31 October 2001

You want to know what Hellfest was like? You want to know what it is? To see the community that exists between the hardcore kids? Fucking check this out.

It's two and I've got two hours left here, stay strong. Then I need to go home, fucking eat something(I was doing so well with the whole 'eating healthy' bit), make myself into a box, and then get back down to campus. Maybe Johnny will drive down here, or Brad. That would make me very happy. I don't want to ride the T dressed as a box.

30 October 2001

Last night I got to talk with Johnny a little bit. That was good. I know he's hurting a lot, but he won't talk about it and I can't help him if he doesn't talk about it. I don't know...

Cancer Conspiracy plays tonight! Nine o'clock! I leave to start the voyage to Santa Sangre land in T minus two days. I am quite excited. There was a shooting at Northeastern about an hour ago. Just in time for it to make it in the new issue of the NU News. Speaking of which, I ned to write the "in case I die directions." I have some of them planned out in my head and I must say, if I do die, my friends will be laughing.

It's really odd here. Wherever I go I seem to be the one-man-out. Go to work, well, like there was really a question there. These kids have been together for awhile and I'm just going to be "the new kid" the whole time I am here. I mean, it's not like they're having a rocking party or anything and I sit here and writing musings on this free website, but there is a dynamic between them that isn't between myself and any of them. Then I go home. I am the only girl (harder at some times than others) and also the only person that is really there. I know most of what is being said and can guess what is being thought some of the time. They know a lot about me, yes, but there is still a lot I can not let go of. A lot of my personality that I consider mine. Hell, even giving out this URL was a huge step for me and only seven people have it, including myself. LoL, and a few of them lost it so I am even safer. There's just a lot that I think about that I don't make public for various reasons. Mostly because I am scared. Yeah, I'm a fucking wus. What's it to you?

29 October 2001

So there was a weekend, and it came and went. Fun. I slept a little, that was nice. I took care of Corrupt. He's a cute little dog. He loves Brad. Brad was fucking with him and playing with him on Saturday and he was loving it. It was cute. I took his little Kong and broke up some dog buscuits into it for him to play with because when you leave a dog alone it's good to give him something to do. My puppy just sleeps a lot when we're not there, he gets so lonely when everyone's gone that he'll just sleep and hope that when he wakes up we'll be back. It's cute, but at the same time very sad. I miss Bandit. I know he's happier at home because he has his lot there and everything, but I still wish I could have him up here every once in awhile. He's such a good dog too... Yeah, I miss my dog.
I found out Ronnie had his Halloween party last weekend. Aww, I would have liked to have been there. I bet Donnie came down for it and the whole crew was together. It's funny, I never thought of myself as a Syracuse kid until I left, now I see how attached I am to the god forsaken place. Hell, I love it now. Every time I leave I can't wait to go back. I'm come to find out that it's not a bad place once you don't ahve to hang out with your family. In fact, it's pretty fucking cool. Avoid the family and the mall (mall can be visited maybe once a month or so) and it's a really cool place. Marshall Street is awesome and Armory Square, well, can't get much better can you? Yeah, I like Syracuse a lot and I can see now how it has had such a strong influence over my life. It's funny like that. I can say that I am happy with it, though. I'm happy that I saw a lot more than the other kids did because when I left, and even now, I'm not as naive as I could ahve been. I've sen drugs and their effects on people; I've known people that killed themselves and others who tried; I know people "on the other side of the tracks" and what they're all about; I've seen some of the craziest parties ever and some of the shittiest ones. And I've seen shitty parties turn into crazy ones. I haven't seen it all, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I think I'm a little ahead of the game. LoL, afterall, when I was seventeen I was talking dirty to thirty year old guys over the phone and then going out drinking with them (RonBrush and Donnie). Not too shabby.

26 October 2001

Well, I got my bus tickets yesterday. Highlight of my day. Cancer Conspiracy plays the Middle East next Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Next Friday baby, big day. I can't even believe that this is happening. No one sees shows this good in a row. Cancer Conspiracy three times (well, maybe I'll be really dedicated to NUHOC and skip the one on Wednesday, hehehe, no I won't It starts at 9 p.m. anyway) and then moving on, go directly to see Santa Sangre first time. Whew, calm down. Deep breath on the bus. Only to see Santa Sangre again less than 24 hours and a couple hundred miles later. I said it before, but I shall say it again. Yeah, I'm just a little fucking excited!

