I feel quiet. The ambient air is nice and warm. I'm looking at my messy floor with its scattered socks and pants, thinking of how nice it was last night. How nice Dasha and I were. I'm sure you can understand. The faded glow of the television screen as we laid there in the dark watching Lost in Translation. She held my hand and put her head on my chest as we watched Bill Murray be a good actor. We kissed and were intimate and emotional, which was nice. We talked at around one in the morning and sat "indian-style" while we lovingly looked at each other. Tears started to run down my face as I told her how much I didn't like my dad. "He's a good provider," I said, "but a terrible father. He doesn't know anything about his kids, except to give them money when they need it." You see the reason I said that was because I've been having the most amazing past few days. But last night, at work, at the restaurant that I've hated all my life, he ruined it with a few simple words. I suppose it was my fault - I didn't tell him a customer was on the line. So he yelled at me and yelled at everyone else. And when my dad gets upset, he lets me hear about it for the rest of the night. I was silently crying, which fucking hurt as hell, since I haven't cried for months. And when I cried in front of Dasha, I told her that I didn't remember the last time I cried in front of someone else. I don't want to think about it anymore, actually.

I ended up taking Dasha home around 2am, which was bad because her curfew is midnight. She kept whispering to me that she "was dead" because of how late she was, but she never wanted me to take her home. We just kept kissing softly and talking. I became very worried because she started to go delusional after I kissed her somewhere I maybe shouldn't have. She just kept talking about nothing and laid on the floor. I remember I was holding her head with my hands and asking her if she would be all right. She started speaking in Russian, which was scary because I seriously thought I had fucked her up in the head. Oh god. I laughed when she fell backwards and hit her head on the wall though. No wait, I didn't laugh. I just wanted to get her to smile. I was sad when she told me her new curfew was 9pm until her mother changed her mind. For some reason after that, she told me that her mother also wanted to talk to ME. ME! God. She probably suspects that I am leading her daughter into a life of drugs and sex, which I probably am.

So maybe I should talk about how great those "past few days" were, but I honestly can't remember why. Maybe it's because I had a horrible day on Tuesday, which I forgot about. You know, one of those days where everything just goes wrong but you don't remember after that because you just stop thinking about it? Yeah. Wednesday and Thursday and most of Friday just looked better in comparison, I suppose. Or maybe it's because I spent so much fucking time with Dasha those days. Not that that's a bad thing, it's just that maybe we shouldn't be spending hours and hours together. I don't want what Laura told me to be cautious about to happen - that one day if we break up there will be no one else there to support us. Like if we abandoned our friends for each other. I kind of am afraid that this is happening as I just turned down an evening with Blaise and Rob because I'm not in the mood to do anything. And that I want to wake up early enough to have breakfast with DASHA tomorrow.

Auditions for play productions were on Wednesday. I wrote my dramatic monologue about a time in my life when my father was still gambling. Of course I stretched the truth a little to make it dramatic as hell, but most of it really did happen. I suppose I'll post it here if you really do want to read it. Of course I paraphrased some of the words when I actually performed it to make it believable, but I'm sure you'll get the gist of it.

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"Alcoholics Anonymous
(pauses in the beginning)
My name is Charlie Smith. Um, I’ve been drinking for about six years now, and… I think I’m ready to quit. (pause) Uh, the reason I started drinking? I don’t know. The same reason everyone starts drinking, I guess. (pause) Heh, it’s funny y’know? Never in a thousand years would I imagine myself in an AA meeting. You see, my father was a drunk. Every night before I’d go to bed, I’d hear him – screaming and shouting at my mother. I never knew him. I only knew what I saw. I saw a man, at the edge of his life, not knowing where to turn, so he turned to booze. How pathetic. (pause) He gambled too. God, he fucking gambled. Me and my sister, we always begged him to stop. You see, the money he used wasn’t his. It was ours. Oh, technically it was his. Technically he had the legal right to shout at my mother and rape her of every cent she had. Technically he had the right to dig into his children’s savings account. He was always searching for money. I remember this one time, when I was eight years old. Eight years old. And, I was in the shower. (pauses, turns head and says he’s sorry) And I heard this loud knock on the door. It was my dad. He didn’t say anything though, he just kept banging that door. “What?!” I asked.” “Get out here, son. We need to talk.” But for some reason I ignored him. I tried to keep him out of my head, I tried to pretend for just one minute that he wasn’t there. But, he was. He kept pounding even harder. “WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU WANT??” There was no answer. I don’t really know what happened, but, the next thing I knew I saw him knock down that fuckin shower door, with those malicious, angry eyes of his. I was bare. He slapped me in the face. I didn’t cry, I didn’t say anything. I just stood there in shock. He hit my mother, of course, but he never hit me. I was the favorite, he said. I was fucking eight years old, just trying to shower, and he slaps me. “Son, get dressed. I need to talk to you.” I tried to stand in the shower for as long as I could, but I was scared. I got out and put on my clothes and went to my room. He was sitting there, already waiting for me, glaring at me when I went in. “Son, where’s all the money mom gave you?” Y’see my mom tried to give ME all the money when she found out her dad had the power to take every cent she had. But she thought, she thought with her kind heart that he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me. Not on his son. “Dad, I thought you quit gambling dad! I thought you quit gambling.” I started crying. He just sat there. He just sat there and said nothing. I gave him the money, but he didn’t say anything to me. He just left the house and drove off to wherever he went. I just lied there, face down on my pillow, trying to forget.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten into all of that. "
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Oh God, I might as well post my comedic monologue as well.
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"Make-up

