This is officially scary.

If the person sitting next to me in the computer lab right now looks over here at what I'm doing on my computer, I am so screwed.

I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it's that I tend to put on an emotional strip show in this journal, and right now I don't think I really want him to see that.

Not that putting it online is much better; if he does just a little linksurfing from one of the sites he visits every day (cameo day! cameo day! He's the one with the beard in Fanboy Otaku Gamer's Club today ... only he shaved yesterday, making it look not so much like him anymore) he's going to come here, identify me immediately by my username, and see himself in damn near every journal entry.

He's one of my best friends; it's natural that he show up in my online life. He's gotten to read bits of my journal before, my paper journal. In that, I write everything I don't need anyone else to see in another language. The guy in question is learning one of the languages that I write in. My sister taught me that language. There's another language I write in that only I and my biological sister know. That's the one I use for the really deep and potentially dangerous personal things in my paper journal.

Online it's a safer sort of place. I can complain about rejection, babble senselessly at all hours, and in general write like I don't care who's reading it.

My sister reads it occasionally. She's generally amused. I haven't shown her the bitchy entries.

I can bitch online. I don't have to act more grown-up than I am. Eventually I'll grow up so much that I won't need to bitch. I hope.

But... ...to have my best guyfriend read the journal entries talking about him?

I wouldn't mind if he read it and said nothing. But if he read it and then confronted me about it...

...I might crumble. I hate crying in front of people. I don't think I've ever actually *cried* in front of him. I've broken down over the phone, so late at night the battery on the cordless had gone dead, with the speakerphone clasped up against my ear, sitting wrapped in a blanket shaking on the floor propped up against the wall, but never that I remember crying in front of him.

I do like to keep my walls up in person.

I can't even talk about the things that matter most to me. I have to write them or type them. The words come smoothly when I'm writing, or typing, though I have more typos now than I did when I was typing my life's story and my life's work every day.

I don't know what's going to happen between me and my best friend. Probably nothing, though we're getting closer ...

It's becoming much easier to smack down the urge to reach with my physical hand and grab.

Wow, I'm giggly.

No caffeine this morning, but I'm bouncing up and down in my brain like I just had a kosher Mountain Dew *and* a Mountain Dew Code Red. Gee, I wonder why. The bizarre link in my head (helloooooo person looking over my shoulder!!!) just woke up.

Like I said, hyper.

Not that this is a bad thing. But I am super-giggly, and kind of prone to jumping up and down physically, and grinning like an idiot for no apparent reason.

No non-apparent reason either, come to think of it.

My sister's getting used to a very weird hand-gesture I keep making, where I hold my left hand up in the air with fingers curved, almost as if to catch a ball, but not quite.

It'll all make sense someday. Meanwhile, I'm taking it one day at a time...

Are those ears real?

Dew run.

I don't think I'm hyper enough. My sister just came in with an english paper due in 6 minutes, and is frantically upgrading it from rough draft to final draft in said time. She was bearing my precious bag of chocolate covered espresso beans, which I'd carefully tucked into a dark nook of the cupboard.

Not that I'm selfish, but I happen to know that too much caffeine sends this woman into a coma.

Oy.

I'm gonna go get some Dew and get hyper.

!!

Well.

Had interesting mental images interrupting Access class. Had a nice long chat with some of my friends in the cafeteria. Very proud of my best guyfriend for putting up with Shrimpy for so long, especially because of... well. Shrimpy's Shrimpy, and anyone who can live in the same classroom with him for two years and not Tula his ass deserves highest respect in my book.

*sigh*

Interesting morning, at least.

Cooking

Why do I hate it so much? I'm perfectly good at it, when I choose to do it. Guess I'm just lazy. I'd love to have a job doing this, just putting out useless words online for pay.

I was born to be a writer.

Damn, it's sunset already.

work

Don't think that this job is going to last much longer. Been absent too much. My sis's schedule is erratic, and my work schedule depends on hers, and I don't get hers until the last moment.

Argh, in a word.

I don't like it much, but it doesn't feel like *real* job. I just sit there and talk to people. Wish it worked out better schedule-wise.