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Post by fico on May 25, 2003 16:02:01 GMT -5
5.25.o3
LOOK OUT ON A SUMMER'S DAY / WITH EYES THAT KNOW THE DARKNESS IN MY SOUL
4:26pm. Some things are almost beyond comprehension, they're so beautiful. Such as words so articulate, and so amazingly descriptive, it's poetry to hear. and when crying don't help you can't compose yourself it's best to compose a poem, an honest verse of longing or a simple song of hope Or finding something that speaks to you so strongly, you're breathless at the thought that you didn't notice you didn't have it before. Or seeing something so reminiscent of your soul you almost can't stand the thought that it won't exist forever; it's like realizing you can never exist forever, only worse because the things we leave behind can survive much longer than we ever could.
I tried to describe this to someone in a letter yesterday. I don't know how good a job I did. if i wrote you
I'm so vicariously full of life. Everything I do. I'm so... "alive". it's another world we live in here so radical and clean But I think this is the difference between life and Life. I only have life, which is more than enough to be grateful for. But there are people out there who are Alive. They're creating things. I think that might be what Life is, creation. No one is ever really Alive unless they're making more life.
I look at pictures and it's like someone textured me into the painting. It's like they made a picture of something, and that's the visual part, but the part that you can feel, that's what I am. time can run its fingers through our hair, paint us white and silver there I hear songs and it's like someone connects me. I'm not the lyrics or the instruments or anything, I'm the overall effect. everybody's talking at me; i can't hear a word they say, only the echoes of my mind I read words and it's like someone speaking through me. I'm not the words or the meanings, only the messenger. have you ever read someone's words like water in the desert
I'm sitting here, and I can't make anything. Nothing beautiful. Nothing with real Truth. Nothing which creates life. I can only quote the Life around me.
I now have exactly one poster on my ceiling. It is the only one I will ever put up there.
this little yellow house has too many rooms, and i sit all alone and cry
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Post by iamjack on May 25, 2003 16:37:01 GMT -5
You need some blues. I think it was Little Walter, when asked why he was so happy despite playing the blues, said that the blues were not about being sad. No...the blues are the direct decendent of the old Negro spirituals. The blues are about solving your problems.
I know that whenever I listen to the blues, I feel better. Remember the words of Albert King, who said:
"If you don't dig this, you got a hole in your soul."
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Post by fico on May 31, 2003 14:15:15 GMT -5
5.31.o3
WARNING: the following journal entry it boring. just thought you ought to know.
MY HEART HAS THAWED AND CONTINUES TO BEAT
3:10pm. (Thanks, Jack. I ordered some from the library, 'cause my branch has a really sucky music selection. But they haven't come in yet. Though I'm going today to double-check.)
Rue got her grades back, and we called the homeschooling evaluator. I have to have three ten-page papers ready by 1700 on Monday. Don't quite know how I'm going to manage to write two more good ones. I'm using a story for one of them. I came up with a good idea for one, and I started it (all of three sentences ), but I can't go from there to anywhere else. I think I'll have to re-start it (for the fourth time). But I don't just want to drop the idea, because I really like the idea I've got.
I've also got the idea of doing a biography. It's easy to make biographies ten pages, and it's fun too. I'm thinking Vincent Van Gogh, since I need to learn more about him anyway.
Bet's and my balloon ride was cancelled... again.
I feel more girly today than I have in a long time. A really long time. I'm wearing pants that aren't baggy-as-all-hell. This is a big thing for me. Dunno what brought it on, but it's here.
Big things happened, but nothing I really want to talk about.
I'm listening to a lot of Bright Eyes. More specifically, the album "letting off the Happiness". It's amazingly good.
I'm hungry, and I have to get to the library and back before four o'clock.
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Post by fico on Jun 6, 2003 16:10:22 GMT -5
6.6.o3
LET'S SAIL AWAY
Sat.4:31.pm. I am beside myself again. I am in one place, physically, but my mind is outside of that. The consequential feeling is not pleasant.
It somewhat resembles the feeling of everything going on around you. But now I am going on around me. I'm not really here anymore.
My body has painted the thumb and pinky nails of my left hand, and the ring finger of my right hand, with black nail-polish. Not the whole finger, just the nails. It's very cheap paint, and even though I painted them yesterday (and did a damn-good job, considering my complete lack of experience with most-things-feminine), it's already chipping and getting divots and things. I don't know why that upsets me as much as it does. Partly because I made a choice in allowing that paint to be a part of me, and it's already leaving. Partly because I don't like having to maintain physical things. Mainly the former.
Yesterday, I had a very cool conversation with a very cool person. [Vik] is just... a very cool person. You know how, if you don't want to talk about sex with your parents, you can talk to a school counsellor or something? It was like that. There were people I could have talked to, but Vik knew what I was on about, and he didn't know me personally yet. (I mean, you know how when you want to be judged fairly, you go to the people who barely knows you or who don't know you at all, or something? You don't go to the people who actually know you. Because then they have a biased/prejudiced opinion, depending. They won't be objective simply because they can't be objective at that point. Vik was very objective.)
It was good talking to him. He seemed to treat me a little bit like a kid, which I guess I can understand. I mean, I'm only just eighteen, right? It's understandable that I'm still very kiddish... that doesn't mean I like to be reminded of it though. But I mean, Vik's probably twenty-eight or older. He's done the whole college-thing, the whole life-partner-thing, the whole live-in-the-world-thing. He's got a perspective I won't have for years. And then, when I finally get that perspective, I'll meet some little snot, who's eighteen and thinks s/he knows what's what, and I'll laugh inside but try not to sound too condescending to hir virgin ears. And I'll remember my talk with Vik and realize what a shit I was being for getting hung up over the fact that he didn't regard me as an equal from the get-go. I'm especially a shit because I went to him asking questions, like, that was the whole point of our meeting. Of course he's going to take on the teacher-role, if I ask him to take it on like that. I think I've just had way too much experience with teachers-as-friends, and it all happened long enough ago, that I don't remember that it takes a little while for them to realize that you're okay with being friends with them, and then it takes a while to actually become friends with them, with anyone really.
