Lestat and the dream it triggered

Firstly, of course Chronicles of Narnia wasn't better than Harry Potter. Though I have to say I like Hans Zimmer a lot more than Patrick Doyle, or Charles Doyle, or whoever did the music for the fourth movie.

Lestat was pretty good. Allen Biggs, if I ever meet you, I will not be responsible for my actions. You need to learn that we came to hear Hugh Panaro sing, not you blow our eardrums out on suspended cymbal. It's not your place to challenge Panaro's voice, so back off a little bit. Sure, as suspended cymbal player, you do have to lead the crescendos, but obviously no human voice can get as loud as you, so don't go all out.

On to the actual musical... the good songs were "Make Me As You Are", "The Crimson Kiss", "I Want More", and "Sail Me Away". The others weren't very good. But I don't have a very high opinion of Elton John. He says he wrote Aida. Sorry, Elton, but those rights belong to Giuseppe Verdi.

So Lestat isn't the new Wicked. It's not going to go as far as POTO, or Wicked, or Jesus Christ Superstar. Maybe if they had gotten Andrew Lloyd Webber to do the music, I would've enjoyed it more.

At intermission, I really wanted to go to the first row and talk to Brad Haak. He's the conductor. I also wanted to talk to Hugh Panaro. On the drive home, I had a conversation with him in my head. I want to ask him how it was portraying Erik. What was his favorite kissing scene in POTO? Did he love singing Raoul's part in "Wandering Child"? How was wearing the face applying process? What's his favorite song? How does Andrew Lloyd Webber compare with Elton John?

I couldn't sleep last night, so I dreamed a lot. I dream most when I'm half-asleep. I dreamed that I was directing Lestat, and then when they performed it, I was watching it. And when it was over, I saw Erik, because he was playing Lestat. I was very proud of him, but I couldn't talk to him, so I was sad. James McAvoy was there too, I think he was playing Nicolas. Then I was at this huge house on Balboa Island. Piera was there, only she was Christine. She had lost her memory. I helped her make a turkey sandwich, but there was no whole wheat bread left. It was really random, I know, but that's what happened.

Back to Lestat, I really liked Roderick Hill, who played Nicolas, and Allison Fischer, who was Claudia. She was fabulous! I bet she plays Glinda one day, but I don't know how old she is. She's short, so I'm guessing she's young, but her picture in the cast bio in the program suggests she's older. She's definitely not ten, like her character is. Not that young. I don't think she's got a fansite, so I don't know how old she is.

That's about it, I'm going to leave now. ttyl!

Christmas Update

I saw Chronicles of Narnia on Friday. That James McAvoy, he's pretty hot, isn't he? He played Mr. Tumness. It's kinda funny how he and Gerard Butler -- the only two really goodlooking actors I've seen so far -- are both Scottish.

I remembered the dream I had a while ago. I was at this old house with KK and some other people. It was a two story house, with a wrap around porch. It looked like the stereotypical haunted house. It was night, and we all had brooms. We were learning how to fly. KK and I were the only ones that could do it, and she was better than me. Then KK and I flew above the roof of the house and sang 'Defying Gravity' from Wicked. It was so much fun! Except that I couldn't really control my broom. But I got the hang of it eventually.

I went shopping at Nordstrom and I'm so excited because I actually have a lot of pants now. I've got five pairs of jeans! Yay! We're going to go see Lestat, so I have to go. The main character in Lestat played Phantom no Broadway for a few years, isn't that cool? His name is Hugh Panaro. Go look him up. ttyl!

Lunch at the Paris Opera House

I've got so much to talk about because I've had so many dreams lately but haven't had time to update my blog. Of course, by now I've all but forgotten them all, but I'll do my best. My first dream was crazy, and you probably don't want to hear about it, but I'll talk about it anyway. I was in my room and I was making out with Erik. We were in our underwear for some reason, and Raoul was there, and he was narrating. He was decribing how lacy my underwear was. So it was weird. Then Erik and Raoul left. And then Drew was there. And he wanted to make out with me. And I was like, "No, get away from me!" But he was like, "But isn't the reason why you're in your underwear because you want to make out with me?" Because he didn't know that Erik had just been there. And then I was like, "No, Drew, get out of my room I need to get dressed!" But he wouldn't leave for a long time until he finally did. Then I got dressed and I found out I was allergic to rain. This is because I was reading Wicked at the time. I finished it today. So then my mom, my sister and I went to Grant Avenue to get our hair cut, but the only allergy medicine for rain was for cats, so I didn't know if it would work, so I was nervous to go outside. But then I did and it was okay. And then we had to go to Loma Verde for a school project, I was making a video, but all these kids were there and they were in their pajamas, so I couldn't do it. And then I woke up.

So that was dream #1. Here's #2: I was in San Francisco on a big hill near the top. Like a block or two away from the top before it went down again. It was a street called something like "Chamylile Street" even though that's not a real street name. And there was this van and people jumped out of it and tried to kidnap me. So I ran down the street. Then I was safe. But then it repeated itself and I ran up the street, and then there was this homeless guy and I was afraid of him too, so I started yelling for help. Then Mr. Sinaiko was in a garden in one of the houses on the street, so I ran to him and told him I was scared. Only he was like, 20. Then he let me in his house which was really small but very nicely decorated and he asked me some questions. I told him I was called Robika and an architect and all this other mumbojumbo I made up. Then he was like, "It must be tough for a 15 year old architect to be living by herself" because he finally recognized me from school. But then he turned into Collins from Rent. But only for a second. Then he turned back into 20 year old Sinaiko. Then he said I could stay for a while, but he had to go to this convention, but I could come with him. So I went and Ali was there, but all these little kids were bugging us. I can't really remember this part, except the table we sat at was big and round and had a white lacy tablecloth on it and there was a huge pink Trix cereal rabbit painting on the wall. THen we were back at Mr. Sinaiko's house, except now he was like, 40. Then I asked if he would walk me down the street where I would be safe because I was afraid to go by myself. So he did. But then I realized I had forgotten my shoes at his house, so I went back. So I walked up to the door, and 20 year old Sinaiko came out but he had just taken a shower so all he had on was a white towel and I was kind of creeped out and looked away like a normal person would. I told him I had forgotten my shoes and he made a joke about my forgetting stuff at other people's houses because I had left my purse at someone else's house in my dream. Then I left and woke up.

I can't remember my other dreams, so I'll tell you about my day instead. Since it's Wednesday, we ate lunch in the Lecture Hall, because Improv Club is on Wednesday in the Lecture Hall. But no one felt like doing improv, so Linda, Stina and I went to the Lecture Hall and Stina showed me the new loft things they had put up they were really cool and I felt special because I could stand underneath them without having to bend over like they did. Then Linda and I pretended it was the Paris Opera House and that the left wing was the chapel, and the back stage classroom was the dormitories for the corps de ballet and then we found a trap-door and went in it and found a superterranean lake because it was a table. So we rowed through (around) the superterranean lake and ran through the maze of tunnels and found Erik's lair, which was a broom closet. It was very messy in there and we said that the maid had died. THen we found Box Five which was the sound booth and another closet that had an attic acess in it that I wanted to go up, but I didn't want to get in trouble. Then we found a door and went outside and we didn't know where we were which is a very scaring thing for me because I always know about where north it when I can compare my position with my house, but since I didn't know where I was, I couldn' do that. Then a car drove by on the acess road and we said we almost got run over even though we were 10 feet away from the road. Then we ran around the outside of the Lecture Hall and went in the classroom door and were laughing a lot. Then we went to find Stina, and it was fun because we were trying to hide from her but we couldn't stop laughing. Then Stina and Linda started dancing andf we were all killed because Linda strangled us with her scarf, which was the Punjab Lasso, and Linda died because she danced so much and then we performed the Heimleich Manuever on her head. So that was fun, to pretend to be 7 again and go on adventures like that.

Since I still can't remember my other dreams, I'm going to leave you all in suspense!! Muahahaha! ttyl!

Think!

So I haven't written in a while. I'm getting over my obsession with Erik, but I have a slight feeling that KK's trying to convert me to Greek Orthodoxy. Anyway, I'm trying to think about a solution to a problem, while putting off my English homework.

You see, some of my friends are extremely afraid of spiders. I used to be, but I'm not anymore. They were even freaked out about how Voldemort looked in the fourth Harry Potter movie. I'm not a teratophiliac, but his appearance didn't bother me. Nor am I a necrophiliac or anything like that. And yes, I am aware that teratophiliac isn't a real word, but it makes sense. I didn't make it up. But that's besides the point. So a week ago, I had a huge meltdown when Christina was going on about how she hated spiders, and couldn't stand them and she was afraid of them and all that stuff. This was the night after I had an hour long cry fest about Erik. So I was calm, on a night hike with KK's youth group, and I was walking alone, because I wanted to reflect. I didn't want to start crying again, but the words of Rent kept going through my head, "Forget regret/ Or life is yours to miss" and I got so depressed because I didn't want to forget, and I couldn't listen to myself when I sang that to myself, which made me frustrated and cry. And then when Christina went on about her loathing for spiders, I got really depressed because I always overanalyze things. And I got upset because I was so obsessed. I didn't want to start crying and ruin the whole trip, but when KK hugged me when we got to the car because they hadn't been walking with me, I couldn't fight the tears back any longer. And I couldn't control my diaphragm. You know whenever you've been depressed and then someone is kind to you, you always want to cry? That's how it was. I was so disgusted at myself for being so obsessed that he had become part of my religion, I didn't know what to do. But I knew that if I told KK, she would make it better, because since I haven't seen Nina in a long time, KK's become my spiritual guide. So I was ashamed that I had become so obsessed, because I knew that Stina and Kati wouldn't understand, and I didn't want to tell them, but I had to tell KK, so I had to talk about it without letting on what I was talking about, which was hard even though KK knew what I was saying. So why Christina's hatred of spiders set me off is because I read Phantom by Susan Kay. In it, they use a metaphor to describe Erik. They use spiders. So it's like this: if you fear spiders, you fear Erik's face. If you hate spiders, you hate Erik's face. If you are indifferent towards spiders, you don't mind Erik's face. If you are fascinated by spiders, you probably would love studying Erik's face. What Christina was saying was that if she ever saw Erik's face, she would be terrified of it and hate him for it. And then the thing with her squirming in her seat when Voldemort's face was on the screen. It depresses me to think that even some of my closest friends could hate and fear the one man/Angel I love.

