interview

So I've discovered that the plot of my play "Fablebelle" is really really hard to explain on the spot. It leaves you looking like a spluttering idiot, pushing your big toe into the floor and shaking like you've got scarlet fever. Which I think gives you shakes. I remember being really cold... but that may have been the strep, or lack of water. 

Moral of the story: be more prepared in the future. 

But I think I reconciled myself in the five minute personal interview- told them that I realized Fablebelle probably wasn't the greatest of my plays to choose. It was like it was scripted: they asked me what other stuff I'd done and I told them I wrote a four page script called "Flowers Are Everywhere" over the strike that embodied my frustration with the strike and how "flowers" are an metaphor for obstacles; 

A metaphor that becomes whatever you need it to become. Like it’s some sort of obstacle that we sometimes just need to pick up and move, or sometimes metaphorically water, or sometimes metaphorically drive a stake into the ground next to so it can straighten and fix itself, or even sometimes just metaphorically step over and chill out?

So hopefully I get in. Really not sure. 

Feeling:

(but not for long)

P.S. Happy Birthday Amy!!!! :D 

falling day... see you there...

Seriously going to murder the people upstairs. Not only is they're music playing STUPIDLY loud, they're screaming. They've got five minutes before quiet hour starts and I call the Don on Duty. It sounds like there's a serial murderer up there killing them all or something... 

I have an evaluation for theatre tomorrow at 8:30 in the morning. Today is the one day I actually need sleep. And I spent like, seven bucks printing stuff off at the library- it's .09 cents a page. I have a lot of pages. So hopefully that goes well. I really want to get in. 

Anyways, I went to sleep early yesterday - yay! 2 am! - and woke up like, for quarter to 12 today? Me and Robin went skating, and I fell. Granted, I was trying to balance on one skate with the other stretched out in front of me, but still, I fell and you know what? Falling without padding hurts. A lot. 

And then on the way back I slipped on slush and bashed my knee hard to keep from falling face first. I walk through there 4 or 6 times a day, and I slipped. I was very tired. And then I fell asleep in the common room for like, an hour with people talking around me. Carly woke me up, which is hilarious, cause Carly's always running around going crazy. Well, usually doing that. 

On the way to the library guess what happened? Well, I didn't fall, but I almost did. I hit a bunch of doors and hit the wall... which was odd. It was funny cause before that we went to the LCBO which is the only place you can buy alcohol, and on the way back we had to climb over this snow hill and Robin and Miche made it over and were talking or something, and Robin turned around and was like, 'Well, the question is will she make it over...' 'She' being me. And I did. 

Thus, today has been dubbed falling day (I watching Dr Horrible with Commentary! the Musical going on at the same time, and it was awesome... falling day, laundry day... got it... good...)

Also, I put on my shower sandals and guess what? I kicked a ping-pong table by accident the first night I was here which has continued to hurt for a unnaturally long amount of time. Now it's red and puffy and painful, and there's something wrong with it! I put on cream and a bandage, so hopefully it'll be fine soon...

Tomorrow's Amy's 20th celebration, which is gonna be great fun. I'm really excited. Also the day my roomie gets back. Yeah... Lots of stuff is happening tomorrow. 

Feeling: 

Okay, those guys are totally going down... this is ridiculous. 

Night all. 

Sparky out. 

P.s. Diggy, fix your stupid phone. I miss you. <3 

icons (4) and my insomnia

    

First three are from Himym, "Three Days of Snow" and the last one is from Buffy, "Angel". It's Angel being a vampire, something I definitely didn't know and something that definitely scared the crap out of me because I was only half-focused on the screen at the time. It was like, 

"Oh, okay, they're finally kissed- oh, what, there's something wrong with hi- HOLY CRAP HE'S A FLIPPEN VAMPIRE! GAH-AHHHHHHH! WHEN IN THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN?!?!?!!"

Yeah. I should really go to sleep, but I had a lot of fun tonight. Got a bunch of awesome captures. 

Feeling:

stories

So I realized that yes, I do talk a lot about my writing. I found that I had my own "feed", and the url is:

feed://www.fanfiction.net/atom/u/708387/

It's fanfiction, and the only good domains are Rent and Friends... everything else just kind of falls flat. And also, there's stuff in there from a long, long time ago. 

