Hooplah.Org

I had a great hair day today. No particular reason for mentioning that. Was just that proud of it.

Got up early this morning, around 9:30. I needed to go to Germana Community College to get my transcripts for the Psychology courses I took during senior year. I was going to go by myself, and had set my own pace, but my father asked if he wanted me to go along. That basically meant he had invited himself, and I have to give him an estimate of time as to when I would be leaving. After I had taken a shower, I had wanted to go and tell him he didn’t need to come, but he had already gotten showered and dress and was pouring himself some coffee. It was then I noticed just how thin he has gotten… He’s lost about 50lbs, I would guess. He looked like he was wearing clothes that were two sizes too big, and his aged really showed. He almost seemed caring and nice in such a fragile condition, so I just decided to let him come. We went up to Germana in the scorching heat around 10:30, went into the building that was closest to us, and then asked for the lady that my mother had been told over the phone yesterday. We picked up the transcripts (both the school’s copy and my copy given to me – the school’s copy was supposed to mailed to the school. But oh well. Hopefully they won’t have a problem accepting such a letter so informally and on such sort notice.) On the way home, he brought up my recent report card. I’m not sure how the subject came up, but my father immediately started ripping to the fact that I got one F in a class. He couldn’t comment on the A’s I got, just as he never did. The only thing that ever caught his attention was an F, and he took it upon himself to confront me in such a hostile manner, repeating over and over “I wouldn’t show that report card to anybody.” That, of course, is in comparison to the number of people he showed my straight A report card to, which is zero. Zero is also the number he said he wished he could show the report card to. Zero is the number of comments he made about it at all. My parents are completely uninvolved in my school work until I screw up. Then, my father puts a foot in the door and starts screaming. I’ll never understand how he can’t understand the logic that if I do not get praise for doing good, I won’t have a problem with doing less. Seems as though if I can state that logic that I would be ahead of it… But I’m not. If I see them as thinking it’s not important, then I will treat it as unimportant. And even though I had A’s on that report card, he focused on the F. Even when I tried to show him I got two A’s in college classes, and my transcript read “Academic Honors”, he said the F would always outweigh such accomplishments. Sometimes I wish his fragile body would just collapse into dust.

Work was alright. I was talkative and probably a little annoying the entire evening. The major crisis was the cashier, James, who smelled so freaking rank I thought I would be sick. And the fact that you can detect a hint of man-perfume to try to cover up the smell just made my throat want to close. His shirt was dirty, too – with some yellowish like stains near the bottom of his shirt, where it usually would have been tucked into his pants. Yuck. He’s also the son of a woman I HATE who is a office manager of sorts. He greases his hair back to try to look slick, and talked about the dullest topics, which usually only include him and his friends. I used to joke around and talk with him until he started showing up to work smelling of putrid BO, something I cannot stand. Something that I usually tried to hold my breathe through the duration of when customers came through my line. But I couldn’t hold my breathe for 4 hours while he was working the register in front of me. It slowly went away. I even told Valerie about it, and we joked some… She had worse things to say about it than I did. She said she even talked to Dot about it, who is my boss, so to speak. Dot responded with, “I’ve never been that close.” You didn’t need to be that close. I don’t know how the customers could stand it. I told Chris about it, a bagger, and as he slowly went over to bag for James, I made eye contact with him and put my hand over my nose. He just stayed looking at me, then turned away.

With the 4th next week, a Wednesday, the schedule is completely packed. I know people will try to wiggle out of the schedule. I really have no problem with the schedule, as I have nothing planned. But the fact that I am work 39.5 hours is a little upsetting. I work 9 hours every day, Tuesday through Saturday, with the exception of Wednesday which I work 8 1/2. The 39.5 hour work week is assuming that I take an hour lunch every day. I think just to be snotty I’ll take 45 minutes every day so I’ll have a little bit of over time on my table. The only good part about working the schedule I do this week is because I will get holiday pay on Wednesday. Because I have worked there for more than a year (almost two) and because I meet the qualifications to get the holiday pay. You have to work the day before, the day of, and the day after in order to get holiday pay on the 4th. So dumb. Sucks for everyone else who CAN BE HOME. Ugh. It’ll be a $400 gross pay check… Probably my largest to date.

