Too Much Information

2001-10-17T10:57:00.000-07:00

Damn. It's been a while. I've moved (both RT and VT), so I'm pretty sure this project is now closed. Email me: centerstage77@yahoo.com. We'll do lunch (or at least pass on my new site). Adieu (...adieu, to yieu and yieu and yieu... OR, alternately: ...my friends. Thus Thisbe ends. ::stabs self vigorously and, after a prolonged struggle, (finally) dies::)!

2001-09-17T13:36:00.000-07:00

Entering the final stages of preparation:

Eek. I've gotta pack up my computer. Somehow this is more monumental than the other boxes sitting on the floor, not yet duct-taped in case I've forgotten anything (more than likely). One's full of CDs and my Thomas Kinkade prints, one's labeled "PJs" 'cause I didn't feel like displaying "underwear" to God and everybody, there's a container bigger than what I packed all of my school supplies in, containing everything from shampoo to sponge rollers to jewelry, across which is scrawled "makeup" - as my little girly-girl joke. I've managed to fit photos, phone numbers, email addresses, and old yearbooks into one marked "People". But jeez... my *computer!*

So this will be the last from me for at least a few days. I'll be reconnected soon up there, but there may be a few bugs to work out 'n such, so be patient. 'Bye!

2001-09-17T00:23:00.000-07:00

Jesus tapdancing CHRIST! Creating an address book out of whole cloth is hard work. I've realized how many people I have in my life. That's 35 in the collective email, 54 on the buddy list (admittedly, some of those are multiple screen names per person), far too many in the reallive little black book. And how many of their birthdays I don't know. Sheesh.

Look, my cat is sitting on my laptop. (That's right, the computer.) Just sitting like a statue, looking at me. No, wait - here she goes... There! She's stuck her hind paw into her ear. I swear, if weirdness were an Olympic event...

2001-09-15T00:38:00.000-07:00

Oh. So *that's* why it's cold in here. My window's still open. Moron.

OK, I think it's time to get back to blogging about random everyday leaving-for-school-really-soon trivia. Like staying up 'til four packing two-thirds of my casual wardrobe and convincing myself to leave the four-layer petticoat (that can stand up by itself!). And having Jockette in my bedroom (she was helping me with the luggage thing) and watching her face get so terrified, even as I'm on the opposite side of the bed. ::snicker:: StalkerGuy getting fed up with me being a ruthless tease, thinking about my "summer" homework assignment that I got in the mail Monday, running from scary QueenV at work. Then there's returning Xena's books to her and adding some of what used to be my own. Trying to find a way to hook up with old friends before I leave. Listening to the general manager quote showtunes in ordinary conversation. Learning when I'm hungry. Not taking my meds. And spending way too much on my last decent Japanese dinner for a while.

I think it's gonna be okay.

2001-09-13T00:05:00.000-07:00

Something from Jockette:

Silence
by Amy Leonard

An eerie silence hangs over us. An unbreakable, unending, overpowering silence that follows us relentlessly and hides in every corner and behind every turn in America today.
The looks are somber and lost, the faces tell a thousand stories, and behind everyone's eyes is a certain pain, for those we lost, for those we could have, for the ones we don't know about yet, and for those we didn't even know. There's no one who hasn't been touched somehow by this, only those who haven't been hit by it yet.
We are lost, struggling to go on, looking for a way back to normality, but realizing that can never be again. We stumble for something to do, some way to help, to ease the pain, but mainly to ease our own pain, sadness, and uncertainty.
Monday we went to sleep safe and sound in our beds, Tuesday we woke up to find those beds weren't so safe, and today and every day from now on we must wake up knowing that and living with the horrors of what we saw Tuesday, September 11. There's no war to fight or cause to pick up, just a deep feeling of uneasiness, and a nameless faceless villain that can strike at any time and that we can't stop.
A silence that fills us up, as we check e-mails, cell phones, wait on edge for phones to ring, and sit glued to coverage waiting for answers that no one has, and searching for a way to go on.

2001-09-12T20:09:00.000-07:00

Random thoughts, delayed:

(This is Remy, so black humor is expected)

1) This is really gonna fuck up Green's birthday.

2) Now aren't we glad I didn't get accepted to NYU?

3) Well, we're gonna have some interesting episodes of The West Wing.

2001-09-12T18:55:00.000-07:00

Well, the crying jags hit this morning. I was looking through blogs, reading eyewitness accounts of the tragedy by people I *know*, and people it seems I know through their daily babble. And I just lost it. The sheer *numbers* stagger me - I learned that more people work in the World Trade Center than live in my hometown. The staff alone, 150 times my graduating class. 3 football fields high of people; glass and concrete and people, with lives and families and pets and dinner plans and stockings with runs and no bigger worries than what to do about little Jimmy's soccer game Wednesday and whether this shade of blue is flattering.

And then, this. My generation's Kennedy assassination, Pearl Harbor. It's inconceivable that something of this magnitude and horror could occur just a week before I'm supposed to head off into my new beginning. It shatters the false safety I've been taught to believe in. The world, as it's never been to me or so many others before, is a scary place. And that, I think, is the saddest part.

I am grateful for the simple things: Chapstick brand, smooth stacks of quarters, hash-browned potatoes cooked just right, sunlight, hugs, stuffed animals, falling asleep in the early afternoon next to my best friend, a blue gumball, comfortable silences, life and love (at once the simplest and yet most complex of all the things in the world). Somehow they make up for the America's Funniest Home Videos theme song that's been playing greasily in my head since early this morning.

::sings softly, chillingly on pitch:: America, America, this is you.

2001-09-12T08:25:00.000-07:00

And EvEl was already at school in Ohio. This is a relief.

Thank you so much, those of you who've asked after me or my friends. It really is appreciated. A small bit of comfort in this... madness.

2001-09-11T19:32:00.000-07:00

Oh, thank God. LEL's all right. Shaken as hell, but physically undamaged. I was so worried...

2001-09-11T19:25:00.000-07:00

Cupcake, who reminds me so much of LEL, greeted me today with a big smile and a cheery hello, and I started to smile back at her and then I just froze. It was too weird. And it hurt.

2001-09-11T13:02:00.000-07:00

"Remain calm. The government has a plan to continue operating efficiently." And for this I should be thankful? It would be almost laughable, if it weren't so incredibly awful. The thing is, I/we've just got to trust in that. There's really nothing else to do.

I don't know whether EvEl has left for college yet; I can only hope that LEL was nowhere near. There are others, of course, but these are foremost in my mind. LEL's website is down, and it would be monumentally stupid to call. Who knows?

Shell-shock. Delayed reaction. Controlled response. All terms to describe the phenomenon. And still it feels like emptiness, feverish groggy disbelief. The pain and terror and emotion will come later. And what else will crumble as it explodes in flame?

Why are people this horrible?

2001-09-06T09:00:00.000-07:00

Dude. As countless punks, skaters, druggies, and wannabes have so eloquently put it: fuck this shit. My mother felt compelled to wake me up at the ungodly hour of seven thirty this morning and rant at me to clean the living room, kitchen, bathroom, etc. She's just lucky I went to bed before ten last night so that I was actually capable of *being* conscious that early. This is why I hate being woken - it seems like every single time I can remember, at home, with or without the alarm clock, it means a loud voice and perhaps a pair of rough hands invading my quiet, safe space to shake me into hell. I react so violently around others, too. Some of 'em have learned how to avoid it; some simply take the phenomenon in stride. It's a shame.

