Just Friends

Authors note: I wrote this under the influence of 'The scene is dead, long live the scene' by Cobra Starship. I wrote it up quickly at 1 am in a crappy hotel room somewhere in Virginia. My first attempt at a more intimate scene. Grammatical errors should be expected.


They were just friends.



So she seriously wondered why the heck she was sitting there, 2000 miles away from home, in an exceedingly dusty parking lot. Waiting for him to come back.



She pressed into the door of his old rusted Jeep, which creaked in protest at being opened. Checked her cell phone again, nothing.

Giving the door a hard push, she hopped into the dirt, then slammed the door closed

Holding her cell phone high in the air, she proceeded to jump up and down, which did nothing but kick dirt up, which she inhaled – and quickly began to sneeze.



He smiled slightly at her as he approached, “Just one bed” he offered apologetically. She raised an eyebrow.



“Don’t worry, I’ll take the floor” he added sheepishly. She shrugged as he passed her to open the back of the Jeep.

“Doesn’t matter to me” She said, tugging one of her packs out from under the pile of of his stuff and shrugging it onto her shoulder.



He grabbed his own and led her towards one of the side rooms, she dragged her heels in the dirt and pouted.



That had been the most he’d said to her in the last thirty hours. She stared at him from behind, and noted that for once – she could honestly say he looked like hell. His usually well kept hair was unwashed and stuck out oddly, he had a strong five o clock shadow, and looked more then ready to pass out.



‘Then again’ she mused, ‘ I probably look just as bad’. They’d been driving almost two days straight and they were both exhausted.



Slipping the keycard into the scanner, he held the door for her with a mock bow. She smiled at him and he grinned like a little boy. It was the first real smile she’d seen out of him since she’d jumped into his truck two days ago.


Usually she couldn’t get a word in edge-wise with him. But this trip was different. His jaw was set into a tight frown, and she hadn’t been able to get him to relax no matter what she’d done.



She wondered what she had expected as she emptied her stuff onto the single queen size bed in the middle of the room. She’d hoped they would be able to catch up a bit – but they’d been drifting a part a bit recently. She chided herself silently while pulling out a set of clean clothes. His mother was dead. Why the heck would she expect him to want to bond with an old friend?



She sighed audibly and he turned from flipping through a menu on a small desk on the other side of the road.

“Don’t be sad,” he said softly. “This’ll be over soon”



She nodded, and the room went silent for a moment. He hugged her from behind and she stiffened. “I really do appreciate you coming with me” he offered.



“I wanted to come” she answered.



“I don’t know what I would have done if I had to come alone…” He trailed off and moved away.



She didn’t know what to say, so she stayed silent, then collapsed onto the bed.


“I’m gonna take a shower….” He told her as he headed towards the back of the room.



“u-hmmm” she mumbled snuggling a pillow.



Roughly ten minutes later he appeared shirtless in front of the TV. He looked better, she noted.



“You look like hell,” he teased, and she threw a pillow at him. He caught it, then gave it an odd look, gave the same look to the bed, then to her.



She sighed. Then shifted until the right end of the bed. “Get in” she ordered, and he did.



She woke up slowly, wondering why the room was so dark. He was snuggling beside her and tugging her closer. She rolled over, facing him. He stared back at her, startled and sheepish.

“What’s wrong?” she asked sinking back into her pillow.



He stared at her in silence for a moment, before shifting so he could rest his chin on her head, pulling her firmly against his chest.



She stiffened slightly, no longer use to the contact; she vaguely noted that he hadn’t really touched her in years, not since they’d broken up. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck she sighed happily.



“Had a nightmare” he whispered into her hair.



“Want to talk about it?” she asked



“No” he answered quickly. Then a moment later, “Don’t leave.”



Her eyes softened, and she placed a quick butterfly kiss just below his ear. “I can’t.” She teased. “You have the keys”




She shifted under his arm, “Lighten up.” She hissed slightly, “You hug me any tighter and something’s gonna break” She groaned softly when he retreated quickly to the opposite side of the bed as if burnt. He apologized quietly and rolled over, turning his back on her.



