Monday, May 8, 2006

D.C. (And afterward)
THE TRUTH ABOUT WASHINGTON D.C.

By: Me



Day One:

D.C., the Nation's Capital, is looming ahead and I'm rather excited. There are really a couple main reasons for this, considering I've been on a stinky bus since 6-something in the morning, the Peroxide Puppies are screaming and laughing and being dumb behind me, and there's some movie that I don't like on.

Coach Carter, I believe.

So, our air conditioning isn't working and Lizzie and I are over giddy, my ipod has run outta batteries and I want so badly to fall asleep. The sky is dark and its almost 9 o'clock (estimated time of arrival) and there's all these lights.

I take a few pictures on my camera phone of the Potomic River and then lean back.

More giggles from the PPs.

So, when we get off the bus and make our way to the EXTREMELY slow elevator (Mr. Soos' cheap ass made us stay at Best Western) and went into our room.

Now, this is where things get a bit iffy. Like an opening to a movie that seems pretty good, but then kinda has the bumpy up-and-down-good-or-bad thing going on, ya know?

Aviva was kinda grumpy. I mean, I totally get she's an only child, but really. She was always saying, "We need to be quiet, we need to go to sleep, blah. . . blah. . . blah. . . " But we kinda had fun. I mean she wasn't sooooo anal all the time. Just when it came to that stuff.

Amber (who wasn't our original group member. Soos, again) was on the phone basically ALL night.

So, Aviva and I took a shower that night and went to sleep.

Day Two:



This is where things get a bit fuzzy.

We saw the Vietnam Memorial, met our Tour Guide John (Who, I'm going to call Nigel) and saw FDR memorial, along with WWII.

Then, Aviva, Lizzie, and I (along with Kristina, Ms. Kish, and Ms. Cleary) got lost. Seperated from Guzz-Guzz, John, and all of bus one.

Then Guzz-Guzz yelled at us.

Here's the WHOLE STORY. . .

Ya see, Lizzie, Aviva, and I were at the Lincoln Memorial and I'd just given the single most psychological answer to one of Nigel's questions. And he was all, "Now, we're going to stand where Martin Luther King stood for his I have a dream speech."

Lizzie and I walked off to the side (I think we were following Aviva) and held onto the banister becayse those stairs are MASSIVE. And so, seeing Aviva, we caught up with her and followed Cleary and Kish.

We asked to go back, but they--evidently lost, also--said that was a bad idea and we continued to the bus.

Well, I guess we worried Guzz-Guzz (who is my teacher, Mrs. Guzzardo) because SOON AS we were off that bus she scolded us.

Aviva and Lizzie felt REALLY guilty about that and got mad at me when I kept making jokes. They were all, "Why do you always have to make light of a situation?!" "This isn't funny."

And I just let it slide. I couldn't feel guilty about something that was not my fault. I mean, she didn't even let us explain what happened.

Day Three:



Lizzie was driving me INSANE!! It started off when I was going to get something she was all, "Wanna run get my name tag?" and I didn't really, and told her that, but she didn't seem to care and when I couldn't find it she sent Aviva.

Well, Aviva couldn't find it either and it turns out its in her bag. Here's a notebook entry I wrote on that day:

In my dream last night, men were marching. They had tailored black suits adn shiny black shoes.

And they were marching.

All in a straight line.

Thousands of them.

One by one, around them, people were suffering, dying, and being tortured.

But, unfazed, those men marched on.

I figured it was symbolic, and quite often when I'm pissed off, I refer to that dream. And . . . well. . . change certain details to fit my point.

But there is one tiny itsy bitsy thing that REALLY pisses me off.

When people deliberately ignore me.

And its happening NOW.

I've done massive amounts of idiotic, half thought out schemes, but this was actually the most moronic. I asked my two best friends (both anal) to share a room in D.C.

That screams DUMBASS, right there.

I mean, today was HORRID and is spiraling downward at a rapid rate.

Lets account of all:

I love Lizzie and Vivi, really I do. They're cool. A bit bizzare, but cool.

All day, though, Lizzie has been managing to piss me off. Stupuid, annoying things that really drive me insane!! So, I get really mad at her at the Smithsonian.

