All we are is pretty faces,

Like the 'eat from the fire, you are always burnin'.

Tue, 06 Oct 2009 12:06:13 GMT

Hello, livejournal. It has been quite some time since I have confided in you. :p
A lot has happened, I guess, which is probably obvious from my lack of updates. Funny how that works. the more that happens to me, the less I update my journal.

For starters, I healed up very well after surgery. I am totally fine now, and I feel great, and it was a good experience, although it was painful. And I didn't get to wake up to my boyfriend this time because he was out smoking a cigarette, but my mommy was there to hold my hand and console me while I sobbed, though I needed no consolation. I just laid there and cried for what seemed like an eternity, so overwhelmingly happy to have gotten rid of cancer, and have dealt with the very last of it, and excited to look normal again, and to move on with my life, and be a different person, and leave the cancer in the past and put the past behind me.

Then, my brother got his surgery on the 30th of September, almost EXACTLY a month after mine. And from what I am aware of, that went very well. For a while he was having some heart problems, and at one point they thought he had a blood clot in his lungs, but everything turned out to be okay, which I am very happy about. His heart rate was just a bit too fast, especially when he stood up or tried to walk, but I guess that went away. Last I heard about him, they were releasing him very soon. Which is a lot sooner than they released me, but I think that it's because he is much bigger than me, so he didn't have as much of a problem with maintaining a somewhat healthy weight or getting some food down or something like that.

Then, on Sunday, my dad and I drove to Renton to meet up with some guy we found on craigslist, who sold us a BlackBerry Curve 8310. It's beautiful and mine and it is my baby and I love it dearly. I use it way too much for my own good. It's so nice. I don't know what I would do with it if I wasn't using it all the time. It's a BlackBerry, they're made to be in use constantly haha. And yesterday, I started classes at Gene Juarez Academy. This means I am well on my way to becoming a licensed stylist. This means I am well on my way to starting my career. The first day was very boring, and all that really happened was a lot of talking, a little tiny bit of note taking, and some group activities and a lot of "Getting-To-Know-You" games. I ran into Mandi during our last break, which was nice, because she was the only familiar face I saw other than Jade and Courtney, the admissions reps.

I met some interesting people. One of them is a man who seems to be very gay (if becoming a stylist wasn't a big enough hint). He has his nose pierced, and he has a blonde chunk in his hair, and he has an industrial like mine on the same side as mine, and he has a conch piercing (I'm pretty sure it's a conch? but I'm too lazy to research that), and he has gauges and a couple more ear piercings, and he has the nape of his neck pierced, and a tattoo that says "Pride" on his right wrist, and a tattoo of a star where the nape piercing is; the two end-balls of the barbell are on either side of the top point. He's enertaining and he does his own hair and he sits next to me in class. My locker partner is a girl that I met maybe twice, but she seems nice, and I like her already; she took up very little room in our locker, which left a lot of room for me, which I graciously used half of so she still has room for her things. They gave us our kits and we have a lot of appliances and things to lug around now.

I don't really have friends there, nor do I know anyone enough to talk to them outside of class, but it's nice to have someone for while I'm in class. I just wish I wasn't stuck all alone for my breaks and lunches. I spent so much of my time by myself yesterday, it was crazy. The commute to Northgate is like an hour and a half to two hours, depending on which buses I catch, and the commute back is a non-negotiable two hour trip. I leave at 6:07 and I don't return home until 9:00. It's very demanding, but I know that I can handle it, so it doesn't bother me much. We have two fifteen minute breaks, one of which they broke up into two 7 minute breaks, giving us three breaks, and a forty-five minute lunch. This would be enough time to go to the mall, if I had a car, but yesterday I just used it to go get a latte at Starbucks and chain smoke.

So that's my life, right now. I'm happy about it. Things are coming together beautifully.

I know I'll be all better one day when I can make it through.

Sat, 29 Aug 2009 16:39:33 GMT

I've got two days of life left. I am not allowed to touch food after tonight, and I'm not allowed to touch water after tomorrow night. And then I won't be home for a few days. Which is usually the part that kills me. The pain isn't generally too bad cause they have me on so many god damn pain killers that I can't even make heads or tails of the fact that I'm alive, let alone in so much pain. If I remember correctly, which I probably don't because there was about a week of 15-minute-doses of morphine and the standard drip clouding my memory, I only really noticed the pain for a couple of hours, and that was usually only when they made me move or walk. Other than that I just chilled, high on the worst drugs possible, trying to figure out ways to make the hospital staff hate me enough to send me home early, or convince them to up my drip so I could pretend that I wasn't in the hospital, or even just trying to tell them that yes, I will be perfectly okay if you just leave me the fuck alone for ten whole minutes so I can take a shower BY MYSELF because I don't feel comfortable with you washing me.
I digress.

I just don't know what to do when I'm living at a hospital. Cause everything that I could do has already been done too many times before. I brought books, magazines, paper, pens, pencils, colored pencils, crayons, coloring books, fucking word puzzle books, my laptop, a little ball puzzle that Vince/Danielle let me have in the hospital, and I always had friends there, and I still got so bored daily that I resorted to counting the cracks and holes in the ceiling, and monitoring what my average heart rate and respirations-per-minute were. I don't know if you have ever actually paid attention to such a dull count of life, but let me advise you against it; unless you really want to feel like you should kill yourself for how much time you wasted doing nothing productive. But let's be a little honest here; the view from the hospital is, at best, a view of the freeway and the roof of a nearby building, and at worst it's just a cement wall. The TV has about ten channels, all of which never have anything good on, and really the only reason you would actually USE your TV would be to fall asleep, which is the only way to fall asleep, coincidentally, because otherwise the heart rate/respiration monitor would be beeping at least once every hour, waking you up, because apparently it thinks you're flatlining. I think it just had a... quirky sense of humor, I guess.

