10:22 AM  ()

(+ Last Days of April, "Aspirins & Alcohol")

I'd give anything to be able to fly right now. Strong dragon wings, silent, and quick. But I'd also give anything to have the vehicle right now, I want to drive. I want to get away from here. And she threatens me with no tickets and no money if I don't give her another cigarette. Neither unsettles me, she doesn't get a cigarette. I ask if she's honest, she says 'yes' as her eyes look all over the room except for where I'm sitting. She's not honest. I don't understand her sometimes, she's whacko.

I'm glad I have the house to myself.
Training starts: March 12th, 2003 9:00 a.m. rather than March 10th.

9:13 AM  ()

Mom, stay the hell out of my room.

February 27, 2003
10:30 PM  ()

you spray bad kitties.
I watched Dead Poets Society for the first time tonight, and well... damn. I am impressed. Mark was right, I hadn't lived. And now I have. Ha. Either way, fantastic movie. And there's one scene in it and a character (Todd) that I can really relate to. The scene where Williams is swirling Hawk around the room, round and round, forcing him to blurt out whatever is coming to his mind, closing his eyes, hand covering, everything's frustrating, everything's fast. I was quite jealous when he did it. When Williams finally let Hawk go, and he stood there with his eyes closed and kept letting it flow out of him. Very jealous.

It was good.

I went and celebrated my good fortune at the diner with Meagan this evening, and then brought her back here. It was good to have someone there to tell the story to. It's been such a hectic and long day, but as my Mom said to me for the millionth time in my life, "everything happens for a reason". So strange. So strange. And then I had the privelege of hearing your smile. What a great end to a day. What a great end to any day. It's only 10:30, and I'm quite ready for bed. I'm tired, my eyelids are heavy.

2:55 PM  ()

Worst day, best day ever.
Coming home from an interview that didn't exist, waiting in the room for half an hour. Apparently everything was cancelled. I found this out when I got home. Why was it cancelled? Oh why, you ask? That's what I asked. Then I noticed the people called from my interview yesterday (the job I wanted in the beginning), and so did Michael. Michael said he had good news for me. Can't get a hold of Michael. So, I called the RCMP office back. Why, you say you chose me?! You chose me?! I got the job?! Oh hell yes, ladies and kitty cats. I'm amazing. I. AM. AMAZING. At first, this cup of tea and cigarette were going to be drank and smoked in disgust. Oh, what is it now? VICTORY! Holy shit. Uh. Bye.

8:43 AM  ()

Rescheduled CCRA interview. Roads are too bad for me to drive in right now. So, instead of 9:30, it's now 1:30. I don't know anything about this job. I really don't feel like putting my life at risk for this interview. I really don't feel like going into Calgary for this today. I'm really scared of the RCMP workers. I like Lynn from the CCRA, so far. I want to work there. But they're so far away. What would I do? Office work, of course, but... what is it? Michael, you have disappointed me. Do I even know where this place is? No. But I do have the address. I will find it.

The whole world is out to get me, man.

February 26, 2003
8:20 PM  ()

"all in all the clock is slow.
six coloured pictures all in a row
of a marigold."
I think my brain just broke into two pieces.
I have a massive headache.
I wrote the craziest things.
"She's there in case I wandered off.
He's scared because I warned.
She's there in case I want it all.
He's scared 'cause I want."

11:37 AM  ()

holy jesus and all those guys.
I've never felt so small in my life.

8:49 AM  ()

two things and i need an excessive amount of coffee.
- Good luck, Heather, at 10:30 a.m. (Interview, cross your fingers for me.)
- Good luck, Heather, at 2:00 p.m. (Doctors appointment. Must get knees, the corner of my eye, and my back checked out. Oh yes, and ask for another perscription for something I need.)

February 25, 2003
9:14 PM  ()

nice night for a drive.
like a ghost.

Tempting, isn't it? Everything's so tempting on nights like these, nights where there's really nothing better to think about, or do. Tempting to shatter the glass, tempting to break bones, tempting to scatter photographs all over my bedroom floor. Living, breathing, and for no particular reason. It's nights like these. Isn't it?

Bridget Jones' style:
10.5
130

So small, so small.
And you hear the warning before a television program and you don't even give it a second thought. I wonder why they try to save their asses for anything these days. Every program, every something. We're all trying to save our own asses. And I think, "Why? Why would they name a sports bar such a name?" They might as well call it The Penis Sports Pub or something more blatent. One Eyed Jack's. How ridiculous. I tell her we'll go there, we'll go there and play some pool and laugh at the fact that we're standing in the middle of a place with such a ridiculous name.

It's ten after nine and I should probably go to sleep. I should wake up early in the morning and dress myself up. Look more like a sophisticated woman. Let my hair fall loose on my shoulders, darken my eyelashes and hide the darkness under my eyes that shows to prove my late nights. Shave my legs, wear that straight black skirt that stops just below my knees, nylons, and a nice pair of boots. Rootbeer Lipsmackers tucked into my bag just so my lips don't get too dry. I'm nervous because this is the job I want, these are those who I want to be working with. I don't want to work with a Tax Company, I find that quite embarassing. I find it boring. I find it 98% less interesting than the job I applied for. But, I'll take it if I must. So, I'll wake up on Thursday and do the same thing. Make myself come off as though I know what I want, I know what I'm doing. I suppose I do, in a way. The greatest part about it is I'll also be dressed as myself, my personality will show through either way, and I won't come off as though I'm trying too hard. I don't think I've ever done that. Or maybe I have. I'm usually quite laid back when it comes to something like this, or maybe I just like to think I am. Who knows, I don't see myself from the outside. You know. They know. No one ever tells me, though.

Four minutes have passed. I think I'll grab something to eat, and then lock myself in my bedroom for the night.

4:25 PM  ()

sex, sex, sex.
Everyone's talking about sex today. Everyone I've talked to so far today has mentioned sex. Or them wanting sex. Or experiences with sex. And Meagan says I look pretty, seeing as it's National Talk About Sex day or something, I think she wants in my pants.

February 24, 2003
11:58 PM  ()

jerome busted up his mitt.
Alright, Iginla. I remember when we had reading competitions in grade 6, and your card/bookmark was the last to recieve. I won. I totally won. I blame you for my nerdiness in grade 6. I also blame China, and that awesome project I completed in two days and handed in. Three weeks to complete. Who was the only one who got 100%? That's right, Heather was the only one who got 100%. Oh man, how I wish I could get those marks now. That reminds me, I should probably start typing out my assignments and sending them off into the cyber world to be marked and sent back.

