I I I. yeah. I might be selfish.

I miss the smell of the city.
I miss waving down yellow cars.
I miss walking up three flights of stairs to that tiny apartment with a real living room.
And a bedroom with windows for walls.
I miss the subway and the people on it.
I miss Pastis.
I miss coffee on 2nd Avenue.
I miss protests at WTC.
I miss you.
I miss a lot of things.

Interent crush.

Yes, I have them. Don’t judge. You do too!

His name is William Sledd . But don’t fret, it’s not a stalker, weird internet crush. It’s like OMG! You’re too fabulous for my gayness so I’ll admire from afar!

Visit him. And his YouTube videos. They will pretty much make you pee your pants. Then have an uncontrollable urge to want to do him. Twice.

And now, to occupy my lazy-as-fucking-hell mind.

Best Friend J is moving and I’m dying. Yes, I’m dying of sadness. But, I don’t like to be all moppy and whatever and BFJ has given me this wonderful book called This Book Will Change Your Like. And I think it will do that.


See, there it is. It’s even in the title.

I think I’m going to create a seperate blog describing my adventures with this book, and maybe even a YouTube account of me doing to activities so that you all may see my life changing right before your eyes! I don’t know. But I do know I’ll be starting it tomorrow. Yes, my life will begin changing tomorrow. Today, I will sleep and eat and be merry.

Update Okay, I couldn’t wait! I started today. And I made a seperate blog about it. I won’t write about it much here. So yeah. Here is the link.

Goodbye

Best Friend J,

I don’t write about you much because here, on this blog, I write mostly about the woes in my life. I write what bothers me or other nonsense in my life that stresses me or things not of huge importance. Not that what I write doesn’t mean anything to me, because it does. It means a lot. As do you.

I don’t write about you often because the jokes you and I have are insiders only, things others wouldn’t understand immediately. Without explanation, and explanations ruin the joke. They are for us; sort of a private code you and I share. You may not feel the same, but I do. I know my other friends wouldn’t understand batman pictures or that messy rooms are okay. I do.

Goodbye Best Friend J. Goodbye to afternoons in your room and dinner at your mothers. Remember that time when she took us to that Korean restaurant and she got me drunk on sake? That was a fun day. I will miss those days.

You were the first to get me to a Chipotle. You told me the exact amount of three chicken tacos. And even though I don’t remember that amount right now, I still remember that day.

I hope you will remember. My best friend.

I know the next four years will be amazing and full of adventures. Something I am so happy for you to have because I will be on my own journey. We will still have long talks, share Chipotle, however, now it won’t be together.

I know you will be happy and have the time of your life. And even though I hate writing that cliché, I know it will be.

You make me proud. I love you. I miss you already.

Always,

Ry

Hmm. I’m a loser.

Want to know why I haven’t written in two weeks? It’s because I have been reduced to nothing, staying at home all day long, with no job and no money. And really? Who works over the summer? EVERY FUCKING BODY APARENTLY!

I am the only one of my friends who doesn’t have a job right now. And I cannot lie to you, my dear readers, but I don’t care not having money and not working my ass off. In fact, I enjoy waking up at noon, not showering until 4p and going out with friends when they get off work. It’s fantastic, but I feel like the biggest, laziest, fat ass in the whole world!

I have like five bucks and even though my parents keep saying they aren’t going to keep giving me money, they do. And maybe it’s their fault I have no work ehtic.

My best friend in the whole world is moving far far away from me in 17 days and I’m am so heartbroken. I will miss her so much. More than anyone can miss their best friend, because I’m that dramatic.

Off to Oregeon she goes, to start her life with her boyfriend and their new apartment and their dog. And even though I am extremly happy and excited for her, I can’t help but thing I’ll be at my parents house eating their food and living off them.

Seriously, I need a job. Want to give me one? I work hard and will steal slightly less from you than my last employer. Promise.

My sister just brought a grillled cheese sandwhich and an orange soda to me in my bedroom. I’m so pathetic.

HOME HOME HOME!!!

