Saturday, March 12, 2011

Still Alive

& very much awake.
I've been writing a post about Jonny Craig since yesterday, but after seeing him puke on stage the other night, I think I'm gonna take a little vacation from that.
I got through about an hour & a half of the author's speech yesterday.
The auditorium filled up so quickly, I was put in a room with about 200 other people & we had to watch the speech on a giant projection screen.
No shit. The lights went out & I passed the fuck out.
I tried pretty hard to stay awake, but if you put a college student in a dark room with someone reading you a 45 minute long "short" story, it's fucking bedtime.
The second story she read was only about 20 minutes long & it was actually pretty interesting.
After that was over, I proceed to go home, put a Ryan Gosling movie in my dvd player & fall asleep before I could even press play.
Now it's almost midnight & I'm inspired to do some reading & writing tonight...but, we'll see.
I've been thoroughly entertained by every Job for a Cowboy interview on YouTube, lately.
Serously, something about the way Brent talks could make me happy even if the world were to come to it's very end right now.
...I should stop saying shit like that.
On a slightly different note, I'm so fucking sick of hearing about Charlie Sheen.
Please stop giving him attention.
Anyway, I'm gonna go try to get some writing done.

Goodnight. <3

Friday, March 11, 2011

I am beyond exhausted.

I'm not even sure why.
I did exactly what I said I'd do yesterday.
I got up at 9am as opposed to the usual 6am, but after class, I was out running errands until about 8pm.
That plus this freezing cold rain is probably what's making me feel ready to keel over & die.
My day isn't even halfway through.
I'm on an hour break now, then I have Journalism, then I have to go listen to an author I've never heard of give a speech so I can write a boring fucking article on it.
I just want to go home, watch every Ryan Gosling movie I own & fall asleep in my nice warm bed.
Too much to ask?
I'm trying to think of ways around going to this author thing.
My assignment is to attend an event then write an article on it.
Too bad I'm in the middle of nowhere & there's absolutely NOTHING going on around here.
Guess this is my only option.
I'd be more enthralled if I actually knew this woman.

This is going to be one of those posts that I look back on like "What the fuck?".

Sorry about that.
I've been looking at pictures of Jer Velardi for the last half hour & now I'm starting to feel kind of creepy about it.
I'm gonna go.
I feel like the key to my mind just won't turn over.
Maybe if I get some sleep, I'll talk to you later.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

It's 11 o'clock at Night...

and I guess I'm feeling kinda restless.
Kinda restless, kinda lonely, kinda...miserable.
I did my retail therapy (a.k.a. got more toothpaste), now I'm home with all the other shit I bought & there's a funk in my house.
This crazy New York weather messes with people's emotions around here.
This state is dangerous territory in the winter.
This is the worst possible time to be around my mom.
And this is the worst possible time to fall in love.
I'm having a really hard time coping with the idea of DisasterCrush1 a.k.a. Forum Boy a.k.a. WillThisCrushEverGoAway?
By "coping" I don't mean I'm losing all my shit over it.
I like to think as a hormonal teenage girl, I'm allowed to lose some shit over a cute boy.
But it just hurts so much.
I was so wrong about everything I thought about this guy...short of him being straight.
Looking back on some of my posts about this guy, I kind of make it seem like he's gay.
Definately not.
He might as well be, though.
There's days where I feel fine about the whole thing, in fact, I feel fucking great.
On these days, I'll be sure that there is someone better than this guy, somewhere hopefully near me.
Then there's days where every fucking song I hear relates to this situation & they all tear me apart inside.
Today was a mix of the two. It started off well &, well, you see where we are now.
There's going to be another snow storm tonight & for the first time in my life, I don't want a snow day.
I don't even want it to snow.
Tomorrow could be the last time I ever see this guy.
For whatever reason, I've only run into him on campus about 3 times all semester.
I feel like I sound silly & slightly obsessive.
Just know that I live inside my own head.
Everything impossibly good in my life I tend to believe is either bullshit or fiction (hence the site name).
This boy was impossibly good.
He snuck up on me 3 days after Valentine's Day & stopped me dead in my tracks.
I didn't even look halfway decent that day.
The hardest part of knowing a guy like this is real is knowing that I'm going to have to forget him.
I can always tell myself there's someone else out there who will blow my mind just the same, but it's taken 20 years already just to get this far.
And here I am.
The $30+ I just blew on makeup & nail polish (& toothpaste) isn't going to make this situation any easier.
Nothing will.
I don't know if not seeing DisasterCrush1 anymore is the right way to get over him.
Probably, right?
Too bad we're friends on Facebook.
I wrote a poem about him the other night, praying that "writing him off" would take at least some of the pain away.
It helped numb me out for that night but I think it's pretty obvious how quickly that shit wore off.
I'm not sure what to do at this point.
I want to get to the point where it doesn't make me sad to think about him.
I want to get to the point where it doesn't feel like anything to think about him.

