i feel like doing something right now...but i don't know what. i want to go somewhere and hang out with people i don't necessarily get to hang out with and have some fun. i'm bored out of my fucking mind. except i just typed 'soul.' how can one be bored out of one's soul? is my subconscious trying to tell me something?

i don't know what to think lately. i feel like a pair of eyes and two hands, typing. i could fly if i wanted to...all around my is unreal and i want to take off and get out of here and use of some of the nervous energy stored in me to DO something. something new and different. all through chem lab my hands were chaking, i wouldn't notice it until i tried to use a dropper to put something in a test tube and then i was worried i was going to spill it. fuck. i think i have cramps that would be just perfect to get my perios the day i'm going to hannah's for the weekend. my dad took all my stuff to mulberry today to transfer it to mica's car so i wouldn't have to carry it on the bus. i hope it got there. somehow it feels like i'm using trivial things to distranct me from the important stuff i should probably be thinking about right now...like what i want from you, dano. i don't want to forgive you and be back just like that because yeah things are better than they've been in a while but nothing's really been resolved. maybe you do need some space. but last night i was looking at the list and i saw some shows and thought 'i should tell toni about that...' and then i realized that you wouldn't want to hear it from me anymore...wouldn't want to do things...and that's when it hurt. i was so empty...dunno why...cuz i really missed being able to go places with you and the prospect of that never happening again was really sad. sure i've got other friends but i was worried about them since you hang out with most of them too and i didn't want to lose everyone. i never want to lose everyone and i especially never want to lose you. but it seems like i've lost you anyway, mentally. out on the field was the first time lately i didn't feel like it was hopeless, like i'd permanently lost you. but i don't want to forgive you. i don't want to just tell you it's okay cuz it's really not okay to treat people like that. it's not okay to bitch me out for a million things i never did, or never intended to do. it's all in your head, really. at least the my being evil bit. and i was sick of talking you through the problems in your love life and having you flip out every time i did anything remotely flirtatious with anyone. i couldn't talk to you about anything like you were talking to me about because i'd get shut out. and that's exactly what happened. so i tried to stop caring, told myself it didn't matter, i had other friends...but none of my other friends are like you. i'd miss you so much, even as fucked up as its gotten. i started avoiding calling you a few weeks ago...i didn't want the long silent awkward phone calls. and i stopped searching you out. but despite sometimes not being able to deal with you and the jealous bitch you've been to me lately...i still do care a lot about you.

when the night has come
and the land is dark
and the moon is the only light we see

no i won't be afraid
i won't be afraid
just as long as you stand
stand by me

so darling darling stand by me
stand by me
stand by me

if the sky that we look upon
should tumble and fall
and the mountains should crumble into the sea
i won't cry
i won't cry
no i won't shed a tear
just as long as you stand
stand by me

i have that stuck in my head. alternating with bits of 'lean on me.' they kinda go together...one about being there for people and the other about people being there.

two summers ago i was in a show with chelsea at ctc. every day in the dressing room while we were getting ready, we listened to lean on me. i think that's the closest-knit cast i've ever been part of...we didn't want the show to end. the last night we got back to the dressing room after the show and a few people started crying...then somebody put on lean on me and by the end all of us were belting it out and crying. it must've been about 10:30 pm

crazy stuff dude. i miss that show.

toni is making silly noises. she is a silly girl [like her dog, she says]. the end.

it's not a shock. it's not even really affecting me that much. no crying...our friendship was a wreck anyway. nothing's changed except that we've given up trying. i'm hurt more by what she said about me than the fact that i've been ditched. i am not that person she described, not at all. can't you see me? no...you're too wrapped up in your own little world to even try. yes i've changed...there was so much you didn't see before. but i'm just numbly hurt, and pissed off. it doesn't feel real.

dance today was odd. i got there...and i was standing at the barre and i looked in the mirror and i'm as skinny as nearly everyone there...it was really odd. i mean these are dancer types...and i'm fine usually with how much i weight and such but when i realized i was *that* skinny i got a little scared.

i should go sleep. i make no sense right now.

fuck you, dano. i'm tired of playing the fool.