In other news: I attended Twinkle's going-away party last night. Army theme; I somehow reconciled dogtags with the new rainbow ring she gave me. Her little ones are *so* adorable! (Yes, Jockette, I know. I'm gonna end up with a dozen (this for Verdon) "knee-highs". But these were blonde!) We've got some smashing Polaroids, the most notable being of Mango with his arms around me, my leg wrapped around his hips, him pointing to me, and saying to the camera, "It's a lesbian! A real, live lesbian!" Crazy guy, but fun.

I'm somewhat better, but I had a busy day. Brunch w/ Verdon and The Bun; crashing choir at the middle school; swapping life stories on the playground; shopping downtown w/ Twinkle; quick drop-in to former English teachers; Twink's party; a ride in Red's brother's truck (illegal but fun - aren't most things?), etc. Early to bed, early to rise makes this girl cranky, selfish, and dead. Fuck, now I'm sneezing. It's gonna be a looooooonnnng day...

2001-09-04T19:44:00.000-07:00

Blecch. I feel lousy. But I've acquired a new concept: sick days. This is the first time I've called in sick to work, certainly this summer, and quite possibly ever. I never was one to take more than a day off from school (even if my mother would let me, which, of course, she wouldn't. ADA and all that.). PixyStik and I seem to be passing bugs back and forth. So I'm gonna go pop some Advil and crash on the couch. Oooh, fun....

2001-09-03T02:58:00.000-07:00

Argh. I simply cannot stop eating. This is bad; this is very, very bad. Think I'll try that thing of not eating after 5, or 7 maybe, so I can have dinner with the family if need be. Might stop this midnight-snack-that-ate-Manhattan thing. I have no willpower.

2001-09-02T00:36:00.000-07:00

Gosh, I adore Jockette's mom! She came to pick up her daughter at work today, and we sat down in the aisles in Kids and just started talking. She's sweet and funny and just so NICE - it's weird actually having a conversation with a friend's mom, especially since my experiences with friends' parents (absent, mostly, or hostile) and in-laws (way weird, especially the moms) and potential in-laws (Dude! Don't hate me 'cause I wanna jump your daughter - especially since you have no proof that she'd reciprocate.) have been overall negative. This is a woman who'll discuss children's literature with me! (Not to mention I hear all sorts of cute stories about when Jockette was little.) Fun-ness!

2001-08-29T01:59:00.001-07:00

And, yes, Verdon, it's two o'clock and I'm leaving. Sheesh...

2001-08-29T01:59:00.000-07:00

So. Heard something tonight that reminded me of the time I was so bad last year that, at the middle school's holiday concert, a teacher - our money's on The Bun - told my mother that, "if she didn't know better, she'd think [I] were on drugs". Yecch.

And I am *such* a klutz! The regulars at the cafe are gonna have to start calling me the Blistered Barista or something.

Showed up at school today; ended up eating lunch in the English Office with most of the department. Hugs from Xena! We're doing lunch before I leave, with her fiance, the Gnome, if possible. It was nice seeing Ms. Birkenstock, and Alanis actually greeted me of her own volition! (Green's got her for English this year, and Bobby's taking from Ms. Birkenstock. Coolness.) I'll be back at some time before I leave, to surprise Jazz with The Bun's favorite popsicles on a day she's not so stressed.

2001-08-28T00:32:00.000-07:00

Oh dear goodness. You know you've found a friend when they come over and help you clean your room, do your laundry, and even fold your underwear. ::giggle:: I am so much closer to being packed. And hopefully my mother will let me go bowling.

I'm crashing the first day of school (silly Remy, high school's for kids!) tomorrow - briefly - in order to deliver some yummy apple-cinnamon and blueberry muffins to my 4th favorite spot (the others, in order: 1. choir room 2. Xena's room 3. the theater), the English Office. Xena'll be totally hectic (duh! I know this; my mother's a teacher too), but I just wanna say hi, get a few hugs, catch up with some new seniors, and leave some sunshine. Does that make me a bad person?

2001-08-26T00:08:00.000-07:00

Jesus tapdancing Christ! I am having the worst day, and I'm being a proper bitch. Generally, when I get this overwhelmed, I avoid screaming and crying (though sleeping is good) and sit down and make a rant list of all the things that are bothering me. OK, here's the list: I got to bed after three last night, I have no access to my bed (and neither does anyone else, unfortunately) and am sleeping on the floor, because I need to pack and clean my room, which I haven't done - haven't even started packing, in fact - Jockette is sending odd mixed messages, but it's my fault for not understanding them and responding appropriately, I had to work too much cafe today, the Kids bins are totally crammed, one of the people I work with thinks she's a manager already and takes it upon herself to criticize me, my back hurts, my head hurts, I have cramps, I broke down and took Tylenol, which didn't really help and made me tireder and woozy, I'm not hungry, I need food, I hate food, I'm too damn pale, I shouldn't have worn this outfit, my makeup's smeared, I wanted to go out after work with Shamrock and Bobby and Brown, my mother won't let me, I've barely been out all summer, I haven't seen my shrink in two weeks, my mother's birthday is tomorrow and I actually got her something because my dad's been whining at me, I miss Xena (my other mommy) and Green (whose psycho ex-boyfriend scares me), I have an orthodontist appointment Monday, where my doctor will lecture me and give me new retainers (which I hatehatehateHATE!), this PixyStik girl from work was flashing her little camera in my face, I hate being photographed, especially when I know I don't look good and I didn't look good and I want sleep and hugs and ATTENTION andIhavetobeabiggirlandIdon'tWANNA!!!!!

::breathes:: So, basically, I went into the back room of the cafe and screamed, which made me feel better, until Little Miss PixyStik pokes her head in and starts taking pictures of me having a (minor; I'm in public, after all) temper tantrum, which reminded me too much of my mother taping mine so she could play them back to my second-grade teacher, whom I adored. So I gritted my teeth, didn't look at her, and said, "If you do that one more time, I swear I'm either gonna burst into tears or strangle you. So *please* leave me alone." Which is probably not the best way to handle it, but I didn't hit her. And then the magazine boy squeals out of the parking garage like a maniac and I stood in the middle of the road and actually yelled, "Bring it on, bitch!" (so cliche) and I really, REALLY wanted to throw something and now my throat hurts and the only good parts of my day were that an older couple commented on my Camp Anytown shirt, and Jockette came and found me of her own free will to hug me goodbye, and Verdon is getting people together for bowling, and the tall, scary, funny, ex?-druggie I work with gives good hugs, and my mother was not awake to lecture me when I got home (earlier than usual), 'cause I'm not sure I trusted myself to be good.

2001-08-22T00:27:00.000-07:00

Woo-hoo! I not only have a Yahoo account, I now have my very own computer system - in my bedroom! Life is grand.

In other news: I've been better, but today was surprisingly good. Much better than the last... week. Maybe it's my hair. The HR Bear does not hate me.

Countdown to leaving CA: 28 days

2001-08-21T00:44:00.000-07:00

OK, the answer to the everlasting question: Yeah, I do Yahoo. ::annoying soundbite::

centerstage77@yahoo.com

2001-08-18T00:05:00.000-07:00

Now, don't be silly. It's absolutely ridiculous for a girl your age to be afraid of the dark. Even if you did run across "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark 3" and review some of those nightmare-causing tales from first grade campfires. And then had to wander down a pitch-black driveway full of unknown obstacles all by yourself at midnight. After seeing that trailer for the classic slasher films collection. Irrelevant. So get over it. And stop it right now!

