January 28, 2001

A new layout is coming soon. I hate this one. I've changed my mind. I do this frequently.
In fact, i may change my mind about the new layout.

As for now, i'm sick and especially emotional.

Just yesterday i nearly cried when a songcame on the radio. You know the one...
"WAR...huh...good god ya'll...what is it good for? absolutely nothin..say it again!"

I just started wondering about how it must have felt to have your friends and family go off to war, knowing that the chances of coming back alive were slim. How could you go on with your day to day activities when your brother or your son is running around in a jungle shooting guns, seeing their friends blow up right next to them, trying to just live.

Its pointless to worry about a war that happened nearly 30 years ago but this is what I do when i'm sick. I worry. I fret. Oh and I sleep.

Anyway, I just got a bunch of good "sleep music" so I need to rest...in the meantime go here:
ohmessylife it rocks.

posted at 11:36 PM

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January 23, 2001

I'm listening to Classical Gas by Mason Williams. Its a great damn song. It pulls out every emotion at once...I think its one of the few songs I've ever heard that actually makes me feel happy, sad, angry, strong, excited and relaxed all at once.
If you've ever seen "The Story of Us" with Bruce Willis and Michelle Pfeiffer, then you've heard it when they're going through the montage of their relationship.
Its a hard movie to watch because I feel that it portrays a REAL relationship the best I've ever seen in the movies.
The stupid fights about who fills up the fucking washer fluid.

The laughing in bed over something silly that won't be funny in the morning.

The fighting over families.

Who has to be the grown up, and who doesn't...and why that happens.

Sometimes, real life is just too damn hard to watch.
I think that's why I like fake make-believe movies. I have to live through this shit every day, why would I want to watch it on tv?
I don't know. I guess there are those times when I watch it on tv, i don't feel so alone. I don't feel so alienated from what I think a perfect life should be.
I mean for shits sake i've got friends who own their own 300,000 dollar house, have that perfect job, have perfect hair and bodies...and are happy as a pig in shit.

Is that what I want though?

I think i'm going to post my happy list eventually ...so you guys can see i'm not always this fucking sad .
posted at 4:07 PM

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January 20, 2001

this is the first day of my last days
built it up now take it apart
climbed up real high now fall down real far
no need for me to stay
the last thing left i just threw it away
i put my faith in god and my trust in you
now there's nothing more fucked up i could do

wish there was something real wish there was something true
wish there was something real in this world full of you

i'm the one without a soul
i'm the one with this big fucking hole
no new tale to tell
twenty-six years on my way to hell
gotta listen to your big time hard line bad luck fist fuck
don't think you're having all the fun
you know me i hate everyone

posted at 11:22 PM

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What an ass...
What an ASS!

Both me and him. Perhaps mostly me.

He doesn't give a flying fuck and the past year has meant shit.
Isn't that all interesting.

Where do i go from here, then?

I did find an angry song that i can listen to without thinking of him. It's a start,yeah?"
posted at 10:52 PM

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January 17, 2001

How long has he been gone? I can't even remember any more. I think that's a good thing. I'm not sure, I think i'm still numb from it all. I no longer cry when I hear a song, which is a very good thing. I got tired of crying all the time. That was the one thing we had in common, really, was music. Every thing I listened to he listened to and enjoyed and vice versa. There was no changing....there was no 'expanding the horizons'...it was comfortable knowing that we were the same.
Once I dated a guy and all i would listen to is sugar, husker du and fugazi. Now don't get me wrong, i love them, but over and over again....i wouldn't stray from those three bands. Music is definately a factor in my relationships. When fugazi boy told me that he was archie and he had to decide between betty (her) and veronica (me), i sat in my car and listened to 'how's it gonna be' by third eye blind. Over and Over again. I hate this song, but it seemed fitting at the time. Every time I hear that song now I get choked up because i've been conditioned to do so. I don't think i miss him - fugazi boy. I think i miss the idea....
Which brings me back to HIM. He's been gone. He's in California. He's ...hm.

