Saturday, July 27, 2002: I feel very optimistic and depressed at the same time. Both for two very different reasons, though. I got my application to MIT in the mail today. I was looking over their viewbook and the college looks so diverse, so cultural, so much fun. I can't believe that, at this time next year, I will be buying dorm room supplies. It really is depressing that I have to grow up all of a sudden. I am so worried that I won't live up to everyone's expectations, that I'll fail miserably and end up living the rest of my life in the room that I supposedly grew up in. I hate being treated like a child, however, I often love acting like one. I want perfection. I want to go to the best school there is and get the best grades. I want to join the best most popular sororities and clubs and lead everyone to success. I want to play the most sports and lead everyone in talent and physical arder. I need to be perfect. What other alternative is there? To be as I am now? I have no willpower. I need to motivate myself to stay on track. To keep my goal in mind. To keep that perfect image burning inside my brain to help me on my way. I want so much to be beautiful and accepted and loved. New to this world. I feel like I've joined a new sisterhood, a new secret society where everyone knows your name and they worry when they don't hear from you. Saturday, July 20,2002: I think it is a good idea. Apparently, I am supposed to be either anorexic or bulimic, according to the experts on the internet. I was also supposed to be abused, apparently. Well, I wasn't abused, but I sure as hell am finding an appeal to the sound of being thin, I mean, I'm not attractive as I am now, so maybe if I change a little, I could be, maybe. In my position right now, at this moment, I think that people that are close to you, who are perfectly normal, who aren't suffering from the same insane continuous drone of your own life, have absolutely no idea, no matter how many words are said, can possibly even fathom a bit of what you're going through, let alone support you in your crusade. I need to set goals, set limits, find my courage, my moxie, and, yes, my willpower, which as of now, I haven't any. I know that it is extremely difficult to make any radical change in one's life, but I need to do something. It's like my mind is just getting more and more rotten, when will it end? I feel good one minute, then sick and depressed the next. I think cigs are the best invention in the world. I had one tonight and it had to be just about the best one I've ever had. EVER. Still can't believe I'm getting buzzes off of LIGHTS! I just don't know what I want anymore. I feel hopeless. I can't keep up with my academic demands, my own demands, my own expectations. I just can't live with myself if I can't be the best, or at least one of the best, or at least somewhat good and talented. That's all I have. People just don't understand that. My grades are so vitally important, I can't settle for something less than the best. That's all I have. I'm not gorgeous, I'm not extremely athletically gifted, I'm not the socialite, I don't have anything to take my mind off of my grades, something else to focus on, like a boyfriend, something to allow myself not to care so much, to let everything go and relax. I can't relax. I want to go home. It's so refreshing knowing that there are people out there that are just like me, that are going through the same shit that I am, that are doing the same things that I am, that feel the same way that I do. Friday, July 19, 2002: I don't know what to do. I think recent events have really thrown me off my rocker. This whole summer has been just a disaster. First, there was the disaster with Mr. You Know Who. Just another account of my constant rejection. Then, there was the whole Calculus grade thing. Still shocked that I got a B. A B. I am still horrified of the first day of school when I have to walk in that Calculus class. How will I ever live that down? I told most of the people in my class that I was already taking it, so I didn't have to take it like they did, I was taking it in COLLEGE. And now, here I come, a failure, with my tail between my legs, too ambitious to settle for something other than the best, even if the best is expensive, impossible, and, yes, even sometimes a little humiliating. I mean, how can I hold up in an ivy league school if I can't even get one stupid little A in a community college class? Ok, then there's the whole deal with the AP Exams. I'm surprised I kept most of my composure. Yes, there were tears shed. It's just devastating when you know what you're capable of, when you think you did well, and then, you just flop. You get stuck holding the bag. Especially when you work so hard, so much time and effort. People say that grades aren't everything, that people are worth much more than a GPA or a letter, but when that's all you have to base your entire world on, I think they're worth plenty. I mean, if I didn't always have to be so damn conscientious all the time, then I could so settle for that B, but I can't. I just can't. I can't even explain it. Oh my gosh, what would I do if I don't make volleyball captain this year? I don't even want to think about it. So I have high expectations for myself. Extremely high. It's my downfall, my Achilles heel. I always saw myself heading off to an ivy league college, and that I would never ever go to a state college, it was just so normal, I craved something more, something extraodinary, so that people would take notice and say, "My, how that young girl has taken off, and how well she will become." Not, "Oh, there goes another one, off to get drunk for four years of her life, waste her parents' money and come back home with her tail between her legs without a direction in her head as to where she's going in life." I can't help but feel like a failure. Everyone thinks I'm smart, but I'm not. I don't know how I pull some of the grades that I do. One day, they will figure out that I am NOT intelligent, and that I am just a lost, confused dumb brunette with no money to buy her way into a good college, not a single original, or sane for that matter, thought in her head, and a self-esteem lower than the Hidden Valley. Monday, July 8, 2002: Well, to say the least, my prince charming turned out to be not so charming...after all. All I've been able to do the past few days is wonder where I went wrong, what I've done to receive such a punishment, and listen as his definitive words ring in my ears. Sleep is like a shooting star, fleeting and impossible to grasp, wishing that I