Date:	2002-08-26 23:03
Subject:	Whoo!
Security:	Public
Mood:	worried
Music:	The Thunder Monkies- Hostile Gerbils

So today, i grew my first embryonic balls.

Okay, well, not really. I already had a zygote gestating in my womanhood, the zygote of soemthing resembling balls, but nothing comparable to Heather's massive, pulsating, purplish hanging balls.

Today, after much persuading, I called Ryan. Ryan, ryan, ryan. WHOO. It was an awkward conversation to say the least. He was the type who, after every time I spoke, seemed consitently surprised that I was actually talking to *him*, even though we *were* on the phone together. And when I asked him if he wanted to do "something", he was like "..........Yeah." Very unconvincing. I was worried that he was only doing this to be nice, because he couldn't say no to us or something, but regardless, Heather Brian and I picked him up. I saw the tiniest inside bit of his house. FUCKING AWESOME HOUSE. Jesus! It's so huge and....marble-tiled. But anyway.

We picked him up, he was looking mighty delicious, and i threw him against the car and made out with him.

What actually happened was I picked him up, he was looking mighty delicious, and we pondered for a few moments where to go "hang out" for five hours until he had to be home for his drum lesson. We all decided to go to the mall. Which is what he said he usually did normally, that he went to the mall and did nothing for hours. Sounded like a plan. So we did that, messed around with various hats and cameras, ate, and eventually left to go to Musician's Alley. Before that, though, we saw *tons* of people we knew. That's one of the reasons I don't like going to the mall. There are a select group of people I don't mind seeing in public. THe people we saw were not in that group. Well, okay, Ashley is. And so is Emily and Caitlyn. Emily and Caitlyn, by the way, seemed quite surprised that the boy I had been gushing about so frequently at Band Camp had suddenly been seen *in public* with me at the mall. Outside of school. Yep.

So after that we went to Musician's Alley, messed around with guitars for a bit, slothed around, and then ended up taking Ryan home. The hours passed very quickly. I was in a perpetual state of bliss. He is SO CUTE. I don't mean to sound like, shallow 13-year-old here, but...he is really cute. He was really withdrawn and didn't say a *whole lot*, but then again, Heather Brian and I can like, talk the dickens out of people. (Talk the dickens?! okay....) When he did say stuff, it was funny. I really want to get to know him, a lot better. I want to be his friend. Really, really bad.
By the time we took him home he looked a *little* too happy to be there....but I guess- okay, I'm HOPING- that it was because Sandusky is a BORING-ASS town and it doesn't really matter what you do, it's still boring. Heather, Brian and I can amuse ourselves for hours by nothing. But then again that's just us. I really hope Ryan is still interested in hanging out with us...that he doesn't think we're lame ass Juniors or something. I don't know, maybe I'm just hoping that he would be interested in getting to know *me* too, that I intrigued him in some way. Probably not though. I'm hoping that Nick, Ryan, Heather, me, and whoever else from the band or otherwise wants to, can start hanging out after the games. Because we have fun *then*. Plus I think Ryan might feel a little bit more comfortable with one of his good friends around (read: Nick).

So, everybody, hope for the best. NOW. Because I really like this stupid kid. God. I don't even know *why*.

Date:	2002-08-24 18:38
Subject:	Take it or leave it
Security:	Public
Mood:	infuriated
Music:	The Strokes- Take it or Leave it

WHOO.

I'm back. Finally. I can't remember what my last post was about...um, well, basically i was gone for a bitch-ass long time. I was at that Cumberland trip, and then at BAND camp...whoo. Anyway. I suppose I could give a brief synospis of what has happened to me recently. Most of it isn't good. Oh joy.

