scream

I couldnt sleep last night, probably because of the adrenelin shot. Not a big deal, except in my lack-of-sleep induced state (which I'm not all too unfamilliar with...see finals week or midterm week or any other time when I just have too much to do to bother sleeping), I screamed at Adam over the phone over how much I miss him and of all of the things...who loves each other more and then started to cry when he told me to be rational and it ended in him being the amazing boyfriend he is and telling me to go get some rest and he'd call me in the morning. Except now I feel like a complete ass which is perfect because I'm sure thats what he thinks of me. A fucking complete ass.

Adam's too good for me. He's too nice and lets me win when we fight and calls me beautiful. What the hell is wrong with me that I cannot even be happy with the perfect guy that I have right in front of me.

I hate being this messed up. Because I really do love him...to the Heavens and back again.

ugh

I hate that as soon as the nicest day of the summer happens I get a killer migrane that's bad enough for me to actually go see the doctor, resulting in me getting an adrenaline shot and being put on a portable IV full of happy meds and nutriants cuz not only do I have a migrane, but they realized that I probably got it cuz I forgot to eat for the past five days. Whoops. And its not like I was consciencely not eating...the thought to eat just never occoured to me. Once again, whoops. Someone should remind me to do that once and a while.

sixteen days!

Why Lilith is disugstingly happy to go back to Hood in less than three weeks:
-I really miss everyone and I feel like such a bad friend for not going down to visit anyone over the summer, even when I was in DC for work. We're all going to be crazy busy at school, but having us all in the same place basically ensures we'll at least see each other in passing.

-Back to school = sales! I like shopping and it makes me feel much less materialistic if I say everything I'm buying is nessasary for school. New shoes are the most important...they tend to dislike you showing up to lecture barefoot.

-Everything is so tense with my parents, I feel unhealthly stressed around them. Their mere presence makes me want to scream. The sooner I'm out of the state, I'll be able to breathe again.

-I can declare my major as soon as I get down there cuz I finally have enough credits. As soon as I figure out what that major is going to be, I'll let you know.

-Coffee walks with Timothy. They're like therapy but with a latte, someone I can actually stand (and actually love to death) and all the cigarettes we want.

-School is like the epicenter for the drama universe. As much as we say we cannot stand the constant superficial drama, we thrive off of it.

-Soccer House's first-weekend-back party. It always starts out classy, with cockstail dresses and ties. But give it an hour and we'll be on the table with the boys doing kegstands out back. Blackout, makeout, put out or GET OUT!

-Finally only being half-hour from DC. It really sucks how dependant I am on being that close for work and such. Oh well.

-Being able to gloat to this bitch from my AmLit class last semester that I'm getting published before her. She thought it'd be cute to tear my work apart and call me opportunistic and try to discredit every point I made cuz she doesn't see me as a real writer (whatever that's supposed to mean). Well, fuck you skank, I'm in.

-Seeing my professors. Yeah. I'm a dork. But, they have their job for a reason and if I plan to be doing what they do, I might as well let some of their brillance rub off on me. And, for the most part, they're pretty chill.

-Running with Dani, Will and Blake. It's great. We don't speak to each other at all, but we get this kind of unspoken comraderie going after the first couple runs and it makes killing five miles every morning less of an obligation.

...except now I need to pack. Boo.

on the ground

I'm back from the Hamptons. It was great. I love being by the water...I'm such a beach bum (in every sence of the word).

I don't know how much longer I can take being at home anymore though. My parents found out about Adam and...let's just say they're less than pleased that I'm seeing him. And it's not like he's that bad of a person. He's my dad's best-friend's son and we've known each other since we were born. So he's had a few issues over the past six months or so with drugs, but hey I'm not one to judge. Especially on that. And yes, he is a little bit younger than me...but once again, who cares? We work so well together, it doesn't matter to me. I love Adam to the point where I don't care what anyone says about us.

I love Adam and he loves me. If there's one thing that I still have faith in, it's the power of love. Maybe I'm naive. Maybe I'm just being a silly little girl and haven't lived enough to know what love is. Maybe I'm too willing to say "I love you" to anyone who gives me any positive attention. But I don't care. There is just somthing about Adam that makes me feel like one day I am going to be ok. He gives me somthing to live for, somthing that makes me so unbelievably serene and happy that I never want it to go away. Which it wont, because Adam swore to me that he'd never leave. It's just going to be me and him...forever. And that's exactly how I want it to be.

Adam is the most addicting drug in the world. He's ok with me being extremly insecure. He loves the real me...the Lilith that only comes out usually when I'm alone. I love him so much it hurts. Adam is the first person ever that makes me feel like I belong somewhere. He has my heart, my whole heart, forever. And I will always love him. I want to be with him forever. I feel at peace with him. If that's not a sign that we should be together, than I don't know what is.

And so what about going back to school. We are going to make this work because when you love someone like this, you do whatever is nessasary and more, just to make sure we're together forever.

on loss:

Loss of summer-
I have never known a season to last as shortly as this summer. Wasn't it just last week that I was bitching and moaning about having to pack up my dorm room? I think it really hit when I got my "Back to School" bundle of repetitive paperwork with the post yesterday. Honistly, if I didn't before, now I surely have my student ID number memorized...along with the dates of my immunizations, intended graduation date, advisor's name and contact information, perfered residence, yada yada yada. I can't believe August 27 will be my 14th first day of school (not counting preschool and such). Damn. One year ago I was counting the days till I started my first day of college. It really is striking to see how much I have changed-- for better and worse-- since starting college. I'm going to go as far as to say that I think I may actually be starting to figure myself out and become...gasp...human. And it's not that I don't love college or anything (how can I not, especially if I want to be a professor?) but now I've begun to count the days left till I get my diploma and start grad work. And as much as I love summer, I find myself simply unable to enjoy it at all. Even at the hookah bar or Lotus or really anywhere that I used to hang out with people, I no longer am amused even in the slightest way. But, in true Lilith fashon, I fake having fun. And I do it pretty damn well but even when I catch myself being somewhat happy, I go back to being emotionless. I think it's just easier this way. So when I leave Jersey again (for what will hopefully be the last time), I won't have any memories to lure me back here. Except this then brings up the issue of what to do with Adam. I want to make it work, but I'm petrified that I don't have the willpower to do so with a 3-hour minimum gap between us. And that really sucks because I think I'm in love with him. I know I say I love people a lot...but with him...it's different. He's completly stolen my heart and it makes me extremly happy just to say that I love him. I love loving Adam. And if anything, I think that will bring me back, just to see him.

Loss of creativity-
I can't write or even conceptualize anything worth writing that has any substance to it. Everything pouring out of my head is just straight up stream-of-(un)conscience work and it's leaving me absolutly nothing to even piece into anything that could even be thought of as somthing worth reading. I hate this feeling. I just feel so...useless. And it's not like anything I've ever written has been that great, it's seriously amateur night every time I create..anything. But it's just super frusturating (I can't believe I just said "super" and am not being sarcastic). I guess everyone hits a dry spell once and a while. I think this one is just hitting me hard because now that I'm on the verge of publication with Drip and all (let me just take a minute and say how much I adore my editor over at Wasteland Press. Donnie, thank you for putting up with me and helping me make this happen while allowing me to maintain almost, if not all, of my integrety as an author. I don't know what I'd do without Donnie's constant badgering to make deadline while giving me everything I need to **hopefully** get what I need out there with this piece. Majour respect Wastland Press. Forever). But now I think people are going to expect a certain level of quality from them and I don't want to dissapoint. Or at least dissapoint more then after my first works are read.

Loss of ability to feel-
I am emotionless. Completly. Numb. I love it and yet, I am a bit disconcerned. I don't quite know what to make of this yet. Maybe I'm insane. Maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm on drugs. Maybe I'm not. But regardless, I don't really give a shit.

all the girls say...

Let me catch you up on what's been going on over the past few days:

-I quit my job. It was killing me. Not only were the hours stopping me from salvaging what is left of my life up here in Jersey, but the people were extremely paracitic and it's not a situation where I wanted to stay for longer than absolutly nessasary. So Ieft and I feel pretty damn good about it.

-My hair still looks amazing. Pictures soon, I promise. The dark brown is much more striking and suits me more than trying to be blonde.

-Ashley and I are going to live together at school and try to make it work. We have a pretty big room with two huge closets and it's in one of the newer dorms so no complaints. And she's cool with my OCD-neatness and intends to keep her side the same. **Hopefully** it'll work out cuz I'm really not game for running to ResLife again and begging for a single. I think there's only so many times you can do that before they decide to call it quits on helping you out.

-Adam and I are FANTASTIC. Even though he's down the shore with his family for another week, we still talk twice a day and text eachother constantly. It's kind of sickeningly adorable actually. And we have real conversations, it's not just "I miss you snookums" back and forth for two hours. Like last night we discussed what makes a person "real" and if religion is the sole stagnent qualifier in creating a person's identity. Smart, hot and sweet...I think I may have found a good one.

-I'm going to the Hamptons with Audrey for a week to help look after her daughter, Danielle, who pretty much worships me. And Audrey is one of my best friends here so it's going to be so much fun. Their house is literally right on the beach and they have a huge pool and I'm going to get disgustingly tan and have their BUTLER (yes I said BUTLER) bring me yummy drinks with little umbrellas whenever. Jelous?? Yeah, I would be too.

