No Title Given
I had a great day, despite the scene that was my afternoon. When I returned home and signed online, there was yet another e-mail from Alise. She took it upon herself, again, to comment on what I post here. As if she could say something that would make me say "Damn, I was wrong. Look how RIGHT she is." She also resorted to taking low shots at me, which was uncalled for. Just because she was upset about something that she DOES NOT HAVE TO READ doesn't mean she's allowed to get in my face about it. It's a very simple concept at work, but it just seems to slip by some people.
We e-mailed each other letters back and forth a couple of times. I find it so completely frustrating when someone speaks about me like she did. I get hot flashes up and down my back. You know the feeling, when someone is so wrong about a certain topic and you just get so mad. I've grown to know her trigger points, and I used them some. I got the last word in after threatening that I would delete any further e-mails she sent me. The childish argument would have continued endlessly if I had not. That is really the only thing we have had in common: stubbornness.
Before I returned home, I had actually had a great day. Despite the fact that I had to wear my glasses, most people commented that I look "smart," if they even said anything at all. That made things a lot easier. I also decided to wear a brightly colored skirt (gasp!) and shirt, just to make up for the glasses. I got a lot of good comments on it.
Billy Thomas. He's 14, freshman, and well... I flirt with him constantly. I feel weird proclaiming that I am a flirt, but I have been enjoying it. Weird. I'm finally starting to enjoy the freedom I have now. Being guilt free may just get me in more trouble than it helps, but oh well. I never have fun anymore.
For the past couple of weeks, the friendly flirting has gotten a little hot. In the middle of class, he'll be brushing his fingers up and down my arms, or on my sides, and sometimes he'll lightly tug on my hair. (coughBIGTURNONcough) He does this will leaning back in the chair next to me. I turn, smile, and he returns it.
I am usually not the one to gush like that. But for the past couple of years, I have felt older than I really am. Whenever I heard the word "like," I would automatically think 12 year olds and Backstreet Boys. Like it was a cheap version of love, and I was older and better just because I thought I had that. I'm a little anxious to buy some teenybopper time back.
Today I told Billy that I wanted him to sign my yearbook. He smiled and said "Oh, I am important enough to sign your yearbook?" And I said "Yeah. I'm trying to fill up all of the pages this year." And I paused... Then I said, in a low, sexy voice... "I've never had it completely filled before."
I love making perverted comments.
We both cracked up, and he turned bright red. He was making low grunting noises in between laughs... I liked that. It's sexy.
I think I may want him.
Like I mentioned yesterday, my mother came to school to meet with me and my guidance councilor to talk about my schedule, and college courses, and etc. It turned out that the guidance councilor that I have been assigned to was monitoring some testing that was being done for AP classes. The guidance aid had not mentioned this to my mother yesterday. We ended up being with a lady who was all smiles and was out to answer questions, but she could do nothing with my schedule. She couldn't do anything with my schedule. I asked questions about things my guidance councilor had mentioned to me before, and she acted as if she had know idea what I was speaking of. I was to angry and frustrated. It took a lot to get my mother up there to the school, and she made the trip completely pointless. And not only pointless, but long; we spent a 1/2 hour waiting for her before going in, because she was on the phone. Even my mother was frustrated with her. Bitch.
I am tired. My eyes are heavy. I need sleep.
Note: Timestamp of entry is not accurate.
No Title Given
For the past two days I have been trying to write journal entries, but every time I came to the diaryland.com website, they were either moving servers or I couldn't even access the page. I should have written journal entries and then posted them at a later date, but that idea didn't really hit me until I was trying to sleep last night. Oh well.
The past couple of days have been utterly uneventful. Even though I missed a week of school, all of my classes have either gone on to other projects, or are devoting this week to prepping for the SOL's (Virginia State Tests - Standards of Learning) next week. But that is a whole nother headache in and of itself.
