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Hurt Girl

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[14 Feb 2006|11:20am]
Goth Mama
You're a witchy woman! Chances are that you see

Morticia Addams as a role model, and your

wardrobe sports a fair amount of black. The

other mothers at school pick up may look

askance, but your kids already know that the

judgement of others isn't what counts.


What kind of a freaky mother are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
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stacey discovers retards. [02 Mar 2005|11:39am]
so, there we all were in the little trailer.

i turned four, and went to preschool. my mom traded in her mustang for a navy blue 1989 chevy blazer that had those gradiated, humongus 80s style pinstripes down the side, and navy blue vinyl interior. i still remember how that thing had no AC, and in the summer the dark seats would attract sunlight and burn your ass if you had shorts on.

preschool was okay for the most part. i had never been around kids my age, except for my two cousins, so it was a pretty big shock, but one that i liked. mostly, we made crafty little things like plastic forks stuck into plaster of paris, which the teacher called "recipe card holders," and bunny magnets out of wallpaper samples, with a cotton ball for a tail and a wiggly eye. i remember that they tested us a lot; our hearing, vision, motor skills, intelligence.

then, one day, the retarded kids came.

having been so sheltered, i had never been exposed to someone with a mental handicap. so now here are these kids, bumbling around our classroom. my biggest fear was that they would hurt themselves. but they only came once or twice a month, so it was not something i thought about a lot.

but then, kindergarten happened.
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".....the place where the wave finally broke and rolled back." [21 Feb 2005|11:00am]
[ mood | sad ]

goodbye, hunter.

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[29 Mar 2004|12:21am]
Gimpy McCripplefins....yabyabyab!
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[29 Dec 2003|08:34pm]
hurtgirls
12 comments|post comment

[10 Nov 2003|09:46am]
[ mood | scared ]

i have never been so scared in all my life of doing something. i'm about to go to counseling. i'm so scared. i wish there was someone to go with me. god, i can't believe i'm doing this.

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mom & dad [05 Nov 2003|02:29pm]
[ mood | depressed ]

okay, so i guess i should do the next part of this, which is about my mom and dad.

my mom is 43. her middle name is the same as mine, Lynn. she grew up in Elkins, WV in a little neighborhood with lots of other kids. all of her memories that she's told me about her childhood seem happy. i think she got to be a pretty normal kid. she was a lot like me in high school, not very popular. she had a powder blue mustang that she was proud as hell of. when she graduated, going to college wasn't an option for her. her dad told her that she could find a man to take care of her, because they couldn't afford to send her to college.

and she did find a man to take care of her. the whole reason that my mom met my dad was because he drove a limited edition Levi's jeep wrangler. apparently it was blue and the seats were made out of levi's denim. she found out that he worked at the same gas company as my grandpa, and she had him to set them up. they dated for a few years.

my dad is 53 now. he grew up in glenville in a house next to his grandma. they moved to the farm when he was still fairly young, and they started the dairy. i think the dairy made him the way he is today. it's hard work, and my grandpa was violent with him, i think. i also know that he always felt like he lived in the shadow of his younger brother, who my grandma tended to favor. he went to college at GSC and got a bachelor's in business. he was going to be a teacher but decided he didn't have the patience. he was in the army reserve for a few years, but i'm sure if that was before or after he went to college. he never talks about his past, and neither does my mom, so i don't know much else about him.

for reasons unknown to me, one night they decided to get married. my mom packed a suitcase and lied to her parents and said she was staying with her friend anita. they already had the marriage liscense, so they had the justice of the peace come to my dad's trailer on our farm to marry them. she called her parents and told them she wouldn't be home that night because she was married now. my grandpa said "if you're staying there tonight, you'd damn well better be married". the day was October 31st.

people, of course, thought that since they didn't have a formal wedding, my mom was pregnant. she wouldn't have me until two years later, though. she always laughs and says that she had the longest pregnancy in the history of glenville.

so my parents had me. which i've already written about. my mom really wanted to name me Anastasia, but my dad thought that name was "too prissy". if i would've been a boy, my name would be Joshaua Michael. i'm glad i wasn't a boy.

so we all lived like a happy family in my dad's trailer on the farm, where our house today stands. my dad worked at Columbia Gas making good money, my mom stayed at home with me. dad bought a truck to put his welder and toolboxes on, and did welding jobs on the side. mom still had her little blue mustang. things were good until i was about 4.

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birth [23 Oct 2003|02:11am]
[ mood | tired ]

i was born on march 5, 1984 in a place called weston, wv in a hospital named stonewall jackson memorial hospital. my mom's doctor's name was dr. lively. i was born early in the night, and from what my mom has said, it was a fairly easy delivery. i apparently have always been short....i was 18 inches long and weighed 8 pounds and some odd ounces. i believe that my family probably thought for quite some time that i was a dwarf. anyways...

apparently there was a fight right after i was born. it's never been clearly explained to me, only revealed to me by my mother during fits of anger where she just blurts things out. i guess my dad and his mother got in a fight with my mom and her mother. my dad apparently wanted to see me being born, but then decided not to and waited outside. later i guess he said he felt like he'd been pushed out by my mom's mother, who was the only other person present when i was born. for this reason, the two sides of my family have always had some hostilities towards each other.

the first house i went to after i was born was my great grandpa & grandma furr's. we called him pap, and he died when i was three. he and my dad were really close, and he always really liked me. he had a pair of wind-up chattery teeth that he used to always get out when i'd be there. and they'd always make me tang. lord, did they love their tang.

