Weaver: HA! Take that you stupid comment spammers! I enabled word-verification service. Thank you, Blogger help. That means that only real people can post from now on: you have to do the 'copy the word in the box' test now, which stops the automated services. I've never been so happy for that little word box. I'll never complain about it again. The mists are once again as pure as they ever get.
Voice: I see that you also deleted the comments from before. I feel much cleaner, thanks.
MistWeaver: You're welcome. The mists have too much spam already. And now, to leave them to go back to the real world. I'm hungry, and my father's in the kitchen, I think. He's lost in his own mists, and the voices that talk to him there aren't nearly so nice...
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Stupid Comments Again
MistWeaver: Okay, I give up. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU STOP STUPID PEOPLE POSTING STUPID COMMENTS THAT ARE STUPID ADDS AND HOW THE FUCK DO YOU DELETE THEM?!?
Voice: Woah, calm down. I honestly don't know. ALthough I'd really appreciat it if you found out.
Weaver: Dammit. Calm down. Calmmm. Downnnn. Woooooo. Okay. I'm calm. I'll try to find out. Talk to you later.
The Mists slowly close around her, not quite enveloping her form as the anger dissipates anything that gets too close. Swirling faster and faster, the Weaver disappears.
Voice: Woah, calm down. I honestly don't know. ALthough I'd really appreciat it if you found out.
Weaver: Dammit. Calm down. Calmmm. Downnnn. Woooooo. Okay. I'm calm. I'll try to find out. Talk to you later.
The Mists slowly close around her, not quite enveloping her form as the anger dissipates anything that gets too close. Swirling faster and faster, the Weaver disappears.
Back to School and to the Dogs
MistWeaver: Aye yi yi. Can you believe there are only a few short days until school starts?
Voice in the Mist: Considering I've been to school... Yes.
Weaver: I've been going to school for many years now, and have decided somewhere along the line that back-to-school should be a fun time.
Voice: That makes sense. If you dread it all the time, all that you'll accomplish is making a necessary event miserable for yourself.
Weaver: Well... yeah. There's that. There's also the fact that back-to-school means school supplies, which means pens and pencils and notebooks and stationary!!!
Voice: I don't think I've ever heard anyone get so excited over school supplies.
Weaver: Is it really my fault that I love pens? And staples and post-its and notebooks and binders and other such things too, of course.
Voice: I suppose you blame it on the fact that you're a writer, don't you?
Weaver: I suppose you stole my line.
Voice: I was sick of you saying it.
Weaver: Actually, I blame it on Pamela. She's to blame for everything. A kind of universal scapegoat. But the fact that I"m a writer probably had something to do with, too. Ever since I can remember, Staples has been my favorite store. I just love the aisles of business supplies. I especially love black pens and purple pens, with as fine a tip as is possible to get. Perfect for my small writing.
Voice: Wow. You're actually scaring me slightly, and I'm mist. I don't scare easily.
Weaver: Wow. That's amazing. But for your sake I'll move on to different things. Like where I am now.
Voice: On a beach somewhere hiding from the beginning of school?
Weaver: I wish.
Voice: On your computer.
Weaver: Oh, my, god. However did you guess that?
Voice: And the fact that you're typing onto the internet had abosolutely nothing to do with my conclusion.
Weaver: You're stealing my lines again.
Voice: So sorry. So, where are you typing on your computer. That's the question.
Weaver: Well, I set up another hammock (that makes 4 of them) in a spot in the shade and have been finalizing edits on Broken Wings. I'm on page 83 of 161 and determined to finish before school starts.
Voice: So why aren't you doing that now?
Weaver: I've been working on it for quite a while now, and I'm taking a break to write other things, like my blog. Unfortunately, my nails are now so long that it's getting harder and harder to type quickly. I'm probably going to go file them down afterwards, just for simplicity's sake.
Voice: Why didn't you do that before?
Weaver: Probably because I adore having long nails, and mine are gorgeous. I haven't had my file, though and they haven't been taken as good care of as I might have done if I did. They're going to break soon, if I don't do something. Also, there's the dog to think of.
Voice: The dog? What has that got to do with anything?
Weaver: Yes, the dog. Whiskey, my absolutely gorgeous (and tiny) mini-daschund. She's lying on top of me, curled into my breasts and fast asleep. Whoops. So much for fast asleep: she just kinda woke up from some noise and is giving her cute little sleepy barks at something, but unwilling to actually move.
Voice: A small dog must have an annoying yip.
Weaver: Actually, she's got a bark deeper than a lot of big dogs. And she's using it on that annoying Murdoch from across the street. A slightly bigger foofy dog who likes to pee on Leroy's head. And Leroy, mature terrier that he is, turns around and pees on Murdoch's head right back.
Voice: I believe I speak for many voices all over the palce when I say 'ew'.
Weaver: Oh, well. Nothing to be done about it. Murdoch just wandered off again.
Voice: Is that the same dog that pees on your newspapers?
Weaver: One and the same. And on that lovely note, I'll be back later. I must... take care... of a little problem.
Voice: Just remember that killing dogs is bad karma.
Voice: MistWeaver?
Voice in the Mist: Considering I've been to school... Yes.
Weaver: I've been going to school for many years now, and have decided somewhere along the line that back-to-school should be a fun time.
Voice: That makes sense. If you dread it all the time, all that you'll accomplish is making a necessary event miserable for yourself.
Weaver: Well... yeah. There's that. There's also the fact that back-to-school means school supplies, which means pens and pencils and notebooks and stationary!!!
Voice: I don't think I've ever heard anyone get so excited over school supplies.
Weaver: Is it really my fault that I love pens? And staples and post-its and notebooks and binders and other such things too, of course.