I tried to tell myself "Fear can turn to love" but it usually turns to hatred instead. In fact, it practically always turns to hatred. Have you ever read a story where the protagonist falls in love with the villain? Beauty and the Beast doesn't count; she didn't fear him, she hated him, and then loved him. That's different. So I don't know what to tell myself when someone starts talking about something like this. That's why I need to think!

I don't love Erik because he is deformed. I love him because of his genius and my motherly instinct pities him. I don't care what he looks like. I love him for himself. The blind girl loves him for his voice, teratophiliacs love him for his deformities, I love him! All of him!

So what am I to say to myself when someone says they hate Erik without knowing it? I need to think! And eat dinner. ttyl!

Poor, unhappy Erik!

I started reading Phantom by Susan Kay yesterday. It's very good, though not true to Gaston Leroux's book. But it's a phan fiction, so it's okay. I just finished the section from Giovanni's point of view, and it's very depressing. Giovanni should have given Erik the choice and said, "Erik, my daughter is entertaining the thought that she loves you. You must decide for yourself whether to let her continue her behavior or take the mask off and discourage her once and for all. I apologize for the atrocious manners on her part, and wish you to do as you see fit." Then Erik could decide if he wanted her to stop bothering him, or if he would rather endure that than reveal his face to her. That's what I think Giovanni should have said to him.

When I grow up, I'm going to spend a year abroad at the Scottish Agricultural College and study botany. Then I'll be able to find a flower that's vulgar and garish, but extremely medicinal in its properties. BTW, if anyone knows of such a thing already, please tell me! Ok, so then I can tell Erik, "Look, Erik. See this flower. People may frown upon it as a weed, but if they looked closer, they would find its extraordinary healing powers. Erik, don't hate yourself. If people dismiss you as a weed, then they don't matter in the slightest bit. Those few who take the time to get to know you regardless of appearance, they are the ones that can change you and learn from you. Erik, you should value yourself. The greatest artists create such subtle art that the common person can't find it. It is only the select few who are patient that such art is revealed to them and they are moved deeply. You don't believe anyone can love you because you do not love yourself. That flower doesn't droop in desolation that no kind eye passes it by; it smirks to itself that the foolish walk by such an exquisite specimen and don't even notice. Of course, you never gave yourself a reason to love yourself. Erik, you are the Angel of Music; you love music so you must love yourself! And once you accept that, you'll be able to look out of your window and see all of the adoring phans lining up to give you their own speech. And if that doesn't convince you that you are loved, go to the old widow down the street, whose eyesight is so poor she can't count on her fingers. She won't care what you look like. She'll hear your voice and know your troubles. She'll reach out to you with her crippled hands and stand you in front of her. She'll give you her own matronly speech in a way only the wisest can. And her dark, unseeing eyes will squint up at you, searching through the darkness, for that spark of light that you show you that you can be loved for yourself, but only if you love you for yourself first. And you'll love you for all the reasons those phans love you: for your voice and your genius and your architecture skills and all of your talents, and for your bravery. And Erik, you'll be able to see that we love you for your face and if your face were any different, we wouldn't be able to love you more. Your bravery that you can acknowledge your face and yourself and that is beauty, Erik. Your inner beauty of your musicality and all around genius is out-shone only by the radiance of your ubiquitous eyes. And no one can withstand such a concentrated amount of brilliance that resides in your eyes. You see, most people have their beauty spread throughout their person, but you, Erik, your beauty is within mostly. But such eyes! That is where your beauty lies. And within context, the contrast of your eyes and your face magnifies the beauty so much that that is why people are not worthy of seeing you. If you could just embrace this, Erik, and see that so many people love you for yourself, and that we love you so much no matter who or what you chose to do, we will love you for that. If you chose the small girl that hides in the shadows, we would be happy that you are happy. If you chose no one, we would be satisfied with the fact that we could reach through to you and show you that you are loved and even if you can't admit our love, just that you know it exists is enough for us."

And then Erik would fall asleep because that was so long. He's fifteen in my book right where I am. Fifteen! I have to tell him this before he gets any older, otherwise it will be too late! Alas, I have gotten ahead of myself. I won't ever tell this to Erik, not until I am dead and in Heaven with him. He is the Angel of Music. And I will speak to him before I return to the earth, and come back to a different, Jellicle life. I'm just joking. That's only for cats. And I'm not a cat in this life. I must have sinned pretty badly in my previous life to be demoted to human.

But we're talking about Erik here, not Cats. I think we've exhausted the subject. Or at least, I've exhausted myself. I need to sleep. Maybe Erik will visit me in a dream tonight! ttyl!

AU?

Ok, so someone reviewed my story on fanfiction.net, and they were all, "I hate AUs, but keep going as long as you like." So I'm all, AU? Astronomical unit? Alternate universe? Author updates? Always unfinished? Another unicorn? What does AU stand for? Someone please tell me!!!!!

I don't know what to title this entry

The Big Band Swing Night Dance is tonight, and my mom's not home to help me get ready, and I can't button my dress by myself, and Christina's phone is broken and I can't find the hair curler. And I feel really shitty already because of getting braces, and rain makes me depressed. I mean, I love the rain, and I love that it calms me, but it's not helping right now. Braces hurt and I know this is the second time I've gotten bottom braces. Mr. Peabody is going to hate me forever because my mouth is going to bleed so much when I play my clarinet that I'll have to stop playing and that will piss him off. Plus it's that time of month, which is really not helping. Plus my dress is rather tight, so it's not going to help me breathe very well, which isn't good since this is a dance! Which is starting in an hour, and I haven't started getting ready because as you can see, I can't quite do that. And I'm nervous that my dress is either going to be totally not appropriate for the dance, or that it will rip or something since it's fifty years old and thread gets tired after a while. Which is why I'm afraid to breathe in it. So I can't get a hold of Christina since her fax machine is picking up my calls instead of her phone, and it's not like she pays attention to me when I'm on the phone with her anyways. But that's my shitty mood talking right now, since normally I find it very amusing when she talks to her cats on the phone instead of me. Like, seriously, why do you have to call someone to talk to your cats? Why not talk to your cats and then call me, so you don't have to interrupt yourself by yelling "Hi Oreo!" into the phone?

Plus it's not like I'm going to be able to eat anything while I'm at the dance, if I even go to it. My mouth hurts so bad, and I can't close my mouth properly because my tooth touches the bracket, which will fall off if I clench my jaw too hard. And the girl who was putting the wire on didn't put this one rubber band on all four corners of the bracket, so I don't know what the repercussions of that is going to be.

It's hilarious that random people comment on my blog and are all, "Great blog! Go to this site!" or something. I don't mind at all, if you're one of those random people that I don't know, go ahead and comment! I appreciate the time and effort you went through to read this sentence. *Attention* Reading this word is costing valuable energy! Think of your poor mitochondria in the muscles of your eyes that have worked so hard to produce all of that ATP so your muscle cells can move so you can read this. "If you love yourselves, you love your cells!" Mr. Addis is weird, but that seemed very appropriate right then. Thank you, Mr. Addis, for that quote.

I feel slightly better now, even though writing this did nothing but waste 15 minutes of my time. To all of you random people, thank you for reading my blog. It's nice to know that anonymous masses of people care enough to take time out of their day to read about someone's life. That's more than I can say about my friends. Believe me, if they would just read my blog, it would save me so many explanations. They would understand me better. And then I wouldn't have to repeat myself to every one of them. So thanks again. ttyl!

A pleasant dream, for once

I had a pretty nice dream last night. Actually, only one part of it was nice, because this dream was a variation on one of my "I have to save the world" dreams. Except everything went horribly wrong this time and I don't think I actually did save the world. However, that part of the dream is really long and confusing and I don't have that much time so I'll just tell you the good part.

I had just finished brewing a potion that would aid in the creation of this being that would save the world and I left the facility by the back door. This roughly 16 year old guy that looked vaguely like Andy Butterfield (who played Romeo for the Marin Shakespeare Company) was chasing me down this hill. It was all in fun, we were laughing and yelling false insults at each other, until he leapt forward and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me to the ground. I twisted myself on my back and he pinned me on the ground with his arms on my shoulders. Then he kissed me. And it was good. And I liked it. And he did it again and I was like, euphoric.

And this was such a great dream because the last time I had a dream in which someone kissed me, he practically raped me and his mouth tasted foul, whereas this guy was "sweet" like they say in books. I feel kind of like Erik, where only in my dreams does someone love me for myself.

