nothing good for a few days

I feel like I should write something about the financial stuff going on or just... anything, but I can't. When I try to I end up getting really pissed off, mainly with myself. DAMN PMS! DAMN IT!
So maybe next week I will be able to write a good post about something that actually matters or at least express myself without feeling like I am going to explode.
I read the things that I have written and I know that some of it is good. I would like to believe that it is all trash, but that is the fault of hormones. I don't think I have it in me to fight right now.

-K

The jist of "Not Quite Right"

I had a whole post written and my fucking computer killed it. DAMN IT!

Well I will write the jist of it:

Bla bla bla, rant, bla bla, my shoulder hurts, bla bla pissed off N and D, bla bla bla, talked to C, bla bla movies with N D and M, bla bla bla bla bla, drove too fast, bla bla bla, happy father's day, bla bla, bla, going to take hot bath, bla bla bla, TGJ isn't as good as C, bla bla, I hope G is okay, bla bla, not my problem, bla
bla
bla.
That's the jist of it.
Now I am going to take a long-ass, hot-ass bath.

G'night
-K

Surprise Guest

So, when I first met G. my first thought was "I will never date him." He was loud, obnoxious, of course he was extremely funny. Still, I would never date him, that is what I thought.
I believe the first time that I ever met him, or the first time I spent any extended amount of time with him was when I ran away from home. I snuck out of L's house, where I was staying, to go driving with Matt. It turned out to be Matt, another guy who was Russian (quiet but funny; I had a crush on him. Skaters), and G Our tour that night took us around the town, stopping at a park, driving over bridges, and the like. Eventually Matt had to go home, around 4 a.m. Realizing that I would not be able to get back into L's house, I told G to drive me home. Eventually, he did.
It was a while before I met up with him again. I can't remember when or what the circumstances were. After getting to know each other (obviously not enough) we decided to date. This happened to occur around the time I was going back to Arkansas for Christmas. G gave me his coat to take back with me since it had been snowing in AR. I think I really liked him, but I was looking for a fight. And I got one.
L. is someone I was never really fond of. Turns out she wasn't fond of me either. As one of G's good friends, she wasn't happy about he and I dating. She staged an intervention, saying that G had cheated on me with her. There was a high probability that it was a false statement. I didn't care. When I got back to CA, I went over to his house, threw his jacket at him and thought that I would never hear from him again. I was wrong, again.
After that there have been various meetings and semi-attempts to start a relationship along with semi-attempts to prevent it.
After a while, one of G's friends came into the picture and there seemed to be a lot of friendly fire.
So when I got sober, it was okay with me that this former using buddy disappeared.
That is, until today when he popped up at my house. I was running so I didn't intend to answer the door. But after a few minutes I heard a guy's voice calling me. I took off my shoes, grabbed a towel and went downstairs.
G had been in jail for possession. He told me he got out of jail and the next night got busted again. He looked like hell. I looked like hell, but I had a reason. So I sat in my sports bra and shorts, wrapped in a towel, making various chit-chat for a few minutes. Then I said I needed to take a shower.
Things probably got strange when I told him I have almost seven months sober. We talked about rehab, about my dog.
There was no exchange of phone numbers, no hug goodbye. Perhaps he will drop back by sometime. I don't know.
When I saw Ray at the grocery store, I felt something. When TGJ came over, I felt something. When I saw G I did not feel anything.
Maybe it was rude of me to not react to my guest how I should have. But now I can embrace my 7 months with the knowledge that I too could have turned up in jail.

Oh, and by the way, the friend that came into the picture between me and G will be spending about 10 years incarcerated between rehab and prison. Sobriety doesn't look so bad now does it?

