9*29*2003

Rachael and I just ordered Domino's again. Not that we do it that often. I don't get why they charge more than the pizza place at the subway does for a whole large pie when the slices are half the size. What gives!? I don't feel like writing in here so much lately. I don't know what my deal is. I had a Radiohead song stuck in my head this weekend, so I downloaded songs off their new album (even though I've never heard it) to see which song it was. Then I realized I own the album the song was from, Kid A. The song was Idioteque, which is a really awesome song. Then I decided to listen to the whole album; I don't think I ever really gave it a chance when I bought it a few years back. Turns out the whole album is pretty amazing. So I've been listening to that non-stop the last few days.

The Built to Spill concert was disappointing. They played one of my favorite songs, 'Else', but aside from that they didn't play many other songs I knew. Some tall, drunk fuck stood in front of me before BTS came on stage. I get to shows early for the sole purpose of getting up front to see the band. I'm 5'3"--it doesn't take much for me to not be able to see. I don't pay over $15 to stare at someone's back. And I'll always say something to the 6' guy who has to go and be a dick by standing right in front of me. So I did. And he told me I was jaded and it wasn't his fault I was a lesbian. Yeah...so that made no sense and I figured he was drunk and there was no sense arguing with him, so I just told him not to talk to me. Friggen dirty hippy.

I was walking to the subway after work today, talking to Rachael on the phone, when lo and behold it hit me...bird shit. Right on the arm of my black jacket. That's the first time that's happened to me. Supposedly it's good luck and yadda yadda. But I think someone made that up to make people who get shit on feel better. I thought it was pretty funny though. At least it didn't land on my head. I'm seeing Reverend Horton Heat tomorrow night with Rachael. I'm really excited. He puts on such a good show. Aside from all that, I'm feeling pretty content at the moment. That's always a plus.

9*22*2003

Eegads I haven't written in a while! Last night I went to karaoke with Rachael again. Unbeknownst to me before I got there, the bar was picking three people out of all the singers of the night to compete in their karaoke contest October 19th. And guess who got picked? Me! Lil' ol' me! I wowed the crowd with yet another Elvis song--Hound Dog. I also did Blondie's "One Way or Another", but that wasn't anywhere near as good. Rachael and I sang "Rapture" together. I got to do the rap which was really fun. Finally, years of knowing all the words to that have paid off...sorta. Rachael got picked as one of the final three too. I hope she's not mad when I beat her. Hehe, I'm teasing. But if you're reading this, you have to come watch me make an ass out of myself on the 19th: Fitzpatrick's, around 86th Street and 2nd Avenue in Manhattan-be there or be square.

I saw Goldfrapp with Rory last Thursday. She was pretty good. But it didn't really matter, because I always have fun if I'm with Rory. I wish he lived here. Friday night's cruise with Rachael and her co-workers was interesting. I kind of felt like I was at a wedding reception with the cheesy dj and all the bad dancing. But we had fun when we went to Buttermilk in Brooklyn afterwards and played drunken games of Connect Four and Scrabble. I can't help but feel like a dork for having played board games at a bar.

I drove home to NJ Saturday and spent the night bowling with Katrina and about five other people. I usually hate bowling, but I had fun. Can you believe my game got worse as I got more intoxicated?! What gives?! After that I went back to my mom's house to finish my laundry and managed to break the dryer by accident. I was only in NJ to celebrate my mom's birthday, and then I go and break her dryer. I think she was pretty pissed at me. Oh well. I'm seeing Built to Spill this Thursday. They make me depressed. I wish they didn't, because I really like them. They're just one of those bands that bring back memories of a time I'm trying to forget. I hate when people ruin music for me. Eh, I'm still really looking forward to seeing them though. I'm so tired. I feel like I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep since the beginning of last week. My goal is to go to bed early tonight. Baby steps.

9*16*2003

My mom has always told me that I'm a pretty girl, I just need a nose job. Aside from the fact I couldn't afford anything like that for quite some time, I still don't think I'd do it. I don't think my nose is that bad anyway. It's always come through for me when I needed to smell something.

I already hated the fact that there are at least three pop up advertisements that appear when viewing my site, and then stupid Angelfire went and put embedded advertisements at the bottom of all my pages as well. I think I'll transfer to a paid site once I have the money.