So she attaches herself to Aviva at the Art Museum and am almost completely ignored by both of them.

Then, in the gift shop I was acknowledged three major times. Once when they told me about the Japanese display; When I wasnted to show Aviva the framed version of Lady with a parasol to which I was answered as, "Lizzie?"

And third when they wanted to leave and decieded that my buying of something was unimportant.

THEN I WAS COMPLETELY IGNORED AT THE NATURE MUSEUM.

They walked off without me and came back 2 HOURS later, laughing. Then, Lizzie, the nerve was all, "wanna sit with me on the bus, Aviva?"

I could put my head in a toliet about now. Or I would be willing to--nevermind. Whatever. I really don't care.

'Cause you know, I don't have to deal with it.

Soo, that was on the bus toward Smokey Glen. And Lizzie and I got into these fights at the hotel room.

Day Four:

Dude, Alex H. had sex with goo. And was all, "I raped the goo." to every girl who walked passed.

Lizzie?

We had an on and off day, then, finally evened out and talked almost all the way home.

AND SAW THE CUTEST BABY IN THE WORLD!!!!! At the bus stop!



That was D.C.

The wholllle truth.

Here's some funny convo's, though.

___________________________

Lizzie: I don't want to sleep with her! I don't know her! How do I know she doesn't have some disease transmitted by bed sheets? Hunh?

Me: Fine. Sleep with me.

Aviva: I wanna sleep with you!

Me:. . . Well, this poses a problem, doesn't it?



Lizzie: I pledge allgience to the the flag of the United States of American and to the republic--- DRINK MILK!

Tour Guide: So, both the north and the south are fighting for freedom. What stops them from compromise?

Me: Testorone.

Aviva: I don't see why people thing I'm a lesbian. . .I mean. . .

Me: Aviva! How. . . how could you say that. . . I . . . I loved you. . .



So, that was the truth about D.C.



Now, here's Today:



I don't know what's Lizzie's problem. But she's being a bitch. Toooooo much of a bitch for my sake.

I mean, I haven't done shit to her.

But it seems like ever since D.C. and she found out people think we're Lesbians she's been all 'Rawr' at me. Like, she has this sudden PERSONAL SPACE bullshit. And in choir today, when I had to sit next to her she all rolled her eyes.

Today she was being bitchy for no reason. This morning she stole the swivel chair I always sit in and wouldn't get up until she had to go. And she only talked to me when SHE wanted to.

Then had the nerve to ask me for my pen in choir.

I mean, what's up with that?

But . . . anyway. . . I got to talk to Brenden. . .

He stood at the bus stop and talked with Kirstie and me. Only he brought these girls he wanted to ask out in it frequently.

I can't believe I still like him. . . I mean. . . not like he'll ever want me. I'm all ugly.

Maybe, I'm starting to think, Lizzie was right. I am ugly with a pig nose and no one would go out with me.

Well, at least I picked a career in which my ugliness can remain a secret.

Unlike her. Who wants to be a singer.

And all I wanna say is, "Honey, nobody wanna look at that for a 2 fucking hour concert."



I don't ask for much. Only for someone to love me. I'm starting not even to care about the lesbian rumors that are flying around. I mean, I know I'm not (though I act like it sometimes). And Lizzie should be confident enough to know she isn't either.

I mean, whats wrong with hugging and being able to touch.

Isn't that was being a human is? Being able to touch, feel, and experience? I mean, the PPs hold hands and hug all the time.

Is it different when someone like me does it?

Does the whole outlook on life change when your a different race, social status, person in whole?

I kinda read this small poem, by a Gypsy (Roma) named Papuzsa. And I really like it.





No one understands me

Only the forest and the river

That of which I speak

Has all, all passed away

Everything has gone with it--

And those years of youth





Yeah. . . so that's my life.

Horrid.

My philosphy is seemingly true from these last couple days.

THAT THIS IS HELL.

I murdered SOMEONE

AND NOW I'M PAYING THE PRICE.

This universe is full of destruction and strife.

THE LITTLE GOODNESS WE HAVE

Is in little amounts.

SOMEWHERE.

And we can only access it.

Through the PUREST of hearts.



"Quod me nutrit, me destruit." --Angelina Jolie