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[27 Sep 2005|10:44pm] |
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mood |
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 forgotten |
] |
for the first time in my entire life, i'm feeling homesick. but i guess its not really HOMEsick because i don't miss home, and i don't want to go home. rather it's a feeling that i'm losing myself. changing or something. i want to get myself back.
so where do you go when you go to college? and i don't mean physical location. what i mean is, everyone says that you can change yourself when you get to school. start over. because nobody knows you. and that's a good thing(?). so yeah, you go and change what you thought were flaws. your ressurect the loser to construct the winner. play with your face so that you don't recognize your own reflection. and then on sunday morning(afternoon) when you're splashing cold water on your face and blinking away the bleary headache, you happen to glance up into the mirror and think. who. the hell. is that.
why do we make it so easy to change and so hard to remain the same. so could you pull me back down to the ground? take 5 minutes, that's all i'm asking, to remind me who i am. please.
who is this mighty rearranger.
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[12 Sep 2005|10:34pm] |
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mood |
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 accomplished |
] |
how about no longer being masochistic.
how about remembering your divinity.
how about unabashedly bawling your eyes out.
how about not equating death with stopping.
so... how about it?
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[08 Sep 2005|11:52pm] |
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mood |
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decidedly content |
] |
the blister below my ring finger on my right hand has ripped open and the rest are soon to follow.
it's the down side of up, this mood that i convey to you. the good side of bad. the bright side of dark. who knows? i did an entry like this one (potentially, because who knows where this will end up) a while ago, and since then have been advised to be more like that... more happy, as it were. and although i would not feign bliss, it strikes me now to write. and wouldn't you know it? i AM happy, so that's convenient.
i've been recruited to join the varsity womens' crew team here at syracuse. something to do with height and a muscular build. i thought to myself at first that i wouldn't do it, that i would just concede a few hours to say that i tried it. i figured that it would be too much time, that it would eat up my life. less time to hang out, no substances whatsoever. crew, who would do such a thing. but you know what? yeah, you could have guessed it because i am somewhat of an enigma, here i sit before this screen with screaming muscles and tired mind. with oozing blisters and the prospect of tomorrow's pain.
it's the kind of pain that makes you wince as you reach for a pencil. the kind of pain that makes you walk down the stairs like you've been sodomized as of late. the kind of pain that makes people look at you funny as you yelp whilst raising your hand. the kind of pain that makes you leave that book on the floor because bending to pick it up is not worth the struggle. when you fall into bed instead of sitting and then laying down. when you suck in a breath to cross your legs. when standing is preferable to sitting because that chair is too damn low. when you tell your arm to move it point blank refuses. you know what it is? it's the one kind of pain that you cannot harbor any emotion towards... excepting love. oh yeah. i love it.
i've been told to stop wishing and start evaluating the happy in what i already have. no more pining, no more hoping. no more what ifs or why mes. if this is who i am and what i do... then this, my friends, is my happiness. will you accept me for that? for my oddity and athleticism? for my insight and musicianship? for myself and nothing more? if the answer is yes... then go on reading.
thank you for your words, whether positive or negative or completely unrelated. why on earth would i be grateful for those comments made with inflection of dislike? who the hell wants insults? well, i suppose that i am appreciative of all words, whatever they may be. if you criticize then you probably have reason for saying so. i will shed tears and hate your guts... and realize that maybe you are right so that i may try to self-improve. and if you're not, then i have at least reassessed myself so as to confirm that you were indeed wrong... and will be a more confident person because of it. and if you utter kind words in my direction. if it so moves you to compliment. then you have made me more acutely aware of my good traits, and everyone likes to know that they are at least doing some things right. but what if your compliments are made in vain? what if these things that you praise are not entirely applicable to myself? then you are simply a good enough friend to bolster my spirits, and everyone needs that sometimes as well. words, i tell you, are the thing. tell me your favorite poem. or quote. or the weather. or trivial piece of information. or hello. whatever you feel like saying and know what i say to you? that's fanTAStic.
thank you, you've been a wonderful audience... tip your waitress and try the beef.