Voice: I suppose you blame it on the fact that you're a writer, don't you?
Weaver: I suppose you stole my line.
Voice: I was sick of you saying it.
Weaver: Actually, I blame it on Pamela. She's to blame for everything. A kind of universal scapegoat. But the fact that I"m a writer probably had something to do with, too. Ever since I can remember, Staples has been my favorite store. I just love the aisles of business supplies. I especially love black pens and purple pens, with as fine a tip as is possible to get. Perfect for my small writing.
Voice: Wow. You're actually scaring me slightly, and I'm mist. I don't scare easily.
Weaver: Wow. That's amazing. But for your sake I'll move on to different things. Like where I am now.
Voice: On a beach somewhere hiding from the beginning of school?
Weaver: I wish.
Voice: On your computer.
Weaver: Oh, my, god. However did you guess that?
Voice: And the fact that you're typing onto the internet had abosolutely nothing to do with my conclusion.
Weaver: You're stealing my lines again.
Voice: So sorry. So, where are you typing on your computer. That's the question.
Weaver: Well, I set up another hammock (that makes 4 of them) in a spot in the shade and have been finalizing edits on Broken Wings. I'm on page 83 of 161 and determined to finish before school starts.
Voice: So why aren't you doing that now?
Weaver: I've been working on it for quite a while now, and I'm taking a break to write other things, like my blog. Unfortunately, my nails are now so long that it's getting harder and harder to type quickly. I'm probably going to go file them down afterwards, just for simplicity's sake.
Voice: Why didn't you do that before?
Weaver: Probably because I adore having long nails, and mine are gorgeous. I haven't had my file, though and they haven't been taken as good care of as I might have done if I did. They're going to break soon, if I don't do something. Also, there's the dog to think of.
Voice: The dog? What has that got to do with anything?
Weaver: Yes, the dog. Whiskey, my absolutely gorgeous (and tiny) mini-daschund. She's lying on top of me, curled into my breasts and fast asleep. Whoops. So much for fast asleep: she just kinda woke up from some noise and is giving her cute little sleepy barks at something, but unwilling to actually move.
Voice: A small dog must have an annoying yip.
Weaver: Actually, she's got a bark deeper than a lot of big dogs. And she's using it on that annoying Murdoch from across the street. A slightly bigger foofy dog who likes to pee on Leroy's head. And Leroy, mature terrier that he is, turns around and pees on Murdoch's head right back.
Voice: I believe I speak for many voices all over the palce when I say 'ew'.
Weaver: Oh, well. Nothing to be done about it. Murdoch just wandered off again.
Voice: Is that the same dog that pees on your newspapers?
Weaver: One and the same. And on that lovely note, I'll be back later. I must... take care... of a little problem.
Voice: Just remember that killing dogs is bad karma.
Voice: MistWeaver?
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Irritation and Fun and Tiredness
MistWeaver: Man, am I exhausted.
Voice In The Mist: Why's that?
Weaver: I volunteered at the Calgary International Reggae Festival from about 10 AM this morning to 8 30 PM. Was forced to stay until 11. Didn't get home until 12. It is now 12:19, and I'm exhausted. I hate waking up early.
Voice: Indeed. So, was it worth it?
Weaver: Fuck yeah! I had a fine time. A boring time, most of the time, but a fine time.
Voice: Why boring?
Weaver: Since I was the youngest person selling tickets (and the latest, thanks to Fil), I got the fun job of putting bracelet wristband things on people so that they can go in and out. How fun! Not. The most irritating and boring job ever. I like working a till. It's fun. I don't like ripping backs off of bracelets and putting them on people. At least later I did security: put on sunglasses, look menacing, and occasionally chase someone away from area I'm guarding. Still. It's still monotonous and grunt work.
Voice: You do grunt work for Brian.
Weaver: He pays me. And his work is not monotonous and boring. It requires skin.
Voice: Skin?
Weaver: Er... Skill.
Voice: I hope that's what you meant. So what's the 'fun' part?
Weaver: Well, you know how I couldn't write because there was no computer with which to do it?
Voice: Yes...
Weaver: And you know how I really needed a laptop to write on?
Voice: Yes...
Weaver: Wellmamaagreesandshegotmeandkaiandherselfalllaptops.
Voice: What?
Weaver: I have a laptop now. An Acer TravelMate. Gorgeous. Silver, named Lurreal.
Voice: Wow. Congrats.
Weaver: Yes. I just had to share my joy with you. Oh, and there's another thing I'd like to share joy on.
Voice: Let me guess. You finished your book now that you have Lurreal and it's been puclished and is on the New York Times bestseller list.
Weaver: No. I wish. But my book has sold its first international copy, before it's even been finished!
Voice: Wow. That's big. Where? America?
Weaver: We're in America. North America. But no, not the USA. Egypt, of all places. My friend Mindi, who used to live there, sent a copy to Egypt, I'm assuming. And I hope that Donna, who posted a comment on mistynano2004.blogspot.com this morning, doesn't mind the sharing of the joy, because here's the email:
Aya,
Right now in Egypt there is a girl holding in her hands a copy of your book 'Broken Wings'. That girl is me.
Mindi Thurmon sent it to me. She told me you wrote this and along with it told me she thought it was amzing the way you followed your dreams and managed to write a book when so many other kids start, but never finish, or dream to, but dont even start.
Now all I can say is that I agree with her, because it really is amazing. And its inspiring. You are such a talented writer, dont ever stop writing. But I dont even need to say that, because what i know of you has showed me you seem like a person who will never give up on something she loves.
When I read 'about the author' and read your motto, it helped me to realize what makes my life beautiful. Its Mindi. And you know why? Because she is my life, and she is nothing less than beautiful. Now that she is coming home, I wont ever take that for granted.
donna
~*~
Voice: Wow. And that copy of the book wasn't even finished?