24 hours from now I will be somewhere in Radford, possibly still driving down there, or maybe in the hotel room asleep or awake, depending on how nervous I am. I am not looking forward to spending the night there on Sunday. I suppose it’ll serve as a good introduction to what college life will be really like, but I would rather sleep in MY room. Not just in a place with temporary strangers that I will have to talk to just to waste time. I’m a little nervous to be seeing the campus for the first time. I’ve heard it’s beautiful… I just hope to hell that the buildings aren’t old. Can’t stand old looking buildings from the inside, with their small hallways and tiny doorways that the average man has to duck to make it without knocking their forehead. Hell, maybe I can meet someone just tomorrow. I can’t wait to go to college… 8,000 people. At least a couple of them will be attracted to me. And hopefully I’ll return the gesture. I really want to meet someone. Have a normal relationship… Find out what it feels just to fall in love, without having to do it alone (Carl) or having to force myself into it just so that I can have the closest thing to it (Alan).

I don’t really want to talk about myself. A statement that balances itself out to zero. Balances out to a lot of nothing. I don’t want to talk about feelings… Mainly because I cannot think of any new words to associate with the same old subjects. Reusing the abused vocabulary only seems to annoy me when I prethink the sentences in my head. Hence, I am writing differently, to try to chop up the monotony of this evening. I’ve been reading more, which probably has mountains to do with my urge to say something different. A book with an English woman in it, no less, so I might spout off something obviously wanna-be foreign. I’ve become a little lonely, because for some reason I always choose to read romance novels that make me wish I had something more interesting to do than read. Next I think I will read a horror. Then I can spend the days that follow afraid of the dark, instead of laying around feeling very unattached.

I saw a movie the other day. With Bobby; Dr Dolittle 2. It was a funny movie – primarily because I had not seen any of the numerous movie trailers that always show the funniest parts. Bobby is good company. He listens very well, and I like the fact that I can shock him sometimes with just being blunt. He’s been reading what I’ve written here, and during our conversations, he brought up my dildoe and the incident I had with the person in the white truck on the streets of Pompano, FL. Heh. After the movie, we were both tired and headed home, but ended up driving around a little bit, showing each other where other people we knew lived. Bobby brought up that he wanted to go to Stephen‘s house. We did. I feel bad having Stephen around Bobby, because Bobby always beats Stephen up like he’s one of his football buds. Stephen is extremely non violent, and he takes Bobby’s bashings in a helpless manner, and I flinch everytime. But Stephen doesn’t really say anything bad about it… Just laughs and falls on the ground a lot and gets hurt. Bobby wanted to leave, but I still wanted to stay outside. So, he drove home while me and Stephen walked back to my house. Actually, we walked around a lot, and talked and what not. Then went to Food Lion and Burger King, and then called it a night around 9:40.

Jesus, it’s late. Let me post the pictures I wanted to post so I can freaking go to bed.

Ehh, fuck descriptions. They’re self explanatory.

seniorassembly06012001_bobbystephen.jpg,

seniorassembly06012001_carl.jpg,

seniorassembly06012001_carllindsay.jpg,

seniorassembly06012001_james1.jpg,

seniorassembly06012001_james2.jpg,

seniorassembly06012001_jameschrisy1.jpg,

seniorassembly06012001_jameschrisy2.jpg,

seniorassembly06012001_sandy.jpg,

seniorassembly06012001_sandyjamesstephen.jpg,

seniornight06042001_stephen1.jpg, and

seniornight06042001_stephen2.jpg.

tattoo_closeup(06272001).jpg,

tattoo2(06272001).jpg,

smile(06272001).jpg,

eyes(06272001).jpg,

hairlength(06272001).jpg,

lips1(06272001).jpg,

lips2(06272001).jpg, and

lips3(06272001).jpg.

