Anonymity

The one and only thing I regret is the fact that I’m not 100% anonymous. The thing about anonymity is that I have the freedom to be a careless fucked up individual with the comfort of getting away with it. Unfortunately I was so proud of the fact that I actually had something to write that I had to open my big fat mouth and tell friends and family about my writing. Mistake.

I call it a mistake because what if I want to write about someone I care about and how they pissed me off. Or say I was feeling ultra low and I wanted to write about it? Say I gang banged the NY Yankees and wanted to write about it without coming to work and having everyone frown upon me? Can’t happen now. I feel like I’ve allowed people to see into my mind and now they might judge me. Why am I so afraid to be judged? Why do I give a rat’s ass what other people think? Because I have to cohabitate with these people.

Yesterday Trixie and I went on a little shopping escapade, although I had a great time, we talked mostly about her little rendezvous and temptress status most of the night. I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. I’m the one who is single, yet I don’t feel like I have any thing substantial in the works. I really don’t have anything to brag about. Well I did lose enough weight to get back into my favorite pair of pants. Whoop Oh Boy - Nice Ass. But still, that’s not enough. I know, I know, its absolutely retarded and so 16. I love Trixie, I really do and the funny thing is, if it was ANYONE else, I might actually be upset. But the second I felt a little jealously, I realized I really wasn’t jealous. I was upset with myself for my choices. I'm not doing what I really want to do. I'm not surrounding myself with the things that I think will bring me good fortune and a real life. I'm kissing all the wrong frogs. I need a fresh water lake, not a murky pond.

I am actually happy to be part of this charade that she has going on. I went as far as telling her to make sure she makes me her fall guy should the time ever arrive. You know why I did that? Because real friends do that for one another. Trixie is the first friend in a long time that I feel wouldn’t douche me over. She doesn’t have her own agenda. She likes me for me because its always a good time.

Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of other friends and they know who they are. I shouldn’t go on and on about Trixie when I do have so many other wonderful people in my life. But I think its important to let the people you care about know that you care about them. Its hard at this age in life to make good, real concrete friends. Plus she’s kick ass like me and well, I think she’ll be flattered by what I wrote and not hurt in any way whatsoever. LOVE YA BABE!

Ok, but I’m getting off my point. If I could start this all over again, I probably wouldn’t have let anyone know. I wish I could tell you all about some things that happened over the weekend, maybe in a week or two I will recount some stuff because I will have distanced myself from the situation long enough. Then again, I don’t owe anyone anything and I should be able to say what I want. Fuck everyone right?

I think in the coming weeks I’ll have to find a happy medium. I’m not going to stop writing just so that I can keep a little self respect. I have self respect and I don’t do anything really wrong. I’m a good girl – well I’m a good girl that could be Oh. So. Bad. I’ll continue my writing and I’ll continue to say what I want because I have a voice in this blog. I have freedom to do what I want. If I want to write about ass monkey’s then I will, even though I really don’t know what they are.

This probably will not be my only blog today. I’m feeling very introspective today and tired. I love to write when I’m tired. My mind flows effortlessly.

Hope I bump into Marcus today. I’m going to confront him. I hate not knowing – its not like I’m sweating it or anything, but still things were VERY steamy that night. Whoop Oh boy. I just want to know and since I have no problem asking anyone, anything, I’m going to. I’m not shy like that. Wish me luck. Imagine if it was something awful like I had bad breath or something. Oh my god, that would be too funny. I might laugh in his face like I did with Remy.* I’m definitely going to hell.

**Remy will not be mentioned at this time. Too much to say. Funny story, but still, can’t do it right now. Sorry folks.