I got Spike back from the Shop the other day. He looks better, but my poor baby isn't mechanically better.

I took him for a very long ride though. Cruising along the bay front going 35, went up a huge hill....and rode through the orchard my grandfather and I used to pick cherries. I found a tree that still had the few remaining berries of the season. I could reach them. I silently pouted at my shortness (or shortcomings. [insert sarcasm] Ha! How witty can I get?!) and jumped as high as I could to grab a branch and shake it. Lo and behold, it worked!

I loaded up my glove box with sweet cherries and when I finished....I stood there. The wind blew wisps of my hair across my face and I could hear my child self running and laughing. I looked back to my moped with a saddened look on my face.

"I'm going to put you on medications. Hopefully, this will help you become happy again."

"I know about your razor, Steph....it's in your angel dish on your dresser."

"Dammit Steph! Stop fucking cutting yourself!" "Why?! Why the hell would you fucking care anyway?!" "I'm your god damn boyfriend that's why!"

"I can't be with you anymore, not with Bryan around." "Are you crying?" "I never said this would be easy, Steph...."

Just one quick slit....no one cares anyway. Just a few more...that's all I need.

"Welcome to hell, I mean East Junior High. I'm Stephanie." "I'm Kendall. Thanks for the welcome."

"He loves you Steph, he's just blinded by that slut, what's her name again?" "Erm...Meredith?" "Yeah her." "She's not really a slut..."

"I think I love him." "Who? ....Zavy?!" "Y-yeah. I know it's useless though." "No no! It's sweet...but he has a girlfriend, right?"

"I don't have a date for Farewell either ya know. Do you wanna go with me?"

"So how was everything?!" "Oh my god, it was wonderful! It was the best night of my life!"

"Do you like me?" "Yeah." "Justin?"

"You know there is something better than what we had. You just have to keep searching." "And that makes me want to scream!"

Now to wipe my eyes, take a deep breath....and leave you here.

My parents have kidnapped my moped! I’m so….angry!

I went to work today as usual, and when it was time to come home, (I couldn’t drive my moped into work, it was raining) I called my parents. First off, they were driving MY car! They promised me they would NEVER use my car under any circumstances unless they had my permission when I obtained my level one license. It’s approaching two years that I’ve had it. They take it out a lot, and never ask me. That’s the first thing that bothers me.

They said we were buying another moped so “we could ride around together”. I was excited. We’d be a three-moped family! The thing is, why would my parents be buying two mopeds? They’re kinda pricey up here.

By we, they meant them. When we got home, they grabbed my keys and left. They left me standing in the driveway and yelled back to me: “Park the car in the garage will ya?!”

Dad roared my poor little Spike’s (my moped’s name is Spike) engine and ripped out of the driveway. I put my hands to my face in worry.

“Not so hard on him! You know he’s just as old as me! Be good to him! Slow down! Slow down!” I yelled after them. My dad increased the speed on Spike. I began to whimper.

When they got back, they proceed to tell me that I won’t be able to use my moped whenever I wanted anymore. They ‘have more rights over it’ than I do. Oh yeah?! Do I have a story for you!

kay, okay, okay, it seems like I’m glorifying Spike for more than he’s worth. He’s a trusty little machine though. I remember riding Spike with my Grandpa when I was younger than 3. Grandpa and I would go up the cherry orchards by his house and I’d sit on his shoulders, pluck cherries off the trees and put them into my sunhat. My hair was blonde and dresses were everyday apparel. My eyes were bright bluish-green.

My grandparents moved out into Leelanau County and took Spike with them (he was nameless at the time) when I was in 5th grade. A year later a mudslide swept their garage away. Spike was in there.

That year my eyes turned muddy brown and my hair became the ugly auburn color that it is today. It’s like my body knew that it was gone.

Grandpa was getting older and the new house he was living at had no space for Spike to ride. Grandpa worked day in and day out to get Spike back to normal again. At long last, Grandpa’s ‘baby’ was back to normal. Granted, he was very scratched up (Spike I mean), but he ran just like before.