25 October 2001

Alison showed up to Big City last night and I am sorry, but I refuse to baby that girl. I'll listen for a little bit, but I'm not babying her. I can't. I consider myself a fairly patient person, I've trained employees before and that's always hard an frustrating because they never listen, unless it is Jason and Lucas. They listened. The other kids never did. But I trained almost everyone that is working at the Garden right now and numerous employees that have worked there beforehand. Some of them, too, I will, say, I did a fucking fantastic job. But with Alison, no. I refuse to kiss someone's ass just because they build up in their head that they have the worst life ever. Yeah, sucks that you had the cash and the ability to go to a pretty good school huh? Sucks that you're making nice cash at work and you're doing what you wanted to do? Sucks that Keith broke up with you? Okay, maybe. But you had it coming, treating him like dog shit for the entire time that I've ever been around. Hit on Kevin's roommate one weekend, Sam on the other, and admit that you flirt with tons of guys, and yet you want this kid to stick around? No. Be realistic. And now you're upset because you dug your own grave? If you want some pity or anything along those lines it isn't going to come from here. I'll feel compassion because, yes, it was a long relationship and all, but that's it. I will feel compassion because she is in pain, but I draw the line right there. If I took a shotgun and blew up my left hand and then asked for you to pity me and listen to my problems - I can't open a jar of pickles without my left hand - would I expect people to sit and listen to me bitch? No. I did it to myself. I deserve it. I don't care if it sounds harsh, it is, but if someone has a problem I think it is their job to alieviate it. Well, up to a point. If someone gets cancer, then there should be some help on the way, but if someone gets a cold, it's their deal. That's what the kid gets for staying up late smoking and getting fucked up for two weeks. It was bound to happen.
If she wants me to listen for a little bit, I'll listen, but don't throw all that depression bullshit at me. Depression exists, yes. I know this quite well. But I also believe that one of the best ways to get over it isn't by sitting around talking to a shrink and going home and feeling sorry for yourself. You want things to change? Change them. Don't know how? Well, it looks like you've got something to think about then. It drives me crazy when people treat others like shit, that person finally gets the balls to dumb the other, and then the other goes into the "I-want-you-back" mode because he/she feels as though he/she has no identity outside "[NAME}'s girl/boyfriend." Get a peronality of your own. You're going to like the color blue because he does? Oh, well that's really cool. You're going to listen to Sixpence None the Richer because she does? Pathetic. This is all coming from someone who does have a god awful track record when it comes to the opposite sex, but still. At least I refuse to change myself to fit someone else's mold. I want a hardcore kid that can deal with emo, dresses fairly well (which, by my standards, isn't hard at all), listens to good music, and can engage in a good conversation. If I found this kid, but in reality he was just bullshitting the whole time because he was too scared to speak his opinions, I'd get rid of him. If I want someone to conform to my ideals I already know where to look. That's the last person I would want, though, and I will never settle for that.

24 October 2001

Well I got thrown out of my first Boston bar tonight and I have to say, I am not the least bit upset. They took Regina away, but that is really only a good thing because I never really wanted her anyway. The fact of the matter is, I don't really need or want an I.D. here because I have no desire to go to the bars. I'll go to Our House because Brad works there, but otherwise, whatever. The bars here just aren't as fun or as happy as the ones back home. There are no familiar faces behind the bars. The people here are colder. They don't really smile. There is no Scott Dixon and definitely no hippie bartender that shops in mmy store and puts on a show, tossing around bottles on fire just for me. That is what I want when I go to a bar. I want someone that knows my drinks of choice and smiles and hugs me at the door. I don't want people that are constantly watching me because I am the doe-faced underage girl. That ruins my good time. So yeah, Regina is gone and my roommates may be upset because I don't have a fake now - as shitty as it might have been - but I'm not. In fact, I feel much more comfortable now and much more like myself. I have no need, from now on, to pretend that I am someone that I am not. That is a good feeling.

