10:24 PM  ()

Sunny Day Real Estate, "Television" // I'm a little shakey due to too much coffee (not surprising, I know). Wanted to go check out 17th Ave. just to see what was new. I also wanted to check out the prices for this nipple piercing I will be getting within the next week (after Monday) at Divine, To the Point, & Adorned. Divine was open. To the Point has disappeared. That part of the building is now for lease. And Adorned was closed by the time we got there. I'll have to go again some other time throughout the week, before 6:00. I took a ride down memory lane earlier on just as we were leaving 17th Avenue in Calgary. Past the Multicultural Centre, our old venue that every single show was held at. I really missed it, as did Heather. I also had a bit of nostalgia run through me yesterday as I dropped Kyla and her friend off at the Where Once Was Hope show at Bridgeland Community Centre. I saw a few faces that I missed, brought back good times. Kevin hasn't changed too much since I last saw him, nor has Andrew (he reminded me of the days when Jamie lived in the apartment and many hilarious events occured). Ah, so many faces. I kind of wanted to stay, but I also didn't. There are a lot of bad memories from those times as well. Plus, shows are just ridiculous (based on the last few I've been to) now. I wouldn't have minded seeing Where Once Was Hope, though. Ah, well. Some other time. When I have time. When I feel like it. I'm pretty excited for the summer now. Walking down 17th and being asked for cigarettes and just passing all sorts of people was great. I missed that. I need a new pair of shoes. I also need to buy those shoes for this graduation I'm attending. It'll be good to see the people I went to school with, I guess. It's going to be weird. You know, attending what was supposed to be my own graduation and isn't now. Very strange. Oh well, I'll be wearing a black dress and I'll blow them all away. I think many people will be surprised, seeing me in something like that. It's not expected of me. I guess Denise Fhugard was talking to Heather and a few of those kids at school recently about me, and all the "stages" I've been through. I really have been through a lot of fashion "stages". Grade 9 I was considered a goth/grunge girl to many people. Grade 10 & 11 I was a punk rocker. Wrist socks & all, fish net stockings and quite obvious ratty clothing bought from vintage stores. Grade 8 and after Grade 11 I started shopping in skate stores, I became one of those poser skater girls that owned a skateboard and knew how to ride it but doesn't do any tricks. And now I'm really quite prissy. I'm very picky and "indie rock" when I'm dressing up to go out. But otherwise, I'm a huge lazy ass. Interesting. I babble a little too much, I think.

So, everyone's likin' the new layout, hmm? I like that. I like the picture of the boy on the side, he's pretty hot in person. I'd do him. Haha. I'm a funny girl.

2:50 PM  ()

Alright, let's just get straight down to it. What the hell is wrong with some of these kids today? These 13-15 year olds, these 16 year olds, these ridiculous teenagers of our day and age. Everything's a god damn competition, and what's the most popular? I'll tell you the most popular. The "WHO'S LIFE SUCKS MORE?" Competition. It makes me fucking sick, you know that? Sick. So sick. And they say things so blatently, like there's more happening to them than there is to a dying infant. Tragedy is everywhere. Pain is pain. The fact that more depressing events has happened to one person doesn't mean that another person isn't depressed or down about something. When a mind hits rock bottom, it hits rock bottom. There's nothing else to it. The pain felt by that person is the same pain felt by another person who has also had a low blow to their esteem. Come on. This is driving me nuts. I write about the sad things in my life but only because I feel that they need to be written about. I don't use them as weapons. I don't scream out and say "HEY, SEE, I HAVE PROOF THIS HAPPENED TO ME AND YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT ABOUT BEING SAD!! FUCKAS!" I'm not an idiot like that. But there are so many of them. What's going on? This is gross. I'm flipping out over it. I'm ready to pull out my hair. So stupid. Stupid fucking kids. Ah, and when they talk about anti-depressants. The fact that anyone is or was on anti-depressants, any kind, is saddening. It's not the greatest feeling. No matter the dosage or the power of whatever you're taking. I can't stand it when a young girl (this is where I've run into it the most, with girls) says that her medication is stronger so her illness must be the worst. THAT'S INSANE. It's a huge war on who can be the saddest. Attention-seekers? Not always. It's just what I said it was, a big war. Girls are always in competition, but I've seen it with boys as well. I just can't get over it. How... just.. and why? Oh, I'm not even going to tackle it anymore.

1:34 PM  ()

I slept in until 1:15. One can only wonder why especially when it's pretty hard for me to sleep in unless I stay up until all hours of the morning. And, of course, that's what I did. I was up until 5:30 this morning, and the last hour was spent writing about the experience I had just had.

Slightly intoxicated, just enough for my fingers to go numb and all my thoughts to be nothing but content. I sent quite a few smiles into last night, and whispers about how I really can't wait to leave this place behind. "The gate was open, anyone could have joined her. It was that simple. And she would apologize if you had, because every time she blew smoke in a particular direction she could swear she saw him walking toward her. Past the face, yeah, just over there. Can you see it, too? She'd apologize because that meant so much more." There was such a magnificent fog last night around 3 until 4:30, thicker than what we had drove through on the way home from the theatre last night. To my right, I had a gate that was open, and the thought of just leaving for an hour or two came across my mind. But I couldn't leave, the scenary and the dark colours I had before me was just fucking gorgeous. That I will miss. I will miss these cold nights that prove to me they have beauty. There's not much more I can say.

2:09 AM  ()

a note to ali: the picture off to the side was most definitely taken by you and I've modified it. I hope that's alright. If you want me to give you credit for the image somewhere, just let me know.

Went to see "Phone Booth" tonight. All I really have to say about that movie is it was strange and it consisted of very bad humor. Keifer Sutherland has such a cool voice, though. I was trying to remember what movie Adam and I used to watch all the time with him in it and I couldn't think of it while I was talking about it but I just remembered the title of the movie. "Dark City". Cheesy movie, great to fall asleep to, but also interesting if you want to watch it. But, keep in mind, I have a great appreciation for cheesy movies. So, even if I say a movie is overly hilarious and great (unless it's been recommended by somebody else) it may just be the worst movie you've ever seen. I tend to like getting a kick out of what I'm watching, even when it's more than pathetic. What did "Phone Booth" teach Heather? This film taught me that if you cheat on your wife you could very well get yourself trapped in a telephone booth in New York that's been tapped for months and end up talking to a man on the other end who's hiding and aiming a sniper rifle at you from a window. He wants to punish you for your sins. I shudder at the thought. Just can't be havin' that. Boys & girls, no cheating allowed. Keifer Sutherland will be after you. (Am I the only one that finds him attractive when he was younger? I think I might be.)

The electric fire down here in the basement is finally working, I'm no longer puttering about around here in freezing temperatures. Oh, yeah, and I forgot to let you know I saw that Ikea lamp commercial. Too hilarious. "Do you feel sorry for this lamp?" And I guess I'll apologize to nothing here because I just should.

Modest Mouse is coming to town within the next month or so. I said I was going to go, but I'm ditching out. If I'm not working that night I've got someone better to spend my time with. Right, Kyla? We'll finally go egg city hall or something, without any interuptions or having to pay for a jello we never ordered. None of that. We won't put up with that. Our phrase that night will be, "we don't need your shit". Yeah, yeah. It'll be fun. Snobs. Totally. We'll be complete snobs that night. Now, let's cross our fingers and hope that I don't work that night (preferrably the morning).

April 29, 2003
10:58 AM  ()

Last night, I heard that "Mistake" song by Serial Joe and burst out laughing because I thought of Mary right away and her having to meet the drunk bastard lead singer at a party and dealing with his "tough antics". Yeah, he wasn't spectacular, he only thought he was. Sexist freak. Haha. Oh, man. It was about 4:00 in the morning and I'm just sitting there laughing so loud. My Dad's probably even more pissed with me now because I woke him up in the middle of the night and he probably thinks I was talking to someone on the phone. I don't know what's wrong with him. He's just insane lately. There's nothing I can do. He's blaming me for everything that's going wrong and he's losing it every other five seconds. Just insane. That's all there is to it.

Wow, the sun's out today. Maybe that'll get rid of some of this snow. I might go to a movie with Jeff tonight when I get home from Calgary seeing as I don't have to work tomorrow. It was nice to invite me along, I'll have to see what's going on with my Mom first though, apparently she needs me around at some point to do some stuff. I have many things I need to do today, and then at 4:00 I have a meeting to tend to. It's secret. I can't tell anyone about it until afterwards. I get to talk about a beverage. So great.

I wrote part of your letter last night. I wrote non-stop for a good hour and 17 minutes. My wrist kills. I love it.

12:43 AM  ()

There are no more secrets anymore.

