Saturday, January 05, 2002

I miss knowing that people are thinking about me. For a while, I got quite a dose of that between Emily's journal and Ben's and Nick's blogs. But Emily doesn't seem to update as much at all anymore and Ben and Nick have taken to wriitng more thoughtful things, on top of which I've managed to somehow grow farther away from the both of them simultaneously. More Nick than Ben, but both to an extent. I blame this on myself automatically, despite the fact that Nick says things have been weird for him lately. Either way.

People who I assume think about me don't have blogs or journals or anything that lets me know that they are for sure, and while I long for the publicity of having my name mentioned in profiles or on websites, what I really need is the reassurance. People don't take time to send me "I'm thinking about you" e-mails anymore, not aside from Jeff, probably because I don't really respond to them. I send them from time to time, I think, but I think that they should be something one send's without any need for a response to be given. As a gift, more or less.

I've just checked my "Mail you've sent" folder to check and see if I do, in fact, send e-mails like that, and I found one I wrote to Jeff not long ago about a pen. I loved the pen, it delighted me, and I wanted to enhance the pleasure of one simple joy by combining it with the pleasure of another. So I wrote him. Any reminder of him is pleasurable....when I don't have to think about him in the context of my failure to be good enough for him.

I haven't masturbated in weeks. This has been due largely to depression and stress. In my bold attempt to beat both of them back, I will go do that now!

Yes, you needed to know.

On with it!
Andrew's chairing the "cheer-up Linda" department today. I was just about to copy and paste part of our conversation, but, yeah, it's all making references to things that would either be non-tactful to post, or -get this- private. Either way, though, I have decided to mention him because he seems to be the type who only checks sites that pertain to him in some way. He and I are WAY too alike in certain ways.

Ugh, I gotta walk to Lisbon House for dinner. Perhaps I can hitchhike.....on with it.

Mark came over to deliver a present he got me just because it's been roughly three years since we became friends and because he's wonderful, and more to the point he seems to think I'm wonderful, and when I'm with him I'm inclined to agree. We ended up doing very little other than my playing around with baking soda and vinegar, and he just left.

I have rentals I really want to watch and a room to clean, but I think I'd really like to go out. Someone claim me!

Only 5 hits to the site since last night and 2 of them were me....I'd like to think this is probably because my site was down, but really- how likely is that?

I'm falling out of the public's favor!

The word "favor"- specifically being in it and out of it, seems to be my word of the last couple of days. I used it just now, yesterday in an e-mail to Mitch, and just now, in a conversation I had with Jeff's friend, Mike the German, in order to ascertain the screename of Roy (I'm still not sure if that's the name I'm looking for). I'm clearly antsy this weekend- I've been overreacting to people about things since yesterday night, but man- there's really no question as to why Jeff's friends, and pretty much anyone else, don't like me.

Mike the German: and you saw him at wal mart
FieryGwenivere: yeah, I think so. But I wasn't absolutely positive it was him, so it's driving me nuts
Mike the German: he told me that he was at walmart and that he met Ryan Hawkes there, so maybe you were there too
FieryGwenivere: when was he at wal*mart?
Mike the German: dunno
FieryGwenivere: when did you talk to him?
Mike the German: two days ago
FieryGwenivere: nah, can't be the same thing
FieryGwenivere: this was last night at like midnight.
Mike the German: oh ok
Mike the German: I bet you are obssessed with him
FieryGwenivere: am I that transparent?
Mike the German: yes
FieryGwenivere: you can see right through me, man, you know my every want and desire
Mike the German: but, you won't have a chance with him - you're not his kinda girl
FieryGwenivere: *sob*
FieryGwenivere: well, I guess I'm just going to have to kill myself now- I mean, ever since I met him- the ONE time- I fell so desperately in love with him that I dedicated my entire life to achieving the goal of getting into his favor. I've been using Jeff for no other reason to get to him- this person who's name I'm not even positive is Roy.
FieryGwenivere: I tell you, every time Jeff tells me one of his catch phrases it makes my heart soar.
FieryGwenivere: Seeing him in Wal*Mart last night was like a dream come true.
FieryGwenivere: I had six orgasms, right there.
Mike the German: ok baby, I gotta go
FieryGwenivere: There was some MAJOR clean up needed in aisle 6.
FieryGwenivere: Oh, not you too! Can't you tell I'm in love with you, too? *sob!*
FieryGwenivere: later.
Mike the German: I got some important stuff to do, see ya
Mike the German: you're fucking crazy
FieryGwenivere: I know it.
Mike the German: you shoul get some major sence in your life and set some priorities
FieryGwenivere: haha, thanks for that
Mike the German: work out
FieryGwenivere: it's like therapy without the high rates! I feel so spiritually cleansed.
FieryGwenivere: You're right, I need to do that...weren't you leaving?
Mike the German: sorry
FieryGwenivere: I forgive you.
Mike the German signed off at 5:14:37 PM.

Me and my adventures with sarcasm.

"And I guess that's why they call it the blues
Time on my hands
could be times spent with you
Laughing like children
Living like lovers
Rolling like thunder
Under the covers-
And I guess that's why they call it the blues."

Music du moment. Appropriez-vous, non?

That is SUPPOSED to say "Appropriate, no?" in French. I asked smarterchild to translate for me. Then I checked on alta vista and "Appropriez-vous" apparently means "do you adapt?". So I tried using alta vista to look up just appropriate, which it translated to "approprié". I double checked that by translating it back into english and it meant "adapted"- I can see the connection, sorta, but if anyone who checked my site tried to translate it, they'd be left entirely befuddled. So, working smarter, not harder (something I've picked up from dilbert), I decided to try translate "Fitting" which, came out as "raccord". And upon double checking "raccord", I got the word "connection". I've just now tried "It fits, no?" which goes from "Il ajustements, non?" back to "It adjustments, not?".

On a whim to see how much the translation could screw up what I was trying to say, I decided to use a long sentence instead: "The music is justified by my current situation, right?". Ironically, while the bitch of a site couldn't get "appropriate" right, the only thing it screwed up was to mix up "right" meaning "not wrong" with "right" meaning "not left", which I quickly remedied by taking it off altogether and putting the actual way to say right- as in "not wrong"- in french at the end...stupid alta vista.

So, let's try this again:

Music du moment. La musique est justifiée par mon actuelle situation, n'est-ce pas?

Or, in german (For the sake of Mike, who would never check this site):

Music des Momentes. Die Musik ist durch meine aktuelle Lage gerechtfertigt, nicht ist es?

I've spent WAAAAAAY too long on that.

As a woman, I'm hesitant to talk about the thought I've just now had, being that the train of thought and actions surrounding it would be inappropriate to explain, and something much more suited to a male, and not explaining it would leave you, my readers, with the freedom and the curiousity to infer what you will about the train of thought and actions surrounding it. However, as someone who tries her hardest to NOT act like a woman, I am rather compelled to discuss it and be done with it- this whole banterous section right here (she says, wondering if banterous is a word) is something that would have been very well-suited to my newsletter, which has gone unwritten for far too long, and whihc I'm rather interested in starting again, if I ever stop wasting my time on this bullshit site. Point being, the thought: If mankind was ever to produce a person who could fully digest corn, we would have to give them a medal of some sort, and probably do an indepth study of them.

That thought, which happened while I was downstairs just now, was quickly followed by my thinking about a charming insult for a math teacher I came up with earlier today, which was followed up by a slight adaptation of the insult to turn it into an idea for a wonderful farce- to write a letter to the Field's medal nominations commitee nominating myself for my incredible mathematical accomplishment of learning the entire Algebra 2 class- enough to pass the final anyway- in just three weeks of summer school.

At first I was thinking that this could just be one of me and Ben's little projects- whenever we go to pizza hut we make an effort to write a letter to send to the White House in the crayons they give you while you're waiting for your food on the back of our place mats, but we've yet to finish one.

