Glory.

2003-07-16T01:57:00.000-07:00

2003-06-18T20:37:00.000-07:00

In order: best friend is dead, things go wrong with Fritz, parents split up.

I'm so stressed and so confused and so worried.

I'm only writing this because I have nowhere else to write right now.

My shoulder hurts, my eyes hurt, my head hurts, my heart hurts, my mind hurts.

2003-06-05T21:47:00.000-07:00

I have hereby determined that no one fucking reads this.

::bows::

Eight months, by the way.

2003-05-12T21:37:00.000-07:00

TxxnageDirtbag: it would have been nice to still be her frined but i cant go back now
istoleyourspot: yes, yo ucan.
istoleyourspot: you can talk to her.
TxxnageDirtbag: no
TxxnageDirtbag: i dont wanna talk to her
istoleyourspot: why?
TxxnageDirtbag: i cant change what happened
TxxnageDirtbag: i am embarrassed and angry and sad
TxxnageDirtbag: i am not going to just go out and talk to her
istoleyourspot: you can change what's GOING to happen.
istoleyourspot: well, then, fine.
TxxnageDirtbag: anyways she doesnt want to talk to me
istoleyourspot: if you aren'ts going to make an effort, that's your decision.
TxxnageDirtbag: she made it clear that she never wants to talk to me again
TxxnageDirtbag: so its not my decision
istoleyourspot: then challenge her, I don't know!
TxxnageDirtbag: what ever
TxxnageDirtbag: ur being a bitch
TxxnageDirtbag: i dont wanna talk to u anymore
TxxnageDirtbag: just shoot me in the head
istoleyourspot: you know what?
istoleyourspot: I'm fucking sorry.
istoleyourspot: I can't help you if you won't help yourself.
istoleyourspot: I don't fucking care if you've "tried", you need to try harder.
istoleyourspot: it's your life, you make your own decisions.
istoleyourspot: I can only give my opinion.
istoleyourspot: Goodbye. And good luck. You'll need it.
TxxnageDirtbag signed off at 9:45:26 PM.

2003-05-12T21:35:00.000-07:00

2003-05-12T21:34:00.000-07:00

2003-04-08T20:53:00.000-07:00

istoleyourspot: "everyone's-wounded-bird-Alex"...
istoleyourspot: lol
istoleyourspot: where'd you hear that?
pointxyourxgun: You.
pointxyourxgun: That's how you described him.
pointxyourxgun: Don't you remember?
pointxyourxgun: Your parents were driving us to dinner at that place.
pointxyourxgun: We ate outside.
pointxyourxgun: There was a pet store nearby.
pointxyourxgun: You bought crickets, I think.
istoleyourspot: ...
istoleyourspot: you remember that?
pointxyourxgun: sorry. it figures that I remember this and not the quadratic equation.
istoleyourspot: ::blinks::
istoleyourspot: I'm touched.

My Jones Soda cap told me something interesting today.

2003-04-07T21:22:00.000-07:00

Six months with Fritz. What is that? Well, it's a long time. It's the longest relationship I've ever had. It's half a year of happiness, romantic involvement and adoration. It's barely a fraction of the time we're going to be together.

I can hardly describe how I feel when I think of him, when I'm around him. Everything in the world turns to dust and all that's left is him, his dark hair, his pretty eyes, his expressions, that way he looks at me, his smile. He's like a drug: I can't get enough of him and I suffer without him. I've never been so comfortable around someone, so adoring of someone, so in love. I'm so at home with him that I can talk about anything, do anything, say anything, and I'm not embarrassed, no matter what it is. I could sit for days and simply bask in the warmth of his gaze, lay silently forever in his arms and feel his heartbeat. It's almost too perfect.

I never knew this existed.

2003-03-30T10:44:00.000-08:00

maddhatter1250: I'll get the knife, you get the virgin
maddhatter1250: and stonehenge
istoleyourspot: Thank god I'm no longer "the virgin"
maddhatter1250: yeah, we can't sacrifice you
maddhatter1250: although you ARE pure enough
maddhatter1250: hmmmm
istoleyourspot: I'VE HAD SEX MORE THAN YOU HAVE!!!
istoleyourspot: whoa.
istoleyourspot: that's a liberating statement.

