I feel divine. I've been listening to this album by The Books called "The Lemon of Pink". I played it for Dasha the other day and she asked how I could like such abstract music without harmonies and melodies and things like that. I didn't really know, but I do. It's not like I don't listen to that sort of stuff at all, in fact I listen to everything, it's just that different songs fit different moods. I'm sure you understand what I'm talking about. The time when you absolutely love a certain song even though all of your friends hate it and you listen to it secretly behind closed doors. Actually I'm sure nobody has done this, and that I am just leaning toward Buddhism. (By which I mean I'm about as crazy as that goddamn Teresa who I fell in love with three years ago.)

I've been thinking a lot lately - not about anything in particular, just about society and politics and things I didn't use to give a damn about. I only think about these things now because they will affect me when I'm old and raped of my GOALS and AMBITIONS and DREAMS. Like today for instance, I was standing behind the counter at work looking at these seven year-old girls looking at the fish tank wearing skirts about 12 inches above their knees. I didn't really know what to think about this, except I got pretty frustrated at how we are taught at such a young age to whore out our bodies so people will like us. I mean, when do we actually start CARING about what we look like? I think it's around the time we start losing our innocence.

I'm very sorry that this isn't really that cogent of an entry so far. I just don't know what to talk about, is all. I'll talk about the last couple of weeks I guess. Last Sunday I watched "The Day After Tomorrow" with my pal Lucas and Dasha. The movie was more decent than I thought it would be, but I think the Owen Hart jokes we made about death and so forth were what got me. Dasha was being cute and scared about the whole thing, which was nice. After the movie I was feeling "nice" so I quickly dropped off Lucas and parked about a block away from his house and hung out with Dasha for a little bit. Ha HA!

Monday was actually quite bland. I went over to Dasha's and watched pool on television for some reason. I don't really remember what happened afterwards, except that we went to get tapioca drinks and ended up playing pool at a local pool hall for an hour or so. I also remember Chinese kids talking in Mandarin and me knowing what the hell they were talking about.

Now Tuesday was really worth a damn. The afternoon was uneventful, but that night, GOD that NIGHT, was bliss. Dasha and I went ice skating with her friends which was quite honestly the nicest time I've had in a while. Everything was just amazing - the cheesy music in the background, Dasha's friends getting jealous of us holding hands and skating and being cute, me falling over because I'm a horrible skater, an old man who did spins, and Dasha lacing up my skates because I really didn't know how to. I remember there was this little girl who was skating in the middle of the rink that Dasha pointed out to me because she was cute. She was Asian and about four or so. I said that she could've been our daughter, and Dasha quickly named her Claire after the girl from Fahrenheit 451. I imagined a scene where I was skating, holding both Claire and Dasha's hands and I fell over, dragging Dasha down with me but not Claire. Claire, sad that she wasn't a part of this cute scenario, gave an adorable face and fell over on to Dasha just to be a part of it all. I really have no idea what purpose this story served other than to be fucking ADORABLE.

Wednesday, which was once again as uneventful as Wednesdays can be, consisted of Tea, a mushroom salad, picking up my sister from an ugly-hearted dance show, board games, teaching Dasha how to play checkers (apparently Russian people don't enjoy having fun), and bliss in my room for a couple of hours. I would get into the details, but Thursday is distracting me.

Thursday was a trip to San Francisco with Dasha. We visited artsy places like a Fine Arts Museum and Haight and Ashbury, but what really stood out was visiting Ocean Beach. Ocean Beach isn't really that great of a place to be honest. It's just a grassy hill that is either freezing or hot as hell - never in between. But whenever I'm there, lying on the grass, feeling the ocean breeze blow on my cheeks, I feel like I could be carried off to Africa and not give a damn. It's my favourite place in the city, and I've only taken there people there ever, including Dasha. We just sort of lied there, kissing and things like that, and felt as nice as a couple in San Francisco could. I wish you knew.

Friday was poker night. It really knocks me out - my father had a huge gambling problem when I was younger, and now I'm playing poker for money twice a week. I, of course, lost. Due to my temporary depression, I went outside and took three bong hits with a Jewish kid. I told Dasha this the next morning and she was upset. BUT WHY THE HELL WOULDN'T SHE BE?

Anyway, Saturday was pretty fun. I did nothing, except eat dinner at a diner with Blaise and Dave Molina, who was on my improv team last year. I didn't want to fucking go actually. I was called a pushover for giving in so easily to them. I don't care though, because I hadn't seen Blaise in forever, and I'm afraid he thinks I am ignoring him, which I slightly am due to me being a hermit crab. I'm losing my hair!!!!!!!!!!

