name: amber
age: 22
location: new orleans
aim: sapgirly mail work
July 31, 2001
I look for love in all the wrong places. I know it's a cliche, but I love cliches and work on them all the time--breathing new meaning into them, making them my own. In any case, I do. And my fantasies aren't interesting at all, except to me. That's exactly why I like to write about them. They're probably not hardly even sexual to most people--they're simple, easy, the way I like them. Like today, I was sitting at dispatch and fantasizing about this guy putting his hand on my back and (et cetera--we start fucking in front of everyone) stuff. But like I said, in all the wrong places. I would never date anyone at work--that's too weird.
And damn! There's some funny-lookin' kids at the waterpark! Today, this chick had HUGE ears. I'm talking fat ass. They were like giant handles on the sides of her head. The other day, there was a chick with only two toes. Just a big one and a pinkie. Looked like she was saying rock-on, podiatrically.
Lastly, I have one more saying that doesn't mean much, but I find to be true:
I keep having this experience in dreams. It's not that it's the central focus of the dream because the actual focus of the dream changes all the time. It's just an experience. Constantly, though, when I'm in a dream, I'll try to get somewhere fast--I'll try to run--and I can't. It's like I'm trying to move through water. So when I wake up the first thing I want to do is not get ready for work or shower or prepare my homework or call my friends or go back to sleep. The first thing I want to do is get up and run, just to prove that I still can. Even now, I have not tested out my running abilities and have an intense fear that the next time I try to run, I will be slowed down by some invisible, inescapable force. It's horrible.
The focus of my dream last night was LMC. I was dreaming that I had taken all my classes there and it was the first day. Only, I was unable to locate my schedule. I searched everywhere for it, but still could not see it. (And here is another quality of many of my dreams--I'll be looking at something, but I can't really see it. Often, it'll be very blurry. Like I'll be looking at a printed page [as I was last night] and I can make out a word here or a number there, but not the whole thing. This, too, is very distressing, but easily removed from my fears by simply looking around my room--reading something.) And then, back to the dream, I realized that my class was in another building and that I was very late. So I tried running to get there, but I couldn't run, as I mentioned before. It was like being on the moon or something. And I ended up getting lost in some residential streets or dorms and then the dream switched and I went somewhere else.
The reason why I'm having nightmares about school is because registration was yesterday. Simply returning to the halls of that school brings my blood to a boil, returns all the old feelings of hatred and anxiety that I had forgotten about over the summer. It seems that we just got out and now we're going right back. Beyond that, though, I'm extremely upset with the classes they gave me--having completely skipped over the ones I wanted and filling my schedule with psychology, speech and OFFICE PRACTICE. Can they not see that I am taking three AP courses and have a 3.800 GPA? In any case, I demanded a schedule change, only to be told by my house's VP that changes weren't "technically" allowed and that to do anything, she would have to consult Mr. Bergerhouse (whom my mother hates with a passion due to him giving me an administrative detention last year). So I told her to go ahead and consult Mr. Bergerhouse, whom I offered to talk to if need be and explain to him that even if he wasn't "technically" supposed to do it, I think that he should as a personal favour for myself, considering the extensive academic loyalty I have shown the school in the past. And if they won't do any of that, I'll keep physics zero period and I'll just not have a class 7th on odd days. That will be fine with me and would even out the fact that they gave me calculus ap and gov/politics ap on the same day. Furthermore, school is a thing of high-stress for me at the moment because they did NOT offer Spanish V and I will, therefore, be forced to take it at LMC or DVC because one year off of Spanish means I am not a Spanish-speaker and I never will be. It has always been my plan to be fluent, ever since I signed up for it early in 8th grade. I will not lose my fucking Spanish and I will suck it up and work like a dog senior year to keep it, and my english and my math. And I will have no life and I probably won't update my website (even the one I just bought that still doesn't work) but I will do my best and probably fail and probably drop a class or two but that's what I want right now. In the meantime, I'm trying to cram as much enjoyment into the next two weeks as possible as something to look back on with fondness for the rest of the year. Your loyal blogger, signing off.
