Jezze

Aye aye aye.

So much drama today. Amber's boyfriend is still a dork, I argued with The Boyfriend yesterday because I like to be needy once and awhile but it wasn't happening, because appearntly I don't compete with homework, and Now K's girlfriend has broken up with her and stupid me is on the other side of the country.

Jezze. Relationships fail once and awhile, you know? The Boyfriend's got school tonight and work before that, and I don't want to text him first because honestly, I'm still upset. He did homework for three hours straight and barely talked to me, and when I tried to get attention for the last half an hour before I had to go to bed he shrugged me off. So I went to bed.

I'm not kidding. I got changed, set my alarm, got into bed and shut off the light. Because if he can shrug me off then goddamnit, I can shrug him off. My dramatic 'Fuck you buddy' was marred when my mom made me get up to walk him to the door, but I think the message was pretty clear.

K's girlfriend has been pretty much the only wedge between her and I in the course of our friendship. I've always had a bit of a problem with her, but factors piled upon one another until I went from having a problem to really not liking her. But Because I love K I only brought it up once and awhile, not every time the girlfriend of K did something I disapproved of. Which was fairly often.

K lives in Alberta, far away from where the girlfriend of K lives, which is Indiana. I think? I can't remember, because I only really remember things I like. She lives far, is what I'm getting at.

Then they decided to have an 'Open' long distance relationship. So you know, they can date other people while dating one another. This always boggeled my mind, because I am a spiteful, jealous person and If I ever had an inkling that The Boyfriend was interested in someone else, she and all her friends would be stabbed. HE IS MY THE BOYFRIEND, THANKS.

So I guess yesterday the wonderful and soul-consuming K told the girlfriend of K that no, she's not okay with an open relationship, and was basically told by the now ex-girlfriend of K that she wasn't enough. I'm very pissed off on K's behalf. I am on the verge of calling her. But you know, she works and shit. So Instead I've thrown myself into homework. And it's coming along quite well, actually.

Dying holiday, dying dream.

My dream, since I was little, was to have the best house on the block for Halloween.

I would have the fake cemetery, the creepy, billowing fabric and haunting music. My front yard would be lit in a blood-red glow while creepy, haunting pumpkins flickered with evil intent. A skeleton would laugh from my front door as the braver children led their timid friends towards the sounds of werewolves, screaming witches and snarling dogs. I would be sitting in the entryway, just out of sight from the little ones because I’ve always thought ringing the doorbell was one of the best parts. I’d be dressed in some outlandish costume, Harley Quinn or maybe some kind of zombie witch, and hand them their candy with a glare or maybe some sort of peppy but demented comeback (It’s Harley Quinn, guys.)

Then, as they made their way down the steps, my significant other (Who had been dressed as a zombie warlock or perhaps the joker) would lunge at the nearest child with a haunting laugh or maybe even a simple boo. My house would be the ultimate experience. Tricks and treats galore.

Every time someone hopped out and scared the living crap out of me on Halloween, I thought of a time when I would be that person. I would be the one who everyone talked about, the one for one night who would steal the show. Younger kids would be terrified to approach my door; older kids would point out all the important but small details to their parents. I would be the best.

I’ve held onto this dream for my whole life, since those mystical nights when I would bounce around impatiently with my little brother, waiting for it to be dark so we could go out. Every year the night would become unearthly, radiant and alive. No one was who they appeared but that was okay, because by god- It was Halloween.

I had to work tonight, so I put on most of my costume and worked until 8. In the Halloweens of my youth this was when the night was in full swing, the streets packed with ghosts and ghouls and all manner of creepy creatures. And as my boyfriend (Who one day might be the Joker to my Harley) drove me home I began to fret. Where were all the kids? The little ones who could barely get up the steps and the older toddlers with their little Halloween pumpkin buckets. I didn’t understand.

I told The Boyfriend this image I had in my head of my perfect Halloween haunt once. It was a while ago, but I still remember what he said. “Halloween is a dying holiday. You could put a rubber bat out on the front of your house and have the coolest place on the street.”

When he said it I not only refused to believe him, but got downright mad. I told him he was dumb for thinking that, because holidays don’t just die.

But as I took in the few straggling kids as they walked from house to house I became depressed. A vampire trudged with his mother along one otherwise deserted street. Few houses were lit, few creatures creeping sneakily along the sidewalks with tired parents in tow. There are so few people out there these days, and I don’t understand why.

