Meh.
I stole the movie meme from evilvillan_1, but the format was all screwed up. So I deleted it. I think I had 170 movies though, maybe more. I am cranky about this. *pouts*
Thanksgiving went alright. No panic attack. There were less than 20 people there, and we were all spread out through my aunt and uncle's house, so I didn't have to interact with all of them at once. Beppe, my grandmother, was using a walker. She also didn't have her wig on. I think she just wants to die now. At least she wasn't bitching at anyone about their weddings. Or tattoos. Heh. My cousin JP got one, so we spent most of the afternoon telling tattoo stories and trying to convince our cousin Jon that he should get one. JP's little boys are getting cuter and not quite so bratty. His ex-wife D. now hangs out in Corvallis, with the students and her lover. The woman is a stupid cunt. That's all I have to say about that. She broke his heart and fucked up their kids. *stopping before I go into a rant* Heh.
It was a little weird though, being "social" with people. I'm sure the three slices of pumpkin pie helped though.
Oh, yes. This is what I meant to say! To the people on my Flist who sent me the friendship email: I love both of you dearly, and appreciate your friendship very much, but I can't send it back to you nor to anyone else. I hate chain letters, and cannot make myself continue them. I just can't. But I do appreciate you both sending it to me. :)
A week or so ago, as I was walking across campus (late at night--scary.), I ran into my best friend, Gwennie. This would be the best friend I haven't seen in over a year, actually. Talking to her about mindless things like computer problems, and being busy with school, felt so fucking awkward. You have no idea. I gave her a hug though, even though I'm not really a huggy kind of girl in real life. I think my personal space rule of 5 feet or more is a direct translation from my emotional space rule. *sigh* We decided to get together during the monthlong (yayness) Christmas break. Of course, I won't be able to drive or really do anything after my foot surgery, so I'll have that excuse if we don't actually see each other.
I'm not sure what it is, but if I don't see someone for a while, they sort of don't exist anymore. I don't think I do this purposefully (or at least not consciously), but I sort of wall myself off from people. Maybe because when I try to "be friends" with someone, when I reach out...failure and rejection are two things I don't deal with very well. Most of my friendships have been fairly superficial, I can count on one hand the number that have been deep and profound friendships, and the one I fucked up royally. I wouldn't even know what to say to him if I saw him again. "Sorry" won't work. If it wasn't for the fact that I have sex with him, I don't know if Max and I would still be friends, or have any relationship at all.
A day or so after I saw Gwen, a very old childhood friend and her husband stopped by with their new baby. She gave me a card she'd forgotten to mail me, saying she wanted to be friends again, that she was sorry we'd drifted so far apart. I just smiled a wobbly smile and cracked some sarcastic joke about something lame and changed the subject onto The Baby. I am not a fan of babies. I don't hold them. They scare me. My uterus does not ache with desire when I see a baby, it contracts with fear and horror. My ovaries go into lockdown, and my breasts shudder at the thought of sagging any further.
She and her husband have very interesting views on things. I kept my mouth shut, which took a lot of self control. I'm not extroverted by any means, but I don't keep my opinions to myself either. If people only knew half the shit that came into my head and how much of it I struggled to hold back...they would be amazed at my willpower. Really.
I don't think I'll be calling either Gwennie or Tia anytime soon. I'm not even sure why. I do know I'm scared of having a panic attack and someone having to see that. Because, if you must know, the sight of me breaking out in a cold sweat, hyperventilating, lips turning blue, shaking and crying and looking for all the world like I'm losing my bloody mind is not a sight anyone should have to see. Ever. I do not look pretty when I cry: my nose gets all red, my eyes get puffy and my face looks like I've had my wisdom teeth pulled all over again.
I suck as a friend. And no, that's not an appeal for hugs and support, it's just a cold fact.
*goes to get more coffee, because holy mother of pearl, I am tired as fuck*
Thanksgiving went alright. No panic attack. There were less than 20 people there, and we were all spread out through my aunt and uncle's house, so I didn't have to interact with all of them at once. Beppe, my grandmother, was using a walker. She also didn't have her wig on. I think she just wants to die now. At least she wasn't bitching at anyone about their weddings. Or tattoos. Heh. My cousin JP got one, so we spent most of the afternoon telling tattoo stories and trying to convince our cousin Jon that he should get one. JP's little boys are getting cuter and not quite so bratty. His ex-wife D. now hangs out in Corvallis, with the students and her lover. The woman is a stupid cunt. That's all I have to say about that. She broke his heart and fucked up their kids. *stopping before I go into a rant* Heh.
It was a little weird though, being "social" with people. I'm sure the three slices of pumpkin pie helped though.
Oh, yes. This is what I meant to say! To the people on my Flist who sent me the friendship email: I love both of you dearly, and appreciate your friendship very much, but I can't send it back to you nor to anyone else. I hate chain letters, and cannot make myself continue them. I just can't. But I do appreciate you both sending it to me. :)
A week or so ago, as I was walking across campus (late at night--scary.), I ran into my best friend, Gwennie. This would be the best friend I haven't seen in over a year, actually. Talking to her about mindless things like computer problems, and being busy with school, felt so fucking awkward. You have no idea. I gave her a hug though, even though I'm not really a huggy kind of girl in real life. I think my personal space rule of 5 feet or more is a direct translation from my emotional space rule. *sigh* We decided to get together during the monthlong (yayness) Christmas break. Of course, I won't be able to drive or really do anything after my foot surgery, so I'll have that excuse if we don't actually see each other.
I'm not sure what it is, but if I don't see someone for a while, they sort of don't exist anymore. I don't think I do this purposefully (or at least not consciously), but I sort of wall myself off from people. Maybe because when I try to "be friends" with someone, when I reach out...failure and rejection are two things I don't deal with very well. Most of my friendships have been fairly superficial, I can count on one hand the number that have been deep and profound friendships, and the one I fucked up royally. I wouldn't even know what to say to him if I saw him again. "Sorry" won't work. If it wasn't for the fact that I have sex with him, I don't know if Max and I would still be friends, or have any relationship at all.
A day or so after I saw Gwen, a very old childhood friend and her husband stopped by with their new baby. She gave me a card she'd forgotten to mail me, saying she wanted to be friends again, that she was sorry we'd drifted so far apart. I just smiled a wobbly smile and cracked some sarcastic joke about something lame and changed the subject onto The Baby. I am not a fan of babies. I don't hold them. They scare me. My uterus does not ache with desire when I see a baby, it contracts with fear and horror. My ovaries go into lockdown, and my breasts shudder at the thought of sagging any further.
She and her husband have very interesting views on things. I kept my mouth shut, which took a lot of self control. I'm not extroverted by any means, but I don't keep my opinions to myself either. If people only knew half the shit that came into my head and how much of it I struggled to hold back...they would be amazed at my willpower. Really.
I don't think I'll be calling either Gwennie or Tia anytime soon. I'm not even sure why. I do know I'm scared of having a panic attack and someone having to see that. Because, if you must know, the sight of me breaking out in a cold sweat, hyperventilating, lips turning blue, shaking and crying and looking for all the world like I'm losing my bloody mind is not a sight anyone should have to see. Ever. I do not look pretty when I cry: my nose gets all red, my eyes get puffy and my face looks like I've had my wisdom teeth pulled all over again.
I suck as a friend. And no, that's not an appeal for hugs and support, it's just a cold fact.
*goes to get more coffee, because holy mother of pearl, I am tired as fuck*