I'm trying to make the hospital room sound entertaining enough to not feel like I'm going to die, living there again for another few days. Granted last time I probably only contemplated jumping out of the window because I was stuck there for a week, and the only world I got to see was through the same three windows I always looked out of, and when I would walk around my floor (which I could walk around twice, on a good day, without even feeling like I used energy at all; it was such a small fucking hospital floor), but still. The only plus side I remember to being in the hospital was that everyone actually paid attention to me, and they were helpful to me (which was undestandable cause I couldn't do anything for myself for so long), and my aunt would buy me about five dollars worth (four fifty, actually) of energy drinks almost everyday. And people stayed overnight with me every night, and they all made sure that between every visitor I had, I was never alone. Which was nice. Cause being alone in the hospital is probably the worst thing ever.

It's good though, right? The final surgery is very quickly approaching, and I can't say that I'm not at least a little bit excited for it. This is where my life starts to go back to as normal as it ever could be as a cancer survivor. Those two words should never be used to describe me. I don't understand where along the line those became reality. I like to pretend that this was all just a really horrible nightmare, and that I'm just now waking up from it. From my diagnosis, on December 12, 2008, until now, it was all just fake. I just made myself believe that horrible things happened to justify why I feel like so much shit, and I just happened to be convincing enough to believe myself. I just think that the hardest part is the fact that still, nearly a year later, I can't bring myself to actually hear the words "cancer patient" or "survivor" and actually believe it. I mean, it makes sense, I guess. This was without a doubt the worst experience of my life, and I dont' think I have been truly happy since before I found out about it all. That's when I started to get really, really sad and cynical and my belief in everything dropped and I just kind of cried a lot and didn't talk to anyone because nobody could relate.

Cause I mean, when people talk to you, they talk about things they can relate to. And after a while, everyone knew about my disease, and they all did the most awkward job ever of walking on eggshells around me, never mentioning anything because they didn't want to know how I would react if they mentioned the C-word. I remember several times, when someone was talking about it, and as soon as they said "cancer" they slapped a hand over their mouth, got all wide-eyed, and apologized profusely to me, promising to never mention it again. Maybe I've mis-presented myself, but I don't really care all that much if "The Cancer Word" comes up in conversation. In fact, it actually bothers me a lot more when it's completely avoided. Talk about uncomfortable. I can understand it, I guess, because for most people it would be a life-shattering event, diagnosis of cancer when you are only seventeen years old. But I kind of miss being treated like a person. There is nothing worse than the awkward silence after someone says, "You should quit smoking cigarettes!!! You'll get ca--uhhh..." It actually hurts, a little. I'm still a person. I'm still the same fucking person. I'm still me. I'm just twenty pounds lighter, and I have been through a lot more, and I sure as hell have a LOT more life experience than I did a year previously. Thats the only real difference in my eyes. I feel older, a little wiser, but mostly like I overcame what will be the hardest thing I will have to endure. The effects are ever-lasting, but so is the remarkable feeling that I actually did this. I beat this disease. With help, sure, but I beat cancer. I'm alive. I survived it. The second surgery is in two days, and I'm still alive, and there is nothing wrong with my health. Fuck you, cancer, I fucking beat you. I got my life back, you can't have it, and neither can anyone at the hospital.

This is really long. I didn't mean for it to be. I dont' even know what the point of it was, but I'm pretty sure I strayed from it at least five times in the last few paragraphs. I just... I need something that I can talk to, even if it isn't a human. Especially if it isn't a human. It's so much less awkward. A livejournal wouldn't be able to cut me off and tell me to change the subject, or tell me that it's a touchy subject, or tell me that I'm being morbid, or just not listen to me because they don't know what to say and they don't want to try to think of something.

Fri, 28 Aug 2009 17:30:12 GMT

Maybe if you actually pretended, for once, to care about anything about me, I would feel a little better about myself. It's great to know that when I really need to talk to someone, the one person who is supposed to always be there for me to dry my tears when I'm alone, crying and dreading surgery and just needing a pick-me-up or a few kind words, is too busy. I don't think you could have put it into any more blunt terms than "Sorry, I can't pay attention to you right now."

It's cool.
I didn't want it anyways.
Keep doing what you're doing.
I'm smiling. A little. Maybe. On the inside.
You just have to dry the tears to see it.
Good luck.

Motherfucker.
I'm just fucking... I don't know.
Overloaded with shit.
I wish I could stop crying long enough to sort through my head.
I don't even know why I'm crying. This is the good surgery. But my summer is over, and you don't care at all, and nobody else really does either. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to feel alone. And I don't want to go back to the hospital again. I don't belong there. I can't survive there.

Wed, 26 Aug 2009 06:26:07 GMT

Girls are like
apples on trees. The best
ones are at the top of the tree.
The boys don't want to reach for
the good ones because they are afraid
of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they
just get the rotten apples from the ground
that aren't as good, but easy. So the apples
at the top think something is wrong with
them, when in reality, they're amazing.
They just have to wait for the right
boy to come along, the one
who's brave enough
to climb
all the way
to the top
of the tree.

Thu, 13 Aug 2009 17:07:08 GMT

Everything is moving so fast now that I'm not paying attention to it. I have my second surgery in eighteen days, which suddenly became really close. I don't know. Last time I remember thinking about it, it was a month away, and it was so far off that I didn't have to worry about anything. but now I have started to realize that I need to start preparing for everything. I need piercing retainers, I need a higher pain tolerance, I need to be ready for bedrest yet again. I need to be ready to exist only in hospital walls for a few days, although this surgery will be so minute compared to last time's week long hospital stay. I have a projected two-to-three day recovery time in the hospital, and beyond that they believe it won't be much longer than a week or two. This one is not anywhere near as extensive as the last one. I'm just excited, moreso than anything. A little nervous. I'm ready to be me again. I'm ready to like the person that I am, and not be self conscious about things that I can't help, things that happened to me purely due to my faulty genetics. I'm ready to love me again, and feel like me again, because I haven't in the past three or four months. I've been a stranger, someone I don't recognize, with weird things in weird places and no self esteem. I want everything back. I want to be a healthy weight again, too, but it's becoming more and more apparent that I won't be able to necessarily accomplish that.