2001-08-16T03:03:00.000-07:00

::Remy peels her red, itchy, aching eyelids open and peers at the clock:: It is too %(#&@*$ late (early?) to blog. But I haven't in a while, so consider this a token attempt.

Work. Lots of work. And life. And stuff. Jockette bought a car! (useless bit of trivia, but now she can have a semblance of a social life. If she wants to.)

Yeah. I'm gonna go crash. Haven't been this icky in a while, not even the other night when I was sobbing on the phone at 1 A.M. Both nights, actually. One was closer to 11, though. Whatever. I blogged. Unlike a certain New York rebel geek goddess. Hmmph.

2001-08-07T13:58:00.000-07:00

AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGH!!!!!

2001-08-07T11:39:00.000-07:00

Oh, Cupid, you foolish boy...
You should take better aim with your new toy.

2001-08-03T11:46:00.000-07:00

Yeah. So I spent, like, 6 hours talking to this random Borders ex-employee last night. Not a bad sort, but... I dunno. He reminds me of a cross between Blue and Teddy Bear Boy, if such an unholy union were possible. Whatever. That means trouble. Finally had to enlist the staff to kick him out the door. Dunno *what* the managers are thinking - I've received a multitude of weird looks and semi-snide comments (the latter being per usual). All I have to say is: I'm working. (And doing a better job of it than some of their employees! Although the HR Bear has managed to get rid of most of those.)

2001-08-02T11:37:00.000-07:00

Now and again comes a time where a girl just has to throw up her hands and proclaim to the world at large:

Life is not fair. Damn.

2001-08-01T15:32:00.000-07:00

Green is back! YAYAYAYAYAY! And first thing, she called ME! (I feel special. Her travel buddies think she's nuts.)

And I went to my first Al-Anon meeting. Minor creepiness, but I'll go back, if only to listen. Had my bookends (or bodyguards), Verdon and The Bun, for support. Needed it. Better.

Later...

2001-08-01T15:29:00.000-07:00

Well, my deviousness has served me well, it seems. An overload of notes and a set tape with some great artists. Awesomeness. I knew I *had* these resources, but it's not often I get to utilize them.

And, OK, I'm glowing. I'm a fucking glowworm. Damn, it feels good!

2001-07-30T19:14:00.000-07:00

...But I'm only 55% Bitch. I'm so ashamed! ::sobs hysterically::

Just got back from Ashland. It was loverly; more later, I guess. And I got a letter from Greeneyes in England! Love you, Green! Now I won't have to come to her in the dark of some night and bring with me a pointy reckoning that will shudder her... but it still might be fun!

I also won ten easy dollars... but I'd rather have it in trade. ::evil grin::

Toodles; I'm gonna go call people and see how their weekends were (and hopefully how my deviousnesss worked out). Wish me well!

2001-07-26T00:53:00.000-07:00

Guess what? I'm 62% gay! Who knew?

2001-07-18T21:51:00.000-07:00

OK, here's the news:

My dad got pissed because I missed a dental appointment and has kicked me offline for a month. I have my ways, however, and Blogger and HBI are accessible from anywhere. I have, at present, 223 new emails (since Thursday) and will be getting in touch with you some way, even if it's not until August 10. Call me if it's feasible.

An update on this week:

I obtained a copy of Adult Children of Alcoholics and have taken a lot of it to heart. Verdon's being wonderful. I'm still not going to a meeting. :-P New therapist, who seems much better than the last (who threw the Higher Power at me and tried to put me through an abridged 12-step program).

Jockette and I will be seeing Mary Chapin Carpenter *and* Shawn Colvin this weekend; Indigo Girls is Wednesday with Teddy Bear Boy. I have ammo from a conversation between our mothers: her middle name. ::giggle:: It's lovely (and so's she), but hardly suits her. Oh, and I found out that she conforms to my... what? Third? Principle. Goodie.

I have a challenge for LEL, since I never get to talk to her, especially since I'm offline. Write a fic with the title "A Proportional Response."

2001-07-11T19:20:00.000-07:00

Oh. My. GODDESS!!!!!!! I GOT IN! (And here I thought they'd forgotten all about me.)

Come see me at HBI.

2001-07-11T19:18:00.000-07:00

::grin:: She called. Am I being overtly smug?

2001-07-11T18:17:00.000-07:00

Rabi says:

"...and while it's not the sort of thing I usually eat I thought having something to keep my fingers and my mouth busy might also help keep my mind busy, or at least conscious."

She was talking about nuts. Peanuts, that is. I love her prose.

2001-07-11T13:13:00.000-07:00

::giggle:: Ok, take the quiz. Settle it once and for all: how butch/femme are you? (::mutters under her breath:: I'll show you "girly-girl"...)

Hint: check all that apply, and see how your answer changes.

I alternated between
LEVEL 3-- LIPSTICK LESBIAN
Yes, you're the cliché of the Modern Millennium Lesbian! You understand the benefits of wearing makeup but mostly leave the house in a ponytail and baseball cap. Whenever a movie is made with a Lesbian in it you see yourself on screen. Flannels are a mainstay of your wardrobe but you have a nice little black cocktail dress for the right occasion. Your last big event was having all your friends over to watch "If These Walls Could Talk 2"!
and
LEVEL 4-- FEMINIST
Gloria Steinem is more than a hero to you-she is a Goddess! You threw away your DD36 bras years ago along with all the other symbols of female cultural slavery and oppression. You spend your weekends rescuing cats from the pound and you attend regular meetings of "WOMYN: Life Without Sperm"!

Like, *I* knew that! (And so, apparently, did a multitude of my friends. I oughta just tattoo "FELLAGIRLY" across my, um... forehead. Yeah.)

2001-07-11T13:07:00.000-07:00

Hey. She (this is Jockette; I guess this means I've found another obsession - such a nice stalker word! - to hang a pronoun on) wrote me a note. Inviting me to Mary Chapin Carpenter. On a night I have to work. (Why, gods, why?!) Just when I was starting to like the job. (My first "real" day was yesterday, and it's SO much nice without Queen V hovering over my shoulder!) I wanna go!!! ::pout::

Sheesh, people, back off! I'm *working* on it.

It was actually a really nice note. Even if her handwriting is illegible (see, that's why we type. In Georgia font.). Along with an illegible email address (::hoping I got it right::). But cute. The smile it provoked was definitely in the chocolate-covered-Oreos category. And considering it was after 11 at night, that's something.

Which reminds me: EvEl (The *other* "she"? Nah. The *former* she. ::note to self: examine pettiness later::) emailed me all the way from camp. In Massachussetts. I feel so *special* (Yes, Verdon, that *was* sarcasm). It is cool to hear from her, though. Now if only LEL would blog...

2001-07-09T12:59:00.000-07:00

So here's the question of the day: is being sexually submissive simply perpetuating the stereotype that abused women secretly want to be hit and end up as sick puppies? Just wondering...

And why is it so much less gross to put butter on challah than to butter a croissant? Eww... *lite* cranberry juice - are people getting too paranoid or what? (You have just been privy to Remy's Lunch. We hope you'll join us next week for "Ramen: the college kid's staple starch source".)

