Dear God IT'S ALIVE

*cue dramatic thunder and pipe-organ music*

Anywho, yes, I am alive despite not posting to this blog in a while. Sorry. Bad habits die hard. For the numerous people invested in my life- oh. Wait.

Sorry, that's supposed to be sarcasm. But people are, supposedly, reading this blog now? Why, I've no clue, but their presence is not unacknowledged or unappreciated. Shout out to the lovely ladies Kristen and Miranda for enduring my teenage ennui and far-too-purple prose! Everyone who reads this blog deserves a ton of ice cream for their troubles. Though Ms. Claire may get 2 cartons because I think she puts up with the majority of my teenage idiocy. (Thanks Claire c :)

Ben & Jerry's for everyone!! Or whatever your preferred ice cream brand is < 3

But update! Things are better here at Casa de Alice. My mother has come to the realization that I'm not socially stunted, my aunt is off on a weekend getaway and my sister is as adorable as ever. And, apparently, not going to college. Or at least not yet.

My mother and I had one of our Talks tonight. The Talks aren't like the "Birds and the Bees Talk" insomuch as they're really awesome, impromptu discussions that just sort of happen and end up leaving me feeling happy and optimistic. You can see some of the aftereffects of another such Talk here and here. But we talked about the divorce and how awesome today was (the whole family [save for my aunt] watched the 70's movie of The Great Gatsby, with Robert Redford and Mia Farrow in it. We took a shot of sparkling grape juice every time we heard "Old sport") and a lot of other things.

for you ♥

I think
I am in love with you?
and darling, for me
that’s something quite new

I’ve never done this
so do please forgive
if I blush when you notice
just how widely I grin

and of course it’s for you
my one and only love
that I smile and skip
(you make me feel overwhelmed)

and I do hope you’ll forgive
if I stare at you too long
but features like yours
deserve their own theme song

which is silly, I know
but I’m a silly girl
and I’m sorry if it’s a bother?
But you’re my whole world.

so do please forgive me
(this is something quite new)
But I’m a reasonably certain
that I’m in love with you.

love letters.

You write to her every day. Sometimes it's little things, like "You're the loveliest person I've ever seen". But some times, you write pages and pages. Word after word spilling out of your heart, bleeding out red ink onto the lines of your torn notebook paper. Sometimes, if you think she might like one of them, you fold the page into an envelope and slip it through the slats of her locker.

Tape it to the top of her desk.

Wrap it around her water bottle at lunchtime, when her back is turned.

You always scribble a heart on the peak of the envelope, forcing the heart to split in half once she opens it. Lets her break the crease on your ever-quiet heart, lets her hear the words you're too petrified and too mystified to speak aloud. 

Sleeping Beauty Clobbering her "Prince"

I give up.

I do. I give up.

I give up on daydreams and Prince Charmings and happily-ever-afters. I've always kind of berated myself for considering those ideals anyway, but never enough to stop my subconscious from dreaming of "The One". I could hate myself for it, but I could never really stop fantasizing- don't all girls? We want something perfect, something solid in our chaotic worlds of hormones and emotions and uncertainty. We want something we can never get, and it only ever ends in decent guys trying their bests, and failing spectacularly.

But there aren't even enough decent guys! Just boatloads of assholes, douchebags, womanizers, etc. etc. They never even try to fit that ideal, and for good reason: Women want unattainable perfection, in the same way, I suppose, that men do. They all want their respective perfect fantasy women- typically reminiscent of Victoria's Secret "Angels". But hey, to each their own and all that.

Juliet Wins out the War

My sister's boyfriend just left our house for the last time.

Somehow this entire situation, the last few days and this morning, felt akin to a war movie of sorts. Surprise attacks from the "enemy side", "peace treaties" offered and refused. Then the "general" calling the "enemy" before the "battle", because apparently their husband has a confrontation issue. Gotta give it up for projection.

Anywho, I've been on the sidelines this whole time. An uninvolved bystander, to this cheesy remake of Romeo & Juliet. And it's confusing, to say the least. But I do know that he just left for the last time, that all those afternoons and movie nights out with my sister and him have ended, are never coming back. He was an extraordinarily nice guy; smart, but not egotistical about it. Didn't mind my "tagging along". He was a great guy, and I was happy for my sister. But I will never really be able to comprehend the pattern of... love, so to speak? I guess thats why I'm still just a bratty little, "teenage" girl. Does it ever get easier? Do the plots ever clearly reveal themselves? Will I ever shut up?

Probably not.

But I have concluded that I am an egotistical hypocrite. I'm also a pyromaniac author, apparently, so lets just say I am one huge mass of contradictions and try to return to the topic beforehand.

I can't help but wonder how things are going to be, from now on. What will my sister's next boyfriend be like? What will her ex-boyfriend's next girlfriend be like? How long will it be before my sister gives me a genuine smile? A blissful laugh? What's going to trigger the influx of memories in a few days? Weeks? Months?

Why do I write about romance, when faced with situations like these, I swear never to involve myself with love?
Hence the hypocritical mass of contradictions.

But when I hugged him goodbye and whispered "I'm sorry", his eyes were red.

Romance vs. Companionship

"It kinda pokes fun at being romantic for the sake of avoiding being lonely."
~Adam Young, talking about "Deer in the Headlights"

When I watched the above video, and heard that part, I froze for a second.

There's a line I have on a profile somewhere, "I am a hopeless romantic with a cynical outlook on love, but at night I fall asleep to dreams of charming smiles and twirling on star-lit beaches." I am constantly daydreaming of romantic situations and dashing, modern-day Prince Charmings.

Is the only reason I do so. . . beacuse I'm simply lonely?
It makes a lot of sense.

Somewhere better.

There's a girl in some big city somewhere, who falls asleep to screaming sirens and honking cars, too-loud laughter and clinking wine glasses.

In a small town somewhere else, there's a boy who drifts off every night to the chorus of frogs and crickets, wind-rustled leaves and old floor boards creaking.