Pita! Pita! Pita!

More Tragedy
You guys know by now I rarely write unless something signifigant happened, especially something sad. Well, three kids died last night in a car wreck. They went to my high school. My sister and her friends knew them. I never knwe them, period. The police think they were drag racing. They were driving at over 100 MPH on a dangerous road that was under construction, hit the curb, bounced off, and slammed into a tree. The car completely fell apart. This happened some time in the early morning hours, and the bodies weren't found until 7:30 AM. I'm beside myself with grief, because we've lost so many familiar faces to tragedy at that school. Two students killed themselves within six months in 2000, the calculus teacher (who was a friend of mine) died of cancer, the calculus teacher who followed her committed suicide this summer, and now this. It's not fair. Save for the cancer death, every single one of these deaths didn't have to happen. Now it's too late and we've lost them for good.

At the Verge tonight, we held a discussion. The regular newspaper wanted teen reaction to the wreck, and they wrote down some of our statements and tape-recorded the entire thing. The Verge itself will be running a tribute. I'll link to it when it comes up. Sorry, I really can't write anymore. I've managed not to cry over this all day, but just writing this and thinking about how many people I've lost is too overwhelming. I'm sorry.
Wednesday, July 10, 2002
12:26 a.m.

Bitter Woman
Okay, I promise I'll try to write in this more frequently. I just felt like sharing this letter with the world, seeing as how I can't respond to the lady personally. She keeps sending The Verge (the teen section I write for-the link is above) e-mails telling us that we're whining, sniveling brats. Usually, her letters seem to be responding to something in the section, but this one doesn't reference anything in particular. I think she needs some mental help or something, or at least a new hobby. If she has no money to pay her bills, though, why does she keep wasting money on newspaper that she seems to hate readng? Also, she seems to be advocating that parents throw their kids out of their house at 14. Hello, at least in my state, if you don't leave with a parent or legal guardian, then you can't go to school! Meaning no diploma and only the most low-paying jobs availible. Sorry, she riles me up. Read on.
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Is it even within your power to imagine how tired we responsible adults are of hearing you whine "we have it so much tougher today"? I doubt it.

Your complaints are so trivial. Your snivelling is so predictable. You are such clueless cowards.

You go ballistic over being limited to five hours of phone and internet a day. Try having your phone cut off and having to make emergency calls from a pay phone at 2 am.

You take two-hour showers to make up for the days you forgot to bathe. It would be funny to see you without running water at all, because some idiot cut the pipe and you can't convince the water company to own up to their screwup. And no, there are no sodas in the house, either.

Electric bill? What's that? More than you make in a month, that's what.

Rent? Gas, twice a week?!? INSURANCE? REPAIRS?!?!?! But, but -- those are OLD people's problems! Not us teens! Teens have such a tough life! Pimples! Jeans that aren't in style! Not having a cool party! Not having a cool date! Gods FORBID not having a date at all!

Parents, do your kids a favor. Make it clear at age 14 or so that they are not so many months from meeting the real world head on. If they want to live at home, they're about to find out what an "allowance" means - that you will allow them a shelter in exchange for fair rent and their own expenses, so long as they obey house rules. If they don't like the rules, then they won't be the first people sleeping on the ground. And if they think there's an easy way to pay the bills by taking things that they haven't earned, then the county will gladly pay for their room and board, but the rules are rather stricter in prison.

Kids, quit your (complaining). No one in the history of the planet has had it so easy as you crybaby coddled little wimps.
Monday, March 25, 2002
09:15 a.m.

Sledge-o-matic!
Yep, I lagged on updates, but felt that it's about darn time I updated. Why? Because I have now had several little brushes with fame, that's why!

First, I wrote an editorial entitled "Not Me Generation Shifts Blame," talking of how I felt that within the last decade, nobody wants to take responsibility for their own actions ("Whose fault is this?" "Not ME!"). I just saw it as a wild rant, but apparently, many people agreed with it, because I have now seen two letters printed in the paper praising it and one that was sent through my school. I guess I hit a chord somewhere. Cool. Maybe I should be thinking about becoming the next Dave Barry!

Now, for my other brush with fame. Watermelon-smashing comedian Gallagher just performed here last night, and I had no idea what I was in for. All I knew was how much he liked smashing fruits and vegetables with a sledgehammer (in particular, watermelons.) In fact, when I got there, the entire ground level of seats was covered in plastic. My mom had refused to buy tickes there because she, being sane, could not see why I would want to be covered in fruit parts. So, at the beginning of the show, I was in Row HH, wayyyyy up in the balcony and able to see the action on a jumbo screen. But wouldn't you know, after Gallagher had been on for about ten minutes, he noticed many empty seats in the front section and just invited any kids in the audience who wanted them to come down. Needless to say, I did. So, skipping ahead about two hours, it was time for Gallagher to end the show with the traditional Sledge-o-matic. There was quite a twist, though-he called all the kids who had a birthday up on the stage, obviously meaning that every kid in the front section was allowed up stage. So, I climbed up stage and gathered around the table as he smashed three birthday cakes, one at a time, with a sledgehammer. Yes, I was being covered by frosting and cake particles in front of SEVERAL THOUSAND PEOPLE! On a jumbo screen! But it got better, when out came the pie tins he'd filled during the course of the shw with all sorts of crazy food groups that should probably not be mixed. He had us line up and we, one by one, were given the sledgehammer and allowed to smash them. When he ran out of tins, he brought on the watermelons, which is where I come in. As I raised the hammer over my head to smash the melon into oblivion, I screamed "I LOVE WEIRD AL!" and let it have it...and barely dented it. Still, you haven't really LIVED until you've smashed a watermelon in front of several thousand people.
Sunday, November 11, 2001
06:45 p.m.

