The Dreaming V11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall

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The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall

Thursday, March 13, 2003; 5.36p

Updating Various Things

Being Sick:

I'm healed -- somewhat. For whatever reason, I'm a little loppy today, but it's tolerable. It's the cigarette buzz that won't go away. I thought that I had strep, because I had all of the classic symptopms (sore throat, white patches on tonsils, fever for a day or two); however on both the rapid test and the actual no-fails culture, it was negative. So, thank God, I'm not contagious. But what on God's green Earth did I have, then?

Birthday:

Four days. Not excited, not really. It's hard to when it falls on a national holiday, I kinda get swept under the rug. The only one allowed to make St. Patrick's Day references is The Boy, and he's just allowed to have green iced whatever. He won't tell me what he got me, and it's driving me insane -- I hate surprises. My parents are giving me money, so I can pay my bills, and a small present of some sort. Celebrating with The Boy will be better, I think -- he claims to make a to-do about the whole thing.

My Parents' Spring Break:

Theirs comes to a close this afternoon when they get home. I kept the house clean, ran the dishwasher once, and made sure that I didn't leave piles of shit everywhere. Am I looking forward to them coming back? To be frank, no. I'm used to being on myown and taking care of most of my own shit while the 'rents watch from a safe (very silent) distance. But this is their house, and I can't chase them from it, or expect them not to live here.

I will lend a lot of my maturity this visit around to the fact that The Boy and I spend a whole lot of time with one another. There's no fighting to clean stuff when it needs to be; there's mutual respect for one another and we do look out for one another; we go out of our way sometimes to help the other out -- even though we don't ask. So, I'm kinda trained to just tidy up.

Happy Hour -- All Wednesday:

As much as I tried to dissuade him (albeit, weakly), The Boy came to see meyesterday. We decided to go to Bennigan's, one of the old "Group" hangouts. The food was FABULOUS, to which The Boy and I kept commenting. Appetizer: potato skins; Main Courses: (The Boy) some chicken stuff smothered with cheese, tatoes, and cinnamon apples; (Me) Killkenny's Country Chicken Salad with Roasted Honey Dijon Dressing. The Boy indulged in the luxuries of being of age, and I kinda just sat there, stupidly sipping a Coke. I always feel kinda pathetic when he indulges (which, amazingly, and thank God, isn't often).

Dinner followed by a movie, "Just Married," which is amusing, but hiddeously frustrating. And in the choice between a beautiful Venitian estate and a seedy American bar in italy, I chose the Venitian estate; but in the choice between a house in Beverly Hills and a suburban home, I chose the suburban home...go figure.

It's too bad that either Ashland, Mansfield, nor Ontario have anything like we do here. The Boy and I had a really wonderful time.

Mysterious Bump:

Worth mentioning, I suppose. It's on my right hip/thigh area. I thought it was a pimple, because it was little, but it's bigger today, and purply, and it hurts!! So if you ask, yes, it hurts, and no, you may not touch it...you know what? Don't even look at it.

Dermatologist:

This really should get its own entry, but I'll pare down the events so that it's easier to keep track of. If you have been reading the blog for a long time, or have dug through the archives (please, don't -- it's embarrassing), you relaize that I have been through several dermatologists, and none of them seem to be very good, nor have I gotten very satisfactory results with my face. MY face and I are in a constant feud -- so far, I'm winning, but my face lately has been gaining.

Basically, I have cystic acne, which can only be treated with antibiotics, but the antibiotics give me chronic yeast infections and UTIs -- not fun. So I went of the antibiotics, and the cysts came back, so I decided to go to the dermotologist to fix this. I have an interesting little track record with my dermatologists -- they're all incompetent asses. The one I have now, although a very nice man, would give me just about anything. If I told him that Vicodin would work on my acne, I'd be walking out there with a prescription for Vicodin in my purse.

Not only did my car have no gas this morning, it was raining ice and I had to pull over twice to fix the wipers. (Can I remind you how much I hate that car?) I get there five minutes early, wait in the lobby for about five minutes (first patient of the day), and wait in the exam room for twenty-five minutes!! What could he possibly be doin to make me wate for twenty-five minutes?! It's maddening, it's insane!! I braved an ice storm and a wavering fuel tank guage to get there on time, the least he could do was walk his happy little ass from his cushy leather-trim office to an exam room to see me in a timely fashion.

I really should have laid into him; I really should have. He didn't have that much to do I'm sure, at least not a patient with some life-threatening melanoma that had to push my appointment back a half-hour. And he was saccharine about the whole thing when he did finally show up, there was no apology for being late. I should have laid into him, really should have.

But he put me on Diflucan once a week, and I go back on the bactrim, and I go on Retin-A. So, we'll see how that goes.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall An Open Message;

Todd, are you aware of how obvious who's intent it is to be subvertive when I get IMed from "briadupont2003" and then get warned?

Not to mention, very seventh grade?

Nice try.

Oh, and by the way:
subvertive: the act of destruction of property or hinderance of normal operations.

Your welcome.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Monday, March 10, 2003; 6.53p

So the sad thing is is that I find Justin Timberlake's solo endevors so much better than NSuck. People don't agree with me on this:

[Me]: Lea, Ihave a confession to make: I think I like Justin Timberlake's music.
[Lea]: Oh, God....NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Monday, March 10, 2003; 1.39p

The Boy asked me to write an entry, so as long as I'm not terribly incapacitated, and have godawful insomnia, I might as well write.

I'm sick: with something more awful than the flu -- something along the lines of strep and/or tonsilitis. I have these monstrous white patches on my throat, and my lymph nodes under my neck feel like rocks. It;s kinda Discovery Channel creepy if you think about it. ...But I'd rather not think about it.

To the doctor tomorrow, and I'll let you know how it goes.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Friday, March 7, 2003; 12.52p

The Boy's Profile on My Computer
(Our song, by the way...)

Isn't anyone tryin to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home?
It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Wont you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
-Avril Lavigne

James's Response
[James]: Smoke?
[Long Pause]
[James]: cock!
[James]: And fuck your Avril Lavigne shite.
[Long Pause]
[James]: cock

This isn't the first time that his boy friends have gone anti-Avril on him while he isn't around....

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Tuesday, March 4, 2003; 3.28p

This morning, I was awoken to the sounds of a dumptruck dumping what must have been the most annoying cargo ever. I'm not positive that it was annoying cargo, because upon walking past it later, it was just a bunch of sand; however, I think it had to be dumped by the most incapable people on the planet. Typical of Ashland, you know?

The other thing that annoyed me once I realized that closing the windows and sticking my head under the pillow wouldn't make the Big Bad Noise Maker go away was looking at my computer and at away medssages that had been recieved. Not even mine, but The Boy's, asking why he'd stood up [So and So] last night.

Maybe I should explain.... The Boy was convinced by a [Tubby Bitch] to join [A Fraternity on Campus], and The Boy seemed all hardcore into this -- at least he was when he and I were fist introduced, and throughout the "courtship" process. After The Boy and I started dating, he started to balk at the proposition of joining [Fraternity]. Reality might have finally dawned on him that he didn't have the money to join, nor did he want to spend the rest of college being in a fraternity when there were other worthwhile endeavors to pursue.

So, The Boy has been bombarded with hostility from [Tubby Bitch], and dealt with the nagging of some of the other brothers in [Fraternity]. I'm not one to judge, but I'm not too sure on how good The Boy is at saying "no means no," because I've been watching him dart around the subject altogether, except that he doesn't have the money and doesn't want to join.

But the brothers at the house seem to either a) really want The Boy as a member of [Said Fraternity], or b) just pity him for not inducting him at the beginning of the semester -- because they were going to pin The Boy last night as a member of [Fraternity]. The Boy did not go, nor had he told any of the brothers that he was not going to go.

But anyway, this all leads to the message that was left on the computer -- my computer no less, even if it was his screen name. The message (and I'm not going to say who exactly it was from, but it's not from [Tubby Bitch]), basicall was demanding why The Boy had stood up the [Fraternity]. The message was very well meaning, but I personally have had enough.

I'm tired of getting the cold shoulder from [Tubby Bitch] and from other members of [Fraternity], and being called "the Yoko Ono" of the [Fraternity]. The brothers at [Fraternity] seem to think that it's my fault that The Boy doesn't want to be a brother, when really, The Boy is beating around the bush and being slightly irresponsible about getting back to the brothers. Very much to The Boy's credit, and the main fact that I'm pissed to run into these away messages, I don't think that the [Fraternity] are willing to let well enough alone and accept the fact that they have lost a sheep from the flock, and that The Boy cannot afford to join for a single semester (a semester that is half-over at that).

The Boy is just going to have to put his foot down and affirm that no means no, and at the same time, be responsible for himself when it comes to telling [Fraternity] the truth -- the whole truth, and as many times as it takes for them to understand. Because, frankly, I've been stuck in the middle, I feel like, and I don't want to do this anymore. I don't think that I should have to do this anymore.

All parties involved need to clean up after themselves.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Monday, March 3, 2003; 12.51p

"It's the remix to Igniotion, hot and fresh out tha kitchen..."

That is currently the only line of the new R. Kelly song, "Ignition" that I have running through my head, over and over. It wouldn't be so bad having it stuck in my head if it weren't the most retarted peice of ghetto R&B music I've heard in my entire life. It's so...oh my god, there is no word to describe this song. [And it's so retarted and stuck in my head i loaded it on WinAmp -- again...this could be a problem.]

Absolutely no sleep last night. It was one of those nights where you drift in and out of consciousness and don;'t even realize you're sleeping. It's relly bad, you wake up completely miserable. It was horrible, so any nap that I take is no reward for getting out of bed this morning, it's my body craving more time to be comatose.

I'm finally catching up in work in some of my classes from when I was sick, so I'm starting to feel some of the pressure come off of me. My English paper is an absolute disaster, and I'm continually apologizing to my printer for forcing it to spew out such utter garbage. As for Writer's Workshop -- we'll see. I haven't had time to write anything, I had this one idea pressing in on me for a while -- the one that I was working on before -- but I haven't really come up with anything other than that. I'm seriously wondering if I should just try and novelize "Candy from Syndicate Strangers." It might be a worthwhile endeavor, and if it turns out to be anything good, it can be junk food for the reader if I get it published, and I get a little bit of moolah. It could be worth it -- I need the money.

The Boy came back from hangin' with his rents yesterday and put a Gary Larson cartoon on my desk. It's of God making the Earth, and there are different jars of things that he's sprinkling on the Earth: "medium-skinned people", "light-skinned people", "dark-skinned people", "reptiles", and "trees." God is standing over the Earth, with his chef hat on, and he's thinking, "And just to make it interesting..." and over the Earth, he's shaking out a jar labeled "jerks".

I laughed a little, I had seen the cartoon before and thought it quite amusing. This is when The Boy said, "I printed that out for you?" And I go, "Oh? I've seen it before..." The Boy then says, "I decided to print it out for you when Colin dumped you. I knew that you seemed really upset about the whole thing." I gawped like a fish for a second there, it was something incredibly simple, but it was so poignant, and meant so much.

So now it sits on my desk, clipped to the stand to hold papers when I'm proofreading or copying or whatever. The point is, it sits right in front of me; a funny reminder that the world wouldn't be half so interesting without Jerk Drama, and that someone out there loves you, you just aren't aware of how much until the simple things mean more than any expensive gift.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, March 2, 2003; 7.16p

Gay!Doug comes up with the best stuff!!

[Me]: Would you use sexual delinquincy to describe a slut?
[Gay!Doug]: sexual delinquincy, haha, I like it. I guess so, but not really, because delinquincy --> delinquint --> bad, and sluts arent bad, they just need to settle down.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, March 2, 2003; 3.42p

I'm sure this Assland Band COncert wouldn't be half so bad if I didn't have a splitting headache, cramps like whoa, and a million other things I could be slacking on. But alas, I love The Boy, and I would feel poorly if I didn't go to his band thing. ...Besides, he looks cute in a suit.

So I have a big test tomorrow, that I'm only halway done studying for, and a rough draft due in English (peice of crap writing), and a Color Theory project due. WEll see if I die during Color Theory tonight.

The Boy and I went out for sag-ratts, which led to some bizarro hear-to-heart that started out with my not likeing the fact that he got a lap dance from a stripper before we started dating and ended with me telling him that I wanted to move to the city and be some eclectic hippie. Well, not exactly a "hippie" per-se, but somethign creative and in the city-like.

Crap, I'm late.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Friday, February 28, 2003; 8.22p

I had a migraine this morning, so I slept until 1 this afternoon, and I was still hardcore loopy when I walked over to Convo to get something to eat. Lunch was midiocre, but I had cherry cheesecake pudding goo, so that redeemed it.

And a huge glass of cranberry juice because I have another goddamn bladder infection. This is starting to get re-goddamn-diculous. I think that I can't go without cranberry juice for more than a day anymore, I can't take having to pee every half-hour.

My bir[f]day is in approximately 18 days, in which I will be 19. I've been blogging for about three years. Not as if that's of any concern whatsoever, but I've gotten pretty good at it.

I really want an Olympus D-380 camera for my birthday, but that's not going to happen. Maybe it will be a gift to myself later down the line. We'll see.

I want to fill my life with art and literature, but Assland's art department is kicking the shit out of my love for it. I really wish that I were in Blowmont's program again. I don't think that I would have nearly this many problems with Sr. Lucia's art class. Maybe I would, but at least Sr. Lucia wouldn't talk down to me like I feel Caldeweiner and P. Diddy do.

Oh well, I'm going to go bug The Boy.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Friday, February 28, 2003; 2.11p

Friday Five

1. What is your favorite type of literature to read (magazine, newspaper, novels, nonfiction, poetry, etc.)?
Novels by far are my favorite thing to read.

2. What is your favorite novel?
"White Oleander," by Janet Fitch.

3. Do you have a favorite poem? (Share it!)
It's by David Ignatow, but I'm not sure what it's called. Colin has the book with the poem in it.

4. What is one thing you've always wanted to read, or wish you had more time to read
I wish that I had read the Harry Potter books. I miss being a kid.

5. What are you currently reading?
"The Celestine Prophecy." At least, I'm trying to.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Thursday, February 27, 2003; 4.12p

Quiz taken from slinkstercool
1. Without using a dictionary, cliches, or platitudes, define love.
Love is knowing you can wake up next to someone for the rest of your life and not want to say, "What have I done?"

2. What does love do?
Love picks the zit on your back everyone else thinks it too gross to mess with -- and doesn't complain about doing it.

3. What happens when love dies?
It's like severing a major appendage, it hurts.

4. Do you believe you have a soulmate, one person who is right for you? Why?
No, there are too many people on this planet to have only one be your soulmate. However, out of all the people on this earth you will date, one of them is the one.

5. Honestly, would you die for someone you love? Don't give me any lies that sound good, give me the TRUTH.
I don't know that I could die for someone that I love, as much as I love them, I still value life and fear the unknown.

6. Why does love bring pain so often?
Beacause it hurts us to be at odds/away from the one that we love.
7. If love hurts so much, why do we bother?
Because the drive to be happy superceeds the knowledge of pain.

8. Any other thoughts on love?
No, not really. All my mush was sucked dry by ex boyfriends.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Thursday, February 27, 2003; 4.00p

[Me]: ::pats head:: my sweet meal
[Meal]: yes?
[Meal]: nothing, just ::patting your head::
[Me]: i meant "YES!!!!" :-D

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Thursday, February 27, 2003; 12.39p

My hair smells like fruit. Like some exotic fruit, like papaya or guava or something with a fun, exotic name. My hair really shouldn't smell like fruit, though, I don't use anything super-fruity, or claiming to smell like fruit on the label. I use Suave Daily Clarifying Shampoo, and Tresemme Moisturizing Conditioner.

My hair smells better than The Boy's. He uses Suave Aloe Conditioner, and he just smells like Dirty Boy.

In other news, I have become seriously obsessed with the way my body looks. Okay, not to the point where I am manically working out, but to the point where I have started to obsess over what I eat and how I look. I think about excercizing all the time. Of course, I don't do it, because I'm a lazy bum and can find all sorts of excuses not to work out.

Birthday is coming up pretty soon. I'll be nineteen. But in all honesty, I can't be as cool as The Boy, who is 21, and will always be 3 years older than me.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Wednesday, February 26, 2003; 11.37p

[Me]: how about bloody cooch?
[Gay!Doug]: *pukes all over floor*
[Gay!Doug]: *and again*
[Gay!Doug]: *and again*
[Gay!Doug]: *and one last time for good measure*

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Tuesday, February 25, 2003; 3.35p

[Me]: vagina
[Gay!Doug]: *pukes on key board*
[Gay!Doug]: now look what you made me do
[Me]: lol, doug, can we get married and NOT have any babies?
[Gay!Doug]: sure, as long as there will be literally no sex at all, youll get a good-nite and -morning peck and one when i get home from work, and i'll bring you flowers and candy and teddy bears and go to the ballet with you, but nothin more than a peck
[Gay!Doug]: if thats ok with you, sure
[Me]: okay, if that's the case, can i have a mister, as it were, to sleep with?
[Gay!Doug]: sure, if i can have mine
[Me]: of course. as long as it's not the same guy.
[Gay!Doug]: that would be kinda awkward

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Saturday, February 22, 2003; 9.15p

I was perusing the internet about Catholicism and Abortion, for my own personal kick, and I came across Catholics for a Choice. When I was doing my debates in Peace & Justice class at Beaumont, I wish I had this site on hand, or the information at hand, because it's fill of really good information. [Thanks to The Boy, who informed me how royally fucked up the sentence was before I fixed it. It was all kinds of fucked up.]

