"Wakeful dreamers, I pass them on the sunlit streets."

Oh trouble, right here in river city.

Probably, actually... probably in this city, as well. But. I'm beyond it today. (I know, good for me, right?) Too much to do to be unhappy and upset with petty things... sometimes being busy is good, I guess. Tomorrow is Wednesday, which makes me happy. A whole day at home with nothing but homework. The only unhappy thing is not that Thursday is college, but that Friday is GS. I'm sick of GS already. So let's not think about that....

Katrina left a Weepies cd behind for me when she moved to college. Kate had it all this time but I finally got it last night and now have every song memorized. Wondrous people they are.

Tonight is "Dancing with the Stars". I've learned to love that show... and, tomorrow night is the season premier of "Pushing Daisies". I saw one episode of it last year and loved the style, even though I didn't get what was going on... but on premiers they recap so I'm hoping to start up this season. The whole dancing in bee-keeper outfits, kissing through ceran-wrap, things... quirky but cute. Not to mention the guy's eyebrows, which Kate is sure are sympathetic ones.

This song is my hero right now. It's just so soothing to me for some reason... it brightens me up after all this Damien Rice, Eliot Smith, and Sinead O'Connor music I've been listening too....


Thunder rumbles in the distance, a quiet intensity
I am willful, your insistence is tugging at the best of me
You're the moon, I'm the water
You're Mars, calling up Neptune's daughter

Sometimes rain that's needed falls
We float like two lovers in a painting by Chagall
All around is sky and blue town
Holding these flowers for a wedding gown
We live so high above the ground, satellites surround us.

I am humbled in this city
There seems to be an endless sea of people like us
Wakeful dreamers, I pass them on the sunlit streets
In our rooms filled with laughter
We make hope from every small disaster

Everybody says "you can't, you can't, you can't, don't try."
Still everybody says that if they had the chance they'd fly like we do.


I drew a picture last night that went with that rather beautifully. Anyway, time to go do... something... the thought of being at home tonight makes me incredibly happy. Not an ecstatic sort of happiness... a quiet sort of ease. Which, in turn, makes everything seem much better...

"Now there's an ocean between

Where I am and where I want to be.
So you prayers in doubt,
Doubt not for me."

Yeah yeah, two journal entries in one day... within six hours of each other, what's more. But oh well... I'm bored. And I'd be writing a story or something, but Kate's using my computer, so all I have is this other computer with blogspot. Hmm... we'll make due.

Y'know... I've decided I'm too stubborn for my own good. I was at a dance last night, and a friend of mine was practically ignoring me for some reason... then he told me he'd ask me to dance later, and an hour passed. And I was too stubborn to go and be like, "um, hey you, you forgot me..." So Laura went and told him to ask me. Which was somewhat degrading. Yeah, it was my own stupid fault for being so darn stubborn, but blah. It's the principle of the matter, you know? I miss Jon. I wish he'd come back home, or at least write or call.... and you know what's most frustrating? I've got SO much to do during the weekdays, but then on weekends when there's really nothing to do, I'm too tired and boring to write. And all I've wanted to DO is write, in one of my stories, I mean... but I can't. I am completely lacking creativity and it's rather depressing. Remember that story I wrote a long while ago, about Eloise and her sanctuary? Darned good story if I do say so. People from church are coming over in like two hours... I've got too much to do... or do I? I don't want tomorrow to be Monday... I'm not ready for another week. Of course, when am I ever? I'm tired of facebook. I'm tired of lots of things... like people. They are oh so tiring. And ridiculous! Oh so ridiculous. I came up with a word for people yesterday and was laughing for about ten minutes. Nannyraggits. I have no idea what it even means but you can kind of get the idea... my fingers feel somewhat arthritic. And it's foggy outside. Maybe it'll rain. Hmmmmm. Today's the 28th. That means it's almost October. And that's not cool... actually it is, just, I'm not ready for the things in October. I'm ready for it to be OVER, rather, for school to be over, or at least the semester. The worst feeling is when you're kind of ticked at the people who usually make you happy. That's kind of tickish. Then when you feel ticked at the people you're usually ticked at. That's just normal. Maybe I should paint. Orr, drink coffee. Yes, I think I will. My teeth hurt. Why is that? I'm trying to see how long I can possibly make this. You know last night I danced with a guy who was prolly 7 feet tall? I did. It was crazy. I felt like a twig, and I realized, so that's how most guys feel with they dance with me.... well, not twig-like, but tiny. When Jesus was on earth, what did people say when he sneezed?? But anyway, this is all ridiculous... and I've not even run out of things to talk about. If you read this far you're my hero. Unless you're not my hero, in which case, weirdy! That was my Mickey Rooney bit for the day. Did I mention I got a headboard for my bed yesterday? Finally. I did. I did mention it. Well I've had it for a while, but we just put it on yesterday. It's cold. Not the headboard, the weather.... you know what I found, is when you're depressed, read the first chapter of James. I felt loads better yesterday. It was not my happy day. Nor the day before. I'm not even particularly happy today, but I'm trying. I think I'll be happier when I do something. I need a haircut... my hair's long enough to fit in a pony tail now and that's definitely a sign that it's too long. Speaking of long, this is long, so, so long.

"Though you'll find your way out,
But there's no goin' now.
Every woman and child
Drags you down for the dive.
It's not safe being free,
Can't give back what you feel.
He said you'll always be in heaven with me."

"I'm okay, I'm alright, though you have gone from my life,

You said that it would, now everything should, be alright."

Okay. You. Go listen to "If I ever leave this world alive" by Flogging Molly. Now.

In the meantime...

Random facts. The successful journal entry with all else eludes brainpower.

• I get wayyyy too emotional about music. My mood morphs into whatever I’m listening to, and sometimes it gets dangerous.