So I finally did it! I bought a freaking domain: asphyxiate.org. Only...it's completely not working through dotster. It says I have no registered domains, fuckers. I'm so dumb about all this stuff. I just want somebody to hold my hand and walk me through it so that it's easy. At the same time, though, I would like to be a year from now saying "hey--nobody held my hand and walked me through it so don't expect me to help you." That would be cool.
Oh, and in other news--I'm going to a Good Riddance show tomorrow in beautiful Santa Cruz, California, with my buddy Gina. She's so cool. She's my access to everything punk. I wasn't punk at all before I met her. I didn't even thrift. That should be cool, anyway. I'm watching this "before they were rock stars" thing on VH1 and it's this ancient tape of Moby. He looked so lost. He has a lost face. I hope my goddamn domain name starts working. I've already complained. I'm willing to complain a lot more. I want my own webpage godDAMNit!
Okay, so I kind of did change the layout. A little bit, anyway. So I should change all the link colours and whatnot but fuck it. I hope to be off this shit soon, anyway. A new navigation is the best you're going to see. I'm serious. That's the best you're going to see. I'm pleased. The only links I'm changing right now are blogger's. They're so ugly. Supposed to be the colour of condoms but not really. Couldn't find the right translucent-looking mother-of-pearl. Ha. Go to bed.
I want to change my layout cuz I know it sucks but it's really hard for me because I haven't been using CSS and I have so much content. The new layout I have is nice and pretty and simple and not so ugly and pathetic but I don't want to use it here and start over. I will not start over.
I went to the Exploratorium today with Kelly. She and I have this weird connection that I don't have with anyone else. I don't know if she does but we are like those stupid tv shows or movies where the people complete each others' sentences and say the same thing in a conversation or whatever. I don't know. We've always just clicked like that. Twice, today. Normally we only get one good one per trip or whatever. Got hopelessly lost in San Francisco, like I always do. (Dammit, I promised myself no more links unless they were good ones. Well, good info at both of those.) We drove all the way down to Pacifica on Highway One, got directions from a nasty gas station guy (quote: "Wow, I didn't think there were any pretty girls in Berkeley."), turned ourselves around and sat in traffic for two hours. Then we hung out at Broadway Plaza and listened to the jazz show that was going down and had dinner at "The Cantina" which was a very nice Mexican restaurant. Wow---I really am boring. Okay, do you want a generalization about life or a comment on ...something important? Alright. Here's another one of my "say it all the time but it doesn't really mean anything quotes:"
To hell with false modesty!
Yes, but what does it mean? I don't know. I just say it.
And hey, here. One more thing today. This is a quote from my real journal. The one I write in ink on:
"I don't know how much longer I'll be able to tolerate this. Sometimes it feels like rage, but it isn't rage. It's a silence. A deafening silence that eats into the cacophony of life, stilling. It accompanies every bad thought, every unhappy experience I have. It seeps into my pleasant memories, ripping away the walls I have built for self-protection. I finally see what it is: not an individual desire--a crush, nor anxiety or nervousness. What this feeling is is loneliness. Not until this point was I able to see that. Now I do. My eyes are wide-fucking-open and I'm still blind to my own faults. This loneliness follows me around like a sick dog and I have no choice but to take it in, dote on it, care for it." Also:
"I hate names. It is so frustrating organizing one's head based on so bland a thing as names. They should be short descriptions. Mine would say Introspective Intelligent Thoughtful Child."
I'm so annoyed that the 2nd July 21st thing isn't going away. Stupid Blogger. I wish I was hosted, but no one wants to give me any room. Does my site really suck that much? I thought I had it hooked up, but she hasn't gotten back to me and it's been a while. I'm sick of working off this server and not having perl or cgi access. FTP now, but I know that any day, we're going to get ads on our pages and I'm really going to hate that. I must sound really whiny right now. I'm positive I do. Well fuck you! I have every right to complain.
Oh! And guess what? Go to PlanetKiki.com and click on "wannabe." That's so fucking...ME. I was wondering where all these hits were coming from. Five a day is a new freaking record for me. No, seriously, it is. It's kind of cool, but I was kind of bullshitting a lot about liking the book but that's alright! She doesn't mind! I plugged her site and everything...on her own site. Really really cool flash though. So I thought I should update since there are so many visitors coming. Oh, and check out my latest (again, not good enough to spend the effort to make it its own page):
Unrequited is a Cliche Worth Repeating
You could make me love you,
but I won't cry a tear.
