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.

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend"

I hate to be predictable.

1. I am not materialistic. I'd much rather feel your companionship, love, understanding, and interest in me past any gift you could EVER give me.
2. My mom just gave me diamond earrings on white gold screwbacks for my graduation from college!!

I'm sorry, but they're effin gorgeous. Now that I've put them on, they will NEVER come off. It's funny because I'm given the opportunity to gush about them constantly at work. My mom informed all her co-workers about the gift in advance, so now that I'm here, they all want to know how I like them and how they look. AWESOME.

Today's date is December 14th. Christmas shopping done to date: None. I just got some money not long ago, I'll see what I can do. Need to do the normal budget thing and see what's up with Christmas lists circulating. I'm excited to spend money.

You know, my boss's boss just walked by and jokingly asked me if they were just paying me to "blog". Yet, he's never seen my blog open at work, that's too funny, cause at the time he asked, they really were.

Doesn't everyone know what UBS is?? A little something I like to call, "Ugly Fat Bitch" syndrome. This is when someone has been dealt a bad hand of cards in life, and because of this, they feel they have the right now to take it out on those around them.

Ex. I worked with a raunchy girl named Morgan. Morgan came from humble/trashy beginnings. She was homely, living on her own, dating a married man, possessed a long nappy braid down her back, and a cook at Denny's. I barely talked to Morgan, but she hated the shit out of me. She was actually younger than me, but noticing I was spoiled and lived in a bubble, she took it upon herself to be a bitch. AH, we've already found two ingredients. Ugly + Bitch. So, I'd be gregariously taking care of my tables, having a grand night at Denny's, and some drunken customers were innocently ask, "can we get, like, a larger portion of cheese fries?". I'd be like, "No, I'm sorry, see Morgan back there?? She's got ugly bitch syndrome." She'd never give large portions, cause she was ugly.

:)

You'll never really get the flippant tone of this blog unless you know me.

Me.
"Shark... swallow ye whole."

I like waving at cops.

You know, tonight I threw on some techno and lit some candles/incense. I used to catch a lot of flack for trying to be romantic with myself through lighting candles at night. For me, candles CAN BE romantic, but in general, I like them mostly when I feel bothered, or just want to chill. I think this is due to the fact that I spent most of my adolescent life either single or just by myself in my room. Therefore, candles manifested themselves in my life, as a more relaxing tool. The only thing more relaxing for me than candles and music was locking myself in the bathroom.

Do you think the cops take the wave as suspicious?

I know that's a bit odd, and I know you're either thinking "aww, that's sad" or "what a freak". Truth be told, the bathroom was about the only place I could be alone that had a LOCK on the door. My bedroom never had a lock on it. Plus, something about lying on the cold hard floor in the dark just composed me. I always thought that if worse came to worse, I could just move in the bathroom. I figured I had all the necessary heath items plus a toilet and water! Sounded good to me sometimes. I guess every child needed their "secret place" that was personal, and mine, well it was the bathroom.

I like to try to do my best at "acting" natural when cops pass me.

Today has been a phenomenal day. This morning my play went terrific, and now, all I have to do on Tuesday/Thursday morning is show up and wait for my play to be performed. SWEET! Plus, I 4.0ed the most recent paper, as I did the last one. However, this recent one OUTDID the first paper... because the first paper I actually did get one point off, but it wasn't enough to knock me to a 3.5. ISS was just as fun as usual. I love Jill and Anatol. I couldn't EVER survive class without the two of them. I think I'd sleep.

I've been pulled over 3 times in Lansing for not having my lights on.

I think it takes a woman real secure in her "femininity", so to speak, to write a blog on the "Man-ish" aspects she possesses. Therefore, here are preominant ones of my personality.

I don't like to sit down while I eat. I could walk around the kitchen, lean on the counter, whatever, during the WHOLE meal. Unless it's chinese, then the leaning principle is just null and void.

If I spill something, depending on where and what it is, I'm most likely to lick it up. Prime example: Eating ice cream the other day, I spilled a drop on my shirt... once the obligatory expletive was out of the way, I proceeded to pull the shirt towards my mouth. Within a SECOND the blot of ice cream was gone. Note: this only works on certain fabrics that aren't very absorbent, and kitchen tables.

I have no facial beauty regimen. That's right, I know males with more steps to taking care of their skin than I have. I wash my face with bar soap, and I use toothpaste to dry up the blemishes. Cavewoman, I know, but it really only stems from the fact that my skin is randomly oily enough to have such harsh cleansing methods.

I'm a shit talker. Apparently, this isn't exactly the most endearing quality on a "lady". Many a male has been put off by my shit talking skills. What can I say? It's part of the intimidation factor, however, I do realize that if you don't understand it, and ARE put off by it, then I don't want shit to do with you anyway. Everyone used to be jealous of my old roomie Jenn, cause the boys loved her. However, I realized that all those "boys" that flocked to her... psssh, I'd spit on them.

This is how masculine my best friend is.

