Boys

Dear Self,

Dear self,

You're kind of a disappointment. Your current theme is "Pissing in the Wind" by badly drawn boy - so I guess at least that's okay...you've still got decent music tastes, I guess. You're taking entirely too long at everything you're doing, and the quality if only sub-par. You're not going to get much higher a grade on this paper about Islam than a B, and you're just going to have to settle for it.

For the last time, your parents don't want to help you buy a damn car. You've asked your mom, she kind of denied you, then later you talked to dad about it, he got angry and yelled, and then again when you brought it up to mom today, she actually seemed like she was considering it, seeing as how you're almost 21, you have actual need of a car, and you'll be moving to Utah soon...but that was just a farse. She doesn't really want you to have a car. Your sister IS selling her car in a while, but you'll never be able to afford it...hell, you have $400 some-odd dollars in your student loan fund, but you think you're going to use that towards something constructive? Don't make me laugh. You'll be a monitor for your computer that you need, because your current monitor hurts your eyes, and doesn't even belong to you.

You might think you will have enough money in student loans next semester, but that's a fallacy as well. You might not even think you'll need to ask your parents for rent, giving you some false sense of security, but that's bunk as well. You're reliant on them, and you'll never be out from under their need until you become a male prostitute, or a chip'n dale dancer (which you'll never have the body for).

You try to dazzle people with witty banter, but you neglect to tell them that you only scored a 22 on the ACT. You suck, you see. There's not gentler way to put it. You even suck at the things you do recreationally. Guitar? Don't make me laugh...no psaltry tunes for you. (insert school-related activity here)? Nobody in it likes you, seriously. You, once again, try to be comedic, but under your insecurities, your need for approval, and your neurosis, you're nothing but a distraction from the peopel who really know what they're doing up there. You've been contemplating not doing it next semester, and that's probably one of the most rational decisions you could make.

You're also a let-down. Due to your other 'plans,' no matter how 'important' they might be, you're letting people down. Always. Your parents are disappointed because you don't go to church every Sunday (and make a point of guilt-tripping you whenever they DO talk to you, or just yelling, outright), and dangle that over your head, your little brother doesn't have a proper role-model to look up to, due to all your dysforia, and you've let your friendships slip between your fingers. You've promised grandeur for some, coninued communication with others, and have disappointed all. Congratulations. You can't even manage to talk to the love of your life for more than 10 minutes without begging for them to take you back after dumping you in the firstplace because you were terribly unsubstantial for their needs.

You should really stop writing this letter to yourself, you know. You reallize how much of a plea for appreciation it is, and yet you continue writing away. You feel that pain in your right wrist? Yup. It's probably carpel-tunnel (learn to spell, you jackass). You can stop with the hypochondria as well. You tell yourself that it's a sign of high intelligence, and you may have even lied yourself into believing it, but really, it's just you being ridiculous.

I can't put this any other way but the next two weeks are going to be hell for you. You'll feel terribly insignificant, and you'll fail miserably at the tasks you'll attempt to accomplish. You might as well disregard any of those silly little horoscopes you sometimes think of. "Wow, they're accurate," is another misnomer. You just ache for someplace to fit in. It's with this that I have to leave you. I'm cooking a chicken pot pie, you see, and eventhough it's frozen, and easily done, and eventhough you could have PROBABLY (well, maybe) concoted one yourself, it's nearing the burning point.
Less than salutatious,
Yourself.

Dormaholic

I hate that this ends up being my place to go when I hit a low...but I guess that that's my parogative, right? It's my blog, therefore I can do with it what I want, right? I'll just try and mention some nice things that have happened along with all the crappy...there are at least some, right? I guess my concern comes out of my constant need for other people's approval...I don't want people who I know and love (and others who I don't know) to read this, find things that I've done, and then think less of me - but if they were to think less of me in the first place, they would understand that I screw up sometimes. I fall through alot. I'm not the most dependable, or most 'straight arrow' kid...if you read this, and you're okay with me after these events have transpired, then we can still be friends...if you think that I'm a bad person for them, or for being gay, for that matter, then maybe ourfriendship needs some work...that is, if we're friends already.

