The Dreaming v5.7 || Serenity

Name: Julia
Age: 18 in two months
Sex: Female
Residence: Cleveland
Email: TrekPhile47@hotmail.com
AIM: TrekPhile47
Websites

The Empty Bed

-TBA-
Listening To

"The Saint" Soundtrack
Reading

"Chasing Down the Dawn,"

by Jewel
Thinking

Melencholy
Favorite Shampoo

Willow Lake
Favorite Soap

Rose, Triple Milled Veggie Soap
Favorite Lotion

Bath and Body Works

"Eucalyptus and Spearmint
Admired Scents

Rosy, or anything deep

dusky and earthy
Current Project(s)

Calligraphy

Cleaning My Room

Perfection

;

There's nothing here to see.

10:05 a.m.; Sunday, February 3, 2002

I understand my addictions, I understand that I chose some things in life just so I can hurt myself and love it all at the same time. I had to take myself out of "The X-Files", and distance myself from Spike in "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer"...and I know what I have to do now...

As much as Gulich piques my brain, as much as he may seem a good friend, I can't. I can't torture myself anymore with him, and his girlfriend. I can't do this anymore...I have to run from this. For me. I have to run from this for me...and I know that he will be confused, and think that I hate him, but it's not so...I like him so terribly, terribly much --

And that's why I can't really be around him anymore.

I don't do well with men who aren't Boyfriend...my life just falls apart.

There's nothing here to see.

12:48 a.m.; Sunday, February 3, 2002

I think that I am becoming addicted to these damn net tests...what do you think?

Take the What Should Your New Year's Resolution Be? Quiz

There's nothing here to see.

04:24 p.m.; Saturday, February 2, 2002

I am Artemis.

See which Greek Goddess you are.

There's nothing here to see.

03:17 p.m.; Saturday, February 2, 2002

I'm a Wind Spirit

Thought above feeling and mind over matter are your mottos. Others come to you for advice and guidance. Some see you as introverted and snobbish, but they are merely jealous of your common sense knack to think things through. Don't be afraid to listen to your heart though.

There's nothing here to see.

12:35 p.m.; Saturday, February 2, 2002
Some Emodetests that I have taken:

My True Color:

Blue -- You're blue — the most soothing shade of the spectrum. The color of a clear summer sky or a deep, reflective ocean, blue has traditionally symbolized trust, solitude, and loyalty. Most likely a thoughtful person who values spending some time on your own, you'd rather connect deeply with a few people than have a bunch of slight acquaintances. Luckily, making close friends isn't that hard, since people are naturally attracted to you — they're soothed by your calming presence. Cool and collected, you rarely overreact. Instead, you think things through before coming to a decision. That level-headed, thoughtful approach to life is patently blue — and patently you!

There's nothing here to see.

12.15p; Saturday, February 2, 2002

Tonight is anoither RHHS basketball game, so obviously, I am going to that. I don't know if I should look dressy (artsy) or shleppy (preppy). I am going to wear makeup though, kinda like Heather "discovered" makeup when she went to college...you wear it out, not matter what. I like Heather in makeup, I think that she looks good in cool blues and purples...I think she should try for green next time.

I'm also making dinner for Gulich, Boyfriend, and anyone else who want to dip into the pot: I'm making pasta bake. I've never done it before, and I hope that I don't kill anyone. But ususally, my cooking turns out decent.

Last night, I went out with The Todds...it was nice...except that Boyfriend had a stomach ache, and Gulich was terribly quiet the entire night... I felt slightly awkward about the whole thing...I wanted to do more, but time constraints and Boyfreind being ill wouldn't allow. And the fact that Gulich is only 15 kinda wrecks a lot of the stuff that we can do.

Have I mentioned yet that I can't wait to be legal? Seriously...I can't wait...at all.

There's nothing here to see.

09:44 a.m.; Saturday, February 2, 2002

Take the Which Breakfast Food Are You? Quiz.

How fabulous! Shame on me!

There's nothing here to see.

05:00 p.m.; Friday, February 1, 2002
Dude! CHECK THIS THE FARK OUT!!

Find out which Buffy villian you are most like!
By

I am not kidding. I took the test, and this is what I got!

There's nothing here to see.

