has absolutely nothing to do with my appearance. I do not give a shit if people think I am pretty or not. I think I would rather somebody think I am funny and interesting.

I decorate my face and my body so that I can draw people in so that they will want to talk to me so I can make somebody interested rather than just attracted. I love making new friends. That really is all it is. I am not out hunting for a relationship or anything serious, besides acquaintance-ship or a new friendship. Underneath all of it, though, I would love to sit back, drink some beers, watch House in my underwear and dick around with my sisters and friends.

People are so damn worried about looking proper and professional, just chill out. Underneath that, people just want to go home and take the stick out of their ass, pass their gas and be a dick. Seriously, when I go home at the end of the day and my sister is their just chilling, we enjoy a glass of wine and ripping people apart on our own time. That is how it is. Most girls want to do the same, but won't let themselves because they have to keep up with their outward appearances. Fuck it all! Just be the person you are. If you are a fucking dick, then it is better to be honest about it than to put on that fake smile and pretend like you enjoy the company you are in.

I honestly do not know what I am trying to say here. I guess I am a bit of a hypocrite because I do dress up my body and I do have "pretty" facebook pictures, but for anybody who really does know me, knows that I am way more than my facebook profile. I am way more than my clothes and my jewelry. My personality and humor is a way more gorgeous thing than the make-up upon my face and the hair a-top my head. I am shallow a lot, but I do go quite deep when the moment strikes, but most people are. I can be polite and sweet, but at other times I can be worse than a drunken frat boy. I really am my own huge contradiction, but if their is anything I cannot contradict, it would be my loyalty to the people I love. That is why I love to collect friendships so that I can share myself with good people. How do you create a friendship? Attraction. Primal and the basis of evolution. Looks. Smell. Touch. Taste. Sound. All senses make up what we think is attractive.

I know if I see somebody who I think is gorgeous, that is what compels me to want to talk to them. If and when I do talk to them, they better have a killer personality to follow otherwise, the interest dwindles and I lather, rinse, repeat.

Personality honestly is the most important thing in a friend or acquaintance because that is what keeps you coming back for more. Honesty, even if they are huge dicks, is better than having a synthetic personality. Decoding that honesty is harder, but that is when instincts need to kick in.

So, when I say I am somewhat a disgrace to my sex, perhaps again, it just all comes down to one phrase, "I just don't care," and a woman's nature is to care. Yes, I decorate myself, but I would rather people just come up and ask me about myself. I am a way prettier person on the inside than I am on the outside. I think that is saying a lot too, because I'm not too shabby. I don't even know if that is old fashioned, or something, but this day in age, sex sells.

Mini-me?

Yesterday, i talked about how amazing three of my best friends were, especially in their endeavors for love. Meredith is wary, but still very hopeful for the real thing.  Marisa has undying faith towards it, and Garrett is a game player as of now, but believes one day he will find his perfect mate.  However, I forgot a very specific piece of the puzzle when I forgot to mention Zoe. 

Young love.  Ouch, right?  Remember as an adolescent how important it was to find something to grasp onto? Zoe is approximately 5 years younger than I am, but pretty damn smart.  Five years younger would make her 16 years old.  Like Miley Cyrus, who needs to be drop-kicked in the face, in my opinion.  However, we read about Miley Cyrus and her relationships with boys, like Nick Jonas, and she talks about being in love with him.  Then we puke.  I, personally, think to myself, "You barely have pubes and you're in love?" However, I have begun to reflect back to that age when my hormones and my pants replaced the job my brain was supposed to do and I realize that 16 is totally the age you start to fall for people legitimately.  Now, I never said the chosen love interest is a good or smart choice, but still, it is definitely possible. 

My first love was Charlie.  Meredith was the only of of my friends to experience this time of my life.  I was 14 years old, awkward and borderline unattractive at this point.  My frizzy hair had pink dye in it.  I wore spike bracelets and had braces.  There was food most likely in those braces, as well. I still had some baby fat and huge boobs.  Actually, awkward does not even begin to describe.  

Charlie was a God in my eyes.  He was 17 years old, a senior at my high school, and wanted by every freshman girl (like me) within marching band.  Yeah, I know, it just keeps getting better. He was tan, tall, dark eyes, dirty brown hair, Greek-God's body, and Dartmouth-accepted.  Everything radiated gold when near him.  His smile was straight and white when he talked to me.  On the rare occasion that he did talk to me, it was like music.  i would try to talk back but I could not bring words to my tongue for I would constantly be distracted by his dimples.

