CRAZY   
01:00am 07/12/2004
  Yay I'm crazzzzy!

No I'm just tired. I've been spending constant time in the art studio and dark room. I LOVE art. I am not looking forward to my non-art finals though. I wanna just keep creating creating creating.

ok, g'night, just wanted to check in.

-Lisa/Rose
(no I don't have split personalities... )
 
     Post
 
back again   
10:46pm 11/11/2004
 
music: Radiohead "Idioteque"
Well... the Boston Bash was fun, despite the fact that I got stepped on by a stilleto heel (ow) and head-butted in the nose by accident.

But no, really, it was tons of fun. The DJ was really good.

OMG... the people on my floor are INSANE!!!

LOL, talk to ya'll later,

Rose

(PS: I DID get to read for rushlight, thanks to Regina giving me extra time :-) )
 
     Post
 
Hello life! BRING IT!!!   
12:37pm 05/11/2004
 
mood: pissed off
music: Brian Webb
Yeah, ok, so I'm sooo fucking pissed off and annoyed right now.

So... let me less than calmly bring you through the events that lead to this pissy. out-of-control and slightly confuzzled mood right now.

8:00 pm. Thursday night (last night). After a very organized and successful week I go to the dark room to develope three roles of film that I took periodically through the week. Actually you could say the weirdness started at 5 when I went to take Paul's portrait and it started to rain as we went outside to take it. But I didn't think that to be so weird since sometimes with Paul comes a glorious, refreshing rain.

Anyway, I took the pictures until Paul didn't seem so happy about being wet, and I went to class. Then at 8 I go to the darkroom to develope the film. Developing film requires an extrememly precise procedure involving correct water temperature to the degree and correct time settings to the second. It takes me about an hour or so to do my three rolls, and as I am finishing up there is still a girl from my class starting her last two roles of film.

So I go into the dark room to make contact sheets out of my negatives, and while I'm in there the safe lights go off and the regular lights go back on. So the two girls in there and I go back outside where the other girl is developing film. We find her in the dark with the timers dead--there has been a power outage (I guess the lights that came on in the dark room were emergency lights). So with the combination of light from cell phones and a girl's glow-in-the-dark watch (yay technology) we try to finish developing the girls negatives, in the pitch black, so hours of work won't be ruined. We do this, somewhat successfully, and clean up in the dark and finally leave after about 45 minutes or so of this.

At this point it is pouring and may I interject I got soaked in my leather jacket going back to my room.

So, when I get back to my hall things are weirder. There is the flashing of police lights outside and public safety is in the building looking for a Sara. We determine that there has been a car accident that could possibly involve a Sara from the building. At this point Diane comes back with Evan, M-day, Erica, Erica's friend Tre, and Kurt. Tre was in the hall maybe being a bit loud (I wasn't out there, so I don't know) and our SM (for people who don't go here, that's an RA) yelled at him or something. (And as I heard later our SM's boyfriend--who is an alumnus--told him off as well... weird eh?). So, after a bit it was just Diane, me Kurt, and Evan in Diane's room talking and joking at a normal volume with the door closed because it is after quiet hours. Diane also has music playing at a normal level. We heared a loud knock on our door. I hesatated, thinking it was out SM again who had occasionally complained that we were being too loud in a similar situation in which we figured we were being reasonable. Diane said I could open it.

The girl outside the door says "You're being loud, and since your SM says she has warned you before I'm going to have to write you up." (OK, so apparantly this is an SM on her rounds).

"We WERE??" Was the general answer from the room.

"Yes, I can hear you out in the hall." No shit sherlock, do the doors look soundproof?

"And it's a bad idea to have music on," she continues.

"With the doors CLOSED?" I enquire. I mean, come one, the guys across the hall from Paul blast the music with their doors open. And we definately weren't blasting it.

"Yes," she answers. "It's important to be quiet, especially tonight."

"What's tonight?" I asked, wondering if she meant the accident.

"I can't say," she said.

"Ok, write us up then," I said. So, she wrote us up.

Diane and I try to figure out how we could have really been that loud and concur that we MUST have been reasonably quiet. Pissed, I head off to Paul's room and sleep there.

This morning I went back to my room with time to shower before going to work. I try to log onto webmail and the websight won't let me. I realize I forgot to change my password. (The school requires you to change it every once in awhile. Oops--my bad). So I call up the support center and they say I have to go there to fix it. With no time for shower left, I biked to the computing center and fixed the glitch essentially. I had 5 minutes left before I had to go to work. So I stop by emerson to take out food. I can't bike with the food container in my hand, so I walk, with the bike in one hand the the food in the other. I drop the food (of course) on my way to work, but manage to salvage most of it. I get to work, and realize...no POWER!! So...I sit in a dark computer lab, eat my lunch, and leave as soon as the power comes back on. So I stay at work and decide to try my email.

It doesn't work, even with the new password. So I call the computing center. It turns out I have to go all the way back there (not the mention they close for the weekend at 4:30). So I have little time to go back there and fix it (for whatever unknown reason) before showering, shaving, and getting ready for the Boston bash at 6.

