I seemingly always come back to this but Neutral Milk Hotel's In An Aeroplane Over the Sea is the best album ever. It's sexy in the best kind of way; broken and distored yet still swaying like terrifying sounds of summer carnivals. If you haven't heard it you need to. And if you haven't the money to purchase it with just my recomendation email me and I'll totally send it to you. Because Christ is someone whispering in your ear about wanting to fuck you while scraping your neck up with stubble.

I love men. End of story. I can NEVER be a lesbian, I couldn't even work the bi thing. Because no matter how awesome smooth feels I can always just touch myself. Men are where it is at. Scratchy and broad. God. I might be in some disgustingly distorted love lust you're my best friend and I don't need to go through all of this crap with you type thing. And I am. And I love it. And I hate how spunk gives me heartburn. Because it always does. And I never approve. And yet it never stops me.

There's a fourtune on my desk that reads; "Time heals all wounds. Keep your chin up." And it totally does. Even the darkest dark doesn't seem that bad right now.

He's a wonderful lover and just as assbackwards about saying things as I am.
I think I might just keep him around.

And this is the room
One afternoon I knew I could love you
And from above you how I sank into your soul
Into that secret place where no one dares to go

All I want to do is kill myself.
Well, and sit and talk to Anthony.

I can't stop listening to Nick Drake. I'm not sure it's a positive thing. If only because I've given up.
I am a quitter. It makes me want to cry.
But we can laugh, and we can love, maybe just not together.
I'm just a dear friend. Which I'm being ungrateful for.
I really am stupid.
I like painting muscular structures.
I really do love my boyfriend.
I'm just.. mentally elsewhere I suppose.
My desk is not big enough for the amount of stuff I store upon it.
It is the perfect size for my room, however.
I love my friends. There are a lot less of them now than there were before. It's because I'm picky. There's Dan, Tony, Anthony, Vanessa, and my Stevie. They're all that count.

I think I need a good cry.
I also think I might be jealous.

Wonder how I'm managing to smile
when I can't even pay my rent.
Maybe it's because I've finally found
my little tulip; my Norge dear.
Funny how in spite of all my woes
life can appear rosy and clear.

Rosy and clear.

Eating? No.
Anything that could even remotely be considered constructive? No.
Someone should so kill me. It'd save me the hassle of killing myself at my current place of employment.

So wait for the stone on your window, your window
Wait by the car and we’ll go, we’ll go


I totally want to burn a whole city down. It's really hard to type in gloves. Let me tell you all about it. That was all I had to say.

I'm falling pretty hard into friendship. It feels good. I really have my job cut out for me now.

Is it too early in the friendship to give Christmas presents?
Whatever.
I need to clean my room.
There's still hope of an outting tonight. I feel good and social. And pukey.
That fucking rocks.

Eli, The Barrow Boy. What a fucking depressing song.
I should clean my room. I think it's to the point where my house is to now be offered up.

I so love being depressed.

I'm pretty sure everyone I know is going no where. Too bad all I want to do is be a nothing. Fuck college.
I want to be a nothing that makes out with cute blonde boys.
Well, really just one blonde boy.
Who happens to make me laugh all night long.
And who makes funny little squeaks when the wind pushes him down a hill of ice.
I'm in a crisis.
For shur.
It's 66 in Santa Cruz today.
I mean, honestly, can anyone deny a night full of cigarettes and cherry coke and then slow driving while discussing Hitler and Russian gangs?
I can't.
I love being followed home by the police, it makes me feel mighty.
I really want to bust someone's head open with my fucking shoe.

I am so delighted with life.
I'm flunking out, but you know what? The people I surround myself with aren't doing that hot either and I feel like a badass. At least it's my own destruction.

I'll forget.
I guess it would be nice.

Can you picture that?

I'm such a liar. It's not even funny. Not attracted to him at all, BULL SHIT. CLAUSEN YOU LIE. I want him and I don't like that.
I don't know if any of you have been through that. You know, where you're with someone that you love but then there's someone more interesting and who pays you more attention and who makes you smile, and feel happy. I can honestly say that I am confused and am not going to do ANYTHING about ANYTHING until I know what is what. But yeh.
We drove around talking for 3 hours last night and the only reason it wasn't longer was because I was worried Steve would get mad at me.
God he has the best stories. I have never laughed that much. And I love how much of a prick he is. We can be nasty people together and I enjoy that a lot. But blonde? I dunno.
He has little ears and a rounded nose.
I feel guilty.
I feel pretty.
I love feeling attractive.
I like having a friend.
A fucking friend.
Heh. (:
He laughs at the stupid little things I do.
And calls me champ.
Champ.
Steve leaves food on my desk.
He's really tidy too, but doesn't have a scent which bothers me.
Steve and I had a pregnancy scare.
Everything turned out okay. So that's good.
I could totally live with having babies 20 years from now.
I don't think I have ever laughed that much.
It was wonderful. I like his voice, but he's a total mouth breather and gets kinda flemmy during conversation. Which is cool, cause I suffer the same thing.
I love knowing people who will let me just listen and will dominate the conversation for me.
I just want to shave my head, have a drink, and be left alone.
Is that too much to ask?

