Me and Gene have decided to go to Wilmington this upcoming weekend. "Why??" I hear you ask.. well. Hrm. This is really hard to admitt but.. I watch Dawsons Creek (and Felicity. And Party of Five. *deep sigh*) and the show is shot in Wilmington. Also, the actors are said to currently live there. Thus, we're going there on a Dawson hunt, dammit.

And to think I've heard several people express _jeallousy_ that they can't come along. Geez.

Gotta tell you
what I heard
from agent orange

mister suntan
mister happy man
mister I know the girls
on all the world tours

mister agent, yeah
he's my favorite
and they don't understand
he's got palm oil pants

yes, he's down and there
and everywhere
he's getting in too deep
in this underwater city
where she swims and
swims

Tori Amos, Agent Orange

I'm tired of persuing people. I always do it, with my endless crushes and friendships and .. everything. I never really admitted it to myself until now, but it makes me feel so empty, this habit of being the one that clings and clings and clings tighter, hoping for that cling back. It's nobody's fault. It's just something I've always done, always feel.

I know it really only boils down to that pesky sense of loneliness that I seem to have stuck in my cells. I know that. I just.. I don't know. If nobody mentions my name when I'm not around, do I still exist?

Then again, in the midst of all idleness and docility, it was a very, very hard weekend for me too. I didn't think I wanted to discuss it openly or with anybody, but as I sit here, I realize that I'm still shook up about it, and diaries don't talk back, or feel uncomfortable, so.. I'm typing.

I think it all started friday. It was founders day at my university, and to celebrate, all classes were cancelled in order to attend some sort of celebration. Naturally, I stayed home instead. Yey, saved $2.50.

After waking up around 10 I positioned myself in the couch, and started zapping around on the telly. Somehow, talkshows don't suck me in as much as they used to. I think that's good? Around 2 I began to get a bit antsy and bored and all that, so I decided to call home and talk to my mom for a while - it's not often I manage to call home at a decent hour, so it felt exciting. I caught her right after dinner, and we talked for quite a while.

It's strange - ever since I got to America, calling my mom and chit chatting is a huge part of any socializing I do - that and talking to Aziza/Gene. Heh, I even have fun talking with my brother on the phone. Straying.

I had a nice chat with my mother, and found out that my cousin is finaly getting married to her boyfriend, and that they're coming to Miami in a few weeks to do it. I felt a bit poo that I can't get down there and attend, but hey, at least we'll be in the same country. Yum.

After her telling me 300 times to "be careful! Don't talk to strangers! Wear your seatbelt! Always watch your drink if you go out! Buy gloves!", which in an odd way makes me feel good hearing, because she never insisted on those things when I was growing up, I decided to call my granny. Then I decided to call my friends Monia and Anna back home ("Jennie who? You're BACK? You're what! Calling from Ame.. OhMYGhod!"). Then I decided to call my friend Maria back home and gush about the Tori concert and other things. Then my dad called.

And then it was 3.50 PM, and I was on a strange rush. "I do too know people! And they miss me!" Wandered out into the kitchen. Made grilled cheese sandwhiches. Vegitated all evening in the couch while reading a book called "Bondage". Taped PJ on Letterman. Saw "Happy Gilmore" with Aziza and some of her friends. Went to sleep.

Slept miserably.

In the midst of waking up, I was so certain I was back home, I started to make up plans of what to have for breakfast, based on what can usualy be found in the kitchen back in Sweden. "I wonder if mom bought.. oh yeah, mom's at her boyfriends' this weekend. Hmm I wonder if my cat's indoors." It took me a few seconds after I opened my eyes to realize where I was.

Halfway through the day, dozing off in the couch, I decided to read the book I got for $1 at a thrift store the other weekend, "She's Come Undone" by Wally Lamb.

I. Um. I don't really know what happened. I read it all Saturday evening, and couldn't put it down for the night, so I spent 4 hours reading it in my bed, until I realized it was 4.30 am, and my eyes hated me.

