Saturday, February 26, 2011

Getting My Groove Back:


Kind of a silly phrase, yes.
It reminds me of a 50 year old woman getting laid for the first time after a painful divorce.
Yeah, no.
Definately getting my groove back on a much smaller scale.
I've been feeling good all day today.
No incessant, nagging thoughts of DisasterCrush1.
No thoughts whatsoever about DisasterCrush2.
I just did my makeup in the laziest way ever & barely brushed out my hair, but for some reason, I was happy with what I saw for the first time in a few weeks.
I took a lot of time to make myself pretty last Thursday & though it didn't exactly backfire, it didn't really work in my favor either.
Again, I'm not sure what "my favor" actually qualifies as.
Because I didn't tell you about any of the shit that went down with DisasterCrush1, this may seem a bit confusing as to why I'm so fucking flustered by the mere thought of him.
Let's put it this way: I've undoubtedly made this boy out to be my dream-guy...& he still kind of is. He's stunning, funny, intelligent, listens to the best music on earth & exremely friendly.
HOWEVER,
there is no possible way for me to ever be with him.
Like, ever.
So, things working in "my favor" could mean very few things.
I believe I told myself I could deal with just being friends with him. After all, there are very few self-proclaimed metalheads in this area.
I still don't know if that's possible.
Can you turn an insatiably passionate crush into a weak "what's up?", buddy-buddy friendship?
I don't know.
So, I've decided to give up the ghost.
For now, I'm trying to appreciate the good things about myself.
I'm clearly not meant to be with this guy whom I feel so much for, so I need to move on.
Like I said, DisasterCrush1 is, to me at least, the best looking guy at my school.
I think maybe that's the hardest thing to deal with...but I have to deal with it.
I'm not sure how well this whole "appreciating myself" thing will go & I know on Thursdays that ghost I'm trying so hard to give up, will come to haunt me.
But I have to try.
Try, & pray to God someone better will come along.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

My life.


I can't describe how happy these guys make me.
I almost died at Liam "waving to his fans" when they walked into Best Buy.
Again, Billy Rymer is the most attractive person since ever.

What Am I Doing?:

That seems to be the question of my life.
Why am I at school an hour earlier than I need to be?
Why did I take the time to wear a brand new outfit, do my hair & take extra pride in my makeup today?
Why I am on the computer in the school library, telling you all this when I have a funtional computer at home?

Because I'm fucking crazy.

Yeah, it's Forum day.
I guess I sort of got over all of the emotions that were choking me up the other day & now I'd like to think I'm somewhere back-to-good.
No promises, though.
With me, you never really know what's going to happen or how.
I'm hoping for the best case scenario.
After what happened & how I reacted, I'm not sure what the best case scenario really is, but I'm sure it's very different from the ideal.
I finished Assholes Finish First yesterday & now I'm scrambling to find another decent book that isn't one of the generic teen fiction novels that, for whatever reason, litter my bedroom.
I don't know why my body is looking forward to this class right now.
As I've said, it is one of the worst classes a person could be subjected to.
I clearly have a problem & I need to learn to control myself.
Why this school accepted me, I don't know.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Computer's Working:

Thanks to the lovely, Brandon Delaney for fixing it & providing me with funny commentary the entire time.
I'm not sure what's wrong with me lately. I'm assuming it has something to do with the afore mentioned boys but, it's really been fucking me up.
I can't even look at DisasterCrush1 without my heart beating a million times a second & feeling like I'm going to throw up.
I'm almost 20; the junior high school feelings need to go...& fast.
I'm thinking it's not a good idea to go into what happened with DisasterCrush1.
I know, I know.
It feels like I'd be treading dangerous waters.
As I've said, I've been watching Swinfan like a maniac & the last thing I need at this point in my life is to become the next Madison Bell.
One of the worst parts about being a girl is all of the messy emotions.
There's far too many of them & though we deem ourselves "the more intelligent sex", women rarely know what the fuck to do with ourselves.
My best bet at this point, is try to scratch & get glad.
Forget anything ever happened with DisasterCrush1, possibly not go to Forum anymore & go back to only relying on my iPod for love.
As far as DisasterCrush2 goes, fuck him.
He's not even worth talking about & I'm sorry I ever felt anything for him.
Anyway, now that the computer is once again up & running, hopefully shit will get a little bit more interesting.
I need to get back to me.
Boys are animals.
It'll be alright.

