Men seeking Women

28 01 2012

Preparation: Have a fake email. And maybe a glass of wine, gin, or whiskey. (depending on mood)

Step 1. Only look for the ones with pictures.

Step 2. Don’t take anything personally.

Step 3. Expand your parameters if no one with photos strikes your fancy to those with specific desires.

Step 4. Email at will

Step 5. Drink more.

Step 6. expand search while waiting for response to all personals

Step 7. Touch self to any and all photos…well the ones that you wish you were touching in person.

Step 8. Be sure to have plenty of no face nudes to share.

Step 9. Try to get them to meet.

Step 10. Realize that you don’t actually want to meet any one of these assholes because you’re just curing boredom.

(Also usually they chicken out.)

Sleep.

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Snickers and Gossip Girl

26 01 2012

Yesterday I woke up in such a good mood! And I did laundry the for the first time since I’ve been back to Boston…I know. 

I got dressed and ready to head out for my meeting that I was supposed to be at I thought noon, but my laundry wasn’t done… and the idea of rushing to leave when it was 11, then 11:30, 11:45…

I ended up sending an email to the person I was supposed to be meeting that I had a migraine. 

But I told myself that I would make it to the artist talk at the MFA…

The night ended with me eating plenty of tiny snickers (for dinner) drinking  Bombay with lime, and watching Gossip Girl… with intermitted tears. (not at gossip girl at least)

OH and drunk texting my friend commentary.

 

Note to self: Gossip Girl binges do not cure depression.





Dancin’ in Bad lighting.

18 01 2012





Obscene Politeness

17 01 2012

Excuse my angsty ass, sometimes I fall back into my old ways of woe is me.

 

But seriously I have no idea what I want to do. I think Teach for America is my best bet. And I hope I can do it.  I’ll figure something out. I usually do.

 

I need to learn to detect my raging depression for no reason, and also when the red tide comes, because seriously what a black hole. 

 

I have a bruise on my lip from the Turkish guy I went to brunch with on Sunday. Yes another biter. Better kisser than the last biter, but not by much. The first kiss was kind of nice actually, then ATTACK in the mouth… That was less fun.  

But did I say stop? No, not specifically. Did I say no? No, not specifically. I got all shy and sheepish, overly polite. I would turn my head. And all I could think about was how I really wanted to just go home, bleed in peace, and watch the closer.

But when he asked if I wanted to go and cook something together, and watch a movie at his house, I was able to suggest that we hold off on that and just go to a movie instead. 

So yea? I was able to deflect enough to be in a slightly more comfortable situation. 

He was very nice, just I don’t like having bruises on my lips from being “kissed”.

I was relieved to get home.

I don’t understand why I get more polite the more uncomfortable I am in a situation, and how I become rude and crass when I’m comfortable. I’m blunt when comfortable, and horribly vague when uncomfortable.  How is this possible? Even after everything I’ve been through? This is a question I’ll be asking my therapist once back in session. I wish I had asked to see him before school started back, too.

 

Its been hard not having any one here to talk to.





right now I don…

15 01 2012

right now I don’t like anything and feel like I’ve been kidding myself and wasting so much money and making stupid stupid pointless objects and I feel really selfish and foolish. 

I’m thinking that I want to talk to my grandma and see if I could live with her, Work my ass off be with my dog, 

 

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck 

 

Now I’ll need a car again. 

I feel sick.

So much money. So much fucking money, none that I have. I can’t do anything. Nothing useful that makes money enough to live on. 

I’m going to have to go back to some other fucking school to learn some fucking trade just to make a living. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but seriously what the fuck, that’s so much fucking money.that I’ve just thrown at institution after institution…..fuck fuck fuck.

Money that wasn’t mine. 

I’m a fucking financial burden to the goddamned world.

 

That’s all I’ve amounted to.

A debt hoarding asshole.

 

OH and divorced by the time I was 22.

Yea, be proud mom dad.

 

fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

 

I just want to be with my dog.





Intake.

10 01 2012

I finally called the crisis center about groups. They have a group I think I’d be able to be cool with. So I’ll see how it goes at my intake tomorrow.
What a weird word. Intake.





10 01 2012

I need to get organized. Like seriously. So I thought if I displayed my shameful mess to the world then I would have some sort of accountability, right?

But in all seriousness I can’t stand this. It is too much.