2006 NaNo... untitled just yet

-: Part 10 :-

2006-11-17T22:10:00.000-05:00

I head into my bathroom, turning on the light and standing in front of the mirror, looking at my reflection for a long moment. I don't really look any different, but my eyes look hazy and distant. I shake my head, and get together all the supplies for my nightly routine: cotton balls, make-up remover, washcloth, face wash, tweezers, moisterizer. But it's a routine, so it's not long before my mind starts wandering, my hands don't need my mind to concentrate on them to do such a frequent set of motions.
     It was so weird, and almost creepy, and so out of nowhere... and while I can make up a list of random people it could have been, it really doesn't sound like any of them, and it's weird that--- well I guess it's not weird that they got my screenname, it's not like I make a secret of it or anything, like it's on my MySpace and shit, I don't really care if they know it, I can always block people if they piss me off but like... why would they even send me a message like that? Almost like a threat... well not really a threat but a warning. It's still all so weird... What bothers me most of all is why? Why send me something like that, why say what they said... I haven't said a thing to anyone else about it, I almost messaged everyone and asked if they'd gotten it too, but something held me back, I don't know... but why should I even be worried, am I really that different from my friends that they'd turn on me like that? Of course I'm not... am I?
     ...I would never confess it to anyone else, but somewhere inside, I feel like I am sometimes. Like all those times I just tune everyone out, when they're going on and on about hair or guys or clothes or just random gossip... there are days where I just totally lose interest, and can't make myself care about anything really. It just feels like so little, all that's in my life, like there's school and people and homework and sometimes soccer games, and that's like it. Even thinking back on today, I don't feel like I've really accomplished a thing except survive... and thinking back farther, that's all I can remember ever having done, for years and years, I don't know when it started being like this, but it's all I can remember. Just going through each day, never really thinking about where I'm headed or what's behind me, just one distraction after another, tv and shopping and gossip and drama about who's seeing who... Why isn't it enough for me? It's enough for everyone else... They're all perfectly content, except when they do bad on a test, or some guy dumps them or whatever. Like we all have bits of family drama here and there, but it's never anything really huge, and there are always little fights going on between people, but nothing major, and everyone seems just fine with things. It's not that I'm mad at anyone or anything, I just... I'm so bored with it all, but what else is there? Maybe I do need a job, or something, at least if I was making money I'd be doing something productive. But that doesn't sound right either, it'd be like school, just doing something where the only point is doing the work, like it doesn't lead to anything, it doesn't do anything, earning money is like earning a grade, well I guess a little more useful but still, it's such an intangible thing, like it's all just concepts, there's nothing real there... what's going on with people is something real, but even that, like it's all in this little world inside a world, we never really touch what's going on outside, like we might watch the news or talk about stuff a bit but it doesn't really touch us or concern us, all that's ever really an issue is stuff going on within that one tiny little circle...
     The sharp pricking pain of tweezing my eyebrows pulls me back to earth for a minute, I'm leaned in close to the mirror, methodically neatening up the fine lines of my brows. Really, they're not bad, but it's better to keep on top of things like that, so they don't get out of control. Once that's out of the way, on goes the moisterizer, which stings a little over the small red spots where stray bits of eyebrows had been. I rinse my face with cold water this time (closes the pores back up; I used warm water on the first rinses, to let the cleansers in), pat it gently dry, and head back to my room.

-: Part 9 :-

2006-11-16T23:52:00.000-05:00

     Finally, the bus reaches my stop, I snake around through everyone's legs and backpacks and shit and get off the bus without a word - my headphones are on, such a great way to keep people from trying to make conversation with you when you don't want them to, even the old guy we have a bus driver picks up on that. The asphalt of the driveway is dark and dull, it clouded over a little before class let out, and now everything's lost its color and is all grey and drab. Even Dad's gardens look a little tired. I don't really mind though, I'm too tired myself for sunlight and things right now, by the end of the school day I'm always pretty drained... though lately, I've felt more tired than I ever remember being. I don't know. Maybe it's just all the essays we've gotten for English this year, or getting so angry at my math homework. I pull the house keys from my pocket, pull open the screen door, flip aside all the random keychains (most of which are old halves of "best friends" hearts and things) and grind the key into the lock, turning the knob and shoving the heavy wood door inwards. Out of the corner of my eye I see the vine wreath covered in brightly colored fake leaves bounce quite a bit with the sudden movement of the door, but I take only enough notice of it to see if it falls or not, and I'm inside and throw the door shut. "I'm hooooome!" I call out to the empty house, pleasantly creeped-out as always to hear the slight echo coming back to me. I push off my shoes, and let my backpack fall onto the floor while I hang up my coat in the front closet. I head into the kitchen to get a bottle of green tea from the fridge, and a small bag of pretzels from the cupboard, then flop down on the couch in the living room and turn on the tv. Flip channels until I find a rerun of "Friends" to leave on, and watch idly for a few minutes before going back to get my backpack. I run upstairs to plug in my cellphone and let it recharge, then finish my snack in front of the tv, sorting through the books in my bag to see what all I have to do tonight. Then I grab the remote, and flip around awhile, just zoning out awhile...
     When Mom comes home at 4:30, I'm upstairs in my room, in front of my computer. She calls up to say hello, I say hi back, and resume my chat with Kimmy.

     xXo kimmyz oXx: u there?
     racheycakes: yeah mom just got home
     xXo kimmyz oXx: k
     xXo kimmyz oXx: u ask if u can go fri nite? ;-)
     racheycakes: oh yea
     racheycakes: ill go ask brb

     ...I pause a moment, not touching my keyboard, and not getting up. She wants me to go with her to this party some senior's having, this guy she knows and says she went out with one time. I've seen him around, and... I'm not impressed. He's always hanging out with younger girls, and Carrie told me she saw him making out with a seventh grader. That's sick. Anyway, I've seen Kimmy drunk before, and it's really not fun, she flings herself all over everyone and it's ridiculous. Part of me wants to go, just so someone's there to keep an eye on her, but I'd be so bored. I don't want to get really drunk, I'd rather remember what happened, and beer tastes nasty anyway. Everyone just starts making out with random people and doing really dumb shit, and they all think it's hilarious because they're fucking blitzed, or they're trying to make a good impression so they laugh anyway, but it just gets so dumb.

     racheycakes: sry but i cant :(
     racheycakes: we have to go shopping 4 grandmas bday or sum shit early sat
     racheycakes: a "family day" y'know?
     racheycakes: and i have to watch chris fri nite, they have one of those business get-togethers at the bar or something
     racheycakes: wish they told me this shit earlier, wtf &grt;:(
     xXo kimmyz oXx: oh wtf thats retarded
     xXo kimmyz oXx: y didnt they tell u? :(
     racheycakes: idk its dumb
     xXo kimmyz oXx: yea
     racheycakes: we still going 2 the mall sun tho? mom said she'll give me some money for a new jacket :-D
     xXo kimmyz oXx: yea! :-D
     xXo kimmyz oXx: care and cheryl r coming 2
     xXo kimmyz oXx: and tara of course
     xXo kimmyz oXx: aaaaaaand...
     racheycakes: ?
     xXo kimmyz oXx: and someone else said they might b coming ;-)
     racheycakes: oh rly?
     xXo kimmyz oXx: mmhmm ;-)
     racheycakes: tell me already lol
     xXo kimmyz oXx: lol
     xXo kimmyz oXx: craig said he MIGHT meet us there
     xXo kimmyz oXx: at the food court at like 3
     racheycakes: aww :-*
     xXo kimmyz oXx: lol
     xXo kimmyz oXx: i wish
     racheycakes: yea rly