Lonewolf5607: Dave Mustaine is really amazing
diosadeFuego: oh yeah?
Lonewolf5607: Yeah
diosadeFuego: you want to fuck him more than david arquette?
Lonewolf5607: ...yes
diosadeFuego: lol
Lonewolf5607: hottest guy ever was Brandon Lee
diosadeFuego: Ah
diosadeFuego: he was hot
Lonewolf5607: fuck yeah
diosadeFuego: not so much in the make up
diosadeFuego: lol
Lonewolf5607: His smile was so charming and charismatic too
diosadeFuego: You're such a queer
diosadeFuego: LMAO
diosadeFuego: but it's true
Lonewolf5607: I know ::shrug::

Awesome. I hope he gets a chance to read this, and send it to his friends!!

Haha, but really, I'm thinking tomorrow I'll delve into the wonderful world of "girly" aspects. Yeah.

See what I can do. Turns out lately I've been disappointed in the progression of this blog. However, I've been none the less disengaged in getting motivated to write in it. Am I being too self absorbed in my life in the present, to sit down, start some cognitive processes regarding it, and then write it all out? Whatev. Proposal rewrite due tomorrow. Need to seriously look into the American Feminist Revolution to have something to compare the Puerto Rican women's one to. Self absorption lately? Maybe not.

I'm OUT, like Steve at a Gay Pride rally!!!
Me.

Randomness about me, just to fill the void in my life at this moment.

Currently watching: Willy Wonka

I watched the "House of Sand and Fog" earlier, not even the whole thing. Just maybe... the last hour or so. Cried like a little baby.

I cry easy at movies. Clearly demonstrated, as I posted already, when I watched "The Notebook". I bawled throughout the entire movie almost. Walked out of the room eyes all puffy, looking like I got beat in the face with a wet towel wrapped around a potato. This way it made a real difference when heartless little Deanie and Jenn told me that move didn't make them cry at all.

I'm an asshole at the bus stop. Is anyone else noticing the recurring theme that I tend to be an asshole a lot of places?? In any case, the bus stop. Generally around peak class times, let's say... 10:20s and 12:40, which I happen to both, the bus station is hoppin to put it mildly. Sometimes, it gets so filled at the Landings, Village, and Crossing Place, that once it gets to my building, The Club, not everyone gets on, or gets a seat. People that wait at the bus stop tend to stand behind whomever they arrived after. That's kind of nice, but I'm not here to make silent friends through respect with the people at the bus stop. I need to get to class. Therefore, if there are a lot of people crowded around the stop, I simply walk around the side and plant my ass in front of all of them. It's their own fault if they don't stand there themselves. Deal with it.

I wish Madonna would stop trying to put out albums.

I can't wait until summer 2007.

I'm terrified of my student teaching internship.

I say I "love" Chinese food, but I generally eat just Almond Boneless Chicken, which isn't even real Chinese food.

I think Kevin Bacon is SO cool, for no real reason. If I could get a lifesize cardboard cut out of him, it'd be so SaWeet!

I was a bitch in highschool, and I hated most all the other pay school kids.

I LOVE incense, the thick hand dipped stuff you get at head shops.

I want my kids to start learning a second language or two when they're born.

I'm CRAZY about crossword puzzles.

I don't really like them persay, well Dave Matthews I DO, but I really respect what DMB and Alicia Keyes do. So, I guess I respect and love DMB, but ONLY respect AK.

I saw Munkie from Korn throw up on stage.

I don't drink beer.

My favorite Daria character is not Trent, but rather "Sandy", the President of the Fashion Club.

I have not seen the last 10 cds I put in my changer in almost a year now.

I wear Chance perfume by Chanel.

I like scented garbage bags.

St Patty's before last, my old roommate and I were given 20 bucks each to make out across a table for less than a minute.

I am known as the "master forger" at the Insurance Agency.

I eat ketchup on my steak, and I LIKE IT.

I'm secretly happy with my big nose, and more discontented with the rest of my body than anyone knows.

I just won a free bar party, from a bar I have been to once in my life, and NOT in the last 2 months.

When I hang out with my Mexican friends, they call me "token white girl".

I think the word "gook" is about the funniest word I've ever heard in my whole life.

I've never really watched the end of La Bamba. It bothers me. I like to think it's just a nice little story about a chicano who revamps an old Mexican classic with what he feels his American rock n roll. In doing so, he appears on bandstand, gets his white girlfriend back, and buys his mom a house. That's it. And that plane with the Big Bopper and the other guy... never happened.

I like looking at myself in the mirror while I'm on the phone.

I'm still paying for cutting my hair back in December...

I am NOT into that "I play guitar and am a deep interpretive tortured musician who write poetry and lyrics" bullshit.

I don't understand how a song can have "ho" bleeped out, but not the N word. Btw, I will always refer to it as the N word. Lol, you might catch me sing it real quick, but I'll never ever on my own speak it. I'm white. Can't do it. Out of a white person's mouth it just has always meant hate.

This Christmas I'm SO getting paid to eat free steak again!!

When I with my cousins/brother is generally when I laugh so hard I'm about to cry.

I want to go back to visit Lake Misaukee for 4th of July so bad.

That's about it for now, kiddies.


Michele
"He's all surface"