One.

I have lost my whimsy.

I have lost my sense of hope.

I have lost my spontaneity.

I have lost my friends.

I have failed in love and relationships.

I have failed in the one thing I thought I was good at.

I have failed in plans.

I have failed myself.

I am nothing but a lonely drone, working for no one.

Unable to be hired.

Unable to support myself.

Unable.

I have given up on my dreams.

I have given up on my wonder.

I have given up on crossed fingers and wishing for you at 11:11.

I have given up myself to too many who have since rejected me.

I need to hit rock bottom to get my inspiration back, I need to hit rock bottom to feel alive just one more time.

1994

Nothing was more important than finding
the perfect yellow rose
in grandma and grandpa's backyard.
"This one grandma!" I would yell with my
four year old lungs and my long blond hair blowing in my face.
Those were my favorite times.
I still searched for the perfect yellow rose during our visits with grandpa after grandma died.
"This one mom." I said many years later with my
10 year old lungs and my long blond hair
blowing in my face.
Now they're both gone and their house
is someone else's home.
Somehow I know that there is still
an enthusiastic young girl, with her long hair
blowing in her face, searching for
the perfect yellow rose.

Homebody

Lately, I have been doing, pretty much, absolutely nothing. I sit at home, watching movies or t.v. or doing homework and the days I'm not sitting on my ass, I'm at school barely staying awake. I really, do not have a life. It sucks. When I was in high school, every weekend was booked and every weekday was booked and now..Tuesdays and Thursdays are booked..
I miss my friends more than anything but it doesn't feel like they miss me. They all have new friends who are more relevant in their lives, which I knew would happen, but I guess I just hoped that I'd make new friends too. I've made one new friend and she's awesome but we only see each other in class and shit.
I just don't want to waste the best years of my life.
However, I think I'm well on my way to making that fear reality.
Well..Yeah.
Woo hoo for pessimism!
False.


Just gotta tell myself, HEY! Get get get get, get over it!
asdahkl


adieu.
Nikki

Magic Road.

When my sister and I were younger, my parents would load us into the car about once a month and take us to Oroville to visit our great-grandpa Galli. These trips meant a lot to all of us, especially my dad. I was about six and we were taking our monthly expedition in my dad's 1970 Bonneville convertible. Now, this car is HUGE and we just so happened to be traveling up a pretty narrow road on the side of a rather steep mountain and we were all crossing our fingers.
My sister and I were in the back seat and I had my feet out the window pretending to be asleep. When I finally opened my eyes, all I saw in front of me were brilliant greens, rich browns, and warm mahogany rushing passed us. As the engine roared and my parents laughed and the radio played in the background, all I saw were the hypnotic colors. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I imagined myself running through the forest. I was not running from anything or to anything in particular, just running. It was like we were on a magical road leading us to the most beautiful forest anyone could ever imagine.
After grandpa Galli died, our monthly trips turned into "every now and then" trips but we never took the magical road again. Less than a year ago, my mom and dad bought a piece of property in a town called Berry Creek which is about 20 miles away from Oroville. They visit every other weekend or so and plan to build a house on it eventually. I have yet to visit the property in Berry Creek but I hear it is a lovely place and someday I'll visit, I'm sure.
Whenever my parents mention their plan to visit Berry Creek I can't help but let my mind wander back to the backseat of the gigantic Bonneville 13 years ago. I see the brilliant greens, the rich browns, and the warm mahogany. I can still hear the roar of the engine, the sound of my parents laughter, and the soft background music of the radio. I think of this memory and I smile at how the imagination of a six year old girl with the world at her feet turned a monthly family trip into the magical road that lead to Grandpa Galli.

Conquering the mighty Spiderman.

Mikey stood there gripping the aluminum bat as Mr.Howard tied the soft, red handkerchief around his eyes. In two seconds the bright sunny day disappeared from Mikey's sight and everything went dark. He was spun 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 times in a circle and wavered as he was release from Mr.Howard's grip. Suddenly a new form overcame Mikey. This wasn't his first birthday party and he was more than ready to be the first to break open the Pinata. Four boys had already gone ahead if him and all four of them had failed to even crack the glorious spiderman pinata. Mikey was determined that he would not be like the other boys, oh no, not this time.
Mikey took a deep breath, steadied his head from the spinning, tightened his grip on the bat, and listened. He heard the rope rubbing against the basketball hoop, he heard the thin paper fluttering in the air, he heard the boy's cheering for him, and he felt the soft wind from the cardboard super hero gently brush his face from only one foot away. He could smell the hot dogs on the barbecue and the sweat on the grip of the bat. Suddenly, "whoosh", and spiderman was directly in front of him, just one foot away. One foot away from the delicious sweets inside, one foot away from him being the hero of the party, one foot away from sheer joy.
"C'mon Mike, we don't have all day." Mr. Howard called from behind. Then, in one swift motion, Mikey took a huge step forward, cocked the bat, and swung. He was so fast no one saw it coming. Mikey made instant contact. He felt spiderman give underneath his lethal hands and ripped off the handkerchief. He looked at the ground and saw the pile of delicious sweets, the group of greedy boys, and a very destroyed spiderman lying at his feet. Finally Mikey had achieved his goal, finally HE would be the hero of the party, finally HE would have the bragging rights. Michael James Finnegan smiled victoriously and dove to the ground to fill his party bag with his winnings.

