Pimpkin

I try to employ every opportunity possible to learn from my mistakes.

Except, in one area, I keep making the same mistakes over and over. It's pathetic.

And then I'm back to square one, feeling used, and smoking way too much pot.

Currently I am dealing with a bunch of school shit and a bunch of other shit. Ideally, I would just like to be worrying about other shit. So the impending end to this semester is becoming more and more desirable.

Linds had this boyfriend a few years ago, he broke her heart. Got her pregnant and while she collapsed under the emotional trauma of aborting his baby, he saw about six other girls behind her back. A real winner. Her first love.

Back in the day he had a best friend named J-. Fast forward. I meet this guy named J-, and he seems pretty cool. Good sense of humor, very attractive, what have you. We end up going on a date of sorts, and I tell Loopis what I know of him. Turns out the two J-s are one in the same. Small world, I guess.

Anyway, we had planned on going to see Saw V tonight, J- and I, but early last night he said that something came up and he couldn't go, and I didn't hear anything else from him.

I guess that frees me up a bit. As for the other guy, C-, I'm on the fence. He seemed like a decent guy, and maybe he is, but he comes from money (and a lot of it) and I definitely don't. It's been causing a clear rift between the two of us, pinpointing how different our worlds are from each other.

Maybe I'm losing interest. Maybe it's something else. I'm done with getting jerked around. I just want everyone out.

Intrinsically, my relationships with people in my life lately have felt like a party in which everyone has overstayed their welcome and have taken to destroying my house. I want to kick everyone out.

I've been a mix of irritable, tired, defeated, and lonely lately.

I wish I myself could usher in the cooler weather, because I know it would make me feel better. Right now I just don't have the time or energy to perk myself up.

Wednesday night is the Halloween FILTH, a gig JG has set himself up with at a bar downtown. I've gone the past three weeks, it's a decent spot to hang out with people whose company I enjoy.

Anyway, since it's the Halloween edition, the FILTH is a costume-mandatory event, and there will be a Thriller dance-off. Angela brought this up to me last week, and it sounds pretty rad. We're going to practice Tuesday, then go to FILTH Wednesday and get drunk and forget all the moves.

I carved a pumpkin this year, for the first time since I was about six years old. I wish it made me happier.

I need to readjust my focus.

Ball & Chain

Every once in a while I feel extremely vulnerable here.

I think it's because I've gotten used to Lindsey being around and it's weird being alone (it was quite the opposite a few months ago).

I don't doubt this apartment is safe. It's on the corner of the building, so the only way in and out is through the door unless you put a ladder up to the window. It hasn't bothered me since we've pulled the shades aside a month ago, but tonight I feel exposed. And cold. I guess I should close them.

Lindsey has told me today that lately I've been kind of rude and cold to her. I don't really see it, but I apologized anyway. If I am, I hope that my being incredibly stressed and tired over the past couple months is an accurate excuse, or else I don't know what's happening.

Last night we went to her family's ping pong tournament. We got there after the fact, but I played a game with Lindsey until her dad stepped in. The guy is really good at ping pong (and why wouldn't he be? He's good at everything else) and I'm not. Last night was the first time I've ever really played, but I picked it up pretty quick. I'd like to get a table to practice over the next year so I can claim my ping pong throne amongst the N. clan.

What else, what else.

Wednesday nights there is a new DJ thing downtown with JG and N8, it's become an interesting hangout. I get to chill with some cool people (I've grown quite fond of Ken's girlfriend Angela), listen to old school punk and rock, and get drunk for relatively cheap. And get laid. What?

I got drunk and slept with JB (the other half of Stavros). I had been trying to avoid this for a while, since hooking up with anyone in the Stavros group is like hooking up with them all.

My behavior lately has been horrendous, I admit. I've dropped a lot of cognitive dissonance by revising my code of morals and ethics to exclude some immoral and unethical actions I've taken lately (namely the sex, though there are others). I'm still a teeny bit disturbed by this, however, and I plan to resume normalcy once the semester is over. And by normal I mean I would like to be a better person.

Though after getting laid twice in a week after not at all for six months, my desire for that has dropped off a little too.

Perhaps it was all the drama that sprang up.

A [nondenominational entity] knows I don't need to deal with relationshit right now. I've got enough going on as it is; I'm committed thoroughly to schoolwork, paying bills, and maintaining some semblance of a sane person.

Let's Get Physical

What the hell am I getting myself into?

I'm not sure why I can let some things go so easily and other things I struggle to hold on to.

I feel like my need to know every aspect of my social life's interactions holds me back sometimes, from being happier and more satisfied. I'm starting to wonder if having the knowledge I desire is really worth the frustration and disappointment it often brings.

So, where do I stand now?
Alone?
Supported?

Yesterday I allowed myself to cry, on the grounds that it is the last time I ever will. And I will hold myself to that.

And here I find myself waiting for a phone call that I probably will never receive, and I can't explain why, because I know that tomorrow none of this will matter.