could hold and keep it, yet at the same time, wanting it to keep its distance. I've been questioning everything that I've ever believed in, every moral that I have kept, both large and small. All I can do is wonder why I am so different, why I must be shunned and ignored, why I am not worth a second of anyone's time. To be quite honest, I haven't the answer, and neither can I think of a time in my future that I may measure up to society's weighty expectations of conformity. I realize at last, after nearly five years of trying to find my place among my peers, that in truth, I haven't one; and in fact, I belong in a nonexistent place among them, there, but, conveniently, not. My friends think that I have found a relativity between us, but in reality, I feel even more alienated from them since the Fourth. Yes, I can relate to his problems, but can he seriously relate to mine? I feel so out of reach, beyond help sometimes. I mean, I listen to the things that he tells me, but when I think about my past and my present situations, it makes him look like a model person, perfect really. I mean, most of his more serious actions were a few years ago, as mine were a few months ago. His wounds heal in a matter of days, no signs of scarring, while mine take weeks to heal and scars disgrace my skin for months, even years. How did I ever get to be like this? It's scary, yet all the same comforting almost. I can't even begin to fathom the fact that in about five years, I will be beginning to look for a husband, someone that I can share every aspect of my life with for the entire time that I am to grace this earth. From where I stand at this very moment, it seems rather impossible, needless to say, I haven't the faintest idea where anyone could come off saying that they actually love me and want to share their life with me. ME. Why would someone want to waste their life on me? Waste their time, really. I'd probably just break down and fall ill with some absolutely horrid disease that kills its prey slowly and painfully, just so that my family, that is if I have one, can watch me suffer and I can leave them to themselves. I keep thinking back to the fireworks on the fourth of July. I had never realized it had been so bad, just because I never had anyone to actually shove it down my throat. To tell me that I needed help. I don't, I am fine, I am simply in denial, which is not only a river in Egypt. Everyone in the corporate world now has a regular therapist. I just can't bring myself to become one of those people who are so stressed out that they need to rampage things and rely on the help of some stranger who is PAID to listen to you rant about your problems. In a way, this site is my therapist. I can get things off my chest, although most times they aren't always complete thoughts because I do need to censor the stuff on here mostly, so I don't hurt any feelings and what not. Wow, talk about turning over a new stone! I am actually tired! And ready to sleep! And it's only 12:30 AM! Not 2:30! 12:30!!! It's so early! Eh, I'm not complaining, I'm exhausted. I have been extremely sleep deprived for a few weeks. I need my beauty rest because, apparently, I am not attractive enough for anyone in particular. Friday, July 5, 2002: Have come to the realization that food helps all feel better, all your troubles go away, and you can forget about everything. Food is greatness. I have decided to eat away everything that's bothering me. I have finished off a pint of Edy's Sorbet (really, really good ice cream that is fat free!), three marshmallow ice cream cones, a Nerd's rope, and a small loaf of bread. Plain bread never tasted so good. I didn't get to sleep until after four this morning, but I woke up after eleven. Yeah. Well, it looks like I'm hunkering down for another early morning. I guess this entry is actually July 6th, but what the hell, you know, I'm being a rebel. It scares me that I am addicted to something over which I have no control. No matter what the circumstances, I will always revert back to this. I hate it. It's been almost five months. No problems. And now, it's like I'm starting all over again. I thought I was all better. I was going to be okay. And now? Now I don't know what's going on. I feel like I'm losing control over my own actions. Thank God I was never totally addicted to smoking. I guess I've been doing okay with that, you know, the whole quitting deal. But my motivation has been out of town for a week! What am I supposed to do? What if he doesn't like me? Will I start smoking again? I don't know, yet. I am scared, yet, I don't think anyone can totally and completely understand me enough to help me. But, don't take me the wrong way-this is NOT, I repeat, NOT a cry for help. It's funny, I feel depressed as hell, but I don't feel suicidal at all. Haha, funny. Psych ward joke, I guess. I don't want any help, actually, I feel fine. I want people to ignore it just like me. Follow the leader, you can play if you follow the rules. I guess the thing that pisses me off about people asking me if I want "help" or whatever the hell you want to classify it as, is that if they acknowledge it, and I accept their offer, or even if I don't, them even asking, is like acknowledging the fact that everything is wrong with me. I hope I don't suffer like this when I'm an adult. I want to be able to raise good, caring children, and not traumatize them by exposing them to all this shit. But then again, I guess I was never really exposed to any of this either. Maybe it's fucking genetic. Maybe that's why my mom didn't fucking want me. Whew-where the hell did that come from? OMG, I have been harboring some serious shit. I don't know, maybe if my mom now had known that I would turn out so screwed up despite everything good that they have given me, she probably wouldn't want to have to deal with this either. Good choice, real mom, wherever the fuck you are. Thursday, July 4, 2002: After the Fireworks I am so confused right now. My entire group of best friends had, well, basically, a break down. Maybe a breakthrough. I'm not a very public person when it comes to my problems and I just don't like telling people my shit, you know, stuff that's bothering me, problems that I have. My motto is that if you want to know it, you have to drag it out of me. There's a lot of personal stuff that happened tonight, so I won't detail. I feel like I drug everyone down tonight. I was in kind of a bad mood when I met up with them, I felt kind of ignored. No one even opened the door for like five minutes after I knocked. I just feel expendible, ignorable. And