mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bold The new kids in apartment number 9 are thwarting my plans for the morning, damnit. I think they somehow knew that I was going to take LaVerne out, and check my mail, and start up the big, white Beast, and all in my heart-covered boxer shorts and ripped up thermal t-shirt. They decided to squash my aspirations by inviting 757,488,009 teenaged guys over to hang around outside on lawn chairs at 5am. Stupid boys. Stupid kids. Last week, I was walking LaVerne around the back of the building (we have a little, dog-poop filled "yard" over there) and I noticed that somebody had busted out a bedroom window and left the glass strewn all over the place. Those kids, man, those kids. Ah, jeez- It just occurred to me that if I hate teenagers this much now, I'm probably going to turn into my Grandpa when I'm old- Chasing kids off of my grass with my fist raised, rolled up newspaper being waved threateningly. Shee-it. I wrote something in my paper journal last night, about how I develop huge crushes on people that I don't even really know based on what I think they might be like. Like, I'll spend a tiny bit of time with a person, and, based on the way they acted around me, I'll make up an entire personality and history for them. And then I go nuts over the person I've imagined- And I know, I know, it's not fair to anybody, and it's childish- and somebody (mostly me) always ends up getting hurt. I did that with Ozzy, I think. I saw that he was quiet and sensitive, and I watched the way he interacts with other people, and I kinda just filled in the blanks by myself. Anyhow, as I writing it, I was listening to this song that Matt and Ozzy put on my computer- There's a part of the song where the music stops, everyone stops playing, and you hear somebody take a long, shaky breath (I listened to that part over and over again, yesterday)- and just after that part, one second after, the phone rang. It was Ozzy, calling to see if Jon (who had been at my house earlier on) had left to meet him yet. I said yeah, blah blah, about ten minutes ago, and I was ready to say goodbye and get back to my writing, when Ozzy asked, "So, what did you do today?" I was kind of taken aback- I was expecting him to hang up and get back to whatever he had been doing before- but I answered, and he responded to the things I said, and after I hung up, I kind of smiled. "See, Angela, that's why you like him." That's what I thought, I thought, "This is why I like Ozzy." It's the little things, the way he seems to care about... Everyone. I'm going to stop talking about this crush business, at least everywhere outside of here. There's so much more to Ozzy- To everybody- than what I've let myself believe. I'm going to get to know people, really know them, and then decide. I'm also going to remember what Jon said the other day, his favorite cliche: "Fortune favors the bold." 6:34 a.m. - 2003-06-29 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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