And if he is not ready, now or never, I have to accept that. I can't keep talking about him to his friends, his family, my friends, my family. I need to stop. I need to let go.
If I love him, I need to let go.
Let go.....stop this...
Monday, November 9, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Insomniac
I'm not a real insomniac. I just think I am. No, the truth is that I am not doing my homework, and I don't know why. Well, I do know why--I won't sign the hell off facebook because I'm just too interested in looking at all the people (not) in my life. But I'm tired, and I have school and work tomorrow like every single freaking day. God, I'm tired. I wish I could just sleep til forever... which I guess would be dying, but. It wouldn't feel like that. You would just feel psyched at the prospect of getting to sleep til forever. So now I'm thinking about skipping, but I can't really do that... I skipped all my classes on Monday because I was too tired from going to Plymouth the night before and coming back early that morning. So I missed my advising session, and now I have to scramble like an idiot to make an appointment, and be surely told that they can't do squat cos I never handed in my immunization form BECAUSE I'm a lazy idiot that never scheduled a physical back in June when I usually do for camp. So this is all counter-intuitive to the fact that I'm an incredible slacker who doesn't get anything done for herself unless there are very immediate consequences, but for now, since I'm young, there aren't, really. Jesus Christ, what is my problem?
If I skip:
-I won't hand in my English work, and will HAVE to do it that night, and e-mail it
-I won't get the math assignment, and will receive a 0
-I will miss the Anthropology mid-term
-I will get some sleep, but still have to wake up at 12 to get to work on time
Okay, so basically I just need to suck it up and get my ass to school in approximately 3 hours. I need to get off this, do my work, take a shower, drink a shitload of coffee, go to class, go to advising, go get my check, deposit check, go to work, suffer, go to the fahking garment district to get a stupid costume, go to the supermarket to get the last remaining brunch things, and thennnnn yeah. go to bed. work saturday, halloween party at basically a stranger's house, get wasted, come back here with some friends, get more wasted, go to bed, birthday brunch in the morning, the end.
If I skip:
-I won't hand in my English work, and will HAVE to do it that night, and e-mail it
-I won't get the math assignment, and will receive a 0
-I will miss the Anthropology mid-term
-I will get some sleep, but still have to wake up at 12 to get to work on time
Okay, so basically I just need to suck it up and get my ass to school in approximately 3 hours. I need to get off this, do my work, take a shower, drink a shitload of coffee, go to class, go to advising, go get my check, deposit check, go to work, suffer, go to the fahking garment district to get a stupid costume, go to the supermarket to get the last remaining brunch things, and thennnnn yeah. go to bed. work saturday, halloween party at basically a stranger's house, get wasted, come back here with some friends, get more wasted, go to bed, birthday brunch in the morning, the end.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
right on.
So today is my birthday.
I usually try to avoid mentioning this, because I hate when other girls do. I think it sounds petty and annoying, and I am just oh so into not being petty and annoying because I'm think I'm soooo above that. But come on, I'm just like everyone else. I'm way into myself. Just look how many times I've just said the word "I" and all it's variants. I fucking love me.
So I guess I'm posting in this very scantily clad blog because I have a lot on my mind that I can't put into Facebook notes because they're just too ugh. But I put them here rather than a real journal because I subconsciously hope that someone will read them. How sad.
Things on my mind:
a. The ever-pressing issue of the Patterson boy.
b. The not-so-pressing, but still distressing issue of how I should feel about my ex.
c. The fact that I'm an academic and financial failure.
