The night was cool, like any other night on the island. The stars were twinkling like they do and amazingly enough I had seen two shooting stars. One of them being the most amazing one I'd seen ever — bright and bold. We were sitting side by side, staring at the ocean getting ready to close the night. Our knees pulled up to our chests, arms enclosing them. 

"You know what my favorite thing to learn about people is?"
"What?"
"Their damages."

I could almost feel him quickly zooming back into his past, reliving all the damages that I likely will never know about in just a split second. 

"Is it relationships?"
"Mostly."
Silence.
"Mostly, anyway. There's other stuff like family. But it's mostly relationships"

Something that is very easily noticed about me is that I like to ask the hard questions and I'm not afraid of them. The problem is that people are afraid of their pasts, they're afraid to answer the questions. They don't want to open up Pandora's box. For me, though, that box is the key to the person that you are. It's something that must be held tightly and accepted in order to move forward. I my past in a locket around my neck, displayed loudly and proudly. I'm not afraid to dish as long as you're not afraid to listen. 

I look at people and I observe them, trying to figure out the facade. I try to figure out where they are coming from, why they are the way they are. Speculate the possibilities of the way that they interact behind the happy girl, the cool guy and the passive-aggressive figurehead. 

I was told this morning that someone mentioned that they were glad to see this guy with someone nice — despite the nothing that is going on.

"I like you Rizzle"
"But you don't know me. How could you possibly like me?"
"Maybe I don't like you but I'm definitely attracted to you."

"Hey. Are you still under that impression that you're attracted to me?"
"Maybe."
....
"I'm still in that area in which I believe it's best that you don't like me"
"That's just your stubbornness. I'll do what I want."

Dear land person, 

I still don't know myself yet. I'm going to twist and turn and change right before your very eyes, I'm pretty sure. I'm still young. But at the same time, I'm still knowledgeable about things that most people my age won't figure out for another five years. You tell me that you've had better conversations with me than most people YOUR age. My foundation will remain the same and I will always be the fearless badass who you don't know yet. So at least you have that. 

The reason I don't believe you should like me is because I'm a hard ass. I call things like they see it and I hold stronger to my ground than the C-stands you throw sand bags on. I'm going to make you talk in ways that you never thought you could talk to a person you'd just met. I'm going to impress the fuck out of you because I'm not going to be like any girl you've ever met. And I will never give a shit what people think about me as long as I know in my heart that I'm in the right. I am fearless. And you should be scared. 

I'm going to attempt to make you think about things you don't want to think about.

I'm going to do everything I can to open up your Pandora's box. 

You better run before I get interested. 

I don't believe you should like me because once you see me standing in front of you holding that box, I know you will run. 

But I don't know you. So maybe I'll be impressed. 

Dear person without land, 

I'm sorry that I didn't even pick the box up for you.

Despite the fact that I already knew what was inside. I'm sorry I fucked things up for us. All because I let you hold the box and I turned away. I'm sorry that I — we — screwed up a kind of connection that most people search their entire lives for. Just promise me you won't ever do this again. Though now that we're over and done with, I'm here holding up that  box in the hopes you won't run from me anymore. In the hopes you will stop being so scared of talking now that I'm no longer yours and you no longer have to fear hurting me. Something I should've done a long time ago. I'm still not going anywhere.

But I'm glad you love me too. And I'm glad we cleared that up.

Damaged Goods

I don't want a package that comes in nice, neat and pristine. That's boring and uninteresting and fake. That's nonexistent and I know it. 
It's not that I'm looking for damaged goods. It's just that I know that all the goods are damaged. Just gotta find someone whose damage is worth working with and who will let me work with it. It's not the label that matters — because that's just something that was highlighted that didn't need to be—, it's the openness to the fact that it's there.

"I'm a bad person."
"What makes you say that?"
"It's not that I think I'm a bad person. It's just that. I think I'm more open to myself, who I am."

Exactly.

And thanks. You gave me some pretty awesome quotes to work with. 

