this entire semester i have been creepily, borderline stalkery in love with my methods teacher. he's like 26, a phd student, grizzly and delicious JUST how i like my mens. i had the highest grade in his class and he always teased me, publicly, for being the only person in the whole room with a brain. i took his final exam on friday morning, figured that would pretty much be the last time i saw him and cried inside.
I WAS WRONG!
through a string of clusterfuck party failures, my friend melanie and i ended up at the tennessee strip last night. under normal circumstances i would not be caught dead at this establishment, but "finals week ended yesterday and i haven't gotten wasted in 7 whole days and my drinking plans just got canceled" does NOT constitute normal circumstances. we're surrounded by bros and hoes and i am pounding rum/diet liquor pitchers like i'm getting paid $11 for drinking them instead of the other way around. then from across the bar (it's U-shaped and we're on one end of the U) someone BELLOWS my name. i look up and there, practically shining in all of his delicious fucking hotness, is my TA. we smile and wave; both kind of awkward because, well, he's in love with me but we can't get married right now because he hasn't posted my grade yet. so i kind of look away, screaming under my breath to melanie that "ohmygod that's the TA i was telling you about look at him he loves me and now he's talking to his friends and they're all looking at me i totally have a girl boner".
she looks up. "hey, i think he's trying to get your attention."
he is. in fact he is yelling my name more and straight up waving his arms. "HEY! c! hey. DON'T MOVE."
i stop breathing in case that counts as moving.
he points us out to the bartender and 5 minutes later she turns around with 2 large shots. "mind erasers! kahlua on the bottom, vanilla vodka and 7up on top. drink it really fast and you'll only taste the kahlua. they're delicious!" she's hot and looks like an alcoholic so i take her word for it. he smiles and cheerses me across the bar. my ice cold hearts starts to melt and i take the shot despite my raging brain erection.
i never saw him again-- i think he and his friends left-- but i was not done yet. after sending several textual gems to bffs, i was getting antsy. around 2:15 is the point in my pimp strategy that i usually send the "something cute and obscure that happened when we saw each other tonight, haha :)" text message, but of course i don't have his number. so i did the most logical thing i could think of in my liq pitcher haze and sent him an email via blackboard. my shamelessness truly knows no bounds.
"best shot ever."
he writes me back, ONE MINUTE LATER:
"Glad you enjoyed it."
WE. ARE. GETTING. FUCKING. MARRIED. oh mygod he is so delicious and he loves me and i might be exaggerating this by like 7-10% but, as mel put it, "he bought you a shot called the mind eraser. he at LEAST wants to get in your pants. what other message could that possibly be sending?!"
i'm going to go watch dexter and touch myself with happiness- just kidding about the first part. ;)
oh and ps-- the texts i was sending were truly magical. here's the best one: "my delicious grizzly (now former) prof that i have been eyefucking for 5 months just BOUGHT ME A SHOT CALLED A MIND ERASER. trying to fuck me y/n/m?? i'm really going tol rape him either way so consider that in ur answer". i am everyone's favorite friend. <3
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
i think i miss you most on wednesdays, and saturdays.
as evidenced by the title, i have been listening to way too much dashboard. i spent the entire weekend horizontal- sleeping or watching tv or staring at the wall trying not to picture any of the many things about him that i loved. 6 days later, here is a breakdown (how ironic) of how one should handle a breakup... or at least how i'm doing it.
day 0: get dumped. leave work with the explanation "i'm just not having a very good day." cry. cry so much that you literally can't breathe and your face goes numb and you can't do anything about the gallons of mucus leaking out of your nose because there is a brick in your sinuses. if you have friends, do this at their houses. take shots of tequila, which won't make clearly explaining the horror you have just experienced 9 times any easier. make long distance phone calls in order to do this with other friends who have been rude enough to go to college in other countries instead of holding your little retarded hand for the past 2 years. eventually, stop crying, but make sure you start again when you hear the dirty rap song whose lyrics were the caption of one of his profile pictures or see someone driving the same kind of car that he drives (if his car is a black jeep liberty, you're fucked.)