04:21 p.m.; Friday, February 1, 2002

Fabulous! I always related to Daria, but Jane was the coolest. I guess she's the one I really turned into.

Gotta shower tonight. Going to go run my old ninth grade stomping ground.

There's nothing here to see.

05:30 p.m.; Tuesday, January 29, 2002

Take The Mu$ic Biz Whore Test

I wanted to be JEWEL!!!!

There's nothing here to see.

09:34 p.m.; Monday, January 28, 2002

I'm thinking about having an 18th birthday party. Gonna throw it in the basement: Mum and Dad are helping to clean and decorate the room. I have to make a guest list and the like.

I'm excited.

There's nothing here to see.

9.19a; Sunday, January 27, 2002

last night, I fnally went to go see a movie...and it was "The One" with Jet Li. It was okay -- the cinematography was fabulous, and so were the fight scenes, and the idea of becoming a god by killing off your parallel universe twins...but that's about it. It was nice, I enjoyed myself.

I got to see His Highness (changed from "Threesome"), and I got pictures!! So ha! undercover me strikes again. I'll be loading the pics from the camera to my laptop, to my computer sometime this morning/early afternoon. It's gonna be cool.

The only condition is that I now have to give copies to his current girlfriend, Krissy. I don't wanna share!! They're mine!!

Still feeling very self-conscious about my face: nothing seems to be working on it. Whenever I get my period, the antibiotic stops working. It's making me sad, and lowering my already, unveliveably low self-confidence.

Told His Highness about the "Hated by Todd Gulich Club", and speaking simply for myself, found out that His Highness indeed does not dislike me, by word of his mouth. That's always nice to hear.

Things I learned about Todd Gulich:

He smells like "guy" -- good thing

He's very huggable -- good thing

His watch smells like beer -- okay thing.

He likes me -- very good thing

His hair is soft and baby fine -- good thing

One of his shoulders or something is screwed -- bad thing

He's pretty cool for a sophomore -- good thing

He has a large vocabulary, he understands what I say -- good thing

Dominic and Robert are his bitches -- bad thing.

He nice to me, even though I make an ass of myself -- fabulous thing.

I like His Highness...he rocks my socks.

There's nothing here to see.

07:00 p.m.; Thursday, January 24, 2002

Proud to blog

There's nothing here to see.

08:19 p.m.; Wednesday, January 23, 2002

My feet are being neglected. My mother promised me a pedicure back in November! I haevn't gotten one yet.

They're mad at me; they need to be properly rubbed, and painted a pretty color.

There's nothing here to see.

07:43p; Wednesday, January 23, 2002

My HTML is getting rusty...I have forgotten simple commands that I used to know by heart. 'Tis a sad thing, 'tis.

Cassandra has been acting sort of flaky lately...which isn't going to make my Honors Brit Lit class any more fun. It's not like I am close friends with anyone in that class. I am so sick of being in Holly's class...her presence makes me ill.... I cannot stand to think of that lying, manipulative bitch sitting there, getting away with emotionally ruining me in the earliest years of my life. If we meet in the future, after we graduate, I'm spitting in her eye...mark my words.

I like photography...but I am intimidated by some of the people there with me. They are better than I am, and I think that we both know that.

I wrote to the Buzz...and got a lovely letter back from her. She told me that I have to kick AIM. I am going to as well...I'm serious about learning...unlike Boyfriend. But I give up, he won't want help...even if he is drowning.

There's nothing here to see.

12:14p; Saturday, January 19, 2002

"If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we would find in each man's life a sorrow and a suffering enough to disarm all hostility."

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

How quickly I forget....
There's nothing here to see.

10:24 a; Saturday, January 19, 2002

Last night was absolutely fabulous! Not only did Boyfriend look sexy in his greaser outfit, but I got to see Threesome (from now on, he will be named as such, to protect his youth and my reputation).

But yes, so I was keeping my eye on Threesome last night, and I'm watching him dance...and something wasn't right, I couldn't put my finder on it; he looked like his back hurt, because he was bent at a funny angle. I told this to Semi-Annoying Freshman, and he's like, "It's because he's so much taller than his date."

But then, I want to know whats up with Threesome from Boyfriend, who is much wiser about the goings-on of men in general than Semi-Annoying Freshman is. So I ask, "Why is he dancing like that?"

And Boyfriend says, "Why do you think he is dancing like that?"