Yesterday, Chris came into Food Lion and I walked away from him. He approached me, and because I had not seen his face (but I knew he was in the store) I started to automatically walk away from him. Space bubble thing, I guess. I walked away, because I had things to do. I figured he would follow me, but he didn’t.

Bobby also came into Food Lion yesterday. Around when I was taking my lunch. I couldn’t have been back there for more than 5 minutes when he came back. Mike came later, and they basically spent a 1/2 hour in the Food Lion break room, talking and shit. Bobby invited me go to see Dr. Doolittle 2 with him tonight, and I have been dieing to see that movie. I wanted to go to the tanning bed with my mother this afternoon… Maybe I still can, depending on showing time. It would only take a 1/2 hour, after all.

Blah. I’m off to work. A thrilling 9-3 shift… Express, no less. At least Sedessa will be coming in at 12 to trade with me.

Did I mention that Alan is no longer talking to me because I made fun of his small penis? No, I guess I didn’t. While in Florida and Myrtle Beach, with Lindsay, Carl, and Sandy edging me on, I made many comments about it, calling it such names as little critter and what not. I mean, really – if you’re going to be a sex craved nympho, you’d think the person would have to be suitably hung. As if they have so much of it that it would be understandable to have a more present sex drive than the average man. He proclaimed that he would see our relationship as null and void, and promptly blocked my screen name. Afterwords, I proceeded to sign on a variety of other screen names through AIM, IMing Alan random shit, all aimed to piss him off. He blocked every screen name, including some of Sandy’s screen names and shit. At one point, I made a comment that he was starting to hurt my feelings… And my ego. Then I wrote, “Lego my ego.” Then he signed off, and I had to change screen names again. In some ways, I didn’t really like doing that to him. Even though he deserves to have his bubble popped, he doesn’t understand why it should be. Like a wasted effort. He just sees it as me hurting his little feelings. Well, cry me a river, little avenger. Suck my dick, too.

I saw Chris today. Chris. I went out on a “date” with Chris more than a year ago… Almost two. It was just after I had been working at Food Lion, he was working there, took interest in me, so I thought, why not. I was with Alan at the time, so I kept a good distance from him… Or, I tried to. He insisted on keeping his hand on or near my leg during the entire movie of “Three to Tango,” and proceeded to try to hug and touch me when we strolled through Toys R Us. He also tried very hard to pull me toward him when he had his had rested on the back of my neck as I was trying to leave that night… did it twice, I think. I never went out with him again… And he quit soon after. It was a combination of Alan, and the fact that he talked about a recent ex girlfriend, which I didn’t really think it was right to move in upon. He actually came into Food Lion sometime a couple of months ago.. Gave me his phone number. But his aunt had just died, and again, I thought it a bad time. I saw him yesterday for the first time in months, and I couldn’t help but stare at him and give him big smiles. Today, he came in twice, I think. The first time asking me to write my number on the receat, because I guess he could pick up on my interest from yesterday. Then, later on this evening, he surprised me with another visit. He startled me everytime he came in… I am just not used to seeing someone like him, because it switches me from work mode to friend mode… The difference being, I can get mad in friend mode. But, I wouldn’t mind going out with him to see if he’s changed… He muttered something the last time I saw him, about living in Florida… And if I understood him correctly, he said that he comes back home for a month or so. Hopefully I just misunderstood, because I have discovered I have inherited my father’s bad hearing and lack of understanding of what I hear. But, anyway… A date would be nice. Real nice. To go out and have someone else pay for it. I think he’s making a lot of money now. Valerie pointed that out to me, although, I am not sure if it’s true, or if I even really care about that. It’s just something to say about him.

Speaking of James… Here’s a picture of us together at the senior assembly, from 3 weeks ago: seniorassembly06012001_jamesandchrisy.jpg.

I decided I would go ahead and post all of the pictures that were taken by my digital camera on the trip. But, instead of clicking links on this page (which would take FOREVER with descriptions) I decided I would just make a directory and link it. So, hmm, just click here.