(no subject)
I feel like writing. Real writing. Reading journals where the owner really -writes- does that to me, gives me the feeling of need to explain my psyche, tell my life, draw you in. Doesn't always work. Dad wants me to write a book and have it published so I can get into college, essentially, use five days and get down some 140 pages of barely comprehendable literature then give it Gavin, have him print off five copies (he works for a publishing company) and be able to say I published a book at sixteen. I might feel like a cheat while Chelsea Brown has her novel and children's book, and Bea does NanoWrimo every year, but o well I suppose. I have been crazy productive lately, super effiecient and happy to be working. Reminds me of Dad telling Sionnain she couldn't -really- relax because she'd never been high. Don't ask why. I like my crazy happy nature, like how no matter how bad shit gets I can still somehow smile and say it's all cool. I'm like a daisy on prozac, but I like being that way. I'm leaving this entry public. I don't end up writing much, not as much as I think in the voice of a narrator. There's just something about knowing that maybe someone would stumble across the journal, the one entry that I manage to get out clearly, the one that tells so much about me yet also retains the air of mystery. Mystique. In Boston I thought I had broken reality, thought I had finally discovered my hidden mutant ability, thought I could go invisible like J.Alba. I thought maybe the anti-soda had paid off. Sionnain broke my dreams, pointed out that there was a crack/bump in the mirror that was causing my invisibility, not a superpower of my own. It's like her, to use science when she should use silence. Maybe the placebo effect would have allowed me to actually learn new power, but now I'll always have the doubt and insecurity disallowing me from truly trying. I can't currently use my left thumb, at least not in an opposable manner. Yesterday I was on the trampoline, getting thrown around but not as much as normal. Maybe it makes my back sore, maybe I should have had an examination after the car accident, but I doubt it's worth actually worrying about. Ren gave me antibounce, intentionally, but the antibounce accidently threw me off the trampoline, landing in the springs then flying over the edge onto the rough leafy ground of Luc's house. It's almost happened so many times before, it would have had to eventually. I felt pain, unusual, and said I think my thumb is broken or dislocated. Wait, I can move it, ok, probably just sprained, but today I can't really do anything with it. I don't want a crippled thumb, but I also don't want some sort of cast right before going to Arrowhead. I swam maybe once last time, this time I will waterski. I declare it. I am eating the same meal right now that I ate for lunch the day of leaving last time to Arrowhead, a year ago (slightly more). I love when the rice is near completely soaked with Chinese sauce, but also when it's without. It's always good. I also really like water chesnuts. I like when it rains, a drizzle or enough that you're completely soaked. I always end up still warm. I like sunny days, when you can go out and play and play and play into the night or when you feel like just going and lying on the ground, comfortable regardless of terrain. Cyndi Lauper just came onto iTunes. Girls just wanna have fun. I'm making a girly mix, either those songs so girly you're almost almost embarassed, but instead you smile, those songs you can sing along to in the car, driving to get ice cream from the guy that gives you a discount for being pretty or for smiling just enough. It so far only has four songs; this one makes me think of Chloe, singing out the car window after a volleyball game. 7th or 8th grade. I haven't seen her in years, strange, that. I was happy then, too. I feel like taking a long long shower, not just washing hair boday and shaving, but washing my face and brushing my teeth, so that I step out completely new and completely clean, then putting on my fairy dress and wings and going around smiling at people, not to scare them, not for shock value, but to help them smile too. I think the only reason I'm not wearing it is because I'll be inside all day (or nearly) and cleaning. I don't know what I'm doing Friday other than packing for Arrowhead at some point, so maybe I'll be able to go out and wear it. Maybe I can stop by Michael's and buy wire and better elastic, fix my wings up nice enough to actually wear them a lot. Maybe I can stop buy that bright bright pink store at the Northridge mall, the one for little girls where they had face painting and games, glitter and sparkles and scented pink playthings, where they had more wings than I would have expected in one place. I might need more wings, a wardrobe of wings. If I had a wishstick and a crown I would look exactly like my icon, except that she is bustier and has tattoos and purple hair. It's close enough.
I just had a conversation with a friend from Kindergarten, we've both recently found gifts from one to the other, from the younger younger years, little kids say I love you so much. I say it to my friends too, but I didn't really remember saying it a lot then. Maybe it didn't seem extreme, just right. People grow up too fast. I don't want to grow up. I don't want Luke to go to college. I want to live in NeverNeverLand.
I taught Luke to play cribbage yesterday. He caught on pretty quickly, though on one hand he did miss sixteen points and I had to accost him with cussies, so we sat there cussing like sailors, or like Irish folk in a pub, just because it was fun. Maybe we can play more in Arrowhead.
For the last two nights I didn't sleep in a sleeping bag on a mattress on the floor. I slept in a pile of laundry. I just found out that my trip to Arrowhead is departing earlier than I had thought, so I will have to leave and do things soon. Will clean everything dirty then clean me, then clean the clean things. Maybe the warm water will help my wounds. The most annoying aren't the possibly injured back, just the inept thumb and the thumb with left over of a blister from tug-of-war in Utah that is scratchy. Maybe Ren will give me a back massage in the car tomorrow. Her new nickname is Bullwinkle, simply because I get to be Rocky for having goggles. I wonder if I should wear my goggles to Arrowhead... I will because really, how can anything go wrong when one is wearing shiny Chinese goggles?
I just had a conversation with a friend from Kindergarten, we've both recently found gifts from one to the other, from the younger younger years, little kids say I love you so much. I say it to my friends too, but I didn't really remember saying it a lot then. Maybe it didn't seem extreme, just right. People grow up too fast. I don't want to grow up. I don't want Luke to go to college. I want to live in NeverNeverLand.
I taught Luke to play cribbage yesterday. He caught on pretty quickly, though on one hand he did miss sixteen points and I had to accost him with cussies, so we sat there cussing like sailors, or like Irish folk in a pub, just because it was fun. Maybe we can play more in Arrowhead.
For the last two nights I didn't sleep in a sleeping bag on a mattress on the floor. I slept in a pile of laundry. I just found out that my trip to Arrowhead is departing earlier than I had thought, so I will have to leave and do things soon. Will clean everything dirty then clean me, then clean the clean things. Maybe the warm water will help my wounds. The most annoying aren't the possibly injured back, just the inept thumb and the thumb with left over of a blister from tug-of-war in Utah that is scratchy. Maybe Ren will give me a back massage in the car tomorrow. Her new nickname is Bullwinkle, simply because I get to be Rocky for having goggles. I wonder if I should wear my goggles to Arrowhead... I will because really, how can anything go wrong when one is wearing shiny Chinese goggles?