But this could be so much bigger- think of it! Me and all of my friends and readers could barrage the nominations commitee with letters for months, until the Field's Medal people reacted, and there was media coverage, and they interviewed us all, and we made Lisbon High School look really bad. And it, and the pretentious math bastards, became the laughing stock of the nation, and I appeared on the tonight show, and Jay Leno (or whoever it is on the tonight show) gave me a special trophy that said "Linda H, For the Great Accomplishment of Keeping the Pretentious Math Bastards on Their Toes". And then I could use it to bludgeon to death Mr.- oh, 86tch that last part.

And now the amusing thing is that I bet there are a whole bunch of you trying to figure out what "Mr." I want to kill, as if I really had an ending to that sentence. Losers!

Ben and I are now discussing whether or not it would be possible for me to adapt this to a newsletter, and whether or not it's worth it. Probably not at all, no, but I hate the idea that there are so few of you who will ever read that. There are currently 38 people subscribed to the long-dead newsletter, though admittedly far less than that probably ever read the whole thing. Still, by now I could force subscriptions on at least 3 or 4 more people. Possible five.

And that makes me happy, because it's been too long since I've produced any, *ahem*, quality writing. So that is my plan for....well, sometime soon- to once again launch Linda's Titleless Newsletter. And to pawn it onto some more people.

I may or may not revisit this subject matter in this- hopefulyl not, my peeked artistic integrity prevents me from overusing things, but until then- those of you who have not yet subscribed to my newsletter may do so by e-mailing me at or by visiting my other website and signing up there.

"Là-dessus avec!"
"Auf mit ihm!"
And On with it!
The later you wake up, the later in the day you have absolutely nothing to write about.

Though I woke up almost an hour ago, that's pretty early for me. On a saturday, anyway.

Serena sent me some sort of lesbian story I should read, because she wouldn't have sent it if it weren't gay-tastic, but I'm not in the mood right now.

Sitting in front of the TV, as I pretty much always do, during breakfast, I couldn't figure out what I was in the mood to watch and ended up actually getting interested in "the top half of the TV guide channel" for just slightly too long. After my stereotypical breakfast of turkey bacon and cereal, I couldn't figure out what else I was in the mood to eat, though I knew I was still hungry. I don't think there's anything online I'm in the mood to do- except feed my neopet, who I'm just now remembering I have neglected for....probably about four or five days now and is most likely starving to death. And straining to think of my options of who to possibly hang out with today, I can't think of anyone, that I could conceivably see, that I'm in the mood to spend time with.

You know what I'm in the mood for right now? To have a dog. Right now I want Duchess, or any other dog really, so I could sit on a bed or a couch or the floor next to her/him and pet her (/him).

Hmmmm, Mark has just called and asked to come over. That'll do.

On with it.
In order to escape the impending doom of sitting at home and feeling all the sea of emotions I have to feel tonight, I decided to take advantage of the type of emotional support that women are supposedly good at and have a girl's night out with Jenn. I stole some passes to Hoyts my mom had laying around and we went to see Kate and Leopold, the new Meg Ryan movie.

To spare the details, the movie was amazing. And I found myself staring up at this beautiful fairy tale romance story wondering how it was possible that I allowed myself to make such a mistake in life that I ostracized myself, if only for a night, from the person, the prince- to be sickly clichéd- who takes my life and transforms it into a living fairy tale. A paperback romance novel to be read aloud in our own, beautifully realisitc voices, a pair of Vettriano dancers in our own subtle skintones.

I don't ever want to not be in love with him. I don't ever want to forego the right to touch him in a way that only I can, not even for a night. I won't see him for a while, between scheduling and the fact that the ball is in his court now, and I feel rather like a prisoner.

After the movie I wanted to spend the night reliving the constant, unchanging notion that he is the Leopold to my Kate, and I insisted that Jenn rush me to the 24 hour Wal*Mart, where I fully intended to purchase the soundtrack- at the expense of one of my kidneys, if nessecary. I needed it.

