We could have torn this whole world apart.

New Years. I've never been one for resolutions. I suppose the rambling that will follow isn't a resolution so I don't know what it's importance is since it seems there is nothing I can do to change the final outcome now. I guess I just need to attempt to get this off my chest. If there was any way possible to become friends with her again I would do whatever was requested without a moment's hesitation. I know I screwed up and looking back it now becomes evident it was way worse than I had hoped. She was my best friend and those kinds of people are rare to come by and honestly I don't think I've ever felt so idiotic and regretful that I took that for granted. I'll admit all my wrongdoings for one final time I suppose. I went along with other people's joking toward her not really realizing what I was doing. I agreed with others and sometimes was the initiator of the rude crude comments made behind her back. That was childish of me. I shall relinquish the blame I placed on another friend for starting drama between my former best friend and I. Maybe one day my former bff will look back and see parts of that, but as I said I'm taking all the blame from now on. I know I become jealous and hurt when I feel like I'm not as close with someone as I used to be especially if I feel that someone else is imposing. When I feel betrayed I can't help but to take it out on my bff and try to not show my sadness and jealous emotions. It is wrong for me to cover how I really feel and now I know that more than ever. I shouldn't hide things from my best friends even if I am ashamed of them, even if I feel that it is easier to lie. Secrets tear friendships apart. I miss her so much. I'm not as angry as I am upset. I feel I've lost something I can't ever replace. I would lie if I said the thought of not having her around has not caused pain. Sometimes I guess it is true you don't realize what you have until it's gone. If tears could her bring her back, she'd be here by now. I would vow to her to change everything and become a better friend. I'll take all the blame. But what saddens me the most is that I truly feel it is too late. I feel like there is no hope left and for only the second time in my life I feel helpless. I know she's angry. She has every right to be. I just wish she'd let me try to be better. I was trying the few weeks before our collapse of sorts, but I feel that maybe I wasn't trying hard enough. I need her. She's the only one I can imagine with me at concerts. She's the only one that gets my weird musical jokes. She was the only friend I ever felt I could be myself 100% around. Too bad I wasn't. I owed her that at least. She was one of the best friends I've ever had and I don't know what I'm going to do without her. I just wish she knew I was sorry. Truly sorry. For everything.

Have you ever been experienced? Well, I have. Let me prove it to you.

Oui en effet it ete un tout a fait certain temps. I suppose it is only right to provide updates on my recent and not so recent happenings. Dance: We performed a small little number at Amazement Square sometime in November and walked around in our costumes for a breakfast with Santa event beforehand. When performance time came all that was virtually left of the crowd were vendors and employees and a few parents. Not much to speak of at all, but what can you do? So we did our thing and that was that. It was very disappointing to say the least and it made me very anxious about how the turnout would be for the big thing. But when that time came I was pleasantly surprised. Not bad for hillbilly Bedford if I must say so myself. December 8 was our recital and it was crazy! It felt like it came upon me so fast I didn't have time to think. The rehearsal the night before was fine except for the Santa costume malfunctions, but the rehearsal isn't what really matters I suppose. So to the big show, I started out on the stage as Fritz for my dance with Clara and the guest children and that may have been the most exciting part. There was just something about it- little comments exchanged behind the curtains and then as soon as the music reaches our ears its like a whole different world. It was such an ego boost to be on the stage as the curtains open to be who the audience sees first, even if your part isn't the lead. That dance went well except for my absolutely hideous tour jete. No one I talked to afterwards claimed to even notice, but I did and it killed me!!! Nutcracker finale came and went without a flaw, so I felt better after that. LeeAnne informed the snowflakes rehearsal night that our dance was the best, and without seeing the other dances recital night, I can comfortably say I have a feeling it was spell bounding then too! And by the way, during the show, some former ensemble members and other friends had come to see the show. Since they had experience on the stage they knew the one place that the performers can actually see people through the lights- the balcony. It added a little more nervousness for some reason to clearly see faces of those you know especially since two of those friends are dancers themselves! But anyway, second act. Our tap dance went fine except for the fact that two of the five girls slipped in the kick line and stopped with a few kicks left to go, so another girl thought she messed up and quit kicking. Thank goodness there were only two kicks left where me and another girl kept kicking. There is that moment of panic when something unexpected happens on stage and I was like what do i do? But we were told that it looked like it was meant to happen in that fashion, so that was comforting. Then came my role as Santa. I have very much pride in that dance because it's me and my two teachers. It's both a relief and a disappointment to be hidden behind Santa get-up. I do believe that was the most trying dance I've done thus far, purely because of the costume. Mainly because you have a certain way of moving and then it becomes hindered by the pillow in your suit and the beard, wig, and glasses that obstruct your view. That dance went well though. I was very happy and grossly sweaty. And then the finale which went very smoothly. I was very happy to get through the whole thing without my "stomach" to my knees or my wig falling off. Then last Wednesday we performed a few dances for an elementary school. I do believe I had more fun doing that than the big recital because of the reactions on those kids faces.(and no gross sweaty suffocating Santa costume! lol) They OHH and AHHH and add so much excitement-not to mention my tour jete was a bit better even though I ended up having to back up a little to align myself properly with Clara because the stage was so tiny. But in conclusion, I miss the ensemble thing. Sure I have my Saturdays and Sundays free again, but I still miss it. These past few months I feel I've grown as a dancer not only physically but mentally and I contribute a lot of that to ensemble. And I must add -I made a lot of connections and of course I'm all about that. I can't wait until next year for ensemble! I'm not sure it can get better that the amazing experience I've already had. But I dare say it's only up from here!