Oh, and I WAS going to go to the library and read the rushlight submissions. I guess I'll have to forget about that.

I think... I think the past 12 or so hours are trying to tell me something. Life is telling me, "Lisa, you can't control everything." I had such control over everything this week. I wasted no time, I was getting ahead with work, I was even blessed with a few seredipidous moments when the peices seemed to meet perfectly. Well, my response to life is, "Life will not get me pissed for too long. I will deal. So, dish it out. Bring it. I'll handle it."

-Rose
 
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You know I would   
06:00pm 18/10/2004
 
mood: busy
music: "Pancake" Tori Amos
"If you called my name outloud, you know that I would come running. You know I would" "Outloud," Dispatch.

Just checking in to say hi. It's midterms week. I have two midterms this week (one a CRAZY hard modern architecture one) a bunch of art projects, and some other busy work. But I have taken a minute or two to relax.

Well, it seems my time has actually run out. It is time to go to dinner. So, peace.

Ci vediamo...

Rose
 
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Ish-shay-shoo   
08:49pm 06/10/2004
 
mood: crazy
music: Sounds of the air vents from the photo lab next door
Ok, so I just got tricked.

To put it in plain and simple terms, my boyfriend just duped me into thinking I was hallucinating. Yes, hallicinating, in the sense of hearing things that aren't there. I thought I was one-hundred percent, genuine, CRAZY. Like, time to go to the mental ward. As Paul puts it, I got "mind fucked."

It's not important how, what IS important is that I thought I was hearing the word "Ish-shay-shoo" being said when it wasn't being said. I mean, come one, Paul has never lied to me before, and the times he has tried to trick me I've seen right through him.

I thought I was crazy for maybe a full half hour.

Now I know... Paul was just getting me back for several practical jokes I have played on him in the past. Time to laugh? Maybe.

On that note, I will end with a quote from Paul on the matter of being practical joked on:
"I'd rather not hafta believe things that aren't there: that the prime minister is coming to Wheaton, that you're an elf, or that someone is stalking me in my room. I'd rather not hafta believe these things." -Paul

Uh huh, we all want to believe... or do we?

-Rose
 
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locked out   
09:12pm 05/10/2004
 
mood: disheveled
music: Someone else's jazz
Well I just completed running my 2nd figure drawing session and I am locked out of the room. (Yes, I stupidly forgot to prop the door as I was leaving, and I have stuff still there. It seems I am clumsy lately. If there is something I can drop, I drop it twice. If there is a mistake to be made, I seem to make it. Like in the dark room last thursday I managed to turn the water UP instead of DOWN (yes, it is possible to be that stupid) and water sprayed everywhere. Ok, public safety has come to open the door to the studio so I can go now.

(The figure drawing session went well)

Peace,
Rose
 
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mornin'   
11:46am 04/10/2004
  Well, somehow I managed to actually get my work done for today. So that's happy. Not much has happened since I last wrote, but I have about 10 minutes of free time before lunch and class.

In every book I've read for italian class someone has either killed themselves of has tried to do so. Depressing stuff really. A girl I knew killed herself a week or so ago and it is really sad. I didn't know her very well so it's not like I miss her but I think it's sad how she died. I just don't understand... how could I know so many people already who's killed themselves or tried to? Is life really that painful for some people?

Ok, gotta go,
on that note,
smile!
-Rose
 
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Weekends are so bittersweet   
01:37pm 03/10/2004
 
mood: busy
music: "Sweet Sangria" Tori Amos
So it's Sunday and time for me to do some work. But here's my weekend;

(Warning: I am feeling lazy so some forms of grammar may be abandoned. But I was ALWAYS do an elipse correctly (haha diane)). Friday (after collapsing from exhaustion from a very stressful week which was finally over) I went out to the mall with 'rica and diane and jon (who we picked up in chase and forced to come with us). The mall was chill. I got some cool stuff like a hat and some mad cheap jewelry. Then my friends came back here and I was tired but I wanted to hang out with them so I stayed up and played kings with them. Then saturday I spent some time playing myst with paul in the morning, followed by an attempt at work, then a WONDERFUL dinner chuck and kell cooked for me paul steve and maggie. And chuck told us some mad funny stories about his life back home and his dad. At that point I realized doing work was futile so I gave into the college saturday night atmosphere. I watched some xfiles with caroline which was really fun and then I went to a "white trash" party. (Ok, not very PC but oh well). I went b/c a few of my friends really seemed to want me there, and it ended up being really fun. I dressed in katy's wife beater and ripped jeans and made myself look pregnant and stuck a condom into my bra strap. So I was on my way to the party (not is full getup yet) and I mentioned to someone in my hall where I was heading and this girl who is sorta kinda friends with erica says "Oh they white trash party was last night." And I was like, "Well there's another one tongiht." Ans she's like "Where is it??" (Like she didnt believe me or something). And I was like, "It's invite only." And she says, "Where is it??" And I said "It's invite only, so I don't think I should say." I wasn't gonna go about proving I was actually going to a party that existed. So I thought that was kinda weird but I let it slide and went to the party. I slept over pauls after the party (we played a good hour and a half of myst again), and then when I woke up I went to chase by myself (cause paul left to go to kind richard's faire). I was still in my white trash clothes lol. I ran into the same girl again and I had temporarily forgotten how she was kinda weird the night before. I thought she was eating alone and she is usually friendly so I thought she might want some company. So I asked her if I could sit with her and she said that was fine but she was kinda scowling. So I put my stuff down and then realized there was another plate next to hers and so she hadn't been alone. So I went to get my food (eggs without hair yum) and went to sit down. The moment I started walking to the table the girl got up and I guess she met her friend who must've been behind me. I went to sit at the table but she stood there whispering in her friend's ear. I got the distinct feeling I wasn't wanted there. Her friend came and sat down while the girl went somewhere else. Her friend didn't even look at me. Then the girl came back and sat in silence. I was sitting staring at my food, very uncomfortable, in my white trash clothes nonetheless (probably with leftover makeup smeared on my face). I decided I didn't want to eat with this girl and so I got up like I was going to get something else to eat, figuring I'd just say I ran into a friend and was gonna move. Luckily I DID run into this guiy named nick who was at the party last night and is always fun to talk to so I went back to the table and got my plate. "Oh, you're leaving?" She asked, very dissapointed sounding. "Yeah I found a friend and he wants to sit with me," I said and left, very releived.

