:: Youth & Eternity ::
Don't tell me to take it easy! I'm looking at a room full of outlet clothing and Fantastic Sam's haircuts! I can't breathe, I tell you, I can't breathe!
[2004-04-18 @ 8:36 p.m.]

The last day of break. All good things must come to an end, I suppose. I fell into those relaxing summer habits over the past week, and am more than nervous about my new look and what people will think. I'm way too self-conscious to let naysayers naysay without an effect. But, I like it. I promise pictures of my hair to everyone who gives me his or her email address, unless I know you personally. You'll have to wait until tomorrow.

It's crazy, but Mum's never seen Braveheart. She came into the living room to see a bunch of Scots bare their backsides to the Brits, and freaked. I love Braveheart, and this was the first time I actually got to see it all. I was sooo excited! Mel Gibson can do no wrong. He's the schiz. He's the man. He directed, produced, and starred in Braveheart, and he, ergo, rocks out loud. That movie makes me angry because I've got Scottish ancestory, but I've also got English ancestory. And Irish. You know how that goes.

I hate this neighbourhood. I hate my neighbours, and I don't feel safe. I live in the 'burbs, no place safer. But awhile ago someone tried to break into our garage (twice, Mum actually saw someone the second time, walking down the street casually). Ever since then I've been afraid to sit at the 'puter at night, in front of the windows. Mum just yelled down that someone was parked in front of the house watching me (I didn't notice) and then pulled away. Some strange car with one headlight pulled into our neighbour's driveway, sat there, and then pulled away slowly. Once again, I hate, hate, hate this place. I really, honestly do.

So! I had the best shopping trip ever! Ever! Just Mum and me, no little brother (I love him dearly, I do), we went to New York and Company. I was so surprised! I always go to, you know, Express, the Limited, stuff like that. New York and Company rules! Their stuff was well priced (little less than 30 for a shirt, little more than 30 for some pants), the staff was sooo nice, and everything was of a nice quality. I got a pair of cargo-ish pants, a skort (I know, I know, nerd central, but it's really cool looking, really!), a blue shirt, two tank tops, a pair of sandals, and Mum got a shirt, a pair of pants, a pair of sandals, and another black shirt to match my blue one. All in all it would normally be 250 bucks, but it all added up to $160 because we have an online accound and stuff. What a steal! Next time we go, we can spend up to $160 and get off half of that. How awesome? Very! But everything was California-y with a New York-y twist. Which is good, because I'm very New York-y, but in the summer, everyone likes a little California-y flavour, right?

Right. Everytime a car passes by, I see the headlights out of the corner of my eye (rhyme) and I give a start. This is one way of giving yourself a heart attack.

Well, well, well. I thought I had a lot to say. I guess I just didn't want to think about school. Tomorrow. School. Like desks and books and pencils and teachers. And people pointing and taunting. Ugh, I feel sick. Wait! I'm used to all eyes being on me, it's what makes me tick! I love spotlight! Who cares if no one likes my hair? At least it's attention! Woohoo for drama! I like it, it's a nice, polished look. It makes my eyes look even bigger, and more like a bush baby than ever before! It's just that no one else has this cut, so I'll be different. Again! It's never enough to purely stand out because I'm so tall, and pale, and have reddish hair. Auburn, really. With freckles. I have to dress differently (my philosophy whenever I sport a kilt to school, "Hey, it's my ancestory!" every last day before summer break), and have a special haircut! HOORAY!

Maybe I feel sick for a different reason. Maybe I'm scared out of my mind because I'm in front of a dark window. In a good part of town that isn't as safe as thought would have it. Maybe I'm just letting things get to me because I really have no life.

Whoa, one of the workers at the mall thought I was in college. Both of my hairdressers thought the same thing! I'm only 17! Barely that! I kept assuring them that I was a juniour, and they thought I meant a college juniour. No! A highschool juniour! Maybe it's the bangs. Mum said they made me look older. This is almost as bad as the time that a flight attendant tried serving me alcohol.

Hmm. I don't think I've got anything else to say. I watched five minutes (well, okay, more than five... more like seven) of Blue Crush. I wanted to rip my hair out. I'd love to learn to surf, and I'd love to learn to skateboard. But this was such an obvious bad dump of a movie that I was about to go insane. Well, more insane than I already am-- what with the truck that just drove by. I heard that Lost in Translation was really good from people who saw it in theatres, but I heard it was incredibly boring from people who rented it. I still want to see it, I'm still going to rent it. I want to draw my own conclusions. I also wanted to see how bad Gigli actually was. I watched Glitter once for the same reason! What was I talking about? It's sad that movies have become my life. I suppose they should be since I want to be in them for a living in the future.

I realised today how hard that's going to be. I realised that my dad really does think that I'm wasting an ivy league education on acting, no matter what he tells me. I realised today that when I move up to New York to live with him, he's going to hurt me and break me down so I won't want to do it anymore. I realised today that I can never, ever, ever depend on someone else to get me through my problems, because that's what my mum did when she felt trapped with her situations at home. I realised today that my spirit is too easily broken, and I need to toughen up. Because I'm Irish in my words, I'm strong with my arguement, but my soul is too easily bruised. I can't trust love, familial or otherwise (unless it be the love from my mother or my brother), to get me through, because it doesn't exist. I need to be strong for myself, and that's the only way I'm gonna succeed and break the cycle.

Basically what I'm saying is, one day I'm gonna meet someone I think is a crutch, and I'm gonna be used. I can't let it happen. I need my own feet, not someone else's.

Yes. That was very personal. I guess that's why it's a diary. But I feel better!

Today's title is from Will & Grace. My favourite lush, Karen Walker: mentor, leader, and fictional character. Toodles!

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one thousand embraces

SILENCE, TRAITOR! - 2006-05-10
Irish History - 2006-05-02
Goodbye Bio! - 2006-05-01
DANCE, WATER! DANCE! - 2006-04-26
Gaaaaaah. - 2006-04-24

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