Well I went to Lake Cumberland, which is almost directly south of me, in Kentucky, yet mysteriously in the Central time zone. Crazy shit, I know. It was my mother, my step father and I, plus four other couples. Two of the other couples had small children. There was one other girl my age on teh boat, the niece of Melissa, my mom's friend who had come with her husband and two boys. Cassie, the 16 yo, was pretty cool. I hung out with her a lot, as I had no choice seeing as how I was floating in the middle of a huge-ass lake in the middle of Kentucky in the central time zone. (The central time point must always be included, because it's just so WEIRD. I mean, its almost DIRECTLY SOUTH of me. COME ON, HERE) Anyway, the trip was going along okay- I had fun when i was away from my mom and greg, only because they still treat me like I'm 6 fucking years old and that I cannot grasp any concept unless they impound it into my head 50 billion times in their sickeningly condescending voices. Greg had brought his laptop for me to use, because I *thought* he had FINALLY understood at least the most basic thing about me- that I write practically everyday, and if I don't write almsot everyday, I will grow to be bitchy and reclusive, and that is not a good thing. It's just what I like to do. It's fun. And this was supposed to be a vacation. But obviously, he thought that my hideously sporadic and rare use of the laptop made me appear to be some craven anti-socialite that was to not be associated with, because I was reprimanded on several differnt occasions for me "wanton" use of the laptop. (I used it at night. In my bedroom. When everybody was either sleeping or out on the deck drinking and playing cards. Excuse me for my intolerable insolence.)

Aside from that, it came up in conversation the concert I'd attended days previous with heather and brian and thom. What actually came up was not the heart-stoppingly good time I had, but the "sleeping arrangements" in the hotel we stayed at afterward. Probably the most inconsequential detail in the whole world. BUT. My mother insisted, she kept insisting, that she knew every single detail about what had gone on there that night, and she found out that i "slept" with Brian and Thom. IN THE SAME BED, NO LESS. That computes to, in her mind, that we had an orgy, or we slept naked, or that I was raped in my sleep, while Heather's mother slept amicably in the next bed over, not caring at all. Which is exactly what DID NOT happen.

I looked at it like this- I went to a concert, and afterward I went to a hotel room with my friends and slept. I did NOT look at it like her, which was "there was a 16 year old girl in a bed with two 16 year old boys". Which, in most contexts, IS a scary thing. But it was BRIAN and THOM. My two really really good friends. FRIENDS. Not maniacs, psychopaths, or hideously immature boys who ONLY think about sex. My FRIENDS. I see them asexually, almost. I mean, Brian and Thom both slept on top of the covers with their OWN blankets, and I slept beneath the hotel sheet. Not only that, but Heather's mother WAS in the room, as was Heather's sister. And Heather herself. If there was going to be any late-night groping, it surely would not have been executed at that point in time.

Anyway, my mother was highly embarassed- that was the whole thing. She had to keep persuing the issue, making HERSELF look like an idiot, in front of Melissa and Cassie. If she had just shut up and let it sit until later, when we could have talked privately, things might have turned out differently. But instead she sat there and publicly ostracized meand made me feel like an idiot and like I'm some horrible teenage scum for innocently sleeping with my friends. She was incredibly immature about it, too, threatening "I'm going to tell you dad!" and repeatedly exclaiming "I can't believe this!". I just kinda shrugged it off and silently hated her.

Later that day, I was called to the top of the houseboat for a "private talk" with my mom and Greg. They always hold these stupid discussions whenever I get "out of line." The last spat we had was about how I left a plate of Chinese food next to the sink. I had forgotten to clean it off because I was in a hurry to leave the house and get on my way back to Sandusky. Apparently, I had apalled Greg by my blatant rudeness and I got the vague impression that I should treat my mother's house as though I'm a stranger in it. Not her *daughter*. But in THIS discussion we talked about the thing with Brian and Thom, and i started crying because they always gang up on me like that, they always make me question myself and make me feel like I can't do anything without questioning it twenty billion times or wondering who I might be silently offending. They brought up a million different issues- earlier that day I had been reading a book in the boat while Greg tubed some kids. It was hideously windy and sunny out, and usually when we're going that fast I don't talk because it hurts to look up from my lap because of the BLINDING SUN. So i read, instead. And then he told me, rather rudely i thought, that I had to put the book away because it was inconsiderate and, he thought, very rude of me to be reading. WELL FUCKING DIE AND EXCUSE ME. Can I do *anything* correctly? That answer is no. I can't. They critized me ONCE MORE for being the horrible anti-social girl that I am, even though I talked to EVERYONE on that house boat, without knowing ANYBODY, and had many intriguing conversations with several people on the boat. His response was "Nobody has ever heard of somebody reading a book on a ski boat." My response was "...WHat?! What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" What DOES that mean? WHO THE FUCK CARES?! I'm not LIKE everybody else. Jesus, if this is a vacation, I can't take ten minutes to read my book????

