<3<3<3

So I'm not sure what to type right now.

I have Miss Michigan's Outstanding Teen Pageant the 15th (well, we have to BE in MUSKEGON on that date. The pageant actually runs 4 days, the 18th-21st.)

And I have 3 new dresses, that may or may not be my new homecoming dresses(having a boyfriend that goes to another school causes this plural happening)

One, is BIG and it is YELLOW, and it is EXPENSIVE, and for the life of me, I can only think of 2 events I will EVER wear it too.
- 1) The pageant, for evening gown. Obviously.
- 2) And when I give up my crown, at the local pageant that got me into this chaotic mess.

Isnt that nice?

Another one, it is WHITE (which, by the by, has joined green and yellow as my favorite colors. Don't tell me it's a shade, because i know, and I don't care)

Its sort of that bubbly sort of bottom that people wear alot lately, the "It" thing, as one may call it. and the band around the bottom is sillver sequins and the arm-straps and hems and strap under the bust are sequined too.

I have to wear a strapless bra because its a size 13 and even my huge 36D's protest when they are trying to fill that size.

This dress is for the talent part of my competition and since I am not dancing or ventriliquising, or baton-twirling, or whatever else you may consider a talent,
I'm singing an Italian Aria.
That I have basically sung all over Michigan and at some point someone will say, "Jesus Christ, can you SING anything ELSE???"

To which I will respond, "Not well."

The OTHER dress, the one I got at a notoriously expensive boutique downtown for only $40, has no reall purpose except,
I like it,
it was cheap
and it was the type of dress that only flat chested girls can usually wear, and it was the first time that type of dress even cam CLOSE to fitting.

So I'm proud.
Very Very proud.
And I will wear it everytime I feel as though I should have gotten a breast reduction, as though to say, "See everyone, they DO behave once in awhile!"

other weird summer things have happened.
and im not able to talk about it with anyone.
because im torn between sides and EVERYONE has a side they're on.

I hate it and it has no place in my journal.

I go on spring break next week and all I can think about is what I will buy down in Panama City Beach and how to eliminate tan lines.

Also:
The boyfriends birthday is the day after we come back. He is not going on spring break

Note:Must update journal more frequently, because readers are entirely unaware that there is even a boyfriend in the picture. Also they are unaware that he has been there for a good 4 months or so.

and,
I am not looking forward to trying to walk down to the store on the corner at 11 at night for jaw breakers, and have to endure stumbling 19-year-olds that smell strongly of cheap beer and shitty liquor. And the crowds of college guys that have dips of tobacco in their lips that make them look as if they are in one of those tribes in Africa or South America(wherever which) that stretch their lips.

I know, terribly attractive.

You know, I would not be so reserved about this trip if it werent for the fact that our small Michigan town has just celebrated St. Patty's Day. And I have had my fair share of walking down the street, passing by crowds of people positively sweating Guinness and Jameson Whiskey.

Only in our town, we don't wait until later to start getting slooshed. No, we instead line Center Avenue with Beer tents, and throw large parties with famous Irish bands and green Jell-O shots.

Oh and Cotton Candy for the kids.

Our town has made a holiday of drinking and partying, bigger than Christmas.
I am, of course, ashamed by this, and yet...a part of me is slightly proud, which shows you that I call this drinking, partying, inbred city my hometown.

Cheers, everyone.

So you can see my lack of excitement here. And you know the sad part?
You would think that going to such a fantastically notorious spring break town such as Panama City Beach would show you the variety of people out there, make you feel like you are only exaggerating the horridness of your town because--Look! Other people are getting schnockered too!--but I arrive here in this town....

And who do we run into?
A Bay Citian. One of us.

It's inevitable that at any given foam party you go to, there are at least 10 Bay City people.

Once again everyone...

Cheers.

I dont really see why I try. For other people, it may seem obvious why to try.
It may turn out better than you think, sure!
It makes you seem like a hero when you succeeed, yeah!
It makes the payoff so much better, heck yes!

But i dont get any of that at all.

I've tried, it doesnt turn out better, it doesnt turn out at all.
I'm not a hero just because I scraped a B- out of my Biology quiz.
And I don't get any payoff. If I do, it's because of fluke, and all I can think about is how I never want to do it again.

Its like when I worked for my Grandpa. Sure, I got $110. But the entire time I was miserable and could only think that if I got off early, it was better than any money my Grandpa were to give.