• I have a lot of inane fears, but the biggest one is definitely my fear of bugs. Spiders, mainly. But seriously, if there’s an insect anywhere near, you can count on me running from the room forthwith.

• I have an unhealthy obsession with all things Irish. Music... movies... accents... guys... guys with accents....

• I really do think I’d do better in life if I had been born in the early 1920’s.

• No matter how hard I try not to, I always always end up falling in love with the murderous villains in movies. And I've successfully succeeded in making my friends and family worry about me.

• I have weird food quirks. I love meat – and yet, I will NOT eat chicken off a bone. And eggs. I like eggs well enough, but there’s always been this dread in the back of my mind that one day I’ll crack the thing over the pan and it will come to life and chirp at me.

• Sometimes I feel like Harold in “stranger than fiction.” I mean this in the way that no matter what’s going on, there’s always a voice in my head narrating it, or finding interesting ways to phrase what’s being said... etc. This is sometimes annoying, but it comes in handy for when I want to write things down.

• I love plants and flowers and all things green. For some reason, though, my thumb does not share in this revelry. That is precisely the reason that, though my room is nearly a greenhouse, most of the plants therein are fake.

• A while ago I was convinced that I had OCD. Until I realized, that it’s only about my room. All of hell could break loose everywhere else and I wouldn’t care. But if one single picture frame in my room is tilted the wrong way, I can’t rest until it’s exactly right.

• I will not go into a bathroom without checking behind the shower curtains first.
  

• If you put a bag of potato chips and a bowl of onion dip in front of me, I WILL eat all of it.
  

"I carved your name across my eyelids,

You pray for rain, I pray for blindness."


I was so angry that my hands were literally shaking. Kate took me on a long walk before I could do anything "rash" that I would regret - though I honestly couldn't imagine regretting anything I might happen to do.

On the way back home, she remarked that sometimes she feels like she's missing out. I've always been the fighter - the one who, for example, when someone gets hurt or insulted, gets angrier at the offender than the victim themselves does. So when someone crosses me, they'd better watch it. While Kate gets irrational and angry, yeah, it's a different sort of anger. She's mad for a while, and then suddenly she seems to say, "Well, that's life", and shrugs it off. I find myself getting upset for her on several occasions.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm missing out on emotions... like I've desensitized myself. When Luke was taken away, when Amos died..."

"Have you seen me today? You think you're missing out on this?"

She shrugged.

I've felt numb about things before - it's rare, but I have. And yes, sometimes it's worse than anger and depression itself. But sometimes, oh sometimes, I'd gladly trade with her....

"In your head, in your head, they are fighting."

And I knew that song was about the troubles in Ireland just by hearing the date "nineteen-sixteen." And I felt rather intelligent.

I slept probably all too late this morning... even though I'd set my alarm for 7. It's just so annoying with the BEEP BEEP BEEP that I turn it off right away before I'm fully awake. Then I wake up an hour later. Ugh.

I felt ok yesterday but this morning my throat hurts again... blah. More lemon tea for me.

Speaking of yesterday. I don't know what I did, but as I was running to the gym for kickboxing, I was suddenly like, "ouch.." and the back of my leg has been killing me ever since. Needless to say, kickboxing was murder. I'm not sure at all what I'm gonna do tomorrow... it HURTS!

Soo, I've been trying to get out of doing speech, but the first night is tomorrow night so I'm not sure I'll have luck. I just don't know what I want to do for speech, not to mention the fact that I didn't like it all that much last year... AND I can't do a duo, because, well, complications...

Well, today will be a day of grueling longness... so much to do on Wednesday's. At least I can stay home all day though, that's a plus. It's tomorrow that'll be physical murder...

Hmm.

Cats, I think, are highly reflective creatures. I don't mean they're shiny - far from it. I just mean, well, they seem to think about things. Even if they don't end up acting on the things for a while... and then a while longer.... and even longer after that. At least they think. And that's admirable.

Also quite vain, it seems. At this moment, my cat Suki is sitting on the couch arm, staring at her reflection in the glass door. Mostly the look is pleasant, at ease. But sometimes, maybe she sees a misplaced hair or something, because her eyes will widen and she'll jump up and squint closer at herself. Sooner or later she dismisses the worry, settles back down, and then sinks into her queer level of immobility - with only her tail to differentiate herself from a picture.

Sometimes the look I receive from my cat is unsettling. I'll see her sitting in a patch of sunlight, and think how nice it must be there. So I join her. She raises her head, squints, scoots a foot away, and lays back down again, watching me derisively with one eye. Almost as if she sees me as the pet, the annoying child, who has nothing better to do than to bug my elders.

This afternoon I sat for a long while, watching this phenomenon. I wondered what she was thinking about, watching me like that. What deep thoughts were running through her mind, while her eyes strayed restlessly about my face, and her tail twitched back and forth.

Then I realized it. I saw the look in her eye and my illusions of this grand intellectual drooped as she lifted her leg and stretched to lick herself.

Lawnmowers.

As I should be doing school right now, there's no music playing, and hence, no amazing title for today's blog. Drats.

ummm boy. I'm really just writing to wake my mind up, because I need to get 2 lessons of math done, and my past experience has told me that with these lessons, I won't be done for about 3 hours... sometimes more. I've been doing school allll day, and an hour ago I WAS doing biology, until I saw how cute the cat was on the couch next to me, and how warm she felt against my arm, and then how comfortable I was when I laid my head down... I woke up like ten minutes ago. And now my body feels completely numb and my head is like... well, it's not. That's the problem.

Jon left last night and this morning Mom saw a headboard out for the salvation army down the street, and we went and asked the people if we could have it. They said we could. It's pretty cool. I just have to more some stuff around in my room to make it fit. Maybe that's what I need. Oh and Jon left. I already said that... I miss the bum. It's always nice to have him back and see that he hasn't changed all that much since he went away.

