This was taken in 8th grade, Rebecca and I were singing along to "Afternoon Delight" in our Physical Science class.

I mentioned a friend named Rebecca in my last post and I feel like I need to write more about her, she is just so amazing. We first met when she transferred to my middle school in seventh grade. We had a couple classes together and she started sitting with my circle of friends at lunch. I thought she was both hilarious and extremely intelligent, two qualities I really admire. I always assumed that because of her cheery demeanor, there was nothing really going on in her life. I wished I could be her, she seemed to have it all, and it seemed to come easily. I now know this is not the case, and never has been, but she kept up a good front back then. We were never very close, she came to a few of my parties and sleepovers, but we didn’t hang out otherwise.

By freshman year we both were pulling away from our group of friends, and I think we both felt like outsiders, at least a little bit. I wasn’t around much, most of mt time was spent at home, sick, but when I was at school we would eat lunch together. Then I left, and we only spoke on Facebook. We made plans to hang out but they never came to fruition. In March of this year, we got together and had a catch up session. A lot had changed in our lives, most of which I can’t really divulge on this blog, but I’ll just tell you that not all of our changes were good. We talked for a couple of hours, then promised to get together again soon.

We didn’t hang out until June, when we went swimming in our above the ground pool. Then, it was my birthday and I invited her to join my family, my friend Lindsay and my ex-boyfriend (whom I’m still friends with) for dinner on my birthday. We started hanging out more. This summer, Lindsay, Rebecca and I started a tradition of staying up all night, until 6 AM came around (the end of curfew), and then we would go to Waffle House. Then, Rebecca and I would take a tiny nap before Rebecca would go to work and I’d fall asleep for the rest of the day. We also ended up going on random adventures.

One night we went to visit a friend. I was sitting in the passenger seat while she drove, rummaging through my purse for something with the light on since it was night. She suddenly started freaking out, we were trying to pass a semi, she was in the no-zone (a term we both love to joke about). “OH MY GOD!” I turned the light out, and attempted to calm her, only to have her exclaim, “LIZZY, TURN THE LIGHT BACK ON! I JUST WANT YOU TO BE COMFORTABLE!”

That statement and the way it was screamed was so ridiculous I burst out laughing, while she tried to explain that if we were to die, she wanted me to be as comfortable as possible, which meant having illumination in the car. I was able to talk her through a mini-panic attack and we were able to pass the stubborn semi.

We stopped at a gas station and had a truck-bed full of rednecks stare and ogle us. Then, as we sat in her car just drinking water and talking for a few minutes, a car pulled around with an older man inside. Our windows were rolled down but we had music on, so when he began to talk, I couldn’t really hear everything he said. It sounded like, “How much?” I asked him what he said, and all I heard was “Garble garble garbledy goo, computer, garble garble grumble, meet me in the back?”

“Uh. Um. Yeah!” I responded. I looked at Rebecca and lowered my voice as he drove to the back of the gas station, “I think we should leave now…” We hang out together at least once a week, which gives me a lot of material to write about.

I’ve learned to really love this girl. She is one of the most genuine, kind-hearted people I’ve ever known and is a strong, tough chick who means a lot more to me than she could know. It’s good to have friends like her, and I’m glad I do.

Things fell through, Rebecca had to stay later than expected at work, Lindsay and Victoria were sleepy by the time she was on her way, and then it was just too damn late to leave. I was seriously disappointed, I almost felt like crying. This was supposed to be an adventure! A group adventure, not just another one of Rebecca and I’s crazy shennanigans, but something all four of us could experience together and have the painful memories together. Lindsay and Victoria promised they really didn’t care, and we’d do it next weekend. This weekend would still be awesome, I promised myself as Rebecca called to say she’s in the driveway.

I don’t know if any of you have experienced it, but it was a night where you’d end up laughing, no longer out of joy but because it is physically impossible, your body will not let you STOP laughing, until it’s halfway painful spasming and this makes you think the whole situation is even more hilarious. Then you’re curled up into a ball, giggling (without sound anymore because you’ve gone hoarse) and kind of crying at the same time. Yeah, it was one of those nights.