Send me the rain
and I'll watch it fall.
I will give up everything
if you'll take the pain.
For anything,
take this terror.
I dream of you--write you,
call you, see you.
I create you and listen to your breath
over the phone.
Love is not a mystery worth solving.
Love is not roses and sunshine.
Love is a bottomless pit
I throw myself in--
hiding in the darkness.
It is its own punishment.
"And I feel, so much depends on the weather
So is it raining in your bedroom?" --STP
I absolutely hate the fact that Adam has seen my breasts. And I feel...so dirty. I went into work today with a heavy conscience, thinking it might be weird. I didn't speak to Dave. I kind of chatted with Bryan but I hung out with him in the morning and I didn't do a damn thing to him. (You know, the more I think about it, the more I like Bryan. Not that I want to fuck him or anything cuz he's kind of a fatty but he's the sweetest guy. I'll probably never see him again after this summer but whatever. I never get to keep the people I really love.) I think I'm cool with Scott. But really, all this embarrassment and self-degradation I'm feeling, I've dumped on Adam. So I have a great amount of contempt right now that is supposed to block off my own feelings. But I do feel that if Adam hadn't been there, I wouldn't be acting like this. I shouldn't be acting like this. It wasn't a big deal. It wasn't a big deal. It was a really fucking big deal to me. I just can't get over it. I have never done anything like that and I don't like it at all. I guess I am a baby. It just makes me sick. I feel sick. I feel hungover, but I don't think I am. Maybe I'm just tired. Perhaps the sun tomorrow will wash away this feeling just like it should have washed it away this morning. Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps there's someone reading this. Perhaps not. I suppose even if I knew no one read it, I would still write it. My journal, my diary. My life. Not that you know who Bryan, Scott, Adam, Lottie, Aaron, Phil are... They're just people. Just like me. Just like you. I need to sleep.
You ever write one of these: a morning-after commentary? You get up from wherever it was you crashed, find yourself at home, overhung and with nothing better to do than write about it? That's me today. Only I'm not so hung over. I wish I was because then I would have an excuse for some of the stuff I did last night.
Anyway--last night was one of nudity. Really. There was a serious game of strip poker going on in this side room for a good hour. I went to walk Jenn to where she could buy weed from Josh and when we came back, all the girls had off everything but their panties. (But I have to talk about getting weed.) So Jenn and I are walking down the street to go pick this shit up and Nathan, Josh's brother, hops out of the car and tells us to get in. Josh starts driving and then the boys tell Jenn to pack a bowl. They wanted to smoke her weed (which apparently wasn't a problem), so we hot boxed it. I really didn't get high. I never get high. I don't even know why I smoke. So then when we got back, Jenn, Diana and I headed out to the back yard to smoke. They both ended up passing out. I didn't feel anything. That's what I'm saying.
But I must have been a little tipsy (perhaps due to some alcohol) and when Jessica suggested we all play this "modified" truth or dare game, it sounded like a good idea. So we all wrote down dares and had to put our names on them. This is the modified part: you have to do your own goddamn dare. So, of course, the first one she pulls out is mine and what did I say? Well fuck! There was chocolate syrup on the counter; I thought a good dare would be to lick it off someone's chest. They all thought this was hilarious and I'm a good girl! So Dave lies down on the table (and he was the last person I wanted to lick) and they pour all this syrup on him and made me lick all of it up. It was horrible. But not as horrible as when Lottie suggested we all go skinny-dipping in Bryan's 3x3 hot tub. So all of us strip down and hop in. The water was so cold. After about a minute and a half, it wasn't funny anymore. It wasn't even cute. I felt like a total tramp. Mostly because of who we were in the hot tub with. If you know Adam (which I'm sure you don't) you'd know that the last place you want to find yourself is naked in a hot tub with him. It totally grossed me out. I still am so ashamed of myself for doing that. Fuck. And I have to work today.
