Post by bar donahue on Aug 20, 2008 17:06:54 GMT -5
*
and i would be your main squeeze[/color], [/center][/blockquote][/blockquote]
[/size]Cause I'm comin' home,
I'm comin' home,
*[/size] rudiments - - - - - [/blockquote][/right]
hello, the name's, bar natalie donahue williams
but people tend to call me, drunken bar, barcode, bar bar, slimely bar
I turned , twenty two
on , november third, nineteen eighty six
so that means I've been living ), in LA for three years (resident)
when the days over i like me some , boys
[/color][/font][/size]I've seen a palace in London,
I've seen a castle in Wales,
*[/size] skin deep - - - - - [/blockquote][/right]
[/i][/size][/color][/ul][/font]
well, my hair is, long, sun kissed, wavy
and I love my eyes, they're, big, blue, piercing
and my skin colors this really cool, tan from the sun
mainly because I'm , irish, french, italian
I measure up to , 5'8
no Seattle Sutton's for me ! the scale says , 115
but it's kind of cool that I have ,
height, freckles, cute smile
and my style blows yours away , bohemian grunge
so over - all ,
As always when it comes to blonde haired girls, it becomes a staple of their intelligence. Bar has always been commented on her wavy healthy sun kissed blonde locks. Although it is usually in a long braid down her back or left down, it seems to warm her face up very well. Her pale skin receives a deep beige appearance when her hair is down. Bar has grown to like her hair, but sometimes she wishes it was in a bob or just shaved off. Having long hair can become a nuisance as it is very unmanageable at times. Shorter hair is comfortable year round and brings more attention to her face, which she has been told is gorgeous, although she doesn't think so. However, sometimes she has favored it when she needs to hide behind something.
Not only do her wheat locks irritate her at times, but she HAD to be born with blue eyes. A blonde haired blue eyed female living in California has officially no hope in succeeding past the stereotypes that surround her on a daily basis. Bar tries to not let it bother her because she loves her eye color as they pop out, especially when she wears certain colors and her skin is tanner. Behind her barely there eyelashes stand two oval aqua orbs glistening at you. They've become a sort of trademark for her besides her freckles, and she likes to keep it that way.
When she was younger, Bar tended to hate the mass of freckles that ran across her nose and sprinkled onto her cheeks. None of her friends had freckles, and they were generally on little red headed children. It was rare for her and she despised it every day when she woke up in the morning. Her first purchase from her first part time job was some concealer to cover up the spotty monsters. Once they were gone, however, all of the guys she dated seemed disappointed. It appeared that she was now no different than any other tall blonde that she knew. Those spotty monsters made her different.
Bar has never been the type of girl who cares about what she looks like when she gets dressed in the morning. She feels that comfort is more important than impressing people she hates to be around. Unless it's a top notch party or high class special event, she will most likely be in a tee and denim jeans. Her mother was never really around to show her how to be a girl, so she just gave up. It's her body, and if she wants to wear something comfortable then she will. There's no one to impress but her. Whenever she manages to get herself a boyfriend, she might dress up a tad more sexier than usual. She would maybe put on a scarf headband or a cute purse she found at the thrift store to spice up her wardrobe? Not too dressy, not too sloppy. That's Bar in a nutshell.
but people say I look like , miss mischa barton
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[/size]but I'd rather wake up beside you
and breathe that ol' familiar smell,
*[/size] personage - - - - - [/blockquote][/right]
[/i][/size][/color] because, she has never drank or done drugs
I love,
chocolate, vanilla, cheesy chick flicks with no point at all, mocking people, having friends who understand her type of humor, yelling at the movie even though the actors can't hear her, extremely hot guys who are actually intelligent, teachers who are actually cool, being able to tell someone "shut up" after they say something stupid and not having them feel bad, waiting her her prince charming, true love and every downfall that comes with it, being a smart blonde in a sea of dumb ones, british accents, dramatic television shows, ryan gosling, crazy celebrity names, saturday night live skits, period piece movies, english class, poems, haiku's, clothes, the tons of jeans in her closet, acting like a five year old, being serious, asking questions, having blue eyes, ice cream, vegetables, arguing with people, being stubborn
but I really despise,
dramatic "emo" people, people with no sense of humor, bitches with no point at all, pedophiles, abusers - emotionally and physically, gossipers with no lives, disliking anything, playing hard to get, guys playing hard to get, guys who don't believe in PDA, assholes, people who curse every other word, being hypocritical, people saying her name funny, wars, violence, hippies, druggies - don't go overboard as awesome as drugs can be, alcoholics - same thing, braggers, people who hate rap music for no reason, her stomach, her thighs, american idol auditions
I personally think I'm pretty good at, loyalty, optimism, sense of humor
though I should really work on ,
never giving up on someone when she really should, being noisy, feeling extremely bad when someone doesn't want to be her friend
people tend to tell me I'm ,
boring[/font] because, she likes to stay home on a friday night instead of club hopping
naive[/font] because, she tends to believe what people tell her [/ul][/font]
but basically, I'm , in depth personality here, 600+ words
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[/size]I never thought you could leave me,
I figured I was the one ,
*[/size] background story - - - - - [/blockquote][/right]
[/b]? [/ul]
I came from, wilmington, north carolina
well my father .. ,
coming in at , fifty four
he supported us by , working at an insurance company
all in all, he's pretty , much the greatest dad alive[/ul]
onto my mother ,
coming in at ,
fifty two
she helped too, by , working at the post office
in the end she's quite , a superhero of some sort[/ul]
and then they had kids ,
then it was time for my own ,
and my one and only pet(s) , golden retriever named graham
the love life , Bar has been one of the few girls she knew to have had one boyfriend in her life. His name was Daniel Walker and he sat in front of her since elementary school since their names both started with W's. Their relationship was in all means perfect - they won homecoming king and queen every year of high school - and Bar believed it would last forever. Unfortunately, it didn't. The sparks died out by graduation and they ended things promptly. It saved their friendship and Bar is grateful for that. When she moved to Los Angeles, California she was excited to meet boys as sweet as Daniel had been.
