whether or not it's all in my head, it's real, isn't it?

i barely understand myself, although i can be oddly perceptive about other people. so when water bear's mother read my mind last week, i kind of lost it. it felt like she was inside me. which bothers me, because if you couldn't tell, i don't like things inside me. maybe that's why i'm still a virgin. anywho. i should back up.

last week, i slept over at water bear's house, because we were going to play video games and pretend to be normal college girls. we did no such thing. in fact, the second day i slept over-- which was monday-- i was munching away on skittles. skittles used to be my safe food. and i mean totally safe. i was okay with eating skittles in front of people. probably too okay. because it became my nickname. and not just like, close friends call me skittles as a joke; people who only know me for a few days call me skittles. in fact, i'm fairly certain there are people i know who have only ever seen me eat skittles. that being said, i hadn't had any for two weeks before i slept over at her house, and that day at school, owl girl (if you remember her) saw me eating skittles and knew i hadn't had any for a while. and i had like, three other packs in my bag. so she laughed and said, "so now you're on a binge, huh?"

well... yeah, i guess, is what i realized, hours later, sitting on water bear's kitchen floor, a rainbow of skittles in my hand. i was staring at it, confused, i suppose, and she and her mother came over to see what was wrong. probably because i was holding them for ten minutes, and i couldn't bring myself to put them in my mouth. then her mother basically told me i was an addict and that i needed to stop eating skittles. but all i really heard was that i needed to stop eating skittles, because if i was eating it-- and i mean eating it so much that someone thought i could binge on the goddamn things-- then it was food, wasn't it? and if it was food, in that horrible sense, then i shouldn't be eating it. and i pretty much started crying while her mother was talking to me. and not because i wanted to. i was just a whole fucked up ball of emotions. i was angry that i had eaten them in front of people for so long. i was sad, because well, what the hell was i going to eat now? and more than anything else, i was embarrassed, because i was crying-- runny nose, uncontrollable crying-- because of food. in front of people. it freaked me out. haven't touched the stuff since. (i saw a little girl eating them on the train yesterday, and i looked at her with such disgust, i felt horribly guilty and ran onto the platform.)

i won't even get into how i mentioned that in one of my classes this monday, because we were talking about substance abuse-- yes, i considered it substance abuse, but why the hell would any normal person follow that line of thought? yesterday, i had that class again, and i was drinking from a juice box. of course, we were talking about how to have therapy sessions for people with eating disorders, and for a brief moment, i thought my teacher was diagnosing me. it was just the look on her face when she saw me drinking from a 4 oz. juice box. i love this teacher, because she's honest and open about how she's felt about things that i could never be honest or open about. but i don't want to sit in class, learning how to diagnose-- no, i'm sorry, assess-- which disorders a client may have. especially if we're going to practice with each other.

water bear says that most people are too stupid to realize when they're hurting someone, and that if i want people to be more sensitive to how i feel, i need to speak up for myself. but i don't know how to do that. i'm so used to not wanting to be a burden for other people that i'd rather just be a burden for myself, i suppose. it's just easier, i think. people don't want to know your problems. (which, i suppose, leaves me at a loss for words when it comes to blogs.) but i mean people in a general sense. people whose biggest worries are things like grades, what they'll wear on the weekend, maybe where they'll get a job. not that those aren't things to be worried about, but if human emotions are measured by depth, then the emotions related to those things don't even tip the scale for me. sometimes i feel so much that my heart feels pressured and i can't help but crumble to the ground.

on the bright side, it's thanksgiving. i've got lots of books to devour. i've got a bottle of water to wash it all down. i don't have classes, and so i don't have to leave my room unless i want to. i'm thankful for that.

honestly.

i like sam's butt. (and i despise my mother.)

i heard it would be a good title, and (surprise!) it is.

i don't even need to explain the first half, should be totally obvious why i said it. (and if it isn't, then you suck.)  but i will explain the second part. my mother, unfortunately, has a bad habit of saying "xxxxxxxx is coming over to see you because they haven't seen you in forever, and they didn't tell me when, so be ready for them to come over at any time." they never do, but usually it's someone from the church i used to go to. (if they saw my eight piercings, they'd shit a brick. at the same time. all of them.)

i can't believe they really think i'd go there. they eat lunch together after service. (a congregation, congregating. it used to amuse me.) someone always asks me, though, "do you want something to eat?" psh, no. but then someone else will respond, "how is it you don't eat but you're not even that skinny?" obviously, that's the correct response to someone who doesn't eat often, right? because you're giving me a reason to want to eat again. (sarcasm.) or maybe someone will say, "you should eat something." instead of the other line. but when that happens, they complain-- yes, complain-- to my mother about my unhealthy eating habits. if you see me one day out of seven, you don't know a damn thing about my eating habits. stupid people.

speaking of stupid people, i just don't like most of the people there. the few people i do like always tell me the little kids look up to me-- which, unfortunately, is true, since i'm the only person who uses their brain there, but i'm a terrible influence, so why would you want your children to look up to me?-- and these kids should see me eat healthy food, so they'll eat healthy food too. how about.... no. go be a good parent and spoon-feed 'em their veggies. don't ask me to be a role model. also, i still feel really bad about my little cousin's birthday party. (the one i didn't attend so i wouldn't have to eat cake. or anything, really.) actually, i've been avoiding my little cousin because people keep telling me she looks up to me so much. and she does. it sucks. she's been crying because she misses me. but i can't go see her. i don't want her to look up to me. i'm cool. from a distance. like a house on fire. but get too close, and you're gonna have a bad time. so i avoid her.

speaking of avoiding people so i don't have to eat, that's basically all i've been doing. i just feel like avoiding people in general, though. i had one of those awkward girly moments last night and told my friend i felt gross. (you would too if you had just taken three laxatives because of five crackers.) she said maybe i should juice fast. (again, with responses from other people being totally inappropriate.) i told her i was going to bed, but i didn't tell her it was because she had just told me what my brain was telling me i should do, only with water.

speaking of fasting (look! everything's so connected!), i feel like my brain is shifting into that mode. or maybe my body is finally as disgusted with itself as my brain is. i couldn't even finish a cup of coffee i made this morning. i had to pour it down the drain, because it was virtually untouched three and a half hours later. it's kinda bittersweet, though. it means i'm probably falling back into that state of self-loathing that leads to crawling under my bed, reading semi-depressing books, using bus fare for laxatives, and weighing myself as much as possible and hating myself for even the tiniest changes. actually, back up a little...

speaking of semi-depressing books, i just ordered some today. if i'm going to be home, i'm going to stay in my room and read things at my level of happiness.

random thought: why don't people say "fie on you!" more often? it's a damn good phrase.

actually, just speaking of books, this girl.... let's call her harmony. i caught her reading impulse by ellen hopkins. (i love this woman. and her books. but mostly her, because the books wouldn't exist without her.) and that made me so happy. i love seeing people reading depressing shit. (happy endings? no thank you.) in fact, i love that so much i offered to lend her my entire collection of ellen hopkins's books. (whether she wants to read them or not, i'm going to give them to her. i only offered as a polite way to warn her.)

speaking of girls, i like sam's butt.

and i despise my mother.

now that we've come full circle, (and i can also hold my bladder no longer), away i go.

also, now that we've come full circle, i'm not entirely sure what this post was meant to be about.

honestly.

trolls, elves and fairies.

my life never ceases to confuse and amaze me. it's been a while, yeah.

about two weeks after school started, i started hanging out with someone i'd known for a while, but never really talked to. i don't even know what kind of nickname i'd give her. the only thing i can say fits is water bear, because she's the toughest person i know. and the water bear is a bad ass little creature. we've spent most of our days every week since the first time we hung out... hanging out. some nights i crash on her couch (either because we're both too high to function or because we're just sleepy), some weekends she comes and sleeps over at my house. the funny thing is, none of this would have happened if we hadn't hung out the first time. she took me to a store where we (somehow) kept getting into conversations about psychological issues. (do you see where this is headed? i hope you do.) turns out she's recovered from an eating disorder. in a manner of speaking. at any rate, it's nice being able to eat packets of mustard with someone who, while realizing it's totally abnormal, thinks it's perfectly fine. the only problem is that she isn't totally comfortable eating around people, so knowing i have food issues makes her that much more uncomfortable eating around me. so usually we have to go our separate ways so she can stick to her schedule and do what normal people do a few times a day. it's funny, she slept over last weekend and i bought a box of cheerios for us to eat for breakfast. it wasn't until about four p.m. that she said, "so, do you want to eat those cheerios now?" (because i totally forgot about breakfast and lunch) and then she told me to pour it for both of us. probably because it was my house and all.

she didn't mean to fuck with my head, i know. but it did. how do you figure out how much food to give someone when you can barely figure that out for yourself? it was awkward, but i did it. we ate together (kind of) so i think we're making progress. oddly enough, though, we'll soon be exercising together. i like that, though. did i mention she's strong enough to give her 200-lb boyfriend piggy back rides? she's like a giant muscle. should be fun.