I spent the last week in Texas and let me say, EW! The city I was in was so dusty and brown, somtehing I’m not used to. Where I live, there are like a million trees on each street and it rains at least twice a week. I absolutely hated it there.

And I went with my mothers side of the family and all they did was nag that my hair was too long, or why do I have a tattoo, or “Your going to hell because piercings are a rebellion agains God!”

I did, however, go swimming everyday and I had the lovely experience of going to Mexico. After that little trip I have to say I am so grateful to be an American. That country is really poor, the people are anyway. I met a candidate for mayor of the city of Juarez and he was obviously American educated. The whole of the government is like that- American educated and corrupt. That is totally a biased statement so hold on the angry email, please. Send it to your local Mexican politician.

Oh what a night.

That boy, the one who carries STDs in a napsack behind him? Turns out to be kinda cool. I know, I’m the kid who once you’re nice to me I’m you’re BFF.

I walked into the party, said hello to everyone, including STD boy, and surprisingly, there was no tention. We talked, laughed, drank, and even shared a cigarette together. I guess his drunken mistake turned into my sober grudge which helped no one.

The night was so much fun. I made some people play my favorite drinking game called Fuck the Dealer. A high-low card game in which the oject of the game is to fuck over the dealer. Ha. I like it because I am always the dealer, and I always get drunk in like 5 minutes!

Later in the night BFSs’ mother came over. At the time I was already drunk so I thought nothing of it. Which is weird because she thinks I am the nice, good, clean one of our group and would be appalled at a group of underaged kids drinking. Little does she know that I am the one who loves to be drunk on a Tuesday afternoon. Ha. Don’t judge. It’s not nice. Mister lurker who searches for “amazing ass” and get’s my post on jeans. Yeah, YOU!

She is kinda like Regina’s mother from that movie Mean Girls. Remember? With the boobs made of steal and rubber? And dresses like a kid. Well BFS mother doesn’t really dress like a kid, be she does love to shop, drink, and be merry. When she came over I was already drunk and when I am drunk I am pretty happy to see everyone. She and I even did three shots together! Yeah, I was that drunk boy, the one who does shots with the mother.

After a bit, BFS thought that maybe his mother should leave (they live in the same neighborhood). Best Friend F and I put up a fight, yelling at Scott that she should stay and he was being a mean loose booty whore! LET HER STAY!

Finally, BFS prevailed and BFF and I walked her home. When we got there they got into a deep conversation, which I do not do when I’m drunk, so I got up and left. Now, one would assume that I would have walked back to the party, oh! but I’m full of surprises. I ended up walking down a dark street back to my house. Yeah, the 5 miles back to my house down a dark street. BFF picked my up less than half way home and drove me the rest of the way.

The next day I was thinking about the night before, and yes, in fact it was weird that I was doing shots with BFS mother and maybe she shouldn’t have been there as long as she was. When I told this to BFF she immediately got so upset she ended out phone conversation. WTF?! And I don’t abbreviate! She has yet to speak to me, and it’s been three days.

And it’s little fits of hers like these that make me nervous to move in with her. Which, PS, I’m supposed to be doing in like three months. And I have no money! Holy crap I’m scared.

On staying away from STDs.

Remember that one Sex and the City episode where Carrie says she’s solved the mystery of getting a date? Which is another date? I think it’s ture. Because since I’ve dated Ryan, I immediately moved onto Justin, then, now, I met another boy. Maybe the last couple of years of meeting boys whom I’ve no interest in, the universe is throwing me a bone. Pun soo! not intended. But, yeah, it was intended a little. Ha.

Well I met another boy, but I’m not going to talk about it because the last couple of times I did they have both turned out to be duds. So, I don’t want to jinx anything at all, because I am now a firm believer in luck and good juju.

Tonight I’m getting drunk, and I cannot wait. Because I haven’t been to a party in so long. There will be lots of people there, one in particular I can honestly I CAN’T FUCKING STAND!

Here’s the story. He sucks. But really, we were never really friends. But we had mutual friends and when Best Friend S would get stoned, it was usually with him, and he would usually hang out with BFS when stoned, and BFS hung out with me when he was. This boy smokes more pot than Snoop Dog in a marijuanna field. No Joke.

