i spend a lot of time wondering how it is that i am such an asshole. how could anyone one susatinably love me? is it because other people are also just as fucked up as me?

will it be me in a few years calling and begging to sleep on your couch because i just can’t take it anymore?

its all about overstimulation. and personality type.

imagine you are in a small room. a closet sized room. the walls are white and shiney, just a tad reflective. in the room are a crying baby and your work computer.

you have to get your work done and you have to take care of the baby. step one is to make the baby happy, make it stop crying, fill it’s needs. you do it. you turn to your computer. you try to get into it. once you do the baby starts crying again. you soothe it. you turn back to your computer. you can see the babys reflection in the walls from the corner of your eye.youcant stopthinking about the baby. you pick upo the baby again. you cant stop thinking about work. you can see the emails rolling in. there is nothing you can do about it.now imagine that god is in the room with you telling how to do everything. you’re doing it wrong. do it this way. no this way.

“but since then it had been slowly dawning on her that she produced the same effect on others. her entrances were always triumphs; but they had no sequel. as soon as people began to talk they ceased to see her. any sense of insufficiency exasperated her, and she had vague thoughts of cultivating herself, and went so far as to spend a morning in the Louvre and go to one or two lectures by a fashionable philosopher. But though she returned from these expeditions charged with opinion, their expression did not excite the interest she had hoped. her views, if abundant, were confused, and the more she said the more nebulous they seemed to grow. she was disconcerted, moreover, by finding that everybody appeared to know about the things she thought she had discovered, and her comments clearly produced more bewilderment than interest.”

so i was watching a downloaded clip from one of the girls gone wild series (dorm fantasies or something, i think). figuring the feds are not going to go after me for stealing footage from this jack-off, who i heard is using tits to raise money for hurricane victims… whatever…

anyway i am watching two pretty blondes in a dorm room that they claim to share. the cameraguy asks them if they like each other, etc. and they giggle and start kissing and stripping. he asks if they have ever “played around like this” before, and they giggle and say no and keep kissing and stripping.

i thought the girls gone wild thing was just some guy with a camera making girls flash their tits. which i could probably watch for a while and be entertained, given the supposedly candid nature of it and the ambush element and a varying assortment of breasts to evaluate. that is kind of what i was hoping for, in fact. instead i got a run-of-the-mill porn clip. sigh.

the girls had french manicures and arrow-shaped bikini waxes and belly rings. they had no roots in their bleached blonde hair. they were altogether too eager to eat pussy, which i think it is fair to say has intimidated most of us at least a little on our first trip out.

so maybe he had them practice a few times beforehand? good for him, good for them? or maybe they are wannabe porn stars who think this will be their big break? bad for them, because it won’t be. he is not in the starmaking business and they will probably be paid far less than the girls who work steady for the same video company and have stupid names that sound edible (i hear some of them actually get contracts!).

this whole feeling is sort of like “reality” tv, which we all know is no longer candid or unscripted or unmanipulated. the first few girls gone wild videos must have been sort of like watching the first couple of seasons of the real world, before they started deliberately planting rumors and picking people who would fight with each other and sabotaging relationships to ensure that they did fight and so on.

also it bugged me that neither one of them came, or even pretended to. they simply writhed together, licking and sucking and sitting on each other’s faces and sixty-nining and so on for a while, and then they just stopped doing it. it was truly fucking odd. at which point cameraguy turned off the camera and i am fairly sure tried to talk himself in between them…

i do hope that he did not succeed.

i found the sephora gift card my sister got me for my birthday!!!!

it is like finding free money. better, even – free, SPARKLY money that makes your complexion glow and your shower smell good.

i bought hard candy’s lunch box and pop beauty’s popette palette in naturally popette, and also CARGO wet/dry powder foundation. i am SO over the stupid mineral makeup shit. philosophy has one that i might try later if i am feeling gluttonous…

ugh! makeup is the same thing as hair as career as finances as skill as talent as superstardom!!!

it all goes back to the stupid POTENTIAL thing. i promise to explain, someday soon.

