Limbo

There's been nothing to blahg about lately, really. Friend 1 and I move to our downtown sublet on SATURDAY!, I'm trying to get another jorb down there so I can quit NY&Co. and henceforth not have to worry about taking the bus at 10 at night/getting raped, I've been chatting with another CL boy who may not be what I'm really looking for PHYSICALLY, but he is funny and teases me and it's v. v. entertaining talking to him.

And Tuffy is curable, but it'll cost like five grand. I don't blame Female Unit for being hesitant about going through with treatment. That is a LOT of money. Maybe it would be best to not put her through that and just spoil her rotten and love her immensely (which I already do but will somehow find a way to increase) and let her have happy remaining days in her own home.

I am very conflicted.

And sad. But I'm trying really hard not to think about it and just be excited about being in the thick of Madisonia action.

I STILL NEED BOXES AND TO START PACKING/PLANNING THINGS TO PACK! I are terrible planner.

Oh Boo.

The apartment we wanted is gone :[

I wanted it sooo baaaddd. Oh well. We'll find another place. It won't be as cool, but we'll make sure it's awesome.

Garr I Never Feel Encouraged.

So I'm applying for more jobs downtown cuz I wanna live down there and quit NY&Co. so I can establish myself there (Friend 1 and I wanna try to get a cheapy one bedroom sublet for summer) and Female Unit is totally discouraging me.

So I'm kinda of in too downer of a mood to blahg. :[

But I will leave you on a happy Note:



I hung out with Perfect Guy on Saturday.

Just... Never Mind.

He didn't email back. I guess he didn't think I was worth it after I sent my picture. Or he didn't like what I wrote back. Something made him not want to bother.

It shouldn't make me feel so sad but it does. I feel rejected. No, not even rejected.

Just empty.

I Still... Don't Have The Words.

So Tuffy has a lymphatic tumor. 90% chance it's malignant.

So my baby basically has cancer.

I have no idea what we're gonna do. I'm just being as sweet to her as possible cuz I have no time frame yet of what's going on.

I'm so fucking scared.

Discontent

I feel completely bloated and fat and gross. I hate it. I hate my period and getting cravings for food and then gorging myself.

I hate that I have to go to work soon. And that I'm still sick. And that I totally wasted this nice weather day sitting in the house doing nothing.

Blarrrrrghhhh.

Speaking Of Dogs...

My beautiful, beloved, and somehow not mentioned til now Yorkshire Terrier, Tuffy, went to the vet yesterday. Shots, blood drawn, the works. It was just standard checkup shit but of course it hurt her. Now she's slinking around, ears down, and shaking all the time cuz it probably still aches. I feel so terrible.

And?

The vet found a lump in her neck. I'm so scared. I don't know what I'd do if it's actually something. I'm praying it's not. I love her too much.

I seriously don't know what I'm going to do when she dies. I'll probably lose my shit.

She's already nine years old.

Rainbow Party Results:

Uhm. For me at least, it kind of blew. I was so stressed over everything, I planned by myself, I cleaned by myself, I decorated by myself. It SHOULD have been good.

But dude whose house we were using took it upon himself to invite his retarded friends who messed up the place and dude expected ME to clean it up. First of all, I had planned on cleaning up anyway, but it's bullshit when the people who were ACTUALLY INVITED BY THE HOSTESSES didn't make the mess. Secondly, the house is fucking DISGUSTING, Post-party or not. I cleaned the hell out of the place pre-party, doing things that he should've done himself. The place is ALWAYS nasty and I single-handedly made it tolerable. LASTLY, HE WAS BEING A DICK ABOUT THE WHOLE THING. He kept throwing shit on the floor saying 'you're just going to sweep it up later.' You can't sweep up nasty alcohol soaked fruit. Shit sticks to the floor. You have to go after it by hand and I am not about to do that just cuz he felt like being an asshole.

So- He gave me an ultimatum. On my Facebook Wall of all places. Something like 'COME CLEAN OR YOU'RE BANNED FROM MY SAINT PATTIE'S PARTY.' Fuck that noise. I don't have any desire to see his selfish ass or go to another lame party (his version involves getting a keg and just telling people to come over. Woo, fun times).

