I asked Xhael (along with an ass-ton of my other friends) to do an entry for me. Here's hers. UsVsWrld*~"Can you imagine no love, pride, deep fried chicken.. your best friend always stickin' up for you. Even when I know you're wrong.."~* -trainSo, Sara asked me to write her an entry. I'm honored.. hehe. I'm usually really good at writing things down. Like, I can write so much easier than I can speak. It's just always been that way. I think it's one of the ways that Sar and I are alike. I'm gonna' try to write about our friendship. I hope it all comes out the right way.First of all, I'm Chelle. (visit me at Pheebs.Pitas.com!) I've known Sara for 6 years, and I have yet to see her face to face. We met as 15 year old AOL addicts in the good ole CM room. That seems like such a far-off part of my life right now. We've always said it's amazing how much and how FAST things change.. and it is. For a long time, Sara was a HUGE part of my life. We talked every day, for hours on end, about everything and nothing at all. We understood when we needed to talk all nite, and when we needed to sit in silence just knowing that the other was there. We just sorta' KNEW what the other was feeling without any explanation. We took on the world from our own little corner, and NO ONE could beat us. We were young, and life was good for the most part. As I sit here writing this some 6 years later, I wonder where the time went. I wonder how our lives have gone in such TOTALLY seperate directions, yet part of us STILL remains in that little corner. I guess it's just like that with good friends. I don't talk to Sara HALF as much as I used to, but she's still just as important to me as she was when I was 16. There are things she knows about me that no one else in my life will ever begin to know or understand. Part of me still needs her and part of me knows that we have to grow apart while still growing together. I think we'll always be bonded by a few things. Our DEEP respect for the United States of America, and the men and women who fight for our freedom. Friends (the TV show). Music. I will be able to call Sara when I'm 81 and tell her that I "call" a certain song. I'll be able to call her and say nothing but, "This is a GIRL'S apartment." And she'll just understand. 6 years ago, Sara [insert my last name here] became my best friend. We grew up together. Not in the TRADITIONAL way... but in such a way that even if I NEVER lay eyes on her, or give her a hug, or wipe away a tear, 6 years and SIXTY years from now.. Sara [insert my last name here] will STILL remain.. my best friend.I love you, Sar. "It's raining outside. I don't like to fly in the rain."
12 Jun
2107 hrs
*It's hard to give; it's hard to get. But everybody needs a little forgiveness.* -Patty GriffinAgain with the posting three times. Things I Learned Today1. White people--especially white women--do not like when I throw our sign up at them whilest driving through our neighborhood.2. Never pour a cup of water in the dark, no matter how sure you are of the relative size of the cup vs. the velocity of the water coming out of the pitcher/faucet. 3. Mark shares my views on capital punishment. 4. It is not good to put a magnet up to the screen of your computer, even though it does have some trippy-cool color changing effects. BJ the electronically-smart boyfriend says it is not good to put a magnet on any sort of screen. 5. Sports Illustrated picked the Avs to win the cup in their 16 October 2000 issue. 6. Devils Tower in Wyoming was the first recognized national monument. 7. Wyoming has a tourism board, and said tourism board is promoting commercials in Colorado. Like we don't already know where to get fireworks. 8. Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream does their nutritional information in "1/2 cup servings." Which, to me, is pointless. Give me spoonful numbers. Give me mouthful numbers. None of this scientific shit. I want to know how many grams of saturated fat is in each spoonful of their Peanut Turtles ice cream, so I know how big my ass will eventually be. 1/2 cup means nothing to me in ass poundage.
