Wooo, Yeah! - 03.14.03 - 2:25 am
Look!

Forgive me, for I am a little loopy on the Vicodin. I've been a little loopy on the Vicodin for days now, haven't I? Except for earlier today when I was a little loopy on the Rolling Rock. But that's for later.

OK, because I have a lot of stuff I would like to share with you, I will break this entry up into several, easy-to-read segments.

And now we shall begin.

Work- I have to go to a fucking three hour class on bioterrorism. THREE HOURS. They've already stolen 45 minutes of my life and now they want three hours? Fuck that. If I weren't getting paid for the time I'll spend in that class, I would totally boycott it. Seriously. For those interested, my price is an estimated nine dollars an hour. See? I'm not that cheap of a whore, Mom.

Family- My babci is out of the hospital and back at home again. She has to have a nurse come daily, but she's doing OK. Like we've been saying for months, my grandmother is a fucking amazing woman.

Paaaartaaay- My two best friends had The Great Grill Party Part Three today, hence the earlier consumption of Rolling Rock. Apparently, I am in a band with them and we played our anti-war song for an audience of three people. We rule.

Jay, Dumbass (aka First Love, but that pseudonym sucks and Dumbass is much more fitting cuz, well, he is one) and this other kid are in a Nirvana cover band, which would usually offend me, but it's them, so it doesn't. Anyway, they played D-7 and Best Friend looks at me and says, "Dude, I feel like I'm 14." And I felt like that, too, so I got to reminisce about hanging out in Dumbass' bedroom, listening to them play that song over and over again as I tried not to think about kissing Dumbass. Best Friend was thinking this, too, and then asked me, "Aren't you falling in love all over again?" And, unlike seven years ago, when I said, "Yeah, man," I actually didn't mean it. Even so, Best Friend decided to really prevent any sudden resurgence of feelings towards Dumbass by telling me that he ditched them last night to fuck "a girl with really big tits." Yes, those were his exact words.

I fear I have completely ruined small-breasted ladies for him.

Eh.

Anyway, while some assortment of the six people that were there played on the deck, this weird dude stuck his head over the six-foot wood fence. I thought he was going to yell at us for playing so loud, but instead he just said, "Is that GWAR, man?" They're, like, no. Then he requests that they "play some fucking GWAR." Jay told him that they didn't know any GWAR cuz it's too hard and the dude disappeared.

Three minutes later, I look up from my cigarette to see the crazy fucker climbing over the fence into the yard. He's wearing no shoes, a tank top and fucking DAISY DUKES. You remember daisy dukes, man? DUDES SHOULD NOT BE WEARING DAISY DUKES. Anyway, he walks over to the deck and starts rocking out. Like, head-banging, devil horns, walking like an Egyptian, hardcore shit. No one had ever seen this guy in their lives and he's all getting down with us.

Finally, he tires of the Hardcore Rocking Out and sits down at the picnic table where I was. He introduces himself as Danny, age 44, and starts rambling about Alice Cooper and rock n' roll and something about North Carolina sucking dick. Then he introduces himself to me again. Every once in awhile, he would pause to throw up some devil horns and go either "Woo!" or "Yeah!" or sometimes even "Wooo, yeah!"

I just sat there. Quietly. And tried not to make any sudden movements. Or laugh.

Eventually, my shit got freaked out enough that I ran inside where the super evil genius horse-dog who loves me with all his soul was and sat with him. Then I called Jerkface, because I figured out of anybody, Jerkface would appreciate hearing about the daisy duke wearing, heavy metal loving, shoeless stranger the most. Best Friend joined me a few minutes later after the crazy dude tried to put his arm around her.

We were still inside when the guy finally left and, according to Are, it was like he suddenly realized oh, fuck, how the hell did I get here and where's my crack pipe? And left as mysteriously as he appeared.

So, yeah, that was the party.

The Diner- My good friend, Jen, whom I haven't really spoken to in about a year, called me up and wanted to go get coffee. So off we went to the diner. Who should we happen to see there but Vicky and May. So we joined them and started the massive amounts of catching up that needed to be done. Vicky left cuz she's getting some action tonight, so it was just Jen, May and I. We ended up talking about cars for about an hour and then these two boys show up. We see these boys at the diner a lot and usually just say "hey, what's up?" but tonight they must have been feeling social for they introduced themselves to us and repeatedly interjected comments into our conversation. Not that we cared cuz, well, they were nice, total babes and legal. They could interrupt all they wanted, man.

After about two hours, we finally just turned around and had a full-on conversation with them. On the way home, May and I swore that we did NOT have crushes on the one boy with the tattoos even though he made eye contact and was smart and nice and did I mention he was a total babe? Yeah, no crushes for us. Fuck that shit.

Which leads me to...

Boys- OK, so I mentioned I called Jerkface, right? And I was kinda drunk? Well, I'm a complete fucking jerk when drunk and talking to boys, so I spent a good part of the conversation telling him to come over and yelling about...I can't even remember what I was yelling about, but I'm sure it was stupid.

Anyway, he doesn't know when he'll be able to come over and I know it will be at least a month before I see him again. This shouldn't suck, OK? I'm used to not seeing him for months at a time and it doesn't bother me.

But it does suck. At least now it does.

(I'm going to get kinda, um...what's the word? Confessional. Yeah, that's it. So if you're reading this for mindless drunk stories, I'm sure there are video games to be played or something. Go do that. Or look in the archives. Or just scroll up and relive.)

I am really fucking scared that if he doesn't see me, he'll stop liking me. And that's even if he still does like me. You see? I'm already doubting it and I shouldn't. He's done nothing to make me think that.

He's told me he's liked me before and then it's like he completely forgot about it. I am so tired of almost, you guys. And, yeah, maybe I should take into consideration the fact that I've managed to maintain a crush on that boy for god knows how many years after god knows how many months I went without seeing him. If I'm capable of it, why can't he be? Yeah, but I'm a fucking weirdo. I had a crush on this one boy for two years and the only word he ever said to me was "move."

I can't think like this, but I do. It doesn't help that, for some reason, I don't want him to know just how goddamn crazy I am about him.

What sucks even more is I keep fucking bugging him about coming over and afterwards, I always feel so annoying. Like a fly or a skipping record. It's not like he can just jump on the subway or walk a couple blocks to my house. He lives far away and the drive sucks royal ass. Plus, he's always working 12 hours days and I'm just like "You've been at work since 7 this morning? Why don't you drive an hour in tourist season traffic to come see me? I'll bake a casserole!" God, I'm a dick.

OK, this entry has gotten fucking stupid and now I'm mad at myself for so many different and unique reasons. This is way too long, too. Fuck. If you're still reading, I love you. Make my babies.

Bed.

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