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My Journal

  
Friday, May 30, 2003
"Kids Say the Darndest Things"

Ding dong, ding dong
A little boy sways to and fro from beyond the vertical pane of glass. As I open the door a pair of big blue eyes briefly look up. "Hi Danny how are you?" i ask. (next door neighbor) "Um, um hi i'm um good. Can you tell kayleigh and Lia's dad that I can't play baseball by myself?" With a perlexed look I say, "why don't you tell them yourself, they are in the kitchen." I pause for a moment, "come to think of it Danny they are going to be going somewhere pretty soon I am not sure if they will really have time to come play with you." "Um, well, well, hey do you live here?" "No, I don't" Oh, um (Totally ignoring my answer and leaving me baffled at why he asked in the first place he contiues, his stutter takes ahold as he gazes at his wiggling toes) can you tell their dad that I don't want to play baseball anymore then?" With a chuckle and a confused nod i say "um sure..."
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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Wednesday, May 28, 2003
“What’s there to fear?”

One by one they fall to the floor. My satisfaction revels in the moment. The tweezers held so carefully between my fingers while my eyes focus on the prize. I fear the meaning behind such irritations. No matter how many I yank, it appears that 50 more fall in line behind it. Why do I bother? Who cares? What am I so afraid of anyway? These are the questions I ponder day after day, as I stand helpless in the mirror noticeably losing the fight.

I, like millions of other young people have gray hair. I am just one of the lucky ones who’s hair color is so dark that it illuminates the grays so much that people feel the need to comment about them all the time. “Oh you have a gray hair, let me pull it out for you.” Oh yes please that’s exactly what I want someone who’ll happily volunteer to tear apart my scalp. “But you’re so young, you shouldn’t have grays now.” These are the things I hear everyday. My hairdresser loves to remind me of it, hoping of course that I will succumb to her urging and pay more money to have her color my hair. I am fine with paying $17 thank you very much.

My mother was blessed enough to go completely gray by the ripe old age of 19. She thinks I am being petty about my hair and makes it a point to tell me time and time again how she was totally gray at my age. My brother at 26 seems to have no problem with his gray, although I would say it’s more on the silver side. I believe that it becomes him and gives him a more distinguished look. Mine just looks like a scraggly bird’s nest.

Although it’s a natural process, being 24 and seeing it spread like Hedra Helix is no comforting thought. This seems to feed my underlying anxiety of getting older more than I would care to admit. I am one of those people who had never used hair dye to alter my appearance, for fear of the dreaded “root” look. I am too lazy to keep up with such annoyances. Not to mention the cost of the stuff as well. I see my mother week after week fretting over the thought of having to turn her head into a pile of chocolate pudding while inhaling such ghastly fumes. It’s a chore I would rather do without. Unfortunately the only alternative is to gain ownership of my grays and make them my own. Not that they aren’t already mine, but I think you get the point.

To those of you out there who feel my pain so to speak, I say this. “WE MUST LEARN TO ACCEPT LIFE’S NATURAL WONDERS, WE MUST NOT LET SOCIETY TELL US WHAT’S ACCEPTABLE, AND WE MUST TAKE OWNERSHIP OF OUR GRAYS! I will keep telling myself this but I will never believe a single word.

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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Tuesday, May 27, 2003
"What they really thought of me"

Last night laughter and memories erupted from the old orange Nike shoebox. The places, the faces, the blips of days, frozen for a lifetime of smiles. The musty smell of the chemicals used to manufacture such gems seeped out like a civ. Labeled meticulously in order as not to disturb the chronological order of our childhood, the photographs stood as a testament to our past. Every picture was greeted with a warm chuckle and a bashful shake of the head. My mother held one particular photo in her hand for a brief time and with a smirk and a laugh dancing in her eye she began to tell me of a time she once remembered.

I was in the living room dancing as I had done quite often, dressed like a “jezabel” as my mother put it. With mismatching leg warmers hugging my legs, colorful ribbons dangling from my arms and hair, and layers upon layers of tu-tus, my mum and grammy played audience to my dazzling display of innocence. “You cared only about your dancing and your own little world”, she explained. “I tried to understand you world but you wouldn’t let me in.” I knew for sure that my mum was going to lead me into a sappy story about how she loved me so on and so forth.

She continued on about that time her and her mother sat mesmerized by my gracefulness. She sat on the couch shaking her head beguilingly from side to side and said with an ere of hopelessness, “Oh mummy do you think she’s going to be ok?” My parents always knew that I was slightly off yet could never figure out why. I was a free spirit and did things my way or no way at all. I lived inside my head and never let the world peek in for fear of being figured out. My gram took my mum’s hand in hers and whispered in her thick Canadian/Scottish twist of an accent, “Don’t worry dear, she’ll be just fine.” Now I know that my parents thought I was a total fruit loop.