Yesterday was fun. I showed up at Fritz's house at around one and he was still sleeping. We were both sleepy, so we napped together in his bed for two hours. It was so perfect and wonderful. In those strange periods between being asleep and being awake, where everything turns black and all you can focus on are your thoughts, I realized that in four years, I'd be able to do this every day. It's now one of the few things that motivates me. After the snoozing stopped, the goofing off began until 4:00, when my mom called and told us to come back to my house. So, we did. At my house, Alex called and then came over. We started watching Donnie Darko and then decided that we'd finish it at Alex's house. We migrated once again and soon after, Josh came over, wearing all black with bondage stuff and chains and zippers and he looked really good. We ate pizza, had ice cream and drank root beer up the wazoo.

Donnie Darko is an incredible movie. If you haven't seen it, you need to.

After them movie was over, we thought about going downtown, decided against it, and went to 49er Video and got some movies. Soon after we returned and started watching "Idle Hands", I had to go, so Fritz skated with me home.

ALEX GAVE ME HIS WONDERFUL PAIR OF HARDCORE RIPPED AND SAFETY PINNED PANTS!! OH GOSH, IT'S PURE SEX!

Quality time with my dear, dear friend Arthur. I love Arthur. Props to Arthur.

I miss Eric and it kills me. All his DeadJournal rantings are about Becca now, which yes, I understand; we aren't anywhee near as close as we used to be and he and Becca seem to have REALLY hit it off to the point of best friends. It makes me want to cry though, when he talks about her her her her her. I admit, it's mostly my fault that we're not best friends anymore and I know it's a part of growing up, but growing up fucking hurts, especially when you lose your best friend to it. I don't know what to do, really. Maybe I should just deal with it? Maybe.

I swear to god, I must have an eating disorder, because I NEVER STOP DOING IT.

maddhatter1250: and my dad got me butane and a mini zippo fluid container
maddhatter1250: its so cute
maddhatter1250: :-P
istoleyourspot: only you could make a flammable substance "cute"

I think I should've started crying in math class on Friday when Mr. Grahl was making fun of me. Just to show him that sometimes it's not funny and that sometimes he's a fucking butt hole. Sometimes I feel the need to RIP him a NEW butt hole.

::snickers::

I'm going to play guitar now.

2003-03-27T21:39:00.000-08:00

"How tall are you?"
"Too fat."

I'm writing a very pretty song. The lyrics are emo, but the tune isn't really... it's beautiful though, at least for the work of a teenager. I was riding my bike home from downtown today and I started singing to myself. I repeated the words and melody over and over so I wouldn't forget, then rushed upstairs, worked out the guitar part and wrote the first part down. It's a happy song, very happy song, about Fritz and I. It's the best song I've ever written and even though it may blow chunks in comparison to the works of others, I'm very proud of it. Once I finish it, I'll go to an open mic night somewhere and perform it. I've never wanted to perform anymore, but I love this song so much. I would post the lyrics here, but they suck if I'm not singing them.

Today was fun. I was so energetic and hyper. When I saw Bob coming to join Meredith, Fritz, Mark and myself in Central Park this afternoon I shot up off the ground, ran towards him and wouldn't let him go. When I saw Cat a little later walking across the huge lawn of Central Park, coming towards us, I ran towards her, attempted a cartwheel, failed, landed on my ASS, layed in the grass, laughing histerically before crawling to her and hugging her leg. I helped cheer her up a little, which was so much rockage. Then it was Steve's Pizza and crazy man who got mad at me for not wearing shoes. Shoes suck.

My cousin Alli and her boyfriend, Jason are staying the night here on their way back up to Oregon. They're in the next room, laying in sleeping bags on the floor and watching "The Great Mouse Detective", the BEST Disney movie ever. Oh boy.

MAD knitting is going on. Baby oh baby.

And I am dead tired because I was up all night last night talking to Alex on the phone. We seriously spent an hour talking about GENITALIA. That's how cool Alex and I are, that we talk about GENITALIA for an hour. It made me happy and it made him happy and then I was like, okay, wow, it's crazy-late in the night and I have school tomorrow and AHH so I got off the phone and went to sleep.

