name: amber
age: 22
location: new orleans
aim: sapgirly mail work
December 30, 2002
Speaking of Chris, I was bored last night and going through some of my old stuff when I come across all these letters that he and I exchanged (and didn't exchange) while we were going through the I-like-you-do-you-like-me thing. And I realized, as I read these horribly embarassing letters that just basically crushed him (I mean, it must have), that I'm exactly the same person I was five years ago. Listen to this shit:
"...I'm used to writing these letters telling people how I love them, or put deep 'Amber's gone over the edge' thoughts in them...but this one is just for reflection. Just makes you think. In this letter I wrote to you (that was four months previous), I said 'I wish things would just stay the same.' Even though I didn't like you, you'd be surprised how deeply I felt for you. I often ask myself why I thought the world was ending on the 'ides of March' and I just don't know.
"People (if I ever told anyone) would probably say I flet like I was losing you, but I dunno. Maybe that is how I felt and things did change. We stopped talking so much. I stopped caring so much and look at us now. I thought we were so tight but I suppose last come, first go? Maybe you couldn't have me around because you felt for me, too. But maybe I'm just wishing. It just always seems like I'm wasting so much emotion all the time on people who don't care."
(and then in my PS:) "...I sit here upon reading what I just wrote and I realize I completely forgot to tell you how much you hurt me. Becuase how much I liked you before turned to dislike after. I felt you were purposely denying me your friendship and the good feeling I got from loving you."
Listen to me! I thought I was so cool. I thought I knew what I was talking about. The thing that scares me, though, is that I haven't learned a goddamn thing since I wrote this. I still trample all over peoples' hearts and not even care. I thought there was this whole involved thing going on within myself over the whole Chris ordeal but really, I just wasn't physically attracted to him. It's such a simple, ordinary, plain detail but it's such a compelling reason. I can be so nostalgic.
Kelly is one of my best friends but she won't call me unless I call her. "Oh AMBER! We have to hang out TODAY!" She's just about the only person I don't get frumpy with: "Well, if she isn't going to call me then I guess we won't hang out." Nah, Kelly actually is busy. She's always been my busiest friend.
So I was telling her yet again that she couldn't complain about the husband thing because she's going to marry Chris Lafargue when it dawned on me that I run through boys like a hot knife through butter. "Oh," I said to her, "to Chris I'm just some girl he had a crush on for five minutes in the eighth grade." Then I paused a beat. "Man, I've been doing this to guys for years." Maybe my history of going bog-wild over guys I "like" is really punishment for my complete unwillingness to try out someone I'm not attracted to. It all kind of started with Chris. But then again, how could it possibly be punishment? I had a crush on the same guy for six years in elementary school. I didn't deserve that even a little bit. I was so fresh.
Another Christmas down. Somehow, even though there's chiopino, without Grampa and Grandma Bea it's not really Christmas. And no Robideaux house. That's a big deal. Christmas seems such an afterthought these years. It used to be a big thing with every one of our family members and Aunt Sherrie's family and my own father all in a big house that my mother grew up in. That was Christmas. This is just a bunch of people thrown into a teeny house with a seafood stew. There wasn't even any pie. Why are the holidays so depressing? (And does anyone want to invite me to their New Year's Party? Don't make me hang out with my brother, please.)
Of course, though, I'm not going to San Diego. My father just kills me. (And I could just kill my stepmother.) Of course she finds it insulting that I'm staying in a hotel but I have found it insulting to stay at her house in the past. I'm not willing to put myself in that situation.
In oral news, I have five cavities in my mouth that need to be filled whereas before going to the dentist this morning, I had none. It was very nice being able to say, "I have not a single cavity in my mouth" and now I must fess up to quite a few more than that.
I continue to miss school and my people and my room. There's really so little for me here. Grr grr grr. I want to be back home. I have so much more fun there. ::sigh:: Christmas, here I come.
Oh-so-bored. What did I do when I lived here before? Did I read? Did I sleep? How did I manage not to teach myself the piano? I should hop right on that shit and be a regular Chopin by the time this break is over. Then again, I'll probably just watch TV and nap on the couch. I can't wait to get out of this town.
So, of course, my dad's pulling stupid bullshit about me coming down there. Actually, it's his fucking wife, of course. I was so excited to see everybody and hang out with my friends. I didn't know how I was going to pack them all into three or four days and now it looks like I probably won't have to. (Actually, while I was typing that, my father IM'ed me to tell me that my uncle will pay for my hotel which I hate but will take over not going at all. In fact, I could hardly believe myself: my dad called this morning to tell me that Eleida, my stepmother, had said that he could not pay for the hotel. He then proceeded to offer me $250 dollars to stay with them. And I turned him down. $250 dollars is more money than I have in my bank account right now -- I would double my financial worth. But I said no. I have such resolve. Sometimes I even surprise myself.)