To all you parents out there who may have stayed with me long enough to get here, please listen. BRING YOUR KIDS OUT ON HALLOWEEN. Dress them up, give then a pillowcase and haul them from place to place. Ignore the cries of ‘my feet are tired’ and ‘but I don’t want to carry the bucket!’. The few fond memories I have of my old house are the ones of shivering under my robot costume with silver face paint slathered all over my forehead, getting home and dumping all the candy on the floor to sort through it and give my dad the things I didn’t like, or swap with my little brother.

And who knows. One day you might show up at a house with billowing fabric and blood-red lights, and your child will receive some tasty treat from a woman dressed as Harley Quinn.

Say whatttt?

So I’ve decided to start a blog.

I don’t know why. Maybe because I’ve been reading This Blog and her hilarity has spurred me into action. I’m not sure what to start with…Hmmm.

So this is all K’s fault. I refuse to use her name, cause if I do and she happens to make any of her friends read this, they will know quickly and immediately that not only do I disapprove, I downright despise. Nay Nay, K’s friends. Nay nay.

K is fantastic.

Right off the bat I’m gonna let you know that I’m not a tiny girl by any means (Nor am I oprah-worthy, however. I must find my fame in other avenues…), I’m big. Big girls are much more fun, because we know that no matter what you say to us someone else in a few years or months or whatever is going to come up with a more unique and original way of making fun of us. So really, have fun while you can. One day my many children will crush you, because I have lots of sex.

ANYWAY.

Yes, K is my best friend. I found quite quickly I am horrible at making real life friends. They’re all self centered or two faced or start liking my other friends more then me. Since I can turn that into a whole blog post, I’m not going to get into it too much. But K was my first real Internet Best Friend.

It all started because I’m a huge damn nerd and write fan fiction.

Yes, damnit, I write fan fiction. Through the incredible depths of fanfiction.net I realized that there are some fucked up people in this world. For instance, my most popular work on fanfiction.net was a Buffy the vampire fic that was spuffycentric and AU (alternate universe) it was mostly song lyrics. Yes. Song lyrics in a story.

In my defense, I was like, thirteen when I started writing it and had very little comprehension of ‘Words’ and ‘Plot’. These things were so foreign to me I spent most of my time sticking whatever song I happened to like into the story.

Off topic again? Bah. This is going to be more random then I thought…

I’d written a story for Torchwood (And if you know what that is, I point at you and yell either ‘Nerd’ or ‘BRITISH PERSON’ at you) And mentioned I needed a beta because all my other potential betas were just lonely people in my head, who were no better at grammar and spelling then I was. A beta is someone who proofreads a story chapter by chapter until you curl into a ball, crying, because you are bad at wording or writing or whatever it was you happened to be trying to accomplish when you started out. Why I wanted one confuses me to this day, but through this quest I met my braintwin.

We began exchanging E-mails after she left a review on my Torchwood story,. I was honest with her and told her the only reason I was writing this particular non-graphic slash fiction was because my favorite show had to main male leads, but they were brothers, and the idea of incest did not appeal to me in any way shape or form. I believe I referred to it as ‘Squicky’.

She almost had a panic attack, because she was the same way. Supernatural was our love. Sam and Dean and the impala and bobby (Booby!) And Cas and Chuck and John! ARGH! I’m getting all fluttery just talking about it.

We then proceeded to talk more and more about us.

Me: You like Pizza, y/n?

K: Y!

Me: You like Hawaiian pizza, y/n?

K: Y!!!

Me: OMG

Yes, we’re very, very deep.

We soon discovered we like most of the same shows, adore classic rock and Nickleback but are really, very varied in our musical tastes, and our relationships (All three or so of them) were creepily mirroring one another. I was in love.

Sadly, K lives in the deep netherverse (Alberta), and only once have our two universes collided so we can talk outside of out dimension portals (The internet and phone) We were already in our second year of best-friendom when her and her family went to New York for some rest and relaxation. On the way back they had a two-hour layover in Toronto, which is an hour away from yours truly.

I took two trains and two buses to get to the airport. Then I stood (Okay, paced and bounced around impatiently) At where I thought she would be coming out with my friend Tim, who was infinitely patient and kept me company because The Boyfriend didn’t want to come (Had to work).

I was wrong of course, and she found me. Our first face-to-face conversation went something like this.

Me: HI!

K: HI!

Me: *Flails*

K: *Flails more*

Tim: *-_-‘*

Me: *Makes squeaky noises while flailing*

K: *Flails while making squeaky noises*

Tim: :0

The rest of our hour and a half visit was spent giggling and laughing and nervous shuffling. Her parents commented often on how damn alike we are. We’re fabulous.

She then returned to the netherverse, and I haven’t seen her since.

I miss my K.