I am woman enough to admit that last night, I stayed up watching a DVD of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" (twice) while stuffing my alarmingly humongous, useless face with Snickers bars and painting my nails on my horribly fat sausage fingers -- and yes, I almost cried. Okay fine, I actually cried (only a little bit!!!) when Ian proposed to Toula. What has happened to my life?
I am also woman enough to admit that I love stupid nerd rock bands that sing songs about love and how everyone hates them (think Weezer -- a longtime love of mine), and that I believe that aforementioned nerd rock bands follow me around daily and write songs specifically about me and my situation at the present time.
Case in point: Ozma
Take my hand and follow me to bed
Say you didn't really mean it when you told me to go drop dead
Smile that smile that only you can smile
Say you'll love me in the morning after we've slept in a while
Take my hand and follow me instead
Say you'll love me in the morning after we've cleared out our heads
Nightmares, they've been plaguing me
I'm trapped in a fearful mind
But only til the morningtime
Wake up and love me, baby
So what if we fought last night
We'll start today off right
Let's put it all behind us
Do something to help remind us of how we fell in love
Smile that smile -- We're only here a while
Say you're never gonna ditch me when true love goes out of style
Nightmares, they've been chasing me
I'm lost in a labyrinth mind
But only 'til the morningtime
Wake up and love me, baby
So what if we fought last night
We'll start today off right
Let's put it all behind us
Do something to help remind us of how we fell in love
We fell in love
As for my readers who are unhappy with the way the subject matter has swung (e.g. I have become a big, awful, blubbering vagina -- wah wah wah) these past few weeks, shut the fuck up. I'll post something about my mom peeing in a plastic bag in the car or my dad blowing his nose in the newspaper in public places soon enough. I'm sure it'll happen again eventually -- unfortunately.
I'd like to take advantage of this site to say that I am sorry for having deeply wronged a vast number of individuals throughout my lifetime (though my big fuckups seem to be occurring right about.... now), one of them in question a devastatingly handsome, very intelligent man in glasses who is very important to me and whom I love very much with all of my little heart forever and ever amen.
I'd also like to say that the pair of shorts that I am wearing right now are so strangely misshapen and balloonish that they make me look like a monkey wearing a large diaper.
I've been bragging about the fact that my spring semester roommate hasn't moved in yet, so I virtually have my little shitty dorm bedroom all to myself to:
(1) clutter up with all of my stupid useless shit,
(2) come out of a suffocatingly steamy bathroom completely naked (would be nice if I could just remember to shut the damn blinds, especially since my windows face a HELL of a lot of other windows),
(3) rock out on my electric guitar at all hours of the night,
(4) eat my suitemates' food in the privacy of my own room (just kidding, YOUR FOOD IS GROSS, GUYS),
among countless other little perks.
But today I find myself feeling so completely alone in this big city that I wouldn't mind putting up with some female company (which I usually loathe), even that of a potentially Asian girl (which I almost always loathe), even if she didn't speak to me and just typed away on her computer completely ignoring me. (Bitch.)
It's not neccessarily the fact that I need someone to commiserate with (although that would be nice, too), it's just that the bare mattress and empty desk just seem to make it that much more salient that what felt like half of my entire being is now gone, lost, and I feel like there's nothing I can do to bring it back.
People have suggested to me that I go out partying or clubbing or bar hopping and pick up some doofuses, but once that special part of my life was taken away, it seems just a little bit useless to entertain some khaki-wearing undergraduate asshole wearing a party hat and a festive sweater for the sake of getting laid and having my teeth unsavorily licked.
I'm sitting on top of my 6 foot long stuffed dog named Sicky on the foot-end of my bed with my laptop hanging off the side of my desk, huddled in a nook that's formed by my desk/bookshelf and the wall because my modem cable is too short for me to take my constantly overheating laptop into bed with me (to cuddle with romantically) and my bony ass was hurting in my ergonomically incorrect dorm-issued rocking chair. I don't want to listen to any music because every song makes me sad, so the air conditioner that is set to "warm" (my heater is broken) is keeping me company, along with my completely empty mini-fridge that kicks in every now and then.
I don't know about you, but to me, this image screams "the makings of a crazy cat lady that always seems to smell like cat piss and scares the neighborhood children." I would be ten times as scary than imagined if my cat allergy kicked in, made hives come out all over my face and body, and caused my eyes to be swollen puffily shut.
I think this is how I'm destined to spend the rest of my life -- sitting around a half-unoccupied dorm room, reading "WEBLOGS" (how I hate that word) all day, surrounded by my useless shit, playing my banjo-sized electric guitar while I'm wet and naked, stuffing my fat, useless face full of pilfered ice cream with a stolen spoon and my favorite food of all time, microwaved frozen mixed vegetables.
I'd like to point out that my mini-fridge has little magnet words stuck on it, forming little inspirational messages such as "never a better time to kick a woman until now" and "people think she be the #1 butt master."
This is the worst fucking post I have ever written. And I hate you all. God fucking dammit. The cows have come home, the chicken crossed the road, and the fat lady (hi) has sung, so fuck you.
Who wants to be my friend? And by that I mean "who wants to push me in front of a speeding bus full of senior citizen tourists?" I can't promise that I won't drag you under with me, though. Sorry.
Unless you're blind or stupid or both, you will have noticed the AWESOME image above that replaced the old eskimo image. It was made by my incredibly talented comic drawing Aussie hunkalicious friend, Linzo!!
[Peek-a-Foo]