Confessions of a Brown Eyed Girl

I’ve Got Ice Cream, Sex AND Candy….

browneyedgurly83 — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 15:26:57 +0000

well, on my phone at least. After stumbling through google during the wee hours of the morning I came across makeownringtone.com and heaven was found on earth. Ok, slight exaggeration. After listening to my friend talk about how she can’t find the ring tones she wanted, I did a little research and wound up here. You can upload a file, crop it to the desired length and download it to your computer or your phone.

I don’t know what it does for other carriers, but it worked on my Verizon V3m razor. So, I’m happy. Try it out, it’ll kill at least ten minutes of boredom and I know to me that may very well be the most important thing.

I’d be Sorry if I had Something to be Sorry About

browneyedgurly83 — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 19:40:48 +0000

On continuation of my last post, I just needed to express that I’m mad. Angry. Furious. Irate. No, really I’m just really sad. Sad that I’m obviously making big mistakes and I don’t even know what they are. Maybe I do things too fast, maybe I don’t think them through. Maybe, maybe, maybe. There’s a lot of maybes out there and not a lot of

surefire answers. I’m finding more and more uncertainty as I go along and the feeling makes my skin crawl and my stomach sink. I feel misunderstood and left out, simply because I have things other people don’t have. If only they knew what I was lacking, or the secret of the baggage that I carry around with me. Baggage that’s getting too hard to carry alone.

I’m not a solitary person and I hate spending time alone. Whenever I get the chance to spend time with other people my thoughts immediately turn to when they will leave and the silence will become overbearing.

I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I think I’m a good person and I’m more than generous and good natured, but still I always find myself alone. I wish there was an end to this. I wish my words weren’t thrown out in the blogosphere but directed at the right people. But the “right” people don’t want any part of me. It’s game over before it started and that’s what bothers me the most.

I just wish I knew what I was doing wrong.

Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes

browneyedgurly83 — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 17:55:42 +0000

Oh if I ever had a favorite word it would have to be sometimes (despite my overuse of the word “annoying”). Somtimes, everything in my life revolves around sometimes. Sometimes this, sometimes that. Sometimes he loves me, sometimes he hates me (and vice versa). Sometimes I’m good, sometimes I’m bad and sometimes I’m just plain fed up. I think this is one of those sometimes. I’m sick of having to prove myself as “worthy” to everyone that crosses my path. Yeah, I don’t do things like everyone else. I’m little unconventional and a little confused as to how I get what I get and how I lose what I want. Better yet how I don’t want everything I get and I really, really want everything I lose, or at least in the moment i do.

I would like to be seen for who I am and not what I have or better yet what I don’t have. Or don’t do. Or can’t figure out. Or can’t see what is good for me and what I should be doing. But really, who are you to tell me that I’m not worthy of your attention? That because I don’t always act “grown up” or because I have something you wish you had, I can’t be part of your world or you a part of mine. You’ll use me for what you want, but you don’t even know me, or what I’m made up of or anything in between. You, and I mean all of you give up on me before you even get through the first layer.

Maybe I’m whining. No, I am whining. Sometimes things work and other times they fall apart. This is a falling apart moment. I only pray that there’s someone out there who will finally take me for what I am and not what they see on the surface. Are you out there?

Sometimes it’s Best to…….

browneyedgurly83 — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 21:41:13 +0000

quit. No, I’m kidding, sort of. Maybe secede would be the better word. I’m not quitting, I’m merely pulling out, while I still have the chance to save my face and my reputation. As if I couldn’t come up with anything else to do, wait I can’t. This merely lies in the hands of someone else, someone who I’m unwilling to let have that tug on my heart. That tug that can either cripple me or empower me, or at best put me somewhere in between. It’s been far too long that I’ve relented and let someone hold me like that. If you’re gonna hold me let’s do it in a kind, loving matter, enough of that putting me in my place bit. Although, I can hinder my own cause in looking for exactly that characteristic.

When do we know when to pull the cord and let go? Is there ever really a good time? When do we hang in there? When do we just say fuck it and move on?