day 1: go back to work. do NOT wear makeup. FEROCIOUSLY facebook stalk the shit out of him and look unstable enough that your boss doesn't try to stop you. look at 50+% of all of his tagged pictures, the profiles of any girls that have written on his wall in the past month, and anything that he has commented on-- esPECIALLY if it belongs to dumb cunt slores... i mean, other girls.
get the fuck off of facebook. delete all texts in your phone from him. yes, even the one where he told you your legs were beautiful and the one where you two reminisced about the awesome time you had at margarita wednesday the previous night. you know what? fuck it. delete his fucking phone number. you don't need it. and if you do, you can find it on facebook which is the only reason you are deleting it at all. let's be real here.
go to an iron and wine concert or something equally emotionally charged. sob into your hands and make everyone in your vicinity really uncomfortable. go to sleep.
day 2: if this day is not saturday, repeat day 1 until it is. if this day is saturday, you are slightly luckier than the average swollen-faced fat dumped bitch. eat everything, or eat nothing-- everyone's different! don't bathe. watch avatar. watch the millionaire matchmaker and throw shit at the tv because let's face it, these old ugly bitches are GOING to find love RIGHT NOW with the help of patti stanger as you sit transfixed and probably sobbing again into a box of cheez-its. have chick fil a for dinner with your mom. watch a pivotal football game which, let's face it, almost gave me a heart attack in my fragile state. have a beer. ONE. BEER. go to sleep. have gut-wrenching dreams in which your recent ex has sex with your best friend right in front of you.
day 3: if this day is not sunday, you didn't repeat day 1 enough times and you're a stupid bad listener. wake up and roll over at like 11:30am. cry on the dog- she doesn't mind. catch up on 9 eps of grey's anatomy and 3 of dexter in bed. talk to your parents about how they need to support you when your only life partner is Hypothetical Cat Vlad. your dad will laugh. your mom will make a note to call your therapist in the morning while simultaneously suggesting that Vlad be a white cat so as not to shed on your wedding dress.
bathe at like 9pm. maybe wash your hair too, but you can pretend to be sick or that you're going to exercise in the morning if that step is too much. have gut wrenching dreams about running into your recent ex with his new wildebeest slut and you are fatter than you are when you went to sleep.
day 4: HOLY SHIT MONDAYS SUCK. wake up and attempt a workout. you can't rebound if you look like a bowl of banana pudding, amiright? marvel at the fact that until today, you have not seen your own face without any traces of makeup on it since you were 13.
decide that today is a good day to wear makeup. (don't panic- you're going to look like an alien from the planet bad transvestite. your eyelashes aren't used to this shit! what are you DOING to me?!?) wear pants that are crafted of jean instead of fleece, AND a bra that has cups. go to work and fake smile a lot. tell everyone you had a great weekend catching up on sleep, when in reality you were waking up every hour or so seeing and feeling thousands of red ants crawling in your bed.
day 5: deactivate your facebook. stalking is no longer an option. you are whiny and BORED! DYE YOUR HAIR! but not all of it because you're a pansy ass bitch. just the bottom half- chestnut. watch glee, cry like someone killed your dog when they sing "just the way you are" because who is ever going to like YOU just the way you are and never want to change anything about YOUR face? i usually don't take my makeup off at night which means it is still on in the morning and my eyes are red and since i'm a ginger i look like the bride of chucky. yeahhh buddy- just the way i am.
put on a cute shirt and go out drinking. accept a date from some guy that followed you around for 15 minutes. he's in the army. he wants to take you to dinner and a movie. whatever, i'll take a free pasta dish and glass/bottle of wine. see you friday, brandon!
day 6: you went to yoga and communed with your feelings! it felt good. you feel a little more like yourself. a jaded, world weary version of yourself, but still better than the version that feels like a flesh-eating virus is eating its entire chest cavity every time he friends a new miami bitch on facebook.
tomorrow is a week. we'll see how my chest cavity is doing then.
day 0: get dumped. leave work with the explanation "i'm just not having a very good day." cry. cry so much that you literally can't breathe and your face goes numb and you can't do anything about the gallons of mucus leaking out of your nose because there is a brick in your sinuses. if you have friends, do this at their houses. take shots of tequila, which won't make clearly explaining the horror you have just experienced 9 times any easier. make long distance phone calls in order to do this with other friends who have been rude enough to go to college in other countries instead of holding your little retarded hand for the past 2 years. eventually, stop crying, but make sure you start again when you hear the dirty rap song whose lyrics were the caption of one of his profile pictures or see someone driving the same kind of car that he drives (if his car is a black jeep liberty, you're fucked.)
