Melted Froot Loops’ Neighborhood

Half of my books have returned home...it saddens me, but I know I'll see them again, so I dry my tears...

Today was a day to remember. Not that I want to.

I got up this morning around 10:15 AM and descended into homework. Not much different. Then my mother calls me and my day is shot to hell.

I think after that call, I went to take shower. I spent 45 minutes in the shower just thinking and crying and getting pissed at myself. Productive, no? Yeah, I thought so. Not much after, I then went to my computer, wrote a letter to my mother, and sent it. I can't wait to get her response to that one. Then I changed my status on my Facebook and now I'm on Vox, telling everyone how my day was. Isn't that exciting?

I think this is what insanity feels like. It's all the drama in the world, shoved into a little red box and kept calm until someone wants to see inside. Then they find that you're not the same purpose you were before...you were so calm, how could that madness be the same person?

Love is hard. Really hard. I'm not going to give up on it, but I think that a lot of people are going to be hurting or angry by the end of the day because this love is true. To be honest, I'm both-- hurting and angry, that is. I think there's only one person I know who is going to feel similarly, but everyone else will be one or the other, I'm sure. I wish it were so simple, but it can't ever be.

I'm sorry if this is confusing to a lot of people, but it's stated to explain what I just can't say. What I can say is this:

I love you, Kate. No matter what, I still love you, and you can thank that love for my still breathing and trying to carry on.

What do you do to ensure you get a good night's sleep?
Submitted by Jacob's Ladder.

...I go to bed and wake up within 90 minute cycles, so as to ensure I am in a decent state of wakefulness. However...that's just the ideal...I really don't do that....my bad.

You must have been a fashion victim at least once in your life. What hideous blunder did you commit? 
Submitted by Tina. 

I wore sleep pants beneath shorts, and gallivanted around my high school. And I'm proud of it! "Dope with a capitol D, baby!"

What's the best thing since sliced bread?

This question, to me, has two solid answers:

1) A book written sometime in the thrities or forties about boy who saves a lot of people from a major gasline explosion because of his heroics as he tried to find his friend Stanley. There's more to it, but the book is called "The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread." Find it and read it-- it's surprisingly good.

2) Technology. No question.

New favorite song from Incubus' Light Grenades album. Excellent.

   Due to my inability to silence my mouth and the lack of a desire to keep quiet about my beloved, I've a tale to tell.

I met my girlfriend sometime in middle school, back when I had just moved up from a little town in southern Montana and shifted north to an even smaller town in northwestern Montana (about an hour south of the Canadian border) called Bigfork. Neither of us remember exactly when--it was kind of random and lacking recollection at the time. It wasn't anything passionately dramatic--just someone you wave to, and then nothing. Over time, I got to know her better, only to once again have her fade from my memory as just another person.
   For an example of this, in our first year of highschool, we shared an earth science class. The first day, I couldn't remember her name, even after having gotten to know her in previous school years. So I told her that:

Me: Hey, I'm sorry, but I totally forgot your name.
Katrina: ...it's Katrina.
Me: Okay, sweet, Katrina...gotcha. Thanks.

