chances are i've probably had a crush on you.

*"i won't be soothed," "i kind of like that," "baby can't you see," and "me here on my own." 2001-07-08 12:03 a.m.*

oh, nostalgia. but no, it's not nostalgia. 2 of these are shitty entries about shitty times. but it intrigues me, who i was, so i go and look at these old entries from time to time. it's around midnight, so it's sort of between the 7th and the 8th, so i wasn't sure which to post, and they're both interesting, for 1999. and there is no entry for either day, but both the 6th and 9th have interesting entries for 2000. so i'm posting all 4. 'cause i'm that fascinated by myself. oh, and i changed the names of people, as usual, or use initials. and where i would normally use my real name, i change it to "me." and i'm used to referring to the exish as exish, but she's not my exish yet in this entry. we're still togetherish.

ps., i've added a dropdown menu for all the journals i read, some of them are not listed in my favorites, because i ran out of room for them.

Song Quote:

When you tried to tell me

Of all the love you had,

I was cleaning oil from beaches

Seeing only what was bad.

When you tried to feed me

I only shut my mouth.

Food got on your apron

And you told me to get out.

Daria, I won't be soothed.

Daria, I won't be soothed over like,

Smoothed over like milk,

Silk, a bedspread, or a quilt,

Icing on a cake,

Or a serene translucent lake.

Daria, Daria, Daria,Daria, Daria, Daria,

Daria, I won't be soothed.

I won't be soothed

"Daria" by Cake

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It's a nutty nutty nutty world fool of nuts.

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In the 3 CD changer today are Portishead: Dummy (anxiously awaiting "Gloybox"), Belle and Sebastian: The Boy With the Arab Strap, and Bjork: Homogenic.

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I read Beverly Cleary's Socks today. Good stuff. She's good at getting into the head of a cat.

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Okay, I know you're out there! My counter tells me so! Did I miss someone in the Cast? Do you have a favorite journal entry? Do you think my writing style sucks? Do you wanna be my friend? Do you think I hint for people to write back too much? Why don't you tell me?

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I love that "scrub" song by TLC, but days like today, I feel like a scrub.

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Oh, I LOVE "Glorybox." Which is surprising since it was the song that Andrea choreographed a dance to for the Dance Tutorial. I guess I'm getting less bitter in my old age. Heh. Yep, uh huh.

7-7-99

Why do I get like this? Why do I feel so grumpy? Why do I snap at the slightest word? All kind words that get interpreted as cruel insults to be replied to with even crueler comments? I don't like me some days, and today is one of those days. Everything most people have said to me today have just pushed the wrong buttons, and made me be intentionally calculated and cruel. I don't want to be that girl. I don't want to be my grandmother, is the thing. *sighs*

Blah blah blah blah blah...

Self-centered me who feels it's her right to tell the world her deep dark thoughts, because of course they'd be interested, strikes again. Bleh... I need a bottle of Angst-B-Gone.

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neil was supposed to get down here today, but I didn't hear from him all day. *paranoid grimace* I'm picturing him dead on some highway between Sarasota and Maryland, even though I know probably have no reason to. It's just the probably that gets me. Then there's the fact that part of me is ABSOLUTELY sure he left my phone number back home, and so will have no way of getting in touch with me. And then there's the bitchy, selfish thing, which doesn't take into account my mom's happiness, and that's how frustrated I am that she has tomorrow and the next day off which means I can't show neil Rocky Horror, because I think I would break her heart if she realized I say things like "and fucking, and sucking on", like I do in the call lines. *grumble, grouch, pout, and scowl*

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And today "Rockabye" came on the radio and so now I've been thinking of M. When I got to school, our first conversation I think, he said that he was getting into "my" kind of music, ie pop rather than country, and cited "Rockabye" as one of his new favorites. I had previously thought of "Rockabye" as a kind of obnoxious song, and was insulted that he associates me with "pop music," even if I do like some of it, but now that song just makes me want to curl up in a fetal position and pine for times long and better gone. In my current vulnerable, bored, and raw state, I really am susceptible to such small mood triggers, and I've been thinking about that relationship all day. Yet another of me's unhealthy relationships.