Sidenote: Throughout the whole planning thing he was a douche and a half. He said we could start soaking the fruit for the punch on Thursday, then changed his mind and said we'd do it Friday. Friday rolls around and he decides he's going to throw an impromptu party for this one guy and buys a keg. He's 'so busy' 'planning' that we can't do it. Saturday, it turns out that NO ONE FUCKING DRANK THE BEER so he wants to sell HIS cups at OUR party. Let me make this clear: there is no way in fuck I can actually afford this party. I spent ALL the money I had expecting to make it back (Side-Side Note: Friend 1, Friend 2, and I threw this party. Friend 1 ended up spending NO MONEY on ANYTHING and ended up being the one to divvy money between Friend 2 and me. She gave HER ten bucks more than she spent, and me ten bucks LESS than I spent. So I came out in the negatives. And I can't even say anything to Friend 2 cuz she bought booze and I bought decorations and candy and everything else but she'll be all 'booze is more important' and then douche who owns the house [who is also fucking Friend 2] will agree with her and then everyone will gang up on me as usual. Fuck that. But more about the bogusness of Friend 1 soon.). He ended up giving us the keg for whatever retarded reason.

Next on the list of complaints...

Ah Friend 1. How sad you make me. And you call yourself my best friend?

Please note that I have forgiven her and everything is 'good' now. It still hurts to be betrayed but whatever. But a girl still needs to vent.

Friend 1 gave me the screen name of Some Guy, a friend of hers. We started talking a couple weeks ago and he was coming to the party. I was super worried he wouldn't like me or find me attractive but super excited he was coming. So he gets to the party. We talk a bunch and maybe flirt (I don't even know how to distinguish flirting anymore) and we were both crashing there so in my head I was like, sweet, I'm gonna get some.

Wrong again, Little Snarkster.

We are sitting on a couple mattresses (Some Guy, Friend 1, another chick friend, a dude friend of Some Guy, and I) and Friend 1 is next to Some Guy. I keep looking from him to her trying to hint, and finally I just whisper 'you should switch places with me.' Her response? 'I don't feel like it.' BRILLIANT!

So, the five of us are laying on two mattresses side by side. Well, basically there are two couples, each one on a mattress, and me laying in the crevice. Oh oh, but it gets better (worse)! Not only do chick friend and Some Guy's friend start kissing and like stroking each other, FRIEND 1 AND SOME GUY BEGIN FUCKING MAKING OUT. RIGHT NEXT TO ME. WHEN SHE KNEW I WAS INTERESTED. This is the same friend who I told that I might actually like Some Guy. She told me to go for it. Yeah. Thanks.

AND, I repeatedly ASKED THEM TO STOP. I have no idea how many times I threw around the term 'inconsiderate friend.' But did she listen? Did she stop? Of course not. And I mean they were having LOUD, SLURPY makeouts with audible groping. With me, the one who was supposed to be set up by my best friend with the guy she is currently macking on THE SAME FUCKING MATTRESS.

Other chick friend was WAAAAAAAAAY more considerate. She kept apologizing and they definitely kept their makeouts to a minimum.

It's not even so much that there were people around me making out while I wasn't (okay, that was a factor. I am completely lonely and that just made it ten times worse) but that someone who is supposed to be my BEST FRIEND would betray me and knowingly hurt me like that. It isn't even about the guy; it's about what a shitty, inconsiderate friend she is.

But wait! There's more!

I was like a quarter of the way asleep, and all of the sudden, the mattress starts moving. Rhythmically. Up and down.

Yeah. My best friend. The guy she set me up with that she knew I was into. Fucking. Right next to me.

Yup.

Other grievances: She didn't pay for ANYTHING AT ALL, yet ended up taking the extra booze home and shafting me on getting my money back. That morning when we were buying decorations and shit, she just wouldn't stop ripping on me and saying how hostile I was (which I am, but I wasn't in the situations where she claimed I was) which got House Owner Douche to join in (they used to date too) which got Friend 2 involved. So it was basically everyone against me. Again. I was fighting back tears that entire day. And then I got to go to Douche's house and clean by myself because no one would help me. Yay! She also did nothing for the part except set some fruit and gummy worms in booze and mix one thing of punch. Oh wow, so hard.

