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Thursday, January 1st, 2004

Time:5:01 pm.
To any boy anywhere:

Sincerely and genuinely telling a girl you respect her is a sure way to win, and keep, her heart.

Yeah.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, December 11th, 2003

Subject:sixteen? not me
Time:9:38 pm.
Mood: exhausted.
I don't think I like sixteen so much. Sixteen is driving, sixteen is boys, sixteen is freedom, sixteen is beautiful. On television.

It just doesn't seem that way in real life. I know my life isn't hard, and that I have nothing to complain about. I know that there are starving kids all over the world, etc. But that's not the point. I just don't feel like I should be sixteen... I don't feel mature enough. I'm like a fricking twelve year old in a sixteen year old's body. I liked fifteen. It was comfortable. Fifteen was nice. I even like how the word sounds. But sixteen... I read that, and I feel like I should be out having premarital sex or something. Ok, maybe not that extreme. But sixteen just doesn't feel like me.

I know why I'm thinking about this, too: December 11th should be my birthday. Today was my due date in the hospital, but I was born almost exactly three weeks early. Meaning I should have been fifteen until today.

Why do I think about such stupid crap, anyway? I should be studying for my gay chemistry final, but I've already studied for different things for three hours today and I have no energy. Instead of reviewing what characteritics the alkaline group has, I'm sitting here typing about how I don't feel like I am age sixteen.

My dad and brother are off watching Extreme Makeover. Maybe I'll go join them. (have been extremely evil to the fam the past few days... must redeem myself.)
Comments: Add Your Own.

Monday, December 8th, 2003

Time:10:03 pm.
Mood: giddy.
ok. so we're going to sam's club to pick up our custom-made christmas cards with the picture my dad took on them. right?

[the female clerk hands my mother a pack of pictures and walks away]

mom: OOOH!! LINDSEY THESE ARE SO CUTE. SO SO CUTE (et cetera)
me: AAAH. THAT IS THE MOST TERRIBLE PICTURE I HAVE EVER SEEN OF MYSELF IN MY ENTIRE LIFE (et cetera)
mom: not it's not. it's cute. hey--

[she flags down the male clerk behind the counter. i promptly die.]

[note: male clerk was Extremely Cute, borderlining on Hot. actually no. i take that back. he was hot. really hot.]

mom: don't you think that this picture is cute?

clerk: [looks at picture, then at me. i promptly die again] yeah, it's cute... almost as cute as this. [he points to a turquoise sticker on his shirt that reads Disney Princesses and some DVD information in mice type.]

and then i died laughing.

man... he was hot!
Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.

Saturday, December 6th, 2003

Time:5:02 pm.
Mood: artistic.
Music:"a boy named sue".
i love starting pieces off with the word "And." it's so wonderful and poetic. eee.

have been working on the site and the writing, obviously.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, December 4th, 2003

Subject:[rant]
Time:8:51 pm.
Mood: annoyed.
Music:some pink song that i like. ahah..
How much do I hate cussing?

A whole lot, kids. It's filthy. It's filthy and it's a warning sign for that thing called DUMB. I swear. There are so many other words in the English language, so many other ways to express things-- cussing just shows that you're too lazy to come up with those words and would rather spout obscenities.

I'm not like IF YOU CUSS YOU'LL GO TO HELL or anything... I think all of us are guilty of it occasionally. When you miss the soccer goal by twenty feet. When you've locked yourself out of your neighbor's house and their stupid dog IN and you have no other key. When you realize you don't have any shoes halfway to church. When you completely bomb a test that you stayed up and studied all night for. Guilty of all of those, and I either screamed bad words in my head or aloud if you're alone.

And of course we're all guilty of the cussing phase. Usually hits in eighth or ninth grade. Suddenly you begin using cuss words; you like the sound of them on your tongue and how they make you feel to use them. Standoffish. Tough. Many people never leave that phase. But some of us realize what morons we were and stop it, and realize what a filthy thing it is.

