Thursday, September 20, 2001

This is the perfect song to be depressed to, but I'm not sure if I'm depressed just now. I guess I could do's been a while.

"Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew her
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah"

There are a lot of different versions of this song floating around out there, and the lyrics seem to differ extremely greatly, but that verse is in all of them.

Hmmm...apparently I can't even feign depression thing right now. Too caffeinated. I'm gonna bathe, do my homework, then maybe I'll have somethin' somethin' for ya.....

My name is Linda, and I'm going to be clean soon....haha, well, as clean as I can get.......on with it!

Chris, Jeremey, Ben, Nick, and Chad are all 100% right- rules.........and I apparently have very little to say. This, however, can hardly be construed as a problem, being that there is onl another 12 minutes left of this study hall, and then I'll be released back into the real world- beware- and hopefully Ryan and I will be doing something cool shortly. We had plans to take a drive up to standish to visit Jeff, but unfortunately he has, well, no time whatsoever in between classes, meals, and rehearsals. Perhaps if we should feel the desire, we'll go up there anyway and poke around, possibly seeing him for fifteen minutes or so. Long enough to remember what he smells like, anyway. I feel the need to bring him something, however after buying gas, popcorn chicken, sodas, pizza, a homecoming dress and a broken used VCR yesterday with jenn, my funds are fairly limited, and I still hve to pay for gas with Ryan. Getting paid tomorrow, however, as I have less than ten hours this week, I doubt that this is going to help.

7 minutes left- what's my game plan for directly after school? Getting back my confiscated Ani CD from Mr. Leighton, the somewhat pointless two-minute after school talk with Rich Kid, confirming with Floyd that I am, in fact, allowed to go to homecoming, then heading home, eating pizza hut leftovers- my sister had BETTER not have eaten it, I will destroy her- and cleaning my room, and the ferret cage, just enough to satiate my mother's needs before she'll let me go out to god knows where with Ryan. Perhaps Ryan will help me a little with that, she seems to have the insatiable desire to be cleaning things.

4 minutes left.........Funny how disinteresting study halls really are...let's slip into absolutely uncollected stream of consciousness....I miss Nick, I haven't seen him in a really long time. I think he's spending the night this saturday, which will do me good, it's been a while since I've seen any of my lewiston/auburn boys. I miss Ben vaguely, too, but at the risk of giving away too much, its probably better for the both of us that we not get together until....circumstances change. I could explain that further, but I'm not going to. LALALALALALLLAA! Who else do I miss? I miss Chad who is, in actuality, an intelligent, sensitive, eager and benign force in my life.....but he's still an ass. (-Love you anyway, Chad). I miss Chris, the delight it is to lounge on him and get into completely ridiculous arguments about....everything.

2:12, I'm gone. On ith it

Tuesday, September 18, 2001

Linda: sorry, there's some stranger person lurking around in our yard, I had to walk my sister's friend to her car
Jeff: Hopefully he's not in the middle of reading an Arab flight instruction manual.
Linda: I'm going to leave, though
Jeff: I hope it's not because of me.
Linda: I'm only up to talk to you
Linda: I'm not angry at you
Jeff: ...okay.
Linda: I just don't want to be who I am to the rest of the world to you
Linda: you deserve better than the bs I put everyone else through
Linda: and I just can't make the distinction tonight
Jeff: Then I hope you sleep well tonight.
Linda: I hope I sleep at all
Jeff: Heh. That's my nightly mantra.
Linda: great minds.
Linda: I sorta want the guy lurking in our yard to come in and beat me to near death
Jeff: ...Linda....
Linda: say what I'm thinking too often.
Jeff: I'm not upset that you said what you were thinking, I'm upset that you would think it at all.
Linda: I understand that
Linda: but I can't exactly apologize for thinking
Linda: so I apologize for saying it
Linda: I'm sorry
Jeff: I'm not asking you too. I guess I'm just expressing concern.
Jeff: Don't apologize. That would be like me asking you to apologize for who you are.
Linda: nothing better in life than the idea that someone I love as much as I love you would care whether my will is to live or die.
Linda: except turkey bacon
Jeff: And the hairy penis.
Linda: can't forget the hairy penis.
Jeff: Gotta respect tha hairy penis.
Linda: I'm going to sleep babe
Jeff: I'm keeping you. Forgive me.
Jeff: Good night.
Jeff: I love you.
Linda: I love you, too.

