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New Year

I celebrated the new year differently than I have in the past. I dunno. I was just ready to have fun this time.

I didn't believe I was gonna do much but my best friend, Mads, called me and said "So, I'm free today." I had been trying to see her all Winter Vacation but it wasn't happening for some reason.I finally got the chance on the 31st and, I have no idea why but, I wanted to make it significant.

That's when I suggested we have a small party. I guess the idea came to me because, until that point, I had pretty much been on lock down. Self-imposed, for the most part. But I wanted to milk this outing for all it was worth. So, we got permission from the parentals and it was okay.

We both agreed to dress up, put make up on, etc. I don't go out much so I enjoyed it a lot more than I should have. I had too much fun getting ready and took more time than I expected. I never really liked the term "Fashionably late." So, I didn't want it to be applied to myself.

Before I got to her house, I had to stop at the grocery store for my mom. It was strange and surreal grocery shopping w/ my heels and party gear. I was getting looks of bewilderment every time teetered to get my crappy cart on the right track. But I managed to pick up some sparkling apple cider just to ring in the New Year semi authentically. Unfortunately, Phillip couldn't be there so I had no one to kiss.

When I got to her house, she was all snuggly with her boyfriend and focused most of her attention but since she's my best friend and I predicted that, I made sure an invitation was extended to our other close friend, Bryton. Not that he didn't have any other reason to be there. Frankly, he just belonged there.

We watched Pulp Fiction to pass the time. Then we danced to Janet Jackson, during which I seductively danced on everyone in the manner of a stripper. And then midnight was here. More dancing and then getting dropped off at home.

Excellent time. Can't wait for next year. Especially since it'll be that much closer to my wedding day.

What a pretty day

It's really pretty.

I can't be locked in the house today. I refuse.

On another note, how could they ever see a resemblance?

And I know Iggy wants to go outside the gate but I can't let her do that. We're doing it in inches.

All in all. . .

It was a pretty good Christmas.

I wasn't as in the spirit as I usually am considering the disagreement between I and my parents but it was nice to spend it with Phillip and his family.

The Christmas week actually started with me catching the train to Fontana since it was Phillip's week out there, although I wish he would spend more time here in L.A. He's of age and the courts can no longer dictate which weekend is to be spent with which parent. But I can understand why he still does it. It's about routine and balance. Gotta keep it up, I guess.

Well, I went to Union Station, after getting "appropriate" permission from my mother, and took a 2 hour and 15 minute train ride (Nixon's idea?) where he was waiting for me. I was excited and did a silly run towards him then proceeded to talk a mile a minute about nothing in particular. Blame it on nervous excitement and the happiness of being with him again.

We spent the evening picking up last minute gifts and picking up his car from his best friend, Cinnamon. We finished by going to a party hosted by his friend, that he hadn't heard about but I had. Absurd.

The rest of the week was spent existing on the verge of non existence, as always. There was dinner at his dad's house on Tuesday, the day I payed it forward. Random acts of kindness = pleasure.

Last minute Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve. And then, Christmas spent at his dad's house, with his aunt and grandma. Delicious turkey dinner. It was actually better than Thanksgiving. He also taught me a song.

I love him, I do.

It's injustice!

They have no faith. None.

It's as if I'm totally incapable of not making the same mistakes you did. I'm totally incapable of not struggling through life as you did.

I'm inept. That's the type of daughter you raised.

One that's completely and utterly stupid.

So, you'll put your restrictions. And you'll make your assumptions. And you'll cast your judgments about the one I choose to spend the rest of my life with.

But in a matter of months, it won't matter.

And we might be over this or we might not. But I'll never forget this. The day you declared to me, your only child, that you have no faith in my intelligence or my rationality.

You have no faith.

AND, at this point, the rebellion continues.


You are The Empress

Beauty, happiness, pleasure, success, luxury, dissipation.

The Empress is associated with Venus, the feminine planet, so it represents,
beauty, charm, pleasure, luxury, and delight. You may be good at home
decorating, art or anything to do with making things beautiful.

The Empress is a creator, be it creation of life, of romance, of art or business. While the Magician is the primal spark, the idea made real, and the High Priestess is the one who gives the idea a form, the Empress is the womb where it gestates and grows till it is ready to be born. This is why her symbol is Venus, goddess of beautiful things as well as love. Even so, the Empress is more Demeter, goddess of abundance, then sensual Venus. She is the giver of Earthly gifts, yet at the same time, she can, in anger withhold, as Demeter did when her daughter, Persephone, was kidnapped. In fury and grief, she kept the Earth barren till her child was returned to her.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Interesting. . .

I've failed her

I hate to disappoint people and I think it's because of deep seated need to please everyone and be loved by all. It's moronic and I'm working on it.

I promised her something and then realized later that I wouldn't be able to fulfill my promise. In reaction to that, I can't stop sulking about everything. What makes it worse is that I can't get in contact with her to let her know I've let her down.

I know that I have no control over the situation.

I just really really really wanna take back that promise.

I'm tired.

She's still angry

I understand that I mess up. But grant it to me, yes?

I apologize for locking you out of the house for an hour. I really did think you were going to be gone until midnight. I swear, I heard that. It must have been really cold. I feel like an ass. I do. And I'm sorry. I am.