I tolerate it, just because I don't know what else to do. I'm so cried out this week, I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. It's not even one yet and I have to get up at 7:30 AM to go to swim practice. I've had a week off and I really need to get back into the swing of things. I can't wait to get back to the gym tomorrow. I really need to run and work out to help me escape everything that's bothering me. I have so much on my mind, everything just makes me so sad. I hate that feeling. I like to feel tough, like people can lean on me, and I don't always have to lean on others. I want to be the strong one. I had to keep telling myself not to cry in the car. I really hate crying in front of people. I realized tonight as I poured my deepest secrets into the ears of one of my close friends, that I keep a lot of stuff bottled up inside. I never talk about it to anyone, and only certain people can drag it out of me, maybe one or two, tops. I'm so convinced that nothing is wrong with me, but really, inside, everything is falling apart, and no one can see that. Every one is always focused on someone else of higher importance, of greater value. Although don't get me wrong, I don't want to be the center of attention at all, I like not having my business drug out in front of people for them to ogle at it, and to judge me because of it. I don't feel sick, I don't want their help, I want to help other people, help them to talk it out, help them feel better. I've lived with this for as long as I can remember, I almost need it. I couldn't imagine living without it. I feel like everything wants to come up to the surface, but the tears won't come. I'm not one of those people that can talk about their problems and feel better about it. I talked to one of my friends about some stuff and it just made me feel even worse. Probably the worst I've felt in a long time. It's not that I don't want him to be able to talk to me about stuff, I like that he can trust me enough to tell me stuff like that, but it all just made me realize some things that I would have otherwise been able to handle, put into perspective, bury inside where no one can find it, not even me. Thursday, July 4, 2002: Happy Independance Day! Have you ever had that feeling when you are so mad that you just want to punch something and you just end up bawling your eyes out? Well, that was me last night. I just felt like going to the gym and running all my fears and troubles away. When I run, it's like I forget everything, and I can just focus on running and working out. I think I realized last night how horrible a friend I am. I always kind of saw myself as that lost best friend that no one wanted before, that if only someone gave me a chance, I could be a really great best friend. However, now that I have gotten that chance, I find myself to be somewhat standoffish, selfish, and totally dependant, that is, I use my friends to prop myself up mentally. It's like my stories don't have happy endings. I am merely a lost selfish, horrible friend who tries to turn all of her own misfortunes and flaws onto other people. I just want to glue a sign to my head that says, "Sorry," even if it's in advance, because it will probably be needed soon. I don't deserve my friends, if I can still call them that. I don't know if I can even be comfortable around them again, at least any time soon. I am having so many breakdowns and crisises in my life right now, between my best friend, her boyfriend, my ultimate exclusion, my crush, and my crusher. Why must my life be so complicated? I watched Kate and Leopold last night, and he said that in his custom, if a man wanted to court a woman, he must tell her so, in writing. That is such a great idea! All men should do that because that would make up for so many misunderstandings and miscommunications, and it would make life so much less complicated. I can't wait for him to come back from Ocean City, I think he gets back tomorrow. I'm going to wait until Saturday to call him though, just so he can get settled in and all. I just want to call him just so he can finally tell me that he doesn't like me so that I can assume my position as universal friend. I mean, he's basically, well, perfect. Yes, I know he has his flaws, and my friends don't think he's perfect, but he's all I've ever wanted, so that's basically why he wouldn't want me. Universal LAW. It's like it can never be mutual. If I have a good time, he doesn't. Why? I don't know how it's all supposed to work. I just want the school year to start so I can go back to being a social misfit and spend my lunchtimes in the library and just jump into my work and forget everything that happened this summer. I think that I am beginning to start a tradition. Every summer, horrible things happen that I just want to forget about. Although, most of the time, it isn't that easy. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, it is a national holiday! Whoo-hoo! YAY! Par-tay! Eh, nah, not really, but I wish it was! Haha! No, I'm just kidding. Shout out to all my readers-have a great Fourth! Wednesday, July 3, 2002: I am definitely turning anti-technology. I had typed in this really long profile, then my computer decided to kick me offline, so to say the least, I lost my profile, in all it's greatness, therefore, if you have my AIM screen name, which by the by is mks182, you are now stuck with an utterly pitiful one. I was reading over some of my other entries, and I wanted to update you all on my current situation and thoughts on those situations. About the guy last summer, haha, umm, I am so definitely, totally over him. This is not only because I am now in the midst of being rejected by someone else (you know, refocusing my attention to him), but also somewhat due to the fact that he has a girlfriend now, and oh yeah, the fact that I just don't think of him like that. At least I have some consolation. But, it's so shallow that I won't share. LoL. My deal with this summer's guy? Right now, not much. I am still in the midst of waiting, waiting for his real answer and at the same time, waiting for him to come back from Ocean City, where he is probably hooking up with at least five girls right now. Eh, maybe he's actually thinking of me, thinking of us? Is there even an us of which I can speak? Maybe all of those ocean sounds and sights will remind him of me, and our time spent together. Haha, Boardwalk fries, the Zipper, boogie-boarding...LoL. I kind of miss him. Am I trying to move too fast? I think that's what's wrong with me. Whenever I discover that I like a guy, I always try