Letters written, torn, yeah yeah..
I just want to let you all know that I took it upon myself to reserve another account here on Woohu. It's under the name cJessicaPyne, as that's my alias on every other site out there.

I've been in increasingly good moods lately (despite my aching back). Even busted out ye olde Tripp skirt:


..and talked my mother into buying me new shoes.
Because, you know, I really need them, mom.


I also want to give a big THANK YOU to you ladies for the praise on my letter. Nothing else matters like you do! The praise was definitely what I needed after a day of work and oil changes.
Correction, oil change. Singular.
But it was one more oil change than I would have liked.
"Turn your lights on, please."
"Kay!" Lights.
"High beams?"
"Oops!" Fog lights.
"Blinkers?"

Cue the windshield wipers!

He humored me mostly and changed my spoiler light for free, so that was awesome.
Still felt like an idiot though.
But it never fails. I always do.
But it's okay; I had my new shoes.

Here's a smile for you guys to let you know that I'm really not that depressing :P



Bop on over to Alex's and tell him to get his updating-ass in gear.

A letter
Dear friend,
One of these days you're going to realize that no matter how many times you change your username, address, or phone number, change is still going to find you.
Your issues are still going to be there shuffling awkwardly around you.

And until you change everything your username, address, and phone number revolve around (ie: you), said issues will never be resolved.

I'd give a lot to have the guy that I met all those years ago. The guy that could supply me with unknown music, say 'this is the shit,' and I could take you at your word - because it always was. The guy that wrote notes and took camera phone photos just to make me smile. The guy that didn't care if it was 4am, because this was better than sleep.

And maybe it's my fault that things collided and fell apart. In fact, I'll go ahead and sign my name on that one. I made a lot of mistakes and you were genuine and brilliant and warm, and you forgave me. You took me back into your world and smiled that rare awkward smile. For awhile, you were that guy, and I was that girl.

You did a lot more for me than you ever had to.

But as I sit here in the dining room of my grandparents' house, linoleum replaced by tile, photos peeling at the corners, I want to tell you that change is all right.
Change is okay.
And I still love you.

You'll get retribution for everything you've done right (or haven't done wrong) and you'll find the love you're looking for. You'll move to a glamorous west coast city like you've always wanted and live in a house with your cat, guitar, and girl. And you'll play Warcraft sometimes when you're bored at home and have nothing to do. You'll sell your car maybe for something less pricey even if it is slower because you're you, and you don't care about things like that. You would rather spend your money on friends and whiny 'life-sucks' music because you like that kind and, man, that's okay.

I'll still love you.

If we can't match up like we did before, that's fine. If we can't make time for one another or decipher each other's cryptic messages anymore, that's all right too. If you won't ever pass over the doorstep of me and Alex's house, or I yours, okay.
If we've lost our touch - so be it.
I'm not mad if you hate me, even though I know you don't, and you know I won't ever hate you.

But if we can't talk anymore just know that I listened to all of your songs today, I found all of our old pictures, and I still have your painting with the secret message on the back.

If you go your way and I go mine, I'll still love you.

I'll look up at the stars in a few years and wonder if you can even see them where you are, or if it's too bright in the city you picked. I'll stand on a ledge in the winter and hold my arms out wide with my face up towards the heavens, catching flakes in my colored hair. I'll scrawl xLN in chalk on the driveway with my children in the summers and no one else will know what it means - what ANY of this means.
Except you.

I found you like sifting through records at a thrift store, dusty and hidden away beneath piles of the truly worthless. I pulled you out, cleaned you up, and took you home with me. You were my best friend for years. You were Joey: Keeper of my Secrets, Prince of Listening, Lord of Late Night phone calls. I think, honestly, you still are.

I've never been one to admit it's too late for anything.
But if we need to let go, friend, I'll still love you.

And what remains is just a feint of what was meant to be.
If a ton of my old photos don't work on here it's because I took my discontentment out on Flickr.
I'm just so hellbent on new beginnings now.

