No offense but Canada sucks. Why can't they use normal zipcodes??? I got stuck with data entry today somehow and all mine are in Canada. They have to use numbers AND letters? Why???...I am not bitter. I am not bitter. I am not bitter. Plus my tab button isn't working for some reason and IT guys are MIA. Sigh...

I have decided that beeping things should be hit upon or smashed or thrown in a drawer and muffled by clothing if they do not stop beeping. Recently the beeping things have taken over my life and sanity. My car beeps about 10 times when I get in if I do not immediatly put my seat belt on. It isn't that I don't like wearing a seat belt but I hate being mothered by my car. My new phone beeps excrutiatingly loud whenever I replace it back on the receiver, which I believe as of yet after a few hours of reading instruction books can not be set differently. This beep serves no purpose whatsoever other than to frighten me each time it happens since I never expect it. And damn my alarm...it beeps every morning. This reminds me of the Friends episode where Phoebe and her smoke alarm get into a fight.

I was going to establish a token phrase for myself, thinking that "Get out of town" was amusing. Then I remembered that Balki Bartokomous on Perfect Strangers used to say, "Oh get out of the city!" That will be my new recycled token phrase because I find it funny.

Last night I was an official rebel. While rollerblading around the boy and I spied a pool and hot tub in a nice gated apartment complex and started drooling over how nice it would be to go in the spa that night. So we hatched an evil plan. We started out as small time rebels and went across the street from my house. The boy is tall enough to hang on the fence and reach in the tubey thing to keep out trespassers and open it anyway. The place was in ghettopartments but was secluded and surrounded by bushes. The problem was that the luke warm water was just not nice enuogh and wouldn't hear up after 30 minutes. We got up our ganas and went back to the nice place. We waited in my getaway spymobile and finally a few cars went into the gate and we followed. We parked in a guest spot and hiked over to the pool area. This gate was super short for us midgets and easy to open. The spa was nice and toasty. A little too toasty if you ask me. But it was nice and we didnt get caught. We went back to the car to sorta strip and change so as not to soak the spymobile's seats but some dumb lady was trying to get her dog to shite outside and we couldn't bear cold naked body parts to her...so my car suffered a tad. All in all I am a hot tubbing rebel.

Funny side bit. The boy has a BAD MOTHER FUCKER wallet like the one in Pulp Fiction and it is leather. He somehow forgot it was in his pocket and drenched it. He then wrapped all cards money and wallet in seperate napkins in my car to dry. After I dropped him off I got a frantic call on my cell that his wallet was gone and must be in my car. Nope. So he went outside and looked and scattered all over the street and somehow untouched were napkins, cards, money and a soggy wallet. I surpressed laughter and seriously told him, "You might want to get a wallet that says STUPID MOTHER FUCKER." Am I not clever?

My hobbit name is Lobelia Gamwich of the Bree Gamwiches.

I am feeling sad...and tired...and useless. Sitting here is not good for me today. I don't like feeling infinately drained. Like someone bottled up the essence of me and drank it, stole it away in the night. Perhaps I just need to get more sleep.

O my weekend...notice the new pattern of O my openings in my entries. So Hearts in Atlantis made me turn into a sappy crying young woman with puffy eyes three...count three times. Yes it was touching and heart wrenching and very good. Better than Green Mile, but it was sorta slow in parts, but worth seeing. Afterwards bickering and misunderstandings ensued. Thou shalt not mention it since I am trying to make things better with the boy. I scored cheap ass rollerblades that are the snap style I wanted that they no longer make so somehow I got them for $20. That was cool. My dad decided that leaving my other semi new blades in my car after the accident to be towed to the junkyard was a good idea. Heaven forbid he have to bring them home to me along with my freshly purchased speakers that were not harmed in the accident either. Now the junkyard children are skating around on my skates with bumping tunes coming from my wrecked ass car. A junkyard party due to my bad driving. So I had to spend money I didn't need to but the sale softens the blow.

