14 July 2007
♥ same old, same old.
The flowers on my nightstand are thoroughly dead. I guess it's for the best; it was getting harder and harder to look and them and feel okay about it. I was getting more and more upset at the fact that the person who gave them to me really only wanted to keep me around long enough to reassure them that everything was okay. I'm good enough to be your confidante, but where are you when I need you? Why am I not good enough to be your friend? I guess I'm trustworthy enough to share that side of you with, but I get the feeling you're not telling many others--the one person I'm most jealous of, for example. I kind of feel like that should tell you something.
My new friend did exactly what I knew he would; it was only a matter of time. After all, at some point I guess I had to figure out that all boys really are the same. Why should this one be any different? I still haven't learned my lesson: I'm just as naive today as I was on day one. I shouldn't be surprised, but for some reason, I am. I'm not waiting around this time, though. That's all I've done for almost five months now--with or without reason, I've been waiting around and hoping there would be a change in the winds and I'd end up with some not-so-rotten luck. I'm already hung up enough on one person; the last thing I need is another hopelessly uphill battle. This isn't worth it. Not for anyone.
I haven't seen my best friend in nearly a week, because my stupid family happened to be in town for the one week her two favorite people weren't. I guess I missed my chance... Special thanks for this one to little Ivancito, who insisted on his last visit that his mother make him waffles at eleven o'clock at night. This child is six years old and still wears diapers during the day, and I promise you it's not because he has some kind of disability that prevents him from, say, being potty trained. (My obnoxious doberman was potty trained by the time he was like 4 months old, for Christ's sake.) In any case, I realize our relationship (that with aforementioned best friend, not with Ivan) is somewhat strained anyway because of this whole court proceeding thing, but I don't want it to end here. Remember what happened last year? Marc and I swore we wouldn't let our friendship be torn apart after what we'd been through together, and yet here we are. It took nearly year to repair the damage, and even now it's not entirely comfortable. Is that what's going to happen to us? Because I don't want it to, but I feel like you're drifting further away every day.
My psychotic parents are in a complete frenzy because I left my car in the King's parking lot last night. My mother marched into my neighbor's house, where I happen to be housesitting, around eight this morning (consider that it's summer and I won't get up before nine or ten unless the earth is falling apart or there's some other very important reason) yelling "Not cool!" I'm guessing she managed to get my dad all riled up too, because now they're saying that my "driving priveleges are probably going to be severely restricted for awhile because of my careless and irresponsible choice." I mean, the fact that the parking lot is well-lit, supervised by survelliance cameras, and in a nice part of suburban Arvada is completely beside the point. It also totally doesn't matter that nothing was missing, damaged, or in any way changed on my car. What are the car theives even going to steal, anyway? The empty Snapple bottle? The week-old volunteer t-shirt? Maybe I'm just not in the right mindset, but I feel pretty confident that's not the kind of merchandise they're looking for. And anyway, King Soopers is open 24 hours, meaning that the people who work overnight shifts leave their cars there... overnight. Point taken?
My extended essay was due over two weeks ago and I just can't seem to make any kind of coherent progress. Every time I think I should work on it, I freak out. I can't focus. Dropping IB looks good for awhile, then the guilt sets in.
I hate my manager. He's completely pretentious in every way and I've never been more patronized by anyone in my entire life. Also, he wears this stupid Tabasco tie that makes me want to throw up every time I see it. And if you come in like 2 seconds early from your buggy shift (swear to God, the clock above the service desk said I was a minute and a half into Duncan's shift), he yells at you and makes you go back out there. Call me crazy, but sometimes clocks have their second hands in slightly different places. How about chill the fuck out.
I know, I know, at least I'm not a starving African AIDS orphan. At least I'm not being shot to death in Darfur and I don't have to wear a Burka in Iran. At least I'm not a tsunami or hurricane victim, at least I have a place to live, blah blah blah. I get that. Yes. I'm grateful for all the positive things in my life, okay? All in all, I just really needed to vent. I feel ever so much better now.
My new friend did exactly what I knew he would; it was only a matter of time. After all, at some point I guess I had to figure out that all boys really are the same. Why should this one be any different? I still haven't learned my lesson: I'm just as naive today as I was on day one. I shouldn't be surprised, but for some reason, I am. I'm not waiting around this time, though. That's all I've done for almost five months now--with or without reason, I've been waiting around and hoping there would be a change in the winds and I'd end up with some not-so-rotten luck. I'm already hung up enough on one person; the last thing I need is another hopelessly uphill battle. This isn't worth it. Not for anyone.
I haven't seen my best friend in nearly a week, because my stupid family happened to be in town for the one week her two favorite people weren't. I guess I missed my chance... Special thanks for this one to little Ivancito, who insisted on his last visit that his mother make him waffles at eleven o'clock at night. This child is six years old and still wears diapers during the day, and I promise you it's not because he has some kind of disability that prevents him from, say, being potty trained. (My obnoxious doberman was potty trained by the time he was like 4 months old, for Christ's sake.) In any case, I realize our relationship (that with aforementioned best friend, not with Ivan) is somewhat strained anyway because of this whole court proceeding thing, but I don't want it to end here. Remember what happened last year? Marc and I swore we wouldn't let our friendship be torn apart after what we'd been through together, and yet here we are. It took nearly year to repair the damage, and even now it's not entirely comfortable. Is that what's going to happen to us? Because I don't want it to, but I feel like you're drifting further away every day.
My psychotic parents are in a complete frenzy because I left my car in the King's parking lot last night. My mother marched into my neighbor's house, where I happen to be housesitting, around eight this morning (consider that it's summer and I won't get up before nine or ten unless the earth is falling apart or there's some other very important reason) yelling "Not cool!" I'm guessing she managed to get my dad all riled up too, because now they're saying that my "driving priveleges are probably going to be severely restricted for awhile because of my careless and irresponsible choice." I mean, the fact that the parking lot is well-lit, supervised by survelliance cameras, and in a nice part of suburban Arvada is completely beside the point. It also totally doesn't matter that nothing was missing, damaged, or in any way changed on my car. What are the car theives even going to steal, anyway? The empty Snapple bottle? The week-old volunteer t-shirt? Maybe I'm just not in the right mindset, but I feel pretty confident that's not the kind of merchandise they're looking for. And anyway, King Soopers is open 24 hours, meaning that the people who work overnight shifts leave their cars there... overnight. Point taken?
My extended essay was due over two weeks ago and I just can't seem to make any kind of coherent progress. Every time I think I should work on it, I freak out. I can't focus. Dropping IB looks good for awhile, then the guilt sets in.
I hate my manager. He's completely pretentious in every way and I've never been more patronized by anyone in my entire life. Also, he wears this stupid Tabasco tie that makes me want to throw up every time I see it. And if you come in like 2 seconds early from your buggy shift (swear to God, the clock above the service desk said I was a minute and a half into Duncan's shift), he yells at you and makes you go back out there. Call me crazy, but sometimes clocks have their second hands in slightly different places. How about chill the fuck out.
I know, I know, at least I'm not a starving African AIDS orphan. At least I'm not being shot to death in Darfur and I don't have to wear a Burka in Iran. At least I'm not a tsunami or hurricane victim, at least I have a place to live, blah blah blah. I get that. Yes. I'm grateful for all the positive things in my life, okay? All in all, I just really needed to vent. I feel ever so much better now.
7/14/2007
