My trip to DC was really wonderful. It's been one of my favorite cities for awhile, I love the architecture and looking at all the suits speedwalking between congress and senate buildings.

I have apparently overcome my fear of flying, which is nice. I'd like to brag about how I looked the plane in the eyes and had an epiphany about how it could not hurt me any more and then everything was clear and the plane surrendered to my determination, but of course that only happens in very strange novels. Nah, I just didn't get the flutteries.

I've found myself intrested in boys far too much for my liking recently. I seem to have gotten over my hatred of them enough to enjoy their arm muscles and bone structure.

That's not to say I'm straight. I still follow women with my eyes far more than men, and Jonette continues to captivate me. But lately a few boys from my past have moved back onto my radar, whose names shall remain secret, of course.

LAst week before my trip I spent about three hours with Sonja, my friend who owns the dress store downstairs. She's my parents age and sometimes I work for her, but mostly I gossip and read her cards.

Anyways, she confessed that she made out with my dad.

I know, right? Ew.

So, of course I have another secret that I would be too uncomfortable to tell anyone. (My list being: Mom's miscarriage when I was ten, My feelings in general, and Dad not paying my therapy bill.)

So, back to my trip.

The first night mom came home drunk, she'd been kidnapped by the girls on counsel (She works for a tribe) and they had coerced her into going to some bars downtown. I waited up for her like I usually do (since I don't sleep at night) and she passed out in her clothes on tope of the bed.

I was so scared, but don't tell anyone. It'd ruin my reputation.

The second day I skipped and slept at home. Mike (our lobbyist) bought me earrings. I watched so much SVU I dreamed about rape.

The third day is too detailed for me to explain right now, let's just say I have blisters and had to wear trousers.

Journals have become exhausting for me, as of late.

So farewell for now.

<3

My head's all stuffy again.
I can't seem to collect any thoughts

Ellie says it's just the ADD, but I haven't been writing much lately, and anything I do is jotted down on napkins or hotel pads. I'll post some of it soon, next time I'm at my mom's house. She has a scanner, I'll post some photos too. :3

Thanks for reading. Hope to be better soon.

I can't take this depression much longer.

Showering feels so difficult now, and my folks seem distant. Zo is my rock, as usual. We joke, I can't kill myself til I write my memoirs, finish His Dark Materials and watch all of Buffy. So, we've got awhile to go.

I'm going to go read until I'm itchy.

I got a new bed. It's pretty. I'll take a picture.

I went to Suquamish for the week before my birthday, Ellie went to Bostin with her daughter for two weeks, so I spent a lot of time with my mother. I went home for my birthday, dad got me a camera. We spent the day in Seattle.

Nikkormat FTn, 50MM 1.4

I went back to Forks and then off to Ocean Shores for four days. On Saturday Zo drove me down to Suquamish and we went and watched the dancers at Chief Seattle Days. I took three rolls of film. I hope some shots turn out good.

I'm home now, and very lonely. Zo's been by my side for virtually two weeks. I miss the hotel rooms. Their cable and their largish curtains.

My thoughts have moved to moving out again. Mom says she wants to buy a shack in Ocean Shores and that she'll rent it to me next year. I can't wait to be alone with myself.

I can't wait to be allowed to be moody, distacted and anxious.

No more people to act for, no more facades. No more 'I'm fine's.

What more can a girl ask for.

We were supposed to go camping today, and well, we didn't. I stayed up late last night watching comical, sexy flicks and staring out the window. I begun a novel about Nell Gwynn, mistress of Charles II, whom I am now fascinated with. I saved the last chapter and read it after I woke in my cozy bed.

My cat is still pissing everywhere, so another task I had last night (Along with Dishes and putting clothes in drawers) was remaking her litter box and introducing her to it. I washed my hands after, twice.

When I woke today around one-ish Dad was gone. He'd told me to leave a note saying what the time was when I passed out and that he planned on taking a (motor)bike ride.

He came home after three, thinking I'd still be in bed.

We loitered about, reading and me trying to regain full control of my limbs which last night ceased to listen completely to my commands, after the manic fit I had at the bridge. I didn't tell Dad about it though, it's hard to make people understand that mental illness makes many things difficult, not just temper or lonelyness.

I walked down to the corner store buying my third jug of chocolate milk in three days and my 8th jug of milk period since the start of the month. I mention this in such detail because it is abnormal behavior.

You see, I don't usually like milk much.

We left on our bikes to go downtown to the Grand, the funky independant theater which only shows four movies at once.

We saw Shark vs. Eagle. At least, I think that was the title.

I'm still unsure why I liked it.

My limbs were still heavy and I kept bumping into things and was oblivious as to the heat until we got to the theater and I had sweat on my neck and face. I went and washed my hands, twice, again.

My control over my senses is deteriorating. Though my nose seems to work to well. I smell many things.

Maybe I'm observant, maybe I'm delusional.

The only other thing of extreme importance, that I wish to share with thee... is thus... >>

I saw the coolest leg hair EVER!

This man, one half of a couple. A twittering twenty-something let's-talk-about-things-we-don't-understand-in-a-high-and-mighty-way couple. He was in the line for the theater AHEAD of us, not sure what he saw. And then afterwards we went to Thriftway to get bagels and POG juice, and they were BEHIND us in line.