I don’t think I know as I struggle to get the grasp on the fact that my phone’s not going to ring and part of the reason being that I self fulfilled the end result all on my own. I can be bitter or I can realize I made a mistake and move on. I don’t think its worth fixing at this point. At least not by me.

So, I don’t have the answer. At least not the answer I want to tell myself. More like, not the answer I want to hear. So, I’m out. I’m quitting, I mean seceding until you give me a good enough reason to jump back in the game.

Feeling as Good as You Can

browneyedgurly83 — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 03:25:04 +0000

So, I’m sitting here. Sitting here brewing in my own stupidity and ignorance. I’ve just gone through a mass texting of everyone in my cell phone trying to find answers to my problems. Can we detach? Can we really detach? Can we detach the physical from the emotional or are we destined to just fall deeper and deeper into an abyss? Are our feelings ever justified or are we simply, for lack of a better phrase, screwing ourselves over?

I thought I could be that girl. Or better yet, I thought I could play like a guy. Moving around, jumping around and never letting my heart into the mix. Unfortunately it doesn’t seem to be working out that way. My heart now seems to be wrapped around the issue tighter than I ever thought could happen. But what do I do now?

Do I nurse what will inevitably be a broken heart? Do I plunge forward and try to justify my feelings? Do I shut up and just take it because I, myself, all by myself got into this mess. Actually, no I threw myself headfirst into this, mess and never bothered to look back, or in this case ahead. I never looked to see where my feelings and my heart would land.

Maybe this is all stemming from the fact that I just watched the finale of Tila Tequila’s a Shot at Love. Maybe. Or maybe I’m just tired of getting my heart broken and went for an alternative approach. As I look at myself and listen to myself, I don’t think the alternative approach was the best idea in this case.

So, I’m sitting here. I’m sitting here in a pool of doubt and confusion and a little bit of shame. Shame on me for not listening. Shame on me for not being the right kind of girl. Shame on me for not know what I want or who I want it from. Or better yet, finding who I want it from and making the biggest mess out of things. Shame on me and I mean shame.

What a Little Maybe Can Do

browneyedgurly83 — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 04:07:32 +0000

Sometimes I want to cry and sometimes I don’t know why. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry over something so stupid, but its almost as if my tears have a mind of their own. When you want something you want it and sometimes you didn’t even know you wanted it until you got a taste. But displace this person, place or thing for even a minute and our hearts are open to the salt we rub in them. I’ll be the first to admit I have a tendency to overreact, a tendency that is cemented in some

simple form of truth. A fear that I cannot rationalize or understand but I know is there.

Then there’s the times when we don’t feel good enough, we don’t feel that we deserve this or that we’re worthy of it. All the while we still want it, as we let our feelings and emotions get the best of us day after day. Every little inconsistency can drive us crazy.

It makes me want to scream. It makes me want to be one of those people who can take three deep breaths and all is right with the world. Unfortunately, I am not one of those people. I throw my hands up time and time again and quit time and time again only to rejoin the game when the cards start falling in my favor. Someone show me that I don’t have to be that person. I need someone to show me that I can relax and take it as it comes and be as good as my persona is. Or maybe I just need me, and a little time to work out the kinks. Maybe, maybe’s all I got right now.

Game Over

browneyedgurly83 — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 21:30:12 +0000

If there’s one thing I’m really tired of it’s playing games. No, I don’t mean Twister and Candy Land, I’m talking about the games we play with each other. The game of waiting by the damn phone for it to ring when it never ever does. Even worse the notion that I can’t pry the phone out of my own little fingers and resist from dialing and texting especially after a round of Jager bombs. Can everyone just be good to each other and say what you mean and mean what you say? Is that such a hard request?

Is anything really that hard a request? I mean short of bringing me the head of Alfredo Garcia, what isn’t do-able? I’m not blaming this all on men, I’m resisting the urge to do so because I know firsthand that girls can be just as bad. I’m taking a stand and blaming it on all mankind. Yes, I just took the liberty of blaming something stupid and relatively trivial on all of mankind. It’s been a great day so far.

