The Journal

I guess since this is my first journal entry I should write about how my using got started. Well, I was downtown in Waupaca with a friend of mine who was smoking. They were cigarettes... not weed. So I asked him if I could have one, and he asked me if I was sure. I wanted to know what it was like... so I said I was sure. Then my friend showed me how to smoke, and I liked it. I like the taste and the buzz it gave me. I told my friend how much I liked the buzz, so he introduced me to pot. I loved it! After that I started experimenting on my own... seeing just how messed up I could get. Not only did I mess up my head and body, but I also messed up my life.

I am a Manic Depressant and a Bi-Polar Depressant. I inherited the Manic Depressantsy from my mom, and I inherited the bi-polar from my dad. When I'm not on my medication I'm depressed all the time. My medication keeps me extremely uppety most of the time. It's damn near impossible for me to get depressed while on my meds. This place has managed to make me depressed though. Just the thought that I'm here... missing everything that's going on outside the fence. I missed my prom. Do you know what that feels like?! I'm going to miss all the most important times of my high school years. These are supposed to be the best years of my life! And I'm missing them! I screwed up my whole life! I'm an alcoholic and an addict of drugs! Anything else you want to hear?! I'm a loser! My life sucks! I don't like my life! I don't like people! I don't like YOU! Don't feel bad, 'cuz I don't like ME either!

I was pretty much raised by babysitters. My mother was not capable of taking care of me, because she had problems of her own. My dad was never there for me, because he was always working or looking for someone to take care of me for when he was working. I was neglected as a child. I taught myself how to do a lot of things. Almost everything else I learned from books I read, or from people I did not know. I'm not asking for your pity. I don't want it. You can make whatever comments you want on this... I really don't care. I would have to say my earliest memory is of me handing some kleenex to my mom to wipe her tears away after my dad got done beating her. My next earliest memory would have to be when I was getting my stomache pumped after I overdosed on aspirin. I remember puking this black stuff up all over my stomache and all these doctors standing around me sticking needles in me, and they were attaching and detaching equipment to me. I think I almost died from that. I remember a time when my dad was working on his brown Toyota pickup truck from underneath. Somehow I had managed to get ahold of his keys, get into the truck, start it up, and take off while he was still underneath. I drove the truck straight into my neighbor's tree. I was three years old at the time. I also remember that when I was little I would bang my head on things whenever I got mad. It was my way of throwing a temper-tantrum. There was this one time, though, that I went outside onto the concrete step of my house and hit my head so hard on it that I knocked myself unconcious. From what my mom tells me I was rushed to the hospital in a helicopter. I did a lot of crazy shit when I was younger. One Friday when I was back in fourth grade I was racing home (my dad's home) so I could go to my mom's house (I only saw my mom every other weekend). I was crossing a street next to a merrimac. I saw the car coming, too. Stupid me thought I could make it across in time. I woke up on the curb.

I recieved two letters today. One letter from my mom and the other letter from my younger sister. My sister wrote to me that my girlfriend Chasidey called to see how I was doing, and that Chas loves me and misses me. She also wrote to me that Chas is starting to get mad because she's not getting any mail from me. My sister also wrote to me that my best friend Jason is doing really good. Jason was in a car accident with another friend of mine in the passenger seat. They were both drunk. Jason's left ribs all are broken, he has a broken leg, and his head is pretty banged up. My mom wrote me to tell me that she is working at a plant now (Wausau Papers). She is hoping to find a more permanent job somewhere. She wrote me that my littlest brother Brent is doing well in his karate class, and that he was asked to be on the "Black Belt Team" - only for students who are doing well in class, at home, and in school. Apparently she has met some guy who's name is "Wolf." Wolf showed my oldest younger brother Seth how to make a rocket with a soda can and firecrackers. He sounds pretty cool. Apparently my grandma and grandpa are still regusing to talk to my mom, because she dropped out of College to get a decent job to pay for the bills.

I miss her so much I literally hurt inside when I think about her. I'm scared to death of losing her. If I did... loser her... I don't know what I would do. I've known and loved her since I was about ten years old. From what she tells me she has loved me just as long. She's my sister's best friend's older sister. My sister and her best friend Sonya have been best friends since they were in kindegarten. Chas always had to be with Sonya to keep an eye on her... so I saw Chas all the time. Then my sister became really good friends with Chas... so I saw her ever MORE then. Me and Chas have never kissed or had any sexual contact. Our relationship is strictly love based.

