Saturday, July 14, 2001

Food?


What is a teenage girl to do when she can't drive, it's dark outside, and she needs food? That's my dilema. Earlier today I walked to Wendy's to get my brother and I lunch (and he ended up eating my portion of that), and it was hot and I was sweaty and my left eye started to water and blur. I thought I was going blind. Not to mention I decided to avoid the heavy streets on the way home so I went through a residential area to get out and ended up going 10 minutes out of my way because the brick wall was too high to jump. Not fun. So...now I'm hungry, and I want to eat. I have 60 bucks at my fingers, but what can I eat? I don't feel like going out there in the dark, plus having to walk. You see, my parents are out of town for the weekend, and my aunt Chole is in charge of my brother and I. She was supposed to be here three hours ago. That's a smart person to leave in charge of the kids you don't trust. I could be fornicating right now. I could be shooting up. I could be going to pornographic websites. Oh the tragedy of it all. But I'm just sitting here thinking how hungry I am...

What am I to do? I really really don't want to order pizza, especially since I'd just be ordering a personal pan size pizza because I don't really eat. So...urg! I thought KFC delivered, but...they don't answer their goddamn phones. Plus how much do you tip a KFC delivery guy? How much do you tip a pizza delivery guy? This is information that I don't have at my fingertips. So...*snarl*

However, I am going to start a zine. I'm going to order some from some other people to get an idea of how I want mine to be (or not be). Right now I'm working on content...and then I have to arrange to get a PO Box and all that because my parents would not be cool with me giving out my real adress (don't ask don't ask). What sucks is that there are no PO Box places near me...I have quite a walk to get to the nearest one (like...I think a mile and a half to get to the university and there's a place over there). So...we shall see, we shall see. I have 50 of my own personal bucks, and my bro owes me 20, so..it should work out okay.

Okay okay, I give up, I'm going to see if Dominos sells anything besides pizza, wish me luck...Pixie

Friday, July 13, 2001

Did I mention that one of the guides name was Biscuit's name and one was named Sarah? Sarah is the girl Biscuit went out with for a little while after we started talking...and it was such a shock because I didn't even know that he *knew* Sarah, and I was like "oh, he knows sarah?" and everyones like, looking away *cough cough* "yeah, they're actually going out". I was really upset, I remember that. Why didn't anyone tell me!? Although maybe it's a better thing no one did, and at least they cared about me enough to spare my feelings...for the time being.

So...whenever someone talked to the Biscuit-guide or mentioned him I started thinking about my Biscuit. And how he's not my Biscuit. But, we always had to catch a swimmer or Aquafina bottle or some other such emergency, and he'd be forgotten until the next time someone said Biscuit's name.

River Rafting With SNL


So...I'm back from river rafting. We got up at 2:30 and my mom was like "brittany, your aunt is already at the spaghetti bowl!" This confuses me as, she didn't tell me what she expected me to do. And I don't know how far away the spaghetti bowl is, I don't drive and I don't get out much, so the significance of the spaghetti bowl is nothing for me. We drove there, got a little lost, and were about 10 minutes late but it was okay. 7 of us plus a guide squished into a rather large van and took a little drive up these curvy roads and at these angles that made us slightly nervous about falling over.

So...we rafted and rafted. There were like, six rafts that were with the same company and we were all pretty much together, and in one of those rafts there were two people from Saturday Night Live. I don't watch TV, so I don't know who they are, but I'll find out from my brother later on. But it was cool to know that they were just normal people that were going white water rafting on the weekends. It was a pretty eventful day actually - just not for my raft. After we went down the first big rapid a boat got stuck, and two people fell out - we caught them though. But there was this whole big icky thing and it took them forever to become unstuck. La di da, row row row, class 5 rapids up ahead so we had to carry out the raft and cross this little bridge and we were all congested and blocked up. All of our company was waiting, plus another company was waiting in line (you had to go across this pulley thingy to avoid the class 5's),

And then I saw this guy. I have this love/hate feeling when I see people like this. I love that I saw them, that I had the opportunity to experience seeing them (I know, it's silly), I love that I get to see people like taht in the world, I love that they're there in the first place. And then I hate them for not being like that. He was quite cute, but that wasn't the point. He was one of the leaders (although rather young, I'd place him at 15-17), and he was wearing these baggy dark green shorts, and a glitter belt. You know, you see them in girly shops, they're belts with glitter on them and shapes cut out (his was silver with stars). Just seeing him wear that made me want to fuck him, just so I could say that I did. It was so...cool. I wish I had that...

Blah blah lunch blah blah jumping off cliffs (very very fun!) blah blah. Our boat didn't do anything exciting. However, this one leader, Anne, kept getting stuck on rocks. After the third time it stopped being funny. While stuck she would get up and shake her ass and dance which was funny, and then one of the SNL guys decided to do his immitation :)

And at the very end. leaders: "Group picture! Say 'white water' on three. One! Two! Three!" everyone: WHITE WATER *splash* ::shivers from the buckets of water just thrown on them:: And a busride home. You know what I hate? When you have to pee, so you do, but you still feel like you have to pee but you can't. It happened to me once we got back in town and I find it to be one of the most irksome things my body does to me, which is saying a lot. Overall? It was fun. However, our guide was too good. Everything was smooth and calm, but I suppose that can be a good thing sometimes.

On the drive home my mom drove me crazy. We started driving once it started to get dark (around 8:30pm) and she turns on the car light. My aunt says that the light really bothers her because she can't tell how close people behind her are, or if they're even there at all and my mom just ladida doesn't care. Finally my aunt was just like "you know, the light really really bothers me, can we turn it off?". I mean, for someone (my mom) who constantly bitches at my aunt for her driving unsafely, and then doing something that was unsafe...how hypocritical. Then my mom decides that it's too dark and she'll fall asleep if we don't talk. So what's the best way to keep everyone awake? If she reads scenarios from her hmwk about being a principle and we answer them. So every 5 minutes the light would come on for her to read. Plus it was boring, seeing as my bro, me, and my aunt's friend couldn't really give a damn. I just couldn't believe how rude she was being! I mean...just leave the light off, it's not a big deal if you don't read all your chapters now, especially when it involves *my* safety.