People are so hypocritical, too... they're like d00d I'm the biggest Christian you'll ever meet and then they turn around and cuss. It's so gay. You guys SUCK, all of you.

[/rant]

<333 drink up me hearties yo ho... i'm out.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Wednesday, December 3rd, 2003

Subject:unrequital
Time:4:26 pm.
Mood: depressed.
Music:Garbage - only happy when it rains.
I hate this more than anything in the world.

I hate that I can't like a nice guy who happens to like me. It would be easier if he was a complete moron, or evil. I hate how perfect it could be, with Katy and Libba and their boyfriends who are friends with him.

But I just... don't like him. At all. Romantically speaking. Not even a tiny bit.

*groans*

So here I am. But he-- yes, he merits italicization-- is still the only person I like. And things with that had better fix themselves over winter break.

:'( I need a hug.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Monday, December 1st, 2003

Subject:riskiness
Time:10:01 pm.
Mood: thankful.
I complain about her, get irritated with her, but no matter how much I do these things-- no matter what she does-- I've still got to be grateful for Aubrey.

I'm seriously thinking of making this thing friends only.

Too risky.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Saturday, November 29th, 2003

Subject:FJASK;LDFJKL;ASJKDL;FJKAL;SDJL;AJ
Time:7:37 pm.
Mood:FJKL;SDAJ.
Music:AJFKLD;SJA.
HELLO

HOW BAD DO TAMPONS SUCK?

FJKSDA;JDFKLASJK;
Comments: Add Your Own.

Saturday, November 22nd, 2003

Subject:JFASL;DJF;A
Time:9:14 pm.
Mood: excited.
Music:HGL;FADJL;D.
OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYFREAKINGGOSH. EEEEE FJKLASJ;F

KATELYNN HAS FINALLY POSTED LA VIE ET AMOUR IN ITS ENTIRETY. ACTUALLY THAT LINK IS JUST TO PART ONE. BUT WHATEVER

DFJAK;SLDFJ;AS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

THIS MAKES ME WANT TO START UP MY DEAD NOVEL(S) AGAIN... OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG.

CAN YOU TELL I'M EXCITED????????/
Comments: Add Your Own.

Time:3:48 pm.
Mood: indescribable.
Music:TBS - Timberwolves at New Jersey.
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

- Emily Dickinson
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, November 20th, 2003

Time:4:42 pm.
Mood: cranky.
Chemistry: Same old, same old. Wait, actually, no. My teacher has sworn off bathroom jokes for this week, which has made chemistry very dull indeed. I never thought I'd long for fart jokes among the electron configurations.

Word Processing: Snuffled loudly the entire period. It was disgusting. I thought that we were past the snotty-nose phase in my cold, but apparently not. I sit there stuffing wads of tissues into my nostils while I'm sitting down, unable to breath, and talking like I've been snorting Drain-O, and then when I stand up the snot runs down into my throat like a mucusy Niagra Falls. I am momentarily unable to breath because of the convenient little OCEAN OF PHLEGM IN MY THROAT.

World History: AHAH. We finished watching the Joan of Ark (er, no idea how to spell that one) movie. Holy crap. I cried. There's Joan, tied to that stake or whatever, and they light the fires down at her feet. Her fictional love interest in the crowd looks up at her with emotion in his eyes she calls out for a cross to be brought forth so she could see it as she was dying (they have actual eyewitness accounts of this happening). So there she is, tied to that stick, with the flames licking farther and farther up toward her, and all you can see over the flames is a cross on a pole that Teh Boy is holding up for her. And she looks up at the sky (there's an aerial view here) and whispers, "Thank you. Thank you," to God. Oh man, I completely lost it.

Spanish: Turned in projects. Was mind-numbing. Drew more caricatures. Was satisfied. Was also lightheaded the entire period, as I'd just gotten hit very hard in the head by a locker door.