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[27 Aug 2005|03:17am] |
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mood |
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 bouncy |
] |
so here we are on the syracuse hill and isn't it a different feeling.
actually, you know what? college is awesome. i fucking love it here and it's only been like two days. i guess maybe that will change slightly once classes actually start on monday, but somehow i don't expect a huge variance in opinion. despite the involuntary methods of landing in such a place, i actually think i like it here in the ILC. everyone's nice, and the fact that we're a rather small group makes us closer. i know most everyone's name, isn't that fucked up?! TWO DAYS I'VE BEEN HERE. it's three in the morning or so, and i just got into the dorm. spent all night with a tree-climbing bastad (yes, pronounced the new england way with long A and no R) and an apoprostrous thespian named nick and andrew. walked marshall this afternoon with jackson and jen and bobby and yen. checked out newhouse and played maw. in short? it's been good.
if only you were here. then things would be perfect.
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[23 Aug 2005|02:20am] |
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mood |
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bemused |
] |
so it's my last night at home and i have to get up early tomorrow morning to go last-minute shopping with my momma. maybe i should get some sleep?
it's a weird feeling, this whole "leaving for college" thing. i mean, i'm not afraid. people keep asking me if i'm scared, or nervous, or anxious, or other such slightly negative-sounding adjectives. the answer to all of those enquiries would be no, i'm not. people keep telling me that it's normal to be scared and to get homesick and to suddenly feel un-ready to leave the proverbial nest. to that i also have to shake my head. i'm not clinging to the homestead. people keep wondering if i'm just emotionally withdrawn from the situation because it has come as a shock to my system. i stare and give them my best 'withdrawn and shell-shocked' expression, but know inside that that's not it either. i think i'm just a bit bemused with the whole thing.
i was folding my newly purchased sheets just yesterday and the following occured to me: i'm packing my entire life into a duffle bag, a laundry basket, and some milk crates. i sigh and shrug and wonder exactly how sad is it that it all fits in the back of mommy's jeep with some room left over. ah well, life goes on; both in and out of duffle bags.
i can't lie and say that i won't miss any of this, because you would all see right through me. i'm going to miss the family. the friends. the job. the boy. i'm going to miss the familiarity that comes with growing up in the same sleepy town for your entire life. know what i'm not going to miss?! the holden police because they suck.
i'm ready for this, i bullshit you not. you ask me... what AM i afraid of?
really. big. angry. bears.
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[08 Aug 2005|12:10am] |
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mood |
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un-normal |
] |
first of all, i'm going to michigan tomorrow morning :-)
secondly, i just emailed one of my roommates for the fall, and i sincerely hope that she doesn't become alarmed. see, i just introduced myself to her, gave her the lowdown on my personality and hobbies and such.. and well, if you're reading this, you know the cause for concern. i'm a tad... well... original. my personality may, or may not be, overwhelming if taken all in one dose, so you understand my reason for warning the poor unsuspecting girl. one can only hope she likes music and has an accepting sense of humor.
she's from japan, and just in case, i have taken the liberty to reassure her that not all americans are as original as i am. i'm rather partial to that description of myself, original, so i think i'll stick with it. it's a lot nicer than some of the things i've been called ;-)
she sounds like a really nice kid, though, so meeting her is something that i'm all for. helen, on the other hand, is still MIA. helen is my other roomie, by the way. either she's a figment of the admission depeartment's imagination (possible, they seem rather delusional, as they have accepted me and reccomended me to be in such high things as the crown honors program [poor, unknowing fools]), or maybe she just doesn't check her school email. helen, i wait in the throes of excitement for your reply! if that sounded too needy, just ignore it because it wasn't meant to sound that way.
another NORMAL entry?! what is this?! do i suddenly become fitting of the status quo?! this is madness, it's inconcievable, it's- i meant what i said and i said what i meant, an elephant's faithful one-hundred percent!
no, no i guess not. obviously, normal is still not the word.
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[31 Jul 2005|10:39pm] |
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mood |
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 sticky |
] |
Phew. Tonight I am not going to write about anything that I have already thought out. I refuse to reveal any previous product of my mental wanderings. I choose to recount neither my past moments, nor my future ambitions. I will tell you the moment and nothing more.