2001-07-08T22:11:00.000-07:00

And, on the theory of Six Lesbians and Mirrors (the Recycling Phenomenon)...
Twink: i don't do this... i don't talk to exes, i'm not friends with them, hell, i'm not even nice to friends' exes. and now i'm having delusions that my once-best-friend, once-boyfriend, now-neither hates me. i've got problems
Remy: weird. maybe it's a dyke thing... we're almost always friendly w/ our exes - unless they're evil bitches ::g::
Twink: but you're all girls, that's the point, isn't it?
Remy: um... the point of being a lesbian? ::eg::
Twink: no
Remy: ohh. i dunno
Twink: the point of having girlfriends as opposed to boyfriends... easier on the mind... i thought the dyke thing was about sex
Remy: hey... we're WOMEN. it's about a nurturing, caring, female-oriented relationship
Remy: ::snork::
Twink: ok... and then there's the sex, right? lol
Remy: and THEN there's the sex. but seriously - it's not just about sex. you didn't really think that, did you?
Twink: of course not
Twink: i don't think you're a shallow bitch
Remy: oh, ok. gosh, thanks
Twink: i think you're a funny, sensitive, sweet and deep bitch

Take *that*, HBI! (who STILL haven't answered my application.)

2001-07-08T21:52:00.000-07:00

Wow. It's been a long week. One in which I've barely had time to eat/sleep/breathe, much less blog. Or have important conversations like the one I shared with Verdon earlier this evening on our interminable neighborhood amble (the company was fine; it was the exercise I'd have liked to avoid).

I miss my Greeneyes. She emailed me! But occasionally I'll glance at the phone and think, "Oh! I should call her..." and then just as quickly realize that SHE'S IN ENGLAND, you moron! It's weird not having her constantly across town and easily accessible on the other end of a phone line. (Wow, that's an *odd* bit of syntax. Nah. Must be just the twist of the convo I had w/ Verdon.)

And, BTW: *someone* IS getting more than her. It's just not me. ::pout::

2001-07-05T21:13:00.000-07:00

Ouch. ::Remy winces as she eases her poor, tired body into a chair and takes the weight of her considerable bulk off of her aching feet:: I have realized that, while working two jobs that combine into a 55-hour workweek and walking a few miles back and forth between them, leg cramps like these will become commonplace this summer. Kudos to all you power execs out there who go through the day in heels - but I bet you get to spend most of it behind a desk. ::Mumbles something about the sacrifices we make in the name of retail:: This is *so* much different from rehearsal (where you can occasionally sit down, or stretch, or at the very least dance and actually *move* your legs). On the bright side, I'm building my calf muscles. And enlarging my knowledge of coffee (I spent eight hours in the café today.). Oh yeah. See, every cloud has a silver lining. The only question is whether it's a double short decaf white mochaccino or a créme de menthe Italian soda with a shot of Sprite. Argh. Hot tub, here I come!

2001-07-04T19:44:00.000-07:00

AAAh! She has a website! ::Remy dives desperately for pictures of Maggie, sending bystanders flying:: No! You can't have her! She's MINE! Mine, you hear? ::As security drags her away from the blonde-braided goddess (Wow, she's a redhead in these pictures! Kick-ass!)while various Assemblies of God people look on in horror, she manages to scream into the night:: I LOVE YOU, MAGGIE!!! ::aside to beefy security guards:: Let go of me, you dumb pigs!

2001-07-04T12:39:00.000-07:00

And, a week later, I have decided that it's time to de-claw myself. Again. Almost. First I might paint them red (they're certainly long enough for that) for the Fourth. To go with my white dress and... blue shoes? I'll see if I can borrow my sister's (even if she does have size 10.5 feet. The girl is an Amazon!).

Saw RENT last night, in San Francisco. Third time there (but a different cast), plus the one on Broadway when Purr went to NY last, in January. Realized as I was relating this last night that January (and therefore the trip) was a LONG time ago. But back to RENT! I went up w/ Kitty and Idgie, and we camped outside the stage door (nowhere near such a big production as in NY) and got autographs. I went for Joanne, Angel, and Maureen - who was the *sweetest* thing (not to mention adorably cute). She gave me a hug (since I was obviously a stagestruck babydyke), and it was nice! She gives the closest thing to Reese hugs that I've ever experienced! I-frame versus A-frame, as Idgie put it. ::swoon:: OK, back to reality. I've just added another blonde - her name's Maggie Benjamin - to The List.

2001-07-02T22:12:00.000-07:00

::rolling around on the floor - by HERSELF, overheated kiddies! - laughing so hard she can barely breathe and has to smother herself with her palm for fear of waking TPTB from a drunken stupor, making high-pitched screamy noises at the authors' bitchiness at each other (Blue Champagne *and* Liz Griffin: witty dialogue *and* hot sex - well, not in this one) and wishing for a Blue Champagne NC-17 fic WITHOUT Bashir and O'Brian (for the record, I am still a minor and subsequently did not read the aforementioned fic or any other with disclaimers pertaining to "over 18 only". A little bird told me. So there.):: You. Have. Got. To. Read. This. After the disclaimers, of course.

2001-07-02T21:04:00.000-07:00

There's a special on channel four. On people facing their fears and getting paid for it. So, naturally, my parents are teasing me about the time I signed up for a ropes course at my mother's insistence and got so upset that I had to be lowered down halfway through it, sobbing hysterically. I was ten. My one major fear (y'know, after serial killers, drowning, and public speaking) is of falling. And here are these kids bungee-jumping into a net (a stupid thing to do at any cost; you can break your hand so easily) and my mom and dad are laughing over my refusal to do something like that for money. I just wouldn't. I'd eat the worm cocktail, and maybe even climb through the pitch-black sewer (I can talk myself through the dark, but the water gives me pause), but not the jumping. I just can't handle that. I don't *do* stuff like that for mere money. Not $50,000, anyway. I'd hold out for at least a hundred.

And their ridicule is making me snippy. I'm not having a good night. These are the same people who yesterday compared me unfavorably, loudly, and publicly to my younger sister in the areas of both height and bra size. And they *wonder* why I'm in therapy.

2001-07-02T18:13:00.000-07:00

Hehe. Here's help for those of us not as imaginative or proficient as LEL.

2001-07-01T19:27:00.000-07:00

::grin:: Yet another perk of working at a bookstore: meeting women. A very nice jockette works in Children's with me, and we had "coffee, etc." (NOT as bad as it sounds; ask me for the full story on the phrase) after her shift ended. She's a basketball-playing mountain grrl. Homeschooled, very bright, funny, sweet, cute in that upturned-nose, broad-shouldered, one-dimpled, ponytailed way. Fun!

And work was, again, very nice. Learned how to make a double short non-fat caramel latte, which - coming from a girl who didn't know what a latte WAS - was an amazing improvement. Also learned about the café register and met new people while shelving in the Kids' section. Verdon dropped by and scared the daylights out of me by popping up from around a corner. Apparently she enjoyed herself in Santa Cruz last night.

That's all for now - dinner calls. ::smooch:: Later!

2001-07-01T01:21:00.000-07:00

I have the worst cramps. I know, overshare. But this blog's named so for a reason. I really want a massage; get all the tension out of my back. I need human physical contact. I miss Green. And I baked yellow cake with chocolate frosting, after I got really upset because I couldn't find any eggs and I didn't WANT chocolate ice cream. Also got hysterical over a piece of Liz Griffin fanfic. And I should sleep, instead of sitting here getting all teary-eyed over where EvEl's going to college. Sheesh. Hormones suck.

2001-06-30T17:35:00.000-07:00

Does it make me a bad person if I wanna wallop that kid right now?