Lunch: I hate her. I hate her. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her. I had forgiveness in mind on my birthday. On my birthday, she was bearable. You want an example? I'll give you an example. She was talking about something stupid, mentioned a teacher who sounded like Ms. Kelly. I asked her if that was who she was talking about. She blatantly ignored the fact that I had spoken at all. I took a cleansing breath and asked again. She didn't even look at me. Sarah D. looked at me across the table and answered me clearly. She gave Nicole a weird, what's-your-problem look. But do you see? Do you see? That's how it IS! She was so nice to me on my birthday, I let up my guard a bit and actually had conversation with her. I even smiled. It was the same on the 19th. But today? Boom. She seemed to think she had me enchanted with her and the mistreatement started up again. Oh, how much I hate her.

Geometry: Parallelograms. Not a hard concept. We learned the theorems yesterday and today learned the converses of those theoroms. That means five sentences. He wrote five sentences on the board. We were supposed to copy them. Easy enough. Within two and a half minutes I had copied them, decorated the page with a border, and fashioned a bubble letter heading at the top. Mmm k. Fast forward fifteen minutes. We were still sitting there, and people were still copying five freaking sentences off of the board. By this time I had shaded my lettering and eaten three pieces of candy. Slowly I lowered my head down onto my desk, and the teacher immediately rushed to my side. He asked if I was feeling ok. I lifted my head from my desk and croaked, "It's just five sentences." He nodded and only then did he resume teaching, much to the discouragment of the rest of the class... they were only on number three.

Lit: Tiring. Discussions went nowhere. I had not read the pieces thoroughly at all so I did not contribute. Clear plastic coating on my book refused to come off. This was disappointing, as I find peeling that stuff off entertaining.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Sunday, November 16th, 2003

Time:5:57 pm.
Mood: scared.
Music:casting crowns - american dream.
Man.

Lots of crazy stuff... lots of crazy stuff. We're friends with this one family, and the dad happens to be my brother's soccer coach. Well, he also coaches his daughter's team, so it can be pretty hectic, coaching two teams at once.

There's this girl on his daughter's team that does not want to be there. Not at all. She's got a single mother who is forcing her to play and it creates problems. It doesn't help that she's a little freakish and unathletic to begin with. Anyway, he sticks her out there in a position, and she just stands there and does not move. She stands rooted on the eighteen. So naturally he yanks her out, because what good is she doing not moving like that? But her mom gets REALLY mad when he takes her out of the game.

So yesterday was their playoff game, right? He took her out as per usual but this time her mother started cussing him out from across the field on the parents side, saying all this stuff about how she'd get even or whatever which is totally dumb because her daughter's a freaking... aah I won't say it. Anyweh, coach gets home yesterday and there are 5 messages on his answering machine from the woman's ex husband threatening him. Threatening him. It's horrible. They say things about how he's going to shoot coach if he keeps on taking his daughter out.

Coach's kids knew nothing about it until this morning, when, as instructed by coach, the police showed up at the game. The ex-husband was there, and they made him leave. Now Michael-- that's coach's kid, my brother's best friend-- has been crying all day, because come on, someone's threatening to shoot his dad! Who wouldn't be scared and crying? And that maniac is still running around free! WHAT THE CRAP?!?!!1

Man oh man. Pray for their family.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Wednesday, November 12th, 2003

Time:9:38 pm.
Mood: surprised.
I'm putting this here out of LJ peer pressue. "But mom, everyone else was doing it!"

NOVEMBER:
Has a lot of ideas. Difficult to fathom. Thinks forward. Unique and brilliant. Extraordinary ideas. Sharp thinking. Fine and strong clairvoyance. Can become good doctors. Dynamic in personality. Secretive. Inquisitive. Knows how to dig secrets. Always thinking. (YES.) Less talkative but amiable. (Double yes.) Brave and generous. Patient. Stubborn and hard-hearted. If there is a will, there is a way. Determined. Never give up. Hardly becomes angry unless provoked. Loves to be alone. (YES!!1) Thinks differently from others. Motivates oneself. Does not appreciates praises. (No. Doesn't know how to accept praise, maybe, but I thrive on praise.) High-spirited. Well-built and tough. Deep love and emotions. Romantic. (ehehe yes.) Uncertain in relationships. (d00d yes.) Homely. (Unfortunately yes.) Hardworking. High abilities. Trustworthy. Honest and keeps secrets. (I try.) Not able to control emotions. Unpredictable.