Slept miserably.

I had one of those long dreams that just seem to go on and on, changing scenery, not really following a script, more like my dream self living a few months of it's life in one dream. All I can remember for certain is that the moments before I woke up, I was on a ship, standing on the outdoors deck while the dark ocean got wilder and darker. The last scene had the ship going down - not sinking, just lowering itself so that the deck was on a level with the sea, and waves violently crashing up on deck, wetting my shoes, as if I was standing on a shore. I wanted to run inside, but I had instructions not to move until the ship was down to a certain level. I had to stand there and feel the terror as the water washing over the deck was up to my ankle with every wave.

Eyes wide open.

rise and shine

Picked up the book. Kept on reading, but with a strange feeling for every page I turned towards the end. yet without a clue why it bothered me so.

"Dorothy Price struggles through her teenage years and adulthood with memories of a rape, her obesity, and periodical mental insanity."

As I was cleaning up my room (switching with Aziza, eventually) I went through dussins of my CDs, listening to a song or two on each, shifting, another CD, another song, shifting, and then, all of a sudden, it felt like my head was going to burst, and I remembered.

When I was a child (I can't put an age to it. I spent most of my childhood doing the same things every day, every month, every year. Just like now.) I spent every day at the library, reading anything, pretending I was choosing to be alone, so there. It was very peaceful there, and I knew all the librarians by first name - sometimes they would even drive me home if I missed my bus.

Then, for no apparent reason, a boy, 3-4 years older than me started hanging out there, and almost immediately started to harass me. By saying that, I mean that he would pester me wherever I went to sit, call me names, pull my hair.. no. Fuck anybody who says that "Boys will be boys" bullshit and "He likes you, he just doesn't know how to show it!". The boy had it in for me. It was NOT harmless play - it was harrassment and abuse.

He would sit next to me and whisper how disgusting I was. He would steal the book I was reading straight out of my hands and make me chase him (thought I soon stopped) to get it back. He would walk by and slam a book into my head - hard. Several times we got into small, physical fights, because I wouldn't sit down and take it silently - I would tell on him, I would try and ignore him, or punch him back.

I thought about not going to the library for a while, but then I refused to stop going to a place I loved, and so I decided to just hang in there. After all, if I could handle my brother, why shouldn't I be able to handle a boy only a few years older than me?

And then. One. Day. He. Chased me. He chased me into the secluded kids room, closed the door, pulled my hair, slapped me, tackled me onto the floor and tried to pull down my pants. Again and again he forced the words out between his teeth "I'm going to rape you, bitch, I'm going to rape you." He managed to open his pants up while pinning me down onto the soft mattress that covered the Play-With-Pillows area. My mind went white. I kept starring at him, unable to speak because I was busy trying to free my arms enough to fight back more, to twist my legs more, to throw him off, scratch his skin, make him let go. I was so angry at the situation, angry because I couldn't get him off me, so scared of what he was trying to do, so numb from the punches, pulling, kicking and scratching. I bit his arm until he screamed.

The elastic band in my underwear ripped on the left side, while I tried to simultaneously kick and keep my legs crossed. While keeping me pinned down, he starred at me for a few seconds, moved his head closer, teeth tightly clenched, sweaty from the struggle, and grinned, very few inches from my face. We went quiet for almost a-minute-that-felt-like-forever. He slowly let a drip of spit fall on my face, got up, kicked my right hip, and with a "tell anybody and you're so fucking dead", left.

I sat still for several minutes, not making a sound, expecting the door to open again, thinking of how I would defend myself again. My blood finaly cooled off. I pulled the panty up enough to make a knot on the ripped part so they'd stay up. Made a new ponytail. Walked out of there.

I told the librarian that the boy who'd been harrassing me had been mean again. They finally barred him. I never saw him again. Not even in my brain. I still can't see him, at least not his face when I think back, yet I can feel his damp (I first typed damn) sweater pressed against me. It disturbs me, because all these years I remembered that there used to be a boy in the library who bullied me, I even remembered that we fought once in the kids room, but I never, ever felt, saw, thought about the details.

