Am I back? No, not today but maybe next week. We'll see. I'll be in a different state in both metaphorical and literal senses. The big sitd comeback is in the works. Straight up.

Deleting inactive accounts? I hate sitD as much as I feel a duty to stay on. What's the criteria?

I have had this diary since August 25, 2004. It seems like yesterday. I've been a member of this site since December 11, 2003. Two years of blogging and I'm proud of myself. But this diary isn't for this kind of thing. So, I'm watching I Heart Huckabees and I love it and I love the idea that I understand it and find it hilarious and touching (and everything) and other people just don't get it. The fact that people walked out of the screening of this is amazing to me. I'm feeling all whirly-twirly tonight and I wish I hadn't fucked everything up so royally and I wonder what ever happened to responsibilty in advertising like why is it okay to show gratuitious violence and sexual content during the day on commercials? I mean, I like violence and sex as much as the next girl but I don't like it for the youth of the world. What messages are we sending out? That no matter how far we've come, women are still (STILL!) just pretty faces with no real identities. And it's okay to do whatever you want as long as your getting what you want. And eating grease and fat will make you happy and remind you that you are part of the human race. And that materialism is an admirable quality. Corporate America is disgusting. DISGUSTING. They are using you and you are letting them and you are liking it even though it is killing you. Our society is enabling murderers, extortionists, and liars and I am a part of it as well as you and I can't change it. And you can't change it but if you and I and that person over there shared something and felt something together and we told it to some one else who cared then maybe we made a difference and maybe we left a mark and maybe our existances aren't totally wasted on us.

It's hard watching your parents grow older. Well, in my case just one. My mom will forever be 40 in my mind but my dad is 51 this year and before my eyes becoming old. And don't bull shit yourself, your parents are getting old too. Maybe they aren't using walkers yet but each day is passing quicker and quicker. My dad has a variety of dibilitating diseases and maladies: reumatoid arthitis, fibroid myalga (spelling?), ruptured discs, etc. I remember so well the vibrant, funny dad who helped raise me. Now he's just a shell of the man he used to be. No manner of good cheer raises his spirits. No medicine eases his pain. He is just living day to day. And I miss the way he used to be silly no matter what even though it irritated the crap out of me at the time. And the way he smiled until his gums showed. And his stories about his glory days in football (he was all-state four years in a row and in his high school's hall of fame). Now he is depressed and hurting and no matter what I do it doesn't change. And eventually it will happen to everyone.

Ooo long time, no entry here. I'm in Richmond now. In less than a week I will be in Mrytle Beach soaking up the rays with my dear old fam. Big fun, I guarantee. Two weeks ago I was staying with Jenn (bf and cousin) and we invited our other cousin BJ over for a little scary movie/ junk food night. We grew up together so we naturally had a fantastic time. He's not big on horror flicks so he practically pulled my arm off all night. Anyway, He and Jenn went to sleep around 6 but I decided to just stay up and clean up her apartment. I started with the dishes. As I was watching the sink fill up the faucet flies off and misses my head by less than an inch. I'm talking the whole faucet. Metal. Amost hit my cheek. Then I'm standing there with water spewing everywhere wondering what I'm supposed to do. Ha! Try turning the knobs to turn the water off. Finally I got everything off and then I realize that just last night I spent three hours straightening my hair. Ah, life.

Exhausted and that's okay. Jenn's wedding is the day after tomorrow. I look a mess right now. Hair in a (very) messy bun, jammies, mascara smeared everywhere, cat scratches all over me (from my encounter with Jhonna's cat last weekend who is aptly named "Chewy"). I've been listening to Jewel and Alanis a lot lately. I wish I could play the guitar. I'd sit on some corner somewhere and earn some (much needed) pennies. Why don't I get a normal job? Because I don't want one bitches. The next time I'll be in the position to not have to work I'll be too old to enjoy it. Retirement is a long way off but I'm already too tired to wake up every morning and go to some a job I hate. Sue me. I've thrown up more in the past week than I did the entire last year. Antibiotics suck. Of course Jenn's got to have her wedding the week that I'm all nauseous and pukey. Thanks. I have to move out of the dorms in less than a week. I don't want to. This summer could either majorly suck or be the best ever. There's no inbetweeen. Plus I have entirely too much junk. I counted my books the other day and I have 55 in my little tiny single room, not counting my textbooks. I'm not looking forward to moving. AC is probably going to flip a lid.