Egad. I realllly don't have the brains to do math today... but it's due tomorrow. Shoot. I can't even SPELL. The only reason this looks alright is because of the blessed backspace button. And I'm pretty much using it on every word.

Alright, welllllllll........ I just need to wake up. That's all there is about it. So long.

"But to and fro in my dreams I go..."

...And I'd kneel and pray for you. For slavery fled, O glorious dead, When you fell in the foggy dew."

Sigh. Sinead O'Connor really does have one of the most beautiful voices... that, and Irish music just sounds beautiful to me anyways.

Last night Jon and I FINALLY watched "The Wind that Shakes the Barley". And boy. If something was to dampen my obsession with Ireland, that was definitely not it. Probably one of the most depressing movies I've seen... but oh. SO good. And pf, well, Cillian Murphy is just great anyway. I actually was in tears during one part. And of course the end. Oh. ... Funny thing is, that movie probably wouldn't have effected me so much if I weren't Irish. I mean yeah, it was really well done and all. It's just always seemed like being Irish is more than just being part of an ethnicity... you feel things more, when they have to do with Ireland and such. I think that no matter how much of something else you might have in your blood, if there's Irish in it, the Irish part will take over. It's just the way it goes.

And an entire half of me IS Irish. So hah.

Anywhooo. Well it's Sunday afternoon, and I'm quite bored... I should be doing something, like homework, or writing even... but I'm sick, I have been since Friday night, and it's hard to do things that take thinking when you're sick. Darned unpleasant.

I didn't even end up going to the funeral yesterday, because I was sick, which made me kind of sad. I mean yeah, I wasn't looking forward to it. But I knew I should and I wasn't gonna put up a fuss. In fact I still wish I had gone, because apparently it was "beautiful" and moving and that. And, I had to stay home along all day. That was kind of a bummer.

Kate's working at a wedding and Jon's hanging out with friends... so I'm kind of bored. You know, I think the name Regan would be pretty sweet for a girl. It would probably sound even cooler with an Irish accent. Speaking of Irish girl names, the name Sinead looks pretty ugly if you don't know how it's said. But it's pronounced more like "Shi-NADE" and I think it's pretty beautiful. I wish I had an Irish accent... everything sounds much cooler that way. Americans just sound so dumb when you think about it. Which is really unpatriotic of me, sorry...

Anyway. What's there to be done? My mind's not working, I can barely talk because my stinking throat hurts, and... I haven't even had coffee in 2 days. Helppp....

"Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear, and raise what's left of the flag for me."

Maybe I'll draw. Nope... headache. Hmm.... what do sick people do for fun? I shall have to explore this.

I love you, standing all alone in a black coat.

I feel absolutely perfectly happy.

Wow.

So today started out lame... pretty much Group Solutions was lame... biology was, oddly enough, the most entertaining class, but not because of science - mostly just because I sat with Amelia, John Pettit and Nolan and Emily Lamo and together we're rather hilarious. History, I have a feeling, I will not like very much. Not because of Mrs. Yee, just because... I don't know. The atmosphere isn't what it could be, we'll say. Lunch was... ugh. Um, and American Lit was actually very interesting... lots of talking, lots of interested people, which is really impressive for a GS class. But still, the drama of the past weeks made it all really... uncomfortable. Except that Amelia and I are in all the same classes. And that's a ray of sunshine in itself.

But what really made me happy was that Amelia came over afterwards, and she just now left. We went to the harbor and bought hot chocolates, sat at the docks and ranted... tired of ranting, we moved from the benches and walked around the rest of the harbor, and spent the rest of the time talking about relatively happy things. I think we were both heartily cheered... all I needed was just to talk to her. And everything seems right again.

Now we're gonna eat dinner and Jon will be here soon.... of course, so will the Kellers.... but that's another story... but I am just so excited to see Jon!!!

In all, Life won most of the battles this week. But I conquered today.

"And so it is..."

...Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time
And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her skies


I miss Damien Rice. Which is precisely why I'm listening to him right now.

Gah the back of my legs are sore. More boot camp in kickboxing today. It was a loong day, and I'm not sure if it was good or bad. I personally felt better. But Amelia's having a rough time with something, and when she's sad I'm sad... and I've never been good at giving advice to people. Especially when I could use some of it myself. Let's just say same lame situation, same reactions, just on slightly different levels. I was mad until I got over it. Now I'm mad because I don't like Amelia being upset...

Jon wrote me today. It was only like one line but it was nice... I miss the moron.

Groups starts tomorrow. And for many many reasons, I am NOT looking forward to it. For one thing, there have been too many... let's say "back stories", over the summer. So I'm not real excited on that front.... and also, the scholastics front... like I'm not already overwhelmed enough with life and vc and other stuff... now we through GS into the mix as well. Woohoo...

And I have a biology test to do tonight before class tomorrow. Well, there's a pot of coffee brewing... which is somewhat cheering.

Ugh... I just.... I mean I'm feeling oddly strong emotionally today, which is good. But it doesn't do me much good when the people closest to me are so miserable. I don't want that. And tomorrow it won't improve matters.

This weekend will be crazy. So tomorrow's Groups, then Jon comes home, and an elderly couple my family knows is coming to stay at our house because they're in town and need a place to stay... and then on Saturday I got volunteered to help serve food at a funeral... which I'm cool with... but I have the feeling I'll be realllly depressed... the man who died was a really important guy to the homeschool community and he died in the train crash last week. All week it's been in the back of my mind; he had three kids. I just can't imagine how it would feel to lose my dad. And it's all just so heavy... I mean what can you say to somebody in that situation? I don't know the family well but still... it's just so hard to imagine what they're going through.