Back to the family idiot

My brother is a sad sad human being. Somehow he has continued to live through all 20 years of his pathetic life. No, really, I love the kid, but anyone you ask will tell you that he is, in fact, the most self-concerned prick on the face of the planet.
Don't mistake, he has done nothing wrong to me personally since we were both... much younger.
My brother was the first person I ever used drugs with. He would kill me if he knew I was writing this, just because he would finally have a good excuse to do so. I can't forget the first time I came home back to visit Arkansas, the Christmas after I moved to California. My brother asked me two questions:
"Have you done drugs?" and "Are you still a virgin?"
I lied on both of these questions. He smirked and patted me on the back. Later that night I smoked pot with him and some of his friends. I didn't really notice much of a difference. Then again, I was already high on the fact that my brother was letting me hang out with him, I doubt I would have noticed anything else. There was nothing cooler at that point then him saying "hey, you guys, this is my little sister, Kelly."
The next day was the second time I ever smoked pot; with Daisy, one of my brother's friends that dealt drugs. That was pretty amusing. I shouldn't be writing about this, seeing as I have 7 months sober tomorrow, but it is a funny story.
Daisy had a one-hit pipe, and I knew nothing about drugs. When she handed me the pipe, I just started inhaling. Little did I know that you have to LIGHT the thing. Dumbass. I don't think the brother was too happy about that one.
Then we sat. We watched Daisy's husband play Tony hawk on his play station. My brother played with a kitten and talked about taking it home. And that was the first time I ever really noticed that I was high.

From there on in I dove head first. I have never done drugs with my brother since.
But when I was first starting out, he let me come in his room. That was a big deal, I could never go in his room. We sat on his bed, which was on the floor, and he told me about drugs and about his experience. He told me how much to pay and for what. I wanted to take notes.
I don't blame, not even in the slightest, my addiction on my brother. Had I not used with him, I would have used with someone else. I don't pretend that any of this is his fault. I don't actually attribute anything in my life to him, except that talk on drugs.
Occasionally when I was back in Arkansas, he would take me for a drive in his Miata, playing music extremely loud, letting me run errands with him. I don't count on that.
I don't count on him.
Now days, I think he is slightly less angry with me. When I come, we sleep in the same house, he the floor below me. And I can hear the music. We never really see each other though. Only when both of us are up in the middle of the night, me because of the time change and him because he just is, trying to find something to eat in the same kitchen; the same one we used to cook in when we were growing up.
Now days, he might come smoke a cigarette with me if he has nothing better to do. We sit out on the front porch, both smoking, occasionally talking, mainly about him. The porch that overlooks the yard where we had snowball fights. Then, we lived together. We had an excuse to care for each other.
Now days, we are 2000 miles away. I don't talk to him, he doesn't talk to me. And that is okay. He's only come out here twice in 4 years, which is good odds for him. Once he came out with my dad to see me when I got out of the hospital. The other time he came out here for Thanksgiving. I chose that time to run away from home. I only saw him once or twice. Or is that right? I can't remember if he was here when I got brought home by the cops, or when I came home early Thanksgiving morning because I ran out of places to stay.
Either way, I don't pretend that we will ever be close. Most of the time I don't think that it matters at all. But I have this list, a list of all the people that I don't want to be like... and he is at the top.
And when I think of growing up, of becoming a woman... I will do it because I want to, because I want to be better. I want to treat my family better.
So everything I decide to do, I will do with the intentions of being successful. I don't mark my success off of the failure of others. I just want to be sure that I don't fall victim to the character defects that haunt others I once looked up to.
And I will chose my role models more carefully, I will become a better role model to others than they were to me.
Brother or not, and most of the time its not, I know that I am strong enough to move past him, to finish high school, to stay sober, to work hard, to be loyal, to treat people right, and hopefully never take for granted the many things that I have, and the people I owe it to.

I'm floating, introduction of L.D., and summer holdups.

I was sitting outside, smoking a cigarette (so fucking sue me) and I thought to myself:
I Am Floating.

Hmm.