I wonder what it's like for people who aren't from Las Vegas. How do they feel when they come home from out of town? No matter where you come from, by plane, car, or bus, from whatever direction, you see the strip, and the Stratosphere and Luxor and all the other casinos. What's it like to come home to a place that doesn't have that? What's it like to come to a place where McDonalds don't ever close? (We were quite shocked when we wanted some Egg McMuffins at 5am and discovered we weren't in Vegas anymore). What's it like to go to the 7-11 and not have slot machines? I wonder about these things a lot. I remember when my family took a trip to Oregon, and my brother and I kept asking where the slot machines were in the corner stores and airports. We went to San Francisco and kept saying "booth for 4, smoking" before we realized that...we didn't have the choice. How weird is that?

And, now I'm home. And tired. And I left Hard Love in my aunt's car. And I'm sunburned. Just on the top of my thighs. So I ask of you, my readers, what will happen once the sunburn is gone. Will I be nice and tan? Will I stay pasty white? (I'm not really pasty white, I have skin that tans easily, but for the parts that have never seen the sun - they're pasty white). You see, I've never had a sunburn. Well, once I had one. But other than that, the worst I've gotten is red on the cheeks and pink on the shoulders. My mom's a sun screen adict. I've never blistered or peeled, or even been so red it hurt. Right now it's just a little pink, but I don't know what will happen once that's done.

I don't have anything else to say...in the car I was thinking all these things I wanted to write down, and I should have because now I don't remember. Well...I suppose that's all folks. Pixie
Fuck blogger. Fuck it all. I just wrote a very nice long post, very deep, very pensive and revealing. It's as though blogger doesn't want to help me. I'm crying now, and you'd get it if you read my post. Fuck blogger. Fuck fuck fuck. I hate that word I love it it makes me feel powerful and afraid. I hate that. That I just wrote this long revealing piece that was a part of me, a part of the puzzle that I don't have half the pieces to. That's what happens when you've been hurting yourself since you were 10. That's what happens when you stop feeling emotions when you're 10 years old. That's what happens when every time you stop cutting you find another way to hurt yourself. And if you're not hurting yourself you're hurting the people you love. And when that's not happening you're stopping yourself from being happy. I'm sorry to everyone who has ever loved me, who I hurt because I couldn't be happy. To S. To Brandon. To Brian F. Maybe even to Joe. I don't know, but I know that with anyone I ever cared about instead of getting closer to them I distanced myself. Because I didn't want to feel hurt. I didn't want to feel pain. Isn't that what cutting is all about? Not feeling? I think so. So now I'm this puzzle, and I don't have half the pieces because I don't know who the fuck I am or what the fuck I want. And I explained it all, every bit and piece. And it didn't do me any good because I end up right where I start. Fucked up. Maybe I'll explain it when I get back saturday or after I sleep, maybe I won't. Because I don't know how to bring back those feelings and those words that made so much sense and helped me figure so many things out. The e-mail I got, which I'm not ready to really discuss, which you would know if blogger was being nice, it ended with this:

Stop looking
for validation from others. I don't need to see you to tell that you have a wonderful heart
and many gifts to share with the world. That's beauty, if I've ever known
it). Why wait to hear it from someone else, only to have that taken away
by yet another person? If you know it in your heart and reassure yourself,
no one can take that away. You aren't worthless. You're amazing. You
know it, now just live it.

How could someone know that about me without even knowing me? With just barely scanning the measely archives I have up. Without ever meeting me or seeing me or touching me or hearing me? How can somoene have so much faith in one rambling teenage girl, that for all he knows is a mass murdering druggie whore? How can he do that? Does he really believe it? Why did he write it if he didn't? Why did he write me at all? Why can he see that about me, and I can't. Why do I still hate myself? Why don't I know who I am in the first place? And how can I hate someone that I don't know? Download Counting Crows - Colorblind. It's good. Pixie

I think Emiliana knows what she's talking about. "it shouldn't hurt me to be free, it's what I really need, to pull myself together". I'm free from cutting, I should be free from all this. But it hurts me more. It hurts to feel, which is why I started cutting in the first place, right? But I need to keep not cutting, to pull myself together, but it's not working. But...then she says "if it's over being free would you mind telling me, cuz i don't know what to do with myself". What is that supposed to mean? Should I read any meaning into it at all?

Thursday, July 12, 2001

Oh Danny Boy


Went to Barnes and Nobles, got a new book (Hard Love by Ellen Wittlinger, it's sooo good!), drank my brownie frapuccino in bliss, although my stomach was acting up a wee bit. Then we (my dad and I) drove to pick up my brother from his job. My bro is not known for his punctuality, and he came out 20 minutes after we got there, but I felt like opening up to my dad, and we talked for a pretty long time. I don't know what overcame, I don't really mind talking to my dad that much, he's pretty cool about stuff, but it's just like...I don't want to open up to him. I don't want him to know me. Because you can't hurt someone when you don't know them. Not that he'd hurt me anyway, we've never even gotten into a petty fight. I just feel...vulnerable when I let people really get to know me. Although that's funny when I write this, letting people know more about me than some of my best friends do.