I went to Santa Cruz to see my best friend ever and she yelled at me! For the first time in our 12 year friendship she screamed and made me want to crawl under a rock and cry. I don't think she realized how deeply disturbing this was to me. I tried to put unneeded pasta down at Cost Plus and since her sister works there she screamed with angry eyes(like Mr Potato Head in Toy Story 2), " Go put that back where it belongs right now! This is where my sister works!" I seriously was expecting her to breathe fire on me and turn into a dragon. She apologized and said she shouldn't have gotten that angry but she has never treated me that way and over that??? Mental note: Pasta goes back on the right shelf...OR ELSE! And to aforementioned best friend...when I come to visit you, as much as I love your friends and family, I am selfish and want a full day of just spending time with you and not with everyone else. I hardly ever get to see you and it sucks. I realize sunday is your family day but if I only see you once a month or once every two months I sorta want more quality time of gossip and catching up and...what would you do if I pushed you in the ocean type moments...However yesterday was good for shopping. The shopping angels flew over me and guided me to un-needed shoes that I can't live without. So 2 new shoes now sit in my closet, along with the other much needed I-can-not-bear-to-throw-any-away 60 pairs: A fatty pair of black sneaker shoes with little flames (sugar style...by volatile) and a pair of comfy white slip on rocketdog sneaker shoes. Hail to the shoe gods. I also got 2 pretty girly pictures at Cost Plus for my plain white boring bathroom. One has a girl with fairies at her feet and the other is a vintagey looking girl sitting in a circle and doing something vintagey that I can't recall right now. Yay for decorating my bathroom! I didn't find anything at Ross though which hardly ever happens. I think the screaming fit I endured ruined my shopping capablities.

O my god of pathetically sad entertainment for (british?) people. I was cruising around the web looking for that website with the dancing hampsters because I remember it sent me into hysteric giggles for some reason yet to be determined. So I found it and they had a new video which I could not resist. It had real people! Real people dancing in the most embarassing ways to the cheesiest song. You have got to see this because it is like nothing else I have seen and it cracks me up. Am I deluded or what? My link thing won't work so you are stuck with copy/paste. http://hampsterdance2.com/singvid.ram

I am an incredible girl genius. I must admit that I know nothing of html and templates, which can never be repeated that there is something I don't know. But I digress, the point is I figured out Reblogger! After 1 hour and 53 minutes of confusion and finding out no one in my office knows html save for the IT guy who is missing, I Amber Rae figured out how to put that damn script thing in my template. It only took like a billion tries. I got the comments but lost my writing or it left weird javascript on my page. So now it works and I even changed the link text. I am so so smart today....I am so smrt, I am so smrt...S-M-R-T...I mean S-M-A-R-T.

So I went to Mcwhorters which was out of business for a month and totally emptied out and now a month later is back in full stock. These scary office supply stores are very indecisive. Anyway I went there on a break to force myself to take a break from work and I got the perfect refridgerator decoration. It is this cat on its hindlegs with little black dominatrix boots and a corset and a whip with a bad ass kitty attitude all over it. So i figure it was so random and cheesy that the roomies would be amused. Interesting conversation with the boy which is forcing me to write about and now I feel like he told me to so I am rather than out of inspiration but it is on my mind. So boy you have been acknowledged. Oh yeah and you exist. And I like you so get over it and tune in for better topic discussions about you. Almost time to be off work...well a half hour early like normal since I don't take a lunch and could get majorly busted but sigh I am bad. I have been trying to read more at work when I have time but alas I am a blog addict now and have to look at pages to see if people funnier than me have updated. Oh and then I look at other stuff like Rotten and College humor and all kinds of messed up stuff that entertains me and distracts me from being bored which I still am so it doesn't really matter. So I am trying to read this book about Mustang Ranch the brothel in Nevada (whore house for us unedjamucated people). I guess this lady got permission after 3 or 4 years of begging to go inside and do a study. It was supposed to be on safe sex and condoms to tell the world since the hookers could be so safe that we should take tips from them. You think I am not serious? I am. But I barely started reading it and it is sorta interesting and a brave step for me to read non-fiction. I ate way too many goldfish today and am feeling very listless and unmotivated. Can not seem to remember I lost Live Thru This in my car accident and I want to rebuy it at Rasputins but I always forget. And I once claimed it was the album I could not live without. Ironic since it has been months since it died in the crash and I barely noticed it is missing. This is the omnipotent sign I was looking for that I have too many CDs and must admit I am a junkie. Must go to anonymous meetings at a later date for new/old/unrealized addiction. EEEEEWWWWWWWWW. I just got an email from program manager who is going to be out of town and I was all gleeful. Now he sends and email list of 85 companies to research while he is gone. Somehow my other co-workers get 60 or 50 and I get freakin 85? Where is the justice in this system? I do more work to look good and brown nose and secure my job and get rewarded with more work...sigh...and I read a disturbing qoute today. "Life is not fair but life is not fair to everyone. Thus life is fair." Or something like that...Can I not complain and whine and not be taunted back by sayings from anonymous people? At least it is time to go. Small justice for lunchless losers exists.

