i've been running on dreams so long i never knew that i was running on nothing but fumes
this road been long and bumpy and its a long way to go to carry this body in the trunk
you never liked sitting there and i never knew how to drive
but we faked it just the same you and i
yeah we faked it just the same you and i
both so broke down inside heading down a freeway
built on nothing but hopes and wishes
washed out by all this fucking reality
of broken promises and fake kisses
lost in the desert air screaming by

I have survived the invasion of the family on my sanctuary. My mom changed the poem on my computer--a self portrait julia is an artist who cannot find the strength to put on pants--to julia is an artist who WILL find the strength to put on pants. Like she's trying to be all inspirational and shit like, "C'mon, Julia, I BELIEVE in you. You can put those pants on! One leg at a time!" It's kind of sweet but don't mess with my poetry!

I think I'm developing Tourette's. I almost blurted out, "MOTHAFUCKER!" while in a meeting with my boss (the girl with the supposed hairy ass) while she briefed me on a procedure. That would have been a very embarrassing situation. I don't think a cover of, "I'm sorry. I SWORE I saw a typo on page 5 but I was wrong" would have prevented my prompt firing.

Today's mood: Tentatively cheerful

I've been reading all these Psychology books and this one thing called the Approach-Avoidance Conflict really interested me. Pretty much, it happens when a person feels that a certain goal has both pros and cons. So the further one is from the goal, the more one focuses on the pros or the reasons to approach the goal. But the closer one is to the goal, the more one focuses on the cons or the reasons to avoid the goal.

Now doesn't that sound a lot like the way we deal with dating? We chase because we want we want WE WANT, and then when we almost have it, we're like RUN AWAY!! It'll never work! I TOLD YOU THAT BITCH WAS CRAZY!

Yeah. Lovely.

Roxie put it best when she said that a break up feels like dying. It's like your heart is suddenly filled with poison, and you can feel it spreading out through your chest, contaminating the rest of your body. Why we all search for love, I have no idea. It's all bullshit.

Okay, I'm seriously thinking about going to school for clinical psychology. It's been something I've wanted to do for a long time, but have been afraid to really talk about because I'm so scared people will say, "Julia, you're fucking crazy. What the hell do you think you're doing, leading the other nuts?" So all those who think I would be good at it, leave me some encouragement.

ssssssssss....oh god, here it comes.........ssssssssssssssss....i can't stop it...................sssssssssssss.....can't.....hold........back..............SIMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAA DOOOOOOOOOOOOOWN NAAAAAAAAH! THAT'S RIGHT! SIMMA. DOWN. NA! (over and out)

Honey now if I'm honest
I still don't know what love is
Another mirage folds into the haze of time recalled
And now the foodgates cannot hold
All my sorrow all my rage
A tear that falls on every page

Maybe I oughtta mention
Was never my intention
To harm you or your kin
Are you so scared to look within
The ghosts are crawling on our skin
We may race and we may run
We'll not undo what has been done
Or change the moment when it's gone

Meet me on the other side...

(David Gray)

:(

You guys want to know a really funny activity that I've been doing that's a little bit messed up, but I can't stop?

I love going to match.com when I'm bored, typing in my hometown's zip code and the age range of my peer group and trying to see if I find anyone I know. Inevitably, I do and I gleefully revel in the fact that they're posting personal ads. Then I point and laugh at their grammatical errors. Then I cry for hours, curled up in a fetal position at the bottom of my shower because I live a sad, sad life.

FEARFUL THOUGHT OF THE MORNING: IS LOVE A FARCE?

I went to the chiropractor once and he explained to me the phenomenon of tickling. Being tickled is actually an extremely uncomfortable experience that raises anxiety in a human being, but the brain doesn't quite know how to classify the signals it creates. It recognizes that the signals it receives don't exactly fit into the "pain," category so it assigns a very ambivalent "pleasure" even though instinctually, when a person is tickled, her instinctual body responses are to get away from the stimuli.

I wonder if being in love is a similar phenomenon. Because, as I've realized, to truly love is to be selfless. You have no control when you're in love. You're just completely open and you'll give the other person anything. But is anyone really happy that way? Because that's what love is, and if you truly know what it means to love, then you will know what it means to give without necessarily receiving back. I think the people who are actually happy are those who love half-assed. They think they love, but really, they maintain some control and are monitoring what they receive back. They don't completely give of themselves, and therefore, they have everything to gain and not much to lose. I think we've all been led to believe that love is bliss, but love is actually somewhat uncomfortable. But we strive for it, and want it so badly when in truth, I don't think anyone who gives 100% is truly happy. They're just saints.

