To all the readers of this journal, whether few or many, friendly or hostile, this is my last entry. Sacrifice the Butterfly has served its purpose and hopefully outlived its metaphor. It's seen first-hand some of my hardest and most joyous times, and it is truly a treasured foray into the digital world. I'm a different person than the person that started it, as is always the case when I finish a journal, and it's time for me to move on. I don't know whether I'll get a new one, whether or not it will be Friends Only, or perhaps just private. But I do know one thing: I'm done in here. The butterfly's web has been spun, and it will stand, but she's decided to start saving herself this time around.

Thanks for listening,

me

(this journal entry is a compilation of two others that should have taken place but didn't, as well as an account of today. The first was to be entitled "What's 'ado'?" "It's what you say at a wedding.", while the other was to bear the subject of Chili's, Caucuses, and Chuck.  So...yeah. Here you go.)

Thursday evening was the first performance of The Face on the Barroom Floor and I really don't think I've quite recovered from the terror. Mrs. Fike waited until ten minutes before the performance to tell me that my olio was first, and break a leg. I don't know about that, but I'm sure I burst a few blood vessels. That was one of the scariest things I have ever done, to stand on stage completely by myself and do a dramatic reading of a poem. A really long poem, too. But I did fine, wonderful even, and it made the rest of the play go much easier for me. Sure, I screwed up a line, but I recovered, as did everyone else. Our crowd wasn't that great, but it went well all the same. Elle came! My daddy brought me flowers, which was really nice, ecspecially seeing how I'd had told him point blank not to come the other day when we were fighting over something. I hadn't talked to him since, and I really thought he wasn't going to come, and then boom, he was there. I was glad. About 14 members of the cast went out to Eat n' Park afterwards, which was macht spass. I had spaghetti, baby. Tiff, Donny, Kirstina, and myself got a ride with Chuck, a fun experience in itself, though a little scary. Honestly, no slander is meant towards his driving skills, as I'm sure he is totally fine when there aren't four other people talking at the top of their lungs, it's daylight, and he's somewhere that he's familiar with. But...he hit a median. Woohoo. I lost years off my life. Scary, scary, scary.....Love Chuck, though. I bought him ice cream for his troubles. Though I made him pay me back (I'm stingy) so I guesss wasn't the kindest deed of the century.

Oooh! Speaking of ice cream, after Chuch ran over the divider, we pulled into Burger King, McDonald's being our destination, ice cream cones being our goal. He was rattled, and didn't want to get back in the car and drive just yet, so we walked over to Mickie D's, in the freezing cold mind you, and went to go inside, when we discovered the door was locked! So we being the practical people we are, went around to the second window. After a  rap-tap-tapping, the window was opened, and we were explaining our plight to a very bemused employee. She then told us to go back to the first window to pay. We did. We got our ice cream. It was good. We also got the crap sacred out of us by some potheads, behind Burger King, but that's really because we're all just scaredy-cats........ 

Friday night was the second performance. I had already been habe ein nicht gut tag, and when performance time rolled around, I was just plain terrified. And upset. Not nervous, just plain sick with fear. So I went out, did my olio, rushed it, nearly forgot a line, came off stage when I was finished and burst into tears. Seriously, full on crying. I don't think I've cried in front of that many people since the never-to-be-remembered psychotic episode in English earlier this year. So after bawling on Chuck's shoulder for about five minutes, poor guy, I regained my composure. The rest of the play went fine, as we had a much better crowd, and I eventually relaxed. I think I almost missed a cue once, but let's not dwell....Richie came, which was really nice....Amanda , too, she got me a white rose.....a few members of the cast and I went out to FourStar to get pizza, and well deserved celebration. Amanda came too, she drove Jan, Alli, Rachel and myself. And oh God, how we annoyed the employee there, I'm sure. We were the only customers, and every so often we would break into song for some weird reason (Bohemian Rhapsody, Play that Funky Music White Boy, etc.) It was great fun, I love going out with people like that. Amanda drove me home after, and we went to McDonald's for ice cream, and had a nice long talk in her car. I can't for the life of me realize why I put her off for so long. Oh, wait. I can. Andy. But that was my doing, not his, so I'm not blaming him....But it was very cool, all the same. (I'm getting addicted to it: Jan, Amanda, and I all went out for Chinese yesterday. Fun times.)

Okay, so first compiled entry completed. On to the next.

Monday was Model UN, and it seemed a bad omen from the start. Kelley, the most prepared person in my group, was sick and didn't come. I hadn't been informed of the dress code, so I was the only one in jeans and sneakers, which I was given an extrodinarily hard time about. (She told me that probably wouldn't let me speak or even participate! Neither of which happened, thankyouverymuch.) I only brought one cd with me, so I listened to Insomniac three times straight on the bus, as no one talked to me. My partner made an alliance with every stupid joker slacker jack-off he could, and the Oreos were hard. And it was eight hours. Gah. Now don't get me wrong, parts were mucho fun, and it was neat to be a part of, and I'll probably do it next year, and be more prepared. There were cool people and everybody played a character. It was a little like role-playing, in a non-dirty way, and I very much enjoyed it. Not to mention the food at Chili's was sehr spitze. But I was already having a bad day. Then the topper, I saw a guy there who looked freakishly like Andy. I stared at him for about ten minutes, trying to discern whether or not it was him. It wasn't, but the whole thing shook me pretty badly, as I didn't know what I would've done if it had been him. Died, probably. But anyway, it rattled me, and I woud up crying the whole bus ride home. It was such agony. It was like everything inside me was screaming for him. It.....I won't go into it further, but it was just the most painful thing I've experienced so far. I asked Chuck if he would sit and talk to me for a bit, and of course he agreed, he's such a nice guy, and then proceeded to cry on his shoulder for the second time in less than four days. Mental instability, thy name is me. So yeah, safe to say I look like a nutcase, but he made me feel better. He's good at that.

