I absolutely love the name "Odette."

There is one memory that clearly stands out among all the rest from my childhood. I'm laying in front of a fireplace, about 2 feet from a huge television set, smell of Daddy's incense in the air, paint drying on ceramics, and probably somewhere in the house a hint of marijuana (that i didn't know was marijuana at the time) and my dad telling me to move back from the TV or i'd grow up and have terrible vision. I was at my Uncle Bernie's house, and I was coloring out of my favorite coloring book, and watching my favorite movie that I only had at his house... The Swan Princess. When I think about that night in particular, I can hear my dad talking to me... and it's one of my only memories of him speaking where I actually remember his voice.

My dad was probably the best and worst father ever. He was a legitimate addict. He smoked pot alllll the time, was addicted to narcotics, and drank...sometimes. He was manipulative, and probably emotionally abusive, but he loved me, and told me so every day... most of the time more than once. he tucked me in at night, and let me crawl into bed with him after a "nightmare" that i'm sure he knew was completely fabricated so i wouldn't have to sleep alone. there were so many nights where i'd just lay next to him, reading over his shoulder, and imagining what he was reading, and how it fit into the plot. I'd always ask him to read me his leather bound Louis L'Amour books, but he said they were for "grown ups." ha. I practically was. He really loved me, all the time, but he yelled at me when he was coming down, and it was usually for no reason, or for something little that didn't deserve a swat on the butt or a slap on the hands for. I was sent crying to my room, and later on, after he had completely sobered up, he'd apologize and he'd cry and say he'd never do it again... but he did.

Anyway. He was a great dad when he wasn't high. He took me for walks, we went hunting, fishing... anything I could think of to spend time with him. I can remember him calling me his little stinker, and calling me Shelly-bug. My mom did too, but she said it differently than he did. I didn't like it when she said it, I much preferred just "shelly" from her...

Here's the problem. On New Years Day, 2001, A police officer knocked on my door. He took my mom into another room and told her something terrible, that I later learned from my grandmother. See, my mom couldn't even look at me without crying, and I was supposed to go to my grandmother's house anyway. My parents had gone through a divorce when I was really young (i'm talking like, 1-2 years) and I'd grown up around my Grandma Kyte. These grandparents were like my second set of parents, so I trusted both of them, which was unusual for me. That day, the day before my 9th birthday, I found out that my daddy, the one I loved so very much, had committed suicide. Yep, my daddy died on new years eve... December 31, 2000, only 2 days before his only daughter's birthday. 4 months later, his second daughter Sarah was born.

Now, the real reason for this blog post.

My dad has been gone for 10 years. I'm 19 now, and I don't think the pain really ever goes away. I mean, yeah, it's not the "shot through the heart" pain I had the day I found out, but it's gone to that aching, yearning pain, the kind where you have a really close friend that goes away and you can't see them, talk to them, or communicate with them for a very long time. The sucky thing is, with that friend, you can always find them, and visit them... I can't do that when my dad isn't alive. Sarah's birthday was the 15th, and I missed her party. It's the first one I've missed since (i believe) number 3. Today, I took her out for lunch, gave her a present (a college logo shirt, she loved it) and hung out with her and my mom. Tonight, my friend Jared took me out for dinner (albeit a cheap dinner, thank God, I hate it when people spend lots of money on me) and then we went back to his house to talk to his mom (whom I adore) and then usually either listen to music or watch a movie.

As I was flipping through his netflix, I came across The Swan Princess. I begged and pleaded, and finallyyy convinced Jared to watch it. And as soon as I heard the credits, I was sitting on the edge of my seat indian style about 2 feet from the screen. Somewhere, in the back of my head, I heard my dad's voice telling me to scooch back so I didn't grow up to be as blind as he was. Out of habit, i switched my position to laying down on my stomach about 3 feet from the screen, and heard a "thats at least a little better." I laughed. Jared just looked at me funny.

That's when I realized that the last time I'd seen that movie was that night... the night at Uncle Bernie's. and then I realized that they're both gone now. My Daddy in 2001, and my Great-Uncle Bernie only a year or two ago. I'd never get that smell of incense and ceramic paint mixed with the pleasant aroma of other herbs, fireplace, and crayons. I'd never hear my Daddy tell me (or my kids for that matter, when they come) that I was sitting too close to the TV. and I realized that I missed him, so much more than I'd thought.

His birthday is coming up, May 12. It's on a Thursday this year, and it happens to be almost at the end of finals week. I don't know how I'm going to get through, but I'm certain that with the help from my mom, my friends and probably a lot from my counselor, I will. And I'm not going to drink, I'm not going to smoke or anything else. I need to get past this. I need to tell myself that even though he's not here, he's still watching me, and he's that voice in the back of my head telling me i'm way too damn close to that TV and I need to back up.

I miss you, Daddy, and I love you. I'll see you later. Much later. And boyy, will you have some s'plainin' to do.



Side note: Odette is the main character in The Swan Princess. and it's a f@%#ing kickass movie. watch it. Right now. It's on Netflix Instant Queue. (Also, if you see it on DVD, and you buy it for me, I will [probably] kiss you.)