I have always done pretty well in school, and I've always gotten along well with all my peers. I had a perfect attendance record for like eight years and straight A's up untill fourth grade where I got one "F". I got the "F" because I missed an important test while I was sick. I came back, though, and aced it. I started slipping up in fifth grade. I just got sick of being in school. I didn't actually start skipping school, though, untill eighth grade. It wasn't untill eighth grade that I had my first cigarette, too. I've had the respect of my classmates for as long as I have been in school (untill 10th grade). Even after I started using I was well respected. I was actually respected even MORE after I started using, because then I also had the respect of all my classmates that drank and did drugs.

When I was about twelve years old my dad got me this goal setting thing. It was titled "How to make your dreams come true... " It came with six tapes and a bunch of papers that I was supposed to write long term and short term goals on. I attempted it and didn't like it at all. In fact I never have liked setting goals, because then it makes everything I do feel limited. I hate having limits. During that same year my dad and step-mom bought me this desk/chair set and a drymarker board. They also bought me this big bulletin board. I used the desk a few times. I never used any of the other stuff. My step-mom was always writing me little notes on my dryboard, and leaving me little sticky notes all over my bulletin board. Another way for her to tell me what to do.

I don't understand this place. Everybody keeps telling me not to be honest and to just lie about everything. Everyone keeps saying that in order for me to make it through this program, or through ANY program in Lincoln Hills for that matter, I'm going to have to just tell you what you want to hear. What's really sadis that they're right... the only way I'm gonna make it out of here is if I learn to lie my ass off. Whenever I try to be honest in my goal work you won't accept it! What's wrong with the messege this is sending?! How does it feel to be a joke to everyone? (laughing)

Today I got to make a phone call to my mother. She told me that she keeps getting letters in the mail from Lincoln Hills Boys School asking her to come down and give somebody permission to place me in some independant study class for some reason. She also told me that she is going to try to come visit me this weekend. I'm really looking forward to seeing her and my brothers and sisters this weekend! She is also going to bring her new boyfriend Wolf to come visit me. I am looking forward to meeting him.

I remember when me and my dad still got along really well. Well, we still get along, but it's just not like it use to be. Ever since my step-mom Jean came into the picture my relationship with my dad has slowly gone downhill. One time we made this huge dune buggy and drove it around town. It was so much fun! Another time he made this giant sandbox for me, and then we made this huge sandcastle that was bigger than me! I remember when we would be driving around and then he would set me on his lap and let me steer while he did the petals. I've always been a good driver.

I never went to preschool, instead I was taught by my mom. I was reading chapter books before I was even in Kindegarten! At the age of five I had the educational skills of a second-grader. My dad has always known how smart I am. I remember when he got into a fight with my principle about letting me skip Kindegarten and going straight to first or second grade. After I started school, though, I also started going to the library. I went to the library a lot when I was younger. I would check out tons of books and teach myself in a couple days what they taught in school in a couple months. Do the math and you will have an idea of how intelligent I am. Trust me... I know more than you could imagine.

Hmmmm... I'm not really sure what to write right now. I got bunked with Canalis today. He seems alright. I am just waiting for him to get annoying. I don't really like him all that much, but that can change. I just got done writing my sister and my mom back. I will send one of their letters out tomarrow when I come out for snack and supplies. For snack tonight I had this ginger-tasting cookie with a glass of milk. Well, I should actually say a paper cup of milk. I talk to Mrs. Myers about how I am doing in the cottage and what I am going to do when I get out of here. She told me that when I first came here I was in complete denial of why I was here. I agree. I WAS in complete denial when I first came here. I lied to staff about my not knowing why I was in here, and I lied to myself. I am here because I have a drug problem. I am here because I was no longer in control of my life. I was out of control, and I want to be back IN control. I want to be able to make choices again. Choices about what I eat. Choices about where I go, what I do, and how I do it. I want to be able to go for walks again. I want my life back! I am scared to death of losing my girlfriend Chas. I don't know what I'd do without her. She keeps me from doing stupid things like drinking, using drugs, and getting into trouble. She makes me WANT to be sober! I love her more than life. I would die for her. Honestly... I would. I would do anything for her, and if it means doing all this work and getting through this program in order to get out of here and see her... I will. I am asking you now, though, to let me write to her so I will not lose her... so I will have something waiting for me that I will do any amount of work for. So I will WANT to do well and get through this program so I can go to see someone who means more to me than I do. Please... I can't afford to lose her.