In now other news, though, yay, I get to go to San Diego after all and see my freaking family! It's been a while for all of them -- I haven't seen my little half-brother Leonard in ages. I'm most excited to see my school friends, though: Alex, Lauren (maybe Lily and possibly Oscar). Ahh, I can't wait! I'm actually excited. Uncle Lou always comes through. I owe that guy so much.
And PS -- I'm back in the 'Och. Looks exactly the way I left it this time. The next time I'm back here will be summer. Rock right the fuck on.
Ah, Christ. Why do I insist on running my mouth about boys every time I get drunk? What happened to not kissing and telling? Fuck, two things I deal with each and every time I get drunk:
1. Boys.
2. Smelling like a bar in the morning.
Even if I felt like sleeping in, I couldn't possibly because I roll over and smell my hair and am compelled to get up and into the shower. I'm so good at making an ass of myself and have to apologize for it in the morning. (By the way, how much of a fucking nerd am I, posting at 4 in the morning, drunk off my ass? Computer dork to the max. And HEY, I posted at exactly 4:00 am. That's cool.)
I've got these guys coming out my fucking EARS! Ms. Vail was goddamned right after all. (PS -- I'm completely not sober right now. Beats the shit out of my how I'm typing all these words correctly. I'll fix any spelling errors in the morning. I smell like the goddamned Boot.) ::sigh:: And in all of it -- after everything and everyone and all this flirting and kissing and hugging and everything, I still think I deserved Javier. How dare the City let me know he's out there? Fuck The City. I'm going back to the Yoch.
Okay, so that was weird. But I'm not in a position to care. I mean, it's not my problem and I don't have to do anything about it so I'll just let it slide for as long as possible.
As a side note that's not that side, there's nothing wrong with making out and whatnot with people if you don't have someone to regularly hold you. Human touch is a biological necessity. Babies that aren't touched when they're first born don't grow as fast and don't develop the same amount of brain connections as babies that are held. It's the same with adults -- people that have loving, affectionate relationships live longer than those that don't. It's a statistical fact. So I'm not going to worry about it. I'm not going to worry about Friday, especially because there's nothing to worry about and I'm not going to worry about just now because it's not a big deal and I'm not getting hurt. As long as I'm not getting hurt, everything's fine. (Goin' back to Antioch in two days. Apparently, Tuesday's going to be a big party. Hoo-ray. And Cheesecake Bistro Wednesday and Rosie drivin' us to the airport. Life can't get much better. Wait, sure it could. But it could be a shit of a lot worse. Rock on.)
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'Nother thing:
I was thinking today that the reason I haven't had many romantic interests is that what I'm looking for isn't the average person. The average person doesn't have what I want. So I can't possibly expect to have many relationships in my life because what I'm looking for is so out-of-the-ordinary. I'm looking for someone a little more like myself, a little more eclectic. Not that I have this notion that I'm so strange or out-there, but I'd like to think the things I want are different than a lot of other peoples', or at least, my outlook is different, or, at the very least, I'm normally completely frank about my feelings.
For whatever reason, I decided to type up my current playlist here.
Study break:
Right now, I'm sitting in the kitchen on my floor because it's a lot nicer to study here than in the lounge or (heaven forbid) the library. Problem is, I have a lovely view of the city's skyline right now, which I often talk to as though that were my connection with God or, more like what I really feel, the energy of the universe or fate or whatever. I talk to the City as though it's my friend and worst enemy: "Don't fuck with me, City," or "Please, please, please let this work out." I thank it for good things and curse it for bad. Normally at night, though. It's strange to see it during the day, as though part of it has been stripped and there's something new to behold. Christ, this stupid bio is driving me nutty.
Eventually all this stupid bullshit is going to catch up with me. I am making pre New Year's resolutions:
1. I will not spaz out, especially about boys. It doesn't matter; it doesn't matter; it doesn't matter. Despite the name of the website, doesn't matter. Doesn't matter even a little bit.
2. I will not kiss and tell.
I have been doing fairly well with both of these and I am not deterred by the fact that I resolved them yesterday. Is it bad to promptly go out and kiss someone mainly because you want to have kissed someone and have the ability to tell or not and then not to? Is that even proper English? Should I be studying for chem and bio right now? (Of course.)
Now that's the kind of drunken hookup I should have been having all along -- the kind that doesn't matter. The kind where I don't give a good goddamn whether or not he calls tomorrow. The kind where I would rather he not call because I don't give a fuck what he thinks about what just happened. The kind where I hope he continues to think "it doesn't count" because he's too cool for me and I know it and I'll just leave it at that. The kind that has nothing to do with my heart. Thank the good Lord I still have the ability to get piss-ass drunk.