The point being, in a Question-and-Answer section given by whoever fields these questions, she does extremely well. I find it extremely deplorable that a lot of religious fundamentalists are so ready to field questions using an ignorant scare tactic and sheer biasedness.

I could see my mother debunking this website as something stupid, malinformed, and "not truely Catholic."

From "Catholics for a Choice"
Question: How can you oppose church teachings and still call yourself a Catholic? If you're not going to follow church teachings, why don't you just admit you're not Catholic and leave the church?
Answer: Why do you want to make the church smaller? Why can't you accept diversity?

It's simple enough, but highly effective.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Friday, February 21, 2003; 11.31a

In lieu of all things, I did not fall off the face of the earth. Nay, I simply had the flu, given to my by The Boy. He of course, fared a lot better and is doing better at recovering than I.

He did not get a fever. I got a fever of 102.7. He did not lay in bed. I laid in bed for five days. He did not lost his appetite. I haven't eaten anything substantial since this ugly ordeal started. My eyeballs even hurt again this time.

I need to stop making out with people, this is how I get sick in the first place.

But yes, I'm on the mend, and I'm like a kid in a roller-walker. I'm rolling around like I'm footloose and fancy-free, but I can still do to much collateral damage to beout unsupervised.

So I actually decide to go into class today, because I'm sick of watching Redneck TV, because it might make me go apeshit. A woman had a seizure this morning, in A&H. She pitched forward, knocked her teeth out, and coughed up blood. If I had been there, I would have wigged out.

Proof enough that Color Theory is a very dangerous class.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Friday, February 21, 2003; 11.10a

Friday Five

1. What is your most prized material possession?
My most prized material possesion that I have right of now is my white gold, aquamarine and diamond ring given to me by The Boy as a pre-engagement gift.

2. What item, that you currently own, have you had the longest?
Probably some of the t-shirts that I have brought with me to college. My "whatever" shirt with the purple horse on it might be the standing one.

3. Are you a packrat?
Hell yes! I can't bear to throw anything away; which is why I took basically the entire contents of my room with me to college.

4. Do you prefer a spic-and-span clean house? Or is some clutter necessary to avoid the appearance of a museum?
I have decided that I cannot stand to live in filth, just as my mother has brought me up (drat). As long as there are personal effects in the house, then it avoids looking like a museum. ...I really should go clean.

5. Do the rooms in your house have a theme? Or is it a mixture of knick-knacks here and there?
I don't plan on having themes in my house, but as for my dorm room, there's living room, and then bedroom/study.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Friday, February 14, 2003; 11.35a

Friday Five

1. Explain why you started to journal/blog.
The same reasons why a lot of people sart blogging -- peer pressure. Because "everyone is doing it." That and because I honestly felt like I had something to say.

2. Do people you interact with day to day or family members know about your journal/blog? Why or why not?
Genrally, only the people with blogs themselves know that I have this thing. I think my parents know about it, but they aren't saying anything, and a few select people at college know I have this. I've learned from my two mistakes in high school, I'm sticking below the radar and not working on censoring myself.

3. Do you have a theme for your journal/blog?
Just "The Dreaming," but that's about it. My next layout (if I ever get to it) will have my face placed over oleanders, but I haven't thought of a theme for that yet.

4. What direction would you like to have your journal/blog go in over the next year?
I would like to see a better layout and more tidbits from my life being shown up here, rather than me having to tell all of the gory details....

5. Pimp five of your favorite journals/blogs.

dooce
a.life.uncommon.org
niftygrrl
vagina pagina
goatee style

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Thursday, February 13, 2003; 9.35p

From: [Frances Z---]
To: [Julia Z---]
SubjectL: Cookie story

Hi Joolz,

We got your valentines last night and they were delightful - they put a smile on our faces. Thank You!!! I can always use a laugh at the end of the day.

Dad and I went to dinner last night at the American cafe in LaPlace because I had to return a book to Borders and Ben was working.

I couldn't eat the whole piece of steak so I wrapped it in a napkin and put it in my purse.

When I got home I forget about it and left my purse on the breakfast room table.

Dad reminded me about it later in the evening, too late - there on the floor were the napkins - and Cookie sprawled in front of the fireplace with Cajun steak on his breath. He didn't leave one speck of it behind.

Have a nice day and don't leave steak in your purse.

Love,
Mom

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Tuesday, February 11, 2003; 11.36p

My Mom and I Had A Conversation:
[Mom]: How's fern?
[Me]: Fern is doing beautifully: I moved him to the square vase. I still haven't brough his little brother home yet.
[Mom]: Hs little brother, the fish?
[Me]: Yeah, Sushi.
[Mom]: Sushi is probably on a rice patty in some restaurant.
[Me]: ACK!!!
[Me]: Actually, Covo has sushi the other night....
[Mom]: ACK!!!

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Monday, February 10, 2003; 3.25p

This morning, I stabbed myself in the hand -- by accident. I really don't remember all of the exact details, it happened so fast, but I remembed moving my hand down and realizing the instant the X-Acto knife went in the horrible mistake I had made. Followed by excruciating pain and blood.

I was pretty calm about the whole thing, I was in Color Thoery at the time (odd that I am wounded in a class about Bob Ross painting); I walked over to the sink and went, "Uh, Caldemeyer, I kinda stabbed myself."

He wigged the fuck out. I was amused at the time, I can still smile at it. He told me to stay calm, and I go, "I am calm, I'm just running it under water."

We put pressure on it, and water (hurt like a mother), and he went to dress it. I guess seeing all the blood and feeling the pain and realizing that I had jabbed a 1/4" shank of metal into my hand finally hit me, because all of a sudden, I felt super woozy and as I sank, I go, "Uh, Caldymeyer..."

More flipping out by Caldemeyer ensued and he had to hold me up while Jen got me a chair. He actually used the words, "I've got you, sweetheart" while my knees took a long time in deciding whether or not they wanted to hold.

Sweetheart?

Long story short: I'm okay, I don't have tetnus, my hand and my arm is as sore as hell. The doctor at the Death Center said that it will be really sore tomorrow. If it hurts like no other today, I think I'll be sleeping the whole day tomorrow.

[Gulich]: Where'd you get stabbed?
[Me]: The heel of my right hand.
[Gulich]: Mmmm.... That's a little close to the artery there, fella.

Proof positive: it could have been worse.

You may send me "Get Well" gifts using the address listed a few entries back.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Monday, February 10, 2003; 12.04a

I remember watching the last interview with Brandon Lee on the end of my "The Crow" tape. And something that he said (roughly) was, "Hold onto every memory, because you don't know how many more times you will have that memory."

I had a meomry in the shower while I was thinking about getting the little nipper a pack of Djarum Black cloves.

I thought of the smell of the Djarum and remembered the coolness of the autumn air. I remembered Colin, but not him, not anytyhing he did -- just the emotion when things were still good.

It's one of the few untainted, unpainful memories of him that I have. Cloves in autumn.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, February 9, 2003; 9.51p

To Recap:
Friday:

Friday night, The Boy, BB@C and I went to go see "The Vagina Monologues" put on by a student, Rachel [Something] -- alas, I know not her last name. Originally, Assland had said that they would be stuck in the Band Room because no one would come (and that they would not support such a thing), but they had to move the production to Hugo Young Theatre because so many people were coming to see it.

It was an excellent production, and I was moved to tears during both Gandolph's and Lady J's performances. I was not uncomfortable in the least with some of the things, though both The Boy and BB@C thought some parts were vulgar. I guess I'm just more empowered with my vagina than they are.

As for Frodo's debut, not only did she say, "I have a penis," when also in a group describing the smell of their vagina's, she had the classic one-liner, "cheese."

I think I can die fulfilled having heard that...

Saturday:

Saturday, Gay!Doug dyed my hair "Hot Rod Red." I guess it looks cool to some people, but I'm thinkin we should have bleached it first, Gay!Doug and I.... Gay!Doug says that he's going to introduce me to his other friend who does hair, eyebrows and bikini waxes. I love gay men and their friends!

The dance was last night, which was a lot of fun. It was really interesting about The Boy and I: we went to complementary high schools. Meaning, I went to Blowmont, and he went to Benedictine...there was constant intermingling between those two highschools. It was a displaced moment, he Benedictine, I Blowmont -- we could get our freak on without being reprimanded by nuns and priests/brothers alike to "leave room for the Holy Ghost."

No thank you, I like being able to feel what effect my grinding is doing on The Boy's unit.

Sunday:

The parents came, they saw, they left. There's not much that can be done for the Tin Can. They're thinking of having it towed 150 miles back home. Their loss. Other than that, it was odd. I can't help but feel like I'm some kind of slut -- even though I've made my choices in full knowledge of what I want with my life. A day doesn't go by when I don't hear my mother talking about how ashamed of me she is.

The Boy spent the afternoon -- besides doing nothing -- working on lesson plans. He's a night-worker like me. It's easier to live during the day and work at night. So he's plugging away at that as we speak (9.50p), and I'm blogging.