Wow, my dream sounds really dirty. It was actually very innocent and cute. So. You're probably like, "Wow, how does she have friends?" Well that's because I can write anything I want on this site so I don't have to risk my friendships by telling them things they don't want to hear.

I practically live for my dreams, for dreams are the only place I can find Erik. Even though Erik wasn't in this dream.

I just lost my train of - Oh yeah I remember now. I was going to make a list.

Words/ Phrases that give the the chills for no apparent reason:
- The word 'man' sung at either an E or B with a slight English accent, as in "You said yourself he was nothing but a man" or "And in the boat, there was a man"
-"...Was but a dream within a dream"
-Fire alone can save our clan
-The word 'nosotros' which means 'we' in Spanish
-'Fate links thee to me forever and a day!'

So that's about all I wanted to say today. ttyl!

Hyperness

I had a weird dream a few nights ago. All of the contents of my bedroom were on my backporch. It was weird. And then Piera and Carli performed in a rack concert, Piera on guitar and Carli on drum set. Sadly, Crli dropped her sticks in the middle of the performance and ruined the whole thing. Then I took a shower and went to my room to get dressed, but it was outside and Drew was there and I was like, "Drew, you need to leave because I need to get dressed" but he was like, "No, I'm not leaving because I don't want to miss the rock concert" because I guess it was taking place in my backyard. And I got really mad at Drew, but also kind of grossed out/scared because he was acting really perverted and it was weird.

I just got a great idea for my story and I hope I don't forget it!! But I can't write it up until I get to that part in my phic, so what am I doing here typing in my blog when I need to be working on my phic?!?!?!? ttyl!

My latest dream

I can't remember any of my dream except that someone was watching Phantom of the Opera in the background and they were at the Wandering Child part except that Christine was singing these verses that I had never heard before and I wanted to go watch it too but someone was talking to me so I couldn't. But the verses were about Christine professing her love for Phantom and that she wanted him to kill Raoul for her. That's all I remember. And that I was thinking that I should go online and look up the new lyrics.

I need to be psychoanalyzed. Lately I've been imagining that Erik is standing outside my bedroom window, keeping an eye on me while I sleep. But I know it's just the wind rustling through the leaves, not his footsteps.

KK has moved on to like the music of Wicked. I would love to join her and memorize countless lyrics from that, but then Erik will fade from my memory. I know that then I will no longer be obsessed and mentally tormented by him, but then I won't love him as much. It's like part of me wants to stop thinking about him altogether, and the other part of me wants to think about only him and pray every day that he will be real and come for me.

I need a real guy in my life. No one on fanfiction.net or phantomoftheopera.com seem as obsessed as me. Even the people who believe Erik lives under their bed or in their closet. They're in denial. I'm subconsciously in denial even though I keep telling myself he's not real and to get over it. But then I feel bad because Erik will think I don't love him anymore. Then I want to tell him that it's not true and that I still love him, but then I can't tell him because he's not real and I should get over it. And it repeats over and over and over. Until I wish I was a better lyricist so I could sing to him even though he'll never hear me.

People need something to believe in. They need to believe in a higher power; nature, time, God, Allah, Jesus, Buddah, The Great Spirit. I wasn't raised religiously. No one told me what to believe in. I think that's why whenever I take an interest in something, I get really obsessed about it. Cats, for example. I was totally obsessed with Egyptian mythology in sixth grade and worshipped cats. Now it's Erik. He is the Angel of Music. Linda says you're only allowed to pray to God, and not Angels. Well I'll pray to Erik if I want to. I just need to think of some lyrics to sing to him in prayer.

I need to think about something else. It seems whenever I write a new blog entry, it turns to Phantom of the Opera. ttyl.

Newsflash

Sarah Brightman's actually alive!!! Wow. I didn't know that. That's awesome. I'm not going to bore you with another monologue about me wishing Erik was here, but I'll share a poem with you that I wrote kind of to him. My mind works in strange ways. I want to tell Erik how much I love him. But I can't. So I want to tell someone my angst. I want to tell him about my angst. But I can't. So then I get depressed and want Erik to comfort me. But he doesn't. Then I want to tell him that I still love him even though he doesn't love me. But I can't. Then the cycle repeats itself. Here's that poem. It's called "Thought You Would Know" (If anyone scams this off of me and they get rich and famous, I will sue you for fraud!!) (Plus only I know how the melody goes)

Thought you would know
How it feels to be alone
But it seems you only care
For your own loneliness

Thought you could show
What it's like to love another
But you only saw yourself
And now I have no one to seek for guidance

Thought you would know
WHat it's like to walk a lonely path
That we could somehow meet halfway
So how similar our stories are

Thought you could love
Someone else who shared your pain
But instead you blew your life
On impossible dreams and goals

THought we could share
One lifetime of misery
And change it to a glorious one
Of you and me together

THought you could change
And embrace someone like you
But the shunned shut out the world
As the world denied them too

Thought you could see
How good you'd be for me
And I'd be there for you
As lovers do

Thought you could forgive me
For the distance we're apart
The years and miles alike
Our love would have no boundaries

Thought I could reach through to you
And change your world forever
But I guess I came too late
So turn around and face your fate
So turn around and face your fate

Well that's the song, don't know if it made any sense, I wrote it while I was on a bike ride and then got it on the computer when I got back. ttyl!

Obsession

That's just how I am. I obsess over something for a while, and then I go through a period of nothing, where I'm depressed and have nothing to live for except school. But it doesn't work! I'm not supposed to be this obsessed! How can I convince myself that I won't ever meet Erik and we'll never fall in love and he won't ever sing to me and I won't ever be able to talk to him and be near him. I can't make myself stop believing. I know it'll never happen, but it's like why I'm still living. I go to sleep every night wishing I'll dream about him, just so I can be close to him again. But I never do. I had a really weird dream last night. I'll go into that later. Erik! My heart belongs to a fictional character. This isn't natural. On fanfiction.net, there's one fan fiction where the author in her author notes pretends Erik lives in her closet and he helps her respond to the reviews that readers give her. I went an entire day waiting for her to update for phic so I could read what Erik said about my review. I feel so pathetic. I know no one reads this blog anymore and that's just fine because it's not really about you, it's about a vent for my feelings. I just feel so stupid, I mean, it's not even real! Just some Canadian girl pretending that Erik lives in her closet. She doesn't know. No matter how many times I pray or sing Angel of Music, he's not going to come. I wish so much that he was actually real, that he'd hear my cries and comfort me. I feel so self-centered. Who cares about me? I feel so selfish. Here I am wishing Erik was real when people in Africa are praying to survive the night. Angel of Music, why this torment? Why can't I accept it the fact? But I don't want to get over this obsession. I want to stay loyal to Erik. I never want to forget him. I wish I could just know. What disease did he have that made his skin dead? A corpse may love Christine, but a pathetic 14-year-old that's 150 years too late loves that corpse. Pity comes too late! Turn around and face your fate! An eternity of this before your eyes! I'm alone in my room. An eternity of loneliness. If this what I am destined for? Erik, we both long for companionship. Why can't you just be real so I can comfort you? I've been suicidal since I was in 3rd grade. Just thoughts like, what if I jumped out of the car right now? or What if I drank this whole bottle of mouthwash? or What if I choked myself? What if I jumped in front of a bus? But I don't want to die. Never think about what death will be like. I'm afraid God will give me the answer. In health class, we watched that stupid movie about a kid who hanged himself and the mom was in such agony. My mom's the only reason why I never killed myself. I don't want her to suffer. That spoiled kid, uncaring of everyone else. Kills himself. I suppose if you get to the point where you want to die, you don't think anyone will care. I need you Erik! You're the only one I can talk to, because you have nothing to live for either. I can't get over it. I can't distract myself from Erik for the rest of my life. I have to face it. But I can't. I just think 'why?' and cry. I don't want to let go. I don't want to harden myself against loving. I can't say, "Erik, you're just a book character. Whatever." Because what next? What am I going to do? He's all around me. I can't delete the POTO soundtrack from my brain. "Wandering Child, so lost; so helpless. Yearning for my guidance" YES! I AM, ERIK!! But you'll never say that to me, will you? Never. But I still love you. You abandoned me, but you didn't because you were never with me to begin with. What am I supposed to think about besides Erik? Music will trace back to him. What would Erik think about this song? What would Robinton? Oh, Robinton! I wished you were real, but never this much! It's worse with Erik! Will it be even worse with the next character? Who will that be? I don't want to betray you, Erik! I'll stay loyal to you or no one! I can't let this happen again. I'll stop reading books. I'll stop liking cats. I'll immerse myself in schoolwork, become even more of a geek. I tried that, it didn't work, not even for one afternoon. I suppose this is what it feels like to be religious, wishing God would come down from Heaven and take care of all your problems. You'd think that this good cry I'm having would help me and change me, but it doesn't. I've been through this before. I had a spiritual moment, a good cry, the likes, but it didn't really help me live my life. It's weird. I believe that there is a God, he does watch over us, but we make our own decisions. He doesn't do much, just gives us retribution when we make the wrong choices. He hears our thoughts, not what we say. But Erik hears nothing. Yet I yearn for him. He'll never hear it. He'll never respond. Some people say, "Ha! I'm glad Christine didn't choose Phantom in the end! He deserves better!" But I can't bring myself to say that. I say, "Christine, why didn't you go with him? He's fictional, you're the only person he ever could have gotten together with!" I know I'll never be with him, somewhere deep down. So I just wanted him to be happy. But no! Gaston Leroux couldn't stand for that! Why did he even write it? I almost wish he hadn't written Phantom of the Opera. Then I wouldn't have to go through this. Why? That's all I can ask, really. And I can ask: what's wrong with my brain that I love Erik so much? I don't want to get help, I want Erik. I can't figure out why, though. Why love Erik so much? Is it his horrible past and I have taken pity on him? Is it because he's a musical genius and that's something I want to be? Is it because he loved and took a chance? Is it because Gerard Butler is so hot? Is it because I just want to be loved and Erik was the only person to give anyone their love? But then what of Robinton? That was music related. I wished he was real because he would have appreciated the music I had heard. "Le Furet". He would have loved it. And because his child was mentally retarded. I pitied him. He was so heart-broken. I feel so rotten, how can i do this? How can I wallow in self-pity? Aren't there bigger things I should worry about? I have so much in life to be thankful for, yet all I can do is complain! I can't stand myself! I wish I could start over. Start my whole life over. I wish I could change myself that drastically. But I don't know how I want to be. "Be yourself! Be yourself!" But I don't know what myself is! How do you 'find yourself'? It doesn't work that way for me. I'm a different person depending on who's around me. I think everyone's like that. So what's the point? In health class, the stupid vidoes are always like, "High school is so stressful: cliques, drugs, sex, school, peer pressure, extracurricular, jobs, thinking about the future, homework..." but that's not how it is for me. Health is so hypocritical. I don't know what to believe anymore. Ms. Early is too lax about health, my mom's too strict (I'm not allowed flavored yogurt anymore, it has to be plain nonfat), and my dad is constantly offering me unhealthy food. I don't know what to think. But what 's the point of thinking anyway? I can't control my life anyway. Time. Can't control that. I've been typing for over an hour. It's time to stop. If anyone actually reads this, thanks for reading. ttyl