I was online looking at pictures of Johnny Cash's funeral at work the other day and I started crying. I think I'm just a little hormonal. I saw Dirty Pretty Things over the weekend; it was pretty good. This Friday night, if hurricane Isabel doesn't interfere, Rachael and I are going on a boat around Manhattan for a couple of hours. That should be fun. I really love living with a friend. If I'm antsy to get out, I just mosey on over to her room and ask if she wants to go out and that's that. And we end up having fun even if it's just from talking on the way home or walking drunkenly up the stairs. I just hope she doesn't get sick of me. Aww, Milo's nose is wheezing. I should go do homework. Meh!

9*14*2003

So it's 9 in the morning, and I went to bed at at least 4 this morning. So why am I up? Good question. Something is wrong with my sleeping pattern. No matter when I go to bed, I automatically wake up early. Last night Rachael and I went to Otis's Shrunken Head for some punk/ska/harcore/etc. DJ event. I drove into Manhattan and spent about a half hour looking for a parking spot. When we finally got into the bar after midnight, it was ridiculously crowded. There was a band playing on one side of the bar, and music being played on the other; needless to say it was very loud. Rachael and I got some drinks and found an empty booth eventually. There were so many punks and skinheads there. It was very strange. So of course Javier was there. I waved to him and he came over to shoot the shit with me for a couple of minutes. Anyway, Rachael and I were kind of bored, so we decided to go somewhere else.

The bar where I heard that song I can't figure out the name of was close by, so I went in there for a few minutes to search through their jukebox. I felt stupid making notes, and since I had had a few drinks by that point, I can't really remember any of the bands I looked at. Then we headed over to Manitoba's, which was almost as equally crowded as Otis's. While gorgeous, my batmanesque high heels felt like tiny knives digging into my feet, so we went into the basement to sit down on the couch. I think we were there for about ten minutes when lo and behold Adem, the guy from Friendster who said he'd call me but never did, showed up. I pointed him out to Rachael and she said he had been talking with his friends and looking over in our direction. So he must have been telling them I was the psycho who messaged him asking him why he lied. I didn't feel stupid though. Actually I thought it was kind of funny. We made eye contact and he looked away. It was all very high school of him. He skirted around me, avoiding saying hello, for at least another ten minutes. Finally Rachael got tired and we decided to leave. When I stood up, I made eye contact with Adem again, so I widened my eyes and waved. I didn't look long enough to see if he made an effort to wave back or say hi, but I don't think he did. So now I don't care that he didn't call back. Last night's little episode made me realize I wasn't missing out on anything. I guess everything happens for a reason.

9*12*2003

I just thought I'd write a quick something about Johnny Cash. I didn't believe he was dead when I read it on a message board this morning. But then the news confirmed it. I remember saying to Rob after June Carter Cash had died that Johnny was probably going to die soon after. That seems to be the way it goes with older couples. Anyway, it's really sad. He was a truly talented musician. I'll have a drink in his honor with Rachael tonight. And then I'll have many other drinks in honor of drinking.

9*11*2003

Last night Rachael and I were going to random websites on her laptop. I told her to type in an address I thought was right, but turned out to be some really fucking weird site. Check it out www.subculture.com. Let it play for a while. The browser window will start doing some funky things. I think the page shows something different every time you open it.

Rachael and I ordered Domino's Pizza. I feel sick now. She got the land line hooked up just so we can call Domino's from it. Well I actually think she had intentions of using it for other things, but we've decided it's the Domino's phone. I wish it was red and looked like Batman's emergency phone. A girl can dream.

Today was good. I went to one class and then went back home. I had a lab I was supposed to go to, but I'm not allowed to start my lab until I pass an oral quiz that the teacher gives me one on one for twenty minutes. I knew that I wouldn't be able to pass it today, so I figured why waste my time? But my hair looks nice today (and that's all that matters). I hated my hair when I let it grow out for 9 months for Viva Las Vegas. Actually I feel better about the way I look now in general. I was having big self-image issues the first half of the year. I don't know what made me feel better about myself, but I'm not complaining. I'm going to try and go for a long bike ride this weekend. Anyone want to join me? Drop me a line. Or if you're Rachael, walk over to my room and let me know.

9*10*2003

Eh I wasn't even going to bother writing this, but Rachael convinced me otherwise. Someone signed my guestbook with some nasty comments, and then took the cowardly fashion of not leaving an e-mail address so I could to respond to anything they said. Don't bother checking the guestbook for the entry, because I deleted it. My website--I can censor you if I wish to.

I suppose they combed my website with a magnifying glass, because they said I misspelled conceited numerous times. I know I had spelled it wrong in my friendster profile and somewhere in my journal a month ago, but really, who gives a shit? This is not my dissertation, it's a silly online journal. I spell weird wrong sometimes too. It really is a wonder I manage to dress myself in the morning!