And it's a bummer that it's all this weekend, because all I really want to do is hang out with Amelia. I think it'd do us both some good.

Well.... coffee's done. Hair needs drying... because I just got out of the shower. Well not just, I mean I've been on here for a while... pf. Never mind.

There's a biology test with my name on it. Ta.

"Stones taught me to fly, love taught me to cry. So come on courage, teach me to be shy. Cause it's not hard to fall, and I don't want to scare her; it's not hard to fall, and I don't want to lose her. It's not hard to grow, when you know that you just don't know."


Like an hour later...


So just as I was sitting down for my test, Mom brought me a file of Gramma's family history stuff that she looked up a few years back to find out whether we were Daughters of the American Revolution or some foundation like that.... turned out we WERE daughters of a revolution, just in a different country. But we knew that. Anyway, so I spent the last twenty minutes or so looking through these files and photos... there are photos from the 1800's! I also found out that while GrandDad's family was from Wicklow (a very very southern part of the Republic), Gramma's family was from Northern Ireland. Which is kind of funny. I asked Mom if she thought they knew about that, because they prolly wouldn't have married if they did... haha... but she said, get this, Gramma never even knew she was Irish until a few years ago. She thought she was Brittish! GrandDad always mocked her for being a Brit, and here she is, being more Irish than he ever was. Some sort of Irony, I think. Poor GrandDad... Mom says he's rolling in his grave.

"I wanna talk tonight, until the morning light."

Sittin' on my own
Chewin' on a bone
A thousand million
Miles from home
When Something hit me
Somewhere right between the eyes

Sleepin' on a plane
You know you can't complain
You took your last chance
Once again
I landed, stranded
Hardly even knew your name

I wanna talk tonight
Until the mornin' light
'Bout how you saved my life
You and me see how we are
You and me see how we are

All your dreams are made
Of Strawberry lemonade
And you make sure
I eat today
You take me walking
To where you played
When you were young

I'll never say that I
Won't ever make you cry
And this I'll say
I don't know why
I know I'm leavin'
But I'll be back another day

I wanna talk tonight
Until the mornin' light
'Bout how you saved my life
I wanna talk tonight

-Oasis, "Talk Tonight"


Man I love that song... and something about it seems fitting for tonight, but I'm not really sure why. Or who I want to talk to. I think I just need to talk. Amelia thinks fate has it out for us "insync" because we're both having sucky weeks... I think I agree. I think it would be fixed if she were around, but she's not... and it's kinda hard to get over there at this time. Especially without a car. Or bicycle. Not that I'd ride a bicycle anyways, because I hate those, no matter what Dad says or how many alps he went over on his.

No surprises, karma police, please.

Anyways. I'm not ready for another day tomorrow. I wish tonight would just last realllllly long, so I'd have time to recover from things, and stay up all night writing. And drinking coffee, or something... but coffee's given me a weird feeling today. In any case, doesn't that sound nice? Listening to Radiohead and Oasis' sad songs and just writing until the world gets tired of spinning and goes off on a vacation somewhere else. Then we'd all go across the universe and pretty much be nowhere men and women, to be perfectly politically correct. Or until the sun came up and turned out to be a strawberry. And all the little bursts of light would be those strawberry creme things... what are those called?

No alarms. Not even a jest.

I'm just getting tired of things the way they are. And I'm tired of thinking, which is why the only person I'm making sense to is me. Except not really... it's just kind of a comforting thought though. But all anybody knows is you're not like them, or so says Eliot Smith. But look where he ended up...

Anyway. I think the world would be better off if we all just..... wore glasses with purple tape across them. We wouldn't have to look at each other, but at least we wouldn't be looking at nothing...

I'm of the belief that when one starts hallucinating about purple tape, it is time to shut one's mind down. That and Amelia just told me some very possibly distressing news. But I don't know yet. Whyfor? I don't know a lot of things. Mostly today... I'm getting that feeling today.

"If somebody loved you, they'd tell you by now."

Wow. That is probably the most depressing thing I've ever heard..... don't worry, I'm not suicidal today. I just happen to like that song.

Anywho. Hello starshine. Today was another vc-er, and a long one at that.... but not all that bad. Kickboxing was more or less a boot-camp... the teacher said so herself. We did 100 crunches, 50 pushups and a million other innumerable things that caused my body much pain. And somehow my shins. Go figure...
Math was dumb as usual. I'd forgotten how completely inept I am at fractions.
Art was a work day, which I love. Just painting and listening to music for 3 hours. I think my painting turned out alright, though I wasn't really a fan at first. We'll see what Julie thinks. I'm almost afraid to ask....

I really wish I could've hung out with Laura and Amelia after class, but Kate called like 2 seconds after we walked out and wanted to go home. Sadness. Especially after yesterday, I just needed them to cheer me up. But Amelia says she'll call me soon so that's my little ray of sunshine for the day.

Another ray, is there was a fresh pot of coffee waiting when I got home. After hearing my gym teacher blaspheme energy drinks and caffeine in class, I was starting to miss them.

Well I have a ton of homework, but that seems to be usual by now. I'm kind of getting used to the horrid overwhelming feeling. Which is kind of a sad feeling in itself.

Today we saw the exact replica of James. It was weird.

Annnd... let's see. Not really much else to report. I've got a million thoughts on everything, it seems, but my fingers are revolting and getting tired of typing them all. That, and I have a tendency to sound ranty and depressed even when I'm not really.. except, today, I am. Sort of. At least I think. Maybe I'm just bipolar today. I feel happy until I think of something or other, and then I feel sad and mad and angsty, until I think of another something or other... going back and forth like the blinds against the back door. Except that I'm not dusty. Or blind.

Well if not, that's okay, glass child. That's okay.

Just can't seem to get it right today.