I ended up going into Gandolph's and Lady J's radio show for a little bit. I was pleased, secretly. Who doesn't like posterity?

I'm going to try to work on some of my writing, but I can't think of character names. I used to have a a character-naming ritual, but I've kind of given that up. Now, it's just anything that doesn't sound retarted.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Saturday, February 8, 2003; 11.37a

Friday Five
1. What did you have for breakfast this morning? If you didn't have breakfast, why not?
I didn't have breakfast, I generally just drink water andhave an apple. Would it be official if I had a Rice Krispy treat for breakfast?

2. What's your favorite cereal?
Special K with Redberries, hardcore. That shit is healthy and good.

3. How often do you eat out? Do you want that to change?
Convo would be considered eating out because I have to haul ass to get over there, so basically, everyday. I want to go somewhere nice for a change...

4. What do you plan on having for dinner tonight? Got a recipe for that?
I actually don't know yet.... It might just be another dinner at Convo. ...Hooray...

5. What's your favorite restaurant? Why?
Corbo's, I have expensive taste...

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Friday, February 7, 2003; 5.58p

Last night, The Boy and I went to go see "Igby Goes Down" at the student center last night. It was extremely nice to go see a movie and do something normal in this stupid kinda way.

Q: How was the movie?
A: Uber-bizarre. The whole movie moved in this disjointed series-of-events in which you saw Igby's experiences and this quasi-drive to be somewhere in the end, but I get the vague feeling that this movie was supposed to be synonymous to his life: something of a wash and bouncing between series and events. There was this extremely funny scene where Igby is asked how his brother is.
[Former Teacher]: How is your brother, Igby?
[Igby]: Well, he was in a terrible accident: you see, he was riding his bicycle and saw a reflection in his handlebar. He became so aroused and burst through his Speedo, and it got caught in the gear... Well, the doctors found his face and put it on ice until they could graft it back on...

The Boy looks at me at the end of the movie and goes, "Honey, you sure know how to pick them..."

It's like my father and mother when it comes to movies. I have to stop this before it gets out of hand. Dear God, this must stop.

Tonight, The Boy, BB@C, Meghan, Gay!Doug and I are going to see "The Vagina Monologues." I'm very much looking forward to it, and I plan on wearing the new shirt that I bought at Gabriels the other night. I can't wait to look fashionable and all that.

And I can't wait to hear Frodo to go, "I have a penis!" The funny thing is, she's a girl -- sort of.

You'd have to meet her.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Thursday, February 6, 2003; 12.43p

Dress shopping with Best Bud at College went well. We found her a nice black dress that will look fine for the dance. I think it would have been cool if the tea-lenght dress would have fit, but it didn't, que sera.

So The Boy and I are really busy, it's kind of amazing to watch. He doesn't come home until 6 every day; we talk some, kiss some, watch some TV...but mostly, he's too tired and too busy with meetings to do a whole lot of anything else. I'm looking forward to the weekend, and the dance. It's exciting -- but I have no nails...

Things used to be so acute to me, like every little change in my life I have felt deep within me, and it affected evrything I did. Now, going from seeing The Boy all day to seeing him for about 6 hours, kinda doesn't phase me at all. It's that whole "pseudo-single" thing that The Boy gets a kick out of when he reads on this blog.

On the list of things to do today:
The "To Do List"
Run over to Founders Hall and get a new swipecard
Run over to the Post Office and drop off letters
Get project done for Color Theory
Clean the rooms

That's pretty much all I have to say about that.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Wednesday, February 5, 2003; 11.33a

In an effort to get all glammed up for the dance this Saturday, Best Bud At College and I are going to Amnsfield Mall to see if we can buy her a dress. I was there with The Boy on Saturday, so I told her that yes, there were indeed dresses for sale at the DEB at Mansfield mall. I continued to get the third degree:

[BB@C]: Well, I mean, are they nice?
[Me]: I'm sure they are, they're prom dresses.
[BB@C]:Are they cheap?
[Me]: They have to be, it's a hillbilly town.
[BB@C]: But how cheap are they?
[Me]: $39.99, which is a good deal, considering.
[BB@C]: Well, you know, I don't like that stretchy material, it makes me look fat.
[Me]: They have regular material, taffeta-like stuff. [BB@C]: Are you sure?
[Me]: BB@C, I'm sure! The Boy and I were just there Saturday, and believe me I perused through the dresses!
[BB@C]: Will they have dresses my size?
[Me]: I'm sure they will, BB@C.
[BB@C]: Are you sure it's not that stretchy material?
[Me]: ::sighs and walks away::

For the record, I think that BB@C and I will have a good time, I'm just saying, I got the third degree when she borught it up to me. That's how it goes.

I'm hardcore falling behind in my art classes, which isn't surprising. I'm doing pretty good when it comes to Color Theory, and surprisingly enough, I actually looked forward to it this morning. I just need to finish the last project, and I'm all set. Drawing, however is another story. I have two projects to turn in on Thursday (crap! that's tomorrow!), and I haven't even started one of them.

Off to a great start, I am.

As for writing classes: they are going okay, but I am amazed at the absolute wash of crap writing that I have seen. Colin was trying to explain some of it to me, but I couldn't really understand what he was driving at -- I usually can't. At any rate, the writing follows this sort of line: the rebel comes to a horrible, horrible end.

That's it. There's a rebel teenager who does some dastardly teenaged things (drinking, drugs, or sex), gets caught or fails at the plan, and all is lost -- all is lost. It doesn't seem like there is any sort of life-lesson except the sheer brutality that one author can inflict on their characters.

I'm trying not to fall into that sublimated pattern of writing -- not again, I fought for four years to get out of it.

Latest Premise:
A girl living on her own in some big city (New York), runs into an artist in a coffee shop, loses him, finds him at some party. She needs money desperately, and the artist is looking for his new inspiration. She offers to pose nude for some money, and for him to be inspired. Love (or something like it) ensues...

It needs refining, but I think it's pretty cool yet.

Now I have to go hunt down and kill a snack machine for something to nibble on.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Tuesday, February 4, 2003; 8.36p

The Boy is at work, he just got home from work, at 4:30, then he had class until 6, from which we went to dinner, and from 7-8, we spent some quality time. He will be gone from 8-11.

I hate this arrangement. It's a lot like the Colin MBNA Arrangement, but a lot better, because The Boy is nice about the whole thing.

I've forgotten the cool parts of nighttime TV when you're pseudo-single. I have missed "Buffy", "Dawson's Creek" and "Felicity"...but "Felicity" has been off the air, so I'm sure it's not a whole lot of skin off my ass.

I'm still really nervous about my parents coming. It's ruining my quality time with The Boy, and neither one of us enjoys it. I keep thinking that maybe my parents and I might have some interesting "Gilmore Girls" relationship -- but then again, it won't happen. I don't know, though. I'm just working on finally getting out of Ashland and living my life independently.

But I have to write a paper, so I can't meander over this stuff.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Tuesday, February 4, 2003; 2.00p

My parents are coming Sunday to take my car. Surprisingly, they aren't coming in a furious fit, they're coming just because the Tin Can is a peice of shit, go figure.

The fact that they are coming is ruining my week. Making it utterly miserable. I'm trying not to let it, but it does. Since The Big Incident, I ave just wanted to not exist, at least not to them. But they keep sending me things in the mail, and leaving me IMs and stuff like that. It's confusing: I'm untrusting of the whole thing, because every interaction that we end up having, in any sort of stint, ends poorly. And I'm usually the one with egg on my face.

"He shook his head and smiled at me. "You know how you can have a history with a person, and everyone who sees the two of you together for the first time wonders what could possibly be the problem and why you overreact to every word the other person says? And you know you're overreacting, but it's not the one sentence, it's the whole history, every interaction you've ever had.""

-- RivkaT and MustangSally, "Iolokus"

So I;m just pensively, biding my time, and looking for a solution to my Little Problem.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, February 2, 2003; 7.10p

[Me]: lol, girl, you smell worse than the devil's panties.
[Heather]: Smack that guy right in the face
[Heather]: "Asshole! *bitch slap*"
[Heather]: *stares*
[Heather]: *walks away*
[Heather]: That's what I'd do.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, February 2, 2003; 7.04

[Meal]: hey, cam told me you suck
[Meal]: ....
[Meal]: and it pleases him

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, February 2, 2003; 5.02p

As I mentioned before, The Boy and I went to The Gleaner, which is Ashland's one and only claim to fame -- to speak of. They like to claim that the food is award-winning, but if the judges don't really sample the "cuisine", how good could it be?

Anywho, he and I went to The Gleaner, and he found an antique trombone that he's fallen in love with. He wants to buy it, fix it up, and possibly play it. I hope he gets that thing to work on. It'll be Secret The Boy Project Time. I found some candle votives twined with wire and beads that hang from the ceiling; The Boy suggested that I make a project out of it, and I think it sounds like a good idea. God knows with The Boy being gone at student teaching, idle hands are the Devil's workshop.