11 Jun
2330 hrs
*And I love my life, and I'd never trade 'tween what you and me had and the life I've made. 'Cuz [he's] here and he's real. Oh, but you were, too. And every once in a while I think about you.* -Garth BrooksPresident Bush is such a jackass. (Your President Bush, as David Stanley would say.) Here's what he had to say about McVeigh's execution.''Today, every living person who was hurt by the evil done in Oklahoma City can rest in the knowledge that there has been a reckoning,'' Has there been a reckoning. Is everything really settled? Now that McVeigh is dead, are all those families and all those friends just going to forget and forgive and walk away? Maybe for a while, but inevitably the pain of losing a loved one will creep back into their lives and again the anger and hatred and confusion will surface. I don't think a reckoning has occurred at all. Not to mention the men (and women) who still think like McVeigh did. President Bush, I fear, believes that death really is the answer. That the death penalty is okay and right and just and fair. I don't agree. Not at all. I think the death penalty is the ultimate parent-slapping-their-child-in-public act. We all become enraged and saddened when a mom or dad hits his or her child in public, but we don't get mad when the exact same actions and mindset are used by our beloved government. The death penalty is not deterring criminals. It is not stopping violence. It's costing us thousands of dollars more for each prisoner who ultimately dies on death row, than it would to keep said prisoner in jail for life. Colorado, up until very recently (late 90s) had a very fucked up and confused process of placing an inmate on death row. Again, I don't believe in the death penalty at all. But if 70% of Coloradans do (damn Republicans), at least write the laws so people who, in the jury's eyes, deserve to die can be put on death row swiftly and fairly. I'm glad the laws were re-written to exclude juries in the death row sentencing part of felon's trials. Normal people do not have the capacity--most times--to truly give their opinion as to whether or not someone should die. We have our stances on the death penalty, but perhaps after hearing months of testimonies and seeing hundreds of photographs and evidence specimens, even I would change my mind. (Not likely.) A three-judge panel is a much better way of determining who goes to death row and who receives life in prison. Judges hae the responsibility to enact justice on criminals; your everyday housewife or banker does not. As much of a bastard as Timothy McVeigh was, I truly hope he found some sense of peace (and a lot of remorse) before he died.
11 Jun
1129 hrs
*It's been a while since I've seen the way the candle lights your face.* -StaindI got mad at BJ tonight because he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand anything. Not my need to walk at graduation, not my need to never hit my children, not my need to voice my opinion, not my need to plan a happy life.Or maybe he does and just doesn't know how to talk about it. Doesn't know how to talk me back from the cliff I put myself on. And I don't know why I expect him to understand. No one ever has. No one ever does. And I'm mad at him for not even attempting to understand. But I'm more mad at myself for thinking he would. For expecting him to. For convincing myself that I need him to.
I made it for 21 years without him, and for 15 without anyone. I made it through emotional and verbal beatings, and the semi-rare physical beatings. And I can make it through the emotional and verbal beatings I throw at myself. I can make it through the voices in my head that still scream, "Serious Sara," and, "When are you going to start appreciating your mother?" And the images that display Ds and Fs and a small girl tucked in a too big room surrounded by electronics to keep her quiet. I can make it through my fingernails digging into my skin when I'm frustrated or disappointed in myself. And I can make it through the clenching of every muscle in my body when I want to scream at God, "Just fucking do it. Take me. Or leave me. But don't just stand there." I can make it through the times I sit and stare at my reflection, cursing the circles under my eyes and every other little detail of my face. I can make it through that, 'cuz I have before. And my heart gets a little harder every time. And my eyes get a little colder. And my words get a little more cynical. But I'll fucking make it through. With or without you. Currently Reading: She Who Hears The Sun, Pamela Jekel
Walden, Thoreau
Recently Finished: A Child Called "It", Dave Pelzer
Grade: A
Listening to: Rascal Flatts, "From Time to Time"
Thinking of: BJ
10 Jun
2343 hrs
*When I cry, you cry, we cry...together.* -Ja RuleMan, what would it feel like to be a Colorado Avalanche right now? Especially Ray Bourque. (I'd like to link you to a different page about him, but the Avs haven't uploaded their new site, yet.) I knew I would cry when/if the Avs won, and I did. Just for him. For 22 years of blood and sweat, and for 22 seconds of tears. The last half minute of game time, Bourque was on the ice, down on his knees, gasping for air. The announcers commented on it saying Hartley wouldn't take Bourque off the ice. I'm thinking, "He's not gasping for air 'cuz he's tired. He's gasping for air 'cuz he's crying." It moves me in ways so undescribable when a man cries. Especially an athlete.
There's something so different about a man crying. The way he looks and acts. The way he feels. The way he makes you feel.
Men always talk about how hard it is for them to be around crying women. The only thing worse than seeing a man cry is seeing your mom cry. I believe that every man is as weak as he is strong, and as emotional as he is stoic. And when the walls finally break and the first tear falls and his voice weakens--no matter who the man is--it's hard for me to not want to cry, too.