You and me both, Joe Purdy. Especially with that name. Yikes.

Urg. I'm so tired of everyone and everything today... no names or particular instances, of course, because this isn't a private website and who knows who might read this... hah, that's all I need... an internet scandal. The cherry on top.

Come to think of it, that kind of annoys me; people reading this. Then why do I write it? I think for me, mostly. I was never much good at keeping a diary and this is the closest I've gotten. But as for other people? Why read this? Kinda sketch.

Didn't have much homework today believe it or not... I did most of it on Saturday. Actually not, I'm just too tired today. That just means there'll be more for tomorrow though... I have to start bringing biology to vc with me. Woohoo.

Ee. Much ranting and raving on the family front. We don't really make sense to each other anymore. At least, not today. I'm so tired of it... and I'm tired of being the one in the middle. The mediator, as it were... passing information to the other sides and trying to soothe things over, and then what? That's as far as I go. So so tiring. Now Mom and Dad left and Kate's in a huff and I don't even know when they'll be getting back... or even where they went... and Kate won't talk to me. Why the drama? Why is my stomach growling? It's 5:35, that's why. Good lord. That probably means I should eat something....

How does one type a sigh?

And I'm just... blah. I want to talk to Jon. When things were crazy and mental and emotional over here and he was home, I knew I could escape it by just going up to his room. He's don the Bob Dylan voice and say, "well man, at's real lame," and everything would go back to normal. At least in my mind it would. All of hell would be breaking loose downstairs but if I was throwing darts with Jon, it was fine. Why the devil isn't he here????

Rhetorical question, of course. Ugh... and there's not even coffee made....

Laura, old girl, get a grip...


No. Not yet. Today's not finished yet...

"Why do I need anyone else..."

"... when I can break the sky myself?"

I just talked to Jon on the phone for like 45 minutes and it pretty much made my day. He sounds surprisingly happy at Biola. Which is great... just as long as he remembers us poor folks back home.

I've discovered a lot of songs by the Hush Sound I'd never heard before. Break the Sky, Love you Much Better, That's Ok... a few more that I can't think of.... all great songs. The main girl singer sounds like she'd be an interesting person to meet.

Anyways.... Jon finally read my story, and he was totally honest, which made me happy. But at the same time, it's always a tad hard to hear critiques... ahhh I need to get over that. I think the main thing he said about it was that I have too many influences that I follow too closely. I was afraid of that. Katrina said that as well and I thought I'd fixed it up enough... not so. But, Jon did say that he thought the poem (The Hollow Men) worked well with the story, which makes me super happy. Because that's exactly what Kate said didn't work. And the story and the poem are so intertwined that if the poem didn't work, the story wouldn't work. Kate hated it, Katrina loved it, so Jon was the deciding factor. And he had the same thoughts as I did. Huzzah!
Other little things like dialogue can be fixed. But if he'd said something against the poem dealio, I prolly would've just dropped the story altogether.

Soo, I'm gonna give the Hollow Men a break and come back to it in a few weeks, once I've cleared my head about it. I've reread it so many times I can't tell one thing from another.

Talking to Jon just made me so happy.... most of the time I'm too busy to feel sad about him being gone, but (especially on weekends) when I've got nothing better to do, I just sit and mope about how lonely I feel... which is entirely unenjoyable.

All I can think about today is Ireland. It's like I've got this disease and the only way to cure it is to actually GO to Ireland. Either that, or just find another place to be infatuated with. But I've got the feeling that this Ireland-kick won't go for a looooong time. Or at least, until I actually go there. I'm just so afraid it'll never happen......

But look at this. Doesn't it look like heaven?
These are both in Northern Ireland, I think. The area I want to go (County Wicklow, where my family is from) is in the Republic, right below Dublin. Like, right below. (I think they said 16 km?) There are great pictures of Wicklow too, but these were particularly stunning to me...

Eeee. Well. Darnit, I want to WRITE, but I can't think of anything new to write about. This is problematic. And I have a toothache. Sigh....

Well, that's it for now. Until later, stinking billy goat thou.

"I'll show you Paris on the morning...

...I'll show you London afternoon. But if your Dublin heart is burning, well you don't have to worry, cause we're going there soon."


I fell asleep thinking about a French opera house and had a dream about an Irish milkman. Who knew.

Well I woke up at about 7:20 and have been helping with the garage sale mostly since. Things are slowing down now (after Kate and I put up signs, go figure) but Mom and Dad are still out there. They mostly need me for taking stuff out, organizing it and putting it back. So I'm on call right now.

It's been pretty entertaining. My favorite part is watching Dad try to barter with the Hispanics in the neighborhood. One of our first customers was a short, paunchy man in a stetson. He pointed at the weedwacker (which needs some obvious repair) and asked "how much?" Dad held up five fingers and added "dollars" to it. The man frowned and held three stubby fingers in the air. Dad's palm moved forward about an inch for emphasis, but remained, as ever, five fingered. The man glowered behind his three extended fingers, but held firm. It was almost impressive how they held this conversation with no words for about five minutes. Each seemed sure that the other was miscounting his fingers, and each seemed unable to move his own. Finally, the man ended up walking away with the weedwacker, his pockets emptied of five dollars.

Mueller: 1. Neighborhood: 0.

When Kate and I were putting up signs, we saw that there was another yard sale down the street. They had signs that were bigger and brighter than ours, darn them... So we put our signs next to theirs, to create some obviously needed tension.

On the way back to the house, I thought Kate spit on me. But the air is so thick and foggy that she assumed it was about to start raining. The score for the neighborhood would've been upped one, but it hasn't started raining yet.

Mueller: 2. Neighborhood: 0.

So I made a pot of coffee when we got back and went outside to keep Mom and Dad company. Kate left a while ago to go be a photographer's assistant at a wedding in Santa Barbara. Then I played the piano for a bit and have been in here for about twenty minutes since.