     ...I hate it when one of the guys shows up, the rest of us have to start watching what we say, and there's never much to talk to them about anyway, unless there's flirting going on. And I'm really not interested in Craig, and anyway Kimmy pretty much hogs him, and tries way too hard with him the whole time, she really like throws herself at him sometimes, it's kinda sad. I don't know. I know she really likes him and all, but... is he really worth this much trouble?

     xXo kimmyz oXx: gtg cell ringing i think its a boy :-D :-*
     racheycakes: lol ttyl
     xXo kimmyz oXx: bye hun

     The rest of the afternoon, I put off doing my homework, and chat a bit with Cheryl and Sam, catching up on things, since the only class I have with them is lunch every other day. And Brian messages me with a shitload of kissy-faces, and tried to flirt with me, but I shut him down pretty well, it was funny. Finally Mom calls me down for dinner, which is the usual meal-in-a-box and idle exchanges about everyone's day, then I head back to my room to do my homework. I start some music playing on my computer, and sprawl out on my bed with my notebooks and text books. While I'm trying to think of a way to start my essay for English, I see a message pop up on my computer - and I'm only too happy to have a distraction. Sliding into the chair at my desk, my fingers near the keys, about to tell whoever it is thanks for the interupption---
     It's a screenname I don't recognize. fyreflies? Who on Earth is that? That doesn't sound like anyone I know... and all they've said is "hi" so far. I check their profile to see if there's any clue...and it takes me a minute to read, the text is tiny, and white on a grey background:

     . i am moved by fancies that are curled
     . around these images, and cling:
     . the notion of some infinitely gentle
     . infinitely suffering thing.
     *
     .: preludes, t.s. eliot :.

     ...I have no idea, but that sounds pretty emo. Or.. not really, it's too pretty for someone emo, it's sad and beautiful rather than all angsty-emotional. I can't think of anyone who'd have something like that as their profile, there's no link to their myspace or their cell number or anything.
     I should say something back, it's been like a minute or two already.

     racheycakes: hi?
     fyreflies: you know you don't really have to hang out with people as mindless as they are
     fyreflies: something tells me you're better than that, you never sink to being as cruel to outsiders as they are
     fyreflies: why on earth do you put up with such brainless, petty banality?

     What? Who is this? What the hell is going on here? And what the hell does that--- I pull up Google and punch in "banality definition". There, first link on the page, web definitions for banality: "the state of being commonplace; something without freshness or originality, insipid". Well, alright, I guess sometimes they are, but who the hell has the balls to just say something like that, about my friends!

     racheycakes: who the hell is this
     racheycakes: dont talk about my friends like that
     fyreflies: you know it's true, though.
     racheycakes: theyre my friends! stop talking shit about them
     racheycakes: who the fuck are u
     fyreflies: they're the clique you've been attached to since kindergarten
     fyreflies: that doesn't neccesarily make them your friends...
     fyreflies: you should get away before you get hurt, they don't like people who aren't like them
     fyreflies signed off at 8:42:17
     racheycakes: WTF STOP TALKING SHIT ABOUT THEM!
     Autoresponse from system: User fyreflies is not currently available.

     It's all I can do to not scream out load in frustration - but Dad doesn't like us swearing (though of course he can), I'd get yelled at, and I really don't need that right now. But what the fuck?! Who the hell was that, and where the hell do they get off telling me shit like that, what the fuck! That really pisses me off, when I find out who the fuck that was, they are in some seriously deep shit, what the hell. No one talks shit about us like that, that's so mean, and so not---
     Alright, it's a little true. Some of the girls are pretty horrible to some of the, uh, less than popular kids. Like Jason, and that one girl that moved away last yeah, I can't even remember her name... but it's not like they're bad people, what the hell! Who does that, messaging someone and talking shit about their friends and then just disappearing. Fucking asshole, what the hell.

     It's still bugging me two hours later when I'm getting ready for bed, though I'd managed to put it out of my mind for awhile in between.

-: Part 8 :-

2006-11-15T22:44:00.000-05:00

There's this one house on a corner, almost every day the bus goes by right as a mom walks her two little kids, who can't be in more than like kindergarten and first grade, into the house, her hands holding theirs. It's really kinda sweet, it always makes me smile, and even when I'm in a really crappy mood, I end up having to smile, usually because one of the kids does something really cute or funny, like running to the side to chase after a squirrel or deciding to hop the whole way up the sidewalk. The house itself isn't in the greatest shape, it's still got wooden siding, which really needs new paint, but it's still fixed up really prettily, like the gardens are full and really nice, full of color in every season (even in winter, there's this one bush that has these bright red branches), and there's always something vining up around the front porch, like not in a run-down junky way but in an old-fashioned way. Today the mom and her kids are just climbing the steps to the front porch as the bus goes by - I don't know if they've walked, or if they use the car, I've never seen them in it, but I can't imagine they walk in the wintertime. It's cool enough out that she's got hats on the two kids, they're really cute hats with stripes and bright colors and pom-poms on top, and the boys (I think they're both boys) seem to be having a jumping contest, they're both hopping in place the whole time I can see them. (Which really isn't long, but neither are kids' attention spans, so I'm sure any contest wouldn't last much longer than that.)
I watch idly out the window the rest of the trip, there's a few people here and there but it's mostly old people out walking (slowly) around their blocks, or people of various ages walking dogs of various sizes. The bus goes around some of the more run-down areas before it goes on out by where I live, and it's kinda depressing here, the houses are in bad shape, and the road has a million potholes, I have to remember not to lean against the window at all or my head'll get smacked against it really hard, going over these streets. There's a lot of college kids on these streets, so it's always crowded with tons of cars parked along the sides, half the time on both sides, I have no idea how in hell the bus ever gets through. We pass by a small car shop, or something like that, it looks like some combination of a hardware place and a repair place, with gutted cars sitting around, and there's a crumbling concrete structure, divided into three stalls, almost, like a three-car garage with walls between, but there's no front to the building. I've never had any idea what it might have been, but whatever it is, it isn't any more - the walls missing chunks here and there, all overgrown with weeds and vines and even small trees on what was once the roof. I remember driving by it as a little kid, I asked Dad and Mom what it was, and Dad just said it was a disgrace, and Mom shushed him and told me it was just an old garage, but even then I could tell they didn't really know what it had been, just that Dad didn't like it. But Dad can't stand run-down old buildings in general, like he hates seeing old empty stores and rotting barns and whatever, he thinks it looks trashy and ugly. He gets kind of upset sometimes, seeing it, and grumbles about why can't they tear down eyesores like that, that sort of thing. Dad likes things to be very neat and orderly - big surprise, he's a dentist, so his being anal about it works out pretty well for him.