Sometimes, no matter how much you need something, you can't make it happen. While I'm sure I could have found many a scalpel to perform the surgery with, Wal*Mart does NOT happen to have the Kate and Leopold Soundtrack in stock. Checking now, this seems to be because it won't be released until the 15th, when I probably will be short of both the money and the passion to buy it. But right now, I want nothing more than to be able to sleep the night listening to that soundtrack- the song at the end of the movie I couldn't find the nerve to ask Jenn to sit around for and Moon River from Breakfast at Tiffany's and whatever else would be on it.

No, no- not true. I want to be able to make this all better, for him and for me and, hell, for the other party involved. And I want to be able to sleep in Jeff's arms tonight and wake up with his breath on my neck tomorrow morning. I want to have the faith in myself that I will never endanger my right to any of those things....or at least to the dreams of those things, ever again.

I have never gone into the Super Wal*Mart without seeing someone I know, and I'm 90% sure that I didn't tonight, because I saw someone there that I'm 80% sure was Jeff's friend, Roy (assuming I haven't gotten names mixed up again...I never USED to do that), and if it wasn't him I MUST know him from somewhere else. Jenn saw Tom Burgess, anyway, so I suppose if I come to find it wasn't Roy, I could PRETEND that I saw Tom Burgess, as well. Though I'm rather angry she didn't make some sort of effort to point him out.

When I'm trying to decide if I know someone or not, I'm very very blatant about it. In the case of spotting Roy (?), I stopped suddenly and just stared at him with my mouth hanging somewhat open and my neck cocked to the side, and when Jenn noticed what I was doing she came up to me, grabbed my arm and scolded me. I must have looked like a fucking idiot- I was overtired, and emotionally exhausted- we both sort of were. When we were driving home I couldn't think of the word "eyelids" and I'm sitting there and I'm like "The, the, the eye cover. The eye flap. What the hell is that?"

Jenn: "The skin over your eye?"
Linda: "Yeah, does that have a name?"
Jenn: "No! There's the eye lash and the eye brow...."
Linda: "And the eye...lid!"
Jenn: "Oh....yeah."

At which point she laughed so hard she put her head down on the steering wheel. It didn't occur to me to fear for my life, but in retrospect, yeah- sorta lucky I'm still here.

It's really too bad that conversations between me and Jenn can't be saved and catalogued, because they're always precious. I'm very comfortable with Jenn, so I'm at my peek in wittiness.....especially when I'm so sharp I can't come up with the word "eyelid".

This brings me to the point that she had saved every note I had written her since the eighth grade, a whole shoebox full, and just a few months ago, in our senior year, she through the whole damn thing away! I cannot even TELL you how much that bothers me! Notes, especially legible ones that haven't been crushed and teared and had things spilled on them, are to be saved! Does no one see this? I thought that was inherant knowledge in everyone with estrogen!

My stomach is killing me and I ache for the bed to my right....the sweet sound of the version of Moon River I downloaded to satiate myself- Johnny Mathis because I remember Greg recommending him (I think) is lulling me into even more of a sleepy, peaceful, if heart-hurting and forlorn (did I just say "forlorn"????) state than I was earlier.

"Oh dream maker
You heart-breaker
Wherever you're goin'
I'm goin' your way
Two drifters off to see the world
There's such a lot of world to see-
We're after the same rainbows
And waiting round the bend
My Huckleberry friend,
Moon River,
And me."

On with it....

Friday, January 04, 2002

Okay, so I'm a dumb hormonal "if I feel like this for thirty seconds, it must be like that forever" girl, and I overreact to stuff.

Today has really sucked. For those of you who want at least some indication of what's going on, Jeff found out about some shit that he didn't previously know about. By reading this, none the less. Yeah, I'm real fucking smart- don't want someone to find out about something? Post it on your website! Quickly now! And, yeah, let's admit it- I'm fucking ripped that I didn't get into the play.

But right now the thing that's salvaging life, as we know it, for me, is A- that Jeff has let me know he will not allow this to come between us, and B- that some people are so fucking cool.

Case in point, Mitch. After making fun of the fact that I stopped talking to him in French class when the teacher moved his girlfriend next to him (and behind me), which I did purely for his benefit, as people seem to think I hit on EVERYONE I say anything to, at least in that school, he asked me how I was and I warned him that an honest answer to that particular question wasn't exactly the type of thing that people talk to about with casual acquantances. He then insists that I tell him, and when I do, he leaps upon the task of helping me. When he has to leave, he tells me to e-mail him so he can think of thigns for me to do and say to remedy my current situations.