fuck you. i should have walked away a long time ago, but i kept telling myself we'd gotten through stuff before, it was just a blip, we always had to stick together. in short, i was stupid and i didn't have the courage to hurt you by leaving. i stayed because i thought you still wanted me around.

apparently i was wrong.

i feel so used. i never ever tried to hurt you, i never did anything vindictively, i am not the frickin devil. i cared about you and i put so much into our friendship, letting homework go undone and abandoning other people to stick by you.

i didn't want to walk away when you were already hurting. but that's what you've just done...talk about having no consideration for other people's feelings. when did i ever do that? i care too much sometimes about other people's feelings, treading lightly around them. and i fucking hate when i get walked all over for it.

cus that's what i feel like's happened. i feel so fucking used and thrown away. simply because i decided to be myself....i still have morals, i have limits, and i bloody well follow them. just because there are about six million side of me you never saw...

it's better this way. i fucking hate you right now. not the momory of you...i like that. a lot. that's what i miss, not the jealous bitch you've become. what the hell do i have that you want? it's not like i try, at all. maybe that's why you hate me, because i can get things without trying. but do you really think i'm going to work if i don't have to? fuck no...and you wouldn't either.

and i'm not going to stop hanging out with anyone but you over this, so we may, unfortunately be spending time together. i refuse to let you take my friends with you.

so fuck off.

if you feel like making my day, send me an email.

Which of Henry VIII's wives are you?

this quiz was made by the scare-umptious ghouls at Spookbot

okay...so i cheated rather a lot...to the point of looking at the source code...your point?

it's gotta be the same kate...how many kate hellebergs can they have at the air force academy in colorado? i never knew she fenced...but it makes a lot of sense.

so. from the fencing center of san jose website:

These Athletes include:

Katharine Decker - St. Johns University - Grant
Greg Donnaker - Stanford University
RaeLyn Jacobson - UC San Diego
Nathan Elchert - Yale
Harrison Osaki - Stanford University
Kate Helleberg - Air Force Academy. so if kate used to fence with raelyn...and caddie used to fence with raelyn...does cads know kate? is this the same place she fenced? the number of random connections between people i know is starting to get silly.

i have an interesting pattern of remembering past crushes, assuming they're forgotten all about me, then randomly running back into them years later and discovering they haven't. i didn't think i was a very memorable kid...at all...but i remember all these little details about people and assume they don't do the same thing. i don't know if they do. but i feel like i fall under the radar...until i realize i don't when someone remembers me.

will stop babbling now. really.

why does it scare me that i just heard four incredibly skinny sixth graders arguing about who need to go on a diet more? ah, i know...because it's fucking scary.

my mind and body are completely wacked out...today is the first day i've really eaten since sunday and it isn't liking it at all. i'm fucking sick of being sick. i've been sick since the weekend before spring break and it keeps changing into something new. my body is in self destruct mode even as my mind is getting its act back together. the scratch on my had is bothering me right now...in that kind of well it did help but i'm not going to do it again sort of a way...i'm not going to kill myself, you don't kill yourself to prove you're real. and it's not bad right now. i'm learning to handle it. no worries. i looked in the mirror last night and realized that somehow at some point i had gotten really skinny. when did that happen? do i just not look in mirrors much? it was weird...i didn't recognize the girl staring back at me. i look so fragile sometimes. and i know i'm not, but it disturbed me to realize that the back-of-my-mind fears of being fat were so completely unfounded...is my self image that warped?

one of the girls from my dance studio is getting married in august, and the first chick i had a crush on is coming back from the air force to be her maid of honor. i'm so nervous...i haven't seen kate in four years now. she left two weeks after our dance recital, 1999. i didn't think she'd ever remember me, the random eleven-year-old who always stood right in front of her at the barre. she'd give me little visual cues on my dancing...i think i improved more that year than any other year. and i remember her so often now. the other day i was talking to juliet (the chick who's getting married) about how i missed kate...and she said they'd had a conversation about me the other day...i didn't think kate would remember i existed. but apparently she does. and now i'm nervous about seeing her again, wondering how much of my memory of her is true to reality and wondering how much she's changed. i know i'm not the same girl who idolized her four years ago...chances are she's not the same either. but i'm so fucking excited to see her again. gaaaaaaah.

