well... what are you supposed to feel?

i don't know if this is self-fulfilling prophecy or a a by-product of a lack of self-esteem, but once again i've proven to myself that i am indeed a failure. (guess who failed the only class necessary to continue with her internship. this girl. right here.) this is great. i don't know what's worse, that my teacher actually called me on the phone or that she said she was concerned about my apathy. apparently she's been talking with my site supervisor too.

although it makes no sense in a logical manner, i feel like i deserved this somehow. (hmm.)

this is my fault either way. i saw this coming. it started months ago, with the casual your personal reactions aren't personal enough comment from my teacher. you write like an observer. i can't picture you in the group. 

whatever. the point is that i'm a failure.

this is some kind of karmic justice. i went to the psych unit three times a week for the past few months, pretending i had my shit together and giving advice to other people. and now here i am. if i was on the edge of losing my mind before, i can't even tell you where i am now. i told a few people that if i didn't graduate this year i would probably kill myself. not to be dramatic or anything but that's a real option at the moment. although if my previous attempts have proven anything, it's just more confirmation that i'm a failure.

my teacher was on the phone with me and she basically said, i've been talking with the other professors and your site supervisor, and we all kind of get the feeling you're a little too fucked up to be in this program. like, you're not emotionally ready yet. here are your options: graduate next year, get a degree in basically nothing, or force us to do a shit-ton of extra work that still won't allow you to graduate this year but may let you graduate with this degree. okay, i said. i don't think, at the moment, you should go to your site tomorrow. okay, i said. why don't we talk again tomorrow? okay, i said. and then she ended with try to sleep well tonight. okay, i thought. i will. because i can rest easy knowing that i'm a failure at life.

currently, if i were to describe how i felt, it's apathy, i suppose. since i don't feel anything at the moment. we had a new patient the other day and i had to do her initial assessment. she said it's weird, most of the time, i'm just numb. like this wall. i don't feel anything. yeah. maybe i related a little too well with the patients. maybe i just have self-destructive tendencies. (actually, take the maybe out of that. i do.) i'm a little worried-- if that's an emotion/feeling then i guess i do feel something right now-- about what the fuck i'll tell my mother. she's probably going to kick me out.

this is such a fucking terrible roller-coaster and life is the shittiest amusement park ever.

can i be sad or angry or something, though? maybe i'm not emotionally ready to do anything. except run a razor across my arms. i hate my life.



dream brother.

today is jeff buckley's birthday.

happy fucking birthday, jeff. 

yesterday i told waterbear, with no doubt in my mind, that today would be the fucking best day ever. and you know what? today was the fucking best day ever. i'll walk you through it. (chronologically.)

woke up super early and was just immediately in an awesome mood. realized it was raining, which is perfect for jeff's birthday. jammed to a bunch of my old 90s songs. (destiny's child, anyone?) left at just the right moment so i didn't have to stand at the bus stop too long. caught my train as soon as i got to the station. bought the paper at a deli, where i got a free coffee for asking the owner how he was doing. or for just being adorable. (haha, as if.) got to my internship site amazingly early and ran into the hot radiology tech guy who always says hi to me. (spoiler: he said hi to me. we even had a conversation.) made faces at a psychiatrist and social worker during the morning meeting. they made faces back. wrote a song with a rambling psych client. had the psychiatrist from earlier sing and dance for me during lunch break. (he played the tremeloes, little tony, and fucking adriano celentano. then he sang ta ra ta ta and danced. it was amazing.) i cheered up a depressed client and bonded with him. did all my work on the unit. had a moment with the social worker from earlier-- not unlike one i had with puck months ago, with the high five turning into a weird hand-holdy thing-- where he asked me why i hadn't been to a party that one of the psychiatrists had over the weekend (answer: i wasn't invited), asked me where i lived (which i again, answered), and then asked me if i wanted to come to his studio (answer: hell fucking yeah.) then i told my supervisor about a song i wrote (featuring an aforementioned dead bird). he was totally amazed. (although that could be because of the amount of energy i have today.) then i came home, singing grace by jeff buckley at the top of my lungs. and it sounded awesome. and on my bed, waiting for me, was a twenty ounce can of red bull.

today was the fucking best day ever.

nothing went wrong. (the rarity of this sentence coming from me makes today that much better.)

it's all because it was jeff's birthday. i'm gonna try to stretch this magic out to the rest of the week.

and my fucking horoscope today said eliminate negativity and stay positive and my quote for today was from jeff (obviously) and it goes be the best. no negativity. no weakness. no acquiescence to fear or disaster. no errors of ignorance. no evasion to reality. it was like the exact same thing basically. i knew from the moment i saw it that everything was going to be amazing.

cherry on top? the day's not over yet.

add the fact that i get to see puck tomorrow and you know i'm going to have fun this week. it might not be because of jeff's birthday. it might just be mania but either way it's going to be tons of fun.



i'm exploding in smiles/ my equilibrium's spinning

puck makes everything better.

saturday, i didn't quite feel up to leaving the house, even if it was for him. so he said, i have a two hour break tuesday and thursday. let's see each other then. tuesday came and he had a paper to type. thursday, thursday. i'll be free on thursday. you say that like i don't have things to do on thursday, sir. if you don't have time then, we can pick another day. so i danced on pins and needles at internship on wednesday, a confused mixture of anxiety and despair. thursday came. the time clicked by, painfully slow. three o'clock came and left. where are you? i thought you had things to do. why? does "you say that like i don't have things to do on thursday" ring any bells? stop splitting hairs and come here.

and then there he was.

i was having a conversation with an old friend (about subway's gag-inducing stench) while i waited for him. when i looked up, there he was. my friend gauged the situation and politely made his exit. can i get my hug now? come get it. no, you come here. he smiled, rolled his eyes, gave me a hug. the first thing i noticed that i guess i really couldn't help is that he's leaner. he's gotten smaller. not too much but just enough to kind of boost his attractiveness a lot. i remember asking myself a few months ago, can this guy get any hotter? apparently the answer was yes. i died a little on the inside. before, when he was the hottest guy i knew, he was beyond reach. even in my wildest dreams, there was no way i could see... well, us. and now he's still the hottest guy i know but he's inexplicably become hotter.

this grad student decided at that moment, to eat her lunch under the staircase where we were sitting. every once in a while, she would shift her legs. bare, long, leggy. flip her hair. whatever. the point is she was really pretty. i lost my voice. we sat in awkward silence for a while. (sorry, ashley. i tried.) he tried to amuse me by telling me stories about his day. and then i had to go to class. i had a huge internal struggle. resisted the urge to sing should i stay or should i go. i joked, drily, can i have another hug? since i probably won't see you for another six months. why would you say that? he asked, before giving me a hug. the weird thing is that all of this made me feel horrible about myself. until later, when i asked, nervously, six months is... when? i would imagine tuesday or thursday is about six months. 

my tail wagged.

the thing about puck is that he seems to realize that i'm quite unstable. or maybe just that i have no self-esteem. but he's still pretty considerate about it. and still doesn't mind hanging out with me. i wish i wasn't such a chicken, though. 

either way, he put me in such a good mood that i went out on friday and got amazingly drunk with a guy who likes me whose friend also likes me. (because this is how i deal with good and bad moments in life. i intentionally make mistakes. do things i probably shouldn't because they're fun.) he left for a while and i was alone with a giant bottle of gin. i drank myself silly. called people to let them know how much i loved them. all was right with the world. the guy returned to find me, completely wasted and singing along to a mos def cd. he tried to get some, so to speak. i protested, babbled about how much i loved puck, and told him only puck would be able to do anything of the sort with me. eventually, i realized this guy was not concerned with my love life or the fact that i was not into doing anything with him. called another friend, who also likes me, and left. where i again began babbling about puck until i passed out. saturday, went to church, where i spent the entire day playing the piano and dreaming about puck. which brings us to today, where i am doing my homework so that when tuesday comes, i enough have free time for him.

life is better just knowing he's in existence, i suppose. it's not like he really did anything besides hug me. (although, to be honest, holding him is kind of a big deal.) he's like summer vacation, christmastime, and valentine's day all wrapped up in the fluffiest snow. i tell strangers about him. i tell people about him while i'm making out with them. i find excuses to bring him up in conversation. he's a six ounce bag of skittles with a bottle of vodka. all of that being said, i realize that if i do what i did six months ago (which was essentially nothing), then i'll stay here forever. 

i need to do something. i'll figure it out. i've got no choice, really. but at this moment in time, i don't mind where i am.



my mind is a carnival; the carny is my brain.

i'm really starting to realize what a bizarre childhood i had. the longer i spend talking to the people on the psych unit, the more i realize that it was totally abnormal. the fact that i thought it was normal, at three years old, to go to work with my dad everyday and basically just inhale chemicals until it was time to go home. (this is one of the reasons i was happy to start high school. i got to smell formaldehyde in bio lab.) or the austerity i handled life with. people were amused because i was saying things like, i can't smile right now, life is serious business. and i meant it. but i've been having flashbacks of this video i used to watch religiously, along with sesame street and barney. i decided to look it up, slowly piecing the fragmented shards of my memory together. i finally fucking remember it.