I'm sorry to everyone who had to talk to me today. I was and still am such an awful person to talk to right now. I feel disgusting, I feel worthless, and I feel like a failure. Although I am none of these things, the fact that I'm feeling them is affecting my attitude towards everything. My parents get the worst of it. I feel really bad about it, and this is just so you know. If I'm being an asshole, hang up on me or walk away from me. I think I'm going to distance myself this week, I think I'm going to make use of this alone and boring time. I need to be alone right now, seeing as I'm not the nicest person to be around at the moment. I'm really not. Now that I think about it, I haven't been the nicest person to be around in a while. Uh, hmm. I'm sorry.

I'm also lacking creativity.
Now that is frustrating. The only thing I'm good at right now is coming up with negative "scenes" or possibilities for my life just before I go to sleep. It's been helping me fall asleep, actually. Probably a sick thing to say. But it has. It puts me in such a stupid and sad state that I fall asleep. I either do that, or I think of a field with wind blowing through it. Almost like counting sheep, huh? Heh.

I recieved an e-mail from some random person today telling me that they read my blog and then they asked how I was doing. I found that interesting. So, I replied with a short message. I don't know, it's nice to know that someone I don't even know was curious about my well being. Or maybe they weren't, maybe it was just a force of habit that pursued their fingers to type and ask. Either way, it was kind of neat.

See?
Useless. To you. Not to me. But to you. I'm so ready to remove my pathetic digital identity from this cyber world. But I won't, because I'd be back within a few hours anyhow. Somewhere. I should start calling myself "Alice" again. Start wearing the dress again, like when I was a kid, running around and refusing to be called by my real name for weeks at a time. No, I won't do that. I think I'll just go to sleep instead. I wish I was falling asleep next to you. I wish I was asleep already.

6:08 PM  ()

they're gonna be famous.
Talking so quickly, he was so excited and with every right. I was in the bathtub when he called, and after I hung up the phone it kind of hit me: if I was in his position I would be running around my house, half skipping, screaming and laughing and doing all sorts of crazy things. "I have crrrazy news." Crazy, indeed. Good luck, boys.

9:24 AM  ()

everyone's going to be angry today.
1.

February 23, 2003
10:43 AM  ()

no really, welcome to the dollhouse.
Why am I awake right now? Why did I smoke that last cigarette last night at 5:30 in the morning when I was still awake? Why did I stay up until 5:30 in the morning? I didn't do anything. I sat there, and I stared at the wall for all those hours. Checked the computer but the connection was out. 5:30 a.m. Insomnia's hit me again, baby. I'm so pissed off about this. I can barely talk without sounding like a complete fucking bitch. Can I get back to sleep? No. That's an impossibility when I want to go back to sleep. Impossible. I can't believe this. I'm so angry.

February 22, 2003
5:19 PM  ()

wondering what parts
made you feel like smiling the most.
"What touches you? I know sincerity does. There's more, and I may already know about a few, but I want you to tell me. Does the scent of a summer morning? Or freshly cut grass? When the moon looks too big for the earth's sky? Shooting stars? The fogging up of car windows while driving in the winter due to two lovers dying of anticipation? The way a fresh piece of paper, untouched, looks as you so badly want to scribble endless lines all over it but just can't? Save it from something pretty, right? I suppose those are a few examples of what hit me hard, but what about you?" - part of a letter.

And this book that I am reading. My, oh, my. The main character depresses me terribly. I'm going to go upstairs and play dead in the water of the jet-tub in my parents bathroom. I hate that thing, but I really feel like having some time to myself right now. Maybe I'll shave my legs. "I really do have no life right now. I'm doing nothing but waiting and waiting, and I'm beginning to feel quite worthless."

I've been waiting for two months too long, and I'll be waiting for more.

This particular writing of hers has really put a downer on me, and it's fiction. Not real. Maybe I should stop reading that book. But of course, I'm going upstairs to soak in overly warm water, and I'm taking the book with me for something to do. Something to keep me in the water for more than 7 minutes. I'll probably get uncomfortable as usual and get out before I even decide to pick up the book. Ah well, being relaxed for 3 minutes is better than none. But damn, that's going to be a huge waste of water. Do I care right now? No. I don't.

February 21, 2003
9:50 AM  ()

Two weeks, now. 14 days. Excellent. Waiting, waiting, waiting for wednesday, friday, and sunday. All I do is wait, all I want to do is wait. I wish I could sleep while I waited.

12:26 AM  ()

I didn't like today. I don't like tonight.
I am so unbelievably whiny right now, I can't sleep because I just ... can't. I feel like I'm missing something and it's driving me nuts. Something's out of place, somewhere, and I can feel it. I don't like that feeling. I'd check everything but I'm really not up for that right now. In order to fall asleep I'll have to leave the television in my room on, which racks up on the electrical bill. I've done enough damage to the telephone bill this month, no need to hike up the price on the electrical bill. She lied to me about the phone bill though, said I went $200 over or something. I found it today, it wasn't even $40 over. My minutes were fine, it was just the calls I made before the "free time" hit. Or whatever. Stupid long distance. Yeah! Stupid distance. I'm going i n s a n e !

I can't sleep. I can't sleep. I can't sleep. I can't sleep. . .. . ... . .. .... (you don't even want to know how long I took my time on typing out those dots)..

February 20, 2003
1:10 PM  ()

15% off, they said. last one there.
new main picture: I totally know what I'm going to do with this journal.

8:49 AM  ()

7.
"Look, Mom, I don't understand why you're waking me up this early just to get 'dressed'. This isn't it, you know. This isn't the interview itself. And we've already had this discussion with Michael about appearance and clothing. He wants us to dress casual, not all prettied up."
- But Heather, this is a Personal Assessment, it's the interview. You're going to have to make yourself look good.
"Oh, Mom, no doubt. But I don't need to powder up my face so that it's white and put on a dress like you want me to. I'm not a child, I can't go in looking like one."
- I want you to look nice for me today.
"For you. Go figure. I'm throwing on some jeans and a sweater. That's about it."
- We're going in early so we can drive slow. It's snowing and we'll go for coffee or something.
I'm thinking, "Oh shit, Mom's driving. It's snowing. Over cautious. We. Are. Going. To. Die."
"Okay."
- Heather, this is it. You have to look good.
"MOM. It's not it. 'THE' interview occurs when I meet the mentor, that is when I make myself look like Princess fucking Diana."
- There's one more interview after this?
"Yeah, if not, more."
- This is ridiculous.
"Tell me about it. What's in this juice?"
- 2 carrots and 2 apples.
"Sick. Wait, apples?"
- Yeah.
"Uh, Mom. I can't eat fruit in the morning."
- What? Why not?
"Mom, you used to make sure I didn't eat fruit in the morning. I get sick from it. Stomach aches, throwing up, etc. I can't eat fruit within the first 3 or 4 hours that I wake up."
- Oh, shit. Are you going to be sick?
"I don't know. We'll have to see."

And now, my stomach is churning, I want to lay on the ground and die. It's snowing, I'm freezing. I slept on the couch with my fake fur jacket over my head and the blanket over the lower half of my body. The couch that I was sleeping on is close to the basement doors, it's impossible to stay warm. I was too lazy to move from there all night. I kind of hope I vomit all over Michael if they piss me off again today. Mind you, I shouldn't let them know I'm pissed off.

