Saturday, August 18, 2001

Em, are you shitting me? Which song? Holy fuck..........Now I resent Elorza that Ani was in his town.....ler! Elorza, why the hell didn't you tell me??!?!?!?! (as if he knew)

Hahahahaha, Rich Kid didn't know Etheridge was gay. Let's all point and laugh!

Uhm.....not much going on right now. Well, Rich Kid's here, and I'm ignoring him to update this, but we can't disappoint my fans.

Also, Ben's back- Hey, Ben!

Emily's getting more and more into Ani, and she's not giving me enough credit! Granted, she knew who she was before I did, but she didn't love her like I did. And, hey, everyone- Em knew EVERYTHING by Joan Arm-and-hammer (or whatever) before the movie Ten Things I Hate About You released "The Weakness in Me", or as I like to call it "I ain't the kinda gal to fall real quick in and out of loooooove, but I done gave you my affection in the beginnin'"

Which reminds me, I reeeeeallly want to be listening to Em's tape right now....wonder if....that guy who's here will mind. What was your name again?

Rich Kid, he says reluctantly. Ah, yes.

Uhm......I better go, he's getting all pissy and what not. But, hey, you- fucking e-mail me! I never get personal e-mail.

"Well stop
I don't want to thank you
Honey I don't think so
You'd better stop
And try
If there's a distance here between us
Then it's you & I, & I & I & I...."

My name is Linda, and I love Matchbox Twenty more than life......on with it!
Where else but cosmo magazine and other backward-thinking woman's favorites does literature include not only perfume samples, but now, samples of lipstick, eye shadow and blush! Pretty soon, designers will be paying to have barbie-sized samples of their clothing in this things.....and I love it!

My name is Linda and I am a cosmo girl (when I'm not a Maxim Man!) On with it!
Fucking ay, I updated this, I lost my blog or something! damn it! Damn it to hell!!!

Aight, remind me to talk later about how elorza's possibly checking my site fuckign astounds me, and my resentment towards change, and I think there was also some Mr. Ladd resenment in there...yeah....I'll rewrite it tomorrow. I'm tired as hell.

OH, and running shoes. Running shoes and my new life. Still, tired as hell.

My name is Linda and I'm going to go to bed. On with it!

Friday, August 17, 2001

As of 1:30 est, the most recently updated blog online was something called "Ihatetomatoes".
I have to start checking out other people's blogs, and hope that they will check out mine.

Soon I'm gonna start up a team blog, that is, one where anyone with an account can post, for all my friends. So that I can have a happy little log of all my friend's blather in the general direction of each other.

Mais helas, I must go now....getting ready for yet another 4 hour shift at the Dairy Iron Maiden, or whatever that place is called. At least it's pay day- I can do cool stuff now. Hurrah.

"I heard you crying loud
*Mumbles incoherently for a long ass-time*
As you sit around feeling sorry for yourself
Well don't get lonely now."
-Green Day, When I come around.
Think I'd really like this song if I knew the lyrics.

My name is Linda, and I am wearing pink socks. On with it.

Wrote that all out, then I put all my mp3's on random play in hopes that fate would be good to me and give me some nice songs to wallow in. I threw myself face down on the bed and rioted against the air around me, the sheets, all of existence with my body, my quicked breath. At the end of "this can't be love", which I picked myself to get it started, I drew in a quick breath and waited for chance to back me up with a ballad of flawed love and painful desire, and all of things that make life so totally horrible. And fate answered with:

"Alright, Chipmunks? Ready to sing you're song?"
"I'll say we are!"
"Yeah, let's sing it now!"
"Okay Simon?"
"Okay Theodore?"
"Okay Alvin? Alvin?.......ALVIN?"
"Christmas, christmas time is here...."

Ah shit. It's so impossible to really really hate life when shit like that happens.....god, I love irony. :-)

But fuck the rest of you. >:{ Seriously.