on another, less eating disorder related note, my mother got rid of my dog. came home one day and found out he was in an adoption shelter an hour away. so... that's something, there. and i got all of the eight piercings i wanted at once, because i was feeling impulsive and indestructible. didn't flinch once. three lobes on both sides, one auricle and a helix on the left. asymmetrical. just like i like things. (the woman who pierced me said i had the most she's ever done at once. the record breaker. that's me.) and i've been doing my homework. in most of my classes.

i haven't actually had time until now to sit down and actually think about all that's been happening. it's odd. not sure if i like it or not. but it is what it is.

anyway, just wanted to say, "hey! i'm okay!" relatively speaking. i hope you've been okay too.

i missed it here, with all of you silly, beautiful people.

can't say i'll be able to post often, because as honest as water bear and i are with each other, i still don't think i'd tell her about my blog. maybe. it isn't like she doesn't know, so it wouldn't change anything, but at the same time, she doesn't need to. you know? hurrr. we'll see. 

as to the trolls, elves and fairies, it's the name of my newest coloring book. (it's really pretty.) it never gets old. and neither do i, mentally. plus it just seemed like a better title than 'whales and dolphins'.

honestly.

stand absolved.

how vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live. thoreau, of course. (that bastard.)

i didn't want to just sit at my computer and go "blah, i stayed indoors, i'm sad" or "blah, i should stay indoors, i'm sad" for the length of the sadness, because it felt really monotonous and...somehow made me a bit sadder. admitting things does that, you know. that's why  but anyway, i finally left my room because i wanted to. as opposed to having to walk the dog, or tag along for some weird car ride somewhere. and you know why? because my friend asked me to help her with her homework assignment.

why it got me excited, i don't know. but it did. basically, it was just creating ideas for a movie, using food to symbolize something. (i don't know who this teacher is, but a class on food and movies? sounds like my kinda thing.) maybe i really do want school to start, because i came up with like, twenty ideas for her. and since yesterday was a holiday, for some reason, i went to her college to visit her. because she said we could go hiking. yes, i may have scared her friends with my somewhat unnatural wish to see an axe murderer, but i also amused them with my social awkwardness from not having to deal with people for weeks. we bought exercise gear too. so it worked out pretty well. the day was pretty good.

luckily this all happened when it did, because school starts tomorrow. unfortunately, even if i am back to an acceptable level of self-loathing, i still don't think i'll be too friendly when i go back. but that's okay. 

i feel like i was going to say something... but i can't remember....

huh. i really can't remember.

well.... my dark cloud has vanished!

oh wait. i remember. the other reason why i left my room. i had a string of dreams each night the moon was full. only one made me really happy, though. i was sitting and talking to jeff buckley, and looking up at the moon. it wasn't really crazy conversation, just idle chatter, i suppose. and then he got up, because he wanted to go for a swim, and he looked at me, smiled, and said, "stand absolved." which is like, the greatest thing anyone has ever said in one of my dreams, as far as i can remember. (incidentally, my dog, b.j. was curled up beside me when i woke up. but that has nothing to do with anything. maybe.) actually, when i woke up, i decided to pierce my ears. for the first time. technically, for the first eight times. (five in the left, three in the right.) but probably not until october. my friend wants to be there. she says i'm insane for getting eight at once. i like pain. who knew? and then that same day, my sister exploded and told me about how she feels the same way about our mother that i do. (i repeat, who knew?)

anyway, you guys are pretty awesome. for putting up with all those bad vibes. (why are you all so awesomee? it's...disturbingly enchanting.) i think after all that unhappiness, life should give me a break, eh? for at least four months... i think that's only fair. but, you know, i'll take what i can get. so yeah, i'm going to take his advice. jeff's. even if it was a dream. haha, not much to report on here. but i'm glad i feel better. 

honestly.

one step forward. nine steps back.

today, life grabbed me by the shoulders, shook me, double slapped me in the face and screamed, "don't you ever learn?!"

no, i don't.

mistake number one. i let my sister convince me that i needed new sneakers and therefore, i should come with her to her job interview, so we could go buy a pair (or two, possibly) at a store nearby. lesson learned: don't let people fool you. the world is a terrible place. mistake number two. i stepped outside of the house, into the sunlight. seriously, i froze at the front door and had to force myself to step into the light. it was pathetic. lesson learned: the more light you have, the more darkness you notice. stay in the dark. mistake number three, and possibly the biggest mistake of all. i kept walking, away from my last safe place, away from my haven of solitude.

today... was terrible. i've noticed that i can't have bad days when nothing happens, so i've stayed inside, mostly. but when things happen, they're bad. and i hate when bad things happen. first my sister said, "wow, you've got hips." and then, when i said i didn't want anything to eat at subway's, she said, "why is it you never eat but you're still bigger than me?" that's about when i realized i needed to get back home, because the emotionally neutral part of the day was ending. it's things like that that make my eyes open, from just seeing the world, to noticing things. like the girl who came on the train with her long, bright, flowing skirt. the wind whipped around her legs. they were smaller than mine. i looked away. (strange, how i can see these things but i can't see much else without my glasses.) after that, my mind started to twist and bend out of shape. i tried every remedy i could. i tried reading notre dame de paris, the tale of quasimodo as told by victor hugo. he's a character i can identify with. maybe that's why it didn't help. i tried listening to jeff buckley, but i felt like i wanted to cry, and i couldn't cry in public. so i turned him off. i tried playing video games, but i felt like i kept making mistakes. so i put my ds away. and then i tried texting my friend, the person i can be the most honest with. it was helping, a little. until i realized the answers that i wanted, he couldn't give me. so i stopped talking to him. and then i left my phone in the cab. didn't realize until i got home. and i called, called, called. but someone had already found it, and wasn't giving it up.

so i lost all my contacts.

i don't know if i was sadder because i really had no one to talk to at that point, or because i had no one to talk to before i lost it.

"isn't this what you wanted? now you've got it. complete isolation."

i swear, i tore the house apart, looking for that phone. i called it at least seventy times, growing more anxious with each call. once, someone picked it up, then they hung up. never happened again. i left a voicemail after that. i hissed, "i want my fucking phone back." and then i lost all control and screamed, "give me my phone back! don't fuck with pyromaniacs! give me my fucking phone back!" even if they did listen to that, i doubt anyone would respond. and when i finally realized i wouldn't get it back, i cried.

that should have been it. i could have lived with that.

but then my sister felt bad, since she dragged me outside, so she went to the mall to get me a new phone. and she had to wait for my mother to not only come home from work, but also to drive me to the mall with her, so she could authorize it or something. (we had to suspend it, since it was lost/stolen/missing/gone forever.) but on the car ride over, we heard about some poor boy who had gotten killed accidentally. he had two jobs, he was studying to be a teacher. he sounded pretty awesome. until my mom started comparing me to him. i don't have a job. i don't make all aces in school. thanks mom. for comparing me to a dead guy that we don't even know.

then the saleslady bitched at my sister and pissed her off.

then my sister insisted on buying this crazy expensive phone, even though she's broke too.

then she went and bought me sneakers.

and the whole time, i felt so guilty. none of that would have happened if i hadn't left the house. i didn't need new sneakers. my sneakers may have gaping holes in the sides and be ripped beyond casual repair, but they're still functional in average weather. i didn't need a new phone just yet. my phone was broken, yes, but i made it work for me. and i lost all those contacts. i just hope whoever took my phone doesn't harass any of them. and i hope the people i actually considered friends will try to contact me when they realize i'm not talking to them.

people want to hang out with me, that i haven't seen all summer. tomorrow. and thursday. i don't know if i'm up to it. but i can't cancel on them now. not just because i can't contact them, and have to go to where we're meeting, but i can't cancel on anyone again. not after i canceled on my little cousin and her birthday party. i didn't want to eat cake. (they probably got a vegan one, so i could have some too.) isn't that such a shitty excuse? i feel so fucked up.

i want school to start already. i want mind numbing routine. but this time, i don't want to go to parties, or spend time with people, or hang out after school. i want to get this job, near my school and near my bus stop. i want to get my license, so i won't need a bus stop anymore. i want things to get better. i want to stop pretending to be happy for people. i want to stop pretending i'm apathetic, when i'm overflowing with emotions sometimes. i want my sister to stop commenting on how much bigger i am than her, because just when i think i can't hate myself anymore, she makes me realize how much more i can hate myself. i want my nails to have color again. i want people to stop telling me i look better. i don't look better, idiots. i'm sick. i want to cry, or laugh, or really smile in front of someone, anyone. the only creatures i show any real emotion to these days are my dog and a spider that's taken up residence behind my desk.

i want to stop feeling like such a massive burden. i do my best to not be a problem, sometimes, and that just makes me a bigger problem somehow. i feel like my mom was nicer to me when i was out getting drunk and coming home at half past someshit in the morning. i feel like if i have any facsimile of a home left, it's only within the walls of my room. i feel like everyone's tired of me.

i know i'm tired of me.

i really need this week and next week to end. without anything else happening.

honestly.

disgusting.