Sigh, I don't want to have coffee with my Mom. Not today. The look she had on her face when I finally opened my eyes during that conversation wasn't a kind one, so ever since I've woken up and seen that, I've also had a not very kind look on my face. Oh, dear. There's going to be fighting galore this morning, and I'm going to die because she's is most likely the worst driver ever.
Agh, I have to go. Stomach, reflexing... throat. Ew. Why do I always get sick so damn easily?

February 19, 2003
10:52 PM  ()

"Let me be your drug."
Now that was a damn satisfying mad-typing session. I liked writing that e-mail to you. I wish I could have said it, though. Le sigh. I'm such a nerd.

Great and hilarious conversation with Meagan tonight. The diner now has been violated with such crazy sentences and our loud laughs. We are crazy girls.

4:17 PM  ()

old entries.
"We're on fucking fire, baby."
Coffee, together, soon. Please? I miss her.

And Mom, you're annoying.

11:27 AM  ()

drummin' the beat of a song on this desk of mine.
I just woke up and my hair's a complete mess, I don't care. Who said that the fire was falling from the sky? You're a liar. I once was told I would look fantastic with dredlocks. I was braiding it all last night at first in the theatre, I really have to stop playing with my hair. At any rate, I ended up with something that looked like dredlocks. I don't think I even gave it another thought, I saw it, and then my hair looked greasy for the rest of the night. It looked good though, but I was tired. Can you help me find a way to carry on again?

Let's play killer guitar and make funny faces at one another. You thought your problems were gone. The music is so loud, my ears will most likely ring once I turn it off. I had to hide my cigarettes behind my garbage can last night. She's asking me again, she's bribing me again, and it's working. I feel so weak and feeble. It's true. I am. To an unbelievable extent. I had a dream and she called me and laughed, said something that didn't make sense and apparently everything was quite fly. Sure, I don't know what's going on. I never know what's going on. I'll find someone new.

I'm dancing. I'm hyper. I'm alone in the house for the first time in a while. She said she went to Calgary, I said goodbye. She told me to clean up, again. I don't know what to clean anymore. Carry me away, away, away. My dog had a bad dream last night, he freaked out and crawled from the other end of the couch to where I was sitting and rest his head on my lap and just looked up at me with watery eyes. I felt so sorry for him. I shhh'd and it's-okay'd him to sleep again. He was like a child, and he also had that freshly bathed smell of Nicholas. Nicky was much smaller than him though, and he wasn't as comfortable in such weird positions. My dog sleeps in the most uncomfortable looking positions, it's insane. It's in the kitchen. It's in the water. My kids will get it. Tiny things calling me, and the bleach. I can't stop, I can't stop. Grow and grow, taken over, got to win, got to clean. Now my feet are tap, tap, tapping to the beat of the music and it's in the water. My acoustic guitar is resting against the wall, tempting me again. There is no preferred silence, obviously. Tunes are screaming from all speakers. He makes very sexual sounds. It's so cliche. It's in the washpale.

I want the snow to melt so I can go outside and scream things at the golfers like Cameron and I used to when we were younger. Cameron doesn't live beside me anymore. And now it's a delivery. Girl had a baby and she gave her to the world. Time will never destroy your heart or maybe it will, because I wonder if it can just get too painful and time will just stop. Stopped time would mean that my heart would no longer beat. Although I think lovers' hearts defy all sorts of logic and would still beat. Time slows and stops when lovers are together. Slow motion. World didn't wanna take the baby from the girl. Float on, water way.

Racing, racing. I have no car. Nicotine? Tar? Yes, please.

February 18, 2003
11:41 PM  ()

Well, fuck you, Mr. President.
Seeing as Clifford's already written about it, I won't. He's beat me to it. Either way, I have to wonder how many times G. Bush has said "weapons of mass destruction". Whether it be about anything. That's all I hear him fucking say. All the time. Or is that just me? No, I'm convinced... he says that far too much. It's really annoying. And I like it when Robin Williams makes fun of Bush's very short attention span.

Oh yeah, and Daredevil is such an awful movie. I'm excited for the next X-Men movie, though. Hooboy!

7:45 PM  ()

injured....................that....................way.
- Isn't everything "an exceptionally tacky movie"?
- It's almost like I want this book to have two endings. You know, where the reader reaches a page (like in those childrens mystery novels that you'd always find in the school library) and is forced to make a decision. I'd write the report, but then I'd also want to know what happens if she doesn't. Oh wait, right. Not much, she's dying. What an awful thing for me to say, but it's true. Nothing exciting would happen.
- More than horrible day-dream. I did not like that at all. The fact that it came to me without having really ever thought anything like such before. Jesus, that was not cool at all. Gross.
- I should have ordered Sprite instead of coffee.
- Am I exhausted and sick or am I just dying? Gross coffee, tastes like hate with too much sugar. This cigarette is making me feel old and too thin.
- A little too negatively thoughtful today. Future paranoia. Go away.
- Coming out of that day-dream with an overwhelming feeling, almost scent, of my own death in some unknown place. I can't help but wonder about the situation afterwards for others. Who went to see me and found that door open? With the mess and all those unfinished cigarettes? Were they even coming to see me? What city was I found in limp bodied with eyes open red and dry. Did I really die or did I just go fucking insane? Were my arms hanging off some dirty bed? Or was it just my mind that died? Did I turn into a secret that they'd never talk about? All too strange, not a very good thought at all. Not fun to think about, so why am I? What the hell? I'm so out of it today.
- I shake my head in disgust.
- The prime example of stupidity. Both.
- Arms, hands, fingers: all stretched towards one direction. I was comfortable on the floor earlier, when I was on the phone.
- I want to change the theme of my computer, but I don't know how. It's frustrating me even more so.
- 9:00 PM theatrical appointment, Daredevil. Too funny, have to see it. Ben Affleck is apparently, not on camera, really fat. Ben? Fat? Couldn't be. I like his brother more. Casey. I saw him in that movie with Courtney Love. I'm sure he's been in many others.
- "Thank you, Heather." You're welcome. I can't remember what for.
- "Clean up, Heather." I did, yesterday.
- "Heather, I said clean up." Fine, damnit.
- "Did you clean up?" Yes. "Doesn't look like it." Never does.
- I'd say it in French, too. But I sound absolutely ridiculous when I try to speak that language. You're so pretty.

Testy, testy. 1,2,3,4. Bang.

February 17, 2003
11:05 PM  ()

never ending math equation.

12:31 PM  ()

he tastes like the real thing.
"Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart."

Our palms and fingers aching from being so outwardly stretched for such a long while. The guards holding us from reaching one another will soon give in, very soon.

