Six Things That Alex Has Learned From Six Boys Lips. (repeat with 3 boys added)

1. From Miguel I learned that counting your steps makes it easier to find your way home, and nothing is better once you're there than a nap...And a letter, that's bomb.
2. I was told by Mannie that comfort can come from your two thumbs rubbed against your bottom lip, and that you are never to old for a blanket.
3. From Andy I learned...That punk rock boys with emo glasses are so hot, but also emo-tional fuckwit perverts.
4. From Owen I discovered that the only way to "dress sexy at my funeral" is to wear dickies, converse, and a strokes t-shirt, and that if you want to be a speed racer it's important to make the noises "vrrooom, vrrooooom. It's my turn. I want to go!"
5. From Ben I learned that if you order an Italian soda without cream it's a French soda, and that coffee isn't always meant to be coffee.
6. From Nick I read that " Love is only as good as it's victims. Who, like dying soldiers, live only for moments". And that there is such a thing as "bitch and wine."
7. From Mischa I learned that the sounds of the ocean and pot aren't the only good things to come from California, and that four year olds can look cute any where even next to a keg....Oh and that Santa Fe is not a town, its a city.
8. From Renzo I learned that sometimes if you love someone you have to let them go...And that when someone really loves you they never have to "deal with you" they only "care"...Oh and that "conijito" means little rabbit, and that I probably don't dislike all small dogs, and if I ever met a small little white dog I might pick it up and hug it. (with out a sinister plot to squeeze it to death)
9. From Jav I learned that coffee can just mean coffee, and that simply is the best way to live and end a letter

Sometimes to much happens to say anything....

so here's another picture of me:
http://www.hummingbirdmusiccamp.org/staff.shtml
(Narcisissm is a healthy fall back in times of stress I found one can always depend on the beauty of one's self.)

The Letter Just Wont Come...

I had my monthly heart to heart with David. Its always good to have an acquaintance that you talk nothing but secrets with. Its really quite a lucky situation we never plan it, its never intended we just run into each other. It just happens to always be at a good time. Its a win win situation, I get gossip and spill my soul. (Of course I never say what I hear because that would ruin our confidante.) I do terribly enjoy them and always hope for the next one that I either have all my problems solved, have figured out a solution to his, or more realistically have made a horrid mess out of everything so I have something really good to tell!

I"ll Follow You Into The Dark

There are too many "romantics at heart" and too few "romantics at praxis"

been so busy I havent had time to think that I might be lonely...

that's the Story of My Life

I feel like writing but don't know what to say. Cigarettes are bad. That's a start. They not only symbolize the killing of ones lungs but also the tragedy of confused loyalties.

I gave cigarettes up and don't take them...Generally. Only when the need (love) is there. Not love of cigarettes either. Jav has another....But Id still smoke like a chimney in front of him.

Its Like I've Always Figured

a week till I go home...I practice violin everyday. My fingers hurt from playing. Which is how I know. It's how I know my heart is still in the land of enchantment. (watch out dusty winds may exist)

i love people who look oddly like their dogs.

Starting Somewhere Slightly Odd.

I would just like to thank Ben Rogers for the text messages:

TEXT MESSAGE NUMBER ONE (sent Sept. 28 at 12:17 AM): "yo Alex! I heard you were tre pissed that I didn't respond to your b-day voice mail. I apologize a hundred-thousand times and I prostrate myself before your beautiful visage."

TEXT MESSAGE NUMBER TWO (sent Oct. 6 at 1:59 AM) "Alex, I was at a party tonight and I tried my damnedest to get with two awesome girls, and failed utterly. How do you like to be picked up at a party?"

aren't they fantastic?

Ryan Hood, Lost Lingo, and The Curbside Profit....amazing!

A Person Worse and Better Than In My Dreams

I keep odd things. A poster from the three minute film festival that Owen won forever ago. A monkey that I secretly think is hideous that Thales gave me. And rocks from Italy. My favorite thing in my room that I take everywhere with me is that blue bag Thales gave me that says "Si tu veuse un ami apprivoise-moi!" and in it are letters, from everyone important to me or letters that meant something at one time.
a postcard with Seattle on it.
a valentines day card that says all the dates of the year on it saying "I love you on 8th of July"
a letter with obscure acting references.
a post it telling me not to use it for evil, but only good like beer.
a love note.
two cards about another Alex H.
a letter from Italy.
The Album cover to Jav and Miguel's CD guess which one signed it
The play list to the first mix CD I ever got.
a birthday note about a naked Christina
a love /sorry card for nothing really bad of course.
a simple note.
a last piece of paper in his house note.
a "you secretly mean little to me note"
a note about christo
a " I will never forget you bullshit note"
The lyrics to Today.
a sweet/sad note about how she doesn't know me anymore, but that she hopes the sun and stars still shine.
a letter from campers.
a letter to watch out for rapid squirrels
a quote from Shakespeare.
a post card from japan with pictures of peace signs.