Weaver: Yup. I wish my blog didn't have an anonymity-ifier on the comments. I'd email her back and thank her, ask her for her address so that I could send her a copy when I'm finished. She really made my week with that email. Donna, if you read this, thanks! Also, if you don't feel comfortable with me posting your email, tell me and I'll take it off.
Voice: Thoughtful of you.
Weaver: Well, it's her email. And I agree: Mindi truly is a beautiful person. I hope for my own selfish sake that she isn't moving back to Egypt as Donna implied, because I'd miss her tons. Unfortunately, I haven't talked to Mindi since around the end of the school year, at my birthday party.
Voice: One day, you'll have to tell me more about this famous birthday party of yours.
Weaver: I will. However, it won't be tonight. I'm pooped. It's almost one, and I need to dig out my contacts from my eyes and sleep for several days. Too bad I have no sense of time. I may sleep for only an hour instead and not know.
Voice: You'd know all right. You'd still be unbelievably exhausted and you'd snap at anyone nearby.
Weaver: True. But I'll try my luck. G'night.
Voice: Good night. I hope you're here to stay this time. It's good to have you back.
Voice In The Mist: Why's that?
Weaver: I volunteered at the Calgary International Reggae Festival from about 10 AM this morning to 8 30 PM. Was forced to stay until 11. Didn't get home until 12. It is now 12:19, and I'm exhausted. I hate waking up early.
Voice: Indeed. So, was it worth it?
Weaver: Fuck yeah! I had a fine time. A boring time, most of the time, but a fine time.
Voice: Why boring?
Weaver: Since I was the youngest person selling tickets (and the latest, thanks to Fil), I got the fun job of putting bracelet wristband things on people so that they can go in and out. How fun! Not. The most irritating and boring job ever. I like working a till. It's fun. I don't like ripping backs off of bracelets and putting them on people. At least later I did security: put on sunglasses, look menacing, and occasionally chase someone away from area I'm guarding. Still. It's still monotonous and grunt work.
Voice: You do grunt work for Brian.
Weaver: He pays me. And his work is not monotonous and boring. It requires skin.
Voice: Skin?
Weaver: Er... Skill.
Voice: I hope that's what you meant. So what's the 'fun' part?
Weaver: Well, you know how I couldn't write because there was no computer with which to do it?
Voice: Yes...
Weaver: And you know how I really needed a laptop to write on?
Voice: Yes...
Weaver: Wellmamaagreesandshegotmeandkaiandherselfalllaptops.
Voice: What?
Weaver: I have a laptop now. An Acer TravelMate. Gorgeous. Silver, named Lurreal.
Voice: Wow. Congrats.
Weaver: Yes. I just had to share my joy with you. Oh, and there's another thing I'd like to share joy on.
Voice: Let me guess. You finished your book now that you have Lurreal and it's been puclished and is on the New York Times bestseller list.
Weaver: No. I wish. But my book has sold its first international copy, before it's even been finished!
Voice: Wow. That's big. Where? America?
Weaver: We're in America. North America. But no, not the USA. Egypt, of all places. My friend Mindi, who used to live there, sent a copy to Egypt, I'm assuming. And I hope that Donna, who posted a comment on mistynano2004.blogspot.com this morning, doesn't mind the sharing of the joy, because here's the email:
Aya,
Right now in Egypt there is a girl holding in her hands a copy of your book 'Broken Wings'. That girl is me.
Mindi Thurmon sent it to me. She told me you wrote this and along with it told me she thought it was amzing the way you followed your dreams and managed to write a book when so many other kids start, but never finish, or dream to, but dont even start.
Now all I can say is that I agree with her, because it really is amazing. And its inspiring. You are such a talented writer, dont ever stop writing. But I dont even need to say that, because what i know of you has showed me you seem like a person who will never give up on something she loves.
When I read 'about the author' and read your motto, it helped me to realize what makes my life beautiful. Its Mindi. And you know why? Because she is my life, and she is nothing less than beautiful. Now that she is coming home, I wont ever take that for granted.
donna
~*~
Voice: Wow. And that copy of the book wasn't even finished?
Weaver: Yup. I wish my blog didn't have an anonymity-ifier on the comments. I'd email her back and thank her, ask her for her address so that I could send her a copy when I'm finished. She really made my week with that email. Donna, if you read this, thanks! Also, if you don't feel comfortable with me posting your email, tell me and I'll take it off.
Voice: Thoughtful of you.
Weaver: Well, it's her email. And I agree: Mindi truly is a beautiful person. I hope for my own selfish sake that she isn't moving back to Egypt as Donna implied, because I'd miss her tons. Unfortunately, I haven't talked to Mindi since around the end of the school year, at my birthday party.
Voice: One day, you'll have to tell me more about this famous birthday party of yours.
Weaver: I will. However, it won't be tonight. I'm pooped. It's almost one, and I need to dig out my contacts from my eyes and sleep for several days. Too bad I have no sense of time. I may sleep for only an hour instead and not know.
Voice: You'd know all right. You'd still be unbelievably exhausted and you'd snap at anyone nearby.
Weaver: True. But I'll try my luck. G'night.
Voice: Good night. I hope you're here to stay this time. It's good to have you back.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Stupid Comments
Voice In The Mist: Now, it's one thing for you to ignore me. It's another thing to allow random users to post spam in my personal space. And it's been there for almost a day so far! Why haven't you removed it?
MistWeaver: To be honest, I don't know how. I swear to you, the exact moment I saw what had been so rudely put up, I tried. But for some reason, the power to edit and delete comments is not easily available to me. I'll look it up sometime soon when it's not one o'clock in the morning and I'm not extremely tired.