When I got home from meeting him (I called him from Chaia's house; he lives far away so we just talked on the phone), I painted my nails soon after. I guess you could say I was proving something to the both of us, even though he wasn't there to get the point. But I'm not sure if I actually proved it or if I only succeeded in proving that I have everything ass-backwards. He gave me a lot to think about. Including the fact that it's very possible I've got everything about myself wrong.
I sort of fought that idea simply because I'm so accustomed to getting everything right. I started introspection in 5th grade. I remember the first time I tried it. And after that, I was hooked. And I just developed it and developed it. And now I don't make a decision unless I've thought about why I want that. That was the main condescention-vibe I got from Vik: that he thought I hadn't thought things through enough. Which, frankly, might be true. But I didn't want to hear it then.
I guess I've heard it now, though. So I guess I'll think things through some more.
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IRL updates: I have to go to a Scholarship Dinner tonight. If they have a part where they congratulate us and makes us stand up when our names are called, I think I'm liable to walk out. I don't like things like that. I don't like being congratulated for things I don't feel I've earned. One highlight: Lani will be there. We can talk about cool things and try to cheer each other up.
After the dinner, I'm going to a cancer-walk thing. It's pretty much a big event that gets people to donate money to cancer-research and cancer-patients and things like that. It's a cool idea, and I get credit for staying up all night and going on a long walk. This is very cool as that's what I do most nights anyway.
After pulling the all-nighter, we've got Hungarian Day. I'm going to see Amy, not sure what I think about that. I'm going to dress up like a Hungarian cowboy and crack my whip. It should be fun... except that my shoulders will be dead half-way through.
Then I have a frenzied few days of practicing guitar (since it's staying at home), packing, finishing presents, and miscellaneous other things before we leave on our vacation next Thursday.
I finished all my stuff for highschool; I just have to mail things off to Harrisburg, and they just have to review my stuff and mail me a diploma. *flatly*: A-woo-hoo.
I got a package from Coe today. They sent me a big binder full of stuff telling me what's what. Some of it was interesting, a bunch of it was paper-work, some of it was dead-boring. I read some cool stuff though, a really good essay, things like that. I think I know what I would like to take for my first semester's classes... I think.
I am wearing a bracelet that's done in this design of... sort of celtic-knotwork. I'm not sure exactly what I want to symbolize by wearing it, but it's important, whatever it is.
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Post by fico on Jun 10, 2003 1:13:10 GMT -5
6.10.o3
Tues. 2:09 am. I hate the entries where I just list things that have happened. But this is going to be one. It's technically Laszlo's turn on the computer, but he's being nice. And even if I could come up with the words to express what happened elegantly, I don't have time to try.
Suffice it to say that I'm still screwy because my reading is screwy, but today was a good day. I figured out the last bit of a present I'm giving someone. I read a lot with Chaia. I had a good talk or two with her. I read her the newest story I started. And (bum bum buuuuum) I got a letter from Piper. This is mucho-exciting. She wrote it ages ago (May 19th), but it only got here today. This makes me feel good. After starting and stopping a bunch of times, I finally managed to write a letter to her that I'm not too embarrassed about. Geez. You're not supposed to get this nervous about other people. There should be a law or something. It's way too nerve-wracking.
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Post by fico on Jun 10, 2003 12:44:43 GMT -5
6.10.o3
WE'LL DISAPPEAR FROM A ROAD ONE NIGHT, LIKE TEREZA AND TOMAS, SUSPENDED IN THIS BLISS.
Tues. 1:15pm. I woke up crying today. Or rather, I was crying in my dream, and I was making the noises in my sleep, and when I actually woke up, I started to cry. I never had that bad a dream before.
There was a part in the beginning that involved me wanting to get my hair dyed, and a kid who liked the White Stripes, and Airlia giving me back the eggroll she owes me. Those aren't the important parts.
We lived in the same house as now, but there was only Rue, Airlia, mom and me. We had these animals, cats and a dog, I guess. The dog looked like Willow. Mom wasn't really mom. I mean, she looked like my mom, but my mom isn't like that. This mom was mean. Like, I know I complain about my mom a lot, but she actually is a pretty cool person, and she is really sweet, and all that. This mom wasn't.
I saw the mom in, like, "visions" or something, visions of the future, and I saw her killing the animals, simply because she wanted them dead. The animals were kind of servents for us. The house was half-beautiful, like a mansion, and half-dilapidated. Guess which part the animals lived in.
So one day, I'm getting something off the fridge, and I notice a hole that goes to the other side of the house, where the animals live. I see fire at the end of it. I start to push the smoke back in the hole. For some reason, I thought that would stop the fire.
Mom came in, saw what I was doing, and told me to get ready to leave. She said because this is the day our house will burn down. There was an accident on the other side of the house, and no one would be able to ferret through all those places. So we wouldn't even bother with the fire department, we'd just leave. (I guess she also wanted the insurance.)
I packed a backpack really quickly. I was all distressed because I couldn't take too much. It would look suspicious if I did. And I didn't know what was most important to me that I could get away with. I settled for some of my books and my sandalwood box. Rue had a backpack stuffed and she also had some sort of comfort-animal, which she doesn't own IRL. I don't know what Airlia had.
And then I remembered that vision of the mom killing two of the animals. She had "personal grievances" with them. Hated them for some reason I can't begin to understand. She had had a vision of the house burning down; I had had a vision of her killing the animals.
So I went to the animal-side of the house. I had something heavy with me. I found the Willow-looking animal and tried to kill it. Because I didn't want the mom to. She would kill it because she thought that would be hurting it. I wanted to kill it because I didn't want the mom to be able to get any satisfaction, and because I knew I would put the animal through as little pain as I could.
But I couldn't kill it. I whacked her on the head with something that looked like a coconut. Those things are damn hard. But I couldn't hit her hard enough. She didn't even turn around. She just looked out a window as I hit her. So I picked up the bottom half of a vacuum cleaner, one of those plastic cylinder things. I could get a better grip with it. I hit her on the head a few more times. I had been trying to kill her off quick, and here I was prolonging it. She started to blink her eyes stupidly, as though she were losing it. But she wasn't whining or crying or anything. The mom had put her through enough over the years that I guess I couldn't hurt her. But it hurt me to see her slowly dying, rather than quick like I wanted it.
