the boy found me on myspace. it's his birthday and he's the big 21. he told me to call him and i complied. i didn't yell at him like i should have, like i wanted to yesterday and the day before that and the week before that and the month before that.
he apologised to me. for not being there, for not being--whatever, here. he gets a six-day break every three months, i think, but he can't travel over 150 miles...and i am seven hours away. but he apologised. after a few moments where we were silent, he abruptly brought it up. "i'm sorry i disappear for months at a time," he said. "that's my bad. i just want--you've got to understand, you've just got to wait around for me to resurface."
and i do, that's what i hate. i do understand and i do just wait idly by, wondering when he's coming back, and if he's coming back for me.
"jesus christ," he said at one point, "i have to get up in five hours and run seven miles."
"holy shit. i don't think i could run seven miles in, like, the course of seven days," i said. because really--seven miles. that's a fucking lot to be running at five in the morning.
he laughed and said, "nah, nah, i'll train you." i don't know why i find that so adorable. i laughed at him and he asked what was so funny. i couldn't even say anything.
he says "nah" and "mmhmm" a lot.
he made some crack about how i wouldn't want to see him anyway, how if he's even in dallas again (apparently he was here in the past several months but for, you know, army things) i wouldn't WANT to hang out with him. i told him he was crazy and he said i needed to go to bed.
cute.
we told each other goodnight and then there was a kind of weird moment where we tripped over each other trying to talk. he said "goodnight" again and i pointedly reminded him that he had already said it.
"don't be a dick," he said, and i could practically feel him grinning. "with us, there's no room for you to be a dick."
fuck, i love him.
fuck.
man, the train is coming through town. it's such a weird moment.
i don't want to get over love
i could listen to my therapist, pretend you don't exist
and not have to dream of what i dream of
i could listen to all my friends and go out again
and pretend it's enough
or i could make a career of being blue
i could dress in black and read camus
smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth
like i was seventeen--that would be a scream
but i don't want to get over you
so i found out today that i have done WAY MORE in college than i thought i had. by december, assuming i don't drop any of my classes, i'll only have 14 hours of school left. fourteen hours. FOURTEEN HOURS! OH MY GOD. i'm taking 12 right now. yesterday my schedule looked like this:
11:00 - 11:50 -- local government
12:00 - 12:50 -- composition I
1:00 - 1:50 -- basic nutrition (shut up. it replaces PE and i am determined to be a lazy bum.)
WHENEVER I WANT BECAUSE IT'S ONLINE, HAHA -- world lit I
however, NCTC (my stupid fucking community college) is idiotic and basically mislabelled grammar and composition (AKA english 1301, which i have already taken) as comp I. and they also put the wrong teacher down for it. BUT THAT IS ANOTHER STORY.
so, yeah, long story short--i had the wrong class on my schedule. so i was basically like, "SHIT SHIT FUCKER SHIT GODDAMN" and i had to go through a ton of shit (including leaving school and then DRIVING ALL THE WAY BACK) but it got sorted out. mostly.
so now my schedule looks like this:
11:00 - 11:50 -- local government
12:00 - 12:50 -- ABSOLUTELY JACK SHIT :(
1:00 - 1:50 -- basic nutrition
2:00 - 2:50 -- sociology
whenever, whereverrrr (uh, </shakira>) -- world lit I
SO THAT'S GR8.
and i suppose that, during my free period, i can do my homework for world lit (and government, since we're allowed to turn those assignments in online) in one of the computer labs. ...woo.
i was so fucking excited to only have to be at school for three hours. and now i am BACK TO FOUR. but i guess, like, whatever. at least i'll only have 14 hours left after this.
the problem is that this is what i will have left to take:
THREE hours of oral communication (read: speech.)
THREE hours of mathematics (read: hell on earth.)
EIGHT hours of lab/natural sciences (read: something i haven't had since my first semester of my senior year of high school...WHICH WAS IN THE YEAR 2004.)
in short, i am never going to get a fucking two-year degree.
i think i can take a minimester over the christmas break--i know they offer speech, maybe they offer, like...an easy math? like that exists, haha.
