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Just when you think you find someone decentÖ There was this guy in my chemistry class who I thought was cute. He sat beside me and talked to me, and on the second day, he remembered my name. I decided to do a little background check. I typed his name into Myspace, and found his page. The guy is a maniac! His ďgirlfriendĒ is a video game character, and he had this huge blurb about how he traveled into all these different dimensions. His pictures were worse. He dressed up as Link from Legend of Zelda for an anime convention.
My computer is dead, and I do not know how long I am going to be able to survive using the computers in my schoolís lab. It was very convenient to have a computer in my dorm room, but it also was not. I have a huge screen and I felt funny typing personal stuff where my roommate or other visitors can read over my shoulder. I am picky about stuff like thatÖ so I did not use my dorm computer very much anyway. I guess I will just wait and see how well I can get along without it.
I did not think he would miss me as much as he supposedly does. I hate how he thinks he can tell me what to do. ďFriday, youíre going to see me. Saturday you can spend time with your family. Sunday, youíre going to see me and Iíll take you back to school.Ē Thatís pretty much what he said word for word. Overprotective a bit, eh? Creepy and dangerous, right? I know, I know. I hate it so much. I want to be free from that shit so bad. I hate how he thinks he can do what he wants.
Iím still marveling at how much he misses me. The boy was on the phone, practically in tears. Here he is, talking about how easily he can get a new girlfriend. Why does he bother to wait for me? What do I have that everyone else does not? Maybe it is because I am the only fool who can put up with his bullshit. PerhapsÖ that may indeed be the reason. It makes me sound pitiful, but I have already proven that in other entries. Sometimes I love having a boyfriend, but other times, I just want to be single.
I have to write about metaphors for two of my classes. Itís a pain in the rear. But if you really think about it, most metaphors and euphemisms really donít make sense. For example, take ďI took a shit this morning.Ē You didnít really take a shit. What did you do, shit and remove it from the toilet? You did not take a shit, you left a shit. I think thatís what one of my professors meant. The other was talking about expressions like ďclean as a catís mouthĒ. Catís mouths are not clean. Well, my catís mouth is not.
I got an idea for a new ďironicĒ music video. I was listening to ďHotĒ by Avril Lavigne and reading a book about Eva Braun and her relationship to Hitler. So I figured that Eva is pretty much ignorant of all the political bullshit her lover is up to and in the meantime she longs for him to return to her. So that part fits with the song, but in the other meantime, Hitlerís over here killing Jews and invading countries and shit. So the song and situation are ironic for the rest of Germany. I thought it was cool.
Four years. I have been dating the same guy for four years, and I have yet to become bored of him. I have grown restless and worried, but not bored. Thereís something new happening with him all the time, and though Iíve felt secure and safe with him, I never am bored and I never know what heíll do next. And I love him more than anything, and I still feel that he is the only one. Because if he is not, I have absolutely no idea who this fabled ďright oneĒ is. I just hope itís not a nerd.
I think I made an entry somewhere, sometime about how a guy is never ďamazingĒ to me. Well, I change that. My boyfriend is amazing. I am not being sarcastic when I say that. The boy is utterly amazing. It might just be the way he looks at me, or the way he can jump from topic to topic and Iíll still understand him, or maybe the way that he loves me and appreciates me. But he amazes me. Heís not like the rest of them in the world, and we are not an ordinary couple. It makes me proud.
I am mad at Bristol Palin right now. Ever since that bit of news came out about her getting pregnant, I have been pissed. It seems that all I hear about are people under the age of 21 getting pregnant, married, or engaged. It makes me angry. Nobody knows how to keep their legs closed anymore and it frustrates me. Donít blame it on the Hispanics; itís not just them. Itís our whole society, and I canít stand it. Thatís why I wish sometimes that I was born in 1900, so I would be in a generation of relative conservatism.
I hate how ditzy I act sometimes. I donít even do it on purpose. Iíll be talking with friends and say something I think is cool, but it turns out to be the most Captain Obvious or stupid remark anyone could have said. I am learning to just shut my stupid mouth in conversations and just listen. The same thing happens in discussion classes in college. I feel so goddamn stupid that I canít even answer the questions right away. I have to really think about them before I make an answer. Does this mean I have a low IQ?