And that, friends, is what beauty is.


*The band strikes up the "Ryan is so great!" March and the brasses sing and the drums roll! Hurrah! Hurrah!

And now, the Ryan Rules Dancers!

*boom, ja-wop, boom ja-wop wop, boom ja-wop, boom ja-wop wop!* Watch them go!

:-) Fucking right. I'm good right now.

Aight, now let's get on to more important matters......hahaha! No! Ryan is super cool and nothing is more important! GHEE! I am TREMENDOUSLY pleased right now!

OOOooOOOooOoOoOOOoooN with IT!!!!

Monday, September 17, 2001

See the pyramids along the nile
Watch the sunrise from a tropic isle
Just remember, darling, all the while
You belong to me.

See the market place in old Algiers
Send me photographs and souvenirs
Just remember when a dream appears
You belong to me.

And I'll be so alone without you
Maybe you'll be lonesome too

Fly the ocean in a silver plane
See the jungle when it's wet with rain
Just remember till you're home again
You belong to me.

Emily, Jeff....I love you. Don't forget that.

On with it.

Sunday, September 16, 2001

I think I only continue to post these conversations so I can show off how many friends I have. I'm just that way.

FieryGwenivere: hey you
Mark: hey, what's up girl?
FieryGwenivere: I'm only on for ten more minutes, but I wanted to check on you
Mark: I"m doing pretty well. gotta bitch of a headache right now but that's it
FieryGwenivere: nothing much. sitting here trying to suck tight little pieces of pork from my teeth and reading bukowski
Mark: how are you doing?
FieryGwenivere: been better, been worse
Mark: my offer still stands
FieryGwenivere: I'm good with every reason not to be, which is precarious, but probably better than having every reason to be good and not
FieryGwenivere: ....which one?
Mark: about giving me a call if you ever need to talk and me calling you back
FieryGwenivere: yeah, I'll make sure I do that
FieryGwenivere: I'm pretty okay most of the time
Mark:-phone number (edited out)-
FieryGwenivere: I'll save it
Mark: I worry about you.
FieryGwenivere: I manage.
Mark: what I wouldn't give though to make it so you could more than manage
FieryGwenivere: yes, well, you do every now and again
FieryGwenivere: all of my friends do
FieryGwenivere: but I'm responsible for the time in between
FieryGwenivere: and I like the idea that I'm really the only one who can make my life better, if I should choose to do so
Mark: you're an absolutely beautiful person on so many levels. you always have been.
FieryGwenivere: and I'm an absolutely hideous person on the levels in between, just like everyone else
FieryGwenivere: but, sweetheart, right now I'm an absolutely nauseous person who must go to bed and sleep herself into the next day, whether or not that is really her wish
Mark: we all have a darkened face.
Mark: I need to sleep too. tired as fuck and class at 8
FieryGwenivere: .....we're both screwed then
FieryGwenivere: goodnight dear
Mark: night babe. love you.
FieryGwenivere: I love you too

My name is Linda and I'm damned sick of telling y'all my name. On with it
I don't care who he slept with, Woody Allen is my hero. I just saw Deconstructing Harry, it was so's about this guy who can't function in real life, only through his art. A lot like me. Except that his characters are wildly entertaining, imaginative, and metaphorical and mine are very black and white. I think I should have to watch/read things that Woody Allen wrote until I adopt his kind of insanely out there thought style.