On top, of being close to perfect, he was a kind soul and would probably do anything for the people he cared about.  I desperately wanted to be one of those people.  If he was absent one day and I was wearing a cute outfit, I would wear it again the next day.  Psycho or silly?  Perhaps both?  

Charlie was perhaps the only Love-at-first-sight I have ever experienced.  I, generally, do not believe in fables of Romeo and Juliet.  I wish I did.  However, rationality slaps me in the face every time my mind wanders towards such things, but I was 14-years old, and I was a pretty shade of green back then.  The moment I saw him, I was magnetized and drawn.  Moth, meet Flame, you will never leave Flame alone now.  It was like I couldn't NOT talk to him.  Every chance I got to speak (or stutter) to him, I would.  I would bring a bag of starbursts to school at least three times a week just to offer some to him.  I would buy him cookies at lunch.  Sit close by him outside during lunch period.  Put my backpack right next to his in band  so that when he went to get it after band was over, he may or may not accidently touch mine.  When I was cold at the football games we had to march and play at, I would steal his hat and/or jacket.  My stomach never felt butterflies.  It was closer to feeling pterodactyls and WWII aeroplanes.  I would give anything to feel that way again about anybody.  It was an unexplainable feeling that I have not felt about anybody else to this day.

Charlie and I grew to be more than acquaintances over the first few weeks of school.  The Homecoming dance was a monumental day that started the rest of my love life.  I bought the most hideous outfit for such an event.  Anyone will vouch for how heinous it was.  I wanted so bad to be different from my peers.  This outfit was disgusting.  A creme-colored lace top with flowy, angel sleeves and a silk green skirt.  Doesn't sound that bad right?  It hugged my body all wrong.  Plus, I forgot to buy shoes for it, so I resorted to a pair of blue, faux-denim, platforms from Payless.  I had also straightened my hair and put half of it back and the hairs above my ears were straight but frizzed outward.  I looked like nothing you would want to dance with at Homecoming.

I get to my Homecoming dance with my friend Melissa and we put our coats in the health room by the gym where the dance was being held.  I auto-spot Charlie in a white, button-down and black pants.  DREAMY. He came over to me, which today I still wonder what attracted him to my heinousness, and asked me if I wanted to dance with him.  Did I want to dance with him? My whole body felt as if my bones were going to melt into pudding.  I managed to say yes and hugged him for some retarded reason and my friend Mike snapped a picture of us.  

I still have this picture, safe inside a box of treasures. 

I danced with my friends for about an hour on the dance floor, scanning the gymnasium for my beloved. My fucking retarded shoes I chose to wear were now digging into my ankles from sole up. I had to sit down.  When my flat ass hit the bleacher, I see a dark profile, of what seemed to be Charlie, offer me a hand to dance.  Suddenly, my feet lacked any sort of pain as I got up and spun around the floor with Prince Charming.  Of course, "Hot in Herr," is not the first choice of song to dance with royalty to, but it did the job.  Our bodies touched, and it was like the pterodactyls in my stomach morphed like Pokemon into their next phase.  My naughty bits were on fire, and his were not at 6 o'clock either.  I wonder to this day, how I did such a thing and at the same time looked like I fell in a retard's closet.

The song whizzed by and changed to a slower song.  He took my right hand into his left and laced it ever-so gently as he slid his right hand to my waste and my left somehow ended up around his neck.  Something was stirring inside of me, but I could not decode this feeling .  I had never been this close to someone I ever had feelings for.  Probably because I had never had real feelings like this toward anybody, being such a youngin.  I could not help but stare into his chocolate eyes the entire time.  The streamers around the gym turned into silk ribbons in the wind and the people around me disappeared.  Surealism does not even come close to that experience.  All of this was newborn and brand-spankin'-new.  When the song finished, he leaned toward me and I thought he meant to kiss my cheek, but he was going for my lips.  Awkwardly, he hit the right corner of my mouth and kissed it for a good 6 seconds.  I thought I was inside a chamber of cold fire.  He unlaced his fingers and walked away to go get a drink, looking back at me a couple times.  I was frozen inside this fire.  My first kiss was barely a legitimate kiss on the lips, but to this day, I have never felt anything like that.