-: Part 7 :-

2006-11-13T22:28:00.000-05:00

Fall is just starting, and much as the chillier weather annoys me (I hate having to bundle up), I have to admit this town never looks prettier. There are so many old brick buildings and things, and the bright hues of the leaves complement perfectly - the rich orange-red alongside vivid scarlet and orange and yellow and gold, against a backdrop of the brightest blue sky. Only a few leaves have fallen yet, and the grass beneath is still a shimmering emerald, everything's in jewel tones on an afternoon like this, with the sun's rays so rich and warm. Days like this, I wish I could paint or do something artistic, to capture all this richness and hoard it all winter, when the world is colorless and it's not only the temperature that's grown cold.
The bus goes all around town before it gets around to going by my house, which is a pain in the ass some days, but usually it's just nice to see what all's going on, watching people and their houses and the store fronts. I always know what places are hiring, which of the random little shops and cafes have specials going on, and I knew about the new candy and ice cream shop that's opening soon before anyone else. (We're pretty excited about that one, diets be damned.) There's this one woman I see everyday when the bus passes Eagle Street, going by the type of harness on her goden retriever I think she's blind, and once I started watching more closely, I could really see how it's the dog making the call on when to cross the street and stuff. It's actually pretty cool, I'd be pretty damn nervous about trusting my life to a dog's judgement but he seems so perfectly trained, like I swear he'd be better at crossing streets than half my friends. (Though Carrie is notorious for not being able to cross streets, she's put all our lives at stake I don't even know how many times. She just picks exactly the wrong times to head into the street, and if the rest of us are talking or whatever we sometimes just follow automatically, and some car comes speeding up and we have to sprint out of the way. And then we scream at Carrie and make her buy us coffee that day or whatever it is we're out for.) There's this one guy always standing in the doorway of the bar on the corner of Eagle, smoking a cigarette. Since it's the middle of the afternoon, I assume he's the owner or works there or something - it's only on St. Patrick's that there are ever people hanging around the bars that early, and then they're there at like ten in the morning, it's ridiculous. And then there's those three boys, they've gotta be in like fifth or sixth grade, and they're always on their bikes, no matter what the weather. Not ten-speeds or anything, they're on the smaller bikes still, with pegs on both front and back tires, and they're always riding along on wheelies and hopping the curbs and trying to grind on a low wall or railing or whatever they can find. Usually in the few seconds I see them as the bus goes by, they're just riding, or doing small stuff, but every now and again I catch them grinding or something, sliding around the outside wall of the fountains in the square on their back pegs or something. It's pretty cool to watch, I've seen some of the high school guys doing the same sort of thing (only tons better), and in the summer when they're riding shirtless... they're pretty hot, they're not usually like really ripped, but they're really not bad. They don't quite beat the soccer boys, but, they're way better than the football guys, who Tara's pretty obsessed with. Maybe it's just that I get bored really easily with football, it's always stopping, they only play for like five seconds, and anyway you can hardly see the guys under all the padding and helmets and shit. How in hell can you tell if they're hot? Well apart from their asses, those pants are very nicely tight. But I'd rather watch one of the biker boys in baggy pants and no shirt any day. Everyone thinks I'm crazy, and yeah some of the biker guys are pretty skuzzy, but the ones that aren't are pretty hot, though most of them need hair cuts.

-: Part 6 :-

2006-11-09T23:05:00.000-05:00

     "C'mon, I'm not that easy, I'm not fucking Jackie. Anyway, so nothing really big happened, but, he seemed pretty reluctant to take me back home, he kept thinking of places we should go drive around or whatever, and we didn't pull into my driveway until after ten, Dad was pretty pissed when I came in but like I really care, y'know? But we sat in his car in the driveway for a few minutes, just talking a little, and there was so tension in the air, like he wanted to do something but wasn't sure if he should, so I moved over just a little bit, and let my hand brush against his, and he gave me this look like, oh God I went all limp and tingly, y'know? And we sat there a minute, just staring at each other, I almost completely lost my composure but I still kept a teasing little flirty look in my eyes, y'know, and after a minute he grinned and leaned over, and kissed the corner of my lips, and ran one of his hands over my hair (I'd let it down sometime that night, guys always like seeing a girl's hair down when it isn't usually, and anyway it looks sexier), and his hand went almost down to my boobs, but he stopped himself. And then he was like, "had a good time tonight", and I said I did too, and he asked if I'd go out with him again sometime, I was good company, and I said sure, to just give me a call. So then I got out of the car, slowly, of course, lingering a little, still looking at him, and I looked over my shoulder at him just before I went in the door of the house, gave a little wave, and he didn't pull out 'til I was inside. Then Dad bitched at me a little but whatever, like I really cared then, right? It was a pretty good night," she finishes, her eyes sparkling and an almost smirking smile on her face.
     "Are you sure that's all that happened?" Carrie asks suspiciously.
     "I'm sure!"
     "Reeeaally."
     "Uh-huh! Really, though, I think he really started feeling comfortable with me and shit, like we really talked a lot, and about what was going on in his life and stuff, and it really felt like he kinda wanted to go farther, but we were already in my driveway and had school today, and anyway he was already driving around past nine o'clock, not that anyone really pays attention to that rule anyway, like who's really been caught for it? But I guarentee he's going to call me again soon, and it'll probably be a weekend, when we can have more time." She winks, and everyone giggles softly, all thinking the same thing.
     "Hey! What're you girls plotting today, huh?"
     "Hey Brian!"
     "Hi Brian!"
     "Why are you always so suspicious of us?"
     "Why shouldn't I be? You're always all giggling and talking close together and shit, makes a guy worry a little."
     "You think we're talking about you?"
     "Of course! Why wouldn't you be, I'm the hottest thing around, you should be talking about me! Who else is there to talk about?"
     We all laugh, rolling our eyes or shaking our heads. "You're such a jerk, Brian." "What lets you have such a huge ego?" "Yeah really, what mirror are you looking in?"
     "Well fine!" he retorts, biting back a laugh himself. "I'll just move on to somewhere I'm more appreciated. Your loss! ---Hey there, ladies!" he calls to the next table over, turning his attention to Nikki and everyone over there (who we're friends with as well, of course, just there are more of the volleyball girls there and more of the soccer girls here).
     "BRIIIIIIAN! You know we love youuuuu!" Carrie cries cheerfully, blowing him a kiss.
     He looks back over his shoulder and winks at her. "Of course you do! I know that."
     Carrie grins sweetly, and goes back to eating her sandwich - looks like hummus again, she's trying to cut some meat out of her diet, and peanut butter has way too much fat. "He's such a cutie. I couldn't ever go out with him, but he's so cute."
     "Oh I know, he's not really dating material but he's so much fun to hang out with."

     We finish our lunches, Carrie gets her ice cream (a vanilla Dixie cup), we chat a little more, and head off to our afternoon classes. I stop at my locker, grab my books for the afternoon, and walk with Kimmy to history. On the way, she tells me some story about how Carrie got caught making out with some guy, I forget who, I think he was a ninth-grader anyway, during class the other day. Apparently they both snuck out of a study hall or something, and were making out in a corner somewhere, and one of the assistant principals happened to walk by and totally ripped them out for it, made them sit in his office while he lectured them about appropriate behavior for school hours and shit. Not that it's the making-out that bothers Kimmy - it's who Carrie was making out with, some completely random guy, though I seem to remember Carrie talking about some younger kid the other day, I forget how she met him but she said he was pretty cool. Kimmy's pretty set on older guys, though, she's pretty adamant that all the ones our age (and God forbid, younger) are so ridiculously immature... which's usually true, but still, there can always be exceptions, I think. And really, Craig's hardly a year older than she is.
     The rest of the day goes by pretty uneventful - we get yelled at once in history for whispering back and forth (we sit next to each other), after class Kimmy walked with Craig to their next classes, and by the end of the day, I found out he'd asked her to a movie Friday night. So much for Dan - but I'd seen this coming, it's Craig that Kimmy really has her eye on, it's been that way for like a year now. Anyway, she's staying after for soccer practice, so I'm on my own for the bus ride home. Brian's about the only other person I could talk to, but he's usually too busy flirting with all the slutty little ninth-graders, who'll do about anything to get the attention of an older guy, especially one as good-looking as Brian. But I'd rather have a few minutes to myself anyway, the bus ride is usually a good way for me to wind down after the school day, and just zone out for awhile.

