Short recap of what's gone on since friday's entry: Friday Night Went to Aziza's Arab club's poetry/music night. It was okay, a bit unorganized, but it had a good turnout, and all the bellydancing scarves Aziza had brought made it worth it all, that and the hummus. I was a bit tired though, I went to bed too late thursday night, so I only got 3 hours of sleep. Little sleep make Jennie a numb sheep. When it dissolved itself, some of us went to a midnight showing of Boogie Nights. (Be sure to visit the site, it contains hilarious indecent button icons!8) I *loved* that movie. The actors' all clicked, Mark Wahlberg was superb, Julianne Moore created a wonderful portrait of a mother in the porn industry, struggeling to see her son. Heartbreaking. Just to hear the GASPs of disbelief in the theater when Dirk Diggler drags out his 13 inch penis (no, it wasn't real. )in the end made it a favourite movie of mine. Eek. Sorry if I spoilt the surprise, but, um, it's not like I just told who killed this or that person, or something crucial than that. Superb movie. Do go see it :) Afterwards, me and Jesica were driven home by some friend...we get home at 3 am, and the door is locked, from the inside. I manage to get to Aziza's window and knock repeatedly, waking her (and a poor neighbour :() up in the process to open the door. Shortly after that, we left for Harris Teeter to shop. Can you believe that? I did my every other weekly shopping round on a saturday morning, 3.30 am. Me and Jesica were getting stuff to make margaritas, but were informed they didn't sell alcohol after 2 am. Poo. Went to bed at 7 am, after dragging my mattress into Jesica's room, for strange reasons that don't belong in this diary.

Saturday Okay. This is a picture where I try to illustrate how my so called goth make up look. Sucky, I know. Not to mention I look hideous with black eyebrows. But who's looking? Well, apart from the people we passed/sat next to when we went out in the evening to eat and play games...I wore a dark red bellydancing scarf with sequins wrapped around my head too. I looked, uh, "interesting".

Sunday What do you think? I watched The Simpsons, King of The Hill, The X-files, and spodded. A lot. In fact, almost all night. I didn't go to bed until 4.30 am. I went up at 6.00 am monday morning. Nothing like a good nig..I mean hour and a half of sleep when you're exhausted. I managed to cramp out the first paragraph of my essay though. heh.

Monday I was so tired I screwed up my math quizes and my PSD midterm. That's okay. Got my first essay back. B-, and good comments. Astonishing. Got my Social blah blah midterm back, that I never studied for. B :) I'm sure something fascinating happened this day, but my mushy brain won't allow me to recall it. I suck.

Tuesday Watched all the talk shows. Saw 'Cat people' with Nastassja Kinski on tv. She's sooo beauuuutiful. The movie was sooooo odd. I liked it. I think :) When I was a kid, this one videostore had this movie, and I used to gaze at the cover and dream of renting it hundreds of times, but I never dared to, because it looked like it might be a soft porn movie, and I didn't want to get embarrassed at the cashier register. A movie with the slogan "An Erotic Fantasy For The Animal In Us All." feels very embarrassing when you're 12. Instead I rented "Tremors" numerous times. I guess what attracted me to the movie was the cover image of Nastassja Kinski. I think it was a closeup on her head, while she was in a bathtub. Or maybe it was raining - I can't remember. Anyways, she looked straight into the camera, the whole image had a yellow dark red tone to it, her wet hair slicked back, and her mouth slightly opened. It was that image, and the title, Cat people, that left it in a drawer far back in my mind, waiting to be remembered so I could go rent it now when I'm old enough to not care. It was a tiny bit disappointing, but hey, it was made 1982 :) It fewatured a lot of scenes with a raging black leopard, though. Yum. I always felt very connected with feline animals. Great. Now I sound just about as original as everybody who simply "loves wolves." (Hmm, I love'em too. I like howling. Sometimes even in public ;). Well, I just connect better with cats. I know their claws or teeth won't kill me, even if they try and scratch me to death. A dog is too unstable to me, and dammit, that crouch sniffing gets to me 8(.

