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I really want to put more Dr. Who in here, but unfortunately I've never watched the show.

Dr. John H. Watson startled from his sleep, jolting straight up.  The curtains were drawn, leaving the room pitch black.  His ears strained for noise; what had Sherlock done now?  Had he blown up the kitchen again; had he shouted obscenities at a corpse in the kitchen; had he shot the wall again; had Mycroft paid a late-night visit and left him to screech on the violin?
But there was no noise.  No plucking or tapping at violin strings.  No feet shuffling about, no doors slamming, no fizzling from chemical reactions.  Outside his windows Baker Street was uncharacteristically still: he could hear no pedestrian chatter and could not hear a single car whizzing by.  Then he remembered.
Sherlock was gone.
And he had taken all of London's sounds with him tonight.  There were no jarring, sudden screeches or bangs or whizzes to lull him to sleep, only his own thoughts.
With a heavy sigh, John rolled back onto his bed and shifted onto his side.  He still listened for any sound, any sign that Sherlock's jump and the past two months had been nothing but a bad dream, but none came.

Until he heard a small snort.

Without thinking, John jolted upright with his pistol - stashed between his mattress and the wall - raised.  Even with his eyes having had time to adjust to the darkness, he could not make out a single thing.  Slowly, he reached over to the lamp on his desk and switched it on.

Nothing seemed out of place.  His pile of clothing by the door was undisturbed: no one had entered through the usual entrance.  The pile of books and debris on the desk by the window was also untouched, leaving John to surmise he had simply imagined the sound.  Until it happened again.
With a soldier's precision he twisted to face the chair in the corner of his room, pistol cocked.

He was not entirely certain what he was expecting to see, but a poorly-dressed young woman asleep on his armchair was definitely not it.  Her head had lolled back and her mouth hung comically open, a trail of drool dripping down her face and onto the book she was apparently trying to read in the pitch-black room.
John coughed a little bit, trying to wake the intruder up politely.  She just snored in response.
"Hello?" he tried again, but apparently too softly.  "Um, hello?  What are you doing in my room?"
Still no response.
Even though her thin clothing - a simple tee-shirt and pair of boxer shorts - would not be able to hide a weapon, John held onto his gun as he got off his bed and crossed his room, although he did tuck it in his pants at the small of his back.  He gripped her knee.
This time he got a response.
She startled awake, eyes shooting open.  They looked at each other for a good moment, an intense blue-colored staring contest, before she cursed.
"This has all been a dream, Dr. Watson," she said in an artificially deep voice, waving her arms in a manner he decided was supposed to be mystical.  Then, without a sound, she vanished.
John blinked a few times before deciding he was going crazy.  After crawling back onto his bed he cast another look at the now-empty armchair forlornly.
Except it wasn't empty.  Her book was still there.
Cautiously, he made his way back towards the chair and picked up the book.

It was entitled "The Return of Sherlock Holmes."

Unsure as to what he was doing, John slowly opened the front cover.  The publication date was 1904.  This was a mystery he was going to solve in the morning.


As it turned out, it was a mystery he was going to solve that night at the pub, with Greg.  He hadn't spoken to the detective-inspector since the incident, as John referred to it in his mind, but figured that since a Lestrade was mentioned in the very first story, Greg might as well be along for the ride.
Except, John couldn't get a word in edgewise.  The detective kept going on about how well he was getting along with Jodi, after having met some man at the bar who had apparently given him some sort of amazing relationship advice.  Truthfully, John hadn't been paying attention.  He had read some of the stories earlier in the day and was shocked to find how similar this Victorian-era Sherlock was to his Sherlock, how they had both fought a Moriarty, and had supposedly fallen to their deaths.  Or well, how one of them had apparently survived, while the other had not.  
And they both had their John H. Watsons.

"Wait, shit, that's him!"
John finally tuned back in to Lestrade's ramble to see him pointing at a man dressed in a dark jumper and slacks, drinking something that looked suspiciously like bourbon or whiskey.  John had always been a beer person; he couldn't tell the difference just from looking.  Especially not half a room away.
At that moment, the mystery advice-giving man turned around and fixed Lestrade with a grin, before turning to stare at John with a bemused smirk.  After a moment or two the man got up and sauntered over to the booth, sliding into the seat next to John.

"Well, hello, Lestrade," he drawled, offering his free hand.  His other clung onto what was decidedly his scotch.  Lestrade grinned broadly and took the offered hand, shaking it heartily.
"Good to see you again, mate," the detective gushed.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"  the unnamed man responded, pointing at John.
"Erm, well... John, this is, eh..."  Greg's grin faded.
"Oh, you were fairly sloshed.  It's nice to meet you, John, I'm--"

"Crowley."  The word came out as a growl from the young woman standing at the edge of the table.  Her face was scrunched into a snarl and her nails dug viciously into the wood.  "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Oh, bloody hell," Crowley murmured, voice sing-song.
"Are you really trying to make a deal with him?" she said, her American accent overwhelming
"Well, I wasn't going for trying, I was going for succeeding."
The woman lowered her voice and leaned into Crowley.  "You know why I can't let you do that."
And that was when John placed her.  The voice, the hat with the lambada, the tired blue eyes - she was the girl in his chair last night.
"Excuse me, but what were you doing in my room last night?"
The bickering stopped as all turned to stare first at John, then at the now nervously-chuckling girl.
"Uh, heh, I may have... uh, I don't have a good answer for this..."  She stopped, then sniffed.  A shocked expression took over her face.  She sniffed feverishly, like a hound on a scent trail.  Her eyes narrowed and focused entirely on Crowley.

