Saturday, September 24, 2005



I think maybe I don't show much of the good stuff about the boy I'm in love with here. And it's true that most of the time, we fight a lot. But I didn't just randomly select him as the boy I was going to be infatuated with. There are reasons I feel about him the way that I do.

When I first met him, three years ago, I think I was the only one of my female friends not to have a crush on him. He was nice enough and all, but I got the impression that he thought of himself as just a bit too cool and a bit too smart for us mere mortals, and that he wouldn't be a very good friend. And I was pretty much right about the first half, but he really proved me wrong on the second.

It took a long time before we were close friends, and somehow he eventually became like my best friend in a lot of ways. It totally surprised me at that time. And it just sort of grew, to us talking more or more, to wanting him to be the first person I talked to whenever something big happened, to just him being my favorite person in the world. But I guess it was when I started to feel more for him that things started to go bad. The fact that it surprised me that we are such good friends, became my doubting that he wants to be close to me. And so I get jealous and suspicious and possessive, but it's mostly because I'm scared of losing him. (I know, I know... I don't really have him for the losing.)

And there are good things that I'm scared of losing. He knows me, maybe better than anyone. He even knows when I'm pulling shit, and will call me on it. When I was really down about other things that were going on in my life a while ago, he would talk to me every day, for hours a day, even when I was a screaming crying wreck, because he knew that was what I needed. He can be just about the sweetest person in the world. And he's not the best person in some fundamental people-skills ways, but the thing is, I know what his shortcomings are, and I know I can deal with him. And I love him anyway.

The great thing, I guess, about our relationship has just been that we totally get each other. It's just that that ends up being kind of the terrible thing now, because what I get and he gets, is that we don't want the same things. So knowing what the other person means or what they're thinking or feeling, is knowing that it doesn't match up. So, we both act like we don't see it. And he lies about what he's doing. And I try to act like the things that bother me don't. But most of the time, neither of those things really work, and we fight all the time. Because EACH OF US want the other to care about us in a different way than they do.

And yeah, it makes me really really sad. But not in the same total devastation way that losing him altogether would, I guess. So, I take it. And I just keep surprising myself with how hard and long I'm willing to hold on. But... the alternative... I can't even think about, really.

Wow. I'm getting all kinds of emotional. I think I better give this up for now. I don't know if this is a better explanation. I just thought I would try.



"I'm trying to be open and honest with you. I'm sick of not doing that."

The words, in themselves, don't even sound so bad. Even in the situation that we were in at the moment, arguing about what to do after we got home from the movies last night, they're fairly innocuous. But I know us, and who we are, and what we do. If he ever called me out on how I feel about him, and how he doesn't feel about me, it'd all be over. Open and honest means over. So when he said this to me last night, I felt like I was going to faint. This cold numbness spread all over me and everything went black for a second. That's how I know I'm not ready for the end. By the time I gathered myself and got ready for impact, his desire to bust our friendship wide open had apparently passed and he backed off. And the rest of the night was okay. These moments, though, these little moments, they stick in my mind, because I know one of these days it's really going to happen. And I won't be ready. No matter how many times I tell myself it is inevitable or try to brace myself.

And I know where it came from, too. Before the movie started, there was an ad on the screen for Hotel Rwanda. He made some comment about how he had seen it recently, and it was so sad, he felt depressed for ten minutes. And I fell right into the trap, making some snide little comment about how impressive it was that he could show an emotion for ten whole minutes. And in retrospect, I'm pretty sure that was just what he wanted, so that he could add, "Well, there was someone in my bed with me." He kept talking after that, but I couldn't really hear for the next few minutes, so that while i attempted to act like I wasn't spiralling out of control, at the very least, he knew I wasn't paying attention. So, he got up to get a drink, and I managed to get my shit together enough to not turn and puke on him. But apparently he noticed.

So, today, which I need to be a very productive day, all I want to do is cry. And re-live the split second when I thought it was going to be over right now. I get that it's going to be over, sooner or later, that he's going to actually squash my dreams and cut me out, almost undoubtedly for what he will say is my own good. Is it so weird that I want to postpone that as long as possible, though?

