i like tumblr so much better.
no seriously.
it's way cooler.
sorry.
28 February 2009
18 February 2009
and i can't tell if you're laughing,
I'm re-reading the whole Watchmen series.
It's been over a decade since I read it.
It's making me happy all over again now.
Chuck and Travis were talking about the movie coming out, like a month or so ago,
when it was just the three of us hanging out,
drinking, watching TV.
And at that point, I was half-drunk, half-asleep, because I was exhausted,
so I hadn't really been paying attention,
until Chuck said something to me,
and the only part of the sentence I heard was something about graphic novels,
and he had a book in his hand,
and I tried going back and re-listening to the conversation in my head,
but I couldn't figure it out.
And since I was half-asleep (let's not forget half-drunk as well),
it didn't occur to me to just ask him what the hell he was talking about.
So all I said was something about Sin City and then I went back to watching Zack and Miri Make a Porno, and trying not to fall asleep because I really wanted to watch it.
But, I think now (although I could be mistaken),
he was trying to tell me I should read Watchmen,
in which case,
Chuck! I have!
A little over ten years ago!!
Haha.
Actually, I only read 11 of the issues.
I had to skip number 11, because it wasn't there.
So that one will be a first for me tonight.
My mom and I were in some bookstore when we were living in Dallas,
I don't even remember where we were,
I just know we were there for a long time.
Maybe not so long though, because this WAS back when I was a retardedly fast reader.
But what I do know is,
the amount of time we spent in that bookstore,
was the first time I realized I was a total nerd.
I spent the entire time reading Watchmen.
I was just walking around, didn't feel like walking with Mom because she was looking at books for her class to read,
and I saw it.
Actually, I only saw a few of them,
they weren't all together.
But the ones I saw just in passing, for some reason I was intrigued.
And I figured, hey, I've got nothing else to do.
So I sat on the floor and read.
And then I had to search for about ten minutes after I finished the 5th or 6th issue so I could find the rest.
But they didn't have 11.
Sigh. I hate skipping things.
Anywho,
I was hooked from the first sentence.
Not only that, but here's how I know that I really AM a total nerd
(besides the fact that I was like a nine or ten year old girl sitting alone in a bookstore reading Watchmen, come on, really);
What really makes me a nerd,
is that The Comedian was my first love.
Sigh.
Besides Zack Morris anyway, but that's inevitable.
Yep, my first love was an illustration.
What a goob I was/am.
He made sense to me though.
Even though I was only 9 or 10 (probably closer to 10, but I can't remember exactly when this was),
he made more sense to me than any of the other superheroes in there,
and he certainly made WAY more sense to me than any character on TV,
or God forbid, anyone in real life.
He saw the world for what it really was.
And he had a sense of humor about it.
Well, a bit of a twisted one, but looking at myself now, I see why I appreciated it so much even then.
And besides, I always do fall for the drunk and disorderly ones who are obnoxious and, well, ME.
And I just knew in my heart that if I were the girl having his baby,
he wouldn't have shot me.
Because I wouldn't have stabbed him.
And we would have lived happily ever after, once I turned 18. :)
So really, in essence,
Jeffrey Dean Morgan playing The Comedian
IS THE BEST THING EVERRRRRRR.
I have NO DOUBT that the movie is going to be amazing,
and I know that my man Denny Duquette is NOT going to disappoint me in the role of my first true love.
Sigh.
I couldn't be more excited for March 6th.
I don't care if I have to go see it by myself.
I WILL see it. IN THEATERS.
Screw your HD TV Chuck,
some things just have to be seen in theaters and not at home.
:)
Transformers was one,
Live Free or Die Hard was another,
and now Watchmen.
Oh yes.
I'm ready.
And I think I've done enough public blogging about my nerdiness for one day.
Now I must go read #11 so that everything finally makes sense.
Bwahahahaha.
It's been over a decade since I read it.
It's making me happy all over again now.
Chuck and Travis were talking about the movie coming out, like a month or so ago,
when it was just the three of us hanging out,
drinking, watching TV.
And at that point, I was half-drunk, half-asleep, because I was exhausted,
so I hadn't really been paying attention,
until Chuck said something to me,
and the only part of the sentence I heard was something about graphic novels,
and he had a book in his hand,
and I tried going back and re-listening to the conversation in my head,
but I couldn't figure it out.
