I keep another journal online.  It's my secret journal, the diary where I keep my secret thoughts, the ones I'm not supposed to think, but the outlet so that they are at least acknowledged in a timeline.

I've been thinking about it for a long time now, and I need to cut ties with this journal, what it means to me and how that period of my life is over with.  The following is the last thing I wrote in my secret journal, but feel is a decent farewell, a retirement speech, if you will.




I've been in hiding, for nearly a month now.

I don't know where I'm going. I don't know whose coming with me. And I don't know who I can trust.

It's like everything's going through this evaluation period, where it gets rated as something in terms of how good it's going to be for my future, so I know more about my surroundings so that I can plan my next move. "Where do we go from here??

It's cliche, but I'm at a crossroads. I was at this point last year but it scared me so much that I deferred it for a year. I have to face it now, a jumping off point...not a falling from point, certainly not a starting over paint...well maybe, maybe in terms of certain things, but not a completly blank slate. That's what I'm looking forward to, training wheels for being a grown up. I really like this stage, it's frustrating, but you're learning and you can't fail so much because of that safety net.

Maybe that's all family is. Just a safety net for when you fall. "Don't worry, I'll catch you." It's who you can trust. I'm trying to find my local family. I know it's there, I just want to know who is in and who is out.

.
.
.

I'm glad that pot can do this for me, look at myself in a way that isn't denial or disgust. I've been hiding from my hiding problem. I say it's just because I really like my room and I have everything I need in this little cave, but it's probably something more.

Definetly.
Yeah.
Shit.

Maybe I should be treating this journal as a therapist. No one knows about this journal, so it's confidential, but it's open to anyone passing by, I just don't have to see them passing by, so it's like there is a passive audience, but not one that judges or comments. Like a diary, but a conversation. (it was the only way I could write in a diary as a girl, because I needed to know my audience to know what I was going to write.) Just not handwritten, because I can type faster than I can write so that way I get more of the thoughts out. But I do like the look of handwritten journals, timelessness of it. I toyed with the idea of later writing my journal entries by hand into a nice journal I recieved as a gift. But it ended up being too nice for me and I couldn't judge the quality of the entries that I was writing (because only the good ones could go in the nice journal, so I stopped putting anything in the journal, and when I noticed how long it had been since I put anything into the nice journal I saw how long it had been since I had written a good-enough entry and doubted the quality of my writing, my lifestyle, myself, and stopped writing, documenting, photographing at all because of it. I started looking at the internet as looking at mysef, and how in facebook people present themselves, how they want people who sort of knew them in high school to see them now. I wasn't sure of how they saw me in the first place and I wasn't aware of the fact that they were even looking, but now they're my audience, now they were looking at me, every move I made. What if I don't want them to see me, what if I'm pleasant of the fact that since whatever end date we've been invisible to each other? So what if everyone I graduated high school with is in grad school already and went to Europe last year for a semester on exchange?

I need to stop dwelling on other people's lives and just concern myself with my own. I can't be so concerned with other people's reactions that I never make a move of my own. I need to start motivating myself, be my own cheerleader.


Hahahahahahahahaha, "save the cheerleader, save the world."

22 hours going strong.

Let's hope I can just make it through the next four, then I get almost 5 hours of napage before I get to work all night.

Sleep is for the weekend.

I've been spending my day so far going through the LJ communities t_shirt_surgery, clothes_surgery, and refashion.

I'm getting plenty of inspiration for this year's Frosh Week shirt design, since it worked out so well for last year's. Unfortunetly, I don't have a sewing machine to actually be productive today and do something with the bag of 15 shirts I was planning on throwing out.

Oh well, it's only about a month to Frosh Week, I can hold off until then when I can have access to giant tshirts and people with sewing instruments.

Oh.
My.
God.

Josh, I love you for bringing this back into my life. 

I really need to see this movie.  It looks like a more grown up Garden State, mostly because Zach Braff is in it, but subject matter too.

The Last Kiss
September 15

Also, Jacinda from the Real World London, is in it too.  (I can't believe I know this kind of stuff.)

This is going to be a short point form, because of the nature of the evening.