I really should try to watch one of the other two movies I rented that are due back today, either Fargo or the rest of Sabrina (the old version), or maybe I should just return these and pick out three or four more. Something inspirational. I want to write. I want to produce a short story worthy of sustaining my life despite all this bullshit....Emily leaving, Jeff/Elorza/Jeremey being uncomfortably far away, the threat of Andrew moving, being psychologically raped by the Lisbon School Department (again), having to deal with being given 3 different explanations of why Mr. Ladd left within the course of two days, at least two of which would prove that the only trust I ever kept in him- that he had a good reason the whole time- was, once again, a trust I shouldn't have had, my sister's fucking annoying boyfriend moving in, and......god knows what else, but it's unhealthy how much I thrive on piling problem on top of problem in lists like this, and if I don't monitor my health, who will? Oh, wait, Lisbon High and the St. Mary's crisis team, I forgot! How silly of me.

I'm getting really good at this watching movies alone thing. I'm getting very close to the movieland people. Always wanted a gay role model, maybe that's why I'm so anxious to go down there. That and the sorta my-aged guy who works there is the type of person I'd really want to get to know for conversational purposes. I love strangers for having conversations with- people you know so little about and you can get deep or stay superficial according to the mood, and no feelings are hurt through what is said, and guesses and assumptions are so dangerously inconsequential and exciting....fucking love strangers. Not really strangers; semi-strangers. People you don't know anything about except that they can recognize you and you can recognize them.

I should cut my toenails.

"Fascinating new thing
You seem naked
Want a temporary savior?
Fascinatin new thing
Don't betray them
By becoming familiar
I'm surprised
That you've never been told before
That you're lovely
That you're perfect
And that somebody wants you."
Semisonic, FNT

I'm all about art today. Music and movies and, dare I say it, books. I'd be SUCH a good writer if I would just read more, mais helas, I don't have the attention span. I wish they could put me on ritalin or something. I could be an A student, a pulitzer prize-winning novelist, and, hey, maybe even a faithful girlfriend. You never know what medical science will come up with next!

FieryGwenivere: how do you spell rid-a-lyn, the drug?
Nick: ritalin
FieryGwenivere: thank you love

Nick and I don't talk half as often anymore, but he's still perfect. Last night I asked him about barrage, or, as I put it, "buh-rahge". I can just imagine writing college essays, trying for all those twenty-five cent words, Nick will be working harder than I am....I love having smart friends. Though it wouldn't hurt if I found myself some dumb ones, but people like that generally see me as condescending.

....I find that ironic as hell. You're all free to figure that out by yourselves.

At any rate, I'm either going to do some writing that actually counts for something, or I'm going to rent more movies and fade farther and farther into a contented cinematic oblivion.

And, to leave you with some pearls, I will now randomly paste the rest of nick's and my conversation, as I am pretentious and it makes me look educated that I would have a conversation like this casually.

Nick: The word tenebrous rules.
FieryGwenivere: how you do love that word-a-day site!
Nick: *smiles* Aye, that I do!
FieryGwenivere: I prefer tenebrious
FieryGwenivere: flows better
Nick: Touché
Nick: What a capricious rapport with reality do we have!
FieryGwenivere: know, mark twain thought big words were pretentious
Nick: Meh, what could he possibly know? ;-)
FieryGwenivere: nah, they are pretentious in most contexts
FieryGwenivere: but what can I say, I'm a pretentious person
Nick: Alot of them are, but some of the ones I read on the site are far more applicable and understandable than their bretheren.
Nick: For example.
Nick: The word "microcosm" is an excellent word, that in many respects, has a unique application.
FieryGwenivere: ....microcosm, a self-containing world, right?
Nick: But a word like "atelier", which could simply be called a workshop, is very pretentious.
Nick: Correct.
Nick: A self containing world that is comparable to the larger whole.
FieryGwenivere: well, the defense I would have for atelier, or pretentious words on a whole, is that they're sonorous and poetic
FieryGwenivere: the language of a dreamworld
Nick: Excellent point.
Nick: They can help convey a point more effectively, also.
FieryGwenivere: When people use them to sound educated, that's pretentious. When people use them because of the sheer delight that it is to feel them on one's lips or fingertips, that's poetic.
FieryGwenivere: artistic, rather
Nick: You see, you're able to explain this better than I.
FieryGwenivere: the entire french language is based around the idea that speaking should sound beautiful
Nick: And anything done with the express purpose of sounding educated, is pretentious, whether it is word use or not.
FieryGwenivere: they change the rules of their language frequently just so that things flow better
FieryGwenivere: If there is one thing America is lacking, it is not education, it's aesthetic appreciation
Nick: Yes, that is for sure.