-: Part 5 :-

2006-11-06T23:57:00.000-05:00

     "Well yeah, like that one French teacher who always hits on all the guys?"
     "She wears the most tacky, gaudy earrings, all the time."
     "Like old-lady earrings, and then short skirts and capris and shit."
     "It's so bad."
     "Oh I know!"
     "OH GIIIIIIIIRRRRRLS!!!!!" We all turn toward the loud call in a familiar voice, over-dramatic as always - Carrie, her blond hair in a messy ponytail like mine, her eyes sparkling behind heavy eyeliner and eyeshadow, and a gigantic grin all over her face. "I PASSED MY CHEMISTRY TEST!!!!!!"
     We burst into applause, and Kimmy, laughing, jumps up to hug Carrie. Carrie is reknowned for her borderline flamboyant behavior (she wants to be an actress - not that anyone needs told), and is known almost equally well for her inability to pass tests. She's tried everything there is to try, but even when she can answer every question on the study guide the night before, once she gets that test sheet in front of her... everything's just gone. I feel bad, she tries so hard, but just nothing at all works. Luckily, it's not like she wants to be a doctor or something, and for all she forgets in anything else, she can memorize lines like nothing, so I guess it all works out. She never lets her grades really bother her, but she's always so excited when she does well, which I totally understand, y'know?
     "Thank you, thank you," she murmurs in false humility, still beaming like anything. She lightly tosses her purse, which sails in a graceful arch before landing in the very middle of the table, then grabs a chair and scoots up to the table, chattering loudly about how she squeaked by "all on partial credit, isn't that crazy??? I didn't actually get anything right, but, I was almost right a few times, and that was enough, isn't that great??? I'm so excited, I'm totally buying ice cream for dessert, I so deserve it. I don't care about my diet today, I'll skip breakfast again tomorrow to make up for the ice cream, but I'm going to enjoy it sooo much today."
     "You know if you go off it for even just one day, though..."
     "Oh shut up, I know, I know. But I'm not really stopping, just, indulging a little. I think I've earned it."
     "They say it's important to let yourself indulge a little now and again, remember? That way you don't like suddenly binge on everything when you have a bad day." Tara's point is met with sage nods all around the table - we've all known someone this has happened to.
     "Hey, has anyone else heard about that one new diet? I saw this commercial the other day..."
     I lose the trail of the main conversation at this point, as Kimmy leans over to murmur softly to me, her eyes flitting about conspiratorily. "So, Craig stopped at my locker before lunch."
     I raise an eyebrow. "Really?"
     She nods, a sly grin pulling at the corners of her lips. "Yep."
     "What'd he say?"
     She rolls her eyes, sighing in aggrevation. "Nothing. Of course. Y'know? Can't admit to anything, too much pride, like every other guy. He was all casual, asking why I wasn't online last night, even though my away message clearly said where I was, y'know? So lame. But I told him anyway, and he was all calm and shit, just like "oh, well that's cool, you have a good time?", and I told him yeah I did, asked how his night had been, he was all "oh I just sat around watching tv and shit, nothing really special or anything," but Carrie told me his away message was all like "talking to a girl on the phone" and a stupid little wink smiley. Fucking Jackie, I swear I could wring her little neck some days. Such a bitch. She gave me the most smug look in the hall today, I was ready to punch that stupid grin of hers. God she pisses me off. I think she's still holding it against me that she didn't get into Student Council this year, like I switched everyone's votes or some shit. What the hell. Yeah people know I don't like her, but, it's not like I took their hands and made them write someone else's name instead of hers, y'know? She acts like it's my fault people don't like her, when really it's just that she's a fucking slut, stealing guys away from everyone, being so fucking easy they can't resist, y'know? God."
     "SECRETS DON'T MAKE FRIIIIIEEEEENDS!" Carrie cries out, throwing a piece of popcorn over to land between Kimmy and I. Everyone laughs, and Kimmy rolls her eyes.
     "C'mon, it's nothing you don't already know, I just didn't want the whole cafeteria to hear."
     "Ooooo is it about what you and Dan did last night?"
     "Yeah, c'mon, spill."
     "You haven't told any of us what happened yet, only Rach and she doesn't talk enough."
     "Like I could ever get a word in edgewise, with Kimmy around."
     "Well don't start talking now, Kimmy needs to!"
     "C'mon, tell us!"
     "Alright, well, lean close, because I don't want the whole fucking school to know, alright?"
     Immediately everyone scootches their chairs inward and over toward Kimmy, the whole table condensed to about half the table - it's the middle of the period now, and anyway, it's a few weeks into the school year, so it's not like anyone random is going to come over and try to find a seat with us. Everyone's found a spot already now, and it's not going to change at this point in the year, except with like the potheads and people like that, but they're never anywhere near us so whatever.
     "Alright, so, during history yesterday he asked me if I wanted to go out for coffee after school. Well after after-school, he had a math test to make up or something, whatever. Anyway, so he comes by my house at four and picks me up." (There's a short positive murmur - we like that he has a car and a license. We're all pretty close to getting them, some of us have them, but cliché as it is, there's still something pretty awesome and hot about a guy picking up a girl in his car and taking her out.) "Luckily Dad wasn't home yet, he have wanted to meet Dan and talk about his car or whatever, and scare the shit out of Dan in the meantime, y'know? Mom didn't really care, she's usually pretty cool about me going out, anyway she was tired after work and Jenny was being bratty. Anyway so I met Dan out in the driveway, I'd been watching for him but waited a minute to come out, y'know, so I wouldn't seem too eager, right? But we talked in the car, he cranked up the radio, he's got a pretty decent system in there, he was telling me all about it but I don't know shit about audio systems so I don't remember, but he was really proud of it. So we drove out to 'Beans and went in, aaand... he wouldn't let me pay for my drink."
     "Awwww!"
     "Oh that's so sweet!"
     "Isn't it??? I argued a little, but I let him, it was so cool. Anyway so we got our drinks and found a little booth in the corner, and just hung out and talked awhile, it was really cool. Mostly just about school and shit, and he totally agrees Jackie's a fucking slut, by the way, he'd heard stories about her too. But he said Craig's a pretty good guy when he wants to be, he just gets distracted easily, like he never focuses on anything or anyone too long, that's why he dropped out of the football team after last year even though he did so well, he just got bored. And, I don't know, like we bitched about math class and some of the teachers, and talked about the big soccer game coming up, and he said he might go out for basketball this year, but he's not really sure. His parents are totally on his back about keeping his grades up so he can get into a good college, but he has no idea where he wants to go yet or anything, though they think he should start applying like now, what the fuck, y'know? Poor kid. I'm sure he'll be alright, though, he seems like he's pretty good at getting his shit together when he needs to. But yeah, we hung out there for an hour or two, then we just drove around awhile, with the radio cranked up, then he got hungry so we went through the drive-through at Burger King... oh I know, disgusting right? But he was driving so I told him to pick, I just got a salad which he thought was pretty funny, but he gave me a few of his fries, which was cool. Oh and he didn't pay for my salad, I told him he was paying enough for gas, driving us all around y'know? And then---"
     "You pulled off to the side of the road and totally fucked in his back seat?"
     "Oh my God, Carrie!"

notes

2006-11-06T23:28:00.000-05:00

I think I'm getting a better handle on where things are going now, I've been hitting nice spurts in the writing tonight. I'm just trying to sketch out her world right now, and show where she's been, who's around her, what her life is like.. and, really, what's said at a lunch table pretty well sums up a group of people.

