Seriously, add me. Also tell me who you are.
NNID: ErythFey

REFRESH/F5 FOR SEA PANCAKE CUTENESS~!

I'm making a friend list of sorts. Now that in itself is pretty simple. Why this is considered a project is that it doubles as a music playlist! I ask a friend to give me a song or two that they really like, and I jot that down as well as their name and everything and keep going until I have a nice playlist of music from all my friends! To any of my friends that I only know on here, or any person interested in being part of this project of mine, talk to me! Who knows, you might meet a new awesome friend! Skype is erythblade!

My grandfather passed away last Friday. After a few days of tumultuous movement from my house, to the land of my family which I call the land of Rain and Sun (or more specifically, Culiacan, Sinaloa), I said good bye to my grandfather at his funeral, and made sure I was the strongest individual for my family. I had come prepared, ready to carry a heavy load. As I held my dad, a man who I have only seen cry 3 or so times in my life, sob disconsolately, I slowly became burdened in tears and sadness. I held my grandmother, and my uncle, my sister, and countless other family members, and let their tears become lost upon my shoulders, and I refused to cry. It almost seems like a blur, a moment of distance where I fazed over the event. Up until yesterday, when I got back home, I had no idea of what the time was, other than what the sun could tell me.

As for my grandfather, he left behind many things, most importantly a large family, but he goes on to better places, and to a son that awaits him. Grandpa's passing also lead to a few days of strange occurrences, with a few that I doubt I'll forget for a while. I have no regrets as to how I interacted with with him, and in my mind, I will always see the frail person with a kind and warm smile that my grandfather was. He looked so thin in his casket. It was almost hard to imagine how slowly my grandpa wasted away. It's a little impressive to consider that grandfather passed away as he wished, stubborn to the end, in peace and without pain. The event itself was the talk of the city, with several newspapers mentioning grandpa's passing, with a small eulogy written by one of the newspapers star reporters. It was so strange to see bodyguards and people stationed with full body armor and heavy caliber weapons stationed all around. As it turns out, the mayor, the incoming mayor and a few high post people in the government attended grandpa's ceremony. I recall the scent of flowers at his viewing. Everyone said that grandpa would have felt such pride at his passing, because he got so many flowers. Some of the arrangements he got were worth a lot of money, and there were so many. From small flower arrangements, to large impressive ones that covered almost entire walls, the rooms dedicated for his viewing were packed with flowers and people mourning him.

As for myself, I inherited a hat of his, something that my grandma wished for me to have, and gave to me in tears as I left yesterday morning. I will miss him dearly, but I know he's in a better place.

Rest in peace, grandpa.

Sorry, I'm kind of obsessed with the Wonderful 101 right now. That game is like...so many cool stuff in one.

ANYWAYS! That's not what I've made this journal for!

 KrisPup is having an actual 1111 dollar raffle! THIS IS YOUR CHANCE FOR SOME MAD MULLAH~! Just give it a try. You never know. I've actually won a few raffles before. Maybe this time it'll be you!

http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/5259913/

Tomorrow is the only thing that comes to you even if you don't do anything. Everything else in life has to be fought for, so go out and get what you want!
-Route 17 Gate Guide, Pokemon

Unwatch. I got my first unwatch. What.

Shiwiggity Shrug~

It's gonna be aweeeeeeeesooooooome! My 21st birthday, the new pokemon, I got plans to commission someone on my, "People I want to commission" list (Halloween theeeeme, yeaaah!), and a whole bunch of other things not relevant to here. My mutual furry friend came out of the fursuit closet yesterday, at least to one person, and it went well! He's decided to slowly confess his furry status to our close circle of friends. Our group. Grandma will be leaving the house to go back to the warmer climates in Sinaloa, Mexico. I'll miss her, but I'll finally get to sleep in my bed again! (A silent prayer to the people there, still suffering from the tragedy that transpired in Mexico.) Things are good at school, and at work, I'm very much appreciated. I sometimes get tips from people, and that always makes my day. I've been playing a LOT of Mabinogi (note me if you'd like to play together! Mari Server, yeah! :3) lately, which has been especially fun, since my friend has joined in the game he thought to be incredibly terrible. Oh boy, has he eaten his words. Made some new friends online, and that's made me incredibly happy. Oh yes, these are happy times~!