Later on that month, I heard on good authority that Charlie was drunk at this Homecoming dance, where he kissed me.  I did not know whether to be mad or confused.  Nothing had changed within our friendship.  Perhaps he did not remember he kissed me.  Freshman year was almost 8 years ago for me and that kiss is probably my most vivid and possibly my favorite memory from high school.  He has no idea, to this day, what I felt for him.  He definitely assumed I had a crush on him, little did he know he was the unrequited love of my life.  Painful and wonderful it was indeed. 

When he graduated high school in 2003, I gave him a little bear with a "Congrats" on it.  Hopeless romantic.  I know.  Back then I was, at least.  If there was anybody I ever wanted to really be with, it was Charlie.  

After he graduated, for the next 7 years, I would rarely see him.  Maybe on Thanksgiving at the big football game.  He would give me a hug and ash from the cold fire would be swished around.  Even when I was with my boyfriend at the time, the embers still got kicked up.  

The last time I saw him was at the Thanksgiving game in 2008.  He was with his family and he gave me a hug.  I could feel my smile through my ears.

So when I mention young love and adolescence, I would just gladly like to say, I have been there, done that.  One can certainly feel the sting of love at such a young age.  I think being so naive makes the cold fire that much more potent.  I am glad to have felt it at least once in my life.  If I never feel it again, I will be okay with that.

I love Zoe's wisdom at such a young age.  However, I wonder if she has ever felt the frozen fire.  I was so much greener at that age than she is, so it makes me wonder if she would ever know what I was talking about.  That fire changed me.  To know I may never find it again does not mean I will give up on it.  I hope Zoe stays green for a while longer until she needs to use her head.  That feeling was ancient and almost primal and the older and wiser we get, the duller the icy flames get.  

I raise my wine glass to young love and the frost-bitten burns I have from it.

Cheers, mother fucker!

Dana, The Platypus

How do I start to describe my life and I?  Ever heard that song "One Hand in My Pocket" by Alanis Morrisette?  Read these lyrics.  If there is one song that describes everything that I am...it would be this...

I'm broke but I'm happy
I'm poor but I'm kind
I'm short but I'm healthy, yeah
I'm high but I'm grounded
I'm sane but I'm overwhelmed
I'm lost but I'm hopeful baby
What it all comes down to
Is that everything's gonna be fine fine fine
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is giving a high five
I feel drunk but I'm sober
I'm young and I'm underpaid
I'm tired but I'm working, yeah
I care but I'm restless
I'm here but I'm really gone
I'm wrong and I'm sorry baby (this especially is me)

What it all comes down to
Is that everything's gonna be quite alright
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is flicking a cigarette
And what it all comes down to
Is that I haven't got it all figured out just yet
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is giving the peace sign
I'm free but I'm focused
I'm green but I'm wise
I'm hard but I'm friendly baby
I'm sad but I'm laughing
I'm brave but I'm chickenshit
I'm sick but I'm pretty baby

And what it all boils down to
Is that no one's really got it figured out just yet
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is playing the piano
And what it all comes down to my friends
Is that everything's just fine fine fine
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is hailing a taxi cab

Essentially, I've decided to start writing a blog because I have way too much to say and writing with just my right hand is too slow and I forget all of the things I wanted to say.  I'm Dana, or Danny, depends on what you prefer.  I am everything in that song (aide from flicking a cigarette).  I am my own contradictions.  I don't really know what to believe in, yet.  I am trying to find it. It's funny because I know exactly who I am, or I at least have the gist of it, but I'm still finding things out.  I do not know it all, and as hard as that is for a 21 year old to admit, it's true. It's hard too really fully grasp that one can be as neutral as I am, but it does occur in nature.  I don't know exactly where, but I guess a platypus is a good example.  It's a mammal, but it lays eggs.  How did that one get by God?  Did one of his little workers (comparing him to Santa Claus) make the platypus and God was just tired when he approved it?  Either way, a platypus is unique in a beautiful and strange way.  I guess you never really know what to make of such a creature because it's so strange and cool at the same time that you just accept it for what it is.  I'm definitely strange, maybe cool, hopefully beautiful and I know I'm pretty damn unique.  So does that make me a platypus? Figuratively? Probably.  Great, I'm a platypus.

I would like to say that I have one thing in my life that is super-duper important and above all the rest...but, in reality, everything around me is important.  All of the little things and the little influences have a say in the bigger things. My sisters and my best friends, who I am pretty sure are my legitimate soul mates, have done everything to keep me believing in real love.  Without them, I have no idea what I would believe in at this point.