It seems there should be something inherently wrong with taking pride in the fact that I have survived this long. I was looking at a website I check every day to see if it's been updated and it hasn't in a month and I thought, "wow, I've been living the whole time since that was published." Like, I didn't jump out in front of a moving car or throw myself into the Mississippi or anything. I lived right on through everything between then and now. And come to think of it, there's been plenty of good and obviously enough to outweigh the bad.
According to Lauren's witchcraft book I was reading yesterday, the reason people stay alive is because they have found meaning in their lives and when someone fails to find meaning, that's when they take their own life. I think meaning has a lot less to do with it than hope. I think when you've given up hope, that's when you die. Thing is -- why keep on living if it's mostly bad? As long as the good outweighs the bad then life's worth it. However, there are always times in our lives when the bad is going to outweigh the good -- someone we know dies or we get in a funk or a harsh breakup or whatever -- but that's where hope comes in. Hope tells us that it's going to get better. Without hope, you'd just fade away. You'd fall into your own misery.
For those of you following my oh-so-exciting life, you should be happy for me that my psych final went fabulously. Actually, I found out when I attended class that I needn't have shown up at all seeing as I got an 84, 100 and 98 on the other three tests and we drop one.
I sucked it up and wrote Javier because I have nothing to lose. It's a good place to be, sometimes, nothing to lose. It doesn't affect you. That's why breaking up hurts so much because you're with somebody and you have everything to lose. You have love to lose and losing it hurts but you trust and that's where things go astray. Not that there's a fundamental problem with trusting someone but so often, you trust blindly and then you get dumped and then you cry and then you move on. I'm incredibly surprised I'm not more bitter than I am. This way I am about guys, all guys, any guy that shows even slight romantic interest in me -- I've always been this way. It's good to know you can return to a previous state -- that one person can't affect you in such a way that your whole life is different. No. It's almost as though I've cut senior prom to the first month of college right out of my memory, out of what I consider makes up my personality. I just ripped it out and threw it away. So I went straight from May to September, wha-bam.
Go to the octopus rock video here. It's really creepy but it actually sounds pretty good.
A lot of people do well under stress. I just give up. I have my psych final in 40 minutes and instead of studying, I'm writing this. Okay, so I feel mildly prepared but if I don't get an A, I don't get an A in the class. Sucks but that's the way it is. I have every intention of telling my psych teacher that I think he's a good person. I wonder what that's like to hear. I wish I could give him a hug. He seems so lonely and sad. He's always talking about his dog and giving us his home phone numbers. I could cry for him. (I should note here that I never cry. I tried to cry last night and completely failed. I even watched Romeo and Juliet because it's so sad but did I shed a tear? No. Instead I participated in mildly stalker-ish activities because I'm a freak and lonely. My point, though, is that I can't cry and it's really distressing.)
I'm so jacked-up in my abilities to bring happiness to myself. All it takes is a little attention from a guy to cheer me up. I should have a lot more guys friends. I should have good guy friends. I literally need them. So I'm kind of giving up on him now.
My first final is tonight at six -- psych. I'm half-studying. I really am not that sad anymore but it's only because I had a two-hour conversation with Ted last night. That's really all it takes to turn my frown upside down. Well, not really. That's all it takes to get my mind off stupid boys is to talk to less stupid boys. I just don't really understand what happened here. Then again, I know it's for the best but it really kills me. My better judgement tells me to just forget about it but I'm still holding out hope. ::sigh:: I will never be normal. I'm just going to be a big freak and wander around lonely and depressed the rest of my life. I only get to keep guys for two days. Just two and then they're gone.
At this point I'm completely depressed. We had a really good time together and as much as I told myself, "don't like this guy" I ended up really liking him and now it's obvious I should have followed my own advise because my phone has not rung. I can't hardly stand it. One more time and I'll consider this a curse and definite proof that I'm going to spend the rest of my life a lonely haggard wench. ::sigh:: I'm going to go cry now.
If he doesn't call, I'm going to assume he's dead. I'll never figure out guys. Never. I'll just wander around completely hopeless for the rest of my life.
But of course, I never follow my own advise. There's this tiny part of me that's reasonable and the rest just goes out the window and flies off wherever it wants, constantly.
The first thing I thought when I kissed him yesterday was that his lips feel like mine. So I say to myself, "Amber, it doesn't do any good to like this guy. I mean...know it and live it. Don't mess up another sweet little boy."
I don't normally skip a day.
Went to The Hangar last night -- everything was free: entry, drinks. It was almost impossible to get anything so you walked away with two. If you were going to make it to the bar, you had to make it to the bar. I felt like such a drunk, double-fisting it but I saw quite a few people triple-fisting it, so I'm not worried. Sometimes, it's nice just to hang out with people I already know and not worry about stupid shit like trying to hook up or flirt or any of that business. I mean, always, if you get enough drinks in me, I'm sociable and sweet and funny and uninhibited (maybe it's just an excuse). When I'm tipsy, I can meet new people and be engaging... but sometimes it's nice just to chill with people you go home with anyway. I love the kids on my floor. I don't know how I missed it in the past.