People who I consider to be actually good are a dying breed. I went to save the conversation and when I got to my folder in Aim where I save Mitch conversations with the full intention of saving the file as "Mitch is so cool.htm", I found that not only was that filename already taken, but so is the filename "sooocoooool.htm". He's clearly the type of person who leaves a certain impression- once finished talking to him, all one wants to do is express that he's wonderful.

Which brings me back to the idea that he reminds me SO MUCH of Elorza. But I have to pee and eat and I really don't have much more to say, so let's wrap this up.

"The center of attention
Got an honorable mention
Once again.
And salutations-
You're a victim of your own imagination."
~Green Day

On with it.

Funny how in just one moment you can go from lovnig life, and everything in it, and people and places and smells and things, and yourself- however naively- to subscribing purely to existentialism.

Existence is a futile hell. Everything I've ever written is testimony to that.

Wouldn't Camus and Kafka be proud?

I want to quote "At Seventeen" except that Janis Ian is a beautiful victim, and we all feel sorry for her, and for ourselves when we relate to her, and I do not deserve the perverse privelege of self-pity.

So, yeah, on the undecided matter of the biggest tradgedy of this week- it's decided. The play can go fuck itself. But this is somewhat larger.

On with it.
Wow, Nick is a bastard.

FieryGwenivere: Wow...........I'm going to fucking kill something
Nick: lol, that bad?
FieryGwenivere: I have just figured out what caused my damn page to get all big and shit
FieryGwenivere: on the post that I've just explained I thought was tremendously amusing, I wrote "haha" repeatedly in a long-ass procession without using spaces
FieryGwenivere: Apparently, blogger doesn't ever wrap without a space
FieryGwenivere: that's ALL it was
FieryGwenivere: that was so fucking easy
FieryGwenivere: I've put HOURS into this
FieryGwenivere: tweaking the template
FieryGwenivere: adjusting it
FieryGwenivere: reading line after line of HTML looking for the slightest little tiny problem
FieryGwenivere: a deleted letter somewhere
Nick: *coughs*
FieryGwenivere: something like that
FieryGwenivere: and ALL IT WAS was the fact that I didn't use a damn space
FieryGwenivere: SHIT!
FieryGwenivere: :-) If I weren't so good-natured (Ha..ha ha) This would bother the SHIT out of me
Nick: LOL!@@@]

:-) Ass. On with it.
Looks like I'm going to have to put my own brain to work on how to fix this damn site.

School week statistics:
Best "you had to be there" moment:
Linda: That's a lot of jizz to come out of one cock..uh, coke.
Chase: You know what they say- "Fill me up, Scotty*.
Linda: I'm getting a bad mental picture...
Chase: "Fill me up, Scotty!"
*More laughter*
Chase: Heh heh, "Fill me up, Scotty!"
*More laughter*
Linda: Isn't it "Beam me up, Scotty?"....asshole.
*Hysterical bursts of laughter that cause about three surrounding tables to gawk at us for, like, five minutes*

Movie Rentals:
The Little Mermaid (watched yesterday)
Charly (yet to be watched)
uh....Show...something. Shit....*goes downstairs after moments of trying to look it up fruitlessly, nukes some bagels and checks the video name* Ah, All that Jazz (yet to be watched)

Most Herculean Task:
Fixing Linda's futon- go dad! (Knew he had to be good for SOMETHING, eventually)

Musical quote:
"You think
I only think about you when we're both in the same room.
I'm only here to witness the remains of love exhumed
You think we're here to play a game of who loves more than who...

If you call, I will answer
And if you fall, I'll pick you up
And if you court
This disaster...
I'll point you home."
-Call and Answer, Barenaked Ladies

Most underated constant:
Elorza's endlessly frustrating- and totally wonderful- obstinance.

Biggest tradgedy:
Well, not being casted for the one-acts sucks some pretty fucking huge balls, but I guess we'll see if I can beat that out.

