Life.Of.Sin

I just started a new blog called Lists.Of.Sin.  It’s written in the same style as this one, only that one is nothing but lists.  If you’re interested, here’s the link:

http://listsofsin.blog.com

Thus far, there is only one post and that’s my Top Ten Favorite Songs Currently.  I’d personally wait until next week to view it, but hey.  Also, I haven’t posted it on that blog yet, but you can leave me list ideas.

Luvverzz,
Mrs. Billie Joe/Gerard Way, aka Dru

P.S. That’s the kind of picture I’ve been waiting for . . . one where you can tell how short he is.  Usually he looks Mike and Tre’s height, but he’s five foot six for fucking cryin’ out loud.

Yeah, I really should go, but I didn’t do my assignment.  And I don’t have the all the quotes I need for it, so I can’t just whip it up in fifteen-thirty minutes like I did last time.  I am going to fucking flunk a college class for the second time.  Did I ever tell you I was the first person in the history of my school to fail a dual-credit class.  Yeah, and I’m a B average student, graduated with a 3.2 or something like that.

I just hate college classes.  I preferred the structure of high school.  I’m a procrastinator, so if I have to be self-motivated, I’m basically fucked.  This is the fourth class of hers I’ve missed (remember the Durbin chick I decided was a bitch?) and so I’m sure I’m guaratanteed a C, if I completed all homework with A’s.  No offense, but . . . WTF???

So, here is a real list to surviving college (Some things are different and some are what you hear all the fucking time):

Go to class: No, really . . . go to class.  I swear to God, it helps.

Pay attention in class: I haven’t read a single book for my Special Topics class, mainly because I don’t own them, but I watch the movies and pay attention to the lectures.  You should still buy the books, but in case you can’t . . .

Hang out: Yeah, sometimes you really need to do that paper, but you can’t get burnout.  Go play pool, watch a movie, go swimming.  It’s okay to pull a late night sometimes.

Find a good parking space: This is especially important if there aren’t a lot of them.  If you have a friend, ask if you can park in their lawn, driveway, whatever (I park at my stepdad’s).  Otherwise, just search out a place.  There are two parking lots where it’s practically impossible to get a spot, but one where you usually get lucky.

Find the ‘good’ radio stations: Any genre.  Just pick them out and program them to your car stereo or memorize them.  It’s important to listen to good music before class and when transporting yourself from class to class.  Sometimes if you need a break, just drive around and blast music.

Wave: At everyone, except people that you don’t like.  I wave at hot guys all the time and turn around in a car wash parking lot and repeat.

Decorate your notebooks: You are much more likely to remember your notebook and to pull it out if you’re proud of what’s on it.  I have quotes on one, stickers on another . . . It just helps.  I don’t really know why, but I took a plain black one to class the other day and my notes didn’t turn out as well.

Reinvention: If you felt that you had to be so-and-so in high school, but it just really wasn’t you, redecorate.  You can be whoever you want now.  It’s like the rededication ceremony of yourself.  I’m a punk now.  I actually reinvented myself three-four weeks into the school year.

Join clubs: Even if you only join a few.  I’m in PRIDE and that’s it so far.

Befriend upper classpeople: One of my best new friends is a sophomore.  Not a senior, but still . . . he’s cool and he gives me insight into all this stuff.  They also know shortcuts, when you should actually show up to the nine o’ clock dance, and what houses to avoid . . .

Be a kid: We’re going trick or treating for Halloween.  We like to wear weird shirts and laugh at stupid jokes in the lunchline.

Be an adult: Take responsibility for yourself.  Nobody cares if you don’t show up for class, except your friends.  Nobody cares if you flunk that final.  Nobody cares if you get a D.U.I. until you get kicked out of school.  Fess up.

Drinking and drugs: Moderation, not on school nights, and nothing illegal.  If the cops bust you for drinking and your 21, no biggie.  If they bust you for marijuana . . . YOU ARE STUPID!

Sex: If you’re going to do it, use protection.  Usually 12 girls a year leave my school around Christmas and don’t come back because they’re pregnant.  My school also has a high background of STD’s.  My school is relatively small.

Deal with it: If you’re a Christian and you have a flamboyantly gay person in your Lit class, deal with it.  If you’re pro-choice and he’s pro-life, deal with it.  There are places and times to get into these debates.  The places and times are not: over dinner, in the lunchline, in a class where it’s not permitted, in the bathroom, or in the hallway. 

Have fun!!!  It’s your four years, you make the best of it and have fun.  Life’s a blast, so live it up.  Just don’t forget to balance out the fun with what you have to do.

Luvverzz,
Mrs. Billie Joe/Gerard Way, aka Dru

I just emailed my Dad.  Weird.  I have a really weird relationship with my Dad.  It’s impossible for me to hate my parents.  I tried, it just doesn’t work.  I can hate my stepmom, but that’s on again, off again.

I live with my mom now because of college, but I lived with my dad for eleven years after he and Mom got divorced.  He was sooooo overbearing.  Spaghetti strap tops, halter tops, two piece swimsuits all = NO!!!

He didn’t like me spending the night at friend’s houses until I was a junior or senior.  And even then, he didn’t like it.  He also gave me an eleven o’ clock curfew.  Not bad, that’s what my friends had.  Then he changed it to ten and said that “he didn’t like waiting up until eleven”.  Such bullshit. 

He slandered my mom, basically called her a slut.  I found out recently that my dad used to abuse my mom.  He threw something at her after she said she wanted a divorce.  Apparently I told Mom, “Don’t divorce Daddy, Mommy.  I’ll make it better.  I’ll keep him from throwing things at you.”  I mean, what the fuck?  I apparently repressed that memory, but Jesus fucking Christ . . . you don’t throw something at your wife period, but especially not with your five year old daughter around. 

My dad doesn’t say “I love you”.  My dad doesn’t hug me.  At least, he hasn’t since I grew breasts.  He scared me.  Now everytime an adult yells, even if it’s not at me, I cry.  The last time my dad yelled at me, he said “Get your shit packed and get the fuck out my house”.  You know why?  Because I was reading a book and eating peaches during breakfast. 

I know, I know . . . poor me, huh?  Never really abused (unless you can’t getting spanked with a 2×4 . . . the fucking bruises).  It’s just . . . emotional abuse can be just as devestating as physical abuse.  I’ve never doubted my father loves me, he just scares me sometimes.

We talk on the phone a bit now, but I haven’t seen him since I moved up here.  I saw DiAnn . . . bitch as usual.  I don’t like her very much.  She was ‘okay’ until she had her own child (we’re her stepkids).  Now my brother can do no wrong and we can do no right.  My oldest brother’s name is DJ.  He’s 16.  He’s dating one of my best friends.  DiAnn’s decided to replace me with her.  Not bad, considering DiAnn maintained my friend Kat would end up pregnant within a month when DJ and Kat started dating.

Anyway, I just needed to bitch . . .

Luvverzz,
Mrs. Billie Joe/Gerard Way, aka Dru

P.fucking.S.  I love bi guys!  Billie’s bi, Gerard’s bi!  I’m so fucking happy.  Boys kissing other boys and liking it!  Hot fucking damn!