Today Overslept. Jesica managed to wake me up 5 minutes after my bus left. I caught a later bus, got to school, and immediately started to feel like shite. I didn't go to any of my classes, so now I'm sitting here, online, expecting to be thrown out of school. The school cap I've worn all day has shaped my hair, so I no longer can take my cap off, because my hair'd look stupid.

Argh. I'm so BORING. Blah blah. Sometimes when I write here, I'll read the entry again, later, and think "Hey, that was a bit interesting", at least, but posts like this, today, just makes me feel as interesting and descriptive as a...as a...heh, I don't even have the imagination to put a word to end that statement. I suck. :)

I guess the reason for the above paragraph was the fact that I got several mails last week from various strangers, telling me they liked this/that on my site, or simply me. That feels so odd. I mean, trust me, it's wonderfully appreciated, and I always send back nice mails, and then run around the apartement telling everybody that "I GOT FAN MAIL! I GOT FAN MAIL!". I'm just not used to being the one on the receiving end. I'm simply too used to being THE FAN. I suppose that is why I will never be a famous person. (Uh, that, and the fact that I don't have a particular talent ;) I would be too busy getting excited about this and that. "Oh my god, there is a tiny blurb about me in that paper! EEK! They're playing my video! Oh my gawd, Marky Mark said hello to me!". I would actualy enjoy being a 'star' for some reasons, though. First of all, it'd be nice with people appreciative of me. On the other hand, the critizism, bound to be thrown at me in big ugly lumps, would depress me. but the main reason, I think, would be to get to do videos and magazine covers and publicity shoots. I mean, really. It would be like playing dressup, just fancier :) Hangon, I'm inspired now. Lemme see if I can create some image with me. Heh.

Time to catch the bus, so I can meet Jesica. It's Hare Krishna night :) (They BETTER not be serving that crappy grapefruit juice again, though 8() Am I using too many emoticons? I guess. Haha. =>8)

Friday, March 6 I think there's only one thing for me to say today.

SPRRRRINGBREEEEAK!!!!!!

Thank you. 8)

I don't think any posts will be made here until monday march 15. Or something like that. Knowing me though, I might find a way of hasseling someone (i.e. Jessica ;) into putting one or two long entries up. Yey.

Have a good week. Without...me. Just imagine me, (try checking Cirrus Nebula for me though, I'm aLanis) either spodding naked, or watching talkshows. YEYEYEY!8)

Friday, March 13 (again!) Stop All the Clocks Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought my love would last for ever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one. Pick up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods For nothing now can ever come to any good. W. H. Auden

I couldn't resist putting that poem up. It is breathtaking, is it not? I watched Four Weddings and A Funeral Monday night, you see, and the part when this is read ...gah, it still makes me weepy. This is why I will never ever be a writer. If I can't make someone feel the way I feel reading those words with something I writ e, then...there's no point. I can't, so I won't even try :) Sometimes I will read words written by somebody, not necessarily by a writer, it can be by anybody, and my cells will gasp for air. It can be a simple sentence, it can be only two words placed next to each other in *just* the right way, and my heart will go off racing because it GETS it. Am I making sense? Who knows. Hrmph. Never mind me. It was Jessica's Diary that sent me off again. Some days ago she wrote a bit about the way music makes her feel. The way she spoke of it, the words she used...everything made me feel giddy, because I *understood* so well what she wanted to say. It's when I read things like that, that it dawns on me how incredibly fortunate I am to have Jessica as my friend. *sigh* I know, cheesy, but that's how it is :) (The fact that I talk so much about her in this diary, with people irl, with my family, with people at SCHOOL, should tell you there's something special going on. *giggle* )