it was a mr. know it owl video. he's actually a brilliant but completely under-appreciated bird with this firefly named phineas. i loved it when i was a kid. i thought it was the best experience i could have within a half-hour. the weird thing is that i don't actually remember what he was teaching. i can only remember a scene from the video where these children are playing and they find a dead bird. they stand around for a bit, get a rock and write something on it, and then they bury it. there's a weird sort of emotional undercurrent at this point in the video but they get over it. suddenly they're playing again. and then i think it's back to mr. know it owl. i'm not really sure how this fit into this video or why it was there or why someone thought oh hey, this would be a good thing to insert right about now, some kids burying a dead bird. it was actually a really touching scene but it totally messed me up.

i think about a month or two after i first watched it, i was in the backseat while my dad was driving down the street. pigeons are always hanging out in the road. it was nothing new. i had always seen them. they sat there. cars came. they flew away. the cars passed. they came back. but for some reason, while coming home from school one day, i was suddenly gripped with the fear that maybe one of the birds couldn't fly away. then what? would i have to get out of the car and bury it? would i need to find a stone and chalk to write here lies a bird that is dead like the children did in the video? would my father even stop so i could bury it or would its corpse lie in the street indefinitely? so i yelled stop at the top of my lungs, my dad steps on the brakes because he thinks something terrible is going on, and then i tell him he can't run over the bird. 

he was so pissed. i can't even explain. (we could have gotten into an accident, the way he stopped the car. so it's understandable.)

i don't know why i was watching this. the scene is actually from the book the dead bird by margaret wise brown. maybe it's the reason i had an odd preoccupation with cemeteries, death, and corpses while i was growing up. or maybe all the cemeteries, death, and corpses i encountered were the reason i understood the video so well. or maybe i was simply touched by the children's care for the dead bird. i don't know. 

this is just a snippet of the kind of thing that goes through my head. i could sit and process this for hours before coming to a conclusion that i accept. and that in itself is definitely not normal. it's not just my childhood that was bizarre, it's my entire life thus far. but i can only say childhood because i'm not old enough to reference anything more than that. don't even get me started on beat the clock with guy smiley and cookie monster.

all of this being said, i need to find this VHS and watch it. weird or not, it's a great scene.



i find myself searching for old selves.

as is quickly becoming a yearly routine, i took another peek inside my diary from when i was around six to eight years old. you know, sometimes you read a book and one part stands out but the next time you read it, something else pops out at you. that happened to me. i have so much respect for my younger self and so little respect for myself that i wonder if we're even the same person anymore. i also have much more compassion for her than i do for myself right now. i've said this before but all the things that-- i? she? we?-- wrote while leaping through the door of assumption turned out to be true. maybe the saddest thing is that if i sit and think long enough i can see the first traces of... well, everything.

november thirteenth, nineteen ninety nine
mom said i'm her baby. i do not belive (sp) her. i used to behave.
used to as in... wasn't at the time? what was i doing that made me say that? and worse, what the hell was my mother doing that made me say that? i was only six, for fuck's sake.

august eighth, two thousand 
i am having a hard time.
that's actually the entirety of that entry. almost as if i couldn't even express why or what it was that was troubling me. there's nothing written before this for about five months. i think i know why i said this, so i don't think it was sadness so much as frustration that made me write this. who knows.

i don't know why i idealize my younger self so much. maybe it's because my parents used to drop lines like, you never behaved/acted/spoke like this when you were a child, in a way that clearly said those were the days. or maybe it's because she had more self-confidence than i do. i-- or, to be mentally accurate, she-- wrote things like, today i'm going to win the science fair and then did it. i didn't think anything was impossible. and the cool thing is that i did everything i could to prove that was true. i didn't think there were things i couldn't do. when you're young, adults say you can do anything you put your mind to. then as you get older, they begin to tell you to be realistic as if believing in yourself was the most absurd thing they ever heard. then they plant ideas in your head of what you should do, as if you weren't capable of dreaming on your own. or maybe that's just me.

the past is a grotesque animal.

i've got something that's kind of but not really a date with puck tomorrow. not sure how i managed to swing that one. i should channel a bit of that self-confidence that i had as a child. i remember him saying once, after i joked about him being in love with himself, that you won't be able to love anyone if you don't love yourself first. i don't believe that, really. probably because of the immense amount of self-loathing i deal with on a regular basis. but then, this level of self-loathing only comes with an equal amount of self-obsession. so maybe in some twisted way, i love myself. or at least, i love myself enough to hate the current version of myself. i don't know.

i can't figure this out right now. 



when you feel so mad that you wanna roar.

(before i start this long and emotionally charged post, let me just say that puck is still a blip on the proverbial radar. and the only bright spot of this crappy day. that being said, you may proceed.)

yesterday morning, my supervisor, the other intern and i were all sitting around. i thought we were all having a conversation. i was wrong. it's either that or my supervisor was being an ass. every time i said something, he would interrupt or just look and me and continue as if i hadn't said a word. that happened like, five times. so you know what i did? i stopped talking and i focused on the crossword. then they started talking about who was doing what, which groups the other intern and i should do together. then he asked her if she wanted to work with an individual. she happened to choose the same person i wanted to work with. the difference is that i put this in a log that i wrote last week. i wrote something like i think this person is really interesting and i'd love to work with her individually. and he wrote some comment on it like, let's see if we can set that up. so obviously, when she said that, i assumed he'd say, well actually, she's been chosen already. but no. he bitched out. he looked at me and said you two can fight over her.

um, do your fucking job, sir. that's not even funny.

so i said she could do it. one, because i didn't give one fifth of a half eaten shit. and two, because the fact that he had asked only her which person she'd like to work with individually meant that he didn't really give a fuck about my choice anyway. and then i kept doing the crossword. and he was saying some shit that i don't give a fuck about and he looks at me again and says, don't detach or some shit like that.

don't detach? maybe when you stop being a dick i'll start listening to you again.

and then later, i get a text from my newlywed companion (from over the summer) saying that the stupid girl-- you know, the one i apparently offended while i was drunk (also from over the summer)-- wanted her to ask me if i could take care of her cat (or find someone else to) because she's leaving the country in a few days. my heart goes out to this cat. it's old and it's stupid. not unlike its owner. first of all, i live with my mother-- or to be painfully technical about it, in my mother's house-- as do most of my friends, so there was no way i was going to say it was cool with me. second, that bitch has my number. just ask me directly. if i don't like you, it's not like my response is going to be any different if you ask someone else to ask me. you're still the person on the other end. third, both of them haven't spoken to me since the wedding. (not unlike the way it had been before the wedding.) so forgive me for not giving a fuck but her cat can go to hell for all i care.

standing in the closet during lunch break, i read this text like three times before laughing outrageously. i guess i just enjoy life more when it's either completely good or completely bad. or in this case, completely stupid. naturally, i was polite about the whole thing and explained the situation. don't say thanks for trying or even okay or anything, guys. because that would make me think that you had some sort of decency, which we all know is bullshit.

at least i'm still somewhat amused. if i ever get to the point where i'm totally upset, i'm probably going to yell at my supervisor. excuse me sir. please stop spraying your cock flavored spit all over my face. and kindly go fuck yourself. he's so lucky he's my supervisor. fucking politics. i hate it.

this is why i'm an anarchist.



"what do you really hate about your life the most?" "myself, i think. probably."

my supervisor had to do this midterm evaluation of me. he also had to observe me with some of the patients. i felt like a complete fuck up the entire time. just like i've felt for the entirety of this internship. even though i love being there and i really want to work in psych when i'm certified and licensed, i feel like an idiot right now.

anyway, i asked him to let me see both of the evaluations. i have copies of the same papers, but the way i graded myself was completely different from the way he graded me. places where i gave myself 2's or 3's, he gave me 4's and 5's. you'd think that would make me happy, right? wrong. i was just disappointed and a bit upset with him. i'm the first undergrad intern he's ever taken, which apparently for him was a huge deal. but because of that, i feel like he's holding me to some lowered expectations of what an undergrad is capable of, instead of gauging me at my own level and taking from there. it's only been two months, i know. but still. he said that numbers are basically shit and the evaluation has no real value. everything we need to discuss, he brings up. this is true. but still.

i know i'm holding myself to higher standards and judging myself on stricter terms than he (or anyone else) ever will. that much is clear. but that makes me feel like maybe he should raise his expectations a bit. he always says things like, you're doing a lot better than i expected. and i see you're working on the things we talked about, that's great. and i feel fairly patronized. i know that's not what he intends but for fuck's sake. this has been a recurring theme in supervision. not that i feel patronized, but that i've got a high set of standards i hold myself to and measuring up to his standards really doesn't mean anything to me. let's just be completely honest here-- i probably won't ever do things as perfectly as i outline them in my head. basically, he said yesterday, patting me on the back, it's a self-esteem thing. you've really got to start having a bit of confidence in yourself. easier said than done, sir.

for the past two months, he's been telling me to get therapy (psychoanalytic not cognitive behavioral). it'll help, he says. you'll grow exponentially, he says. if it doesn't work then we'll try something else, he says. at first i used my regular list of excuses. he saw through all of those. then i said i would do it but first i had to find time in my schedule. now i've got the number of the therapist but i haven't called her. i probably won't until friday, and maybe not even then. there's too many factors involved. too many possible outcomes. too many risks.