xoxoxo

to write an entire post about that fucking word potential. i have had a love-hate affair with it since i was but a babe.

pillar of salt and all that rot.

he called me obsessively the other day. he knew, somehow. it was in the air even though he is so very far far away. i imagine that he was feeling paranoid, having already been dumped once.

i tried to avoid having The Conversation(tm) but in the end it wheedled its way in, like a zigzag stitch on the sleeves of those sweaters i like at j. crew. he opened the door by telling me about how the last person promised and didn’t deliver and now it was too late, and that he would have been cool with it had he only known from the start (ahem – your line is?)

i swear to you he was waiting for me to say it. does he read us?? improbable. not impossible i suppose…

i tried to be diplomatic and honest and i tried to point out how he believes in me so much that it is really hard to turn away at all, for any reason. he declared some of my issues irrelevant and said that i was at 30% of my potential. my real reason he proclaimed an excuse that i was hiding behind. he was not once rude or malicious or angry or mean. he was sad and honest about it.

i felt like pond scum for about 24 hours. then my real life picked up a wiffleball bat and thwapped the back of my head, hard. and i slept like a baby after that.

a while back i spent a huge amount of money (200-ish) on a pair of jeans. and it was well worth it. they are just so cute and stylish.

and more recently i spent a lesser amount (around 70-ish) on jeans but still kinda a lot. and that was also well worth it. calvin klien and ralph lauren make good jeans these days! One pairs is a size too big. but i really needed a baggy super comfy pair of jeans so they are perfect. both are a good length.

also i have a pair of (30$) cheap jeans from old navy. they are pretty good too.

no more jeans for me.

i love him, i do. but he has. got. to. stop.

how in the hell do you spend this long with someone before you realize how fucking different they are than you thought? how is it that someone close to you told you so YEARS ago and you pooh-poohed them, but now you see that they were right all along (which kills you by the way because they are an aries and they like to gloat a lot)?

i want to be there for him, but being there for him does not preclude taking care of me and mine. isn’t that my first priority? someone i used to know would say it is not the christian thing to do but let me point out that i think god had something besides a doormat in mind when he said to turn the other cheek. of course his plan included his son’s submission to the point of death, so maybe i am wrong.

basically he wants from me something that i do not have to give him. i have tried so diplomatically for a very long time to explain this to him, but he is not practiced in taking no for an answer, so he keeps messing it up. which means i basically have to go against my personal nature and be blunt and rude to get my point across. GOD i hate confrontation of any kind, even feared confrontation which may not actually exist or come to pass. just the thought of having this discussion makes my stomach quiver a little like i need a shot of mylanta.

there is the ‘be honest’ camp which assures me that because he is worth his salt he will understand. total honesty means me saying I DON’T WANT TO, NOW STOP ASKING ME which will make me feel like complete ass for short-term. this will also possibly make him feel like ass for longer-term which i could not bear really. and thus the relationship fractures.

there is the ‘be supportive’ camp which tells me that i need to give him what he wants regardless of the fact that i don’t want to. although i sort of can’t even afford to really, in both emotional and financial senses, he would do it for me. wouldn’t he? hasn’t he? but wait! i never asked him to… EVER. also this will make him feel great short-term and i will feel like twice-baked ass for long long term. and once he finds out that i never wanted to do it to begin with he will feel like deep-fried ass (at which point all we need is to drag down a third and we can have a nice appetizing ass sampler, maybe a bloomin’ ass or some spicy buffalo ass or some onion ass with horseradish sauce). and thus the relationship fractures.

i think it ends the same way, which means i can only really change the ride getting there. and i prefer the path of least agita. (mylanta & co. might advise me otherwise)

i also need to say that i have real trouble lately leaving work at work. it follows me home and sneaks up behind me to yell BOO when i am getting out of the shower at night. it is hard to stop saying diplomatic and tactful things to people that you really know when you have a job in PR.

sigh.

fuckers!!!!!

i came here to write not to delete ten pages of fucking m-o-r-t-g-a-g-e advertisements!!!

garrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh