INDIEchouette


LITTLE BITCH
31 December, 2006, 1007 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Today, I’m extremely sick, disgusting, disgusted, and generally unhealthy.  I don’t even feel like doing anything.  I just sit around and stare at something until I realize I have to move.  My ears feel blocked, but hypersensitive.  I’m sniffling a lot, and there’s tons of disgusting mucus in my throat, which reminds me of that commercial with the green 3-D mucus blob living in some dude’s throat.  I have a headache, and my head’s very sensitive, and I’m occasionally dizzy, so I’m afraid to walk down the stairs.  When I walk, it feels like my body has a bunch of built-up momentum, so I can’t control my speed or direction, and thus, I walk into things.  I keep coughing and drinking soda and other fluids, and eating cough drops even though Halls cough drops make me want to puke because they’re too minty.  I couldn’t bring myself to shower yesterday because I was seriously afraid I’d suffocate in the shower steam.  The worst part of being this ill is that my mother seems to have no clue how sick I really am, that I can’t walk right, that I’m dizzy…she expects me to do all this shit around the house…”Let Louie out” when I’m not conscious enough to keep an eye on him and prevent him from being buffeted and killed by cats, “Clean your room/pick your clothes up off the floor” when I’m too dizzy to bend over without falling over completely, “Stop coughing” when it’s just a given of being sick.  And she publicly accuses me of being addicted to NyQuil, “jokingly,” naturally, because there’s a full and pretty old bottle of it in my room because I occasionally get night coughs, which bug the shit out of her, so she makes me take it.  I hate that bullshit (not NyQuil, her “ha-ha funny” accusations and lack of understanding).  She acts pissed off at me, but I haven’t been genuinely cold or barf sick for about three years, I guess because I have a pretty sweet immune system.  And now this, this is the worst sick I’ve been since I was about four or five years old and had to go to the emergency room for a coughing fit.  I don’t even feel alive.  And, oh yeah, I’m having severe separation anxiety, which would be at least partially cured by me not needing to be quarantined and recovering.

I need to get a shower now.  It feels like someone dumped a bucket of pizza grease directly on the crown of my head.  It’s gross.

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CONCERNING THE UFO SIGHTING
29 December, 2006, 810 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Yesterday was an amazing day that ended in me having the munchies and likely regaining the seven or eight pounds I’d lost since break began. Just kidding, sort of, but I know I’ve gained weight since we left Virginia. Plus, I woke up with a sore throat, and for some reason, whenever I have a sore throat, I fell barftastic.

Anywho, the Guitar Hero II festivities were scheduled to start at 7, but first, Nick and Sean really wanted to get some chicken wings at the Lewisburg Hotel, where they have an in-house special where you can get wings for 25 cents each on Thursdays. Rachael and I were bored out of our skulls, so we went along with them, venturing probably a mile into Lewisburg to the hotel just to get chicken wings. Sean kept scaring the shit out of Rachael by telling her, “This is the (second/third/fourth/sixtieth) scariest street in Lewisburg!” Which, of course, she was acting a good deal and likely not even frightened one bit, but for flirtatious effect, had to act “girly,” gullible, and stupid. That’s something I’ve vowed never to do ever again–change or belittle myself for the satisfaction of other people. I mean, honestly, they’re going to find out what you’re really like eventually. Why not just tell them the truth? That’s not to say you can’t be mysterious about the truth, just that you shouldn’t try to make yourself seem interesting with lies.

Well. We got the wings, and Sean dropped them on the sidewalk, so I carried them back to the house, and he and Nick were making fun of me because it’s ironic that I’m vegetarian and was forced to carry the wings, when I wasn’t even going to eat them.

At about 7, a few sticklike boys who looked 14 and 15 poured into the house, and not much later, some guys who looked older than me showed up. They were all n00bs. Rachael and I pwned their asses, mostly. There was a lot of fun-poking by Shannon, who was convinced that Rachael and I were in love with about half of them, which was obviously completely true, since I am definitely an advocate of the Sims 2 Romance lifestyle of having more than one love at once. Naturally. Oh, and it turned out that the kids who looked 14 or 15 were actually 16 and 17. It’s queer how off my age-guessing skills are when we’re not in Richmond.