This instant I am experiencing that feeling of semi-dried sweat, but keep in mind that I don't tell you this to be disgusting, only to give you myself as of now. You know, the sticky, detatched, gross feel of having sweated your brains out and then let yourself partly air-dry. You know, the accomplished, satisfied, whipped-but-in-a-good-way feel of having given your all to that damn treadmill, and then fell down in a heap on the cement of your basement floor because you couldn't move another muscle. Have you ever felt your heart beating inside your head? Have you ever been deaf to the sounds of everything besides your own breath coming ragged in your lungs? Have you ever suddenly become accutely aware of sweat seeping from everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE on your body... And then wondered, "You can sweat from your elbows?!" because you've just realized that your elbows are sweaty? I love staggering off of that damn treadmill, my vision all fuzzy, the smell of basement in my nose and the taste of salty sweat on my lips. You can call me a weirdo, if that's really what you want.
Just now I sigh and notice that my throat no longer has that constricted, can't-swallow-because-that-two-seconds-of-lost-breath-makes-you-gasp-for-air tightness. I'm currently thinking that running only sucks as an idea. It sucks thinking about it, dreading it and telling myself that I have to. Running sucks in my mind when I drag myself away from the television to go change into a pair of gym shorts, solidifying the promise that I will indeed be excercising. It sucks as I tie my sneakers and lift my head to stare hatefully at that damn treadmill. In fact, running sucks every single reluctant step over to that damn treadmill, every single avoided movement to turn that damn treadmill on, and every single hated moment of listening to that damn treadmill warm up to the speed that I am going to jog at. It's funny how running ceases to suck as soon as my feet are pounding that black rubber conveyer belt to the tune of "American Idiot," or "Hollaback Girl." When everything blurs out except for that cooler hanging on my basement wall that reads "Wines of Spain," I feel only the running and the sweat and the breathing and the hair that clings to the back of my neck. When I can despise that treadmill so badly, with its time, speed and distance gauges, I have no hate leftover within myself for anything else. I rather like the feeling of only hating one inanimate thing.
I just realized that I did this whole entry with proper punctuation and capitalization. I made grammatical sense and didn't stick periods in random places. I wonder, at this very moment, at this place in time, right now: "What has happened to me?"
CAUTION: If swallowed, drink a glass of milk or water and then contact a Poison Control Center or doctor immediately. Do not induce vomiting.
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[31 Jul 2005|12:31am] |
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mood |
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 sick insane satisfied |
] |
it's late, i tell you, and guess what i just did. i just got through running. running. running. oh and crunches too. do you know WHY i was performing such vigorous excercises at midnight-n-change in the morning. because i ate an ice-cream sandwich while babysitting this evening. can you say sick.
SICK.
im not entirely sure why i felt guilted into running at such a time, but apparently i did. sometimes i jog for the feel good. the afterburn. reveling in the pain as my body begs me to stop. can you say insane.
INSANE.
i don't even like to run, if truth be told. so why, you ask, do i do it. well i've already explained that to you. i think it would actually be much better if i did enjoy said activity becuase then i wouldn't have to make myself do it. but having my favorite jeans feel loose is an exhilerating thing. knowing that i suddenly fit pants that i haven't fit since the seventh grade. can you say satisfied.
SATISFIED.
so say it again. three times fast. don't pause to breathe in between. don't stumble over the words. say it again. sick insane satisfied sick insane satisfied sick insane satisfied... and you have outlined my life.
i ain't heard no fat lady.
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[09 Jul 2005|12:02am] |
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mood |
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happy |
] |
so i didn't know what to write. big surprise because do i ever.
it's like blowing bubbles. in your chocolate milk. through a red-striped straw. while jumping on a huge trampoline. on your birthday. it's like listening to your favorite song. all the way up on the stereo. in the car you wish you had. while driving down the highway. in a california sunset. it's like running and diving. down a yellow slip n' slide. in your best friend's backyard. on a hot summer day. when you're seventeen years old. it's like playing the electric guitar. so loud the house shakes. at three in the morning. and the neighbors call the cops. but the chief of police is your dad so who the fuck cares. it's snowboarding for a whole day. in colorado powder. and not falling down once. and pulling off that trick that nobody will believe you did. but luckily somebody got it on video. it's like everything you could ever love. all at once. with the bad things gone away. forever. and ever. it's like- well wait. i've got it now. it's like you.
if you will be the music. i will write the words.