Also, I have gotten mad suggestions on music from people on last.fm, and Megs has sent me like.. dude idek, she's sent me like fifty mp3s to listen to, Killers and Panic! at the Disco and Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance and it is fantastic. She has given me nearly my entire soundtrack. :)

I've kept my ears and eyes open the past few weeks, picking up gossip from the high school kids I work with, and, uh, stalking around livejournal kind of a lot... Doesn't seem like the kids at the high schoolers out here, where my story's probably set, use lj a whole lot, but there again lj's generally got an older user base, like my age and older. The high school set uses myspace, which, really, I refuse to do. I may yet nose around there sometime for some research, but, I'm getting enough off the ljs from kids at the high school *I* went to, including a pretty big altercation in the cafeteria recently, which I questioned Mel on and am probably going to alter and use. hee.

Which brings me to the point I wanted to make - my apologies in advance, but I am raping my memory for things to use in this story. Already, there's all sorts of snippets from my own childhood, from people I know (or know of), situations and personalities I've had around me at some point or another. (I'm still sorry about those love notes...) But I think they're scattered and random enough that it's not even an issue, it's mostly just bits of things that happened in school. Why make up what you already know? Also, names are not generally meant to reflect aaaanyone at all, I'm just ganking what names come to mind, so if you see yours and it's a less-than-nice character's name, that has absolutely NO bearing on my opinion of you. ^^; (There is one exception, but his character hasn't even talked yet, though I have plans for him later.. and that's someone who'll never read this, but whom I'll always miss. This isn't the first time I've used his name in something, and I doubt it'll be the last.. my way of keeping his memory alive, I suppose. Miss you still, Jay.)

Also, yes, I didn't post anything yesterday. I didn't write more than like two sentances yesterday. ^^;; It was just one of those nights, I was drained and wasn't getting anywhere, and just lay down in bed early and listened to some more of "Fellowship of the Ring". (Never really did the audio book thing before, but Tom does often, and it's actually very nice when you want to just relax and rest your eyes awhile, so I've borrowed some of his.) But, I have tomorrow off, and I very much intend to make up for all my slacking - already, I think I'm alllmost back to where I should have been at the beginning of today, uh.. ... ..hmm. So here's hoping I get an awesome idea somehow tomorrow, I really shouldn't stay up too much later, I'm freaking beat.

-: Part 4 :-

2006-11-04T23:08:00.000-05:00

     Thank God, it's finally lunchtime - a substitute filled in during study hall today, and for some dumb reason, he thought we should actually be studying during it, instead of talking. Who the hell does homework in the middle of the school day? So we passed notes awhile, trying not to get caught, but it pretty much sucked. I stop at my locker, turn the combination, and lift the handle up hard so it doesn't stick. Check the mirror on the door, push a few strands of hair back, my make-up looks alright still, though everything always looks shitty under old fluorescent lights like these. I slide my notebooks and textbooks into place at the bottom of my locker, I'll stop by and get the ones for my classes after lunch later, I hate dragging them around when I don't have to. I pull the brown bag with my lunch off the top shelf, and turn to look in the mirror again, not paying much attention to the photos of my friends and I plastered all around it and down to the bottom of the door, but adjusting my ponytail just a little, then closing the door with a quiet slam.
     I stop by the vending machine to get something to drink, pulling my dollar taught so the machine won't bitch at me, and punch the button for a bottle of water. A moment later, it comes tumbling down loudly, even over the constant fuzzy roar of cafeteria conversations, and how on earth is that a good way for something to work, to just drop bottles like that? I grab the bottle out of the drop-space, and head over to our table, toward the middle of the room, where someone can always see anything interesting that starts happening. I set my bag on the table and pull out a chair between Kimmy and Tara, saying hi to everyone, and sitting down.
     "Ugh, I was just telling everyone how much study hall sucked, didn't it Rach?"
     "It really did, that was ridiculous. I can't believe she was going to leave a note for Clune, like we were first graders! I'm surprised she didn't start giving us checkmarks on the board."
     "I used to get so many of those in first grade! I talked too much, I was always giggling with somebody about something, and I got check marks allll the time."
     "Yeah, I always got those "excellent social skills" and "talks too much in class" comments, my parents had no idea if it was good or bad."
     "I got those too!"
     "I always got such bad comments from my math teachers, it was always "shows potential but does not apply self", stuff like that."
     "Ha, I never even got the potential part, it was always just bad grades."
     "Yeah but everyone always liked you, Tar, even back then, I remember everyone always fought over who got to sit next to you at lunch."
     "I bet it was because I always had two packets of fruit snacks, and Lunchables, and stuff, everyone always wanted to trade with me."
     "Nah, it was because you had such pretty, long hair, it was all the way down your back, and perfectly blond, and all the boys were in love with you and all the girls were in awe of you. I know I was!"
     "Really??"
     "I remember that too, I tried to grow my hair that long too but it wouldn't go past my shoulders."
     "It was such a pain to brush it though, y'know? I was so happy when I cut it short in third grade. I did get a lot of love notes in elementary school, though... Raymond used to write me one every day, with little x's and o's at the bottom! It was hysterical. I threw them in the trash though."
     "You bitch!"
     "That's so mean!"
     "No but remember, he was so "the bad kid", then, y'know? Like he always had to stay after in gym class, for... I don't even remember why, but he was always in trouble."
     "That never really changed, did it?"
     "Nope, saw him sitting in the assistant principal's office yesterday when I went to go make copies for Student Council, I don't know what he did this time but the secretary there was giving him the naaaastiest looks, it was pretty funny."
     "Which one, the old lady or the one who looks like a whore?"
     "The whore. She had on the most horrible bright red lipstick today, it looked terrible. And her tan! You know that's not real, it looks so bad!"
     "Oh I know, it's so gross."
     "I hate it when adults try to look like teenagers."
     "It's so disgusting, like they try to wear a halter and their boobs are all sagging."
     "Ewwww!"
     "Kimmy you're so gross!"
     "But it's true! They do and it looks so bad, I don't even understand how they can look in a mirror and think that they look at all attractive."
     "Maybe they're just high, they'd have to commit suicide otherwise, after seeing something that ugly."
     "That's so mean!"
     "Oh but you know I'm right."