Lucy

This is just something that came to me this morning and I think that there's a lot of room for it to grow.
I wrote it for my short story writing class.

The the middle of everything, there I was. My name is Lucy Marie Forrester and I've been on my own for a while. After my parents died, my brother Evan and my sister Renee moved to suburbia to raise families and I stayed in New York City in the apartment I was raised in. Everyone keeps telling me that the city has nothing left for me, but I don't believe them. No one understands why I stay, and they don't have to. I have dreams, big dreams, and I know that New York, New York is the place to achieve them.
Here are the facts about me; I'm approximately twenty-three years and 65 days old, I'm about five foot 3 inches, and I weigh (roughly) 146 pounds. I have a cute button nose, bright blue eyes, full lips, and the cheek bones of Ingrid Bergman. My auburn hair hangs in curls just at my shoulders. I'm a completely average American female who believes she's in the right place at the wrong time.
"C'mon Luce, what's left for you here?" Evan said,"You're not gonna be a 'big' movie star. Maybe a a BIG star, but not a 'big' movie star."
Evan added an unnecessary emphasis on the second "big" in his sentence and made a circular motion around his abdomen.
"Fuck you Evan. Why do you always have to be such a jerk? Mom and dad always told me that I had a gift and that I was unique, I'll be damned if I let someone like you ruin that for me."
"Lucy,"Evan said very seriously,"I'm just stating the facts. Hollywood isn't looking for short, fat actresses. Look at Angelina Jolie, is she short and fat? No."
"What about Marilyn Monroe?" I retorted,"She wore a size fourteen dress."
"Luce, this is not the 50's. Society does not think that's beautiful anymore. I'm saying this because I love you, I'm your brother, and I don't want to see you get hurt. Just give up. It isn't worth it."
When that conversation was finally over, I began practicing my lines for my audition next week. You see, I want to be a Broadway star and my audition next week is for the role of Rizzo in the musical "Grease". Although I'm auditioning for Rizzo, I really don't mind who they cast me as, as long as I get a part. Evan's just a dick because he has no dreams of his own, and I feel sorry for him. As I pushed the heated conversation that just ensued with my only brother out of my head, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and began to sing.
Lucy's heart was pounding against her ribcage, her palms were sweaty, and her knees were shaking uncontrollably. It was two hours before her big audition and the only line running through her mind was, "Please Luce, do NOT screw this one up". All of her lines were memorized, all of her papers were filled out, and every single nerve in her body had gone numb. Stage fright wasn't new for Lucy but this audition was different. If she got this part, she'd be able to pay her rent and wouldn't have to play house in Central park until the next part rolled around. Lucy closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and and listened to the clock as her big break drew closer and closer.
When it all started, I walked out to the luminous stage to face the four casting directors.
"Name?" The bald man in the purple sweater all the way to the left of the table called out.
"Lucy Forrester" I called back.
"Well then Lucy, you have 10 minutes to do your song and monologue we've asked you to prepare. If we like you, you'll get a callback. Please begin whenever you're ready."
I nodded my head twice, took a deep breath, stood up straight, and began to sing.

1-20-09

What an amazing time to be an American.

The New Year

Another year and the same pessimism. Some things never change. I think it's time to cut a few ties and make some new friends.
Sadly, I've become some sort of recluse in the last few weeks and I hate it. I can't seem to get out of it either. I don't see the use in trying to have a good year because they always end up being shit.
I wonder what's going to ruin 2009.. Hmm..
We'll just have to wait and see I suppose..
If they manufacture optimism pills I would like a running prescription, pretty please.

Well one week until I'm another year closer to death.
Wow, almost 19 years on this earth and I'm the biggest cynic I have ever met.
Happy New Year.
Let's hope '09 is much better than '08 turned out to be.

adieu.

Whiskers on Kittens..

One of my favorite things of all time is when I see my uncle Steve and he says; "Hello Beautiful" or "Hey good-lookin".

I love it.
I love him.
I love my family.
I don't know why I get such a kick out of it. Maybe because I know he means it and I know how much he loves me so it matters just that much more.
It makes my week every time.