And since I was half-asleep (let's not forget half-drunk as well),
it didn't occur to me to just ask him what the hell he was talking about.
So all I said was something about Sin City and then I went back to watching Zack and Miri Make a Porno, and trying not to fall asleep because I really wanted to watch it.
But, I think now (although I could be mistaken),
he was trying to tell me I should read Watchmen,
in which case,
Chuck! I have!
A little over ten years ago!!
Haha.
Actually, I only read 11 of the issues.
I had to skip number 11, because it wasn't there.
So that one will be a first for me tonight.
My mom and I were in some bookstore when we were living in Dallas,
I don't even remember where we were,
I just know we were there for a long time.
Maybe not so long though, because this WAS back when I was a retardedly fast reader.
But what I do know is,
the amount of time we spent in that bookstore,
was the first time I realized I was a total nerd.
I spent the entire time reading Watchmen.
I was just walking around, didn't feel like walking with Mom because she was looking at books for her class to read,
and I saw it.
Actually, I only saw a few of them,
they weren't all together.
But the ones I saw just in passing, for some reason I was intrigued.
And I figured, hey, I've got nothing else to do.
So I sat on the floor and read.
And then I had to search for about ten minutes after I finished the 5th or 6th issue so I could find the rest.
But they didn't have 11.
Sigh. I hate skipping things.
Anywho,
I was hooked from the first sentence.
Not only that, but here's how I know that I really AM a total nerd
(besides the fact that I was like a nine or ten year old girl sitting alone in a bookstore reading Watchmen, come on, really);
What really makes me a nerd,
is that The Comedian was my first love.
Sigh.
Besides Zack Morris anyway, but that's inevitable.
Yep, my first love was an illustration.
What a goob I was/am.
He made sense to me though.
Even though I was only 9 or 10 (probably closer to 10, but I can't remember exactly when this was),
he made more sense to me than any of the other superheroes in there,
and he certainly made WAY more sense to me than any character on TV,
or God forbid, anyone in real life.
He saw the world for what it really was.
And he had a sense of humor about it.
Well, a bit of a twisted one, but looking at myself now, I see why I appreciated it so much even then.
And besides, I always do fall for the drunk and disorderly ones who are obnoxious and, well, ME.
And I just knew in my heart that if I were the girl having his baby,
he wouldn't have shot me.
Because I wouldn't have stabbed him.
And we would have lived happily ever after, once I turned 18. :)
So really, in essence,
Jeffrey Dean Morgan playing The Comedian
IS THE BEST THING EVERRRRRRR.
I have NO DOUBT that the movie is going to be amazing,
and I know that my man Denny Duquette is NOT going to disappoint me in the role of my first true love.
Sigh.
I couldn't be more excited for March 6th.
I don't care if I have to go see it by myself.
I WILL see it. IN THEATERS.
Screw your HD TV Chuck,
some things just have to be seen in theaters and not at home.
:)
Transformers was one,
Live Free or Die Hard was another,
and now Watchmen.
Oh yes.
I'm ready.
And I think I've done enough public blogging about my nerdiness for one day.
Now I must go read #11 so that everything finally makes sense.
Bwahahahaha.
15 February 2009
the jetset life is gonna kill you.
Went to Lafayette last night.
Drove back today.
Had to force myself to not run my car into a ditch on purpose.
Then had to force myself not to run my car into a ditch by accident, because I kept falling asleep.
I've been hating life a lot lately.
And I have no one to talk to about it.
And then my mom went and took my cats and my dog to the shelter without telling me first.
Thanks for the icing on the cake, Mom.
But for future reference, I prefer vanilla icing.
Not this kind.
We've had those animals since I was a little girl.
Every time I think about it, I want to cry,
but I can't.
Whatever.
Fuck life, it's the best.
Drove back today.
Had to force myself to not run my car into a ditch on purpose.
Then had to force myself not to run my car into a ditch by accident, because I kept falling asleep.
I've been hating life a lot lately.
And I have no one to talk to about it.
And then my mom went and took my cats and my dog to the shelter without telling me first.
