Third Person @ MindSay 
new person
1. Next person you'll kiss: HIM
2. Next movie you want to see: IN THEATRE? HMM. I DUNNO.
3. Next person you want to go out with: SAME A #1
5. Next time you're going out: TOMORROW, FOR SCHOOL.
6. Next place you'll take vacation: CALIFORNIA, HOPEFULLY.
7. Next thing you are going to do after filling this survey out: READ SCIENCE CHAPTER
8. Next thing you are going to eat: UM. FOR DINNER WE'RE HAVING, EGGS, RICE, BEANS, AND FRIED TORTILLAS.
9. Next time you plan to be drunk: HMM... LOL, I DUNNO. MY 21ST BDAY!?
10. Next thing you are going to do outside: AVOID SNOW... :P
11. Next person you'd like to see fill this out: YOU!
LASTS:
1. Last kiss: UMM. MY DAD. WHEN HE LEFT.
2. Last person you hugged: UMM... MY ASSISTANT TEACHER.
3. Last person you spoke to: MY DAD.
4. Last alcoholic beverage: CHAMPAGNE DURING NEW YEAR. HEEHEE. LOTS OF IT!
6. Last movie: JOHN TUCKER MUST DIE
7. Last person you thought of: randomrhythmman
8. Last school you went to: MY SCHOOL YESTERDAY.
9. Last person you said I love you to: *giggle*
10. Last run in with the Law: I DUNNO...
11. Last fight you were in: WITH SOME "FRIENDS" AT SCHOOL
12. Last bar/club/concert/party you went to: BAR? NO. CLUB? NO. CONCERT? JOHN MAYER!!! PARTY? MY SISTERS.
13. Last person you IMed: MARIA
14. Last thing you ate: GRILLED CHEESE
15. Last thing you saved up money for: CONTACTS...
FIRSTS:
1. First kiss: NOT YET... *BLUSH*
2. First true Love: him...
3. First heartbreak: NOT YET.
4. First car: HOPEFULLY A MINI COOPER
5. First pet: OUR FISH, NAMED BUTTHOLE (I THINK)
6. First computer: LAPTOP
7. First concert: JOHN MAYER/SHERYL CROW/ MAT KEARNEY
8. First alcoholic beverage: UM. A SIP OF SOME KIND OF SOMETHING.
9. First time you stayed out all night: I DUNNO
10. First best friend: CHELSEA
11. First job: DOG WALKING
12. First school: MY SCHOOL
13. First movie you watched in a theater: I DO NOT KNOW AT ALL
14. First thing you really saved up money for: MY HAIR TO GET DYED. IT NEVER HAPPENED THOUGH... GRR. *COUGH* MY MOM'S FAULT *COUGH*
She also dances in the kitchen and discourses with the fruit bowl, holds conversations peppered with song and frequent bursts of unbridled laughter, smiles at strangers and befriends waiters, and walks with a limp to remind her the costs of being too competitive and that her warrior cry of but I'm a delicate flower deludes no one.
But it was worth it. Her team won. Besides, the foot doesn't hurt as much as it did yesterday. A temporary pain for such an honorable gain.
She has come to the conclusion that she enjoys her life. It isn't, perhaps, the life she once envisioned. But the wanderlust has settled into hibernation and without it roaring in her ears, she is startled to discover that she has a productive and fulfilling life. Which seems to ever be increasing, step by step, inch by inch, until she looks back and wonders how she ever began this journey. Yes, it's a happy, thrilling, fascinating journey. For the moment. But she knows that it is still a season of preparation. For what, she knows not. She must merely be content in the knowledge that she is being prepared for something.
She is amazed to discover that most people associate her with music and laughter. She doesn't think she laughs more than anyone else, nor does she believe she has anything above an ordinary level of musical ability. Yet there are those who aspire to have her talents. Who tell her that she warms their hearts when she bursts into laughter. The why-fors cause her much puzzlement. How could mere laughter cause a hurting heart to open and gasp in desperation for healing? And, moreover, why would this heart assume the answer lies in the bearer of such joy?
But she is learning to stop asking so many questions, to stop denying and avoiding, and to merely be herself (a person not so fearful and horrible as once believed).
Furthermore, she loves where she lives. There's something so magical about residing in a place that provides a morning blizzard and covers the world in a thick, icy, white blanket of snow, but by the afternoon the sun is beaming down on this crystal world, clearing streets and warming the land. Yes, she loves living in a place that two days after a foot of snow will boast a temperature in the near-seventies.
She thinks one day she will be known for her words. Not right now, of course. No, she is still in Preparation. There are still many experiences and life lessons to be discovered before she will be able to take her flights of fancy seriously. Or make anyone else take them seriously. But, she decides, it isn't exactly normal for a person to conceive entire story ideas from what one might consider thin air. One day, perhaps, they will not be merely ideas. One day.
She also realizes that she has been lax in blogging (and keeping up with the blogosphere). She does not apologize. She is tired of apologizing. She apologizes too much, she thinks. Besides, she doesn't think she needs to apologize for living a full life and focusing her energy and attention on living that life.
Yes.
Some things are better lived than said.
More judgment....
As I sit here in someone elses house on someone elses computer, I can't help thinking, this person is great, and deserves so much better than this.
The integrity, compassion, dignity, and self-persiption of a person should not be treated with disrespt.
It is who they are, and they may not choose to be that way.
But they are. So why do so many of the onlookers pass a sentence of judgmental discrepincy when it only adds up the their predicion? To what they want it to be. They mold you, mangle you into a label, a box which they can scan you over in.
If you are to different, sorry, "NEXT."
Sorry, thats fucking pathetic and igotistic. It disgusts me. Truely and deeply.
You think you know a person so well, then they pick up old habits, or start new things, or just try something different, just for the hell of saying "Hey, I did that once....."
Then yor onlookers freak out and are rescaning to see if the missed that little gigga byte of information on you.
No, I didnt miss anything, so why are you so differnet?
Im not.
Same person, same smile.
Same person, same eyes.
Same person, differnt look.
Same person, differnt tastes.
Same person, old habits.
Same person, new habits.
Same person through out the mind, body and soul. But.....yet again, they reject you. Funny how that works isnt it? But you say thats life, right?
Wrong.
Your life, your body, you mind, your soul, your desicions. You are your toughest critic. You are your own dictator. You are your own person.
YOU ARE YOU............dont let that slip.
dont look for the awnsers, let them come to you.
dont look for the meening, let it find you.
I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.
I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.
I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.
I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.
I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.
Repost this if you believe homophobia is wrong
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