-- ZelleZ

“I love you" doesn’t mean “I want to be with you" or “I’m in love with you" or “FUCKING YOU LOVE ME OR I WILL DIE". 

As someone who is completely in love with the world, all her friends and God; I would like you to remember that.

"I love you" means I love you. It means I unconditionally, irrevocably love you. As in, I really care about you. As in, if for some reason you feel like no one is there for you, I am and always will be. As in, you are extremely important to me.  As in, I will do anything to make you feel like you are and deserve to be loved.

And it doesn’t have to be romantic. Most of the time, it isn’t. 

That’s what I mean when I say I love you.

So don't get your fuckin' panties twisted when I say it. 

That’s all. 

-- ZelleZ

Stupid. 

Well obviously the countdown is postponed with the recent announcement of the deadline being pushed back. 

I'm half-dead typing this. I was going to go on a boat and decided nevermind so I could take on some work duties. So I started doing scheduling and emailing and a bunch of other craps for work. Talked to the production manager for our film and she went ahead and made me her assistant. Spent some time trying to get some way to feed our crew. 

In the meanwhile, I'm completely paranoid that my actual boss is ignoring me. I know he's all busy and crap but his brother replied to my texts dangit. I don't want to stress out over this but this is it. I can't lose this and I know if I do then it is my fault. Boss-man told me to step up my game on Friday's meeting and I know I need to. I get that. School's made me lose my mind the last few months (and he knows it) but I've finally got all the time in the world to do what I love. This. This thing. It's. It's. Everything depends on this. I can't lose this one too. 

And I'm sitting here, staring at the ceiling and asking if this is some kind of punishment. Asking if it's against His will for me to carry on with this. Next to Him this is the thing I am most passionate about. This is my life. This is the only thing I've ever been about and I wasted three years not budging — slacking. And I don't want to slack anymore. Everything is finally in a place that I want it to be. But here I sit, 30 hours before we start principle photography and I am flipping out all because I haven't heard from him. I mean, I know that the facebook message hasn't been read but. I don't know. It's so busy right now but it's so hard to insert myself and be persistent if I'm not getting a response.

Deep breath. 

But who the hell am I. This isn't you, girlfriend. What happened to the girl whose calculus teacher swore no one would ever be able to get rid of? What happened to the girl who was so eager to get into the place that she was that she sent e-mails to follow up? What happened to the girl who took on 40 things at once and never budged? How did she come to the point where she feels completely incapable of doing the things she wants to do?  Why is she settling for letting things slide back? Why? 

Fuck that. You need to claw your fucking way back in the way you love to do. You need to stop taking no for an answer because you don't even know the meaning of the word unless it's coming out of your mouth. 

The only thing that you can allow to get postponed is the fucking countdown to Xanga 2.0 because that shit is happening. Because you know it is. You fucking believe it is.

And fuck who gives two shits if you're wrong?

You're going places, Zelle. Kurt once wrote, "hands down, you are THE person who sees things through. you've got a passionate spirit and i genuinely believe that you're going somewhere with your life."

Don't fucking let people like that down. They need someone to remind them that anything is possible. 

That when you fall, the only person who needs to laugh is you. Because of the ground you smushed. 

And one day your project will come to life. You're gonna change the world one day, girl. Hell, maybe you already have.

-- ZelleZ

P.S. Hey, your boss from Texas just endorsed you for being fucking awesome on LinkedIn. (actually it's for editing, that thing you love but keep it up because it's what you know. It's what you got and it's BA.) Not too shabby, Miss "Most Likely to Edit a Video".

P.P.S. Get your laptop fixed. It's really getting in the way. 

So as we wind down to the potential last seven days of Xanga, I'm going to make it a point to blog each day until the last. It'll be semi-relevant to past posts things but mostly ramblings, I think.