The mom came in with a metal pot, a pretty big one. I started frantically screaming for the mom to kill her, just kill her. She was still doing that blinking thing, and the mom was just watching. I nudged the mom with the vacuum-cleaner, and she recoiled from the dirtyness in the same way my mom does. "Just KILL HER!!" I woke up from how upset I was, and the mom still hadn't killed her.
I woke up breathing all heavy, exactly as I had been in the dream. And I sat straight up and opened my closet doors and listened to the music. The softest Bright Eyes song I know was playing, but it didn't help yet. I just looked around, and I heard my breathing, and I started to cry. I cried really frantically for less than a minute. But I felt as wiped out as you do when you cry for half an hour straight.
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Post by fico on Jun 11, 2003 1:24:47 GMT -5
6.11.o3
WELL I COME FROM THE RURAL MIDWEST. IT'S THE LAND I LOVE MORE THAN ALL THE REST.
Wed. 2:08am. Despite it's pretty horrible beginning, my day wasn't so bad. Pretty uneventful, actually, but in a comfortable way. As though I had fallen into a groove for a little while, and this was my life at its grooviest.
I went to the library and returned half their stock. We're leaving for Arizona on Thursday. Wow. That's so soon. I haven't packed. Hell, I haven't even done my laundry yet. Tomorrow will be busy.
I also worked for Chaia. That was cool. She paid me and Rue in advance, so we could pay back my mom for some stuff and so we could have some cash for the trip. I have all of twenty-one dollars to my name, after giving my mom fifty. I'll have hardly any after tomorrow. I have to buy a book. Rue says I can borrow from her to get the fifth Harry Potter book.
I've been thinking about God lately. In a back-of-the-head type of way. I'm angry with him, and I don't know why. That's distressing. Because... Well Chaia and I were talking. She's okay with being mad at God. I mean, sometimes you just have to work things out with him, right? She tells him to fuck off. He reminds her that they love each other. She calms down. She says he's still being a bastard, and then they're okay. I told Chaia that was really cool, and I could probably do that, but only after I knew what I was mad about. I don't believe in getting mad at someone for a bad reason, or for no reason. I think I might be mad at him for no reason. Which would make me feel shitty as anything, but whatever. But yeah. I've been thinking about that.
I've also been organising and planning. Mom and I are talking about how we're going to handle driving, since we're the only two driving out there. And Rue and I are talking a lot about college, about how we're going to keep in touch, and what we're going to do on breaks, and things like that.
Get this: Coe's classes start on the twenty-fifth? I think that's right. Orientation for first-years starts on the eighteenth. Orientation for the Writing Center starts on the sixteenth. So I have to be there on the sixteenth. Simon's Rock starts orientation on the sixteenth. What are the odds? Simon's Rock is in Massachusettes. Coe is in Iowa. We have one car. This makes things interesting. But we got it all settled out. Mom called Coe and checked if I could go early. They said I could drop my stuff off at the dorm on the fourteenth, but I wasn't allowed to sleep there until the sixteenth, 'cause that's when the staff arrives. Thanks to a mutual, Iowan friend, I have a place to kip for the two days before the Writing Center kicks off. I'm starting to get excited. Really excited.
Which is what distresses me. Because I do that a lot, where I get excited about something, and then it's not as good as I hoped, or it's different in a significant-enough way, or something. Like, I've wanted a VW buggy for years and years. But at this point, if I ever actually got one, what would it mean to me? I mean, I'm more attached to the idea of being a person who's always wanted a buggy than I am to the idea of being a person who has one.
This is why I'm somewhat wary of going to Arizona. I've worked Gabi and Brit up into these people in my head. They're absolutely amazing. But they're not going to be who I imagine they are. I know they'll be great, but I don't know how. And I don't know... it's sort of bothering me. It's kind of like that anticipation thing Nialle talked about in hir journal a while back. How you anticipate something so much that when it gets there, you're too worn out to enjoy it properly. Something like that anyway.
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Post by fico on Jul 2, 2003 9:31:10 GMT -5
6.14.o3
WE'RE A FAMILY AND WE'RE A TREE, OUR ROOTS GO DEEP DOWN IN HISTORY
Sat. 11:44am EST; 10:44am Missouri-time. We're on out way to visiting my mom's first cousin and her family. This will be the first time I'll see some relatives in years, literally. Unless you count visiting my grandfather s grave, which I don't, mainly because he died before I was born, so it's not like I remember him when we visit.
But I still like going. I like how my dad gets all quiet. I like how we all get quiet for him. And then he'll say something to break the silence, and we'll start asking some questions about nagypapa.1 After a little while, we run out of questions. That's usually when I leave the building (nagypapa was cremated) and wanser around the graveyard for a little bit.
I'm not exactly sure why I like those visits. I think because I get to see my dad as more than just my dad, 'cause he's someone's son too. And because it gives me a sense of being. [paraphrase]"Home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in."[/paraphrase] I wouldn't say that that's what "home" is. I think that home is more where you're the one taking other people in. But I think that's maybe what family is. I can sort of understand where the Malfoys are comeing from. I can sort of understand how people can be more inclined toward their own families. The Malfoys just took it too far in the wrong direction.
Apparently, Mom's cousins are those really honest people, they say half of what they think. Ever since I learned people like that existed, I've wanted to hang out with some. I don't think I woulc handle it all the time, but I'm hoping for a refreshing change from most of what I'm used to. That's one of my favorite things about Gilt; she doesn't bullshit me.
Things I'm not supposed to mention while visiting my mom's first cousins (would that make them my 2nd cousins?): alcohol, that I'm bi, that I'm not Christian. I'm not sure how I feel about censoring myself. Bt I think it would be cool to meet them and maybe get to know them. I can be more "honest" once we've gotten to know each other, if we ever get to know each other. But I don't feel too bad about it. Mainly because it's not like I go up to everyone telling them my takes on alcohol, sexuality, and religion.
I wish I had memories of being forced to talk to an annoying younger cousin, or having to deal with an aunt who always kissed me, or having to visit a family whin I just wanted to hang out with Bet. I wish I had crazy family stories. I wish I had ways of introducing all my family members. You konw how people get a reputation and can't get rid of it, at least not wihtin the family? I wish I had those. "There's James, he wet the bed until he was ten. And that's Michelle, her bathing suit fell off at Sesame Place. And there's Charlie..." I wish I knew what my introduction phrase would be.