The Faraday Lectures were today. After some intial, what-if-andy's-here panic, I relaxed a let myself enjoy it. It was like a really awesome magic show with all kinds of fire and explosions, and then plenty of explanations for why things go boom. Totally cool. And woohoo, I managed to have a cheeseburger, danish, root beer, and KFC chicken, without paying for anything. Go me and my powers of mooch. I also read The Hobbit in its entirety on the bus. NHS was tonight too. I'm now a torch-bearer of the light of the future, or some other such crap.

Thought about my new guy a lot today. Well, my new crush anyway.

Oh, new guy. You need a name. A nice, anonomyous one. How about Danny? I don't know anyone by that name, and it seems to fit you, so Danny it is. You're torturing me, you Danny-boy bastard. Every puppy-dog, tail-wagging glance at your girlfriend, slices through me, as I know you only talk to me when she isn't there. I'm the candle to be lit when her light fades. I'm okay with that for now, cause it isn't like you're doing it on purpose. You don't know how hard or how fast I'm falling for you. You don't know how badly I want to stamp her light from your life permantly, so you only need my glow. You don't know how stupid I feel for the metaphors I just blurted out. God, boy, you're going to start me in on poetry in a minute. Lord knows I've already been plotting stanzas. It's just unfair. You're so smart and so sweet and so handsome and so taken. You are, you know. Drop dead gorgeous and screw anyone who doesn't think so. I don't like to think that the attraction is becuase you're so much like him, but it probably is. But I like you for you, as well, and that's getting more and more potent with every passing day.

I need a date.

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

I'm sad.

Bush is going to win, I have an awful feeling about that. My wallet was stolen ($25, phone card, hot topic cards, and Soc. Sec. card inside). I'm sick. Tons of guilt has been piled on due to Model UN. The dress I wanted looks awful on me. And people are so mean. Honestly, I can't stand livejournal anymore. People attack you for things, and they don't know you. They have no right to judge, but they do, and they don't care how much it hurts. I don't do this to people, why must they do it to me? It's not fair. I just want to get over something that's very hard for me, and everyone keeps finding ways to twist the knife.

Like this:

Andy's gay. *laughs*

Honesty, I don't know whether to laugh hystercially, cry, or vomit. I don't know him anymore. Maybe I never did. And that's devastating. Who is he? He is not the person I fell in love with, that I still love, that I dated, that I wanted to marry. Either he's changed so drastically, or he....he lied to me. And that's so painful. He trashed me to other people while we were still together, too. Made me sound like a complete slut....Not my fault I was attracted to him. Not my fault I thought he returned the feeling. Not my fault I'm the only one who didn't think he dug guys. God.....why? Who is he? Where is the guy that wrote me beautiful letters, held me while I cried, always held my hand, was going to be my prom date, liked my cooking, whispered promises of love and forever, and always, always told me he loved me? What happened to him? And did I really drive him away? Oh, God.....

I never want to date again. Never. I mean, he was my first boyfriend. What a giant catastrophe that turned out to be.

I almost wish Michelle wouldn't tell me that stuff. I just want to let him go. Forget him. But no one lets me. Nothing does. Everything is just a catalyst to a memory...of him.

And you know what? Other people overheard Michelle tell me, and I even went to them and told them not to say anything about it. 'Cause no matter what I feel towards him right now, I don't want him to be hurt.

God, why does everyone think this is my fault? Why is everyone making Andy the victim? Why does everyone think I deserve this? All I get are I told you so's and blame. I don't deserve this, okay? The only thing you all can accuse me of is loving him. When did that become a sin?

And he might come back here. And I don't know what I'll do. I don't know if I could handle that. I don't know if I could look at him and see a stranger looking back.

I watched Buffy today, and cried, becuase I feel the same way Spike does. I just want someone to love me. For real. I want to be enough.

I have to stop. I can't see the keyboard anymore for tears.....

Between a broken nose and a fake smile
Between piety and gun powder
Between fighting and fleeing the scene
Between the murder and the normalacy
Between aggression and oblivion
Between the brutal and realistically well behaved
Between the screaming and the pulling in the reins
Between tiptoeing and ambling

What am i to do with all this fire?
(I'd like to hate you but I could never hate you)
Why are you still with me in this red space?
(I'd like to slap you but I could never slap you)

Between violence and silently seething
Between my fist and my pollyanna flower
Between forgetting (or fuck you to) your face and it's alright
Between war and denial

Between flying vases and secretly weeping
Between loose cannons and ever down playing
Between the bruises and the nobly differing
Between bursting and boiling
What am I to do with all this burning?
(I'd like to hurt you but I could never hurt you)
Do I overwhelm you in this place?
(I'd like to kill you but I could never kill you)

Between violence and silently seething
Between my fist and my pollyanna flower
Between forgetting (or fuck you to) your face and it's alright
Between war and denial

What am i to do with all this fire?
Can you understand me in this place?

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

You know what I realized the other day?

I'm okay.

My relationship with Andy is over. In virtually every way, shape, and form. After being with him for around nine months, and being in love with him for even longer, I have cut Andy Ryan Craig out of my life almost entirely. And I'm.....fine with it. I mean, it still kind of sucks and I'm still kind of sad, but I realize that it was most likely for the better, and I'm proud of myself for not allowing him to hurt me anymore. I'm proud of myself for calling it quits, rather than waiting to be dumped. I'm proud of myself for realizing that I deserve better than to be ignored and better than to be cheated on. I'm worth more than that, and Andy (as much as I did and still do love him) is not. He's not worth my self-hatred and pain. His excuses were not enough, and apologies, when they came, were always a little too hollow. Andy, for all of his wonderful qualities, is entirely too selfish. He is concerned only with himself and his life, and his melodramatic view of the world. And it just got to be too much to deal with. The bad outwieghed the good. Now I'm not saying I'm totally over it. It still sucks and still hurts and I still miss him. And yeah, seeing his picture isn't all that great, and yeah, hearing people talk about him isn't very fun, and yeah, being removed from his friends list still really stings. But it isn't as bad as it was. I no longer am crying at the slightest provocation. I no longer want to hurt myself. I no longer feel like something has been cut out of me. I no longer think of him at every single minute. I can think of him in the past, and smile. I can love who he was, though I resent who he has become. I can move on.