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[04 Jul 2005|04:17am] |
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mood |
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 visually-challenged |
] |
my eyes are burning and it's the fourth of july.
true and blue and never fail- i guess that would be the slightly military way to put it. it's times like these [times after such a conversation] when i wonder what sort of dictionary you consult when at a loss. and it's times like those [times when you won't speak] that i wonder what you're thinking. hiding it behind that lengthy pause and i can't hear your thoughts for the screaming silence. all of the other times [times full of nothing words] you need not speak your mind because its mine for the reading. so i thought i would take the time to define something for you... you know. for the "just in case" times.
unwavering and without hesitation. despite popular rumor and all that has happened or is happening or will happen. always and no matter what. well duh what were you expecting. of course forever you silly goose. unquestionable because you know the answer is undoubtedly yes. unable to be denied or deterred. you know i'm not lying because how could i lie about something like this. always always so go to bed and don't worry about it because it will be here in the morning. and the morning after that. and the morning after that.
when you understand unconditional... what more do you need to know?
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[29 Jun 2005|12:08am] |
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mood |
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hijacked |
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will this pass for inspiration? i feel hijacked.
it was revealed to me that because i write the way i speak. because my written verbage is the same as my spoken verbage. because i'm just plain insane weird. it makes these journal entries difficult to swallow comprehend. i find this because every once in a while i read them aloud and suddenly the read and the listened heard becomes one and the same and whoever happens to have been within earshot tells me that i make some sort of sense. i have to stare and think what are you smoking huh? because who has the right to understand something that i have inadvertently let seep into print. i am incomprehensible dammit and don't you dare try and get it that's that.
so now here i am supposing that it's not the idiocy content that you do not understand. it is instead the way it appears in print. you get the blurred sentences because a period is much too small to see. my pauses for breath become small black dots and perhaps your lung capacity is greater or smaller than my own because you do not stop where i stop useless moron. your mind eyes does not gasp for air after a run-on the way that mine does. my conscious speaks much the same as my mouth does and cares not for the sentences crashing together in your perception. i guess that a one-word idea hemmed in on both sides by periods does not appeal to you. well fuck you i'm sorry then.
you will roll your eyes because it happens to be ridiculous that i would dream of suggesting that you have the guts take the time to verbalize my words. would you like to understand a bit better? then hear me speak. listen to my breathless-by-the-end sentences instead of wading through what i have come to understand to be cursor-vomit. because the words are accidental incidental however you look at them. HEY! tell me if this was inspiration at all or just the usual bullshit pointless.
and don't i wish i knew better by now?
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[19 Jun 2005|11:00pm] |
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mood |
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 defiant |
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but sometimes i don't stand a chance and i know i'm about to shatter into a million phrases. sentences. words. letters. fragments. and then it shows up somewhere. without my name on the top. and my eyes clear and i shake my head... and it's better.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
of all intimidating things out there in this world. that deter action. that promote turning the other way. that prompt the excuse of i didn't really want to anyway [even if that excuse is made in one's mind and not out loud].
we come to this: a blank page. or perhaps blank save a heading with name. date. class. assignment. double-spaced and written as largely as possible so as to take up half of that hauntingly empty space. then there is a blinking cursor a line or two below. mocking the would-be author. taunting without audible words. or maybe. if you're old-school. its the freshly sharpened number two pencil or new pen fresh from the box [already gnawed if you've got that compulsive chewing thing]. that ticonderoga. that black bic. poised above the crisp white paper. laughing in that smug pencil [or pen] way because you are too afraid to say what needs to be said.
like i mentioned. there is nothing. like a blank page.
this is why we have invented livejournals after all. to put off things that matter in order to outline our entire selves in surveys that people who have no lives to speak of have wasted hours inventing. or so we think to ourselves with a smug grin and a rolling of the eyes. conveniently omitting in our minds the fact that we shouldn't talk because we spend the same amount of time filling them out. just so that people who don't know us become acutely aware of what we wear. what we think. how we like our peanutbutter and jellies [with or without crust]. whether we are virgins. when we stopped believing in the tooth fairy. what our parents called us when we were three that is just so unbearably embarrassing that we would die if anyone ever knew [so we write it online in a survey that the whole world can see]. if ever there was a time that we should roll our eyes at ourselves. this would be it.
