this is everything. since I left LA. everything I wrote down as a diary. July 11, 2004 Sunday, 9:34 p.m.   It was Night. It was 9:37 at night. She was leaving the country. It was 9:38 at night. People who were alive a minute ago at 9:37 at night, are dead now. Some of them weren’t even old. It was 9:39 at night. People who weren’t alive a minute ago at 9:38 at night, started their lives. It was 9:40 at night. A boy was thinking about a girl he loved. He was crying at her funeral. It was 9:41 at night. A woman was thinking about the boy in her arms. She was crying because he was born safely. Life throws some ironic things at you. There was a girl. No, there was me. I was sitting in an airport looking at lonely people reading and happy people talking. I was a lonely person, but I couldn’t read as I ran out of my book. My plan was to sleep as soon as I settled down on the plane. My sister was sitting there, eating candy. It was fruity, and I could smell it. I was sickened by it. Maybe this whole thing was sickening. We went to the beach that day in Los Angeles. My skin was dirty from sand and seawater and my deodorant was out, but I did have fun. I made—no, tried to make a mermaid in the sand, and she was looking good face down in the sand so far (I was building her back), but the tide came in and then she was gone. Washed away by the sea. My sister built a sand heart so I built one too. I wished for things I could never have when I was building my heart. I wanted people I couldn’t have while I was building my heart. It made me sad, and worse when I watched the tide take away my heart. I decided to go to a beach at least once when we were in Fiji and build a sand mermaid and another heart and maybe write a haiku in the sand. I promised myself I would take pictures so you’d see I was in Fiji. Fiji will have had poetry written on it by this girl. Me. I’m not so unique. Maybe lots of people write stupid crap poems in the sand. I love it, though. Maybe lots of people build mermaids dead on the beach out of grey and tan sand and use bits of washed up kelp for her hair. I even stole the idea of building a sand heart. I will take a picture, though, upload it onto deviantART so people who love me can see. People who love me will see how not unique I am. They always tell us we’re so unique, no one else is just like us. This is true, but the differences are so slight, no one can describe anyone, not accurately or you’d have to list every last detail about their looks and personalities, otherwise no one knows exactly who you’re talking about. You end up describing arbitrary things about someone, like what kind of clothes they are wearing or what color their hair is dyed today. Oh, you can’t miss her, she’s got seven hot pink necklaces on over a grey billabong teeshirt. I suppose the clothes thing is all you can use, though. You can’t tell someone’s personality just by looking at him or her. I think of people as kind of presents, you get through the wrapping paper, the physical attributes to the mind and personality inside, but I suppose sometimes the wrapping paper can give hints to what’s inside the person. And now you can give someone looking for you a description to hold onto, even if it can be random and change frequently. And there’s still so much more to you that clothes and multi colored hair and eleven different piercings could never convey. There are always new things to discover about people, reasons to get to know people. You know, they say handwriting says something about your personality. I wonder what mine would say about me. I would guess from looking at this page of writing, that I start out distant and then get really clingy and hard to read sometimes. Either that or it means my Kindergarten teacher should have spent time helping me learn how to write properly. I think the whole thing is a load of crap. Like horoscopes, The Weekly World News, Home Ec teachers, and American politics. But I digress. I guess loneliness makes me think too much. Like I keep thinking all this nonsense and half-expecting someone to applaud me. I also think a lot about my sunburn and how much fun I had at the beach, even though almost everything made me think of Scott or occasionally Dan. By the way, Dan, I just told America. I was sitting here, thinking about all this nonsense and I forced myself to say “Au Revoir, Ah-mehr-ee-cah,” out loud. I imagine we are off the continent by now. It was so much more romantic in my head, though. I saw me looking all and pretty and perfect in black-and white film, something that could be in a classic movie, like Casablanca or some other Humphrey Bogart hit. And by the way, Scott, the heart in the sand was for you…I love you. I miss you. I miss everything about you. I miss your cowlick, the sound of your voice, your incredible eyes…. Remember me, baby. Please. Don’t forget what we had. I’m thinking about you darling, are you thinking of me? I hope we can pick up where we left off, because there