One day he asked me and a friend to drive he and some of his friends to a club because they had been drinking. No problem. We drive them, drop them off, and turn around to head back to school. More than half way back to campus I get a call, them asking me to bring the bottle of alcohol back, because the club turned out to be a bust. Duh, the club they went to is filled with nasty druggies who fuck on the dance floor. You need to get tested just for using the bathroom.

I said that I wouldn’t turn around because we were already at school and that we, and they, would get in trouble for having booze passed to them. Then I get this text:

“Consider yourself cut! You guys are being so lame. You’re not going to get in trouble!”

And what pissed me off the most was that this dumb slut didn’t have my number in the first place; he had to find it from someone who knew it. So, as politely as possible, I responded:

“Cut?! Big fucking deal, what makes you think we were ever friend in the first place! Get over yourself!”

Now we don’t speak ever and good, because if he accidently breaths on my I might catch syphillis.

Letter to blank

Dear [blank],

I can’t stop think about you. And, honestly, I’m so embarrassed about it. Why? I only knew you a few weeks. But, really, I know why.

It was the way you took my hand unexpectedly into yours and kissed it. The whole time you were looking at me, not once taking your gaze off of me, holding my hand so tightly. You held my hand in yours just for a moment, the perfect moment. It was a perfect moment.

It was the way you laid your head in my lap. We were sitting next to each other and you scooted over and laid you head in my lap. But I was so nervous so I didn’t do the things that I would have normally done. Like stroke your hair, or take your hand. You made me so nervous. Your head was in the perfect spot, right in my lap, and I could feel you breathing and I felt so peaceful.

It was the way you sent me a random text message that simply read, “Muah”. With a symbol for a kiss – =-* It made me feel so special. I hadn’t felt that way in so long and it was you who did that. I loved those text messages.

And now we don’t speak and when I hear my instant messenger tell me a friend has signed on I immediately check to see if it is you. I open an IM screen and type one little word – hi – hoping everytime to send it to you. But I never do, I always get scared and close the screen and continue to try and busy myself and shoo you out of my mind. But I can’t. I still think about you. Weeks after we met.

Signed
Le Sigh.

Poof! My ass is amazing.

I’m sure you own a pair of jeans that make you feel the hottest you’ve felt in weeks. When you put them on, even if your hair isn’t quite working for you, you’re ass still looks amazing.

The night before you wear them you think about them and what shirt to wear, which one compliments them perfectly, or which shoes to pair them with. I even bet you’ve had them for a really long time, too!

I do, and they are amazing and beautiful and make my ass look amazing. They are from American Eagle (because living off mommy and daddies money right now, that’s all I can afford. But believe you me, in five years I’ll be decked out in Burberry) and have this incredible stitching, great patchwork, and print, that almost makes them look like an artist made them. I love them even more because I’d wanted them for so long. Last year I saw them on display in the window and immediately fell in love with them. I went in to see how much they would take out of my already incredibly damaged credit card. Usually in AE I am able to afford what they sell, and becase I love the style there, I usually buy. I picked up the price tag, expecting to see them at around $60, and to my horror, they were set at $80! And because I had just spent loads of money at Hollister minutes ago, that was just inches out of my price range. I was so dissapointed because I loved them more than anything else I had just bought. I was even more dissapointed because just the day before I spent $120 on a pair of jeans that I decided I didn’t even like that much after I got home. They didn’t make my ass look amazing. But the denim was so soft. Like buttah!

I left the mall sad, planning how I could get more cash before my next pay day. And even then I couldn’t spend my check there because it was only going to be around $400 and my cell phone bill was due, including the bill for the new cell phone I bought for $300. Ahhh!! I was in dispair, lost with out these make-my-ass-amazing jeans! WOE IS ME! I knew I would never have them because AE’s stock changes so frequently, I had to say goodbye. And I did.

But weeks later, my credit card fully loaded and ready to reek havoc in the mall, I stepped into AE and LOE AND BEHOLD! There they were, still in stock, AND ON CLEARANCE! I died. Then I put them on, and my ass became amazing. And It has been ever since.

