Friday, October 31
Happy Halloween.
I never put any effort into what I write at all. I just sort of write and then it is what it is and if I hate it I throw it away and if I love it I keep it and if it's somewhere in between I save it to read some other time. I do that with things for school too, though. I just write them and then turn them in. I usually don't proofread or anything of that nature. And then with this blog. I'll be like "oh, hm, I should post." So then I start typing and if I get bored then I'll just stop and never actually post. I've probably started something and then just gone away and not finished about twenty times since the last time I posted. And now I'm just typing about typing. Ridiculous. I also have a fever and am in a sort of bizarre, half-awake daze and am not actually sure that I'm making any sense, but I'm pretty sure that this is all okay. All okay. It is all okay.
I brought Celeste her spiral in a very not-okay way today and you should ask me about it because I think it's rad and the fact that I think it's rad is a very bad sign and the fact that I say "rad" is a very very bad sign. But it's still all okay.
I started reading East of Eden today and it's a very good book and I really like how the first chapter is just about rain and flowers and those important things.
It's really nice when Nora and Miles pick me up after the football game and then give me candy and then talk forever so that I fall asleep on the floor listening to them mumble about music and band and such things and then when I wake up it's morning and I feel really good because I love sleeping on the floor, except that I'm sick so I feel bad, but it's still really nice anyway.
I said to my mom that my body and I have poor communication and she was like "how ridiculous! You are your body," and I just thought that was really weird. Isn't that weird? I tried to explain how it was weird but it was a lot of typing so I just deleted it and am hoping you'll find some way for it to be weird for you, too. Then I'll feel like it's still pretty much okay. Of course, it is pretty much okay, I just like to feel like it is, too. It's sort of annoying to feel like it's all wrong when you know it's all right and then that leads to lots of other things that I don't have the energy to type out. I'm going to go sew now.
Wednesday, October 22
Hey, all you dawgs out there, this post is for my main D-meister, better known as, uh, Dulcey, and I'd just like to give a real loud shout out to her and say "I LOVE YOU, BABE!"
Haha, lame. Anyway...
Thank you to (in alphabetical order):
Abby, for being AWESOME and for smiles and for happy birthdays
Amber, for the M&M's and Play-Doh
Anna, for the beautiful Play-Doh creations
Celeste, for the sixteen pinches and those fuckable fingers
Danny, for begging
Dulcey, for the awesome CD
Eric, for the ass-touching privileges
Holly, for my dragonnn and for being Holly
Jonathan, for the moaaaaans because he has an amazing sense of humor
Kathryn, for the promised vittles (and Aunt Kay)
Kendall, for being sweet and huggable and for promising french horn fun next year
Linz, for the proposal
Lucas, for being a) sexy and b) 27
Mike, for the hugs and being hilarious
Miles, for dinner and a great time
Nora, for the book/decorations/bonding/amazing sister-ness
Parents, for the usual birthday stuff
Patrick, for reconnecting me with the wonder of techno's insta-orgasm
Perry, for being pretty like always
Sam, for making me laugh no matter what within thirty seconds
Samantha, for being my wife even though I'm terribly unfaithful
Steph, for the promised birthday-ness and for being HOTTT
Taler, for knowing everything I don't in chemistry
Valery, for ALL THE DAMN COOKIES
Wes, for the free massages
...and anyone who's done anything nice ever or who I've forgotten in which case I'm REALLY REALLY SORRY AND I STILL LOVE YOU.
End, the.
P.S.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIZ, LOVE FOREVER, ETC...
Monday, October 20
Happy birthday to me.
I live in a tree.
I look like a monkey,
And I smell like a flea.
Soooooo...
I'm sixteen. Wahoo. OH, AND, I HAD AN AMAZING REALIZATION. (Even better than the fact that 'Akins' backwards is 'Snika') I'M INSANE. HAHAHAHA.
Man. Remember how we had to write that story for English about your first friend, a time you'd been bullied, or blah blah blah? Yeah, well, I wrote about Mr. Ben H. and it's was supposed to be about a friend, but it sort of ended up sounding like a bullying story, which is okay, because I meant it all sarcastically, and she doesn't really care. But man, she loved it. And, come on, it was pretty damn good. Especially how I filled it with all sorts of inside jokes and such and entitled it "Hardee, Inc." End, the.
Sunday, October 19
I dreamed I killed my father. It was moderately traumatic. That, of course, got my thinking about dreams in general. It got me thinking about how, when I was younger, I would wake up from horrible nightmares and be petrified and paralyzed and would whimper to my mom and she'd come sit with me until I went back to sleep. It got me thinking about how, when we moved to Aggie Lane, I couldn't sleep because I was used to sharing a room with Nora and suddenly she wasn't there, so my parents made me a little bed in my closet so that I could feel safer. It got me thinking about all those sorts of nice things my parents used to do for me back when we were still, you know, a family. It got me thinking about how much I hated growing up, and how much I still do, and how I would give anything to be back in elementary school, living in one home with two parents, watching Nora in awe as she reached all those landmarks, like being a decade old. So I was pretty much in a sort of numb, reminiscent mood all day. Sharing a chair with Nora while watching Saturday morning cartoons and talking about the days when we could sit side by side instead of one on top of the other really didn't help my emotional well-being. It was nice, though. All of it was. Anyway, I went for a bike ride tonight. I was going to visit five or six different people while I was out, but I wasn't really in a "people" mood, so I just wandered for about two hours and then came home. I'm really not a very good daughter, considering that I sneak out at ten to ride my bike. But at least I don't do drugs, or drink, or anything like that. And at least I'm still in school, even though I'm doing terribly. And at least I'm still alive, somehow. So I guess I'll shut up about today.