That's where my new retainers came from. And god, it feels like the put braces on me all over again. IT'S PAINFUL.

...I don't think I'm gonna be able to sleep tonight. That is all.

In later renditions of this story, I'll probably make out the customer that flipped out at my workplace today much more demonic than he actually was, but not today. Today, I was feeling good, and I wasn't gonna let a crazy ruin my good day. Anyways it all started like this:

I had been stormed by customers a few minutes prior to the man walking in, and once the dust had settled, he walked in, seeming like the perfect citizen, a calm individual, a small hint of stress in his eyes. He was wearing black shorts and a grey shirt, and was carrying a red backpack. He looks at the menu for a few minutes, and then asked me what it included, and after I told him, he says he'll take it. We have a large selection of sides at our work place, and people get to order two sides, so after I try to ask him what sides he'd like, he rudely cuts me in at all my inquiries, and after somehow managing to get his order from him after he's cursed at me a few times straight out told me to shut up, and calling me an incessant computer, I took his money (which he rudely tossed on the counter) and handed him his change. Upon handing him his change, he angrily looks and me and yells, "You wanna throw money, well I'll throw it back at you!" And he did. At this point my manager jumped in before he went full rage explosion, and after they settled it, they asked me if I was okay, and I was. A was a little stunned, but more got me through it. See, hilariously enough, I had read something in the morning that was amazingly appropriate for the situation.

Here it is:
“Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.” ~ Buddha

...And so I had another day of existence in this crazy world of mine. Cool, huh?

Suddenly, one of my best friends in real life is one, and he's hiding in the fursuit closet (because a normal closet would imply he's gay. He's not, he's just a furry...he doesn't like fursuits though...fuck this whole addendum is looking more retarded by the minute.). He's apparently been hiding for much longer than anybody could have known. Before people knew I was furry, and that happened YEARS ago. His nickname is Panda because of his huge dark circles, but he's a stag? I'm writing this here because since it's such a huge secret, it might as well stay in the fandom.

...this is strangely a lot to process, but it's nice, I guess?

Seriously, those eeveelution dolls look sweet.

Take a look here!
http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/4934417/

I'm a mix of Pan and Lorna. Cynical and naive at times. Heh,oh well~

I promised myself I wouldn't let it happen again, and here I am, falling into the same ruts again. I'm crushing on a friend. A straight one. He's a pretty close friend, and when I was separated from all my friends, because I just lived too damn far, he was there for me. I guess, I liked that about him. I like a lot of things about him. Why do I always fall for the dumb guys? Maybe because I've taken the time to know him so intimately. I know his kinks, the things he enjoys, the effort he puts into things...Heck, it's done him a lot more good to keep trying at stuff, than for me to just be "smart" and not do things. I still remember that one time I was visiting, and he went to go shower, and he came in shirtless of all things! Oh god, I'm blushing now...I guess this is the intimacy that one feels for friends...but what would normally stop heteros from going farther is the line bordering on "too much bromance,"...and that, is a line I'm willing to cross...yet I know he isn't. I can't put those pressures on him. Maybe I HAVE been lonely too long. I miss the intimacy of having a person to lean on, and the feel of their warmth, their scent on my nose...I'm just...a little angry. I thought I was over this shit. So I feel really stupid as a result.

...I just...

I don't NEED to be in a relationship...I really don't need that right now. There's a lot of things that need to be done, and it'd be hard to do all that with a relationship on top of all those things. I envy my cousin in a small way, because she's managing all the the things I desire, and I just can't help but think that maybe it wouldn't be so bad? School, work and a relationship? She's managed to find someone to support her, even when School and work are her focus...I'm only juggling work, and wow is it kicking my butt. I just keep thinking that it will come when it does. All of the good things in my life have been that way. It's just the way I've developed.

I just...

I want to be sooner than later...

(I'll be okay, folks, it's just a little thing I needed to put out there. Journal thing is still happening, I'm just gathering myself with my new job is all. o_o )

Oh Tijuana, cuantas memorias tengo de ti. I think this is probably where my life reached it's critical point in shaping me. Tijuana was an interesting place. When I first arrived there, it was a city of tourism, with shops selling novelties, gifts, and all sort of Mexican specialties. It was a huge tourist trap. I remember how common it was to see the painted burros (donkeys for my English speakers) with their crazy stripes, making them out to look like zebras. They'd be surrounded by the ridiculous sombreros that befall Mexicans in stereotypical references, and how foreign people would flock to the opportunity to take pictures of the local scenery. It was quite beautiful, in it's own sense. In memories, and in dreams, this is the Tijuana I treasure. Hidden Bazaars, the gentle scent of dust and culture...I remember it all.

