the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
stood up and looking cute ~ May 31, 2003 - 9:43 p.m. so lao boy stood me up last night. it's amazing, no matter how much I grow and change as a human being, no matter how much spiritual progress I may make~ stand me up, and I become a fifteen-year-old girl in a matter of seconds. I hate that feeling, hate it. that pit of nastiness in your stomach because you don't know what's going on. the feeling that churned up when I called to check on where he was and his cell phone was turned off. and the knowledge that whatever story that explains this, will probably be a lie. why do people have to lie to each other? I try telling them-- you can tell me the truth, really you can. I don't get upset about that many things, I don't fly off the handle about just anything. (my relationship with the mentally ill boy is an exception to this rule, but that's a whole nother story.) so why not just tell me? that's what I'm getting ready to ask him, when I'm good and ready. I've been letting him squirm all evening, running errands and having dinner in the neighborhood where he works without once looking to see if he was there. and this, this is a thing I do. I deal with things like this in such a girl fashion, just like I did when I was fifteen. I went to the market today and bought a really sexy little outfit. which I am now feeling wickedly cute in. because one thing you do want to show the boy who's just fucked you over is just exactly what he's missing. childish, I know. it makes me giggle when I remember the day me and serg broke up. it was more or less mutual, and I knew it was coming, but still it feels awful to get dumped, no matter what. and that morning, the morning my car was broken down for the tenth time that month, and I had to go and wait for a tow, and I hadn't seen serg in a week-- we talked on the phone, briefly. made plans to meet at my car to "talk", while I waited for the tow. my housemate was going to drive me there. you ready? he asked, when I got off the phone with serg. hold on, I said. and went to change my shirt. I knew I was getting dumped that day, and I was damn well gonna look cute for it. so here I am, in my cute new outfit, mentally preparing myself to go out to the corner and ask what the hell?? because this is what I do. this is what I have done. for the last fifteen years. every damn time.
(((rings))) |