Response to questions and to old entries

Beware of extreme length. Here are some of my answers to questions from: Sara-What is your favorite food? I don't have one specific food. I like different things. Sweet things mostly.
What was your favorite game/toy as a youngster? I loved my Barbies! My brother used to crash over my 3 story Barbie dream house. Three year olds. *rolls eyes*
When did you realize that your faith was something important to you or did you just always know? I've always known. I knew when I was very young that I was Christain. I've just been raised this way. It's as much a part of me as my hand. When I was really little, I was in my room and I was playing with my toy phone. Mom kept hearing me slam it down and huff. After two hours of this, she comes in and asks me what I was doing. "He's not home." "Who's not home?" "Jesus. He's still at the store buying fish and water." I firmly believe that I was talking to Mary, as I said, that day. B-1.)  What size shoe do you wear? Depends on the shoe but, around 7 (American size).
2.)  What was your funniest and most embarassing moment? I tend to forget the embarassing stuff nearly as quickly as it happened. Funniest, most of it is stuff that's only funny in context.
and....drumroll please....the question Peyton hates to answer every day!
3.)  What were your most and least favorite moments today? I think you're right. Pey and I are very much alike. I hate these questions. My most favorite moment of the day was talking with friends and blogging 'n' all. My least favorite was now with Dad yelling at me to get off. Roar to him!!!   I'm rereading my journal as I did last night and I'm back at the part where the whole cutting drama started. I'm reading what I wrote and the comments that were left. It's recent enough that I remember how I felt then but far enough removed that I can read it and judge it fresh. Well, the poem I wrote The Dying Temptation , (which I just realized has a double meaning), is making me cry. My own poetry is making me cry months later. And now, I'm just laughing my butt off at the comment left about MM taking up a guitar, donning tight jeans, and singing while the cows stampede! Oh, by the way, if anyone read that Sunday Brunch about parents, yea, well, it's not me that was pregnant. It was the woman who writes the Sunday Brunch. Just realized that that bit isn't very clear in the entry. Oh, and sorry that I never got pictures of my pink hair. It came out like the next day. And my dad used the words "self-mutilation" the other day. Not in relation to me, as he doesn't know but, it freaked me out. Now that I'm into the far more recent stuff (about a month ago at the moment), it's harder to judge it from a distance but easier to remember. "Make our own fun and find laughter in the stars." There's something so poetic and awesome about that. "Writing what happened each day is easy but, how many of you would come back if this read, 'I got up. Dressed and brushed my teeth. School. Flunked the English test. Came home. Did homework. Watched TV. Got online. Lindz is sleeping over. Time for bed.'?" I've been thinking about this lately. I feel so guilty about it. I know a lot of people that do write about their day and if you do more than get up, go to school, do homework, watch TV and surf the net, it's far more interesting than this. My life, sad though it may be, is basically sitting around doing nothing of substance. For me, the drama in my life is my emotions. That's what I need to get out. I hope that I can come to a point where I don't have so much seriousness that needs to get out, that I can tell you about my day and have it be interesting. My dad doesn't understand how you all have become some of my closest friends. I know more about some of you and vice versa than some of my school friends. I talk about some of you. Lindz knows about ya. She reads it and when I'm at her house and I check my mail, if I have comments, either she reads 'em over my shoulder or I sometimes read them out loud. If I read it out, she asks, "Who wrote that?" and starts guessing. More often than not, she's write. I mean right. LOL I was talking to my mom about the whole not worrying thing. She said, "You can take a break from it for a while but you can't never worry again." I don't know what to think of that. I'm going to add to my journals section in a bit. Add in all the journals that I read regularly (and a few that I just don't have time to). When I was at the mall with Liz La and the girls, we all went into JCPenney's. I've been in there a billion times but, all I could think about was shopping with Liz W for Washington and for the formal. I nearly cried. "Memories/ good yet tainted by/memories/of her leaving/memories/should feel happy but/memories/cause my sadness" kept running through my head. Julia Butterfly Hill is my hero (as I said in that entry "Nails and abductions"). She spent two years in a redwood she named "Luna". She risked her life to save this tree (and those surrounding it). I think that is amazing. She spent 738 days living in Luna and would have lived there longer if it had been needed. That whole chivalry thing... so incredibly attractive. Peter (from one of my dreams and my English class) let me go ahead of him into class. I said, "Go ahead." and he insisted I go. How sweet. But, I'm torn again on the issue of him. I really don't know why. Not going into self-analysis tonight. No update on Bus Guy. Don't know anything new. I'll tell ya if anything happens. (He hasn't said word one to me since that day.) That video from Homecoming Weekend is no longer an issue. Lindz deleted it. And I was never actually with Jon. I just loved him. Well, it's time for beddy-bye (or at least to get off the computer). I'm going to my mom's after school. I'll be adding entries from yesterday tomorrow. Instead of doing my normal "umm...." thing in my weekend assignment, I'm going to write it in school which also gives me time to write it. Arrivederci to all. I will continue my response to entries past on Monday.

Love always,
Vickey