Let me make my declaration now. I don’t want to play any more games, anymore, PERIOD. Tell me what you want, what you really, really want and I’ll tell you. Maybe we’ll meet in the middle. Maybe we won’t. But I just want some clarity, once again is that too much to ask for?

Maybe I’m being a bit bitchy. Maybe. No, probably. But I feel as if I have good reason. Even if I don’t everyone deserves a good rant once in awhile. So here I go, yes or no.

“He Tastes Like You Only Sweeter”

browneyedgurly83 — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 20:57:08 +0000

Guilty as charged, I’m quoting song lyrics again. But, but for good reason, well it’s reason enough in my head to warrant the name of good reason. Standing on the edge of impending doom, I count back the days to when I knew what I was doing. Oh wait, that was yesterday. Well, I’m counting back to something, something as in before I dug the hole I’m in. The hole I’m in that I’m really starting to like. Pending the confirmation of the fact that it’s alright

to be standing in a hole in the first place. Yet I am, I’m standing in this hole and dancing with the devil. Haha, I laugh because I love it. Ok enough with the hole theory.

Only sweeter, only sweeter. Yes he does taste like you, but only sweeter. Sweet and sweeter. Now that I’m confirming my own feelings of guilt, what do I do to appease these feelings? Apologize, cry and beg for forgiveness, sell my first born to the devil? Nahh, I’m just gonna go with it and continue to laugh at myself for an inexpensive form of therapy.

After all, what do I have to feel guilty about? Nada. You got it, NADA. So, as I charge ahead, remember. If you find yourself in a hole stop digging yourself out. You’ve got a much better chance at making it if you just dance with the devil. Six, six, six and dance with the devil.

And oh yeah, he really does taste like you, only sweeter.

Lessons on Boredom

browneyedgurly83 — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:57:24 +0000

Sometimes I can’t believe myself. Then there’s the other times where I stand outside myself and just stare in disbelief. I think I’m crackin’ up. Kind of like in that Green Day song. I may be a bit paranoid but I’m not stoned….yet. I also don’t know exactly what I should be writing right now and I’m acting as if the god of the blog

is going to come and kick my ass for writing the wrong thing. The big giant blog god heralding a scepter and the language of html all ready to come at me with the mighty force that only a deity has. I’ve learned one thing, I have quite an imagination, and I think a little too much time on my hands.

So other than escaping techological deities what have I been doing. Well, let’s see I’ve eaten bacon (and not bacon boy) stole a few quotes, did some spirit writing and looked at my non ringing cell phone. It’s been quite a day and it’s only 1:45.

Now the radio has me singing in a monotone voice and I realize, missing people is hard, but knowing they’re right around the corner can perk up any old day. When you wait for something so long and its just about here it sucks you in like a vacuum and sometimes you can hardly breathe. Moments light up our lives and when you feel one coming you’ve just got to let it go and let the moment take you for a ride. In fact I’m so sucked in I barely have the words to describe it.

So I’m going back to my coffee, living in my moment and trying not to crack up anymore. Sometimes I wonder how we all hold out so long on whatever it is we want. Fear, laziness or the thought that we just don’t deserve it? Part of me wants to say I do. Part of me wants to say I don’t and part of me doesn’t know what the hell is going on. Its all good, there’s no reason to sweat the small stuff now, is there?G

The Monday Blues

browneyedgurly83 — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 01:14:39 +0000

Last night the chime of the text message was too much. Today it’s silence is too little. I’m under a cloud of severe boredom which I suppose is better than a cloud of sorrow, but still how bored do I have to be? Too much excitement followed by so much downtime is a killer and a mood killer. How does life return to normal when it will only be thrown out of wack again? What am I talking about?

Simply said I am referencing the weekend. Those 48 hrs in which anything can happen. Dreams can be made, promises shattered, infidelities abound and there’s always the drunk kid throwing up in your bathroom. The allure of the weekend and the down time that comes with Monday.

As anyone knows your life can change overnight, for better or for worse. But we always have our little 48 hour paradise.

My confession, sometimes the weekends are harder than the week. But maybe that’s just me.