Post by rita elaine monzano on Aug 31, 2010 22:24:43 GMT
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RITA ELAINE MONZANO ,,
rita. nineteen. local. straight. bonnie wright.
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"First of all, I'm a pretty easy-going person. I'm not too serious about most stuff. Just because I quite the whole partying mentality and behavior doesn't mean I'm a prude or a stick-in-the-mud. On the contrary, I think I'm much more fun now that I'm NOT on drugs. When I was wasted constantly, all I wanted to do was lay around and get more wasted. Now I have a lot more time for things that are actually fun, though sometimes it's hard to convince people of that. Most people that knew me before think I'm going to be some stuck-up bitch who tells them how to live their life. I'd never do that. I'm totally non-judgemental when it comes to other peple's lives: they can live them however they choose. Of course, if someone comes to me for advice, I will give them my opinion. I think that's my duty as a human being, to be honest and leave the bullshit out. I think it makes me a good person to go to with problems, as long as the person actually wants some advice, instead of validation.
I'm definately a people person. I'm pretty friendly and outgoing most of the time. I guess I can be a little too much for people sometimes, especially if they don't know me. I can be quite loud and, truth-be-told, obnoxious. Not in a rude way, really, just in an over-the-top personality way. Lots of people are turned off by that, actually. That's why I don't make the best first impressions. But my second and third impresions are really good! Once you get past my loudness and stuff, I'm quite a good friend. I'm really loyal, once I consider you part of my family, I'll defend you to the near-death. And it's not exactly hard to become a part of 'family'. I tend to trust people really easily. I also like a great variety of people, no matter if their personality clashes with mine or not. It's gotten me into trouble before, trusting and liking the wrong kind of people, but I can't help it. I believe in the good within us all.
One thing I am rather serious about is my feminism. I can't stand chauvinistic or misogynistic tendencies in men. I'm a very independent woman, and I DON'T need a man to define myself, thank you very much. I can be, and am, friends with many men, but I don't allow them to be a jerk or a sexist in front of me. I will not be called 'baby' or 'darling' or 'dear' or 'sweetie' and I will not sit by and be treated as an inferior because of my gender. I am, proudly, imune to the 'charms' of the male species, and have never been in love. I don't deny love, and I don't deny that it could happen someday, but I don't live my life as a quest for romance. You can be certain that if I hear a male, or female, debasing the female gender, they will get an earful from me.
Okay, on to my likes and dislikes, I guess. My main love in life is writing. I've always kept a journal, as long as I can remember, and I have all of them in my closet at home. My drug-days ones are certainly the most interesting and the darkest, though I feel I can write better now that I'm clean. My wish is to one day write a novel, or a screen play, or a comic book. All three interest me greatly, and I have a huge collection of books and movies in my room. That's usually what I'm doing when I'm not working; reading or watching Lord of the Rings, which are some of my favorite movies. Though Forrest Gump has to take the top spot. 'Everyone calls me Bubba. Just like one of them redneck boys, can you believe that?' Priceless. I also like taking walks around Cornwall, especially in the twilight hours, when I'm not working. Music is something else I really enjoy. I can play the piano, though we don't own one, so I rarely do play. Some other random things I like: autumn, practical jokes, ice cream, oversized sweaters, boots, organized mess, tennis, muted colors, learning, language.
What I dislike is harder... Well, obviously I hate a sexist. But you know that already. I hate feeling like I've disappointed anybody. I really pride myself on being a good friend and a loyal person, and when I feel I've let someone down I sort of fall apart. I also don't like people who gossip a lot, or who are mean to people. I just find that there's absolutely no reason to be mean to a person or to spread lies about the person behind their back. I'm nineteen, already, I'm much too old for petty shit like that. I tend to avoid people who are really into partying and rugs and stuff. It's not that I don't like those people, but I'm sort of afraid of backsliding. I never want to be that deep into that whole scene ever again. I'm also not a fan of: fireworks, cigarette smoke, too much perfume, labels, fake feminists, the snow, most television, liars."
I'm definately a people person. I'm pretty friendly and outgoing most of the time. I guess I can be a little too much for people sometimes, especially if they don't know me. I can be quite loud and, truth-be-told, obnoxious. Not in a rude way, really, just in an over-the-top personality way. Lots of people are turned off by that, actually. That's why I don't make the best first impressions. But my second and third impresions are really good! Once you get past my loudness and stuff, I'm quite a good friend. I'm really loyal, once I consider you part of my family, I'll defend you to the near-death. And it's not exactly hard to become a part of 'family'. I tend to trust people really easily. I also like a great variety of people, no matter if their personality clashes with mine or not. It's gotten me into trouble before, trusting and liking the wrong kind of people, but I can't help it. I believe in the good within us all.