I'm just not a good person. I don't have a good, genuine, authentic, "raised by good values" personailty. It's just not there, I have no chartacter no matter how much my dad tried to beat some into me.
And he tried everything he possibly could have, his latest actually being nice to me for once. Which seems to be the only thing that works.

But I know that good character never came out of people being nice to a person. Which SHOULD give me alot of character, people being Asssholes to me all the time and all.

Nature vs. Nurture
I like to think of the reall outcome as a sort of mixed drink. You take a kind of alcohol, (the nature bit) and mix it with fruits, or juice, or tomato juice(thats the nurture).

If they work together, everyone likes it. Sometimes only certain sorts of people like certain kinds of drinks.

If not, than drinking it sucked and all you get is a nasty sort of hangover in the morning. Personally, I think most people are 2 parts moonshine, 1 part cow manure.

But me, I think someone inexperienced(my parents? especially my mother...) walked behind the bar counter of a really classy place and made a botched martini, but knowing they couldnt serve it because the bar had a reputation to uphold, decided that maybe they could fix it by throwing the dregs at the bottom of all the liquor bottles -rum, vodka, gin, guinness...gasoline- into the botched martini and added a really sweet slice of lime to the edge of the glass, and called it a Rachael.

And then he was promptly fired from his job.

Just something didnt work with something. Something in my "Nature" part of me didn't work with my "nurture" bit.


I always feel like there are 2 people clashing inside of me, and they're both opposite, both have different ideas and places to be...
And they both can't stand each other.

So it's like a part of me is always hating something that I'm doing.

There's one person inside of me and her name is Ally. She dresses in sundresses in the spring, and soft chenille turtlenecks in the fall. She loves when shes with friends, and she's always happy when she's done something right. She can find amusement in anything, and can find happyness in the littlest of light. She knows that passion is the way to go and shes driven to be the best singer she can, just because she always enjoys it.
She doesn't always enjoy doing the rigt thing but she knows that shes got to get through the bad in order to get through to the good. She gets hurt alot, but she always gets up, and leaves more walls around herself so she doesnt have to feel it all the time. She's SuperWoman.


Then theres the other. Her name is Samson. She has a first name but she doesn't like it because it's spelled funny and no one gets it right. She wears sweatshirts and hoodies and jeans that don't fit because she didn't get enough sleep and wanted to sleep in. She tries, but she can't see why it should be that way. She's tired of looking for all the good in people and she thinks that if people are genuinly good then they should put it out there for everyone to see because she gets sick of looking. She knows that singing is the ONLY thing that can make her truly happy for the rest of her life, and she knows that Ally knows it too, but Ally is trying to pretend that she would be happy with just a normal life and job, because if shes not famous, then shes not happy, and Ally's ALLWAYS HAPPY. Samson likes being with friends, but theres always that part in her mind that says, "I can't stand these people. I'm not getting anything important done, and after this, I will not be happy because I will just have to go back to something I HATE. She knows that passion isnt worth shiitt if you are always being knocked down. She gets hurt alot, and she doesn't ever want to get up. She shouldnt HAVE to look through a ton of bad to find the littlest of good. She's unprotected alot, because she can't keep her mouth shut, and she doesnt know why it's so hard to control herself. She wants to die, and she wants to die now.


Not much is going to save me.
Interlochen would but mom doesnt want me to go, I can tell.

I am tommarow morning going camping up to Patosky's KOA campsite. I wouldn't really call it camping.
Maybe 'Glorified Rustic Living' is more suitable. We have cable and more movie's than you would beleive. My dad got a deal somewhere or another for around 45 VHS tapes, and they are in that strange place between 'new crap movies' and old classic type.
Most of them are nineties I think, like Striptease and Jerry Mcguire.
It is appalling though, that out of all those tapes, he didn't manage to score Sybil. Really, Sally Feild was just lovely(or not, I suppose) in it.

But anyways.
Over the past couple or nothing weeks, as I have been preparing for the Pageant, I have had several possible interveiw questions thrown at me, and I sometimes have to wonder how many other contestents bullshit entirely?

I was asked to define what a 'winner' was.
It's the person with the damned trophy, duh.
But I didn't think that answer was appropriate, what with the Little Misses and Princesses there too.

And then I was asked what my best memory was.
They really DONT want to know, I doubt.
I sometimes wonder what they would say if I said, "Well it involved Wes's tongue down my throat that day he got the keys to the training room, and we both took advantage of the fact people just assumed it was locked."

No, sometimes people say they want the answer, but they really don't. That's why I hate when people ask me what I really think of them. I don't want to know what they think of me, not REALLY, so why would they?