I have a meeting at the Gene Juarez beauty school next Wednesday, I guess I'm supposed to just meet people and walk around and see what the classes are like. It's pretty far away, but it's worth it to me, if I can get a great education out of it. And, after that, we have me pretty much set up to begin classes in the beginning of October because the woman I spoke with figured that it would give me enough time to recover from surgery fully and have some time to myself to hang out with people or do whatever else I wanted to do. I'm very excited. I'm glad that finally, after all this time of doing nothing but waiting for things to start coming together, I can start getting my life started for myself. I can go to school to learn the skills I need for my ideal career, I can get a job once I'm healed up, I have my GED... I'm pretty satisfied with my accomplishments as of now.

But, for now, I just have to deal with the fact that my head is swimming with anxiety and excitement and skepticism all at the same time, and wait for it to either go away or learn to deal with it. Which isn't too big of a deal. I mean, the worst is over, now I just need to make up for all the lost time. I'm eighteen years old, and I'm finally living the life I almost want. Going to beauty school. Normal again. I'll look like me. I have the piercings I want. I look the way I want. I need new clothes, but that can wait. I have such big dreams in my mind, and I'm not going to let them slip through my fingers.

Thu, 30 Jul 2009 15:06:47 GMT

I just want the Technical College to start answering my phone calls because I want to know whether or not I passed my last GED test. It's inconvvenient how they tell you that they post your scores online, but then make it damn near impossible to view them. I just want to know for sure so I can either read up more on cosmetology and figure out what to do about that after my surgery or plan to retake it on a day when I am less hungover. Because I learned last Thursday that that's a really bad time to take the tests.

I kind of just wish that it wasn't so hot out. Yesterday was like 105 degrees. I didn't even want to leave my house because on average the temperature in here is like 80, which seems like a lot on a normal day but yesterday it was so much cooler and nicer. I would much rather it be 80 than 100 degrees. I could take a cold shower I guess, but I don't know if there would even be a point to it cause I would get out of the shower and just be warmer than I was when I got in, once I got out and felt the temperature in my house and outside.

Today, I'm going to try to go to Danielle's house because her basement is cool and nice. It feels like it's air conditioned but it isn't. Which I wish was like my house. I need an air conditioner, but it's never proven itself worthy. Then again, usually at this time of year, it's in the 80's and 90's, not topping out over 100.

I also don't like this heat because it's making my nosering try to get infected and icky. So that kind of hurts a little. Oh well. I'll live. I just want to fill time until I can figure out my GED scores.

Fri, 24 Jul 2009 20:22:54 GMT

There are so many things rushing through my brain all at once and I don't know how to sort through them just to understand one thought and how it morphs into another.
I don't know what I'm getting at, at all.
I should maybe go find some way to entertain myself, maybe piano or something, because TV is just not cutting it for me right now. I need something more active, but I don't want to be around people.

Today is me and my boyfriend's eleven month anniversary. He is my longest relationship, officially. My other lonest didn't even make it to ten months, I'm pretty sure, and if it did it was just barely. And we're still doin amazing, and I'm still so happy with him, and I still see no end in sight. Almost a whole entire fucking year together. It's crazy. It makes me very happy.

I think we're going to go see Bruno together tonight, in celebration. I'm not sure. Yesterday we had a celebration but then we found out that it wasn't really our anniversary. Haha. We both just got really confused, so I guess we're having two celebrations. but this one is the real one.

Anyways.
I'm gonna go back to doing nothing but sitting around on my bony little ass. And hopefully not being so confused by myself. I think too much sometimes. I really do.
I don't know what I'm even thinking about, because there isn't anything coherent in my head. There isn't. It's just retarded zoning in and out of reality, I guess. I'll let you know when I figure myself out. :p

what do you do when you're alone?

Sun, 05 Jul 2009 15:10:38 GMT

Happy day-late fourth of July, everyone. :)

I had a pretty...interesting day, in celebration. My dad went to Portland to see some concert thing with someone, assumingly his old friend Moon who he likes to blow shit up with and get drunk, but probably in the reverse order. So I had a few people over since I kinda had the house to myself anyways. We drank some beers, smoked some weed, and blew off a very basic arsenal of fireworks for a little while. All we had was a strip of firecrackers, some bottle rockets, and a spinner. Around ten or so, we were all inebriated in one way or another, and we decided that we wanted to find some fireworks to watch since we didn't have any to blow off. It didn't take much; all we had to do was walk a few blocks down the road, and we found people lighting off some fireworks, then more down the street, then even more at Juanita, I think it was on the football field... We sat around on the street, smoked a bowl or two, then got bored and started walking again and found more fireworks at my friend's house.

Then we just kinda sat around until everyone left. Which was kinda boring, but I expected that cause my house kinda sucks. There's really nothing entertaining except for my TV, my Xbox, my piano, and my dad's electric drum kit. All of which are short-lived entertainment.

I'm satisfied with how it went. I kinda wish I had more fireworks, or the opportunity to have watched more, but I don't really care much. We got to watch them get lit off in one way or another, and we watched them for a good half hour or so. I'm satisfied.

Today, my dad is coming home. My house is completely cleaned the way it looked before, like nothing ever happened. I'm waiting for him to show up so I can go do something, anything, today because I am broke and I need bus fare. Yes, I am already planning on leaving the house, even at eight in the morning. I want to find something to do today while my boyfriend works.

On a different note, alarm clocks are fucking annoying. My dad's has been beeping since six thirty this morning, and it's in his bedroom which he keeps locked so it's still going off at 8:10.
FUCKKKK it's obnoxious.

