1. Name your favorite T.V. show in middle school: simpsons
2. What is the best way to prepare potatoes? Mmm my mom makes these potatoes with mozzarella cheese on them for thanksgiving. Those kill me. mmmmm
3. Describe your eating habits towards meat? mmmmmm
4. Be honest : messy, neatnik, or just cluttered? Mm I am pretty neat a little.
5. Many friends, or a few close friends? A few close friends.
6. Did you do horrible things to your braincells as a teenager? They loved it !
7. Did your braincells do horrible things to you? I loved it too.
8. Beach or pool? ... beach I guess.
9. Sun or shade? Shade, unless I am trying to tan.
10. Favorite book now? “I Know This Much is True” – Wally Lamb
11. Favorite tv show now? simpsons
13. Strawberry or chocolate? chocolate
14. Do lollipops last long with you or are they gone in two chomps? You don’t bite, you suck. Hahahaha .
15. Wood or carpet? carpet
16. Does the prospect of mice severely limit your sleep? Uhh what a gay question. I would erase it but then I would have to fix all the numbers. Yeaaa right.
17. Is sleep just about the most important thing? Pretty much.
18. Green thumb or black thumb of death? Black thumb of death because I am the suicidal girl from my writing class.

Have you ever...
{x} Fallen for your best friend? yes
{x} Made out with JUST a friend? yes
{x} Been rejected? yes
{x} Been in love? yes
{x} Been in lust? I always am
{x} Used someone? I try not to, but everybody has people that your whole relationship is based on using each other. So yea.
{x} Been used? yea
{x} Cheated on someone? No.
{x} Been cheated on? Not to my knowledge.
{x} Done something you regret? Walked out of a show without talking to the guy I was checking out all night. But now I know not to do that.

Who was the last person...
{x} You touched? My mother
{x} You talked to? andrea
{x} You hugged? My mother
{x} You instant messaged? chippy
{x} You kissed? I guess c.j.
{x} You yelled at? Lauren jaramayo for hitting me today at lunch.
{x} You laughed with? andrea

Have you/are you/do you....
{x} Considered a life of crime? yes
{x} Considered being a hooker? yes
{x} Considered being a pimp? You mean am I ? haha
{x} Are you psycho? Not really
{x} Schizophrenic? Not really
{x} Obsessive? With boys, but not really.
{x} Obsessive compulsive? Haha, if one hand gets wet, I have to wet the other … and shit like that. Oh well.
{x} Anxiety? Everybody does
{x} Depressed? Everybody does
{x} Suicidal? Everybody thinks about it.
{x} Obsessed with hate? Uhh no unless you count that stupid all-talk-and-no-action suicidal girl from my writing class.
{x} Understanding: I try to be
{x} Open-minded: my mother tells me I’m not, but I try to be.
{x} Arrogant: I AM THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE. HELLO ?!!?!
{x} Insecure: everybody is.
{x} Interesting: uhh not really .
{x} Hungry: I just ate but I am going to eat some cake hopefully later unless that stupid cunt friend of my brother’s took the whole cake home. Stupid slut. Hahaha. I mean, fuck the fact that it’s her birthday. Share your cake, fatass.
{x} Friendly: maybe if I ever talked to anybody I would be.
{x} Smart: yes, I am very smart.
{x} Moody: all the time, it is so horrible. OH WELL.
{x} Childish: yea. Like way too much. Hahaha if your fingers are one key off, you type ;ole instead of like. OLE !
{x} Independent: once I start driving I will be.
{x} Hard working: in the right conditions
{x} Organized: a little … enough.
{x} Healthy: yea. Knock on wood.
{x} Emotionally Stable: yeaa right. I am so moody that emotionally stable would be impossible.
{x} Shy: not really
{x} Difficult: no, not really.
{x} Attractive: it is a matter of opinion and I would rather not put “no” and have everybody comment because everybody comments, even to the ugly people, and I do not want to put “yes” for obvious reasons.
{x} Bored Easily: not as much as andrea haha
{x} Responsible: if I need to be.

