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

*2 older entries: he says (June 24, 1999) and So there! (June 24, 2000) (i managed to delete the entry for june 25, 1999, and i think june 24, 2000 is more interesting than june 25th... yeah) 2001-06-25 11:45 p.m.*

Song Quote:

these precious things let them bleed let them wash away these precious things let them break their hold over me he said you're really an ugly girl but I like the way you play and I died but I thanked him sick holding onto his picture

-"Precious Things"

by Tori Amos

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Glad to see I'm so popular... *sighs*

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So, yeah.... blah.

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I had some grapes that tasted like tears today. They beat the Sad strawberries, but they were still weird.

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In the 3 CD changer today are Fleetwood Mac, Cake: Fashion Nugget, and Bjork: Post.

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Do you have a favorite journal entry? Do you think my writing style sucks? Do you have a better image to go where the butterflies are? 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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"Well, I've been afraid of changing 'cause I built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, children get older and I'm getting older, too." -"Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac

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"Can I handle the seasons of my life?" -same

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Another journal obsession is Soignee. I'm proud of myself. I unshy-ed myself in the compliments realm and told Iko I like her journal. I should do things like that more often. It's probably not going to hurt anyone's feelings that I like their journal, even though I'm terrified that it will.

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Oh... best friend's coming by next Tuesday. She only has to work in the morning. Huzzah!

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Damn them! Damn them all! Every time I figure out a neat idea for this journal, someone already has it on their page. These were all my ideas, I swear!

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6-24-99

I woke up this morning to the phone ringing. I nearly killed myself running to get it. We have terrazo floors and walking barefoot all year nearly burned all the traction (what is the word for how footprints keep you from slipping too much?) off my feet, so I slipped when I stood up and that would have meant tripping over my shoes onto an antique doll high chair, and a suitcase, and into the wall, or the closet which is fool of boxes of books. But I didn't. I got to the phone safe and sound.

It was dad. He wanted to talk to Mom forgetting that today is Thursday, and not Friday, which is the day she has off work. So he asked me if he woke me up. I told him that he did. So he asked me how I was, and I said I was fine. And since he already had woken me up he figured I was awake enough for him to tell me how he's been.

I hadn't really spoken to him since before I saw my aunt... [S]he came to visit my grandparents on Dad's side. So, they she and Dad saw each other, and he told me she was leaving from the Sarasota-Bradenton Airport which is right next to school. So I called her up and told her I'd stop by when she flew out and I did. They ASKED ME ABOUT MY GIRLFRIEND. A) we had broken up. B) I had not come out to them, and I would have rather Dad hadn't yet either. It's such a personal thing. *sighs* Anyway, so I got mad at Dad, and though I wanted to tell him I was angry, I have all these issues with him. Mainly, I think of him as this fragile manic-depressive, suicidal drug addict who I can't tell I'm angry because that could send him over the edge. It's a really unhealthy relationship we have, I know. Anyway... so, I didn't want to call him because I'd bring it up, and so I waited for him to call me. It so happened that I wasn't in my room much anymore, so I never got his calls, and I never returned them. Then one day he finally got ahold of me and asked me if I wanted to have lunch with him. True to my doormat form, I said all right, and as I expected anyway, he called me the morning of the lunch date and told me he couldn't make it. So, I was glad and at the same time pissed... the way I always am when he does that. Glad because I don't have to see him, and pissed because he broke his word... again.

Anyway, he didn't call me here at all, which was a relief to Mom as whenever he calls her, this remarried man tells her how much he loves her, how sexy she is, and how he wishes things had worked out. The week of his marriage he actually called her to tell her he wanted to get back together! But, his birthday came around so I figured I'd call. I got the answering machine, figuring they were out celebrating or something, so I wished him a happy birthday and didn't leave a number or anything. As Mom says, if he needs to find us, he can. She doesn't have an unlisted number-- he's called information before, after he lost her number for the 5th time and I refused to give it to him again.

And I called again on Father's Day and actually talked to him. He was glad I called but was all mysterious and depressed sounding on the phone. I asked him where he was on his birthday and he said, "maybe I'll tell you some day."