Flash to today, when The Boy and I went to the Flea Market, which had to be the skeeviest flea market on God's green earth. A nasty little chihuahua met us at the door, shaking and whuffling, then running off into a corner. As The Boy and I perused some of the junk in the glorified garage sale, one of the managers/clerks followed us around, trying to get us to make a sale. I did happen to fall in love with a gold and pink-sapphire ring. They were selling it for $10, which was a complete steal, because all it needed was to be cleaned and have one of the diamonds reset on the side of it. It's got to be worth about $100 at least, I'm sure.

That's the coolest part of flea markets -- especially redneck flea markets -- they have no idea whatsoever of the stuff that they have. They also had a silver and markasite ring that I thought was cool; and I saw a turquiose ring that my mother might have loved.

It sucks being poor.

I saw Alain Nu on Friday night, who was showing in Redwood -- he's a mentalist, which means that he can bend spoons. He said that it was simple static electricity, and showed us all by using someone in the audience to move a pen using static electricity; but static electricity doesn't really explain how he bent a spoon around its axis without making it hot, or doing anything special to it. He said that it also had to do with the Chinese art of "chi gong" which is the idea of using bio-mechanical electricty to move and bend things. At any rate, I was watching him bend these spoons, and I was nearly peeing my pants with excitement and wonder -- I got the last signed poster.

I'm workiong on updating. I'll use my Secret Julia Time to do so.

But now it's time to walk over to Convo. Dinner time.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Saturday, February 1, 2003; 8.00p

1. As a child, who was your favorite superhero/heroine? Why?
I loved Batman a lot because he had cool gadgets and a cape and a mask. The black clothes helped too...and so did Val Kilmer playing him in "Batman Forever".

2. What was one thing you always wanted as a child but never got?
The Power Wheels. Don't get me wrong, I don't want it now, but I would have killed for a Power Wheels back in the day.

3. What's the furthest from home you've been?
London, England, when I was four and Ireland when I was four. Stuff that I can remember? Florida.

4. What's one thing you've always wanted to learn but haven't yet?
I want to learn how to make jewelry. That would be cool, and so would learning how to do makeup.

5. What are your plans for the weekend?
The Boy and I went to The Gleaner Antique shop, went to Mansfield mall and looked around. I have to work on the Tin Can's issues, the job issue, and work on a paper for Monday. Sunday is Flea Market day with The Boy.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Saturday, January 25, 2003; 11.19p

Friday Five

1. What is one thing you don't like about your body?
It can only be one? I would have to say that I would make everything firmer. I could even look past my nose, and my odd-shaped ribs.

2. What are two things you love about your body?
I love the fact that I have turned out to have really nice breasts, and I enjoy that I do look skinny, despite being a little...less firm than I want to be.

3. What are three things you want to change about your home?
I want better lighting so that the walls don't look green; I would like to be able to paint and decorate the walls as I choose, and I would have more room so I'm not always tripping over The Boy.

4. What are four books you want to read this year?
The Boy gave me "The Celestine Prophecy," which I would like to read; my mother told me to read "Lovely Bones," so I'll have to get that when I go back for my dentistry; "Rolling Nowhere" by Ted Conover; and "Thoughts to Share with A wonderful Daughter" that my mother gave me -- without crying or feeling like I have failed her.

5. What are five promises you have kept to yourself?
Due to the poor wording of this question, I cannot answer.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Saturday, January 25, 2003; 11.08p

The Boy and The Best Friend At College went out to rent "The Sweetest Thing" and get a pizza...on the credit card. Momzilla is going to flip when she gets the bill. In retrospect, I think I will only be responsible for about $40 of it. ...Hopefully.

I keep thinking about it, and despite The Boy's company, I'm still very lonely. I have dubbed Ashland "this depravity of a Brethren town". Because that's what it is. I cannot fathom living my life here, I cannot fathom living any life here other than my college life here.

And in an odd, funny sort of way, I could see how one can get stuck living in a one-horse town for the rest of their lives. I never wanted to move out of Cleveland, because there was still so much to do and so much to see here. But I've been in Ashland for all of 6 months, and I've seen and done all there is to see. There are three drive-through liquor stores, God knows how many bars, and two Marathon gas stations within a two-mile radius.

You spend 18 years of your life a stone's-throw from Cleveland, and the City of Ashland is like hell...without the Bay City Rollers and orange bell-bottoms.

I just realize that I am far to big for this town's britches, and I don't belong here. I belong in a city. Any city. Or a suburb...a real suburb. I can only pity the teenagers who live here their whole lives and die to get out.

I've lived here for six months and I'm dying to get out.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Monday, January 20, 2003; 6.08p

["Friend" from Home]: What were we talking about?
[Me]: Probably nothing, knowing how you wander in proverbial circles online...

I know it was mean, but in a dark, witty kind of way.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Wednesday, January 15, 2003; 8.15p

"Life... is like a box of chocolates. A cheap, thoughtless, perfunctory gift that nobody ever asks for. Unreturnable, because all you get back is another box of chocolates. You're stuck with this undefinable whipped-mint crap that you mindlessly wolf down when there's nothing else left to eat. Sure, once in a while, there's a peanut butter cup, or an English toffee. But they're gone too fast, the taste is fleeting. So you end up with nothing but broken bits, filled with hardened jelly and teeth-crunching nuts, and if you're desperate enough to eat those, all you've got left is a... is an empty box... filled with useless, brown paper wrappers."

--Cigarette Smoking Man, "The X-Files"

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Thursday, January 9, 2003; 11.50p

I can't wait to go home.

I can't wait for a fresh start.

I'm moving blogs, I might let everyone know, I might not. Lots of things are changing.

I loved having you visit.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Wednesday, January 8, 2003; 11.42p

Lea and I Plan on Running Away Together
[Lea]: Blah, now I'm going to be all depressed again. Damn them.
[Me]: No no no! I love you, and we are going to rde away to the Mediterranean (wearing kevlar suits to avoid possible burn injuries from my combustible-engine-craft) and we will be happy!
[Lea]: LMAO. Thanks my Sesame Seed. ...What's a kevlar suit? Flame resistant?
[Me]: Incredibly flame retarted, er, retardant. Yes, i have to make sure my Buttercup doesn't get burned on my extremely volatile combustible-engine-craft.
[Lea]: LOL, we'll have to send for boys once in awhile: then it will be wonderful.... Not that you aren't enough...but sometimes, you need some.
[Me]: I will have Jean-Baptiste, he will be a beautiful one-eyed fisherman on the coast who loves me madly. ...But I cannot fathom the idea of bearing his 12 catholic children...
[Lea]: LMAO. And for me, O Creative One?
[Me]: You will have Augustino, an Italian man with an earring who will try to wisk you away on his Pirate ship to be his lover.
[Lea]: I'll gladly bear his 12 non-Catholic children.
[Me]: LOL, if that is what you wish. He will bring you exotic spices and jewelry from his pirate raids.
[Lea]: ...Wow. My very own criminal...woo hoo!

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Wednesday, January 8, 2003; 11.15p

So, I've been re-reading "Iolokus", which has done some to mess me up a little mentally lately. Regardless, I have had my eye on this t-shirt for ages! I still want it, hardcore. "Iolokus" is my favorite fanfiction, and I want the shirt!

I'm a medium, by the way, if that helps. Send my shirt to:

Julia
Box 269
Ashland University
Ashland, OH 44805

Anyway...lately, I have been feeling physically sick. I know that I have to keep busy so that I don't drive myself mad with boredom.

I have to stop drinking so much Coke. It's bad for me, and I think that's why my stomach has been hurting and I feel just shitty. ...Well, that and I haven't been eating regularly. I never thought I would say this, but I can't wait to get back to Ashland so that I can eat prepared meals at Convo.

[Excuse me while I cringe]

Anyway, I'm going to bother my mom so that she'll buy me vitamins so I don't feel so shitty; and I know that I'm dragging all that Croix water back to Ashland with me. So I'm really (I swear) going to stop drinking Coke...and taking vitamins, and do yoga.

I guess that means that I have New Year's Resolutions.

Julia's New Year Resolutions
[Or "Julia's Tired of Feeling Like Crap, this is the Gameplan"]
.: Stop drinking (so much) Coke -- I can't give it all up!!
.: Actually take vitamins on a daily basis
.: Do my yoga on a regular basis
.: Get my ass on the elliptical machine two mornings a week(well, okay, not mornings, I'll never wake up for that, please)
.: Try to avoid utter garbage in Convo (this might mean I'll have to stop eating there.... I wonder if they sell pitas and hummus at Beuhler's?)
.: Sleep normal

I swear to God, I am like the worst person when it comes to personal fortitude and commitment. I can't even commit to finishing a bowl of Easy Mac, more or less work out and eat right. I figure that it's honestly time to grow up and do something about the fact that my health is going down the crapper. That, and theres the fact that I want to look really nice in time for the Kappa Kappa Psi formal in March (assuming I'm not dumped before then) -- I've had my eye on the perfect little-black-dress for ages and I want to look good in it.

