mymichele's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A delerious entry at almost 3 am. It is 2:41 AM. I thought it would be fun to write an entry at 2:41 AM. Do you ever get so tired that you aren't tired anymore? That is the way I am at this moment. I couldn't sleep last night because: a. The BL's son woke up crying in the middle of the night, and he wouldn't shut the hell up. My dad, who is 57 years old and already dealt with the whole "three year old won't shut up" thing with me and my brother 20 and 25 years ago respectively, didn't know what to do. I could hear him even from upstairs.. he just kept asking him "Why are you crying? Why are you crying?" Like the guy was going to answer "Because I'm having nightmares about terrorism and I'm really concerned about this war in Iraq." The kid is 3. That's why he's crying. b. Because I kept thinking about dirty monkey sex with Angel Boy c. Etc. Anyway. I hung out with Doofus Boy tonight. We had a "date." He took me to this really nice italian restuarant and told me about taking pictures of nekkid chicks. He's a stud now. Seriously. He grew his hair out and now he looks all foxy. And he has this ultimate revenge of a guy once thought of as geeky: he gets paid to take pictures of nekkid chicks. And he's going on a date with one of these nekkid chicks this week. How awesome is that? I'm jealous. I just love hanging out with him. I can be totally honest with him. He actually asked me "You don't still have the hots for me, do you?" Heh heh. Umm, no. Nice thought, though. Hanging out with him made me realize how much I wanted to go on regular dates like that. Like, dinner, then go to the bookstore, and then go home and watch SNL together. (Which was totally hilarious this week by the way.. Brittany Murphy is a total crackwhore, but her rap at the beginning totally cracked my shit up.) BB and I would go have some kind of mexican meal, go home, maybe get it on, and then we'd both get on our computers. And that kinda sucks. Ya know? I know you know. And then I got home tonight and I just simply messaged BB with "good night, yo. I know you're doing the apathetic thing, but I just wanted to say good night." And then he launches into this whole speech about the football game last night like I'd actually give a flying fuck. Long story short, I lost my cool again and using my journalist skills, I got him to finally say that he missed me and that he can't go anywhere in his house without being reminded of me. His roommate's daughter is always asking "Where's Lizzie?" and my clothes are all over the place and all this other stuff. So I got what I wanted out of him. I'm a total selfish bitch like that. I feel bad that I probably made him feel bad by extracting that bit of information from him, but I wanted to know. And now I know. I saw 8 Mile again today. Damn.. Eminem is a sexy bitch. Also, I saw the first 15 minutes of Ghost Ship. It.was.so.gross. Do not go see Ghost Ship. Please. It's for your own good. Also, the preview for 25hours or what not, the song from that is in my head. "I WANNA HOLD YOU BUT MY HANDS ARE TIED!" Yeeahhh Star Sailor up in this beyotch! I probably won't even remember writing this when I wake up. I think I'm delerious or something. Bah. I miss BB. I think I had a breakthrough tonight, but it probably got erased by my little freak out during our conversation. But my breakthrough.. Dorkus Boy lives like 10 minutes from BB, and I could very well have gone by his house to be all psycho stalker on his ass. I could have called him and asked him if I could come over. I could have done a lot of things, but I just pointed my car in the direction of my dorm and drove the 45 minutes home. I was proud of myself. But that didn't last long. I just miss being kissed. And I miss him holding me before we went to sleep. And I miss a lot of things, and it's just really not fair. I miss him so much. I have to end this before I start crying again. I'm such a mess. 2:41 a.m. - Sunday, Nov. 17, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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