i've been thinking about my sexual orientation (blah that word's so silly...) lately, and have developed a theory. it's a matter of commitment...and how for you'd go. for example i kiss guys and fool around with them but i wouldn't sleep with them...or marry one...so really the only reason i like guys is to kiss them and such, so really i don't like guys. get the logic? and the last time i thought a guy was truly hot...er...um...let me get back to you on that.

by the same sort of logic (do i need to go through it?) i like girls. a lot.

so generally i'm kinda a lesbian.

unfortunately there are no girls around to do anything with...i'm so horny right now...but no there are no hot girls i can fool around with and/or go out with or anything...at least not that i know of...i'm just a little bit frustrated.

an escape from productive work:

toothpicks Tuesday, May
07, 2003 13:42
iris
somebody please tell you through
my next year much my hair
again. if you even about five years ago.of
the corner of thought.i knew...all i used
a life is picking
up the
princess, and absolutely
wonderful, the fluids unfortunately not fun,
lots you know so tempted to be easy,
and attention? it feels so why
they thought.

toothpicks and
i doubt it.
into shape. # DisplayCounts 94074210 ; 14:iris
mitchell sent home a bit...
too thin for the other ten million things because
i look back into a
fucking spanish
final paper i liked the emerson sidewalk. #
DisplayCounts 94073652 ; 12:38 iris the bright
side, one only so long...

toothpicks Tuesday, May 13, 13 42 iris
i have no you carey!jessie,
toni, maddy, and things due tomorrow6. i+
had a somewhat interesting homework except
that it so
keen on plato, thirteen
days i was
nighttime in the movie of day? i
have to bitch at in all the same
line and therefore
whether i finish
it last year, will work, with
that was in palo alto, and sick.honey i
wrote a safety pin. cutting
free for...about what i want
them,
me: off like i had a blue
streak in the first
felt exactly the last
year, so why do
you
if you wanted that
blind? and i love to turn
out to whip your rules or an email addiction
and i would have some
days overdue.

i am so very very amused.

to a different you:

do you know how much you've been pissing me off lately? i feel like our entire friendship is based around you. i talk you through your problems, listen to you bitch at me, even about me. is it wrong to need a little love and attention? all i want is to be able to tell you my problems...to have you listen...but no, you don't want to hear about them. it's all give and no take. every time you say something to me...it's you-centric. always. was our friendship always this one-sided? am i that blind? and do you even bloody care? you say you do...but when's the last time you actually asked a question about something in my life and stayed to hear the answer before rattling off into one of your problems again. and every time i start to go crazy, you have to be more fucked up than me. it's not a fucking competition goddammit! i don't care who's more fucked up. i'll gladly give you the prize. but it feels sometimes like you want to be fucked up for the attention it gets you. get the fuck off your high horse and stop preaching to me. i don't want to hear it anymore, until we're equals. stop pretending you know what to do about everything in my life. every word i say to you dissapears into a vacuum and i never see it again, never get a response. do you even hear me?

i care about you but it can only go so far. i can't keep sacrificing myself for you forever. maybe that's why i annoy you so much lately, because i no longer want to be the inanimate Friend. i no longer live by your rules or pay attention to what you think i should and shouldn't do.

if you can't accept me as i am and if you don't care, then just fucking tell me and i'll fuck off...like hell you miss me. you miss having someone to bitch at about your problems.

fuck you. i've wanted to say that for a while but i haven't because i didn't want to hurt you...now i think it's time to be honest though.

you're not so perfect and you're a hypocrite. don't bitch other people out for doing exactly what you do.

stop making me feel like i don't matter.

i think i'm addicted to this thing...i've been psting tiny posts all day for about a week now, any time i have anything to say. even if it's boring or unimportant. ergh. must stop.

must also attempt to get first decent amount of sleep in about 37 hours.

i think my muscles are starting to spaz out from general lack of sleep and calories and fluids...unfortunately i'm not tired, barely keeping my dinner down, and...i guess i can work on fixing the fluids thing.

