It's The Place To Be

So, yeah, I guess it is time for everything to come out. I have no idea where to start or what to say, but everything needs to come out of me. I feel like I have been holding it all in for so long.

Well, that couldn't be farther from the truth, I talk about it constantly - people get really sick of my constant jabbering on this very subject. Yet, perhaps because I have yet to inform the one person this concerns, I feel like everything is all bottled up.

Once again, I have been stabbed in the back by Cupid's arrow. People always say dumb stuff like, "You will find someone when you aren't looking." Well, I wasn't looking and I found someone, and . . . nothing. Like every other person I have liked in my life, nothing is happening. I now know that the problem is me, but what the problem exactly is, is where I am confused. It could be one of a billion things, but unless I know what it is, how am I supposed to fix it so I can be desired by the menfolk?

Maybe it's not all my fault. I think that there have been a few mixed signals sent out by my "friend". Perhaps they are being sent out to deliberately confuse me, because people like messing with my mind, I don't know.

So, here's the back story. I work. I socialize at work. Socialization led to hanging out with my "friend", then I got stabbed in the back by the arrow, and now here we are. The thing of it is, he and I hang out for hours after work . . . at work. Never outside of work. Phone numbers haven't been exchanged, love hasn't been professed, dates haven't been made. What the heck? I would say he doesn't dig me at all, but why then, stay after work for hours talking to me? If that isn't a mixed signal, then maybe I am all turned around on the topic. -Plus, we share books and movies and stuff . . .

Naturally, being me, I haven't said anything about being in love with him, because there is that whole fear of rejection thing . . . plus, why say anything if I don't know what the outcome will be. I don't want to set myself up for more heartache on this matter. He already consumes most of my thoughts.

Friends are annoyed because they can see what I can't - he doesn't like me, and things aren't changing to where he is going to. They are getting really upset with me that I don't see that. Hello, I DO see that, but I also have this little sliver of hope that will not leave. I am eternally hopeful - and such is my downfall. If I could just accept that he thinks I am a sea hag, I could move on. For some reason, though, I am under the impression that he is going to suddenly realize he is in love with me, or somehow, find some redeeming quality in me that will completely change his outlook on me. I mean, it's possible, right?

I hate sitting around, being stagnant and waiting for things to happen. I wish I was the type of person who could just go out and make it happen, but I can't. 1) That is not how I am, and 2) I wouldn't know what to do. I doubt my going up to him and saying, "Okay, we're an 'us' now." would go over so well. I mean, sure, he would get a great laugh out of it, but then what?

I think he enjoys messing with my mind. I'll bet he relishes in the fact that he has the power to make me gleeful or miserable.


"Love is a form of prejudice. You love what you need, you love what makes you feel good, you love what is convenient. How can you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world that you would love more if you ever met them? But you'll never meet them."

I have been meaning to write for a long time. Judging by the last entry I made, I have been meaning to write for over a year.

I like writing. Sometimes.

Actually, I guess this isn't technically writing, because I am typing, but it's writing as opposed to, like, bank robbery, so I will continue to use the term 'writing'.

So, yeah, I have been meaning to write for a long time. I even bought a journal to write in. It's cute. Too cute, I think. I don't want to write in it, because at some point in life, the journal will no longer be able to be used. I don't want that.

I guess that is why I am here. It's odd to think of how important writing was to me, and how I never do it anymore. Lots of things are odd, though, if you really think about them. Like the word 'chair'.

I think I have major trust issues. I completely trust people that I shouldn't, and I am very wary of people that I probably should trust. It doesn't blow up in my face or anything, it's just not the smartest move that I should be making. I guess I am okay with my trust issues until I find out that someone has lied to me or something. That really bugs me, because why not just be honest with me? I mean, sure, it might smart that you are a jerk not wanting to hang out with me, but at least I won't be spending the entire day waiting for you to call or something.

My other trust issue is that I am too forgiving, usually to the wrong people. Like, okay, the people I trust and shouldn't - if they lose my trust, I give it back to them too soon, which is wrong. A lot of times, it is wrong to give them the trust back at all. I suck. I am not a people person, I guess. Or I am just a bad people person. Or I am just really stupid.

