any good apples?

every day i am more and more disillusioned with the male half of the human race.

i start to believe that there are actually decent men out there when i meet a guy who has a personality, can hold a decent conversation without bragging about his athletic ability, workout regimen, or how much he can drink, is attractive in the right way, and can laugh---really deep-down belly laugh without feeling self-conscious or conspicuous for actually having fun in public. i click with this guy....really click. our vibes were doing the cha-cha. He offered me a ride back from the bar, and i accepted.

so i let him kiss me.
i let myself kiss him back.
and it was glorious.

we were laughing, talking, and having fun. he tasted right, kissed right, and knew exactly where to put his hands. there was no awkwardness, just an easy comfort with a flash of heat that i slipped right into with a mental sigh.

i chose to make the smart decision and go home, instead of giving into the easy hookup. i had to congratulate myself on my good decision because it soon became evident that the guy had some baggage---in a big way.

he has a girlfriend.

what's worse is that while i'm discouraged, frustrated, and that much more unwilling to look for decent guys...i'm also not really surprised.

i don't know which is more depressing: that this guy turned out to be an illusion, or that i'm starting to expect all guys to be empty underneath the surface.

drinking and dreaming

lately i have been getting lonely...especially when i'm out and drinking. ironic how you can feel lost and alone in a sea full of people. how the very amount of people emphasizes that there are no real connections being made. or maybe not.

it's not a pretty sort of lonely either. i'm not sitting at a table with a sadly mysterious look on my face, nursing an elegant drink like a cosmo, and musing intelligently on the state of my singlehood while guys are drawn to me, wondering just what lies beyond all that sadness. it's more like i'm in a hole-in-the-wall bar chugging down cheap beer that's labeled wrong on the tap so that when it says you're drinking miller lite you're actually swilling down genny lite. more like my makeup has melted off, there's beer all over my shirt because i either spilled it on myself or someone bumped into me, and i'm blearily wondering who i can call, text, or flirt with late night so that physical closeness will help me pretend that maybe someone does care about me in a meaningful, intimate way.

it would just be nice to feel like at the end of the night, someone is wondering how i am. someone wants me to call them. someone wants me.

once a baby always a baby

i wish that when my mother and i interacted....that she wouldn't give me advice with a sneer in her voice.

it makes it very difficult to be mature.

to blog or not to blog..

i blog. i write about my feelings, thoughts, and the deepest, most vulnerable parts of me are exposed to the general public. it's mind-blowing, terrifying, exhilarating, and a little crazy all at once. i mean, anyone can see my writing.

it's a risk. people don't always like what you have to say. feelings can get hurt. what i write isn't always nice or beautiful. i'm just as prone to mistakes as everyone else. i can be hurtful and nasty. i can be ugly. i'm not perfect by any means. for that matter, i'm probably as imperfect as they come. so sometimes blogging comes back around and slaps me in the face.

but i can also be kind. and loyal. and funny. i can be uplifting or completely ridiculous. i can laugh at myself and my tantrums. i can discover the whys and hows of what i do. i can see my dreams and hopes take shape before me. and writing is an outlet for me. something that lets me be completely and totally honest with myself, even though what i think and feel changes every day. something that allows me to look back and chart how i've grown and learned.

the world can see what i write, and who i am.
i choose to make it so.
it's scary as hell.
but what makes it frightening also makes it great.

only human

Hemmed in,
on all sides.
Surrounded by decisions.
The worst kind.
Mistakes chosen,
but not put away.
Dug up again,
like old dirty skeletons;
Ghosts that just wont
go away.
I fight to break free,
but it's an iron cage,
a dead end,
a patch of quicksand.
All my struggles do,
is drag me deeper.

taking notice

it's amazing how grateful we become for the little things when the big things go wrong.

keep on keepin on

maybe this will get easier if i just concentrate on making it through the day.

maybe this will make me a better person.

because that stupid trite saying of "Everything happens for a reason" is the only light at the end of my tunnel right now.

oh the sting of hypocrisy..

i made up with Best Friend today. because really....who am i to point fingers?


