| Rest in Pieces |
[17 Sep 2004|10:08pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 yeah doods |
] |
Dearest doods,
I'm tired of people thinking I like the lower class brats. I got a new livejournal.
VALHALLAN
Add that shit because you love me.
Sincerly,
awesome.
valhallan valhallan valhallan
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| How long is several moments? |
[16 Sep 2004|09:18pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 hella |
] |
Anger management class is funny when it's held in Bellvue. Kind of ironic considering it's near impossible to drive through Bellvue without getting angry, especially when I am your navigator. Good thing we left 30 minutes early. Good thing you love me enough to put up with my poor directional/map reading skills. Mapquest can suck it. So can DIET grapefruit soda when you clearly selected regular. It's so easy to get angry on the way to anger management. Now I know why wife's get their sex parts kicked in Bellvue. That shit is frustrating. Circle number 5 please, and thank you. It's not your fault.
Then we got lost on the way out of Bellvue, but it was o.k. because fuck Building number one. Fuck reading "Good House Keeping" and "People" for an hour and a half. Bellvue sucked out my soul. I think it sucked out David's too, but having your soul sucked out is kind of fun. So is the E-break.
I love today.
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| What's really going on? |
[15 Sep 2004|09:15pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 oh well |
] |
I am frustrating. Why did everyone have to confess their dishonesty so honestly?
It used to be so easy to see the world as this big happy place made of sunshine and fruit rollups where everyone's intentions were golden. Do you remember those days? Call me gullable. Call me naive, but those were the days.
Let downs didn't even feel so bad, because you knew things would get better. Because everything gets better, right? There was hope there. Hope that if you wanted something enough, you could have it. If you loved something enough, if you cared enough, if you crossed your fingers tight enough everything would unfold just the way you wanted. Rainbows and all. Unicorns even, you could have unicorns.
It turns out all of that is just too easy. It's all hard to buy. You never know if the unicorns are really out there. Maybe you'll never know. Maybe's just not good enough.
Not knowing seems really hard these days.
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| Dear Diary, |
[14 Sep 2004|10:19pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 hellhammered |
] |
I have been out. I have been riding my bike so fast that my legs begin to wobble and my heart starts to beat so fast it sounds like Rick Allen grew back his arm and is busting out drum solo's in my chest. I guess that's not saying much considering I have asthma.
Yesterday I rode to the rocket shaped jungle gym down the street and I sat. Today I rode all the way up "the hill". I had a sweat mustache and I smelt like garbage. Who cares? Boooring.
My livejournal sucks when I haven't been drinking.
Also, I have the clap. It's no laughing matter.
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| I love my sugar daddy. |
[10 Sep 2004|10:04pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
fast |
] |
Today I got brand new shoes. I don't know if you've seen me lately, but if you have, I'm sure you've seen my toes too, poking right out of my played out shoes.
It feels good. Walking in them feels good, like I'm a new person. A new person with arch support like you wouldn't believe.
I wish I had somewhere to be, or some soccer to play.
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| eighteen |
[09 Sep 2004|03:18am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 ... |
] |
I'm like a whiney 7 year old girl. I want things. Lots of things. And I throw fits when I don't get them.
I'm an eighteen year old girl, with all of the cargo. I come fully equipped with stupid posters on my walls and a cling-on complex like you wouldn't belive. I'm immature, but I'll never admit it and I still play Spyro the Dragon. Sometimes it's hard, feeling this whiney. Sometimes it's hard understanding all of this. Maybe it has nothing to do with 1986.
It's so hard not to get pissed and repissed, but I'm learning. Maybe I am growing up. I'm ready for this.
Just know that none of this is for you, it's for me. I'm getting rid of all my little girl grudges.
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| What about Bon Jovi? |
[06 Sep 2004|11:30pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
feelin' good. |
] |
Feelin good. I'm feeling on top of my game. Like fucking Kobe Bryant, sans the rape. You know?
I'm just good at basket ball. Really good. I've won the championship. I've got a lot to show for coming this far. Fucking gold medal.
Today I sat on a pile of rocks and fed the ducks. They ate right out of my hand. Even after I tried to catch them. Trust takes a while to wind back around, even for ducks. Everyone needs bread.
Life as usual. I'm ready to listen to "Slippery When Wet" and chug forties. I'm ready to fire rocks from a sling shot. I'm ready to buy tattoos. I want to play Duke Nukem. Hello, good ole days.
Hi Cassie, how've you been?
