mymichele's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Very dramatic days of the past, revenge on the brain, and Pamela Anderson is my bitch! This is a little late, I know, but I seem to be obsessed with reviewing lately. I only have 4 more diaries to review and then I will be done with the 30 or so that I've had hanging around for a month. Then I'm going to take a break and return to my sanity.. maybe even actually study for a little while! Gasp! Anyway, I'm going to finish the rest tomorrow, and then I can have my weekend to myself. Awww yes. ***** Well, not to myself. BB and I are going to Austin and College Station for good times. Good times that maybe a handful of you might recall from last year. Yes, we are going to go have fun in the land of football. He is going to have fun with football, that is. I am going to have fun with shopping! Muahaha! ***** So, last night I had a dream that Pamela Anderson was giving me oral sex. Now, I'm sure this is a common dream among the male community, but it seems rather odd given that I am of the female persuasion. But that's okay, I mean, how many chicks can say that they got some from such a hottie? ***** Speaking of hotties, I am destined to be a dork for the rest of my life because of one thing: once, like 4 years ago, this chick that I really had it bad for told me that the smell of rain really turns her on. It's rained here for several days in a row, and everyday, I think of her. What an interesting way to get people to think about you! Although she didn't really need that, she was just a really fuckin hot chick anyway. ***** On another note, I seem to be having problems with confrontations lately. Starting with the security guard at the porn store, whom I wished I would have kicked him in the nuts and screamed "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL SECURE DAMNIT! ASS MONKEY! And now with the weird Subway guy. So yesterday, I went to Subway. I was craving my usual Turkey with onions, lettuce, and olives, and I got it, but I also left feeling like I wanted to punch this guy in the face. Hostility, yes indeed. But I think I have a good reason for it. He got on my shitlist in the first place for asking me, "Are you feeling okay?" I hate that question, I hate it, I hate it! It goes back to when people asked me that because they thought my eyes looked weird. It's called ptosis, okay? And I got surgery for it. My eyes arent't droopy anymore. But I do have trouble looking people in the eye because that's just me. I'm a weirdo like that. So I was like, "Yes, I'm fine," and I said it in a snotty way, because like I said, I fucking hate that question. If I wasn't fine, would I have consoled in him, the friendly sandwich artist? No, I would not have. And then he says something to the effect of, "I'm looking for a wife to marry." What in the fuck is this? Is he trying to fuck with me, is he just a dumbass, what? I felt fucked with, so I just said, "Uh.. I'm happy for you." I wish I would have said something else. I wish I could have knocked over the stupid plastic barrier thingie and kicked his ass because I felt like he was fucking with me. Why the hell should I care that he wanted to find a wife? How fucking innapropriate is this shit? I went back today because I knew he'd probably be there, and I was just daring him to say something else. I don't know what I'd do, but it would be hostile and it would be bitchy. I'm not usually bitchy, but I don't like being fucked with in this manner. He was there, and he made my stuff, but thankfully didn't make any crack whore comments like that again. Maybe I'll write the manager a letter or something. I think I have issues, but I don't know. What do you think? Muahahaha! ***** I am missing Lovelines. This is a crime. ***** What was MyMichele doing a year ago? "So many people, come walking by, looking so happy, when all I do is cry. I just want to be with somebody too, what I'd give for a kiss, what am I gonna do? Why can't I fall in love! Why must it, it seems so hard to find, why can't I fall in love? I know she's out there waititng, so why, why can't I fall?" I first heard that song when I was watching Pump up the Volume (Mmmm, young Christian Slater, gimme!), and I dug it. So there it is. It's always nice to be looking through a pair of pants I haven't worn in a while and find a 5 dollar bill. I enjoy that. I always think, when I wake up in the middle of the night to go pee, that I'll look in my shower and there will be a dead body. Why I think this, I have no idea." and.. (This was a very dramatic day for me, and I don't really like reliving it, but there you go.) "That being said,this is serious. You still think about her, still miss her. You still wonder what could have happened if you came back from the trip and she was there, waiting for you, instead of telling you what you didn't want to hear. You wonder what could have been. It hurts me in so many ways to know this. It hurts me because you are hurting, and when you are hurt, I feel it. It tears me up to feel it, because what I am feeling is your frustration, anger, sadness, and depression for someone else. It doesn't involve me, and that's what hurts. It's just not right. It was never right, and it hurts. This relationship has been so hard for me. You expect so much out of me, and when I don't deliver, it hurts you, and sometimes you're tempted to seek out other people. People who live up to your expectations. People who haven't gained 40 pounds since you've started dating them. People who have friends. People who don't fuck up simple directions. People who understand you on an intellectual level. People who have worked as hard as you have and have earned what they received. I understand that. What I don't understand is you putting your feelings out like that, for everyone to say. What I hate is seeing that on your web page, knowing that everyone who knows you knows about me, knows how long I've been in your life, yet they know you had such strong feelings for someone else. You never talk about me on your web page. You never mention me, you never detail any of our activities, and when you do, you carefully leave out my part. Don't we have these experiences together? Don't we go through life, living seperately and having our own experiences, yet sharing them together? That is how I see it. That is how I want it to be. " 10:19 p.m. - July 16, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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