April 28, 2003
5:04 PM  ()

No time. Lots of time. My head hurts. Picked up paycheque today. Amount of money to my name rises. Hurrah. Not working again until Thursday. That kind of sucks. But I suppose it's good because I can get everything I need to get done around here (at the house) with no interuptions. Yes, that's very good. Looking very lazy again today, my hair's not done properly and my jeans aren't clean. I'm thinking it's another laundry night. I wish I could go to a laundromat. You know how everyone meets interesting people at laundromats in movies? Yeah, something like that. That would neat. That would make my evening. But, in this town, the laundromat is a joke and barely anyone goes there but the ones who do are usually drunk and/or looking for a place to get warm. The machines look as though they're about to explode into millions of tiny pieces. I remember having to go to that place when we first moved here and our house wasn't ready. They put us in a small house on the other side of town (surrounded by trailers) with a cemetary for a back yard (now the cemetary that Roger is buried in, I should go visit soon). I suppose it was interesting, and good because it was so close to the town swimming pool, but damn was it ever dirty when we first stepped into it. I actually liked that house once we cleaned it up. I miss my old house even more. Now, you want to know about an awesome house? That was an awesome house. Ha. And John's (next door neighbor and friend for years that just disappeared one summer when I went to England) Dad would pour out an ice-rink every winter... ah, okay. I'm done. It was a great neighborhood until us kids starting growing up and discovering that violence was just the way it went. And it's not, but at the time it was because we didn't know any better. Although this may not count as much, but for the time that I was there: I was in 2 fights, I was threatened to be killed by 3 different girls, 2 sisters, and 1 mother. I had a b-b gun held to my head when I was 10 years old by a 16 year old brother of a friend at the time, and a knife pulled on me by a boyfriend of my babysitter when I was six or seven. Parent's only knew about the b-b gun, the threats, and me being chased around the school by some girl who just went insane on me. Vanda was her name. What a creepy name. Haha. What a stupid childhood. Ah, John made it better while he was there, as did Cassandra, I guess. Ha, grade 3... was hilarious. I had no friends, I befriended Cassandra because she passed gas in class and everyone was making fun of her. I felt sorry for her and invited her over for lunch. (Insert roaring laughter here. HAHAHAHA.) She's sick in the head, now more so than ever. No wonder I never kept any friends. They were all fucked up. Even when I moved here. What was wrong with me? My god. So lame sometimes. Ah, memories. :)

April 27, 2003
9:09 PM  ()

Well, Scott Brodie's e-mail address no longer exists. The only way anyone answers my telephone calls at his house is if I block my number. He's never there. Wow, I don't even know who my best ^close friend is anymore. This is fucking depressing.

realization: He's a close friend, not my best friend. The best friend is the one who's immediate, there always, continuous and well, the best in that current point in your life. The fact that I don't know Scott anymore kind of pulls him away from that title, he's not replaced or anything, he will always be held close to my heart. But it wasn't even myself who made me realize this, it was my parents. My best friend is my lover and the one who I confide in the most. I already knew that, but I suppose I was just trying to hang on to Scott, the boy I knew from grade 8, the guy I became so close with during the 3 months of our living in the same town and knowing of each other. The boy who lifted me up from my suicidal tendencies and made me smarten up. I'm hanging on to someone I don't know anymore. I wrote him a letter tonight, I'm going to send it on Tuesday morning. It's my last attempt to contact him for a while. If I don't get some form of a reply I'll finally take the hint and just give him a call when I'm out there and see if he wants to go for dinner. I guess we're turning into what he said we would before he left. "I probably won't even remember you guys next year." Well, I figured we'd held on for this long (4 years, or is it 5? I can't remember... many) and now we're starting to drift. I guess it's unavoidable. Age does that, I suppose. Sad, but I'll never get rid of the photographs. I promise.

8:55 PM  ()

You don't say much anymore. It's almost like I'm doing something wrong, but nothing's wrong. And cigarettes are just appearing like magic in the garage. I know they belong to him. I don't touch them, I simply pass them and kind of wonder what's going on but I don't really need to. I know exactly what's going on.

The word "chemotherapy" came up yesterday while her eyes were dancing for the morning, and my concentration was sent straight to the word. She says if she does end up needing to, she wants to buy a wig. She said it'll be fun. This doesn't bother me, it's just that it's so strange. I never thought that "my Mother" and "chemotherapy" could ever fit into the same sentence. It could happen to anyone, as we all say. It shouldn't have to happen to anyone at all, but there's no avoiding it I suppose. Tragedy submerges itself into all our lives at somepoint, some more than others. But as does happiness and purity and the like. So, I suppose, it sort of balances out in the end.

I'm filled with so much angst right now. I am not a happy girl. And it's not just because of the subject above, actually, it's not that at all. I'm just so angry. Angry with the way he's treating me lately, angry with how he's just so aggressive with words when I'm around and how they're usually directed at me. I don't know what I've done wrong, or what I'm doing wrong. Everything's so strange. I feel like I'm just sort of drifting along, waiting for that damn flight home. I've been ignoring myself for a couple of weeks now and I think it's all catching up to me. I want to stay in my room all night, but I can't. My parents want me to spend the evening with them, scruff and all. I look very grungey today, even though I've showered. My clothes are just randomly chosen from my bedroom floor, and I'm wearing about three shirts. It's sovery cold in my basement. The heat's not working down here because of all those power-outs we had yesterday. I thought it was pretty neat, I wish it could have lasted all night. I love candle light. I love not hearing the hum of electricity flowing through almost every object in the house. VCR's, televisions, the computers, the furnace, the lights... just quiet. It was great, despite the temperature drop.

I have so much to say to you that I just can't get out. So many wonderful things, so many. Spontaneous is the secret, but as you know I'm quite fearful of doing it that way. Fearful of it all coming out wrong, coming out strange and maybe just not making any sense at all. Either way, I have so much to say. And so much more.

Life's definitely a little less extraordinary tonight. My eyes are so dry, kind of like they're exhausted from trying to focus on something that just isn't there. As usual.

3:01 PM  ()

so tired. so everything. so. so. so cold. must shower. hair all over the place. curly. stupid. so stupid. missing the boys in ontario. missing the girls in ontario. missing the warm weather in ontario. missing the warm weather in alberta. angry with the snow. so angry. went to work for brunch. almost fell asleep in booth. wanting to fall asleep in this very chair. so tired. so everything. so. so. so cold. must shower.

April 26, 2003
12:31 PM  ()

I have my brother's business card. He gave it to me in order to keep in touch. I don't know what to think about that. He must think our brother-sister relationship is very formal. He's turning into Dad. Everything is a business proposition. His middle initial is "J". I don't even know what his middle name is. He's my half-brother. That doesn't justify a thing. They're all my half-brothers, but I've known them my entire life so I kind of forget about it. I refer to Mom as their Mother as well, and Dad as his Father, too. Two of them are the product of my Father's previous marraige, the other (the oldest) is the product of my Mother's previous marriage that didn't work out very well at all. I remember when I first met the man. Things have changed so much since then. But I don't really know him like my brother and Mom do. I haven't had to. I love them, I love all three of them. They're great, and they're weird. I love it. Ah, I love it all.

The weather just can't make up her mind. I'm snowed into my house. The back basement door opens outwards, we tried pushing the snow away that was against the door. This did not work. The front door opens inwards. I opened it and a pile of snow landed on my head and on the ground before I could close it again. I burst out laughing. My Dad (I feel weird referring to him as my "Father", although he is) walked out in his robe and burst out laughing as well, but also with a stern look on his face telling me to clean it up. I told him to ease up a little, and that it was funny. He says I might not be able to get to work. This is true. The end of April and we're snowed in. This frozen shower killed our flowers. Mother shall be devastated once this is all over with. She just planted all sorts of daisies for me. All different colours. The daisy is my favourite flower, and pretty much the only flower I appreciate and don't ignore. Did you know yellow flowers mark the end of an affair? There's yellow flowers on my computer desktop background for this Windows XP theme I'm using. I don't think they knew that. Some people say that yellow flowers represent friendship. Sure, that works, too.

9:56 AM  ()

I wonder what might happen if I just went to lay in the backyard...

9:47 AM  ()

There's something like a blizzard happening outside. I think I blame Dave for this because I think I talked to him last night and he asked about our weather, and I think I told him that it's been beautiful for the past week or so. Did I talk to Dave last night? My alarm clock was set for 1:00 a.m. for some reason, and then the power went out, so I was happy it shut the hell up. Why did I talk to Dave last night? Oh yeah, because he was ... WHAT? I am so confused. I talked to Clifford last night while he was at work. Oh, I don't remember all of this too well. I'm still tired. Wait, I remember being told I sounded hot. Ha, of course, I remember the ego-booster, who would have known?

This snow outside is quite revolting. It's... there's so much of it. Extremely windy. There's wet snow stuck to all the windows and you can barely see outside. Maybe I won't have to go to work today, or maybe it'll be nice and slow and I can... relax.

I met up with Brendan yesterday, he handed over the new .moneen. cd which I'm very thankful for. I haven't listened to it yet, but I will do that right away as soon as I hit the shower. I'm excited. What a great guy, and an interesting story as to how him and his girlfriend became to be. I like learning about people, I love it, actually.

April 25, 2003
11:31 AM  ()

I'm glad I had a little time to wake up before Brendan called the second time (my voice sounds absolutely frightening in the morning sometimes, it did on this particular morning), ha, I had a little time to get rid of the grogginess. I'm meeting up with him downtown today, I'm excited for it. It's raining outside and it's just fantastic. It's simply perfect. A warm grey, I like it. Everything's relaxing and interesting, everything's ready for this day. The only thing I am unhappy about is the simple knowledge that Clifford is upset. I never, never ever, thought I would see him write "fuck beauty fuck beauty fuck beauty fuck pretty fuck wonderful fuck alive." This is strange.

4:29 AM  ()

I pulled a bit of an old Heather tonight and for the past few hours Jeff Stewart has been laughing and making fun of my drunkenness as he drove me around and let me dance at the top of a hill to the new White Stripes song. I bought cigarettes and it was just great. I can't imagine how strange he must think I am, the amount of talking I did tonight was almost overwhelming. I've had a fantastic night. I really have. Thank you, Jeff. It's so close to being four thirty A.M. and now I'm off to bed. Spectacular. Excellent. Tubular. "Oldie Goldies." It was good to finally get to know you a little bit, Jeff, you're fun. I can't thank you enough for putting up with my ridiculousness tonight. I'm far more sober now since I was dropped off at my neighborhood corner than when I was picked up by you at the neighborhood convenience store. Ha, the laughs I've had tonight were great. I couldn't think of any possible better way of spending it. Thanks, again.

April 24, 2003
9:10 AM  ()

Okay! Let's forget about all that. Brain hurts. Dad thinks I'm insane. Mom's off at the hospital right now for her "post-op check up". The morning is innocent and slightly grey, but it's warm outside. I had to sit out there in my pajamas for at least five minutes. Refreshing. Neat.