& the good and the bad, in depth history here, 600+ words
[/blockquote]
[/size]but I understand your sadness so
I guess I should just hold my tongue ,
*[/size] all about you - - - - - [/blockquote][/right]
[/size] hello, I'm CAMMIE![/color]. I play bar donahue[/color] and her playmates, n/a[/color]. I myself have seen almost seventeen [/color]summers and I plan to see a lot more, living the good life up in western[/color]. I've been in this part of town for five years [/color], so I know the area pretty well. oh! and did I mention that i stalk! haha jk[/color] told me about this island resort? he/she's a gorgeous thing. stalk me? well, my aim is pm me[/color], my msn's n/a[/color], and my email's n/a[/color], . but, of course, you can always PM me. au revior !"[/size]
*
Headmaster Blair should have just given her the largest punishment he could think of. There was nothing good that could come of a trip to Switzerland with so called chaperons. Booze and partying with the same people and the same drama. It felt like a revolving door of fun, in the loosest sense of the word. But what did she have to complain about? All the hard work she put in before her sixteenth birthday pretty much guaranteed her grandchildren a comfortable wealthy life. Not a lot of people could say that, and if they could it wouldn't be with a solemn expression. However, the people that could were way in their late thirties/early forties with yachts for their poodles. None of them knew what it was like to be a has been at seventeen years old. A few measly months left of enjoying youth before going off and officially starting her life, with no clue of how to make that possible. Two fucking years spent trying to "discover who she really was" and all she found was she had no damn clue.
The slender blond painfully closed her eyelids over her topaz eyes, as she walked down the seemingly empty hallway. This was exactly what she wanted to prevent. These shitty thoughts about life and a future in something far away from Newark, New Jersey. Oh, Richard and Denise would love for her to come back home. Los Angeles was too tainted with drugs, sex, and alcohol in their eyes, which was horridly ironic considering those three things are what drove their darling Allisandra out of the state. Now, she kept telling herself that everything would be okay. By graduation everything would be alright. She would have a plan even if that didn't mean a university in the fall. Passion would strike her and she would go wherever life took her. Just wait. Good things came to those who waited. If that was true, why did she feel like she was the one person who didn't know what they would do with their life? The only reason she applied to all those universities was because it was what "you did". Not because she wanted to go. University was never for her.
Allie knew the one thing that was for her: singing. Not the Britney Spears/Christina Aguilera/Jessica Simpson crap that her record producers forced her into. Actual singing sans catchy beats and cheesy dance moves. Janis Joplin. Billie Holiday. Those were her idols growing up. 'You're fourteen years old. That kind of music won't work for our target audience. They want the next Madonna. Trust us Allie. We know what's hip.' Those words haunted her and it hurt even more to know that they were right. She became a superstar. A Hannah Montana of her time and she hated every minute of it. This wasn't her dream. This was hell. After one of her concerts she went backstage and caught a glance of herself in the mirror. Her peroxide blond locks, overly pink makeup with a matching jumpsuit. It was that moment she made a promise to never sing again. Unfortunately, her three year contract with Top Notch Records made that impossible. She got her wish one year later when Top Notch dropped her due to low record sales caused by her excessive partying and substance abuse. She had played her hand with the fire and got burned. Addicted and more confused than ever, she went to rehab. Sobriety seemed feasible until she entered BA and joined her group of friends. Now she was screwed.
"No, it's my fault." Allie knelt down to pick up her hall pass. "Fuck," she muttered, slowly standing up. "I was so wrapped up in my damn thoughts, I-I...Are you okay?" Her aqua eyes caught his chocolate ones. She had seen him in the hallways and at lunch a few times. He was someone's younger brother, but she was too jumbled to remember his name at the moment. That was when she looked down and saw the long red lines all across his arms. Any idiot could tell that they were cuts. Allie remembered many nights she sat in rehab staring at blades all around her. Scissors, knifes, forks. Anything to take the pain away. "Obviously not." She whispered finally taking her eyes away from them. There was nothing she could say to him as much as she wanted to. He was probably more lost than she was.
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