Introduction

December 24th, 1988

I'm writing this, not because I feel obligated, but because I believe the world deserves to know their stories other than myself. They never chose this life, I chose it for them and after that, they were stuck. Trapped even. Either way they never had enough guts to even try to get out so I never felt guilty. They were my freaks and I, their ringmaster. I made them famous for their disgusting disfigurements and they still hated me. But that is what I wanted all along, power. I wanted all of my freaks to hate and fear me because I knew that no matter what, they would stay with me because I was the only one in the entire world who made them feel even remotely special. They were special. Every single one of them.
Now and again I begin to pity them. Sure, I put them through some really tough challenges but they all came through every time.. All but one.. This is why I am writing this journal, so the world may learn of their struggles and appreciate them for what they truly were. Human beings. They were my family for 40 years and not a day goes by that I do not think of them. I never apologized, and I do not feel the need to. I took in a terrible group of misfits with no future and I made them stars and they repay me by.. Well.. You will see.. I gave them all the chances that they never dreamed of having and they still never thanked me.
Some say it is because the abuse or the cramped living quarters or the many days with no food. I think that I worked far too hard to experience such disrespect from a group of ingrates. Never trust a freak they say, and I agree. Anyway, I must get this off my chest. I have been holing it in for far too long. However, I must warn you now that these are not your run of the mill "happy stories". Every individual will have a different reaction. I do not want them to make you happy, I want them to inform you. I want them to teach you of a world that you will, hopefully, never have to experience. If you want to read stories of the wonderful thrill of the carnival, look elsewhere because this will not be your cup of tea.
You may think that I am the villain right now, but I loved them all and sooner or later, you will see it my way.

And the winner is..

Barack Obama.
Thank God.
I was literally crying. I'm finally proud to be an American.

Finally.

Fuck you blogspot

It just deleted my entire new blog that I just wrote.
I don't even feel like fucking writing it again.




God damnit.
Basically, my car is fucking broken again and my parents are making me feel like shit about it.

Dress Shopping.

Today was quite possibly one of the most exhausting days I've had in a long time.
First, I couldn't get to sleep until 3 am and then had to wake up at 8am.
Then I took a test, not so bad.
Then I had to face my other two classes.
Then.. I met my sister and mother at the mall to go dress shopping for my cousin's wedding.
Well.. Until today, I never realized how ashamed and embarrassed my mom is to have 2 overweight daughters. Her opinion is the one that matters the most and she is the one who has shoved me towards not loving myself.
Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children and how can those children even begin to love themselves if their God is embarrassed by them.
I'm sorry I'm not a size 2, I'm sorry I'm not even a size 10! I want to be thin so I can be beautiful in the eyes of society instead of only being beautiful when I see myself in the mirror. I'm embarrassed for my mother. I wish I was the way society thinks I should be.
Maybe I wouldn't feel so unaccepted by the one who's supposed to encourage me and make me love myself no matter what.
I hate the way this makes me feel. I love my mother more than anything in this entire world and to me, she's perfect. Why can't she feel the same way about me?
I'm tired of not being good enough.
I'm tired of not being thin enough or pretty enough or rich enough or nice enough or outgoing enough. But most of all, I'm tired of not loving myself enough to not be so damn self conscious.
Today, made me feel like shit.
This whole shebang will keep making me feel like shit. I hate that society has put a label on how everyone should look but most of all, I hate that everyone follows that.
I just want everyone to fucking accept the fact that not everyone in the world is cut out to be a size 2.
This is so ridiculous.







I found a dress anyway. And it was $168 and I don't care because it made me feel pretty..

Johnny's in the basement mixin' up the medicine.

Every evening is the same headache. I know that no matter how many pills I take, it will come back so I've just given up. I don't know where it comes from or why, but it does. Just like clock work, every evening I have a terrible pounding in my head that doesn't subside until I take something or go to sleep. This used to happen every night of sophomore year then junior year came and it only happened every now and then but then senior year came and it came back. Almost every night. Is it from stress? Do I bring it upon myself? Is it my wisdom teeth? Is it my eyes? I don't know, all I know is that it's quite a burden. I haven't gotten one when I'm driving yet but I know that it will most likely happen soon and I don't know what I'll do if it does.
Every evening is the same headache.
Out of nowhere.
With headaches, there isn't really a complete cure. If you have constant stomach aches, you can get medication and they will go away. It just seems like they're completely out of your hands to fix. The human body is a very confusing place.
Oh well, just gotta tough it out for another night.

This is such a waste of time and internet.
Dumb ass blog.
No one reads it anyway.








Nikki.

Raise your left hand if you feel any discomfort.