i like to think i know myself fairly well and i already despise who i am. confronting my personal issues in therapy... just doesn't seem like a good idea to me. my supervisor said it's like getting a massage. it helps you out and loosens you up. i should have told him i'm not into massages either.



in which i am temporarily crushed by the jaws of fate.

in the last two months (or, i should say, the first two months of the school year), a lot of shit has happened. from attempting to defend people against sketchy school administrations to losing contact with friends who are being sent to inpatient facilities, it's been weird and unpleasant. the universe is holding me by the scruff of my neck, the mother cat with the rebellious kitten, and shaking me back and forth violently. learn your place, it's probably saying. as all good kittens know, it's better to go limp and allow yourself to be fucked around with. unless you want to end up with a broken neck.

oddly enough, the place i used to get a break from everything was my internship site. the hospital's psych unit is full of strange people who have a better understanding of life than the people i'm around at school. naturally. one of the patients told me, while drawing a pumpkin on construction paper, you're a really weird person. so i smiled and said thank you. he said, you know that's a compliment, right? and i said, well, naturally. what else could it be? of course, there are still assholes at the hospital (i.e., most of the staff). call me an idealistic little brat but i think laughing at patients is only okay if they do something funny.

at any rate, the whole internship experience is being overshadowed by this issue called the other intern. apparently, she wants us to be conjoined twins. she does all this stuff like coming to find me when she hasn't seen me for a few minutes, wanting to eat together all the time, talking, singing, breathing all the fucking time-- it's a lot of extra noise inside my skull that i don't need. plus, i'm pretty sure my supervisor likes her more. he's gotten into the habit of stomping on my hopes and dreams, using the title of supervisor to make it seem as if it's all for my own good. i still love him though, because he loves fiona almost as much as i do. the other intern always says we're obsessed and turns her nose up.

i'm pretty sure i'm behind on homework in every fucking class. so that's nice. in spite of the fact that i only sleep for maybe four hours every night, i find myself incapable of doing it. reading research articles that are unrelated to any classes? i can do that. writing songs about how the staff at my school is full of shit? easy peasy. learning how to play entire albums on the piano? no problem. the difference between all of these and my homework, i guess, is that i don't want to do it. but now i have to or i'm screwed.

in the time it took me to type all of this, i could've done some of it. i probably should...

still, even after typing all of this out, i can't put my finger on what it is that's draining me so much. not that it would make a difference even if i did know, most of these problems would still be there. and i didn't even mention my budding alcoholism. maybe it's my hypocritical nature that's draining me. i tell the people at the psych unit that it's a horrible idea to use alcohol to cope with the problems of life one day, and bring vodka/apple juice to my classes the next day. so yeah, maybe it's me.

i am my biggest problem, after all.



ready. (or not.)

my final year of college begins this week. i thought i was ready for it until an old neighbor came to visit me on saturday afternoon.

my friendship with her is, as it is with most of my associates from my childhood, sketchy at best. we became friends because there was no one else around; we stayed friends because we were neighbors. once high school started for me, the first reason was invalid. once she moved, the second reason also fell to shit. so i was kind of surprised when she came by. (truth be told, i didn't even realize she had moved until about six or seven months after the fact, when i noticed her mother's car wasn't there.)

we stood in front of my house, awkwardly, as she rambled on about her life. i guess she thought i deserved to know. the space between us was obvious. the laughter was forced and painful. whenever one of us attempted to shorten the distance (probably unconsciously), the other would shift away. i'm ashamed to admit my eyes were glazing over while she spoke but honestly i didn't care. she told me about her dancing career, what she wanted to do in the future, and what she was currently doing. her new neighborhood, her new neighbors, how she felt about moving. we fell into our old routine; she rambled, i pretended to be interested.

somehow we ended up moving from the front of my house to the front of her old house, where i ended up in another semi-awkward conversation. her mother joined in. we talked, and talked, and talked until the streetlights came on, then her mother said they really had to go. but we should stay in touch. we exchanged numbers. they left, i came home.

i don't doubt the sincerity of our friendship then or now. we did try, in our own twisted way. but it made me think about how much i really value the majority of my college acquaintances. i'm no stranger to losing friends. i'm used to having "friends" who only want me around when it's convenient for them. i'm even familiar with people who pretend to be friends for their own personal gain or enjoyment. but thinking about the people i know from college, i figure i won't miss most of them. that fact alone makes me really glad i'll be too busy this year to see a lot of people. it also makes me feel a bit like a jerk because i'm sure a few of the people i'm thinking of consider me a close friend. (it's a side effect of subjectivity.)


aside from the whole lack of a desire for the social aspect of college, i'm totally hyped to have papers to type, homework, a place to practice in peace, and a library to research and read in. my brain was starting to get bored. can't wait to get these neurons firing again.



i guess the cat's out of the bag.

turns out i can be a bitch when i'm jealous.

i can admit it here, can't i? jealousy. with just a hint of rage. my friend, who i've known for nine years, got married this past weekend. i was one of her bridesmaids. a few weeks before the wedding, she started taunting me (like a child in junior high school) about how i've had all these crushes, and she meets one guy and now they're getting married, but i'm still single. yeah. thanks, buddy. i won't even bother talking about self-esteem, because you know how that is.

anyway, so one of her other bridesmaids and i slept over at her house leading up to the wedding. this other bridesmaid is an idiotic girl we've known since high school, who became a bridesmaid simply because "she was really excited about the wedding". anyway, i was hoping to be the thinnest bridesmaid, but she beat me to it (the bitch). let's not get into too much detail but i think you're getting the general picture.

so suppressed jealousy plus black out inducing levels of alcohol equals a good time.

fortunately, i didn't say anything to the bride, because i was really happy for her. (thank fuck.) as for the girl i'd only been pretending to like, it seems i really gave her a piece of my mind. (which is fortunate for her, because now she can say she has one.) the only thing i remember clearly is sitting on the lap of one of the groomsmen and making out with him. and i can just barely remember that. everything else is missing from my memory. which is good. (well, i lost my panties somewhere during that whole memory lapse... so that might be bad. but whatever.) came to in a hallway, irritated as hell and barefoot. how i got to the hotel is still a mystery, as are the hours between 11 and 2. but whatever. no one seemed concerned, so it's cool. apparently the groom got drunk too, which kinda makes sense, since we both had the same amount of drinks/shots. the lovely bride abandoned both of us to eat pizza with her friends from college.

it's gonna be a beautiful marriage, i can see that already.

i should be a little concerned with my love for blackouts, but in reality, i'm pretty happy with the way things turned out. i don't have to pretend i like that girl, i don't have any horrible memories that will haunt me (except for maybe the memory of  realizing my panties were missing), and i got to make out with a decently attractive guy from london. if i only blackout once this year, i'm glad it was at a wedding reception.

i stopped drinking for exactly 10 months, only to start drinking again on june ninth (it all started with a pint...). plus, as i do with everything else i try to quit, when i started again, i tried to make up for lost time by drinking more. and i've still got one whole month left before school starts and i stop drinking again.

this is shaping up to be the best summer ever. i can't wait.



pop goes the weasel.

today was great.

i saw puck, which is probably why today was great. we had awkward small talk. it wasn't awkward for him, only for me i think. i beat around the bush a lot. and then he said he wanted to go home to get lunch because he hadn't had breakfast. then i opened my arms, and i got this... kind of okay hug. naturally, after that, i asked, so when do i get my special hug? you got it yesterday, he replied, slightly confused. i think you should give me a better hug for that A-, sir. the last two hugs were shit. that's because you weren't really into it. you know what? he was right. how wonderfully observant of you, is what i wanted to say. but i had nothing to say to that. so i said nothing. i know this is going to sound really pathetic, but i've felt so massive lately. so i can't give him the same hugs i gave him before i felt as massive as i do right now. before, i didn't mind pressing myself into his arms and letting him pull me in close. but now it's like, GAH. i don't want him to think i'm fat. or that is, i don't want him to realize how big i am. he began walking to his car. just after he vanished from my view, i ran in his direction. yelled. puck! (or whatever his real name is.) i know what i want! i want to play hide and seek! okay, he grinned mischievous as hell. you go hide, and i'll give you a five minute head start. ready? five... four... while he's counting down, he's opening his car door and putting his bag inside. i stomp angrily. like a demented five year old. you're gonna get in your car and drive off! c'mon, i really wanna play. he just smiles. but look, i'm already in my car. not all of you, i say, pointing at his foot, still on the ground. he puts both feet in. tomorrow. basement. ten-forty. i'm not gonna be there, i've got homework to do. ten forty. seriously!  ten forty. basement. wednesday, april thirtieth, two thousand fourteen. be there. i growl, good bye, puck.

and then i see crush # 3, who we'll just call shaggy. and i make sure puck sees me walking away while talking to shaggy. but once i'm back inside the school building, i abandon shaggy to go help my friend, tabby with her paper. apparently i'm good at editing papers. (shocking, isn't it? especially considering the fact that i can't even start my sentences with capital letters.) she doesn't finish, so we both go to class and agree to meet up again later.

later, i come to where we're supposed to meet up and i see crush # 4, the super tall one. let's call him tesla, because he's absolutely brilliant. (and also, tesla was wickedly attractive.) i saw him around all day today, actually. the first time i saw him today, he was looking right over my head as i said, hey! hey! and then he finally looked down and saw me. fortunately, this time, when i said hi, he saw me, smiled and said hi. i've seen you all day today. what's up with that? don't you have a home to get to? he laughed. where ya headed? said he was going to get lunch. asked what i was up to. just going to help a friend with a paper. and doing a crossword puzzle. he smiled. then this girl i know came over and they said hi to each other, and she said hi to me. and he was like, "you two know each other?" apparently, i know everyone. and then tabby shows up, and stands near us. the girl looks at tabby's  nails and goes, "oh my gosh, your nails are amazing!" and they start talking about how they need to do their nails and blahblahblah. and while they're talking, i look at my nails and i show them to tesla. and then he looks at his nails and he shows them to me, and we laugh together, because they're unpolished. it was nice. i took his commonplace book at one point, and said, may i? he said go ahead. i figure most girls would do something like write their name and number. but i just wrote an extra item on his to do list. (it said, remember to smile! because he's always studying and he tends to grimace on occasion.) then he leaves. the girl leaves. tabby and i go to work on her paper.

icing on the proverbial cake? after yesterday's fiasco, i wasn't looking forward to seeing that stupid girl or her guy today. so of course, i see in the study area, that stupid girl. and she's getting help with something from shaggy. i give tabby a brief rundown of what happened yesterday. and she gets super protective of me. she turns to shaggy, and stupid girl-- she mistakenly thought he was the idiot from yesterday, but he wasn't-- and she says, in this absolutely no-nonsense voice, "HEY. we don't want any shit, okay? we're here to work. so don't start any shit." shaggy, who's totally confused and looks really adorable (and slightly scared), tries to ask what's going on. she doesn't even let him talk. she goes, "HEY. no shit. we're here to work." and then it's really quiet and awkward while i tell her that shaggy is innocent. she apologizes to him. but stupid girl? of course not. so she leaves when she's done, and she doesn't give us any shit.

thinking about it still makes me smile.

today was strange and beautiful.



c'mon, mood, shift. shift back to good again.

last night, i went to sleep. more accurately, i fell asleep. i had no intention of doing so. it simply happened. i woke up two and a half hours later, at approximately... one in the morning. and i've been up ever since. i'm not sure why i slept so little or why i'm not tired, but nothing else today has made sense, so this is really the least of my worries.

yesterday, i told puck he owes me for helping him with his paper. he said he agreed, one hundred percent. (if you didn't know, it's one of my favorite percentages.) but then he said it depended on the grade he got on his paper. 

what if you get an A? i've learned not to expect that. okay, what if you get a B? that's an okay grade, probably the best i would've gotten in his class anyway. so if you get a B or above, what do i win? what's a good prize? [let me just pause here to say that esmeralda said i should've said "a kiss" or something equally... whatever the appropriate adjective is for a line like that.] i don't know, but a hug is a good start. and if you get a C or lower, then i owe you one.

so naturally, today, i was eager to see what grade we got. (yes, we because i wrote about three sentences in that paper.) before i saw him, unfortunately, i ran into my friend's "boyfriend". [please note: i didn't know they were even dating officially.]

brief background: my friend (or whatever she is to me now) likes this guy (her supposed "boyfriend"). until today, the story she's been telling me is that they aren't in a relationship, but they have lots of crazy sex together and hang out every once in a while. ("six hours," she once whispered to me, eyes lit. "eww," was my response.) apparently, neither of them wanted to be in a relationship, and he wasn't her boyfriend, and she wasn't his girlfriend, and dammit, they were still going to have sex and just enjoy whatever the fuck happened. i repeatedly told her, that guy offends me. i can't stand him. he pisses me off. he reminds me of my mother. but if you like him, i'll tolerate him for you. he's a total dickwad. a few weeks ago, she and i were talking about his feelings for her, and she told me, "why don't you ask him? but don't say i said to." these were her words. texts are irrefutable evidence. i asked him. he responded as all dickwads do-- in highly irritating sentences. so i ended our convo. since then, i've only spoken to him to say, hello or whatever else seems to be polite at the moment. yesterday, when i was talking to her, she referred to him as "not really her boyfriend" so everything following this is truly confusing. 

just try to bear with me

i made the mistake of being polite when i saw this dude today. i said hi. then this guy starts asking me if i'm mad at him, do i hate him, sometimes i say hi, but i don't talk to him. i say, i'm just being polite. don't read too much into it. then he goes off into this spiel about how he knows i've been saying horrible things about him behind his back, and how he'd really appreciate it if i stopped talking to his "girlfriend" (the first time i heard him actually say this) about him. i said, what did i say exactly? he said i called him weird. (for fuck's sake, i call everything weird.) i said, where's your proof? he said she showed him a text i sent her on saturday, while they were hanging out. i said, oh? and he said, well no, not really, he just happened to see it. and then later, after some severe interrogation, he returned to his original story, which was that she showed it to him. but aside from that, he said, i was saying a lot about him to her. this is where i kind of lost it, and literally called him every horrible name i could fit in to an otherwise clean conversation. here's a sample:

i think, being myself, i reserve the right to call you whatever the fuck i want to call you, whenever the fuck i want to, to whoever the fuck i want to talk to. so if i want to call you an asshat, i'll call you a fucking asshat. if i want to call you a motherless cuntlapping cocksucker, i'll call you a motherless cuntlapping cocksucker. i'm entitled to my own opinion, you dumb shit. 

something like that. (forgive my language.) then he started asking me more shit. then i saw puck. can you say emotional confusion? irritation, because of this guy. but a sort of nervous happiness because of the beautiful boy walking down the hall. fortunately, this assface i'm talking to says, oh there goes my girlfriend, you should go ask her whatever blahblahblah. 

so i turn to puck as he's passing and i ask him what we (yes, it's still we) got on the paper. he looks at the paper and this really slow, adorable smile crosses his face. his eyebrows rise, his eyes light up. he looks at me. A-. of course i'm totally excited because this means i get... whatever my prize turns out to be. i can't wait until you help me with all my other papers, he says. i laugh. yeah right. then i see my friend and, typical me, i tell him i'll see him later and give him a quick hug before i confront this chick. 

biggest mistake i made all day. besides saying hi to dickface.

i'm talking to her, asking her why she'd repeatedly tell her so called "boyfriend" (which i seriously didn't know until wayy after this conversation was over) that i didn't like him. she said she never did that. and then she changed her tune. "there was only that one text..." i'm in the middle of telling her that he said she always tells him, when he calls her on the phone. tells her where he is. i walk with her. i figure we should all stand around and get it all out there. clear the air so to speak. she has something else in mind. "can you give us some time alone?" okay, i say. i wait five, ten, fifteen minutes. they talk in the middle of the parking lot. somewhere during the conversation, they just hug. i can't see much, because my glasses are broken, but i can see that they're definitely hugging. and they intend to hug for a while. so i leave. i just walk away.

later, she sends me angry texts. "i hope you're happy now. i'm a total mess. we broke up. it's all your fault." and so on. i explain to her (in a shockingly logical manner) that even if i don't like him, that has nothing to do with their relationship. (because i'd been saying that for weeks anyway.) of course, she continues to hound me with a barrage of texts. (about six hours worth, but who's counting?) finally, i just tell her i'm impressed/disgusted by the fact that she's so determined to blame me. 

i'm still not entirely sure how it's my fault. (it doesn't seem like it, from my point of view.)

also, when i saw puck again later, like i told him i would, i was too busy being agitated over the accusations to actually get my hug and/or engage in one of our delicious conversations. one of my friends is trying to calm me down, and i don't think puck should see me in this state. so i don't say anything to him. he lingers, a slight distance away, talking to a companion of his while i talk to mine. then as he's leaving, i see a person walking with him for a few seconds. (probably like thirty seconds.) my friend, who sucks at calming me down, turns and says, "is that the guy you like? who's that girl with him?" this is basically when i lost my mind.

oh, and i still don't have new glasses.

i'm not even like, sad or something, just irritated. like, who was that girl? why is my friend so stupid? when did this stupid girl and boy start going out officially? last night? i don't understand any of this. maybe it's the sleep deprivation talking, but if he/she says anything to me tomorrow, i'm very likely to punch him/her in the face. and i don't want to see puck. well, i do , but i can't. i need to just tell him we should get lunch, and then get lunch with him. i suppose. i don't know.

the only one i really care about is puck. out of all of this messy stuff. i just want to get my special hug, for the A-. and the rest of my prize. i earned it fair and square. so i deserve it. and i'll be damned if i let this other bullshit get in the way again.

i'm enough of an obstacle in this whole puck/missinsanity thing.  i don't need more poop on my sidewalk.



damn. damn. damn.

i didn't plan ahead. i should have had a list of things to do in case of emergency.

i could have really used one yesterday, like what to do in case your mother spends the entire day chiseling away at your self-image and self-esteem or what to do in case people touch you when you didn't give them permission to. so naturally, since emotional roller-coasters tend to make me as tired as staying awake for over 24 hours does, i went to sleep. (well, that's the end of that. for now.)

lousy mitochondria and their damn ATP.