I think that's why I can't see myself moving out of the country, not unless I marry a foreigner anyway. I used to dream of the day I would finally get to more out, to Scotland or Hungray or Switzerland or something. Some place cool, that I had visited and loved. But now that I'm looking at it again, I don't think I want to move away from everyone. I used to, or at least, I wouldn't mind it too much, being that far way. But now I think I would mind. Maybe even a lot.
I want to have those huge family reunions. Those holiday-ge-togethers where the kids wreak constant havoc while the adults sit talking. Where people exchange pictures and stories with family members they haven't seen in a year or so. I love having so many brothers and sisters. I love that we all want some kids of our own. I hope we can manage to have those family-get-togethers. I hope everyone will want to do them, or at least feel a strong enough obligation that they do it anyway.
---------------------------------- 1. nagypapa: Hungarian for "grandfather". Directly translated, it means "big daddy".[/12:33pm EST]
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Post by fico on Jul 3, 2003 18:45:14 GMT -5
6.17.o3
SHAKEDOWN 1979, COOL KIDS NEVER HAVE THE TIME
Tues. 11:56am EST; 6:56am Arizona-time. So many things happen in just a few days. The funny thing is that that many things always happen. We're just used to it, so it's not worth mentioning. And now that I'm forced to have a different schedule, everything feels so new, so un-used.
The visit with my mom's first cousins was cool. [Mary Elizabeth] was... like mom only more so, if you can imagine that. ("I'm from New Jersey. It's like Ohio, but even more so, imagine that.") They're both so very Hufflepuff, it's insane. Mary Elizabeth talks like nothing else, but not in a bad way. And half the time she was talking, she was saying about what stuff she does for people. She really likes making quilts, a lot. And she made some for a whole group of people. One of the people at her church said she shouldn't because some of those people didn't even go to church. Mary Elizabeth said that didn't matter, everyone got a quilt. She likes to put at least one thing about Jesus onto every quilt she makes. And she's just good.
The town they lived in was really different. Everything was... smaller? It felt smaller, anyway. Everything was dirty, but in a dirty way, just in a that's-how-it-is-sometimes way. It was fun visiting.
We got semi-lost in Oklahoma. I don't know how it happened because I was working on a present for Gabi. I just noticed I couldn't underline the book anymore because the car was bouncing too much. I looked up, and there were fields everywhere except for the gravel road we were on. The roads we took were all too small to be on our map, so we just guessed. Rue really is good at orientation (though she did have her compass ), and we got back ont he main road.
We passed all these fields. Oklahoma is a bit hillier than Iowa, but it's pretty much just as deserted. We were driving along, and we could see for a while, but not forever. There were houses every now and then, though I've got the feeling there were some food shortcuts through some of those fields. I don't know. It felt close in a good way. Who are you going ot rely on except your neighbours when you live out in the middle of nowhere? I've wanted to live on a farm for the longest time, since I was ten or something. Not in a I-like-the-animals, not in a oh,-but-I-like-the-smell-of-manure way, just in a need-based way. I like how the people are interdependent. I like how I would have to work in a field. I like the idea of canning things to eat in winter, screw grocery stores. I like the idea of knowing everything that has to happen to keep a farm running. Oklahoma felt good like that.
We got to Oklahoma City around 11:00pm, can't remember whose time, , pretty sure Oklahoma-time. We could see it from ages away because it had, like, twelve radio towers or something. I was driving. Honest, you hvaen't driven properly until you go through Oklahoma City (on Rt. 40?) on one of those highway-bypass things, late-ish at night. It's all swoopy and fun. And it's like all the drivers are this one big organism. Like they're carrier cells or something, taking important pieces of the one organism to another part of itself.
We passed through Kansas for, like, all of ten minutes. So, of course, Rue told mom to pull over somewhere where we could all step on Kansas-soil. ( She is so great.) All us kids stuck a foot out, except Airlia crawled over me 'cause she had asphalt on her side of the car. Just for the record, Kansas-grass feels just like Pennsylvania-grass after a dry spell, but when it's still wet enough to have properly green grass.
Texas was uneventful. We ended up having to step in it, for breakfast. Texas is just funny. Like, half the people Rue and I don't like are from Texas. ('Course, Brit is the cool Texan we know, the exception that proves the rule, I guess.) *coughbushcough* We stopped at Denny's (Airlia's choice) and couldn't figure out why everyone was dressed up. (I was wearing my black sweatshirt, the one with a million holes in it. It's now held together in some places with safety pins.) Turned out it was Sunday. (*brain plays some thouhgt-hop and remembers something* No. 1 thing I absolutely did not like about Oklahoma: a billboard that said "Dear Mr. Bush, DON'T HOLD BACK." That was kind of scary. I mean, I know there must be people there who don't feel that way. But it was just... the combination of that billboard plus as many churches as houses... it made me wary.)
New Mexico was flat, dude. I mean, I knew it would be, but there's a difference between knowing something and experiencing it. Geez. I felt vaguely agoraphobic in Iowa. This place didn't even have gently sloping hills or anything. It didn't even know the definition of the word "hill".
But it was really beautiful. It had this... frozen beauty. Everything was stuck in place. The road, the bushes, the mesas in the distance, the clouds. I mean, there was wind, but the bushes and clouds didn't even blow around or anything. You could go there and take hours and hours on a painting, and everying would pose for you.
We stopped in Santa Fe ("Santa Fe, I'll be there. Do you swear you won't forget me?) for a bit. Visited Santa Fe's St. John's campus. The city was having a craft-show type of thing. I got some cool beads and talked to a cool woman. She taught me how to make some bead-jewelry things. (I love people who share trade-secrets.) And we went to these museums. I got two cards, one for Bet and one for Nialle. (I hadn't been planning on getting one for Nialle, but it was a card of St. Drogo, the patron of coffee, how perfect can you get? ) I also got a book on these designs, I think they're Aztec? (*edit* Mola designs.) Either way, they're absolutely gorgeous. They make these designs on sort of like small mats, sort of like a quilt. The weird thing is that Chaia's going to give me one when I go to college. I think she would like if I made her one to replace the one she's giving me. Cool thing: the New Mexico welcome center had a computer with internet access that we were allowed to use. It was Sunday, so Rue and I got to weigh in. *grinny*
We did all this with time to spare. We had to check in at 3 pm on Monday. So we also stopped at the petrified forest. They've got this store that I remember from when I was younger, or at least a store like it. I got some cool stuff, including a piece of hematite (one of my favorite types of stone) for Bet and a piece of something else for myself. I also got some small pieces of petrified wood with holes in them. I got ten pieces for two dollars. I'm going to pick two themes and make ten bracelets or necklaces or something. I've got some ideas for what the themse will be, but I have to wait a while to see how one will turn out.
