Generation one: Part two: A Romantic Interest

I never knew there were so many horrible people in the world. Mother, for one. What in the world posessed her to have children? Then there's Stanze. I believe her to be cheating on Sarah, and Sarah's either ignoring it, in denial, or just doesn't know.

I brought that up because I got robbed last night. The bastard took the book the publishing company had sent to me last week.

Tom and I are getting along nicely, I think this might work out very well for my future. He's very sweet. Sometimes I can't help but stare into his eyes for what seems like forever. That little adrenaline rush when he calls me gets stronger every time, and never fails.

I'm starting to like weekends. Work is like a reminder of highschool. Go figure.

Tom decided he wanted to see my place. When he asked if he could stop by, automatically it was "Yes!" and then I got scared. I just said he could see my place. My mess.

He sat on my couch.
"So this is your place," he said, looking around. I was much too scared to say anything. "It's no wonder you were so quiet about it. Did you really think I would judge you because of it?"

That surprised me. I looked up. We had only met a week ago, but he made my body tingle. This was more tingly than usual.

"Come here," he told me. I sat next to him on the couch, and he put his arm around me.

I was so nervous and stunned. I did what I saw most girls do in those romantic films. I leaned my head on his shoulder. Damn, this was great. My heart was racing and my face was hot.

"I really like you. You know that?" He said out of nowhere.

"I," I cleared my throat, "I like... you too... Alot." I am so weak. That was so lame.

Then I noticed the ring. How could I have not noticed it before? He's married? I've been flirting with a married man?

Of course, if he's cheating on her, he may not even love her. Or maybe he has only lust for me. I like the first option.

"I have to get home, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

If he got a divorce to be with me, would he cheat on me, too?

"Leja?"

Or is it because he likes me more?

"You okay?"

"Huh?" I didn't even realize he was talking to me. Aquarius, the deep thinker. Sometimes it's not all that great.

"I'm going to go home now."

"Oh. Uh... Okay." I must have had an extremely confused look. He stood there and regarded me for a few seconds, and walked away.

Dear diary,


He's married, but he's always on my mind. I've worked so hard at getting him to like me, and then I find this out. I'm just so confused. Hopefully I work myself out over the weekend.


Give me a hint, please teach me a lesson on how to steal a heart as fast as you stole mine. 


I also learned he is rather inappropriate.


-Leja

Generation one: Part one: A sweet transition

What does a lonely person with no people skills or any plans do over a two day vacation? She either works on her new drama novel Mr. Right or looks for Mr. Right.

Mr. Right, I choose you! Er... I think I'll just hang out here in the library.

Mom, I admit it. The bad-girl stuff does teach you something. It teaches you how to deal with people. It also teaches you who is actually able to deal with people, and it is apparent that I cannot.

I have no idea what I'm doing here. Three guys, all approachable, and I'm chickening out. But one of them could be the "one." I have to try.

Alright. Blue shirt.

"Uhmm... Hi." Oh goodness, that sounded horribly weak. It's getting crowded and I'm getting sweaty.

"Hey, I'm Tom... Tom Shallow." Well, if that wasn't James Bond-sounding, I don't know what is.

"I'm new around Riverview. I was just hoping to meet some folks. Around town. You know, to... Get ..." I hope I have enough breath to keep talking, or I might have to run back to my territory.

Luckily, he started talking again. I decided I liked his voice. "That's alright, you're not bothering anyone, I'm just here with some of my family. I don't really read much. Where do you happen to live around here?"

Shit. Not that question. He had to go there. "Oh, around."

"Like, around... Where?" He had the cutest little smirk.

"Just. Uhh... Riverblossom Drive, I think it's called. I'm not sure." Keep him from seeing your mess, that's good, you go girl.

"That rich people neighborhood?" Now he just looked confused. I know I must look way too hookerish to even begin to live there.

"Well, maybe it's a road connected there, I don't really have my address memorized. I've been here about a week and--"

"Slow down, it's alright. How about you come over to my place sometime? I'd like some company," he said, slipping me a piece of paper with his address on it.

I was stunned. For me to have connected with someone so effing quickly was completely unusual for me. Of course, I just stood there staring at him blankly. I then realized I was staring and shook myself from it. "Er... Yeah! That'd be great."

Just then, my stomach growled. Fuck my life. Back to my place.