I hate how everyone just talks about nothing. My biggest pet peeve is people trying to make small talk with me. I may have complained about this before; how the only questions I get asked are: ďWhere are you going to college?Ē ďWhat are you majoring in?Ē ďDo you have a job?Ē I hate that last one. I tell them I do not work, and they look at me funny. I canít stand it. If I hear another of those questions, Iím going to go insane. I understand that people are curious, but I just get sick of hearing it.
Thoughts are floating through my head and I canít grab one and start writing about it. Theyíre too slippery and ephemeral. I am anticipating doing group work in my next class, and thatís all we ever do. Itís okay, but I would rather work by myself 99.9% of the time. Being in a group drags me down and makes me feel bad when the loudmouths in the group start talking over me. I canít wait to go home for the weekend and just ďchillĒ, as all the teenagers say (Iím 20). I hate the word ďchillĒ. I hate being cold.
If I get married and have children (which will probably be like 10 or more years from now), I am going to write a diary of the little oneís daily life so when they become adults (at age 18) I can give it to them as a birthday present and they can see how they were when they were so young. I would love if my parents had done something like that for me, so if I have kids, I promise Iíll do it for them. But at this rate, I feel like Iím going to be in school forever.
I am getting tired of sweating. I feel like Iím never warm or cool or at any neutral temperature. Iím either sweating hot or shaking cold. That happened yesterday, when I was sitting in my boyfriendís truck and we were chatting; the air got so hot in the truck (we didnít have the windows open) and when he put on the air conditioning, it got so cold I had to tell him to turn it off. I was fine for five minutes, then the cycle repeated itself. I do not understand why I canít just be at a normal temperature.
Iím going to live it up. He did it, so why canít I? These two years at real college are going to be my last chance to mess around before I settle down, get married, and start living my life. I want to get married in the year 2012, when I turn 24. My boyfriend will be 23. We will have been dating for almost eight years then. It seems so unreal; and it seems like so long to wait, but I think we can do it. Weíre still so young and immature, so live it up in the meantime.
Iím too horny to want to be a nun. Iím in college, trying to stay as faithful as I can to my boyfriend, who Iím not even sure I want to marry, and Iím checking out literally every guy who walks by. Every fucking guy. I canít believe myself sometimes. I cannot keep my eyes off other guys to save my life. Itís pitiful. Iíll become a nun and be checking out all the priests. Iíll go to hell, I swear. I donít know what the cure for this isÖ maybe Skylar is right. Maybe I need to get laid.
Itís the way I have to feel your heart beat
To live, to be this strong for you
I never knew another life,
Iíll never know another one like you
Newness fades, aging creeps into your face
I love you until the end of this
Stock-market crash, this presidential election,
This year 2008.
I love you until you decide
You can put up with me no longer
I love you even
When the rings you buy me
Slip off my fingers Ė into the gutter
I did not lose you
I need so badly to feel you near me.
He has dogged perseverance. Heís not giving up, and Iíve liked that quality in guys. It takes him some time to recuperate from failure, but when he comes back, heís stronger because of what he has gone through. It makes me happy that he does that. New subject: I have this annoying thing in my writing where I write sentences backwards. I put the clauses in the wrong order and I only catch it when I read what I just wrote. Thatís the reason I got a B on one of my papers; because I canít do sentence structure.
Do Not Be Afraid
God tells us not to be afraid, yet we should fear God. When people say ďfear GodĒ, they usually mean fear him in a sense that he is scary and will punish you, but that is wrong. To fear God means to respect him, like you should respect your parents. I am afraid that this culture does not fear God. We have that damn ďJesus is my homeboyĒ saying. Jesus is our friend, but he is also to be respected, like a parent. I think that is pretty much all I can say on that subject.
I hate not being able to read what I want to read. I am in college, and all I ever have time to read are the (mostly) boring books for class. My Language and Gender book is the most boring thing on the face of the earth. The subject matter is interesting, but it is presented in such a mind-numbingly boring way I practically fall asleep reading it. I do not have the time to read anything I want because of all this reading for class. I get so frustrated, because there are so many books I want to read!