Spring of 8th grade, I was very depressed. Grandpa felt terrible about the fact that Spike was sitting in his garage, completely useless to him anymore.

That spring of 8th grade…was when Spike obtained his name and I became his owner. Grandpa gave him to me so he could try to make me happy.

I tried lots of names for Spike. I called him Spud for a long time, because he had an Idaho license plate on it. ‘Spud’ I decided was too lame for his spunky personality.

How can a moped have a personality? The engine sound and how he accelerates and the fact that only Grandpa and I can start him on the first try. (He gives hell to everyone else. Don’t ask me why, but they can’t start him very easily.)

I think the name Euryale fits the new moped. In Greek mythology, she was a goddess of monsters.

"Do you ever question your life?
Do you ever wonder why?
Do you ever see in your dreams,
All the castles in the sky?
Oh tell me why,
Do we build castles in the sky?
Oh tell me why,
Are the castles way up high?
Oh tell me why,
Do we build castles in the sky
Oh tell me why,
Are the castles way up high?"

"Castles In The Sky"
Ian Van Dahl

Ever have such a kick ass day, and the next one sucked ass because you kept remembering it and how great it was compaired to the current day. Well, that's happening to me. Today sucked.

There's a new girl at work. She's a busser and her name is Angela. I don't have anything against her, but she's slow when it comes to bussing. I was vaccuming today and the guy I had a fling for, had his arm around her waist and vice versa. My eyes snapped completely open. I became flaming jealous, but not because I like him anymore, it's because my boyfriend barely even talks to me! I would KILL for a relationship like that!

I wanna break up with Justin. It'll hurt him less than in the future, and I don't feel anything towards him. It's terrible. He said he loves me! What the hell am I supposed to do?!

"If you love someone, let them go. If they return, they were always yours. If they don’t, they never were." –Anonymous.

Today was AMAZING. I really don’t want/mean to brag, but Christ, today was great day!

Around noon, he came over and we uh….fooled around….yeah I’ll just say that much. Anyway, we got takeout from The Omelette Shoppe (where I work), went down to the beach with it, went downtown and hung out there for a few hours and went out for dinner.

I had never eaten at this place before. It was called "Golden Chopsticks" so naturally, what do you think of? Chinese, Japanese, Thai? Yeah, that’s about right.

It was beautiful, and I swear to god we got the best booth in the place. It was a little sunny, but hey, at least it was a nice and clear evening. The booth was in a room with windows all the way up on one side so you can look outside and watch the traffic or whatever really. It was just…so nice.

Not to mention the food was good. ;-) I have the left-overs in my fridge.

With the bill (which he picked up, and I want to pay him back but he won’t let me!) came two fortune cookies. My fortune was "Now is the time to take things one step at a time." I stared at it and felt my face get hot. We swapped so we could read what each others said.

"Doesn’t it sound like they think we’re going out or something?" He said.

"Yeah. That’s exactly what I thought." I said.

I went home after that and was screamed at for being five minutes late. I retreated to my room, and began to type…this! Oh, and daydream, mustn’t forget daydreaming. I’m glad I retreated so quickly though. My parents knew I was with him (I told them), and if I run into her before nightfall, she’s bombard me with questions.

"So what’d you do? Where’d you go? What’s going on with you two? Are you going out yet?"

"Oh shut the fuck up and leave me alone to ponder why I’m even still alive, bitch." I’d say.

I decided to take a shit load of quizzes.

SPIRIT is your chinese symbol!


What Chinese Symbol Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

You have an entrancing kiss~ the kind that leaves
your partner bedazzled and maybe even feeling
he/she is dreaming. Quite effective; the kiss
that never lessens and always blows your
partner away like the first time.

your asshole.


What swear word are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

You are Loss.

