just thoughts. of a crazy girl.

Scott "Gonzales"

2010-11-05T12:12:00.005-07:00

This is my good friend Scott. We work together, and have class together. And live right across the street from each other. I had to interview two people for my Spanish class who were Hispanic/Mexican of some sort. I literally walked around downtown for 40 minutes asking random people to let me videotape them. And I got rejected. Again. And again. And again. So Scott helped me out, kinda.

"They're like the Spanish version of a horseback-rider."

A letter to a loser.

2010-11-02T21:57:00.004-07:00

I tried uploading a funny video of my friend Scott pretending to be Mexican. BUT. My router decided to stop after 20 minutes of loading, so I gave up. Instead, this is a note I scribbled in class today. It sounds depressing and horrible, and I feel like it makes me seem a little crazy, but I like it. So there.

I think about you often, in a variety of ways. Sometimes I reminisce with my memories, thinking about the fun we had and missing the positive feelings I once had for you. Sometimes I think about the future. I imagine bumping into you somewhere, myself being beautiful and different--happy, fun and being in the ultimate moment any person would want to be in for a reunion with a past "lover," particularly one who broke your heart. In these thoughts, my goal is to make you feel regret, to realize you made a mistake in letting me go. I then want to smile, act like my heart isn't pounding out of my chest, and brush you out of my life. Again. I know this is childish and silly, and quite ridiculous, but I don't care. Sometimes, as wrong as this sounds and as wrong as I know this is, I feel the need to make you feel at least some of the anguish you've made me feel. Then there are times I think in the present. The conversation last week--should I let it all go, break down and call you? Do I allow myself to think about you and I as a unit in the future? Do I allow myself to think about you at all? I feel sad at times, especially at night when I'm missing the conversations we had as I fell asleep, when I'm missing you. Then I stop. I sigh and realize that aspiring towards any legitimate future with you is as silly as imagining a future with Brad Pitt. I feel no sadness at this point, just the blunt nudge of reality.

I'm here, kinda.

2010-10-29T08:07:00.003-07:00

Do you ever look around and say to yourself, "What the hell are you doing?!" I do that a lot. Especially with school. I don't do my homework and I rarely go to class. Everytime I miss a homework assignment or a class, I have pangs of anxiety and I know I'm doing the wrong thing, but I do it anyways and push the panic away. I don't know what I'm going to do. I think the hole I've dug for this semester might already be too big to crawl out of. I wonder so often what happened to little Rachel, Miss straight-A, Miss teacher's pet, Miss I-always-have-something-to-say. Now I sit quietly in class and usually sleep or consume myself in thoughts that have nothing to do with class. I know she's still in there somewhere, I just need to dig a little deeper and readjust my focus.

Oh my goodness.

2009-06-28T11:21:00.001-07:00

Billy Currington.

so adorable.

All is good.

2009-03-18T13:04:00.003-07:00

I'm sitting in Spanish right now, waiting for class to start. I'm good. I'm really good. :] Things are finally really starting to feel ok. I can finally sigh in relief, not in defeat. I miss you guys, mucho.

A curious stranger. Or was it strange curiosity?

