July 31, 2009


is here. Cousin, cousin, and aunt. I don't really have time to post. One of them is currently brushing her teeth, and I'm next in the bathroom. Then my teeth will be clean.

I went to the dentist today.

Oh, and I dreamt that I ate dinner with Caleb, his parents, and his little sister at their house, but it looked like my house. We ate fishsticks made of chicken and fried rice. Then it turned into Avon's house, and we looked for her shoes.

July 30, 2009

Grease is the Word

and it opens tonight. One minute ago, to be exact, but they probably haven't actually started yet.

Genie spent all day with her hair in curlers on the back of her head. She has so much hair, it looked like she'd attached a second head, then covered it with curlers so I couldn't see it.

Vicky came over for about an hour this evening. She leaves for Chechoslovakialondon etc. one Saturday. Have fun, Vicky!

July 29, 2009


Aren't you all glad that my fascinatingly imaginative subconscious is acting up again? I had this one at four in the morning last night.

It was the last day of school. I was with Nyx, and she, for some reason, had to talk to one of her teachers, so I was walking with her. There was some point thing on her report card (it sounded like the middle school point system, kind of) and she had to go talk to one of her teachers. She had 128 out of a possible 130, and I remember wondering if I had done better than that, but, because she was older, she knew and I didn't. Also, I wanted to talk to Dr. Verona, my ASR teacher for next year, but I didn't know who he was.

Then, Avon and Vicky showed up. When Avon heard about Nyx's thing, she immediately started worrying that her points were also messed up, so went with her. Vicky came with me to the third floor. We went up the stairs that are near the Continuing Ed. office. As we neared the top, we could see all the science teachers walking in the other direction. The orchestra teacher, Mrs. Kilmer (the one I actually like) came up behind us and told us to go around somewhere. Vicky and I decided that we didn't really need to see the science teachers, so we left. Also, Vicky's hair had the texture it does when it's wet, but it had a glowing color worthy of a shampoo commercial.

We went down the stairs, and they morphed into ones that looked like the double flight that went from the 5th grade hallway to the cafeteria in the elementary school Nyx and I attended. They were very crowded. As we turned to go down the second flight, Mario, who had been coming up the stairs, caught my hand. Vicky was pulled down the stairs with the rest of the crowd, and Mario released me.

"Oh, hi, bye," I said. "Have a nice summer."

"You, too. I'll see you at SHP next year."

"Yes." I nodded, and Mario went in for a hug. I was a little bit surprised, but went along with it. When we hugged, his shirt changed from white to gray and he got a bit taller, so I couldn't see his face as well. After a suitably brief hug, I started to pull back, but his arms were still closed, so I closed mine again, and then he started to pull back, but my arms were closed, so he closed his again, and then I unsuccessfully tried to untangle myself one more time before just giving in and staying there. We both laughed.

"So," I said, jokingly. "When should I be letting go?"

His voice changed, becoming harsher. "Yesterday."

"Huh?" I was confused. He was all flirty, and now he wasn't, and, aside from that, we hadn't been hugging yesterday, so the comment didn't really make sense.

"Let go. Now." His voice was firm.

"Oh," I responded, a little bit hurt, and extricated myself from his arms. Dora then came up behind me.

"Tea!" she called.

"Dora!" I squealed, and we hugged. Mario and everybody else was gone.

"I'd stay and talk, but I have to catch my bus. Bye!" she said.

I stood there for a moment before remembering that I had to catch mine as well. I went to chase after her, but she had already vanished. I emerged from the cafeteria stairs into the entrance hall of Paperclip High School. Nyx and Avon were standing there. "Nyx!"


"I have the most embarrassing story to tell you."

She laughed. I looked out for my bus, but they'd all left. I had missed my bus.

Then I woke up. I felt more distressed when I woke than I felt the time I woke up in the middle of explaining to Peter's mother that Peter was dead.


July 28, 2009


Hey, Nyx- aren't you glad that this didn't happen to you last year?

Kids on a summer trip to Beijing got quarantined, and some of them actually had swine flu, and they can't go home, and it all just sounds horribly awful. Also, they all had horrible issues with language barriers. If I was there, I would have called Gretchen and tried to get her to explain everything to me, since I wouldn't be able to understand. It seems absurd that this girls parents didn't immediately know someone Chinese who could translate. I guess I've been overexposed.

I wonder if Sam is quarantined right now. That would suck, like, a lot.

July 27, 2009

Book Sale!

At the library book sale, I bought the following:

Kiss Me, Annabel, by Eloisa James - total bodice ripper, one of those ones where you can open up the first flap of the cover and see semi-clothed kissing people. I'm looking forward to it immensely.

Bridget Jones's Diary, by Helen Fielding. I read so many references to it, I think I should read it.

Ophelia Speaks, by Sara Shandler. It's something of an extension to Reviving Ophelia, so I thought I'd give it a go. Plus, it was only a dollar.

The Queen of Second Place, by Laura Peyton Roberts. The first line on the back is "You know what four words a girl never wants to hear a guy say? You're a great friend."

The Fellowship of the Ring, by J.R.R. Tolkien. It's was 50 cents, and I read so much fantasy that is derivative of LOTR, I thought I should read it.

The Mozart Season, by Virginia Euwer Wolff. It looked pretty. I like music. Perfect match.

Dreamcatcher, by Stephen King. If this is the one Stephen King book that Otis ruined the ending of (and I don't remember which it is) I swear to god, I will steal all his books and cut out the endings.

A Woman of Substance, by Barbara Taylor Bradford, which my Mom said I should read.

Then I went to Barnes and Noble and bought an SAT prep book. I wanted to get Barron's again, since I had thought that they were good for the SAT-II. So, Mom and I went into the store and asked for SAT books. We were shown a shelf that was literally covered in books about APs, SATs, and SAT-IIs. I found the Barron's one, and they had three books: one for the PSATs, one for the SATs, and one thinner book entitled SAT 2400, Aiming for the Perfect Score. The normal one was bigger but cost the same amount, so I wanted to get that one, but Mom was like, no, you've already had exposure, get the good one, so we did.