Theme of the week:
Bad fucking karma, man.

Now to partake in my after school ritual of eating way too much- two bagels already, what next?- call some people who will hopefully have pity on me for being a dumbass, and possibly to watch All That Jazz, a rental so promising I couldn't remember it's freaking name, except that it had the word "Show" in it.
Oh, and to try to fix the damn website. Argh!

On with it!
Hehehehe, I've just sacrificed WAY too much sleep, soooo many things have the potential to go wrong tomorrow that it may very well be devastating to my entire existence and, hey, my damned page seems to be malfuctioning-

But I've just talked to Elorza in the first time in like a month and he's made me feel wonderful again.

Screw tomorrow! I'm going to bed smiling tonight.

Some people just rule for no other reason than their unparalleled ability to be themselves. On with it!
My life seems to be a somewhat constant parade of the shit hitting the fan. Which leads to the logical conclusion that I need some sort of metaphorical regularity medication.

If any of you out there in Internet Land can tell me what's happened to my template, what line I may have accidentally erased or whatever that makes this damn page appear as thick as it does...I'd really love to be able to fix that without having to go back and reset the template....which would royally suck.

I seem to be in a state right now where I'm wishing against wish the Ben, Nick, or Mr. Ladd would be on. On the plus side, James is on and he is trying to fix my site- damn I love James! You rule, James! Let's all give props to James!

At any rate, I should have been in bed....well before Mark left. Tonight with him was good, though- he's the only other person I know with such an insatiable desire for physical warmth. I'd get into it, but I have to get up in the morning...suck-tacular!

On with it.

Thursday, January 03, 2002

"Call and Answer" by Barenaked Ladies is gorgeous, and somehow saddening me. It reminds me of someone I shall try to let remain nameless on this site and in my mind from here on out, and loving them.

And having to try not to.

The most important thing in the world, I think is to say everything you want at the exact moment you want to say it, maybe....because it seems like the worst fate in the world is to never get the change to express it all...and to find yourself awaiting a time when you might be able to, which probably will never come. I find myself questioning this theory in that it seems my endless need to express everything I damn well feel like expressing without consideration towards other people is what has caused me to lose quite a few things (people) in life...and therefore lose my ability to express myself on a more personal level than this hellish page.

Mark's here, so I'm out........On with it.

Wednesday, January 02, 2002!

FieryGwenivere: you heard the me, ben, nick rumor yet/
FieryGwenivere: ?
Casey: er, yes... (lapse)
Casey: phew! I really didn't need to hear that...
FieryGwenivere: Oh, man, did I inadvertently turn you on by mentioning Nick? Sorry about that
FieryGwenivere: *wonders why anyone in the world likes her when she's this much of a bitch to random strangers*
Casey: must not form mental picture...FieryGwenivere: you mean like of Nick, naked, on a clam shell, covering himself by holding the long, blond wig he's wearing against his nipples?
FieryGwenivere: Man, you really ARE hot for him.
Casey: ick, must block linda, must block linda!
FieryGwenivere: Geez, I didn't realize it was this bad
FieryGwenivere: Already? No stanima at all!
FieryGwenivere: I mean, that's he told me, but I didn't believe him till now (lapse)
Casey: well, thanks for embeding this in my subconscious. I can't wait for the dreams I'll have tonight...
FieryGwenivere: Hey, I think the wind is blowing around the clam shell- the hair is getting out of control!!!
Casey: this might just scar me for the rest of my life
FieryGwenivere: Then my job here is done.

Ah, poor Casey. On with it!

Apparently somebody has been spreading rumors through EL that me, Nick, and Ben have large, interpersonal make out sessions. And while I'm trying to be mad for Nick and Ben's sake....


Hey, rumor-spreaders- did you hear the one that I had sex with Cory Prindal at my sophomore year Prom? Or that I was sleeping with an unamed teacher? Or the one I STARTED about being pregnant? Oh, oh, the beauties that me and Emily used to make out on the street in front of my house at night! (In back cove, I'll give you, but South Street, Lisbon Falls? How dumb would you have to be?)