2009-02-20T00:45:00.005-07:00

The other night I was sitting on the light rail after work on my way back to my dorm. I was stressed out and a little upset, but I tried to busy myself in my book. I noticed two young men, maybe early to mid twenties, get on the light rail. One in particular noticed me. I caught him looking at me a couple times, and again attempted to busy myself in my book. It was dark outside, and there were lights on inside the light rail, making the reflection in the window as clear as if it was that of a mirror. I pretended to look at the scenery, but instead I watched the young man looking at me in the reflection. He wasn't creepy looking or weird, and had no evidence of being homeless or crazy. But every time I looked up from the book, he was looking at me. I just tried to ignore him. After about half of the 40 minute trip had passed, he got up. There was no way he was going to come sit by me, that would be too much, even if he had been crazy. I was wrong; he sat down in the seat behind me. "Hey," he said as he leaned forward towards my seat. I still had my nose in my book, trying to ignore his obvious presence. Curiosity overcame me. I turned to him as I tried to pull off the oh-I'm-sorry-I-was-engrossed-in-my-book-and-didn't-hear-you look combined with the were-you-talking-to-me look. I'm not sure if it worked, but he began talking. He apologized repeatedly as he explained that he had never approached a complete stranger with such odd intentions. He went on to explain that he was intrigued by the expression on my face, that I had a "perplexed, fixed" expression. (I had not even been aware I had an expression on my face.) He explained that the emotion in my face was so intense and so real, he felt "engaged," to the point where he would walk up to a complete stranger and risk looking crazy, to get a better understanding. He said in some strange way, he was giving me a compliment-- he could see how much I cared, he could physically see love in my expression. He even used those words. It was so odd, but it was so nice to hear. I'm always so afraid the people I care about, even people who aren't necessarily a huge part of my life, don't realize that when I mess up or when I'm being difficult, I feel it. My actions aren't things I brush off easily. I always feel like I exert so much energy and become so exhausted stressing over the problems I create with people, and I find it so interesting that a complete stranger, someone I had never even had the opportunity to affect, could see it just by looking at my face. It was just such a strange experience.

Yes everybody, Rachel's alive.

2009-02-15T20:43:00.004-07:00

I miss my friends, more than words can say. I feel so far from everybody, it kinda scares me. It's my fault though, and I'm sorry. I just want you all to know that even though I'm 'invisible,' I think about you guys all the time.

Just an update..
He calls me every night. And texts me every morning. He got a car and drives here every weekend. He demands to take me to work and pick me up. I refuse. He calls me randomly so he can 'stop by.' If he calls and I tell him I'll call him right back, he asks a million questions. Why? What are you doing? Who are you with? Where are you? If we go out to dinner, it isn't enough. What are we doing now? It's only ten. You don't need sleep. He calls me on Tuesday and tells me he bought me a plane ticket for Friday. When I say no, he gets mad. He doesn't understand how suffocated I feel. And I don't have the heart to tell him. So instead I carry it around. It's not the kind of weight you carry on your back or your shoulders though. It's like a seed, like a twinge burrowed inside my chest. It's always there. The more I ignore it, the deeper it goes and the bigger it gets. It makes me cry sometimes. I feel trapped, yet at the same time I feel like I'm the one being ridiculous. I know it's not right that I can't tell him these things, but he won't understand. I had a bad day today, because I couldn't talk to you... You're the only person that calms me down... I'm not angry when I'm with you... I'm so happy right now, you make me so happy... I'll drive here every weekend if that's what it takes, because I want to make this work... You're the only person I can talk to about these things... You're a factor in every decision I make... I can't imagine myself being happy if you're not in my life in some way... I honestly don't think I can ever feel the way I feel about you about anybody else... Everytime I look at the stars I think about you...

I don't know what to do.

Odd, but good?

2008-12-20T00:23:00.003-07:00

Things feel a little odd at the moment. But not in a bad way, which in itself is odd that something odd is also something good. Or is that normal? I suppose it is, but this particular odd thing that to me feels ok is very odd, especially for me to think it feels ok. Did that make any sense?

Anyways, I'm happy about this. But I'm also kind of scared. But I'm really trying. Every once in a while I start to panic, but I remind myself that it's ok, because I know it really is ok and I know I can't keep putting this off. It's just really hard for me to not fight back. It's really hard for me to give the control to someone else. But, what can I do? At some point I have to let somebody in. Why not now?

Downtown. Crazy.