Its' 1AM and I'm pretty pooped. The last few days I've spent doing nothing but look through and work on this old series that I worked on forever ago. I haven't touched it in 6 years. Way back when I called it a "drama series" and it really is. I used to blog about it back in the day (you can find some entires if you look). I have to admit that I've brought down the comedy a couple of notches and darkened it a little bit to keep it as dramatic as I had intended when I was 13. I also adjusted some backstories and beliefs in order to make the characters more realistic. Here's an example using one of the female characters: 1. At 13, I wrote her to have zombie slayer parents with the ability to talk to the dead and use magic; 2. At 14 I changed it so that she used magic; 3. Now, I changed it so that she has a heavy belief that spirits are everywhere, she doesn't do magic but it's sort of her religion. All of the characters are still built the same — their emotional states and mannerisms are still the same. Their foundations haven't changed at all. 

This was the part that I found interesting. As I started to write the character profiles based on the scripts and rough drafts (and one final draft) of character profiles I wrote, I started to notice some interesting parallels to the characters I had written and some of the people I know now. At 13, I loosely based all of the characters on the people who I wanted to play them — their interests and how they talk. Other than that, there is almost no resemblance to the characters and the people who I wrote them for. I created their emotional states and mannerisms mostly from scratch, except for the character who is based off of me. As I started to read through the scripts, I started to see conversations that had actually happened in real life or similar conversations. As I finished up each character profile, I would stare at the screen and instantly thought of someone who it reminded me of. It was completely uncanny, especially since I didn't know these people 6 years ago. I wrote a character for someone who is my best friend now. Her character is nothing like her but we weren't very good friends at the time and I thought she'd make a great antagonist. As I started to write the character profiles, I gave her a call because I found that she had some striking similarities to one of the main characters. 

As we spoke more about the similarities to the characters and the people I am close to now, she responded with "psychology". "You wrote those characters as people you would be attracted to [platonically and romantically] so years later [when I'd have forgotten all about them] of course you'd see similar characteristics of someone you wrote and someone you're close to," she said. I paraphrased a bit. However, the message is just the same. I was just fascinated, though. I couldn't help but be amazed that I basically wrote the people I would care most about into my life. As I continue to work on the stories of and mature and shape these characters I wonder what this means for my friends and I. I wonder what that means for me and whether or not I'll find any more people to fill or take over the roles. I wonder if this is it for us and if we're basically stuck with each other. I wonder how relevant the stories I wrote will be in five years. Fascinating, isn't it?

I figure that I won't do anything with these for quite a number of years. Maybe I'll store them forever and keep them close to my heart as my little secrets. I'm actually really glad that we never got around to creating the series. Once I'm done writing the stories and the scripts, I don't ever want to touch them again (rewriting them), though. I feel like after this, there will be a lot less meaning to the story and it will lose itself. I don't want that. The stories, especially with the rewrites, make statements and are very thought provoking. They might not make everyone reflect on themselves but that's what I aim to do with these. I'd like to change some things with this story and I think they're pretty great. It's more than a reflection of what is but is also a proposal of what should be. And that's just sort of what it turned into.

What was once a story of five teenagers who were going through normal and abnormal teen things, turned into a story of five teenagers growing and maturing the way that they should while they were going through normal and abnormal teen things. The stories are all the same, I haven't changed the story lines and how the teenagers grew but the growth is a lot more intense and prominent and gradual, rather than a slap in the face that doesn't stick the next episode. The teens figure things out at 15 that I hadn't figured out at 18. Though seemingly unrealistic at this point in time, it's because throughout each situation, the teens take a step back and assess what is going on — something that we've all needed to do at some point in time. I created abnormal teenagers. I only hope that they don't stay within the perimeters of the screen.

-- ZelleZ

It was a discussion of characters that made all the sense in the world. Perfect. They are perfect for each other.  Too perfect for each other. Their personalities perfectly conform to the other's. It achieves balance. 

"That's why they can't be together," he said. "It can't happen. If they get together it's like the birth of Christ all over again."

And I couldn't help but notice how much that makes sense. Two people so ridiculously perfect for each other that people actually mentally ship them together — and probably write fictions about it. You look at them and you see just how much they could actually work. 

But then at the same time you see that it doesn't. It makes so much sense that it can't happen. It works too much that it doesn't. It's too good to be true. Surreal. Unbelievable. Legitimately perfect. But it can't happen all because of that. 