"Did you seriously make a deal with Lestrade?" she purred, a sickly-sweet smile melting her face.
Lestrade spat out his drink.
"I do believe that's none of your business," retorted Crowley.  John was beginning to like him.
"Oh you know full well it is."  Her voice had returned to a growl.  "Now cancel the deal."
"Sorry, I can't," chimed Crowley.  "Only Lestrade can, and I believe he's too happy with his loving wife to turn it back."
She honestly looks worried, John thought.  Why, he had no idea.
Lestrade pointedly looked away.
"Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade, do you want me to die?"
All three men looked at her, agape.  Lestrade slowly shook his head side to side.
"Good.  Am I right in assuming that you don't want to die a horribly painful and embarrassing death ten years from now?"
A little more hesitant, Lestrade again shook his head.
"Then cancel the deal."
John, Crowley and the intruder looked pointedly at Lestrade, who downed the rest of his mug before replying.
"If I keep the deal, why will you and I die?"
"Firstly," she responded instantaneously, "I've been, er, hired to keep you two safe at the pain of my life.  Secondly, anyone who makes a deal with this bastard" - she pointed at Crowley, who looked surprised - "gets the dogs sent after them.  I've seen it before, it isn't a pleasant way to go."
"You keep getting out of it," Crowley mumbled.  John's eyes grew wide as he stared at the young woman, who sipped on her orange juice.
"That's because I'm not your average person, dear," she cheerily replied.
"The dogs sent after them?" Lestrade finally answered.
"Yep, quite a nasty way to die."
Crowley grinned and looked away, as if he was fantasizing having her torn to shreds by dogs.
"And you say this'll happen if he doesn't undo the deal?" John asked when Lestrade visibly blanched.
"And why will you die?"
"Like I said, I've been threatened to keep you guys safe."
"By who?"  Lestrade finally responded.
"Not allowed to say," she sighed.
"Mycroft, isn't it," John muttered.
The American rolled her eyes in response.  "No.  Now, Gregory, are you going to undo your contract with him or not?"
"How did you even know I made a bloody deal with him?" Lestrade retorted.  He was beginning to look miffed.
"Not important.  Now, are you going to cancel it?"
"I don't believe I am," he responded.  John nearly choked on the dregs of his beer.
"And why not?"  she questioned, as a wide grin took over Crowley's face.
"I don't bloody believe you.  If he was setting hounds on people all over London, we'd know about it!  I'm the bloody police!"
At that, the young woman slammed her head into the table several times, groaning.
"Good lord, I hate you ignorant people," she finally sighed.  "Why do I bother."

"Crowley, why have you called me here?"
A new American stood by the woman's side, clad in a suit, trench coat, and backwards tie.  The first American's eyes grew wide, and John saw her mouth an unmistakable, "Oh shit."

"Castiel, my good man," Crowley greeted, "I believe you have been looking for thi-- OI, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"

The young woman was halfway out the door.  The three men - Crowley, John, and Lestrade - all stood up to chase her, until they saw her backing up, back into the pub, arms in front of her.
"It was a misunderstanding, I swear," she said, trembling, backing away from Castiel.  How he had gotten there, John had no idea.
"I swear to God I thought he was attacking someone."
"Do not dare use His name in front of me, monster," the man said.  "He has long forsaken us."
"Okay okay please please just let me out of here I was just watching as Sherlock told me to-"
"Wait, I'm sorry, what?" John said, causing Castiel to pause with his arm outstretched in front of the girl's forehead.  "Sherlock told you to watch me?"

"Heh."  She looked sheepish.  "I wasn't supposed to let you know that."

Just felt like writing

 Love and hate are so similar.
You think about the object of your hatred or affection often
You always stare at it when it's around
You get a feeling in your gut when thinking about it
Personally, my muscles tense, specifically around the shoulders

How can anyone figure out the goddamned difference?

and then there's my depression.
First suicide attempt in years.  Great big fucking scar on my arm now, thanks self.
At least I get a good story out of it.
"Hey how'd you get that scar on your arm?"
"I was attacked by a bear."
"Attacked by a be--"
"Several, actually."
"With chainsaws."
"I really shouldn't've told that bear his mom made a great throw rug."

I don't know why my depressions been so bad recently, it's been under control for the past two years.  I even had my first minor panic attack in a while, watching a show on mummies found in South America at four in the morning.
In the past when I saw something on death I'd freak the fuck out about how i was going to die and whatnot, and my brain would kind of melt.  After being put on my medication I haven't had another one of those since, until two nights ago.
To top it all off, too, I started getting scared of the dark again.  I thought I was all grown up.

I might be getting a dog.  Can't wait.


Created while sober. 

Step One:  After hearing about the zombie virus outbreak, I will create a small harness for my gecko so I can keep him with me while traveling.
Step Two:  Bottle up as much water as possible while it is still running.
Step Three:  Pack a bag.  It shall be filled with 2 pairs of jeans, 3 shirts, 2 bras, and as many socks and pairs of undies as I can fit.  Other things will include pencils, one notebook, my baby blanket, my miniature fishing rod, two radios, a knife, and as much steel wool and batteries as I can find.
Step Four:  Pack everything up in the attic in my room.  The only way to get up there is by a secret staircase in the ceiling!  Perfect hiding spot.  
Step Five:  If my family is not okay, I will steal a car and find some weapons, mostly swords.  I will also gather up all those i can find/fit into the car, including domesticated animals.  Damn straight.  
Step Six:  Take them all up into my little hiding spot.
Step Seven:  Wait until things cool off/ the disease is controlled.
Step Eight:  If the disease cannot be controlled or the world is simply in chaos, go north.  Very far north.  Up to Canada.  Past the frost line if possible.
Step Nine:  ????
Step Ten:  PROFIT!

