I'm depressed again and I even wore my depression shirt. [I remember this shitty shirt, it's depressing to think about even now.] I wrote to Sarah last night but gosh darnit [sic] I didn't have a stamp. I just never could call her. I'm mad at Dave and I wish I would've stayed home today because I didn't do my homework for this most highly exhalted [sic] class. I couldn't -- didn't know how. I'm mad at Dave because he didn't call me back. And because he's so moody. He may have called but I'm not sure. [OverReacTron 2000.] I hate the fact that he has this special knack at making me mad. He's so obnoxious. But I'm still here -- mad, depressed, hungry, tired, confused and downright pissed. [This all sounds suspiciously like PMS, which is the hunch I had about the last entry.] Okay - I'm going to start over now.
No offense but this class is getting terribly boring. Oh, great, now the sun's coming out. Just what'll make me feel better. Where's the wind and rain and darkness? I'm really in a bad mood and I hate being in a bad mood.
Later -- Should I call Dave or wait and see if he calls me? I'm opting for the former. But what if his mom won't let him call? [It seems I actually meant latter.] Does that mean I'm allowed to call him? I'll wait a while.
I wish I could think of something... Oh! Guess what? Janet's preggers again [my sister]. 10 weeks. How she waited that long to tell I don't know. I was so happy when I found out. I wasn't suprised - I wasn't last time either. I knew it had to be soon. I've been really wanting a baby, too. (Wanting Janet to have one, of course.) They're so cute, just to hold them and rock them and give them their bottle. They're cute until they start walking and talking [I still agree]. (Kenny) He's not a baby anymore.
I was just thinking of what I would write to Dave assuming I did love him. And not something about the psycho child from hell.
[Here I wrote out the alphabet with "Dave's" full name interspersed.]
I'd write that but much more elaborate I'd imagine. [I can't imagine.] If it were to come to that of course.
Which right now I don't care. I'm in a bad mood. A real bad mood and I don't want to be in a bad mood but I am in a bad mood and I hate it. You know what would make me in a happy mood would be if I would've stayed home today. Then I would be in the best mood cause I'd be asleep. I miss sleep. I really do. Sometimes. I can't stay home tomorrow, it would have to be either a Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. I'm hoping Sarah calls me tonight. Or I call her. I was going to call her last night (as I am every night but don't). I really want to talk to her. It must be because I'm terribly sad.
Did you know that Jim Morrison was killed by Pam, his girlfriend? How tragic can you get. She was giving him heroin. [Mmm, free will. I was kind of obsessed with Jim Morrison, reading books about him and poetry books by him. I was never that into the music, though. Huh.] It can't be all her fault though. He let her [Oh. I should've read ahead.] But then a few years later she herself overdosed and is daid [sic] as she should be.
[...]
There's so much I want to write about. I bet you can't guess what/who it's about? Yep, you're "write." There's so much about him I don't know. But that's mutual. I guess you can never know everything about a person, it would be boring if you did. As far as I can tell I love him [whoa!]. He's so fucked up right now [double whoa for the first f-bomb I drop!]. I don't know if he can love back but that's that [sic] important. [Freudian slip? A. How could that NOT be important? B. I think it is THAT THAT important, dummy.] You should never waste a chance to tell someone you love them [jeez, embroider a pillow, why don'tcha]. I lost my train of thought again. (Chug-chug.) There's so much I want to say I can't think of anything. My newest discovery? NIИ - Nine Inch Nails. The coolest stuff yet. I've got to get more.
I have this huge secret I'm just dying to mention. It's the coolest thing. And to think all this time and I'm just now finding out. [I think I'm about to die from embarrassment.] I feel like a weed for thinking it's so cool [you should feel that way]. I mean it's got to be terribly difficult to actually live it. To think I actually know someone who's attracted to people of the same sex. Isn't that wild?! [And... I just died.] I wonder what he'd say if he knew I felt this way? [Also embarrassed?]
[... I mention my cat, transcribe some Nine Inch Nails lyrics for 3 & 1/2 pages ...]
I'm not a happy (humpy) camper. I don't think Dave is here. My day's shot. I really almost stayed home today. Now I wish I really did. School is getting boring. I'm hoping to go over Dave's house Friday night. Saturday we're going to 3 Little Bakers [yeah, it's a dinner theater]. My mom's a weiner. She won't let me go over on a week night. Is that the most bogus thing you've ever hear? [I'm still amazed she let me go to his place at all.] But weekends aren't out. I'm going to make a list of all the stuff I want to take with me when I go. [WTF?] I'm going to have a suitcase full of stuff to take with me. [KNOW ME! LOVE ME!] What if he is here but I just didn't see him. I hope so. We didn't get to talk much last night.
This day is going to last forever.
[Page(s) missing. When it starts up again I'm talking about my father. I think this might be around the time my mother let him move back into the house with us:]
...he even home, too drunk to notice, I guess. Fifteen years I had to deal with the stupid bastard. Until, um, last May I think it was when I finally decided I wasn't going to live like that anymore. Not that he ever said or did anything to me. [Hmm. He definitely said some weird shit to me but I think it was after this time period.] We barely acknowledge each other's existence. But nobody deserves to listen to him constantly putting other people down, especially your mother who has somehow accepted that living like that's okay. It's okay to be called a bitch and/or worse every single day of your life. I blame her a lot for everything. How she can sit there and watch 9 kids be put through every kind of abuse possible is beyond me. He used to beat David, punched Diane right in front of everyone while they were eating dinner, nobody even tried to stop him! The worse stuff happened before me.
I don't want to talk about that anymore.
I wish Dave and me [grammar, people!] could hmm. I don't know how to say what I'm thinking. I want more. I'll just leave it at that. What is more? More everything. That's sickening. [???] It's not a great feeling, wanting to be with a person all the time. [Oh.] It just makes you sad because you can't be and really you don't want to be because I get annoyed after 2 days of the same person being constantly around. I'm flustered, I love/hate that word. Frustrated is a better word. It's crazy because I don't know why I am. I got my pepperoni "logs." They're real cute all wrapped up avec bow [WHAT are you talking about?]. I'd rather have a bologna (baloney) (I like that word better) log, though. Oops. I shouldn't go there. Sometimes I think I do want it but then sometimes the thought of it makes me nauseous. [I hear ya, sister.] Not because it's Dave. It could be anybody. It's a scary thought.
Tales of a 15 year old virgin. Next: more relationship confusion, mostly revolving around cryptic conversations and news of the relationship getting out, thoughts on Madonna's movie Truth or Dare, and remembrances of childhood friends.
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