Your life defines tragedy. You have experienced
great hardships on an unimaginable scale and it
has jaded your view of life.


What Emotion Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

You are the typical feminist, depressed, artist.
You go against the crowd and do everything you
can to be different. Too bad noone notices.
Try communicating with people, not just looking
down on them.


What kind of typical high school character from a movie are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Gag me. What the hell could I have eaten that makes me feel this way? My intestines feel like someone id pressing on them. Oh well.

I work at a restraunt, in case you weren’t aware. I’m a hostess. Smile, “how many today?”, pick up menus, lead them to their table, NEXT CUSTOMERS! Recently I’m been working as a busser to fill in for Jack, the person who calls me Midget Bitch. I love Jack, he’s just so funny.

But I’m getting a full day bussing gig on Saturday. Can you say “Tips”? Hell I can pack my whole paycheck away this week just because of the tips the waitresses give you. And aren’t I lucky? I got it in good with the waitresses. To them I’m Stephanie “She’ll help you do whatever!” Jones. But as a busser, I’m Stephanie “She’s just so small, how can she carry that huge bus tub?” Jones. I heard Dawn and Laura talking about my efforts.

I couldn’t be a busser all the time. Could you imagine running to a table, grabbing anonymous people’s old and half masticated food and putting it in a bus tub? Not to mention their dirty silverware. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t do it.

But that’s the beauty of spur of the moment bussing that they pull on me! Standing behind the counter gets very boring when you do it from 7 am to 3 pm, especially on a Monday. Monday’s are hideously slow. I dunno, I just like spontaneous I guess (Kinda like in relationships).

One of the bussers I work with has known me for a while and he drives me crazy! His name is Anthony and he just pisses me off, so I try not to make eye contact with him. All the bussers were talking about the most daring thing we’ve ever done. I said: “It’s hard to explain, but I kinda flashed someone at a party.”

“Why wasn’t I there? Come one Steph, flash me now!” He said.

Oh my god, I bolted up front and become a happy hostess for the rest of the day.

I'm not feeling...normal. What I mean to say is I feel much more abnormal than usual. I never really feel normal anymore, I feel...wierd. Screw it, why the hell am I trying to waste my fucking time explaining something you'll never understand.

I cheated big time today on my Atkins. I'm not supposed to have sugar. Sugar is a carb...kinda, but I had three handfuls of candy, and I didn't really even care. Like I tired to explain, I'm completely out of it. I feel completely out of my element. I cried for an hour straight a few days ago. I was in my camper, on my bed, looking up at the ceiling, and my face is just drenched with tears.

I cried for him. I cried for Zavy. I cried for Justin, Colt, Rick, Ariana, Fuka, Princess Meri, Max, Little Sister.... I cried and was reminded of them and how much I miss them.

You know what guilt and sadness feels like to me? It feels like my stomach is made out of feathers and it being pulled apart, and my heart (the feeling is actually right where my heart is) and it's being completely flattened by a heavy hand. It hurts. Not just emotionally, but physically it hurts too. That's one of the reasons I try and tell the truth as much as possible, because my guilt will get me everytime and flatten my heart.

Anyway, is that normal?

I have spare time. Hell, I have a lot. At work, on breaks, all I do is sit under a tree and wait for 30 minutes to go by. Oh, and don't ask me what kind of tree because god forbid if I knew. I also have addresses of friends and I know I like to get mail. Should I write letters to them all??

No, I think only one might appreciate it, so I guess I'll just send out one letter.

I remember thinking,

I'll go on forever only knowing,

I'll see you again,

But I know...

The touch of you is so hard to remember,

But like that touch I know no other,

And for sure we have danced,

In the risk of each other....

"I'll Back You Up"
Dave Mathews Band

So I went to Cracker Barrel with Grandma and Grandpa today. That was a pleasant change of pace for something to do on my day off instead of sitting at home and watching shitty re-runs of Maury.