-School starts in a month. Holy Hell. Three months went by really fast. Oh well. I'm so excited though. I really want to see everyone from Maryland and to start class again. Yeah, summer classes were fun but I miss serious academia. I miss the challenge more than anything, I think. One month...yay!!!

Alright. No thinking I'm dead when I don't write for a week...I'm a busy girl. =D

yuppp

So Adam is the new Mike.
Mike found it hilarious to demand I change everything about myself for him, from my clothes to my interests to everything. So he is gone. And the new boy, Adam, is amazing. He calls me pretty and actually means it, makes me feel safe and brings me flowers made of Swedeish Fish. I think he's a keeper.

Going green is the new sexy.

Obviously, or John and I would just look rediculous trying to fight for open spaces. We're vain. There has to be somthing in it for us.

Blood oranges are the new blackberries.
Six times the antioxidents and much cheeper. And they taste delicious. Try blood orange juice and jager. It's majourly fantastic.

Brunette is the new blonde.
I got bored of being blonde earlier and went dark dark brown. Almost Angelina Jolie dark brown, but not quite. I love it. It looks so striking.

Content is the new emo.
I find no need to abhore any pleasant vibes anymore. If I'm happy, then so be it. If I'm not, then whatever. There are more important things to stress about.

And I am absolutly ok with all of that.

HARRY POTTER!!!! HARRY POTTER!!!! HARRY POTTER!!!!

I got my book. And I'm eternally greatful to the Amazon.com deliveryman who had it at my door at 5am. Heck yes, he rocks.

And, without saying anything for anyone who hasn't finished it....but WOW. I would have never seen that one coming. But still absofuckinglutley amazing.

Now...bed. Cuz it took me almost 20 hours to read the entire thing. And now I'm exahausted.

Yay Harry!!!

Photo Friday- "Vacation"

The hallway at my Nauna's vacation home in Rome. I miss summers there.

sleep

I miss it. Seriously I do. I haven't had time to sleep more than two hours a night in the past month. And now it's starting to catch up with me. Boo...whatever. I mean, it's what I do during school so I guess it works that I'm doing it now too.

Just to gague my tiredness-- Harry Potter VI hits Saturday. And while all the rest of the world will be at book release parties, I'll be sleeping till mine is delivered via Amazon.com. Yup. That exahausted.

supersonic

It's raining. It's raining and I have to vet twelve outdoor areas for a fundraiser I'm planning. In a suit and heels. And it's not even like it's drizziling...it's pretty seriously raining. On my run this morning, I come in and have to wring out my hair and clothes on the porch before I came in the house.

And I theoretically could have my assistant hold an umbrella over me cuz I'm going to have my hands full with my clipboard and blackberry and such...but that would make me seem like such a diva. I mean, I know I'm high maintennce, but I don't think I'm that bad.

It kinda sucks though, cuz I love the rain. I really do. I love taking walks in it, watching it, splashing in puddles...the whole nine yards. Just not when I have to actually do the adult thing.

ihatehavingtobeanadult

Ugh.

Why I am not exactly in a good mood right now:

1. Mike is officially on my shitlist. He thought it'd be fun to rip on me to all his friends last night, completly forgetting that I'm best friends with most of them. Whoops. Way to talk crap about me, jackass.

2. Adam's dad has a really big problem with him seeing me. Which doesn't make sence to me at all, but Adam actually does the whole family thing and cares about what they think.

3. My stepmom "accidently" flushed my migrane meds. All $300 worth--which I pay out of pocket because my health insurane sucks--are gone. And I feel like I'm getting one.

4. My stepmom wants me to drive with her to Maine for the weekend to visit her son, who I cannot stand.

5. Sean, from work, got fired because he didn't bring in enough fundraising over the past two weeks. And he was the one guy who actually could make me laugh at the office, regardless of what was going on at the time.

6. My mother's car died so now she took back the car she was letting me use...so I'm once again sans car and have to resort to the whims of NJ's mass transit system.

7. I have to organize another press conference for right before I head back to school and I have no ideas for the angle or the local. I want to do it somewhere in Linda's district, to get her some good press (and show my loyalty to her=D ), but I can't find a way to make it not look sketchy with everyone in the office.

8. This guy who I used to work with, way back in 2004, and who now writes for Roll Call thought it'd be fun to call me "a vain, materialistic, opportunistic, sociopathical bitch" in his editorial column. Although he never mentions me by name, anyone who worked with us or who knows anything about my career or mannerisms on the campaign trail can figure out its me.

9. Same guy, who is also extremly disgusting and sketchy, called and wanted to know if I wanted to meet up with him for drinks tonight. Right after he publically critisizes me. Jackass.

10. My nails keep braking, even though I keep them polished.

11. The books I ordered for background reading for some of my fall classes haven't come yet.

12. John fired Samantha yesterday and now she's mad because I didn't fight for her. Except that I had no idea that he was going to fire her, since I no longer work with them and rarely talk to John anymore. I know there's nothing I could have done, but Sam loved that job.

.....hopefully tomorrow won't suck as bad.

maybe everyone else is insane...

...and i'm the normal one?

NO. It cant be. I'm just not that lucky.

I'm really starting to hate living up here with my father and stepmom. She can't keep her mouth shut to her family, finds it nessasary to judge me based on the meds I take (all of which perscribed) and to question the validity of me taking them (cuz apparantly she thinks I'm not being sincere when I say I can't move when I have migranes) and then feels its approrpriate to search my room. Just like Janet back at home. Ugh. This is why I can't live with people.

And I miss my summer classes. I love work, but there's somthing about having an academic challenge that makes me really happy. I don't know what it is, but I'm not getting it here.

Only one month or so till I'm back at school. Yay. I figure, regardless of where I am, people are going to judge and talk crap about me...so I might as well be somewhere that doesn't make me want to constantly gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon.

But...I met another guy. Mike is now out of the picture...at least for this week. But the new guy, Adam, is amazing. He's smart, funny, really artistic and a writer. And he loves that I'm not the happy one. Happiness disgusts him...which works cuz I don't do happy.

If I did...I'd be so boring.

paradise...

...is having the press conference over and done with and not having to be at work till 11am Monday. An entire day, just for myself. Gosh. I don't even know what I want to do. I know laundry needs to be done, as well as my hair and some gardening and definatly cleaning.

Wow...I just realized how pathetic I am. I hate having to do the adult thing.

Photo Friday- "Barren"

joseph's technicolor turncoat

Yeah so I was right. It was BRD yesterday. I think we did well, I mean...from what I saw we had everything on the checklist covered. The one thing I'm not so sure about though is my answer to one of the policy questions. I mispronounced the last name of our state's executive director. Hopefully we won't have points cut for that though...I really want to win this.

(I'm wayyy too competitive)

So I get home last night and Juan, a NYT reporter who I made the mistake of becoming friends with a while back, asked me to comment on the control EMILY's list had over Stender's race last cycle. I did, but only after getting his unequoivical assurance that everything I said would be off the record. And now I feel like the biggest weenie ever. I feel like I've committed fratricide or campaignfamilycide. But...what EMILY's list did just wasn't right and I feel it cost us a lot of early support. Let's just assume Juan is going to keep his word and leave everything off the record, then maybe...maybe some good will come out of it.

My sholder feels like...I dont even know. Bad. I thought it'd be fun to work on my handstands earlier and my Dad accidently opened the door right into my upside-down self. Whoops. Whatever...I'm young and completly unbreakable.

french kiss the end of time goodbye, baby

So work day numero two was FANTASTIC!!!!!!!!!!!!! I get in early and start working on the press release for Saturday's festivities and our exec. director walks in and starts reading over my sholder. He tells me after that he thinks I can write. Yeah I clearly can, in terms of media/public relations work, but just hearing from my higher-up really means a lot. And not to mention that during fundraising, we brought in $2900 which was TWICE our goal for the night. FUCK YES!!!

After, we all went out to celebrate and we get a call that Blue Ribbon Day is going to be sometime this week. Blue Ribbon Day is like this giant competition within all of the offices throughout the country. Basically what happens is that someone from the central headquarters down in DC comes up unanounced and quizzes everyone on staff about the orginization: rules, training policy, what causes we're focusing on...but also they ask general questions like how many members of Congress voted on a certain piece of legislation and such. There's no penality for not doing so great on Blue Ribbon Day...it's more for pride.

Which I don't even need to worry about though, cuz we're gonna win majourly.

I'm just kind of bummed though that Michael is still being really distant. Whatever. I'm finally starting to feel like I can be happy on my own and I think....I think I might just be ready to run with that for a while. See what happens. I don't know. Whatever. I think partially though, in the end, I just don't want to end up alone.

wooooooo!!!

Work wasn't that bad. From what I got today, everyone seems to be really smart and extremly fun. Which...is always really important. It was so great to just be around people my age, or rather intellectual people my age. We were just hanging out for a bit and someone brought up Russia's antidemocratic tendencies and the theory of multipolarity being the blood of an international system and I was like WOAH, finally people here who speak my language.

Iamsuchadork.

We have this pretty cool media event this Saturday that I'm excited for. To show the lack of open spaces left in NJ, we're going to pitch a tent on this little triangle of land in a major intersection and be like "when the developers are paving open spaces at a rate of 50 acres a day, soon this will be the only land left for recreational usage" or somthing of the sort.

Michael is being kind of a dick. Or rather, he's not being much of anything. Not even a phone call or text in two fucking days. I mean, if he's not into me or if somthing is bothering him or whatever, I'd much rather him say it flat out then ignore me. I really hope he still likes me though. Cuz I'm just about head over heals into him. It's pathetic...I know. But whatever. I just miss feeling like someone actually cares about me.

And also though...I know I need to stop being such a whore...at work, there's this guy who was majorly hitting on me earlier. Like to the point where one of the other girls, when he left the common area, pointed out that he's single. And he's cute, smart as bloody hell and a democrat. All good qualities.

I don't know. Whatever. I miss my puppy. I let my stepbrother take her to Maine with him for the week so she can run around or whatever on our land up there. But now I'm kind of regretting it. I miss having Zen around, as annoying as she occationally is. And my cats just aren't the same. =(

Live Earth!!!

So lets just say it was the most bloody brilliant moment of my life. Bon Jovi was rediculous. Melissa Etheridge gave one of the most moving performances I have ever ever ever ever ever seen. The Police were rediculous, as always. Even Kanye West and Kelly Clarkson (who I usually wouldn't listen to even under the worst duress) gave a good show. Sigh. No words for the amazingness. Absolutly none.





New job as Field Director for Public Interest Research Fund starts tomorrow. I'm scared shitless. Last cycle, with Stender's race, I did some field work. But none to the point where I feel qualified to run a field office. I wonder...does everyone feel this underqualified the night before their first day of their first real job in their field? Probably. Oh well. Fake it till you make it, I guess. And it's totally times like these that I wish I was still on good terms with Nick. I mean, the guy is the best field operative in NJ and we used to be fucking tight. Not so much anymore. And he always knew what to say when a freakout was coming on...and what to tell me to make me realize that I might actually know what I'm doing.

Shit. I'm going in fucking blind.

all that heaven will allow

I usually don't believe my horoscope verbatium...but this is too perfect not to share:

Capricorn (Dec 22 - Jan 19)

Staying at home today might not be as relaxing as you think, for the day is filled with excitement no matter what you do. Instead of trying to withdraw from the action, engage it head on. By involving yourself voluntarily, you'll end up feeling more connected to everyone involved. And even if you try to detach yourself from what's going on, you'll still get pulled into the day's events, so why fight it?

I think, maybe even moreso, because today I'm going to be volunteering at Live Earth. My excitement is like woah. Better then Christmas, Hanakuah, my birthday, graduation and Election Day all in one. Pictures and a full wrapup of teh goings-on in the next few days.

Photo Friday- "Busy"

bright street

I went to my brother's therapist tonight. For family session or whatever. I lasted a whole five minutes before walking out. I just started shaking and I couldn't breathe and I just needed to run. If I had been anywhere else, there would be strawberry gashes up and down any piece of visable flesh. But no. Only because that would be prooving them right.

Anyways. His therapist is a dick. I walk out and he tries to challenge me, saying he knew I was over this the second I walked in. I have nothing to prove to him.

I don't think people need therapy...I think they need therapists. And for me, that's Mike (regardless of him treating me like a cumrag or not, he will always be there for me to bitch to), Tim, Zimmie and Becca. I know my issues, they know my issues and tell me what I already know to get past them. And give me drinks while we do this. I don't need to pay someone $300 an hour for that.

I'm moving in for good at my father's. Mainly because I found my mother going through my room again. At least I know, at my dad's, that he wont do that without me in the room. And if I'm going to be completly miserable this summer, regardless of where I live, I might as well be where I can smoke and not have anyone say crap about it.

I really can't wait till I'm back in Maryland. My summer classes are over and I miss school. I miss the challenge. I miss professors not allowing me to walk away...from anything. I miss my college people. Beccaboo and Tim especially. And the Ecstacy goddesses.

Oh...Drip is happening. Fall/Winter edition of Wasteland. Fuck yes.

notorious

Shira is coming back from Prague next week. She pretty much is the one member of my family who I do not have any issue with. Actually wait...she's theonly one. She and I have the same issues about everything and it's so hilarious to see us together. We're the neurotic twins of the Upper West Side.

Last time she was back was more than year ago, for Phil and Kim's wedding where both of us got entirely too intoxicated. Kind of sucks that it went down like that. I guess the last time we had one of our talks though has to have been two or three years ago. There's so much crap that has happened...I don't even know where to begin with her. I sincerely hope she hasn't changed.

And Shira's the one who got me writing again. When I was 12, my father found my notebooks and burned them. I mean, it was no great loss to the literary community I assure you. But still. And so I didn't write or even consider it for a really long time. During which I was even more fucked up than I am right now. Yeah. Major fucking issues going on and I was in a really shitty place. Shira just grabbed me and bitched me out till I started writing again.

Best memory ever though with her was dropping x down the shore. We got so incredably vivid, as you tend to do when you roll, and ended up walking the length of LBI all night. Tip to tip...only about 10 miles. But absolutly hilarious.

Finally there is going to be another one of me back in the family. I'm done with being the fuckedup one.

do you like solitude

Michael hasn't bothered to call or text or anything over the past 36 hours. Which is weird. Because I can't stop thinking about him. And I thought we were a thing. I mean...it doesn't get much clearer then when someone says they aren't interested in anyone else but you. Whatever.

I need some pills. Which is presenting to be a much bigger problem then I thought. My dad is finally starting to catch on that I'm just a bit of a pillhead and actually asked me earlier if I wanted to see a psychiatrist to help me out. To which I told him to go fuck a camel and went outside for a cigarette. But now that he's suspicious, I can't be siphoning off his stash anymore nor can I carry and leave them in my bag unattended, for fear he might search. I know my whorebag mother went through my room at her place. The worst she would have found though are some Codine, some rum left over from a party (and by party, I mean me getting obliterated with the whores I tried to leave behind in high school) and maybe some pot. But nothing major.

And it's not like I don't have the cash. I pulled in a solid $200 in tips over the past two nights which isnt too bad for a Sunday/Monday happy hour. I just don't have the effort to go and search. To call up all of my old contacts would frankly be exhausting. They'd wonder why. Why now do I call them. And I'd have to fake care about their lives...who they're fucking, what they're writing, what resturants they've been to when all I really want is somthing. I'll really take anything. I don't care what it is...as long as I'm not straight I don't really care.

"baby, just chill"

And it all will get better. I think this is why I need to be in a relationship. I need to have someone tell me that I am ok. No longer the damaged product of life gone awry. Michael is good at that. He can just sence when I need to be brought back down. Yeah. It pisses me off. But screw that. I'd rather be temporaraly giving up control to someone and being able to continue being somewhat content, if not happy, with them....than just purging myself of the moment entirely and losing it all...not just the stressors.

But yet, I do not trust him. Nor can I allow myself to. I know the instant my guard comes down, I am going to get hurt. It's just how these things happen for me. With us being so far apart, it only adds to my inability to stop second-guessing his intentions. I am never really going to know if I am just his Raggidy Ann doll for him to string along until he finds somthing better. Or needs me like I need him.

How pathetic am I? Honistly, I can't stand myself. I claim to do the autonomous thing quite nicely. And yet, here I am saying that I need Michael. I am never whole and frankly...I think what scares me the most is that I need someone to fill that void. Whatever it may be.

It just started getting windy here. It kind of reminds me of the Santa Anas. Magical winds, causing me to sprout wings and with a gust of warm, dancing air jump off the highest cliff and simply glide. Winds where anything can happen.

The window in my room is open and I can here the sporatic rustiling of the branches on my weeping willow. Each pass of the wind allows the leaves to whisper "breathe" "feel" "live" "accept", the very words I refuse to utter in fear of allowing them to consume me. My curtans fly forward with an air of almost hopeful escapism then as soon as it seems like they are going to finally break free, implode back and crash against the freshly painted white window moldings. The curtans, also white, are begging to be released from their manicly pure ties. All of the white, it seems too innocent...which we shall never be nor appear as such. Perhaps I shall buy new curtains in the morning.

Either that or repaint.

Choke

My dad is pushing me back into therapy. He cant make me. I wont go. I dont need to go. I think its so ironic that this is the first time that I am starting to feel healthy, or if not healthy, more like the real Lilith...he thinks there's somthing wrong. Which of course there is. There is so much fucking wrong. But nothing that could be helped by sitting and divulging anything to a complete stranger.

I will not go back. I will not serve.

Photo Friday- "Gray"

Gray being the smoke that ceaselessly flows from by lungs. The effervescent hue of both warmth and betrayal, both a constant presence. Especially amidst early summer days, where the weight of the fog clings to every fiber and thwarts any attempts made towards accomplishing...anything. Anything except more of the all-too-familliar grey smoke that has come to define our being.

all that's left to do is jump over the moon

Didn't get the job at Urban or the Gap. No worries. I mean...I work a lot already and I'm going to run by Trader Joe's and the UPS store tomorow so I'm sure I'll get somthing.

My brother has a court date a week from Friday. Finally. Except the prosecutor is probably just going to let him off. Which will be absolutly pointless. I mean, if you're dragging the kid to court, the least you could do is charge him with somthing. I don't care if it makes me a bad person for hoping he at least gets probation. Maybe it'll teach him not to be a moron.

I cannot stand this 90 degree weather. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't disgustingly humid. Well..whatever. There's nothing to be done about it really except wear pretty summer dresses and drink lots and lots of frozen drinks.