I got my snakebites.

Tue, 23 Jun 2009 03:31:36 GMT

on Saturday.

They're still hella swollen and a bit sore and the studs are VERY snug in my lip,
but I like them an awful lot.

My parents kinda hate me for it, a little.

May you find some comfort here.

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 16:27:11 GMT

I haven't posted an update in so fucking long. It's ridiculous. I guess I've been kinda busy lately. A huge change from when I couldn't even get out of bed, last time I posted, and all I really could do with my day was sit around on the computer and do shit because it required only enough energy to type. Lately I've been out walking and doing things that even the doctors expected me to be unable to do for a month. It's been over three weeks since surgery and other than every now and then having a little bit of a problem, it's almost like nothing happened to me. Granted, I still don't have the same energy level that I had before, I have made a very rapid recovery. And I've gotten over how depressed I was initially, which is really good. The doctors told me it would go away eventually, but that I could pretty much expect to be depressed for a little while.

Today will be a great day. Collin is working today from noon to four, I'm pretty sure, and then after that we are going to my sister's house because she is hosting a family get-together, we have one every month, and we'll be there for a few hours and then leave and have a Saturday night to do whatever the fuck. I have already made plans for myself; Yesterday, I went to Woodinville and bought two hollow needles (a 16 gauge and a 14 gauge because I didn't know which one I would need, and they were hella cheap--combined, they only cost 69 cents!) and two labret studs (which it turns out were 16 gauge, so that's the one I need haha), and a tongue ring (cause... why not? I had money) and after my family get together, I am going to pierce my lip. I'm doing snake bites. I'm excited. I have never pierced anything on myself other than my ears before, but I can't find anyone else who can do it and I can't pay for a professional parlor because that's like a hundred bucks for both. And I figure, a lot of my friends have pierced their lips in various states of mind (sober/fucked up) and with no experience whatsoever beforehand, and not fucked up. So I stand a very good chance. Usually they do it with safety pins, and I have all the necessary equipment; if I can get the needle through, I'm good.

So that's exciting. It'll be piercings number 19 and 20. Hahaha. That sounds like such an excessive number. Shh.

mmmmeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhh.

Sat, 06 Jun 2009 16:49:26 GMT

Surgery over. I've been out of the hospital for maybe five days now. Or something like that. I don't really remember. Everything has just been a blur of pain killers and bullshit. I blame the morphine button they gave me that was releasing morphine consistently and I could push every eight minutes to get an extra boost. Of course, I pushed that button as often as I could, because I was in so much god damn pain and they made me walk around before I was physically ready. It was a good idea, because they couldn't have me getting bedsores or anything, and my muscles already depleted enough during my week long stay at the hospital, that without walking I woud have been screwed.

My doctor made me go five days without eating anything, and four days without drinking anything. It was torture. I was dehydrated and starving to the point of nausea. Just looking at food made me feel sick to my stomach. After I was allowed to eat and drink, I realized the toll everything took on me. My weight is now around 95, which is a really unhealthy weight for me, and my muscles decreased a lot, and I have to force myself to eat because I just feel sick all the time. My mommy thinks it's a psychological thing, that I don't want to eat because I don't want to deal with whatever is going to happen later. Maybe it is. All I know is it's near fucking impossible to force food down my throat, and I feel extremely sick afterwards.

Which kinda sucks, because my family members have been watching me like a hawk and everyone has been forcing me to eat all the time so I can get my strength back, because even at 5'3", 95 lbs is tiny. And I'm really weak. I still can't stand up long enough to take a shower, and my walks consist of a block, tops, before I feel like I'm going to faint and I have to sit down. My tummy doesn't even hurt anymore, as far as the surgery wounds are concerned. I'm just dealing with all the little repercussions now.

But on a lighter note, Collin, my boyfriend, has helped me get through it a lot. I've been upset a lot lately in light of recent events, and I've been working on trying to become a better person, the person I know that I should be and that my mom wants me to be, and it's really hard. And he's been there to support me through it with everything he has. And he's been there to hug me when I need it and kiss me and wipe the tears away when they fall. He was at the hospital the day I went in for surgery as soon as he got out of school, just so he could see me for about half an hour before I went into the operating room, and then he sat there for around four hours waiting for me to wake up, stroking my arm and hand and just being there so I didn't have to wake up alone.

I'm trying to look at the more positive side of things, if you couldn't tell. It's the only thing that will get me through this.

Wed, 27 May 2009 18:34:21 GMT

Today is my surgery.
I spent all night crying. Like, bawling and sobbing and a huge fucking mess. I don't really know why, but my emotions are running rampant and I dont' know how to control them. I'm crying now, just thinking about the fact that in an hour I will be leaving for the hospital to stay there for a week. I have to leave my life behind.
And I'm not ready for this surgery. I'm not ready for the physical changes. I'm not ready at all. Just seeing the markings of the surgery made me break down. I hit rock bottom last night and hopefuly there is nowhere but up to go. But I doubt that.

My surgery begins at 3:15 if it's on time as scheduled, and I will be done by 4:45.
My surgeon is kinda cool; I asked him about my piercings, and he said he didn't want to make me take out the ones that would close up too quickly to put a ring back in them after the surgery and save them, cause I told him that my dad offered to pay to take me to get them all done again if that happened, so he said that I should just take out whatever piercings I can afford to take out and they will just work around the rest. So I'm not gonna lose my tongue or nose ring. :)

But other than that...
this sucks.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
I'll talk to you all in a week. :/

Another year older.

Mon, 25 May 2009 18:02:07 GMT

I'm 18 now. It's pretty fucking cool. I bought packs of cigs at three different stores in Kirkland and Seattle, and I went to Folklife, and then I went to an Aiden concert with Collin and Jayson and his girlfriend. I also got a few little gifts from my friends, and I ate cupcakes, and it was cool.

