Spring Break 2014: New Orleans

Yesterday was just absolutely perfect. We went to New Orleans for a day trip for Spring Break. We got there around 11:00, and so we walked around. And we walked, and we walked, and we walked. There was a little French Market in the French Quarter, where nearly everybody was selling the same things. We did a loop around that, and then continued through the streets.

I wish I could've gone and taken better pictures, but alas, I was equipped only with the phone on my camera.

Not bad, actually, as it has more megapixels in that little camera than my own personal digital camera. Then again, my digital camera's like six years old, so it's getting on up there in technology years. 

It was an overcast day, which made taking pictures a little better, because I didn't have to fight with the sun to get pictures, and nothing was washed out. At the same time, we got to enjoy the city without being murdered by the hot temperatures. That's a great thing, because the last time I came to New Orleans (for a little four-hour or so trip with my youth group, about three years ago), we all sweltered from the heat and just about gave up on seeing most of the city because we wanted to stay in the air conditioning all day.

Last time, I went down Bourbon Street after dark. This time, it was fully-light when my family wandered down the Street of Debauchery. I even came across Jester's, which is where my boyfriend got his favorite drink the last time he was in New Orleans. (Note: I do not condone drinking, but if you spend enough time with HIS family, you're gonna want to start!)

As we were walking to the restaurant where we were going to have lunch (Deanie's Seafood, where my sister and I went to last time we were in the city and wanted to go to again, because their shrimp was delicious and it was relatively affordable, unlike some other sit-down, inside restaurants), we came across a building that had an angel behind a steel fence.

Of course, being a Doctor Who fan, I had to snap a picture. I then freaked my sister out by whispering, "Don't Blink" at her. (She's never fully recovered from the Blink episode that I showed her...last January.)

It does make you wonder, though: why put the angel behind a fence? I suppose it's to stop the tourists from destroying it, but why not just remove the angel entirely, or put it on the inside of the building? Just something for the architects of the city to think about.

Speaking of architects, I've fallen in love with the buildings in this city. None are the same, and they're all gorgeous and detailed and seem to tower above you, no matter which way you turn. Although the streets are a little too narrow for my liking, and some of the people are really rude, I think I'd love to look at all of the buildings in the French Quarter. They're stunning.

After lunch, we hit a couple of shops in order to claim our souvenirs for the day. My sister managed to find a mug exactly like the one I broke three years ago (the day after she got it). It wasn't my fault - my mom had placed the thing on top of a box, wrapped in brown paper, and I accidentally knocked it off. I thought my sister was going to kill me, but everything was made right today.

After a quick stop at Café du Monde (and some serious wondering at how the staff keeps their heads, when they're non-stop busy all day long), we walked back to the market. My sister wanted to get a bag that she'd seen earlier, but I think my mom talked her out of it (it wasn't really of much use as a purse, because it was nothing but one big compartment, which means that anything put inside of it would be sucked into the Black Hole of Nothingness that I'm sure all females are familiar with).

As we were heading back towards the Café and, ultimately, our car, I came across this little sticky note stuck on the back of a street light control box. It says "The Stars Are Up #Alive." I thought it was a really cool little note. And it has to be fairly fresh, too - the flowers that are attached to it are still newly-picked, and haven't begun to wilt at all.

Just something to make you stop and think on a street corner.

So what did I end up getting from the French Market, on this overcast and gloomy day in New Orleans?

I bought myself a ring as my last purchase of the day (let's start at the bottom and work our way up, shall we?). I was agonizing over three different choices: a Celtic double-knot, a Celtic trinity, and this little carved band. I wanted a band that looked a bit like a choker necklace, but it was a little too small for my fingers.

I spent probably five minutes trying on the three different rings before deciding that the trinity was too big for my finger. It then took another further two to decide whether I'd get the Celtic ring or the band. My mom finally pushed my decision (because she was getting tired and irritated), and I bought the cheaper of the two rings. I'm really happy with my new ring, though - it's gorgeous!