It's 11:26am, and I'm at work. Things are already starting to be not so fun. I got sent home to shave because apparantly I was too scruffy...oh well. Whatever. This school has rule for employees, and I understand that. I guess I didn't think I was that scraggly, but oh well. I got to work late, on account of my sleep has been terrible lately. I wake up with 5 minutes to spare (it takes about 12 minutes to walk to work), so I dont' think there's been more than a handfull of times that I've not been late for work. The alarm is my enemy...the snooze button my co-conspiritor (have you ever reallized just how awkward the word "snooze" looks when you're 3/4 asleep? it's almost disturbing).

I tried calling in to work to tell my boss that I would be a little bit late, but the line was busy, so it was only once i was already 7 minutes late, that I finally got ahold of her to let her know that I would be unpunctual...at least I called this time.

Got to work...felt like crap. My cd player was skipping the whole way there (the CD i threw in was old, survived my car crash, and so better couldn't really be expected). Get sent home to shave, decided, once I got there, all covered in body grossness, that I would just take a shower, and say "what the heck...why not." I guess that was nice...being able to stay on the clock while showering. I checked the answering machine as I was about to run out the door to get the phone number of a man who found my wallet (which is actually excellent news), and wrote that on a slip of paper as I rushed out the door, still sweating from the heat of the shower, and my run up to my apartment (note to self: buy a car). I ran back to work...it's slow. I'm on a computer, listenin to Lisa Loeb and Gin Blossoms on Pandora.com

I've been trying to date some lately...and that's been pretty much disasterous. Earlier this semester, I tried striking up a relationship with a kid who I really didn't find that attractive (wow, my vanity showeth), but was really nice. I barely knew him, and as such, we pretty much just watched movies and made out, or made out while watching infomercials late at night. Nutshell story - disasterous. We're still friends, and I actually saw him last night, but now things are a little awkward. He'll be leaving at the end of the semester. We tried jumping into something that neither of us entirely knew what we were doing, and I guess we're reaping the social consequences.

Next dating experience. A guy who lives in the next-over town...goes to school here, but is living at home in his off-semester (can I just say how much I hate the 'track' system here at BYU-Idaho? One more reason to jump out when I can, I guess)...he's got enchanting blue-green eyes, a really great smile, and a pretty nice build. He, also, is extremely nice...nicer than the last guy, even. He's got a little bit of speech impediment, and we have next to NOTHING in common, aside from the fact that he loves Super Smash Brothers on the GameCube as much as I do...his major isn't anything even related to mine, but oh well...with him, I, once again, seemed to just jump into a physical relationship...parially because he was willing, partially because I get easily excitable, and partially, my postulation is, because I'm destined to ruin every dating scenario I could possibly be thrown in to.

He's stayed the night a few times (no, there has been no sex involve, thank goodness, as sex is something that pretty much terrifies me as much as it entices me...though we have done most things just shy of the 3-letter word), and each time, I've missed class, or called in sick to work, because I didn't want to get out of bed the next day...maybe a little bit because of feeling guilty, a little bit because I'm a somatoholic (addicted to sleep?)

Fast Forward to 2:29am

I finished work...went to class...it actually made me feel a little better...now after watching 2 movies, and then getting shot down by a practical stranger, I'm in shitsville again. Damn me for being human. Damn me for wanting what I want, and for wanting to be loved the way that I need. "God will wipe away our tears," I was told tonight...well, where's the hand been this past year?

Things with the last guy I dated fizzled, to be blunt, and to the point. I felt like he was becoming a "friend with benefits," because we barely knew eachother, and got way physical way fast...so I made the decision to nip it in the butt...I just am scared that I'm going to leap into another relationship because I don't want to be lonely....fuck.

Yeah...the night's not ending well...I've got my depressing mix on, and I'm going to go to sleep. I'll try updating more soon (and this time I actually mean soon).