had a bad day again....
November 13, 2002 at 3:15 p.m.
I stayed up for hours crying last night about something the boy had said... woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a mack truck and then tarred and feathered with a huge bucket of self loathing.
You know, good start to a great day, huh?
Well, our fair heroine schleps off to school and into a jazz combo rehearsal. After the entire combo comments of how absolutely terrible and sleep deprived I look, I get this from our testosterone-charged electric bass player:
him: are you protesting something?
me: um... no - why?
him: like... are you not wearing a bra?
me: !!!!!!!!!!!!! YES I AM !!!!!!!!!!!
him: it doesn't look like it.
me: WHAT???
the rest of the combo: yeah, it doesn't at all. is something wrong?
me: *dies a quick death from embarassment and puts my jacket back on*
at least this gives me something else to think about beside the many flaws that offend my loved ones. I need new underwear. Woohoo.
The bass player then proceeded to give me a very detailed description of the bra that I should be wearing and offered to go get some with me. That's the way today has gone. I'd crawl back in bed but that would actually make me feel worse than I do right now. Who'd've thunk.
I'd go jogging but I keep getting shin splints.
I'd go shopping but I'm trying to show some restraint in the fiscal department.
I'd eat ice cream but I already ate all my ice cream at approximately 3am this morning in my underwear watching an infomercial.
Look in the Bible - it's a commandent that people get married. To be in a relationship. Why? Why would anyone do something that allows another person in so much that they can send you spiralling because they were dispointed in how you acted around their friends? Hypothetically of course...
Because you learn lessons with someone that you can't learn on your own. It forces you to continue to grow into something greater, better, stronger.
I'm getting to that age in a woman's life where I could make it on my own and be perfectly content not having to deal with heartbreak ever again. And that's dangerous because crying this much makes me want to do one thing that seems like it would be the best thing for me... but it's really not.
He's right. I hate it, but he's usually right. I'm never friggin' right. And mom's right. I am being immature. But I ate half a gallon HALF A GALLON of cookies and cream ice cream at 3 this morning because I needed something else to hurt inside other than my heart. I don't know what else a girl is supposed to do at a time lie that.
Don't get me wrong - I'm not hysterical anymore. Just sore at myself. I don't want him to date me anymore because I don't want him to be disapointed in me. I felt like a princess this weekend, but apparently I'm not. He won't let me throw this away so easily and that's good. But it's easier than throwing myself away and immature as that may seem, it's all I want to do.
rrrg. I'm moving to Fiji. Anyone want to come? No boys allowed... just big burly women.
SUPERCRACK is super cracky, unfortunately.