So what have I been up to this spring break? Hmm. Talked with Jessica online :) We've gotten into a strange rhythm when we spend the entire nights talking, and go to sleep at times like 5 am or 7 am...I better correct that sleeping pattern before school starts again Monday... I find myself on #analove a lot, the irc channel for Ana Voog. Now this is very strange, I admit, since I'm hardly an irc person. Nor am I very good at making good conversations when I don't know the people in question. Yet I've managed to log on quite frequently there, and have become some sort of silent regular. Usually people greet me rather cordially, and sometimes they get silly enough to create things like #lanalove (my irc nick is lana), which leaves me blushing. I don't know. I crave attention, yet when I get it, I want to hide under a large, soft blanket and breathe for days. I just feel weird when good things are said about/to me. There's this girl there, Aurora...she actually found this page at random, and decided she likes it/me..then it turns out she's at #analove. I just feel so *strange* having someone express that they think I'm 'cool' or whatever. I wanna scream 'EEK STOP IT, here's a list of people that DESERVE IT", but I s'pose that's silly. I should just lick it up and beam. I can't really explain why Ana and what she does has stuck to my brain so much. I just like it. People ask me on CN "Who's that Ana you spoke about months ago? Where's her site? What is it that she does?"...I don't know why I've become some sort of Ana spokesperson there, it's kind of silly really, because I don't know her more than most anybody else, but I guess since I was the one that first told about her there, people assume we're "friends". Heh. Yesterday I got to talk to her for the first time (apart from the occasional comment, that is), and that was a pretty funny experience. It's related to the next paragraph though, so off you go to read what's really new about me...

I just dyed my hair Manic Panic plum purple. Like *PURPLE*. There is not a thing natural about this shade of colour, trust me. And I'm loving it :) However, I did manage to put myself in a mess. The new colour inspired me to straighten my hair up a bit. I haven't really decided if I'm going to grow my hair back out again, or what. Well...I started out with a slight trimming of the neck hair...my hair's finally down to an inch away from my chin...and then I just got scissors happy. I ended up CHOPPING IT OFF again. It's short. It's shorter than when I first cut my long hair off back in September. It is TOO short. It's like an inch, maybe two inches long. I don't need to comb my hair, let's put it like that. The first night I almost cried, it looked so hideous. I made a vow to wear my cap until it had grown out again, like in mid June. I spent the entire evening WHINING about it to my poor net.friends. I can be so whiny. Then I woke up in the morning, and..it looks okay :) It's not GORGEOUS, and I'm really a bit too fat to sport a nice short, short haircut, but I was able to frizzy it up and make it spiky, so it does look a bit punky, as opposed to a haircut on a butch lesbian prison inmate, which was my first reaction. ( Not that there's anything wrong with butch lesbian prison inmates...:) It felt so wonderful to finally get to dye my hair again. It's been over THREE MONTHS since last time (the night when I left for America. Oh shit, I've been in America for three months!!), and my craving for change was crying inside me for some dye. I feel renewed, like a mannequin in a whole new position. I even feel a bit pretty. yey. We ended up going shopping at Harris Teeter's last night, and my gawd what an awful experience. Indeed I was sporting my new hair, and yes, I was wearing a blue lipstick with thick black outlines, and yes, I was wearing shorts, so my tattoo was visible, as was the red ink ankh (say that 50 times fast ;) I drew on my leg, but DAMN it felt awkward. Blah. The funniest part was in the vegetables department, when one little girl made huge, big eyes, and yelled to her mom: "MOM, that girl has PURPLE HAIR!!", but the security guard that kept hoovering close where I was was kind'a nasty. What was he worried I'd do, steal some canned peas?? It felt so good later when I logged onto #analove. I mentioned what had happened, and soon me and the women there had a long fun convo going on about where to buy blue lipstick, and what hairdye's rocked, etc (If yer looking for blue, cheap lipstick - Wet and Wild. Expensive, but good quality blue lipstick - Urban decay). After almost an hour, Ana made her presence known, and said she'd been reading what we had said, and had a blast. She was happy that the channel finally had a large enough female population to have a convo like this. Somehow we managed to get away from the original subject though, and I think our final conclusion was ribbed condoms - ribbed for OUR PLEASURE? Fuck off. She did see my page though. And I am going to rent "Harold and Maude". Yey :) I think most people don't seem to get the dress-up-freaky-makeup-thing. I can't explain it. It feels GOOD, and it's damn fun to experiment with makeup, and hair, and clothes, and appearances. I've always had a mind of my own, but I've also had to struggle with a lot of garbage since I've always been over weight, and never was much of a pretty girl. That, and being in a family where physical and mental abuse has occured occasionally, has scarred me. Of COURSE it has. It took me 19 years to get up the nerve to walk out the door with makeup on, without feeling like a mob of people were going to mock me openly, and call me ugly. That day was the first day of this diary. I know, maybe it was a strange step to take, to one day just put on a ton of freaky makeup and walk outdoors, instead of a subtle lipstick, but I believe that sometimes we need to confront our demons and trolls in a big way, to make a change in some form. There are lots and lots of moments everyday where I feel incredibly insecure. Yesterday I was hyperventilating several times at Harris Teeters, questioning why the hell I put myself through the stares, and sometimes the comments. I don't know. I just know that it gives me a rush when I make it through. It makes me feel wonderful when I dare to walk down the street singing out loud coz I feel like it, regardless of who happens to be out listening that day. I love the big looks I get from little girls, the smiles from babies, everything. I'd like to think that I'm giving them options, simply by looking a certain way. If I had not grown up in a small town, secretly admiring and envying the punky kids in school, or whatever other strange click was standing out at that time, then I would never have learned to feel secure with my urges of expressing myself, in whatever tiny or big way it may be. If you don't see the options, if you never see what you can do, then how are you going to have a chance to find your little spot on the rug of life? It would be wild if some little girl that have gotten twinkly eyes when she's seen my magic scarf with the sequins tucked the thought back in her head that maybe it's okay to play dress up outside of the room. I don't know. I sound like I think I'm molding future presidents and doctors, don't I? Hehe, well inspiring kids to dare to be different is a cool thing too, dammit :)