It is by far the most pretentious thing I have ever read. It contains such helpful sentences as "A word list a day keeps the average scores away!" and goes on about how by getting higher than a 700 on all three parts, you're in the top 5% of test takers, and this book helps, and on and on and on. I feel like they're trying to capitalize on the intellectual insecurities of readers. I think the authors are figuring that the only people who buy this book are really thinking about all that. It makes me feel rather silly, to be honest. I mean, yes, I would like to do well, but I'd rather be able to study without being constantly reminded of the pressure, thank you very much. And, aside from that, I was under the impression that the '2400 hundred club,' as the book calls it, was made of people who actually got a 2400, not just those over 700 on all three parts. I'll still use the book, though, regardless of how silly it makes me feel.

July 26, 2009

Forgetfulness and Remembrance

I completely forgot to post yesterday, and I'm very sorry for that. I'll do my best to be more consistent in the future.

Yesterday, I went to Nyx's house with Dora. We mostly just hung out for a very long time. I borrowed three of Nyx's sister's books (Dream Stone, Petals on the River, and The Elusive Flame, all of them utterly ridiculous romance novels). I even went swimming- kind of.

When we got out to the beach in front of Nyx's house, Nyx ran right out into the water, Dora went in up to her waist, and I waded in almost to my knees before deciding that it was, really, far too cold and gross for this sort of thing and got back out. Dora soon joined me, but Nyx had already made it out to the raft and untied her boat. She paddled it over to us.

"How about I ferry you out?" she asked.

"No way," I responded. "You'll tip me in!"

"No, I won't."

"Will too."

"I didn't even have the idea until you suggested it."

"Hmph," I said. Dora had already climbed onto the little Laser. "Fine. But no tipping."


I climbed into the boat and Nyx pulled it over to the raft. Then she climbed onto the raft and then onto the boat. The whole thing tipped with the addition of her weight. I squeaked and quickly moved to balance it out. Nyx lay down on the front of the boat and paddled like it was a surfboard. When we came next to a buoy, Nyx climbed in and scrambled towards the side of the little sitting place.

The boat tipped dangerously. "Nyx!" I said loudly, moving to the side as a balance again. Dora even squeaked a little bit. "Don't do that! We might fall in."

"Hmmm," said Nyx. "I have a plan. Tea, hook your feet under that strap and lean all the way out of the boat."

"No way!" I said.

Dora laughed, and Nyx leaned out anyways. The boat tilted sideways, but didn't fall over, fortunately. Nyx eventually came back in, and we made it to the raft without further incidence.

We sat there for a little while, just talking, when I realized that it was starting to tilt into the water. I laughed as a memory of last summer came back to me.

"What?" asked Nyx.

"Last summer, in New Hampshire," I began, "we met another family that was staying nearby. They had a guy my age and a couple of younger girls, and a raft in front of their house that we'd play on."

"Was he cute?" Dora, of course.

"Yeah. Bit short, but very cute." I smiled, a little bit dreamily. "We'd basically hang out on the raft a lot. We played king of the raft, which pretty much involves wrestling everyone else off."

"Wrestling is fun," said Nyx.

"And, one time, we got my Dad to come on, and everyone stood on one corner and the whole thing just tipped right in and we all fell off. It was fun."

"Sounds like it."

"Yeah. Anyways, the raft tipping reminded me of it."

Ah, remembrance. I'm really beginning to look forward to vacation.

July 24, 2009

The Fbomb

the website, not the word. It launched last week, and

"The FBomb.org is a blog/community created for teenage girls who care about their rights as women and want to be heard. Young feminists who are just a little bit pissed off and very outspoken are more than welcome here."

I saw this and I was all, cool! feminism! and fun! and teenagers! Yay! So I've read some posts, and, thus far, I like it. Anyways, I just thought I'd share a fun link and a more serious one. Enjoy.

July 23, 2009

La Piedra Filosofal

Estoy leyendo el primer libro de Harry Potter en español. Me gusta mucho. El libro es devertido en todas las lenguas. Mi parte favorito es:
"Aquella tarde, Dudley desfiló por el salón, andte la familia, con su uniforme nuevo. Los muchachos de Smelting llevaban frac rojo oscuro, pantalones de color naranja y sombrero de pajaa, rígido y plano. Tambíen llevaban bastones con nudos, que utilizaban para pelearse cuando los profesores no los veían."

Estoy felíz que no necesite llevar esté uniforme.

July 21, 2009


is a great book. Genie used it for her summer reading a year or two ago. However, she used my copy, so I'm only now removing the post-its. Here are the better post-its. Note the colossal repetition.
  • She sounds like she hates school and can't wait to graduate. I would feel the same way if I didn't have any friends.
  • I like how Melinda thinks of funny names for her teachers. I used to do that with my friends at lunch sometimes.
  • Melinda sounds lonely. I would be her friend, but she's only a book character.
  • I HATE FIELD HOCKEY TOO! --the exclamation point is almost as big as the post-it note--
  • Hasn't she done her homework? She seems to have Enough time to do it.
  • I forget what potpourri is. What is it? Is it a type of food? --No. It doesn't taste good. The only time anyone ate is was in Man of Honor (or whatever the wedding movie with the hot doctor was called)--
  • I think she should join the newspaper for something to do.
  • I think Melinda would have fun in a musical.
  • I think the idea will work. Something good has to happen in this book.
  • Melinda should write the story of her life, quite school, and more to Australia if she hates her life so much.
  • That teacher sounds kind of creepy.
  • I think Melinda's math skills are somehow going to help her find more friends and solve her problems.
  • I don't like algebra, either. It's confusing.
  • Poor Melinda. She sounds really and truly lonely. I feel so bad for her.
  • It's mean that people talk about Melinda behind her back.
  • I like the WOMBATS!!
  • I think she needs to see a shrink
  • I wonder what Melinda will grow up to be.
  • her mom must ba a terrible cook. I feel lucky. My mom is a great cook.
  • This book would make a good TV show
  • I've never studied fruit before. I sounds like it would be fun to do some experiments with.
  • Melinda needs more friends. I feel sad for her.
  • I like David. He sounds cool.
  • There are tons of words that rhyme with wombad. At, bat, cat, frat, fat, mat, Matt, Mat, flat, Aristocrat...
  • I really want to know what happened! when will I find out?
  • she should join the basketball team. Melinda is really good and it's a chance to become friends with Nicole again.
  • The basketball team does not sound very good.
  • I think in the end Melinda will be able to draw/make/carve a perfect tree.
  • I wonder what she means by "if" I grow up.
  • Dissecting a frog sounds GROSS. Some smells (like dead frogs) make me feel like barfing.
  • I'm not surprised Melinda passed out. I would have.
  • Modeling sounds like an interesting career.
  • I feel bad for Melinda. Her family is so disconnected.
  • AH-HA! that's who IT is . ---- ------. Must remember.
  • I wonder what happened with ----.
  • Poor Mr. Freeman! He ruined his painting!
  • I think they should have stuck with the wombats.
  • Melinda needs to go into therapy she isn't even trying to live.
  • Melinda is going to end up in rehab if she keeps going like this.
  • I hate it when teachers wear the same clothes as you
  • I think Melinda should try paper mache
  • I feel bad for Melinda. Her only friend is blowing her off!
  • I liked valentines day in elementary school.
  • I wonder who the valentine is from
  • I feel so bad for Melinda. She should really get some professional help.
  • Why won't Melinda talk?
  • I wonder if Melinda will ever talk again.
  • I wonder if Melinda is ever going to return to her normal life.
  • I wonder why Melinda doesn't want Mr. Freeman to meet her mom.
  • Why is Melinda so intent not to talk at all?
  • Poor Melinda. No friends. No siblings. No one to talk to.
  • I bet Melinda is going to make up with her old friends eventually.
  • Melinda should call her parents. They're probably freaking out right now.
  • She should get some sleeping medicine.
  • I think she is about to tell what happened.
  • Maybe she can't sleep because she's pregnant.
  • Melinda needs HELP!
  • Mr. Neck is sooooooooo MEAN!
  • good plan
  • Melinda needs a lawyer.
  • She should go on a date.
  • Poor, poor Melinda.
  • She really is sick. I would have thought she was just pretending.
  • Melinda should play tennis for something to do.
  • Yay Melinda!
  • Poor Melinda
  • Go Melinda
  • I wonder how the story will end.
  • Good idea Melinda

