we could dance for money on the streets of new york city

Sun, 02 Oct 2005 22:50:09 GMT

NEW JOURNAL.

vestigia

add it, I'm adding everyone.

Sun, 02 Oct 2005 07:32:54 GMT

Another summer day
Has come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home
Mmmmmmmm

Maybe surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh I miss you, you know

And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you
Each one a line or two
“I’m fine baby, how are you?”
Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that

Another aeroplane
Another sunny place
I’m lucky I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I’ve got to go home

Let me go home
I’m just too far from where you are
I wanna come home

And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life
It’s like I just stepped outside
When everything was going right
And I know just why you could not
Come along with me
But this was not your dream
But you always believed in me

Another winter day has come
And gone away
And even Paris and Rome
And I wanna go home
Let me go home

And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel alone
Oh, let me go home
Oh, I miss you, you know

Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m done
I gotta go home
Let me go home
It will all be allright
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home

So I cried my eyes out to "The Wedding Date" and read the comments that Crista & Julie left me and I feel alot better. I hear endorphins kick in after a certain amount of sleep deprivation, too, but we'll assume it was all the crying and the amazingness of the two mentioned above.

My mascara/eyeliner is running, my hair is sticky and it smells strongly of hairspray, my throat hurts and my nose is stuffy. I feel absolutely wonderful.

Goodnight.

Sun, 02 Oct 2005 02:36:16 GMT

I don't know how long its been since I've updated, probably a while. It's not that I don't like writing anymore, but I read my friends page, everyone else is interesting. Or pathetic. Or depressed. Or suffering. Or ecsaticly happy. I'm not. I'm still me, content Callie. Maybe not, but I don't want e-sympathy with a bunch of <3333333's.

It doesn't help that nobody knows me on here anymore. Even the people who used to, they don't anymore. They still want me to be who I was last year, the year before that, and I'm not. I don't want to try to be.

Nobody, I realized, tries to get to know anyone anymore. I do. I really try. I guess what I meant to say is nobody's tried to get to know me. Make me laugh Callie, make me feel better about my intelligence, make me feel pretty, Callie, that's all I want from you. I guess that's fine. I guess I don't mind being the butt of the joke, being the dumb one of the group, being the ugly one of the group. I guess I shouldn't mind that no one wants to see something special.

I just wish they would find something special in me, because I don't see anything anymore.

It probably doesn't help that I don't have any goals. I don't have any dreams. That's not true. I still wish I could fly.

As far as exactly what has happened? I'm passing biology. I'm watching people fall in love, fall out of love, stay in love. I'm still gripping at the Callie who used to be funny, who used to make people laugh. But I don't anymore. I stumble over my words, hell, I stumble over stairs and shoelaces and desks and air. I found out my art teacher doesn't hate me and had one of my drawings taken to the fair. I got left home for the weekend, found out it's lonelier than I wanted it to be. Found out I really hate being alone, which I already knew. Found out being alone is like suffocating. I found out my Dad has a girlfriend. Her name is Nancy and she has grandkids, but he doesn't know how old she is.

My Mom's in California with my brothers. I hope she runs into some of my old friends, I hope they want to talk to me and miss me and I hope she doesn't give them my number. I want them to remember me being funny instead of this insanely boring, stupid, better dressed person I've become.

And the funny thing is no one read through that. Why would they? God, I wont even read through it. I don't care that much about my life. I skip through long entries on my friends pages too.

I delete everything I write lately,
I should delete this.

Sat, 24 Sep 2005 21:46:08 GMT

I walked into the gym this morning frustrated, angry, shakey, apathetic. I held my sign-in card under the laser and looked for any excuse not to look at the computer screen. My eyes fell onto a sheet going over the rules; it was the usual. Shoes and socks, at all time. But how much I begged to take them off and wiggle my toes, be a little less conformist.

Everyone's so concerned about insurance lately. Doing everything they can not to be screwed out of two million dollars over a broken toe or swolen ankle. That's human nature, though, right? Screw other people over and do your best not to get screwed in the process. Try not to give (unless, of course, for your own benefit) and take as much as you can. That's why no one trust anyone else anymore. Anytime someone's trying to be generous, be genuine, you consider them a threat. What do they want? How can I protect myself? The only one's out there with the naivity to give all they can are children, and we're teaching them otherwise.

There was a sign there, too, that said "we love children, but leave them at home, this is time for you".

