last glass...dusty buckets...parched e-lips...sponge...drip...drop

2001-12-11 - 11:55 p.m.: cod liver oil

So today was great, but tonight sucks. I got a 4.0++ (woohoo!) on my "bigass" final paper on Oscar Wilde and Northrop Frye... really nice comments, too.... turned in my final final version of my play (ack) and dined on Krispy Kremes (yumm!) with my all-too-wonderful classmates.... got home.. put up some X-mas decorations (the tree is SOO BIG!) and practiced French... doot di doo...

...Then I find an email from Lush (ooh, yay!) saying, "Actually, I'm going to have to slough you off this weekend, cuz I'm a prick..." (or something to that effect. Maybe there was a dash or two in there.) Arrgh. It's bad enough that he admits to 'sloughing me off' (for a dumbass party... which there are hundreds of, every day in EL)... but did he have to say 'cuz?' HOW REVOLTING!! ACK! Seriously, though... I hate this. I SO want to be the "oh, yeah... laid-back, lah dee dah" girlfriend... but I can't do it FOREVER.... then it starts to seem a little pathological. Forgets my birthday... fine. "Sloughs me off" once. Aww, don't mention it. Twice. Three times. Fine. Whatever. I can deal with it. But I'm seriously starting to wonder if maybe I'm victimizing the poor boy... monopolizing his favorite half-weekend of every third month. There's no other explanation. What the hell!? (So... this is where the cool, all-knowing, gum-chewing, nicotine-stained girl in the teen-sitcom tells me, "Honey, take a hint. Get the message. It's hard but sometimes you just have to face the facts. Etc.") It's the terminology that kills me. "Sloughing off." Do people not know how powerful words are? Do they not understand that even when used jokingly words have meaning? Do they not understand that there is a whole psychology behind their vocabulary? Sloughing off. Like dead skin. Great. Thank you.

Asshole.

So... enough of that. No... wait a second. I just read what I just wrote and just realized how utterly pathetic it makes me sound. "But it's not like that.. no, really! We're in love!" What the hell am I doing? I DON'T WANT TO BE THIS PERSON!! I DON'T WANT TO PLAY THIS GAME! I'VE SEEN IT BEFORE IN 1,000,000+ STUPID MOVIES AND IT TURNS OUT SHITTY, EVERY TIME! God. Why can't I just STAY a KID, where everything is simple and there is no such thing as an "ulterior motive..." when people want you to leave, they tell you... when you grow apart from someone, you stop inviting them over... when you're mad at someone, you whack him with your favorite doll, or truck, or baseball bat, then apologize. I'm sick of getting whacked, then smiling. Nodding. Being nice and easy. I don't want a boyfriend anymore. I want a GOOD FRIEND. (Who I can sleep with, every now and then. :O) I think I had that... and I think I mistook it for being "in love"... and I think it's gotten me all tangled up in something too grown-up for me to handle. I'm not prepared. I feel like a bag of mush... with very thin lining... any little poke and I'll just explode... gush out all over the place. Maybe I should look on the bright side. If he can screw me over like this and not even feel bad, then *I* know our relationship is not "formal," or "constraining" or dictated by societal expectations (i.e. courtesy).... OR, I could look at this as his way of *testing* me... relieving his own, personal anxieties about my loyalty, my fidelity. "Will she freak out or give me my space? Does she love me no matter what or will she use THIS time as an excuse to get rid of me?" And thus, I can rev up my nurturing, maternal engines and prepare to hand this poor little boy, once again, my heart on a platter. "So glad I can reassure you, dear. Have some more." Whatever. This is how I maneuver my life with a big, dumb-looking grin on my face. God. How'd I get to be such a friggin' idiot?

Well... it all started when...

Like anyone wants to hear this. :o) *I* don't even want to hear it.

So... I guess that makes:

3. I am a scrawny, slack-jawed PUSHOVER who can't decide whether or not she's loved, and so decides to believe that she *is* because it's easier on her ego (which, sadly enough, is slightly deformed and ragged), but continues to work toward earning said love, *just in case*. It's kinda like.... people who believe in god...when they really don't.... because, damn it, they're not sure either way and, when it comes down to it, what have you got to lose? Hmmm... integrity, self-esteem, intellect, motive... time. But still... what if? What if it's real? Then....

You know the score.

Talk to you later.... I'll be all aglow... beaming with joy and affection, again. ;o)

inward...outward