About an hour ago, Mom realized there was a lull in traffic on our street and decided some of the signs must have blown down. So she went, looked around, and came back to report that the signs we had placed near our neighbors had been taken down! I couldn't help but laugh a little. So our neighbors were evil. Evil, but smart.

Mueller: 2. Neighborhood: 1.

Things are catching up. I'll have to see how the day ends up... should be interesting.


A while later.

Well. Garage sale's almost over, I'd wager, and we've made about $300.

Mueller: 3. Neighborhood: 1.

HAH.

"Since then it's been a book you read in reverse...

...So you understand less as the pages turn. Or a movie so crass and awkwardly cast that even I could be the star."

Today was pretty good, even though I wasn't home at all. Pictures at the park were interesting enough, especially cause Mom and I showed up at the wrong park first... anyway, I hope my picture'll be ok... last years' was wretched... for some reason they had some of the kids say "wednesday" right as the camera clicked. But they didn't make me do it. Not sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

Anyway, after that I went to Sharkie's and then Barnes and Noble with Amelia, James and John. We just kind of hung around, and Amelia and I took turns reading "Twilight" to each other... I've been curious about that book (and movies/tv series?) since I got on Facebook. The "pieces of flair" application is rampant with Edward Cullen one liners. Even though the book was poorly written, it was intriguing - mostly, I think, because of the many thousands of teenagers who are completely obsessed with it. There must be a reason for it... but then, I think of how popular Miley Cyrus is, and I check myself.

At 3:30 Mom came and picked me up and took me off to Michelle's. I babysat Marley and Savanna for like 3 hours... I love those kids so much but I wasn't really looking forward to it. I had this huge headache by the time I left Barnes and Noble and my cheeks kind of hurt from smiling... but we had fun. Marley's gotten into this thing where her answer for everything is "umm, ok!" That, and she calls me "U-ya", which is definitely a way to win my heart over. At least, for a 2 year old. If anyone older than that called me "U-ya", I wouldn't be so impressed. I don't think.

In any case, I got $30, which was way cool.

Ok, remember like last week when I couldn't think of my happiest memory? It happened again today, only with my most embarrassing one. Either I'm too cool to be embarrassed (HAH), or I've just become so used to it that I don't notice it as much. I think it's the latter, but I can't be quite sure. Time will tell, I guess.

Well, we're having a garage sale tomorrow (oh joy) and I guess I'd better go do something to make myself useful in preparing for it. And I still have an ungodly amount of biology and history to do.... sigh.

"I thought of you and where you'd gone..."

"...And let the world spin madly on."

And madly on it spins. But not unbearably madly, in any case.

I ditched kickboxing today cause I'm still so sore from Tuesday and plus I didn't feel like going and I have too much other homework. Anyway, it was my first official ditching of a class. Yay me! I went to math, though, then came home, did some biology, and went back at 1 for art... saw the "geometry kids", who I haven't seen in a few weeks and I kind of missed the little buggers. Anyways, there's not much else to say about today... other than I love Laura and Amelia with the love of a thousand suns, and I feel like I got a pepsi-hangover. I hadn't thought that possible.

And, obviously, today is September 11th. Eight years ago it would've just been like any other day, isn't that weird? I mean my family wasn't effected by it, since it was all the way out in New York... but still. It's unbelievable how much has changed since then, especially for those who were effected by it.
God bless them all, and everyone who's still being effected...

*************************************************************************************

So it's 10:26 and I'm bored. Tired, and bored, but I don't want to go to bed. I may write, or even do math homework. Yes, these are desperate times.

I miss my stinking brother so much. This is the kind of time I would normally go up to his room - when I'm bored and need someone to talk to... I'd come up the stairs and hear him tapping away on the keys and playing Bob Dylan. Not so. Sometimes I hate it how life jumps ahead for some people while I stay in the same stinking rut people have come to call high school. It's not fair. And darnit, I just want to hug him.

Tomorrow is picture day for ACHEV. Woohoo. I don't even know what I'm wearing... blah. But Amelia and I are hanging out afterwards, so that'll be fun...

Ugh I have this horrible headache that's been jumping on me all day. How do you get rid of those?

I need to do something and get my mind off of things......

Don't think twice, it's alright.

Okay. I've been in a much better, less-ranty mood today. But I simply must say.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Does my math teacher have no idea what he did to us yesterday? I've been doing math for THREE HOURS, (well, on and off... a girl does need breaks once in a while. But mostly on.) and I just now finished last week's lesson. There's a whole 'nother 7 pages of stupid things I learned in pre-algebra. It's not HARD, it just takes FOREVER to write down and work out without a calculator. And I hated pre-algebra.

I've not been wasting today. I've been doing school since like 10. I got some history done, much art homework... and of course, lesson 1.9 in math. Now to start chapter two. I think I'll be up all night doing this... it just takes too long!!

Whyyyyyyyyy.......

I just... I don't know, I need somebody to do it for me or something. It's so frustrating and so tedious and GAH. I HATE math, darnit....

Heeellllllpppp!

************************************************************************************

So. I just now finished math. WHEW. And now I kind of feel sick... which is no good cause I still have to do some biology. And perhaps some reading for mom's lit class. We shall see... I just need a break from school. A break from life might be good too... and that's why God created naps. But darnit, I can't sleep in the day time. Agg.......

But at least I finished math. That was my main agitation. Goodbye's too good a word, babe, so I'll just say fare the well...

Ooh. Last night I drew this picture. It's called "You are the Dandelion". :) It was based off a picture of me eating ice cream in Truckee... I just took out my sticky-ice-cream-fingers and fudged a few things here and there. But I like it. Anyways.... I'm gonna go... eat something. Yes.