They are my make-my-ass-amazing jeans. They are old, and worn thin, yet! They are my favorite. I’m wearing them today, and I must say, my hair is a mess and I still feel hotter than Brad Pitt on his good day. Take that SUCKA!

He’s just not that into you.

I’ve figured out why I still think about Justin. STILL! Like almost a week after I’ve moved home!

It’s because… drumroll!… He’s the first person who I’ve liked that hasn’t liked me back. All the boys who I’ve had a thing with showed some interest first and they made all the moves. And with J, I was the one who showed interest. The one who called, or texted, or whatever. And when he didn’t respond the way the others did, it was shocking to me. This is the first time I can say, “He just isn’t that into me.” Oh, Miranda, how confident you are.

Because, even with that, it still makes me feel inadequate. Which I know is totally retarded because I am adequate, to someone. Have you seen that movie You’ve Got Mail? There is a line in it that gives me hope that I will fall in love: “There is the dream of someone else.” Le Sigh. How lovely.

Election.

Maybe it’s because I can vote now, but this upcoming presidential election is affecting me in more ways than I thought it would. I’ve been reading the news and keeping updated on changes in the media more than I normally would, which is quite a lot because I already read the news every morning and hit the refresh button often.

This election means so much more to our people, Americans, also. This new president will have to do more than fix our current economic state, try and resolve moral and controversial issures our nation faces, or clean up Iraq. He or she will have to restore hope and confidence in a government that has lost its’ integrity the past seven years. And that may be the greatest challenge.

I’m not sure who I will be voting for, but I know my hope, and my heart, will be sealed in my ballot when it’s sent off.

Missing.

I walked behind you with her, your girlfriend. You are beautiful together, you are together because you want to be. You hold her hand and she grips it tightly. Every now and then there is a lovingly push or hit on the arm. I wish someone would hit me that way.

It’s weird to realize how “alone” I am. I’m not alone, that is without friends or family, but romantically. For the past few years there has not been one person I wanted to be with. But I see now that I do want a boyfriend and how sweet all the relationship drama is, even if it breaks the heart. Isn’t that what life is? Broken hearts, tragedy, gut-busting laughter, fights and make-ups? Life. I have it all – except one little thing. And, wow, do things seem a little incomplete when it’s missing, huh?

Ugh.

“Wasted Wednesday” is before “Thirsty Thursday” and believe you me, I feel like an alcoholic.

Well not so much because “wasted Wednesday” was a sober day pour moi, sobering me up on the Justin situation. And the next day only confirmed it.

I, after two or three glasses of whatever, become incredibly confident and am able to say anything to anyone. And who do I choose to use this incredible temporary power on? Why none other than Justin himself.

All of this is via instant messenger because we are incapable of having any sort of conversation in person or on the phone for God’s sake!

Me: What does “dating” mean to you? Because to me it means we are together, but to you it could mean that we are just seeing each other with no attachement. [and by seeing each other I mean just that. I don't do "friends with benefits".]

Him: the second.

Me: Well, I think we could make this work if we tried at it. Really.

Him: I have trust issues. [Fucking GAH! Doesn't everyone? C'mon.]

Me: me too!

Then nothing from him and if I haven’t sounded desperate enough I leave him with this:

“I really like you!”

So that’s it. I’ve played all my cards and the ball is in his court. And even though there is no game to be played here, I hope he passes it.

Wasted Wednesday. (As in ‘what a waste.’)

Are you ready for a breakdown? Cause here comes a big one.

I thought Justin and I were actually dating. How could I? We never even kissed once. We shared a bed together because I thought that’s what couples did. But the real reason was because all the other beds were taken and there was no where else for us to sleep. How could I have I been so silly. My little heart dreamt this entire thing up. Ha. I’m such a loser.

You want to know how I know? Because this is good and makes me feel like my heart is broken. That party where I wasn’t sure if i was going or not? Well I went and I was sitting in the living room on a chair by myself. Justin and his friend were sitting on the couch across from me. She sorta whispered to him, “So how are you and your boyfriend.” And I couldn’t hear what he said. This is only imortant because I knew the basis of the conversation. A few minutes later he said, “And he asked me if I was seeing anybody and I said ‘Nope’.”