She huffed, wishing he wasn’t so sensitive, and wondering if he’d always been this scared of rejection or if it was new. Crawling over to him. She snuggled against him from behind, and tickled his ribs a bit, causing him to curl into the fetal position.



“I didn’t mean it like that…you can, we can cuddle if you want, just don’t hold me like I’m trying to run away okay?”



He didn’t move for a moment, but when he did she found herself pressed firmly against him, he nuzzled her hair softly and slid a hand under her shirt to rub her lower back.



She smiled brightly and nuzzled into his chest, yawning, “going back to bed?” she asked groggily, and he shook his head ‘no’.

She glanced up at him the best she could, remembering he’d been a born and bred insomniac for years.

“Want me to stay up with..” “No.” he cut her off firmly. “You sleep”



“K…” she mumbled, really already half asleep.



He watched her for several minutes, rubbing knots out of her back as he found them, he smiled down at her, truly happy he’d asked her to come with him, and he kissed her forehead softly, before drifting off to sleep himself.





She woke up to an annoying ring far off to her left, and she lifted her head and squinted when she heard him curse loudly beside her. She stared at him as he reached over to nightstand to grab his phone.



He glanced at the I.D. before giving her an apologetic glance.



She rolled her eyes as he flipped the phone open and greeted the person on the other line, keeping his eyes on her. She knew exactly who was calling from the look he gave her, the same look he gave her every time his girlfriend called.



Sighing, she threw her legs off the side of the bed and made to get up, but he grabbed at her wrist and made a movement with his head to incline her into lying back down. Jerking away, she closed the bathroom door on him.



Washing her face, she listened to him as he answered all her questions, how was he doing, where was he, had he started packing his moms things yet…no questions about her of course, and she wondered if he’d even said he was bringing someone alone.

Probably not.



She sighed and stared at herself in the mirror.


Wondering why she felt so bad for herself, why she felt so jealous.



After all.



They were just friends.

One Show. No Encores.

Life is a show. And we’re all actors. We’re the villains, the white knights, the lovers and sometimes the anti-heroes.
We’re the friends, the partial characters, the thieves, and the killers.

Life is an act, a show we don’t get recognized or paid for. A lifetime performance.
Something none of us auditioned for, but something we were thrown into, forced into. Like a set of blond twins with a couple of stage parents.

If there’s one thing I learned from growing up with a theater background – it’s that shows do not always go as planned. People forget they’re lines, costumes tear, and people break under the pressure.

Sounds a bit like life doesn’t it?

So, if you think about it – The world is one big theater.

The problem is that we don’t have a script to memorize, or a director to tell us what the heck we’re doing.

In the end- we’re the actors, the producers and the directors of our own lives.

Talk about a crappy metaphor eh?

I was told recently that I don’t know what I want to do with my life because I don’t know myself. I don’t know who I really am. Maybe that’s true.

But that got me wondering. Do any of us know who we really are?

We’re all actors. But we’re also all liars.

Everyone is a liar.

For no other reasons then the fact that everyone lies.

So the problem with life isn’t that we’re liars, or that we’re actors.

It’s that we’re both.

Because we’re all nothing more then lying actors, and we all have been since we could learn to talk – we’re good at it. Great actually.

Maybe it’s completely unintentional. Maybe you don’t even know you’re lying anymore.
Maybe you truly believe the character you play everyday is who you really are.

Maybe you never thought about it.

But take a day. Think about everything you say or do. Count how many lies you find yourself performing.

Does it feel like you?
Here’s the truth about the truth.

It hurts.

A lot.

So we act.

We lie.

We lie so we don’t get hurt. We lie so others don’t get hurt. We lie so the characters we play can stay characters.

So no one will know the difference.

So in the end - we’re all just really good actors.

Maybe we’re all so good we don’t even know who we really are.

But we better start figuring out.

Because in the end, all life is…

Is

One
Show
No
Encores.

<3
Dommers.

Mid(teen) crisis.

Where did all out childish hopes and joys go?

Who decided I wanted to grow up?

Who knows how to make it stop?

I’ve been pretty nostalgic recently, not even for last year, when my social life was pretty good and I had lots of friends, I don’t think I even care about that anymore. What I do know is that I miss my childhood.