If I can make assumptions, so can they.

Okay so I broke to a tangent.
But anyways.
I was just observing.

So, I didn't klill myself.
Overdramatic? Yes, but I really loathe the dentist. I think it's because it's one of those events that you can't put out of your mind. You know? Like when you're in a miserable situation, you can put yourself somewhere else, think about something else. Pretend you're not there and it isn't really happening.

But when you've got a drill in your mouth and you're drooling like an seizure victim, you can't just pretend it's not happening. It's just too uncomfortable. And i always feel ill afterwards, and alot of times I throw up, because I tense up so much.

So feel me out here. I had a right to be overdramatic.

Oh well.

I think I'm going to go kill myself right now.

It's a teary night for me, maybe because I've been listening to Breaking Benjamin, Porcelain and the tramps, and...

Just very depressing music. Of course, it's just in time, it's nearly time for my break-down week.

Things that I sometimes do during my break-down week-
I rediscover the horrible fanfic site that quizilla has become

I hole up, reading fanfic, or Harry Potter Books.

I spend alot of time in my old bedroom, seeing what my sister has done with it since I moved into the basement.

I go through my brothers bookcase

I start a half-assed fan fic of my own, which I abandon as soon as possible generally.

I cry over silly things.

I go to the park alot, or go to the graveyard alot.

I sometimes stop eating.


Why? Because it's my last week of summer and I never get that greatly elating sensation. Last year was MAYBE not as bad, but that was because I had just hooked up with Elle's brother, and there's nothing better than being a whore to cheer you right up. Scientific Fact. Don't try to argue with it, you can't win against Science.

But the difference this year, is I CAN'T shut down. I have the pageant, practice for The Girls, and god knows what else. PLUS shopping. This is why I'm up every night till 3 in the morning.

I dont know the tearyness is definately there. I feel as though I'm missing something.


I know one thing, this would be a bad night for Nick to IM me because, despite me having banished him permanently from my thoughts.

So he should be gone, but you know, I try my best. It's all anyone can ask from me. I hope he doesnt try to talk to me when school starts. Right now I'm thinking I could find a drink and dump it on him, or maybe just a simple cold indifferent shoulder shrug, but I get a nagging feeling he'd be his same self.

And THEN I'd turn into that vulnerable little school girl that crosses her arms, looks confused, and bites her lip in that oh-so-annoying way.

I was more that way around Wes, but I'm still the same mess I was, despite how much I'd like to beleive I'm immune to my former addictions.
I think the reason that I was like it more around Wes was because I kind of felt like he knew which buttons to press to get me to fall for him(which he did) and not only that but he was a take-charge kind of guy, which I kind of buckle under.
Nick was more like, "I'm afraid of her rejection." Or maybe he was just repulsed by me, I guess we'll never know.


Good Christ, I hate Augusts.

August, then May, because its unbeleivably busy, and then February, because there is ZERO to do that month. Usually whatever project I just finished in January(annoying plays that are too depressing to name) is done, and then the spring play for school gets really going towards the end.

Of course, we are starting practice for Dancing in the Rain super early, even though alot of us will be in Miracle worker at the same time.

But you deal, I guess. Just persevere and hope for something or someone along the way to make it all worth it, and makes you get it.

I have yet to find that someone. But I am young so lets avoid such an unfortunately hopeless situation.

=] =]

Those are my smiley faces that portray "Everything is Alright" by MCS.


In other news, my fear of lakes has been undeniably justified. I have come down with a mild case of leprosy, so has Laurel. We were both in that lake that Tawas is on(wait, Saginaw Bay? Or Lake Huron? Whatever.) and so I would like to say that we both have a scaly sort of thing on the exact same place on our arms. She says it's just sun burnt skin thats peeling but I am convinced otherwise.

It's the evil that lurks in lakes and oceans and...
well maybe I'm just biased. I can't help it, I'm afraid of everything.

Bugs, especially small ones.
Arragog, the affectionately named spider(by laurel in a fit of Harry Potter frenzy) that lives above the couch where I SLEEP.

The dark

Every scary movie out there. I'm even afraid of Scary movie 1-4.

Actually anything with death in it.
I'm not afraid of death, just watching people doing it.

Getting hurt. It's why I avoid rooftops and slicing vegetables. It maintains that mental image of mysself as Superwoman, and that I'm invincible.

The fact that at some point, I'm going to have to come to grips with reality and actually do something with my life.