And I think I'm actually starting to be ok with Michael calling me beautiful. Only him though. ((blushes and giggles like a 12-year old))

I'm going to just get my dad clothes. I have no other ideas. Whatever. He needs casual tops other than teeshirts and he can't dress himself at all. Typical guy.

brilliant caution

Why I want a cigarette right now:

1. Mike texted me this morning when I was in class, just to tell me he thinks I'm beautiful. If he saw how I looked at that very moment in baggy jeans, a black French Conncetion tee and flipflops...I'm sure he would have disagreed. I can't stand being called beautiful. It makes me feel so uncomfortable and disgusting and fake.

2. My brother, once again, thought it would be fun to practice his right hook on my head while I was passed out. Who doesn't love being woken up to that, I don't know. Best of all, I once again get bitched at for him doing it and have lovley bruses and a cut. At least it makes me look like a badass. Whatever. I was stupid and should have locked my door before I lay down anyways.

3. Today is my Dad's 50th birthday and I forgot till after I bitched at him on the phone this morning. When I realized, I was immediatly like "o fuck!" and called to fake good daughter. But still, it doesn't make it better.

4. Lotus hired four new girls so everyone's hours got slashed. It sucks. None of them even have their bartending lisence so I know as soon as we're working the same time hours I'm going to have to do everything for them.

5. Also with my brother, he thought it'd be fun to steal my cellphone and read through my texts. Most of which were between me and Michael. And because he's a fucking sociopath, my brother decided to read them outloud to all of his friends...all of which are immature shitfaces much like himself. He is why people like me have issues.

6. I compeltely binged over the past two days. And by binge, I mean eat like a normal person. More than just iced tea, wine, vodka, citrus and cucumber, you know. But regardless, now I feel like a fucking heffer and all I want to do is throw up.

7. Dance is tonight and for some reason, my depth perception is messing with me. This means everything I do tonight with distance and spacing is going to be off. So basically I'm going to look like a moron.

8. My exboyfriendexfianceperson is going to my dad's party Sunday. He works now at the bike shop my dad goes to now, and he invited everyone who works there. I maen, he's there enough it's like his second home. But anyways, now Zach is going to be there and I haven't seen him since he decided I am/was too not right for him.

9. (Time for me to be really materialistic...) My new Coach bag gor rained on and even though it's dry now, it has spots. They're really faint but still. Now it's not perfect.

10. Because of my inability to say no to anyone or anything, I agreed to babysit my friend's daughter Friday for the entire afternoon. Except I have workshop Friday morning for two hours and work that night from 10 to close. There goes my time to unwind and start cooking for my Dad's party.

11. I still haven't found my Dad a good birthday gift. I mean, I found some stuff that is ok (clothes from Urban Outfitters, signed & framed portrait of Greg Lamond, a new Camelback water thing for when he bikes...) but nothing that I think says 50th birthday gift.

Yup. Things need to stop sucking. Now, please.

forgive

And I thought I had issues. Not at all...but I'm not talking about the mental ones right now. I got a call from one of my friends, Zimmie at 230 this morning. He was seconds away from killing himself. He didnt. But damn. It was close.

Lets just start with the fact that his mother was given six months to live. Last stage lukemia, breast cancer and brain cancer. She is going to die and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Aside from the whole parent dying thing, Zim's family is his whole world. If you ask him who or what he wants to be, he'll say his parents.

And definatly not as bad by any way, shape or form...Zim retore his miniscus so he can't play soccer this season. And his first ever serious girlfriend broke up with him. She was a fake whore.

God. I don't even care about my issues anymore. He has much much more important, real things to worry about.

still vandal

The CNN 5am weatherpeople are now officially on my shitlist. In the mornings, I wake up around 450, have coffee and check the weather before getting changed to run...especially if I'm doing a loooong run and I know I'm going to be out for a while. Anyways, this morning they **said** it wasn't going to get past the low 80s till noon so I tossed on a hoodie for my run, thinking I'd be chilly with it being 5am and all. Yeah...not so much. By the end of the first hour of my run I was disgusting. So screw you CNN weatherpeople for getting the forecast wrong and making me feel mcnasty this morning.

My nose has been itching crazylots today. Isnt it like if your nose itches, people are talking about you or somthing? Not that I'm one to worry about that sort of thing...

My dad's 50th birthday party is Sunday and I have NO idea what to get him. I'm probably going to end up asking one of his friends or somthing. It's not like I speak to him to the point where I'd have any idea what to get him for his birthday. He's impossible to shop for...he has everything. I might just pay for a week in Vegas for him and my stepmom or somthing. Hell...not only would he probably like that but it's also get him off my back. Yeah sorry, I'm selfish.

Michael needs to stop telling me that he thinks I'm beautiful. I don't care if he or anyone else thinks it's true, it makes me extremely uncomfortable to be complimented on my physical attributes. But I mean...I'm not gonna tell him not to do it. I don't want or need to give him another reason to think I'm insane.

stolen

I think I want to become a professional bellydancer! No...I'm not that crazy, but for a while after last night, I was seriously considering it. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun. Seriously...there is nothing I don't love about dance. I mean, we get costumes, get to play with swords, wings and zills (finger cymbols). And its so good for core strength, which is awesome. Yeah, I've only been doing it for a few weeks but even still I'm starting to see my endurance go up with running and such. But yeah so I met some really cool people from other studios. More than anything though, it was interesting to see the diversity amoungst the dancers. Like Orlit, she's Iraqi and came over before Bush decided to throw our troops under the bus. I started talking to Andrea, who runs Empire Dance in the city. I mean, we sort of knew eachother before from bunheadland but we never really talked. She bailed right after me and is now teaching bellydance six times a week at Empire, all drop-in classes. I might have to show up to one of her classes. I love my instructor and the girls I dance with but I think it'd be interesting to at least experiance another instructor to see how they differ styilistically.

My brother's therapist wants me to come in. Family session or whatever, I guess. I'm not going though. Not to spite him or my parents or anything, but they pretty much ruined any possibility of me ever speaking to a therapist by forcing me into it. And I'm completly against my brother going to a therapist to begin with. I don't think he needs it. Fuck him having a drug "problem". His only problem is that he is a self-indulgent little brat who has been coddeled his entire life and has never seen any consequences or given limits. And now he's just seeing how far he can run with that. Not to mention both my parents blaming his issues on my "destructive, concieted presence". Screw them all. My parents think I'm the bad one for leaving but they gave me no choice. They're mad because they couldn't break me then, nor can they now. I will not bow down to them. I don't care what they think or say. I have nothing to prove to them. I don't care if they think I'm going to Hell for being assertive. Shit, if there is one (which I'm not too sure there is), I'd rather be reigning in Hell than serving in Heaven.

One of my friends, Shawn, really pissed me off earlier today. Just randomly he says that I look innocent. Seriously. Who says that? I am anything but. I am not fragile or undamaged. And Shawn knows half the shit I've been through cuz he's been right there with me. Screw innocence, I'll take fearless and strong, fuck you very much.

je veux que me vous ayez voulu

Since Y camp is totally out of the picture, I went job hunting **again** yesterday. I know I work too much but I really could use the money. Plus... this way I won't have to work as much in the fall at school. Cuz damn, I need to do much better so the grad school thing can still happen. Anyways, I applied yesterday at Urban Outfitters and the Gap. I would LOVE to work at Urban, disregarding the fantastic employee discount, it's such a chill vibe in the store. Like when I went in yesterday, they were playing DivineMAGees and I was like woah...cuz about 50 people know them. Good music, good clothes...definatly my place. Gap would work too...I mean it's not as fun but I wear a lot of their stuff for work or when I need to fake the adult thing. And kudos to them for promoting Bono's RED campaign. Hell, I don't care if people are just buying the RED clothes because **everybody** is, either way the money goes to the organization.

Tonight is going to be really fun! I'm going out with my dance group for drinks then we're going to an open dance showcase/workshop thing. I think that it'll be good for us to just chill out of class, get to know each other a bit...so when we start putting together our performance pieces, we'll have a better idea of everyone's comfort level. I mean, I know once I get the basics down, I'll be comfortable with almost anything cuz that's just how I am. But I know Janet hates doing floorwork because of her knee issues. But not only things like that, I think we'll be able to see who is gregarious and not so much, so we don't put someone really shy in the center.

Mike is coming up next weekend to visit. Yay. I think all I really want right now is the security of a relationship. Hopefully I can find it in him...he's amazing. But with that, I know he's too good for me. Which sucks. Damn.

Photo Friday- "Dream"

crazy angel

Let me just start by saying that dance last night was amazing. I was SO on. I don't know what it is, but during my first classes back in bunheadland, I was told to dance how I feel and I guess that has just stayed with me. Because last night, I felt nothing more than extremely vindictive...and I guess that worked because DAMN I looked good out there.

Mike and I are a thing, I think. During yet another one of our marathon phone calls, he let me know that he's not seeing anyone else. Which is always nice to hear. I'm going down to visit him the weekend after July 4th. Yay. Last night when we were talking, I literally fell asleep on the phone with him for a minute...I'm just that relaxed around him. Hopefully this will work out. I mean, we work so well together that as of now, I don't see how it cant be a good thing.

I don't know if I'm going to go back to school in the fall. I think, maybe, I just want to take some time off and do Europe or somthing. I mean, if I go back though, I guess I'm just going to have to isolate myself from the Hood drama crap that got me into trouble last semester.