July 20, 2009



without the s

and with an e

instead of a u




i can't type

at all


i can see that


you are the most sporadic conversationalist ever, by the way

you start writing everyday for like, a week

and then stop

and I forget about you, again

and now you're online

and I'm like

"DUDE! he totally stopped talking to me! wtf?"



in my head


well i only write when i have something to say


that's probably a good method

I lack that skill

I kind of just write

and write

and write


i can see that


similarly to how I talk and talk and talk

well, most of the time

not all the time

and I don't know where this sentence is going

of course, it's really an incomplete sentence


I'll just, um, shut up now


that's nice

go on AIM if you want to rant to me




I'm not even sure I have anything to rant about

to be honest

caleb: that's nice

tea:how was ur day?

caleb: boring

tea: ohmy dog is kind of dying and the blood is grossing me out so I've been hiding in my room

and I barely do anything

celeb:...ur dog is KINDA dying?

tea: just, like, procrastinate patent work


last time it happened

he went into remission

maybe he will again

maybe he won't

caleb: cancer?

tea: he was given a month to live a year aho


and yes, nasal cancer

it's awful

bloody nose, everywhere!

caleb:that totally sucks

tea: yeah

that just about sums it up

caleb: how old is ur dog?

tea: 9

or 10

I'm not sure

which is pretty old

for his breed


it's still sad

we've had him since he was a puppy

caleb: yea it is

tea: but to be honest, I'm not THAT sad

shouldn't I be crying or something?

like, I know that I should be sad

so I kind of am

but I'm also kind of like


so then I feel bad

and gahhh

I'm sorry for making you read this


for all I know

you aren't actually reading

just like, half paying attention

caleb: i am totally reading

tea: and oh

I appreciate it

caleb: np

tea: haha

how's your science thing going?

caleb: boringly

tea: aww

por que?

aka why?

caleb: because i sit in an office

tea: ooooh


caleb: and take a water sample once an hour

tea: sounds.....exciting

caleb: for like 8 hours straight

tea: what do you do the rest of the time?

just sit there?

I see how that could get rather repetitive

it may even be worse than gardening

which is what my mom makes me do every now and again


tea: okay

I think I'm ranted out, at this point

thank you

caleb: that's nice

tea: is that your catchphase?

caleb: i think u need some friends

...like some REAL friends

tea: ass

I have real friends

but one's in ny

and one's in ny

for a different reason

and another has a broken computer

caleb: oic

there's no need to be so defensive

i was jokin


tea: I get defensive easily

I think it's a symptom of horribly geeky middle school years

which you don't need to hear about

caleb: thank goodness

tea: and, actually, I think I'll call my friend with the broken computer

so, farewell

caleb: bye

-------end of conversation---------

Is it wrong for me to start conversations with him for the sole purpose of being able to write blog posts about it, because absolutely nothing of note is happening in my own life, so I feel the need to try to dredge something of interest from the lives of others? I don't know.

July 19, 2009


Rufus's nose is bleeding.
Rufus's head is twitching.
Rufus is sad.
Rufus might be dying.
Tea is also sad.

