Enigma

2004-03-04T14:09:00.000-08:00

"We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection." -Anais Nin

I'm feeling impulsive. Amina was trying to calm the instinct after school today because I was ready to blow the lid off of the whole thing. For once, I'm really tired of all of the intrigue and little game-playing. It's so annoying and... trivial (for lack of a better word.) Plus, I could have been feeling impulsive because Christopher was feeling impulsive this morning. Or was he the one feeling impulsive because of me? Hm. Point is, there was a whole lot of urge to do something rash going on. I don't know, perhaps I'm getting bored (?) with everything and I just want to shake things up. Watch them explode. Boom. Like that.

Eh, I mentioned Christopher, so now I should chat about him for a little while...

I finished typing four pages of Yesterday's Silence (v. 108? haha the amount of drafts for this is amazing) this morning due to the fact that we didn't have to be in school until 12:30. For those of you who don't know, Christopher is one of the main characters in the story. Yes, yes I speak about my characters like they're real people.. because they are. And they sound more real on paper if I think that they're real in my head. Something like that. Anyway, I was pretty comfortable with the progression of things, even though the whole first page only consists of two paragraphs. I love big paragraphs, but certain people start freaking out when they see them. "Eek! A paragraph more than six sentences! Break it up so that I can read it faster, and feel accomplished faster!" I couldn't break those beautiful things up; they were begging to go on forever. It was painful to cut them off.

So Christopher got his time in the spotlight this morning, and Scott and Elijah are terribly jealous. Although my female characters are incredibly boring in comparison to the male ones, let me touch on them briefly so that I'm not in trouble later...

Natanya, object of obsession for Scott in ADOH, is going to be a background character. I was toying with the idea of boosting her up and making her a main character, but her personality is annoying me. She is completely clueless as to the inner workings of the Elijah and Scott unit, and I think that adds a certain something to the story. It's almost like she is the epitome of a normal girl, and she'll offset their wacky, writer personalities off nicely. I'm definitely going to make her an important part of Scott's existence (he wouldn't have it any other way), but her separation is going to be pretty distinguished. No way around that.

As far as Shana, oy does she have an attitude! I wasn't planning on making her such a spunkster, but she just started speaking all on her own. I'm definitely going to make her headstrong and slightly narrow-minded mind set clash with Christopher's flexible, open-to-anything one. I'm going to have Shana and Mike (jerky roommate of Christopher's) at each other's throats all the time, but I see good things in their future. I want Mike to be a hero... he's an asshole, but he's going to serve an important purpose. Christopher and Shana are going to be so wrapped up in the drama of the bigger picture that it's going to take Mike to see through it all and come up with the perfect solution.

I know I'm being vague, but no complaining... I don't want to ruin the whole plot like I did for Amina today. (Sorryyyy couldn't help it - had to tell SOMEONE.)

Olivia, Bryce and Shannon are almost completely on hold, but I think that they'll be going places soon. My interest in their plot comes in really sporadic spurts, so maybe I'll be revisiting it soon.

Speaking of revisiting, there's someone right now who just won't go away.

Op, getting away from writing and back to me and my annoying not-so-dramatic lack of a personal life. That would signify that it's time for this entry to...

Love,
mir

2004-03-03T19:40:00.000-08:00

Omar says yes, Amina says no, my Mom says a resounding stay out of it, my brother says that it's all a smokescreen, my father has no clue what's going on (oy gevalt is THAT a good thing) and I'm just sitting around here waiting for the storm to hit. And what a perfect storm it will be, loves. Me and my big mouth and even bigger heart. I should have never involved myself. Not that I exactly had a choice. On the other hand, who am I kidding? Even if I had a choice, I would have ignored the weather forecast. Is it too late to board up the windows?

I know, I know. Spit on me and my metaphors.

*spits*

Amen to that, sister.

Love,
mir

2004-02-19T16:08:00.000-08:00

taZ ate bugZ1: ok now i remember why i never considered marc
taZ ate bugZ1: cuz he likes you
VersLibreVotary: HE DOES NOT! YOU'RE SUCH A DAMN LIAR OH MY GOSH MY BEST FRIENDS SUCH A DAMN LIARRR
taZ ate bugZ1: rofl
taZ ate bugZ1: somethings up with him
VersLibreVotary: maybe he likes YOU
taZ ate bugZ1: maybe hes using me to get to YOU!
VersLibreVotary: hey. that was a CHEAP SHOT.
taZ ate bugZ1: no it wasnt
taZ ate bugZ1: lol
taZ ate bugZ1: why would he like me? he doesnt even know me
VersLibreVotary: well he doesn't know ME either.
taZ ate bugZ1: lol but neither do other people, and they like you! lol
VersLibreVotary: umm
VersLibreVotary: nooo
VersLibreVotary: you LIE
VersLibreVotary: *covers ears*
VersLibreVotary: no more of this!
VersLibreVotary: rofl
taZ ate bugZ1: rofl
taZ ate bugZ1: omg damnit now im considering him
taZ ate bugZ1: bah
VersLibreVotary: HAHAHAHA
VersLibreVotary: I KNEW IT
VersLibreVotary: I WIN
VersLibreVotary: YOU LOSE
VersLibreVotary: MUAHAHAHA

And that's how it goes. : )

2004-01-15T13:56:00.000-08:00

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	Low
Schizoid:	Low
Schizotypal:	Low
Antisocial:	Low
Borderline:	Low
Histrionic:	Moderate
Narcissistic:	Low
Avoidant:	Low
Dependent:	Low
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Low
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --

Histrionic
People with histrionic personality disorder are constant attention seekers. They need to be the center of attention all the time, often interrupting others in order to dominate the conversation. They use grandiose language to discribe everyday events and seek constant praise. They may dress provacatively or exaggerate illnesses in order to gain attention. They also tend to exaggerate friendships and relationships, believing that everyone loves them. They are often manipulative.