to jump right in instead of letting it take its course, giving him time to fall for me too, I guess, if that's possible. Although, I kind of think that this time that we're apart is good for us, that is, if he's missing me as much as I am missing him. Feel like Bridget Jones right now, only somewhat less graceful, if that's even possible. She ends up caught in between two guys. Why do I feel like her? I invited my friend from work out with my other friends last night, and we ended up renting movies and he's picking me up to go over his house tonight to watch them. I kind of get the feeling that he likes me, only I feel bad because I don't really like him like that, and it's frustrating because I don't have a straight answer from my other man-friend, even though I don't know why. I feel bad because I feel like I'm leading him on. But he knows about Ocean City guy, he knows how I feel about him, or at least as much as I've told him, which isn't much. I think he was trying to conform to my vision of OC guy because then he started opening doors for me and stuff like that. Oh God, just remembered I told him that he opened the car door for me when we went out last friday. I hope he doesn't try to open the car door for me today. So embarressing! Right in front of my parents! Aaah! Tuesday, July 2, 2002: I am exhausted. I don't know why, though. It's not like I did anything today. Oh yeah, I went to the gym. YAY! I love the gym. Going there makes me feel strong and beautiful. I don't know why, I always come out looking tired and sweaty. Very sweaty. I mean, wouldn't you feel victorious for having just completed a strenuous workout? I bicycled for ten minutes, ran for fifteen at 6.5 mph and did a cooldown, and rowed for ten minutes. Today was the first day that I have done any physical conditioning since, well, lacrosse. I have decided to take this week off from swimming, although I will probably end up going Thursday morning. I kind of miss it. I am so psyched for lacrosse, even though I have almost a year until season starts. But I was at the gym and I saw that the College had a girls' lax camp. $95 isn't that bad. It sounds like fun, and it's in the beginning of August, so I'll be all conditioned and ready to go for the first day of volleyball, which by the by, will be easy. Haha, ok, now I'm started. This season's prospects are really pissing me off because our coach, whom I have had the pleasure to work with for two years of my high school career, is moving to freaking New York City! My senior year! Ok, that's kind of selfish. But, now we're stuck with the old JV coach, who has never played a day in her life and has only coached one year. Ok, so it will be me and Dina coaching the girls' volleyball team, oh yeah, and our coach. I'll teach the setters and Dina can teach the hitters. I am kind of excited about this season though. (Ok, I'm finished blowing off steam now...) I mean, it's my turn now to be the senior that the freshmen look up to. When I was a freshman, my sports role model was my friend Olivia. She was a Varsity captain and she kind of took me under her wing when I started struggling under my huge workload plus sports practice. Another thing was that she played all the same sports as me, swimming and lacrosse, in addition to volleyball. So, what I'm trying to say is that I really looked up to her when I was a freshman, and now that's going to be me. Kind of neat, to be looked up to, someone's role model. I think Olivia was in the top five too, ok, just a blank thought. LoL. I was driving around tonight, my best friend had to be in at nine. And I just drove aimlessly around Bel Air, taking time to think and pick apart everything that has been troubling me. I'm not as bitter as I was Sunday night. Definitely. I think I was just kind of standoff-ish because I was having a panic attack, so to speak. I mean, it's not like he flat out turned me down, although he probably will after he reads all this stuff I wrote about him...LoL. But it was almost as though it was putting the stamp of recognition on my self-confidence certificate of death, simply confirming all those things that I had told myself but my best friend denied for me. She tells me that there's nothing wrong with me, but there must be. How else could I drive away the herds of the opposite sex? Yes, it is likely, as I have noted before, it must be the scent. They're like hounds, picking up that strong smell of fear, of my extreme lack of self-confidence. None of this is his fault, so don't feel guilty, although I seem to make it all fall on his head, but it's only me expressing my case of self-pity and insecurities. I think he's pretty much oblivious to all of the chaos that he's caused in my mental infrastructure, which is settled again now. Haha, he's probably going to think that I am crazy beyond repair, beyond any possibility of conformity. I'm really not, I can be that perfect person, if I tried, if someone wanted me to be. Oh, yeah, and to all of those who do not know, I have finally, and permanently, put out that cigarette butt that is so ugly. Now, I'm kicking ass again in lacrosse and running, and finally, I am able to breathe again. I'm glad that I finally did it, that I had the strength and motivation to put it down. I am going on two weeks smoke-free. It is hard at some times though because my best friend smokes, usually around me, but I have been able to resist, at most times. :) I'm not feeling very witty tonight. Have I lost my cynical touch? I hope not. Monday, July 1, 2002: Am feeling much better now. I now realize how ridiculous it was for me to be so upset by yesterday's events. Very much overreacted. I feel bad for him though. He thinks that I am not only mad at him, but also was talking about him in the back of the car on the ride home (which I was, but in a good way, not a bad way). I didn't even get to say goodbye last night which sort of catapulted the whole crying on my best friend's shoulder thing. Very embaressing. So, anyway, I was thinking last night after I got home. And I remembered that he moved slowly with girls (advantage for having friends with the inside scoop!) and that maybe his "I don't know" answer to my very brave question was his way of moving slow. I mean, he didn't say it mean, he said it like he was actually thinking about it. And that's a good thing. I mean, most of the guys that I ever had an active interest in have some sort of major flaw that just could not be ignored. Like last summer, the guy that I liked had a huge un-ignorable ego. Very conceited. Very, very annoying. LOL. However, after his