Yearbooks were passed out last week at my school. I knew about it while I was out, but it never really occurred to me that I would have trouble getting my own pre ordered yearbook when I did return to school. I spent the majority of yesterday running around to where people told me to go, and each place/person was not helpful at all, if they were even where they were said to be. Then, today, I talked to a completely different person. She wrote down my name, and by 4th block, she had tracked down my yearbook. I love her now.
And of course, there are no pictures of me in the yearbook, other than the standard class picture. There really wasn't any room for any additional pictures of me, because there had to be doubles of each preppy girl in the school on each page. Wouldn't want to cramp their style.
I had a follow up doctor's appointment for my eyes. I had been wearing my contacts to school for the past two days, mainly because I didn't think my eye condition was that bad. I knew it had not gotten any better, but I also had assumed that it wasn't a real threat to my health. The condition in my left eye has gotten significantly worse. She explained that I had scabs on my eyes. Since these scabs are "loose," they come off very easy. So every time I would scratch my eye or took a contact out, it would pull off that scab. Pretty graphic. I have all these new things I have to put in my left eye, and I can't wear my contacts until Sunday, at the earliest. It all depends on if they heal or not.
Alise has not talked to me for the past couple of days. It may be a normal thing; I never really paid attention to our conversation schedule. She may not have even read my journal entry about her. But I don't see that as a horrible thing. If she does speak to me, I will just e-mail it to her.
After I decided to exclude Alan from contacting me, I was a little disappointed that he didn't come after me. Apart of me wanted him to come rushing to me, saying that he needed me. I get so caught up in those magical thoughts sometimes. I am my own disappointment.
I do get my hopes up too much. Ever since Carl mentioned that he would try to hook me up with Mike... I've been acting like a giddy preteen over it. It almost makes me sick how I sit and think and imagine and just get my hopes up. When I get like that, I can almost garuntee (sp?) I will either mess something up, or just be let down, plane and simple. I hate being able to predict my mistakes.
I went shopping today. After my doctor's appointment, my mother had to go to the mall and return a few things. I went into a clothing store and bought a pair of pants, a shirt, and a necklace. All matching. I'm metamorphosing into something new... Something that matches. I actually own a couple of dresses now. I suppose those are steps forward.
My mother is actually coming by my school tomorrow. She's going to sit down with me and my guidance counselor and discuss my future; something my mother had done everything in her power to avoid. She is the main reason why I thought I wouldn't be going to college. And it was all because of money. She acted as if my family couldn't afford a good education for me, and wouldn't even try to. They never even thought about saving up money for college when I was growing up. I told my mother today that they shouldn't have decided to have a child if they were not willing to try to provide me with something better than they had received. "Don't just put me in the water. Teach me to swim." I found out a couple of days ago that my father is willing to pay. He obviously doesn't expect me to go to Harvard (sp?), but to a decent college.
After my mother stops by, she's going to take me home. I'm looking forward tot hat.
This entry is not as "in depth" as my past few have. I just didn't have the energy to analyze things, or talk different than I usually do. These were just some rushed thoughts from the past two days. No time to stop.
Note: Timestamp of entry is not accurate.
No Title Given
I don't really want to be writing in here. At the moment, there are so many other things that I wish I could be doing, but I don't have the will to do those either. And besides, I hate having to come back days later and try to catch up on my days and events and feelings. It's silly, and exhausting.
I made a comment about my friend Alise in my last entry. I spoke about how she constantly talks about herself, and how it's always about these almost spiritual bonds she seems to form with everyone (especially those equipped with a twig and berries.) I could never go ON AND ON about myself as she does so freely. It's a never ending blurb. Doesn't she ever notice I'm never happy when we talk? Doesn't she ever notice that I'm only 1/2 listening? Doesn't she ever notice she's the only one who talks?