And so, knowing cautiously what Boyfriend is trying to tell me, I look down and -- my God -- saw the Infamous Bulge of Having Onesself a Good Fucking Time.

I guess Threesome was having a very good time. He made a comment to Boyfriend and Semi-Annoying Freshman along the lines of what bit of natural post-puberty physiological wonder was overtaking him.

Ah, I remember when that used to be charming with Boyfriend; now it is sort of a natural fact of life. Now it is terribly charming to have it happen to Threesome. Just for whatever reason (maybe the whole "threesome" idea, or because he's my brother's age, an I have never been able to laugh at Brother for it); it's teribly charming...and somewhat endearing.

It's just cute: okay? Because I can't get a hard-on, and don't really have to go through all that useless body-chifting/changing-position to hide it, it's endearing. Because I don't even care if someone around me might be having a good time, I think it's endearing.

It just is.

There's nothing here to see.

3:22p; Friday, January 18, 2002

So, I'm thinking about switching over to Diarlyand, because I think that it can handle the bandwidth of passengers and readers and what-have-you...and they have the ability to see one entry at a time.

But the thing is, There are some times when I write seemingly profound one-liners...that would eventually look really stupid when standing out like a...well, I won't tell you what it sticks out like, but you get the idea.

I think that I am going to have to take another tour that tells me nothing given by the fabulous folks at Diaryland, and hope that something that they show me sways me one way or the other.

God help me when I have to buy my own car. Forget going in sweats: I'm going as a ball-busting female sreaming, "SHOW ME THE CARS!!"

Jerry Maguire, I am not.

Anyway, I am very excited for Oldies Dance: more excited than I should be. But I love to play dress-up. I don't think that I have ever really gotten out of that: care in point -- Halloween:

Halloween 2000: The Crow (Todd), complete with (undead)Shelly (me)

Halloween 2001: Vampires...not just regular vampires, but 19th-farking-century vampires: complete with cravat, hairdos, and teeth that refused to stay in.

So of course, I am so excited about Oldies Dance that I am tingling...actually, I think that's the Ben Gay that I am liberally applying to my body to get rid of the ache.

There will be pictures, I will post them on the net. I promise, I promise.

There's nothing here to see.

12:16 a.m.; Friday, January 18, 2002

So I finished my Trig final, and I am not bleeding from the eyes...so I think that there is a good chance that I will pass the class. So I am going to party like its 2999 that I don't have to take another high school math class as long as I farking live...and if I am lucky enough to go to AiP, then never again.

I could only be so lucky.

Tonight (it's 12:30 in the am) is Beaumont's Oldies Dance...and the first (and last) year that I will be going. I'm excited: I swiped a pink tea dress from the Beaumont Drama Department back in JUNE of 2001 to wear, planning for this day. And it's here.

I am going as...well, I dunno what you would call me. But Todd is going to be a greaser, because he seems to be good at that. My mom joked that he doesn't even really have to dress up...he wears all the clothes normally. So the theme is late late 40s and the early 50s. I'm really excited: I'm taking a ton of pictures. I would take them with the digital camera, but its big and bulky...and the Leica still has some film left.

Anyway, I'm getting sleepy, and there is nothing ele to really talk about. So, I'm gonna jet.

There's nothing here to see.

09:03 p.m.; Wednesday, January 16, 2002
Nada te turbe;
Nada te espante.
Todo se pasa
Dios no se muda.
Los pacencia todo alcaza;
Quien a Dios tiene
Nada le falta....
Solo Dios basta.

Let nothing disturb you;
Let nothing frighten you.
Everything is passing,
But God never moves away.
Patience achieves everything.
Who has God
Lacks nothing....
God is enough

-- St. Teresa of Avignon
There's nothing here to see.

01:41 p.m.; Saturday, January 12, 2002

This is sections of the letter that I sent to a friend earlier today, about even earlier events. I am not ashamed of what I said: only the person that I am. Or that my parents say that I am.

I'm distressed...and I have so much physchological baggage on my plate...I don't know if I will be able to get through all of it, ::deep breath:: I doubt that I am going to get through all of the things that I want to get through...but bear with me if I ramble between points.