I swear, some people just have no people skills. If you're gonna let someone sit with you you don't like (instead of politely telling you you're hyaivng a private conversation or something) then at least don't make it OBVIOUS you don't want the person there, but then pretend you don't want them to leave. Grr!

Anyways, that was my little anectdote for this weekend.

Peace
 
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Finally!   
02:58pm 01/10/2004
 
mood: accomplished
music: The sounds of buzzing computers in the lab
I have finally completed my study abroad application! The thing was a bitch, and on top of it I was bombarded with work this week. Here's to relaxation...finally. I will enjoy myself today...then it's back to work tomorrow but hey that's what going to school is about, right?

Wish me luck, I hope I get into the Italy program!!
 
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Paul's coming!   
01:04pm 13/08/2004
 
mood: anxious
music: none, I'm at the museum
I'm at the MFA so I can't type long, just wanted to post and say hi. My internship is cool, I am treating a marble sculpture that is really dirty and needs to be cleaned. There's all this special chemistry involved, and since I don't know chemistry it can confuse me, but it's still fun!

Paul will be here in 3 hours and 45 minutes! Or, more correctly, I'll be at south station to meet Paul then. We might go out to eat here in Boston, it depends on how much stuff Paul has with him.

Man, I love Boston. It really is an awesome city. I really want to show my friends around (the ones who've only been here a few times) and show them all the cool places here.

Alright, gotta get to work, my lunch break is over.

Peace,
Rose
 
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back again   
08:39pm 22/07/2004
 
mood: satisfied
music: "The Man Who Sold the World" NIRVANA
hello blurty.

sorry I've neglected you.

:-P

So this summer I have been working for conservators at the MFA, but today I did this really cool off-site job where I helped this contemporary artist and a team of other people restore a work of hers. Its a drawing of a galaxy made from little granuals of rubber that are ahdered to the gorund (the same stuff traks are made out of) in a park in Cambridge. So what we had to do was re-do the piece cause it was faded and stuff, so we layed out all the granuals of rubber, kinda like how buddhist monks lay make those paintings out of sand on the ground. Anyways, it was fun, albeit tiring, since it was out in the hot sun all day.

I was there from 7-5, and something strange about the whole day is that no one, 'cept me, went to the bathroom ONCE ALL DAY. Was I working with camels?? That's 10 HOURS without taking a leak, AND while drinking TONS. Weridos. lol

On another note someone read my novel, at least what I have posted, but I don't know who it is. It seems like it could be someone I know. It could be Dave, he said he was meaning to read it. It could also be Thurman, who reads my blurty occasionally. Anyways, tell me who you are. There have been many revisions and I love to share.

Diane is in Russia for those of you who don't know. I miss you Diane!!! I am REALLY happy she is there though, since it's totally her thing. I mean, it's like me being surrounded by art 24-7. Wait... I am already...I work at a museum... my parents are artists... *scratches head* Well, but DOING my OWN art 24-7 would be even BETTER, although I do love working at the museum.

Paul and I have been emailing each other a TON during work, just a few one-word emails, or short little anectdotes. It's been really nice to talk to him frequently during the day even if I'm not seeing him, since I miss him so much.

And I haven't really talked to susa, erica, katy, matt, mike, or steve once. I really miss all my friends. Actually, if you are any of my friends and you are reading this, send me ur address, I'm gonna send ya something. Yes, that's right, even Diane all the way in Russia. :-D

Ok, enough for tonight. My head hurts.

pEace,
-Rose
 
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back again   
08:39pm 22/07/2004
 
mood: satisfied
music: "The Man Who Sold the World" NIRVANA
hello blurty.

sorry I've neglected you.