I'm not really sure what I'm doing today, probably Folklife again for lack of any better ideas...

Two days till surgery.
I don't wanna talk about it. :/

save me from being confused.

Thu, 21 May 2009 16:15:09 GMT

I turn eighteen in three days. I am pretty excited. Of course, it would be a lot better of a thought if I wasn't going in for surgery three days later and if I wasn't so terrified of that. But I guess it's still ok. I have twenty bucks now, courtesy of my grandpa, so I can hold on to that and go buy myself some cigarettes on my birthday, or buy some beforehand or something... So that's pretty cool. I'm going to TRY to get enough money for a carton but I don't really know exactly how I'm going to manage that because so far all I have is twenty and a carton is a good sixty, seventy dollars with tax. It is a really nice thought, though.

I've been thinking a lot about my surgery lately. Both good and bad. I'm excited to be better because right now I'm about as far from it as possible, but I'm really not excited at all. There's so much that could go wrong and fuck me over worse than I already am, and there's an extensive healing time due to what they are doing to me, and there's another surgery after the big one in six days, and the scarring is going to be big and ugly and all over my stomach and I'll be living in the hospital, presumably alone because my relatives will be working and my friends will be at school. And it's been making me cry a lot. I'm not really sure why. It's a big change. A huge one. And it's a lot to adjust to, and the idea of it alone is taking a toll on me. I don't really know what to do.

I know that I am probably going to cry after I get out of surgery, if not from the pain, then from the other physical drawbacks I will be experiencing as a result. Like the fact that I won't even know how to make myself mobile for at least a day, I will have to completely learn to do everything, and everything else. It makes me really mad sometimes.

I'm trying to stay optimistic; I had an epiphany the other day about it and I stopped being afraid, which was nice, but I guess it was also a bit temporary because now I'm right back where I started, panicking and a broken up mess.

I don't wanna talk about it.

It's the risk that I'm taking.

Wed, 13 May 2009 16:19:16 GMT

I still have so much to think about, it's not like getting back together took very much way from my cluttered head. But I guess at least now I'm not hopelessly devoted to someone who wasn't even willing to be with me at the time. That was such a terrible feeling. I couldn't think of anyone or anything else but how much I just wanted things to be normal again and how much we should have been together but we weren't. But I still have a surgery coming up in two weeks, from today. And I just had a really really bad nightmare about it. In which I woke from the anesthesia before the procedure was done, waking to my surgery happening on me and being in a lot of pain, and I had to take out my tongue ring and they wouldn't let me put a retainer in it so it closed up, and Collin couldn't force a barbell through it no matter how hard he tried, and when I woke up nobody was there to see me and smile and tell me I'm okay or comfort me or anything, and after the first couple of days everyone went back to living their normal lives and stopped visiting me because they didn't want to just chill in the hospital, in order to see me, and they have school, and curfews, and boyfriends and shit. And I remember that my boyfriend in the dream wasn't Collin or anyone who looked or sounded or was like him, so it wasn't foreshadowing or implying bad things or anything, but while I was in the hospital, some girl told me that my boyfriend was fucking her.

It's so bad. Like, I have two surgeries within the next four months. This is my 18th year of life. I should be out enjoying it, clubbing, and buying smokes and other things I'll be allowed to buy, and doing all this shit, and I'll be stuck on beds and in the hospital, and even when I'm not I won't feel like myself. I won't feel pretty. I'll feel like shit. Cause this surgery is going to make me look like shit for three months. I wanted to get my belly button pierced sometime soon, but now I don't know because the scarring is going to be so bad. I think eventually I might get some kind of tattoo, once the scars have healed up enough to not be tender anymore, that will cover the scars, so I have something somewhat attractive to look at instead of a surgery that saved my life. Cause while that is a scar worth having, I don't want to look at it day in and day out. I hate scars. Especially big ones. Especially big ones in the middle of my tummy.

It's two weeks away. I'm not ready for it. I'm not ready for the pain, or learning how to live life again, or anything that is going to happen to me. It's scheduled for three fucking days after my 18th birthday. How's that for unfair.

"I hope she gets lung cancer and dies... That's not true. I hope she has it."

Sat, 09 May 2009 06:27:05 GMT

Hahaha. I love Comedy Central specials.

So, we got back together today. It was nice.
We were supposed to hang out for a bit so I met up with him at the bus stop and we migrated from there because we wanted our "us" time to hang out, cause it's kinda weird with people around. Idk. I feel weird around people right now. It's a Janine thing I guess. So we left, and we laid around and talked for a while, and partway through it I started crying. Not really sure why. I've done a lot of that lately. Wimpppp. Anyways. So like, he just kinda said, "We're back together." and that was it. I'm really happy about it. Cause I realized what I will be losing if I mess things up, and it was kind of a warning, like a jolt back to reality. Telling me to be a better girlfriend and make things less stressful (or, add to the stress less) or else I will lose it again. I really, really don't want to deal with losing it again. Cause right now, he's pretty much the only constant that I have, and even then, we have our inconsistencies.

I have a feeling that the whole two days of being apart will be good for us. Cause like... we were both seemingly miserable until now, and we both wanted it, and now we're both happy again. And everything feels like it's back to normal. I couldn't cry right now if I fucking tried.

I sincerely don't believe that your teenage years are too early in life to discover love. I found it. :)

How can I move on when I'm still in love with you?