i've been locked up in my room for most of the past week, in a desperate attempt to bring myself back to an acceptable level of self-loathing. still waiting for that to work. (most people would say there is no acceptable level. but what do they know?) every once in a while, i'd emerge to find something to nibble on, but then i would return to my room. i hadn't spent any decent time outdoors. in fact, i avoided it as much as i could.

it wasn't too long before i felt sorry for my dog, so i took him for a long(er) walk. bad idea. i ran into my neighbor. she said my skin looked radiant. i'm positively baffled. is that because of the malnutrition, or the lack of sunlight? i decided the risk of running into people was too high, so i stayed inside again. then yesterday, i emerged again, to go visit a friend. bad idea. a random thunderstorm made the trains delayed. i left at one. i didn't get to her house until four. it never takes that long. and then i was trying to secretly plan a surprise party for her with her brother, but that didn't work. it just looked like we were up to something. something she wouldn't approve of. and then i had to leave, so there wasn't much time to plan or fix the situation.

when i got home last night, i thought, "i'm never leaving my room again. outside of my room, bad things are waiting to happen. this is a controlled environment. nothing changes in here." i wasn't factoring in my mother, though, who woke up on the wrong side of menopause today (as usual), and told me how my room smells like dog, and how i smell like dog, and i smell so bad i shouldn't be around people and even my hair smells like dog and how can i live like that and blah, blah, blah. my favorite part was, "why did you eat all the bananas? i thought you didn't want any food from the store. i didn't buy them for you." (i told her i wouldn't eat any more of her precious food.) weird thing is, she's been home all week. she knows i haven't been leaving my room. and i'm obviously not in the best mood. what kind of fucked up mother makes her daughter feel more like shit than she already does?

naturally, i directed all of my anger against myself. again. because that's what i do. does it help? no. why do i do it? i don't know. i think it's just what i do. i suppress my emotions so that everyone else can be happy, even though that means i won't be. and it just makes me hate myself more, because i don't want to, but it's what i'm used to. the more i hate myself, the more i want to keep other people away from me. i don't want people around long enough to find out how sick, twisted and screwed up i really am. but the more i keep people away, the more i want to be near them. and even if i let myself be around other people, i can't stop comparing myself to them. and i fall short every time.

my head hurts.

thank you for trying to cheer me up, by the way. i'm sorry i couldn't. but i did appreciate it.

honestly.

the suffocating sense of woe.

i hate nights like this. i feel like such a failure.

my sister is always complaining about how she's the only one who goes to school and has a job, as if i wasn't trying to get a job. or as if i could. no one will hire me because i have no job experience, but i can't get any job experience if no one will hire me. i should have known that place wouldn't hire me. i applied once before; they didn't call. just because the manager's different doesn't mean i should have expected any different. and at least if they didn't want to hire me, they could have just told me instead of acting like they would hire me. and now that they haven't hired me, my mother will start complaining about how i don't have a job again. i used to get straight As in school and now i can barely focus during classes. i don't even do most of my homework because i have this fear of being re-labeled as a nerd. but that's stupid, because you have to pay for college. i'm a mediocre musician, i'm a mediocre student, and i'm disgustingly fat. plus whenever i feel bad, something starts my memory going and i have to relive some terrible event from my past. i'm always suppressing my emotions, but that only makes other emotions stronger. i want to get out of my house, and i can't, because i don't want to abandon my pets. i keep rejecting people who like me because i don't want to get hurt, but i end up liking people who reject and hurt me. all of these thoughts-- and sadly, more-- are just swarming together, much like this paragraph. random, but connected and painful.

i don't even know why i left my room. i should just stay in here. until the end of the month. it's not like i need to shower, i'm not going to see anyone. who cares about being sociable. i have everything i need in here. books, music, my cellphone (although it's not like i'd be using it anyway), teddy bears, weights,  paper,  crayons, and diet coke in my closet. like i said before, it's not like anyone notices whether or not i'm around.

i'm sorry i'm in such a low mood. i just hate false hope. and life has been tossing me a lot of that since i was young. it's not like i'm not trying to have a good life. i'm trying. i'm trying my best. but i don't even know what i'm doing wrong. what am i doing wrong?

maybe it's just me. maybe i'm just cursed. 

honestly.

"who has been noticing you sitting in your room reading?"

i think that's the most bittersweet question i've been asked all summer.

i told one of my best friends-- who we'll call hazel-rah, since he reminds me of that rabbit from watership down-- that i miss being unnoticed. well, let me back up a little. hazel-rah and i have been friends for a long time. he's obsessed with exercising. (i think he's aiming for the rocky horror physique.) i'm obsessed with food: the organization, avoidance or study of. we usually cheer each other up, confide in each other, or give each other much needed advice. anyway, today we were talking about college. he said he's looking forward to going back, since he'll have his own dorm room and stuff. i said i'm not looking forward to it, because i miss being unnoticed.

"who's been noticing you sitting in your room reading?"

no one. absolutely no one. i felt strange when i realized that i've been trying to avoid people who haven't even been looking for me. no one's noticed that i've been locked in my room, reading victor hugo, joseph heller, and anthony burgess. why am i putting so much effort into not spending time with people who don't even want to spend time with me? i didn't want to think about it, so i told him i meant when school starts, i'll miss solitude. and i will.

my problem is that i'm a nice person, to the point of caring about other people more than myself. sounds totally great, but it isn't. it's very unpleasant. i'm incapable of caring about myself at this point. for example, i was running to class one day because i was late and had a huge presentation. i ran past a girl who was doing her best to not let people notice she was crying. but did i notice? yes. and did i turn around? also, yes. i spent a good three minutes with her, making sure she was okay before i went to class. at that point, my teacher was already rolling her eyes. incidentally, i have to retake this class this semester, because little things like that add up. and 'i was trying to help someone' isn't an acceptable excuse. it isn't the helping people that i mind, it's the fact that i can't stop. i can't stop trying to make people happy, so i end up knowing everyone. then, because i know everyone, i can't get any time to myself. which makes me hate everyone. and because i hate them, i feel guilty (on top of feeling responsible for their happiness) so i try to help them. it's a vicious cycle.

hazel-rah's question really made me think. were people really trying to spend time with me before, or was i telling myself i didn't want them to so i wouldn't feel as bad? then i didn't want to think anymore. so i went to walmart, bought laxatives and diet cokes and downed twelve pills before i even got back home. (laxative free for almost a month and a half, and i ruined it in ten seconds.)

it's not that i don't want to spend time with other people. it's just not as easy as spending time alone. or more accurately, with pets. aside from some semi-judgmental gazes from my cat and some confused head tilts from my dog, it's basically like no one at home notices what i do. (the truth behind this statement would shock you.) frankly, i'm not sure anyone gives a damn what i do with my time. and that's fine by me.

honestly.

if i only had the nerve.

at this moment, 

i'd like nothing more

than to rush into the kitchen

fling the cupboards open,

crush all of the pasta,

spill all of the beans,

pour the juice into the sink,

throw the cereal away,

give the pretzels to raccoons,

feed the meatstuff to my dog,

fix the tuna for my cat,

set the oatmeal packets on fire,

put the dishes in the garage, 

mash all the potaoes,

donate the cans to charity,

make juice from the apples...

and then pour it in the toilet,

scrub the kitchen floor,

unplug all the tvs,

break all of the windows,

pause

and inhale deeply,

fluff all ten couch pillows,

mix, for myself, some coffee,

fill the rooms with books,

play my summer songs,

lay on the hardwood floor,

and let my mind drift endlessly.

but this is one list i'd better leave alone.

honestly.

happy anniversary, i suppose.

i looked in a mirror, for the first time in a while. i've got bags under my eyes that would make fester addams jealous. my skin is pallid, due to a lack of sunlight. i haven't looked like this since i was fifteen. back then, i did pretty much the same things i'm doing now. i stayed indoors during the day, emerging only at night. i slept very little. the only differences between now and then are that i'm reading novels instead of comic books, and i practice the guitar instead of the piano. if this keeps up, by the time this month is over, i'll be howling at moon, getting reacquainted with my old friend edgar allen poe, and i'll probably have cut myself off from other people entirely.

at any rate, it's been a year here. thank you. for being as amused with my life as i am, for not being completely disgusted with me, and for even bothering to cheer me up when i needed it. i don't always write what's on my mind, but when i do, you accept it. possibly. or you don't read it, which is still a small mercy in itself. either way, i'm touched.

while i don't lie to people i know, i'm not as honest with them as i am here. it's nice to get all this off of my chest from time to time. i had another blog once... but a teacher found it by accident and the fear shocked me into silence. oddly, he's one of my favorite people, and there was nothing truly personal on it, so it shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did. plus, if i ever got around to talking to someone i knew, he'd probably be at the top of the list. (also, he wrote an encyclopedia, which is a direct product of him being awesome. who DOES that?) anyway, i'm glad i can blog here. banana is the only person who knows i have a blog that i actually update regularly, and even she isn't allowed to read this.

although disney completely ruined notre dame de paris (as films inspired by literature usually end up), the hunchback of notre dame was a good movie. you know that scene, where quasimodo lifts esmeralda's body into the air while he frantically screams, "sanctuary! sanctuary!" this is my sanctuary.

honestly.

