Hooplah.Org

A lot has happened over the past few days. Nothing really productive, because everything that would be good, is weighted out with a bad.

All this week I’ve been job hunting. On Wednesday, my mother actually took me into Fredericksburg, the closest town, to look for jobs. When before she had kicked and screamed and had a fit about me wanting to work there, which is 20 miles away from home. I got an interview at Hechts (a fancy department store). They made me wait like in a doctor’s office, then I was escorted into a tiny room, and he spent 20 minutes drilling me with questions. I knew I did bad, and he gave me a “we’ll call you” response. For some reason, at the time it didn’t connect that he was just saying that because he didn’t want to hire me. Oh well. I knew sitting in the waiting room for him that I didn’t want to work there. I would eventually go off on some snobby shopper. I don’t take shit well.

Anyway. Me and my friend Stephen went into Food Lion, which is right across from the area we both live in, to apply for a job. We had called ahead, many times actually, to get an arrangement so the manager would be there to interview us (since she usually didn’t stay past 4 PM.) All we did was go over to the office, handed in our applications, stood around near the office for a while, and then a woman came out, still looking over the applications. She just went over the hours, for both me and Stephen, right then and there. It was all totally casual. Then she said to come back on Sunday at 5 to do the paper work. So… I am assuming that I am now a Food Lion employee. Kick ass.

But, as I said before, for every good, there is a bad. It turns out that Alan can not take the college courses he wanted, so he is coming down. And that is a bad time to start work, for not only will I be in school, I’ll have to work too. I have planned to ask to work my regular hours the first week after I complete my training, and then either have that one week off, or have weekends free and work only maybe 2 days that week, or start me working someday past the 12th (which is when Alan will be leaving.) Either that, or they can just fire me or something. It would be pointless to have Alan come all the way down here and me to never be home. When my father heard about this today, he had a total bitch about it. He seems to think that a job is more important than a social life. When you have to have the job to support yourself, yes, your social life would take back seat. Right now, I don’t really need the job. It will probably ruin the good grades I have in school in the long run. He’s such as ass.

As I’ve mentioned, Alan is coming down. This didn’t seem to have any flaws at first. We worked out the dates right and everything, and it was all set to go. I got an e-mail from Alan about the place tickets. But there was one problem. He got the tickets for the wrong airport. I knew this would not go over well with my parents. At all. They had enough bitch about having to go to Reagan National Airport. They don’t like doing any more then they have to. I frantically called Alan, just when he was walking out the door. He said they were non refundable. Of course. It was not Alan’s fault; it’s a simple mistake. Anyone could have made it. But my parents seem to see it in a different light.

My father is busy, so he will not be able to pick Alan up. I was actually glad of that, because he gets all pissed off about everything, especially about getting lost. And he has the attitude that everyone else is incompetent of thinking, saying that it was just one more thing for him to worry about. That my mother couldn’t find her way there. I thought she could, so as soon as she got home, I sprang the idea on her. Which, in turn, was followed by a lot of “I can’t drive there!” or “We’ll have to find a shuttle from there to Fredericksburg.” That last one was not only unreasonable, and probably doesn’t exist, but it was the first time I have ever heard her say anything without thinking ahead about $$.

I had to hunt down a map, because when I asked anyone else in the house, they snapped at me to leave it alone, that they didn’t want to fool with it now, or that they would worry about it themselves. But when I did find the map, I noticed that Dulles Airport is still in Virginia, and would probably be a lot easier to get into, since it’s not in the crowded area of DC. This is pretty much out in the middle of no where. And when you consider traffic, it’s closer as well. I don’t understand why everyone had to have a bitch about it.

Hmm. I’ve written a whole lot about nothing. And I don’t feel better having said it. Damnit. That sucks.

Anyway. On to better topics. A lot of people who have been reading this journal (gasp! they do exist!) have sent their “I hope everything works out”‘s, and their opinions on me and Alan’s relationship. I really appreciate it all. Surprisingly enough, total strangers seem to care more than my actual friends at school. Me and Alan have talked everything out.

