(no subject)
I think my creative juices are flowing a little too well right now. I'm thinking of doing a vid to go with 'Breakaway' now. To make things worse, I was reading a Sam/Brooke Popular fic last night and now I'm messing my Brooke characterizations up. LOL
So I was watching the Emmy's last night, bored out of my mind. But despite that I watched Access Hollywood and at the very end there was this interesting little shot of Felicity Huffman and Eva Longoria. Foreheads pressed together, hugging each other, looking for all the world like they had just got done making out! I have to admit, it was HOT looking!
Anyway, in a completely horrendous segway, another small update to Breakaway. Smaller and quicker seems to be the way to go.
July 1st 1999,
Happy Birthday to me!
Huh, maybe some of Brooke’s cheeriness is rubbing off. Who knew. I guess with the amount of time we spend together, it was bound to happen one of these days. Although I’m really hoping my moodiness doesn’t manage to latch itself onto her in return. Brooke is one of the most positive people I’ve ever known. She finds that tiny little ray of sunshine in what everyone else sees as the storm of the century. I think she’s the only thing in my life that I can always count on to cheer me up on even the hardest of my days.
Today was one of them.
My birthday has been something I dread ever since the accident. As a kid I spent weeks anticipating it, but now, it’s just another day. Brooke assures me that it’s because I’m just getting older each year, and that’s why it loses it’s luster. But as much as I know she means well, it’s more than that. I don’t think anyone wants to spend their birthdays without their parents and loved ones. And for the last two years I look over the dining room table as I’m blowing out my candles and I’m painfully aware that I’ll always be missing one person who should have been there for much longer than what she was.
This year was better than I expected it to be though.
Brooke came over this morning bright and early, which for a weekend, should have really annoyed me. But seeing her come bouncing into my bedroom completely unannounced, with that gleam in her eye that I’ve come to recognize as an assured sign that she’s about to get us in potential trouble, I couldn’t help but smile. She had the entire day planned out, around my father’s special birthday dinner that he’s been cooking me these last two years now. She drug me off to the mall first, heading straight to the record store, bypassing all the designer boutiques on the way, shocking what little sleepiness that was left in me. Five new CD’s later, of which she actually stood there with me reading over the tracks, something she’s never done, we ended up at the food court sharing an oversized Pina Colada from Orange Julius.
I worry about that, Brooke already seems to love the cocktails, alcoholic or not. I can just picture her as a sorority girl, hanging at the keg parties every weekend. And it’s not a visual I enjoy. But I’m not about to get on her case for something that’s not even a problem right now. I can worry about it once we get to high school.
After our smoothie recharge she pulled me towards the multiplex. I fully expected to be sitting through two hours of some kind of mindless comedy or a romantic sob fest. So I was well prepared for either Mike Myers with disturbingly bad teeth, or Julia Roberts pretending she doesn’t love a guy who’s fool enough to fall for her. Brooke shocked the hell out of me though when she bought two matinee tickets to the latest Sean Connery movie, Entrapment. I’m not ashamed to admit that I have a bit of a crush on him. Sure, he’s old enough to be my grandfather, but there’s something so sexy about that accent. Brooke teases me incessantly about it, with a few well placed ‘eww’s’ and ‘gross’s’. So with a large bag of popcorn sitting between us, we settled down for a two hour adventure.
Ironically enough, I came away from the theatre with less of a Sean crush and an odd appreciation for Catherine Zeta Jones. It was a weird feeling really, but I didn’t worry too much about it once Brooke started going on and on about how great her makeup was. I figured that my best friend is starting to rub off even more than I was aware of. I’m beginning to think it’s really not a bad thing, I could certainly do with lightening up a bit.
