Rambling.

While sitting cross-legged on the living room floor last night, a notebook in my lap and an orange marker in my hand, I watched my brother play a video game while I doodled mindlessly on the page, wondering why words weren't coming out. I stared into space and said to no one in particular, "I can't write."

Somewhere inside of me, though, I didn't believe that. I don't believe I can't write, I don't even believe I have writers block or anything.

I think that right now, my emotions are so strong and present that I am a little bit overwhelmed, and because of that, I can't exactly put those intense feelings down. I've tried many times over the past few days, but I'm keeping them locked inside, as if I would lose them if I shared them. I'm not going to lose them. They will always be there, bright and loud and obvious and beautiful.

A short break won't hurt me. From writing, I mean. I'll study for my GED, start notes for my next project, edit BH... I have plenty to keep me occupied.

Oh, and poetry. I'm supposed to be giving that another try. ;D


"At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet." -Plato

Tense.

After the past two nights, I shouldn't be nervous or afraid anymore, but I can't really help it.


Where has my head been? I haven't written about anything. Thanksgiving was decent. I spent most of my day clinging to my brother like I was six years old again. I don't know why. He keeps me safe, and I know that he has problems being around a lot of people, too. It's comforting. He's very sweet to me now, which makes me feel guilty for wanting to strangle him as often as I do.

A few days ago, I was being a bitch to him. A sad look came over his face, and he asked, "Why are you being so mean today?"

I immediately softened up, told him I was sorry, and tried to keep myself from acting like that anymore.

I think it was just the fact that I'd spent so much time with him, and I needed space, because after being gone for a little over a day, I was excited to see him when he came over today.


Christmas sucks, I'll pass this year.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don't know what to say. I've been kind of speechless, paralyzed, since last night.

I just know that my mind absolutely refuses to focus on anything but a certain person, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Goddamn, I am so happy.

(Mostly) Pointless!

Just a few pictures from today. As you'll notice, I prefer Josh and Trinity to nearly everyone else. Boo.



I love these boys. Cody, Josh, Nick. Cody and Nick are twins, and I love them dearly. They're only a year or so older than Josh and they're both married already. We never see them anymore. I miss them so much.

Genie (Trinity's mom) and Josh.

Josh, Trinity, and my mother.

My grandma, Aunt Donna, Aunt Kathy, and my mother. All four are kind of crazy, but I adore them.

Oddly, this is probably my favorite picture of the day. We stopped off at my grandma's house before heading back into town, and this was on a side table that was nowhere near where my grandma usually sits. It is also angled away. It made me a little sad. The picture, by the way, is my grandma and my papa when they were younger. He died on Christmas Eve of 1996. Of course I didn't have much time to be close to him, but from what I did know about him, he was amazing. I miss him. Christmas has kind of sucked without him.

Anyway, I wonder how often she thinks of him, or how much she misses him. I know my mom misses him. She still cries about his death all the time.


Still happy. What an odd note to end this on.

Bodily by Ani DiFranco

So I'm trying to make new memories
In cities where we fell in love
My head just barely above
The darkest water I've ever known

You had me in that cage
You had me jumping through those hoops for you
Still, I think I'd stoop for you
Stoop for your eyes alone


Usually, I punctuate incomplete sentences. It really bothers me to look at them without a period or something, but it also bothers me when an incomplete sentence is punctuated.

Yeeeeeeeeeah.

Save me.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I have to go out of town, and I have to see my family.

That isn't completely horrible, it's just the... "Why don't you have God in your life? I think you'd have a lot less problems if you'd just go to church and accept Jesus Christ as your savior. He'll forgive you for your sins! Come on, come pray with us. It won't hurt you. Praying will make you stronger, it'll change your life! Whether you like it or not, you are one of God's children..."

I don't want to complain too much, though. I enjoy them when my anxiety is under control, and it will be tomorrow. Dr. Murphy filled my meds early (I love her) and I'm probably going to get drunk before I go. Hopefully no one notices, though it's pretty obvious. No one noticed last Christmas, though.

Next week: Monday, two appointments. One with my therapist, one with my primary care doc. Friday, one appointment. With my psychiatrist. I think she's going to give me a higher dosage of Abilify, since it's been decent so far.

