During the dark ages of having no internet, I "blogged" on microsoft word. The fruits of my labors are as such:

April 17th, 2004
Why must things change? Even with my short attention span and eager demeanor, I find myself wishing for a stationary environment and a frozen life at times, hoping for a world that can never deliver anything but consistency. I’ve upgraded and morphed and adjusted, but I’ve never changed. I’ve never had to make a decision that affected my life farther than a week ahead, I’ve never truly worried about the fact that my future is a blur and is progressively falling out of focus, because up until now I’ve had it mapped lucidly before me. Even when I decided to graduate early I just pictured myself completing my classes, going to the U, starting a career. I hate that this is anything but sound. I hate that there is a risk, I hate that there is a chance things might not work out.

Oh well. Now that I’m done fretting about my indefinite future I can explain where I’ve been for the however many days I’ve neglected to write. I truthfully don’t know how many, exactly, and I can’t find out. Right now I’m writing this on Microsoft word; we no longer have internet and I cannot update my blog. Rob was paying for the cable connection, and he left on Wednesday for his mission. Things are a bit quieter, but I miss the internet more than I miss him, to be completely honest. He and I are alike in the sense that neither of us sees a need to whine about each other when we honestly don’t care in that way. I love him and wish the best for him, but I’m not going to cry about the fact that I won’t see him till 2006. I admire what he’s doing and I’m not worried about him. I’ll write him though, occasionally.

Back to the internet connection problem- I don’t have any. We’re getting DSL soon but the parentals are slacking. That’s no good; I fulfill the slacker quota for this family and half of the Salt Lake Valley, we have no more room for idlers, dangit! I’m going to nag the living existence out of them until they get me my internet. I don’t think I could subsist without internet, I honestly doubt it. I don’t think I could. After about a week or so I would spontaneously combust and leave my tattered remains behind as a manifestation of weakness yet held potency. This is not a comfort item, but a matter of life or death. I need my internet! AAHHHHHHHH! I NEED THE INTWARWEB!

Until then I supposed I’ll be twaddling about Microsoft word, only to submit dateless entries upon the glorious morn of the internet’s return to my house. Huh.

Yeah- so it turns out a whole bunch of people have been reading my blog. Dave (apparently in polite revenge for my not calling him or some other rationalization like that), Joel (only an entry or two) Jeff (Not sure, but he commented about NZ, and speak of the devil) NZ did too. Whatever. I don’t really care, but it’s kind of weird that NZ found out that I really was obsessed with him and I wasn’t kidding when I told him that I think he’s sexy. More awkward still is the fact that it’s completely physical and that I’m not too impressed with his belief system or his convictions, and that I wrote about it. That’s okay- I’m LDS, I’m sure he thinks the same thing. We’re buddies, even if he doesn’t come to physics anymore.

I’m not too taken back by the fact that they got hold of my blog. I still retain the opinion that I’m quite possibly the most dull, monotonous person in existence, so if they yearn to read about it for whatever twisted reason they have my best wishes. I don’t think they’ll keep reading it anyway, so I hope it explained some things to them. I must be a very confusing entity to behold; I hope my blog enlightened them. Despite the fact that it can be such utter bliss, oblivion has the power to agitate and disturb.

My spring break was excruciatingly superb, how I dread returning to school! I’m too content with doing nothing to bear the last two months of school. I want to become a hermit and eat grass and assorted tree bark for the rest of my life, do nothing but breathe and taste of freedom’s sweetest fruits. Laziness is my vice and languor is my beloved adversary, I will fight them until the day I die. (Especially when I eat mizithra and ice cream when I work, like I did tonight).

Nikka Costa is actually a really cool singer. “Everybody got their something” is the trendy popular song that enthused investigation, “corners of my mind” is my favorite. Her voice can be very annoying, but sounds so cool in “corners of my mind”. I’m listening to her on my beautiful MP3 player that my daddy brought back to me, I’m so happy to have it back. I need to name it.

I shall call it Bartholomew the expressive.

Oh hush up- I never claimed to be sane.

Carter and I are dating now, and I’m very happy when I’m with him. I adore him, I respect him, and I feel affection for him. It all seems too delightfully self explanatory to explain. I’ll leave you with that.