Growing up. I'm perfectly fine where I am

Getting fat/ugly

Changing

not changing

Bathroom scales

My chemical romance one day breaking up.

and my NUMBER ONE BIGGEST FEAR OF ALL TIME
THE DENTIST.
And his evil tools of torture. No dont say it's nothing, it scares the balls out of me. I may be being childish but I scream cry, hyperventilate, and generally make a scene. Afterwards I usually dry heave or vomit.
It's not an enoyable experience.


But that is neither here nor there. tootles, I am writing something on Quizilla. And maybe it sucks, but it's a good release.

Okay, well mostly FanFic crisis averted.

Mostly. I forgot that the first time I started reading the series, was on Fanfiction.net

Unfortunately it is a terrifically professional site, and you no longer feel like you're connected with your writer, even though it's the same story. I don't know, with it on Livejournal it was like, "Hey look at this story I wrote Rachael!"

"Oh wow Starry, this is so cool! Thanks"
Even though thats obviously not what happened. The writer didn't know that everyday I prettty much blew off everything I was supposed to do to read it, cuz I never commented until now. Which said comment cannot even be found now.
Scary.

But on the fanfiction site it's like the write handed over the transcript to a publisher that discouraged them from making any public appearances and meeting their adoring fans.


Now you say, "Just find a new Fic to read."

NO because I've attempted such a task before. I promise you I have TRIED. But it didnt work. All of the other fics focus majorly on sex and it's not really like a book, which is how starry_gazer's stories feel(by the by and such, thats the writer's lj name).

The other fics out there just really focus on sex, and you cant get into it. Starry does smut of course. But tastefully done smut. and it's...maybe not as overly done as other fics.


BUT I really can't help that, can I?
It's her decision about what to do, dont you think?
In fact, I'm being very mature about this, not throwing a big unholy fit.

Well at least not on the computer. In my mind I am a massive feiry ball of rage.


And to TOP IT ALL OFF.
Laurel elbowed me in her sleep, cuz I went to bed so much later than her. Or something. Evil evil bitch.
JUST KIDDING. I always feel bad after insulting her. Maybe she has changed me a little. I have a consience now.

Well, something very sad indeed just happened. literally only 9 minutes ago, my favorite FanFic(yeah I read it, do something about it) was put on freinds only..or something of that nature.

It's depressing, I've read that series since...

Well for awhile. It's been finished for awhile, but there were two parts.
The Master Plan and
The Obligatory Sequel(who loves the word 'obligatory'? I do, almost as much as 'genitalia', even though I'm not quite positive of how to spell it)

I actually watched the Obligatory sequel go from being just a couple stories to being almost as long as the original. It was like a child really, though I am terrible at handling such creatures.

But on the whole, I am mourning the loss. And right in the middle of summer, when I actually had time to read it.

I sent the writer a comment, but they have not responded yet(though who would at 2 in the morning, and besides it was 3 minutes ago I sent it.)




But in other news, pageant training sucks big time, and I have The Girls' practice on Sunday, with Mrs. Hughes, the one teacher I have some amount of respect for, watching.

I am dead nervous, and there is NO WAY she is not going to find me to be a moron.

not to mention the other 3 girls in the group are 3 years older than me.

It's dreadfully tiring to keep hoping for something that isnt going to happen.

Which is how I feel about alot, even though my fears are silly and unfounded.

But I feel like I start getting something done, and then I fall out in someway, fall off course.

For instance, with my weight. I am just so unwilling to get off my ass and obssess about it.

I know its unhealthy to obssess about weight, but really its the only way I'll get something done about it.
But that and I'm very very tired, and overwhelmed with the idea that i have to go through a new school year and deal with the same things that just keep coming up and appearing too many times.

I hate having to deal with the same things over and over, and worst of all I know its my fault, but its not going to change anything.

Its not how my mind works.

And on one hand the whole thing where I have no boyfriend and no interests is just simple and uncomplicated and lovely but on the other hand, I just can't stand being alone and uninvolved.

What I need is a secret, a secret tryste(oh why cant i learn to spell? im near positive that is the uncorrect spelling)
just so I can vent and steam off all of my pent up sexual frustration. part of me wants to contact kara and say, "we need to do something...call deon"
because deon wouldnt refuse and it would be part revenge on him for teasing and tempting me during the school year, especially on exam day for science. he was horrible. I'd let off some sexual frustration, and as he climaxed, i would sneer in satisfaction for getting to have absolute control of him for even a moment.
He may have thought he had the upper hand, but he wouldnt anymore.

I have a twisted way of thinking, and i cant beleive I just wrote as if I was some sort of freakish widow who spent her time writing murder stories on her ancient typewriter.