July 18, 2009


The Sturken encounter was fine. We actually ended up talking for a couple of hours, but it was just as friendly people, with nothing of the something of before. The Harry Potter movie was fabulous. It completely destroyed the book, but it was horrifically exciting. Julie spent a lot of time saying "it didn't happen like that!" and Gretchen and I clutched each other at the very predictable sudden zombie appearance. It was fun.
In other news, I'm going to blatantly steal another portion of Nyx's life. Can I help it if she's doing more interesting things than I am? After all, no one really wants to read about Sturken and I complaining about are siblings and noting his anger issues. Actually, I'll tell you anyways. He hit his sister's arm a few weeks ago because he was just so mad at her, and he needed somewhere for the violence to go, and I said that I'd never experienced that sort of violent impulse, and his response was that he did kind of have some anger issues, but "I'm not a psychopath! really!" My response was, "if you were, I think I'd have noticed by now."
He agrees with Nyx that our hometown is stifling. "London's really opened my mind," he said. "Not that your mind isn't open. You seem really, uh, universalist." I laughed. "It's just, for me, I was really close-minded before I left. Kind of a jerk, really." He still used gay as an insult once during the evening, so he must have been truly awful before. I told him about the boob bead (minus the boob part) and he thought it was kind of awesome in a rather gross way, but recommended that I not tell Mario. We gossiped some, and he agreed that Johannes is really rather odd. We mostly just talked, on and on and on, for literally hours, while he played some racing game on our gamecube and I hid in the basement from my sisters, who were playing fashion show. He showed himself as perpetually more flawed as the time wore on. At first, he made fun of me for being on the math team. Then, later, we talked about SAT-IIs, and he mentioned that he'd actually been on it in middle school. It's nice that he takes the IQ thing for granted. He willingly admitted that I was a bit smarter than he was, but it didn't seem to bother him, it just was. I think that since we've known each other so long, we take the things that would normally make us inaccessible (my nerdiness and his excessive athleticism (he can do A LOT of push-ups. It's scary)) as just part of who we are.
It's odd, really, how different it was from the last time I saw him. I still like him, obviously, but it's lost all of the physical attraction that there was. I think I've finally managed to file him under extended family. He's just another one of the endless string of odd cousins. Shelby, on the other hand, just can't get used to it. When she was eight, during my nightmare trip, she informed the family that "I want to hit him, but I don't know why," and proceeded to attack him. Yesterday, while we were standing around in the yard, she just spontaneously bit him. It was entirely bizarre. He was shocked at first, but when we talked it over later, he seemed to be over it. "It's funny, really, you and Shelby," he said.
I sighed. "Yeah, I just can never understand her. Genie I get, but Shelby's just completely alien."
"Well, you're really polar opposites. You're a complete introvert, and she's more extroverted. She's entirely impulsive, and you think before you act. And then Genie's somewhere in the middle."
Poor Genie, always somewhere in the middle. If I didn't love her to pieces anyways, I'd feel bad.
Oh, he remembered me talking about Gretchen two years ago, and continues to deliberately mispronounce her name, and he even talked about Nyx's biking accident. He said everyone thought she was going to die, which is, really, kind of awful.
Speaking of Nyx, she's gone and had another accidental date. The boys seem to be falling all over each other to get to her =). Direct quote below.


if my head were ANY denser, my brain would be a ShamWOW towel.

that is my analogy for last night. yay for un-dating!

i went to see harry potter with this guy. i've thought of him as like an older brother before, so i didn't think it was that weird. even when we saw the preview for twilight, in which bella says to edward, "it's my birthday, kiss me" and he leaned over and said, "it's my birthday..." i thought he was joking. i mean, he didn't protest when i paid for my own ticket.

after the movie we went to longshore because i had never seen it at night before. we sat on one of the catamarans and talked for a really long time. finally my mom's friend called and asked where i was, and i said i'd be home soon. Yamaha pulled me closer on the catamaran, but still i was just thinking, "this can still be friendly, right?" finally i said we should go, and he leaned over towards me.....dialogue to follow in next post.

what are you doing?
What do you mean, what do you think I'm doing?
Don't do it!
Why not?
Dude, really....
It's just....you're twenty-two!
So what if I am?
You're six years older than me! Doesn't that mean anything to you?
No. It doesn't.
Why not?
Why should it? Ulysses and Cleo are about the same distance apart.
Seriously! I'm sixteen!!
I know.
Doesn't that bother you?
Why not? Why doesn't it bother you?
What do you mean, why?
Why....am I your favorite dispatcher? (reference to earlier at work) Why me?
Well, I've really enjoyed this conversation we've been having....(lists random reasons that don't mean anything)....and i'm attracted to you.
That's it? You're attracted to me? That's silly.
No it's not. That's what it's about!
Seriously. You're ridiculous.
Are you lecturing your elder?
You need lecturing.
Come on, are you afraid?
No. I'm just not interested. I don't think of you that way, I think of you like a brother.
Then why are you sitting here with me...like this?
I would sit with my brother like this!! Well...not like this, precisely....(indicating closeness of faces)
This conversation went on for some time, but i didn't give in. Finally i sat up and turned to him, saying:
Wait. is this gonna be awkward tomorrow? Because if it's awkward I'll punch you.
I'd rather you didn't punch me.
So don't make it awkward.

later on, walking back to the car.

Okay wait. This is ALREADY awkward. Stop it. You need to learn how to not be awkward!
And you need to learn how to not be afraid.
Do not. I'm not afraid of anything.
Yeah you are. You totally wanted to kiss me back there.
I did not. You wish.
You're being preposterous.
Yeah, okay Nyx....

fortunately after that we got back to normal conversation.

July 17, 2009


Maybe Sturken just won't show up? The rest of his family, but not him. I'm trying to decide whether that would make me happy or sad.
I reread the seventh Harry Potter book today and yesterday. Rather than crying when Harry decides to die, as I normally do, I cried at the epilogue. The epilogue! The goddamned epilogue that is tacked on and completely ridiculous. Harry was being such a good Dad, and the kids were so cute, that my eyes just started welling up. I didn't sob, but I did get rather more teary eyed than I would have liked. I fear that I'm growing into my Dad's crying habits.
Also, I have proof that techies don't even register on the radar of actors. Yesterday, I was painting a sign in the blackbox before rehearsal ended. Then, when it did, people came rushing in. I assumed that they were just getting their stuff, but there was an awful lot of rustling around and male voices. I peeked over my shoulder, curious. The first thing I saw was a couple of shirtless guys. I turned beet red and went back to my work. A couple of painting techies clearly didn't qualify as a dressing room breach of privacy. I could still hear them talking and changing behind me. The guy who played Danny (the one I'd seen when I turned, who was not all that fit) was making jokes about his need to work out. Then, a girl walked in from the hallway. I think it may have been one of the kids in Genie's grade, but I'm not sure. Someone made a protesting noise, and she responded with a flippant "It isn't anything I haven't seen before." I heard a muttered "that's what worries me," but the sound didn't reach her. They eventually trickled out, leaving the other painter and I in silence.

July 16, 2009


First brush with accidental lack of clothing around the landscape guys.

I had gone swimming earlier, then taken a shower, then a settled down on my bed, comfortably wrapped up in a towel, and began rereading Harry Potter. I was there for quite some time before I heard some noise behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Kerry, who was approaching rapidly. I jumped up and raced into the bathroom, where the shade was still down. I put on a long sweater that was in there, came back out, got clothes, went back to the bathroom, got dressed, and then sat on my bed and resumed reading Harry Potter. While I am aware that this could be easily avoided if I didn't run around in a towel with the shades down, the lighting is much better that way, and the only thing visible out the window is some bushes and the sound.