on a brighter note, i turned into a real bitch because i hadn't slept. and by bitch, i mean i stopped filtering (the things i wanted to say, not the crap that just flies out on occasion) and really "let people have it". i've learned that people don't like it when you don't listen to them. and they especially don't like it when you talk to them the way they talk to you-- like they're idiots. oh well.

i've got so much work to do today, i'm almost glad i got some sleep.

my glasses broke last week. and then my mother got sick, so i told her let's not go get my new glasses just yet. as everyone knows, a car is just a glorified petri dish if you're stuck inside one with a sick person for any amount of time. it's a bad idea. then she got better. but today (the only day this week that i have available for going anywhere to get new specs) she's driving to a whole other state for some baby shower or whatever. long story short, being without glasses this long is really giving me a massive headache. which also really wore me down.

i still hate sleep though.




i've decided.

i hate sleep. i reject it. (i've always hated sleep, but i still accepted it more or less. not anymore.)

when i sleep, i miss out on the opportunity to do other things. (i'm not sure what those things are at the moment, but if i was asleep, i sure as hell wouldn't be able to figure it out.) also, the longer i stay awake, the more puck and i can talk. and i can clean my room. and i can do all of the assignments i've got to do. and other things.

the trick to not falling asleep isn't caffeine. at least for me. that doesn't work. the crash is inevitable.

it's all about posture.

if i stay upright, my eyes will stay open. i tested this theory. so far it's working.

and the longer i stay awake, the more i can study for finals and whatnot.

no reclining, no lounging, so hunching, no slouching. and no laying, for sure. just doing. an endless procession of verbs.

the end of the school year (also known as finals season) is probably not the best time to test the limits of my mind. or maybe it's the best time. we'll see how long i stay awake. my goal is: the entire weekend. possibly even monday afternoon. which is a little over 72 hours. it's almost been 24 hours so far.

wouldn't it be funny if i stayed awake to study for finals--which aren't even this upcoming week, but the week after, i believe-- and i overslept and missed all of them?

i said funny but i meant typical.

i know it's probably going to turn out to be horrible idea. and i if i do stay awake that long, then hopefully i don't snap in front of puck  because he'll be absolutely terrified. as well he should be. but whatever. i like this plan.



super perfundo on the early eve of your day.

eighty minutes. standing outside, shooting the breeze after school.

i got his number so i could talk to him during class. you owe me a hug because i didn't get one yesterday. and one for today, i said. he simply replied, eh. i assumed that meant i wasn't getting my hug. i wasn't going to bring it up. then i saw him walking to his car (as people do when they're leaving places). so i meow-ed behind him. woof-ed. he turned a corner, leaned against the wall. waited for me.

hey. were you going to jump out and scare me? 

nope. don't i owe you two hugs?

i guess so. but i mean... one should be enough.

well, let's see. so he pulled me in for a hug, arms completely circling me. was one good enough? i stood staring, heart racing, serious as hell, before grinning and stealing my second hug. then he began circling me as he paced. then we simply leaned against the wall, soaking in sunlight. talking, talking, talking. smiling. laughing. he told me things about himself. (i'm actually a really shitty swimmer, he laughed.) i told him thingss about myself. (i love camping. i'm all over it, i grinned.) we discussed anatomy. (the heart is located here, i told him, pressing my palm against his chest.) we talked about temperature. (you look pretty hot right now, he commented, referring to the fact that i was wearing all black and a fuzzy hat while standing in the sun. thank you, was my obvious response.) we talked about his backpack. (it's eight years old.) we talked about his hair. (there's a trick to fixing it, so it doesn't fall in my eyes, he told me, as i ran my fingers through it repeatedly.) we talked about people who don't ask how you're doing after you ask them. (it's like, hey. how are you? you're doing good? great. so don't ask how i'm doing, you dick.) we talked about drinks. (i love apple juice, he said as he smiled.) we talked about his facial expressions. (sometimes i only communicate with my mother using my face. so she'll talk about something and then i'll raise my eyebrows, then she'll explain whatever it is. meanwhile, i have no fucking clue what she's talking about.) he told me little inside jokes that i could pick up on during any conversation involving him. i told him about people i couldn't stand to be around. he told me about the few people he could stand to be around. (did you see my friend? he kinda looks like cristiano ronaldo. he's pretty cool.) we used silly phrases. (that's the way the cookie crumbles. and the mop flops. and the tootsie rolls.)

turns out we have a lot to talk about. we stood there so long that my mother, who drove to my college to pick me up, left because i took too long. i honestly didn't even notice. finally, i really had to go do things. and he had to go because he was hungry and thirsty. in spite of the fact that i was enjoying staring into his eyes and hearing him tell me i smelled good, i know better than to ruin a good moment with excess.

what are you doing tomorrow?

nothing really. what about you?

well, actually, i'm going to be busy for most of the day.


but what are you doing tomorrow evening?

nothing planned at the moment.

cool. maybe we can do something then. just let me know.

yeah. maybe you can help me with my paper. 

maybe not. what's in it for me?

we can eat celery sticks. and carrots. no milk.

cool. then we hugged. he tightened his grip for a few seconds before letting go and walking (at the same speed he always walks) to his car. maybe we won't hang out tomorrow evening. and that's okay. maybe we will. that's better. either way, i'll probably still be really confused about why he thinks i'm worth any of his time.

but hey, i'm not complaining.



running out of excuses.

puck. he's as unpredictable as i am but in less insane ways. in cuter ways. in better ways. i like it.

yesterday, i stood in a hallway. loitering. chatting with my friend's boyfriend and yoshi. we were laughing about violins. the world's tiniest violin. mr. krabs. really, we were rambling. but we had nothing better to do. and then there he was. puck. i love/hate the way my brain lights up when i see him. sometimes i'm afraid he'll notice. other times i hope he does. either way, there he was, walking down the hall with that same mischievous facial expression. without saying a word, as he got closer, his hand rose. for a high five, i assumed. so i raised my hand too. (like i'd miss out on an opportunity to make contact with him.)

i'm still not sure when the high five stopped being a high five. or when he laced his fingers through mine. but it did. and he did. i tried to stall him, so he wouldn't go to class just yet. i didn't have a class at that moment. but he said he had to. i bet my teacher's in there, he said over his shoulder as he opened the door to his classroom. his teacher was there. well, well. whaddya know. then he closed the door behind him. 

again, later, i was standing in the hall, talking to my friend. puck walked into me, shouldering me gently as he passed. i ended the conversation, sidled up to him and asked him why he walks at the same speed all the time. (please note: he always walks at the same speed.) we were talking, talking, talking. laughing at certain points. smiling, non-stop. he went to use the bathroom before class. i went to hang out with people.

then i saw him again after school. i admired his facial features. as well as the rest of him. the sun shined in his eyes. clear, faded green. squinting, i said i wanted to play with his hair. he let me. he didn't even mind when i kept fixing it each time the wind messed it up. (which means next time i see him, i'm gonna be all over that.) he lingered. ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes. i just stared at him at certain points, puzzled but exhilarated. we made small talk. then waterbear popped up. and she managed to make the conversation significantly less awkward. (hooray!) and then he went home because he had to type a paper. 

my friends are all happily frustrated with me. they say i'm acting out of character. i can talk to anyone without fumbling for words. i can get anyone's number, often without trying. when it's someone i like, i turn into a giant chicken. they say i can't keep acting like i'm not sure if he's interested. they say he must be, if he was willing to stand around just so i could stare at him. they say he wouldn't tell me he'd see me tomorrow if he didn't plan on letting me see him tomorrow. they say if he didn't like me, he wouldn't ask me to sing to him. he wouldn't sit with me, he wouldn't let me hug him or play with his hair. i still don't know. do any of those really mean something? 

i just don't know.



playfully troublesome.

oh. my. gosh.

last week, this fucking beautiful roguishly handsome young man struck up a conversation with me. we had been waving to each other and exchanging high fives in the hallway for weeks before this moment, which i like to think of as the great conjunction. (it sounds very dramatic.) 

i saw him passing with one of his companions, so i waved and said hi. this is what we normally do; this is what i did. that's when he told his friend to go wherever and came and sat down with me and my friend. of course, my friend is amazingly oblivious to life, so she was no help. i got nervous. i told him he had a weird facial expression. he took it in good humor and somehow kept trying to keep the conversation going. then he was like, so what are you doing at twelve? and i said, nothing, why? to which he responded, do you wanna grab lunch? confused, i naturally responded with i'm vegan. (which is neither a yes or a no, for the record.) he said he didn't know what to say to that. i considered saying yes. then i saw this creepy dude who likes to come up to me and hug me, stand around awkwardly for several minutes after the hug, and then shuffle off, only to reappear a few minutes later. naturally, i had to hide. so i told this amazingly gorgeous creature to sit and wait for me while i hid in some far away corner.

when i came back he was gone. 


