18 April 2000, Tuesday

I wrote like five entries in my head today while walking to and from class.

I think Henry Miller was on to something when he wrote, "I ought to be rich enough to have a secretary to whom I could dictate as I walk, because my best thoughts always come when I'm away from the machine."

I suppose you could just walk around and record thoughts on a hand held recorder, but at least with your secretary, it would look like you were actually talking to someone....uh, not just yourself. ;)

Can I just say that I adore my man?

I swear our girl Clueless was also on to something, by hooking up her teacher which resulted in a happier guy.

All those people who say they have given up on relationships and all that good stuff, are actually then giving up on any chance of that good ol giddy boy/girl induced happiness factor. I swear I've seen people change once they get a man. It really does work. I remember in HS, there was this older cheerleader who was such a bitch. She was part of the carpool, and everyday she complained, and talked about others, yadda yadda...one day she gets in the car laughs, and jokes with us, is such a doll. I wanted her to be my new best friend practically she was so cool.

She got a man.

What more proof do I need? Not convinced? Find a diary keep reading it, watch the cycle. I'm telling you, love er, or some waning variation of it, gets a good reaction.

I like porn.

Is that bad? I mean I don't really care what you think, and in my head I don't think it's all that bad, so what does it matter what you think, but I was contemplating it earlier and....and I'm not sure where I was going with that thought, but I wonder how many girls really like it too. Unfortunately the majority of my friends are Christians and all that good stuff, so while I'm almost absolutely sure they aren't actually doing anything I still wonder if they think about it.

Now they're still human. No matter what the super Christian, but how much do they let themselves think about it? How much do they let themselves act on it? I can't even imagine my best friend masturbating (uh, not that I really would want to anyway....) but I mean, I'm not sure if she even knows people *really* do it. It's hard to gauge her naivety. Surely she has her curiosities, but I mean I can't even get her to talk about boys in a normal way, how would I even dip my toes into a conversation concerning her feelings toward masturbation and porn. I suppose as a Christian though, you shouldn't support it.

Keeping your mind pure. I understand that. I can see that. I think sex becames a sin when it takes your focus away from God. Sexuality can be a part of your expression for life and living, but it should all come back to God. Beause it all IS God.

What's on your mind the most all day long? That's your God. That's your idol. I'm not sure if God would be my number one. I'm not sure what would God would be on the listing. At least top three. I'm trying. :)

But back to sex. I swear, I just wish girls would talk more openly about it. I remember when I was in the 9th grade and my old best friend starting having sex (before my Christian flare ups). She didn't even tell me. And that's between two normal girls, no morality issues to deal with or anything. Eventually it just came out when I asked her if she had and she told me yes. And she sort of answered my questions. (I sounded like a Cosmo confirmer, going down my check list of could be experiences and what not).

It didn't really tell me anything. Although, still quite pure and naive myself at the time, there were a few remarks that are saved (or scarred, haha?) into my mind forever. Alrighty, so that's sex.

(a few reflective moments thinking about my old best friend, the one I shared my life from kindergarden up til 10th grade with.)

I wonder what she would think knowing that I have had sex. My dear best friend. We don't even talk anymore. It's best, she was terrible for me. But so perfect in this strange way. I don't understand how people can click in so many ways, but not in others. The wavelengths get crossed and trampled.

Dr. Egon Spengler: Don't cross the streams.

Dr. Peter Venkman: Why?

Dr. Egon Spengler: It would be bad.

Dr. Peter Venkman: I'm fuzzy on the whole good/bad thing. What do you mean "bad"?

Dr. Egon Spengler: Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.

Dr. Raymond Stantz: Total protonic reversal.

Dr. Peter Venkman: That's bad. Okay. Alright, important safety tip, thanks Egon.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, Life post-sex.

I feel like I should tell someone. Basically, I think that's what I was trying to say. Oh, that and I like porn. (Thanks Rayn). I like hardcore porn too, I'd feel dirty, but I don't.

Just goes to show you what you really know about someone. Depending on who'd you ask I might just be defined as that sweet, good girl, nice girl, who does her homework, and doesn't drink all that much.

And my best friend. Goodness, she doesn't have a clue about it, me. I couldn't tell her, maybe one of my other friends, but I can't tell my best. It's all uneven here.

And some part of me, wants me to tell my mom. My *mom*? I mean, sure, there's that sex talk conversation of ours lingering in my mind, "now tell me when you start having sex, because even though I don't want you doing it, i'd rather you be on birth control, than just sneaking around and being unsafe." Just sounds like a ploy of the 'rents trying to get some inside info on your social life doesn't it? But even more than that (and having someone pay for my birth control--assuming, I plan on having sex regularly now, which who knows doesn't have to be an absolute) I just....want to tell her.

My mother and I are not close. I've never been close with her. It's just how i am. She judges. I think she wants to help, and I think she's a brilliant person, and an excellent mom (although I could step in and make a couple of changes--couldn't we all?) but the reason I don't tell her things, because she just won't listen. OR she will, but she has to respond. Doesn't she know, that I just need someone to talk to?

I'm usually the listener in this lifetime, which is fine by me. I can usually take on an ear that's patient, and an eye to see the other side of the story--which hopefully I can then convey (if it looks like it needs to be said) to the person talking. But my mom, oh my mom, she just has to fix it. Or tell me what I should have done. Half the things I throw to her in passing, are desperate attempts at a conversation with her, but before I even get the chance to make the decision if I want to continue and go deeper into a trouble or concern she's instantly giving me a disapproval look, and passing her feelings on to me.

"I'm a damn teenager, it's not about how *YOU* feel, mom, it's about ME!"

Because it's all about me. Hey I'm turning 19 this week. Just one last desperate year of clinging onto my 'teen excuses and the agnst that goes along with it. yaa.