In commemoration to this story I have put up 5 new photos of my days as a fruit loop child.

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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Wednesday, May 21, 2003
"Liviya Thoreson and Her Inner Child"
(ALIAS ALPENMUFFIN)

M- Hey hot stuff, ya wanna cyber?
L- No way cyber-dude.

M- Well I just thought b/c of your screen name and all miss muffin…
L- You people need to stop calling me 'muffin', 'muff', 'muffy'. I'm talking about a nearly famous breakfast muffin from Alpental's cafe.... plus it's not like my name is hotsexymuffy69 or something

M- So when did you decide to start growing bunny ears?
L- One day I was talking to Dano who mentioned there was a bunny in his yard. For some reason I mentioned that at times I'd rather be living life as a bunny. That's kinda what spurred it I guess...

M- What is your take on the male bunny species at the moment?
L- They're all a bunch of playas

M- You say that you are the queen of everything and nothing at all...do tell.
L- It's one of the most powerful roles you can have as a queen. One moment you're ruling the world and then suddenly if you just aren't feeling it any more you can just rely on the latter part of the title: nothing at all...that way you can still be queen, but you don't have to do anything you don't feel like doing because you're the queen of nothing and everything at the same time.... it's rather complicated actually

M- Do you rock the palace disco style when no one is looking?
L- Well the palace landlords (you've met them....) are kinda uptight folk and don't allow too much disco in the place.... but we've been known to throw some ragers from time to time

M- Do you believe in sasquatch?
L- No. They did film “Harry and the Hendersons” down the road from my house though... and my friend's dad swears he saw one in Alaska on 2 different occasions- he also swears he has left his body before too....

M- How many fingers am I holding up?
L- Um... I can't really tell- I think my SPY-cam must be broken or something

M- Do you or did you ever find Prince sexy?
L- Na, he's not really my type, but I did/do like some of his songs- like "Raspberry Baret"

M- I know you have a deep desire to get with Michael Bolton
L- I think you need to re-evaluate your psychic skills... unless we're talking about a different Michael Bolton. The only Michael Boltons I can think of are the blonde-mullet crappy singer and the computer nerd guy from "Office Space"...I sure hope that's not my secret deep-down desire, if it is- get me help

M- Please state for the record you allergies so that we may fell bad for you and send you tissues
L- I think my only known allergy is pollen stuff.
And guys

M- Who is the coolest person in the world?
(eh em eh EH EM)
L- I'd have to go with my mom….. I mean, YOU of course! Hey that gun you're holding at my back kinda hurts (heh heh- just kidding)

M- Do any of these questions make sense you think?
L- They all made sense.... are they supposed to correlate to some bigger grander scheme that I'm not getting? I'm really out of it....
M- Nope not really

M- Any final thoughts AKA “Jerry Springers”?
L- What are “Jerry Springers”?
M- Oh ya you grew up w/o TV. Well I will tell you b/c now I feel bad for you. At the end of every show Jerry has his "Final Thoughts.” So my take on it is a “Jerry Springer”, ya dig?
L- I don't think I have any Jerry Springers”, but maybe an “Oprah Winfrey” analysis of my life right now, I need to stop stressing!!!

she has taken the liberty of spanking my ass for an interview so please visit her profile for some sh*ts and giggles.

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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Tuesday, May 20, 2003
Poésie d'un Minimalist


long: intr.v. longed, long-ing, longs
To have an earnst, heartfelt desire, especially for something beyond reach. (Middle English longen, from Old English Langian. See del- in Appendix I.)

inward: adj. 1. Located inside; inner. 2. Directed or moving toward the interior: an inward flow. 3. Of, relating to, or existing in the thoughts or mind. inward doubts. 4. Intimate; familiar: is inward with eth right people.

reverie: n. 1. A state of abstracted musing; daydreaming. 2. A daydream: "I felt caught up in a reverie of years long past" (William Styron). (Middle English, revelry, from Old French, from rever, to dream.)



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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Friday, May 16, 2003
so hot right now OH so hot....and it's mine all mine.

3 1/2 day weekend yet again. i love my job. three days of sun and fun pour moi. and maybe a date thrown in there somewhere.

oh hey paddock if you are not tied down this weekend call me and we'll do lunch baby.

no stories today folks i am not in the mood. just a little update on my existance is all. bon weekened!!!
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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Thursday, May 15, 2003
I hate it when you have "those dreams" right before you wake up. Lately i have been having A LOT of "those dreams." I must say though everytime i have one of "those dreams", it is someone new, which makes for some good times in my book.

Last night or shall i say this morning just before i am to awake to the sweet sounds of my alarm clock, i had a dream about ____________. he is absolutely one of the hottest men alive in my book. why the __________ you ask? well i must refrain from using names b/c this is a snowboarding website and well this was a pro snowboarder. i will tell you this though, there are no "e's" or "i's" in his name at all. guess if you dare.

might i also add that this person had the most unbelievable body i have ever witnessed...ya ya i know it was a dream but black boxer briefs... holy jesu batman!