2001-06-30T17:02:00.000-07:00

YAYAYAYAYAY! I'm working at Borders! Today was my first day of training, and I held up better than Shamrock, who broke down in tears, said she felt "overwhelmed," and left early. Poooor baybee. So I'm the newest newbie. They put me in the Kids' section, but I don't mind. There are adults looking for stuff upstairs, too, and I get to help them. By virtue of being "special" (:-P to Verdon), I know enough to direct them to the correct section, find their requested title or a recommendation of my own, and put it into their hot little hand. Even *without* using the computer (though I can do that, too. Up to a point.) My supervisor was flabbergasted and quite pleased. I dunno who they end up hiring... oh, wait. I do. People like that cashier bitch. Right, don't talk smack about the employees. Gotcha.

And one of the managers TOTALLY reminds me of LEL - "shortish and brunette and cute and bright and seems hysterically funny. And I talked to her for almost a whole minute!" Spent a lot of time squatting to see the bottom shelves and running up and down stairs. I'm gonna have fun here... if my knees hold out. But I get free tea!

2001-06-28T15:34:00.000-07:00

Wow. Ever feel like you've found a kindred spirit? A really scary one, at that. Everyone go check out (look, but don't touch!) Heartless Bitches International, and fall to your knees in awe. "A Heartless Bitch® is simply an example of the way women should be (and are): strong, intelligent, irreverent, independent, demanding, evolving, witty, unsatisfied and possessing ovaries of steel." Here's hoping they accept my application and don't *THWAP* me for linking to them.

2001-06-26T20:51:00.000-07:00

So I figure if I'm going to HAVE nails (and I do; I have long, lovely, strong, shapely fingernails - if only they were my legs! - except for the middle one on the right that's starting to flatten out), I may as well take care of them. So I got a manicure. They are now, ironically, Blue blue, the color of his hair and of the polish he borrowed from Greeneyes. Unfortunately, I smudged one slightly - it was my left middle finger - while scrambling for the cell phone in the back seat; however, it was worth it because, when my mother asked if I'd ruined any, I was able to hiss "THIS one" as I flipped her off. It's actually not that bad; the polish is so dark it doesn't show. I am SUCH a prima donna. But I've gotta keep my claws in good condition. Never know when you're gonna have to use them.

2001-06-26T18:54:00.000-07:00

Kitty and I were SO the babydyke contingent. I wore my new black velvet overalls and that blue shirt that's really Brown's, but she's in a tiff so she's not gonna get it back any time soon. This thing was really fun - so many women were topless (I know; that's not the point). Still, probably more titties than I've seen in, like, most of my life. Those two naked women sitting on the windowsill making out gave me some pause, though. Idgie and I discussed the possible ramifications of paint chips and splinters. Ick.

Anyway, my inner cheerleader came out, so to speak. I was waving and blowing kisses to everyone on the roof and sidewalk and waving from the windows. There was a huge "Muff-Divers Unite" banner fluttering from a rooftop several stories up. I thought of Dad. Missed Verdon and her ex, but high-fived Spike and her boygirl while heading into the final stretch. Kitty ended up topless on the dance floor, which was a bit of a surprise. Her sister seemed unperturbed, however, until the video cameras became evident. I danced (surprise!). 'Twas fun.

The three of us stopped by Pomodoro and Tart to Tart on our way out of the city (Kitty's parents wanted us out of there by dark, and... we kinda made it. Once the street party gets going and the liquor (not to mention other things) gets flowing, it becomes a little less fun for some of us. Although I might've gotten some action if the grrls were drunk enough... Never mind.) Home by 11:30; Greeneyes had to deal with my dad for an hour because she was sleeping over. More on that, later...

2001-06-26T18:53:00.000-07:00

So there were lots of interesting outfits, and a giant "Pussy Power" sign that we sat right under and lots of neon stickers, like "A Lesbian A Day Keeps The Patriarchy At Bay" and "Celebrate Perversity". I changed my green "Bi-Dyke" to read "Baby Bi-Dyke" and scribbled the same on Kitty's back in eyeliner. She was cute - one sticker on each boob and a "Pro-sex, Pro-choice, Pussy Positive" sticker on her crotch. A photographer caught sight of us and took pictures. Not surprisingly, they ran out of "Single Dyke" stickers early on, but I picked up one later during the march. We watched the Dykes on Bikes take off (::drool::) and got so distracted that we ended up closer to the back than we wanted.

2001-06-26T18:52:00.000-07:00

All right, here's what you've all been waiting for (some more enthusiastically than others): the Pride Weekend Chronicles! It's gonna get broken up into segments, 'cause Blogger's a pussy and can't take it all at once.

On Friday night I slept over at Kitty's. We watched Hackers, Boys On the Side, and Better Than Chocolate, and the next day her big sister Idgie took us up to San Francisco and the Dyke March. Wow.

We caught a late lunch at Hot 'N Hunky, then headed on over to Dolores Park where there were just SCADS of women. And one of the fun parts was not having to look over the crowd and say, "No, no. Yes, but straight, no, NO. Dyke. Maybe. Not a chance in hell," like usual. This time, they were ALL oriented the "right" way, and it was more like "No, yes. Wow. No. Maybe. That brunette! Not my type. Yes, God, yes! And... Definitely not." You know, actually a selection (like I can afford to be so picky... Sheesh.).

2001-06-26T10:29:00.000-07:00

Hmm... I tried to to post about my new therapist last night, but I guess it didn't work. It's weird... she's the first one not to validate my anger against my mother, and she's older and seems more conservative than the others, and talks about herself and her family. I feel like I'm on my best behavior at my grandmother's house. This should be interesting...

And, on an entirely different note, I HATE being thoroughly and completely misunderstood, especially in a way that makes ME look bad. I mean, please. C'mon.

2001-06-25T22:57:00.000-07:00

Jeez. I need to blog. There's a huge amount of stuff about Pride and the Dyke March. Greeneyes scared the living hell out of me (there's a LOT of hell in me, so that takes a lot), but she's all better now. I WILL post about it. Just... not now. Deal?

2001-06-24T22:29:00.000-07:00

YAYAYAYAYAYAY! Congratulations are in order. MY FANFIC GOT PUBLISHED!!!!

2001-06-21T22:41:00.000-07:00

Wow. I now remember why I do not frequent AOL chat rooms. These people are IDIOTS! OK, much better now.

2001-06-21T19:30:00.000-07:00

Ooh! I'm seeing a side of my dad that's rarely emerged in the past four years (except for that time he got really drunk and made references to his "muff-diving eldest daughter" - should I take a bow?). Now that Pride's rolled around, he's taken to making disapproving sighs behind his imaginary newspaper and ominous growls into his all-too-real wine glass whenever I mention my weekend plans for the Pride Parade and the Dyke March. "Well, I understand that. I don't have to celebrate it." (So he's hauling me off to a softball championship the day before. Good tactics. NOT.) Too bad, Daddy-o. I'm off to have a damn good time - and come home practically covered with Queer Cooties!

2001-06-21T15:48:00.000-07:00

And one of the best definitions I've heard, from Tracy Schmidt (She identifies as a bi and poly femme dyke top whose areas of obsession include gender, motorcycles, S/M, travel, and cleavage):

"...to me, a femme is someone who takes the characteristics and stereotypes associated with being a woman and uses them as a source of personal power. Like, if someone is gonna stare at my body anyway, I'm damn well gonna make them look, and once I have their attention, I'm gonna tell them something. Get it?"

2001-06-21T15:22:00.000-07:00

Apologies to Chris Lombardi and Anything That Moves; this is probably illegal, but it really spoke to me. You who've been there know...

"...finally cried, not because I loved Colette but because I didn't, because I should have, because someone should have, because she had let the lack of love eat her from the inside."

2001-06-21T12:27:00.000-07:00

The telephone. One of humanity's greatest inventions. Even if I have turned the earpiece purple. It's also cheaper and more fun than actual psychobabble. As was forcibly brought to my attention by my mother. Bitch.