Tomorrow we're having a read-through of the play I'm stage-managing. And by play I mean a four-page script of awesome-ness that Amy's putting on for playground. It's going to be awesome, I'm so excited. Except I'm not really sure what she expects from me- hopefully I'll figure it out soon. I don't mind though, I know she'll tell me if I'm doing something wrong, so I'm not worried. Still, theatre! I'm getting involved! Hu-RAH!!!

Feeling:

Sparky out.

...blinking, step into the sun...

Circle of life. 

So I've watched the sun rise... and discovered something. 

Apparently I'm able to connect a cat, water, Rent, and the cat's version of 'Seasons of Love' and 'No Day But Today' all together... without really knowing how it happened? I figure most things happen like that. Most seemingly really deep connections happen like that. Usually stuff like that happens for my by accident. Yes, yes, when I talk like that I feel like I'm one of those people I want to punch in the face while celebrating my artistic freedom. But seriously. The most I've ever thought about the 'bigger picture' and 'connecting' and 'deeper meaning' was my play Fablebelle. And the planning of that was pretty much limited to, 'what are the characteristics of princesses' and 'how can I make this logically work...'. 

But now my eyes are getting droopy and I'm going to have a nap. Hopefully I'll be up by 12 and we'll go skating- yay!

Also, I had half a Froop Loop in my cup and in my room lighting it looked like part of a snail- like the shell or something. So I started flipping out and all these random senarios were going through my head- and I took it to the light, and... realized it was a Froot Loop. Is that how you spell Froot Loop? I don't know... 

Night night... 

Hmm... night cap? 

Nah, it'll keep me up... (by night cap I mean tea)

... Sparky- fallin' asleep at the keyboard...

Places home- people home.

>>> When I was landing, I realized that although Calgary houses all the people that make me consider it 'home', landing in Toronto made me feel like I was returning to a part of what 'home' is comprised of. And to reconcile the conflicting (or so I thought) emotions, I came up with a theory of 'people home' and 'places home'. 

Calgary is my people home and always will be my hometown.

Toronto, thus far, is the closest I've gotten to a places home. 

 - - - - - 

I closed my computer and swore I wasn't going to go on it again. I was going to be in bed by 4 (for once). That failed. Even while I was in the bathroom getting ready, trying to convince myself that I was really going to bed, I was composing the beginning of this in my head. Go figure. Lost the battle before it was even declared. 

Finished watching Buffy Season 1. The first episode of the second season was awesome. It's like their story-telling abilities went up five notches over the summer. So. Impressed. 

I can finally admit to myself I've gotten accepted into a new group of friends, and maybe start feeling more relaxed in the group. 21 and 1/2 is a joyous occasion and although everyone but me was drinking, it was great fun. Sentimentality is much more abundant when alcohol is present, but it was verbalized and physicalized, genuinely I would think. I never thought my leg feeling like it was going to be torn at the kneecap could feel so gratifying. 

Here's to never forgetting where your roots, but accepting that there may be more to life than just one city. 

And never, ever forgetting those you love. 

Sparky out.

-or rather, Sparky attempting to go to bed. Which may or may not (may not) happen. 

Sparky out  (take two).

Skype High-Five!!!

Me and my Mom were totally Skype High-Five-ing one another. It was awesome. It was legendary. It was epic-ly awesome of legendary proportions. 

So I've discovered when I lack sleep, my ability to verbalize coherently diminishes while my ability to express myself through composition increases. It's like an amusing math problem. I can't tell you how many times I've been accused of being intoxicated in the past two days. The answer is none. Although I was surrounded by a quite rambunctious crowd last night. 

People are being loud. I'm not sure if I could get asleep even if I wanted to. Which I do. But I wanna write. I talk a lot about my writing, but I don't think anyone but Diggy reads it- which is awesome. I like having that part to myself. Well, not entirely to myself, but I know what I mean. 

So I'm going to go write. I've got nothing poignant or life-altering to offer today... 

"Is my every random thought insightful?

Very! 

Not just entertaining, I'm a luminary..."

Also... NPH freaking out at the end of  Neil's Turn is hilarious. Watch. 

love and tea

>>> About a million things are confusing me right now. (really about only three). But there are two things I'm sure about: love and tea.

>> I don't know many people who would drive two hours just to see me. I'm glad I know at least three.

> At the end of the day, when you close your eyes, it's the people you don't have to think about that really matter the most. 'Cause they're already there. You just don't (usually) realize it.