Her eyes were lined with pure black, making them look much bigger than they probably were and her smile was wide, denoting both innocence and showing off the fact that she wore braces. When she was silent, she looked like a deer in the headlights, but when she spoke she was animated, her large eyes opening even wider to the happiness around her. Her jeans were covered with song lyrics she had written on them with ball point pen. It was the way she shared her music, her identity, with the world. And she was the me of twelfth grade.
I just took a Spanish test and right when I walked out of the room, I remembered something I wrote was wrong. Not the whole thing, but just one word. I put ďfueĒ instead of ďfuiĒ. I know thatís a minor thing, but itís going to bother the hell out of me all day, until I get my grade back. I want over a 90, but I donít think Iím going to get it this time. I got a 93 on the last test and a 97 in class participation, and a 90-something on homework, so I should be okay.
The Lost Year
That was 1999-2000. I remember little from that year, and I sincerely wish I remembered more. I consider my sixth grade year to the present my ďformativeĒ years, in which I became the person I am today. I want to remember more about the first year, my sixth grade year. I have very little written about it, and my memories from it are sketchy and often become confused with my seventh grade memories. There is one big reason why I want to remember 1999-2000, and the reason is The Last Resort. I want to remember for him.
Sensitive Boys Eat Lead
Thereís been a school shooting in Finland. I havenít read all the articles about that yet, but I think the guy killed himself after he shot down ten students. I feel horrible about that. I feel sorry for the people who are coming into this world after me. Itís falling down around our knees. I feel that things were better before words used in advertising were used in politics. I feel that things were better when sex was not so exploited or talked about so publicly. I wish a better world for the ones to come.
Sometimes, I feel incompetent, like Iím never going to amount to anything in life. I want to have a good job that I can stay at until I retire. I want to have a husband and two kids. I want to finally get out of school so I can do those two above things. But Iím scared to death that Iíll never get it. Iím scared that employers wonít find me competent, or that potential husbands wonít look twice at me because I am a little creepy. I know itís useless to worry and be scared. Iíll try not to.
Losing My Freaking Mind
I am losing things more often; forgetting them or misplacing them. A week ago, I was taking a Chemistry test and forgot to sign the honor code at the bottom. Luckily, my teacher gave me the benefit of the doubt, but if I forget again, Iíll get an instant zero (just add water!). I forgot to bring my Spanish test back to class today, but Iím getting leeway on that because Iím supposed to bring it Monday. Iíve forgotten my flash drive at home when I was supposed to bring it to schoolÖ Iím a mess.
I have written about this before, but I have shit self-esteem. I really do. And I donít want to talk about it anymore. Iím just very upset right now because I feel that nobody wants to listen to me rant and every time I try to say something, they keep on babbling and I never get a chance to finish my sentence. My boyfriend; Iíll be telling him something and heíll just babble on and one and I hate it! I never got a chance to finish, and by the time heís done, I lose my train of thought.
Donít Bend, Donít Break, Donít Back Down
Thatís what Iím going to try and do. Iím going to follow that maxim this week and see if I can get a better outlook on college life. I know Iím not the only one feeling incompetent and I know the feeling wonít last. I know by the end of my last year, Iíll be happy and secure in myself and ready to take life on. Iím going to hold my head up high and never stop to think about the past, although that is difficult for me. I learn from the past.
Itís a song by Seether. I hate it so much. As a matter of fact, I hate every Seether song right now because they all remind me of my boyfriend. Every time I hear one, I want to cry because I miss him so much and I feel horrible for not appreciating him. Itís the worst thing in the world, realizing you are a self-centered bitch and knowing there is little you can do about it. I want to reform my whole existence and outlook to make them better, but I know I will fail more than succeed.
Sensitive Boys Eat Lead (From My Loaded Gun)
It sounds like a cool song title. If I ever had a band, that would either be the first album title or the first single title. But the idea behind that is that I realized that I suck at relationships; not only romantic ones, but friendships too. I take everything I have for granted and I am always looking at the other side, expecting to find greener pastures. It pisses me off and I donít understand it. I want to try to be better, but I have fears that I will fail.
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