I'm afraid to believe that we've finally found something that works. I've tried so many different medications over the past few years, and had so many different reactions to them all, and here I am, a new psychiatrist, and the very first thing she gives me, it works?

I'm not getting my hopes up.

But I feel better now that I have in a long time. It could be the meds, it could be other things. I'm not entirely sure.


I think it is important to note that I don't feel guilty anymore about leaving my dad. I think I finally got to that point a few days ago, when I realized that he has found happiness with someone else, and is living now. He was an empty shell, and she has brought him back. It's nice. It has taken a lot of pressure from my shoulders. For the longest, I felt so bad that my mother left him and took me with her. It was partially my fault, and I couldn't stop feeling guilty when he was barely alive.

He's okay now, though, and so am I.


I saw Trinity tonight. She wanted me to chase her all over the apartment, but I was tired, so I just laid down on her bedroom floor and let her jump all over me. I wouldn't be surprised if I had a cracked rib or something now.


I think I should edit some of my story.

Some days I can't speak...

So I just write lyrics?


Here the chimes, did you know
That the wind, when it blows,
It is older than Rome
And our joy
And our sorrow?


Oh. I'm really happy. I didn't mean for that to sound sad. I don't know if it did, but that song (Cleanse Song by Bright Eyes) usually makes me feel better when I'm sad. I don't know.

Besides happy, I'm kind of confused. Hm.

I embarrass myself.

Too often.


Oh, before I go off on a rant about pointless bullshit, NEO actually isn't working. I did more damage than I did good! Go me, right?

And yes, Andy, the sticky goo thing was totally for you. >.>


Anyway, this isn't right.

Constantly, I feel this need to make myself into a different person for other people. If they're somewhat... dim, I try turn it down a bit. If they're ridiculously smart, I try to be, too (but it doesn't work very well and I end up looking like a fool, totally embarrassed and wanting to hide from them until the end of time).

I'm trying not to do that this time, even though the urge is worse than it has ever been.

Ah, I just don't want you to think I'm stupid.


I don't know why I do the "ah" or "oh" thing before my sentences. But I do it when I'm actually speaking, too. I don't like it.

I don't like a lot of things.

Why am I being so fucking critical of myself today?

I'll snap out of it soon. I wrote this thing on my Xanga addressing the fact that change was here, and I mentioned how I go crazy because I don't deal with it well, but I'm trying to do better now and not let it rule me completely.

From the liquor stores to the train stop floors
Your filthy room, your drama blues
I'm nothing if I'm not with you
Always right, always wrong
Dressing bad is like loving you:
There is nothing I haven't worn
Nothing I haven't said before

Telephone call.

I love Steph.

I bet she won't see this, but she'll see the title. So hi, Steph. I love you.


Since I got soda in the keys of my NEO, I haven't been using it. It's too difficult to type. It was a sad, sad day. -_- I was seriously freaking the fuck out about it... But anyway, I emailed the support team people on Friday and they emailed me back, telling me that I can clean the keypad with a q-tip and rubbing alcohol, and if that doesn't work, I can send it back and get it fixed for $60.

Not too bad, I guess.

So I go into my room with the rubbing alcohol and a handful of q-tips, sit down at my desk, and start murdering the shit out of that sticky goo with my tools (that sounded kind of wrong).

Once I'd finished, I walked into the living room and said to my mother and brother, "Would you like to come to the family waiting room to hear how surgery went?"

They just stared at me, not quite sure what I was going on about.

"Okay," I said. "This is fine, since you don't want to move..."

No response.

"I cleaned my NEO."

"Oh. How'd that go?" My brother was playing his video game, didn't really care.

"I have to go back for a second surgery after it recovers from this one. It should work fine by then." In other words, let the alcohol dry, go back in ten or so minutes, clean it again, and it should be working fine. The keys were already working much, much better.

I'm happy!


Anyway, last night was really good. I'm weird and emotional, and it isn't a good thing, but I'm learning how to handle it.

I'm more interested now that I've been in a long time. Some old feelings that I've missed are coming back. I feel like I'm becoming myself again. That person I used to be before I let depression kind of take shit over.

Maybe my new medication is helping?

I'm still not sure. It's been over two weeks now, and I'm not feeling any of the side effects too strongly, and I'm not sure if my mood has changed, though my previous few statements might be reason to believe that they've improved, and aren't as severe.