We were like two strangler figs going at each other for all the nutrients either of us had, and when we finally discovered the other one was drained of all we needed to begin with, we broke off like two magnets with the same pole facing each other. (I love metaphors, even if I do mix them.) I broke up with a boy because of M, though it really was best that I did. That relationship needed to have a clean break or else there might still be a thin, taut piece of hope making me believe J'd come back and all would be good again. But our relationship had really ended months before M came into the picture and it took M to make me realize it was all over. I had heard from J one time in one month-- he had definitely lost interest. And so, I poured my heart out to M, and he made me feel special and safe. And then things got icky in a lot of ways, really quick, but I didn't notice any of it. I still can't quite define what went wrong, but it was very wrong. But the weird thing was, when we broke up was the first time I ever had a hard time falling asleep. I wrote him a poem that I never gave him, pleading with him to give me my sleep back. Because, previous to that, we would fall asleep on the phone to each other after he would help me relax from the tears and tenseness of my day. And there were definitely tears. And there was definite tenseness. But all of our conversations would wind up with me in tears as he brought me to the deepest darkest places of my psyche. I was depressed to begin with but he was my guide through all the caves inside my heart, showing me all the curves and sparkles. He stripped me layer by layer and I showed him all my wonderful facets, but he was too busy tending too his own heart to notice. Obviously, an unhealthy place for both of us, so we broke it off. But as I was piecing myself back together from that, I realized that I was beautiful and sparkly, and for the first time that I can remember, I liked myself. And my like for myself has grown even to love (the greatest love of all, after all), and that's why this summer is so hard. I've reverted back to my self-loathing, self-punishing self that I thought I had outgrown, and it scares me how easily it can be brought back. And so, I'm back at the state I was during my senior year. A bleeding, pussy, infected ball of pain. And that's why the comfort and the ability to sleep that he brought me seems so appealing right now. It's not even that I can't sleep. I'm getting too much sleep, but more sleep would eleviate the boredom, I'm sure. It's such an escapist tendency I have... to just sleep and sleep.

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And now that that's all written, I realize how much like the most recent maybe she got lost in mexico entries I sound like, though it's most certainly not intentional. These have been my own true feelings of the day. And like all the others, these too shall pass. (gosh! "this too shall pass"! What a good name for a diary that would be.)

Song Quote:

When you're following an angel

Does it mean you have to throw your body off a building?

Somewhere they're meeting on a pinhead

Calling you an angel, calling you the nicest things

I heard they had a space program

When they sinc you can't hear, there's no air

Sometimes I think I kind of like that and

Other times I think I'm already there.

"She's An Angel"

by They Might Be Giants

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It's a nutty nutty nutty world FULL of nuts.

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In the 3 CD changer today are still Portishead: Dummy (anxiously awaiting "Gloybox"), Belle and Sebastian: The Boy With the Arab Strap, and Bjork: Homogenic, but I have the radio on.

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We went to the Venice Library today instead of Jacaranda. I like that place. It's so nice and big and fresh and clean. Lovely place. Got a few books, but tried not to get many. Got a set of French books and tapes to brush up, so hopefully I can be in intermediate next year.

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I am NOT a suck-up! I just admire people too much.

7-7-99

I just finished yet another amazing young adult fiction book. This one was Blood and Chocolate by Annette Curtis Klause. It's about a teenage girl who's a werewolf, but she falls in love with a "meat boy." The first 20 pages had me nearly give up on it, but when she went through "the change" it hooked me. The writing became nearly flawlessly beautiful after that. It was funny. I kept on thinking, "That's exactly right. That's exactly how it feels." And then I remembered, "No, I am not a werewolf. It's just what I think it must be like." It was very odd. I could definitely tell the author was British, by certain pieces of slang, but that was more endearing than annoying. I kept thinking that the wolves who were more used to the woods than being around modern people, would probably use those words anyway, even though that was basically erroneous, as the chracters were all pretty world-wise.

I loved the end. I also hated the end. It was perfect, even if it felt almost like she sold out, like she gave in. But at the same time, it was right for her. (I'm not giving anything away, as that could explain away a few of the plot twists in the book.

