Almost Finished

Hey.
So, my terrible, scary business class is done tomorrow! That's right, tomorrow I am free for 5 beautiful days. I'm so tired. Last night after I got back from church, I totally crashed in my roommate's chair. I barely made it up to my bed to go to sleep and once I did, I was out like that.
I had a pretty good night last night. Mike drove me home last night, and it's always fun to talk to Mike. He and Lisa are separated and have been since August and it completely weirds me out that I didn't know. He also asked me about my father, wanted to know if I'd had any contact with him and I said 'no.' Although, I did tell him that I looked my father up after I had a dream about him. I think he may be the only person I told about that. I can't remember if I told anyone else or not. It was actually a good dream with my father in it.
Oh, I'm so jealous. Every one of my friends has more family than me. Angela just hung up on her sister, Michelle's fighting with her dad. I'm very jealous. And I can understand why Angela did what she did and I know she loves her sister and I know Michelle's dad is being a jackass. But still...I feel like no one appreciates what they have. People complain about their fathers or siblings and I just sit there thinking, "Do you know how lucky you are that you have a father to fight with? That you have a father who loves you no matter what?" I don't have that and I never will and that's okay, but it bugs me when people don't appreciate what they've got.
Sigh. Anyway. I'm trying not to linger on that.
Plus I scratched my arm a ton yesterday at church. I liked it a lot too. When I cut (once on my leg, sorry Amy) the other night, it was very...bland. I didn't enjoy it at all and I got no satisfaction out of it. Which, I suppose, is probably best. I'm trying to write more in order to get rid of all that inside, internalized crap. It isn't working very well for me. I have writer's block up to my...I don't know...something very high. I have no creativity in my heart right now. My soul is black right now. But I don't want to let the world know right now. I'm too tired to share my life.

Lizzie Arlen

Suspicions.

So, first, the good news.
I have a phone interview for a job tomorrow at 12:30, pray for me to get it. I want it, I want it, I want it. I need to be personable and confident and correct.

Now the weird news. I should tell you a quick story first. So my very first boyfriend (back in 8th grade) thought I was lying to him about stuff so he made up an alter ego named Luke and pretended to be an angel, my guardian angel. And me, being the stupid 13 year old that I was, believed him without a second thought. And Luke was a slave in America and he was killed during the war and all that jazz. And of course it eventually came out that my boyfriend was really him and we ended up not together. Oddly enough, we're still friends.
And now I'm in this situation that's giving me serious deja vu. So, I get this email on Facebook from this guy called "Ladi John" who is from Nigeria, but is in the town network that I am.

"...Hello.am ladi by name from nigeria..angel dont say couse am from nigeria you wont talk to me.i do like to be your friend.don't you have Id so we could talk better..tell me more about you angel you are beautiful for a friend.do you mind if i give you a call?don't see am to fast just try to understand the feeling inside of me...

Stars are like friends; there's always some around, you just need to find your favorite one...A friend is someone who will always be there when everyone else fails...
A friend is someone who will bail you out of jail.If I could give you one thing I would wish for you, the ability to see yourself as others see you, then you would realize what a truly special person you are..A best friend is the one sitting beside you saying, 'Damn that was fun.
I know when I leave, the distance will keep us apart. But distance, no matter how far, can't change these feelings in my heart...Time may take us apart, that's true, but I will always be there for you...
You're in my heart, you'll be in my dreams, no matter the miles between..These lonely nights are hard to get through. I will keep you in my eyes by making you a dream...Far in distance, but near at heart, you'll always be the angel of my heart...Distance does not matter if two hearts are loyal to one another..."

See, to me, it sounds as if he knows me. And I'm wondering if this is my ex-boyfriend trying to be funny or something. Plus, "Ladi John" is friends with this girl I used to know who I know my ex is facebook friends with. I'm suspicious about this, it kind of bothers me. But at least this time I have a better sense of what I'm doing. I'm not actually believing this stuff. And who knows? Maybe it is real. Maybe I'm making this into something that its not. Or maybe I'm just being smart this time. Gotta love those trust issues.

So this was my reply:
"...Well, I'm very flattered. Thank you for the beautiful email.
For now, I'll say that if you add me as a friend on Facebook, I'll accept you, but you should know that I'm very busy at college and I don't have a lot of time for playing around on the internet, as much as I'd like to.
I don't know if you're looking for something special from me, and if so, I apologize because I don't have much to give. Email me again...."

See, I was really kind of curious. This is just reminding me so much of something that happened five years ago, but like its been taken from a different direction. I want to know more so I can know if I should be freaked out or something. I should probably set my profile to private, if it isn't already (I really just don't know).
So then I get another email.