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| There are two things I do fast : Drinking, and driving |
[02 Sep 2004|09:03pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 muuuuusshhhhh |
] |
I showed up with sweaty arm pits and three warm beers. I was ready to party. I told everyone.
So we chugged those beers out of some frosty mugs and headed out with a flask full of rum. We headed out to do some serious backseat drinking, all the way to Tacoma. Even the driver was sipping on the Rossi. Safety is for pussies.
So we got to the show and saw some familliar faces, sang along, and everyone got drunker and drunker while I was out on the street, alone. Damn you 1986. Again and again and again.
So finally we round up the troops and decide who is the most sober for the long drive home. Claire wins. We made it downtown alive. Phew.
So we stumble our way down 2nd ave yelling and slurring and we are met out on the street by two men.
"Time to get fodies"
Sure is. Who knows what happened next.
So we ended up back at the apartment with pabst and candy talking about nothing and everyone was edgey.
Then everybody started talking about sleeping arangements and I started freaking out like Corey Feildman. I decided I was going to sleep in a window sill, two stories above the empty streets of Seattle. I sat, and pouted, and spit. To see how high up I really was. I was up high.
Soon the negotiaters came. "Why are you mad?" I told everybody to go make out and leave me in the hall to die. Then I fell onto the ground.
Before I knew it I was laying down trying to watch some weird zombie movie, but the room wouldn't stop spinning. Stupid room.
I made it home in one piece and I was greeted by the sweetest five o'clock shadow I've ever seen. Right out on the side walk.
Today I realized I have it really good.
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| Hello, world. |
[31 Aug 2004|11:06pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
content |
] |
There was an explosion this week. It was in my chest and no one seemed to care. So I yelled at them to care. Over and over and over. Why is it so hard to hear me all of the sudden? Maybe I started speaking in Chinese and I didn't even notice. That's what it felt like. That is frustrating. So I yelled and I yelled and I yelled. Yelling makes you crazy. That's the word on the hill.
I have turned crazy. Hi, nice to meet you.
This was not me. Where did I go? I have been here. Burried in the shit, but you probably already knew that. I probably slurred out the whole story to you once or twice on my nine day drinking binge. I'm sure you were interested. Right?
Riiiiight.
It's over. I refuse to get back in the shit. If worse comes to worse I will cut all of my ties and wear a disguise. Seattle is hard to deal with sometimes. It's hard to exist when everybody is talking.
And everybody IS talking. Always talking.
So it's time to chill out. I want to be left alone. Leave me out of the shit. I'm content here. I'm content with play station, my bike, fodies, and having someone to sleep next to.
Don't mess this up, lover. I'm sick of explosions.
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| We're not in Kansas anymore... |
[27 Aug 2004|03:30am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 understanding is the best part |
] |
Tonight I learned that all of my friends play in bands. Weird bands that sound nothing alike and that aren't very appeasing. Not to me anyway. I just like seeing people I know on stage. I get proud. Like a mother watching her six year old daughter's dance recital. Even if her dancing is under par, it is beautiful.
I leaned against the rope off point to the bar and talked to old friends about that old house and how much fun it used to be skateboarding down driveways. We talked about all the new bands they are in and when I got asked "What have you been up to, Cassie?" All I could come up with was, "I've been riding my bike, and looking for a job... and drinking". I really don't do anything. I am a very inefficient robot. No real purpose, except for looking cool. Mission accomplished.
Everything is weird lately. Real gloomy. Maybe it's the rain. Maybe it's the hormones. Maybe it's just life.
I wish my bike wasn't locked in a car. I wish things would go back to normal.
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| With ravenous hunger... |
[20 Aug 2004|11:54pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
xplode |
] |
No one is safe. This is chapter number two. I feel like I could write a thousand death threats a day. I feel like I could mean every single one with all of my heart. My life is a secret battle field. Didn't you hear? I'm done wading through bullshit. From this point on, officialy. Officially bullshit. We can't be friends, remember? You are the enemy. Everyone is the fucking enemy these days.
I want to ride my bike with a back pack full of beers and read FHM with David. I want to get wasted. I want to defend my honor. I want to wear a disguise and hang out with myself. I want to listen to Satyricon for the rest of my life. This is the right mood. We're back on track.
Find me a party where no one knows my name. Find me some fucking 22's. I am bored of Friday night.
Lonely lonely Friday night.
