Jan. 11, 1999.

I no longer consider it unfair that Yvonne & Co. accept Hannah, bitch that she is, more than me, who's a nice person. I am not any longer bothered by their being more friendly with her than with me. Not even by their hardly being civil to me. I don't want to be friends with them. I don't envy them their friendships at all.

They're superficial, fake, unkind, and, worst of all, they're totally conforming. Do I want to be a part of that? No. I want people to accept & care about me for me, not who I pretend to be, or who they think I am.

Yvonne and James are not terribly unkind to me, but obviously they find my presence distasteful. I'm not like them. I can hear it in their voices that they wish I'd shove off, and leave them be. Whatever. They don't know me. Why should I care if they dislike whatever the hell they think I am?

And, when Yvonne started getting annoyed while I was messing with my bag, and thanking that girl: can we say bitch? God, she, Hannah, James--they deserve each other. I don't really like any of them.

Therefore, I don't give a flying fuck what they think of me! They don't count for anything. Not a smidge. They may as well be non people, for all their opinions matter to me, now!

Can you tell that I'm pleased with myself, and totally revelling in my newfound I-don't-give-a-shit-what-the-fuck-you-thinkness? *grins* I am sooo proud that I've gotten over that silly "why don't they like me??" stage!

They count for naught! Silly people, not worth any attention! Alyssa--now that's a person who's still nice. She treats me like a peer--like a person, not a student/punching bag, nor an idiot who knows shit. She obviously doesn't think I'm stupid, and I know that she's not. I've hung out with her a couple times, in the last week, or so--it's cool. I'd like to keep doing it, but I'm not getting my hopes up. I know better than that. I'm cautious, and a tiny bit hopeful, but that's it.

God, Hannah is so becoming less and less tolerable. She sticks her hand out in front of my face, as I'm walking through the halls. Can she not get past that stage?

I'm sor

No, I'm not sorry. I was going to say that, but I'm not. At all. I swear, though, I am so sick of the whole beating-each-other-up thing we used to do in, like grade nine. I'm past it. It's just totally not funny anymore. I grew up, and out of that, earlier this year, once and for all. Once in awhile, it's still fun, but she wants it to be the constant thing, and I don't, anymore.

I think she might be getting that idea, just the tiniest bit, finally. I would hardly give her a response, at lunch, when she tried to bring it up.

What is her childhood trauma?! Why can she not give the hell up one all of that?

If she wants to keep my friendship, she's going to have to grow up, and stop doing it all the time. Once in a long while it'll still be fun, but that's it.

Can she not mature? It's childish, not childlike, how she acts.

And she talks down to me?

What shit is that?

I so cannot put up with that for another year and a half. If it lasts too much longer, and I bet that it does, then I will have to speak to her about it. Failing that (I'll have to try a few times, before she'll listen, but I'm not going to totally do it all. I won't try to force it on her, nor will I expend a huge amount of effort, if she gives nothing in return), I will stop spending so much time with her. I'll let our friendship fade and die, but I will not regress to accomodate her childish ways. It's her turn to change, to make the effort. I won't force it on her, but it'll be her loss, too, if she won't give me anything back.

I can't and won't keep putting up with this. It's not fun, nor funny any longer, as I said before, and it's turning into a minor sort of abuse.

It's nothing I need, want, nor have to put up with.

And, know what? I won't. I'll stand my ground on this one. I won't take shit from her which I don't deserve. And that is, for the most part, none of it. Hellooo, assertive me! I need to get like this constantly!

I think I've started down a wonderful, and necessary, albeit potentially painful, road! Go me!

Wish me luck, Nikki-chan! I wish you the best in everything you do, too! ^_^

I can hear you cheering me on! "Goooo meeee!!!" *laughs*

Blessed be and love eternal, Nikki-chan!

- Vale

Notes from 2010: January 11, 1999.

Yvonne was someone Hannah and I had been fairly good friends with in late elementary school and junior high. She'd found, frankly, cooler friends than us by the end of junior high--for good reason, since nerdy was never really her bag--but by grade eleven her friends and my and Hannah's group would sometimes hang out together during lunch and free periods, since we all had some friends in common.

My jealousy of Hannah's easy ability to fit in with Yvonne's friends really shines through here, in all its ugly light. Sadly, I didn't recognize it as that at the time. Though even if I had, I don't know if I'd have had the inner strength to curb it.

Hannah could be a little immature, but I don't feel like she was ever abusive, to any degree. She was just struggling to grow up, just like I was, and clinging to physical jokes that we used to pull on each other longer than I was comfortable with. If anything, I'm pretty sure I was heinously passive-aggressive with her. I'm just thankful that I never did try to cut her out of my life, since I can't imagine not having her as a friend now.