I was the DD so that my friends I went with could drink and have a good time. AND FUCK! After hearing that I was ready to hand the keys to someone else. I have a Bio final in six hours anyway, so I didn’t. But I let myself be fooled. He and I spent the day together. Which I thought was some stupid sign that we were maybe together. But Hey! Guess what?! He didn’t ask just me to go. He asked Best Friend S to go, also. Always, never just he and I. Always Best Friend S. Guess what he said when he was coming this morning. “I’m coming over and you and me and Best Friend S are gonna hang out.” I told him that Best Friend S was sleeping and that ass said, “Nevermind then. You guys have a good day.” Like that wasn’t a fucking clue that he didn’t want to hang out with just me. Best Friend S had to come, also. God! I’m such an idiot! And I pride myself on reading hints so well. Guess not.

UGH! What really fucking pisses me off is that HE FUCKING LED ME ON! He SOO! did. (PS, if you can’t tell from the CAPS, I’m getting pissed writing this.) He kissed my hand while we sat next to each other. He kissed my cheek while we hugged. I asked him if we were dating AND HE SAID YES! I mean, I don’t get it! I know I played my cards right. I was clever, and cute, and picked some interesting things for us to do. And he totally went along with it. What the fuck is that all about? I mean I probably dreamt up the last week, but c’mon, it wasn’t all my imagination.

And now if there is anything for us I’m not going to take it. I mean look at this stupid fucking situation! I don’t know if we are even dating and there are problems. And was pisses me off even more is THAT HE’S NOT EVEN MY TYPE! He’s trendy, and wears clear coat nail polish, and carries a “murse”. (Man Purse for all you out there who don’t know gay lingo.) I like a fun begining. Something cute and sweet and a good story to tell. The only thing I’ll be able to say in “Oh, when we first met he kept giving me mixed signals and I kept falling for them and was pretty much SO FUCKING PISSED ABOUT IT!”

God! I really wanted a relationship with him. Now look. I see him for the last time this summer and I give a measley little hug. Again, so much for a ’summer love’. Stupid Fucking Justin Timberlake and your hopeful music. YOU MAKE ME SICK!

Confusion.

I don’t usually press for a boy to like me. I’m usually the passive one who sits back and let’s the relationship just happen. And usually it works out for me. But with Justin, if there will be anything, I think I have to be the aggressive one, the pusher. In the good way.

Last night I asked him if I had done or said anything wrong that he didn’t like. And I guess it’s a two way street. He said that I also stopped and we both were sorta left in the dark about where we stand. I thought we were together, because to me that is what “dating” means. You’re together. But like I said I’m not sure what it means to him. So when we stopped talking I just assumed that it was over, it was fun, now move on. But that isn’t the case, it seems.

There is a party tonight at a mutual friends house and I think I’ll be going, but not exactly sure. I want to go, but BFS is picky and I don’t know if he’ll want to go. I’d like to go because if Justin and I are still in the clear then this will be the last night I’ll see him for a while.

I’m moving back home tomorrow and I couldn’t be more sad about it. I packed all my things last night and check out for my dorm in at 2p. I am so not looking forward to moving back into my parents house. And further, I still don’t have a car. So when I move back I’ll be pressing them so bad for one. And my birthday is coming up to boot! So, cross your fingers. I’m hoping for an old VW because they rock.

So yeah. Fresh out of my math final and I think I did well but who know’s with me. I could have failed miserably.

Mostly I feel silly.

I guess the whole “he-likes-me-I-Like-him” was in my head. As of right now anyway. What does it mean when a guy asks you and your friend to dinner and your friend isn’t available so the guy decided not to go?! Seriously?! And the thing is I know he doesn’t like Best Frient S because if he did, they would have had something.

This is how it went down.