Friday was Holly/Lucinda day and we went to see Runaway Jury. It was pretty damn good. We also bought each other birthday presents. AND we have an AMAZING plan that makes me incredibly happy because it will finally allow me to appreciate the people that just enthrall me. End, the.
P.S.
Today I made myself a birthday cake. Then I ate half of it and have to make another one for my actual birthday on Monday. Also, this whole "broken home" thing is really awesome because I get to celebrate my birthday with Nora and my dad this afternoon, more with Nora and Miles tonight and with my mom on Monday evening. I win.
Monday, October 13
Saturday was Westlake. We did pretty well. Yesterday was Amber's party. That was fun. And now, back to how ridiculous everything is:
Ode to Ridiculosity
Ridiculosity is not a word
I am filled with ridiculosity
Because
I am not a word
Nor do I exist
Which is why
I am like the sphere and the equilateral triangle,
Both at the same time.
Just like I'm odd
And even,
And you'll never know which.
...
In a little while I'm moving somewhere. I'm not exactly sure what it's called, but it's supposed to be lots of fun. Rbert and Eoeper gave it two thumbs up. It's the kind of place that's sort of hard to get to, and once you're there, it's really hard to leave. That's okay though, since I really don't like leaving places. And you're probably thinking that doesn't make sense since I have to leave here to go there, but that isn't how it works. I'll still be here for a while. And I'll leave really slowly. So slowly that I won't even notice. By the time I'm gone, you won't remember me, and I won't even know I've left. I'm pretty excited about it, actually, because there are rocks there. Not normal rocks, but the kinds of big big big rocks that, when you sit on them, fill you with infinite understanding of everything until you stand back up. And then you're left with that warm fuzzy feeling, like putting on clothes that are still hot from the dryer. Oh! I forgot the best part! Everyone is invisible. I'm there with so many people, but I can't see them! And they can't see me! It's like being absolutely alone! Except that you aren't! Man. Now I'm really excited.
P.S.
Happy birthday, Holly.
Wednesday, October 8
In twelve days I will be sixteen. In eighty-eight days I will get my driver's license. Fuck.
Hm. Well. I just got back from a lovely stroll around the neighborhood. I suppose that it's rather ridiculous to be fighting with myself all the time. I've noticed that, lately, my lows are lower and much more intense but also shorter, and my highs are faaaar longer. Odd odd odd. Is it just me or is the world ending? Anyway, today, after school, I shot a man I saw walking down the street. He was holding the hand of a little girl. I was going to just let the girl go, but then I shot her, too. And I then proceeded to kill everyone I know...and myself. I am, of course, not typing this. How could I be? I am dead! What you're reading is a figment of your imagination. You crazy fool. Go away! GO AWAY!!!
"She said I was living like no one else can and I told her it's called being dead."
Monday, October 6
I'm not at school again. Fever and vomiting and all that jazz. Although I'm pretty much okay now. That was all mostly yesterday. Anyway, I've got lots of homework to do and that's not fun. Um, my cat makes me like super happy. It's like the comic, "Rose is Rose," when her cat nuzzles her and she goes all crazy happy high. Yeah, so, uh, sharing is good. I shared my tuna salad with my cat. I like tuna salad. Oh my god, a story about why my dad is horrible:
Once upon a time, Daddy came home from the store and said to Lucinda, "Ich mache eine Essen daß du wirklich mögen werden," (I'm making a meal that you'll really like). And Lucinda said "Oh yay!" Then, a while later, he said "Essen ist vertig!" (Supper is ready!) However, Nora whispered to Lucinda, "Don't get too excited, you won't like it." Very confused, Lucinda went to the kitchen to see what was for supper. Daddy had made tuna salad, her favorite meal! But...oh no...THAT FUCKING BASTARD DID IT WRONG. And it's not like he didn't know how Lucinda likes her tuna salad, he just wanted to be a jackass and make her eat it his nasty nasty way. Nora called him a cruel jerk and said that it is so terrible to make a sick child's favorite meal a way that he knows she won't eat it! Yay for Nora. Poor sick Lucinda went to her room and cried. Then she came out and made her own tuna salad the right way. End, the.
P.S.
I really really really miss Mr Owens.
Thursday, October 2
So, I didn't go to school today. Actually, I went to school to turn in work, buy my marching shoes and do my chemistry lab, and then I went back home. Whatever. Anyway, Valery gave me cookies and so I love her forever. And she finished our horn shirts so I love her forever more. Haha, yeah, I rode the bus. I hate the bus. Stupid scary bus with stupid scary bus drivers and stupid scary people. Also, stupid scary hall monitors who have an amazing ability to make me feel like shit just by saying "hey! You!" I am a wimp. I am a horrible wimp. Also also, stupid English archetype project that makes no sense and is ridiculous and makes me a cactus on the outside but a sunflower on the inside, odd on the outside and even on the inside, blah blah blah.
Um, so, everyone interesting is on their way to the football game right now and I'm just sitting here, full of popcorn and hotdogs, blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah. Blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah! Blah, blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah, blah blah blah; blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah. Blah!!!!!!! End, the.