She actually wrote me an e-mail, and a very winded one at that, explaining the reasons she has to constantly speak of nothing but herself. She said she needed to talk girl talk to someone. And she went ahead and further explained the complexity of her many friendships, and how she loves them all in some way or another. Even giving some specifics. It could be seen as a touching sentiment for friendship, for love.
I can't stand it. How can she babble on and on and not, even for a second, realize that I have not said a thing. That she doesn't really know the person she's talking to, and probably never has. That she doesn't even know that I'm still bitter. That she didn't even realize that I was smiling when her friend stabbed her in the back, just like she did me. That she doesn't even realize I've never believed all the bull shit she's fed me about what we went through almost 3 years ago. I know what kind of a person she is. No matter what she has, what she doesn't have, or how many guys she thinks are drooling after her. I've known, and will always. She needs to uncover her eyes.
I'm working on a new layout for the domain. Something completely new. I'm using DHTML, layers, and a lot of special effects. It's going to be good. I'm trying to venture into the techie world of pixels. Tiny, block-like graphics. I want to be working on it right now, but I have been glued to this computer screen for a good 4 hours already. I have tomorrow off work (like I requested) so I'll have all tomorrow to fiddle with it as well.
Right now I'm worry free. I'm far away from Monday. I miss ALL OF LAST WEEK from school, and I know I will be swamped. I guess I should kiss my dreams of straight A's good bye, and just hope I pass. But for right now, that's not a problem. I still have one more day of naive innocence, and I'm going to eat it up. Be carefree while I can.
Carl said he was going to try to hook me up with Mike, from work. I doubt he would ever go for anyone like me... I'm very nonconformist. I'm not as pretty as some of the girls he's been turning down. As superficial as it sounds, the only reason why I'm giving much though to it is that the girl he's currently thinking about is a woofer. It's a sick ego boost, I know, but I've never been able to say that. I've always been the woofer. But we'll see.
Note: Timestamp of entry is not accurate.
No Title Given
I am getting horrible at updating this. The only excuse I have to justify it is that I've developed a new obsession, The Sims. I've gone mad down loading additional skins for the game, and hunting down cheat codes. Hopefully it will wear off. Finding out all that I know seems to have taken the real fun out of the game.
I've spent the past two days, including today, at home. During that time I've seen two different doctors. My eye doctor informed me that I had a classic irritation from wearing my contacts for too long. She gave me a prescription for drops that I have to put in every 4 hours, but only while I am awake. I am also not allowed any contact wear until the follow up appointment, which isn't until Tuesday. For some reason my parents are being compassionate and are letting me stay at home tomorrow as well. Or, I am assuming. I'm not going to set my alarm tonight, so we will see.
I will have to work my 9 hours on Saturday, and attend school both Monday and Tuesday. Hopefully I will have work off on Sunday like I requested last week. But with my luck, she will be working me on Tuesday.
Yesterday I was out and about a lot. I was able to do a little shopping at Khols, and I have to brag that I found a sale rack that had perfectly good clothes and pants marked down to as little as $9. I spent $62, and bought almost 4 complete outfits. Doesn't happen that often.
Yesterday I e-mailed Alan. I am so frustrated with him... For two months I have done nothing but request a decent explanation for the feelings that have been attacking me. And he failed to do anything more than say "there's so much to say." I kept waiting, and he did nothing. I doubt the concerned him at all. He acted as if I was on the bottom of an acquaintance list. That I didn't matter at all. I am so tired of that feeling.
I decided to block all communication off from him. I blocked all of the e-mail addresses and instant message names. It sounds so stupid and childish. So pre-teen. I never wanted to lose contact with him. I miss hearing him laugh, and the way he laughed. I miss knowing what is going on in his life. How he's feeling, what he's thinking. But I couldn't stand the fact that I still spend the majority of my time waiting for him to be there. The difference between before and now is that now he does not care what I am doing. If I am waiting or not, it doesn't seem to concern him. His responsibility to me no longer binds him. I can't stand just waiting with my hands and heart bound. At least this way, I know not to expect anything.