With all of "those dreams" i have been blessed to have in the past, never have i ever drempt of a pro anything...famous people, well that's another story...and the carson daily thing well i have no idea what went wrong that night...i think that my brain was confused.

I also hate it when the next day all you can think about is that person. so i guess i will be a cat in heat all day today.

GAD DAMN BOYS!
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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Tuesday, May 13, 2003
"cig-regret"

I came across a box of candy cigarettes last night at the bottom of the toy chest. Resting alongside the broken plastic teacup and the headless G.I. Joe figurine, it cracked my memory wide open.

Squatting behind the old stonewall, hidden by the flowering dogwood tree we opened the new pack. The logo gracing the side panel captivated our attention, like a moth to a flame. We felt so mature with a hint of child-like deviance. The first stick was gently plucked from its resting place with complete intricacy. Carefully it was placed into my mouth making sure I not wet the end too much. We all crouched with eyes bulging and mouths drooling. “Well? Go ahead,” Jimmy barked. I inhaled and then let out a big puff puff and out came the cloud. “WOW! Let us try now!” the box was snatched from my clutches, yet I sat content with my newfound sophistication. As the others mimicked my demonstration, I began to remember back to when I was four.

My gram sat quietly in the kitchen having a smoke. I stood and observed her for a few moments until she was made aware of my presence. “Come here for a minute meggs,” she gestured. I hesitantly inched toward her, deathly afraid in the process.

I feared my gram as a young child because she was very outspoken and crass. Yet now that I look back I realized how amazingly loving and funny she was. She had no problem with cussing at or flipping the bird to passing motorists. She was neither like my mother nor my father, so her demeanor was never fully understood or appreciated until many years later.

Her hand outstretched with a cancer stick tweezed between her index and middle finger. “Open up,” she said. I really had no reservations because anything that my gram told me to do, I did. As I closed my lips around the smoking barrel, she directed me to inhale. In one breath the cigarette came rocketing out and fell to the floor. Choking and gasping for a cleansing breath, she lifted my chin and peered into my eyes with the utmost sincerity and conviction and exclaimed, “That’s what smoking is like don’t EVER let me catch you doing it.”

A wave of guilt soon befell me. I have betrayed her, I thought to myself. Not literally but I felt a sense of enjoyment from faking the actions. The wrapper turned soggy and began to unravel. I took it from my mouth and studied it. I then looked to my peers who seemed to be in their own world. I knew that this would not be the last time they would crouch behind the old stonewall behind the flowering dogwood tree. Next time it could be the real thing.

I never did try smoking again thanks my gram. However to watch her suffer as she does makes me sad that no one knew then what we know so well now. She dies a slow death everyday. Choking and gasping for cleansing breaths, she regrets every breath she ever took.

What in heaven’s name were these companies thinking? Even after the surgeon general issued the warning these disgusting reminders of death sat among the Skittles, and the Reese’s peanut butter cups for children to purchase and practice with. I lay on my floor last night just turning the box over and over again. The more I looked at it the more angered I became. Why parents would even consider buying such an item is beyond my comprehension. Thankfully this promise of maturity and grace will be archived forever in the depths of our memory.

PLEASE REFER TO PICTURE #1 IN MY PHOTO GALLERY FOR A MEMORY JOG

Dedicated to Mr. Link
*Link i am thinking about you.*
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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Sunday, May 11, 2003
"Moment of Weakness"

Stop,

don't look a minute in front of you to see what your fate is.

What you bare is not the answer, so find another channel because number 10 is already on.

These plans you've indicated to me don't seem too clear.

Static comes from your lips as you speak.

These avenues you drive down are the dead ends to your existance.

Make it all count for something.

You know, the sidewalks are safer in the end.
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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Thursday, May 08, 2003
"Saturday Night Bowl"

Spring has come and Saturday nights commence. Beers will be flowin' butts will be smokin' and women will be scarce. This is "bowling night" for the guys. My brother steps out the front door in his full garb. His camelback rests over his shoulders and the clumps of dried earth fall from his boots, leaving a trail behind him.

The distant screams of machines progressively intensify. Neighbors watering their flowers turn westward and pause. Twelve deep they come. The league has returned for another evening of debuachery.

"Saturday Night Bowl" is what they refer to four-wheeling as. This is their bowling league.

Ranging in ages 26-45, these men and their machines reak havoc in neighborhoods while bowling from town to town. The meticulous care taken the pride shining through the powder-coated rims will soon be blanketed with a cloak of brown elegance.

The fevered engines rev while they eagerly await their departure. The night is drawing it's blinds and the men must move on...From house to house they gather their troops until they are 20 strong.

