I'm One

Humidity hung thick, as we walked back down the street to find the deli for more beer. The empty blocks of warehouses covered in graffiti and piss reverberated as I yelled how all I wanted were some drugs, please. I guess it wasn't really helping the situation, as we stumbled 200 feet behind a friend and her two acquaintances (allegedly I kicked one of the acquaintances in the head, after announcing that I wouldn't), making sure not to draw any attention to ourselves. They disappeared into a store about a block ahead of us, which we followed them into.

WE HAD FOUND IT.

THE CLOSEST DELI.

Yeah, I know. Pretty anti-climactic. Sorry about that. I wanted to draw you guys in, I guess. I'll recap the last few months as quick as I can:

-dated really sweet guy, forced to break up with him because he was too needy

-dropped acid for the first time--I now understand the squirrels (we climbed trees all day in Central Park)

-ran out of speed

-bought pot for the first time in ages

-offered speed by a friend, who sadly ended up leaving for a trip before I could procure it from her

-was given NuVigil by another friend to help counteract the inability I have to being awake before 12:30

-and am now sitting here... recuperating from a night of beer, punk shows, and fights (not me fighting, but everyone else around us, at one point I was in a hallway with a fight going on at each end).

I've been journaling a lot, sadly not on here. (by a lot, I mean for the past few days on the train).

I'm gonna keep posting stuff here though. I'm just bored, and empty. Like, it's not the depression kind of empty, it's the when-I-look-to-gage-my-emotions-there-doesn't-seem-to-be-any-occurring empty. I'm excited to try the NuVigil, I just need to entertain my brain some more. I'm hopefully getting money to buy coke with this week. My friend has really good connects, and so I'm going to share a bit with her as a finders fee. I figure that's only fair, seeing as how she's working at this cafe with me, and new hires don't get paid for like a month and a half after they start. I don't know, I'm hoping that will entertain me for long enough.

Anyway, I'm mad tired, and distracted by some crazy vampire movie on SyFy...

I'll post later after I try the NuVigil and maybe about the acid.

Night kids!

- Lucy

P.S. Anyone get raptured yesterday?

I got a Gibson, without a case, but I can't get that even-tanned look on my face, ill-fitting clothes and I blend in the crowd, fingers so clumsy, voice too loud, but I'm one, I am one, and I can see that this is me, and I will be, you'll all see I'm the one...

To be Young (Is to be sad, Is to be high)

I turned off all the lights. The only light was from the computer and the TV--of course on mute.

"To Be Young" is the only sound. Running my fingers through my hair, I turned on the light.

I usually get high at night. In fact, I really only get high in the evening/night. I like the alone time, in the darkness, no one there to bother me. That is the one bad thing about me and like speed because damn, it is stupid to do speed in the evening. It wasn't the clean all night feeling I got from E, it felt dirty. I felt the sweat pouring off my body noticeably. Now obviously, my speed is a lot less combinations of drugs than E. But still, that's uncomfortable.

Honestly, I know why I'm getting high tonight. It's because I just have been seriously hating myself for the past few days. I feel like my self-loathing creeping up my back, over my shoulder, and around my neck. Today's started with the fact that, honestly, P does not fuck me as much as I would like. Perhaps it the age difference? Perhaps he doesn't think I want to? But, it makes you feel like a royal asshole trying to lead someone on, and they are unresponsive. We only fucked like TWICE. GODDAMNIT, I AM 19, THAT IS NOT ENOUGH. Haha, seriously though, now I have to like talk to him about it, which is fine, it's not that big a deal, but still kind of sucks. And then he kind of nicely hinted that he wanted me to leave. Granted, I did spend the night and stayed at his place until like 6 or so the next day. He is my boyfriend, and he does have to go to bed early since he does go to work at 3 am, and I'm sure he just wanted some time alone before he went to sleep... yeah, alright. So, that actually makes sense. I just don't want to feel like I'm somehow hassling him with my presence. I don't know. We're hanging out on Friday. Whatever. I still feel shitty. I will feel the same when whatever I decide to pop wears off. And now maybe I won't. Maybe I'll go to sleep. It's more of a thing taking them the actual effects of the drug.

Well, I'm going to go decide and either way just lie down.

Goodnight...

- Lucy

Hightime

I'm high. My mosquito bites are itching like no other. That's what you get for smoking weed in the woods at dusk. It's alright though. I kinda forced my friend to go to the woods to smoke, I like it there. It's quiet and calm, lots of bunnies and raspberry bushes. When I was a kid, my best friend's family always went hiking in the woods every weekend and I'd go with them. Walking across fallen trees, and picking berries, and running after the dogs. I know being from New Jersey, people don't think of that kind of shit, but that's how my child hood was. That's how my town is. It's all surrounded by woods. Behind my friend's house, there's a reservoir in the middle of the woods. We went swimming there a week ago. We smoked right before, and I only went in to my waist. I don't like how weed makes me feel anymore, almost ever. It makes me want to curl up in a ball and sleep, I sweat, feel like I'm gonna puke. I don't know why.

Mike and I aren't dating anymore. He relapsed. He didn't tell me. A mutual friend did after we broke up. The last time we were dating and hanging out, I knew he was high. His eyes were pinned from first seeing him. When we were on the bus, he said he had some oxy. He then proceeded to show me the pills as we sat side by side. I didn't really want to do them. And I said that. But I also didn't want HIM to do them, however, I knew not to say that. If you've had your mind set on it, you're bound to do it. He popped them both in front of me. Now, first off, he called them "roxy" which they're not. They're not roxycodone, which I did a few years ago, they're little blue coated pills--with an ambien like shell. They're oxy. The same kind I did tonight. Fuck man, I don't even know if I want to continue this story. He scratched his stomach until it bled later on. He dumped over the entire ash tray as he nodded off. He treated me like shit. I would rather been booted in the face, than go through that again. Fuck. Whatever. I saw him two weeks later at this big show they have every year in NYC, called "Punk Island." It's fun. Hot. Poorly planned. But free. It's fucking punk island, you can't expect much more. He was surprised when I wasn't "friendly" towards him. His eyes were pinned. He looked at me dull and glazed, and I threw fire at him. I didn't want to see him.

I haven't been high in a long time. On oxy. I did try speed for the firs time like a week ago. And when I said speed. I mean SPEED. Dextroamphetamine. Actually, I got a hold of some shit from the 70s, these dexamyl capsules. What they are is a combo of dextroamphetamine and amobarbitol. Basically, the speed keeps you wired/happy/talkative, while the barbiturate keeps the edge off and is supposed to help you get to sleep. Well, I was up for like over 24 hours, by the end I wanted to kill everyone in sight. C'est pas bon. I don't know, I have two more, I told my friend that we'd do them for this concert that's coming up in August. Should be interesting if nothing else.

Also, the most interesting news of recent, is that I am dating someone new. I'll call him P. He's cute, funny, driven (he's in 3 fucking bands, and has a full time job, and does stand up comedy), 28, and super fucking nice to me. I mean, he's just an all around great guy. Which is what I need after all of Mike's drama. But he only like smokes weed and drinks beer. So, I don't want to do drugs while with him... this is the first time. I got it in my head. I had a pill. Whatever. Just once, without talking to him or anyone else (besides all of you... or just myself... or whoever ends up reading it), isn't so bad.