I need to stop doing this, this fighting with myself. And I need to stop now.

I haven't been to the gym in nearly a week, and today I think I have the energy to displace my strife.

Then The Heavens Opened And...

Ok, seriously?
Can I level with you?

I think I'm going to buy a vibrator and swear off men altogether.

The past three guys I've dated (and each time I wasn't even looking for someone to date) have all pretty much pretended like I didn't exist after two weeks or so.

I conclude that it must be me. Three different guys, each somewhat similar but more different than alike, each of them pulling the fuck-and-leave card.

Apparently I was born with the man-repellent gene.

And, excuse me for chalking it up to DNA, but what can I say?

The first guy I met through a friend, and he seemed pretty cool. I wasn't looking for anything serious, he apparently thought I was, and dropped me like I was hot.

The second guy, well...something similar I guess. I don't really want to get into it.

The third guy, this last one, did seem like a decent guy. He's younger than me, which was a little strange at first, but he's really into music, has a decent sense of humor, not to mention a drop-dead gorgeous body and smile. Even Lindsey liked him. EVEN ALBERT LIKED HIM. Those are the two hardest people to impress with guys I've been seeing. So, after we hang out for a few days (not straight), I take him home and have hardcore sex with this kid, because, hey, I have needs too.

I think you can guess what happened after that.

Long story short: why is it so hard to find a decent, steady lay by someone who is not a complete douche bag?

I mean, obviously something about my personality (or potentially my appearance) is unattractive. I've learned a thing or two in the past few years, so I don't think it's my bedroom performance.

Or is it that I refuse to change who I am for someone I've just met? I'm going to be myself regardless, and what I really want to do is just chill.

It didn't bother me at first, but after three times and having my sexual dry spell on the line, it's become a little nerve-wracking.

I just had sex for the first time in nearly six months, and I don't want to go back. I can't wait another six. Or five or four. Or even two for that matter.

UGH! I'm so frustrated.

Can I get an epiphany, or something, please?

I'm Okay, You're Okay

Time slowed down during my birthday week, but it's picking right back up at break-neck speed. I won't be able to rest until the semester is over.

ATTENTION:

Tonight, I got laid for the first time in five or six months.

And I fucking liked it.

And this guy is actually pretty nice.

HALLELUJAH!

There's No Place Like Home...

I guess I'd like to pretend that this has been my best birthday to date.

In fact, I'd like to pretend it so much that I actually believed it for a little while.

Here's the reality: every single plan I tried to make on my birthday (September 30) and the weekend following (of October 4) has changed at least once.

Plan: My birthday night was supposed to consist of Vietnamese dinner and drunken karaoke.
What actually happened: I went downtown with a couple friends, a couple friends of friends, and a couple coworkers. It was dead because, of course, it was Tuesday night. But I looked pretty good, I must say, and it was my twenty-first birthday, so I shrugged it off. A couple of my "friends" disapproved of the places I wanted to go to, which, and let me be honest, pissed me the fuck off. Eventually I got drunk enough to not care, but not drunk enough to (godforbid) vomit on myself, or on anyone else, or at all, for that matter, and started having fun. A couple friends smoked me out and a new romantic interest was spurred with a so-called "good guy." Got home at 6 a.m.
The follow-up: Didn't sleep well. Hungover. Shitty day at work the next day. Romantic interest is dead in the water. Probably pissed off a few people.

Plan: Take Friday of my birthday weekend off to see Maroon 5/Counting Crows.
What actually happened: The tickets were expensive, so we could only afford lawn seats at $99 for a four-pack. This means three other people were required to go. Except two bailed on me, so I canceled the concert plans as well as my request off work. That Friday, while I'm at work, I get a call from Lindsey at 4:30 saying that her brother Peter had called to apologize about some fight they had been having and offer her and me tickets to the Maroon 5/Counting Crows Concert at 7 p.m.
The follow-up: Couldn't find anyone to pick up my shift, so I ended up working and missing the concert. I made $250, which makes me feel somewhat better, but is a small consolation nonetheless.

Plan: Throw a birthday party for myself at Justin's house on Saturday, October 4.
What actually happened: Though we discussed this plan two months in advance and I periodically reminded him, a week before the proposed party Justin claimed to have made two other sets of plans for that very night. I was immediately disappointed, but Lindsey came up with a quick save and suggested we travel across state to this restaurant I ate at last year and loved, and we booked a hotel room for the night and looked forward to our mini road trip.
The follow-up: The restaurant was good, but it turns out that the town is not very visitor-friendly if you're interested in hitting up the nightlife. We left the place, bought a couple pints of ice cream, and went back to the hotel. In the morning it was too dreary to go to the beach (as planned) so we got lunch and came home.

I'd like to believe it was some higher power that lovingly prevented me from enjoying my 21st birthday this year and not the fact that my friends are flakes.

But who am I kidding?