After everyone left the party, I got the munchies, and Sean and I got on Runescape. He’s been playing for a grand total of two months, and he’s a level 54. What a n00b. When I got off Runescape, he got into nerd mode, where he talked to the computer, yelled at it, screamed at it, and yelled things like “Stab stab stab!” and “I needeth one more motherfuckingeth coineth!” His face was, quite literally, one inch away from the computer screen. I thought I was going to die laughing.

I couldn’t stay up, though, because of my sneezy sickness, so I went to sleep in the family room and left everyone else on the porch. A few minutes after I fell asleep, I heard hysterical laughing on Sean’s, Nick’s, and Rachael’s part, which woke me up. And I felt my head, to find a fistful of spaghetti in my hair. Once I’d chucked that across the room, I went back to sleep, only to be awoken again…when I found a bone from one of the wings in my hair. After I took that out, Sean kept replacing it. He then took the cold spaghetti and put it on my mom’s blanket, and she picked it up and threw it at him, and it hit his room’s door and stuck to it, which gave him and Nick a good giggle.

Honestly, though, I hate the way Rachael acts when we’re here, like there’s nothing to do but pick on me, and it’s only fun when Sean and Nick are making fun of me, too. Do I ever pick on her around Sean and Nick or strangers? Do I bring up embarrassing childhood or recent stories about her? Do I make fun of her body? No, I don’t. That’s not the way I operate, ever. I wish someone she admires would point that out to her and get her to fucking stop it, because the way she runs things is really low.

Mmk, I’m going to go put some food in Sean’s and Nick’s hair.



FREE AS A FUCKING BIRD, MY A$$
29 December, 2006, 809 am
Filed under: Music

DUDE I HATE FREE BIRD. GADDAMN.

We’re having a Guitar Hero II party at Sean’s house, Lewi isn’t that bad, Nick has a fro, and I hate Free Bird with a dying passion. Rachael discovered that those inconvenient-ass Henrico blocks don’t work here, at least on this connection, which is SWEET as fuck, since now I can update my comments and shit on Myspace and shit without hogging a computer that’s not fucking mine. Oh, fuck. I’m sick, by the way. Harharhar. It smells like Monster Energy Drink in here, which is grapey and mediciney. Fucckkkk.



SNEEZYKINS?
27 December, 2006, 802 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Instead of staying crammed in at Granddad’s all day, we ventured over to the Woods’ house.  I kept sneezing all day, which is unusual for me, since I don’t have any allergies.  I must have a cold.  Ugh.  Anyways, the kids had to go to their dad’s place at 5, so Aunt Katie took me and Rachael to Fuddrucker’s for dinner.  I hate the very idea of an ostrich burger; it pisses me off…but their veggie burgers are fantastic.  As in really yummy.  Again, I kept thinking of Richmond, because Fuddrucker’s reminds me of Cheeburger Cheeburger, and Neil Diamond reminds me of Nick Drake (same initials, not the sound), and Nick Drake reminds me of Garden State, and in turn, Garden State reminds me of two people: Erika and Derek, who are coincidentally probably the two people I miss most.  I’m getting fat from eating so well here; before at home, I only had one small meal a day, and here, I have two or three good-sized meals.  Hopefully, that will stop tomorrow, but right now, I’m a little hungry.  Maybe I should drink some olive oil.  Sean did that a few days ago and shat out the entire contents of his stomach.  Yum.  Actually, at this point, that might be a little refreshing.

 

Thank God Alexa’s sleeping at the Connors place tonight, though.  She was getting annoying, to say the least.  Rachael and I don’t get along ever in
Pennsylvania, but at least we can somewhat relate to one another, in our ideals.  Of course, this time, Rachael wants to stay in and be boring, and I have a thick desire to go out to the mall.  Ugh.



HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DARLING
27 December, 2006, 129 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

It’s Erika’s birthday, by the way. You know. “E-Dawg.” This is supposed to be a shout-out, but it’s turning out like Yu-Ghii-Oh. GHII. Harhar. That was inappropriate and wasted. Ugh. I miss her.

 

 

I rode on Alexa’s electric scooter, which goes I think up to 10 mph. It’s pretty fast, pretty breathtaking, and incredibly queer. I’m sick, but it’s the kind of cold where I just sneeze a lot and get a few headaches. Nothing too intense. I want to go out, to the mall. I’ve never wanted to go in public so badly.

 

 

My desire to see Derek escalates by the second. I can’t stand being here. I at least want to be at home, “home,” in Virginia. I’d have an internet connection over there, so I could communicate with people even if I sat at home all day every day. Ughh. I hate sniffling.