I'm okay.

I have no desire to date anybody, though, for a long time. I never did before Andy. I'm not one of those girls who has a boyfriend just to have a boyfriend. It's honestly the person that makes me desire a relationship. Remove the person, remove the desire. Fronz and my mom have both told me that I need to start dating guys, just dating, no relationships. Have fun. Don't get attached. Don't fall in love. But in my opinion, what's the point? That's not fun. That's something you do when you're lonely, and though I'm alone, I'm not lonely. Not really. So I think I'll be single for a while. Besides, for the first time, I'm a little insecure about my judgement in people. Go figure.

I didn't get registered for the SATs Friday. The awful site gave me such grief, I just gave up, and burst into tears of frustration. I missed the deadline for Dec. 4, flipped out on my mom, and got grounded. This prevented me from going and watching Monty Python with Tiff yesterday, we have yet to see if it will prevent me from going to Chuck's party tommorrow.

I spent nine hours yesterday reading Crime and Punishment. Nine hours. Oh my God. So, so boring. Totally fried my brain. I was supposed to work on all my Model UN stuff today, and I started it, and quit two hours later, with nothing accomplished. It is so hard. I swear. I don't understand anything about it, have no clue where to start. Totally lost. I'm to ask Mrs. Hughes about it tommorrow, skip first and second period and do it with her help. While I really don't want to look as it I need her to hold my hand, I can't do it by myself. Why oh why did I sign up for this stupid thing? If I didn't want it on my transcripts so bad, I'd quit in a heartbeat. Maybe I can just get a diminished role or something. I don't know, we have a meeting after school tommorrow. All I know is that I'm not working on it anymore today, tears of frustration are welling up again, and I'm already exhausted, not to mention I still have other things to do. I don't need the agitation right now.

The play is this Thursday and Friday. I'm not really nervous, but I'm very excited. I take that back, I am nervous, just not about myself. I'm nervous about everyone else. But that's how it always is with me. I know I can control myself and my actions, but I can't control other people's, so I'm always afraid they'll bollocks it up. 

How 'bout I took a serial killer quiz, and I came out to be the Son of Sam. Weird.

Ah, well.

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

Well, yeah. Registered for the SAT today. Blah. Hate that site. I had to fill out the questionairre about thirty different times because the stupid thing kept popping up and asking for my password. It then proceed to erase all of my answers, and make me fill it out again! So incredibly frustrating. Honestly, if I knew it was going to be that hard, I would have just mailed in an application. Gah. Who said the Internet made life easier?!

So it seems everyone (or maybe just my mom) thinks I'm a ho. Everytime I even mention something about a guy to her, it's all "you flirt too much" and "you shouldn't be acting like that". Why not? Why can't I flirt? It's not like I'm attached to someone. I'm a free agent now. There are cute guys that I'm interested in. Just what is wrong with that? What's wrong with a little hugging and complimenting and, well, flirting? Nothing. Honestly. and then the whole thing with *****. I'm not stupid. I know he has a girlfriend. I know he isn't interested in me. I know nothing's going to happen. I would never try to make something happen while he's with someone. I'm not him. But I can still like him. I can still e-mail and talk to him. Hug him. Hell, even flirt a little. I know the affections aren't returned, and I can settle for being his friend. Liking him, crushing on him even, does not make me a bad person.

Honestly, I'm going to kill that stupid SAT site.

More later.

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

I've spent the past hour, after giving up on my math homework, reading e.e. cummings and wishing for a Billie Holiday record to make the situation a tad more Perks. I settled for Ella Fitzgerald, which is really not settling at all. I've been trying to calm my nerves about tomorrow, in hopes of getting some semblance of sleep tonight. The last six years of my life have led up to this, have been passed in anxious anticipation for the very event I get to take place in tommorrow night.

I'm going to see Green Day.

Now to some, this would not seem a great, life-changing experience. But to me, it is the zenith of my punk career. Green Day is my band, the one I place above all others, the one I've obessessively worshipped for six years, and the one whom, up until tommorrow night, I have never seen in concert. This band changed my ideals, gave me an outlet both emotionally and creatively; emphasized, empathized, and echoed so many of my thoughts, values, turn-ons, turn-offs. And I get to see them live. I get to see Billie Joe sings, and see Mike Dirnt, my inspiration for wanting to pick up a bass at all, play live. I get to see Green Day. It is still a fact that has not yet sunk in.

Now, seeing A New Found Glory for the 3rd time.......that's sunk in. And I can not wait.

Angela visited over the weekend. I didn't get to spend much time with her, only an hour or so, but it was as if she never had left. Until...she left. And that was when it hit me, hugging her as tight as I could before I got out of the car, how much I miss her. How much I'm going to miss her. She was such a huge part of my life in this place in a way I don't think I could fully communicate to her, and just the lack of her presence is painful. I love her to death, she's like the sister I never had and not seeing her is seriously just....awful. I can't wait til she visits again, and I can spend an entire day with her. Counting the days til Thanksgiving......

My mom bought me stress pills today. She said they were vitamins. I dont' know why everyone seems to have this belief that I'm caving under stress all the time. I mean, sure, things are a little....pressured...right now, but hey, I like it that way. Keeps me busy and keeps the adreniline pumping.

Well, I got to go get a shower, so I'll talk to you all again on Wed. night.

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

It's not fair.