Not that I believe men shouldn't cry, because I believe everyone should cry. I guess, for me, it's just so different to see a man cry, that it weakens me.Ray Bourque is an awesome man, and an awesome athlete. (How's that for some alliteration?) And I'm happy for Patrick and Joe and Peter and Rob and Chris and Adam. But I am ecstatic for Bourque. I was proud to be a Broncos fan when Elway won the Super Bowl trophy. And I'm proud to be an Avalanche fan today. And sports move me as much as music does. When I see Terrell Davis break free and run 80 yards for a touchdown, I dance and clap and scream. And when I see men like Dale Earnhardt die doing what they love most, I cry.
Because I know the joy of victory; I feel it still when I ace a test. And I know the (pardon the clichè) agony of defeat; I feel it still when I fail a class.
I'll never really know what Raymond Bourque felt tonight when he lifted that cup and heard thousands of screaming fans. When he looked and saw his sons crying, and his teammates, too. But I feel some version deep inside me, and I cry.
09 Jun
2136 hrs
*I am colorblind.* -Counting CrowsI want to have Adam Duritz' love child.I walked out of my house today and I could hear the rain hitting the trees. But it wasn't hitting me. Even after I stepped out from under the shelter of the front door. I looked at the paint of the house across the street and saw the drops falling. It was definitely raining. But none of it was getting through. I walked out from under the tree, around my car and felt the first drop. Not a soft, summer rain drop. More of a stormy drop. I drove to the milk store and angry raindrops pounded the roof of my car, and splattered across the windshield. I wonder what Mother Nature's problem was. Whippin' tornadoes around and shit. On my way back home, I ran across my friend Will. I probably wrote about him a few months ago when he randomly called me up. We pulled over (as he was at a stop sign when I threw up me and Man's sign at him,) and talked. I got outta my car and he outta his and we hugged. He gives me the best hugs. Well, the second best. I threw my arms around his neck and he picked me up and spun me around, like he always does. He thinks that now that he's a lot bigger than I am, he can just man-handle me.
When we first met (my 7th grade year; his 5th,) he, of course, was a little boy. And he didn't start getting big 'till his 8th grade year. Now he's at least 6" taller than I am.
We talked. I told him he looked good. He said, "You look good." I BET I did... all in my Old Navy sweatpants and a Steamboat shirt. (Not that he nor I really care.) I think he's going to go to karaoke with us sometime before I go back to school.
I can't say that I really miss Will's presence in my life, but it's always good to see him. I gave him a hug when I was leaving and we agreed we need to go out soon. Maybe Saturday night for the Avs game. That's right! GAME SEVEN, BABY! Oh Lord. I'm so nervous.
Andreas and I have decided we would like to have Patrick Roy's lovechildren. That's right.
07 Jun
2137 hrs
*Tonight I'll sing my songs again. I'll play the game and pretend. But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity. Like emptiness and harmony, I need someone to comfort me.* -Simon & GarfunkelYeah, I know I just used that quote a couple months ago. I'm listening to S&G's Greatest Hits album, and that is by far my favorite song on there.Do any of you remember Candlebox's Far Behind video? With the pool? And all those crazy leaves? I don't remember many videos, but I remember that one. Maybe it's because I love that song so much. I also remember the video for Regulators, though, and I'm not a huge fan of that song. Maybe it's because I used to have a little crush on Warren G. Currently Reading: She Who Hears the Sun, Pamela Jekel
Just Finished: Drowning Ruth, Christina Schwarz
Grade: B-
Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, Tom Robbins
Grade: B
Listening to: Candlebox; The Great Divide
Thinking of: Another entry
07 Jun
1607 hrs
*I am waiting for the telephone to tell me I'm alive.* -Counting CrowsI had to take a drive tonight. Had to. And it didn't really work. So now I sit here wondering if I should write this, write in my normal journal and go to sleep. That probably is what I should do. I'm suddenly very tired.I need to get a job. Need to. I feel like a complete waste of space just sitting here all the time. It's frustrating as hell when employers don't call, especially when there's about a billion "Help Wanted" signs around the Denver Metro area. I worked today on the webpage for CRA for next year for about three hundred hours and accomplished nothing. I cannot understand frames, and I can never get the tables to work the way I want them to. Maybe I don't understand the constraints of a screen? Or something. I'm not sure. But it's frustrating as hell and at this point I just want to cry. Which is a nice segue into my next topic. Matt called me a drama queen tonight. Actually, he said I'm melodramatic and passive aggressive. Yes. Both of them. I'm not even going to talk about how that sounds coming from him, 'cuz that would be equally as childish as he was being.