Currents
{x} Current Clothes: black dickies, black underwear with bows (hahahahaha I put” boys” … ) on it mm, my totally pushup bra from victoria’s secret, my see-through skin-colored shirt, and andrea’s see through yellow with white stripes shirt
{x} Current Mood: I am SO EXCITED !!!!!!!!!!
{x} Current Taste: chocolate …
{x} Current Hair: long and flowing haha
{x} Current Annoyance: tomorrow after school is so far away
{x} Current Smell: actually, none.
{x} Current thing you ought to be doing: shit checking my mail for jenn’s research paper.
{x} Current Desktop Picture: haha my family’s old school family portrait with my braces and really really fat face and I am like 12 but getting a new one is worthless because my family is not much of a family anymore.
{x} Current Favorite Group: sublime, maybe ?
{x} Current Book: “blood sugar” by Nicole Blackman
{x} Current DVD In Player: yea right. We just got a betamax. You think we have a DVD player ?
{x} Current Refreshment: water
{x} Current Worry: haha I’d rather not say but andrea knows, and so does that random guy from online that is like my new best friend … kyle ?
{x} Current Crush: hot hot hot hot travis.
{x} Current Favorite Celebrity: Claudio of Coheed and Cambria … and Giancarlo Aservi of Fallen From the Sky hahaha

Favorite...
{x} Food: chocolate
{x} Drink: I do not drink, but … water is good and non-alcoholic.
{x} Color: black … and no, I am not suicidal like that girl from writing . gnfdjgnsdfjd
{x} Shoes: mmmm my excellent etnies
{x} Candy: world’s finest chocolate
{x} Movie: bio-dome or fantastia :)
{x} Dance: wanna dance ?? yea ? wanna dance ???
{x} Vegetable: lettuce is a vegetable right ?
{x} Fruit: mangoes mmmm. If you ever want to seduce me, bring me mangoes and I am yours. Mangoes PLURAL. No cheapskates.

On Dating....
{x} Long or short hair? Short hair
{x} Dark or light hair? It doesn’t make a different. I kind of like dark hair more maybe ?
{x} Tall or short? Taller boys
{x} Mr. Sensitive or Mr. Funny? Mr. Funny, so I can be susan funny instead of susan civilized.
{x} Good boy or bad boy? bad boy. I am so tired of good boys.
{x} Dark or light eyes? Either way
{x} Hat or no hat? Mmm it depends on the guy
{x} Pierced or no? oh man, if you have your lip pierced, I would date you regardless of any other factors.
{x} Freckles or none? Eh. Whatever.
{x} Stubble or neatly shaved? stubble itches, but it looks cute.
{x} Rugged outdoorsy type or sporty type? Sk8tr boi … even though it is not a choice.

On preferences....
{x} Chocolate milk or hot chocolate? Hot chocolate
{x} McDonalds or Burger King? Burger king
{x} Marry the perfect lover or the perfect friend? Friend, even though they better be a good lover.
{x} Sweet or sour? sweet
{x} Root Beer or Dr. Pepper? Dr. pepper
{x} Sappy/action/comedy/horror? Comedy
{x} Cool Ranch or Nacho Cheese? Neither. Maybe nacho cheese.
{x} Mud or Jell-O wrestling? Jello is more delicious.
{x} With or without ice-cubes? Hahaha, cinnabon crew ? definitely ice cubes
{x} Shine or rain? rain
{x} Winter/Summer/Fall/Spring? winter
{x} Vanilla or Chocolate? chocolate
{x} Eyes open or closed? Closed
{x} Fly or breathe under water? fly
{x} Bunk-bed or waterbed? Waterbed
{x} Chewing gum or hard candy? gum
{x} Motor boat or sailboat? Motor boats
{x} Lights on or off? Uhh off
{x} Chicken or fish? Mmmmm

What's your favorite:
{x} Number? 420 hahaha I am so predictable
{x} Holiday? halloween
{x} Place? I like going to shows
{x} Flower? lilies
{x} Scent? Happy by clinique

???
{x} If you could be anywhere, where would you be? Lake Okeechobee with andrea
{x} What are you listening to? Trick daddy – I’m a thug
{x} Can you do anything freakish with your body? I can do that thing with my lips. That is it. No sexy maneuvers.
{x} Do you have a favorite animal, no matter how lame it may be? Mmm baby skunks.