2008-11-11T10:32:00.003-07:00

I like to explore when I'm bored. Sometimes the dorm seems like a prison, and I just need to get outside. So outside I go. Lately one of my favorite places to go is the courthouse. There's a pretty grassy area outside with trees and benches, and I enjoy sitting there to think and people-watch. It's very refreshing. I am also proud to say I have discovered 4 Starbucks within three blocks of my dorm. haha. And a frozen yogurt place. yay. :]

On a more solemn note, I saw this woman today. She was old and her skin was really tan and weathered-looking as if she had spent months, most likely years, in the sun. She was homeless. Her eyes were squinted, almost completely shut. We were walking towards each other, and as I was about to pass her on the sidewalk, she saw me and stopped. She looked to the ground and practically grunted as she told me to go ahead. That poor woman. What must she have been through, how must people have treated her for her to not even be able to look at me as I walked past? It made me a little sad. I wish people weren't cruel. I wish I could help people like that poor, old woman. I hope that her family is out there somewhere, thinking about her and caring about her, even if she doesn't know it.

The Adams are on the loose. Again.

2008-11-10T10:09:00.003-07:00

On Sunday, the Adams returned from a long weekend of backpacking through the Superstition Mountains to Rieves Ranch. Ouch. We're talking two days of hiking 10 miles in, 10 miles out, 30 pound packs, sleeping on the ground, pure insaneness.

Nah, it actually wasn't that bad. But it was pretty intense. We actually camped next to a creek in this valley thing where an old ranch house used to be. And there were apple trees, although I'm sad to say there were no apples. We actually had to gather water from this creek (which I affectionately called the 'crick') and boil the water so we could drink it and make our food with it. Like I said, intense. It was way fun though. And so beautiful. There was actually this part of the trail, in between the desert-like terrain and the forest-like terrain, that was what I imagine prairie-like terrain to be. The trail was on the edge of the mountain and you could look out and see this huge valley beneath you and the most amazing mountains beyond that. I almost felt like Phoenix didn't exist, like there were no such things as big cities. I never knew there were places like that in Arizona.

And of course, there are many hilarious stories regarding my ridiculous family, but I will save those for another time. (They're always better when I can incorporate the voices I've created for them-haha.) I'm really glad I had the chance to share this experience with them.

I must say, I am a fan of backpacking. I can't wait to go again.

This is the story of a girl.

2008-11-05T15:57:00.002-07:00

A boy and a girl sat beneath a tree, holding hands. He looked at her and watched her smile. His eyes were bold. They searched for something more than shady trees and green grass, something more than hand-holding and sweet smiles. He wanted her promise to him, in hopes someday she could give him her heart, in hopes she would someday realize and appreciate that his heart already belonged to her. But the girl was happy. His hand was enough for her. And time was all she needed.

So hush now, boy. It’s just you and me and time. Hold my hand, and forget the rules.
If we care enough, we won’t need titles. I can be yours, and you mine.

The girl was scared. She pushed him away. The boy was desperate. Was he losing her? Her heart screamed, please trust me, trust time. His heart pained, please just let me in, this can be something. He did not look at her now but she knew he was searching. She couldn’t explain any other way-- she grabbed his hand.

So hush now, boy. It’s just you and me and time. Hold my hand, and forget the rules.
Believe me when I say I care. I am yours, and you are mine.

The boy pulled closer, she pushed farther. She wanted him to be happy, but time was all she could give, and time was too long for him. He believed that she cared, but he needed more. He looked at her but she wasn’t smiling. His eyes were tired now, and hers pleaded for his understanding. But he couldn’t see it.

So hush now, boy. It’s just you and me and time’s run out. Hold my hand, one last time.
I never promised you my heart, how could I know for sure? But you never promised your patience either.

Happiness was all I ever wanted. How did we come to this?