Is it just me, or is this entry huuuuuge? Well, my final babble will be about tonight. Aziza's Arabic professor is here, and she has cooked all this Egyptian fooood. Right now I'm eating a wonderful dish, okra, cardamom, veggy stuff, and rice. WONDERFUL. Delicious. DE-LICIOUS, I tell you :) God I love food. I love falafel, with pita bread and tahina, or pita bread with just humus, I love fried veggies with rice, I love chocolate, I love corn, I love spices, I love the colours, the smells, the taste...food. *sigh* :) The smells from the kitchen tonight smell just like kitchen's I can remember from my childhood, when my bosnian father made food, or some friends of the family made dinner...I just love Mediterranean cooking :) OH, I also had the freakiest dream. All I can remember is that Noah Wyle was in it, we were all lined up, and waiting to hear things about our life from travelling gypsys. When it was Noah's turn (he was the one ahead of me), the old gypsy man GASPED, and started to ramble...the little gypsy boy quickly translated it into Noah Wyle being the long lost gypsy king, now come back to take his throne among his wandering people. WHY CAN'T I HAVE NORMAL DREAMS? Why do I dream of Mulder and Scully ripping human babies apart, or Peter O'Toole chasing me around hotels, while trying to kill me with a piece of toast, or Marilyn Manson (he looks SO much like Paul from the Wonder years! Ee! Ee! Ee!) being madly in love with me *shudddddder*??? BiBi! (and thank you Jessica, for putting this up for me :)

Monday, March 16 Oh boy. I got an e-mail earlier today, asking for an interview about this diary. I really don't know what to think. I mean, I suspected it was a prank, but by a coinscidence I happen to have a friend online who works at the paper in question, and she verified it in a sneaky way for me. *gulp* The Philadelphia Inquirer. *double gulp* I tried to get him to do an e-mail interview with me, but..well, I see his point. He's gunna call after 10 tomorrow morning. Hahha, I hope I don't screw it up. I tend to get tense when on the phone with strangers. I Think. Not that I talk to a lot of strangers on the phone. It's just a hunch. (Great. This will be the THIRD article I'm in, talking about me being online. [although since the main purpose of this article seems to be about diaries online in general, I doubt there'll be more than one of those blurbs about me. I can see it now - "Why I write? I was bored one day, and it seemed like fun", says Jennie Alibasic. *shudder*] The other two was in a local paper at home. Heh. THREE months in America, and I manage to (maybe) get my name in a news paper. The world is a twisted, twisted place :)