I wondered, at what point do we grow out of children and into these adults, or young adults, everyone's so excited about? The ones that are going to change the future, that are the future. Would they be so excited if we were born with genetic defaults, one's leading us to misanthropic natures?

Do we become adults when we find the will to give? To take? To hate? To love? To hurt? To inspire? Do we become adults the day of our eighteenth birthdays? Who is to say we have to grow up at all? What if, when I'm sixty-seven years old, I still want to be Sailor Moon? If I still base all my theories on love on the latest movies in the theatres? What if my style of writing changes with each book I read, my attitude with each song I listen to? Does that make me impressionable?

If I embellish on memories I enjoyed, does that make me a liar? If I describe facial expressions I don't remember, rearrange words I can't fully recall, does that make me histrionic?

But you think about yourself too much and you ruin who you love.

Thu, 22 Sep 2005 01:44:25 GMT

Matthew (little brother) came up to me today and said, "Why don't you have a backpack?" You know, in that little snot-nosed voice, like they're much more intelligent then you are (he is, but he could give me the benefit of the doubt.)

So I said, being the supercool sister that I am, "I don't need one." I put down my purse & he furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side.

"Why's that?"

"Because I don't go to school."

You saw this little shock, this little, is she bullshitting me? run through his mind. He took a minute, looked me square in the eye, and said, "oh yeah, then where do you go?"

"I hang out behind Sizzler and smoke pot for eight hours a day."

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah."

I shouldn't be telling my brother little things like this. I hope he doesn't know what pot his. I hope he doesn't know what sex is. I hope he doesn't get caught up in being 'cool'.

He'll probably get a girl pregnant at 12 though, and it'll be all my fault.

Tue, 20 Sep 2005 02:29:55 GMT

They'll believe that they knew me
and loved me, and missed me
and all call me by my name
so imagine what you want
and hold on to that thought
'cause thats the closest it will ever come
and believe you're who you are
just keep acting out the part
and at the end of the day, the trees all get wheeled away
and you'll be standing alone in a blank blank space
so believe you're who you are
and just stay in character
but at the end of the play
the audience walks away
and you'll be shivvering cold on a well-lit stage.

There's this song by Bright Eyes I used to listen to alot last year, especially in the mornings and afternoons. I turned it on the other day and it brought me back to who I'd been then; the girl in the big black jacket who didn't care whether or not she had makeup on, did funky things with her hair because she really thought it would change the inside. The girl who didn't leave the house without her camera because things always slowed down through a viewfinder. The girl who wrote out lyrics on her notebooks to pass the time and who liked to sleep through as much as she could.

The lyrics have nothing to do with it, but it brings back that feeling. Not that I could describe it, but it's something like just pushing your way through the day and hoping to fall asleep the second you can.

I remember all the hugs I used to get. I remember trying to fly with Raymond through the Santa Ana winds. I remember planning to take Mark on a boat ride when he finally came to California, because of that one time he said he wanted to sail away.

I kind of figured out that some things, people just say for the sake of saying them. Like me, I'd love to sit on my roof and look at the stars, but I can't get myself to climb two steps up a ladder. I love to say I dance but I can't hold a beat. I'd love to pretend I'm nice all the time, but I'm not.

Sometimes it's kind of easy to drift off into how much of what people say is really true and how much is for the sake of the moment. When he said my voice was amazing, did he say it to start a conversation? When he said he hated her, did he mean it or did he not want to explain? When she calls me stupid, does she mean it, or was what I said stupid? Many a truth is said in jest.

I'm starting to believe there is no such thing as the real you. Everyone is just a character, sometimes it sticks, sometimes they move on to the next. I'd hate to believe my Dad's true self is such an angry person, such a sad person. I'd rather think it's a character he's been playing for so long he doesn't remember much of anything else.

It's times like these I miss our archived conversations.

Thu, 15 Sep 2005 04:44:33 GMT

Honest?

The worst part of it,

was getting up there.

Not the singing, not the stopping in the middle of the song because I'd forgotten the words, not walking off the stage knowing I'd 'failed'.

I ripped up the lyrics, into hundreds of pieces. But I was laughing.

It's just another story to tell, that's all. That's all.

I miss you.

Tue, 13 Sep 2005 23:11:24 GMT

We had a sub in my last class today.

Again, I didn't pay attention to anything. Or, none of the big, flashing signs that said "PAY ATTENTION TO THIS". Because, really, I did notice the way people walked. The hand movements people made. I noticed my sub, today, kept his eyebrows narrowed. I noticed how much more comfortable Cory seems around us.