Hmmm

2008-11-04T08:52:00.002-07:00

I had so much fun at NAU this weekend with my homeslice(s). And then I came back. ughh. I like ASU, but I guess I'm just disappointed that it's not the change I had hoped it would be. I wake up to construction. And heat. And noise. And my dorm is quiet, solitary-like. And my mom wants me to move home next year, but I don't want to. I feel like I'm hurting her feelings. I feel like I'm so close to my family I'm practically avoiding them when I don't see them, which is weird. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't want to see them, I love my family and miss not being around them all the time. I just feel like this is something I need to do. I don't know why. And I feel like I'd be failing if I went back home next year.

There are just so many changes. And I can't tell if I'm disappointed in them because my expectations were too high, or if there really is something better out there. Speaking of something better, I've also been way confused about my major. I decided I want to minor in Spanish, but in deciding this I realized how much more excited I am about learning language than I am about being a journalist. Is this because I don't really want to be a journalist? Or is this because the real journalism aspect of my degree hasn't kicked in yet? I'm just so confused. I know journalism can open many doors for me, but I know they aren't easy doors to open. I'm so terrified of getting out of college and getting stuck. Stuck in a desk job at some small publication that I went to as a start for my resume, and then 10 years down the road, where am I? Stuck. At the same place. I know if I stay focused and just never give up I can do the things I feel like I have to do. I know I can.

Sorry, that was a bit scattered.

:]

2008-10-26T23:17:00.003-07:00

I have nothing really to say. haha, And I know it's ridiculous, but I find that hilarious. And that makes me so happy. Like 20 minutes ago I was sitting by myself eating ice cream and being angry at Mr. Butthead (which resulted in me deleting my myspace by the way. Real mature, I know--haha). Reading everybody's blogs has brightened my day, I guess my night actually. Yay.

Anyhoo, I have to get up and casually jog in the morning. Some of the bums are kind of mean. One lady called me a little bitch. Excuse me?! I didn't do anything to her. I just smiled at her as I was jogging by. Pschhh, her and her ugly hat can kiss my boo-tae. Sorry, that was mean.

Goodnight world!

Ouch.

2008-10-15T15:42:00.003-07:00

Ok, so lately I've been addicted to this website called grouphug.us. It's a site where anybody can make anonymous confessions and people can go and read them. Most of them are disgusting and perverted, some of them are funny, some are cute, and some are really sad. I was reading through them the other day and came along this:

"I love you so much. And you just want to put me on hold. I wont be waiting forever, and i dont know what hurts worse, that you dont want to be with me now, or that you will risk losing me forever."

I feel ridiculous for saying this, but ouch. It's not that I take this personally, or that I feel offended by this, (obviously I have no right or reason to), but I realize that this is so true, and that hurts me. This just really hit me hard. I mean, does this describe me? As an outsider looking in, my first thought is that whoever is being written about obviously does not truly care about the writer. But wait...
ughhhh :[

This makes me think. And not in a happy way.

A blog about a blog.

2008-10-13T19:08:00.000-07:00

So, I was thinking about the purpose of this blog. And of blogs in general. At first, I began thinking about the things I would say in a blog, mainly things to keep my dudes (in this case dudettes), most of which have moved away, up to speed with my life. Maybe something that has to do with my mood, my day, my 'current events.' The more I thought about this blog, however, the more I realized its ability to allow me to release my thoughts, my questions. I am a scribbler. Long before I created this blog, I realized the value of being able to capture my emotions on paper. My mind is constantly reeling, whether I'm angry, conflicted, happy, contemplating, or even confused. Sometimes my thoughts become too much for me to handle, and at some point they spill out of my pen into these jumbled, non-legible scribbles. Weeks, maybe even months, after dumping my emotions into a heap on the paper, I would find them, and read them. I realized that these words I had not even had the intention to write really meant something, and had so much power. I could read them and remember my exact anger, my exact glee, or even my exact fear. Nothing can do for me what writing does. Even so, when thinking about creating a blog, I couldn't help but wonder--

Who cares?

But then I remember that despite my desire to release my emotions somewhere, my number one reason for this blog is my friends. They care. And that makes me so happy. I love you guys. :]