2007-11-10
217 aspen lane
My real name is Elizabeth. That's important, somehow. We are not just who we present ourselves as, there is more there. I'm also Elizabeth.
Yesterday my mom sent me flowers. They meant more coming from her, I think, than they ever could have meant coming from some boy. I don't know why that is, but when I saw her name on the card it just made me so happy.
I want to be friends with Pete. I want to show him my Escher posters and I want to watch a movie with him and talk about nothing important.
Last night I dreamt about my old house. I lived on Aspen Lane from third grade to tenth grade. The architecture of it is mapped in my mind. The green front door, the titles with mushrooms on them above the stove, the color of the carpet in my parents' bedroom. That house was perfect for our family. I wish we could live there again and Edward could come home for Christmas.
I think I knew Danny and I were over a week before when we were laying on my bed, looking out the window. I pointed to the tree outside and asked him if sometime he would climb up it and wave at me in my bedroom and he said no it would be too hard because there aren't any lower branches. And plus I think he just didn't want to. And it was like well I don't really want to be in a romantic relationship with someone who's not willing to climb up a tree for me.
Mike is good to me. I value our friendship. I should send him a postcard from Montana. Him and Jean. And send Megan a letter. Letter-writing is a talent. I'm thinking about important letters that have been written throughout time, like soldiers home to their lovers, or immigrants back to their families across the ocean. It's a real skill to be able to write about your life down on paper, to express it to someone else and say it like they would experience it if they were here with you, because you wish they were. Wish you were here, you end the letter.
There is a blue leaf taped to my window. It got spray-painted on.
I love Troy Bolton. Which is a joke but not really. bye now.
leesah-likes at 1:43 p.m.