Ok what else did they say...oh, something about how I called Rob manic depressive and over-dramatic, and that I shouldn't talk. I realize I've been upset because someone I loved broke my heart. But I hardly call that manic depressive. And I don't think anything I've written here is over-dramatic. I don't see how someone I don't know or who doesn't experience things in my life first hand can tell me I'm wrong to react a certain way. I think a mistake most people make after having read my website is that they assume to know who I am. I write about how I'm feeling, or what's on my mind, or how my day went...this doesn't constitute everything that I am. Like I said, this is just a journal. Random typing I do when I'm bored.

And like I've said numerous times (unlike the word conceited) if you don't like what you read on here, then don't fucking read it! If you really have nothing better to do than go through my entire website to find things to pick at, then there is something seriously wrong with you, not me.

9*09*2003

It's amazing how much I fucking hate school. I dread going to class every day. And I have no drive whatsoever to do homework. I got to school early today and went to the "cyber lounge" to check the e-mail I never have. Some kid next to me needed help with something html related. He seemed pretty impressed with my handy work. I actually don't even think he knew what html was, so of course he was impressed. I got tickets to see Goldfrapp next week. I don't even listen to her, but Rory wanted to go. Any excuse to hang out with Rory.

So karaoke was lots of fun the other night. I sung Elvis's "Heartbreak Hotel" and Patsy Cline's "Walking After Midnight". I think my rendition of "Walking After Midnight" would have made Patsy Cline spin in her grave. But I got lots of positive feedback when I sang Elvis. I can't decide if everyone was just being nice though. Some old man told me I sounded terrific and if he was fifty years younger he'd sweep me off my feet. He must have had his hearing aid out. But I let him buy be a drink anyway. These are the types of men I attract. Grrr.

I wrote Rob an e-mail last week telling him I think I can handle being friends. When he didn't write me back and I didn't see him today in school, I started getting really paranoid and upset. So I called his cell phone before class started and asked him if there was any particular reason he didn't write back. He said he just thought it was understood that we were friends after we talked last week. So I felt stupid and he must think I'm a psycho. Which I am. I really would like to meet someone else. I wonder if I'd give a shit about Rob at all if I didn't know he had a girlfriend? I mean, I'd like to be his friend regardless, but I just don't think I'd be feeling the way I have been lately if I didn't know that bit of info. So I suppose it's my own fault for having read his Friendster profile.

Speaking of Friendster, my incoming messages have waned off. Perhaps when I wrote in my profile that I didn't want to meet guys who have longer or prettier hair than mine, I eliminated 90% of them. Damned hipster hair. If I wanted to date someone who looked like a girl, I'd just go ahead and date a girl.

9*07*2003

Rachael and I are going out to a bar for karaoke in a bit. It was a last minute thing. Perhaps tonight I will fulfill my lifelong dream of getting drunk and singing Patsy Cline to a room full of people! We saw the movie Thirteen last night for lack of anything better to see. It was pretty lame for the most part, not that I expected much more. But we had fun making fun of it. I haven't done too much today. I took a bike ride around Prospect Park twice. There's this one hill that just beats the shit out of me. But I triumphed! On my second trip around the park, I saw a young woman on a stretcher being put into an ambulance. Before I got up close, I saw that her knees were scraped and bloody. But her face was the part that was really screwed up. It was a scraped, bloody mess with pieces of dirt stuck in her wounds. I'm guessing she took a spill either off her bike or her roller blades. Anyway, I just thought it was worth mentioning since it was an image that is still with me.

9*06*2003

It just became the 6th 20 minutes ago, so I hesitated whether or not to put 5th or 6th. But I'll be technical. I'm bored out of my gourd. I went out to dinner with Melissa after work. I had one screwdriver and got a little tipsy. Then we walked around for a little bit and I went home since she had to go back to Staten Island to pack. I called a bunch of people in the afternoon to try and make some plans for tonight so I wouldn't have to sit home. But everyone sucks and I got stuck here. And I started looking at a certain someone's Friendster profile and I got myself a little upset. I'm so bored with getting upset about the same thing. I need something new to upset me.

Well school upsets me, but that's not new. Instrumental Analysis looks like it's going to be hell on earth. My teacher is an asshole.