So picture: me sitting in my backyard smoking a cigarette. From somewhere on the other side of the fence, in the street, I hear one of my neighbors say
"smoking kills"
"so does second-hand smoke," blows smoke that general direction, "so go the fuck inside."
If only I could be so non-premeditatedly catty.
I really do think that I heard someone yell 'smoking kills'. I ignored, and continued to suck ass at my hand-held poker game.
As though I don't know that smoking kills. Likewise, I want a poll that shows how many people quit smoking because a stranger told them to. There have been times that I have put out a cigarette because a stranger asked me to, I probably even lied and said that I would quit. I just wanted them to leave me alone. Or maybe I felt sorry for them and wanted to make them feel important. No, I just wanted to be left alone, with my friends, and no random people telling me what to do.
But that is one of the risks you run with having such a visible, controversial habit; people, whether you like it or not, have something to say about it. I also worked out the neighbor situation to go, as above, with this ending that follows. They say
"why don't you smoke inside"
"I don't smoke inside because I would much rather give annoying neighbors the retributions of second-hand smoke diseases than the people in my family. Who, by the way, leave me the fuck alone in the peace and, normally quiet, of my backyard."

Again, I just can't be that big of an ass. Especially now with my long-term race to sainthood.
Am I religious? I have been so able to hide from that question for quite some time now. With the all allusive trip to stay with and work for my dad in a month, spending oodles of time with his happy-go-lucky girlfriend, I think I need to figure out someone to pray to. While that was primarily a joke, I suppose the threat is real, but for rather different reasons. L.D., as I so unkindly will my father's girlfriend, seems to be a large stepping stone for me to achieve a new level of sainthood. Basically, if I can deal with this 2 month living arrangement and not talk shit about this person, I will be at a whole new level of personal enlightenment.
One of the main problem is my so-far-successful avoidance of L.D.'s kids. I immensely dislike teenagers and pre-teens, especially those actively involved in a church related youth group. I think that is because they can talk trash about me in the name of God;
aka. Poor Kelly, she isn't saved. I just feel bad for her, she has no direction in life and she will die and go to hell someday.
Where as I just want to call them dumbasses but I will resist the urge to do that, or even excessively make (I'm working on it) evil comments to my father when no one is around.
And today, for a few hours I ran around my house, alone of course, and cussed, throwing up my hands. This is the uncontrollable force that life has- it can royally fuck with you, change everything around, and... ugh.
So that is what my little 3-4 months a year vacation spot has become. A new Business Development Center will be taking control away from the individual management and development of all the automotive dealerships under the rule of the Siwel family. And the Siwel family I have no problem with, that I can remember at this time. It is the direct fracture of the chain of command that ticks me off. Its a mistake, for the shoppers like me and everyone that I know, it is a big, BIG fucking mistake.
Occasionally I stop to wonder 'am I only pissed because this changes my job status and description for the summer?' but I don't think that is what it is about. I can sleep just as well at night if I am unemployed. Personally, I would sleep much better knowing that I won't be working with my brother.
I sleep good hours. I make good grades. I'm intelligent. I am a wonderful person when I can get my shit in gear. I contribute to the welfare of this house. I love my family. I love my dog. I love being sober. I love fixing my father's house and it is quite possible that I could get behind loving a power greater than myself. For the past few years, that was not really a possibility, mainly because I thought that I was God.
Well, my ramble here is done for tonight. And I really am not as spiteful as I can sound. I really am not as set in my hatred as it may seem to an onlooker. I will continue to become a better person, and that isn't just a load of bullshit I use to motivate myself; it is the truth and I know it to be the case. It just isn't going to go any other way, I won't let it.

I woke up one day and decided that I was going to die happy.
Actually, I stumbled onto happiness when I tried to get out of going to school indefinitely. Either way, surely there must be a higher power. And if there is, maybe I can learn to respect and care for L.D. and her family.

Ramble Ramble, bla bla bla. Good shit.

Things to remember for the future:
1. Take auto; you sadly enough love cars. This could become an addiction given the right circumstances.
2. Take Italian. What is there to say about that? Again, I blame love.
3. Oh, fuck it... Those are the two important things for now.

