diana (me) -- this website's owner/operator; 15/f


patsy -- poet and dreamer; 16/f


meredith -- humorist and saint; 16/f


him -- hunter and listener; 16/m


'fred' -- counselor and taxi; 17/m




23:45;   I was inspired by a site about payphones (link brought to you by the letter "S" for "Swirlee") that Patsy and I are on a mission. Patsy has a total of $5.36 in change (and a 30-minute phonecard) and we're going to track down a few local payphones and make a few calls. I'll tell you how it goes tomorrow.

16:34;   But I'm right here, right now...
She is in Michigan. Minnesota. Some "M" state. She's coming back on Saturday. He's still out of town, but will be returning tomorrow. He has yet to give me a call, which is causing yours truly to be panicky. So all that is left is Patsy and myself. And Ex.
Oh, Ex. How we all wish we didn't have Ex. But, alas, it was my (idiotic) choice to date him a year ago. And so we make sure that he knows that it was a bad idea to dump me for religious purposes. And for a cheerleader. Believe me, he's suffering.
Last night, I sent him the lyrics to the song that was in my head, which was REM's "Everybody Hurts", through AOL IM. Innocent enough, right? Hell no. Ex starts warning me on AOL IM and acting like a madman, saying that I was "trying to annoy" him and that he "never asked" for the lyrics, so I had no right to tell him everbody hurts. Jesus. So we getting into this heated argument, and then I admit it: "I still love you. Not nearly as much as I used to, but it's still in there." Bam! Bad idea, Diana. He starts saying that he had no idea that I was feeling "as intensely as that". Which isn't intense at all -- it's just to say it and get it out of my head. I haven't talked to him since. But I at least suceeded in making him feel very bad for it all. Go me, go me.
I did some research today on packaging, since I am sending someone a tacky postcard on Monday. To send a card via UPS is $32.50. To send it regular mailing is 55 cents. Gee, wonder which I'll go with. The only thing is that UPS has a tracking thing, and I want it to make it over there with few problems. I mean, the card only says a sentence or two on it. But I guess that's how postcards are.
My mother bought my younger brother a Big Mouth Billy Bass. It's staring at me right now. It's eerie. That was my younger brother's gift from my parents. Mine has yet to be done. It is either a facial or massage. I've had lots of facials, and yet never had a massage. I'm probably going to go get the massage, because I feel that I really need to loosen up. But my face is breaking out, so it might be good to do that, too. I don't know. I'm very ticklish all over, so it's being debated.
I haven't watched "Saturday Night Live" in awhile. If it was a decent show, then I'd watch it. But, alas, neither musical guest DMX or host Julianna Margulies amuse me. Whatever happened to that MTV show with the heads? "Head Trip", I think. That was an awesome show. That, and "Sifl and Ollie." Or "Olly". Whichever. There were lots of really good shows on MTV that they decided weren't good enough to stay on... and yet I wonder why "Real World" and "Road Rules" are still going. Or "Undressed", for that matter.

09:22;   I love you.


16:36;   I've been hearing about this Tyra Banks movie called Coyote Ugly. As far as I could tell from the ads I've seen, it's about these five girls who have a bar (or something) and dance around in skimpy leather outfits. From what I read on the official website, I was pretty much right. Basically, this one girl goes to NYC to be a songwriter and ends up being a barmaid at a bar called... Coyote Ugly, I guess. How fascinating. It's considered a "romantic comedy". Don't ask how.
I've been listening to Bon Jovi's live version (I guess) of "It's My Life". It's not that bad of a song, I guess. I don't remember much of Bon Jovi's earlier stuff. I just remember everyone talking about "this great singer named Jon Bon Jovi". Or perhaps it's how his name rolls off my tongue that makes me like it all. But I just like the bass sounds of the song that go "woh, woh" or something. It's one of those things that you have to listen carefully for, I guess.
I recently scanned a really bad piece of artwork of mine. I mean, the art's good, but the coloring and view of the piece is unclear... well, view for yourself. It's a computer chaired that I spraypainted Army cammoflauge (I spelt that wrong, I know.) and did a swirl on the seat part, and added twigs that stick out the back of it. It's my favorite piece, actually, and the only 3d that I ever did that I am not afraid to hide. It's called "Refugee" and I did it last year, or perhaps earlier. There's probably a date on it somewhere. I have yet to look for it. As soon as my old art teacher returns some of my artwork from a show then I'll probably scan some flat pieces that I like. Nothing that I'd regret showing. Heh.