Me: I’m back in town!
him: O
[His lack of enthusiasm was the first clue]
me: what are you doing?
him: going home to change.
me: How was your weekend?
him: ok
me: It sucks I didn’t get to see you. =(
[I had to go home for the weekend]
Him: Sorry. What are you doing tonight?
me:nothing
Him: Is BFS back in town?
[me thinking, "Okay, seriously?!]
me: yeah.
Him:Y’all want to do dinner?
me:Scott has dinner plans with a friend.
Him:ok… i’m going to go to bed then.
me: ok =(

What is that? Does that mean he doesn’t want to see me? I mean it’s okay, but he totally led me on if he didin’t. This weekend was supposed to be my fancy dinner birthday party, but I got sick (my first time all year, doesn’t that just blow?!) and had to cancel. He couldn’t get out of work so he couldn’t come. Which is ok, but I would have loved to see him.

I talked to a couple of friends and they think that becuase I said that Scott couldn’t go that that somehow implied that I couldn’t, or didn’t, want to go. Which is totally not the case.

Fuck. So here I am. I let myself finally like a guy. I haven’t done that in years. Because of this. All of the stupid questions and my head can’t handle it. I told a couple of friends and they think that I’m overreacting. But I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I can kiss this summer love good bye. UGH! I really liked him.

I still have top pack all my things up and move back home, too. I thought that me leaving would be a problem, but I’m only moving like 45 minutes away and it’s not like I won’t be here every week anyway. I mean I have to find an apartment, my friends live here, and I’ll be up all the time so it wouldn’t have really been a long distance thing.

Fuck! Mostly I feel lame and pathetic. I totally thought this guy was into me. C’mon! He clearly was. I don’t know what happened to make him think otherwise. I am soooo into him. I think he’s funny and cute and… but no. Now nothing will happen.

And too add to this stressful day I still have to study for three finals. This week is going to suck. A friend of mine bought me some wine from his home state and I have a feeling the bottle will be empty before the night is over.

Questions and Insecurities.

The other night Justin said, “I don’t share a bed with boys unless I’m dating them.” We were in the same bed when he said that. So I said, “Does this mean we’re dating?” He said, “Yep.”

Now, what does dating mean exactly. Because I say that word because I don’t like the term “boyfriend” very much. So I say “I’m dating someone.” But to other people that may mean the two are just seeing each other and not exclusive. So it’s a little confusing. I want to ask him, or maybe tell him, where I stand. Like, “I’m only dating you. No one else. Just so you know where I am.” But I don’t want to sound like I’m marking territory or anything. I don’t want to come off sounding like, because I said that, he’s obligated to say the same thing.

Also, we haven’t kissed yet. Which is a good thing because I don’t want to rush anything at all because I really like him. I really want to kiss him, though. I mean, wow, this guy is cute. Really cute.

My insecurities have also come back. Like hardcore. The other day we were playing tennis and I was wearing a pullover and he just a long sleeve t-shirt with an undershirt on. I got hot from running around so I took my pullover off and he did the same with his shirt. And HOLY CRAP! he has a super nice body. I felt like a huge pile of fat of the tennis court. I know I’m not fat, or ugly, or anything. But I don’t have the flattest stomach. I could work out a little. It’s not like I look like one of those fat guys on the beach with no shirt and super hairy stomach or anything. And I’m happy with my looks. But Justin, he makes me want to have a six-pack by next week.

And, my ex, He-who’s-name-we-don’t-speak (Leo), used text messages to keep in contact with the boys he cheated on me with, so whenever Justin get’s a text my first reaction is, “Aw fuck. He’s cheating.” But, I have to realize that is not the case. I don’t think Justin would do that. I mean he wouldn’t even sleep in the same bed as me until we were officially dating.

So there it is. My post about my dating insecurities and questions. Don’t know how to exactly to end this post. So yeah. Bye.

Happy Mothers Day!

The bases of my insanities.

I’ve been sorta screwed by boys in the past. Well actually, one in particular. His name was Leo and he was go gorgeous. I was a freshmen and I just moved to a new school. I was away from my friends, from everything I knew. It was so hard for me because at the time I didn’t really know how to make friends. Up until that time I hadn’t made a new friend my whole life. I grew up with all my friends; I’d known them my whole life.

