last night a few friends said i should start a blog. i forget the exact context of the suggestion at this point; the whole conversation is kind of a foggy memory, shrouded in the bottle of wine i drank + pot and incense cloud that basically made up our living room and evening. you know, the kind of night where you’re in a bad mood for no apparent reason, and you keep finding yourself saying really uncharacteristically assholey things to people, and even take a step outside your body while you’re saying these things, wondering, “why the fuck are you being such a douche?” yeah, it was that kind of night. the kind of night that then blends into the kind of morning where you wake up and wonder “why do i continue to do these mean things to my body?” my lungs don’t like the smoke! my body doesn’t like the alcohol! fucking stop it! …i won’t.
anyway, so yeah, they said i should start a blog. maybe i’d gone on a funny assholey rant, and then i made an assholey response along the lines of “::scoff:: GOD, starting a blog, how fucking narcissistic. who am i to think that the shit i have to say is worthy of anyone else reading.” and you know what, maybe it was assholey but even as i’m writing and thinking about it now, i still fucking agree. who the fuck is going to read this and give a shit?! i just feel like assuming or expecting people to read what i write and get something out of it is just…cocky. but who knows.
maybe there should be some sort of “theme” for my blog. fuck themes, though! i’m gonna blab about my life and the people are gonna LIKE it. (that’s the spirit, right?)
what’s been going through my noggin lately? well, let’s see. i’m a 24 year old girl who was most recently burned by one of her best friends after professing her feelings for him (and of course sleeping with him, because why WOULDN’T he jump on the opportunity to bang, and why WOULD i suspect he wasn’t being sincere, being one of my closest friends and all..) whoa, bitter resentment, sorry. that’s the only thing i’ll say about it, but anyway, i’ve been taking the clearly healthy route of joining okcupid and trying to shift focus onto other probably fucked up individuals, in hopes of finding…i don’t know what. something, though.
so i scheduled 4 dates in a row with 4 different guys. wednesday through saturday. i made it to friday night before making a second date with one of them, and cancelled mr. saturday, taking an open-ended raincheck on that one. i have yet to redeem it, despite the one “promising” candidate already having gone from FALLING FOR ME (his words, not mine) on date #3 to just wanting to be friends by date #5 with truly very very little explanation.
oh SHIT. see, now i’m feeling like an ass. some guy just messaged me on the stupid shitty cupid messenger with a tip for a good 80’s night (my “you should message me if”), and i’m looking at his profile, he’s pretty cute, makes electronic music. then-BAM, he’s 5’3″. i’m 5’5″. and i hate that that makes me suddenly disinterested. i feel like a piece of shit yet i’m not sure if i love or hate the ability this website has given us to be so goddamned shallow, picky, and judgmental. in one aspect it’s great, because so many of us have those “deal breakers.” but at the same time, how many people am i just passing by because he had a grammatical error on his page? for chrissake, i dated a guy for 7 months who couldn’t address an envelope or write a check. oh, that’s embarrassing on my part? yeah, i know. HE FOOLED ME WITH HIS GOOD LOOKS AND BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN KARAOKE SKILLS, that was it.
i really didn’t intend for this to turn into a diatribe on okcupid and online dating, nor did i intend for this to become a forum for me to whine about my love life. and i’ve done both of those to an overwhelming degree here. so i’m gonna cut myself off right now and go to sleep, because i’ve been staring at this screen for too damn long and my eyes are gonna fall out.