rejection, it took me two days of crying, and over six long months to heal all the way. I mean, it was my first serious, personalized rejection. Of course it would take me a while. Now, I am very impressed by the way that I healed up from this one. About an hour of crying tops, then I am feeling good and optimistic this morning. Last night, I just couldn't stop thinking about how great he was. Now, I know I haven't known him that long, but he was pretty much everything I was looking for in a guy all wrapped into one. He was pretty cute, tall, smart, athletic (in his own water sort of way), built, and easy to talk to. Oh, yeah, and don't forget fun to be with because that IS a major part in the whole relationship thing. I was so pathetic when I went to ask him, well, basically, out. I was standing there next to him, in the middle of the freaking boardwalk. We were waiting for everyone to get ready to leave. I knew that I wasn't going to get any privacy in the car with him, and the other four people that were sharing the five seats. So, I just kept thinking, I have to tell him while we're alone. I have to...because otherwise I will never have the courage to actually say this to him ever again. We were alone, I took the plunge. I said that this was awkward for me, and that it would probably be awkward in the car too, which it was, and then I said that I had a nice time on friday and that if he ever wanted to do again sometime that might be nice. As soon as I said it would be awkward, he gave me that damn look with the twinkle in his eye, like he knew what I was going to say but he wanted to put me through the torture of actually hearing me say it. God, the last time that that happened, the guy actually told me that he wanted me to come out and say it. Again, notice the conceited nature. Anyway, he just said, "I don't know." I was like, uh, ok. But he didn't say it mean or anything, but he gave me sort of a half smile, I guess to keep me on my toes. Haha, well, it worked. I felt like someone punched me in the stomach and then ripped out my heart. Well, maybe not that graphic, but I did feel like I got punched and I was suddenly nauseated. He said it must be the heat. I was just like, you have no idea. And he really doesn't. Honestly. He has no idea that he hurt me last night, no idea that I'm not mad at him, just frustrated with his fear of commitment. Damn men and their fear of commitment. Well, actually, they just suck. Well, anyway, it was awkward as hell in the car. Imagine just telling the guy of your dreams that you like him very much and then having to share one car seat with him in very cramped quarters for three hours. Haha...no. So, when we got home, I went in to change my clothes and pull up my hair because I thought that we were all going out and I didn't want to look like crap when I was out with him. But I had this sinking feeling when I came out of the house and he was already gone. He didn't even say goodbye to me. I later found out that he thought I was pissed at him. Very opposite. Even though all that stuff happened yesterday, I still feel the same way about him, only I feel kind of hopeless, like I'm working toward an unrealistic goal, without any way of triumph, no prize, no trophy. I don't know anymore. I don't know what's going on in his head any more than he knows what's pulsing through mine. So, to wrap up this extremely long entry, just wish me luck that maybe one day I'll find another lost soul to embrace and comfort and finally be loved. Sunday, June 30, 2002: Am doomed to spinsterdom for the rest of life. It is so sad, yet perplexing that I will live the rest of my life alone, confused, and rejected. Every guy that I decide that I truly like being with, and I tell them how I feel, always ends in heartbreak, that is, for me. I thought this time was going to be different. Really. I mean, the way he looked at me when we were alone, the little sparkle in his eye when he said something funny, even the way he walked. And, of course, the way he allowed me to subject him to bodily harm just for the sake of conforting me. I thought Friday went fairly great. Today, not so great. I think our trip to OC has made me like him more and him like me less. I feel like I'm forcing something on him that he doesn't want. Ok, feeling a tad better. Just deleted his cell phone number out of my cell. Definite must for road to recovery. I just get this enormous sinking feeling that I blew it with him. Please, God, take away this guilt! Thursday, June 27, 2002: I suppose that I am the ideal picture of the most incredibly sad, hopeless, depressed creature on this earth. Once again, I am wide-eyed and bushy-tailed at 1:49 AM, just beginning another hopelessly romantic british film. Tonight, it's Notting Hill. That was last night, too, but I fell asleep after about ten minutes. Tonight was also the second night that I read A Walk to Remember, which has to be about the saddest book ever written and makes me bawl my eyes out every time I read it, which has been twice so far. It's like my heart is bleeding for something, something more than what I hope for, something more than what I've gotten so far, which is nothing, something more than what I will get. My hopes are not high, the many blows that I have received has lowered my expectations on love and life, so I know what I can expect. I hate it when I end up sounding so pathetic, but I really hate it when I am telling the most absolute truth, you know, that truth that you like to lie to your friends about. I feel terrible, I haven't gotten a good night's rest in over a week, and tonight is the second night in a row that I haven't been able to sleep before 3AM. I hate being a teenager. I despise that word. Whoever coined that term should be shot. I just wish that middle-age would get here faster so that I can end up alone, half-eaten by wild dogs, instead of just dragging it out and making it even more horrid. The book I've been reading, A Walk to Remember, has made me come to realize that true love, no matter how long you keep it, as long as you experience it, must be the most treasured thing in life, and life without it just isn't living. It only makes me more despondent reading because I can't experience anything like that. That I will always be dead, in a sense, even if not in the physical sense, but in the soul-sense. I feel only half-alive. I have good friends, good family, all-around good life and good prospects for my future. In Jamie's case, the girl in the book, she is, well, a dork. And Landon, the boy who falls in love with her, is able to look past all