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I'm not a virgin anymore. written @ 9:11 p.m. on October 31, 2003 Today was a day for conclusian and recognition. I worked today. It was long. It was great, I guess. 1st and second graders on a sugar high--- don't try it at home. It's quite dangerous. After I got home from work, I realized that I had nothing to do until I went to my parent's house. Being the kinda girl I am, I went to go change and re-apply make-up, and get Dharma in her Bumble Bee costume. My mom called 5 minutes after I got ready. She said she wasn't feeling well and wanted me to wait to see her until tomorrow. I started crying. I feel like my mom is my only friend (besides Scott... he is my best friend.) I cried VERY hard, for awhile. My mom told me that it was okay, you lose some of your old friends when you start getting older. You don't have as many interests in the things that used to interest you. I'm sorry, but walking around at 8:00 at night, as an 18 year old...asking random neighbors for candy as you are dressed up in some get-up does not seem like my idea of a good time. Call me boring (I'm sure you will...) I'd rather do laundry. I could see if you had a child, or a little sibling. Go with them, by all means. But seriously. How old are we? Okay... I see I see... you do it for fun. For ritual. Okay. I brush my teeth as a ritual, I pee when I wake up---it's a ritual. I have Saturday morning sex... a good ritual. When I think of Ross, I must vomit. It's a ritual. I smoke pot. Alot. It's a ritual. (Except for the next month. I have to get a physical for working at the school district. I gotta piss in a cup. Lucky me. It's horrible not being able to chase away estrogen with THC.) I feel like a 40 year old. I feel like the hip-grandma in her bell bottoms and a tube top, driving around in her corvette, smoking a cigg, with the Spice Girls playing. And she's screaming, "See World! I still know how to have fun!!!" This is me. I am the old women. Without the tube top. (I am WAY to ugly for one of those!) You know. I'd much rather sit at home, in my pajamas... cuddle up to Scott, and watch a terrible Sci-Fi movie with Dharma sleeping on my stomache. I would much rather go to lunch with my mom, or paint(draw), or even work. So. I'm different from you. I understand that. Haven't I always been a little quirky? I still know how to have fun. I'm just not a kid anymore. I have responsibilities, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I like my life now (after we move) and I love my husband-to-be, and I love the stability in my life, and the way I have had things work out. I LOVE who I am now... I am very different from who I percieve to be. My highschool friends think I'm self centered. Would a girl who is full of herself work with severe emotionally disturbed children for a living? No. I think not. This job takes my SOUL sometimes. It drains you. You MUST be giving. Working with children period, you must be that way. I've worked with children for YEARS. Maybe I just don't have room anymore. Maybe I am just fine this way. There are people I'd like to get to know better (Jenny, some people at work...etc. I still have my Andrew. Bastard! E-mail me!)... but those are my CHOICES. Jenny excites me, and seems to have a level head and similar approach. I respect her. It isn't that I don't want friends. I just don't feel that the friends I have hear (minus a few) are very limited, and the group is just fucked up. I am walking away from it. We will move to a new place soon, and if somebody wants to call me, do. But don't feel like you have to, because this is just a new chapter in my life. I'm not a teenager anymore, and I haven't been for awhile. I don't even care anymore how much shit Neona talks about me, or how Brent hates me (although I am truly sorry...) or how Kaitlin (no offense. I truly think you are adorable.) thinks she can fix and patch up my life. I like my life, and I'll love it after we move. I have entered the domain of adulthood. I am waving goodbye to my teenhood, and saying hello to my life long dream of bills, marriage, and a job that I love.
"As fire lights the wood it consumes, so the soul illuminates the body with consciousness."
- Srimad Bhagavatam
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