Monday, February 21, 2011

We Need to Talk: Part 1

This post is too big & too depressing for a common "UGH" post.
This shit is beyond me.
First & foremost, let me say that I'm okay.
No one died, no one's pregnant, the world is not ending.
But I got shot down by one fuck of a bullet last night... hypothetically speaking, of course.
You know how Hollywood spends millions & millions of dollars on certain movies, & even though it's got an all-star cast & it's been in the making for 3 years, the movie flops,
bombs,
tanks?
I've always wondered what it would feel like to be in one of those movies.
Kind of embarassing.
Annoying, because you just wasted so much time & energy on something no one even tried to give two shits about.
Angry, because you know it was not only a good movie but you're a good fucking actor & now you have this "failure" tag attached to you...even if you're the only one who can see it.
Well, I had a box office bomb yesterday.
Two, actually...I feel like Jessica Simpson.
One of my friends knows about one & another friend knows about the other. I tried to keep this one under wraps as much as possible, just in case this shit unraveled like it ended up doing.
You're aware of one a.k.a. Forum Boy (if not, revert back to the last few posts).
We'll call him, DisasterCrush1.
The only reason, you don't know about DisasterCrush2 is because I just met him 2 days ago.
Yup, two days & the shit has already bombed.
Hey, I'm a walking fuck-up. How you doin'?
I'm slightly paranoid about writing all this down here so, I'm going try to be as clear as I can without saying exactly what it was that happened.
Hopefully, you'll be able to figure it out.
Let's start with DisasterCrush2, shall we?
I met this one on Saturday in my weekend creative writing class.
Long story shy: Handsome, Dark Featured, Unbelievably Intelligent, Friendly, Older & Funny.
In other words: good catch.
Not a perfect catch (that would be DisasterCrush1) but, he was a good distraction from the egotistical shit spewing from my professor's mouth.
Following?
DisasterCrush2 blew my mind with his talk about blues music, African traditions & the Civil Rights Movement.
Not only was he articulate but he knew exactly what the fuck he was talking about.
So I told my friend we needed to have a little one on one with him after class got out...not to hit on him, more just to pick his brain.
Mistake.
My friend had read some of her work that day & DisasterCrush2 was entralled with her.
Not just her work, HER.
Did I mention my friend is married?
Very sweet & attractive girl but somewhere between me standing awkwardly in the middle of their conversation, I was hoping the diamond ring on her finger would catch a glare & blind him for a split second. Nevermind the fact it was 9:00 at night & the sun had been long since gone.
During the conversation, I believe he made eye contact with me exactly 1.5 times.
Fine, whatever. My friend is a good writer, she's pretty, she's engaging. Can't blame him for being interested.
I told myself Sunday would be better. I'd read my shit, then get a chance to talk to him after class about it...or whatever he wanted to talk about, really.
Mistake.
The teacher didn't get around to calling me to read in front of the class until class was over.
Yeah. There were like, 5 people in the room: Me, Friend, Professor, DisasterCrush2, & two more fools who didn't feel it necessary to peace out when they had the chance.
So, I read, stutter, blush, stare at the floor while the Professor tells me I'm a good writer then moves on to talking about himself again.
Class gets out & I see DisasterCrush2 looking in my direction like he has something to say.
Fuck Yessssss!
Wait...wait...Did his eyes just shift to the right of me? Did he just call my friend over? Is she walking toward him now?
Fuck Nooooo!
My friend & I park next to each other in the parking lot at school so, I thought it would be nice to wait for her so we could walk to our cars together. I'm such a good fucking person.
Mistake.
DisasterCrush2 has all kinds of things wrtitten up for my friend. Things he thought about her piece, what it reminded him of & things he thinks she should research, all scribbled messily on the yellow notepad he keeps attatched to his hip.
I stood in the corner of the room.
Like a child in time-out.
Like the Blair-Fucking-Witch Project.
I didn't want to seem intrusive even though I would've given the world to be the one he was talking to.
While leaving the classroom, DisasterCrush2 tells me he liked my piece...then goes on to talk for another 15 mins. to my friend who nods politely & offers giggles just to be kind.
Just my luck, he parked in the same lot.
I got in my car & sped home.
No shit, I fucking sped...after doing about 10 doughnuts in the parking lot because I couldn't figure how to get the fuck out.
The only thing that kept me sane when I got home was the thought of DisasterCrush1.
DisasterCrush1, that sweet, kind, handsome guy.
Never thinking that shit couldn't get any worse after DisasterCrush2, I ignorantly continued on with my life.
Then, the second bomb of the night went off.
Casualties: My heart, my confidence, & my sex drive.

I'll tell you the rest tomorrow...

Random Daily Haiku:

Why did you have to
track mud through my brand new house?
At least help clean up.

Current Nails:


My nails are 20 different lengths.

OPI- Teal the Cows Come Home