So yeah, didn't have fun, didn't even get drunk, best friend slept with the guy she knew I liked, didn't make my money back, expected to clean up EVERYTHING (and now that I didn't, I know I'm basically banned from every party he ever throws. Boo hoo). Fuck this party. I basically spent the entirety of yesterday afternoon (til I was rescued by some homies and Wii) crying.

I didn't even get to see my own pinata, let alone hit it or get candy from it.

Other people had fun so I guess that's all that matters.

Also, I had the most colourful outfit by far. I think I looked really cute. Not that it mattered.

And that was The Rainbow Birthday Party Extravaganza.

Drawing A Blank

Still haven't thought up a new name... and admittedly haven't really tried. I swear I will... eventually.

So- here is what led up to me finally getting some balls and telling my mother I need to come home. This weekend wasn't bad until Saturday night. I was chilling on a Man Floor of my dorm with my friends. These guys in the hall were wrestling (again, as I had drunkenly joined in and bit the fuck out of some guy's arm [I didn't recall this til the next morning... ahhh, underage drinking. What a joy] the night before) and when I tried to watch, they YELLED at me to leave. Which I did. For like, two minutes, because I am a naturally curious person (see also, disrespecting of people's wishes) when they yelled at me AGAIN. What the fuck. I learned my lesson and went away. That's when I heard my fucking roommate's voice in the hall with the guys.

Sidenote: The Roommate
My roommate is preppy, blonde, and tiny, with HUGE tits. She has the most obnoxiously squeaky, girly voice I've ever heard. We rarely talk, and when we do it's only about how many guys want to fuck her and how many bottles of liquor she polished off by herself the night before. Sweet Jesus, she is the most self-absorbed person I have ever met in my life. Not only that, she's spoiled as sin with about eighty closets worth of Abercrombie shoved in her closet here. And she's still obsessed with getting more.

I want to kill her.

The point is, she is one of those generic lame chicks that guys EVERYWHERE are predisposed to liking for no apparent reason. She is not funny or smart or particularly nice. She barely has a personality to speak of, yet she is fawned over by all who possess a cock. Bullllshit.

So back to my 'story...'

She was welcomed into the hall, where I was not.

This sounds sooo melodramatic, but if you met her (and you have at least as much intellect as a marshmallow [either one big one or a handful of those little ones]) you would understand how much of a travesty this is in my eyes.

Not to sound self-important, but I am not that bad. Reasonably attractive (on some days), able to hold a substantial conversation, pretty witty when I try, people should luuurve to hang out with me. Which my friends do.

But my friends make up like .000033 percent of the student population here, and as stated before, it's not enough.

So I went home, cried myself to sleep, and decided that I was around so many utterly retarded and shallow people long enough.

And I feel that I have whined enough for now, so next time we'll tackle Monday- explaining to my mumsy and college friends that I want (desire, REQUIRE) out!

Sidenote II- Those Taco Bell Fiesta Platters are much too much food for one person. Guuuh I feel like my belly is about to go Mount Vesuvius on my ass. Not like in the diarrhea way. I guess that was a pretty SHITTY metaphor. Bahaha.

RESULTS:

SHE DIDN'T EVEN LOOK AT MY ARM. She took my word for it. AKA I can't wear tank tops and tee shirts for NO REASON.

Anyway, she gave me all these different ways to tell the Units that I need to go home, like making an appointment with my shrink at home and emailing my mom and shit. Stuff I will probably do.

So that's where I am. The counselor totally backs my want to withdraw from school before I flunk out and fuck myself for eternity.

So, in other news, I went to the school store and bought processed cheese slices and Oscar Mayer (the ONLY reason I remembered how to spell that is because I totally just sang the 'my bologna has a first name' song) summer sausage and I am very excited. I LOVE sandwiches, but I also love breadless sandwiches... AKA meat and cheese.