I found myself in this place, away from everything I ever knew, when dad was released from jail. For various reasons, dad could no longer stand to live in Los Angeles, and he was expelled from the country he had immigrated to in hopes of a better chance at life. The irony was never lost upon my family. He would have to wait out several years before he would be allowed return back to the states. With my father out, mom took it as a chance to rebuild and start somewhere new with her husband. In Tijuana, he found respite, and freedom from the cage he had been in for so long. As dad began to find a place to settle down in, mom began the arduous process of moving everything she owned to Tijuana. Every weekend, mom began to move things out of the apartment where she lived in, and into storage. After doing that, she would trek the trip to Tijuana with children in tow, and we would spend the weekend...together. I recall this warm feeling that would emanate from my parents as they began closing the years they had been apart for. It was like a second honeymoon for them. I suppose that was my first taste of what having a complete nuclear family was like. Times were nice...we would go out, eat someplace nice, like a Chinese place, or something more familiar, like a McDonalds. This process went on for a while. And then it changed.

To this day, I don't know how it came about that mom decided to leave me in dad's company, but they decided to do it. Maybe it was to expedite moving, or perhaps mom wanted me to have time with dad. For whatever reason, my weekend visits became a permanent stay with dad, and I'll be honest, mom's logic here just doesn't make any sense to me. First of all, there was the fact that we were barely settling in Tijuana. Then, there was the fact that dad had NEVER spent any prolonged time with me. Third, dad had JUST gotten out of jail. Though unspoken of, dad obviously had a lot on his plate at the time. It was...tough. On both of us. I was a picky, stubborn child, prone to fits, and freak outs. How was the guy supposed to handle all that? For all that was dumped on him, dad really did his best. I can't fault him like I did in my adolescence. I'll be honest, dad did a freaking great job. Never did I realize that his coldness resulted from the years of jail time he did. He never turned the frustration of those years upon me, and I although I felt at times like he didn't love me, dad obviously did, with gestures that children never realize or appreciate. When he would take me to school, dad would ALWAYS make sure that I ate something. This is an amazing achievement considering that during the whole year that the moving process took, dad had little to no furniture to speak of. There wasn't a fridge, or a stove...there was hardly any commodities, or even that great of a television. And yet, dad was there. He would buy ice to store food in a cooler. He would even find ways to cook food in a damn rice cooker. All these things went by forgotten when I was young, but as I grow older, I often wonder how dad even managed his feats. Sure, I knew poverty really, really well, but dad pulled me through (with mom's help.) So despite the hell my old man has put me through, I guess I love the bastard.
During this period, I saw so much of Tijuana, and I met so many people. It was a vast and crowded city, with a strange livelihood despite the conditions people sometimes live in. I often feel like such a place instills a sense of survival, of the need to go out and learn the world. For whatever reasons, dad navigated me and taught me a lot. But he wasn't the only one. For the first time, I had peers that weren't family. I had people with which I played with. I learned how bad I was at everything that had to do with sports, but that didn't mean I didn't like to play. There was so much I gained from Tijuana, that I often find myself overwhelmed trying to recollect it all. The people, the sights, the memories...it's all so wonderful to me. I often find I can't return to the places I used to live in without feeling a painful emptiness in my chest. The place isn't the same. The yellow apartments in which I lived in with my father have been overrun by junk that the hermit Cesar has collected. Once having a beautiful view of the outlying hill, as well as the Mexican flag displayed at the distance in the academy at the distance, the place has been swallowed all sorts of trash, very much akin to a dump. Nothing is the same.

Dad took care of me for a year or two, mom visiting on the weekends until the time she finally managed to bring everything. Once she did, we moved across the street from the apartments to the small house my parents rented together. Suddenly there was everything one could want, television, a stove, a fridge...things that some people considered commodities became a luxury to me. My schooling in Mexico was from kindergarden to first grade (boy, was that a strange year.) With our family together, we borrowed the address of a family member, an address that we practically rented out, and I was signed up for school in the States. If I was to be educated, mom wanted me to be educated in the world she wanted me to belong to, the United States. And so began my hard division from a world that I had been born in, and the one I was just getting used to. It was my two worlds.