I'm feeling all messed up inside again. It's provoked by the news that my cousin, who is 19 and a good friend, is getting married on Saturday. It's incredible how much I want to be in her place right now. And thoughts were running through my head like "Why isn't that me?" "I deserve it more than she does". But I wouldn't begrudge her happiness and love and everything. Never. I would sacrafice my happiness for hers. But I can't stop thinking about how she is my baby cousin. We're only 11 months apart but I always thought of her as a little sister and I love her so much and she just met this guy. And that's not even the point. She will be okay because that's who she is. I'm jealous and I hate it. I want to reach out to somebody, anybody but I can't. I don't know why. I'm so insecure and self-absorbed and more than a little shy. People who've known me for five years have no idea who I am. I'm happy just to smile and nod and do whatever they expect. And if people I knew in real life read my diary they'd be surprised that I'm like this. I can't deny it. I'm terrified that I'll turn into my mother. And she was a wonderful human being. Intelligent, well-read, caring, loving, everything. But she made so many mistakes in her life, one after another until she died because she held everything inside. And it all started when she was my age. I'm at a point now where I could go one way or the other. Long life or early death. Chose. Now. And all this came out of me when I heard about her wedding. I need someone to protect me from the world and myself. I need someone to say to me everyday that I'm loved. I need that so much. I've been exetremely sick for nine days. Like so bad I couldn't eat for five straight days. I just laid in my room and occasionally my family would call and act like I was overreacting and I needed someone. I am not self-sufficient. I wasn't raised to be. And that's an excuse but it's true. I've never had to do anything for myself. And I don't know how to now. I wish I'd meet a forty-something gentleman with a large bank account. And I understand that I'd be substituting him for the father figure I always wanted but that's okay. Girls do it everyday. I'm tired of being alone. Exhausted.

I love Sex and the City. I love it. One day I'll live in New York. I'll meet my own Mr. Big. It will happen with a few detours. It will happen. It will happen. Again. It will happen. My Mantra.

I am still happy. Life is being good to me. Of course this won't last long. I'm smart enough to realize that I am just on one of my many high points and that a low one is just around the corner. It doesn't make me appreciate this one any less though. I'm beyond trying to regulate this sickness inside. I'm just going to wallow around in it. Why not? It's so much easier letting me be me. In two weeks or two days or even two years I will be down again. I will think about ending it. I won't do it, but I'll think about it. I will obsess about every little thing. I will be very irritating to be around, a bitch. This will happen. It's a pattern. And just when I think I can take no more I will wake up on top of the world again. And this is me. There's no changing it and I don't think I want to really. This feeds me. Other people are addicted to drugs or alcohol or sex. My vice is a little more secret and I love it. I don't have to spend money to get that heady, disconnected feeling. While I know its wrong to go on like this, I also know I won't stop. There's comfort in stablility.

I'm listening to "Hey Lover" by LL Cool J and Boyz II Men on repeat right now. Sexy as hell. I need someone in my life. A guy. A man. Someone, anyone. I'm not desperate. I'm also not bad looking or a jerk. I could have someone. I'm just choosey. And why shouldn't I be? The real question is where is he? I've been waiting ever since I read my first romance novel at 13. Seven wasted years waiting for someone who suits me. Idiotic. My mom taught me patience and never to settle for anything that I could have better of. It screwed me up. I want to settle. Three days ago I ran across a person I used to be friends with in junior high on myspace. I also had the biggest crush on him but my best friend was caught up in this weird love triangle with him and his best friend who was her boyfriend (she got pregnant at 16, big surprise). One day my best friend and her boyfriend had detention at lunch and it was just him and I at the table. We just laughed the entire time. No talking, just laughing. And it was one of the best times I had in school. He was a great kid. Anyway, when I saw his picture on the site I just started giggling. Not laughing because I remembered good times, but actual giggling. Like I was in the seventh grade again. And I thought it was a fluke but the next day I visited his site and the giggles started again. In fact, right now I'm giggling. This guy has kind eyes and he was always a really great person. I emailed him and he hasn't replied yet. I feel like I just passed him a note. This is not good. I haven't went all giggle-y in a long time. It's a sign of losing my mind over someone who probably doesn't deserve it. But LL's crooning in my ear makes me feel like anything is possible. Damn him.

Repost from valerie102 November 17, 2004: Today is Thursday and tomorrow's Friday and before you know it, it'll be the year 2020 and you'll be married with brat kids and you'll forget all the dreams you used to have and you'll just be living day to day, wondering why nothing has meaning anymore. And its inevitable (unless you become super-famous and even then it might happen) so why not live your life right now? Today instead of tomorrow. Stop waiting for life to happen to you and make it happen.

I'm watching The Dark Crystal right now. Yes, I own it. It was one of my favorite movies as a kid. Second only to Pee Wee's Big Adventure. Anyway, I bought a big red watch. The face is three inches in diameter. It makes me feel like a kid. I also seriously stopped wearing my glasses. The world is brighter when you can't see it. Later That Night... I smoked my first cigarette a few days ago. I didn't inhale it, so not technically smoking, but I just breathed in through it and felt the burn in the back of my mouth and smelt the smoke all around my face. Strange. My hand didn't look like it was mine. I can understand the whole smoking thing now. I'm tired of being such a good girl. In five years maybe I'll be a cigar smoking dame who swears like a sailor. I like it.