I feel shitty about myself. I guess. I don't know how I landed him. Everyone is so fucked up and yet not. I've made some more friends in the punk scene, which is cool, and I guess normal. There's this one girl though, she reminds me of my friends from high school who were all super druggies. Like, I have to say, I have a sense about teenage girls who do drugs. There is just a vibe. I don't know. This morning I woke up. P laid there curled up facing away from me. It was one of his two days off per week, I wanted to let him sleep. I looked at him though, and I just felt like he didn't want me (now remember he's sleeping) to touch him. Like he just wanted to get away from me. And I laid there, and thought to myself Yeah, you're just a junky piece of shit. He doesn't want to be anywhere near you, you junky piece of shit. ETC. ETC. ad infinitum. That's the one mantra that I have. It fucking goes off whenever I feel unwanted. I do believe it and I don't. It's strange. I feel good though. For now. Fuck I feel good. It doesn't bother me right now. Nothing does. I feel a bit guilty, or I will, or I did, but right now I don't.

I watched the skyline pass by my train window tonight. The sky was a green gray and I felt like it all made sense. Because it does. I am home. Here. America. New Jersey. My hometown. New York City. And as I sit besides my friend on the curb side, her head sagging against her knees and she drunkenly sleeps, I know that there is no other place for me to go. I am simply here.

I hope you all have a lovely 4th of July!

This probably is super disjointed. I will add more sense to it sometime this week. I promise. I'm going to try and blog once a week from now on. I think it's good for me.

Check ya later,

- Lucy

Like a Rolling Stone

My boyfriend isn't talking to me at the moment. He is sleeping or resting... his excuse? "I was up late last night on acid." I'm sorry, but that's a shitty excuse. I don't get why he would think this is an acceptable reason to not be talking. I mean, I'm not saying that how you feel after doing acid is a totally social one, much more about sleeping and chilling, but I don't like being put on the back burner. I've been up since 7:40 am, biked around 10 km into the wind (you don't think that's important until you feel like you're being pushed backwards by the hand of Zephyr), and eaten an assortment of different foods. I'm sorry, but if I can be awake, then he should be. I know he doesn't mean anything by it, and it's not a personal thing, but it still pisses me off because I make myself available to him, even though he doesn't seem to give a shit. So... yeah, I guess I just have to remind myself this isn't directed at me, it's just how it is.

My face is sun-burned... I have a black eye. Well, a bit of a black eye. It's not a very badass story, it's not much of a story at all, really. I couldn't get my eye makeup off because I didn't have any makeup remover, and so I attacked my face with a towel. Now the area under my right eye is swollen and raw. La Rochelle and Ile de Ré was beautiful. The water was cold, as the Atlantic always seems to be (being from NJ, and having felt it also in Ireland). The towers and buildings had stood since the 1400s and 1600s, raising up above the blue water like sand castles. It was picturesque. Quaint. The people were a lot friendlier, although the drunk assholes on the street were just like Paris. I think it's a French thing to be loud and obnoxious for no reason. My friends and I were all having a good time on the metro until about 40 guys came on to our car. They were all French, but of African descent, and were obviously out enjoying their Saturday night. Suddenly, one guy started to grab this girl by the waist, putting his hands all over her; she--luckily--was not gonna take it. She pushed him off and grabbed her friend and got off the train. Another guy then begins to yell at the gropey one, and we watch as a fight begins to ensue in between the area where my friends are all sitting. I'm watching this, trying to keep my face completely immune to the scene, while secretly horrified and terrified. At the next stop, half of them ran out (along with the gropey guy), and I imagined this was when the gropey guy was gonna be beat up, so hopefully he got what he deserved. I just hate the shear lack of respect for women here, it seems to be all Frenchmen. It seems like they feel entitled to some kind of sexual response from all women. I don't get it. Probably never will. It pisses me off though. It makes me wanna show them the error of their ways. It's one of the major reasons I dislike France.

One of the perks of going away was time away from work, so I read one of my new favorite books: Forced Entries by Jim Carroll. Technically, I was reading it for school, but it was amazing. I love it. I love Jim Carroll. To me, he is the mind of New York. As I read, I listened to the Velvet Underground, the band that truly is magic if you listen to it as you walk down the streets. You feel their high, and slowly your feet are lifted off the ground and wherever you're walking, is perfect, you're perfect, and you can feel the pulse of chance down every street and avenue. I want to get back to the City. I've realized why I don't like Paris. For me, New York is a place of possibilities. Every time I end up walking around, something occurs, and my friends and I are off on an adventure. As we trek from borough to borough, drunk, or high, or simply confused we meet the characters that now make up our late stories. The strange nomads and pansexual EMTs, the smack heads and squatters (usually, one in the same), and at the same time we meet our own opportunities for a breath of a new life. Suddenly, we're climbing over subway turnstiles and stumbling home, walking the dark streets of Brooklyn or Staten Island or occasionally Manhattan, home. When we arrive, we recount, and lay down, and fall into the lap of the City that will create us anew in the morning, ready for that day. I'm ready to be back home and feel the beat of life beneath my sneakers.

I'll check you later,

- Lucy

I'm not down!

Apparently people are reading this right now, and I'm posting because my afternoon class was cancelled and I need to make up for my lack of writing lately.

Life is crazy as the semester is winding down. It's the sam

e old same old, lots of papers and tests, and shit I don't wanna do. I should be making straight A-/As this semester, so hopefully that'll get me into the Dean's Circle (it's an organization for people who have a certain GPA, we get to go on a trip and stuff, but only a few people are selected for it)... At the moment, I'm working on a paper about Jim Carroll, one of my favorite poets/singers/authors. We have to pick a famous (and

dead) person to show "our" Paris, too. They're always making us right bullshit about Paris and our experience here and blah blah blah. It's as if they imagine that if we all write about Paris, maybe we too could be a modern Ernest Hemingway or something. This only inflates the heads of all of the boys here who already think they are him.

Mike's alright. He was going to meetings, but some girl said she would give him two bags of H if he could get her a needle. So... yeah, what'd you think he did?

Devinez! Devinez!

If you guessed shot two bags of smack on Sunday, well, you'd be correct! Good job!

What I think is funny is that when he does things like sign off immediately, or a few other tell tale actions, that I don't realize what's going on. When he did that, or talks about watching his friends do drugs, well, no shit he's doing them too. Boys are dumb...

At the moment, I'm not doing drugs. Although, he's now offered to get us H for when I get back, which is kind of putting me in a weird place.

On one hand I think: Wow, this would be awesome... I really wanna do it.

On the other I think: Fuck, terrible idea. This will only screw me up.

I don't know, I can't tell if the two bags he was talking about were the ones he has, or ones he plans on buying. I'm not gonna say anything about it to him, even if he brings it up. I refuse to let him know what I'm thinking about shit like that, mostly because: A) if you're doing drugs with a boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse/life-partner, you definitely don't want to be the one who does not have the connections because that makes you vulnerable... and B) he supposedly wants to be clean, so I don't want me giving him the OK to go ahead and get more drugs. I'm not saying that I control his actions, but it could be the push he needs to go buy more shit, and I'd like to keep myself out of that position. Haha, I know that the A reason is pretty far down the line, but I like to be

logical, and that definitely could be a reality. The other problem with Mike and I doing drugs is that he completely discounts my experience. This is coming from the same guy who couldn't fix himself the first time at fucking 19, I was doing that at 16 by myself. He can barely handle seeing blood. I may not have sunk as low as him, but just because I have been better able to keep myself out of the places he's ended up doesn't mean that my experience is completely void. I just hate being treated like I'm some kind of unexperienced child, and he's some kind of sage-like figure. Fuck that shit.