My name is Linda and I am not happy at all. On with it.
Why not?
Why bother?
Why care?
Why love?
Why am I not good enough?
Why can't I just feel right?
Why can't I just feel loved?
Why don't I understand?
Why don't they understand?
Why don't they try harder?
Why don't I run faster, jump higher, act better?
Why does it feel like this?
Why do I feel at all?
Why do I want to die?
Why don't I deserve the desire to live?
Why is it I got stuck with feeling this way all the fucking time?
Why aren't my friends saving me?
Why aren't my parents saving me?
Why won't I let them?
Why can't I do anything right?
Why can't I write anymore?
Why am I not allowed to just KILL HER?
Why do I know that that wouldn't help anything?
Why do I want to edit that?
Why don't I want him to know?
Why do I bother?
Why do I bother?
Why do I bother?
Why aren't you telling me why I bother?
Why aren't you helping me?
Why did you leave?
Why are you leaving?
Why did I push you away?
Why is Nick so perfect?
Why isn't Jeff/Emily/Chris/somebody here to hold me and tell me it's all going to be alright?
Why don't I believe that it's all going to be alright?
Why isn't it going to all be alright?
Why do I have this sudden sensation to be being comforted by james?
Why do I desperately need to be comforted by anybody?
Why do I need?
Why isn't I haven't stuck to my goal of not needing anyone, ever again?
Why don't I own a teddy bear?
Why did I write that as if I don't own a teddy bear?
Why isn't....SOMEONE fucking taking care of me?
Why can't someone recognize that I take care of them?
Why do I have to face the bed alone tonight?
Why am I going to have to go to sleep with images in my mind that will force my eyes open every time I try to shut them?
Why me?
Why not?
Why anyone?
Why is everything temporal?
Why does it all go so fast?
Why am I using words like temporal?
Why will I not just give in and stop writing the word "why"?
Why is no one listening?
Why is no one answering?


why the fuck.....just Why?

My fucking name is Linda, and I do not know, or believe in, anything. On with it.


Em and I spent some time out on the street, laying down on the pavement tonight...came in about 5 minutes ago actually. It was nice. We hadn't done it in a while. After the summer ended it got so depressing in the winter when it would get to cold to hang out there....after this summer ends, Em will be in boston. And even when I visit her, where the hell will we find any road as empty as our sleepy little south street in Boston? She'll have to come up to gloucester with grandmother lives on a dead end. At the end of the dead end is this beautiful view of the river and the bridges, and it's so indescribably gorgeous.

Which seems to have alerted myself to the fact that I MISS JEFF. It was the first thing I showed him when we arrived in gloucester at the beginning of this summer for the St. Peter's Fiesta, and his response was as filled placid reverence and overt impact as I could ever desire anyone's response be.

The rest of the weekend was....wonderful, probably more than I can express. I'm not used to spending that amount of time with someone at all, let alone doing it without getting sick of them. *Thinks to the rest of the fab five* With the possible exception of Elorza, I don't think I could spend 4 and a half days with any of them other than jeff without severely hurting one of us. Then again, I did sort of severely hurt jeff....but that was all in good fun. Right, Jeff? Don't you give me that face.

Hey mister, she's my sister!

Yeah, those of you who haven't taken advice I may or may not have actually posted and downloaded "La Vie Boheme" have NO IDEA what I'm talking about...which is probably pretty much all of you. Not that there are so many....even Jeff, who has been mentioned probably more than the lot of ya, doesn't know this page exists.

Or has em been mentioned more? I dunno...hi, em!

Ler....think I may be ending this now. I've some things. (Looks around nervously)


My name is Linda, and I have no idea why I just laughed maliciously. On with it!

Thursday, August 16, 2001

"It's been a hard day's night
I have been workin' like a dog
It's been a hard day's night
I should be sleepin' like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
Make me feel alright...."

*Ahem* Yeah, I don't have anyone to come home to that makes me feel alright. Recently, comparitively few people have made me feel good at all. And if you've noticed the trend that this blog page seems to be one giant bitch session, I gots some advice for ya: get used to it or get out.

I'm sure it won't ALL be like this.......eventually, I'll have something of substance to say.

I'm going to take a walk to kitty korner name is Linda, and I want chocolate. On with it!
My name is Linda and I'm just putting up this post to fix something that ain't working. On with it!
Em has informed me that you can't actually lose anything on imood, which leads me through a complicated maze of conclusions that she, indeed, checked my blog page. Way to go Emily.

I haven't so much as wiped the sleepies from my eyes and I'm already updating this damned thing. This is how desperate I am to convey my essence to the (comparitively small) masses. I am, yes, that's right, a pathetic loser.

I miss Mr. Leighton, it would seem. Almost enough to want to be back in school. But what I really want, more than anything, I think, is for my brand-spankin'-new poetry teacher next year to be a guy. Who is impressed by my well of poetic knowledge.

What's that, freud? You think Linda is hunting for a new father figure? Nonsense! I only do that, oh, every time I leave the house.

My sister and I have made a pact to combine our efforts to either salvage our relationship with our father or, at the very least, yell at him until he understands some tiny bit of what he's done to us. Next time one of us gets into a fight with him we're going to tag team him. We stayed up till 4 am one night a couple weeks ago talking about it...about everything. I read to her this song that I wrote about him...just the lyrics, I was going to send it to maggie (em's cousin) to write the music, misc. But I really need to polish it, it's still first draft-y.

Heh, I checked the definition of polish to make sure I didn't get the spelling mixed up with "the state of being a Pole....or whoever the fuck you spell one who is from poland." and it's technical definition, or the first couple words of the technical definition, was "to make smooth and shiny."
That amuses me.