"you look hot in that."

have you ever guzzled two liters of water and then gotten on a scale? bad idea. it screws with your head. OBVIOUSLY. common sense would tell me not to get on a scale after drinking that much. but i seem to be lacking common sense.

damn you, thoreau, for making me far more impulsive than i usually am. (launch myself on every wave, eh? since i can't swim that was obviously terrible advice.)

after the scale incident (and after i got catch-22 in the mail, bones, which i ordered because i lost my copy), i asked my friend/classmate/neighbor if she wanted to walk down to the coffee shop. she agreed to. that's when i realized... i needed to get rid of all this extra water. (spoiler: i didn't, but read on.) so i put on a t-shirt, jeans and a heavy hoodie. in case you weren't aware, it's summer here, in the united states of america. and it's also hot as hell. and i went outside. you know, with the sun and the cloudless sky and all. i started sweating immediately. even before i left the front of my house. did i think, 'hey, maybe i should go back inside and take this damn thing off' ? no. i did not. and so we walked. she was wearing a sleeveless top and jeans and she was drenched in sweat in about ten minutes. so you can imagine how it was inside that hoodie. but could anyone tell? no, because it was THICKER THAN ROSIE O'DONNELL. we didn't even go to the coffee shop in the end. we went to the bank, to another store (where i picked up a job application) and then to her parents' house. where her brother was.

i think i'm losing my mind, because every time i hang out with one of my friends who has a brother my age, i find myself oddly drawn to them, attractive or not. i blame animal magnetism. and mania. since i was squinting-- i broke my glasses, in case you didn't know-- and was literally bathing in my own sweat, that wasn't a good time to even pretend to flirt with anyone. but did i?

YES. I DID.

i filled out the first two lines of that job application while making small talk with my friend's brother. and then he asked me if i realized that i was sweating through my jeans. before that, he gave me a tiny, awkward hug, in an attempt to be nice without getting any of my sweat on his body. yes, i did notice. right after that, i got lightheaded and almost fainted. then i started laughing at nothing in particular and talking to my good buddy peter, who is visible to no one but me. that's when they both told me to get the fuck in the bathroom, take my top off, and put on a clean short-sleeved shirt. good thing i did, because my t-shirt, under that obscene and unnecessary hoodie, was soaked. in sweat. it smelled SO BAD, i really can't even describe it. (decaying flesh comes very close.) i was about to cry in the bathroom of her parents' house, with her brother outside the door, because i really didn't want to take my hoodie off but i had to. despite the fact that i probably would have died (or at least ended up in the hospital), i really wanted to sweat. and sweat. and sweat. no matter how bad i smelled. but they insisted. and he picked up my filthy clothes (without being grossed out , amazingly) and put them in a plastic bag. nice kid. and then she tried to play matchmaker, by suggesting we hang out until he had to go back to college. (i'm assuming she was playing matchmaker, because why else would you suggest hanging out with someone who wears hoodies in almost ninety degree weather?)

he thought it was a good idea. (what?!) so she had us exchange numbers. (i repeat, what?!)

i don't even understand what happened today. it made as much sense as that movie, sucker punch. (spoiler: that movie makes no sense. in case my subtle hint wasn't enough.) between flirting with the manager of the place i got the job application from (which isn't surprising, since i've hit on several teachers at my school) and flirting with my friend's brother (which was suprising, ironically), i'm beginning to think that i am: a) not getting outside enough, and am becoming socially inept, or; b) spending too much time outdoors, when i should be inside, doing yoga with the windows shut, sweating until i lose weight. (bikram for cheap people.)

anywho, i'm going to apply for this job, since it's (not really, but kind of) walking distance from my house. and since i asked for an application. also, i'm going to hang out with my friend's brother, although i won't be flirting with him again, since his nickname for me is sweats. it's an improvement from that crazy girl with the glasses who plays guitar pretty well but is obviously a closet nerd trying to fit in with normal people, but still. ew. ew. ew. i'll probably hand in that application tomorrow, since i'm still a little lightheaded (which may be why this post is covered in parentheses). but right now, i'm going to shut the windows, turn the fan off, and do some intense yoga because, like i said, i'm obviously lacking common sense right now.

honestly.

tomorrow comes today.

carpe diem. fugit hora.

august is the last month in the summer. and then fall begins. and then when december comes, that'll be the last month in the year. and then january will be the first month of the new year. and then june-- the first month of summer. only to arrive at august again.

what am i getting at?

a month is a month. a day is a day. we live in the present. it sounds awesome to say, "i'll do better tomorrow." screw tomorrow. do better now. take it from me, the two headed turtle, queen of procrastination. every time it feels like there'll be no more time left, we rush into a flurry of action, only to be overwhelmed into inaction yet again. or worse, when the future seems uncertain and full of possibilities-- none of them all too bright-- we fall into despair. the future should seem uncertain. the possibilities are endless. we should do our best to make the most of our time. we should make ourselves proud.

you must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment.

fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land. 

there is no other land, there is no other life but this.

henry david thoreau.

maybe i've been reading too much poetry lately. maybe dead, absinthe-intoxicated writers have pumped their libertine blood into my veins. maybe i'm delirious from all the thoughts rushing through my mind. but it sounds like good advice to me.

honestly.

guilt is quite the motivator.

thanks for all the well wishing, friends. i'm feeling much better. three cheers for soup. hip, hip, hooray.

remember banana, my friend with whom i have a highly complex relationship? i found out she was bulimic a while ago. we went on a big girl's binge night out kind of thing. we hit up a few fast food places, a chinese store, and a pharmacy, where i told her all about how i was a secret laxative junkie. sometimes we don't see eye to eye and she pisses me off and makes me want to scream in her face, but she's more like my sister than my own sister. she would actually listen to me whine about any aspect of my life. she's stayed up with me until three a.m., crying over some idiot who wasn't worth it. sure, she doesn't always act like the greatest friend, but i feel more comfortable around her because of that. she's human. it's okay.

she's a really good friend. so naturally, i feel terrible because i've become more antisocial than usual. and i think she might benefit from a friendly visit. which i would totally do, if not for the fact that she lives three hours away and i don't drive. i want to help her out, but i can barely get myself out of the house. so in a desperate attempt to keep myself from doing what i did the summer i was fourteen-- staying inside, watching horror movies, listening to heavy metal, and laying in bed reading jenny and the cat club-- i've made  a list of things i have to do before the end of august. i'm going to put it here, in case i lose motivation.

to do (before 08.31.12)

clean all surfaces and windows in my room

take b.j. to a groomer

finish entire book list

arrange books by genre

organize clothes by possible weather conditions

sleep in the backyard at least twice

write three short stories, possibly for school lit. magazine

write one song

mop room floor

clean basement, as well as other rooms in the house

buy new sneakers or boots

get new glasses before school starts

visit banana, help her cheer up

hopefully i'll actually do all of this. or at least try to. if not, the end of summer will find me laying in a fog of my own stench, slowly wasting away. although i must admit, the wasting away part sounds pretty good.

honestly.

doth mine ears deceive me?

we got that new fridge. according to my sister (the stupid bitch), it's so big that even I could fit in it. actually, her exact words were "why is this fridge so big? why could you fit in this fridge?" she's a bit of a cunt.

the twenty my mother left when she went on her cruise? my sister asked me if she could borrow it. i told her she could because she said she'd pay me back. (what a load of bullshit.) what sucks is that i totally wanted to buy laxatives and i couldn't when i went to the store. and of course my sister already started opening the stuff i bought, which is messed up because she would never buy groceries. ever. and she's always complaining about the food i get and how it's all shit, but she eats it anyway. she really made me angry.

so i kind of lost my head for a bit, went through all of the cabinets, desperately looking for laxatives. you know what i found? epsom salt.

epsom salt. (it's probably from hell. just assuming.)


it can be used for muscle soreness, garden fertilizer and it's also a saline laxative. garden fertilizer and a saline laxative?! wtf. that should have tipped me off. it's evil, i swear. tastes like crap. once you get it down the hatch, you wait for a bit and then... well, there you go. the good part of it is there are no cramps (as far as i know). the bad part is that your stomach gurgles endlessly and you can hear water sloshing around. that could just be me, though. i drank a liter right after, trying to get the taste out of my mouth.


don't want to get too detailed here. but let's just say that i'll never try replacing store bought laxatives with anything i find in my cabinets again. on the bright side, it made me really sick. so sick, in fact, that my mother suggested i try a "water flush" to get toxins out of my body. basically i just got my mother's permission to do a water fast. because of epsom salt. which is still evil.

don't ever use it. i mean, this worked out for me, yes. but i wouldn't want anyone to do this. ever. people who take this are either desperate, crazy or some weird mixture of the two. like me. seriously. don't ever use it. unless you want to end up so ill that your parents tell you to stop eating for a while. it sounds good. BUT AT WHAT COST?!