Sometimes, though, I feel like I'm more emotional now than before. I don't know what that is.

I don't know. Everything feels good. Except for my throat. It hurts and I can barely swallow. :( Not cooooool.

The Answer by Blue October

I am an automatic steeple for depressed and lonely people
My heart, while in its cage, is used to give and not recieve a thing
But the only funny thing
Is that I don't know how to give myself advice
I've got this post traumatic thing,
I've got this tattoo of a ring that lies
Around my wedding finger
And that's where I wanna state this claim
That I've gotta learn to live and dream
Before I go and get myself in love
In love
Before, before, before I go and get myself in love

So unlike me.

Last night wasn't very pleasant.

Nothing bad happened, really, it's just more like... I would've rather been at home, doing something alone, or hanging out with Josh. Luckily, he came to Dad's with me, so it wasn't so lonely/boring. My dad had some whiskey, so I drank a little bit and took a few Xanax and was passed out on the couch before my dad was asleep, which is... really, REALLY rare. But once he fell asleep, I woke up suddenly, and then was up for four or so more hours. Boo. :(

I think I'm supposed to be "celebrating" with my cousin tonight, but it's nearly 4:30 and I don't know what's going on, so I'm just like... eh.

My brother has been sick. As in, has a bad cold with chest congestion and all kinds of other grossness. It's sad. He's miserable, but keeps going into work.

I don't understand the way I feel about my brother. That sounds weird, so I'll explain: As children, we were incredibly hateful towards one another. It lasted until my mother and I left. Sure, we had a few good moments, sweet moments, but nothing that ever lasted for more than a small moment.

After my mother and I were gone, I realized how much I loved him. I missed him like hell. We began talking on the phone occasionally, seeing each other sometimes, but never really spending a lot of time together alone.

As I've grown up (and he has, too), he has turned into a lot more to me that just a brother. I trust him 100%, he is my best friend, he is my guidance when I'm lost, he is the closest person to me (other than my mother, of course, but he and I share that bond with her).

Anyway, I don't know what I'm getting at. There might be a slight dependence there now, just like any friendship. I want him around all the time. He gets on my nerves sometimes, but we get past it quickly. When I'm sad, he instantly makes things better. When I'm happy, he makes me happier.

I don't know. He's my favorite person in the world.

Something strange about it, I don't ever actually tell him what's bothering me. There's probably a lot he doesn't know, or a lot that doesn't come out at the appropriate times, but he knows it is there, and he... I don't know, understands it? He's four years older, and I feel like most things I've been through, he's been through, too.

What scares me is the idea of him getting a girlfriend. We discussed this a little bit last night. He even admits that he thinks more clearly when he's alone, and I definitely agree. I think I'm sort of wounded still from the last time he was in a relationship. That sounds somewhat selfish. I know he's still wounded, too. He was hurt. I was hurt, too, though. I lost him for a long time. I'm just afraid that if he finds a girl, it'll turn into that again.

But instead of worrying about that now, I'm just going to enjoy the things that are going on right now.

Raaaaambleeeee.

Goodbye.

Arg. :(

Patti wrote me a letter and gave it to me last night. I didn't read it until just now. It was so sweet, but it made me so sad. She went on about how I'm such a great friend, and such a beautiful person, and I just have to wonder how that is possibly true.

Half of the time, I'm annoyed with her "high school drama" as I typically call it, and my advice to handle the situation comes out in a harsh way, and I feel like a bitch afterwards but it's the only way I know how to handle it. The other half of the time, we're barely speaking because we're both busy, or just don't care, or something. She has seem me at my absolute worst, and who knows, maybe my absolute best, but too often, I'm at that spot at the bottom, and she can still call me a beautiful person?

...How?

I don't understand it. I don't think I really need to. If that's how she sees me, I should be happy. It was incredibly sweet, and very appreciated.


I feel off today. I have a slight idea why, but I'm hoping I'm wrong.

Tonight, I'm going to my dad's house to celebrate my birthday with him. I'm, hopefully, just going to get really drunk and pass out early. I don't feel like celebrating anymore. I don't feel like going over there. I don't feel like anything right now. :(

Anyone reading this should go listen to Fix You Up by Tegan and Sara. The first time they sing, "This love is all I have to give..." feels so incredibly sad (and true) to me. Ah, the whole song is so fucking good.