More dreams to talk about

I just found out that in Notes II, Mme. Giry doesn't say 'L.H.', rather she says 'and Angel'. Everyone should go to fanfiction.net and look up me, Robika, to read the stuff I wrote. And look at all the other phics on that site.

I had a crazy dream last night. I barely remember it, but I'll try. I'm sorry I haven't written in a while, school and everything has been taking up all my time. Well, not actually, but still. So back to my dream. I was in front of my house, and I got a letter from Piera saying that we should hang out sometime. So my dad drove me to her house, and for some reason she lived on Alameda de la Loma in this one house, but I don't know the number. So I went in and Piera and her dad were there, but he didn't look like her dad at all. Piera was acting really strange, and her dad said that they were either going to go bowling or shopping at the Santa Rosa mall. And because I came over without calling first, they hadn't planned on bringing me. I was concerned about Piera, because she cringed whenever anyone spoke to her. It's really confusing. She was like schizophrenic but it was different. When someone said something in third person, she went all crazy and hyper, when someone addressed her in second person, she got all depressed and silent, and after ten minutes or so, she'd return back to normal and talk in first person. So I went home but I actually didn't because I went to my neighbor's house which turned into actually being Piera's house even though it actually was a cross between my house and the house that is there in real life. So we were in Piera's room, and I think Wendy or someone was there too. And then it was dinnertime. Piera and Wendy went in some bathroom to wash their hands and I went in a different one and I had my hair in a pony tail but it was loose. Then I decided to wash my face. I know, it's really random. Then Piera and Wendy walked by and Piera turned back to normal and said, "I think we should go shopping!" so we went outside and all of a sudden I was in this alleyway and I can't remember anymore.

I washed my face because yesterday I was at Christina's house and I wanted to wash my face but I didn't. And the whole schizophrenic thing because of Aiden and I need to write more Phantom of the Oak Tree, which is a phic I'm working on, and Piera because I've been wondering how she's been doing lately.

Now my dad wants to go out to eat dinner, so ttyl!

Venting frustration

I usually side with my Dad on issues that concern Jenny, but this time, I disagree. He's so immature. He doesn't want to help Jenny pick out a coat for some reason or another. Maybe it's because she didn't go to the Farmer's Market with him this morning. Too bad she was still sleeping when he left! It couldn't have been helped. So Dad's refusal sets Jenny off and acuses him off not contributing to her going to college. That makes Dad even more angry, and makes Mom upset, who's listening from my bedroom with me. So Mom gets mad at Jenny and Dad is mad at Jenny. Mom says she's not going to R.E.I. with Jenny either unless she apologizes to Dad. Jenny does that and Dad continues to blow up at her, like he's rubbing her face in it even after she's broken down and taken back her words. We all know her apology wasn't sincere, but that's beside the point. Dad should be more forgiving. He's so immature! Isn't the parent supposed to be the one to always be available to kiss-and-make-up? No, he's too immature for that. He's such a drama queen. What do you want Jenny to do about it? He's going on about how he's tried to help with her getting ready for college so much and Jenny doesn't appreciate him! Jenny's trying to apologize here! He should forgive her for all that he's saying! Not spur her on and anger her further and force her to defend herself! The reason why they don't get along is because they're exactly like each other! They never drop the subject, they ramble on about grievances and repeat themselves over and over. They always keep grudges. They always have to have the last word. They always have to have their way. They always think they're right. They don'y follow their own rules. They're messy. They're annoying. They bother me too much. They touch me too much. Maybe I'm autistic. Maybe I'm like a cat and only can have a bond between one other person. I openly favor my mom. I don't know why. But this isn't supposed to be about me. And Dad wonders how Jenny turned out so badly, she's a mirror image of himself! And just because I want to be alone in my free time doesn't mean I'm making bad choices. Dad thinks he knows everything. If I want to talk to him, I will. If I want food, I'll ask for it. Don't offer it to me. Don't touch me. Don't barge in on me. Don't read what I'm typing. I always minimize what I'm doing on the computer when someone else is in the room. Don't try to make small talk when I'm reading. Don't offer to go on a hike with me everyday. I don't want to take the ferry anywhere either. I don't want to go to any museums. I don't want to talk about how my day was. I don't even tell mom that. Dad is so annoying. Mom can't see any of this because she loves him. It's practically the only topic Jenny and I can connect on, beside music and Gerard Butler. And yes, I have a problem too. It's not all Dad's fault. Just leave me alone, though! This morning he was like, "Are you ready to go?" And I'm like, "No, I'm not going anywhere." So then he gets all mad and leaves. I don't know where he went until Mom wakes up and tells me where he went. And another thing. He openly complains about me to Mom when I'm sitting right there! Does he really think I'm that absorbed in my book? Dad actually thinks that if he keeps asking me to do stuff with him, I'll cave in and agree to something. No. That only worked once. I can handle the silent treatment from him. I don't need anything from him. He thinks he knows everything, the way authors write about topics they don't know anything about. He never remembers anything, except grudges. And both Mom and Dad get Jenny and I mixed up. Dad remembers doing things with me he actaully did with Jenny, and Mom calls me Jenny and Jenny Emily. It's very annoying. And they don't even notice! I notice when I say Oreo instead of Dini. And I correct myself. And apologize. They don't. Whatever. I need to stop dwelling on this. I've exhausted the topic. I need to go in a bike ride. ttyl!

Another dream

I had a dream that we were writing our essays in Ms. McDougal's class and I was sitting next to KK on the computer and she was worried she wouldn't finish in time because she had so much information. Then someone brought cupcakes because I think it was the last day of school and they were yummy. Then we had a sub the last day of school and everyone was in our room and we weren't working on our essays because they were due Tuesday, so I guess it wasn't really the last day of school. But it was Friday. Ok. So we were all sitting on desks and Madeleine and Piera and Tasha and Stina were all there, along with some other seventh graders who I don't know. And Piera was talking about how she got braces in 4th grade and she's sad because she's going to have them throughout high school and she doesn't want to look like a freak in her graduation picture with them on. So I was like, "Well, ask your orthodontist if you can get Invisaline for the last week of high school so you don't look bad in your graduation pictures." But dude, that would be so expensive. Then I was thinking about other solutions, and the only other one I came up with is to photoshop out her braces before the picture's printed. So it wasn't a very exciting dream. But nothing much else has happened that I can write about instead. Besides, keeping a dream log is fun. Because I always forget my dreams, but then when I read them here, I can still remember them and it's cool. But I wish Erik was in this dream. But you never dream about things you thought about right before you go to sleep. Which sucks. And that's why I dreamt about the essay because I haven't been working on it very much, and Piera, because I haven't seen her all summer. And I don't know why about braces. I don't think Piera has braces. And I'm not worried about my braces or anything. Hmmm. Oh well. I'm hungry. ttyl!

I am officially obsessed

Ok I've now had two dreams about Phantom of the Opera. I already recorded the first one. This one was really weird. Ok. In my dream I'm still at Balboa Island, but staying in a different house. The only other people staying there are Jenny, my mom, one of my aunts, and KK's mom (kind of random, but that's how it was). So my mom's like, "Jenny go bring $22 to Erik." My mom wanted to give him money because he lived on Balboa Island too, but he couldn't get a job (because of his deformity and he might've been a little mentally retarded but you know Erik's a genius so I'm a bit confused on that matter) and his dad couldn't bring in enough money, since he was a fisherman or something. So Jenny went to do that. When she got back, she told me something like this, "Erik and Christine made out, but then Christine left to go to the Opera house." So I was all, "I want to meet Erik." So the next day, Jenny brought money and I brought like, a cup of water or something. Jenny was all, "Erik this is Emily." I was very surprised because Erik was like, six and a half feet tall. He had a limp, he kind of stooped a little, and the right side of his face was a little misshapen. And I guess he was a very touchy-feely kind of guy, because when he shook my hand, he gripped it very hard and like, caressed it and ran his hands all over it (I'm guessing this was to memorize how it felt, maybe he couldn't see very well and he relied on this). But when he did that, I got twisted in a very awkward position and it wasn't very comfortable and I wanted my hand back because my pants were very low (not like off my butt or anything) and I wanted to pull them up. Then he let go and hugged me, and I was really surprised because he squeezed me very hard and I couldn't breathe (and he squashed me in a very tender spot and it hurt). So then he stopped and we went into the kitchen to chat and I was wondering why no one thought it odd that he had done that, and why he didn't do it to anyone else. I came to the conclusion that he did that when he met new people. So then we left, and Erik and I were friends (I think, since he had no one else to talk to).