...sigh.
my dad wants me to go to UNT (the university of north texas: where my brother goes, and where his girlfriend is currently employed as a teacher), but i'm kind of leaning toward UT (university of texas at austin). it'd be kind of scary to actually be moving away, but i'd be INSANELY close to my best friend, and, well...
...living four hours away from my parents would be nice. and UNT is only half an hour away. the only thing keeping me from jumping right into UT (AKA applying to UT and hoping desperately that i get accepted) is that my parents would be like, "OMG PAY FOR YOUR OWN APARTMENT PLZ OR LIVE IN THE DORMS :D" and i really don't want to have to, you know, live with scary strangers.
...and i still kind of want to move to california and live with, probably, the best surrogate family i could ever ask for. i would love, love, love to live with ophelia and tora and all of them.
sigh. i need to go back to california. like, right now. i still have friends in california who i haven't met yet! and i neeeed to.
yeah, well. ...sigh.
and i can't stop listening to this song for some reason.
well, i can't stop talking for fear of listening to unwelcome sound
and you haven't called me in weeks and honestly, it's bringing me down
oh, i, i feel like i wouldn't like me if i met me
i, i feel like you wouldn't like me if you met me
and don't you worry; there's still time. don't you worry; there's still time
there's nothing to live for when i'm sleeping alone
and i wash the windows outside in hopes that the glare will bring you around...
...sunshine is days away, i won't be saved, i know all the words
i can't say that i'll love you forever.
sunshine is days away, i won't be saved, i know all the words
i won't say that i'll love you forever.
i don't really know what i'm doing--with this journal, with my life, with anything. my mom has been passive aggressive and bitchy and weird about everything for the past several days. i've been trying to be nice and compliment her on everything i can think of--everything from her jewellery to the food she's decided to cook for dinner. but she keeps saying i sound "aggravated" and "like i want [her] to drop off the face of the planet." i don't know what else i can do. i don't know how to make her happy. i guess i never have.
when i went to mississippi, i bought books for the first time in a while. i got tad williams' war of the flowers, nick hornby's a long way down, and laura gave me her copy of american gods because she got it for, like, two dollars used or something. she says she's been trying to get rid of her books because she wants to buy more but doesn't have room for them. i've started war of the flowers and oh my god oh my god oh my god, i love tad williams. the prologue was a bit weird but dude--i love urban fantasy. i FUCKING. LOVE. urban fantasy. i just bought it because it was tad williams and i wanted something to read in the car on the way home from mississippi. IMAGINE MY DELIGHT WHEN I FOUND THAT IT WAS--wait for it--URBAN FANTASY.
tad williams is so good at writing people. i mean, like--real people. i don't know. and he's so good at spinning stories about things that could never in a million years happen except that maybe they could and therein lies the AWESOMEOSITY. i love him. love him! the otherland series, oh my god. ...i love him. okay, i am done talking about him now.
i'm excited about the nick hornby book, too. i loved about a boy and although i haven't read the book, i loooove the movie high fidelity. i am abusing italics in this post, like whoa.
random thought: i hate it when people spell "whoa" as "woah." it is ugly and stupid. KIND OF LIKE YOUR MAMA.
i reallyreallyreally want the next holly black book to come out. and i want cassie claire's first book to come out. I WANT EVERYTHING. most of all, i want to write my own book. and have book signings! and feel like i've accomplished something for the first time in my life.
school starts next monday and i don't want to go back.
i am so tired that i can't continue this without drifting into, like, motherfucking stream of consciousness or some shit. AND AS MUCH AS I LIKE FAULKNER (read: not at all), i don't think that would be very fun.
so. to bed i go!