I can feel myself starting to fall, and it's not fair, because I can't, not for him. He's unattainable. I can't have him and no matter how obvious that may be, I can feel myself getting drawn in. And I can't do this. I can't, because I'm already in pieces from him and any pursuit on my part would just be me getting kicked while I'm down. But....it just feels so natural. So easy, and logical, and I can see myself with him. I mean, my god, I almost tried to hold his hand today. We had our arms linked, just fooling around, and everything in me screamed for me to twine my fingers with his, and I actually started to. If he hadn't been holding his keys in that hand, I might have.

Goddamn it, why is this happening to me? As Tiffany put it, I'm always attracted to the ones that are either bad for me, or already taken. I just....more and more of me wants for him to look at me like he looks at her. For anyone to look at me that way. Why can't I have that?  I don't want to fall in this trap I've been flirting with, though. That of being scared to be alone. Of not being able to be alone. I don't need that. I don't want to need that. But I really miss it.

I feel like I'm falling apart. Crying when love songs come on the radio, wanting to scream everytime I see two people kissing. I'm just a torrent of emotions that I can't deal with, and there is no one there to help me. I'm itching to feel loved again. I haven't felt that way in a long time. Months. I want a boy to look at me like I'm the end all and be all of his world. I'd like to have an equal in that aspect. I'd like my love to be matched. I'd like to know what that feels like.

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

*sniff, sniff* My computer monitor died. Seriously, I turned it on, and it went all "comp. on PCP" flashed some technicolor images and went black. It's not fair! It was fine Saturday night/Sunday morning! Stupid piece of junk!! *sniff* No livejournal. No fic. No Internet period. Then how am I writing this, you ask? *sniff* School library. This sucks.

So, yeah, this was just to let those of you who read my livejournal know why I won't be posting for a while, unless it's a shortie from in school. I have no idea how I'm going to survive. Blah.

I feel awful today. I look like crap, I feel like crap. I cornered Sachem and asked him if I looked as awful as I felt, and he said no. But I think he was lying. I wouldn't have gotten mad at him if he had said yes. I know I do. Honestly, I don't know how I let myself look like this for three years in Middle School. What was wrong with me? Was my self-esteem that bad? I don't want to think so.

Crime and Punishment is making my head hurt. Too many characters with long names that I can't pronounce. Usually that isn't a problem, but I don't know. The Russian stuff is just getting to me for some reason.

You know, I think I need to stop making assumptions. I've been proved wrong about quite a few people lately, and though it's surprising, it's humbling as well. Maybe I'm being a little too judgemental. Gah. I hate when I realize I'm wrong.

Hey, just cause I'm curious, who left the comment in my defense on his livejournal. I kind of want to know who you are, as seeing that someone thought that about me made me feel very warm and fuzzy-like. So if you could just drop a line.............

Du you think I should change my moniker? It came from something a friend said to me about him, how are relationship was like sacrificing the butterfly to save the spider. Came out to be a little more true than I ever wanted it to be, but..........I don't know, what do you think?

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

Ahh... Smallville fic is good for the soul. Oh the wonder of Clark and Lex. The show is worthless, as the aforementioned superhero treats the aforementioned bald guy like something he scraped off his shoe, like he's a commodity to be used and discarded, never to be thanked, only to be suspected, but I digress. It's weird, though. I've been reading a lot more fic lately. More than I have in quite a while. It's starting to distract from my studies, but I figure it is currently a coping mechanism, and thusly will soon dampen itself to a bearable compulsion, rather than an irresitible urge.

I gave Dave my e-mail address.  No contact as of yet.

I'm am so unbeliveably cold. My fingers feel like they're about to fall off. Brrr.

You'll notice I'm trying to tame my language. I'm doing so for my papa, who flipped a lid when he found out about my livejournal, and gave me the ultimatum of deleting it, or watching my words. Eventually, he calmed down and recinded the threat, and just asked in a very tired voice if I would please not use the vulgarity. And while he has no way to enforce that, I feel I'll do him the ocurtesy of trying.  So....yeah.

Pier 1 is my friend. It and the Bombay Co. contain everything I love in home decor. Everything is just so pretty, and whimsical and oh, God, the cherry wood. Love. I spent a couple hours just wondering around, sitting in the chairs, smelling the candles, looking at the wine glasses....it was great. Would have been better if I could've bought something, but such is life.....or at least mine. 

I'm tired, and I don't want to write more, and I want to get back to my fic, so.......night y'all.

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

God love and bless hot British men. I could watch (listen to) Paul Bettany for hours, to be sure. Beautiful, beautiful man. Gorgeous blue eyes, great bum, accent I could melt in. Deep breaths, ladies. The whole thing reminds me of something my mom told me.

"I don't think I want you to go to Europe."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm afraid you'd sleep with any Irish/Birtish man who talked to you."

"What?!"

"Well, you're a sucker for the accent."

Gah, thanks for the vote of confidence. But I don't know, she's kind of right. It's a weakness, but a fun one. I kind of like to test out the theory someday. Nummy, nummy Englishmen. Thank you, A Knight's Tale. Such a slashy film, by the way. Some of the moments between Chaucer and Will, or Chaucer and Wat......they make my breath catch, and my heart skip a beat. Grrrr.....

There is also nothing more lovely than seeing an attractive boy with painted nails. It never ceases to make my day. Tony had them done at practice today, while sporting a Ramones t-shirt. It warmed my heart, let me tell you. Seeing Dave with his collar on also gave me a pleasent little twinge. Boys are so beautiful sometimes. So pretty to look at. A waste of time to engage most often, but definately nice to look at.

I don't know, after watching A Knight's Tale, listening to the commentary of Fellowship of the Ring, and looking at pictures of Billie Joe on the Internet, I'm a little horny.

Oh, and speaking of LOTR, how about the extended edition of RotK will have 50 minutes of bonus footage (!), including the spat between Saruman and Gandalf, Merry's knighting, Pip and Faramir, and romance in the Houses of Healing. You LOTR fans know of what I speak. Not to mention 20 frickin' hours of behind the scenes footage. Woohoo!