I have been depressed all day. I don't know what else to write... so I am just going to throw in here something I wrote on sadness: Sadness is an emotion of such sorrow, despair, and depression. Sadness makes everything seem as black as a star and moonless midnight with an overcast of depression and thoughts of "Why?" and "What's the point?" Suicidal thoughts and despair fog over the mind with a desnity thick as milk and a black hole effect, consuming the light. With nothing escaping, it bottles up into almost mass like rather than thoughts invisible to the eye. Spiraling down a bottomless pit with the thought that I am never gonna get out and that I am gonna fall forever. Then a light of hope is visible below. Instead of falling down I am falling out, flying up into reality at neckbreaking speed. The world welcomes me back with handcuffs and a free ride to hell. Then a good push back into the hole. Such regret... such remorse.... all from acts of stupidity under intoxicated circumstances. Then comes the unbearable wishful thinking which brings such a sudden rush back into reality and realization of the situation I have gotten myself into. For what? Drugs... power... money... sex? No, it was for pleasure and a false sense of happiness which has otherwise been a rare emotion for me unless I was under the influence of some mood-altering chemical... like alcohol for example. Which is also the bringer of the dreaded hangover and a follower of excuses not to go to work. Or an unbearable mix of wake-n-baking under a hangover. Which brings those mornings of incredulous boredom and a deadness of the brain thinking thoughts of insanity and madness. Waves of heat flowing through my body. High... so very high. Then my mouth waters and I am hit with a wall of nausea so hard it makes me heave covering everything in front of me with last night's consumptions. I lean back and thoughts of pointlessness race through my head with throughts of hopelessness following right behind. My eyes glaze over and I break down crying wondering why I do this to myself... why I put myself through so much pain and suffering. Now I am disgusted and then utter sadness hits me again.

Today has been a pretty busy day. Right after breakfast I went to go back to sleep because the gym is closed, but I was called down to the school. Then I remembered that I had my IEP meeting this morning! So I quickly changed clothes and headed out the door toward the school. When I got there I was greeted by Mrs. Bahr and a psychologist. They told me that my dad was going to be ten minutes late. We walked over to communications and into a conference room off of where I normally go to for visits. We were sitting in there for a couple minutes when Mrs. Heimerhel (did I spell her name right?) showed up in the doorway and asked if the guy standing out in the visiting area was my dad. I went out there and brought him in to the conference room. Then we decided what I was going to do as far as education wise. I decided that I was going to pursue getting my HSED. Then we figured out the things that I needed to work on. The first one is focusing. I need to focus in class. The second one is liking success. For some reason I just do not like success... so I need to work on liking success. The third one is a problem I had when I was still on the outs. The third one was being sick. I would feel a little sick and convince myself that I was sick. I would convince myself that I was sick so well that I would actually become sick. I am a little confused on this one, but that is what my dad was saying. I then decided on what I wanted to do as far a career wise. I had a choice between Development (computer programming), Songwriting, writing, and network engineering. I chose development. We also talked about me choosing, or at least thinking about, which college I want to go to. One thing that was also talked about that I should do is writing letters to the owners of the cottages that were damaged, which I was involved with. My dad started talking about it before anyone could tell him that I did that regardless when I moved on to stage 5 or 6 and got involved in the V.I.P. program. He said that I could do it ahead anyways, but I don't think I'm going to because I need to focus on the stage I am currently on... not the stage I'll be on weeks from now.

Here is something on boredom I wrote: Boredom... scrupolous torture. Feeling the seconds pass by. Time going so slow I daydream whole lifetimes in a matter of minutes. Unbearable tension and impatience.... waiting to be free of this prison for the body. You can never imprison my mind, no matter how hard you try. Visions of the past float around in my head. Good times and bad reborn again behind my closed eyelids. Wishing I could relive the good times and change the bad. Missing my family and girl. Why? Why does this have to happen? In place of boredom depression comes out from hiding, showing it's saddening face in the moment it can do the most. Such regret... almost too much. The things I have done are not worth it... not at all. There's still a glimmer of hope in the distance. Hopefully someday I will reach it. Untill then I just sit here, making the most of what I can, and keeping my mind occupied so no depression can take hold. Yet it's hard... very hard, to wake up every morning to the same four white wals of this cell in my now so called "home" for the time being. Hopefully tomarrow will bring me freedom.