I have a shopping list the size of... not China, more like...Australia. All of which I am sure I could live without. This means that I will keep this shopping list around me for the next few weeks until I decide that everything on it is unnecessary. There is no money, damn it, so stop spending!
And I am adjusting to that fact. I believe in giving to goodwill, etc. I also believe in being more amazing than all my friends, ugh. Actually, that is part of the reason that I avoid some former acquaintances like a plague. I am completely sickened by my inability to be a normal, attractive human being when I am forced to compare myself to other people my age. Fuckers.

Pleasant. That is a word that I never thought could be used to describe me. Oh, sure, maybe by friends of my grandparents at a 50th wedding anniversary, but not by younger-older people. I am not pleasant. I am obnoxious, unrefined, annoying, loud...
I am sick of this house. Oh shit, I shouldn't have typed that. This is my self-induced hell; to sit here, however long it takes, and become a successful, charming, semi-normal female.

There are 30-45 minute drives every evening. N and I go where ever I so desire. That is my time to... I don't know, be out. I like watching people from the safety of my locked, big, metal Jeep. I like speeding off the instant the light turns green and grinning, listening to one of my many CDs.
That's another thing, I have all of these CDs that I have never listened to. Sometimes I get a little download happy and POOF, I need a new CD case.
So this is my life, for now. And then I will move, and hopefully change. But I can feel the unsatisfied feeling coming on. I know I am about to force myself to undo this silly arrangement I have set up. (weird feeling in stomach) I am going to... grow up. How horrifying.
I don't mind getting older, to a certain point. I don't see myself getting past... 30, and that is on a good day. Really though, its like after 30 I just disappear off the face of the earth because I can't see myself after that. I used to have a friend that swore she was going to kill herself when she turned 40. At the time I thought it was perfectly possible, neurotic, but possible. Now I have a friend that is afraid of graduating. Tomorrow, he will no longer be able to hide behind that fear because his ass is DONE with school. He, I am talking about TGJ, is (so I believe) scared shitless about growing up, as am I. TGJ is one of the most immature-mature people I know. Well, maybe not, but he is definitely a rare breed.

But, I am going to have to end this before I begin to really fuck over my live-on-my-own-in-a-box plan with the realization of my desire to be outgoing and wonderful...
and pleasant.
eww.

-K

Look Ma, NO HANDS

Wow, its been quite some time. I am feeling, all of a sudden, the drive to get a job. The main reason that I would do such a disgusting, out of character thing is because I actually want to help my family. That's my problem though; I can spend money, especially when its not my own, and primarily on me. However, when it is my own money I tend to waste it, not on myself, but on my family members. And that is what I want to do. Because obviously we keep each other afloat. That is, they keep me afloat and I shit gifts their way when I can.
So that is my thing right now. I have that physical feeling like I am terribly nervous, which always signifies that I am thinking about growing up. Damn it!
I mean it when I say that I want to help my family. I want to help my dad do stuff with his house and come out to visit me. I want to help him pay for things when we go on vacation. My mom and stepdad, well, I want to help them get out of debt. I really do. At least part of me does. The other part wants a new bathing suit, which I got.
Maybe I should say what has been going on lately. On Saturday (today is Monday night) N and I went to Old Town Pasadena in search of a way for me to spend money, my "I'm a success in school" money. This is money that I did not ask for, let that be clear. On this day, N had been talking to me about getting a divorce. Personally, I thought it was a big joke, but I won't get into that. So I drove up to Pasadena the majority of the way, switching drivers in the ghetto when we had to get gas. N lovvved that. So we get up there and I become completely unable to shop, panic-stricken or something, anxiety running amok. So we came home and eventually things got better, in N's marriage and my ability to CALM THE FUCK DOWN.
Sunday, N, D, and I went up to Ontario. Actually, we drove up there to see a plant that David could maybe-possibly work at sometime in the near future if he is offered a job. Then, it was off to the Ontario Mills Mall for Katie to attempt to shop again. This time I was successful. In total, a large amount of money was put down in the name of good grades. Then we hopped back in the car and drove around in the Foothills (Rancho Cucamonga, Los Altos, etc) looking for signs that this area was a suitable place to live. After a few hours, we headed back to "The Bubble". A good day for all, and I got to drive 80 all the way across 2 counties. Hell yes.
M. who is a friend of N is going to be moving to Rhode Island soon. This came about suddenly, and is absolutely, 100% not my business. Unfortunately, my whole family got attached to her, so it will be a loss to us and all of California to see her go.