How many people really want things that can be described with the words, "it's for your own good"? Not that very many, I think. You can't get to retrospect and reasonable until it's all said and done, and I'm not there yet.

Friday, September 23, 2005



He doesn't call or email for days.

When he finally does he accuses me of being too dependent on him for my happiness (which of course makes me colossally unhappy), and says he just isn't sure whether he wants to see me this weekend. He'll have to let me know.

He finally calls at 7 o'clock on a Friday night, and seems almost disappointed when I tell him I am in fact free to hang out. Then tells me the reason he is free tonight is because he is going to a show "with someone" tomorrow.

And here I am running around, trying to pretty up, because I'd given up hope I was going to see him tonight and my backup plan was to lie around and be depressed all night.

There's just nothing I won't take, I think. Go figure. I hold on with a grip like a vice, no matter how much he tries to shake free. I honestly don't even get it myself sometimes.


misdirect disconnect

It's weird that my anger at the boy I'm in love with (which I'll have to write about later... I'm still seething too much at the moment to try to put it into words) can totally get directed somewhere else. Namely my job.
Granted my job sucks plenty all on its own. But I'm currently filled with work-rage, itching to announce that I DON'T WANT TO WORK HERE ANYMORE and run out the door. And it's probably less than 33% about work.
It's mostly about my need to yell and make someone sad. My boss IS a major pain in the ass today, too, though. He's not making it easy to restrain myself.
We'll have to wait and see how it goes.

Thursday, September 22, 2005



I watch a lot of movies for money. I'm so sick of watching them lately. (They are, for the most part, depressingly bad.) So I find myself doing anything to put it off a little longer. That includes watching a lot more television than I normally do. However, I think I better give it up and get back to the crappy movies. Whatever nightmare of a movie I have in store for me, it can't be worse than Joey.



I know I've been listening to the same CD too much, when even after hours away from it, I can still hear it on pretty much a constant loop in my head. I usually only keep one CD at a time in my car, and I think it's been Heavenly VS. Satan for just a little too long now.
I do this a lot, when I get a new CD, play it over and over again until I don't even like it anymore. Then I stop listening to it for a few months, then do the same thing again.
I'm not a person who is great at moderation, I think.



So, I gave up wishing for my ATM number to magically reappear in my brain, and just went to the bank and re-set it.
This time, I got to choose my pin. And this is the kind of psycho I am. I chose a number related to the boy I'm in love with, but slightly off. That way, I know I'll remember it, since I'm super good at remembering everything about him, but just in case anyone figures out who I'm in love with, that I made my pin # about him, and which of his relevant numbers I used to make my pin, they still won't be able to break into my ATM card, because I changed it just a tiny bit. I'm sneaky.

The good thing is, I totally won't forget my ATM number anymore.
The bad thing is, whenever I'm angry or frustrated with him, which is a lot, just going to the atm machine or buying groceries will probably make me sadder.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005



I just got back from seeing Thumbsucker. It was one of those movies that I feel like I've been waiting forever for, like the trailers and the ads were just taunting me with how made for me this movie was.
And it wasn't a bad movie. Parts of it were even pretty cool. But it didn't move me at all. It was clever at times, and the lead kid was really amazing (I so would have had a crush on him if this movie came out when I was a teenager), but it just left me entirely cold. And I guess that's the problem. I wouldn't be so bummed out right now if the movie were just not that good. Because most movies are crap, and I like a lot of them anyway. But I was expecting this movie to touch me, and it just didn't. I think that's worse disappointment than going to a movie hoping to be entertained and ending up watching something that's just shite.
Which is funny, because I'm pretty sure that the filmmakers were more into making a generally good movie rather than making one that I in particular would connect to. Maybe sometimes I set unfair expectations. And then resent whoever or whatever doesn't live up to them. Even if it's just a little indie film that I really like the posters for.



I work for a very old man. He's close to eighty. And increasingly over the year I've worked in the office, I've noticed his increasing forgetfulness and confusion. As horrible as it is to admit, my co-workers and I tend to joke about it. Though, in our defense, I think we often do so to avoid doing him harm in our annoyance and frustration.
Because I'm his actual assistant, I get it more than most. And I try so hard not to let it drive me crazy. Now I'm catching it my own damned self. I blame him.



Last night, on the way home, I stop at the drive-through ATM to deposit my paycheck. I'm at the machine, my finger hovering above the little keypad to enter my Pin Number... and my mind goes blank. I try a few things that sound like they might be right, but no dice.
So, not so upsetting, I guess. I figure I'm having a momentary lapse, and I'll just go deposit the damned thing the next morning. If I relax about it, the number will just pop back into my brain.
Cut to this morning, when I still have no fricking clue what the damned thing is. I have had that Pin for years. I use it at least 10 times a week. And it's just gone. It flew out of my head, for what looks like forever.
Aren't I too young to start being senile? It's a little scary.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005



The boy I'm in love with says that he doesn't feel anything, that he's just like a robot.
He went on for an hour last night, explaining how a person can exist without feelings, and refuting all of my evidence that he does care about people and things.
Then, when I really started to get upset, he sighed and said, "Oh come on. You know I'm just fucking with you."
And I do know that. Sort of. But, the thing is, he was actually more convincing when he was saying that he doesn't care then when he was saying that he does. I'd say something to him, but he'd just get mad at me and tell me I can't take a joke.



I'm not the kind of person who is made to work 12 hour days. I'm just too delicate... and too antsy. However, here I am, more than 8 hours in, and no end in sight. Well, it might be in sight, but it's only like an itty bitty speck in the distance.
We didn't get the call about this after-hours conference until this morning, and I already had plans for the night, but... again, here I am.
My boss was a total jerk about my planned trip to the dentist yesterday, but said nothing when one of my coworkers decided not to come in until 11:30 today, and another decided not to come in at all. So, I'm really in no mood to work free overtime for him.
It's against company policy to ever say no to a job, no matter what time it is set to take place. But, I learned fast that no matter what time the conference was set for, it was going to be me who would have to come in and do it, even if the job is after midnight and working it means walking on dark city streets and hanging out in an entirely abandoned office building until the customer shows. That's totally safe, right?

But, as much as I'd love to stick it to my boss, be out having fun, and just say no to the customer, I couldn't do it. Because I knew if I said no, it wouldn't get done, and the customer is a charity who is letting a dying little kid meet his or her favorite celebrity. I'd have to be kind of a monster to say no, just because I'm sick of my job. It kind of worries me how long I considered doing just that before I came to this conclusion, though. So, I feel kinda like a good person, but I'm just hanging on by a thread.



You know how when you remember bad things happening, it always seems like the room or place where you were was ominously dark? And probably, it really wasn't, but the darkness of the memory you're having paints the physical setting along with it.
Well, I guess I started being cognizant of that from an early age, but didn't entirely know how to deal with it. So, when the world was darker, the sky was grayer, I'd always involuntarily brace myself for what bad things were going to happen. And sometimes they would, but most of the time, I'd be worrying myself for nothing.
It's raining today in L.A., where it almost never rains. And I just kind of noticed that I feel anxious and worried about what bad things are going to happen, even moreso than usual. I guess some habits stay with you, even when you should have outgrown them long ago.

Monday, September 19, 2005



My roommate is speaking to me again, and I'm trying not to piss her off, but she doesn't always make it easy. We went to Whole Foods for snacks, and on the way back, I mentioned something about this blog (which she knows exists, but is not allowed to read). And she says, "I really just don't GET blogs. I mean, I have a journal. That's what normal people do. I think the only people who have blogs are those who are pleased with themselves, and want to show off to their friends how clever they are." And I just stood there, because what could I say.
After a few minutes, she looks at me and adds, "except yours, of course."

Oh right, of course.



