Tonight I Think I'll Walk Alone, I'll Find My Soul As I Walk Home
Sunday, Feb. 01, 2004 // 7:13 pm
The other day I went to the school library. I wandered through the poetry isle tilting my head to see the titles. I got an E.E. Cummings and Robert Frost book and some of the poems were good. I had only heard Robert Frost's name of a Simon and Garfunkel song. The poems did, of course sound older than what I have read before.
Then earlier, Neil called. He supposedly told Brittney that he didn't want me calling him anymore. Brittney is mad at me because I was shoving her in the hallways at school because I thought she was just throwing lies into my face. I didn't even stop to listen to what she had to say. Neil said he never said that and continued to tell me about his girlfriend's mother calling him 'honey' and how she wasn't home.
A couple of days ago, he thought I was lying about his girlfriend (by the way, her name is Lytisha) not liking him, because that is what she told me. I told him and then she said yes to his proposal of a relationship, so that made me look like a liar.
It's all he said, she said. I told him that I didn't want to talk and we got off the phone.
I watched Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and found myself strangly attracted to Carson, in a not crush way. He, of course, stands out because he is flamboyant and there is nothing wrong that that. He is sort of cute and so is Andy Warhol, because they look alike. Queer Eye is also totally addicting. I love the Carson and Thom sequences.
I'm also addicted to the song Temptation by New Order.
In fourth grade, I remember writing an essay that our whole grade had to write. It was on our future dream career. I wrote a whole essay about wanting to be a fashion designer. I do believe I read it in front of two fourth grade classes. I should dig it up later and read how well I wrote it.
I used to have crying fits if I had to read something in front of an audience. Last year, I didn't do a big report because I had to do it in front of the class. But yeah, I really did have these huge crying fits when I was younger. I still have a little bit of that anxiety going on, like when I read my poetry, I can't get the emotion out as I would like to. When Libby read my poetry to her mother, her voice was good for it. Mine was fast, loud, obnoxious and not free-flowing and emotional enough.
Her mother liked my poetry too and identified with my being depressed.
I made some new layouts I'm proud of today. Don't forget that I do design at Spy Designs.
