Ugh, sometimes I'm not that bright. All of a sudden, I started feeling not so good in my tummy. Yeah, that's because I bought sugar free cough drops and have been eating them constantly. Sugar free candy stuff always makes me ill! Der.

I would like to hear what's up with sara's friends now.

sumi, I almost ffwd through that scene. I had to stop it at various points. AWFUL. Realistic, but uhg.

I gotta say, I'm tickled pink by my friend's 15 y.o. stepson's rushed goodbyes because she wasn't home and South Park was on: "OK, Love you bunches Sara, bye!"

How often do you get a 15 year old boy in the throughs of teenage whackoness saying that to his stepmom's good friend? Yeah, I bought him a primo skateboard and safety gear, but that was 2 years ago! And he's had seriously insane attachement issues. This wasn't rote, this was sincere and makes me so happy for him and how much he's gained.

Oh good, I'm glad I wasn't the only one. And yet, I don't think that Riggins was devastated . . . if he had been likely to feel that way -- he wouldn't have said it, you know?

When 15 year old boys like me...well, it's not love, usually.

Am in the throes of a major migraine without pain. I am beyond irritated with it, but it's too late to get a sub for tonight's class, so it's me or bust. If I'm lucky, it'll be passovered out.

I was an angelic kid in comparison to any of the bust ups referred to here--actually, perhaps not a pleasing kid, not one you show off to your friends, but my worst issues were reading too much.

Which made my mother think of me as antisocial, something she believed way into my 20s. Not sure how much of my university "socialising" she really wanted to hear about.

I would like to hear what's up with sara's friends now.

Well, they are neat and awesome people and I'm really really lucky to be able call them friends and it just bowls me over they call me friend too. As for placenta-freakout causing friend, that's all good too, just not what I was fed at the time. And um, I've realized how freaking reticent I can be. So much so that when I do reach out, it causes...um, not consternation, but...um. Something. I'm stunned by the reactions of concern for me and those I call mine.

Honestly, I'm probably more forthright about my emotional state in the semi-anonymous online world than I am in meatspace (outside my family.) Which is all kinds of fucked up, but anywho.

Well, they are neat and awesome people and I'm really really lucky to be able call them friends and it just bowls me over they call me friend too.

You're a noodle.

Which is all kinds of fucked up, but anywho.

Eh. Just because we don't know where you live it doesn't mean we don't count.

But more seriously--friends fall into different categories all the time. Sometimes you can draw other lines around them and say "online friends get this, out of town friends get that" but I don't think it's fucked up if you are being honest with yourself about it. Because those lines are pretty much coincidental for me. The important categorisation is how I am with them, not where they are (or their gender or whatever other demographic slots you're looking to fill).

For my mom, I was an easy kid. Sure, around 15 there was a set-to in which she declared she loved me, but she didn't really like me right now ( basically, I was being an irrational bitch from hell.) I tore up a lovely admiring note she'd sent me earlier, and then taped it back together in a fit of apology later. I still have it. The whole like and love thing has stuck with me in a very good way. It was a good lesson.

Poor dad, nsm. I wasn't the terror my brother was to both of them, but I seriously hurt him on numerous occasions.

Oh good, I'm glad I wasn't the only one.

Oh no. Loved that. And, no he wasn't devastated. Just didn't understand why no one thought it was funny.

And Poor Tim! He so doesn't want to abandon Bo, being abandoned himself, but knows mom's right. Gah.

Love. This. Show.

I was NOT an easy kid on many levels but on other levels, I had a perfection issue that made me easy too.

I miss Tivo.