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Sunday, January 13th, 2002
7:16 pm
I think it's time I wrote just to write, and because no one who knows me personally reads this, I think I can here.

I have a hard time imagining Neal with anyone else. I really hate the thought of him and Marissa at Heartthrob together. I hate the picture of them together, him in the burgundy that we both know drives me wild. I hate that he told me about his distraction pool escapades.....he told me he was shirtless, for christ's sake. He told me his friends girl slapped his ass. He told me he acted seductively, and he won the game. Neal won the fucking game with his overwhelming sex appeal. And he told me his friends girl's mag voted him sexy guy of the month. I could have told him that. I could have told him that the mere sight of him makes me weak in the knees, makes me want to do anything he asked me too....makes me want to be his slave. I love him...I really do, and I've been trying for weeks and weeks to get over him, to somehow pull myself together, and it's not working. I'm in Chris' arms, I wish I was in Neal's. Neal's familiar, comforting scent floating around me, his soft kisses in my hair or on my face... I see myself at the dance with Chris, who has no familiar scent, who I barely know, who I cannot tell my heart to.....and I want it to be Neal. I want him to be there because I have the most fun with him. I want it to be him...because I love him. I love how he treated me. I loved being around him. As stupid as this seems, I really do believe that we belong together.

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Thursday, November 8th, 2001
9:56 pm
I haven't updated this journal in a long, long time. I'm going into a deep bout of moodiness and depression. I have ups and very low downs. Neal's there all the time for me, even though he doesn't always know what to do or say. Rachel and I...god, things are weird with us. Like she was all depressed last week, and now she's sort of on a crusade to keep me from killing myself. I'm so mad at myself...I cut up my arm again [the left one], and it's not very pretty this time. And the scars that are already there are really obvious. I'm going to stop. I'm not going to cut myself anymore. I don't want more scars, and more than that, I'd like to be able to stop having to wear this goddam sweatshirt any time I wear a t-shirt. It's terribly hot in the American Studies room, much too hot for a sweatshirt, but hell, what am I supposed to do? Add that to the fact that I feel really fat right now. And I am overweight-- I've been overweight my whole life. It's just how our family is. And Mom and I are going to go to this place where you can buy second-hand excercise equipment, and look for a treadmill. I seriously want a treadmill-- it's something I can do while I watch movies that doesn't take focus, and it doesn't make you so awfully tired. So if I get one, I'll get loads of walking in, and they say walking's the best thing you can do for yourself. That and I have to stop eating so much. Back to drinking more water for me, and filling up with water when I'm not really hungry so I don't fill up with something unhealthy like pizza or something.

I want Neal. Like..if I was ready to lose my virginity, he'd be the one I'd want to give it to. He's just so beautiful and loving and kind and ahhhhh..... Really, it doesn't take a lot of thought about him to make me really turned on. I'm just so afraid that some day we'll be sitting, watching a movie or something, and I'll do something awful, like grab his dick or something like that. That would be terrible. I doubt I'd do it, but still, the possibility is there, and it's the posibility that scares me a little.

Monty Python's Meaning of Life is not nearly as funny as Life of Brian or Holy Grail.

current mood: horny

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Sunday, October 21st, 2001
7:14 pm
I've been having a really strange few days. Like...God. Neal came over on Friday before rehearsal, and we watched "Three To Tango" and "Down Periscope." We've gotten into the habit of whenever he comes over and watches a movie with me, he sits in the armchair, and I lay on the couch. I kinda wish he'd join me on the couch once and a while so I could hold his hand or something. So we were getting ready to leave for rehearsal, and of course I kissed him. But that was as juicy as it got. That night, we were talking online, and I got into a really weird mood. Like...I almost told him [online, even! Good lord] about Phil. I mean, God. I felt really blatant, very blunt, and like I really wanted to do something just for shock value alone. Yeah. So I said lots of silly, ridiculous morbid things about how it would be fun to hang myself with a thin enough rope that my body weight would cause decapitation, and about how it would be a really interesting death to die of self-inflicted alcohol poisoning. Yeah. Insanity.