I have been thinking a little bit about going to the Youth Leadership Training Camp. I want to go to get out of here, and to get home faster to see me girlfriend and family. I do not want to go, though, because I want to graduate high school. I won't be able to do that on the "outs". I should probably start focusing on myself first, and start securing my future. I really want to go to college so I can get a good job and make something of my life, instead of throwing it all away by using and participating in criminal activity like I use to. I really need to get my shit straight and turn my life around before it is too late. I will turn my life around. I will successfully make it through this program. I will make something out of my life. I will continue to be optimistic as I am right now. I will focus on myself, and what I need to do to accomplish these things. I am not making any promises, for I cannot guarantee that I will accomplish any of these things. But I will give you my solemn oath that I will try my hardest to work at accomplishing these "goals" I have set for myself. I never liked setting goals before, but now I feel that I need to. I feel that in order to be the "responsible young man" that I wish to be, I am going to start having to set some goals for myself. I need to set some long-term goals and some short-term goals. I need to take it step-by-step... day-by-day, but still keeping "the big picture" in mind. I want to do some things that I can be proud about. I want to be able to look back at what I did and say "That was ME... I did that!" and feel good about it. I want to be able to WANT to go it again.

I took the test today (as you already know) and I am hoping that I got a 100% correct. I didn't study untill the last minute, though, so the only person I am going to be angry at is myself for not bothering to study. The reason I didn't bother to study is that even if I did pass the test I wouldn't advance this week, because I did not get all my goal work done in time. I got the Thinkin Errors packet done, but I could not get the Beliefs packet done.

I have been thinking lately about a little road trip I took last summer. It was just me, and I did it legally with my parent's consent. It was extremely fun, and I met a lot of really cool people. I did it by bus, in case you were wondering. I went all over the place from Chicago to Boston. The only thing I took with me was a duffel bag full of clothes, a backpack of clothes and other miscellaneous crap, my lucky zippo, three packs of Marlboro Milds, a half pack of Marlboro Medium 100s, and fifty dollars. Oh, I also had a poolstick with me... it was to return to my Uncle Mike in Littleton, NH. But basically I was just lugging around a duffel bag, a backpack, and a poolstick. The way I got it paid for is a little odd. I met this girl on the internet named Sophia Lepore (you're probably laughing now, or saying to yourself "oh my god"). Well, I got her to really like me and she wanted me to come see her. She lived in the same town as my Aunt Anne... so I made some arrangements to go stay with Anne while I was up there. Then Sophia offered to pay my fare to get up there and back, and I happily accepted. So I ended up bussing up to New Hampshire to see my Aunt and Uncle, and to meet this girl. The girl turned out to be... big. I'm not just talking fat... she benched over three hundred pounds! I saw her do it! She was just so muscularly huge with the body of a linebacker. She could take my head and pop it like a zit! Her arms were the width of my shoulders! She wasn't very attractive, though, and she had an incredibly low self-esteem. She was always whining about something, too. I loved her Boston accent, though.

I finally got an inhaler today after waiting for like a week for it to come in. Asthma... another reminder of what smoking too much of too many things can do to you, and also inhaling too much of too many different inhalents. I hate having asthma. I can't run like I used to be able to. I used to be on a track team, and I was really good! But I was smoking at the time, so I quit. I figured the coach would find out I was smoking and kick me off the team anyway. I was really pessimistic back then. Speaking of pessimistic, Gullings is starting to pick up the habit of looking at the positive side of things from me. Anyways, back when I quit the track team was when my manic depression first started to kick in. I was pessimistic about everything almost all the time. I was always depressed, too. I started to just give up on life, on school, and on myself. Nothing mattered to me anymore. I wasn't really there... my body was just going through the motions. I even gave up on Katie, a girl I had had a crush on for six years (from kindegarten to sixth grade). I wasn't in sixth grade at the time, though, I was in eighth. I first met Katie in Kindegarten. I didn't have a crush on her right away. I first had a crush on a girl named Tammy, but then I found out my best friend Tyler had her... so I decided to have a crush on Katie. I got into fights all the time sticking up for her. I am not really sure why I even had a crush on her... she was really mean to me. I guess it was because I found her really attractive. I even remember one day back in first grade when I had my really good friend David go ask her if she would marry me. She just smiled.