So now, i'm stuck. The one thing that i always felt very comfortable in, and very lucky about - music - has proved to be the thorn in my side. Everything I listen to reminds me of him. Misfits remind me of driving around and seeing the amityville horror house and seeing the coffin couch on the side of the road. The descendents remind me of driving to Desirable Discs and rushing to go see American Beauty before it sold out. Gene reminds me of spending the night...and his smile. and his eyes. and his laugh. and his hands. and the way he hugged me. He hugged me so tight that it felt like he would float away if he let go. Morrissey reminds me of sex...and the way he'd move and the way he'd touch me. Everything I know and listen to is him. Now, how am i supposed to listen to angry music to get over him? All the angry music i have we both listened to.
Growing up, when we were both angry children, we used to listen to anthrax. Now, when i listen to anthrax to yell, it just reminds me of the time when we were walking around on the pathway around borders and that old church. We were talking about skateboarding and growing up. We argued over the best anthrax songs, and talked about mohawks and being rebels.

I'm not as sad as I used to be. But it still feels like I'm missing something. I feel only half full. Somewhere in my chest there's a hole and it aches like arthritis. Every day feels like a useless step ...i'm going through the motions of my life. I am even watching a shitload of tv now. I don't care about rotting my brain. I don't feel like doing anything.
I can't even fucking listen to music!

Why did he do this to me?
rather, why did i let him do this to me?
I miss him.

posted at 4:43 PM

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January 16, 2001

I think i'm going to scan in some stuff tomorrow at work so that you can see some of the stuff that makes up my day. I also think that I need to do something to make this site a bit more interesting. Though i'm not a very interesting person.

A friend of mine is struggling with her 'coming out-ness'. Is that a word? No, probably not. Nevertheless, you know what I mean by that. She doesn't question what she feels and in fact, she's in a very loving relationship. However, the problem lies in the fact that she has to tell people about this. She has to explain to people that yes, she is attracted to only females and no, it doesn't change who she is. Unfortunately, she's lost a couple of people in the process. And she's really uncomfortable with the fact that she has to tell people that she has a girlfriend. Her girlfriend makes no bones about it. "Hey, did you know i was gay?"

But my friend, maybe due to upbringing, maybe due to society and maybe due to her own insecurities, she can't seem to get past the fact that she is gay. She's gets really uncomfortable when she wants to hold her girlfriends hand in public, she gets really uncomfortable when she has to do any sort of relationship type things around people that don't really know her. It has to be hard...always having to justify yourself and your feelings to the entire world. Always having to explain "just because I like chicks doesn't mean you can't be my friend." I don't know.
I think the reason why i'm writing all of this is because i'm having a hard time with her. Not because she's gay. Hell no. I mean i was a little sister in a gay frat for shit's sake. The thing i'm having the hardest time with is the fact that it makes her so uncomfortable to be herself. The fact that she's so wrapped up in what everyone else thinks about her relationship and about her 'preferances' that she's making herself miserable. Every time she's in public with her girlfriend, she feels like all eyes are on her. Every time she meets someone new she worries about how to explain her "roommate". She's so full of this worry, that I fear that she's going to bog herself down. She winds up taking care of everyone else, worrying so much about everyone else's opinion that she's going to lose her own.

Though I don't think she's that weak.
She's just sent an email to a friend of hers, who by the way is a sheltered pretty pretty little princess who doesn't have a mind of her own and has to use daddy's religious right conservitive views. Anyway, in this email, she all but comes out to her. Now she's worried how her friend will take it. She's afraid that she's going to lose her friend. Good god damn. Losing a friend cos some fucked up religion says so. It makes me mad. I don't understand why it matters. Its really really hard for me to be understanding. I am. I'm completely supportive and I understand that she needs to work through this on her own. But god damn, why does it matter if someone knows she's gay. If that person chooses not to like her because they are a close minded homophobic asshole, then good riddance. Why would you want to surround yourself with someone like that anyway? Why would you want to be friends with someone who can not and WILL not accept you for who you are regardless of who you happen to be fucking. My god, I don't go around telling people "Hi, my name is am, and I'm currently fucking a boy. And right now, I will be holding his hand. If you are uncomfortable with this, I suppose I should stop".
I have absolutely no tolerance for people who judge you because of your sexual preferance.
And those fucking religious whacks...I have one thing for you "judge not lest ye be judged yourself"
Its not your goddamned place.