"...Am so happy to hear from you soon...well am kind of busy person too, but if you dont mind if you can give me your Email or phone number so i could call you when i like okay.... do not say am to fast or something, i hope you understand better the kind of feeling i have for you...i do like to know you more better if you really dont mind...take care..."

I really don't know what to think. I feel like this is my ex screwing with me again for no apparant reason. I keep trying to think what I could have done. Anyway, its freaking me out and I shouldn't have replied at all, but I'm stupid, so here's what I replied the second time.

"...I don't mind. You can email me here, I get email alerts when someone emails me on facebook so I can check them out pretty fast. I don't have a phone right now. I just moved and we don't have a land line or anything, so I just can't give out a number that doesn't exist. Sorry. But feel free to email me whenever, I respond pretty quickly...."

Like hell was I gonna give you my phone number. That's absolute shit! Are you insane, do you think I'm that stupid? I mean for the love of God. I'm still a little freaked out and I plan to record everything that happens here. See, it would fit well with the whole phone number thing. My ex has my old room number, but not my new one. Maybe this is his special way of trying to get it. Maybe it isn't him at all. All I know is I'm not going to be giving "Ladi John" anything important about me.

Song of the day: Karen by Night--Jill Sobule.

Woot, bought the CD, Jill Sobule, yesterday at the CD place near the bookstore. I wanna live there. "Looking like young Marlon Brando..." has been stuck in my head for days now. I love her. Love, love, love her music. I'd say something cheesy, like "It speaks to my soul" but I think it just sounds cool, so lets leave it at that.

Remember. Pray for my job interview tomorrow. I'll tell you how it goes.

Lizzie Arlen

Writer's Block

Well. I finally moved up to Angela's room. It's about a million times better than living downstairs next to two absolute bitches. This is probably going to be very short, by the way, my non-existent readers/followers. There's so much space up here and I love it. Angela's great, the room is great.

However. I can't write. My one outlet when I'm really feeling low and nothing wants to come out. I know that I'm probably just trying way too hard, but this is what's happening. I have no inspiration. I have no motivation. I just hate not being able to put thoughts on paper. It absolutely and totally sucks. How many times can you use the word "blows" before it becomes obsolete? I'm there. That many times. Hopefully this will soon remedy itself. I'll keep you updated. It's kind of nice to pretend that I have a fan base. I know that I don't, but I like pretending that I do; it gives me a false sense of self confidence. I like that feeling. Plus I can pretend I'm sharing my feelings and crap with someone and that way if someone asks if I have, I can say yes and not feel too bad.

I still haven't found a song for my Uncle Wayne's memorial service and I don't know what I'll do because Amy is now out of town. I guess I'll have to ask Debbie, I know she's done a lot of that stuff, but I don't think she knows and I don't feel as comfortable talking to her about it. And God forbid, my mother actually be patient with me and wait for me to ask for it. Sigh. She thinks I won't do it, so she does it herself, which I hate. It's like, just give me five seconds and I'll get there!

Anyway. I just wanted to update and say that I was feeling better from two days ago and that life is awesome. I drew on my arm with a pen and now I need to wash it off before I see my mother tomorrow.

Stay safe and happy.

Lizzie Arlen

Empty Glass

All alone in my head
Empty glass by the bed
All the tears turned to stone
And I feel so alone
Empty glass by the bed
You are cold, you are dead
And the room's shrinking small
Where'd you go when you went? when you heartbeats were spent
And you fuckin' lied
Yes, you fuckin' lied
Never told me you died
All alone in my head
Empty glass...

And a glass gotta smash
Gotta break, gotta slash,
Gotta gouge, gotta slice
Cut through everything twice
Cut through me, cut through you
Cut the skin where it's blue
And the tears gotta flow
Gotta be
Empty glass...

Empty glass, empty mug, empty cup, empty bowl
Empty shelf, empty room, just a big empty hole
Empty hands, empty head
And still by the bed
Still by the bed
Empty glass...
--Empty Glass--Prozac and Platypus

So. I'm not feeling so great. And I don't really know why. It probably has to do with the fact that my period's supposed to come at any moment now. I'm in pain, I'm exhausted, and feeling depressed.

So, on Wednesday, I started feeling this pain in my hip. And it got progressively worse as the days went on. Finally, on Friday, my friends insisted that I go to the clinic. So I went and I guess they think it's an inflammation of the soft tissue surrounding my right hip joint. So I have to take these high dose ibuprofen every eight hours to keep the pain at bay. And while I can walk normally again (although I'm out of medication) now my back is in pain and the sores on my breasts seem to be getting really bad. I don't believe I have this many ailments right now. It's just freaking ridiculous. And on top of that. I'm feeling suddenly depressed.