You're the type of guy to take home to Mom, if my momma was dead.

Little kids never cease to amaze. I just wish everyone could be as real as they are. Their pureness and sincerity is evident in everything they do. There is a little group in particular that I am referring to: my acrobatics class. I'll be honest. As far as people go... that's the class I look forward to the most. I should feel so awkward. I mean I'm sixteen and I'm just learning to do a cartwheel. These girls are half my age and should be laughing their asses off at me but instead they encourage. Every little success of mine is shared with all of them. On Friday, for the first time, I came up from a back bend on my knees by myself and was then enveloped in a group hug. It was the sweetest thing that has happened in a long time. Dance means... well everything to me and to know that I have made some great friends of all ages thrills me beyond compare. I mean it's odd. The whole dance studio situation is like a family in it's own. Like the mob without all the violence. The more people that I get to dance with, the more I feel included in the family. Hell, I think I'm finally a made member. And the other thing that fascinates me about these younger kids is the fact that they want to be there. Some girls in my older classes just don't seem to understand that it is a team effort. The four year olds can understand that. Why can't they? But anyway... I think that my dance teacher's mom is starting to see how much this all means to me and that's good because I see her as the toughest critic for some reason...but hey it's about time! I mean the flag should have gone up when I decided to better myself by taking two classes with kids half my age. (Best decision I have made in a long time) It just feels good to see that people are noticing. This is my life. My love. My passion. And one day, all these small triumphs will show their importance. Every day I inch closer to The Revolution Dance Studio is a day I throw myself into full heartily. I've found it. I've found me and damn it feels good.

My weakness is that I care too much.

I shall run the risk of sounding a bit hypocritical myself and blatantly profess my annoyance with a certain hypocrite. Why I am so concerned with the person, I shall never know I suppose. I was alerted the other night to her feelings in a little poem she read. As it progressed, I thought she was speaking about herself and so when it was completed I went over to talk to her and offer my listening ear and comfort if needed. When I asked who it had been about she seemed to get uncomfortable and didn't want to tell me. At that moment I felt like Desdemona when she realizes her beloved Othello is to kill her. Shit, it's about me I thought, but I kept pressuring in hopes that maybe I was wrong. Well as she leaves, in the most elementary school way possible, she turns around and says "it's about you." Reflecting back upon the poem, I still can't quite figure it out. I want a copy to analyze and view objectively or something. Tomorrow in the most non confrontational way possible I'm just going to act normal and sit beside her at lunch and ask to see it. I find it all very childish and egotistical of her. I mean I've viewed our situation objectively in the past and I know I've done wrong. I've admitted my mistakes though. And even if I hadn't patched things up then, I would still respect her. When I think of all the things I've done for her (words from her own mouth) I just become more appalled by this whole event. Further analysis points to the soul root of the problem- her lack of trust in me. One of my other friends has a nasty habit of saying that so and so said this and so and so said that. Nine times out of ten so and so didn't say shit. Well my friend chooses to believe this other person over me. About a month ago I made the choice to distance myself from the other friend in hopes of strengthening the friendship with the one I actually cared about. As I see now, some things will never change. Some people are too gullible and that's something I can't fix no matter how hard I want to try. All I can do at this point is either let go and save myself the worry or fight for a lost cause. I choose the latter because as Kanye West says " For me giving up's way harder than trying." And no matter what she thinks or what other people may tell her, no one seems to know my side, the side where I care. I know I may a bitch and a tough ass and whatever else, but I've never stabbed someone in the back by letting them down and I don't plan to start now. Even if she plans on me letting her down and she wants me to give up, it's not going to happen because I have my morals to live up to. So I guess I'm not a hypocrite after all.