i don’t know why i brought this up, especially with you. i doubt you’d understand anything about feelings, really, especially mine. you’ve gotten your hundred or so angst-filled poems, and smiled through every one of them, then come to me with open arms to apologize or cry with me and tell me it will be alright. but you never hugged me tight enough. there was always that persistent doubt, that unforgiving voice, telling me that the space between us was more than just a weak hug, and that it rivaled the oceans in its vastness and the sky in its infiniteness, and that one day we would be that distant. our bonds were so strong. how did they ever fall apart ? i guess i was mistaken when i thought that you loved me and that our feelings were mutual and that i saw love in your clear blue eyes with that everlasting sparkle. it was just me reflected ... my looking into a mirror, convincing myself that it was more than a one-sided thing. but mirrors are always one-sided (unless they are like trick mirrors. those mirrors own. rock.) and i still looked past that. i looked past a lot of things, and continue to. no matter how much i convince myself that i am stupid for thinking of you at all, and no matter how many sad poems i write to try and outdo the happy ones, you will always be the one i think of when somebody else’s lips brush mine. or when i remember how we used to stare in each other’s eyes and be content with just being there with each other, for hours and hours. i know i will never have that connection with anybody again, and that is when the longing hits me and i start to write incoherent ramblings pieced together with memories and fantasy. but it’s over, no matter how much i convince myself it’s not, or you lead me on. i wish i could tell everybody what i really thought. but then i’d have no friends except andrea. OH WELL ...

searing stars slipping silently
through a black velvet blanket

(angels with scorched wings)

burning through heads and hearts
knowingly but uncaring
disregarding the fallen and inflicted

(fiery demons, once beautiful, now beautifully dark)

corrupting the weak-willed
conquering the strong

(so strong but so helpless, painstakingly dangerous)

reflected in lovely sad eyes
of lovers scorned

(magnificent crimes, glorious flames)

breaking others, planned mistakes,
executed flawlessly, not unlike
these stars, flying through the night.

I explained to you how it was going to be.
You just laughed it off.
Don’t you get it ? We’re so different, this is impossible, and you don’t care.
You’re such an asshole ...

But you’re wonderful. My best friend. Didn’t I call you my best friend ?

You explained to me that this is what best friends do.
I just brushed it off.
But now I get it. I don’t know why, this is so contradictory, but you do care.
You’re my guardian angel.

You’re the only one who does care. Who hears the pain in my voice when I choke back tears and somehow wrestles it out of me until I am pouring out my heart in a flood of tears and tissues. And you just smile and tell me it will be alright.

And I know it will. Because I know
I
have
you.
And I know that even if I don’t have anybody else ... and I never do ... you are all I need.
And you will hang up with anybody else ... even if you know you will have to explain yourself later ... because that’s what best friends do.

I’m like “marry me”.

Cuándo miro afuera y veo la lluvia callendo, me recuerda de ese noche que salí a despedírte y nos paramos junto a tu caro, mojándonos sin que nos importara, sin pensar en nade mas que el momento en que estábamos. Esa fue una de nuestras últimas noches feliz, juntos, desesperadamente enamorados. Y cuando terminamos yo no pense que todavía estubiera pensándote. Pero asi pasan las cosas y no puedo dejar de pensarte, y no se si mirar al futuro o quedarme en el pasado con mis fotos y las llamadas que no te aféctan a ti pero me dejan temblando y lista para llorar. Entonces quemare tus fotos con tus memorias y mirare aver quien mas podre encontrar con quien enamorarme esta vez, porque aunque termine asi, no quiero vivir sin sentir otra vez lo que sentí por ti.

And she stared relentlessly at the blank screen and blinking cursor, closing her eyes periodically, thinking of him for inspiration, And nothing came. And the background noises offered nothing to write about, And she had nobody to write for. And as she typed the words “i hate you forever” over and over on the white screen, she knew she would. And he knew she would, And he said nothing. And he stepped away from her And her life And her heart And he would never again be her everything, And she cried. And she felt like she would never be anybody’s everything again, And she felt the crushing taste of defeat in her mouth. And she spit violently at him as he moved forward And she was held back, to get rid of his taste, And she never really would. And she looked at her watch And not even a minute had passed in this lifetime that had just occurred, And she wondered how long she would really feel like this, And how long it would feel like. And she wrote.