Well...when we arrived at my house we found a silver car filled with teenagers waiting (that'd be my brother's friends, not mine, they were going to the movies), and we pulled into the next driveway so that they could leave, when something most unusual happened. As Kathleen (the girlfriend of one of my brother's friends) hopped into the backseat, sitting on a kids lap, Kathleen suddenly calls out "Hey Brittany, do you want to come!?" Oh My Gosh. I was quite shocked. I said no, then the kid who belonged to the lap she was sitting on starts calling out "Brittany! come on! come with us!" This went on for like, five minutes. Because I know this kid. I know this kid actually, better than my brother does, and his name happens to be Danny. And he happens to be the guy that I was infatuated with for a very long time. Like...I was infatuated with him before Homecoming which was when? In October? Gosh...I still have all the notes he used to write me. We stopped talking when he decided to stop writing notes (not just with me, but with everyone).

Jessy used to push him in the hallways. Whenever we'd pass him she'd just bump into him or push him. At the time I was utterly embarrased, as Danny was the Abercrombie and Fitch kind of guy, and when I was with Jessy I wasn't. I wonder why she did it? Was she protecting me? Was she angry at him for not reciprocating my feelings? I don't know, but whatever her reasons, I appreciate it. Because I know she did it out of love. I hope. I'm not really sure. I really have no idea. But I don't think she'd push him for no reason.

I didn't end up going. Don't worry, I'm not like that. I know that if my brother came out with my friends and I...it wouldn't work out. I wouldn't be able to be myself. I couldn't talk about any of our old times, or bring up inside jokes, or even talk about the drama in my life. Or even me liking girls (since, as far as I know, he doesn't know). I know he wants to go out with his friends, and I'd be as uncomfortable as he would be (since Danny does know a lot about me, actually). And I wouldn't have gone even if he hadn't been giving me a thumbs down sign, lol.

So the book I'm reading...it takes place in Boston, which is fabulous for me...since I love that city. And they talk about zines and writing them and stuff. It makes me want to start one, I've been toying for it with it for a while. I've been toying with writing for a while...so...maybe it would be a good start. I have the money, sort of. I'd just be depressed if no one would read it, or if no one thought it was any good. But how else do you improve as a writer without getting feedback? Pixie

The Happy E-mail God



Well as it turns out, I do have a minute. Just a few before I run off to Barnes and Nobles with my dad. Hmm hmm, I should probably do a small recap of my day. I fell asleep at 10 o'clock last night. Can you believe it!? No neither could I. However, I arose very sleepy. It makes me a little put off that when I'm finally seeming like I can get on a normal sleeping schedule, it will be shredded to pieces. Why? Because tomorrow at 3 in the manana (that's morning to all of you non-spanish speakers) I'll be up getting ready to go to California for a day spent river rafting. It should be fun but...a girl can't help but be frustrated by it all.

Everyone came to cross country today, including a new guy, and Ashley and Heather even brought their little brother Austin, who is sooo cute (and, now I can tel the difference between them! Ashley keeps her hair curly, and Heather straightens hers, plus they speak differently). Anne and Sandra gave us this whole "we came for two days straight and we were sooo tired and sore that we just couldn't come yesterday" speech, and that put me off a little bit. The rest of us came for those two days too, and we worked just as hard as they did - if not harder, and we still got up off of our bums and came. It certainly isn't any easier for us to do it than for them. Mellissa got bumped up a group and is now running with Ashley, Heather, and Jeremy. I'm happy for her, I hope I get bumped up soon too. Although she did get lost today (eek!) so maybe I don't want that to happen. It's hard to be in the weight room with so many people there (14 of us plus Randy and Chuck came to visit Ms. Allen). I skipped out on a few machines, just because I knew I could :( I know, I'm bad. But afterwards I did lug around about 12 45 lb weights because we had to clean up and no one else would. That pisses me off...but oh well. And now I'm benching 65 lbs instead of 45 (gee, thanks Chuck).

Nothing new with Jeremy, although I did get some Jelly Belly's from him :) He was wearing a shirt from a church thing, so I asked him what church he belonged to, and he didn't know! But apparently he remembers that he's Christian. Good job Jeremy. About 20 minutes later he realized that the name of the church was on the shirt. Mmhm, that's why we're jocks. Personally I'm not religious, but I'm curious about people who are. Then I noticed his hands...I asked him if he was an artist, he nonchalantly said yeah. Then he was like "hey! how'd you know?". Well, artists have special hands, and now I know how to pick them out. Fairie Chick and I ran through the sprinklers for about 15 minutes. We were big wet cold dorks, but it was fun. Sometimes its important to remember the little things in life.

Urg, I gotta go, we'll have to get to that e-mail later one. *snarl* Pixie

Sweet Dreams



I got a wonderful e-mail today from someone who read my blog :) It was really cool, but unfortunatly I don't have time to talk about that just now. What I will talk about is my dream last night, because as the day goes by I remember less and less. I was walking someplace, it was crowded, and I passed this dude. He had blonde hair, green blue eyes, and was sooo tan. I actually turned around because he was so beautiful, almost god-like. And he turned aorund too and we just looked at him.

Later on we were talking, and I said that I couldn't believe that 'they' let me meet him. He told me that 'they' usually didn't, it wasn't planned for us to actually start talking. I asked him if I would ever see him again before 'it' happened, and he told me that yes, I would see him the summer after my 19th birthday, and I would think to myself "that's the kind of guy I want to spend the rest of my life with".

In the last part, I was running through school (although it wasn't my school) with Paco/, and I tripped. I fell and my sandal came off. Everyone started laughing, and Paco whispered that he didn't want people to know I was with him and ran off with my sandal. I chased after him and tackled him, and started to beat him with my sandal. But someone whispered into my ear "you don't have much time Brittany, stop it". I left him there and ran to my original destination, where the blonde boy was. We hugged, and I started to cry.

