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AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jun. 15th, 2002 04:44 amI am so fucking aggravated right now and I don't fucking know why!!! I'm overly sensitive, overly paranoid, overly nnnnhhhyyyeah. I've been sick off and on for a whole frickin week with no end in sight. I'm so sick of cold medicine but without it, I'm a hacking, sniffling, sleepless, drooling, achy, phlegmmy, unmovable, miserable train wreck.
Of course with it, I'm perpetually stoned. Downright stupid. Duh... what? Oh yeah, and it makes me kind of dizzy. And I just wanna sleep. God, I've slept I don't know how many hours this week. Enough sleep for a small village.
But I was out, of course, acting like nothing was wrong, chain smokin, wine swillin (okay just a glass - medicinal purposes, ya know) hoppin around, blowing shots at the pool table over and over and over again. Nnnnya, Nnnnya, NnnnnnnnYAH!!!
I was hating people too. There were people standing in a crowd all in a row over by the pool table and they were in my way. Excuse me didn't work. Making a motion like I was going to impale them with my cue didn't work. I finally said, "Back! Back! All of you! I HAVE A POINTY STICK!!!! That got the job done. Why do we breed?
I'm tired and mad and stuff. I want off the DXM, the pseudoephedrine, the diphenhydramine, and the acetominaphin. Off, I tell you, off. My dreams have gotten way too interesting. Scary giant bugs and my father and stuff.
I guess I could just not take it and be a sniffling mess. But I can't get anything done. I can't get out of fucking bed. (WARNING: LONG RANT ABOUT STUPID EX-BOYFRIEND APPROACHING) And I find myself starting to process my last relationship and all I find is, I'm pissed off about a lot of shit and it's a good thing suicide boy went to Florida and I didn't go with him because if he was here right now I would probably impale him with a POINTY STICK!!! Not my pointy stick though. I might damage it. I'd use a cheaper pointy stick that was sharpened and meant nothing to me. A house cue. That would be poetic justice because he hated pool and thought it was boring and considered it a useless hobby. I don't know, I kind of found lying in bed for three days straight in the dark only getting up to go to work only to come back home and lie in bed in the dark again for another three days a useless hobby but, hey, it's what he wanted to do! I found it boring. Maybe I'm insensitive. I don't care. What good is a boyfriend who doesn't put out that you have to dust around?
And oh yeah, he didn't like my friends, found them uninteresting (?!) and couldn't understand why they were important to me and why I wanted to see them If I was just going to move away.
And the damn french films. Two annoying people hanging aroung in an apartment for a week insulting each other and occasionally having implied sex. In black and white. With hard to read subtitles. Not that they were saying anything interesting anyway. In his world Good Movie = slow, boring, and depressing.
He claimed to be showing me his love by consenting to watch a king fu movie. What a fucking sacrifice.
Oh yeah, and he made me throw away my white socks because he hated them and he complained because I had too many pairs of underwear. He only had three pairs... Wasn't that enough for me? Fuck you man, I like fucking white socks and always having a clean pair of underwear. At least it's sexy underwear.... not that he ever noticed.
And.... he wanted me to change my name because he didn't like it anymore. It was the same name as his mother even though she went by a derivative, and he decided that people with my name were capable of emotionally destroying him.
He also criticized my hair color, my makeup, my color schemes, and my taste in music and movies.
Hollywood video was hell.
And.... he made more money than I did which would have been fine but I wound up spending my money on food and stuff and so there were times I had to ask him for money to go out. This was a problem because....
1. He didn't want to go out... why did I? Why didn't I want to go to bed a 9pm? Why did I want to go to the Mercury? He hated it, why didn't I? Why did I want to see my friends, he didn't want to see his friends, he was trying to get rid of all three of them because well, he was moving away. He didn't think he needed them anymore.
2. Why didn't I make it to the club before 10? (Because I got off work at midnight or I was busy arguing about wanting to go out or I was attempting to spend "quality time" with my "boyfriend" as couples tend to do.
3. Oh, you want a soda? Can't you get someone to buy you one? No. I can't. Fuck you I want a fucking soda pop. Okay here. Why do you want to tip? I don't understand it but fine.
I ran screaming to the club. Didn't want to go home.
And besides all the whining, nitpicking, lint brushing, steaming, ironing, smelly soap using, fashion critiquing, cedar mothballs rolling around on the floor that hurt when you stepped on them, friend intolerance and dissing my favorite leisurely pasttimes (pool and dancing), he also complained about my manners and my swearing and my eating habits and the occasional forays into Rocky Horror Picture Show geekdom, the least he could have done which was the one thing he really didn't want to do which was.....
PUT OUT. I don't expect my sex partner to put out if they're sick or really stressed out or extremely tired or we're somewhere we could get arrested for such a thing. But having someone who decides that sex is overrated and orgasms make him want to die and I'm shallow for thinking it's important is the last fucking straw. Not only has he been critiquing my appearance, he won't even do it in the dark. My self-esteem, god love it was eroding quickly.
So I gave up. I got permission. Written. I went outside the relationship. He took it as liberty to go out to the club and flirt with and/or make out with other women. I just didn't care at that point. It was over. Done.
It really does bug me when my significant other won't makes out with other chicks.
Maybe I'm a little old fashioned at heart.
I really appreciate my workout partner. I'm starting to learn that relationships don't have to be flaming awful stinking drama fests and can actually be a good thing. I'm really happy I found someone cool who doesn't try to change me or criticize me or make me feel like I have to act any different around him than I do around my friends. When I need space, he gives it too me. When I need to talk he listens. When I want to see my friends, he's totally okay with it. And when I want to have sex, [CENSORED]. Oh yeah, I can cry in front of him too. And it's okay. Valuable traits. Definitely.