We're aching inside, aching. Mistakes are waiting...

At the risk of seeming like a crybaby pussy, I have decided to record my spastic thoughts in this poor little neglected blog I call my own. I'm in the mood to talk purely about relationships at the moment so maybe if you're lucky and you know me and you read this you will find something about lil ole you. Now wouldn't that be fun??? Anyway.... so I spent the night at one of my friend's houses on Friday. I have not felt so uncomfortable and awkward in such a long time. It was like I had fucked someone over and had just been reconciled with my friend.(which I didn't that I know of) It was like I was an outsider to my two friends there. If I haven't exactly been there they should know I was there if they really needed me and besides it's not like I've had time to even think the past few months. It just sucks to feel you don't have friends. I have some great guy friends(I'll get back to that later) but it just sucks to not have girly connections you love to hate. To my guy friends now. The other day I was shaken up pretty badly and if it wasn't for that I wouldn't have realized how great some people are. To recreate the event... it's right before 4th period and I start crying again so I head to the bathroom to just get away. As I'm walking down the hall, my best friend (it's complicated) is coming down the hall. As soon as he sees me he stops talking to whomever he was with and comes to see what's wrong. I just like broke down and hugged him and like for the first time in months it was just like everything was okay again. I mean fuck, that kid just gets me and it's kind of surreal. I can't believe all this shit happened and I know I fucked up, but I never stopped caring and I knew he must still care some. Anyway, so he was nice to me in 4th and then this other guy came over to check on me and I made the comment to him about how I felt like I didn't have my friends anymore. And if you know this guy it'll help you understand... but since you probably don't... he just told me he was my friend and gave me his number and was like call me if you ever need to talk. And he wasn't hitting on me, he was my friend again. So last night at my party I tried to kind of fix things because I hate when things are fucked up because as little as I like to admit it...I need support. I need certain people and I kind of seem to need them now more than I used to. You'll never hear me say that again, but I did once and that should count for something. I guess we will just have to see how things go. One last thing... there's something about one of my guy friends-something is going to happen between us at some point if you know what I mean... it just seems inevitable. It kind of gives me the creeps, but I'm not getting into it because then people might know who I'm talking about... and we all know I love to keep people guessing.