I have always been able to manipulate people into breaking my heart.

One Good Thing About Music...

All day today I have felt that something was missing. I am at school and maybe its just the lack of people but my heart...My heart in somewhere else. My heart is missing vital components to it. I feel lost, I feel lonely. (which is my ultimate fear besides indecision, and being a monster.) I feel a lack of confidence, of self assurance. For the first time in a long while I don't know the right answer. I don't know what comes next. I do not know what to do.

I'm scared. Scared that I will loose contact with people I've grown to love. Scared that I will throw away something for nothing. Scared that I will loose what I have worked so hard to gain. I'm scared.

I take each day, day by day. And try to remember the best advice I've been given in a while:
"Anyway, enjoy the music, and always remember to live the moment: Life is grand; Love, real, and beauty, everywhere. Always and simply"
But every now and then I think ahead or I cannot remember. Its fear that drives me, and once again I can feel the panic settling in...and I am scared of its presence.

ahhh camp (or camp artistic)

vulnerable is what I am.
Tears brim to the surface, overflow, fall hit the ground.
I try to catch them with my fingers so they are clandestine.
"don't screw me over...please." I whisper too silently to hear
The whisper sounds like a vindictive laugh,
a laugh to enjoy the irony of a about to be broken heart,
but also to share in the bitter hatred shared by two, two many.
the river continues each tear falling between freckles,
each breath causing a pause in the path.
each plea....
"don't screw me over.."
Fear creeps into my heart, like a vine in the summer.
grows slow, slow enough not to notice until its covering the entire path.
To much is seen, always hope,
but hope is the leader of destruction, of despair.
I dream of ideals of joy and forget to watch my step.
Choose not to see the pit falls,
decide not to look over my own warning signs:
"please don't screw me over"
watch out, falling rocks ahead, next four miles.
my path becomes rocky and small
my feet begin to slip I'm wearing bad shoes,
not prepared for the pain I'm running into.
My feet and heart yell,
"please don't screw me over"
my shoes worn, souls thin, like my own from too much use
like a bum on the side of the road with a clever cardboard
"I'm vulnerable, broken hearted, and in need of food...
please don't screw me over."
all the cars pass by, some stare and remark
"poor child must of seen it coming."
poor little girl with tears in her eyes, worn soul on her feat,
a slowly hurting heart, with her non-understandable words
and tear stained dirt covered sign
with a name to blurred to read all saying
"don't screw me over...please"

Summer Time....

The six of us walk down, most hand in hand. Past the green bushes and the Virginia creeper, past the oak trees, avoiding random dying patches of poison ivy, through the ant hill and onto the rocks. Following a well warn path, that was weaved through enough time to keep an area to walk but that still had branches to make legs scratch. All with the final result of ending up at the swimming hole. It is so hot outside, the water is cold, but it doesn't matter to each body it feels good to have a different sensation than that of feeling sweat and short of breath from being smothered by the devil rays of the sun. Jump in, compare the hardness of nipples, and laugh, complain about how cold it is, only none of the six really mean any complaint. A seventh comes and begins to play guitar, summer songs, "Rocky Raccoon". One judging if its possible to jump from a boulder to the other side of the river, two others holding hands talking in whispers of only items they would understand if said any louder, one floating bye, one holding on to the other,and finally one sitting and watching. This is the truest summer.

Starting to explain

I feel a huge gap between myself and any possible person reading this...because I cannot explain every detail of camp, nor can I explain to the full extent the reasons for how much I love it. I guess its just that I can remember every single year for some purpose. So I will start by being extremely nostalgic and remember each year.

My last year as a camper was when I was 13. I went week seven, as did my sister, and to my pleasant surprise Eric Wulc. I was determined from the second I got there not to talk to him, if he didn't want to talk to me...silly stupid girl games. The first thing he said to me was "Alex, Alex hey Alex!" I walked over and said hi, him sitting under that tree by the wall and for lack of anything better to say said " I like you tennis shoes."

Square dance that night was the only night I ever truly enjoyed square dancing..Eric and I were paired together. I remember sitting at sack outs and telling this other girl about him, I remember writing notes to Susan, and most of all I remember the moonlight hike. I don't remember walking up to the falls...or being there, but I do remember walking back. Eric was pretending to be a counselor and "line trails" only he was saying something ridiculous like "watch out for poisoness jellyfish" When I walked by him though he got yelled at, and began to walk with me. We talked about Susan and Anthony and other things, but everyone else didn't matter, only this conversation did. During the dance we danced together to "with or without you", he was wearing a white shirt...it must have been filthy. At the friendship circle we held hands, like everyone, crossed right over left. He told me that if he wiped his nose with my hand I had permission to slap him.