Funny story:
When I walked into class last Thursday, he was talking to another girl who was sitting right next to him.
You could see the same thoughts I'd originally had, floating through her head.
After class, she waited for him so they could walk together & all I could think was:
You're barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart.
Whatever, anyway.
I know myself too well. Tomorrow, I'll get up, look outside praying for minimal snow, shower, get dressed, do my hair, do my makeup, & make my way to school where I'll be bodyslammed against square one.
A lot of shit has been hitting the fan around here as far as family matters & I guess I was looking for an escape.
I should've never let my heart get so attatched to something I knew had the power to leave.
One day it's not going to feel like this.
One day it's not going to feel like anything at all.

Well Lookie Here...

Looks like my half-assed work paid off.
I got an A on that dreaded essay I was ranting about recently.
It was a Classification/Division essay & I wrote it on some of the groups of people you see at any given metal show.
I thought it was pretty comical but seeing as my professor is a fucking retard, he took the whole thing very seriously.
Whatever, I got my A.
Did I mention I woke up late for that same class today?
I rushed to get there to at least catch the last few minutes of class. Mind you, I live 25 minutes (depending on traffic) from the school & I had some very important hair & makeup to do first.
I get there a half hour late & the professor goes:
"Do you work?"
Me: "Yes."
Professor Dumbass: "Do you show up 34 minutes late for your job?"
Me: "No."
Professor Dumbass: "Then, what's going on here?"
Are you fucking serious?
On any other given day, I'm literally the first person in the classroom.
No shit. I turn on the lights & everything.
I've really had enough of this class & the professor.
Let me move on before I start getting riled up about nothing.
Tomorrow's the last day of Forum.
...You know what that means.
Ugh, moving on.
I'm going out later tonight for some retail therapy...or something like that. I basically ran out of toothpaste. Good times.
Anyway, I need to eat.
I'm going back & forth between a Dillinger interview with the never-ending entertainment of Greg Puciato & Liam Wilson, & a Job for a Cowboy interview with the never-ending awkwardness of Jonny Davy.
I have the house to myself for the first time in 25 years.
I'll talk to you later...

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Just got home

about a half hour ago.
I ended up staying much later talking to my professor (who happens to be the shit).
So, on the slightly touchy subject of DisasterCrush2...that's the one I met 2 weeks ago.
Not only am I totally & completely over this fool, I'm beginning to strongly dislike him.
I say "strongly dislike" because I truly don't "hate" anyone.
For whatever reason, this dude just has something against me.
Normally I'd ignorantly chalk it up to being a race issue but remember, this is the same guy who is obsessed with blues, jazz & the Civil Rights Movement.
So what's the problem?
I'm sure everyone has heard some version of the phrase: "No matter who you are, there's always going to be people who just don't like you".
I think that's pretty applicable.
He let my friend (yes, the married one) borrow a book & she asked him if I could borrow it next.
He said yes, but the look on this dude's face was as if my friend asked him if she could fuck him with a knife.
The book is sitting on my dresser & it will stay there until I have my next class, so I can give it back to him.
That shit is tainted with bad intentions.
I'm very much looking forward to writing a lovely poem about him & reading it in class next time.
If he can tell it's about him, even better.
You can't make people feel insecure about themselves for no good reason.
If you're going to dislike me, at least tell me why.
I'm not going to care but at least I'll know what your problem is...
other than cowardice.
Anyway, I'm getting off track as usual.
I got a shitty sandwich at Subway & ended up throwing it out after a few bites.
This year is really testing me & although I may seem like I'm often losing my mind, compared to the way I handled shit a few years ago, I'm holding up like a steel bridge now.
My professor is another person who never has anything negative to say about my writing.
Maybe it's because I always end up going last & everyone wants to get the fuck out of there but, like I said, tonight I stayed past midnight & not the smallest amount of shit was talked about my pieces.
He told me I have a creative sense of humor.
I think strange shit is always happening to me & after I document it, it becomes funny.
Kind of like this site.
My whole life seems like one big hilarious fail, on here. Especially when it comes to boys.
However, with an entry like "We Need to Talk: Part 1", I cried my eyes out the night before I wrote, locked myself in my room & cried until I couldn't breathe.
Those "box office bombs" caused some of the worst pain I've ever felt in my life & my bruises from it are still healing.
After I posted it, though, I still crack up reading over it.
How fucked up can one day be?
Though I never told you exactly what happend with DisasterCrush1, it was bad news.
Real bad news.
As I've said before, this site is therapeutic to me & it helps me see how funny the shittiest parts of life can really be.
Sorry, rambling again.
It's 1:35, now. I should probably hit the sack...or at least stop trying to make any sense.
The DisasterCrush2 poem will be written & read.
I'm gonna go pass the fuck out.
&, hopefully, I'll be able to continue seeing the humor in all of my bad days.