of that, eventually, and falls in love with who she is, not what other people think about her. That's what I wish someone could do, not that I am an incredibly unpopular dork, but still, I'm not the same person inside that I convey to people. The most pathetic thing is that I think I could make a really good girlfriend too. I mean, I'm not a total waste of 110 lbs of flesh, in other words, I don't think I look half bad, I'm not a total bitch, or at least all of the time, I have this immense need to care for someone, to be able to take care of them when they are sick or feeling down. Plus, I am smart, or at least I'm supposed to be, athletic, and not afraid to fall down once in a while. Oh God, this is beginning to sound like a personals ad. Not exactly what I was going for. But what I can't understand is why every other fat, ugly girl can get someone to fall in love with them, but no one can ever take a chance on me. I think it all reverts back to the smelling thing. They can smell it on me, like dogs and fierce animals and fear. They smell the fear and the total lack of confidence. I would like to have ended with something witty, or at least written something witty, but it's way too early in the morning and I am way too depressed to slam on anything right now. Sunday, June 23, 2002: Well, things have gone smoothly so far, in terms of my relationship crisis I detailed in my previous entry. I saw him again yesterday during one of our glorious early morning Saturday meets at 7 AM. It's early morning stuff like that (and morning practice at 8AM) that make me feel like a real, hardcore swimmer. So anyway, it's so weird that we have this nearly violent past, but he's able to put that into the past, and not let it affect our fresh new start. I mean, we're both all for a totally platonic relationship, I think, and I am very impressed by the fact that he has matured enough to forget about it all. Maybe he hasn't though, maybe he is thinking some of the same thoughts that I am, about what happened last year. Maybe I'm just blowing it all out of proportion. That's it. I'm anxious about this summer, but then again, I want to just relax, you know, be able to not care about him at all. Which is getting easier since he isn't as fit as he used to be and still thinks he is, not to mention the fact that he cut his hair really short and it isn't very flattering for his head. So, the image that I, consequently, fell in love with, so to speak, has, uh, melted away into the foundations. It is strange, though. He's been nicer to me than he has when we first started hanging out. He still has his quirks though. Those strange things that some people just can't say goodbye to, that maybe they should. I think it has to do with his devout habit of tuning into Dr. Drew and Adam Corolla on HFS every night at 10 PM. Yes, I believe that does have something to do with the odd, often very strange things he does. Other than that, no other explanation possible. Does it sound like I still like him? Is that even a possibility? I hope not. It's been a long year and I would like to think that it has been somewhat productive, that I haven't forgotten him for nothing. Hopefully, I won't have to forget him all over again. Thursday, June 20, 2002: Alright, the near worst, most dreaded day of my year has finally passed, almost without a hitch. I guess that if you have read through the archives, you may have noticed that I had an "incident" with an ex-friend of mine last summer. Well, last night was the first time that I have seen him since that extremely awkward time, a year ago. FUN FUN!! I tried my hardest to avoid him as much as I could, but I think it was impossible since we are friends with the same people on the team. It sucked. So, I talked to the people that he wasn't, as not to have any conversational conflicts with him. Well, if I wasn't up for any verbal exchange, I surely wasn't ready for any physical contact whatsoever. He actually put me on the spot, so to speak, and put his hand up in the air, expecting a "good luck" high-five. Like he needs it. His ribbons are all unicolor-blue-first place. Okay, now I've gotten myself started. I really need to trim my fingernails, they're getting so long, I can't hardly type! So, anyway, back to my story, I had to give him a high five, which meant touching his hand. Oh God. I had to do it, all of our friends were standing around watching, what was I supposed to do? Ignore him? Argh! I am so ready to chew these damn things off! So, we end up at Burger King after the meet and I sat at a table near some of my friends, they wanted me to pull up a chair, but I decided to start my own "special" table that was back to back to theirs. So, he comes over and sits across from me. Not that there wasn't any hesitation on his part, though. He knows I am friends with his closest guy friend on the swim team, so he suspected that it would be ok if he sat with us. He practically hunted him down and drug him over to the table. However, I was not only graceful, but charmingly amusing, if I may say so myself. I joked around, then asked him what he'd been up to. COLLEGE. It's not a big deal to me. I had known he'd been accepted to UMBC last year when he told me. College isn't that big a deal to me, I mean, I go to college for Godsakes! Plus high school. So I get the perks of both. He thinks he's such great stuff just because he is sixteen and living a college life, hanging with an older crowd, etc. etc. Narcissism, clearly. (See following entry for philosophy on narcissism.) That's one of the things I hate about him. He talks down to the rest of us normal seventeen year olds like we were just born yesterday and have no idea of how the world works. I guess he thinks he is mature and, therefore, must date a much older woman or whatever. My question is, what eighteen-nineteen year old normal college student in their right minds would ever go out with a sixteen year old who never went to high school, has never had a long term relationship, or practically any serious relationship at all? Well, all I can say is that I certainly wouldn't, not with all the cute twenty-somethings running around who happen to be so hot! Ok, am definitely beginning to sound like seventh-grade note to best friend. I say all these things...I don't think I'm jealous. I think he does have a girlfriend, miraculously and what not. I caught myself, once or twice, and that's it, I promise. Thinking about what may or may not have happened, what could happen now, what is actually going to happen. I totally ruined my vision of that night. Totally ignoring him