but then again. even blank livejournal entry pages are slightly looming. because there. after you have conquered the impossible task of creating a title worthy of your survey-infested or perhaps event-laden recount. there's that gosh-darned cursor again. laughing. blinking. mocking. blinking. and if you didn't know in advance exactly what you were going to tell us. you freeze up faster than grandma's coughing wheezing relic of a computer [that she won't part with because its nice and familiar and she has become rather fond of that ticking-time-bomb thinking noise]. and maybe even if you did know exactly what you were going to tell us you stop. and swallow hard. and make that excuse [only for your own comfort and benefit. so you can sleep better at night]. i didn't really want to write anything anyhow.
and that is exactly what i was thinking when i navigated the internet to this very page. this page named update journal. i was thinking these things to myself and i almost panicked when i caught sight of that [laughing. blinking. mocking. blinking] cursor in this entry box. almost. but then i thought that i would win. i would reveal the cunning secrets of the blank page. make them known so that maybe we wouldn't have to be so afraid anymore. i would start writing and not stop until i had vanquished the unknown. and now i do stop. and realize that it has been thirty-four minutes since i started but i have enough text to scroll through so my efforts have not been in vain. and i realize that now. despite the fact that i haven't really said anything at all. now i am no longer afraid or intimidated. i am not cowed or defeated. i have written on through the void and filled it up with me [without the aid of a survey] so i sigh in relief and claim the following.
i have won.
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[17 Jun 2005|11:13pm] |
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mood |
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dishonest |
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so i was reading through some of my past journal entries- and felt inspiration writhing within me. so here we go again. the big drop after the long ride uphill. hold on as tight as you can to the lap bar and if you close your eyes it will be over before you know it. [hopefully]. these seatbelts aren't nearly enough to make a person feel safe!
hey buddy do you ever find yourself lying. with a perfectly straight face. for no reason other than the fact that it makes you feel better. to obscure the possibly painful reality and nobody else will ever have to know. it's scary how much power lives in the truth and everybody knows how the human race is addicted to abusing any sort of authority. to know i would not and could not ever leave myself without the means to contort actuality- the term brutally honest has depth and meaning beyond the wildest dreams. would you like me to be [gasp] sincere. and [gape] genuine. and [gulp] honest. we both know that you would not. because the things that i think and the way that they materialize within my conscious mind are too breathtakingly ugly to bear. want to hear my version of i swear to god im not lying. you protest that the truth doesn't come in versions- well you're right and it doesn't so now you know that it's never what it's cut out to be. this truth. this sincerity. this fact and not fiction. you would hate it and i do too. i live in a world of fiction and invite you to join me by this crystal clear pool of lies. in the shade of false palm trees. we have lovely weather here so lounge with me and while away the hours of dishonesty. goddammit listen to me when im lying to you. with a smile on my face and laughter in my eyes. hear what i am saying and know that its my distorted version of what is really there. so what then you ask. well. then. you thank me.
i felt like i had been letting you down. by neglecting my role as the darkener of mood. the inspirer of swallow-hard thoughts. the made-you-think-too-much-er. and so now that i am back in the general swing of things i wish you would do me a small favor. i wish you would tell me how you percieve my insight because so few of you do. and when you don't all i feel is that when it comes to my words here's how it goes: i close my eyes and suddenly they're there and i cringe and wonder- is this me. so be reassuring and confirm my suspicions of self. announce aloud to the void-like livejournal universe that i am in fact me. because who else has the stomach to say what i say. to think what i think. to dance with words the way that i do [naked in the moonlight hoping that nobody sees]. so would you please tell me what you feel. lie or tease or do what you will. but show me. show me who you see.
you're welcome for my willingness to fib. because my insight is ghastly.
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[12 Jun 2005|10:12pm] |
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mood |
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sporadic |
] |
a dip into survey-whore world! and i'll leave you with this prayer:
now i lay me down to sleep
i pray the funk will make me freak
if i should die before i waked
allow me lord to rock out naked
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
1)My uncle once: cracked the whole entire car up by accidentally coming up with the statement "i'll slow your children" which was terribly creepy and pedophile-ish
2)Never in my life: have i disliked watermelon (which is why i always rescue it)
3)When I was five: i went down my zipline by my knees and when i fell off on my head they thought i broke my neck and died (obviously i didn't)
4)High School was: an interesting sort of time. just got out, so i don't quite miss it yet...