The Pen Is Larger.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who fell head over heels for a little boy. But as I said, they were both little, and so she didn't completely understand what love was at that moment. All she knew was that she cared about him a lot. He was her best friend. She never told him her secrets, like the one where she wanted to grow up and marry him. She never told him she liked him "that way" because he was her best friend and even at her young age she didn't want to lose him by telling him that. After all, she never knew how he felt about her. She remembered the first day she met the boy. They were instant friends. The next three years were the best of her life, she had him with her. Then she found out he was moving to a different school. It was okay though, because his mommy was her teacher that year. The little boy invited her to his birthday that year, and she was the only girl. And damn, didn't she feel special. Every day, the little girl hoped the boy's daddy would bring him by his mommy's work, because when this happened, she got to spend time with him. And Fuck did she miss him. She plotted everyday with her best friend(he would end up moving to the same school her boy had moved to) about how they could get the boy back. She wanted to move schools so bad, but that never happened. As the school year ended, the little girl knew that her time with the boy was limited. One day, he came by the school and they played on the playground and she bloodied up her arm and it hurt like hell, but she kept playing because she didn't want to lose a single moment with the little boy. A few weeks later is the last time the little girl saw the little boy. She remembers every detail. He walked into the room, but his daddy said they weren't staying long. She just looked at him, just wishing everything could be how it used to be. She still regrets not hugging him, not doing something, anything. The girl misses the boy for a very long time. She doesn't know how to get him back, so he slowly slips out of her life, but never never never out of her heart. The years go by, and she gets involved with other boys, and for the longest time, she can't figure out why she always ends up pushing them away. She never wants to get connected, and she cares for the boys, it's just that something happens and she is always a complete bitch in relationships. And then one day she just knows it's because of the little boy. Over the years, the memory of him has remained. The emotions are still there. Things are supposed to be better with time, but it hasn't gotten easier. Every time she things of him or someone mentions him its like the dagger in her side is twisted a little more. She thinks about the little boy very often. Way more often than she should. But she can't talk to anyone about how she feels, because no one would believe her. No one would believe she fell in love when she was that young. No one would believe she knows what love is even now, but she does. No one would believe she thinks about someone she hasn't seen in six years as much as she claims. But it's all true. Fuck Fuck Fuck she misses him. She would go talk to him one day, she knows how, but she doesn't know what would happen. For all she knows, the little boy won't remember her. He might blow her off. Of course, she wouldn't go confess her love. She is by no means stupid in that aspect. She just wants her boy back. But she is so afraid that seeing him again would make things even harder. But how could they get worse? And isn't there that slight slight minuscule chance the boy remembers her in the same way she remembers him? She needs him. He is her life even to this day. It may sound stupid, but she knows if it meant having him, she would drop everything and everyone in her life. She just wishes that one day just one day....... and she also wishes that someone would understand, but she's too afraid to tell anyone, because every time she tries to, she can tell what their reaction will be, and it doesn't matter what they say anyway. After all she knows what she felt and how she feels. And no one can take those feelings away, even though sometimes she wishes they were gone. And the little girl is waiting for her happy ending, for her prince to come and save her. And damn we all know she needs some saving and hell he's probably the only one capable of doing that. She just hopes she doesn't screw up anything.
A note for your consideration: This is merely a story. Take it for what it is. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Don't think twice, it's all right.

Is it agreed upon that we all know how much little Miss Madlyn Claire rattles my nerves? Your answer to that question better be a most definite Yes. Today I do believe she was at her worst. To attempt to make the story short, she threw a fit because she wasn't satisfied with a drawing she had drawn and thus blamed me for this. After a good twenty minutes, she had exhausted all of her whining abilities and sat down to watch tv. To the important part- about an hour later, she made a comment about her grandfather. She followed this comment with this question-You don't have a grandpa anymore, do you Ozie? We had already discussed this topic before and so I answered briefly with a no. She goes back to eating lunch, the subject seemingly dropped. A few minutes pass, and then she says this- It's okay, Ozie. You don't have to be sad. Maybe he'll come back down from Heaven to see you if you wish hard enough. I couldn't help but to tear up at this. I've had a lot relating to this subject on my mind lately. Maybe that's all you have to do-just wish hard enough. Who is to say it isn't possible? I mean, we lose so much of that innocent pureness as we become exposed to the harsh realities life has to offer. When we start to grow up, people tell us thoughts like this are impossible. Enough times of these words being repeated, and we start to believe them ourselves. If we escaped being exposed to this kind of mindset, what would happen? I'm breaking out of the mold, I think it's worth a try.
"You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one." ---Imagine---John Lennon

Viva la white girl.

First things first... Factory Girl is a movie that words can't describe. Go watch it. If you know nothing about Edie Sedgwick and Andy Warhol here is your perfect opportunity to learn. If you do know about them, then all the better. The movie is brilliant I tell you. Guy Ritchie IS Andy. Sienna Miller just brings Edie to life and it's all so real. Oh Jimmy Fallon is in the cast also. Anyway, the story line is powerful and it is a movie well worth watching. I've seriously watched it almost twenty times since I got it and I've watched it three times in one night. I do believe it will prove itself to be my favorite movie ever. But now---
I'm sure everyone has experienced having a song stuck in your head. Am I correct? Well call me a book warm and a movie fanatic-yes I am a self admitted dork!-but sometimes I get passages from Shakespeare or lines from movies stuck in my head. Well...today I wake up and I had that poem from 10 Things I Hate About You stuck in my head which I found a bit odd because I haven't watched that movie in ages. And since the poem has been stuck in my head all day, I decided to write my own version. It sucks ass-but that's what I get for trying to rewrite someone else's poem in five minutes!