Voice: *sigh* I guess I'll have to settle for that. Good night, then.
Weaver: Good night.
Oh, and I haven't forgotten you. I think of you all the time.
MistWeaver leaves at this point. But in so doing, she misses the soft swirling of the darkened mists and the faint outline of a smile that appears in the gloom.
MistWeaver: To be honest, I don't know how. I swear to you, the exact moment I saw what had been so rudely put up, I tried. But for some reason, the power to edit and delete comments is not easily available to me. I'll look it up sometime soon when it's not one o'clock in the morning and I'm not extremely tired.
Voice: *sigh* I guess I'll have to settle for that. Good night, then.
Weaver: Good night.
Oh, and I haven't forgotten you. I think of you all the time.
MistWeaver leaves at this point. But in so doing, she misses the soft swirling of the darkened mists and the faint outline of a smile that appears in the gloom.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Hello, Hello
MistWeaver: I have absolutely no idea if there are any left who hasn't given up on me and stopped reading my conversations, but there's nothing I can really claim in my defense except that I haven't had access to a computer in a while, and didn't have a compatible internet browser for a while before that.
Voice In The Mist: What about all the unfinished posts? Those get irritating, too.
Weaver: I just never get the oppurtunity to come back on and finish them, that's all. I'll try to finish one or two that were left unfinished eventually. Once I have a working computer I can use regularly.
Voice: Okay, I'll bite. Why haven't you had access to a computer in a while?
Weaver: I've been at camp.
Voice: What kind of camp?
Weaver: Summer camp.
Voice: Well, obviously. It's summer. What kind of summer camp?
Weaver: It's called "Teen Video Intensive". It's a... Dun dun dun! Teen Video Intensive course at Red Deer College in Red Deer, Alberta.
Voice: Whoop dee doo.
Weaver: Hey, don't you go dissing TVI! I hate summer camp, but this one was so funky I stayed an extra week.
Voice: Wow. That's pretty serious, especially for you, Ms. "I Will Die Before Ever Going Back To A Camp In My Life". What made it so funky?
Weaver: For one thing, nearly everyone was over 16. I know it may be hypocritical, but younger people bug me. For another, we stayed in the dorms on campus. It was very... intensive.
Voice: If I were a vulgar human of your age range, I'd probably respond "Oh my Gawwwd! What was his naaaame? Did you sleep with him? OHMIGAWD YOU DID!!! YOU HO!!!"
*lengthy pause*
I can see your eyes widening as you struggle not to laugh.
Weaver: That was... unexpected. And in response to your lapse into vulgarity: there was no "him", I slept with nobody, and I am not a whore.
Voice: I know that, of course. However, the way you put that statement implied there was a man involved.
Weaver: To tell the truth, most of my friends there were guys. They were all superfunkydoodlicious, and it feels really weird being back home and not having any of the people I met around to joke with. Living two solid weeks with someone is no joke.
Voice: So tell me about some of these friends you made.
Weaver: There was... let's see... Oh bah. I hate to do this again...
Voice: You're leaving again, aren't you.
For the sake of not being killed by anyone who has ever read this blog, MistWeaver has refrained from answering the question.
MistWeaver
Voice In The Mist: What about all the unfinished posts? Those get irritating, too.
Weaver: I just never get the oppurtunity to come back on and finish them, that's all. I'll try to finish one or two that were left unfinished eventually. Once I have a working computer I can use regularly.
Voice: Okay, I'll bite. Why haven't you had access to a computer in a while?
Weaver: I've been at camp.
Voice: What kind of camp?
Weaver: Summer camp.
Voice: Well, obviously. It's summer. What kind of summer camp?
Weaver: It's called "Teen Video Intensive". It's a... Dun dun dun! Teen Video Intensive course at Red Deer College in Red Deer, Alberta.
Voice: Whoop dee doo.
Weaver: Hey, don't you go dissing TVI! I hate summer camp, but this one was so funky I stayed an extra week.
Voice: Wow. That's pretty serious, especially for you, Ms. "I Will Die Before Ever Going Back To A Camp In My Life". What made it so funky?
Weaver: For one thing, nearly everyone was over 16. I know it may be hypocritical, but younger people bug me. For another, we stayed in the dorms on campus. It was very... intensive.
Voice: If I were a vulgar human of your age range, I'd probably respond "Oh my Gawwwd! What was his naaaame? Did you sleep with him? OHMIGAWD YOU DID!!! YOU HO!!!"
*lengthy pause*
I can see your eyes widening as you struggle not to laugh.
Weaver: That was... unexpected. And in response to your lapse into vulgarity: there was no "him", I slept with nobody, and I am not a whore.
Voice: I know that, of course. However, the way you put that statement implied there was a man involved.
Weaver: To tell the truth, most of my friends there were guys. They were all superfunkydoodlicious, and it feels really weird being back home and not having any of the people I met around to joke with. Living two solid weeks with someone is no joke.
Voice: So tell me about some of these friends you made.
Weaver: There was... let's see... Oh bah. I hate to do this again...
Voice: You're leaving again, aren't you.
For the sake of not being killed by anyone who has ever read this blog, MistWeaver has refrained from answering the question.
MistWeaver
Sunday, July 17, 2005
I love you, Will.
Obviously this can't go on the front page, so here it is with the Lost Entry. Will's response to it. I love you, Will. I really do.
And then he randomly changed topics to his favourite topic... that is, himself.