5)I will never forget: LOTR all night long
6)I once met: this mutual internet friend that happened to be from michigan... and thought: "what are the odds and WHY are our parents okay with this?!" now she's my best friend. weird, eh? :-)
7)There's this guy/girl I know who: once called me a food hoe.
8)Once, at a bar, I: swung on a pole (some bars have them at the end of the counter, i guess) and slipped off and nearly knocked my teeth out on the glass rack.
9)By noon I'm usually: still asleep. it's summer time! oh haha wait, no, that was me being WISHFUL... im WORKING. ugh.
10)Last night/yesterday: i beat my brother's ASS in harry potter trivia... and realized that im a loser.
11)If I only had: a brain...? sorry, being unoriginal.
12) Next time I go to church, I'll: try really hard not to laugh at my brother making stupid faces at me.
13) What scares me the most: is bicycle jim. this one time, when i was younger i had a lemonade stand and he chased us... ::shudders::
14)You know I'm lying when: ...erm, you probably don't. if you knew it would be pointless to lie!
15)You know what I miss most about the eighties: my mom and dad being not divorced and happy together... ah, a sincere answer.
16)If I was a character in friends, I'd be: dead because i would have shot myself
17)By this time next year: i'll be home for the summer... except back from SYRACUSE
18)A better name for me would be: alice...? i do not know, but my great grandmother insists on calling me that- DESPITE the fact that there is NOBODY and NEVER HAS BEEN anyone in the ENTIRE family OR anyone she KNOWS that was named alice. go figure? "hi, nana shaw!" "oh, alice, dear! how nice of you to come by!" "um, my name's not-" ::gets an elbow from dad:: "oomph- i mean, yeah, great to see you too..."
19)I have a hard time understanding: anything when i've just woken up.
20)If I ever go back to school I'll: laugh at the kids sitting in chemistry longblock. muahahaha!
21)You know I like you if: you make me laugh.
22)If I won an award, the first 3 person(s) I would thank would be: bwa?
23)Take my advice, never: accept the offer of "OOooh, linz, have more PEAnuts!"
24)My ideal breakfast is: anything at all. i never have time in the mornings, i'm getting dressed and running out the door all at the same time.
25)A CD I love, but do not have is: the new coldplay
26)If you visit my hometown, I suggest: you keep on going until you hit boston because it's more interesting.
27)Why won't anyone: give me a bazillion dollars?! what is UP with THAT?!?!
28)If you spend the night at my house: prepare to see me at my weirdest.
29)I'd stop my wedding if: i suddenly realized i was gay. no really, wouldn't YOU?! i mean, it'd be worse to go through with it and have kids... and then one day when you're [a man] in your late 40's you go "family, i have to tell you something. I'm running away with Nigel, you know, the delivery guy? yeah, well he gave me a REALLY NICE package one day and..." yeah, you get the picture...
30)The world could do without: mosquitos. seriously.
31)I'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: lick the belly of an old man. well THAT'S a no-brainer!
32)My favorite blonde is: what kind of a question is that?
33) PAPER CLIPS are more useful than: furbies.
34)If I do anything well, it's: talk my way out of things.
35)And by the way: i LOVE that lipstick shade on you!
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[10 Jun 2005|06:09pm] |
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mood |
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 that type of hot |
] |
first of all, a weather update: it's fucking hot. we're talking the backs of your legs becoming fused to whatever you're sitting on type of hot. so that when you get up you leave patches of your flesh on the chair type of hot. and you're sweating when just sitting at the computer type of hot. and that perspiration you can feel dripping down your back in actual drips type of hot. or maybe between your boobs if you're a girl [or just really fat] type of hot. i know, i should be a weather[wo]man.
in other news: im not sure there is anything interesting. just the fact that i am rather hindered and annoyed by people because they tend to be a bit on the hindering and annoying side. we're talking your brother putting on songs about masturbation and then cranking up the volume type of annoying. and your mother telling you she won't compromise about attending that terrible family reunion in hell [maryland] even though it's the week of your birthday type of hindering. so that the high point in your life is your sister taking your car to the cape with her and then sort of forgetting to bring it back type of annoying. or maybe your boyfriend is being really clingy and weepy because he thinks your dumping him for the cute guy but your not type of hindering. you know, i really shouldn't be a news[wo]man.
work is work and summer is summer and i have nothing to look forward to until july. unless my mother decides to be the type of hindering and annoying that- well, you know. i don't think i'll get into that again. you're welcome.
hello? hello? yes, i need back up before i go under.