I haven't slept for the past two nights, and I have almost no homework, so I'm thinking that today I could just fucking kick back, take some shit, and not do shit for the rest of the day. Besides doing laundry, which needs to be taken care of today... or I'm gonna, well, begin to smell... not really. I just will have to wear my less desireable clothes, haha. Not that I'm some kind of pinnacle of fashion, fuck, everyone here thinks they're soo fancy. It's kind of nauseating. I really wanna vomit on a lot of them. Especially some of the Europeans, who think that they are just so above all the Americans, it's really ridiculous--as if France was some kind of pinnacle of good living, let's look at one of the most racist, anti-semetic, and judgmental countries I've ever been to. It's honestly offensive. It also has some of the scariest men ever, I have never feared men, not pulling my drunk friend off of Avenue B at 12 at night, not walking down Jersey St. on Staten Island at 3 am, it was never like this, where every man I see I am afraid is either gonna yell at me, or throw water on me (as one did), or simply give me creepy stares.

I want to get back to NYC! Summer in the city, that's all I want. = )

Well, I'm gonna go do more nothing,

I'll check ya later,

- Lucy

P.S. the first photo is of Mike and I... he will try and say that he's not extremely mushy... but he is (I consider that photo, exhibit A). And the second one is actually of me back home at Dunkin Donuts!!! I miss it so much...

Junky Puppy

Sitting in the bathroom next to the heater, I watched his head go down slowly to his chest. The spliff in his hand spiraling out waves of smoke. I watched him, quietly. He looked so innocent and adorable, like a puppy. He slowly opened his eyes again and took a pull from the spliff and then passing it to me. The codeine had surprisingly worked on him. I was impressed. He had taken about 9 of them, so I wasn't that surprised, I had taken 8. We ended up curled up in bed watching the Dark Knight. Alright, well, technically I only listened to the Dark Knight. He would occasionally say something to me, and I would force myself to respond.

I miss him not being here, it really sucks that he had to go back to New York. We had a whole talk one night in a park for hours just about random drug-related crap. I worry about him being out there. It really makes his depression worse. He told me that he doesn't want to go back on H though because he doesn't want to be trapped in NY. He's so sweet, it sucks that he's really in that mental bind. He keeps talking about marriage. We'll see. = )

School's crazy right now. Literally insane. I feel like I'm back at the shore being crashed on by the waves, struggling to keep up above the cresting waves. I think that I might get an A- in French, so that'll be good. Last semester I beasted my classes, I got straight A-s and then an A in the preliminary French class. My GPA was a 3.73 out of a 4.0. Trust me, it's pretty crazy, it's the highest one of I've heard out of anyone.

My friend from home is coming in on Sunday, so I gotta start thinking of things to do with her during the week and stuff. My midterms are coming up, I have one on Tuesday and then a paper and a exam the next week, and then the week after that I have my big exam in social. Kind of crazy, but I'll make it through.

All the papers I've written this semester for writing have been about drugs, haha. It really entertains me which is kinda fucked up. I'm writing my next paper about "rebellion," so that'll be interesting.

Anyway, I'm going to go back to...

whatever the fuck I do on a Friday at noon,

- Sarah = )

Seeing as how I haven't posed in forever... I thought I might.

I'm at school at the moment. I've got a raging cold (which obviously is just adding to my mood, seeing as how I have to be awake everyday at 7:30 to get to French class on time) I'm trying to finish shit up, while also having enough patience to walk out of the school and buy food.

Weird day, I don't know.

Mike is here, we've now been dating for 7 months... which is kinda insane, but awesome. Things can be really rough, because he has a bad temper, and I say a lot of stupid shit that inflames it, but beyond a few small arguments the first week we're good.

We're going to Amsterdam on Thursday night until Saturday night, so that should be interesting. It's just me and him, which freaks me out, but I feel alright with because I'm trying to trust him. Yeah... I'll report after that, at the moment I don't have much to say and really dont' like blogging at school.

Catch y'all on the flipside!
- Lucy

I'm dating a junkie...

My boyfriend has been doing heroin since I've been gone. He's shot 80 bags in the span of a month or so. He told me on Tuesday night... I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about it. It's just like a very confusing thing emotionally. I'm really happy that he told me. I'm angry because he was saying all this nice shit while he was high, and that could've just been the drugs. I'm super pissed that he blew his money on dope and now may not be able to come to Paris in February. I'm also annoyed that I worried about him when he said he was getting sick and shit, thinking he was actually sick, but it was probably just dope. Mostly, I'm worried about him. Everyone I know is telling me to dump him. He quit on Saturday and I think he's doing a lot better today, didn't say he was feeling sick or anything.

This whole thing is just busting me. I don't know what to think, or how to feel. He told me he loved me last night. I believe it. I love him, too. It's just hard to put everything together, it's not nice little boxes. He also reminded me that he had warned me before I left, which I think is really not a good excuse. Yeah, he warned me, and I knew it was possible, I was really worried about it, but that doesn't mean I was mentally prepared for it to happen.

Anyway, if I get back in January, and he hasn't stayed clean, then I'm gonna dump his ass. I know that junkies only love junk, and I'm not gonna be the third wheel to heroin.

So, yeah, that's been my week. I also had midterms, think I did well, sorry for my suckage at posting shit.

Later!

Love you guys!

- Lucy B.

Because this is kind of a downer, I'm putting in some pics of me with my new pink hair... because, yeah. Don't want to bum you guys out.

27 days of sickness...

My nose hurts. And my stomach hurts... luckily, it has calmed down since earlier. It was really bad and just kind hit me suddenly as we were walking around the flea market. My stomach went, and then the sweats hit me, and then I was dizzy and knew it was time to go. I hurried home, having to convince my friends that I had to get back, and stripped out of my clothes and changed into my shorts/t-shirt. I laid down on my bed and tried to calm myself down and make sure I didn't puke my guts out... I don't know what I did to deserve those feelings today, but obviously my body was UNHAPPY.

I went to an infoshop yesterday and picked up different zines and other publications about the anarchist and punk scene in Paris/France. It's cool shit, only one was in English, but the rest is in French, so I mostly understand it... mostly.

I bought Mike a postcard from the anarchist bookstore, which was someone hooked up to an IV filled with money, and the line was being clipped. Today he had an endoscopy, and so he was feeling really weird today when we talked, just a bit under the weather and shit. He said that the only thing that hurt was the IV in his hand, so at least that was the only thing that really bothered him. I miss him... he's so cute.

Last night I got a bit drunk on some vodka and beer... and while I was drunk I remembered why I dislike drinking and why it's bad for me to drink... BAD. Because, I drink one glass and I'm not drunk enough, so I have another glass so that I feel a bit more drunk, and then blah blah blah I feel like shit. So, yeah, no more boozin. I'm afraid of latching onto alcohol...

UMM... nothing else is happening. I bought a leather jacket and took out the shoulder pads, so it's looking pretty snazzy. Anyway... I'm bored and Mike is being kinda douchey so I gotta snap him out of it.

Talk to you all tomorrow!

- Lucy! = )

25 days... so you get a video?!

DON'T WATCH THIS IF YOU ARE AN ALCOHOLIC

YOU WILL BE OFFENDED.

DON'T READ THE REST OF MY BLOG POST, IN FACT...

YOU MIGHT BE OFFENDED AGAIN.

So... today I was done early with classes because I had my exam today. Basically, I got home around like 12:30 and have just been chilling out ever since. Cooked some lunch, put the dishes away, and put more money on my phone... Today is blah. I don't like how my brain is beginning to lean towards alcohol as a way to calm itself. That whole flipping the switch thing is something I wanna keep away from alcohol, 'cause that's just a bad bad trap I could fall into. Honestly, I should really stay away from that and oddly enough caffeine. I have begun to drink coffee as if it were a drug, and I just want to feel that burst of energy... BAD. So, in short, anything addictive I gotta keep away from my body for the next I'd say month or so at the least, just to make sure I really will be alright. I know that once I get over this first hump of shittiness, staying sober will become a lot easier task, it's always those first few months that can really make or break you.