I went ahead and called Biz last night because she never answers. I can sleep better knowing that I tried to maintain a friendship, even when we only meet up once a year. So, let my standard pathetic pity message and was on with my life.

Lo and behold, she calls me back. After climbing off the floor to which I fell from shock, we decided that she needed to visit . . . and she did.

We talked about how I am slowly going crazy, and many of my other anxiety issues. She said she was relieved because she is just as crazy as I am. It's not that we hate people, we fear them. Our fear manifests itself as severe hatred. Two peas in a pod, eh? Maybe two turkeys in a can? Only one in a million will get that outdated reference.

Old times are fun to talk about, but they all ended with " . . . and then you hated me for the rest of 11th grade."

For the record, I did not push Biz off the stage. She feels bad now, because she was mean in school, but I feel bad because all I brought up were the times that she was mean. I lack conversation skills that make people want to continue to be around me.

I liked the turkeys hoarding the hearts. She liked the girl's legs in front of the burning house. I suggested a trilogy of the turkeys popping the corn, leading into the turkeys hoarding the hearts. I think I would work our nicely.

She wants to knit.

Whenever I find a toilet that flushes really well, I think of Biz.

Now that I am sure I have zero readers, I think I will revive the use of this journal. It will keep me off the streets, if nothing else.

New Year’s was interesting to say the very least.

The evening started out with my plans being changed by a very flaky person, which actually worked out in my favor – I ended up having a good time! Ha!

I went to Marti’s Annual NYE Gala. The only drawback is the drive to Studio City, but it is worth it, because something interesting always happens. At some point, I pass through the looking glass into a whole new world, but I am not quite sure where that happens. It’s either by that fancy bridge in Pasadena, or when I get off the freeway in Studio City and pass that sign that says, “Studio City Welcomes You.” What a polite city! Better than “Welcome to Colton: Prepare to Have the Life Sucked Out of You.”

*****************************************************

Highlights of the evening:

Meeting an adorable family of contortionists

Trying to explain “Jinx” to foreigners

Discussing false eyelashes with Ashley

Being told by Jonny that I do a great deadpan

Having my gorgeous hair raved about for long periods of time

Seeing good friends after a long absence

Being told that I was the first thought and perfect for a part in a movie when Nancy
and Leilani read the script. Awwww, my dreams of becoming famous are becoming slightly more attainable. VERY slightly

Lowlights of the evening:

Having Haylie make fun of my coffee-making skills

Clearing the room of kids by my presence

Having “Happy New Year” screeched in my ear over and over by an obnoxious woman

Having someone violate my neck

Realizing that I had a broken zipper (okay I knew about it before I got there, but
there wasn’t much I could to at that point, so too bad)

Cold, cold, COLD weather

Running into a candle holder/chandelier looking thing and having everyone stop and look at me

Stopping on my way home

*****************************************************


I have been thinking long and hard about my New Year’s Resolutions, and still do not have many concrete ones. Can I carry over all of the ones I made last year?

Okay, here is what I have so far:

Make and keep a new, close friend

Allow myself to let go of those who are hurting me

Choose a path in life to follow

Stop speaking to my Mom with an accent

Become more accepting

Be nice to myself

Think before I speak

Save money like never before

*****************************************************


My car is leaking water into my trunk through my taillights. I hope that is not a sign of things to come . . . well, unless the things to come are like money leaking into my account or something. That would be okay then.

Happy New Year to all, and to all a good night.

Are people out there to eternally upset me? My "friend" (notice the quotations) is in town for the first time in 20,000 years, and we have made tentative plans for a week. It finally sounded like tonight was the night that we would finally meet up.

*** Earlier today ***
Me: Do you want to go to this party?

"Friend": Sure, yeah, great. Let's meet up for dinner first. 8ish.

Me: Yay!

*** Fast forward to about an hour before I plan to leave ***

My cell phone: Do do do do do do do doooooo (it's actually to the tune of In My Life)

Me: Hello?