Or, more likely, once I become a parasiteologist, I will create a parasite that sucks onto the brains of living and recently dead humans and recreates life, but not a mind.  I will also come up with a vaccine that I shall give to myself and few special others.
I'd recommend getting on my good side.

Slashfic I'm writing

Madarame Ikkaku was glad to be back in Seiretei.  He was glad to be back in his private quarters, the 11th division's 3rd seat's large suite in Zaraki Kenpachi's house, which also functioned as the unofficial headquarters of the division.  Most of all, he was glad to be back in the division leaders' personal hot springs.
His head lay on his towel, folded on top of the smooth stone that lined the banks of the warm pools.  His muscular, smooth arms lay perpendicular to his head, caressing the rock.  [Enter name of Zanpakutoh here] was, of course, just a hair's breadth away.
Steam rose, dancing across his bare, exposed skin.  Droplets of sweat mingled with the water vapor, rolling smoothly down his hairless frame.  The black sky above him filled with rising steam, which vanished in to the air.  His shiny head rose, and he angrily shouted an order: "Oi!  Turn the lights off!  I can't see the stars!"
The lights promptly went out, but it still took a minute for the blurry stars to show, as other lights around the establishment dimmed.  Relaxation at it's best, he noted.
Drowsiness set in, and his eyes dropped shut, showing off the red tattoos by his eyes.  Unbidden, as his mind wandered, thoughts of the woman whom he spent the past few weeks with crept into his mind.  Matsumoto-chan... her supple chest, always half bare, smooth skin, rich blond hair...
Arousal arrived.  Peeking one eye open, he looked around to assure himself he was alone.  He felt no other reiatsu within fifty meters, anyway.  Slowly he lifted his hand of the warm stone and plunged it into the hot water.
His pelvis was embarrassingly bald, shiny like his head.But as his manhood throbbed in his hand, thoughts crept out of his mind, except for the image of Matsumoto-san.  Slowly moving her hands to her bosom, peeling back the layers of her shinigami garb until it was all gone...
Panting now, his hand wrapped around his pride as a man, moving up and down, up and down...
And the dressing room door shot open, jolting Ikkaku out of his reverie, who bolted upright and, after shooting his hand out of the water, grabbed the hilt of his Zanpakutoh out of pure shock.
A body leaped through the dark air, slim and bare, bob-cut black hair breezing lightly behind him.  It was then Ikkaku recognized the reiatsu of the intruder.  Yumichika cannonballed into the water, splashing a now irate Ikkaku.  Damnit, if he was going to get blue balls...!
The pretty boy emerged from the water, running his slender hand through his perfect black-blue hair, which still remained sleek and glossy despite the water.  Eyes blinked open, and the purple irises focused on Ikkaku.
"Hey, how's it going?"  Yumichika smiled, his teeth still glistening in the low light.  Ikkaku was glad for the cover of darkness.
"It was going pretty well, till ya showed up," he uttered, wiping his face dry with his hand, which had now emptied itself of his zanpakutoh.  "Why the hell did ya think it was a good idea to cannonball in here?!"
"Didn't seem like a bad idea.  I just got so excited to relax for the first time in a while, you know?"
"God you're so excitable."  Madarame rolled his eyes, focusing them at the shadowed wall.  For whatever reason, even with the naked man standing in front of him, his cock remained firm, threatening to peak out of the water.  "Why-- why don't you relax somewhere else?"
"Awwh, aren't we friends?  I can relax best around you!"
The statement struck him for a second -- that sounded like something a lover would say -- but he recovered quickly.  "Yea, well, I don't around you."
"Buh... Buh..."  Was that brat about to cry? "...Wait... you were playing the skin flute, weren't you?"  The tone in Yumichicka's voice told him that he was grinning sneakily, like he did whenever he thought he discovered something that someone wanted to hide.  But....
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It's..."  Yumichika was momentarily flustered.  "A more beautiful way of saying beating it."  He nodded sternly, folding his arms.
Eyes narrowed.   "What now?"
Voice raised, "Do I really have to say it?  You were totally... oh it's such an ugly word... Masturbating!"
Ikkaku shot out of the water, an accusatory finger pointed.  "HELL NO I WAS NOT!"
A moment passed.  It took Ikkaku a few seconds to notice Yumichika's lowered eyes.  He lowered his own eyes, to see where the girly boy was staring with such intent -- the only beam of light visible shown intently on his massive boner.
"It's... beautiful..."
"WHAT?!"  Ikkaku was taken aback.  Literally.  He tripped backwards over the rocky seats of the pool, his arms bracing himself against the rough ground.  Could it get any more awkward?
Yumichika bent inwards, an arm on either side of Ikkaku's waist, groping the rocks.  His face was just an inch away from Ikkaku's manly man part, and he had to resist shuddering from the sensation of Yumichika's breath on it.
"It's... perfect.  It's quite... quite large enough to please a woman..." Yumichika said, tilting his head from side to side, "But not necessarily enough to hurt one...  So clean... I just want to..."
His tongue hesitantly curled around Ikkaku's 'second head.'  Madarame wanted to cry out, to make it stop... but it felt so good.  From somewhere deep inside himself, he felt a creeping satisfaction take over his body.
"OH LORD WHAT AM I DOING!???!"  Yumichika had pulled away, covering his mouth.  "I am so sorry I dunno what came over me--"
Ikkaku raised a fist, and towered over his friend.
"You little tease I'll teach you to do that!  BEND OVER, BITCH!"
A terrified Yumichika had no choice but to comply, trembling.  Madarame's rough hands pulled him around so that he faced the rocks, his arms bracing himself so that his beautiful face did not get scratched on the rough stone.  A shudder ran through his slender body as Madarame moved his calloused hands from Yumichika's waist, instead going over to each of his cheeks, spreading them apart.  His best friend was not gentle as he bent over, tongue sticking out, to lubricate Yumichika's least touched of all spots. Yumichika gasped at the strange sensation of being licked there, the strange intrusion almost pleasurable.  Suddenly it stopped, and Yumichika braced himself.
An explosion of pain ran throughout his body as Madarame thrust into it.  Without a hint of grace, he pulled backwards and forwards, thrusting into Yumichika repeatedly as he had his pleasure.  Yumichika was gasping as the pain changed to pleasure and tremors racked his body.  The sensation… It was beautiful.  It was the perfect mixture of pain, pleasure, humility and power, especially as he sensed Madarame receiving an amount of pleasure equal or exceeding his.  Soon, Madarame's constant thrusting slowed.
Yumichika sensed a shudder run through Madarame's muscular body and his breathing change into a heavy panting, and he sensed Madarame's thick manhood throbbing intently inside of his body.  With a slight squelch, Madarame slowly pulled out, still panting.  He turned around almost instantly, falling onto one of the rocks lining the wall.  His breathing slowed, until he noticed that Yumichika was sitting on the wall, his legs only in the water.  His slender but long manly part was erect, his womanly fingers surrounding it in a rough and clumsy manner, rubbing up and down.
Then it hit Madarame exactly what he had done.  Had he… Had he just raped his friend?
"Ah you're… more conscious now…" Yumichika said between stiff intakes of air.  "Now, If you don't want me to report any of this to Zaraku," he added with a slight shudder of pleasure, "this being the fact you just raped me, I respect some fun in return."
Madarame knew full well that Yumichika was completely able to not just tell the story in a twist that would benefit him, but also able to force him into satisfying his own pleasure.  Shaking, he stood up and turned around, taking the same position Yumichika took a few minutes before. Then he heard a slight chuckling.
"No, no.  I don't want to wear myself out doing you.  You will, of course, suck my thing of beauty."  He motioned to his throbbing penis, an evil glare catching the light.  Madarame knew he had no choice but to comply.  Shakily and warily, he moved towards Yumichika's part, and put his arms on either side of the slender boy's waist.  As he stood and contemplated a way of getting out of this, Yumichika grabbed the back of his head and thrust it forward, as he himself bent over.  "You do this," he whispered sweetly, "Or I will make sure you can never get with a woman again." 
With that threat in his ear, Madarame instantly put Yumichika's member onto his lips.  It wasn't an unpleasant taste or sensation.  In fact, it was slightly salty in an almost pleasant way, and the texture was not too bad at all.  He got more and more into it, eventually running his tongue over the length of it, much to Yumichika's expressed enjoyment.  He let out a moan into the steamy air as Madarame thrust as much of it as he could into his mouth, gently bobbing his head backwards and forwards to please Yumichika.
Almost as soon as it had started, Yumichika let out a slight yell, almost a squeal, of delight, shudders racking his body.  Yumichika grabbed Madarame's head, thrusting it further over his part.  This time it was Yumichika's cock that throbbed, expelling a whitish liquid that tasted not unpleasant.  Absentmindedly, he swallowed it, then pulled back as he wiped his mouth.
The lights turned on, and a towel-glad Zaraku Kenpachi approached them.  His eyes widened.
"What…  What were you two doing?"  His voice was soft at first, then grew into a roar.
Yumichika and Madarame quickly got out, scrambling so quickly away that they forgot their towels.  It wasn't quick enough.  Kenpachi quickly caught up and swung with the back of his sword, throwing them a great distance.  Right into the infirmary, where they ended up staying for a good amount of time.
"At least it was worth it," Madarame caught himself thinking.