I really want to go see Of Montreal March 15th. No one will go with me because no one has good taste in music.
Boo-urns.
I really want to waste myself away with chemicals and liquids.

So I guess it started finally. The point where I start ditching class and hiding in the library. This is a new low for me. A lot has changed in this past semester. Not only is college retarded but I am completely covered in cat hair at the current time.
Nothing special has happened this semester; other than me becoming an emotionally lacking person. I made a new friend though. Not from school, that would be weird and unacceptable. We work together so that's pretty groovy. Anthony makes me laugh and I'm completely unattracted to him in any way. That's always a good thing. Work is actually pretty sweet currently. All of my managers have their heads up their asses but the co-workers are pretty cool. Greg makes me uncomfortable. I would be lying if I said I wasn't effected by a 31 year old diabetic red head hitting on me like there was no tommorrow. But he's seen me cry and I get to be extra snarky towards him so I think I should just shut up and tolerate the sexual harassment.
I totally came here form one reason. And that one reason was that no one I have on my buddy list knows of this ljname anymore. Which is super cool in my book, and that I really need to blather on about something that I really wish no one I knew face to face will ever hear. This is namely because I'd die if any of it ever got back to Steve. Our sex life sucks. There; I said it. It sucks. Three nights in a row of me faking it and him not getting there. I've been tired and I know he is too but there's no reason. It's just dissapointing. Namely because I don't want to put more than 100% of my effort into it. I try too hard for it anyway. This is a really long entry. I haven't written like this forever and I don't plan to go back and spell check, or reread, or check for punctuation at all. I'm just that much of a BAMF.
Bad Ass Mother Fucker.
I feel naughty typing that with a 6 year old next to me, but whatev.
I think I'm done ranting. I'm feeling better. I've got money in my purse, and money in my bank account, and gas in my car, and snot in my nose and I am (dare I say it?) happy. (oh, by the way, PC's totally blow my ass. So do CRT monitors that take up way too much space and make it impossibly painful for me to sit here and type like this. I wish I was on one of the Macs they have here. Those are MY kind of computers. Literally.
I really like my anatomy class,; the teacher is old and has WAY too much of a crotch buldge for his age. UNCOOL. but it's a good class and I'm finally starting to take stuff out of it. I LIKE LEARNING. it's true, I really do.

Is it wrong that I'm posting here because I'm too much of a fucking pussy to even make an attempt at letting the people in my life know what's going on with me?

I'm so stressed out right now it isn't even funny. And alone, almost, I have Steve and he's great. But at the moment he's part of my problem because I love him but it hurts in a weird way to not have him be pleased with me. He reminds me too much of my father, in a good way, or the sleeper hold that my mother has over my life but he's my Steve and we've been though this much and haven't even hit a snag and I'm going to attribute this to me going infuckingsane. I've been crying, today anyway, but it's gnawing at the inside of me so fucking badly that I don't know which way is up and I don't know where to look and I have no idea who to talk to. Because I know Steve has the same thing. We're 17 & 18, we shouldn't have to have this as part of our lives! And he's the only one who is physically here right now and I know he's as shit scared about court as I am and about our futures and that we both need jobs and that the society we live in demands a child needs to go to college to succeed in life even if they have no interest in it. And while I really would like to experience college life I know that even when I go to college it won't be college life.

And my Alex is gone, and I was thinking about him last night and how many times he's made me cry and yet - I'll go to him with anything. Even though he's crushed me so many times, all unintentional of course. But he's still my Alex, and my best friend, and he understands the bullshit I can talk and see right through it. He does it with both Steve and I, we both keep it in too much. It can't be healthy to be this upset all by yourself. But Al's coming home next Wednesday for court. But he'll be here, even if no one is happy, and we'll all be with Kevin for his birthday.

Kevin. He's Kevin again, and he's awake and he's himself but he's so far from it and it's all of our faults. Alex, Steve, and myself. It's our fault he's hurt, even if everyone is saying that it is Kevin's fault for going up there and falling and that we saved his life by getting help so quickly and that any more of a delay and he would have been dead, but that isn't encouraging at all. Because we could have stopped him, and we didn't. And I just want my life back to normal.

Then there's school. Which is such a joke it isn't even funny. I can't deal with this little of anything, there's not substance to any of my classes and AP art is bogus and I want to drop it which blows my mind. If I drop this what am I supposed to do with my life? If I don't do art what the hell am I going to do? I've left myself very little in the world of options.