EDIT -- i also bought season two of veronica mars while i was in mississippi--on the 19th, actually...and i thought it didn't even come out until today, the 22nd. i just kind of stared at it on the shelf in best buy for a few moments, not really understanding what was going on. laura was all, "is that...?"
to which i replied, "...i think it--OH MY GOD," and then snatched it off the shelf and squealed in delight. and that is my second use of the word "delight" in this post.
i'm going to bed this time...really.
today's the day i realised that i could be loved
it echoed through the park last night:
'he wasn't our son; he belonged to everyone.'
and this loss isn't good enough for sorrow or inspiration
it's such a loss for the good guys, afraid of this life
that it just is
'cause everybody
dies.
your damn friend: i went to the doctor
your damn friend: and he gave me like
your damn friend: this eyedrop
your damn friend: with like
your damn friend: steroids and an antibiotic or something idk
your damn friend: he was like IDK WHAT'S WRONG! :D
jay: wow...
jay: LMAO
jay: BUT TAKE STEROIDS!!
your damn friend: yes
jay: HAHAHAHAhahahahHAaAaAAa
your damn friend: LMFAO
jay: is what he said
jay: yes
your damn friend: the steroids are for the swelling
your damn friend: or
your damn friend: something
jay: steroids decrease swelling?
your damn friend: according to my eye doctor!
jay: you sure that was the real doctor? Like, he didn't reschedule you for 30 minutes before your appointment? As you walked out, did you notice a doctor walking toward your room while the "eye doctor" jumped out the window and into his '87 Volvo?
your damn friend: LMFAO
and that is my day so far.
now i get to hop in the car with my brother, his girlfriend, and my father and mother, and drive eight hours to mississippi. AWESOME, except not really, at all. my eye hurts like a bitch and i want it to JUST STOP HURTING RIGHT NOW, PLEASE.
every time someone asks what's wrong i say, "it feels like i was punched in the eye." it's weird to know what that feels like from experience. THE EXPERIENCE OF HAVING BEEN HIT IN THE EYE.
oh, childhood. we had such good times together.
...i would kill for some sweet tea right now.
your damn friend: i want another cat
your damn friend: i love kittiessss
your damn friend: i want like
your damn friend: three
your damn friend: billion
your damn friend: cats
jay: and NO children...
your damn friend: children are too needy
your damn friend: and sloppy...
your damn friend: and unnerving
jay: so you want to be the creepy old cat-lady that lives alone in some shanty and has crazy eyes...
your damn friend: yes
your damn friend: that is my dream
jay: LMAO
the story of my life.
i feel a lot better right now than i did 24 hours ago. or 48, or 72 hours ago. so that's good--i don't know, i find that i don't really have times anymore where i feel genuinely good. i mean, i feel fine sometimes, even happy--i don't think that 'good' and 'happy' are the same thing, necessarily. i just never sit down and think about how good i feel, how perfect any one moment is. every day just gets worse and worse, it seems, and i just feel more and more like i'm never going to get anywhere with my life.
it's official now that my parents don't want to pay for out-of-state tuition--which is not what they said when i graduated high school. gone are the days of "anywhere you want to go, we'll put you there!" and in their place are the days of "if you fuck up this time you aren't going back to school until you can pay for it yourself."
i'm sick of dealing with my dad, who doesn't care if i'm happy because the only thing that matters to him is that i am successful. sometimes people don't want to make over $100,000 dollars a year, sometimes they just want to live life at their own pace. i just want to make a little money, take a class or two, go on some roadtrips! i want to go to europe and see everything! i want to travel and visit friends i've never met before. i want to drive--just drive--somewhere, anywhere.
i want to get out of texas. i want to see snow, and trees. i want to experience autumn for the first time since i was seven. i want to see the chesapeake bay again! i want to walk around annapolis and eat ice cream.
but then i have this nagging doubt that the only reason i want those things is because i haven't had them for so long--that if i moved back north, back east, to the first place i remember loving and the only place i ever felt at home...i'd be disappointed.
i've been disappointed by other things i thought were constants in my life.
i don't want to move back and realise it isn't everything that i remember, that the gold and red of the trees isn't as beautiful as i recall. i don't want to not like winter, i want to roll around in the snow like i did when i was a kid. i want to enjoy life!