Lah.
| (3:46 AM) Eeore--: | -faints- |
|---|---|
| (3:46 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Mm? |
| (3:46 AM) Eeore--: | And I *so* read that french entry. |
| (3:46 AM) Eeore--: | Wuss. |
| (3:46 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Bahaha |
| (3:46 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | I knew you'd read it before I hid it |
| (3:47 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Or did you search? |
| (3:47 AM) Eeore--: | I was probably the only one who read that friggin' crap. |
| (3:47 AM) Eeore--: | French is hideooussssss. |
| (3:47 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Yeah I bet |
| (3:47 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | And it was fun |
| (3:47 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Translating, I mean |
| (3:47 AM) Eeore--: | What's your problem with Dave? |
| (3:47 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | What do you mean? |
| (3:47 AM) Eeore--: | Like, are you stupid? |
| (3:48 AM) Eeore--: | You're the one who told me getting your hopes up can only lead to tragedy. |
| (3:48 AM) Eeore--: | And you are clearly getting your hopes up. |
| (3:48 AM) Eeore--: | The dude likes bubblegum bimbos. |
| (3:49 AM) Eeore--: | Are you a bubblegum bimbo? |
| (3:49 AM) Eeore--: | No. |
| (3:49 AM) Eeore--: | Quit it before I rip my hair out. |
| (3:49 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Dude the chick he likes now most definitely is not a bubblegum bimbo |
| (3:49 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Although I really like that term |
| (3:49 AM) Eeore--: | Nyaaa~ |
| (3:49 AM) Eeore--: | Well, you still have hopes. |
| (3:49 AM) | -->((Sayata))<-- Love is not a victory march. It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah... has changed his/her personal message to "Death to the Bubblegum Bimbos!" |
| (3:50 AM) Eeore--: | That he might just turn around and truly see what's been there all alonggggg. -sways- |
| (3:50 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Yeah well there's always that stupidstupid eternal hope |
| (3:50 AM) Eeore--: | -slap- |
And then he randomly changed topics to his favourite topic... that is, himself.
Lah.
The Lost Entry.
Okay. I want to post this... but I don't want everyone to read it. So I'm burying it in the archives. Hopefully this way, the only people who will see it are those dedicated enough to comb back through every entry I've ever posted.
But, because my conscience demands it, I'm going to sacrifice the joyful timelessness of my life and find/record the real date... which is, this day (Sunday, July 17th), but one year later.... Meaning 2006, not 2005.
Ughhh. I suppose this won't come as a surprise to most of the people close to me right now (like Becca and Mama)... but I'm falling for Davo. Er... a bit more than that, even. I think it's pretty safe to say that I already tripped and hit my head on this one.
I suppose the time when I got thumped with this knowledge was... Friday? I dunno the day. But before/around when we went to Stampede. We were talking, and I was teasing him about the twit (as usual) and he was telling me about how he was finally 100% over her. But that wasn't all he said. He said that it was partly because he liked someone else. Someone he told me to trust him was far from a twit. Someone he'd known a year and a half at least and that had been there for him all along.
Oh, here's the Chat Log.
Damned if my heart didn't do a backflip and light up in hope.
And damned if it didn't curl up into a ball and shrivel when he continued to describe someone else.
But... ugh. Just... ugh. I swear, my heart was leaning forward going "Yes? Yesssss?", and meanwhile my mind was going "FUCK! There's no way you can fool yourself now! Look what your heart is doing!". And in that one instant, I wanted to murder that girl, even though I didn't know her.
Plus he fought with his best friend over her, and while they were fighting she went out and started dating someone else. I'd have to say "GOOD FOR HER!" on that one, but still. A chick he fought his bro for? Can we say, OFF-LIMITS?!? And doubly so because she's TAKEN!! I don't care if she says she still has feelings for him. If she REALLY had feelings with him, she'd break up with her boytoy and date him, damnit.
Although she DOES seem like a nice girl, I guess. I haven't met her. And anyone's fucking better than Jolyn, I suppose...
Actually, I really want to believe she's as amazing as he says. If I have to listen to him talk about him and some other random chick, let her at least be an amazing one who won't tear his heart in half.
It would be easier to just hate her.
This really bloody sucks though. I mean, it seems like all of his friends who are girls have had crushes on him at some point or another. I don't want to be one of the hordes. And he obviously sees me as a good non-romantic friend, because I get to hear about all of his love-life, and feelings (even ze purely physical ones) for girls. And I love that honesty. I really do. I don't know whether he's that way with only me or whether that's just the way he is, but I like hearing the whole story, not just what's appropriate.
But it still kinda hurts to hear him talk about every other girl on the fucking earth like that. It makes me feel kinda... well... boyish, I guess. Butch. Good enough to be a great friend, but someone who would obviously never be a love interest. I mean, he's having a bunch of girls over to make out this week. Yeah, yeah... it's Juniour High shit, but whatever. Fuck, I'd still love to be in on it! But no... I got to hear about how excited he is and how there's one chick gonna be there that he's really hot for (although that's as far as it goes).
It's just so many little things that I like... I like the short bursts that he talks in (although I'm starting to talk like that too after hanging with him... grrr), the way he smiles, the way he wanders randomly around his house... even his spiky hair and the weird way he hugs. Maybe I'm like him and just need somebody to obsess over. But hey, he could obsess over me any time he wants...
And then there's Tristan, although I think I've known for a while that it's well and truly over, if only because he's so straight. I know that he doesn't mind that I'm not... but I'd like to be able to chill and light one up with someone I love, or even be able to fucking have sex without knowing that he's freaked out over the possibility of me getting pregnant. I know that he accepts me for who I am... but I also know that he's not completely comfortable with it.
And yeah... I still want what I've always wanted... not just someone who likes me but someone who's completely gaga over me. And neither the SK or I was/is completely gaga over the other. I mean, come on. He's been gone three weeks and we've exchanged like two or three impersonal emails. Joy...