Oh god what is this I don't even.

Trying to Work

So today I'm bored as hell, sitting around on a lazy Sunday afternoon after church with a lizard in my shirt and three tanks set up in my room.
My brain feels like its on the fritz right now.  I had a really interesting conversation with the rest of the youth group about bullying.
The only person there who hadn't been bullied was Finland.  Either people in Finland are really nice or everyone just loves that little blondie.
I eventually came to the conclusion that we should feel sorry for bullies.  They have their own insecurities and problems which they feel can only be taken care of by venting in some way, which unfortunately means making someone else feel like shit.  Misery loves company and all that good stuff.

I realize that while I haven't forgiven the people who tormented me when I was younger, I do pity them.  But kids will be kids, and I have to let bygones be bygones.

While I might be a dumbass, I look at things way more logically than most people when my brain's working.

Right now it's not.  Tried to break up with the boyfriend.  Note: Tried.  I told him we should "call it quits" and we agreed to "talk about it tomorrow."  Apparently responding to his texts and being polite equals "I'm sorry about last night."  We discussed it a little, and he spent a day trying to be better about talking to me and spending time with me.  Two days later and not much has changed.  God, I'm a pussy.
He isn't making me happy anymore but I know I'll be even worse without him.  Maybe not in the long run.  But shit.  I guess I'll talk to him the next time I see him.  We just come from two different worlds I guess.   I've been really depressed.  Maybe I need more excersize.  Or more food or a beverage or something.
Shit, now my basic English is turning to French in my mind.