day 1: go back to work. do NOT wear makeup. FEROCIOUSLY facebook stalk the shit out of him and look unstable enough that your boss doesn't try to stop you. look at 50+% of all of his tagged pictures, the profiles of any girls that have written on his wall in the past month, and anything that he has commented on-- esPECIALLY if it belongs to dumb cunt slores... i mean, other girls.
get the fuck off of facebook. delete all texts in your phone from him. yes, even the one where he told you your legs were beautiful and the one where you two reminisced about the awesome time you had at margarita wednesday the previous night. you know what? fuck it. delete his fucking phone number. you don't need it. and if you do, you can find it on facebook which is the only reason you are deleting it at all. let's be real here.
go to an iron and wine concert or something equally emotionally charged. sob into your hands and make everyone in your vicinity really uncomfortable. go to sleep.
day 2: if this day is not saturday, repeat day 1 until it is. if this day is saturday, you are slightly luckier than the average swollen-faced fat dumped bitch. eat everything, or eat nothing-- everyone's different! don't bathe. watch avatar. watch the millionaire matchmaker and throw shit at the tv because let's face it, these old ugly bitches are GOING to find love RIGHT NOW with the help of patti stanger as you sit transfixed and probably sobbing again into a box of cheez-its. have chick fil a for dinner with your mom. watch a pivotal football game which, let's face it, almost gave me a heart attack in my fragile state. have a beer. ONE. BEER. go to sleep. have gut-wrenching dreams in which your recent ex has sex with your best friend right in front of you.
day 3: if this day is not sunday, you didn't repeat day 1 enough times and you're a stupid bad listener. wake up and roll over at like 11:30am. cry on the dog- she doesn't mind. catch up on 9 eps of grey's anatomy and 3 of dexter in bed. talk to your parents about how they need to support you when your only life partner is Hypothetical Cat Vlad. your dad will laugh. your mom will make a note to call your therapist in the morning while simultaneously suggesting that Vlad be a white cat so as not to shed on your wedding dress.
bathe at like 9pm. maybe wash your hair too, but you can pretend to be sick or that you're going to exercise in the morning if that step is too much. have gut wrenching dreams about running into your recent ex with his new wildebeest slut and you are fatter than you are when you went to sleep.
day 4: HOLY SHIT MONDAYS SUCK. wake up and attempt a workout. you can't rebound if you look like a bowl of banana pudding, amiright? marvel at the fact that until today, you have not seen your own face without any traces of makeup on it since you were 13.
decide that today is a good day to wear makeup. (don't panic- you're going to look like an alien from the planet bad transvestite. your eyelashes aren't used to this shit! what are you DOING to me?!?) wear pants that are crafted of jean instead of fleece, AND a bra that has cups. go to work and fake smile a lot. tell everyone you had a great weekend catching up on sleep, when in reality you were waking up every hour or so seeing and feeling thousands of red ants crawling in your bed.
day 5: deactivate your facebook. stalking is no longer an option. you are whiny and BORED! DYE YOUR HAIR! but not all of it because you're a pansy ass bitch. just the bottom half- chestnut. watch glee, cry like someone killed your dog when they sing "just the way you are" because who is ever going to like YOU just the way you are and never want to change anything about YOUR face? i usually don't take my makeup off at night which means it is still on in the morning and my eyes are red and since i'm a ginger i look like the bride of chucky. yeahhh buddy- just the way i am.
put on a cute shirt and go out drinking. accept a date from some guy that followed you around for 15 minutes. he's in the army. he wants to take you to dinner and a movie. whatever, i'll take a free pasta dish and glass/bottle of wine. see you friday, brandon!
day 6: you went to yoga and communed with your feelings! it felt good. you feel a little more like yourself. a jaded, world weary version of yourself, but still better than the version that feels like a flesh-eating virus is eating its entire chest cavity every time he friends a new miami bitch on facebook.
tomorrow is a week. we'll see how my chest cavity is doing then.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
love and some verses you hear, say what you can't say.