I have decided, once again, in the spirit of the gradually warming weather, that I'm going to try to lose some weight. Yeah, shut up.

I LOVE BOB!

I'm desperately in love with Fritz.

And David's shoes are my hero.

NO BLOOD FOR OIL!

2003-03-24T20:56:00.000-08:00

"POT STICKERS."

Today, Zak turned my backpack inside out, put everything back inside of it, and zipped it up. It was very humorous, yet very irritating.

"I wonder if a gnat would explode if you gave it Gatorade?"

2003-03-22T23:47:00.000-08:00

Today was Eric’s birthday party, which meant loads of fun with Eric, Ziad and Fritz. I had an excellent time, goofing off at Watermelon, Hunan and at Eric’s Dixon residence. I seriously have not had this much fun in months, I kid you not. I called my mom to ask if I could spend the night at Eric’s, since it was included in his birthday activities, but I was shot down, as usual. Don, Eric’s father, was willing to talk to my mom and ensure that nothing bad would happen to me, etc. My mother still objects to the idea, saying that I’m the “only girl”. My parents just got home and I told Mom that tonight was the best time I’ve had in ages and I made it clear in my tone that I was very unhappy that I couldn’t spend the night either, and she simply said, “well, that’s good, they can have a boys night together!” I told her to stop making excuses and she sing said that she needed no excuses, since my staying there with one of my BEST FRIENDS WHO I TRUST MORE THAN ANYONE IN THE WORLD, MY BOYFRIEND WHO WOULD NEVER LET ANYTHING BAD HAPPEN TO ME, AND MY AWESOME BUDDY WHO WOULD NEVER HURT A FLY was completely inappropriate, since I’m the only girl. Sometimes I fucking hate the fact that I am female. This must seem so stupid to the rest of you, and I hardly know why I’m getting so worked up about it that I’m actually CRYING right now as we speak, but God hates me. I’m just so tired of being left out, having such wonderful times and having the opportunity to continue them, but not being allowed to. It’s so frustrating to me. I hate how it’s “non-negotiable”, that I cried for an hour and half at therapy with both my parents present, that I never give up, even though it’s such a useless struggle. I think I’m just incredibly stupid, as I’m letting something this small become such a big deal to me. I just wish that I could make my own decisions and not have my parents there all the time, choosing for me. It’s not like I’d make bad decisions either; nothing would have happened at Eric’s: it rained, so we would’ve stayed inside all night and watched movies. We would have listened to music and moshed, had pillow fights, had fun and been ourselves. WHY AM I FUCKING CRYING OVER THIS?! I am such a spoiled brat, I hardly deserve any of what I have and I’m throwing a fit over THIS?!
I need to be grateful for what I am, what I AM allowed to do... But it still doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t do drugs, I don’t drink, I don’t engage in dangerous activities, I’m smart and educated, I know my limits and my boundaries, there is not possible way I will ever be pressured into doing something I don’t want to do, it’s simply not an option, yet my parents act so afraid, so paranoid, like I’ve been a delinquent my entire life and if they let me stay the night at a friend’s house, I’ll get out of control or something. I know that’s not the case, I know that’s not what they think, it’s just so frustrating to me because their reasons DON’T MAKE SENSE TO ME. I wish that, even sometimes, I could call them and request to spend the night at say, Bob’s house, and have them casually say, “sure, be home at noon tomorrow”, or something along those lines. One time my mom asked me, “would you rather that we didn’t care at all?” and on the inside I was screaming, “YES!!” but I, of course, said, “no...”. I have 3.4 grade point average, I’m active in the Emerson jazz band and peace group, I play guitar and saxophone, I write poetry and prose, I care about those close to me and I’m considerate of others. I do my homework, I do my chores, I make and effort and somehow, it always comes up in therapy that I’m not trying hard enough. I get so tired of it, not being good enough. I get so tired of not being perfect anymore. I used to get straight A’s in elementary school, I used to ace every last test, I used to be a perfect student. Despite all that, I had no close friends, no social life, no self-esteem. I spent every recess walking circles around the play structures, watching kids play together. I got made fun of because I was fat and dressed funny, because I had glasses, poofy hair that I kept in pigtails and had to go into the nurse’s office each lunch to take my medication. I always fell out of my seat, I always raised my hand, I always tried to fit in with the in-crowd. I spent my whole childhood trying and trying and trying and now I’m fucking tired of it, but you know what? I keep trying. I try every day when I wake up at ungodly hours so I can go to school. I try when I step on the campus of a junior high where I have few close friends and even fewer people I can turn to. I try when I sit through my classes, wishing it wasn’t so noisy and uncomfortable. I try when I walk through the halls, hating what I have to go through to get an education. It takes so much effort to simply not give up, to not give in to my desire to stop going to school all together. But I still wake up in the morning, I still go through the day, I still come home at night and do my homework because I’m not going to be a fuck-up. My parents think that without them, I’d be out-of-control, that my grades would fall, that I’d get into things I shouldn’t be doing. That’s not the case at all. I know that school is important, that’s the reason I do everything I do to make sure that I can have the career I want, the lifestyle I want, the life I want. Many times, the only reason I haven’t killed myself because of them, because I didn’t want to hurt them.