Recipe for Cynicism
Yea, I felt like updating. Heading into another therapy session tomorrow, get to miss the first class or two. Good, I didn't feel like dealing with that elitist Drama teacher again anyway.
I was reading Dear Abby today, and nearly spat out my drink over this... "Recipe For Happiness
Take 2 heaping cups of patience
1 heartful of love
2 handfuls of generosity
Dash of laughter
1 headful of understanding
Sprinkle generously with kindness
Add plenty of faith and mix well
Spread over a period of a lifetime
And serve everybody you meet."
This really irked me. These cute little lists are so one-sided. They don't take into account that life has problems, and a dash of laughter and a few sprinkles of kindness don't solve them. If life were easy enough to cook, then we wouldn't have so many problems.
And that was your daily dose of cynicism, with a healthy sprinkling of "Bite Me" thrown in for extra spice.
Sunday, September 23, 2001
07:50 p.m.

Two Crazy Weeks
No doubt my last entry was a bit...unorganized. Yea, I was really out of it when I wrote it, but I was just being hit by the full force of it all.
Anyway, going above will bring you to the special section of the Verge (the teen section of my local newspaper) that went out on the 18th. After an emergency meeting last Thursday night and one day to gather quotes for the articles, we managed to crank it all out. Wanna know what I look like? Go right there, I'm listed as Rebecca Richards. I did a debate on whether or not we should go to war with an entire country. I'm sure few people will agree with me. Hell, in the past week, I've changed my perspective a great deal.
And that's only half of it. Last Friday (our quote gathering day!) my school was almost knocked over by a tornado. We were hit by a tropical storm and a tornado touched down. Mr. Moore, my English teacher, was oddly calm. It's the way he always is, actually, but I expected him to lose it. In fact, when they announced it, I just said "Sh*t" and immediatly apologized. He just shrugged and said "I can understand." We were all freaking out and asking what we'd do if we got hit. He explained everything as though it were routine to nearly croakO_o At least he kept it together.
The day of the attacks, I began the first of my third trip through therapy. I won't detail what I talked about, but I went because I recognized that I suffered from depression. Maybe you all didn't notice it, but every single list of symptoms I found was like a checklist of my problems. Over the past two years, I have become suicidal twice. I never tried it-I could never muster the strength. Then again, suicide is not a strong thing to do. I digress...I'm out of that neck of the woods, but I'm still depressed, so I entered therapy. Needless to say, I doubt that I'd have handled the attacks well if I hadn't been involved in the reporting of them. I'm continuing therapy for ten sessions. Ironically, I'm playing an insane therapist in a duet I'm doing for Drama class.
I mentioned that my neighbor thought her brother-in-law might have died, and that my friend might have lost her father. Both are okay-the brother-in-law wound up running late and by the time he arrived, the buildings had already been attacked, so he didn't go to work (obviously!) My friend finally was contacted by her father-he wound up not working at the Pentagon that day at all. I'll pray for everyone who has been touched in some way by this tragedy.
Finally, on a HAPPY note...David "Elvis" Rossi, the man with the tattoos of "Weird Al" Yankovic and his band, is getting hitched in 2003, when his fiance graduates from college. He's a nice guy, I've chatted with him online and have had a few trades of Weird Al goodies. I wish him the best of luck! GO ELVIS!
Saturday, September 22, 2001
05:11 p.m.

A Day of Infamy
I don't know why I'm only being compelled to write after a great tragedy, but so be it. Excuse my language, but I am scared shitless.
You don't really think when you wake up in the morning that you could be teetering on the edge of a world war at the end of the day. But that's what happened when those planes crashed in the WTC this morning.
I didn't see it happen live. I had an appointment with a psychologist today. While I got my head examined, people were getting blown up. Lovely. Got back to school, found out one of my friends might have lost her dad in the Pentagon attack. She had only just reunited with him, and now she might never see him again. My neighbor might have lost her brother-in-law, who worked at the WTC, but he wasn't there everyday, so she doesn't even know. My sister's English teacher lost her uncle today.
It was like every time I turned the radio on, it all got worse. First, they cut off a song to say that one tower was hit by a plane. Next, as I waited in the lobby, I hear they're attacking the other one. I'm on my way home, they've attacked the Pentagon, and I'm listening to Dan Rather try to find words to speak as he watches the second tower collapse. My friends at school saw it happen live on TV.
Kind of puts this whole messed up world in perspective, doesn't it? We've been screaming about sharks and interns, and suddenly, we're over it. Wow.
Tuesday, September 11, 2001
10:10 p.m.

Aaliyah: 1979-2001

I editted the picture shown above. I used a photo of Aaliyah and added the text myself. If any of her fans for some reason comes here and wants to use the pic, go right ahead. Just give me credit. Rest in peace, Aaliyah.
Sunday, August 26, 2001
07:43 p.m.