is still so much to know. Wednesday and Thursday, 14 and 15 July 2004 Wednesday and Thursday, sometime between 12:01 a.m. 14 july and 11:59 p.m. 15 July   Call it Paradise, Kiss it Goodbye Here I am, in Fiji, my vacation for the summer. Next Monday, I start school. Tomorrow, we get to NZ, Friday is my meeting with the principal, and Monday, I start school. I’m having a lovely time, though, in Fiji. Even with the newlywed couples hanging all over each other making me jealous and my splotchy sunburn. It’s gorgeous here. Yesterday, we arrived at 5 a.m. We found this little place to stay called “Beach Escape Villas.” We had looked around the beach (we’re about ½ block away from a bay. This. Is. Heaven.) and ate breakfast. Steve, the owner of the villas showed us a brochure for an island named MalaMala. We went that morning as soon as we were done with breakfast. It was fantastic! I was worried that it would suck; it would be a tourist trap and would reek of stupidity. To be perfectly honest, part of me half expected them to kill us all and eat us, or brainwash us, or something. Now we see the after effect of years of reading Goosbumps books, I guess. It was really fun, though. The 6 acre island was fringed by a white sand beach, the food was excellent, the drinks were free, and snorkeling was awesome. I’d never been snorkeling before, though, so it took me a few minutes to get used to breathing. The marine life was beautiful, though. There were blue starfish and electric colored tiny fish and big rainbow colored fish and coral everywhere. There was an octopus hole and a moray eel. It was incredible. I just hung out on the beach a while after that. I started building a sand heart, and this little boy (aged approximately 5 or 6) came and “helped” me build my “sand rocks”. I know, I hate kids and all, but he was so cute. And I tried to build another mermaid but neither the heart nor the mermaid turned out all that great. The sand wasn’t the same consistency as it was in LA and wasn’t as good for packing and shaping. I took pictures of my creations and then went for a walk around the island. On the side that didn’t have all the tables and the drinks, there was no one. Seriously. I was the only one. At one point, I just sat down and looked out across the sea and wrote random words in the sand. And thought about Scott incessantly. And how the only thing that could make this better was if he were with me, just sitting there talking to me. The waves gently licking our toes and we just sit there looking at the ocean and sharing an occasional kiss or something. Yeah, it’s disgustingly romantic but that’s the thought that came to mind. I miss him very, very much. The next day I spent at the beach by our villas. I spent a lot of alone time down there. It was great. Oooh! Storytime. I was wandering around on the beach in a sundress after breakfast and decided I wanted to have the opportunity to sit down or get in the water, so I went back to the villa to put on my bikini and some sunscreen. I walked back, past the kitchen where the cook guy was talking to the darker-skinned guy with glasses, who also worked there. They smiled at me so I smiled back and Kitchen asked me if I was going to the beach. I said, “Oh! Yes,” surprised that anyone was talking to me. He even continued. “The sunset will be beautiful tonight.” I laughed and continued walking. I got to the street, however, and remembered that I didn’t have shoes on. Broken glass is not a happy thing to step on. So I jogged back to the villas to get my flip-flops, only I missed the gate to get in. So I finally figured that out and had to backtrack to get to the gate, and when I went in, Kitchen and Glasses were still talking (not like I’d been gone that long), and Kitchen yelled out to me, “Did you get losted?” Haha, I love these accents. I said “Well, I forgot where the gate was…” and hurried off to get my footwear. I was finally ready to go and walked past that kitchen window again and Kitchen said, “Don’t get losted, your family will cry.” “Oh yeah, lots and lots of tears,” I said. He smiled at me and asked me what my name was. “Teresa,” I said. He repeated it and said, “That’s a pretty name,” and rested his head in his hands. I smiled and thanked him and left. Ha ha. I got hit on. Boo yah. Little, boring, non-unique Teresa got hit on (by someone who had to be over 18, since he wasn’t in school). I watched the sunset and he was right, it –was- pretty, and I sat in a hammock and wished for the entire world that it were friends with me instead of family. …And that I could share the hammock with Scott. Later, I passed by the kitchen window, closer, this time, on my way in from the street. I had been looking at the stars and Kitchen boy asked me, “Out walking down the street by yourself tonight?” ”Oh,” I said, “I was just looking at the stars.” “Ah,” he said. “Was it a pretty sunset?” “Gorgeous,” I replied, and flashed a smile. Boo, then my daddy came by and started