Let's begin.
a. So I was kindof, not really, dating Bobby Patterson for the first couple weeks of October. And it was intense, but exciting. And basically, he said some very pretty things that I fell for, and now I've gone and fallen for him even though I should know better. And its funny because the whole time this fiasco was unfolding, I was quietly telling myself to be careful. Because if the past is any indicator of the future, I knew that he would most likely fuck me over. And guess what! He did. Like I knew, like his mom, like his brothers, like everyone KNEW he would. Because he's just so obsessed with going through his little period of self-loathing. Which, as Grace says, is very romantic of him, but come on. Cut the shit. I know him. I barely know him, but I know him. I know every single tick and fold of his soul. I don't know why or how, but I just do. And I know that this isn't how it's supposed to be. Maybe we're not supposed to be together, but it is not supposed to be like this, both of us bitter and unsettled with all these emotions loose between us. It's interesting--I cry about this almost every night. And yet, I understand what he's saying. I just don't think they're the right words. I don't think it's denial, it's just recognition. Or maybe I've gone completely up the bend.
b. I broke up with my boyfriend of one year, three months, and ten days, Jon Coombs on October 4th, 2009. It was a gentle breakup, but I caused a lot of pain. I feel like a complete and total bitch because I don't feel worse about it. I know I should. He was a huge part of my life, and has given me so much. He made me into a genuinely happy person, and I'm so fortunate. But I know myself, and I know that things change, people change. What made me a happy girlfriend before, didn't make me happy now. And I know that I would have ended up resenting the circumstances life was giving us--an ocean's distance. Which would have translated into resentment for him, even though it would never have been his fault. I'm just not strong enough. So I ended it like a cruel bitch.
Maybe this is what Bobby is talking about--he knows what will happen, and so he's doing everyone a great big favor. But I guess I'm blinded, and can't see it that way.
c. I have a big refund check sitting in the Bursar's office at school, but I'm too fucking lazy to go pick it up, so I'm spending my checking account like a Suffolk girl. I should go get it tomorrow...god I'm lazy.
Ok, I'm done. I'm an idiot, but what's new. A newly minted 20 year old idiot. whoooo!
I usually try to avoid mentioning this, because I hate when other girls do. I think it sounds petty and annoying, and I am just oh so into not being petty and annoying because I'm think I'm soooo above that. But come on, I'm just like everyone else. I'm way into myself. Just look how many times I've just said the word "I" and all it's variants. I fucking love me.
So I guess I'm posting in this very scantily clad blog because I have a lot on my mind that I can't put into Facebook notes because they're just too ugh. But I put them here rather than a real journal because I subconsciously hope that someone will read them. How sad.
Things on my mind:
a. The ever-pressing issue of the Patterson boy.
b. The not-so-pressing, but still distressing issue of how I should feel about my ex.
c. The fact that I'm an academic and financial failure.
Let's begin.
a. So I was kindof, not really, dating Bobby Patterson for the first couple weeks of October. And it was intense, but exciting. And basically, he said some very pretty things that I fell for, and now I've gone and fallen for him even though I should know better. And its funny because the whole time this fiasco was unfolding, I was quietly telling myself to be careful. Because if the past is any indicator of the future, I knew that he would most likely fuck me over. And guess what! He did. Like I knew, like his mom, like his brothers, like everyone KNEW he would. Because he's just so obsessed with going through his little period of self-loathing. Which, as Grace says, is very romantic of him, but come on. Cut the shit. I know him. I barely know him, but I know him. I know every single tick and fold of his soul. I don't know why or how, but I just do. And I know that this isn't how it's supposed to be. Maybe we're not supposed to be together, but it is not supposed to be like this, both of us bitter and unsettled with all these emotions loose between us. It's interesting--I cry about this almost every night. And yet, I understand what he's saying. I just don't think they're the right words. I don't think it's denial, it's just recognition. Or maybe I've gone completely up the bend.
b. I broke up with my boyfriend of one year, three months, and ten days, Jon Coombs on October 4th, 2009. It was a gentle breakup, but I caused a lot of pain. I feel like a complete and total bitch because I don't feel worse about it. I know I should. He was a huge part of my life, and has given me so much. He made me into a genuinely happy person, and I'm so fortunate. But I know myself, and I know that things change, people change. What made me a happy girlfriend before, didn't make me happy now. And I know that I would have ended up resenting the circumstances life was giving us--an ocean's distance. Which would have translated into resentment for him, even though it would never have been his fault. I'm just not strong enough. So I ended it like a cruel bitch.
