Actions speak louder than words...

I promised to write and so now I am. I have had a tumultuous past couple of weeks. And I have not had the energy nor the will to write. I apologize for that. I have agreed to a relationship with "friend", worked on a Sunday therefore receiving a fabulous reward on the following Tuesday, both instances leaving me with a pretty good feeling about my future. With "friend" and with my job...

However, "friend" fucked up. Big time. He doesn't really get how he has. I spent last Friday night at his place. Had a great time. Cheers all around for the C H E M I S T R Y. It works. We fit. Then we part ways back in NYC, I spend the day with Nameless- fun, fun, fun, but I DON'T HEAR FROM HIM AT ALL. I, of course, receive the apology phone call on Sunday morning. He was tired. He slept through the night. Ok, I get it. He didn't sleep (I snuck in 2 hours) on Friday night (no, not doing THAT the whole time- just 1/2 of the time). Fine. He tells me we're going out on Sunday night. Great. I had a great hit with this guy then was going to see my guy. WRONG!...

Nope, didn't hear from him, didn't see him, got ready, gussied up. Nothing. Fast forward to mandatory apology call at 1:30 the next afternoon! "I'm sorry, I assed out... I'm sorry, I'll call you back." yeah yeah yeah. MY ASS. He didn't call back. And I have yet to hear from him. He did ass out. He is an ass and cannot see what is right in front of him. He walks a FINE LINE. A very fine line. I want to end it. I really do. My mind tells me to. But my heart? It wants to try. But can I believe the excuses? And the same damn one everytime? I don't know if he really wants this. I think I do. I enjoy him. Immensely. But I did also enjoy SH and I got over him, right? So maybe I should just accept that date from D and see how it goes. Couldn't hurt anymore than "friend" hurt me this weekend...

I'M NOT LAGGING....

I'M L A Z Y. I WILL DO THIS AGAIN (promises, promises)

Never happened...

Girl #1: Yeah, I know what you mean about whoreish action. One of my friends gave this guy head in a stairwell, like, five minutes after she met him!
Girl #2: THAT WAS ME.

Not me.

On overheardinnewyork.com- I will get on one day.

My goals should inspire people...

Hands above the covers...

I want to marry my best friend. She is the best because she is supportive, fun, boring, blunt, stupid, foreign and sexy. I called her on Saturday morning to let her know that I have succomb to my hormones (for no other reason) and that I had spent some time with the "friend", only a few short hours after I had declared that it was O V E R. I have issues (check your sanity at the door, thank you) and I need to remember that I MUST NOT GIVE IN TO MY URGES. Oh let's say, sex, eating, smoking, sex, eating, spending money that I don't have. I am plagued with these urges (better than locusts, but problems are problems) and I must F I G H T them. Step 1- call Maddy (aka Mad Russian) AGAIN! Step 2- DO NOT SEE "FRIEND" AGAIN!!! Step 3- PUT THE NUTS DOWN, BITCH!

Anywho, called The Brain early and she had to have the sexiest, softest voice EVER. I want one too! I have a croaky, nasally, irritatingly LOUD (so I've been told... tears) voice and I want that sweet soft voice that that bitch has. So, I tell her she sounds sexy and she tells me to "keep my hands above the covers"... wait till I see her in about oh... a couple of weeks. I'm sure "friend" will want to watch but she's mine, dude, all mine.

P.S...

Now the housekeeper is trying to kill me softly by singing... She does that. She sings while I have music blasting like a sulky teenager and she sings O V E R it- and now she's singing about Jesus. But I don't think Jesus would want me to suffer like this...

I just ate a shitload of grapes.