So after that "discussion" i stayed away from them, left for Sandusky hastily, and put up with a hideous eye twitch that wouldn't leave. She stressed me out SO MUCH that my eye twitched non stop for days. I actually did a test. I thought about Douglas Adams and his great skill as a writer and it stopped. I thought about my mom and the houseboat trip and it started again. When i got home, my dad was absolutely cool about the whole thing. My mom had called him, as she promised, and basically ranted about me for an hour about all these stupid tiny things that I had done to offend her in some way. My dad blew her off and trusted me. He totally thought she was over-reacting, and thank GOD i have at least one sane parent or else I'd probably shoot myself. I have NEVER done ANYthing to warrant such spastic reaction from her. She hardly even knows me, to begin with. She wants me to live HER life, how SHE does things. Well I am NOT her, i don't have to socialize with people every fucking minute of the day and be fake. I'd rather write and talk to people that I actually enjoy. I mean, it almost seems like she just wanted to feel like a normal parent, to be able to harp on me for some hideous behavior and exercise control over me. Well, i didn't even DO anything, first of all. And she really doesn't need to add such needless drama into my life.

After that trip I went straight to band camp. It was pretty fun. I mean, we marched about 10 hours a day a few days a week, but I met a boy named Ryan and i really like him. I want to get to know him. He's a redhead, and I never thought I'd ever like redheads. But he is the cutest thing I've ever seen and if i do not get him, I will die. Every school year I have to have SOMETHING to look forward to- like a huge, pulsating crush of sorts. Well, I found my crush. It really releives the monotony of the school year. Because if i dont have someone to look for between classes, someone to look forward to, like, somebody NEW, then I'd probably just shoot myself. Every year I've done this, and it really makes things fun. LOL. He's a freshman, though, so things could get interesting. He seems like he's really fucking cool, and he and his friend Nick seem like they'd be really cool to hang out with. That's all I want from him right now, is to hang out with him.

Okay, so now I'm all worked up again about my mom. It just makes me so upset. I have no desire to speak to her. I'll probably cry. I hope she feels really bad about how she blew up at me. She should feel bad about it.

I'm working on my novel now. It's almost done. ALMOST DONE. Then i can send it and the synopsis off to a publisher and hopefully get lots of money. Of course. Let's just cross our fingers. School starts on Thursday and I don't want it to. We can't have any fucking bookbags this year and I swear to god, i will incite a riot the first day I unexpectedly start my period and have no tampon with me because i dont have my fucking bookbag with me. Swear to god.

Your Ass is Gay!

I'm so happy to say.

That your ass is gay.

So come on over,

And I'll stick it today.



What Ass Do *You* Have??

Do *You* Need A Boob Job?

Date:	2002-08-11 20:28
Subject:	Ohhhhh yeah
Security:	Public
Mood:	weird
Music:	Fugazi- Styrofoam

I have fallen into deep love with the Strokes album. Not to say I wasn't already in LOVE with their music, but now it's just been intensified SO MUCH since the concert. I mean, it's indescribable. I don't even know what this feeling is inside me...I've tried verbalizing it on more than one occasion and it comes out sounding a lot different than what I want. I can't...speak...well...not since the concert. It paralyzed the left side of my brain. Not really. But, I mean, I just loved the concert so much. I think it's been....eh...I think the best concert I've ever been to. Well, it's high up there. That's for fucking sure. Everything about the atmosphere of the concert was so great (minus a few "bitchy fan" incidents...*ahem* Heather. WHAT WAS THEIR PROBLEM, WE WERE SELLING TICKETS) I just liked feeling like...accepted. Not that acceptance is ANYthing i strive for. I liked feeling...gregarious? I can't even find the right word for it. Maybe I just liked the feeling that knowing that almost everybody there was at least cool in some way, because we were all united through these bands. And that I could pretty much bypass the whole "weeding out" process of getting to know most other people, where you find out if they're "your type" of person or not. I'm betting that most of the people at that concert were "my type." Basically. I'm so bad at articulation. Let me try another approach.

