diary entry one
((Veronica's diary is on paper, in a black leatherbound blank book with "Veronica's Diary" embossed on the front cover, natch. The writing on the inside is loopy and... somewhat legible, as it's Veronica's natural handwriting. There are also bits of Veronica's practicing at copying other people's handwriting interspersed with her diary entries. The entries from the film are in this same volume, and there are a few in-between the time of the film and this one. All the entries are dated. There is no lock on the book, so anyone who can get into Veronica's room and read it can find out pretty much exactly what she's thinking and feeling at any time. It is NOT accessable by computer. That's all. :3))
Dear Diary,
I always thought that the only way I'd ever really get away from my parents was by either going to college in Antarctica or getting committed, of course after JD, prison became an option too. But ever since I found this place, it's been like one of those dreams where you know you're dreaming, so you're just having the time of your life. Okay, maybe it's not that orgasmic, but it sure as hell isn't Mom's pate and Heather Duke's bulimia.
So far avoiding not-exploded-JD has proven mostly successful. He doesn't know I'm staying at the Lounge, so I'm safe, so far. I can't help feeling like maybe I'll need some protection though. I know JD has at least one gun. Is it bad I want one too? Then at least I'll feel a little less at his mercy when I see him around, damn him.
I keep running into guys that look the same. The first one was this drunken hobo or something named Jack. He smelled like he was keeping rotting meat in his hair for safekeeping. Then his brother Sands showed up. He said something about Jack being "special", and then he gave me a cigarette. We talked-- he's decent. I actually like talking to him, as bizarre and obtuse as that sounds. I told him about JD and he barely blinked. He shot his ex, he said. I barely blinked. I almost spilled the beans about Heather and Kurt and Ram, but I managed to lie at the last second. God, I'm such a shit liar. He'll find out eventually if I keep talking to him, I can't keep my mouth shut forever. He wanted to know about the handwriting, too. It's weird, though, flirting with someone so much older. Not that he isn't hot, even without eyes, but I'd never really thought about anyone over eighteen being attractive for their intelligence... mostly because I've never met anyone over eighteen that actually IS intelligent before. But this guy is smart, if a little cracked, and he's asked me to do something, I mean actually something, not just getting slushies or boning in the backseat of his Pinto. I guess older guys are just mostly past that shit.
Anyway, the other guy that looks the same, I met when I moved in. His name is Sam, and he's quiet and a little weird, but he's nice enough, and he has good taste in hats. Sands says he tries to avoid him, and I can understand why-- it's like looking into a negative of yourself or something for him. The guy looks just like him, only maybe ten years younger, and he acts totally opposite. Sam took me to meet the Lounge's owner, Bigsby. The guy is polite, but real creepy. Gotta keep an eye on that guy, he seems like he's not telling everything. Like I'm shocked.
Last thought of the day, though-- Sands mentioned that "girls like me made him who he is today". I wonder if he thinks I'm just another filthy rich popular high-school slut. Well, you'd better damn well believe that I'm going to do everything I can to make sure I'll NEVER BE A HEATHER AGAIN.
...short of killing people, I mean.
Dear Diary,
I always thought that the only way I'd ever really get away from my parents was by either going to college in Antarctica or getting committed, of course after JD, prison became an option too. But ever since I found this place, it's been like one of those dreams where you know you're dreaming, so you're just having the time of your life. Okay, maybe it's not that orgasmic, but it sure as hell isn't Mom's pate and Heather Duke's bulimia.
So far avoiding not-exploded-JD has proven mostly successful. He doesn't know I'm staying at the Lounge, so I'm safe, so far. I can't help feeling like maybe I'll need some protection though. I know JD has at least one gun. Is it bad I want one too? Then at least I'll feel a little less at his mercy when I see him around, damn him.
I keep running into guys that look the same. The first one was this drunken hobo or something named Jack. He smelled like he was keeping rotting meat in his hair for safekeeping. Then his brother Sands showed up. He said something about Jack being "special", and then he gave me a cigarette. We talked-- he's decent. I actually like talking to him, as bizarre and obtuse as that sounds. I told him about JD and he barely blinked. He shot his ex, he said. I barely blinked. I almost spilled the beans about Heather and Kurt and Ram, but I managed to lie at the last second. God, I'm such a shit liar. He'll find out eventually if I keep talking to him, I can't keep my mouth shut forever. He wanted to know about the handwriting, too. It's weird, though, flirting with someone so much older. Not that he isn't hot, even without eyes, but I'd never really thought about anyone over eighteen being attractive for their intelligence... mostly because I've never met anyone over eighteen that actually IS intelligent before. But this guy is smart, if a little cracked, and he's asked me to do something, I mean actually something, not just getting slushies or boning in the backseat of his Pinto. I guess older guys are just mostly past that shit.
Anyway, the other guy that looks the same, I met when I moved in. His name is Sam, and he's quiet and a little weird, but he's nice enough, and he has good taste in hats. Sands says he tries to avoid him, and I can understand why-- it's like looking into a negative of yourself or something for him. The guy looks just like him, only maybe ten years younger, and he acts totally opposite. Sam took me to meet the Lounge's owner, Bigsby. The guy is polite, but real creepy. Gotta keep an eye on that guy, he seems like he's not telling everything. Like I'm shocked.
Last thought of the day, though-- Sands mentioned that "girls like me made him who he is today". I wonder if he thinks I'm just another filthy rich popular high-school slut. Well, you'd better damn well believe that I'm going to do everything I can to make sure I'll NEVER BE A HEATHER AGAIN.
...short of killing people, I mean.