So there she was, standing there in the middle of the hallway, talking to one of her friends. I had a bouquet of flowers in my left hand, a box of chocolates in my right, and a wide smile on my face. My heart was pounding harder than it’s ever pounded. Today was the big day. I was going to ask Julia Summers to the Senior Ball. That’s right, Julia Summers. And when she said goodbye to her friend and turned around to see me holding those red roses, I would do it. I’d just say, “Julia, you know… we’ve been friends for a long time now… and I was wondering… would you go to the Senior Ball with me?” And she would smile and say, “Of course, Charlie!” and throw her arms around my neck.

So here I was, looking at her. Her hair particularly. . Her warm, soft, dishwasher blonde hair. I was thinking of how red her lips were going to look, how soft her skin would be, and how she would hypnotize me with her pretty blue eyes. I was getting pretty excited. And finally, it happened, she turned around and saw me.

(Looks down at feet for a while and says line while still looking down)

“Hey Julia, how’s it going?”

As soon as I looked up though, I dropped the goddamn flowers, the smile left my face, I could feel my heart sink into my stomach.

(Charlie’s jaw drops)

“Oh… yeah… good, I’m glad! Me? Haha…fine. I’m just fine!”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This was Julia Summers. Homecoming queen. Goddess of the pretty blue eyes. Here was Julia Summers… looking ugly as hell.

“Wrong? Oh, nothing’s wrong… it’s just that…you’re not wearing any make-up! Could hardly recognize ya! Oh yeah… change of pace… haha, sure it looks neat… yeah, of course.”

No, it wasn’t neat. It would be neat if you would put that make up back on, you crazy bitch. You know, so I could like, ask you to the Senior Ball and not throw up everywhere.

“Yeah… neat. Haha”

Then she started to eye the chocolates. At this point, you know, I was just giving up. I tried to hide them from her, but she asked before I could stuff them in my shirt.

“Oh what, these chocolates? No, they’re not for you… umm… they’re for my mother! Yeah, that’s it! She’s in the hospital right now with leukemia! No! I mean… she’s got cancer!

I was thinking of anything to stop that conversation. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. God. WITHOUT MAKEUP! Who knew? Her lips were gray and her eyes were crusted and her skin… GOD her SKIN! Her skin was rough as hell. It was like someone morphed her face into fuckin sandpaper. This wasn’t Julia, this COULDN’T have been Julia.

“Oh yeah, these flowers? (Pretends to pick them up) Oh, they’re no ones… I just found these, I think they belong to Chuck’s girl, yeah that’s it, they’re Mary-Ann’s. Yeah.”

At this point, I was considering suicide. My heart was pounding, but this time, in the tune of death. I was getting nervous. I started breathing pretty hard. I didn’t know what was going on. I was confused. I was dazed. And then… it happened.

“What?! Go to Senior Ball with you?? Uh…. Umm..”

Listen, normally I would’ve smiled and cried and ran in circles if beautiful Julia Summers asked me to Senior Ball. Today, I just wanted to punch that bitch in the face. Or at least kill her so no one would have to know about it. Anyway, I don’t really know what happened except that I mumbled some excuse like, “uhh.. umm.. I GOTTA GET TO CLASS,” and then I ran the hell outta there. It was embarrassing. I haven’t really looked at her since."
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I think it's funny though, that I basically wrote the dramatic one the DAY OF and still performed it without a hitch. It's depressing. All I ever do is talk about drama and Dasha reminds me of this often. I need summer to come so I can start focusing on music again. And maybe I'll buy a camera and become a professional photographer. I guess the fact that people said I "did awesome" made my week. Maybe. I don't know anymore, and I don't really feel like talking.

cya.