on thursday, my kind of but not really bf j and i broke up. last saturday, i got super drunk enough at a tailgate to realize that he was never, ever lying when he told me repeatedly that he didn't want a girlfriend. i was also drunk enough to corner him next to the keg aka in front of ALL of our friends and yell at him about this fact. sunday morning, we confirmed that yes, we should have this talk again when neither of us is blacked out. monday: nothing. tuesday: can't eat. wednesday: having multiple heart attacks. thursday: saw him across the parking garage at school in the morning- we both looked away and took different staircases. i am crying. 2 hours later saw him walking on campus with one of his many wildebeest female acquaintances; this time we both waved. 15 minutes later i texted him: "after my drunken tantrum on saturday, i backed off and figured you would talk to me when you wanted to. it's been 4 days and you haven't. why?"
he called me. he doesn't think we should hook up anymore because he knows it's hurting me that he doesn't want more right now. he wants us to be friends. i am "the shit" and he wants to still be friends and hang out as friends, even though that will be weird for a while... i'm crying again writing this because he's right. i'm not strong enough to walk away from something that clearly isn't good for me, as evidenced by the last time that i broke up with him and came crawling back after one week of being miserable. it needed to happen, and it's better that it come from him since i would probably just cave again.
i liked him so much that it scared me sometimes. i cared about him. i thought about him all the time. clearly he wasn't ready for any of that. too selfish, too lazy, too absolutely committed to being single in college and bromance instead of romance. either way i'm scared that i won't ever feel like that about someone again. and that no one will put up with my crazy ass for 9 months again.... ever.
i can't figure out what i'm doing wrong. what i've always been doing wrong. maybe i give too much and don't ask for enough. maybe i'm too insecure to ever believe that someone would like THIS. maybe i just need to stop caring-- everyone says that when you stop looking for someone, you find them.
maybe i'm going to go cry and watch grey's anatomy for the rest of the day. this month sucks.
he called me. he doesn't think we should hook up anymore because he knows it's hurting me that he doesn't want more right now. he wants us to be friends. i am "the shit" and he wants to still be friends and hang out as friends, even though that will be weird for a while... i'm crying again writing this because he's right. i'm not strong enough to walk away from something that clearly isn't good for me, as evidenced by the last time that i broke up with him and came crawling back after one week of being miserable. it needed to happen, and it's better that it come from him since i would probably just cave again.
i liked him so much that it scared me sometimes. i cared about him. i thought about him all the time. clearly he wasn't ready for any of that. too selfish, too lazy, too absolutely committed to being single in college and bromance instead of romance. either way i'm scared that i won't ever feel like that about someone again. and that no one will put up with my crazy ass for 9 months again.... ever.
i can't figure out what i'm doing wrong. what i've always been doing wrong. maybe i give too much and don't ask for enough. maybe i'm too insecure to ever believe that someone would like THIS. maybe i just need to stop caring-- everyone says that when you stop looking for someone, you find them.
maybe i'm going to go cry and watch grey's anatomy for the rest of the day. this month sucks.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
"are you a showgirl or something?" "i'm a bunny. i'm wearing ears."
hell week is almost over. having a test 3 days after halloween (aka after 4 days of COMPLETE drunken semi-naked black/passouts and pukage) should definitely be illegal.. ATTENTION my criminology methods teacher!
i've been having debilitating foot cramps today. too much baclava while laying in bed watching grey's/criminal minds/dexter will do that to you apparently. i haven't even had a day to do single-girl shit in forever, so the gods of fitness can kiss my ass. in a similar vein, i had checkers for dinner tonight. fail fail FAILLLL.
tomorrow i'll be working, aka tell my boss how to spell things like "menu" and "verizon", going to 2 classes, gettin muh bangs trimmed, seeing Easy A with some russian bitch <3, and COAT SHOPPING! that's one of the things i love about living in florida-- you can put off buying freakishly expensive winter garments until way later than just about anyone else in the usa. that, my friend, is the win of the day.