It's just, I'm terrified and I'm stressed out and I don't know how to deal with the people I love being distant because they're going through the same things. I don't think we're going to see each other today.

I have a terrible feeling about how everything is going to end up. I've just got to have faith, everything will work out in the end. I mean, Kevin did live. Why shouldn't I?

Don't let this happen to you kids, practice safe sex.

I am not dead!

.... But my computer is. This is coming from you straight from the Farnsworth's basement while the boys work on some new songs. They are sounding goood. You should all go to www.purevolume.com/expostfacto and check 'em out.

Well, I'm off. I promiss this will be updated once more once I get a fucking workin computer, which will be around christmas.

peace

Way to not forget about your friends or anything. Coming second to a cat is fine, but some random boy? That's low, dude.

Second Hour 8:41sm
I have Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds stuck in my head because some cont who sits behind me in math was just singing it. And now Rich, the senior who’s also behind me just said, “I’m so tired, oh man, I haven’t slept a wink.” There are Beatles songs all over Andrea’s mind. I hate Joselyn, and I hate myself for realizing that I have no real reason to end the liking of him. I mean, most females like it when someone they fancy wraps an arm around them, pulls them into an embrace, and all of that jazz. How was he to know I have issues with it? I mean, I’ve laid on him before, but that was physical contact that I accepted. He asked and I accepted, and all was good. But he is cute, and he is nice, and he sings me songs, and he plays his guitar to me, and he gives me his coat, and protects me from physco chicks, and he tells me that I am pretty. I like him and I will admit it. Well, actually I probably would not if you asked me, but since you are not asking, I will tell you. He smells like warm mints and herbal shampoo. Oh damn, I like him a lot. How lame am I?

So, on Saturday night after the show, back at Vanessa’s party, he kept pulling me into him. That part was weird, and so was the part where I could feel his god damned penis against my butt. What the hell is that?! That equals you are far too close to me that I can feel this even without it being erect. I hate him for being on board with this. I hate him so fucking much for it.

Oh man, the boy smoked tea with me. It was nasty as can be and we both ended up getting sick because of it, but he still did it with me. We grifted Dan out of one of his smokes and picked the tobacco out of it, and then we poured two bags of Earl Grey into it. Nasty stuff, that. The show was amazing though. It only lasted about an hour before the cops came and shut it down. He was totally rocking out Jimmy Page style and Dan abandoned his guitar once they started playing bicycle and worked the Roger moves he’s been working on. They’d be premo if they had a better drummer. But then again, drummers are hard to come by so one must take what they can get. Anyway you get better while you play in a band.

Then we all went to the party. It was outta this world fun. Like, no joke. We 80’s up, danced about, got drunk off of Fresca, created the world’s greatest air band, and just had a really good time. Ziggy Stardust is always a goodtime though.

So… Why is it that I am so fickle? I want to ask him if he’s thought of the third place for me to leave a lipstick mark on his face yet. He kissed me and left a mark so I kissed his cheeks back. Then the fat chick wanted to kiss his forehead and he told her no and that he would think of a third place on his face for me to kiss. Maybe I’ll ask him about it tomorrow, or whatever.

My Who mix rocks, hard. I need to give this to him, and Tony, and Dan, pronto.

( Halloween photos. Some from the show, and some from the party )

What a terrible outlook to have on the world, Andrea. Jesus was a white man from Oxford, not a dark-skinned one. What pompous, arrogant bastards. My eyes are burning and my existence confuses me yet again, what a combination. I seriously detest the fact that school can, and will always, become overwhelming. I can’t help but procrastinate, my grades down the shitter; I can’t help but have to save myself with B’s and C’s at the end of the semester. It’s just the way I work, I think.

But things get weird, and that bothers me to an unseen extent. Things are not allowed to get weird. The world I live in is perfect, remember? Well, not perfect but if I am going to spend the time on creating my illusions, you damn well better let me live in them. Art, all of the classes have been hard to focus in; I am sinking fast. Can you not hear the wind rush past my ears? Or is it only screaming at me from within? It’s a kamikaze mission without any hope of surviving. All I suppose I can hope for is something, someone, soft and strong to prevent the plane from turning down, you dig? I want George and it is for this that I hate myself even more.

I do not care for the fact that the existence of this boy causes me to giggle. To fucking giggle. I do NOT giggle! I really enjoy him, I should not be ashamed but it appears that I am. I am not sure why, really. There is nothing wrong with him. Well, other than the fact that he is a sophomore – credit wise. I can ignore that though; I can turn the other cheek. I really like him, and it blows my mind – the fact that I do. He is not what I normally like. He is not disgustingly under nourished, rude, cocky, sarcastic, witty, violent, short to anger; he is nothing like my normal picks. And Dan, what the hell is up with Dan? Every time I am within feet of George he gives him the weirdest glare. Like “Hey man, cut the shit.” George just shrugs and continues talking to me. But, fucking hell, I like him, I want to date him. And I hate myself for saying it. And I am done, ‘cause I have no idea what I was talking about and I have no urge to go back and look. Jossie, stop licking nuts, I need to talk to you.