February 16, 2003
9:36 PM  ()

playing coffee and regular pretend.
Time, time. So much time to waste, but yet there's so little time to do just that with. I'm finally getting together with Adam tomorrow around noon, not being in his class/school anymore kind of affects our continuous mindless jokes and mocking of the girls he likes. And I can't ask him for rides home anymore and then leave by the time he gets there with Kyle because he lived closer to me. Us three, totally free of care. We just don't give a shit and anything offensive we say to one another just doesn't matter. "I feel like I've done something wrong, invaded someone elses property or something." "Why yes, Adam, you are invading someone else's property here." "How so, Heather?" "Stop looking at me." Kyle, Adam, and myself are horrible horrible people when we're together. Horrible. Disgusting. Mean, but only to one another and people who say stupid things... like ourselves.

I don't know, I guess I'm just kind of excited to see that rat bastard tomorrow. Good kid, weird kid, creepy kid. "Heather, tell me you love me." "No. You're gross." And then he laughs all crazy like and creeps me out. He's good at that. Very very good at that. He's much better at it with other girls though. (HA, I hope you read that, you shmuck.)

I'm evil. I'm partly the cause of procrastination, and I am sorry.

Alright, I'm ready for the warm mist to pull me in and soak every article of clothing that I'm wearing. I'm ready to be doused by it's elegance and strong suggestion. Right now, I want it now. But I can abide with the 19 days that remain until it's happening. I can.

12:04 PM  ()

...#2
Also, last night my dream consisted of me drinking excessive amounts of Iced Tea. Honestly, I felt like a labrat or something. It was crazy... what's up with that? Iced Tea? Every 5 seconds I'd turn around and my glass would be full.. oh man, and it tasted so good. I want it.

11:19 AM  ()

...
In much pain. Especially now seeing as it's the morning after. My goodness. Bruises all over the place, dry blood on my lip that I had to clean off when I saw myself in the mirror (I look quite disgusting for that matter, hair all over the place, a very bitter look on my face), an overly sore back and a very very sore ankle. I'm ready to break in half. This is gross. Someone come crack my back, this is driving me insane.

Pain... pain... pain x 9... Holy Jesus....

February 14, 2003
9:09 PM  ()

so it is what it is, and i likes what i gots.
Happy flippin' Valentines day.
I gots my Valentine, even though he's way the hell over there.
I had myself a good meal, I dressed up according to my Mother's standards (meaning: I looked like a little girl, it sucked) with the exception of my boots. I ate Fried Bananas served in Rum Sauce, and I stole shrimp off of my Dad's plate. It was pretty awesome.

I miss you.

And now, it's movie time.

1:49 AM  ()

oh, i'm sneaky.
Brock takes a cigarette out of his pack, and places it back on the table. Brock leans back and gets comfortable, he starts talking to Kyla. I lean over, steal the pack of cigarettes and slowly hide them in my jacket. Kyla's so in on it. I tell Brock to have another cigarette.
"But I'm already smoking one..." Brock doesn't notice at all that his cigarettes are missing.
Have another.
"Here, I tell you what, you have one and smoke it for me."
Okay! with a huge smile on my face as I pull out his cigarettes from my jacket behind me, take one and light it up.
"What just happened?"

Lauryn starts laughing insanely and says that I am the funniest girl in the world.
See that?
THE FUNNIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD.

February 13, 2003
11:40 AM  ()

happy birthday's go to:
1. my brother.
2. my darling, Aaron Champion.
3. the ultimately amazing Katie Oslie.
and for tomorrow:
4. Kyle Knapp, the king of Olds.

onwards.
Am I in a good mood? I'm not sure. I slept well, I fell asleep sort of early. My back isn't aching too much. I'm wondering why my Mother's still home, though. She woke me up earlier asking me if I would drive her into Calgary and that way I could have the car earlier, I said "no", because that's all I ever say when I'm half asleep. That and "okay". Somethin' strange is goin' on here, I'm curious as to what it is. Either way, I'm excited to leave here tonight. Finally I get to see Kyla, and hopefully Lauryn. I plan on spending the night there, Kyla and I are apparently watching a movie that is bound to make me cry. Kyla and I are going to have a big indie-snob emo-sob fest, and most likely pick the fuzz off of each others sweaters. Ha. I love saying that.

Oh, excellent. An e-mail from Kat. Must read. I'm done my rambling here anyway.

February 12, 2003
7:57 PM  ()

you make me want to smile like there's going to be no fucking end to this life i am living. and so I do.

1:42 PM  ()

go figure.
I'm sick, again. Weak, eye-lids are heavy, stomach aching, brain pounding, knees hurting. The pain in my back is agonizing, I should probably go to the chiropractor again, but I'm afraid of him. I can feel the dozens of knots and it's so frustrating. I want to tear all my skin and muscles off, shake it out, and slip back into it. If only, hey? Oh man. And the cleaners are here, I wasn't expecting them. I want to shower and lay in the bathtub and think for a little while, but I can't, because they're in there when I told them not to be. I had Rosanne (?) playing on the TV in the kitchen, and I played solitaire by myself... I was interupted by a "I saw Rosanne on something not too long ago, she's lost weight." I care? Since when did you think I cared? Do I look like I care? My hair's all over the place, I'm walking around in sweatpants and a blue-kitty house-robe. Does it look like I care? No. Don't talk to me. Heather's an angry girl today.

February 11, 2003
8:14 PM  ()

don't have time, not enough time, no.
I'm still quite wired right now, I think I frightened Kyla on the phone. Or at least bored her while I tried to keep cutting into the conversation that my cordless phone was picking up in the garage. I drank too much coffee today. I finished another assignment, I'm proud of myself. A lot of reading goes to those, and it's all so damn interesting. Currently learning how babies pick up on language, and I believe I like the Cognitive theory better than the other two. The learning theory kind of works, but the other (psycholinguistic language theory) just doesn't. It's ridiculous to me. Possible, but ridiculous. Pfft.

I'm getting tired of this waiting around bullshit. I'm waiting around, but I'm busy at the same time, and it's quite mind boggling. I'm actually just starting to get a headache now, probably because I've been far too loud for the past 3 hours.

Meagan's a funny girl. Black/Noir, my dear. Not Starry night. No wonder it's blue. Haha.

It's pretty early in the evening, although late for some, and I have nothing to do. Nothing. I'm lying. I'll go read.

12:44 AM  ()

Psssttt... Hey, you. Yeah. You know who you are.
Listen... read carefully...