On our way back home we managed to pass by the cemetery my mother is buried in. I’ve avoided going there since the day we laid her to rest. I’ve just never been ready to visit that place. I can’t describe the reason why, it’s just this incredible hesitance whenever I even think about standing in front of her marble headstone, looking down at the earth below my feet, knowing that she’s down there, turning to dust and bone. The thought that’s all there is left of her, it just makes my veins run cold. As we passed by the outer gates, Brooke grabbed my hand between both of hers and pulled me to a stop. I tried to avoid her gaze, because I knew what she wanted, what she was asking me. She was content to just stand there, holding my hand, until I finally pulled my head up to look at her. All I saw was her comforting half smile and concerned chocolate eyes. It took me another minute, but I finally decided that it was time. I took a step towards the path that leads through the memorial park, when I felt Brooke start to release her grip on me. I turned back around and tightened the hold between us, giving her a hesitant smile and then continued on into the cemetery.
I honestly don’t know how long we stayed there, I just know that I was grateful Brooke was with me. Because I think it might have taken me another two years if she hadn’t gently encouraged me to get over my reservations and finally visit my mom.
Once we got home Brooke gave me a big hug and assured me that if I needed anything, to call her right away. I thanked her for taking such good care of me and she just gave me that little smirk she does and told me that it’s a hard job, but if she didn’t do it, who would. My best friend, always the smartass. But I know she was just teasing.
I think I’m starting to finally make some progress. I’m dealing, thanks to Brooke. I hope she knows just how important she is to me and how much I really do need her.
Peyton
I lay the journal down bedside me on the mattress while I reach over to the nightstand for a handful of tissues. I’m gonna smack Peyton for making me cry on the one day I’m not wearing waterproof mascara.
I remember getting up that morning, determined to make her forget for a few hours that it was another birthday without her mother. I never was really sure how it went over with Peyton though. I was used to her humoring me and my nutty whims, with a playful roll of her eyes. So I was always worried that my little plan for that day was just another thing that she went along with because that was just the way our relationship worked. I’m thankful now that wasn’t the case.
And hmm, I never knew that PS was digging on Catherine Zeta Jones. That explains why she was so grossed out when she married Michael Douglas. Gonna have to remember to tease her for THAT too now.
I flip the page again, surprised to see the date of the next entry.
So I was watching the Emmy's last night, bored out of my mind. But despite that I watched Access Hollywood and at the very end there was this interesting little shot of Felicity Huffman and Eva Longoria. Foreheads pressed together, hugging each other, looking for all the world like they had just got done making out! I have to admit, it was HOT looking!
Anyway, in a completely horrendous segway, another small update to Breakaway. Smaller and quicker seems to be the way to go.
July 1st 1999,
Happy Birthday to me!
Huh, maybe some of Brooke’s cheeriness is rubbing off. Who knew. I guess with the amount of time we spend together, it was bound to happen one of these days. Although I’m really hoping my moodiness doesn’t manage to latch itself onto her in return. Brooke is one of the most positive people I’ve ever known. She finds that tiny little ray of sunshine in what everyone else sees as the storm of the century. I think she’s the only thing in my life that I can always count on to cheer me up on even the hardest of my days.
Today was one of them.
My birthday has been something I dread ever since the accident. As a kid I spent weeks anticipating it, but now, it’s just another day. Brooke assures me that it’s because I’m just getting older each year, and that’s why it loses it’s luster. But as much as I know she means well, it’s more than that. I don’t think anyone wants to spend their birthdays without their parents and loved ones. And for the last two years I look over the dining room table as I’m blowing out my candles and I’m painfully aware that I’ll always be missing one person who should have been there for much longer than what she was.
This year was better than I expected it to be though.
Brooke came over this morning bright and early, which for a weekend, should have really annoyed me. But seeing her come bouncing into my bedroom completely unannounced, with that gleam in her eye that I’ve come to recognize as an assured sign that she’s about to get us in potential trouble, I couldn’t help but smile. She had the entire day planned out, around my father’s special birthday dinner that he’s been cooking me these last two years now. She drug me off to the mall first, heading straight to the record store, bypassing all the designer boutiques on the way, shocking what little sleepiness that was left in me. Five new CD’s later, of which she actually stood there with me reading over the tracks, something she’s never done, we ended up at the food court sharing an oversized Pina Colada from Orange Julius.