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[04 Jun 2005|10:13am] |
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mood |
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 oddly french |
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so i woke up this morning and this house was empty. completely devoid of people save myself. in my pajamas, with my terrible morning hair, and my blurry no-contacts vision. they didnt even leave the DOG. you're probably thinking: "so what's the big deal?" and i'll take the liberty of telling you that this house is NEVER empty [except one pajama-ed girl]. THIS house has TEN people that live in it, plus extras when there are visitors. and whats more? they NEVER coordinate leaving at the same time unless there's a family vacation. or a death. so WHO died?! or otherwise, WHO planned a trip to mexico or wherever without telling me?! oh well, i suppose these things happen.
in other news, last night was. interesting. EVERYONE she knows was at prom, and linz was... WORKING. its not a surprise really, and to tell you the truth i wasn't even all that interested in prom anyhow, but now it sort of feels weird to be probably the only senior in this entire town that isn't drunk or hungover. oh well, i suppose these things happen. however, as a saving grace, work [and the past few days in general] was [were] a bit on the amusing side. without taking the time for explanation, here are some of the more stand-out-ish items:
- Reb's insight on how the human body responds to lunch at 930 in the morning
- recounting my reason for existence in french for the final
- purposely failing [yes, failing as in 54] Townsend's math exam
- scottie2hottie and his misconception of anorexia
- the allure of the bug zapper
- "its not, its snot!"
- rollerblade queen
- Nic on his ethnicity rant
- Tonya and her leprachaun stature
- new girl Jenna and the gift-certificate mishap
- "poor baby has to do his job!" ::smacked ass over tea kettle with pizza dough::
- dress-me-up Kevin [enough said]
- Brendan is sensitive but makes delicious french fries
- playing FIND DE SKVID
- "someone is getting fired tonight" as a goal
- you were so sleeping
- etc
all in all i guess the mood is happy that things have been fun. sort of pissed off because i cant have june or july with which to create havoc in company of the friend formally known as cat. unless she would like to brave heat and humidity and awkward family-ness to spend the week of my birthday in maryland. i dont think i'll hold my breath on that one. there is august but that is rather far away and im leaving for orangetown on the 23rd. where the hell is the summer going to go. oh well, i suppose these things happen. i hope you've had a spectacular time at prom because you most likely went!
a bientot je pense- ah christ, ive just had a french spasm!
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[25 May 2005|04:10pm] |
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mood |
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elderly |
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yeah. i um... well, would you look at that! im marrying bethany when im 56 years old! and okay, frankly? ELEVEN times in one night is simply not enough for me. i guess we'll just have to get it in now because old age might slow us down a little. also, she may be going to bed at NOON by then instead of 7:45 like she does now... so yeah, guess i have THAT to look forward to. at least its a summer wedding, right? HEY! at least my last fling was actually with a man...
thought i'd toss a light-hearted entry at ya for once :-)
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[24 May 2005|05:02pm] |
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mood |
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 lame |
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sometimes i think that im really different. but i always know that i am. how does it feel to be the odd man out. if you knew my brother. and you knew my sister. youd wonder where the hell did i spring from. my brother says that im socially ostracized. and i suppose that from his point of view. i am. not that i mind. honestly. its just sort of not the best to get weird looks because im graduating in 18 days. but i dont want a party. why would i after all. its not really my thing to invite lots of people that i only vaguely know over to my house for a gathering at which i will find myself wishing to be anywhere. but there. its not my thing to have a party. its success gauged only by how many people show up. sheer weight in numbers will win the day. in their mystery personalities. in their familiar anonymity. leave me alone please i dont want to be part of the popularity contest that occurs because everyone decides to have their bash on the same saturday afternoon. from four until whenever. rsvp but we know you wont in case a better invitation is slung in your direction. somehow a contest that i am destined to lose because nobody wants to hit a pinata or wear party hats anymore. mom my party has to be better than everyone elses and if no one shows up i hate you and you have ruined my life and we wont speak ever again. mom you are the best unless of course this party is lame.
you know what. im lame.
but i know your party will be the best.