February 10, 2003
10:31 PM  ()

a dream and i was sittin' on the swing, watchin' the stars.
- I always love hearing your voice.
I think you killed her though.
- Robin Williams can be so incredibly disgusting, but you can't help but laugh.
- Got stuck at the end of my driveway in the snow, it was quite humorous. I laughed to myself for about 5 minutes before I decided to almost hit my garage door.
- Of course, another 2-3 hours went to working on my psychology course at DT's diner.
And another hour or so with Meagan and making fun of Justin, trying to con him into writing me more grease love letters. At least I didn't bring up the fact that I'm telling the cops he's carrying drugs up his arse. (He doesn't really... at least I hope not, or he's fucked. Ha.)
- Lazy all around.
- Couldn't go to Individual Assessment today, roads were far too bad. Couldn't see Lauryn and Kyla. This upset me, a lot. I really wanted to see those two today. It would have been nice. Maybe tomorrow, or the next. Assessment scheduled for sometime next week. I don't know what the fuck is going on now. The training was supposed to start in the middle of Feb. but now it's starting on March 3rd... for whoever gets chosen by the mentor. Fuck.
- I lit a cigarette backwards just about 10 minutes ago by accident, I'm sort of out of it. That angered me, but of course made me laugh.

Now, I'm getting lost in a day/evening dream. I'm wandering around with no jacket on in the park behind my old house, in the dark, and I'm watching the stars. I'm listening to the warm winds blow through the field and I'm hearing our childish voices screaming and laughing because Trevor just did the splits and hurt himself very badly. Andrea's hiding up on the monkey-bars, and I'm dangling underneath her as she tells me how much she hates her neighbor, Melissa (the girl who carried around the dolls just because younger Britney, also known as Bratney, did as well). I'm dangling there thinking about how much I can't stand Andrea's voice, and hoping John, my neighbor, will hop over my fence and run through my gate towards me. John and I are skating on the home-made icerink his Father poured out for us, and the chair's cracking and my boots are all wet inside. It's getting warmer now, the snow's melting. I'm meeting John's dad for the first time, and asking him if he has any kids. I'm meeting Alinka for the first time on the swings in the park, I find out she's Polish and her Mother makes really good food. We're on our way to her house. Alinka decides that she hates Sarah, who is three years younger than her (two years younger than me). And now Alinka and I are both stuck back to back in the babyswing calling out for my Mother, laughing our pre-teen asses off at our situation. And now I don't live there anymore, I'm just visiting, and the sun's setting. Mike and Katie are leaving me because they're bored, and I'm reminiscing more about my past. I'm gripping the chains of the swing, I sit back, swing my feet a little. The dust is raising a little from the ground and settling again. I'm jumping off the swing, I'm hanging on to the monkey-bars that I now have to crouch to fit underneath and I'm listening to the warm winds blow through the field and I'm remembering our childish voices screaming and laughing.

And now I realize I'm sitting in front of the computer, listening to Nirvana's latest release and the faint voices on the television behind me. I'm bored. I'm not tired. I have nothing to do tomorrow. I'll grab the two dollars I have sitting on my dresser and go for coffee and some more text-book education after I have my shower in the morning.

February 09, 2003
8:40 PM  ()

my body's broken, yours is bent.

7:17 PM  ()

tremendous effects on the ground.
My parents were in a car accident today, nothing big, and no one's fault really. But an accident none the less. Kind of creeped out about that. Anyway, they're fine, just some damage to the back of the car. It's snowing like crazy, the roads are horrible. I'm scared to leave the house and if this keeps up (like it has been and currently is) I won't be able to go for my individual assessment tomorrow in Calgary. It looks like we might be snowed in. I don't know yet, though, I'll find out tomorrow morning. I'm sure if I turned on the news tonight at 11:00 I'd hear about numerous accidents all over the city and outside of it.

I really want to go to DT's right now though, I want to get some of this school work done. I can't work at home. I'm not comfortable working here. I'm interrupted every five seconds and it's quite frustrating. "A Beautiful Mind" is playing behind me on the television, I'm interested but I'm not. I have a cigarette sitting beside me and I'm debating on whether or not I should go smoke it. I want to read, but I can't because I'd rather be doing my school work and if I read I'll feel as though I'm neglecting my school work. I can't read for more than ten minutes here anyways. I'm stuck in the house. Literally. I'm not allowed to go outside. I'm not even allowed to walk to DT's (I wouldn't, too far, too much snow).

And I'm all prettied up, and I have nowhere to go. What the hell? I always do this. I look good, and I stay home. Wow, what a way to uh, spend my time. It's not like I have anyone to impress, I just like going places... and I was all pumped for going to the diner tonight. This blows.

I feel so uninteresting and disgusting and worthless/pointless right now, have all day. I think it's more of the lack of something to do with myself that I've had today that's triggered it. Either way, I'm feeling it, and I keep pacing back and forth when I'm not sitting down. I hate not knowing what to do with myself.

1:31 AM  ()

(singin') followin' the snowplow home. airdrie, how i love thee.
SO... I ALMOST DIED TONIGHT.
Motherfuckers.
And to the dude who flew off the highway and into the ditch:
Good show, I liked the whole *POOF* with the snow you had going. That was fucking cool. You fucking dolt.

February 08, 2003
6:04 PM  ()

and this is what we do in airdrie...

11:42 AM  ()

waking up to a 248 number...
That was very strange. I remember having a "248" number way back in the day, now I have a number that I barely dial and when I do I end up calling "911" a lot and making a fool of myself. Anyways, it was weird because I woke up from a dream about Maddock Way (where I used to live and had that old number) and felt like I was back in that house when I woke up, and I knew no one that I did now. It was like I was 12 again, and I was waiting for Melissa and Mike to get a hold of me to let me know if Josh was still thinking of cheating on me. That was really weird. And then everything came rushing back to me after I answered the phone and nobody replied and hung up, and having everything rush back to like that is quite uncomforting. You feel like running around the house to find and say "Holy shit, Hi!" to every person you have ever met. But of course they're not all in your house.

Rob bought me a pretty funky CD yesterday, which was very random and nice of him. Old punk rock, which I haven't listened to in ages, so that was entertaining. I just woke up. It's 11:40 AM. I believe that is sleeping in for me. Holy shit. And I slept on the couch, so my back feels like it's still bent in all sorts of uncomfortable ways from sleeping. Anyways, disgusting taste in mouth, time to brush teeth. I think I'm dying.

12:18 AM  ()

quite impressed with these two for some reason...
I bet the boys wish they could have these hot Russian girls. Too bad, 'n shit. I'm just really impressed with the video they have out, "All the things she said". Anime, indeed.

February 07, 2003
10:36 PM  ()

adam wants me to go to the peace rally.
My Mom asked me if I knew what a "bong" was, tonight. I laughed, and said:

No.

And she told me what it was.