Too bad my navel is going to seriously object to me doing those upright crunches I love to do.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Monday, January 6, 2003; 1.10p

I say this often, well, not asoften as say, J.Ho, but I dyed my hair again. Remember way back when when I had Colin dye red over black? Yeah, same results -- even after trying the "For Dark Hair Only" stuff. ...I guess my hair was too dark.

Erg, still have to write a paper, and I don't want to. Que fucking sera.

Not much else to say...I thought I had a lot to say, guess I was wrong.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, January 5, 2003; 8.15p

A Conversation to Make The Boy Proud

[Me]: your mama
[Gulich]: sup negro?
[Gulich]: waz the heezy my neezy?
[Me]: everythang's everythang
[Gulich]: coo coo
[Me]: keepin' my arms so breezy
[Gulich]: fo shizzle my nizzle?
[Me]: fo sho'!!
[Gulich]: shit i'z gotsta go
[Me]: a'ight
[Gulich]: lata
[Me]: lata

The Boy and A Brother went/go to Benedictine, and this is what I learn.

I'm out. Lata, yo.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, January 5, 2003; 1.31a

Today was interesting. Interesting in the fact that not everyday do you decide to up and travel 130 miles to "peruse" a store.

I did this, today. I went to Pittsburgh with the parental unit to IKEA. The closest one to Cleveland is the one in Pittsburgh, and since we have a brand-new Honda Pilot, why not run up 260 miles on it?

How was IKEA? A strange, dreamlike place. I had no idea that so many people loved furniture and storage and all things retromodern. Considering though, that this is one of two IKEAs on the eastern side of the nation, I don't think I'm terribly surprised. I saw a couple of Ohio plates in the parking lot. It's odd to be in another state after what seems like a 20 minute ride (you have to remember that you can't pay me to stay awake on long car rides).

At any rate, the place was packed with people looking for cheap furniture.

What did I think of IKEAs designs?

I'm not sure. Given my budget and my current tastes as of late, that simple retromodern style is really neat. Some of the design elements are interesting. However, if you feel so desperate to throw me an Italian leather sofa, a sleigh bed, and a chaise lounge, I'm not one to discourage you.

All in all, I can see the benefits of being an IKEA junkie in college. But there is a time for everyone to grow up and move on.

As for moving out? We'll see. I think that I'll just have to stay in Ashland over the summer for summer courses and work. Who knows, I might get lucky.

***

In other news, I got my navel pierced. Finally. After God knows how long of wanting it. It pinched a little and is pretty tender today. I like it, The Boy likes it. I think that this one's a keeper.

Next, my nose. ...Eventually.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Friday, January 3, 2003; 3.52a

I'm sitting here, and the knot between my shoulderblades is tigheting. It's the familiar pain that tells me that I'm getting stressed out and all my muscles are getting tired.

And I feel this need, to write, to be alive again in writing. To revel in all the words that have been screaming in my head, waiting for me. Waiting for me to be ready to write them down.

I've been afraid. Afraid I couldn't tell the story the way it needed to be told. I was afraid that I couldn't tell the truth. But honestly, with so many sides to the story, how I see it is the truth.

And so, I realize that I have to write again, I have to do this. I have to remember every detail. The fibers of his muscle under skin, the smell of his jersey t-shirt, the creaking of the mattress underneath. Things that I should have written down a long time ago to remember. But I was naive and didn't believe that I would have to invoke the memories, rather than live them. Que sera. He tells me often that it's in the past.

I'm arrested in a past that I can't even truly understand. And it's time to put it in perspective. In a way that I never had, in a way that I love the most.

One day, all the peices will fall into place. For now, I'm tired of hiding behind my fear, I'm tired of hiding within all of the insecurities that I've been left with. I want to show my lover what I gave to the old, and more. And so much more. All of the things that I was afraid to be, I want to be for my lover. So that I'm not simply neurotic in ways he cannot understand, but so that he'll see the underlying roadmap of my brain, and the things that I am.

I know what I am, what I want to be. I've just been afraid. I'm tired of being afraid.

I want to be free now.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Friday, January 3, 2003; 3.33a

[Me]: I'm wondering if it's too early in my life to write a memoir.
[Heather]: That's kinda depressing....
[Long Pause]
[Heather]: Why do you say that though?
[Me]: I want The Boy to know my depth.
[Heather]: That's a funny way to show your devotion: "Honey, here's my memoir to show you that even though I died young, I love-ed youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!"

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Friday, January 3, 2003; 1.42a

A Conversation I Had on AIM
[Jenny]: Well, when I first met you i was like, "Wow this girl is so freaking smart," then when you went out with Todd and I saw you more I thought: "This girl's a slut", but now i think: "This girl is just fine the way she is."
[Me]: Should I be flattered?
[Jenny]: Not saying that to be mean, it's just your cool the way you are.

Sometimes, I'm down, then stuff like that happens. I'm just fine the way I am.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Thursday, January 2, 2003; 7.54p

I was asked if I had changed at all, because my dad doesn't think that he's changed. I know that I have changed:

I used to get angry and throw things, and cry. Now, I just kinda...sit there. I take it. I'm not going to make it, I'm never going to grow up, I'm always going to be irresponsible.

I'm lost, I'm drowning. I need to get out of here, but they keep me in a bubble.

I hate my life.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Wednesday, January 1, 2003; 2.45a

I'm actually right now listening to a Trance Remix of Beethoven's "Fur Elise". Believe it or not, it's really neat, but I'm an old dog, and I like the traditional rendition of it. Next thing I'm downloading is Bach's "Toccata in Fuge". I know, odd. I reek of nerd.

New Year's was okay. I spent the night at Perkins eating Belgian waffle (which, sadly, Assland's recipe surpasses -- ::mental cringe::); I missed the clock changing and kissed The Boy under a green light on Euclid Avenue outside the shopping center by the Cos (we never actually went to the Cos); I questioned myself worth yet again; and snuggled (maybe more) with The Boy.

I still think he should have gone out drinking, and I wish that I had partied a little harder. Loser.

Tomorrow, it's "Clean Julia's Makeshift Room" Day. Joy. It's a mess, I know; it needs to be done.

I don't know if I should go job/apartment hunting on speacial set-aside day before break is over, or go looking when everything is settled. Regardless, I have to go job/apartment hunting.

And I leave you now to the sounds of "The Hall of the Mountain King". I love it, it sounds so -- Russian.

Yes, I know I'm a nerd!

[Note: And let's not discuss my sudden weird fasciantion with Justin "Ghetto" Timberlake...it's kinda hot, all that girly pitch mixed with the ghetto lyrics.... Nevermind, you wouldn't understand.]

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, December 29, 2002; 6.05p

I'm trying to figure out where this misery I'm sittingin came from. I'm probably just wallowing in self-pity, so there's no point in feeling like crap.

Whatever, I'd write in a real journal if I didn't think it was a waste of paper. I don't get it. I hate this. I want to go home.

I don't have a home.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, December 29, 2002; 4.45p

I cannot tell you what I wouldn't give to be able to have "The X-Files" up to season 6 showing every night on TV, fresh and new. I feel like some significant part of my life is missing without having that familiar aspect of my life there. For now, all I have is some fuzzy VHS tapes back in Ashland, and not time to watch them.

[Open plea: If you really were a loving and faithful blog reader, you would buy me seasons 1-6 on DVD, wouldn't you? Yes, you would. End plea.]

But as of right now, I'm filling my void reading "Iolokus" to fill the void. It's surprising, so much of who I am, and how I act is the way that both "Iolokus" and "White Oleander" were written. Not only the language -- which did have a huge impact on my speaking and the way that I write; but the characterization of the people. In the sense that I think that I'm pretty sharp around the edges, that I'm a silent sufferer who endures the injustice as it comes, yet somehow beautiful in that I do endure.

Or maybe this is just me being totally cracked out.

Regardless, I'm glad that I'm reading "Iolokus" again and that I can finally relate to certain things going on in it. You'd have to read it to understand.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Saturday, December 28, 2002; 1.59p

After reading DiscoTheKid's latest entry, all of a sudden, I have a really bad craving to go with Doug to Bounce....

Damn it only being December 28th...I can't wait to go back to Ashland.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Saturday, December 28, 2002; 1.59p

After reading DiscoTheKid's latest entry, all of a sudden, I have a really bad craving to go with Doug to Bounce....

Damn it only being December 28th...I can't wait to go back to Ashland.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Friday, December 27, 2002; 11.22p

I'm starting to miss The Boy hardcore. I liked being able to walk over (albeit in the freezing cold and risking falling on my ass in the Sexy Boots to impress The Boy) and see him on the porch, smoking.