Unfortunately, lewd yet ultimately harmless actions don't work so well as they do online. (e.g., ::as she leaves the room, I reach out and snap her bra:: "But I'm not wearing one!") See, the funny thing is, I wasn't but I hadn't thought to mention it. Sometimes my wit escapes me.

2001-06-20T19:49:00.000-07:00

Oh, sadness. This deserves recognition:

"The Eleventh Commandment" Collin Raye

She hears his heavy breathing in the dark
His footsteps coming closer down the hall
She's so ashamed, she's daddy's secret love
She wants to cry, she wants to die, but he can't get enough
The bruises on his face will go away
Mom keeps him home from school till they fade
She's sorry he was born and tells him so
He takes it in, he hangs his chin, he ducks another blow
Did God overlook it
What ought have been written
The eleventh commandment
Honor thy children
He cries for hours, cries and never stops
He shakes so hard his little cradle rocks
He'll never have the chance to be brand new
He'll never walk, he'll never talk, he's addicted too
Did God overlook it
What ought have been written
The eleventh commandment
Honor thy children
Thou shalt not kill
Thou shalt not steal
Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain
Thou shalt not cause thy children pain
God does not overlook it
What ought have been written
The eleventh commandment
Honor thy children
Honor thy children

2001-06-20T17:57:00.000-07:00

Well, that was mildly disturbing. The things some people will say after the fact. The comfort (?) lies in the fact that while they may "never have found me attractive," both of them certainly expended a lot of energy in proving the opposite. Mini-B makes quite a bit of (not-entirely-pleasant) sense: "I don't get it, but she's gotta be doing SOMETHING right."

2001-06-20T15:03:00.000-07:00

Gotta love those techies. No need to wrangle for keys to get into the band hall to rescue my sleeping bag, etc. Just smile and walk through the theater. Yes! AND (::kiddish grin::) I have sparkles in my hair!

2001-06-20T00:29:00.000-07:00

I have three things to say about it. Just three, and then I'll remain smugly silent - or try, at least.

1) ::snicker::

2) Plenty, huh?

3) Wow.

2001-06-19T18:42:00.000-07:00

I'm actually talking to strange people (that is, people I don't know, who are also a little bit odd). Just kinda "reach out and email someone" whose blog you like. That sort of thing. Fun.

2001-06-19T16:50:00.000-07:00

Argh. I hate orthodontics. Not only do these damn appliances make me sound like a mentally deficient six-year-old, they HURT. Almost as bad as the spacers, ever so long ago.

2001-06-19T15:33:00.000-07:00

Silly things I've said recently:

Doti: why can't there be a magic wand to wave and make everything work out wonderfully?
Me: um... there is. and it's MINE!!! bwahahahaha!!

Doti: i wish someone would knock some sense into Vectra
Me: i'd offer my services as a hitman... er, woman... but i really don't wanna wreck my manicure

eh, my reputation is greatly exaggerated... i do KNOW how to do some of the things they say i've done. but, then again, i've never actually done them...

it's remy, the girl from the wrong side of the tracks... er, country

remy does it the easy way!
and if you quote that out of context, i will come to you in the dark of some night and bring with me a pointy reckoning that will shudder you.

Me: and my voice hates me. it's pouting and hiding in the corner
LEL: awww!!
Me: noooo! NOT cute
Me: *i* am, but not the voice. it's a bitch

(Re: Tegan and Sara) oh, scary little babydyke teenyboppers

KateFan (Re: Angelina): yeah, she's fucked up... but psychos are great in bed...lemme tell ya
Me: oh? i wouldn't know... mine went psycho both before and after the fact
Me: but not during (damn!)

ahhhhhhhhhh! they're everywhere! watching me... aaaaaaaaah!!!
oh, it's just you. hi.

Kitty: =oP
Me: i KNOW what you want to do to him (Heath Ledger), dear. you don't have to graphically gesticulate

jeez... they just killed gabby again

(In response to Kitty IM'ing me yet AGAIN) you again? don't you ever get tired, woman?

hey. i'm for bed. my cold, empty, lonely bed

yeah, ms. "walks in beauty like the night" poetess here

uh-huh. or it could just be your napolean complex talking

ah. so i... consume others?
or burn them down?
i'm just flaming, huh?

(Fanfic disclaimer) Well, duh, Xena and Gabrielle (upon whom these characters are based) aren’t mine. They belong to MCA/Universal, who are too chickens--t to do anything like this. Don’t sue me - I’m a starving student and I won’t be able to pay off your mortgage. I’ll put ‘em back when I’m finished playing.
Cliché alert! I cover just about every possible PC lesbian theme in here, minus chem-free music festivals. No sex in this one (sorry, er, ladies, but at one point I had to turn it in for a grade in English, and however much my teacher likes me, that wasn’t gonna cut it), some non-graphic violence (domestic abuse), implied f/f romance (YAYAYAYAYAY!). If that isn’t your cup of tea, get lost.
Oh, also: this, while not my first attempt at writing, is my first completed fanfic. I think it’s pretty harmless, but be forewarned. No flames! Other comments are welcome at RemyT@AOL.com

2001-06-19T11:17:00.000-07:00

Ooh! Rabi got mentioned in Blogs of Note. I am inexplicably proud.

My eyes look very odd against my hair. Since I didn't bleach it before I dyed, it's much more subtle, and has the effect of making me appear... darker, I guess. Which is good. I LIKE dark.

2001-06-19T00:34:00.000-07:00

"you read too much or too little into what i do or do not say, there is no sense of subtlety within you"

And he would know... how? This is really starting to piss me off - Mr. Magnanimous dispensing wisdom from his throne. (I know, Remy, let it go.)

2001-06-19T00:15:00.000-07:00

What is this? This pseudo-philosophical shit we do? What am I sharing with him; why is it that his particular brand of vagueness brings out my strongest acidity? And I was so sure I'd gotten to the point where it makes no difference. But it does. Go away!

*better a child for too long than growing up too early... both of which i've managed to combine, surprisingly*

nah, you woulda popped by now. i would you were still a child but wise for your years, or an adult with childish fears, yay or nay, but [ne'er] the twain shall meet

*hmmm... i dunno. they seem to've done a pretty good job. and maybe i did pop, once upon a time*

2001-06-18T23:35:00.000-07:00

Have you ever actually stopped and listened to some of those songs you all sang as children? Case in point:
All around the mulberry bush
The monkey chased the weasel.
The monkey though 'twas all in fun;
Pop! goes the weasel.
What the hell IS that?!

This has been another incoherent random rant from the mind of Remy, who has nothing better to do with her life than type weird lyrics and savor the feeling of demi-permanent purple dripping onto her neck. It smells like Grape Kool-Aid. We now return you to your scheduled program.

2001-06-18T11:54:00.000-07:00

Isn't it odd how, after I've talked to someone, I no longer have to blog my angst?

WEIRDEST dreams last night... I can place the origins of almost everything in real life, but still... Basically means: be careful with Kitty. Duhhhh....

Gotta make a list of job opportunities - ones that'll still consider me when my hair is purple (as it hopefully will be, tonight). Also need to clean my room and do thank-you notes and such. And I think I'll submit my fic to another site I found. Later!

2001-06-16T16:37:00.000-07:00

So I got lavender streaks and a matching manicure (although as I said to Doti, I could've done a better job myself. Actually, what I *said* was, "That's the worst hand job I've ever had." Oops.). Also liberally availed myself of s'mores - "Give me fire, chocolate, and marshmallows, and I'm THERE!" It was incredible. I just can't believe it's all over. I never have to go back again (though I will, because I said I'd visit. And I'm there for Pops, definitely.).