My roommate (more on her later... oh god) needs to LEAVE so I can smoke some weed (I have perfected a way of doing it in my dorm room) and eat my snackums.

Yes, I do 'drugs' (which it HARDLY is) and I've been doing it a lot more recently, due to not attending classes and having nothing to do, and OH YEAH, because it's fucking fun and feels amAzing.

I just sit stoned and watch Tom Goes To The Mayor, Xavier: Renegade Angel (EVERYONE check those shows out. TGTTM is completely ridic and Xavier is just... there are not words), and House, M.D. (who I would totally bang. I love the emotionless witty guys)

Don't judge me. It's fun.

Regarding Self-Mutilation

Wednesday, 9 28 AM, February 27th 2008

Yes, I used to do it a lot. No, not so much more anymore.

Last night's fiasco is just a bit of drama. People have this fear of self-mutilation. It's extremely taboo and gets a lot of attention. Henceforth, I am trying to use it to my advantage.

No, it really isn't that bad. I didn't even bleed.

So don't worry about this.

Worry about THIS with me instead:

"I want you to think long and hard before you give up on going to [University]. Sometimes the window of opportunity doesn't come again. I regret that I didn't get a 4 year degree. It's becoming more of a necessity with each passing year. It's a baseline almost like the high school diploma in years gone by. I don't want you to regret later that [your brothers] got to go to college and you didn't. If you aren't sure of just what you want to do in a career, you will be spinning your wheels at [Technical College] taking random classes. It will be no different than high school with a lot of older people trying to retrain for the current job market. I think you would be much more likely to get inspired by a class/professor at [University] than at [Technical College]. Bottom line is that you triple your earnings over a lifetime by having the 4 year degree. Now is the time for you to go if you want support from Dad and I. [Older Brother] graduates this year and we have two years before [Younger Brother] starts. You're still covered by our insurance and we are a few years out from having to worry about retirement. Take it from me, it's a lot easier to get it out of the way now before life adds more distractions.

Love,
Mom"

WHAT DO I DO WITH THAT? I swear I have my life planned out. Not everything is about money, as my Parental Units think. I want happiness, they say having a stable bank account makes you happy. I see where they're coming from

but I don't agree.

Who knows? In 20 years I may regret not going to school, but more likely I'll look back fondly on all the life experiences I'll have (if I get to do what I want with my own life... which is rare). I'm just not a 2.5 kids, picket fence kind of chick. This whole 4 years idea is strangling me.

Fun Fact: I live in Wisconsin. I was born and raised in Madison, basically the only place worth going in Wisconsin (besides Door County, a family vacation destination which I love). I DO NOT WANT TO LIVE IN WISCONSIN. And if I have to, I at least want to be in Madison.

I want to live in California. I don't care how many of you natives say it's just a state. It's a change of pace for me, and somewhere where my writing could go places besides a local newspaper.

My counselor appointment is in twenty minutes.

I'm going to throw up.

And So It Begins

Wednesday, 12 30 AM, February 27th 2008

I have made a pseudocide attempt in order to escape college. Hopefully when I present the counselor (at 10 AM no less) with my mangled left forearm, she will call my Parental Units and they will immediately let me come home.

It was never my intention to drop out of school. The summer before, I was super excited. I was ready to be done with the trivialities of high school and make some new, awesome friends.

God, what a disappointment.

First semester, I had a fling with a taken guy. Got sick of that, so I left. That of course meant I left his friends, the only people I had ever hung out with. So I was friendless.

Now, second semester, some sort of miracle has happened, and I have a group of lovely, hilarious chums. They mean a fuck of a lot to me

But I still hate it here. Nothing can change that. I need to leave.

As of writing this, I have not been to class in seven days. Not a single one. I am fucked in allll of them now, so I might as well come home, right?

I know what I want to do with my life.

Write.

And I know everyone thinks this,

But I have the talent to do it. Professionally.

But before I can even start to achieve my dreams…


I have to drop out of college.

Wish me luck.