July 15, 2009

I Can Make a Difference

You asked, so here it is.

I stood precariously on a wall overlooking the ocean. The sky was a flat gray, and there was a strong and chilly wind. The entire world seemed to be tinted gray; the only color left was the tan of the sand and the greenish gray of the ocean water. It was the sort of setting a movie would have for a suicide, and, at that moment, I wanted my life to end. It is by far the most terrifying moment of my fourteen years of existence.

The first person I tried to tell was my mother. Through tears, I told her that I thought about bad things, that I might be depressed, that I needed help. She responded by telling me that I should exercise to get more endorphins and feel better. I ran up and down stairs, but there was no improvement. Telling her the first time had been so painful that was not willing to go through it again, so I attempted to wait it out. Two weeks later, I was getting worse, and she seemed to have completely forgotten about my problem.

I spoke again, balanced precariously on the edge of a bathroom sink. I began to speak, the words slipping through the tears. My friend looked on, concerned, not understanding why I was crying. "I almost, I almost." I was sobbing so much that a gasp worked its way into my words, but I forced them out. "Killed myself." She was shocked. I continued my story, filling in the details, explaining that I did not know why, that I did not know if it would happen again, that right then I did not want to die. I was scared out of my mind. I was shaking, and the automatic sink behind me went off, spraying my pants with water. I cried even harder. She asked if I wanted to go to the guidance office. My guidance counselor, a creepy old man who didn't even know my name, was not someone I wanted to explain this to, so I shook my head no. My friend promised to keep my secret, and we returned to lunch, me with tears on my face, hers expressing her uncertainty as to what she could do to help.

A week later, I stood in the shower under the pounding hot water, fear flooding through me, trying to let the heat and the noise drown out my sadness and loneliness. I clearly remembered the feeling of standing on that wall. It hit me that I would need only seconds to slit my wrists and finish what I had considered beginning. A battle was raging in my mind. "You don't want that" screamed between my ears, but a little fragment managed to worm its way through the noise, whispering seductively of how easy it would be to let it all go. I rand from the piece, hiding beneath the shower, but running from myself I couldn't get very far. The conflict built to unbearable levels in my mind, so I shoved my fingers into my mouth, biting down so hard that my gums began to ached, trying to give myself a tangible reason to hurt and to make the pain and sadness fade with the marks on my knuckles, just as they had so many times before. This time it didn't help. I sank down to the bottom of the shower and promised myself that Tuesday, tomorrow, I would tell.

I had written about that colorless afternoon no the wall near the ocean. It was a poem in which I tried to figure out how to put my pain into words that people could read and possibly understand. It was scribbled in my worst handwriting in the back of my science notebook. It was accompanied by footnotes and doodles in the margins, everything I felt was needed to explain. The next day I showed it to another friend, one who also wrote poems, not mentioning that it was autobiographical. She said it was creepy but well written. I had promised myself I would tell, so I whispered to her that I was the suicidal girl in the poem. She urged me to go to guidance. It took her about fifteen minutes to talk me into it. We sat across from someone I did not know, a counselor for another grade. I handed her my poem; she called my parents. I was suspended from school for being a danger to myself and others, pending a letter from a mental health professional. I felt worse than I had before.

I saw someone the next day who gave me a letter to get back in school. It was another two and a half weeks before I finally started seeing a therapist and was allowed to close my bedroom door.

A few weeks ago, that second friend moved away. I was walking home from school and trying to console myself. I reminded myself that she was just and friend, and that, without her, I'd still be in the same place I was that day. It was then I realized that I was completely wrong. She brought me in. I have no idea where I'd be if I hadn't gotten help. It could be that I would have found another way, but I could just as easily be dead. She was gone, but I was so lucky to have had her there, and to have been able to survive. I was lucky, and I felt the good luck wash over me in a wave incomparable to the pain in the shower. I was alive, I was happy. I was walking through the first snow of the year, a snow I came so close to never being able to see. I breathed in the flakes and yelled out to a street silenced by ice, "I survived!" "But," I added inwardly, "only just." It was five weeks after I first told my mother that I got help, and I was troubled long before then. I may not have scars on my wrists, but I had a problem, and it is far more common than one might guess. Approximately one in every hundred and fourteen teenagers injures themselves. For some of these teens, five weeks may be too long.

I think mainly it was so difficult for me to get help because people do not really know what to do. I think my mother may have denied the problem, although we don't talk about it at all now, so I'm not sure. Gretchen tried to be a good friend by keeping my secret. Amy finally brought me in, but I was only placed in the care of my denying parents again. People need to be educated about what they can do to help in these situations.

I can make a difference in the world by telling my story and educating people about what they can do to help. Self-injuring and suicide are topics I have yet to cover in health class. I think that some who have not experienced it misinterpret it as a plea for attention, thinking that because people are hurting themselves, they alone are to blame. I do not believe that this is true. No one wants to hurt, and causing physical pain is not a healthy way to deal with painful emotions.

People can be healed. It was six months later, summer, that I saw that I was truly better. The permeating sadness that had hung over me seemed inexplicable gone. I was lying on a hill at music camp. The sun was beating into the back of my jeans, but rather than feeling too hot, I was pleasantly warm. Scales and songs wafted through the breeze, discordant as they mixed together, but rather than being annoying, it was soothing. I smiled into the warm grass, thinking about the friends I would see later, the music I would learn to play, and the new school that I would start in the fall. The warmth of the sun felt as if it had permeated my entire being. It took me a moment to find a word for the unfamiliar feeling: contentment. The happiness in life had come back to me. My life wasn't any better, but I was.

By using what I learned from my own experience, I can help others to feel the same contentment I am now able to feel. I am starting here. This piece of writing is not private. I am spilling out my story because it needs to be learned from. Suicide is the third leading cause of death among adolescents and young adults, but suicides can be prevented. Students need to be able to tell people more easily, and those whom they tell need to learn what they should do to help.

I am a living, breathing example that it can get better when troubled teens talk, but the people they talk to also need to know what to do. I had to talk to two people before I found one who was willing to help me stick around, so that I can taste snowflakes and feel sunlight, but many people are not so lucky. I can make a difference by speaking up, so I am going to talk.