Oh great. That's encouraging. -M.

2004-01-12T15:29:00.000-08:00

Entertaining little episode, thought I'd come share.

We were arguing over politics at dinner (heh) and my brother got frustrated with my father.

"You know what, Dad? You give a whole new meaning to the term CHEESE-HEAD."

That's what he said. 12 years old. Gosh he makes me proud.

-M.

2003-12-30T06:49:00.000-08:00

Why did I need to wake up early today? Honestly, was that necessary? I'm dangerous when I'm bored... not to mention the fact that I'm staring at a list of deadlines that are making me feel really overwhelmed. I have to bang out another page of ADOH today, and eventually I'm going to have to make up for the two pages I failed to finish on Sunday (3 pages were due, I did 1 and a half... but I don't count halves. It's either all or nothing around here.)

I just found my Coldplay CD (Rush of Blood To the Head) and stupid me, I went and started playing it. Argh. Bad move. I still love the songs and enjoy listening to them, but the feelings attached to them aren't ones I need to remember. Maybe there are times when I WANT to remember them, but I never NEED to. Ever.

Aww poor chap has been reduced to a locked box of memories I'd like to send away. Hey, it's all about the choices you make.

"A warning sign... I missed the good part and I realized... I started looking... and the bubble burst... I started looking for excuses... Come on in... I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in... I've gotta in my loudest tones... That I started looking for a warning sign... When the truth is - I miss you... Yeah the truth is - that I miss you so... A warning sign... You came back to haunt me and I realized... that you were an island... and I passed you by... you were an island to discover... Come on in.... I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in... I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones... that I started looking for a warning sign... When the truth is - I miss you... Yeah the truth is - that I miss you so... and I'm tired... I should not have let you go... No... So I crawl back into your open arms... Yes I crawl back into your open arms... And I crawl back into your open arms... Yes I crawl back into your arms..."

*closes open arms* Damnit. You caught me. Not fair.

Yo, that is SO frustrating. I thought I'd hate that song... yeah, it used to be my favorite because I used to think that the lyrics were so nice, but then I got annoyed with them... I mean he goes away and then HE'S the one in the bad state? And she's the one who has to be there to take him back (over and over)? Um... NO thanks.

And yet I still love that song. I thought I'd hate it when I listened to it, but no. I just started thinking of Torabora. Aww crap what does THAT mean now?

And of course I had to briefly consider the person I originally thought of when that song played over and over and over again....

[really huge subject change] - Aminem is going to the Met today with her senior buddies, and then she's flying off to Cali later on in the week. Oy. I mean I'm happy that she gets to get away, but that leaves me here and I don't like being left here. If I could go anywhere where would I go? I don't even know anymore. I used to have some definite ideas about who I'd want to see and when I'd want to visit them but at this point? There's not much going on in this head of mine that you kids would be pleased to see.

Maybe (but kinda unlikely) I can make a plan to get over to the city and visit Double R, who I haven't seen in an unacceptably long amount of time.

Or I can actually be a good girl and try to get some more writing in.

Or jeez, beyond that, maybe some HOMEWORK. *gag*

Talk soon, kids.

* mir

2003-12-26T14:33:00.000-08:00

First major accomplishment of the winter break:

I finally finished reading Freedomland by Richard Price. It feels like I've been reading that thing forever. It's a lot of bad language and extremely rough topics to plod through, but as always, he's outdone himself. It's so depressing to read the work of a man with so much genius. Read the book - it's amazing.

* mir

like this

2003-12-18T15:50:00.000-08:00

It's been a long existence.

I can't believe that everyone is sick. (All right, not the most original way to start out my first blog entry in a while, but bear with me. We start small and work our way up... or at least that's how I *hope* things work around here.) And in addition to people being sick with the flu and whatever else is circulating through the hallways in our beautiful, dahling, quaint little school ("quaint" - I'm sorry I just wanted to use that word in a sentence), they're sick in the heads. Terribly ill. Sick little puppies, I tell you.

RULE NUMBER THIRTEEN in the book of mir (14th book in the bible.... right after the book about when it's appropriate to quote the Sopranos - complete with prodigal son analogies and talk of tyrant employers and their sheep): Invasion of privacy is one of the 142 deadly sins - right after "running with scissors" - and is punishable by death. Or really really big boo-boos.