So that's me, right now. I've got a few days to relax, then work'll kick in. Then off to school at the end of the summer. I'm... ready, I think. Wish me luck!

2001-06-16T16:36:00.000-07:00

I also got a wonderful shoulder massage - I wasn't even all that tense, but just the sensation of someone touching me was really soothing. In fact, I was so relaxed, I stood up from the table and promptly fell into the wall. I got a hug and congratulations from the masseuse, though, and walked around in a state of euphoria (OK, I acted like I was drunk) for the next ten minutes.

The senior memory stuff was cool - my mom did one of me "center stage," in various costumes from shows and parties and such. Turtleboy's parents didn't (big surprise there), and Friday afternoon my mother got a call from the mom of a girl we've both known since elementary school asking whether our family had any we could use. If they'd known earlier, I'm sure The Bun would've done something - she IS his mother, in everyone's eyes. We'd already turned in that one of me and him at my eighth birthday party for the senior wall. I just felt so bad for him - when I think my parents don't care, that's always a reminder.

2001-06-16T16:31:00.000-07:00

Then I headed on to Grad Nite (HUGE party sponsored by the PTSA to keep us off the roads and away from intoxicants). This year's theme was "On a High Wire" - total carnival atmosphere. Everything, from slot machines and blackjack, to a salon and massage stations, to bumper cars and a giant inflatable slide, to a senior museum with our lives in pictures, to magic shows and belly dancers, to an all-night bonfire and s'mores bar on a beach with trucked-in sand. Our town has way too much money, as Red said. But they know how to party.

After the adrenaline from commencement had worn off, however, I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself around someone warm and pliable (there were several preferences here, but only one real option) and go to sleep. I'd been up 'til all hours the morning before, writing that letter to The Bun and washing my hair so it'd be all pretty, not to mention the night before that at the Purr sleepover. So I was beat. I did the next best thing instead - gathered up my reserves, met my friends, partied 'til 3 AM, then crashed in the first aid room where my dad was volunteering. I actually remember all of it, too (no blackout involved, thank God), even though this was a morning (afternoon, really) where you wake up and think, "Did I REALLY get lavender hair extensions last night?" (Yes, btw, and they're awesome.)

2001-06-16T16:02:00.000-07:00

Graduation was awesome. We assembled in classrooms beforehand to get into marching order, and by twist of fate or some administrational string-pulling, because I was scheduled to sing the alma mater and had to be up front, I marched in the 9th group and was in Xena's room. Which means I got hugs and emotional support in great supply.

We walked down the front steps in rows of four, alternating girls and boys. Brown and I were partners, paired with two other random girls, all in white gowns. It was funny, because as I saw later on the videotape of the local broadcast, as we approached the first step, the other three heads went down to watch their feet and I remained perfectly poised, smiling, with my head up, and only I knew that I was mentally counting steps so that I didn't fall on my face. Watching it with me, my mother laughed and made a remark on how I was "always 'on'" in front of the camera. It amuses me that she needs something that blatant to realize the fact.

Actually taking those last steps to be handed my diploma was very odd. Just one of those moments where everything freezes and you aren't quite sure if it's really happening. Then, before you can blink, it does. I walked well when my name was called, blew a kiss to the audience, looked very nice on camera. Love the braces-less smile! Later we (graduating Purr) sang the alma mater and it was decent ("Best it's ever been," said Xena). I was glad because for the past four years I've learned soprano line, and The Bun put me on the alto part for this. Then the class president spoke, and she struggled through the last sentences. People trying to talk seriously while holding back tears always gets me, and I was sobbing for a bit. Then we threw our caps and I was smiling through my tears and shaking and there's our group hug on video and everyone's screaming and then we had to go up to our rooms to get our REAL diplomas. Xena gave me a huge hug and told how she wished I could stay. I introduced her to my little sister, who carried all my stuff downstairs. Then I attempted to fix my dripping mascara and went out to greet my public.

Green was there, of course, and Verdon. Also Kitty, who played "Pomp and Circumstance" with the band. Nongraduating Purr kids, too - but I missed Frump in the crowd. My aunt couldn't make it, 'cause she was taking care of my post-op cousin. Shame, but she sent her regrets through her husband. Pictures with Xena and The Bun and lots of friends. Afterwards, my family and Green went out for sushi. I got mushiness from Green at home. It's been almost daily contact (minus her eighth grade year, but I still saw her occasionally) for 5 years - she's my best friend. We're gonna miss each other so much, but it's worse for her 'cause she's got another year. We've still got most of the summer...

2001-06-16T13:40:00.000-07:00

Hey. Technically my first post as a graduated senior, or college freshman, if you prefer. (Tits! Made it through high school without growing tits! Grr.) More later when I'm more awake (Grad Nite was a blast, but I just woke up) and coherent (my typing skills are severely compromised).

2001-06-15T00:20:00.000-07:00

Goddamnit! So I'm watching my Pops video and in the middle of Webber my dad comes stumbling downstairs, three sheets to the wind, and insists that we watch it together on the big screen in the living room. Grr. Then my mother and sister come home, take up residence on the couch, and proceed to critique. Loudly. Can't a girl have a sobfest in private around here? I mean, they SAW the damn thing live; is it too much to have an hour or two to catch up? Really pisses me off. And this excess of stress is not welcome. Two hours later...

2001-06-14T22:16:00.000-07:00

Well, SOMEbody knows what's going on, at least:
Long Horoscope
for Aries
June 15, 2001
The wonderful content of your mind comes spilling out in words and actions. Heads turn as you pass. If you don't have an effect on your world, you must not be trying at all. Either that or you are fooling yourself. Others are gathering in your wake and they are waiting for even a hint of acknowledgment from you. It seems you have the whole world in your hands, or at least a big chunk of it. Everybody senses this but you. So take a good look at the impact you have on the rest of the world.

2001-06-14T21:59:00.000-07:00

So today was officially my last day of high school. Why am I not more excited?

Saw Bobby's "Compleat Wks. Abridged": decent, but lacking something essential - timing, mostly. Liked what mine and Doti's WOULD have been more.

Then went out to lunch, totally forgot about my doctor's appt. Mom was pissed, but REALLY decent about it. No yelling or lecturing, and I'm grounded this weekend. Can't do the opening meeting of the softball league I signed up for at San Jose Pride. Whatever. Worth it for not having to stop myself from involuntarily flinching at the sound of her voice.

Kitty's fun. Gotta figure that out sometime soon, but still...

Little Rusty, the freshman, wrote me a goodbye letter (Damn!! Gotta do one for The Bun!) in which he stated that "people like you... give homosexuality a better name in this world." I was touched... but I still want to laugh.

Purr sleepover last night... I think I got the most SLEEP out of anyone. Wasn't asked to explain lesbian sex this time, either. We watched the Pops Concert from my 7th grade year, complete with "Letting Go" as a finale. I was SO different... Turtleboy was the cutest little thing, and Xena's daughter-the-dancer was beautiful and poised even then. Wouldn't have recognized Spike... I guess we all change.