Tonight should be hilarious, first dinner with my Father and his family. Then work till last call & close. Then crashing up at my dad's place. P.S. my dad's a jerk. And its going to be really funny when he finds out I got fired from the Y.

Whatever. I really don't care anymore.

fuck this

So I just got back from a meeting at the Y and I got fired.

I guess it started last week when I came in all brused up because of my brother finding it acceptable to use my head/face as a punching bag. I got questioned then by my unit director, the assistant camp director and the camp director. But in true Lilith fashion, I play it off like it was nothing. I mean, I don't want them thinking that I'm a big ball of drama or anything (ok, so I am, but they don't need to know that).

But then yesterday, it was really hot out so I wore a teeshirt (which I usually never ever ever do) and some of the directors I guess noticed my scars on my forearms and the tops of my palms. Which, admittingly, look kind of suspicious. But noone mentioned anything to me so I just thought they either didn't see --it's not like I was showing them off or anything...I mean, I'm not proud of them (actually quite the opposite)-- so I just leave after training.

And then I got a phone call around noon from my unit director asking me to come in immediatly. At this point, I'm kind of questioning what's up but I go in anyways. I guess I thought she just wanted to go over lesson plans or somthing. Ha. I wish. I walk into her office and she's there along with the asst director and camp director. They ask to see my arms, which we're clearly visable cuz once again because of the heat I wore a tee shirt. And then the questions began. Just the usual: how often, when, why...that sort of crap. While being extremly selective with my wording, I tell them that I used to have a problem when I was younger and that I haven't had issue in a while (ok, so I have, but once again...none of their buisness). And then...to top it off, after making me spill my guts, I get fired for possibly being a negative influence on the campers. Such bullshit. It's not like I'm going to encourage them to go out, buy a knife and start carving away at their arms.

Whatever. This sucks. Majourly. I was pretty excited for camp too. Yeah, I'm not usually a fan of the kids but I wanted to see what it was all about. And I really wanted to work chic empowerment camp. Not to mention that over the past few weeks I've gotten way too friendly with my credit card company's collection agency and the paycheck was supposed to help remedy said situation.

I guess I can just keep working at Lotus, maybe **hopefully** take on some more hours. And focus more on the pieces I'm working on for my writing workshops. And get ready for the dance showcase in July.

Plus, I probably would have been the worst counselor anyways.

dial mighty

I'm kind of bummed right now. Mainly cuz I was only told last night at training that I have to swim test by tonight. No big deal, right. Except that after last week, I went a little emo on my legs and upper arm. Whoops. Nothing new though. But not only are they still visable but they're also still pretty raw and I'm guessing aren't going to feel so hot in chlorine. And I haven't done the bathing suit thing in a while in public. Not that I'm extrememly uncomfortable with how I look...but I'm extremely uncomfortable with how I look. Right now though, I'm betting on a self-tanner coverup to help me out. So hopefully that will help a little. Maybe. But probably not.

Mike and I had another marthon chat fest last night. It's really bad. I think I'm falling for him. Again. And it's really hard because he's in Daytona Beach and I'm up here. I mean though, last night was really great, just talking to him and all. He puts me at complete ease...it's almost like I don't have to censor myself with him. He's really nonjudgemental. And I think because we've both had to put up with so much, at home and otherwise, that it erradicates the need to stay to the "safe" topics. I don't know. And even if nothing happens, which is probably wont, Mike's just a really cool guy to talk to.

I have exams next week and then I will **hopefully** never have to take science ever again. Not that I'm not a fan of it or anything, but I'm just not good at it, nor do I understand most of it. I mean, I can deal with the environmental stuff but only because in high school I took Earth Science, Climatology and Geology. But this chem stuff is killing me. Whatever. I'm good at memorization and if anything, that's going to get me through this exam. I did pretty decent on the midterm with a 89%, my lab average is an 88% and my paper average is a 97% so if I get an 85% or better I think I can keep a high B. Which is really all I expected, not being at all interested in the course and all.

I'm kind of excited for Friday. It's my first real payday from the Y. Yay for money and being able to start working paying down my credit card bills.

P.S. being in debt sucks. Majourly.

whisperspin

Last night. Fantastic. I don't think I've ever had such a buzz in my entire life. Not to say it wasn't extremly petrifying and one of my friends had to practically shove me onto the stage area place thing. But it was so liberating once I was up there. I mean, it was kind of surreal. I felt like I was just reading in my room or in class or to the **very** few people I share my work with. So amazing....

Andrew came to the reading. I still don't know how to feel about it. We ended up going out for a few beers after and just talked. He says he wants to get back together. But I don't know. I don't know what I want. We decided though, regardless of if we do or don't, we're going to stay friends. Which I guess is important, not to mention kind of weird for us to decide. I mean, after all the shit I put him through and he tried to pull on me. But whatever. Part of me wants to be with Mike. I just wish he would tell me what he wants, stop leaving me guessing, you know? I think I just wan't the security of knowing what is going on, either way.

Anyways. Camp starts Monday. Or rather one of the two camps I'm working at. First month is an afternoon camp that runs concurrently with the morning program run through the Westfield Workshop for the Arts. And then I have two weeks of chic empowerment camp. For the first camp though, I have to make up lesson plans for each day. Kind of hard, I mean, I have no idea what a bunch of 5 and 6 year olds are going to want to do for six hours. I think I'm going to stick to the staples for the first week, you know-- soccer, SPUD, kickball, assassin, walks to the playground at the park. And then afterwards, the junior counselor for my group and I can reassess. Ha. How crazy is that? Even though I've never done the camp counselor thing, I get placed as a senior counselor. As in, I'm in charge!

I also really want to tie-dye with the kids. I think that'd be really fun. Especially when one of our Friday "Theme Days" is 1960s. I don't care if they get messy, that's half the fun. I guess I could just send out a letter to the parents of my group the week before, letting them know that's what the plan is and tell them not to dress the kids in anything they don't want multcolured after the fact.

For leadership camp though, I have no real idea of what I want to do. I'm thinking the last afternoon, because we're right by the Apalacian Trail, I want to do a big hike up there and watch the sunset just to reflect once we're up there. There's this one part of the trail for camp around 3 or 4 miles down that is completly void of trees, just the most white slate rock I've ever seen and an amazing view to accompany it. And I want to start out every morning doing yoga with the girls on the quad outside the cabins. I definatly want to do an afternoon of self-defence and violence against women awareness. And maybe a poetry reading one night around the campfire. Maybe. I don't know.

river, river

I have the reading nine hours from now. I'm scared out of my mind. I mean, I know once I get up there I'll be fine. It's just the wait that's killing me right now. If anything though, I'm ok with the pieces I'm doing. I think that'll help.

Mike and I had a big talk last night. And everything is good. He said he just freaked out when he read my work. I don't know if that was quite my intended reaction, but I really will take any reaction other then the nausiatingly fake "Like wow. That was sooo super good!" crap I always get.

I invited my parents to the reading, as a gesture of goodwill, I guess. They're not coming. I didn't really expect them to, but it would have been nice to know that they we're planning on coming. But I mean, their absence is one less thing for me to freak out over. Which is always appreciated.

I got these really cool contacts the other day that make my eye look all white. Like no iris or pupil or any thing. Just white. Is it bad that I love that they make me look like a zombie? I think I'm just way too amused by them.

I need to have another garage sale soon, down at my mother's house. I think this one is going to suck more, just because the things I need to get rid of are from when I was a kid. And that's always hard. Not that I still have my stuffed animals in my room or anything... only Eeyore and my Mike bear (the night before Mike deployed for the desert, he showed up at my door with a huge black teddy bear wearing a white beater and a set of his dog tags and he sprayed it with Curve for Men so it smelled like him. It still lives on the bench at the end of my bed.)

I guess I'm just selfish. I keep saying I need to purge myself from my past, including anything that was with me back then, but I refuse to let go. Sad but true.

feist heist

I hate Father's Day. Enough said.

Some people in my writing class and I are doing readings at a coffeehouse tomorrow night. Needless to say, I'm scared shitless. I can't stand performing my own work, especially when most of it is so personal. I haven't yet figured out how to create somthing worth reading, while at the same time isolating myself from the piece. I guess that, like the confidence to do a public reading (even in an informal setting), will come with time and practice.

I'm 100000% over dealing with my family. As of now, I'm just living with them, that's it. I can't stand the constant battle for my autonomy. It's exhausting and quite frankly, I don't care anymore. It's not worth the fight. Regardless of what they say, I am my own person and it's their fault if they refuse to recognize it.

On my run earlier, I saw one of those annoying, rat infested ice-cream trucks that kids flock to laying on it's side in the middle of the road. I guess it got into some sort of accident or somthing and because it's so boxy, it tipped over. No true loss there. I think they had it coming, that music is a glutton for a beating. Numerous, actually.

a wish

New rule...I need to not crush on people I know I can never get. I think I'm starting to realize that I've crushed so many times and done a lot of stupid things to try to make said person like me...and it's never worked out in my favor. Which really sucks.

I mean, even now...I can't get Mike out of my head. Its weird though. We have such a weird dynamic that I almost don't want it to be anything more because I don't want to screw up what we have. But then...what if? What if we could be somthing more and I don't go for it? What if he's the one and I let him go? Then I'm just screwed.

And I don't even know if he likes me. I know I sound like a thirteen year old but I don't care. I'm just not the person to be upfront and let someone know that I'm into them. I guess because I don't want to have to deal with rejection. And I'm shy as hell. But whatever.