8:39 AM  ()

Very First Dream: (Quite a ridiculous one I might add, but the only cool one I had all night.) In a mall. Clifford and I found this elevator type deal and it looked as though it was going pretty damn fast. All glass, shiney, pink and white. Neat. I wanted to get on this thing. It was lit up as though it was going to heaven. We get on the thing, a woman gets on with us, I'm starting to assume it's some ride because we're going up... up... up... past the Calgary tower. I say "whoa, how high does this thing go" and then everything's a spec on the ground and all of a sudden we're in space. Cliff says "what the fuck?" and the lady turns out to be an employee of NASA and she's... helping with this ride thing. She takes us back down to earth and I'm just fucking confused. We walk off and go somewhere else to think about what the fuck just happened.

First Dream: I went to a party, in my old neighborhood, and I can't really recall where I was. It was like being down by Ricky's and Drew's house. Walking around and finally we end up at somebody's house. I don't want to drink. I'm overly depressed and I don't want to talk, I don't want to feel intoxicated, nothing's worth anything by this point. A friend of mine is taking care of me for some reason, being overly nice, I tell him I'm uncomfortable with the way he's being. He asks if I want to wear his sweater just so he can pick it up the next day. I asked him why he wanted to see me so bad, he said that he was in love with me (which I found just ridiculous). I told him that I was sorry but I really must disregard what he just said to me because it really isn't worth telling me anything like that. I was laughing. First of all, he's treated me like shit in the past, he ignores me when he's upset with me for weeks on end, he gets jealous when I'm around one of my ex-boyfriends and gets snappy with us. Second of all, he ruined the trust I had in him as a friend almost a year ago when he chose sex over me (I guess I just wasn't showing any signs, I'm always more interested in having an interesting friendship than having a relationship) and what I offered, I guess it just wasn't enough. I thought late night conversations were cool, getting drunk over the phone together, sharing cigarettes on the driveway at 2:00 in the morning was just awesome. This person is real, by the way. I held him close to my heart once, and now I just can't figure him out and I almost don't care. I missed what we had, but we never had what he wanted us to have. Third, and last and most of all, I am more than devoted to a boy already and I don't plan on fucking it up. He sighed, hugged me (as I looked off at the ceiling with a strange confused expression on my face), got up and left. I had his sweater. I left it at the party, I walked home because I was fed up the noise. I had already forgotten about this boy and his confession. I was far too involved with my own emotions than to think about his.

(Woke up. Couldn't get comfortable. I was wrapped uncomfortable in the blankets, and the pillows were like rocks behind my head. I pushed them all off. Finally got myself comfortable again.)

Second dream: I was waiting for a phone call from Clifford, my Dad told me he had been calling all night. I was wrapped in a purple feather blanket and everyone was pissed off with me. It was a summer evening, I had just got home from work, I was depressed and I was upset. My Mom was fine, nothing was ever wrong, and she kept yelling at me. I was in trouble for something. Clifford finally called and it was hard to have a conversation with him due to my parents and whoever they had over making so much noise. I put the phone down to ask him to tone it down, they did for a few minutes and during that few minutes I picked up my guitar totally forgetting that Cliff was waiting for me to pick the phone up again that I had left on my bed. I played for a minute or so, picked up the phone and apologized profusely to him for forgetting about him. He said the way I played guitar was so "moody". I wandered out into the backyard, laid on the grass and listened to him sing to me and all of a sudden I hear this loud boom and then Bob Marley was screaming at the world from inside my house. My parents had just got a new stereo, some strange man was helping my Dad set it up as I walked in the house (leaving the phone on the ground outside). I screamed at the top of my lungs and my Mom looked at me from through the glass that you can see into the basement from upstairs and she just sang. I was so annoyed. I wanted to sing along but I couldn't because I was so frustrated and angry with her. She mouthed (or maybe screamed, it was a loud scream in my head) "just leave". So, now I'm even more confused, I can't hear Clifford at all, I start walking up along the side of the house (I've picked up the phone already) and I'm muttering swears under my breath. I couldn't believe this. My parents weren't like this. I walked out front of the garage and I saw these two grungey looking kids walk past me, and I know them, I swear I know them. They're those younger kids I went to school with, but in reality (out of dream) I've never seen these two faces before in my life. They're wandering onto my property, up my driveway, passing me as I find a Beatles calender sticking out of the cracks in the brick on the side of my garage (in a previous dream, I had bought two Calenders for me and my Mom, her's with the beatles, mine with the doors, so this was insulting) and I went to grab it. I could finally hear Clifford and we started talking and I had to interrupt him because I just realized these two kids went onto my front lawn. I went around the corner and I saw this girl preparing to spit on my front door. It cracked open a bit (the most ridiculous things are said in dreams) and my Mom said to her, "Please don't spit on our door," and then she closed it. The girl kept spitting on it, and the boy just stood there. Both of them looking ratty and homeless. Finally I dropped the phone, Cliff could hear absolutely everything that was being said and/or done. I grabbed the girl and told her to knock it off. She starts spitting in my face now so I'm grabbing her hair and pulling her face backward so that she can't really get a good shot at me with her saliva. She doesn't say a word. The boy steps in and says, "I know how we can solve this," and he pushes me away from his friend and there's now a gun being waved around. He screams, "SHE HATES ME NOW, YOU KNOW," and a gun shut was fired. It hit me in the side. He's not talking about the girl with him. I don't know who the hell he's talking about. I'm now on the ground, I don't know what he's going on about..
Boy: "WHY DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM?"
Me: "WHO?" Extremely surprised, now I really don't know what the hell he's talking about.
Boy fires another shot that misses me only by an inch. He's shaking and nervous and young and really losing it. "SHE DOESN'T WANT TO HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH ME NOW."
Me: "I don't know what..."
Boy: "SHE WANTS TO KILL YOU... THEY ALL WANT TO BEAT ME UP."
I'm speechless, I can't say anything now and I'm losing strength. I'm losing sight. I can't do much at this point.
Finally the boy finishes rambling and I mutter something, he screams "WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM?" and points the gun at my head. Remember, this boy is firing like crazy. I'm now shaking, I still don't know what the hell he's talking about and then all of a sudden I accept my fate, and I ask quietly again, "who?" The only thing I could think about now was Clifford on the telephone, I wished he hadn't heard any of this, I knew he was about to hear me die. You could hear the boy slowly start pressing the trigger one last time and then I woke up. I bet he blew my head off. I can't believe it. He blew my head off and Clifford heard it, my parents and some stranger setting up our stereo saw it. I didn't fucking sleep with anyone.

April 23, 2003
11:13 PM  ()

The unfairness will subside in the end, which will mark the beginning, but I want it to be now. I'm allowed to be greedy sometimes, right? It's okay in this kind of situation, right? Soon, right? I have the money to just go now, I can get a one-way ticket and just leave as soon as possible. I don't know what I'd do with myself once I got there, but I'm sure I'd survive somehow. The only thing holding me back is her, and it's not a burden, I am not bitter towards her for it. I want to be here, I want to know everything is okay before I leave. If they could tell me that everything will be fine, there's no threat, there's nothing liable to go wrong while I'm gone... I'd leave as soon as I got the chance, the next flight that I could afford. My body is just about ready to start trembling profusely, and I'm to be in tears as soon as I hit my bed and blankets again.

I hung up the phone just after I returned a farewell for the night, and my body aches for even just a single touch from the tip of his finger. If it weren't for you I would look like shit everyday, you know that right? If it weren't for you I wouldn't be smiling, I'd be wallowing in a hole of self-pity trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing with all the information and recent occurances that I have in the palms of my hands. My eyes would be red and sore from anger and from my own deceit.

I remember writing that first letter. I sat in the middle of my bedroom floor and I fell in love with the dim lighting that swallowed me whole. I fell in love with your messy writing, I fell in love with the insanity that was us at the time. I wanted to be wild and I wanted to be adventurous. Why haven't I done anything about this? Because I'm too petrified to even walk along the top of a snow covered mountain. Symbolism. Because I'm too petrified to walk on an iced over creek not knowing how deep it could be. I am not wild. I am not adventurous, and I am sorry. Or maybe I am, but not physically, only mentally. Or maybe I'm not even that, I just pretend to be. I don't know. Tonight is a night where I don't know myself, but I do know what I want, and it's to be with you. Even if I could just get a two-second glance. Motion, three dimensional, wonderful, alive. I just want everyone to stop talking, I just want it all to stop for a few seconds and I want to remember everything. I want to be given that time to remember the things I can't remember clearly. There's only a few I can't grasp entirely, but every moment, every minute. I want to remember it all. I want to feel it all, I want a lot of things. I want a lot of things right now. This openly selfish moment will pass, but it will always be there until it all ends and starts the way it should. Darling, I'm so sorry I'm this far away. Alright, here they come. I must find a tissue and go to bed.

5:16 PM  ()

I feel firey red. So, I've changed the settings on my computer to accomodate my temporary colour emotion. I like how he says he sees colours, he sees a person's colour. He says mine's black in the most positive way. I like having a black aura about me. I never thought I did. It was almost like I tried for it when I was younger and when he said that to me, as I sat in the darkness of my room months ago, an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment came over me. Pathetic, maybe, but interesting none the less. It'll probably change sooner or later, I'll turn into a yellow gob of something. I don't think I ever want to be yellow. So, if I start going yellow, please let me know so I can do something about it.