Meant to be but not meant to be all at the same time. 

It is and yet it isn't.

What it is. Isn't. Even though it is. 

Do you understand?

-- ZelleZ

It's kind of a work in progress but it's definitely something to ponder. I think a lot of people would agree when they say that fifteen years old was probably the highest point in their lives. In fact, many people long for that fifteen year old self because of how amazing they had it. 

When I was fifteen, I was dead set on film and let it be known. When I was fifteen, I was throwing the best non-destructive and family friendly parties that still get referred to five years later. When I was fifteen, I was happy and young and in love. When I was fifteen I was freakin' untouchable and life had barely grazed the surface. When I was fifteen I had it all. 

But here's the thing about fifteen. 

"....our friendship is fifteen. We think we know everything but we don't."

You think you know everything but you don't. Being fifteen you thought you had it all, you had it all figured out. You knew what you wanted and you knew where you were going. You're young and naive and you're so in love with love that you don't even realize all of the things that are so much bigger than yourself that are awaiting you. 

A couple of years later you realize you don't have it all figured it out. It isn't until later that you realize that life can bite pretty damn hard and that it has sharp teeth. And when we get to that point, of course we're going to long for the happy times. Those happy times when you used to roll around in the grass staring at the sun with a couple of friends without a care in the freakin' world. 

It perplexes me to find people who still want to be fifteen when I've obviously moved past my fifteen year old self. I love her, I loved that but I refuse to live my life staring at the rearview mirror into the past. You keep doing that and you are bound to crash into something. I get it though. The past. It's really hard to let go, no matter what bad could possibly could come out from holding onto that. But the tighter you hold onto something that is of your past the harder it will be for you to have a future.

Even if you tried, you will never be able to relive your experiences or get back the things you used to have. It won't happen. 

So no, you'll never be as happy as when you were fifteen.

But you know what? You'll never be as happy as when you were eighteen. Or twenty. Or twenty five. 

So do me a favor and take a step back. Breathe in. Now let it out. Now find your happy right now within yourself. It exists, no matter what you think. Find it. And hold onto it. And embrace it. Hold that blessing close to your heart. And do this every day. Because if the fact that you are living and completely capable of making a difference for yourself and for the rest of the world (come on people, live for something bigger than yourself) isn't a blessing to you, then you need to hold the breath in a little bit longer.

If you don't you'll hate yourself when you're old and withering away, looking back at your past. Because who doesn't regret the time they wasted on something they didn't need to? No one. 

-- ZelleZ

I think if I were to want to publish a book on my life experiences, I wouldn't want to write it at the end. I mean, sure I can look back at what I've learned and write insightful things about how beautiful things are now that I've gotten through the hoops. But I don't think that's good enough for me. I'd prefer the raw feeling of what is happening in that moment rather than a distorted view of my life fifty years from now. I guess I would want my audiences learning as I do rather than after I learned all the lessons. To me, that feels a little more real to read and maybe even more relatable. I don't always like what I read from 4 years ago but that's a learning experience and I can pull from that later.

It's kind of like writing about a science experiment. First you write about your initial thoughts about a situation — this also includes what you think could happen. Then you write about things as it is happening as well as your thoughts as it is happening. Then you later write about what you learned from the experience. I mean, I prefer that over a flashback to the moment and what you think of that moment now. I'd rather watch the process, see the evolution for yourself. As bothersome as that raw emotion and thought might be, I think that might have a deeper impact for those who take the time to not be afraid to read them.

If I were to publish a book about my life experiences, xanga entries would have a pretty major part of that. I'd include entries and journals as well as the after thoughts from whenever I publish it. I mean, when you grow up you almost end up a completely different person. So I think that having the actual voice of the person you used to be, their testimony, would make reading a book like that more authentic. 

I think it makes sense.

Right? 

-- ZelleZ

Has been stuck in my head for a little while and it hasn't been in a very, very long time. I remember pretty well what it was like when it was, though. So I listened to it for a while and started to leaf through older blogs and just reminisced to the time. It was early fall semester (August/September) of 2011. 2011. It seems like yesterday but so far away at the same time. 

