C

Watherine

I'm a girl in the world.

A man goes to the doctor. Says he's depressed. He says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. The doctor says "The treatment is simple. The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him, that should pick you up." The man bursts into tears. He says "But doctor...I am Pagliacci."
-Alan Moore, Watchmen

Look at my journal

Some of my Likes...

Some of my favorite Books and Authors: catcher in the rye anne rice piers anthony michael crichton one day in the life of ivan denisovich jane eyre wuthering heights albert camus the stranger something wicked this way comes fahrenheit 451 ray bradbury generation x why the caged bird sings the color purple the joy luck club the never ending story silence of the lambs dandylion wine 2001: a space oddyssey journey to the center of the earth i,robot the haunting and lots more.

As for television, I don't even have one. I don't watch it. I was borrowing one a while ago, but it usually wasn't plugged in. If i am watching television, it is probably to watch star trek or some geeky thing like that.

Movies and Films that i enjoy very much are american beauty, magnolia, the crow, the blues brothers, the matrix, fried green tomatoes, dark city, adventures in babysitting, searching for bobby fisher, the rocky horror picture show, life is beautiful, star wars, shine, lord of the rings, the cane toad documentary, chasing amy, death to smoochy, spiderman, and star wars episode 2.

Where music is concerned, i enjoy the cure, nin, red delicious, queen, rush, as well as selected broadway music, classical music, and random strange stuff. I really love my hackers cd, my brian setzer cd, and my newsies cd.

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I like my cat too.
I've had her since I was in kindergarten. She's about 16 years old now.

friends = good

the dead

Being Scary: I get some sort of weird kick out of it. maybe it's a power thing, or something. maybe i was supposed to become a great villain but got switched at birth? i'm not sure. I think that if i were describing my personality to anyone, and left out a slight scariness factor, i would be not doing the description a service.

Oh the endless joys of photo editing! my hair's never been pink.

I enjoy taking pictures of myself and playing around with them using a photo editor or art program. It is magical how much things can be distortred or changed, and still look like what they are. Just this sort of thing has given me hours upon hours of amusement.

Now let me take you to the beginning...
When i was a little girl.

The world was very big and scary.

And it has changed...
how?

I lived in the farm house attached to this barn for the first 12? years of my life. There were spiders bigger than my hand in the cellar, and mice in the walls. I could feel the wind blow through the walls, but it was a wondeful place to live.

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treefrogg_98@hotmail.com

Hey, here's a story i wrote.

It's raining outside and some dumb bird flew into a closed window. My wife is all upset and insists on going outside to see if it is still alive. I tell her that I probably just bounced off and flew away, and also mention that it is raining, and that she could go check later when the weather is better. A stress filled silence ensues as she opens the closet and puts on her long brown coat. She grabs the umbrella we have hanging over the cellar stairs and trudges out the front door, her head held high, advertising a ferocious scowl. The woman's always displeased with me. She even gets pissed at the way iI fold my fucking underwear. I continue eating my slices of burnt toast and turn on the television.

The bird lay in a puddle out on the lawn. My wife is on her knees in the closet looking for an empty shoe box. I suggest we have a funeral, I think maybe she'll laugh, but she just continues to ignore me in silence. I think about humming the death march but think better of it. After about five more minutes, I do it anyway. It is so childish the way she is ignoring me, damn childish. I just have to get out of the room, I just have to get away from her.

I can see her digging a hole in the yard with a shovel, sitting on the bed with my elbows on my knees, my chin in my hands, staring at her. The rain on the window makes her image look fuzzy, like a watercolor painting. She's making a mess of the lawn and getting her clothes all muddy. She doesn't even care about the bird, she just cares that she's out there to spite me, and to convince me that I'm a bad person for not going out into the rain to take care of a dead bird. Sometimes I hate her.

After my wife comes inside, she does not seek me out. I hear her use the vaccum cleaner, and I hear he rwash teh dishes. She opens the refrigerator door, and I think she is clearing out all of the old and expired food. I hear her scrubbing and spraying in the bathroom. She'll come find me when she's all done and call me a lazy bastard for not helping her clean the house. I smile at the thought of her slipping on a banana peel and falling into the window. It makes me laugh out loud to think that I could find a shoe box big enough to put her in, and bury her in the backyard. After my laugh, I hear her motions cease for a few seconds. She squints her eyes, angry to think that I may be laughing at her. She gets angrier to think that I'm not laughing at her, and that I may be enjoying myself while she is slaving away. I don't even have to see her to know this. I read a magazine for a while, and put all thoughts of my wife out the window.

Sitting on the toilet seat with the portable phone in my hand, my wife lay on the bathroom floor, and the medicine cabinet is wide open, bottles open, their covers scattered around. If I called for an ambulance, would it get here in time to save her? Is she already dead? I think about it for a few minutes. I set the phone down on the toilet seat and go into the kitchen to find something for supper. Then I decide to go out, it being a special occassion and all.
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