One thing I am rather serious about is my feminism. I can't stand chauvinistic or misogynistic tendencies in men. I'm a very independent woman, and I DON'T need a man to define myself, thank you very much. I can be, and am, friends with many men, but I don't allow them to be a jerk or a sexist in front of me. I will not be called 'baby' or 'darling' or 'dear' or 'sweetie' and I will not sit by and be treated as an inferior because of my gender. I am, proudly, imune to the 'charms' of the male species, and have never been in love. I don't deny love, and I don't deny that it could happen someday, but I don't live my life as a quest for romance. You can be certain that if I hear a male, or female, debasing the female gender, they will get an earful from me.
Okay, on to my likes and dislikes, I guess. My main love in life is writing. I've always kept a journal, as long as I can remember, and I have all of them in my closet at home. My drug-days ones are certainly the most interesting and the darkest, though I feel I can write better now that I'm clean. My wish is to one day write a novel, or a screen play, or a comic book. All three interest me greatly, and I have a huge collection of books and movies in my room. That's usually what I'm doing when I'm not working; reading or watching Lord of the Rings, which are some of my favorite movies. Though Forrest Gump has to take the top spot. 'Everyone calls me Bubba. Just like one of them redneck boys, can you believe that?' Priceless. I also like taking walks around Cornwall, especially in the twilight hours, when I'm not working. Music is something else I really enjoy. I can play the piano, though we don't own one, so I rarely do play. Some other random things I like: autumn, practical jokes, ice cream, oversized sweaters, boots, organized mess, tennis, muted colors, learning, language.
What I dislike is harder... Well, obviously I hate a sexist. But you know that already. I hate feeling like I've disappointed anybody. I really pride myself on being a good friend and a loyal person, and when I feel I've let someone down I sort of fall apart. I also don't like people who gossip a lot, or who are mean to people. I just find that there's absolutely no reason to be mean to a person or to spread lies about the person behind their back. I'm nineteen, already, I'm much too old for petty shit like that. I tend to avoid people who are really into partying and rugs and stuff. It's not that I don't like those people, but I'm sort of afraid of backsliding. I never want to be that deep into that whole scene ever again. I'm also not a fan of: fireworks, cigarette smoke, too much perfume, labels, fake feminists, the snow, most television, liars."
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"My family situation started sucking when I was eleven and my parents seperated. My brothers Paul and Ray were fifteen and nine, respectively. My mum and dad hadn't been getting along for a while, and I can remember dreading their fights. They never took it out on us, either physically or verbally, but the screaming did nothing for our psyches. Before the fighting, though, things were really good. My dad owns his own company and makes a really good living, so my mum never had to work. We really had everything we ever wanted.
After the divorce, though, that changed. My dad held money over my mum's head, as power. She was now a single mother without a job. She went back to school to finish her teaching degree so she could support us. My dad just sort of turned into an asshole, using me and my brothers as pawns to spite my mum. I always took his side, though, because he let me basically do whatever I wanted. He didn't care if I was gone from home for days at a time, my problems were just other things he could blame on my mother. For a while I really neglected my mom, until she saved my life by bringing me to rehab.
Now me and my mum are really close. I'm not so close with my dad so much anymore, though I do visit and call occasionally. It just sucks that he tried to create a wedge between me nad my mum. I know someday I'll be able to forgive him, but right now I'm just trying to make up lost time with Mother."
After the divorce, though, that changed. My dad held money over my mum's head, as power. She was now a single mother without a job. She went back to school to finish her teaching degree so she could support us. My dad just sort of turned into an asshole, using me and my brothers as pawns to spite my mum. I always took his side, though, because he let me basically do whatever I wanted. He didn't care if I was gone from home for days at a time, my problems were just other things he could blame on my mother. For a while I really neglected my mom, until she saved my life by bringing me to rehab.
Now me and my mum are really close. I'm not so close with my dad so much anymore, though I do visit and call occasionally. It just sucks that he tried to create a wedge between me nad my mum. I know someday I'll be able to forgive him, but right now I'm just trying to make up lost time with Mother."
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"I've lived here in Cornwall all my life. Both my parents are from here, though they now live in seperate houses. It's alright here, I guess, though it's gotten a bit awkward after I got back from Lexington. Everyone seems to know everything about me and my troubles. Plus there are some people here that significantly contributed to said problems, though we don't speak really anymore. I want to move to New York City, which I fell in love with after my dad took me there when I was twelve."
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"So I can't really talk about myself without saying something about Lexington. That is, Lexington Center, a rehab for teenagers with problems. And I had lots. Mostly with prescription drugs like Adderall, Percocet and various diet pills, but I was also a heavy drinker and into some other 'harder' stuff. The point is that I was using drugs to avoid living life. I started when I was thirteen, after my parents finalized their divorce. I'm not going to blame all my problems on that single event, but it definately didn't help. What also didn't help were my burgeoning hormones that came along with puberty, along with my slight bipolar-ness.