Before I got the ring, I stopped at a little stall that had carved animals. I guess I lingered a bit too long, looking at them, because the owner came up to me. 

"What your favorite animal?"

When I replied, "A cat," he picked up a small cat and shoved it in my hands. 

We went back and forth about price before he lowered it from $22 (which I never would've paid for a little thing like this!) to $10, because it was closing time and he wanted to make one last sale of the day.

I like the little cat. It's hand-carved from, supposedly, tiger's eye jade, and took about five hours to make. I probably shouldn't have bought it, but he guilted me into it. Sorta.

Before buying either of those two things, though, I bought a mug for my boyfriend, Matt. I had wanted to get him a little string voodoo doll, but my mother vetoed that (even though he would've found it awesome), and since I couldn't get away from her long enough to purchase one, I just got him a mug.

It's a plain black mug with "New Orleans" on the outside, but the inside has paintings of masks and street names and landmarks from New Orleans. I think it looks really cool.

But back before Café du Monde, we went into a little shop that had posters and t-shirts and other various little souvenir-y things in it so that I could get a souvenir that my mother would pay for. I ended up getting two prints from the same series. Essentially, I guess they depict the same black-and-white tabby cat in famous New Orleans scenes. I thought they were adorable, and my mom said two would be better than one. 

So who am I to argue with her? I picked up my two favorite cat scenes: the "Cat du Monde" and the "Streetcat named Desire" and let my mom pay for them. 

So while two of my technically four souvenirs don't have anything specifically related to New Orleans on them, I'll still think of the city whenever I look at them. I'll be wearing the ring often (because it's pretty and I really like it), and the cat's going on my shelf of cat figurines. I really need to start collecting those again. As for the cat prints? I'll probably find a way to frame them and place them with my cat collection as well. (Have I mentioned that I have a cat figurine collection? I really need to dust them and organize them again. I need to start collecting frequently as well.)

All in all, it was a wonderful day trip to the city. Come back tomorrow to see what I did on Day 2 of Spring Break 2014!

One Year

One year ago, I was sobbing into my pillow as my then-boyfriend readied himself to go to Basic Combat Training (BCT). We Skyped one last time, ironically on the date of our one-year anniversary. It was a long-distance relationship, and I thought it had been going rather well.

I received a phone call from him every single night he was in reception, and he even Facebooked me when he had internet access. I wrote him three letters a week and sent them. And then I waited.

And I waited.

I wrote him over 400 pages of love letters, three per week, wasted at least two stamps per letter, and what did I get back? Six pages.

Four pages of "updates" in the first two letters he sent. That was the first two weeks he was in Basic. And then the last two pages were in the break-up letter. 

Yes, that's right. The dirtbag broke up with me through a letter.

If you're looking up stuff on Specialist Charles James William Smith, an Army Bandsman, then I'm happy to tell you that he is a manipulator, a liar, emotionally and psychologically abusive, and enjoys controlling people around him. I didn't even realize it while we were dating, but the more I talk about my relationship, the more I realize just how horrible of a person he was to me. He hit me once. I was trying to get him out of a shop in the mall, and he turned around and punched me in the leg. I had a bruise for about two weeks, but nobody ever saw it.

He kept me from going out and being myself. 

"You want to dye your hair? Why? Want to look like a freak?"
"You cut your hair above your shoulders? ... At least it'll grow out."
"You didn't seriously wear that today, did you?"

He only cared about what I looked like on camera, and only then if I was wearing as little clothing as possible. He wouldn't look me in the eyes at times. He cared more about himself in the relationship than he cared about us in the relationship. He didn't put any time into it for me. I was there to please him, and if I didn't, then he got fussy and cranky, just like a spoiled child.

I'm so glad I'm no longer with him. Even though the break-up was emotionally devastating to me, what with the emotional trauma and the psychological issues I had to go through (the waking up and screaming in the middle of the night because I didn't believe I was good enough, that I was an absolutely worthless piece of dunderheaded fluff, certainly didn't help my psyche at all), I'm so glad I moved on.