From my current, more objective standpoint, I don't think Yvonne and her friends were especially uncivil to me. As I remember it now, they reacted like a lot of people do when faced with someone painfully shy: tried to draw me out, found it really difficult, and gave up pretty quickly. It sucks for the incredibly shy person, but from the other person's perspective, it's a completely understandable reaction. It can take a lot of work to bring a shy person out of their shell, and if they're not your friend and not someone you're interested in becoming friends with... why would you bother? But I was so, so sensitive about being ignored like that--also for very good reason, since I'd been criticized for being shy for as long as I could remember. (Sometimes I still am, though I can usually laugh it off now.) So in just about any social situation, I was working my ass off to be the outgoing, easy-to-be-with person I thought I was supposed to be. It hurt like hell when no one seemed to notice, especially since I knew that ultimately it was all because I was still doing something wrong.

As you'll see in this and numerous other entries, I would frequently rebel against that feeling that I needed to change for people to like me by declaring that I would never change for anyone. Instead, I would look for people liked me for what I was, and fuck everyone else. Then I would go back to school the next day and once again find myself trying like hell to be the outgoing person I wasn't. I was always trying to convince myself I didn't give a shit what anyone thought of me anymore, because I was sure if I could manage to really, honestly not care about that, I would be able to relax enough to just be myself and not worry about what to say, how to act, or any of that anymore. I was actually thinking along the right lines, but I had no idea how to get there. I never did manage it until I was in my early 20s (and--full disclosure--in therapy).


Finally: anyone who can spot the Buffy quote in this entry gets a cookie.*




*the cookie exists only in Vale's imagination. However, she assures you that if it were real, it would be very, very delicious.

Jan. 9, 1999: Entry 2.

"Maybe I can find a place I can call my home
Maybe I can find a home I can call my own."
- Loreena McKennitt

Isn't that what we all want? What we all wish for?

A place to be home; a place to be yours. It's what I want. A place, a home, a life all my own.

I'm constantly thinking of past, present, and future. I'm a wonderfully contemplative person. No wonder I can write so very well.

I will, some day, find friends, and people to love me, who I can do the same for, in return. I hope that I will, someday, even find a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, to love with all my heart. It seems unlikely, just at this particular time in my life, but, as I said yesterday--a girl can dream, can't she?

I know that there's inherent trust, there--I am a dreamer. I am an idealist, and an optimist, and, in the long run, I know that I will be happier, and better off than most, for it.

Know what? I am. And I will be. And I will do and be my best. And, I will succeed. Not to show anyone up, not to prove myself to any but my own self. No, I will succeed only because it's what I want to do; what I want to happen.

What I want to be.

After all, I'll only live this life once.

Why not make the best of it?

I'll make it wonderful, because I want and need it to be. No bad ifs, ands, or buts about it. Only the good ones.

I will make it be so. And, so, it will be done.

So Mote It Be.

Blessed be, Nikki-chan.

- Vale

Notes from 2010: January 9, 1999: Entry 2.

The lyrics are from "Dickens' Dublin" by Loreena McKennitt. It's a beautiful song. I still love it, for pretty much the same reasons I did back then. I'm still trying to find a place that really feels like home, and people I have that close connection with. I still hope that I might. I'm still fundamentally a dreamer and an idealist--though I'm not so sure about the optimist part.

I'm surprisingly positive about myself in this entry. It's nice to see.

You can also see my ambitious streak coming through here. I'm still hell-bent today on making something of myself in some way that feels meaningful, and I still have hope I might achieve that. It's always been about proving myself to myself. It still is. I've always wanted to do something that mattered in the world, and I'm still reaching for that goal with everything I do. I guess that's a big part of why I'm here tonight, updating this blog.

And if I try really, really hard, I just might be able to find a way to use "still" one more time in this commentary before I'm done with it. Hey, there we go! Mission accomplished.

Jan. 9, 1999: Entry 1.

Nihao, Nikki-chan.

I should be studying, so this'll probably be short.

I've got nothing in particular to say--just needed to write. I just finished Lord of the Vampires. **Incredible** book! That series is my favourite that I've ever read. It's wonderful!!! I'm glad beyond words that it wasn't just a sad ending for everyone. I'm glad (more than glad, ecstatic) for them all who lived happily ever after, in the end. I will miss them, but I will read the books over, and over, and over, so we will not be parted for long.