I'm going to my hall's open mic night in a few minutes. I haven't made up my mind whether or not I'm going to read -- pretty much I will if and only if there's no one there that I would get embarassed in front of. I have to look cool for certain people, you know? If I was to read, I would read "round" (It's on my work page). I always read this poem with an accent (sugah) and I say some parts very quickly and others slowly. I guess you really can't appreciate some works unless you hear it by author. At least, I don't think "round" is expressed very accurately with just typed words.
Tonight is starts the 7th day of Hanukkah. It is almost over and I wouldn't hardly have told you it had begun. No jelly doughnuts at today's Hanukkah Fest -- only Krispy Kreme. What is Judaism coming to?
Oh, and check this out.
This happens to me every day. When I get back from Spanish at 3, I sit down in my computer, check if anyone's sent me a message (today, yes) and after I've dealt with any remaining matters (an unfinished game of Spider Solitaire), this slump comes over me. What now? What is everybody else doing with their afternoons? So often I spend mine tooling around the computer, reading or watching television. Is everyone else doing homework? I never have homework.
And I thought as I walked into the room, "what happened to my good mood?" I answered my own question. I saw Ben. And as much as I have completely given up on him calling me and feel ridiculous for holding out hope for so long, it still ticks me off to see him because, goddamnit, he should have called me.
Sixth night tonight! It continues to be Hanukkah and I could definitely use some "festival of lights" action today.
This really Jewish guy kind of hit on me today. I felt ...sacrilegious. I mean, I can go to the little Hanukkah things and light the candles and sing the prayers because I still remember them but I would be considered an athiest by many. But it's cool to be hit on in any case, even if I only imagined it.
And I played Driedel today. That was cool. I haven't played in years. Makes me want to go to services on a regular basis. Maybe I'll drag Lauren on Friday. I suddenly love Hanukkah. Maybe it makes me feel a part of something. In any case, I'm Jewish and you're not nah nah nah nah.
Once there was a girl named Amber and she had all these thoughts inside her head. Some were good and some were bad. One day, she started flinging them out from her -- just throwing them at the world and making people pay attention. She wrenched their heads so that they had to look into her eyes and she told them everything. She stripped down naked and made them look at her. Even when they wanted to look away, she made them look and pointed only to the parts of her with scars. She pretended they were wounds. She made the people cry for her. She took their hands and placed them upon her and tried to feel love through their palms. When she saw that they wanted to pull away, she let them and fell down, weeping. When she went to stand up again, she felt not of her own body. She had given so much away that she had nothing left to stand upon. She had given everything away. "Nothing can hurt me anymore," she said. "No one can touch me." But it wasn't true, she knew. Cold now, and lonely, she held herself and cursed. "I don't need any of this," she cried. "I am so strong now. I am so strong."
The sidebar there is irritating me. What should I do with it? Suggestions? (Is that any better?)
I'm happy to be back but I always have to take that with a grain of salt. I've been down here a lot. Not just about one particular thing but about everything -- all these people I don't know and everybody I do and how sometimes I feel left out of things. It's probably because I'm not very outgoing at least, not until I've had a couple drinks. "I'ma clean up this town!"
So I kind of...changed the layout. I'm definitely into simplicity as far as these web-design things go. My original idea for this bad boy was to have the screen be an off-magenta colour but I think this works better. I like the brown. And check out my new script. Isn't it cool? I love theft.
So glad to be home. I'm going to bed now, though (early). Christ, I don't want to start school again.
Here's a couple pictures I took because I'm all makeup-ed out tonight. I have to show you my new red sometime. I'll take better (and less blurry) pictures later on when it's sunny. It's either use the flash or have blurry pictures. I'll take blurry. False light is so irritating. Also -- it's December. How did that happen?
Also, Maddie's dad took me out to Emeril's tonight which was fabulous. We spent $200 on food and had a blast. When I'm rich, I'm definitely eating at nice restaurants on a regular basis. Mmm, my second time with duck. Yummy.
And one more thing -- I love how stuff that used to instantly remind me of Joey takes me a beat now. The first song we danced to came on at The Boot tonight and it got quite a ways through before I thought "hey, that's the first song we danced to." Moreover, I was reading a bunch of letters I wrote to myself today (I brought all my old journals back with me) and I had these huge crushes on these guys and I don't hardly ever think of them. Soon Joey will just be some fleeting memory. He'll disappear just like Andrew (it took me a good ten seconds to remember his name), Josh, Chris, ...and all those others. Thank God. I cannot wait to fucking move the hell on.