It's been one year since my ex left me, although he didn't officially end things until May 28 (one week before we were supposed to be reunited). The coward kept me pining after him, in heartache and confusion, for nearly two months while he sat back and laughed at my letters.

It's been almost five months since I started dating my boyfriend, Matt. The difference between Matthew and Charles is that Charles is a psychologically abusive control freak and Matthew is caring and understanding.

I wish I'd been able to see it sooner. I could've saved myself a ton of heartache and drama if I'd just given up on him when he stopped writing back.

At the same time, though, I now actually have a future to look forward to. Going into the military life again? How on earth could I have thought that'd be the way that I wanted to finish out my life? Moving time after time after time, again and again, just like I had during my childhood? What was I thinking? (I am in no way knocking military life, by the way. That was my childhood, and made me who I am today. I'm just not cut out for it any more. I want to settle down, have a house that I can customize to my heart's content.) 

I have someone who loves me, and I have someone (who was also emotionally and psychologically abused) who knows how not to do relationships at my side. We're in this to win this. I'm only sorry that it took me so long to figure it out. I'm not looking for the brave, macho person; I'm looking for the kind and caring person that actually wants to hold me and be close without needing a "reason" to do so.

So for those of you out there, don't you dare settle. I thought that, since I was seventeen, I was too "old" to find someone out there who would want me. I was willing to settle for the first person who looked my way. That turned into the worst decision of my life. Because I chose to settle, I lost who I really was, and it took me a long time to bounce back from a year of psychological abuse.

It's going to be okay. And if you want to talk, I'm here to talk. I don't want to see others make my mistake. For the time being, though, I'm going to go and find something to take my pills with. I'll see if I can post something later this week...if I'm conscious enough after vacation and long shifts at TreeTop!

Radical Feminism

I do apologize for not having posted recently, but I've been so busy with school and other things that I haven't had time to just sit down and WRITE for my blog. And as we all know, school comes first, because otherwise I won't have food to eat if I graduate.

I'm taking a class this semester called "History & Critical Public Address/U.S. Criticism," which is essentially a historical rhetoric class. What we do is, we read speeches and look at the rhetoric included in them. We dig into the audience and discover why they listened to the rhetor in the first place. 

We've read things by Black Hawk, Angelina Grimké (I even did a presentation on her), Harriet Tubman, etc. We've covered things from Native American Rights, to Women's Rights, to Abolition, to the Civil Rights Movement, and now we're moving into Second Wave Feminism. 

Ah, Second Wave Feminism. 

My second presentation for this class is on Valerie Solanas. You probably haven't heard of her. Which is, actually, a very, very good thing.

Valerie Solanas is the author of the SCUM Manifesto. The acronym is supposed to stand for "Society for Cutting Up Men."

Yep, you read that right.

Ms. Solanas wanted to rid the world of the male gender, because she saw no reason for men to exist. They were "glorified, walking dildos" to her, and since women can reproduce because of science, men aren't needed any more. 

Men are also responsible for:

• War (because this is the only way he can prove that he's a "man")
• Niceness, Politeness, & Dignity (a social code that ensures perfect blandness)
• Money, Marriage and Prostitution, Work and Prevention of an Automated Society (apparently, money is the root of all things evil and it's why leisure time terrifies men)
• Fatherhood and Mental Illness [fear, cowardice, timidity, humility, insecurity, passivity] (because Daddy doesn't love his children, and Daddy can only be respected if he remains aloof)
• Suppression of Individuality, Animalism [domesticity and motherhood], and Functionalism (females are reduced to animals because that's the only way men feels safe around them)
• Prevention of Privacy (because men want to be women, they create a society based upon the family)
• Isolation, Suburbs, and Prevention of Community (men cannot cooperate to achieve a common end, because men swing back and forth between isolation and gang-banging, and there is no middle ground)
• Conformity (men are scared of anything that makes them different than others, so he clearly defines genders)
• Authority and Government (men created authorities, then wanted to usurp the females and become Woman, so now all authorities are male)
• Philosophy, Religion, and Morality Based on Sex (men cannot relate to anybody, so he invented philosophy and religion so that he can find something to save himself)
• Prejudice [racial, ethnic, religious, etc.] (because men need scapegoats)
• Competition, Prestige, Status, Formal Education, Ignorance and Social and Economic Classes (the purpose of higher education is not to educate but to exclude as many as possible from the various professions)
• Prevention of Conversation (men cannot talk about anything other than themselves, and when they try, they end up droning on because it is a strained, compulsive attempt to impress the female)
• Prevention of Friendship [love] (men have contempt for htemselves and for all other men and for all women who respect and pander to them. So love can't exist between two people of either gender, because only two secure, free-wheeling, independent groovy female females can have love)

