Family Matters

Yesterday was hectic. I woke up at two, realizing that I had to go school shopping. I went and told Dad, who was at Jess's house with the guys playing D'n'D. He told me Jess would take me. I was a little disappointed, but I agreed. But apparently, Jess was with Jenn shopping in Clairemont.
I passed the time by making a list of the things I'd need. I asked Dad to sign it, because Jess normally didn't believe I would need colored pencils or markers. Dad looked it over and instantly crossed out 'gum' and 'Cotton Candy Perfume.' I was hurt because I chew gum in class to concentrate, and I wear that perfume all the time. I seriously hate the way I smell without it. But obviously I didn't say anything, because it was a stupid thing to fight about. Vern's dad said something about how I was trying to manipulate Jess and didn't deserve the items on my list. He meant it to be funny, but it really stung.
When they got home, Jess told me that Jenn would be taking me. I nodded and went to the house and informed Jenn (who was feeding Nik) that we'd need to go to Big Lots and Walmart. When she asked me how we would pay, I told her that Dad would probably give us some money. She told me to go ask Dad for the money so we could leave sooner. I did, and Dad told me that he wanted to give it strait to Jenn, right after Big Vern said something about how I would get her to buy me things I didn't even need, and how- again- I would manipulate my sister. I told Dad that he could just give me the money- or TRIED to, anyway- when Big Vern kept saying, "Nope, she's lying!" Every time I tried to say a word, he'd cry, "No, she's lying! Lier!" I couldn't get three words out. Finally I just fucking gave up because Big Vern wouldn't let me say anything.
I told Jenn I couldn't get the money, and she sent me back. So when I got there, Dad told me he had expected Jenn to pay, and then he would pay her back later. When I told Jenn, she promptly told me that she didn't want to discuss her financial situation in front of everyone. I thought that was awesome, I don't know why, but I really liked her saying that, because it called out that Dad was being an ass about it.
When I told him, he remarked he wasn't asking her to do that. Meanwhile, Big Vern started in on me AGAIN. He told me I should be paying for this myself, and that I should get a job. When I told him politely that I was too young to legally have one, he said something about babysitting, carwashing, and begging. I shook it off like it was all a joke and pulled my trench coat closer. He then started laying into me about wearing a trench coat. He complained it was too warm and that it didn't look good. That hurt. I thought it looked good, but it smashed my confidence. I was freezing because I was still sick, and both houses had the air conditioning full blast, but I took off the coat anyway.
While this was going on, Jess and Dad were talking about Jess taking me shopping and Dad would pay her back later. Jess was obviously tired and was making a huge deal of it. Dad evidently noticed, because he was insisting, "No, I can take her." Jess replied, "No, I'll take her, because she HAS to go RIGHT NOW." That hurt. I replied that I didn't have to go RIGHT NOW, I just had to go TODAY, and that I was fine going with Dad. I went to tell Jenn she wouldn't have to take me.
When I came back, Vern asked me what was so busy in my schedule that I couldn't go later. I told him about the APEC parties, registration, Jenn's birthday, and the Doctor's Appointment. He made a comment on how I could go after registration; I rolled my eyes playfully and was about to respond when Big Vern shouted, "Oh, you should have seen the look she just gave you!"
I was pissed, so I got up to leave. I didn't want to be there anymore; Paul made a remark to Jess that I should be smacked, Jess was telling me that she'd take me (still) because I had to go right now, and Vern was just shaking his head laughing at his dad, who was now doing impressions of me.
I was at the door when Big Vern yelled, "Oh, she's mad!" The instant I slammed the door I started crying. I hated it in there! It's one thing when I'm getting bullied by someone- I can take that. When I'm getting bullied and everyone's agreeing- that's harder, but I can take that. But when people I consider family and love with all my heart treat me like I'm a snobby bitch, and then let someone (Vern's dad) fuck with me without saying a word or standing up for me, that's the fucking worst. I couldn't stop crying. I tried to stand up for myself but everyone was telling me he was just kidding, that I was wrong for getting so upset, that he was just playing.
I walked up Rattlesnake Hill sobbing. I was cold because I was still sick, and I wanted to go home, but I didn't want to go back and have everyone tell me I was being a bitch and that I shouldn't take Big Vern's "jokes" so seriously.
I walked through Old Poway Park and took the backroads to Hilleary. I didn't want anyone I knew drive by and see my mascara running because I was crying so hard. I mean, you might not think it's a big deal, but my Dad and Jess are two of the people I look up to the most-especially my Dad- and to have them treat me like a snobby teenager and make me feel like less than a person is horrible. And they just laughed at Big Vern's jokes; I always thought Daddy would be the first to defend me when I'm about to cry. But evidently not.
I got lost in a few neighborhoods. You'd think that after an hour I'd be done, but I wasn't. I finally ended up on Andrew's doorstep. I didn't really want to go there- honestly- but I was REALLY close to passing out because of my illness. I mean, my eyes started doing that weird-color flash thing, which is the worst sign to tell you to fucking just sit down. I actually hoped I would pass out in a ditch somewhere so it wouldn't be my fault for not coming home.
Andrew was really supportive. He actually made me feel like a human being again, not a snob teenager whose only purpose is to run messages from Jess's house to mine. I really should have stood up for myself and said, "I'm sick and I shouldn't be running these messages." But Big Vern would have probably called me a lazy worthless teenager, and everyone would laugh. I'm not being morbid, sadly; I'm being truthful.
Anyway, so I cried in Andrew's arms for a good forty-five minutes. I apologized profusely for dragging him into my problems and proceeded to walk home. Five minutes after starting home Andrew came running up and told me he wasn't letting me home alone. We walked quite slowly (I didn't want to go back) and took the back roads.
We were almost to my house when I was almost run over. I jumped back and realized it was Damian. Apparenly he came to my house looking for Andrew, and they told him to get me home because I was in trouble. Josh was orgasming on how much trouble I was in. He kept looking back and smiling, and saying things like, "You're sooo busted!" and "Oh my god, they'll make you break up with Andrew!" He stopped after Andrew punched him in the cheek. Andrew held my hand the entire time and kept telling me it was okay, that he was here for me. Sometimes that boy is the only thing keeping me going.
I got home; Jenn and Chris were pretending to be busy, but it was obvious they were paying attention to my (and Dad's) every move. Dad looked like a bug. His eyes were all bulgy and his lips puckered. It was so hard not laughing.
He did the normal questions ("Where were you?" "Why didn't you tell anyone where you were going?") I started crying again. I really felt like the victim. He was the reason I wasn't home in the first place, and now he's sitting there blaming me, still thinking I left because of SHOPPING.
He calmed down after a while, and I sort of told him I got upset over Big Vern's comments. He told me I was wrong to feel that way and that everyone knew it was a joke.
Stupid me.
They then told me to take some: Tylenol, Vikadin, Nyquil, and wine. To sleep, so I could get up on time. Chris later handed me the Vikadin, which I immediately discarded. It's really sad that they pretend to care about me, but don't mind giving me illegal substances, and medicine I don't need. I took a nap at nine and woke up around twelve. I didn't take any of the medicine. Oh, well. Through the medicine thing Jenn was on my side anyway. She looked as shocked as I felt that Dad didn't mind drugging his small daughter.