I hate that you're so gullible
And the color of your lipstick.
I hate it when you steal my friends.
I hate that you never get sick.
I hate your expensive t-shirts
And the way you catch my lies.
I hate you so much I can't get sleep.
It really fucks up my mind.
I hate the way you never listen.
I hate it when you scheme.
I hate it when you leave me out
And then say that we're a team.
I hate it when you're not my friend
And the fact you don't think I care,
But mostly I hate the way I can't hate you.
Even when I try,
No matter what I do,
It's just not fair.

So what do you think???
One more thing before I hit the sack. I would like to thank a certain person(they know who they are) for helping me so much last night. It meant the world to me and I'm forever grateful to them for being so great about everything and just listening when I needed a shoulder to lean on. So certain person- if you read this I just want to let you know I'm here for you when you need me. After all...it IS about time YOU break down. he he ha ha. I kid.

I know it ain't how it used to be, but I'm not good at being me anymore.

A forewarning: this will prove itself to be pessimistically written and lengthy while all the while just speaking the harshest of truths.
Why is it those we love the most are those who cause us the most hurt? Why is it that those people are also the ones we hurt to the utmost degree? Why is it that the most fragile of us seem to be drawn to one another-when what we truly need is a strong associate-someone to keep us from wasting away? We all seem to be lost, but why is it that when we feel secure-not lost anymore, that we find ourselves with all the wrong people. Not strong people, but those like us, fragile. Why is it that the fragile will inevitably end up bonding and thus destroying each other? Why are we so destructive and cruel to each other? Is it something that results from our fragility or is that just the excuse? Is it a crime that is committed unconsciously or do we do it intentionally but later convince ourselves it was unintentional? Do we help destroy one another to insure we won't be the one to succumb to our weaknesses first? Do we commit the crime to make sure we don't become too attached? Is it all a desperate attempt to protect ourselves from the pain of emotions? Will we ever acknowledge those we've helped break down? Are we even capable of acknowledging those who have helped destroy us? We don't seem to be able to until it is too late. If it wasn't for one another we might stand a better chance at holding on, but we care for each other- that is our ultimate downfall. The people we care for exceedingly are the people we tend to let slip out of our lives the easiest. We spend the best times of our lives with these people. How are we to know which people in our lives are those that will have the most significant impact? Until they are gone and we reflect, we don't know. We are tricked while in the moment thinking those who will soon fade into oblivion are those which are of importance. While focusing on these people we let those who truly matter slip all too quickly out of reach. Why is it that to hide our suffering we go out of the way to harm the other person? Who are we really harming more? It is undeniable that people will come and go in and out of our lives, no matter how much that fact may eat us up inside. We can try to mask our emotions so we don't get wounded, but we still will. The fragile of us choose the path of denying emotion because we know we are fragile. The strong people, on the other hand, are unafraid to show their feelings-perhaps because they don't fully understand them. The fragile have actually experienced loss of love and it leaves them in their state. The strong are strong because they believe they have felt the pain, when in all honesty, they haven't. They can claim they have all they want, but they couldn't have. While the strong can live through life tossing all sorts of minuscule events around as extravagant hurt, the fragile live life shying away form connections attempting to avoid the effects. If this is how it works, why are the fragile pained the most? So, people come and go. It is a fact of life. Those who will influence us the most seem to be those we have for the shortest amount of time. Why is it that the ones we want the greatest amount are those we can't seem to keep? Perhaps it is the hurt we exchange. Perhaps it is because we are forcing each other away to protect ourselves from devastation. Perhaps it is that those we care for above all are those that care for us least- that would be a great wish now wouldn't it? It would make it all so much easier to know you were dealing with someone who didn't care. It would be so much easier to let go. Hate is so much easier to deal with than love. But no matter how hard we try, we can't hate those people. Instead we are faced with the truth that while we are being battered, we're also causing damage for someone else. As we watch each other collapse, claiming no guilt for aiding the collapse, we are unable to slow our own destruction. Perhaps we have no desire to if we are already in the process of losing the only thing that matters to us. In the end, all we are left with are ourselves. But can we live with that? Alone? After we have experienced that love? Then we are left to ask ourselves is the love worth the agony we have to endure? Those who are crushed first have the advantage of escaping the distress. Those that make it have to deal with the suffering we try to conceal until something else comes along( we hope). We hope another source comes along to let in the possibility of our own destruction. Those less lucky have to live with it all until death- hence the self-destruction aspect. Perhaps the fragile are divided into two groups. Those who can't stand the pain any longer, perhaps from a deficiency of sources of hope, and those who have enough hope to struggle through the pain just once more. So what are our options? What can we do about all of this? Nothing, if you are the fragile. It is just the reality that the fragile can't escape. Well to sum it all up there is a quote from Andy Warhol's character in Factory Girl as he is talking about Edie-
"I just think people forgot what emotions were supposed to be. I mean it's too hard to care. I mean, you know, I still care, but it would be so much easier not to care. It's just easier being detached."
It isn't weapons. It isn't illness. It isn't drugs. It isn't alcohol. To bluntly put it- we kill each other- with emotions.