February 06, 2003
11:08 PM  ()

reading what we wrote so long ago, and
quite happy i wrote telephone numbers all over it.
I think that was the most frustrating time I have ever had looking for a telephone number. I lose his number every single time, but I found it. I fucking found it. Anyway... busy weekend.
Friday: wake up at 9am, get ready, leave here by noon. 1:30 assessment starts, 3:30-4:00 assessment ends. must call Rob and make sure we're still doing something, hopefully I can get a hold of him. That boy disappears and appears so randomly in my life, and we're absolutely horrible with each other when it's time to do something together. We make plans, and we make plans, and we make more plans and they never follow through. We're horrible. We're absolutely horrible. So, hopefully I'll end up with him and I'll wish him a happy belated birthday (seeing as it's today) and then we shall imerge ourselves into deep conversation about what we've been up to lately. I'd like to hear more about his hitch-hiking trip this summer. I don't want to just spend a few hours with him, I'd like to spend the whole evening with him, and depending on the weather or whatever conditions (or even if we just don't want to shut the hell up) I may have to spend the night in Calgary. That all depends though, of course.
Saturday: I'm supposed to be going to Olds for some show (Deville & others), but I'm mainly going to see Kyle Knapp. I haven't seen him in ages. I'd also like to do some catching up with that kid, and depending on what the circumstances are after the show, I may or may not spend the night in that small town. I'm not too sure about that one yet.
Sunday: Either a) coming home from Olds, or b) sleeping in until late afternoon if I can and then... well, I'd like to get a lot of my school work done. So, I'll most likely be at the diner all day reading up and working on Personal Psychology. Exciting. Actually, it is. I'm pumped for that. Sunday night will be a night for me to relax, catch my breath. I haven't stopped all week. This week has been an ongoing stream of everything. And I'm happy, over top of it all. And I like that feeling. I don't think I've ever been exhausted and happy at the same time. No, I haven't been.
Monday: I think this is when I can start settling down. I go back into Calgary probably for around the same time the usual assessment started (1:30pm) or whenever I'm scheduled to go in. They're doing the individual assessment that day. I think this is the day they let us know what the hell is going on. I honestly don't think the other applicant stands a chance, she hasn't been showing up for these ridiculous classes and I went to school with her a couple years ago. She hasn't changed. She shows interest in nothing. Her problem I suppose. But that doesn't guarantee me the job. So, keep crossing your fingers. After that I'd like to hook up with my two girls and hang out in Kensington for a while. Kyla and myself will pig out on Lido's Ginger Beef and strawberry (my choice) or chocolate (Kyla's choice) milkshakes. I'm not sure if Lauryn will be down with the meat thing, but I know she'll get herself something appetizing. And then there's the cigarettes. Something us three always have in common at a diner table. Jesus christ. Nothing but good conversation, insane amounts of coffee, and cigarette smoke. Oh baby, oh baby. Fucking fabulous. We're disgusting and girly, I love it.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, etc: I'm not sure yet. I'm sure another wild ride is coming up soon, though. Oh man. Clifford said I was hard to get a hold of lately. It's true. I'm sorry. I'm sure it'll calm down soon. I'm not supposed to be this busy, ever. It's not right. I'm supposed to have no life. What the hell is going on?

Today was spent quite well.
I enjoyed today a lot.
Assessment. Coffee with Neil and Azriel. Crowded train ride back to the car which I left at Sunridge Mall. I love that train ride. Where everyone's crammed into the train like fucking sardines and it's mainly happy-to-get-out-of-work-for-the-night older men that all look like my Dad (if they didn't look like my Dad, I would be extremely terrified of every single one of them). We all crack jokes, smile and laugh, and catch one another before we fall. It's quite hilarious. You can tell they're off to go home to their families, have a good dinner, and find out how their child's school work is coming along. I like thinking of that. Kind of scares me too, though.
Anyways, made my way off the train, met up with my parents at Costco where they put the groceries in the trunk of the car I was driving. I then followed them to Swiss Chalet, ate with them, stole the dog who was sitting in my Dad's car whining to no end, and drove home. Yes, I left them there. I always do. I'm nice like that. So, I drove home with the dog on my lap, the radio playing horrible music that I didn't really mind at the time, and with the windows down. Started the end of the evening with a great conversation with the one who has my heart, and a visit from Meagan. We ended up at DT's (of course) where Heather and the other two were playing cards. We played "Asshole" for about an hour or so and then went home. Now, I'm here. I wonder who'll actually read all that bullshit.

I think it's movie time or something. I haven't gave my mind a break in a while. I'll go do that. My back hurts, a lot. I really want to take a bath or something, I need to relax... but bath's are impossible for me to take. I waste water. I run the water extremely hot, wait for it to cool a little, jump in... and then I get bored. I'm out of there by, maximum, ten minutes. Sigh. Movie it is.

1:15 AM  ()

and the sounds are sparklin'.
It first started out with my disappointment with him not having any cigarettes, and vice versa. So that resulted in my happy-drunk Father telling me to drive him up to the Macs store down the road with him to buy a pack. He bought two. Bensen & Hedges 100's regular, and Players Light. My brand, and his. That was unexpected. My Dad never buys me cigarettes. We got out of the car and as we lit our cigarettes we lit up a conversation, or he did. He had some things he wanted to say.

It started out with him telling me I'll most likely have a car for the summer, before my birthday even. And I have the choice to drive that out to Toronto (which he doesn't really feel safe with, because as he said, "you're still a little tot to me, you're not supposed to be making these decisions yet, you're still five years old") or selling the car and making a bit more cash to go out there with. "It'll benefit you either way, and that's what I like about the idea." Well, thank you, Dad. I like that idea, too. "But you have to understand, I am so worried about your Mother. She's a strong woman, Heather. I wish I had her strength. I want to live life with her and we're getting rid of the business and we're going to live life. It's going to be first time since I was 16 years old that I can sit back and say 'I'm bored, I have nothing to do or think about', and I can't wait for it. Heather, I love you. You, and the boys, are my life." And he went on about nice things all scattered for a long while, we both smoked too many cigarettes, I lost count. It was really... really nice. It then progressed into the sex talk his father gave him, "don't toast your brick until it's burnt", meaning don't get yourself into trouble. That was it. I laughed. And then he continued to tell me that if I ever had a problem that they were there for me always, and he was thinking about moving out to Toronto with me but he decided against it because he's too old and it wouldn't do me any good. And then the conversation became even more humorous. He implied that if I ever got myself pregnant and the guy leaves me that him and my Mother will be there for me. And not to think like they did, don't ever think I can't talk to anyone. I laughed at him again, and then he laughed. Laughing with my Dad is quite an experience, it doesn't happen to often. He held my hands in his, it reminded me of when I was a child. My tiny hands, his huge aggressively powerful hands in such a gentle moment. "I support you, and I know you know I don't want you leaving, but I know you're going to. But I need your help first, we need to get your Mum's mind up there. She needs to think about the future, she needs to know that it's going to be good times. We have to show this to her somehow. And I'm so glad Clifford's coming out here to visit you." And then he went back to babbling about my leaving and how much he loves me. So all over the place, but so meaningful at the same time.