I’m going to work on my drivers ed. *shakes fist pathetically*

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(The rest are dateless. Bear with me)

I just got back from a runway show. Ugh. It was matrix, and I got to wear two incredible couture gowns, but it was work. Over a span of two days a team of 17 people spent 8 hours and 45 minutes on my hair. Yes, they did dye it a shade darker, and I love it by the way, but the other 6 hours were completely superfluous. Stupid perfectionists. Stupid hairdressers.

Carter and I decided to, er, part. We’re not dating anymore, in any case. I knew it wouldn’t have worked- he wants something serious and I don’t steady date- but I enjoyed our time together ever so much. I’ll miss being with him in that sense, but it’s for the best. I’ll still see him. He could get mushy at times anyway. How sad. Oh well; it will still be a while until any event or person will be capable of shattering my unadulterated apathy and capturing my emotion and trust. I don’t become attached; that’s stupid at this point in time. I don’t get hurt; I’m lazy, and would rather not deal with the heart-wretching yadda yadda yadda. Meh. I know I don’t worry about it…

What a blithe mood I’m in! I feel so unconcerned, so indifferent. Blasé and nonchalant, I sit here slumped in my chair with my beautiful dark hair swirling about my undisturbed face. That’s it- I refuse to write. I’m watching batman…

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Yes- My family is full of slackers. It’s Sunday, April 25, and we still don’t have the intarweb. We won’t until the 29th. I will have gone two entire weeks without it. Applause, please. It sucks though; I wasn’t born as a being meant to live without internet access. It simply was not meant to be. My blog and my email are stamped on my mind, vogue.com flows through my veins.

Krishna, I’m a geek.

Anyway, my reluctant return to East High wasn’t quite the excruciating agony I had anticipated. Back to the salt mine kind of deal; the inevitable drop back into the monotony of lackluster living. I’ve got less than two months left till summer at any rate; the checkered flags at the finish line are in sight. After two summer classes I shall be done with high school, completely finished. The agony I feel when surrounded by the petty will dim, the tediousness of the majority of my work will diminish.

And then I will go to another institute of education that I will learn to hate and despise, and all will be well, I’m sure.

Okay- I’m going to go talk to my daddy using the evil dial-up we have on the other comp. Dial-up is morbid and against so many of my principles, but it’s daddy. I love daddy.

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So Carter and I are back together now. Huh.

I adore him. I spent all afternoon with him, just being with him. How could I do this? He’s such a romantic- this isn’t characteristic of me at all. A romantic? Come on now, what is this nonsense? Romance? How silly.

But it’s not. I love the time we spend together.

But I’m definitely not mawkish. I despise the maudlin in all their weepy glory, and the slushy sentiment they choose to submerge their existence in.

Hmmm… didn’t do a minute of homework today although I had hours begging to be invested in the academic absurdity that is East high. The illogicality of doing something as inane as homework is daunting, so I simply don’t do it. Instead I eat pop tarts with Carter. 

I’m going to go to bed now. I’m going to have to get up at such an ungodly hour of the morn so that I feel slightly prepared at school. Meh. What rubbish.

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I should be in my first period right now, but all we’re doing in Jr. Choir is measuring the men for their uniforms, and I’m a bad person, therefore I’m home instead. So here am I, sipping a slim fast, typing about nothing. Slim fasts are disgusting- no wonder they’re only 2 grams of fat; it doesn’t qualify as food. It’s icky.

But I’m hungry and determined to keep my gram allowance down to 41grams a day, so here I bitterly sip. Even though I’m still considered underweight for my height (I’m 5’8 ½’’ and I’m 122) I want to get back down to 115 again. I just think I look better lithe and healthy. Granted my new found “curves” are nice, but I hate having a semi-squishy stomach. How vexing. These shakes are categorically ghastly, but nothing comes without a price. Darn.

I’m going to Evita on Saturday. How marvelous; I simply can’t wait. News has it that the actress playing Evita is superb, so I’m not even worried about the Utah theatre debasing the play. Huzzah.


My family is the most incompetent social unit in the world. Honestly- I kid you not. They are so incredibly incapable it’s depressing, and the fact that I have to live with them depresses me still more. Argh.

Today I had no idea what time I was working. Usually I’m on at 4:30 or 5:00, so I asked my mother for a ride around 4:15. She made me promise to do some of her grading for her, and after the oath had been sworn I was whisked away to Spag. Upon arrival I found out that I wasn’t on call until 6:15, so I walked home. I returned by way of bus at 6:15 to find my mother there, furious. Apparently she had been looking for me for 3 hours and had called up every single persona she associated me with, completely freaking out. She got mad, and then stalked away back home.