"Judge not, lest ye be judged"

Looks like the Almighty had it right after all.

isn't it ironic..

isn't it painfully funny that the people who have the biggest dreams and the most creative imaginations, the burning desire to be completely unique,

are also the ones who are tormented by the awareness of their averageness every day?

a five letter synonym for mistake

i received a facebook message from Best Friend today. it was an extremely long apology letter claiming deepest regrets about what happened in Miami.

she's sorry. sorry for breaking girl code. sorry for being selfish and drunk. sorry for cheating on the good guy friend that i had set her up with this summer with the guy that i was interested in. sorry for being sketchy and lying about it afterwards. sorry that she's apologizing in a facebook message. sorry it took her this long to apologize.

sorry. sorry. sorry.

i'm so tired of having people apologize for harmful or fucked up behavior weeks after it happens. i'm tired of them apologizing and then hoping that everything will go back to the way it was. like relationships can time-warp. if it's wrong and you know it, it shouldn't take you that long to 'fess up. maybe the problem is that i chose to form relationships with people that have weak characters.

so she apologized. which is a good thing, i guess. better than if she had never apologized. but i'm over it. i was over it two days after it happened. now i'm just indifferent to the entire situation. and to her.

i wrote back. mostly about how i was confused about our friendship, and that i was more hurt about the lying and changing stories after the whole thing had happened. i wanted respect for my intelligence at least. i mean, i heard them having sex. you can't really lie about something that obvious or audible.

this puts me at a crossroads. should i try to fix this friendship? should i turn my back? do i even care at this point to make either decision?

am i desperate enough for friends, and so afraid of being alone that i might turn a blind eye to everything that's happened?

i just....don't know.

new promise...or outfits

Spring is here.


Here's to the sluttier outfits that drunken college girls will start to wear again to compensate for lack of personality.

hoo-ray.

word vomit

Do you ever catch yourself listening to other peoples' conversation...


and then hoping that you don't sound as stupid as they do when you are talking to someone else?

i'm goin down down..

my life is quickly spiraling downward.

first the keyboard on my laptop suddenly decides to just stop working. thus i have no access to my writing, aim, or my email. no outlet to express myself before things get so built up inside me that i explode. in other words, i have been thrown into a black hole of communication. it's sad that i am this dependent on my computer and the internet but i've accepted it and moved on. thank god i still have my cell phone.

i have also been making a rash of bad life decisions. like putting off my work until it becomes a mountain of shit that i can't see over, not doing anything about my future after college, distancing myself from close friends, and having a one night stand with the local bartender.

yes, i did say that last part.

i don't know how to stop the train wreck i am becoming. i KNOW i am not that person who is so desperately lonely that she'll go home with a pretty face. i KNOW that i have ambitions and dreams and the means to accomplish them, but day after day i find myself in the same place. and i definitely know that i am worth more that what i am right now.

it's like the part that is me, the real me---the core, is relegated to the little voice in the back of my head, and that voice keeps getting fainter and fainter.

i need to do....something. fast.

help

i have just evaluated my life and realized that i have no money, no job or job prospects, no concrete plans, and no real skills that would be applicable in the real world.

eep.

who are you

i've been tired lately. so tired it's a struggle to make it through the day. i don't know if i'm still suffering aftereffects from spring break or if there's something else wrong.

i've also noticed that i've been extra-bitchy as well. i have no patience for the people around me. it's getting harder and harder for me to stay up-beat and optimistic. at least in public.

i don't know what's wrong with me.

i just know that i am slowly becoming someone i don't like at all.

oh the stupidity

A text conversation with Hockey Boy this morning in class after a late night of drinking:

Hockey Boy: yeah way to leave last night last night w out tellin me (i was not aware i had a babysitter who needed to be informed of my whereabouts at all times. i apologize. next time i leave to wipe my ass i'll be sure to let you know.)
Work in Progress: sigh you guys were doing guy things and i was drunk and tired (and by guy things i am including all cup-crushing, loud chanting, beer-chugging activitites)
HB: yeah i mean a good bye would of been nice lol (obviously the repeated yeah's mean he's hurt/pissed and the lol is a way to hide it)
WIP: i hate good byes
HB: yeah well i mean i look away for a sec and then your gone. (did i mention the incorrect usage of your and you're is a pet peeve of mine? and why the hell would you be staring at me all night? creepshow.) i would of driven you back (oh no you wouldn't have. you would have been drunk and sloppy. you also would have tried to get me to stay over, or would have followed me back to my room like a lost puppy).
WIP: Yeah but this way no one had to be bothered. i walk home all the time.
HB: yeah i know but still (this is the point at which he knows he has nothing to go on and is now just whining about a situation that has already happened and can't be undone)
WIP: No sweat. I'm a big girl (but obviously not a bigger girl than you, princess)
HB: fine fine (ah, an intelligent, definitive end to the conversation. nicely done)

this conversation was conducted at 10:40 in the morning. he's acting like i was the "inconsiderate girlfriend". i think he's forgetting one crucial fact-----I'M NOT HIS EFFIN' GIRLFRIEND. nor do i ever want to be after this display.