Torrie doesn't seem to have the most infamous example of how I respond to rumors anymore posted on her site, so I'll post it, along with the story of it, later. *Tries not to laugh her ass off about EVERYTHING* Right now, I've got a date with Jeff....oh, and of course, six of his friends. In a hot tub. Naked. With whips and chains.

Nick, Ben- wanna come????

On with it!

Tuesday, January 01, 2002

I managed to lose my longer post somehow, so, for now, let's condense it-

~*Happy New Years, dear Readers. I love...well, most of you.*~

On with it!

Monday, December 31, 2001

Technology has brought me into an age where love letters are intangible traces of information in a cold, wiry highway, without the advantages of hand writing or just a subtle wisp of scent...and yet still his words, electronically displayed though they may be, have every bit as much affect on me as I can imagine my ancestor's had on each other...except alive and immortal.

Tonight is New Years eve, and I am about to log off to go and make my plans- don't know what they are yet, but damn it, they'll be something! So let's post my resolutions and refrain from making some cynical comment about the likelihood that I'll mess than up- at least one is too important to not believe in, at least for tonight.

I will be published this year- a magazine or an important website or something, and I will get in better shape than I am now- I want to discover two different three-letter a_s words on my body. Those are the first two...the third....starting at midnight tonight, I will do everything in my power not to fuck this relationship up, to make it work as long and as healthfully as I possibly can.

On January first, 2002, the year I am to graduate and start the second chapter of my life, I have been left with relatively little to believe in. Let's raise a glass of sparkling cider, or coke at least, to those beliefs, and the upkeep of them.

Let's see if I can survive another, eh? Keep tabs on me, readers- it shall continue to be....well, as exciting a ride as it ever was.

Yes, I'm well aware how very little that's actually saying. Screw you too.

On with it!
How entirely convenient- I just used my "Blog This..." function to do that. That was cool shit. Fun fun.

I REALLY should go to bed now....ON WITH IT!
"I'm going to Chads for New Years Eve, and I have no idea how that will be. Stressful is my guess, but Eustress or Distress is the big question.

Ben posted that on his blog tonight. Two things about that delight me- his use of the words "Eustress" and "Distress"- two things you NEVER hear anyone distinguish between, and his use of MY word, "Meh". It's been a while since I've heard other people using that.

Ben's the greatest, when was the last time I pointed that out? *Sigh*

On with it.
I guess I could just edit it into that post, but that would take SO much more effort. I just need to point out how damned soft my hair is right now- it's great.

On with it!
The idea that there's anything at all in life that I have to keep from him kills me- I wish I could show him everything. Forever.

Tonight was the first night, since we've been together- a month today (technically yesterday, the thirtieth)- that we actually made a reference at all to the fact that in nine months, I'll be in...well, hopefully New York, if not, who knows? God, I don't ever want to think about the future. There really isn't any way at all we will survive it...unless I stay in Maine.


He brought me a rose tonight, because he knew I needed it- needed him to be as amazing as he can be to save me from everything.

I wish I could show him everything and have the oppurtunity to be saved from it. Greg and I got into a fight yesterday night about the shit that, well, no one knows about. Except Ben and Greg......I don't want to fight with Greg, I don't want this good spell to be over. I'm not sorry that I got angry with him last night- on top of my being emotional and irrational, he said something really really fucking pissy. But it's not worth losing the friendship over- I may be afraid to ever really be angry at anyone again, now that I lost Jeremey over it. I might entirely lose my ability to push people to give me the treatment I deserve.

Not as bad as losing him. Or losing Matchbox Twenty- I strain to think how I'll be able to truly love them anymore. I loved them because of him and with him, and for him, maybe. He was so much of everything- things keep reminding me of him unintentionally.

Maybe the events the nameless events that conspire to be shit for me right now are being merciful- I seem to have shut off mourning the loss of Jeremey to brood over them. They've taken precedence in my mind and they're....slowly becoming easier than thinking about him was. Last night they weren't, surprisingly. So few things aren't. But I must stop making reference to these things, because inquiring minds want to know. And can't, as it happens. Tough luck.