-: Part 3 :-

2006-11-03T23:39:00.000-05:00

The jittery blue lines begin to sort themselves out and line up the right way again, and between the faint stripes lies Chris' heavy chicken scratch:
     Does Sam have practice today?
     Rolling my eyes, I set the paper on top of my notebook and take the cap off my pen. Yes - until 6. I fold the paper a little, and wait until Wheeler starts writing things on the whiteboard next to the projection, her back to me. I lightly toss the paper onto Chris' desk, one desk up and to the right of mine. He turns to grin back at me, mouthing a "thanks". I smile back, though really, I'm thinking about how ridiculous it is that he never even knows his girlfriend's schedule. I don't think a day's gone by yet this year that he hasn't asked me sometime during this class. I'm not on the team this year, but Sam, Kimmy, and Cheryl all are, so I pretty much always know when they have practice or a game, and what's going on with everyone playing. Still, he sees her like every morning before class, there's always a few minutes to hang out in the hall, and he's always at her locker, so I don't know why he doesn't ever know. Half the time he carries her duffel bag for her, and still asks me... whatever.
     Whatever it is I'm doodling, it looks like shit. I'm going to start coloring it in, and see how far down the page I can go, not letting the tiniest bit of white show... I'm so bored. I'm bored doing this, but I don't have anything better to do. Last time I played something on my cell phone, I got caught, so I'll wait awhile before I try it again. I mostly understood how to do the homework, enough to pass the quiz on Monday alright, and anytime I listen in to her too long I start dozing off anyway. And if I watch her too long, she'll get used to me doing that, and the occasional glances I use to make her think I'm paying attention won't work anymore, because she'll think I watch her constantly when I'm paying attention. Screw that. Dad would flip if they ever got a call from school, or an iffy comment on my progress report... but I'm too careful for that to ever happen, anyway the worst I ever do in class is not pay attention, and that's how half the other kids are too.
     I can hear Chris whispering to Melinda, who's sitting in front of me. Her shoulders are shaking - she must be trying really hard not to laugh. I can't quite make out what they're saying, but I think I heard Jason's name. I feel kinda bad for that kid, he's always getting picked on by everyone, and I'm really not sure why. Well alright, he does dress pretty badly, and he talks about really weird stuff when he does talk, which isn't very much. He was on my bus when we were in elementary school and his house looked really sketchy, like there was a dead car next to the garage, all torn up and rusted out, and just random junk, y'know? Like there wasn't enough room in the house (which was kinda small) for all the crap they'd accumulated, him and... I think he has like three brothers or something crazy. And the yard was just sort of a dumping ground for stuff, it wasn't kept up nicely at all. The house is a little apart from the ones near it, it's not like it's in the nice part of town to begin with, so I guess it doesn't matter as much that it looks so crappy, but still, it looked pretty iffy. He's just... I don't know, awkward I guess, and whenever you start talking to him you start to feel awkward too, I don't know why, it's kinda weird. But he always brings up really obscure subjects, or references some random person no-one's ever heard of, or something. Like I think the history teacher likes him pretty well, he gets along with adults better than people his own age I think, but even then he's pretty closed-up. I can see him up at the front of the room, his hair's a mess as always, like I know guys never comb their hair (that they tell us about, anyway), but he's one of the ones that really should, y'know? It's just like everywhere some days, and the cut isn't right for him at all, he's got what could be a nice shade of blond hair, if he'd just put some highlights in, and cut it so it wasn't hanging in his eyes all the time, stuff like that. I don't understand how people can be so completely oblivious to their appearances - that's the first thing other people notice about you, that's the first impression they get, and sometimes the only impression you ever get a chance to make. So shouldn't it say a lot about you? I guess maybe it does say something about you, if it's all unkempt and shit but still, all that says is that you hate taking showers, or you're too poor to go do laundry. That's not something you want to tell the world. Like there are some people who can do the natural look, without make-up and without really styling their hair, but that's only a very few people, like movie stars and models, people who are the most beautiful people in existance, spend hours and hours in make-up and hair styling before the camera takes a single shot of them. I don't know, I just think it's crazy to leave things like the condition of your skin completely to chance, when there are so many things you can do to keep your appearance pleasant. Like even over the summer, I made sure my tan stayed nice, and took care of my skin and hair and everything, even when I was just going to be sitting around the house all day. Like I didn't put a ton of effort into it, but I didn't just like roll out of bed and then be ready for the day, that's disgusting.
     I hear the clock hands sticking, and glance up out of reflex. Yep, it's nearly nine o'clock, like I thought. The clock always sticks right around that last minute of the hour, it hangs up and shifts back and forth a little, clicking a bit, for like a whole minute, before finally moving over to the next little black line. God I stare at that clock way too much in here, I could tell you where every little scratch on the convex plastic covering of it is, could tell you exactly what time the sunlight coming in through the windows behind me puts a glare on it so it's hard to read... ugh, this class is so incredibly boring! It's not even a month into the school year, and I've already got the goddamn clock on the wall memorized. That's really sad. Then again, like every clock in the school, and in the elementary school too I think, are the same old ones, white face black numbers and hands, little notches to mark the minutes, and probably half of them stick like that right near the hour... they must've gotten these in fucking bulk back in the fucking sixties, I've seen the same damn clock in one of the ridiculously old film strips they showed us in driver's ed. Film strips! God I hate this town, I can't believe they still have those things here, that we still use fucking film strips, have those film reels in the big round metal canisters, the projectors for them... God that's so sad, they're like fifty years old. Get a fucking DVD player.
     Is that the heat on what the hell! It's not fucking winter yet. And they say there's no money for new soccer jerseys, so don't waste money on heating the building in the damn summer! I think there's a hair tie in my purse... there it is. There, my hair's in the tastefully-messy sort of partial ponytail that always looks really good, keeps it off my neck so I'm cooler now, or will be soon. Cool enough air still seeping in from the edges of the window. Just need to remember to keep my purse away from the heater, I'd be really fucked if anything in there melted.

-: Part 2 :-

2006-11-02T23:59:00.000-05:00

     I hate when I get into such dark, bitchy moods. I don't really like being that cynical, but I guess I sometimes am. I'd rather see the good in people, but, I guess knowing what goes on behind my friends' façades, I have to wonder what's going on behind everyone else's, and... well, I already know what plots are behind everything Kimmy does, but it's not like she's devious every minute of her life. I'm always not really myself in the morning, though, I guess. I get this weird tense feeling around people sometimes, it happened a lot right after summer break, too. I didn't really see anyone much this summer, everyone was off at camp or family vacations, a few people were working. But in a way, it was really kinda nice. I just hung out around the house and town and things, did a little shopping, some babysitting, and watched all the movies in the family collection with my little brother. And I didn't have to worry about dressing up perfectly, or how my hair looked, or what I said, or who was looking at me or who wasn't looking at me, or if what I thought aligned just right with those around me... school's so freaking stressful, it really is. I swear working 9-5 would be easier. At least then you can just work, and it doesn't matter if you've got the current shade of eyeliner as long as you do your job right.
     "Rachel? What was your answer?"
     "Uhm---" A quick glance at the blurry overhead projection, an almost instantaneous sift through Mrs. Wheeler's cramped script in a fat-tipped blue marker, and I see what problem we're on. A glance at my own neat rows of problems (with huge angry Xs scattered between them), and I spit back an answer to her, looking up at her as I do so, with just the right mix of uncertainty and honesty, to make her believe I did the work (which I did, mostly) and did it myself, so I'm not quite confident of it but gave it my best shot.
     She nods and smiles. "That's right. Now, in order to get that answer, you had to..."
     I always seem to get stuck with math either first or second class in the morning. It's way too easy to doze back off again in here... Mornings are always mentally foggy for me. I remember when I was little, maybe four or five, I used to get out of bed so early, just to watch the sunrise... I think I can still remember how it looked. I'd asked to have my room painted a light pink, "porcelain pink" but it was almost neon where it splashed a little against the white ceiling, it was so vivid. The sunrise I remember had almost that same color near the edges of the clouds, with a light orange of a similar brightness linking the lavenders and roses with the pale gold of the early sunlight peeking around the soft edges, which were pulled smooth rather than cut ragged. A much more full sort of softness to everything, the colors and the atmosphere, than there was this morning at the bus stop. Being that young, I probably didn't pick up on subtleties the way I would now, but still... I wonder what I thought that morning? I remember standing in my room, looking out the window... I think I remember translucent white curtains, but I'm not sure if I'm making that up... I remember the layout of the room, the heavy old dresser (was it the one with a mirror attached? I'm not sure); the head of my bed was under the lowest of many shelves, I remember cracking my head on it more than once, sitting up suddenly in the morning or during the night. I remem---
     My eyes focus again, looking for whatever made that light tap on my desk. There's a small wad of balled-up looseleaf. Gotta be from Chris, that pain in the butt. He's always slacking off, and always trying to distract me into doing the same. (And no, he's not remotely my type, anyway he's dating Sam.) Of course, I'm not paying attention anyway, but my grades are good enough that he thinks I do, and I let him think so. Pretty good bargaining chip, y'know? I'll copy over some homework answers, or loan some study-notes, and get a favor or two when I need it. I slip the paper into my hand and then under the desk, slowly and quietly unfolding it against my jeans. I grimace a little at each crinkle, but gently and carefully, manage to keep it pretty quiet.