And that's all I remember. It upsets me that I didn't write it down earlier today when I would have remembered more...but...I have to wonder, what does it all mean? In the Weetzie Bat books, everyone dreams about the person they're going to fall in love with before they actually meet them. Does this mean I'll fall in love with a blonde haired blue/green eyed tan legged boy? I was telling Fairie Chick about it, and she said "I wonder if some where on the other side of the country, a blonde boy with blue green eyes is telling his best friend about this amazing dream he had about a girl with long, dark hair". Which is so funny, because I've always wondered if when you dream about someone, they have the same dream about you. Well...if I ever do meet that blonde boy, I'll have Fairie Chick to remind me where I *really* first met him. Pixie

Wednesday, July 11, 2001

I need to stop listening to these love songs...I'm going to start leaking or something. I think I'm romantically manic depressed. Right now I'm in my I want to cuddle and be loved mood ::sigh:: "I know you know, that I care about you girl, and I want you in my world, so baby be mine...you know and I know, that you care about me too, so tell me what you want to do, baby be mine. Excuse my persistance, but I can't love you from a distance...all I want to do is make you feel all right..."

In other news, I smell all mint chocolate chippy. I have this mint chocolate chip body wash, and it smells *just like* it. So now I do too. Plus it's green :) And my hair is all nice and clean and turbanized. I got my Delias catalog today...there's this model, and she's so beautiful...I wish I looked like that. I saw a picture of this girl and I just flipped through the rest of the catalog looking for more pictures of her. It wasn't until I reached the very end that I realized how silly it was. However, it's been a long time since I've seen a girl that was that...gorgeously perfect. I realize she's a model, and it's her job to look perfect, but even in Delias they have some people I find quite unattractive. Want to peek into my head? You can see her here Pixie

The Mormon Temple


You say, I only hear what I want to
You say, I talk so all the time, so,
You said that I was naive,
And I thought that I was strong
- Lisa Loeb - Stay

Well, I'm sitting in front of my comp, singing my heart out. I can't help it, I'm like that. On my playlist I have Dream, BBMak, Lifehouse, Edwin Mccain, Soul Decision, Lisa Loeb, Fiona Apple, Bic Runga, Counting Crows, Emiliana Torrini. In case you wanted to know. I hurt mucho. Went to cross country, Fairie told me that Biscuit is a...not-so-talented singer. And we started talking about him. Apparently Trevor has convinced Biscuit that he needs to ask me out. Who knows who knows. Once everyone got there we prepared for our journey. Meghan, Janelle, Paco, Augustine, Heather, Ashley, Fairie, Mellissa, and me squished in one car (yes, we got to know each other very well), and Pat, Galen, and Jeremy in Ms. Allen's truck (the truck has a backseat, but there's a trunk or chest or something on it, so Pat was lying down on top of that, his back to the window!). We drove up to the mormon temple (we weren't going to it dumbass), where us newbies discovered a new hatred. Hills. Our warmup was this one part, two small hills, one big one. During that Jeremy was running with me, Fairie, and Mellisa (god knows why) and Fairie and I were talking about Biscuit and how he's an ass and I shouldn't go out with him. Then everyone went off to their respective running trails (some doing 6 miles, some doing 2, and then the rest of us, lol). Paco, Fairie, Mellissa and I were left to do the warmup three more times, and then we had to do Monster Hill. It is this huge fucker that goes up forever, and when you come down you have to zigzag to avoid getting shin splints because it's that steep.

Yeah, that fucking hill kicked my ass. I ran 90% the first time, 5% the second, and 45% the third time. Then we just hung out around the van and truck resting up. That's when it happened. Pat says "so Brittany, who's Biscuit?" Fairie comes up with "her almost boyfriend thingy" and I'm like "no! he's sooo NOT my almost boyfriend". Pat: "so...he can't sing?" Fairie: "*laughs* he sounds like a guy who's girlfriend dumped him, so he went and got drunk, and now he's trying to sing to get her back" Pat: oooh.

Then Ms. Allen got us all slurpees (which I thought was slinkster cool, there were 12 of us!) and we went back to the school. I was done with my slurpee and Jeremy offered me some of his and I was like oh thanks and took a slurp (?? is it called a slurp?) and he's like no no, pour some in your cup! And I'm like, but I still have mountain dew! He told me to mix it, I told him it would be grossie, he made fun of me for saying grossie.

Nothing unusual there right? Until I started wondering why the fuck Pat was asking me about Biscuit. Well...Pat and Jeremy know each other from last year cross country, and when they went off to run they ran the first bit together, plus were with each other on the way up to the temple area. So...hmm? Maybe? We'll see what happens.

It's sad when the most interesting part of your day is your cross country practice. But hey, I have a teeny tan line from my sports bra (well, I wear a spaghetti strap over it, but the straps go right on top of the bra, and then I just roll it up so my tummy is bare). And I have a tan line at my ankles, but I don't see much difference at the top of my legs and my tummy :( In a few weeks it shouldn't be a problem. Pixie

Tuesday, July 10, 2001

Not A Teenage Mother


he says he feels stupid to be the only one calling... - Fairy Chick about Joe

Three issues to adress here. One is of course, Joe. One, is that I'm not a teenage mom. I don't have sex, because I don't want to get pregnant, and even if I was I'd have an abortion, because I don't want to be a mom. I'm 15. I don't have sex, therefor I *won't* be a teenage mom. Not what I want with my life. Do you know why I bring this up? Because I'm sick of being my mom's mom. I'm sick of picking up her crap and making her dinner, stuff I'd have to do (to an extent) even if I wasn't being paid. She comes home from school, almost in tears because her classes are so difficult. She asks me to warm her up some soup. Okies...she eats the soup, and asks for a PB and J. Okies...she eats that. I tell her we need to go to the store because we don't have food, she asks me for water. She sits at the table, studying, almost about to crying, telling me how she doesn't think she can do it and blah blah. I listen patiently, she stops talking, I start typing, still looking at her. She rolls her eyes and says never mind and goes to bed.

