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"Moons and Junes and ferris wheels
The dizzy-dancing way you feel
As every fairy tale comes real-
I've looked at love that way.
But now it's just another show
You leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away
I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take and still, somehow
It's loves illusions I recall-
I really don't know love at all."
A lot of times I feel that way. And when I listen to this song, I can feel it seeping into my heart like moisture and making it heavier. But I shouldn't be feeling that way now. I have love. I have Zack.

Zack and I have decided that we do not intend to end our relationship when I go off to massage school, whenever in hell that may be. When I come back, I will stay here- in the area, that is, hopefully not the house- until he graduates. When we both move on, we plan to move on together.

So I'll be in Maine until at least June. That's bad. The good thing, and the scary thing, is that I'm somewhere I've never been before- in a relationship that doesn't have a pre-determined expiration date, as far as I'm concerned. In past relationships, I've made it as clear as possible that I'm not looking to spend the rest of my life with anyone, no matter how I feel about them. I'm not about to say that I want to spend the rest of my life with Zack, but I can say this- the idea of us ending scares me more than the idea of commitment. So we'll go with it, for now. Big step for me.
I've restarted the song, after interluding with "River", by the same artist (Joni Mitchell) and it reminds me that I am depressed. Because....I'm happy with Zack, obviously I am, but there are still al lot of demons from my past that need slaying....or, rather, fairy tales from my past that need growing out of. While I'm not sure I've ever really gotten over anyone, there's one person in particular that I don't think I'll ever get over completely, or maybe I'm just not willing to say goodbye to something that I, for once in my life, lost, as opposed to giving up by my own free will. Romantically, that is. When it comes to platonic love, I miss Jeremey lately more than I have in a few months- and when you take into account that there hasn't been a day in the past year that I haven't thought about him, that's pretty bad. More rational friends of mine seem to think that the more I prostrate myself to him, the lower I get and the more desperate I become, the more satisfied he's gonna be. I wish I could agree with my guiding voice of reason in all of this- with all the guiding voices of reason- but I just can't force myself to think of my oldest friend as being that cruel. I can't for myself to think of him as anything but my oldest friend. A while ago, I was at a point where I could remember him fondly and sort of accept that things will never be the same again, and I wish I was still there: the last thing I want to do is forget our conversations, our private jokes, going to the library to research how to hypnotize people so that we could get humiliating revenge against a common foe, trying to get to the different islands of myst together, searching for Mrs. Deraspe's missing bee stamps, discussing fucked-up Matchbox Twenty lyrics, writing the Happy Squirrel poem together, both of us being so stubborn that we spent an hour on the phone in silence during a fight rather than just hanging up.....7 years worth of memories I don't want to give up. But I could smile at them before, now I....I still can. I'm just crying while I'm smiling.

I wish I could still afford to be on the other end of a silent phone call. I wish I could be stubborn and say he's wrong. But the fact of the matter is I don't care who is...I'd blame myself, I'd blame anyone, I'd do pretty much anything. As if this is news to you- I want my friend back.


On the lighter side, I guess, is that old friendships seem to be coming alive in leaps and bounds. Andrew and I are still doing alright, testing how long we can go without fighting and hating each other bitterly. Whichever one of us had the longer stick up our ass before, it's been removed.
Andrew: Tired, aren't you?
Linda: badly
Andrew: Want me to come massage your feet for you?
Andrew: hehe, gotcha.
Andrew: *schwish*
Linda: yes, schwish.
Linda: I would never let anyone massage my feet
Andrew: I know, I wouldn't forget something like that.
Linda: wasn't sure I'd told you
Andrew: The only way you ever even let me touch your feet was if I filled you with horse-tranquilizers!
Linda: is that what you're calling it now?
Andrew: "The Injector" is what I call it, thank you, but pretty much, yeah.
Linda: :-)
Linda: you're great
Andrew: *bows*
Andrew: *trips while bowing*
Linda: *kicks you while you're down*
Andrew: *pleads for mercy*
Linda: *Walks away with a more attractive guy*
Andrew: *watches as she walks away with her imaginary friend*
Linda: Heh, it's like an intrepretive dance of our relationship. :-D
Andrew: Exactly!
Linda: If we want to call Jeff that, that is.
Andrew: What, he's not even good enough to be classified as 'imaginary?'