Bah.

Tubby knocked me down in practice today. I took quite the spill. That's one of the funniest things about plays. Everybody, no matter the part, gets hurt at some point. Without fail.

Wow, and how about I spent half of my day in the guidance office, trying to convince them that, yes, I do qualify for National Honors Society, and yes, they made a mistake, and yes, they better fix it. And it turned out I was right. Hah, go me and my grade-grubbing. Seriously, I'll try to get points from stone. Much harder than blood sometimes. But this time, it was totally legit, and I saved myself from losing out on NHS for a whole year, due to their mistake.

The phrase grade-grubbing reminded me of this movie I watched the other day, Welcome to the Dollhouse. I started to watch, but turned it off about a half hour into it, as the middle school flashbacks it prompted were far too real and vivid for my liking. God, middle school was such a nightmare.

I think I'm doing a very good job dealing (or ignoring it, as it were), don't you agree? Other than some all too appropritate No Doubt music, of course.

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

my foundation was rocked, my tried and true way to deal was to vanish
my departures were old, I stood in the room shaking in my boots

at that particular time love had challenged me to stay
at that particular moment I knew not to run away again
that particular month I was ready to investigate with you
at that particular time

we thought a break would be good; for four months we sat and vacillated
we thought a small time apart would clear up the doubts that were abounding

at that particular time love encouraged me to wait
at that particular moment it helped me to be patient
that particular month we needed time to marinate in what "us" meant                                                                  at that particular time                                                                                                                                   
I've always wanted for you what you've wanted for yourself
and yet I wanted to save us high water or hell
and I kept on ignoring the ambivalence you felt
and in the meantime I lost myself
in the meantime I lost myself
I'm sorry I lost myself                                                                                                                                   I am

you knew you needed more time, time spent alone with no distraction
you felt you needed to fly solo and I dutified what you wanted                                                                            

at that particular time love encouraged me to leave
at that particular moment I knew staying with you meant deserting me
that particular month was harder than you'd believe but I still left
at that particular time

Good bye, Andy

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

I want to die.

My little mood caricature is oh so appropo, as I feel like my face is on fire. Hello fever and flu pills. I'm been so sick for about three days now, and I honestly just want to crawl up in a corner and die somewhere. Phlegm is icky, dammit. And to top all the sickness off, it's that time of the month as well. Suck, suck, suck. Suckfest 2004.

I haven't listened to Weezer in, like, forever. I was trying to think of a subject, and those lyrics just popped into my head, so I shoved the Blue Album into my cd player, and am now contentedly listening to Rivers croon in my ear. They seriously won my heart at the mention of Nightcrawler and Kitty Pryde in one of their songs. How cool? Nerd rock forever. Oh, how I love emo.

I finally got my sexy blazer that I've been wanting for over a month. It's so.....peachy. There are laces up the arms and up the back, and I look very donminatrix-like in it. It's so soft and comfy and sexy and the best forty dollars I've ever made my mom spend. *grins* I decorated it with my Ataris pin, and two others I took off my purse. (I took all my buttons off my purse after losing three of the suckers. And how about I found the damn Hello Kitty pin, but have permanently lost the Pink Flamingo one. How is life fair? While we're on the subject, Jan is a meaney, and methinks I'm going to do something evil to her at practice.)

I don't know what to do about schoolwork, honestly I don't. I'm trying so hard to make up for doing absolutely nothing my sophmore and freshman years. But I feel like I'm seriously on the edge of a burnout. I have to read Crime and Punishment for Jones, as well as do research on the law and prosecution for another project of hers (Beowolf, gakkk), try to finish the remaining six hundred pages of Atlas Shrugged, start on a story for Mrs. Serock as I'm now doing Independent Study with her for Creative Writing, reasearch NATO for Model United Nations, write poetry for my Senior Project, study for the first Academic League meet, memorize lines for the play, study for the PSATs Wednesday, study to get my permit, and start on my essays and work samples for my Pennsylvania's Governer's School applications. As well as maintain a perfect 4.0 for another year. I just want to say fuck it all and fail. But I can't because this is my junior year, and college is fast approaching and I need to figure out where I want to go and score high on the PSATs and get into a Good College. It's just so stressful. I mean, if every thing goes to plan, my first three years of highschool will look like this:

Freshman Year: Gifted, musical (Once Upon A Mattress, was on stage for five minutes, but was stage manager), middle of the road to okay grades, Spanish, no Honors classes, accelerated math, no extra-curricular activities to speak of

Sophmore Year: no Gifted, Dinner Theatre (Rome Is Where the Heart Is, slightly bigger part), 4.0, German, Honors English, still in accerlerated math, still no extra-curriculars

Junior Year ( as of now, and what I plan to do): Gifted, Fall Play (A Face on the Barroom Floor, big part, olio), 4.0, German and Spanish, accelerated math, Honors English, Honors Chemistry, German Club, Academic League: JV, Model UN, Independent Study: Creative Writing, Interact Club, PennState Honors Program, National Honors Society, Debate Team, Dinner Theatre, and hopefuly, selection into The Pennsylvania Governer's School for the Arts: Creative Writing

And just for fun, Senior Year: Gifted, all plays, 4.0 German and Spanish, Academic Leauge Varsity, all other extra-curricular activites listed above, AP English, AP Chem, AP History if it's offered, AP Calc (maybe), and a freakin' brilliant senior project.

This will hopefully be my home run year. That, or I'll pull a mental muscle, and be out of commission. But I have to start applying at the end of this year and I have to take my SATs and the ACT. I'm trying for an 800 verbal, 700 math, and 800 writing, if the test I have to take involves writing. I'd like to get over a 30 on the ACT and ace, whatever that takes, the PSSAs. So much to do, so little time, and it all reminds me of something Mrs. Jones said to me the other day. She said that I reminded her of herself in highschool. Same clothes, same "smarts", except.....I was much more motivated than she was. I wasn't quite sure how to take that, so I guess I'll take it as a good thing. That's me, Miss Motivated. Then why do I just want to quit?