Thanks for the icing on the cake, Mom.
But for future reference, I prefer vanilla icing.
Not this kind.
We've had those animals since I was a little girl.
Every time I think about it, I want to cry,
but I can't.
Whatever.
Fuck life, it's the best.
13 February 2009
i remembered your name from before, but now i'm living in the after.
I almost walked out on my job today.
I've never been so angry all at once with that place.
This isn't me being picky.
This isn't me being a jackass.
This isn't me not wanting to try to make a "relationship" work.
This is me being taken advantage of at my job.
This is me dealing with how unprofessional things are at my job.
This is me being disrespected, underappreciated, and completely pissed off at my job.
I officially hate that place.
Oh, and then I went to fill my prescription today,
and the LOVELY new insurance that I just got in January THROUGH MY LOVELY JOB,
doesn't cover a DIME of it.
Not one cent.
It cost $205.89.
The whole reason I got the damn insurance was because of my prescription.
I rarely get sick, and when I do, I hardly go to the doctor because I hate going to the doctor.
So the ENTIRE purpose of me getting the insurance through work was because of my stupid fucking prescription.
And it doesn't cover a cent.
I'm losing 100 bucks a paycheck now,
for nothing.
I might as well drop the insurance and use that 100 bucks I gain back to go towards the full price of the prescription.
But actually,
I'm just going to drop the insurance and switch to generic.
It'll only be about 63 bucks a month for the generic.
So fuck you, HealthPlus.
I'm so not surprised that THAT'S the insurance my job offers.
What a fucking waste.
I've never been so angry all at once with that place.
This isn't me being picky.
This isn't me being a jackass.
This isn't me not wanting to try to make a "relationship" work.
This is me being taken advantage of at my job.
This is me dealing with how unprofessional things are at my job.
This is me being disrespected, underappreciated, and completely pissed off at my job.
I officially hate that place.
Oh, and then I went to fill my prescription today,
and the LOVELY new insurance that I just got in January THROUGH MY LOVELY JOB,
doesn't cover a DIME of it.
Not one cent.
It cost $205.89.
The whole reason I got the damn insurance was because of my prescription.
I rarely get sick, and when I do, I hardly go to the doctor because I hate going to the doctor.
So the ENTIRE purpose of me getting the insurance through work was because of my stupid fucking prescription.
And it doesn't cover a cent.
I'm losing 100 bucks a paycheck now,
for nothing.
I might as well drop the insurance and use that 100 bucks I gain back to go towards the full price of the prescription.
But actually,
I'm just going to drop the insurance and switch to generic.
It'll only be about 63 bucks a month for the generic.
So fuck you, HealthPlus.
I'm so not surprised that THAT'S the insurance my job offers.
What a fucking waste.
12 February 2009
the diamonds in your fire burning like a flame inside of you,
I've been sick of work for a while now.
But I was dealing with it because, well, I've been there for a year and a half now,
and I'm sort of a habitually picky person.
And when I say sort of,
I mean incredibly.
Here's the pattern:
I break up with people I'm dating once I start to really get to know them,
because I pick them apart.
I put them under the microscope,
and I zoom the lens in as far as it will go.
And I look at each and every cell as closely as I can,
inspecting it for disease.
And because I'm a habitually picky person,
I find a disease on at least 50% of their cells.
If it were anyone else using the same microscope,
they wouldn't find nearly as many damaged cells as I do.
Because that's what I do.
And because I'm a jackass,
I let the damaged cells destroy the good ones like a fucking virus is attacking them.
OK, that's enough with the scientific metaphors.
But the point is,
I let every one of their flaws irritate the shit out of me until I can't take it anymore,
they annoy me,
and I make them leave.
I either make them want to leave me, or I leave them.
So, I don't think it's irrational for me to be 99.9% certain that that's what I was doing about my job when I first started hating it.
It just so happens that because I'm good at my job,
I've liked it for longer than I've ever liked anyone I've dated,
so it took longer than a few months for me to start putting my job under the microscope.
Therefore, I thought to myself,
"Self, you're being a jackass again. Let's see if you're just being stupid and picky and if this will blow over."
If only I had the ability to say that to myself in a relationship.