GRUMPYKINS
27 December, 2006, 1056 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

Gahd, I was grumpy last night because I had to sleep in the family room with all the good glory of Rachael, Alexa, Sean, and Shannon, all of whom were “not tired” and definitely not intent on sleeping.  I went up half a level to sleep in the room my mom was in, and finally fell asleep.  At maybe 4 am, I sneezed out the entire contents of my nose, and that almost caused Rachael to barf on the spot.  The good thing?  I’m not sick, and I didn’t throw up.  The bad thing?  Being cramped inside all day definitely isn’t my idea of fun.  I want to go to the mall.

 

Oh, and for now, I’m way sick of Guitar Hero II.  We’ve been playing it multiplayer nonstop for the past few days, and now, I either need some alone time with my career mode, or I just can’t play it.  This day is going to suck hxc.



ALL THINGS KNOW
26 December, 2006, 1006 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

At the Connors place, I felt some severe hostility towards my mother, probably mainly because of her absence.  Rachael and I spent a good majority of our time with our older, legal cousins Erin and Dan, plus some younger cousins.  We ended the evening in playing Spoons and Tongues with all our little girl cousins, plus Erin and Dan.

 

I don’t really think my father understands how much of an age gap there is between me and my next cousin in age, much less between even me and Rachael.  It’s like he doesn’t know I’m sixteen and horrible with children.  I half-think he expects me to get down on all fours and pretend I’m a cat, like my six-year-old cousins were doing.

 

As for my grandmother, she can’t take me seriously, I think mainly because she knows I’m so much like my mother, such a mommy’s girl, and she may even know that I’m practically acting as the biased mediator in this situation.  She inquired about Derek, half-seriously, and I couldn’t think of any adjectives to describe him but “nice.”  But it’s not because I only think of him as “nice;” I just didn’t feel like telling her because I knew she wouldn’t care or take me as entirely serious as I am.  I can’t sum him up in a few words; there’s a whole story behind how I know him and how we’ve gotten to this point.  I knew she wouldn’t be intent on hearing it, or else she’d think I’m some crazy teenager.  Because with that side of the family, it’s “been there, done that.”  Everyone automatically has to know what you’re talking about.  If you’re in a teen relationship, well, man, you’ll be out of that lickety-split in a few days or a month.  You’re also the stereotypical irresponsible teenager who’s going to make all bad choices until you hit 21 or 23.  I don’t get it, and I don’t like it.  In fact, I hate it.  I can’t stand that attitude.  At least on my mom’s side, everyone can relate to the teenagers, because it’s a new experience.  They’re not necessarily giving advice and preaching.  They’re listening to your story.

 

At this point in my life, I hate talking about colleges.  I’m a junior.  I couldn’t get into an Ivy League school if I wanted to.  I want to go to Canada or the Midwest for college.  I want to write, maybe for a magazine.  I have no idea what exactly I’m going to do with my life, except the here and the now, which is high school, band, hang out, watch movies.  Live.  I know I would love to visit Canada and meet cultured people who think I’m interesting, because it seems like most people I meet have the same old life story as me, and thus, they’re not interested.  And hopefully, when I meet more of these people, some of their culture will rub off on me.  I’m not old enough to do any of that yet.  I’m not ready.

 

Aah, I miss Derek.  If he reads this, I imagine he’ll be way embarrassed.  Or not?  I feel so lame for coming out and saying it, especially on day two without him immediately close, but I’m not going to be able to see him for over a week, unless I get called to London on special business to be near him.  And really, he beats (pwns) my family on the interesting scale.  I miss being appreciated, and I miss appreciating, because my family doesn’t appreciate me, and I reciprocate their lack of appreciation.  I’m having the most intense form of separation anxiety, where if my mind’s not busy, I think immediately about the last movie we saw, or of songs that remind me of him.  Or I’ll listen to those songs that remind me of him.  I feel like crying, but that might just be lack of sleep catching up on me; I’m damn tired.

 

079 hug by >=> Mãhi Teshneh on Flickr

 

I also miss Erika insanely, what with her also being out of the country, and it’s odd not being able to communicate with her much, considering that normally when I’m in a pickle of some sort, I’ll tell her every last godforsaken detail, and instead of minding like most people would, she appreciates it.  Nowadays, I keep everything to myself, and it gets built up, I guess, so I need to tell separate people separate details, which is inconvenient.  Bedtime.