Baby Gummy Bear

I woke up today at 1:36 pm to the sound of pre pubesent chuckling from the room mate next door. I tried despratly to stay asleep. Brian had already left and I was struggling my way through a confusing dream. I had a dream that I had a baby, a real life 9 lb 4 oz baby. A baby that chuckled when I tickled it, cried for me when I let the room, fell asleep in my arms. I held it's head as I put it to rest.
And then all of a sudden I had a green gummy bear that somehow represented the baby. I took a bite for some reason and then I flipped the fuck out because I thought I had just eaten the head off of my baby, the same head that I had just carefully laid to rest. It was now in my stomach. I knew I shouldn't have read that article about the naked man eating some guys face off.
I spent the rest of the dream scrambling aorund asking people if they knew what I had just done "Is this normal, was I supposed to do that? Is that part of parenting? Will it grow back?" were some of the questions I bombarded random middle class folks in the background of my brains atmosphere.
I tried to stay asleep to make sure the baby grew back. I waited aorund day and night for what seemed like weeks but were merely a few minutes. It's head never grew back, and I decided to wake myself up from this awful dream, not to mention the giggling room mates weren't making the dream less easy to escape.
It was haunting though, to hear them. I couldn't, for some reason, stop thinking about what I had done. I knew it wasn't real, but I'm talking about those very few first moments when you wake up and your questioning weather or not that dream about you becoming a witch was really true and if your cat can actually talk. For those first few moments of this morning I wanted to ruin the laughter, I thought they were laughing at my loss, but thankfully the moment lasted only 4 seconds, tops.
Instead my head filled with my inner parent waiting at the front door for me to come home, only the parents in my head are waiting for me to come back to sobrity until they start to yell at me, reminding me of the fool I really am.
"I can't believe you said that to her, what were you thinking? I hope she doesn't remember" and " God I hope he doesn't think I meant to do that, it was totally an accident" or my favorite, the ever-so confiding parent "your such a fucking dumb ass, how do you have friends?"
Luckily I didn't really do anything last night, so when I tried to catalogue through the recent events, no evidence was collected, but it was replaced with other evidence from the night before last.
I scanned my room for any trace evidence of an attempted disaster, none taken. Only empty 40 oz bottles cuddled around various chairs along the room and my clothes from the day before.
I eventually got myself up, but all day this dream has been getting to me, and for lack of embarrassment if I had told someone else, I told you instead. Keep it a secret, and let's never talk of it again. I hate being good at that.

Starting the Zine...

I've been wondering lately why it is I set myself such a high bar and expect to climb over it somehow within a day, and if I don't my lack of self confidence goes even further down until I put myself in a rut of utter self hatred and pity. I don't mind the self hatred, it's the pity that I hate. Why should I find myself pitiful if I don't succeed as quickly as others? 

And that's what it really is, I've been in a state of envy for months on end with a girl I am friends with on the old (yup you know it) Facebook. Every time I check, which is far too often, there's something new she has to tell everyone about her awesome life. About going to shows, HER art shows, her publicity features, her new professionally published zines, then I realize I have nothing to say for myself. I am just sitting here..on Facebook, checking it yet again. I'm not saying she's not awesome, cause she is.

That's the trouble, I see other girls that are awesome and I get scared to remotely be inspired rather than begrudging the person. It's easy for me to love famous girls and be inspired, for some reason it feels like a made up character that I'm supposed to love, someone was created for me to be inspired by, but in all reality those girls are just normal girls too, but when I actually know some one and I can physically shake hands with them, or electronically poke them, it seems like since they are in my reach the same opportunities should be in that same distance for me too. 

Do I think I reserve it? of course not, another problem of mine. Self worth. Some times, like these times, I need to stop interacting with my world and look around at it. On my right, my beautiful singer sewing machine awaits tomorrow for me to use it again, I am surrounded by amazing prints to work with, I look up to see a full rack of mix tapes I had made along with a tape of my band and another tape I had an awesome time helping to put together, a whole night dedicated to making tiny little paper bags and finishing them off with 2.25 stickers that we had saved up over the years. to the left of that my drawings hang, flipping me off for not believing in myself (and that's what I drew) to my left, my favorite cat int eh world sleeps until I'm done with the computer and then she will come and cuddle up with me while we watch t.v.. In my room also a book case with all of the zines I had made, under that a trunk full of dresses that I've made. And then about now I'm saying what the fuck? I should be int he paper! Why aren't people paying any attention to all of the work I put into my art? Uh oh- here it comes-….does it all just really suck?

No! You get e-mails from around the world from girls telling you how amazing your work is, how much they want everything in your store, how they want to be doing what I'm doing. And there it is- it hits me. I want to be the inspiring girl, I don't want to be in the public eye, I just want to inspire the girls that get there, and hey if I make it along the way than hooray. but does that mean I can't be inspired by other girls? No, why do I think that way? I'm scared of being notice, I'm frightened that someone might see my impersonation of another girl and think "she's not her own person" or " why can't she act like herself ever?". I'm forever acting like myself, only myself is a hermit, a shy shy hermit, and how do you show who you really are that way? 

