A bit late.
This isn't even to let anyone know about anywthing, this is just for my own purposes so when I look back at this journal, years later, I can remember why things went down the way they did.
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As of September 18th, Christina Alessi and I are not friends anymore. Why are we not friends? Because I didn't want to be married to her. Because she wanted all of my attention all of the time. Because she couldn't accept that, unlike her, I HAD OTHER FRIENDS. Friends who needed, wanted, and deserved more of my time than they were getting. Because I didn't want to talk to her 10 times a day online, 8 times a day on the phone, and 35 times a day via text message. Because I didn't want wake up calls, or go to sleep calls, or calls in the middle of my nap. Because I didn't want sit around in her room and watch her go on myspace for four hours. Because I didn't want pizza and MCDonald's every night of the week. Because I didn't want to drive around Portion Road for 3 hours "cruisn for da boiis". Because she was "so much more mature than everyone else." Because she was more superficial and shallow and ignorant than anyone I've ever known. Because she has no personality of her own aside from what she can copy and emulate from others. Because she's so fucking scene. And so fucking Hollister. And so fucking Christian Dior. And because "all the punk boys go for all the preppy girls, so I'll dress this way and then guys will like me." No. Get a clue. Guys like you for your personality, and opinions, and values, and sense of humor. All of which you have none! And quite a large contribution to the demise of our friendship: she couldn't accpet that I had a boyfriend. One who lived 50 miles away. One whom it is very hard to spend time with. Because she couldn't realize that when you are smitten with an individual, a significant amount of your time and energy is devoted to them. Maybe it's because she's never had a boyfriend. Maybe it's because she's insanely jealous and didn't give a shit about how I actually felt about anything. What I would love to know is, how, after driving to Levittown to find out that Kyle Zavada, an individual on whom she has a ridiculous and unfounded crush, had no desire to see her that night, or any night for that matter, we drove to Thomas' house, where he comforted her, and reassured her that [edited for content]. When we sat outside his house until 2:00 in the fucking morning because she didnt' want to go home. When he had work at 4 am, and he was nice enough not to mind. And she still couldn't accept him. Sorry, but hell fucking no. If you are that much of a selfish, closed minded, immature little ratfaced whore of a bitch that you can't even begin to admit the possibility that Tom might just be a mildly pleasant individual that you might want to get to know, then you're just not good enough to know him. And you're not even close to being a good enough, decent enough, not evil enough a person to know me. And to add insult to injury, to forever prove me right, to be the kind of person to talk behind my back to mutual friends and tell blatant, glaring lies to people that I respect, just to make yourself look like a better person. All I know is that it satisfies me to no end that she is going to burn in the deepest circle of hell and suffer for the rest of etenrity.
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The end.
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As of September 18th, Christina Alessi and I are not friends anymore. Why are we not friends? Because I didn't want to be married to her. Because she wanted all of my attention all of the time. Because she couldn't accept that, unlike her, I HAD OTHER FRIENDS. Friends who needed, wanted, and deserved more of my time than they were getting. Because I didn't want to talk to her 10 times a day online, 8 times a day on the phone, and 35 times a day via text message. Because I didn't want wake up calls, or go to sleep calls, or calls in the middle of my nap. Because I didn't want sit around in her room and watch her go on myspace for four hours. Because I didn't want pizza and MCDonald's every night of the week. Because I didn't want to drive around Portion Road for 3 hours "cruisn for da boiis". Because she was "so much more mature than everyone else." Because she was more superficial and shallow and ignorant than anyone I've ever known. Because she has no personality of her own aside from what she can copy and emulate from others. Because she's so fucking scene. And so fucking Hollister. And so fucking Christian Dior. And because "all the punk boys go for all the preppy girls, so I'll dress this way and then guys will like me." No. Get a clue. Guys like you for your personality, and opinions, and values, and sense of humor. All of which you have none! And quite a large contribution to the demise of our friendship: she couldn't accpet that I had a boyfriend. One who lived 50 miles away. One whom it is very hard to spend time with. Because she couldn't realize that when you are smitten with an individual, a significant amount of your time and energy is devoted to them. Maybe it's because she's never had a boyfriend. Maybe it's because she's insanely jealous and didn't give a shit about how I actually felt about anything. What I would love to know is, how, after driving to Levittown to find out that Kyle Zavada, an individual on whom she has a ridiculous and unfounded crush, had no desire to see her that night, or any night for that matter, we drove to Thomas' house, where he comforted her, and reassured her that [edited for content]. When we sat outside his house until 2:00 in the fucking morning because she didnt' want to go home. When he had work at 4 am, and he was nice enough not to mind. And she still couldn't accept him. Sorry, but hell fucking no. If you are that much of a selfish, closed minded, immature little ratfaced whore of a bitch that you can't even begin to admit the possibility that Tom might just be a mildly pleasant individual that you might want to get to know, then you're just not good enough to know him. And you're not even close to being a good enough, decent enough, not evil enough a person to know me. And to add insult to injury, to forever prove me right, to be the kind of person to talk behind my back to mutual friends and tell blatant, glaring lies to people that I respect, just to make yourself look like a better person. All I know is that it satisfies me to no end that she is going to burn in the deepest circle of hell and suffer for the rest of etenrity.
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The end.