If you listen to nothing else I say, remember this: choose a man with a large penis. People who say size doesn’t matter are generally the folks who don’t have much to brag about in the crotch department.’ Then she said, ‘Your grandfather, God rest his soul, had a nice eight-incher. Lord I miss that man.
"Step-by-step, we have realized that this issue of homosexuality has the same adverse and progressive elements as when we dealt with the race issue 50 years ago, or 40 years ago. So I would say that the country is getting acclimated to a president who might be female, who might, obviously, now, be Black, and who might be as well a gay person." - Former President Jimmy Carter
this is the point in time where I usually pack it in and say fuck it.
but fuck that.... not this time bitches.
the question is is it really worth the effort its going to take? and on top of that, the amount of emotional energy its going to consume?
I really dont understand the situation at all, but clearly somethings going to have to give.
its so easy to give up when its two ways, but its so difficult to capitulate when its one sided.... why is that? I dont really have anything to prove, and theoretically speaking, Im sitting pretty otherwise. Its like Im 18 again... I dont like me at 18...
There's a reason I haven't been writing. I cannot talk about it here. But I realized this gave me the opportunity to do what I knew would have to be done someday. Say goodbye.
But first, thank you. Thank you for listening to my words through your pixels. Thank you for coming along, whatever your reason, whoever you are. Thank you for watching my mystery unravel.
It's hard for me. To let this go. Seven years of my life are in these pages. A documented path from student to scientist. I'm not leaving because there's nothing to say, rather the opposite is true. There's so much that got left out from this summer, all those months I wasn't writing. A huge chunk of this is missing because of it, but that's the way it goes.
It wasn't always this way. Woohu was a community once. I thought of it more of a message board for my dorm and the group of friends I congealed with freshman year. One by one they left here, but I made a conscious decision to stay. Not for any particular reason, other than this became home. And I began to realize that all along, this journal, the memories buried in these pages, had been for me. To see growth flowing through words, representing actions, representing faith in myself.
And this became my memoir. My memoir of everything I lost and all that I gained. My winding road from those terrifying early moments in chemistry freshman year to a full-fledged forensic scientist in the NYPD. From being horrified to speak in front of room of classmates to testifying in courts of law to a jury of strangers. From bemoaning biochemical pathways and stoichiometry to analyzing mass spectral evidence.
When this journal began I was 18 years old. I was a wide-eyed freshman in college surrounded by strangers who would eventually become friends. I was dating a British boy back home, saw my parents every month or so, and thought I was going to become a biochemist. My first entry was made in playful angst as I fidgeted with my new life.
As this journal ends, I am 25 years old. A girl standing on her own two feet looking back and knowing how she got here, in large part to this very place where she could watch it unfold. This place took my experiences, often too close for me to see clearly, and let me take a step back and examine them to see them for what they were. Seven years later, I have a domestic partnership, a new group of friends, and a career in forensics. And my last entry is not in angst, but rather in wonder. This is to have succeeded. To end better than I began.
I didn't write everything here. There are a lot of things that happened to me, or I happened to them, that will never grace these pages. But what's here is my truth nonetheless. What's here was for me, and that makes it real.
I am not done writing forever. This has become ingrained in me and I had to make a conscious effort not to do it. Not because I have some sort of fantastic life that the internet needs to know about, but because life is something worth documenting even if just for myself. I will be found elsewhere, when I'm ready.
I am going to open back up a few of my last entries to give a sense of where I left off. These last two years had more loss, in the sense of people, than I have dealt with in the rest of my life combined. My life has undoubtedly changed because of it.
But in the end, thank you to the friends in Michigan, friends in New York, Jason, family members, a few coworkers, and a handful of strangers who read this. Thank you for finding this interesting enough to even have read it just once. Thank you for embracing yet another cell floating in the endless sea.
MichelleStar
October 18th 2003 - October 18th 2010
Last Friday, over 400 Pittsburgh high school seniors were expecting another boring lecture about the importance of donating blood, but got something much more interesting. When Assistant Principal Tim Kotch flipped the switch to turn on the Power Point presentation, several gay porn pics appeared. Oops!
"It took a few seconds for people to process what was up there," said one student. "People were laughing, but the main thing was people were like, 'I can't believe this happened.' "
The representative from the Central Blood Bank (CBB), who brought in the flash drive that had the photos on it, was visibly embarrassed but managed to complete his presentation.
"There were some images projected that were -- we'll just leave it go as 'undesirable,' " said Detective Sgt. Jeffrey Bouldin. "We're still trying to determine how that occurred."
The employee has been suspended because of the incident. "Per organizational policy, employees are not allowed to use flash drives and are required to review their presentations in advance with their supervisor; in this situation, the employee ignored these policies," a letter from the blood bank to the parents of the students stated.
Had the employee been on his toes he could have integrated the photos with the presentation, along the line of "If you're going to do things like this, then we won't be wanting your blood." Hey, it might have worked.
[Post Gazette]
Ok, I'm watching Friday Night Lights. If I had known that by giving a football player cookies on game day entitled you to making out with him, I would have been doing a lot of baking.
Peter peter pumpkin eater
had a wife loved to beat her
smacked her twice across the head
fucked her ass and went to bed
__________________________________
Hickory Dickory Dock
Hickory Dickory Dock
The bitch was suckin my cock
The clock struck two
I dropped my goo
And dropped the bitch off at the next block!