also, a note completely worthy of passiveaggressivenotes.com fully popped up in the kitchen today. "the coffeepot has white mold in it. please clean it out." before you go "wow, that's pretty gross and actually a totally reasonable statement", consider 4 things:
1. it's my fucking coffeepot and
2. you don't even USE IT and
3. i've been listening to you have orgasms for a week and somehow still functioning without coffee for long enough that the remnants have grown mold. THAT IS PRETTY FUCKING IMPRESSIVE. so,
4. suck my dick. because i can write passive aggressive notes too. stay tuned... ;)
off to work on a project due friday that i procrastinated. (who, ME? procrastinate?! wash your mouth out with moldy coffee.)
xo with a vengeance,
-c
i've been having debilitating foot cramps today. too much baclava while laying in bed watching grey's/criminal minds/dexter will do that to you apparently. i haven't even had a day to do single-girl shit in forever, so the gods of fitness can kiss my ass. in a similar vein, i had checkers for dinner tonight. fail fail FAILLLL.
tomorrow i'll be working, aka tell my boss how to spell things like "menu" and "verizon", going to 2 classes, gettin muh bangs trimmed, seeing Easy A with some russian bitch <3, and COAT SHOPPING! that's one of the things i love about living in florida-- you can put off buying freakishly expensive winter garments until way later than just about anyone else in the usa. that, my friend, is the win of the day.
also, a note completely worthy of passiveaggressivenotes.com fully popped up in the kitchen today. "the coffeepot has white mold in it. please clean it out." before you go "wow, that's pretty gross and actually a totally reasonable statement", consider 4 things:
1. it's my fucking coffeepot and
2. you don't even USE IT and
3. i've been listening to you have orgasms for a week and somehow still functioning without coffee for long enough that the remnants have grown mold. THAT IS PRETTY FUCKING IMPRESSIVE. so,
4. suck my dick. because i can write passive aggressive notes too. stay tuned... ;)
off to work on a project due friday that i procrastinated. (who, ME? procrastinate?! wash your mouth out with moldy coffee.)
xo with a vengeance,
-c
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
dear roommates,
if you're going to fuck each other every night behind the backs of me and your other roommate (who would be totally fine with your torrid lesbian affair, by the way. we are very accepting people), you might want to keep the incredibly loud screaming orgasms to a minimum. and by minimum, i mean "i really don't want to fucking hear that ever again". this is upsetting to the max.
how am i supposed to study when there is porn happening approx 6 feet and 2 shitty doors away from me?
fml,
c
how am i supposed to study when there is porn happening approx 6 feet and 2 shitty doors away from me?
fml,
c
Sunday, October 24, 2010
i go to the barn because i like the
decent weekend.
friday night: angry drinking and pretending to be single until j called and i realized that i had literally nothing to be mad at him about. why do i do that? tried to go to a party, upon arrival realized that the "party" was like 15 trashed scene kids with small pants and ironic tattoos, minus beer. OH wait, there was also a bad. of like 7 trashed scene kids with small pants, ironic tattoos, and voices similar to marge simpson during allergy season. =fucking kill me. so we left, went back to his place (eh? ehhh? elbow nudge) and then passed out. disappointing but i'm not complaining.
NOW i am complaining: saturday was a food festival that i'd been looking forward to FOREVER and we agreed to go. j still hasn't met my mom, and she was going to be there and i thought it would be basically the easiest way for me to introduce them: midday, food everywhere, beer even more everywhere. instead, he and his stoner friends got blazed OUT OF THEIR MINDS and were an hour and half late picking me up. i had even told him that my mom would be there... hint. she's awesome and not even scary so this really pissed me off. i like my mom a lot and i like him a lot, so i want them to at least have the opportunity to like each other. but clearly when he's powersmoked for like 2 hours i'm not going to drag him up to my mom looking homeless and be like "REMEMBER THE GUY I'VE BEEN CRYING/SMILING/OBSESSING OVER SINCE MARCH? WELP, HERE HE IS! sure, he's wearing a tank top and mostly staring at the ground, but don't let that affect your opinion or anything."
ugh. frustrating to say the least. needless to say i planned an evening that didn't include him f
or saturday. i was still kind of put off by the fact that he didn't ask what i was doing/ tell me what he was doing. (of COURSE i knew via stalkbook that one of his close friends was having a bday party and that's where he would be. but he didn't know that i knew that! i hope. god i'm creepy.) so naturally i did what any relationship-retarded 20 year old would do and drunkenly smiled at everything with a pulse at the bars, gave my number to a deliciously attractive grizzly bear-esque bartender, and replied in the flirtatiously shocked negative when a particularly forward gentleman inquired "ay, you got a boyfriend that lets you go out like this?"