When I listen to music, it brings me back to certain moments. For example, when I listen to "Boomerang" by The Plain White T's, I am instantly brought back to the summer of 2011. I remember the late car rides and conversations and nights with hot tea. As far back as it is, I can feel every day of that summer. I can smell the smoky, dimly lit pool hall and the brownies I made every other week and the avocado clay masks and Sal's house. "Stay With Me" is no different.

Just sitting here and listening to the song. It takes me back. Reminds me of times. I can smell the room I slept in before I moved it all to the second room. The hair dye I used to dye half my head red. My sheets. The feel of how uncomfortable that bed was. That period of time my older sister and I had a falling out. It was horrific and irritating at the same time. That period of time, that one guy and I were having pretty severe communication issues and I was deathly afraid that we were going to crash and burn. And my room smelled like nail polish too often. But that might've been the most of my complaints. My family issues are generally shrugged off and he helped me deal with it. He reminded me that I've had this amazing second family standing right in front of me who, quoting him, "will always be there for you [me] no matter what". I had never felt so unbelievably loved by so many people before and I can't even explain how incredible that feeling is. And despite the issues, we were hopelessly head over heels in love with each other. It was so surreal that we couldn't stand it, which is why we feared so much we would fall apart — we believed that it was "too good to be true". I remember some nights we would be together, just talking and laughing and rolling around and I swear my heart would be so close to exploding right there. My career with the film festival had just started then, too, and I was through the roof excited for it to start. I just remember it being such a high point of my life — like the rest of 2011 was. 

I can't ever find
The words to say
You changed my life
In ways that I can't explain

My career is still climbing. I'm getting to places I never would have imagined I would go, at least not this quickly. 

That specific second family? We've kind of dwindled. Tea Time isn't exactly the same as it used to be. Maybe the anniversary party will help. But different issues have come up with all of us separately and at some point, we stopped being as together as we used to be. The girls fell apart. We have tried to reanimate the group but things kept getting in the way. I miss them terribly, though. And I would love everything to be able to come together again. Believe me, though, I do love Tea Time still (doesn't hurt to admit that I miss the girls though). I might not have my FRUIT[S] but the bears are some kind of wonderful. I love them just as well. In any case, I don't think my second family would ever oppose reunions. Despite the distance, I know the love is still there. I believe it will always be there. 

Goodness, I can just imagine Tea Time 20 years from now. How amazing would that be? 

As for that relationship, we didn't crash. We didn't burn. But we'd been driving with a tire full of cracks and it finally popped. Probably should've worked on those communication issues more after his return. Maybe. In the end, I will still love him to pieces in the way I that I do (generally speaking). And I know we still believe that it was far too good to be true. I suppose, then, that it was. 

I was lucky in love to find all of this. God granted me much much more than I could have ever deserved and He still continues to bless. Oh, how He loves. 

When you listen to music sometimes it brings you back to a moment and how you deal with that moment is really up to you. You can make it a bad or good experience for yourself. It took far too long for me to finally listen to David Choi again and, still, I am struggling to not get led bad memories get brought on by him. And that's a problem from 2010. The best thing is when you turn that memory to be grateful for. Push forward and make it better. I've got my share of songs to be bitter about, but you know what? That's a waste of time. I've actually been able to turn those thoughts connected to songs into happier thoughts for me. As for the happy moments you lost? Stay happy about it. I still am.

2013 may be a shit year and I would trade it in for another 2011 any day. But I can't; this isn't two years ago. BUT, I can still smile about it when it comes to mind, which is just as good.

My least favorite part of a break up is dealing with people afterwards. 

I don't know what it is but EVERYONE has to give their two cents of wisdom about a romance that they weren't involved in. It ranges from advice on coping, advice on moving on, reassurance that everything is okay, and advice on relationships in general. And it's not that I don't appreciate the sentiment — I do — but holy crap, what is it about people that make them think that every break up is a sob story waiting to be published into a 200 page novel for everyone to cry about? Just, really, I'm fine...can you just....let it go? I feel like I got over it faster than you did and it wasn't your relationship.