I'm just so exahusted. Not even just from stressing about this but everything. I had a yard sale today in an attempt to continue purging the things I've accumliated and don't need at all (I mean, who really needs 10 couches?) and damn...they're a lot of work. Having to barter and be all friendly and such...not really my thing. Especially when I had work last night at Lotus. Which, by the way, I love.

Tomorrow is Father's Day and my step-cousin's birthday party and Rainna's divorceaversary. So I'm doing the brunch thing in the morning with Dad, Chella's party in the afternoon then getting hammered with Rainna tomorrow night. I can't believe it's been three years since she got divorced. I mean, yeah she got married way to young to an asshole. But whatever. At least now I have my drinking buddy back. Seriously. This girl and I are dangerous together when we go out. We can drink anyone and everyone under the table. We're just classy like that.

I miss school people. I feel bad that I haven't been down to Mayland to visit anyone but between classes, my writing program, camp and work...I have no time. At least some of my rockstars are coming up first weekend in August.

Sigh. C'est la vie.

Photo Friday: Active

I was feeling pretty out of it earlier so I bought myself a new present. I got the Leica D-Lux 3 and I swear it's my new baby. I adore it. It's pretty tiny but still 10 megapixels so I'm getting really good quality shots.

Anyways, I took this shot earlier while making a batch of sweet potato french fries for my stepbrother. I really like the contrast of the orange against the silver of the pan and the white of the stovetop. Not to mention the movement captured of the oil up over in the pan.

trapt mercy

"Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing."- Sylvia Plath

Whatever. I don't care anymore. I can't stand myself. I bring all of my issues upon myself and then I freak out when it becomes too much to handle. It's pathetic, really. I put on the "fuck you, I'm awesome and can take care of myself" facade every morning when all I want to do is crawl back under the covers because I'm petrified of what the day holds. I'm scared that I might actually live.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not about to try and out myself. It's just that it's tough. Especially when you realize you're not as strong as you thought. And you have no idea what you are going to do with your life.

And it's exhausting, the paralytic indecision. Constantly jumping from one plan to another. One day planning on starting a non-profit, the next-moving to Europe and writing and the day after-dropping it all and starting from scratch. Do I go back to the guy who cheated on me and said I am impossible to love? Do I wait and see what happens with the guy who thinks I'm psycotic? Or do I finally admit to myself that I might actually be able to survive without seeing someone for a while? You have all of these questions dragging you in every direction till you collapse.

They lied. There is nothing beautiful in or about the breakdown. Unless you like that sort of thing. Then by all means, go ahead and watch.

I'm a trainwreck in slow-motion and you just can't tear your eyes away as I go down.

avalon

Today needs to end immediatly.

Dance tonight was horrible. Or rather I was horrible. I can't get out of the ballet mindset and just let go. Everything I do is so rigid. And you can tell that I have a ballet background because of how I hold myself and my turnout and everyone expects me to be good. Tonight was only my second bellydance class ever. Yeah I understand what we're supposed to be working on but I can't get it. And the really sad thing is that I really am trying.

So I came home afterwards feeling completly dejected and as I walk in the door, somthing hits me. Or rather someone. My younger brother found it nessasary to start using my head as a punching bag. Not so much fun, let me tell you. I mean, I can hold my own but not when I'm hit out of nowhere and then punched in both eyes and temples pretty damn hard over and over. Best of all, my mother sees it happen and laughs at me, congradulates him then blames me for being brused. Yeah. It's my fault that he's agressive and I bring it upon myself. God. This is why I can't live here.

And now I have two black eyes, bruses all over my forhead and the side of my face. Not to mention the lovley crimson trail I carved across the tops of my thighs, indirectly caused but completly triggered by the actions of earlier all coming together. It's the perfect trigger trifecta; my making an ass out of myself in dance, getting the crap beaten out of me by a fifteen year old and then being blamed for it by someone other then myself. But anyways, now I look like more of a disaster then before, which I don't think is going to go over so well at training for camp tomorrow. I'm just guessing looking like you got mugged is not a great first impression with the directors.

Mike's being a jerk now too. He wanted to read somthing I wrote so I sent over a story I've been playing around with for a while and now he thinks I'm completly psychotic. Real nice of him, I swear. No critiques given, just yelled at by someone I thought I could trust. And that really sucks because it's completly not like him at all. And I really really like him. I know I say this about everyone I fall for but he understands me. And I thought I could tell him anything. I know he's been through so much but I felt like we actually had somthing. Somthing real. I just have to hope all is not lost now, I guess.

People just need to stop being assholes. And the world needs to stop trying to make me want out. At least I don't give up easilly.

Except maybe some people aren't supposed to be happy. All I have ever wanted is that happy ending. I want to prove everyone wrong. I want to be ok. I guess...I guess it's just not in the cards though.

the kitchen walls

Mike and I had another marathon chitchat again last night. Like I said, it's so out of charactor for him to call me just to chat so I'm thinking that he's either really lonely or he actually might care. I'm gonna hope it's the latter because otherwise I'm going to feel like such an ass.

I have bellydance tonight!!! I'm really excited. It's such a great feeling to be dancing again. I actually ran into one of my old pointe instructors at the Starbucks by Lincoln Center yesterday. She basically refused to awknoweledge my presence. I guess I was right, they don't like you if you're not part of their world. Not to say I don't miss it. It was such a large part of my life , or rather, it was my life for so long...I think it would be unnatural to not. I still have a pair of pointe shoes that I'll put on from time to time and go down to my basement with the mirror-lined walls, barre and ABC/ABT-quality floor. When I'm down there, I'm almost in a trance. I love it so much but I know I can't go back to taking class. Not after leaving. Plus, going back to ballet would mean going back to full-time goddess worship. I can't do that to myself. Not when I'm just starting to be healthy again.

I have to take a drug test for camp. I really really really hope it comes up clean. I'm pretty sure it should, but I'm still gonna be worried till I get the results.

That would really suck if I tested dirty, after all of this. Yeah.

shoot down the stars

Mike called me at 1am, just as I was getting into bed. I was really suprized cuz yeah, we talk a lot, but he's not one to call someone just to chat. He actually cared about how my day went and sounded genuinly interested. Is it possible that I have found a truly nice guy? But anyways, he's so easy to talk to and just relaxes me completely. We ended up talking till 5am, which was ok cuz I wasn't planning on sleeping anyways. I don't know what it is but when we're talking, he brings me down. Mike's so nonjudgemental, I feel like I can say anything and he will just listen and even if we disagree, he supports me.

I've never had someone like that, not even in a relationship sence but in a person to person sence. And I feel really lucky that I have Mike. I know I've been a bit of a whore in the past but being with Mike makes me not want to do that anymore. I guess I just crave the attention. Maybe I've just been looking for someone to treat me right. And...and I think I may have found that in Mike.

I think one of my problems is that when I fall for someone, I fall hard. I just love having someone next to me, knowing that despite everything, someone wants to be with me. Relationships make me feel like someday I am going to be ok. It's really unhealthy to think that way, I know. But being with someone makes me feel whole...even if I'm just being used.

I'm done with being used. It's happened to me my entire life. I have never been anything more than somthing easilly disposed of. And I've been ok with that. Maybe I'm just stupid and haven't given up on that little glimmer of hope that says that it **might** turn into somthing more than a late night bootycall ending with the walk of shame back to my room at 5am.

But I know I'm not being used this time. Mike and I have more than that. We talked about it last night, real stuff. Exes came up and I got into the Andrew saga and after, after Mike told me he'd never hurt me like that. That he can't hurt me. It's the things like that, that make me melt.

And we've been through so much together, especially when he was in the desert, I think that if we haven't fucked up whatever we have by now, Mike and I might actually be able to make this work.

Which would be fantastic, cuz I really like him.

pain(less)

I'm officially a camp counselor. I'm actually freaking out a little bit. I don't know how to answer the hard questions that I know are going to come up. All of these girls have been labeled as "at-risk" teens and pre-teens. I was (and still am to some degree) these girls. Except that I no longer am "at-risk"...I am the risk. And I know they are going to ask me how I was when I was there age. I'm not going to tell them that I was pretty much a walking skeleton, high off my ass and dragging razors across my body. Yup. That was me. I don't know how to tell them how to cope when I'm just now trying to figure that out myself.

But now, because I'm going to be hiking and such at camp, I can justify buying a new pair of hiking boots. I've had mine for a while and they're fine but it's time for them to be replaced.

An article on CNN.com is really bothering me. Apparantly there was a study done that concluded that male veterans have a higher than average suicide rate. No shit guys, our men are coming back with half of the limbs they left with and the VA doesn't do a thing to help sort out what is inside their heads before they stick a goddamned gun to their temple and pull the trigger. It's sickening to think how we treat our soldiers.

I met the most amazing Israeli man earlier at this little bodega near my writing class. He was trying to buy some ice, but didn't speak English and the clerk didn't understand Hebrew. So I stepped in. Yay for being fluent in four languages, conversational in three more. But anyways, this man lived on a Kibbutz near where I was born for 50 years, before Israel was even a soverign state. I love the Kibbutz system, completly communial living but also self-sufficiant. Before I get too old and even more cynical, I need to live on one for a month or so...just to see what it's like to be completly reliant on the community for your survival.