Also, just so you can see my man, here's a pic of us together:

Yeah... we're cute like that. = P

Anyway, I'll probably update in a bit, out of boredom.

Check ya guys later!

- Lucy = )

24 days of greatness!

Today was awesome! I got another test back, and it was another A! Yeah, I kind of knew I wasn't bad at languages, but I feel really competent right now. Mike (my anarchist, cleaned-up-heroin-addict, 22 year old, boyfriend) distracted me for a good 2 hours of time telling me all the things he wanted to do to me over the internet. I love him, what can I say?

It's weird because I'm not used to knowing junkies, I've known a few and they were mostly all cleaned up, or I wasn't aware of them doing the drugs they were doing at the time. It's cool because I am really honest with him about what I'm thinking, but I think that he kind of shrinks away from it. I don't know, that bothers me a bit, but I don't wanna fuck up his sobriety by making him think about it too much. When I first met him, like the 2nd or 3rd date? I told him about how I got my scar and shit, and he said A) he had never met a girl who had shot dope, and B) he had never met anyone who shot pills. That kinda surprised me, haha. So, I think, that, it was two firsts for both of us: I was meeting a junky that I was actually friends with, and he was meeting a girl junky.

Hahaha, I know, how romantic?

But, I gotta keep myself away from thinking about us doing drugs together, although I like it. We've only smoked weed together, besides once when we did E with his sister and her husband. Weed isn't much of a turn on, 'cause it's not much of a drug. But watching him snort the E, it was hot, I wanted to prove to him like: yeah, I can keep up with you, we're drug-equals. Maybe it's the whole thing that I never talked about my drug use until after my real everyday slog of drugs was over with, and so I now wanna brag... But not much to brag about?

I had a really bad period this summer. I came into a lot of oxy. And everytime I would get it, I would do one medium sized line... and then the next day I would do one line, and then do another line an hour later. Until, I would have a fucking pile and 4 hours it would be all up my nose. I also broke out my old kit, but the works were too gunged up to be used... thank god, I guess. I probably would've been in a worse predicament. I think that Mike may have noticed the few little bruises and bumps that occurred, but I think he just thought it was part of the larger scar there. It's such a fucked up area, which is good because it disguises bruises really easily, you can't tell besides like that first day. I haven't shot up in... like a year and a half. Holy fuck, seems like forever ago and like yesterday.

This woman had to draw blood out of my arm one morning, and she really fucked it up. I don't even mean like a little pricks, it was as if she had never tried to hit a vein before. Okay, so I know the veins in my right arm are hard to hit. I'm pretty sure I've cried out of frustration trying and failing to hit any in that arm. So, after digging, and I mean, re-angling the needle while it was still in my arm, she moved on to my forearm. Now, maybe I'm allowed to shove a needle all the way through my own vein, but someone else isn't. She put the needle THROUGH my vein, and brought it back up to try and catch it. The bruise was huge and Mike was asking me where she tied me off and shit, haha, he was like: I could've done this for you, and I wouldn't have hurt you.

I know, I know, I shouldn't be so enamored of that... but I can't help it? I love drugs. I love him. Together, it just sounds like heaven. That's honeslty what I kept thinking after we fucked (well, I fucked) for the first time... the only thing that could make this better was a shot or a line... Damn. Now, that's saying something in my mind. If the only thing better than what just happened, is victory in drug form, then obviously, something is going right.

I feel like, though, at 18, I can't promise I'm not going to "experiment" with harder drugs than weed and X... I don't wanna do speed, not so good with the uppers. Coke is not good for me either. X was alright, but really fucks with me, I'd do it again, it's fun, but definitely not something I'd wanna do a lot. I wanna do H so bad, cause I know I'd enjoy it more than the other drugs that I'm gonna have to do instead.

I cried the other night thinking about a completely sober life, but today I feel like I could do it. I'm definitely getting the whole waves of depression. Last night was bad, today is alright, tomorrow who knows... I'm getting a little paranoid too, which isn't so awesome. I gotta remind myself though when I have those thoughts that it's just my brain reaching for something to get me back to doing drugs. I do wanna stay away for a few years, and see about really staying clean for a while, like getting through college. I mean, it scares the shit out of me, which I think is weird, but it's my biggest fear. No drugs. No relief from my emotions. That whole having to face shit and my mind doesn't work well, but I'm gonna try. Worse comes to worse I start using drugs again, not the end of the world, it's just a fact that I have to learn to live with, that I've fucked up my thought processes and that's the way it's gonna be probably the rest of my life.

But, if Mike gets back on heroin, which he has warned me might happen, I have two options: A) leave him if I don't plan on using with him because you can't really be sober dating a junky, I don't think that would work for me, or B) going down that path with him. I don't think I'll have to make that decision though anytime soon, haha, so I got time to decide if it does come to that. Hopefully it won't. Hopefully I'll adjust to the sober life and be a sober prospering person for the rest of my life... hahahaha, yeah, doesn't even sound real to me either.

Well, I don't know, I'm in a good mood tonight guys!

Love to all of your who are still here!

And anyone new!

- Lucy! = )

22 days of legitimate sobriety...

So... I haven't blogged in forever because summer was insane lots of boy shit lots of drug shit lots and lots of shit.

But I'm now in Paris, and I'll get back to what went on over in a bit for those of you who don't know. SO I'M HERE.

I am fiending. I am fiending like I always do without drugs for a long period of time. Not that I would really know what a long period of time is, I did like 3 months sober two springs ago, but I started up again because I just can't seem to stay away. Umm... so yeah, I'm stuck sober. And I guess I'm staying sober because I know that I can't do drugs around Mike, and I like him enough that that matters to me. Not that we're together right now, I just know that if I started doing anything serious back in NYC he would either begin doing it with me, or he would cut me off from him completely. That's the upside and downside to have a cleaned up junky for a bf. He pisses me off occasionally because he talks to me like I'm some little puppy, as if I didn't know that if I (me, not the general I) started doing smack I would get hooked. I wanted to be like: oh, thanks, because obviously I don't know how my own fucking brain works, and hadn't figured that out for myself before.

I see the junkies on the metro here, one guy had a really fucked up arm, scabbed up with shadows running all over it. I just sat there feeling sick, my stomach has been fucked up this week. Everything in my digestive tract seems to get liquified, I've been getting the sweats too, and feeling dizzy... WHAT THE FUCK? I really don't know what I did to my body, and why it's sending me these signals, which I usually translate into: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SHOVE THAT INTO YOUR BLOODSTREAM MORON? But at the moment, I'm clean... but it's bad.

I'm not clean for the right reasons, and I think this is gonna end in a crash and burn when I end up back in NYC... because right now all I wanna do is get high. I wanna get high so bad. I have a sleeping pill I swiped from this guy, he didn't want it, so I figured he wouldn't notice it was gone and def wouldn't blame me... I looked up what it was, sadly I gotta swallow it, but ehh, I figure I'll save it for a day that I'm in need.

I keep getting bad drugs dreams. They were bad in August, still bad now... I just miss drugs. I want them so bad. I don't want to have to deal with the inside of my mind. I just want to delete it all. I WANT TO HIT THE FUCKING BUTTON AND ERASE MY STUPIDITY AND MY ISSUES AND MY WANTS. I wanna pretend that I'm not me for the next few fucking hours and put my mind on hold.

I just told Mike I had a blog, not like he's ever gonna see this shit. And he was like: oook, straange. And I wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up, 'cause he can be faulted for a lot more shit than me blogging.