On a side note, I was graced with the always puzzling presence of The-Good-J (we shall call him TGJ for short. Not that its that much shorter). Not much to say about that either. Being around him I realized exactly how much I have learned to control myself over the past 6 months. That is a breath of fresh air seeing as I have locked myself in purgatory until I change my ways. Wait, let me explain- not that there is any kind of attraction there, simply the lack of co-dependence that once grasped onto everyone.

Looks like I am (weird feeling in stomach) growing up. I am going to have my truck, a job, maybe a new house. Summer... Okay, yes, you have me; it has officially begun.

You came and left, again and again, Summer wave.

Kristin

The title has no real significance in this post. Its Sunday. I went to church. The sad part about me and church is that I usually don't soak up anything the preacher is saying. Actually, I am sitting there thinking about how many years of college I need and what I want to major in. Then I start thinking about all the horrible lies that I've told and how it feels better to run away. Its just nice to sit in the balcony overlooking all the people in the church and having one person talking really loud, but far enough away that you can ignore it.
Church is great for that reason. Its 90 minutes that I can sit there and think to myself about completely irrelevant shit while still being among buttloads of other people <--- that is how its different from sitting in my house doing the same, there are other people. Sometimes its nice to have other people around and not have them ask you questions.

******

I sound like I'm afraid of people... Not really, I am afraid of being an idiot, an asshole, or any other kind of self-depriciating fucker.

That's all.

-K

As the school year ends...

Well, I did it. I don't think that I had a particular goal when I started this school year, but I did it.
1. I am off probation
2. I got into S.J.H.S.
3. I got all A's, on everything I did this year, even if I had to argue one of the tests
4. Caught up in credits. If I kept going at this rate I could graduate next year
5. Over 6 months sober
6. Driving
7. Passed the exit exam
8. Been nice to my family, most of the time
9. Etc
I am thinking about volunteering at the preschool during the summer. This time I would be doing it because I really wanted to. Last time, it was fun, but I needed the community service. Now, I don't need the community service; I would be doing this honestly.
So I am starting to think that is what I will do for the part of the summer that is "unknown" for now. If nothing else, I few days a week.
Not sure when I will be seeing my dad. July, I know that much. Isn't he lucky, he gets me for Father's day and his birthday. Summer is kind of... Sucking. Actually, I want to go to Arkansas. I wish I could go some at the beginning of the summer and some at the end.
Now that the school year is really wrapping up, I am starting to panic (for the first time) about what I am going to do with myself. I know that once I get my shit together, I want to go back to the H.G. and see everyone. I couldn't stand going back there looking like shit and not totally falling apart. What I mean is, I don't want to go in the middle; I will go because I want to or I will go because I need to, no fucking around this time.
And I will listen. I will not play around like I did last time.
I think about all I have to do, or the lack there of, and I am actually overwhelmed. Yikes.
No, not overwhelmed... Tired. Part of me just doesn't want to get it together, doesn't want to grow up. That's when I know I have to.
Hmm, I am starting to get a little pissed. I was thinking about calling my dad, but I got pissed. I don't think I could talk to him right now. I don't know why.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
With everything I have been writing, I am really shitting away the anonymity
So find me. Whatever.

-K