There are some things I can overlook, some things I can forgive. Parading around like the gang-busters, out to expose someone's secrets, is not one of those things. I didn't accept it when it was in paper form, and I refuse to accept it now that we seem to have advanced to hacking into computers. It digusts me and it won't be tolerated. I don't think anyone reading this entry has seen me truly disgusted, either. Takes a lot. This is a lot. So the rest of you who are witnesses will get to see my eyes flash and change colors and if you're lucky, maybe I'll start hurling huge glass objects too. Fun, fun. Grab some popcorn, pull up a seat, snag a spiked snapple, and you're in business.

All right, I'm spoofing now - the bible references, hurling objects (I don't do that any more - too messy)... but I was dead serious and extremely angry before. Perhaps not as out-for-blood as Amina is, but I'll do anything for a friend. *cough*

--- And psalm 257 - gather ye assholes - is recited quietly in the background as the light fades to black.

back it on up

2003-12-14T11:46:00.000-08:00

See the young man sittin' in the old man's bar
Waitin' for his turn to die...

I don't want to do anything anymore. I want to sit in a little bubble in some abandoned corner of the planet, not able to commit any actions. It would just make life so much easier. No, I'm not regretting anything because let's face it, I never was the type of person who spent much time regretting stuff. I just feel stupid all over again. I never thought it would be possible to feel so sore over something because of MYSELF. Ahhh it drives me insane. Each year I think I'm smarter and I think that I semi - know what's going on and then I do something to prove myself wrong... something I'll look back on the following year and wince at.

It's sad that you're the thing I'm looking back on with a cringe. Remember when you used to be good enough?

bad, bad, bad

2003-12-06T20:22:00.000-08:00

I found the following when I was cleaning up the TV/library room today. I thought I'd post my stupid story excerpts to show you have far my writing has come (pfft and how far it has to go.) Showing this is like showing my old underwear... way too babyish (and let's face it - small.) It's embarrassing, but cute at the same time. Extremely ironic. Hm... Names, personalities, and events in these stories are of NO CONSEQUENCE and are not related to personal events going on right now. They were written months or years ago anyway. (woo, how'd you like *that* for a disclaimer?)

An excerpt from a story I thought I was writing... (the names are exactly how I wrote them, I swear it.)

"Paul, listen to what you just said. You can't be serious. I know you think that you're in love with her, but..."

"I AM in love with her," Paul said. His comment only made Karen sigh; she was expecting it.

"We're in high school. We don't even know what the sort of desperate love you're talking about is. You know what? We don't even know what love all by itself is!" Karen's voice shook. She was trying to keep her volume down in the deserted classroom as not to disturb any other classes in session. Wouldn't that look nice... Karen and Paul in a classroom all by themselves when they were supposed to be at lunch.

"If you had someone, you'd know what I'm talking about," Paul said with a smirk. His words stung, just as he knew they would. Karen felt like he'd just slapped her across the face. No; she felt worse. She wished he'd have slapped her instead of that.

"How dare you," she whispered, trying not to cry. "How dare you say that. Who the hell do you think you are? You called me into this room to ask my opinion of some stupid stunt you're going to pull and you just slapped me down like that, without even letting me finish? I've had just about enough of this bad treatment. We used to be friends. Don't you remember that? Once upon a time, before Frank... even before Emma. Now I'm a friend to you, but you're sure no friend to me. Take it back."

"Take what back?" Paul asked, pretending not even to care about what she meant. He certainly was pretending - he couldn't stand when Karen got mad at him. Once he called her thirteen times in a row until she didn't hang up on him any more to say that he was sorry for whatever he'd done. That was sixth grade though; this was a very different story.

"What you just said," Karen stared at him, not backing down.

"It's not my fault no guy will put up with you," he said bitterly. He wouldn't give it. Karen had to see how serious he was.

"Okay, Paul. I see how it is. But for the record, you're the one who ruined this friendship. You're the one to blame." And with that, Karen took her things and exited the classroom quite loudly. The door slamming was like an exclamation point at the end of her statement and her quick steps down the hallway told Paul that she wasn't coming back any time soon.

"Damn!" he said, slamming his fist on one of the desks. He ran his hand through his hair and looked at the door, wishing Karen would just walk back through it. She didn't. She was making her way down to the cafeteria again, as quickly as possible. Paul was in over his head, and it hurt her to see him so distraught. But wait, he wasn't distraught. He seemed like he couldn't see anything wrong with what he was about to do. Karen sniffed once, and held her head up higher.

"He's a big boy. He can take care of himself," she said aloud, pushing the cafeteria doors open and being met with the smell of the cafeteria food and the familiarly noisy atmosphere. She was right... Paul certainly could take care of himself.

But then again, wasn't that what worried her?

Yeahhh that was it. I have some more (and actually a really bad poem) but I think I'll save that horrible material for another day. Leave comments for me por favor.

Love,
mir

Surprise, Surprise

2003-12-03T17:51:00.000-08:00

When Amina has access to a blog, she'll use it to go on the person's own site and scare the living daylights out of them by screaming, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!" :P

guess who's back?!