-: Part 1 :-

2006-11-01T21:57:00.000-05:00

     "Another day, the story goes, he walks inside and has a drink, meets some friends. I'm sick of this script. I'm convinced we can do better than the rest of them; we have everything we need, right here. Empty eyes, information passing through. I won't ever accept what they made for me and you - I'm convinced we can do---"

     "Hey Rach! What're you listening to today?"
     "Oh hey, Kimmy. How are you?" I hit the stop button on my iPod and pull the headphones from my ears, wrapping them carefully around the pink fake leather of my iPod case, then slipping it all into my coat pocket. I'm not going to try to answer her question - she's never heard of a band as small as Tomorrow is Forever, and she'd just give me a huge list of all the things I should be listening to, forgetting that I've downloaded and listened to it all already. It takes her longer to get tired of whoever's popular than it takes me.
     "Ugh, I'm so tired. I tried to stay home sick today, but my mom said I couldn't go to practice if I didn't go to school, and we have that big match this Friday so I can't miss any this week, y'know? But I was up a little late, remember how Dan asked me to get coffee with him after school? Well, he picked me up at four and..."
     I nod once in awhile, with a few "really?"s and "yeah"s here and there. I've honed the art of pretending to listen down to a freaking science, between zoning out in class and sharing a bus stop with Kimmy. She's really nice and all, and it's really good to always have someone to sit with on the bus, but, some mornings I just really don't feel like talking... or, in this case, listening. It's Dan she went out with last night? I guess she's over Craig, then, for now anyway. Or maybe it's just to spite him, since he went to the movies with Jackie last weekend...
     What the hell, I should just listen to Kimmy if that's all I'm going to think about, at least then I'd be up-to-date on things. It's way too nice out this morning to really listen to her, though... it's still pretty warm for this early in the morning in September, I really didn't need this jacket. (But, it matches everything else nicely, and Kimmy said it looks good on me, so I'll keep it on.) All the colors are still muted, the sun's up but still pale and soft, more white than daylight usually is. There's a bit of dew on the lawn, except where I walked across it, where the blades of grass are now darkened, without the tiny droplets there refracting the light. It still feels like summer, the trees are rounded and full with all their leaves emerald green, the daisies and whatever else Dad planted in front of the house are still blooming. The grass is too short still, he just cut it yesterday, I wish he'd let it grow a little more than he does, it's so much nicer to walk through or lay down in when it's longer... though, really, when we're out tanning, Kimmy always reminds me to lay on a towel, so I don't get red dents all over my skin from the grass and the ground. Not that we'll be tanning much longer, but I'm sure we'll still get a few days in before it really gets cold out. We've found lotions that work better now, but self-tanner never looks quite as good as a real tan, and most of our parents won't let us go to a tanning salon. I get so frighteningly pale in the winter, it doesn't suit me at all and I hate it.
     "There's the bus!" Can't help but tune back in to her when she says something that loudly - I'm just lucky it was something important, and not her just bitching about Jackie again. Jackie's always been nice enough to me, but I can see how the Craig-thing could really get to Kim.
     The bus pulls up, and the color really sort of irks me today - it doesn't fit in at all with the softness of the morning colors, it's like a giant WalMart smiley face stuck in the middle of an impressionist painting. Ick. But I climb up the grit-filled steps anyway, squeezing and slipping between backpacks, legs, arms, and people chatting across the aisle, until I reach our usual seat toward the back. (I always get on first, so I get the window and Kimmy gets the aisle seat.) I swing into the seat, and adjust my books and purse on my lap, snuggling a little into the corner of the seat and the window. It's not too cold today, the window's always a little chilly, but the... what are these seats made out of, anyway? For all the years I've stared at it, and picked at the places kids have sliced it, I have no idea. The colors vary from bus to bus, sometimes dark brown, sometimes that weird aqua-mint-pale green, but it's always the same plasticy rubbery stuff that's probably supposed to look leather-ish, with its random wrinkles and creases. I don't even know why they use that instead of just plain--- yes I do, it probably wipes clean really easily, from little kids puking and drinks spilling and everything. I wonder how many times this seat has--- alright I'm not even going to think about that, I won't be able to sit here anymore, as it is I'm going to be squirming this whole bus ride now.
     I'm really tempted to pull out my iPod again, but they'll tell me I'm being antisocial again, so I won't. She's talking with Brian--- flirting, really, like that's any surprise. I wonder if the guys she hangs out with realize that everything about her is flirting with them, designed especially to get their attention and toy with it? It's pretty impressive, how well she controls all that. She knows exactly what her strong points are, and knows how to use them best. She talked me through her make-up one day, and it's insane, I mean I know how to do it and do it well, I always look alright too, but she adds touches that you don't even realize you see. Same goes for what she wears, she'll never buy anything unless it flatters her body perfectly. Which really only makes sense to do, but I mean perfectly.
     ---I'm still tuning her out, and still thinking about what she's saying anyway, I might as well listen.
     "Don't you think Jackie's such a slut though? God I don't know why you even talk to her, she's always all over everyone. I heard she even kissed that girl - do you remember her, she moved away like right at the end of the school year last year, but she was always dressed all goth and shit, and writing poems about the rain or whatever. But Kendra told me she saw them kissing at some guy's party last year, isn't that sick? God she's such a slut, she went to the movies with Craig last weekend, and I guess she slept over at some other guy's house like the night before."
     "She kissed that girl? That's kinda hot."
     "EW! You're kidding right? Who'd want to see that?"
     "Girls kissing is fucking hot!"
     "You're sick, what the hell, I'd never do that."
     "You're not even curious? C'mon, I bet there's some girl you'd totally make out with."
     "Oh God, no way! Would you make out with some guy?"
     "Oh no goddamn way, that's just gross."
     They both start laughing, and I force a smile, pretending I'm amused, too. It bothers me a little, I know no-one around me is like actually homophobic or anything, it's just something they joke around about, but sometimes it makes my stomach knot a little, hearing jokes like that. I don't know if it's that I secretly agree with them more than I should, or that I secretly disagree with them more than I should...
     "But you did make out with Katelyn over at Brandon's the other night, didn't you?"
     "Well, she's not a guy."
     "I didn't say she was!"
     "Her tits are way too hot for her to be a guy."
     "Don't talk about her like that! I don't need to hear that!"
     ---I can't listen to this anymore, I start idly staring out the window again. The morning's even more impressionistic now, it's not quite cold enough for the windows to be fogged (even with the number of people talking in here), but they're smudged and dirty enough to blur things a little. My vision's a little fuzzy anyway, my contacts haven't quite settled in for the day, or I'm just too tired... Watching the houses gets really boring, I've seen them all too many times before, and the lawns and gardens and trees all look the same from here... o I'm sort of watching for people, and sort of watching the patterns of the gravel and crumbling pavement at the side of the road, and sort of watching the sun peeking through the trees in everyone's yards. I keep watching to see if the sunlight does that thing where it hangs in midair, like the rays are visible, pale shimmering fabric hanging between the sky and earth... but there's no fog or anything at all this morning, guess the conditions just aren't right. I wonder if that happens with smog? I would think it would, it's really just the light catching at stuff in the air, but...
     "Rach?" It wasn't my name that brought me back, it was the jab she gave me with her elbow. "What do you think?"
     "Huh? Sorry, I zoned out for a minute."
     She laughs lightly, though I know she's annoyed I wasn't listening to her. "Brian thinks I should go out with him, just to piss Craig off, what do you think?"
     I shrug, not really sure of what reaction he'd have (if any), and not really caring what she does - she never "dates" anyone for more than a few weeks, and it really doesn't put any kind of damper on what she does with other guys. "I think just making out with some other guy in front of him would be enough to piss him off, or maybe just telling whoever he's going to go out with that night something embarrassing about him in school that day."
     "Perfect!" she cries happily, grinning excitedly, her eyes shining. "That would be so much fun, I can definitely come up with something good."
     "Like what?" Brian asks with a smirk.
     "I'm not telling you! Not unless you have a date with Craig tonight."
     "I already told you I'm not fucking gay, what the hell."
     "Are you sure?"
     His hand darts across the aisle as he reaches over to tickle her; she shrieks and flings herself back against me (thank God my iPod's in the other pocket). "STOOOOOP!"
     "QUIET DOWN BACK THERE OR I'M STOPPING THE BUS!" The bus driver's voice is rough as ever - we see him smoking every day, whenever the bus is stopped outside the school. The whole bus goes dead silent for about five seconds, before one of the younger kids starts giggling, and then conversation resumes. I let the voices blur into the background, smudged as the moving scene outside the bus window, though the colors sound much less varied and bright...