I have a headache, which is rare, but it hardly matters. Today's been a good one, especially in comparison to last night.
I amaze myself sometimes over how much I can salvage.
Mostly how much some things mean to me.
I never thought I'd need someone so much..
love someone so much,
miss someone so much,
grow in someone so much.

But hey! you learn new capabilities every day.
My basket's just overflowing.

My butt's sore from letting Alex convince me to ride one of his dirtbikes. I already knew the basics; the clutch, how to shift, starting, braking, leaning, etc. Thank god for male cousins. But I'm lucky if my feet even touch the ground.
Things got a bit more fun after I got the bike unstuck from the landscape bricks I plowed through.


He says I did wonderfully.
So there.

Now we're off to my house to grab some old N64 stuff and head off to Mitch's for the party. Alex is itching for a fight, which is convenient because we just might find one.
Apparently we stole my sister's cat and she's got a bounty on our heads.
Among other accusations.
But let's not open up that wound.

Eyeliner scribbles.

I sit here typing my disorganized thoughts and tangents and wonder how, earlier, they all seemed to make perfect sense to me in perfect order.
Nothing means what it did before, whether less or more.

So far away from where you are,
these miles have torn us worlds apart.
And I miss you.
Yeah, I miss you.

So far away from where you are,
I'm standing underneath the stars
and I wish you.. were here.

I miss the years that were erased.
I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face.
I miss all the little things..
I never thought that they'd mean everything to me.

Yeah I miss you.
And I wish you.. were here.

I feel the beating of your heart.
I see the shadows of your face.
And just know that, wherever you are,
yeah, I miss you.
And I wish you.. were here.

Sigh. We all know I think about Isaiah and that I miss him.
Really, I don't mean to beat the issue into everybody's head relentlessly, so I won't. I'm swallowing the big egg in my throat and turning the page.
Just for today.
Just for right now.

I've been reading Rockabye like a bible ever since I've gotten it. Rehashing, rereading entire chapters, highlighting, scribbling notes/amens. I've been testing the boundaries I've never had to and pushing them as far as my arms will stretch. I've been spending my nights cross-legged on my floor in a sea of photos and memories.

Simple things mean the world to me all of a sudden.

I'm content to walk through parking lots with Toby and to laugh at ourselves while she drives me to my car because I'm too lazy to walk and was too lazy/tired that morning to get a decent spot. I mock all of the broken things in her car and she mocks that I still haven't figured out how to let myself out of it yet.
I always drive.
No more.

I'm happy walking down the crammed all, sandwiched between Caleb and Brett as they duel a slap-fest above my head.

Today I stopped by my dad's to grab some college things and found that Cameron had written me a letter. I couldn't wait to get home to read it, so I crammed at intersections and stop signs. I was crying before I even opened it, so it didn't even matter. I also am the proud owner of a new foam sign that displays my name and declares that I am the most loved by Cameron Marie Beals.
My littlest sister.
My best friend.

This is all pouring out of miss Live For the Weekend, mind you. It's funny; the old me wouldn't recognize who I am now. The old me laughed at girls like this. I've traded in my smoky eyelids and drastically-colored hair for M.A.C. and a chocolate color Kayliegh helped me pick off the shelf at Meijer. I'm glad to have grown into who I am but I still look into the eyes of other weekend-girls and I know what they think.
I know word-for-word.
I shuffle the Twix bar, hair dye, and books around in my arms and tuck a few renegade locks of not-straightened-in-months-for-lack-of-time hair behind my ear as I fight off my envy for them. Their freedom. Their ignorance. And I still wouldn't wish my epiphany on them - on anyone.
No one should learn the way I did.

I've been thinking about writing a book lately. A lot. About what, I'm not sure, but I realized as I scrolled through the backlogs of entries here that I practically have a novel here already. It just needs some cutting, pasting, and rearranging.
Just like me.

I'm going to take my new sleepy kitten downstairs with me and raid my car, bag, and coat pockets for all of the receipts and napkins I've scribbled and jotted paraphrased-versions of my brain upon.
For all the notes started, unfinished, and never intended for delivery.