The first bit of Arizona is a bit of a blur. Honestly, I was pretty out of it. I hadn't slept well the past few nights. And my allergies started acting up like nothing else. It was awful, stuffy nose with cotton head and a sinus headache. Bleh.
But we took this road that wound through the mountains. It was cool. And Arizona-colors look really bland at first, but you get used to them. And I saw these bushes that were like... okay. The branches were grey-ish, not brown. Some of the leaves were a muted green, whil others were a solid brown/red. And when they're all clumped together in the semi-distance, they make my five favorite colors. Brown and grey and green and dark-dark-red and some of the grey looks blue. It's really beautiful.
And I'm still absorbing the fact that I met Gabi and Brit. I'll have to get back to you on that one.
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Post by fico on Jul 3, 2003 19:12:52 GMT -5
6.24.o3
AND I DON'T EVEN CARE TO SHAKE THESE ZIPPER BLUES
Tues. 2:44pm EST; 12:44pm Colorado-time. We left yesterday morning. We're driving up through Four Corners, then we went through Wolf Creek Pass, then up through Denver. We'll head through Nebraska (going through Omaha, woo-hoo for Bright Eyes!), then into Iowa. The trip is starting to wind down, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. I'm tired of never knowing where I am and of seeing scenery that doesn't feel right. Colorado felt good for a long time, but that was when I was driving through the mountains. I'm all for exploring, honest I am. But I like to hang out in one place and really get my bearings before going on. I'm the type that goes on sabbatical, not vacation. At least there's grass again.
There are all these fences everywhere. I mean everywhere. In the dead areas of New Mexico even, int he deadest patches of Arizona. I wonder what the hell we're seperating a lot of useless land for anyway. I sometimes saw animals. I guess they have such large enclosures out there 'cause the animals need that much land just to find enough food? That would make sense.
Anyway, like I said, I drove through the mountains. It was fun. We went about 10mph on the way up, 'cause it was so steep and the car is so loaded. But jeez. I was listening to a cd gabi burned for Rue and me. It starts with "1979" by the Smashing Pumpkins. It was the perfect song, the perfect cd, for that drive. It was a cold, clear night, with a late-rising moon, and a thin moon at that. With almost no light pollution (lots of people choose not to live halfway up a mountain) and that much less atmosphere, it was just gorgeous. We stopped the car for a bit at the top of the pass. We were probably around 9,250 ft up. The air was crisp and cold, which felt marvellous after so much time in AZ. I saw the Milky Way clear as anything, and I picked out the Big Dipper and Orion; I also saw two constellations that I recognized but couldn't begin to name. I would love to live near there. On the way back down, we passed through a town that I liked. Not sure why I liked it, but I did. Had a school. And I would love being able to go up there and study constellations.
I wonder where in Colorado Jack's from... [edit]Erm... *blush* Jack's from Idaho...[/edit] Rue and I both wondered that. She was asleep during the mountain-drive.
... Gabi and Brit were different from what I expected. (Guys, if you read this, lemme know or something, 'cause I want to make sure you know what I mean, and I want to know if I say anything you don't like, for whatever reason.) Gabi looked different, despite pictures. And she acted differently toward her siblings than I expected. That was stupid of me, 'cause I kind of expected her to regard them as I regard mine. I forgot the obvious factor that she's the oldest of five, while I'm a middle child of six, plus my youngest is 13 while her's is 7. She was also... quieter(?) than I expected. I sort of thought she was generally off the wall and calmed down occasionally to read or do trapdoor or whatever. But she was kind of the opposite. *shrug* Stupid assumptions.
continued 5:49pm EST, due to driving responsibilities: Brit was a really different person than I'd expected. Mainly because I learned a whole lot about her that I hadn't known. But this I mean that I learned about some more of her aspects. I hadn't exactly been expecting that, but it didn't necessarily surprise me either. Brit and I have a lot more in common than I had thought.
I met with my first bit of "real" descrimination. I've grown up in such a naive and perfect little world. I mean, the easiest example is the holocaust. My brain knows that it happened, but it doesn't feel like it could have. Nothing that bad could really happen, right? And, like, hate crimes, against whomever. For being black or gay or muslim or anything. All I've ever experienced or witnessed was a little teasing in school hallways.
(*employs "Chris" again*) So now, I'm not allowed to sleep in the same bed as Chris. Apparently, because I'm bisexual (read: gay), the only thing I think about is sex, and I'll hit on anyone wihtin a five foot radius. (I'm sorry, I think only about sex for entirely different reasons. ) I feel really bad for Chris. S/he seemed sort of... embarrassed and upset when s/he told me. I'm mainly worried if this will restrict hir from visiting me in college. We had big plans.
...Honestly... I don't really know what I think. I'm not really mad; I haven't felt any repercussions yet, so it doesn't quite feel real. I feel mainly... sorry. Sorry that people don't understand this about me. A little mad at myself, because I don't know how to explain it in a way they will understand and accept. *shrug* I feel incompetence. Like I'm incompetent in an incompetent world. Which I guess is why we have heroes, to relieve ourselves of the incompetence and to lead the way to less incompetence.
Speaking of heroes, I read the 5th Harry Potter book. It had a very different feel than the others. I didn't cry, unsurprisingly. The only time I felt like crying was when Neville talked about his wand. I lvoed Tonks beyond belief. (Rue, who started reading before I did, knew I would.) I'd much rather have her ability than be born a parselmouth. I had a lot of fun calling a bunch of characters dunces when they were stupid, then trying to think whether or not I would have done the same thing.
It was kind of weird reading this one. I caught on to so much more. I don't know if it was because I've learned J.K.Rowling's style of because I'm older or because I was on the watch for things or what, but I knew a lot of what was going on before it was explained.
