I'm a hit. Not the public. I tell television what to play, yo

Do you ever go to urban dictionary and look up your name? It's kinda amusing.

Renée

A French name meaning "rebirth". Renee is of the most amazing people you will ever meet. She's random and weird, and most likely somewhat insecure, in addition to being outspoken, fiercely loyal to her friends, very sexual, very beautiful inside and out, open minded, mean at times, dedicated to music, and impulsive. She can be a hypocrite, but often owns up to it rather than denying it. She may not always use her head and tends to make excuses for the people she cares about. ex: Jeff: Who's the hot girl over there who's rambling about garlic bread's role in government conspiracies? Tom: Oh, that's Renée. She's pretty weird, but she's really cool.

At long last, someone who has heard about how garlic bread is responsible for faking the moon landing!

Also amusing? Looking up search terms that lead to my blog. For instance: "girls who look like violet" and "it was a boy and a girl and became rainbow" or the classic search phrase: "i'm a hit. not the public. i tell television what to play, yo." Believe it or not that particular phrase had 2 hits... that means someone searched it twice... or they forgot that they clicked on the link to my blog once and clicked the link again. I somehow think that one of those scenarios is more likely.

I mean I can't even remember how many times have I searched that phrase, you know?

I've been reading more people's blogs, lately... I've been caring about people other than myself. I kinda feel like I'm coming out of something- some phase of grief-- like I'm engaging in life a little bit more... Of course, to go along with that, my brain is letting me feel a little bit more than it did, so the tears and feelings of loneliness have been more... I've been by myself a lot more than I used to let myself be. But the hurt feels like healing, you know? That sore-ness that means your body is getting exercise and stretching it's muscles out? It hurts, but... it's good, too.

I think half the time I get through by thinking it was all just a lovely dream. Someone couldn't have loved me that much. Because if it was real it would still be here. And sometimes I'm caught off guard by the realization that it was real. Those eyes were here. That laugh was mine. That goofy playful grin that he got when we just started repeating the same things over and over... that was for me.

It's completely selfish, but I wish that God could have chosen someone else to be a good example.