PS--I may or may not decide to change my mind about disliking Aaron. I could grow to like him. If he's going to be "with" Diana, then I guess I'll have to put up with him anyway. But he did drive me home and he wasn't being a bitch or anything. He even watched to make sure I could get into my house. Awwh. And he didn't fucking rape Diana which just rounds it out. And his car is fucking trashed. Okay, I'll tell the story:
So Alicia, Lottie, Melissa, Natalie and I all went to lunch. We were nice and lunch-like for an hour and then we went back. Alicia didn't really have a lunch. She had a roll of crackers but she's anorexic or something so she didn't eat them. We were having fun throwing them at cars, when it dawns on everyone as a good idea to put crackers all over Aaron's car. Only Aaron had left his windows cracked and uh...it was suggested that they throw some in the car. And they did. Today, I rode in the back of his truck thing and if someone did that to my car, I wouldn't just shrug it off. I would smack the fuck out of Alicia and Melissa. I, wisely, kept myself cracker-free. Though I watched and didn't try to stop them or anything, I didn't touch a single cracker. And I'm damn glad.
Ask me why I'm happy? Just ask me! Because Envy has FTP!!! As far as I know, it is the only site online to offer banner-free ftp hosting. Of course, I'm sure that soon, those banners will come up because there's this mysterious code inside my "view source" that just...isn't in the html editors they provide. Funny, huh? It's so...weird. (And I just tested the pages I just ftp-ed. Hmm. It makes a lot of sense now that we're required to use their ftp client. Isn't life a bitch?)
But, in any case, it'll be banner-less and free for the time being, though probably not for long. But I did lots of things today. For one, I went thrifting today. I found stores I had never found before. I happened across stores that I didn't even know were there, saw roads that stores were on that I had driven past a million times. I was ON today. On. In any case, I didn't even buy that much. I wasn't really looking to buy; I was looking to find. I got a lamp and a cool pin and a couple of shirts--a blanket. I'll try and update my "thrift" page (the link there), but...I didn't spend too much time in any of the stores so I can't really say. My favourite part of the whole day was finding a freaking Salvation Army where I didn't even know there was one! It was beautiful.
Another interesting part of my day was a huge warehouse of junk. It was in a T.J. Maxx parking lot is how I saw it. I thought one of my thrift stores might be there, but it wasn't. I decided to go in T.J. Maxx anyway cuz I like them (and Ross and Wards, which, unfortunately, has gone out of business). When I came out of the parking lot, I was walking to my car when my eyes were enticed with signs saying "EVERYTHING 25-75% off!" "Check out our 25 cent bins!" etc. I had to go check it out. So I walk in and it was, as I said, a huge warehouse of junk. There was stuff everywhere--in display cases, in baskets, on shelves. All kinds of ridiculous junk. I walked up and down the aisles, looking for that one thing worth going up to the register for. And then I found it. Nestled among nasty old hairbrushes and corny keychains, I came upon one bin labeled "pocket vibrator." Amazed, I picked up a box and opened it, curious if it was what I thought it was. And it was. A small, battery-powered pocket vibrator. So I bought two. One for Phil and one for me. She'll love it. Note: I had a thought while I was in that store. It was about the music. The music they were playing was horrible, just awful. Stores like that always play horrible music and it struck me that it seemed like they had to play music they could get cheap and easily, just like the giant jars of mayonnaise or the extra-ugly Goody hair pins. Yeah.
The last thing I have to say today is about Marsh Creek Road. Marsh Creek is a windy, pukey back road that allows you to go seamlessly from Concord to Antioch. It's a wonderful road because you don't have to take Highway 4 or 680 and sit in traffic like a bitch for an hour. The problem with the road is not that it's windy. It's that people coming home from work that know it like the back of their hand like to go 60. The speed limit is for 25. In any case--I am scared to death when I drive it but it's kind of a cool feeling and certainly better than sitting in traffic. Anyway, today we were driving along--speeding along--and we come up over this bend and and there's a car sitting there on it's top. I didn't see anyone inside, but the lady behind looked freaked as hell. We slowed down a lot then, to my happiness. Everybody was scared shitless. It had just happened, too. The firetruck came whizzing by the road and then an ambulance (like 10 minutes later!) It was a good day.