Yesterday was tech run, and my mood took a nosedive after lunch. I went off and sat in the light booth alone for a while. Phil was sleeping in the theatre all through the lunch break, which was really long for whatever reason. I wanted Neal to show up in the light booth, and give me a hug and an opportunity to kiss him while there was no one around. 'Course it didn't happen. So I just got more and more...uck during reheasal. It went in an absolute value graph....from good to really bad, and then back up a little. End of rehearsal, Neal and I were sitting on the step of the last row of chairs, and I decided to lay down on the floor, with my head towards him. He patted my hair, and I grabbed his hand. We weren't actually holding hands....the tips of our fingers were touching and that's all. Then I just decided I needed to hold his hand, and I just grabbed it. A few minutes later, I brought his hand to my lips and kissed it. Later, I sat up, and switched hands. It was nice. I needed that. And even later, he went downstairs to put some prop away, and I followed him downstairs and back into the prop area, where I asked him why he put up with me, kissed his neck, and hugged him. Ah....I should have kissed him where he could have kissed back. But I'll make sure I get some of that tomorrow. I'm meeting him early before rehearsal so we can clean out underneath the light booth once and for all. I'll make sure I get a little love before or after. Sometime, 'cause I need it. Badly.

I spent three and a half hours with Neal on the phone last night after a bad fight with my dad. I just spent the first hour crying, whining, and mumbling self-depricating words into the phone. He started singing "You Are My Sunshine" to cheer me up. God...what a sweety. He said, after I started wondering aloud why people put up with me, that I was a good person, at least good to him. Ahh....do I feel lucky? Yes, yes I do. Baaaah.....I wish it was one-way glass that was on the light booth window. But it's not one way...grrrrrr.....ah, well. What can ya do?

current mood: ???

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Tuesday, October 16th, 2001
6:41 pm - ...apprehensive...
Seems that Phil's taken a new mistress to replace me. It's Tammy's best friend. I'm not supposed to know, but Rachel told me, probably to prove what a scumbag he is. Mrah. I'm not concerned. I've got Neal, and I'm through dealing with Phil's relationship issues. I haven't talked to Neal in a couple of days, and he was sick yesterday and today [he finally updated, letting me know], but he said he'd be online tonight after mime. Unfortunately, mime doesn't end for another hour, and it will take him at least a half hour after that before he'll be online, but talking to him later is better than not talking to him at all. I think I might have scared him with my little confession about wanting to kiss him for a long time, and that something I liked about the technicalities of "togetherness" was that it was like he was giving me permission to kiss him. I haven't gotten a response regarding that, so I think I might have freaked him out a little. God, I hope not. I have had a bad feeling about that post since I put it up, but there's nothing I can do about it.

current mood: anxious

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Monday, October 8th, 2001
7:34 pm
Come on, Neal...get online!!

current mood: expectant

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7:15 pm
I'm kinda nervous about this whole thing with Phil. I sent him an email today [he sent me a message saying his server was back up] telling him about my decision that we shouldn't be physical any more. I'm quite anxious to hear his reply. Hopefully, he'll reply tonight and I can read it tomorrow morning before school. I'm going to be a nervous wreck by then.

But I've got Neal to comfort me, although I can never tell him about the fling with Phillip. He'd lose all respect for me, and probably for Phil too. And I couldn't live if Neal thought of me that way.

current mood: nervous

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Sunday, October 7th, 2001
7:38 pm
I was looking at roses online today. I could never afford the ones that you buy from the online retailers, but then I was at Super Target earlier tonight, and I looked at the roses there. I think the most beautiful ones are the cream ones and the peach ones. Peaches & cream, if you put them together in a bouquet. Ahh....I found myself wanting to buy one for Neal. All of a sudden I feel very differently about him. I'm very much in love, I think, and I think it's partially due to the fact that I've kissed him. There's a little less of a barrier there now, and a little more of my feelings are let loose. At least, that's my theory. I know what I feel, but it's just so hard to describe it. I see now that I've wanted and needed Neal all along. And now I have him, and....life is good.