Fix You Up - Tegan and Sara

What do I
What do I
What do I need to do to see myself in a better mood?
And what do you
What do you
What do you need to do to get yourself in a better mood?

There's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
And there's not a lot for you to feel if you're not feeling it
You bring it up
And bring it in
And we'll get you fixed up in no time.

What I wanted most,
What I wanted most,
What I wanted most was to get myself all figured out
And what I figured out,
What I figured out,
What I figured out was I needed more time to figure you out

There's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
And there's not a lot for you to feel if you're not feeling it
You bring it up
And bring it in
And we'll get you fixed up in no time

This love is all I have to give
This love is all I have to give
This love is all I have to give
This love is all I have to give

There's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
And there's not a lot for you to feel if you're not feeling it
There's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
And there's not a lot for you to feel if you're not feeling it
You bring it up
And bring it in
And bring it in
And we'll get you fixed up in no...
We'll get you fixed up in no time

This love is all I have to give
This love...


Gotta get ready to go to my dad's.

Eh.

My head is hurting. I'm a little stressed right now, dealing with some business-y shit. My brother is sick. He's here with me. I'm tired. I have to go to my dad's house tonight. I don't want to. All I'm ever listening to anymore is Tegan and Sara. I get attached to people way too easily. I want to change (sort of). I'm 18 now. I bought cigarettes. And porn. And other things. Very interesting experiences. There is such thing as the Nasty Sluts magazine. Ooh.

I don't have anything good to say. I'm gonna have food and cake now. Bye.

Finished.

Just over 75,000 words. 205 pages. 19 days. I am finished.

Come in closer.

I have strange dreams.

I can't even remember what happened. I just remember who was there. And I remember waking up feeling really... confused.


I turn 18 tomorrow.

Comparison.

I don't know who I am compared to other artists, poets, writers. I'm not like them. I'm not as eloquent or as thoughtful, beautiful or put together, whether that image is on the outside or inside, too. I'm not okay with being quiet and going unnoticed most of the time. I feel like they have their feelings in order, or are in the process of figuring them out. (FYI, I know other artists, poets, writers aren't always like this, but it is what I see in them.)

I'm awkward and messy, inconsiderate sometimes, the opposite of beautiful and all out of place. I can't keep my mouth shut a lot and I feel ridiculously lonely if no one notices me or what I do. My emotions are chaotic and destructive and I haven't been in control of them for a really long time, and don't know where to begin in the process of figuring them out (if there is even a way to do so; they're so tangled).

I wish something would jump out and show me who I am and what I love about that person. I don't understand why I'm so obsessed with figuring out exactly who I am. Women who are 50 and just beginning to figure out who they are seem so beautiful to me, and I want to live that way, too, but I don't want to be in the dark until I'm that age.

I feel like I'm living in a world of "who would I be if--" rather than a "I am who I am because--". A world of "I need to change--" rather than "the things I love about myself are--".

Somehow, I want to be okay with my life being an ever-changing journey of discovery. Nothing is more fun that that, but it isn't fun unless you're open and willing to take the wild ride it will no doubt bring.

I'm trying to get myself there. I'm trying to get somewhere.

I've got nowhere to go.

My anxiety is in overdrive.

Birthday party.

Today was Trinity's birthday party. I can't really adequately put into words how... chaotic a huge indoor playground full of kids is.

I would never be able to work there. Oh, God. Those poor employees.

Still, it was fun. And Trinity had a blast. Here are some pictures.


At my apartment before the party. It was the first time I'd seen her in over two weeks, and she looked so gorgeous. I love this picture. ;D

Trinity in her princess dress and Genie. We'd just gotten to the party.

In the blacklight room. She was scared at first.

She really liked the poles, though. They changed colors.

Ahahahahaha, one of my favorites of the day. I need to go back and edit out the red eye. But I love this shit.

Her light-up princess cake.

The presents. Oh God, there were more after I took this...

Giant ice cream cone!

Blowing out her candle. Aw.

There was this giant stage with a microphone and all kinds of costumes. She went up and sang her favorite Hannah Montana song about 6 times. Each time, I was there, screaming and clapping for her. So cute.

My new favorite picture of my brother. The only one I have where he's actually smiling.

And that's all.

Early!