My digital camerafinally came today. And I've been working hardcore on some new designs for my site, blatantly ripping off ideas from various other websites, stealing Javascript and whatnot. Because though I did try to learn, alas, I'm not a brilliant web-brain. In any case, I have a lot of stuff down. I'm still working on one site, but other than that, if I was given another couple of hours, I could bust out my page for you. Not that it's going here. Oh no. But I've decided to leave this up, just like I did everything else I've left behind. Only this blog won't be here. I want the archives to go to my new site. So I'm just going to change its name if I can and if not who cares and this page won't exist anymore because I'm taking the blog off because my blog is going to be my main page and I certainly can't have this looking like my other main.
What I really want to do right now is go take some pictures, so I may just head off because I don't work til 7. I have to see how much batteries this thing eats. I bet it eats a lot. I just wanted to blog and fill all (0) of my readers in on what's going on in my life. I should be doing my summer reading, but I'm not. Oh, speaking of 0 readers --- I finally put up a counter and confirmed my suspicions that no one comes to my site. Ciao.
I spent all of yesterday learning Cascading Style Sheets. They're kind of a bitch to learn. It seems like I didn't spent all day doing that, but now I can't really think of anything else I did, besides maybe play with my webcam. In any case, I'm working on employing CSS on a new site layout I'm working on. What a beautiful thing to know that I can change my whole site without editing every page. In any case, I was told that I might have a position on the web at a personal site, so I have to make sure and build a design. I have no intention of bringing over everything like I normally do when I switch sites. That's just too time-consuming. I thought I should update since I spent all day yesterday on the computer and didn't say a word.
In other news, it's Friday the 13th. Nothing spooky has happened to me so far. I doubt anything spooky will happen in the next 2 hours. Well, unless you count Carlos asking me to smoke with him and Darija calling me, neither of whom pay me all that much attention. Of course, we didn't smoke because he didn't say anything else about it and I didn't want it to appear that I wanted to smoke with him. I haven't in a long time and Kelly gave it up. He's such a pot head.
I really like this site. Maybe some day people will be interested in what I have to say. Even if they don't, I suppose it doesn't matter. (See?)
This is my latest poem, but it's not good enough to put in the section:
I Used to Rhyme
I used to rhyme
and with a wandering eye,
I sought all
I wished to find.
I used to spin the words
lazily across the paper,
not caring if I obscured
the meanings.
I dressed up careless thoughts,
made them hot with importance,
held back like Jewel--
polished what I had wrought.
I wanted to be like Dr. Seuss--
these were my role models.
I was young and impressionable.
Now I have read Emily Dickinson.
I can still do.
I still can.
It just makes me clench my teeth.
--July 8, 2001
And this is "Peaches and Cream" by 112:
So hot, hot
It's the S the L the I the M,
Let me tell you
What I wanna do
Let me show you
That I'm feelin' you
Wanna sex
Wanna ride with you
Wanna taste
Wanna put my lips
All over you
Can't get enough of you
Always a kid for you
So sweet, so very wet
So good, girl you
Make me sweat
Girl I'm talkin' 'bout
CHORUS:
Peaches and cream
I need it 'cause you know
That I'm a fiend
Gettin' freaky in my
Bentley limousine
It's even better when
It's with ice cream
Know what I mean
Peaches and cream
I need it 'cause you know
That I'm a fiend
Gettin' freaky in my
Bentley limousine
It's even better when
It's with ice cream
Know what I mean
Peaches and cream
I never thought
That I would be
So addicted to you
On top, underneath,
On the side of you
Better yet baby
Inside of you
Love the way you
Just flowin' down
And I can feel it all around
In the front
In the back of you
Ooh I love that taste of you
Girl you know what
I'm talking about
Repeat chorus
Won't stop girl you know
I can't get enough
Wanna taste it in the morning
When I'm waking up
I ease cobbler in my stomach
When I eat it up
Got your leg around my neck
So I can't get up
See the boys 112
We from the A'
When it comes
To eating peaches
Shorty we don't play
So all ladies in da house
If know your peach da sh*t
Put your hands in the air
Represent your clique
Repeat chorus
I need it 'cause you know
That I'm a fiend
(You know I need it)
Gettin' freaky in my
Bentley limousine
(I gotta have it)
(It's always on my mind)
Know what I mean,
Peaches and cream
I like it in my car or
Even in my bed
(I need it 'cause you know
That I'm a fiend)
(Gettin' freaky in my
Bentley limousine)
Or maybe on the stairs
Ice cream,
Know what I mean
Peaches and cream
Oh girl I need it
(I need it 'cause you know
That I'm a fiend)
I gotta have it
(Gettin' freaky in my
Bentley limousine)
It's always on my mind
(It's even better when
It's with ice cream)
Know what I mean
Peaches and cream
I like it in my car
(I need it 'cause you know
That I'm a fiend)
Or even in my bed
(Gettin' freaky in my
Bentley limousine)
Or maybe on the stairs
(It's even better when
It's with ice cream)
Know what I mean,
Peaches and cream
I need it 'cause you know
That I'm a fiend
Been playing with my webcam, trolloping around the various web cam community sites. The only one that appears to work very well at all is Eyeball Chat. It's alright except that you barely get any info about the people you would talk to. And it could be the time...but all I get are guys with pictures of their dicks. It's really gross. People are so self-demeaning.