Basically, my story is the same-old, same-old. I started with weed and alcohol and got mixed up with some not-so-good people, blah, blah, blah. It does really happen though, as cliche as it sounds. It certainly happened to me. I gradually sunk into a pit of darkness and despair. Well, gradually in the way that a train wreck is gradual. Before I knew it I was stealing money from my parents for my addictions, running away from home (four times) and sleeping around with guys who had been god-knows-where. I had become a junkie and a whore. Okay, I never actually had sex for money, but I would have had my mother not pulled my sorry ass from that damn pit.
Four four and a half years I wasted my life on drugs. It was time that I should've spent focused on my writing and on school, instead of dropping out at sixteen. It's time I'll never get back. Anyway, one day my mum just got fed up. I was at her house for the week and I guess I threatened to commit suicide, something I had done dozens of times without ever really considering it. But I guess she just took me seriously that time (I can't quite remember it), and in the morning she dragged me to rehab. And when I say dragged I mean she literally dragged me to the car. I do remember the car ride. It was a four hour drive from here, and I started to withdraw during the trip. I hadn't gone that long with a pill or a drink in years, can you imagine? Well I was a screaming and crying buffoon most of the way there, when I wasn't sitting in a despondent, self-righteous slience.
But Lexington worked, as much as I didn't want it to. I was there for six moths, from April to August of 2009. And I've been sober since. I still speak with my therapist over Skype, I still have issues to work on. I live full-time with my mom now, seeing as my dad is sort of a prick. Hopefully I can earn enough money to move out on my own, and one day to the States to pursue a career in writing."
Basically, my story is the same-old, same-old. I started with weed and alcohol and got mixed up with some not-so-good people, blah, blah, blah. It does really happen though, as cliche as it sounds. It certainly happened to me. I gradually sunk into a pit of darkness and despair. Well, gradually in the way that a train wreck is gradual. Before I knew it I was stealing money from my parents for my addictions, running away from home (four times) and sleeping around with guys who had been god-knows-where. I had become a junkie and a whore. Okay, I never actually had sex for money, but I would have had my mother not pulled my sorry ass from that damn pit.
Four four and a half years I wasted my life on drugs. It was time that I should've spent focused on my writing and on school, instead of dropping out at sixteen. It's time I'll never get back. Anyway, one day my mum just got fed up. I was at her house for the week and I guess I threatened to commit suicide, something I had done dozens of times without ever really considering it. But I guess she just took me seriously that time (I can't quite remember it), and in the morning she dragged me to rehab. And when I say dragged I mean she literally dragged me to the car. I do remember the car ride. It was a four hour drive from here, and I started to withdraw during the trip. I hadn't gone that long with a pill or a drink in years, can you imagine? Well I was a screaming and crying buffoon most of the way there, when I wasn't sitting in a despondent, self-righteous slience.
But Lexington worked, as much as I didn't want it to. I was there for six moths, from April to August of 2009. And I've been sober since. I still speak with my therapist over Skype, I still have issues to work on. I live full-time with my mom now, seeing as my dad is sort of a prick. Hopefully I can earn enough money to move out on my own, and one day to the States to pursue a career in writing."
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so hey! i'm [alyssa] and there is no doubt about it,
i'm a [girl]. i've been rocking in this world for [nineteen].
yanno this crazy shit called roleplaying? well i've been
doing it for [eight/nine] years.
i'm a [girl]. i've been rocking in this world for [nineteen].
yanno this crazy shit called roleplaying? well i've been
doing it for [eight/nine] years.
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Rita's phone vibrated somewhere in the depths of her shoulder bag. She could feel it against the wood of the pier. She rummaged around for a while inside the bag; she never kept anything neat and orderly. Instead she just threw everything she needed in their. She had to take out her wallet, her Zune, a Kurt Vonnegut novel, a half-empty (or half-full) water bottle and an assortment of papers before she found it hiding in the bottom. It was a text from her mother. Her stomach clenched slightly, looking at the word Mom under the big white envelope. She opened it to read: 'where are you? are you with chloe?' Her stomach clenched even more. So her sister had decided to take a little walk too. Rita felt momentarily sorry for her mother, who was probably holding off sleep until she found out where her daughters were. Hastily, Rita replied, 'i'm fine. i'm out walking. chloe's not here.' That would have to do, for now.