sent pathetic text message. "you havins a good nigh?"
called when he didn't not respond within the 10 minute acceptable text-me-back window. he is at party. does not know when he will be leaving. will call me if it's not too late.
launched into self-destructive tailspin involving liquor and beer IN THE SAME BEVERAGE: it's called loaded corona, a corona with a shot of lemon rum instead of a lime. holy shit dangerous.
woke up flat on my back, in bed, fully clothed in fancy top, skinny jeans and stilettos. 6 new text messages. 0 are from j. 2 are from grizzlytender. yum. stripped, fell in lump back into bed and sent plea for "gatorade, pepto and a cheese stick" to fb, which he proceeded to LIKE without bringing me ANY OF THE ABOVE ITEMS. you live 45 seconds away! help a fucking sister out! like that's shit that i would do without even a suggestion. it's because i'm nice, and i like doing things to make other people happy. i think at this point he's just too stoned and lazy to be the person that i liked so much last semester. definitely falls into the huge unfortunate whomp category. because i still do like him, clearly. but i don't want to date THAT guy, who is irresponsible and honestly kind of selfish.
jesus i need to go to bed. 2 tests and a lab report due tuesday, 1 test wednesday, project due in a week- and of course all i did today was fbstalk and write this crazy bitchy rambling post. yet another huge unfortunate whomp.
yours in "relationship" limbo (or maybe just hell),
-c
friday night: angry drinking and pretending to be single until j called and i realized that i had literally nothing to be mad at him about. why do i do that? tried to go to a party, upon arrival realized that the "party" was like 15 trashed scene kids with small pants and ironic tattoos, minus beer. OH wait, there was also a bad. of like 7 trashed scene kids with small pants, ironic tattoos, and voices similar to marge simpson during allergy season. =fucking kill me. so we left, went back to his place (eh? ehhh? elbow nudge) and then passed out. disappointing but i'm not complaining.
NOW i am complaining: saturday was a food festival that i'd been looking forward to FOREVER and we agreed to go. j still hasn't met my mom, and she was going to be there and i thought it would be basically the easiest way for me to introduce them: midday, food everywhere, beer even more everywhere. instead, he and his stoner friends got blazed OUT OF THEIR MINDS and were an hour and half late picking me up. i had even told him that my mom would be there... hint. she's awesome and not even scary so this really pissed me off. i like my mom a lot and i like him a lot, so i want them to at least have the opportunity to like each other. but clearly when he's powersmoked for like 2 hours i'm not going to drag him up to my mom looking homeless and be like "REMEMBER THE GUY I'VE BEEN CRYING/SMILING/OBSESSING OVER SINCE MARCH? WELP, HERE HE IS! sure, he's wearing a tank top and mostly staring at the ground, but don't let that affect your opinion or anything."
ugh. frustrating to say the least. needless to say i planned an evening that didn't include him f
or saturday. i was still kind of put off by the fact that he didn't ask what i was doing/ tell me what he was doing. (of COURSE i knew via stalkbook that one of his close friends was having a bday party and that's where he would be. but he didn't know that i knew that! i hope. god i'm creepy.) so naturally i did what any relationship-retarded 20 year old would do and drunkenly smiled at everything with a pulse at the bars, gave my number to a deliciously attractive grizzly bear-esque bartender, and replied in the flirtatiously shocked negative when a particularly forward gentleman inquired "ay, you got a boyfriend that lets you go out like this?"
sent pathetic text message. "you havins a good nigh?"
called when he didn't not respond within the 10 minute acceptable text-me-back window. he is at party. does not know when he will be leaving. will call me if it's not too late.
launched into self-destructive tailspin involving liquor and beer IN THE SAME BEVERAGE: it's called loaded corona, a corona with a shot of lemon rum instead of a lime. holy shit dangerous.