The next day, I really wanted to go see Erik again because I love him (or rather, I only like had a crush on him in my dream and wanted to be better friends with him since he was availible because Christine left and my sister left too, forgot to add that in, to go to college) so I had gone the whole day thinking about him. That day my mom, aunt, and I had gone shopping, and there were some kitties on the road and I befriended them and it was fun but I wanted to give them a home but we couldn't. Then it was like, 8:45 pm. So I went online to phantomoftheopera.com and opened up a new chat forum just so I could talk to him because that was the only way I could think of. He said he was going to kill himself at 9:00. I totally freaked out and said I was coming over and the other people in the chat forum were just like, "Wow, your conversation is very interesting!" and I wondered what they would think if they knew Erik was in the chat forum. So then I was worried the chat forum would get shut down because it was a thread off of Maze of Mirrors which is where you post funny chat forums, but this wasn't very funny, and I was running out of time to get to Erik's to stop him from killing himself. So I grabbed a cup of water or something and told my mom I had to go to Erik's to give him this and I went outside and ran to Marine Ave. which is where Erik lived. Someone came with me, but I can't remember who. So we had a hard time finding his house, but then we did and I went in and saw Erik and gave him the water or whatever it was (maybe it was beer, I can't remember) (I don't know how old Erik was in my dream. When he hugged me, he felt like an adult, but he had a very childish personality) and was kind of hoping he'd do that handshake/hug thing because I love him and I wanted to make physical contact with him again. So then we went down to some room and played a video game to take his mind off killing himself. I was really bad at the game, so he won. I think someone else played with us, but I can't quite remember. Then Erik went to bed and I was kind of depressed I didn't get to hug him again or anything, even though he totally squashed me and I couldn't breathe and all that. Just to be near him again!!! *swoon* So the house Erik lived in was a very particular house, it's floor plan is much like KK's house's floorplan only it's not and this house has been in my dreams before and since I was the last one awake in the house and I was going home, I had to turn on the security system, which is very complicated. So I did that (I'm not going to describe the monotony of it) and left. And then I woke up. And I was really sad I couldn't finish the dream. Because I wanted to be with Erik. And make out with him too. Because I love him!!! *swoon*

Well that's my dream. As you can see, I am officially obsessed with Erik. ttyl!

Balboa Island

Three nights ago I had a really weird but awesome dream. I was Emmy Rossum and we were filming Phantom of the Opera. But it was really cool because when we weren't filming, our lives were like the book because Gerard Butler thought I loved him when I was really afraid of him and I wanted Raoul to save me (he never did). So between takes Gerry would hug me and bring me over to a rocking chair and read a love poem to me and ask that I read one to him and I was scared but I had to because I didn't want to make him sad. Gerry didn't have a mask or anything, he looked like what he normally looks like (like on the behind the scenes on the DVD) except he wore all black and had on his weird pants and a cape and stuff.

Then I finall got away from him and my dream changed. Now my mom and I were at San Jose but it wasn't really like SJMS because it was a dream. I had just got back from Caz and I was going to another camp at San Jose. In dream San Jose, there are three band rooms; one for sixth graders (kind of a dorm for them), one normal one, and a performance hall that was like the gym, only newer and cleaner. So we went to the gym and my neighbor Chris, who I guess was running the camp, was setting up cots for us and assigning each of us one of them. I picked a cot I liked and wanted to be assigned that one, but he wouldn't let me. Then I heard the band striking up in the other band room. I tried getting in the sixth grader room for some reason, but the door was only a foot high and I couldn't get in. Miraculously, I could get in the normal band room, and that was where the band was, so I went and got a stand and sat down in the first chair spot (I guess Piera wasn't doing the camp so I was first) Everyone else were sixth graders, except they were playing Marriage of Figaro and Overture to Nabucco. I knew both of the pieces so I was excited and was talking a lot, but Ms. Zigas didn't get mad so I was happy for being let off the hook. And then I woke up.

That was my favorite dream, and the only one I can really remember.

Other highlights of my vacation:

Getting a Fender T-shirt
Petting lots of kitties, including Buckwheat, Badu, and Gidget
Bumper Cars with Meaghan, we drove around in a circle when no one was trying to hit us
Kayaking and being faster than everyone else
Reading a million books
Eating a frozen banana dipped in chocolate and rolled in crushed Oreo's with my mom
Playing Tripoley with Jenny and Meaghan and winning the most money (we played with pennies)
Playing FreeCell with my Grandma and Aunt Redelle
Doing the crossword with my dad and have everyone else in the living room shout out answers
Going on walks around the island in search of kitties to pet
Meeting crazy old ladies and talking about cats with them

So now you have a sense of what I did over vacation. ttyl!

Orthodontic adventures

Well, I just got braces again for the second time. Fun fun, I know. Luckily, they are the low profile small brackets like Regan's, so they aren't as annoying. Plus, now I know what to look for if my braces are broken or something. I miss my retainer. With my retainer, my bite is actually pretty good. Without it, my teeth touch in one spot, my left back molars.

I beat minesweeper the other day. That game is addicting.

My cousin Meaghan's at my house, she's staying for a week and then we're all flying down to Balboa Island for vacation. My mom's other family will meet us down there, as usual. We leave on Saturday. I hope my braces pain will be past the worst part before vacation.

We went shopping yesterday at the Santa Rosa mall. I bought like five shirts. Most of them are green. I'm sensing a new shirt trend coming on. At least, for me. No one else is going to go out and buy green shirts. Except my sister, because all the shirts she buys nowadays are either green, say California on them, or track and field. Green for Dartmouth.

I finally finished the frickin' epilogue of Black Like Me. I suggest you read it the epilogue too, just because there are good quotes in it to show the difference class makes in defining one's destiny. That's all for now, ttyl!

Back from Caz

I got back from Caz on Saturday. I have missed writing in my blog terribly, because now I forget all the stuff i was going to complain about. When I got to Caz, I thought I was lucky because a lot of the girls that were in my cabin last year were in my cabin again. But then I realized they were all preps and boy-crazy and I didn't like them and they never acknowledged my prescence, save for twice. The first time was when I was reading "Black Like Me" One of the girls said, "Emily, you're not black." and I said "Yeah I know." Then one of them said, "Then why are you reading 'Black Like Me?'" I told them it was because the author darkened his skin to see what it was like to be a black man. The second time was when I was reading "Black like Me" and a guy Mark, who all the girls were swooning over, saw me reading at the table next to him and all the girls. He said the same thing as the other girl who asked me about my book. One of the girls acknowledged my existence by yelling, "Why does everyone ask her that?" I muttered to myself, "You should talk; you did too." But she didn't hear me of course, because then they were too wrapped up in chatting about somehting else.

So as you can see, I was an outcast in my cabin. I am not boy-crazy, but there was one guy who was extremely hot, I'll see if I can put his pic up later, and he was the same guy I liked last year. But it's really nothing, there are other guys that are hot too, my age, and nice to me, so I don't know why I even like him, besides the fact that his hair is the most beautiful thing in the world. So I was the night after the first concert and everyone was at the dance, save for me and some other loser guys. The dance ended, and I got in bed twenty minutes before Taps played. I pulled my sleeping bag over my head and cried. It's really lame, I know. I cried for jealousy because Danny was dacnign with someone else (duh, I wasn't even at the dance, and he's a counselor anyway), because no one in my cabin liked me, I missed my family, I wanted to go home, and because there was no way to make amends with the girls in my cabin. I couldn't tell my counselors because then they would tell the girls and they'd be falsely nice to me, and none of them even noticed me shaking in my sleeping bag as sobs silently racked my body, and they all had guys to think about and like and I had nothing. That the was first night I cried myself to sleep. The second one was for the same reasons except that I didn't cry for Danny because I didn't even like him romantically, I just wanted to be able to talk to him and be friends with him and stare at him and his hair. But he didn't like me at all, he just thought I was annoying, like everyone else at Caz.

Then it was Camper Ensemble Night, the last night of Caz. We went to the Shell, which is the amphitheatre, and sat down. I was asked to scoot down more. I gladly did this because I didn't want to sit near the preps anyway. Plus I could see now if any of the girls in my cabin would willingly sit by me, instead of just because there's no other space. To my luck, one girl sat with me, Franzi. She plays cello and is very funny. She's going out with Gabe. Yeah, I know, big shock. But they make a very cute couple. She said she liked me and thought I was funny and cool. I wanted to cry then and there because there was actually someone in my cabin who didn't think ill of me. That night the was third and final time I cried myself to sleep.