or i could, if there were any clean water.

it amuses me that i have admin privileges on two other people's blogs and a third person's password. i could wreak some serious havoc if i wanted to.

however i'm not going to because i know if i do that nobody would trust be to be their html guru anymore, which i'm rather enjoying. so, no havoc.

the world is swimming in front of my eyes. i think it's a combination of depersonalization, lack of sleep, alck of food, and dehydration. lovely combination, no?

i don't want love to destroy me like it destroyed my family.

and two posts ago...that was meant to be nine a.m.

although i just took a nap of sorts. not sure at all how long, but less than an hour. weeeeee.

itunes is sending me crazy messages. silly telepathic computer program playing someone's songs.

typing monkeys don't write shakespeare.

my eyes have no reason to be open. i haven't slept since nine o'clock yesterday. the caffeine should have all worn off by now. i took an antihistamine/decongestant that's supposed to make me sleepy...so why do i feel like the frickin energizer bunny?

blah. i feel silly and paranoid. pay no attention to the girl behind the blogger window.

***subject change***

maddy: go to 'team' in the blog edit screed and add me as a team member and make me an admin...my email is ias@got.net. you can take me off when i get the comments fixed. i'd send you an email but i don't know your email address.

please if you read the story comment on it. i want to know what you guys think.

i think i used to much of reality and then twisted it too far.

the story's not intended to be reality. i have a bad habit of basing characters in stories on people i know, bu the characters aren't those people. the later it gets the more twisted the story gets. i finished that story at four am...and it got pretty damn twisted. that girl isn't you. that girl isn't me. i used the name becausei couldn't think of another one. that's not our ending, dammit. the last line isn't supposed to be a threat or anything, it's just the last line of a fucking story.

i can't write entirely made-up stories. they come out sounding weird and stilted because i can't get inside the minds of the characters. and i used that bit off my blog not because we're the people in the story but because i liked the way it turned out. and maybe i'm a dumbass and maybe i'm blind but when i write the story takes on a life of its own. i didn't intend for it to turn out the way it did.

i also can't write happy stories, especially late at night. i started writing another ending and then realized it wasn't working. i used a part of us...and turned it into something completely different.

please don't hate me.

i finished my story. eight and a half pages long...easily the longest i've ever written. probably also the most linear. read. comment. please.

my nose itches. i'm wondering if this is my usually latent allergies rearing their ugly heads. i can't breathe, i'm sneezing every five seconds...i feel like a fish out of water. erblegh. what's taking me down so hard? i want to ride out and slaughter whatever fiendish plant is making me react this way. eck eck eck.

i think i'm incapable of writing anything that isn't semi-autobiographical.

i wonder who keeps searching for stephanie rogan on google. it's happened about five times now, and every time an entirely different ip.

of course tonight, when i want somebody to read my stuff, would happen to be the night when nobody's on. grar.

i'm supposed to be waking up in four and a half hours. how do i manage to work so much and get so little done?

i really like how my story's going so far. it's about three pages long and i know there's so much more i'm going to write. of course tomorrow i'll probably be like the girl in the story and realize i've written seven pages of crap. however until then...i'm having fun. lots of it. writing in the second person turns out to agree with me.

will post on writing blog as soon as i finish it and i really seriously want your comments. good, bad, any at all.

dunno if i'll be in school tomorrow. i think my nose is taking a few lessons from niagara falls and my sinuses think they're living in a vacuum. ergh. i sound like a monkey and feel even worse.

i'm beginning to think i've been stretched too thin for a little bit too long now.

maddy-
email me. the links on the side. one techie at your service to whip your blog's ass into shape.

the house just shook...i don't know what it was, it didn't sound like the usual plane going over.

150 words to finish telling the story of my grandpa. i'm screwed. editing time...except maybve not. i tihnk i'll just kinda fly through it and be finished woth the goddamn thing. any spanish speakers wanna proofread it?

my mind is in bad places for writing...except for writing my story maybe. maybe that'll be my next project, that or my personal essay.

i don't know if rino wants to go inside my mind right now...it's being a scary jungle.