But whatever.
The point I'm trying to make is,
it's NOT blowing over.
I'm exhausted physically and mentally because of my job.
My job is not the thing that is causing this exhaustion firsthand.
It's how annoyed I am with my job and ALL the parts of it (and I do mean ALL).
My irritation with my work is making me tired.
Physically, mentally, and emotionally drained.
But what sucks is,
I don't actually HATE my job. I'm just annoyed.
I really do like my job.
I like what I do.
But I'm just so sick of the bullshit that goes on day after day.
People come to me with all kinds of questions (and I don't mean the people in my department, because they're supposed to ask me questions),
about things that have NOTHING to do with my job or my department,
but they still assume that I have the answers to them.
And what really sucks is,
I do.
90% of the time, I can answer the questions that have virtually nothing to do with me or my department.
If I didn't know the answers,
they'd probably stop asking.
I've thought about telling people that from now on: "I don't know."
But because of who I am, I can't do that.
I can't not answer a question that I DO know the answer to.
I can't fail on purpose.
I'm a strong enough and reasonable enough person that if I fail at something because I made a stupid mistake or I didn't try hard enough,
I can accept that failure, and I can learn from it.
Or if I fail at something after trying my hardest to succeed,
and I still fail,
I either accept the failure and learn from it,
or I start over and try again.
I cannot fail on purpose.
Purposefully failing at ANYTHING seems ridiculous to me.
So no, I can't just NOT answer these questions that I do know the answers to.
Not only that, but because I'm such a CURIOUS person,
the ones I DON'T know the answers to,
I have to find out the answers to them and then give them the answers.
Actually I think that's a combination of my curiosity and my unwillingness to not have the correct goddamn answer.
But hey.
I'm just tired of it all.
I'm tired of these ridiculous mistakes that are being made,
I'm tired of basically being taken advantage of as far as my paycheck is concerned because I was supposed to get a raise two paychecks ago and still haven't,
and I shouldn't have to put up with that shit.
No one who deserves a raise should have to put up with not seeing their raise,
and if they DO have to put up with it due to a human error,
it should be corrected.
My mom asked me if I'd get retroactive pay to go back to when I should've gotten it.
I told her I sincerely doubted it.
She got irritated and asked why.
And I told her because that's just not something I can see happening up there.
It really isn't.
I'm not saying I'm this like super amazing employee,
or an amazing supervisor,
or anything like that.
I'm saying I'm good at my job because I know my job and I know how to do it.
I'm saying I'm a smart person.
I'm saying I bust my ASS up there and when I get a good score on a performance review and I'm supposed to have a raise,
it PISSES ME OFF when I don't get it at the time I was supposed to.
Michelle and I both work our fucking asses off up there.
We put up with so much shit that most people don't even know we put up with.
We do WAY more than we should for our employees,
we are both good at what we do,
and we both get basically nothing for it.
And I am SO not saying that the other supervisors don't put up with a lot of shit.
Because we all do.
And I'm sure they have to deal with getting nothing to show for their hard work too.
But all I personally know about is me and Michelle.
But it shouldn't be any of us.
But I was dealing with it because, well, I've been there for a year and a half now,
and I'm sort of a habitually picky person.
And when I say sort of,
I mean incredibly.
Here's the pattern:
I break up with people I'm dating once I start to really get to know them,
because I pick them apart.
I put them under the microscope,
and I zoom the lens in as far as it will go.
And I look at each and every cell as closely as I can,
inspecting it for disease.
And because I'm a habitually picky person,
I find a disease on at least 50% of their cells.
If it were anyone else using the same microscope,
they wouldn't find nearly as many damaged cells as I do.
Because that's what I do.
And because I'm a jackass,
I let the damaged cells destroy the good ones like a fucking virus is attacking them.
OK, that's enough with the scientific metaphors.
But the point is,
I let every one of their flaws irritate the shit out of me until I can't take it anymore,
they annoy me,
and I make them leave.
I either make them want to leave me, or I leave them.
So, I don't think it's irrational for me to be 99.9% certain that that's what I was doing about my job when I first started hating it.
It just so happens that because I'm good at my job,
I've liked it for longer than I've ever liked anyone I've dated,
so it took longer than a few months for me to start putting my job under the microscope.