Ugh.

My personal life bites right now, as well. I want someone to call me. I mean, I could talk to someone if I wanted to, call Richie or Alex, well not Richie, his band has a gig, or Angela or Beckie or Kristen or Courtney or Charles or.....well, no, not Andy. But I'm just tired of pursuing all the time. Is it too much to ask to be pursued? To have someone chase me down for my attention? I'm tired of always feeling like I'm forcing myself on people. I want people to desire to spend time with me. I'm tired of settling for what little attention I can rip out of them. It's like being fed just enough to be kept from dying. I can't complain I'm not being fed, but it's never enough. I'm still hungry.

I guess the most inmportant news of the week, though, is that I'm moving. Yep, we're finally getting out of my Grandma's house. Not far away or anything, just to Fairchance, but into a nice little duplex that my mom and dog can't live with us in. But my mom is looking at an apartment that might be okay for her, that's only a block away. But I get my own room again. My own walls to hang my posters on. I get my own closet, and a claw-footed bath tub, and an overhead light. Things which sound so trivial have seemed like out of reach luxeries for my family over the past year. God knows when I'll get a bed or any furniture, but hey, a house is a start right? I'm not sure when we move in, but I imagine it'll be soon. We're getting the gas and phone and cable turned on Tuesday, I think, and after that, it's just a matter of time.

Switching to Green Day now...........

I'm looking at pictures of the Orchard Farm Band in another window. Beckie, in her same leopard printed shirt I've seen her wear so many millions of times. Another one of her passed out on the bus. I miss band a lot sometimes. I was hardcore band geek for three years, and it's still in me. And admittedly, I get more of a thrill being onstage during the play, but it's still weird to go to school concerts, and be in the audience rather than part of the main event. I miss playing an instrument, being in touch with that part of art, 'cause god knows I never could draw. I wish I had more pictures of my friends, recent ones. I still seem to be stuck thinking of them in 9th grade. I mean, Courtney's 17 now and Beckie and Kristen will both be 17 in another month. Charles is 19, in his sophmore year of college. It's just all so weird. I don't want to go on my Senior Trip. I'd rather take that money and go on a trip with my firends somewhere. I'll always hate that I didn't get to graduate with them, and maybe that will ease the hurt a little.

For pics of my friends, go here:

Beckie: http://www.ofsd.k12.mo.us/hs/finearts/band/Student%20Pages/Beckie.html

Kristen: http://www.ofsd.k12.mo.us/hs/finearts/band/Student%20Pages/Kristen.html

Courtney's not in band, so sorry.

Ironically, the Gifted Education page at dear old OFHS has been "under construction" since I left. Aren't they supposed to be the samrt ones?

I guess it's good that I'm not going to Andy's tomorrow, as I spent most of today waiting for him to call (pathetic, I know) and didn't get anything done. Tomorrow will probably go the same, but I'll try my best not to let it be. The whole thing just hurts. I wish he was still here. I haven't seen him for over a month, and this whole thing is going just the way I though it would. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

I just.....I swear, today, I called him and his mom answered, and she said he was still sleeping. I asked her if she could tell him to call me, and she asked if this was Dori. To which I answered with a weak, "no, this is _____". Logically, I know it was probably because he's taking Dori to that whole Homecoming thing tonight, so she expected it to be her, but I don't know.....my heart seriously dropped into my shoes. It really hurt. Really. And it makes me wonder if that thing in his journal was to me at all. It makes my head ache as well as my heart. I'm so unhappy, and I know some jerk will leave a comment about how he or she is sick of "whiney, depressed kids" but I am, so blah to you all.

I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight, I think. Maybe watch CSI.

This turned out to be much longer than I thought it would be. I guess I just need something to pour my heart into, and livejournal is serving that purpose nicely.

How lame is it that I have a mental list of slash classics?

For example:

Spike/Xander: Chocolatey Goodnees by Mad Poetess

Nick/Greg: One Good Man by geekwriter

Draco/Harry: So many good ones, if you know where to look, but for the life of me I can't remember their names

Zeke/Casey: Void by wax jism, Delilah is in it a lot, but that's okay I guess

There are so many more out there, but a lot of them I can't remember the names of off the top of my head. I could have a serious recommendation list going, though, with all the stuff I've read. There are a lot of rules to what makes good fan fiction. Saying so makes me feel like Rob from High Fidelity with his little lecture on compilation tapes, but it's true. The following are my pieces of advice generated by my knowledge as an experienced and seasoned reader. So don't read my stuff and crucify me for being a hypocrite. My belief in the importance and correctness of the following things is one of the reasons I really don't write fan fic anymore. It's really frickin' hard.

If you're writing fan fiction, the biggest and best compliment you can give to the fandom and the readers is to DO YOUR HOMEWORK! Know as much as you possibly can about the show, dialogue, storylines, and reference and incorperate these things into your fic. It makes the whole thing seem more real, and lends an element of believeability to whichever storyline you decide to follow. This is very helpful when writing slash, as it will allow you to find little pieces of evidence to back up and re-enforce your pairing, which is something you definately have to do. Repeatedly. There's nothing worse that having, lets say, Spike and Xander, two characters who hate one another in the show get together and chalk it up to the fact that "they acted like they hated each other to hide the fact that they really liked each other." That reason's fine, but there has to be more than that behind it, otherwise it just seems like a plot device. Too convienient. Along the same line, study the characters. Making yourself familiar with their patterns of speech and action will also lend to more realness of everything. Great examples of this can be found in Mad Poetess' Chocolatey Goodness and geekwriter's One Good Man, as well as many brilliant others. When your reader has to think hard to separate the story from the show, book, or movie, you've accomplished your objective.