For some reason I can't get a hold of my mom. I've tried calling her as early as 5:00 p.m., but my little sister keeps saying she won't be home untill 11:00p.m. My mother failed to show up two weekends ago when she said she was going to. I figured maybe something came up and she would visit me the next weekend (last weekend), but she still did not show up. That "bummed" me out pretty bad, and not being able to get a hold of her, to see what was up with her never showing up, isn't helping the matter. I am thinking that if she's working a nine hour shift, like she usually is, she goes to work at 2:00p.m... so I would have to try to get a hold of her before that. Unfortunately I cannot make phone calls that early... so I am going to have to try reaching her though Mrs. Kappelusch. I know I should try to stay focused on myself, but I am a little worried that maybe something happened. As usual, curiosity is getting the best of me.

Well, Gullings got rolled out today for a few incidents. 1)Jerome Johnson and Veasley snitched on him for a picture he drew of a nude woman. 2) They also snitched on him for a J.P. he had from a magazine. 3) That "spit" incident that happened in class today. I would leave it at that, but I feel you must know what Gullings AND Jerome were doing. While you were not watching Jerome was poking him with his pen and "punching" him in the face. By "punching" Gullings, Jerome was placing his fist against Jerry's face and then pushing it forward. Granted, that's not that harmful, but it is still a form of punching (whish is BATTERY). I know it is none of my business, but I do not feel it is right that Gullings should have to sit in security and not Jerome... even though Jerome provoked it. I am not saying Gullings shouldn't have to sit in security, because he shouldn't have done what he did (and I brought him to realize this also). I AM saying, though, that Jerome should not be allowed to freely get away with what he did. And yes, I did see Jerome do those things... I just decided to mind my own business (as I usually tend to do).

Today has been a reasonably busy day for me. I woke up as usual from my door clicking at 6:30 for me to take my meds. I quickly put on my sweatpants and socks, and then I went out and told the med people that they've been giving me the wrong meds for the past couple mornings. Then I went back to my room, and pulled out my Algebra and Government homework. I did a couple lessons in Algebra, and finished a chapter in Government. Then I went and had breakfast. After breakfast I got my blue pants (which have been smelling like puke all week for some reason) and my short sleeved button-up shirt on, and I waited till I was called out for Voc. I went into my woodworking class and took out my derby car that I have been working on and worked the whole hour on sanding off all the layers of paint I had on it, and making it more aerodynamic. It looks really cool now! After woodworking I went up to the AODA room... only to find out that we didn't have class today. I was ALMOST looking forward to class today. After that DISSAPOINTING discovery I went back to the cottage and sat in my room for a little while. I was then called out to the lower day tables where I sat with Ives thinking of band names to add to my "101 top favorite bands" list. After that I was sent back to my room. I sat in there for a long time playing cards wondering when they were going to call me out for my other morning classes (I forgot about teentime). While I sat in my room I thought about what I was going to do when I got out of here as far as job wise. I decided that I was going to work the graveyard shift at the Cub Foods down the street from me, since I never sleep at night anyways when I am home. You are probably saying, "What about school?" Well, I do not plan on leaving here untill I earn my HSED... so I won't have any school when I get out. Then I heard Vandergeest call out low hall for lunch and figured out that I wasn't having morning classes today. I exercised while I waited to be called out for lunch. After lunch I helped in the kitchen with two guys who had almost no clue what they were doing. I think I accomplished quite a bit today. It's only like 3:30 right now.

Well, I finally got out of security. I was in security for four days... that is the shortest time I have been up there! It sucked more than usual this time, though. I could hardly get any sleep. Everyday was the same. Everyday I would wake-up to "In fron of your doors for breakfast!" Then I would eat, use the bathroom, and lay back down to go to sleep. Just as I am about to fall asleep the radio would blare on. I wold then roll over and attempt to sleep again. Then, just as I am about to fall asleep, the medication person would open my door and ask me if I wanted to take my meds. So I would take my medication, go back and lay down, and try once again to go back to sleep. Then.... my door would fly open just as i am about to fall asleep and somebody would tell me to "line-up in the lower day for P.T." I would then do exercises for half-an-hour. After P.T. I would return to my room and lay down. By then my heart is racing from P.T. and I would not be able to sleep... so I would read. I read many copies of Readers Digest wihle I was in security (Chief Joe). I also copied down a few things I found interesting. The first is as follows:

How much money do you have to have to be considered rich in today's society? Some say about $3.1 million per family. Some individuals have told me you should have unearned income of about $500,000 per year to be considered rich. But I keep thinking of how many people I know with far more than that who do not seem happy. On the other hand, I know many people who have trouble paying their bills yet are really well-off. If you can share any problem with your wife, you're rich. If you can face your parents and believe you have given back to them even a hint of what they gave you you're rich. If you can take an afternoon off to go boating with your pal, you're rich. If you can honestly say you have nothing to hide, you are really, really rich. - Benjamin J. Stein

This morning I watched a movie called 8 Seconds. The movie was about Lane Frost a rodeo bullrider that was world champion and was killed in 1989. A bull had punctured his left lung and killed him. During the movie it showed his full relationship with another rodeo star Kelly, but I forgot her last name. I thought it was beautiful how happy and in love they seemed. I would give anything in the world for that. It made me think of my girl Chas that is waiting on the outs for me. I got a little teary eyed near the end of the movie.

I have been talking to Ehlers quite a bit lately. We get along very well, and we have what we call "deep intellectual conversations." I also talked to Cross today and he told about how he finds it difficult to get close to people. I found it odd how he talked to me about this and nobody else. He was very serious and emotional, which is a side of him I had never seen before. I had told him to "float" around and talk to people, and to give people a chance before judging them. I also explained to him how everybody is cool in their own area... it's just a matter of getting to know the person to find that area. He seemed to take my information to the heart. I have been thinking... maybe I should become a psychologist, or a mental therapist of some kind. I do a pretty good job at it already. Now I have a choice between a writer, a computer technician, a computer programmer, a psychologist, or a teacher of some kind. Hmmm... why not just try them all? I am sure I could pull it off somehow. When it comes down to it, though, it is just a matter of getting out of here first.

You want to know how I felt while doing all those things I did? Honestly... I did not give a shit. You want to know what I thought? "Fuck it, I'm gonna die someday and none of this is ever going to matter." I had given up on life, and no longer cared about anything or anyone. There were times when I had started caring about someone (usually a girlfriend), and I then started to care about everything else again. My behavior would improve then, my grades would go up, I didn't do so much drugs (if any), and I was an all around "better person". I was happy and not depressed all the time. I found something in life worth living for: love. Then we'd break up, and I'd give up on everything again. My grades would drop, I'd start using again heavily, my behavior would be horrible, and I'd be depressed all the time.

Today I received a letter from my mom. She told me how last Monday 11th they had a really big storm that took down a bunch of trees. She also told me how the storm let down so much rain that it flooded my area. The water was about waist high all around my apartment. She told me hwo she watched a car just float down the road. She took pictures of some things, too. Apparently the storm flooded my room, too. My room was also filled up with backed-up septic! Yuck! She also told me how she had to throw away all my furniture, my extra stereos, and boxes of all kinds of stuff laying on the floor. She says my TV and my main stereo are alright, though. Thank god! All my movies were wrecked, though. That really sucks. I had sent her a copy of something I wrote. She really liked it. She said it was pretty "deep", and that I have a real talent for writing. She couldn't keep up with the rent and was late with it for the first time. She almost had to go to the Salvation Army for food, and to Leven (a financial aid place) to get money to help pay the rent. She really hates asking for help when it comes to that kind of stuff... so she didn't do either, but they made it just fine. She also sent me the newpaper clippings of when my friend Jason and Clint had a head-on collision with a semi. It was amazing that they lived through it! It put both of them in an intensive care unit. They just barely survived! But they're doing pretty good now, except for Clint who undertook a lot of brain damage... at least he's out of a colma now.

I didn't really do anything of any significance today. I've just been depressed and moody almost all day, and then a headache kicked in about 8:00 p.m. I really feel like crap right now, but I'm still busting my ass to get this done for tomarrow afternoon. After this is done I have to do my Alternative Goal Work. I am going to get it done for tomarrow morning, though. Even if I have to stay up ALL night doing it. My head is THROBBING. Oh, Ehlers rolled out today. It probably has something to do with him threatening Jerome Johnson. What you probably don't know, though, is that Jerome has been threatening Elliot before hand... so Elliot stuck up for himself by returning fire.