I think I just need a best friend again. Not that my friends aren't great, but there's nobody I'm super close to. That's my equal, and that I can talk to about absolutely anything at anytime. Learn from, and have them learn from me. No judgment.
Man, I miss Inga sometimes. But hey, I'll still be here when the smoke clears for her, to (embarassingly) quote Avril Lavigne. Her life is just too busy for me right now, especially since we live so far away.
And that, my dears, is a big part of my troubles. It'd be so much easier if I could see the people I love every day. Freedom. Freedom to wander and stay wherever and to live and love as I choose, with the barriers between that being mental and emotional and spiritual without the physical thrown in to make it THAT much harder.
He just told me that he's not sure that he likes Meghann as more than a friend! *grins manically*
I'm taking this news quite chilled-like.
I shouldn't be so happy.
This whole frigging issue has disappated my whole love of myself thing. I keep thinking that he's so lean and I'm so... voluptuous. All the cicas he's friends with seem to be tiny lil' things. Not super smart. Perky-like... and all interexchangeable. 'Cept Becca and me. Hence why I was surprised when we made it into his shout-outs. We're the kinda friends that (and no offense to my friends who do this) you use when you need us, then drop us into the background when you don't. Maybe we have serious conversations at night, but you don't always eat with us.
That's probably another reason I'm feeling so lonely. I mean, Blair always says she misses me, but it's not me who she's reminiscing about and putting pics of with her on her Nex page. Dallis might call or stop by, but his every second question is about the story he wanted me to read and comment on, or the orgy that I stupidly mentioned to him. Not that I'm even really interested in that anymore because it's just too planned.
I swear, with every sentence my heart just sinks lower and lower. If he's not sure about his feelings for HER, what are the chances he ever likes ME? She seems like frigging superwoman and much more the type he seems to like than me. Ughhhhhhh.
EXACTLY!!! That's what I mean about me an' Tristan. We're just not on the same level. Maybe another time, when we're riding the same wavelength, but not now. Although I know that we'll never be on the same level like that, unfortunately. But we'll always be great friends, hopefully.
I think that's where Meghann and Davo are at, too. Or perhaps I'm just being hopeful... I kinda think I would be a good balance of that... I'm not a twit but I'm still interested in le craziness.
But maybe it's the twitness and not the similarity that attracts him.
Man, I need to stop obsessing. Especially over fucking guys. Especially over fucking guys who don't even realize I exist. Or worse, see me as 'one of le dudes'.
Hm... maybe if I had a sex slave to satisfy my baser urges, I wouldn't feel the need to circle like a vulture over Davo.
Note to self, add "Find Sex Slave" to my to-do list.
You know who I also miss? Kurt. We seem to drift together and apart over the years. He's another one that I'll still be around for when the smoke clears, although in his case the drug of choice is testoterone. And lust.
Hm. He'd make a good sex slave, if he didn't live in Vancouver.
Okay, obviously this whole entry is going downhill fast.
I'm going to go curl up, I guess.
Lah.
But, because my conscience demands it, I'm going to sacrifice the joyful timelessness of my life and find/record the real date... which is, this day (Sunday, July 17th), but one year later.... Meaning 2006, not 2005.
Ughhh. I suppose this won't come as a surprise to most of the people close to me right now (like Becca and Mama)... but I'm falling for Davo. Er... a bit more than that, even. I think it's pretty safe to say that I already tripped and hit my head on this one.
I suppose the time when I got thumped with this knowledge was... Friday? I dunno the day. But before/around when we went to Stampede. We were talking, and I was teasing him about the twit (as usual) and he was telling me about how he was finally 100% over her. But that wasn't all he said. He said that it was partly because he liked someone else. Someone he told me to trust him was far from a twit. Someone he'd known a year and a half at least and that had been there for him all along.
Oh, here's the Chat Log.
| (1:32 PM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | there's a different girl i like..quite a bit too |
|---|---|
| (1:32 PM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | and shes nothing near a twit |
| (1:32 PM) Sayata - Come aw: | *shakes head* |
| (1:32 PM) Sayata - Come aw: | I'll believe it when I see it |
| (1:32 PM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | trust me on this one |
| (1:32 PM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | ive known her for a year and a half, and we've been tight the whole way through |
Damned if my heart didn't do a backflip and light up in hope.
| (1:33 PM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | and we would be dating right now probly, if matt hadnt interfered not so long ago |
|---|
And damned if it didn't curl up into a ball and shrivel when he continued to describe someone else.
But... ugh. Just... ugh. I swear, my heart was leaning forward going "Yes? Yesssss?", and meanwhile my mind was going "FUCK! There's no way you can fool yourself now! Look what your heart is doing!". And in that one instant, I wanted to murder that girl, even though I didn't know her.
Plus he fought with his best friend over her, and while they were fighting she went out and started dating someone else. I'd have to say "GOOD FOR HER!" on that one, but still. A chick he fought his bro for? Can we say, OFF-LIMITS?!? And doubly so because she's TAKEN!! I don't care if she says she still has feelings for him. If she REALLY had feelings with him, she'd break up with her boytoy and date him, damnit.
Although she DOES seem like a nice girl, I guess. I haven't met her. And anyone's fucking better than Jolyn, I suppose...
Actually, I really want to believe she's as amazing as he says. If I have to listen to him talk about him and some other random chick, let her at least be an amazing one who won't tear his heart in half.
It would be easier to just hate her.
This really bloody sucks though. I mean, it seems like all of his friends who are girls have had crushes on him at some point or another. I don't want to be one of the hordes. And he obviously sees me as a good non-romantic friend, because I get to hear about all of his love-life, and feelings (even ze purely physical ones) for girls. And I love that honesty. I really do. I don't know whether he's that way with only me or whether that's just the way he is, but I like hearing the whole story, not just what's appropriate.