Well last night we all had a pretty good time. Well, that's not entirely true. It seemed as though we went out because we felt like we should, not because we wanted to. That'sm really why I went out. Brad's working down the street and I wanted to show my support to him by stopping in and seeing him. Back home it was only my best friends that would come visit me at work so I want to be a good friend to him and stop by. I hardly ever get to see him now.
Yeah, so it wasn't too much fun. We didn't go out and havea good time, we went out and we talked about things, but at the same time everything was all cryptic. People used other people's situations as metaphors for their own and sought approval. There are just a couple of things that are occurring around me right now that don't just bother me, they enrage me. I see my friends hurting themselves and each other. There is nothing I can do, though. If I brought their self-destructive behavior to their attentions, they would simply deny it--as they are now--and hate me. So instead I say nothing and it tears me apart every day. I find it hard to sit out and be social because I just see people hurting themselves. I see the facade that is built up around them, but it is no wall. It is a curtain of cellophane. The wind blows and the pieces begin to seperate. You take a step and the pieces open up. Not even a good facade. Oh it fucking kills me. I want to take these people aside and shake them. Scream at them. Brad told me once that he loved Suzanne so much that her happiness came before everything. That sounds about right to me. Last year, my suitemate's boyfriend broke up with her because he was interested in another girl. She spent hours upon hours on the phone screaming and crying, telling him that he would never do as good as her again and that he needed her. She didn't put his happiness above her own. That leads me to believe that she doesn't really love him, she just thinks so. I don't know, by watching things laetly, I don't think that everyone out there will fall in love. I think there is a certain degree of luck involved with it. There are a lot of people out there that just can't put others above themselves. Conversely, though, there are also people out there that always put others before themselves and they're in for a world of hurting as well. Just because they can so that for someone else does not mean that they are in love with them... I'm going to stop this thread right now, though, because at the moment the topic of love really pisses me off.

Little At the Drive-In to wipe the slate clean. My pictures are ready in two hours and I can go get them. Sweet. Last night Mikey and I were talking about attractive people in NUHOC. It was funny to come to the realization that there are very few good boys in NUHOC. I don't know a lot of the freshmen so I guess there is some potential there, but other than that there is very little. It's quite funny. I wasn't going to tell him at the time, but he was right on when he picked out the only two guys I would go for in NUHOC now. There's Matthew and there's Tom (still in NUHOC, just not in Boston). Matthew is really cool and absolutely hysterical, but he smokes a lot of weed and I don't know, I don't want someone like that. Don't give a shit if you do it, but that's negative points right there (as Mikey would say) on the potential scale. Stoned kids are fun to laugh at a lot of the time, but they also get pretty fucking annoying and it's easier to leave and be a bitch and antisocial when it's your roommates who are stoned than your boyfriend. Tom is just fucking cool. Tom's awesome and I like him a lot, but at the same time, there are a lot of things I don't know about him and I would want to hang out with him a lot more before I thought about anything there. Yeah, but it was funny, Mikey was right on it last night. I think I even let a little chuckle out when he named those two guys. ...Kind of funny. I might be able to get away with bringing Tom to a hardcore show, but Matthew would never be down. It would be hysterical to dress him up all "emo" though and take him. He would hate it, though. (I just spent a little less than an hour looking for a god, stereotypical shot of an emo boy, but there are none. I want the short-haired, dark blue jeans, chain wallet, studded belt, rubber bracelets, chain necklace, button-down shirt too small for me, black clunky boots wearing emo kid. Can't find a picture of one. Sorry.)

23 October 2001

I got an email from Jason today. I can hear him reading the words to me, It feels as though he is that close when I read it. It feels good to hear from him as he is a friend, but it also feels wonderful to hear from him to begin with. When I read his words I can see his smile and hear his laugh. Does that sound absolutely ridiculous? Maybe so. Hell, probably rightfully so, but I don't care. I miss him. Just seeing his smile was enough to make me smile. I really hope he goes to Boston College next September. That would be amazing. Awww, I can't even think about that without smiling, it makes me that happy. The only thing that could make next year cooller would be if Josh were here as well. If I had to make a choice I would bring my Josh here first, but right behind him would be Jason. He's a smart boy, he's got to get into Boston College. Time to focus now, though. There are tasks at hand. Not really.

I just don't feel like doing anything today. They gave me this stupid thing to do, but I'm judt not even going to do that. It's lame. It'll get done, but not today and probably not tomorrow. They never even asked me for the other things I was supposed to be working on. I wish I had an advanced HTML book here or something so then even though everything else sucked I could still ahve some fun. Or even better, I could actually install programs on this computer so I could play in Photoshop and make cool graphics - or even shitty graphics - for this thing. Yeah, I suppose all of that is just if the world was a perfect place. Deep sigh. But PMA - Positive Mental Attitude. At least two weekends from now is going to be fucking cool and I did get an email from Jason today. And my film is going to be developed tomorrow (maybe..?) so I can see how the pictures from Hellfest 2001 - Another Victim came out and my pictures of Jason. The Jason ones are going on the wall. lol.

