Seymour: “That’s the Spirit!”
…A line from “Ghost World” which is pretty much my favorite movie. If you haven’t seen it I highly recommend you do.
WARNING: I am not in a particularly happy mood, so don’t read this if you’re easily offended, or have no sense of humor. Mmmkay?
So, I’ve just gone through a breakup. Mike and I got back together a while ago, and then about a month ago things started going to Hell, and now it’s pretty much over again, and I’m thinking this time it’s for good, though I’m not completely sure … he hasn’t gotten back to me on that yet. It’s pretty pathetic when someone can’t even find the fucking time to break up with your sorry ass.
Before, it’s seemed like we were perfect for each other, he was so cool, and so nice, and so sensitive, and blah, blah, blah. Lately he’s turned into a jerk who sleeps all the time, gets drunk, which makes him act even jerkier, and forgets your birthday.
So, this whole thing has left me feeling more cynical than I’ve ever been about stuff like love and relationships … all of which is bullshit. Yeah, it is. Fuck you, don’t tell me it isn’t. And I don’t want to hear about how happy all of you are with your “soul-mates” because I swear I will find out where each of you live and I will blow up your toilet and poison your cereal.
I’m just kidding. (kindof.)
It’s strange, before this kind of thing would have really gotten me down. Mind you, I am by no means Ms. Sunshine, but I’ve had such miserable luck with guys and relationships (not that I’ve even had very much experience) that I’m just kind of numb to it all now. I think I’m really starting to just not care so much anymore. Either there’s is something very wrong with me that I don’t know about, like my body emits some kind of guy repellent, or I’m just too quirky and awesome, not to mention picky, to actually be happy with someone. Or maybe I’m meant to be that lovely, mysterious, artsy woman always traveling alone? Oooooh, shmexeh!
I remember once time when I was a teenager, and I was super hormonal and overly sensetive, and hopelessly romantic about everything. Some guy was trying to talk me into having sex with him, and I declined, and we started having a conversation about our attitudes towards sex in general and relationships. He asked me “Are you waiting to fall in love before you have sex?” I answered yes, and he said “Then you know, you’ll probably only end up having sex a few times in your entire life.”
At the time that remark didn’t bother me so much, because I was a stupid, naive teenager. But now, I remember that conversation, and I think to myself “Wow. That really sucks. Like, a lot.” I’m starting to wonder if the “adult” thing to do would be to follow the crowd: Go out, get drunk, and screw whoever is hot … or looks hot at the time. Maybe I should have started that a long time ago. No, it isn’t who I am, but maybe once you start it sort of becomes who you are? It’s a miserable, disgusting scary thought now, but then I think “What the hell are you waiting for? Nothing is happening! Go, child! Run and be free! And get laid while you’re at it!” And, you know, there’s the whole “everybody’s doin’ it.” factor. Yet, I’ve never been one to do what everybody else is doing, so why start now? I dunno, I’m obviously very confused.
The other day my friend and I went for a walk. She’s getting over a breakup as well, but somehow she still remains really hopeful. So, anyway, we’re walking, and this old couple riding bikes together passes us by and she’s like “Awwww! Look at how happy they are! Don’t you want that? To grow old with someone you love and be that happy?” My response was simply “Pffffffft!” … and I think I rolled my eyes or something too.
Did I mention that I am incapable of flirting? Yeah, don’t know how.
So, yeah, the entry stops here. I wasn’t going anywhere with this. Just a bitter rant. Thanks for listening, if anyone actually read all of this.
On a completely unrelated note, maybe I’ll get bored and make a Podcast if we’re still allowed. 