Blackberry skies are illuminated by the ever-changing machine-made constalations on the trails. Hours pass, laughs are shared, hunger is rampent. Always ending up at the same place "Pago Pago", the men feast on endless plates and drink til last call. Stories are exchanged and memories are unearthed as the night dances on.

After all has been exhausted homeward bound they go. One by one the constalations diminish, orion, gemini, libra, little dipper, the north star. My brother is left to his own devices as his commerades steel away into the blackberry night.

The machine is tired now as it creeps into its resting place under the old pine tree. Up the stairs and into the house, the door closes inaudibly behind him.

The goose down pillow beneath his head reminds him that there will be many more bowling nights to come. This is only the beginning.

if you like this story please visit my text gallery for more.
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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Wednesday, May 07, 2003
hmmmmmm i think i need a friend today. and the one inside my head is not cuttin' the mustard. wanna be my friend?
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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Tuesday, May 06, 2003
I would like to dedicate my journal entry this morning to Miss Liviya T. (alpenmuffin). Miss liviya is one of the most wonderful people i have ever known, as well as a very talented and intelligent young woman. Please go to her profile and give her a heap of congratulations for being accepted into Columbia University for Graduate school. This is a very prestigious school and Miss Livy is one of the few and should be very proud. She has been a support and a encouragement for me over the past year and i hope i can continue to do the same for her as she embarks on a new path in her life. Congrats my dear livs we are all very proud of you.
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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Saturday, May 03, 2003
RIP Old Man...the symbol of the "live free or die state", NH has succumb to the force of mother nature. For those who had never witnessed the man in all of his glory please visit:

http://www.cnn.com/2003/US/Northeast/05/03/old.man.mountian.ap/index.html

you will be missed.

new pic in the gallery of the man. taken at dusk spring 2001.
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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Friday, May 02, 2003
Jamaica Plain arts festival tom...screw the rain i'm gettin' down with my bad self. i am going out to lunch today with meryl and avery...much needed company from two very amazing women. john in the morning just talked about doing the safety dance or tyhe humpty dance....he chose the safty dance over the humpty...ok that was random....no stories today b/c i am not feeling very STORY-LIKE today...so for you story fanatics you can get your fix by going to my journal entries....and reading til you can't read no mo.

"TO COOL FOR SCHOOL"

ok so all of a sudden i thought of something that stranged me out last night...(hmmm stranged me out? wtf is that phrase? oh well it's mine and i own it NOW!)

My ex BF imed me out of nowhere last night. He was probably the person i have connected with the most in my entire life. The situation when we were together was very odd...to much to get into right now but in any case he was very young at the time and i was past all the sh*t that he was so green to. i broke up with him and he never seemed to get over it.

He has now turned into quite the rockstar and acts as if he is the authority on all that is "UBER COOL". He proceeded to tell me about the rad members only jacket he got off of ebay last week. I seriously wanted to laugh in his face....but all i could do was write hahahaha on the screen....it doesn't really have the same effect but what can ya do?

He tries to be something he is not. to me he will always be silly little Evan...but he is to cool for school to even talk to me like a human now-a-days. "My band this and my band that....whatever! i don't give a squat about your f*cking band! i wanted to talk to HIM not to the "uber cool" Evan who dyes his moppy nest jet black to fit into the "I AM A ROCKSTAR" mold.

ok i am getting mean now...anyway i get annoyed b/c last week when i saw him he gave me the Evan googly eyes like i miss you......he always does that... he says how are you very softly so that no one else can hear and then when they are listening he pulls out the "I AM A ROCKSTAR" motiff and runs with it as if he has this certain image he must protect.......he never really asks me about me he just rants and raves about the band and what bands he can one up me with too bad i am the one who inroduced him to all the music he listens to now...hey do you know about.... ya Ev i was the one who told you about them....ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!He also says how he only skates alone now b/c all the kids he used to skate with are stupid....well that's nice mr. kenney, all those stupid people are still MY best friends....so sorry they aren't ass cocky and faux as you...whatever!
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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM

Thursday, May 01, 2003
rain rain go away come again another day...

I AM

Sometimes i don't feel so strong. I pretend to not let things get to me and then it gets me in the end every time. Putting a shield of armor on for the world to see, i hide.

I hide myself in other people's insecurities and lay silent. Pushing it all down down down to fit in a nice neat box, which i stash on my shelf of unconsciousness until it cannot be stuffed anymore.

"Where is the cover to my box?", i say when it all comes out. "Give it here! I cannot think about this now...i must be strong. i must show the world that i am capable... able... of dealing with these insecurities of my own."

The fear of what they will see in my box paralyzes me. I must not let them see that i am not always so strong. i "feel"... i cry... i see the weaknesses that hold me down in my box so tight.

i am human...yes we are only human.
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Published by Meggs: 2:00 AM


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