We ended up on the couch, watching What Not To Wear at midnight, and eating various goodies, such as: pizza, taquitos and microwaved chimichangas (I abstained from these two), waffles, rice cakes, jell-o, chocolate chip cookies, Reese’s miniature cups, Twizzlers, and Goldfish crackers. Then Victoria, Rebecca and Lindsay all fell asleep. I was sitting there, with Rebecca’s head laying in my lap, patting her back like she was a baby and suddenly a jolt of pain runs through my right leg, from my toes to my hip.

Oh shit. It keeps getting worse, but I try to focus on Clinton and Stacy’s advice for these women. Finally, it gets to a point where my leg is saying “Lizzy, just give up already, this is NOT happening.” and I can no longer ignore the pain. I have to leave or else I might end up in the ER at six in the morning, writhing in pain.

At one, I gently let Rebecca’s head slide off my legs, call my mom and then gather my things to go home. I make the drive home listening to soft music and trying to press the gas pedal with my left foot instead of my right. I discovered that it’s very strange to use your left foot for the gas, because you end up pressing it WAY harder than you needed. Oh shit. You’re freaking out because that car is a cop car.

Oh no, it’s just a taxi. Whew.

I wouldn’t f&$% me! from dancingfoe on Vimeo.

I do not like conflict, or even heated discussions. Therefore, I don’t discuss some topics unless I am sure that the person and I are on a similar wavelength. This may seem a little boring and unhelpful, but I believe there are a few subjects that people are unwavering and unwilling to change their minds about, namely religion and politics. I don’t feel that offering my opinion will bring about much change, and it will only cause me anxiety.

I have always been this way. In fourth grade my class was having a debate, the topic now escapes me, and when it was my turn to speak, I was clammy and stammering. The rebuttal was harsh, the other student kicked my ass. I felt like it was a personal attack, my face turned red and my eyes welled up with tears. I ran from the room and down the hall, my teacher quickly followed me. When she asked what was wrong, why I was getting so upset, I told her, “Why can’t we all just get along?”

Religion and politics affect me so personally that I generally refuse conversation if I know they’ll disagree. Any disagreement makes me feel like I’m being attacked, and makes me want to flee the room.

I obviously have issues, but not issues that will be discussed in any debates.

First up is the British singer Adele. Think of Amy Winehouse, lose the bee-hive, and obvious crack addiction. The girl has a smooth, deep, and above all, powerful voice. My favorite is “Hometown Glory”, I’ve uploaded an Mp3 of it so you can enjoy!
Listen to “Hometown Glory” by Adele
Buy the album

Next, is Cake Bake Betty’s “Song of the Sea”. I fell in love with the voice and tunes of Lindsay Powell (Cake Bake Betty and 1/2 of FESTIVAL, which is next on the list) when I heard her music on some music blog. It has this underlying eerie sound that is unique and heartbreakingly beautiful.
Listen to “Song of the Sea” by Cake Bake Betty
Buy the album

The last song is “In My Back”, by a group called The Tiny. It’s slow, with a lot of string instruments (I never can differentiate, shaddup) that almost compete with the lead singer’s beautiful lyrics and accent, but end up in a perfect harmony. This song almost haunts you.
Listen to “In My Back” by The Tiny
Buy the album

These files are for sampling purposes only. Buy the album if you like it. While you’re at it, give me a cookie.

I don’t know if I would be considered one of the most lovely of women, I’m outspoken and unapologetic, even when I’m not nearing my period, but for whatever reason, I become one of those beasts, on steroids. Here’s the backstory, the low-down and the hoe-down on my ascent to womanhood, or maybe it’s better described as the descent into hell.