But it still kinda hurts to hear him talk about every other girl on the fucking earth like that. It makes me feel kinda... well... boyish, I guess. Butch. Good enough to be a great friend, but someone who would obviously never be a love interest. I mean, he's having a bunch of girls over to make out this week. Yeah, yeah... it's Juniour High shit, but whatever. Fuck, I'd still love to be in on it! But no... I got to hear about how excited he is and how there's one chick gonna be there that he's really hot for (although that's as far as it goes).
It's just so many little things that I like... I like the short bursts that he talks in (although I'm starting to talk like that too after hanging with him... grrr), the way he smiles, the way he wanders randomly around his house... even his spiky hair and the weird way he hugs. Maybe I'm like him and just need somebody to obsess over. But hey, he could obsess over me any time he wants...
And then there's Tristan, although I think I've known for a while that it's well and truly over, if only because he's so straight. I know that he doesn't mind that I'm not... but I'd like to be able to chill and light one up with someone I love, or even be able to fucking have sex without knowing that he's freaked out over the possibility of me getting pregnant. I know that he accepts me for who I am... but I also know that he's not completely comfortable with it.
And yeah... I still want what I've always wanted... not just someone who likes me but someone who's completely gaga over me. And neither the SK or I was/is completely gaga over the other. I mean, come on. He's been gone three weeks and we've exchanged like two or three impersonal emails. Joy...
I think I just need a best friend again. Not that my friends aren't great, but there's nobody I'm super close to. That's my equal, and that I can talk to about absolutely anything at anytime. Learn from, and have them learn from me. No judgment.
Man, I miss Inga sometimes. But hey, I'll still be here when the smoke clears for her, to (embarassingly) quote Avril Lavigne. Her life is just too busy for me right now, especially since we live so far away.
And that, my dears, is a big part of my troubles. It'd be so much easier if I could see the people I love every day. Freedom. Freedom to wander and stay wherever and to live and love as I choose, with the barriers between that being mental and emotional and spiritual without the physical thrown in to make it THAT much harder.
He just told me that he's not sure that he likes Meghann as more than a friend! *grins manically*
I'm taking this news quite chilled-like.
I shouldn't be so happy.
This whole frigging issue has disappated my whole love of myself thing. I keep thinking that he's so lean and I'm so... voluptuous. All the cicas he's friends with seem to be tiny lil' things. Not super smart. Perky-like... and all interexchangeable. 'Cept Becca and me. Hence why I was surprised when we made it into his shout-outs. We're the kinda friends that (and no offense to my friends who do this) you use when you need us, then drop us into the background when you don't. Maybe we have serious conversations at night, but you don't always eat with us.
That's probably another reason I'm feeling so lonely. I mean, Blair always says she misses me, but it's not me who she's reminiscing about and putting pics of with her on her Nex page. Dallis might call or stop by, but his every second question is about the story he wanted me to read and comment on, or the orgy that I stupidly mentioned to him. Not that I'm even really interested in that anymore because it's just too planned.
| (3:44 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | she's not exactly the twit type i guess, meaning likes everything i like, and wants to party hard and go nuts and be stupid. she's different from me in some ways, but she is without a doubt gorgeous and like i said..probly one of the best friends i could ever have. |
|---|---|
| (3:45 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | i guess all of it just doesnt come in one package. its one or the other, and the twit way, just isnt working for me. |
| (3:45 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Hm but all of that is head stuff |
| (3:46 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | What's your heart sayin'? |
| (3:46 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Does your heart flip whenever someone mentions her? |
| (3:46 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Are you always thinking of her? |
| (3:47 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | When you see something you love, is your first thought of showing it to her? |
| (3:48 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | i was thinking about her all tonight |
| (3:49 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | but she's not as... infatuating as the twit kind of girl |
| (3:50 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | but then again twits are ones that will never stick with you. she will. i want to be as crazed about her as i did jolyn and nikki..and morgan.. ugh |
| (3:50 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Hm |
| (3:51 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Well you have nothing to lose by going out with her I guess |
| (3:51 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | I mean, you seem like good enugh friends that your friendship could survive if it went downhill |
| (3:54 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | my hope is that she'll become as mind absorbing as anyone that i liked before her, once we start to get into being more than friends. i havent hung out with her that much, anyways. maybe more would open up some full and real feelings, maybe it'll come after we try and take a chance on it.. but yeah, no we would always stay close even if a relationship failed, im pretty sure at least.. |
| (3:54 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Well there you go then... |
| (3:55 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | At least you'd know for sure |
| (3:55 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | And there are some people that you think are awesome but just aren't attracted to |
| (3:57 AM) | DaVo_.- . [[466-1107]] .>Fuck Authority<. ... I need you now, please hurry up and find me..wherever you are.. ...great night. has changed his/her personal message to "i want to be crazed about You.. but how is it that its not like that:(" |
| (3:57 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | but i am attracted to her. |
I swear, with every sentence my heart just sinks lower and lower. If he's not sure about his feelings for HER, what are the chances he ever likes ME? She seems like frigging superwoman and much more the type he seems to like than me. Ughhhhhhh.
| (3:58 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | just.. the things in common thing, its a big deal to me usually. and she's more laid back and easy going and im more hardcore and wanting some crazyness. soemtimes you want soemone that will keep up with you and your ways.. |
|---|
EXACTLY!!! That's what I mean about me an' Tristan. We're just not on the same level. Maybe another time, when we're riding the same wavelength, but not now. Although I know that we'll never be on the same level like that, unfortunately. But we'll always be great friends, hopefully.
I think that's where Meghann and Davo are at, too. Or perhaps I'm just being hopeful... I kinda think I would be a good balance of that... I'm not a twit but I'm still interested in le craziness.
