that's it.
no word from B- about this weekend so i'm going to old orchard instead of lolling about in a hormonal haze with a boy before i leave.
grumble frakkin' grumble frakkin' grumble.
update:
B- has emerged after i emailed him asking if he'd been overcome by carbon monoxide and eaten by his cats. his response to my invitation: 'i'd rather hang out at my place. give me a call.'
well, FRAK! i'd rather NOT.
update #2:
there's a personal post today on his site. i'm reading it, seeing me in what he's writing (aw, he likes my belchiness!) then the post ends with a reference to this awesome woman, whoever she is, who makes him want to write poetry to her, wearing sweat pants with 'hot metal rocks' emblazoned across the ass.
this is not me.
i'm going about my pre-christmas business right now, in the apartment, and there's a part of me that is also going slowly insane. i don't want to go insane like those other hugely insecure, neurotic women. i don't want this...this doubt (about myself, mainly.) i'm not used to self-doubt. i left that behind in junior high and high school. that's not the Me that i am now.
fuck!
3 comments:
Grrrrr. Those red flags have turned into a raging forest fire. (Is it okay to combine metaphors? I wasn't sure how to make "red flags" bigger?)
It's a cycle.
I should have bought you that vibrator 10 years ago.
i'm afraid his depression and the lassitude brought on by much smoking of the herb is making him too much of a hermit!
if only he left his apartment! he'd be fascinating and wonderful!
GAAH! (or, in the words of word verification: ofggmexq!)
Post a Comment