Now don't go thinking I was a shy nobody who didn't talk to anyone, waiting for everyone to talk to me first, before I talked to them. I did talk to a lot of people. I tried to make friends with the not-so-preppy-people in my cabin, who weren't all friends from school and had requested to be in the same cabin together. But they too found me annoying and too touchy-feely. Madeleine, I now know there are people worse than you. In that sense of needing personal space. I miss you Smads!!! At least I know that with you, our friendship, however feeble it becomes, won't die because I poked you one too many times, or jumped on your shoulder as I ran past you.

I mean, there were people I could talk to, but only Franzi was kind enough to say that I was her friend. There people I am grateful to have met, even if it isn't mutual with them, and even though it might not have seemed like it at the time. Billie Rae seemed like the innocent kind of person who can have fun sharing jokes and not having to think about things the stereotypical teenager thinks about (boys and all that stuff). She's very funny and I hope we stay in touch because her personality is infectious and she's a joy to be around. Sofia and Lea were great partners in our trio and we had a lot of fun. Elizabeth, I thought was going to be a party animal, except she liked Phantom of the Opera, but she had the personal space issue too, so I couldn't be my hyper self around her. My hyper self only made an appearance when Sarah showed up, who was Gabby's friend, who was one of my counselors. Sarah was hilarious, if I go to Caz next summer, I'm requesting to be in her cabin. Many a mealtime she sat with us and annoyed Gabby. Good times :) And, of course, there's everyone in Emily Lawyer's cabin who I sat with and chatted with and stuff. I knew a lot of them from years past and from clarinet class and stuff like that.

Well, I'm done talking about the social aspect of Caz. ttyl!

Kitty shrine update

I must have at least 400 kitties on my wall. Now it's walls. I expanded to another wall. I still have four pictures to put up, but I ran out of pushpins. I think. Lemme check... Yay! I still have some purple pushpins!! Hang on a sec while I put them up...

Ok now I have lots of kitties.... *evil smirk* I haven't visited the cats up the street today. My sister and I are going shopping after dinner because I need black shoes and khaki capris for Caz. I have khaki pants, but I they're formal pants and I don't want to bring them if I'm only going to wear them on concert days. I have six chapters left of Great Expectations, I hope I'll finish in time. This has been a pretty boring post, sorry for wasting your time. ttyl!

Why?

I have so much to type and it's been very difficult to get on the computer since my parents think they have priority over me. My mom, Wendy, and I were driving down my street when I saw a cat cross the road. It looked a lot like Amber and I was scared that it was her so my mom pulled over and Wendy and I got out to investigate. It wasn't Amber because "Amber's Brother" as we shall call him, had a white-tipped tail and no orange splotch on his forehead. Amber's brother went to hide in some blackberry bushes. We left out bowls of food and water for him.

Then tonight, after karate, I went up to see if he had eaten the food. I saw two pairs of eyes sticking out of the brush. An orange kitten, 5 weeks to 5 months old, and a dark cat that might have been Amber's Brother, but I'm not sure. The food dish was empty so I went back to refill it. It was full of ants so I just used another bowl entirely.

When I got back, I saw two orange kittens playing outside their den with each other. I don't know why, but I started crying. I'm holding back tears now just thinking about them. Maybe it was because they needed a home to play in, not the open space between two houses. Maybe it was because of my own selfish wanting of a cat. Maybe because they were so adorable and they were coping with their depressing situation and having fun even when they could have so much more. They're so innocent and so unfortunate! They don't deserve to live in such poverty! Why? Why can't they be loved and cared for properly?



Then some people walked by and I felt like an idiot, standing in the middle of the open space with a water bottle and a white paper bowl full of cat food with tears rolling down my face. I approached the nest. I knew I would scare them inside. Not even the adventurous orange kitten who was always the one attacking the other and so much like Oreo would come out to see me. I didn't think they would anyway. I was nervous because I didn't know if my crying sent out a fear scent or a happy scent, because I was happy. Kind of. I certainly wasn't depressed or anything.

So I bent down and saw three pairs of eyes, the two orange kittens, and the dark cat that might be Amber's brother. I set the food bowl down and refilled the water bowl and kept staring Oreo's mini-me in the face, when I remembered this one show where it said that cats feel awkward when you stare at them, and less threatened if you don't look at them directly. So I sat down, with my back to the food and facing sort of away from the kittens. Then I started to hear rustling in the bushes behind me. I was afraid that a cat might attack me and claw my back, so I twisted around and stayed like that for a while. I saw the eyes, and it was a cat (duh) but I couldn't tell which one since they were in shadow. I also saw Oreo's mini-me's eyes, so it wasn't him.

None of the cats came out, and the mosquitoes were annoying me so I muttered some kind words they didn't understand and got up. I wanted to show Oreo's mini-me that the food was okay so I put a piece in front of where he was before he retreated furthur into the brush when I approached with a morsel of food. I laid it down and left.

So there are at least 3 cats living in the blackberry bush at the top of my street.

Other news includes: I got a pedometer like Kati's for my bike, so my bike updates will stop being posted, as my bike will keep track of them. My parents go to Starbucks, and they leave out used coffee grinds for people to take and use as compost in their garden, and I was carrying one in and the bag wasn't tied properly and I spilled some down my shirt. I hope it doesn't stain my bra. Wendy came over and we went hiking on Mt. Burdell and we found an even better climbing tree than the tree where I was going to have my birthday party. It's up past the cow gate at the top of the housing development, and when you get to the fork, go across the bridge, and then it's six or seven switchbacks up past the birthday tree to the top, and then take a left off the trail. I bought a catnip plant at Target a few days ago. I haven't anything else to say. ttyl!

Some words

I had a dream last night and it was really confusing. The first thing I can remember is we were in Ms. Kasun's class, and I was finishing my math homework, and she was giving us an assignment to do. The assignment was to list the 10 things we care most about. Then Ms. Kasun became Ms. McDougall. I don't know what I was doing, but I wasn't doing the assignment. Finally I did, and the only piece of paper left was in the sink. It was a very awkward position to write, but I managed. For some reason, Ms. McDougall was holding my other arm and my torso while I was writing. I don't know why, I wasn't sick or anything. And she couldn't have been trying to keep me there, because I left the sink and came back many times. Each time I came back, someone had like, built stuff on my paper, and they built the wrong thing since my handwriting was so bad. I wrote "Houdini" and they thought it said "Hero", so they built a miniature skyscraper and some city or something. Miniature like an inch and a half high. So I was getting very frustrated, because since there was stuff like that on my paper, I couldn't erase it and change it. Then it became this really weird dream, which part of it was before this school segment, and some of it was in between the gaps in my memory, but I can't really remember it. We all had special powers, and I think I could fly, but I'm not sure. We had to wear gloves and mine were blue. There were four different powers you could have. And then there was this battle going on, and I was chosen out of a few to represent our people and go in a hovercraft thing and fight. It was a very random dream. We pulled out of the battle, and I'm not sure who won.

The list I was trying to write was really confusing.

1. God
2. Houdini
3. Some movie character, since Ms. McD said we couldn't put book characters
4. Me
5. Another movie character
6. My mom
7. Amber
8. Fireheart (which is kind of the same as Dini)
9. Another movie character
10. Mendocino

I can't really remember the list, and this is totally not true about myself, so I don't know why I put this stuff down in my dream. I went hiking with my dad yesterday, about 3 miles. Does that count in my bike update? I have to go to Wendy's party. ttyl!

Typing

I'm typing stuff. Bike update is about 44 miles. I biked 12 miles with my mom the other day. She said she would buy me an odometer or something that counts how many miles you've gone so you don't have to trace where you've gone on a map and then calculate the mileage from that. I spent the day at Stina's and it was really fun. It turns out Greg doesn't have a dog, he was just dog-sitting. I'm tired. My dad wants to do some father-daughter bonding because he's weird so I have to go. ttyl!

Don't trot like a smurf!

I feel terrible right now. Not only because I have a stomach ache and I'm really tired, but because now Stina's mad at me because I'm not up to going to the fair with her today. I'm sorry, Stina, but being in the sun all day isn't going to make me feel better, and if I came, I wouldn't be much fun anyway.

If you're wondering about the title of this entry, it was something Mr. Eckl said today. I really regret going to camp today because I'm hella tired now and he makes us march around on the field, which is torture. He was practicing a new maneuvere with the drummers to go to the front of the band and play a drum solo thing. Some of the people ran to the front so he yelled that and it was funny. I'm going to stop now because I need to sleep. ttyl

Marching band

I'm in a marching band for the Fourth of July Parade, I don't want to know how dorky you think that is. There are only two other clarinets. For some reason, Mr. Eckl put me as second clarinet. I can tell you I'm way better than the other two. Even though I'm second clarinet, I play the first part. Mr. Eckl doesn't do the balance thing like Ms. Zigas. The girl that plays second sucks because she gets lost really quickly and has to write the names of the notes below the staff. The guy who's first sucks because he takes everything up an octave (which is okay), but he plays each note really short and accented. It sounds as if I were the only one in the band that can play more than a measure without breathing. Plus neither of them have a very good tone. The girl has a good-ish tone because low notes always sound nice and woody. All the saxophones play like they're in jazz band and I can't hear myself over the drums. Cameron and I are the only ones from San Jose, and likely the only ones not from Sinaloa. I have to go now. ttyl!