2003-12-01T19:35:00.000-08:00

Well, the prodigal internet has returned. I was a hell of a lot more excited about it before, but now I'm just like eh. To tell you the truth, life was simpler without it. I still got to sporadically talk to Nathan (which is extremely important, of course), Double R and I caught each other on the phone and Kait actually called me too, and I see Aminem every day in school so she doesn't really matter. (kiddinggg) Everyone else besides my Jas and Jizzy can go take their AIM and stick it up their noses... you know why I'm weirded out? I'm tired of spying. I don't even want to anymore. I have lost all interest in the lives of silly suburban people. Weird, isn't it? hahaha It's too much of an addiction to let go so easily. I'm addicted to keeping an eye on other peoples' addictions. That's a nice way of putting it.

Another reason having the internet back is going to be a burden: I have an entire readership that wants to know where in Sam's Hill I've been for the last two weeks. I have some updating of journals, and a whole lot of explaining to do. Plus there's TRaC, quizes, projects, tests, and my birthday (woohooo) to deal with. And so my life continues...

And to think, it went on without the internnet for over 2 weeks! Who would have dreamed?

Love,
mir

anarchybubbles: boys suck.

Jizzy taught me a new word today. "Crackwhore." Don't you love that?

crossing the wires

2003-11-14T17:47:00.000-08:00

*sigh* I've been having trouble getting online, lucky me. Amina seems to think that my phone line is crossed (yeah, I still have dial-up). I'm agreeing with her on the count that before, I think I heard part of someone else's conversations. It was really staticky so I didn't hear much (booo... if I can't get on the internet, I should have some other mode of entertainment.) So now I'm going to pretend that I heard someone else's conversation, okay? Ready? Ready.

There's a male voice and a female voice amidst the static. Picture me curled up in my chair with the phone next to my ear, listening to the people talk. Umm make me be eating yogurt. Yum, yogurt. Haven't had that in a while. (I think there's some upstairs in the fridge though..hm..NOTE TO SELF: stake out the yogurt situation when this blog entry is completeld.)

Here goes:

Man: So?
Woman: So...
Man: What are you going to do?
Woman: There's nothing for me to do but wait.
Man: Waiting's no fun.
Woman: Well what the hell do you want me to do then?
Man: You should [static takes this part out - picture me being annoyed with that.]
Woman: I can't do that! Are you crazy? He's on thin ice as it is. He's depressed, he's lonely, he's stressed out...
Man: You're not helping any of that!
Woman: And a confrontation will help it? No way. Just leave things the way they are.
Man: I don't want to leave things the way they are.
Woman: It's not your decision to make. There's no way I'm interrogating him on how he feels when he's so emotionally screwed up right now.
Man: Hey! Who said anything about YOU doing it?! I'll do it.
Woman: You're so sick. You enjoy instigating and messing around with peoples' lives. He's not ready, all right?
Man: Is it him that's not ready or you?
Woman: [static covers this.. good thing too, because I'll bet there was profane language in there somewhere.] I can't believe that this is what you do for fun.
Man: At least I don't go around listening to other peoples' phone conversations!

[picture me dropping the phone and whistling innocently.]

[Yup, and by the time I pick up the phone, the guy and girl have stopped talking. But don't worry kids, I'm sure we'll find out what happens in a situation very similar to this. We just may have to wait a while...]

Yeah, that was what should have happened. Would have made my day a little more interesting.

Blah my internet is so screwed up right now... if I can't get on later, remember that I love you and that my other phone is still functioning. Call as needed.

If I *can* get on the internet later, well, good for me!

Ciao.

~mir

the write stuff

2003-11-06T10:20:00.000-08:00

"When you see her sweet smile baby
Don't think of me"
[ Dido ]

All right it's about 1:00 already and I have accomplished NOTHING. I don't even care anymore. School is becoming a burden and I feel so burned out all the time. Some of the stuff just seems so useless and school has taken SO much time away from my writing work. And that bites. Anything that takes time away from my writing work is evil. Boys are evil for that reason. And there may be some other reasons in there, I don't know. (The only boy who isn't evil right now is Nathan, but he will become very evil very quickly if he doesn't get his rear in gear and send me something.) Righhht.... so now that I've babbled for the first paragraph of this entry, let me get on to more structured nonsense.

We're taking Papa Tony and Aunt Dianne out for their birthdays tonight. Going to Golden's. It was my mom's choice because it's a spiffier place than Paul's, but she can't fool me. I know she only wants to go to Golden's to check out all those cute Jewish boys. Ha, I caught her.

Guess what? I'm *still* reading Freedomland. I'm trying so hard to see it through and it's actually get more interesting by the second.. it's just that it's so long and I have a bazillion books that I want to read. You know, I own about 500 books (not coutning my mom's and HELLO she was an English teacher so multiply my number by like 80) and there are so many that I just haven't read yet. I was looking through all of my books the other day and I thought of how much money my parents have spent funding my addiction to reading. I could give them back some of my money but hey, I can't get to writing because everything just takes up so much time.

(Some of you are now wondering why I'm not doing "serious" writing right now and that's a question I will answer for you - - I can't. Need to get a little warmed up first. And anyway, I should be doing homework. If I submerge myself in a writing task for one of my stories, I'm not going to be able to yank myself out of it any time soon.)

This is against my policy, but I've really been battling over two character policies for a novel I'm working on. Some of these notes will seem very cryptic to you since you don't know the thought process that went into them (and since my train of thought seems to have no tracks at certain points), but I'm going to post them. Yes, first time ever, my private writing notes. Feel special. And leave comments.

