The dream again.

So, like I said this morning, I had this dream.
It's kind of a constant dream, except it varies a little bit...I came to a realization today about it, but that will come after the explaination about the dream.
Oddly enough, it's always a blog. This time it was HIS blog, which is weird, considering I haven't dreamed about him for like, two weeks. (big accomplishment, there.)....Maybe it's wishful thinking, who knows...
Anyway, so the blog entry talks about his day and how it's the exact same as yesterday and the day before...one part was like "It seems all I ever do is wake up, get ready for work, work my shift, eat a meal, go to sleep, then start the thing over again..."...of course, there was other stuff in there, but I don't feel comfortable writing about it right now, just in case THEY are watching. Yes, I'm paranoid, but yes, there are THEYs around.
Anyway, the realization is, these dreams about blogs have been my life through other's voices. And yes, it is as boring and depressing as it sounds.

God, I want to be in love. I want someone to be in love with me. I want to find someone to fight with and to cuddle and to hit and to maybe want to spend their life with me. I don't want it now, and I know I have plenty of time blahblahblah, but it feels like if I don't change myself NOW, it will never happen...It's this insane urgency that I assume is springing from my summer...I mean, everything was so quick, and I really, really, really liked him and I am so sick of whining about it, but everything went by so FAST, and I feel like I missed out on a really good thing by speeding everything up. I'm not talking about the sex, I'm talking about everything else...I mean, I guess I feel like since I'm young now and someone liked that, if I'm not so young, they, or anyone else, won't like it. I'm almost afraid to get any older...I'm okay with the responsibilities of getting older--I can deal with that! It's just physically. I want to look a little older (maybe 19. Whoopie.), but that's it. I don't know. I feel like my life is flying by way too fast, yet way too slow. I can't explain it, but it all stems back to want and need.
I'm trying really hard to lose weight.
I dyed my hair a funny color.
I'm trying to get amazing grades.
I'm trying, and nothing is working. I feel non-existant.
Most of my angst is about HIM, I know, but I feel that if I'm going through all of this stuff to make his life a little better, the least I can get is much better than "i dont fucking care".....
God.

Wistful Dreams

God, sometimes I wish my dreams were real. Then, at least I'd know that I'm actually doing this for SOMETHING.
*sigh*
I'm nervous, but I know it's right. I'm nervous about hurting everyone else, but if they would have listened to me! It wasn't right to start with, but this is even less-right, so.....

Anyway, I have to get ready for school. Figure out something I can do with this fire-engine-red hair of mine...

Stuff I should be doing right now

1. Working on my Criminology paper. I'm drowning in that class, and I should really try and pull myself out. Bleh. Maybe not.
2. Typing up my Test Corrections. Am I going to tonight? Maybe. They're for my favorite teacher, so I want to suck up, but daaamn, I'm lazy.
3. Walking/jogging/running on the treadmil. I'm not. Why? Because I don't want to. Yes, it's healthy for me, but do I want to waste an hour of my precious sitting-on-my-butt-time? NO. Will I do it later? Probably not, but I can trick myself into thinking I will.
4. Cleaning my room. Ha, ha, ha.
5. Making up my advanced spanish work. I went from an A+ to a C...Will I do it? No. I hate the teacher and am using that as an excuse to not do the work.
6. Not eating carbs. Prom is in TEN DAYS and I have yet to stop sneaking little tastes of naughty things. God, no wonder I'm not losing weight. :(. Even worse, court is in, like, less than two months and am I hot yet? No. >:( RAWR.

*sigh*
What I AM doing, though, is obsessing over yahoo answers. God, I love it. I yell at people about politics, about grammar, about everything. It's perfect. I love it.
The only problem is that they have stupid Moderators. I had a post in the spanish translation section that said "mis zapatos son negros" (my shoes are black), and they blocked it because it was "racist". WHAT THE HELL??? So, I made a post ranting and raving about how the hell is NEGRO a bad word? IT'S THE PROPER TERM! Unless, of course, they wanted us to use "Negroid"...I look at my email a while later, and my thread had gotten deleted for using derogatory terms, and they included "negroid" in that list. Did they include "Mongol"? No. So, I sent an email back to the Service Section saying "why don't you just block every color name and make us use R:16, G: 17, B:22??
They haven't replied.
God, it pisses me off. If something as simple as saying "my shoe is black" is going to be considered unPC, I might have to leave. Go to canada where everyone speaks french and won't listen to me anyway.