Through this technological exchange she had only kept half an ear open to what E was telling her. She vaguely heard something about him not being interested. Interested in what, she wondered? "Oh, yeah, okay." She said, not really aware of what she was agreeing to. Not really aware if she was supposed to be in agreement or not. Whatever. She started stuffing the contents of her now-empty bag back in; except for the water bottle, which she opened and took a sip of. It was luke-warm and somewhat stale. Then the marijuana smoke hit her, and the nausea soon followed. It wasn't completely to do with the smoke, though. Guilt and anxiety filled her stomach like lead. Her sweatshirt felt three times heavier and the shoulder strap on her bag seemed to suffocate her. The sea breeze made her skin break out in goose-pimples. The smoke was just the straw to break the camel's back, as they say.
Rita tried to focus on what E was saying. She nodded when he said the sun wasn't the biggest star, not daring to open her mouth. Was he trying to make her feel like an idiot? Was he trying to prove her wrong to prove a point? Maybe he though she was a stupid girl who didn't have a chance of knowing anything about science or math. Well, she didn't really know anything about science or math. She was more of an english/history girl, honestly. The nausea started to ebb away slightly. Relief began to take its place. She released her fists, which she hadn't realized she was clenching so tightly. "Well, just because I'm intoxicated, does not mean I am not smart. I'm actually quite intelligent. I just don't care to use my smarts." "Well, that's about the least intelligent thing I've ever heard." Rita replied, getting her wits back about her as she began to feel better. She could certainly imagine someone deciding not to use their talents or natural abilities, but just because she believe it was possible didn't make it any less stupid.
Her phone vibrated again. It was her mom, replying. 'ok honey. take your time. i love you.' Uh-oh. There was the guilt again. The guilt of having someone love you unconditionally and feeling like you don't deserve it. And her nausea was back. And it didn't go away. She was surprisingly quick to get into a kneeling position over the edge of the pier, though shaky and far from graceful. She vomitted over the edge, and the feelings poured out of her stomach and into the water with a sickening noise that only puke can make. "Fuck." She said softly when it was over, continuing to stare down into the blackness for a few lingering moments. She grabbed the water bottle that was now behind her, took a sip, swished it around in her mouth and spit it back out into the water. She looked over at E, not even giving a thought to apologize. She didn't give a shit what he thought. "I guess I'm going to go home smelling like puke after all. Or, at least," she said, looking back over the water with a semi-disgusted look. "Tasting like it."
Through this technological exchange she had only kept half an ear open to what E was telling her. She vaguely heard something about him not being interested. Interested in what, she wondered? "Oh, yeah, okay." She said, not really aware of what she was agreeing to. Not really aware if she was supposed to be in agreement or not. Whatever. She started stuffing the contents of her now-empty bag back in; except for the water bottle, which she opened and took a sip of. It was luke-warm and somewhat stale. Then the marijuana smoke hit her, and the nausea soon followed. It wasn't completely to do with the smoke, though. Guilt and anxiety filled her stomach like lead. Her sweatshirt felt three times heavier and the shoulder strap on her bag seemed to suffocate her. The sea breeze made her skin break out in goose-pimples. The smoke was just the straw to break the camel's back, as they say.
Rita tried to focus on what E was saying. She nodded when he said the sun wasn't the biggest star, not daring to open her mouth. Was he trying to make her feel like an idiot? Was he trying to prove her wrong to prove a point? Maybe he though she was a stupid girl who didn't have a chance of knowing anything about science or math. Well, she didn't really know anything about science or math. She was more of an english/history girl, honestly. The nausea started to ebb away slightly. Relief began to take its place. She released her fists, which she hadn't realized she was clenching so tightly. "Well, just because I'm intoxicated, does not mean I am not smart. I'm actually quite intelligent. I just don't care to use my smarts." "Well, that's about the least intelligent thing I've ever heard." Rita replied, getting her wits back about her as she began to feel better. She could certainly imagine someone deciding not to use their talents or natural abilities, but just because she believe it was possible didn't make it any less stupid.
Her phone vibrated again. It was her mom, replying. 'ok honey. take your time. i love you.' Uh-oh. There was the guilt again. The guilt of having someone love you unconditionally and feeling like you don't deserve it. And her nausea was back. And it didn't go away. She was surprisingly quick to get into a kneeling position over the edge of the pier, though shaky and far from graceful. She vomitted over the edge, and the feelings poured out of her stomach and into the water with a sickening noise that only puke can make. "Fuck." She said softly when it was over, continuing to stare down into the blackness for a few lingering moments. She grabbed the water bottle that was now behind her, took a sip, swished it around in her mouth and spit it back out into the water. She looked over at E, not even giving a thought to apologize. She didn't give a shit what he thought. "I guess I'm going to go home smelling like puke after all. Or, at least," she said, looking back over the water with a semi-disgusted look. "Tasting like it."
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