Dear Journal,
Today was such a crazy day. We rented Problem Child 2, Look Who's Talking 2, and another movie and watched them. We had pizza and went in the pool. Then I went home.

Dear Journal,
Today I called Ryan Hartman "dildo" and his dad sent me home. I don't even know what a dildo is, but some kid told me to say it. I asked my dad what it was. He told me to shut the fuck up.

Dear Journal,
Today in Ms. Chapman's class, Amanda Moskovich tried to take something from me, so I punched her in the face, and everyone in the class cheered for me. She is enormous. Everyone was happy. I was the hero. I slayed the beast.

Dear Journal,
Nicole Burke was drawing on the desk in Ms. Phoel's class. She is an ex-nun, but everybody calls her an ex-nazi. Nicole was drawing on the desk, and Ms. Phoel took her desk away and made her sit on the floor on a box, and she cried the whole time.

Dear Journal,
In Ms. Williams' class, I forgot to bring my snack to school. So when Christina Fama wasn't looking, I stole her apple from her desk. I took like three bites and then threw it in my desk so they couldn't find it. And it was so messy that nobody could look for it, but they knew it was me.

Dear Journal,
In Ms. Jones' class we had to make short plays, and I made one about Ren and Stimpy. She thought it was so disgusting that she had to stop me in the middle and make a huge speech about how disgusting it is. There was this one lady that was a recess counselor and we called her "Fat Pat". We told her "I have one word for you: Rogaine." because she was like balding.

Dear Journal,
In Ms. Chapman's class, we had to make these tanks and we put soil and bugs in them, and I had a snail in mine, and I couldn't see the snail on the inside, so I cracked open the shell. It was still inside and I killed it, and the teacher sat me in the corner and gave me a speech on how you couldn't kill living creatures. She was crying.

It was when they stopped noticing … or maybe caring … that it started. She would come home, her eyes tiny slits in her head, bloodshot and clouded so that you could barely tell the color, and walk in. One parent would not even leave their room, much less say hello, and the other would glance away from the television set for one second before dismissing her to the kitchen. It wasn’t long before she didn’t even leave the house to turn her eyes that shady grayish-green. Her absences were too many to document, and soon, teachers would mark her absent without even calling her name. And her boss grew tired of calling her house to tell her to pick up her last paycheck and drop off her uniform, and the shirt sat unused and unwashed in a corner of her room. As for her boyfriend … he probably didn’t even notice the empty gestures, as long as he was getting laid. One time he did give her his shoulder to cry on, but when she closed her eyes and muffled sobs against his shirt, he stared over her shoulder at the passing girls. Maybe he should have noticed that her eyes weren’t completely closed, and that she caught on to his emotionless hugs. And that she caught on to his looking at the passing girls, and that she knew it wasn’t the only thing he would do to some of them. The only thing that soothed her was to turn up her radio and drive to the lake, but when the drugs became more important than gas, she quit doing that, too. She stopped coming home some nights. They didn’t care. As long as she maintained her grades – which, with the help of a copy machine and a little bit of white-out, was no problem at all. Every two and a half months, she would straighten her hair, smile, and drop off her report card. And every other night, she would lie passed out on a stranger’s floor. When her parents received the phone call, they realized that was why her car had not moved in two weeks. The funeral was almost empty. She had nobody left. Once you become another statistic, you have lost everything.