22 October 2001

Not too much to say. I am worried about my roommate Johnny. I am worried about myself and what will become of me in a few weekends. I have never done anything this independent before and this liberating. I am somewhat concerned about the playful musings that play in the field of my mind late at night. For two nights in a row I have had romantic musings concerning one Kevin Passerell. That is no good. When I see him I do not want to have these thoughts in my head. That would be dreadful. I want to be at home within myself and have no lingering thoughts other than my devotion to the band as a whole. I could and probably am blowing this whole thing out of proportion. I hope so. I enjoy dreams where I get to make out with cute hardcore boys and all and fall in love with them and live happily ever after, but it doesn't seem like a good mindset to have before going down and seeing these people. Nothing will happen and I know this. I don't want something stupid to taint this and an improbable and daft expectation, no matter how outlandish, could possibly do so. So fuck that. Fuck my mind and fuck sleeping and dreaming. It should be time, instead, to focus on preparing, mentally, for this trip. Lonliness, fear, weakness, hunger, and thirst. Yes... It will still be a great trip, though. Self-dicipline baby!

21 October 2001

I had disturbing dreams last night. The one redeeming feauture of them (I suppose you could say it was a feature... perhaps a part?)was when I woke up at one point and reflected happily on the adventure that lies in store for me in the near future. I can't wait to go see Santa Sangre play. I can not wait to see the smiles on their faces when I show up. I don't think they know I am going to both shows. It will be great. The best part of the dream, though, here is the girl in me, as Theresa would say, was that I mused that I had gotten a ride with the band and I sat in the back talking with Kevin and we ended up getting together. Not a one night stand thing or anything, but something real. That won't happen, but it was the only redeeming part of the dream. lol, I dreamed that someone wanted me. Yeah, some things can only be dreamt. Other than that, the rest of my dreams last night were really disturbing. I blame it on the presence of my family in Boston.

18 October 2001

Yeah, so I went home sick from work yesterday because I threw up in the bathroom. I was actually prety proud of myself because I made it to the bathroom and that was just something I didn't think was going to happen. It took all my mental capacity to keep myslef calm. Then I saw the toilet and everything errupted. I didn't know I still had that much in my system because I threw up the night before as well. Most of it was water yesterday, but there was still some food or something in there. That's probably enough detail for me, though. I saw it, I'd rather forget it... it is important to have a sense of humor about things like this though, so I will still laugh at it. It is pretty funny when you throw up at work.

As sad and pathetic as it may sound, I am still riding high on the fact that Jonathan Buske actually replied to my email and was so nice. It sounds dumb, but whatever. His musical ventures in Another Victim, Santa Sangre, and True Love mean so much to me that it is nice to see that he is >maybe< going to be nice to me face to face. All of Another Victim have had such an incredible affect on the way I think and act. It isn't brainwashing, it's a liberation of the mind.
I could not comprehend certain things existed until I heard that band. I saw these fucking hardcore guys onstage playing their hearts out and even though they were huge, and guys, and looked all tough, they played songs about the liberation of women. What? I was almost confused. I culdn't get it around my head that these guys were telling me to stand up for myself and fight against sexism with them. Guys didn't fight for that. Hell, I'm a girl and I don't fight for it. Another Victim opened up my eyes to what was going on around me. Another Victim was the kids' band. When I saw them I didn't feel alone anymore. I didn't know the kids around me, but they weren't even there. Seeing Another Victim was like seeing a band in your basement. Every word out of Andy's mouth was directed at you. He challeged you and he supported you. The band was playing for you. The chunky hardcore parts were in there to make you smile and mosh. Another Victim loved you. Another Victim allowed me a short escape from the harsh realities that I was living with. Jonathan (Dennison) didn't care what my parents thought of me or their plans for me. He was happy to see me and wanted to know if I enjoyed the show. Did I get hurt at all? No? Good. He was almost like an older brother figure, except he probably knows that I adore him. Chuck probably told him, although maybe not. It's pretty obvious, though. I get the starry eyed look while at the same time I avoid making eye contact. None of that matters to him, though. He just wants me to be okay. Even stranger, Jonathan is a pretty big guy. If he wanted to he could fuck some people up. Yet, I can't picture him ever harming a soul. I think he'd be one of those really cool guys that would just walk away from a fight and know inside that doing so is more honorable than using his fists.
I don't know. I am definitely rambling now, but those guys just made so many things clearer for me. When I found hardcore, I found a haven. There were people out there that understood abuse, anger, and confusion. My peers were not in school with me, they were faceless voices on CDs and records. I guess the thing that hurt, to bring this all the way back to where it started from, was the fact that the one person that did so much for me would not accept my thanks. I felt (and still do sometimes) that I was letting the scene down. When you let the scene down, you hurt all the hardcore kids. Sometimes I wonder if there is more I can do to help the hardcore bands... I don't know.