Sometimes, I just want to do smack just to spite him, just a little, just for him thinking he knows everything there is to know about me and drugs. We kind of admitted to each other that we wish we could just get high together and lay around in his apartment together... which could be followed by another story where I passed on nodding out with him there, which kind of sounds like the nicest thing ever. I'd love to wake up and see him there. I had my wisdom teeth out, and shit, anyway, I didn't do it, figured that A) I wouldn't be able to fuck and B) don't need to do that in front of him, when he's working hard to stay clean.

I'm thinking about December, going to TX, I know my family has some things to my liking in the medicine cabinet, I stole some last year... but I felt REALLY guilty. Like, probably the most guilt and embarrassment and shame I have ever felt in my life. I can't even explain it.

The other night I was laying in bed, and I was thinking about being sober, and how I could be possibly facing a life with no more opiates. ever. Never ever gonna feel it again. And I cried. I'm not even gonna lie and pretend like I can handle things like that normally, because apparently I can't. I can't do drugs like a normal person. I can't fucking handle anything. I fucking cried.

But I didn't tell Mike. I feel bad. I feel just ashamed that I'm so fucking weak.

Whatever.

I'm weak.

I'm 18 and I wanna 'experiment' (yeah, right, we can pretend it's experimentation, I'm still young enough to call it that)...

BTW, I STILL fucking hate uppers. I did x. WHY? Because well, Mike was doing it, and his sister and her husband were doing it, and it was fun... kinda. But my brain was like YOU ARE AN IDIOT, AND I'M DITCHING THIS SHIT. I swear to god my brain wanted to jump out of my fucking skull...

Well, anyway, I'm alone in Paris with my classmates... I'm a cleaned up junky... am I junky? WHAT THE FUCK AM I EVEN? I DON'T EVEN KNOW. I just want the wanting to stop. I want to be normal. I hate it.

Fucked up in the big city,

- Lucy...

I've been killing my brain cells!

I keep killing my brain cells. I won't have any by the end of senior year. I'm just bashing them into alcohol and weed and pills and whatever I can get my hands on. It's kind of entertaining. I like drinking and smoking and chilling out. I've been to a few parties recently... no shows, sadly... and a whole lot of couches. I'm out drinking the best of 'em and smoking with the platinum level stoners. It's come to the point now where my brain at the moment is just perpetually on the fritz, causing me some speech and spelling dumbness. I'm also way way sick.

Fuck, I have no idea what to talk about.

I went to the city and posted/handed out some fliers to some hot crusties (4 of 'em, who seemed quite into my birthday show). Oh, how I love them. I have to find a prom date now, not that they would be it, but I just thought of it. I have to get a dress, too, and shoes. Fuck, I have to do homework at somepoint this week. At least one thing is for sure, I'M GOING TO NYU. Yup, you're favorite little-junky-stoner-dumbass-punk kid. I'm such a weirdo, so its kind of the perfect place.

Fuck, I'm waking up early tomorrow, hopefully I'll find something for my brain to make this next  posting worth while.

Love you all!

Lucy

Sassafras Roots

I sat there on my bed, trying to figure out why no amount of intelligence could compensate for my complete and total ineptitude. Zack was sitting there telling me it was alright, and I knew he felt bad for me. I felt even worse for him, here he is, dating me; No amount of bravado and devil-may-care attitude could make up for my complete stupidity. At least, thats how I felt. I don't know why, but for me, there is this level of having to compensate for all insecurity with either a trump card on whatever subject or bravado. If its drugs, well, compared to all teens I know I can always win, but I don't usually pull it out; regaling others with stories of needles in arms and blood on the ceilings usually ends with the inevitable shunning. If its punk, well, I'm the young punk-poet of the scene, whose already been thanked in one album, has been told that she will have to play bass for a certain band at 21, and is always being handed beer by the bands headlining. If its school, I'm in all AP classes and headed off to stellar schools. But, sexually, well, fuck it, I have no experience. I can't even pretend at it, and I don't try to because it will end in me looking like a fool. Also, I usually play up my inexperience to be a good quality, giving my non-virgin friends shit.

In some ways, it's just me covering up for all of the areas that I lack in. Its weird, people consider me a role model, WHAT THE FUCK? I'm just good at covering up my flaws, I can make people laugh and I got enough charisma to bullshit my way out of most situations, but there are certain things that those things can't make up for.

I'm a nervous fucking person as well. Basically, what happened on Friday was my fault because I put pressure on myself to have sex, when I shouldn't have been doing that. I know it. I knew it. I'm just too much  of a coward to admit it to myself. I just hate how people fucking hold it over my head, it makes me want to bang there heads into the pavement (haha, a lot of the shit people do makes me have that reaction). I guess, in some ways, I don't want to be an 18 year old virgin, there is a stigma that I have placed on that, which is dumb. It's like living in your home town when you're middle aged to me is also failure. I do dumb shit like this in my head all the time.

Also, I guess, Zack's not a virgin, and I wonder what his last girlfriend was like. That bothers me. Like, what if he's always comparing me to her? Does he like me more? Etc. Etc. I'm making myself worry over shit that doesn't matter. And I know he really does care about me, everyone says it, everyone sees it, even I see it, I just can't be content being happy. Mostly I'm afraid I'm going to fuck this up, I mean, I've been able to get out of a lot of shit, but I worry about this.

And Zack doesn't seem to really care. Which is a good thing, don't get me wrong. But I just wonder shit, if he likes me as much as I like him, I used to think it was the other way around, but now I'm concerned. I miss him. I almost started to cry today because I just wanted him there to give me a hug and make me feel better. I worry I freak him out.

I'm worrying myself crazy over shit that he and I will both laugh about later.

Being a teenager, everything is filled with bits of tension and anguish at all of the things you don't know how to handle. Going to shows for me still ties my stomach in knots, I feel like I never know what's waiting for me up the stairs or down them, or just through the fucking door. You're constantly forced to prove yourself to your peers and adults and yourself, even. I don't feel confident half of the time with the shit I'm doing. And sexually, well, fuck it. I have no idea what to do. I mean, sure mechanically, I understand. But I have no idea in reality what I shoult be doing. Or what other people or doing or shit like that. I lose my cool. I become the loser that I am when shit like this goes down.

What is most upsetting to me are animals and the sluts at my school can do this, and I can't. And my IQ is way higher. Fuck. It's not fair. Why am I so fucking awkward? Why can't I be normal for 20 fucking minutes? Fuck it. I like myself, and I hate myself. I'm going to try not to delete this post.

After pit practice that night, Roma took me out for ice cream and we talked about it and she just consoled me and made me laugh. Then I went over to Lauren's and she did the same. Jordan kind of disturbed me, but he was just trying to help. Nina R also tried to consoled me, but talked down to me, and she doesn't really understand because she's always been more experienced than me since we were in middle school. I've known her for so long, and we've always been there for each other, especially on relationship issues, but she's always been leaps and bounds ahead of me. And the other Nina and I talked about not having sex with our more experience boyfriends, and laughed about it and shit. My friends really did help me not feel like a complete ass. Santina told me that I had the plot for a "coming of age" story, and if she only knew the half of it, haha. My laugh is a fucking made for TV movie.