I have an appointment with Mr. Ladd tomorrow at 11 that I forgot to let my mom know about- I'll have to write it on the message board in the kitchen and hope it's not a problem. I'm not going to put my energy into worrying about the likelihood that it is right now. Afterwards, I've yet to have any plans for New Years....though I think I may be doing something with Emily, who I think may be vaguely angry at me, from what she posted on her site tonight. Does "vaguely angry" work? I really don't think so.

And by the way- who the hell has split rock as their ISP? Because whoever they are, they seem to be my biggest fan.

*Sigh* He's been gone 25 minutes and I will go to bed missing him so badly I could die of it. But at least it feels good to need him this badly again....I'd been living without rather awfully well lately. Couldn't after tonight- not the way he was running his fingers over my cheek and looking into my eyes....clichés fucking rock when you act them out. I love him.

On with it.

Sunday, December 30, 2001

I have joined the bravenet affliate service because Ben is smart enough to want to track his hits the same way I do- with bravenet, and signing him up means earning a dollar.

I can't actually get that dollar until I've earned, like, 19 more, though. So here's the deal- if you have a journal or a blog or any site online and you want to be able to track down who's been on your site as well as I can, click the link below:

Free Website Tools and Services

Once your own that page, go to "join now" and after you've signed up, go to the Hit counter section and create your own unique hit counter. And if you have any questions or problems at all, just ask me!

Amber, Nick- you two especially could use one of these!

On with it.
I meant to just be on for a few minutes and then go watch Forget Paris, but in trying to figure out javascript bullshit, I've wasted the past two hours unknowingly.

But, hey, look- my LINKS now get all big and shit. Isn't that impressive?
(Just so you know, that was only an example- it will only take you to Google)

Well, at least I can say I accomplished something today. *Stops for a moment to let the weight of the statement hit her*
*Sigh* I'm a sad, sick little thing.

"Give me life, give me pain, give me myself again. Give me life, give me pain, give me myself again. Give me life, give me pain, give me myself again. Give me life, give me pain, give me myself again. Give me life, give me pain, give me myself again."

No clue why I felt the urge to actually type that four times- not JUST copy and paste. Oh, these little earthquakes! Here we go again.

Hmmmm, my website is experiencing technical difficulties. And Jeff is apparently online. What amazing timing.

Ben: I can't wait until GWI gets DSL
FieryGwenivere: life sucks.

I'm so good with segways.

"Your skin,
Oh yeah your skin and bones
Turn in
To something beautiful.
Do you know
For you I'd bleed myself dry."
~Cold Play, Yellow

Amber's site has reminded me of the fact that I hadn't heard that song for months, so I am now in the process of listening to it again and again.

Love songs kill today.

Jeff's coming in an hour two an hour and a half, and having only been awake for 3 hours prior to this, I've yet to bathe or change or make myself presentable at all.

My emoticons of happiness have no credibilty right now, except that everyone trusts emoticons. We forget sometimes that all it really takes to make them is the extension of one's fingers over the colon and the close parantheses. Watch, I'll show you.

Hey. This is Linda. :-)

Doesn't that line sort of give the impression that I'm okay? Good even? Here's news for you-
I'm not.


Oh yeah, work it baby. (No clue......lucidity escapes me.)

So it would appear that with the help of emoticons, I can lie without even having to say anything! God Bless Technology!

:o) On with it!!!!! :o)
Woke up with cramps this morning....I deserve that. I'm no where near as angry at myself and everything as I was last night, but I think I've come to the conclusion that I fully support the idea of female castration. Go, Africans!

Ambigously yours, Linda.

On with it.
Ben's been 11 of the last 50 hits. I wonder why he would know that there's something wrong that know one else would.

On with it.
You know, tonight would have been so much goddamned fun. I wouldn't have had a care in the world. I would have successfully put away every thought of certain unpleasantries and life would have been great. Just three kids galavanting through the city at night, going the wrong way down one way streets and making fun of the potheads.

But I haven't changed one fucking bit and I never fucking will.

On with it.