it’s in the dictionary, look it up.

my eye is twitching, my heart is pounding, and i don’t know why.

a new wardrobe and a love for ultrasound waves that massage my cells… montreal always manages to give me such nice presents everytime i visit her.

except now i really do need someone to come get me and my bagses at the bus stop.

i wonder how my family will take the fact that i plan to go away for the weekend…

last night my little brother tattled on me to my parents, calling them up in the middle of the night out of a desperate need to save his sister from herself and the evils she obviously couldn’t see right in front of her.  my father cried, because i didn’t know what else to do, and neither did he.  stalemate.

i can see my little brother reading this now, getting angrier and angrier at the disrespect i show the people who care about me the most, care for me the most; disrespect for their mental wellbeing, their time and effort in the face of the tremendous adversity that is me…  getting angrier and angrier at the accusation of something so juvenile as being a tattle-tail. 

how could you do this, sophie?!  how could you do this?!?

how could i do what, exactly?  make decisions about my life, taking into consideration the myriad of details about which you, my family, have no knowledge?  disregard the opinions of the people whose only goals in life are to keep me happy and safe from harm?

i know i’m wrong, there is some amount of “wrong” in my behaviour.  but i wonder two things:  how much wrong is there, what level wrongness have i achieved; do my family – my mother and father and little brother – recognize or accept responsibility for any of the wrong in their behaviours?

what are you hiding from me?

and why?

this is important…

jer, you should come home now…  i’m dying over here without you.

wait a second… you ARE home!!

… 

on it.

“all covered in blood…”

james bought me a tub of valentines day candy, to consume in pancreas-destroying quantities when i decide to quit smoking…

so i took some outside with me to have with my cigarette. i met a guy named steve.  i asked him for a light and he asked me what i did.  i said work and school, history major, going into psych though.  he said “yeah, awesome, pickton, try and get in that guy’s head.”  yes, i read the news all day long, been seeing alot of that guy.  “aw, i love that stuff man, so cool!  i’m a total csi junky, i could watch that show any time of day, man.”

he said goodbye (rather abruptly, actually) and i was left thinking two things:

shouldn’t he wait until he’s already lured me back to his pig farm to tell me these things, and…

why must my brain always associate the phrase “who’s your daddy?”  with every stranger named steve i meet?  why, i ask you, does it never fail?

i oughta go buy some more, dontcha think?

good news.  bad news.  life is all about the little details.  haberlerim var:

james is teh awsomes, and now you can see some of the reasons why.  also, what he gave me for christmas was one of the nicest things anyone has ever given me.  i really have to hang it.

i have mice.  monty, theo and ezra.  i caught them fair and square (phoebs helped catch monty, actually) so now they have to live with me!  i’m building a collection.

i have an addiction to nicotine that is scaring the bejesus out of me.  i have several friends and family members with substance abuse problems that are doing the same.

i have a christmas tree, it’s real, and it smells like christmas!  i still have to decorate it…

i have hopes of getting the mess that is my room, my house, my school, my life under control, but the very real prospect of failure is also terrifying.  this is nothing new, i guess.

little miss sunshine is one of the best movies i’ve ever seen.  go see it, now.  drop everything.

i developped a print of one of the only pictures taken of my little cin.  my little brother framed it. 

oh my god, my dad is laughing!  i can hear him over my (loud) music, he’s laughing so hard!  i haven’t heard that sound in years, i think…