This will do.

I'm sitting on my couch watching the women's gymnastics world championships, and listening to my mom speak with our houseguest. And I just came to the realization that I am really and truly happy. Right now, at least.

My stepdad isn't around. He's up north at a new job. So it's just my mom and me. I'm getting a sense of what it would have been like two years from now without her husband. I've developed very little emotionally in the last two years, but it's good now to get back to just being me and her.

School is going well, too. Suicide English (love that name) is actually kind of easy. And Accounting is getting less boring.

Aaaand. I just earned a 1 in my county solo/ensemble competition. I'm quite proud of this, as last time I did solo/ensemble I got a 3.

So yeah. I'm pretty good.

Oh wow. It's been a while since I posted. Sorry about that.

Well, the "home" and "family" situation has deteriorated further. Notice the quotes. Basically, my mom has admitted that yes, her husband ignores me, and yes, he is a lying jerkface. Well, she didn't actually call him a jerkface (that was my addition) but he did lie about what he would try to do. Namely, being my father. He hasn't tried. Jerkface.

On a writing level, things are good but a little frustrating. I'm currently writing a chapter in my Marauder fic where the characters attend a friend's funeral. Surprisingly, the funeral scene was easy. It's the scene after that's being troublesome.

I've been thinking lately about the whole concept of an afterlife. I mean, there's life, and there's the afterlife, but is there an inbetween... like people in comas. What's their consciousness like? And can other people be invited into that consciousness, maybe in the form of dreams? Yeah.... I think I'll write a story about this.

Oh! I just discovered 30 Seconds to Mars. They're a band, in case you don't know. I've listened to their album A Beautiful Lie, and it really flows beautifully. Almost like a classical piece -- it has different sections that all make sense on their own, but it all ties together into one cohesive unit.

Well, overall thumbs-up on life. Still no boyfriend, but hey. The summer's still young.

This is Olivia, signing off. For now.

DoctorWhoDoctorWhoDoctorWho... ohmygosh!

And on a happier note that doesn't include panic attacks, I just watched the season 5 preview for Doctor Who on iTunes. I want it, and I am seeing if my TV has BBC America.

My Brain

I went to the doctor's today to investigate the random adrenaline surges I've been having recently. I mean dizziness, elevated heart rate, the whole enchilada. I thought it might have something to do with my English teacher running into me with her car last October, but no. Very different.

It turns out I'm having panic attacks caused by an adjustment reaction with anxious moods.

Wonder what caused that.

At least I don't have brain damage, because everyone knows that highly speculative surgery costs a lot more than a couch and an excessively certified set of ears.

AAAARRRGGH.

So... yeah. I have two weeks until prom and still no date. Plus next week is spring break, so no chance of securing there, as all the boys I'm likely to see over break are either dating someone else or completely horrendous. Completely horrendous meaning that they have possible abusive tendencies.

See? I'm a nice girl, I don't discriminate against boys who are nerdy or play music. In fact, I like musicians. And nerds. I like it when I can have a nice, intellectual conversation with a boy instead of just physical stuff.

So why the heck can't I get a date?!?!

Latest News on Boys

Well, the date I mentioned a few weeks ago fell through. I'm pretty sure the guy has a girlfriend too, at least if holding hands and kissing are any indication.

Here is where being a halfway normal teenage girl would definitely come in handy.

Psycho Editor

So. I'm putting together my school newspaper right now, which is a deceptively smooth process when looked at from the outside. However, when you're in the middle of it, running around, taking pictures, yelling at people who didn't finish their articles.... well, let's just say you perfect your Aggressive Walk of Doom pretty quickly.

Annoying Incident of the Day:

A girl was supposed to write a spotlight piece on a teacher at our school who's doing a "Fundamentals of Aviation" class after school. She told me last week that she had written it and put it on the journalism server. Then she told me three different folders she thought it was in; it wasn't in any of them. She claimed to have written it, still, and that it was on her USB drive. Which was conveniently stolen. I found out today that she didn't even interview the teacher. The sad thing is that I can't write this off as freshman stupidity, as she's been on this paper for two years. She knows that all articles in all states of the writing process go on the server. And where they go on the server (New Articles is a pretty logical title, no?).

Grrrr...

Warm Fuzzies and Cool Breezes

Today I was asked on a date with a boy for the first time in almost three years. Given, he's younger than me and so I'll have to drive, but still. It's a date. I'd almost given up hope that I was attractive to the male gender in general. Tennis practice was unusually giggly today.

And yet...

Different boy than the one I was planning to ask to prom. I'm not sure how the one I was intending to ask will take me going on a date with another boy.

I cannot believe I am actually debating what to do in a case where two different boys are actually viable options.

Friends Who Want To Die.

To all those friends and/or random people I know who feel they need to die:

1. You do NOT need to die. Trust me. I've felt the same way at several points in time. Yesterday afternoon while I was driving being a case in point.

2. You are not a waste of space. In the least. You have made a contribution to the world, whether it's a masterpiece, or having over a hundred followers on YouTube, or even just giving a sixteen-year-old girl a new insight into the world of music. And that's only what you've done for me. There are six BILLION other people on this planet. You've made at least some of their lives better. Wastes of space don't make life better; therefore, since you have improved people's lives, you are not a waste of space.

Give life another shot, keep your chin up, and don't forget that you have people who would cry really hard if anything happened.

Who Am I Kidding?

If he wanted to be here, he would be. If he had any inclination at all toward fulfilling his duties, maybe I could forgive him. But no. He has no custody and even less responsibility.

I mean, I'm carrying the guy's genes. You'd think he could give a crap.

Sometimes my eyes can't roll back far enough.

No, Mom, I do not want to ask your husband to cut this little stick for my latest cross-stitch project in half for me. Nor do I want to ask him to show me how to change the oil in my car.

That's what children's scissors and guy friends are for.

(P.S. - Would anybody be interested in a very cheesy cross-stitch banner? I've finished at least three of the things in the last two days.)

Any Day Now

Sitting in the darkness
Listening to music of the living just beyond that wall.
We yearn to break out,
Rejoin the people who have no idea how lost we are.
Maybe a cement mixer would work.

Only Slightly.

Let me say this first: Valentine's Day confuses, confounds, and frustrates me. I have yet to spend one with a significant other. Once I secure a significant other, I am sure it will be a lovely day.

And yet, for the first time in several years, I am looking forward to the day, because I will see a young man who gives my stomach the kind of feeling too much soda gives the rest of my body. And I will ask his mother if I may invite him to the social event of a teenager's spring. Why? Because I am slightly frightened of his mother.

For anyone wondering, he's #2 in "On Boys".

Hello Hello

I'm really enjoying being friends with a guy without hormones getting in the way.

Just thought I'd throw that out there.

Lilly

Today is my dog's birthday.

We will be celebrating by making her a cake and playing before I have to get ready to go to a dance. She turns seven, which means there isn't very much time until I turn seven... teen. Not that old, I know, but I'm almost an almost-adult.

Needle in the Arm (no, not what you're thinking right now)

Last night I accidentally stuck a sewing needle a quarter of an inch into my elbow.

Don't ask how I managed to do that, it just happens.