I messaged the Friendster guy who said he'd talk to me "tomorrow" three weeks ago and haven't heard from since. I was thinking how that was pretty shitty of him while I was sitting at work today, so I decided to instigate some sort of response. And he replied saying he has no problem with talking to me and yadda yadda. I don't know why I bothered. I guess I was just bored, as am I now. I'm irritating myself. I think I'll go to the gym tomorrow and run on the treadmill. That used to help me relieve some emotional distress once upon a time. I just hope I find something to do tomorrow night, because there's no way I'm sitting here again.

9*03*2003

So I said I wouldn't write about Rob unless there was some sort of interaction between us. And I'm going to hold true to that. Yesterday was the first day of school and I got there about an hour too early. I overestimated how much time it would take to buy tickets for Built To Spill and Death Cab For Cutie at Irving Plaza. Anyway, I was sitting at a computer in the "cyber lounge" at school, wasting time until my class started. Everytime the door opened, I would look over to see if it was anyone I knew. Then one time it was someone I knew--it was Rob. Our eyes both met and we stared (glared) at eachother for a good ten seconds. Finally I decided to wave and he slowly trudged over to me. We both said hi and things were very weird. I was nice to him though, and he was nice back. We ended up talking for about an hour. We just caught up on what we had both been doing over the summer, leaving out my dating and his new girlfriend of course. Seeing him wasn't as horrible as I thought it'd be; actually I felt relieved. And I think there's a possibility I might be able to be his friend after all. I hadn't seen him in almost three months before yesterday (not counting the back of his head walking away Sunday night).

I was going to go to a Howard Dean meet-up today, but I wrote down shitty directions and ended up getting off the subway too far away from where I was supposed to go. If it wasn't for the shitty weather, I'd have tried a little harder to find a way there. For those that care to know who Howard Dean is, go here www.deanforamerica.com. And then sign up as a supporter! So instead of doing something worthwhile, I'm sitting here drinking a beer. I can't tell how this semester is going to go yet. My classes haven't really begun since the teachers are still going over preliminary crap. My Criminalistics class seems really cool though. We're going to test fingerprints and blood samples finally! It only took four years, but I'm finally taking a class that has something to do with my major!

9*01*2003

I just got done watching Romie and Michelle's High School Reunion for the 7 thousandth time. Today's Rachael's birthday so she, Bernard and I went out to dinner and came back to the apartment for ice cream and a movie. I got her a ticket to see Reverend Horton Heat at the end of the month. I wanted to get her something else vintagesque when I was in NJ this weekend, but the store I wanted to go to closed early.

Last night Rachael and I went to Niagra for a sci-fi/horror movie night I've been wanting to check out for a while. But since it was a holiday weekend, they decided not to have that event and go more mainstream or some crap. When we first walked up to the bar, I was looking for the flyer I had seen before in the window outside that advertised the horror night. I spotted it and pointed it out to Rachael and she looked at me and said, "Was that Rob?" My heart kinda sank and I was like "What!?" I looked in the direction she was looking and saw Rob walking away. I didn't see what had happened, but apparently Rachael said he was smoking and she thought he saw her, but then realized he was looking at me and maybe waiting for me to realize he was there. But I guess when he knew I didn't see him, he took that opportunity to get the hell out of there before I did see him. As I was watching him walk away with his odd duck walk, I had a million different thoughts flying through my head. I couldn't figure out what to do. I felt like I had to do something though. Rachael was walking into Niagra and I was standing in the doorway looking at her and back towards the direction he had headed, wondering if I should just go inside, or run after him and yell at him or hit him or something. I finally forced myself to go inside and get drunk. I ended up having fun despite having the awful luck of picking the same place as him to hang out. This is a big city, what are the chances?

Rachael was talking to me in the subway on the way to Niagra and basically told me I'm coming off as needy with all the crap I'm writing about Rob on my website. And she's right. And I need to stop. I need to move on. My mom basically said the same thing to me on the phone today, but much harsher. She said it's his life and he can be with who he wants and I can't do a damn thing about it. All of which I realize already. I just keep wanting to hurt him like he did me...get even some way. But no matter how hard I'd like to hit him, I'll never be able to hurt him the way I want because I don't have that hold on him like he does with me. So me obsessing about this any longer is fruitless and a waste of time. Rachael also asked if Rob read this, and I answered her with certainty that he didn't. But now I'm thinking about it and I really have no clue. On the offchance that he does though, I just need to stop. If there is some sort of interaction between he and I in the future, I'll write about it. Otherwise, this will hopefully be that last time. I want to be done with this; I don't want to be angry and hurt anymore. I'm better than this, I'm better than him. I somehow keep overlooking what a shitty boyfriend he was. I was a good girlfriend and things went to shit because of him, not me.

This girl is a nerd, get me outta here