::sigh:: my head is starting to hurt. i think it's all the pressure in my sinuses. it makes me want to take a pill to make it better and go lie down in bed but i'm not tired i'm not i want to write the story maybe i should have gotten up and written it last night when i had the idea, when it was fresh in my head. will it be as good in the light of day? will i be able to capture it in words on a blank sheet of paper? i wish i knew...all i can do is try.

so many things due first thing tomorrow morning, when all i want to do is write my fucked up story about a girl who is me...but isn't. because she's a woman. and she isn't me, her story doesn't end the way i want mine to. but there is a lot of me in her, and a lot of her in me.

i've been thinking a lot lately of warm march nights in downtown palo alto and a kiss, the first. it tasted like mint gum, the mint gum from her bag that we'd both been chewing. 'i'll taste like cigarettes' she'd warned me months before. 'i don't care' i said. she didn't though...not that time. it was all mint and her. and around us was nighttime in palo alto, the bustle of people walking by, maybe pausing to look at the two girls on the bench in front of the pizza place. but to me...it didn't feel like they were there. i didn't care what they saw and what they thought. i just wanted that moment to last, so beautiful and perfect and right. maybe it's then that i first felt it. maybe it was holding hands in the car on the way back that night. but that's the night it started.

i miss that feeling. i miss that kiss.

is it possible to write...let me think...a minimum of eighteen pages on six different topics in under nine hours? i'm a little skeptical...

there's also that thing called sleep. i think it's going to have to take a short vacation. i'm not giving up this time. end of story. i will come in with at least all the overdue work and the story done tomorrow, the not-yet-overdue essay might have to wait a day.

i keep forgetting how much of a pain it is to actually get out of a hole, not just pretend to be trying while still sleeping at night.

i figure at some point schoolwork has to come over sanity in order to get done, so why not now when my sanity is not present anyway?

i think i'm going to stay up all night to get myself out of this particular academic hole. that won't help my mental or physical health much, except to keep me out of trouble with my teachers. i can't stand it when they're either worried about me or mad at me because i see altogether too much of them. why can't they fuck off and leave me alone?

to do:
1. spanish final paper, three days overdue.
2. spanish in class essay rewrite, five days overdue
3. personal essay. don't remember when it was due.
4. their eyes were watching god essay, due tomorrow
5. short story for creative writing app, due tomorrow
6. i+s essay on plato, thirteen days overdue.

erk. that's entirely ignoring all potential homework except large writing assignments. i also have back chem and math, and have yet to [re]read about half of their eyes were watching god.

and i'm sick.

on the bright side, mental instability has given me inspiration for my seven page story, and piles of somewhat interesting homework are keeping me from dwelling too much on said mental situation. all in all pretty good, except for the fact that i'm not going to be sleeping or doing anything except write for a very long time.

i wonder how long it'll take for my fingers to get sore.

at one am i was lying awake in bed, writing a somewhat disturbing story in my head, thinking about whether it could end up being seven pages long. i decided it could. then i fell asleep and dreamed...about what i'm not sure, but they were the strangest, most vivid dreams i'd had in a long time.

it's nice to be dreaming again.

my mind is picking up the pieces of my life and slowly putting them back together again. it's not going to be easy, and probably not fun, but i'm not scared anymore, i'm almost excited to see what happens.

and i'm sorry if i freaked anyone out...but thank you guys so much for worrying and caring about me...i don't know what i would have done if i hadn't been able to talk to all of you. and you're absolutely wonderful, the only reason i'm pulling through as well as i am, which is pretty damn well considering.

and i have my muse back. she'd been gone for so long...i was worried. but late last night and today i've had impulses to create, to write. it's coming easily.

thank whatever god feels like being thanked...

being a rock really isn't so bad. you learn some really interesting things.

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	High
Schizoid:	High
Schizotypal:	Very High
Antisocial:	Low
Borderline:	Moderate
Histrionic:	High
Narcissistic:	High
Avoidant:	High
Dependent:	Moderate
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Moderate
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --

ther personality test thinks i am a very fucked up child.