First: Thank you to everyone for the birthday wishes. :) Es muy bueno. I, too, am hoping for a Cubs win on my birthday.
Second: I AM SO FUCKING TIRED. I can't work up any excitement today at all. My mom wants to know what I want. Hell if I know. She asked me if I wanted to go out to dinner for my birthday tonight. I told her probably not because I'm tired after school (YOU try prancing about and making a pack of angsty teens want to learn something at the end of the fucking school year. You'd be tired, too!). My dad just called to see if I wanted to go out to dinner with him. Nope. Too damn tired. I told him Friday.
Seriously. I just had a peanut butter & jelly sandwich because that's all I could work up the energy to make. I just want to sit here and wait for my Cubs game to come on the tv and watch it.
I'm looking forward to hanging out with Anne on Saturday in Chicago. But tonight? Just tired.
Also, a day or so ago, I'd emailed Ronnie (he of "the social experiment") to mention the comics of mine he still has. I got a text from him today on my way to school. He had forgotten he had them and said he could either meet up with me or fedex them. I didn't have time to respond, so I just put my phone down. A minute or so later...another text. This time saying "Sorry I didn't k.i.t. [keep in touch]. Been dating someone."
*blank look*
Like...I fucking care? That just pisses me off. I mean, I KNOW I'm making something out of nothing here, but give me a break. It was fairly obvious neither of us was really into the other. Fine. You don't have to fucking tell me that. I haven't called you either, numbnuts! Just give me back my shit, that's all I want. What? Are you fucking gloating or something?
Dear Ronnie, these are the reasons I can think of for not dating you right off the top of my head:
1. "Ronnie". Ronnie (unless it is followed by "Santo" or "Cedeno") just sounds infantile and like your mother still washes your tightie-whities for you. Get a fucking man's name, would you?
2. You are too motherfucking hairy.
3. You talk with a sort of lisp.
4. You don't care for baseball in general, the Cubs obviously would not be something we have in common.
5. You're shortish.
6. The way you had your apartment decorated was cheap, tawdry and screamed of 80s hotel.
Blah blah blah. "I've been dating someone." Fuck you AND the horse you rode in on! I love how it's so easy for other people to just find some schmuck to date. GREAT FOR YOU.
Dating sucks. I will never be successful at it. I'm angry and I don't even know why. I don't know why I should care. My life is good and I don't need a man to fuck that up. Still, I can't help being lonely every now and then.
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may..." said Shakespeare ("To the maidens, to make much of time")
Pretty soon I'm just going to be old and wrinkled. None of it matters. I shouldn't care. I wouldn't know what love is, anyway. I haven't ever loved anyone. Thought I did, but it wasn't. Certainly no one has loved me in that way, either. I don't even know how to love some one like that. Hell, I couldn't even function at just random sex. I can't disassociate myself enough to just fuck someone and be done with it. I'm horrible at sex anyway. It's just bodies slapping away and people making ridiculous noises. The thought of exposing my various flabby pale bits to someone for their scrutiny and pawing kind of makes me want to hide. I don't want to be thought of as lacking or sub-par. I have quite enough of that as it is, with guys always seeming to find something better.
Guys I have liked, never liked me or just liked me as a regular person. Some guys that have liked me, I haven't liked in that sense back OR they were crazy (Comic Shop Guy from two years ago would be a good example of that).
I'm just going to stick with my nice, tidy, sanitary and completely safe obsession with Mark DeRosa. Why? Because imagination is king and reality sucks.
God, I just want Saturday to be here so I can get blitzed with Anne.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
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