Okay, things are falling into place for this fucked up journey. The few details I know will be here.

17 October 2001

I am so torn with so many thoughts in my mind. I went out and had a good time, drank a little more than a little bit. Feelin' it today. My body is like, Oh you little bastard. My doorman wasn't working, but Brad was in good spirits, which was nice.

16 October 2001

Well, I am doing my usual bout of nothing today. It was nice, though, I got here and checked my email, and I got an email from one Kevin Connors. Kevin got wasted last night and wrote some tunes so that'll be cool to check out. He and Ryan are really talented.
It's odd the way things change and how quickly they can do so. Sometimes, I feel guity that I am not as close to my high school friends as I am to the kids here or my bosses back home. I mean, I haven't visited any of my friends at school and now I am planning on taking a trip to North Carolina for one day to see Santa Sangre play and support them. I wonder if this makes me a bad person? I don't really know. I still care for those kids and I will always do anything I can for them. Even for Ray, and he's a bastard that never calls me back and fuckin sends me harrassing emails. If he needed some help, though, I'd help him. But I am not going to bend over backwards to see him and stay in contact with him. I don't miss him. That's kind of how I feel. We've all grown apart. Or at least I think I have grown apart from them or vice versa. They went away to school and discovered alcohol. I went away from school and found myself longing for the straight edge kids. They came home and discovered Armory Square, I came home and immersed myself into work and tried to go to as many shows as possible. I don't know...I don't even like thinking about it because I am so at war with myself as far as the straight edge lifestyle is concerned. I defintiely respect those kids, I respect and admire them, but I am torn as far as the way my personal actions should be. I also just read an interview with Karl Buechner (frontman of Earth Crisis) so my mind is even more fuddled. I really can't think about this anymore, the confusion makes me uneasy.

15 October 2001

I went back to Syracuse this weekend. For about another 27 hours. This time wasn't nearly as fun as the last time. I went home to surprise my parents, I suppose that was nice of me, but I made it clear to my mother that the reason I was home was to see them, but to, first and foremost, see a show on Wednesday. They could ahve me Sarturday, but Sunday was my time to play. Well, of course you know what is coming next. That's right, didn't see the show. I showed up and had completely missed Santa Sangre and I only got to see ONE Throwdown song. It fucking blew. I spent a shit load of money to go home and see one song. That sucks. I was less than pleased. So I might be following Santa Sangre on the road for one of their shows. I have been checking out bus fares and hotel prices and how far I would have to walk. Of course, where they are playing, there are no youth hostels. That would be too easy. I am trying to figure out a way that I could go and not stay some place and still be able to bring a small backpack along with me. Maybe I could do some form of makeshift camping out there or something. I really don;t want to have to drop a hundred bucks on a bus ticket and then have to spend another sixty or seventy bucks on a hotel. That would suck. I would go and just sleep on the street, but I know if I am taking a twenty hour bus ride I am going to want some CDs and shit with me so that's out of the question as well. I shall go up to the Lodge soon and do some hardcore training for hoisting my stuff up into trees, away from bears and other people. If this trip happens it could likely break me. There are a hundred things that could go wrong. I am scared, but at the same time, I want to be strong.
Going back to Syracuse and just being at the show for the very small amount of time I was there, I was both proud and ashamed. I saw Chuck for a second, not even long enough to say hello to him, although he pinched my stomach as a form of hello as he ran by. He stood on the stage as Throwdown came out. The first song had a kickass chorus that consisted of the word "Unity." Kids were crawling all over one another and getting crazy. It was beautiful. Chuck stood at the far right side of the stage, arms crossed, with a massive smile on his face. I knew why he was smiling. It wasn't the band. It was the kids. The place was packed and it served as a beacon for anyone that dared to say hardcore was dying in Syracuse. Hundreds of tattooed and pierced kids were there rocking out with their messanger bags, pins, Rivers Cuomo glasses, and just-tight-enough pants. I know Chuck was elated that there was such a turn out. Hardcore would remain a name in the 315 for a bit longer if these younger kids can continue to support their bands.
At odds with the ecstasy I feel knowing that hardcore is alive and well in Syracuse is the fear that I might somehow be a disgrace to the very thing that has shaped and influenced the way I hve grown up. If it was not for hardcore music, I don't know what would have happened to me. I was so confused and depressed for so long I might have finally committed the inevitable. I honestly don't know. Things were really bad for awhile back home and I was young and had no outlet for my anger. None of my friends understood. They couldn't relate to the rage and pain I felt inside. Then Joey introduced me to something that would change my life. I found people that actually believed in things. I found people that didn't laugh at me when I said I wanted to be vegetarian. Instead, they nodded approvingly. A music with raw emotion was one of the binding things between these kids. I attached myself to it. I couldn't get enough. I watched as the kids danced and became a part of something greater than themselves. When they were out there in the pit, they were the 315 Hardcore Movement. The "alumni" of this group extended their hands to me and helped me sort some things out in my head. They picked me up when I fell and never laughed at me when I made my mistakes. They would lead me, but still make me forge the way myself. There is no giving. One of the best parts about the hardcore scene is that you work for it. You go to shows, support the bands, choose your favorites and help them. Every time he thinks I am falling into a stereotype, Chuck Hickey challenges me and questions my motives. He is four steps ahead of me. One day I am going to wake up and the only thing I will have will be my beliefs and convictions. If they are not mine and I adopt them just because the other kids are, then I will wake up empty. There will be nothing there. So whenever he can, Chuck makes sure that I am making the decisions I do because it is what I want and not what I feel I should be doing.
At the same time, especially in the hardcore community, it is difficult if you have different beliefs than the other kids. If I don't share their beliefs, can the music still move me? Am I a hypocrite if I sing along to the songs glorifying the straight-edge movement? I respect the movement wholeheartedly, it's just not the thing for me right now. I left the show, and Syracuse, questioning myself in a sea of doubt. I am a little better today. I don't feel guilty listening to my Earth Crisis CDs and knowing that I smoke and drink. Some of the kids are really open-minded and I know it doesn't matter to them. It doesn't matter to me when I am around them. Like Chuck. But I think some kids are really put off by it and that hurts. I don't know. The more I think about it right now, the more depressed I get. I need to get out to a show. See the unity and the love between the kids. Ten minutes of that isn't nearly enough. It whet my appetite and now I long for it. I know what I am missing out on now.

12 October

Well, I am here again. Geocities was sketchy for a couple of days so I was unable to play with this. I would complain, but it is a free service, so you can't really bitch. Well, maybe you can, but I would feel bad doing so. Today my amusement has consisted of listening to CDs, writing emails, playin on IM, and reading away messages. Dudi's are always funny because he gives a new sex tip every day. True, he has had enough to be a mountain of knowledge, but it's still weird to be leaving that as an away message. Whatever. I won't say I don't enjoy it, because I do. They're pretty funny. A lot of them are things I would never do. He has this thing with telling people to be ballsy and randomly kiss people and "girls, initiate something" and I can't do that. I'm too shy. The only time I can initiate anything is when I'm drunk becaue the alcohol quells the fear. Last year the thing with Punk John was mutual I suppose. I'm the one that kissed him first, but he was the one that told me I wasn't allowed to go back to my room after we came in from a very drunken walk to Store 24. He was funny, though, because he'd tell me what I could and couldn't do and be a bastard about it, but at the same time it was John so it was all to be taken with a grain of salt... Yeah. I've never initiated anything unless I was drunk. Someone called alcohol "liquid courage" once. Sounds about right.

Hey! I just found my friend Mike's email in my wallet. I thought I lost it and could never talk to him again. Sweet!

But yeah, I could never follow Dudi's advice. I just don't have the balls. I'm scared of people, not really things so much. And not the people that look scary. Pierced guys, tattooed kids, homeless kids, whatever. I'm not scared of them. I think they're some of the most approachable people. It's the beautiful people and the people that I am attracted to that I am scared of. People that I know too. They scare me. Some of them, I know them and a lot about them. We sit around and shoot the shit. Might even get a hug hello when I see them, depending on the situation. We share a lot of the same friends. And I am terrified of them. I'm scared of a lot of people. I do have reasons for it, though. A lot of times I do not trust people's motives and that makes me scared of them. It's kind of backwards, though, looking at the big pitcture. Make a kid look like a freak - cut his hair funny, dye it, give him some piercings, tattoos, maybe even a brand or two, and put him in a dress and I'm okay with that. I'll go up and shoot the shit. Make the same guy clean cut and put him in some khakis and an Abercrombie sweater and I am intimidated. Normal kid. Make that kid attractive and sweet, place him in a nice pair of slacks with a shirt and tie and I am no longer scared of him, but I am so intimidated my voice will not work. Yeah. I like reading Dudi's advice but it doesn't help me at all.

5 October 2001

I am going home. It is a late bus, but I am still going home. Brush is picking me up at the bus station at 3:10 a.m. What a guy. That's way past his bedtime too, because he always goes to bed early. Tomorrow I guess I am putting in a few hours at the 'Garden, to reassure everyone that I do, in fact, still work there. It will be good to see the Boys again. I really can't wait. I'm just going to pass out on the bus and then when I wake up I'll be home and it will be stupid giddiness all around. very excited. I was hoping I could get there earlier, even the 5:15 bus would have gotten me there at 12:35, but there's no way I can make that bus. No way in hell. I get out of here at 4 and then have to go home and pack... I guess I can see what time it is after I get done packing. I don't think that will take me long, but it will take me awhile to get home. It always does. Fucking traffic. I'm going home, though. I get to see my friends. I will be able to see their smiles again. It's all right.

3 October 2001

Last night I had so much fun with Kevin and Matthew. I never realized just how hysterical that guy was while he was going out with Devon. I thought he was funny, but last night he was (as Michael Fee would have put it) out of control. He was telling us stories about the crazy shit he did when he was a freshman and sophomore. How he'd get stoned before he went to see judicial affairs to refute the charges that he was smoking up in the dorm. Crazy shit. He was walking around yesterday making all sorts of funny noises and saying the silliest things. I think that is what is so refreshing about Matthew's humor, it's silly. Almost childishly and naively silly. He isn't chilidish or naive, it's just that his humor is so innocent it almost makes him seem that way. It's very engaging.
Kevin and I were sitting on a bench around the nonexistent fire when Kevin said something about eating the tree. I said that I'd do it and he laughed and said he didn't want it to be like the bubbles. I ate a small branch in its entirity. Kevin was making faces and then Matthew came over and started eating some leaves. For a few minutes it was classic, the three of us were just sitting there eating a tree. Great. I have my NUHOC moment of the year already. Last year it was Tom in the tree, this year it's three kids sitting on a bench just munching on a tree. Mikey asked Heather why she never makes fun of me when I do stupid shit like that. It's simple - because when I say it, I make it sound like it's normal. Enough so that I can even convince others to join me. I got people to go swimming in Acadia. I got people to eat trees. I almost got people to drink the bubbles with me. Kevin would have done it if I hadn't immediately thrown up. No matter how dumb the things I do seem, there is enough of an element of sanity behind them that people question laughing at it. It's great.

2 October 2001

I don't really have much to say right now, but I have a half an hour left here at work so I feel the need to do something. To sit back and read Glue seems too brash. SO I sit here and type the little meanderings that enter my head and pretend like they are very important. Hey! Maybe they are (no, they're not...), never know...(yes, you do. They're not). It's fun using hmtl though and pretending this code all forms something very important and offical, as opposed to lines on my shitty little webpage. Just the fact that I do not even hesitate to use vulgarity shows how little I think of htis site. I would never show it to my mother. It is my bathroom wall, though. It is my personal forum. I can talk at myself here and then turn around and see how the things I am saying really come out. I haven't been handing out the addy for this website on purpose. I really doon't want people to see how pathetic is is, but I also want to have the freedom I have with it right now. I can say whatever I want here and I am the only person that will see it. I can say the things here I do not have the audacicity to say to people's faces. Here I can say that I think Jason Rivers is one of the most amazing people I have ever met. I think Brad's friend Steve was really cute. I'm kind of pissed Scott hasn't emailed me back and really upset that Ray has been being such a cocksucker when it comes to calling me back. Yeah, I understand you have pressures Ray, but since I got in Boston you must have had a few hours when you could have hung out. Or at least called. I don't want to sound like a bitchy girlfriend, but I am trying to be your friend. You make it really hard, though. I am very impressed with the way Matt Thornton has actually matured since we graduated high school and I am looking forward to spending time with him this year.
This is my forum. No one really comes here but me. No one really reads this stuff. I write it for myself. I write it to get it all out and lessen my burden. Now, all this is out there. If you actually read this, then congratualtions, you know more about me now that I would have ever been able to tell you. Judge as you will, everyone must, just keep in mind that whatever you think of me and this website, it is just a place for me to carry on a dialogue with myself. You are more than welcome to share your thoughts with me (if anyone actually ventures here). Call me crazy, tell me to fuck off, just be original. Go ahead, try me. I promise I won't cry. Trust.

