January 27, 2002 :: 1:45 a.m.
from your lips she drew the hallelujah
Ahhh. Finally. Since the kitty layout that I originally made for
Amanda didn't work out too well, I made her a different one. I just finished putting it up, and I'm happy to say that it worked out more or less how it was supposed to. Now my ADD is acting up, though - I want to redesign mine. I probably will within the next few days, because I'm bored, and I can, and I enjoy making pretty things.
I just realized that I haven't checked my email in hours. That's bizarre. Usually I'm obsessive and check it every 15 minutes. Hmm. Perhaps I've just been distracted. Or perhaps it was the fact that Mason and his beastly little cohort kept me off of the computer until about 9:00, and then I called Adam and we talked for an hour or so, and then I did Amanda's layout. Yeah, distraction. But now that I'm talking about it I really want to go check it. Damn seductive inbox.
I called Joe earlier to see about getting together to watch The Mists of Avalon, but he was at work. He should be getting off in about half an hour, actually. Oh well. No fun movie for me tonight. Instead, I watched a bit of TV with Tango, my more sedentary cat. I don't think she enjoyed my choice of programming, though, because she left after a while. When my parents got home, they cornered me to talk about college. It was rather scary and I felt very trapped. I'm not a talker, as in I don't talk about things. I usually don't feel that it's necessary to prattle on about my problems, or what's going on in my life, or what I'm thinking about. -- Note that this only applies to real life. I very much enjoy prattling on about those things in this diary. -- So when they came home and told me to sit down, because they wanted to "talk about life issues," I freaked out a little bit.
Rule number one of communicating with Amanda (me): Don't push me into a corner. It won't open me up. It'll just make me feel pressured and I'll be even less likely to tell you anything.
You see, a while ago, as I was pondering college, I decided to apply to Adam's school. For the longest time I held the opinion that there wasn't anything for me there, but as time went on I came to the conclusion that being as confused as I am, a liberal arts school is the best place for me to be. So I filled out my application. I haven't sent it yet, because I need to go see my guidance counselor and have him send a transcript and such. This morning I told my mom that I needed some help filling out my FAFSA, and I guess she told my dad. Prior to this morning, I hadn't told them that I wanted to apply, simply because I didn't feel it necessary until now. But when my dad found out he wanted to know everything, even though there isn't really anything to know. He has a problem with the fact that I don't tell them things. He thinks that it's because I don't want to talk to them, or because I don't want them to be a part of my life. I get very nervous and reserved when I talk to my dad, especially about major life things like this. I'm not sure why. I guess because he intimidates me. It's not so bad with my mom, because she's less scary unless she's drunk or really mad.
Rule number two of communicating with Amanda: Don't be scary. Don't lecture me when I say something that isn't to your liking. Don't raise your voice unless absolutely necessary, and don't ask me repeatedly why I never talk to you if you ever want me to talk to you about anything again.
Basically, they told me that they didn't want to feel pressured into going to college right away or even at all if that's not what I want to do. I do appreciate their concern, but I definitely, definitely, without a doubt DO want to go to college, and I want to go soon. I guess they assumed that I wasn't too anxious to go, because I'm usually not very motivated. I can understand how they would make such an assumption. It wasn't so much the message that made the ordeal traumatic; it was the way it happened. Being told out of the blue to sit and listen puts me on edge. Being told not to hide behind my glass of water or my hair and asked over and over why I never want to talk about things makes me extremely reluctant to speak up. It makes me want to run away and hide in my closet with all the clothes and discarded craft projects.
Blah. Enough about that. I've rather lost my train of thought. To summarize the rules of communicating with Amanda, you just have to treat me like a previously abused animal or a frightened child. It's that simple. Sometimes.
I'm in the midst of a Rufus Orgasm at the moment. I downloaded some songs off of soundtracks that I'm too poor to buy, and I am in heaven. *drools* I've listened to Hallelujah more times than I can count. I am, without question, very in love with this song. His voice is exquisite, and the piano... it makes me want to cry, in a beautiful, sad kind of way. I also snagged some Poe B-sides, so I'm way up on musical cloud nine and I don't expect to come down anytime soon.
This has been a bit long. I'm going to run off and dig out my astrology books, because I want to do a natal chart for a friend of mine. I've done just about everyone else's, so it's about time I do his. I'm such an astrology dork. I'm like, "you've got this moon sign and this rising, and oooh, you've got this in venus. and that's why you're like this." Yes, the depths of my dorkiness put the mariana trench to shame.
My typing is very spazmatic tonight.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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