Every morning, mom, my sister and I would commute across the border, going from one world to another. In one world, I would speak one language, in the other, I would be taught another. To write the words that describe our commute is one thing, but to live it is another. I would often be woken up at the crack of dawn, sometimes as early as 4:30 in the morning. I would be dressed in a practically dead state by dad, while my mom and sister readied themselves. By six am (And this was considered extremely late, by the way) we would leave the house, and cross the border, a journey that sometimes took two or more hours. Mom would drop of my sister off at her high school, and I would be dropped off in the daycare right next to it, and mom would head to work. All of this often happened before 6:30 am. At the daycare, I would have to wait until seven, and go out into the bus stop, a small snack in hand to make for a rushed breakfast and travel all around until the bus made its last stop...my school. I would head inside and make my way to have something to eat if I still had time, and then I would go to the area where my class would would in line for, until our teacher would come for us, and go about class like any other person would. School would end, and then, I would rush out to my bus that would drop me back at my daycare, often being literally the last person on the bus, and wait for mom to take me and my sister back home. Exhausting though it was, this wasn't the hard part of my life. Not by a long shot.

The difficulty that I lived was one of division. See, before my mom even let me go to school she imparted to a sacred duty that I was to follow above all else: Never tell anyone that you live in Tijuana. It would bring up questions, problems, and complications to my strange schooling. I was told excuses, reasons, and lines that I had memorized before even stepping into my classroom. I wasn't allowed to tell anybody. Not even my friends. What did this do to me you ask? Well, it made my not have friends. I can still recall how painful it would me to have to turn down an invitation to a birthday party or something of the sort, because, "My mom was really busy that day," or, "My parents won't let me." Pretty soon I stopped getting invites. Then people stopped talking to me. So during recess, I would sit in the corner of school, and read. Lonely kids attract bullies like carrion to flies. These were my first few years of schooling. Every day I would do the commute and be forced to participate in a world I wasn't fully a part of. Moving schools never changed anything. In fact, the one time I made friends with someone I found myself victim to an almost abusive friendship. I'd get to visit his home, and even visit on weekends, but he'd bully me into searching endlessly throughout the neighborhood while he hid from me in eternal games of hide and seek with his siblings and neighbors...and when I lost, it started all over again. I distinctly recall a time when I was dog-piled by kids for not being able to keep up. I was such a rat at the time, and even when I threatened to tell on him (a child's ultimate weapon), he almost warped some sense of my innocence by telling to go ahead, his mom wouldn't even care. And...he was right. To make matters worse, I was stuck with him. Every day after school, I would join him and head to his house until mom came. Mom could no longer afford the daycare I used to go to, and I had trusted this friend and his mother with the duty I had carried for years. From the start of elementary school, to the end of it, he and his mother were the only ones that knew of my situation. I would sometimes go to the back of the closed neighborhood he lived in, and stare longingly at the place where my daycare was, wishing I could go back. I would beg mom, but I never really got to go back to the place, where I had at least had my own space, and was ignored. For years after that, I would be haunted by his absence. My fear was similar to that of someone who fears an enemy in their midst. If that boy taught me something, it was this: nobody likes a rat.

Mom offered me the chance to move once more, to a middle school with a huge field, a proper library, and an awesome mascot: a knight. I think she knew how much I wanted to start somewhere new. I had, after all, begged her to move me back to the daycare. She moved me every time I grew to hurt by this double world. So she let me see it for myself, right at the time when my elementary schooling was about to end, and gently asked, "Wouldn't this be such a nice school to go to?" I nodded dumbly, almost in a trance by the beauty of the school. I knew it could be possible. "I could make it happen, you know..." and I took the chance. I moved to a school where I was relatively unknown, and where I could enjoy this solidarity. And...I've never regretted my choice. Not only because I ended up not being alone, but because for a while, my two worlds became one...

I tend to have this habit of introducing myself to my journals, sort of as token of good will, or an attempt at befriending my inanimate, and in this case, non-tangential, object. This journal will be just that: and introduction to myself. Considering that I'm being very open with this journal (I'm posting it pretty much on both FA and SF) , this is also a practice in open-ness, as I'm embarrassingly enough, shy...at least online. I'm strangely more open in public, but before I derail my own journal, allow me to introduce myself to all those who were kind enough to look at this journal.

