Today was interesting. I got up like I usually do, groggy, waking up from bad, weird dreams. Remind me never to drink Green Tea before bed ever again. It gives me weird dreams. I had a dream that I was back in Stockton, and Adam worked at C-Mart. I was renting a whole bunch of b-grade movies, like, "Teenage Stoner Zombies From Hell". I'm not completely sure why, but even that freaked me out. Zombies are just plain fucked up, you know? Then I started having one of those dreams in a dream. I was watching a damn zombie-voodoo movie from the '50s, then all of the sudden I was in it. It was like, one of those movies where the Haitian priest has a whole bunch of zombie dudes for servants, and these nosy tourists come into Haiti, and snoop around a bit too much in the Haitian priest dudes stuff, and he wants to turn them into zombies too. So, all through my dream I was trying not to get turned into a zombie. Then my mom wakes me up. I think I must have been moaning and groaning in my sleep again. I hate it when I do that. I lay in bed until 6:15, then I get into the bathtub. After that I put my clothes on and yadda yadda yadda yadda.. you know. I turned on Red Hot Chilli Peppers full blast when I was done putting my make up on and listened to Anthony Kietis belting out, "My friends are so depressed, I feel a question of your loneliness." I'll bet. A little while later, I started my long and piteous journey to school. Someone on the bus passing me opened up his window and shouted something at me. I'm guessing it was pretty rude, because I could hear the giggles clear out on the sidewalk. Oh well. I walked into school out of breath and all pissed off like. During first hour, I spent my time writing poetry and counseling Amanda again. It's funny how some people are only your friends when they want advice or something else costly. I'm thinking of charging. The advice whore. Anyway, I wrote my poems, then I went to second hour, and sat there. Then I went to third hour, and wrote more poetry. Then I went to fourth hour, where I was called Marilyn Manson. I don't even listen to that much Manson. I think Manson sucks donkey dick. I wasn't even wearing black today. I try to ignore it, but I write more poetry. In fifth period, I sing. And then in sixth period, it happens. I get a sudden case of the giggles because of Megan and her cracks toward our teacher. I can't help it. I like Mrs. Wiser, but I just had the giggles. It was probably one of the first times anyone in that class has ever heard me talk, or seen me smile or laugh. Then it happens. This cute boy who I've had a crush on ever since the first day I got there talks to me when I'm smiling at him. He looked at me for a long time, and I smiled at him, then looked away, and when I looked at him again he was still smiling. He looked at my shirt and said, "I like Korn. They're pretty good." All I could do was nod and smile with my tongue hanging out of my face. Later I want to slap myself hard. I could have at least said, "Wanna fuck?" Oh well. There will be other opportunities. I hope.
"I dreamt that I was dreaming. I was wired to a clock, tickled by the minute hand, tick tock tick tick tock. I dream I'm on a train, and it is making music. I don't remember getting on, clickity click clickity click." -Moloko.
"I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby. Come with me Friday, don't say maybe. I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you. Ooohh. Ooohhhh... Yeah, dirtbag. No, she doesn't know what she's missing." -Wheatus.