Friday, December 02, 2005



So, it is nights like tonight that I really wonder if something is off aobut me. I didn't have anything to do tonight, and I mentioned that to my roommate yesterday. She said she wasn't sure if she was going to have drinks with her classmates this afternoon (which they do every Friday), but she may or may not be free after.
She emailed me today at about 3, to say that she was going for drinks, but she would call me later. And then she never did. I feel all sorts of upset about it, like actually shaky. It isn't that she chose to hang out with them. I kind of could expect that, and it's fine. It is just that she didn't even bother to call. This is the same girl who threw a rant THIS WEEK about how she can't stand it when people say they will call you later, and then don't do so in a timely manner.
I can hear in my head how she would be if anyone treated her with such lack of respect, but somehow it is okay for her to do to me. And I sort of feel like that is the way that a lot of people feel about me, that they're allowed to treat me crappier than they would anyone else. So, I think I'm really just about to cry. Like, it seems like such this tiny thing, but I can't take it. I'm just hurting from sadness right now, or something.

Thursday, December 01, 2005



In a few short minutes, I will have been at work for 13 Goddamned hours.

That is way way way way too long.



So, I got my pictures from the last few weeks developed. Included in these pictures are those from the boy's birthday party. And while the pictures were being taken, I felt like they were going to be cool or nice, something I could stare at wistfully for hours or whatever.
And then I got them back.

One of them, in addition to the boy being half cut off (excellent photography by our very drunk friend), he is like totally turned away from me. In the other, his arm is around me, and I'm smiling like a fricking idiot, but he is leaning as far away from me as is humanly possible. I guess I was too drunk or blinded by his proximity to see the situation as it really existed at the time.
Just one more specific instance of the general stupidity that he has been provoking in me for the last 2 or 3 years. I'm so sad. I really hate it.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005



It's funny, when you have moments of clarity, how wrong you were for so long just stings so much. It's like, realizing the truth is painful enough, but you've got to go through the extra slam of how stupid you were for every minute up until that point. Which makes it hurt a thousand times worse.

I just don't want to hope for things anymore. It is better not to. There's like some incredibly stupid part of myself that keeps trying to, even though I know it is a bad idea.



I am in total can't eat, can't sleep, can't concentrate mode about the boy right now. Who is she? This fricking mystically fabulous girl capable of raising his interest. I have a few finalists, and I already hate them plenty, but I'm driving myself crazy. It's funny. He's dated other girls before, and once I am used to them, I'm okay. It is that first realization that there is a girl, one he likes, one he could potentially like better than me, that floors me each and every time. I hate it so much.
Crackhead thinks I just have a talent for following around boys who don't return my feelings. He compared my passion for unrequited love, lust or whatever to his own passion for playwriting. Which makes him a creative talented person and me a pathetic loser, I guess. Whatever. To each their own. We all need something to be about.
I'm sort of kidding there. I don't believe I love the boy just because I'm so pathetic. I really do believe he is the right boy for me, and I love him because of that. I just go about it in a pathetic manner.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005



My roommate was going on about her new boy. She's scared it will end, and she doesn't know when. Not necessarily today, or any time soon, but odds are that it will end eventually, and that idea is really upsetting her. And instead of being an understanding and good friend, I kind of flipped out on her.
I told her it made no sense not to enjoy what she has just because she might not have it forever. She asked me not to be so critical, but I just burst into tears and reminded her that I'd do just about anything to have 5 minutes of what she's got with her drum teacher with the boy I'm in love with. She says she knows, and she tries to remember that, but I don't think she really does.
I really would be so happy if I could just have him for the shortest time. Of course, I'd rather be with him like forever or whatever fairy tale measurement of time you prefer, but I'm so jealous of her five minutes that I could melt. Regardless of whether it works out for her or not, or how long it ends up lasting. I guess I'm a pretty crummy person.



He is checking his Myspace like literally every hour. There is only one explanation: there is a girl. It's the only possible reason.
I feel completely nauseous. I'm about to break into a cold sweat. There's a girl. There totally is.
I fucking hate him. God.



I watched Fat Girl last night. It was depressing as all holy hell, but I really liked it, despite the fact that I had already seen Sex is Comedy, which gave away a fair amount about this movie. (Breillat made Sex is Comedy about the hardships of filming the sex scenes in Fat Girl.)

The thing that fucks me up a bit is how much I get the motivations of the fat girl. She does some really strange and self-destructive stuff. And instead of being shocked or horrified at her, like I think is the intended reaction, what shocks and horrifies me is how much I can relate to what she feels and does.

Although, thinking about it, the kind of people who are drawn to this type of movie in the first place are likely to be the same type of people who will be able to relate to the little girl.

To prove I still have a bit of prude in me, I was a little upset that the 12 year old actress had fairly explicit sex and nude scenes. I'm not entirely unshockable.

Monday, November 28, 2005



Of course, he didn't call. I don't know why I expected otherwise. Sometimes my hopes are too high. I should know better. My stupid dentist should have given me some good kind of painkiller. Then I'd be able to be drowsy and not care so much. Instead, I'm all consumed and want to smash things.



I had emergency root canal today. Which is crappy because it is no fun and kind of painful, and also because it costs a ton of money. So I'm poor and sore and in a very bad mood.

I emailed the boy this afternoon and told him about my yucky day and that informed him that if his mother raised him right, he will call and check on me. We'll see if that happens. I'm not holding my breath.

Sunday, November 27, 2005



I have to admit, I really do like The Like. I know they are pretty much music for angsty teenage girls. Their lyrics aren't profound or even all that pretty. But as person who at heart is mostly a sad and unloved girl, I find it hard not to like a lot of their songs. Call it a guilty pleasure, I guess.

It somehow feels better to cry along with crappy sad songs than cry purely over what is going on in my life, if that makes any sense.



I can not get the boy out of my mind today. My roommate just finally had sex with the boy she likes, so she's all happy and on and on about it. This makes me want to go insane. When do I get what I want?

Plus, the Patriots lost to a team that isn't even all that good.



So, I wrote to the boy when I got home last night. I said:

i hope you aren't mad at me for being a big nag. but i'm not going to not care about you. sorry. that's life.

don't ever do coke again, or i will kick your ass. but also, don't do coke and then lie to me about it so i won't kick your ass, because i will eventually find out and kick your ass eight thousand times worse. but don't not do coke because you are afraid of an asskicking (though you should be very scared) but because you know it is a bad idea.
His reply:

Yes, mother. Thank you.

Isn't he so very funny?

My roommate says it isn't necessarily a bad sign, since people love their mothers. She isn't very funny, either.

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