"Friend": Yeah, I can't make it. I'm out with friends-er something came up. Let's do lunch tomorrow.

Me: (with a forced smile, which was silly because I was on the phone) Sure, yeah, okay.

I am super disappointed and a little curious. If you are ditching my because of family stuff, why are you out with your friends? Hmmmm . . . a little fishy if you ask me. WHy not just say, "I don't want to go tonight. You are not cool and I am embarrassed to be seen with you."

Honesty is the best policy. Which I guess is stupid of me to say if I wasn't honest, but . . . well, for some reason, that's okay.


So I give up and have no plans to meet anywhere for lunch tomorrow (but I will probably start feeling super guilty and change my mind and go).

I wish I had a best friend. Looking back, I never really had one. It would be nice to have someone to hang out with and count on and trust. Sigh.

It's 2:33am on Christmas morning. Shouldn't I be asleep with visions on sugarplums dancing in my head? Well, you'd think so, but now I have visions of moving out and/or murdering my mother and sister dancing in my head.

 

The dreaded sister has returned to once again form an alliance with my mother - an alliance against me. Most people who know me know that whenever the dreaded sister is in town, my mother realizes that she only really wanted two children - my sister and my brother. She and my sister team up on my and just make life miserable for however long she is in town for.

 

You'd think, "Oh, well, this is Christmas, so your dreaded sister won't ruin it, even though she usually is mean on her visits. She will be nice this time." Well, you are an idiot, because not only did she and mother make me miserable, they made me miserable to the 14th degree.

 

After a particularly long journey out to look at Christmas lights (I was lucky and got a prime seat in the back of the car with dreaded sister and mother) I went to my room and went to bed. The more time I can spend in my room, I have realized, the more I enjoy her dreaded visits. Odd thing, that.

 

Anyway, like every night, I have to get up and go to the bathroom. This was about 1:30am, and I found it odd that there were still lights on downstairs. I figured one of the idiot twins left them on, so I began to descend down the stairs to fix this snafu when I heard rather loud whispers. Mom and the dreaded sister were still awake. They were still awake and intently discussing their favorite topic - How Much They Hate Me.

 

"This is not their favorite topic," you are thinking to yourself. "You just came in at the wrong time. If you came in 5 minutes later, the topic would have been something different." You, again, are an idiot, because I stood on the stairs, listening to my sister tell my mother what an awful person I am, and listening to my mother agree and tell her own stories of my wretchedness for, at the very least, 45 minutes. How long can you talk about your favorite topic nonstop when you are dead tired and ready to go to bed? Plus, I came in in the middle of the conversation, so I don't know how long they had been tearing my part before that.

 

This was really lowdown stuff, from how I talk, to how I walk, my choice of hairstyle, television shows, actions I made that evening, actions I made 5 years ago, my feelings, my views, my choice of gifts for the people on my Christmas list, on and on and on.

 

I have discovered that I am an outsider in this family. Granted Dad and the less dreaded brother were not a part of this particular conversation, they have made the same feelings clear to me. This is not said out of some silly sibling rivalry thing, but my mother clearly prefers the company of my sister, and my father clearly prefers the company of my brother. On the sibling front, my brother and sister prefer one another. I think my sister said it best during her hushed conversation with my mother: "If it were just Dad, Joe and I  . . . " She is sort of good at whispering, so the trail off most likely contained some hurtful finish, but from the part that I could hear, it was obvious what she was trying to say.

 

When I've been upset, I have often thought, "When I move out and/or get my own family, I will never (or rarely) come back to visit with these people." Never has this sentiment seemed more realistic than now.

 

Aren't families supposed to like . . . like one another? I feel very dysfunctional. Why am I the root of all the problems when I just want to love and be loved? Why do I have to overhear my sister making threats about my physical safety and my mother laughing at them?

 

And to think, I was actually excited for Christmas. Now I have to go downstairs later this morning and act joyful. If I am not excited, I will be called ungrateful, and told once again that I am ruining the holiday (yes, I was already told once this season that I ruined Christmas), if I act too happy, I am feeding the gruesome twosome more material to tear me apart about. If I confront them about their secret service conversation, it will be turned around on me the way everything else is.