My name is Jose Ricardo. I'm a Mexican American dude living in sunny Southern California. I find myself in my 20th year of existence, about to enter my 21st, where I can claim that all the barriers have been broken, and that I can have a drink without having to ask my parents for permission. Not that I'm some sort of innocent flower. I'll be honest when I say that I not a straightedge. Boy that word feels weird in my mouth. Do people even use that term anymore? I have a close circle of friends, both online and off, as I am a firm believer that quality beats quantity. I also have a single sibling, a sister. We have an age difference of almost exactly 9 years, and I am in fact, the baby of my household. Perhaps this is why I am so young at heart. My sister is happily married with two kids, and I am still in my parents' household, where my need for independence, (coming in due time, I hope) often puts me at odd with my parents. They're loving folks, so we manage pretty well.

I wonder how far I should go into my life...well, maybe I should start at my true beginning, because, it should help explain a couple of things in my life.

...Before my conception, my father was not exactly the kindest person to my mother. He was prone to nights out, and pretty much lived a life of recklessness. So one night, after drinking and having an overall good time, dad was driving home and got into a terrible car wreck. While I've never seen any pictures of the state my father was left in, I am told that he nearly died, and what they've told me always makes me shudder. Luckily, my father survived, as is obvious, or I would not be here. After mending out, dad was detained for a DUI and well...convicted. Somewhere in the whole process of the law, an uncle of my father placed the deed of his farm as the bail for my father, and during the period of his release...well...I was conceived. I realize here that although this is from the private lives of my parents, it is as much a part of me as it is a part of them.

Mom's pregnancies were never easy, but mine was especially problematic. She had no one to support her, and vicious rumors were spread as to my conception. I imagine mom cried a lot. She didn't and couldn't waste her time though. With a daughter to support, and another child on the way...mom pulled through. I'm always in awe of how strong she is. So time went on, and on October 9th, 1992, I was born.

I grew up in a world of Latino influence, with Cumbias, Rancheras, Rock Latino, and Tejano Pop being blasted on the radio (Anybody remember Selena?). My roots are deeply ingrained to my heritage. In the city of Los Angeles, my childhood began it's development with few father figures and male peers, my own dad behind bars. I was raised in a world of women. On the female side, there was mom, my older sister, my aunty Alba (she's my godmother), her daughters, my grandma...it's no wonder why I was one of those unfortunate graces that befall Mexican men...I was a feminine child. That's not to say I was devoid of men in my life. For a while, I had my uncle Hermel, and my cousin Rene (Reh-Neh), as well as the lessons my dad could supply during our visits. My memories of dad during this time are like a gray photograph. Faded and incomplete. Dad and I didn't get along well. It was as if dad would try to impart the wisdom of males on me every time he scolded me during the visits...wisdom on how to not be limp-wristed, how to not cry so much, how to be strong, how to not be female. It's a lot of pressure for a kid. When I would cry in my bedroom in later years, I would think him cruel and heartless. Now, I'm all too aware with painful understanding of what my dad was trying to do, as well as what he was going through. As for my tio Hermel...sometimes I dream of my uncle...he was shot in front of our apartment when I was very young. It's strange for me to think how tragic this was, because my recollection of it is very poor. It's a very painful topic for my family, one that has lead me to learn harsh secrets as to what happened on that fateful day. This however, is private, and I'm sure you won't fault me when I tell you that I cannot tell the truth of that event.

The story of my life continued when dad got out of jail, and a big change occurred in my life, as my mother moved my sister and I from all we ever knew in the streets of Los Angeles to the messy city that is Tijuana, Mexico. It was in this town bordering the glorious United States, where my life became a difficult tale of two worlds...

In an effort to collect my thoughts, it's occurred to me to give journaling a chance. I used to do it before, and it sort of worked. Back then I was concerned with silly things, and the things I used to see (more on that some other time...) I still have the Blank Book where my entries are written. First it was all about news that bothered me about the world, then it slowly descended in a mess of childish prattle. Guess that sort of thing came with the times though. A cynical part and me can't help but feel that this journal will become something like my latter entries: childish prattle. The wiser me says that it probably doesn't matter. What I write today will probably seems childish another day.