It's this mysterious, unvocalized feeling that I have that is making it so difficult to go back to school for me this year. Not that it would have been difficult if I hadn't attended the concert. But with this new sense of....*enigmatic emotion* it's making it really hard to even contemplate going back to school where there are so many people I just would really rather NOT have to put up with. I remember History being SO horrible last year because I had ONE friend in that class, and I didn't even talk to him that much...and it wasn't the fact that I didn't have any friends in the class that bothered me, it was the fact that I was surrounded by THE HUGEST PRICKS IN THE WORLD (Chris Lawrence, Correy Scally, etc.) who would just nag, bitch, whine, moan about EVERY FUCKING LITTLE THING, and then they'd complain about football, and wrestling, and....ugh. Then whenever something remotely "weird" happened, all the stupid assholes would gather in the class and whisper about it and make whoever did something different feel completely and totally ostracized. I don't like that small, close-mindedness...I don't even know if it's *that*, but whatever it is (yet again, another enigmatic emotion) I can't stand to go back to it.
This entry is kind of jumping around from the concert to back-to-school with no apparent correlation, but I swear to god there is some latent connection that has yet to appear. I'm just NOT GOOD AT WRTIING.

*sigh* I want to go to more concerts. GOOD concerts. I'd like to see a Vines concert, but they don't have any dates near me. I'd fucking love to see Travis again- but I'm not sure about their tour. Oasis is completely out of the question, because the one concert I could have gone to is sold out, plus during band camp. I would have given a limb to go to that concert, too. Cibo Matto is another band that really intrigues me, but I don't know how stunning they would be live, seeing as how a lot of their music is like, synth. Fugazi, always the auditory delight, might be too moshy to pleasantly view. I can take suffocation any day, but I'd like to stay away from the moshing.

I don't know. I'm leaving for the next two weeks. I'm leaving for Cumberland tomorrow morning at like, 6 am, and then its off to band camp. Glorious...band camp. Right.

Date:	2002-08-09 18:45
Subject:	Holy mother fucking HELL
Security:	Public
Mood:	bouncy
Music:	Strokes- Is This It

I got back from Pontiac today. Wanna know why? I bet you do.


Cuz i was at the White Stripes/Strokes concert. Yes. I was. OH MY GOD.

We got to Clutch Cargo's like, 4 hours early and we kinda sat around for awhile, basking in the sun and wondering what to do with our four extra tickets. Brian and I got Subway for us and Thom and Heather- and then we ate. While we had gone out to get food the White Stripes began their SOUND CHECK and, ugh, apparently Jack was really funny. So, anyway, a little bit later Thom and Brian went to go "take a walk" and i think only a few minuts later they came RUNNING back toward us shrieking "oh my god, come here you guys, right now, run run" and so we did. I thought they had found somebody to buy our extra tickets. But no. JACK WHITE WAS BEHIND THE BUILDING AND WE WERE GOING TO MEET HIM.

AND SO WE DID. WE MET JACK WHITE. He was so nice. He was wearing all black, and he had a pack of cigarettes stuck beneath one of his shirt sleeves. Aww! Heather asked him if she could meet her, and he said "no bitch, move out the way". Kidding. He said "Sure!" And so she itnroduced herself and we got a picture with him (YES, A PICTURE! I WAS NEXT TO HIM UNGH) and then we all got his signature. I got him to sign my orange Chuck Taylor's. WHICH IS SO COOL. Because now my chucks are forever immortilized with his signature. (well at least until it rains and the sig. runs.) ANYWAY. After that we went back to the front of the club and freaked out for a few more hours. Then heather and I ventured back to the back of the building to see if we might be so lucky *again*. Well, we were, in a way- Each member of THE STROKES went walking by the back door, only a foot away from us, and we waved and gawked and had a good time seeing them. Julien was so funny because, well, in his perpetual state of cripple-dom, he just kinda hobbled by on his crutches, going -step THUMP step THUMP step THUMP- It was amusing. We met a dude named Rob, who was really cool at first but then turned out to be a major elbow-freak later on in the concert.