My wrists feel as though they're almost bound to something, like I'm being tortured, but I like it. Silver on my fingers makes me feel royal, almost. I think my ego is booming right now, it's almost like I could walk out my front door and everyone would just look at me noticing my pride. I really don't know what it is. It could be the fact that I don't have to work in the morning, but in the evening, tomorrow. It could be because I'm wearing some pretty funky coloured socks. It could be because I shaved my legs today and I feel fresh. I bet I know what it is, it's because my fingers look so long, pale, and slender today I can't even believe they're my own. Wow, it's amazing how I can just get an entire ego-trip out of such a small thing. I don't even look good today, I'm dressed as though I'm getting ready to vegetate on the couch over in the corner and set up some cheesy movies to watch. And, for once, I'm not doing that. I'm actually going out tonight for a few hours with a fellow co-worker. She's only sixteen (think of Dr. Hook's "Only Sixteen" song here), and I couldn't believe my ears when she told me that. My eyes see an extremely mature girl, physically appearing about twenty or twenty-one years old. Her boyfriend's around that age. Either way, her vocabulary and the way she uses her hands to speak does not make a mind think that this girl is only sixteen years old. I think I dropped whatever I was smoking when she told me that, and my jaw. I couldn't believe it, I still can't. Everytime I look at her I don't think "sixteen", I think "coffee, cigarettes, good conversationalist, loyal worker, gotta be twenty-something". Anyway, seven o'clock is waiting for me tonight. I'm actually happy to just go out and sit back at work with someone. It's almost like the "Humpty's" days where a Lauryn would look at the ashtray and say "I want to take a photograph of that, it's totally us," and we'd go on listening and babbling on about another thing that interests us. It's good to have it close, I guess. I don't have much time to just drive across the city anymore for it, I don't have much time for a lot of things lately except some writing (like this or in a notebook), some reading, a specific phone call (there's always time for that), a movie at night, occassional immaturity and giggling with Meagan (which I can't get enough of), an occasional drive into the north east of calgary to pick up something from the mall. Just little things I can do in the hours I have to myself. It'll be good to move when I do, it'll be nice to be able to do and share these kinds of things with Clifford and inluding other people in for coffee dates and what not. I really do wonder how much time I will have to spare as I grow older. People think it's bad when I think so far into the future. I think it's bad, too, but I can't help it. It's what I do, it's what I can't get rid of. I'm thinking about things that might happen when I'm thirty, and my eighteenth birthday is less than two weeks from now. Ridiculous, I suppose. This birthday will fly by just like any other. Time goes fast now, my Dad says it'll start going faster as I age. I can imagine he's right. I know he's right. He spends every day flying around like some frantic bat blinded by intense light, he does everything so quickly. But he gets it done, and he feels good afterwards, so I suppose that's all that matters. And he fits his golf in at some point whether it be on television or actually playing the game just beyond our backyard. My mind is everywhere.

I'm debating on putting this on my website, or maybe I'll just keep it to myself; saved on my computer. I never get around to printing anything off anymore because my damn printer just doesn't want to work. "Your catridge is empty." What are you talking about? There's another full cartridge in there, you insane piece of (okay, let's change the subject). My ego's not booming anymore, so I guess that's a good thing. I feel normal again, no one will notice me on these neighborhood streets today or any other day. Rules to abide by in our neighborhood: don't park on the opposite side of the street from your own house. Not anywhere. It leads to the next door neighbor of the person straight across from you calling the police. Or maybe it's just my neighbor. Mom asked me yesterday to go over there to drop off a piece of paper that had something of no interest to me on it. I refused. I will not go over to that crazy lady's house. I hate their daughter's dog (who she just abandons there every once in a while to run off and go get married). I hate how crazy lady and her husband (sometimes daughter when she's around) watch me out of their front window when I used to come home late, or I'm out front talking to someone I know. I hate how crazy lady calls my house to tell my Mom, in the summer, that there "just might be something wrong" with me. I'll throw as many fake seizures as I want when you watch me out of that window which looks onto my backyard, lady, and don't you forget it.
I can't stand that, just being watched with no expression at all. How can anyone do that? I observe people, but they don't know I'm observing them, and if they do they're usually right in front of me and we're having some sort of conversation. I like noticing simple lines and gestures, anything. It's all neat, but I could never just watch someone for the pure sake of it. That's just simple idiocy. It's stupid. You just don't do that! "There's somethin' wrong with the world today, I don't know what it is." Totally, livin' on the edge.

What edge? There. is. no. edge. That's right, I said it. Think about it, things are exciting, dangerous, fun, weird, strange. It's normal. It's... just normal. But then again, who am I to define normal? Maybe there is an edge. Stop it, Heather.

Alright, my fingers are cold from typing now. I think I'll wander upstairs to see what my Mom's up to, or maybe I'll finish cleaning up my room. Wait, I already did that. Oh, I know. Laundry. Parent's laundry. That's what I have to do.

8:44 AM  ()

Meagan is so dead when we get off work today. So dead. I'm shaking the fist. That's all I've been doing this morning. I've been called "grammartron", and I think that's about it. But I'm still shaking the fist.

I woke up very easily this morning. I'm getting used to this whole working full-time thing. Yesterday, I talked to Ryan at Fas-Gas (where I used to work) and he said that Keith was talking about having me back. We'll see, maybe part-time. Strictly part-time, or I'll pull of Keith's ears. That is if I don't get this "golfcourse job". I still need to go in and talk to them. The girl that we know who did it last ended up making enough money from just that job to put herself through a backpacking trip through Europe. That would be so neat, I want to do something like that one today, but right now I'm a greedy fuck and all I want is money.

I actually have a bed-time now, after all these years. Actually, I don't remember having a bed-time. Ever. Just an, "okay, I suppose it's getting late, Heather, get ready for bed." Interesting. Anyway, ten to 9, I should flee upstairs for something to eat. Ha, and I love Kat's (casual.) latest entry about Dave falling off a chair.

April 22, 2003
3:53 PM  ()

My cousin Steven (who I haven't seen in years, since his Father's wedding) just took off with a piece of paper that I had written "thestares.cjb.net" on. (That's right, boys, I still use "cjb", I hate the "tk" thing. It really bothers me.) He's currently on his way to go visit his two friends that work for Independent Records and they want to check the boys out. Pretty neat, I thought. It was so odd that Steven knows a lot of the guys I know of out in Vancouver. He hates Robin Black, apparently one of my cousins friends started dating Robin Black's wife (at the time, who was from Winnipeg) while they were still married. Insanity insued, as assumed. And I really do have to let you all know that I haven't listened to Mock Orange in a while. Too hilarious.

Today's been a strange day. Many screams from my Mother, many 'fuck off's and many 'leave's. My heart was a little torn after the argument but all is well. I was told that I was the problem, and I said that I might as well leave, and she said that would be fine with her because maybe all the negativity would fall away. Maybe it would, so if this is so, it soon will. Don't worry, Mom. Either way, smiles are had and I'm taking them out for dinner. So talented, all of us, at candy-coating.

8:47 AM  ()

It really is nice not having to go to work in the morning. I'm capable of enjoying and witnessing the morning turn into noon, and then the noon turn into the afternoon and evening. I can't even imagine what my hair looks like right now. Yesterday was the first time I had ever seen it go hilariously messy (sticking all over the place and the like) and I can feel it sticking out on my head again this morning. Ah, my hair's so thick, it's frustrating.

I was more than correct when I said that modern day horror movies are just hilariously pathetic, or something like that. So, we rented "White Orleander" (CORRECTION: it's "Oleander". Cliff was quite miffed when he noticed that I was spelling this movies title WITH an "r" rather than WITHOUT it. So sorry, dear. Picky.) under Clifford's advice. That boy has amazing taste in films, he really does. He's already ranted about the main character being hot like fire so I won't get into that, but the movie itself is just fantastic. There was points when I wanted to ring her mothers neck, there was a few "what a psYCHO"s in there coming from me as Meagan keeled over in pain on the other couch (I really don't know what was wrong with her, I didn't know what to do for her and well, she said she was fine and we both kept watching the movie). Ah fuck it, I have to go on about the girl. She looks like an old friend of mine, Chrissy Upham, but 13 x more adorable. Her eyes, holy damn. I loved the last two minutes of the film, simply great. New York would be interesting. I think I'm going to get my Mom to watch it, it's something she'd definitely enjoy. Renee Zellweger is just awesome. I love her in any movie. And so does she.

Dad stormed around stomping his feet every now and again upstairs in the house. The garage door was open (the one leading into the house) and the light was on, so he came downstairs and asked me if I had been out there. No. I hadn't. Apparently he just locked it so I'm assuming my Mom went in there for whatever she ... I'll kill her if that's what it was for. All I know is I wasn't in there, and my Dad thinks I'm lying and he also thinks I'm smoking in the garage still. What a low blow. I'm not. If I was still smoking it would only take place in two places: 1. at work, 2. away from the house, far away from the house & outside. So, my eyes burned with an exhaustion last night that only this room could understand. I wish I had Nicholas laying with me, he would have gave Dad a funny look and growled knowing I was being doubted. He always let out a little half-assed grunt when I was being yelled at. I'm talking about a dead dog, just so you all know. Nicky. Nicholas James. A runt, stunk ourageously as he grew older, but cute big brown eyes overpowered it all until he came too close. His fur started to turn red from a light beige colour. I remember throughout my life my parents said he was the color of an "apricot". I suppose, sometimes. He was so small and he fit so nicely at the side of my legs. Not like Chico does, Chico is a very uncomfortable dog unless he's laying on your stomach in some awkward position as usual. He used to be a chocolate brown colour and now he's just ugly and annoying, and seeing as he's getting old he's also starting to smell. Not as bad though, you can still stand having him near you and around you as long as he's just had a bath. I blame this dog for the aches and pains I have in the morning when he's slept in my bed. I blame this dog for my garbages being tipped over and everything in the wastebasket being pulled out into the living room. I blame this dog for all of the clothes and undergarments I find that he's dragged out into various rooms and up the stairs. He's like an annoying toddler brother, I guess. I want to scream and stomp my feet at him sometimes. See, I get it from my Dad.

The skin on my face feels as though it's going to melt right off, and this can't be a good thing, it's not a very great feeling. It's actually quite strange. My lips are dry and my toes are cold. I don't know any other solution other than to do these three things as soon as I get into my room: 1. brush my teeth, 2. shower, 3. shave legs. All so incredibly irellevent to the fact that my face feels as though it's going to melt off, but that'll go away after I'm refreshed in the shower. I'm really not a morning person.