And so many people would think, well, then how do you do AUs? AUs are a very tricky thing. The best way to do an AU, I think, is to really be true to the characters, even if you're putting them in different situations with different backgrounds. If you stray too far from the character or fandom, you aren't writing fan fiction anymore, you're just ripping off the names and appearences. If your story is brilliantly written, scintilating, and all around a work of art, this can be excused. For example, take the Lord of the Rings fic, A Doubt of Memory, Perchance Sanity. Parts of it were totally out there, but it was such a work of art, one didn't even mind. But for new writers, I would just suggest staying somewhat close to the fandom. Like another LOTR fic, Promises, where it is about the reincarnated versions of Merry and Pip. Allows for orginality, but still acknowledges the canon. Or, another way to go about it, is to use the actual movie, book, or episode, and have the events veer off in a different direction. Or have alternate endings. Or use a little known character with no background to have free reign with. (Think Mouse in the Matrix) There are plenty of ways to write an awesome AU, so there's no excuse for writing a bad one, my comrades!

Last piece of advice on this subject is for the writers of the First Times. These are my faves; I'm not too fond of the established relationships. But the most important thing for anyone writing a first time is this: DON'T RUSH IT!!!!!!! Please, please, PLEASE don't have them suddenly realize they've had feelings for one another all along and confess their undying love in the FIRST FREAKING CHAPTER!!!! Draw it out! Have complications! Make them stew! If you want to pair them up sexually early in the fic, go ahead, just don't let them fall in love yet. Make your readers wait for and anticipate something. If you're going to have them fall madly in luuuuuurve in the first two paragraphs, and move on to another plot line, then please do us all a favor and make it an established realtionship, rather than disappointment the die-hard romantics like myself out there.

Yeah, so that was my impromptu essay on How to Write Good Fan Fiction.

This jounral entry is a monstrosity.

I just need to talk tonight. Write, whatever. I just don't now what to do after I write this, so why stop?

In the Green Day song Holiday, the line where he says, "bang, bang goes the broken glass now", I think that is a reference to gay marriage. The broken glass being a reference to a Jewish wedding, where the groom stomps on a glass. The two bangs indicate two grooms, aka gay marriage. At least, that's my take. Green Day is so pro-homosexuality, and I love them for it. Among the ten million other reasons why I love them.

Someone just left a comment on Andy's livejournal saying he was in an accident. I really hope he's okay. Not that I'll be able to find out. But.....oh, shit, I'm scared now. Fuck, I hope he's alright. I don't know what I'd do if he was hurt. Shit, shit, shit.

I think I'm going to go try and call him. He probably won't answer, but I should try.

Thanks for listening.

save-the-spider

MY GREEN DAY TICKETS CAME TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!

It's so sweet. There are Green Day tickets in my house. In my Spanish phrase book for safe-keeping. They say Green Day. And they have green trim. I want to explode from pure ecstasy, I swear. I've had a giant grin on my face ever since they arrived in the mail. Gah. Green Day. The past five years of my life have led up to this. Woohoo!

Also, Tiffany told me that the Return of the King Extended Edition comes out Dec. 15. Yay, yay, yay! Merry! Pippin! Legolas in a drinking game! I mean, finally, I've been waiting for this since, like, May. Stupid movie people and their need to wait til the Christmas season, so they can make as much money as possible. Milking the cash cow. Awful. But yay, again, 'cause now I at least have a date to look forward to.Ah, Lord of the Rings is so of the good.

I dyed my hair last night. Not a "cool" color like pink or anything, just a bright red. The official color name is Sunset Blaze. Yeah. I like it though. It's muy sexy. Yeah, that's some Spanglish for you. But I am indulging in a bit of vanity regarding my appearance since the Dye Job. My hair and I can now be friends again. I have accepted it back into my good graces.

I did the whole Academic League field trip to KDKA things Saturday ( I got a key-chain) and had a great time. I tried to pay attention to the match from my place in the audience, and to answer the questions to myself. We ate a Panera (sp?) Bread, which was good once I found something to eat I recognized. Also got about 50 pages of Atlas Shrugged read during the bus ride up. But the overall good thing was just being around the "smart kids". I mean, how many school field trips does one spend talking to someone about the origins of the Judeo-Christian religions, and how their influence in a country affect the possible establishment of democracy, and then dive into a disccusion about Immanuel Kant, while the rest of the students argue over your head about whether or not America is an empire and why. It was....exhilarating. And so fun.

I probably read around a hundred pages or more of Atlas Shrugged over the weekend, and really, I love that book. It's such a masterpiece. I just wish Ayn Rand would make it a trilogy or something, so I could feel like I accomplished something after four-hundred odd pages, rather than just knowing I have six hundred more to go. Bleh.

I gotsa new button. Hello Kitty bit the dust. Good riddance, you little shitbag. 

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

Wow.

I think I'm going through some kind of personal renaissance. A lot of ideas and 'values' I previously upheld and reveled in now seem rather pointless and somewhat stupid. Call it maturity, call it changing my mind, call it PMS, whatever. The fact that it's happening remains irregardless.

Ex. The more 'alternative' kids I see, the more the whole thing makes me want to fucking vomit. Because they're all the same. Dyed black hair, black T-shirts, black nails, as much metal in their faces as they can get, Chuck Taylors, black jelly-bracelets. They're all trying so hard to be non-conformists, but they're conforming in their brand of non-conformity. I don't see how it's any different than the carbon-copies that come out of the Gap, and I'm wondering how much a part of it I want to be anymore. And the worst is, I think that's how I'm coming off. I do and own all mentioned above (except piercings and black hair). Does that mean I'm just another stamp on the express lane? 'Cause I went down this path to be the opposite of that, and I would hate to think I wound up that way regardless. I don't know, this all just hit me after visiting the new Hot Topic a couple of hours ago.