ANYWHOO. Finally the doors opened at 7:10, and we got patted down and made our way to the front of the stage. We weren't dead center, but we were the very first row (as we always are) kinda toward the left. I felt bad for Thom, who was right IN FRONT of the speaker, and seeing as how I'm pretty deaf right now, he must be like...super deaf. But anyway. We held our ground for an hour or so until the concert started toward 8:30 or 9. And then, THE STROKES came out WHOOOOOOOOO!! They were so awesome- Julian was so cute, he's the best performer. He did all these cute exrpessions and gestures and aahhhh lol. He and I made eye contact a lot- and yeah, I know people could be really stupid and be like "OH MY GOD HE LOOKED AT ME" but i made sure to be really obnxious so that he actually pointed at me a few times and made EYES at me, ha. That was a highlight of the evening, definitely. I really got into their music- it's just so GOOD. I love it. Anyway- Al was awesome on the guitar, and so was Nick. Nickoli REALLY looks like my old math teacher, Mrs. Cummings, when you see his silhoutte. It's REALLY FUNNY. it was just the bowl cut hair or something....i dont know. But anyway, didn't see Fab too much, what with being hidden behind the massive guards' heads and his drumset.

After the strokes were done, the guards were passing out the set lists...and I GOT ONE. HAAAA. THe guard chose me to give it to. There were tons of hands reaching for the set list and he was teasing us...and then he folded it up and pressed it into my hand. FUCK YA'LL. Heather got one too. Hers was moist afterward, though (and we're not sure if it was from the sweat, and bottled water, or her crotch.)

it wasn't long before the white stripes came out and UNGH! I think this performance was a lot better than the first one I saw. For one, i thought Jack was a lot more into it. Meg, well, she played pretty much the same, still cute as hell, but Jack did a lot of like.....improv stuff on the guitar. Maybe it wasn't improv. But it sure was fucking awesome. They played more songs that I didn't immediately know this time. I can't remember the names. Maybe it's cuz i don't KNOW the names...But yeah. Jack was just supremely awesome. I caught myself just standing and staring at him playing the guitar more than really rocking out. Also, if I wanted to REALLY rock out, i didn't really have the opportunity as i was being SUFFOCATED in the front row. The pressure against the front row was horrific. I mean, i had this huge 6'3 guy pressed up against my back during the whole Strokes set and it really hurt after awhile. I now have bruises in sporadic places on my body. My ribs REALLY fucking hurt from being pressed up against the railing. But it was worth it. I think the front row is actually the safest place to be because anywhere else, you're at the mercy of those around you. With nothing to hold onto!

Anyway, before the Encore for the WS set, Brian and Thom left because they got word that the bands would be out back, meeting people, after the concert. So they left to get spots. Heather and I stayed to get merchandise: i got a shirt and a buncha pins. Then we went out to meet Brian and Thom and waited awhile. I had my orange shoe ready for ANYBODY to sign. I also changed into the shirt i got while i was waiting because the one i had come in was SOAKED with sweat and water the guards were pouring on people. It was gross. It ended up that the Strokes came out, but only Nickolai stopped to sign anything. So i got his signature on my other shoe. Brian Thom and Heather all got his signature too. Brian got his pen, i think, as well. Good find. Nobody else came out of interest, or stopped to sign anything. We did make friends with a really sensitive security guard. I only call him "really sensitive" because when he was guarding us rabid fans from breaking into the back of the club, he was simultaneously reading a novel. Actually, HE FINISHED ONE. And then he started a NEW ONE. Jeez. So we got out picture with him. He was cool. After all that, everything was pretty much over adn we waited by the front for Heahter's mom to come. We talked to some of the roadies for the bands and, well, I TRIED talking to this one chinese chik that i had seen with the bands earlier in the evening, but i was so deaf I couldn't hear anything she was saying. my ears are still ringing. My ears are sensitive. Heather's mom came and got us then, and we went back to the hotel. Which was a lot of fucking fun because everyone was so slaphappy, except Heather i think who just wanted to sleep, and Heather's mom and sister are SO AMUSING. I just couldn't stop laughing...at nothing, really. But anyway, during the night Brian was really funny because he'd stop his RAMPANT SNORING every so often to mutter something in his sleep. He commented about the balls on the cartoon characters on the TV once, i think, and then he said out of nowhere "Slowly and quietly." LOL! WHAT IS THAT?!


I think I should wrap up this entry. Basically, I'm feeling pretty fucking excited STILL and i hate Sandusky because i've been brought back to reality. I wish i could forever live in post-concert excitement. Or even pre-concert excitement, because when you're at good concerts you're just with a lot of COOL people, and you feel comfortable, and then you come back to reality/Sandusky and look around and see Shannon Davidson or some other really annoying person and get pissed off. It happend to me today. Arghh.