Over the past few days, I only have been writing journal entries when something effected me emotionally, and usually also dealt with Alan. Maybe it was because I was going though a depressed stage. Whatever it was, at the time, I wasn’t really caring what I made Alan out to be. He is not what he seems. I am one of those people who need 24/7 care… I don’t like being felt like I’m being left behind, and it only takes a quick glance away from me for me to start thinking that that is what will happen. Alan knows that all to well now. The past week we’ve kept communication up, and I feel better doing that… That way I know if he isn’t on when I think he will be on, I won’t jump to the conclusion that he’s dead in a ditch somewhere. Or something like that.

Now that I’ve been accepted to shaken.org, the pressure is on for me to create a new layout. I’ve been trying, trying, to think of a new layout to match this one. I’m not sure if I am going to be able to do it. But I will try my hardest. To do it fast, even. I have to anyway, because the 30 day trial on the flash program I have is slipping away fast. I haven’t even finished the tutorial

One final little note. I finally ordered my class ring. Hopefully they will be quick at make it so I can pick it up. Everyone already has their class ring… I forgot the first time around. The first (and probably only) time my parents have said “You must have this, and we will pay for it, no matter what the cost.) Neat, huh?

I really hate sitting here all evening, playing sappy music from the “City of Angels” sound track, while crying. I really hate it. But what else am I supposed to do? I feel so distant from the one I love, so very d i s t a n t, and I am desperate to talk to them. So I wait. Having my heart skip a beat when my stupid “buddy in” sound plays, which then leads to maximum disappointment that it’s not even one of my good friends. I watch TV, I play Free Cell… I’ve repeatable asked him to tell me if he’s not going to be here to talk, because I cancel things with my friends, I sacrifice my homework, for this. Because that is what I do. One would probably eventually get annoyed with someone continuously challenging how much they love them. But when you’re not given much room to think otherwise, then what?

The past month has been ruff; with close calls for breaking up, and we’re talking less… and less… It terrifies me. I feel like I can’t talk to him about anything anymore. None of my feelings. Because they always make him upset, or I make him feel bad. And it becomes my fault. I feel like everything is on thin ice, and anything I say with any emotion behind it could make it crack and break my heart.

I cannot take having my heart broken again. I barley survived the first one. I nearly destroyed myself. I can’t take the pain in my chest, or hot tears for hours.

I could easily be over reacting. It’s common knowledge I do that a lot. But I don’t care; right now, this is what I am feeling. Right now. And regardless if I am right or wrong, is it really fair to have room to think of it at all?

I’ve also noticed over the past month (and actually, in a way I new all along) that I am prone to being unhappy. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because when I was growing up I was always the separate one in a corner somewhere. Maybe I am so paranoid now because I could never fully trust when I was younger. I was made promises that were not kept. Promises that meant so much to me, things that I wanted to badly. And it was always especially the ones I loved that I could not trust. A puppy can only be kicked so many times until it learns not to come back.

On a… happy… note, I am learning how to do flash. The next version of my web pages will include it. Which also means I will probably have to change my address, since Freespeech.org is anal and won’t allow it’s users to have any files other than the bare necessities; it’s against their stupid Terms of Service. I went looking though my guestbook, and found the entry I was looking for: shaken.org offered to host me way back in July. I went to their site, and lucky me, she was accepting 3 new hostees, so I filled out the form.

Anyway… Back to flash. I downloaded a 30 trial program by macromedia. To get a registered version, it is $269. Hmm. Now I need a job, because I know my cheap ass parents won’t even go 1/2 with me on it.

Oh, that reminds me. Dollar General only accepts people over 18 to work there. Well, at least the one here does. Now, what the fuck could they possibly sell so that a 16 year old cannot work there? Assholes.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been telling everyone about Alan coming down for October. Though I didn’t really mean it for a lot of people, I told them all “When he comes down here you can meet him.” Alan told me the other day that a college there on Fort Knox has been offering an accredited A+ and MCSE class. Wow. If he took those he could be “set for life.” The informational meeting for them is going to be tomorrow. If he decides to do it, he’ll start October 2. Around the same time we had planned/hoped he would be able to come down. Peachy. I can’t tell him he can’t. It would solve all of this “I’m going to be living out of a car” fears, because he could get any job he wanted. Him coming down seems so small compared to that. But I still would be very disappointed… I was really looking forward to it. A lot.