I get really irritated when my friends are uncomfortable or upset.

And the more that I think about this, the more I realize how much this parallels my life. She's uncomfortable in her own skin. She knows what she wants but she's afraid of it. She knows there's SOMETHING not right in her life and that's why she feels so goddamned wrong.

Its so easy to offer advice than it is to take it. The funny thing is, I've been asking for a sign...something that i can use as a beacon or the proverbial "light at the end of the tunnel". Maybe this is the answer. Maybe by helping her out i can help myself out.
I feel guilty for looking for finding selfish reasons to help her with her problem.
But there's no reason be guilty.
Maybe I'm used to feeling guilty so I think i *should* be. Its a stupid vicious circle.
Maybe this year isn't going to be as bad as I thought it was.

Sometimes you just have to look for the good in things. And sometimes its harder than it seems. Actually most times its harder than it seems.
Its hard as shit.
And actually i'm dense...so i need a big knock on the head for me to realize what the hell is going on.
NYPD Blue calls...

posted at 10:30 PM

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January 15, 2001

I need to add more to this page. I need to add something of interest.
What's interesting in my life?
Perhaps a picture of the day?
Here's one...



aha, black and white. To go with my "black feeling" theme.
But for now, it is after 11...i should attempt to get more than 5 hours of sleep tonight.
and away i go...
posted at 11:12 PM

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So here I sit, looking all emo and shit.
For some reason or other, I've taken to wearing all black again. Not gothy black...but just plain old black. Black hoodies. Black long sleeved shirts. Black cargo pants.
I feel more comfortable in it.
I also think that I'm going to chop my hair off.
I think its something to do with my current state of "uncomfortable-ness". I don't think I really *want* to cut my hair off, I just think that if i do i'll feel more in control of my own life, rather than other people telling me "oh you're going to regret it, you look so good with long hair, is this something that you really want to do?" I know that maybe I'll look slightly more pumpkin like, maybe my head will look like the full two feet that it is.
(*side note, yes i did say two feet. I measured my head. its 24 inches. Well, actually something more like 23 and 1/3...but that's close enough. Man two feet of head...)
At any rate, I'm still uncomfortable. I'm trying to figure out, in my own simple way, what it is i'm uncomfortable with and what i can do to change this.
I read in a magazine last night that i'm going through a "quarter life crisis"
What the hell. I fell into every single symptom of it, however, i feel that its just a fancy name for "feeling 25" . These people will do anything to prey on hypochondriacs like me. And, yes, I did fall for it hook-line-and-sinker. I'm scouting out psychotherapists right now.
You think i'm joking...



posted at 4:12 PM

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January 12, 2001

i saw the funniest fucking thing on my way home from work today...
a guy, who looked very much like billy bob thornton when he was in sling blade was waiting on the street for the bus. He was holding something that looked like a cross between a nextel phone and a small radio and began talking into it very very animatedly.
Of course, being the nosey person i am, i turn down my radio and roll down the window to see if i could hear what he was saying.
I hear "when doves cry" by prince being blasted from his little radio and the guy screaming along. It was completely hilarious, not because he was obviously 'disturbed' in some way, but because he was singing INTO the radio.
Like he was having his own little duet with prince.
How charming.
"How i love all of the simple things of life..."
posted at 5:24 PM

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"I'm here I won't move. I'm here I will not move."
"you must see i will not move"

lies, i tell you lies.
What are the 7 stages of grief?
I'd like to know what step comes after extreme sadness...
posted at 2:18 PM

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"The ladder's a planet, Roy is a star and I am a satellite...but that's alright"

I think that's the theme of my life at this particular point. I am at a loss.
I know that I have to change something, but where, what, how?