Yesterday I had to get out of town, so my cuz came and picked me up and I stayed at his house in South Jersey. Basically, it's this big group of Texans who have all moved there from this company they used to work at in Austin, to one in NJ. They're all really cool and most know me fairly well. My favorite is this guy Matt, who was finally back after moving back to TX in April. I missed him. He was one of my favorites, we'd watch TV until 3 a.m.  and just shoot the shit. We did the same thing yesterday, until he had to leave around 12:45 while we were watching SNL. He also gave me some chocolate Sam Adams. I don't really like dark beers, but it was alright. There was a little bit of an after taste of tootsie roll, which was alright, haha. Then I had a Miller Light, which was alright. Not my favorite. I feel like beer cans have more drink in them than sodas, because I can finish a soda so easily, but when I drink a beer it just takes forever. We all watched Half Baked and chilled out. I got a little tipsy, the alcohol just made me a bit dumber and made it easier for me to laugh at all the ridiculous parts of that movie. I love Jim Breur... he's cute. I stayed the night and slept on the sofa next to a few cans of Miller. It was like some had lit a weird beer-candle, and if I lifted my head I just got a big whif of it.

Well, none of this is really important, I'm psyched about tomorrow cause we have no school due to snow. My friends are all excited about smoking a lot of weed and going sledding. I'm hoping to smoke myself stupid, to the point where it's a problem to coordinate your feet to walk and shit. That's the only kind of high I like. One of the reasons I used to not like weed was because it just didn't ever hit me hard enough. I need that deep fucking punch to the face. I know that I shouldn't be drinking and smoking away my problems. It's only partially that though, so I'm not going to worry that much. Anyway... nothing will ever be easy for me, haha, but one day it'll be better. I'm going to try and get over myself.

I love you guys!

I'm going to go sledding with Lauren, the Ninas, Sam, and Zack. I'm going to bake him some cookies, and be the cute, dutiful girlfriend that I am. Haha, or at least my attempt at it.

- Lucy = )

BTW, Melody, thanks for the comment before. It made me feel a bit better.

Elevation

It was a half day today, so we got out at 12... I filled up my car with gas at the sketchy gas station. I couldn't understand the Indian man with the really thick accent there. Situations like that intimidate me because I feel bad, having to say, "What??" After that ordeal, I landed at Lauren's house, and we waited and waited and WAITED for Nina to come over or for Zack to be ready. But, Lauren and I decided to fuck it and we walked out and started to smoke. However, her pipe is really shitty and hard to take big pulls off of, so we stopped and right as we did, Nina appeared with two joints. She wanted to hike up this big hill, but Lauren and I were both hesitant (it's the size of a mini-mountain, very stiff and slippery due to leaf litter, and we would be high). 

Anyway, we got outside and we went to this fort in the wood that the neighbors built. We got inside and smoked the two joints at the same time, which was hard and annoying. Haha, Lauren was impressed with Nina's "craftsmanship," because she used magazine for the filters. So, after smoking both of them we headed onward. After much climbing, and my own issues, as I tried to mount it on my hands and feet (I felt like such an animal, I was also positive I was gonna fall down and die, haha, but it was still fun). When we reached the top, which is near the road, we found some animal bones. As we dug them up it was really funny, because this man legit slowed down to a stop and just stared at us. We all decided that he might be about to call the cops, so we better get the last of the bones and head back down. (During this time we also had to keep stopping Nina from lighting the woods on fire, haha). 

We got home and ate cheese doodles (which are apparently MADE OF REAL CHEESE, which was an exciting discovery, haha) and we watched dumb videos on youtube which were supposed to "enhance" our high and make the walls move and shit. It did that somewhat, but it was hard for me to focus on it and I kept getting distracted. Also, there was one where the guy kept talking and I couldn't handle it, I was laughing hysterically and shit. IT WAS RIDICULOUS. After way too much of that, I decided that it was 3 and I better get home to do homework and practice bass and go to pit practice. 

Zack was still MIA until I was driving home when he texted me. I kind of fought with him last night, and was in a shitty mood. I felt bad taking it out on him, but I didn't on some level. He kind of deserved it. He didn't understand that the fact that he didn't give me my Valentine's present wasn't about WHAT it was, but that he got it thinking of me. Also, I mean, it's super late. Apparently he spent 30 dollars on it, or at least that's what Lauren remembers him saying.

Today at school, due to African American History month, we had some of the African American students speak and we had a reverend speak. This one guy did, whose super cool, and everyone loves him. I could definitely see him as the president of the United States, he's so charismatic and intelligent, we've always believed that he would become a politician. The Reverend sucked balls, he had no idea what to say, and you could see he was freaking out. This other girl sang and she was AMAZING. It was so impressive. My friends thought it was actually pretty good, which I was surprised about, seeing as how my friends can have a hard time taking stuff like that seriously.

I have pit practice later... ugh... I haven't practiced at all. I am so lazy in that respect. I haven't done any homework either and I'm still a bit high. It's hard for me to handle focusing on shit when I'm this tired. I think I'm gonna nap for 30 minutes and then practice... and then eat...

FOOD. haha. Oh man, I'm going to have no brain cells by the time I'm 20...

I reminded Nina to pay back the other Nina, because she shorted her about 7 bucks, and it was a sale. I feel bad when I tell people shit like that because occasionally they get offended when I'm like, "Yo, so and so was talking about you doing this, and you need to fix it before they get pissed." I can't help it, when I'm high I just want to play the middle man, but it can be bad.

Anyway, I'm going to go and take a nap or watch tv, and waste some more of my time. I'll take pictures of the bones once they are bleached.

Love,

- Lucy = )

I tried to find videos of "Elevation" by Television, but all of the ones on youtube aren't the real band or are of U2... how lame. Anyway, you should look up Television, one of my favorite bands and Tom Verlaine, the lead singer, is from my hometown. = )

Strange

It's not really how I feel. I feel like reality is biting me in the ass. I woke up at 7:30 this morning, feeling like a combination of booze, candy, and pills were about to jump out of stomach (kinda hoping they would, seeing as how I felt like I was dying). Yeah, I was a dumbass and now I feel really shitty and I don't plan on doing that ever again. Tanzen mixed the remainder of our vodka with cranberry juice and mandarin orange seltzer... IT WAS NASTY. Anyway, I drank it... enough of it, to get me close to drunk, but not (as Santina would describe my antics occasionally) "WASTED!!!". Santina, Tanzen, Ned, and I went out to dinner last night and then hung out around the Village. We went to my favorite record shop "Bleaker Street Records" and then we went to Ned's house. Walking down St. Mark's we saw some Crustys that I had kinda met at a show at ABC No Rio at the WWIX show there a month ago, or so. One of them talked to me, and was kind of cute. I don't have a problem with crustys, some people really don't like them, but they don't bother me. We're just different styles really, that's the major difference. I was saying that to them as we walked West and they walked South towards the LES. I forgot to tell you guys that I'm the leader of the GB Crew, which is my crew of friends. Basically, my goal with our crew is to A) have an awesome time, B) eliminate "Archey" from our shows, C) protect the teenagers (especially the youngsters, like 14/15 year olds) from assholes like "Archey" beating them up, and D) make ourselves kind of like staples of our shows. Tanzen says I'm a born leader, I don't know if I'd agree with that, but I like to imagine that it's true. Anyway, the GB Crew is going to keep making the NYC punk scene as awesome as we can.

I am just feeling shitty, my stomach hurts, my head doesn't feel great and I keep having nasty dreams about getting caught with drugs or doing drugs... or something.

Two nights ago I dreamed that my father was going to give me a drug test requiring a urine sample. But, my rents left the house? And suddenly I was alone, and there was this bong for some reason, but it was like a graduated cylinder at the same time (dual functioning bong and graduated cylinder... for the stoner in every scientist). Inside of it there were tablets or pills or something, for a reason I don't know. Anyway, it was very bizarre, and then I woke up and shit. Then last night, I had a dream about my father coming into my room. I was laying in my bed and he was talking to me. I was talking about how I was feeling really bad and my stomach really hurt. He then replied with something about how it was going to hurt one of us more (I can't remember which one of us) and that I was going to get a blood test tomorrow. I'm so glad that that was just a dream. Fucking, obnoxious shit. I don't quit worrying until I'm in the clear for testing negative for any drugs that I've used in urine or blood tests.