:-P

So this summer I have been working for conservators at the MFA, but today I did this really cool off-site job where I helped this contemporary artist and a team of other people restore a work of hers. Its a drawing of a galaxy made from little granuals of rubber that are ahdered to the gorund (the same stuff traks are made out of) in a park in Cambridge. So what we had to do was re-do the piece cause it was faded and stuff, so we layed out all the granuals of rubber, kinda like how buddhist monks lay make those paintings out of sand on the ground. Anyways, it was fun, albeit tiring, since it was out in the hot sun all day.

I was there from 7-5, and something strange about the whole day is that no one, 'cept me, went to the bathroom ONCE ALL DAY. Was I working with camels?? That's 10 HOURS without taking a leak, AND while drinking TONS. Weridos. lol

On another note someone read my novel, at least what I have posted, but I don't know who it is. It seems like it could be someone I know. It could be Dave, he said he was meaning to read it. It could also be Thurman, who reads my blurty occasionally. Anyways, tell me who you are. There have been many revisions and I love to share.

Diane is in Russia for those of you who don't know. I miss you Diane!!! I am REALLY happy she is there though, since it's totally her thing. I mean, it's like me being surrounded by art 24-7. Wait... I am already...I work at a museum... my parents are artists... *scratches head* Well, but DOING my OWN art 24-7 would be even BETTER, although I do love working at the museum.

Paul and I have been emailing each other a TON during work, just a few one-word emails, or short little anectdotes. It's been really nice to talk to him frequently during the day even if I'm not seeing him, since I miss him so much.

And I haven't really talked to susa, erica, katy, matt, mike, or steve once. I really miss all my friends. Actually, if you are any of my friends and you are reading this, send me ur address, I'm gonna send ya something. Yes, that's right, even Diane all the way in Russia. :-D

Ok, enough for tonight. My head hurts.

pEace,
-Rose
 
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CRV Week   
06:59pm 20/05/2004
 
mood: groggy
music: "One More For Love" Five for Fighting
This week/weekend is commencement (graduation) and reunion at my school. I am a CRV (commencement reuinion volunteer) and so am hanging out. Diane and I had to move to another room, and it is HUUUUGE. But is smells funny, and the people who lived here all year left it really gross with beer bottles and trash and even a condom in the windowsill. Fun! At least the condom wasn't used. *Shudders* That mean that in this very bed where I sit on my computer some girl named Melissa...had...sex. Yuck.

Anyway, so today wasn't so busy but things will be getting busy tomorrow and sat, and the sunday morning but then I will go home Sunday. I will work for my parents for a month and then hopefully I have a job at the MFA (*crosses fingers*). That would be awesome if I did.

Dicast and I had a reaaly cool conversation last night about God and everything. We stayed up really late just talking about Him, it was so nice. I usually don't talk about God to anyone, and sometimes I forget to really think about Him or anything. It was nice to get re-in touch with God a little, and to discuss all my questions with someone, even if I may never know all the answers.

Well, so far it's been good, I will write again when something interesting is happening. I also finished my story but it's 58 pages so I think wayyyy too long to post. If you're interested in reading all or some of it post it and I will sent it to you.

Peace!

~Rose~
 
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"Shake it like a poleroid picture"   
05:25pm 30/04/2004
 
mood: lazy
music: A band playing on the lawn outside my dormroom (Red Hot CP)
I am so glad it's Friday. This week was incredibly busy, especially the first half of it. I had lots of stuff due, and lots of papers/projects to work on. I had peer reviews (which are HELL) due tuesday, as well as THREE sculptures due tuesday, and then I had a rough draft of a 10-15 page paper due Wednesday. I started it tuesday night, it was definately "rough" but I think I did ok.

Anyways, it's friday now so I can relax a little. I am going to see Mystic River, it is playing at school tonight for free, it should be good hopefully. :)

Well, since all I've really been doing is work there is not much to talk about. I hafta finish my story and have 60 pages worth in a little over a week. I probably won't post it cause it'll be incredibly long, but I'll post when it's finished and anyone interested in reading it can just tell me or email me.

*Yawn* I'm tired, but I don't want to nap, I think it'd make me more tired. I have a little bit of a cold.

Well, it's been good. Glad my blurty is back up.

Peace
Rose
 
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Muahahahahahahaha*coughcoughcough*   
07:30pm 28/04/2004
 
mood: dorky
music: "If God Made You" Five For Fighting
hi! My blurty is working again! YAY!

Not only was my journal stolen (which means someone has read my private thoughts) but my blurty wasn't working. It's been a bad week for a writer I guess.

You think I'd have more to say, but not really. I'm really tired. Yawn. I've had a SHIT load of work to do. Right now it has gotten a little better, since I just finished a major assignment due today. Now I have a 60 page novel that I need to finish in less than 2 weeks....gah!!

Okay, done for now.

Peace,
Rose
 
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Your Analysis: You crave novelty and new flavors in your food.   
10:05pm 16/04/2004
 
mood: artistic
music: "Good Enough" Sarah McLachlan
Comfort foods, bland pastas and rice dishes bore you to tears, and if you're in charge of selecting a restaurant, you're likely to pick something exotic and unexpected--Ethiopian, Thai, authentic Latin American are possibilities. You love exotic spices, ingredients and cooking methods and are willing to try anything once. What’s more, no matter how bizarre the dish, you will probably love it.