At school one day I saw him in the lunchroom with all his friends. I was sitting alone because at this point I still had no friends. The year pretty much went this way – me alone stealing glances at him from across the room. It wasn’t until my sophmore year did we actually speak words. I was sitting in a first year french class because I wasn’t able to take it the year before. I was sitting in the row nearest the door and in walks Leo. He was wearing a white tee shirt and plain blue jeans. He looked so cute in them. And he smiled at me.

He took th seat directly behind me and started a conversation. It was awkward because I’d never spoken to a boy, I mean I had just come out that summer. I remember rubbing my hands on my pants because they were sweating so much. He gave me his phone number and asked me to call him that night. I couldn’t believe it. I had admired this boy for an entire year and not once did he look at me. Then all of a sudden he was giving me his number and asking me to call him! I was floating on cloud 9!

Later that week we went on out first date; my first date with a boy. We went to see a movie and of all movies we went to see S.W.A.T. The new Colin Farrel movie. I don’t know why, I didn’t even like the movie and sitting there I just thought about him and didn’t even look at the screen. I was sooo! nervous, you know that feeling? Is what I said so stupid? Does he even think I’m cute? AND HOW THE HELL DO YOU KISS A BOY?! I’d never kissed a boy. I’d kissed plenty of girls, I dated the popular girls at school. But a boy?! Was it so different? No. It wasn’t. It felt right.

That date turned into my very first relationship. I was 15, he 16, and it was pretty cool. I liked having someone to call and to think about when I fell asleep. But it went horriby awry. He flirted with other boys with really messed my up because it made me feel ugly and so little. Towards the end of the relationship he cheated on me and I became terribly depressed. It wasn’t until just last year did I finally feel happy again.

This first relationship ruined the boys I have met since then. Always filled with questions. Why hasn’t he called? HE MUST BE CHEATING BECAUSE ALL MEN ARE DIRTY WHORES!! Except they’re not.

All of the guys I’ve dismissed I done so because I can’t let myself believe that they might be good for me. I give myself excuse after excuse why I should break up with them, then I do. Usually within a month.

If I want anything serious with Justin I have to be open to what may happen. He might cheat on me like Leo, or fall in love with me. Hopefully the latter. I’m going to say it. Err, type it. Right here. I like Justin. There. For everyone to read.

Best Friend S works with him and he tells me that he doesn’t look for sexual partners. He looks for boys to cuddle with. I like to cuddle. And I like to Justin.

Oh Boy. ;)

I don’t usually let myself like a person this early. It’s scary, me liking him so early. He’s cute and he makes me laugh out loud and he has a super cute body. Ugh. I like him.

I don’t like to like boys so early because in the first few days of the “Get-to-know-each-other” game one can come to the conclusion that he doesn’t like me or I don’t like him, which it totally fine. As long as there are no feeling, no foul right? Right. And guess what? He likes me back. Well, I’m pretty sure.

Justin, oh Justin. How you love to text message and not actually call me on the phone. How very modern of you. How you play coy and avoid one-on-one time and instead we eat at a diner dive with mutual friends and barely dance at a club. But, still, you’ve gotten me to like you. With your oh-so-sweet text messages. How very modern of you.

Said text messages :

Him: What U doing
Me: Just hanging out. You? [I'm a firm believer of correct grammer (mostly) even in text messages]
Him: Thinking of u
Me: Aw! That’s sweet.
Him: its the truth i was

See? I’m a sucker.

But what I loved most was, later in the conversation, when he said his four-year-old nephew is his heart. Aw! This boy (Justin) is so adorable. I’m not very fond of children, but I love boys who are. Because that means they are sweet. Like boys who love animals. They like to cuddle from what I’ve learned. (Insert winking emoticon here)

Boy.

I met a boy named Justin. He’s cute and I think I’m interested.

Here goes another ride.

Le sigh.

And P.S. HOLY CRAP! IT’S ALREADY MAY!

Happy May Day.

The battle of the Century.

I’m sitting here, at 1pm still in my PJ’s, reading and enjoying the PERFECT! 75 degree weather. My clothes are in the wash and when they are done I’m going to enjoy the beauty of this marvelous city.