But maybe it's the twitness and not the similarity that attracts him.
Man, I need to stop obsessing. Especially over fucking guys. Especially over fucking guys who don't even realize I exist. Or worse, see me as 'one of le dudes'.
Hm... maybe if I had a sex slave to satisfy my baser urges, I wouldn't feel the need to circle like a vulture over Davo.
Note to self, add "Find Sex Slave" to my to-do list.
You know who I also miss? Kurt. We seem to drift together and apart over the years. He's another one that I'll still be around for when the smoke clears, although in his case the drug of choice is testoterone. And lust.
Hm. He'd make a good sex slave, if he didn't live in Vancouver.
Okay, obviously this whole entry is going downhill fast.
I'm going to go curl up, I guess.
Lah.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
The Birthday Issue
MistWeaver: G'day to you.
Voice in the Mist: These long periods of inactivity are irritating. I thought for sure last time you were telling the truth when you said you were back for good.
MistWeaver: I was. But then my laptop broke. And Blogger didn't work on the computer that was the family's. Even now, it doesn't quite work properly, but I'm sick of waiting.
Voice: Interesting. What gave you this sudden urge, hm?
MistWeaver: Actually, it's rather appropriate for me to write right now: after all, it's about a birthday. And the last entry was, too.
Voice: Who's birthday is it this time?
Weaver: Mine, of course. June 13th. That's tomorrow. But my party was held yesterday, with teh last of the guests having left a few hours ago.
Voice: Uh oh. A party. Those never turn out well.
Weaver: Actually, this one wasn't so bad. There were a few people that I would have preferred not being there, and a few I would have liked to be there but weren't, but what could I do about that?
Voice: Not invite them, perhaps?
Weaver: You know how I am. Too goddamned nice for my own good. A few weeks before my birthday, I was stupid enough to mention that I was having a party around the 11th and that everyone was invited.
Voice: Intelligent. I assume that later you hit yourself appropriately hard over the head?
Weaver: Indeed. About as soon as I remembered that I hate huge gatherings of people.
Voice: So what did you do about it?
Weaver: Nothing. I mean, what could I do? At least there were a few people there that really made it worth it. Like David, for example.
Voice: David? Not the one who messed with your friend?
Weaver: Of course not. He's still getting his karma hit back at him. No, I'm talking about David Sicorsky, a guy in my Spanish class who makes me mad every time I look at him.
Voice: Why's that? And why in the name of the mists did you invite him to your party?
Weaver: It's not him that makes me mad. Not exactly. It's how everybody treats him. I mean, he's one of the most awesome, amazing, funkay cool people I know, and people treat him like total shit. I just don't get it. It irritates me to no end, because he always has this aura of sadness around him at school that isn't there anywhere else and should not be there, ever.
Voice: Ah, I see. Another one of your lost souls. They should call you MistGuider, not MistWeaver.
Weaver: Eh, whatever. Guiding them through, parting the mists... It's all the same. But anyways. I'm here to tell a little bit about my party, not go on the Lost Souls rant, or the David rant.
Voice: Let's leave them for another day, then. Do go on.
Weaver: Well, it all starts out on Friday, when I invited Mindy Thurman, a good friend of mine that I almost forgot to invite to the party, and Amber
Whoops, phone call. Later.
Voice in the Mist: These long periods of inactivity are irritating. I thought for sure last time you were telling the truth when you said you were back for good.
MistWeaver: I was. But then my laptop broke. And Blogger didn't work on the computer that was the family's. Even now, it doesn't quite work properly, but I'm sick of waiting.
Voice: Interesting. What gave you this sudden urge, hm?
MistWeaver: Actually, it's rather appropriate for me to write right now: after all, it's about a birthday. And the last entry was, too.
Voice: Who's birthday is it this time?
Weaver: Mine, of course. June 13th. That's tomorrow. But my party was held yesterday, with teh last of the guests having left a few hours ago.
Voice: Uh oh. A party. Those never turn out well.
Weaver: Actually, this one wasn't so bad. There were a few people that I would have preferred not being there, and a few I would have liked to be there but weren't, but what could I do about that?
Voice: Not invite them, perhaps?
Weaver: You know how I am. Too goddamned nice for my own good. A few weeks before my birthday, I was stupid enough to mention that I was having a party around the 11th and that everyone was invited.
Voice: Intelligent. I assume that later you hit yourself appropriately hard over the head?
Weaver: Indeed. About as soon as I remembered that I hate huge gatherings of people.
Voice: So what did you do about it?
Weaver: Nothing. I mean, what could I do? At least there were a few people there that really made it worth it. Like David, for example.
Voice: David? Not the one who messed with your friend?
Weaver: Of course not. He's still getting his karma hit back at him. No, I'm talking about David Sicorsky, a guy in my Spanish class who makes me mad every time I look at him.
Voice: Why's that? And why in the name of the mists did you invite him to your party?
Weaver: It's not him that makes me mad. Not exactly. It's how everybody treats him. I mean, he's one of the most awesome, amazing, funkay cool people I know, and people treat him like total shit. I just don't get it. It irritates me to no end, because he always has this aura of sadness around him at school that isn't there anywhere else and should not be there, ever.
Voice: Ah, I see. Another one of your lost souls. They should call you MistGuider, not MistWeaver.
Weaver: Eh, whatever. Guiding them through, parting the mists... It's all the same. But anyways. I'm here to tell a little bit about my party, not go on the Lost Souls rant, or the David rant.
Voice: Let's leave them for another day, then. Do go on.
Weaver: Well, it all starts out on Friday, when I invited Mindy Thurman, a good friend of mine that I almost forgot to invite to the party, and Amber
Whoops, phone call. Later.
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