What does this say about you? Lively and energetic, you seek novelty and thrive in the world of abstract concepts. You are bold and adventurous, someone who will try anything once; someone who takes chances and enjoys an adventure. You have most likely traveled widely and may even speak a foreign language.


People enjoy being in your company because of the excitement you radiate. You are sensual and tactile: you grab hold of life and don’t let go. You are vibrant and passionate about life and constantly looking for intellectual and emotional stimuli in the world around you.


In fact, this constant need for all that’s new and exciting might lead you to be flaky or unreliable at times. You often lose interest in mundane, day-to-day routines and you have a tendency to start new projects before finishing old ones. Being grounded in what counts doesn’t mean being boring! There is a place for your adventures and great, bold taste for life, but remember that sometimes life calls for a hot, comforting—and yes, boring—bowl of homemade chicken soup—nothing more and nothing less.

Ummm...not sure if all this really fits me. I mean, I am learning a foreign language, and I love trying new foods, but I also love plain and simple foods like chicken soup. :P lol, when are these surveys ever right? Why did I take it anyways?
Peace
Rose
 
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10:31am 16/04/2004
 
mood: tired
music: assorted music by Tori Amos
Wow I haven't written in a long time. Let me see, what's going on? Paul and I went out for dinner and movies last night, that was really nice.

I have been frantically trying to find a job for this summer. Any offers? Yesturday I called like ten different people. I am going to do some mass mailing of my resume this week lol.

There is so much to do. C'e' troppo per fare. Oh vey. I feel like everything I have to do is slipping out from under me and I will never catch up.

Ok...don't feel like writing. I'll talk to y'all lata.

Peace,
Rose
 
     Post
 
My revised Chapter 1 and Chapter 2   
09:03pm 11/04/2004
 
mood: calm
music: "Fallin' Down" Goo Goo Dolls
Here it is again, with more changes. Tell me what you all think. :P

Lisa Shure
CHAPTER ONE: He’s got you in his control.

“They’re stupid,” Julia mumbles to herself as she stares out the window of the second level high school classroom. She can see a small group of students exiting the building, with Brendan Lindor at the head of the crowd. He was an odd-looking leader with his short stature and awkward gait. Julia studies the students, they are mostly of the green hair and black clothing type, except Brendan with his light blonde hair and plain clothes. There are only ten or twelve that went through with the walk-out even though it was supposed to be school-wide. Julia remembered the conversation she overheard Brendan having with a girl yesterday while she was standing in line behind them in the cafeteria.
“Now they won’t even let us dedicate the yearbook to her!” He stated, his voice struggling to remain even.
“Who won’t let us?” asked the girl. Her big grey eyes, lined with black mascara, stared up at Brendan.
“The school…” he replied, but Julia could tell that his eyes were floating over to something no one could see, even though his back was to her.
“Whattaya mean? But what if we vote to dedicate it to her, they still won’t let us?”
“No. The yearbook hasta be dedicated to someone who is alive, the rules state it somewhere.”
“Well that’s a stupid rule. Can’t wait ‘til I’m outta this hole.”
“Well you’re not out, so whattaya say we do something? We should protest.”
“I’m with that. I’d like to see Sheryl’s face on the dedication page of the yearbook, poor Sheryl… Hey, you got tacos again?”
“Yeah…” He was silent for a moment. He had never done anything big before. Julia had never noticed him. But the image of Sheryl’s beautiful face pushed him forward, circulated hot blood through his veins, caused him to feel uncomfortable standing still. “When’s this line gonna get moving, huh?” he asked. His eyes caught Julia’s and he faced forward again. The steam was rising off his skin. He glanced down at his hands holding a cafeteria tray. There was a list of things to do scribbled on his right hand that took residence with a smiley face doodle and an ink smudge, products of yet another boring math class. He was no longer bored; he had a mission. “I think…we should organize a walk-out.”
“That’d be good,” answered the girl as she handed the cashier two rumpled bills.
“Yeah, walk-out it is. We’re gonna get everyone in the school to get up and leave at the same time. We should do it in the afternoon so we can’t make up the school day. That should prove our point. A school’s gotta have students right?”
Right, thinks Julia as she watches Brendan and a few others make their way across the street, off school grounds. How stupid can you be? This isn’t a school where this would have worked. No one will follow you; you’re a nobody, Brendan. A nobody.
Julia’s eyes narrow as she looks down at the students walking away from the school. She sighs, as she remains encaged in a hybrid desk and chair, one of many students in a row of desks. Her thoughts wander the rest of the class period until the screeching of the bell pulls her out of a trance. She is still putting her books away as everyone else is brushing past.


*
Brendan worked in a gourmet chocolate store at the mall. Every day he stood behind the cash register on the far side of the small store and waited for half the town to come in for their daily dosage of sugar. He started to hate the chocolate—it made him sick to his stomach now—an excess of human desire. Chocolate was a completely useless substance. He needed the money, however, so he clocked in every afternoon at 3pm.
“Guilty thoughts raid my mind
Bleeding through my soul
Nothing you will find.
Here before me—black
Here before me—cold
Something’s gone that will never come back
Something’s wrong—did you notice that?”