and i'm starting to fear that i won't be able to do that anywhere.
i'm starting to feel like nobody's ever going to understand me or like me or love me and god, god, god--it scares me.
it's just that i feel stuck in this american town
i finally got a good job; it'd just be dumb to move now
so some days i can hardly move
much less move away
today mostly sucked. i don't know. i guess it didn't.
my dad's office is getting a new cell phone plan, which means we're switching from cingular back to t-mobile and getting new phones. i am totally getting a neon pink razr because my dad is too lame to get me a sidekick. EVEN THOUGH I WANT ONE REALLY BADLY. jerk.
i guess it'll match the pink laptop i'm (trying to) save money for. whatevz.
i went to work from 4:30 to 8:30 (i was first cut out of three, so i got cut early) and we were trying this "NEW AND IMPROVED" method of hosting that did not work AT. ALL. basically i had to stand at the door handing out pagers and taking names while josh and kelsey, the other hosts, kept me up to date as tables were opening. the problem is that it takes fucking forever because i had to take the name, then tell josh and kelsey we had a person on wait. they had to check to see what tables were getting up soon, and relay that information over to me (we all wear headsets so we can communicate easier). then, when there was finally an open table, they had to tell me what table it was so i would know how many people to sit there. THEN, i would have to tell josh or kelsey what pager to call and how many the party was (because the pager system is hooked up in the host stand and can't be moved. it's also massive, so you wouldn't want to move it...).
it's so much easier if you just do it all ate the stupid host stand. then one person can hold the door and greet guests, one person can manage the wait list/seating chart, and the third host can seat tables. THERE. DONE.
also, the pagers start beeping if they're in close proximity to other pagers--if one pager can sense a second pager almost-but-not-quite stacked into it, it starts beeping to notify you that it isn't on the charger. and we had all the pagers in a huge bowl because i was handing them out right at the front door, rather than at the host stand.
the entire system was fucking stupid and i have talked about it way too much.
then my dad made me walk my mother's dogs at like, 9:15, after i got home--at which point it was pitch black outside. when i asked him why he didn't walk them when it was still light outside, all he said was, "you weren't here to do it then."
my family is fucking crazy.
on the positive side, i think i talked my mom into getting me this! so that's cool. pearls + diamonds = awesome, in my book. it looks so dainty and delicate. PRETTY. *grabby hands!*
i am so going to sleep now.
oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
i'm getting old and i need something to rely on
so tell me when you're gonna let me in
i'm getting tired and i need somewhere to begin
so if you have a minute, why don't we go
talk about it somewhere only we know
this could be the end of everything
so why don't we go, so why don't we go
i have to find a dress to wear to my grandmother's memorial service. i asked my father if we were only taking one car with five people inside plus all of their luggage (including funeral garb). my mom walked into the room and said there would be six people in the car because "grandma will be there too!"
CREEPY.
as much as i love my family, i really don't want to be stuck with my entire immediate family plus my brothers girlfriend, IN A CAR, for 16 hours out of one weekend. and i definitely don't want to spend any time with MY CREMATED GRANDMOTHER. at all. ever. so i really don't see how taking one car is a good idea at all. oh my god.
who decided this was a good idea?! really, i'd like to know.
in other news, psych is kind of a funny show. it's sad to say that my favourite parts of all the episodes are the little karaoke/blooper moments at the very end. cute.
the big "Hi sara" at the top of the compose page kind of freaks me out. there is no comma for direct address and the font is large and ungainly. actually, most of the text on vox is oversized. i guess they are catering to the senior internet population. because i know so many of my friends in the aarp are just itching for vox accounts.
to suddenly change subjects...hopefully, this journal will become my new home. i don't know. maybe? i mean, you know, my e-home. i find it hard to write anything where anyone can read it. but i think maybe posting publicly for once would help me get over that--and i need to get over it because, let's face it, i am a fucking coward.
how do you do it?