And so, I write on. Maybe something nice and organized like this app (the one I'm using to keep all my entries) is what I need to make it all happen. It's hopeful thinking really, but who says that's a bad thing? It's a chance to remake myself. Time to make the best of it.

...Let's hope I stick with this.

I realized. I had overcome you. The feelings you had left in me had long ago vanished. There was no longer love, adoration, and loathing left in me. The feelings which I had so desperately wanted to hold on to had been wiped clean. It was like when one attempts to write a note on a dry erase board. The note I wanted to etch into my heart slowly vanished, and all that remained of the memory was a clean whiteboard, which had once held beautiful, terrifying art. I realized many things on my own and from talks with the people you had once called friend. Most of all, I realized you were probably a really shitty, clingy, parasite of a person, and no amount of good memories will ever dissuade me from that. I realized that the best way to let go, was to actually let go.

Occasionally, I would run into something of yours, since after all, we were in the same circles. I would get this funny feeling in my gut, and I would swear I could hear a strange woosh in my head, and I felt like I was falling. And I guess that's all that remains. A hollow where you used to be. It's almost sad. Almost, I always remind myself. Like a fading dream that fades further into light. Sometimes I like to imagine that the distance between us never occurred, and that we'd still talk about the dumb things we talked about. I used to wish you happiness, but now I wish you meaning. That is much more lasting than happiness, but there's hardly any reason for me to think of these things. All you are now is a what if scenario. As for me, I'm still childish, and there's still that one guy who loves me, that I guess I love too.

...Sometimes I wonder whether he's just pessimistic or really realistic. Is there even a difference? Just the other day, he looked me up, turning up like a lost pet. I was happy I was remembered, but the moment was sorta spoiled by his red rocket. The smut that was the groundwork for our relationship a largas. I'd forgotten how kinky we were with each other, when lonely pangs would make me call out to him, and how I'd cry myself at night, desiring for the intimacy of his body, his warmth next to me. I still smile at the thought.

I still smile.

As much as I'd like to keep barfing up the things one thinks about on a hot Friday night, it's time to sleep. I find myself wishing I had a clapper...

Pleasant dreams everyone.

Sent this to someone's ask on tumblr. They'd requested for someone to finish that line, whether it be anonymously, or public. The words stayed with me though, and I decided to put them out there for them to grow like flowers needing fresh air. Coincidentally, it happens to be very close to Valentine's and I guess I've been thinking about this a lot....This version, by the way, is the full version, since tumblr's ask box is pretty small. It's super corny, but I really like it. It makes me feel like a submissive fool, but eh, whatever.

Anyways,

Here goes.

If I was dating you, I'd spend my time holding your hands. I would rub them gently, as if constantly checking that you were there. I would learn all the things I could about you, and take the time to remember all the easily forgotten or ignored things, like how you smell, or if you like to have fingers run through your hair. I would gently whisper sweet things into your ear as we fell asleep. I would surprise you with impromptu meals I'd cooked or baked and find all the reasons to hold you close. I would rest my head on your shoulders, and enjoy those moments as one does when in a state of pure bliss. I would watch movies with you, and then carefully watch your face whenever the movie got interesting, to try to read you at the peak of the moment. I would lose myself in watching you work, seeing you do your craft, whether it be drawing, writing, cooking, or gaming. I would be brave for you when you needed it, and do my damn hardest to understand when things were wrong. I would rest my head on your chest to hear the sound of your heartbeat, and focus on that sound to fall asleep. I would offer the last piece of candy to you, and smile as I watched you enjoy it. I'd love you like one loves music, poetry and the arts. I would be myself and enjoy each and every day as long as you were by my side.

I had a great time tonight! I'm so sleepy right now, though. The guy was really nice. I'll give more details of the night in the morning.

So as I count down the time until I go meet a local guy I met online, I can't help but get horribly nervous as everybody tells me this is a bad idea. We've all heard the stories: muggings, rapes, tragic accidents. Stuff like that. We all know this crazy, crazy world is filled with crazy, crazy people. I have faith in humanity though, and a sense of adventure. Hopefully that's all I'll need today.

...I'll be honest, I'm pretty scared. I'm meeting him at a mall, and then we're gonna go to a hookah bar. Not partaking in any of the hookah, I hope I'm not a downer. Tabacco, flavored or otherwise is not my thing. Dad is a kind of awfully against it, but I'm not a child, and he's letting me make my choices. Momma is okay with it, but she's nervous as well. They keep doubting my street smarts. Ah well, in that aspect, they're right: one can never be too careful.