I gotta go. I hope I covered everything.

UNGHHHHHHHHH!

So I've actually gotten some stuff done. I got out my sax, practiced it (albeit for like, FIVE MINUTES because its SO SUCKY!!!!), and then I finished my letter to Stu, THANK GOD!!! And now, what's left? Oh yes, only 6 trillion things, but yet. Two are done. I'm about to head up to my room and pack a small bag for Detroit and the concert. And then I might get out my huge Band Camp tub thing and put some stuff in there. That reminds me, i should really go shopping for like, clothing and stuff, but- haha, I don't have ANY money. And even if I did, I have zero time in which to buy things. I really want to get some tank tops for band camp. And maybe like, another pair of fucking shorts, seeing as I only have ONE PAIR. JESUS. This is really stressing me out. I mean, I've been living on one pair of shorts the whole summer. That's just friggin WEIRD. But anyway. I don't know what I'll do next. Maybe I'll go practice my new Rachmaninoff song. It's pretty fun. Very power-chordy. And I should really do my finger exercises because I was playing my other Rachmaninoff song, the famous Prelude, and I was stumbling so badly over the long runs and I just get so frustrated at my lack of ability to properly coordinate my 4th and 5th fingers. I swear to god, I'm going to do those exercises. (In all reality, i won't. I always tell myself this.)

So maybe my next course of action should be to get a huge garbage bag and throw away tons of shit in my bedroom. That sounds SOOO fulfilling. I must. I'm going. Ta- ta.

Date:	2002-08-06 21:58
Subject:	God
Security:	Public
Mood:	frustrated
Music:	Oasis- Roll With It

I make extensive To-Do lists while I'm at work. Usually, I come home and none of it gets done. BUT TONIGHT IT'S ALL GETTING DONE. ALL OF IT. ALL-OF-IT. God, and ANNA NICOLE can shut the fuck up with her damn show, she sounds like the biggest air head since...I don't KNOW who. I really wish my dad would turn it off. But anyway. I'm going to practice my fuckin' saxophone tonight. You know, so I can ATTEMPT to play the music before band camp. I'm also going to write to Stu. STU, I LOVE YOU. And i have been so bad about getting back to her, but I have like, NOT been home. So, what else am I going to do? Well, I'm going to PACK- I might as well just live out of suitcases...because that's what I've been doing for like, the whole summer. I have to pack for the goddamn Cumberland "vacation" (which is more like a STRESS, because i get home the DAY before band camp probably around 7 or 8, and I have to then pack a huge ass suitcase for band camp.) So yeah, I'm gonna start packing for band camp. And then I'll start my Concert Bag, for the White Stripes/Strokes concert. That shouldn't be much to pack though. Probably just underwear. lol. Or maybe not... But anyway, after that, or maybe BEFORE that, i'm going to clean my room. THAT'S RIGHT FUCKERS, I'm CLEANING my ROOM. JESUS i hate it. It's so fucking MESSY. WHen i have a messy room, i feel messy on the inside. And i don't like feeling messy on the inside. Thank god it's cool out tonight so that when I'm upstairs, toiling away mercilessly cleaning out my junk-haven/bedroom, i won't die of heat exhaustion.

BUT, OH! The thing that really de-motivates me is the fact that my boss told me to come in like, 2 hours earlier tomorrow. I DON'T FUCKIN WANNA!!!! Jesus, she always does this. I'll be scheduled to come in at five, she'll ask me to come in at two. Well, tomorrow I'm supposed to go in at three, and now she's convinced me to come in at one. Although I'm going in at one-thirty, I WILL SHOW HER! Dude, i don't even wake up till noon, naturally.


Unnnnnngh. Must...get...things...done...NOW.


God i don't wanna go to band camp. This stupid cabin thing is a bunch of shit. I REFUSE TO BE A PLANET. Who needs a fuckin' theme for their fuckin' cabin? Not me. And i sure as hell am not bringing a "tubberware box" full of planetary decorating materials. I think I have better things to do. Which I just mentioned in my paragraphs above.

I'm going now. To do what I said I would do. I really hope I don't end up collapsing in the front room, watching Bridget Jones's Diary and hating myself.

