beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth...
Bleh.
I haven't felt this way about anyone in a long time.
And that should be a really pleasant feeling, a rush of sugar, floating on air.
But, it isn't, because I don't want to be woman #23169874510--because I really like him. And do you know how I can tell that I really like him? When I think about him, I don't think about sex. I think about how much I just wish he'd hold my hand or hug me without us both being so drunk we can't stand.
Fuuuuuuuckkkkkkkkk.
Do you know what I've done about this?
I did go over to Devora's last night, and that was good, though naturally did nothing to reassure me of my worth as a human being, because at times like these, nothing can.
No, no. I watched Love Actually. To be fair, actually, I'm not even finished with it yet. I'm watching it in small doses. My stymied emotional capabilities don't offer the support for all the laughing and crying required to watch this movie in one sitting. Seriously, this shit is intense. Me? I'm not even fumbling Laura Linney, in love with the office's designer but tied down by familial obligations. I'm like that character if she had absolutely zero chance with Rodrigo Santoro to begin with.
This is bad, guys. Really bad. Not eating bad. Eating pints of sorbet in a single sitting bad. Not sleeping bad. Sleeping all day bad. Abstaining from all human contact bad. Overscheduling my days so I never have to be alone bad. Black-and-white bad. "Samson" bad. "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" bad.
(Sidenote: WTF WTF WTF, I never run into him on campus, but of course today, when my hair is literally standing up off my head, I did. And given the general state of oblivion in which I tend to wander around campus, my heart practically leapt into my throat when I saw him. He flashed me the peace sign. What an idiot. I'm not sure about whom the preceding statement is meant.)
I have a midterm in Drugs and the Brain tomorrow. I'm taking the class P/NP, so it doesn't matter all that much. I have papers due in all my other classes. One on Friday--I bullshit everything for Ghosts of Film anyway, and I've yet to receive lower than A-. One on Monday for Peace and Conflict Studies, which I like less and less as the semester progresses. (Or maybe I'm simply becoming disillusioned.) Another for Poli Sci due Tuesday--topic given, naturally, tomorrow--but Kelly and I will work on it during our Down-Home Baking Extravaganza, and I'm starting not to give a shit anyway because I have a strong suspicion that my GSI doesn't speak English--his grade for my essay on the midterm was based on the fact that I 'made [my] argument but didn't argue it'. (Bullshit, anyway. I 'argued' it fine.) Also, he once spelled 'coercive' with about five extra letters.
It's too pretty out today for my emotional wretchedness.
Although, the pleasant weather is sort of negated by the fact that 1. I have a sinus infection that causes spontaneous nosebleeds and 2. I still haven't heard the results of my CT scan from Friday, and I'm a little worried, because I really don't like hospitals, and if I have a stone again...
Also, fuck. These people (who shall remain nameless) are seeming progressively less lovely to me, even as certain ones (Devora, Kelly, Paul) seem lovelier and lovelier and lovelier.
I need to stop letting people see me as a little child. It's led to some unfortunate and obnoxious misunderstandings. I was actually told not to "worry my pretty little head" about something recently. It isn't one person, or a few people, either. Maybe I need to grow the fuck up occasionally, or at least demonstrate to people my actual maturity level. It's funny--when I meet friends of my parents', or my teachers all through high school, their overwhelming response is that I am terribly mature and self-possessed (I used to get precocious a lot, too). So maybe I need to stop letting my peers see me as an ickle freshie, childish and in need of patronizing. I'm not. I let a lot of my shortcomings define me; I can be selfish and petulant and not take anything seriously. And some of my better qualities are rather childlike as well--insistence on seeing the good in everyone, general sweetness. But I am not a child. I am an adult. I'm responsible for myself now, in ways that people who haven't moved 3000 miles from home can't really understand.
And so, in conclusion, I have to stop being such a spineless fuckwit and stand up for myself, on occasion.
I haven't felt this way about anyone in a long time.
And that should be a really pleasant feeling, a rush of sugar, floating on air.
But, it isn't, because I don't want to be woman #23169874510--because I really like him. And do you know how I can tell that I really like him? When I think about him, I don't think about sex. I think about how much I just wish he'd hold my hand or hug me without us both being so drunk we can't stand.
Fuuuuuuuckkkkkkkkk.
Do you know what I've done about this?
I did go over to Devora's last night, and that was good, though naturally did nothing to reassure me of my worth as a human being, because at times like these, nothing can.
No, no. I watched Love Actually. To be fair, actually, I'm not even finished with it yet. I'm watching it in small doses. My stymied emotional capabilities don't offer the support for all the laughing and crying required to watch this movie in one sitting. Seriously, this shit is intense. Me? I'm not even fumbling Laura Linney, in love with the office's designer but tied down by familial obligations. I'm like that character if she had absolutely zero chance with Rodrigo Santoro to begin with.
This is bad, guys. Really bad. Not eating bad. Eating pints of sorbet in a single sitting bad. Not sleeping bad. Sleeping all day bad. Abstaining from all human contact bad. Overscheduling my days so I never have to be alone bad. Black-and-white bad. "Samson" bad. "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" bad.
(Sidenote: WTF WTF WTF, I never run into him on campus, but of course today, when my hair is literally standing up off my head, I did. And given the general state of oblivion in which I tend to wander around campus, my heart practically leapt into my throat when I saw him. He flashed me the peace sign. What an idiot. I'm not sure about whom the preceding statement is meant.)
I have a midterm in Drugs and the Brain tomorrow. I'm taking the class P/NP, so it doesn't matter all that much. I have papers due in all my other classes. One on Friday--I bullshit everything for Ghosts of Film anyway, and I've yet to receive lower than A-. One on Monday for Peace and Conflict Studies, which I like less and less as the semester progresses. (Or maybe I'm simply becoming disillusioned.) Another for Poli Sci due Tuesday--topic given, naturally, tomorrow--but Kelly and I will work on it during our Down-Home Baking Extravaganza, and I'm starting not to give a shit anyway because I have a strong suspicion that my GSI doesn't speak English--his grade for my essay on the midterm was based on the fact that I 'made [my] argument but didn't argue it'. (Bullshit, anyway. I 'argued' it fine.) Also, he once spelled 'coercive' with about five extra letters.
It's too pretty out today for my emotional wretchedness.
Although, the pleasant weather is sort of negated by the fact that 1. I have a sinus infection that causes spontaneous nosebleeds and 2. I still haven't heard the results of my CT scan from Friday, and I'm a little worried, because I really don't like hospitals, and if I have a stone again...
Also, fuck. These people (who shall remain nameless) are seeming progressively less lovely to me, even as certain ones (Devora, Kelly, Paul) seem lovelier and lovelier and lovelier.
I need to stop letting people see me as a little child. It's led to some unfortunate and obnoxious misunderstandings. I was actually told not to "worry my pretty little head" about something recently. It isn't one person, or a few people, either. Maybe I need to grow the fuck up occasionally, or at least demonstrate to people my actual maturity level. It's funny--when I meet friends of my parents', or my teachers all through high school, their overwhelming response is that I am terribly mature and self-possessed (I used to get precocious a lot, too). So maybe I need to stop letting my peers see me as an ickle freshie, childish and in need of patronizing. I'm not. I let a lot of my shortcomings define me; I can be selfish and petulant and not take anything seriously. And some of my better qualities are rather childlike as well--insistence on seeing the good in everyone, general sweetness. But I am not a child. I am an adult. I'm responsible for myself now, in ways that people who haven't moved 3000 miles from home can't really understand.
And so, in conclusion, I have to stop being such a spineless fuckwit and stand up for myself, on occasion.