This nausea is shitty at the moment. I feel kind of like just laying in a ball and not moving, but I want to finish up my homework and then see Zack. He's gonna give me my Valentine's day gift today. = ) I think its either flowers or a teddy bear (I kinda asked for the bear, because I saw it when we went out to dinner, and it was adorable and cliched and shit... and I wanted it!) mostly because he refused to put it in his backpack and bring it into school. I played him a song... and gave him the CD "Lust for Life" by Iggy Pop (I wanted to give him the Buzzcocks album "Singles Going Steady"). I played him the song "Love You More" on guitar... and it was really awkward, but fun kind of. I get embarrassed easily when it comes to lovey-dovey shit. He thought it was "cute." Haha, I guess that's what I'm aiming for.... or something? I have no idea, I'm bad at being all cutesy and shit.

My one teacher yelled at me in the hallway for missing her class 4 or 5 times. Not, 7 or 8, not 10 or 12, 4 OR 5 TIMES. This woman is on crack. I think she thought I was cutting because my homeroom teacher thought I was on a field trip, so I don't know, maybe it came up that way. But I wasn't, I was legitimately sick. Only once did I cut her class, and that was a while ago. It was at least over a month ago. This woman is such a bitch, and I'm going to make her feel really shitty when I come in and tell her that it was for arthritis. Maybe that's a bitchy thing to do, but it's the best ammunition I got when it comes to teachers, because it's not a direct conflict, it just makes them feel bad. Honestly, making other people feel shitty is a lot more powerful than yelling at them, because that just makes them feel angry. I don't know. I was legitimately in a lot of pain, I have never missed school due to arthritis, besides last Thursday, because it really did hurt.

Anyway, I gotta get to doing homework.... because well... it's important? And I can't seem to be a slacker. It's just not in my nature, unless, I know it won't matter. So, I should go get on that. I also gotta make another GB Crew t-shirt, this will be the third. I gotta get some black pain to cover up part of this one because there's a design on it that she doesn't like.

Well, I'm off!

I hope y'all have a lovely Sunday and week until I'm back!

Love,

- Lucy = )

Give me the cure...

I've been home all day... my arthritis was so bad this morning and I decided to say fuck it, and after a few dirty looks from my mother and enough guilt to last me a few hours, I went back to bed. I exchanged the DC skate pants I had been wearing for my jammies, and headed to bed still wearing the pink dress that I like wearing over pants. And here I am, still in the pj bottoms and dress, with an ancient hoodie (I've had this shit since like 7th or 8th grade, haha). Well, after really waking up around 9:30 and finding myself in need of something a bit stronger than two tylenol (I don't know how normal people use that shit to ease their pain, I took some of the extra strength and I still felt like crap), I popped a few hydros and lounged around watching TV. My arthritis hasn't been this bad in my back in... well, honestly, it's never been this bad for this many days in a row. I've been trying to not play guitar and watch too much TV, instead of finishing up this book. I've only read like 60 pages, and I have 50 pages to go. The test I was supposed to take was moved to monday at lunch (THANK GOD, I WAS GONNA FAIL THAT SHIT). I'm hoping that my mom makes burritos for dinner... she let me and my dad pick, and he let me pick. I was really nice to him today, I was just too high and too out of it to care. The dog peed in the living room for no reason, so that was bad. It means that I lit a bunch of weird scents of incense (which was a recipe for disaster, yet I still did it), and now my  room is kind of irritating my throat and nose... yeah, I don't know why I did that... I lit the really odd strawberry incense that I got in Austin... it smells like shit, and yet I lit it... Haha, obviously, my mind was not completely thinking.

I kind of bitched out Zack last night, for no reason. But, I apologized, and he was still sweet as can be... I don't understand it. Haha, he's too good to me. Nina R was saying that he thinks so highly of me and not to blow it, etc. Which I thought about today, its one of the reasons I'm not honest with him about a lot of shit, because I feel like he thinks of me in a way that I don't want to lose. I say that I love Zack. I love him as a friend, and I couldn't ask for more in a boyfriend or any man. I guess, I don't know if I really "love him" though. He's just perfect, and I don't know what to think about it. Well, either way, I'm glad that he's mine. He's a great guy.

I'm going to go back to reading and listening to Fugazi...

I guess the reason that I fell in love with this song was because I discovered it after having arthritis for 2 years. As a 13 year old kid, I was angry and I didn't know why mostly. I knew that I was pissed that I wasn't normal, and that no one understood that. I knew that I was pissed at my father on some level, for making my mother be depressed. I knew that I was pissed because I felt like compared to all the money in the world, to me, I didn't mean shit to my dad. I guess that anger never really left and thats why this song is one of my favorites. Probably my favorite song ever.

I'm actually in a pretty good mood.

Have a good night guys!

- Lucy <3

Saturday Night

Tonight's my friend's 18th birthday party. I'm pretty psyched for that, gonna get all dolled up as follows: black-pinuppy dress (as shown), black fishnets, and either my doc martens or my yellow heels. I'm excited, and am demanding that Zack where a white button down shirt (hey, if I'm going to look nice, then he better too...). Zack thinks my fishnets are really hot. Who doesn't? Haha, okay, so if you can't tell I'm in a weird mood. I do have something interesting to say... but I wonder how much you really wanna hear about me being a dumb teenager... well, I guess that's why people read my posts... okay, so I will give you the details without being too tasteless....

THIS NEXT PART OF THE POST IS LACIVIOUS AND VERY TASTELESS. IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO HAVE YOUR MIND NOT VERY DISTURBED (BECAUSE I'M A TEENAGER) BUT STILL SOMEWHAT DISTURBED, THEN DO NOT GO FORWARD AND HIGH TAIL IT BACK TO SOMEONE ELSE'S BLOG.

Last night, Zack and I were hanging out, being dumb as always. Anyway, as teenagers are want to do, we are just kind of joking around, and poking each other and shit, kind of wrestling (these are not sexual innuendos, seriously, if we were fucking I would have said it). I turn on the computer, and put on some Iggy Pop ("I Wanna Be Your Dog" and "Death Trip" are playing, those are the songs to think about). Anyway, I decide to go on iChat and talk to one of my friends. It's actually my friend who is really overprotective of me (in the space of a year and a half she has had sex with 13 guys, so I am looked at as a little innocent pup). We're sitting there video chatting with her, and I start to just kind of... hmm... how do I put this tastefully? I don't think I can... umm... rub his "pant-leg"... So, you all know what I mean. But, at the same time I'm having a conversation with her. You may all think that I'm a bit of a weirdo, but honeslty, it was kind of hot because we were talking to her at the same time, and she could only see like our faces. Zack was so pissed at me too, because after she signed off, I left him hard and then started to go do other shit. I kind of sang along to Iggy Pop and walked around my room, and then drove him home. As much as he was all "you're a cock tease blah blah blah" he didn't seem to mind. Am I a terrible person? No. Did I prove to him that I was in control? Yes. I like being in control, haha. A lot. Anyway, as I was prancing around my room picking up shit and finding my clothes for the party, he was watching me and told me how he thought my fishnets were really hot (my friend who I was iChatting with told me this previously). And at the end of the night I felt like I was a stellar teenager and... okay, this is going to sound lame, but I feel like everyone should have one astoundingly teenage moment, and that was mine. I kind of liked it because I knew that I shouldn't be iChatting, rubbing my boyfriend's dick, and listening to Iggy Pop all at the same time. 