Date:	2002-08-06 19:53
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	aggravated
Music:	Oasis- the whole Morning Glory cd

I'm on my break from work, and my thong is riding up my ass. It's polka-dot. Doesn't really help matters, but at least it's cute.


I have so many things to do. I should be driving back to work, but I'm not. That's just one thingout of thousands that I have to do. I have 6 trillion things to do and about 3 days in which to do it. I am so pissed. I hate August.

I'll write more later.

MY SHOES CAME IN THE MAIL YESTERDAY. HURRAH!!! The person i bought them from was like, such a good seller. She's a Power Seller on E-bay. It was a very good first experience for me on E-bay. Because if she had sold me those shoes and then they would have never arrived, I'd probably have...killed her. Or something else drastic like that. Right now they're sitting in my shoe pile, with various sandals and flame shoes, and my other two pairs of chuck taylors, the blue and black ones. They feel very welcome here.

I just need some lo mein.

Donnie Darko is a VERY GOOD movie. Awesome, Heather, purely awesome. (And yes, I'm still aroused from that boy's obscene making-out talent.) God, the bunny! Anyway.

Based on Heather's idea, which was making a list of....stuff...in her dream boy/next boyfriend, I decided to kind of...make one of those, too. Because everybody knows how IMPORTANT it is to have a clear idea of your dream mate.
Anyway.
I really want my boyfriend to drive around with me downtown, except he's the type that doesn't feel the need to be blaring music or talking constantly. He can just sit there, gazing out the window (or at me?) without having to pass it off as an inexplicable mood swing because quiet contemplation is so unlike him. I also think that an important quality is that of mild delusional schizophrenia. (LOL heather...) Well, maybe not. But i want him to be really genuine and innocent and eager and...Donnie? Argh. Anyway, another thing which really tops my "THIS IS IMPORTANT" list is CONTROL. ha-ha-ha, you all say. But control is very important. Not control in the manipulative power-hungry sense, but in the sense that he can control his emotions and doesn't anger easily. I'd also like him to make evil look *really* good. Oh, and be such a phenomenal kisser that if I see him making out with a stuffed animal, I get so hot I just have to have him right then and there. (Although the making-out-with-the-stuffed-animal bit might not be such a turn on...) I'm really counting on Mary's advice that I'll find another boyfriend this year. She says your Junior year is the IT year. God, i hope so. I think holding hands is so sexy. I want to do that again. And hugs are probably the best thing invented since like, toilet paper. (but only the really long, close hugs with guys.)

I must sound so pathetic. I don't care. I DON'T CARE. I just really want to meet some new guy. Guhhhhh. I'm going to work on my smut novel. That always cures things.

Date:	2002-07-31 00:13
Subject:	What's wrong here?
Security:	Public
Mood:	accomplished
Music:	Thunder Monkies "Hostile Gerbils"

I am a chronic nail-biter. I bite my nails like having raw, gnawed-off fingers is a fashion. But recently, I just like, stopped biting my nails. And it wasn't by an extraordinary display of awesome will-power or anything. I don't even know why I grew them out. I just...stopped biting them. AFTER 16 YEARS! But tonight...I was sitting in front of the computer (much like I still am now) working on my story, when I began examining my thumbnail. I was thinking 'wow, it's getting really long...' and I contemplated just biting it off. And so I actually tried to do it. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?! I tried biting off. THANK GOD I put on some of that Hard-As-Nail shit before applying my Chrome Polish because I couldn't make a dent in it. So, as a future reference to myself and everyone else out there- if you want to stop biting your nails, whether it be consciously or otherwise- just put on a few layers of that Hard-As-Nail junk. Forget vinegar, or wrapping up every nail in a bandaid. Just make your nails *really really* hard.

I really hope I don't suddenly start biting my nails again, because I do have urges to. I know that as soon as I bite one off the rest of them are history. I think it's a nervous habit. Or a "I'm really tense and into this particular thing I'm doing and I feel I should bite my nails!" habit. They get in the way when I play guitar though, I can't play some chords. And they make a pleasant clicking noise when I play the piano. I really hope I start randomly severing people, too, because i have NEVER been able to do that before. Not even when I attached knives to my hands.