I worry about that, Brooke already seems to love the cocktails, alcoholic or not. I can just picture her as a sorority girl, hanging at the keg parties every weekend. And it’s not a visual I enjoy. But I’m not about to get on her case for something that’s not even a problem right now. I can worry about it once we get to high school.
After our smoothie recharge she pulled me towards the multiplex. I fully expected to be sitting through two hours of some kind of mindless comedy or a romantic sob fest. So I was well prepared for either Mike Myers with disturbingly bad teeth, or Julia Roberts pretending she doesn’t love a guy who’s fool enough to fall for her. Brooke shocked the hell out of me though when she bought two matinee tickets to the latest Sean Connery movie, Entrapment. I’m not ashamed to admit that I have a bit of a crush on him. Sure, he’s old enough to be my grandfather, but there’s something so sexy about that accent. Brooke teases me incessantly about it, with a few well placed ‘eww’s’ and ‘gross’s’. So with a large bag of popcorn sitting between us, we settled down for a two hour adventure.
Ironically enough, I came away from the theatre with less of a Sean crush and an odd appreciation for Catherine Zeta Jones. It was a weird feeling really, but I didn’t worry too much about it once Brooke started going on and on about how great her makeup was. I figured that my best friend is starting to rub off even more than I was aware of. I’m beginning to think it’s really not a bad thing, I could certainly do with lightening up a bit.
On our way back home we managed to pass by the cemetery my mother is buried in. I’ve avoided going there since the day we laid her to rest. I’ve just never been ready to visit that place. I can’t describe the reason why, it’s just this incredible hesitance whenever I even think about standing in front of her marble headstone, looking down at the earth below my feet, knowing that she’s down there, turning to dust and bone. The thought that’s all there is left of her, it just makes my veins run cold. As we passed by the outer gates, Brooke grabbed my hand between both of hers and pulled me to a stop. I tried to avoid her gaze, because I knew what she wanted, what she was asking me. She was content to just stand there, holding my hand, until I finally pulled my head up to look at her. All I saw was her comforting half smile and concerned chocolate eyes. It took me another minute, but I finally decided that it was time. I took a step towards the path that leads through the memorial park, when I felt Brooke start to release her grip on me. I turned back around and tightened the hold between us, giving her a hesitant smile and then continued on into the cemetery.
I honestly don’t know how long we stayed there, I just know that I was grateful Brooke was with me. Because I think it might have taken me another two years if she hadn’t gently encouraged me to get over my reservations and finally visit my mom.
Once we got home Brooke gave me a big hug and assured me that if I needed anything, to call her right away. I thanked her for taking such good care of me and she just gave me that little smirk she does and told me that it’s a hard job, but if she didn’t do it, who would. My best friend, always the smartass. But I know she was just teasing.
I think I’m starting to finally make some progress. I’m dealing, thanks to Brooke. I hope she knows just how important she is to me and how much I really do need her.
Peyton
I lay the journal down bedside me on the mattress while I reach over to the nightstand for a handful of tissues. I’m gonna smack Peyton for making me cry on the one day I’m not wearing waterproof mascara.
I remember getting up that morning, determined to make her forget for a few hours that it was another birthday without her mother. I never was really sure how it went over with Peyton though. I was used to her humoring me and my nutty whims, with a playful roll of her eyes. So I was always worried that my little plan for that day was just another thing that she went along with because that was just the way our relationship worked. I’m thankful now that wasn’t the case.
And hmm, I never knew that PS was digging on Catherine Zeta Jones. That explains why she was so grossed out when she married Michael Douglas. Gonna have to remember to tease her for THAT too now.
I flip the page again, surprised to see the date of the next entry.