A short story

A small girl of six or seven sits in a rocking chair on her front porch. In her hands, there is a collection of Halloween stickers. Looking them over, she absently rocks back and forth in the wooden chair. How she wishes to use some of the stickers! But she knows she can't; the stickers belong to her older sister. Temptation prods her again; her sister never uses them, why can't she have them? She ponders this as she scans a page full of the stereotypical figures that are used to represent Halloween: the black cat with its back arched, the witch on a broom-stick, Jack-o-lanterns with scary faces, white ghosts flying among dead trees that shout "Boo!", skeletons, and various words in a creepy font where the letters look like they're dripping, such as "Spooky" or "Haunted House". The girl knows that if she asked her sister if she could have the stickers, her sister would snatch them away with a "No! You can't have them. Why, did you take some already?" The younger girl would shake her head, "No, I didn't take any." Which would be a lie, but her sister wouldn't notice. "Why won't you let me have any? You never look at them or anything!" Here she would slip into tantrum mode; and tears would spring to her eyes. The girl knows her sister would stick her tongue out at her and stalk off with a, "Because they're mine!"

The girl is never content with this answer, not even in her made-up scenario with her asking her sister for the stickers. Her sister never cared for the stickers, she got them at some Halloween party or another, and then showed them to her mom. Then the small girl's sister forgot about them, and left them on the kitchen table. Their mom, while tidying up, came across them and put them in their "Halloween box". This "Halloween box" is full of decorations and things the children have made in school that pertain to Halloween. The next Halloween is when the small girl finds them again. The stickers are more the box's than her sister's. What makes her sister care about the stickers only when they are coveted by someone else? The little girl, with her active imagination, tries to think about various reasons why her sister wants the stickers. Are they a secret treasure map? Written in invisible ink? She turns the stickers over, no, the other side has little logos of "Mrs. Grossman's" on them. No map or code. She seems to think she would be able to see invisible ink.

The little girl floats back down to Earth in her thoughts, and thinks if maybe this has something to do with human nature. She remembers a quote from a book she recently read, though she isn't quite sure what it means. "The reason why we don't throw things away is because we are afraid others might pick them up." She certainly didn't think that giving the stickers to her was throwing them away, but still, the quote came to mind. Oh, if she could only solve this mystery like those girls in her books, she'd have so much fun with the stickers! Her sister never had fun with them, she never paid them any attention.

All of a sudden it clicks in her mind. The reason why her sister won't give them to her is because she's afraid that she'll have fun with them! This statement she could back up with a few reasons. It's her sister's nature to not want the girl to have fun. She supposes all older sisters were like that. And, if her sister gave her the stickers, the girl would have fun, and her sister would see how her younger sister had fun with them, and want them back so she could have fun with them too. The small girl grins to herself, that didn't quite make sense. She still has difficulty putting her thoughts in words; she had, after all, just learned about words only a few years ago.

The small girl gets up and put the stickers back in the box. She knows she would never have them. By the time her sister is willing to give them up, she would no longer care for them either. Just then, her mom comes out of the house, locking the door as she goes. They are going shopping. "Mom, can I get some stickers?" the girl asks.
"No dear, look at all those in the box."
"But those are my sister's. I wan my own."
"Well, your sister can share them."
The girl already knows this is false, she has a good ten minutes of thoughts to back it up. But she doesn't pursue the subject any further. She hops into the car, her mind already on other things.

Well, it's not exactly a true story, I never thought about arguing with "They're mine", but I don't think all this insight would have helped me back then anyway. ttyl!

Bad dream

I had the worst dream last night, I woke up crying. In my dream, some things were different as they are now. In the movie The Incredibles, Jack-Jack had a disease called AIDS, but it wasn't like AIDS at all because he was born with it and it's very contagious, but you can't die from it unless you don't take your medicine for it enough. The medicine doesn't cure it, but it reduces symptoms and keeps you from dying. You can get it if someone that has it coughs on you or something as casual as that. Since Jack-Jack had it, it wasn't a bad thing to get it as long as you took the right brand of medication, called Melonex. That's the kind he took in the movie. Also, some people don't get AIDS if they are exposed to it, but they get serious side effects which you will see later. Only kids can get the disease. So only people that have just gotten AIDS can spread it. If you've taken medication enough, then it reduces the chance of spreading it to others. Same with spreading side effects.

In my dream, it was still school and we were in the middle of an assembly. I was in the very back row, and not really paying attention even though Stina was in it. Then I started feeling really dizzy and tired. I guess Stina saw me faint or something, because she ran down from the stage and helped me up, and then we went to the office. I had AIDS, but I wasn't too worried. Stina said she didn't mind helping me because she always wanted white hair, and that was one of the side-effects she was getting. The other one was that her vision wasn't as good as it was. I guess the nurse revived me or something, and then it was the next day and Stina and Gram were with me and we were buying medication for me, but I don't think we ever bought it, we just bought a little information booklet about it.

Then my sister and me were outside raking leaves, and she was blind because she was exposed to me before I took my medication. I was yelling her directions because she was about to walk into a bench while she was walking down the driveway to put a bag of leaves in the trash can. I felt really bad for her.

Then we were back inside and I was walking down the hallway into the living room. Then Mom and Dad came home and they knew Jenny was blind and they had just gotten back from a picnic, so I took a bunch of leftover food in to the living room for Jenny and me to eat. Jenny was sitting on the couch and I said "Hey," but she said, "Shh, shh, don't tell me... It's Spem." And I was like, "Yeah it's me." I really wanted to watch TV, but I thought Jenny would feel bad because she could only hear it and not see it. Jen started talking to me, and she said, "Hey Emily, you know the lace border I have around my room? I was thinking putting a different design over it. What do you think?" Here I think to myself, Wow, either I haven't noticed the new decorations, or Jenny's been imaging things about her room since she can't see it anymore. Is everything black for her, or is it just extremely blurry? So I say, "I haven't been in your room in a long time, Jen. I haven't seen it." Then I start crying, and I ask her if she misses seeing things like the backyard and the gazebo because they're so pretty and then I woke up because my mom's alarm clock went off. I was relieved she was awake so I could cry on her.

God knows how horrible this dream was. All of my worst nightmares involve me directly or indirectly in this case harming my sister. This disease is impossible and I know my sister will never go blind, and Stina won't get white hair until she's really old. ttyl!

What's wrong with me?

Why can't I trust my dad? He's never done anything but love me. My mind's been polluted by Chicken Soup stories about girls who've been sexually abused by their dads and step-dads. By my dad's not like that. I don't even want to delve into the subject, because right now I'm on the verge of tears and if I do then I'm going to cry for sure. ttyl

Freaky bike ride

OMG, I just had the freakiest bike ride ever! Jenny, Mom, and I went biking down Fairway, and I wanted to go up some of the side-streets. I went up Carnoustie to deliver CD's to Smurd and KK. Jenny and Mom came with me up Caddy Court but they didn't go down Wentworth Lane, they just turned around and went back down Caddy. So then I went up Capilano and Prestwick. It was fun. Those are my favorites. So I was cruising down Fairway, going up the little streets Thornhill and stuff, and then I see Jenny, Mom, Greg, his mom, and some old lady. I stop and say hi and I really didn't know that Greg had a dog. My legs were really shaky and stiff, like they expanded or something. I wanted to walk it off and then keep biking. But we had to chat and then some Mormons came and we left. Greg's mom was really rude to them. I wonder how KK's mom deals with them, since the Jehovah's Witnesses come to her house. Anyway, then we went to the end, and I went up St. Andrew's. I walked my bike up a lot of it. Very tiring. But it's so much fun to go down! When you let up on the break, it's like if you go over a bump in the road, you'll just take off flying. That's how Wentworth is too. And believe me, there are plenty of bumps on Wentworth. So then I go to catch up with Jenny and Mom, because they said they'd keep going on Fairway slowly. I get to about Wentworth, and I'm getting kind of worried, because I'm going over twenty miles an hour and I haven't seen them yet. And then there's this guy in the road and he's facing my direction and then we gets in this big red van. I stay behind him. Then he drives and pulls over again and sticks his hand out of the window, likes he's signaling or something. He's like waving and pointing to the ground and whatever, and I'm freaking out because I didn't know if he was signaling to me or to the workers across the street, and I didn't know what he was trying to say. I memorized his liscense plate, it's 5IOU802 incase you see it. I'm pretty sure it's an I, it might've been a J, but the liscense plate holder was in the way. So I pass him while he's pulled over, and then he passes me again too. I'm getting really scared, and I'm thinking to myself, "Ok, if he pulls over again, he might be trying to kidnap me. Can I hold him off until I get to Christina's, or should I try to go up Carnoustie to Madeleine's?" Luckily, he doesn't pull over, he just keeps going.

Now I'm relieved he's gone, but I'm really nervous about Jenny and Mom. Initially I thought the red van guy had kidnapped them and they were in his van. It seemed unlikely since I didn't spot anyone in the van but him. I continue all the way to the mailbox, swearing to myself because I haven't seen Jenny and Mom. So I'm at the mailbox, and I'm wondering what to do. Did they go to Safeway? Are they at home? Did I pass them and didn't see them? Were they really kidnapped? So I take a swig of water and turn around to go back up Fairway and ask Greg and his Mom if they had seen them while they were on a walk. Then I see Jenny and Mom coming down from Fairway and I yell, "Where the heck have you been?" I make a U and pull up beside Mom, and she explains that they were up at Piping Rock Road looking at something and they saw me go by and yelled but I didn't see them. I was happy I found them, mad that they didn't keep their word when they said they'd be on Fairway, and confused why they went up Piping Rock. Or it might've been Thornhill. One of those streets where there are no houses, just garages. So now I'm worried because Mom went to Safeway and it's been almost a half hour since we got back and she still isn't back. I'm really hungry, though. ttyl!

Bike update

Today I biked about 8 miles. I met Madeleine at the mailbox and we went to the end of Fairway, and we also went up some of the side roads. It was fun. Then we went back to Madeleine's house and hung out. Then I became restless and wanted to go biking some more. I knew Madeleine wouldn't go for it, and it was about time I headed home anyway. I know I should've called to say I was at Smurd's when I got there, but I didn't. It doesn't matter anyway. So after I left Smurd's, I went biking some more. Then I went home, took a shower, and then my sister wanted to go jogging with me at IVC. So we did that and then some sit-ups and here I am now. So now my bike total is 26. ttyl!

Food

As you can see, I've added some links to my site. They're all about food and stuff. I'm going to start a log of everything I eat and keep track of portion sizes and stuff. And now I see that it is possible to be a vegetarian without being anemic if you eat enough servings of nuts, beans, and dairy/soy products. I started the log because I'd always forget what I ate during the day, so I didn't know if I had enough of everything. So now after every meal, I'm going to put tally marks under the servings I've eaten and record what I ate. It is a lot of work, but I think it'll be worth it. I wanted to use a day planner for my record book, but we didn't have one, so I'm just using a book with lined paper in it. I didn't go biking yet today, I don't know if I'm going to. I'm going to try to finish Green Rider today. My dad wants to use the computer. ttyl!

Bikes and clothes

I'm going to bike all summer and see how many miles I can score. Two days ago I biked to the end of Fairway and back with Christina, which is about 5 miles. Today I biked/walked our bikes with Kati a total of 13 miles. We went to IVC, then we biked around there, and then we went on some fire roads there. Then we came back and went to Fairway, but when we got to the end of the road, we continued on a trail all the way to this waterfall. We had to walk our bikes on the dirt trail. It was really fun. Then we came home and I was too tired to bike around Loma Verde, but 13 miles is enough so I'm not feeling guilty. Yesterday I cleaned out all my clothes that didn't fit and now I have like nothing to wear. Let's see... I have about ten sweatshirts, five over-sized shirts, four camis, at least seven beaters, one short-sleeved over-shirt, over ten T-shirts, two jackets with zippers, one long-sleeved over-shirt, four long-sleeved shirts, one long skirt, one pair of capris, two pairs of pants, two pairs of dress pants, one short skirt, two pairs of pajama pants, two bathing suits, no sweaters, two pairs of flip-flops, three pairs of tennis shoes, one pair of dressy shoes, and one pair of shorts. And everything else that's in the wash and not in my drawers. I'd prefer to not list my underwear and that stuff. :) As you can see, I am a bit short in the pants department. I have no blue jeans. I have a pair of pants that are blackish-grayish jean material, but no blue. And my other pair of pants are baggy black cargo pants. So I went online to pacsun.com and put in my shopping cart over $600 worth of clothes. I seriously doubt my mom will buy all of it, so I'm cutting down on things I don't need. Which isn't much. I've got about twenty items in my cart. PacSun is hella expensive. I want to get three camis, five pairs of pants, one pair of capris, two pairs of shorts, two pairs of boardshorts, two T-shirts, three over-shirts, one jacket with a zipper, and one bathing suit. FYI, an over-shirt is a light fabric shirt that you wear over another shirt. Like a band-geek shirt. Well, maybe you don't know what that is. Whatever. So that's what I want to get. I think it's pretty reasonable. I'm not getting too much of anything. Maybe I don't need more T-shirts, or three more over-shirts. But they're really cute and stuff! I want them. I doubt Mom will go for it, but hey, my Grandma was here for graduation, so she gave out a lot of money. For now, though, everyone's focusing on my sister (as usual) because she's going to college next year, as you know. Two and a half more months. For graduation, my sister got $1200. I got $150. Woo hoo for me. It sucks being the youngest grandchild out of four. Just because I'm youngest doesn't mean I have nothing to spend money on. Hell, I'm the only one still growing! I'm the one that still grows out of clothes and needs to get new ones! Sure, $150 is a ton of money, but I won't be able to buy everything I want. I won't be able to buy much with that. And I like PacSun and I like shopping online, so I don't want to go anywhere else to find cheaper clothes. PacSun is my style and their pants actually fit my body. I went to American Eagle a few months ago, and I had to get a size 5 to fit my thighs, but a size 1 would fit my height. My mom better come through for me and buy some stuff for me. We have a deal that she supplies food and necessary clothes, and I buy toys and room decor and excess clothing. But I have no excess clothing. I have to go eat lunch; I'm starving. ttyl!

It's Oreo!!!!!!!!!!! 

Houdini

This is my husband, Houdini. He's Christina's cat and he's very very very fat. I wrote a comparative essay about him and Oreo. It describes him very well. Here it is:

Houdini and Oreo are two lovable, adorable cats who, despite their differences, are both capable of very mindless acts. They are both very fat, though Houdini is forever larger. Oreo has the amazing ability to make himself very long, allowing himself to be worn as a scarf. Houdini can be dainty but still be very heavy. Oreo is very curious and more playful than the brooding Houdini. Houdini is less outgoing than Oreo, and prefers hiding in small places to being out in the open. Their facial features are very different, but they can still pull off the endearing “curious cat” look. They have diverse ways of spending their time. Houdini and Oreo are very different, both physically and personality-wise.

Houdini and Oreo are, of course, both cats and therefore share some physical traits, though they still have many bodily differences. Houdini is so fat that he is hard to pick up. Oreo’s black and white coat is smooth, and consists of long hair; while Houdini’s orange hair is coarse and shorter. Houdini’s favorite position is curled up in a ball while Oreo likes to vary in shape depending on his container. He will curl up into a picnic basket or spread himself out across the bed based on his mood. Houdini is a Somali, and his coloring is a cross between fawn and sorrel. Oreo looks more like a Rag doll, collapsing easily in one’s arms. He is black and white with a very long tail. Houdini and Oreo look very different and have different body structures.

Houdini and Oreo also have very different personalities; Oreo is outgoing and Houdini just wants to be left alone. Oreo is always a willing candidate for a belly rub or a scratch under the chin. He enjoys attention so much that one time, while he was being massaged, he rolled over and fell off the scratching post. When Oreo counts his blessings, the yarn ball, tootsie pop wrappers, paper, string, and feathers are all first on his list. He was much more enthusiastic about the catnip than Houdini, ripping out mouthfuls of it at a time. He is also much more photogenic than Houdini, because Houdini usually runs away if someone gets too close to him. Oreo is very inquisitive; he seemed genuinely interested when he discovered bubbles for the first time. He even smelled the camera when it invaded his personal space. Oreo and Houdini both enjoy being hand fed little dry cat food morsels. Bubbles popping on one’s nose can be an unpleasant experience, as Houdini and Oreo both learned. They will therefore run away to avoid this situation. Houdini will only allow himself to be stroked if he is already lying down, caught unawares, or being held firmly. He likes his head scratched more than his flabby stomach. He enjoys his jawbone being scratched and his forehead rubbed, as does Oreo. Houdini wasn’t very interested in the catnip, but he did enjoy sniffing it in small quantities. Houdini likes milk-treading on Christina’s silk shirts, the carpet, and unsuspecting sleepers. When Houdini is not hiding in a corner or behind the couch, he enjoys stepping on people and meowing very loudly. Houdini seems smarter than Oreo because Oreo gets into trouble more often. Houdini and Oreo both enjoy basic cat activities, but they are still very different cats.

If one looked closely enough, one would notice many characteristics about cats’ faces, such as Oreo’s hidden cleverness and Houdini’s introversion. Oreo has light green, intelligent eyes that look out of place with the scrawny whiskers and ear-hair that dominate his appearance. His pink nose has a lot of character; it adds a small touch to complete that rough explorer-look that characterizes his face. An inquiring nose sets out first to sniff an object, and then those intelligent eyes identify it. Oreo’s rustic fur that just can’t look neat gives him a sleek informality in spite of its messy appearance. Houdini had a very wild look when he was a kitten, but he has shed his kit-hood coat. Nowadays, his medium-long hair concisely frames his face and neck. His eyes and slightly flaring nose give him an intimidating stare, and his ears needn’t be back in order for him to look perturbed. He has much dignity and looks at one disdainfully most of the time. It seems like the only thing that isn’t daunting about Houdini’s face is his tiny pink chin. His cute little chin looks fragile because it is covered only in stubble. His forehead is wrinkled and if his ears are straight, he looks very inquisitive. Houdini’s eyes are a golden honey color and are very expressive. They can be curious as well as cold, loving along with loathing. They are lined with creamy white fur, as if Houdini were wearing eyeliner. A cats’ face is expressive and no two are the same even if the emotions shown are alike.

All in all, Oreo and Houdini are both fat, fuzzy creatures with their own nuances. They both have very expressive faces and have their own quirks. Houdini is a sullen cat that would rather be left alone. Oreo is curious and sometimes gets himself into a tight predicament. They both enjoy weaving themselves through picture frames, heaps of clothing, and Christina’s porcelain figure collection. Oreo’s long hair is black and white as opposed to Houdini’s light orange fur that is medium in length. Oreo’s motto would be, “I’m a little cat just walking down the street, gonna cause a heap of trouble for all concerned.” Houdini’s would be, “Maybe if I shut my eyes, they won’t see me either.” These two cats are half brothers on their father’s side. Houdini and Oreo are cats to admire for their similarities and differences.

Do you like it? I do. Well, that basically sums up Oreo and Houdini. I'll include a picture of Oreo in my next entry. ttyl!