Oh, but don't worry. Men have given us these things instead:

• Great Art and Culture (a highly artificial world in which the male is heroized by displaying female traits, and the female is reduced to highly limited, insipid, subordinate roles/to being male)
• Sexuality (sex is not part of a relationship. Females can easily condition away their sex drive so they can be free to pursue truly worthy relationships but men only throw them into sex bags)
• Boredom ("Life in a society made by and for creatures who, when they are not grim and depressing are utter bores, can only be, when not grim and depressing, an utter bore.")
• Secrecy, Censorship, Suppression of Knowledge and Ideas, and Exposes (in order to prevent the exposure of the male sex as a whole and to maintain his unnatural dominant position in society, this is what a male resorts to)
• Distrust (males cannot empathize or feel affection or loyalty)
• Ugliness (men are incapable of cerebral or aesthetic responses and are totally materialistic and greedy)
• Hatred and Violence (they must prove they are a man in order to have an outlet for their hate)
• Disease and Death (everything is curable, and we could actually live forever, if men weren't so afraid of exposing themselves as incomplete, disfigured females and stopped researching "manly" war and death programs)

So what are we supposed to do? 

Obviously, we need to eliminate all males on the planet. Once we stop kowtowing to their male-dominated leadership, their entire society will crumble. Solanas even says that everyone needs to "f--- up their jobs" until they are fired, then go on to another place and mess up that job as well. Eventually, everything will collapse and when it does, the women will end up on top because we aren't as weak and narrow-minded as the men are.

You'd think this would be satire. "Something this crazy can't actually be REAL, can it?" you cry in amazement as you read through my list.

Oh, but it is. She is actually 100% serious. 

I encourage you to do a bit of research on Valerie Sonalas and just see how crazy she actually is. (You can just look at her picture and SEE the crazy.) She is absolutely insane. (She even went and shot Andy Warhol because he refused to produce or publish her play, because he thought it was dirty.)

And that is what I've been working on instead of blogging. 

Maybe next week, I'll run a little piece on Angelina Grimké. I thought she was actually really cool, and I would've loved to have met her.

See y'all later - I'm on vacation right now and I've been blogging this while I should've been working on my presentation for Solanas. Oops.

We've Got to Stay Away from Construction Paper

My roommate and I have a serious problem. We love dressing up the life-sized K-9 and Dalek (whom we've named Mycroft) that we put outside our dorm room door last October. It was originally for the Halloween Door Decorating Contest; however, it's stayed up because we didn't have the heart to take it down. We've dressed them up for Christmas and Valentine's Day, and now we've done the same for St. Patrick's Day.

We bought this GIANT thing of construction paper at Target waaaay back in October, and we STILL haven't used it all up! (Although we are running low on red, because, I mean, DID YOU SEE THE SIX-FOOT-TALL DALEK WE MADE?!) So we used a lot of green and yellow this time around, because both K-9 and Mycroft got a hat and a chain, along with some shamrocks. In fact, the only thing NOT made of construction paper is the leprechaun on K-9's tail!

And then I figured out a way to make a rainbow to put above our TARDIS door. It's a bit off-center, I think, and a bit squarish, but it still gets the job done. You can tell it's a rainbow, and it really goes with the St. Patrick's Day (and Ireland) theme that we've got going on. We might could've done another beam, but we have time to figure that out if we need another foot of rainbow on each side of the door.