My mom is downstairs very loudly telling an obscenely unamusing story about being afraid of a sound in a forest, and laughing as she does it. My mom laughs at really dumb things.

Okay, I have to work in less than two hours, so I'm gonna go now.

My name is Linda and I have a screwed-up family. On with it!

"God"'s gift to....anything sighted. And my boy is trying to convince me I'm as attractive as her.
And the graph of Rich Kid's credibility just took (yet another) steep decline.

I don't even WANT to be as beautiful as her! I wouldn't be able to handle it! I'd become autosexual in a heart beat, and then I'd never care to listen to another man (or woman) lying about how pretty I am.

Fucking gorgeous picture my sister took of me, though. Best one I've ever seen of me. And yes, I'm aware, neither of those were actual sentences. Screw you for your criticism!

You wouldn't GIVE a fuck if Sophia Vergara had poor english skills. (which she probably does, being that she's spanish....make that "latin-american")

I wonder at exactly what point I turned THIS profane. (make that "THIS fucking profane.")

My head is throbbing....either from stress, overexhaustion, or looking at that flawless-ity (play on "felicity", and a bad one at that!) for too long. Which reminds me of a sonnet:

"When I too long have looked upon your face,
Wherein for me a brightness unobscured
Save by the mists of brightness has its place,
And terrible beauty not to be endured,
I turn away reluctant from your light,
And stand irresolute, a mind undone,
A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight
From having looked too long upon the sun.
Then is my daily life a narrow room
In which a little while, uncertainly,
Surrounded by impenetrable gloom,
Among familiar things grown strange to me
Making my way, I pause, and feel, and hark,
Till I become accustomed to the dark."

Edna St. Vincent Millay.

It was that poem for which I first fell in love with the woman, and that poem for which I borrowed a book of her poetry from a certain Mr. Ladd, who then left our school, and my, thereafter, doomed little life forever. I still have it, but seldom look at it as now I own a vollume with her entire poetic works.....I needed this, of course, because I could no longer stand the idea of borrowing a book of her work from anyone, lest they might leave me, forever. I remember, distinctly, reading one of floyd's millay books when she offered to let me borrow it, at which point I freaked out. Not entirely pleasant.

Buying a fish with Mark tonight, I saw this beautiful dog in the kennel shop and missed my dog so much that I could barely keep it together. (just then I wrote "kennel shot" accidentally, how's THAT for freudian?) I'm thinking I'm only going to get my associates degree simply so I can move out of dorms as quickly as possible and get a dog. I need a dog to be complete. I need the way that I loved her, almost as thoughtfully and unselfishly as she loved me, doing things for her, little considerate things, that I haven't done for anyone sense.

One day I will, feeling quite altruistic, bring one of the fab five members home a Rawhide. And they will look at me funny.

My name is Linda, and I miss my puppy. On with it.

Wednesday, August 15, 2001

I really should be covering my ass with the imood thing right now....the second you-know-who checks it, if he/she will, I've got a shitload of "issues" that will need to be discussed, to no end, and to no avail- there's nothing he/she can do about it. It's, no that's not even it.

It's completely fucking rational that I should feel like that about it. But I don't want him/her to try to fucking deal about it. Lies. That's all it could be.

Unfortunately, iMood only keeps the last five entries, and if I change my imood now, I'll lose my big-ass ode de jeff or whatever...long fucking thing I wrote to/for/about jeff that I was actually pretty contented with at the time....I'm not sure I saved it. I must have, though. But even if I did, Jeff won't have the oppurtunity to break into my account and read it.....if he ever woulda. Point being....did I have a point? Perhaps I should just post in on here.

The real problem, though, is most likely this: I'm a female, and therefore what I want more than to cover my ass and the ass of my relationship with him/her is to communicate the shit that I KNOW I SHOULDN'T.

Fuck it, estrogen sucks. I'm going to do the male thing.

My name is Linda, and I'd rather be a guy. On with it!
Chris checked my page!

And this is why he's so cool he deserves to be in the fab five.....making it the stupendous sensational six.

Except that if I add Chris I'd have to add Nick, and then it would just get messy because I'd have to keep adding people, blah blah blah.

Chris and Nick are on the level directly below the fab five.....but, honestly, they're pretty much better people than the fab five, anyway.....I can't think of any faults whatsoever with Nick, and Chris is....good, too. :-p

This, come to think of it, is probably why they aren't fab five. I only really like people who are consistently bastards to me.

