You know how this whole diary thing always works out? I either have tons of time to write and nothing to talk about or I have tons to talk about and no time to write! I need a few more hours in the day... maybe another five? No, make it six, I hate odd numbers.

Valentine's Day was, well... quiet. I stayed home a lot of the day, I didn't feel like cooking, so Dad suggested that we order out. I said I didn't want anything greasy because my stomach can't handle it anymore, so we figured Chinese would be the safest. WRONG. It made me so sick, and my fortune cookie was empty! That can't be good. We watched Signs, which I declare one of my new favorite movies. We went up to my sister's school to make sure she didn't run away, and found out she hadn't even gone in the first place. There were girls walking out with big hearts, flowers, all that sappy stuff; my dad asked if I wanted any flowers and I replied with, "Dad, you know me better than that. I hate store-bought flowers!". I observed all the ego-inflated, super-arrogant teenagers flocking around and making idiots of themselves, getting out their cellphones, kids waiting for their boyfriends to pick them up in their cars, everyone acting like they were hot shit. And you know what? That was me from ages 14-17... I have to state for the record that by the time I'd turned 17 and was ready to graduate, a lot of my bubbliness (is that even a word?) had faded away but I was always one of those preppy, foul-mouthed, out of control kids that would always get in trouble with the teachers. I'd never pay attention, I'd disrupt the class while I giggled with my numerous friends and opted not to do my work. My grade 10 math teacher, Mr. Leyte, often liked to ridicule me in class; he would talk me down to the other students, saying I was losing a fragment of my conscience during every class and that even though I didn't pay any attention, that I'd get an 80% on my final (I ended up getting somewhere around 95%, thank-you-very-much). I really should have enrolled in the AP classes but all my friends got horrible grades and I didn't want to be surrounded by nerds and oldskool preps. I did that in junior high and they had brain fun and had math club and all this weird stuff. That's when I decided to drop out and take regular academic classes and came out with a final mark of 98% in math and had teachers tell me I was lying about my grades. Yep, high school was sure a lot of fun.

Anyway, after most of the kids had gotten out, I declared that I wanted to look around my high school for one of my last times. They're tearing it down at the end of the school year and it just breaks my heart. Over the past few years, anything that proved my existence here has disappeared; the hospital that I was born in, the base-run apartment that I grew up in and loved, my elementary school, my junior high school which is in shambles, and now it's almost time for my high school. It's quite depressing and I wonder if "they" (that'll be my new term for them) are conspiring against me... getting rid of anything I ever knew to punish me for all the lies I've told, crimes I've committed, alcohol I drank, weed I smoked, and any other not-so-innocent thing I've done. It's that whole kharma thing; that and my paranoia with conspiracies. So, I was going to talk about my high school; I waltzed in there like I owned the place and a rush of memories just came over me... skipping class to go to a bathroom and talk with my friends, recesses of acting like total dumbasses, hanging out in the hallways and getting told off, decorating my lockers with pictures and notes and a mirror that I was never vain enough to use... the annoying bell that signaled the beginning/end of class, and everything else I did while I was there. All of a sudden I found myself grabbing my dad's hand and dragging him to Mr. O'Donnell's classroom where I had painted a huge mural on the back wall with three other guys to opt out of a boring class project. I took him to the art room to see if any of my projects were still there (there weren't, after all, it's been four years). I'd started this awesome mosaic-style 3D painting of some horses in the meadows. I bet it would have turned out awesome. I saw a few of my old teachers who had forgotten who I was, or freaked out over the fact that I had a piece of metal forced through my lip. It's weird how you can spend three years wanting to get out of high school and then spend the rest of your life wishing you could get those years back...

I also felt evil enough to pick out a cheesy Valentine e-card and put a few tease-inducing statements in them... and sent it to Justin. The idiot didn't check his e-mail until today, but I knew it would drive him crazy and we talked before supper tonight. He asked yet again about getting back together and I told him I'd start going over again, but not to be surprised if I wanted to stay friends with him for a bit. He then continued on to see if I wanted to have sex with him and I swear to God I was laughing to kill myself. He was really serious about it, and I found it hilarious. Sometimes the male population behave in such a way that I cannot help BUT laugh. Anyway, he invited me over to his house tonight, no strings attached, and I accepted. The only thing is I had so much work to do around the house and I hadn't eaten yet, or bathed. By the time I was all ready, it was like 9 p.m. and he'd gone off to pool league. I was actually really looking forward to going, but I guess I'll have to wait. I know he's gonna be pissed with me when I talk to him again, but as I already told him... this house falls apart at the seams if I leave before suppertime.

And I've now decided that along with Damieon's old room in residence, I've got a grudge against a small stretch of road outside our town. I do NOT appreciate ghosts picking on me because it freaks me out more than anything (well, besides spiders). See, the whole family piled up in our car to take my brother's mother (not mine, we're all adopted) home and so I could pick up some Bif pictures she's got. I was in a good mood; I'd dug some really old tapes of mine out and we listened to them all the way down, belting out the lyrics as best as we could remember... "He's a big dinosaur! A friendly dinosaur! With points from his back to his tail... his roar turns pouty people pale!" Haha... yes, I've loved music since I wasn't even able to talk. When I was a little tot, I owned the 8-track system in the car and wore out a specific 8-track, "if you're happy and you know it clap your hands!"... Anyway, we were all goofing off and having a good time, and we passed this stretch of road where someone was killed by a drunk driver years ago. It was pretty late, so the only reason I knew it was there was from the memorial cross reflecting against our headlights. I was singing out something along the lines of a leprechaun, and then I felt someone tickling my scalp. I turned to yell at my sister but everyone was asleep in the back and then the music cut in really loud and I screamed. Stuff like this isn't too easy on my nerves... it's bad enough when I get bad vibes about houses and streets and such, and seeing things out of the corner of my eye. Have I really been doing that many drugs that I'm in my own little world or something? Geez.

Well, I'm hungry and my dad's offering to take me to Tim Horton's. Who would turn down caffeine and everything bagels? Mmmmm. I wish they'd bring back those swiss apple tarts, they kicked ass. It's taken me almost three hours to type all this! Between massive amounts of chat conversations on MSN/AIM, my dog wanting attention, talking on the phone, spending time with my sister, my dad, dealing with my demonic brother and a slough of other distractions, I've managed to write in here. I'm telling you, I'm the queen of multi-tasking. I might not be quick with everything, but it's the ability that counts.

At least that's what I like to tell myself.

I'm wearing: Baby tee, stretchy flares, stripey sock, butterfly slippers
I'm listening to: Sophia *Bif Naked*
I'm thinking: I'm booooored!