I can understand why she’s worried. It makes sense. It’s frustrating, however, that I know she wouldn’t have freaked out if she didn’t think I was with Carter or Elisse. If the only danger was me getting kidnapped by some freak downtown she wouldn’t have cared. We’ve been in situations like this before, and she’s stayed calm, usually waiting for the problem to work itself out. It always has. Once in Cincinnati she left me at church, a 45 minute drive from our house. She noticed my absence the second she got on the freeway, but figured I was a nice competent 7 year old and that I would find my way home. I did. I always do. If it was me lying to her, however, she has to freak out and hunt me down. The more time she spends looking the better; more to get me in trouble with. How annoying. Can’t they just forget that I live here? Can’t they just pretend like they have no daughter? I want to move out so badly. I think I would fare much better in an apartment then in the arduous confinement of family life. Bah.
I don’t think I’ll write my scarlet letter essay. We have a sub during first period tomorrow; I think I’ll just do it then. I don’t care. The bothers of school no longer worry me; there is now very little I can’t shrug off. I’m sure this isn’t a good thing; a terrible change if it be anything, but it feels absolutely divine to cast my academic cares into the black abyss of ennui and complete indifference.

I need to finish this, though. I just need to push through and take my SAT and ACT and finish my classes and graduate and get my license. Every action listed has to be done sooner rather than later, I know I need to do this. I don’t want to, though. An incredibly violent case of Spring fever is attacking me; we’re wrestling and I’m losing. Spring fever is just beating me and making fun of me and then beating me again. It’s a pleasurable defeat, however, so my resistance is nothing staggering. I just want to become a hermit and sleep in a cardboard box downtown, never to think again. Why am I craving my intellectual demise? See what spag and public education in Utah have done to me? I stand completely robbed of all ambition. Not my fault, though; why on earth would I own up to this when I can blame it on East high school’s utterly pathetic funding? That would be something an emotionally stable person would do, you silly Canadian…

We still don’t have the internet. Slackers. Stupid stupid slackers.

I can’t stand my own kind….

Aaahhh. Hmmmmm. Internet....

I have returned. I've rejoined you in all my high-speed connection glory. Huzzah!

It's okay- I haven't died quite yet. This being the longest respite from my daily blogging since I began it back it early Feb, I'm sure you dears have suspected a scandalous plan involving the British Mafia and a corn dog, but alas, my life is as monotonous as ever. Things have happened, mind you, so I suppose monotony isn't as dominant as I present it to be, but I still feel quite the same. A lot of things have happened, though. A lot a lot a lot. I've written about them, I've just been unable to post them because we don't have internet. ( Dial-up is in our home, but Dial-up simply isn't internet, but a morbid mockery of connection that serves chiefly to frustrate and blaspheme. I don't believe in dial-up, I just don't. It's evil.) I've been writing entries on Microsoft Word and will transport them as soon as we get DSL (If there is any type of deity in that big blue sky this glorious day will be tomorrow, but Jeff is slacking off so I don't know when this will happen).

I have a couple phone calls to make, so I'll leave you now. Farewell, dearest reader.

Five days. A lot has happened in the five days since I last wrote. Explanations are anything but necessary; details would do nothing but clutter. An overview, however:

Daddy came. He arrived early on the 10th, left at 8:30 tonight. We talked about what we needed to talk about (i.e. moving out, etc.), went out to eat a couple of times. Since Rob leaves so soon I saw extraordinarily little of the man, which is a shame, but understandable.

I gathered with people, I met people.

I met Carter. I adore Carter. The image of him still burns fervently, yet my mind is restraining the picturesque face from flowing to my fingers and out to you, my dearest reader. He’s a poet. He’s a philosophe. He’s cute. Almost everything I would want, but whatever bond is indeed wrapping slowly around us is undeveloped. Today he met my mother, father, and Jeff. I wasn’t expecting this at all, and definitely didn’t desire it, but it went splendidly. I think my mother likes him, which I’m happy with. He’s a good guy, he’s very honest. He didn’t hold back anything from dear old mum, which I was surprised with. I admire him.

Oh- and NZ! Forgot all about the lad, though I’ve hung out with him a couple of times. Yes- he’s still sexy. He buzzed his Mohawk and now he’s very, very sexy. Elisse and him have a thing going on, I’m not going to endeavor to name it. Yeah- I definitely didn’t expect it, but there you go. I’m fine with that; the conversation I held with him about beliefs, religion, etc., confirmed my suspicion that the attraction I feel is purely physical, as it still is. Yes- we’re better friends now and he’s with Elisse, but he’s still sexy. Nice to look at, and I told him that today. Still sexy.