I've gotten in another fight with my parents. One of "those" fights, the big ones. They say that they love me and that they are looking out for me, but they rip me apart. I'm trying to develop a sense of maturity, and solidarity...and just when I think that I have gotten there, tehy rip it apart. They tear me from my comfortability and security, and make me feel like an ignorant fool.

And I desperately need people that I can trust helping me to grow. I no longer trust them. Since [my situation in February], I have realized that I can no longer trust my parents. I can not go to them, they tear me apart...they never let me forget that I am flawed.

It's not hard to realize that our own parents have fundamental flaws...what's hard is knowing that you are right, but your parents continually tell you that you are wrong. Their sheer ignorance of the person that I have become, their sheer ignorance for lack of being in my head and within my thoughts makes them evil in the sense that they continually rip off my arms and my legs in the name of their sense of right.

It hurts so much sometimes; I feel lost, and hurt, and panicked all at the same time.

The problem lies within that I know that I have issues that I have to get through, and having them partially solved before my parents start in with their knives and cutting me apart is terrible. I know that I have a problem with procrastination -- to the point of sheer, unincumbered laziness -- but I am desperately fighting a yo-yo battle of getting it under control. My proscrastination problems may seem trivial, and have even given you a chuckle, but I don't know if you can understand what it is like to have to battle daily having to get through doing routine, stupid things...even like getting gas for the car...and having to put it off, and put it off, and put it off.

I don't know why I am the Editor-In-Chief of the Lirerary Magazine: it's fucking impossible for me to keep track of scanning things, sending them out, writing letters and scheduling meetings. Little, stupid-ass things like that are huge tasks for me.

But the areas that I can do some battle in, I do: but my parents come by and rip those little accomplishments from my little "Satisfactions of A Job Well Done" section of my life, and leave it like a tattered ruin of a war-torn country.

As if dealing with life weren't hard enough, I have them pulling apart the things that I have created (though small), and leaving me with nothing to call my own, nothing to call my accomplishments.

And now they want to kick me out of the house. They are making me go away to college, and don't want me around -- because it is pbvious that I am starting to loathe them. The contradictory fact is that they want to forceme to go to Florida with them so that we can "be a family".

They think that I loathe and resent them because I am a teenager, and I think that they are "stupid" and that I know better than they do about the world. What I do know is that I know what I need to do, and I am sloughing through it; I loathe them because they rip me apart, make me feel small, and do little more than ruin my sense of self.

I do want to go to a therapist: I've tried to kill myself, been addicted to pain medication, cut myself, and cannot cope with them destorying me. I cannot ask them for this one sense of refuge that I need so badly; they would deny it for reasons that are obvious: including that they don't have the money, it's not necessary, and I am making to big of a deal out of growing up.

I used to want to be a "problem", so that I could be unique and different. Now, all I want to do it be normal. At this point, all I want is to have parents that don't try too destroy me in the name of "love"; and not have all of the problems that I have had to deal with.

To be an artist is something that I want. But I don't even know with any sort of clarity if that is what I really want; dealing with this uncertainty is hard, to put it simply. I feel guilty all of the time because I have no dedication to anything. By telling myself that I want to go to the Art Institute of Pittsburgh, I am giving myself some sort of direction; I am living with the choices that I make.

But now, my parents don't want to pay to send me to AIP. For reasons completely unknown to me. They won't tell me.

And it hurts...them doing another thing to rip me apart hurts so badly.

I don't know what I am going to do. The only thing that I can do is simply live from day to day, hoping that I can improve myself in little ways; hoping that maybe by attacking the little things, I will save the most integral part of my integrit and person.

And looking at all of this, it looks really stupid. Like something every 17-year-old would say.

Which makes me feel even more stupid.

There's nothing here to see.

12:41 a.m.; Saturday, January 12, 2002

Went out tonight to the Richmond Heights basketball game, and realized I want to have a threesome with Boyfriend and his sexy sophomore friend.

::slaps wrist:: Bad Julia! No threesome.

There's nothing here to see.

10:01 p.m.; Tuesday, January 8, 2002

I've walked around broken for such a long time that I don't even know where to go about fixing things. I just feel like a shell, and empty, hollow husk filled with silk but no substance.

I miss John so much: I used to talk to him all the time. I think that he was the only person old enough to know how to deal with me, the only person mature enough to comfort me without twisting me or mailgn-ing me. He was the one who seemed to care the most about me.