Tootles.


p.s. Happy Easter, everybody.

the possibilities are endless.

As i was looking for a long list of cliche's, i stumbled upon this.

"We’ve all heard the expression: There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Well, whoever invented that saying should have clarified that a “good catch” is rare and rather difficult to find. Yes, there was a time when I thought I caught the best fish in the sea. However, after just one year, my fish slipped out of my hands, jumped back into the water and swam away. This was three years ago. Since then, I’ve been fishing but haven’t found the right fish for me. Over the last three years, I’ve caught some fish, but most of what I reeled in was short-lived disappointments. I have even tried new places and different kinds of bait, but I’ve remained unsuccessful."


OH boy is she right. You see, there's this boy, Paul, and he's a royal douchebag. I won't bother to go into detail, he really doesn't deserve the recognition. But trust me, ladies and gentlemen. He is indeed, one hell of a douchebag. His friend, Clinton, whom I also talked to quite a bit, and grew quite fond of, is possibly an even bigger douchebag than Paul. But I digress. These two boys lied. Or one of them did. Or neither of them did. Either way, I was deceived, and I didn't like it. Not one little bit. I was completely livid, and I turned to another person I had been interested in for comfort, just to find out not only was he interested, but he also didn't want to complicate things, and "wasn't one for relationships" and "doesn't like to get feelings involved" and "all for fun, but without the emotional entanglements." First, you could've simply said "no, i'm not interested like that." I would've understood. Yeah, he's on my shit-list too.

So, yet again, i've found myself alone. Completely alone. I mean, there is the boy that would do anything for me, even though he knows that i do not like him that way, and there's the boy that's loved me literally for seven years. But, there's something holding me back. I don't know what it is, but i just can't settle for either of these guys.

I guess I feel like there's gotta be someone else out there.. someone that I don't have a history with, but will still accept me as I am.

Hell, I need to find out who I am, first.
UGH, I just wish I could figure everything else now, i hate this guessing shit.

Check Yes, Juliet.

So, the boys in my life have finally realized that I'm not into relationships.

I'm not saying that I'm a whore and I just like to hook up, that's not it at all... I just like to go out on a few dates, nothing too serious, (maybe a kiss, teehee) and basically just have fun. I really don't like the fact that some people think they have to be tied down in a relationship to be happy.

I have a few reasons.

I'm not happy with myself. and until I am, I can't expect other people to be happy with me. Well, not completely anyway.

I'm practically co-dependent. Unless we start out as friends first, and you really get a grip on who the "real me" is, i'm probably going to conform (i know, it's such a nasty word) to your personality to make you like me more. It's just who I am. And i'm trying to make it not be me anymore.

I also really don't know who I am. Like, yeah, I know my name's Michelle and I live in some small town and go to a private college, but other than that, i'm really just not sure about anything else. I know what i'm interested in and I know who i would like to be, but it's usually not practical.

I'm a really self conscious person. I really don't like people... at all. I have trouble with eye contact during conversations. I fidget. A lot. I like a lot of weird things, like broccoli and shakespeare.

All of these things, plus the many more that i didn't decide to divulge to the universe add up to a really messed up individual, and until I can figure myself out, I really don't think I have any business trying to make a boy figure me out. Their poor XY brains can't handle most women on a non-messed up basis.

How To: determine if you're with an overcontrolling mind-game player douchebag.

It has come to my attention that many people do NOT know how to tell if their significant other is overcontrolling, playing mind-games, or is just a general douchebag. I hope this clears things up.


1. They tell you one thing. They tell their friends another.

Mind games. bad bad bad. Leave. Leave and run for the hills.

2. They act differently around their friends.

Douchebag.

3. They have to be with you 24/7.

Overcontrolling.

4. They have to be touching you all the time in some way, shape, or form.

Overcontrolling. Douchebag. Womanizer (if applicable).

5. Even when you tell them to stop, they don't.

Overcontrolling douchebag.

6. They even slightly resemble any of the cast of Jersey Shore.

Whores, Douchebags, and Sluts. Either Mansluts or Womansluts.

7. They don't share much in common with you, but still say you're the only one for them.

Probably playing you, or just want in your pants. Douchebag.

8. They lose their sex drive abruptly.

Probably cheating. Douchebag.

9. They compare you to other guys/girls.

This is a tricky one... Some girls compare guys in their heads without even realizing it. It's kind of like a mechanism to test whether or not the guy we're with currently is any better than the last dbag we dumped. SO... it's not always a bad thing if you keep it to yourself. BUT when you feel like you're being compared in every little thing that you do, that's when it becomes the ultimate douchebaggery.

10. If he says he's going to text/call/message you, and does not.

Please don't tell me you've fallen for the "i forgot." more than twice. I mean, yeah, everyone forgets, but a little text message saying "Hey, can't chat now, but i'm thinking about you! we'll talk later" works wonders. Make sure you're not doing this to anyone else, either. it's majorly annoying.


There's the top 10 reasons I can think of to prove that you're with an Overcontrolling, mind-game playing, douchebag.


Later gaterssss.