Thursday, March 07, 2002

It takes so little to please me.

I hadn't checked Jeff's site for a while, because, frankly, I don't like reading things that I'm not mentioned in. I'm tremendously self-involved in this way- other people's existences tend to just piss me the fuck off. I guess that's not entirely true, it's a bit of an exaggeration- hopefully- but the truth is, the less I'm mentioned, the more I'm thinking "Ya know what would be cooler than this? Reading my archives, man! Yee-haw!" This is for a simple reason- I, SuedeCaramel, am a pathetic, fame-seeking loser.

You know those questions of which you would pick if it were between fame and fortune? I always USED to say fortune, but it's clear to me now that that's bullshit. The thing I want most in the world is for people to be thinking about me. And mentioning me. And ceasing to have functioning existence without me.

Okay, so I hope it's not the thing I want *most*, but I definitely know it's up there.

This explains why, as of yet, I've neglected to offer a link to Jeff's Site- it's better than mine and I was afraid to lose my *smirk* readership. His entries are roughly the quality of my previously discontinued newsletter, which I vow to have going again by....oh, let's say the end of next week. Now hold me to that, spawn! (Maybe Jeff's blog is more successful because he doesn't refer to his readers as "spawn")

Either way, we've just been let out for lunch and I've yet to spit out that the whole point of this entry was to say that he mentioned me a few days ago and that makes me happy.

I'm gone though.

On with it.

Wednesday, March 06, 2002

Quote of the day:
"I'm not down with hemmorroids."
-A certain computer class teachers who has withheld permission or me to use his name....but it was in the voice, man.

In said class, very behind, so On With It!

Tuesday, March 05, 2002

Really really bad day.

Quit civil rights team. Somewhat unofficially. Because I don't have the courage to fight for it the way I did last year, and it's turned into the "Good intentions" team or some shit like that....because it's all yelling and I can't feel conviction anymore and because I've gotten to the point where I'm making racist comments and I'm sick of bright-and-shiny homosexuality. So I'm fucking bi, who gives a fuck? I've gotten more shit about my opinions on beastiality than what turns me on. I don't have the motivation anymore.

Honestly, I wanted it back. I meant to talk to Floyd about it- maybe that's all I really wanted, was to talk to her one-on-one again. But I couldn't get her alone and when I went to talk about it Katie jumped on my back and told me to just quit- I started crying, so I could retort. Maybe hormones, maybe the fact that much more in my life is wrong than is right, but I was in a room of people who might have once tried to take care of me, and they didn't. Understandable, whatever- I just don't like it when I need someone to take care of me and that person isn't there. I don't like slinking back home and crying to my blog. I wouldn't let anyone I cared about go without someone...unless I was part of the reason they needed someone. I don't know, I'm rambling.

I want Jeff, or Ben or Chad or Nick, or, jesus, someone. I want to be next to someone or on the phone with someone- I just want to feel safer than I do. Things are wrong right now.

Fuck it.

On with it.
Jan G. is- or was until approximately 2.5 seconds ago- talking about some movie that involved a woman getting cloned into four people and chopping some guy's manhood off, which resulted in it's remains squirting bloog all over the place. But as she and the person she was relating this story to were standing at Mr. Leighton's desk, our dear librarian came over and shooed them, complete with stereotypical shooing hand motions. This caused Jan to move about 6 feet away from his desk and continue the story, more loudly. Gotta love openly defiant people.

I saw her at Good Will once with her aunt and some child I can only assume was either her cousin or her sister. She's talked about her aunt, whom she lives with, as being a hellish bitch before, but I tended to take it with a grain of salt, the way I take....well, pretty much any of my contemporaries saying....pretty much anything. Seeing this woman for real, however, gave me more pity for Jan that I can previously remember having for anyone- this massive atrocity of a woman bitched out, in no uncertain terms, the people at the counter who refused to give her some discount for some reason (which I suppose is understandable, it may have been an important discount for her) and slapped the child- who was no older than 5- across the face for the offense of climbing around int he cart. Jan stood there quietly- the only time I ever saw her be quiet- and looked clearly ashamed. I tried to offer her sympathy with my eyes but she wouldn't meet my stare.