My grandma doesn’t like the sound of that ‘Atkins diet’ I’ve been doing. I explained to her that I was upset with my image and wanted to do something about it and so I could become stronger and healthier.

“So when you reach your goal, do you just go back to eating all the junk you ate before?” She asked.

“No, that’s one of the main points about the Atkin’s diet,” I explained. “It’s not really even a diet. It’s a way of eating and way of life. I can turn back, but I’ll gain more weight than I had before I began. And this whole thing isn’t difficult so I’m not really worried.”

Anyway who cares?

I started Induction over again, because I found out I did nearly everything wrong and I’m down to 145 (Don’t care if you think I’m fat anymore, because I’ll make sure I won’t be for long!). I’m 20 pounds away from my goal, and 7th grade size. God almighty….7th grade size. It’s still like a dream for me.

But I cut my wrists the other night. God, I really wish someone would see and actually care. I know that I'd probably freak people right the hell out.... Actually I know I already do. Why is it in the human nature to care anyway?

I know which came first, the chicken or the egg.

It's the chicken. God, Budha, Allah, whoever, wouldn't put a defenseless baby on this earth alone.

“Scar tissue the I wish you saw
Sarcastic Mister know it all
Close your eyes and I'll kiss you cause'
With the bird I'll share
With the bird I'll share
This lonely view”

Red Hot Chili Peppers
“Scar Tissue”

I started a new story today, but it has original characters. I'm actually really excited for it. It came to me at work when I was teasing a waitress at work.

"Dammit Sarah! Move!" I joked.

AND IT HIT ME!

I have the dedication and first page written. I started half an hour ago. Here's the dedication:

To the one I lost cause of what was told,
To the one I lost cause he was simply too old,
To the one I lost to endless fights,
To the one I lost to being 'always right',
To the one I lost by going too fast,
To the one I lost by saying it won't last,
To the one I lost that moved away,
To the one I lost because he strayed,
To the one I lost by my wandering eyes,
To the one I lost cause he'd always cry,
To the one I lost by threatening my life,
To the one I lost from twisting the knife...

This is for you.

Is it even very good? It covers a few people, but many are the same.

What was told: Princess Meri
Too old: Steven
Endless fights: Bryan
Always right: ...too many people.
Going too fast: Kyle
It won't last: Andrew
Moved away: Liz, Tyler, Dan
He strayed: Andrew, Rick
Wandering eyes: Kyle, Him
He'd always cry: Bryan
Threatening my life: ...too many people.
Twisting the knife: Princess Meri, Ariana

I got an e-mail from the pageant director!

Good Morning Stephanie,
I'm very glad to see that you are interested in my pageant. It is for the National Coho Salmon Festival which occurs each August. The biggest incentive is the monies given toward college education. There is a little hitch right now for you, you need to be 16. When is your birthday? I'm taking applications now and they have to be turned in by July 18th. Will you be 16 by August 19th? I'm working at the resort today, 800.***.****, you can call if you have any questions.

Thanks,
Kelly

I'm in for next summer, which is great because I am not NEARLY polished enough for this August. By January I will be, but it's in January. Too bad I have to wait another year though. That's a bummer.

Yeah, okay. Second update in one night, but I can’t keep it in anymore. I have to express it to someone, something.

Movies tend to bring out the status of my relationships with the guy I’m currently seeing, or the intensity of my singleness. Okay, I’m making next to no sense. But I’m seeing someone right now. He’s a great guy, and I really do feel for him. I really do, but I feel so disconnected when we talk. It’s like we’re great friends. He says he loves me, and it always plucks at my heart-strings. He feels something for me; a feeling I never thought I would receive again in my life after him. Even Bryan didn’t feel like he did after we dated.

In my mind, I used to think nothing could ever replace him. And I was right. I still am for that matter, because nothing could ever really replace him. We had the strangest relationship, and all thanks to me, it ended like shit. We would go out for a fixed period of time, then I would get bored and say that I wanted to see someone else, to mix things up, see if he really loved me. A minor week later, we’d be back together.