(On the off chance that Jeff reads this, that ain't what I was going for at all, and told him so in the next message, I just though what he said was amusing.)

Anyway, so....I'm sorta strung between good and bad right now. As ever, I guess. But hey, I got a play to right...not that I mentioned that. Too preliminary to go announcing it so publicly though- when it's done, you'll be the first to know. Just trust me.

On with it.

HOLY QUOTE OF THE DAY, BATMAN!!!!

Hehe, I can't believe how much quality conversation I must have missed out on in months and months of not talking to Andrew. Quote of the day tonight- talking about Zack's potentially shooting up the school. (No Mr. Nunnery, it's NOT really going to happen, *wink, wink*)

ANDREW: Most likely he would bring something crappy to kill everybody with , like a 38 special, and the gun would expliode in his hand, taking off his thumb and index finger. *Silence* Poetic justice Linda, poetic justice.
LINDA: How is that poetic justice?
ANDREW: It's funny when people's fingers get blown off.

I love that kid.

But the shoote- uh, Zack, is here, so I'm out. Wow, I'm not even slightly amusing anymore. Forgive me.

On with it.

FieryGwenivere: I love starting strange, random chain reactions
Nick: Panda.
FieryGwenivere: you totally get me.
Nick: *nods*

When was the last time I mentioned I LOVE NICK?

'Cause I do.

On with it.

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
~Robert Frost


Thinking of you, babe. On with it.

Jeff, whom I love more than I can say, and this is not just something I say because of the following, bestowed upon me yesterday two gifts, one a bookmark with a Jack Vettriano painting- "Dance me till the end of Time", I think it's called- on it and the other "So Much Shouting, So Much Laughter", a new Ani two-CD set. He got both for free (the CDs were a sent to St. Joe's radio station as a promotion), but even so, I am deeply, deeply appreciative. Mostly because of the evidence they present that he knows me, perhaps better than I worried he did, being that he knew I'd like...love them.

At work, I don't really have a long time to go into the fact that Jeff is amazing, or that my paranoia- or perhaps rational fear- that people do not know me as well as I would hope they do- is something that defines me perhaps more than anyone knows, but one song has struck me enough that I can't rid myself of my desire to write an entry about it. "Gratitude". Not actually expecting all of you- all two of you, more likely than not- to visit that site and read the entirety of the song, I will quote enough of it to give you an idea of it's essence:

"...thank you for half of your bed
we can sleep here like brother and sister,
you said

but you changed the rules
in an hour or two
and i don't know what you
and your sisters do
but please don't
please stop
this is not my obligation
what does my body have to do
with my gratitude?"

I need a motto like that- 'this is not my obligation'. I need that as my tagline. I need to practice saying that so I can when I need to. I need to feel the ability to say it when it's turning through my head like so many squeaking hamster wheels that shriek on and on to no avail. I need to work on getting better similes.

The last time I really felt as though I couldn't distance myself from a sexually uncomfortable situation despite my every desperate desire to was the night before I left for New York with Heather- we stayed at Torrie's that night, and her creepy roommate took an interest me in the midst of the bachanalia. While I managed to get away before I did anyhting that would constitute cheating- with him, anyway- he made quite the effort to seduce me by rubbing various parts of my body- leg, neck, back, GET THE FUCK OFF ME- and all I really wanted was to get away and to never, ever see him again, but I couldn't so much as turn to the guy and say "Hey, I'm not interested." I felt bad for having "started it", I guess- while jammed onto a couch with him and out four other people, I reclined and stretched my legs over his lap. Will I never learn?

Evidence of my feelings of sexual obligation more recently came tonight in the form of tears that I shed at a most inoppurtune time- at the time, I said I didn't know why I was crying, and I don't take this back now: I really don't understand it. But if I wanted to guess, and I'm not exactly sure that I do, or that this is the best place to make my first guesses public, I would say that it was perhaps vaguely related to the idea that, well, that the time I'm taking with certain things might be outweighing the patience previously involved. I am reluctant to talk about this here mostly because it seems to sound more like an accusation than what it truly is: my admittance of the paranoia that is plagueing me constantly when it comes to relationships, sex, anything like that.

I have issues. I need to deal with them. And I need a tagline.

THIS IS NOT MY OBLIGATION.

But cleaning the floor sorta is...so I'm off. On with it.