The guy's name is Jason. He's twenty, a mix between African American and Latino. I met him on craiglist (I know, not the best of places.) I like to peruse the adds every now and then, but his ad caught my eye. We've talked for a while, and though there was some shadiness going on at first, I'm hoping it all goes well.

So yeah...nervous. I guess I felt the need to spit out those feelings and put them somewhere. Like my tumblr...or FA. I know not a lot people will read this, but still, wish me luck.

3 Things:

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1) Rick
2) Eryth
3) Josie

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1) Eryth
2) BoDx2
3) Raimagus

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1) Optimism absolute!
2) I will fight for what I think is right!
3) I'm bloody honest.

THREE THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1) Very, very lazy
2) Takes me a long time to pull myself together
3) Da Vinci Syndrome

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1) Staying stuck where I am.
2) The people I treasure the most leaving me.
3) Ending up alone with nobody to love me. D:

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1) My Phone
2) My Glasses
3) Everything else.

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1) Unfinished Scarf
2) Shirt that was a gift from my dad
3) Jeans that were a gift from my brother-in-law (they're really nice. ;-;)

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS/SINGERS:
1) The Killers
2) Waails
3) ...I don't listen to much music. ;-;

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS AT PRESENT:
1) Game Select Theme from Neo Geo Bomberman
2) Big Heaven by Waails
3) Minish Village Theme from Legend of Zelda: Minish Cap

THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS
1) Get my Driving License! (Vroom!)
2) Find my niche in the world!
3) Find that dude! D: <

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1) Manliness
2) Defiance
3) Cuddles

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE IN NO ORDER
1) I am brave as hell. D: <
2) I stabbed a dude once
3) I like the color orange

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1) Smell
2) Lips
3) Eyes
:3

THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO:
1) MAKE FUCKING DECISIONS! jdfkdsahdfskjgjk
2) STAY FOCUSED!
3) SHUT UP. Can't do it. D:

THREE THINGS YOU CAN DO:
1) Think about something
2) Get anxious
3) MAKE THINGS HAPPEN! :DDD

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1) Write
2) Play Games
3) Creative Stuff

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1) Get in shape
2) Find that dude
3) Be friends with that other dude.

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1) Something office-y
2) Nurse
3) Physical Therapist

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1) New York
2) All dah Mexico
3) Camino de Santiago de Campostela

THREE KID'S NAMES:
1) Angel
2) Danny
3) Alex
Did I do this one right? o-o

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1) Write a book
2) Move/Travel
3) Fall in Love/Stay in love

Swiped from Mahekun!

Comment and

Im gonna

1. Tell you something I learned about by looking at your FA page for 13 seconds
2. Tell you a colour you remind me of
3. Tell you my first memory of you
4. Ask you a question
5. Tell you something I like about you
6. Give you a nickname
7. Tell you the object that is to the left of me
8. Dare you to do this yourself in your journal

Name: Eryth/Ricardo/Rick
Birthday: October 9
Height: 5'7
Weight: 150. ETERNALLY 150. O:
Eye Color: Hazel
Hair Color: Dark brown~!!!!
Race: MEXICAN~! 'CAUSE I CAN! D:<
Zodiac Sign: Terezi (Libra for all those ((not)) in the know)

DO YOU...
Drink?: Very rarely, with friends at parties. (So almost never. ;-;)
Smoke?: No. Just no.
Use Drugs?: HELL NAH!
Cuss?: HELL FUCKING YEAH MUTHA-FUCKAH~ YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH~!
Play Any Instruments?: Um....um...um...nooooo~
Have Any Piercings?: No...but I kinda find that kinky in others.
Have Any Tattoos?: Nope~
Like To Annoy People?: IT"S LIKE MY HOBBY, BITCHES.
Like Life?: I <3 LIFE. FOREVER.
Wear Make-Up?: ...I kinda wanna put on some when you bring it up like that...>.> (I don't though.)
Dye Your Hair?: Nopes~
Scream At The top of your lungs for no reason?: When I'm alone. (Which is often. xD)
Get Distracted By Shiny Objects?:Uhhh.....nooooooo---what's that shiny thing?! 8D
Like Pina Coladas?: Yeah, sorta~
Like Getting Caught In The Rain?: Depends on what I'm wearing. ...Or who I'm with~ ;D