Since my early childhood, I’ve been called “wise beyond my years,” and I always appreciated that I was ahead of my peers, both emotionally and intellectually. I even enjoyed my maturity when I began to grow those little boobie buds (see my maturity level) in fourth grade. I was the envy of the other girls, I had tits so I had the power. Over the summer of transition from fifth grade to sixth, following family tradition, I started my period. I was ten years old and the novelty of “womanhood” quickly wore off when the discomfort of pads and pain of cramps arrived to spoil my summer. I was still the envy of the other girls, for getting my period before anyone else in our class, but that was no longer consolation. This sucked. In 8th grade, while most girls were just starting to get their periods, I’d had mine for two years and C cups to boot.

During 7th and 8th grades, I experienced worsening PMS. Screaming, crying, horrible mood swings and a sharp tongue, it sounds like every other teenaged girl, right? Not quite, I was only like this during a week or two out of the month, before my period. It quickly became apparent to my mother that I probably had Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder, just like she once had. We saw a doctor about it, and she put me on hormonal birth control (HBC). I stayed on birth control from age 13 to 17, before stopping a month ago. I realized that the weight I gained in that time may have been caused by the HBC and so now I’m not taking it, to see what changes.

And oh boy, how it’s changed! I hate the way I feel. I had my period at the beginning of this month and by the 12th I was feeling the storm of PMS coming on. Now, it’s a full fledged shit storm over here. I’m crying, I’m SO irritable, I’m lashing out and hurting people’s feelings, I can’t edit what I say, and I can’t control my emotions at all. I’m having HORRIFIC road rage, I scream in the car, and I flip numerous people off every trip. I’m a recluse, partly because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, and also because I’m infuriated by everything anyone says or does.

I want to change but I honestly don’t want to go back on the HBC. There’s a couple of alternatives to birth control, and they work. I’d be more than happy to take valium whenever I feel the PMDD making me want to burst into flames, if only it didn’t make me sleep. There’s one alternative, but it’s a tad illegal (unless it’s for medicinal use, and that’s only in some states) and well, I’m a good girl. ;) Anyone have experiences from the trenches of PMS-warfare to share?

My fellow internet users, might I inquire as to the reason everyone in this town is running around like beheaded chickens? I’m aware of the true location of their heads, just up their asses. People see a hurricane MIGHT hit Galveston and end up pumping all the gas they can into their SUVs² There are cars lined up for blocks in either direction to hopefully get a drip of that fuel, with their ENGINES STILL RUNNING. I heard about a car being toppled to its side when its owner “cut in line” at a gas station.

To make matters worse, the media isn’t helping this “crisis” at all, in fact they played a part in starting it all–though I do hold the fine citizens of our city accountable for believing the hype)–for example, The Tennessean, in their reputation of outstanding journalism, are reporting with a LIVE camera mounted outside of an Exxon station.

These past few weeks have been a perfect illustration of our dependence upon oil. Go buy a bicycle, a Vespa, a Segway, or hell, even a donkey, just stop sucking the gas from the pumps and spitting the dollars into the corporation’s hands.³ I plan on getting a bike for nearby trips, and hopefully I’ll be getting a compact car for Christmas. I’d like to do more, like ride a bike everywhere, but unfortunately I have physical limitations (can’t be exposed to sunlight much, and can’t exert certain body parts unless I want to end up in the hospital with a morphine drip), or get a hybrid (I’d really love an electric car, I watched Who Killed the Electric Car? and fell in love) but hybrid’s are in short supply and are expensive. So for now, I’ll stick with cutting out unnecessary trips, supporting “green” candidates, and keeping the AC a few degrees higher than the norm.

Oh, and if the LHC swallows the earth, which I highly doubt it will, what’s the problem? Being sucked into a black hole sounds like the best way to die! You get to die along with everyone else, so you’re not missing out on anything, you’re not mourning the loss of anyone else, and nobody is mourning the loss of you. You’re all dead. Together. That’s pretty cool.

For now, I’m off to get some Mike & Ike’s.

¹ Also known as Nashvillian Logic.
² I drive an SUV too, but at least it’s small and we’re selling it.
³ I sound like a hippie. At least I’m not wearing flowers in my hair…though I haven’t showered in a few days and do own some very long and flowing skirts.