Aside from that, watching MTV's Undressed. The show is terrible. It really is. In fact, The Misanthropic Bitch once called it the worst show she's ever seen. I wouldn't go that far. There's always Hour of Power. But in any case, the show just really sucks you in. Maybe it's the bad acting, or the poor storylines...but all that just makes the show seem so horribly fake it's almost real. In any case, they're set up so that after about 6 episodes, the storyline is over and the next show starts afresh with new characters and everything. The problem is, MTV doesn't put commercials at the end of their shows, but rather, one 1/3 of the way through, the other 2/3, instead of one at the beginning and one halfway. So even if you finish the 6th show and get ready to change the channel, a new one has already started and you're glued, man. Glued. They play this show all night long because videos aren't good enough anymore. There's a neverending stream of bad TV. I can't help myself.
So...after work today, Kelly, Diana, Krisi and I were supposed to go to Applebee's to have dinner. Only, no one told me that plans were off. Yeah. It sucked for me. However, the maitre 'd asked me to have dinner with him, but I politely declined, stating that if I wasn't eating with my friends, I would have to go home and get to work on...well, whatever. He wasn't very attractive.
Last night, I spent a large amount of time reading this online book about how to shoplift and where to find free lodging and free colleges and basically--how to be a hippie. I was actually very fascinated by this book and very curious to see if these things would work. I seriously read most of it, completely missing the clues until I got all the way down to the bottom, where it listed the phone numbers of major positions in the white house--the first one being Richard Nixon, "the comeback president." I scrolled back up to the top and was completely humiliated to find the copyright for 1971. Stupid me. I was just about ready to write to the Berkeley Barb and ask for a subscription. What a stupid moron I am and am rather ashamed of myself that I am so unfamiliar with the hippie heritage that is not 45 minutes from my own doorstep. Shame, shame.
Check out the digital camera my Mommy just bought me. I'm so fucking spoiled, but I don't even care because she said that we have to spend the money we have now because we're filing for bankruptcy (which is ridiculous). So anyway, she said she would have to buy us Hannukah presents early this year, which is fine with me because Autumn is the best time for picture-taking anyway. Expect some nifty digital pictures up soon! Ha. Really. Ha. Man, I've blogged a bunch today.
Okay, I'll re-write about Ricky because that's what I did last and I forgot most of the stuff I wrote about "Fred." Okay, never mind. I'll just write about Fred too.
In any case, I have a gay friend who isn't technically "gay" to most of the people around us, so I'll call him Fred. Nobody reads my website anyway, so I'm not worried about being found out squealing his sexual orientation. At first, I couldn't hardly believe he was gay, but now it seems like I'm a moron for not noticing before. I was thinking about it before, and I don't see how a man could possibly appreciate his beauty, any of it. At least, not any man I've ever met. I also talked about how I hate and love gay guys all at once because they never stop hitting on me! As if they're not gay! I get told constantly that I'm beautiful and sexy (which is ridiculous) and it just kills me. It really does. Life is irony. Irony is life. (I said exactly that before).