Your name is like a mantra. Neverending. Over and over. It's all blending together now. All the mistakes of my life are just one giant sign on the highway of Val that reads: "Pull Over Now, Disaster Ahead".

I haven't written in this diary for a long time. Like months or something. Right now I'm watching the Surreal Life. I love it. I'm becoming a victim of the reality TV craze. Though I must say that I have been watching the Real World (the original reality TV show) for 10 years. I'm on the emotional rollercoaster again. It's hard to stop when you can't find the lever. And I kind of like it in a weird way. Like ragging emotions and heart pumping anger make me feel more alive then when I'm just mellow. I think I'm slowly killing myself with Ramen Noodles and The Golden Girls. It's like my special brand of cocktail drugs to fight loneliness. My soul feels stunted. I can't find a way to express what I need to. I'm crying out to family and friends but its like no one can hear me. Maybe that's just a line of bull. Maybe I just have a chemical imbalance. Maybe, just maybe, I don't have something horribly wrong with me. Later That Night... It's 1:23 am. I'm still up. I hate this. I'm an insomniac again. I keep remembering something that hasn't happened to me in this life. When I smell decomposing leaves or something really earthy I get this image of a bag or something being put over my face and smothering me. It's not a nightmare. I've felt this way for as long as I can remember. I'm not sure if someone tried to kill me as a kid or what but it's so real that I know it happened. I lived with my grandma for a very short time when I was a toddler. It's a documented fact that she is crazy so maybe I was crying or something and she tried to shut me up. On the other hand, maybe in a past life I was murdered. That might explain the constant paranoia I seem to carry around. It's something to chew on. Do any of you have past life memories?

I'm Going Home by Hootie And The Blowfish Mama please don’t go Won’t you stay here for one more day I’ve been your boy for so long now There’s so much I, I still have to say Sky rips open, and I held my heart in my hand Like a soldier on his very last day Cried myself to sleep that night, and I listened As I heard the angels sing Sha la la la Sha la la la, I’m going home. Sha la la la Sha la la la, I’m going home. Something inside makes me scream How could God take you from a little boy He’ll be alright, he’s by my side He’s not a little boy, he’s my pride and joy Sha la la la Sha la la la, I’m going home. Sha la la la Sha la la la, I’m going home. Summer on the radio and the phone rings And it was Jeanette She said boy we had to let her go I begged her no, no not yet You left six of us to fend for ourselves I guess it’s part of someone’s master plan We'll see you laughing, you’re my best friend You’re the light of the lamb, and I cried as the angels sing Sha la la la Sha la la la, I’m going home. Sha la la la Sha la la la, I’m going home.

I love Nas' new song "Bridging the Gap". It's got the ole time-y horn thing going on. Here's some lyrics from it: Olu Dara singing: See I come from Mississippi I was young and runnin' wild Ended up in New York City, where I had my first child I named the boy Nasir, all the boys call him Nas I told him as a youngster, he'll be the greatest man alive

Numero Deux... Yes, I am alive. Barely. My body is in excellent condition. My mind, on the other hand, is not. I'm reliving memories that haunt me just so I can feel something. Every step I manage to take sends me back two and I'm alone. Really alone. This morning I couldn't get up. I'm stuck in my shell. Someone pull me out or bash me in. Something. Please.

All the years I've tried With more to go Will the memories die I'm waiting Will I find you Can I find you We're falling down I'm falling -"Fall to Pieces" by Velvet Revolver I'm depressed and selfish and not goal oriented and frowned upon. My mom is dead. I cried today in the library. I miss her. Is it odd that I never hold myself accountable? If something goes wrong it couldn't be my fault. No way. No no. My sister (who, up to this point, has been my best friend/fellow competitor/confidant) is pushing me away. I'm bringing her down. You see, she is a genius. Literally. She's going to find a cure for cancer or better treatments for arthitis or something equally fan-fucking-tastic. I, on the other hand, have an average IQ and I don't even have a major picked out in my second year. It's pitiful. I can't ride on her success anymore. She won't allow it. I can tell. It's really quite embarrassing to be found out as the inferior sibling. I've worked so hard to cover it up. Now the whole world will know that I'm a no-good, low-life, moron. Maybe that's two parts horrific and one part refreshing. Just maybe. http://www.robertfrost.org/indexgood.html

Stupid girl All you had you wasted All you had you wasted My mind and body are disconnected I can't seem to find a medium ground I'm struggling just to breathe Sometimes I can't stop choking for air It's funny that on the outside I can look so together But on the inside I'm screaming No one I know really knows me They think I'm a top-of-the-line human being It turns out that I'm a top-of-the-line liar With a inferiority complex And a death wish And everyday I keep waking up To the same problems and the same People so it never changes Nothing changes. I'm stuck on one day: January 6, 2003 I wish I could just hit pause and forget But I never will I need her guidance I'm desperate for it Desperate for any kind of understanding Desperate Desperate Desperate

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.