3:13

It's three thirteen and I'm still awake. I don't know how long I've slept in the past couple days (4ish to 8ish today, oh, I guess 3ish to 3ish the day before that, but before that it was like, 4ish to 8ish again) but it's getting really annoying. Diggs went beddy-bye a while ago, I think Bear drifted off or something and I'm awake. Parents sleeping, check. Brother sleeping, check. Best friend sleeping, check.  Toronto sleeping, check. 

I'm itching to do something. Run. I want to run. I don't know why. My mom asked me "If I buy a treadmill, will you run on it?" and I said sure. Then proceeded to not run on it at all. But today I ran for 15 minutes or so, pretty intense, jogging and *running* the entire time and it just felt good. Then there was warm-down and my legs aren't cramping yet, which is good. I just really want to do it again.

(Well, there was one instance where my iPod fell of the little shelf thing and I was running and I bent down to try to pick it up but then I started falling off the track and then I had to like, jump off to keep from hurting myself and the magnetic key fell out and my Mom burst into the room looking like she anticipated seeing me lying there in pieces passed out or something... other than that it went well!)

The most annoying part of this is that I can feel my eyes shutting and I have no muse, but I need a release. It feels like I can't get to sleep without doing something, but I can't figure out what. 

Gah, it's driving me insane. 

I read somewhere that someone daydreams, and that's how she falls asleep. I'll try that and hopefully it'll work... 

Really getting on my nerves though. 

(p.s. i come up with awesome nicknames that have *everything* to do with personality and character.)

<3 

Happy Pseudo-18th ME!!!

My mom decided that today would be my 18th birthday day with her and my dad 'cause I'm not going to be in Calgary for it. We got up at eight (went to sleep at like... what was it, four? quarter after?), ate, got ready (I was miraculously awake) and went to Banff. The plan was to go to the hot springs there, but we ended up walking around a bit first, and then going to eat. Went to this greek restaurant which was awesome and then went up to the hot springs... which was a bust. There were so many people crammed into that little pool. I mean, if I really wanted to go, they would've gone, but it would've been awkward and uncomfortable so we came back home instead. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep in the car listening to The Last Five Years, which is AWESOME!! and then we watching Righteous Kill (not a rip-off of The Poet, thankfully. Was shaping up that way initially) and now they're sleeping and I'm up doing the predictable. I'm going to miss them a whole fucking lot. 

I can't wait till Thursday, I need to talk to someone cause I'm going to burst. It's building up inside and it's driving me crazy. And it's not even... there's something to be said about the dish and the spoon. But I can't wait, cause it's going to be awesome. 

Also- not looking forward to Thursday. Which leads nicely to the 'Doogie' portion of this post:

>>>> Four hours isn't long enough to prepare for four months. Numbers are a science; feelings are a nuisance... but they're also kinda the greatest things in the world. 

 - - - - - 

And, in the spirit of discovering something new about yourself everyday; apparently now I get car sick. And I like running. I was running on the treadmill today and it felt good. I feel good now. I think I might start going running. 

I'm also playing around with the idea of going camping this summer with a bunch of friends. I love going camping, but my family can't cause of my Mom's bad back, and I'm old enough now, so why not exploit that? 

Sand*i* peace-ing out...

and failing at not making a lot of noise...

parents totally going to wake soon...

22nd

>>>> Booked my ticket back to York. Strike-full or strike-less I'll be back. The primary definition of bittersweet shouldn't be regarding food- it should be regarding this ache in my chest that makes me feel like I'm going to throw up paired with the itchy eagerness being suppressed in my body to get back into the groove of things.  

Stupid irony.

Sleep-aholic

So Jessi had to go and give me a damn Blog Bunny, and here I am. They say the first step is to admit you have a problem. 

1. I, Sandra Drag, have a problem. 

... with sleeping. It's my addiction. It's horrible. 

I wake up in the morning- I know I've had enough, but I just can't bring myself to stop there. No, I have to roll over and have MORE! Completely pointless, wasteful, and makes me even MORE tired during the day I think. Okay, so step two is... 

So the first step is actually "admitt[ing] we [are] powerless over our addiction"... which I don't fly with. Mind over body anyone? I really don't want this to turn into a discussion about things... that we in my philosophy class shy away from. I think I'll stick with mine. In that case, screw the second step. 