They just came in and tried to talk to me: I was sobbing they were getting frustrated with my because I was being so “irrational”. I admit, I am being irrational, I shouldn’t be so worked up about something this small. My mind is just so fucked up that I can’t help it. That’s why I take the medications that I do, to keep me stable and calm. My mom was trying to talk to me and I was sobbing loudly, she turned to my dad and asked for help and he said, “I don’t think we should do anything when she’s in this state.” “THIS STATE”? What the fuck does that mean!? He then said to me, “I wish that I could feel guilty because we were being horrible parents, but we’re not.” I guess I’m just a horrible daughter, I guess I’m just spoiled and emotional and selfish. I just wish that I could be on my own, rely on myself, make my own decisions.

My eyes and my throat hurts from crying, my whole body is weak from the emotion, my head feels like it weighs eighty pounds.

I hate myself when I’m like this: so irrational, so emotional and so stupid.

2003-03-17T21:06:00.000-08:00

"How long have you been buried here?" She kept her eyes closed, but the shocking flood of lighted still shone though her eyelids and made her pupils shrink painfully. He repeated, "how long have you been buried here?". She made a feeble attempt to clear her throat and said hoarsely, "two years". He grabbed her hand and sent electricity though her body; his grip was so warm, so alive: she could feel the blood pulsing through his fingers. He pulled her limp body to a sitting position and her head wobbled like a rag doll's, her neck not used to supporting so much weight. The sun pressed brighter though her eyelids and her retinas screamed and wailed with discomfort. He pulled her to him and she let his life filter into her idle and cold body. His heart beated vitality into her lifeless form as he stroked her dirty hair, her tear-stained cheeks. His fingers were laced with hers and his arms held her tightly to him, restoring the depleated life within her. HE leaned over her and blocked the sun's cruel rays: "open your eyes". She opened them slowly, hesitently, going against her instincts, but trusting him all the same. The light stabbed through her head and hit the back of her skull with a thud. Her muscles tensed and she winced. She gazed at him; he was beautiful. Anyone who had saved her from her premature grave was beautiful.

Yeah, that's a stupid peice of writing because I'm a lousy writer. Damn it.

War, huh? I hate this.

60% of the population in Iraq isn't older than 15 years.

We'll be killing children. CHILDREN.

Fuck.

2003-03-15T22:30:00.000-08:00

You don't fucking talk to me anymore. You don't fucking care about me anymore. To be honest with you, I don't fucking care, either.