talking to me about toilets and things and Kitchen said, “See you later,” and I waved at him and walked off with my daddy. The next morning, I packed and went down to say goodbye to the beach and ocean. It was a sad goodbye.. I ate breakfast and showed my sister some cool plants and then we loaded all of our suitcases up. The cuter guy, the one with glasses, was working and he and I locked eyes a few times. I always smiled at him because he was cute and nice and smiled back. Tee hee! And the last time I saw him he passed by me and said, “You have a charming smile.” Or was it “nice”? “Pretty”? I’m going with “charming” because it sounds better. Heh. I thanked him and a few minutes later we left for the airport. I had such a lovely time in Fiji. I hope we go back. Oh, but a wonderful thing happened at the airport. I was thinking about Scott and I remembered that I had put the ring he had given me in my purse somewhere when it had broken. I took it out to show Scott, but I put it back and I didn’t think I’d taken it out since. Sure enough, when I looked, it was in with my chap stick. So I have that at least. I miss him so badly. I wish I knew what address to send his postcard to. I’d just send it to his house but I know he’s not there. I sent everyone else’s though, Mandy’s, Erin’s, Craig’s, Dan’s, Sara’s, and Kajsa’s. And here I am, on my way to Auckland, New Zealand. Tonight I will be in Christchurch, hopefully with the opportunity to get online and post this. Love, Teresa. 17 July 2004 Saturday, 3:51 p.m.   What’s It Like? It’s been 6 days since I left. Not even a week. But it feels like forever. And I miss you more with every passing day. I hate you for it but not for real because I love you too much to hate you. I wish I’d saved your e-mail onto word so I didn’t have to get onto the Internet to see it, because I don’t even have the Internet right now. So This is Christchurch, I went downtown yesterday with my family, we walked all over the place. All the “Internet Cafés” are, in reality, darkened rooms full of cigarette smoke, old computers, and Asian guys (probably hackers) smoking and either carrying out their hacking or playing Warcraft III. I was really reminded of Craig, only hacking and smoking and Asian. Okay, the dark room playing Warcraft III reminded me of Craig. No wireless Internet at all. We got bus passes and found a Starbucks coffee place with wireless Internet capabilities. It was nice, getting to check my e-mail. I had a load of forewords but I did get some real e-mails. One from Scott and one from Thomass and I think one from someone else. I also found a secondhand store full of business and classy wear. Excellent. Also a pawn shop. I looked around in the business wear shop and found some cute black pants, but didn’t buy any because I didn’t have any money. Oh well. Today I found a real thrift store with real old clothes and things. I was in heaven. I found a black wool pea coat for NZ$5.00. That’s like, $3.75 or something in U.S. It’s 100% wool, and really warm and nice. Maybe some day I’ll go to that classy wear shop and see if they have any pinstriped suit shirts. Then I would have my complete pinstriped zootsuit! Yay! We also went to shopping malls with lots of “sales” and fashionable attire. I hate shopping malls and fashionable attire. I would much prefer to get cheap used clothes. Except underwear and things, haha, can you imagine buying previously worn underwear? Wouldn’t that be disgusting! Buying clothes in shopping malls means getting clothes without a story. I like to look at clothes and wonder why they got sent to a thrift store. Who wore them before me? What were they like? Or, if the clothes are hideous and no one would ever wear them, how did the previous owner get their hands on something so ugly? It’s much more fun than wandering around shopping malls and looking at rich, empty-headed consumers try on clothes they saw in a magazine or were labeled as cool and awesome, so to be cool and awesome and magazine worthy, buy these expensive clothes without a story. Ha! No thanks. I’ll take my flea markets and secondhand stores any day over your pathetic brand named crap. But really, keep shopping at your shopping malls and brand named stores and boutiques, because when you’re tired of your fashions, I’ll be happy to take them for a fraction of the price you paid. J 24 July 2004 Saturday, 6:27 p.m.   