Sunday afternoon I headed to work, feeling gloomy for some reason. Dasha and her friend Victoria stopped by, dropping off chocolates. I was feeling in love, so I asked my mother if I could leave, and she said yes. The Arts Fair we went to was quite boring, but it was nice to be with Dasha and Victoria all the same. There was this stone statue they pointed out to me that apparently looked like me while I was sleeping. I didn't know what the hell they were talking about since I've never seen myself sleeping, but I'm sure they were right. That night, my father got very upset with me and started yelling at me. He also returned the Father's Day card I got him. I could make this story as dramatic as it actually was, but I won't. I cried, and my mom calmed me down, giving him the apology letter I wrote but didn't mean a damn word of. I wanted to rip up his goddamn card and never talk to him again. Can you believe I didn't want to invite him to my wedding after this? I forgave him the next morning, but whenever he brings it up I feel like kicking him so he stops breathing. What's sad is I actually mean that right now.

The rest of the week up 'til now has been hazy, so I won't really go into it. A lot of kissing and giving "presents" to Dasha though. I forgot to mention that she's leaving for a month in about five days, and that I am wanting to spend every goddamn second with her before she leaves. I very recently started missing her dearly, even though she hasn't left yet, because we just discovered that we are in love with each other in the REAL sense. I don't know if either of us will be able to handle this next month without going crazy, but I'm sure we'll have to.

On a side note, if anyone sees me in the next few years, remind me that I want to be a writer, a photographer, a guitarist, a drummer, a stand up comic, an actor, a playwright, an English teacher, a music teacher, a business man, a great poker player, a pool hustler, and a better swimmer. Oh yeah, and a great father.

cya.

-george

Moday

I've been having a pretty long week. I don't really want to dwell on it at the moment, so I think I'll just talk about some of the stuff that happened before the whole "Play Productions incident".

Last Saturday was probably the most tiring day I've had in a very long time. It started out with the SAT's, which were more boring that I'd have ever imagined. It started off all right and all. I drove up to Amador Valley High School with Modest Mouse pounding out of my stereo, ready to tackle the SAT's. Ha. I just meant to be cute when I said tackle. Anyway, I entered the room and this blonde girl just kept TALKING about NOTHING, and everyone around her started laughing. I honestly just wanted to sock her in the face while making some witty remark that everyone would laugh at. Goddamn it, I haven't been that witty lately. At all. I mean, I'll be with Dasha and I'll obnoxiously snicker about something and I'll think it's funny at the time, but five minutes afterwards I'll be punching myself for it because I'd look back on it and realize it was just grossly unfunny. Anyway, back to this test. It started off alright I suppose. I got every math question right in the first couple of sections, but I realized that my vocab was really lacking when I took the English part. I mean, I forgot what a goddamn GALE was for chrissakes. So after the first couple of sections, we had a break, which was all right. The only nice part about it was this girl Taryn who I used to go to school with saw me and smiled because we hadn't seen each other for a couple of years. We didn't talk at all though, since we were never friends, but it was nice to see her all the same. I'm sure she told all her popular Christian friends that I grew out my hair but looked horrible still, which I did because I had just woken up an hour earlier. So after this break, we finished the rest of the test and as usual, I got light-headed and every question seemed to get harder and harder. By the end of the test I just sort of gave up and guessed on a few. I wish they took out two of those last sections because I'm sure no one had the stamina to keep up.

After the SAT's I was feeling shitty because I was so tired and I didn't think I got a 1400 like I had hoped, so I figured I'd go to In N Out to get a burger and a strawberry milkshake, since I stopped smoking and gaining weight is the only way I can cheer myself up. I felt like I deserved it though, since I was feeling so shitty. Immediately afterwards I had go to Chem Tutoring for two fucking hours which was pretty awful. It was kinda funny though because I told my Chem Tutor I got a 1410 on my SAT's the month before and she was very happy with me. I don't even know what I'm going to do about those SAT II's. Never mind, I won't think about that.

So after tutoring, I had to get some gas (this is going somewhere), so I pulled up to a Chevron station near the rich side of town and started to pump some gas. As I was standing there waiting for my tank to fill up, this attractive girl who was working on her car asked me "if there were any goddamn towels in the whole gas station" as if she were demanding that I gave her some out of my own pocket because she was more attractive than me. I kind of pretended to look for some, but I ended up just saying no. She went inside before I could really be facetious with her though. After my tank was filled up, I walked up to the counter to get my change. The lady there was about twenty something with bags under her eyes. She was trying to mess around with me by saying "oh we don't offer change here", thinking she was absolute hot shit (I never thought I would ever say that) because she was being witty with me. I just gave her a glaring look, and she asked if I didn't like jokes or something. I told her that I was having a fucking long day, and she sort of apologized, although you could tell she didn't mean it. I got my change and I went over to Dasha's house because I figured I needed SOMETHING to keep me sane before I had to go to work.