-george

Right now, I'm feeling facetious.

Let's start off from last Friday. I worked until about eight at the restaurant, feeling hateful, as Jessica quit a long time ago and I've had to work every Friday for about a month or so. I shouldn't whine about this, but it really has been stressing me out as I've quit smoking and things have been irritating me more than they should. Natalie was also working as one of the waiters is in China for the next couple of weeks. Natalie is my father's indentured servant who he likes to call whenever he feels he needs extra help. She never really needs to be there, but since she is desperate for money and my father pays more than anyone in the area, she helps out. I think she just feels bad for me and my sister, but whatever. That was two years ago, I'm done bitching THAT. Okay so Natalie is there, and we're not saying anything as I'm always the person who has to start the conversation and when it's not me people label me as boring or quiet. I hate it when I have to talk first.

Okay so anyway I'm feeling shitty so I end up going over to Dasha's as she always cheers me up on the weekends. More like I always cheer HER up. Ha ha ha! God. Anyway, I pick her up and head over to the Grange, which is this local venue where middle school girls go to get some STD's from cute boys in grange-y bands. By grange-y I mean totally cliché and awful and whatever the fuck "scene" means. You know, studded belts, "too hard" or "too soft" voices, and luscious eyes. It's like living in the goddamn sixties all over again.

On the way to this glorious location, I got in a car accident. Wasn't my fault, but I was still pretty upset. I was about to turn right off a red light, but this lady crashed right into me. When I asked her what happened, she asked me if I had heard "the firecracker". I wanted to laugh, but I knew she was just trying to get out of fault. Hey, my grandmother just looked in my room for a second and closed my door after she saw I was looking at her. I think she was going to ask me if I was hungry like she always does around this time at night. My heart aches. Not in the fake way, either.

Yeah, so Dasha and I are at this show and I end up seeing Kelly there with Jess and Marissa which is wonderful. Jess, the girl who I am now working for enjoying her Friday night. I'm not mad at her or anything, I think she's a good person, it just makes me angry that kids my age are enjoying their Friday nights when I'm hanging out with my father, the man I be in thirty years. No, I don't want THAT.

Okay, so we're at this concert which is much too "hardcore" for my tastes, and Dasha and I end up sitting on one of the side benches during the last set. We only caught the last set because it was already ten when we got there, and all the other bands had already played. We didn't miss much from what I was told(besides the "black hardcore singer" Kelly told me about yesterday). Anyway, so this band "Time in Malta" is playing and kids are dancing like idiots because they are unhappy with their lives, and I'm just sitting there with my girlfriend looking bored. By the end of the show, I was into the music a little, but not too much. This paragraph lacked a thesis, which is braggable. On a side note, I was wearing this hilarious blue and white American Eagle beanie I found in my room. This girl Stephanie told me it made my head look enormous.

So after the waste of time, we start talking to our friend Cody who used to be in love Dasha, and invite him to go to this party that this girl was having in Dublin. He agreed and we sped off to this mystery party. No one there knew who we were, just that we were "big fans" of the host's band (which is god-awful, by the way). We just sort of sat in the poor girl's house playing guitar and eating her food, acting very stoned. Cody, especially. I just kind of lied there trying to sleep with Cody's guitar case acting as a blanket. I think Dasha just stared. We eventually left after getting feelings that nobody liked us. We went to a diner afterwards and got milkshakes, which was nice. We stayed there for about an hour with my arm once again around Dasha. It was a good end to a bad night.

I want to skip the next two days, but I'll just shorten it. Saturday morning my six year old cousin woke me up around nine to play pokemon. It was then that I was informed I had to baby-sit him and his brother for a couple of hours. I don't really remember what happened during that time, but I can tell you I left around five because I was going crazy. I saw Blaise that night and started smoking again. I don't know why, but he just has this sort of influence on me. I also admitted that I liked cigarettes too much to quit. He picked me up in his old red truck and we ate Chinese food in the parking lot of my school. It was dark and gloomy with a nice thick breeze. I really felt infinite though, which I haven't felt in quite a damn while. We ended up staying up late doing nothing. His roommate Steve kept telling us we were gay because we shared a bed, which was great.

