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| mudpiegrl (profile) wrote, on 12-2-2003 at 9:24pm | |
| Current mood: sick Music: voices in my head Subject: ::tear:: |
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| today was so bad. lets start with grades...fifty one in history, seventy three in algebra, and a D in spanish. how wonderful. but that im used to...if i werent trying so hard to get it up. but heres how my day started. i got up. i didnt want to take a shower so i fell back asleep for about a half hour. then i got up...shit need to print spanish outline. so i turn on comp...brush teeth...open it...get dressed...fuck no clothes...had to go searching...shit...printer downstairs...gotta get it there...so im thinking....mail..then...nah takes to long...so i run downstairs and turn on comp...open IM upstairs...open IM downstairs...direct connect upstairs...click ok downstairs...send from upstairs...copy into word downstairs...hmm...my throat hurts...oh well am just thirsty...its winter air is dry...tab all the spaces on word...click print...run upstairs to turn off internet...run downstairs to turn off aim...open fridge...ooh look crumpets...i like crumpets...never have them...put in toaster oven...click button...fuck. broken...look for toaster...fuck...threw that out last year...put away crumpets...hmm am hungry...glass of water...jen will be here soon...open pantry...grab oats and honey breakfast bars...eat...do hair...jens here...oh shit...i need my sketchbook...run upstairs...o yes, i brought it down...run downstairs, see gym clothes on way..hm...clean...eww...no chance taking...my says while running downstiars...get jens present....huh? its on the table...i look on kitchen table...where everything is. not there...fuck it...she comes down the stairs...im looking for my sketch now...i need it today so i can start painting...she starts yelling its fucking right here...lovely thing to hear in the morning...fine i dont have time for presents i have to get to school...i get in car. driving driving driving...good no traffic...then we get to continental and lakeview. fucking car in front of us wont turn left. several chances...fuckin turn already. jorie wants to tell jen why she cried last night...jorie cant. get to school...rush...we are late...walk in...hello jen and jorie...you are late...good thing frouny wasnt there...we would have had to go all the way back to the attendence office...latin class...not obnoxious as usual...but no fun. spanish...woo julio...i like the movie...but i was falling asleep...i was too tired. "four people are losing points because they arent watching the movie" wake up. i force myself. after spanish. no neil. no jill. no spencer. jackie and adleman and wavy. i leave. amanda and i work together on documents shit...i cant remember waht i read...i make up answers. gym. no gym clothes. am super late. i went to the lst. i want to talk to miss pither. i want to sleep. i want to leave. anything but be here. i love school. but today i hate it. she wasnt there. i was sad. i left her a note. "i need to talk." i go to gym. i take my sketchbook. i should start redrawing my painting so that i can paint eighth. "walk and talk girls, no sitting" says williamson. i stand while they play basketball. i cant play. i dont feel well. my throat hurts. water hasnt helped. my head hurts too. i get loads done for standing. fifth period. i ate. am sorry to jen. i ate with her money. i owe her so much. i was hungry tho. i had a fucking bar for breakfast. i ate a pretzel. we visited the navy guy. he was nice. we signed mrs. koltons card. she had surgery. the current nurse is a bitch. we want kolton back. then to algebra. quiz. easier than i thought. i actually could do hte problems. i dont understand this chapter. i thought it would be worse. but it wasnt so. mail came. purple pass. for me. miss pither says to go see her eighth. art. the only subject i am looking forward to. lit wasnt awful. finished watching the crucible. i liked it. the whole movie. and the end. stupid girl. only thinking baout herself. let the people you once loved die because you cannot have your man. to eighth. or rather, miss pither. i see neil. his hug feels so good. i walk to the office. i begin to explain to her. i cry again. the tears keep rushing. i try to force myself to not cry. but they come. i cant see the blocks that am playing with. they have words on them. "i love..." what do i love? "dreaming"...."and" and what? waht do i love? i love my friends. that isnt an option. "therefore please" please what? waht could i love so much that i must pleed someoen to do something for me? "trust: do i love trust? or do i wish it upon myself? i wish it. do trust me. there are eight blocks. "i love dreaming and screaming therefore please trust" no..that isnt right. i change "screaming" to "everything"...but i dont love everything. that isnt right either. miss pither is talking. i have been talking...she talks now...its hard to pay attention. shes talking about my mum drinking again. how im independent and how i need people to define my happiness. "it all goes back to coming from an