My name is Linda, and I am a masochist. On with it!
Supposed to work at 6:30 tonight, which sucked enough as it is because I HATE closing- normally I work 2:30-5, but my co-worker, lindsay, has reportedly decided that she no longer cares for the idea of working, according to my co-worker Nicole, and thus has taken to making up such excuses as "I have a kidney stone" and my manager has had to adjust accordingly. However, a second co-worker is now in the emergency room, so I must now open instead, which I have never done......six hours of sleep last night, and now I'll most likely have a four hour shift, if not longer--- and I sound like such a pussy complaining about a tiny little four hours, but I'm just not used to it, okay! And I have to do the whole thing standing up!

My name is Linda, and I really don't like my job. On with it!
Aight.....let's hope I don't get really really pathetic and do more than three of these in one night.
Who thinks I will?
*counts votes*
Damn. Gotta prove all you non-believers wrong, then.

I need slippers.

I am now wearing my father's slippers, but they are not as emotionally and physically satiating as mine, which I stole from my sister....well, technically she gave them to me, but she only did this because I wore them so much that they were all crudded up by my feet do that to nice fuzzy slippers. The way my feet treat slippers should be a metaphor for the way I treat people...that's thinking too hard.

Jeff sure could use something like this for his personal website, Jeff's domain, because maybe if he had something like it he'd, oh, I dunno, UPDATE IT. Please visit his site and sign the guestbook in a harassing-him-to way.

My legs are daaaamned sore, and I don't know why. Did I stand up today more than normal? I might have. All that shopping with Jenn. I still spell her name with two N's, despite the fact that she switched over to the one N way.
You will always be (a) double-N Jenn to me, Jenn! I don't care what the tabloids say!

This is coming out sort of like Em's website, an Emilian world, which is just her online diary....sorta like this, but...well, mine's a blog thing, so it's cooler. But, hey, there must be SOMEONE out there interested in every little thing I got to say, and probably a few others who will skim for their name, the way I do with Em's diary. And those surveys people send me.........if all my friends were constantly saying things about me in a public way, I'd feel....consistently validated.

.......*Linda is trying to decide whether to not tell everybody about this page, to not bitch about people I don't want to hear me bitching about them, or to just adopt a very much "fuck it" frame of mind and say "yo, if you're going to get offended, get out.". Linda is now pretty much deciding on the latter....*

Yo, if you're going to get offended, get out!

Let's do this as quickly as possible, starting with the fab five:

Elorza's a scared-ass wimp who can't be a consistently good person for more than a few weeks at a time.
Emily THINKS she doesn't act like a bitch but that's what makes her act like more of a bitch than anything: self-righteousness....though she'd never know that about herself because- most of the time- she says the worse shit she can about herself out of either insecurity, a back-up plan, or a blatant lie.
Andrew/Rich Kid lies about EVERYTHING THERE IS making it pretty much impossible to trust him, and cannot let ANYTHING just go, he MUST explore every little problem to the bitter end. "What's that? Linda? You have a HANGNAIL??? Is it MY fault? Do you want to talk about it? Are you sure? I'm here for you! I can't understand why you won't talk to me, it frustrates me when you shut me out! Why can't we just be like we used to be....."
Jeremey- heh, like I need to point it out. The most self-centered pussy on the face of the earth- Gets off on bitching about his problems to the point where he won't even TRY to solve them.
Jeff is spoiled, obliviously inconsiderate and the most stereotypical only child I've ever met. And balding at the tender age of twenty.

Those five, right there, are the BEST PEOPLE I KNOW and I love them more than anyone on earth, family included. I would give my life for any one of them at any time and that tells you right there why you should take anything I say with a grain of salt.

No one's perfect and I gotta speak the truth...well, I don't gotta, but come on, it's me.

I'll be sure to insult and belittle some people later, but those are the ones where my relationships just might come out in, saying shit about them's a challenge, so I did it first.

To the fab five: Yo! If you're gonna get offended, get out. You fucking know I love you.....I needed to make examples of y'all.

My name is Linda, and my new blog site MUST have Harriet-the-spy-like integrity! On with it!
now to figure out how to make the hyperlink thingy work....aha ha! There we go! *Linda Looks Satisfied.* Okay, that right there was a link to my page, and so was that!

At this time, I have nothing further to say, so you should go check out my page an' all that....

My name is Linda, and my favorite food is turkey bacon. On with it!
Well then....

Hello and welcome to Suede's Blog page....
Apparently this is just a thing where I can say whatever the fuck I want and make it come out really fast. I'll try to update this all the time and make it as fun and exciting as my page and my newsletter, which I have, as of yet, no hyperlink to, but will soon....yeah....
I may have very well screwed up the html just now....but I don't know what I'm doing, and neither should you! So if you do....well, get out from under the bed with your hands up! I have a gun!*

*no, I don't.

Okay, so, to introduce myself:
My name is Linda and I am NOT an alcoholic.

I'll try to include something like that whenever I update.....

Okay, well, I want to see how this worked out, so...yes...on with it!