I am going to drop down dead now. Today has been a horrendously long, busy day.
I slept very ill again last night with troubling dreams.
One part of one of them sticks out to my mind very clearly.
A boy, clearly several years younger than me was trying to hit on me. I was disgusted that he tried to do this, but I humoured him because he was such a gorgeous kid. He had yellow-y blonde hair. Brighter and more golden than platinum but almost as light. It was long and in a very fitting, stylish cut and obviously very healthy.
And his eyes were so blue. I could swear that his two eyes were bright chinks of glistening clear blue sky carved out to be suspended in his glowing, angelic face.
I want a photograph of that boy so bad. He was so beautiful...
But anyway, I mentioned the great gap in ages.
"But kid, look, I'm seventeen and you are what..."
I trailed off and let him finish for many ages ranging from thirteen to fifteen spun through my head.
He finished and said with a twinkle in his eye, that he was twelve.
I laughed and pointed this out.
"See? Seventeen and twelve! I mean really..."
And then he looked at me (although he already had been looking at me full in that face. Gosh. I cannot forget that. The beautiful, open caring and honesty mixed with a handsome playfulness...he was so precious... so gorgeous... I loved this boy as a brother...) and a strange look came about his face. Knowing, ominous, almost malice spread across his face. He shot at me with a certain prophetic darkness, all in a split second, and in a slightly changed tone,
"Twenty nine...twenty nine."
The sum of our ages...and...
That was just way too spooky for me. What is the significance of the sum of our ages? Aside from it being...
I take my dreams far too seriously. But that boy was so vivid and beautiful and I cannot forget how he said that.
The dream continued on, that hardly a shadow, and nothing else worth mentioning happened.
I woke up late, and rolled out of bed to shower and dress (and hopefully grab a quick breakfast this morning) in preparation of the great shopping trip before us. A trip with my father and all my siblings to buy birthday presents for my mother.
We were out about four hours, scurrying around Wal Mart and malls and the grocery store and...ugh.
It was so hard to walk through the mall. All the girls dressed so much better than I could...all the clothes stores and knowing that I might not be able to buy new clothes at all this summer. And I need new clothes so bad. I am stringing along on winter jeans, ill fitting hand me down tees from my mom, trashed shirts I got over two years ago, and the few new pieces bought without thought for lasting and fit last year.
As for shoes, I have a pair of too big flip flops, a pair of too small brown platform slides, an out of style pair of tennis shoes, and three pairs of uncomfortable out of style dress shoes, one black, two white.
But it has to do...it has to do... And sometimes, especially when we have to go out like that, its hard for me not to think of this and feel sorry for myself and jealous of all the other girls, and covetous for new clothes.
I won't think about it though. I refuse to. My mother has a sewing machine and all sorts of things. I have old clothes to cut up and re-invent. I have seen a few pairs of cheap decent semi fashionable shoes at Wal Mart. Perhaps I can convince my parents to buy me a pair or two... I will make do with creativity and inventiveness. I can look original at least. Hopefully semi cool too...
After that long, dreary, disheartening trip, I was exhausted, I had a headache, and my feet hurt badly from the too small white dress shoes I had worn.
I got home, took a tylenol, and took a two hour nap. I didn't want to get out of bed when I got up, but I had to. We had company. Blech. A belated celebration for my mother's birthday (she's thirty seven this year).
So I had to go endure a few hours with relatives. Eating and present opening and fun on the trampoline.
But now, I am even more exhausted. Such a long day. So tiring. I can't think straight. Just...ugh. I've had a day of it indeed. I think we might be doing something tomorrow, but I don't know for sure. I might be imagining things.
And then I think I heard maybe we are going to a baseball game next Sunday. I think. I'm not sure if my family and I are going or not. If so...oh man. Ugh. I hate going to baseball games. I am bringing my headphones, some cds, and a book this time. And some sort of cushion to sit on. We went to a baseball game once last summer. It was a torture. I hated it. Such a long bore. Ew. And now I might have to go through it again...*sigh*