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[17 May 2005|11:18pm] |
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mood |
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 dizzy |
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i want to spin you around. you know what? sometimes i feel like i dont know you like i used to know you. its fleeting though, cant pretend that i always feel this way. just sometimes. every so often. sparingly. its a double-take that i do, after all. its me looking at you and then for a moment in time i turn the other way. and when my eyes return to your face. i wonder who it is that im looking at. this cannot be you? i say and ask myself all at the same time. but then i know deep down that it is you and perhaps it is i who has changed. and THEN... pal. THEN i spin again and there you are. returning the gaze with confusion because its only to me that there ever was any difference. or maybe this is just a one-sided story. as it always is. so how do you see it.
i would bring you to a brand new high... but for now? goodnight moon.
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[15 May 2005|08:20pm] |
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mood |
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 ignorant |
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You know what? I sit here staring at the blinking cursor at the top of a blank document, (save the 3 lines obscured by a heading) and i realize that i have no inspiration to satisfy the demands of a paper about the 1950s in America. I have no artful phrasing to encompass the era of poodle skirts, and no desire to expound upon the effects that Elvis' pelvic thrusting had on people of the time. I could care less about white picket fences, and women with hour-glass shaped figures. Not one brilliantly designed sentence about station wagons and the all-american boys sitting in the back of them dribbles out onto the page. I sigh and let my mind drift something else. Starting a journal entry. Knowing that later I'll regret doing so. So here I am, unwilling to do battle with the Cleavers, instead opting to chat with you. You should feel good about yourself, at least for a few moments. I want to talk with you, pal. Only with you.
I'm thinking that when the smoke has cleared, blood in my mouth always beats blood on the ground. Don't know what I'm talking about? Well, I guess only the fact that I am just now realizing that keeping my mouth shut, biting my tongue instead of letting it wrap itself around unwanted words, is preferable to upsetting others. I find myself extremely proficient at swallowing the salty, morbidly satisfying liquid... And dismally terrible at cleaning it up after I've spilled gallons of it all over the floor. I have no swiffer wet jet for this job, not even a good old fashioned mop and bucket. I am without the ability to suture the wounds that my words create. I scowl. So, it is with that finally-arriving epiphany that I tell myself that my future resolve will contain the promise to keep my big fat mouth shut. I tell myself this, but know deep down that it may or may not happen. Remind me of this promise, will you please? I'm forgetful and it's no excuse, but I am human. Painfully obvious, isn't it?
Before today, I always pretty much figured that it's easier to be small. By small I mean the small that comes with being 5, 6, 7, 8 years old. I felt this way because to be young is to be without too much responsibility, and with the freedom to play hide and seek all the day long. Okay, so today Mitch yanked my sweat shirt hood down over my eyes and kissed me on the forehead... And yes, it made me feel small, but in that nice way. Some time after that, I again felt small, but not so nicely. It was more in the vein of pathetic, than nice. I had to sigh again.
And then there's this new addition to my stash of good advice: "If I were you, I would kill myself." This comment is courtesy of my younger brother, Beau. "Actually, Linz, NOBODY LIKES YOU." He knows everyone, ya know. "Everybody thinks you're a loser. If I were you, I would kill myself. I would have a long time ago." As promised, I plan on taking that piece of advice and saving it for a rainy day. Maybe one time, a while from now, when it's sort of dreary out, I'll open my metaphorical box of advice and extract that bit. And then I'll kill myself, because I should have long ago. I can't help but notice that my sister Leah shared that exact same sentiment. The "Nobody likes you!" and "You have no friends!" and "You should just kill yourself, you loser!" seem alarmingly common. I'm not about to slash my wrists, but being human... I can't help but feel that sting a little bit. A lotta bit if you really wanted to know. Let's move on?
I'm sorry pal, but now I feel empty. It's sort of a weird, funny ache. It's that smiling crying feeling. It's the swallow and look away expression. Anyhow, I suppose I should get back to the 1950s. Elvis' Pelvis is calling my name... Or maybe even Elvis' Pelvis hates me. How's a girl supposed to know these things? Thank you for listening, pal, we should talk again. Some time.
you should make amends with you.
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