if i don't eat a burritto like right now

i think i'm gonna die

i decided to stop smoking on friday. and i gave my cigarettes to Bonnie and she was happy.

and i was happy because i smell human and can breathe

and i went to the convenience store where i usually buy my cancer sticks and they were buy one get one free.

pray for my nicotine addicted soul.

i was sitting on the hood of my car smoking a cigarette in my pea coat after rehersal looking up at the trees throuh my cloud of smoke. Rehersal had just wrapped up and i was waiting for my car to warm up.I've gotten to the point that I've decided that I have to be myself completely and if anyone has an issue with that - oh well.

John had an issue with that. He disappeared. I'm honestly okay with that though. I always felt not good enough around him, and I know that I am good enough.

That sounds cocky, but whatever.

I'm not a Christian though. I don't think I am. I wish i was. So, i was staring up at my gray sky with its full moon watching my cigarette smoke coil up to heaven and I was thinking about where I was a year ago.

I didn't have to think very hard or very long. I had my nose buried in a smooth new copy of Velvet Elvis, reading every page with the big "I'm a kitten with a canary in my mouth" smile. This was a big crazy conspiracy that i really wanted to be a part of.

So what did i do?

I started making sandwiches. Sunday mornings. Bologna, cheese, wonder bread, mustard and lettuce. I probably could have gone to church, but I though this is what Jesus wanted. I was going to join the Catholic Worker Movement and (as my best friend put it) "lace up my doc martens and throw my life away". I gave most of my clothes to goodwill. I was poor, wearing the same pants all the time and perfectly content.

Then, I got a nice car. A well paying job. A new iPod. People who thought I was good, and cool and intellectual when you're not being particularly good, cool or intellectual.

I've become a jerk. I've become pretty and shallow and I don't even feel human anymore. A jerk who isn't following Jesus.

I miss who I was. And I miss Him, I kind of feel like I felt when I was waiting for John to get off work sitting in my LeSabre and getting excited everytime someone came outside. because I knew one of these people were going to be him, and I wouldn't have to be alone anymore. Except Jesus is so much better than John.

One of these days, he'll come out. And I won't be by myself anymore.

new friend :) i found him in a cage in the middle no where. he makes lots of weird liitle chirpy noises. i think he's an alien. or atleast part alien

I've never been so lonely in my life. I feel like no one wants me lately. I'm spiritually dead. I just want to dissapear. I just want to be loved and listened to for once but I'm starting to think thats too much to ask

there are requests about a John post.

tonight after we kind of gazed at each other for about twnty minutes in the backseat of his car he called me up

"Liz, i have a confession to make. You can't get angry."
"oh lord, what now?"
"theres this girl,"
my body ices over.
"and i just absolutely adore her beyond explanation."
"she got a name?"
"Elizabeth Thomas"
giggle.swoon. accidently disconnect John.

Anyway, his name is John, he's twnety two, he graduated from Middlesex with a degree in small business and does something I don't understand with vending machines, but he works at starbucks for the benefits. He's very tall, has incredible blue eyes, and wears sweaters that smell like coffee and cologne. He's a catholic (major points in my book), lives in Hopelawn, hates the Reo Diner (minus major points in my book). He has a phoinex tattooed across his back but i haven't seen it yet (just in pictures). he's sweet, intelligent, well spoken and for some crazy reason quite fond of me.

any yes. he's a boy. i know. shut up

any thing else?

Bus Station 6:55 AM

I am bound to this fate for the next thirty five minutes; that is, to sit staring at the cinder block and ceder alcove watching the cars go by.

Yesterday, I had a car. Theoretically, I still do, but the hood is smashed up against te winshield and the licence plate is in the back seat surrounded by sweaters, novels, iced tea bottles and a plair of lizard skin cowboy boots; a gift to my mother during my parents courtship. Pregnancy widened her feet, now they are mine.