The DMV call center is a bitch. It took FOREVER, but I finally got an appointment on September 19th. In other news, who wants to go see Harry Potter on Saturday night?

July 14, 2009


is preprogrammed cell death. It's like suicide, but healthy.
Anyways, there was a post about it on Mad Scientist, Jr. today, and it reminded me of studying apoptosis during neurobiology first semester.
I totally should have written a section in my portfolio about martyrs and soldiers, dying for the greater good of humanity and whatnot, and compared it to apoptosis. However, I think the suicidal implications might have gotten me turned into guidance again, which would have been a pain.
My neurobiology biology professor (although I'm pretty sure he was actually only a postdoc) posted a bunch of apoptosis videos here. The best one I'm embedding below.

In other news, I came up with a nickname for the techie who makes me trip every now and again (although has since stopped): Gordy. The process behind it is that he is the Formerly Attractive Techie, or FAT. I came up with this while I was painting today, and I smiled a little. Then I heard a loud noise and realized that he was drilling right next to me and that my ass was practically in his face. Oops.

July 13, 2009

Nails, Screws, and the Verbification Thereof

Genie and I went to the high school and painted sets for Grease. Normally, we set up shop in the blackbox, but, today, we were out on the big stage, painting a bed white (tomorrow, we'll add the pink heart design, or PHD, not to be confused with the webcomic of the same name).
We sat on the bed and started filling in the etched heart with primer. "Haha!" I said. "I got the heart."
"Hmph," she responded, filling in the other side.
"Hey," I said, painting faster.
Then, at the exact same time, with no prior communication, we said "heart race!"
We dissolved into laughter.
"I love that we have the same sense of humor," I said.
"Transylvanian ostriches and all," she responded.
On the floor, Genie found a screw. "Look, Tea," she said. "A nail!"
"No, that's a screw."
"Same thing."
"No, a screw is twisty, and a nail is not."
"Screws go in with screw drivers, nails with hammers."
"Oh. I always thought that screws were little and nails were big."
"They aren't."
"So I gathered."
A few minutes later, as we passed by a techie making yet another inappropriate joke (they do that a lot), I poked Genie. "I definitely should have made some joke about screwing and nailing."
She laughed. "Probably. Too late now, though."
Regardless, she definitely should have made some comment like "I always thought screwing and nailing were the same thing..."
Alas, another opportunity for inappropriate humor, wasted.

In other news, I finished The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian, which was both enjoyable and interesting. Then I read two more of those ridiculous Eliosa James romances. The movie I watched tonight, Like Water for Chocolate, was actually even more ridiculous. At one point, a character became so impassioned from eating quail prepared while the protagonista lusted after her sister's husband, that she ran out to the outhouse to get herself off, but her skin became so hot that she lit in on fire and was rescued by a band of revolutionaries (they rode off into the sunset, making out on a horse, while she was totally starkers). It. Was. Weird. But kind of awesome, as well.

Also, I may possibly be seeing Sturken on Friday. We'll see if I can make it out without getting all spastically into him again. Heck, I'll be happy if I escape with my slight Mario obsession and burgeoning Ryan interest intact.

July 12, 2009


Italian Festival pt. 3
At a bit past 10, Nyx and I decided that we really should be leaving. We debated calling our parents, but Benny said he'd drive Nyx home, and I lived nearby, so it seemed unnecessary. It took forever to drag Benny out of the fair. He wanted to say goodbye to just about everyone, and he kept running into more people (a note: he is not among those who fear 'man hugs'). To top it off, he didn't actually know where his car was parked, and he didn't have automatic locks, so he couldn't flash the lights.
Very few of the automatic things in the car worked (I had a list, but I forgot it). Despite the iffy brakes, we made it up the hill, and I was home by 10:30. He and Nyx went back to Nyx's house, and she gave him the cupcakes, and they reportedly sat on the wall by the beach and talked for a while before he left. Johannes, however, had his own ideas about what transpired, as evidenced by this facebook chat between Johannes and Tawny (on Nyx's account).

Johannes: how was the ride home lol

Tawny: umm this is tawny not Nyx :):)

Johannes: haha

Tawny: shes sleeping and i know her passward so im stealing photos of myself off peoples pictures

Johannes: oohhh wats up? haha

Tawny: but her ride home was good and they sat outside for a while looking at the moon and I walked over and said hi

Johannes: u know everything dont u! thats nice u know if anything happend

Tawny: nothing did what do you know from benny

Johannes: i don't know anything

Tawny: come onnn

Johannes: thats y i was askin u haha really

Tawny: boring

Johannes: i havent talked to him since he left to drop Nyx off

Tawny: whataboule luysander lysander

Johannes: what u mean?

Tawny: umm nvm

Johannes: no tell me! lol come on

Tawny: whatever she just thought maybe he liked her so she thought it would be awk between lysander and benny and really i didnt say any of that

Johannes: ok idk

Tawny: k good

Johannes: lol

=-------end of conversation--------=

They didn't even say goodbye. This is further proof that Johannes (who took pictures of himself on Nyx's camera) is weird. Also, *ahem* Benny and Nyx, sitting in a tree, etc.

Thank you very much.