Message to Mark Hamilton: Pita Pit is absolutely amazing. I have my favourite choice already. Chicken Ceaser w/ ceaser sauce, cheddar cheese, onions, and BBQ sauce. So fantastic. Goodness gracious. It's like eating a heaven or something.

April 21, 2003
9:20 AM  ()

buddha wouldn't chase. I can't believe how young some of these smart girls are. I don't understand why it's such a blow to my mind, but it really is. It shouldn't be, I was flabbergasting other people with my intellect at 8 and 9. It's just neat. I like it. Ha, notice how I said "girls", instead of "girls & boys". How sexist is that? It's not sexist at all, it's just I keep running into young females and their websites with writing on it that just makes my mind explode and I love it. I haven't run into a younger boy quite yet, or have I? Oh, I'm lying, I have. The boy who introduced me to "wander-lust". Either way, interesting and neat. Ha, I just pissed off my Dad. He treats everything as though it's a problem and when he's at work, he treats everything as a business proposition. Last night he flipped out on me and slammed my door because there's a sweater of mine laying in the middle of my bedroom floor. "Don't let your room get like this again," and I can guarantee him it won't get like how it was before, but what's preventing a sweater on the ground? As he was letting me go he said in a frustrated voice (only because he could tell I was interupted by his phone call and I was trying to rid of him as fast as I could because he was going on and on about how his day was ruined because I get home around 3 or 4 o'clock this afternoon from work), "PICK UP YOUR ROOM," and hung up. I won't be a smart ass entirely but honestly, "pick up your room"? Why not "pick up the things that shouldn't be on your floor in your room"? Some of the things this guy says. I love it when he screams at me and then says the word "situation" while screaming like so. Pronounciation for him: sit-chi-ey-shun. Hilarious! I can't help myself but laugh every single time! No wonder I drive him nuts. I'm such a brat.

I could eat something, but I'm not too sure on what to eat. I woke myself up at 8:02, and then again at 8:12 this morning in order to get ready for work. I work at 11:00 but I'm going in an hour early just incase they need me. I'm not happy about this but an extra hour of work means an extra hour worth of money. So, what the hell? Why not? I get a free coffee out of it. Oh, man. I really need to cut down on the coffee thing. And I need to make a dentist appointment. I really shouldn't have mentioned those two things together, you're thinking my teeth are going yellow from coffee stains. This is a very wrong assumption. My teeth are quite fine, but two of them are in slight pain and I do need to go for my annual check-up. They always compliment (the dentist and his usual assistant) the structure of my teeth, but they always find something wrong. I hate it. I hate needles, I really can't stand them. I should set up an appointment with them for tomorrow or one of the days I have off. Tuesday, and I think Thursday are the only days I can set something up. I'll have to look at my work schedule when I go up there in a bit.

First thing I did when I woke up this morning: tried to get comfortable and just couldn't because of the position I had been sleeping in all night and it's messing up my back. Second thing I did when I woke up this morning: rolled over onto my stomach and onto the side of the bed, had my right arm over the side and grabbed the pen and my notebook journal and wrote: "My back aches with a pain I shouldn't have every morning. I'd much prefer this pain the morning after sex because it would happen far less often than it does usually." What a strange thing to write as soon as I wake up, still sort of half asleep. Hm. I can hear lawn mowers on the golf course, what a "summer noise". The "summer taste" was experienced yesterday, powdered iced tea with crushed ice. Oh, baby. "Summer taste," indeed. Third thing I did this morning: wandered into the bathroom and turned the curling iron on, got dressed. Fourth thing I did this morning: burnt my left pinky finger with the curling iron. It still hurts. I didn't shower at all, I'll do that tomorrow. That's right, I'm not showering today. I don't work tomorrow, so I might not even shower until later on tomorrow afternoon. How sick is that? It's so awesome. I'm so lazy, especially when I'm allowed to be.

"Is that another bird I hear? A different "tweet"? Well, fuck, Clifford better call me soon and start damn well tweeting. I need my second bird. Tweet." Ha, that's the funniest thing (to me) I've written in that thing for a while. I'm not funny much anymore. I'm nerdy, but not funny.

I wonder if my Mom's awake. I wonder when that bird finally did stop chirping. I wonder how long it takes to create a new hole on the green of the golfcourse. I wonder how long it would take me to hit 9 holes in a day, because I can't remember. I wonder how busy it will be at work. I wonder if it'll be busy at all. I wonder how much coffee I'll drink today, and I wonder if I'll want to take these socks off when I get home. I wonder what will be said and what will be thought and what will be done. I wonder. I wonder. I wonder what else she'll tell me. I wonder what else she'll write. I wonder what else they'll try to get out of me. I liked our conversation last night. I liked thinking about it afterwards. I liked the smile I had on my face 98% of the time during it's taking place. I like how we really are the best of friends, I like how we had that first, I like a lot of things about us. I liked how you spoke of it, I liked how you explained it, I liked everything last night. I keep him up late, it's my fault. I apologize to everyone for when he's so drained the next day. The burn on my finger is starting to sting more than it already has this morning, maybe this is karma. I like it when the bracelet you left with me pinches my skin, it reminds me of you and your "pushin' the buttons". It makes me laugh, even though I cringe at first trying to figure out what the hell is going on. The sun's creeping out just a little more and it's getting warmer, I can't wait to drive to work.

April 20, 2003
4:32 PM  ()

I am a 50's sex goddess.
(Ha. Ha. Get it? I work in a 50's diner? Ha. Get it? Get it? Funny? Ah well, I thought so.)

8:30 AM  ()

Another reluctant to wake up sort of morning. Fifteen minutes and I'm off to a busy day at work. Sunday's are always busy and I'm assuming today will be much busier than usual. I sort of hope not, but it brings in mad tip money (meaning the tip-out will be rad). I just sort of sat in the shower this morning, I was half asleep and I still didn't really know what was going on. Just letting the water hit me, having to force myself to sit up and put shampoo & conditioner in my hair (I was so tired that I actually forgot to wash the shampoo out and put the conditioner overtop). I'm quite awake now, I'm not tired, I'm wired and ready to go. I like this feeling, I'm not feeling as though I'm being put up to a boring chore.

I find you both hilarious sometimes.

I read quite a few more chapters in "Life of Pi" last night. Yeah, I'm there. Taming the tiger. What an interesting book, must thank Clifford for leaving it here with me. I'm taking my time with it though, I've noticed I rather like taking my time. This way the book lasts longer. And if it's a book I'm enjoying, I want it to last longer.

Alright, I should grab something to eat and then head out. I'm really curious as to what Meagan's "boyfriend" said to her.

April 19, 2003
10:52 PM  ()

I can't sleep. I work at 9 am. again and I just know I'm going to be up until 2 am. reading or watching late night television in a slight daze. How fantastic.

3:39 PM  ()

Met Colleen's boyfriend today, and I must say (this is why I've brought it up) her and I have fantastic taste in boys. Actually, between her and I and the boys we've dated from school (she's dated other outside of, and so have I... but all the boys her and I dated from school have been the same guys) our taste has definitely improved 940%. Hell yes.

Parents our outside doing yardwork. It's nice to see my Mom up and about spraying the house down just like she would any other spring. (Ha, and she's getting water in the house through the door-window thing that's open just like every other spring... Mom, you're not supposed to spray open windows.) My Dad's gone a little strange since my Aunt left, which I've been complaining about in previous entries. Ah, well, just as long as he doesn't upset my Mom then I'm fine. He can say or do whatever he wants to me, but if he makes that woman cry one more time due to confusion and stress at this point in time I will never forgive him. I think my doorbell just rang, what the hell? Interesting, no one's... oh. Mom sprayed the downstairs doorbell with her ... I get it. Fantastic, way to go Mom.

Nothing to do today and I'm actually quite happy about it. I might take myself out for dinner (actually, I'm craving poutine so it probably won't be a full meal type deal) later on, write some. I'm very relaxed right now, I usually am when it's warm outside. I'm not wearing socks and don't feel like it (which is a very rare thing because I'm obsessed with socks and I hate feet), I was ready to put on a pair of shorts that I bought last summer and didn't wear... but they don't fit me anymore. Ha! Fatty. My hips have widened much more than I thought they did, I guess. Three cheers for becoming a woman.

My brother Joey called (the one who actually hosts and pays for this wonderful site of mine, love him with a passion) me just when I got in from work and sounded hyped up. He's taking me for my first legal drink on the Monday that is my birthday. "I'm your oldest brother, so I get to take you out and buy you your first legal drink!" Ah, I love you, Joe. So great. So... Joey. He's the one who had me listening to Gary Numan my entire life, hence why I love his music so. My brother have that and our computer nerdiness in common, and the fact that we have the same mother. Otherwise, we pretend we're not related because he likes mushrooms all the time, and I don't (only on their own with ranch dressing); he likes tomatoes, and I don't; ... actually, I think that's about it. He offered for me to live with him, said he would be reasonable with rent, a while back. I'm sure the offer still stands but it's quite fine. So great of him, though. He's got such a neat house, I love it. And fantastic cats. I love cats. I want one, badly.

Ugh. Calgary Punk is so ridiculous, why do I keep ending up on this website? So stupid. Exit. Now. It's full of 13 year old morons and some older with fake accounts and ridiculous "POST YOUR PICTURE!" posts. I shake my head in shame.

8:38 AM  ()

^{Good morning,} and now what? It's early, I'm trying to get myself in a good mood. I'm (apparently) working with Colleen Peterson for the first time since I started at the diner, so that shall be interesting. I think today's when I'm surpervised doing cash-out. I haven't even done it on my own yet, I just watched Nicki do it. It made sense, but that was 3 days ago. Argh. It's pretty much the same as the gas station, I'll just ask Colleen when I'm not picking up on something. I'm really not in the mood for work today though, I didn't want to work weekends, but it's the only time when they make the most money.