Yeah, I haven't posted in a while, so I should start with first things first.
I always used to laugh at teenagers when I was younger, about age eleven. They would gossip about boys, school, and clothes, which to me was so stupid. Especially the word drama. But that's what I got myself caught up in. Drama. Great.
Lately, Andrew's been treating his brother Damian like crap. It all started when I got sick- I was sick with something for a few days- when Andrew insisted I come over so he could take care of me. And he tried his boyish best; he attempted to make soup and piled tons of blankets on me.
Sometime in the afternoon, Andrew bent down for a kiss. I resisted and turned my head, partly because I didn't want him sick as well, and partkly because he was putting pressure on me and it hurt. I told him that and we got into a sort of fight.
Finally, Damian walked up behind him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and pulled him off of me. He told Andrew that he was hurting me, and yelled that I didn't want to kiss him.
So Andrew picked up the hint that I was pissed, so he left to go mope in his room. Meanwhile, Damian and I were having a fine time in the living room. When Andrew came back out, he was even more pissed.
From then on, he's been stealing his brother's things, "accidently" broke his cologne and lost his hat, and pushed him down in the hallway, causing him to hit his head on the table.
That did it. I went off on Andrew about what an asshole he was being, and that I would break up with him if he ever touched his brother (or his possessions) again. This caused Andrew to finally cool down on his brother, but I'm still on Damian's ass for telling me if his brother's doing anything. But Andrew seems to be okay with his brother for now, and besides, he bought me a chocolate rose and a plushie. Hey, my love's easily bought.
I went to go get some clothes a few days ago. I bought a lot of cute shorts, T-shirts, and socks, along with a killer black trench coat. So on Friday, Mikaela and her boyfriend Stephen, along with Andrew and I, went to go see Despicible Me. I wore some capries, a T-shirt, and my heels. I thought I looked good and not even remotely slutty. It's not like I was wearing short-shorts and high heels- I had on capries and my wedge heels.
Andrew and I were standing there when I overheard Mikaela and her mom, who was there to drop her off. Her mom was commenting on how I was dressed; apparently, in her words, I looked, "Like a baby hooker. I swear, Mikaela, if you ever dress like that you're grounded. Watch her shove her tongue down her boyfriend's throat, she looks like a tramp."
Wow. Thanks, Mikaela's mom. And Mikaela's brother added that I was annoying and probably had a STD.
I wanted to cry. I didn't even know her brother, but I've always tried to be nice to Mikaela's mom, and she's always seemed to like me. It made me feel loads better when Mikaela yelled at her mom for saying that.
They still don't know I heard.