Whenever I got bored, WHAM! “I want to see other people”. And again, a week later: “I’m sorry, and I love you. I never want to leave you. Let’s try again”. And we’d go out for another few months.

The last time we broke up, he did it. I remember crying, because somehow, I knew it was real. I heard sniffling on the other line.

“Are you crying?” I asked, wiping my eyes.

“I never said leaving you would be easy, Steph.” He said.

I don’t think he ever knew why I broke up with him. I lied to him, and god do I regret it. I could have just…told him that I wanted something interesting to do. It would have been so much easier on me, on him, on everyone around us. Ariana became amazingly stressed when him and I broke up. She made sure she was always by my side, so I wouldn't do anything stupid.

God, I was so selfish! I am selfish! I can’t expect to do such hideous things to a person and expect them to love me when it’s over. It’s too bad that my feelings stayed and never really left me.

But with Justin, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. We’re watching the fireworks tomorrow together, I’ll just see what happens.

I can feel my heart beating wildly and I’m feeling shaky and weak. In Northern Michigan, we have the Cherry Festival. On top of that, there is a Cherry Queen. Ever since I was dubbed alternate Princess for my school, I have looked up to that woman with a passion in my eyes. I wanted to be the woman with the crown, smiling, tears misting my eyes, waving gracefully, and clutching roses to my chest. I want to be Cherry Queen.

My parents know people. Lots of people, who have connections with Northern Michigan pageants. Miss Coho is supposed to be great. They look at personality supposedly, as well as talents. My parents know the organizer.

My parents want me to become Miss Coho, so I can build myself up to Cherry Queen. And I get nervous, excited, happy, all at the same time just thinking about it. It strikes a smile on my face, thinking of even being a candidate for any pageant.

It’s amazing to think that if I did this, I might be happy again. It’s amazing to think that I wouldn’t be wearing baggy pants, head bent over, staring at the ground and hiding the fact I had breasts. I would be smiling, wearing dresses and skirts, straight posture, and very aware of my breasts. I’ll do it. I’m eager. I’ll be a girl, if I can accomplish a dream.

And acting girlish is very much a part of pageants. Hell yes I can do it. I could have done SO much better in the 7th grade, when I was happy nearly all the time, but I can do it.

DAMMIT! I’m so determined. I want this so badly. I’ll do anything. ANYTHING.

I'm not worried about my parents. I'm never worried about them. They worry so much about themselves and everything around them, they've become almost freaky like. So what's it like when I wake up to an entirely empty house, and a message on the answering machiene saying that Dad took Mum to the hospital.

Again, I wasn't worried. I was more curious. She was complaining of a stomach ache. No offence, but whoop-de-fucking-do. I have them all the time. What made her think she needed to go to the hospital?

I babysat for little sister and Max (her older brother) for the past two days now. Little sister is not feeling well at all. She's always tired, she's running a fever and it's hot outside. The poor little darling is simply miserable. If she'd quit fussing though, I bet she'd feel a whole lot better.

Little sister was really tired on Saturday (so was I, but I didn't want to say anything), so I took the crying 6 month old in my arms, held her and rocked her slowly in a rocking chair. She was out in five minutes tops. And I sat there for an hour, holding her a rocking back and forth. I felt an even stronger bond with her than I did before.

I really wish she lived up here. They live in Ann Arbor, and I'm lucky to see them 4 times a year. Last year, I saw them twice. My aunt was having troubles traveling with a one year old baby and being pregnant at the same time. So instead, we, that is, my mother and I, went down there to see them. The problem? My schoolwork and her job. I can't skip school when she could call in, and vice versa.

I wonder when my parents get home. I'm really hoping soon, because I want to see little sister, Max, Teresa and Kurt before they leave for home. By looking at the clock, I believe that I wouldn't make it even if I headed over there now.

And I never got to say goodbye.