And I am moody, crabby, bitchy, cunty, and just plain losing it. I hate everyone and everything.
I thought that I would be ok, but I'm not. I am going nuts here and I ain't got no one to talk to! I'm tempted to speak with the housekeeper but I don't understand half of the shit that comes out of her mouth. She's the one that gave me the grapes. "Here's your meal" She says. I laugh. She laughs and says "I am cute, right?" But she drags out the right, like rrrriiiggghhhttt? Yeah. Right. What?
Oooh, the "friend" is on my shitlist. He's not the only one, though. It's pretty much anyone or anything that BREATHES.
And the roomates? Yeah, I'm thinking a jury will understand when I claim temporary (shut up) insanity if they saw the guy's clothing hanging off of MY SHELF IN THE LIVING ROOM- HANGING THERE TO DRY. WHEN DID I AGREE TO LIVING WITH WHITE TRASH??? And they would agree if they saw THE BITCH'S HAIR STUCK ON THE BATHROOM WALL THAT I HAD TO CLEAN UP THIS MORNING WITHOUT (!) A CIGARETTE IN MY HAND. I will leave her hair outside for a magpie to eat and bury or whatever the hell magpies do to bring bad luck to people and their hair.
I called the "Mad Russian". I need his help AGAIN because I am weak and retarded and he thinks I'm hot. Help me, oh mad old man! Make me better and strong and tough and perfect. Because y'all know that once I kick this shit, I will be perfect. So watch out bitches cuz I'm almost there.
Boo-Ya!

Warring in my head...

This is a treat for y'all because you get to read exactly what happens in my head between evil D and good D...

E (evil): So how does it feel to be suffering like this?
G (good): I feel terrible (bly?) I want this feeling to go away.
E: hahahahahah (brain?) NEVER!
G: Please think positively!
E: You will always be a slave to the nicotine!
G: Nicotine is worse than you are!
E: Oh yeah? You haven't even experienced what I can do...
G: Please stop! I am so unhappy right now!
E: By the way, The Hair looks and feels really good today...
G: Yes, yes, it does...
E: That Fergie can't dance in the "My Humps" video!
G: Please, stop talking shit about people! But you're right...
E: See? You're just as evil as I am. There is no such thing as "good d"
G: I will show you! Just give me a few days and the dirtbags gone and...
E: And a cigarette?
G: Nooooooooooo...
E: YES!
G: Maddy's going to call me and will fix me again. I just know it. And then maybe we can get rid of you, once and for all!
E: NEVER! (battlecry)

The New Me.

I have been trying to make major changes in my life as I am now approaching the ripe old age of 30! I believe that I am too small (and immature) to be that old, but alas, I must face the end of a decade of hard work, smooth skin, and baby chub (in my 20's? Yeah, let me be dillusional about that one) to a newfound confidence and new prospects. But I have done it. I have made the move to QUIT SMOKING.
I went up to Boston to a man nicknamed the "Mad Russian". He's renowned for helping people quit smoking among other addictions. So, he was my last chance. He was great. So intelligent. He told me I was gorgeous in front of the whole group. Freaking genius.
I'm suffering right now. I am somewhat bored and decided that eating the world's nut reserve was a good idea. I'm not hungry. The beast is not calling. I am doing exactly what I shouldn't be doing, eating, but I'm just eating nuts instead of cheetos. That sounds so dirty.

Other than that... I met the "friend's" delusional friend and co-worker, D. I spent the weekend with the "friend", which actually helped my cravings, but didn't help the fact that I was stuck in a car with two computer geeks. After listening to them bitching about work, and sitting in the car, reading my book and being the good, patient, sweet girl that I am, waiting for them to get their rocks off at a computer fair (I know, I know) I imagined them at work...

I picture those two computer nerds, sitting at their desks, typing away, when my "friend" receives a message from me saying that I had written about him in my blog. They take a break from their jobs copying this file into that folder, ciphertexting, decrypting, discussing Tom Clancy video games, whatever it is that computer geeks do and read my blog. "Friend" laughs, thinking he's the shit, thinking that he twisted me out to the point of my falling in love with him, while D, after reading the post, before I gave "friend" permission to send it to D, agrees with him, then comments on my blog. I swear I can just hear the two laughing like Beavis and Butthead all the while. And "friend" walking around with his dick in his hand.

I believe that guys think that you are in love with them if you enjoy hanging out with them (most of the time- he knows what I mean) and if you write about them. Well I guess that since I write about her and her and them, and enjoy hanging out with all of them, then I must be in love with EVERYONE.

Please. I most certainly am not in love with my "friend". I know most of you are surprised since it doesn't take much for that to happen, but hey, I'm changing. And he won't get that if he doesn't. Change that is. And he should count himself super lucky that he even gets to see me NAKED!