I'm sorry, but I have no sympathy for her. I know what it's like to sit at that table, in that spot, with my head over a book trying not to cry, fighting to stay awake while an information overload just swirls in front of your brain. I know what it's like to not have anyone be able to help you - because no one has been able to help me with my homework for the past two years. And no one got up to make me a fucking sandwhich. They said "good night Brittany, don't stay up too late, lock up". So, sorry if I sound like a brat, but my job is to clean up a little bit, provide dinner, make grocery lists, and go grocery shopping. My job isn't to worry about how much money there is in the bank, it isn't to make my mom sandwhiches at 10 at night when I can barely walk, it's not to listen to her bitch and whine. Especially when she recognizes that she doesn't have to do it. "I could just take 6 credits, but then it's just a little pay raise instead of a bigger one..." Well, that's her fault for having expensive tastes. Considering that I barely eat, they don't buy my clothes, and I never ask my parents for money when I go to the movies or mall or whatever, it's not my problem. It's her problem that she wants more money. We don't *need* more money.

You're probably thinking to yourself that I should stop bitching and support myself. I'd love to do that, but I can't until I'm 16 and even then my parents have to sign the papers, along with me having to find a judge that'll say that I can support myself. So stop thinking that because I'm counting down the days.

The next thing is Joe. I guess Fairie Chick ran into him at Trevor's house and she asked him if he'd talk to me lately and he said no because he felt stupid being the only one to call. So...I'll call him tomorrow. I'm sure lately I haven't been very pleasant to talk to.

The last thing is Ms. S. Well, she used to be Ms. Pickett so we'll call her that so we don't confuse her with Mz. S. Ms. Pickett was my dance team choreographer, she's a wonderful beautiful person that helped me in so many ways I can't even count them. A sweet and wonderful woman (even if my mom thought she was a bitch..."but brittany, you used to complain so much." Yeah that was because she pushed us so hard, and it was worth every minute because we were sooo good). She got divorced this year, her husband was living in Cali while she was here. And next year she's moving to Cali because "many things led her to that decision". She's going to be a 5th grade teacher. I really don't blame her, she had to deal with all the backstabbing and horomones and bitchiness of middle school kids for two long years. However, it does sadden me, because the next question is what happens to dance troupe? The other person who runs the team (mostly does paperwork and such) is going to hire a choreographer, which is good because we were such a good team. Last year my babies went and performed in San Francisco and Disneyland, next year they were planning on going and performing at Disney World. Haha I called them my babies :) Well most of my younger friends certainly were tiny. So...now they're getting some choreographer, and I hope that they're good. It would be utterly depressing to find out that we lost our rep as such a good team, and it would be a bummer to the team if they don't make the auditions to Disneyworld. On the other hand, maybe they'll be even better. *sigh* But I guess that that's what happens, everything changes, nothing is left untouched. Pixie

Hermit Crab


You can't say "I can't", so you do it, that's the way of a runner right there - Danny

::sigh:: Sometimes I wish Danny was at cross country to push me harder. He has a way of putting things. So...I went to cross country. Fairie Chick didn't come, neither did Sandra, or Ashley and Heather (but that's because they were at their dad's house, faaaarrr away). But Mellissa, Augustine, and Jeremy did, along with Anne, Craig, Janelle and I. We ran our half mile, did our warmups (I thought I was going to die during lunges!) Augustine and Jeremy went off to run how ever many miles it is that they do, Mellissa and Janelle went off to do two miles (I think, although Mellisa joined us later). And we stayed on the field. I feel like an old horse that isn't allowed to leave the pasture. We ran around once...then we did this excersise to make us use our arms and lengthen our stride. Then we ran aruond the field, using our arms and lengthening our stride. I went off like a rocket, obviously too fast, and by the end I was dying and didn't do the last lap.

I feel bad for sitting out for some things. I remember on dance team how much it pissed us off when we *never* (we, being me, Crystal, Meghan and Craig) sat out. Maybe three or four times in our three years (well, Craig was only there for one), but we had people who would sit out all the time. I don't want to be the lazy person that everyone hates! I want to be the one that everyone loves :( So I try to make up for it by putting water on the back of people's necks and blowing on them. Then we did weight training...everything's getting easier with the exception of abslide and bench presses. Although right now I'm hobbling around, incredibly sore. I do have to go running tonight...ick. Tonight we're timing my mile, I think. I was all happy because I'm going river rafting on Friday, so I wouldn't have to go to cross country. She's giving us it off anyway! Urg, isn't that just the luck?

Jeremy is cute. I'll just adress this now that I think he's cute. He and some friends used to come to the gym during their break at summer school, and apparently they started coming because one thought I was hot. I don't know whether to be flattered or weirded out. He wasted his break to see me because he thinks I'm hot. But I'm all icky and sweaty and red-faced...? Well, I don't know. But Jeremy is cute, so I'm going to stay far far away. I have enough drama in my life, I don't need or want any more. However, Craig/Paco says that "there was definetly some mmhmuhuhyaaa going on with you two". Right....I'd have picked up on that.

I haven't called Joe or CJ. I don't know, I just kind of want to distance myself from everyone right now, I don't know why. I just feel like being a recluse. I'm making good use of my Aimster, since I don't think my brother is putting in the new hard drive anytime soon. At first I was reluctant to download LFO or BBMak songs (shut up I already explained my sick pop music mind to you) because I deleted them a long time ago when the big thing happened with CJ. I couldn't listen to them without crying, so I just deleted them so I wouldn't have to listen (he was the one that got me to start listening to BBMak). So...I didn't want to be all sad again about something so far in the past, and while I'm slightly nostalgic, I'm not on the verge of tears. However, I'm getting all lovey-dovey, but I don't want to call Joe. I know Fairie Chick says that I should, and I probably should, but...I don't know. He gives me a lot to think about.