Thu, 07 May 2009 13:45:47 GMT

There isn't a single thing that doesn't remind me of him. In my house, in public, it doesn't fucking matter; it's all something he and I have done together, or said, or somewhere we've been.... He's always here when he's not. I guess it's kinda selfish of me to pretend that he isn't affected by it at all, because I know he is. For god's sake, I saw him cry. It hurt so bad. But still. Like... I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't do anything but cry. Even though it's just a break for the time being. I'm still so... I don't know what to do. About anything.
like, I'm completely depressed over something that yes, it should affect me, but I've never been THIS upset over beaking up with someone in my entire life. Like, this is the single worst breakup that I have ever been through. And everytime it seems like it's starting to get better and I'm starting to let go of it and get past the hurt, it just comes back. There are times when I can't even breathe. I'm not really sure as to why that happens. But I start hyperventilating and I can't breathe until I calm myself enough to breathe normally again, which sometimes takes a few minutes.

I wonder if it's possible to literally break a heart.

I have to go up to his area and give him his jackets and the ipod that he gave me for Christmas back. Which I don't think is fair, because it was a gift, but his parents are apparently crawling up his butt about it so I don't have any choice. We're still going to talk and be as close as we were so in a couple of weeks or whenever he's sorted through his head, we can get back together and not be complete strangers again and have to re-meet, but I don't want to wait. I just want us to be okay again. Cause I hate crying, and not sleeping, and feeling constantly like I will throw up if I touch anything remotely related to food, and knowing that as soon as I see him I'll fall apart all over again.

I have been waiting for several months for everything to get better like everyone promises that it will.
When is it going to fucking happen already?
:(

There's one thing I can do nothing about.

Thu, 07 May 2009 02:50:17 GMT

So I got dumped today.
It's really cool.
I feel like shit.
Like, I was so in love,
and my heart was completely shattered.

We might retry it in a week or so
but even then, I'm not sure how it will work out.
I just wish this never happened.
I was happy.
My self esteem was finally high
and I was off the drugs I became addiicted to.

And the only reason I quit them was for him.
So now I don't know how I'm going to deal with that void in my life.
Cause he isn't even there to fill it anymore.
I just want to do hella bad drugs.
Get hella fucked up.
Forget.
Everything.

I keep trying to convince myself that it's okay,
that he will still be my friend at least,
even if re-dating doesn't work out,
but that doesn't seem like enough to keep my head held high.

He's the only person who's been completely there for me. Like, anytime I needed him.
He's the only person I wanted to see first when I woke up from surgery.
He's the only person I wanted to have around. He's the only person I want to date.
And now, I'm not sure, cause he wants to try again,
but I think it might be too late.
He might just be gone.

I'd rather be with you, do you feel the same way, too?

Tue, 05 May 2009 14:22:38 GMT

I'm sososo excited. Like, I got my braces off yesterday. I didn't even expect it. I figured my appointment was sometime in June, cause that's when I remembered it being scheduled for, but sure enough, ysterday I get a call from my dad; "The orthodontist office just called me, you have an appointment in an hour, so you should probably get ready and go to that." And it was cool. Except they made me take out 17 of my 18 piercings, so they could take an x-ray (I told them my nose ring is brand new; I got it pierced eight days ago, today, and yesterday it was exactly one week) and my tongue ring was being a little bitch about it. I don't think it likes to come out of my mouth, like, at all.

So after that I went to the bus stop at Collin's school, to visit him and show him my teeth without braces. And we hung out for a bit, and when I decided to leave, I got to the bus stop five minutes early, and I was waiting, and the bus showed up early. I realized once it got close to the stop that I ddn't have my bus pass on me yesterday because I got a ride from Leanna to the bus stop,so I panicked and yelled for Collin to give me his. He was about three feet away from me, walking towards me, and I took a few steps towards him, and WAVED TO THE BUS DRIVER and he looked at me and made eye contact and he knew I was trying to catch his bus, so he stopped. Then as soon as I grabbed Collin's bus pass, the bastard just drove off. Even after me chasing it, waving and screaming profanities at it. So I filed a complaint with his boss. I figured that was fair. Especially since pretty much right after he drove away from me, it started pouring down rain. I was so mad at him.

Now I'm just kinda chilin' on my couch.
Danielle showed me this cool little toolbar, from stumbleupon.com, that shows you random websites related to things you're interested in. All you have to do is fill out a checklist of things that you like, then click on stumble. It's cool. It taught me a lot of trivial useless information that was actually really intriguing, to me at least. So I've been using that for the past couple of days, as amusement.

He is love, he's all I need. <3

Mon, 04 May 2009 15:16:21 GMT

Sometimes it's just too hard for me to see things from someone else's point of view. I swear, it will be the death of what is me and Collin. I can be a huge bitch, with the things that I say and the way that I say them, and it's all unintentional. I just come off that way. I am trying to work on it. I just don't exactly know where to draw the line and just keep my mouth shut. I mean, for right now, it's safe, nothing bad is happening, but I feel like at some point my mouth is going to get me into a shitload of trouble with my relationship.

My dad comes home tomorrow. I'm not very excited. I kind of am, but at the same time, I have to show him my nose ring that I was not supposed to get (even though by that time, I will be 19 days away from 18... HELLOOOO?! Free will is mine) and try to afterwards convince him to let me go to a concert with Collin and his friend this weekend. I can probably pull if ott, but I don't want to deal with it. I have HELLA cleaning to do. I've been just kinda laying around for the past couple of weeks, and now that he's almost coming home, I have to make it look decent. I also have to air it out, because I'm pretty sure it still smells like the bowls and cigarette that I smoked in my living room.

It was so bad. Yesterday, right after smoking a bowl and a cigarette on my couch, I locked myself out, while the pipe that my dad already tried to confiscate once was just sitting on the table like a centerpiece, and the ash tray cup that I used was very obvious and right next to it, and the house stank, and it was dirty. I'm really lucky; I left the sliding door cracked, wth a board in it, so I could air out thehouse while I was gone, and once I realzied that I was locked out, I also learned that I can squeeze through a very small gap in the door. But I temporarily fucked up the door, it was thrown off of its tracks and I had to fix that haahhahaha.

I'm just really glad I got back inside.

I didn't want it to mean that much to me.