I went to Dasha's and when I got there we just kind of sat on the bed and talked for a little bit. I was very delusional because of how tired and upset I was, so I just sort of lied there and talked about nothing. She thought I was crazy and just did her math homework. When I told her I had to leave in about fifteen minutes, she said she had no idea, and we both felt awful. We sort of just sat there and cuddled for a little bit, and then I left. Without really saying anything either, except that I was madly in love with her, which was kind of a bluff because I have no idea what love is.

Work was of course awful.

This week... this week... I hate it. I want to use words and ellipses like ee cummings did. I'm horribly uncreative, but I think it's because I stopped caring a long time ago. I've decided I will start everything again this summer, and maybe buy a camera for real this time.

Anyway, Dasha and I saw Harry Potter 3 last Wednesday which was nice. I'll admit I liked the movie since "Prisoner of Azkaban" is my favorite book in the series so far. I just say that because I grew bored halfway through the fourth one, and I haven't even started the fifth one. Anyway, after the movie and soft kisses, we went to this place called "Q-Cup" which just opened that day. They have these fabulous crepes and tapioca drinks. I kind of humored the girl at the register because I've been to another one of their locations, but I acted like I didn't know anything on the menu. We ended up getting a dessert crepe which was cute because we shared it like a cute couple while sitting at the small cafe table and watching awful Avril Lavigne music videos.

Thursday was pretty disappointing. We went to Q-Cup again which wasn't nearly as nice, and I kept laughing at more stupid things. I grew very upset because I laugh when I'm down, and Dasha kept saying sarcastically, "Yeah, everything is so fucking hilarious isn't it?" We drove to a pool hall, and I sort of just parked there and sat there listening to the Shins. I didn't say anything, because I honestly just felt like crying and smoking a cigarette. After a while she put her hand on my stomach and I sort of turned away. I told myself that when I looked back and I saw her the way I saw her when I first met her, I would be okay again. But if I saw her like I saw her a few minutes before that, I would break up with her. And of course, she was laying there looking beautiful with those eyes, and I was absolutely done for. I learned that night I was an awful pool player, or at least that Dasha is better than me.

I have nothing else to say right now, except that I am horrible at losing. My counselor called me into her office twice in the last couple of weeks just to congratulate me on my book which was a worthless pile of shit. It was nice though.

cya.

-george

I wrote this letter to Teresa because I've been having an awfully long day today, and I don't think Dasha's ready to hear me be upset.

TITLE: you are still my best friend

Dear Teresa:
I didn't make Play Productions. As I was looking at the list of kids who made it, I realized something that depressed me greatly - I didn't have a chance to make it in that class no matter how good my monologues were at auditions. She typecasted all of the plays, making me the odd man out. Kevin Williams, a black boy, got accepted so he could do all the minor roles. Michael Schiff, a shorter cuter boy, was picked so he could fill the childish roles and maybe Puck from "A Midsummer’s Night Dream". Of course I understand her reasoning for all of this, and if it were up to me, I would've had it no different. It just feels awful though, knowing I did some pretty good monologues (better than the kids who made it anyway) and still didn't make the cut. Well fuck that. I was thinking of quitting drama next year, but it really is something I love, and it's not like I can't take a separate drama class anyway. I'm just angry now.

I've been going out with Dasha for over a month now (our anniversary was June 1st) and I feel like we're going nowhere. It's not that I don't like her or anything. When I first met/saw her, I was damn near in love with her. I probably still am. It's just that PEOPLE ruin EVERYTHING. My friends and her friends and everyone around us seem bent on destroying our relationship. I just want it to be for one goddamn minute OUR relationship and not THEIRS. I want to feel like we're the ones controlling it, or at least one of us is (I don't mean that in the middle-aged divorced couple kind of way). I want to feel like I can talk to her about anything, like I do with you. It's not that I CAN'T talk to her; it's just that we don't really know each other that well yet. Like with us, we've known each other for over three years now and have grown pretty comfortable with each other. It's not like we had the ability to visit each other on weekends and make out all day. All we could DO was talk, and that's how we got good at it. I figure when Dasha leaves for a month, our relationship will either strengthen or weaken depending on how nice our communication is. If we find that we miss each other and write cute letters to one another, I'm sure we'll do okay. She upset me last night though, when she said that she's afraid I'll fall in love with a "prettier emo girl."

In all honesty, I am very upset right now, and I don't feel like studying for my trig final. I don't feel like studying for anything, actually.

just a heads up:
SATs, chem tutoring, failed gasoline clerk woman, delusional boyfriend on girlfriend, work with sparerib asian girl, blaise, and a party don't mix. plus that goddamn dog that kept raping us.

god im tired.