Sometimes, I seriously think my life is one continuous walk down the runway. It's so easy, I don't understand suicide at all! At least, with teens my age. Life's so not complicated, it's not even funny. But I guess some people have more problems than I do.
Strike that. I know some people have more problems than I do.
I've noticed everyone's changed over the summer. All my friends are different. My outgoing, fun friend Lauren has drastically changed to a sort of clingy, saddened one. Mikaela is SO much more outgoing it's not even funny, and as for me, I'm more like a girl every time I look into the mirror.
Last year, in the beginning, I didn't wear make-up. I thought if a boy judged me on my looks, I wouldn't want him. Now, I realize it's just a way for a boy to judge. I mean, I judge guys on their looks, so it's only right for it to be the other way around.
Now, all I can think of is the clothes shopping trip this Friday. I've got places pegged for jewelry, shoes, shirts, skirts, and shorts. I haven't even thought about jeans, which was my signature, for, like, ever. And the word "like" too. I mean, really, it's just my Californian accent kicking in, but everyday I find myself more and more your average highschool cliche.
So what's literally been "up." Well, I guess I'll start with the guys.
There's something I should make clear before delving into this story: I get really, really emotional when I'm sleepy. Anything can set me off- even if we just ran out of toothpaste.
So while I was being two-in-the-morning emotional me, Damian called, and we started bitching about Andrew. Damian off-handedly mentions something about Andrew flirting with other girls, which puts me in a frenzy like no other. I bitch and cry while Damian tries to calm me.
Finally, Damian invites me to the skating rink Friday to get away from everything, which seriously puts Damian on my Awesome Close Friends list. God bless Damian :)
Anyway, I settle down the next day, Andrew and I talk it out, and everything's good. I went to see Damian, who looked severely depressed on his bed. He barely talked. Josh ran in, and, being Josh, started ranting about something to me. Damian tackled him, red in the face, but I heard, "Oh my God, Damian, you were so excited about her, and the skating rink-"
Josh left, and Damian admitted what had happened.
Yeah, Damian likes me. And is jealous of Andrew, and was mad we stayed together.
But Bloggie, Damian's really chill, and again, he's on my Awesome Friends List.
How's this for a teenage cliche?