I'm just searching for a way to be me, and I'm not going to get that by looking like every other Dick, Jane, and Sid. And who am I? I'm a geek; a comic-book nerd with a dry wit and smart mouth. I'm a brain, a liberal, a performer, a problem. I'm also sexy, with an intense appreciation for fashion in an artistic sense. I'm masculine, but a little too feminine. I'm satisfied, but still starving. I'm together, but all too alone.

How do you fit that into a T-shirt and jeans?

You don't. And that's the problem.

I guess I'm just very disillusioned with the whole deal as of late. It didn't end up giving me what I had sought from it. I'm tired of looking for a group to belong with, and being accepted with folded arms and shallow motivations. The only person I'm like is me, and it sucks. I guess I have to ditch this whole idea of finding a soulmate, friend-wise. The search is just too futile and too masochistic. There is no 'one true friend'. I can only have bits and pieces. (no intended slur on any of my current friends) And I hate that I have to put it, but I don't want to face the consequences of ommitting it.

I look in the mirror, and I'm not quite sure who it is I see anymore. And for the first time, Andy, I have an understanding of the whole searching for yourself thing. 'Cause I think I lost me somewhere, or that I've been replaced in my mind with an upgraded version or something. I really don't know what.

I just feel very out of place in my own skin anymore. Edgy, kind of. Uncomfortable. I don't feel....right, like there is some big elephant sitting in the corner of my mind, and I just now noticed him. It's like I totally missed something vitally important about myself, and I really don't like it.

Everything is just so much harder with you gone, Andy. I can't even describe it, it's just like......a piece of me is missing, and I don't know what to do without it.

Part of me doesn't want to eat anymore, the rest just wants to take a whole bottle of Tylenol.

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

p.s. I wrote this in my notebook first by flashlight. How cool? 

American Idiot is in my cd player.

It is the most fucking awesome thing I have ever listened to. It's so different, yet so the same. Green Day will always continue to amaze me with their ability to re-invent themselves time and again, and never lose their quality. In this ability, they far surpass any other punk band, including the Clash. The lyrics are so brilliant, the songs haunting, and the whole thing is just a sensory overload. I want to scream and cry at the same time, it's so moving. They are undeniably geniuses. True artists, in every sense of the word. So genuine, and unique, and I really don't think they'll ever go away. Unlike other bands who started out with a similar style as Green Day, Billie, Mike, and Tre have the talent, the intelligence, the creativity, and the depth to go above and beyond anyone else. They are at a point where their only rival is themselves. This album is by far their masterpiece. Gorgeous. I'm shaking just listening to it. The resonance is incredible, Billie Joe's beautiful voice combined with guitar, bass, and drums.....each song leaves you with chills. I don't even know how I'm going to be able to handle them live. Best piece of music I've ever bought.

Ugh.

My feet are aching. I've been on them non-stop since 2:00. Today got a whole lot better after my last post. Well, the remainder of school sucked, but then came the pep rally. And I just screamed out all my frustration and anger and disappointment. Not cheering or anyting, but using that time to just basically scream "Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!" to everyone I was pissed at. This left me with enough of a rush to act all manic/psycho comic relief at play practice, as is customary. But the combination of the heat, exhaustion, and incredible release caused me to play it up a bit more than usual. After practice, I went home and got a shower, then headed out to the mall to meet Liz. I had asked her and few others if they wanted to go the mall and just hang out or whatever (she ended up being the only one to show up). I just wanted to hang out with someone, ecspecially Liz, and this seemed like a perfect oppurtunity.So I got dropped off there, and while looking for her, I ran into Randy and Tim, which was kind of cool. I walked around with them and talked for a while, till I spotted Liz, then we all parted our separate ways.

Liz is just so cool, and so easy to talk to. There wasn't a lack in the conversation for three hours, and honestly, I've missed that sort of easy banter. I hope we can hang out again sometime soon.

I picked up a new book, after an agonizing 20 mintues of browsing Walden's lit section. It's called Brave New World, and the sales guy said if I liked 1984, I would probably like this one. I also got a comic, Astonishing X-men, and holy fuck, Colossus is BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Woohoo! And Joss Whedon (Buffy) wrote it. How cool? The only weird thing was how they made Beast look. All funny and cat-like.

I gave Jan impromptu lessons in kung-fu today. Oh, yeah, I rock.

This applying for Hot Topic thing keeps turning over and over in my mind. Gah, I don't know what to do.

My tickets haven't arrived yet. I'm getting nervous.

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider

Things are so fucking suck-ass right now.

I'm sitting here in the library, skipping out on German because I've already done all the work. I could be a freaking week ahead if I wanted to. The class is just too damn easy, and not where I want to be right now. I'm debating on whether or not to go to lunch, as I'll have to give Richie his cd back (i can't pay for it) and Alex will attempt to cheer me up. I don't want to be cheered-up. I want to wallow in this misery that has encompased all of me, and I really don't want to stay for practice.

All this was brought on by last night (damn the Hallmark channel and Wynona Rider) and I'm still left over in the funk. I cried for the first time last night, locked myself in the bathroom and tore things up. Looked for something I didn't want to find, and was upset when that's what happened. Listened to my parents scream at each other for the millioneth fucking time. Sole highlight of the evening was watching the new eppy of CSI and, of course, reading Nick/Greg shit. I'm just mildly obessed.

Tyler accidentally punched Tony in practice.

I need some kind of distraction from......life, I guess. I need somebody, not just anybody. Help. (yes, I'm quoting the Beatles. what the fuck are you going to do about it?) The first person to come to mind isn't there, and there is no runner up. Figures, right? Who the fuck would want to talk to me anyway?

I need my Perks of Being A Wallflower book in a bad way right now. That also, is inaccessable.

God fucking dammit. Why can't I just let it go?

Thanks for listening,

save-the-spider