I got an email from my roommate today, so I guess she's not mad at me anymore. The need of someone to send pointless emails back and forth with over a long and boring workday may have something to do with it, but I'm not about to question it.
And Alex says I should't worry about last night. (Though really I'm determined to find someone to make it up to him, so he better just get used to it. Stubborn when it suits me, remember??)
So, that just leaves the boy I'm in love with, who continues not to talk to me. And the thing is, while I feel like he's not calling or talking to me out of anger or annoyance, there's every chance he just doesn't feel like it. So, I'm probably speeding my ulcer's progression for nothing. (Though the fact that he doesn't care enough to talk to me makes me plenty ill in its own way.)



So, it would appear that I was being overly optimistic when I said the boy I'm in love with isn't mad at me.
His "no, i'm not mad at you" was really one of those ones that means "yes, I am mad at you, but don't want to discuss it." I receive subtlety about as well as I transmit it, which is to say, not very well at all.
That doesn't make me very happy. I'm about to go to the dentist for a crown. The way things are shaping up, that may be the highlight of my day.

Sunday, September 18, 2005



I clearly need one. A muzzle. I went out to dinner with my friend Alex, who rocks a million ways from Sunday, for HIS BIRTHDAY, and I screwed it up badly. I know I joke about being tactless, but I don't really mean to be. And tonight I clearly was.
I was supposed to be taking him out to have fun, and instead I whined about my own life, bitched about how crummy MY friends are, and told him things I damned well shouldn't have told him. That must have been just the most fabulous birthday present ever. Ha.
I'm going to demand a do-over, so that I can try again to be the good and normal friend that Alex deserves, but that's not really the same, now is it? So, I'm pretty sad that I suck so bad. And Alex was too nice to point out how much I suck, since that is the kind of good person he is.

I'm crummy.



None of the right football teams won today, so I'm a little down. That most especially applies to my dear Patriots who got beat by the nasty Carolina Panthers. I overslept and missed the beginning of the game. By the time I woke up, they were already down by a lot, and though they valiantly attempted a comeback, they couldn't quite make it happen. I blame myself. If I was a better fan and got up for the game (which was actually even on TV!!), they wouldn't have fallen behind. They are so good to me, they deserve better. I guess I'm as much a disappointment as anyone else.
So, sorry, Patriots. I'll do better next week.



Happily, it would appear that the boy I'm in love with isn't mad at me for getting drunk, losing my keys, getting drunker, hitting him in the face, and then putting a comment on his myspace page about how nice it is that he doesn't get mad when you hit him in the face. He's a pretty forgiving guy sometimes.
I obviously was a bit on the intoxicated side last night, so much so that after getting home and sending the drunk email that I decided I would definitely be hungover if I went to bed right away, so I should stay up, have a snack and read for a while. Apparently a made it through about a chapter of When We Were Orphans. Unfortunately, I don't remember it at all, but what are you going to do.
When I finally did fall asleep, I had totally off the wall drunk dreams. I don't remember them all, but the one that was most vivid was of waking up in the middle of the night and finding this middle-aged guy and his son stealing all of our stuff. Unlike the usual hiding and cowering that I would do in reality, I ran out at him and yelled and screamed, but surprisingly enough, that did not deter him from continuing to steal all of our stuff.
I locked myself in my room and called 911, all in a panic about what was going on, and instead of being sympathetic to my plight, the 911 operator was quite dismissive, telling me I was ridiculous to be so upset when the guy was obviously just down-on-his-luck and trying to make ends meet, and that he wouldn't do anything violent when his son was right there. And I just started screaming about how the 911 operator better send someone right now. At which he told me he was just doing his job, and it wasn't his job to get yelled at, and hung up on me. So no one was on my side, and no one would help me. Pretty much typical of the dreams I have, just an exciting new variation on the theme.



I could write about how my night was, but I think the email I just sent to the boy I'm in love with should illustrate it better than I could.


i am very sorry i hit you in the face. i did not mean to do such a thing. i only meant to hit you to express my anger at your turning into a jerkface, which i think you, in the sober light of day, will admit you did. but i didn't mean to hit your face and hope i didn't bruise it.

i am drunk and tired and wish you were nicer to me. perhaps this should be a lesson for the both of us. for you, be nicer. for me, have better aim.

love always.


There should probably be some device or system that does not allow me access to the internet when I am drunk.

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