alcoholic family" i dont know. maybe so. "of" it finally makes sense. "i love dreaming of everything, therefore, please trust." trust what? trust me...i will get there...i am here for you? trust me...because i have nothing else to give. because if you trust me, then i will tell you what i dream up, the metaphors. i will do my best to help you. and thast all i have. "you have fifteen minutes left, do you want to go back to art" sure i say. why not. at least i can show her my sketch. matt cant figure what he wants to do out...then hes got it sketched. its beautiful. she loves it. leeza is already painting. "im putting on the wash" shes the only one painting. i show the teacher my sketch. its not surreal enough. "what wouldnt normally be in a bowl. you eat rice...whats something you dont eat" i want the rice. its the only thing that defines my culture. once i remove the rice. it is a bowl with soemthing in it. a bowl with a bamboo stick and calligraphy brush. a bowl made out of smoke sitting on a puddle of water. with a bottle of ink. there is no culture in that. the rice suggests asian. but no matter. what do i know about surrealism? schools over. auditions. we walk to the car to move it closer. jen wants food. she doesnt. she does. "lets just go in" i say "if you want some later, well get soem" we go in. lestina speech. short, surprisingly. girls in choir room. boys stay for dance. we want to hear them sing. "can we watch?" yes, be quiet. they sing. sandy did amazing. so did shaina. woodstock did a nice job. so did chelsea. but thats all i could hear. my head hurts. so does jens. shes okie tho. to dancing. the boys dance. its funny. matt can dance. yay sandy. my throat really hurts now. the girls start. they learn. sandy has trouble at first. but she learns. she laughs when she messes up. good job sandy. theyve learned it. "lets get food" says jen. okie. we get cookies and popcorn. good popcorn. wafer cookies. sneak the cookies in the theatre. "food and drink are prohibited in the theatre" i want water. my throat hurts. sandy is good. so are a few others. she looks like shes having fun. thats good. jen wants to leave. ok i say. im dont here. she didn do any homework. theres a game tonight. its cold. i come home. project with jackie on mind. i forget. dad is home. hello. i want to sleep. my head hurts. i am hungry. bars, pretzel, popcorn, cookies, poptart, milk. i added two more things to my food. online again. jill has responded. she wasnt in school today. she tells me to back off. i am making it worse. jackie says to stop. just be here. i am here. im always here. jill has already said she doesnt want to tell me. thats fine. i dont care if she tells me. i want to know if she is mad at me. she still hasnt answered it. i reply. bickering. bitter. she doesnt understand. i dont want her problems dumped on me. i want to know if ive lost her or not. neil was here. hell tell you. dad says be careful. of what? i guess. mum. i call jackie. project. tomorrow she says. my dad is getting poster board. i will put the pictures on. i hang up. i dont talk on the phone anymore. that died with our friendship. she reminded me to get the grade sheet signed. i get it from my bag. mum, will you sign this. she takes it out to the garage. whats wrong mum? petra was here. youre clothes were on the floor. youre dad is pissing me off. oh. dont get too upset. inside i go. she slams door wehn she comes in. "im not signing this. have your dad sign it" it has a D on it. i only missed two assignments. one was first quarter grade sheet. i thought it was worth two points. dad signs it. i am tearing. she woudlnt sign it. im trying this year. my throat relaly hurts. i get a vitamin c logenze. dad suggests he talk to the teacher. no. i am not a kindergartener. i am sitting. sandy did a good job i tell everyone. i think shes made it. i tell her too. breakfast? they ask. spencer. its been so long. hul. i miss him. i talk to someone i used to talk to. someone on yahoo. i downloaded it. he is sweet. hes engaged. hes eighteen. i type in journal. it gets lost. i comment. they are slow. milton is still there. yay. ayaemberlight is nice. H2O responds a lot. angel bob is funny. i like them. they make me smile when the day has been bad. dad was yelling. mum thought i was in bed. my ears hurt too. a headcold? my head is warm. my tempature says 96.6. thats bad. i plan to go to bed. jens at a game. neils at jazz. tomorrow ill go to breakfast. and then to school. late start. gnight. | |
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AyaEmberlight | 12-03-03 8:42pm Oro?! .___. Man... I'm sorry... -huggles you- Feel better... I hope everything goes well (even though, this comment might not work) Your nice too! =D!
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mudpiegrl | Re:, 12-03-03 9:12pm ::smiles::lol...jen was a cheerrioo for halloween...lol...thats how she spells it...well sort of...lol you make me laugh... |
Anonymous | Re:, 12-03-03 9:50pm you are awsome just cuz you know how to spell cheerrioo! |
fanta5y | 12-07-03 9:45am Whoa.. I'm sorry you had such a bad day. I hope things start to look up for you. =) |