If I'm being perfectly honest, I never thought about dressing up K-9 and Mycroft throughout the year. I didn't think that this whole thing would get so huge. We hadn't planned on putting a K-9 or a Dalek up; they just kinda happened. And we never planned on putting them life-sized, but we found the blueprints, and it just kinda...happened.

But I'm glad it's happened. We've had a lot of fun. We've spent hours upon hours crouched on the tile floor in our dorm room, measuring and drawing and cutting and taping. (Yep, everything's TO-SCALE, with proper measurements and everything. They might look a little funky, but that's because they're a 2D representation of something that's usually shown in 3D.) Everything's done by hand. Construction paper. Scotch tape. Some painter's tape. A pair of scissors. It's taken probably twenty or more hours to put all this stuff together, and we're hoping to keep K-9 and the Dalek and put them up next year (because we're rooming together again!).

I hope I was able to put a little smile on your face today :) We've put a lot of work into our dorm room, and I love having these pictures out there. The ONLY thing that's not hand-measured and designed? The little leprechaun on K-9's tail (close-up to the left). 

Have a great day, y'all!

Two Purchases I'll Never Regret

It's been an interesting week. (I mean, I learned that my English teacher indirectly hates my guts because I followed her instructions to the letter. Oh well.) But when I got home yesterday, I was able to get my hands on two things that made my week much, much better.

Yesterday, I stopped by my workplace (an arcade) to pick up my paycheck from last week. I had more hours on there than I'd had in several weeks, so I was happy to see that I had enough to get $50 cash and still put more than that in my checking account.

Anyway, I check my ticket balance, get my employee bonus (two attractions and $5 arcade credit per week), and walk around to the prize center to see if I see anything I want. Then I see the MAJESTIC WOLF PILLOW to the left. I told AJ, "Please give me the MAJESTIC WOLF PILLOW."

"One MAJESTIC WOLF PILLOW. It's wonderful and will love you forever." 

So now I'm the proud owner of a MAJESTIC WOLF PILLOW (and yes, you must say it like it's in all caps.

Then I get home and find a stack of mail waiting for me. (I love ordering free samples off the internet; I used to have a post about it, and I'll probably have to bring that post back, because I LOVE it! I'll have to update it, of course, but it's mostly still awesome.) 

Anyways, the top of the pile was my shirt, seen to the right. It's a mashup of Disney's Frozen and Game of Thrones, which is my new favorite book series. (Although several of the character deaths are making me want to rip my hair out and curl into a corner and die. But I know there are a lot more deaths incoming. I don't know how Martin still has characters populating his world for a sixth book!!)

I'm going to wear this shirt on Thursday to give me the confidence I need to go through my story's critique in Creative Writing. (I submitted a fanfiction. I hope nobody in the class has played the game it's related to!!)

Anyways, how has your guys' week been? I'm hoping to start talking about happier things, rather than always complaining. You see, my friend Kiera and I have been talking about how we need to get a group of teenagers together and have a blogging circle. Although I'm no longer  going to be in the "teen blogging" group by August of this year (I'll be turning 20 - yikes!), I still think that older teenagers need to have a group of people that they can trust and in turn get support on their blogs and whatnot. What do you guys all think? 

I'm really going to be trying to talk about happier things. I know my post yesterday about my parents was really a downer. But since I've been dating Matt, and really since sophomore year of college started, I've been a lot happier than I have been in months. I'm finally free of the poisonous grip of my ex-boyfriend, and I am truly happy again. So, my promise to you is that I'll limit myself to no more than three depressing posts a month, okay? (Because sometimes depressing things have to be shared so that you don't bottle them up inside and explode on the wrong person.) The rest of the time, I'm going to write about my days and funny little things I've done.

Also, I'm going to try and do what Kiera's saying in the blog post I linked above: try one new thing every week in March. I think it's time to start trying new things. Who knows? Maybe I'll like something. Be sure to look forward to those posts!

Problems

Warning: This post is going to be unreasonably long. But I need to get this stuff out before it poisons me.