And as I was typing this he came back downstairs to give me a hug, and handed me the money in order to pay back Meagan right away. "I know you can do it, and I know you will pay her back, and all that jazz. But, I don't want you thinking you can't have the help from us, keep this between you and me." I'll pay you back, Dad. "I know you will, but keep this between you and me." What a crazy night. It's now ten minutes past 1:00 in the morning, I'm tired, I'm a little overwhelmed, and I'm a little hyper off of the major amount of Coca-cola I just drank. What else. Oh yeah, I'm being utterly confused by a person who keeps instant messaging me and it's quite amusing. Saying things like, "what the fuck? who is this to appear before my chestnut table? command your words to work." I asked if he/she made sense often. They reply with: I make sense like you for breakfast. Heather, heather. Do I know you? Hmm. Push up gummy glasses, and spoonfeed pudding moustaches.

My brain is about to explode. Too much excitement for one night.

February 05, 2003
8:08 PM  ()

strange daze/days.
This morning was weird.
This afternoon was ridiculous.
This evening was also ridiculous.
And as for the rest of it, most likely just the same.

Haloscan needs to be shot.

February 04, 2003
6:56 PM  ()

"peace will come suddenly,
we won't understand when it does--see, man?"
Note: Being alone at DT's diner has a different surprise for me each time. I write something different, people and all sorts of things have a different effect on me. It's always so interesting. But of course, I'm a huge nerd, and when I'm alone there I'm either doing schoolwork, reading, or writing on fancy paper with a chewed up pen. I started to write a regular journal entry and I ended up writing something totally different. It works that way, I suppose. I'll start trying to write something intelligent, and I end up writing something about my hair. Today was different; I started with something about my hair and ended up with something deep and somewhat intelligent. And seeing as I haven't been writing very well lately on here, I figured I'd share parts of this with you, and myself.

... There's a right time for everything, you know? If I had shown up any earlier I am quite positive he would have pushed me away and we wouldn't have the still growing connection that we have between us. Any later, and I have no idea. I wonder if I could have been anyone. For the beginning, most likely. But now? I doubt it...

... People have been talking and writing since the beginning of time of that "transformation", and how much more everything means and matters (about life/existence and the world) afterwards. When "two become one" and all the possibilities that are seen and presented so much more clearly. And the overwhelming experience of being able to see through someone else's eyes. I never thought it was possible, or that it would happen to me. I always figured it was pure idiocy to even think such a thing was possible mainly because I figured life was simple/black & white, and I was in love with that. I figured that was all we had and it was all we would ever have. And the negativity of that interested me; it was beautiful because I thought it was supposed to be. So, that was me. In love with simplicity. I thought it was so incredibly romantic and disgusting at the same time. I'd walk by a pretty couple and all I could see was their lustful aura. Love didn't exist to me. I'd walk past a drunken, obviously struggling, old man and he'd be singing. I'd think, "he's got the idea, he knows how everything works." I figured if him and I sat down to talk, we'd understand each other completely. He'd tell me exactly what I thought of the world was true. Humans are animals, I thought. We're born, we eat, we breed, and we die. That was it. It revolted me, I was utterly disgusted because that meant that everything I had ever felt, every experience and word I had written down didn't mean anything. Nothing, and I figured none of it ever would. And I believed all of that up until that night; that kiss. It threw everything out of perspective, I thought I had seen everything for what it was and that moment allowed me to see in colored light. I don't know about him, but that moment changed everything inside of me. The drunk and singing man that I'd pass would tell me these things if I sat him down, he'd tell me my previous perspective of the world was all wrong. Now, the man told me I'd find all my answers on "page forty" of that book that didn't exist, and I told him it wasn't possible. I got angry and called him a liar. To me, this man in my dream was insane. He obviously was hanging on to something that wasn't there; that was never there. His imagination had got the best of him, I thought, and I shot down his belief and his heart by telling him answers like that, ones I seek just as he did, could not be found on pages in a book. But now, I feel he's right. I know he's right. Stories are everything, and those who wrote about that transformation were not mentally demented. They wrote and spoke the truth. They defined it all for me, and they told me it would happen. Hell, my Mother even told me it would happen and I laughed at her for it. And it's now happened, she's waving her fingers at me in that I-told-you-so kind of manner, and I am so unbelievably grateful for it. I'd be a complete narrow-minded lunatic if it weren't for this boy, this man. Scientifically, the best chemical reaction anyone would ever experience within him/herself. The taste of that kiss will never be forgotten; it's that taste that I crave. His, and mine, what we created. Better than any relaxant, painkiller, or mind altering drug known to mankind. And to know that I'll only ever experience that with him. That feeling, that everything. It's so overwhelming. One person. Out of billions! Just one! And the fact that it wasn't just a lustful procedure; it wasn't even that. Passionate, desirable, perfect, and just at the right time. "Desire" and "lust" are two completely different feelings, and one who hasn't allowed themselves to experience such will not agree with that. I didn't. In the past I would have burst out laughing in disgust if I had read that, and I did many times. Those who wrote about it spoke the truth, and so do I. So fantastic. So pretty. Just being close to this person allows me to be comfortable with myself and my surroundings (which is quite rare), just like a child when they're watching all those images of their favorite movie scroll by on the television screen. It can play out over and over and over again and it's always just like the first time. You can't get over that, at least I can't. Even now I'm still learning new ideas, experiencing new feelings. I can't get enough of it. As cliché as this is, it's like I've opened my eyes for the very first time. I no longer see just black & white (although it makes for such an awesome photograph) and I'm being exposed to so much more light that I never could have imagined even existed.

So, as I smoke this last cigarette and drink this last cup of coffee for the night, I will bring this to a close as Neil Young plays over the speakers.

"Old man, look at my life."
Dear mysterious man who told me where to find the answers I seek to the questions I had continuously asked of existence, I now have the chance to show my appreciation for randomly appearing in such a strange dream and sharing your words with me.
Thank you, thank you so much.

"Old man, look at my life, I'm a lot like you were."

(Like I said, there's a right time for everything.)

10:00 AM  ()

the whole world was crazy and cock-eyed
and extremely strange.
And she sits still begging with her legs curled up close and not saying so much, just breathing, and making what she wants from me nothing else but obvious. So, I continue on reading the "I secretly have a crush on you," and, "I like the mysterious pictures," instant messages I recieved on indecline weeks ago but haven't checked. I most particularily enjoyed the second message, where they asked me if Clifford was a boy or a cat. I was confused as to how he knew who Clifford was, my links and everything are all different on that profile, but alas... Clifford is mentioned in my profile as an object I would bring with me if I was stranded on an island. That makes me laugh.

I'll be leaving here at noon, I'm assuming, to head off to this assessment. The only thing I'm excited about is going downtown Calgary, taking the C-train and hanging outside of high-rises by myself. I'm not too excited about the actual assessment, overall it sounds quite ridiculous. But, if it'll help me get the job, I shall go and get it over with.