(These notes are from a private diary log that I keep on this bootyfull computadora.)

Enjoy.

[Exploring the main character Scott Lynch, found in A Dream of His]

What is really up with Scott?

It's definitely something that has to be decided. He's the teen who is bordering on suicide because of his being the victim of constant bullying and discrimination. But how can such a story be made believable? There could be a whole group of boys out to get him, but why? How? When? And why isn't Scott fighting back?

I'm tackling several themes at the same time in this novel, as usual. Scott's mother is blind (can't see the bruises he comes home with) and his father, an unfaithful husband and not much of a father or role model, is constantly on business trips because of the high-power company he works for. Scott is tormented by his peers and classmates as his parents don't know that anything is going on... it isn't until Elijah moves in to the house across the street that Scott's secret life of horror is going to be revealed to the world. But first, let's start at the beginning. (a very good place to start?)

The bullying has been going on since grammar school, for no apparent reason. Scott is an easy target because he's not exactly the biggest kid in the world (putting it nicely - he's a little "height challenged") and also because his interests are very different from those of the other children. Scott enjoys writing...but he has become obsessed with it. It got to the point that he preferred sitting on the bench writing during phys ed class to playing basketball, or eating lunch by himself and working on a new story to chowing down with friends. Introverted, private, and pensive are three words that could have described Scott for all of his life. His way is with words became apparent when he wrote an amazing story about bullying in the eighth grade that started the school system enacting new programs to keep bullies out of their public schools. However, apparently these programs didn't help - Scott was still tormented and because of embarrassment and a strange loyalty to the enemies that he'd developed over the years, Scott kept his mouth shut. Who knows, maybe he deserved being beaten to a pulp. Even his father wasn't above wacking him a few when Scott "needed to be kept in line."

Scott has resigned himself to thinking that this life was meant for him. He was meant to be the odd-ball with no friends (or HE thinks he has no friends... until Elijah, of course), no girlfriend, no "normal" life, and no support at home. He's gotten to the point that he feels more rejected when the bullies don't pick on him or torment him then he does when they do decide that it's time to pay Scott "a little attention." Scott is depressed and hungry for something that he swears he's never had before - a true friend. Luckily his writing, something that he has always hated and blamed when times were bad, brings him to one.

[ Frick Meets Frack ]

Miss Brooke, the English teacher formerly part of the Picture Perfect storyline (jeez, what am I going to do with THAT one now??) is a huge part of this novel. She has both Elijah (the new transfer) and Scott (the brilliant but odd introvert) in her classes. [Elijah and Scott are juniors]. It isn't until Jenny (a sophomore) comes and asks Miss Brooke to start a writing club, however, that the English teacher develops a strong relationship with these two boys. She's the one who takes writing and makes it something of beauty for them, instead of something to be thought of as punishment. (By the time the boys join the club, both are convinced that their talent for writing and love for words, language, and everything in between is at the root of their misery - although Elijah won't admit it to himself as fast as Scott will.) Soon a once-a-week club becomes an excuse for Scott and Elijah to pour their frustrations out... and sometimes Miss Brooke and Jenny can't help but get caught in the line of fire.

Note to readers: All previously posted work on A Dream of His, that is with Elijah and his cigarettes as Yanie would choose to remember it, has been trashed. So is the way of Miriam's writing process....

an army of one

2003-11-05T09:04:00.000-08:00

I had a very unusual dream last night. You were in it. But that was the normal part. The unusual part was that I liked the dream. Even with you in it. Weird, huh?

and then there was wednesday...

2003-10-28T14:48:00.000-08:00

How about we forget what never was and concentrate on what will never be?

I am under extreme amounts of stress right now, with little pieces of heaven in-between. Life is good, although Geoscience sucks. Algebra is close behind. *shrug* You win some, you lose some. Lots of stuff to talk about (lots lots lots!) but right now I really should be doing something "productive." (That word needs to die. That word along with "VOLCANOES" and "FUNCTIONS".) And if I'm not going to e-mail Double R yet (*criescriescries!* I'm soooo sorrryyyy) then I'm certainly not hanging around here to talk to *you*. Luckily the week off is (*counts*) 3 days away. And you know me - I'm an expert at waiting for things. So yeah, all I have to do is wait a little while. That and break 90 on all my tests this week...

Manhattan tomorrow and Thursday - - > sweetness

Talk soon... hopefully sooner than it's going to seem waiting for it.

Love,
mir

i'd like to place a collect call

2003-10-19T07:08:00.000-07:00

"your lips provide a shelter for the things that I don't know."
[ All-American Rejects]

My mind has a habit to function in a really weird way. Whenever I don't have information, I go nuts and blab everything about myself... sacrificing some info to get some info. (Why am I trying to justify it? It doesn't make sense anyway.) But when I *do* have information, I tend to just relax and not say much. That's always the way I've been. Information, some form of understanding, has always been the most important aspect to me as far as ANYTHING. I always need to have some good level of comprehension before I feel relaxed or comfortable or even safe. However, when I attain this comfort level, I drop the urge to release information. Several friends (and ex-friends) can atest to that... sometimes I'm thankful for that mechanism in my mind that drops the gates at a certain point, but sometimes it's really annoying.