The Air is like Glass I touched the void It froze me I liked it I embraced the void It consumed me I hated it Miss me Don’t let me cry Save me Don’t let me go Remember me Don’t let me die Since we moved in this house three days ago, I’ve dreamt twice about the swim team. I miss you all so badly… Sara, You’re the only one I’ve even tried to call since I got here. You loser! Gone the first time and too busy to talk to me the second time! Man. Did you get my card? Kajsa, when I was in Fiji I kept thinking about how much more you would have enjoyed it than me. And that’s saying something because I pretty much had the time of my life. And any special adult stores I see here, I have to laugh and look forward to our graduation days! (wink) Dan, I know. I know. A week has come and past. Actually two weeks have. I miss you (well, talking to you)(well, not really talking but you know what I mean). Aaron! Science is NOT the same without you! I had my first chemistry class yesterday and not only was I completely lost, I didn’t have any one to argue with over homosexuality and the bible. Totally un-fun. Taylor, the bus is not nearly as fun as riding front seat with you. The bus driver actually follows the rules of the road and it’s totally boring. Plus, whom do I talk to? No one is cool like you here. Katherine, I miss you my painting buddy. Where’d you put that piece of wood, anyway? It’s such a shame I got grounded, next time we’ll be either sneakier or more responsible, eh? Teehee. Craig, I thought about you today! It was in the grocery store and one of the brands was “Craig’s” or something. So yeah it’s obvious but I was like “that curly haired boy” in my head. Miss you man. Scott, I can’t even begin. You crazy boy. I donno. It’s hard to say anything. I feel all funny in my stomach, like I’m falling and never hitting the ground. I think about you all the time. Not talking to you every night before I go to bed kills me. When do/did you get home? So yeah, we moved here four days ago actually, but we’ve only slept here three times. It’s interesting here. It’s hard to get used to the whole left handed driving, and I haven’t even driven yet. Also, prostitution is legal here, which is strange to me. And I’m living in a real city which is kind of exciting, although I kind of wish I had some friends or something to hang out with on the weekend. You know. Instead of my family. Friday was my first day of school. I left early in near tears because pretty much it just sucked. For anyone who’s never started school in the effing middle of the year, don’t try it. It sucks. It’s more of a challenge than I ever expected. And I guess I kind of expected I could make friends easily and quickly but the movie imagination I had was that I would whirl in, like in an old sitcom with bad acting, with a different style from everyone and being pretty and smiley and confident…but it’s kind of hard to stand out when I have to wear a uniform, I was having a bad hair day, so that kind of shot my confidence even though I tried to smile as much as possible. So that would be I smiled a little at anyone I caught looking at me. Which wasn’t really that often. By the way, the mainstream has got really crap taste in music. Or it seems so, watching the top 40 music videos on their equiv of MTV. Which my sister is watching. The number one song was Burn by Usher. Man oh man. They could at least play something that wasn’t American. Yeah I went downtown today, took pictures of odd signs and things. I’ll put a plug in here for a photo manip I did of one picture I took, here. Showing you can’t go anywhere to get away from American commerce. They have Coke and Sprite but no Dr. Pepper. Apparently they also have no taste in colas either. At least they have The Simpsons if they’re going to be playing American TV shows. But with the Simpsons, there are the soap operas, the reality shows, and the crappy sit coms. At least the commercials are interesting. It’s definitely not Utah here. It’s financially conservative but socially liberal. It’s definitely interesting. I saw a Snickers with Hazelnuts advertisement on a bus stop bench that had in big bold letters, “Our New Nuts Are Big” over a picture of the actual product. Definitely not as subtle as anything you’d see in an American ad. It’s pretty cool. I still wish I had some friends though. My little sister is popular. She’s the pretty blonde American girl in her class. Blah blah blah. I’m just blended in with everyone else. Well, we’ll see on Monday. I won’t have a bad hair day. I’ll MAKE them like me…or something…yeah. Maybe I’ll talk more. Make a compliment, complain about something, whatever. Tuesday is the day I’m really looking forward to. Tuesday we get the internet. And I’ll finally be able to post all of this. Tomorrow I’m going to check my e-mail and stuff at Starbucks but that’s about it. I think my poor mum is having some power issues. Whatever. I’m not going to easily comply with a rule that doesn’t make sense, so pardon me if I keep asking why I should do what I’m asked to do. Or what the point of a rule that doesn’t make sense is. Either I’ll see how it makes sense or maybe we can compromise. Whatever. I should be having fun, but, sorry Daddy, I’m not. I suppose I’ll continue to try and make the best of it. Or maybe once life starts making sense or at least once I have a friend I’ll be happier, but being this lonely all the time is wearing me away like a sandcastle when tide is coming in. One hundred and six more days until Daddy will let us back in the U.S., where at least the time zone difference might not be as atrocious if we decide not to go back to Utah right away. 25 July 2004 Sunday, 5:32 p.m.   