I just read a post from this person about his wonderful city of New York. One of my dreams has been to live in New York City. To ride the train to work. To hail a cab in the rain. To pay ridiculous amounts for rent when I could save myself THOUSANDS! of dollars and live in a resonably priced city and spend the money on Gucci loafers. But after reading this post, however satrical it may be, makes me love Denver.

I lived in New York last summer and it was one of the best experiences of my life. I adapted to the city so very well. I went to cute bars like Flute and drank champagne and ate fois gras. I sat next to Lindsay Lohan at Pastis. I waited in the rain for 30 minutes for a cab because I couldn’t remember where my train stop was. And I loved it. But, I love Denver more.

Of all the cities I have lived and visited, I must say there is a deep, dark battle for my favorite. Denver and NYC battle it out to the bone for my choice, and yet! I cannot choose. I don’t know if I can even compare the two cities together. New York is full of history and art and… And Denver. The mountains! The skiing! OH! Denver how I love thee!

I guess I’ve made my decision, huh? Maybe they’re all right. There’s just a pent-up old hippie living on the inside. I love New York. I’ll live there one day. But I think I’m going there because the publishing world lives there. And I need to be in publishing. I NEED! to be. Because I love it. But I love Denver more. I’ll be a fake New Yorker for a while, but I’m a mountain boy at heart.

My patience has rewarded me well.

Aaahhh. This must be spring. My feet are bare. I’m in a thin tee and jeans with my hands in the grass. Ah! This must be spring.

I’m out of class early and the world is my campus. I can do anything and everything! Except I can’t. No car and no money. But even so – AH! This must be spring.

I cannot even begin to explain how much the warm weather has been missed and how I welcome it with ARMS WIDE OPEN! Give me a tan and a picnic and life is good. No more thousand layers. No more giant boots. No more cranky early mornings with snow to bare through. Ah. This must be spring!

Concert.

Last night I went to a concert with my roommate. It was the Relient K concert here in good ‘ol Denver CO. I’ve never been to the Fillmore and can I saw HOLY CRAP! it’s like a thousands times bigger on the inside than it looks from the outside. And HOLY CRAP! cute boys were everywhere. I mean, I only watched about half the show and the other half I was just starting into the crowd. It’s was fantastic.

The openers were Sherwood. A little bit boring, but their pianist was FREAKING! sweet to watch. He was all over the place. And the funny thing was that the piano couldn’t even be heard. I took a picture with him and he signed my ticket. Yeah, I hang with the band. They all want to hang with moi. Later was Mae, and can I say, I pushed in my first “mosh pit”. Now, okay, I’m SO! not the mosh pit boy. But when you’re being pushed into cute, scruffy boys, yeah. You’re going to going with the flow.

After the show we were walking back to the car and to our very dismay (queue the fancy horror music) the freaking car had been towed! So here we are, on a sketchy part of town, far away from campus, with no car. I may or may have not peed a little when I saw the car was gone. All I’m sayin’. We walked to the gas station on the corner, which was filled with MORE! cute boys from the show, and I bought a giant bottle of water. Seriously, it was like two gallons. I was EXTREMLY! thirsty after the show. But in the station was a couple whose car had also been towed. The lady asked if she could use my cell because they left their’s in the car. I handed over my phone and when she flipped it open she gave me a weird look. A look like, “You dirty little whore. YOU’RE GOING TO BURN IN HELL!” Okay, less dramatic, but c’mon. There’s fancy horror music playing. Then I rememebred what my screensaver is – Best Friend S and Best Friend A holding each others nipples through their shirts. (Okay, if only you knew the story. I’d tell you, but I don’t know if Best Friend A wants me to be talking about her breasts for ALL to read.) I asked the lady holding my phone not to judge me and she gave me a weird, nervous laugh. I may be a many-a-things, but a voyeur whore is not one of them! Don’t judge me.

Hanging with M.J.

“You know? Pot really does look like oregano. I wonder how it would taste if you sprinkled it on food?”

“Like on pasta?! That would be so good! We should open a restaruant.”

“What would we sell?”

Inquisitive silence.

“POT PIE!”