Today I am going to try my darndest to be more like me. I am not sure exactly how one accomplishes this but I used to be funny. Well I still am, but just less funny. I saw this girl the other day who was being a better me than me and I just can't be having that. I mean I don't want to have to try really hard but I need to let me be me more so me isn't neglected and I don't forget how to be me. Ok enough confusion. Let me take a minute and try to explain who me is. Me is Miss Amber Rae. I like to read, Bridget Jones style books are my taste as of late. I like to write this mushy gushy depressing stuff as noted from previous entries. I like to rollerblade and hike and cry over nature and how purty it is. I like to go to Toys R Us and oogle over the new toys and then complain that they still aren't up to par with strawberry shortcake and my little pony and care bears. I like to go the beach and jump in the water and catch crabs...not down there, but the ones on the rocks...oh you know what I mean, and act like a boy...cuz tomboys are best sometimes. I like to turn up my music in the car really loud and bang on the steering wheel like drums and sing and make a spectacle of myself. I do the shameful pointing finger thing with the music in some mock attempt of John Travoltaism boogeying down. I like dying my hair bright colors and pretending I am cute enough to be a cartoon, a 4th member of Power Puff girls. I like watching Disney movies and listening to Portishead and Mazzy Star and crying and getting all sentimental. I like seeing little kids act all cute and say silly things. Little kids crack me up...this is our future and I remain so hopeful when I see them in their childlike innocence. The monster whining children at Walmart have got to go though. I walk with my head tilted to one side when I am nervous or self-conscious...I am not too proud or thrilled about this head lolling but what can I do... I like sparkle eyes every day, not just for the club and I secretly tingle inside when people call me sparkles or sparkle girl. Kiddo remains my all time favorite term to be called though. I like being a smartass and doing that sort of flirting with people. Not really flirting in an "I want you" sense or anything...but just bantering back and forth with guys and gals from work or stores or wherever my smart ass strikes. I am the nicest meanest person you will ever meet. See when I meet people I am a smartass and tease them and some people who have no sense of humor think this is mean. However those of us cool smartass types know this is a smartasses way of saying hi and getting comfortable. If I don't tease you be afraid, be very afraid. So once I get to know them and all that I am still a smartass but I am a very sweet natured kinda gal who wants people to like her. Anywho I am still working on me. This is brief parts of me. But alas the wretched bosses at work might actually appreciate me doing some work today. The nerve. If they only knew I was on the road to self discovery.

Funny how the things that I used to like, I just don't anymore. Like someone wiped the dust from the window and holy pink pigs flying I can now see out the window! You mean that was all I had to do all this time? And I sat there for so long looking out and imagining a surreal little picket fence world. I don't want surreal anymore. I want reality. Sweet compassionate caring reality. Not idealized dreams of a silly girl who liked to like things that were bad for her. I am learning that I like being happy and being around people who dust me in fairy dust and make me feel like I can fly. Like some twisted spin off of Peter Pan I feel like jumping off my bed in my nightie, spreading my arms and feeling that weightlessness for a split second. That childlike bliss of floating, and all that deluded time I thought I wanted to sink below the waters, thought it would make me happier to surround myself with someone who I couldn't seem to work it out with. Time after time the self proclaimed fixer would fail and she finally realized that in looking for things that don't need fixing she could be so much happier. That she would be rewarded with golden sparkling powder that could make her fly. She doesn't ever want to drown again.