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2:52 pm
I've been thinking all day about that kiss Neal and I shared...and I decided that, in that kiss, Neal stopped being the naively adoring little boy I suppose I've always thought him to be, and he became something else. He became my boyfriend, which all of a sudden meant something much more to me. Neal stopped being what I always thought he was, and became something more mature, and infinately more beautiful than I could have realized him to be on my own. He's totally matured in my eyes now. Neal has stopped being a boy, and now I see in him a man that has never appeared to be before. It's just so intense...

current mood: high

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12:26 am
Ahhh...Neal asked me out at the Homecoming dance tonight. ::sigh:: Forget Phil. I kissed Neal, and it was just as good, if not better because I love him and he loves me. Forget Phil, using me for ass and play. I danced every slow dance with Neal tonight, and it was sheer heaven. Forget Phil, who was just all about the physicality without any love. Neal loves me, and I love him, and we're together and I feel better than I've felt in a long time. Forget Phil. I don't need him. I need Neal instead, and I've got him now, and things are looking up.

I didn't even cry because of "Crash." Amazing.

current mood: blissful

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Monday, October 1st, 2001
2:36 pm
I'm a piece of meat on your meathook:
Cut off a chunk whenever you'd like some, sir--
I'm only here to serve.

There's plenty of me here, so carve off what you need today.
I'm special --you told me so-- I'll regenerate
my losses for you.

And I am a pretty piece of flesh, aren't I?
So pretty --you told me so, remember?-- and you wondered
why no one else had me for their own.

Remember, take as much as you like-- take more!
--I certainly have no objection, sir.
I'm the one on the hook, remember, not you.

current mood: aggrieved

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2:34 pm

'You're like some rock the sea is swallowing--
what is it that brings on these moods of yours?'
Nothing mysterious: the ordinary pain
of being alive. You wouldn't understand,

though it's as obvious as that smile of yours:
an open secret. Nothing ever grows,
once the heart is harvested . . . You ask
too many questions. No more talking now,

my prying ignoramus, no more words,
however sweet your voice. You call it Life,
but Death is what binds us, and by subtler bonds . . .

Come here. The only lie that comforts me
is the refuge of those lashes-- let me sink
into the silent fiction of your eyes!

--Charles Baudelaire

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2:33 pm - Fuck.
Rachel confronted me with the whole Phil thing today during lunch. She thinks he's using me for booty, essentially, and she's afraid that my emotions are going to get messed up and tangled in this. And...I couldn't hardly defend myself against her. She challenged me to tell her one valuable thing I've learned from him after I said that I like to be with him because I learn things, and I couldn't come up with something she approved of. I told her that I learned about Chaplin, and she cut me off right there. I mean, come on-- I'd never seen the movies, I'd only seen the shorts, and I didn't care much for them. The movies are amazing...I love them. But she thinks that it's all a game, and that he's a hornball, and she's afraid of his temper, and when he gets out of control he can be violent. And admittedly, that's not something I've spent much time thinking about. It crossed my mind a couple of times. But it's so hard for me to believe that it's all because he wants to fuck me stupid. I mean, there are little things that he did and said that make me believe something very contrarian to that. But now I can see how it's all just plain shallowness. All of it. And yet...I can't believe that fully. I really can't. I mean, am I just his plaything? Is he only emailing me and making conversation to make me think that I'm actually his friend? AM I even his friend? Is he mine? It seems like an awful lot of effort. He gave me Baudelaire, and that was the act of a friend. Wasn't it?

How do I explain myself? CAN I explain myself? What the hell am I doing, anyway? He only started to be interested in me after we discussed the bondage thing during Love's Labours Lost, so maybe this all IS a game to him. Maybe I'm just a piece of meat.

current mood: confused

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Sunday, September 30th, 2001
9:23 pm - Fuck.
I don't get to see Phil this week. Liz's father is out of town, and he says that she gets his priority this week. Well...I'll see him tomorrow briefly when I drop off my costume and give him my copy of Hunger.

Yesterday I cried during Rachel's party. I think it's just because I see her and Hunter together, and they have something I can't even begin to comprehend. And...it's something I want and I just can't have. I just....I want to be able to love someone and be loved back. I mean, I have pieces of relationships with people-- I love Neal, and I know that Neal loves me, but it's platonic. Phil and I have a physical relationship [not sex, though. Not going there yet], but nothing beyond sincere friendship. I love Rachel dearly, and I know she loves me, but we're best friends and we mutually agreed that 1. it would be weird if we dated and it might ruin our friendship, and 2. she and Hunter are destined for each other. Ah...I don't know what I'm doing. It's all just sort of icky.