And I find this incredibly funny. Courtney, you dolt.

February 03, 2003
9:30 PM  ()

they wanted some of my sandwhiches. i told them no.
"It's gettin' way too easy for me and you to do what we want." - the posies. I haven't listened to them in quite a while. I have to admit I missed them, again. And I also must say that I am quite a happy girl. Although things have been hectic and may get a little more hectic on the other side, it's happening. A month away. A month away. I can't believe it. We are always so spontaneous in our decisions, I wonder if we'll always be like that. It's fun, and exciting. I'd like to be fun and exciting for a fairly large portion of my existance, that would be nice.

Meagan's let me borrow a book by Burroughs, I'm quite pumped about reading it. I want to finish this Margaret Atwood (Lauryn says "Ew!) book before I start on that, though. I'm starting to like my room again, but only because of one thing. It smells of incense, and it's rockin'. Reminds me so much of him, and all sorts of good times and good people. And my clothes are starting to reak of the smoke that it provides, and that is also quite awesome. Other than that, I'm still pretty uncomfortable in there.

My Mother said the sweetest thing to Clifford today. Something along the lines of us wanting to be together is all that matters to her, and our happiness. That's so fucking cool. And now I'm listening to Radiohead and being reminded of earlier days when I'd think, "I wonder if I'll ever meet this boy." Ha. Wow, just wow. So amazed. So amazing. So excited. Words aren't even enough. Are they ever?

12:08 PM  ()

story is our wall against the dark.

February 02, 2003
10:26 PM  ()

and we seek the tenderness.
Meagan, again, is the most generous person in the world.
Just got back from a car ride consisting of 3 cigarettes, a trip to the grocery store for a can of tomatoes, and a trip to a house just for a laugh. Kyle and I always do the most random things after nine o'clock at night. I remember when he used to come over around midnight or 1 in the morning just to mock whatever's on late night television and crack jokes at one another. He's weird. I remember when he dated Lana, back in Grade 8. That was quite humorous. And quite revolting. The worst couple ever.

I'm a happy girl. Although tonight's been pretty hectic and I've been told numerous times that I'm nothing like Yoko Ono, it's been good. Meagan and I have been to the diner twice today.

Mom said I looked really pale today, I wonder why. Had a pretty bad day with her until everything was sorted out. That wasn't too much fun. Her operation's coming up next weekend, I believe. She's nervous, we all are. "I'm having my chest bone cut right open," she says as though she's alright with it. Good lord. My poor Mom. Sigh. I really feel like writing with my typewriter. Either that or lighting some of that incense and watching a movie before I turn in for the night. I started some of my Personal Pysch. course this afternoon, I was interupted by a phone call. I'll throw myself back into that tomorrow morning. It's quite interesting. I'm excited to get further into these courses. And it's so much better doing it on my own. All I need is a highlighter, a pen, and the assignment booklet. I'm all set. Tuesday shall be interesting, I start that one week Assessment with the YMCA. Interesting, indeed. I need this job. Or something neat like it.

4:55 PM  ()

rockin'.
Meagan is the coolest girl ever. I love her. A lot. And my soul is hers until I pay her back. I will clean her room, paint her shelves, put away her socks and dust her entire house and sweep the driveway 5 times a day. I am hers. That is... if we get to the airport tomorrow before 10pm to pay the five hundred and some dollars to get this flight ticket, and if Clifford's still... planning... on coming. I hope so. He called earlier so I'm hoping there's no problem. Hm. I really hope not. I wonder if they'll call his house. Hmm... "Hello, someone in your household has a flight booked for blah blah blah blah....."
".......WHHHAAAATTT?!??!!?!"

Heh.
I love Meagan. She owns my soul. She has the power. I'll lick the dirt off the bottom of her shoes if she asks me to. Oh my god. What a wonderful girl. Everyone leave a comment on how wonderful Meagan is. I'm going to leave four.

12:55 PM  ()

selfish & ugly.
selfish &ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish and ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish &ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish and ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish &ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish and ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish &ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish and ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish &ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish and ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish &ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish and ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish &ugly. selfish & ugly. selfish and ugly. selfish & ugly. ..................................

11:26 AM  ()

she doesn't know what's wrong with me.
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU ANYMORE." First off, I didn't know there was something that wrong with me before that you knew about. Second, what the hell? This house. This fucking house. There's something wrong with this house, that's what's going on. It's cursed or something. Nothing but yelling and screaming and anger resides in this fucking house. Yesterday I had a door slammed on me, today my Mom decides it's a great day to scream nonsensical things at me and at the most random moments. Do I really do this to them? I don't understand. I haven't been here since 4:00 yesterday afternoon. I can't fucking live in this house for very much longer. I won't be. Holy shit. I suddenly want something very bad to happen, but then I take that back. My parents are fucking whackos. My brain hurts even more. I look like shit. I feel like shit. So, I think I'm going to leave or something.

February 01, 2003
10:50 AM  ()

impossible to get a hold of.
Scott is impossible to get a hold of. I haven't talked to my best friend in over a month and I only saw him once while I was down there in Ontario. God damnit, that boy is a busy one. I'm going to keep calling all morning until I get a hold of him, and then... I'll most likely find out he's not home. And then I'll have a shower. And then I'll get ready for my duties for the night. I have to babysit. That's right girls. Babysit. I'm babysitting for my neices, and I have to do it for free. It's my sister-in-law's birthday today and I'll feel like a bastard if I charge them. I don't know, it depends. If they both get drunk, I charge, if Jason (brother) just gets drunk, I don't charge. I won't be able to smoke all night (seeing as I refuse to smoke around younger children), so that'll be good. Lauryn will be just down the street, that is if she's got a lazy day and is home tonight. I'd like to see her. I believe I'll have the car. I don't know where I'm sleeping tonight. I don't know what's going on. I slept all day, pretty much, yesterday. I'll be up all night.

Incense burning all night until I fell asleep last night in my room. Reminded me of laying on the bed that was on the floor, and watching television, and wanting so badly to fall asleep next to him. And it also reminded me of sitting in Brock's apartment, and that old green beer bottle holding the window open. I was quite tempted to smoke cigarettes inside, because I was watching "Reality Bites" on the family channel and damn do they ever smoke a lot. I was cold, and didn't want to get up. But I managed to control myself. I didn't smoke in the house. It would have been kind of neat though, I would have been the first to do so.

Today, today. What shall I do on this today. I want this today to be much different than yesterday's today. I could go to the diner again, and flip out some more at my book. I do need to make a few phone calls. Screw it, I'll be spontaneous today until 4:30 this afternoon when I have to leave in order to go babysit the girls. 'Kenzie, I really don't want to change your sisters diaper if she still wears them. You're old enough. You should do that. I'll give you a dollar every time you do it. (Yeah right, a penny maybe. I know, I'll give her a cookie... that spoiled brat. Ha. I love them.)