A Curious Girl: Lazy days

I'm writing this entry in the same room as Stephen, so I'll try to be quick.

Yesterday I went to 'The Copperfield' for lunch with Mum and Grandma, for no particular reason. It was quite good except they kept going on about weight etc.

Today I went to Central Theatre to see Stuart Little with Sally and her mum; that film is excellent!

Yawn.

I'm seriously tired.

And I still haven't done any work.

I drew a picture of a girl with wings and a sword and shield today. It's a followup to my other one, where the girl is carrying a woven bag with a snake in on her shield arm. I think I prefer that one - the one I did today is boring.

I go to the orthodontists tomorrow - lucky moi! Grandma said I should ask them to wire me up again so I lose weight. She drives me mad! Why can't she just mind her own business? I have to agree with Ros Asquith; we've been bullied about food since the day we were born, but we aren't any the better for it.

Clive and Mum moaned Stephen like hell to get off the computer, and he just sat there, dumb as a statue. He said he's had enough and he wants to move out but it's not just their fault: it's his as well.

I wish *I* could move out sometimes. Mum and Clive are now out at dinner *again*.

But let's forget about that: it's boring and depressing. I changed my diary because I can't find Nickie's diary, and I suppose I was just being spiteful, but I like this site better anyway.

I spent ages searching for that flipping diary. Obsessive huh? It's like trying to find someone that you met in a city again, even if they don't move out. The chances are next to nothing.

I bought a comic thing from this bloke today. I thought it was meant to be a 'big issue' type thing for homeless people, but instead it was a comic version of Luke's gospel.

I quite liked it actually, even though they were practically shoving them in people's faces. It was pretty sensible. Right at the end it said, 'No matter what religion you are you can follow Jesus' and 'A good Hindu is closer to God than a self-righteous Christian'.

I quite liked that actually.

The main theme was that you could give up everything for God and he would look after you. However it didn't really say much about Jesus's death, about how we're set free from evil and so on, so it seemed more like a 'work your way to Heaven' type book.

Oh well. I discovered yesterday that I'm a bitch. There was this thing on the news about a girl suffering from CJD, and her Mum was talking about her. Funny - everything I either despise or envy in a person was in that girl. She was popular, sporty, obsessed with Leo Dicaprio. Jeez! Bitterness was just overflowing. Whatever happened to love?

I hate myself sometimes.

Popular people: what can I do? I have lots of friends, but that's not the same as being popular. Popular people have admirers. They can make friends with anyone, they can fit in anywhere, and I'm just a misfit.

(Stephen has just left)

I shouldn't say that, really, because I know other things - all the 'popular' people I've known have been really insecure. I remember Christina telling me about Charlie crying her eyes out in desperation and envy - of whom? Why me, of course. Apparently my life is sorted out.

I suppose it is to some extent, but I'm just so lazy and so shy, I never get anything said or done. I hate being so loud - everyone equates loudness with confidence, but really it's a mask to hide my real feelings.

It's a mask I wear around David a lot. I remember him telling me he was just happy to have a joke in the Christian Union, and I just stood there, devoid of any mask, lost for words. Then on the next CU, although I was feeling better, I still couldn't say anything: but I talked all the while.

David. That word means more to me than just a name, now, it has feelings attached to it, and just the word says an entire essay of thoughts, hopes and dreams.

On a more cheerful note (echoing Wendy Phillips, the head of the PTFA of my old school) I was pondering on how healing was nothing like I thought it would be, but better. At Church, after that fateful day with David, John came up and said, among other things, "I feel there is someone here who is feeling rejected." I discovered that I don't just cry when I've got PMT, as I was on my period at the time, and the tears were at last streaming down my face. I went up for prayer. At first I felt nothing - like I'd taken pain-killers. Then I started feeling much more certain, in fact I realised how much my friends care about me, so even if the main joy of my existence (after Jesus) doesn't really care about me, I've got about ten people who do, at least.

I love my friends. I so wish I could heal the pains in their lives - Sara with her once a week binge, Abi with her razors, Chris with her love troubles, and so on... But what can I do? At the moment, only pray.

I'm trying to be completely honest with this diary, so I'll tell youn about this afternoon - this bloke stopped me in Rochester and asked what bust I was.

Usually I would have gone on, but I'd seen him before, on that day that Saz, Chelle, Abi, Cat, and Charlotte and I decided to get drunk in Rochester. Is this hypocritical? I hate the idea of getting drunk normally, but I was with friends and it seemed like fun, and it was fun, only sinister, because Sara said things she doesn't normally say when sober, and unfortunately I still remember them.

The man didn't recognise me, but I recognised his multiple earrings. He asked where I was going, so I told him, and eventually I made my excuses and left... but I did tell him my bust size.

The sad thing is, I'm proud of it.

I'm such a contradiction.

I wish I was perfect. But I can't wait until then; it'll take forever: I think I'll spend half an hour on homework now.

Helen.

PS. Jesus turned water into wine, so I guess he didn't mind getting drunk very much. Maybe I shouldn't worry. It's not like I did stuff under the influence. In fact, I got a drink for Saz when she puked, and I shared Pringles around.

I think I ought to forget about rules and think solely of love: after all, you don't hurt those you love.

Random word for today:

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