The next morning Blaise and I took my two younger cousins (Harrison who is twelve and Joseph who is six) to watch "Troy" featuring Brad Pitt and Orlando Bloom. I thought it was funny that my aunt Cindy was fine with her six year old watching an R-rated movie. The movie was pretty awful and historically inaccurate. The best part was when Brad Pitt stabbed some guy in the neck and Joseph leaned over and asked me if "the guy ate the knife". He also kept asking me who and where "Troy" was as if he were a person. On a side note, Harrison kept hitting Joseph for no reason and I got really angry. I ended up punching Harrison for no reason and asking him, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

That night was bad. We went to a grill and my dad yelled at a manager. I felt like leaving, but my uncle Harry was calm.

Skipping most of the week, I'll just tell you what happened yesterday: This guy Charles who is ghetto and white ran into Dasha in the hall and hurt her jaw and called her a bitch which pissed me off. Blake offered to help me beat him up, but I figured it wasn't worth the trouble to get involved with him and his friends. A few hours later we saw Charles in the lunch hall and I stared him down for a few seconds. After a bit he started to confront me and ask me, "why the hell I was starin' at him". I didn't really say anything except ask him what he was going to do, but this lunch lady told him to stop it and he did. I don't really care that much anymore, except that it bothers me that people are ruining the world.

Today was the worst day I've had in a while. I really mean it too. It makes me feel that a lot of times I've felt emotional about girls or parents or change were in vain. You know what I mean. The times where you cry and moan and INSIST that things were awful, but when you have a truly bad day you look back on things and realize you were full of shit in the first place. I don't really know what I'm trying to say here, but believe me, it's important as hell.

It started off with me getting into another car accident. I was trying to make a three point turn on this hill where I usually park (there were no available spots left) and as I was backing up, this kid tried to drive past me. I didn't even see him until I felt my car smash into his. My bumper was lightly bruised while his front door was hit pretty badly. The rest of the day was just awful after that. Two accidents in one week, but I guess I deserve it with all the bad karma I've built up lately. I need to stop telling bad jokes.

Drama was awful as I felt very apathetic and sad that I probably won't be making Play Productions next year. Lunch was just as bad, as all I wanted to do was take Dasha the hell away from school so we could be alone. I think it was History that really upset me though. Trish and this Canadian girl Jenna were talking about me and Dasha. "Did you know that George is going out with Dasha?" asked Trish. It was just the way she fucking asked it, as if I was uncapable of being with anyone. I wanted to seriously never talk to her again, but I calmed down and realized she was just being Trish. I want to meet her boyfriend and make fun of him. Her prom date was horrible. I'm glad I make fun of her about him.

I am going to quit smoking this time. It's my second attempt. I'm on day four. Fuck, I'm gaining weight. I don't care, though. I've been eating at diners every day this week. I'm just going to eat until my heart explodes.

cya.

-george

P.S. I also got a ticket today, which sweetened the deal. No new CD's for me this Saturday.

done with all the fuck fuck fuckin' around

I'm sorry I haven't written for so long. It's not that nothing has been happening, or that I didn't want to write, it's just that... I've been rather moody lately. I quit smoking last WEDNESDAY because I was jumping rope the other day and I got tired way too early. My lungs were dying, and really, it was awful. I couldn't even breathe. It was pathetic. Okay I lied, that's not the real reason at all. I told Dasha the day after I decided to quit that I was going to quit forever and she had very little faith in me. I was really very upset with her and I felt like crying because I was feeling so awful about it. Yeah. It was the first time I felt so upset in a while. It actually made me want to start smoking again, but I decided that if one day I break up with Dasha, not smoking will help me attract more girls. God, that was horrible. I was just feeling malicious.

There's this kid in my sister's English class who is playing the piano and is wonderful at it. I was listening with my door open and it made my heart hurt a little because I was never that dedicated to my instruments, but only played them when they called out to me. He really is magnificent, and the way my sister told me that he had an album... god, it made me feel so small. It made me want to leave everyone around me and travel the world with just a camera and take pictures and become an entirely different person. Or at least start dedicating some time to my music. I want to get singing lessons. I feel like I've done absolutely nothing with my life right now. But you know what? I'm only fucking seventeen. I've got my entire life to do something. Why am I sitting here crestfallen, feeling gloomy over what I haven't done, when I can start thinking about what I WANT to do? I love Laura. She always cheers me up. I would definitely have sex with her, if that didn't sound so dreadful.

So I forgot to tell you that I asked out Dasha a couple Saturdays ago. It was really nice. I took her to that bench I was talking about at Athenian, which was on a steeper and darker hill than I remembered, and ended up laying under the stars with my arm around her shoulder and her head on my chest for god knows how long. I thought it was about four hours, but it ended up only being one. Hah. I asked her out though, right there under the stars, soft whisper and all. And you know, I really liked it. Flowers wither away, but that memory will last me a long time. I'll never forget it actually. Really. I mean that.
I laughed because bugs kept crawling on my arm and the turkeys were creeping me out. The capricious spring breeze blew softly against our cold cheeks, however. And I felt terrific.