I talked to S. today, and I kind of bitched her out and I feel bad...she was just talking about how she didn't want to get her Senior pictures taken because there were all these rules (nice attire, no t-shirts, dresscode, etc) and she was saying how that's not her, how she's an individual. And then she was talking about how kids were complaining about the yearbook and they shouldn't, because the yearbooks were already printed and they already bought them so nothing could be done, and complaining wouldn't make them better next year, tough cookies. And I was just like "well, don't complain about your senior portrait, you don't have to take them, it'll just be tough cookies". Because her complaining about it isn't going to make a difference. But to me that was like saying that since nothing's going to change, we shouldn't bother to fight it. It's like saying, hey, gays are already treated unfairly, us complaining isn't going to change it so if we don't like the way it is tough cookies, just kill yourself because you don't HAVE to live. We hung up shortly after that...

Oh my gosh! Anne was spotting me when I was bench pressing and afterwards I went to sit up and couldn't. She was standing on my hair!! Ouchies, that hurt.

*snarl* I hate it when my mom begs. mom "Want to run errands with me?" me: "Not really, I can barely walk" mom: "so stay in the car me: "Naw, I'll just hobble around the house" mom: "brittany, come oonnn" me: "no, I don't want to!" I put up with her crap for two weeks, and nothing good came of it. I figure maybe if I spend more time with her, while she chatters on and I gaze out the car window then maybe they'd loosen up. Nothing happened. I'm not going to give her my time if she's not going to give something back. I hate to sound bratty, but I don't like my mom, we don't get along, on half these expiditions we end up in a fight and for the next few days she goes back and forth from being an angry bitch to being a caring mom. No good comes of it, so it's pointless. Pixie

Snarly


let all the things you mean to me come tumbling out my mouth,
why everythings turned inside out theres still so much doubt it makes me so sad
- Bic Runga - Sway (the song at the end of American Pie when everyone is waking up)

It's 1:01 AM. I'm still awake. My alarm is set for 7:05. *snarl* I'm snarly right now, I just want to go grrr. I just want to go into my bed and find someone that loves me there and curl up with them, so even though I'm awake at dawn I'll have their arms wrapped around me. I'm lonely, I can't remember the last time I hugged someone. When was the last time I saw S.? I'm sure I hugged her then. I started a topic at Scarleteen, and apparently it was 'thought provoking' which makes me happy. Nothing better than a topic that makes people go 'wow!'. Well, nothing better in my head anyway. So...since I'm not on my bro's comp, I thought that I'd put my answers here. Basically, it's this. If you didn't have an actual body, just an aura (for lack of a better word), and you could only carry a few things with you, that would be other people's first impressions, what would you carry?

1 scent: Victoria Secret's Love Spell. It's kind of peachy mango-y
1 taste: the taste of blueberry Jelly Belly's
1 color: lavender
1 dream you had (as in, nocturnal): My dream about standing in the rain, when someone calls my name, I turn around and we run towards each other. We embrace, drawing warmth and strength from each other, they look at me and tell me that they love me.
1 aspiration you have: to make a difference in the lives of people
2 pictures: a picture I have of me, Jessy, and Fairie Chick, and my homecoming snapshot
2 memories: the one time when I was telling a few gay friends about how I was nervous about having sex with someone, and the other person wishing that I was someone else, and they looked at me in disbelief and asked me if I knew how beautiful I was. And at the end of the year party for dance troupe, we were all outside lying down on those big trampolines in one of our director's backyard, and we were all just talking and laughing. Even me and Meghan and Crystal, even though we weren't friends anymore. And the way the sky was blue/grey/green, full of clouds, and the way we watched the city lights twinkle on, but we were far away from the city and could actually breathe fresh air. Pixie

Monday, July 09, 2001

Just Fuck Me Up My Arse



It's 10:16, I'm awake. I feel oddly refreshed, that comes from taking a few hours nap, and I can't get back to bed. I only slept for...three hours tops, which means I've gotten 5 hours of sleep. Why, oh why, can't I have some Benadryl maybe? I feel like a fucking druggie...yeah, benadryl makes me sleep and caffiene pills keep me awake. But...nonetheless. I'm going to make myself sick if I don't start sleeping. I really am. Not to mention just naturally I don't eat that much (except, as Paco/Craig likes to remind me, when I get hungry, it's at the weirdest times), so I never have enough carbs and proteins and cals to keep me going. And now...no sleep...well, tomorrow I have cross country at 7 instead of 6...I don't know, maybe? God...this is so horrible.

And my bum is sore. This is horrible and terrible punishment. However, I did go to lunch with Paco/Craig, and it happened as per usual. We ate loads of fries and our drinks, and when our medium pizza came we ate....ONE slice, and that was it. I think the pizza guy was hitting on me, tee-hee. Craig decided that I'd make a good hooker, except that I'm giggly. And I'd probably start giggling mid-fuck. But hey, some people might like that, haha.

I'm really angry. When am I not? I go to goodvibes.com and they have a you have to be 21 to buy our crap so you may as well be 21 to look at our shit page, which i promptly ignore, but this makes me mad because I do want to purchase some...toys. But...I can't, because I'm too young. It's so stupid and silly I was like "wha...?" Of course I knew that before, but it never registered. See I'm a collector, and once I start getting stuff I like to have TONS of it. So...now I want tons of condoms and lubes and toys and stuff. Haha, wonder what my mom would say?