note

2006-11-01T18:55:00.000-05:00

I'll worry about making sense of chapters and things after November is over - for now, I'm just going to post whatever I get written each day. I stop when I hit a stopping point, either a change of scene or I hit a wall or something pulls me away from actually writing.

*refrains from procrastinating any more and plunges in to the actual novel-writing* WOOOO NOVEMBER!!!

---oh by the by, the journal idea is scrapped for now. I started writing during my lunch break, I had my mp3 player on and the lyrics of what I was listening to struck me as appropriate for my character, so I just went with it and found HOLY CRAP I AM WRITING MY FIRST SCENE!!1!1 And, uh, it was all present-tense, her pov as she's experiencing it. So, we're going with that now. *has to laugh* My story's already wrested control of itself away from me, it's going to be an interesting month...

revision one

2006-10-31T10:44:00.000-05:00

Tom had typed out a huge response, but it got eaten by the 'net demons, so he gave it to me all in person. Gist of it was: I'm trying to do too much all at once. And, as usual, he's right. So, we're scraping the fact that she's just moved into a new place (note: I'd meant a new house in the same town, I forgot to specify that, not that it matters now), it's not really needed. I just needed a reason for her to've not found out about the space before, and I think her having been in a different bedroom or something would be reason enough. Switching bedrooms as you get older isn't that uncommon, so that works just fine.

Tom also took the basic elements of my story, and completely recast them, and rewrote the whole thing as a movie I was watching the whole time he was talking. He thinks in movies - in plot, in rising action, in drama, in camera angles, in new twists. I think in songs - mood and atmosphere, emotion, the small details that loom large in everyday life, sketches and scenes. He's great with ideas, I'm better with pretty execution. This is why we're such a huge help to each other on projects. :)

His revisioning took my story in a very different direction, with the drawings on the wall taking the center part of things - that idea, he's always liked, and wants to make the center of it. His version of the story looked really, really great (again, I can never help but visualise his ideas), and felt the way my capstone grew to feel once I'd refined it to where I wanted it. But.. it didn't feel quite *me* anymore. So I'm going to do some pretty heavy thinking on it today, and see what I come up with. Comments suggestions etc still HUUUUGELY welcome, I could use the help. ^^;

intro/tenative synopsis

2006-10-30T18:57:00.000-05:00

So, here's my plan so far:

There is a girl, in her teens, probably 9th or 10th grade. She lives in a small, older town, and has been friends with the same people for as long as she can remember, everyone's been friends since kindergarten. I'm pretty sure she's beginning to feel she doesn't have as much in common with them as she's always assumed - they've all grown up together, but their interests and hers are matching less as time goes on, and she feels like there's got to be more than the life they all lead. So she's quietly trying to sort out where she wants to be, talking with other people, writing things down in a journal, and later online (on seperate accounts from the ones her friends know), trying to sort out her identity apart from all of them, still torn between loyalty to them and her past in general and what she thinks she wants to become.

I think she just moved into a different house (for reasons so far undecided), and has a room of her own, with a small attic attached to it. (Basically, Matt's old room on Iva Mae, with that little door in his wall that led into the attic space. I'm still in love with the possibilities of that little space, I spent the better part of an October in there the year we spooked it all up.) So she has a refuge of her own, at least. It's an older house, so while it's new to her, there's the strong sense of layers of past lives there, it feels warm and lived-in. (Yes I'm still in love with last year's NaNo/my capstone, hee.)

The part of this story I've had in mind the longest (the seed of which actually came up while brainstorming for BtD) is this: Part of the wall in the small, forgotten room is covered in wallpaper (yes I still need to rationalize this), which is just beginning to peel away. While in the attic one day, the girl happens to see a scrap of a drawing/painting? I think painting, beneath the wallpaper. Upon peeling it away, she finds a full image, probably several images linked together, a faded mural on the old wall. Not sure what exactly it's going to be of, but, something evocative, anyway, that hints at the person who painted it long ago.

Several more little pieces of someone who lived there before will turn up like this, gradually leading to the girl finding a full diary - of a girl, probably a few years older than herself, who lived in the room a hundred years before (yes I have a hang-up). Sitting in the same room, reading her story, she's obviously going to feel a very strong connection with the girl... and, being nearly the same age, there are of course going to be similar situations they each have to face, and the girl in the present will find comfort in the girl from the past.

I have a few specific issues in mind that I think they're going to both go through.. Sexuality's always fun, let's run with that - I'd like this girl to learn and understand all the things I'd never even considered in high school, yay for writing-as-therapy. ^^; Friendships changing, of course, strength enough to be yourself in spite of what others say.. alright this is all sounding very cliché, and truth be told, I'm a little worried about that, but, my strength lies in the specifics. I know I can go at something that's been done plenty of times before, and just by it being me writing it, with my, uh, unique outlook on things, I know it'll be something different.

I think I've finally decided and am going to go with first-person - thus, the journal she keeps. I don't know if I'm going to walk around inside her head or not. I like writing what someone else writes - people tend to be more coherent, and more florid, when they write than at any other time. (Alright so basically it's an excuse to let me occasionally slip back into my pretty writing, with touches of older usages and generous descriptions and artsyness.) In any case, the past-girl's diary will be in first person, and there, I can write old-fashioned to my heart's content. ;)

... ...and y'know, after writing all this out, I feel like I've a better handle on what I'm doing, this actually looks like a story! I'm still worried about the main character, worried about making her too much myself or too much Mel (apologies in advance, but you're going to get pestered with random questions, as you're my age-reference XD), but after a few good long brainstorms, I'm feeling a little better. Also, I've found that listening to people on the bus, or on campus, or at work, gives me all sorts of different personality types to reference and get glimpses of, so I think I'll be okay.

Commenting will be left open to EVERYONE (I handle spam manually), blogger account or no blogger account, named or anonymous, so pleeeease please please feel free to comment about anything at all. Suggestions and critiques are ALWAYS appreciated, and even the smallest praise will keep the fragile artist ego intact. Even just a note that you're reading will be a much bigger encouragement than you can imagine. Also feel free to scream at me to get back on track with my word counts - this is the first year I've had to balance writing with an actual job, as well as all the random chores of keeping an apartment something short of a pigsty. And I can't write during work, until with classes in the past, heh. ^^; Going to try typing it all this year, rather than handwrite and then type it all in, I think that ate up an awful lot of my time and energy in the past, and given that I'll be here (or probably occasionally on campus) when writing, there's no need to do it that way.

Wish me luck!!! I'm pretty determined to make it this year. :)

test post

2006-10-30T18:50:00.000-05:00

hmm. so it's pink. idk if it's going to stay pink or not, but it seemed the best fit for what I know of the main character so far. granted, that isn't much. so we'll see.