hamnox

I've always been of the opinion that any relationship could find a way to work if both sides were committed to it and they weren't completely clueless about how communicate. The ones that fail are the ones who reach a point where they will not or cannot compromise; when they believe it would be more worthwhile to search for a better relationship than try to repair the current.

Sometimes its a matter of not knowing how to compromise, sometimes its an idea of how a relationship should be that can't be given up, sometimes a matter of "who we are" that we can't betray.

If I were to describe what my perfect man would be in this light, it would all be about practicality. Someone who can grow beside me, a partner in each others' workings. I would look for the best partner I might find, rather than someone perfect. By this theory, a relationship is never perfect: just highly effective.

But some days, I want more than anything to be wrong.

I want every single story to be true, and more. But I don't want heaven to be put right within my grasp. I don't want it to make sense. I want to push and pull, give and take, challenge and support, surrender and conquer all in their own turn and time. Is that what you think makes love? life?

I imagine sometimes what that would be like. And I see our life play out, as best as I might imagine. It is a quiet walk in the moonlight, and a vicious duel of swords; it is as much a tango as a waltz, and as much a waltz as a jitterbug.

I wonder what should happen if I should ever be cursed to get the things I think I want.

And the craziest thing of all is that these two beliefs, and so many other, manage to coexist with each other inside my head. To me, they're just different sides of the exact same cube.


~ Oh my god, I've been describing Mr. and Mrs. Smith, haven't I? OMG..
~ Okay, maybe what I was thinking of wasn't quite so extreme, but it was the same basic principle.

Last Friday or Thursday (don't remember which) this girl came up to me and my friends and started telling us a Christmas story. I thought it was really good so I scoured the internet for a copy, and although its a little different, It's basically the same story and I thought I'd share it with you:

Once there was a store that sold lots of jingle bells---and only jingle bells. As the customers came in, and picked the jingle bells up, the bells would jingle their best, hoping that they would be taken to a nice warm loving home. The littlest jingle bell had many problems. Customers would pick it up, and it would ring for them with all it's might. "Jingle Jingle," it would say. Then the customers would set it back down, and say, "this little jingle bell won't do," and they would walk on, and pick up other jingle bells. As the season went on, there became fewer and fewer bells. At last, Christmas Eve finally came. All of the bells had been taken except the littlest jingle bell on the shelf towards the back. As the store keeper was about to close down for christmas, a man with black snow covered boots walked in, and said to the store keeper, "I have been in my sleigh. One of the jingle bells has broken off, and I need a replacement before I can leave, so the reindeer can know where I tell them to go. The little jingle bell raised its head high as it looked toward the man. It was Santa Claus! The bell became very excited. The store keeper said, "Well, I have one last jingle bell, and I can show it to you if you want, but I don't think that it'll be big enough for your sleigh." The store keeper led Santa to the back of the store, picked up the little bell, and gave it to him. He held it up in his hand, and gave it a little jingle, and the bell jingled with all it's might. Then Santa said, "you're right. It is too small."

My step-dad didn't like the story. He thought it was depressing, and I guess he's right. But I think there's a very important moral to this story: You can't expect good things to "just happen" to you. The Santa in this story is not being mean to the little bell, he just needs a bell that is loud enough to be on his sleigh. The rest of the world is the same--they can't make exceptions for you just because you think you deserve them. And by you, I probably mean me -_-"

Source: westdesk.blogspot.com/2005/12/…

You know you've been reading too much twilight when you see two teeny tiny little bite marks on your hand and think vampires before you think spiders.

I'm reeaaally tired...

I really really hope I don't have alzheimers. Whenever I actually need to remember things, they're just gone.
Like the things that ought to be forefront of a conversation (or journal) I tend to forget to mention.

How are things going Mel?
Eh nothing new.
Can we hang this weekend?
Oh no, I'm packing.
0_o
Oh yeh, did I forget to mention that I'm moving?

I forget to ask about things that seem pretty obvious when pointed out by other people, like how my best friend is having a hard time financially and I don't even know what she wants for Christmas. I feel like a total schmuck because I can't even answer that simple question about my BEST FRIEND.

And there are probably things I should be writing here that I'm not, but the only thing that comes to mind is that I'm not moving afterall. And we got our old dog back then gave her away again when she started peeing all over the place again. And I want to draw really badly but I can never think of anything to draw when I'm NOT in class and supposed to be doing something else.

I is to get new house. yeh.
I mades some comicses. yeh.
I is getting annoyed by repetive gaming music. yeh.