I guess I'm kind of having a breakdown?

Old diary entries

So, I used to keep Diaries constantly when I was about 12 or 13.  Here're a couple entries, randomly selected.  

 February 4th, 2009
Dear Kitty,
Nope, not preggers.  Or at least, that's what the copious amount of blood seeping out of my vaginal area and horrible cramps tell me.  x]
Daniel and I are trying to figure out what we're doing to celebrate valentine's day, seeing as he and I are going to be about 50 miles apart (at least) on Valentine's Day.  Probably Mongolian Bbq.

I'm really scared of mom reading my convo's with Daniel.  Of her finding my stash of lesbian porn and realizing I'm bi.
Of her finding my 3 camwhore pix.
Of her realizing what a fuck-up I am.

I mean, I am trying to fix myself up.  I'm not smoking pot anymore (Nope!  I'm not!), I'm not ever going to sneak out to hang out with Daniel again (too goddamn risky), I'm never going to put up semi-nudes on the internet again, and in general stop being such a fuck-up.

I'm 14 and I'm already fucking up my life.

Ah, it's all my fault anyways.  I only learn from mistakes.  But I've learned a lot.  I'm going to stop sneaking out, as my grades are dropping.  I need sleep.
Pot?  No.  Just, no.  Never again.
Internet?  I'll pass.

I'm really changing... and I like it. ^_^

I need to beat the impossible quiz!

What did I do at teaism today?
Worked in preparing/chopping vegetables (red peppers, squash, cabbage) for cooking
I had a free breakfast of a scone and Chai (so good!!!)
I refilled the store's tea supply
I peeled some taters
I worked in the shop a little, putting teaism stickers on bags.
I worked at teh cash register for about 30 minutes, until there were so many people piled up I was shoo'd away.
I folded letters in the office (Linda's labrador is so cute and friendly!) and put $1094 in the letters depending on who gets a tip.
It was cool.  They trusted me with money and a big knife today.  Wow.  No one ever does that. (For a good reason?)
I took a lunch break at 2:30.  I had a veggie burger on naan bread, pretty good.
I hung out at teh store
Then I hung out at the cash register -- I'm really getting the hang of it!  Wow.
MOm picked me up
Took the metro home
I got up the right stairs but I took the wrong turn...
I finally got to the right exit and when home.

Then I went fencing!  I was dead tired so it wasn't much fun.
I guess I'm just consigning myself to the fate of mom's gonna find everything out and I'mma die.
I might, er well, I'll probably at least attempt suicide.  v_v

I really don't want too though.

I'm babysitting next weekend. =O Money!
Speaking of, I have $140 saved up for Katsucon!  And Mom and dad are giving me money for getting an A+ in algebra, so I'll have about $190.  Plus the ten mom gave me that I'm going to save, $200.   And with what I'm going to earn from babysitting?  At least $250.
Boo lakasha.

I might pilfer money from Mom's wallet again.  I do that on occasion.  Well, okay, just an extra $20 once. >;[


Y'know, I've been reading my diaries, and am I really that shallow?  Wow.

I have a bunch of old pics of me right on my wicker shelf.  I was a strange looking child.  xD

Well, I should get to sleep... Bye!


March 4, 06
Hi!  I'm Katie W, born November 21st, 1994.  I'm 11 years old, and in the 6th grade.  I'm an average student, getting 2 C's, 2 B's, and 3 A's.  I have an older brother, David, a really awesome nanny, Jodie, and Mom and Dad.  I have a dog, 3 parakeets, 1 toad, and 1 gray cockatiel.  My (to-be) boyfriend is David (I asked him to a dance, that in the end he didn't go to, and he said yes).  The reason he didn't go is that he was a little embarassed.  I'm gonna ask him to the next dance, when it comes.  By the way, if you're not from 2106 when you're reading this (or when I'm still alive), hands off.  I have a rep, and I'll keep it up.  I don't care if I'm 90, hands OFF.
It all started in summer 2005, at a dive meet.  David goes to my school and is a classmate, and a team member invited him to come.  It was the first meet, and I, against my will, was an expedition diver, meaning my points wouldn't be added to my team's score.  I got really pissed, and started crying.  He was really kind one.  Okay that last sentence made no sense:  he was the only really kind person.  Okay, he's a math WIZARD.  and really (in my eyes) cool.  I colored my toe.  I'm getting bored.  Bye!

Dear Kitty,
Holas!  I just earned $25!  25 buckerunies!  Lol.  I was babysitting.  Being paid to eat food, read, and have fun.  Yay!  I babysit for a couple across the street who have 2 young daughters I'm friends with.  I'm donating the $ to Walter Reed Medical Hospital (It's for a school project, the hospital is where most soldiers go in the Iraq War go and it's in horrible condition).  While I was there, I read TTFN, which stands for tata for now!  It's the second book in a trilogy, and very good.  It's written entirely in IM form.  Bazooka.  I coined that term!  Like the gum and weapon.  It means "cool."  The book was about the lives of 3 friends.  They're highschoolers, and it was really bazooka.  One girl was turned, temporarily, into a stoner, one into her bf's whore (she's still a virgin) and the other moved from GA to CA then ran away and came back.  The girl w/ the bf she loved made me sooo jealous!!!  I want a bf I can hold, who can hold me, that I can kiss, and can kiss me.
Fortunately [Or as I spelled it in this book, fortanitly], the dance is coming up on the 27th!!!  I can't freaking wait!!!  Anna Rose, my bff, said she might invite Brandon, who last year went to St. Andrew's, and who is a really good singer... but sings like Kelly Clarkson, a famous female singer.  I sorta like him... he's pretty cool.  Who knows, maybe we'll dance.  Will bight not be there.  Kitty, KI don't think you understand how much being loved by someone outside my family (and a boy) means to me.  All of my friends have.  Not me.  Meh.  I just want a physical person to love.  There's a school art thing.  I'm gonna make a painting for.  I have a soccer match.  It's nearly 1 am.  Adios!
Ps.  I Have a feeling NIck reads this... Nick, if you do, be VERY prepared and afraid of a thoroughly pissed off me.