Maybe this is what Bobby is talking about--he knows what will happen, and so he's doing everyone a great big favor. But I guess I'm blinded, and can't see it that way.
c. I have a big refund check sitting in the Bursar's office at school, but I'm too fucking lazy to go pick it up, so I'm spending my checking account like a Suffolk girl. I should go get it tomorrow...god I'm lazy.
Ok, I'm done. I'm an idiot, but what's new. A newly minted 20 year old idiot. whoooo!
Saturday, April 18, 2009
wok wok wok
it's 10:30 am on saturday morning, and i've slept for about an hour since coming in last night. i think i'm still wired from iced coffee. is it just me, or does it seems like dunkin donut's caramel coffee tastes a crapload like raspberry? the flavors are bumpin uglies. anyway, i'm still all jittery from seeing dave coulier last night at the improv asylum! i'll never be able to watch full house the same way after watching him do an impression of a don commenting on how the disco ball symbolized a fertile, shiny ballsack. noooo uncle joey!!
i wonder how narcisstic having a blog is? the roommates and i pretty much get all of our enjoyment out of mocking our suffuck classmates and their narcissitic ways-especially one in particular-but really, doesn't having a blog and facebook and twitter breed this behavior? i think our generation was mostly raised to be overly confident in ourselves, i.e. don't worry about your childhood obesity, jimmy! you'll grow up to be the president someday! and so we believe that people actually DO want to know your deepest darkest secrets like what's to your left RIGHT NOW. of course, i know there's all sorts of flaws in this little rant. i have a facebook. i blogged for four years before this one, and will be the first to admit that it was full of bullshit about boys and pain and combining the two into emo cookies. but i don't know. i guess i'm just interested in the drive that's behind people craving the world knowing all about their lives via modem. i miss letter writing.
i need to take a shower so all the target-goers don't draw back in horror at my eye boogers and rat's nest hair. i'm not even really sure why we're going--i think to waste julie's ANT's gas and look at shower curtains for next year. ahhhhh next year! it should be fun learning how to cook and riding a bike everywhere. granted, i think we might get mugged-but who cares! i have my own place! well we. me, koz, julie, and gille. and the cat that we're getting who already has a name (lily) despite the ongoing war about its hair distribution.
holy fuck this is boring
am i always like this? probs.
time to get effin gorgeous and face the masses
-b
i wonder how narcisstic having a blog is? the roommates and i pretty much get all of our enjoyment out of mocking our suffuck classmates and their narcissitic ways-especially one in particular-but really, doesn't having a blog and facebook and twitter breed this behavior? i think our generation was mostly raised to be overly confident in ourselves, i.e. don't worry about your childhood obesity, jimmy! you'll grow up to be the president someday! and so we believe that people actually DO want to know your deepest darkest secrets like what's to your left RIGHT NOW. of course, i know there's all sorts of flaws in this little rant. i have a facebook. i blogged for four years before this one, and will be the first to admit that it was full of bullshit about boys and pain and combining the two into emo cookies. but i don't know. i guess i'm just interested in the drive that's behind people craving the world knowing all about their lives via modem. i miss letter writing.
i need to take a shower so all the target-goers don't draw back in horror at my eye boogers and rat's nest hair. i'm not even really sure why we're going--i think to waste julie's ANT's gas and look at shower curtains for next year. ahhhhh next year! it should be fun learning how to cook and riding a bike everywhere. granted, i think we might get mugged-but who cares! i have my own place! well we. me, koz, julie, and gille. and the cat that we're getting who already has a name (lily) despite the ongoing war about its hair distribution.
holy fuck this is boring
am i always like this? probs.
time to get effin gorgeous and face the masses
-b
new stuff
i don't know what to write for my first entry in this new blog, so i'll just say hello. i kept one all throughout high school but it was pretty much filled with annoying teenage angst. not that i think i'm any different now.
who knows, it might get more interesting.
who knows, it might get more interesting.
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