The earlier one does the friday five, the higher up they can get on a list of poeple who does it, and the better advertising it is for their site! So I now take brutal advantage of the fact that I am up this early on a september morn (stay for just a while! stay and let me look at you!) and do this now, so that maybe dozens of strangers will come to my site today and be captivated by...all of my...uhm....well, they'll come anyway.

1. Would you say that you're good at keeping in touch with people?
You know, this is definitely an answer that applies to me really strongly one way or another, but I'm really not sure which. I guess not- when I think back on it, I tend to keep a few people in the "active" part of my brain at one time- I do everything I can for them, but I tend to forget about people in the back. I think what I'm mistaking for my alleged ability to keep in touch with people is the obscene amount of effort I put into making people who might not want to keep in touch with me want to...or trying, anyway. But that's something different altogether I guess. So, uh, no?

2. Which communication method do you usually prefer/use: e-mail, telephone, snail mail, blog comments, or meeting in person? Why?
I have a high regard for all of those methods- My relationships with Jeff and Mitch developed through e-mail, so I'm grateful for that, as well as for the four-hour long phone conversations I used to have with Kris and Jeremey in the pre-internet days, and while I've never had a pen pal, I ADORE getting real mail, so the idea of one thrills me. I met Jacquie through her blog, and she's my douche-sizzlin' sistah, but, over all, nothing beats meeting in person. Being near someone, being able to touch them, smell them, hear their voice, see their mannerisms...I met Elorza online, I talked to him on the phone after a while, he's read my blog (though never commented) and I've sent him some things, but I just saw him in person for the second time ever...let me tell you, that's a rush. He's wonderful. And being near him, as well as being near to everyone I love, is amazing. (GAH! Sooo clichéd-sounding! Please, hit me!) The method I use the most often, however, would have to be AIM...which is terribly unfortunate.

3. Do you have an instant messenger program? How many? Why/why not? How often do you use it?
Ah, and now we address it. I have AIM, I used to have ICQ and Yahoo and MSN instant messnegers as well, but when you come right down to it, everyone has aim, and if they don't, they should. I have it because it makes it easy and cheap to keep in touch with everyone who's far away- entirely too many people like that- and even people who are close, which is sort of abuse of the privelige. I also tend to like how it's the only medium in the world where you can have multiple, totally exclusive conversations at one time. Technology! Wowee! How often? I'll have to go with "nauseatingly". Less now then I used to, because the computer is currently set up in my parents room, and they're asleep at night, which used to be my key instant messaging hours, but every chance I get, so long as I'm not entertaining any guests (and even if I am, sometimes...). Soon, the computer will be moved to my room and I'll have a 24 hour connection, then you can see how sick my addiction really is...voyeur!

4. Do most of your close friends live nearby or far away?
Far the fuck away. While it was pretty even up until a month ago- I had a big group of friends in auburn, which was just too far to be close, a bunch in my home town and some spattered throughout the country in college- now they're ALL GONE. All of them went off to college, which is why now it's the Linda and Zack show! Starring Linda and Zack! Catch all the excitement and adventure of Linda and Zack in this week's episode! But, hey, there's a bright side to all of this- this severely cuts down on the chances that I'll cheat on him...uh, as long as you keep drunk strippers away from me.

5. Are you an "out of sight, out of mind" person, or do you believe that "distance makes the heart grow fonder"?
Both. I can definitely make somebody out of my sight stay out of my mind, but if I choose to think about them- and that's definitely the choice that should be made for the most part- distance can make one realize how much they're missing out on. That said, I love you Jenn, Nick, Chad, Emily, Kris, Mark, Jeff, Serena, and, uhm....etc.! If I missed you, it's not because I don't love you, it's just because I don't love you enough. :-P


Hmmm.....the mundanity of those questions made each answer special and unique...oh, wait, no. Exact opposite effect. Sorry about that, my bad.

Happy reading, strangers! While you're here, other shit I've written is MUCH more interesting.*


*Ignore anything in caps...and add a "sorta....not really...if you're easily amused" to the end of that.

ON WITH IT!

On yet another Burger King night shift, I embrace the duties of cook for the first time by playing MASH online in my abundance of free time. Seemingly every time I play this game, there are two answers that consistently come out the same- I am having no kids, and- move over Zack!- I'm going to marry Chad.

You will live in Mansion.
You will drive a Red VW van.
You will marry Chad and have 0 kids.
You will be a Playwright in Ozarks.