(but he told my friend to tell me he said bye.)

i didn't see him again for the rest of the week. (which was truly odd, all things considered.) this morning, though, i woke up and i told myself i was going to see him or someone was going to suffer. and you know what? i saw him. i gave him a hug as he was on his way to class. he decided to hang out with me since his teacher was late. we loitered in the hallway, playing a game known as conversation. i told him i figured out what the look on his face was. it's mischievous. he said that could be a bad thing. i told him perhaps, but not in his case. he asked me what i liked to do for fun. i said stuff. then i asked him what he liked to do for fun. he said stuff. i'm not making this easy for myself.

it's not that i want to make things difficult. it's just what i do. but he intrigues me and my curiosity has trapped me. if he was the only one who fascinated me, that would make my life a lot less complicated. but i seem to be flirting with everyone these days, age be damned. but out of all the others, he fascinates me the most. so that's good for him.

anyway, i'll hopefully see this boy tomorrow (let's call him puck for now) so i can get more hugs. his hugs are amazing. and so is his face. and his eyes. especially his eyes. where do all these attractive people come from? how is their existence even possible? how was i not blinded from looking directly at him for so long?

i just don't understand.




this must be what that feeling feels like. a state of exuberance. an exuberant state of being. the quality of being full of energy, excitement, and cheerfulness.

it's not because of the ants that are crawling all over my room right now, because that's not a good thing, but because of just everything. everything is wonderful. and brilliant. and amazing. i was chatting with my supervisor (through text) so comfortably. it's odd, because i can barely talk to her on the phone. in person? heck yeah, i can read her body language and respond appropriately. any other method of communication, and i'm totally confused. but when i saw i had a text from my supervisor, i was like, fuck yeah! it's nice to be accepted by real adults. and she kept the conversation going! it was exhilarating.

i know what i feel like. i was on the train and i had this thought. basically, if i was a person who was deathly allergic to almonds, and i ate chocolate, i'd be fantastically curious about hershey's milk chocolate with almonds. mainly, because the woman next to me at the time started choking on a piece of almond, coughed into a tissue, and then continued eating as if nothing had happened. i figured, if i was allergic to almonds, after seeing that, i'd want to try the damn thing anyway. i'd eat the fucking bar. or i'd try to. i'd probably end up dead by the third bite, but i'd eat the damn thing. and i figure that basically sums up my reaction to everything right now.

besides texting my supervisor, i seem to be developing a friendship with one of the outpatients, a wildly talented and highly dynamic giant of a man. he's like the big friendly giant. he might as well be. that would make me sophie, i suppose.whatever. i'm not actually sure if this is allowed, since i know we're not supposed to do that kind of thing with patients, but i guess anyone on the outside is fair game. never know until ya try, i suppose. i've also picked up talking to strangers. it's been working out well, actually. most people are so confused by my energy that they just play along. maybe. i don't know. one of my friends was standing near me for a few minutes, and then turned and said, i need to get away from you. i just can't with your energy right now. and you need to calm down. yeah. okay, thanks, i'll do that. and also, thanks for speaking up. because i really wanted your opinion.

whatever. i've been reading again. and writing music. and drinking tea. and babbling. mostly babbling. and i have a strange urge to clean my room. and it snowed out of nowhere today, and it made me so happy. i have this one teacher who always calls me bizarre, but in the most endearing way. as if she'd never met anyone like me. i really need to clean my room. and there are all these fucking ants everywhere, it's driving me nuts. but i'm really happy that i'm friends with the b.f.g. because he seems like such a wellspring of knowledge. and we honestly just brain-connected. as soon as we locked eyes, i started thinking i want to be your friend. and now we're friends. and we're gonna be great friends.

i've been listening to a lot of jazz, bossa nova, and swing lately. do you have any idea what fly me to the moon does to my neurons? frank sinatra makes my tail wag. i played pinball tonight. there were so many flashing colors and lights. and then on top of it, i was listening to all of this great music. fuck. ella fitzgerald? bobby darin? astrud gilberto? crank the volume. you know? i don't think i can sleep in this state. i hope i will though. luckily i don't have class until afternoon, so i can stay up all night. or something. i don't know.

all of that aside, i feel great. i want to open my window and howl into the night. or dance around until the sun rises. i want to do something. i want to find something amazing in a store that i don't usually go in. i want to go exploring. and i want to watch a movie. i want to play hide and seek.


i can feel it in my bones. i'm gonna have fun tomorrow.



discrete, not discreet.

been away for a while, and i'm sorry. it's hard finding free time. luckily, today, i woke up about early with nothing to do. which equals free time in my book.

i've been hanging out (so to speak) with my new supervisor. she works at a museum where outpatients and a few inpatients make art. beautiful, beautiful art. they're so much fun to talk to. it makes me bored with so-called real people. sanity aside, it's so much more comfortable talking to most of the people i've met there. my sister found it amusing that they all thought i was a patient or outpatient upon first meeting me. maybe it is amusing. probably not. i told her, "i think i've found somewhere i belong." meaning as a therapist. she said, "i figured you'd say that. i always knew you belonged somewhere like that." meaning in a psychiatric hospital.

ha, ha.

i started reading a beautiful mind by sylvia nasar. it's a biography about john nash. it's a lovely book so far. it reminded me of how much i love reading a good book. springtime, as a child, meant allergies for me. red eyes, runny nose, etc. allergies meant i couldn't play outside. obviously. so i stayed indoors, with books as company. i can't say this often enough. there's nothing  that compares to a good book. people are tiresome after a while. especially the friends i seem to end up with. it seems like people want friends they can be around all day, every day. i know waterbear and i were kind of like that for a while, but that was during the preliminary stages of our friendship. (and even we spent time apart.) we're content with occasional conversations now. you don't need to spend every waking second with someone to be good friends with them. and you probably shouldn't. i know i can't.

anyway, i don't know if i can do this regularly. i don't know if i can spend time with people the way i've been spending time with people. i've missed my room. when i woke up this morning and i took the time to breathe and listen, drink tea, read a little, look out the window, reflect... these things are priceless. socializing is overrated. it's always like this, though. the more time i spend with people, the more i enjoy solitude. the more time in solitude, the more i consider socialization. (key word: consider.) if there is a balance, i haven't found it.

at any rate, i've decided to take a much needed break from people. (after tomorrow night, when i play pinball with an old friend. she's wonderful, but that'll be the last straw.) somehow, i've been doing most of  my homework and passing my tests. some girl had the nerve to be angry with me because i didn't study for a test and  passed. i already knew basic biology. so sue me. i'll probably have caught up with myself completely by the beginning of may. i can always tell when it's time to put some distance between myself and other people. and you know what i think?

it's about time.



round and round and round.

yesterday i didn't go to sleep because i stayed up writing a three page essay. apparently, the teacher only wanted one. (good news: she liked it anyway. lucky me.) i also stayed up studying for a test that turned out to be open notes. somehow i manage to function normally without sleep. unfortunately, with that comes a greater chance for impulsive behavior, a decreased possibility for logical thinking, and the knowledge that nothing will make any sense.

take this afternoon, for example. a friend of mine asked me out on a date. i said, sure i 'll come along. i have nothing better to do tonight. sleep? nah, i'll come hang out with you and some other people i don't know. i'd be a liar if i said i didn't have fun, but i can have fun with just about anyone. what wasn't fun was when he dropped me off at home, and was obviously going for what i assume is the standard finisher to every "date". i dodged, gave him a hug, and got the fuck out of that car. he's quite possibly the last person i would've expected to do something like that. but he did. and now it's there, in the air between us. (hopefully he picks me up for school tomorrow, though, i really don't think i want to take the bus.)

you know what doesn't make sense? crush # 2. the tiny creature who's had a crush on me for the past (approximately) four years. i know i said, i rejected him for a good reason and i'll probably keep that up because i'm stubborn. well, no. i actually really want to tell him i like him. but of course, now that i'm ready to go full david cassidy mode and start singing, "i woke up in love this morning," or "i think i love you," he's totally not paying attention to me. i mean, he is, kind of, but not the same as before. and i'm afraid it really is because he has me figured out. i don't like being predictable. and no matter what i do, he just looks at me the same way. he doesn't even give me good hugs anymore. he's just doing schoolwork and focusing on blahblahblah. school sucks.

i need sleep. my eyes are literally dying. i have class all day tomorrow, from the morning, until 9 at night, and i have no break-times. that being said, i'm probably going to stay away all night tonight too. i witnessed a really negative racial moment tonight and it upset me. a lot. so i'm going to watch malcolm x (the 1992 film), and then contemplate privileges and oppression. and then i'm going to do my homework for tomorrow. and if i finish all of this before 5 am, then i'll go to sleep. if not, i'll stay awake. two days in a row, yay. i don't count fifteen minute naps as sleep, although they do help. it has to be at least 2 hours for me to say i slept.

damn that crush # 2 for placing my mind in turmoil. i rejected that brainy kid and i rejected my friend tonight, all because of the hope that this stupid guy still likes me and won't reject me. i should make some tea and think about that too. my brain is going in circles, which is nice. sometimes it jumps from topic to topic to topic to topic, and sometimes it stays on a few topics for absurd periods of time. they're both nice, but the second one feels better right now. bleah. he has insomnia too. i should text him.

stay up all night before having to stay awake all day. text crush # 2. do homework. watch a movie. and finish it all before it's time to leave for school. this plan is so bad, it's good. i like it.



time out.

i should be studying for a test in my quasi-psychological but basically feminist class. (for the record, i have nothing against feminists. i just despise irritating old women with whiny voices and hypocritical thought patterns.) however, i don't really want to study, i need to figure out what i'm doing tomorrow, and the day is almost over, which is really bad, considering what day it is.