*~as ironic as it is, it is painful for me to talk on the phone with you and listen to you laugh, because it sucks to not be able to see your smile. make me stop liking you so much, because i do not want to end up getting hurt. THIS IS CLEARLY AFFECTING MY WRITING SKILLS BECAUSE I FORGOT HOW TO WRITE WELL.~*

*~i am so happy, it is ridiculous. everything is great right now, and i am almost scared to say that because i know it will come back to haunt me later ... how did i ever score my beautiful boyfriend ? he > me by a billion ... but i will not say that ever again so that he does not catch on . on the other hand, okay. you won. are you happy ? you are more punk rock than i am, or was, or ever will be. that is all the closure i need, and hopefully all you need, so you can stop screwing me over. but i have a beautiful boyfriend now. a beautiful bouncing baby boyfriend, if you will. hahaha . and that is all that matters.~*

the driveway sits                

                                empty 

longingly

like my stare

and my hand

      ( slick with tears ) 

slides off

the door      ( still smelling of your kisses ) frame 

and i watch the 		driveways

and the passing cars

who drive right over

     ( my broken heart lying on ) 

the driveway.

and they			remind 

	me of times when 



you would hold my hand and

     ( understand what is wrong and )

i never planned on

you leaving		me

but that is what is wrong now.



and i am left alone

to console myself 

and dream			of

     ( your car always parked

     on the right and

     every night

     i will sit at my window 

     and miss )		 you.

*~i think if you actually call, i will tell the whole world. and not just because i tell everybody everything. but because i think it will be comforting to know that it is not just the beautiful ones who get everything. the chances, though, that i will actually be able to console those of us who are not so fortunate are slim, and i think i would be better off just forgetting about you before i run into you again, because then it will be easier to conceal my bloodshot eyes and tear-stained clothes. i don’t understand what i did wrong. and God, i wish somebody would just tell me, because i do it every time. i fuck things up, and i do not know how, or why, or if this is just some sign that i am not meant to fall in love, and should just stop trying. but i can’t stop trying, because all i want right now is to fall in love. and last night, somebody told me that i am full of shit, and they don’t think it will happen, and i realized that i put up with a lot of bullshit because i am so insecure and needy. i wish i could stop. gather some self-confidence and send those that put me down out of my life. but instead i take them in my arms and convince myself that they are just busy, or in a bad mood, or kidding around, and there is no need to give them a second chance because they never ruined their first one. but they have, and they will do it again, and i will put up with it again, and again, and again. and i can't breathe and my eyes are filling with tears and i have been walking around all day, waiting for them to spill over my cheeks, but they won't. they sit in my eyes, like a constant reminder that everything is wrong and nothing is right and i can't take it anymore. right now all i want to do is turn to you, look you in the eyes, and tell you how much i hate you, and see the hurt in your eyes. i want to see you feeling that pain, and i want to laugh. because, as sadistic as it is, i hate you more than anything. and the only comfort i could possibly obtain right now would be from seeing the pain in your eyes, and maybe the knife handle barely visible in your neck. i am just grateful that i learned the most dangerous places to stab somebody before i went through with anything.~* ... I do not know how I turned this journal so violently from one person to another. sorry. I will try to stick to the topic next time. Also, I am sorry I am joining the club of people with vicious journals. This is my only one, I swear. It just kind of came out.

*~i wanted you to kiss me ( i think you were going to ) but inadvertently, i turned away at the wrong ( right ?) moment. in a way, i’m kind of glad i did. it makes it that much more special. and when ( if ) we finally do kiss, it will be magnificent, exquisite, and perfect, and everything a movie kiss is, and a real life kiss should be. but we are not real ... this is a movie scenario, from the introduction on my arm, to the marriage that will go down if you pierce your lip ( twice ... it’s as if somebody researched on me to find out what i wanted and brought it to me all in one beautifully wrapped package ). i know i am not in love with you, but i also know i started to fall when your hug was the only thing holding me from collapsing because my knees were weak and i don’t know if you caught me staring at you ... but i hope i will catch you staring at me. if you don’t call, i don’t think i’ll cry. but you will call, because you promised, and in the movies, boys always keep their promises.~*

*~i couldn’t believe my luck today when i saw you walking on the other side of the room. i ran as fast as i could walk without being conspicuous and, as if on cue, you turned and smiled. the surprise almost kept me from responding, but i uttered out a “hi” and an offer which you accepted ... somewhat reluctantly, but interested enough. and the two minutes of conversation we shared (spent dodging reaching arms and annoying questions) was enough, i guess, to get you to promise to come back (to me) next time i am there. and i was thisclose to going to see you, with my lame shoebox excuse. i resisted, but hopefully you will not.~*