"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.