Also, I almost blew myself up in my chem lab this morning. I forgot to turn off the burner thing and dropped pure chlorine into distilled water. They exploded, as per the intended reaction, but I guess the fumes were explosive also and got a little too close to the flame. Another boom and tons of "What the fuck?"s later, I'm still gonna blame it on lab being at 9am and my lack of caffene that early.

MMMMM coffee.

apologize

Mike (living in Daytona, FL-- just back from the desert) and I were talking earlier and somehow we got on the topic of the worst either one of us has done. Stupidly, I asked him what's the worst he's done. Mike's answer-

Baby I've been to war. Don't ask me to list my sins.

And I instantly realized that it's going to be really hard for us. Us not only meaning me and him but also every single Military girlfriend, spouse, child. As much as we try to understand, fact of the matter is that we don't. Nor will we. There's this old saying that the real soldiers are the ones who don't talk about what they've seen.

I know Mike's seen the worst of it, but he's the guy I am going to marry.

And I'm not shallow enough to not want to be with him because he needs to, for one reason or another, keep things about what went down in the desert from me.

The way I see it, none of us have a clean slate. We've all done some pretty fucked up things. Me. I was never the good one. But you do what you gotta do to survive. If that means that sometimes I have to take way too many painmeds and put on some chill, acoustic stuff to get me away from this Hell, then so be it. Or that I needed to tell my father that most of my problems can be traced back to him, just to get him off my back. Or my working at Coyote while promoting feminism. Or the time I told my suicidal friend that after two failed tries she needed to either get it over with already or stop trying. Yeah. I'm a really bad person.

Completly shifting gears, I'm absolutly astonished over how many people are on academic warning or were asked to leave becase of grades after last semester. Thankfully I wasn't, but I came disgustingly close. Nina is gone, Jess is gone, Becca is on AcPro, Brian is gone...the list goes on. What I don't understand is, if you're paying over $28,000 in tuition alone, how you get kicked out for not going to class. No...I get it. But still. I guess this semester was just a really big wakeup call for me. I really need to get my act together. Noone tolerates a failure. There's a reason failure and F start with the same letter. B...you can always do better. C, get your crap together. D, do somthing immediatly to amend the situation. And F...fuckup, failure, forgot that nothing below an A is acceptable.

Next weekend my stepcousin, Chella, is turning six and I have no idea what to get her. I'm thinking I might get her a really cute giant hobo bag that I found at Nordstroms and buy Barbies and other girly toys to stuff it with. She diserves it. She's a fantastic six year old.

But even she doesn't have any baggage.

tell me what we're gonna do

Last night was AMAZING! Amia's friend, Jessica, who came with me and Janet is so much fun. And the show was fantastic. Ryan Shaw and Common opened for Joss Stone. Common ended up doing a pretty long set and Joss was up there for like an hour. I love Summer Stage shows.

This morning kind of sucked though. I had to go to the eye doctor cuz my contacts have been bothering me more then usual and it turns out that my perscription worsened. So not only do I have to use a new brand of contacts that are much thicker, and therefore less comfortable, but also have to put up more money for different contacts. Whatever. These things can't really be avoided.

I'm on the verge of (once again) getting kicked out of my mother's house. Apparantly she's offended that I'm never around. Yeah sorry...I work and take workshop in the city and take classes at another school, not to mention have other responsibilities. Plus, her mere presence brings me back to a really bad place. I don't have the time to bother with someone who I have always had issues with. She's not worth the aggrivation.

I'm watching my friend's daughter, Amnity, tonight. I'm not a fan of kids, but Amnity is a rockstar. She's Israeli and Korean so she has this amazingly curly, dark, shiny hair that she's never cut and Amnity is the biggiest 7-year-old hippie I have ever met. Seriously, she and I have the best time together just drawing or messing around. Watching Amnity almost makes me want kids.

Almost.

Except I'd be the worst parent ever.

improved shadow

Let me start off by saying how much I adore Damian (my stylist) right about now. We ended up bringing up the length just around two inches to just below my collarbones but shaped it by adding more layers with a razor and sideswept bangs. Sigh. I love. But he wants to wait a few weeks to do my color to give my hair time to relax...the cuticle was getting a little fried which is never good. Whatever. If Damian wasn't obscenly gay I'd marry him in a second. He is so MY gay.

Sad news though. As of now, it looks like my brother is going to be doing 9th grade over again. Being suspended two weeks before his finals certinly didn't help the situation and for him to pass, he cannot get below a B+ on any of the exams...which, let's be honist, is going to be damn near impossible for him to pull off. But, I really have no sympathy for him. He brought it upon himself by not going to class and completly messing around when he did, not to mention not exerting any effort outside of school. Whatever. It's not my problem.

There's a really good possibility of me roadtripping at some point down to Daytona Beach, Florida to check out my friend Mike's new place. He just got out of the Army after two 18-month tours in Iraq and decided his hometown of LA wasn't for him anymore so he packed up and finally settled down in FL. Mike is a really great guy, I met him in a bar in West Hollywood a few years ago when he was home on leave and we just instantly clicked. Most hilarious of all, we share the same last name as well as the same first initial. But we stayed in touch when he went back to the desert and now we're really close. I'm actually really excited to see him, we cought up when he was back on leave in late January but haven't seen each other since.

Tomorrow should be fun. I have an early workshop at 8:15 then I'm going to the Joss Stone show in Central Park with Janet, Amia and one of her friends. Hopefully it won't rain though, I mean I love the rain but not when I'm going out. Kind of a downer though, they don't sell within the Park so the girls and I are bringing our happy flasks. Everything is so much better with vodka.

I love workshop. I never realized how much I learn from critiquing and being critiqued by my peers. Even in the past two weeks, I feel like the pieces I've been working on have gotten so much tighter. Which is always a good thing. I'm going to lose the reader in thirty seconds or less if my writing doesn't get better...and fast.

i need to wake up

So after workshop, I decided to check out this belly dancing class near Fiona's gallery. Coming from a pretty strong background in dance--mostly classical ballet-- I was really excited to have the opportunity to check out somthing that's very stylistically different. Oh my goodness, it was so much fun though! I mean, I had some issues with technical stuff...like I spot my turns and do almost everything on the balls of my feet or with my feet pointed because of ballet but still...it just felt so great to be taking a class again. Its one thing to slip on your old pointe shoes and just mess around but taking a class, you get such a high off of it from the energy the other dancers bring to the table. I mean, three hours later and I'm still going strong.

Fiona's gallery is doing really well, I think. She just opened the space around six months ago and she's already generating a buzz. I think partically because she has been holding a bunch of benefits which are always amazing for press coverage. As much as I am proud of Fiona, I'm also secretly jealous of her. She is only six years older than me, not even, and she is completly together. And as much as I try, I'm not. I have absolutly no idea where I'm going to end up for grad school or after that, I'm living at home this summer (inserts knife into jugular), I'm still unmarried with no acceptable marriage proposals coming any time soon... it sucks.

I think what bothers me most is that I'm so type-A that I cannot stand not to have a plan for where I'm headed and if somthing doesn't follow the plan, I lose it. I always thought by the time I was 19 I'd be more self-reliant then I am now. Not so much. I'm still extremly dependant on others, be it for; approval, confidence, amusement...there's a myrad of things. And deep down I know that I should be able to stand on my own two feet. But I just don't think I'm strong enough.

Whatever. Styilist appointment tomorrow. Thank God. My layers completly grew out, my ends are friend and my roots are completly obvious. I'm thinking I might have Damian do a dark, almost but not quite deep brown with some chocolate tonal highlights and chop my hair up to just below my collarbones with a bunch of long, razored out layers. Maybe. I don't know. I think that's why I love going to Damian. He knows me, he knows what I can pull off and how much time I'm willing to devote to my hair in the morning. Plus he's been my styilist for over three years now and going to anyone else just feels like cheating.

Wow. I am a vain, elitist whore. Whoops.

caves of creation rock

So right now I'm sitting in Central Park, just over by the Imagine circle and Strawberry Fields, with Zen...just enjoying the day. I just finished a piece that I'm workshopping this afternoon and I know I really should be studying for tomorrow's chem lab but I'm not really in the mood. I mean, I understand what I'm supposed to do for the lab and it's not like I am not going to look it over before class. I wouldn't sabotage myself like that, especially when every A brings me one step closer to graduating and grad school.

Andrew (the guy who told me I'm impossible to love then decided he couldn't get me out of his mind) wants to start seeing me again. I want to see him, but I don't think it's a good idea. I try to have a policy of never getting back together with my exes, but Andrew is making it really hard for me. I still care about him immencely but it's just really difficult even talking to him because every time I even think about him, I hear him telling me that I'm impossible to love. How can anyone be in a successful, healthy, meaningful relationship after somthing like that? I don't think that it can happen. But...thinking back to when we were together...we worked so well. Andrew and I think the same way and I care about him so much that it makes me want to try to make somthing work. But I also know, he hurt me once and I don't want to feel like that again. So I don't know what I'm going to do.

I wish this whole relationship thing wasn't so complicated. No...I don't. I don't do things that are too easy. There's no fun in that.

watchtower drive

I haven't been sleeping well. Even with my sleeping pills, I just can't sleep. I guess because my schedule is so tight this summer, I don't want to sleep because I have things to do. My classes at the community college are all early, starting at 7am, so I have to start getting ready at 5 to get there on time. After classes are over, three days a week I have to run into the city for my writing workshops. Then it's either off to one of the evening lectures then out or Lotus. Either way, I'm pulling into my driveway at 3-4am, only to wake up an hour or so later to start the madness all over again. When I'm home, I'm either cleaning (is it bad that vacumning is now relaxing for me?), doing school stuff or writing. Not that I mind it, but not having my "me" time is starting to bother me. I think that's where the not sleeping thing comes back in. I really just need not even an hour to do some yoga, do my nails and play with Zen.