And today's choir final was the premiere of the Pops we just did. I look unremarkable as Dorothy in the opening numbers, and "Memory" (::shudder:: Evil song) doesn't sound as good as I would've liked. Funny, I like my alto voice when I'm singing, and then I hear it on tape and it's really icky. I look god-awful in Company (I really needed a different outfit, but c'mon - The Bun said, "All right, everyone bring in a black cocktail dress" like, a week before tech. Ummm... I dunno about you all, but the times I've SEEN a cocktail dress on a person in real life are countable on the hand of a Yakuza hitman.), but the choreography was dead on. Overture, however, was nice, and I like that blue-gray T-shirt of Brown's that I'm eventually gonna have to give back. Jekyll and Hyde was lovely despite the erratic camera pannings. Letting Go was just beautiful, and there's so many close-up shots of The Bun and me and Turtleboy flanking her. Really very nice. I didn't stay to watch awards on video afterwards - i'll have to put it on tonight and see how the flower presentations went.

So, yeah. I'm gonna go watch it again and cry now that I know what's going on and I'm not in a room of 50 choir freaks and I can do that. *Then* I'm gonna wash my hair, maybe eat something, and go to bed. After ironing my dress and graduation gown and typing that letter to The Bun that I promised freshman year.

What am I doing? Where am I going? How am I gonna get there? And all those questions that seem to hit seniors right about... now.

2001-06-13T15:22:00.000-07:00

And I'm spending WAY too much time updating this huge-ass survey that I sent out originally at the end of January. Figure it's time for some new stuff - I *am* graduating Friday. Let me know if you want a copy - some of you have asked already - with the disclaimer that it's probably more than you ever really wanted to know about me.

2001-06-13T14:55:00.000-07:00

OMG. I got Xena to sign my yearbook at the end of 4th period final today, and then I thanked her, closed it without reading, gave her a hug, and left. Halfway to the year's last GSA meeting, I stopped with Twink in another classroom and, while she talked to the teacher, opened my yearbook and read:

"So if I could choose another daughter, I'd choose you. Remember, children come home regularly - I'll be waiting."

And tears just started to fall.

2001-06-13T14:49:00.000-07:00

::giggle:: I came across pictures from the April Birthdays family party (me and my second cousin, who I believe turned 12). Anyway, I brought Green, and in every single picture, it's amazing how she looks more like nothing else than (WEIRD syntax) my dykey girlfriend. I'm in this long flowing purple thing with a denim jacket, and vaguely Native American-looking earrings with dangly silver feathers, and she's in a pair of nice-fitting jeans and a T-shirt and a fresh dye job on the short hair. (The weirdest thing is she's SO much more femme than I!) There's a picture of me cutting the cake (dunno WHY they gave me a sharp object) and her (the consummate hostess) serving. Then me glancing at my cousin's present, and she's leaning against the bar cooler, looking ever so bored. One of me with my arm around her shoulders, laughing into the camera and holding up a curl of purple (Yay!) ribbon.

Gotta wonder how many of my family members think we're a couple. She came to both Thanksgiving and Christmas (with her boyfriend, nonetheless, and we hid out in the back room a lot away from the squalling adults), and since I brought *Peaches* to Thanksgiving the year before... (I don't think I actually introduced her as my girlfriend, but neither does my older cousin Techboy, and people get the idea.) Weirdness. And people at school think she's going out with Red's little bro. Life is odd.

2001-06-12T20:32:00.000-07:00

Wow. Angie Harmon. A tall, leggy brunette with Jodie Foster's voice. Be still, my heart.

2001-06-12T18:55:00.000-07:00

Hehe... Kitty has a blog...

2001-06-12T17:51:00.000-07:00

I saw the most beautiful thing today. A kitten, five days old, hardly bigger than my hand from nose-tip to tail-tip. It had the sweetest high-pitched mewing cry coming from a face the size of a quarter, and claws so tiny I wasn't even sure they were really there. It crawled up my chest and tried to nurse from my neck, then got tangled in my hair, and my mom laughed at the expression of utter joy on my face as I cradled it. Sitting here remembering right now, with the after-shot sticker from the doctor's office and tousled hair flattened to my forehead and rasberry sherbet covering my mouth, I probably look like a six-year-old on the first day of summer.

2001-06-11T17:45:00.000-07:00

Oy. I finished that damn fic. Stayed up 'til three in the morning, revised frantically throughout the day, typed it up in Xena's room until 5. Why do I do this to myself?

2001-06-09T18:18:00.000-07:00

Hey, according to a friend of a friend who's quoting some review somewhere (if I don't have the information, I can't cite it, OK?), Moulin Rouge "could have been edited by a crack-addicted ferret with ADD who just downed a half-dozen Pixie Stix." That was good for a laugh. Better than rabbits in Kansas. ;-P

2001-06-09T10:42:00.000-07:00

Why I can talk for "80 seconds" or, you know, like 10 minutes without stopping:

"Do you ever pause to take a breath?"
"Nope. I'm a sort of breathing camel. I can go for days on one breath."

2001-06-09T10:06:00.000-07:00

Oh dear God, what have I started?

2001-06-08T18:50:00.000-07:00

This is kinda weird. I mean, I get crushes on people all the time (and they are DESPERATE, believe me). And I've had scary people stalk me every now and then. But having a sweet, halfway decent person (female, nonetheless) want me is a new thing. Aaaand... nothing's gonna happen. It just doesn't work right, with graduation and everything. But fun to play with. Yes, that indeed. More on this later...

2001-06-05T23:19:00.000-07:00

Starting a new fanfic. Just a piece of sexless fluff that my brain came up with while idle. Based on that old nursery rhyme about the Queen of Hearts:
The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts all in a summer’s day
The Knave of Hearts, he stole the tarts and took them clean away.
The Queen of Hearts called for the tarts and beat the Knave full sore.
The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts and vowed he’d steal no more.
Remember?

2001-06-05T21:21:00.000-07:00

Mmm. Melissa Etheridge. That woman can SING. And she's got some great material, too.

It’s 1:25 A.M.
I thought that you were headed for the door.
1:25 A.M.
I think I’ve seen that look somewhere before.
Then something touched my skin.
I won’t ask you to leave here anymore.
Come on, come on, come on, over and over.
Come on, come on, come on, we all wanted this
Come on, come on, come on, over and over.
It’s such an unusual kiss.

2001-06-05T14:07:00.000-07:00

You know. LEL's name should really be changed to LOL, because of things like this:

"I'm not sure what frightening, radical, feminist, vegetarian planet you live on, CJ, but yogurt and soy aren't food."

2001-06-05T12:32:00.000-07:00

Ugh. I just slept for 16 hours. I'm really hoping I didn't get the slacker choir boy's germs. He ended up with strep and a 104 temp. Icky. We're hoping it's just a cold. (PLEEEAAAASE! I need to do Senior Beach Day and Baccalaureate and all that fun senior stuff!)

2001-06-03T22:43:00.000-07:00

These are a few of my favorite things:
"The League of American Theatres and Producers has entered into numerous sponsorships that help harness corporate marketing muscle for Broadway's benefit. The latest includes Michelob Light beer, which will sponsor the Broadway Softball League (teams are made up of the casts of Broadway productions), promote theatregoing in national media, and make a generous contribution to Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS (BC/EFA)." Oh Yeah!

2001-06-03T14:54:00.000-07:00

Wow. This is one of the very few times he's told me "no" about something that matters. And, I think, the first when I hadn't done something wrong. I was always bemused by parents who monitored everything from their kid's whereabouts to their reading or viewing material or friendships, 'cause MINE always let me run essentially free. And now here's a block. Luckily, it took them this long. I'm graduating in two weeks and out-of-state (out-of-jurisdiction) in a few months (not that it makes any difference in my maturity level), so it won't matter. Howver, in the meantime, this sucks.