And that brings us to today when he called. He felt more open this time and decided to tell me what happened. I have no idea what to believe right now.

Turns out he spent his birthday in jail. His side is that B (his stepdaughter-- 15-- I've never met her, though he was always saying she and I should get to know each other and he'd bring her by Selby sometime)has some emotional problems. He told me about the time that she was at a mental hospital for awhile, awhile back. Anyway, she has these problems, and so she's been hitting him a lot and hurting him. (I told mom about this and she said that the girl is a lot smarter than either of us are, that she figured out what a sleaze he was so quickly.) So, the day before his birthday, she hit him in the face, knocking off and breaking his glasses, and taking a piece out of his nose. So, he told her that what she needed was a spanking and hit her on the butt twice. He told her to call her mom and tell her he was abusing her, but instead she called the cops. Which is how he spent a day and a half in jail.

This whole conversation made me nauseous and when we got off the phone, I crawled into bed and curled in a ball. I woke up a few hours later, still earlier than I usually wake up, and went back to sleep. I finally woke up a little after when I've normally been getting up this summer, and just lay there listlessly. I never wanted to move again. I just wanted to stay there in bed where I didn't have to move or think, forever. But the thinking got too much for me, so I got up and watched tv, since that can drum out a lot of thought.

Dad has spanked me once, and he was the one who cried. Yet, this whole scenario is too... Dad is painted to innocently... he has to be lying somewhere. I feel it in my gut. Which is why I've had that "just cried" feeling all day, though I haven't shed a tear. I wrote in my handwritten journal for awhile, though. It's funny, though, 'cause I'm being more personal here than I was there. Anyway, after I finished, I stared at the page and just doodled around the edges and copied down random song lyric from "Untouchable Face", and Little Earthquakes. Then I got out a piece of paper and my multicolored pens and just doodled and wrote more random angry quotes from LE, and "who am i? bet you can't even tell me that much" on the bottom, and then ripped it all up. I felt a little better. I threw it away and left the room, but when I came back in my room a couple hours ago, I found a piece I had accidentally left. It's in the shape of a butterfly, it has a few doodles and it says "may" on it. I think I'm going to keep that.

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In lighter news, I've been downloading new sounds for my desktop theme. Right now it's a disturbing blend of "Pinky and the Brain," "Daria," and Monty Python, with quotes such as "So, have fun?" (said by Jane Lane), "Charlie Sheen, Ben Vereen, Shrink to the size of a lima bean," said by the Brain, and "All the gold that I could eat," from Monty Python popping up at random times. Melikes! But I need to find a few more good sounds, 'cause some of those from the last Theme are getting very grating.

So there! (6-24-00)

do i want a statement of tenancy or would i rather have lodger status? how do i know? i don't know what these words mean. i feel like the foreign land i'm travelling to is not necessarily england, but grown-up land. this is not playing house. this is real. aieeee! scary.

why am i doing this, really?

i know why i'm doing this. i'm doing this so i can go to england, so i can "break out of the provincialism that comes from going to college in the town in which someone was raised," or however michalson put it, i'm doing this so i can have travelled, i'm doing this so i can spend time away from new college, i'm doing this for a lot a lot a lot of reasons. but sometimes it's really scary.

as is the wind right now. it's doing weird things to the doors.

i'm reading another barbara kingsolver book right now. she's such a good writer. i can't explain it. but i just love her books. *shrugs*

these grassroots entries are pretty dull, aren't they? i'm sorry. life is nice, but not a lot of interesting things go on. i mean it's all interesting, but it sort of blurs into a weird mesh of coziness or something...

I won't grow up

I don't wanna wear a tie

Or a serious expression

In the middle of July!

And if it means I must prepare

To shoulder burdens with a worried air...

I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow u-p

Not me!

Not I.

Not me.

So there!

Never gonna be a man...

I won't!

Like to see somebody try...

And make me!

Anyone who wants to try...

And make me

Turn into a man.

Catch me if you can!

~"I Won't Grow Up" from Peter Pan

*listening to: *
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