I just found the most amazingly sexy pictures of Charlie Hunnam....*EVER*. And I'll be damned if I can't post them in here. I'm going to devote the next two entire hours to uploading them and perfecting them and making love to them...I mean, um, posting them. God, I am so pathetic. On a less happy note- he, too, is married. There is a startling trend that all excruciatingly GORGEOUS young actors/musicians out there these days get married as soon as they fricken can. WHAT *IS* THAT?! No, really. It's starting to piss me off, and if too many more hot singles do that....I'm going to take some drastic action. I'm not sure what yet. But it will most likely involve huge poking sticks made of wood, and a few taunting emails to the offending party.

I have "Proud to Be an American" STUCK in my head. GOD. Why am I so needlessly patriotic?

Another thing that makes me really, intensely happy is the fact that I finally got that new CHROME nail polish and, oh my gosh, it really is like my fingernails are coated in some kind of metal/element. Or whatever chrome is. *sigh*

Date:	2002-07-28 00:32
Subject:	Alright, everyone, LISTEN UP--
Security:	Public
Mood:	ecstatic
Music:	Mike Myer's as SIMON on SNL

YA'LL CAN SUCK IT! SHANNON IS THE NEW QUEEN: LOOK AT THESE FUCKERS I JUST BOUGHT-

FUCK YEAH!! *dies* Perfect in absolutely every way. I can die a happy girl now.

Date:	2002-07-26 00:08
Subject:	Guh
Security:	Public
Mood:	depressed
Music:	Tenacious D's "Wonder Boy"

I feel awful. Again, don't know why. Do I ever know why I feel anything? Not most of the time. (although the one time I felt a huge stabbing pain in my finger was becuase I had sliced it off...i knew *that*.) Anyway, I don't feel like writing, like playing the piano...i don't feel like going to work or reading my books. IS THERE ANYTHING I FEEL LIKE DOING? No. The answer is: no.

I don't want August to come. I don't want it here at all. August means School. Actually, August means BAND CAMP, and Band Camp invariably means school. DON'T...WANT...SCHOOL. *weeps* August is too busy. Don't want August here.

Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe that's why I feel that it would be a physical impossibility for me to actually get out of this chair and drag myself upstairs. I don't even feel like talking to anybody online....even Erik (sorry buddy). I really, really want one of those nice long man hugs. You know, the ones that you just like, melt into. And after you've melted its impossible to ever leave the hug because you've become one with the hug-ee. Yeah, i really need one of those. Still taking applications.

I don't want to work tomorrow. I want to stay home and do nothing. I need to fester in my pool of....feces. I mean, hatred. I mean....fuck it.

At my mom's house. Don't wanna leave.

Went to Barnes and Noble today. Bought Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. All-time favorite book ever. I'm on page 10 and I've already had to excuse myself for laughing too loudly. But I do that a lot anyway.

In the shower this morning, I realized (well, more like "fearfully pondered") that I might be one of those people that other people talk about like, "Yeah, she's got a mess of psychological problems, might wanna stay away from her." Because i feel as though I do have a lot of latent psychological problems. NOT A GOOD THING. Trying desperately to squelch them. Desperately. I don't know if I do, though, but in my hideously over-active over-analyzing mind, I think that everything I do stays with people for years, constantly haunting them and souring thier relationship with me. Okay, that's not exactly how I see it. But right now I lack the appropriate lexicon to accurately describe what I feel. So, in order not to contradict myself in the future, I suppose I'll just stop trying to verbalize it anyway.

I love Douglas Adams. I adore him. My love for him is deep and hard.
Henry Rollins is really shocking. When I read his excerpts, I was reminded of Brian. Not sure if that's a good thing.

Ashley tells me that she can remember about 30% of what happened on our 'night.' And then I told her about our half-hour attempt to climb up the stairs (god it was so very difficult) and how we woke up our friend Brian just to ask him if he wanted to play Monopoly. She says she doesn't remember that at ALL. I just can't believe we'd want to play Monopoly at 3:30 am. I don't think she even HAS that game. And after Brian declined (or just didn't answer us) we were kinda like "okay...*tumbles down the stairs*" and totally forgot about playing Monopoly. WHO EVEN PLAYS MONOPOLY ANYMORE?! I would so rather play Sorry! or Life. Ooh, or maybe Operation.