The lyrics from his new CD blast over the loudspeaker of the store. One good thing about his job is that he can listen to his own music when he is at the register. It is not the prime hour yet, so he stands doing nothing for about fifteen minutes when a familiar face comes through the door. None of the people at the store knew this guy’s name, but they all knew his face since he came in every day to sneak a “free sample” from the peanut butter chocolate nugget bin. He’d saunter over to the bin, as he is doing now, take a glance around the store, at which point Brendan would pretend not to notice him—he was too interested in the color of the register counter—and the man would crouch over the coveted bin of chocolate, reach a spindly pink finger into the clear plastic container and scoop up a nugget of peanut butter and chocolate goodness.
The man would then very quickly deposit his prize into a cheeky face, and suck on it for a minute while he looked around the store. Then, with his back to the register he would chew very slowly. You could tell he was chewing because his head would always bob with enjoyment.
Brendan looked forward to this every day; it would take all his strength not to be overcome with a fit of laughter. The guy never bought anything.
The other thing Brendan looked forward to at work was cash payments. He despised his reasoning for his love of cash payments, but really it made sense in his head, and he had to admit it. He looked forward to cash payments because he usually had to give the customers some sort of change, and there would be a second where the change would pass from his hand to the customer’s, and if he were lucky their fingers would touch. Brendan didn’t care if the customer was male or female, young or old, stranger or friend, but a simple touch supplied him with enough human contact to get to the next day, when, maybe, he might be able to find someone who actually meant something with their touch. He craved touch just like a woman on a diet craved chocolate—that moist brown wave of sugar that coated your tongue. He saw these women sometimes—they always used credit cards. They all looked the same when they took their first bite, like they were in love. Disgusting.
*
“Shattered slowly,” she sings, “—my skin. I become pieces. Broken—apart—by me.” Julia turns the wheel to the left as she rounds the corner of the unevenly paved road. She is finally alone and free and can scream out the day into the dashboard. Julia usually played pop music when exiting the high school parking lot and waited until she was halfway home until she flipped stations and blasted the rock music.
Julia always felt odd while driving—like a kid behind the wheel. How did she get to be old enough to drive?
“I have become—evil inside—pieces. I have become—my ghost. Pieces— broken—apart—by me.”
She almost swerved at the sound of a ring coming from between her legs. She glanced down quickly and saw the phone she had placed on the seat at her lap. Her left hand grasped it and put it to her ear.
“Hello?”
“…ey, it…”
“What…? I can’t hear you, hang on…. Ok, I turned the volume down, who is this?”
“Hey Julia, it’s Patrick.”
“Oh, hey Pat, ‘sup? Oh! Screw it! I just missed my turn. Can I call you back?”
“Sure. I’ll be here.”
Julia drops the phone and pulls into a driveway.
“broken apart by me…”
*
“Great walk-out today, Brendan!” Tom and Lee saunter into the chocolate store as if they owned the place, their hands reaching into the bins and sampling chocolate as they spoke to him. Does anyone buy candy anymore?
“I thought you guys were gonna join, along with the rest of the track team? You were all friends with Sheryl, weren’t you?”
“Sure we were, but you can get expelled for somethin’ like that. You think we’d be that stupid?” said Lee.
“Ya, that wouldn’t be good on our record, you know?” added Tom.
You guys have been suspended enough without having to worry about your records.
“So are you guys gonna buy something or just help yourselves? We don’t do free samples here,” Brendan leans on the register, his foot is tapping to the beat but the upper part of his body is rigid. The best part of the song is coming up and he doesn’t want them to ruin it.
“We’re allowed to browse, aren’t we, mommy?” They make their way through the entire store, sticking their grimy hands into each bin and snickering at things they said to each other. Finally they present a bag with one piece of chocolate in it. Brendan glares and puts it on the scale.
“Three-cents,” he says.
“Keep the change,” says Lee as he throws a quarter at him and grabs the bag. Lee and Tom walk towards the exit, grimacing.
“Why are they so fucking annoying,” gripes Brendan under his breath. Tom looks back at Brendan and laughs, “awwww, sawry!!”