I've been babysitting Niko lately, and I love it. He's so easy to care for; after a summer of babysitting Lydia, I could go for anything. He's really sweet and adorable; I especially love when he's fussy and he wants his binky, because I get to dip it in banana cream pudding, which he loves. He does these cute baby-olympics trying to get a hold of the binky.
The Pudge Monster is six months now, and has lungs like no one's business. I hate it when he cries, because he sounds miserable, like something's torturing him, not like a stinky diaper. I always wonder if he can see things we can't.
Speaking of weird supernatural things, I've been really, really psychic lately. First, it started off with "feelings." I had a feeling to just stay away from the living room, and minutes later, Dad was screaming at everyone about the house not being clean.
Remember how I stole my brother's eagle knife? Well, I had it set on the nightstand. I looked at it, and just felt like I should move it. I put it in a drawer minutes before Chris barged in and sat on my bed. If I hadn't moved it, it would have been seen.
More occurances started happening. I move for the phone before it rings, catch things before they fall, know exactly who's at the door, and even wake up seconds before Niko starts to scream.
More pronounced things started going down. I was sitting in my room a few weeks ago and suddenly thought, "Hey, I should put on some makeup." It was weird, because I never put on makeup unless I'm going to be seeing someone outside my family. Minutes after I was done, Andrew came for a surprise visit.
A week ago I was invited to the beach by Andrew. He told me he would be at my house in a half hour. I put on my iPod and listened, but five minutes later, I suddenly put down my iPod and grabbed my things. Seconds later, Andrew knocked; he was twenty-five minutes early.
Today I was going to go walk with Niko to the park, but because of my fear of going into public alone, I decided to grab my Swiss army knife. It's normally in my trunk, but something told me to look in my gris-gris. And there it was.
Last but not least: while walking, I was simply thinking of how pretty the trees were. Honestly. But seconds later, I randomly thought, "What if Trev is here?"
I had a crush on Trevor for years, and just got over it. I haven't thought about him in months; it was completely random, and couldn't be true. Trev's a popular guy, and he's at skate parks and the movies, not at a nature park. I dismissed the idea.
I walked by a rickety bridge, and my instinct said, "Go across." Again, I ignored it. I mean, it looked seriously unstable, and I didn't want the baby bumping along it. I passed along on my merry way, and crossed the smoother bridge.
I happened to took up, and who did I see? Trev. You will never understand how weird that is, because he's sooooo popular and doesn't hang out around parks. I mean, really. And if I had crossed the previous bridge and kept on walking, I would have walked right into him.
Weeeeeeiiiirrrrrdddddd.

Chris

So, yeah. My brother has officially gone too far. Lately, Wil's razors have been opened and used- by Chris. Jenn's toothpaste- which she asked Chris not to use- had been left carelessly in the shower. Chris uses my Cotton Candy BodyWash and Ganier shampoo.
He moved into the shed. Dad told him "Don't party" and "Don't let anyone know you're there." So what does he do? Throw a party and has all of his drunken friends over. Beer bottles have littered our backyard and his shed. Oh, yeah, and in Sharpie, he wrote on the wall: "Manshed", "Beer!" with an arrow pointing to a large case, and "Spot for Sexual Seduction!" with an arrow to his bed. I mean, fucking gross, Chris. Dad's going to get that shed back and know what the fuck you did back there. Ugh.
So today, he says "Katie, can I borrow your cord? I need to download some songs." So I agree, but knowing Chris, I follow him to his shed to make sure he won't steal it. He plugged in his iPod and it quickly froze. I felt bad.
So I offered him my iPod.
"Just make sure you have it back soon."
"Don't worry. I'll have it back by one. I'm going to the gym and then to see my girlfriend."
"Okay. By one?"
"By one."
IT'S FUCKING SEVEN, CHRIS, YOU FUCKING CUNT. He is such a goddamn asswipe, and I won't forgive that bastard for this. I need music. He's such a fucking dick for doing this to me. "Yeah, I'll have it back by one-" What a fucking lie! He's such a douche and I will never- for the love of God- lend him anything ever again! I cannot WAIT until he's moved out again! It was SO nice and peaceful without him screwing everything over again!
Never. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. I stole his Eagle Knife a few weeks ago- and I was going to give it back- but now I'm not. I might even borrow something of his and give it to him three days after I said I would.
If it comes back even slightly damaged, or worse, if he loses it, I will never forgive him. Oh, and get this: he fucking deleted my music and put on his own.
FUCK YOU, CHRIS.
Fuck you.

I Miss Lauren!