Many compliments recieved on my new hair deal. Thank you, to everyone who sent them. And "stranger", of course I still know how to smile.

April 18, 2003
6:10 PM  ()

I really hate you today.

11:57 AM  ()

Father, would you please pull that stick out of your anus? What is your problem today? And would you stop going in my room? Would you stop knocking on doors once and then opening them? Would you just stop being so damn pissy? You're not helping her, and you're not helping me either. This is going to be one ridiculous and angry month if you keep this up. So, smarten up and just stop it. Stop everything. Calm down. Oh, now you're throwing around pots and pans upstairs? Banging them around at least to let everyone know you're upset. Oh, you're such a child. Such a child.

1:11 AM  ()

events of the evening. swimming. running into an old friend's brother and being quite overwhelmed by that surprise. sneaking out of the house. being mellow. and watching cody beacher punch the hell out of his own head in front of my friend's house in the middle of the street. he didn't realize i was one of the spectators until i said his name and told him to "calm down". he doesn't have any special reason for his anger. he never has. he's simply just a fucking psycho. and in all honesty, i see it as a cry for attention. he put on a show for us tonight because he knew we were watching. he ran. he punched himself. he threatened to beat me. he threatened another girl that i used to know in the earlier years of my being in this town. he screamed in her face. she screamed back telling him nobody cares. well, i wouldn't mind helping him if i could but really... how can you help someone like that? well, you can't. no one can help him but himself. he told me he would get his gun and kill himself right there in the street. he yelled at the boy in the car who was egging him on (not a good idea, i might add) to bring everyone the boy knows so that he could kill them all right there. he said he would slit his throat. he said he would kill me. he said he would do a lot of things. and then he ran off around the corner as his friend, john, ran after him with a cellphone in hand and something else of cody's. i asked keri, the girl, what was going on. she had no answer. there is no answer. wow, what a sight for midnight.

the explanation as to why i'm not using my usual proper punctuation (capital letters at the beginning of sentences and the capitalization of the letter 'i' when referring to myself) is because i'm in a very uncaring mood at the moment. after seeing that i just have no hope for the boy. i do wish to know in the future that he's not deceased or in some jail. what a fool. what a fool.

chatted it up with tom brown tonight, he says i "better" get over there (ontario) in the summer. i definitely plan on it. it's on my list of goals, priorities.

i really can't get over beacher. or beecher. whatever, it's all the same. what a fool.

walking home wasn't very pleasant. i felt like i was going to be shot at or pulled into one of the cars that you just couldn't see into. i haven't not felt safe in my own neighborhood for years. and i mean since i lived in calgary, when i was twelve years old. that's not an uplifting feeling whatsoever. and it's not just because of cody, it's because of the known fact that there's kids wandering around like this. was he drunk? no. he wasn't drunk. was he on anything? no. he wasn't on anything. both of these surprised me. i remember when he used to go nuts on kids in school. what a fool. what a fool.

i keep shaking my head.

i'm disappointed.

i'm disappointed with today's youth. this is the bullshit i used to see almost every night in my old neighborhood. the stars (police force) helicopter was always flying over our house and around the area, shining their bright lights looking for the kids that just committed a robbery. police cars around at someone's house pretty much every weekend getting their questioning done. i had faith in not seeing it again, not here. although this is a pretty boring town, i figured it was quite peaceful. it was. up until the little boys that were born here grew up and figured out how to use their fucking fists, and the little girls finally learned how to flaunt their bodies like there was no tomorrow. jealousy. anger. stupidity. insanity. and cody. so. fucking. inane. inane. inane. inane.

the million dollar wish.

i'll go park myself on the couch now and fall asleep and forget about it, i guess. might as well get used to it again seeing as it's impossible to get away from.

April 17, 2003
1:11 PM  ()

I fucking hate hackers. I want to get rid of my webcam. I just had the most disturbing experience ever and I will never attempt to use a chatroom to waste time ever ever again. I didn't turn my webcam on (simply because I don't know how unless it's with the program that runs it), and over my music I hear this "Are you going to get naked or what?"... wait a minute here, that's not part of the song. I look at my webcam and it's on. I gave it a funny look, raised my middle finger and turned the camera towards the wall. Shut down the program, camera goes off. I am free. I am now terrified of computers.

12:08 AM  ()

"Why did they send her over anyone else? How should I react? These things happen to other people. They don't happen at all, in fact. When you're followin' an angel does it mean you have to throw your body off a building? Somewhere they're meeting on a pinhead calling you an angel, calling you the nicest things. I heard they had a space program when they sing you can't hear, there's no air. Sometimes I think I kind of like that and other times I think I'm already there."

April 16, 2003
10:59 PM  ()

I will admit, I was slightly offended by that remark. "And what about the voice of Geddy Lee? How did it get so high? I wonder if he speaks like an ordinary guy."

I'm a blank one.

In all honesty, have you ever? - Maybe. So when are you going to get started then? What's going to get you to jump up and down with a scream just because you feel like it? When's it all going to go down? What are we talking about again? Nobody knows, don't forget that.

Laying in a puddle of wait. That's alright. I like how I said yesterday that life is a big long wait, a big long wait to die. It's really just a fact (for me) when you look at it, it's nothing too negative at all. It kind of lifts a bit of weight off of my shoulders.

What the fuck am I listening to?

1384 productions presents:

Jonathan says:
Did you hear about the electrician who almost got fired?
heather says:
I didn't. What happened to him?
Jonathan says:
Well it could've gone pretty badly. But it turned out alright. They just ended up delighting him.

6:13 PM  ()

a few photographs, i suppose:
I bought the graduation dress today, and it's not even my graduation. I thought it was pretty damn hot. Oh yeah, and I got my hair cut off:

Wow, wasn't that fun?

2:02 AM  ()


And I closed my eyes, you were right there. Your eyes were bright, and you just kept singing. The edge of the bed, the edge of the stool, the edge of the stage, the edge of the world.

A conversation took place and more knowledge was obtained about the only Grandfather I was supposed to have that's ever really been talked about. He punched the sister, he hit my Mother in the head, he kicked my brother down the stairs, he attacked the house with pots and pans that he had stole hours earlier. He broke his wife's nose, she filed for a divorce. They were married again years later. Another sister witnessed the beating of the sister living with us, she couldn't forgive herself for being so young and being so incapable of preventing such blows to the body. She attended therapy a decade or two later. She apologized, and the immune sister couldn't figure out why until she was told. There was nothing to apologize for. It's amazing how long you can take something with you throughout periods in your life. It's amazing how long you can want to hang on to something. But what about the things you don't want to hang on to? Like that. I have a few. I have a few scars that I've been trying to forget. Easily put out of mind, easily thrown into the wind. Always lingering or turning around like a boomerang. I can't remember the last time I had to spell that word. Girl, you'll be a woman soon.

And you know what I heard? I heard that Modest Mouse was coming into the city 7 days after my birthday. I think I'm going to go. Alone. I'll know others there, but I think I'll attend this one alone. Maybe I'll have a drink, maybe I'll mingle just slightly with others, but I think I'd rather enjoy this one on my own.

This ache. I just can't get rid of this ache. I don't want to get rid of this ache.

We're making progress, don't you think?

There's no moonlight anymore tonight in the backyard. Earlier, there was a full moon. She drove me around in her brand new red two door car with her freshly printed drivers license and put up with my immaturity for the night. I put too much gum in my mouth, I made her laugh, we danced to pop-punk on the radio, and when I got home my Mother pointed out that I had put on my sweatpants backwards. I look down and realize it is so. Well, I'll be damned. "Can't you see why he loves her?" my Mother shouted over all the laughter in the room as I tried to shove Kettle corn in my Aunt's mouth after she decided she didn't like it. Throwing fake food over the puppy's head was quite amusing seeing as he decided to chase whatever it was we were apparently throwing. We decided to get a dog when we move out, as long as it's as stupid as the one I have now. I actually want a cat. But, I don't think I'll be able to deal with a pet as soon as I'm out of the house. I'll want a break, maybe. "I can't afford to let you down, there's nothing here but broken sound." We're trespassing, you know that right?

I've got no energy left, not for tonight. I listened to his songs and imagined he was near, and I have watched the end half of "Gummo" and been utterly disgusted by what it was I was watching that one night when I couldn't tell the difference between my hands and feet. I then watched the middle of "The Doors" with Jim Morrison played by Val Kilmer. It made me cry. I'm not going to tell you why, I'm not even quite sure why. Waving the knife in his face, waving the knife in her face, ending in a sick but passionate embrace as tears rolled down her cheeks and just didn't know what the fuck was going on. Caught in bed with another man, locked in the closet which was doused in fuel and lit on fire (Come on, baby, light my fire), showing up at the studio begging to make it up to him, words of his saying she's the one, she's his girl. End result: she's sucking him off as he sings a song so sexily it hurts my fucking eyes because I'm so revolted by the scene and intrigued by the singer's voice only. I could barely look. Just like I could barely look when the boy eats that god foresaken chocolate bar, along with spaghetti, in a dirty bathtub looking all disgusting in that ridiculous movie "Gummo". I just don't know what to think right now.

I almost wish I could write like that.

I almost wish I could do a lot of things. But what I have is all I've got. There's a dollar placed on the side of the desk. I'm taking it. It's more than likely already mine.

No, I didn't appreciate the insult either.

And there really are some things you just don't need to see or do in public.

You're still at the tip of my tongue.

April 15, 2003
3:04 PM  ()

I really can't fucking wait to sleep in tomorrow morning.

Yesterday, I was corrected by some ignorant fool for using the term "hung" incorrectly. This person was right of course, but I had just stated that one of my friends (I'll use the correct word now, I suppose) hanged himself. Some people really need to know when to be a complete ass. I have no respect for their kind. Bitches. Ha. Either way, it was slightly offending. Slut. I shake my head in disgust... and my fists.

Everytime I go to write a new journal entry in my written journal I keep writing the month down as "March". Jeez, that's just proof right there that I've still got my head in the clouds.