I'm in love with Fritz. I've been with him for 5 1/2 months and for the first time today, I felt attracted to someone else. I feel like shit. Today was Stephen's birthday party (he turns 18 on the 17th. Happy birthday to Stephen, who's becoming an ADULT. Whoa. I went to his house for his party and then we all went to Scandia for crazy DDR maddness and all that glory. There were wonderful emo, punk and metal boys there and there was this particular one who kept looking at me. He was attractive, had spiked hair, a leather collar and tattered jeans and yes, I was drawn to him. So, I looked back at him. A lot. I feel like shit. I love Fritz, why am I looking elsewhere? Probably because I've never been single. I'm either been extremely unattractive or extremely in love. So, here I was in a humid, loud arcade, my boyfriend in Reno and a really cute punk boy looking at me between his games of DDR. I kept wishing he would talk to me; we smiled at each other a few times and I could tell he was having an innter struggle. When we had to leave, he looked at me as I walked out and I watched him as I left, as well. Then, Fritz called. Wow, you're extremely intelligent, extremely witty, extremely attractive and I'm extremely infatuated with you. Why am I looking at other boys? I'm so frustrated with myself. I'm realizing how hard it's going to be when we've been together so long, been in one relationship for so long. I almost feel the need to break off from Fritz for a while and date other people. WHY?! I love this boy with all my heart! Why one earth would I think of doing such a thing!? I guess I miss the scene I had always tried to be a part of. I remember sitting in Rio City Cafe with my dad and watching a couple, (the woman being about 26 and the man being about 46), converse awkwardly over two glasses of cheap wine. I had thought, triumphantly, while watching them, that they were looking for happiness, love and companionship, while I was only 14 and had already found it. I felt set for my entire life. The whole purpose of dating is to find love, so, if I've found love, why am I feeling this impulse to date?! I'm a horrible person.

I'm tired of "induviduals" and people who are "different" thinking that they're so much better than those who aren't "different". Just because you feel judged, that gives you NO right to judge in return. Some of the greatest people I've ever met are "prep" or "ghetto". By judging, you're only sinking to a lower level, demonstrating immaturity and carelessness.

YOU ARE NO BETTER THAN THE NEXT PERSON.

I saw Fight Club. I don't think I want to see it ever again.

Question: Am I the only person who hasn't seen Rocky Horror Picture Show or Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? I think I am.

I read something very sad in the newspaper this morning.

"He tipped his chair, and he fell somewhere."

"It won't be the first time you leave me in the dust. It won't be the last time you leave me in the dust... You're growing up and I'm growing sideways."

"I'm left to fend the world off on my own."

"Pull your arms up around your knees and hide out inside your room, pretend you can't feel at all, just realize that I know how you feel now... If all I am is a distraction for you then I can't complain that you can't feel something for me; take all you can find in me."

"What happened to the good old days? She said you would know if I know 'cause I say say so. I've been living ini them since forever... If we take no chance we can make no mistake, but how fucking cowardly. We've got big, big mouths, and small, small minds... How is this time different from the last time?

2003-03-13T19:12:00.000-08:00

"I'm gonna be the first one-handed golfer!"

The above quote is from Brennan today, during gym. We're in the middle of our golf unit, which means that I'm having golf-club duels with Brennan all period.

I had therapy today. It was okay... I talked about what I normally talk about: independence, conflict, longing and my tainted and lonely past. I feel so guilty -- I'm going to therapy once a week now; each session is roughly $80, times four weeks in a month... $320. Times twelve months in a year... $3,840 a year is what my parents are spending, just so I won't kill myself or something. I am such a burden.

Tomorrow is Friday and I am estatic. I simply hope that my mom doesn't keep me at home for the day, I think I would die.

I heard a CSNY song today while driving home from therapy that seemed to have been written just for me. I'm pretty sure it was called "Someday Soon". It was such a beautiful song.

istoleyourspot: I just want to clomp him and rip his clothes off.

2003-03-12T21:13:00.000-08:00

I'm talking to Gabi right now and we're have a wonderful conversation. This is interesting. I talked to Nick last night. That was wonderful. My parents yelled and screamed at me, Mom threatened to leave and they both told me over and over that I was immature and self-absorbed. That wasn't very wonderful at all. Fritz talked to me, though, and I felt better.

"yes, it's possible to feel love at this age, you and fritz have something deeper than many people ten years your senior."

Gabi said that during our conversation. It made me feel elated.

I am not a horrible person, I am not a horrible person, I am not a horrible person....

