10/29/00

i’ve been in the worst funk (for lack of better words) all weekend long. i’m guessing it’s just because it’s halloween weekend and there hasn’t been jackshit i want to do here, and because i was at home having too much fun last weekend which makes this weekend even worse in comparison, and because i have a mound of homework and no motivation, and because even my fucking MOTHER is having more fun than me, and was ever so kind enough as to rub it in my face in the midst of her tipsiness. my ten year old sister even surpasses me in coolness; she was having a party with her best friends this weekend, something that i would give anything to be doing right about now. but in any case, i hate being down and out. it irritates me to no end, and i’m not very good at being unhappy or wallowing or any of that jazz. so, i’ve made up my mind that tomorrow i’m going to buck up and get the show back on the road. two days of feeling shitty is more than enough. on to better things.

i’ve been talking to exes lately. well, two, to be exact. the conversation with the first one was brief and friendly and plastic; barbie doll smile-esque. after formalities and cordialness we quickly ran out of things to say. i made a comment, something like, “once upon a time there was a guy named randy (sorry; names have not been changed) who was talkative...” and his reply was that it’s hard to talk to me now, after everything. hrm. this is why i stay away from relationships; i’m tired of seeing good friendships butchered by them. the second ex conversation was much different. we talked for hours, and it was just like old times...all the same inside jokes, the familiarity, the understanding...it felt like coming home. and at the end, there was the hesitant pause, about thirty breathless seconds, where we both knew we should say... i literally held my tongue immobile in between my teeth, just in case. it was so good to talk to him, i won’t think about how it most likely won’t happen again anytime soon. i have to keep reminding myself that that’s not what i want anymore. (i can’t have it, anyway.)

things i’ve been meaning to say:

to the twenty-seven year old guy hitting on me the other night: give up. you don’t have a chance. no, really.

greg: you rock me. mwah.

jess: just you and me, punk rock girl.

marc, lindsey, crissy, kellie, emily, eva, and all my other muthafuckas back in danville: my birthday is coming up. guess what i want this year? all of you guys with a big bow tied around you. come up here.

everyone else: go here. it rules; the theme song absolutely cracks me up. (thanks, nathan.) and, oh yeh, my birthday is coming up. feel free to send cards, money, gifts of adoration, naked punk rock boys in cakes, etc.

that will be all.