I can't get laid in this town without these pointy fucking shoes. My feet are so black and blue and so are you.

My oh so uneventful week has not left me much to write about. It did however, provide me with unimportant tidbits which I had the urge to note.
1.The Matches are rumoured to be putting out their new cd sometime in February or March. I can NOT wait. I shall count the days religiously. Let's just hope that this is actually going to be the date of release! I don't know how much longer I can wait!!!Another rumour is that they will tour with Say Anything... in the fall. Can we say the most bitchin' concert of '07? Yes. Yes, we can. Now how bloody kick ass would it be if they went on tour and came near us on my birthday? It would be the best birthday present ever. Rocking out with The Matches and Say Anything... for my *sweet* sixteen!!! Can we say Olivia would fucking flip? Yes. yes, we can.
2.Another odd-that chick has my clothes-incident occurred. I was watching the N and they have these clips of casts from all the shows hanging out. The clip I saw happened to be a pool party scene. Well anyway, the chick that plays Madison on South of Nowhere had my bathing suit! To say the least I was flabbergasted that people keep stealing my clothes and wearing them on TV!
3. Jordan called a little while ago and so I left my spot on the couch to talk to her. When I came back, some show called One on One was on and as I was about to change the channel, who do my eyes behold? None other than Kel! Yes the Kenan and Kel Kel! Who doesn't love Kel? Seriously. So, that made my day.
I vow to you that the next time I write, the topics will be of more substance. But I will say it again---Who doesn't love Kel?

all is fair in love and war.

Two random submissions:
1. I was watching the "Rock of Love with Bret Michaels" last night because nothing else was on and Bret Michaels astounds me with his unchanging appearance. Seriously the guy has not seemed to age any since Poison's first album cover! To the point- so the previews come on for the next episode and the chick has this black skull covered bra with red straps and I'm like wait a minute...what the fuck? that's my bra!!! -the one I'm wearing at that moment none the less-and Bret is holding it up. I was like hell yes he needs to pick that fellow Hot Topic shopper as his "love". Anyway, I just found that to be a weird coincidence.
and 2. Yesterday I also saw a new Kidz Bop commercial at like three a.m. I believe it was for Kidz Bop 12. Let's just say I CAN NOT stand those cd's. It just ruins the music, I'm sorry to anyone who buys that shit for their kids or whatever-but what is the problem? If it is because they don't like the artists who sing these songs and the influences they may have on all the precious kiddies(which has been the response when I asked)-HELLO. Wake Up! Someone along the line is forgetting that half of these so-called bad role models write the songs that are mangled by Kidz Bop. To the point on this subject- They have Gym Class Heroes' Cupid's Chokehold as an included track. It seriously ripped my heart out to hear such a beloved song performed by dear Travie to be turned into a torture device. I hope for the future of my dear heart and soul that I don't hear an even more treasured song butchered when Kidz Bop 13 comes out. As for now, my heart as been placed back in my chest and is slowly mending itself back together thanks to repeated plays of "As Cruel As School Children" and "Papercut Chronicles".

you're the boss, applesauce.