But the thing is, with my best friend two hours away, school two thousand miles away and everyone else in school and such... why the hell should I wake up in the morning? I'm most productive at night (curse you testing centre essays!) and during the day I have nothing to do, no muse to feed off, no motivation to get up. I spend as much time with my parents as I can (Wednesday I got up at NINE! That's love and dedication right there)- so I could hang out with my Mom and run errands and stuff with her. 

And I'm sorry Peter, no, I am not going to get up at 10 for you so I can WALK with you to the liquor store... still can't believe he walked... why the hell did I think he had the car, and where the hell did I think he got it from? (a testament to how out of it/tired I really was). 

Oh! Now I remember the reason for this post! Haha, I ramble a lot, don't I ;) 

I've forgotten it... Oh... No... Damnit. 

Yes. 

I also got up at nine sometimes so that Mere could come over and we could watch as much Himym in before she had to leave, as we could. And I remember saying to her- I miss being so exhausted that I daydream of my bed and actually begin seriously considering carrying around a photograph of it. I miss having absolutely no time to myself; like, at times it was just crazy. I got up in the morning, left for school at like, 8 15, was in the theatre all day working on whatever, had field hockey/rehearsal after school, had hockey/show after that. There were times in grade 10 that I left the house at 7 (stupid bus) and got home maybe 10ish? 11ish? It was insane. 

And I miss that. I miss feeling productive. Being part of a team. Being busy and being constantly on the move. My lunches were awesome cause they had to keep me going all day. Yeah, I ate a whole bag of crackers or a half a baguette- but that energy kept me going. 

I miss it. 

I want it back.

F*ck you and your strike York. 

... please accept me next year. 

>>>>  I'm the kind of person who won't get a job because she doesn't want to quit in a week. I can't do that to someone. 

>>>> I've never really understood the phrase "Dutch girl with her finger in the dam." Now I do. And I hate it. 

I need to get up in six hours... but I'll probably end up writing instead. 

Wurd.

p.s. confusion

>>>> If you've already lost it, they've got nothing to take away. 

But that doesn't soften the ache we feel when reality sets in.

Contradictions... 

Twitter

Don't know why I named it Twitter. Probably change it in a bit. And yes Tamara, I do feel that feeling. I'm feeling it right now (yes, Tamara, it's because of you). 
(The feeling to write blogs that is. Not that other thing. You dirty dirty minded... diggs.)

You know what's annoying. Read, present tense, is written the same as read, past tense. Which makes it very difficult to convey the right tone in text messaging. "To read, or read" sounds stupid. Like: 

"One one was one racehorse, two two was one two. Two two one one race, one one one one two." 

Now, if you read it like, 


"One One was one racehorse, Two Two was one too. One One won one race, Two Two won one too" 

it gets a lot easier... but it's less amusing. 
So, y'all ready, cause I'm about to drop some knowledge. (I think that might be some obscure and slightly altered quote from Himym... it's a safe bet these days about most things I saw that sound too clever for me to come up with) (...) (although that one isn't all that clever) (ANYHOW) (haha, spellcheck tried to change Himym into 'Homey'... now there's an idea!) 
So I just posted the other stuff separately, below this one. Cause they are connected, but they're not. 

>>> And the 'jump' is what a link is called. So if a story is 'after the jump' than the jump is referring to a link, and the story is linked to the link, aka, the 'jump'. That makes no sense. 

Ahhm. The link to a story (or any link, I guess) is called a jump, because it takes you away from the original page, or you 'jump' to another page. Got it? Good. :D

Theatre and trying to explain it... again.

Theatre is a lot like life. You may find yourself doing the same things over and over, but you can inject those things with spice, do them a little differently every now and then, throw in a hoop for the others with you to jump through. There are different stages of your life- there are different stages of a show, different shows, different literal stages that a show may be performed on. There are no days exactly the same- there are no two shows performed exactly the same. You may do the best show of your life and never experience that feeling again. But it's okay, because you experienced it then, and you experienced it. 

Having fun, breaking character, responding to unforeseen difficulties,  jumping a cue or missing it altogether- all these things happen in theatre and in real life. 

I'm not sure if I believe in destiny enough to alike that aspect to theatre, but like Assassins "The Ballad of Booth" says:

Someone tell the story, 
Someone sing the song. 
Every now and then 
The country
Goes a little wrong.

Every now and then
A madman's 
Bound to come along. 
Doesn't stop the story-
Story's pretty strong. 
Doesn't change the song...