In other news (I said), Ricky has decided to recast me in his original production of "This Time It's Personal" or "Not Again, This Time, Once More" or something like that. He would kill me for butchering his title so badly, especially since I was in his cast for like...weeks. Actually, I was kind of a 7th choice for him or something for his 8-line part, playing a "dumb reporter." I did my best. My lines were the worst in the whole freaking play and he attributed that to the fact that he can't write girls. ::shrug:: So he's making this play into a movie now and he asked me to come back and do it. I *feverishly* look forward to working with the old gang (ha) again around the same time school gets in.
(As a side note--I have always kind of had this weird back-and-forth deal with Ricky. Sometimes, not often, I think I do dislike him, but most of the time, I think I treat him like garbage because I'm a conniving, disgusting, whorish little bastard that is more interested in social standing than being friends with this weird, cool guy. I have no problem saying this, even though I gave him this url not yesterday, because I'm positive he already knows that. At least I'm human enough to recognize what I'm doing. Or at least, that's something I tell myself. Sometimes I pretend that I'm a really giving, caring, loving person, but most of the time, I sit in this horrible place inside myself and I don't lie and I recognize the fact that I'm a really bad person and I don't care about people; I don't like little kids; I don't feel any need to help other people, or return money I find on the ground, or make sure everything comes out fair. Most of the time I'm just a fucking bitch and that's mostly the way I treat Ricky. Just because he's a geek. But I guess, in a way, so am I. I am.)
Now I'm annoyed. I just wrote for a freaking hour on this thing and then Blogger fucked up and killed my post. Goddamnit!!!!! I wrote all about my gay friend "Fred" and Ricky and all kinds of stuff and now it's gone. All gone and I'm not re-writing it. Fuck you.
My brother thinks he knows Guns 'n Roses. He doesn't know them. (By the way, having found their site--apparently they still tour, despite the death of their frontman Axl Rose.)
The situation between my stepfather and I has deteriorated to the point of nothingness. For instance, he is a giant dick and I ignore him. It seems like we used to get along fairly well, but I have fully grown into my "teenage rebellion" period, apparently, and now I'm completely unhandleable. Or something. At least I'll be out of his stupid reach in a year. I probably won't have to deal with his bullshit ever again. Just like my stepmother. I hope to never see her again. Ever. Really. I've been successful for 5 years. I don't expect to fail in the future.
I think I have folliculitis. It's caused by shaving and wet cloth rubbing on your skin. Yeah. I think I have it. Goddamnit! Stupid Aaron making me guard in a fucking wet t-shirt. Fucker. Anyway, I suppose if I clean it and use antibacterial soap or whatever, it will go away. Am I grossing you out? Am I? Well fuck off! Every goddamn guard has a rash of some kind. Harsh working environment, I'm telling you. Oh shit, was I bitching about guarding again? Fuck!
More than that, though, I think Borders is trying to fuck me. I bought two books, If on a Winter's Night a Traveler... by Italo Calvino and The Courage of Their Convictions: Sixteen Americans Who Fought Their Way to the Supreme Court by Peter Irons, two books that are required for my AP English and Government classes, respectively. Anyway, Borders ships the Supreme Court one but not the other, charging me $5 bucks for shipping. I think they're trying to fuck me. If they don't fucking send me the other book, I'm gonna be pissed as fuck. I really am.
I really am a creepy, weird person. I know I've been talking about work a lot lately, but it's what I do, you know? What else am I supposed to talk about? I work 5 days a week, slaving away under the Sun, for a measly $6.75 an hour. Yeah. Well poo on you!! Don't tell me I suck, because my last paycheck was almost $400. Who's the bitch now, motha!?