Well, I watched The Great Dictator today. Chaplin was beautiful again...I love that film. The reviews I read for it tell me that his political commentary and comedy clash in it, but even if the politics weren't right on, I thought it was funny as hell, and I enjoyed watching him, and hearing him as well. He's a lovely man with a lovely voice and beautiful talent. Thank God Phil got me hooked. I would never have gone to Chaplin without his advice.

current mood: tired

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Saturday, September 22nd, 2001
5:21 pm - Hrm...coming up with suitable lies seems to be my biggest problem...
I'm trying to set up another date with Phil either tomorrow night or Monday...if I can get him to drive me home, we can meet tomorrow because I can tell my parents I'm having a study group for the American Studies test. I think I have to get him to drive me home regardless of which day we meet...but I'm a little afraid of what will happen if he gets pulled over, since his licence is suspended, and he claims that every cop in Rochester knows him. Being pulled over would end our meetings, because somehow my parents would find out and punish me and never let me talk to him again and life would be over.

Or maybe I'll just take my chances.

I mean, the email I had waiting in my inbox this morning actually ended with the following line:

"BTW, when can I see you again?"

Notice, he said "when can i see you again?" Which means he wants to see me. I'm having trouble explaining this, but he's not treating it like we're just meeting, talking, and making out. He's treating it a little nicer than that...and I'm completely inarticulate today.

I bought my Homecoming dress today. It's very pretty...it's a two-piece dealie-- bright, almost iridescent blue, with long skirt, and strapless top. I'm having the top altered a bit, since it's a little too open on the bustline, and as I am a rather full girl [not just chest...everywhere!], I still have to wear a strapless bra with it [yuck!!], which I need to go buy, since the one I have isn't going to work [I don't think]. But I'm all excited about my dress, since it's the first thing I've been able to find that a. looks good, and b. isn't black. Now, I love black. About 70% of my clothes are black, but I get a little tired of wearing black to every dance. So I'll be able to go pick it up on October 2, since it's being altered and will be ready then.

Yay, I have another party to go to in about twenty minutes!


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Tuesday, September 18th, 2001
5:17 pm - Today sucked.
Don't even ask. It's been awful, and I don't even have much of a real reason to be so upset. But I am.

So, here's my day:

Both periods of American studies I spent in Mrs. Wolfe's office, curled up in her rocking chair, crying like a baby while my classmates participated in their Puritan role-play. Fuck Matt Murphy. Fuck him up the ass and into Hell for the mindfuck he's been putting on me. I skipped French and tried to sleep in the health office. I tried to read my Baudelaire during my open hour, but I couldn't concentrate on it. My mother asked about the cuts on my arm and I had to make up a story involving Mr. MacDonald making us run around in the woods picking leaves for Biology and my arm was cut up on some thorn bush. At least my day is over, and while I'm not planning to get any homework done, I'm going to watch Edward Scissorhands and drink green tea til I pass out...I wish I could pass out. It would be much more pleasant than staying awake.

current mood: gloomy

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Monday, September 17th, 2001
4:27 pm - ah....the face of happiness.....
I told Shanley today about how Phil said that she was one of his favorite students. Her face just lit up like a 1000 watt bulb had been turned on inside her head. It was so adorable...and even though she's a little disappointed that he doesn't think of her in a "fuck me, please" kind of way, she's kind of pleased that he loves her work. She's promised to come to the Masque with me on Friday for rehearsal, just so she can say hi to everyone.

I know I ought to say something about the recent horror in NYC...but I'm fully saturated with the media, and it's very hard for me to comprehend that possibly five thousand people have ceased to exist. Five thousand lives have stopped. Five thousand will never again go home to their wives and husbands, and five thousand will never meet their friends for dinner at their favorite Italian place on the corner. Five thousand won't ever read a book, or hear music, or go on picnics with relatives and eat potato salad. Five thousand families have to live with a big chunk of their structure viciously ripped out and incinerated. And the whole world has to live with the knowledge that we have somehow let this happen because we didn't stomp out the terrorists when they first emerged.