woke up flat on my back, in bed, fully clothed in fancy top, skinny jeans and stilettos. 6 new text messages. 0 are from j. 2 are from grizzlytender. yum. stripped, fell in lump back into bed and sent plea for "gatorade, pepto and a cheese stick" to fb, which he proceeded to LIKE without bringing me ANY OF THE ABOVE ITEMS. you live 45 seconds away! help a fucking sister out! like that's shit that i would do without even a suggestion. it's because i'm nice, and i like doing things to make other people happy. i think at this point he's just too stoned and lazy to be the person that i liked so much last semester. definitely falls into the huge unfortunate whomp category. because i still do like him, clearly. but i don't want to date THAT guy, who is irresponsible and honestly kind of selfish.
jesus i need to go to bed. 2 tests and a lab report due tuesday, 1 test wednesday, project due in a week- and of course all i did today was fbstalk and write this crazy bitchy rambling post. yet another huge unfortunate whomp.
yours in "relationship" limbo (or maybe just hell),
-c
Sunday, October 17, 2010
in our parents' bedrooms, and the bedrooms of our friends.
welp, here's the post i originally started writing like an hour ago. i no longer know whether this weekend was awesome. also i may be having a mental breakdown and really need a glass of wine:
my study abroad program for psych in london is officially pointless because i only have one more psych class to take and it's not offered over there. i have electives out the ass so that option is out. basically my plan now is to finish college, live and die in the same hick ass ridiculous town i was born in 20 years ago, having never been out of the united states except for the 6 minutes i was in canada on a cruise this summer.
this weekend was amazing, though. went out with SH on friday. got tipsy enough to decide for good that bars can be almost exactly paralleled to grasslands populated by starving lions searching for the prettiest/most anorexic buffalo to kill and devour in a single fell swoop. also observed that most guys would rather amputate their fingers one by one with a dull knife than even INTRODUCE THEMSELVES TO ME as they try to maneuver their weiners into SH's practically-married mouth while she continues to talk to them like they actually want to have a conversation.
needless to say i had a few more drinks after those happy realizations. i know it's stupid. i'm committing all of the logical fallacies in my life that i learn not to commit in my research classes. but when every fucking time i go out, i end up chugging my drink and staring at my lap pretending to text while some retarded douchebag tries to get inside of my best friend that ALREADY HAS A BOYFRIEND instead of even looking at me? it's kind of hard to ignore that.
wow, this doesn't really sound like an amazing weekend at all.
but saturday morning i tailgated with j, his roommates and their miami friends that were in town for the weekend. (have i mentioned that he and i are back together? we are. he makes me happy and i am doner than done with crying myself to sleep like a whiny child every night. probs still going to die alone but at least i don’t have to sleep that way for now.) the tailgate was really fun and we went to half of the game too, which we won. yay college football! then we took a nap (together- cheesy coupley shit is my fav), i went home to shower, went back over and started drinking again, yada yada. soon after, some drunk ass guy who referred to himself only as “Uncle Dave” wandered into their house and insisted that we were way more fun than his niece and her friends, who had already passed out, so he was going to hang out with us.
BIGGEST. DOUCHE. EVER.
j and i were kicking his team's ass at bpong so he started making really lewd gestures (think the most retarded immature frat boy ever) and talking really rude shit TO ME, the only female in the house— i almost punched him. you’re like 45 and completely bald and making vag-licking gestures at a 20 year old girl? re-evaluate that life, bucko. so we left “Uncle Dave” and went to 2 parties on my street, did the party thing and drank a shit ton, walked there and back with our arms around each other. like i said… he makes me happy. i’m happier spending time with him than i am almost ever. it scares me because i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing or what the fuck he’s doing but i just need it right now. if i have to go through again what i went through the first time i broke up with him, i am probably never going to date anyone else ever, but we'll have to see i guess. also it doesn’t help that out of all of the weiners i have experienced, this one is THE BEST ONE EVER. i’m like pussywhipped… but the girl version. dickwhipped? sounds like a felony charge.
either way, karma is a stupid cunt. i know i’m going to learn something from this. i just don’t know yet if it’s going to be “how to respect yourself, ask for what you want in relationships, and NOT settle for ANYTHING LESS THAN WHAT YOU DESERVE! YoU'rE bEaUtIfUl!!1!” or “how to stretch one can of cat food over an entire week because you’re too depressed to put on pants and go to publix to buy more for Hypothetical Cat Vlad so your only ally in life doesn’t die of starvation in your smelly, unshowered arms”.