Therefore, I thought to myself,
"Self, you're being a jackass again. Let's see if you're just being stupid and picky and if this will blow over."
If only I had the ability to say that to myself in a relationship.
But whatever.
The point I'm trying to make is,
it's NOT blowing over.
I'm exhausted physically and mentally because of my job.
My job is not the thing that is causing this exhaustion firsthand.
It's how annoyed I am with my job and ALL the parts of it (and I do mean ALL).
My irritation with my work is making me tired.
Physically, mentally, and emotionally drained.
But what sucks is,
I don't actually HATE my job. I'm just annoyed.
I really do like my job.
I like what I do.
But I'm just so sick of the bullshit that goes on day after day.
People come to me with all kinds of questions (and I don't mean the people in my department, because they're supposed to ask me questions),
about things that have NOTHING to do with my job or my department,
but they still assume that I have the answers to them.
And what really sucks is,
I do.
90% of the time, I can answer the questions that have virtually nothing to do with me or my department.
If I didn't know the answers,
they'd probably stop asking.
I've thought about telling people that from now on: "I don't know."
But because of who I am, I can't do that.
I can't not answer a question that I DO know the answer to.
I can't fail on purpose.
I'm a strong enough and reasonable enough person that if I fail at something because I made a stupid mistake or I didn't try hard enough,
I can accept that failure, and I can learn from it.
Or if I fail at something after trying my hardest to succeed,
and I still fail,
I either accept the failure and learn from it,
or I start over and try again.
I cannot fail on purpose.
Purposefully failing at ANYTHING seems ridiculous to me.
So no, I can't just NOT answer these questions that I do know the answers to.
Not only that, but because I'm such a CURIOUS person,
the ones I DON'T know the answers to,
I have to find out the answers to them and then give them the answers.
Actually I think that's a combination of my curiosity and my unwillingness to not have the correct goddamn answer.
But hey.
I'm just tired of it all.
I'm tired of these ridiculous mistakes that are being made,
I'm tired of basically being taken advantage of as far as my paycheck is concerned because I was supposed to get a raise two paychecks ago and still haven't,
and I shouldn't have to put up with that shit.
No one who deserves a raise should have to put up with not seeing their raise,
and if they DO have to put up with it due to a human error,
it should be corrected.
My mom asked me if I'd get retroactive pay to go back to when I should've gotten it.
I told her I sincerely doubted it.
She got irritated and asked why.
And I told her because that's just not something I can see happening up there.
It really isn't.
I'm not saying I'm this like super amazing employee,
or an amazing supervisor,
or anything like that.
I'm saying I'm good at my job because I know my job and I know how to do it.
I'm saying I'm a smart person.
I'm saying I bust my ASS up there and when I get a good score on a performance review and I'm supposed to have a raise,
it PISSES ME OFF when I don't get it at the time I was supposed to.
Michelle and I both work our fucking asses off up there.
We put up with so much shit that most people don't even know we put up with.
We do WAY more than we should for our employees,
we are both good at what we do,
and we both get basically nothing for it.
And I am SO not saying that the other supervisors don't put up with a lot of shit.
Because we all do.
And I'm sure they have to deal with getting nothing to show for their hard work too.
But all I personally know about is me and Michelle.
But it shouldn't be any of us.
03 February 2009
you took me home i drank too much,
I ordered a book online tonight.
It's called I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell.
The title alone made me think of myself.
And then I read the little description of it on Amazon,
and it R E A L L Y reminded me of myself.
So I had to have it.
Because that's what a narcissist does.
I chopped off all my hair.
A quick note to my future self:
DON'T BLEACH YOUR HAIR AND THEN PROCEED TO DYE IT TWO DAYS LATER!
You will deeply regret this decision, self.
Better yet,
don't dye your hair black ever again unless it's short enough that you can just let the black grow out.
Or if you're willing to dye it black for the rest of your life,
which normally,
I would be (considering it's my fall-back color because it looks good and covers up any mistakes)
but SINCE I am so fond of changing my hair color every few months,
black is not a good idea.
Not now that I know my hair really ISN'T indestructible.