The following phrases never fail me:

1. What happened?

I love people who come up to me and don't know me or haven't spoken to me in months and ask this question. As if there is some tragic reason for the split. As if THEY could fix our problems for us and everything will be dandy. No. No. No. Why does this matter? It happened. It isn't up to anyone but us to come to terms with the specifics and deal with them ourselves. And having people butt in and try to offer wisdom of something that they have no context about is a HUGE problem that needs to stop. Those almost never fail to hinder actual solutions to things. 

2. Are you okay?

No. I can't stop crying and I'm gaining 30 pounds from all the brownies I keep making. Okay, I get that people aren't always okay; some days you just really won't be but that happens. But I'm not dying. In my book, that's okay. I mean, other than the one minor detail everything is basically perfect. Continuing to dwell in not-okayness is 1. not my style and 2. just not productive. Even if you aren't okay, remaining upset about something that happened for three months isn't going to fix you, you gotta fix yourself. 

I just I can't stand this question. I just feel like the tone of my voice when I tell that we've broken up should be a dead give away. 

3. Awww, don't worry. Everything will be okay.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. What? I know that. I know you mean well but when I say absolutely nothing that implies that I'm upset about it or that I'm not taking it well, this phrase is thoroughly unnecessary; "how are you and that guy?" "we broke up" "awwww, it's okay, everything will be fine" "uhm...yeah...we're...fine..."

4. Don't worry, you'll find someone

I AM NOT WORRIED. STOOOP IIIT. Also, being a part-time feminist, this really rattles my bones. This is my BIGGEST pet peeve. I HATE this. And it isn't a whole "I don't need no man" thing. It's I know how to take care of myself. I know how to complete myself. I don't need anyone at all to do that. I'm not worried about finding someone. I couldn't care less about finding someone. I really don't give a damn. I don't look. I just wait to stumble upon something interesting and if it were to happen, then it would. I just like being independent. I'm a control freak. Sue meeeee.

I think my favorite response to the break up is one of our good friends. She mentioned something about a potential future and I looked around at the group and then I turned to her and I go "oh, you don't know" and she goes "no...I don't...." and I go "we broke up..." and she goes "oh...yeah, I didn't know". And that was it. I mean, is that so complicated? If I cared enough to talk about it, I would. So...can we just move past that conversation?

And you know what I absolutely hate? People who think I'm lying about not being okay. People assume that a break up means that you're going to throw yourself in a downward spiral. If you do that, well...that's really your problem...but it isn't mine. I mean, I got over the break up pretty quickly. As frustrating as it was, it didn't take very long for me to pack it into a box and write "late 2010 - early 2013" with a black sharpie on it for storage. 

I get it — change is HARD. And it's really hard to accept it when things don't work out and you will wonder what you could've done right. But this is how I look at it: even if there were a million things you could've done right but didn't, God will let you know if He thinks you should try it again. You have forever to figure out what is and isn't right and the entire thing IS a learning process. Don't long for it, don't hope for it, don't expect it. Just look forward to YOUR future. If for some crazy reason God says "let's do this one more time", then just roll with it. However, if He doesn't, then you roll with that too. Someone interesting will come along and you will wonder what the hell you were doing before.

In the meanwhile, quit LOOKING for someone to make you whole. Quit your stupid sappy tragic "forever alone" crap. You know a problem is when people who don't fully heal and get themselves get into relationships without repairing the damage themselves. You end up carrying your baggage — your trust issues, your paranoia, your fear, your anger — into a relationship that will have a whole set of its own problems. Take some breathing time. Find yourself, heal yourself, take care of yourself. If you're a believer, serve Him and trust that He will take care of you because He probably already is. Even if you were meant to be alone, at least then you'd be happy about the amazing things you do have — your friends, your career, your hobbies, your LIFE — rather than moping around something you don't. People don't smell the roses often enough and it was a problem that I'm trying not to have anymore.