Fragile Will Nothing is so significant about me. I went to church today. I felt rather miserable, actually. It was crowded and uncomfortable and that’s not really the kind of worship I like. All I really want is to get away from my family, really. All I really want is somewhere to go cry at. Daddy gets upset with me if I cry. Right now I feel like nothing I do is ever good enough for him. And he said to me earlier when I needed the SanDisk to be installed so I could access my files on the computer I’m allowed to use (even though the only image-editing program is Paint. There’s no Fireworks MX or Photoshop 7. This is really lame for me. Don’t be expecting updates at deviantart very often), “Everything you girls want to do always requires taking up my time.” I’m sorry; I’ll just ditch all this right? Just disconnect me from the only few things holding me together and then get angry with me when I cry all the time because I’m having some major troubles making the best of something that sucks beyond all reason. I never would have agreed to this if I would have known I’d never get to talk to my friends. I’ve checked my e-mail once since we left the country. We’ve been out of the country for two weeks and I know that sounds like I can’t get by without the internet but you know what? I can’t. It’s not like it’s easy to call or write due to time differences and that whole international thing. So this really hurts. I have. No. Friends. All I really need is a friend. Maybe if I had a friend the lump in my throat would finally go away. 27 July, 2004 Tuesday, 9:04 a.m.   The Clock Strikes Nine Birds are falling from the trees. Actually, they’re just flying down, but it looks like they’re falling. I’ve gotten to school 40 minutes early, hurrying because I thought I would be late. I thought second period started at 9. I got here at 8:56 and when the bell did not sound, I remembered – School starts at 8:35, not 8, making second period 9:35 not 9. I had an adventure getting to school, as well. My mom notified me 3 minutes before the bus left that it was coming, so I had to basically drop everything I was doing and leave. At least I remembered my lunch this time… I got to the bus stop just as the bus turned the corner to come get us. I was confused when I got on the bus, because there weren’t any other students on it. I got off at a light, determined not to miss my stop. I thought this was the right one because I knew it was at a light, and there was a uniformed student waiting at the cross walk. I followed her because I figured she was on her way to school. I didn’t bother to ask her. I followed her for a long way, growing ever worried that she was not actually going to school. My fears were actualized when she met a friend at a house and then went IN that house with her friend. I kept going. I found the road school was on, and asked a guy crossing the street where my school was, he pointed me in the right direction and I was on my way. I was so worried I’d be late, so I was hurrying, walking fast and my feet hurt because my shoes sucked. And I arrived four minutes before 9. And then 9 came by. Nothing happened. And THEN I made my startling realization. Wonderful. 1:24 p.m. I totally aced the chem test! Go me! There’s a really short Asian boy in my chem and math classes who sort of looks like the cartoon rendering of the lead singer of Gorillaz. He’s pretty cute. His haircut, eyes, height, and smile are frighteningly similar to that Gorillaz singer guy. Aubrey would love him. At interval, I sort of watched a girls’ soccer game between my school and another. I ate my pita sandwich. Then I found my tech friend Nik (whose personality reminds me of New York Dan’s) and talked to him a few minutes. Art was cool, busy work didn’t allow for time to not have friends so it’s all good. Hehe. Lunch was great. I ate my salad and sat on a bench and Nik found me and told me his crew was ready to let me in or something. So I walked with him and got told that they were ready to teach me “stuff” like New Zealand stuff and that they’d compiled a list. We ended up talking mainly about movies but it was cool anyway. They were all boys. But no worries. Most girls are mean and catty. We touched on the subject of the Formal (equates to Prom) which is Saturday. Tickets are NZ$55 which seemed a bit steep but daddy gave me money anyway. Cool. And I have a date now. Yes! One of Nik’s friends is in my English class. He’s not doing the creative writing assignment either so went to the library with me. On the way he was going to take me to get tickets. He ended up being my date. Woohoo! 1:42 p.m. Next is maths…ew. 1:43 p.m. Then again that Gorillaz cartoon look-alike boy sits net to me. Cool. 1:44 p.m. Wait…I have to be pulled out to be calculus tutored. Damn. 1:45 p.m. Hey…I get the internet today!!!1!!!!! Yay!!!!!! Life is good.