Seriously though,
I didn't realize how long my hair was
until
it was all
lying
on the floor.
About five inches or so.
And now
I think I have about four inches of hair.
OK, maybe more than that.
In some areas.
Eh, I'm not good at estimating sizes.
Well, actually...
Nah, nevermind.
I'll leave that one alone. It's too easy.
Travis is coming over either tomorrow or Wednesday to watch the first two episodes of that new show Trust Me.
Yeah, maybe I am retarded for trying so hard to stay "close" to him.
Or, maybe everyone else should just fuck off.
I like that better.
If my two options are either I'm retarded or the world can go to hell,
I think I'll pick the world's fate over admitting my retardation any day.
Really though.
First of all, movies, TV, music,
this is how he and I bond.
This is what we stay close about.
Not personal shit.
Is it a messed up friendship?
Absolutely.
Would I have it any other way?
Maybe some things.
But do I want to have the kind of friendship with him that, say, Becca and I have?
That Michelle and I have?
The kind where I talk to him about anything and everything I can think of?
No.
He doesn't want to know everything about me.
And there are things I don't want him to know.
I like things the way they are.
Do I wish he took a slightly larger active interest in me,
in the way that, oh I don't know, say MY BIRTHDAY
was a priority to him?
Yes, I do.
But that's how he is,
that's how he and I operate.
And at the end of the day (on most days),
I'm okay with it.
I still love him.
He's still my favorite person to laugh with.
And he's still, and will always be,
the one I end up staying up laughing with at a party
way past the time the sun comes up and everyone else has gone to bed.
And that's really all I ask for.
I don't feel like sleeping.
And I chopped off all my damn hair.
Sigh.
It's called I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell.
The title alone made me think of myself.
And then I read the little description of it on Amazon,
and it R E A L L Y reminded me of myself.
So I had to have it.
Because that's what a narcissist does.
I chopped off all my hair.
A quick note to my future self:
DON'T BLEACH YOUR HAIR AND THEN PROCEED TO DYE IT TWO DAYS LATER!
You will deeply regret this decision, self.
Better yet,
don't dye your hair black ever again unless it's short enough that you can just let the black grow out.
Or if you're willing to dye it black for the rest of your life,
which normally,
I would be (considering it's my fall-back color because it looks good and covers up any mistakes)
but SINCE I am so fond of changing my hair color every few months,
black is not a good idea.
Not now that I know my hair really ISN'T indestructible.
Seriously though,
I didn't realize how long my hair was
until
it was all
lying
on the floor.
About five inches or so.
And now
I think I have about four inches of hair.
OK, maybe more than that.
In some areas.
Eh, I'm not good at estimating sizes.
Well, actually...
Nah, nevermind.
I'll leave that one alone. It's too easy.
Travis is coming over either tomorrow or Wednesday to watch the first two episodes of that new show Trust Me.
Yeah, maybe I am retarded for trying so hard to stay "close" to him.
Or, maybe everyone else should just fuck off.
I like that better.
If my two options are either I'm retarded or the world can go to hell,
I think I'll pick the world's fate over admitting my retardation any day.
Really though.
First of all, movies, TV, music,
this is how he and I bond.
This is what we stay close about.
Not personal shit.
Is it a messed up friendship?
Absolutely.
Would I have it any other way?
Maybe some things.
But do I want to have the kind of friendship with him that, say, Becca and I have?
That Michelle and I have?
The kind where I talk to him about anything and everything I can think of?
No.
He doesn't want to know everything about me.
And there are things I don't want him to know.
I like things the way they are.
Do I wish he took a slightly larger active interest in me,
in the way that, oh I don't know, say MY BIRTHDAY
was a priority to him?
Yes, I do.
But that's how he is,
that's how he and I operate.
And at the end of the day (on most days),
I'm okay with it.
I still love him.
He's still my favorite person to laugh with.
And he's still, and will always be,
the one I end up staying up laughing with at a party
way past the time the sun comes up and everyone else has gone to bed.
And that's really all I ask for.
I don't feel like sleeping.
And I chopped off all my damn hair.
Sigh.
01 February 2009
now let me make it right,
Last night was my birthday celebration night.
Or, it was supposed to be.