"But I learned fast how to keep my head up...

Cause I know there is this side of me that wants to grab the yoke from the pilot and just fly the whole mess into the sea..."


I forgot to remind myself this morning that I hate Tuesdays. With passion. I feel like I'm stuck in this mental "blah", and my body is stuck in a physical "ouch". The "ouch" from kickboxing, and the "blah" from God knows what. Maybe it's the 4th week blues or something. Maybe I've just got too much school going on and it's dragging me down. Maybe I'm hungry. Maybe it's been too long since my last cup of coffee? This is truthful.

I know I recently apologized for only writing to rant, but I'm in a ranty mood and I think I've got reason. So rant I shall.

My math teacher assigned us the last math lesson all over again (on TOP of the next lesson) because the stupid forty year olds don't know how to divide 4 by 1. And I nearly died in gym. And there was this creeper guy who came in and just stood there watching us until the teacher asked him to leave... and my neck hurts now because I was hunched over looking at my painting of leaves for 3 hours in art class.

And the sun is insufferably sunny today. The nerve.

So basically, tomorrow, I've got to:

• Read a module of biology and somehow do the chapter test before next Friday.
• Read a chapter in history and take notes on at least forty million different things.
• Finish reading something by Hawthorne for literature.
• Do TWO stinking math lessons.
• Study for an art vocabulary test on Thursday.
• Find an object or photo of an object that is mainly comprised of lines. (Isn't everything kind of?)
• Get on the stinkin website that the homeschool parents suddenly decided to make us take tests on every day, that I've been ignoring for a month....
  
• There was something else, I know it....
• Oh! Practice piano. Lessons started back up again on Monday.

It doesn't sound like much but all that stuff takes me a loong time. And when I'm tense I'm so wrapped up in being tense that I forget about everything else. I know it's ridiculous.. but what can I do? That's one more thing to add to the list.

• Find a way to get a better attitude.

What Mr. Ericson would call "PMA" - Positive Mental Attitude. Right. More like PMS.

In art class, Julie played a song that nearly killed me with laughter. It was this real jaunty little tune with the guy's perky voice. At first I wasn't paying attention, but I think Laura, Amelia and I all tuned in at the same time. The lyrics were something like: "All the people that I meet, I HATE YOU. All the people on the street, I HATE YOU." Kind of depressing at first, but after you've got it stuck in your head for 3 hours, it kind of grows on you... and now it makes me happy. Weird...

Alright. I need to do something... but faather, I just want... to... sing!
Maybe, small tyke, maybe.
Until then, I remain, as ever, me.

If I ever leave this world alive...

Meanwhile, a mere few hours later...

I think I'm going slightly mad. And I think math pushed it. I did it surprisingly fast, but now as mom fills the house with weird smells for a creative writing project, and my cat continues her idiotic existence, and Kate occasionally yells things like, "I can't! Nooo, I'm always right!" when no one is even in the room with her, I notice I have a headache. Perhaps some coffee.

Yes, that did the trick.

I can't really explain why I'm so aggravated that Kate didn't like my story. It's picking at me slowly, getting more and more obnoxious. I can get along with telling myself we just have different opinions. What drives me crazy is her continual, relentless belief that "sooner or later I'll see she's right."

OOH, another annoyance about this story. I was complaining to Mom about it, who I haven't let read it because... well, I don't really know why. First of all, if she reads it, so will Dad, and I don't know that he'd like it. I think Mom'll either hate it or love it, and I can't take another person hating it; while if she loves it, she'll want to share it with everybody. And I think I'll always be touchy about who sees my writings. At least, until I get published. ;)

Anyway. So I'm talking to Mom about it, and she says, "Well the first page was really good --" Erm, what? First page?? I hadn't let her see it. So she tries to cover up: "You left it up on the computer and I just looked at the first page." Heh. I've never left things up on the computer screen for this very reason.

The only reason I'm not reallllly all that mad about it was because Mom's never done stuff like this before. I guess I somewhat brought it upon myself by not letting her see it yet. But still... I didn't like that, no sir.

Eeee. New subject. I just realized that most of the time when I write I'm either depressed or agitated about something. Sorry about that...

Whenever I listen to Irish music I get this amazing feeling that makes me want to run along hilltops and sing along. Sort of the reaction Mom gets when we watch "sound of music." This feeling gets kind of annoying after a while, because for now, I can't. So I comfort myself with thinking of the year I'll spend in Ireland after college.... *sigh*

Well it's not a given that I'll go, but by golly, I'm gonna do everything I can to give it a shot. All my life I've had various ideas about what I want. This idea about Ireland suddenly makes it all within reach. It's the first time I've been so sure about something this close. If you call 6 years "close"...

These past two days it's been gray and gloomy. Finally. Is that weird that I like this weather better than sunshine? Mom says it's the Irish in me. ;) Maybe one of these days it'll rain. It's always nice when it rains in the autumn...

Silly me. I got on here so I could post short stories and such... now I'm doing what normal people do and journaling. Well, it's a start...

Dream every night that one will come true...

Being a procrastinator really takes it out of you. I've got soooo much vc homework, group solutions homework (which is pretty gay since it hasn't even STARTED yet...) and piano lessons are in like an hour... I've got at least a million and one things that I should and could be doing. But nope. I've been writing all day. Well, if I flunk school, at least I'll have a good case of carpel tunnel to keep me busy.

Around mid-August I wrote a 49 page story in about a week and a half, and I've been repairing it ever since. I let Kate read it and she pretty much unknowingly tore it down... but then, Kate and I have very different opinions on things when music, art, and literature are concerned. Well, not so much art. But at least definitely music and literature. So I sent it off to Katrina. Jon, too, but he didn't write back. Anyway, Katrina gave good advice and I've spent all morning fixing the blasted thing up. Hopefully it'll be worth the effort.

