Here I am in your face
Tellin’ truths and not your old lies
Seems to me that you care
And I know that you’re runnin’ out of time
See ya can’t get away
I’ll be here forever and again
Whisperin’ in your ear
Do believe ’cause you know you cannot win

Spent most your life pretending not to be
The one you are but who you choose to be
Learned to survive in your fictitious world
Does what they think of you determine your worth
If special’s what you feel when you’re with them
Taken away, you feel less then again

That’s right

You gotta mean what you say
You gotta say what you mean
Tryin’ to please everyone
Sacrifice your own needs
Check in the mirror my friend
No lies will be told then
Pointin’ the finger again
You can’t blame nobody but you

There’s a feelin’ inside
No you cannot change it right away
Gotta make it try
And with time it’ll start to go away
I’ll be here when you need
That one to sit and cry to
’cause I’m the you you forgot
The only one you know you cannot lie to

Bitter you’ll be if you don’t change you ways
When you hate you, you hate everyone that day
Unleash this scared child that you’ve grown into
You cannot run for you can’t hide from you
Can’t hide from you

That’s right

You gotta mean what you say
You gotta say what you mean
Tryin’ to please everyone
Sacrifice your own needs
Check in the mirror my friend
No lies will be told then
Pointin’ the finger again
You can’t blame nobody but you

"You" - Janet Jackson



Consistency is lacking in human nature.

I need consistency. I don't think that it's the same kind of consistency other people seem to associate themselves with.

Most people find consistency in the physical realm. Consistency that exists within constant presence and unchanging circumstances. The same reason we all know people stay in long standing dead end relationships. There's a certain comfort in that consistency, and a laziness that fuels an unwillingness to change the situation at hand. Plus, in laymen's terms, it's easier to just stick with that same person you've known for so long, rather than bother to get out there and get to know someone else all over again.

Lame.

I look for consistency of character. Someone who means what they say, and says what they mean. I want someone who treats me the same no matter who we're around, and someone who stays strong in their convictions. Not to say that he/she should be uncompromising, but know what he/she wants and how to acheive it. This would be my problem in finding people to share my life with.

I don't trust the inconsistent. If you say your friends with someone, hang out with them Sunday, come back Monday and trash talk the hell out of them, I don't want shit to do with you. Sure, a good friend can recognize your flaws, but advertisement is a whole other playing field. I'm kind of a personal sort. Most of the time, what I did last weekend, where I've been, where I'm going, and who I'm with, are all common knowledge generally. To me, those things are basic facts. I don't care who I tell that information too. It's all dry and mostly voiceless to me. But for someone to know what upsets me, what makes me cry, my insecurities emotionally and physically, and how I really feel sometimes, now THAT is important. Those are aspects of myself that can potentially be used against me, and key elements to me that most people will never ever see. And I'm fine with that. I'm not lamenting that point at all.

I'd rather be alone for the right reasons, than with someone for the wrong reasons.

And while I'm being cliche, good friends are hard to find.

I hate it when there is a difference between a person someone THINKS they are, and the person they really are. Too many people aren't cognizant of what/whom they really are. Suck. I think I'm pretty self aware. I also know my self-awareness sharpens with every year. I do know I've stayed mostly the same person I've always been. I have the consistency and conviction that I desire in others.

What plagues me at times is that to avoid more disappointment I have to learn to trust a person for whomever he/she is, and not trust them to be who I either want them to be or have known them to be. Fair enough, but if a person I'm trusting is inadequate with regards to their cognizance of their own mind... how am I supposed to know who they really are?

Damn human nature.

My mind is now tapped out from trying to process all of that, and dilligently type it out so I'm not the only one that does understand it.

-Me!
"Who knows where thoughts come from, they just appear"

Someone brought up getting blood drawn this morning.

Anyway, I started thinking about my history with the timeless process of taking blood, and this was the product.

Remember when you were little and used to get your finger pricked? Diction is key here. That's the perfect verb for it! PRICKed. Note the root word. I sure did, and I sure felt it. When I was little, the doctor could have pumped me FULL of shots, and I'd have been fine, but bring that stupid needle to poke my finger... kill me now.

I had to watch.
That was the real secret. It still hurt, but same with shots. I have to watch the needle go in. I have to know when it's coming. Same thing now when getting my blood drawn. I'm not real sure sometimes if it's a prerequisite or a pleasure. (I know, I'm not right in the head) Either way, I need to look.