My dad asked me to come to his house to get the NEO because he knew I wasn't going to do well for the next few days knowing that it was here but I didn't have it. Ahaha, I love my dad.

He'd already put batteries in it and typed a sweet message for me. It was nice. I took it to the lake with me and practiced typing on it (typing on new things, I have to get used to it) and was really good at it. I just typed lyrics as Tegan and Sara sang.

It is ssssssssssssoooooooooo awesoooooooooooooooomeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

50,000!

TWO WEEKS. I am so happy. So so proud of myself.

My goal now is to finish by the end of November, no matter how many words it may end up as.

Sick sick sick.

I hate being sick. I don't want to be sick anymore.

Sunday is Trinity's birthday party. Tomorrow is the last day I'm allowed to be sick. No more sick. I hate being sick. GODDAMNIT, I DON'T WANT TO BE SICK ANYMORE.

...That is all.

Oh, except! I reached 48,468 words. That means I'm... 1,532 words away from being finished. I could be done by Saturday evening. Or maybe even before I go to bed.

Reaching 50k? No problem. Reaching the ending? Uhh...

Funny, Mom!

My mother had a dream yesterday night that about half a dozen or so publishers were fighting over who would be the ones to publish my book.

It made me laugh. My mom is silly. She believes it could happen, though. Well, maybe not the fighting, but the publishing.

It is a vague wish in the back of my mind. I don't think about it often because it feels so far away from me, but it is still there. A goal waiting to be pursued.

What's the deal with everyone asking me what I plan to do with my life lately? I don't know anymore now than I did yesterday.


I love Tegan and Sara.


edit: 44,378 words. I'll have 46,000 before I go to bed tomorrow.

Only eight more days.

:(

In 8 days, I will be 18.

I went from excited to terrified to excited again to... whatever this is right now. Disappointment. I shouldn't be disappointed yet. Nothing has even happened.

I'm preparing myself for the day, I suppose.

I realize there is nothing glorious about 18 besides adulthood (and that isn't very glorious in most aspects), so... I don't need that speech. I just want it to mean something.

Holy shit!

I'm so happy.

"You will be happy to know I ordered that NEO this morning and it will be shipped to my address at work. That way I am assured to get it. Happy birthday, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy New Year."

Ahahaha! Ah, I love my father! :D :D :D :D :D


Also, on another note, I think I did something to my left hand. As in, I fucked it up. I can't really describe where it is, so:



The red section is what hurts. I think it might be carpal tunnel. but I'm not sure because the pinky finger is controlled by a different nerve than the thumb, index, middle, and ring fingers. And I've had carpal tunnel before, but it was numbness rather than pain, and it was in my right hand. I don't know what it could be. It hurts pretty badly, though.

Oh, yesterday, I went to see this new doctor (because my regular doctor wanted me to, I don't know). He was really nice, but he poked me a lot, and when we were on our way home, I said, "I bet I'll have fingerprint bruises on my stomach where he was poking." I woke up this morning and lifted my shirt, and there were about six little bruises all along my right side. Hmm.

Also, I started my Christmas shopping yesterday. My mom had seen this beautiful angel... thing that she loved, and I sort of remembered it whenever I was thinking about what to get her. Josh took me to buy it, and then we went to Starship (record store) and I went into the 18+ room, ahaha. It was really interesting. Sex toys and pipes and bongs galore. I actually ended up picking out a pipe for my mom (her's broke) and helping my brother pick out a mini-bong (it's so fucking awesome!). I was too scared to attempt to pay for them myself, though, because if the guy asked for my ID, I would've been like, "Oh, sry, still a minor for ten days." Actually, only nine days now. What the fuck.

I came across So Jealous and If It Was You by Tegan and Sara, which I was totally lacking in my life, so I got them. Ah, and then Josh and I went and wandered around Barnes and Noble (SUCKS) and I bought a 2009 weekly planner (it's awesome) while he bought a book about botany. I love him; he is so smart.

After wasting a lot of time, we went and saw Role Models. It was fucking awesome. ;D

Then we went home and played Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas and it was brought to attention by not only my brother, but by Michael, too, that I a.) become more violent, and b.) curse a whole lot more while playing. I don't know. I'm a gangster?

Going to make hot chocolate and write now.

