Musings of a Strange Girl
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Your first time is always strange...
...and I suppose now is no different. I've always toyed with
the idea of an online journal, which I'm sure arises from
some twisted part of me that always hopes someone will
stumble along my real journal and start reading it. There's
simply something cathartic about releasing your angst and
forcing it onto others.
And so, here I am. I promise that after this message I will
not write it "to" whoever may be reading- I'll write it
simply as I would to myself, and hope that maybe someone
will get a kick out of it.
Let's start... now!
I'm totally frustrated about Halloween. For the first time
since I was really little, I actually rented a costume and
bought big, expensive gobs of stage makeup to perfect my
costume this year as Catherine Eddowes (fourth Jack the
Ripper victim). Lo, what happens? My freakin' friend decided
not to have the party after all and so now I'm stuck trying
to find someplace to go so this wasn't all a total waste of
money. It makes me wonder if I shouldn't TOTALLY stop trying
to be social.
Speaking of unfortunate social situations, I have to go to
my friend's surprise party tommorow afternoon. She's
throwing a friend for our OTHER friends who are coming back
into town from Phoenix and college, both of whom I was
totally in love with for an entire year (and one of the two,
I actually dated). So, now I'm obligated to go sit over
there for over an hour and pretend like I'm super happy that
their lives are wonderful, while I'm still fat, lazy, and
completely boyfriendless. Ugh. How depressing.
Even more depressing is how TOTALLY bummed I am that dad
won't take me to see "From Hell" tommorow. I don't
understand why he won't- we're both compulsive
Ripperologists, and we both loved the graphic novel. This
entire house is a freakin' arbitrarily-decided dictatorship.
Thank god I'll be gone in less than a year.
But on the other hand, I don't want to leave! This is my
home, my city, with my room and my bed and everything that's
mine in it, and the idea of being thrust out into a big city
(again) without the aid of my parents really freaks the shit
out of me. Ugh ugh ugh.
I've still got to work on my government grade to get it up
to an A, and then that Palmtop is SO mine. All my other
grades are great. Hooray!
Schweet! My dad just scored me a bootleg of Stephen
Sondheim's "Assassins" play AND the soundtrack to "Jack the
Ripper: The Musical." Hee! Fun!
EVEN COOLER! Heather Graham is coming up on Jay Leno to talk
about "From Hell", and Bush is going to play after that.
Maybe I shouldn't be so anxious about tommorrow. It's not
good for my icky stomach. I've been almost puking again,
which isn't good. Blah. I'm going to go watch Leno and then
go to bed. Why is it that when you're little, you HATE going
to bed and would stay up until all hours of the night rather
than do so, and yet as soon as you hit, say, sixteen, you
can't possibly get ENOUGH sleep?
Makes me wish I had slept when I was little so I could have
sleep stored up for now, when I really need it!
More to come tommorow.
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