Ugh ugh I need to sleep!!!! Pixie PS: no hearing from Joe. I want to talk to him and complain and have tell me I'm a poor baby. If I had a mexican boyfriend he could call me porbrecita. However, I've only had one mexican boyfriend in all of my life...hmmm...

Exhaustion To The Point Of Collapsing Is Fun!



Honey-honey, are you okay? My fairie chick #1?
I just want to see you and Joe happy and together, okay?
- Fairie Chick
Well...I've outdone myself, I think. Two hours of sleep I got. Two hours and then I got up to go to cross country. First we did our high-knees and butt-kickers for warm-ups, then we ran a half mile, then we ran like I dont know, less than a quarter mile trying to take only one step in each sidewalk block (these were bigger than your average sidewalk) three or four times. Then we ran up and walked down this hilly thing 10 times, then we ran three times in this massive dirt thingamabobber where the bums yelled at us, and then we ran around the field some.

Absolute agony. Let me explain something about myself, I can't remember the last time I said the words "I can't". Dance troupe probably taught me that. Quitting is for weaklings and you work until you collapse, then you wipe the sweat off the floor and keep working. It's actually happened to me a few times. Just a combination of not enough sleep plus not enough food plus too much stress. We'd have a performance and I'd do fabula, but afterwards...I was gasping desperatly for air, but I felt deprived from oxygen, my face was flushed and my muscles were quivering. They poured cold water on me and it took me about a half hour to recovery. It only happened like...twice. But it happened again today. It was sooo horrible. Of course Ms. Allen (coach) is like "do you think you can do it?" and I can't say "no I can't". It's just not me. Like I said, I can't remember the last time I did that, so of course I did it. I sat out for one run-up on the hill, but I did the rest.

I think Ms. Allen understands this because she pulled me aside and told me if I had to take a break then it would be okay, just relax and slow down. And then I don't have to say those evil words. I can't do it What key is in those words? I don't know. Actually, I do remember the last time I said those words. It was before my second-to-last performance for dance troupe, I had a mental breakdown. But that's another story, for another time.

So I'm very happy with my coach. She knew there was something wrong when I stopped talking. She was my PE teacher last year and knows that I'm a chattery little pixie. She started to ask me questions to see if I had asthma but I don't. I'm like a camel, I go and go and go and out of no where I just collapse, I can't explain it. I don't know why. Maybe it has to do with the no food/no sleep thing.

Actually, I'm just very happy about the team in general. None of the boys showed up except for Paco/Craig, but Ashley and Heather did and they were super nice to me, as well as being incredibly funny. So...we'll see how this works out. I finished my hooker diaries...where will I spend my time now? I'm resisting the urge to sleep. I might be able to get to sleep at a decent hour if I don't go to sleep. But...what if I don't go to sleep at a decent hour? I still have to go running tonight, I sitll have to go to weight training tomorrow. Well honey-honey, I think I'll go now...
*I have smiled so hard that I couldn't stop
*I have had my hair caught up in a brush curling iron for half an hour
*I have gone through an uncountable amount of tights
*I still own my first pair of jazz shoes
*And my second
*And my third
*I have worked my feet extra hard in order to buy the new ballet shoes I wanted
*I have sweated until the tips of my hair was soaked (it's almost three feet long!)
*I have run until I thought my legs would explode
*I have felt my muscles quiver hours after I've stopped moving
*I have been called a whore when I walked into a store with my stage-makeup still on
*I have avoided makeup because I have worn so much stage-makeup
*I still cringe when I hear songs that I once danced too...because I know every lyric and pause and beat
*I know what it's like to wear three costumes at once and dance in them, in 110 weather, outside
*I know what it's like to stand on a stage, with the lights off, and the seats empty
*I've heard hundreds of people applaud as I slinked onto the stage
*I've had high school dance team directors ask if there was any chance I'd be going to their school
*I can put on LIQUID eyeliner on a moving bus
*I managed to lose only ONE part of a dance costume out of the 15 (??) costumes I've had
*I know what it's like to cry when you watch your dance team perform...and you're no longer on the team
*I know what it's like to stand in the audience and cheer on my younger dancers, my babies
*I know what it's like to try to cover up scars and open wounds for practice
*I know what it's like to wear curlers to school...many times
*I learned that some people are just mean
*I learned that some people let things get to their head
*I learned that no matter where you are or what you do, even on a middle school dance team, there is a heirarchy, and there is politics. If you don't fit into that world, then you have a lot to learn.

But does knowing and doing and learning all this make me a better person, or worse? Pixie

Mocha Frappuccino w/ 3 Shots Of Caffeine Please


I want to feel you, I need to hear you
You are the light, that's leaving me,
To the pain, where I find peace again
Lifehouse - Everything

I figure I out to say who I get my lyrics from. Well...I've thoroughly screwed up my almost-normal sleeping pattern, so..in the morning I know I'll need a good caffiene jumpstart. Because I have to wake up at 5:15 to be ready to run at 6am. I seriously think I'll make my dad stop by a Starbucks before I go to the gym...but drinking too much can make me feel sick. I just need some caffeine pills. Haha, I remember when I had a slight addiction to those. At the end of my little four days surviving on the pills and sourpunch, I was taking 6 pills every two hours. It was finals week, I needed to stay up and study. I needed to be awake to take the tests. I gave some to Fairy Chick...and as she put it "I took two and felt nothing, three and I felt dizzy and shaky, four and I felt hyper and dizzy". So, at the end of my little stint I was taking 6 every two hours. You see why I don't do hard drugs? I have such an addict personality. I knew that the pills were bad for me, I did extensive research on them. I was dizzy, falling down stairs, blacking out, and my heart rate was up to 140. My resting heart rate is 68. It's the strangest feeling in the world when your heart starts to beat irregularily. So, no caffiene pills for me. Well...maybe I'll just take a peak into the cabinet to see if we have any more.