Now, he runs from having to stay the night at home, and in turn, disappearing because he has nothing for me to get ahold of him. Ijust kinda wait patiently for him to return....

I may have said this before, but I miss the hell out of Ashland. I went for Chinese tonight with a friend who seemsto be having thesame shit to go through that I am. But at least there was shrimp toast. Dear God, there was shrimp toast.

And when I get to Ashland, what then? I'm just going to be miserable there because there is nothing to do there. The Boy and I won't go to restaurants because there are none to go to (well, besides Denny's), no dance clubs, no parties, no big groups of people. There might be some TV and DVD watching, but it's mostly studying and getting work done, and if we're feeling kinda ballsy, maybe a trip over to the Student Center to rent a movie or watch paint dry.

I don't want a domesticated kind of life. But I think though that honestly, curling up on the bed and reading with The Boy might be a nice nightcap....

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Wednesday, December 25, 2002; 7.23p

The Dreaming's Third Annual Tally of Shit Julia Got This Year

My "woolly cervix" scarf from Sarah

A Zire PalmPilot

Matchobook Notebooks from Levenger

Six boxes of 16-cartridge fountain pen refills by Levenger in

Amethyst

Ruby

Raven

Emerald

Cobalt

Chocolate

A Liz Claiborne contact lense case for my purse

A journal with a leather slipcover from Cleveland Museum of Art

A yoga sticky-mat and three yoga tapes

$50 to Old Navy

This kinda-ugly-kinda-kitschy bracelet from TJ Maxx

So that brings in the tally for stuff that I have gotten from my family. I have yet to see what The Boy got me. I'm curious to see what it is.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Tuesday, December 24, 2002; 10.50p

I wish that I had more motivation toblog, but you have to admit that I am doing a damn good job in the last four or so days than I have been doing in the last four or so months. You'd think that I was super-writey because I have picked up that second major and plan to get a BS in Creative Writing.

Nope, sheer laziness beats all.

I've learned a couple of things as I circle around the sun. One of which is wearing sunscreen -- hence, fishbelly white, 12 months out of the year. I might be pale, goddammit, but I'll look 40 when I'm 40 and mot like a Kate Spade leather carry-all when I'm 40.

I've also learned that some people will stab you in the back. I have gotten absolutely more than my fair share of it at 18, and I wouldn't wish half of the shit I've been through on my enemies (who, ironically, put me throught this shit). In retrospect, what I've lived through from the age of 8 until about 13 definitely made me stronger, and I have yet to see more detriment come of what happened.

I keep trying to see the bright side of that as I go through this.

I've learned to be cordial with those that are spiteful towards you. I think that throws them for a loop more than being bitter and hateful. A simple, "Okay." when told, "I hate you." seems to have gone a lot further for me than retaliating with, "Well, I hate you too, and you smell like butt."

Not to mention, it's juvenile.

And I've learned that though a house of bricks can fall on you, someone might just be there to pull the bricks off.

Meaning...

I used to be horribly bitter towards Colin for breaking up with me and having the audacity to go out with someone else. I realize now that I was speaking more from hurt than anything else. He was doing what he needed to be doing to get by in life, and I just wasn't in the plans anymore -- at least, not as a significant other. This was his choice, and although it wasn't really fair to be cut off the way I felt I was cut off, I had no right to tell him what he could and couldn't do with his life.

I'm not bitter towards him anymore. We actually have come to with this sometimes-awkward, but mostly-friendly relationship. And this works well for me, I'm at the point where at 18 yeas old, I want an interpersonal relationship that reflects that number.

Which is why, frankly, I'm cutting 85% of my ties in Cleveland. I'm tired of it all, I'm tired of being talked about behind my back, I'm tired of people using one another as their whipping boys, I'm tired of all of the two-facedness, the deciet, and the pseudoneutrality.

The group that I used to hang out with is facing their extremely late teens and early 20's, and I think it's time that all of us need to stop behaving like children -- myself included -- myself especially, because I'm tired of falling for the same old shit. I stood up for my beliefs in Ashland, and I need to take a stand for my beliefs in Cleveland now.

There was a time that I was so proud of the closeness of the group that I was in. So much so that I wanted to integrate Cam into that group so that he could see the good things that I had. I now want to take him, my pride, what I can salvage of my self-worth and get the hell out of a bad situation. I want to protect him from the lies, the deciet and the backstabbing -- it is the least that I can do for him.

To be honest, I feel that an abusive relationship with this group is what I've been through. And it's not just me, either, because I see what has happened throughout the whole group, and I know that I'm not the only victim, and I'm also not just a victim, and I have said/done some pretty hurtful things in the past. Which is partially why I need to walk away from this. I'm tired of lashing out and hurting people because I have been hurt and because it is the accepted thing to do in this group because no one stops it.

"Emotional abuse is as damaging as physical abuse, though it is often harder to recognize, and therefore to recover from. Emotional abuse causes long-term self esteem issues and profound emotional repercussions for the partners of abusers. Abuse typically alternates with declarations of love and statements that they will change, providing a "hook" to keep the partner in the relationship.

"These relationships are usually highly reactive and drama driven, therefore mutually abusive on some level. Clear-cut lines are hard to draw and the victim/victimized dichotomy can be an oversimplification. Abusers don't make a choice to be abusive, they are generally doing the best they can given the emotional and psychological issues they face." -- Taken from Recovery Man.

This is truth as I see and understand it. And from my point of view, that's all I need to know.

So I guess that the most important thing that I have learned is to walk away. This is me, walking away.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Tuesday, December 24, 2002; 1.13a

I love my job, I really do -- I mean, it's nice not having a boss who looks over your shoulder all the time, nor do they treat me like crap. I get free food and beverages on the job, and my salary is fantastic.

It's the customers that I hate. Not all customers, either, just some. The ones who are caught up in the "holiday rush" and run us into the ground and get impatient when we can't get their chocolate mousse, cafe latte (with skim milk), and their fifty pounds of assorted cooklies (to which they will change their mind to selection as soon as I have them neatly arranged) -- ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

Merry Bloody Christmas.

Cam and I went to Denny's tonight for dinner. He was going to surprise me at work, which would have been very pleasant after the mood I was in from work, but he got down there way after closing. The gesture was very sweet, though.

I'm so at a loss of things to say. I have nothing to say.

The Dreaming will be about a year-and-a-half old on Christmas. I missed the one-year.

I'm still not very exciting, am I?

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, December 22, 2002; 6.25p

I've been a bad, bad blogger.

I know, it's not like anyone takes the time to read this anyway...

I am an ardent blog-reader, but not blog-writer. Which is really sad, coming from the fact that I am a Creative Writing major. I have a lot of things to say, too.

But you see, I've been working: an actual job. A real, for-real job. And the internet hasn't been working at all. And I've had the most bizarre congestion headache for weeks that ballooned into near-migraine pain.

Just erg. Everything is erg.

I can't say that I am too thrilled that Colin aired his and my dirty (breakup) laundry on the internet. It was always my deepest fear that he was going to go off and do that before I was ready for him to do it. And despite the fact that I had told a lot of people who needed to know the situation, I still wasn't ready for him to go telling everyone like that. I don't think that I was ever ready for him to do that.

"Rica is great! (make sure you noted the words great and Rica in the same sentence) She makes me feel like no one else ever has; in all honesty. I mean we go out, laugh together, talk, look at the sky, sit by the creek, go for pointless drives, do small little things for eachother, and a lot more."

I can't say that I didn't try and do all of those things for him. But for him to go public and say those things make it seem like I didn't do those things with him. For the record, I did do nice little things, we did go on drives, we looked at the stars every night we were together, and I can remember him telling me that I was like no other girl he'd ever met.

Que sera. I have some information in my back pocket about the Amazing Rica and Colin. I've said my peice, that's it, I say nothing here on out. His business between him and her that has been shared with me doesn't go anywhere but in the context between him and I.

Because I'm not about airing dirty laundry.

***

I've mentioned my severe dislike for being at home. I'm feeling it again. Just the dynamics between my parents and I never go over well at all. At least they are finally admitting that there were some things that they could have handled better. They aren't going far enough to admit some of the psychological damage that they have done to me, some thing taht will permanently affect the person that I am, my level of trust and what I will bring to all of my interpersonal relationships -- but hey! The fact that they are willing to admit that I am more right than they have let on in the past is a really good start.

I still don't want to be here. I like fucking up in private and not having my parents hound me about it the majority of the time. I like fucking up in peace, thank you.

I'm counting the days till I go back to Ashland. Counting down the days when I don't have to wake up alone and counting the days until the laughter commences.

Counting down the days until I can hang with Cam again. IN PEACE.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Wednesday, December 4, 2002; 09.21p

1. Name:

Julia Naughton Zettl

2. The name of the teacher you SWEAR went straight back to the darkest cave in HELL as soon as they had succeeded in making you have the worst day possible?

That would probably have to be Mr. Kucia, my 8th grade science/math teacher -- peice of shit.