I didn't really want to be in a group today, though I sort of forced myself into it. I'd have rathered just having a conversation with someone, just read my book. I don't know.

Sleepy.

The nights are lonely,
the days are so sad,
and I just keep thinking about
the love that we had
and I'm missing you,
and nobody knows it but me

(That's the first country song I ever heard. I still love that song. I remember 'hating' Garth Brooks because I thought he was stealing glory from Kevin Sharp.)

Tue, 13 Sep 2005 04:16:16 GMT

School went by quickly today. I guess I was half awake, half attentive. I kept singing things in my head, like it would make everything much better, like if life had a sountrack running in the background ( like in the movies ) then in the end everything would end up happy, or something.

My Art teacher has an unhealthy obsession with "perfection". I guess. Maybe I just don't have the motivation to put everything into something. I'd rather do something half heartedly than try my hardest and fail. I guess the slightest, "Well, I don't like it" would kill me, or something. So I just don't put everything into anything I do.

Well, mostly.

I felt like crying in last period, I don't know why. I just remember putting on my sunglasses and putting in my headphones. I wasn't even thinking, I don't think, and I couldn't really even hear the music. I wasn't paying attention. It was more to drown out everything else.

I was talking to my Mom today, in the Library parkinglot. About different things, I guess. Sometimes it's just nice to talk, whether or not you have anything to talk about. Almost like when you fight for something you don't really believe in. She told me that she saw very few flaws in me, and I just kind of sat there. She said she really couldn't think of any at all, except that I'd been negative lately. Snappy, cynical, something along those lines.

I didn't really comment on it, just let it pass. I kept thinking, maybe I don't have any real huge flaws (maybe), but I don't really have any outstanding traits.

Shit, I'm doing that zoning out thing again.

Nevermind, I'm going to go read. I got six books, they all look interesting. I'm working on Stargirl (Jerry Spinelli) right now. I'm halfway through.

Night.

Sun, 11 Sep 2005 07:28:22 GMT

I know it's midnight and a half,
but I'm in a really good mood,
and I was dancing in my kitchen,
spinning around
and I played cards with my Mom,
and we talked.

:)
But goodness I miss you.

Sat, 10 Sep 2005 20:44:13 GMT

Damn you, Julie.

WRITE DOWN 20 RANDOM FACTS ABOUT YOURSELF, TIME HOW LONG IT TOOK YOU,
AND TAG X NUMBER OF PEOPLE WHERE X IS HOW MANY MINUTES IT TOOK YOU TO
FILL IT OUT.

1. Chicago & Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind & Moulin Rouge are my favorite movies.
2. I love my Mom's quiche.
3. Sarah Dessen is my favorite author.
4. My favorite place in the world to be is on the seawall at the beach, eating a cup of shaved ice with icecream on the bottom.
5. I'd never lived outside of San Diego until now.
6. I've only been to two concerts in my entire life, and they were both "Country Fests"
7. My favorite album of all time is Fevers and Mirrors.
8. Baby Got Back can always make me smile.
9. I don't like parties.
10. I can't dance but I do it anyway.
11. I have had four hamsters, two ducks, bunches of goldfisha cat, two birds a dog. All of them died except the dog. :/
12. My brothers turtle ran away.
13. I still want to be Sailor Moon.
14. I have no idea what I'll do when I'm older.
15. I can type 133 words per minute.
16. I buy self help books just to say they're bullshit.
17. I need to clean my room.
18. I need a nap.
19. I'm reading Dreamland.
20. I just got done making brownies.

I'm going to lie and said it took me three minutes.

PASSINGTHISTO:

anotherdayaway
eatingcookies
flyandromance

Sat, 10 Sep 2005 01:53:43 GMT

I'm not sure really what's bothering me, but I'm kind of despondant. Empty, I guess, I don't know. I've read two books in two days - I don't really want to pay attention to anything but something other than what's going on. Not that anything bad is happening, I'm just tired.

I took an IQ test today, not really expecting much, but hoping. I got 116. I'm not stupid, I guess that's okay, but it's average. Really, I would have rathered being absolutely stupid; atleast I'd have something to joke about. And if I was genius? Then nothing would matter, because, I mean, I'd be genius.

I guess I just wanted to find something I was good at. I don't really have a talent. I used to take pictures, but I gave up. I wasn't all that good at it. I tried to write, but I'm surrounded by people who are so much better. So it's not that. I hate cleaning, I can't cook, I'm not organized. I can type really fast. I'm bad at cards, I can't sing and I can't tell jokes. I can't play musical instrument. I don't really have anything to offer.