I connect with musicals, I connect with the emotions they exploit and even though the dialogues never (rarely never, thanks to [title of show]) a perfect metaphor, the feeling is. The story is what I understand, despite the gags, despite the pimping, despite the melody or setting or characters or even actors- it all boils down to the story in the end, and everyone's got a story. And that story's doesn't stop for anything short of death (and even beyond that for some of people). 

[title of show]

[title of show] "Die Vampire Die"

You sketched that turtle you say on an ad on late-night cable TV
                  - Tippy Turtle!
But your fourth grade teacher said
                  - You can't draw,
Oh those vampires just won't let you be
                  - F*ck you Ms. Johnston. Wurd.

You know what you don't do to a second grader when you're a teacher? Bully them. Humiliate them. Make them cry. You just don't do it. You don't suggest they go to a special school; you realize that their parents can't help them with their English homework and reading. You don't give up because they can't complete a mad-minute; you help them with their numbers. You don't ruin their self-confidence with snide remarks that they don't quite understand the meaning of, but grasp the undertone. You don't undermine their determination and concede to enroll them in ESL.  

But then again; 

Pity the child, but not forever,
Not if he stays that way.
Pity instead the careless Mother,
What she missed when she lost
When she let me go

Okay, far cry from a perfect metaphor, but the feeling's all the same. Pity the child then, for what he was, but not now, for what he become because of it. Pity the oppressor, or rather the enabler (in a weird twisted way), pity them for dismissing the child and in turn losing what it is that that child became. 

Mr. D pointed out to me once, that her influence in my life was probably why I did so well in English (and Math... until 30P... evil 30P). That there's something down there inside of me wanting to prove her wrong. That she did something to me, instilled some sort of drive in me, some sort of yearning that's caused my intrigue with writing.

I have no doubt that my love for theatre is genuine and heartfelt- it's an innate part of me that I cannot explain. It's a part of me as much as my arm or leg, something that I'm constantly feeling the absence of. 

And because I've discovered that love the way I have- with support and with positive encouragement I can't help but feel that my love for writing is somewhat tainted. 

Instead of discovering it positively, I was bullied into it; I can't help but wonder now... 

When I got my Grade Nine Achievement tests back it was, "Take that Mrs. M you (censored)!" 

When I got my Grade Ten English marks, my Eleven, my Twelve it was, "See how wrong you were!"

I hate that she'll always be a part of me. I hate that something I love so much has the ability to remind me of her. I hate that I'm inclined to blame my childhood experience on her... and I hate that some part of me wonders if I'd be doing what I was doing if it weren't for her. 

I wouldn't change my childhood for anything, because it made me stronger and it's made me into who I am today. And I kind of like who I am. It's helped me come to terms with facts like, People change, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. But nine times out of ten, you'll regret cutting contact with them, even if you don't particularly like them, so don't do it. It's taught me that some people are insecure with themselves so they have to project an image of confidence to avoid getting hurt. It's taught me that jealously rises without merit, and when acted on, usually ends up harming the wrong person. It's taught me that it's okay to make best friends without the fear of desertion- people move on, people change and there's nothing you can do so make the best of it while you can. 

Doogie-ying it.

So I'm going to be ripping off Doogie and stealing his blogness... iv-ness? 

>>>> Sometimes it's smarter to be the one to make the first move. Because then when someone else makes the second move, you know where you stand. 

 - - - - -

So yeah. 

How I Met Your Mother last night was amazing. Seriously golden. Barney with a teddy bear is adorable, and I love the relationship between Barney and Lily. Priceless. 

Awesome... 

I feel the need to fill up space. Instead of having a long and winding post saying exactly how I got to my conclusion (look above the jump) (well, it's not really a jump... it's a line that WOULD be a jump if I could make it one...) I just have the two lines above. And I guess they say whatever I feel. Cause that's pretty much all I did today... but I just wonder, if I ever go back and read this, will I remember what I was writing about? 

Hopefully I will. 

And also, Breezy was hilarious today because of this.

Me: Breezy, have you seen my shoes?

Breezy: FONZIE!

Sabrina's Boyfriend: No, Breeze, I think she actually wants you to look at them.

Breezy: Oh...

