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.

Dec. 23, 1998.

It's raining outside, and it's loud, and windy, and beautiful. I need to write soon. So that I won't let my co-author down. I'll do that soon. I'll try.

I haven't seen Skylark again, yet. I get a bit restless when I wish that I could see her, and she doesn't come on.

Maybe I should try calling to her, with my mind and heart, as I've done before. It worked, at least one time that I did it, if not several. What I would give to have her be as attracted to me as I am to her...

I do more than just lust after her, now. I would give so much to get to know her personally, and more for us to fall in love with each other... Though, nothing would I give which would effect my life too far in the future, and nothing I hold truly important. In the cosmic sense, ours would be a passing romance, but I would still give much for it to happen.

Skylark, if only you knew how I feel... and could find it within yourself to return my feelings with equal strength... And, if only our love could grow into something huge, and beautiful, and wonderful...

I... would like to love you, Skylark. If you'd give me the chance.

*sighs, smiles a little*

Oyasumi nasai, Skylark-chan. Nikki-chan.

Sleep well, both of you.

Love eternal

- Vale

Notes from 2010: December 23, 1998.

I was attempting to co-author a Sailor Moon fanfic with someone I'd met online, which is the writing I talk about at the beginning of this entry. Sadly, I procrastinated too much to uphold my half of the story.

I also talk a little about magick here--"call to her with my mind and heart" and all that.

Even then, though I thought of myself as a "hopeless romantic" (which is far from the case these days), there was a limit on how much I was willing to consider sacrificing for love. I have usually drawn very strong lines between crush feelings and actual love, and unrequited and romantic love (though you'll see them blur in my mind with my crush on Mark in future entries), and there have always been things in my life that are more important to me than finding "true love". The potential for success, for instance. The ability to write. There are things I would never give up for the love of anyone, and that's always been the case. Some things are just worth more than that.

"Oyasumi nasai" means "good night" in Japanese. "-chan" is a Japanese diminutive used for young girls and close female peers.

Dec. 5, 1998.

Let's see--a car, driving lessons, a new computer.

The first two I definately need to pay for myself. The third, I ought to pay for, myself. I mean, I'm the only one who uses it, right? So, I need several thousand dollars.

Where can I get that? The driving lessons I have pretty much taken care of. I definately need a job, now.

Only a few days to go, ne?

I'll be doing what Iris does, I guess. My homework, job-type-work, and musical rehearsals. Plus, if I continue, my improv class once a week,

But, I really need a job. Both for the new computer, or at least repairs on the old one, and for a car.

And, once I have that, university, so that I don't have to stay in this hell hole for years to come.

I'm going to go write Sheila now. I'll probably come back to this later.

Jya-ne.

- Vale

Notes from 2010: December 5, 1998.

I mention Iris for the first time in this entry. I'm a little surprised that it's taken this long for her name to come up, but I like to think it's because I had so few issues with her, she didn't have a place in the more ranty entries.

Sheila was a c-penpal I can't remember anything much about anymore.

You see my independent streak coming through again here. I was, in the moment, dead serious about wanting to do everything myself. But because I was always speaking in anger when I swore to make it completely on my own, I was never much for the follow-through. I never did get my first paying job until the summer after I graduated from high school.

I also mention the school musical for the first time. I was in the extended chorus--i.e. the people who had to be included because the staff in charge wasn't allowed to turn anyone away if they wanted to be involved. Witness my amazing talent for performance. Musical rehearsals were, more often than not, miserably lonely for me, especially since Iris had to drop out of the chorus due to lack of time. I stuck with it--to this day, I'm not entirely sure why--and that becomes important later on in terms of some people I meet through rehearsals, and my big (silly) high school crush, which I developed there.

Aug. 3, 1998.

I really need to take one of those long, long walks of mine again.

I haven't seen Skylark since, apparently, June. That's okay, I've given up on her. I'm never on-line anymore, anyway. I don't chat, and I haven't answered my e-mail in pretty much forever. I just can't bring myself to answer my mail. As for chatting, why bother? What reason have I to go on those? None. Easy answer. I have no more friends there than I do IRL. In other words, none. I was right when I said that this was not a mere passing lonliness.

I cannot wait to finally escape out of this city. I don't care anymore if I have to work in a McDonald's sort of job until I'm 40 to save up enough money to go to university, if Dad's parents won't pay, unless I go to the one here. If I'm forced to stay here for that long, I'll probably kill myself.

I'm so lonely... I have no one who loves me, here. No one who loves me enough not to constantly hurt or ignore me. I need to get away, and, at the very least, be an outsider in another place. Maybe I'll get involved in some sort of exchange program in grade 12... or, if possible, next year. Get away, on my own, and either make friends elsewhere or be a loner, an outsider, in a different setting, as I said.

Hannah only wants to do things with Stacie. Stacie doesn't seem to like me. Or, perhaps, she's just shy. I don't know. Either way, when I'm with them, they ignore me, when I'm not, they want to keep it that way.

Izzy never calls me, although he always says he will. Next time he tells me that I'm just going to tell him not to bullshit me, and leave. He has other friends, and for all his pretty words about us being his "real" friends, he ignores us. I'm obviously no longer one of his best friends. And, that "real" friends stuff is just more bullshit from someone who's turned out to be one of the biggest lying bullshitters I know.

I think I'll go on one of the chats, talk about how I'm depressed and no one gives a shit about me, and actually try to alienate myself further than I've already been alienated. I don't need them. None of them.

I only need me. I'm fine entirely on my own.

Jya-ne.

- Vale

Notes from 2010: August 3, 1998.

There's a pretty big break between the last entry and this one. That will begin change in the fall, once I start back at school. I always wrote more during the school year because I felt that much more alone when I was in a big crowd of people all day, and convinced none of them knew I existed.

I mention Stacie for the first time in this entry. She's an old friend of Hannah's who Hannah knew when she was really little, and who'd moved back to town after living away for most of elementary school and junior high. Her whole family was friends with Hannah's, and they'd visited each other over the years, so they clicked as friends again immediately. Stacie went to a different school than Hannah and I, so I saw her more during the summer than when we were in school. I have no idea what she's up to these days, though as far as I know she and Hannah still keep in touch.

I'd also like to note that these days I'm more much aware of how lucky I was to have extended family who could pay for my university. I feel extremely blessed not to have student loan payments, like too many people I know. And in case I don't continue this blog into my university years: yes, I did stay in my hometown for university. No, I don't regret that. I blustered in my diaries, but in the end, a free ride was too great a gift to pass up, even if I meant I couldn't go where I really wanted to. For me, it was worth it to stay.

Near the end of this entry, you'll see some of my early assertions that I don't need friends, or anyone except myself. That's something I still try to convince myself of in lonely moments, even though I've never yet managed to make it a reality. I've always wanted to be as independent as possible. But while in many ways I am (not surprisingly) more independent now than I was when I was 16, I've never gotten past the desire to have friends. I may be shy, but I do have a social side, and I doubt I'll ever be able to excise that from personality. No matter how much I sometimes wish I could. Maybe that's for the best, but I have to admit, it does still piss me sometimes off that I can't control that side of myself. Ah well.