I said to him earlier,
Dancin (20:51:04): HTML seriously makes me want to cry.
Matt (20:53:16): Seriously thou, it seems like everything you do is contributing to this giant ongoing novel... especially with the journal deal
So, because I'm having problems learning something that shouldn't be THAT hard, and 'cuz I talk to him about it, I'm a drama queen. Blah. And normally it wouldn't have bothered me that much. I'm feeling really detached from my friends right now and I don't need him being judgmental and stupid with me. And I know that I could probably call Man and we could hang out. And I don't really know why I don't. Y'know, I didn't even notice it 'till tonight when I was talking to another random person, but I really miss my friend Marco. He and his brother used to call me Ma.. or Mami. Y'know, the term of endearment. Or maybe you don't. Anyway, I hella loved it. I loved them. They were some bad-ass boys. (Not from the Moulin Rouge, coincidentally.)
Anyway, I didn't even remember that word 'till some guy said it tonight when I was walkin' outta 7-eleven. (Thank God for Slurpees.) Anyway, said guy goes, "Not bad, Ma." Not bad? Out of the blue, even. Men are so strange.
Mami. That doesn't seem like such a bad term of endearment. The very thought of BJ ever saying, "I love you, Ma," though sends me into fits of giggles.
05 Jun
*Make me understand why I still need you so, and tell me how to let you go. Tell me somethin' I don't know.* -MindyAm I the only person addicted to Weakest Link? I love that show. Anne kicks so much ass. I think a lot of men (KURT) are intimidated by her. I think she's funny as hell.Anyway, yeah, another Weakest Link rant. For those of you who suck ass and don't watch the show, here's a quick run-down: You play as a team. Each question correctly answered adds more money to the team's "bank," and a player must say "bank" to record the money. If no one says bank, and someone answers a question incorrectly, the pot goes back to zero. The team votes off the "weakest link" after each round. Now, I already bitched about Celebrity Weakest Link. And I have never really had a beef with regular WL 'till now. This one guy Vaughn was kicking ass. He was the strongest link for four rounds straight. At the end of the fourth round, there were four players remaining, including him. They all voted for him! Now, let's review the logic of this: If Vaughn is gone, the better chance he doesn't kick one of their asses in one-on-one play. That's about the only logic I can see, given that he was really the only one answering any questions correctly.
Now, I know that everyone goes on this show hoping to win the money. But it just seems really selfish and unfair for the three people who really didn't deserve to even have made it that far to have voted off the best player there. Especially this one little punk Dan. (He might've won; I stopped watching after they voted Vaughn off.) His reason for voting Vaughn off? "Nobody votes for me twice." What the HELL kind of answer is that? It's okay to admit that people are smarter than you are. Which is what this other chick did. Anne: Amanda, why did you vote for Vaughn? Amanda: Well, Vaughn's just too smart. I suppose if Vaughn really wanted to win a million bucks, he should go on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, 'cuz there he doesn't have the risk of being voted off by selfish punks who can't admit defeat. What would those three have done in a real game of intelligence? Or a real game, period. It isn't like when one is boxing, one of the boxers can say, "He loses 'cuz.. he's not as fast!" I feel bad for Vaughn. Speaking of boxing, Ben wrote in his last email to me that it really bothers him that I don't like the same things he does. Especially boxing and racing. Now, boxing I don't like just for the sheer brutality of it. But racing I don't like 'cuz he wanted to do it. I like NASCAR and F1 racing...just not like, him racing on some track with a buncha uneducated kids who have to win to impress their girlfriends. It isn't like I would ever say to him (or anyone,) "If you do that, I'm never going to talk to you again!" All I can do is express my concern. I started reading Backroads by Tawni O'Dell again today. I can't remember if I finished it or not. I think I remember what happens throughout the book, but I don't remember actually finishing it. The Avs have been playing like crap the last two games. They haven't been handling the puck very well at all. Or maybe it's just that the Devils are really good puck handlers. Either way, next game is do or die for the Avs. And I hope they can pull it and game seven out...mostly just for Ray Bourque. Thinking of how much heart he's put into the NHL for twenty years, and he's still come up cup-less makes me really sad. It'd be like Elway or Montana never having won a Super Bowl trophy. (That must really suck for Marino.) I'm being really irritable around the house for no reason, as near as I can tell. Part of it, of course, is that I hate Tonio with every bone in my body. And part of it is that Ison and I don't really get along that well. And part of it is 'cuz Mom has a not-so-favorable relationship with Ison and me. And part of it is 'cuz I can't talk to BJ about it. But most if it is just mind over matter. I need to get my mind right, as Ice Cube would say. It's really sad when I would rather be at school. Or even just in Grand Junction.