I wonder when i'll stop being uncomfortable in my own skin.

I wonder when I'll stop getting writers block every time I go to write something. When I'm just sitting here I can think of a thousand things...aha load this up and then I'm done for.

There's this restaurant by my house called "logans roadhouse". Apparently it is quite the happening steak place. I've never eaten there but its given me the most wonderful idea. I think i'm going to open my own restaurant and I'm going to call it "logans RUN house". Every waitress and waiter is going to have to wear long flowing robe type things. The servers and the host or hostess have to wear sandman type outfits, complete with black pants and their black shirt/grey tunic ensemble. Each waiter/ess is going to have a little crystal in the middle of their hand and it blinks when they have an order ready. I'll feature dishes like "Sanctuary Salad" and "Runner Ribs". I"m also considering "Carousel Chicken" and the "Sandman Shrimp". The entire restaurant will be in this dome like place, sort of like a indoor golfing dome. Occasionally there'll be a little drama that the waiters and the hostesses will act out. Someone will try to run and a sandman will chase them down and 'kill' them. All for the entertainment of the diners.
I think I have a hot little idea on my hands.
Now i just need some money to start the business.
There's always a catch with my ideas...



posted at 11:39 AM

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January 11, 2001

Italics are fiction, ja?
Anyway, I thought it was clever how you changed your name to Duncan the Shammy....aha pun, you know.
For now, I can't stop listening to that song.
I hope that this phase of my life ends. I'm sitting here at work again, and I still can't get anything done. I have a shitload of stuff to do and I just am sitting here writing in this thing.
I am having a hard ass time in my life right now...I don't know if I'm going to make it through a better person.

posted at 3:59 PM

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January 10, 2001

I think I'm just going to write and listen to music. I suppose I could be working but that's akin to taking a sleeping pill. Stupid move.
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He's gone. It's a lot worse than it sounds. Those two words, though they are exactly the right words to use, don't do the feeling justice. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone. And he's claiming that the things I have don't exsist. I told his mom that I had some stuff I wanted to give back. She said that she had talked to him and *quote* He said You don't have anything of his. *end quote*. He knows i do. This is his way of conveying the message to me without having to say it directly. "I don't want to talk to you, stay out of my life. you are nothing to me".
Nothing?! Nothing to you! How could he even let that thought slip into his head? ...But maybe I was nothing to him. Maybe all those awkward fumblings in his truck behind the Jewish Multicultural Center, maybe all those times driving around and singing the descendents and the misfits, maybe the dinners, the trips to borders, the nights at the hotel were just ...nothing. We were both fooling ourselves. Spending the night at his place. Holding Hands. Laughing. Having the same prescription in our glasses.
Was it all nothing?
How can it be nothing when it hurts this bad? Why am i sitting her blaming myself? Was I the one to mess this up? I will never know and I suppose that's the part that hurts worst of all.
He's gone. And I'll never get a chance to say goodbye.
He's gone. And I'll never ever see him again.
He's just gone.
Will I ever be the same again?
posted at 11:58 AM

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So here is the begining of my journal. I suppose I should have prepared something profound to say but...I don't have anything. I just have this compelling need to write.
I'm reading the journal of this girl who is dating a person I once knew. Its complicated. How I know the person, not the journal. But every time I read it, I feel this ...urge to write more about me.
I think its a self confidence thing, really. Sometimes you want people to like you so badly that you think that you have to exploit everything you do in order to gain acceptance. But if I know this, why am I doing it? Because deep down I know that no one is going to read this anyway.
**
I slept 2 hours last night. I am extremely angry about this but too tired to do anything about it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to sit at your desk, the sun streaming through the window making you that "perfect warm" (where you're not hot, but not cold...just right to fall asleep), you're the only one in your department because everyone else is out on a shoot......and NOT fall asleep. Especially with 2 fucking hours of sleep. I am doing every trick in the book in order to stay awake. And I'm failing miserably.
**

posted at 11:30 AM

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