That’s weird isn’t it? A 16 year old wanting to be a little kid again. It’s usually the other way around isn’t it? Wanting to jump the next two years and finally become adults. I’m not like that.

I, myself, miss my construction paper, my crayons, and my snack time.

I miss the time when you really thought you COULD be anything, or do anything

I think I miss kindergarten most.

I mean, what do you have to worry about in kindergarten? Regular Milk, or chocolate…decisions decisions…
Remember being little, you never worried about anything, and your parents made most of your choices for you, which – if you didn’t like, you’d forgotten about the next day.

You could play with anyone on the school ground, there was no separation of stereotypes, no shunning, and – when you said, “you’re my new best friend” you actually meant it.

It’s almost terrible how fast we’re made to grow up in this country.
What with this whole twelve years olds with babies, and 9 year olds with cell phones.

WTF?

I wish they told you life was going to be such a disappointment. Maybe you could make a decision about if you wanted to grow up or not.

Who would have left they’re naptimes and crayons if they knew how backstabbing, painful, disappointing and horror-filled, the world would be?

I know I wouldn’t have.

So, lets say your best days are that of kindergarten, and it just gets worse from there. Who the hell wants to last till middle age?

Just shoot us now. Lets get it all over with. Who wants to deal with another 20 years of crappy people, crappy education, job hunting, house hunting, friend hunting, hate groups, school shootings, environmental destruction and madness…. all the religious extremists and republicans running amok. Can someone buy me a ticket back to kidville please? What happened to worrying about how many pokemon you caught that day? I miss my freaking pokemon!

So, I think we can officially say that Brianna wants to go hang out with Peter Pan and the evil mermaids of neverland. (Speaking of which – yes Michael Jackson is dead, and no – I do not wish to visit his neverland…)

Anyone with me?

<3

Dommers.

We. can't. Let. go.

We feed each others depression.

We get so used to it that we can’t be happy.

We feed each others darkness

We learn to fear the light.

We feed each others loneliness.

We cling to each other for comfort.

We encourage each others dismay

We need to feel better the then other

We allow each others nostalgia

We can’t look at the future.

We become dependent on each other.

It’s all we can do.

We feed each others pain
So maybe we won’t get hurt next time.
We.
can't.
Let.
go.


Dedicated to a certain soon-to-be-ex friend of mine.


<3
Dommers.

Drivers Ed...

What is it with the scare tactics they use in Drivers ed?

have they been proven to work at all?

Because when I go out and get smashed, I'm totally gonna remember those videos they showed us - and not drive myself home.

because our memories are so clear when we're drunk right?

Drinking impairs your judgment right? That's what they keep saying, can't drink and drive cause drinking impairs your judgment.

So I'm going to be able to judge if I'm too impaired to drive?

Right.

That makes SO much sense.

And you know what? That video would have been so much more dramatic if I hadn't seen a member of the victims family kill her husband on law and order last week. Who does the casting for those things?

Geez.


Anyway, Drivers ed until the 17th, so I'll have late/no updates until everything settles down.

<3
Dommers.

PS: there's a boy in my class that looks like William Beckett. It's kinda insanely adorable.

S-E-X and all that dirty teenage business.

Post-Script: I knew where I was going when I started. Not so much when I finished. 100% completely un-proof read and I'm sure some thoughts will mold together. I'll edit it later.


So, I started thinking about this in the shower this morning. I often start thinking really deep whilst in the shower. Anyone else? No? No? Are you sure? You’re lying.



Anyway, I started thinking about this cute worker at a local store. He’s flirted with me a couple times. Totally harmless, and very slight. But it’s there.

So what’s the problem with that? Well, he has to be at least nineteen, if not a bit older.



Le gasp. Mass hysteria. A nineteen year old flirting with a sixteen year old? That pervert. Someone call the police!



See what I did there?



I see nineteen year olds dating twenty-five year olds all the time. Never mind, the barely legal girls dating the creepy forty-year olds. That’s fine. No one says anything about that. She’s nineteen. So who cares?



But when you get a seventeen-year-old girl dating a twenty-year-old, or a sixteen-year-old dating an eighteen-year-old everyone freaks out.



So why is that?



Really, what difference does one or two years make? What is it about eighteen that makes anyone younger off limits? Who in America decided you became an adult at eighteen anyway? Do we have to run a maturity poll or something?



Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying we should have 12 year olds dating 50 year old guys. I’m not saying we should go back to the old times where young girls got married at 13 and had two or three kids by age fifteen.



I’m talking about teens dating teens. Teens having fun with teens. Teens having S-E-X with teens.



If you pay much attention – you’ll realize that this whole ’18 makes you an adult’ thing is everywhere. Even in most teens. We’ll take my friend Bunni for example. Last year she dated a guy for a while, and eventually they broke up. She’s roughly a year and a half older then him. So when if dating him came up in a conversation she hurriedly exclaimed that she could never date him – seeing as she’ll be 18 this month, and the age difference would be ‘creepy’.



Huh? So being a year or two older is okay until your eighteen. Then it’s illegal and scary. Am I right?



So, of course this is more of a problem for girls. Most parents don’t ask their son’s how old his girlfriend is, it’s a question that comes up a lot more often for teenage girls.



So why is that?



Are parents just protecting their dumb, naive, teen girls from the horror’s of what could happen if they decided to one day wander off and play with the big boys?



And what about those girls that lie? Or disrespect their parents wishes? How could they?!

Don’t they know that as soon as a man turns eighteen he becomes bent on nothing else then raping and deflowering young naïve teen girls while they clutch desperately to- oh wait, sorry, that’s not true is it?



So how did this whole ‘no touching until your 18’ business start anyway? Are we as a country just being sexist? Thinking girls aren’t smart enough to make decisions such as these until that fateful day when they turn eighteen and magically grow a brain?



Oh! Of course. I get it now. It’s because, we as teenage girls – don’t know what we’re doing! That must be it. I mean, they teach us all about reproductive systems and STD’s in school, Sex in everywhere – from billboards to TV. It’s free allllllll over the Internet. We’ve all seen it, heard about it, or read it. And we’re lying if we say we haven’t. We know all about it. We just aren’t smart enough to be involved in it.



Especially with someone older then ourselves.



Because we don’t know what we’re doing.



We aren’t smart enough to lie about our ages. We aren’t smart enough to dress older, or act older. It’s not like we’re allowed to dress like sex on legs, talk about sex, or think about it. Wait… for god sake what’s wrong with us? We’re only teenagers! Where are our one-piece smocks? Where are our Catholic Abstinence only daytime cartoons?



No wait. Everyone calm down! It’s okay. We can act like that.



Because we don’t know what we’re doing.



Because we can’t be held responsible.



After all, if we end up dating and sleeping with that 18 year old neighbor we’ve known for who knows how long – it’s because he lied, and was too crafty for our slow teenage minds. It’s not like we knew what we we’re doing.



So it’s not our fault.



So we aren’t going to be held responsible for our naïve female actions…. wait, your kidding right? We ARE being held responsible? Since when?



Ahhhhh, Okay, the whole ‘sexting’ thing. So, we don’t know what we’re doing when we have sex – but we do when we take naked pictures of ourselves and send them all over the interwebs? Make up your mind already!



Sorry girls, you can’t be a porn star until your 18! Off to jail with you. Manufacturing Child pornography. What’s wrong with you girls? Sending it to boys all over school. Soiling they’re once clean minds. Shame on you!



All I’m saying is, lets all take a step back. Look around us. What does putting a bunch of 18 year olds in jail do for us anyway?

Does that make us safer?

Safer from what?



Unwanted pregnancies?



Unwed mothers?



Soiled brides?



The horror.



If you don’t want your teen girls to have sex, you should talk to them about it. If you don’t want them having kids – you should encourage in everyway you can the use of birth control and condoms.



But putting away her poor boyfriend?



Am I really the only one that thinks that’s a bit extreme?



And lets not forget those porn-sta- I mean students. What does putting them in jail do?



Save a kid from getting a hard-on in class?



Save the girl from future embarrassment as an adult?



After all, she must have all those shameful acts pushed firmly to the back of her mind – so far back she couldn’t find them if she tried.



That must be what juvi’s for.



It’s like a purification retreat.



Only without the vegan lunches and the meditation.



So, lets all take a step back here. Is this whole ’18 or older’ craze real? Is there any real reason for it?