Saturday, November 24th, 2007
Dear Karl,
Did I ever mention that (name blotted out) has two books about me?  Like, diary/journal things.  =\ Probably with good and bad stuff in it.  (Blotted out) and I have gotten into many fights.  Especially one where he said he wanted me dead. ><  I still have that email.  Demented... It reminds me of how much I want him to stay alive and stay happy.  I was miserable for a week after getting it.  Still am. Very sad about it.  (See Pink diary).
Well, today was alright.  Woke up around 7 after having a really weird dream.  Woke up after apes/monkeys attacked my ear.  Spent two hours in a dreamlike state where I couldn't tell dream from reality.  Dreampt a lot about (blotted out) though.  Think I talked to (blotted out) and Alee.  I have no idea. xD
Went online for a while.  (Blotted out) and I talked a bit.  Not mucho. :P
Then I went off to fencing!!!!!!!!!!!  Woot!  I tried eppe fencing.  Really fun.  Kicked arse. :D  It was realy fun.  :)  Lol I tried new equipment and came out and I was like "okay what am I wearing wrong." Lol.  xD  I need new socks. :P  Srsly.  Not random.
After I came home, I didn't really talk 2 anyone.  I twas boooored.  Then Mom took me out.  We ate at Bistro 123 (I had a crabcake sammich, she had some damned good risotto) then went out and got some gifts for Annar's Bot Miztvah.  I got her a really expensive leatherbound journal ($62!!!!)  and a really cute little papier mache turtle box.  Really cute.
Then we saw August Rush.  It's a movie about a kid re-named August Rush who's a complete child prodigy and is trying to find his parents.  He's the result of a one-night stand between a cellist and a guitar/vocalist.  Really inspired me.  ^_^
Well, when we came back it was almost 11 pm.  (Blotted out) and I talked for a while, until 15 past 11.  At around 11:05 I was like "I had to go 5 minutes ago.  Should I care?" at the same time (blotted out) was like "Weren't you supposed to go 5 min ago?"  and then I was like "What, you WANT me to go?"  And he was all like "NOOO!  >Cling<"  :D  Roffles. 
We also got into a debate about the age-old question:  "If a tree falls in the woods and nobody's around to hear it, does it make a sound?"  My stance was "no."  I made his brain explode. xD
We both <3 our science teachers.  Mr. James is my idol.
(Blotted Out) also said he can't sleep after we've talked.  I was like, "Yea, same here.  once I talked with me and I couldn't fall asleep because I was wondering about if I was crazy or not."  And somehow that led into our debate (see above). 
Well, it's late.  Bye!
<3, Katie

Okay most emo entry ever, I am obligated to post it.

I hate life.  I hate it so much.  I literally had the belt around my neck.  I pulled, but not for long enough.  This might be the last entry I ever make.
Wouldn't it be so nice to die?  No worries, no stress, just laying there, no thoughts, no grades, no parents, no stupid teachers, no ADD meds... all so calm, so peaceful.  What a wonderful experience it would be to die.  I could come back as a ghost and meet (blotted out) or haunt random people.  I could go up to heaven, or take over hell.  I could be reincarnated, but hopefully as an animal.  I hate being human.
What happened to put me into such a wonderfully depressing state?
Well, Mom tried to force me to go to a French review, for a test today -- at eight in the morning.  Then I had an off-day for drawing the project in English, but I got a bit of chocolate from my "friend," Melanie.  French test.
Then, I was picked up early from School to go home and look at Burke.  My laptop was gone -- for not doing the french review (If he can't teach it to us in 2 months, can he really teach it to us in 30 minutes?), mom has confiscated my computer rights till Saturday.
Meaning I miss Valentine's day with (blotted out).
I was venting to Jodie, who got pissed at me for cursing every other word and yelling my ass off.  Lost (temporarily) my computer rights for 2 weeks.  Pulled away when Jodie tried to touch me, she slammed the door in my face.  I bike ride down to the creek and sit in a little niche and just relax and think about it all.  I get late for Dr. Jasnow's and ride home.  Jodie intercepts me on the way there.  She runs me off the road.  Delays me, then I ride home and go to Dr. Jasnow's really late.  We're now doing sessions every week, and lowering my a/d/d med prescription. 
That is, if I can survive.  There's no chance for me to get my laptop back till Sat.
What if (blotted out) takes this as a sign I don't want him any more?  Oh God, I want him with all my heart and soul... of which I have neither, but that's besides the point.  Dad dragged me upstairs after I spun the herb wheel around and everything went flyinng.  I'ma just gain 200 lbs to stop him from doing that.  -_- Or kill myself.
I'd prefer being dead to being fat.
I want to be with (blotted out).  I want to rant about the injustices of the world.  I want to die.
I hate Valentine's Day.
I hate life.
I just want to call Rose.
I just want to talk to (blotted out).
I love you, (blotted out).
Goodbye.  Perhaps forever.
"To sleep... Perchance to Dream."

Man was I a fucked up child.