I’ll be damned — two journal entries in a row. Isn’t that special. I probably wouldn’t be writing this if I had school tomorrow, but thanks to hurricane Floid, I don’t. They actually announced it just before I left school today, while our principle was doing afternoon announcements. She had said that we might not be there tomorrow, just might, then said a few more things, and ended the announcements. Then she came back on and said she just got the call in. As soon as she announced it, my whole class went in an uproar; My principle said “I can hear you all cheering.” Heh.

I turned in my 90-day permit and I got my actual licence the other day; it was Monday morning, I think. Big whoop, I guess. I wasn’t really that happy about it. I didn’t dress up to go to court, though I noticed almost everyone else did. The only real eventful thing about that was that the cop that pulled me over at Doller General was there. (I never wrote about that. All what happened was me and my friend Stephen went out at 8 o’clock at night, parked the car, and went over to the new Doller General store they were building, peaked into the windows, looked for a “now hiring” sign, and went to get back into the car. Before we could do that, a cop pulled up behind us. He just thought we had vandalized the area, and made us walk around the grounds with him and his little flash light. Even though he didn’t find anything, he probably thought we were having sex there or something.)

I was dreading writing that. About the cop. I hate when I get so far behind that I have to talk about things from so long ago, or so they seem, that hearing them has even started to annoy me. And they always lose any edge they had… Because I only feel like writing a quickie description. But that’s my fault. For being lazy.

I am so tired right now. But I am waiting for Alan. Or, I’m trying to. On Monday he told me he was going to the ortho to get his braces put back on. I think he said Wednesday. He had had them once before, when he was 12 or 13, I guess. But now he’s trying to fix these insignificant spaces between his four front teeth. I never notice them. :ehh:

Yesterday, the almost impossible happened. Someone IMed me, saying that they read this journal. !!!! I’ll be damned, you know? I thought it was only Alan and myself. It was cool, and a little freaky, when he asked me how me and Alan were. I just wish I could have been fully awake, so the stupid-ass part of me wouldn’t show. But I think it flashed a little… Mainly because he seemed to leave so suddenly. The conversation went from my webpage to my survey, (which he had filled out earlier) to god (he was reading my article on it) and then it was “bye.” I don’t know… I hope my opinions didn’t offend him.

I thought I had so much more to write about… I felt to full of things to say when I started this. I thought I would be here for an hour, or just about. But it’s barley 20 minutes. Depressing. Maybe I just need sleep. I’m so tired. But I’ve said that… Hmmph.

Damn. Time goes by so fast. I guess I should make a response to my last journal entry. But uhm… I’m not really wanting to. I don’t like being wrong, I don’t like over reacting, I don’t like being so paranoid… But he was just busy for those couple of days he was gone. He was everywhere but home.

I actually called him on Sunday out of desperation… And that would probably seem like a bigger event if anyone knew how bad I am about calling someone if I don’t have a specific time to call. I hate that. I hate it so much. I need an “ok to go” kind of thing. I haven’t been able to pick up the phone and call out of no where without having to force myself, and have my heart race. Should I be worried about that?

But anyway. His reaction to it wasn’t really that big. Not as big as it was to me. Maybe that’s part of the reason why I’ve had a little bitch over the past few days. He was nice enough to try to call 2 different times yesterday, and though I don’t take full responsibility for it, I’ll admit I was “abnormally irritable.” Everything I said just blurted out. And during the second phone call, I’m not sure why, but I was surprised when I actually made him angry enough to change his tone. Then, when I was already feeling bad about what I had done/was doing, he started saying “You’re making me feel bad.” He always says that… And it always feels like he’s blaming me.

Argh. I still have stuff to catch up on… But that’s all I feel like writing. I’m always so tired now, either that or I’m doing homework. It sucks ass. Maybe tomorrow.

I haven’t made any updates in a while. There’s a lot to catch up on; a lot I want to write. But right now none of that is really important. I believe Alan is avoiding me again.

Every time he’s been “thinking” he decides not to talk to me, and he does not even bother to e-mail me back when I ask where he is, or he will stretch truths to excuse his absence, until he figures out what to do with the problem. This, of course, only happens when it deals with me or us. Obviously. He has done this a couple of times now; the last one was not too long ago. He pulled this on me the week, and then he called me, with all intentions of breaking up with me.