Favorite part: Harry's special lessons, especially the conversations and interaction with his professor.
Least favorite: The tile of chapter twenty-eight.
Tomorrow, we're hopefully seeing Jack and Nialle and Lumie and Lumie-and-Nialle's-mom. We're not sure yet who'd free or what we want to do. Hope it goes well.
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Post by fico on Jul 3, 2003 19:39:47 GMT -5
6.26.o3
PORCELAIN. ARE YOU WASTING AWAY IN YOUR SKIN.
Thurs. 5:41pm EST; 4:41pm Illinois-time. The sky is a perfect blue with white on the horizon and suspended clouds. ("In my world the sky is everlasting blue. In my world no, nothing hurts, not even truth.") In fact, everything feels suspended except for me. I'm flying along at 65mph whil everyone is actually somewhere. Nialle's back in Iowa, Jack's back on campus, Rue and Mom and Airlia are stuck with me, Dad's in Iraq, Bet's at home, Brit and Gabi are in Arizona. I just feel like I'm flying somewhere fast, and I don't even know where I'm going.
The visit in Iowa was really good, even though it was much too short. We got there in the morning and just hung around in Cedar Rapids for a bit, went to the mall, stuff like that. Nialle had work and Jack had said to call around noon. We all hung out with Jack for a while, which was cool. Mom fell asleep on a couch, we talked to some people (including people fromt he Writing Center), we watched a rain storm; things like that. It was fun. After a few hours or whatever, Jack was gonna go shopping with one of his roommates, so we left too.
Nialle called while we were in the car to say she'd been able to get off work a little early. ((We just went over Spoon River! Go Spoon!)) So we went over to her house (using an alternate route since one street had been closed because of all the rain) and hung out there for a bit. We all took showers because we were all really nasty, except Airlia 'cause she only needs showers three times a week. We stayed there long enough to get cleaned up, wiht me running out to the car multiple times to get clothing and toothbrushes and such. But I didn't mind too much.
When we were all cleaned up and no longer stunk for a ten-foot-radius, we all squeezed into Nialle's cute, little grey car and went to see Lumie and her mom. (Honestly, it wasn't that tight a squeeze.) We went out to dinner, though Nialle's mom didn't come; I didn't hear why. Lumie was the lightest, so she lay across my, Rue's, and Airlia's laps in the back seat.
Dinner was way cool. I got chicken strips because they tend to not give you a lot with that, and I could only eat my salad, one strip, and some fries. I ate all the time on our way out to AZ, and in AZ. But on the way back, I suddenly became very un-hungry. (Nialle says that if I'm going to Iowa, this will have to change. ) We all talked (though Rue was really quiet, but she gets like that sometimes) and laughed and made jokes and listened and told stories. And ha! My mom paid for dinner. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-haaa! (Nialle always pays, which makes Rue and me mad. Grr-ruff.)
Then we stayed at Nialle's mom's for a bit, talking and stuff. Oh! And Nialle gave me back my Slytherin scarf! (I was a complete dence in April and left it there by accident. But now it's in my lap. ;D Only... now I've left my Ravenclaw scarf next to Gabi's bed. Dunce.) After a while, almost everyone was yawning, so we went back to Nialle's. I really like sitting in Nialle's car late at night when she's driving.
We got back to Nialle's and Rue wanted to talk to her alone for a bit (8 minutes, the dork). They went out to the screened-in porch. I finished writing on Nialle's birthday lyrics as they were talking. (Yeah, just a "little bit" late...) They came back in (8 minutes and 27(?) seconds). I gave Nialle her cd and lyrics. I think she was really happy to have them. I hope she's still happy after she's heard and read them.
I also wanted to talk to Nialle alone. Because I wanted to tell her about the "Chris"-thing, but I didn't want to say it in front of my mom and Airlia, and I wasn't sure I wanted to hear a reply in front of Rue. We didn't really discuss it; I just wanted to know... I guess if she thought I was handling it okay? Not sure what I wanted, but I guess I got it since I feel better.
We all said good-bye, which hurt even though I know I'll be back in about a month and a half. I tend to get horribly clingy when I don't want to leave someone; I just procrastinate something terrible. But I've been working on that a lot, because it really isn't fair of me to do that. So Rue, Nialle and I did this last hug, with a short conversation, and then we left.
We all slept at Jack's, which was really cool of him and his roommates. I fell asleep so fast. I'm really good at staying awake when I want to, but I was so dead-tired.
We took our time leaving this morning. We're staying in Illinois with Joey for a night. I finally get to give Joey shis birthday and Christmas presents. (Joey's birthday is in December. ) Then we're going to Virginia to see a friend of my mom's before getting home for me to pet-sit.
This trip is taking a lot out of me, which I never expected. My excitement-hihg is long gone, even though I've been having so much fun. I'm glad there's more, but I'll also be glad when it's over.
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Post by fico on Jul 4, 2003 17:54:11 GMT -5
7.4.o3
WE'RE CALLING THE MOON
Fri. 6:47pm. Disorientation is, at times, so acute as to be the only emotion left. All other feeling has gone, leaving a bare context without text. Words but no content. Emotion with no reason. It's like feeling something without having chemical impulses. You feel it because you think you must feel it, but it isn't real. The body does not recognize a difference between witnessing a scene and physically experiencing it.
I am seperate from all I want to be connected to.
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Post by fico on Jul 5, 2003 15:22:50 GMT -5
7.5.o3
MAKE YOU CRY, MEGA-ULTRA SAD. AND IF I TOLD YOU YOU'RE ALL I EVER HAD, WOULD YOU WALK ON ME? BECAUSE I WOULDN'T WALK ON YOU.
Sat. 3:41pm. I want to solidly have a place, a space I can be a part of and inhabit. But I've noticed that having a space doesn't count for anything unless you're in it. Less than ten miles away, I have a room made up in a way I appreciate and feel comfortable in. But it counts for nothing because it is ten miles away.
I have discovered that I need to settle places. I am not one of those wanderers who spends no more than a week in one place. I would love to wander around, honest I would. I want to do one of those travels where you just pick up and go for a year or so. You write a card home every now and then so they don't think you're dead, but the cards are never from the same place twice.
The only way I could manage this and keep my sanity is if I only sent a card once every three months. Because I would probably have to spend that much time in one place before I could stand leaving it.
