Hi, my name is of no concern to you!'s Journal|
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Hi, my name is of no concern to you!'s LiveJournal:
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|Saturday, October 12th, 2002|
I'm in trouble. I was getting a new account (fantastika) and I typo'd on the password meaning I can't login. I did the sendmemypassword thing but I CAN'T ACCESS MY EMAIL. Argh. If anyone has a spare code they can give me I'll LOVE YOU SO, SO, SO MUCH.
|Wednesday, September 25th, 2002|
OK, OK. I know I'm not supposed to post here anymore but Amy's being lazy about changing my folder name on my blog and... stuff. I hate this SN but I'm not changing it since LJ sucks and I don't use it anymore anyway.
I just need a place to vent.
You know my blog? The one in which I vented all my personal thoughts about school and other people? The one with the hard to guess URL? (alina.lalaland.nu) It got found by the subject of mostly all the entries, 'CHK.' I thought I was so smart, calling him that instead of his real name. I posted things I couldn't tell my mother. And of ALL the people that live in the metro-Atlanta vicinity, he found it. He. He. Him. CHK. He IMed me. "Hi Alina. I like your site. So you really like me, huh?" I tried to play it off with another entry to him, saying I was OK, no big deal. But it is a big deal. RL people finding your blog is something that happens to other people, and when it happens to you, you WANT TO DIE.
At school the next day, he told me again. "Alina, I love your site." I ignore him, walk quickly away, blocking out the giggles I hear from other people. Oh, I told myself he's a gentleman, he wouldn't tell anyone. Wrong again, Alina. I had to deny it now. Play it cool again. "Website? What's HE been smoking?" But the embarrassment=too much.
Three weeks later I'm still humiliated. I can't look him in the eye. Can't talk to him like a buddy. Do I still like him? No, I hate every ounce of his existance, but I have dignity. I can tell he wants to talk about it. He doesn't like me. He never liked me. Stupid me for thinking he would. Stupid me. Stupid Alina.
It was a big blow to the confidence, I'll tell you that. I'm paranoid about him telling other people and laughing about it.
As if he already hasn't.
Fuck you CHK.
Fuck you to hell. Current Mood: aggravated
|Wednesday, August 7th, 2002|
Hey everyone! Guess what! Alina's not
No, she's just been hating the constant obligation of having to post in two
places, an LJ and a blog. Which is why this journal will now be used for rare updating and friends-page-reading. However!
You can catch exciting, up-to-the-minute updates of Alina's uber thrilling life at her blog
|Friday, July 26th, 2002|
|Thursday, July 25th, 2002|
I have just realized my user icons pretty much sum up my personality.
Weezer, Donnie Darko, and manga. Welp.
I was too lazy to post. x.x
Lauren DID call back and it was... not that interesting. She just acted all casual and I felt stupid for having a spaz attack about it. The short and short of it is that I *should've* called earlier because this week she's at some kind of camp from 6 AM-7 PM (I called at night) and next week she's going on a mission trip to Honduras.
A mission trip to Honduras.
Anyway... I want to post about two dreams I had. I think they're influenced by some scary movies or...? I'll put them in the next, friends-only post.
One dream was kind of funny in a sick way; I dreamt it after watching a few slasher flicks and talking to Lenny so I know where to came from.
It started off with me being hit in the head with a bookbag on some kind of field trip, and yelling at the top of my lungs "STOP FUCKING HITTING ME!" I decided to get off the bus and go elsewhere that day, and the next scene was me standing in a parking lot with Lenny and her father. I saw Jennifer Lopez (...) fumbling with her keys, so the next logical step of mine was getting a knife and stabbing her to death on the roof of her car. Lenny's dad then gets her body, puts it in his car, and drives off with us barely getting in. Then we were at Lenny's house, where her grandma somehow knew about J.Lo and says to the father, "I know you killed her." Lenny's mom comes into the room and angrily says, "Don't accuse Bob. He wouldn't do that."
Lenny and I exchange guilty looks and the dream ends.