   I learned much later that she was quite embarrassed by that. Go me, huh? We got to be good friends over the next few years of high school, but that's all we ever were--friends. At some mystery point, that grew to a quiet crush, but it wasn't until junior year that I even attempted anything. But what an attempt it was...
   You see, we were members of the Book Club, a small little organization that--hey, whooda thunk?-- read books. Thatwas a guise, however-- we really should've been called the Travel Club. The idea was that we would read books regarding an area we would like to visit, all the while raising money to visit that area. Well, we did it: we worked hard and earned a trip to Europe, on school time, for two weeks. There were about ten or twelve of us, and myself and a buddy were the only guys. It was sweet. For the next two weeks, we had a guided tour from Paris on down to Rome.
   However, one difficulty came up: Katrina was having some difficulties regarding that trip and I chose to step up and be the friend to try and help her through 'em-- especially since I was her only real friend that she had on that trip. I did everything I could to be just a little nicer to her, including giving her my blanket when she fell asleep on the plane to Paris. Little niceties, I guess.
   That was just the first time getting there. Once we were there, there was a chance that came up to go to the real Moulin Rouge in the red-light sectin of Paris, and Katrina thought she would be the only person not going (her mom was chaperoning with our teacher and her husband, and I guesss she had problems with her going to it). That is, until I got her attention and told her I wouldn't be going (I'm a religious man, and I had been informed the chance of seeing half-naked women parading on-stage was high-- my buddy later told me it could be called a "crazy gay rave party." So, I chose to avoid it). Suddenly, all was well. And we were the only two not going. And heck-- we still had homework to do...
  That night...we really tried to do homework. It didn't last, though, not with a TV on and two friends that didn't want to do their homework. So we talked until 1 in the morning, at first about funny things, bu then it descended into a level of seriousness I had never shared with her. It was touching, and she hugged me close for the first time as I left in time for everyone to get back.
   Time went on and we sort of fell into our dating. We weren't sure if we were at first...heck, we even discussed it and couldn't come up with a conclusion...but eventually, circumstances drove me to open up to her entirely. On the bus drive back to the hotel where we were staying, I exposed my heart to her. I told her how I felt about her, even calling her beautiful...she cried. It unsettled me--what had I done!? She's not supposed to cry...
   ...That is, until she explained that I was the first boy to tell her that that didn't want something from her.
After that, things blossomed. By the end of the second week as we arrived in Rome, we had shared our first kiss and fallen for one another. I still remember feeling dazed as I walked away after I dropped her off at her room. It was so wonderful...
   That same night, I found myself on my knees in prayer with thanks and happiness in my heart. I think I was down on m knees for almost half an hour with tears of joy running down my cheeks. I had never felt such wonder, and it filled me with hope and joy for something that would surely come.
   That was a year and ten months ago. We have dealt with many hard times where we carried each other through with our words and constant love for one another. If not for her, I would not be the same person. Many obstacles for a future together still dot the landscape, but we love each another enough to fight for everything we have found in one another. I lover deeply and always will, because she loved me in times when she could've walked out and been the better for it-- but she never did. She stayed close and helped me get through a lot of difficulties and I have struggled to do the same for her.
   She's my angel. And how I love her. :)

You're trapped in a (temporarily) out of order elevator - who would you like to be trapped with? 
Submitted by tbtissimus.

Take a wild guess....my girlfriend, Katrina, totally!

How many bones have you broken? Yours or someone else's?

I haven't broken a bone in my life, actually. Never even been to the hospital for anything, either. Except for physicals, I've never needed a doctor this far in my life. And I don't get it-- I'm pretty dumb and have put myself in plenty of bad scrapes but I seem to just slip through the wire on the "medical attention required" aspect of the thing. Coincidence? I think not!

Audio:  Share a great love song.

I gotta say-- Adam Sandler's song from The Wedding Singer, "I Want to Grow Old With You."

I want to make you smile / Whenever you're sad / Carry you around your arthritis is bad / All I want to to do / Is Grow old with you / I'll give you medicine when your tummy aches / Build you a fire if the furnace breaks / All I want to do is grow old with you / I'll miss you / Kiss you / Give you my coat when you are cold / Need you / Feed you / Even let you hold the remote control / So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink / Put you to bed when you've had too much to drink / I could be the man who grows old with you / I want to grow old with you

Simple, short, and absolutely wonderful to the ears. And it never fails to comfort my beloved's heart, I might add... :)
I love you, Kate. Always.

Ever get away with saying somebody else did it?

No-- but usually people do enough self-deluding they don't need a whole lot of help for you to get away with it, as long as your honest the rest of the time. Just analyzing, but the best way to get away with something is simply to be the least likely person, which means being the best you can until you need to be the worst you can. I know it's dark thinking-- but it's absolutely true.