All in all, scarily accurate.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Time:9:01 pm.
Mood: determined.
Wow... this has been about the suckiest week of all time.

But tomorrow I am DETERMINED to have a good day. I WILL HAVE A GOOD DAY, DANGIT, AND NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO STOP ME. I WILL PICK OUT AN OUTFIT TONIGHT AND BE TEH H0TZ0RZ, I WILL SPEND EXTRA TIME STRAIGHTENING MY HAIR IN THE MORNING, I WILL GO TO FCA AND BE ENERGIZED FOR THE DAY LIKE FCA ALWAYS DOES FOR ME, I WILL GO TO MY SOCCER BANQUET AFTER SCHOOL AND PAR-TAY HAR-DAY YO.

AFTER THIS WEEK, I DESERVE TO HAVE A GOOD DAY.

aaaaaaaiiiiiiieeeeeeeee
Comments: Add Your Own.

Tuesday, November 11th, 2003

Time:8:43 pm.
Mood: sick.
today sucked.

looked bad.

felt bad.

BAD.

and plus, I think I'm coming down with something. not that it would matter because Lindsey Does Not Miss School. never. I could be like hemorrhaging from the eyes or ears or belly button or hacking up hard green chunks and i'd still show up at that godforsaken building.

X_X
Comments: Add Your Own.

Saturday, November 8th, 2003

Subject:lalalallala
Time:10:45 pm.
Mood: giddy.
Why does my life rock?

1. I follow friends' love interests around the school attempting to eavesdrop
2. I was told by a third grader that I have a "professor laugh" (???) and took it as a compliment
3. I almost started a fight with a girl on the soccer field
4. I check for feet under the stalls in public restaurants to make sure the coast is clear before I sing or practice saying Spanish words with extra zeal
5. I can whoop any sixth grader around at ping pong
6. I probably swallow too much mouthwash every morning

Including this one.
Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.

Subject:dfhasdl;kj
Time:3:16 pm.
Mood: crazy.
¡Yo no puedo creer no es mantequilla!

AHAHAAHA *maniacal laughter*

fzzzzzzzt
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, November 6th, 2003

Subject:Sequence Insane - Lindsey's Crappy Prose!
Time:9:23 pm.
Mood: artistic.
Haven't written in a while... well, I finished a piece yesterday, and it disturbs me deeply. I don't know why. It's not impressive or wordy... just disturbing. The sentence structure is simple like woah. It was nice, for a change.

Sequence Insane
---

There is a woman with a puppy in overalls. She lives in a white house on Tandy Road. Her dog's name is Rett.

She gardens, and nothing else. From the time the sun comes up in the morning till it rests its magnificent orange head at dusk she gardens. She gardens with emotion; the petunias are buried into the ground with energy fueled by anger, the tulip bulbs buried with vigor fed by hate. The woman's landscaping is beautiful. The neighbors knock on her door to ask her garden tips, but she sits at the kitchen table and reads the newspaper.

Her nails are red. She leaves her home once a week to purchase groceries, get a manicure and buy dog food. The dog food is generic brand, just like everything else. It's poured into Rett's plastic bowl unceremoniously every morning at eight.

She wakes up early every morning at the same time without an alarm clock. The birds sing at her window. She sings her own bitter song in her head every second. It's tattooed on the stony slab of nothingness that was her heart.

The woman doesn't have a job. She has a plastic blue pool toy that sits in her backyard. It's always inflated; she keeps it that way. Rett leaves it alone. The rain glazes it with water but it never goes away because the pool toy is trustworthy. The woman likes this. It can't leave her, it can't betray her. It can just deflate, and even then, she can blow it back up again, or use the special repair tape that came in the package. The tape sits on the mantlepiece, just in case.