2003-03-12T20:45:00.000-08:00

First good conversation with Gabi for a long time:

ladylayladylie: i'm incredibly lonely. i mean, i've got friends here. they havne't changed the way the californians did.
istoleyourspot: how did we change?
ladylayladylie: this doesn't include you, actually .. but they became assholes.
istoleyourspot: didn't include me? really?
ladylayladylie: it turned out they were my friends out of habit, one that they outgrew in my absence. they merely were putting up with me the years of our friendship.
ladylayladylie: truly.
istoleyourspot: who became assholes, if you don't mind my asking?
ladylayladylie: jesse. mariah. cat and bob and that group, in a way -- they became absorbed in their lives and felt no need to include me. not that they're bad people .. just that they stopped caring, even when i was asking them to, even when i was trying. basically everyone at emerson, really.
ladylayladylie: alex, sort of, but he's always been a bit of a dick.
istoleyourspot: ::laughs:: yeah
istoleyourspot: to say the least\
ladylayladylie: - grin -
istoleyourspot: I'm surprised you didn't think I changed
istoleyourspot: I would've thought otherwise
ladylayladylie: you did change. just not for the worse.
istoleyourspot: how did I change, then?
ladylayladylie: and, of course, i changed. truthfully, i outgrew many of the people at emerson.
istoleyourspot: yeah, that happens
ladylayladylie: you became more yourself. cared less about what others thinked. not to say you don't care completely, that's true of no one, just to say that you stopped letting it rule your life or whatever. you matured, and worked your way into a social group that really spoke to you, rather than one that was 'comfortable.'
ladylayladylie: yet the latter you managed without making any enemies.
ladylayladylie: that i know of, anyhow.
istoleyourspot: I'm very complimented
ladylayladylie: - grin -
ladylayladylie: you're welcome
istoleyourspot: I hardly get feedback like that
ladylayladylie: and random, but is your makeup in the icon a nod to Beck's sea change CD cover?
ladylayladylie: - shrugs - i watch people. more than they know.
ladylayladylie: particularly the way they walk.
istoleyourspot: it has nothing to do with Beck
istoleyourspot: walk, eh?
istoleyourspot: evaluate me.
ladylayladylie: like myself. at first glance, i walk like i know where i'm going, i'm confident. i take big, strong steps. but if you look closer, or get to know me better, i walk like i want to disappear, i'm blocking off people around me not because i'm above them, but because i'm afraid of them.

you bounce. sounds cliche, but you do. you walk like the ground is just another pesky barrier between you and getting to your friends faster and you wish you could get rid of it so you could go be where the fun is. and when you're in the group, walking to greet friends, you're content, and the way you hold the binder with the picture of fritz, you're hugging him. when you're in a sadder mood, you're closed off, in your own grey little fog.
istoleyourspot: interesting.
istoleyourspot: I've noticed that about you, too.
ladylayladylie: good call. no one seems to. they just see that i walk fast. they don't look to see that i do that to get away.
istoleyourspot: It used to bother me, the way you walked. You always seemed so confident. I later realized that you did, indeed, know where you were going, but sometimes you didn't really know why or if you really wanted to at all.
ladylayladylie: everywhere i go the background is receding and that makes me happy, so i keep walking at that pace, even if it makes my feet hurt or my legs hurt or my head ache, because the back is going away and being in the past. even if just the walk from the MU to the Espresso Roma, the people who look at me and who might be judging me, or who are capable of judging me, they're going away as i move. and i'm better because i can run away.
ladylayladylie: ooh, good on the last one. didn't quite know how to word that. - shakes hand -
istoleyourspot: lol, go me!
ladylayladylie: quite often i find myself wondering if i need to be going where i'm going. that's when i slow down.
ladylayladylie: - grin -
ladylayladylie: i grin a lot
istoleyourspot: the way people walk really tell a world of truth about them
ladylayladylie: it changes, too. i used to walk a lot slower.
istoleyourspot: yeah.
ladylayladylie: i used to not be able to keep up with my mom. i outpace her now.
ladylayladylie: chris used to walk a little unsure of himself. he doesn't anymore, he bounces and jumps and twirls if he feels like it, or emits the random screechy noises, because he's more comfortable in hisself.
ladylayladylie: (yesirealizeijustsaidhisself)

2003-03-12T20:33:00.000-08:00

This is my new blog. I seem to have fallen into a trend, but that's okay; I'm simply asserting my independence by breaking away from the restrictions of LiveJournal. So, this will be the place where I post random rantings and blurbs; useless things and quotes and whatnots. Every so often, I might write something emotional or deep, but don't count on it.

My name's Sabrina and I love orange.

If I could be any animal, I would be a velociraptor.