Don't get me wrong, I give information (about myself) very easily... I just don't feel as though I *have* to if I'm comfortable enough.

That's always how it's been.

Why would it be changing?

I got a piece of information from someone (shutup you, it was completely unprompted I swear) the other day that made me feel extremely weird. I always freak out when I *don't* have information, but I went the opposite way this time. I spent days (and loads of time talking to Double R and Aminem) trying to figure out why I got this little fact catapulted at my head. And then, to make matters even more odd, I promptly started figuring out what I'd say back. I don't usually do that, but I did. I think that even though I responded, part of me is guilty about the truckloads of things that I didn't say (that I could have said.) Wasn't the right time.

But is there ever going to be a right time to change the mir system and react to something that could have been said on the fly (or could have been calculated)?

The more I'm writing the more I'm confusing myself, and I don't often do that. Another thing that is extremely weird at the moment....

~mir

excuses, excuses

2003-10-17T20:40:00.000-07:00

"Someone's boring me. I think it's me." -Dylan Thomas

the next installment...

2003-10-10T13:00:00.000-07:00

read and review if the urge strikes --- >
(the next part to my previously posted story blurb)
~mir

Elijah slowly opened his eyes and sat up, looking at Mr. Gower as if nothing were remotely unusual. The guidance counselor waited a few seconds, expecting some sort of explanation; he got none and was soon forced to carry on with business as usual.

"So did you get your schedule?"

"Yes, several copies."

"Does your locker open all right?"

"I don't even have to say 'Sesame.'"

"Glad to hear it. So when did you take up meditation?"

"Right before I started planning to conquer the world," Elijah joked. Mr. Gower didn't react. "I wasn't meditating just now, if that's what you meant. I was trying to remember something."

"Ah, okay. Do you need me to walk you to your class?"

"I think I can make it down the hall without having a piano dropped on my head, thanks," Elijah said. He picked up the pad that was sitting on his lap, secured his pen in its usual position behind his ear, and slung his black book-bag over his shoulder. He saluted the guidance counselor and started walking towards the door.

"If you ever need anything…" Mr. Gower started.

"My people will call your people. We'll do lunch," Elijah said without turning around. He was out the door in the next second, making his way to Miss Brooke's junior English class.

"That is one weird kid," Mrs. Bynes said. She was holding the attendance cards, ready to call the houses of the students absent.

"I guess. Funny though…" Mr. Gower trailed off as Mrs. Bynes gave him a blank look.

"Hey, I don't know; I thought he was clever," he said, going into this office and closing the door. He had a phone call of his own to make.

"You'll be writing in this journal at least once each class. It's yours; you can write whatever you want. I don't read the journals unless I have permission from their owners. The only thing is that you can't take it home, okay?" Mrs. Brooke said, leaning over Elijah's desk and whispering as not to disturb the rest of the class. She smiled at him, pushing some loose blond curls behind her ear. She seemed like a nice woman, but her soft, young features looked like they would have a hard time expressing anything beyond "nice." There was a polite yet stern element in her tone, and she looked genuinely interested when Elijah asked a question or spit out a comment. He wondered if she was from the stupid little town, and if so, how a place like Stockert turned out someone so seemingly with it.

Elijah decided that he liked Miss Brooke, but he couldn't say the same for his classmates. There were groans from every single one of them when Miss Brooke had announced that it was "Journaling Time." Some of the girls in the front row had imitated the teacher when her back was turned; Elijah guessed that they hadn't chosen to sit smack in the front. Two guys sitting in front of Elijah had used choice words to describe the tedious homework that was due while Miss Brooke was collecting it up and down the rows; Elijah guessed that if "My dog ate my homework!" wasn't so old, those two would have needed to use it. A girl was gabbing about obvious evidence that Miss Brooke hated her guts while the teacher was getting a "journal" for Elijah from the closet; Elijah guessed that had Miss Brooke fostered such a feeling, it would have been mutual. And now, as Miss Brooke spent time acclimating Elijah with the components of her class, the murmuring continued. Elijah was seated all the way in the back, so the other students in the class could still bad-mouth their teacher and think she wasn't listening. Elijah hoped that Miss Brooke didn't take the comments she heard to heart because he was pleased with them and hoped they'd continue circulating. The meaner the comments from these sheltered, ignorant kids, the better the teacher he thought.

"Why do you make your students write entries that you won't read?" Elijah asked good-naturedly.

"Writing is important. You cant' get anywhere in life without a good command of language," Miss Brooke said, straightening. Her answer sounded practiced.

"I agree completely," Elijah said, smiling. He pulled out a large manila envelope from his bag and handed it to the teacher. "This is for you." Miss Brooke gave him a puzzled look but nodded and went back to her desk before curiously opening the envelope. Elijah's heart was beating fast, wondering how she'd take it. He stared down at the new composition book that was to be his journal and took his pen out from behind his ear. Gosh he needed a cigarette.

to be or not to be...