11:18;   He left this morning. Called me before he left. He'll be back on Sunday. For some odd reason, I don't miss him as much as I thought I would. I mean, yea, I miss him. But it's not like I'm crying over the fact that he's not at home or anything. Maybe because He finally showed up last night for a few hours... I don't know. (His mom called me and said that she was sorry for the mishap earlier and that he'd be able to come over for a few hours. He stayed til 9:45, and we spent the last few minutes looking at this beautiful lightning that was presumably miles away.) He has a calling card, even though he's not going out of the area code. He said He'd call me tonight and tomorrow night-- which, of course, are the two days that he's gone. I'm going to try to work on reading my books for summer vacation over the weekend, just to get them out of the way. The first book I want to get over with is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, because I couldn't find any extra references on it (besides a tacky black-and-white movie) and it's thicker. I don't know. I hope to at least start on it.
A fellow named John sent me an email yesterday about what I said about my lack of visitors. I re-think it and I still feel as if visitors have lacked since my appearances in anybody's "blogs". But people still visit through Blogger's "recently updated" panel, and this place is listed in a few sidebars of very talented writers' websites. So, hey, maybe I am getting somewhere. This whole "blog" thing is a popularity contest, in a way. Everyone wants people to explore their lives and visit their links and gain the idea of people knowing they exist and get listed on "blogs I visit" panels and go to South By Southwest and fit in. Maybe I'm one of them. Maybe I'm not. Hell, I'm fifteen. Popularity seems to hit me a bit hard, I guess. I don't know. But, anyway, John... thanks.
Ex has decided that he doesn't want to talk to me online anymore. So what does Ex do? Ex decides to block my screen-name from his AOL account. Swell move, boy. So what do I do? I bring out my backup screen-name and watch him sit there like an ugly duckling online. If you want to bug him, go right ahead. Just email me for his screen-name. I'll try to figure out more about Ex's other screen-names and gain access to those. I'm trying here.
I had this weird dream last night. I had dreamt that I downloaded that new Internet Explorer and it changed everything around me. Like, my house looked different and all. I really have got to stop getting on this computer.


14:53;   Read me my rights and tell me I am wrong...
What did I ever do to His mother to have her start to hate me again? I mean, the lady hates me one instant and the next wants me over for a barbeque. He's going out of town on Friday. Tomorrow. For three days. When we didn't talk for three days before, we both were making death threats. He was supposed to visit me today so we can have lunch somewhere. But a half-hour before He is expected at my front door, I get the phone call. He says it simply, "Listen, babe, I can't do it. She won't let me. I'll talk to you later." I only say an "OK" and "bye" before slamming the phone down and going into a screaming frenzy. Which lasts for a minute or two before I go deafly silent. I've been like that pretty much since. It's not that He's not visiting me. No, that's happened way too many times before to get angry at anymore. It's not that He's let me down again. That has also happened a lot before, more and more lately. It's that His mother decides to cancel everything thirty damn minutes before it occurs. It gives me a headache.
Oh, yeah, forgot. I'm supposed to be in the "happy teenage 2000 club kid blogger" and give out links to things that no one will visit because no one really visits this page much anymore. Believe me, I've been looking at the numbers. What is today, Thursday? Oh yeah, Thursday. This week there have been 77 visits. It's 2 hours past noon, and there have been 3 visitors today. Two have been mine, one has been Patsy. I wonder why the hell I have a blog anymore, anyway. Maybe just to do some easy revamps and express myself daily, just like hundreds and hundreds of others do. Then you have to ask, "Why do you do this, anyway, if you diss it?" I should explain that I can't end anything easily. I can't end relationships, I can't end (or begin lately, for that matter) stories I write, I can't end anything without a huge trace of guilt for giving up. I continue this because it keeps me connected. I like blogs. I read up to 20 or 30 different ones every day. I'm fascinated by design, hence my constantly-changing designs on here of different things. I don't know why I have a blog. But, then again, I don't know why other peopel don't have one themselves.
By the way, today's lyric (at the top of this post) is "Jinx" by Green Day, courtesy of Patsy. I never heard the song.