my room at home, i remember, was not really a typical baby's room. i've seen the photos, and they're almost eerie. it was the room in our trailer that my mom later used as a sewing room....it had a bassinette in it, with a few things on the wall, and a changing table. It had brown linolieum. it just didn't seem like much of a place for a baby. i think i spent most of my time at the foot of my parents' bed, though, in the cradel that my great uncle made for me. i'm not sure when i got my own room. i think it was around one. i actually got the room beside the bizarre one. i had my own bathroom right next to it. i guess there wasn't any reason why i shouldn't have been happy.

my mom always had music playing. 95.1 WXIL. i remember that at three, i could sing just about every song on the radio, or at least parts of it. we had a record player that i messed with a lot, and mom had a bunch of her old 8-tracks that were a huge mystery to me. mostly i liked to stack them up like blocks. my dad was away at work every day, and my mom and i just tinkered around the house. every afternoon she'd give me my lunch in my high chair in the living room, and she'd eat with me. i remember watching a lot of golden girls and night court. (it seems like such bullshit that i can even remember it. but i do.)

i drew my first picture at 2. my mom has it in our safe at home. it's a picture of my dad. around 3 and early in 4, i remember i got a magna-doodle. i spent quite a bit of time with it. i think it was around that time that i really became concious of my mom and dad fighting. i used to draw pictures of us on the magna-doodle. sometimes it was us being happy, and sometimes it was my dad in the kitchen yelling at my mom. i guess that was how i tried to make sense of it. and if one of them stormed back to my room, i could erase it quickly, so they wouldn't know that i'd heard them. in my mind, letting them catch me with the knowledge that they were fighting was the biggest sin i could commit. i guess it still kind of is.

age 3 was also about the time that i started being afraid of the dark. i was afraid of a lot of things, but mostly the giant toy soldier that stood beside my door. no, he was not real. at least, not PHYSICALLY real. in my mind he was though, and he was always there when they tuned off the lights. it got so bad that they bought this little contraption to put over the lightswitch, that had little cords to pull so i could turn the light on by myself. i guess it was getting old, me running to their room every night. i remember having bad dreams a lot. those probably continued up until i was about six. at least, that was when i stopped running to my parents room to wake my mom up for some sort of comfort, and decided i should deal with it on my own.

i guess that's really all i can remember of importance, up until i went to preschool, which is an entirely different story altogether.

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who's that lounging in my chair? [22 Oct 2003|04:22pm]
[ mood | hungry ]

ergh. typical lazy day. went to the gallery today. there's some crazy african-type art by this lady there right now. her last name is blue and i think that's so cool. i wish my name was something cool instead of something that sounds like a big hairy german man clearing his throat. eh well.

i've got some ideas for art projects. this is kinda going to be my more artsy-type journal, too, i guess. i'm not sure why i feel the need to seperate myself....i just do.

i noticed some pictures that i need to take today. this weekend or maybe friday at least will be good for that. i'm going to do some self-portraits. i think i need to get this dissecting myself out of my system. i think this girl that i keep drawing is supposed to me, but i'm kind of in denial of that. and the way she shows up puzzles me. sometimes she's pretty, sometimes she's plain. sometimes she's got shoulders as broad as a linebacker, and sometimes she's frail and vunerable-looking. i guess they're all just representations of me. they bother me to look at them.

john says that i should do more with my filmstrip-looking stuff. i guess he thinks it has potential. it's an idea, albeit not an incredibly original one. perhaps i could find some way to put a nice original element in there. i'm excited for him to start his portrait of me. i might be able to do a few sittings for him sometime when i go home, but mostly i guess he's going to work from pictures. no one's ever painted me before, so i'm not sure how i'm going to react. for the first time, i'm going to see myself through someone else's eyes.

okay, so i'm going to start the first little bit of my "life" entries tonight. starting with my birth. woo! yay for being born. *gags herself*

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the waking dream.... [22 Oct 2003|10:55am]
[ mood | distressed ]

it seems like anymore, when i wake up, i feel awful. not physically, but in my head. i feel like i've been battling demons all night. i wake up with an overwhelming feeling of despair and hopelessness. why is this happening? it might be my bad dreams, but i suspect that it's more than that. but, i mean, what? i'm probably wasting my time trying to figure this one out. matt said i've not only lost sight of the light, but that i've even forgotten what light is. i think he's right. oh dammit, i just don't know.

anyways...

i've decided to be a copycat, and kind of do what kevin did on his alter-ego journal. i'm gonna kinda write down my life, starting from the day i was born. most of you guys probably don't know that much about my past, so it'll be cool for both of us.

a ghost
is all that's left
of everything we swore
we never would forget...

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i can't take this anymore... [21 Oct 2003|12:54pm]
[ mood | depressed ]

things just get so heavy sometimes. every time i open up to love someone, and i think i can trust them.....it always falls apart. always.

i can't take this anymore
and i'm almost pretty sure
i've been here before

i can't take this any longer
i won't heal until i'm stronger
strong enough to not be afraid

of what anybody thinks
or what anybody says
respect your wishes
and your demands

oh if it were up to me
honey, we'd already be
back at home and
living out our dreams......

everybody
and everything i've known
never taught me how to stand up
on my own

had to learn it
from the one who
let me go
now i walk alone,

yeah, i walk alone......

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