So in truth, maybe love is like being tickled. We attach it to feelings of joy when in fact, it doesn't exactly make us very comfortable or happy. Maybe we should all stick with infatuation and pretend love. It's a lot safer and a happier experience.

Love is weird. Do we truly love anything or anyone? What is the difference between infatuation and love? Love is selfless. Infatuation is selfish. That's a great definition. But it's all relative to how we each define it. How much you love and how you show it is a sign of your individuality. No one else will ever be the same. And if you expect the same form and level of expression, you're a narcissist and will never be happy with another human being.

Dating a narcissist is the most unfulfilling experience you can have. Because they don't have room in their hearts for anyone but themselves. And what they give you, is actually more about the fact that THEY are giving it to you, than an actual act of kindness, giving and selflessness (sacrifice). Someone once described the Narcissist's Dance to me. First they put you on a pedestal and worship you. And then when they find out that you don't fit their EXACT idea of PERFECTION, they knock you down, shatter you, and do an angry tantrum dance as they smash all your broken pieces. This describes what a narcissist once did to me. And I will hate him forever.

My advice for anyone I love would be: never be with someone who gives less than what you give. Because I will guarantee that you will never be happy.

I think good people who truly know what love means are always going to be unhappy because there just aren't enough people who understand what love truly means.

Words look funny if you look at them long enough. So do people. Have you ever stared into someone else's eyes for a really long time? It's interesting. I find that I'm always looking into people's eyes when I talk to them. And afterwards, I sometimes forget what they look like, or can't conjure up their entire face in my mind. It's more prevalent the closer I am to the person. Like I can never remember what the person that I like or am dating looks like. But I know what's in their eyes and behind them. It's a little bit disturbing. I should start taking drugs so I at least have an excuse for my weirdness.

Well, first I would say "come again." But then I would laugh because I said, "come."

(Peter, Family Guy)

Your Honor:

so i was sitting in a pink ford focus on the way to the happiest little gay bar in town with my peppy blonde ex-cheerleader not-really friend, kerri at the wheel. the speakers throbbed sugar ray track three on repeat as her mouth went on and on about how: everywhere she goes, hotties (aka "hot men") are always giving her the look (hungry) and asking her out and she just doesn't know what to do about it since *sigh* she's been dating nonstop since, like, forever and she just feels like she wants to take some time off and, you know, find herself. being that i'm going through a six-month (plus or minus two years) dry spell with the last recorded stir of sexual subactivity ending in the theft of my three favorite pairs of black nylons and a polite twelve-page letter detailing my physical flaws, i did what (at the time) the situation naturally seemed to call for.

i backhanded her.

What is it about being with you that makes me feel like I'm collapsing from the inside out?

How is it that I can feel lonelier when I'm around people, to the point that the only way that I can feel better is to go off and be alone?

I was in such a funk today. I woke up and felt so lonely. The world suddenly felt so big, and somehow, made me feel hollow and empty. Like I was raining on the inside. I'm wondering if I expect too much from the world and that no matter what, my existence will always involve disappointment. In a way, I feel like I'm emotionally high-maintenance but I don't know if there are people out there in the world who can give me all the affection and care that I need. I'm such a disgusting puppy. Sometimes I wonder if everyone feels this way but just doesn't admit it. Yes, I have cried myself to sleep in the past. There. I admitted it.

I sent out an email to Maryland Brian, the guy I was in love with in college but could not get it together for. A part of me has never let him go because he's such a good guy. He's married now. But I think I still hang on to it because I cared about him then completely went out of my way to destroy it. It doesn't matter whether there was anything there, if it would have worked, etc. I don't want anything romantic with him; I just have good associations with him because he's such an upstanding guy. The biggest thing is that I think I still feel horrified about what I will do to keep something from working. Something that might feel good to me. For someone who understands people so well objectively, I have some serious issues about relating to people.

I've realized that I can't deal with disappointment. I HATE it when people say they'll do something or go somewhere with me, and then I get my hopes up, but then they cancel for no good reason (ie they didn't feel like going anymore). I get so hurt and angry because it was stupid of me to get my hopes up and I feel like people really don't care about me. You have to realize that I don't talk about these things to anyone so most people probably don't realize what a big baby I am. But it hurts and I never tell people because I'm embarrassed about it and I think it's disgusting and needy. And then I don't want them to realize that these things can hurt me, or that I care. Then I decide that I don't want to be around people anymore because it only leads to disappointment. And I go about withdrawing like crazy. What the fuck is wrong with me.

I think I need to be alone for a little while. I know this is part of my reject-others-so-they'll-reject-you-and-you'll-never-get-hurt-again thing, but right now, I just need to be alone.