The way I just wrote this does not really do it justice, ya know? I was actually quite hot, if I do say so myself. I would like to say something else, which happens to be exceedlingly tasteless, do you guys wanna read it? Okay, if you don't then skip to the next paragraph, but here it is: Zack has a big dick.

So, I feel kind of unclean for writing this all on here... but, I mean, you guys will find it entertaining... or awkward. Whichever way you feel, I mean, come on, you were all teenagers at some point. It makes me feel like a cliche saying this, but, this is how I imagined teenage punk love to be. And yes, it's really too much fun. = P

Well, after that lovely lacivious post, I'm going to go read some more "Pride and Prejudice."

Love ya guys,

- Lucy = )

I AM A BAMF

Okay, so, I am so fucking happy and shit... you don't even know right now...

Last night, Zack's aunt and cousin were off with relatives over night. So, being a 17 year old, I spent then night!!!! Now, me being me, as I told my friend who was "afraid for my vcard": my vcard is intact. Obviously, some shit happened, but you guys definitely don't want details. But, the night was just so much fun. Mostly, we just hang out, said dumb shit to one another, watched dumb tv shows. His mother called last night, she was really drunk. It took him like 40 minutes to get her off the phone as we walked around and I tried to stifle my laughter. The funniest thing was when she said to him: "Is your girlfriend there?" "Is Sarah there? Don't lie to me." And the second time he said yes sarcastically, and she said, "awww." Haha, I had to fucking run out of the room because i was dying. She also called him a cracker. I wore his clothes and shit when we went to bed. In the morning I made us eggs for breakfast, and we watched dumb shows on Lifetime.

One of the best quotes of the night was when he was like, I'll go sleep on the sofa, and I asked if he was afraid and he says: "I have no problem sleeping with you."

THE NIGHT BEFORE:

I got drunk and high after the Reagan Youth show. It was such a great show. I got thrown from the back to the front of the pit and just like being shoved everywhere. Pat kept letting me sing into the mic. I love seeing Reagan Youth because everyone gets so into it and everyone knows the words. There was this big skinhead with read hair who was obviously into me, and kept trying to hit on me. There were three kids who were obviously on speed, you should have seen them, haha. They were like rubbing their hair and their arms and fidgeting and talking at lightening speed. At first I only saw one and thought he just had problems, and then when I saw all three I realized they were high. Good times. Good bands. Good friends. Man, it was a great night. I have some really hardcore missing patches of skin on my arm (from getting dragged from the front of the pit into the floor of the circle pit. Like legit, and then people as they do, hoisted me up and I had to fight my way back to the standing pit.) I like circle pits, but I'm just no coordinated enough to fully enjoy them. Tanzen and I got back to her house and finished up this cranberry vodka we had. Then we smoked about 4 bowls in the park, and got back and tried to play cards (it was so retarded). So, I'm trying to quit because of the crying on the train last weekend and shit, but to no avail. No opiates though, since the 4th of January. Fuck. Well, I don't know. I hate weed. I'm just worried about getting drug tested and coming up positive for weed and getting in trouble because it would be such a waste.

Well, I wonder if I love Zack, I think I love him. I've decided to just take it one day at a time and not think about it.

Well, I love you guys!

- Lucy = )

Strange

I had a drug dream that I have to share with everyone, because it was THAT cracked out. Okay, so I'll start from the beginning. My friend Nina and I are walking from our first block class on the third floor, down to our homeroom on the second floor like every day. However, we take a different stairwell, anyway, we stop on the landing in between the two floors and these three Hispanic kids I recognize are standing there. Anyway, they have like a bowl of what looks to be powdered sugar (I mean, I'm always getting high off of baking goods... anyway). So, the main guy asks if he we want some "name that made no sense when I heard it." It was my minds attempt at a nick-name for a drug gone wrong, to the point where it was legit just sounds. Nina's eyes are kind of bugged out and dilated and a bit crossed. She's very gungho about it. Instead of having viles or tinfoil or baggies... No, it's this thing that looks like a tiny-fish bowl (about the size of a marble) with an opening at the top. They are using spoons the size of like barbie spoons to put the powder in there. BTW, it's supposed to be speed (haha, my dreams... REALLY REALISTIC... not). Okay, so suddenly I wanna say he's given it to Nina, or maybe it's while he's filling the "vile" and he says, "do you want a taste?" Nina  says no, and I look at her and say, "Yes?" So, I snort a little (mind you, I'm standing in a fucking stairwell in my school, which is apparently empty because everyone else is in homeroom). At first, I'm like, wow, nothing. AND THEN IT HITS ME. Suddenly, I feel like I've been hit in the face by a fucking roller coaster and my mind is flying. Nina and I then walk downstairs (some how she is also high). Anyway, we walk down to our homeroom and try to turn off all of the lights in the classroom because it is bothering our eyes. There's this machine in the front with all of these keys and knobs and shit and lights, which I am just so unable to turn off it's not funny. Anyway, I keep trying, to no avail. Finally, I wake up. It's 4:30 in the afternoon and I've been asleep for an hour and I'm fucking sweating because of how high the heat is in my house and the fact that I'm under a blanket. I crawl out and feel so gross and go do homework.

This is how my beginning to going straight is. Great. Fucking, great. Obviously, that's just all I need. Anyway, I'm doing good. Besides when I was about ready to fucking just shove anything into my body to get high on wednesday, lots of shit went down and it was terrible, but I refrained. = ) I don't know, today my friend was being very triumphant when she said she hadn't smoked weed in 3 days? or maybe it was since Sunday? (Obviously, I was paying a lot of attention...) Anyway, I kind of felt bad after just brushing it off like it was nothing. I remember last year when I was so fucking proud to have made it like 2 and a half weeks, and I told my friends and they were just like, "whatever" and it kind of ruined it for me. I'm feeling good about it. I'll just drink because I don't have enough opportunities to drink. I do occasionally feel like I do drink just to get fucked up. Bad Lucy. Bad... I don't know, after Tanzen saying the greatest thing ever: "I really like hangovers because they bring you down to reality, and I like reality." How could I stop drinking? Haha, that's just like the greatest phrase of someone whose had a bit much to drink.

Tomorrows plan: finish off the stoli (I will not poor out fucking as much cranberry juice as last time...) and then go to the show. Enjoy Reagan Youth, then go to Tanzen's. Cut my hair at some point, watch SNL, hopefully eat some Life cereal, play guitar, etc. It'll be great. = )

I FINISHED APPLYING FOR COLLEGE! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! = ) Basically, the greatest fear of my life is off of my shoulders. Now it's just up to admissions people, and they can do what they want. Hopefully, I get into to like 8 out of 12 (I know, I applied to way too many schools). Anyway, around April I'll tell y'all the good news. = )

I don't know, I'm tired. 

But I have a question:

Okay, so, with certain guys, I would kiss them and I would literally get weak in the knees. That doesn't happen with Zack. There's no fire there (besides us being two teenagers who like each other). In some ways, I feel like he's just more of a safe choice, rather than like the perfect guy for me. I wish there were more sparks, but it's cool. He's the kind of guy who we're kind of like a great couple, and we'll just work it out. (We put down the deposits on our room after prom, we're sharing a suite with my two good friends and their dates. It's an open room though, with a pull out couch, so it's like two beds and a pull out couch... ugh. AWKWARD. haha).

Should I worry if there are no sparks? That's my question. = )

Well, I'm off to sleep. Good night guys, love you all.

= )

Lucy