3. Most intent hope for the future?

To be happy, that's all I want. Oh, and to love and be loved in return.

4. What do you think about a philosophy major?

All I can really think of is a friend who is triple majoring, and that's one of her majors, so all I really think is "overcommitted".

5. Name of the first person you had a serious crush on?

Cameron Wick, third to eighth grade -- I wanted to marry this boy, hardcore.

6. Describe the most vivid dream you have ever had.

The only one that I can remember from really long ago that still sticks with me is where my father's truck that he and i droe in turned into this transformer-monster thing that was hell bent on killing us. My sex dream with James Marsters is super-vivid, too.

7. Where you are most ticklish?

My sides, most definitely, and there are only certain people allowed to go near me with their hands there.

8. Name of the first person you thought you would marry?

God, this one is tough, I'm not sure how to answer. But honestly, I swore up and down and actually saw myself havigna future with Colin.

9. Favorite thing to do while you were SUPPOSED to be doing your homework?

Most of the time, it's sleeping, other times, it's reading other people's blogs. Why do you think that I am answering this survey I found on Jacqui's blog?

10. The bus number of the bus you had to ride to grade school?

I always had the good fortune of not having to ride the bus -- no, wait, I rode the RTA home my sophomore year of high school -- 94.

11. What is the DUMBEST thing you have EVER done while trying to hook-up with someone or at least impress them?

Let them have one "freebie"

12. What is the worst possible name you can think of for your child?

Axl Rose

13. What is the most RANCID thing you have ever smelled?

Probably some of the smells I have smelled while making out.

14. Biggest fear?

Death -- what is on the other side?

15. Do you think you act your age?

Well, my parents seem to think that I'm not old enough, and Cam (21) seems to think I act a whole lot older than he, and everyone in between thinks that I'm about par. I think I'm sub-par.

16. Describe why you think higher education is, or isn�t necessary.

It is necessary, it separates the men from the boys.

17. What does it mean to be in a marriage relationship?

Why all this talk of marraige?

18. What was your favorite snap bracelet ever?

I had a snakeskin one that rocked my socks hardcore.

19. Name of the person that you first kissed?

Jared, my friend, Lauren's boyfriend -- 8th grade. It was a dare.

20. Whose hairstyle did you envy most from any of the classic late 80s early 90s TV shows?

Blossom's, she had nice and long hair.

21. Honestly describe what you think about illegal immigrants?

We can't afford to feed our owh, to clothe our own, and to keep healthy our own. We aren't doing our nation any favors by letting illegal immigrants in, who can be potential national security risks even. Take the homeless, the poor, and those on welfare and give them the jobs that these immigrants take.

22. Did you ever own a "my buddy" or "kid sister" doll?

I didn't, but if I recall correctly, my brother did.

23. Did you ever walk around singing a TV show theme song? If so, which?

For shits and giggles, I learned how to sing "The Beverly Hillbillies" and make everyone laugh till they pee singing it.

24. Do you watch TV? If not, why?

I watch way more than I should, I'm thinking about unplugging my cable.

25. What do you want to be doing in 15 years?

I have no idea, really. But hopefully, I'll be happy, and I'll be writing stories.

26. If you want to be married, what do you want your spouse to be doing in 15 years?

Son of a -- another marraige question!! Okay, if I make it to getting married, I want to be happy, I want my husband to be happy. I just want to be happy. 27. Are you a realist or a dreamer?

I'm an in-the-closet dreamer masquerading as a realist -- but realism is just a non-bitter cynic.

28. What is your favorite kind of tree?

Tulip tree.

29. If you could be any age, what would it be, and why?

When I was growing up, I wanted to be 17, because it looked like a great age (if had it's own magazine, for cryiong out loud!), but now I want to be 26 -- God only knows...

30. Do you know Jesus, who introduced you?

No, I don't know Jesus, and that's really stupid question.

31. Should gasoline really be so expensive?

I don't know, I've honestly never known anything different.

32. Tell your best story about cops.

Um, Todd and I were being bad once, and a cop told us to leave, and then gave me a ticket for an expired liscence plate sticker.

33. Who is the funniest person you know?

Christ -- it would have to be ADD Steve, he totally made me pee my pants.

34. Would you want to be president? Why or why not.

Honestly, no, because I'm not into politics. Ain't my bag.

35. Who was your first role model or mentor? Why?

Jo, she was so cool. I still look up to her. I still remember all of the good times we had together.

36. What did you do in like 2nd grade when your teacher wanted you to write about your role model and you COMPLETELY didn�t have one?

I think I wrote about my dad. I really didn't know what else to say.

37. How is your relationship with your mom?

Not that great. I just don't get along with the rents, that's all.

38. Do you agree with Freud that peoples psychological problems stem from the way their mother treated them as a child?

I don't think that it's all about the mother, but its definitely a combined effort of the parents that I have a lot of the problems that I do.

39. If you went to get a dog, and there was one that had yellow and orange stripes on it, would you buy it?

Um...is that even natural?

40. What is your definition of the word passionate?

In my mind, passionate is synonymous with the word erotic.

41. What is the most passionate song you have ever heard? (Print The Lyrics Here)

Well, I'm not going to poste the whole song, but I will post a tad. It's "Extremis" by Hal f. Gillian Anderson. "Atom by atom, molecular beings transport me away to the place of my dreams.... Automatan love, your caress in pneumatic, I'm a slave to your touch, my response automatic."

42. Are you a hopeless romantic?

Yes, and I'm glad that I have a boyfriend now who claims to be one, too.

43. Would you say "birds of a feather flock together" or "opposites attract"?

I would say that differences are the spice of life.

44. What, so far, has been the happiest day of your life?

The day that I realized that I would be okay.

45. What have been the top 5 most important days of your life?

I have no idea how to answer this one, honestly.

46. If you made three million a year, what would you do with it?

If I would make this much every year, I would write my brains out, invest in somje serious art lessons, buy the Lexus that I have always wanted, give money to fund Chron's research and live a comfortable, yet not self-indulged life.

47. Would you rather live in the city or more in the country?

The city, by farking far.

48. How do you best express yourself?

Writing and hissy fits.

49. What is your favorite high school memory?

Oh goodness, I think the simple things were the best: spending time with friends.

50. If you could, would you repeat any part of your life as it was?

Yes, if I could go back in time, I would go back to when Colin and I were happy -- I felt like I could take on the whole world. And Cam's right -- innocence is a great thing until its gone. I want my innocence back.

51. What if you could change it?

If I could have back the time when I was insanely happy and ignorant of the pain that I would live through, hell yes, I would go back to that. But I am working on being happy again, I'm working on a life with someone new, someone who loves me, and with someone I'm coming to love back.

52. Do you regret any part of your life?

I've learned that living a life of regret is useless. "Life is waiting for you, it's all messed up, but we'll survive." Our Lady Peace

53. If you could make a COMPLETELY off the wall movie, with all the money, props, people, etc. needed, what would it be about?

Probably a love film starring me and all sorts of torrid affairs.

54. What is your favorite word?

Gibblets.

55. What is the best name for a three legged dog?

Accident-Prone.

56. What would keep you more organized, a Palm Pilot or something like a Franklin Planner?

I am planning on getting a Palm Pilot, but I like writing things down, it's a writer's habit.

57. Would you ever move to a foreign country? Which one?

I would move to England. In a heartbeat.

58. What is your favorite car?

Lexus.

59. Do you know how to knit?

Used to, but I could never cast off, so I never had a future as a champion knitter or anything.

60. Have you ever gotten flowers, for any reason?

I got flowers from my father at first, around Valentine's Day, and then from Todd on assorted and lovely occasions, and once from Colin.

61. Who do you miss the most?

My Gram. I want her back all the time.

62. How much money did you get from the tooth fairy?

I got a silver dollar that used to belong to my grandfather, I have about 9 of them.

63. Do you like shorts or pants better?

Pants, times one million.

64. Would you rather have a desk job or work more hands on or whatever?

I want to be a hands-on writer and artist.

65. How many times do you think you have left things unspoken that you wish you would have said?

How about how many times have I said things that I wish I hadn't? There's a good question to speculate the hell out of.

66. Do you believe that you can change the world?

No, just one or two lives here and there.

67. What is your favorite color combination?

Black and blue, and not just for bruise factor. Those are my power colors.

68. What are your favorite pair of shoes?

My high-heeled boots that Colin bought me.

69. What do you use as a bookmark?

I'm a terrible human being I dog-ear shit all the time. But I do have a bookmark that says that "Dreams are the essence of life."

70. What is on your pillowcase?

I have three: black, green, and white. I sleep on the white one, and the black and green ones are for show.

71. What is your image of the ideal mother?

I don't have one, it's whatever you get dealt.

The Dreaming 11 :: Behind the Oleander Wall Sunday, December 1, 2002; 7.06p

First semester is over. When I have time, I think I plan on recapping everything that has happened in the last 4.5 months.