She likes numbers. Numbers don't lie; they can't decieve you. She counts every seed in every package before she plants them. She calculates the mean in her head. The average amount of seeds in every package she's ever gotten is seventeen. The woman remembers when she was seventeen. She hated it.

One day the woman is gone.

Rett barks from beside his empty food bowl in the kitchen. The blinking cat clock on the wall says half past eight. He wonders why he is so hungry today. He thinks this thought over and over again, because it's all he is capable of.

The begonias are pulled up in the front yard. So are the violets, and the sunflowers, and the tulips, and the petunias. And the roses. They sit in a heap in the middle of the yard.

The blue pool toy in the back yard is popped. Its sad cartoon eyes stare blankly skyward. The silence in the backyard is punctured only by the faint sound of Rett barking inside. His eyes still stare at the cat clock. He always saw the woman looking at this thing.

A bag of seeds sits on the steps. It's been ripped up, and the seeds blown away. The bits of paper on the wrapper containing with planting instructions blow away, too, but just into the next yard. The McCallisters, to the left of the white house, get a bit of paper containing best planting dates in the month of June. The Rollands get March. And Rett barks on and on, because it's nearly nine o'clock.

---
::headache::

it's been too long.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Tuesday, November 4th, 2003

Subject:Introspection.
Time:6:57 pm.
Mood: thoughtful.
Music:Linkin Park - Numb.
I have no idea why I'm updating. I have a speech to write that I have to deliver tomorrow sixth period. All of the logic in my head (does that even make sense?) is screaming at me ("LINDSEY!1!1!!!!1 WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, WENCH? YOU SHOULD BE WORKING ON TEH ESSAY") but I do my best to ignore it. Really, though.

Society is pressuring me to get a boyfriend. Katy got frenched, Libba is THIS close to getting Eric to ask her out (it should be any day now), and Becca's got a Ron Weasley clone. Libba's mom is like SO LINDSEY.... WHATS WRONG WITH YOU?? K GIRLS GET LINDSEY A BOYFRIEND and I'm just like *die* because really and honestly, I don't even want a boyfriend right now.

There. I said it.

I think all boys are stupid. I don't want to stress myself out even more right now; I really don't need that what with how I'm about to be kicked out of Beta Club, bomb finals as always, etc. I DO NOT NEED ADDED STRESS.

But (and this is uber embarrassing) it wouldn't hurt to feel, oh, I don't know, WANTED. That's my entire complex. I have this thing where while I don't necessarily have a boy, at least knowing I am desirable would help. A lot. Because I'm stupid and insecure like that. No, Dallyn doesn't count. Nor does Cade. Guys who use your mad math skillz for compliments don't count, nor do stalkers, respectively.

I think I'm feeling freakish and not myself and unconfident at the moment because I'm in the middle of a change. I'm ending my friendship with Nicole, and anyone who has spent as much flipping time with her as I have knows that it takes recovery time. You're not yourself when you're one of her friends, you're just an extension of her, a tool, a clone. This sounds bizarre, but I'm just taking time to figure out what my personality is again. I sort of lost it hanging out with them. Now I just need to figure out who I really am and regain any, er, social skills I lost whilst being Nicole's clone AND spending so much time online. I think that kind of vacuumed some of em up.

But I'm not complaining. I mean, think about this: If I hadn't figured out what a horrible person she is, then I would still be buried underneath all those layers of Nicoleness instead of getting out of it. I'd still have THE MOST ANNOYING PERSONALITY KNOWN TO MAN rather than what I have now, which is nothing. And believe me, I'd rather be the most boring kid around than Nicole. No joke.

I'm done. The introspection is over. Go home, kids. And be careful who you pick for your friends.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Sunday, November 2nd, 2003

Time:5:20 pm.
I really am buying this one of these days.

Comments: Add Your Own.

Blurty for smackie.

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You're looking at the latest 20 entries. Missed some entries? Then simply jump back 20 entries.