See, Harvard, you really WANT Nick, he's smart!

Gone. On with it.
FieryGwenivere: ......that was some good typing
Elorza: wordle
FieryGwenivere: yeah, me and my boy were discussing that tonight
FieryGwenivere: what does "word" actually mean?
Elorza: wordle bonds
Elorza: it's an affirmative response
FieryGwenivere:, like, "yes"?
Elorza: yea

That's for Rich Kid, obviously......well, no, that's not obvious at all, being that I always always always post meaningless snippets of conversation, for instance:

Nick: have fun?
FieryGwenivere: bien sur
Nick: excellente.
Nick: Mangio la vostra anima!!
FieryGwenivere: really?
Nick: Yes.
FieryGwenivere: nice
FieryGwenivere: what language was that?
Nick: Italian
Nick: Roughly translated: "I eat your soul!!"
FieryGwenivere: ......are you really nick, or are you the Elizabeth Dole incarnate???

---Reminder to self: post a inane piece of conversation here later.

So, yeah, Rich kid just left.....fucker brought me Caviar- I SO told him not to do that....gross gross gross. He seems to enjoy it, but right now, the only caviar that has ever been in our refridgerator is sitting there, and I'm sure it will stay that way for INDEFINITE amounts of time.

Good night. Time with him just seems to be at it's best lately. Midway through the evening, things were kinda shaky- I was battling with whether or not, or at least HOW to confess my sins to him, then I got online briefly and went to Emily's site and, being that he was behind me and reads faster than I do, it sorta confessed for me. He forgives me. He deserves a hell of a lot better than me. I wish I had any idea of how to not to do that bullshit....but Em's gone now, far fucking away, and I'm a lot better at not cheating on him with males than I am at not cheating on him with her.

I do love him. Implicitly. I just never was a very good person.

Red wine tonight- the darker kind- along with the Caviar. I'm --very slowly-- getting used to the taste of my dealcoholized delights. One day, perhaps, I will be able to understand why they're so immensely popular, if not because the suffering of tasting it reminds one to be aware of how rich-blooded they are, how affluent in their joie de vie and economics. It is impossible, for me at least, to drink these nectars without thinking, very seriously, of why I'm drinking it, and that thought process in itself evokes feelings of elitism. Perhaps it's because of my means of getting them- gifts from a man who loves me, who thinks I'm beautiful, who wants me to acquire a taste for caviar and wine.....
Yes, I think perhaps I will. The wine, anyway. (caviar....ilch)

Called Jeff three times today- thanks to the phone card Mr. Leighton, the coolest librarian alive, gave me, but he wasn't there, which makes me think that MAYBE he's home....which does one of two things for me: excites me that I may see him tomorrow, or pisses me off that he didn't tell me he was coming and I won't get to. Not that I really have any right to be pissed- he has a multitude of friends that must barrage at him whenever he comes home.....I'm working pretty damn hard on vocab tonight, can you tell?

Fuck it, I am way to tired to go into detail about all the many, many things I have accumulated since last time I bothered with an entry....I'm going to bed y'aalllllllllllllllllllllllllllll......enough l's for you? Heh, pluralized "l".

Deathy- Adj.- Of, or relating to, death. As in "Yeah, that poem was very deathy." (something Linda said to Chris, the crisis counselor. And he STILL thought I was the most intelligent 17-year-old he'd ever met....poor guy.)

My name's Linda and I'm SO GONE. On with it.