*
“Sorry I took so long to call you back, Pat, I had to get the mail and trash and stuff when I got home.”
“That’s cool, Julia.”
“So, what’s up?”
“Not much, I was wondering if you had a poem I could use for a project.”
“Sure, you know I have plenty of poems, what kind of poem do you want?
“Well, I want a good poem. See, I have been reading a bunch of poems for my project, I hafta present a poem and then talk about the author and stuff, but, I can’t find anything I really like. I’ve always liked your poems.”
“Do you have to use my name, I mean, I’d rather no one knew it was me…You’re the only one who’s ever heard my poems.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m gonna make up a whole new identity for you, don’t worry.”
“Good. Nice game yesterday, by the way. Katya and I were impressed with the team.”
“Oh, thanks. Glad you could make it. I haven’t seen you much recently.”
“Well, why don’t you come by later and we can look at poems.”
“Cool, see ya later then.”
*
“Envision how…” Brendan watches Patrick present a poem for the class, a piece of paper held firmly in his hand. “…how you can live in a winter world forever. Cold, white, sharp.” The words come in awkward bursts. “Red blood stands out—warm, red, sharp.
“…pierce and you shall find the life in you.” His words are stronger now. “Envision how, how your beating heart will warm the winter months. Pierce and you shall find the life in you…Pierce and you shall let it slide… let it die.
“Envision this—warm , black, soft—how easily a summer night becomes a winter day…your heart works to pump the life which warms the sky which gives you ice which pumps your heart until blood leaks but you don’t die…
“…you discover your own life.” Patrick breathed out.
“That poem was by, ummm…. Laura Jana, from Hawaii. I found it on a website where published poets can share their poems, and hopefully get some readers, it’s www.poets…”
Brendan was captivated. I need that poem…

*
CHAPTER TWO: Those who are gone are in control.

Julia wakes. …and the dreams we dream involve everything. We are living with corpses, they are all around us. Julia shivers, sits up, and pulls the covers around her shoulders.
They are around us. All the people we see are corpses. And they wallow in despair as they climb closer to death. Julia listens to the sound of her younger brother in the shower, humming like he always does.
No. That’s not true, it can’t be. We are more full of life than anything. Sheryl was full of life, and so am I. How am I so filled up with it now, but one day it will leak from me and I will be buoyant, floating partly between two worlds. I will be in a state of dead dreaming. I will understand the cold in my hands will be due to lack of blood. Julia reaches into her night-table drawer. Her exact-o glistens.
My thoughts will spill from me. I will be the me whom I never thought I’d be—the dead, or almost dead, me. Her hand forces the blade of the exact-o to travel the skin on her ankle that protrudes from under the covers, blank white flesh metamorphosizing into a thin red line.
Why did Sheryl have to die? Why did she dig herself into a hole? I wish the Sheryl I knew back in grade school, the best of her, was who she had become.
I wish. Julia slips the knife back into her drawer and goes shivering over to her closet. She picks out a pink tank top, jeans, and a smile and puts them on.
*
She hadn’t known it was raining. She had spent too long in her room, shades down, trying to see if her smile fit on her lips just right. She had decided it’d be good enough, but she hadn’t planned on this rain, which had a nasty melting effect—it threatened to wash away Julia’s thick skin and leave her standing outside of the school under the overhang, cigarette in hand, exposing her naked self.
“I am told to follow contentment
to let go of my resentment
to forget my bleeding hands.
I land in a world full of sin—
so many forces
try to win us over.”
The rain recites one of her favorite verses. Julia sees her friend, Katya coming over, and the poem leaves her head. She practices her smile with a wave and a yell.
“Hey!”
“Hey Julia, ‘sup?” Katya leans against the brick wall next to Julia and lights a cigarette. They are in a spot around the back of the school, near where the trucks come to deliver the food for the cafeteria. The smoke from their cigarettes is carried through the rain to the edge of thick forest that cushions the back of the school in a half-circle.
“Not too much, where have you been the last few days, I haven’t seen you ‘round?”
“Oh, I was sick,” Katya smirks as she breaths out, expensive empty smoke leaving her two red lips—Katya buys only the best cigarettes.
“Did you hear about the walk-out on Monday?” Julia asked.
“Oh that was Monday? What were they protesting again? The vegan options in the cafeteria?”
“Katya, sometimes I wonder about you. The whole school knows what they were protesting. They were trying to dedicate the yearbook to Sheryl.”
“Why would the school care what they think? Wasn’t it that Brendan kid who organized it?” Katya flicks her cigarette into the rain and reaches for another. Julia can see her two blue-colored contact lenses shining on the whites of her eyes.
“Yeah, I dunno what he was thinking,” responds Julia. “He’s such a freak. Ugh, there’s the bell, we should go.”
Katya throws her half-used cigarette onto the ground and stomps on it with the tip of her pointy white stiletto. Her whole body is sharp and pointy, like a double-edged sword with blades sticking out in all directions. Julia puts her cigarette out on the red brick wall and places the unused half in her carton, which goes into her pink over-the-shoulder bag. They enter the nearest door and go opposite directions to different homerooms. Julia walks down the cement gray hall, the rain echoing through the corridors. Her high school had been designed by an architect who was famous for his prisons, and Julia considers this to be his best prison ever.
*
“Hey Patrick!” Brendan runs up the hall, trying to catch up to Patrick, but the mob of students on the way to homeroom block his way. Patrick stands at the end of the hall, leaning against his locker talking to Julia Kyte.
“…a madness—years of nothing said
It’s time to end it—Right now. Right here.”
Brendan lowers the volume of his headphones and squeezes through the mob, which is now thinning as people enter into their homerooms. Patrick hasn’t moved yet, he is still talking to Julia.
“Hey Patrick!” He is close enough now that Patrick could hear him, and he looks up and his eyes catch Brendan’s.
“Wha?” He seems annoyed to be interrupted.
Brendan stops running and stands in front of Patrick. “Oh, I uh…”
“Yeah, what? I hafta get to homeroom.”
“Bye, Patrick,” says Julia as she walks away, giving Brendan a cold glance with her light blue eyes. For a second Brendan watches her go with disdain, and then he focuses back on Patrick. “Oh, just wanted to ask you for that poem you read in class yesterday. I couldn’t find it when I looked at that website.”
“I don’t have a copy. Look, I hafta get to homeroom, so, just look again.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t on there, I mean, Laura Jana doesn’t even exist, I looked her up on every poetry website I know.”
“Look, dude, it’s not my problem. Gotta go now.” Patrick brushes by Brendan and walks through the door leading to his homeroom. The halls are almost clear now, so Brendan sighs and trudges into his homeroom and sits at his desk.
“You’re late.”
*
He is stuck working at night since the principal gave him detention for the whole rest of the week. And the walkout didn’t even work—goddam stupid high school. Was it all for nothing?
Luckily, he got Seth to switch shifts, but working later meant he got stuck with the busier hours—the post dinner shift, from 6-10pm.
Brendan stands at the register, his hands folded neatly on the counter. 9:45, reads the round black clock in the opposite corner of the chocolate shop. There is only one person left in the store, though many had been here that night. The sole person in the store is a woman, and she is slowly making her way through the store, as if she has no clue what she wanted to get when she came in. She’ll probably decide at 10:03, that’s what seems to happen with the last customer every time Brendan works the late shift.
“Hey Brendan!” Stan and a girl burst through the door to the storage room overcome with laughter. The woman looks up from the other end of the store and then focuses back on the chocolate. “This is Shelly. I woulda introduced her before but there was a line, so I didn’t wanna bother ya.”
“Hi,” Brendan doodles on his hand with the cash-register pen. His left hand reads, do history reading.
“Heya!” Shelly flashes Brendan a perfect white smile.
“I was just showing her how we fill up the rubber gloves with water in the sink.”
“Oh, that old trick. Did it explode this time?”
“Yah, it was pretty funny. So, you’re closing t’night, right?
“Yah, you can leave at ten—I’ll handle the stragglers.”
“Okay. Hey, do you mind if I leave now. I mean, like, I kinda gotta get Shelly back home by ten.”
“How’d she get here?”
“She was already in the mall with friends, but they left.”
“Ok, yeah…whatever.”
“Thanks, dude! I owe ya.” Stan winks and puts an arm around Shelly’s waist.
“Yeah… just… try not to do it again, alright?
“Oh, like, I don’t think the boss will care, dun’ worry ‘bout me.”
“…”
“Peace, man!”
“Yeah…peace…” Brendan lifts his hand to wave goodbye but Stan and Shelly are already giggling their way out of the store. The last song on Brendan’s CD fades out, and he stands in silence waiting for the woman to buy her chocolate. She does, at 9:55, when a man comes in and decides to browse.
“Sir, we’re about to close,” informs Brendan. The man lifts a reassuring gray-tan hand in the air and says, “I’ll just be a minute, don’t you worry, just a minute.”
Brendan finally clocked out of the chocolate store at 10:30 that night. He left the mall and walked along the dark, empty parking lot, where his car stood alone at the edge.
*
 