04 Jun
2058 hrs
*Perfect blue buildings beside the green apple tree. I wanna get me a little oblivion, baby.* -Counting CrowsI just read my new favorite journal for a couple hours. (Maybe I'll link to her later. Maybe.) Anyway, she read some journal where the writer did a Top Ten List. Not a top ten list of anything inparticular..just a list. So, that's kind of an interesting idea. I thought I'd do one, also.Books I seriously love books. I'm looking at my bookshelf and seeing all the books I got from Pa and Mom and I wonder what they thought when they read 'em. From an Ethics textbook to some Hemingway...I just love the escape books give me. New people I must get ten random IMs a night, and once in a while it turns out that they're well worth it. Man and I can go anywhere and meet new people, and it cracks me up the way it's just so easy for us to make people laugh. Adam Duritz He must live in the minds and hearts and souls of millions of people to write the way he does. Driving In the mountains, mostly. It's so peaceful. Just me and the radio and the road and the scenery. It's the only thing I can do that really clears my head. Shirley Temples With lots of cherries. Yummy. Friends The TV show. Fuckin' Chandler cracks me up. Sleep Mmm...sleep. Email Especially real email. I've gotten a ton of it lately, and that makes me so happy. Friends Man and Val. I love those girls so much...so much more than I even love myself. They're the absolute best people to ever have come into my life. Candles Especially in the shower. Lights off, just candles. Try it. It kicks ass. The Weakest Link I love that show. It's craziness how much I love it. G'bye.
04 Jun
0154 hrs
*Oh, Lord. I'm not ready for this sort of thing.* -Counting CrowsFor any of you who read this and believe in some higher power, please pray for my friend Misty and her family. For healing and strength and understanding.
I love you, Mist.I've been thinking a lot about children and being grown up and stuff like that lately. And, as many of you know, I do not want to have my own children. I guess I can see the power and beauty of it, but I can't understand it. I know there's so many children in modern-day orphanages, essentially, and foster homes who need families. And by the time kids my age are ready to have children of their own, the world will be so overpopulated and crowded. And it isn't like the rate of unwanted children is really going to decline that much. And coming from a fairly diverse background, I want a billion trillion different kinds of child. 'Cuz maybe then they won't ever think they're better than anyone else. I really love talking to James. I learn so much from him. I like hearing about Nigeria and what it was like for his family then, vs. what it's like now. It's awesome. James is the only one who picked up on the song in my AIM profile. Or, maybe just the only one who said anything. I think I'll change it once I find a quote or two from this new Hugh Prather book I'm reading. I love Hugh Prather. I wish Andrew would give us more room for authors. I can't just pick five authors I like. That's like saying, "Which of your cousins do you like best?" But, wait, I only have five cousins, so nevermind. I haven't seen Man all day. Maybe I'll give her a call tonight or tomorrow.
03 Jun
2137 hrs
*My loneliness ain't killin' me no more.* -BritneyDon't be jealous of my Joey Lawrence picture. I shoulda saved it for October.I wrote a lot in my other journal today. I have a journal that I keep locked that only I have the password to. I write in it when I think I need to work something out for myself. Or when I have stuff to say that might be contradicting or confusing or humiliating, or whatever. It's really a good outlet for me, 'cuz I suck so much ass about writing in my paper journal. I think that since stupid extreme-dm.com never emailed me back about their counter, I shall lock my journal up again. I reckon there's been some comments that I haven't appreciated coming from a surprising number of people, and those people shall not be on my allowed-to-read list. I strongly believe that whatever I write in my journal is not legal in any arguments. It can't be thrown back in my face. Although I recognize this is a public domain and my friends are all probably reading this (and commenting to themselves,) I write here because I can't just say it. And thus I expect what I write here to be respected as a private journal, even though it really isn't. I think BJ and I might actually be having a serious discussion, so I'm going to go focus on that. Peace out, my friends.
02 June
2320 hrs
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