2003-10-07T16:08:00.000-07:00

TheDerangedGoose: you called him a sweetie pie
M i R 1288: yeah... so... ?
TheDerangedGoose: ive never heard you say anything positive about a prospective mate
TheDerangedGoose: *scribbles furiously*
M i R 1288: that's not true! i say positive things!
TheDerangedGoose: haha
TheDerangedGoose: mimi
TheDerangedGoose: you may be a good writer
TheDerangedGoose: and a philosophical thinker
TheDerangedGoose: and a very mature person
M i R 1288: but....
TheDerangedGoose: but you are a CRAP liar
TheDerangedGoose: i cant tell.
M i R 1288: i'm not a crap liar
TheDerangedGoose: trust me
TheDerangedGoose: i am the best liar i have ever known
TheDerangedGoose: which in itself leads people to not believe me sometimes
TheDerangedGoose: but yeah
M i R 1288: okay maybe a little... but i DO say nice things. a little. kinda. sorta.
TheDerangedGoose: you are sugar coating it
M i R 1288: so what, i'm a mean sadistic creep who can't stand anyone she likes?
TheDerangedGoose: no
TheDerangedGoose: ok
TheDerangedGoose: think of it this way
TheDerangedGoose: think of a bunch of scaffolding
TheDerangedGoose: stacked high
TheDerangedGoose: and on the top is a thick layer of conrete
TheDerangedGoose: and thats where the people walk
TheDerangedGoose: to them
TheDerangedGoose: its concrete all the way down right?
TheDerangedGoose: thats kinda how your mind is mimi
TheDerangedGoose: you have a sturdy looking exterior
TheDerangedGoose: but on the inside
TheDerangedGoose: there are holes
TheDerangedGoose: like uncertainty
TheDerangedGoose: doubt
TheDerangedGoose: hestant...ity?
M i R 1288: so you're surprised that i'm saying something good about a "prospective mate" because... ?
TheDerangedGoose: because you normally dont
M i R 1288: hmph.
TheDerangedGoose: because you either dont want to get attached (hedgehog dillemma)
TheDerangedGoose: or you are simply never infatuated enough to see past a persons faults
M i R 1288: how about none of the above, and i never speak nicely about a "prospective mate" because of individual situations, and the fact that no matter how hard i try i can't get myself to act like an airhead and get myself to be totally devoted to someone who couldn't care less if the holes under my concrete exterior were showing.
M i R 1288: make sense? i think so.

what will become of you?

2003-10-03T13:36:00.000-07:00

"Coleridge was a drug addict. Poe was an alcoholic. Marlowe was killed by a man whom he was treacherously trying to stab. Pope took money to keep a woman's name out of a satire and then wrote a piece so that she could still be recognized anyhow. Chatterton killed himself. Byron was accused of incest. Do you still want to be a writer - - and if so, why?"
-Bennett Cerf

go milk a cow....

2003-10-01T14:13:00.000-07:00

Really quick rant: People are so amazingly shallow. And obvious. And transparent. It used to bug me, get me to walk around like someone just murdered the king of England... but now, I find it absolutely hilarious. I have a few questions for you kids. Someone caught you talking about them - what do you do? Do you completely deny or just apologize? Your boyfriend is eating lunch with you - how does that come about? You make him park in front of the school or do you go around the corner? Someone falls in the middle of the hallway (shutup, it doesn't only happen on bad TV shows and such...) do you laugh before asking them if they're okay? You and your best are having a huge fight - how do you handle it? Do you post stuff all over the internet?

* I'm just glad that my friends are people I can rely on. When we have a fight, it goes down behind the scenes and it's quick and efficient. Minimal blood shed... and we all present one big united front to the outside world. Do you really want people to know that your group is falling apart? That's just ridiculous, in my opinion. Unless I have some idealistic idea of loyalty. I think it can be upheld though. Why not? Has anyone ever heard or seen evidence of Aminem and I or Double R and I or Goldie and I clawing at each other's throats? NO. That's not to say that we agree on everything or that we don't fight...

Speaking of ridiculous I KNOW A LITTLE BOY WHO WOULD BE SO DEAD RIGHT NOW IF HE WASN'T THE BEST IN THE WORLD.

So there.

"you've already won me over... in spite of me... don't be alarmed if i fall... head over feet... don't be surprised if i love you... for who you are... i couldn't help it... it's all your fault"

Love,
the idealistic,
innocent,
loyal,
girl who is extremely angered by incompetance,
mir *

it would never come...

2003-09-29T14:35:00.000-07:00

I found this in my file during the holiday (when you don't have the option of using electricity, you tend to dig up the past.) I think I wrote it really late one night, and I thought I'd share. Check it. Xo-miR

the last flower
from a Valetine that would never come
crushed under unfeeling feet
upon a lonely heart's command.

then a rush of regret
fragments of beauty swept up
pieces of the flower put into a vase
as thought nothing had ever changed.

even while the destroyed flower is only a reminder...
that nothing will ever be the same.

i'll love you forever...

2003-09-24T19:31:00.000-07:00

All right, it's a short passage, but I'm in need of a *very* critical review of it... I worked on it all through Geoscience class the other day (haha) so it better be good... see what you guys can do for me. (Is it written well? Does it get the reader's attention? Am I being too wordy?) I really really really appreciate it. Love - miR

With each time Mrs. Bynes walked by him, Elijah got that horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach - the feeling you get when you remember something and then forget what you're remembering. He took deep breaths through his nose over and over, hoping that the more he smelled the perfume she was wearing, the better chance he'd have of associating the scent with his original memory. Nothing. He became very frustrated very quickly, in typical Elijah fashion, but wouldn't give up on it. He'd once known someone who'd worn the perfume that Mrs. Bynes was wearing, but he couldn't connect the dots and remember who it had been. Elijah closed his eyes and took another deep breath and...

