| | Since we moved back to the country, I have not kept a journal. I have not written as much as I used to. Lately I have been reading book after book with a little CSI thrown in. I am a regular at the library, ordering books like a fiend. | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment   |
| | I think that I am very tired of hearing about women who think they can change their boyfriends/husbands. That shit never happens. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | So after someone from a freeway overpass flung a rock into my windsheild, it has taken the auto glass repair shop three tries to fix it properly. I am not a picky person. I would rather not hear the wind ruch past the driver's side when the passenger side does not share the same amount of racket. The mobile truck is going to come out again on Saturday, so hopefully the rain will not seep into any leaks that may or may not be there. I just bought the car, it's my first new car, and this happens. Unbelieveable. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | A friend of mine is still driving around with a trunk load of potential donations that no one wants to take. Any suggestions? She really wanted to give it to the Buddhist Temple, but they already met their weight requirement. Her heart is inthe right place, but people mostly want cash donations. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Is it really too much to ask for a little quiet? I'm really beginning to hate thin walls and hardwood floors. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Kids were out trick or treating last night. Too many people in a snitover Halloween on a Sunday. Isn't All Hallows Eve a tad worse? Oh well, seeing people limp back from the bars in full costume while we drove home was a great sight. And since I have never trick or treated, my friend filled my purse with candy! The good stuff too! | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I like getting weird email as much as the next person. First someone tells me my grandparents are alive and want to meet me and now this:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From : Marietta <teimihhrjz@mustgoodbye.com>
Sent : Friday, October 22, 2004 9:44 AM
To : "Mitzie Veola"
Subject : Re:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
secret running played \/AL1UM $75, XANAAX $75, CIAL11S $96, AMBIEEN $72,
\/IAAGRA $85, 0RIG1NAL QUALITY by start chair
http://repetitionaround%2earcticsit%2enet%2Ekb%2eww%77w.%75su%61%6C%6C%73%6fft.%62iz?seven
pale conscience occurrence knowing afraid into, feeling future yourself land,
return suppose surprise size twenty fine, news giving practice bent.
drop secret mere filled, cousin captain comes language accept gym easy oh"
spring had dare mischievous grade room carried simple, usual comes planned
person stretch accept"
suppose language everybody form creature need exaggerate journal" human against
master daughter" committee placed an medicine. enemy concentrate worse chapter
approach fair letters.
something strength chief embarrass ache said purpose relief ninety. gave picture
monday exaggerate great break. grow colour skiing excitement made center gone"
return mischievous subject please circumstances cost comfort,
opposite let their we order. spite put other move besides oclock anybody paper"
taught recommend broken hour awful worse eyes time. every girl awhile stop
worthy reference have future.
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And my name is not Mitzi! | | comments: Leave a comment |
| The only reason they have a house to live in is because of her parents, the only reason they are even in California is because her parents moved them here, and the only reason the house is clean is because her mother cleaned it.
And I can't make this clearer because too many calls are coming in. As soon as a complete thought forms, the stupid phone rings. All I know is that this is very frustrating. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | So how much prayer is too much? And can a person ever have too much prayer directed toward them? | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Thinking about the ways mental illness has been glamorized. See Jane Magazine for details. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Reading Cobain's journal. No mention of C.Love at all in the first few pages he writes about wanitng to be big and famous in the joking sense, and then it happened. And a member of the Who was asked to review the journals, but stuck it in his drawer and dismissed it as rambles of a "sad boy." Even Burroughs said there was something the matter with Cobain, he didn't smile.
Emailed the gradute coordinator to see if there's a chance I'll be able to get in the program. If not, then maybe he can suggest an alternative.
Printed pictures posted online.
Surrounded by digital cameras and I want one.