and being fabulous with everyone else. And looking great (IS that possible?) Eh, I don't know, I think he was thinking some of the same thoughts. So much apprehension! I was thinking on the way home, I'm just going to let it take it's course, be totally relaxed about the whole thing. I mean, what is his friendship to me anyway? I don't need him, I never see him other than two months in the summer anyway. He's just a big knob head with no knob. Can you tell I watched Bridget Jones's Diary tonight? Yes, while lifting weights. I need to trim my stomach up. I live for that movie. Bridget is like my female role model. So charismatic, awesome. And she ends up with a total dream guy at the end of the movie. Predictive? Maybe? All I want is to experience my first dose of true love, well, maybe not true love, but just something I can pass off as such. I feel like such a failure in that general department. I think I have a chemical imbalance that is picked up by guys, kind of like dogs or fierce lions that can smell fear. Maybe they can smell my lack of confidence. Total lack thereof. Either that or I can finally admit to myself that I must be genetically engineered to live alone and mute for the rest of my life, only coming out into the light to buy groceries, although I could probably just order them online now. Okay, shop online, buy groceries, and just about everything else online. Why leave the house, I mean shack in the mountains? I am destined to be a hermit. Is there a major for that? Well, as I am caught in the swirl of my senior year in high school, ending one chapter and just beginning another, I am swept up by the unrelenting whirlwind called life. Saturday, June 15, 2002: There were so many different thoughts coursing their way across the vast chaos of my mind tonight. At one point, I looked up and I saw the first star. Then, I thought, there are billions of them out there, just burning, with hundreds of planets revolving around them. Some may even be planets like ours. So let me pose the question of parallelism. What if there is a world out there with inhabitants just like ours and with problems better or worse than ours? Could they even be more advanced than us? We, as a planet, as a people, are so narcissistic in our narrow views of society that we can't even open our eyes to realize that all of our issues are so miniscule and irrelevant in the span of the whole picture. I think that everyone is a narcissist in some aspect of their life. I know that I am a definite narcissist. When I was little, I used to think that basically, the world revolved around me and my life and that someone was always watching me, like I was performing for an audience or the star in a documentary. Everything, this entire universe, it all makes me feel so small, so insignificant and minute. Almost as something that is expendable. I want to make a difference, but how? I mean, it's not like I'm losing sleep over how to bring about world peace or how to help ALL of the homeless people. Not that I'm saying I don't have nightmares, but at least I sleep. I mean, these people who are trying, making a difference in at least one life, they're only scratching the surface. I guess I'm one of those people who has to go all the way or go home. I stay home a lot I guess. The thing that sucks is that I don't even have the ambition to try to help, or even care other than pity care. Okay, reflecting on my last entry, I have a lot to say to, say, clear the air. My friend thinks that I am not excited for her newfound relationship, which is very untrue. But, I have my worries also, as I had stated previously. I am happy for her, but I don't want to see her get hurt, you know, not seeing him all the time, stuff like that. I know he wouldn't hurt her in a malicious way. And plus, you know, I went through a thing a few weeks back when I had a twinge of a crush for the guy, which I really didn't want to bring up because she really wanted to make sure that I didn't like him before she moved on with him and that it was ok with me (which it is) and I don't want anyone to think that it isn't, but I guess it's going to need some getting used to before I'm totally and absolutely comfortable with the whole thing. And when I say twinge, I mean it. It wasn't this huge thing, like other twangs I've had. Maybe a few days, a week tops. How is it that whenever I talk about guys on here it always sounds like I'm bashing them? Argh! It doesn't have anything to do with you honey, it's ALL me. I change so much, even I can't keep up with myself. All these things in life are so petty, you're only on this earth for, what, sixty some odd years? Companionship, crap like that, I am so forgetting about it. It's hopeless, I don't need to worry myself with little things like that. I'm just going to let whatever happens fall into my lap. So I'm not ambitious when it comes to guys. I'm tired of always being the one to like and not liked. Role reversal in my case I guess. How is it that whenever a guy likes me, actively I guess you could say, it's always unwanted attention? It's like I'm always window-shopping. Like this totally gorgeous guy that came into the shop today...yeah. Wow. Okay, so anyway, I'm not really totally comfortable talking about guys like that, or at least to their faces. Never ever again, especially after last summer. Man, I really need to let that go. I just wish that people, all people, could truly see me for who I am, if that's a good thing, which I think it is... Sometimes I feel like I lead a double life, the public me and the me that only my closest friends see. Sometimes not even they really truly know me that well. Well, I think that about wraps up my thoughts and ideas for the past six hours.
DISCLAIMER:
I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to anyone whose feelings I may have hurt or otherwise altered towards myself as a result of that last entry. Please keep in mind that I treat this website as a diary (which means it's full of crap) and as a journal (which means nothing), so read and think indifferently. And yes, you will sometimes figure out who you are and what I am saying about you, usually things that I could not say to your face (which is rather cowardly of me). Oh-and one last thing, I know that a few of you have come into possession of some sacred knowledge-who it is that is behind these typed words. I don't care if you read, just don't hold my opinion against me. Thanks. Tuesday, June 11, 2002: Wow, two successive entries! Am so impressed by own initiative! Well, I think that I have finally adjusted to going out with my friends and just sitting somewhere. Some random parking lot and simply loitering. It's so refreshing! Well, I wouldn't go that far, but at least I don't feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. I love hanging out with them, but it would be weird if any of us had (and shared and expressed...) more than platonic feelings for each other. (I know you're reading this-you know who you are-don't take this personally at all, I'm simply expressing my fears-just read, you'll understand I hope.) Ok, here's the scenario: two of the four (the fabolous four!) are in a "thing" if you know what I mean because I really don't know what else to call it. Not going out but more than friends now I guess. I mean, I'm worried that if they start going out or whatever it'll make the rest of us feel awkward. I mean, ok, what if she gets tired of not being able to see him all of the time because he lives like three hours away? Then they decide to break it off (just a scenario) and make it really awkward when we hang out. I'm afraid it'll break up our group. It's two guys two girls, so you think two couples right? No. Maybe one, but I definitely wouldn't go out with him. It really has nothing to do with him at all but I feel that if anything bad ever happened between us then I would be ostracized. It's like she's better friends with him than with me because we're just reestablishing our ties and they're well established. I mean, I really hope that they get together and all, it's just I know it's not always going to be a happily ever after kind of story. I know she's worried that I still like him. I never really REALLY liked him. It was just a kind of thing I went through. It's like I go through these phases where I will really really like someone, then not like them at all like that. I'm not even sure if I really liked him at all to begin with. I think I get my feelings confused with a craving for his friendship. I mean, that's really what I need. A close guy friend. I mean, all the girls I know have them. Except me. I did feel a little something today, but not crush feelings. Kind of jealous feelings, not malignant though, just little twinges of hopelessness that I will never have what she has. I can't really see myself ever dating anyone, it would be too weird, for me. I'm so independant (of guys and etc.) that I can't see myself always attached to someone. Maybe that's why guys don't like me. So I'm generalizing. Shoot me. I'm basing it on experience. There's always that twinge of interest, but then it dissipates. Like today, I met my english teacher for next year (I know it sounds so gross) but I kind of saw a different side of him than I would have in school. It was really cool, he didn't treat me like a student, but more like an equal. He's not even that much older than me, not more than ten years. And he has these really deep blue eyes, but ok, digressing, because I would never date him, I mean he's my teacher! That would be extremely weird. And cataclysmic to my high school reputation. But we had a nice conversation today alone in his room (so not what you're thinking!!). I hope none of my classmates are reading this. Partly because everyone in my school thinks he's kind of gay because he's kind of feminine, but he's so not gay, I don't think. So anyway, I got my summer reading stuff and we talked for a while about college and class and stuff and then it started getting awkward because he was just staring at me, so I was like, thanks, gotta jet! And that was my ultimate looking ahead kind of suck up to be le chouchou du professeur (and if you don't parlez francais: the teacher's pet). So, I think I covered everything I wanted to talk about. G'night! Monday, June 10, 2002: I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, usually a highly dangerous operation. I've been surrounding myself with these people, mainly women, that I want to become more like. It's almost like Bridget Jones and Alanis Morisette are pulling me through, showing me the light. Both show a side of myself, I guess that's why I like them both so much (I think I'm addicted to the Bridget Jones's Diary movie). I mean, Bridget is the me that I am now: searching for acceptance and love, and usually weak without either one. And Alanis is like the me I would like to become: strong-doesn't need anyone. You know, I've noticed that out of all the people that know me don't really know me at all. So they know my name-most of the time at least. That doens't mean that they know what I'm like, my favorite food, just me. Even some of my closest friends don't really know my true personality most of the time because I don't ever show them. Have you ever had that feeling like you're lying to someone? I always get this really guilty feeling like people don't know what I'm doing when they're not there-like I do anything bad anyway. I think it's because I don't reveal my true personality-it's like I'm being fake, or in a sense, lying to them. I keep having these nightmares. They're about me and they're so real. I'm always someplace, like work or the shop, and I desperately need to be someplace else. Like last night-I was working at the shop when a huge monsoon of a storm came and then there was this ten car pileup out front and I was supposed to be at the pool to teach ten minutes ago. I was panicking so much, so worried that I was leaving a whole bunch of kids waiting for me and I never showed up. I think it stems from my biggest fear: overbooking myself. Having to be at two places at one time. I think they're triggered by my stress. I was in class today, playing on my calculator because my professor is soooo boring when I thought, "I wish I didn't have to come here everyday, then I could really be on summer vacation, and get a good job to get vacation money, and take trips to OC with my friends." But then I remembered that I was stuck inside this classroom with people who are two or three years older than me and look down on my age. I don't see what the big deal is. I mean I get tens on all my quizzes which is good and probably better than most of theirs. I just kind of wish they would look past the whole age thing. Like Ron-who was actually talking to me, but now thinks that he's too good for me or something just because he's 19 and I'm 17. It's people like that who go on through life living on the technicalities instead of what's in their heart, or their mind. That was really corny. But true nonetheless. Well, I don't feel like I've said anything witty or useful, but hopefully, you will interpret this in your own way and maybe even draw something from it. |