"Elijah?" Jim Goudy asked as he walked into the room. He gave the young man a mock frown; it wasn't often that the newest kid in the school thought it necessary to meditate in the middle of the guidance office.

drowning in the normal...

2003-09-23T19:18:00.000-07:00

All right, well this radio station is a liar too. It just said that "Headstrong" by Trapt is new music. No, it's not new music. It reminds me of a time where expecting 10:00 PM phone calls and talking about *stupid* things for hours was normal. Um, no, it's not normal anymore... and hopefully it won't be normal again. That was just a really sticky time, and I don't want it to come haunting me. So no, this song is not new. It's old. The act is old. The feelings are old. It's all just really really old.

I'm getting tired of the ordinary. I'm going to have to go get multiple piercings in my ears if someone doesn't show me some excitement soon... I need this place to be jazzed up a little bit. I'm just not into the same movie theater in the same mall or the same science center in the same city or the same coffee shop on the same block or the same stuff in the same store over and over. Let's branch out a little here, you know? Last weekend w/ Double R was the best time I had in *so long* (full profile of it later... haha) and I'm looking for more things like that. None of this doing the normal stuff. Why be normal when you can be abnormal and have twice the fun? I'm tired of feeling trapped (no pun intended) in the same spot all the time. I live in Jersey City for heaven's sake... a dollar and 20 minutes of my time gets me to the center of it all. And I like being in the center....

How about when people say *new* they actually mean *new* for a change?!

~mir

watch out, ghosts coming through....

2003-09-23T16:01:00.000-07:00

I think I should get my own hotline and they should call me Miss Miriam... or something really corny like that. I am psychic. Sarrah calls it "that vibe thing I do" and Amina just plain old thinks I've been smoking something, but this is crazy. The coincidences are killing me. Last year when I told Kait and Soum that I was going out with someone, I dropped a name to make it more believable. ("What's his name?" / "Uhh... he doesn't have one." <--- yeah right.) I called him "Austin," named after the Shawn character... blah only like 2 entire people in the whole universe know about that chapter of my life (3 when I write the e-mail to Sarrah explaining it as soon as I'm done with this... haha). Anyway, I had this kid in mind. I don't know, just some kid I saw walking around a couple times that popped into my head when I made up the name for this fake guy I was seeing. So what's the story now? Nothing in particular, just that the fact that this particular guy's face was the inspiration for me lying and saying I was attached to someone (aww that's harsh... I wasn't out-and-out lying... I was seeing how long it would take them to believe that I finally committed myself to a guy instead of an insane assylum) is seriously coming back to haunt me. I did it to myself, once again. But this time, maybe it's not such a bad thing. It's a nice person to be haunted by. Of course I didn't know that it would be a nice person to be haunted by when I told Kait and Soum some fictitious story, but hey... maybe I *did* know. Heh, with me being psychic and all....

and so it begins again....

2003-09-20T06:21:00.000-07:00

Okay, let's try and figure this out, shall we?

Current insanely difficult, "career-related," endeavor: I'm merging two extensive plots that could survive completely on their own. Why? I realized that they compliment each other, and thought about quality as opposed to quantity. (separate the plots, more novels...put them together, better experience for the reader with one shot.) The only thing is, major adjustments have to be made to make room for the characters in each others' lives. Elijah and Scott were in two completely different novels, and now I'm going to throw them into the same oven and see how the baking goes. Elijah is a messed up, cigarette-addicted, Shakespeare-calibur writer teen who blames his father for everything that goes wrong in his life. Scott is the hurting, dangerous, victim of incessant bullying and abuse who is on the verge of an emotional breakdown or a deadly outburst of violence. In Elijah's story, I was looking for a fellow male character that Elijah would have to bail out (and who would ultimately help Elijah to understand some of the reasoning behind his father's wacky actions) and in Scott's story I was looking for someone who would provide the wit, "peer counseling," comic relief, and heroism. The logical course of action would be to introduce these two kids to each other and sit back to enjoy the show.

The idea to do this occured to me while I was sitting in Geoscience class, I think. Plate tectonics... very inspiring, apparently.

All right, it's time for me to tackle the question that's on everyone's mind. And that would be, why in pink-buny-land did I start a new online journal, right? That's simple... I've been writing a lot, and the way I see it, the more I write the better my "serious" writing will get. However, I also want people to get a chance to *read* what I write. If I post an entry on Xanga and then post another one in a matter of an hour, people won't read the old one. Sooo if I have several places where I can post, I can write more (and get more feedback, in theory.) I am in no way leaving my beautiful Xangas, or not writing for Amina's blog anymore... I'm just also doing this. *shrug* I have a feeling that this one is going to be kind of "career-oriented" and writing-prompt-ish. Just a hunch. Tell me if you think I'm crazy (so I can tell you that I don't care.)

Hm... time to get ready to go. Talk soon.

forever (not) yours,
miriam