I went to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button today with Julia, some guy, and Angela. It was an incredible movie and I beat my record of longest time crying during a movie. Gone With the Wind was 15 minutes, South Pacific was 20, and Benjamin Button was more like...45 or 50. So I beat it by a long shot, but it just exhausted me.

I drew with a permanent marker. A red one. Just one line. I want to cut so badly and I'm trying so hard to convince myself not to. I'm stronger than this and I know it, but...Sometimes it just comes and when it comes I don't feel like I have any kind of control over it. I want to so badly. I want a pen cap or a mechanical pencil or a finger nail; a push pin, a razor, anything. Dammit, what's wrong with me that I want this? What kind of sick person wants to hurt themselves. Well, I think I'm gonna let my music go on and I'll read for awhile. I'm so tired and I have to move upstairs tomorrow.

I think the death is starting to make it's presence known in my conscious. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to cry. I don't want to sing. I don't want to see my Aunt Joan like that. I don't want anything but to just curl up and get the kind of pain I like and get rid of the hip pain and the back pain. I just want it to go away. Please.

I'll tell you how life turns out.

Lizzie Arlen

My...Interesting Christmas/RIP

Hey, its been about a week, huh? So let me fill in my faithful, nonexistant fans in on what's been up with me this Christmas.
So first. We did make it to my grandparent's house. It's about an 8-hour drive, but the roads weren't too bad. My grandmother called us every hour on our cell phone (it was a bit freakish) to ask how the roads were and whatnot. Then she asked us to stop in Lewiston and try to get some lutefisk, which, if I didn't explain before, is a gross fish that is force fed to my mother and I on Christmas eve. So she asked us to do that and we went to the store and...THEY DIDN'T HAVE ANY! Now maybe that doesn't sound strange to you, but in the 18 (almost 19) years I've been alive, there has never not been lutefisk on the table on Christmas eve, and while I've managed to get out of eating it since my sophomore year in highschool, it was very weird. Not to say I wasn't happy about it, its gross fish and I wasn't going to eat it or like the smell of it, but all the same.

Then. The snow. Never ever has there been enough snow that my mother and I couldn't get up the hill to the house when we got in. Bucky, this guy who works with my grandfather, had to take us up in his truck. We actually got snowed in Christmas eve and we couldn't go to church. Once again, a first. Except for like...the year I was born and the doctor told my mom she couldn't go over the mountains with me (she was still pregnant). Plus, my uncle Wayne and Aunt Joan couldn't join us this year. Originally, Wayne's daughter and grandaughter were going to come up from Texas to spend Christmas with them, but then because of the snow they couldn't come. Like I said, I can't remember the last time I wasn't with my Aunt Joan at Christmas.

I made out well this year. I got two beautiful piano books (despite the fact that I play terribly). I got tons of pj's which is what I tend to ask for when I can't think of anything that I want. Some money. Mamma Mia, the movie. A faux fur throw that looks wonderfully warm (I haven't really wrapped up in it yet due to the fact that I haven't showered since...I can't remember.) A sketchbook, some folders.

Here comes the RIP part. I told you that my uncle Wayne has liver cancer; which is hard to find and diagnose, harder to treat, and like all cancer, impossible to cure. Last Saturday night, he died in his sleep, completely unrelated to the cancer, he had a brain anyurism. Which is kind of okay with me, because liver cancer would be a painful way to die and my Aunt Joan already had to watch one husband die of cancer and it would suck for her to have to go through it again. See, the thing is that we thought we'd have more time. He wasn't feeling great during Thanksgiving and the day we left for home, they went to the hospital to get him looked at and found he had cancer. He was supposed to start treatment (though the doctors weren't hopeful about it) on Monday (this last Monday.) So our Christmas has been a very...unique one.

I emailed Amy, a friend of mine to tell her, and she said "I hope you mean a good unique and not a bad one." And while it was a sad Christmas, it was still good, you know? For once, my mom and I didn't get in an argument, and my mom and my grandmother didn't get in a fight, and myself and my grandmother didn't get in a fight. There was no fighting. I spent all of two seconds on the computer. I got to see my baby and he was looking really good. Which made me feel good.

I don't know. It was a sad Christmas and I'm looking forward to returning to college and seeing my friends and going back to thinking about nothing serious. Bye for now.

Lizzie Arlen