Pre-show
-Left at 5 with Gordon, we made it to the ampitheatre around 6, to wander and such.
-The pit was already getting packed.
-I bought a shirt and had to be the-girl-who-wore-the-shirt-of-the-band because I didn't come with pockets or purses.

Peaches
-Peaches was fucking sweet, I wish she played more than 6 songs.
-I think I was the only one in the pit singing along.
-The guys around me were saying "She's a dyke, but she sure can put on a show" which I guess was a good thing?
-Her drummer was Samantha Maloney, who is a)awesome, and b)was the drummer for Hole for a while, and c)the guys around me were totally crushing.

Bauhaus
-Gordon left me to sit in the lawn before they started, so at this point it was just me, and continued to be just me until the end of the show.
-Bauhaus was also pretty sweet, the singer was very Bowie-esque, and they closed with "Ziggy Stardust".
-It was about during Bauhaus that I realized how thirsty I was. I had a plan to not eat or drunk or pee during the 5 hour show, it was already not going well because I was already feeling weak.

Nine Inch Nails
-I was standing third from the front, centre, behind a couple tall guys who were behind their short girlfriends.
-I was looking forward to throwing some 'bows at the girlfriends who were bleach blond and had it coming.
-I wasn't prepared for the squish. But I held my own for quite some time.
-I can't fucking believe how close I was to Trent.
-For best mobility, I had my hands up to my shoulders, vertically, so that I could push and have a little space in front of me. There was a girl next to me who had them out horizontally, and choking me, and I couldn't breathe twice because of it.
-For the most part, I was at least half, if not a third of the size of the guys who were around me.
-There was a lot of combined sweat on me, but I was even okay with that.
-A guy behind me kept hitting me in the head with a rolled up paper-towel-tube-looking thing. I asked him nicely at the start of the show to stop hitting me in the head with that, but when he persisted I head butted, scratched and kicked him, to no avail. This dude was an asshole who seemed especially bent on smashing me to the best of his ability.
-However, even with all the squishing, when "Something I Can Never Have" was played, the pit kind of all swayed together, no pushing, just a communal sway, which was one of the best parts of the show for me.
-But it got to the point where I was getting entirely too dehydrated and weak to hold it out, and the asshole guy behind me certainly wasn't helping matters when he was trying to get up to crowd surf (who does that when they are 4 from the front anyways?)
-It was appropriately during "Gave Up" when I gave up and clawed my way out, a larger squish forming in my absense. I was so disappointed in myself that I couldn't hold my own in there, but as tiny as I am in comparison to much larger drunk guys, with no one with me to hold me up and make sure I don't get trampled, I think I held out pretty well until the 6-8 song played.
-I took a three song break from the show where I ran to the bathroom (which was line-free, interestingly, the guys bathroom lines were around the corner the whole night) to drink cold sink water, walk around the back of the floor section, and chug a bottle of Diet Coke before getting back into the show.
-I stood around the back of the crowd, right side, in front of the speakers, and the band's cute photo/videographer.
-A much better time was had there, as I could dance and jump and sing to my heart's content, without getting trampled or even touched my another human being.
-Trent seemed really pleased with the crowd last night. Stopping to say that they'd been touring this album for like 20 years and it was shows like this that made it all worth it and that after this tour their going to take a short break to record a new album so they can tour again and have more shows like this. It made me feel pretty damn special to have been a part of that. Especially because at the show in November all he said, during the entire performance, was that the Toronto show was the fastest selling, and that was it.

I hope someone from the internet has a setlist from last night. I want to live it again. Except the squishing. I had several bruises and a scratch on my arms from the smashing, as well as some really achey internal organs (or internal bruising) that's on my hip, exactly opposite from my paper crane. I remember getting especially smashed there, when my hip was lodged with the pelvis of the guy in front of me. I hope my organs are all in tact still and that none of them exploded or anything.

Alright, I'm gonna head to the shower now, get some of the other people's sweat finally off me, and try to make it down to the Pride Parade with Jess and Todd.

Best Birthday Weekend ever!

EDIT 6.26 2:32pm
Nick sent me the setlist for the evening.