Multivitameins keep the fatigue away and I cooked a meal. A very basic one but at least dinner did not come form McDonald's or Taco Bell. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| the days before christmas: a nervous pit in my stomach. nausea and vomitting ensued. brother babbling about imaginaery phone conversations; conversations that were supposedly taped by P and then played so that people could laugh. recorded conversations that never took place even though he insists that it did. and mom sounding so tense and frustrated, so very in the spirit of the day she actually left a message on the answering machine how amazing is that?
still a nervous pit today i ate a meal from panda express and then wished i had eaten less stomach irritable. thinking about counseling about a way to tell my parents what i want to what i should be able to tell them but know that they'll hit the roof if they hear it for real and i want to be able to verbalize this but i can't without being reduced to sobs to gasping for air between hiccuped breath which only does so much good it only shows that i am in pain but i cannot verbalize what hurts because all speech is gone and i am just a blubbering wreck | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | one day i wish that my family could just accept that i am happy with P, that we have been together nearly three years and that it won;t change until i decide to make it change. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Eating dinner before Mass. We'll take a nap and then go to St. Ignatius. Last year Mass was held at 10 instead of 12, which was silly. We won't miss it this year. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Two points shy of passing the Cbest. Two points, this sucks. Called Kelly Services, maybe I'll be able to sub without passing the Cbest, to sub with just a BA. The next test is February 8 2003. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| It's raining again. Yesterday it came down in sheets, flooding the street in front of the house. Wind blew water off roofs and sometimes into the window. This is strange because the window faces the street, toward the sunrise. I stateyd in with homework, coffee and a pilfered cigarette to keep me going. The noises of the neighbors next door, the slams of little boys' feet. It always finds its way into every story I write. Their two boys always make an appearence. Probably because when the weather is good and dad isn't watching, they make an escape for the quiet of our side. Away from the overpowering smell of linen spray from the dollar tree. Too much of it smells stale, makes the house smell even stranger since it masks cigarette and pot odors.
But none of that enters in.
School is almost over. My last day is tomorrow. One more story to turn in and four more to critique. I will find a way into grad school. No breaks. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| New wave music from the satellite is perfect for writing. Rebecca Brown comes to CSUS tomorrow night. I have never read anything by her before, have not heard of her before now. But she is coming as a favor to Rice. It should be interesting. And I pass out copies of my short story, a first draft so that people can critique it. I am still writing the first draft. Page 6 out of 12. 6 more to go. And another essay due tomorrow as well. But it wrote itself, rather simple.
P is gone for the moment, buying swag from a friend. I have since stopped smoking in all forms. Back to caffeine consumption. I always feel that there is so much to do so much to see. I want to be awake for it all and end up falling asleep at 11 pm. Work tomorrow and I am still trying to get the hang of the Instead cups. Rather tricky contraptions.
Awhile back I broke the engagement ring. Knocked the stone off in the wash. P found it but it still hasn't been fixed. I don't know that this means anyhting yet.
Nearly free from debt. Almost there. It's all about the count down.
A while back I finally talked to Experimentego. We had a good converstaion until I hade to go sleep. | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| UNtil recently I have been burind beneath mound of papers, searching for a way out. And then I found it with an application to graduate. And i don't want to go, so I find ways to delay it, to delay any kind of really being finished with school. Because I like the priveledge of being able to attend school. And I am not ready to give it up. Not finished.
As the BA draws near, it also means that if I pass the CBEST I'll be able to sub and all the rest. And pay bills and buy a house, which I don't want to do. I will pay bills but I don't want to buy a house. I'd rather move around a bit more, then decide where I actually want to settle. Why put down roots now? Just not something I am interested in.
So I am independent. I can put air in my own goddamn tires and pour more powerer steering fluid into the tank. Watch out. And I do mean that with all sarcasm included, realizing how petty that is. Silly even. But the point is that I allowed myself to become weirdly crippled/dependent upon this situation continuing. And just let myself become enclosed. Gone from one to the next.
I finally created characters that I care about. Finally. | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
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bluemovie's journal