Why does it frighten me, to think about the guy I was telling you about yesterday? It half terrifies me to contemplate him, now. Is it because I'm afraid of making a fool of myself, or rejection? Or is it because I'm afraid of actually someday loving someone intensely? Or is it something about him himself, which causes fear to come into my heart, when I think about him? Is my fear tangible, or is it irrational? Could it be because he may be so much older than I? Or, could it be something else?

Ahh, this is the sort of magickal, wondrous night when I wish I was out driving. Driving nowhere in particular, or on my trip cross-continent. Or, perhaps, living on my own, and singing, and dancing around alone in my apartment.

Something pulls me, calls to me, on nights such as this one. I can't explain it, but it's always there. On nights like this, it's so much stronger than on other ones. I love it, this pull on me, and I only wish that I could follow where it leads me, but, as yet, I cannot.

Someday, I will find out. Someday, I swear it.

Someday.

I want to get into a car, and drive, just drive, where the wind bids me go. It's Somewhere far from here, but I know nothing more than that.

It may not even be anywhere I can get to just by car. I don't know.

I best go study my chemistry, now, Nikki-chan. I'll probably write another entry in you later tonight.

Love eternal,

- Vale

Notes from 2010: January 9, 1999: Entry 1.

The book series I reference at the beginning of this entry is the Covenant With the Vampire series by Jeanne Kalogridis, a trilogy that serves as backstory to Dracula. I'm not the superfan I was back then, but I'd still recommend her books to anyone who likes the original Dracula.

I should probably be mortified to admit this, but I can still get that fannishly excited about a story I'm really, really into--be it a book, TV show, movie, manga or comic series, whatever. And relatable characters have always been the most important factor for me in whether I connect with a story. Back then there was the extra layer of helping to alleviate some of my loneliness: I barely had any real friends, but feeling emotionally connected with characters in books helped me feel less completely alone in the world. On the other hand, knowing that imaginary characters were the closest thing I had to friends could also make me feel that much more lonely and depressed when I was in a self-hating mood. But losing myself in stories I loved was one of the healthier coping mechanisms I had, and one of the ones I'm glad I've held onto. When I need it, it still works for me.

"Enigma Boy" comes up again in this entry, much to my current-day chagrin. I'm pretty sure the fear was plain old fear of rejection and making a fool of myself, though I guess I can't say with absolute certainty that it wasn't more than that. Full disclosure: I've done a 180 with the whole "hopeless romantic" thing in the last 10 years, in that I would have called myself one when I was in high school, and barely consider myself at all romantic (at least in the love sense) today. I find it hard not to write off high-school-Vale's feelings in crush entries, because I just so don't think that way anymore. So if my commentary on that stuff seems a bit cynical, that's why. I'll try to keep the snarkier cynicism at bay as much as I can. I don't want to alienate anyone--but I do reserve the right to make fun of myself at least some of the time. I mean, ten years from now I'll probably be laughing at a bunch of the shit I've got up to in my 20s, you know?

One thing that I can still get all starry-eyed romantic about is wanderlust. I still feel like that sometimes--like I want to just jump in my car, start driving, and figure out where I'm going whenever I happen to get there. I haven't managed a cross-continental road trip yet, but I would still love for that someday to come. Who knows, maybe I'll eventually set aside some time to make it happen. I kind of love that that's a possibility now.

"Nihao" means "hello" in Mandarin Chinese.

Jan. 8, 1999.

I'm confused.

I've been asking myself, lately, if you can have a crush on someone you've never actually met. Each time, I tell myself no.

I still keep asking.

I've passed by him twice on the street. Long, black leather duster-ish coat. Black jeans. Maybe a red shirt, the first time I saw him--I can't remember (how can I not remember?). Bleach blonde hair with brown roots. Longish hair--about the perfect length. Not the most beautiful face in the world--but, oh God, his smile, and the wonderful, enigmatic, almost dangerous look in his eyes... He's amazing. If his personality is half as incredible as his smile, I would give so much to get to know him.

I know that I know nothing about him, and that the only reason why I could really have a crush on him is because I've made things up about him in my head.

What I'd like is to get to know him, so that I can crush on him, or not, for real.

Others pale against him, right now. Except for Skylark, of course--I think I'd still prefere her to him, because I like her for what I know she is.

But, other than her... that cute guy, Adam, in my English class? Nothing. The cutie from the lunch room? Not a chance. That guy, Ethan, from last year's art class wouldn't even stand a chance now.

Y'see, my bleach blond boy is a bit of an enigma--his smile, the look in his eyes, how I don't even know his name. I'm good at guessing approximate ages, but I can't tell if he's 18 or 28! He's so cool looking.

