Bleck, I'm in a bad mood. It's December 10th still in my mind since I haven't gone to bed yet, but it's 2:36 AM, so it's technically December 11th, and since I already have a Dec. 10th entry already, we'll stick this one here. Bad mood...today was just kind of a mess. Well, not really, yet kinda. It started out okay. I was doing Christmas stuff for most of the day. Then Ruth decided to drop over to drop off Christmas presents for mom to give Ryan and Michael. She broke down and started crying. She was crying because some of the nephews had a Christmas program tonight at St. Ann's, and mom was supposed to invite Ruth, but she forgot. Mom, though she forgets almost everything anymore, really does forget Ruth. And that really bothers Ruth. And then we just started talking about EVERYTHING and our whole family and the billions of problems we had, and we kept crying and hugging and telling each other how glad we are that we have each other. And then Ruth called Rose about something, so we were all three having a conversation...and then mom got home, so Ruth and I had to tell her we were crying about dad because she asked why we were upset...but then Ruth broke down and said, indirectly, that she's sad mom forgets her all the time. And mom made up lame-ass excuses about being really busy, even though she's not even that busy. And it was just an emotionally draining few hours. Sigh.

Then I worked for three hours, which was fine, except that Henry really embarassed me, which I don't feel like talking about since I talk about him enough. Then I came home and sat around and ate. Then I worked on Christmas stuff further and decided to go through a bunch of pictures to put in the family members' binders. And I just got really sad. First I was looking at these pictures of people I'd been in love with (well, or thought I was)...I saw pictures of Kevin, whom I was so entirely infatuated with...and I remembered our little Harlequin Romance novel relationship we had. I was so young and stupid. I went with my brother Dan and his wife Tammy to Columbus (where Kevin happened to live) to visit Tammy's parents, and I spent the evening with Kevin. We went to the City Center Mall, and I remember that it didn't feel like my life at all because I was in a strange place with a guy I barely knew yet thought I loved. And he thought he loved me. There was this cushiony bench that was like in front of a planter that we sat on, and I remember he took my hand in his lap and was playing with my fingers. And it was strange yet really intimate. And then he told me he hated my nail polish. He was so damned petty -- I could never please the guy. And then we had our little rendezvous in the forest...his dad had to drive us there because he didn't have his license yet, just his temps. And that was when all our naughty stuff (by a 16-year-old girl's standards) happened, and the family walking with their baby in the carriage kind of almost saw us, and it was so like...rebellious and exciting. And I had no idea what to do because I had no faith in myself and knew nothing about what guys liked chicks to do to them, and I just kept thinking, "I'm ugly. I'm ugly. How can he even touch me?" I liked our walk home from the park the best. We were holding hands, and it was really cold yet not. And he took me past his grade school (or high school...I forget), and I just felt a sense of incredible peace. And then we went up to his room and waited for Tammy to come get me, and he played songs for me on his guitar, and I was so smitten! A guitarist man...just what I always wanted! I think he played "Free Bird" and maybe "Tomorrow" by Silverchair. And then Tammy knocked on the door, and his parents called up. And he grabbed me and kissed me really hard, like we'd never see each other again. And we didn't. I remember lying in bed that night at Tammy's mom's house, and my body still tingled in hand-print shaped tingles. I could still feel where he had touched me. And I felt guilty yet incredibly excited and grown-up. All I listened to the whole trip was the Fuel CD, over and over and over. I can't listen to it this day without feeling nauseated. So I usually don't. Blah, enough of this reminiscing.

More pictures...I found pictures of Jessica. Jessica with all her people she went to prom with...she said she looked really fat. I thought she looked absolutely beautiful. A picture of her in the car with some other girl (whose name escapes me) with blonde hair. She said they had tried to buy like 20 lighters to take to the Our Lady Peace concert, but the person at the convenience store wouldn't let them. And then the picture of her with Wayne Static (I hate Static-X)...I don't know why I have kept the pictures of her. Probably because I know I'll regret it some day if I throw them away. I really, really think I loved her, and I don't even know how that could be. I hate love. I hate how vulnerable I get. I begin doing that shit where you sit around by the phone when you know the person is supposed to call, and then you get REALLY mad when they call five minutes late because it obviously means that they hate you. I remember she didn't call once, and I bawled my eyes out, and it ended up being a really valid excuse. Blah, of all the loves of my past, she strikes the most discordant chord (if there's a such thing). And I don't know why, considering I never even met the girl. I guess it doesn't help that the height of my love for her was during the most horrible year of my life -- going to Miami. Bleck bleck bleck. I wonder what she's doing right now, though? I mean, duh, she's probably sleeping. But I wonder if she's still with Adam. And I wonder if she has any friends. She only had one friend when we stopped talking. All her other friends had ditched her. When I was at Matt's Kairos the other day, there was this girl in his class that was kind of "alternative." I hate that word...but she had on one of those cute, little ski caps...and pants with one of those black belts with silver buckle things. And I was immediately attracted to her in a strange obsessive way. And I immediately got very depressed because I know I'd never have her or even meet her. And I think I got really depressed because every single "alternative" girl I'm attracted to inevitably reminds me of Jessica, for some reason...I felt that same nausea Jessica used to (and still does sometimes) produce inside of me. God, why do I feel so much!?

More pictures...my Sophomore year Homecoming pictures. My sister Rose has this snazzy camera that takes really professional-looking pictures. I had gone over to her house, and she did my hair. And she insisted on taking an enormous amount of pictures of me. I was not thrilled with the idea because I just thought I was gross and ugly and fat. And when the pictures got developed, Rose insisted on hanging them up in her salon and showing me to all her clients and trying to set me up with her cute client guys. And I was so upset at her because I thought I looked so obese in those pictures. Now when I pull the pictures out, I don't recognize myself for a second because, not to toot my own horn or anything, I was strikingly pretty in those pictures. I've showed them to Angelina and Liz, and they're like, "No, you don't look right that skinny." But I wasn't even too skinny in them. I was the perfect weight, I believe (though I didn't at the time...I just saw myself as being fat since I'd gained so much weight since the anorexic-ish starvation diet)...I just looked completely different. My whole face looked different. My eyes were glossy, as though I was wearing contacts. I remember opening the door when Brian got there, and he like froze, and his eyes got really big. I wonder how I could have possibly looked so pretty that night...it's really frightening. It makes me feel REALLY bad about myself now when I do a "before" and "after" comparison. Yuck, I hate writing about this stuff, knowing someone's probably going to read it. I don't mind writing about dieting and exercise, but I never directly ever really mention being fat...I think I feel like if I don't mention it, no one will notice I'm fat. But I am. And they'd have to be blind not to notice. To look the way I looked in those pictures, I would have to lose 60 lbs. I hate us fat girls who talk about this and talk about this, as though we're obsessed. And we make entire websites about our weight-loss struggles (I know because I visit them all the time to see what other girls are going through)...yet we never get down to the weight we want and keep it off. Well maybe 5% of us do. If I actually got my body to look the way I want it to look, I just wonder what would even be going on in my head. All the self-loathing would be gone. I wonder what would fill that HUGE space? Seriously...what the hell would I do with all the time I spend in a typical day fucking hating myself?! Would I become a seriously boring person? Ahhh, I just want to scream and puke and sleep and everything...I hate feeling this way! I want to hang these pictures up everywhere I go to haunt me and make me realize how much of a failure I am and how disgusting I've let myself get. I don't ever want to eat again. I hate writing this personal stuff for people to read...bleck to online journals. I'm not as much of a confessionalist as I thought. Sorry Sylvia.

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