Me and Jessica got to talk yesterday, which was good (yeah) - things have felt off the past few months, things were building up, and I just couldn't deal with that very well. It feels better now, because I got to voice things, she voiced things, and it just feels.. better. I think there still is some talking that needs to be done, I'm still a bit stressed out about it, but really.. it feels.. better. And that makes me glad. I also got bus tickets to Arizona for xmas, so yeyyy.

I was supposed to go see a play last night, but I just couldn't get my emotions at ease enough to do that, so I decided to just go home instead. Sitting there in my seat with most of my muscles so tense it almost hurt to touch my neck, starring out the window. It's so dark out there. As I was closening in on where the David Spade guy have gotten on in the past, I just knew he was going to be there, even though I haven't seen him since I last wrote about him (a month ago or so, heh), and I was right. Yet for the first time, I had better things to think about. I gave him a smile, and a hi, and turned towards the window again.

As soon as I got home, something felt.. off. I looked at our caller ID thing, and it said there was a message. As usual, I called and checked on it, even though it's never for me, only.. this time it was. It was my dad, telling me to call home. Scared, coz I figured I had drawn too much money from the account or something, I dialed him up.

He started talking about money, and I felt relieved, I reassured him I have enough (even though I actually only have $13 till wednesday next week), and waited for the "okay, bye" that usualy follows on that. It never came. Instead, he started with "Jennie, I don't want you to get upset, but there's something I have to tell you."

Heh.

Tuesday evening, my grandmother was driving somewhere, when she was hit by, or hit another car. The two cars rammed towards the river. The other car slammed into the water and sank, killing its driver. My grandmother's car got stuck sitting on the edge of the river. She is now in the hospital, in a coma.

I'm still in some sort of shock, on the verge of tears. I feel so far away, and I don't have a clue what's going on. Waiting for my mother to call me. All I can think about is how lucky I was to call her last friday on a spur of the moment whim, how lucky I was that my cousin printed out a recently scanned photo of me and sent her so she could see how I look now, how angry I am because we've talked for half a year now that she shouldn't be allowed to drive anymore. Most of all, I feel so bad, because ever since I left for America in august, I had a feeling I might not see her again.

I know. There's still hopes that she'll wake up and be fine.

I can't do this right now.

(Patti Smith)

As a sidenote: Go see Velvet Goldmine if you can. It has amazing music, the costumes are hilarious, horrible hairdo's, and sniggerific art direction. Not to mention frontal nudity involving Ewan McGregor, which is never bad (and I didn't even mention "The Pillow Book" ;)

It's very good. That's all. I'll go donate blood plasma now.

Around 11 am tuesday morning, my grandmother decided to take the car and go to the garbage dump place just outside of town. On her way back, she parked at this parking lot that is currently having work done on it, and thus has a lot of detouring and things going on. When she was ready to leave, the detours confused her, and she messed up trying to back out from where a lot of cars where parked. In the process of backing out, she managed to hit a parked, empty car (I don't know if she hit it with the front or back of her car), which began to roll. Things would have been alright, only my grandmother's car got stuck on the other cars towing hook, and so when that car began to roll, it dragged her car with it.

Both car rolled down into the river, where they separated. My grandmother's car began to fill up with water, and proceeded to float 75 feet in the water, sinking. Emergency personel showed up rather quickly, from what I understand, but there were a lot of problems getting into the car and getting her out of it. They said that she was conscious during the whole thing, and not greatly panic-stricken.

She was very cold when they brought her into the ER, with a body temperature around 91 degrees Farenheit (33 degrees celsius), but still talking. She gave them her personal information, and kept saying that things were alright, and at least the other car had been empty. And then she fell asleep, and has been ever since. She's on a respirator, with pneumonia, as her lungs have a lot of water in them.