I'm average in everything and what good does average do for anyone?

I'm afraid that one day, everyone's going to wake up and realize I'm not amazing, and then I won't have anyone anymore.

Thu, 08 Sep 2005 20:22:38 GMT

I don't know if I mentioned it, but a few days ago my Mom said I was really bad at telling jokes. I'm not sure if I would have remembered it if it had been a passing thing (that's a lie, I would have) but she elaborated. She gave me examples of people who told good jokes - people I didn't think were all that great with it.

I could tell you that Sarah said I sucked at singing, too, but that doesn't bother me as much. It does bother me, just not as much. She makes a habit of standing by the door and listening to me sing my lungs out, too, and then telling me she could hear me. That's her fault, I'm not that loud, and you can't hear me over the music.

ANYWAY, on the bus this morning, as I was listening to my iPod, I started thinking about it. Maybe I'm one one of those people who doesn't realize she's horrible at everything and just has this really false confidence. Like those socially incapable people everyone occassionaly talks to. Those people you're sure have something interesting to say, some hilarious story to tell, but you can't bring yourself to listen because they don't present it right. Maybe I'm one of those people who says hello to everyone and everyone just smiles politely instead of actually thinking, "Hey, Callie! How are you today?"

It's really bothering me, and I'm trying to think of all the people who do like me. Or say they do, and why would they bother if they didn't, you know?

This kid (he asked me out earlier in the year and I said no, but nicely, in one of those "you're a great kid but my Mom doesn't let me date" when really she wouldn't care less. But I couldn't say "hey, kid, you've known me for one day and you freak me out".) gave me a dollar. Or tried to. I was putting in my earphones and he just like.. throws it at me. So I say, "What's this for?" And he just says, "Keep it." And I said no quickly, and gave it back to him.

I mean, who knows what he could have thought he was paying me for? What if he thought I was a really cheap prostitute, and all the kids just handed me dollars and automaticly assumed I'd fuck them senseless? Or maybe he thinks I sell drugs real cheap, because I grow them in my attic? I don't have an attic, but he wouldn't know that.

He also asked if he could listen to my music. I told him no, and said my Mom didn't like anyone but me listening to it.

That's a lie, but damn my Mom is a good excuse.

Oh, and everyone at my table is convinced I'm a pathological liar. But I'm not, usually I don't lie. That's a lie. But never about anything important - and I always tell them afterwards. My head would hurt really bad if I lied and had to remember everything.

I guess I am kind of excessive, though. I convinced Sarah it hadn't been raining and that people just hosed down the roads every once in a while. When she asked why it smelled like rain, I told her it was just a mist they sprayed.

I also told Chris I was madly in love with him and deeply upset when he jerked away as I touched his arm. I used that to try and get a water when I was dying of thirst later that day. But it didn't work. Apparently it really freaked him out. But Pita started it. She told him that I told her I was madly in love with him. But really, I was just eating my ham sandwich.

Wed, 07 Sep 2005 22:42:53 GMT

Found out that calling Mark on home phone costs $1.22 a minute. Which is fucking insane if you ask me, I wont even spend that on a bag of chips. And that can last days.

Realized that after the fact, though, so Mom got royally irked at me and I had to give her $24 and I had to swear I'd work it off. I never do and I need my money or I'm going to starve to death. Not to mention, there's something really unsettling about walking around with only a nickel. What if some lunatic came and tried to steal my money and I had to tell him I didn't have any? What then? I doubt I could say "Well, I've got this nickel and if you want it, you can have it". He'd think I was lying, because no one walks around with just a nickel. BUT I AM! He'd probably think I was being sarcastic and hit me over the head with the nickel. And, you know, nickels hurt.

Anyway, I think I got my Dad to pay for it. Because I sweet talked him and asked him about his day and such. I'm not sure how I'll go about getting the money, one wrong move, one put down, one "stop being an asshole" and it's gone. Not to mention if I get less than an A in any of my classes. Whew. I'll have to work it just right. I mean, he tries to take away my birthday every year because I don't want to go to Chuckie Cheese.

He also told me to keep my future conversations with Mark short and "abbreviated" (which I found pretty funny until I realized it could be used for more than things like A.S.A.P.). He also suggested getting some sixthousand and some odd mile long kite string and attatching metal cans to the ends. "Unlimited calling!" He'd said.