the end did not justify the means.

honestly.

oh and i totally noticed i have a couple new followers. (hello there!) and it would be really awesome, if i'm not following you, to link me to your blog. if you've got one. i wanna know what's going on in your life too, kay? <3 

fearless girl gone chicken-shit.

i found my diary (diaries, really) from when i was younger. man, i was a weird little kid. the entire first half of my diary from when i was six is just me saying who's fat and who's skinny in my classes. (the rest of it was filled with disturbingly accurate inferences about my family, which were only confirmed by time.) i always ended up with the skinny half of the class. i didn't really notice until i looked at class pictures but i really was ridiculously skinny when i was younger. i went to private school, and my stockings and sweater were really loose. yeah, tons of little kids are skinny. but i can't help feeling proud of myself.

that reminds me of this day in second grade when they served beans, rice and salad for lunch. with something else. i don't really remember. but i only ate the salad and refused to touch the other stuff. then the lunch lady tried to make me eat. but i wouldn't. not until my dad had to leave work to come to the school and make me eat. let me just say, my younger self was pretty badass.

my ten year old self was slightly less hardcore, in her gymnastics leotard. at least, directly in front of the teachers. but she wreaked her fair share of havoc. stink bombs, food fights, detention (if i got caught) on several occasions-- and people thought i was a good kid? how did my parents cover those up? of course, my eleven year old self also had the balls to curse out her sister in front of her father, a level i really don't think i'll ever get back to.

and the nerve of my fifteen year old self! she hung out with her twenty year old friend for five hours because she felt like it, got home at nine, got in a shitload of trouble and had the nerve to go to her room proud of it. i mean, she wouldn't have written a twelve page story for her sister (who apparently can't do her own homework) without compensation and she certainly wouldn't have lent her twenty dollars on top of it. so there you go. i'm half the girl i used to be.

what a shame.

on a brighter note, i've developed some sort of kitchen-related OCD. so i need to have the kitchen in a certain way before i can make food to eat. it's funny, because all i need it to be is clean, but my family keeps messing that up. also, the food turned out amazing. (mainly the zatarain's rice mix/boca burger thing.) it was binge-worthy. and i would have done it, if it wasn't for my hungry hippo mother who not only took half of the entire pot (and some for lunch the next day), but also finished it when she got home yesterday. don't you hate/love when you finally decide, "i'm going to eat this," and someone ruins it for you? it's like, i really wanted to eat that...but i guess it's best that i didn't. well, crisis averted. (and calories avoided.) i think the trauma of that moment threw me off of this awful plateau i've been on. a sixth of a pound. (oh, wow.) hopefully, it just keeps going down.

i've got to make it up to my younger self. maybe i'll do something reckless this weekend. but in the long term, the only way to make it up to her would be to get back to that size, where not even a small was small enough. this time, i'll try not to label other people based on their weight.

or at least have the heart to not write it down.

honestly.

i'm not lazy; i just like conserving energy.

the temperature's dropped and i'm sick. or, to make it sound more fun, i'm cold and i have a cold. it's not so bad, i suppose. i watched amelie with my dog. not sure if it was on the list i made, but something reminded me of it, so i watched it today while i sneezed and blew my nose in bed. it was quite a lovely picture.

today i got a real shock when my sister tried to reach into the cupboard for a paper plate. she couldn't reach it, so i went over and reached up and got it. i said we were the same height, so it was weird that she couldn't reach it. she said i was obviously bigger than her. (of course, i heard that in two ways, but i knew what she meant.) that pissed me off because: a) i like knowing my exact measurements and, b) i made her dinner last night but she had eaten too much before she got home, so she put it in the freezer, only to end up buying herself an entire pizza pie. so we stood in front of each other and fully expecting to find myself looking straight at her, i realized i was looking... down. she just went to her doctor the other day and he said she's 5'3'' so there's no way i'm 5'3'' and i must be at least 5'5''.

i can't be getting bigger; i thought girls stopped growing after a certain age. "average," she said. "average girls." so, obviously obsessed with-- shit, everything lately-- i ran upstairs and measured myself against the wall. i measured with centimeters. i measured with inches. and, unless my measurements are incorrect-- or my sister lied about her doctor and i'm imagining things-- i'm like, a whole inch and a half taller than i was last year.

this sucks.

on the bright side, my bmi is so much lower, which is always nice to know. unfortunately, that also means being eighty five pounds would have been more like, ninety. i didn't want to get bigger. i want to get smaller. i LIKED being 5'3''. or thinking i was, anyway. damn body never does what you want it to. anyway, height doesn't matter, i'm still aiming for eighty five. i know, most people want to get taller. well, i'm not like most people. in countless ways.


for example, i have this thing about cleaning, where i can't just clean one thing and then walk away. (it sounds like an excuse for leaving things dirty, but it isn't.) so when i woke up yesterday and washed the dishes, i also ended up cleaning the kitchen, mopping the floor and re-organizing the cupboards. again. anyway, my mother gets home around tomorrow afternoon. i was going to make dinner for her, because it would calm her down so she wouldn't completely flip out. despite the fact that her kitchen will be spotless. (the fridge won't be here until tuesday. they keep pushing it back.) unfortunately, i felt like if i made her dinner, i'd have to eat some too. i had this entire, low-calorie (for her) meal planned out, and then i realized my sister wasn't going to be home, and (without her there to make it a 'family meal') just because mother's eating it doesn't mean i have to. i should totally share this with you.

so. zatarran's dirty rice mix. 130 calories per serving. boca burger, vegan. 100 calories per burger. (i use a non-stick spray to fry, so no extra calories there.) and then i was thinking of adding in some diced tomatoes with garlic. which would be around... oh, i dunno, 50 calories at most per serving. the boca burger would be minced (since i don't have the actual package of pre-ground vegan meatstuff) and everything would just be tossed together in the most delightful way. it would only be about two hundred and eighty calories per serving. which isn't bad for a family dinner. i wish i could add a nice green salad to that, but without a fridge, we've only had frozen and packaged food. so maybe i'll add a veggie stir-fry instead. i don't know. we'll see.

i could eat with her, that way after the fridge comes she'll probably let me buy groceries for it so i can cook again. (i don't cook serious meals often, but when i do it's practically orgasmic.) that would be good, since i finally finished my list of safe foods. but if i don't eat with her, she'll not only say she doesn't want to eat whatever i make, but she'll probably start complaining about how she left and no one cares to spend time with her and blahblahblahblahblah.

maybe i'll eat with her, so i can buy groceries. and laxatives. i miss having them around. prunes just don't compare.

honestly.

just blowing off steam. don't mind me.

the less sleep i get, the less i want to eat. but at the same time, the less sleep i get, the more i hate people. i've spent most of this week indoors, since my mother's away on her own personal vacation and i don't like leaving the house unattended too long. (my sister likes coming home late, which is totallly unfair.) anyway, this total poobrain from across the street came asking for my mother today.

I HATE THIS GUY. (AND ALSO, I NEEDED A PLACE TO DIRECT SOME OF THIS ANGER I'VE BEEN SUPPRESSING AGAINST MY SISTER.)

when i was really young, my parents had a little white '89 ford festiva. BEST. CAR. EVER. no kidding. i can see myself proudly driving one. but anyway, it was a piece of crap, this one. always breaking down or smoking suddenly and without warning. but that's what made it fun. never knew if you'd get where you were going. me and that car... we had some good times.

and then mother said it was time to get a new car. YEAH, NO THANKS, MA. I'LL STICK WITH SILVERWINGS. (which is what i named the car. everything special deserves a name.) but obviously, since i was six, no one would listen to me. so it was byebye, silverwings and hello maroon dodge caravan. took a while for me to get over silver, but when i did, rooney (the new car, as in marooney. not very imaginative, hm? BITE ME.) and i became pretty close. i fell asleep in his backseat, we went on trips to new jersey and pennsylvania and virginia, we moved here with that car.

and then it broke. and we got a new car. and then daddy died. (obviously, some time lapses between there.) and mother said-- not too long ago-- it was time to move that "trash heap" out of the backyard because it was "decreasing the property value". YOU KNOW WHAT'S DECREASING THE PROPERTY VALUE? HER FACE.

so this jerk from across the street has been asking for it for a while. why? because it's a fucking awesome car, that's why. and she GAVE IT TO HIM. bits of my childhood were in that car. hell, some nights when i was in high school, i slept in that car just to be away from her. and today this shit-eating old dickwad came up to me while i was sitting on the steps to tell me that the car was missing a few parts. WELL FUCK. YOU GOT IT FOR FREE YOU ASSHOLE. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU COMPLAINING FOR. and then he goes on to say he'd like to ask my mother to go snooping around in the garage.