ARE YOU...
Dependable?: Sorta?
Trustworthy?: Fuck yeah~ No, wait. I dunno. You decide.
Obsessive?: Oh God, yes.
Hyper Active?: Often.
Happy?: IS THERE ANY OTHER EMOTION?!
Content?: WITH LIFE? FUCK NO, GIMME MY BOYFRIEND!
Boring?: OH MY GOD, I HOPE NOT. ;-;
Violent?: Kinda.
Evil?: Dark is evil, and light isn't good. So...no?
Hippie-Ish?: PATCHOULI, EW.
Shy?: Sorta? But I can overcome that pretty easily.
Paranoid?: WHO WANTS TO KNOW!? (Uh...yeah. xD)
Annoying?: Yeah, I think so.
Social?: Yes and no.
Religious?: I BELIEVE! :D

WHATS YOUR FAVORITE...
TV Show?: SWAT KATS: The Radical Squadron~
Movie?: Amélie
Band/Singer(s)?: I'm too uncultured in Music to come up with an answer...^^;;
Song?: The Grand Duchy of Jeuno (Ahh~ Nostalgia.)
Book/Story?: I have soooo many choices, and if I just picked ONE I would betray all the emotions and feelings that each book gave me. SO NO FAVORITE.
Color(s)?: Red...for now.
Shape?: Dah fuck? ...I'm answering Cuneiform just to mess with this shiet.
Animal?: I dunno.
Person(s)?: My brother Greg, My man Jullian, and my jerky friend Donald. :3
Smell?: Sweat and, Cake, and Food, and anything cooked by my mama.
Flower?: ...Uh....Lilies?
Subject?: English
Board Game?: Connect 4
Musical: Grease, FUCK YA'LL BITCHES.
Sport?: Ehh...no. ...Maybe Futbol. That's soccer for ya'll Americans.
Word?: otorhinolaryngologist...Just to mess with this AGAIN.
Quote?: ..."Because there will always be a small part of me that loves you like that."

Hobby?: Writing, and videogames.
Store?: It was Borders, but now it's Barnes and Noble.
Season?: Fall
Time Of Day?: Midnight hour to burn the Midnight oil, and to stare at the stars with those I love.

WHATS YOUR...
Worst Fear?: That my procrastination will make me miss out in life.
Life Goal?: Be independent.
Greatest Accomplishment?: Being lucky as fuck~

WHICH ONE...
Pepsi Or Coke?: Coke
McDonald's Or Burger King?: Burger King
Converse Or Vans?: ...Vans...>.>
Dogs Or Cats?: ...Dogs
AIM, YIM Or MSN Messenger?: MSN
Chicken Or Fish?: Chicken
Black Or White?: ....AGH! Uh...white? Black? I DON'T KNOW!
MTV Or FUSE?: NINGUNO.
MP3 player, ipod or CD player?: iPod
Pants Or Shorts?: Pants


DO YOU BELIEVE IN...
God?: Yes
Heavan & Hell?: Yeah...but I sometimes don't want to...
Reincarnation?: I don't know.
Yourself?: Of course.
Ghosts?: Yeah.
UFOs?: Eh.
Big Foot?: No.
Lockness Monster?: Loch Ness is fake, WHY DON'T PEOPLE KNOW THIS?!
A Thing Called Love?: What is love? Baby don't hurt me...


WOULD YOU EVER...
Kill Someone Else?: If I needed too.
Kill Yourself?: Seriously...my pride would probably stop me.
Beg For Money?: All my pride. All of it.
Skydive?: No.
Bunjee Jump?: Nope.
Run Away From Home?: Already (kinda) happened bro.
Ride A Motorcycle?: Yeah~
Do Extreme Sports?: Nope~


MORE ABOUT YOU...
Do You Own A Car?: No.
Ever Been To Jail?: No.
Ever Gotten Kicked out?: Yes.
Do You Have A Job?: No.
Do You Like Taking Surveys Like This? Eh, I'm partial.

DONE~ AND I TAG, Wait I don't have to nobody. Cool. DO IT IF YOU WANT.

Watch this. Do it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4MnpzG5Sqc