Elisse is incredibly sick, and is about to die. Not really, but she was hospitalized. She’s currently away getting better, I do hope she recovers.

I go to bed now. Farewell.

Yes- ivory is tired. Whoever thinks that ivory should quit her job raise your hands now. Unanimous? Fantastic. I give my two weeks notice tomorrow.

Not.

Today was tiring. Went to school, failed my physics test, came home and went to work. The simple dread my life has contained lately is disheartening; the minimalism of my days exasperate me at times. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m going to graduate early, but what after that? Appalling visions of my career at Spag lasting into my 30s plague me every time I close at work, distracting me. Distraction is so ambiguous, it can be either good or bad depending what light you choose to view it in.

My writing lately has been pathetic, I know. But today is the first day of spring break, so it can only improve. I’m going to bed now, I’m tired.

Yeah- these are sexy.

really, really, REALLY sexy. Hmmm….shoegasm…

I hate my family with an ardent passion that will never flicker or spoil. They're evil. They're all evil. It turns out that Robert deleted ALL of my music. ALL of it. He saved five dido songs. The rest is all gone. Stupid slut.

I'm going to move out. I leave this house or I leave mortality.

I can't stand these people anymore. They're prying, inconsiderate, and selfish. I've had it. Honestly, I have.

meh. I don't feel like writing today. I went running and then decided to blow my good deeds away with 40 grams of Reese’s pieces, being the brilliant philosophe that I am.

My daddy comes in precisely 4 days. These last two school days need to come to a festinate end so that I can uphold this illusion of sanity, therefore preserving my plans for the weekend. I'm going to do something with Elisse and Joel and hopefully Dave. Dave's an absolute doll. I adore Dave.

This entry never really had a purpose anyway, so I've nothing against leaving you all now. Bubye!

I wore my sexy new shoes today. They look 80s punk, but I wore nothing 80s punk with them today, so they did look a bit too saucy. That's okay, though- everyone knows I have daring tastes at times and everyone I talked to today loved them. I like my new shoes....

I adore John. I absolutely adore him. There was an assembly today; the first one I've been too all year. It was the Utah Shakespearean Festival players, they put on 12th night (hence the impetus behind my attendance.) Everyone around us got lost by the second scene, so decided to re-write the play into something more idiot-friendly. We've affectionately dubbed it "The adventures of Sir Toby and the other strange guy wearing yellow garters (tee hee hee hee)". Overall we think it will be a smash hit.

Production will start in a week.

Do you dears remember the busser that I was in love with a while back? I believe I named him Claudio. Yes, that was it, Claudio.

Well, I didn't forget about him. He's still beautiful and reserved and perfect on the superficial levels. I think he quit, you see, and therefore hasn't been present at work to dominate my thoughts. A shame. Such a beautiful boy. It seems like everybody quit at spag, I feel like a veteran.

What ever did happen to Claudio? I'll keep you updated.

What a perfect day I've had. Relaxing and peaceful, two emotions that have fled my life recently. Tomorrow I'm back to the rush and anxiety of school, and I'm sad to go. Spring break, however, is four short days away, although I'm sure I'll fall into a motionless time warp the second I step back into school. Daddy comes in six days on the tenth. He'll be here for most of spring break.

Random persons come everyday to see the house. Mum thinks we'll sell soon.

Rob leaves for Switzerland on the 14th.

In three months or so I'll graduate from High school.

My life is about to change.

I woke to the blinding sun piercing my curtains and encasing me. I feel drowsy, but happy to see such a beautiful Sunday ahead of me. This weekend has been general conference, thus the fear I felt when walking into work yesterday. Conference weekend is infamous; busy to the max and yet mysteriously thought to be fun by everyone. Yesterday wasn’t too bad, but we got incredibly busy around 7:00. If the truth must be told, I did have a lot of fun. I was doing to gos, and I think they are the most superb things in the world. Everybody thinks I’m crazy, but they’re fun. I like doing something that the other employees actually view as work, and seeing how fast I can do them is amusing. I get tips, too ($3 for the entire night, how could I resist warming up to them?)