I just ache right now. I guess I don't look like a hollow husk, because no one seems to try to make a difference. No one goes, "Julia, want to talk?" Not like it would make a difference anyway...it's not like I'm going to open up to someone I'm not close to, or someone at school who tends to interrupt me anyway. Everyone does it, at Beaumont at least: you're not all immune, but it doesn't make you bad people.

I try so hard to be for other people what they can't give to me: a mature, rational-thinking person. I tend to fall short a lot of the time...but if you look like something is going on, I try to notice.

I'm not good with crying: I hate myself for doing it. I also hate myself for being so emotional...maybe that's why I'm such a wreck now. The best advice that had ever been given to me was given to me by Guinivere, and she said, "What you have to do is embrace your pain and let it go. You have to say, 'This is pain.' and let it go."

I've let it go: all of the personal things that have slowly ruined me. But I don't think that I have ever really embraced it, or dealt with it.

It's so hard to deal with Boyfriend anymore: he doesn't listen enough...he's not very good at that. I can't talk to him without him getting defensive. I have finally given up a lot of that when I argue with him...I don't have to be that way anymore. Maybe it's just because we have fought so often that it doesn't even matter anymore that I "win" or he "wins" or that anything gets fixed: such is too much to hope for. I just say what I can say and know that it won't make much difference anymore.

And I find it incredibly painful that this might be the only way that I get some people to listen to me. God knows that I have told Boyfriend enough times that I am royally buggered....

I don't want your sympathy, either. The last thing I want anyone to do is make me feel like I am some sort of emotional invalid; I guess the only thing I really want people to do is to wake up and realize the pain of others and the warning sign of their pain.

I don't know if things will get better. I have a family member who could possibly be very ill and even die...and yet, I don't have the emotional capacity to embrace this pain.

Cassandra was right when she said it so many months ago. There is something deeply wrong with me...and in those many months that I have read those words...I have not yet dealt with me.

I miss feeling like a woman, I miss feeling alive, I miss the things that made me feel human and glorified, all at the same time. And yet, my parents won't let me see anyone about it, because this is called "normal" and growing". I don't think that it's grwoing when I can't really cope with my emotional disability anymore.

I don't want your sympathy. I just want you to understand.

There's nothing here to see.

08:17 p.m.; Tuesday, January 8, 2002

Pitas has been buggered big time...I hope that "andy" or whatever anonymous guy who is running this site gets the whole problem fixed. Good luck, "Andy"!

Watching "Buffy" and I saw Spike pull a few maneuvers that I have been pulled into. But that's enough of my personal life....

I used to live in a bubble, where nothing bad used to happen to me. I was innocent, and that worked for me: the only problems that I had to deal with is simple, random things. I've never had to deal with death...or the possibility of mortality.

It's been said that childhood ends when you know you're going to die.

I think I'm one step away from childhood.

And it sucks ass.

There's nothing here to see.

01:38 p.m.; Sunday, January 6, 2002

I put the burns in the back of my car on the carpet. Why? Because I am a deconstructive, maligned little fuck.

But I told my parents that it was "friends" (nonexistant to avoid them hating someone in particular). I shouldn't have said that. Now no one is allowed to ride in the Bonnie.

So they say. To them, I have also quit smoking. Yeah, I quit smoking about as much as my mother quit smoking. I'm not worried about people riding in the car.

But somehow, argumentative tactics work differently for my father...who likes to get up and leave in the middle of an argument and say, "I won." Whatever. You win.

I hope they don't find the cigarettes. It would still be a somewhat uncomfortable situation.

There's nothing here to see.

01:12 a.m.; Saturday, January 5, 2002

I'm writing this enrty on the laptop, so all of my typing as to be very precise, otherwise I look like a drunk monkey.

I went to see "K-PAX" with Jones...it was such a good movie; it is somewhat of a phsychological movie. I need to go see it again, some parts of it were really confusing.

I never did get around to writing my letter to the Buzz, and John never wrote me today...how sad.... And I have to go back to school on Monday, which is even more sad. I'm not ready to go back yet, I like being lazy, things are much more fun that way. I was just getting back into my calligraphy.

Which reminds me: I was working on this really nice piece that I had in mind from a really good song. I was almost finished and I spilled three drops of Pepsi on it. GODDAMMIT. I was so pissed...