I finally got a new monitor. I- being an idiot blonde- washed my monitor with Windex, causing it to spazz. It developed two largo black dots- one over the upper right corner, one in the lower left corner- that I've had to navigate around for the last week. This new one is quite wide, but it adjusted. The writing looks smaller for some reason.
I miss Lauren with such a passion. We were like best friends- why the hell did she have to move? I cried so much when she left. She gave me a friendship bracelet in May that I wrapped on my ankle, and I haven't taken it off for anything. Not once.
Bloggie, when we first met, we just clicked. I don't know how it happened; she was so much like me but so different it was scary. She believed in ghosts, practiced Wicca, was outgoing, was spazzy, chased boys, and loved movies I loved. We were so alike, but there were a few differences, which, in my opinon, made us closer. She seemed happier and bubbly, while I was normally in a neutral mood and carefully thought about what I said, whereas she blurted out things spontaneously. And paid the price for it.
We sacrificed a lot for each other. She would comfort me, encourage me, let me borrow money, and draw me things. We used to sit in Mr. Parry's class and laugh at everything, no matter how stupid. We'd share our iPods and try to out-draw one another. We'd write "Lauren's a hooker" or "Katie's a ho" on the whiteboard. We made videos together.
I did things for her, too. We used to go to the bathroom together, like normal girls. Lauren cut because of her abusive father; I tried to sleepover every chance I got so she wouldn't have to deal with him. Lauren is a bisexual; once, I actually convinced this asshole who was spreading rumors about her- Trevor- that I was lesbian, just so he would knock it off. You see, Bloggie, Trevor is actually afraid of me because I'm the "Scary Witch Girl". So yeah, he knocked it off. For reference, however- I'm strait.
Lauren isn't going to be that far. She's going to Kearny Mesa. Andrew promised to drive me when he gets him driver's liscense in a month. Obviously I'll have to ask Daddy if I'm allowed, but if Andrew demonstrates he's a good driver I don't see the harm.
Yay.

FAT TALK RANT

Eh, my sleeping schedule is all screwed up again. It's not my fault my body needs seventeen hours to function.
I watched the movie The Craft, which wasn't as bad as I expected. I don't know why I thought it would be bad- I always just assume that "Wicca movies" are always Hollywood-ized, and glamor-filled. Funny thing, too, right after I watched it this girl named Taylor asked me if we could get together someone and discuss Wicca, because she's interested. Seriously, I'm not even Wiccan but everyone thinks I'm a creepy voodoo witch. I remember when I pretended to cast a spell on Kenzie and she started crying. It was awesome.
My tomato garden is officially out of control. All of the tomatoe plants have grown over the strawberries, and bugs are running rampant. Maybe I should do something about it. Or not.
Chris moved into the outside shed and stole three fans. What a moron. He seriously needs to give them back, because Mom and Dad are getting pissed. Along with me. I gave him my turbo fan, which is easily enough to cool that whole room, but no, he steals the other three. And apparently he'd been using Wil's razors and Jenn's body wash. And tried to cover it up. What an ass. He used to use my Garnier and my Cotton Candy Body Bubbles- girl products- and take my pink-ass razors too. I hide that stuff now. He needs to learn hands-off. And of course he did it- Chris, Jenn, and Wil are the only ones who use that shower, and obviously Jenn and Wil aren't nabbing their own stuff. Jesus Christ, Chris. He even still steals my socks. I can't wait until he moves out.
Don't get me wrong, Bloggie. He's my brother, and I love him bunches. But we've always been at odds, because we used to fight so much when we were little. What I don't understand, though, is that for the past year I've tried to stay out of his way. I don't use his stuff, or blame anything on him, or even talk about him. So why does he consistently use my socks and shampoo, eat my food, and complains about me constantly. Seriously! Yesterday, Dad told him to mow the lawn, and he said, "Oh my God! Seriously? Why doesn't Katie or Jenn ever do anything?" This was, of course, after I cleaned the bathroom and Jenn vacuumed. And this was also the morning after I gave him my fan. What a cunt.
I've decided to put my foot down on my family's health issues. I mean, I've been trying to start conversations with Dad about our health concerns, but he blows me off. When I buys ice cream at the store, I try to get rid of it. He lacks some motivation.
Bloggie, I swear: Nothing tastes as good as healthy feels.
Jenn is struggling with weight problems, apparently. I thought she was fine- but she informed me she's not, even though she looks okay. I always wondered why they say most of America is obese, because I didn't see that many big people. Well, I guess that being Jenn's size, which looks fine to me, is overweight.
And another thing I'm going to rant about. Overweight. America is so obsessed with being skinny. I mean, is it seriously the end of the world to be fat? There are sick, malicious, perverted, self-centered, snobby, spoiled, heartless people in the world, but, hey, at least they're skinny. I want to lose a bit of weight; it's not because I want to look better. It's because I don't feel well and I'm always tired, a sign that I'm a little chubby and need to stop eating junk. But I don't think I'm fat. I'm comfortable with my body, and I want to be healthy to maintain it. But health and skinny are two different things. Did you know that 54% of women would rather be hit by a truck than to be fat? 81% of ten year olds are afraid of being fat. 67% of women ages 15-64 don't go to the doctor because they're embarassed about their appearance. If mannequins were real women, they'd be too thin for childbirth. To be a Barbie, you'd need two ribs removed and would have to be seven feet tall for the proportions. Jesus tapdancing Christ.

