Irritable Chap and I have been sending emails to one another the past day or so. He's a funny Bloke (that was for you Chap) and I enjoy conversing with him. Since I'm still loaded from last night, I'd like to take parts of my last email to him and add to it here. (Chap I modified it so don't worry, it won't be too repetitive for you).
Last night was fun, but not as fun as I thought it would be. Where to start, I'm not sweating Marcus because I already know it wouldn't work out. I make twice what he makes, he smokes, and he's younger than me. I genuinely liked the guy because we had some of the same interests. The guy actually reads books (Gasp). I used to read about a book a week (lately I haven't because of my hectic schedule of boozing and smooching), so it was nice to stumble upon someone who could hold up his end of the conversation and knew who Jackson Pollock was. Oh did I also say that he was the best kisser ever? Yepper. But I don't chase men and I don't play second fiddle to anyone or anything.
Anywho, I'm in a really bad mood today (3 hours sleep remember?). I guess its because I'm not pretty, I'm not cute, I'm not hot - I'm beautiful in my own way - or at least that is what people have told me. I've been told I should model, problem is, I don't weigh 6 lbs. (Again I could be blowing smoke up your ass, but you are a gazillion miles away so why bother?) I thought that being "beautiful" would hold some weight once I became single - but I look at these losers that I meet and I think to myself, "I can do so much better." I guess I'm feeling a little discouraged because Trixie, well she's this little itty bitty tiny thing and men fall all over her at the bars because of it. I'm very shapely - Not fat, don't make that mistake. I'm Marylin Monroe shapely, and sometimes it hinders me instead of helping me because that's not what is "in" right now. I've already lost some weight and if I lose a little more I know this will change, but its like COME ON NOW! I'M NOT FAT!!! I've never had any complaints before, but still. Whatever, I need to just shut the fuck up. Sorry, its my ego, I know. I'm just cranky and VERY hung over.
Also H? Yeh I'm not a fucking moron. Don't hit on my friend and think I'll be ok with it. He actually tried to ram his tongue down my throat last night - and cop a feel. Asshole. He got my cheek and a "Oh well, too bad" from me before we left. Double Asshole. - (I really wish you could hear my Jersey accent and all when I say asshole because it sounds better that way.)
Also, I think Agnes, the dumb broad, knows something happened with Peter. Just a hunch - well maybe more than a hunch. She basically gave me a cold shoulder yesterday. I didn't lose sleep over it because he's SO gross that if she wants to be pissed over it, well then she deserves it. Fuck her, I'm not on this planet to stroke anyone's ego. I wanted to just let it all blow over because there really wasn't any harm in what happened - he was drunk so whatever, I blew it off. But she's an idiot if she believes that they will live happily ever after. If she wants to be blind and pretend that its all good, then so be it. Who am I to shit on her parade? At this point in the game, why would you waste your time on a project like him? But whatever, that's her life to screw up and waste, not mine. - Can you tell I'm cranky?
Last night made me realize that at 28, I have no time for bullshit. I can't stand fake, I can't stand playing games. Give me straight forward any day of the week so my romantic idealistic mind isn't wasted on fantasizing about "what could have been." I don't need someone who makes a million dollars a year (it wouldn't hurt) but I have my own money tucked away. So I'm biding my time waiting for someone worthwhile. If I end up alone, at least I have my vibrator.
I want someone real. Someone who has a genuine interest in me, not just my ass and my rack - but I don't blame anyone because they are fabulous. Maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree by hanging out in these dumps. I thin that if I'm going to meet someone with one damn brain cell left in his noggin, then I'm going to have to go uptown.
I'm giving it another week and then I think I want to start really dating - even if its a blind date. I just want to have something to look forward to. Right now the partying is putting a damper on my brain cells and on my pocket. What's that country song? "If the Devil Danced In Empty Pockets, He'd Sure Have a Ball In Mine." - Fucking Marathon is more like it.
Friday, June 24, 2005
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