And I know even if I did do such a thing, it wouldnt prove anything, and eventually I would become hungery for flesh, needy for warmth and passion and fast embraces;quick, like a substitute drug, or a nicotine patch, that works for only some time, and fast wears off and leaves you craving so much more.

It's love and closeness that I need, but I can't have it. My bitter mind absolutely refuses to let me. And my behavior is appalling, and not at all the type needed to attract a boy with half a brain cell.
There are only a handful of decent and caring-and most importantly-smart, guys in our grade.
I can only think of one, and he is currently enamoured with my best friend, and I know him all to well, and can't think of one good reason why we should ever become romantically involved.


But for now I would like to settle for skin-on-skin, but it's too hard to fall into old patterns and pastimes, ones that are all too unattractive.

who knows how hard I have to try to just keep myself on this track, this path that heads to unsure, far-in-the-distance payoff? I know that currently I am keeping my head forward and above water. I have everything more or less under control. But everytime I think I may have everything in order, that I've finally straightened it all out and eradicated most personal obstacles that prevent me from my goals(however fuzzy and undifined they may be) I usually find myself knocked to my knees, and struggling to breath. I know it sounds silly but it seems as if it is all too easy for me too fall off my perch. Little things.

Who knows, maybe its clear. I mean, not entirely clear, I'm a teenager, adolescence is never going to be a party that I can merely dance through as I please.
It's not a keg line i have to wait in either, though I beg someone to disagree that I fully deserve more of those(that is, kegs) in my life, if only to take my mind away from things for awhile.

Maybe thats a bad thing to write, considering I am running for Miss Teen Bay County, but anyone who knows me knows I say that in jest.

I just simply wish for someone to get through it with. Lals is a wonderful supporter, but is not always there. I have a tendency to modify myself so that i dont have to talk about myself around her. I think this is more because I have realized she doesnt particularly enjoy my stories, and really no one else does for that matter.

Because I know that my self-revelations are only interesting to me. So I tend to keep it to myself. It's been 14-15 good long years of training myself to do so but I finally have my mouth, my brain, and my stories under relative control. Good for me.


I dont know what is fueling my vocabulary today, it may be all the pageant training..who knows?

So I know this is late, but today is wednesday(actually, thurday morning. technicalities really)
and on friday the simpsons movie opened and my mother bullied me into going with my brother. Lals went with and somehow Jose, Brady(Well, Sean), and Kyle got suckered into going with us. I feel awful about the whole night, because this was my brothers night. It was THE MOVIE of his adolescence for him. It was important and i feel as if I took something away from him. I know he is just supposed to be my stupid younger brother, but he is so important to me. I dont know why, but the phrase "hes my BROTHER for gods sake!" comes to mind, and thats important enough. He's the only one who knows most of what I've been through with our parents, and the divorce, and he's one of the most important parts of my life even though I dont show it enough.

So that night we meant to go see the movie, but nearly every seat was filled. We basically forced my brother to go sit by a friend who was with people that I knew but alex didnt. Then we ended up leaving him and lals, because none of us were willing to sit through a movie without all of us sitting together. So we leave and thought about switching for a new movie. Well we ended up getting our money back, and we asked Jose's cousin to take us to Hooters(with no idea how to get back to the theater) and we all crammed in the back of his truck. There was only seats for three people and so I layed across the guys' laps. And consequently got my toe closed in the door which hurt BAD by the way.

So I'm laying there and it was not a fun trip. We got to Hooters and...

Well, we ate. And if you are ever looking for a real Hooters experience, do it-not with your boyfriend- but with 3 guys:
one whos girlfriend just broke up with him
another who's self confidence is as low as the terrorists that hit the trade centers
and a boy who just made out with the other guys girlfreind that just broke up with him and is trying to keep it a secret.

I promise you, its everything you wanted and more.


Then we went out by the docks, since our Hooters is right on the river, and just sat around until we got a ride from Jose's brother back and made it in time.

It was just an incredibly weird, ehilerating and guilt-inducing experience. I dont know why, but I've never had a moment with three guys when they didnt harass me for sex, or make sexual jokes allll the time. Not since...like 3rd grade. Well maybe slightly exaggerated but close.

I think I may have changed. Who knows? Maybe this time I'm not kidding myself.


Of course, there was a definate jolt back to reality when we got to the mall entrance of the theater, and Austen was with friends at the front.

He flooded my head with memories of that garage and the sweatiness of that day.


Whatever, I'm trying right?