So I just wrote something that's... pretty dark. And ramble-y. And twisty and I'm not quite sure what that says about me. It's sort of like word vomit, but it's not about me, it's someone else, someone fictional, someone no real. Which is what fictional means. But it's really... different than what I usually do. And I'm not sure what brought it on. And I'm not sure if there isn't even a little part of me in it. Which is stupid to say, because everything everyone writes is just an extension of themselves, and exaggerated part of themselves they exploit for a character but... it's really different. And unsettling on some levels. It's three sentences (two if you don't could dot dot dot as the end of one), but it's 1300 words. 

I saw Eagle Eye today- ROSIE D!!!! Ah, I love her. She was amazing in Seven Pounds. I liked Seven Pounds. I don't know if I've commented on it, but it was pretty good. They could've probably edited it a little better to cut out the loooong lead-in to the plot, but oh well, what can you do. That's just my opinion ;) 

Started watching Doogie Howser. Tiny NPH is cute. And it's actually a pretty good show. I don't remember liking the first episode much, but I'm on the... 13th of season one and I actually really really enjoy it. He gets yelled at a lot though... he's such a trouble maker, it's hilarious. And the little blog thing at the end of each episode is cute. I don't think I'd ever be able to write a couple short sentences about how my day went. 

>>> January 12 2009... Yesterday (because it's three in the morning), I realized something. I don't like eating breakfast with strangers in the house. My old high school has create a acute procrastinator. I think I'm about to get caught staying up... 

And on that note- 

BYE!

burns

- - - - -

she burns her finger. 

she screams. 

she jumps.

she laughs.

it gets kissed better. 

it's never painful, just annoying.

just like always.

except this time, every time it throbs, she's reminded why she doesn't want to go

- - - - -

Happy (belated) New Years!

So happy belated New Years! 

It was a good one :) Well, I would have loved to go to just one party, with all my best friends there, but that didn't happen. Oh well, what can you do. I had a wicked time at both! (fyi- the door you pointed to was totally NOT the bathroom! I opened it and it actually took a little while for the piles and piles of blankets (or were they towels?) to register as such.) 

Smth's was awesome too. I pulled her present out and she was like, no... you didn't... I hate you... and then she came out afterwards and was like, looking through all the stars while I was sitting on the couch with Mere and she was like, Dude... you have way too much time on your hands. Which is totally true, but beside the point! Haha. I think she liked it though. I hope she does. I got three people outside of my family presents, and I hope they all liked them. 

See, I'd like to get this off my chest. Yes, I agree Christmas has become materialistic. And I hope that the people I gave presents to like them, cause I love giving gifts that mean a lot. They weren't expensive, but I put a lot of thought into them. Mostly, I would love if I got a gift like that, so I hope people share my sentiment and enjoy them too. I got some pretty cool stuff from my family. I love the blanket I got. It's soft and cuddly and has a wolf on it. It's wicked. It could chew everyone else's blanket into mutilated goop. Yeah. That's right. I just went there. I got Twilight... which was odd. But whatever. I was talking about it a lot, so I guess on some levels they do listen. And it was sweet- thoughtful in a not-really, really twisted way. Sadly, the greatest present I got was two seasons of How I Met Your Mother... from my brother... because I told him repeatedly to get me that. Repeatedly. I just... I do appreciate everything I have. I do realize how awesome I have it. I love my family. I love my friends. I love giving them presents I know that I would love and appreciate cause thinking about them happy makes me happy. It would've just been awesome to get that from someone because they knew I'd like it, not because I asked for it. Not even that. Just something to show that, you know, just because I live far away doesn't mean I'm disconnected enough from them for them not to know what to get me, without me telling them. 

I had the greatest moment with my mom and I know she doesn't even realize it. She's been getting on my nerves cause now that she's not working 24/7, she's on the computer. I haven't sat in my desk for like, a good day cause she's been there, on the other laptop, incisively asking me questions. And then we watched a movie. Yesterday I didn't get to do anything because she dragged me upstairs the moment I got home and started asking me all these questions. Finally, I had time to sit down and actually go on the computer and relax, and she drags me away to watch a movie. 

Now, movies are my thing. I love movies. I'm the reason we rent like, five movies a week. Back in high school (that sounds SO weird!) I would hole up in my room, usually writing, and usually only coming out for food and movies. But I need alone time. I need uninterrupted time when I'm alone and can just focus and relax. That's why I usually stay up so late. Cause it's just me and my computer, my muse, my keyboard, my mind, my anything. Something that will do anything I say, something that won't judge me, something that will let me be completely and fully, me. So I need my time, or I get grumpy. But she left at like, 11, saying to go to sleep early because I was waking up at 9 to go shopping. Okay. Fine. Whatever. One more day won't kill me. 