My last relationship helped me figure out what I did and din't want in a significant other. Once I figured that out, one arrived.
Now if I can just figure out what I want from the rest of my life.....
Of course with it, I'm perpetually stoned. Downright stupid. Duh... what? Oh yeah, and it makes me kind of dizzy. And I just wanna sleep. God, I've slept I don't know how many hours this week. Enough sleep for a small village.
But I was out, of course, acting like nothing was wrong, chain smokin, wine swillin (okay just a glass - medicinal purposes, ya know) hoppin around, blowing shots at the pool table over and over and over again. Nnnnya, Nnnnya, NnnnnnnnYAH!!!
I was hating people too. There were people standing in a crowd all in a row over by the pool table and they were in my way. Excuse me didn't work. Making a motion like I was going to impale them with my cue didn't work. I finally said, "Back! Back! All of you! I HAVE A POINTY STICK!!!! That got the job done. Why do we breed?
I'm tired and mad and stuff. I want off the DXM, the pseudoephedrine, the diphenhydramine, and the acetominaphin. Off, I tell you, off. My dreams have gotten way too interesting. Scary giant bugs and my father and stuff.
I guess I could just not take it and be a sniffling mess. But I can't get anything done. I can't get out of fucking bed. (WARNING: LONG RANT ABOUT STUPID EX-BOYFRIEND APPROACHING) And I find myself starting to process my last relationship and all I find is, I'm pissed off about a lot of shit and it's a good thing suicide boy went to Florida and I didn't go with him because if he was here right now I would probably impale him with a POINTY STICK!!! Not my pointy stick though. I might damage it. I'd use a cheaper pointy stick that was sharpened and meant nothing to me. A house cue. That would be poetic justice because he hated pool and thought it was boring and considered it a useless hobby. I don't know, I kind of found lying in bed for three days straight in the dark only getting up to go to work only to come back home and lie in bed in the dark again for another three days a useless hobby but, hey, it's what he wanted to do! I found it boring. Maybe I'm insensitive. I don't care. What good is a boyfriend who doesn't put out that you have to dust around?
And oh yeah, he didn't like my friends, found them uninteresting (?!) and couldn't understand why they were important to me and why I wanted to see them If I was just going to move away.
And the damn french films. Two annoying people hanging aroung in an apartment for a week insulting each other and occasionally having implied sex. In black and white. With hard to read subtitles. Not that they were saying anything interesting anyway. In his world Good Movie = slow, boring, and depressing.
He claimed to be showing me his love by consenting to watch a king fu movie. What a fucking sacrifice.
Oh yeah, and he made me throw away my white socks because he hated them and he complained because I had too many pairs of underwear. He only had three pairs... Wasn't that enough for me? Fuck you man, I like fucking white socks and always having a clean pair of underwear. At least it's sexy underwear.... not that he ever noticed.
And.... he wanted me to change my name because he didn't like it anymore. It was the same name as his mother even though she went by a derivative, and he decided that people with my name were capable of emotionally destroying him.
He also criticized my hair color, my makeup, my color schemes, and my taste in music and movies.
Hollywood video was hell.
And.... he made more money than I did which would have been fine but I wound up spending my money on food and stuff and so there were times I had to ask him for money to go out. This was a problem because....
1. He didn't want to go out... why did I? Why didn't I want to go to bed a 9pm? Why did I want to go to the Mercury? He hated it, why didn't I? Why did I want to see my friends, he didn't want to see his friends, he was trying to get rid of all three of them because well, he was moving away. He didn't think he needed them anymore.
2. Why didn't I make it to the club before 10? (Because I got off work at midnight or I was busy arguing about wanting to go out or I was attempting to spend "quality time" with my "boyfriend" as couples tend to do.
3. Oh, you want a soda? Can't you get someone to buy you one? No. I can't. Fuck you I want a fucking soda pop. Okay here. Why do you want to tip? I don't understand it but fine.
I ran screaming to the club. Didn't want to go home.
And besides all the whining, nitpicking, lint brushing, steaming, ironing, smelly soap using, fashion critiquing, cedar mothballs rolling around on the floor that hurt when you stepped on them, friend intolerance and dissing my favorite leisurely pasttimes (pool and dancing), he also complained about my manners and my swearing and my eating habits and the occasional forays into Rocky Horror Picture Show geekdom, the least he could have done which was the one thing he really didn't want to do which was.....
PUT OUT. I don't expect my sex partner to put out if they're sick or really stressed out or extremely tired or we're somewhere we could get arrested for such a thing. But having someone who decides that sex is overrated and orgasms make him want to die and I'm shallow for thinking it's important is the last fucking straw. Not only has he been critiquing my appearance, he won't even do it in the dark. My self-esteem, god love it was eroding quickly.
So I gave up. I got permission. Written. I went outside the relationship. He took it as liberty to go out to the club and flirt with and/or make out with other women. I just didn't care at that point. It was over. Done.
It really does bug me when my significant other won't makes out with other chicks.
Maybe I'm a little old fashioned at heart.
I really appreciate my workout partner. I'm starting to learn that relationships don't have to be flaming awful stinking drama fests and can actually be a good thing. I'm really happy I found someone cool who doesn't try to change me or criticize me or make me feel like I have to act any different around him than I do around my friends. When I need space, he gives it too me. When I need to talk he listens. When I want to see my friends, he's totally okay with it. And when I want to have sex, [CENSORED]. Oh yeah, I can cry in front of him too. And it's okay. Valuable traits. Definitely.
My last relationship helped me figure out what I did and din't want in a significant other. Once I figured that out, one arrived.
Now if I can just figure out what I want from the rest of my life.....