As a little girl/ bitch-in-training, I believed in fairy tales to no end.  I was convinced that one day a prince would come and swoop me off my feet.  I was much younger than my two sisters, so while I played "Charming Prince saves Princess from evil-doers" my sisters were out playing "the game", so to speak.  I was the youngest girl in the family, always the damsel-in-distress.

Fast-forward to high school in Fairfield County, CT, where being a "platypus" in a pond of geese and swans, was interesting, to say the least.  I found solace in music and painting mostly.  That was my niche.  I rarely dated anybody in high school, because nobody really shook me.  Towards the end of high school I dated somebody for a while, who changed the damsel-in-distress/ fairy tale dream i once had.  i don't know if that was a blessing or a curse, but either way, I accept it with open arms.  However, I did not become a pretentious hipster or dickweed, who cannot talk about anything else besides bad indie music and my lack of deodorant. On the outside, I look like a normal human with eclectic choices in clothing, on the inside, I just enjoy my own personal world of wanderlust and color. 

So..."love"...is that the topic I have stumbled upon as my first ponder-ance? Wow, can i be more_______...well someone fill in the blank?  Lame? Silly? Hopeful?

I believe in love more than I let people perceive. Mostly because I have experienced many types of it already, and I am still very young, and in a lot of ways, naive. I have experienced unrequited love.  That shit hurts.  I tasted real-ationship love, mutual and romantic, the kind where both parties would do anything for. I have experienced unconditional love, due to my close family, which I must say is still my favorite. However, my close second is the love I get from my best friends/ soulmates.  I don't know what you would call that kind of love, it borders with unconditional and real-ationship.  Well, technically, it is a relationship, and in some cases, it really can become unconditional.

After my first real-ationship love ended abruptly, I cut myself off, not knowing how it would effect me in the future.  I stopped opening towards the guys I dated, and most of them turned out to be fleeting interests anyway.  Nothing hooked me back into trying a real-ationship again.  Single-life had me by my frizzy hair and I took it and rode it like the wind!

Time has healed me, but time can only take you so far without the knowledge and advice of wise people around you.  There are some who do not tell you what to do, but who have showed you what not to do (or date) like my oldest sister.  That was an odd way to give her a compliment, but at least her years she spent dating (for lack of better words) losers and dicks did not completely go to waste. 

Then, there are the soulmates.  If there are 3 people, I can really thank for keeping my hopes up for a fairy tale ending, I have to hand it to Meredith, Marisa, and Garrett.  Meredith for her commitment to me.  We are our own type of love.  While both of us are completely straight, we are in love with one another.  We hate each other some days, and cannot be parted on some others. We get jealous when the other one finds a significant other and have opposing and conflicting ideas of a good relationship.  Deep down, we both know that the only lasting relationship we have both had (yet) is each other.  Together since 1995.  Our meet-cute: playground swings.  We've broken up a few times in between due to... immaturity and angst.  There was even some bloodshed, but we won't get into that.

Marisa needs to be commended for her undying efforts to find the real thing.  She has faith in people, who on some levels, do not deserve her faith in them. We trade off our ideas on the opposite sex.  I say, it's all about games and intrigue (at least at this age) and she believes a bit more in fate.  Which I must say, it is rubbing off on me a bit, and I'm positive I have rubbed off on her. The girl doesn't give up! DON'T STOP!!! BELIEVING!!!!

And Garrett. Dear lord, there is way too much to be said about Garrett.  Garrett is living proof that there are men out there who are not only beautiful, but true and worthy.  I usually do not have this much passion about one human being, let alone a dude. I dug through my soul and my heart to try and figure out if I was actually in love with Garrett, but as it turns out, I am not.  Somedays, I wish I was, just so that I could decode and name the kind of love I have for him.  It really is unexplainable.  Perhaps this is what having a brother feels like?  It was not until he left for the Navy, when I could not call him or talk to him everyday, like I normally did, that I realized he felt like more than a friend, but not anything like a boyfriend.  So what does a platypus do when she finds someone who is worth it but isn't in love with him?  Discover a hybrid of that love. It works for me.  I think it's quite amazing that I channeled something like this.

Put that in your juicebox and suck it.  I have lots of types of love in my life, some of which cannot be named or explained.  I am an Alanis Morrisette song.  I am a platypus.  I am possibly insane. Wait, no...I'm sane, but I'm overwhelmed.

Until next time, stay classy!

(who am I talking to?)