Mom just got this thing that I can call the UK for 3cents a minute, Canada for free. Which makes me wish he lived in Canada. I guess he'd have a different accent, then, and that would be no good.

Can call Julie though :)

And I can still call anyone in the US for free.

Tue, 06 Sep 2005 22:29:12 GMT

This weekend I got really angry with Sarah. She asked me what was up and I said "don't talk to me" and she didn't listen. So I blew up at her, told her she was going to go have a fuckfest with Brandon, and that, basically, she was a slut.

We're fine now, I didn't apologize. I guess I wasn't sorry.

Today? I fell down the stairs.

And then Mark IMed me.

Yeah, that Mark.

Swallow Your Sleep

Wed, 31 Aug 2005 03:54:59 GMT

I'm listening to my iPod, Sarah has a headache. This must be true, as she's not blasting her music from her insignificant laptop. I think it's funny. She doesn't.

Anyway, because I have my earphones in, I told her to IM me if she needed anything. We're maybe six feet apart. She could probably throw something at me, too, but that might potentially damage body parts.

My back always hurts lately. This one, certain spot. My teacher says its stress pains. So does Mom. I said my kidney is dying.

Mom says my eyes would be yellow.

Mon, 29 Aug 2005 05:04:46 GMT

I.. I dunno. I really don't have anything to say anymore.

Like enjoying the moment makes it hard to reflect on, or something.

Sun, 28 Aug 2005 07:50:52 GMT

aw,
I love having Sarah here. She makes everything fun & happy but I can talk with her too. & She says she feels really safe here. :)

I don't feel so lonely no more.

Thu, 25 Aug 2005 20:03:47 GMT

good day good day.
everyone's died on LJ though. seriously.
like I hardly have any journals to read & nobody ever comments.
well except julie
who I love dearly :)

but yeah.
today was really good
even though my eyes were watering really bad in 3 of my periods & A Day No Pigs Would Die (book) made me sad in English.

:(

:)

Wed, 24 Aug 2005 22:45:25 GMT

:)
Today wasn't so good.
Today I thought too much.

A whole new world
don't you dare close your eyes
a hundred thousand things to see
hold your breath if it gets better

Sun, 21 Aug 2005 20:31:46 GMT

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just got my computer back,
completely fixed.

Only lacking the fivehundred songs I downloaded with Warez.

But I still have all the songs that Julie sent me,
all the songs that Mark sent me,
all the songs that everyone else sent me.

I still have all my pictures, even though I said he didn't have to save them.

All the things I've written even though I forgot to tell him I wanted them.

Callie is one happy girl.

Fri, 19 Aug 2005 20:04:48 GMT

you don't recognize behavior
or the spelling of your name
and the face that's in the mirror
well,
you swear its not the same

and like neely ohara
you swallow your sleep
and you really can't remember
but you know you are not who you used to be

Not my day today.

Fri, 19 Aug 2005 01:14:55 GMT

Mom & I went grocery shopping. I danced down the ice cream aisle. I bought a bunch of magazines & figured all my money was gone,

but alas, inbetween all (four of) the one dollar bills, there was a twenty.

That'll be gone eventually though, must start doing chores, I suppose.

Or work the street corners.

I still don't have my computer back and (technically) I'm grounded from the computer. My Mom's gone though, to some open house thing (thank you government) at my brothers school. I can also get online at school, but I'm not amazing enough to ditch my friends and expect them to still like me.

I'm sorry my posts suck lately,
I haven't had much thinkingish time. I dunno. Nothing is really funny or memorable anymore :/

Thanks, highschool, rip the life out of me.

oh & ps,
I miss having a guy best friend that I can tackle & who will get me things if I batt my eyelashes.

Wed, 17 Aug 2005 03:21:12 GMT

I don't really understand how, now that I don't have a computer within arms reach all the time, I update more frequently.

I've got this massive headache, but the pulsating reminds me of some song I don't remember the lyrics to.

I'm alot more confident than I used to be, have I mentioned that? I don't know why.

Still apathetic, though it does wonders. Everyone else is a lot more tolerable.

I tend to complain about the kids making out in the school hallways. Part of me says it's really gross and another part says I'm insanely jealous.

Which means it's the latter.

I tried out for drama but didn't get a part. It didn't bother me. I might do lights, I might decide otherwise.

I feel like singing.

Mon, 15 Aug 2005 20:04:31 GMT

I'm banned from the computer for a while.

Like a week, or something.

So I can only get on at school.

But oh well.

Happy Birthday Mark.