OVER MY BLOODY CORPSE.

like hell he's stepping in that garage.

call me over-protective or... maybe overly loyal, but i don't want people fucking up that garage any more than my stupid cunt of a mother already has. me and my papa bear spent a lot of time in there, playing with tools and fixing our bikes. and we have everything in a certain order, see? now if he goes in there, he'll try taking stuff. stuff that doesn't belong to him any more than my car does!

like i told my friend on the phone-- if he so much as touches my garage door or walks into my backyard, i'll totally set his bushes on fire. DON'T FUCK WITH PYROMANIACS.

and my sister's been asking me-- for FIVE DAYS IN A ROW-- if i wanted chinese food. NO MEANS NO. but apparently, she won't stop FUCKING ASKING because mother dearest left a twenty on the FUCKING table. WHY. WASTE. EVEN A PENNY OF TWENTY DOLLARS. ON. FUCKING. TAKEOUT.

i wanted to buy laxatives. i needed to buy laxatives.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN REDUCED TO?!

PRUNES.

THIS ISN'T A NURSING HOME.

and to top it all off, this psycho bitch has been sleeping in mom's bedroom. where the phone with the damn answering machine is. THE ONLY ANSWERING MACHINE. THE MACHINE, NOT SURPRISINGLY, THAT THE DELIVERY COMPANY CALLED AND LEFT A MESSAGE ON. they were supposed to deliver the fridge. TODAY. if my mother comes back from vacation and we don't have a new fridge, it'll be my fault. because of course the younger sister who stays at home because of deep seeded personal insecurities is supposed to take care of EVERYTHING.

SO NOW I HAVE TO KEEP THIS STUPID OLD FART OFF MY PROPERTY, WHILE NOT LETTING HIM FIND OUT MY MOTHER'S AWAY, AND I HAVE TO FIND A WAY TO GET THE FRIDGE HERE BEFORE SUNDAY AFTERNOON. WHEN MY MOTHER GETS HOME.

AND MY SISTER'S BUYING TAKE OUT. I DON'T NEED FRIES AT 10:15 AT NIGHT.

BUSFDLJGKJDAL.

..............................

phew. got a lot of tension out of my neck just now. that's better. sorry about that.

honestly.

this... is pretty gross.

before you think, "omigawd, she threw up on her dog and then stepped in her cat's vomit and slipped, only to faceplant into its litterbox," it's just sweat. but it's a lot of sweat.

i mean, i'm literally laying in a puddle of sweat. even my dog is slightly put-off. so i might have overdone it a little. i think my legs are planning to detach themselves after what i've put them through. my arms aren't hurting as much, but i'm going easy on them today. (tomorrow is another story.) i'm trying to make sure my entire body doesn't revolt against me. enthusiasm. i have it. a lot of it.

so i broke in my weights. (although, they're not really like sneakers... you don't really 'break them in'. but you know that.) accidentally kicked my dog in the face. I KNOW. IT'S TERRIBLE. I'M SORRY. IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. he got over it, but now if he sees the weights in my hands, he gives me a sour glance before crawling under the bed, only to emerge when i've set them down again. gotta love him, the scrawny bastard. recently arrived: two five pound dumbbells, two ten pound dumbbells. i think i'll leave the ten pounders alone for now. mainly because as of this moment, sweat is to me as rain is to the amazon.

yes, i am serious. i told you it was gross.

i feel a little bad because i find superskinny me to be really motivating, with exercise at least. (mainly louise.) the worst part is that she'd probably hate that, you know? ....ah well. i can't do anything about that.

anyway, right before the last workout i did-- which left an actual puddle of sweat on my floor, much to my cat's disgust-- i cooked dinner. it was awesome. touching the uncooked spaghetti, touching the cooked spaghetti, touching the frozen green beans, touching the cooked green beans, touching the frozen boca burgers, touching the cooked boca burgers-- it was so fun. i had so much fun cooking and playing with the food that when i split it into two plates (one for me, one for my sister) i made sure to give her seventy five percent of what i cooked. don't worry, i only played with my food. and i gave her a ridiculous amount of food. i just didn't want her to buy takeout. i don't feel comfortable with it. plus i managed to fill my plate and stay under three hundred calories. *high fives all around*

ah. and i bought nail polish. three colors, in fact.

metamorphosis-- a metallic blue.

fly with me-- a metallic green.

tokyo pearl-- a metallic white.

i painted my thumbs white, my index and pinkie fingers blue and my middle and ring fingers green. not sure why. just felt like it, i suppose. i was going to get black nail polish, because that's my favorite, but that's like my mother's warning signal. i used to wear only black and hole up in my room, listening to dillinger escape plan. now i only wear jeans and hoodies and hole up in my room, listening to bjork. this, in her opinion, is progress.

but you know what would be real progress? getting under one hundred and ten .

honestly.

that explains a lot.

firstt, thanks for the suggestions. jax, i love a tree grows in brooklyn. you have no idea. everything else, i'm new to. i'll do my best to get through all of 'em. (or as many as i can.) bones, it's funny, i have catch-22 on my shelf and i pass it every time i make these book stacks. time to add it to the pile, i see. rayya, tangled was AWESOME. so i would not mind rewatching it. (bad ass female character? it's got my seal of approval.) depressed skinny mess, reading is therapeutic. you're right. now i'll add every old school disney movie to the list. (even though snow white scares the hell out of me at the end. and my cat.) but like, thanks for that.


that list... is no laughing matter. i realized that today. i watched i know what you did last summer, willy wonka and the chocolate factory and beetlejuice. and i read massive. so i barely made a dent in that thing. but that could be because i got my weights in the mail today. (awww yeahh.) i was happy; i think the delivery guy was pissed beyond words. i exercised... and then i passed out. good times. and then i watched the machinist. or part of it, anyway, before i passed out again.

christian bale is totally awesome. enjoy it. breathe it in. roll him up and smoke him. american psycho was always one of my favorite movies. he's the olympian ideal in the movie. and the blood and murders just make everything better. (silver axe-- brilliant.) now i have another reason to stare at him in semi-infatuated awe. what kind of actor starves themselves for four months for a movie?



pfffffffffffffffttttt.

that was a joke. a bad one. sorry.

but he really did lose a ton of weight. apparently he lived off of one apple and a cup of coffee a day for four months. look. gasp. stop breathing. (i did, for about a minute after i saw him.) he weighs himself in the movie, writes it on a post-it and sticks it underneath other post-its with his weight on it. but then, he plays an insomniac with obvious issues. (because you'd have to be mental to be that obsessed with your weight.)

on the left: american psycho. on the right: the machinist.  

actually, seeing him like that made me remember how skinny my dad was. i think one day he went out and got a scale (the one i use now), a barbell and a couple of weights (WHICH SOME ASSHOLE FAMILY MEMBERS TOOK) and then came home and started exercising religiously every morning. (that would explain the protein shake mix i found in the kitchen...) a couple months later, he was making extra notches in his belt. and he bought another scale for the bathroom downstairs. i could tell you every meal he ate while i was in high school. partially because he had the same thing every day and because he had this rule about not eating from other people. (tea and one buttered roll for breakfast. ginger ale or coca cola with a bag of plantain chips for lunch. salad for dinner. tea before bed.) but anyway, at five feet and eleven inches, i guess one hundred and twenty eight pounds was kind of low for him. come to think of it, i thought it was normal. my aunt is like that, you see. except she uses a treadmill. ...huh. 

actually, come to think of it, all of my aunts are either grossly fat or ridiculously skinny. well, only one is ridiculously skinny. the others are huge.

..... i was having a miniature epiphany, and then my dog rolled over. so adorable... with the little paws twitching in his sleep and everything. (feel free to barf rainbows.)

wait. here it is. 

.... no i lost it. but it had something to do with self-motivation, protein shakes and exercise. and not having people tell me i look like i could be my mean, fat, controlling aunt's daughter. something about getting to eighty five pounds, no matter what.

right. that's it. i can do this. because for what it's worth, i don't think i could live with not doing this.

honestly.

welcome to the dollhouse.

i love todd solondz. every single movie he's ever done, i've completely loved. (with the exception of palindromes, which i haven't seen yet.) my favorite, without a doubt, has to be welcome to the dollhouse. it's pretty funny, but funny tragic. like the cable guy, except more realistic and therefore, so much worse.

movies and books. that's what i've got stacked up. wonder how long it'll last?

books.