So, am I a weak reader? Do I fall for "tripe" far too easily? Am I unable to discover a good book if it bites me on the nose, but surround myself with crap? Is the Cochin typeface what makes a book good to me now? I puzzle about that often. I want to know if it is a weakness in me that I read mainly books geared for people so much younger than me. And yet, a lot of the people I admire do as well. But, do I admire them because they are admirable or because they are like me? It's confusing. I guess I should just be content to read what I read, write what I write, and like what I like, and not care one whit what other people think of it. If only it were so easy to do that. It's funny though. For the most part, unless it's stuff that I might not want the world to know, either for their sake or mine, I am much more free and easy in this online journal than I have been of late in my handwritten one. It is more of a pleasure to write in. Is it because of the medium, the audience, or the lack of the glaring red paper of the journal I'm using now? I don't know. But know, dear friends, that you are getting all of me. I am showing you all my facets. And even if you never reciprocate, I doubt I will dump you any time soon. This is too much fun.

baby can't you see? (7-6-00)

�Pobrecita Cenicienta!

i'm in a weird mood. *shrugs*

Duernam en buenas camas.

we went to wakulla springs today, as the tradition for thursdays goes. i'm pretty pink. yay for aloe!

Cenecienta est� solita.

i jumped off the high dive, which is about 20 feet up. i got really nervous for some reason, right before i jumped off. i wasn't before i took my glasses off, but once they were off for some reason, the water looked much farther away. but eventually i jumped, and i gained the respect of many 10 year old boys, and a hug from a 6 year old boy.

Una hermosa dama sale de las llamas.

kids are cool.

Es un hada buena.

a girl's mom came along today and she complimented me on my tattu.

Seis ratones llegan a ser seis caballos blancos.

i told her that it wasn't a butterfly or a flower, but rather my wings.

No, no la reconocen.

she said i was a faerie.

Bailan juntos toda la noche.

i said yes.

La m�sica se detiene.

she told me that she and her daughter saw a faerie once.

Cenicienta salda dentro.

before that she had never really believed in faeries.

Es un zapato peque�o.

so, yeah, that was exciting.

El pr�ncipe llega a la casa de Cenicienta.

and i bought ice cream today! woo-ha!

�Es ella!

Marry him, marry me

I'm the one that loved you baby can't you see?

Ain't got no future or family tree

But I know what a prince and lover ought to be

I know what a prince and lover ought to be

"Two Princes" by Spin Doctors

me here on my own (7-9-00)

*sighs a perturbed sigh*

i feel like a clutch pig today. well, right now. most of the day went well and all, but tonight, i'm bored out of my mind and terribly lonely, and it looks like the exishgirl is playing with this other dyke tonight. and i don't think anything will happen between them or anything, and even if it did, i have no claim on exish ~ she's the only person who can have claim on herself. but i am jealous in that she gets to be with her, and i don't. which i guess is pretty clutchy in and and of itself. and jan usually invites me to go to her brother's on sundays and i usually say no, but i was kind of meaning to say yes tonight, but i was closed up in my room reading, so she's gone. and dave came and took sammy, his bird which we've been taking care of for the week, back. and so i'm feeling very very alone. i've played 30 games of freecell in the past hour alone. and none of my books are really grabbing my attention. i keep checking my another.com email that i have set up just for exish mail since it was taking up a good chunk of my yahoo space since we have a tendency of sending at least 5 emails a day... sometimes up to 20 each... as though she will magically appear. but if she were to magically appear that would probably mean something bad would have happened. like, i was kind of wishing she could stay and talk with me online (besides, i have a dirty letter i need to read out loud to her on the phone *coughs*) yesterday, and she wound up getting ill, and i felt like my psychic energy had come back around and vomitted all over me. what a hippie i am, no?

before i got in such a clutchy, restless mood, i read lois lowry's the giver a book which is not only a newberry award winner, but on the american library association's list of most challenged books. and it was really good. yet another utopia/dystopia book, but it didn't feel the same the way that a lot of the others i've been reading have. yesterday i read wise child by monica furlong. and i wholeheartedly recommend that.

in case you didn't know, clutch-pig/clutchy come from francesca lia block's weetzie bat books, and if you haven't read them, damn, you should!

one month left till i'm on an airplane to england, yo! less then two weeks left at grassroots, yo! time does go quickly when you look back at it. *laughs*

Strange voices are saying

Things I can't understand

It's too close for comfort

This heat has got

Right out of hadn

It's a cruel, cruel summer Leaving me here on my own

~"Cruel Summer" by Bananarama

*listening to: *
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