I hate going to the dentist. Not because I fear having a cavity or my teeth cleaned but simply because the idea of having a stranger feel around in my mouth for an hour really grosses me out. Also, it really irritates me when they try to talk to you when they're in your mouth up to their wrist.
"So, are you in school?" (As if I can answer) I attempt at a yeah but get a muffled "Hyeeaahh". As I sit in the dentist chair all I can think about is how terrible I must look lying down with my mouth open, drooling, with a lovely double chin in tact. It is very easy for me to get embarrassed and when the time came for the inevitable gob of spit to get stuck on the tooth polisher, I couldn't help but laugh and being that at that moment, good old Ron was the closest a male has been to my mouth since may, he heard me and said laughing, "That's completely normal, the toothpaste is really sticky."
I shudder to think why he thought I laughed.
Well, I left with my pride a bit tarnished but still in tact, for the most part.
Oh how I cannot wait to go to the gynecologist and experience yet another ridiculous situation that turns my cheeks red and gives me something to blog about.
Not.
Trust me, if that ever happens it will not be explicit.
you freaks.

Anyway, hallelujah for pearly whites and almost 19 years with no cavities.
until next time,

Nikki.

Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.

here's lookin' at you kid.
Greatest movie ever.

I ran out of titles a long time ago.

I have been living inside of my head the past few days. I make up scenarios and I try to entertain myself and I think that I'm going crazy. I'm pretty positive that I need new friends, friends who actually want to spend time with me and can spend time with me and who will call me. It's not that I dislike my current friends, not at all I love them like family, but I need some change. However, I am afraid that I'm not interesting enough or outgoing enough to make new friends. It was so easy to make friends in elementary, middle, and high school and I have a terrible feeling that DVC will be drastically different.
I'm just worried. I'm worried about everything. I'm worried about my mental state, my physical state, my family situation, my friend situation.. Just my life situation in general.
I can't be positive anymore because I'm so worried..
It's terrible. I feel so bad about myself.
Fuck.



adieu,
Nikki

Future plans..

I want to write a book. I have my mind made up and I want to write a book. And not just a bullshit book, a legitimate book with substance that makes you think. I want to travel and experience life to its full extent and write about anything and everything I can come up with. I want someone to read it and set it down and say, "Wow.. That was a good book." and I don't care if only one person in the entire world reads it, as long as I'm happy with it and I'm proud of it, that's all that matters. I don't want it to change the world, but I do want it to change my life. I want it to enlighten one individual like me and change their life. I want to write a book.
I want to change myself with that book, but not in a bad way. I want it to help me grow up.


My next ambition, change the world.
And after that, change the universe.
And after that, have everything go back to normal and get married to a nice Scottish boy and pop out a few kids.

I've made up my mind.


adieu,
Nikki

Cellar Door

I think that my mental state has improved between the time of my last post and this one. I just have to come to terms with a few things, which I hate to do and that is why I have yet to do so. I just need someone unexpected to come back into my life or into it in general. Someone who knows nothing of my situation I have been dealing with so I can just vent to them, so I can just let it all out because I haven't been able to do that with most of my friends I've talked to about it. I love them for being there and they have exceeded my expectations but sometimes all you need is to talk to a stranger face to face and hope that they can help in some way. Aside from that, So far so good on project "Staying busy", which is helping a lot.
Well, another "clusterfuck", for lack of a better word, has jammed itself in between the line of mind numbing pain and mental restoration in my lovely family. Shit happens I guess and there's nothing I can do, or want to do for that matter. My best bet at the moment is to keep my mouth shut because it has definitely gotten me in trouble in the past with a few individuals from my afflicted family.
I know, as a reader, you couldn't care less about my ridiculous family and their ridiculous issues and I still don't know if anyone even reads what I write or listens to what I have to say but if you do, thank you.
I know one thing, I have to remain close with the ones I love and trust because once you let them slip away, even a little, they may do something that will hurt you tremendously and frankly, I'm sick and tired of being hurt and taken advantage of. I just hope that everything will take a turn for the better very soon because I'm frightened to see how much worse it can get.



until next time,
Nikki

Get me out of my mind..

I thought I was doing well.. But I'm not. Not in the least.
To make matters worse, my dog Bullseye, who was actually my late granfather's dog, is dying. I feel like getting in my car and just driving. I don't care where but somewhere, I have to go. I can't be here right now. I can't deal with any of this, It's like there's just no way for me to cope. I can't keep my mind off of it because that's all anyone talks about, the only way that I can be comforted right now is if I get my mind to travel somewhere where I don't have to hear or talk about my uncle's death or my uncle's memorial or my uncle's viewing or the fact that I'm being a terrible grand daughter by not visiting my grandparents yet.. I can't, I'm not strong enough. I can't do this right now.

Please wake up Nikki, wake up.. wake up..