Nonsense follows...so I got bored and I checked out this slogan site I heard about on The Matches' message board. You enter whatever you want, so I entered my name and these are some of the funniest things that it generated.(Keep in mind most of these are only funny when thought of pervertedly.) And without further ado... the top ten.
10.Olivia-it looks good on you.
9.Olivia keeps going and going.
8.The best Olivia a man can get.
7.Savour the flavour of Olivia.
6.Get busy with Olivia.
5.Nothing sucks like an Olivia.
4.Have you forgotten how good Olivia tastes?
3.Lipsmackin' Thirstquenchin' Acetastin' Motivation' Goodbuzzin' Cooltalkin' Highwalkin' Fastlivin' Evergivin' Coolfizzin' Olivia.
2.Don't you just love being in Olivia?
1.A finger of Olivia is just enough to give your kids a treat.

fear leads to anger. anger leads to hate. hate leads to Olivia.

Wow wow lovely listeners. I'm not babysitting Madlyn until Thursday this week. I almost miss her a little...who will watch the Yo Gabba Gabba previews ten times a day with me??? I'm overcome with a rush of ideas as of what to do with my free time in the next three days. I do believe the time will be spent doing online P.E. course activities and making t-shirts while wearing my new Shawn Harris-resembling jacket. To hell with the ninety degree weather, that's what an air conditioner is for! Well, to the point now, my weekend got me to thinking(why oh why???) and I've come to the conclusion that this next school year will be undoubtedly a drag. I'm not going to get to see anyone hardly. It's so sad. Oh my my my-like Ian and Heather and well I'm not going to get into a list, but you get the point. And this will be Mikey's last year-it's so sad that we're not close anymore. Okay, well then I started thinking-you know what Olivia? this is a great thing that's what. Even though you're going to get to spend as much time with people-if you're really friends you will still be friends. And maybe you will meet some new people and the best thing of all is that you might be able to get away from some of that stupid high-school drama. I am very happy to know that I will have to spend less time with certain people who say they hate this kind of stuff and then start it with their self-proclaimed, so-called best friends. I'm merely fuming. No names will be mentioned in an attempt to distance myself from this drama. I'm just a little disappointed in some people's narrow-minded understanding of friendship. Yes, some people can be very annoying, but these people may also be my friends. I'm sorry that certain people can't understand that I care about males, females, white, black, red, yellow, one hundred years old, five years old, goth, emo, preppy, whatever fucking label they get slapped on them. When I connect with someone it means something and I'm not throwing away a friendship with someone I deeply care about just because certain people don't want to understand and try to start shit. And if a certain person mentioned in this passage reads it, maybe they will understand I have no reason for making shit up, so why should they? So please, certain unmentioned people, don't say you dislike something and then do that which you supposedly dislike so much. I can only blame the blamer, not the blamed.

The story of love is quicker than the blink of an eye, the story of love is hello and goodbye...until we meet again.