40,616

Oh, so tired. The second week slump is kicking my ass. I never have energy to write anymore, but I'm forcing it out at a pretty nice rate. I'm 9,384 words away from crossing 50k, but I'm positive that it will be longer than that. I probably won't be finished until somewhere between 60k and 70k. But that's just a guess right now. I could somehow figure out an ending between now and 50k (or somewhere around there), but I highly doubt it.

I'm feeling very unsure about my ending. It's so far away, and I don't know what will happen. So, so far away. I love writing, I love NaNo, but once I hit 50k, I'm pretty sure I'll have reached the maximum level of insanity possible before hospitalization.


...Not really, but I'm stressing myself out over this. :( Blah. Goodnight.

33,842

Oh, so tired. But oh, so happy with the progress I'm making. I'm over a week ahead of where I need to be still, and I love where everything is going. I love Evelyn and Grace, and I love Sam, and I love my bed because it's comfortable, and I love writing over 5,000 words in one day.

I also love Patti and today is her birthday. Happy birthday, Patti. I also love Steph and think that we'll be going out tomorrow, but I'm not entirely sure. I'm going to text her.

I have a massive headache.

I have new medication. Abilify.

I'm going to do things now.

Email to my father.

When I was younger, about 14, and my brother was about to turn 18, somehow the phrase "grown ass man" came into play. My brother apparently said it. Something along the lines of, "You can't tell me what to do, I'm a grown ass man." I'm nearing 18, and everytime I talk to my father, he says, "__ days until you're a grown ass woman!" and I just laugh. Truthfully, I don't want to be an adult in his eyes, because I know that as soon as I am, when I'm still not doing anything that measures up to his liking, he'll just see me as a loser. Plain and simple, a loser. And what use does he have in his life for losers?

He wants me to plan my future. Right now. And I have the vague outline of how I want things to go down, academically, but not in any other way.

He asked me to email him the AlphaSmart Neo thing that I want for my birthday. To email him information about it. I did, and he responded with something along the lines of, "I want to know it will assist you with your school work, and not just something you do as a leisure activity. What are your plans for the future once you become a grown ass woman?"

I thought long and hard, and this was the best response I could come up with:

"Well, after I get my GED, sometime in the spring (if my results come back before then; I'm hoping they will), I want to see about taking a writing course at TCC. That's school, right? Yes. And that would assist me. After that, I don't know, man. I need to talk to somebody, maybe a counselor at TCC or something. I don't know how exactly everything works. I know I'll need to take the ACT, and that can be my next step.

I know it seems like writing is something I do at my leisure (I'm not saying that it isn't), but you have to know that this is something I want to do for the rest of my life. I know it isn't a stable career choice, and I know I'll need something to fall back on, and I plan to find that something, but for right now, as long as I get my GED before May (and I'm going to), I'm still somewhat equal with where the kids in my class are. They're getting their diplomas, I'm getting the equivilant. Still, I realize it doesn't change the fact that at this current point in time, it is a leisure activity, but in order to get serious about it, I need to be able to write, not just at home in front of the desktop, but on the go.

So, a general overview of this email/what I plan to do upon becoming a grown ass woman:

I plan to take my GED, talk to a counselor and figure out everything I need to do, sign up for a writing course while studying for my ACT, see what kind of courses TCC offers to English majors, if and when (I'll go with WHEN on that one) I pass the ACT, I'll apply to take those courses at TCC, take the courses, most likely dislike school because they make me read crappy literary fiction and Shakespear (I can't stand Shakespear), but keep going because I know I need to, possibly focus on journalism as a main career, but that possibility will change numerous times in the next few years, eventually graduate and... live happily ever after.

Not the last part. I don't know. I know there will be a lot of bumps and roadblocks along the way, but I will get past them.

I know there is some money in an account for me that is specifically for when I go to school, and I will use that. I will apply for scholarships, I will save up money of my own, whatever I need to do to."

As I wrote it, I became more and more emotional. By the end, I was sobbing. My mother came home, and she asked me what was wrong. I just shrugged my shoulders. "Dad," was all I could say. Why the fuck do I get so emotional when it comes to him? I don't know. I just feel a lot of pressure from him to be something great, and what if I can't be something great? What if I want to live a simple life and skip all the college shit, and work shitty low-paying jobs my whole life? Will I still be good enough to him? I'd like to think so, but I'd bet not.

