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.