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| death to betrayers |
[16 Aug 2004|10:38pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 mayhem! |
] |
Death to all. I'm ready to unleash some fucking armageddon. I'm going to smoke you.
And I don't mean smoke you out. You know?
You are leaving here with stitches if you leave here at all. That's the fucking truth. The god damn truth.
My muscles are made of grade A beef. Consider yourself done for. Well done for.
Victory, victory, victory!
Game on!
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| the sun is shining on alpha mega kai |
[16 Aug 2004|02:09am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 we're gonna smoke you |
] |
Today I sat on a roof top with three good friends and watched a naked frat boy get beat up by a scrawny hipster kid, while all of his meat head friends watched.
White belt - 1
Brodog (naked) - zip
Game on!
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| West Seattle pride |
[12 Aug 2004|11:01pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 tweaked. |
] |
Did you hear the news? Hundreds of hypodermic needles have washed ashore on Alki beach!
I want them back.
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| one of those days. |
[11 Aug 2004|06:31pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 fuckin' yeah. |
] |
Sometimes saying sorry is easier than not doing so, even when you don't mean it. I learned this lesson, how did you miss it?
Today is angry. I am bleeding. Bleeding the blood of an angry arm.
I want to be the only girl who calls because I am selfish. I want an apology because I am still selfish, even as I am writing this.
Give to me what I ask of you.
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| Heil Canada, eh? |
[08 Aug 2004|11:08pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 still drunk? |
] |
I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Canada is heaven. We went to Canada, all five of us in a golden chariot. The hotel was Compton, it was named after a Porte Rican hussie called Patricia. One bed, five bodies. The mathematics are mind boggling.
We hit the streets and traded in our real money for some colorful monopoly dollars and started the night off right with some cold ones at the Cambie hotel. I had a fake I.D., living up to my high school reputation and I slid straight in. After three shots and a few rounds of trusty canook beer, we decided we wanted some titties. Some good Canadian titties at a good Canadian strip club.
The babes were a plenty and the booze was flowing. David was too nervous to look at the boobs infront of me, so he kept pretending he was watching the ball game instead, making akward comments about field goals and interceptions while I asked him akward questions that I didn't really want him to answer. "Are my boobs bigger than hers?", "Do you think shes pretty?", "How do you like the ass on this one?". It was the best. We sat there through 3 buttholes and countless titties and pitcher after pitcher after pitcher after pitchaoksknlakjlkja...
We stumbled for what seemed like miles through some weird fucking parade of party goers, horses, and frat boys until we arrived at the infamous Buffalo. I smoothe talked our way out of a cover charge, explaining how we were ambassadors from America. I explained that same story to everyone at the bar. I tried to hook Claire up with a Swiss hotty who I kept accidentally calling sweedish. Switzerland and Sweeden are the same to me after drinking. I asked him about sweedish fish and told him to tell Claire "Happy Birthday" in Sweedish. Oh, Canada.
Then it was shots of Jager...
The rest of the night was stumbling through Vancouver with David, trying to get back to Patricia, but I didn't want to go to the hotel. I swore I wanted to sleep on the bench and on the side walk, but then David explained to me "Cassie, there are no laws in Canada, there are no police and these bums behind us can do whatever they want to you", the story of a life time.
We were lost, and so was my wallet, and no taxi cabs would let us in. They kept saying I was too drunk to get a ride, because I would throw up in the cab. Even in Canada, taxi drivers are don't speak english. Did you know that?
I don't remember the rest of this story but I woke up on the floor of a stinky hotel room, and I swung open the drapes and said "Good morning Canada. Good to be alive." It was good to be alive.
I love you Canada. Please love me too.
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| Oh Seattle... |
[06 Aug 2004|12:45pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 Totally |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Kenny G |
] |
This is a small world we live in. Seattle is a small world. You can run into anyone at anytime with no warning. No time to fix your hair or put on a fancy outfit. Just time to nervously shake hands and say... "Nice to meet you". Sometimes that's all there is to it.
How satisfying. You know? Everyone is existing and writing in their livejournals, just the way life should be. The world keeps spinning.
Internet cafe's are all the rage. Haven't you heard?
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| Rainy days |
[04 Aug 2004|02:45pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 baby baby |
] |
That's what I love about these high school girls, man. I get older, and they all stay the same.
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| Def Leppard |
[03 Aug 2004|02:02am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
Native American |
] |
I love Judas Priest. I love Corina, Corina. I love David and I love lasagna. Today is a good day and no one is going to jail.
Yes!
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