first on the list is perfect by ellen hopkins. if you haven't yet, you have to read it. there's also crank, impulse, burned, tricks, glass and identical, all by the same author. and all in this stack. then there's massive by julia bell. which i've reread so many times i could probably quote it. no, i'm lying. but i have read it a good number of times. looking for alaska by john green. also brilliant. the song of the lioness series by tamora pierce. four books in total, each one exceptional. a little princess by frances hodgson burnett. klepto by jenny pollack. thirteen reasons why by jay asher. i have mixed feelings about this one. it's good, yeah, but then it's a little fucked up, you know? forcing people to live with that level of guilt for the rest of their lives is screwed up, even for a fictional character. girl by blake nelson. two way street by lauren barnholdt. story of a girl and once was lost, both by sara zarr. when the bough breaks by jonathan kellerman. i absolutely love any book with alex delaware in it. never thought i'd be into psychological-mystery type novels but just so happens, i am. blood lure by nevada barr. i'm not sure if i love this because of the story or because her name is nevada barr. it's terrible, i know. abel's island by william steig, which is actually a children's book. BUT A DAMN GOOD ONE. beyond good and evil by friedrich nietzsche, just to keep the ol' brain cells in working condition. (heidegger? i think not.) girl reporter snags crush by linda ellerbee. killing mr. griffin by lois duncan, an obvious summer read. and if i find i know what you did last summer, i'll read that too. forever by judy blume. maybe tiger eyes too, if i can find it. (i have a bad habit of carrying my books around everywhere i go. so they could be in the basement... or at my aunt's house.) romeo and juliet by-- well, if you don't know this one, you're a sad, sorry bastard. no offence. no, actually, yes. be offended. where was i.... right. romeo and juliet by william shakespeare. macbeth is more to my liking, but how can i not read this? howliday inn by james howe. stick figure by lori gottlieb. ....damn. i just reaalized how many books i've got here... dreamland, this lullaby and the truth about forever by sarah dessen. ash and huntress by malinda lo. the dark elf trilogy by r. a. salvatore. because deep down, i am a nerd. and i'm proud of it. jenny and the cat club by esther averill. an unquiet mind by kay redfield jamison and wasted by marya hornbacher, both of which i started and... never quite got around to finishing. and a couple of dog books-- old yeller by fred gipson, a dog's life by ann m. martin and strider by beverly cleary.

movies.

jinkies. here goes. butterflies are free. watership down. young frankenstein. (give him the seda-give!) labyrinth. donnie darko. talladega nights. a fish called wanda. a bug's life. bambi. airplane. beauty and the beast. carrie. cool world. juno. liquid sky. on the waterfront. peter pan. (the cartoon. love peter pan. so much. like, a ridiculous amount. more than jeff buckley, even.) puss in boots. ratatouille. sea of love. shaun of the dead. some like it hot. spirit, the horse movie from ten years ago. totally epic. team america: world police. pick of destiny, tenacious d, ya know. the jerk. the mask. the princess and the frog. the princess bride. the producers. the cable guy. the royal tenenbaums. aladdin. benji. a goofy movie. (woooooo~ go max!) mulan. pocahontas. the secret of NIMH. i know what you did last summer. the virgin suicides. girl interrupted. kissing jessica stein, which is totally hilarious. may. better off dead. leon-- the professional. weird science. sweeny todd. the nightmare before christmas. corpse bride. how the grinch stole christmas. recess: school's out. willy wonka and the chocolate factory. and obviously, welcome to the dollhouse.

i tried to keep it fairly even, between the books and movies, so my brain won't turn to rot. but i'll probably have to read some more nietzsche or something to balance it out. if you think of any movie or book or somethin, i'd appreciate a suggestion or two. i'm trying to find as many things to keep me holed up in my room as i can, so i don't have to socialize with my sister. (is that bad? i hope not.)

gotta thank lina for looking for alaska, seeing as how she's the one who introduced me to it. (it wasn't just the quote on her blog, it was the whole, "i highly recommend this book" thing that she did.) so thanks for that. i do enjoy a good book. 

now, time to refill my water bottle and get my dog ready for a late night walk. if my sister will let me go out this late.

PFFFT.

who am i kidding. she'd probably love it if i didn't come back until after she left for work tomorrow.

honestly.

deenie's the beauty and helen's the brain. or so i've heard.

i don't know if you've ever read deenie by judy blume. it's really good. my sister read it because she had scoliosis and so naturally i read it because it was in the house. i must admit it was a little creepy because growing up, my sister was like deenie and i was like helen. she was the 'pretty' one-- mainly because she liked dressing up and even as a child, i preferred jeans and hoodies to airy floral dresses-- and i was the brain. if i got a b (or anything lower than that), i not only shocked my parents but my teachers as well. that's probably why i don't care about school now. but anyway.

mother dearest left for her cruise this morning. she left a twenty on the table, obviously for food. for a week. with a broken fridge in the house. that's fine by me, you know. but not my sister. as soon as she woke up, she wanted something to eat.

"did you see the twenty on the table?" yes. "do you want me to order some tofu for you or something?" nope, i'm fine. "......" do you want something to eat? "what are you going to eat then?" oh you know, i've got boca burgers and stuff in the freezer. "okay, cool. make me some. and we have to clean up this kitchen. and wash your plates right after you eat." alright.

that ended the conversation. so i made two. (one hundred calories each, love them.) she ate both. sooo, thanks for that, sis. then i ended up cleaning the kitchen on my own. correction: she washed a plate. so she helped too, technically. and since i started cleaning, i figured, ...why not just organize everything? so i ended up cleaning the cupboards out and rearranging all of the food. found some pretty good stuff hidden in there: couple boxes of tea, a container of protein shake mix (although i'm not sure who put it there...or when), some oatmeal packets (also one hundred calories each), cans of fruit and chocolate syrup. not really sure what i'd do with the chocolate syrup...

i think i'll probably end up cooking all the meals for this week, which should be fun. if it's cooking for other people, i can cook without tasting and serve without eating. that wasn't really an issue anyway, since only about ten percent of the food in here is vegan and the other ninety is barely vegeterian. plus, since we agreed to wash our plates right after we eat, i don't have to act like i've eaten anything.

food aside, i just hope we make it through this week without beating each other senseless.

honestly.

don't people knock anymore? geez.

last night, my mother was just rattling on and on about how she was leaving for a cruise and the house was a mess and i needed to make sure my sister didn't leave food upstairs because she didn't want roaches...etc. it was pretty much a run on sentence  and then my mother went somewhere (this is where it got strange) and my sister came home not too long after she left. she practically begged me to do this homework assignment for her all week, some really cliche short story that was five thousand words. i didn't finish it. i mean, she could write some of it. so i sent her most of the story and told her to finish herself. then she goes, "you're such a disappointment. i just asked you to write this for me. you're such a disappointment." total bitch. she repeated that like, twenty times. and i got really irritated, and i ate a bunch of veggie burgers in my room while she finished her homework in hers. then, when i was sure i couldn't eat another bite, i ran to the bathroom, got my toothbrush and ran to the downstairs bathroom.

standing in front of the toilet. totally about to puke. all of a sudden, i hear my sister running down the stairs. i pretend i'm playing with makeup in the mirror and she just barges into the bathroom. never mind how rude that was, she had this look on her face like, "I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE UP TO" and she spent a good five minutes making up some bullshit reason why she came in without knocking. and then afterwards, she gives me this disgusted look and goes back upstairs. and leaves me to take care of business.

i'm not a huge fan of puking, but you gotta do what you gotta do sometimes.

on the bright side, after that, i felt so gross that i ordered weights and some exercise videos (unfortunately, it wasn't made in the eighties...) from amazon last night and went roller skating for an hour in the park this morning. then i lay around in bed, getting up only to fill myself with water before collapsing uncomfortably beside my dog. who, for the record, is probably like, "what the fuck is wrong with this family..." if dogs curse.

and when my mom came home, i made this lame suggestion like, "maybe we should buy snacks for the house...with the fridge broken...while you're away..." because i really wanted to buy some laxatives. and then when we went into the store, i saw one of those mega packs of ex-lax and it was ON SALE. (as it should always be.) so i put it in the cart, but then i was like, ugh... questions and... mothers... and cashiers... so i put it back. and we ended up buying food.

SO. that backfired.

i really have to plan these things better.

honestly.

you're kidding, right?

i like practicing my guitar at a stream near my house. it's really lovely, sparks my creativity and usually no one's there. can't play in front of my house, apparently, because "the neighbors need their sleep." AT FUCKING FOUR IN THE AFTERNOON. "and one of the neighbors has a baby." THAT'S THREE YEARS OLD. (yes, mother. you make a good argument.) it's a decent half hour walk to get there from my house, and with a guitar on my back, i burn a good amount of calories on the round trip. but lately, people have started fishing there.

ew.

i'm not saying that because i'm a vegan, because i'm not one of those vegans. but the water (no exaggeration) looks like every hobo in america came and took a shit in it. really. i'm serious. moving on, though... i was practicing and these people were fishing and it was fine for a while. then one of them moved downstream and saw me sitting there, and when he went back, they turned up their stereo. assholes. so i left. i'm not a fan of confrontation.

then i came home. and my mother came home not too long after. the first thing she said was,

WHY ARE YOU OPENING THE DOOR LIKE THAT; I DON'T HAVE MONEY FOR FIXING IT.