There are no words to describe how angry I am right now. None whatsoever.

I just got back from my cousin Albert's wedding. It was great...the whole thing was beautiful (and expensive!) but everyone had a blast. It was kind of scary though, since Al is only about 6 months older than me and now he's like, an adult and everything. I think I just like to pretend that I'm mature without any intention of actually ever becoming a "grown-up." "Grown-up" is synonymous to "Grown-old" for me. But for all my talk about being afraid of commitment and never wanting to get married, maybe it's all a smokescreen. L-Dogg once said that it's the people who speak the loudest about never wanting to get married who are the ones who want to get married the most. My dad, in a drunken state, declared to everyone that I'm next. I think he's trying to not so subtly kick me out of the nest.

Lauren is the funniest person I know. We were talking today about hypothetical ways that men can blunder their declarations of love.

Julia: What about, "I think I love you when I'm drunk?"

Lauren: Yeah, tell him to go ahead and write that in the vows.

So in tribute to spring love and the fact that both Lauren and I will be attending weddings tomorrow, here are my hypothetical wedding vows, if I were to marry a hypothetical man named...let's say, Toto.

Toto...since I met you, I've seen more colors in the universe than I previously thought existed. And I'm not just talking about the crazy colors in my morning phlegm, which as Dr. Grendal told me are just leftovers of the pixie sticks I used to snort in high school. And neither am I talking about the variety of pigments in my urine. Who knew the clap could be so tenacious? No, Toto, I'm talking about the the shades of sunset over the gentle ocean horizon, the oranges, golds and reds of leaves swirling in the fall, and the exploding stars before my eyes that time you slammed me in the head with our brand new fondue pot when I flipped your mother the bird for saying that my tube top made me look like a whore (good thing the pot was still in the Target bag...otherwise I suspect it might have left a nasty scar). Yes, that tube top did make me look like a whore, but your mother is honestly a fucking cunt (sorry, Mrs. G). Anyway, as I was saying, dearest Toto, I can not imagine my life without you, your sweet caresses and your tender declarations of "Get me my fuckin' Pabst Blue Ribbon outta the cooler bitch and don't let me catch you outta the fuckin' kitchen again. Don't make me use my belt!"

[Note to Self: Self, do a dramatic pause here, as you are bound to be overwhelmed by your love and too choked up to speak for up to three minutes].

After our first date, I knew that you were the kind of person that I wanted to be with forever. Maybe it was because you bought me dinner at the Sizzler before doing me in the back of your El Camino. Maybe it was because you slowed to a considerate 12 miles per hour when you nudged me out of your car in front of my house. Maybe it's because you always stand up for me in front of your friends. That day when you told Davey Boy after he caught us banging in the bathroom at the bowling alley, "Yeah, she's a ho, but she's my ho," I would have cried tears of joy if I hadn't just accidentally flushed my thong down the toilet.

Toto, you are my everything--my sun, my moon, and my retarded baby's daddy. I love you and hope you'll stick around even after the baby's born.

That Garbage song, "Queer" makes me feel soooo diiiiiiiiiiiiiiirty...

I've realized that I have a speech impediment. I don't seem to enunciate the tail end of my words very well sometimes. I normally don't care because, hey, my first language was broken English. But it's become a problem with the word, "Peanuts."

For example:

I was on a road trip with two friends. We were in a gas station convenience store and out of sheer boredom, I pointed to a bag of circus peanuts and say, "Hey! Circus peanuts!" They both turn around like, "WHAT???" Like I had just said, "Corey Feldman is my Lord and Savior. And by the way, I too, suck dick for crack." And I'm like, "circus peanuts." Apparently, they and every one else in the vicinity had thought I said circus penis. Given that statement, I wonder what the hell they thought I was pointing at (hey look! A circus penis! It's doing all kinds of jumps and tumbles in that guy's pants!)

A few nights ago, I was telling Muskrat about what it means to have an allergy to peanuts and she thought I said, allergy to penis. Of course, several softball/lesbian jokes emerged and wackiness ensued. But seriously. There's no way around that word because I can't say it right.

Today I talked to my friend Sarah (Muskrat) from back in the day. We go all the way back to junior high when we used to play softball together. She asked me, Remember when we used to put on short shorts and get all dirty? No Sarah, I don't. I have to go now. I think I hear people screaming, "Lesbo!" and throwing rocks at my window.

But seriously, I love Muskrat. I have always had a touch of Muskrat Love. But she moved all the way to Florida and she's still there. She's one of those people who always laughs at my jokes and I really appreciate that. And she calls me Shih Shih which means "pee pee" in Chinese and you can't beat that.