lilsnitch01's Xanga

Monday, November 14, 2005

Mon, 14 Nov 2005 03:33:22 GMT

***All American Kid***

Popular but not plastic. Athletic but not a jock. Smart but not a brain.

You were well rounded and well liked in high school.

Who Were You In High School?
http://www.blogthings.com/whowereyouinhighschoolquiz/

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Sat, 05 Nov 2005 04:00:32 GMT

"I Don’t Think I Need To Feed Them"

When I was in third grade the class hamster had babies. Wanting a pet, Mom and Dad let us have two of them. Tiny was Eric’s and Butterball was mine. Summer came and it was time to go camping at Garner. Since the whole family and friends were going we had no one to watch the hamsters so we decided to take them with us. The first night came and we put the hamsters cage in the tent with us. Tiny and Butterball were night creatures and with Dad being such a light sleeper that didn’t workout to well. So Dad decided that they would sleep in the van for the rest of the trip. A few nights went by and everything worked out great. One morning we all got up and had breakfast and Eric was sent to the van to go feed the hamsters. He pulled out the cage, lifted up Tiny and dropped him with a THUD in the cage and said, "I don’t think I need to feed them." Apparently we forgot to leave the windows to the van open the night before. My father took the cage from Eric, walked over to the woods, and threw everything inside the cage into the woods, dead hamsters included. I was so devastated over the whole thing I kept yelling "You just threw them in the woods, you just threw them in the woods!" So Mom made Dad go into the woods to find the deceased Tiny and Butterball. After they were found us kids decided that they needed a proper funeral. We dug a hole to put them in. The Suchma boys made a cross out of sticks and string. We all said a few words in remembrance of the hamsters. Then Leslie finished up the grave side service with a beautiful rendition of Amazing Grace. That will always be the summer of the hamster funeral.

Friday, November 04, 2005

Fri, 04 Nov 2005 04:52:28 GMT

Here's To Bum

So here dear Bum, I update my xanga page just for you. I dont really have much to say. I was sick today so that was no good. I'm off work tomorrow so I think I'm going to clean and go have lunch at Kyoto. I'm having a sushi craving. Work is driving me crazy. I think I'm going to really start looking for a new job. I want a job in like an office or a bank, I'm tired of retail. Anyways. The weather is getting colder so I love that. I like to be able to snuggle up and be all cozy. My parents are going out of town this weekend which would be nice except for the fact I work 1 to close on Saturday and 10 to 7 on Sunday. Well I guess thats about it. Bum I hope you have a good night and a great day tomorrow, and that you finally get over what ever you have been sick from.

Friday, November 04, 2005

Fri, 04 Nov 2005 04:37:10 GMT

"Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in out time of need. Amen."

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Thu, 27 Oct 2005 14:59:48 GMT

I will always be an Astros fan.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Fri, 14 Oct 2005 16:29:06 GMT

Lets Go Astros!!

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Thu, 13 Oct 2005 01:25:30 GMT

Ok so I know its been awhile but I have a habit of losing touch for days at a time, sorry. So I got into a fight with my store manager today. I didn't like the tone of voice he was using with me all day long. I was working my ass off in a department I don't normally work in and they kept calling me to run the cash register when they didn't even have a line, and then my register broke. It was horrible. He was giving me crap and made some comments that didn't make me happy, so I stormed off mad. We got into a small fight in the middle of the sales floor and I told him how I feel which is not a normal thing for me because I normally just hide my feelings and smile. I started to tear up so he apologized. End of fight. But I didnt talk to him the rest of the day. I've been staying up late the past few nights talking on the internet so thats been fun. I like talking to new people, its fun. Anyways, everythings been going ok lately. I've had a lot on my mind with work and friend stuff lately, so thats been preoccupying me these past few days. Hope all is well with everyone.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Thu, 06 Oct 2005 00:59:34 GMT

So I spent the night at Hailey's the other night. We watched movies and had our long "girl talks" mainly about guys and work of course. We watched The Wedding Date and The Notebook. So we had a good cry and a good bottle of wine. So of course after you have a few glasses of wine you have to make phone calls, so that was fun. Work is going ok for now. Lorena had her baby today, a little boy, so that's good. Oh my gosh, I'm such a nerd! I went shopping while I was waiting for Hailey to get off work and you would never guess what I bought. A mouse pad with a picture of Tom Cruise from Top Gun on it! It brings two of my favorite things together, Tom Cruise in a military uniform and computers, it's awesome! I guess that's about it.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Wed, 14 Sep 2005 02:55:48 GMT

So life is sucking right now. I hate that i'm turning into one of those synical bitches who looks down on life and mainly guys. My biggest fear is that i'm going to be stuck all by myself in life. I just want to know when is it goning to happen for me? Why cant i find a good decent guy? I think i'm a pretty good person that gives anyone in their life be it friends, boyfriends ect. 110% of myself and i always get let down. I'm always the one getting screwed and left hurt. I think thats why i'm turning into a synical bitch. I keep giving people 100 percent of myself and then i get hurt. So why should i try? I think i have just given up on people.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Tue, 06 Sep 2005 14:30:25 GMT

Nice girls like me.

"This is my tribute to the nice girls. this one's for the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong. This is for the girls who don't give it up on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times. This is for the girls who understand that they aren't perfect and that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time he'll have understood. This is an homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don't deserve their attention. This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fuck up the guys in their lives without saying a word. This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds." This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.

This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced. This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn't care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed. This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt. This is for the girls who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.

This one's for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won't because it's easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with. This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone. This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you've returned home alone, for the nights when you've seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he's with to be a random hookup. This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship: it was that he didn't want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.

This is for the "I really like you, so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you've received from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear. This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we've believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we'd have ever wanted. This is for the girls who have been satisified with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.

This is what I don't understand. Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don't appreciate them and don't want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mindgames, that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet, men, I ask you: were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call... and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the "stalker chick" you'd met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this "nice girl" who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you're not looking for a nice girl. You're not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intermural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you're looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.

So don't say you're on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won't answer your catcalls, sometimes you're looking at a nice girl in whore's clothing - - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we're all thinking the same thing: "This isn't me. Tomorrow morning, I'll be wearing a teeshirt and flannel shorts, I'll have slept alone and I'll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me." You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don't want the nice girl.. so don't say you're looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we're willing to extend - - but in return, we're looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they're running they're chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets... the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congradulatory hug (and yes, if she's a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won't matter), hoping against hope that maybe you'll realize that they're the ones that you want at the end of that silly race.

So maybe it won't last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we're waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what's a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)"