whatever. i loved yesterday and it loved me too, god damn it. i’m going to go listen to broken social scene, nitpick small details of text messages between me and j, give myself an ulcer/heart attack, and not eat for 2 weeks because i bought my halloween costume today and it’s this (the black one- natch): http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41SpcPxIm1L.jpg
yikes. writing this has made me REALLY sad about my standards for an “amazing” weekend.
maybe on the next awesome weekend i'll get hit by a train,
c <3
my study abroad program for psych in london is officially pointless because i only have one more psych class to take and it's not offered over there. i have electives out the ass so that option is out. basically my plan now is to finish college, live and die in the same hick ass ridiculous town i was born in 20 years ago, having never been out of the united states except for the 6 minutes i was in canada on a cruise this summer.
this weekend was amazing, though. went out with SH on friday. got tipsy enough to decide for good that bars can be almost exactly paralleled to grasslands populated by starving lions searching for the prettiest/most anorexic buffalo to kill and devour in a single fell swoop. also observed that most guys would rather amputate their fingers one by one with a dull knife than even INTRODUCE THEMSELVES TO ME as they try to maneuver their weiners into SH's practically-married mouth while she continues to talk to them like they actually want to have a conversation.
needless to say i had a few more drinks after those happy realizations. i know it's stupid. i'm committing all of the logical fallacies in my life that i learn not to commit in my research classes. but when every fucking time i go out, i end up chugging my drink and staring at my lap pretending to text while some retarded douchebag tries to get inside of my best friend that ALREADY HAS A BOYFRIEND instead of even looking at me? it's kind of hard to ignore that.
wow, this doesn't really sound like an amazing weekend at all.
but saturday morning i tailgated with j, his roommates and their miami friends that were in town for the weekend. (have i mentioned that he and i are back together? we are. he makes me happy and i am doner than done with crying myself to sleep like a whiny child every night. probs still going to die alone but at least i don’t have to sleep that way for now.) the tailgate was really fun and we went to half of the game too, which we won. yay college football! then we took a nap (together- cheesy coupley shit is my fav), i went home to shower, went back over and started drinking again, yada yada. soon after, some drunk ass guy who referred to himself only as “Uncle Dave” wandered into their house and insisted that we were way more fun than his niece and her friends, who had already passed out, so he was going to hang out with us.
BIGGEST. DOUCHE. EVER.
j and i were kicking his team's ass at bpong so he started making really lewd gestures (think the most retarded immature frat boy ever) and talking really rude shit TO ME, the only female in the house— i almost punched him. you’re like 45 and completely bald and making vag-licking gestures at a 20 year old girl? re-evaluate that life, bucko. so we left “Uncle Dave” and went to 2 parties on my street, did the party thing and drank a shit ton, walked there and back with our arms around each other. like i said… he makes me happy. i’m happier spending time with him than i am almost ever. it scares me because i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing or what the fuck he’s doing but i just need it right now. if i have to go through again what i went through the first time i broke up with him, i am probably never going to date anyone else ever, but we'll have to see i guess. also it doesn’t help that out of all of the weiners i have experienced, this one is THE BEST ONE EVER. i’m like pussywhipped… but the girl version. dickwhipped? sounds like a felony charge.
either way, karma is a stupid cunt. i know i’m going to learn something from this. i just don’t know yet if it’s going to be “how to respect yourself, ask for what you want in relationships, and NOT settle for ANYTHING LESS THAN WHAT YOU DESERVE! YoU'rE bEaUtIfUl!!1!” or “how to stretch one can of cat food over an entire week because you’re too depressed to put on pants and go to publix to buy more for Hypothetical Cat Vlad so your only ally in life doesn’t die of starvation in your smelly, unshowered arms”.
whatever. i loved yesterday and it loved me too, god damn it. i’m going to go listen to broken social scene, nitpick small details of text messages between me and j, give myself an ulcer/heart attack, and not eat for 2 weeks because i bought my halloween costume today and it’s this (the black one- natch): http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41SpcPxIm1L.jpg
yikes. writing this has made me REALLY sad about my standards for an “amazing” weekend.
maybe on the next awesome weekend i'll get hit by a train,
c <3
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