quickly, now.

meow. <3

i didn't forget, my fellow nail polisher. i hope it was good. i hope you're smiling. take care of yourself, friend, whatever you're up to. i hope the weather's amazing and the sky is clear and the stars are all sparkling above you and such. everything should be lovely, because it's your birthday. but then, you already knew that.

i hope you have a happy birthday, ray.


twenty one.

i finally turned twenty-one. (happy new year to me.) because of all the things i was doing with school, i didn't have any time to plan something. or do anything. as far as "birthdays" go, it was uneventful. i've wondered and still wonder why i still subscribe to the notion that something exciting has to happen on my birthday, or something involving other people. in retrospect, nothing good ever happens when i try to spend time with people on my birthday. either way, it's nice to still be alive.

if  you had asked me nine years ago what my life would be like when i hit twenty one, i would've had some crazy ideas. some of the things i wanted to do when i was younger, i did. actually, up to this point, most of the things i wanted to do when i was younger, i did. a few things were just completely stupid, pointless, or otherwise unimportant, so i don't really mind having not done them.

i found out that one of my friends is moving to another state about two weeks ago. i was really upset with him, because he didn't tell me, and i found out through another person. but then i realized how stupid it was to waste our remaining time together. that's one of the cool things about growing up and having so many experiences. i realize things a lot faster than i used to. like when someone's full of shit. or when i should keep my mouth shut.

i'm starting to appreciate simpler people more. you know how some people just complicate your life and make everything stressful somehow? i don't need that. simple people (not stupid or boring, necessarily, just simple) are easier to talk to. they're easier to be around. they're like sneakers versus high heels. you can have them around all day and be completely comfortable. i know a few people who are like that all the time. i enjoy them. i'm finally getting rid of negative company. i want to be a person i can completely respect. that includes my choice of friends. for example, this muppet-like girl (and no, i don't mean awesomely puppety, i mean something else entirely) and i had this conversation. for the record, she thinks the sun shines out of her anus and we should all subscribe to her issues. wrong. and wrong.

her: is your smile broken? [insert shit-eating grin.]
me: yes. yes it is. [straight faced.]
her: oh really? why is that?
me: i can't smile when i look at your face.

that was a good day.

my room is as messy as ever, and i still carry my teddy bear around with me from time to time. i'm happy about that. i don't want to be like a lot of my friends, who crumbled under the pressure to grow up at a certain pace and let go of their childhoods. i don't plan on doing that. i like banana's i-don't-give-a-fuck attitude. she knows who she is, who she wants to be, and maybe she'll be offended by your reaction to her from time to time, but she'll stay that way. she's awesome. people who don't let other people change them are great people. unless, of course, they're horrible people. then they're still horrible.

i wrote a letter to myself for my birthday. i told myself, don't flip a tit over useless $#!*. i think that's probably the best advice i ever gave myself. everything else came from other people. the best advice i got on my birthday was from my supervisor. she said, "if you hit a wrong note, hit it again." basically, if i make a mistake, learn to be okay with it. learn from it. i have a tendency to not want to do something again, if my first shot at it is horrible. (i.e. i refuse to take my driver's test until i stop hating cars.) i don't think i'll grow as a person if i keep that up. so i don't plan on it.

i like the blankness of year twenty-one. i'm going to have fun with it.



after hours.

esmeralda and i brought everyone back to our hotel room around midnight on saturday to hang out and enjoy our last night together. we started off small, playing a tame version of never have i ever. we didn't have any alcohol, or anything to drink really, so we used ice cubes. i had a hard time finding things to say that anyone else in the room might have done that i hadn't. they didn't have a hard time finding things to say that i had done that they hadn't. that was great. it turned into truth or dare, which started with suspiciously pointed questions directed toward esmeralda. so naturally, i had to tell them to quit it. i had to defend her, because she and i had been friends the longest out of everyone else. then one of the guys said, let's just make it dare.

let the games begin.

we started off small, with little dares. i dare you to eat this cup of ice in two minutes, someone said to me. i started gagging at one point, much to the delight of all the males in the room. didn't do it, but we sure had fun. lick the wall, someone else said. i did it, nonchalant as hell, after saying i'd licked nastier things back in the day. a hotel wall was nothing. the lights in the room dimmed progressively from the time we started playing until we got up to some of the less innocent dares. we laughed under our breath, scoped out the room, and did our best to find dares that weren't too wild. poor esmeralda, she had to kiss two of the guys. one was her first ex, and the other was just completely unappealing (and impossible to get rid of). she took it like a champ though. (and rinsed her mouth with scope.)

the only other girl had to make it back to her hotel room, because she didn't want to get in trouble. after all, it was almost three a.m. by the time we started to run out of ideas for dares. one of the guys fell asleep, and soon it was just me and esmeralda, her ex and a new friend of ours, b. while her ex tried to find more games for us to play that would bring them back together, b and i slowly moved closer and closer.  it was cute. (he told me i needed a shirt with a fire flower on it that said "hot stuff". i laughed.) he traced tired circles on my back while i played with his hair.

then i remembered that i had dinner. i got really conscious about every square inch of my body. i started to feel horrible. and my mind started racing. esmeralda was also in the room, obviously. she's tall. thin. always has been, as long as i've known her. that didn't help much. it wasn't her fault, of course, i love her. she's like my little sister. in fact, for the entirety of the past three days, we were inseparable. but i couldn't help feeling like i was expanding, sitting on the hotel floor in the dark. i remembered her saying, earlier, while i was looking at a picture of this lady (who informally adopted me as her daughter) and i. we look more related than my actual mother and i, and we get along better. i had commented, fondly, she's so tiny. i love her. esmeralda gave me a strange look and said, you're tiny too, though. you two are the same size. could've fooled me.

nothing happened. not even a kiss. although i did think about it and he did try his best. so we talked, as esmeralda struggled to keep her ex away. even in his sleep, he was still drawn to her. i drew my finger across his collarbone. i named his muscles and bones. we faded in and out of consciousness. finally, the sun started to rise. he said he had to get back to his room, before his roommate woke up. we hugged. he left. esmeralda and i woke her ex up and sent him back to his room, and helped the other guy onto the couch, since he was too deep in sleep to do anything. then i fell took a two hour nap.

when i woke up, we had to get ready to leave. we took long showers, until water collected and dripped from the bathroom ceiling. sometime after we had both gotten dressed, while she was fixing her hair, we heard a knock at the door. she opened it, invited b to come in. conversation was harder, with esmeralda giving us sidelong glances and knowing smiles. he explained that his group was heading out earlier than expected, and asked me if he could have my number. i smiled as i gave it to him. then he left.

then we left.

saturday evening, i started writing a rage fueled post while everyone was out getting ice cream and/or tacos. (don't ask.) i felt like the whole thing was a stupid waste of time, and i was wishing i could go home. but considering the things that happened to make me feel that way, it could have been worse. and considering the good parts sprinkled in between the bad parts, i'm glad i didn't miss it. so i guess it wasn't too bad.



less than.

i'm going to at this conference/convention thing for the weekend. first of all, it really sucks because i don't totally want to be around the people i'm going with. second, i'm trying to figure out how i'll be able to avoid hotel food while i'm sharing a hotel room. (so far, not good.) third, i'm irritated because of leftover issues from yesterday and the fact that the people who are were supposed to be here about 45 minutes ago are not here, and still haven't arrived.

i'm supposed to be at this convention thing in the next forty minutes, and i know we won't get there in that amount of time. and i still have to put my stuff in my hotel room. i hate unreliable people.

so this leftover irritation from yesterday. what does it consist of? let's start with a little one.

1. the fact that crush # 4 forgot my name over the break. never mind the fact that it was only mentioned once, during the one conversation we had. i remembered his name. you think he'd have the decency to remember mine. (this being said, i forget people's names all the time, so i'll probably forgive him in the next two hours.) but the irritating thing isn't that he forgot my name. it's that he forgot my name and then when he tried to say hi to me later, i brushed him off because i was annoyed that he forgot my name. so i guess it is because he forgot my name. (again, this being said, people i've known for years don't even remember my name sometimes.)

2. because i'm insane, my mask of sanity slipped big time yesterday. and this girl was sitting in this building on campus, giving me a look that obviously said, someone please get this girl away from me, with her madness and explosive energy. what is she, psychotic? WELL YEAH. and i don't like her face. it's like she's in permanent bitch mode.

3. i lost my jacket. the jacket waterbear gave me the first time we hung out. it's got memories. i need to find it. one way or another.

4. there are birds of doom outside my window. crows. nothing good ever happens when i see crows before i go somewhere. usually i only see one.