Maybe he’s been busy, tired, sick, or whatever. Maybe. It appeared he was out late last night, as he didn’t read the e-mail I sent him until 12:40 something; so maybe he slept in until 3. Maybe. (His sister signed on Alan’s screen name, and when I IMed her, she said he let her use his computers, and that he had just left for work. No time there for him to sign on, I guess.) Regardless of what is really happening, he has made me paranoid of any actions that even resemble avoiding. Any.

What makes me so aware and on edge for it, is whatever he has to say after not talking to me for the usual week, usually hurts more when I realize he decided to avoid me completely, not letting me in, while he sits on something that would drastically change both of our lives. If I have problems, I work them out with him, one on one, whether I like it or not. He deserves to hear if it affects him. But maybe that is another one of the things that I do for him and automatically expect in return. I guess I am bad with those.

Writing this is actually making me feel better, but also just more angry. I haven’t been able to freely speak about this before; either my friends are too busy to listen, or I refrain from writing it here because I’m scared of Alan being offended when he reads it. I hold a lot of things back for fear of upsetting him. That has to do with past experience, as I am too blunt for my own good when I open up as much as I want.

Whether or not he is actually avoiding me at the moment, it feels good to be writing old frustrations out.

I have always done to others what I want in return. That probably came from when someone at sometime once gave me a taste of my own medicine, but hell if I can remember an exact moment. Ever since, I have not said much (unless I was beyond the point of just being “furious”) or done anything without putting myself in the persons place or situation. I do this before, or soon after, almost every time I have contact with any living thing. I know I have sometimes acted on raw emotion, and usually if I sit and think about it, I’ll give out my apologies. A lot of those who have e-mailed me with the wrong kind of questions have learned that.

I try to keep compassion at all times, and I have done that so much for so long, I expect nothing less than the same consideration in return. Looking back on the last couple of years, the lack of that respect from others is the only thing that has been able to push me over the edge. Whether it is directly or indirectly.

More times than not, when I am going out with friends, or have to be somewhere period, I e-mail Alan and tell where I am and how long I’ll be gone, whether or not I think he’ll be online. I try to e-mail Alan first and tell him before I do anything. Though sometimes I can not always do that, I will either just stay home or not stay as long as I wanted to make up for it. To me, it’s not really the option of “Oh, maybe he’ll be offline,” or “I don’t think an extra hour will matter.” Whether he will be online or not, I e-mail him, so that he won’t be up waiting and worrying if he does sign on. Sometimes I wonder if it is over protective and rude of me to expect that of him in return.

Recently he’s gotten better. I don’t expect him to not go out with friends and sacrifice his social life; I would just like some help in savoring my own. If I think he’ll be online, I’ll simply tell my friends I don’t feel well, and cannot go. Yesterday was a good example: a lot of my friends were going to be at my school’s home football game, and they wanted me to come. I stayed home so I could talk to Alan. I waited as long as I could, thinking that as soon as I left he would probably sign on. But he wasn’t back until almost 1. And didn’t reply to the e-mail I sent him.

I don’t see myself in the wrong, but most people can’t see themselves there, either. I can admit, though, a lot of my problems with this have to do with the the things I make up in my mind. I can put things together and create a whole new paranoia.

That brings up something else on my mind that I’ve pushed far back: I’ve never directly told him, but that is one of the biggest reasons why I do not want Alan to do drugs or drink or anything: people let down their guard when they are like that. I am opposed to drugs period, of course, but I don’t have anywhere near as much passion against my friends taking them compared to Alan.

I just read over this journal message of so far. I don’t want to post it. It is not only uncompassionate to Alan, because I’m not sure what emotions it will stir in him, but it’s a perfect example of me being too blunt and opening up too much. But, then, I shouldn’t feel ashamed to express how I feel. It’s unhealthy. I could easily just save it on my computer; I did get it out, it’s already served it’s purpose. But then there’s the feeling that it does not matter if I don’t put it out with the rest of my journal entries.

I know a part of me wants Alan to read it. Just for him to know how I feel. These are not things that effect how much I love him. I’d give my life for him. These are just things that are slight annoyances. Like someone who bites their nails or cracks their knuckles. I’m sure Alan has some of them for me. He just does not have something like this to express them.

But he would if he’d only get his journal up. Damnit.