Indians and Beauty

Today Daddy took Andrew and I to his company picnic. The day started off with me dragging Andrew onto the kiddie slide, and taking embarassing photos of him, Daddy, Jenn, Wil, and the midget.
After an hour or so, Daddy's friends, Caren and some-other-weird-people joined us. They were all conversing about work, so I went with Andrew to go explore.
I was attracted to the back of the park by a large red flower, which produced no fragrance or proper petals whatsoever. Bored, Andrew and I walked to the huge random pile of rocks, where he trapped me in a corner and I had to escape.
While escaping, I tripped randomly and fell, skinning half my leg and my knee. It was so cute; I was on the ground biting my lip to not cry, and Andrew did the most adorable ninja-move to come over and make sure I was okay. He picked me up, and I saw what I had tripped on.
It was a hole. Actually, many holes in this rock. I thought it looked familiar until it hit me: The holes in this rock were made by Native Americans! Probably the Diaganos tribe; dating back hundreds, maybe thousands of years!
I was mezmerized. The holes was were they would place acorns to ground up with a rock and sweeten to make their food. There was a good nine or ten holes in there; I sat there wondering who had used them, what they were thinking of; so many questions, while Andrew stood around and got bored. He's not interested in history like me.
We left for the woods, where I made sure to look around for artifacts and bring a camera. And Bloggie, did I need that camera. The place was breath takingly beautiful; there were mini waterfalls and beautiful colored moss and trees everywhere. Stone walls lined the edges; they were perfectly crumbled and worn to give them an old feeling.
The tree roots were the coolest. They were strong and grew above the ground in crazy positions; there was a part where you could walk over the river on them and see the water rush beneath your feet.
Bloggie, I have always truly believed in fairies. People call me crazy, but I cannot help but believe in them. I have so many books on them, and when I get a weird, tingly sensation I always instantly think of them. I was sitting in the tree roots of a particularly gorgeous tree when I felt that feeling. There were dark, ominous holes in the tree and I couldn't help but think something was watching me.
Every corner was a new breathtaking sight. There was an underground room of roots; a cave made of trees; a spider city. And the best part is it's not man-made! It's a pure, natural river, and the only thing man-made is the walls, and even that isn't that bad. There were only two; the rest had rock waterfalls and fallen trees and beautiful things that made me warm inside.
Afterward, Daddy took me to Fry's to get a computer screen, and then to Golden Spoon. Well, gotta run! Haven't slept in twenty-seven hours.

Demon Car

Hey, Bloggie. Just came by to tell you a story that I want to remember:

I was watching a movie with Daddy, Mom, Chris, Jenn, Wil, and the baby. The movie was scary; it was about a demon who could possess cars and force them to run people over. The demon could also possess objects and make them kill their owners. There is a vivid part still in my head where a brunette was slaughtered by the teddy bear she was holding. She was holding it because she was crying because she was afraid of the demon that had just killed her parents.
The movie spared us no gore. Blood everywhere.
I watched as the car in the movie took down people who looked and acted like people I knew; Mark, Sam, Dylan, Cassie, Jazzmen. Andrew, my boyfriend, had a gruesome death.
For no reason, Jenn and Wil decided to go for a walk with Nik. Chris also left a bit later. Mom and Dad were trying to calm me; I had locked the front door and all the windows, and was curled in a blanket praying that Jenn, Wil, Nik, and Chris hadn't been maimed by a car.
The back door opened, just a crack. I was terrified; it was almost dark now, and the demon could get me. I ran to the door, but it wouldn't shut. It was jammed on some invisible force.
Jenn, Wil, and baby came back up the walkway. I grabbed baby and threw Jenn in. I was crying and I told them what had happened, and that the demon was here. I looked at Wil and he had unusually dark eyes. It hit me that he was the demon, and he realized that I knew he was the demon. He flung himself at the door but I shut it too quickly. It was caught on the same jam and I struggled to close it.
It wouldn't close, but I locked it in a position to be sure it wouldn't open either. I ran back into the living room where my family was sitting calmly; Chris came through the front door smiling. I locked the door again and screamed, "YOU GUYS THERE'S A DEMON IT'S GONNA KILL US!"
They ignored me.
Shaking and breathing quickly, I put the baby in a basket and covered it up. Daddy suddenly exploded; guts and gore was everywhere. No one noticed but me.
Mommy was next. Her neck broke itself and she fell to the floor.
Jenn and Chris were watching the movie.
Jenn's eyes got big like Wil's. I closed my eyes and sort of thought to the demon, "Who are you and what do you want?"
I was taken to another demension, sort of. It was some sort of catacomb, with a low, mildewed ceiling and dirt floor. Decayed bodies were strewn around the catacomb. In the middle, staring at me, was a man. He had long blonde hair, extremely white skin, red eyes and horns. He was laughing.
When I came back, Jenn had a long machete and was licking blood off of it. I don't know who she killed; Niko and Chris were watching the Simpsons contentedly. I cried and ran to my spot on the couch as Jenn lashed out at me, missing.
I kissed Chris and told him I loved him; I pushed myself under the blankets, held the baby to my chest, wondered what death felt like and prayed it would be over soon. I was concentrating everything on the baby when I felt arms around my waist, and Chris was whispering, "Shhh, it's okay, it's not real, calm down, it's only a movie. . ."
And then I woke up.
I was in the same position as in my dream; curled in a ball, clutching my pillow as if it were a baby, with the echo of the comforting hands on my waist.
When Andrew called me, apparently he couldn't see me today because his body was aching- his dad drove into him with his car this morning.

Prince of Egypt

Helllloooooo, Bloggie. I slept from two to nine today. Gettin' my schedule back on, one day at a time. . .
Soooo, anyway, Blogg, breakfast was great. Pannicakes and bacons and eggies! Mommy ate a lot, which is good, because she's fifty, five foot four, and weights ninety pounds. Ninety pounds, Blogg! I mean, Jesus Christ!
I watched Prince of Egypt today, and cried during the river lullaby. It's so sad, how she had to give up her child to a river infested with crocodiles and hippos. I mean, life is a bitch, ain't it? Even in Ancient Egypt. But if Ramses were a person in this life I think he'd be cute.
Well, that's enough boring you for one day, Bloggie. Bye.

Kindness

Okay, so I'm in that mood again. You know, that mood. The mood which is that.
It's the mood inspired by my friend London. You see, my friend London is amazing. She never swears or says anything mean, she's very responsible, and everyone loves her because she's always so nice to everyone and does random things to brighten everyone's day.
And she inspires my kindness mood. The mood where I suddenly want to volunteer and donate clothes and make dinner for my family.
So, yeah, I'm in that mood. I already have my day planned out: I'm going to surprise everyone with both breakfast and dinner and wash the car. I'm also going to leave anonymous compliments on my friends' formsprings.
All of this with the air of the element of surprise. I have it planned perfectly. I'll cook shrimp for Jenn (I do this sometimes) and watch baby. I'm cooking eggs, bacon, and pancakes for breakfast, and if I can find it, orange juice. For dinner I'll make chicken with mashed potatoes.
This is sort of a big deal for me, I guess. I'm so lethargic and uncaring that I normally don't do this. Also, most of my family are on strict diets, but we're all too lazy to cook meals, so we fend for ourselves, which normally doesn't turn out that healthy. If someone does make something, it's like popcorn, cookies, or a cake. And Daddy's sort of big already, and I'm afraid he'll leave us with a heart attack. I love my Daddy, and I am not going to lose him!
Oh! Another idea: I'll make some coffee for Mom. She gets home around six or seven, so I could just brew a pot for her and Daddy. . . and myself, of course.
I guess I can take the doggy for a walk, too. . .
All right, I've probably bored you with charity. Besides, I have to get out of here- my room reeks of thawing chicken.

