Sunday, 08/15/04 - 10:26 pm.
I left yesterday's entry all tearful, trying to recover my incomplete files. I mentioned I cried a lot, didn't I? I cried a lot, but by the time I went to bed, I was feeling very relieved. I think I missed crying, as bizarre as that may sound. I was used to it, it's an old habit of mine, feeling sad. It hasn't happened lately...not that I'm extremely happy, but not quite down either.
*****
I had a weird dream last night, I said to myself this morning. But then it dawned on me: seriously, what dream is normal?. If it was a "normal" dream, anyway, you probably wouldn't even bother talking about it with other people.
I dreamed there were rats and birds infected with worms in my backyard....all because there IS an infected bird in my backyard. It's a black bird, the type that all people are grossed out by. But not me, oh, no. It kind of grosses me out that he's got all this little balls all over his body (I don't foresee a long live), but if I had gloves and he let me grab him , I'd take him to the vet...wait. Now that I think about it, I've already had a dream of that kind before. Picture it: a humid garden at night, all muddy, with rats and birds with worms all around you. The best way to describe my feelings is to evoke Ace Ventura's reaction on the second movie, when he's told he has to find a bat (but I'm not flapping my arms and doing turkey sounds).
*****
And speaking of dreams, I also dreamed that D. wanted to get back to me, that he was in love with me after all, and didn't know how to tell me. We were at some elegant dinner, sitting at the table, next to each other, when someone told him: "come on, you know you are in love with her". And I was feeling very strongly for him, too.
He told me he loved me after dinner, but, to my surprise I replied: look, don't give me that crap. I am in love with somebody else. You had your chance, I really wanted to be with you and you never let me, but that was a long time ago. I am with Joseph, you know that, and I don't plan on leaving him.
That was a very automatic response (it was one of those dreams in which you don't control yourself), and when I woke up and remembered, I was very relieved and happy about my reaction, even if it was, after all, fiction...because freudianly speaking, that means a lot.
*****
I was intrigued as to what was so big about LiveJournal, given many, if not all of the people I had listed on an old diary of mine (that I do not update anymore) left Diaryland and went to LiveJournal. I was often tempted to do same, because it seems all journals are "friends only", and there were great writers I wanted to continue reading. But I never thought they were worth all that trouble of setting up an account and begging to be let in.
I got an account this morning, just because I was bored. I thought that if I liked the place, I'd write in there ocassionally, like I did with my other diary (without leaving this one *kisses simeons-twin*). But I hated it. It's too complicated...or maybe it's simple, but at first sight it seemed like a hassle, the layout and everything...I didn't even want to give it a try. I think a diary/journal should be kept simple (pretty, aesthetic, but simple). Call me technology-challenged, I don't care. All those "you have to comment on my entries or I'll take you off of my friends list" and such are just nerve-wrecking for me.
The trends instantly pop up by the third journal you read: whether it's using "&" at the beggining of a sentence, typing "yr" instead of "your", or overusing the word broken when refering to themselves, talking about "beauty" and "romance" and "heartbreak" and "addiction"...I don't need to go on, right? Now the word "chemical" is spilled all over the place. You start reading the same things in every journal.
But that's just me complaining, leave me alone. And my LiveJournal account will die...I did not like that site, I don't see what's the big deal...unless you're amused by the pictures next to your LJ username. Which is fine by me, really. I was at first, too.
*****
I didn't go to Veronica's place this afternoon, because she had other things to do. So there's a chocolate bread in the kitchen, that I'd bought for her, and maybe now it'll be for me and my afternoon coffee (I don't have afternoon coffee, but I could...). This is nothing like 8th grade, but it kind of reminded me of it: I wanted to hang out with her for a while, and I had nice plans and even a present for her (that'd be a short letter or a drawing, to hide my agony), but she'd go somewhere else, with somebody else.
I love her, and I know she was just being stupid in 8th grade (very stupid), and I don't think I'll ever bring that subject up in front of her. I just had a flashback, in spite of me. That's all. She had other plans for this afternoon, but I think I'll see her tomorrow. It's funny: I miss her, but I wouldn't know how to act around her anymore. I still resent 8th/9th/10th/11th grade, and we also haven't met up properly in maybe a year...perhaps if it were for me, I'd be depressed around her, and I'd cry and I'd remain completely quiet, because that's how I always was when she and Camen were around at school, and that's how I really feel. But no, I won't. I'll be charming, as usual, and I'll pretend those things never happened, like always.
Hmph. That's a tangent. I was going to say that since I didn't go to her house, I stayed home alone watching the tape Angel sent me, containing the Aerosmith A&E especial. I hadn't before, because when it comes to Aerosmith, I'm very picky with the time and the atmosphere. And today seemed to be perfect: nobody was home, and there was ice cream.
I sat in front of the TV, reviving my infinite love for that band, as I drank a homemade milk shake, in a funky cup, with a blue funky twisted Silvester and Tweety straw. I almost cried, because I can only imagine how wonderful it must be to see them live. I came to the conclusion that this band doesn't seem to do it for me anymore because I've reached my limit with them, and the only thing that's missing in my Aerosmithness is seeing them live (there are LOTS of things missing, of course, but considering my geographical zone and my lack of money, I'm not in conditions of asking for much).
I will not cut my hair until I attend a concert, I said to myself. And hopefully that's how it'll be. One, just one concert, that's all I ask for. The taped concert excited me so much I swore I'd pack my bags next time they go to Houston. Then I remembered they're taking a break, that for me sounds like calling it quits. Then I remembered "oh. I lack of money". So I just kept enjoying the show, and that's when it hit me why I wouldn't like to attend a concert: there's something in psychology that forgive me, I don't remember what its called, but it's about having opposite emotions about an event before it happens/while it's happening, and after it's happened. I'd be so pumped up at the concert, that when the band left the stage I'd probably throw myself at a truck outside the venue.
Details, details.
*****
This crappy entry is turning out to be very long, so I'll just share with the world that tonight I drove my family (parents, sister and nephew) to a fast food restaurant near my house. And I drove them back home, too. I think I'm starting to like driving, or at least to get used to it. I'd better be, dumb self.
When we got to the restaurant, The Beatles' Norwegian Wood was playing. It's a sign! It's a sign of my days-as-a-driver to come!...or something *throws confetti, anyway*.
prev / next