I am not happy with my explanation of the situation. There are so many pathetic emotions that I could sprinkle though out it, but I try to hold back. I try not to dwell too much on deep feelings when I write. It does nothing but hurt me.
My friend Alise amazes me. Her interests jump from guy to guy like a dangerous game of Shoots and Ladders. We barley ever talk, but when we do, she is usually spouting long paragraphs about why this guy is her best friend, and why they are so close. Beat me with a rock, why don't you. I've never seen someone get so much out of so little. I know she will read this, but it's nothing I haven't said before. Just because the words have taken an absence from my mouth doesn't mean I've stopped feeling them. It makes me wonder if she carries these conversations on with her other friends. It makes me wonder how she can have such great friendships with other people if this is what her subjects of gab are limited to.
For the past two days I've gotten an amazing amount of hits from losers.org. And it feels great to see that 70+ today alone have seen my little spot on the internet. That they acknowledged it's existence. But the fact that most of them probably don't make it past the splash page, let alone actually get into any of the content, is depressing. That the majority of them probably write the site off after the first look as not being "fun." I've been checking, and both this journal and my guestbook have not received any more hits than usual. It's frustrating.
I am hot in this room. I am constantly hot, all day long. I can't stand it. I can't sleep like this, which explains why this entry was even written in the first place. Sorry it was worded so badly. I am tired.
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No Title Given
I feel guilty for staying home again from school. Mainly because my father bitched and fussed at me, calling me lazy and that I should just take responsibility for my school and work. Just because he can't understand my lack on energy means I have to do what he says. He never bothers to ask me how I am doing at any point in time. How can he assume he knows everything there is about me? It's too frustrating to worry about it anymore.
I had a different reason for staying home today. I cannot remember the correct name for it, but it basically means I have a scratch on my eye. It's caused by wearing my contacts longer then I should be. It makes it so I cannot wear the contact in that eye, and basically making me useless to do much of anything.
I slept the majority of the day, since that is basically the only activity I can do without getting a headache, or having to resort to wearing my glasses. My prescription is so think, my glasses make me feel as if I'm inside a fish bowl. Walking around alone makes me feel sick and dizzy. My father had plenty to say about that, also. I am wearing them now, and the simple task of turning to face my TV almost makes me fall out of my chair. And on top of that, the glasses shrink my eyes to almost 1/2 their original size. I look horrible.
My doctor appointment isn't until Wednesday.
This weekend was boring, and basically a pain. I worked 9 hours on Saturday, without any real crisis. Sunday I managed to crack my ring finger nail, right in the middle. I also managed to get off early from work, but only so I could try to hunt my mom down in Fredericksburg. We had to meet in town and leave my father's car at Chrysler (sp?) car rental, so he would have a mode of transportation after he turned in the rental care he currently had. I wasn't able to track down my mom, and spent an hour waiting in the Pizza Hut parking lot for her to find me at our pre scheduled meeting place.
Ever since Friday, Stephen has been calling my house more. He's been thanking me a lot. He used our little outing to try to make Jennifer jealous. And it makes me want to back off. I know he is capable of having feelings for me, and maybe even prone to doing so. It's happened before, and to put it bluntly, that is the last thing I want. I don't want emotional attraction from anyone, especially from Stephen. He's my friend. That's it. It almost makes me angry that I cannot have a decent relationship without someone always wanting more.
Vince has also gotten into the habit of not speaking to me unless he's spoken to. I can't stand that.
I also feel better about Alan. I looked at some pictures of me and him, and it hit me how much he looks like... Well, a troll. It made me take a step back and look at all of the things we did together. And I saw him as a troll then, also. The past couple of months of the relationship, I had begun to think I was better than him. And maybe I am on some superficial levels. They make me feel better, no matter how disgustingly snobby they may be. I don't care about sparing him.
Thank god I'm done with this.
Note: Timestamp of entry is not accurate.