It's... it's not looking too good. *shrug*

Apparently the accident made big headlines in the local papers, as well as mentionings in the bigger ones, and on telly. My mom is sending it all to me so I can see it. I'm just so tired.

You know.. I have so many memories of my mother, fewer of my father, but whenever I think of things from my childhood, it's often something that involved my grandmother. The time she hid "The Thornbirds", the time she bought me the white princess dress at the fleamarket even though she said I was too young to wear something like that (I now realize it was very slutty, and considering I was 10.. ;), the gold and purple plums she used to grow in the garden, her fucking pancakes which NO ONE can make apart from her, the lightswitch where she puts rubberbands she finds, her apron which she refused to stop wearing regardless of how many new fancy one her children kept buying her, the way she used to play piano in a loud booming way that made me wish I could play too (no wonder I dig Tori :>), the times she wore the Santa mask to hand out the gifts to her grandchildren, she's the only one who can make proper stewed elbow macaroni's and get yummie lumps in her mashed potatoes, the time she chased me around the house because I refused to take off her gold gymnastic dancing shoes, how embarrassing she would be to her tennants sometimes, every single time she'd tell me how I should diet, cut my hair, curl it, and "you shouldn't wear that red lipstick, it makes your mouth so huge!".

Everyone else's girl
maybe one day
she'll be her own

dreams with the flying pigs
turbid blue and
the drugstores
too
safe in their coats and
in their do's
yeah

Everyone else's girl
maybe one day
she'll be her own

smother in our hearts
a pillow to my dots

(Tori Amos)

My grandmother is still sedated as far as I know, but her condition has stabilized. It still makes me sad, but I'm not all heavy and down about it. Whatever happens I'll be alright, because I know she knows I love her.

I couldn't donate blood plasma - my veins are too small and too hidden in my arms! Blah :)

Practically all my relationships with people in real life have picked up and gone good again. I can giggle again, and I don't feel weird around anybody. Communication is a GOOD thing when used properly, dammit.

I don't have much personal stuff to offer right now, though. I'm calm. I switched rooms with Aziza (I've gone into the wrong room 3 times since, but still..). I saw The Waterboy and giggled and laughed and fell in love with Adam Sandler as always. I cut down on my work with the PJ Harvey page - I haven't updated in two weeks because I realized nobody has a right to say anything about it but me - it's my choice to run the page, and my choice to decided when I'm up to it and when I'm not. I have re evaluated this whole online thing - by not updating this diary or the PJ page for days and days, I realized what it was about this that I LOVE.

I guess we all need to step back sometimes, or confront things more often to get past speed bumps. All of a sudden I'm all psyched to complete new pages for this site, I'm all psyched to work on stuff for my simplenet account, I'm psyched to talk to old and new friends, I'm all psyched to smile.

Life IS a fucked up roller coaster. I guess we just have to roll with it.

1. I will see Jessica in less than two weeks! ARGH! I'm so excited I could pee right here and now in the lab :)

2. I hate final exams, but heh.. whatever.

3. I own $4.50 at this moment.

4. I will get $100+ from my momma on monday so I can pay bills and buy new shoes - my current pair have a 4 inches long rip on the side where my sock comes through for everyone's viewing pleasure.

5. I'm getting paid for today's lab monitoring duty - $6.50/hr, 8 hrs.. %50.. yeyy!

6. I am meeting 20+ tori amos fans tonight and tomorrow and possibly sunday. Wah.

7. I wasn't going to go tonight, so I'm clad in clothes that are smelly and worn as of 4 days, and greasy hair.

8. I washed my arm pits with soap and water in the bathroom in an attempt to smell nicer. Now I have a soaked t shirt.

9. I love this entry by Jessica.

10. Me and Aziza are getting along so great it's ridiculous. Hi sweetie :)

11. I have to run our my ride will miss me.

12. I should have logged off the second I wrote the previous statement.

13. Okay, now I will.

14. There.