Nothing ever happened between us, and I almost like it that way. He was a middle school crush who I will never have ruined by the unkindness of reality.

To day is the longest day of the year, every other day will be getting shorter.

"I like you because you seem so innocent...I know your not, but you seem it."

realizing you are foolish and trying to stop being a fool are two completely separate issues. Both of which I deal with it seems on a regular basis.

There are good people who hang out with bad people and are negatively influenced, which seems to be a common problem in out society. I have always been the complete opposite: I am a bad person who hangs out with very good people, there for I am positively influenced.

I am very lucky. I pretty much get whatever I want and always have. spoiled. conceded, false, everything I hate in others I find is what I am afraid of in myself.

I don't feel the same as others...I never have, I am unsatisfiable. I am unhelpable and I am fine. I don't need to change myself. I don't need to become contented with my surroundings the truth is I am content with that which I work really hard to get. I love Hummingbird and always have. I love camp, because I worked for it. I beat out hundreds of other girls to be where I am today. Those challenges which are too easy are also too easily forgotten. I have plenty of negative, sketchy qualities. But I am young and need to accept that I have a whole life to obtain bliss, and at the age of 19 I can be a selfish little slutty bitch. (oh don't act like you never thought I was one)

Maybe instead of acceptance it should only be realization but I'm truly tired of disliking myself because others tell me I should. I'm tired of considering myself slutty because I hear it, or a cunt because David says so, or annoying because I read it, or a bitch because I think that's how society would judge me.

I will be my own judge from now on and be accountable for my own actions, instead of putting my artistic manipulative talents to evil I will put them into myself, and understand that I am the person I have desired to be, negative qualities and all.

And if any person ever dares to call me a slut, a bitch, a cunt, a fuck up, and whore, a awful human being, or manipulative cancer, I will probably agree, but rest assured I'm done changing.

Taking in Deep

Cold. is the first sensation in the morning. The second is the fear that someone will hear my alarm. Turn off the sound of beeping. Turn on my computer, decide which piece of my soul to have the girls here today: decision turns out to be Jason Mraz(of course) Unfold. Open door, turn on the lights, yell at the top of my high pitched voice that still has hints of sleep in it: "Good Morning Girls! Time to get up! Get Up! Get Up! AHHHH!" walk to the bathroom pee, walk to my room, walk around lost for a few minutes knowing I should do something but not knowing what...remember I have to sweep. Teach a breakfast song, always having "YEAH!" yelled really loud at the end of it. Inspection, always a 1++. Then I Go to the wall where the flag is, jump up and recite the pledge, after the flag raises and then sing a prayer. I watch breakfast skits, involving girls singing and saying how awesome the breakfast at Hummingbird is. Decisions, decide who goes first and so on, until finally who goes last. Go eat, bring own cereal, too afraid of rice crispies... any thing that pops is unnatural. Laugh. and that is my morning. by now of course I'm pretty warm.

I constantly have my anxiety, or is that my anxiety is just more of my way of getting what I want? What I think I shouldn't want but do? The name should be manipulative anxiety.

If I were to die tomorrow what would my consolation be?
Well that's simple...but not really.

there is always what one should do and never what one wants to do.

running in circles? welcome to my mind.

and look at old photos of you.

Bulletin Board

This is what the message board on my wall says at this moment:

i want your dress Jess
-David

thank you Jess and Alex
-Mischa

i put Logan's Kimono on your couch
-Eric

Jess where are you?
-Logan

I am alive
-Mischa

I liked it

Understanding is a matter of relating.

Creativity was her name. I had the mailbox next to her. We were the type of people who were only momentary acquaintances. She checking her mail, me checking mine.She would say hello to me and I would immediately look down and mumble some response. She always had a letter to send and one to receive. they were beautiful letters with curly, long scrolling hand writing and pet names such as "darlinch" or "heart shaped muffin". Every day I would check my mail at the exact same time. three-ish, because I had devised that the mail man came around two and so three would give him time..providing he was late. It was 3:04 and I was checking my grey mailbox, with the red tab. Unconcerned with the surrounding neighborhood or the other boxes in the line.I was inspecting to futile mail I had received and noticing that my mail box needed to be repainted but I wasn't sure when I was going to be able to do this- with work and my cat I was a very busy individual. Inspecting the chipped door, when she walked up. In a graceful manor always bringing a lighter feeling with her, like that she lifted something away from a person. A scarf tied in her hair was the same color as her mail box a bright teal. I wondered if a person like her chose to match her mood with her box, or if she was always bright and cheerful. She must be always cheerful, her box was always full. Once Curiosity had gotten to me and I decided to peak in her box and sure enough it was filled with wonderful correspondence. From who did the letters come from? I wrote my friends and family and only received bills in return or short typed messages saying something to the effect of "having a great time..wish you were here...how is work..love..". I even went to the extent of trying a beautifully crafted letter, where I did my best to add bright colors and swirls, but as I approached the mail box I saw hers and somehow mine seemed grey and dull. It was like she was more of a person than eye was.