Not a bad life, all in all. I don't know how a Playwright is going to make a living in the Ozarks, but I guess we don't have to stay there all the time. It ALMOST got narrowed down to living in a Mansion in Paris and owning a VW Van, that would have been a clash of genres.

I haven't talked to Chad all that much since certain incidents, but, between you, me, and the rest of the world, I'm don't think I'd be entirely over him if I saw him again. Given the kind of tryst we had, I'm not sure I'll ever be completely over him- don't get me wrong, I love Zack, and, given the chance, I wouldn't go bounding off, eager to choose Chad over the comfort and stability of relationship I was already in....you know, again. But as sad as it is to see everyone leave, it's probably a really good thing for me that he's far away.

The rather humbling situation with Chad was what first got me into this rather unfortunate mindset that I am now- if something is hurtful, I just don't think too much about it. It started when he told me about Kara and I, not knowing how I was supposed to deal with being as- well, let's say it- in love with him as I was and rejected, especially while in a situation to hurt someone I loved as much as Jeff, and dealing with Kody's death at the same time, I put both of these things out of my mind, more for the sake of sanity than anyhting, I guess. I never really went back and faced my feelings, however, and the relative numbness kept going when Jeff and I broke up- it was sad, extremely sad, but I wrote about it here and put it as much behind me as I could, mostly to salvage the upcoming relationship with Zack, I guess. When Jenn left, same thing- I wasn't numb at all leading up to that one, I was teary and desperate and very, very scared, but since it has become a reality, I try not to think about it, and I've largely suceeded.

This is why things are left unresolved- I've kept them that way. I seem to remember one other issue with which I felt I hadn't really faced my emotions, but perhaps I've put it out of my mind so much, it's now completely gone. I guess I don't know. I'm afraid, though, that if I don't take time to reckon with these things soon, I might end up some jaded version of my former self, I guess, or maybe just lose my ability to face things as emotionally brazenly as I used to...if "brazen" was the word I was looking for then.

As a reader, perhaps, you might even be able to tell the difference, compairing the way I write now as compaired to before- that is, if you cared that much. Reading through my archives, and even just these past few entries, I seem more...intelligent about things now, and I odn't mean that in a nessecarily good way. There was a great deal of rawness and passion in my older stuff, a genuine, teenaged quality that just made me all that much more compelling....to me, I guess. Maybe that's what it was- I was a teenager then. Maybe it was exactly when I hit eighteen and became an official adult- albeit, a teenaged adult- that I started handling things as adults do. Maybe I am growing into maturity, feeling my way into rationality and comprehension. Maybe, from now on, I will be an altogether logical, reasonable adult!

Eeeeewwwwwwwwwww........ Let's hope THAT'S not it! I gotta get in touch with my inner teenager, before this whole voting/cigarette-buying/porn-renting power trip gets the best of me.

Look at me! I couldn't be more teenaged! I'm working at BURGER KING, haven for uneducated high school slackers! Oooh, and now I have to go make a croissan'wich. Viva la youth!

On with it.

Enduring the night shift at Burger King, I take advantage of the slack nature of my young shift supervisor, who's physical beauty has become something of a bonus for me- they probably wouldn't have to pay me at all to be here. My coworkers, all of whom know about my completely superficial attraction to him, however, overestimate this: They think my agenda is to seduce him, when really, I just like to appreciate art when I see it. As far as my sexual life goes, the cat's out of the bag to everyone who cares- albeit, not many- that Zack and I are now officially Zack and I. How long this has been going on is unclear, however, I can tell you with certainty that we're here, we're queer, get used to it....or, something like that. I never know what I'm saying at all, least of all when it's 1:20 am, and I'm getting paid seven measely dollars an hour to watch the progression of the night and serve burgers.

Except that right now, as we all know, I'm doing neither of those things. I'm satiating the long forgotten needs of my fans. My many, many fans- all of which have five speeds, and oscillation capabilities! Yipee!