April 14, 2003
7:31 PM  ()

Heh, I suppose the only thing I don't like about my Aunt is the fact that she says she's not homophobic but she's extremely stereotypical when it comes to homosexuality and she everytime it's brought up (usually on the television) she says something about it being wrong. Everyone's entitled to their opinions, but I don't need to hear it every time it's brought up. Aunt: "They're gay." Mom: "What makes you say that?" Aunt: "You can just tell. By the way they are. By the way they talk. Way they act. Just by the way they are." And then there was silence. Aunt: "It'll become a problem in the movie." And she's right here, of course. It's always a problem in a movie but in most the endings usually try to propose the fact that it shouldn't be a problem. They try to get the understanding of the viewer. You'll never get Aunt Mary's. Sorry, guys. No loss to you, though, I suppose. Ah, I just don't like hearing negative things about homosexuality every day. It's kind of more than frustrating. She knows how I feel though, she knows I don't like it when she has to be so blunt about her thinking it's wrong. At least she doesn't drag it on and on like one of her sisters does with absolutely everything.

I had a bath tonight. I sank backward and let my head rest under the water, my ears were full of water and all I could hear was my heart beat and my breathing. It was so incredibly soothing. I haven't done that since I was a child, listened to my own heart beat underwater. I used to do that all the time and my parents would call for me to get out and I wouldn't be able to hear them because I was concentrating too much on the sound I was hearing rather than the sounds that were muffled by the water coming from outside of the door. And then I was interupted. My Dad decided that it would be a good idea to knock on the door of my bathroom, and then he got this (sarcasm starts here) extremely wonderful idea to open my bathroom door and ask me what I was doing. (sarcasm ends.) Well, there's one of many things I could be doing in the bathroom, Father. The majority of those many things usually include the need for privacy, you fucking twit. "Excuuuse me, Dad, but what do you think you're doing?" And then he gets mad at me for telling him to "get out". What kind of insanity is that? Honestly. My hands are waving about in disgust and confusion here. Tell me, what kind of insanity is that?! I suppose he just didn't know what to do with himself. Thankfully I had my shower curtain closed (it's clear, but you can't see much through it... especially if I'm laying in the bathtub). He got so frustrated that he didn't know what to say or where to go so he just got mad at me for telling him off. Strange things, strange people, strange ways. What an idiot. You don't just open doors. Bah. Gross. I learned that when I was 6-7 years old. Mind you, I wasn't the one who opened that door. (shudders. yuck.)

It snowed earlier this evening, and now it's bright and warm looking outside (but with snow on the ground). All day it's been misty and rainy, and now this. So stupid. And I've been eating such unhealthy food all day. Yet, I'm drinking "SUGAR FREE! CAFFEINE FREE! SODIUM FREE! NATURALLY FLAVOURED! ORANGE MANGO SPARKLING WATER BEVERAGE!" HOLY SHIT! THE EXCITEMENT!

9:17 AM  ()

I'm gross. I'm not showering today until I get home from work. I'm just lazy and I felt like having a bit of time to myself this morning before I was off. Meagan's coming to pick up the car from me at work today so I'm hoping it's not busy otherwise it's going to be hard to get her the keys. I really do hope it's slow. I need to figure out their cash and debit/credit machines. They're so flippin' old. I'm not used to them at all. It's depressing.

I'm one happy girl.

My Mom and I are going to discuss this moving out thing again tonight, we started some of it last night. She's all for it, of course, and she finally gets how I just need some advice. I've got the plan, I just need to know how to do it.

I just remembered one of my dreams last night. My Mom went and got pregnant with twins. I was ecstatic but so pissed off because it hadn't been earlier in my life.

My boyfriend had a dream about us being in grade two together. He tried to impress me in this dream and I ignored him. That's so like me for being in grade 2. "You were working your ass off." It would have been more like me and Cody (a boy I was in grade 2 with, we were complete multiplication & division table crazy) would be trying to out-do one another and trying to finish one of our assignments first. I was a Math freak when I was a kid. Up until grade 9 I used to get "Math attacks", I'd run around the house in a complete frenzy looking for my Math text book from school and my homework assignment sheet and I'd go nuts. I don't get those anymore though. I'm a big failure now. Ha.

April 13, 2003
4:17 PM  ()


regular pretending, indeed.
I'm just a madwoman. Send me away.

8:33 AM  ()

This just can't be happening. What does it take to get a good night of sleep around here? I had high hopes for last night, but of course I turned into a sloppy sobbing miserable me. Plus, my dreams were distracting, I kept waking myself up from them.

I think I'm going insane. I had an out loud conversation with someone who just wasn't there. At least my dog doesn't sleep in there anymore.

Oh, bad day, bring it on.
Meagan: Sorry I didn't call you last night when I got home. I had an hour to clean my bedroom or else I lost use of the car for the next three days, and then I was told to stay in all night. I should have called to let you know, I apologize.

April 12, 2003
8:36 AM  ()

GOOD MORNING. The start to my morning hasn't been very good. I really hope this changes. I just want to vanish.

April 11, 2003
11:55 PM  ()

[sarcasm]Wow, Dad.[/sarcasm] I really don't know what that was all about... anyway, I should be sleeping. I work tomorrow. Money. Le cool. And now we start with the capital letters... BAH! WHY AM I BEING SO STUPID?

And for the man in the hat carrying the gun and just losing it on the corner of a random block: I just don't know.

9:50 AM  ()

I want to murder my dog.

April 10, 2003
11:36 PM  ()

Actually, I'll post more. I went for lunch with my brother today. It was weird. Not bad, not at all. It was great, actually. It was nice to spend time with him. I ordered a Chicken Fajita Quesadilla. Yeah, it was pretty awesome. And I found out that he's no longer with his girlfriend (Sandra) because she popped the "L" word and well, my brother just doesn't dig that. He's in his 30's and he's still not ready for commitment. Understandable, he's a man whom is never satisfied. He wants us to get together a least once a month. "We gotta do this more often, Heath. We really do. Alright?" Alright. Awesome. I'll be seeing him on my birthday. Jason (brother), Gary (him), and I will probably be heading down to 17th Avenue to go bar hopping. I'm sure Meagan will be coming along on this interesting night.

My Mom's doing better today, she's in good spirits... or was. She's sleeping now. There's no telling what the happenings of tomorrow will be. Too hectic. And I feel like such a bastard because I'm so fucking afraid of it all. Buh...

Why does life mock me like this?

And why is it so damn cold in my basement?
Why am I so damn whiney?

There are no stars out tonight.
Wow, this.. uh.. really sucks.

11:19 PM  ()

I want you here. Now.

I want me there. Now.

I promised you I would be happy tonight, so I am. I'm smiling. I'm content. But I'm still throwing a tantrum inside my head and I'm stomping my feet like I never have before.

April 09, 2003
10:59 PM  ()

Daughter. "I'm just sick of crying where noone can hear me." Father. "I know."

3:20 PM  ()

Well, that went good. I made money off the waitresses and their tips (no, I didn't steal it). That was cool. It's a job, can't complain, I like the people as well. And now... I don't know. I'll go be lazy. Actually, maybe I'll go out. But where? I have gas money... heh.. heh.. cool.

8:35 AM  ()

Eating sliced Bananas and Oranges for breakfast. I kind of have to, my Aunt sliced it all up for me and brought it downstairs for me as I've been getting ready. Eating fruit as soon as I wake up or close to the time is not good. Heh. I'll feel bad if I don't eat it, and it's so good. Let's just cross our fingers that Heather doesn't vomit on her first day of work.

April 08, 2003
11:12 AM  ()

a little bit harmful for me.
My brother, Gary, just called me about half an hour ago. We're going out for lunch together on Thursday... I tilt my head slightly towards the left with confusion because of this. I'm not doubting anything, it's just... I'm surprised. This particular brother of mine has never invited me out as just "us". I'm assuming it's for obvious reasons, wondering how we're all doing and my Aunt figures he knows that I need some attention that I haven't been getting (this is what she's said, I haven't felt neglected at all, except for the whole not knowing medical terms and what exactly is going on). I'm excited to see him. The last time I saw him was on his birthday in December, when I met his gir... I'm lying. I saw him the other week at my Dad's office, he came to visit my Dad and my Dad didn't have time for either of us and he disappeared when I went looking for him to sit down and talk with him. He left. It was strange. But before that it was during his birthday when I met his girlfriend. I wonder if they're still together.

I start my new job tomorrow at 10 a.m. instead of 5:30 p.m. It would have been nice to have a late shift, but at least I'll be getting up and doing something with my day. Today... I'm just waiting around for doctors and nurses to come in and out and tell us their opinions, etc. Oh, yes, and I want to record Donnie Darko. I was going to do that at 8:00 this morning, but I woke up half an hour late. So, I have two more chances to record that later on this evening. Ahem. Yes, it's almost like a race. I have an obsession with the soundtrack, I think. Back to talking about work... I then work both Saturday and Sunday. I get paid 27 something on Friday, it's going to be pretty rad. I'll put that in my bank and smirk ridiculously because... I will have just deposited a $27 cheque. I find that very funny. I would ask them to wait until the next payday, but there's no use. It'll give me something to giggle about anyways. Easily amused, of course.

I'm still surprised by my brothers telephone call. That was very cool. But the world is spinning too fast underneath me. It's getting hard to grip onto something these days.

But it's not impossible to hang on.

I look like a four year old, my hair's all over the place and I'm in sweatpants that are too big for me (I trip over them every time I stand up), and I'm also in an oversized sweater and I'm extremely pale. Ha, my Aunt and I find this funny. Meagan said she (Aunt) reminds her of her Grandmother. I suppose so, she's very Grandmother like, I guess. My Aunt's more like my Mom to me, though. They act very similar... probably because they're sisters. Way to go, Heather.