Good News

I am now alex a hummingbird head counselor. I rock

Beginning in the middle of time.

I have come to realize that escaping those character traits which you posses is almost impossible. I am still lonely, which is weird, because suddenly I'm not lonely in a romantic sense, that part of me is completely fulfilled. I'm lonely in another way...which I am not quite sure what that is yet.

Does your brain just feel empty of important thoughts?

There is this girl far away from where she understands. Trying new things, becoming serious. Getting old in ways that one has to. Doing school work, compromising values, understanding stress, becoming friends with it. Thinking she knows herself, thinking she hasn't changed and suddenly turning into this girl who doesn't know herself. She likes the same music, the same foods, but is missing parts of her that she didn't know she needed. She hears herself talk and it sounds empty, See's herself get dressed and wonders why she is wearing what she is. Truth comes with love, she strives to be a better person, but has forgotten what it means to her to be a better person. Unsatisfied with this life, but to afraid to change. Its hard to explain feeling a sense that something is missing...but what? I'm happy! I have a wonderful love, I just got done acting, I don't know what it is...

but I am missing something.

Talking To Me About Some 0% Interest

Jason Mraz made my day in his advice for valentines people. (go to http://www.jasonmraz.com/journal.html) He says quite possibly the best thing ever:
"Or use song lyrics…
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. (If you’re 4.)
Hike up your skirt a little more and show your world to me. (For advanced couples only)
I adore mi amore. (I repeat: Girls love the foreign language.)
Drop it like it’s hot. "

It just made my lifetime to know that my ultimate fantasy could come true getting a card from Jason Mraz that said "drop it like its hot!" swoon...

Interests Random

I don't like it when my feet touch things I don't recognize. When I go to the bathroom in a public place I always devise a method for escape in case I get locked in. I don't enjoy peanut butter and chocolate mixed together. I really like Jones soda, mini lantern Christmas lights, and green nalgenes. I don't like people yelling at me or yelling around me...or making me feel like I deserved to be yelled at. I love watermelon.

A is for Alex!

A is for "All by my self! Don't want to be..."
B is for Best friend in training... and miss Chitwood saying "BFIT!"
C is for conijito
D is for dropping like its hot.
E is for Eight Grade Flirtations
F is for French une du toi?
G is for giggle giggle
H is for Hummingbird
I is for I-Hop
K is for Kappa..Kappus? Kapustinsky!
L is for Lots of rice in china?
M is for "Moushi Moushi Moushi"
N is for Nose bleeds
O is for only once, or twice...OK every weekend
P is for Poem books and emotional bullshit
Q is for Quequg
R is for "Roxanne I make rha- rha- rhymes for you!"
S is for "Speechies Rock!"
T is for "Take it all bitch!"
U is for Unmeant coffee
V is for Velma Kelly. And all that Jazz
W is for "We had a son who was trampled by a ton of long horns....
X is for X-files (come on!)
Y is for Yellow glass flowers with long green stems
Z is for "Zack well were not sure what he does..exactly...drugs lots of drugs."

* If you are not sure what these refer to write the letter in the comments and I will explain in the next entry. (maybe)

There is green all around...I just have to choose to see it.

COW of the Week (And the Like)

So this year has flown by. I was thinking on it and a year ago, I was so different.I was a senior in high school, now I'm a college student. I think that in itself explains how many changes I have gone through. I think the biggest change of all is I feel less of a need to explain myself and more of a need to share myself.


My New years resolutions are as follows

1. To really pay more attention and listen when people talk.
2. To learn how to relax a bit better
3. To enjoy moments I have and realize that they are nice, try to slow things down
4. To love Renzo, but not to get ahead of myself. I love him. and for the first time in a long time I feel no need to explain that, or talk about it. I am content that I have it in myself. That's how I want it to stay.
5. The typical stuff: exercise, loose weight, try to actually eat right...all that Bridget Jones crap.

that's about it, sorry for the long absence, I was content not to talk about life for a little bit, just to live it.