It's actually kind of crazy how little sleep I need. I mean, I'm no more scattered and neurotic with no sleep than I am after a full 8 hours. But I'm not going to complain, if it works for me then I'm just going to roll with it.

I'm so excited right now...my writing program brings in established authors to workshop and lecture and so James Tate is with us next Monday. And he's running the poetry workshop I'm in during the day...there's only seven of us in the workshop so **maybe** I might actually get one of my pieces read by him. Sigh. One can only hope.

Of Tate's work, The Lost Pilot is one of my favorite:

Your face did not rot
like the others--the co-pilot,
for example, I saw him

yesterday. His face is corn-
mush: his wife and daughter,
the poor ignorant people, stare

as if he will compose soon.
He was more wronged than Job.
But your face did not rot

like the others--it grew dark,
and hard like ebony;
the features progressed in their

distinction. If I could cajole
you to come back for an evening,
down from your compulsive

orbiting, I would touch you,
read your face as Dallas,
your hoodlum gunner, now,

with the blistered eyes, reads
his braille editions. I would
touch your face as a disinterested

scholar touches an original page.
However frightening, I would
discover you, and I would not

turn you in; I would not make
you face your wife, or Dallas,
or the co-pilot, Jim. You

could return to your crazy
orbiting, and I would not try
to fully understand what

it means to you. All I know
is this: when I see you,
as I have seen you at least

once every year of my life,
spin across the wilds of the sky
like a tiny, African god,

I feel dead. I feel as if I were
the residue of a stranger's life,
that I should pursue you.

My head cocked toward the sky,
I cannot get off the ground,
and, you, passing over again,

fast, perfect, and unwilling
to tell me that you are doing
well, or that it was mistake

that placed you in that world,
and me in this; or that misfortune
placed these worlds in us.

He is brilliant. I'm so happy to have the opportunity to hear him. Maybe...maybe some of his talent will rub off on me. Because seriously, I'm not that good. My writing is just that, a scattered reflection of my psyche. Nothing special. It is what it is. And I know it's not about it being good, it's about being real. But my real is much more fluid and not always apparant at first glance. Which I think makes it harder for me to appreciate what I've written. I don't know. Whatever.

the silent sound of surrender

James is back. Alive. In one piece. Same with his men.
Yo sexy lady,

I am alive. Son of a bitch that was an interesting situation. Close calls. Damn close. No scars. A couple burns but no scars. However, sadly I lost my bandanna with the hearts on them. My friend chris got a bullet to the arm and we needed a tourniquet. He's fine but I think I'm going to let him keep it. But now I'm out a wicked sweet bandanna. Hook me up baby.

I have to go to sleep. i've been awake since saturday. I smell like blood sweat and engine oil too. Thats gotta be sexy.

I'll talk to you later love,

your soldier boy
James

No more late nights worrying...till the next time I get one of those emails from him. But whatever, goes with the territory I guess.

I used to make these little bags of pills up. Kill bags, I called them, filled with enough tranqs to kill a walrus ten times over. I hid them all over my room, in bags, pillowcases, wherever. But always within reach, so if things ever got to the point where I needed out for good, I could grab one and just fall asleep. Strangely enough, it was that bad constantly. But the two times I went to out myself, I never went for those pills. It was the blade and the classic painkillers chased with a bottle of Absolut. But whoops, I'm still here. I couldn't even die right. I think that was the most depressing thing, not even being able to out myself correctly.

I found one of the bags earlier, in with my first pair of pointe shoes. I threw out the bag, kept the shoes.

And I feel better already.

hope is not a course of action

I think I am done seeing myself as damaged. By feeling that I am somehow not a whole person, not only am I allowing myself to look like a victim but I am the victim. I don't know what I've been waiting for, maybe a giant epiphany or somthing to smack me across the cheek, but somthing substantial to change before I evolved into an unbroken being. I mean, nothing major has happened but I just feel like now is the time to start moving towards seeing myself as somthing worth caring about enough to stop breaking down every second.

I quit Coyote. One of the other girls passed me a rail before work last night...I dont know, maybe she thought I was lagging or whatever...but I did it and instantly regretted it. Don't get me wrong, I still crave the rush but I don't want it to become a constant in my life. Last time I worked for a substantial amount of time, it did become that and it pushed me into a really bad place-mental not physical- and I've been fighting to get away from there ever since. So I quit after last night and put in a call to one of my friends who manages a bar over in the Meatpacking district...not too far from where Fiona's new gallery is and definatly walkable from the school where my writing classes are...and I'm going to be there four nights a week. It's called Lotus. It's really chill, very hipster pseudo-intelligentsia vibe and the pay is much better then at Coyote, even after factoring in lost tips I'm still going to be making more at Lotus then I would have.

It really sucks that I'm so shy. I think it goes back to seeing myself as the victim, if I'm invisable-noone can hurt me (if only that were true). I just can't stop thinking about how much I've missed out on because I'm really uncomfortable putting myself out there. I quit dance, pagents, riding, swimming, singing, theatre, photography, most writing...not to mention pretty much hiding under a rock all through middle and high school......just cuz I don't want to deal with the inevitable rejection. My turnout is nonexistant, I'm not pretty enough, I'm too scared to go for the higher jumps, my flipturns are hideous, I'm one step away from being tonedeaf, I don't stay in character, I have a really bad eye for what makes a good shot, I've yet to write anything substantial...and noone told me it wasn't en vogue to be more bohemian than Abecrombie. But anyways, now I'm just not outgoing. And I don't think that it's a huge flaw or anything to be more conservative but now I'm just done with worrying about everything.

In my writing program, I'm supposed to be gathering works I've created over the past five years and I've got almost nothing worth sharing. Yeah I have the scattered poem or reflection but...my writing isn't very good. Certinly not at the level to be expected of someone in the program. And it's not for lack of trying. I'm working on a piece right now for one of my workshops and I think I'm on the eighth draft of it...but still...it's nothing new. Stylistically, thematically...I'm inable to create somthing that hasn't been seen before. I am nothing more than a cheap Chinatown knockoff of the greats.

But I don't know if it matters though. Jack Kerouac tells us to "write in recollection and amazement for yourself" and I guess that's what I do, regardless of venue or genre. I just write. Constantly. And I don't see my pieces as anything innovative because after agonizing over them...they are merely an extention of me so to see them as anything more than that is just a completly foreign idea that I'm not quite ready to wrap my head around yet.

For now though, my puppy just lay down at my feet and is ready to go to sleep. It's kind of funny...I've never been much of an animal person till now. Somthing about my absolute disgust for dependance in any form, kind of why I cannot stand children. But Zen is like me...except a dog. And it's kind of nice having somthing around that likes you, regardless of how the rest of the world sees you.

It makes me think that someday, maybe, I might be ok. And that is worth fighting for.

sweet johnny

So I should know by Monday or Tuesday I'm hoping...either way. I hate this. I put myself in this position though. I'm completly addicted to the military. It's not my fault though, my dad's family for the most part is all Navy or Marine Corps and it's what I've been around since I was a kid. I understand them and they get me. So I guess it works. I just hate the worrying that goes along with it. Every time I hear somthing about Iraq or Afghanistan, I have to take a step back and hope that none of my people were involved or if they were, that they are all ok. Sometimes they aren't ok, but it's a fact of the job. And that sucks.

Completly coincidently, some of our mutual friends are down from Vermont for the week. I think it's good though. I mean, James has no real family...we're pretty much it. So we'll all be together to either revil in triumph or mourn the defeat. Either way though, we're together.

James is my person. More than any of the people I have left, he is my true counterpoint. I love him and I cannot imagine a world without him. Which is good because he is coming home safe.

Never give up hope...it's bad juju.

trouble

So last night at work... some drunk fratboys got a little too physical with the new girl. When Frank, one of the bouncers, came over, one of the shitheads took a swing at him, so Frank punched him in the face. Cops show up, the little rich jerk files a report against my guy and I get stuck cleaning up the blood off the floor when we close.

Not so much fun.

I had to run by the high school earlier to pick up my brother's homework for the next two weeks. Kind of surreal, being back there. It looks the same...same little preppy whores out front, same security guards, same faded awards touting National Honor Society sponsorship and such.

I'm exhausted though. When I got back last night/this morning I took a sleeping pill. Then I woke up two hours later to run before it got too hot out. And I've been up since. Working tonight from 8 till prolly 3 or 4am...whenever we close. And then Monmouth tomorrow with Dad. I know it's kind of hillbilly of us but we go to the racetrack, sit in the stands, have a few beers and bet on the horses. It's always been our thing though, back from when I used to be **obsessed** with all things equine.

James called me this afternoon. The kid's scared out of his mind but I played supportive chic and basically just reassured him. Because I know deep down he's going to be ok. He was born to be a soldier. Hooah.

Oh. Montecristo cigars are amazing. Everyone should smoke them. Plus, I look pretty badass with a cigar and my sunglasses when I'm out playing poker during breaks at work. Hell yeah.

I need some RedBull. Or Stackers. Just somthing to help me make it through the day.