But, don't be so angry. Because It rubs off on me. That's what makes me angry. I feed off of your energy.

So, tonight, when you came home, you should have greeted me instead of not saying anything and yelling at me to do chores. That hurts.

I don't often screw up. And when I do, you always get over it quickly. Why not do that now?

I really am sorry. Even though you don't really know that.


Christmas carols are stuck in my head

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. . ." I think that Black Friday should also be termed The First Day of Christmas. KOST 103.5 is already playing the holiday songs and spreading the cheer deep into the night. Specifically, up to 3 a.m. which is when I turned off the radio and went to sleep.

I was up so late because Phillip showed up with roses in his hand, but not because he thought I was angry with him, just because he wanted to give me roses. How thoughtful. Pbbt! >.<

It started out good, then got bad as we conversed for an hour over why I was upset. Then there were long pauses in between "Do you like my new curtains? I picked them out myself. . . " and "Wanna go to Pizza Hut? They're open late. . ." Anything to help get over the fact that both of our feelings were unintentionally hurt. Bottom line: It was a lack of consideration for the other on both our parts. By the end of the night, things were alright again. But this time around, it took longer than usual considering "the end of the night" was 2 a.m.; hence, I went to bed at 3.

I'm not worried.

On another note, It's comical that my mother has no faith in me. When she calls and asks me to make a delivery to someone who's traveling up north (who is just a catalyst to get said delivery to someone else who will be traveling out of the country) she has to ask me about 10 times in a row to call and set it up. When I laugh, she says "You think this is funny, don't you?" When I reply in the affirmative, she says, "Well, it's not. I ask you all the time to do things for me and you never do. This is really important to me. . ." I zoned out at this point. That's probably part of the problem.

I can't help it if I'm a daydreamer not conscious of anything or anyone around me? Okay, I can. But I don't wanna at the moment. I've never had a bed of roses. During those moments where I know nothing, I am checked into a hotel, luxury suite, with that "bed" and am in no hurry to check out.

My friend Opal told me that whenever her father bitches at her about anything, she endures his wrath for a minute then says "You could have worn a condom," to which he promptly shuts up.

That is admirable.

UC applications deadline = tomorrow. Eeek!

I'm so angry

Don't call to say that you'll come and see me on the condition that you don't have to do any work. Do you know how that makes me feel? That makes me feel as if coming out here, to visit me, to spend mutually enjoyable time with me, would be doing me a favor.

I love you but it doesn't matter how much, I won't allow you to believe you are somehow superior, your time is somehow superior than mine own.

Why am I so angry? I should be happy to finally live in my own place. Well, almost my own. A little bit less than as much mine as my mother's. But I'm not happy. I'm less than a year away from being legal and I had to move again. This makes it the 8th time in my lifetime. How could anyone be happy at this point?

I think I'm resentful of all the changes and turmoil I've had to endure to get to adulthood. As previously stated, "adulthood" has recently become a reoccurring thought. Either way, I shouldn't resent just as I shouldn't regret. But I do. And I will continue to unless I do something about it.

I just keep moping and stewing and bugging. Everything is irritating. And it's all because I decided to take a look into the past and was so terrified of things I had already gotten over. There have been too many changes. More than the ordinary. I wish there was someone who knew, exactly, the "ordinary" amount of change a person needs. If there was someone like that, I 'd ask them to give it to me all in one sitting. That way, there'd be no more phases like this one. 

That'd be boring though. I'd rather have a tumultuous past than none at all. Maybe. I'll have to think about that.

I never thought I was one of these people but yesterday, my mom said "You want life to be perfect. And it's not. Because if it was, it'd be boring." Hence the above statement.

Yes, very cliche and very simple but insightful none the less. Kind of what I needed to chew on considering my attitude as of late.

I wish I could stop being angry and irritated.

I wish I could be happy that I've moved from that evil place with that evil lady who hated my dog.

I wish he hadn't called and acted like an ass.

I wish I had something good to read.

I should be sleeping

A little more than three hours ago, it was Thanksgiving. Now It's Black Friday, which my mom will certainly participate in, along with hundreds of other moms who swarm like honeybees to the nearest Mervyns and Best Buy.

When I came home from dinner with my surrogate family, in which right after eating I passed out on their couch for 2 hours, I found that my infuriating chihuahua Iggy had gotten into my bag of Hershey's chocolate. I was angry and then realized that chocolate is poisonous to dogs so, the anger gave way to worry. I'm watching her right now. I don't like the sounds her stomach is making.

I made this LiveJournal not really knowing what I'd do with it. I just know that I was inspired by a friend who had a sense of nostalgia so strong, that she remade hers. I wanted to join her club. I also like reading whatever she writes.

How insightful do I have to be when posting an entry? Because this writing down surface topics and thoughts is pretty cool. I'm a pretty open book that doesn't know when I should be closed. I dunno my boundaries. Maybe I'll find them on here.

I can hear my mother snoring. I like it.

Why am I hungry again?

I really love stuffing. And cranberry sauce. But mainly stuffing. And gravy. DIa de pavo. This is my last thanksgiving before I become an "adult." My first thought waking up. The last one before I go to bed?

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January 2009