Golden Spoon Crack

Well, hey, Bloggie. I'm nice and bathed and ready to talk about meaningless things that no one cares about but I'll come back in three years and go "Hey I remember this." Yay, run-on sentence. Ms. Sullivan would be so proud of me. I can hear the ruler already.
Anyway, Bloggie, I've been lazy all day, sipping Coca-Cola and watching Invader Zim. Summer is the best, but I think I might have to be responsible (UGH) and start on that APEC Project. God, sometimes I want to strangle a mammoth with a churro, homework makes me so mad!
Andrew called me begging to come and see me. I'll be honest, Blogg, I might just break up with him. I know it's just a cheesy line ("It's not you, it's me") but it's true. I think my junk food is making me lazy, therefore I don't want to see him out of sheer laziness, therefore I get used to not seeing him, therefore I don't like him. Maybe I should quit eating junkie food then, because when I'm alone I'm pissed that I don't have a guy. And by a guy, I mean a tall, kind, nice guy. (Which means back off Cody, Trev, and Paul.)
I guess I'm a bitch sometimes. I mean, I bet a lot of girls wish a few guys liked them. But I swear, Andrew's getting pissed and Cody, and so I am. He's such a creep! He follows me around and grabs me at random times and drags me into conversations I don't want to be in... ugh.
So, Bloggie, I have to clean up my room or else Dad will bitch at me and not buy me Golden Spoon, which is like my crack. Peace.

UGH. The baby's crying and everyone is ignoring him. JENNNNNNNNNN, GO GET YOUR BABAHHHHHHHHH. He needs nummy grubbins and Barney.
I came to a sad conclusion. All the people I draw are too pretty. Every time I do a self portrait I end up drawing a supermodel, where I am everything but perfect looking in reality. I need to learn how to draw baby fat and messy hair and tired eyes.
I haven't slept for a day and it's really bugging me. I'm having trouble breathing, so I guess it's my body's hint to STOP GODDAMN TYPING AND GO TO BED.
But I don't wanna :( there's so much to do. Besides, it's nine thirty in the morning. It's too early/late.
I have a peculiar habit, Bloggie. I sleep during the day and stay up during the night. I mean, for real. Even on school nights. I don't know why, but I hate mornings and early afternoons for some reason. I don't feel well until it's dark, and then I'm awake.
Don't get me wrong, Bloggie; I'm not one of those retarded goth Green Day idiots. I don't love the dark- in fact, I'm quite afraid of it. I'm always sure something's out to murder me. I think some people are just born nocturnal. It wouldn't surprise me.
Well, Bloggie, normally before I go to bed, I take a shower, drink some water, and snuggle up with my snuggly Freddy Krueger jacket. But I'll skip the shower for today.
There's not that much else to say here except for nighty night!

Summer!

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! It's SUMMMMMMMMEEEERRRR!
Summer is all me time. Me, me, me, me, me! I don't care how selfish and conceited I sound- I don't ever have to devote anymore time to freshman year! I'm not a n00b anymore! Hurray!
Being a sophomore is going to be hard work, though. I'll have my AP class which will assign work like a bitch, along with my Honors Humanities. I'll also have to harass freshman even though they'll probably already be bigger than me. It's a tough job.
But for now, I have my tea, my chips, and my computer. I can relax and draw anything I want. I can read Harry Potter until I'm sick- I can play Harvest Moon all day. I can ignore my AP project until the last two weeks and then scramble to finish it.
Ah, summer!
I do have responsibilities, though. I have your average teenage Hollywood life- a tall, great boyfriend, a messy room with a parent nagging me to clean it up, a nephew to love and occasionally babysit. Not to mention I have to eat all sugar in the house to make sure no one else gets fat.
So, since this is my first blog, I guess I have to talk about me. Which is easy; I am quite fine with ranting about myself.
I'm Katie, a short blonde sophomore, born and bred in California. I've got a best friend- Mikaela, and my boyfriend Andrew. I'm stubborn. And I like tomatoes.
What else is there to say?
I guess I can say I hate homework. I mean, they gave us maps to do, an outline, an essay, twenty-three questions, and a chapter to read in APEC! It's summer! Homework should be illegal- it kills trees.
I'ma go kill some puppies. Peace.