Sometimes,when one just exists,life can bypass the realities/pleasures of existance.So I went and did somthing that gave me a reason to be cheerful. YAHOO for me![sorry,but its kinda personal,so I won't go into detail] Smiling Cz

Thats kinda depressing... Sure, sure, sure, get us all hyped up about what you did... And then don't tell us... Thats ok, we understand, sure we really do, no I'm not kidding, really... (ps: Just fucking with ya')

I wish I still had something personal.

you go girl...ummm, yep.

I guess the existance of the internet has kind of negated to possibility of having something personal? That's too bad. I enjoy my private spaces. I think I'm feeling right now that I don't have any private space in the real world, either, because I'm living with someone and it's hard to deal with that.

miss isolde... what is your email address?

Interesting leap...from a lament on lack of privacy to a request for an email...but granted.

i know what you mean. my parents have to look over my shoulder all the time... my mom even began reading my diary once, and had the nerve to ask who i was writing to. finally, i did get them to stop being so nosy, as in they only read my poetry if i show it to them. why would they need to see it? they think i should find another skill to pursue, one that would yield more $$$ for when i'll retire. i'm fucking 18, and i'm a fucking poet, dammit! words are my life!

Thank you I was beginning to think I was neurotic.

no one's more neurotic than meeeee...unless you count that flea-ridden kitty in the garage. i *should* give her a bath. but that would mean scratches. but that would mean clean cat. but that would mean wet cat. but that would mean angry cat...

Just wash the damn cat.

she's eating. and i feel like being lazy and waiting until my sister comes home. buttons is her cat, after all...

Buttons?

I have an idea pez, I'm getting pissed by my parents lack of insparation to respect my privacy, and no matter what I've tried it doesn't work... So seeing as were both 18, both nerotic as hell,both poets, we should just move in together and say "SCREW YOU WORLD, WE'RE NUTS."

I know what you mean, Hal. I'm continually upset right now about people encroaching on my privacy. There are certain things in life that simply are private, aren't there? And it's frustrating when _anyone_, whether it's parents or enemies or ex boyfriends or whatever, violates a simple premise of privacy. It makes you start thinking about exposed you are when you have nowhere at all to go.

which side of the country do you live on, hal? i was thinking of trying to move out, but i'd definately need roomies. 20 hours a week doesn't yield much moolah, even if i'm above minimum wage and got a pay increase when i changed jobs. i can't wait until next year, when i transfer and will be living in a dorm. whatever my dad says, i'm NOT going to go to psu. and i'm not going to go to osu, either (sorry mom, to stop the tradition). i'd love to live in cannon beach, but it's too close to home.

oh, yes. the cat. buttons. my mom used to work as an aide at deep creek elementary when my sister went there. she was there on halloween about eight years ago, and another aide brought three kittens into the office that she'd found in front of a 7-11. extremely young kittens, in bad shape. i think three or four weeks at the most. my mom picked out the loudest (supposedly the cutest), which she named buttons because of how her eyes were so large. i could hold her in one hand. she had worms, and threw up the cat food we gave her. after a trip to the vet, she survived on antibiotics and cottage cheese for a few weeks. i think she's healthy now. she's escaped death by coyote and is the biggest cat in our so-called neighborhood. but yes, out cat is named buttons.

isolde why do i get the impression your are speaking with ambiguity?

Because I am. But I'm going to stop now, so fear not, oh gentle Patrick.

to scare my parents: i'm going to buy a one way ticket to brazil. when i get there, i'll hike out to the amazon and climb a tree. i'll stay in the canopy for the rest of my life, throwing feces at tourists like a yahoo. or i'll become a nudist.

I feel like I'm in some B grade teen movie and we're all up in the treehouse confessing that we really want to kiss Mr Mason, the maths teacher.

Well I know I do. Cat have you not seen him in the blue levi's with the tear in the knee *swoon*

no, i'd rather kiss mr. nikolas, the band teacher. he's yummy.