July 11, 2009

The Ferris Wheel

Nyx hates ferris wheels. She is not afraid of them, but, for some strange reason, she absolutely loathes them. However, Cormac took it upon himself (with the support of Benny and I) to get Nyx onto the ferris wheel.
Cormac failed. Nyx is, after all, an extremely stubborn person. At the last minute, Nyx ran away and Benny chased after her, leaving behind Ryan, Cormac, Lysander, Johannes, Benny's little sister, Benny's sister's friend, and I. Rather than trailing Nyx (which I have been known to do) I stuck it out, granting her and Benny some quality time. Fortunately, I managed to end up next to Cormac, across from Ryan, and diagonally across from Lysander. Ryan and I both sat with our legs over to one side so there was absolutely no physical contact. I think our knees bumped maybe once (translation: they did bump once)
Johannes got stuck with the two little girls. Ryan yelled over at him, "Johannes, you're such a Dad right now!"
"No, dude, I planned it like this," he said. Lord only knows why he would do such a thing.
"So, how's the phone search going?" somebody asked Lysander.
"Oh, pretty well. I sent a text message offering a two hundred dollar reward."
Ryan looked shocked. "Seriously?"
"Well, I actually just said 'reward if found,' so I wouldn't actually have to cough up the money."
"Is the phone actually worth two hundred dollars?" asked Cormac.
Lysander shrugged. "Probably not. But it's my phone."
As we neared the top, I looked over to the stage. Everyone was leaving, and I'd missed my sister singing.
Cormac looked down as well. When he saw someone carrying a large stuffed animal, he remembered a joke he'd attempted earlier. "Imagine seeing one of your teachers here, carrying some huge prize."
"Imagine if Mrs. V was on this ferris wheel. That would be a safety hazard," said Ryan. I didn't laugh. Fat jokes are a) rude b)disproportionately directed at women, and thus sexist and c)remind me of Livny (it's a type of russian pig), who always told them about the other orchestra teacher during biology.
I can't really remember anything else from the conversation, but I do remember enjoying it, and I definitely talked some, because I remember Ryan laughing at something I said in this way where he seemed to think about it a moment, understand it, and then decide that it was funny, as if the little comment truly deserved to be laughed at. I feel like that happened more than once, but I can't remember anything I said for the whole ferris wheel ride.
When we got back down and found Nyx and Benny, we discovered that, because Johannes had made them hold his popcorn, they hadn't actually been able to go into the funhouse, and had instead wandered around aimlessly for the duration of our ride.

an aside: check out this link.

July 10, 2009

Italian Festival

Last night I went to the Italian Festival with (prepare for a slew of new nicknames) Nyx (who you know), Benny, Ryan, Johannes (like Gutenberg, who invented the printing press to make books *hint hint*), Cormac (you know that's what they should have called the other brother), Lysander, and Nick. We saw Cormac's brother, Cameron, as well. Anyways, I have a whole bunch of stories to share, so I will spread them over the coming days, just like I did with the SHP.

We spent a lot of time just standing around. The laws of inertia and magnetism appear to apply very strongly to them. The will remain at rest unless an outside force makes them move, and they have a mild magnetic attraction to Nyx, since she is the only person capable of making them move. They also had a tendency to split off into groups, with Lysander and Benny vanishing temporarily, which bugged Nyx to no end. And spending any protracted amount of time with Lysander really introduces me to the concept of wing-woman. But he's really not that bad, so I suppose I'll manage.

At one point last night, I was standing with Nyx and Cormac when I saw a familiar face approaching. I tried to remember who it was. A gym teacher, maybe? No, then Nyx would recognize him. As soon as Cormac gave a very friendly hello!, I realized it was our youth group advisor from last year.

"It took me like ten seconds to recognize you," I said.
"Really?" He started counting on his fingers.
Then, Cameron popped up behind him. "Hi!"
"Hey! How you been?" said the youth group advisor.
"Pretty good."
Nyx, who had wandered away, then came back with Benny.
"This is Benny," said Cormac.
"Hi," said Benny. "I want to call you Mark, for some reason."
"I like Mark. Mark works."
"Okay, then. Hi, Mark."
Cameron laughed. "His name is Chad."
I laughed too, since his name isn't actually Chad.
"Should I call you Chad?" said Benny.
"Chad's fine too. It's all good."
"Hmm. How about Chad Mark?"
"Now that is a great name."

July 9, 2009


My first though is that there is some sort of competition going on (hence the boats from sailing team) and it is very dangerous, but you haven't yet acknowledged that danger (like Harry Potter in book 4). Also, you see that there are problems (like dead bodies under boats), but rather than doing something to fix them, you let others do stuff, while you just do what you're used to. I don't know who Henry is, so I can't help you there. Also, these are 'darker' thoughts, so it's nightime.
Then we have your sister. You love your sister, and are around her a lot, so of course she'll show up in your dreams. That you our flying up high in the glider signifies how happy you are when she is around. The lines signify something (or someone) that is holding you back mentally. It may be your parents, since it's at home. Or, it could be your worried that that house sitting lady will keep you from doing something, or it could be your dog (hence the leashes). Also, the bizarre exercise machine part reminds me of those unelectric treadmills in China.
Actually, I just realized that by glider, you may mean bench or something, because your families speech patterns are different than mine. The jewelry is meant to signify romantic interest, and you aren't sure why or if you have is, and, regardless, you want to get rid of it. The tackle-box shows that the jewelry came with friendship (fishing is outdoorsie, and you associate friendship with that sort of thing), and because you were able to give the jewelry back and keep the tackle-box, you have been able to maintain your friendship despite some initial awkwardness. However, it hasn't totally left your mind, hence the valentines. I'm a stand-in for you, here, where you think that any romantic intentions are a sign of desperation. Also, because Lysander is (ahem) unexperienced, his valentine is like that of a child. However, it's still interesting and unique (every page is different)
Us gossiping about guys is because that is what we do. We did it last week, and I'm sure it'll happen again. Guys are just so interesting to talk about. Did dream me have any good gossip?
I'd already told you about having first day of school dreams, and you probably do think about the first day of school a little bit (at least subconsciously). The not knowing which room appears to be a common theme, since I've had that too. And THAT'S MY PHYSICS CLASS. WHY DID YOUR DREAM SELF NOT JUST GO TO CLASS WITH ME???? You worried that your desire to be prompt and do well in school will interfere with your ability to be a good person. You also think you might miss a chance to help if you don't think it all the way through. I associate trains with the school year, but I don't know if you do. This also sounds a lot like the train in the third Harry Potter video game. You're jealous of Tawny and Benny, but in the end, you know Tawny, and you know it won't be problem.