**WARNING** Lame story ahead.

I was 14 the last time I went the pediatrician. Awesome. THAT alone makes this story lame. Either way, the lady comes in, I remember, she was short and heavy, she told me she wanted to take blood via the tip of my finger. She told me to pick the hand I am not affluent with, left, and use what she said her kids referred to as "the bad finger". Alright, so she's got my left hand, middle finger in the vice of her hand, and she says, "look away". OH NO, I'm intently staring, and I had already informed her I hate this process more than ANYTHING. She's like, "Psssshhhh, it's no big deal." As she hits it, the result is the loudest most audible "OW" I've ever let out in my life to this day. The nurse practically jumped away from me, it scared the pants off of her. My mom just sat there laughing. Typical.

Either way, I was thrilled when they finally started hitting up the vein in my arm for blood. I'll admit I might have felt a bit apprehensive my first time, but that dissipated within seconds of the practice itself taking place.

I figure, now that I'm a big girl, I can donate too. Why not? The "Blood Mobile" makes its usual yearly stop at LHN, and I'm thinking, "I hate first hour, I'm over 110 lbs, this is my chance!" Turns out this, "I'll do anything to get a day or so off school" attitude of mine came back to bite me in the ass more than just this once. But "Updating the Genetic Code" is a complete other story, and today we're talking about the drawing of blood. So as not to become too tangential? I'lll resume. Oh right, I signed up to give first hour. Smooth, that's Spanish class, and no me gusta Srta. I go down to the Auxillary Gym, and lie myself down on a table. The "nurse" took that HUGE metal piece and just jammed that sucker into my arm. Oh, I watched, and I can still replay it now. She was CALLOUS, but since I'm hardcore, I just threw down a wince, and took note of a friend of mine who was getting hers done at the same time. We decided it'd be sweet to see who could fill up her bag first. So everytime the nurse isn't looking, I start pumping my hand on the ball to make my blood pump faster into the bag. I won. However, I failed to realize the drawback I had created for myself... first hour wasn't over yet. So, I walk SLOWLY back over to the exit door. The nurses offer me some juice/cookies, the standard, and I said, yeah I think I'd like some, my head feels a bit... and OH MY GOSH, before I finished the word "dizzy", 3 nurses with the strength of 12 linebackers FLY over, shoving hands up under my armpits to carry me over to a cot behind a curtain. Mind you, I was only faking the whole dizzy feeling to miss class and eat a cookie. But by this time, the nurses are out of control. There are tons of people at the door, checking me out behind this curtain, lying on a cot, nurses pulling my knees up. I think I forgot to mention that I'm also BREATHING INTO A WHITE PAPER LUNCH BAG. I'm trying my hardest to stifle back my own laughter while my friends waiting to donate think I've passed out or SOMETHING.

Don't fuck with the Blood Mobile nurses. They'll getcha everytime. ;)

farewell.

Me.

Seacrest OUT.

So my sign in name is La Manzana. Pronounced like (LA mahn-zahna) Thank you, Espanol.

I love it when people say Man-zana, like a short A in the beginning, pronouncing the beginning like Man.

Does that make sense?

I don't even care. I just want to blog.

I JUST WANT TO BLOG.

Lol, easy there... ok, turning off the large text now.

I use a lot of spaces, right?

Alright, so my intention (see above) was to blog. I tried. It sucked. So, we have here, random thoughts.

I don't like blonde hair on black people.

I was forced by some challenging question this weekend to dig deep into what I believe in regards to mythicals creatures and the celestial realm. I say it like that, because mythical indicates not real, and the celestial realm has to be separated due to its existence. Yeah, but do demons cause depression? That's an interesting question. I don't see why not. Suicide=sin, MAYBE even an unforgiveable one, but is there even such a thing as that? I don't know. Just a thought.

My new favorite show is The Office, and I am definitely forcing everyone I know to watch it with me.

I like licking stamps. First few, I really don't mind the taste.

Same goes for envelopes.

I wonder if there will be drama tonight over my presence at the game, but then again, do I really care?

I'm kind of excited to be in Lansing for a bit.

I like Jason Bateman. He's funny.

I get so thrilled everytime they play "Mo' Money, Mo' Problems" on the radio.

I can rap all the words. That AND "Gangsta's Paradise".

When people ask if I'd be afraid to teach in an urban/ghetto school, I always like to say, "No, I've seen Dangerous Minds".

You think there is someone out there that is obsessed with that movie?

I'm not really into painkillers, but if I'm gonna take them, I want them to be hardcore and 3 at a time.

At work, when I get a cut that requires a band-aid, I like to just reach into the box without paying attention. It's a variety pack. :)

.... and I'm officially tired of this blog.
They weren't even GOOD random thoughts. ::shrug::

Blah.