Mister Rice has disappeared. The first week he was absent from school was due to an illness. However, from Yesterday and on, we have a permanent substitute for English Honours. Disappointing, really. Mrs. Poole is nice and all, but she's just not Mister Rice. I mean, we took an entire class period to discuss fifteen vocabulary words for chrissakes. That and we did portfolios which are worth about a thousand percent of our final grade and Mister Rice won't be there to grade them. They basically included our best works throughout the year after hours of tears and hard work. Mine was simply awful. I was just looking forward to Mister Rice telling me how poorly done it was, so I could cry and scratch at my arms and bleed to death, and then move on with my writing career. Now that Mrs. Poole will be grading my portfolio, I feel I will be getting a "B" that I don't deserve. Goddamn it. I even made this very humorous cover with a picture of Mister Rice eating dead bees on it. I wish you could see it.

Speaking of which, that girl Kelly I mentioned about forty months ago cut her hair and it looks simply stunning. In English today I gave her the thumbs up because I liked her hair so much, but I think she just thought I was being charming. Anyway, the other day she was looking through my CDs and was nodding like she knew all of the bands and told me that she had most of the CDs I had. I smiled, because I knew she was trying to impress me and that she probably didn’t have any. And when Dustin asked her what kind of music she listened to and said “INDIE” I chuckled in appreciation. Maybe I will go to the concert on Friday that she was mentioning to me.

I really want to talk about Drama auditions and how the girl I knew from elementary school sneezes like a goddamn phony now, with the very light "I'm a princess ah-choo", but I won't. I just want to talk about what I've been thinking about lately. The other night I was feeling particularly lonely after helping Mrs. Stadelhoffer build a set for drama, so I went to Dasha’s house and threw pennies at her window so she would look out and wave to me. My eyes were watering when she looked out and saw me but didn’t come out or anything after ten minutes. I eventually threw more pennies (that later turned into rocks) at her window and she came out. She told me that she thought I was her mom, which killed me. Anyway, we went on a very long walk that took about an hour or so, and talked about mostly nothing. There was this time when we sat next to a very grassy hill under an un-built gazebo when the stars were coming out. I pointed out the Big Dipper and the North Star, but was disappointed to see that Jupiter wasn’t feeling friendly that night. Anyway, we were cuddling and both feeling very soft, and after a few minutes I whispered in her ear “I love you”. I don’t know why I said it, but I really fucking meant it when I did. And I think she felt soft because she came closer and squeezed a little tighter. But lately… I don’t know. I’ve been questioning my, no, our relationship. I mean, we can be intimate and talk about everything and UNDERSTAND each other when we’re together, but it has to be when it’s just us and no one else. I still don’t really feel comfortable with her at school around her friends who hate me and around my friends who are depressed because a girl led them on and told them so the night before he was going to ask her out. I can’t hold her hand or hug her around other people because I still feel very awkward doing those sorts of things. I actually feel bad. I am going to hug her tomorrow and kiss her on the cheek so she knows I’m sick of it. When I started to write this, I was feeling very crestfallen and sad, but now I think I actually care for Dasha more now. And Laura brought up a very good point with me. I don’t have to say something when it’s quiet just to break the silence, but I can just love the company and love her for who she is. And that I shouldn’t ignore my friends either because they will be the ones that stay if things don’t work out. I’m starting to love the future and fall in love with the wonders that are about to happen. Fuck high school. I mean it. I want to get started on life. And it depresses me that Dasha is taking so many hard classes next year because I don’t think she knows what the fuck she wants to do with her life, and instead kills her youth because she has nothing better to do. Maybe I can change that. I want to dance with her, or at least take lessons. I will take singing lessons this summer so I can serenade her and everyone with my voice. And finally learn how to play that goddamn “Maple Leaf Rag” by Scott Joplin.

GODDAMN IT I FEEL AMAZING.

Cya.

-george

There is an update coming soon. Stop bitching at me.

A preview:

The bench and the turkey and the stars.
Selma Blair and bloody Rasputin?
Asked her out.
Warm, fuzzy feeling.
Ska concert.
Shitty standardized testing.
English portfolio - what a letdown.
Mr. Rice is sick.
Drums.
Great Gatsby.
Black Cadillacs.
Cashews.

Fuck, I have a lot of writing ahead of me. There you go, fuckers.