On another note, today is the last day of spring break, but I only have to go to two and a half more days...The third quarter ends on friday! Only fourtysome days left until I can go to the now-agonizing hellhole that I used to love so much-Work. Full time.
No one is happy anymore. It's really sad. The new GM is retarded and doesn't have enough experience. He's changing things around (which is good), but pissing people off. He's literally trying to replace everyone who was there before him with his little cronies from his former job. I told my boss that if I get moved to Janitorial, I'd quit and go work at a diffrent truck stop. He agreed, but I don't think he remembers that the only other one has Mr.Phen working there...Tee-hee.
God, I'm obsessed.

Goodbye for now.

Case open, case shut

Okay, THIS is how I know I have an addictive personality and should not do any more coke than absolutely necessary (I don't do drugs, I swear to god.)...I decided to resuscitate my blog, and then about two seconds later, I decide to post again.

I was going through my other blogs (you know, the usual ones-Xanga, MySpace, Livejournal, Deadjournal, etc...) and the old posts on here...
Jesus, I sound fucked up. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm making it worse...I mean, bulimia sounds worse when you read it than when you're doing the barfing-no joke. When you're bent over the toilet, you don't think "oh jesus, i'm one fucked up little girl", you think "huh. I ate that third, i'm getting close". It's after.
But I've stopped barfing...It's been over a year now, but that doesn't mean I haven't thought about it. It's a constant in my head, almost like S...except that bulimia isn't going to go to jail for being in my throat...
Okay, that was crude.
I don't know if I've established this in writing yet, but I have a serious anger problem. My counseler in sixth grade made me take home an anger managment book-I threw it out the window, then threw a match on it. No joke. It's humorous now, but god damn, it was stupid. But I regress...I'll be sitting there all happy and stuff, then suddenly I'll feel chlosterphobic, hot, out of control, and like I swallowed hot, hot coffee. I'll blow up. I don't know what happens or why it happens, but it makes me even more pissed off-not to mention, it gets me in mucho trouble...I've tried talking about it, but I just sound like a whiney loser...Much like when I told my casemanager lady that I thought I was manic depressive. *sigh*

"for when she is good,
she is very, very good,
and when she is bad,
she is horrid"

My self-diagnosis

Hunh. This is odd.
I'm depressed.
"You're neurotic, you're depressed-it doesn't mean that you are sad..."
Bull shit, I'm fucking sad. I almost cried when I saw that we were out of milk so I couldn't put it in my coffee...
...
But then again, that could just be from lack of caffinneeee. However the eff you spell that.

So, back to depression. I really think I am. I think I have finally cynicized (i think I might have just made up a word) and pessified (gasp! another!) myself into honest-to-god depression. And I don't think that I'm Ziggy or anything, because I do laugh and smile, it's just not...easy...anymore.

What kicked me in the ass and suggested that I share this (not-so) new idea with the world? Ultimate Blogs-masterworks from the wild web.
Yes. A book.
I suddenly had the urge to have the entire world read my every though! I mean, after talking (and coffee and dogs and rain and cancersticks), reading is my favorite thing to do! I could be published in a book! For essentially talking to myself!! Imagine the possibilities...
There are many problems with that.
Assuming that I was eloquent, which I am not, once one gets an audience of readers, they stop writing for themselves-they lose their personalities to form a new one in which they think people will like, judging by the amount of comments on the last X amount of entries...
Not to mention, I'm, like, ten, and who really wants to read about a little kid's life? Not me, that's for damn sure.
You know, as I was reading this awesome anthology (look it up on google, I'm too lazy and tired to ohmygodputinalink. so deal.), I realized that as much as I think I have a fair vocabulary, or that I can, you know, type correctly and with proper grammar, I really don't. I mean, for this tiny little town, yes, but I def. don't rank up there in the top billion in the world...
and i'm too fucking lazy to hit the spellcheck.
Oh well. Maybe someone will find this one day and think, "the crap attitude plus the crap writing is rather charming. Maybe I should mention this to one of my rich writer friends...Hmm, she also seems to like to sing...Maybe if she's such a shit writer, she'll be an even shittier singer! I can talk to my producer pal and we can make a fat, white, english version of william hung! We'll be rich(er than we are already)"
...
Or not.