I only thought it appropriate that my first post should be solely about the matter in my life that has effected me most. I'm sure there will be much rambling and senselessness and I'm not going to edit it so whatever comes out comes out. I expect no one to read this. It's pretty much purely for myself and her. Today would have been my grandmother's birthday. I feel a sense of guilt because it was almost forgotten by me even though it has been on my mind for the past few months. Today doesn't bring the rush of overwhelming emotions that i anticipate will come with the one year anniversary of her death. I miss her and think about her very often. She had more of an effect on me than any other member of my family has seemed to thus far. It kills me inside when I think of all she has missed in the little amount of time she has been gone. It seems like everything in my life was waiting to built itself up to the last couple of months. I always wanted to make her proud more than anything, even though I knew just as any grandmother, she was proud and loved me without me doing anything at all. I just felt like I needed to give her reason to love me because she loved me so much and it just didn't seem right for someone to love me that much without what I would call a proper reason. I remember when she found out I was going to dance and I just remember the thrill that seemed to encompass for her. She had always wanted that little prima ballerina and I think it just meant so much more that I had chosen to do it myself. I was so happy to be dong that for her. Then my first recital came around a little more than a month ago and it just didn't seem right that the person who would have wanted to be there the most, the person I needed to impress, the person I wanted most, couldn't be there. I know I waited too long and it eats me alive and I just wish that I would have been able to see her there and there is just that emptiness that can't be filled. No matter what it takes, I'm going to be her prima ballerina-and hell I know it just doesn't seem possible. But I just have to do it if I never do anything else in my life. And last week we had a family get-together and I don't know if I'm ever going to get used to her not being there. I don't want to get used to it, I just want to wake up and this all be a dream and still have time. And the whole Governor's School thing would have been so impressive to her. The day I found out I knew she would have been the first person I would have called. I knew that like the moment after I found out- and if it wouldn't have been for that chance encounter with Leon I probably would have broken down in the hall. I just wish she could have been around for all of this. My uncle and that side of the family said I looked like her during the recital, and those people at her funeral and visitation, and my dad, and people who read my vignettes. I just wonder if she was alive would they be saying that to me? I doubt it and I don't think people say that stuff to Cassie and Channing. It's just something else I can't explain. And I wish there were answers to everything. I almost feel like the fact I guess i resemble her makes me feel even more that I need to do everything right. No one ever told me I looked like her when she was alive. As weird as this sounds, maybe she left part of herself with all of us and I got this. I used to have dreams about her and there were three in particular I remember. The last one I had with her though she wasn't herself. I mean it was her body-wise and all but it wasn't her. And it was just so weird because in the one before that she told me she had to go, that she didn't want to but she had to. And then that last one came along and it wasn't her and it made me the saddest of them all because she was gone. I haven't had a dream with her since. The fact that about the time of that dream I broke down in dance class for a reason I don't even know- it all just seems so weird. My dad still doesn't know of that. And it really saddens me that that was the last dream. I'm one of those weird people who believe in subconscious communications that occur in dreams. And I just want to have her back again. It would be the best thing to dream of her once a week even, but I don't and I just wonder where she is. How do I get that communication back? And I'm starting to think I can't. Maybe she is watching over us all and sees all this. I just wish I could get some verification. I just want to make her happy. All of the witching hours effects are seeming to take their toll on my brain. Maybe she saw me and Parker this weekend- everything was like it was when we were little. I think we bonded more in a few hours than we have in the past few years. It was one of the greatest days I've had. You know sometimes I wonder if all this is even worth it, living to make her proud when all I want is to be with her again. I just want to rush through this life to get to her, but there is no guarantee that I'd get to be with her and that she'd want me. So maybe it's better to just live like this now remembering what it was like to have her because whatever lies ahead could be more devastating. And I know that she isn't the lady to give up easily in life and it just seems selfish to want to be with her not thinking about the cost of that. In the past few years we had gotten extremely close in my eyes and I'm pretty sure in hers too. Its almost ironic though because when i was little I thought Cassie was her favorite so i couldn't compete and yet i tried to beat Cassie on everything, smartness, prettiness, everything a jealous little kid tries to do. I was the brave one who stayed over all night and even though i loved Cassie to death and i still do more than i have shown, i was almost glad when she went home because then I got to sleep next to Iboo and I got to be with Iboo in the morning. I think we all got our fare share of her. First Channing, Parker, Cassie, then me. Its a delicate subject but i just want to ask them if Iboo ever gave them little whatnot's. And it doesn't seem like Iboo to not. I doubt she ever loved any one of us more than another. And I just want to be her prima ballerina. I want to be that delicate fragile one. That's the one i was. Perhaps in that sense i was her more. All this makes my brain spin in my skull. I feel stupid because of all this but it always repeats itself because i don't get any of it. why did she give me the earrings before she died? did she know? the thing i will always remember is how happy she was when i trusted her that one day and no one else did. when everyone was trying to make me doubt her too. but i stood by her. she was my Iboo. she wasn't some senile old person.and then when she was proven right a few weeks later. and she always brought that up. there is so much i feel that is slipping from my memory but how can it? the littlest things i never want to forget. her hands. "my sweet ole thing." that arm around your hip. the kiss on your cheek. hell and we all know i have such a "cute figure". that tender voice. and that smile. o my gosh and pedophile has to be pronounced correctly. we could actually comfortably carry on a conversation. i plan to go to her grave when i know that I've done it. who knows how long that will be. i just want her to know she will never be forgotten and i just wish my dad knew how deeply this effects me, maybe he would feel more comfortable talking about it all. he probably wouldn't understand my reasoning behind not visiting her grave yet.