I didn’t like missing the conference, but I watched as much as I could. I watched half the first session, and I’ll be listening to all of them today. I love conference; yes, some times it can be unbelievably hard to stay awake, but I most of the talks are able to hold my attention. Dallin H. Oaks gave a fabulous talk on preparation, one I was very glad to hear. I think David B. Haight is going to die, poor man; he had to be practically carried onto the stand to then counsel the people in his feeble voice. That’s okay, the man is going to have a killer time after this life.

I feel lethargic today, very lethargic. I think I’ll take a walk and let the brisk wind whip up my senses and excite my awareness. Farewell.

My finger lazily circles the rim of my glass as I sit in the back room, staring blankly at the massive mess before me. Garbage cans full of bread and spag, bags containing every kind of filth imaginable, and cardboard boxes litter the floor around me, composing the immaculate atmosphere that has become employee dining at OSF. I was grossed out at first, but eating in the dark with the trash is an everyday occurrence for those who labor at the spagfac, thus I have adapted and don’t know what I would do with myself if I came one day to find a clean back room. My break is stupid; dumb labor laws have made sure to inconvenience me in any way possible. I feel terrible about this outlook, really I do; child labor in the past was abominable, I’m thankful this country has done something about the calamity. But I’m not going to deny that having to take a break every 5 hours sucks. I’d rather work and get paid then sit in the back, pathetically eating my spumoni while my eyes linger tenaciously on the clutter surrounding me. It does give me time to think though, I’ll give you that. While slowly fiddling with my food I allow my mind to glaze over the occurrences of the day, my eyes lolled back, my demeanor sloppy. I’m sure the managers suspect I use this time to strategically shoot up in the bathroom and then proceed to enjoy my high talking to the garbage; I phase completely out, only to wake once my thirty minutes of unremitting stupor have silently slipped by. Sometimes I don’t remember what thoughts and amusements run through my head, other times I dwell on them until the next day and beyond. I always remember the feeling, however, of immobility and incongruous stillness. It feels odd to have bussers and servers and hosts run about you, rushing to their food and yelling for follows and pick-ups, while you sit in a trance that borders on a coma. I don’t know if I like such a feeling, but I suspect I spend much more time in the unbefitting state then I think.

I stare at the cracks in the ceiling as my mind mulls over my actions today. Today I had a talk about religion with NZ and this boy we’ll call S. NZ is sexy, but I’m afraid he strikes me as a wee bit dim at times. Its funny that he comes across as so open minded yet hardly debates as such. He felt no need to support what he was saying and kept handling certain technicalities and personal beliefs as fact when, in any light, they were opinion. “But that’s stupid; the God head is one being.” He would roll his eyes at certain remarks he didn’t agree with, and then fallaciously inform me that I was wrong and fail to offer an explanation. I was disappointed. I think that he’s smart, and yet I stand overwhelmed by this outlandish folly exuded by him. S was nice about it, and politely disagreed. I think I like the boy- he’s adorable and so very very sweet. He’s funny, too. Why, oh why, does he have to smoke a chart-topping amount of pot a day? Elisse thinks I’m “playing” him. I’m not sure what she means by such a statement, because I’m afraid I don’t correspond with the conventional definition of a player at all. Yes, I’m nice to the boy and I esteem him and his beliefs, I flirted with him today. I like him, but I hate the fact that he’s a stoner. A very big stoner. This boy smokes a TON of weed. I still adore him, though.

I shrug and look down at my spumoni. The spumoni has begun to melt, the small portion of the ice cream that is still somewhat frozen bobs on the top of the melted cream, lulling about in the multi-colored pottage. I gape at the paste, stupidly wondering why anyone would ever dream of making pistachio ice cream. What an absurd idea. Huh. After school I didn’t do much at all. I came home, played some sims. I love that game. I’m building this house that is absolutely divine, I can’t wait to finish it. I never actually “live” in that game. Once I’ve finished the house I kill the inhabitants and leave the house standing as a lonely landmark to the career I have yet to begin. I do hope I become an architect. How absolutely corking that would be.

Mindlessly I glance down at my watch, realizing I have 30 seconds left of my break. This takes just a second to register, the realization slowly dawning on me. Forcefully I climb out of my buoyant reverie, peeking back to skim over the fruits of this session, which are now swimming lackadaisically in the palpable reality of my lunacy. I let the smallest of smiles escape from my tired lips, my eyes twinkling at my quirky mannerisms. I pick of my tray, drop my barely-touched spoon into the tub and return to work.