1 October 2001

I remember going to my first funeral. It was for my Aunt Rose. I had been to one funeral before that, but it hardly counted because my little brother and I hung outside more than inside. At the first funeral/wake, though, we were there up close and personal. I think I got out of school early for it. I was in middle school. That was the year that a lot of people died. I sat at the wake ondering why everyone was so happy. It was like some sort of sick social event. I thought we were supposed to be quiet and stoic. Someone died, afterall. A woman named Dorothy made fun of me for my seriosuness. I resented it. Later, she died. I was at that funeral too. She died due to complications from a form of cancer. I'm not sure what type it was. Her mother threw herself at the body at the wake and started crying. It was something I will never forget. She was okay and then she snapped. She hugged the body in the casket and started crying out to her dead daughter, asking her to come back and that she would join her soon. It was so frightening. A year before the two of them ahd been over at my house for Christmas eve dinner, as they had every year before for as longas I could remember. Dorothy was loud and outspoken, Carrie, her mother, was a quiet, little woman that was just a sweet old woman. All that has changed and yet I still can not formulate this reality in my mind. I am so confused and so wrong right now. So wrong...

I am going home (to the 315) this weekend and I could not be more excited. I have been gone for just short of a month, but it seems like an eternity.

I miss the smiles of the people at the Sound Garden, Brushisms, Joshisms, and Ronnieisms.
I miss being able to add "-imal" as a suffix for any word. Ron-imal. Dan-imal.
I miss the stupid nicknames we had for one another and seeing Josh walk around the store in his state of utter disgust.
I miss the hug from Josh when he came into work and being able to have him hold me whenever I wanted.
I miss being the blunt of crude jokes, seeing Big Gay Al, and being the lab rat for Josh's wrestling moves.
I miss hearing Eric whine about how ska gets "no respect. See this wall, it should just be SKA!"
I miss hearing Michael spout off random phrases concerning his "journey" and listening to Ronnie talk about Jimmy Eat World.

Alex Mueller asked me if anyone ever told me that my Sound Garden stories were like High Fidelity. Fuck off, man. We're not High Fidelity, we're the Sound Garden. Don't compare my reality to some movie you've seen and expect to relate with me. It's insulting. Some of us employees have given that store everything. We've done the double shifts multiple days in a row, even though there is no overtime at the Sound Garden. We've come in early, left late. We've done the midnight release parties and dealt with the irate business people that are positive they're socially above us. I did it and will continue to do it because I love it. I love that store and the people there. (He he he, and even though the Sound Garden has never hooked me up yet, I do like that Jason. He is so damn cute and so fucking cool).
I call and I ask about the store because I do care. I care what happens there. I care what happens all of Armory Square. I was pissed off along with everyone else when the Tusk started getting all sleazy and stupid. Serving shitty beer and putting up fences to seperate the "wine drinkers" from the "beer drinkers." I care about what happens. The Shop is there as is my friend, Walt. I don't want anything to hurt him. Armory High is down there. That place provides jobs for my friends. I would miss Chuck, Scott, and the funny bartender if anything ever made that place close down. I miss the Square. Allston's great and especially a step in the right direction away from Northeastern campus, but I still don't know anyone here. I don't know any of the hardcore kids. The shows are out in Worcester (sp.) and I don't have the means to get home after a late show. I don't know... I don't know most of the hardcore kids back home, but I can at least recognize the faces. Shows are always lonely when there is no one to go with. My high school friends used to "Awww..." when I told them I went to shows alone all the time. I replied by asking them if they would ahve gone. "No, I don't like that music." Okay, then shut up and don't say a word. I don't need the reminder of how alone I am.