Everyone, meet Paul.

Read more..

Do not test me.
'Cause I'm the fucking king of the world.
Get on your knees.
I'm the fucking king of the world.
Do as I please.

Yes. My new favorite band.

So here is my all-inclusive entry of the week.
It's officially Monday, so I can say that.

I have an agenda to knock out of the way so here it goes.

1] Joey:
Ahem.
A better friend? There is none.
And yada yada yada.



Let's cut the bullshit.


You and I, we've never been much for bullshit, have we? So let me just cut to the chase and tell you exactly why you're so important to me.
Scratch that.
Irreplaceable.

You get me. Like no one else does. Au'some, that's ours. That's US. We can look at someone across the room, look at each other, and know exactly what the other is thinking.
Then we bust out laughing.

I don't think I really was living until you raced beside my jeep in your camaro on the first drive home. I just remember looking out the window, unable to see through the tint of your car, and I remember my heart busting out of my chest. I remember Hillary grinning like an idiot, because I was.
And I remember knowing right then that you would always be a part of my life.

Although it wasn't in the way we originally intended, that much is true.

I never thought we'd be happy without each other, and now we're the happiest we've ever been - with other people. Yet still side-by-side. No one else really knows the meaning of the words, "about damn time," like you do.
No one really knows the meaning of me, like you do.
No one else knows how much Alex means to me.
No one else knows how much I miss him, or how much I love him, or how much falling asleep with him means.

You are my male twin.
You aren't my best friend; you're my Joey.
My Joey A. Gross.
Joosep 69.
Joey Topic.
x.Ln

And I love you.

2] my wish list
I figured Joey did one, and in lieu of my previous point, here is mine.

- I wish I could tell my sister how much she is ruining her life.
- I wish I could tell my sister how much she's ruining mine.
- I wish I could take my little sister, stuff her in a sack, and steal her away from the troubles of life (the back seat of my car would suffice, too.)
- I wish carrying my laptop from my room to the computer room wasn't such a damn work-out.
- I wish I had upper-body strength.
- I wish I was patient.
- I wish it didn't take losing my son to make me a better person.
- I wish what I just said didn't sound as bad as it looks.
- I wish my father would see that manipulation and guilt-trips are overdone and far outdated.
- I wish everyone else would, too.
- I wish I could go watch my grandpa's band play and take photos without knowing I will be the one to compile the photoposters at his funeral.
- I wish I could take a photograph of someone without thinking some day, this could be the only sacred memory of that person.
- I wish I didn't have thoughts like that.
- I wish TruTV was entertaining for other reasons than that it makes our lives feel more comfortably fitting.
- I wish compiling this list didn't clutter my head with all these depressing things.
- I wish these 4 weeks would pass by faster so I could be free of the disease called high school.
- I wish Joey lived in the house in Havermeier Way.
- I wish things were easier.
- I wish my above wish is never granted.
- I wish my son wasn't in the ground, but rather digging in it and stuffing worms into his pockets for me to discover later.
- I wish wishes mattered.

3] Alex's woohu
I don't know if anyone else has noticed, but there are woohu invitation codes available again. And I know none of you reading this really need them.
But that's not my point.

My point is that I took the liberty of stealing one of said invitation codes for the Alex you all hear so much about.

It's here.
I know. The name, right? It's clever.

..oh, in case you missed it: Alex's woohu.

Go love him, or harass him about his obsession with the new Alvin and the Chipmunks movie. Your choice.

Quickly, I'm learning.
It's waking up, opening one eye, rolling over, and going no further.
It's not having to rush and get anywhere.
It's greeting the day sans the deadlines.
These are the days I live for.

For one day, let's forget the drama that's practically beating down my door.
Let's go out.
Let's live.

And so now that I've edited my profile, off I go!

* Alex is taking longer than expected, so I'd just like to take the time to let you all know that Porcelain and the Tramps is a great band, and they compose my personality.

Lalala.
I'm branching out.

And all that you'll find inside are pills and butterflies,
but I'll be smiling when I die.