Thu, 30 Apr 2009 09:17:47 GMT

So I guess me and my boyfriend got into our first what you could potentially consider fight today. It started with how much he treats one of his female friends like his other girlfriend, which would be bad enough on its own, but me, being a complete and total idiot, I decided to open my mouth about it because i never seem to know when it's best to just bite my tongue and keep my thoughts to myself (something I should probably work on) and the only way I could explain it was, "Do you remember when Parker said you are whipped for her and you got really mad at him? ...That's why I shouldn't be explaining this to you right now." And he got mad, and I didn't mean for it to happen like that, I just find it a little sad that when I'm on the phone with him, he gets a call from her and says, "Janine, I have to go, Mikael is calling me." I found out later it was about her birthday party, but still, really...? AND he made her cupcakes for her birthday, when the only gifts I've gotten from him were a ring, a hat/scarf/mitten set, and a pipe. And hella smokeouts, which aren't really a tangible gift.

And we're only really allowed to hang out over the weekend, so that's known as our designated Janine Collin time, and this weekend got entirely stolen from me. Because she's having a birthday party which I would not expect to have an invite to because why would I? Nobody at Inglemoor knows me as anything but Collin's girlfriend/bitch/whatever. And on Saturday he has a "family" dinner with people who shouldn't even be considered a part of his family, which leaves Sunday for us. Which is fucking AWESOME, let me tell you. I'm excited to not see him. It's gonna be great.

And, yesterday his ex girlfriend of, off and on, a year and a half I believe? Or something like that... has been wanting to hang out with him, and when he asked about it I said that I would only be comfortable with it if I was there with them because he has told me before that I'm the only girl that he hasn't cheated on yet, and I have a feeling her track record isn't much better, but that's just from what I've heard; she cheated on Collin, that's all I know of. I don't trust the two of them together. Out of all of the boyfriends I've had in the past three years, EVERY SINGLE ONE except for Collin, cheated on me. One of which was abusive, one of which cheated several ties, then got me pregnant before he did it again. With a girl who was my best friend at the time. WAS.

So I told him I was not comfortable with it, and he kept getting defensive and telling me that it's been "long enough" and that I should trust him to make better decisions than that, which I guess maybe in a way I should, but not at all cause it happened so much and it takes so much time to get over it before you realize that not everyone is a complete douche bag. Maybe it would be easier if I just fell for the right people once in a while and didn't end up cheated on and hit and everything else in every fucking relationship ever. I'm just an idiot. I get into horrible situations and I don't ever know how to find a way out of them so I don't. And he got mad at me about it saying that I don't trust him and that nothing is going to happen and he just needs a simple "Yes, it bothers me" or "No, it doesn't" even though I already told him that it does, so I said it again, and that was that...

I don't really think I'm overreacting. Like, I didn't get mad at him, I just told him that I don't want them to be hanging out, just them, and if theydo decide to hang out, I want to be there. If they aren't willing to hang out with me around, then obviously something is going to happen that they don't want me to be aware of while they hang out, or else they would be fine with me being there, huh?
So fuck that.

I'm so half awake... I went to sleep at like 8 cause I was fucking EXHAUSTED and I woke up at one and now I don't know if I can fall back asleep... I dont' even have to be awake for another six hours. It's stupid.

You keep cryin', cryin', cryin' till you cannot see at all.

Tue, 28 Apr 2009 05:34:21 GMT

Today was supposed to be SO much better than this.

Got my nose pierced. It's cute. That was pretty much the best and only good part of my day. The rest consisted of letdown after letdown, mistake after mistake, and one by one bricks were added to the pile that became all of the sadness that I've been suppressing for a very long time.

I try to stay happy and optimistic. I really do. Granted, in this journal, it doesn't show, but that's because I need to talk about the bad things to make them go away, and nobody wants to hear what I have to say, and nobody listens, so why not just post it in a journal that I'm pretty damn sure nobody reads anyways, just as a way to get it out to someone, even if it is just a website that gets one or two hits each month. I don't care. It's just not pent up in my head anymore, plaguing my thoughts and eating away at me from the inside out.

And generally, that works for me. Whatever. Today wasn't really even that bad. It just seems a lot worse now than it did earlier.

My nose is fine, it looks fine. Nothing wrong with it. Like I said, that's the high point. The rest was basically, get a sim card for a phone that didn't have a charge, stop by Collin's house and get my charger from there and attempt to hang out for a bit until SURRISE his mom is at home two hours early, and she wasn't even aware that I was going to be showing up, his dad was, so I got a few looks that were less nice than I would prefer, and I pretty much grabbed all my shit and ran out the door because it was awkward and I can tell she still doesn't care for me at all. Whatever. That's fine. I don't care.

Then I headed downtown hoping to meet up with people, where I ended up waiting for a good hour, hour and a half, for Summer and Todd to show up, just so we could go to McDonald's and discover that Todd lost his phone. Which didn't directly affect me, but it did overcast a shadow on the three of us for the rest of our time.

Then I get back home, only to find out that the weekend, which is the ONLY time I am allowed to spend with my boyfriend because he's grounded during the week for his grades, is all taken up. On Friday he has to go to a birthday party that I'm not allowed to go to, and on Saturday he has a "family dinner" with some people who aren't even related to him. I don't consider them his family. I guess he and his parents do. Whatever.

It's been a great day.
It's not even that bad. I realize this. I'm overreacting to the max. Not like I give a shit. Little things have been going wrong all the time. Like several small things that are really... not things that I want to deal with, per day, everyday, every week. Day in, day out.

I get cut open in exactly a month. It scares the shit out of me.