Had I died, what would they have gathered about me from my car? My Coltrane CDs, a never opened copy of the Bhagavad Gita, a pink, green and gray striped French Connection sweater that smelled of Lili Bermuda Oleander Perfume, red lace underwear kicked under the passenger sea in an encounter i don't quite remember, tubes of lipstick, and me hunched over in my green skirt, blue belt, yellow camisole and gray sweater that i traded for a ten dollar bill some years ago in westfield with identical rips in the elbows of each arm. My feet sockless in black Doc Marten Shoes, my ankle bruised and swelling as it is now. A gold cross around my neck whith a rose where the beams meet. Do roses grow in the desert? Who would ever think that crucifixion could become decoration.


So here I am on this misty morning in this gray town waiting for the bus, feeling a bit like Lewis' protagonist in the Great Divorce, which is perhaps my favourite book in the world, but I know that where I'm going there will be no bright spirits to hold me up and no one to tell me that I was created for infinite happiness that i can step into at any moment. There is only Algebra.

I can see the headlights through the mist! Fare thee well!

*sigh*

i totaled my car.

for some reason, i'm not sad.

i did something to my ankle leving Stefs house.

It hurts like bitch i sat in my car and cried. i haven't cried because of physical pain since i was maybe...ten-ish?

seeing John tommorow probably :) :) :)

{EDIT}

i think i have a sprained ankle which no will not stop me from lunchig with my beau.

So i decided to stick my dumb ankle in the sink filled with cold water.

Aslan, being my noble steed, decided to stick his whole head in the water and then his arms and then he started splashing me and drinking my foot water.

freaky water cat

i think i'm in love.

its that whole can't eat, can't sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, world series kind of stuff

i know i said i never would be. that I'm a solitary creature but I'm crazy about

a

boy

named

john.

*sigh*

where is Jesus when you're sitting in bed crying your eyes out, your friends won't return your texts and your cats sit in aline staring blankly at you?

http://www.greenfaith.org/

This organisation is based like fifteen minutes away from my house!!

i'm joining

I'm getting a really bad cold. I slept like all day.




isn't george beautiful? he's the coolest cat in the world :)

So, I need help. Input. I have to write a book report about anything covered in my western civ class, which starts at cavemen and ends at the begining of american civilization.

I kind of want to find a book about Neanderthal Spirituality. They buried their dead, believed in an afterlife and worshipped some kind of higher power which i think is AWESOME. Most of the books i found on amazon about neanderthals are either crazy young earth creationists or people who think that there are still neanderthals living in central asia. I don't see my histoy prof going for that.

i made a ten dollar tip bathing a Rottweiler named Casey :)

i absolutely love my job


When i'm not working my ass off rising lathering and repeating on doggies of all shapes and sizes, falling asleep in class or cuddling up with my cats I am at the library on Stelton Road. Its absolluetly deserted during the day which is quite nic e (unlike the Middlesex library which is a madhouse). Theres only one issue.

This is going to sound horrible but i need to get it off my chest:

I think I mentioned the other day that I accidently brushed up against a cute orthodox jew boy and felt bad about it. So anyway, on friday i'm standing in an aisle looking for a book; Sophies World. theres a guy a few feet away from me. He's my age but he's got a beard and hes wearing black loafers, blackpants a white shirt, a kippah and he has tassels showing. I bet he knows where to get the best matzoh ball soup in highland park. I on the otherhand am wearing cords with black penny loafers, my brothers old boy scout shirt and my hair down and wavy on my shoulders. I pack a soy juice box in my purse and listen to a lot of janis joplin

I see the book, hes in front of it but its at crotch level so I don't want to reach and accidently molest him or anything. He bends down and we're looking at the same shelf. I say "excuse me, can you please pass me Sophies World, its right over there." in my quiet library voice. i answer no glance no nothing. Couldn't he just pass it to me and not say anything. He could have put it on the floor by my foot and it would have been like we'd never interacted.

But no. He ignored me instead. I was so frustrated that I forgot to even get my book and instead sat by the microflim reader and sulked.