Darling give me your absence tonight. My dreams are fading. My faith is my light. The darkness draws near in my grey whirlwind of fears. The thought of alone is my most terrifying fright. I've searced for the answers. I've crawled toward the sun, and the voices I turn to leave me staring at no one. So I lie in a pit in the bottom of my mind, numb of feelings and hungry for time. My nightmares, like demons, cling to my skin, and these pings of envy leave me sensitive and thin. A transparent shadow, a wisp of a girl, a remniscent lover whose sanity unfurls. I reach for my darling, but I've sent him away. And for once in my life I regret I didn't stay.

Days like this I don't know what to do with myself. Dreams can be deceiving, like faces are two hearts, they search for sweet relieving, when fantasy...and reality...lie too far apart. So I stretch myself across like a bridge, and I pull you to the edge. I stand there waiting, trying to attain the end to satisfy the story. ~Fiona

Broken girl, you break yourself more and more each day. Regrets. I feel so alone the more I am surrounded. I keep wishing and hoping for some force to intervene and revive me. Someone to breathe the life into me and create me. I am seeking, always scanning but unaware, unable to see as fog clouds my vision. I try to cry. I try to feel something. I feel weak. I feel...despair. This is not what I was looking for. Fix me now.

So she told me I had Amber Oomph. That I am not useless and I am not losing myself in the abyss. The trick is wholeheartedly believing her. The taste of gray that lingers on my tongue will fade. The limitations, my body's ability to trap me within it. All these things will soon be broken---my revenge against...myself? Against something rather. I know at times I have a needed a good kickstart to get myself going. I need someone to tell me I can't in order to make the "can" happen. Defiance doesn't run deep in my blood, but there is a small strain of stubborness that survives and thrives in times such as this. Times where I came so close to losing it all, and now I am realizing I want it all back more than ever. How important it all was. How blind I was to take it for granted. I foreshadowed this I suppose...thinking about how I'd be so happy if I lost it all...then got it back. The getting it back part is the hard stuff. I never thought I'd have to earn what I had from birth. I never thought I'd have to earn back love from myself and others. I never thought I'd have this much confusion regarding roles and relationships. And somehow, presented with all this time to think...I am getting so much more expanse in my views. I lose myself in thoughts like I never thought I could. While my body has taken a break (literally has broken) my mind has massively produced these swirling clouds of questions and dreams that have been hovering constantly. I want to answer them myself...to try to understand what I want and why. Isn't so easy. It's slowly coming...and I am willing to wait. Allowing myself to be patient which is becoming a well trained habit for me lately. I just rely on that time old saying...could have been worse...oops :) I mean things happen for a reason.

The depression I fall into when I write feel so good sometimes. I feel like I have misplaced so many things that are important to me. And now by my own fault I have to cope with the loss. Things I wish I could regain but yet I know my only friend is that which I despise. Slow time. Sands falling in slow motion in an hourglass that tempts me to shatter it. To spill the grains out into my own hand. Give me back control of all the things that slipped away. Feeling my mistakes burn into my skin. Branding me for life to bear the weight of regret. The "If onlys" taunt me with every thought. The way I look at myself in the mirror lately seems to bear a mocking reflection staring back. Like the other part of me and the world who got inside laughs at my misfortune. Tells me I deserved it. "I told you so Amber." This is what you get. This will turn you into the bitch that lurks inside. This is going to eat you up internally, slowing latching its greedy fingers around your mind. Make you feel the unbearable tension and bitterness that you have harbored for so long. And I cry...I cry so much. I cry for who I am becoming. I pray for what I was. I long for what used to be. I long for normalacy and happiness. I long for the right thing. I long for the wisdom to know what I have done and how to fix it. I am tired of life. Or at least I am tired of the recent past and no yearn for some way to grab the upper hand. I want to hold dreams in my fist and fulfill my insatiable desires that have been stolen away. I want the ice to numb me...smother my flames and heartache...take away my relationship with pity and mold me into someone else.