It ended up feeling like I was the anti-christ and I was coming to crash God's party or something.
Like, we went to Phoenix,
yeah,
that would've been cool ANY other fucking weekend.
But this particular weekend was my birthday celebration.
And Travis wasn't there.
Yeah, he's a fucking dick for going to Amber's and not out with me,
yes, he completely is, and I'm still pissed about it,
but I wasn't going to convince him to come out with us.
And I need Travis there for my birthday.
I just do.
I remember when Ben got so frustrated with me a couple years back for my 19th birthday and I was so upset that I thought Travis wasn't coming but then he ended up surprising me when he got off work and Ben was even more frustrated because then when Travis got there I was so excited and happy in a way that he couldn't do for me, and he told me that, this isn't me speaking for his thoughts.
We had a long talk about it the next day, I remember it very well.
Travis is just someone I have to spend my birthday with.
Period paragraph.
It wasn't that I didn't want to be with Becca and Chuck, I wanted to be with them more than anything,
but the fact of the matter is,
I couldn't be happy at Phoenix knowing it was to celebrate MY birthday and MY Travis wasn't there.
So I gave in,
and I went running in his direction again,
like always,
instead of making him run to me.
The reason I go running in his direction
instead of waiting to see if he runs in mine,
is because
I know
he won't
run anywhere near me.
And it would break my goddamn heart.
So I'd just rather do all the work
and think that he's my best MALE friend in the world
than wait for him to come running
and realize that he could care less about me.
I'm okay with it the way it is.
It's been this way for a long time now and I'm fine with it.
Most of the time.
Except on my birthday.
But,
at any rate,
no one really wanted me to be at Amber's,
or if they did, they had a really strange way of showing it.
Fuck them,
it didn't even bother me though,
I had a blast by inserting myself into other people's conversations
(especially when it made them uncomfortable,
that was the best)
and entertaining myself.
Oh and by the way,
I'm not a stupid slut,
you don't GET to call me a stupid slut.
You didn't want to date me.
So you aren't allowed to call me names
or be mad about me supposedly standing you up.
I don't have time for this shit.
Or, it was supposed to be.
It ended up feeling like I was the anti-christ and I was coming to crash God's party or something.
Like, we went to Phoenix,
yeah,
that would've been cool ANY other fucking weekend.
But this particular weekend was my birthday celebration.
And Travis wasn't there.
Yeah, he's a fucking dick for going to Amber's and not out with me,
yes, he completely is, and I'm still pissed about it,
but I wasn't going to convince him to come out with us.
And I need Travis there for my birthday.
I just do.
I remember when Ben got so frustrated with me a couple years back for my 19th birthday and I was so upset that I thought Travis wasn't coming but then he ended up surprising me when he got off work and Ben was even more frustrated because then when Travis got there I was so excited and happy in a way that he couldn't do for me, and he told me that, this isn't me speaking for his thoughts.
We had a long talk about it the next day, I remember it very well.
Travis is just someone I have to spend my birthday with.
Period paragraph.
It wasn't that I didn't want to be with Becca and Chuck, I wanted to be with them more than anything,
but the fact of the matter is,
I couldn't be happy at Phoenix knowing it was to celebrate MY birthday and MY Travis wasn't there.
So I gave in,
and I went running in his direction again,
like always,
instead of making him run to me.
The reason I go running in his direction
instead of waiting to see if he runs in mine,
is because
I know
he won't
run anywhere near me.
And it would break my goddamn heart.
So I'd just rather do all the work
and think that he's my best MALE friend in the world
than wait for him to come running
and realize that he could care less about me.
I'm okay with it the way it is.
It's been this way for a long time now and I'm fine with it.
Most of the time.
Except on my birthday.
But,
at any rate,
no one really wanted me to be at Amber's,
or if they did, they had a really strange way of showing it.
Fuck them,
it didn't even bother me though,
I had a blast by inserting myself into other people's conversations
(especially when it made them uncomfortable,
that was the best)
and entertaining myself.
Oh and by the way,
I'm not a stupid slut,
you don't GET to call me a stupid slut.
You didn't want to date me.
So you aren't allowed to call me names
or be mad about me supposedly standing you up.
I don't have time for this shit.
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