Jesica finaly came home last night, and instantly, things feel better. I've really missed her. It seems like she's been away a MONTH, dammit. :)

This is a lame entry, I know, especialy for someone who's supposed to talk about it with a real person, but hey, I was excited. :) I'll leave you with two links: www.bigweenie.com www.ilovecheese.com

Wednesday, March 18 So I was interviewed on the phone yesterday. It lasted about 20 minutes, and I was soooo nervous, but I'm still alive, so..yey. I don't know if I will be mentioned in the article, or not, but hopefully I will be. My ego would blush for hours if it happens :) It felt odd though, and I was so scared I wouldn't make any sense at all. Or...that the journalist would realize that I'm just a tiny, insignificant diary writer, in the giant pond of big diaries with hundreds and thousands of readers out there. Well, who knows, maybe there are hundreds of you out there reading, there's no way I'd know, I guess. Doubt it though :) It would be scary to be read by that many, and frankly, I don't feel that interesting a lot of the time. Those of you who are reading this diary though...thanks for sticking to it. It's really appreciated, in some strange way by me. *blush* My homepage have had about 50 hits since monday though. I always get weird when I notice things like that, I'm used to a gentle flow of maybe 30 hits a week (well, lynx hits doesn't show on the counter, and I know some people just have my diary bookmarked, so those visits wouldn't show), and so when I get an unusual, inexplicable number of hits in just a day or so, I always wonder why. Did someone find my page, like it, and make their friends look at it too? Did someone find my page, and click 50 times for fun? Stalker that can't help returning every other minute? I don't know. Maybe I don't want to know either. :)

No one has said what the truth should be I know undecided that I feel this way If you feel desire Would you betray yourself But you can't deny how I feel And you can't decide for me No one should fear what they cannot see I know once to blame it's just hypocrisy It's written in your eyes, And how I despise myself But you can't deny how I feel And you can't decide for me And it's your heart That's so wrong Mistaken, you'll never know You're feathered secret say But you can't deny how I feel And you can't decide for me And you can't deny how I feel Oh why should you decide for me Portishead, Elysium (Portishead)

I spent all morning walking, or waiting, in the rain. I snatched Aziza's huge headphones, trapped my ears inside them, and listened to Tricky and Portishead. I even wept a bit, but no one could tell as it was raining.

Shit. I don't mean to sound this droopy :) I just wasn't feeling well yesterday, I spent the day sleeping on and off on the livingroom floor (it has a nice carpet), wrapped up in my bedspread, with every talkshow we can get flickering on the television screen. I was interrupted 6-7 times by the same person calling for Aziza. I mean, it's okay, it's not their fault I was sleepy and gnarly, it just started to get on my nerves. Later he came back with Jesica and Aziza to the apartement. I don't know, he makes me feel uncomfortable, because this guy is very innocent, huggy, flirty in some clumpsy way. Thusly, he kept attacking everybody with hugs and trying to lift them up and spin them around and other things like that. I don't care what he does with my roomies, he's their friend, but when he started to invade my space by trying to tickle me (I HATE hate hate it because my skin is so sensitive, it's not at all funny :(). What can I say...I have a problem with people I don't know, and don't really want to get to know all that much, who treat me too friendly too soon. I've had too many bad experiences growing up with people overstepping my bounderies and limits, I've had flashers, I've had physical sexual approaches, I've had too much CRAP to be able to handle overwhelming puppy behaviour. I want people to realize than when my tone of voice gets *sharp*, I mean NO. If I say 'Don't tickle me, I really -really- don't like it', I expect that to be respected. I'm sorry if I sometimes come off as a stuck up cold bitch. I don't mean to. I have my reasons.

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