Somewhat Damaged
You Know What You Are?
Terrible Lie
March Of The Pigs
Something I Can Never Have
Closer
Burn
Gave Up
Help Me I Am In Hell
Non Entity
Only
Wish
The Way Out Is Through
La Mer
Into The Void
The Big Come Down
Reptile  I actually think this wasn't played, but was somehow  wrongly titled, because I know "Dead Souls" was played somewhere in here.
Suck
Down In It
Hurt
The Hand That Feeds
Head Like A Hole

Margot died Friday night.

Amanda told me in a Facebook message.
I wish I hadn't been so afraid to see her, but I'm so glad I was able to come home to see her.
I can't go home now, I went the only week I could, at least for the next couple of weeks.
I want to be there for the services. The tattoos were inked to show our support for Margot over a year ago, now I know they're to show our support for each other. I need their hugs the most now.

I was never able to give Margot the Kinder Eggs I had collected for her. My parents are going to bring them to the wake tomorrow. Somehow, this feels like a better use for them, a more fitting bouquet.

Now I know why it hasn't stopped raining for the past two days.
I just hate being so far away.

i wanted to destroy something beautiful, but i'll probably just end up destroying myself.

I got my Threadless order yesterday, so this is the shirt I'm wearing today.

I'm feeling pretty emo.

dancing around, in green underwear, to "Devil's Dance Floor" on repeat

"Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, a little more next to me
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor"

I can't wait to hear Bexy fiddle tonight.


St. Patty's isn't the same without James :(

Alright, after some searching, I got the information...

DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE AND FRANZ FERDINAND
Monday, April 17. Doors @ 6.30pm

Tickets are $44.50 in advance or $55 at the door.
On sale on Friday, February 10 at 10am.

I know that me, (maybe) Matt, Jeff, (little) Erin, Tim, Shera, and (Shera's sister) Erin are interested. Probably more. Unfortunetly, my credit card only has about $90 on it and I just dropped $330 on tickets to Montreal, so I really wouldn't be too comfortable (or financially able) to foot another bill for another group of people.

i just felt the urge to yell at a girl in the bathroom and tell her that i didn't think less of her because she went from the toilet stall to the shower stall and that i would have done the same thing.

it is also 7.34 on a monday morning and i am still drunk.

i love my job and co-workers

My dad emailed me today with a link to an article he read in today's Chicago Tribune. It was an article from Saturday's Washington Post about my Uncle Dave and cousins Max, Jon, and Ben - touting them as a tiddlywinks dynasty. According to other members of my family across the States, the article was also in papers in Seattle, Kentucky, and Concord, New Hampshire today, so I wouldn't doubt it somehow got picked up nationally.

One of the many eccentricities of the Lockwood side of the family.


Dave and Jon Lockwood.

At about 2pm yesterday, my Grandma died. She never recovered from the stroke she had two weeks ago. I don't know much of the details because I wasn't there. My parents said it had been really bad for the past week and that they had prayed for it to end fast. She was said to have died peacefully, just after my Grandpa visited, when he was still in the hallway.

At least I'll be home to say goodbye. The wake will be on Wednesday and the funeral will be on Thursday. My mom and my uncle are figuring that out today.


EDIT 1.03pm: For the love of all that is holy, if you see this and are coming to the Ab party tonight, please don't console me there. I am going tonight so that I can celebrate the end of the term, relax, and see my friends, and I am NOT bringing this inside those doors. I told myself that I won't puke or cry this year, and I'm sticking to that promise.

So, my dad was a very silly dad.

He told me to schedule my flight home in the hours that would be convienient for him to pick me up from the airport on the way home from work.

Then he told me to reschedule my arrival flight so that I could get in a couple hours early to surprise my mom at a performance she is doing that day.

Then he emailed me to say that he is going to be in Michigan on work the day I arrive and I need to find my own way from O'Hare to Homewood.

I could take the Blue Line and the Metra back, but that takes two and a half hours to complete, and I would still have to walk from the train station to my house with a huge honking suitcase.

Here's my plea...

Is anyone out there, in the Chicago-land area, going to be in that area on December 14, with a car, who wouldn't mind picking me up from O'Hare when my flight gets in at 2pm?

There's Canadian beer in it for you.

It just goes to show you how big a nerd I am when I get excited about the fact that I am the very first person to check a new book out of the library.