What do you do when you're alone?
What do you do when no one's home?
[edit: 12:31 am]
On a completely different note, even almost twelve hours later, I still can't believe I have my nose pierced hahaha. It's hella cute. My dad's gonna flip shit. I don't care. :) I looooooove it. It's like, my favorite, but I'm not sure if I like it more than my tongue ring yet. Depends on how much it hurts tomorrow. Cause so far, it hasn't hurt at all, since it got pierced. It was a sharp pinching pain, followed by "That was it...? Cool!" then getting the nose screw in hurt a bit, just because of the awkward shape of it, and beyond that my nose was numb all day, and now it's not numb, but it just doesn't hurt. Except for when I move my nose around too much, like if my nostrils flare, or if I get poked in the nose. But even that's not bad, I expected so much worse from it. I'm happy with how it turned out. Sleepytime. :)

The word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out.

Mon, 27 Apr 2009 19:26:03 GMT

Today's the big day.
I'm leaving in a little under an hour to meet up with Collin, and then we are catching a bus to my mommy's work, and then she has to go to the bank to get the money in cash because the piercing parlor doesn't accept anything but cash for their piercings, and then we're gonna go and get me pierced. I'm excited and nervous and anxious and I can't fucking wait. Today has been such a long day. I've just been sitting around my house, waiting and waiting for it to be the time for me to leave to do things.

I killed some time and went to the upper to smoke cigarettes with the old group from Futures/Juanita, and that got rid of about half an hour, but I'm still riddling my brain for anything and everything I can do to waste time.

My nose getting pierced is probably gonna hurt, so bad, and I have a really low pain tolerance so I'll probably be a fucking baby about it, but I'm a little bit less skeptical about it just because I already got my tongue pierced and it helped me realize that yeah, a piercing fucking hurts, but of course it would. It's putting a hole in your body in a place where you normally wouldn't have a hole, and the healing/recovery time sucks, but it goes away pretty fast and it's worth it in the end. I'm not gonna like, die of pain or anything. And I'm not faint at the sight of blood, so I won't pass out or get squeamish or throw up. I've gotten enough piercings. I'm ready. I just always get really anxious and scared to do it beforehand because it always seems so much worse than it is.

Like, I remember when I went to get my industrial done, at the same parlor as I'm going to to get my nose done, and it took about ten minutes before I could finally get it done because everytime she started lining it up and shit, I would be like "Wait! No stop I don't know if I want to do this. It's gonna hurt!" and then once it was over with, it was all okay.

My dad is gonna be pretty mad though. He says no facial piercings until I'm over 18, because he wants me to get a job and he thinks that a facial piercing will detain me from doing that. Tongue doesn't count as facial to him, that counts as body because it's generally invisible. But I don't really give a shit, my 18th birthday is in 27 days and he won't be back for another 8, so basically once he gets back I'll be under 3 weeks from 18, and he can just suck it up cause he knows I was planning on getting it done eventually, and he probably automatically assumes it will be done before I'm 18 just because that's what happened with my tongue. And he won't make me take it out because he knows that I won't listen to a word he says about it. So he's just gonna have to fucking deal with it, cause I'm getting it done, and he's not stopping me.

And my mom doesn't want to get in trouble with him for doing this, so I have my plan all figured out. If he asks how I did it, because he didn't leave me enough money to get pierced and I bought other shit with all of the money and he knows it, I'll just say someone paid for me to get it done as an early birthday present, and if he asks who I will refuse to give out a name, for the protection of the individual. Voila. My ass and my mom's ass are both covered. :)

So in about three hours I'll have a hole in my nose. It's exciting.
:)

Blindly look the other way while you waste away with me.

Sat, 25 Apr 2009 18:13:29 GMT

I'm hella sick. It's gay. I wasn't that bad until this morning when I woke up, after like five hours of sleep, at four in the morning and couldn't sleep again until like seven or eight. I just woke up from that nap thing. I need a lighter, but I'm too lazy to walk all the way to Tahir's to buy it cause I'm sick and I don't feel like doing anything but laying around on my couch all day. Everything makes me cough.

But at the same time, I do want to leave, so I can go buy some tea or something... Idk.
Maybe an energy drink cause otherwise my day is goin to be full of nothing, cause I don't have energy. I just need some cough medicine and cough drops and shit. This sucksssssssss.

I bitch too much sometimes. But I feel like complete shit.
Two days till I get my nose pierced!!!
And 29 days till I turn 18.
Fuckin shit dude. It's so close. Both of them are. :D

Drown me in love.

Wed, 22 Apr 2009 12:42:11 GMT

So, I'm getting my nose pierced. My mommy is taking me on Monday at like 3:15 to get it done on the waterfront.
I'm really surprised she actually agreed to take me hahahaha.
I suggested it to her, half joking but only half joking because I figured she would say "HELLNO," so I called her and I was like, "Mommy, since dad is going out of town for a couple of weeks on Wednesday, and I am turning eighteen in just barely over one month, you should take me to get my nose pierced (nostril, not septum... I don't really like septums) as an early birthday gift while he is out of town! He leaves Wednesday, and comes back in ten days..."
And she actually said she would do it, but she was at dinner at the time and we would finish discussing it later. So I called her up about it, and much to my surprise, she said that as long as we didn't go to a piercing shop in Seattle, she would be more than happy to take me to get my nose pierced. So I called the place to see how much it is, and it's like... hellaaaaaaa expensive, but she said we would find a way to come up with that money by Monday even if it all came out of her pocket, just because that's what I wanted for my birthday, and I don't want to wait until then...

I'm excited.
I'm bringing Jessie with me, cause it'll be like old times when she got her lip pierced at the waterfront shop hahaha. And hanging out with my mom and Jessie again.
:o

It's hella early in the morning, and I've been up for almost two hours cause my ear got a little stuffed up from my cold, and I started coughing and my throat got raw, and now my throat is fine, and my ear is cleared, but I still can't fall back asleep. So I'm just chillin', hella tough (hahahahah dishes), on my couch.

My disease is hurting me a lot right now. :(
Fucking.......
I want to kill it. I want it out of my body but I have to waiiiiit.