Oh my......talk about changes......car spinning.....something smashed....sirens and then the limitation of not being able to do anything for myself. So how much do I appreciate life now? 2 more long months to go to regain my freedoms and normal life. I never thought anything would be this hard. To break down in tears because I can not do things for myself. Didn't they know I hate asking for help? Why would they make me this way. I always believed everything happens for a reason, but on this one I am still struggling to figure out what I am to learn of this. I suppose I have always had a respect for life. But it is more so now....especially now that I can't get down and dirty and have sex...but seriously I thought I had been through enough with dysfunctional families and such...I suppose my toll has yet to be paid for some reason. I just know that I am frustrated and not making the best of this time I have on my hands. I finally moved away from my parents, established myself as an individual human being, and someone deemed it fit to take that away. Ok so I must be bitter. I feel like I am sick of myself, and the constant babying from people who nag and have made me a helpless child in my own home. It is this feeling though that my own company isn't enough. It is rather disturbing I guess, feeling trapped in myself. I mean I have always liked who I am. It is just that being forced to sit with my thoughts more than usual makes me question more and more who I am which I avoid many times.

Losing touch. Being consumed. I feel like I got my hands on the map but I can't find my compass. Torn into pieces lately by emotions, emotions I haven't had to deal with before. Keep analyzing and overanalyzing, trying to make sense in a senseless box I am trapped in. As if I can be my own therapist. Like I can pay myself in some sick circle of justifications for actions. I really don't understand, although I think I do, a confusing statement in itself. I just feel like I am not fully feeling lately. That I need to turn myself inside out for myself. To remember what I have within me. I forget sometimes, on purpose I think because no one would say ignorance is bliss if it wasn't. There are truths out there that people ignore, simple things that we don't want to see. Sometimes because it isn't what we want to hear, sometimes because it is what we want to hear. In either case looking away and finding meaning in the meaningless, whatever form it takes is so much easier. Take for instance how I try to reflect right now in a sad procrastination attempt. Although is it really procrastinating? Isn't the reflecting what I have been procrastinating? Even now I let it out in little bursts so as to relieve it. Tiny releases of pressure so as to avoid the big one, the mindshattering earthquake that would leave me only with myself, looking in the mirror and not sure I would be all too pleased with myself looking back at me. It is easier this way to tell myself I did think about it. I did my part, payed my penance to me. But the girl in the mirror has not yet received what I owe to her. I don't really know how to go about paying her back or how to move forward with her. I need to take some measures to grow up, while carefully keeping my eye on the line. The grown up line. The line that once you cross you can't really come back. When you are GROWN and have stopped being. The GROWN people live in this land where all is consumed by money and routine. Get up, go to work, come home, go to bed. REPEAT. REPEAT. And so on til they physically die. The growing stages of life have ended and they have died. The body just keeps following the routine because it is all it knows. So please, girl in the mirror I beg you. Help me to grow and become who I need to be at this point in my life. I am going to be out there on my own, with my mirror, trying to make sense of it all it this so called real world I keep hearing about. I promise to acknowledge you and let you be. I am just so scared and your smooth glass embrace has yet to comfort me.

So one day I realized I had found myself, but wasn't quite sure what I found. Counting down to buy, to live, to love, to learn, to leave, to die. And I don't want to live life counting, granted it is okay once in awhile. But I don't want to spend my entire life counting and neglecting the things that aren't associated with counting. I can't be sure what those things are at this point, since everything has become a counting goal. Example: I will be happy when I live on my own. I will be happy when I finish school. I will be happy when I find my soulmate. I will be happy when I am happy. Why can't I just be happy now? It is a wonderful thing to have goals and things to look forward to. But sometimes just waking up and knowing I am alive should be reason enough to be happy. If I lost everything I had right now, I would be so sad. But if I got it all back imagine how ecstatic I would be. I want to be that way now.