I don't get homesick. It's just not a thing I do. I can remember being homesick... never, not once. Maybe that one time I got sick at girl-scout camp; I was seven and throwing up, and I was there for a week, and I might have gotten homesick, but the memory isn't all that distinct.
I get spacesick. I need a space. A place that is mine. I don't mind having to share it with someone else, but I have to feel comfortable in it. Like, I have to be able to put a poster up, or a map. Or I have to be able to organize my clothes in my freakish way. (I, erm, organize them by color and type. And they all get hung up.) Or I have to be able to leave a few things around, like a book or a notebook or a sweatshirt, and I can't feel like I'm intruding on someone else's space when I do that. I have to feel... settled.
I haven't been settled in over a month, and it's driving me insane.
I miss my closet. And I miss my radio that plays music from the foot of my bed. I miss my bookcases and my desk and my typewriter. I miss my green carpet and my brown-and-black sheet. I miss being able to make long-distance calls on the phone. And I miss being able to walk into the kitchen and not find anything to eat because there isn't anything, as opposed to walking in and finding loads to eat, but none of it belongs to me. I miss knowing where all my stuff is, even if it's buried under lots of other stuff. I miss not having an air conditioner. I miss my memories.
That happens to me when I get disoriented like this. When I don't settle somewhere for long enough, I get disoriented, and it's so bad that I forget things. I forget who I've had a conversation with. I forget simple facts about people. (Like if they've read a certain book or if they like a certain artist. I almost asked Chandra if she had read Harry Potter yet, the fourth book.) And I just feel... beside myself.
Good thought of the day: I get to go back to my space tomorrow.
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Post by fico on Jul 13, 2003 16:14:59 GMT -5
7.13.o3
SO NOW THAT YOU KNOW WHOSE SKIN YOU'RE SAVING
Sun. 3:40pm. Strange couple of days recently. I think it's pretty amazing how adaptable people are, in general. We go around, and we get so accustomed to things being a certain way. But then they can change, suddenly even, and we're okay after a week, or a month, or an hour even. I think it's strange, but not bad.
Anyway, I'm talking to [Willem] a lot. A whole lot. Like, every-day-a-lot. I think this is a good thing... I think. Willem and I weren't really close before. I wouldn't even say we're close now. (Something he said before, it makes me wary.) We end up having these conversations. And it's weird because they're always different on the surface, I know that much, but they usually have the same backdrop, if that makes sense. I kind of get the feeling that I'm probing him, and he doesn't want to make it easy for me. (That's very accurate, that description of us. He's kind of laid back, and I'm kind of laid back too, but I'm working on getting something right now, so I'm in Slyth-mode, which means I try to give the image of laid-back-ness, but I'm really very busy. Unless I'm very much mistaken, Willem totally knows what I'm up to.) He's not exactly making it hard. It's like he knows what I want, but he's acting like he doesn't. So he's not helping or hindering, either way. So that's up. That's been going on for... four days? Something like that I think. But of course, it feels a lot longer, since it's every day. And the conversations are pretty intense, so it's almost like that is my day. There are other things going on, too. Important ones. Important enough to post, even. But that's pretty much the main one.
I started helping Nie out with chess over on Trapdoor. I kind of was slow catching on that the tournament was back up. So once I did, she had almost finished up the game anyway, and I didn't want to butt in after all her hard work. But now we've got a new game against Gryffindor, and I made a move. This is going to sound so stupid, but I'm really nervous about that. Mainly because I'm putting a piece (a pretty good piece, and one that is very useful, especially later in the game) in a position to be sacrificed. The thing is, I'm pretty sure I can turn the game to our pretty-good advantage no matter what Gryffindor does. It's just... Nierme is good at chess. (Especially since she only learned, like, what? Eight months ago? A year ago? Something insane.) And... I dunno. I played this game last tournament, and this one guy came in and screwed up all my stuff. Made me lose the chance to win, lost me a really great piece, all kinds of stuff. And I didn't say anything because the person was allowed to play on the team, was having fun, and I didn't want to be mean. I don't want to be Nie's idiot chess-mate. I don't want to be the person she's too nice to tell off. And I'm really terrified I'll become that person. (*wonders shortly if Nie reads this journal* And no one had better tell her about this! *grrs menacingly*... I'm actually serious though.) My chess-playing hasn't been nearly up-to-speed recently. I know this. I'm pretty good, normally. (Not great, definitely not great. But I've got a good understanding of the pieces and how to manipulate them, and I'm good at watching the whole board rather than getting wrapped up in just one part.) But I've been playing really badly lately. Lost two or three times to Laci, and drawed once. (That was out of a whole lot of games, mind you, but I had been undefeated against him until then.) It's just... I think it's just my stupidity thing again. Which is just stupid.
Four days ago, Bet's cat disappeared. We were watching a movie in her room. She went downstairs for a minute or two. Next thing I know, she's racing around frantically, calling for her cat and calling her sister a bitch. (Her sister wasn't there at the time, but Bet was almost positive she had let Theo (the cat) out.) It was, like, midnight or one in the morning or something. Sometime late. Bet's dad came downstairs to check what was up, since Bet was shouting so much. She went outside to look for Theo, calling his name and stuff. Ran around everywhere in the house. But the thing was, his food was right where she'd left it. And he normally sits and begs for dinner.
I hate when Bet gets upset. It's so selfish of me... but it's not really. I'm half mad at myself, because I never know what to do/say. And I'm slightly mad at her, because she handles things so differently, and I don't understand how they help. But she says that it just makes her feel better to shout and punch a wall and stuff. Then she can calm down and handle things better. When I get really mad or upset (if I even do), I shout at the person who made me mad. Then I storm out and listen to loud, angry music, usually while chucking something at my ceiling repeatedly. I don't like to talk to people. I don't like people to see me angry. But mostly when Bet gets mad/upset, I'm just mad at myself for never doing or saying the right thing.
