I’m rebelling against the idea of housework.  My peanut butter is incredibly crunchy.  I need to get my stuff back – I have bills to pay.  I want to be able to get into my mailbox so I can get whatever’s in there.  Why am I so damned impatient?  Why do I think it’s my business to find out everything about everyone?  Why do I have to be sick?  Do I deserve the pain?  Why do I have to do suck geeky things?  Why do I have to do them around Henry?  It’s all his fault – he makes me act like that.  I don’t usually, do I?  Alright, maybe I do.  Oh, what to do?  Just try to be more comfortable.  “Be myself.”  Isn’t that the advice I got in sixth grade?  I realize that I’m not that abnormal – [Step-Sister] was.  No one else I know gets boys that easily.  Well, that’s her blessing.  What do I have?  Uh, well, I don’t know right now but I hope to find out some day soon.  Maybe because my life has been such a struggle, I will appreciate what I get in the end all the more.  Gosh, I hope it’s all worth it.  I think I could understand Henry.  I think we could talk about the weird things we talk about and understand each other.  My home is very messy.  I could see us just hanging out, getting stoned,d and talking this summer.  Getting to really know each other.  I think maybe he might let me in.  After a long time.  Shit, it’s already been a long time.  Maybe he’s just surprised he likes me – a hard-core dykey type.  He asked me what my usual “uniform” was – hardcore?  Do I put off that image?  ‘Cause when I seem him I’m usually wearing jeans.  But now he’s seen me in two dresses – both black though.  I think I should get contacts.  I don’t like not being able to see, it’s quite frustrating.  This thing on my leg looks unhealthy to me.  I have to call Henry at eight so he’ll give my jacket to Maury so he’ll give it to Beth so she’ll give it to me so I can have my life back.  The kitty is here.  But (I think it’s a she) left ’cause the radio scared her.  The White House phone is busy.  That most likely means that [Step-Sister] is on the phone.  That’s good ’cause that’ll mean she’s on the phone.  Now she’s telling me a story.  A boy story.  Yeah.  She and Ryan are having problems – [Step-Sister] was away for the weekend and he met some chick.  She goes to Oak Ridge and was in my drama class my sophomore year.  Didn’t like her than and I surely don’t like her now.  Maybe she’s not so well-adjusted.  She thinks guys only like her for sex only she gives it to them.  Talked to Henry’s mom.  Even she noticed that I’m sick.  Talked to her last night too and I sounded fine – this thing sure did develop quickly.  Hopefully it will go away just as fast.  My belly itched a lot today – I think it’s going to peel.  But I sure hope not.  I wonder what Henry’s mother’s name is.  Why don’t I like watching tv anymore?  Someone is playing guitar very close by.  Not very good – nothing compared to Henry of course but nonetheless, playing guitar.  I want Henry to come play for me.  It makes me feel very neat when he does.  I wonder if Mrs. Valenzuela thinks I caught this damn cold from her son.

I like boys, they are a dream
I wish a boy could make me cream
I like boys, I’ve liked many
But right now I only like one named Henry
I like boys, they’re quite alright
But is there one who can go all night?
Boys are cool, they make me drool
Boys are a ten.
They want to do it again and again.

The floor above me squeaks too much.  People are turning on their air conditioners already.  What are they?  A bunch of wimps?  I think I’ll have to get a fan.  I’m really tired of being sick.  It isn’t fair, dammit.  I’m going to use up all my toilet paper on my nose.  Maybe I should buy some tissue.  I can understand why Laura shoves tissues up her nose.  It can get to be a real pain when it runs all the time.  My nose is raw from blowing it so much.  I’m bored.  I need a project.  And I don’t feel like cleaning.  Maybe I can see how man different things I can do with Henry’s name.  Let’s see:

HENRY ALFONSO VALENZUELA
SUZANNE ELIZABETH WHITE

Am I a geek or what?  Just like junior high.  Next thing you know, I’ll be playing MASH with myself.  I took the damn medicine.  Why isn’t it working?  I don’t like having this much free time.  I like being busy.  I would like to go to the gym.  Oh well.  Now I have to wait until I get well.  Crap.  What if I never get well?  Why am dI so paranoid?  And when I tell people, they find it hard to believe that I’m such a worrier.  They also find it hard to believe that I’m shy but I am.

Tags: come fun, Diary, words count

Categories: Diary

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