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Tutto e' Bene   
09:58pm 04/04/2004
 
mood: happy
music: "There you are" Goo Goo Dolls-->compliments of a cool roomie
Hey ya'll! Just wanted to say hi. Not much going on. I found out my new (but also used) Playstation 2 is not wokring, so I will hafta exchange it, gr. Oh well, at least I bought the warrante. I think I have bad PS2 karma or something.
Who knows.
Tutto e' bene. (everything is good).
Ciao tutti!
_rOSE :D
 
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"The days are just like moments turned to hours..." RAIN, from Cowboy BeBop   
12:24am 04/04/2004
 
mood: crazy
music: something that sounds nice coming from my roomie's computer
Well, my weekend was pretty decent. It wasn't boring, I had fun with my girls. <<>>!!! I even got an umbrella. I've decided I love umbrellas, I always feel so romantic when walking in the rain, remaining perfectly dry underneath that black orb. I love rain. Everyone around me complains about it, except maybe Paul, but I just love it. I mean, not always, but today I have been loving it.

RAIN, a song in Cowboy BeBop;

I don't feel a thing
and I stopped remembering
The days are just like moments turned to hours

Mother used to say
if you want, you'll find a way
Bet mother never danced through fire shower

Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain
I walk in the rain, in the rain
Is it right or is it wrong
and is it here that I belong

I don't hear a sound
Silent faces in the ground
The quiet screams, but I refuse to listen

If there is a hell
I'm sure this is how it smells
Wish this were a dream, but no, it isn't

Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain
I walk in the rain, in the rain
Am I right or am I wrong
and is it here that I belong

Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain
I walk in the rain, in the rain
Why do I feel so alone
For some reason I think of home

Yeah, so I am in water heaven today, cause it is raining.
I got some more done on my novel today, I'll post when the 2nd chapter is finished.

Peace and G'night.
-Rose
 
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