Aaaaaand the next one I had just last night. It involved 5 people from my school in SC: Leanne, T, Robbie, Daniel, and Ashley, all of which I hated. The dream started off with us going to Six Flags, having a good time, etc. I think we played some kinds of pranks on people, but I don't remember. The funny thing is, Daniel, on whom I had a HUGE crush, was portrayed by my biggest object of lust, Jake Gyllenhaal (an actor). The worst scene was us waiting in line for the Viper, which is a short rollercoaster ride where the train goes up a loop and backwards past the line really fast. I remember some manager guy telling us, "The trains you gave us had glue on the bottom. Now the people are stuck upside down in the loop." We just laughed and continued cutting people in line. When they FINALLY got the train down, it was our turn, and I was facing behind Daniel (Jake?); we were going to sit by each other. Daniel was standing too close to the line and when the train came, it hit him, with me still facing him and watching in horror. He was being dragged beneath the train, hit, cut, arms falling off, blood everywhere. The whole scenario. I know I was standing there all calmly WATCHING him... But in that part of the dream I was
him and I could feel myself getting dragged beneath the train car, though without pain. The dream continued after that scenario with the remaining 4 friends mourning. The kicker? They didn't mourn with me because they blamed me for his death.
The last dream gave me a really odd feeling about it all. I'm trying to interpret it now.
|Monday, July 22nd, 2002|
The first time I got the answering machine but I chickened out and hung up. The second time I actually left a message: "Hi, Lauren, it's Alina, we, uh, moved back in town so if you want, give me a call at..." And that was that. Of course, I didn't trail off like that, I actually left my number, but yeah. Hopefully she'll call back today so I can invite her tomorrow. The day after tomorrow my brother and his friends will be practicing in their band and I want to actually be able to hear myself think.
The paper is sitting in front of face, taped to the monitor with pink tape.
It's calling out to me, telling me to read it, to follow its instructions.
My mother has been bothering me about it all day, as well.
Maybe I should just do it...
7 digits plus an area code, that can't be too hard to press into the phone, right? But what will I say? "Hey, uh, Lauren? It's your old best friend, Alina, I'm back in town so I wanted to know if you remember me."
What's the worst that can happen? Me saying something stupid? Her not remembering me? Telling me to leave her alone....
WHY AM I SO NERVOUS? It's one person, one phone number, one past friend. I'll be casual about it. "Hey, Lauren? It's Alina. We moved back to Atlanta so, uh, I'm just calling everyone I used to know so... how ya been doing?" Does that sound casual?!? What if she's not home? What if she thinks I'm bothering her? She didn't reply to my lasr letter. There wasn't much to reply to, though. Maybe she moved. Maybe this phone number isn't hers anymore. Maybe she's grounded, not allowed to use the phone. Maybe she's someone I don't want to be friends with again....
Oh God, why am I picking up the phone!?
|Sunday, July 21st, 2002|
New colors. Nice and... classic. Anywho.
I rented a few videos at Blockbuster. Strangeland
and The Night the Mailman Went Mad
. Bwaha, bwaha.
I guess I need to call Lauren now. Why do I dread it to much? Current Mood: determined
|Changed the comments..
I have painted my fingernails light pink with dark blue blotches. It's not very cool because it looks like a fish barfed up on my nails, but I do not care.punkjunk
: I'm going to send out your stuff as soon as I figure out how to do this hemp... so far I made you two zipper pull things (but they can be used for whatever else) and I like them. I'm tempted to keep them for myself and send you an old sandwich instead.
No news. At all. No old man.
I am, however, calling my old best friend with whom I haven't talked with for 4 years. So, uhm, hope she remembers me. *crosses fingers* Current Mood: hopeful
|Friday, July 19th, 2002|
Wow, dude, I couldn't sleep last night. Every little scratching sound was a creepy old man trying to break in and every flash of anything even remotely blue colored was a creepy old man trying to break in. See, my room is on the first floor, right next to the front door. Me wakes up in the middle of the night because of a sound, goes to check the door, it's unlocked!
That's not very reasurring, you know. I kept thinking about creepy old men and.. ARGH!! Stop it, brain!!
I've never been this paranoid. Go away, creepy old man.
On a lighter note...
You know how in I Know What You Did Last Summer, that girl wins some kind of beauty contest? I had a dream I was in something like that.. it started off with an LJ community and someone thinking I was 9 years old, then amounted to this creepy big circus with flying monkies. It also involved me dating a past "friend" of mine from SC.
GRR. GRR. GRR.
I was swimming and I saw him standing over my fence looking in. He was still wearing the blue t-shirt. So I race inside, get my mom, and she sees him too, acting all concerned. Sean (brother) comes out and says, "Oh, he's only walking his dog!" And my mom and he burst out laughing. Sean picks up my personal alarm thing (beeps like hell when you pull the string) and says, "What's this? Are you going to kill him with it?" And they laugh again.
THEY SHOULD HAVE FUCKING SEEN HOW HE WAS LOOKING AT ME.
All smiley-smiley and his hand on his crotch.