(Not sure why I emphasised those words with capitalization. They seemed of great importance at the time. >> )

And that was when I looked down.. At his legs.

He was blonde, in that Malfoy RichPeople-not-PeasantStock way. You know, like a whitish blonde. And so was his leg hair. It was the daintiest I've seen all day.

Think they dye leg hair?

He looked like his ancestor laid with an Elf. Or perhaps he was of the wee folk, here to ferry that girl over to fairy.

Heh, ferry to fairy. *snort*

Either way, he was lovely.

If only he'd kept his mouth shut.



Warmly,

Your Logan.

We were supposed to go camping today, and well, we didn't. I stayed up late last night watching comical, sexy flicks and staring out the window. I begun a novel about Nell Gwynn, mistress of Charles II, whom I am now fascinated with. I saved the last chapter and read it after I woke in my cozy bed.

My cat is still pissing everywhere, so another task I had last night (Along with Dishes and putting clothes in drawers) was remaking her litter box and introducing her to it. I washed my hands after, twice.

When I woke today around one-ish Dad was gone. He'd told me to leave a note saying what the time was when I passed out and that he planned on taking a (motor)bike ride.

He came home after three, thinking I'd still be in bed.

We loitered about, reading and me trying to regain full control of my limbs which last night ceased to listen completely to my commands, after the manic fit I had at the bridge. I didn't tell Dad about it though, it's hard to make people understand that mental illness makes many things difficult, not just temper or lonelyness.

I walked down to the corner store buying my third jug of chocolate milk in three days and my 8th jug of milk period since the start of the month. I mention this in such detail because it is abnormal behavior.

You see, I don't usually like milk much.

We left on our bikes to go downtown to the Grand, the funky independant theater which only shows four movies at once.

We saw Shark vs. Eagle. At least, I think that was the title.

I'm still unsure why I liked it.

My limbs were still heavy and I kept bumping into things and was oblivious as to the heat until we got to the theater and I had sweat on my neck and face. I went and washed my hands, twice, again.

I haven't written in this is awhile. I fell into a depression, spent too much time at Mother's house, which triggered said lathargy. I'm heavy with the anticipation of the eventual mood swing, which is gradually coming. I can feel my symptoms evaporating, my burdens lightening and my mood elevating over all.

By the time I woke today the sun was already high in th sky and the heat was climbing up, slowly reaching the level of vegetation and lazy nothingness which inhabits our dehydrated minds. All I could do for awhile was lay on the couch, my back sticky with sweat, unshowered and watch Judge Mathis.

After a bit I managaed to bully myself enough to get off the sofa and do some much needed, highly necessary laundry. I rewarded myself with a mini-marathon of Mork and Mindy. Nanu nanu!

Daydreaming of my future husband (Robin Williams) and our one-day fat bipolar babies caused a chain reaction of jumping up to talk to (my beloved) Kremmy. We had a lengthy conversation about coming out and the confusion called gender.

When dad came home we went out to the library, where I danced mentally at the pleasently warm greeting from the librarians, who all remind me of hens - in the BEST way possible.

We took off from there at closing time, in hopes of finding another place with AC and were lucky enough to stumble intot the Mandolin, our favorite cafe, before dying of heatstroke.

The waitress drizzled caramel on my cheesecake, which made me feel loved, but was not ideal on such a day.

Next to us a pair of college students sat, discussing something in such low volume that I could not hear, despite being so close and er, trying rather hard to catch any bits of their discussion. I can be quite nosy, if I try. The girl was cute, with a frail frame, a round face and a square haircut. Her companion seemed gangly, though he was not. In fact he was rather stocky, but awkwardness radiated off of him in such a way that made you blame something about his frame. Perhaps he was simply not gangly enough? I don't know. He lurked behind his oversized glasses, fidgeting unnecessarily.

Across from me, in my direct line of sight, was a table of twenty-somethings all cooing at a newborn baby - a boy, I think, if his blue onesie is any sign. None of them held him right. The women were stiff and overly loud, superficial. The men all had big dopey smiles, looking like they had a wee bit too much morphine.

I despise people who only pay attention to children because they hope everyone mistakes it for theirs.

We got in the boxy old volvo and zoomed off to the grocery store, I need milk.

I like milk lately.

Stops my kidneys from hurting when I don't sleep.

Dad left his bag at the cafe and had to go back for it, so I shopped alone. Which made me edgy enough. I exited through the tempermental sliding door and sat down outside waiting for him.

A group of cute boys in tight pants skateboarded past me and sat down about 10 ft. away from me, proceeding to have idiotic conversations about sex and parents and such. Mindless drones, nothing going on up top. I felt like my skin was crawling, anxiety was not a syndrome it was a virus!

After what seemed like years, dad pulled up in my suddenly wonderful volvo and I greeted it like an old friend, sliding in and grinning, turning up my music and showing those jackasses that other people have interesting, funky lifestyles. Not everyone feels the need to wear matching clothes and slow voices.

And now I'm here, sitting at my computer. I just threw up and I can feel the bile on my tongue in the back. And I wonder if anyone else ever feels this complete frustration with people and life and love and everything in general, yet still adore every moment of it.

But I know my answer.

Yes, I bet you do.