Dear diary,


Mom was right about a few things. One: the people skills. Two: I'm epically useless when it comes to love. I swear I will raise my kids right. Better than her, anyway. 
I have learned that along with some unnatural force called luck, and with my own willpower I must make my life happen, I can't just sit back and wait for it to happen. 
You stood tall, like you'd won some kind of award, but really I've never seen someone so short. To mom.
-Leja

**This post is for Mike, because he didn't want to stop reading. I spent the extra hour typing this just for him. (I love you Mike.)**Also, the end of the diary entry are a variation of lyrics from Hey Monday. I am a huge fan.**

Generation one: Part one: Leja's a Winner; Sort of

The only thing I hate more than people are idiotic people. Take, for example, my boss. She constantly complains about how nothing gets done. It's funny, though, how she sits in her office talking on the phone. That image has been set in my mind since day one, he just lounging in her overpriced rolling chair with her feet propped up on her desk, "blah-blah-blahing" away on the phone. She gives no instructions, doesn't mind what's going on and just signs away on contracts, but she has the audacity to complain that nothing gets done?

Someday, I, or my future family (with the man of my dreams) will own that hospital, and I will have my revenge.



Dear mom,
Why?

I feel really good about today, though. I'm not tired at all, I smell good, and I think I'll make it to lunch before my stomach starts hurting. In fact, I can't wait 'til work starts! I can't even explain why, I'm just in a great mood today. Paycheck, here I come!

So it wasn't a totally great day... I came home way too stressed for my liking. The good thing is I came home to a sweet surprise in my mailbox.

The publishing company sent me a complementary copy of my book.


Dear diary,


Today, I came to a brand new, definitely different realization: Not all things in life are bad. The publishing company is great. 
I don't think anything could beat meeting the perfect guy, though. In fact, I met a very nice guy on the net a few days ago. He seemed so nice, and I felt a strong connection. 
That connection must have been the internet, because he mentioned a wife. 
I can't blame that on my mom, though. Oh, right, I'm houseless, and I live in a dump. Thanks, mom. Love you, too. 


-Leja

Generation one: Part one: Leja confiding in herself.

Have you ever felt like you were being watched? I've felt that way for a while. Ever since I found my little spot here, I have felt like my neighbors watch me constantly. It, of course, doesn't help that my neighbors are all rich airheads, and my area looks like a dump. Thanks mom.

I have found that one of my favorite spots in this place, though, is the Wright Reading Room. I can just sit and read or write, and let the rest of the world just fade away. I even met two very nice women there: Sarah Sigler and Stanze Brown. Well, Sarah's nice. Stanze doesn't like me much, but Sarah and I seem to be becoming fast friends.

Of course, in the middle of writing I get called into work, and it's a long day of bed pan cleaning and toilet scrubbing for low pay. Gross. Someday soon I will be a famous writer, and will have found that perfect guy for me, and this life will be in the past. Take that, sissy!

I have to keep reminding myself, though, that it could be worse. I could be injured in the hospital with no insurance, and no one to take care of me. Then again, I don't have insurance anyway. Or, I could be dead... But sometimes I feel like that would be better than where I am now.


Dear diary, 
I finally pulled the money together to get a bed. Now hopefully my back won't be so achy, and maybe I'll be able to sleep a full night. My friends Stanze and Sarah, I have found out recently, are lesbians. At least I know Sarah is, but Stanze... I'm not so sure. She seems too out there to stay loyal to anyone. Possibly bi. I could be wrong, I mean, I am only an outside onlooker. 
I hate my job at the hospital. It's so effing crowded. I just want to sit at the library and write, but who can do that on an empty stomach, right? 
I'll pull it together someday.
-Leja

Generation one: Part one: Leja Daring at her worst.

So this is how it begins. Mom raises me to be what she could never be, had always wanted to be, fails at it, dies, and leaves all of her belongings to my sister, her all-time favorite celebrity. Whilst she sits around in her luxury home enjoying dishes of lobster and caviar, and counting her hundreds of thousands of simoleons, I sleep on a couch behind a wall as the only privacy I have. I have no name for my sister, I have lost it, as she seems to have lost all thought of me.


But when you fall off your horse, you have to get right back on it, lest you be on the ground forever. So I picked myself up and got a job at the hospital. It's not horrible. It definitely could be worse, as it pays 22 simoleons an hour and gives a lunch break. I still have that lingering problem, though, that the nearest public area with a toilet and a shower is across town, the public pool.

Although the pay is nice, the hospital is also a minor setback. It takes away from my time at the Wright Reading Room, practicing my writing skill and attempting to write novels. My dream, one day, is to become a professional author. I've always loved reading books, but I've always wanted to change them and make my own story. Hopefully I can earn enough money soon to get my own utilities and a computer. Maybe I'll find the right guy as well. Give me a break, oh, great Creator, where ever or what ever you may be.