I should get going now, I have someone bothering the hell out of me on AIM...sheesh.

There's nothing here to see.

11:29 a.m.; Friday, January 4, 2002

I finally figured out how to work the digital camera (ie: getting the damn pictures from the fooking camera to the laptop). And mind you, the laptop Touchpad Miracle Peice of Shite makes the whole process even more aggravating...more so than not being able to load the pictures after seven or eight tries with the USB whosawhatsit thingy. NEVER AGAIN.

But you know what this means, don't you? This means that I, Julia, will be able to work on my art/poetry webpage right now and share the joys of my artistry.

Skye, guess what? MORE PICTURES! We can have so much fun sending each other pictures of ourselves.

Okay, gotta breathe.

Also on the list of things to do today: write the Buzz a letter. Gotta do that soon. And I have to organize the stuff for Lit Mag...which I hope doesn't kill me.

There's nothing here to see.

08:59 p.m.; Tuesday, January 1, 2002

New eps of "Buffy" starts next week. All new Spikes...but he's with Buffy now. It's okay though, Ill just go read "Changes" by my two favorite authors, and just read "Julia" whenever I see "Buffy".

I'm so lonely...I wish John would get online. I would write poetry, but my muse has up and drank herself to death. There's nothing left to do...dying of boredom.

I want a fucking Newport...and maybe the rest of the Asti sitting in the fridge.

There's nothing here to see.

06:15 p.m.; Tuesday, January 1, 2002
Happy New Year, blah, blah blah. ...Whatever....

i'm happy because now that I have scaled down the width of the table on my blog, my paragraphs won't look so freaking wierd. My internet was out, a fact which I should probably explain to you: the cable wire was chewed through by squirrels. ...Stop! Why are you laughing?

So, now that I have the internet again, and 6 days left of break, I figure I will be spending all of my time waititng for John to come online so I can talk to him. I've been waiting for about, oh...8 hours and 15 minutes. Nothing is happening -- he's not online.

I'm feeling a general lethargy for the world. I've been out too much, or at least, I've been thnking about being out too much. I am tired of people: talking to them, seeing them, going out with them.... Actually, I am cool with simple talking to people on AIM; it's easier for me to hold a conversation with someone if I don't have to pretend that I am giving them 100% of my attention. I can give you 100% of my attention in person, but that's ecause you're right there. But for whatever reason, I have to really work hard at pretending that I am interested on the phone with anyone. I prefer AIM and emails...that way, I can pay attention to you and watch TV or something at the same time.

And Boyfriend doesn't seem to accept the fact that I can love without having him in my life righttherenexttome and still be able to breathe on my own. He says that he knows that I am independent, but I really don't think that that concept really hits home for him...he gets really dissapointed when I don't spend pat of the day with him. I wish he could be more independent.... And I'm the one left guilted, or wheedled and needled, or pressured into spening time with him/his family.

I'm not like that, I like being a loner for the most part: I don't like to spend three out of four days this week with his family because of the way they base relationships because of their Homeland. That bothers me. A lot. A whole lot. I want to spend time with my family....

Oh wahterver. Not like anyone else knows what I am talking about...and Boyfriend probably doesn't realize the point of me saying this anyway.

Am I ever going to hear about this later.

Cassandra emailed me. Maybe things aren't so bad after all.

There's nothing here to see.

07:14 p.m.; Monday, December 31, 2001
Julia's Christmas Goodies:
Leather Blazer
Crystal Volkswagon Beetle Ornamanet
One Gallon of Modge Podge
Artist's Wooden Model Figurine
Stationary Set
Angora Sweater
Belt
Swishy, Asymmetrical Skirt
Cool Blouse
Jewel's New CD
Mana, "Unplugged"
Silver Hairbrush/Comb/Handmirror Set
A "Far Side" Day Calendar
A Bracelet
$50 to Sephora

I think I lucked out pretty damn nice this year. Thanks all of you who made this holiday really special. HAPPY NEW YEAR...4 hours, 46 minutes to go....

There's nothing here to see.

Links

Through the Night

Love, Death ...Avoid It

Dooce.com

Come With Me

Beyond Her Heart

Dead Rotten

Scopophilia

Quiddity

Red Head

SnobHair