We go shopping. We come home. Since we've gotten home, I've had to retreat to the basement to get ten minutes of peace and quiet. And even then I could hear people talking and banging around upstairs in the kitchen. Guys, it's quiet at night. The the quietest time of the 24 hour day, and I love it. It's peaceful. It's dark. The only con is that stupid flies think they can fly into your screen, and that's not fun. 

Sidebar- Flies are attracted to light, right? So why the hell don't they all fly into the sun?

I'm finally alone. Well, when I started writing, I wasn't. My mom used to ask what the hell we could do on the computer for such a long time. I know what I'm doing. I don't know what the hell she's doing.

See, I love my mom. But everyone has that breaking point... I guess why I'm so frustrated and upset right now is because this used to be my room. No one used to come in here. It used to be private. The only time I get that at York is at night, and it just kind of bugs me that I was basically kicked out of my room tonight. I think tomorrow I might just hide in the bathroom. 

Oh- the moment I talked about before. Yeah, so I can stand there for minutes, hugging my dad. We don't talk, we just stand there and hug. I love those hugs. My mom can't stay still for two minutes. She's either talking in a funny voice, trying to make me laugh, or she's playing with my hair or my ears, or moving while I latch on to her so she can keep cooking- the only time I really get her is when she's doing dishes and I spring an attack on her from behind- and even then she starts shrugging me off after less than a minute. So tonight we watched another movie, and after she's like, 'Okay, so now you can help me' which has been the prelude to her asking me another question about the computer. Now, when I show her how to do something, I explain to her why I'm doing it, and why it's doing what it's doing. So instead of just telling her to press this button and then this button, I try to make her understand why what she's pressing does what it's doing. My brother doesn't do that, he does everything himself, and if you ask questions he waves you off and says you don't need to understand or know it. It pisses me off. It's one of the reasons I can't stand living with him. And normally I don't mind helping my mom. I've been at York, ready to go see a movie, all dressed up and walking her through step by step how to resize a picture in Paint and save it. I don't mind. But it's just been getting a bit too much and I guess I haven't adjusted yet. Anyhow, she says that and I grumble something (cause I'm trying to be a good sport; I'm leaving soon, and I do want to spend as much time with her and my dad as possible). I think she probably got that I was starting to get a little antsy about it cause she comes over and hugs me. The 'talking in a funny voice and poking me in the stomach' kind of hug which at that point, only worked to piss me off. 

And here's the thing. In my mind, I thought, 'If she really knew me, she knew that what I needed right now was just a quiet, loving hug.' And then she stops speaking in baby-talk and just hugs me. Like, calm, quiet, serious- One of those hugs that I'm always trying to get out of her. I love it because she knew that's what I needed at that moment. Exactly what I needed. 

I'm really going to miss her.

It doesn't help that I've been in a really weird mood lately. I don't know why. There are times when I just want to crash and cry for no real reason. I just want to reach out, for someone to be there. You know how there's always someone in the relationship who loves the other person more? Nine times out of ten I feel like that person. And I'm not about to go and unload my (mysteriously, seriously nonexistent) problems on someone who's hanging out with people, cause that's not cool. I wrote a chapter, and there was that 'lifelines' line. I don't have a person like that, and I'm not that person to anyone. I'm not sure that there is that kind of person out there. Well, I guess there is- that's the person you marry. I liked being in a relationship. I liked the security. But only when I'm like this I relish it, I think. Other times, it just freaks the hell out of me. I don't know. 

Anyhow, I've blabbered on (to myself) making no sense whatsoever, so I think I'm done. I'm feeling better already anyways :) 

I wrote a song. I'll post it up when I tighten it up a bit more. 

Oh. And the gifts thing. I like giving gifts because they make me happy. If they're expensive, but you're going to love it, so be it. I'm not saying that I want anything. Well... I'm saying that sometimes it's nice to be reminded that even if you're thousands of miles away, you're not forgotten. And all I know is me. And my weird mood. Hopefully this'll make sense and I won't sound like a jackass when I read this wherever down the road. 

Good luck future Sandra, reading this and meddling your way through it. 

Past Sandra, peacing out. 

Hey-o!