And so, I sent the email. He'll get it before he leaves work, I'm hoping (that's where he checks from). I'll call him later, after I get all of the crying and anger and annoyance out of my system, and we'll talk like normal, like this exchange never happened. I'm okay with that. We'll keep it seperate. But I don't want him to disregard my passion for writing as a simple "leisure" activity. I don't just write to pass the time, I don't just write because I'm bored. I write because I love it, because I want to live it, because if I didn't, there wouldn't be absolutely anything else that I'd feel like I'm good enough to do. This is the only thing I feel like I'm good at. I wish he would believe that. Or believe in me, in general.

23,103

On day five. Wow.


I'm going through a Beatles phase. I'm also going through a chocolate covered pretzel phase, but if I eat too many, I get a headache? Weird.

Thursday: appointment with psychiatrist, scurrrrred ;(
Friday: going over to my father's house to spend the night, scurrrrrred ;(
Saturday: Patricia's birthday, and her party, scurrrrred ;( (good thing I'm not going)
Sunday: seeing Steph and going out on a date! not really, but we are going out. not scurrrrred?
Monday: ...I don't think anything happens Monday.

Gonna try to get, um, 300 or more words before midnight. Shouldn't be an issue.

She's the kind of the girl who makes the news of the worrrrrld! ;D

Barack Obama as president.

I'm happy. I can't adequately put into words how happy I am that he was elected. I feel like the future of America is brighter, and I feel like I'll be coming into adulthood on a good note.

The amount of negativity surrounding the election (and Obama) scares the shit out of me, and seriously makes me sick. This is a monumental presidental election. History has been changed. Can you please just give him a chance before you judge his ability (or lack thereof, if that is your opinion)?

No. You probably can't. I hope you've been introduced to the term "closed-minded."

Urg. >;( So annoyed and sad. Blah.

But still, today is a great day for America. We have a president we can be proud of. There is change in the future for us.

Freezing.

NaNo update: 17,131 words as of November 3rd at 11:59 pm.

Today (er.. yesterday), I saw Dr. Smasal. It was good, until we got to a certain point. I don't know what came over me. I'm so emotional sometimes, and it comes from nowhere. From laughing, smiling, telling ridiculous stories, to hunched over, sobbing, not wanting to speak or think or breathe.

It was odd. I don't know what it was.

She says things that just seem... I don't know, maybe I should word this differently. It's like the things that everyone around me should be saying but never do. She says them. And it makes me even more sad, I guess, because she's my therapist. I don't see her as a therapist. I see her as a friend. But I'm afraid that once I'm out of therapy, I'll be just another past patient and I won't get to talk to her again.

That's how it happens, but I've never really had a relationship with one of my therapists quite like this before.

Eh, I don't know. Weird.


I'm tired. I didn't sleep much last night. I had these really bad thoughts circling through my head, and when I wasn't actually thinking about them, I just kept saying to myself, "Man, I can't let these fuck me up in the morning. I've got shit to focus on." That's what I've been thinking about... nearly everything that comes up. Hmm.

Bedtime.

The end of my first day.

9,124 words within a period of exactly 24 hours. I'm really excited and totally loving this. I'm so glad I decided to go ahead and do it. I remember I was having major doubts, but I went ahead and jumped right into it and now it's going REALLY great!

My goal was to get at least 10,000 words between Saturday and Sunday, but seeing as how I got 90% of that taken care of within the first day, I'll wake up and type about 1,000 tomorrow and take the rest of the day off.

Plans for tomorrow: Breakfast with Patti (if she answers her freaking phone), and then Steph is coming over later. I'm excited.

I know I promised pictures (not that anyone but Andy and Mike actually read this), but I'm tired, and don't feel like re-sizing them, and I need to pee REALLY bad. So, goodbye. ;D

November and NaNo.

I started right at midnight, and after a very panicky start, I'm happy to report slightly over 4,000 words within 3 hours (an hour of that a big fat pointless time-wasting break).

Happy happy happy!!!!!!!~~!

This is really good.

Also, it's officially November, meaning the countdown to my birthday begins today. Now, I need to figure out what I'm actually going to do to celebrate... >.>

To come after I get some sleep: Halloween picture of Trinity (duck) and Genie (salt shaker... wtf? ;D), and possibly a tiny excerpt of my novel!

Nearly 3 am, time for me to sleep.