Man am I weird

What makes me happier than anything else, even when I'm really angry, 100% of the time?
A lizard between my boobs.

A few weeks ago I got a leopard gecko from one of my coworkers (I work in a tropical fish store, and thus everyone who works there loves animals; he happens to breed geckos.  So, after purchasing this beautifully patterned gecko for merely $10 (Purchasing one at even a low-end store like Petco could run you into the $100 range, and they're no where near as well patterned as this guy), I brought him home and watched the movie Glory with my family.  After our first intermission (mom's first of many potty breaks), I brought him down to keep me entertained (While it's a good movie, it's too bloody for my taste).  After a little bit of coaxing he cuddled up under a little cave I made out of my hands and fell asleep for the rest of the movie.
After a little bit of research I realized that Leopard Geckos are actually one of the more sociable of the gecko species, which is quite true.
So Gezpacho, as I named him, is now my internet surfing buddy.  But here's the thing -- he stays in my cleavage.
He likes to curl up where it's nice and warm, and well, my bra tends to also make a comfy bed for him.
Sometimes his little head pokes out from in between my boobs, looking up at me, making the cutest little face!  Of course, that's his normal face, but it is the cutest little face.

I digress.

Working in a fish store is awesome.

I need a giant tank.

My parents won't let me go to Colorado because I don't have the money because I need to spend it on a tank for my fish.

It's obnoxious.

That and it's $500 for round-trip tickets for a two day trip.


God am I strange.

She thinks my tractor's Sexyyy

 It really turns her oooon
She's always starin' at meee

New favorite song.

Anyways, I was linked back here because someone linked me a blog of some random russian dude who had posted about twenty Red Panda pictures.  Of course, my mind exploded from teh cute.  I love adorable animals.
SO, from where we left off.
I went to South Dakota with my mom for three days to visit my grandparents. All in all, a very good visit.  Not much happened but I saw a modernized version of Cinderella preformed a la ballet.  It was pretty epic, although I thought it would be really fuckin' boring.
We then went up to Ely, Minnesota.  Mom stayed up there with me and Lindsey and Maggie for a day, before deciding I was safe.  After that, it was just me, the boyfriend's mother, and the dog.  Surprisingly uneventful.  That Friday, we drove down to Duluth where Daniel had flown in to pick the boy up.  His mom let him stay in my room (Not my idea, actually, and I would have preferred him to claim the upstairs -- HE IS SO MESSY) and then left for two days, leaving us alone for the Super Bowl.
I got to drive a car!  =]  Daniel and I were trying to go to the supermarket and their pathetic Prius (I love Prius', but they're not cars, they're lunchboxes) couldn't get up the icy driveway.  So Daniel, being the macho-man he is, got ME (who has never driven ANYTHING) to drive and steer the car while he pushed.  =]  It didn't work, so eventually he just figured out how to get it to go up with some fancy tinkering with the peddles.
So we got the groceries, then came back.
Okay I completely skipped a day.  That was Sunday when I drove.  on Saturday, I got up kind of ridiculously early to go to my internship and went snowshoeing.  It was AWESOME.  I promised myself I wouldn't fall and ended up falling twice, the most out of everyone.  I went snowshoeing with one of the Wolf Center employees and a bunch of tourists.  One of the aforementioned tourists would NOT shut up about "Kids these days" and I wanted to smack him over the head.  But of course I didn't because I am a level headed, mature teenager, unlike the people who he was stereotyping and wanted to prove it.
So after we went snowshoeing we dropped one guy off at a sled dog place and I went completely nuts over the dogs.  Whee.
Then I went back to the cabin, was told to show up at 6:30, showed up late, and wasn't let inside because NO ONE WAS IN THE OFFICE.  *rage*  So Daniel and I looked around for an open entrance, I got snow in my shoes, and then we gave up and bought pizza.
So then.  The next week was uneventful, except for Friday, when we went SNOWMOBILING AT NIGHT.  Fuck yea.
So what did I do up there, anyways?
I did a lot of organizing, learning, and watching the six wolves they had there.
Then I drove home with Daniel's Mom (not fun), missed Katsucon, and then got some fish since they all died.
I got an eel.  his name is Fred.  I got a clown loach that was so stupid he got stuck in a plastic vase and then the plastic plant.  Then he died.
And three bumblebee gobies.  They're ridiculous.
So then the next weekend I bought some zebra danios.  As soon as I put them in the tank, one of them swims to the bottom and Fred gobbled him up.
God damnit, Fred.

Other than that, life's goin' pretty smooth.

OH!  Dad got DISCUS!  at last!  they're funny lookin.

Changes and One Handed Toads.

 It's been a fucking year since I've fucking been on here, fuck it.
It's one in the morning sunday night and I can't sleep, because of some fucked up memories.

Yea, life's good, but it's changing a lot.

Daniel's going to college next year, for starters.  We have a really physical relationship, almost more than anything else.  He makes me smile, he makes me laugh, he makes me feel... beautiful, I guess.  But when he went away for even a week, we had a fight.  We never fight.  Over some bullshit a friend said to me, too, that I agreed with.
I guess I just don't work well on leashes.
It's been, holy shit, almost a year since we've been going out.  It's what, the eleventh?  Five days till our anniversary.  Holy muffins.
And yet, no matter how much we love each other, no matter how strong our bond, he and I are both extraordinarily fragile people.  We're glass.  I can only imagine how much we're going to suffer when he goes off to college.
And now I have these thoughts.  These outrageous thoughts.  "He's smothering me."  "I wish he wasn't so overprotective."  "Man I need to get off this leash."  Yea.  It's somewhat true.  But what he doesn't want me doing is stuff I shouldn't be doing.  Drugs.  Alcohol.  Stupid shit.  He's good for me.  But.... I'm only fifteen, man.  I love him with all of my heart but at the same time I don't.  I hate hormones.
My current theory is the fact I'm currently forced to be with him.  There's no way out.  (Shit, if I get married I'm screwed).  Why am I forced into our relationship right now?  Well, next month, over my school's internship break, I'm going to be up in Minnesota, in Ely exactly, working at the International Wolf Center.