He dresses so vampire--so Spike, to be exact! The long, leather or faux leather coat, the jeans, the hair... if it was intentional, well, even better!

Hmm.. Enigma Boy. I like it. He seemed to smile right at me when I passed him, and when I was across the street from him, and kept glancing. He did the same, I think, when I saw him the first time, too.

I wouldn't give up anything that would affect/effect me majorly in the future to get to know him, but less than that, I would.

I would love to at least learn his name, and his age. And if he is really into vamps, or if he just dresses like that for the hell of it and 'cause he likes the styles.

If he really is into vamps, and dresses vampire-ish intentionally, well, then he'd be even cooler than I already think he could be. If he had a bitchin' personality, that is, of course.

*laughs* Wishful thinking, much? I bet that nothing ever comes of all this. But, a girl can dream, can't she?

Love eternal,

- Vale

Notes from 2010: January 8, 1999.

My modern day answer to the question I pose in the first lines of this entry? Pfft, no. Don't be naïve.

The guy I talk about in this entry (and who will, sadly, continue to be mentioned in other entries for a while) was some dude who looked vaguely like Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That was the entire basis for the "crush": since I didn't know anything about the guy except what he looked like, I could pretend to myself that he was actually somewhat like Spike. (Spike and Faith were my big character crushes on Buffy. Yes, I've always liked the badasses. Still do.) I never knew his name, never spoke to him, never had any actual contact with him. It wasn't even really worthy of being called a crush, but I was lonely and painfully shy enough that it passed for that at the time. Hey, at least I was mostly honest with myself about there being no real basis for my feelings. I've always been pretty self-aware about shit like that.

Once again, I talk about the idea of giving something (but not too much) up for the opportunity to get to know him. I was all about bargaining with my Gods in those days. I still think that way sometimes, those less often now.

Jan. 6, 1999. (ED trigger warning)

Just a quick note, Nikki-chan. To quote from Go Ask Alice: "I'm going to start a diet this very day... Not one more bite of chocolate or nary a french fried potato will pass my lips till I've lost (my number inserted) 20 globby pounds of lumpy lard."

I gained back two or three pounds, so I'm going to not eat a single snack until I've at least gone back to 154, or so! How could I possible have gained so much weight?! I haven't been exercising less (I'm going to start doing that every day as soon as exams end), nor eating more, except for a little lapse today. How can I be getting fat again?! I'll lose at least 18 pounds, though, and get down to my ideal weight of 140 pounds! That would be wonderful! And, I'll stick to my "one sweet thing per day" rule religiously from now on! Once I allow myself to snack again, that is--none at all, until I'm back to what I should be for now: 154!!

I don't like how I look, now--I can see the excess fat on my body. I know that I still weigh less than I did before the 20-whateverth of December, but that's so not the point! Just being less than 160 isn't good enough. I need to be thin!!! Or muscular--both, preferably! Gym membership, here I come!

Now, though, I have to get back to studying for exams.

Wish me luck, Nikki-chan!

- Vale

Notes from 2010: January 6, 1999.

I mention Go Ask Alice again in this entry. Despite being a complete teetotaler (lame as hell word for it, but I've never felt like it would be quite truthful to call myself straight edge, so there it is), I identified deeply with some of the shit Alice goes through as an addict: how lost she is for most of the book, and how her diary is sometimes her only friend and all that keeps her sane. I know now that the book has been heavily edited and fictionalized to drive home the "drugs are evil & wrong" message, but despite having to take it all with a grain of salt, it's still a book that means a lot to me because it was so close to my heart back then. I still have a copy of it around somewhere, and it'll probably always have a home on my bookshelf.

ED trigger alert: The dieting stuff. I've had body image issues pretty much since puberty, and I definitely ate to comfort myself as a teenager, though I didn't think of it that way at the time. I always felt fat and unattractive, and had no confidence whatsoever in my looks. I was constantly making resolutions to diet and exercise more, following them for a short time, then giving up. I did tend to lose weight during musical, since rehearsals kept me busy and I probably didn't have as much time to sit around and eat, but I gained it all back as soon as the musical ended. I was also a late bloomer with fashion and makeup, so I was just starting to get into that in tenth and eleventh grades. Sadly, my body image bullshit hasn't changed significantly in the past decade, and has been compounded by an ED-NOS (Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified--i.e. doesn't quite fit into any of the official eating disorder categories--for those of you lucky enough not to know the lingo) that I'm somewhat recovered from. Logically, I'm aware that I'm in much better shape now than I was as a teenager. But I still feel fat and ugly most of the time.