In any case, I was bitching about how weird I am. Seriously. Let me tell you some more about my job. (Imagine me being sarcastic, there.) I sit/walk/stand all day, hanging out with myself, making sure kids don't run/jump/go down slides/et cetera (and sometimes I help them live). This affords a great amount of thinking time. I would say the best spot in the whole park for thinking is 2nd top, which means that you sit in this guard chair on the top of a hill and tell kids when to go down our slide called "Canyon Cooler." Not a lot of kids like it, so the spot is mostly hanging out on the chair and looking around at the town. Mostly I think about music and people, boys, girls, my family--the kids. I have really interesting thoughts that I can't figure out exactly what they mean. For example:
So I'm sitting at 2nd top today, and I'm watching the cars drive by on the street some 200 feet in front of and down from me. It strikes me that there's people in each of those cars. And then, my thought is of the guy in the pool at the bottom of the slide, Aaron. I go to Aaron in my head because I was thinking of him earlier. He's a real dick, at least, I think he is and most of my fellow employees think he is. He's got this whole condescension and I'm-only-polite-to-you-because-I-have-to-be thing going on. In any case, I think of him and I'm thinking you know, we're all just...people. That's all. Nothing more. Nothing less. Now, does that make any sense? No. Not really.
It always kind of seems to, though. Another major thought I have is: it doesn't really matter. I say I suppose it doesn't matter at least 10 times a day. I'll have a completely blank mind, and just say in my head "I suppose it doesn't matter." I'm such a nutty person. Where do I find room for books and music and learning with all this stupid crap up in my skull?
I feel like I should update, even if I haven't written a story or a poem or anything. Next to that--there's Blogger, right? I suppose I should also get-ta-steppin on my thriftin' list of places I've already gone, but it's just so boring and Envy is so slow.
In any case, yesterday was the Fourth of July. I had to work, but I was off at 4 (ha). My main plan was to go home, take a nap, and then work on Flash for the rest of the evening, completely skipping the whole watch-fireworks-possibly-get-drunk/high scene. But, alas, Krisi calls me and she, Diana and I went up to this hill by where we live and watched the fireworks downtown. They were about "this big." Not very impressive. Then we went back to my house, hung out all night and then they went home. It was kind of lame but who really cares, you know? I don't.
Also, I have been working on flash and I think eventually, I will change this site to a flash one and have some cool stuff. Maybe. Maybe not, but maybe. I have to work some more on it cuz right now, I really suck.
You guys wanna know a special little secret? So...remember that web cam from a day or two ago? (Just scroll down til you see the picture of bars..yeah--that was the picture). Anyway --shhhh--- the company my Dad bought it from...sold me one from a set that doesn't work! Yeah, that's right, folks. Let's give it up for bargain software websites!! (insert clap) In any case, Logitech, the customer service gurus, are going to send me a new one and told my father and I to keep this little web cam thing on the DL. I thought--what better way to make sure no one finds out than to publish it on my site!! Nifty, huh? I should add in here that I don't have a counter. I may get 500 hits a day. A thousand. Ha. I figure it's better not to know.
One nation under a groove! Gettin' down just foooor the funk of it. One nation and we're on the move. Nothing can stop us now.
So, I'm trying to change my site to Footlight MT Light. I had everything set on acaslon regular, which, in case you're interested, I did finally procure. In any case, now I have to change every page. This is the problem with content, you know? Big problem.
Have been visiting some pages today. Still looking for someone to host my blog so that I don't have to use blogspot.
It had to have been at least 105 degrees yesterday. I was dying at work. The stupid kids were so happy, running and falling and dying and tripping and whatnot. They're so happy, splashing about in the pools, and I walk, back and forth, back and forth, listening to their kiddie pop and trying not to memorize the words to "Irresistible" and whatever the new Britney Spears is called. The kids are really stupid, too. I mean, they're REALLY stupid. But the parents are worse. Much worse.
I was browsing my old site and saw a thing I meant to write but never did, but I guess I'll do it now: (Originally undone.)
My brother's name is Jeremy. Jeremy Kirk Lupin. Kirk. Kirk. What a funny middle name, right? Yeah. Want to know who my brother shares his name with? None other than Captain James Tiberius Kirk of Star Trek. (Just to insert--"Little Romeo" is extremely annoying.) Anyway, my brother shares his name with the famous captain because (Another insertation--the fans that know all the words to his songs are worse) my father is a big "trekkie." He is, however, the only one I know that would name his child after one of the characters. It's really sad. Really. Thank God I, his first born, did not receive the same treatment. My brother is rather ashamed of his name and I suspect he will change it eventually. It's kind of funny in the meantime. His initials are JKL anyway. Ha.