My fingers haven't been warm for almost two days... I wonder if they'll fall off. Maybe I'll go crazy and turn into Rennie's Grandmother. I'll start telling everyone I can't find my hands, when they're right in front of me, limp and dangling healthily from the wrists they're supposed to be attached to... but I won't see them, and I'll terrify little children. Six coloured pictures all in a row of a Marigold. She's there incase I want it all. He's scared 'cause I want.

I miss you.

April 07, 2003
11:13 AM  ()

My head hurts.

April 06, 2003
10:21 PM  ()

A kiss from the second, and you know... if anything were to have happened to them and I was left alone I was to live with her. A kiss that my Mother should have gave me, a kiss that makes me so angry and sad that I have tears welling up in my eyes, a kiss that's made me feel so warm and cared about. A kiss in a place that only he has ever chosen. Everything's linking together right now and it's just so horribly sad and depressing, the love that's been flowing continuously between the four of us is uplifting but emotional. Everything's blurry through teary eyes again, and I just can't see where I'll be stepping next. I do have to thank my Aunt for such a random act of kindness, so random. But I just wish that the motherly kiss she just placed on me was from my own Mother. I really do.

I've had a good day, I've had a good day. I'm smiled and I've spent the last two hours laughing and giggling like I haven't in days. And that was a warm kiss, there was nothing negative about it. There's just some wishes I have, some desires. But when you look at it properly, this isn't about me. It's not about me at all. It's about her. She's on the top of the list. I'm the one who's to be giving (and has been) the kisses on the forehead. Today, this morning, I had her look into my eyes as she cried and I told her that I loved her. She was embarassed. I just don't want you to see me like this, she says. Mom, I said, it's okay. I'm here to take care of you, too. I love you. I love you. I love you. I said it three times and with each my voice began to shake, my eyes began to water, and I smiled at her. She smiled back. I love you, Mom. You're alright. You're going to be alright. I know, she said.

What a beautiful woman. Both of them. And the thanks that my Aunt deserves hasn't gone unrecognized, I've told her (as well as my Dad) numerous times how her presence is more than just appreciated. She's helped my Dad and I out by keeping our feet on the ground, keeping us stable. She's the one who's put her foot in the door and not allowed it to be shut. She keeps my Mother laughing, she keeps her up and going and she makes her healthy food (if my Dad and I were to cook for her it would be nothing but catastrophe... for those of you who knows us, you could have already predicted that). She's a shining light for us right now, for us all. I am so thankful that she came. She put her life on hold for my Mom, her sister. "I wanted to be here to see things for myself, the progress, etc. I didn't want to hear only things that others wanted to tell me over a telephone line, I wanted to be here. I wanted to be with my sister. And I'm here for as long as nessicary. I'm not leaving until I know she's doing well." I like that. I love that determination. I don't want her to leave, I want her to stay. I like how she makes my Mom laugh and smile so much. I like how they bicker about the taste of tea whenever someone else makes it. I still don't understand how it's not the same. It's either strong, or not.. it's never different in taste. Crazy Brits.

10:04 AM  ()

There's something sticky on my keyboard and it's frightening me. So much sleep yesterday and last night. We finally "sprang forward" so now I have to rush around the house in order to get ready to go to Calgary to meet Kyla. She's getting her tattoo today.

I survived.

And Happy Birthday Rachel! She's 20. I wish I was 20. I would totally be somewhere else. Ooh, the jealousy.

Is it Sunday? It is! Monday means... oh wait, no... that's Tuesday. Damnit.

April 05, 2003
3:12 PM  ()

And now I really am hungover. I hate it. Well, I'm sure nobody likes it but you see... I'm never doing this again. It's a wonder why I broke my unannounced "break" from alcohol. And honestly, drinking milk - eating fresh juicy pineapple (sounds good, it was but...) - and drinking milk again just does not go over well with the stomach. Bah, my tummy feels like it did when Mike and I drank a whole carten of Strawberry Milk just for the hell of it. I should be puking over the bridge right about now.

Fun night, though.

Meagan's a riot.

One thing that's bugging me today is the fact that I feel as though I'm becoming a little too closed off, almost like I'm not listening. I don't like that. I really don't like that. Please tell me it's just me being overly paranoid or ridiculous, but I feel like I'm not catching on to something and I should be. What am I missing here?

April 04, 2003
10:00 AM  ()

I honestly feel hungover. Impossible because I haven't consumed copious amounts of alcohol in quite some time. My joints are aching with what I would call a growing pain if I was younger, but it's not so. I really do figure I'll be suffering from Arthritic pain when I'm older, if I'm not already. There's a high chance of me getting it, says the doctor to my Mom.

I woke up thinking I had something really important to do today, and I don't. Two things: visit Colleen at DT's at 3:00 before she goes on shift, and calling Jamie to make a coffee date. He called me last night and he sounds so good. He's been with his girlfriend for 4 months now (which is the longest he's been with *anyone* since I've known him), he.. wow. He just seemed to be doing so well. Our conversations usually never go that well. I finally grabbed a pen and paper and wrote down his phone number again (for he's moved back home and I no longer had that number). "Heather, I moved back home and we lost touch majorly, what the hell? I miss you!" Haha, I missed you, too. Rock on. It's really strange, but fantastic, how Jamie and I have held on to our friendship for so long after certain things and after other ridiculousness. We always told each other we'd never lose touch, and so far there's only been a gap but a phone call was made. I like that. I like how he's made the effort (I didn't have the phone number for months upon months so I couldn't really, I could have asked but I'm an idiot sometimes).

My parents need me home tonight for dinner, so I'm assuming more things will be discussed afterwards. The same thing, I'm sure, but elaborated further more. I can't remember what I fell asleep listening to last night.

April 03, 2003
8:02 PM  ()

Wow, I really can be a selfish asshole sometimes. And being that way makes me really want to go out tonight, get loaded, and end up in a big heap of nonsense somewhere in the snow BUT the fact that I realize that I don't really want to do this and I'm just being an ignorant fuck prevents me from pursuing this selfish asshole-ness to such an extent.

It's nights like these that I dream of cigarettes in my pockets that I just can't bring myself to light, and it's a night like this when I remember his writing and his voice inside my head saying "I am there". It's a night like this when I'll try to forgive myself for my ignorance and wish I had kept it to myself, wish I had said something else. It's a night like this when I realize that I really haven't had a night like this before and that scares me. "It hurts me..." I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I'll do what you ask of me, I'll do what I need to do. I don't want to hurt you, nor do I want to hurt anyone else. Although it feels endless, you're right and there is a solution. I will go there, I'll get this done and over with. I'll come to terms with whatever I have to come to terms with, I'll allow myself to understand more, and I'll allow myself to step out of this rut I've jumped into. I promise.

I look pretty today. I feel pretty, and I'm so pissed off that all I have done tonight so far is cry and think about myself. It's no sin or anything, but it's still aggrivating knowing you've allowed yourself to do it when you're quite against selfishness.

I want it to be April 8th so I could be recording Donnie Darko. Oh yeah, and I start working at DT's Diner next Wednesday. I have quite the writing on all of that which was typed frantically by me last night at some time. It's about someone saying "Anyone can be turned into a waitress." Do you have any idea how depressing that is? Haha, but it's extremely beneficial so it's a-okay!

2:41 AM  ()

My happiness for him is overpowering. So proud. So proud. Excellence.

Good sleep is hard to come by these days, comfort or no comfort. And tonight it seems difficult to sleep at all. For no particular reason, there's no thought or emotion keeping me awake. My mind wants to rest, my body wants to rest, but I'm far too uncomfortable. It's my spine. My back needs to be cracked badly. This is the reason I can not get comfortable. I can't crack my own back because it's impossible for me to do, every attempt I've ever made has failed. Agh, every position I try ends up with me feeling as though my spine is bending in unfortunate and abnormal ways (which is not too far from the truth) and ready to break. I'm pouting, and it's quite funny. I whimper every once in a while like a child and it's... it's actually really pathetic. Haha. I'M COLD. I'M TIRED. AND I'M NOT USED TO STAYING UP THIS LATE. whimperwhimper. The Man Who Wasn't There is playing on the television so I'll wander back over to my couch, bury my face into the pillows and pull the blanket over my head and listen. Maybe this'll help, oh please let it help. bah. sleep. want. now.

April 02, 2003
12:00 PM  ()

"All around me are familiar faces.
Worn out places, worn out faces.

Bright and early for the daily races.
Going nowhere, going nowhere.

Their tears are filling up their glasses.
No expression, no expression.

Hang my head I wanna drown my sorrow.
No tomorrow, no tomorrow.

And I find it kind of funny,
I find it kind of sad,
the dreams in which I'm dying
are the best I've ever had.
I find it hard to tell you,
I find it hard to take.
When people run in circles
it's a very very...
mad world.

Children waiting for the day they feel good.
Happy birthday, happy birthday.

When they feel the way that every child should,
sit and listen. Sit and listen.

Went to school and I was very nervous.
No one knew me, no one knew me.

Hello, teacher, tell me what's my lesson.
Look right through me, look right through me.

And I find it kind of funny,
I find it kind of sad,
the dreams in which I'm dying
are the best I've ever had.
I find it hard to tell you,
I find it hard to take.
When people run in circles
it's a very very...
mad world.

Enlargen your world.
Mad world." - Gary Jules, 'Mad World'

9:10 AM  ()

Tremendous shock as I walked into the living room and looked out the walkout windows to greet snow on the ground. This makes me so angry.

I don't think I slept much at all last night. I remember waking up from numerous dreams and finally looking at the clock. Red numbers formed into 3:15, morning. Waking up from numerous dreams occurs again until 7:30 and my back is aching like it's never ached before. Must make appointment with chiropractor. The only thing I remember in every single dream I had, someone was worried about me. I didn't like that. So they weren't really dreams, they were semi-nightmares. I remember blood as well, a lot of blood at one point but I'm not sure from what.

I wonder how many people are waiting on me...