....that wasn't important. the second thing she said was,

WHY ARE YOU STAYING HOME AND EATING ALL DAY. LOOK AT THIS SINK, FULL OF DISHES... CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT. ALL YOU DO IS COOK AND EAT.

i found that absolutely hilarious, because i've only eaten twice this week: last night and this afternoon, and it was one veggie burger that i split into two parts. on one plate. and even though she gave me change to buy lunch (since the fridge is broken and all) i bought shampoo instead. and besides the ONE PLATE that i used, i only used the kettle (still on the stove) and my cup (washed and put away). but obviously, telling her that wouldn't have been a good idea. in fact, for about ten minutes after she said that, i was tempted to cook a bunch of stuff and eat it in front of her. but... that's not helping anyone, obviously.

plus, my best friend FINALLY realized he isn't in love with his girlfriend-- which everyone's known for ages now-- just in time to fall for some german bitch who he didn't even talk to that much before she went back to germany. (i'm sure she's a lovely girl. i'm just tied up too tight right now.) he said she wasn't beautiful "in society's eyes, probably..." and my first thought was "so...she's fat." which is totally harsh of me. like, she could have been balding or had braces or something. but regardless of all that, it's like, DUDE, why are you with this girl?  you obviously can't talk to her about anything. she doesn't like you for who you are, just who you have to pretend to be around her. PLUS you've obviously moved on from her.

and the best part? some neighbor i've never talked to (and i mean NEVER) invited me and my fam jam to his son's graduation party next sunday. just because his son graduated at the top of his class or something like that. i mean, who cares. if he finds a decent job, THEN let's celebrate.

honestly.

twitterpated.

my dog is a stalker. and he's possibly gay. actually... can dogs be gay? (i'm assuming legally blonde was drawing from real life, just a bit.)

yesterday, i was walking my dog, B.J. he's terribly adorable. also, he's terribly energetic and aggresively friendly. we ran into a dog and its owner on the way back. the dog, across the street was barking up a storm and B.J. wasn't about to go home without saying hi, so i asked the guy if it was okay for us to come over and he said, sure, why not.

my glasses broke, by the way, so i couldn't see what this person looked like from across the street. and i didn't care.

UNTIL I SAW HIM.

*drool*

anywho, our dogs are sniffin each other. i'm making awkward dog jokes while trying to not squint at this random person who-- no doubt in my mind-- was trying to go home. all of a sudden i look down and to my horror, B.J. is trying to get on top of this other dog. he's very tiny. probably weighs about seven pounds right now. the other dog must've been at least... sixty? seventy pounds? i'm guessing. i tell the guy my dog is a boy and he says, "oh so is mine. i guess they're gay then."

WHICH WAS BASICALLY MY CUE TO GET THE HECK OUTTA THERE.

i decided not to think about it too much because as far as i'm concerned, i'm still huge. and i don't really feel like being socially awkward due to low self-esteem and yada yada yada. but then today, B.J. and i are walking, and suddenly he's following a scent. (i could tell, because he has a weird sort of twitch that goes through his body when he finds what he's looking for.) i let him lead. wouldn't ya know it, we ended up in front of this house and the dog was in the front yard.

was it cool? certainly, if you're a dog. if you're a human? ...not so much. i used to say if it feels like stalking and looks like stalking... it must be a coincidence. but it turns out that's not how that saying goes. yeahh. but now i know where this person lives. which i didn't want to know, or particularly need to know. but knowledge is power. not really sure how that helps me though. i mean, it would've been great to run into that guy again (and his amazing eyes) but seeing as how i haven't eaten since this past saturday and it's a bit hot out, i'd probably swoon in front of him. i don't think i can pull that off gracefully. my sister said not to get my hopes up, as i tend to do. (what can i say? i love excitement.) i didn't even expect to run into that person or dog again.

i guess B.J. did pretty good. i should give him a treat. (and a bath.)

honestly.

oh, and jackie~ totally missed you <3 can't read your blog anymore, though. (whyyyy?!) bit heartbroken. anywho, i hope you're doing well.

go to sleep, go to sleep...

my best friend and one of his other best friends were drinking together last night. he decided to pass the phone so he could steal some more wine. it was cool, making a new friend. since my interests are fairly widespread, it isn't hard for me to talk with people. but it did suck when they said i was pretty cool. for a girl, anyway.

i mean, it was a lovely thought and i totally appreciated it for all of fifteen seconds. and then i caught a glimpse of my thighs. just laying on the bed. and, i dunno, my face fell. i stayed awake all night and finally passed out at ten, only to wake up two hours later. and i've been awake since then. i haven't eaten, because i keep thinking about how fat i am.

one of my other friends has started exercising ferociously. i asked him how often he exercises and he said almost every day, for about six hours. very cool. i wish i could do that, but i can't function at all in the summer. i tried skating for an hour today and i came home literally soaked in sweat. absolutely disgusting. but it was good, i suppose. halfway through the hour, my heart was pounding and i felt like collapsing. but i waited until i came home to do that.

two hours later, i'm still not tired. 

i would drink some tea but my mom brought home something from a co-worker. a kettle or two of that later, felt like a mini version of the night i drank a bottle of prune juice. i don't know what it is, but i'm not drinking any more of it for a while. (laxative tea, maybe? i always dreamed of that...)

our fridge broke a few days ago, so all there is to eat are some canned fruit, beans, frozen veggies and veggie meat. along with other crap. like crackers. oddly, i want to eat less because my options were taken away.

oh well.

maybe i'll go try to fall asleep again. i want to sleep.

honestly.

this means war.

ever since my sister moved back in, she's been dropping these totally fucked up lines every now and again.

the other day, i was walking around the house and she said, "damn. look at those thighs. you really are your mother's daughter." thank you for fucking with my self image even more and comparing me to the last person on earth i want to be associated with. later, the same day, she goes, "where did you get all those tits? i mean, i can't even gain three pounds, much less go up a bra size."

and then last saturday, we went upstate with some of her friends and in the car, she goes, "i ate four breakfasts the other day and i couldn't gain any weight. but don't worry, i'll keep at it and one day, i'll be like you people." you people? what the fuck? i asked her how the weather was up on her high horse. because i didn't feel like cursing. but then the icing on the cake was when we ran into some people i knew when i was little. and this lady (lucky for her, i have no idea who she is) goes, "wow! she's so BIG now." yeah, okay, i grew like five inches since you saw me last, but i'm still short. and then someone was like, "isn't it weird how the younger sister ends up bigger than the older one?" uh, no? it isn't? who the fuck are you people?!

so that, combined with a healthy dose of weight jokes from my sister kinda started a cat fight in the backseat of her friend's car. classy, eh? although i was totally enraged, i made sure not to punch her in the face. i feel like that's just wrong, hitting a girl there.

it's funny, though. when i was younger, i spent most of my time trying to get as close to her as possible. now i know what a bitch she is and i can't get away from her. life is such a cruel mistress.

well, you know, whatever.

for old time's sake, i gotta bring this up. NEVER GOT THAT DAMN TREADMILL. but i gave up on it, since i'm prettty sure that lady's losing her memory. so reminding her wouldn't do much. and it's not that big of a deal. so i got skates. which feels like a bad idea in retrospect, because the sidewalk in my area is treacherous, even when i'm walking carefully.

at any rate, i set up my old tent in the backyard. it's pretty cozy. and whenever i get hungry but don't feel like eating (it's not a contradiction, i swear) i zip myself up inside it. not working too well right now though, since it's hot as camel balls outside and i might drag myself back indoors.

anywho, enjoy your day today. and if it goes to shit, well, fuck today then. there's always tomorrow.

honestly.

abracadabra.

it's been a while.

to put it mildly.

a lot of things were going on, i suppose. fighting with my mom hasn't been physical, but i'm not sure if that's because i keep myself locked up in my room or because i keep her locked out of it. either way, it doesn't matter. despite the fact that i haven't broken her nose, we're really not getting along. in the worst way. so i'm leaving next year. started saving up for that, planned (for once) and everything.

who's still got two thumbs and no self esteem? this girl, right here.

actually, not too long after i vanished (from here), i was reading all these interviews with jeff buckley, (because yes, i am maybe still obsessed with him a little bit) and i was like, "oh. hm. sounds like a bipolar. i wonderrr...." and then there was this whole weird period where i was just listening to his music and playing along on my guitar while i waited for his biography to come in the mail, and then i read it and i was like, OMG. because he was bipolar. which, you know, is like... jinkies. jeff. and so i just had to call odette, since she's bipolar and she swears i am too. naturally, she didn't care. but that didn't stop me from talking about him. ya know, until she was all like, "hey, you should come over sometime so we can.... CALL A PSYCHIATRIST AND MAKE AN APPOINTMENT FOR YOU."

yeah, really? no thanks.

although, with the way i've been lately, that's probably the best plan i've heard all summer. still, probably not gonna happen. especially since that conversation happened three weeks ago, and i said i'd call the next day. i lied. so sue me.

that was probably the only good thing that happened. finding out jeff buckley was bipolar. which isn't a good thing.

i don't know.

i've been spending so much time keeping myself away from people that i actually talk to myself while i'm walking my dog. and by myself, i mean what you'd consider imaginary friends. but since i'm the only one that knows they're there... and i spend so much time locked in my room that my sheets are amazingly filthy. they're white, so i can see the amount of dirt in 'em. i just hope there's something stronger than bleach.

soooooooo. yeah.s

i'm alright. (though i'm using that word very loosely.)

i hope you've all been doing alright.

i missed it here.

honestly.