::gets off soapbox::

I'm done now.

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Sunday, September 16th, 2001
8:47 am
Crazy thing....just read an email from Phil, and he says that "The Seventh Seal" is one of his favorite movies of all time. I spent most of the last email I sent him raving about how wonderful I thought it was, since I finally saw it yesterday. Didn't hardly need the subtitles, since Norwegian and Swedish are close enough, and I know enough Norwegian. He says I ought to see "Wild Strawberries" which is another Ingmar Bergman. I'll try to find it, although I don't know if I'll be able to. Wha-- gotta get to church now.

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8:42 am - weird dreams....
I remember weird dreams last night, but I don't remember any content. The night after the party [umm....Friday/Saturday night] I had lots of dreams involving Neal. I hadn't seen him in a week. He's so pretty...I'm going to think that forever, and I keep having these thoughts that he loves me unconditionally. I think he might...I know I'm almost there, loving him selflessly. Now, if only I'd felt that way while we were dating a year and a half ago, maybe it would have been more worthwhile. But I get to spend another play with him, every Friday rehearsal until dress week when it's six hours per day. Then the performances, which take no less than five hours total. I'll have two days of school performances [unless we sell out and add a third like we did for BFG] with him. Him and I. In the light booth together. It's going to be great. He's a wonderful guy. He's essentially hormoneless....you know how many times I gave him chances when we were dating? Nothing ever happened.... of course, I didn't instigate anything because I was too shy, too unself-confident. If we were dating now, I'd be all over him. In a strictly chaste way, mind you. But we're not dating again, and I think he still has a thing for Rachel, my best friend. Neal...pretty Neal. Delicately boned face with high cheekbones, bright smile, electrically charged blue eyes one or two shades lighter than Rachel's, short blonde hair, wavy when short, curly around his face when longer, long arms with delicate hands and nice fingernails, taller than I, huggy and generous with himself, warm, and comforting when I need him. Neal. I love him, I really do.

current mood: happy

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Saturday, September 15th, 2001
7:42 pm
The realization hit me on last Sunday...in a few years, I have to be an adult.

I have to grow up, get a job, a car, and support myself. I have to live alone, pay bills, drive myself everywhere [learn to drive first...never really seemed to matter], and become an adult.

I'm scared of it.

I don't want to be an adult. I don't want to grow up, as cliched as that sounds. I don't want to have to take care of myself.

And I'm already scared I'm going to end up alone.

current mood: scared

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7:17 pm - all shook up, and not being poured..
I've come to realize that I'm not writing terribly interesting things in here... While I originally created this diary to record all the trivial things that happen to me regarding my relationship with Phillip, I've discovered that I'd rather have this be my total alias online. My other diary [] is me as viewed by my friends...which means I don't tell them about the business with Phil at all. But at the same time...I keep adding friends to this diary, because it's a side of me that's a bit more [in my opinion, anyway] interesting. Well, I might just have to start putting ME on this page, instead of keeping it as an account of Phil and myself. I have other space for that...i.e., my diary on disk. All of my diaries, one day, will be put together and published. That's my lifetime goal. And it's an attainable one, even. I have no doubt of it happening.

Now, for [hopefully] the last time, a section devoted to Phillip. I'm probably seeing him tomorrow evening. I'm getting tired of making up lies to my parents, but right now it's necessary. They really don't approve of him in a way that I would have them approve, and while his licence is suspended [God help us all, I wonder what silly thing he did] I have to find my rides elsewhere. Possibly when he gets his licence back, he can pick me up after sixth period at school-- seventh is my open hour-- and we could do something before rehearsal. But I know that we both prefer darkness outside to sunlight. Well....when winter comes, darkness will come faster. But so will the cold, so we'll have to find somewhere indoors to be...although I have no idea where that will be. So far, we've just been hanging out on the top of the parking ramp...a great place, actually. Lovely view of the city...and we both so love the idea of a city.

current mood: devious

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