I have two new obsessions. One is mehndi. I had a small menhdi obsession before, but it left me when the powder ran out. However...lately I've been searching for designs and copying them down into my jounral. I'll probably buy some mehndi soon and plead one of my friends for the use of their body. I'm actually pretty good at it. Actually, I'm really good at it. I can't really do things free-lance, but if you have a pattern or design set for me I can copy it almost perfectly, and add my own little flair. I want to get myself a dictionary of Kanji charecters, since those seem to be pretty popular, plus they're cool and easy, but I can't seem to find one online. If you happen to know a good website, e-mail me.

My second obsession is the diary of a hooker. I should explain myself...when I was like, 12 years old I found www.smileandactnice.com and one part explored non-traditional jobs (piercer, tatoo artist, dominatrix, etc...) and I read about being a dominatrix, and decided that that would be something I'd absolutely adore doing. How many 12 year olds do you know that wanted to be a dominatrix? (Keep in mind I've always been a sexual person. I started looking at nekkid pictures on the net when I was 10, and had my first orgasm when I was 11. Which makes me laugh since I have a friend who is 17, has 'hooked up' with over 56 guys in the past..6 (?) months, and she's *never* had an orgasm. Silly girl, so keep all this in mind as I continue my little story). And ever since then I've had a desire to work in the sex industry. I have no doubt I'd be good. I seem to have the face and body that older men like. I almost wish I was older, because people my age don't think I'm *that* pretty or have *that* cute of a body. But older men (say, 30's and 40's) find me pretty attractive. I'm a resourceful gal, and have a good financial head on my shoulders. But..my desire to be involved in the sex industry isn't my second obsession. I just have an obsession with the industry on a whole. And one of my favorite websites (www.salon.com) has catered to my needs. Unfortunatly I didn't find this because it was in the Body and Health section, whereas I stay firmly rooted in the Sex section. And here you can read the (fictional) diary of a hooker.

So...I think I'll spend the rest of my little night reading this :D And tomorrow I'm scheduled to have lunch with Craig and his cousins. Craig (aka: Paco, I forget which name I use in this blog) and I have always had this desire to be evil. Think...Cruel Intentions evil. And while I make a great Katherine, Craig lacks the pizaz of being a Sebastion. But that doesn't stop us from enjoying screwing with people. So...tomorrow his good good innocent cousins are coming with us to lunch, and I'll wear my fuck-me boots, and my little bondage skirt, and it'll be an all around good time. However, I'm supposed to refrain from talking about my adventures with S. (we think that would be *too* over the top) which is a bummer because I want to talk to him about it. Well...I'll think of something. Like I said, I'm a resourceful gal. Pixie
No smartass, I'm not obsessed with sex, although I know once I have it I will be, so perhaps that's why I like to mantain my virginity for now. I can't afford all the condoms/dental dams I'd go through

Sunday, July 08, 2001

The worst thing about being me, is that when I become upset I can't sleep. I become very cold and hungry and thirsty and I'm almost afraid to go to sleep. However it's 2am right now...and I've been shorting myself on sleep for the past week, so now I have to face my fears and lie in my bed. Wish me luck.

Angry and Miserable and Sad and Afraid


it shouldn't hurt me to be free
A tear slips out of my eye, as hard as I tried to hold it back, it slowly snaked it's way down my face, landing on my lips, leaving behind it's salty taste - me

I'm tired, and I'm miserable, and I'm angry. I just realized how much I sicken myself. I was talking to my uncle, just about life in general and my parents and my whole situation here. And we were talking about whether or not my parents would let me stay the night at S's house. Just how no matter which one I ask I'm screwed, and my best bet is to ask them when they're together, but they'll probably say no anyway. And I brought up how I might spend the night at Fairy Chick's house with Jessy this weekend, if my parents say yeah, and we started talking about how they'd say no. "Threesome would be written all over their faces". Just because they think I'm a whore or something.

And then he was saying how I should make up an e-mail adress and make sure they could read it and write all this shit about how I've slept with more than 50 guys and 30 girls and how I've already had two abortions and blah blah, and I'm like no way they'd never let me go out again. My uncle asked me when was the last time I went out (without my mom in the vicinity). Well...a week before last tuesday I went to Fairy Chick's house after cross country, but...maybe three weeks ago, I went to the mall with S. And I was like "so I don't go out, at least I get to go on the phone and computer and stuff." What the fuck!?

Since when is being allowed to use the phone and go on the computer seen as a privilige? Since when did I start deciding that it's okay for my parents to treat me how they do. I've gone out TWICE in the past month. My brother's gone out countless times, and every single time came home after midnight. Sometimes with people my parents have never met, sometimes coming home four hours late, and it hasn't been a problem. It's so unfair. And I'm so sick of this, I'm sick of being treated like a dog in heat that needs to be caged, I'm sick of my brother being allowed to do whateve he wants, I'm sick of deciding that it's okay for my parents to treat me how they do. I'm sick of not being angry with my dad for sitting back and watching my mom treat me this way. I'm sick of him not being a part of my life. I'm sick of sitting in front of the computer crying and no one asking me what's wrong. I'm sick of hating myself and what I've done because my mom decided that that wasn't up to her standards so they shouldn't be up to mine either. I'm just so angry and I hate myself. I hate myself for not doing anything about it. And even if I did knowing that I'm powerless and I'd just be punished.

I'm just tired of living. And this makes me afraid, afraid of myself. I'm afraid I'm going to do something to myself...something permanent. I'm afraid to feel my emotions, because when that happens I know I'll want to do something bad. I want to be a cutter again, I want to be able to cut and not have to feel anything and not have to worry about killing myself. But I don't want to cut. And I don't want to live. I'm just so sick of the way the world works. Pixie