can anyone say smothering?

for real...how come the only guys who are attracted to me and actually pursue me are bigger whiny bitches than i am?

why now?

i feel..... lost.

uncertain and unsure.

and i don't know how to find my way back to solid ground.

beers and such.

i went out to the local irish pub near my school with a bunch of my guy friends. rugby players. solid down home boys. in other words----hard boozers. we had a couple car bombs, chased them with a couple pitchers, and sang horrible, drunken karaoke.

it felt good to slip back into that type of atmosphere.
good to be out in a sweatshirt and not trying to be more attractive than all the girls around me.
good to be around people who cared about me...not the me i present to the world.

so yeah.

welcome home.

she failed

my "best friend" fucked Miami the first night we were both there. i slept in his walk-in closet and tried to pass out despite the sounds of sex coming from outside the door.

once again i am left disappointed in the quality of my friends.

maybe i should come up with some sort of test or survey.
this way i won't be at risk for putting time, effort, and emotion into friendships that aren't worth my time.

come onnn

i do not get involved with people for a reason. especially those of the opposite sex. why? because they always take things a step too far. i break things off and they remain emotionally involved with me for a ridiculously long time.

i have had two serious relationships. not a lot of experience i know. but i've dipped my toes in the waters of committment. needless to say, i decided to get out of the water quickly. i've also ended both relationships. i didn't end them because i was cheated on, or because we fought a lot, or because of something dramatic. i ended them for the simple reason that i was dissatisfied. maybe it's because i'm a perfectionist, at least when it comes to who i date. but the relationships i've had, once the first glow had worn off, didn't feel quite...right.

so i ended them.
and hurt both of them.

i hurt for them. really. i hate causing anyone else pain. but it would have been much more painful to pretend to feel something that i didn't, and it might have damaged me beyond repair. i can't lie about about feelings. they're too important.

but although i hurt for them, i get extremely frustrated when they can't let me go. in this case, the subject under fire is my first ex. i've been broken up with him for two years. TWO YEARS. i understand it's hard. i understand he had a lot of insecurities.

but when i recently get a dramatic message (via facebook of all things. did i mention in addition to being an arrogant jackass, he's also a coward and drama queen? no?) that sounds like it came out of a movie script, i am understandably stunned that he is still so torn up about our breakup. because i'm over it. yet from what i can gather from his random message, he cannot even have a casual conversation with me through any medium because it makes him think about me. and thinking about me hurts. so i should just, and now i'm quoting, "Leave him be....please".

does anyone else find this to be as pathetic as i do?
he sounds like he modeled his message on the script of a badly written soap opera.

i don't feel bad for him. if he was genuinely hurting i would. but it's been two years. and i know he's enjoying the single life. the simple fact is my ex loves drama. and his ego still cannot recover from the fact that i was the one who ended things.

so bring on the girlish, catty, emotionally retarded facebook messages.

they amuse me.

what if

sometimes when i wake up in the middle of the night with no one beside me,

i wonder if i'll always be alone.

college fever

i need to get away.

away from the same people, same location. away from from places i get drunk at way too often. away from what seems like the same night over and over, only with different outfits. away from the realization of my rapidly approaching adulthood. away from cold and wet and wind. away from a situation that is rapidly becoming too complicated for me to handle.

my solution?

Miami.

it even sounds like what it is. decadent. warm weather, beautiful blue water, sands dotted with beachgoers, and hundreds of miles away from here. i'll be with girls that i choose to hang out with, girls who don't cause drama and whose main priority is to see how intoxicated they can get and still get stand. my kind of people.

the thing is....there's a boy in miami.
and he happens to be the person that my friends and i are staying with.

i know, i know.
but he's really cute.
and fun.
and grown-up with goals.

he makes my immature, guarded little heart flutter.

so even though i am going to miami...it looks like i might only be trading one complicated situation for another.