It isn't easy, I know that much. But it isn't as hard as it seems. I promise you that it was not as easy for me as I'm making it seem; there was just so much amazing potential and coming to that "I think we dug ourselves into a hole that we can't get out of" place is really sucky. I just feel like it is a choice to get up and roll on, because getting up is the hardest part. But once you get that ball rolling, moving past it is like cake.

Look, I'm not a bag of wisdom or a fortune cookie or a magic 8 ball. I don't have all the answers. But this is my two cents and it's up to you to take it.

-- ZelleZ

Well now this could be the last of all the rides we take
So hold on tight and don't look back
We don't care about the message or the rules they make
We'll find you when the sun goes black

With the recent announcement of the possibility of Xanga going down, Xangans all over — and contrary to some people's belief, there are more than five of us — are posting up their farewell/Xanga experience blogs. This will be no different. When I read about the potential and totally possible fall of this beloved website, I instantly went into panic mode. The idea of readjusting everything just freaked me out so much. At the same time, I wasn't surprised that this came about. Things have been running away from me one after the other since 2013 started. 

I've been a user since I was twelve. Yeah, I was one of those irritating "hai gaize i just got off 4rm sk00l" kids — sue me. That's eight years on Xanga in general and six and a half on this user alone (I finally settled on one blog). And since I've had this one particular website, it has been my best friend. It sounds really sad, sure. But Xanga holds so many secrets and stories from my past and my present and then some. This blog has seen me grow and change in ways that I never thought would be possible. And it rips me right open to think that I won't be able to browse through my archive like I love to on days when it's rainy and sick to laugh at all the silly things I used to say. 

For as long as I have been able to, majority of my thoughts — happy or sad — have been documented in writing and Xanga soon became my primary vessel of doing so. Whenever I had something to say about myself, the world, life or that random guy who slept at one of the bus stops in my neighborhood I wrote. When my first boyfriend broke my itty bitty heart, I wrote. When my family pissed me off, I wrote. When I realized how much my old friends hadn't grown up, I wrote. When I realized that I was in an abusive relationship, I wrote. When I wanted to gloat about how my team won the superbowl, I wrote. When I graduated, I wrote. When I fell in love with that kid I used to bump into at the mall, I wrote. When I figured out what path I wanted to go down career-wise, I wrote. When I found God, I wrote. And when I figured out that I still hadn't figured anything out yet, I wrote. And I wrote it all here. 

This blog tells you all about my first love to my most recent. It tells you that my ultimate goal was to have a page on Wikipedia and now it's to get everyone I care about the most to love themselves and the world and be completely and irrevocably happy with their lives. It tells you all about the things that have changed and even the things that didn't. It tells you of the mistakes I've made and the number of times I had to make them in order for me to learn from them. All the while, it helped me to develop my style as a blogger and a writer and helped me to maintain what sanity I had left. This blog is the story of the last almost seven years of my life and the fact that I may just have to see it go stings a lot.

And even though I was still getting that whole "YOU'RE STILL ON XANGA?!" reaction, its recent decrease in popularity helped me to regain my confidence in my blogging knowing that my audience was small. [Of course, recently my popularity has grown but I quite enjoy it] Plus, I am very loyal and Xanga was very familiar and so community based without the stupidity of the outside internet world getting in...at least most of it. 

So what do I do now? Now, I continue to blog until the day the Xanga Team announces its fate. Meanwhile, I'll continue to make the proper plans to choosing and transferring to another blogging website. If and when the day comes, my entire archive will be downloaded and in the near future will be printed and binded into the book that I always planned to create since 2008. I'll title it "The Xanga Days" and I'll keep it with the rest of my journals. 

In any case, if you're curious what happens to me should Xanga shut down, shoot me an e-mail at thejellogirl@gmail.com and I'll mail you my situation if it happens. 

All my love to my fellow Xangans and the Xanga Team for choosing us and not them (as in "the man"),

-- ZelleZ

Cause you only live forever in the lights you make
When we were young we used to say
That you only hear the music when your heart begins to break
Now we are the kids from yesterday