 

I had a friend once who actually told me that she saw what I saw - my mother liked my sister and was dismissive of me. Of course, we are not friends anymore because men were more important to her than our friendship, but she saw it. She was the one person. This family seems to see things differently than I go, and I am always the wrong one.

 

I guess I will just keep to myself this Christmas, hope for the best, and realize that in less than 24 hours, it will all be over.

 

That, or I could find an interesting way to hang myself from the Christmas tree.

Cooooooooool. San Bernardino ranks #16 on the list of the 25 most dangerous cities in the U.S.

Does everything happen for a reason? They had better. Another wondrous job has again slipped by me. At least this time, I didn't go around talking about it to everyone like I did with the MAD TV thing, which could have worked out for me this year if I had called back -- unfortunately, I was so low on funds that I had to take a job and forget about my industry dreams for the moment. Whatever happens, I always fall back on my . . . well, my fallback plan -- going to school to teach. Let's be honest. I don't really want to teach. Kids are okay, I guess. They rock and all, but when I wished upon stars and birthday candles and pennies and eyelashes and necklaces when the clasp came to the front to be famous and adored worldwide, I didn't mean as a teacher. In fact, my wishes were very explicit. That wish fairy has some explaining to do.

As it stands, I will be living at home forever, or until I get a teaching job, which I don't really want to get. All I really want is a job that I enjoy that pays me enough to live comfortably off of. Is that so much to ask? I think not. So why hasn't it happened?

On my way back to the I.E. after my weekend (which was actually a few weekends ago) trip to Palm Springs, I saw a weird billboard. Now, I understand that billboards don't always get updated promptly, but this billboard was advertising some home show or something of the sort. You had to hurry, because it would only be around until April 28, 1996.

There were a lot of rainbow flags in downtown Palm Springs. I just assumed that it had turned into a gay Mecca while I wasn't looking, but it turns out, there was some special thing going on -- no, that is NOT why I went. I went to stay with Granny and Grandpa, so there.

So there is this kid in the SDC class that comes into the computer lab who I think is moderately to severely mentally retarded. I don't know what his specific issue is other than that. Anyway, we is always fun to play with because he likes to color in pictures on this one program all the correct colors. Blonde hair, peach skin, black outfit, red lips, etc. I always come by and color the hair green and the skin purple, and he always says, "Noooooooo" and fixes it. I have had detailed conversations with this kid, but I never really understand him because his vocabulary skills aren't that good. Well, today was his first day back on track and I started our little game again, and he pointed to a color and said "Feo!" He said it a few times, and I was just like, "Okay, whatever kid" to myself. Then he made a hand gesture, pointed at another kid, and said, "Baaaanaaaa." It seemed urgent, so I got the SDC aide, and showed her the gesture (it's either sign language or a special gesture they made up in class), and she said, "Oh! Baño!"

Then I figured it out.

This kid that I have had these extended conversations with for the whole school year speaks Spanish! Yeah, I am not too swift.

Is there such thing as trying too hard to keep friends? I mean, really. Lately is seems as though although I try to be friends with my friends, I am the one forgotten and left out. It’s not big things like not inviting me places or anything, it’s stuff like not emailing me back, but posting a million messages on other people’s websites . . . indicating that you clearly have time, but not bothering to show me that I mean anything to you.

Then I get the whole “Oh, I will totally call/email you, I swear.” Then I get happy and feel silly for feeling bad, but of course, the email or call never comes, and then I feel bad again. Since 90 bazillion of my friends do this, I think I am the one with the issues. Is it so wrong to want to have a friend who acts . . . well, like a friend? I have had the worst friend luck in my life – they either turned on me for reasons unknown, ditched me for boys, or got the impression that they are superior to me and are sure to let me know it.

I feel kind of silly that I was willing to give up my life, school, and job to help someone out only for them to decide that I am not important anymore.

This is why I don’t go out anymore – why try to make friends with someone who won’t value me? Pretty sad that the only thing in the world I want is a true friend, isn’t it?

I guess we always want the things we can’t have.