5. these two girls keep bad mouthing owl girl whether or not i'm around them, and i hate that. she's my friend and i need to release some of this irritation. i'm thinking... cat fight 2014. (cat fight happens once a year, where i stop being nice and tell people what i really think. usually i feel so bad afterwards that it never happens again. but once a year is good. there's also bitch fest, which happens once a year, but is more of my mother and sister arguing while i sing the bitch fest theme song in my room. loudly.)

there's more, but those are the worst ones. well, the fourth one is from this morning, but the others are from yesterday.

so some of this, i edited just now. i wrote most of it earlier, but then those people arrived and i ended up having to shut my computer down so i could stuff it in my bag. because i had to  finish this post. gotta update. no slacking.

packed some emergency laxies, and diet pills. only ate the salad and a bit of bread for lunch earlier. turned everything else down. just salad would've been better, but i don't want the pressure to start on the first day.

now i'm in my room (i'm only sharing with one other person, thank fuck) and these two boys are in here hanging out. one of them i'm pretty close with (way younger than me, don't get any ideas) and the other one is new, and he's just attached to me and this girl. let's call her esmeralda because she just mentioned the hunchback of notre dame. and she'll probably pop up a lot, since i've known her for years, and i've been hanging out with her again.

i'm like, manic. and i just went on a kleptomania spree with esmeralda and one of the guys. we've been stealing from housekeeping carts all day. i've got enough scope for the rest of the month. which is good, because i value mouthwash. we'll be stealing more tomorrow. we also stole a bottle of water, because five dollars for a bottle is ridiculous. (a liter? come on.)

anyway, i can't type too long, or someone's gonna be like, "whatcha doin?" you know how nosy people are.

i didn't really say much. but it's good to update every once in a  while, right?

it's only right.



climbing climbing climbing never falling.

my friend is getting married. and i'm freaking out.

she's checking out these really cute indian dresses (emphasis on cute) for the bridesmaids, and i'm her maid of honor. so i think the order of importance for people in the wedding ceremony is as follows: bride, groom, parents, bridesmaids, grooms...boys. or whatever. with maid of honor in between parents and bridesmaids, and best man in between bridesmaids and grooms....monkeys. i get the feeling i'll look lumpy in anything she tries to pick. yes, lumpy. who wants a lumpy maid of honor? i'll tell you. no one. these memories are forever.

plus, pictures are permanent. it's one of few times i have no excuse for avoiding pictures. and i hate pictures.

the bad news is that currently, to the extent of my knowledge, i'd be the only bridesmaid without a date. the good news is that currently, to the extent of my knowledge, there's no [ +1] situation happening. which is great. really, i'm touched. no dates for anyone. yay.

on a less self-centered note, she's going to make a really pretty bide.and if any of the dresses she just showed me looked half as amazing on those hideous models, then it'll look absolutely breathtaking on her. (just kidding though, i've never seen an ugly indian model.) her husband to be is decently attractive as well. he looks like a less handsome version of aladdin, although still respectable in a non-animated way. and if the pictures of their immediate families say anything about the gene pool these kids are swimming in, their distant relatives are going to be gorgeous.

can you say duck duck goose? except in this case, i guess the bridesmaids' game would be swan swan ugly duckling. except at the end of the story, the ugly duckling really turns out to be a goose.

good news. i have five months to stop looking like the imprint of a converse sneaker in a pile of elephant scat. and bad news... school starts in two days. and i have this stupid conference this weekend, where i'll be staying in this hotel room with girls i only get along with because we never see each other. why didn't they just decide to lock starving wolves in a room together? it would end better.

wait, i need to stay positive. in two days, i get to see crush # 4 again. maybe. and i've been watching hey arnold, so i'm fully ready to display my undying affection in a completely emotionally unstable way. also, i've got a conference this weekend, which means i get a holiday from my mother and cat. although, to be honest, i'll kind of miss the cat.

i feel kind of bad that as much as i'm excited for her, i'm twice as terrified that i'll be wearing the same dress as other people. that's just terrible. and i'm also horrified about the fact that these pictures will be on facebook. i haven't been on that site in... i guess a year now. and i know i'll be tormented by the possibility of pictures up for public display. i'm being haunted by them now, and they don't even exist yet. the wedding's going to be beautiful. as for me? that's a big question mark. (it doesn't help that my sister just came home after a week of not being here, wearing tighter pants and looking skinnier than ever.)

this is bad. and i've been sitting in this body for months now. and it's not good enough. something must be done. i need a plan.

or, in case of an emergency, a ticket out of the country.



very funny.

my friend called me about two hours ago.

hey. i made the beans and such for tomorrow, but i'll need you to make some rice. funny you said that, and called at this EXACT MOMENT. wouldn't you know, i'm cooking rice right now. oh yeah? that's great. haha! yeah, yeah. i figured you'd forget about something like that. so how many servings of beans did you make? uhm... just make about seven cups. of rice?! that's madness! you're kidding, right? no wait... uhm... yeah, never mind, i'll make it. don't worry. i'm always picking up your slack. haha, that's what little siblings do. (NOTE: we are not related. but we should be. my life would be a lot better.) sure, sure, okay. i got it. see you tomorrow.

i don't know why it's weird, but having someone tell me to make approximately twenty-eight servings of rice for... (probably) eighteen servings of some kind of beans plus/etc/etc cooked thingy sounded absurd to me. why so much rice? there's no point to it. first of all, if there's too much rice, that's weird. and then, if there's not enough rice, that's weird. potlucks suck. actually, somewhere during that conversation, i think i said don't ask me anything about food servings, food makes absolutely no sense to me. i have no idea what to do with it. to which my friend responded, with more laughter, eat it?

yeah. haha. what a joker.

school starts for me on wednesday. all day today, i've been cleaning, and wondering, should i eat something? i've been eating for most of the winter break. isn't that... normal? shouldn't i eat something? but everyone always complains about gaining weight after the holiday season, i don't want to be one of those people. so i decided to have a last supper kind of thing. (so to speak.) the house was all sparkly and clean, so there i was, boiling water for rice. and then my friend called. you know that feeling, when you get caught doing something? i got that feeling. so i decided to donate my food to a worthier cause. or something like that. it made a lot more sense two hours ago. but after i decided to not eat the rice, i realized that i'm going "away" to a conference (of sorts) next weekend. and i don't intend to eat there. just because i don't like eating in front of people. and i'm not eating my friend's beany boopity blahblah tomorrow. (or the vegetables my mother's cooking, now that she's seen the rice i cooked for tomorrow. or anything tomorrow, most likely.)

speaking of which, what a jerk, eh? i cleaned the whole house, and she's in the kitchen messing it up. and she has the nerve to complain about me making the house messy. what a jerk.

but then i know if i don't eat, i'll end up telling banana probably, since she went to the gym today, and (darn my competitive side) i can be a real buttface sometimes. and then she'll be like, "fruits! eat fruits, they'll solve all your problems." and i'll be like, eating solves nothing! it's a temporary solution to a permanent issue! 

and so on and so forth.

so anyway, all of the aforementioned thoughts had just finished their third lap through my brain, when i decided, hey. i'm gonna eat something. (well, technically this was before my mother got home, so everything except that part.) and then my mother messed up the kitchen! what an outrage. normally, i'd close my door, so the stench of her repugnant foodstuff didn't suffocate me in my own room, but i currently have no doorknob.

and on top of all that, it's cold.

if this is life's idea of a joke, i'm not laughing.



participant # xxxxxxxxx.

as of tomorrow, i'll have had jury duty for two weeks. it's funny, jax, because that's one of the reasons i don't dig the whole "adulthood" situation. (and you just happened to mention it.) i don't completely hate jury duty. i'm getting forty dollars for each day i successfully drag myself out of bed and sit in a courthouse for hours, doing nothing but reading books and people watching. not high on the list of dream jobs, but not necessarily a complete nightmare.

i actually think yesterday might have been my last day going to the courthouse. only had to show up in person three times so far. my feelings about jury duty went something like this.

night before day one: ugh, this sucks. i don't even know where this stupid courthouse is. stupid requirements. stupid law.

day one: who are these weirdos... why is that guy looking at me.... i wish i could text my friends... i wish i had something to do... i hope i never have to come here again.

night before day two: not again!

day two: there's that creepy guy from last time... why is he stretching on the floor... why is that old dude so ripped... is someone snoring... what's that weird smell... did that lady honestly just say "i think you might have a situation in the bathroom"... why are all these people talking to me... i just wanna go home...

night before day three: here we go again...

day three: haha, i'm like a veteran at this... hey security guard dude! haha, yeah, i know, hand in my cellphone. see you 'round, pete! hey creepy guy! haha, yeah, it's me again. don't pull your hamstring, baby! hey, spicy asian man. what's shakin, bro? yeah. jury duty. what? it's over already? aw, darn. see you guys around, hm? yeah... haha. good times.

once you get used to sitting around doing nothing, it's surprisingly easy. reminds me a lot of college. the only difference is i'm getting money, instead of losing money. and it forces me to remain a part of society, which is also just like college. but it's so cold outside, i don't feel like it at the moment. cold and bright. never liked that combination. hazel-rah and i were talking last night, and he told me i need to learn how to swim, at which point i said i'd stay indoors forever. (or at least until school started.) and then he said, "you could get a rash from not moving enough. or even worse, fat!  you don't want to look like your sister, do you?" obviously, here, he means the half sister who gained fifty pounds, and not the one that barely grazes one hundred pounds on a bad day.

chilling words.

of course, none of that will be enough to get me out of this house today. nothing short of jury duty will get me out of bed until school starts. (actually, make that jury duty and other semi-required obligations.) my friend wanted to hang out at eight-thirty today. what is she, crazy? the sun is barely simmering then. plus, it's not like she's paying me. (maybe if it was warmer, i'd waive the fee...)

she could learn a thing or two about motivating people from jury duty.