As last you heard on "...you must be very bored...", the continuing saga of teenage mundanity (*promptly looks up validity of word...woo!*), I was doing something slightly less mundaniffic than usual- I was headed off to New York. Or, a few days away from being headed off to New York- between my trip and my last entry were several struggles involving the cancelling of my hotel accomidations, as done by my extremely caucasian parents, who seemed to think their extremely caucasian daughter should not be spending the night in a one-star hotel in an entirely uncaucasian area of town. This lead to the monetary donation of fifty dollars a night on their part so that I could stay some place with a little more class, and a little less ethniticity--- Times Square. My parents line of thought seemed to be that Times Square was a business district, or something: I assume they associated it with the New York Times, and figured that since they'd never heard of a HARLEM newspaper, I must be better off where people can, well, read. I must point out, this is THEIR (hypothetical) opinion, not my own, as I am far less ignorant, I like to think, and just a little more wordly- I, personally, doubt the ability of the average person in Times Square to read, as well. Our hotel, which was photographed with a deceptive air of surrounding class on the internet add, was sandwiched between a parking garage and a building with a strip club on the top and a porno store on the bottom. Directly across the street, however, was the Gershwinn Theater, where the Broadway shows "Metamorphosis" and "Oklahoma" were performed. This goes to show you- there is seemingly no way to gauge the class factor of a block in New York. Maybe the locals have it figured it out, but to me, it appeared some complex enigma.

While I don't have the energy to relate my experience in the Big Apple with satisfactory detail- and I probably shouldn't, being that I AM being paid a massive seven dollars an hour- I'll go over some of the highlights: Some confusion involving my lack of credit card lead the hotel to rob me of almost two hundred dollars on deposit as well as the two hundred for the room, which left me without the full 400 I had brought with me. This wouldn't have been much of a problem, however, if it had not been for the massive malfunction of my ATM card, which randomly decided to assign to me a daily limit of funds that I was allowed to withdraw, as well as completely going INSANE on the second day. This was worked out midway through th etrip, and thanks to my father faxing his permission to charge the room to his mastercard, I was able to survive without selling my body to stock brokers...too much. Heather and I saw "Rent", the musical from which quotes have graced this website for months and months, leading up to the change of format that now affects us- to put it simply, it was transcendent. Details escape me, especially at this time of night, but you can request a more detailed account in person or on the phone- that is, if any of you were around to see me or call anymore. We spent the following evening with Elorza, my second-ever real-life encounter with him. Heather found him to be a complete asshole, but I was once again taken aback by his confidence, humor, and charisma, not to mention that he, too, is undeniably an masterpiece to be appreciated. The most notable experience of our third and final morning there would be breakfast at the wonderful "Ellen's Stardust Cafe", where the waitstaff sang for us. During our layover in Boston, I was able to spend a much-needed hour with Jenn, without whom my life is becoming rather eerily like bad freshmen poetry.

And then home, home again, where I was able to return, the next day, to the eager arms of my Zack, with whom I had a great deal to talk about- the night before leaving for New York, Heather and I stayed with Torrie and a small party conspired, involving Jill and Mike and several of Torrie's roommates. There was much booze to be had, and, while I ingested only a few sips myself, the drunken atmosphere made for a bit of a haze in my mind, and quite the interesting- if regrettably inappropriate- situation conspired. Having resolved everything I need to with uninvolved parties, I now wonder whether or not I will forgive myself for my own irresponsibility, and if others involved have any recollection at all. Suffice to say, other people there were very drunk.

I've been overnights for the past three days, the first of which was spent entertained by conversation with two of my male coworkers, the second sustained by Zack's presence for the full nine hours of the shift, and tonight, Jeff stayed a while, having dropped my off after us hanging out for the first time in...far too long. He's been keeping closer track than I have, suffice to say that an inapprorpriate period of time has passed. And I do love him, so much- it seems that the only problem, on my part at any rate, with our friendship continuing unaffected will be fighting the instinct I have to kiss him every now and again, but with a slight amount of effort, I won't screw that up- that would be no good for me, no good for him, and no good for Zack. Zack, who's loving companionship has become a distraction from all the loss I've had recently, perhaps too much for my own good.

Another time, another place for that explanation however. I must get back to my dilligent post, doing nothing and getting paid just about the same. On with it!

My mother, thinking, because I had told her, that my hotel might be in Brooklyn, came in to my room today to warn me of something, and thus a quote of the day was born!

Mom: You know, there are parts of Brooklyn that are just...black.
Linda: It's not in Brooklyn.
Mom: Where is it?
Linda: Harlem.

The look on her racist little face was precious!

No, I take that back- I don't think my mom is actually a rascist, it's just getting close enoguh to the trip where she's becoming...paranoid with concern. But it's amusing, just the same!

On with it.