A conundrum: It is just after one in the morning. I have to be awake and fully functional in six hours. Instead of being a good girl and going night-night, I am sitting in front of this screen with my fingers tapping out letters. Why is this?

Anyway, today was a weird day.

I tried to get my brother to take me to the beach so I could jump in the water and let the sun sink into my blood. I only needed a few minutes of this. Then we could leave and he could go about doing whatever it is he does with his friends. I'm sure there's usually drinking and fire involved but who am I to ask questions? Just take me to the fucking beach and I'll buy you a Push-Pop.

Except he didn't and now I'm sad.

Instead we went grocery shopping for my grandfather again, because the last time I got him all the wrong things and he was hungry. When we got to his house, he was sitting on the front porch, drunk, and not wearing any pants. Then he spent ten minutes demanding that we give him back the .38 my mom took while he was in the hospital. Yeah, that's a grand idea, Dzidzai. You and a gun. Shit.

He also kept calling me Mamita and Mamita, Molly. Mamita is his dog.

I really wanted to go to the fucking beach, man.

So now I'm tired, but not sleepy and sad, but not crying.

Do you think I should cut off all my hair and give myself some bangs? I haven't had bangs since I was six and I think it would be a nice change. It would probably look like shit, but you really can't except your hair to look good when you cut it yourself while, more often than not, drunk. Oh, wait a second. Ha ha. Most of you don't even know what I look like. My bad. You can still tell me whether or not I should butcher my hair. I'll consider anything, really.

I need change and/or action.

My little brother told me today that all these kids worshipped me and "(my) group" back in high school. I'm like "What the fuck for? We didn't do anything." Which is true, unless you consider standing around looking all fly and shit while doped up on psych drugs "doing something."

I'm kidding. We never looked fly.

Anyway, he said it was because we were rebellious and all these kids looked up to us. I still find this to be total bullshit because the most rebellious thing we did was yell "Fuck Reagan!" as we drove out of the parking lot every day and that was barely revolutionary in 1984, let alone 1999.

I don't know. This interests me because I never knew anyone noticed us and I definitely never knew that people actually held positive opinions of us. It's weird, the things you find out years after you get out of high school.

Anyway, I do need to get to bed. My 400th entry is coming up soon and I think I've got a plan. Kinda, sorta. I'm writing something out about freedom of speech and I'll probably just use the 400th mark as an excuse to post it here. I know, I know. That sucks and where's the fun? Whatever. If you have any ideas on what I should do, let me know.

OK, goodnight.

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