I told my mom to call the police and she just laughed again.
I bet they're going to laugh their heads off once I get kidnapped and chopped up into little pieces.
|Thursday, July 18th, 2002|
Just bloody great.
I was sitting in my mom's room working on Winter's
zipper pull thing, and suddenly my mom points to her glass door to the backyard and says, "Is that your brother walking around back there..?" I tell her he is upstairs, and she bolts to the kitchen so they can both check it out. No one was there. If a boogeyman was lurking round these quarters, we scared him away.
Me: That is pretty creepy, don't you think?
Mom: A potential pedophile has probably started to stalk you.
Wrong answer, mom. The correct answer was, "You have nothing to worry about Alina, there is nothing scary or weird going on here."
And guess what movie I just rented? I Know What You Did Last Summer.
Let me preface this by saying we have a pool in the backyard with a wooden fence behind it that runs across the back of our entire subdivision because there's this big street behind it. Now, it's not one of those fool-proof fences; in fact, it has big gaps between each plank. Now.
I was innocently swimming by myself, throwing those sink rings around and fetching them when I spotted something really blue behind the fence. A flag? A flier? So I cautiously look behind me and..
There's this fat old man crouched behind the fence staring at me. Just staring at me.
Now, let me ask you what kind of creep would sit near a busy street, crouched behind a fence and stare at little girls in bikinis.
A creepy kind of creep.
I ran at the speed of light back into the house and locked all the doors because I do not want to be... stared
at by some white-haired basket of flab.
I am never going in my backyard again.
I just went on a Random Bike Ride again with a sweatshirt tied around my waist (god knows why).. and when I was racing downhill at the fastest point the bike suddenly stopped and something was like.. pulling on my butt. I remember thinking, "Ahh! My cat followed me and I ran her over!" but I realized it was my sweatshirt.. stuck in the wheel. I couldn't go forward and I couldn't get off the bike because it was tied pretty tightly.. so.. I just stayed still and a few seconds later, I fell over sideways on purpose. Not only did that look odd but it HURT; I swear my life was flashing before my eyes.. well, no, but still. Current Mood: cynical
Just a quick semi-update. If you feel so inclined as to add me to your friends list, be a doll and tell me? Otherwise, when I check my userinfo and find extra people adding me whilst having no clue as to who they are.. well... it sucks. Right now I add 29 people and 36 add me back. How do you think that makes me feel? (other than really, really, really cool!!)...
It makes me feel guilty, yes siree. So, uhm, if you must add me and start a k3wl5135 LJ relationship, just reply to one of my posts and tell me about yourself. What brand of toothbrush do you normally buy? (I use Gum-Blaster
.) What color is your front door?(Mine is gray-blue, painted to match the rest of the house.
) What is your favorite late night commercial? (I'd have to say I like the one about earning your college degree from the comfort of your home!
Anyway, yeah. You get the idea. How am I supposed to add you back if I have no clue who you are? I do not compete in the "addasmanypeopletoyourfriendslistasyouca
Er, under some raging fit of hysteria I decided to write a short story about.. stuff. 5 minutes later, I got bored, but here is the beginning of it for all of my smart readers to study and enjoy! She passed by the store window at a quick pace, but upon realizing what it was that she so much wanted not to see, she took a few steps backward, landing her in front of the window display. The shiny knives and forks and sporks glimmered in the cheap lighting along with other kitchen supplies so grandly displayed under the "SALE!" sign. She sighed in a romantic way and entered the store. "Hi, I-" she began, but forgot what she had to say next. She pointed to the window display, to her purse, and nodded eagerly, smiling.
No one said anything.
Where were they all? The clerk, the saleslady, the manager? Anyone?
She found herself standing alone in the store. Everything started spinning around her in a dreadful whirlpool of toasters and turtle-shaped waffle makers. The pickle forks grew to a tremendous size and threateningly stepped toward her, taunting and teasing. She backed away, and covered her ears to drown out the hissing noise..
So loud... so loud...
She fell backwards into the arms of someone. "What," she managed to croak out, still dizzy from the spinning plate sets. "It'll be OK," a heavenly voice said.
"It'll be OK, Edna, everything is going to be just fine."
Her Holy Saviour patted her on the back. "Come now, Edna. It's back to your room now." She smiled wisfully and led her away.
Alina woke up very early today considering she went to bed at 3.. which was, too.. early.
Beh. I want a friend. Not some giggly-yakyak girlfriend but a disposable, pseudo friend. As of now I have.. 0
offline friends! GO ME!