PS. Let us hope that you get no more acorns in the eyes, no? "A-reek, ha-ha-ha! He's French and artistic."

Answers to radiocasette's questions:

What is your favorite toner brand? Well, see, I know nothing of toner. But, I'm going to have to go with the toner you were talked out of sniffing. Whatever it was, it is cool in my book.
Do you believe in Jesus as your savior? I did at one point in time. I was really into it, too. I had a hard time accepting that not everyone accepts Jesus, or whatever. Then due to certain events I fell away from religion, I yelled and screamed and condemned all organized religion. I haven't like it since then. But, still the fact remains that when I'm frightened or unsure or something along those lines I will catch myself asking for forgiveness and safety. I don't know, though. I've been confirmed, and I can dig it. I just don't know if I can accept one thing any longer. I still believe that there is some divine force that is above us all. I just don't know if I can believe all of that Jesus stuff any longer. I believe he existed, and was a cool guy, and all. I just don't know if I can, you dig?
Do you prefer macs to windows? Macs win, hands down.
Do you prefer pens or pencils? Pens if I am taking notes or something lame like that in class. Pencils if I am working on anything for Field. You just get a better effect -- you have no idea who Field is. Good.
Do you enjoy driving? Yeh, driving is fine. I like the fact that I don't need anyone to take me places any longer. A sense of freedom, if you will


I'd make an entry, but alas I am still currently trying to find out what happens when people smoke tea. Any ideas?

The Rolling Stones Rock'n'Roll Circus is in three days, can everyone feel the excitement?

This update shall be pointless. I felt you should be warned before I was 3/4 of the way done with it. So yeh, get out now or just shut the fuck up. Dan is an asshole and I am mad at him. Oh ho ho, simple sentences rock my world. Back on track now. He promised me that he wouldn't try pot, if only to appease my own mind. Also because he felt as though doing it would cause him to be a teenage stereotype and it wasn't something he wanted to become. Now, I am against the use of pot a great deal, if only from my upbringing. That however, is a different story. I really like the fact that I am writing like an idiot, yay! So he does it, and it makes him sick, and he feels like he is going to die. Not to mention the fact that Fridays with The Farns was not in operation due to this. Then there's me, trusting little 'ol me who gets Dan telling her he just got stoned.

The fucker broke his promise.

Yeh, so I'm mad about this. Call me lame, nail me to my cross, whatever. I'm not in the mood and I don't care how you feel fit to crucify me. Whichever poison you choose is fine by me.

I'm just, argh, wallowing within a pond of teenage angst and betrayal. Exciting, right?

Another thing that pisses me off? The fact that people ask me questions about Dan as though he and I were together. We aren't, get that through your heads. He's madly in love with Heather, and as much as that randomly plucks my own heartstrings, I don't care one way or the other. She's fucked his head before, let her do it again. But he looked so nice today, dressed up all spiffy of Jazz. Oh man, I love Jazz and my Dan rocks.

Now, I'm fucking going to go call Jossie, or go to bed, or watch a movie, or just generally stop writing this HORRENDOUS entry.

Living up to my expectations, the homecoming pep assembly was incredibly lame. All the same, I don't think I've enjoyed myself that much at school in a very long time. Displaying the themes of each upcoming spirit day I was pleased to find that Blues Brothers day will be first. Oh man, oh man, I love the Blues Brothers. Mr. Mulman and Mr. Schram, my favourite teacher in the history of ever, were dressed up in the garb. I could have died. They ran in, doing the proper moves, with the proper dress, and Schram was Elwood. I could have died happy, right then and there. After all the student body poured from the gym I ran up to Schram to congratulate him on rocking so much only to be show his knuckles. Yeh, he rocks that much. He remembered how I told him last year that what makes or breaks a Blues Brothers get up is the knuckles. All the same, he got it right, and rocks so much more now.

Art was fun today, Lewis found out he has been given a full ride to some art college in Kentucky. There was much rejoicing and dancing to The Matrix soundtrack. Mr. Field and I talked after class today, apparently he thinks that I can get a full ride if I start doing a few more projects. He wants me to have a larger portfolio to be able to choose pieces from. Then he gave me The Smiths/The Queen Is Dead CD because I said I like The Smiths. Oh how I love Mr. Field.

Lazer tag and bowling with the Veneers tonight and my camera is back, much excitement ensures.

Beara, get better.