And what does this have to do with anything?

I'm staying in his mom's cabin, with his mom.  Holyfuck.  She's grumpy, she's annoying, she's stupid, she's.... GRRR.  I dearly hope I won't be like her when I grow up.  Jesus christ.


So yea, that's one thing.

Then there's the whole "Shit what am I" thing going on.  My second identity crisis, I guess.  My first one was in middle school, when I didn't really know who I was.
I'm gender queer.  I'll freely admit this.  My boyfriend doesn't know, though.  Yea, I'm bi.  But I also want to be genderless.  I don't want to be a girl but I don't want to be a boy.  I want to be both.  I want to be neither.
I just want to be me, I guess.
I'm becoming slightly concerned about my religious beliefs, too.  Yea, I'm a hard-core athiest, but I'm also uniterian universalist.  I believe in a shitload of different things, and I'm all so confused about it.  One moment I'll believe in reincarnation and the next I'll be sure there's nothing after this life.  It's all so... unknowable.

And I don't know where I am with friends, either.  I have one good friend but Daniel and I are sure he likes me.  I'm terrified of girls.  I'm awkward with people.  I feel like people are just slowly drifting away from me.  It's so hard for me.  I love to be anchored but my chain has been severed.

Daniel's like the moon for me, changing my tides.  He's the reason for a lot of this, I guess.  He controls me in a lot of ways, because he's so scared I'll do something to desert him.  But every time I bring this up to him I end up feeling like an idiot for bringing it up.  I love him so much but I just want him to trust me, even when I don't even trust myself.

Shit life's complicated.


Tonight I got up because I was thinking about what happened last year, the main thing that helped me grow but keeps Daniel terrified of me.   What happened last year with one of my friends, before Dan and I started dating.  There was a journal entry here.  I needed to see it.  I understand why it happened now.  I knew why it happened on my part but not on the other person's part.  Erg.  It's so awkward now.

There's school.  There's friends.  But at the center of it all is him.  I know I want my independance, but he's part of me.  I'm part of him.  I love him more than even I can imagine.  It's just so hard.

On a lighter note though is pets.  Let's start out with the dark stuff.
My dog Pop Tart died.  We had to put her to sleep.  D:  She had stage five lymphoma when we detected it.  There was nothing we could do, and if there had been anything we could have done, we would have done it.  I love her so much.  She's still my little puppydog.

I got new toads!  I've had very bad luck in the past with my firebellied toads.  I've gotten four toads in total, previously.  I originally bought Fire and Wart.  Fire escaped.  Then I bought Sweet Pea.  Sweet Pea escaped.  Then I bought Forrest Gump.  He escaped.
So this time I bought them in bulk.  One of them is rather small and the other two are very big.  The biggest two are Captain Hook -- technically I "adopted" him because he's missing a hand -- and Rorin Stronghammer.  Rorin is HUGE.  But he's not eating.
The smaller one is Smee.  He's TINY, and Rorin and Captain have both tried to eat him.  I saved him all three times.
They're chirping, too.  Rorin's so big he even croaks.

I'm gonna get a bunneh!

Life's good.  But it's so confusing.  I want out but I don't.  I want change but I'm terrified of it.  I'm going to be torn to shreds when Daniel goes to college.

I guess I just need help.


Hi there, livejournal.


Or whoever the hell's reading this.

I guess, uh, I'll give a few things to say about myself then.

One:  I ramble. Somehow I got on a tangent about hot sauce with my violin teacher today.
Two:  I make no sense.
Three:  Sometimes, I feel like I'm fucking bipolar.  Never take what I have to say seriously.  Half the time it's a fucking cry for attention (sobsob, emochild, deal with it you fuckers), other times I'm just trying to be tough and strong (trust me, i'm not), or I'm just being fucking cold.  Honestly?  I very rarely actually give a fuck about what's going on.  I guess i've been fucked over too much to care, eh?  HOLYSHITMYBUTT'SVIBRATING.  oh wait, that's my phone.  Yup, daniel.  Texts me about 14 hours a day. ;\  "Hello?"  Apparently one of his texts didn't get through.
...Told ya I ramble.
Four:  I try to play up my weaknesses to get sympathy.  Oh well.
Five:  I'm a sour little fucker who hates people.
Six:  I hate spicy food.
Seven:  I am the worlds biggest muthafucking hypocrite.
Eight:   I probably actually couldn't care less.
Nine:  I act like a spazz merely to get laughs.  Even if its laughing at me, instead of with me, I still get people to laugh. ^-^
Ten:  Sometimes I act like a slut just to see who wants me.  o_o
Eleven:  I want to stab my older brother.
Twelve:  I can't fucking wait to move out.
Thirteen:  This is my favorite number.  Love it, bitches.
Fourteen:  I got a live journal just cuz my friends had one.  And stuff.  Yea.
Fifteen:  I am a violent little weirdo.

Yea.  I'm hungry.  God damnit.  D;
Dinner time.  Gotta go.
I'll post more later?  Idk.  Probably not.  Cya.