I am slightly proud of myself though, in any case. Normally when people give me critiques - no matter how nicely put or how true it may be - I have a really hard time accepting that it's not perfect. I felt that way for a few seconds yesterday but I buckled down and made myself look at it from another angle. I think it worked.

Monday's always depress me, because I know there's a whole other five days to get through before the blessed weekend. That, and I know school is the next day. It seems especially hard to go back after weekends.

Alright. No more putting it off. I should go do math, then history... hah, as if I could do those both in an hour. Well... maybe just history then. Math and biology when I get back. I have a feeling this will be a late one. Day, that is. Or night. Both? Well. Studying at my desk with coffee and music in the wee hours actually sounds refreshing. Yup, I'm in one of those moods again....

P.s. Why is it that whenever I'm writing in here, the song "she's electric" comes on my playlist? I think it's a sign. But I've got far more cousins than just a dozen...
"She is electric, can I be electric, too?"

"I'm a new soul, I came to this strange world...

"...hoping I could learn a bit 'bout how to give and take...


That song really has nothing to do with anything. I'm just listening to it right now. Somehow it seems to fit whatever mood I'm in, though. Today I'm in a confused-and-tired-and-not-knowing-why mood. And yessir, it fits alright...

I write with a dilemma in mind today. Today at church Kate mentioned something about her happiest memory. She wouldn't tell me what it was, because that spoils it apparently. But it got me thinking. I've had a lot of happy moments, but I can't think of one particular instant that stands out where I thought, "this is the happiest I've ever been."

Why is that?

I can think of my saddest memories, or the most scared memories... but of course, that's easy. But all in all, I'd say I've had a more happy life than not, so it should be easy to come up with something outstandingly happy. Right?

I remember one afternoon when I was feeling particularly poetic and philosophical. It was after a long Group Solutions day, and I was kinda down, and it started pouring rain. I had nothing to do so I grabbed my mp3player and went out and sat on the front lawn all alone, in the pouring rain, listening to all my slow, sad songs like that make me think, like "across the universe" and "fake plastic trees." That was my most zen moment, haha. Pleasant and peaceful. But not altogether happy.

One time at Mile High Pines camp when I went with the kids from Groups for a service trip, we were walking back to our cabins late at night after a billion rounds of poker. I was with Noah and Amelia, and we were all talking, walking quick because there was snow on the ground and it was freezing. Conveniently, none of us had jackets either. Then I looked up at saw how close and huge the stars looked, because up in the mountains, it's pitch black everywhere except the sky. I pointed this out and we stopped walking and just looked up for a long time. And something about it just made me really happy.

Then last week when I got out of my 3 hour art class, I nearly exploded with revelry at the thought of buying a long-anticipated soda. But does that really count?

I can think of multiple situations that always make me happy. Being at the harbor. Playing poker with Jon and Kate and listening to Sargent Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Writing. Listening to music in the car, just staring out the window and thinking. Being outside in the freezing rain and not even thinking about being cold. Wearing my beanie on an "in the house" day. Drinking coffee.

But there's not one particular instant of any of these that stands out by itself. Does everybody have one special moment? Maybe mine just hasn't come yet. Something tells me I'll know when it does. Or, at least, I'll know a few years later...

"Of all the things I've lost....

... I miss my mind the most."

Mark Twain said that, and I think he was speaking for about 14/15ths of the population. The remaining 1 percent doesn't count merely because they're the ones who haven't realized their minds are missing. Yet.

So anyways, this is my first official journalish blog on here. Congratulations to me. I'm not sure who will read this or why, but I never was one to shy away from writing just for the sake or writing. My fingers could use the exercise. Well not really... they're more active than my toes, anyway, but you don't see them itching to run for the sake of running. I guess I should admit a first fault of mine: I'm a rambler. A shameless rambler at that. But nobody's stopped me yet, so I shall ramble on until I can ramble no longer.

Today was Saturday. I should have been doing lots of things... homework mainly, cleaning my room, cleaning the bathroom, helping Mom with dinner... but no. Beth came over and I spent the day sitting and talking with the rest of the family, which is an enjoyable way as any to pass the day. Just, not as productive. And now, instead of stirring the macaroni, I sit here, trying to figure out just why I signed onto yet another addictive website. Time will tell, I guess.

Just moments ago, my cat was climbing on the printer. A few minutes after that, my sister was climbing on the furniture. I wonder if it's an epidemic or something.

Tomorrow is Sunday, and as it's the first Sunday of the month, we have the church potluck afterwards. That should be fun, even though it'll be the first time Jon won't be there. Which makes me very sad...

See, Jon went away to stinking college a few weeks ago, and he took along half the enjoyment of staying home. I'm getting tired of people leaving. Beth left home a long while ago, and then got married - and kudos to her. And Jesse. Kudos all around. But then the little baby we babysat for months was taken away, and then my dog died, and then I lost my keyboard. (Almost sounds like a country song, doesn't it? Except it'd be a truck, rather than a keyboard... and a boyfriend, rather than a baby.) Then Jon left, and Kate's talking about leaving next year... so, this means that I have at least another four years at home - alone - before I, too, fly the coop. And this is an oddly devastating feeling.

On the upper hand, I got a new keyboard today. The keys light up when you play them, which would be annoying, except that you can switch it off. So now I'll just enjoy playing in my bedroom with the lights off, with the keyboard lights on. It'll look cool if I'm playing something fast, like Joplin....

I don't know any Joplin. Shoot.

Well... I've kind of forgotten that when you write, it should have a point... I think I'll save my fingers from carpel tunnel until I really have something to say. That, and there's a bathroom and scrub-brush with my name on it. And a bowl of macaroni. Somehow the combination sounds unpleasant, though.

Until next time.