So I'm making a firm decision to start a magazine I've been dreaming about for about a year now called "Stains" mostly for accidental self conscious broke girls, a magazine for girls to read and feel good about themselves afterward. Fashion magazines hardly bring me up when giving me advice to keep my boyfriend in the bedroom, or style tips for an outfit under $100, and other alternative magazines make me feel like I'm doing something wrong with my life by staying in for the night, almost every night, and they make me feel uncomfortable after seeing pages of half naked slutty hipster girls that started their careers in American Apparel ads.

 I just want to see a normal girl, a girl that loves fashion, music, food, friends, life, love but also has a normal life. School on Mondays from 1-4 and Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays from 6-9 pm, she studies at home, hangs out with friends on the weekends, has pet peeves, poops, eats meat, and doesn't think she's the hottest shit in the city. A girl that is inspired by inspiring other girls, that's who I want to meet, and already I have a great crew, a couple of great friends of mine have agreed to help me with this project, and of course they are those same girls I was just talking about. Hopefully you'll find this inspiring and would like to send in an article, everyone is accepted :)

This month we are looking for articles , art, photography, fashion photography , etc…from girls (or boys) on Inspiration. Anything you would like, if it's inspiration from within, from another girl, a famous person, your mom, your inspiration wall, anything will be accepted. Have fun 

Please send your articles to:

Rambuncious_child@hotmail.com

or e-mail for P.O. box # if you have a hard copy

Thank You!!!

Runaway

I am going to make this post a little different, I'm going to talk a little bit more, if you don't mind. I've been going a little crazy lately, in need of a ..it sounds bad when I say a friend because I have the best friends anyone could ever ask for, but i think that's also what I do mean. I have secrets about myself it feels like.
Out of all of my closest friends I am the only girl.... or am I the girlfriend of the really good friend in the group? I get treated like girl, and not a lady, if that makes any sense. That's not really my big concern, but it does float to the top of my brain every once and a while. People make assumptions about me based on my gender, but hell I'll slap box you and kick your ass, and afterwards I can talk about ANTM for hours if anyone would listen.
I've always felt awkward about my gender, growing up I loved playing sports, getting dirty and wearing jerseys, but then I got to a point where I wanted to be a girl that boys found attractive, and that wasn't going to happen until I took a shower and brushed out my hair. Middle school I really struggled, I got more into punk rock and started doing weird things to my hair and clothes, again finding myself completely unattractive to anyone else.
Ninth grade I started high school wearing make up , short skirts and ripped tights, dyed my hair blonde and found that lots of guys liked me, to the point where I decided, "hey why not date them all?"
That lasted for about a week until I felt horrible, I realized I liked all of them as a friend and I broke up with all of them. They were all into pop punk, the same shit as I liked, so I felt more comfortable and brought my "punk" clothes back out and dyed my fresh blonde hair. I felt like Dolly Parton showing off her coat of many colors, I was instantly labeled as a poser and spent the rest of that semester with no friends until I changed schools for the Spring. I started this school as myself, I was back in San Francisco and felt alright to dress however I liked.
The conundrum ... no boys. Ahhhh life for a teenager is so hard, it got worse as the years wet on and I started to go to school in Palo Alto, where I gave up and dropped out of school. I wouldn't say that boys is the reason why I dropped out either. If you haven't found this out from reading thus far, I've been to 14 different schools growing up, none of them were on the same track or page and sometimes I felt like I knew something and didn't pay attention and then other times I went come feeling like the dumbest person in the world.
Friends were hard to make and keep, my father for the most part stayed in San Francisco, but my mom had me going to school in Richmond, Antioch, Hercules, and Crockett. I'm only friends with those people on facebook (for some reason).
So back to the "gender issue" ...I just don't know how to deal with it still. I don't like being treated like a girl, but when I find myself acting like a typical one I ask to be excused or listened to.
I need a friend, one that wants to listen to me. I feel like I have so many secrets. I just want to talk to someone. Its hard when the person you spend day and night with has already heard your non sense, and you feel like they just don't want to hear it anymore. When he asks me why I'm crying I have no answer for him, I just keep holding it in, and it just makes me cry even more.
I need someone's advice, someone that knows me to tell me what I'm thinking isn't wrong, that I shouldn't have to feel so trapped and lonely all of the time. I feel like I've said this a million times but, it's one thing to feel lonely and actually be alone, it's another to be with someone you love, and their arms are free of you when your feeling the most alone. You tell them how you feel and they just sit there, your crying and they just sit there, watching you. You have nowhere to run, your trapped in that room. No walk cause then it's "where are you going" and then a game of follow the leader, can't go to the bathroom cause there's always a room mate doin' something in there, can't just hide underneath your sheets cause he's just there, sitting on them.
What do I do? I've been thinking about moving to England more and more each day. It's been my secret plan for a few months, but now I can't stay focused in class, I'm just drawing up my ideal life in England in my head
I walk into a liquor store, head for the back, grab a whatever sized of whatever beer, come back up to the front counter..
"two pounds"
"right!"
And then my reality shifts and I'm back in a CCSF classroom.
Or I'm walking down the streets, right, and the cars are buzzing to the right of me, but ...wha? blood'y hell! the cars are going the same direction as me!
I only went to England for 2 days all together and these are just things that happened to me while I was there. It was also my first 2 days in Europe in my life so I kept doing the history view thing, where I was like "whoooaaaa can't you imagine like...peasants here like whacking grass or something?" hey...I was a little sick from the plane ride, so I wasn't being too smart about it.
Just talking about it for 2 small paragraphs has made me so much happier! One day. I'll runaway. For now...class.