Happy Independence Day I suppose I should start off by saying. And it’s been a hot one. People say it’s just not the 4th unless someone is rushed off in an ambulance with heat stroke. Whatever.

The fireworks were mediocre, but they have a chance to redeem themselves next Saturday. Tomorrow begins National Cherry Festival and a week from tomorrow it ends. They always celebrate the end of Cherry Fest with fireworks. I’m hoping to get in contact with my friends (not Ariana, Princess Meri, etc.) and we can watch them together.

I have so many scenarios playing out in my head. I pictured my perfect kiss tonight while walking down to the beach to watch the fireworks. I’m sitting on the beach, leaning back on my arms (which, I can’t do at the moment, my carpal tunnel is acting up again and with a vengence), eye contact is made, and there’s really no stopping it, like most fucking movies…. But it sounds nice.

“Steph!” My father says.

“What?” I snap out of my funk and leave the world of happy dreams.

“It’s a nice night right?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

I guess I was depressed and shit all day today. When I got to work, I took a pen and hacked lines over my wrists in ink. I went to the bathroom to wash it off, then scratched my wrist with my nail until it was raw and red.

My period came last night. I was very relieved.

Shit, I have a headache, like…shit. I’m going to bed.

It's a nice day out. Too bad I'm writing this entry on my break at work. It's just so nice out! I'm sitting under a tree, a slight breeze brushing through my hair, sun shining, and about 80 degrees. Another nice day for a bike ride.

I found my favorite watch this morning. It was stuck in the couch, and I was looking for my black nail polish. The battery died. That sucks. So I went to find some fingernail clippers, so I could open up the back and cange the batteries, and went into my mother's bedside table. I found....a dildo. Oh my god, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

I skipped my period. I haven't had it since Steven....you know, so I'm not gonna say it. It's been about a month, but I was supposed to get it about 2 weeks ago and I usually get terrible cramps a week before. Nothing. I've got nothing. I'm getting really fucking worried. What will I do if I'm...p-pregnant? I'd kill myself that's it.

God I miss all my friends. I need someone to talk to. I told Kendall about me skipping and she's worried too. I biked over to her house yesterday and we talked. She said under all the circumstances, I could be. She wants me to go get tested at Planned Parenthood.

My co-worker, Richard seems so sweet and innocent, yet he smokes cigarettes. For some reason, it's almost attractive.

The days are clashing together. I'm continually at work. I miss my friends. It's almost like I'm never home.

Little sister's big brother is turning two tomorrow. I remember Ariana and Sabrina stayed over on the 1st two years ago, and when I looked at the clock at it said 1:39, and declaring it July 2nd I said, today is the day my cousin will be born, and he will be a healthy little boy.

And 5 hours later, my aunt began to go into labor. This is my boy.

This is little sister.

Skate parks in Northen Michigan are springing up left and right. Ours went in in 2000 and we've had nothing but trouble in it. Northen Michigan is 'innocent', except for the kids. Now the city is in debt because of how much to park cost, they can't collect money from the skaters, and the park is constantly closed because of 'behavior problems' and graffiti. It's a skate park for god sake! The graffiti is the fun part. I'd love to join in. Too bad my friends aren't such bad asses. ^_^*

I went for an extra long bike ride today when I got out of work. I'm personally surprised I lasted that long. I went to the edge of Leelanau county, over to Kendall's house (center of the city), then back to my house, on the base of the penninsula. My mom says that's about 12 miles, but that's too long! Isn't it? I dunno, whatever. I just know that I'm tired, but happy that I did it.

On my bike, I've been relatively close to Zavy's house the few times I've traveled far on my bike, and I've debated dropping in. I mean, he did visit me after all. I just don't know how he'd react to it.

I wonder if the scales are right. They actually work again. A few days ago, it didn't even turn on. If they're right, I'm ten pounds below this time last week. When I'm down 20, I'll tell ya how much I wieghed... I just wanna make sure it's working first.