Confidance is really big in Bet's book. If a guy isn't confidant, she doesn't find him as attractive. If a girl is confidant, she really respects that. When Bet gets mad, I lose every ounce of confidance I ever had. She knows this. But I try not to show it. I sort of sit there, trying to be the silent, stoic, supportive type. She doesn't read me this way. She thinks I'm just being quiet because I'm too scared to say anything. I'm actually being quiet because I can't think what to say. So when I didn't say anything, it made her more mad. (Confidance went down to negatives.) She wants me to, like stew with her. Rant a bit, egg her on a bit. I think because then she can get it all out, and then calm down? But that's what she would want me to do. Thing is, I don't get emotional about stuff. So I sat there, and I said things like "Dude, Bet, cats are always running off. I know he wasn't an outdoor cat, but he'll be back. Cats are notorious for running off and coming back in two or three days." I'm, like, the comforting type. And she appreciates that, I know that. But she would prefer a fellow stew-er. (By the way, don't think that all that is just my supposing. Bet and I talk about this stuff a lot. So that's still my interpretation of what she said, but it is what I remember her telling me.)
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Post by fico on Jul 13, 2003 16:16:16 GMT -5
Last night, her mom and dad had bridge. They play bridge with this married couple in another developement. The married couple has a son [Dickhead]. Dickhead (heretoafter known as just Dick, sorry to all the Richards out there) is a dork-in-a-bad-way. I don't like him. We hung out a few times, but he got boring quickly and wouldn't leave me alone when I tried to hint that he should. (It wasn't just that he was boring, I also didn't like him very much as a person.) So Dick was there, since he'd gotten off work and his dad had picked him up, and Bet's dad had wanted him to work on their computer for a bit. (Dick's apparently good with computers, but I don't know how good because I'm not good with computers.) Dick also tried to go out with Bet a few times. Definitely not Bet's type. (For one thing, he isn't always very confidant. ) Mainly because he's just an overall not-so-great-guy. So Dick corners us when we come in from looking around for Theo, right? And we're talking, whatever. And Bet mentions that her cat's gone, how he just left three days ago. And Dick says "oh, he's probably dead." Bet freezes like nobody's business. "What did you say?" And Dick's all like, "well, all my cat's died. So-and-so got hit by a car, _____ and _____ ran away and we never saw them again." And he's, like, ticking them off on his fingers, just listing the cats that he lost. Bet was like, in shock. She freakin' flipped when her cat disappeared, and she had two days of hell, and here's this dickwad just ruining all the hope we had given her that Theo was coming back. Like, she loves that cat. You wouldn't believe. And Dick was just... such a dick.
So Bet tries to talk to him a bit more, but he's just relentless. Tried to hint at him to work on the computer, but he just kept talking and following her as she walked. Kept talking. So she left. And I was there with Dick, shootin' the breeze. He pissed me off enough that I just told him I'd rather go spend time with Bet. And he said he'd come with, and I said didn't he have to work on Mr. G's computer (that's Bet's dad)?, and he said he'd rather spend time with people his own age. And I said that I would really rather not be in his company. So he finally took the hint (read: blatant refusal to talk to him) and went to the office.
I went outside, and it was gorgeous. They've got this deck out there, Bet's family. And they had strung the white Christmas lights up, through the railing and stuff. And the trees and bushes were overhanging in this great way, vines creeping up between the lights. It was this great night, with thin pants and a t-shirt being perfect. And windy. And Bet was in the process of lighting all these candles and setting them out, on the railing and on the table and stuff like that. Only it was kind of fruitless, since the wind was pretty strong. She asked what had happened, and I told her. She was surprised I'd been so ... rude. But I think I was pretty justified... kinda. (I hate being mean to people. Someone just tell me if I was unjustifiably mean. I can handle justified mean-ness, it's the unjustified kind that really gets to me.)
We ended up just going for a walk through people's backyards. Bet lives in a developement, it's kinda new. Only fifteen years old or something. There are all these houses clumped together, but with big lawns. So we went around in all the backyards, calling for Theo and whistling and stuff. We must have walked for forty-five minutes or something. A long time. We got back to her house after this big loop. But she didn't want to go in yet. We had really only checked, like, half the developement. She had a whole nother section above the back of her house. (The developement is on this big hill.) So we go up to the other section.
We're walking along the middle of the street. This is after, like, four false alarms of different cats and shadows. And we're calling out for Theo. And we both stop dead and look at each other. "Did you hear that?" she asks me. "Yeah." And the noise comes again, like this really desperate meow. So we both bolt in the same exact direction, which shows me that we're not imagining it. And I warn her that it might not be Theo, so she shouldn't get all her hopes up. Behind the developement, there's this field. We've got a lot of those around. They're kind of spread out between all the developements and towns. And there was this cheap, chain-link fence dividing the developement from the field. We still hear the meowing, so we run up to the fence. Only it also sounds kind of like a dog, like a puppy or something. It's way dark, since it's almost eleven thirty or something like that. And she crouches down next to the fence, still saying his name. There's this rustling, and she shouts that it's a cat, but it's too dark to see much else. And she says it's Theo. But I'm not next to her, I'm checking for a place to climb over the fence.
It was probably five feet tall, the fence. And it's kinda cheap. Like, the wire is thick enough, but it's not really supported. No supports on top, the support-poles spaced about six or seven feet apart. So it was hard to climb over. And there were these bushes growing, all thorny and stuff. So it took a bit to find the right spot, since I needed a pole for support. And even then, I got stuck by a few prickerd. But I lodged a toe in one of the holes (I love having small feet), and somehow balanced long enough to jump. Bet's back there, and she said Theo jumped when I landed. Scared him. So I start walking through all the underbrush, which is also full of prickers, and I'm in flood-pants. But sometimes things just don't matter, you know? And Bet's flipping out because Theo's walking away from her. Right near the fence, on the field-side, there were all these trees and big bushes and prickers and things. I really didn't want to have to crawl in there and lunge after a cat. So I crept a little closer and listened for where he was going. The thing came right to me. I picked him up, and he was silky, just like Theo. We hadn't been positive it was him. So I carried him back and handed him over the fence to Bet. Launched myself back over the fence.
We walked back to Bet's house. Theo got scared when he saw people he didn't know. We went in the house and everyone flipped out (all of the bridge players were still there, and they'd all heard Theo had been missing), and the cat nearly tore a hole through Bet's chest. (He isn't de-clawed.) She ran him into the laundry room, where he gets fed and stuff, with a quick stop in the office to tell Dickhead her cat was alive.[/size]
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