love, tea

July 8, 2009

Nyx Had A Dream

It went as follows:
First, i was sailing, with a bunch of people. we were in Hunter 420s, which is what we use on sailing team, but it wasn't the sailing team people. It was starting to get dark and a boat capsized, and when they righted themselves one of the crew members was missing. We spent a lot of time looking around for him but couldn't find him. (At this point I was in a motorboat with someone but I'm not sure who it was. Definitely male though.) Then the girl who had been sailing with him began to sail back to the dock, and when she started moving I saw an arm underneath her boat, which turned out to be attached to the missing guy. Still not sure who he was, mighta been Henry. The guy I was with on the motorboat jumped in and got the body and carried it back onto the boat. Then we went back to the dock (not one I was familiar with) and derigged all the boats. I don't know what happened to the body. Nobody was really sad though, we were all just kind of not really sure what happened. I don't think the concept of the situation had hit us yet.
Next, I was sitting outside my house on the glider with Kiwi. It was day time again. A loop of line, which i think was a really long dog leash, was staked into the ground near the oak tree in the front yard. There were more lines attached to it, and the other ends of these lines were attached to my bike helmet. For some reason I felt it necessary to put on the helmet and try to walk, but of course I couldn't because the lines were taut when I stood up. I kept straining at the ropes, and it was like some bizarre exercise machine.
Then I heard someone say, "And this is Nyx, strapped into her own yard!" I turned and saw that it was Lysander, talking to to older men on the sidewalk across the street. I unstrapped myself and went back to sitting on the glider, and as I did so he walked over and came into the yard. I asked him if he wanted his jewelry (i think it was heirloom or something) back, though I'm not sure why I had it. He had given it to me in a tacklebox which was also on the glider, but it was all mixed in with my beads and jewelry making supplies. Kiwi and I helped me dig through it looking for the jewelry, but Lysander didn't seem to mind the wait. When we finally gave it to him he left and went back across the street, where a black convertible was waiting for him with someone (maybe his dad?) in the passenger seat.
Then I went to your house, and you had just received a valentine from Lysander, even though we knew Valentine's day was still a few days away. It was a booklet made of unevenly-stapled red and pink construction paper, written and drawn on with crayons like a kid would do. Each page had something different on it. One page said Love.
Wondering if Lysander actually liked you or if he was just desperate for a girlfriend, I wanted to go check my mailbox to see if he had slipped one in there when I wasn't looking. (This is very reminiscent of me wanting to check my cell phone.) But I decided that it would be better to wait until the morning. Then I slept over at your house with a bunch of other girls and we gossiped about guys all night.
The next day was the first day of school, and of course I had already gotten to school and it was already 7:25 by the time I figured that out. I had not checked my mailbox. I also did not know what rooms my classes were in, but I knew that I had physics period 1. (There was also a while that we spent in the library and something happened but I forget what it was. Then I lost track of you and realized I had to get to class). I raced to the elevator to take it to the third floor, because I was riding on a library cart. The doors shut and opened again and an old lady in a wheelchair tried to come in but couldn't fit because of my cart. As the elevator went up I had the fleeting realization that if I had moved the cart over there would have been room for her, but I was in too much of a hurry to care.
On the third floor, all of the walls were black. Actually, the third floor was more like a train, which happened to be moving. Each car held one or two classrooms, and I passed from car to car (through the annoying between-car spaces) trying to find someone in my class - I think it was you. Finally I found a class and asked Vicuna if it was physics honors, and he said yes so I went to find a seat. The lab tables and benches were arranged on each side of the train car and looked like diner booths. I couldn't find any cute guys to sit with, but finally I sat down with Anita and a blond girl whose face I recognized but whose name I don't know. Meanwhile, the windowless train was still trundling along - quite loudly, I might add.
I looked around to see if I knew anyone else, and saw Tawny in a booth diagonal from mine. She appeared to be sitting on Benny's lap. But then suddenly they were sitting next to each other instead and he morphed into a girl so that was okay. Then I woke up.

it was only after the dream was over that I realized that a certain spare-brainless lab partner was not in my class. neither was Richard.

please interpret?!

My interpretation will follow tomorrow.

July 7, 2009


Today, I went to our high school and painted sets for Grease. We were painting in the blackbox, right near the rehearsal space, and, right behind me, Danny and Sandy (played by emily) were rehearsing the scene in the drive-in. This scene basically consists of Danny trying to get into Sandy's pants.
First there were kissing noises, which made me chuckle a bit, then the director started telling them to do things (wait a minute for the hand. Good. Okay, Emily, keep doing what you're doing, Danny, you want it more. Show a little more passion.) Then, they eventually started talking. (just because you gave me your ring doesn't mean we're going to go all the way!) and making random exclamations of pain (Danny, you're hurting me! was said with absolutely no provocation. The director immediately decided to cut it. Danny's response was 'at least it'll be a bit less rape-y)
This was after yesterday, when their dance included "crawling with pelvic thrusting" and some faintly disturbing shimmying from Danny on "it's electrifying!"
Also faintly disturbing is the hamburger man, who we've been painting for the past two days, that will descend from the sky for the diner scenes. He definitely isn't mentally stable.

July 6, 2009

More Books (and a little embarrassment)

I think that embarrassment should be spelled embareassment, because having a bare ass would be embarrassing.
This morning, Mom had Kerry and his landscaping buddy over. I talked to Kerry for a couple of minutes, but there were these little gnats flying at my face, and I started panicking about being afraid of bugs and pretty much ran away. It was awful.
On the upside, I did manage to finish two books today. First, I wrapped up Ender in Exile, by Orson Scott Card. It was just as fun and exciting as everything else Card has written, so no surprises there. Then, this afternoon, I read To Catch a Duke, by Eloisa James, and it was every bit as enjoyably awful as it sounds. I have a large portion of my heart that will be forever devoted to godawful regency romances. This one was as wonderful as always, with lots of romantic confusion, horribly exciting arguments, witty dialogue, and gratuitous sex (there's a reason I used to have to sneak them past my mother).
Anyways, all in all, it was a good day.

July 5, 2009

García's Heart

I just finished a book, and, remarkably, it's only the third one I've read this summer. I feel like such an underachiever. Then again, it's more reading than most high schoolers have probably done in the last two weeks, so I suppose that I'm semioverachieving again.
García's Heart, by Liam Durcan, was pretty good. It was absorbing, and the voice, which walked the line between pretentious and entertaining, leant more towards entertaining. Since the last book I read (The Dark is Rising, by Susan Cooper) was a children's book (albeit an enjoyable one), it was refreshing to see a sentence like "[s]tanding among a group of businessmen in the lobby of the Hotel Metropole and watching them disperse into the Den Haag drizzle, he had already begun to feel conspicuous, almost wishing he could pick up a briefcase and join their ranks for a day of bloodless regulatory triumph" on the first page. However the ending was unsatisfying to an great enough extent that I almost didn't read the last chapter, and when the novel abruptly shifted from dwelling in the past to actual events in the present, the protagonist's realizations felt forced. However, the book did, overall, provide an interesting view into morality and history.