I don't particularly like Jan, but she's a good enough person. I wouldn't run away with her- as I would so many other people- but she's tolerable in small doses. And apparently she turned out as well as she possibly could have under the circumstances.

On an unrelated and totally (searches desperately for the word she's looking for) vapid note, I like the way my hair is falling today.

I will be in school, non-stop, until 5:00 tonight- from study hall (where I am now) I go to chemistry, then detention, then a half-hour of science olympiad, then Civil Rights Team. This is not pleasing to me- If the time were mine, I would be spending it doing wonderful things like writing useless entries on this or posting on the pit, but it's conceivable that I could expand my horizons via renting a movie or maybe reading a book. Doubtful, but conceivable.

Johnny V- which is what people actually call him, is asking me my opinion on a computer-related problem that, had I the drive, I could probably solve for him. However Johnny, while infinitely more pleasant than Jan, is another one of those people that- for some reason- I can only handle in small doses, and heand I are going to be having to spend way too much time together in the next month working on Mission Possible for Science Olympiad, which drives me to want to spend as little time listening to his voice at any other time as is at all possible. He is sitting across from me and I'm applying the "Nod and say 'yeah'" theory to our conversation. No fucking clue what he's talking about.

I'm going to now illegally check my mail (which isn't something I regularly do in the library, but I'm at my wits end {included for Mr. Leighton's sake}) and if I have none I will undoubtedly read something I wrote to someone else, because I'm -THAT- self-interested. Perhaps I'll check out my archives.

On with it.

Monday, March 04, 2002

Oh, and Ben, who e-mailed me today! I miss you Ben!

(I couldn't leave out loving Ben.)

On with it!
Well, it seems I have run out of time- I've taken up all my whole day doing MEANINGFUL things, but I thought I'd let my audience in on the fact that today was wonderful.

It was 11:11 when I logged on, and while it's not anymore, I thought I'd take the time to sicken my audience and let them know that there are things I love right now.

At this instant, at 11:13, I love Je- Turtle, and Elorza, and Chad, and Jenn, and Frank Sinatra very very much.

:-) As if y'all didn't know that before. (Well, maybe not the Frank Sinatra bit.)

Don't have time to beam, though. Just feel good because you're you and you're beautiful, not because I wasted both of our time with inspirational bullshit.

"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid
Like 'I love you'"
-Franky boy (or whoever wrote THAT one)

On with it!

Sunday, March 03, 2002

*Turtle. Change all them "Jeff"s to "Turtle"s.

On with it.
Tonight was the first time in a very long time that I have not watched Jeff drive away as he left. This was due to an intense need to relieve leaves me feeling unsettled. Not having to relieve myself, having missed him drive off.

Yes, I don't really know what I'm rambling about this time, either. Perhaps one of these days, somebody out there will get it.

I can hear my father climbing the stairs, and that means that sooner than later he will poke his head in here and passively imply that it's time to go to bed. And with the increasing number of times he does that, it gets slightly more proactive.

Oooh, it wasn't all that passive. Probably because he had to kick jeff out (and by that I mean imply that he should leave) earlier.

Well, wouldn't want to make him get slightly more proactive. I'll be off.

On with it.
So last night I wrote a really long entry about going to the mall with Chris and freaking out this Asian guy, not being able to access frank's pit (which I still can't seem to), missing dearly the show "The Adventures of Pete and Pete" and my unfulfilled desire to have the Polaris promo tape with the theme song as well as two others, my mother being drunk, which happens rarely, and my father sending me and my sister a forward about a poetry contest, which affected me rather deeply.

Last night I had a dream that I was having him read an essay that I had written for some reason, and he was being all fatherly and good about it, but there was this part about his and my awful relationship that I had forgotten about, so I tried to convince him I had edited everything on that part of the page out and get him to skip it, which wasn't working too well because the next page started in the middle of a sentence.

Mr. Ladd thinks dreams are indicative of what we truly want most in life or something. I'm sure that means something, but you'll have to figure it all out for yourself.