Or are we, as a family, as a state, as a country –


Just completely and utterly brainwashed?

Yesterday, dishes, concerts, and life

I don’t remember what I did yesterday. But I know I got a lot done. I know I went to a thrift store…. found some pretty cute stuff. I’m trying to bring the whole John Lennon era into my wardrobe. You’d be surprised how hard it is to find vests these days that aren’t horrid and covered in floral patterns. I did find a nice vest though - more pirate-like then anything.

I think I did some chores…. I’m ecstatic over the fact that I’m finally getting a dishwasher. I’m a terrible dishwasher, I always manage to get myself wet, I’m never able to really get the dishes fully spotless, and my hands have been getting chapped from all the hot water. Defiantly one of my least favorite chores.

I had my music lessons today. Guitar went pretty well. But I’m working on a song in my voice class, which has a high F note. This is at the top of my vocal range anyway, but for the last three or four weeks my throat has been bothering me. My voice teacher says it’s half stress and half posture- and I always thought I had pretty good posture!

How disappointing.

I went to the barn today, mostly to get some of my stuff. It’s almost disgusting how quickly a place can change. I haven’t visited in about a month, and the farm itself seems like it’s dying.

Fences have already started being removed. Most of the horses are gone, and the grass – that’s usually kept short is almost completely overgrown. The spirit of the place seems sad. Lonely even.

Maybe I’m just too emotional.

Or maybe I’m right.

On a lighter note – it seems like I’ll be attending warped tour this year after all. A friend of mine is using it as her birthday gift and offered me a ticket. Yay.

I’ll be honest when I say I’m not expecting much. I always thought Vans was a rock show. What’s with all the screamo/scene bands this year?

Seems like my concert schedule is filling up pretty quickly.

I’d like to see Anberlin and Taking back Sunday in July.

Did anyone know Anberlin was Christian rock? I had no idea.

But when I found out last week all of their music videos and lyrics suddenly made a ton more sense…. Am I the only one this has happened to?

Anyway,

Warped is in July, But I’d also like to go see Boys like Girls with NeverShoutNever.

I know I’ll get a ton of flaming for this – but I honestly think Christofer Drew (NSN) has the potential to become one of the John Lennon’s of our generation. If the boy gets any more into love and peace he’ll start singing about being happy and holding peoples hand- oh wait. Huh.

Then we have the Blink-182 reunion tour in August. Who else is excited? Soooo they’ve only been on hiatus since 2005. That’s plenty of time for us to miss them, and you have to admit – while they’re new bands (Angels & Airwaves and +44) are good. They aren’t Blink.

So…there goes about 70 dollars for the next three months. I should really start saving…

It’s gotten to the point where this is totally a stream of consciousness writing type thing. So you’ll all have to deal with my odd ramblings for a bit. There’s no other way for my to blog for a certain amount of time (or pages) without just writing what comes to mind. It kinda upsets me that my life isn’t exciting enough for me to have three pages of stories to tell each day. Maybe if I bring my font size up to 14….but that would somehow feel like cheating….

Oh! I ended up making business cards yesterday (Thank you VistaPrint),I got sick and tired of having to write all my contact information out for people (Think Raven from questionable content) Call me lazy.

So I’m hoping to see the other Brianna Saturday at EarthFest, and I would like to wear the outfit she drew me in on my paper child. But it may be cold. Can’t wear short skirts and belly shirts when it’s cold. Eh - I’m sewing together a pair of fingerless gloves for it either way.

So that’s about all that I’ve done/thought about in the last two days. My iPod is officially dead, and when that fact truly sinks in I very well may cry. Not a little cry either. Think sobbing.

I’ve got a ton of chores and work tomorrow, then my last lesson at this barn. Hopefully Hopi won’t go into shock when he sees the saddle, he’s only been ridden three times this season. That’ll change soon. Think 5 days a week! Or….you know…3…at the least.

Thankfully I can take my trainer with me. It’ll be a longer drive for her – but she seems willing to do it. Thank god. It’s awful finding a trainer that’s both friendly, knowledgeable, and not a total basket case.

So, that’s about it for today, hopefully tomorrow will be more exciting.

<3>

<3 Dommers