Any of y'all ever have problems with your parents? (Trick question: if any of y'all are alive and reading this, then I know you have.)

But how many of you have problems with your parents stalking your every move via social media? I do.

My father sees nothing wrong with keeping track of every little thing I do by following my Twitter and my Facebook. (Thankfully, he doesn't know what Tumblr is, nor does he know that I have a blog.)

Take Matt's birthday, for example. When I posted the picture to the left on Instagram (and, through Instagram, Facebook), my mother immediately texted me and said, "Your dad just showed me the pic on fb - i dont like it!" And so I had to take it off of my Facebook. It's Harley and Joker. It was a superhero (and by extent, villain) themed party. I was proud of the outfit we'd put together. But my father, who had no idea who Harley was, didn't like the "skull makeup" I had on as it was "disrespectful."


Okay. Maybe I can give that one to him. He had no idea who I was. I only had my face painted, after all; Harley's whole body is a corpseish white. All right.

The other day, I was scrolling through Facebook and found a pretty funny picture that popped up on my newsfeed because a friend liked it. I clicked "like" on it as well. Not three minutes later, my father goes, "LAUREN. Did you see this?" And he pointed out the name of the page to me. The G-D Batman. 

"I did not. I just saw the picture. Eddie liked it, and I found it hilarious so I liked it as well." 

"When you like things like that you're showing a side of yourself that isn't very Christian. Get rid of it." (Read that in an angry, condescending tone, like he's talking to a two-year-old.)

So I had to get on my computer and go track down one little picture I'd liked and get rid of it. I understand, but he certainly didn't have to flip out about it and scream at me. (He was yelling. And then he told me not to yell [which I didn't] when I tried to explain I hadn't seen the name of the page. He couldn't understand how I could be "so blind as to not see that.")

Yesterday, three vinyl stickers that I had been waiting forever for (okay, about a week) had arrived in the mail. I gave Matt his Joker one (he loved it) and went to put the other two on my car. They were a Hylian Crest (put on the driver's side back windshield) and the symbol from FullMetal Alchemist (put on the passenger's side back windshield.) I put the picture through an app called PhotoGrid and put it on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr.

My younger sister sends me a text about fifteen minutes later. "Be prepared for dad to be mad at you." 

"Why?"

"You put stickers on your car. He wants your car to remain 'professional.' And he doesn't like the FMA symbol."

Now, I'm a bit confused. It's my car. I assumed, therefore, that I could do things to it without being attacked. And the FMA symbol? It looks like a caduceus, a medical symbol. It's from a manga. I have several Christian friends who read the manga and watch the anime as well. Hunter does. Tiffany does. So if I want to show my fandom off to the world, just like these people do, it's suddenly inappropriate? I don't understand.

Now, if I'm not at home, my sister stays up in her room 99% of the time, only emerging for school and for supper. She can't stand being around my father, because he's always nitpicky. And since his job ended, he's always been around. He rarely goes out and does anything, and I think it's starting to wear on my mother. I know my sister has been done with him ever since he started questioning her on the way she dressed (SHE DRESSES LIKE A NORMAL PERSON, JUST WITH MORE SWEATERS) and the music she listens to (classic rock and Christian music). He doesn't understand why she doesn't want to be around him. 

I do. She's sick of being picked apart by him, by being yelled at for little things. 

When I dyed my hair a few weeks ago, just the underside, my dad flipped. "THAT'S NOT PROFESSIONAL. I HOPE YOU HAVEN'T DAMAGED YOUR HAIR. THAT BETTER NOT BE PERMANENT. WHAT ABOUT INTERNSHIPS?!"

I'm only nineteen. I'm a sophomore in college. I'm at least a year or two away from being able to get internships IN CLASSROOMS WHERE I WANT TO TEACH. I have NEVER done anything with my hair before, and I wanted to do something fun. 

Looks like I'm not allowed to have fun. My body isn't my own. 