"You don't need my pictures on your wall
You said you need no one.
You don't need my secret midnight call
I guess you need no one.
Is anybody waiting at all for you?"
~Trane, Hopeless

Mark told me to download this because supposedly it's about Adam Gaynor's sex life...or maybe someone else's, but I thought he said Adam gaynor. If I had this song on CD and a portable CD player, I would be walking through the damp streets of Lisbon listening to it, and all the other songs that once were going to grace my "Most Depressing Songs Ever" most compiliation. The weather outside is perfect for that, and I feel like being alone and slightly chilly. I don't know if this song depresses me as much of the rest of them- I don't even know for sure what the rest of them were. But if I were going to make one, based only on what MP3's I have right now, I think it would be:

"Champagne High", by Sister Hazel
"Best I Ever Had", by Vertical Horizon
Possibly "River", by Joni Mitchell
Probably "The Freshmen", by the Verve Pipe
Maybe the aforementioned "Hopelessly", by Trane
"Winter" or "Silent All These Years", by Tori Amos
"Wise Up", by Aimee Mann...I think

And, jesus, so many others on this list it would take years to list them. I never realized how entirely into depressing music I am....but it's a lifestyle for me. I embrace the importance of sadness.

I need to go for my walk. No CD player. I could bring the tape player/radio, but with my selection of tapes, I'd basically be at the mercy of the radio to keep my mood where it is.

Do I want to keep my mood where it is? I think so. It's really not the appropriate weather outside to be happy.

"She says that love is for fools that fall behind"
~Fuel, Shimmer

All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade away again. I had more than one dream last night- another one was that on my way back from New York, with a completely different group of people than I was with, this time including Austin, Greg (but not Greg), a friend of Greg's that doesn't really exist, Lucas M. and Ben we were stopped in Boston- bigger than Boston, but Boston. We were walking around and we saw a group of eight planes overhead and started joking that they were probably terrorists, and how lucky we were to be in a big city where an attack was likely. And then the jokes came true, as they frequently seem to in dreams, and one of the planes dropped a missile which hit this Arch-de-Triumph-like opening to a bridge I was standing under, which we just stood and stared at until I realized it was going to fall on us. We ran and the a piece of the Arch came down about a foot away from my head, and then more things started being hit. At this point I realized Greg's friend was not holding Austin like he had been earlier, and when I asked him about it he said that Lucas had him. A few minutes later, Lucas came up to me, pointed out that Austin was back on the bridge, and commented that I never should have given him to Greg's friend- I ran to get him, and did just before something else hit him. Then I got seperated from everyone else- I got to this train tunnel-like thing, and on the sides of this one train- loaded with Japanese babies and mothers- there were all these things that were holding stickers for specific japanese children- it was the japanese who were attacking us, and the stickers were so they would know which children to spare when they invaded. I desperately tried to grab a sticker for Austin, but couldn't for a while, and then suddenly had one without reason. (At this point I have no idea if the way I'm explaining this makes sense to anyone but me.) After the first train rode away, another disappeared, this time with Americans on it. I managed to get on that one, and found Lucas again, along with Sarah J., mysteriously. I decided the best course of action was to call home and ask them to pick me up in Gloucester, which I did, and they said they'd send Cathy, I think. Luke was upset because he didn't think his parents would come get him, so I offered him a ride, and Sarah as well. We accidentally got off at some other town, however, with this beautiful park that I sat in and worried that they wouldn't be able to find us. From there the dream was a blur until I got home, and began asking everyone if it had really happened, or if it was only a dream. Everyone confirmed that it was real, and I decided that the one thing I needed to do, having survived this horrible thing, was to call Jeremey and tell him I loved him, and hope to make peace.

But I woke up before I did. And when I woke up, I asked myself if it was a dream. When I realized it was, I wasn't relieved as I normally am when a horrible dream ends up being nothing more. Because I didn't have a reason that I could explain anymore, to call him. And I do still love him. Of course.

That whole explannation was spurred on by the "Shimmer" quote. I'm trying to demonstrate that all that shimmers in this world really does fade away again.

I don't really feel like walking anymore. I probably will, anyway.

On with it.