21:47;   I want to, I want to be someone else or I'll explode...
My day was actually OK. I went around on errands with Him, His mom, His grandmother, and His two brothers. It was OK, I guess. I mean, we basically got hot dog buns and some checks cashed in. Which is pretty good, I guess.
There was this one instant that scared me, though. I was waiting for Him and His brothers to come out of a store, so I was outside. This guy comes up to me and starts a conversation. I swear, it was just freaky to me because he was getting all personal and all. Well, not personal. Just asking me my name (Which I told my first name, I'm not an idiot), my age (I said "teenager", which made him start asking "17? 16?" so I gave into that one) and the fact that I lived where I lived. Which doesn't really narrow it down much you know? When He and His brothers came out, they mentioned that they saw the guy before and that this weird guy sat down with them while they were eating at McDonald's and just kind of started conversation. Which would freak me out, too, I guess. He's going out of town this weekend, by the way. Upstate until Monday. Lucky him. And to think that our last moments of (clearly) seeing each other were when we were searching for goggles in WalMart.
She and Patsy spent the night last night, too. We watched a few good movies most of the evening, and dozed off around 2 or 3, I guess. This one instant, however, just sticks out in my mind. Patsy and I were on the downstairs couch, and She was in the room next door. I was just saying things like, "Dude, my dad goes to work at 3 or 4 and he'll freak out if we're awake!" So we started hearing these sounds like people moving around upstairs, so we suddenly turned off the TV (It was Sting's "Desert Rose", anyway. Nothing major.) and zoomed into the bedroom. Turns out, She was constantly banging the wall during her mid-sleep.


12:02;   My last ex-boyfriend has a new girlfriend named Elizabeth. He described her as "really sweet, has a reasonable personality" and "a sense of humor and she is the best kisser." He also mentioned that he is "going to regret telling" me because I tend to "gossip" about him. Humorously enough, Patsy was told only minutes before I was about my ex's new madam. So it wouldn't be considered gossiping if I mentioned to a few people online who can care less, if he's mentioning it to two people (ie, Patsy and myself) who don't really enjoy him anyway. It's just kind of bothering me that he said that she was "the best kisser". I mean, what other comparison did he have, besides me? And that was over a year ago, anyway. Call it jealousy, if you want to. It just bothers me. But Patsy and I think that Ex (the guy's new name) is making this all up just to get our attention. Hell, I'm writing about it. It got my attention.
My older brother owns Eminem's Slim Shady EP. There's this song on the album called "Just the Two of Us" with lyrics containing things about slitting his wife's throat and throwing her body, along with the evidence, into the ocean. The cover of Slim Shady LP further explains the situation. And everyone still wonders why in the hell Kim Mathers attempted suicide. Yeah, if I had a song like that written about me, I'd do crazy things, too.
The news I delivered a few days ago about Britney Spears marrying Justin Timberlake of N Sync was false. Turns out, Britney and Justin are "just friends", and Britney really has her heart set on "being a princess." And while I'm link-happy and talking about music and England, I should mention about Liam Gallagher separating from his wife. I personally thought Liam and his wife were a cute couple. But cuteness only goes so far, I guess.
And, on a final note, this is the best piece of writing I have read from suck.com in awhile-- or, perhaps, had the patience to fully read.


16:40;   I decided to add two other "blogs" that I visit frequently to my sidebar over there. In return, I took two away. I feel guilty for taking two away, but I don't know. I still visit the blogs themselves. I just don't know why I don't do it.
I appologize for my lack of updates lately. I've been doing bits and pieces of things lately. Namely, trying to get into the "Big Brother" website, hanging around the Yahoo! news arena, and trying to figure out why my Napster avoids playing "Sometimes" by Britney Spears. Nothing poetic is going on in my life right now. Or maybe it is. It depends on what you call "poetic." Yes, there are small things going on in my life... but nothing that anyone besides myself would be interested in figuring out.
I have decided on a Rocky Horror 2000 cast. I now look back at that entry and think, "That was stupid, Diana." So I decided not to share my cast with you. Nyuh, nyuh. You'll probably be so depressed over this one. In other movie-related news, I rented Pleasantville and Reality Bites. I've seen Pleasantville once before. Rented Reality Bites before, but never watched it. Their copy of Clue was damaged. Go figure.


09:58;   Good morning.
Interestingly enough, no one (as far as I know) has mentioned about the figment of news that I picked up yesterday... yes, folks, you heard it here first. I think.
I watched Rocky Horror Picture Show yesterday on VH1. I was thinking about a remake of the movie with the "hip" singers we have today as the leading roles of Brad, Janet, Dr Frank N Furter, etc. I was curious about everyone's opinions on who would be who. Send in your vote to me, if you want to. I'll give out my list tomorrow, I guess.

April, April, Chad, Ernie, Evan, Firda, Fred, Grace, Heather, Jack, Jason, Jerwin, Jessica, Jish, Liz, Matt, Meg, Mike, Neale, Nikolai, Patti, Tom, Tom
webloggers / blogger

01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 21; home