I want to get a tattoo, of a Hylian Crest (as pictured by my car vinyl to the left), on my left shoulder blade. But I know I can't do that until after I get married, because I want a strapless wedding dress and my parents would kill me if I got a tattoo. Which is why I can't tell them about Matt's tattoo. (He has Hal Jordan on his thigh.) It's my body, isn't it? Can't I do what I want without having every single thing questioned?

 Then there's the fact that he keeps track of the Aleve I take when I'm at home. You see, during my period, I get cramps. It's natural. It happens. To keep from saying, "I'M BLEEDING INTERNALLY AND NEED MEDS" to my father, I simply say, "I have a headache" when he asks me why I need medicine. (I'm NEVER asking him where it is. I ask my  mother, and my dad - who's three rooms away - asks WHY ARE YOU ASKING FOR PILLS?!) When he hears me pour out the same number of pills the next day, he asks, "YOU STILL HAVE A HEADACHE?! DO WE NEED TO TAKE YOU TO THE DOCTOR?!" (And yes, he's yelling this whole time.)

I ignore him and I go upstairs. He thinks I'm becoming a drug addict.

I swear. If I didn't have a job, I wouldn't go home on the weekends. I'd stay here in Montevallo. I'm actually enjoying myself this year. I have great friends and an awesome boyfriend. 

Matt's actually the only reason I'm able to stay sane most of the time. My father is getting worse and worse. Matt holds me and tells me that it's not my fault.

It's okay that I like reading books that aren't meant for second-graders. It's okay that I want to express my individuality by wearing comic book shirts and the like. It's okay that I want to dye my hair blue.

Matt's always supportive. If it wasn't for him, I probably would've had a mental breakdown months ago and would've had to go get some psychiatric help. 

Of course, my father thinks Matt's responsible for all of my "changes." He can't seem to fathom that I'M GROWING UP and want to CHANGE. I'm not the same little kid any more. I want to break out of my shell. I want to get away from what I've been most of my life. I haven't liked myself too much in the past.

Now, though, I'm able to try and do what I want. I need to experience the world. I want to get out there and do things. I want to change. I don't want to be stuck as the same little Lauren I've always been. There are things I want to do. I can't stay in my house forever, and my dad doesn't seem to understand that. He wants me to be quiet and complacent at all times. He doesn't want me to grow up. And yet when I act like he wants me to - the kid who doesn't go out - he wonders why I won't grow up. It's really starting to make my head hurt.

Anyways, I'm sorry for this long rant, guys. I know it's long. It's extraordinarily long, and I know I don't do long posts any more. I just needed to get all this out. Hopefully someone out there will see this post and talk to me. I just need someone to talk to.

I've Started Collecting Comics...

...which is the one thing my dad told me not to do when I started dating Matt.

Oops.

It's my money, anyways, and I'll be spending it as I want it. I'm the only one in my family with a job at the moment (although my dad does get retirement pay). 

Which comic have I started collecting, you ask? 

It's Harley Quinn, from the New 52 DC series. She's got a great art style, and the story's brilliant. Basically, after (who we assume is) the Joker blows up the shed she's living in, a guy comes by with a will from a former patient of Harleen Quinzel's (which was Harley's real name when she was a psychiatrist) and says that the patient left Harley a four-story building in Coney Island. She promptly moves there.

 So far, she's stopped two cases of animal cruelty and chopped up a couple of hit men. Oh, and there's a hint of a relationship between her and Poison Ivy.

I'm really enjoying this series. Only two issues (plus the zero issue) have been released, but when Matt and I go back to the comic book shop next week, I'll be getting issue three. (At least, I hope we can go back next week. He may or may not still have money. He's really, really bad with budgeting.)

At the moment, I think Harley's the only series I'm going to collect. Maybe there will be another series, someday (I thought about Suicide Squad, but that's been out for almost three years and catching up on the back issues would be ridiculous), but for now, Harley's good. I think I'm going to have a lot of fun reading these.

And yes, I did get them bagged & boarded. You kinda have to, if you don't want them to get ruined over the years.

Do any of y'all collect comics? Are you more of a DC or Marvel fan?