Ociredef Kcirtap Leinad

Well, I told myself I would only be blogging once a week...max. Unfortunately, I am going to have to break this pinky promise to myself--just this once. Um for this blog to make a little bit more sense, you will need to quickly review a couple of daxflame's online video diary entries. Thanks.

Daniel Patrick Federico. I met him once. In a dream----and then something weird happened. I went to college. Met this girl named Tavery Swagle. This is the bowl of ice cream...she just happened to have a boyfriend. They're supposedly in 'love'? Don't ask me what that means. Must be a Bostonian thing. Now to add the cherry... DO WE WANT TO DO THAT? His name is Daniel Patrick Federico. PISSED. Potential relationship thief right thuurrr.

Anyway, I am hoping that this blog will remain private for my own sanity. I have some unpronounced feelings to spill....and some lessons to teach about this here..Daniel.


Nicknames: "Freddy" or, according to facebook, "Big guy." I'm not sure if this is supposed to imply that he is morbidly obese or purely legit. From the looks of it, or him...I'm thinking he's legit. Or maybe he just likes the Eiffel Tower.


Rumor has it that he may have a twin. One day, he was seen with the fellow pictured above. Nobody quite knows the truth......


So, he's a big shot hockey player. SO WHAT?! Who cares that he plays for a team called 'Official Website?" OR that he may be famous one day. At least I can claim that I've dreamt about him before...


There's this girl that I have mentioned above. Avery... I hear they are on pretty alright terms. Looks to me like they bring the worst out in each other. DEvils.


He has amazing taste in glasses. Although my wire rimmies kill his*


You know how you hear about those studs that enjoy long walks on beaches? Oh yeah...he's one of them. One requirement...they have to be with Avery. Having her next to him must give him this 'false sensation of power.' Oh, my name is Dan I am a manly man that walks in the sand while the sun sets. Whheeet whheet Whhhheeeeet.


Tandem biking is actually one of his more prominent skills. Enough said.


That tattoo on the blondie's arm is real AND his muscles truly are as big as they seem...


Lastly, I hear is quite the thug on the dance floor. When he gets hot, he strips. Settle down ladies. I hear is offering free 'dougie' lessons. Jump on that.

Overall, 'Big Guy' seems pretty awes. Too much to offer. Now I know why Avery is in the habit of biting her lower lip. (yes, she has three lips--lower, indicating middle).

I feel like this blog may have a part two...in March or something.

Positivity Decline

I'm sitting in bed, hating. Not anyone or anything in particular. I'm simply hating. There are so many situations in my life that I'm not okay with. Unfortunately, I have no control over them. I can wish for change....or even be an active advocate for it--but nothing's changing. There are trials that you can see the end of--usually you can spot the bright light at the end of the tunnel. Not this time, this time it's different. Anger has been added to the long list of unwanted emotions. Last time it was simply sadness that ate at me on a daily basis, this time it's a mixture. I can't decide if I just want to lie on the ground and cry, or plot a hideous murder. Neither of these things would help to me to accomplish anything--fix anything. Do I even want anything fixed? At this point, I really couldn't tell you. He will forever come and go......he's the leaving kind. I'm not sure if I have the emotional strength or the desire to fix it.

Debbie Downer's the name, don't wear it out. Most days I do okay, I forget that I have nowhere to go--that I don't belong anywhere. Sometimes my fake smile even feels real. Those are the best days. Other days, I don't care enough to try. My bed and my itunes library have recently become my new best friend. Just last night I was told "You'd be perfect if you were ALWAYS positive." Really? My bad. Please, if you can do better--Be My Guest. I keep getting told to rely on others....I should let them help me. How though? My ability to trust has recently vanished. Nobody understands. No words get the point across. My story sounds fake. Those that do take the time to listen don't care. They have a home to go to--they don't have to be invited. "That sucks..freaking glad that's not my life." Well, it's mine. Usually I can find the good in it, today I can't. Tomorrow I can only hope. Surreal. Sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming. Sometimes I wish I was.