Sunday, October 31

slipped


I haven't eaten for a few days so I'm dropping weight again. Dropping, like I can just bend over and pick it up again. Not losing because it's not something I want to find. Subtracting because that makes it math and therefore the right answer. The only problem with that is numbers are never wrong, so I'm just long-walking myself closer and closer to the finish line, which isn't some huge prize like I want to believe but is more like, well, death. I apologize for being so depressing. It's Halloween and probably a good night for a binge.

Thursday, October 28

wow, and i almost went x amount of years without seeing that


I just saw a vagina.

That is precisely why I hate spyware.

fabulous by choice


On the ana boards a boy has the signature "born gay, fabulous by choice." His goal weight is 120 pounds. He is the same height as me. I almost puked and then killed myself when I read this.

I don't approve of people who think it's ok to use the word "fabulous" as an adjective to describe a person or thing. It is an adjective to describe abstract things if you have to say it at all--fabulous weather, fabulous mood, fucking fabulous day. On rare occassions, you can use it to describe sex, but only if neither of you are fairy gay.

It's ok, though, because in the ana world his idiocy doesn't matter since I weigh 35 pounds less than his goal weight (putting me at a good 70 lbs less than his current). Now I just have to survive it.

another one of those 'you know you're anorexic when...'


By October, you are incredibly adept at getting in and out of gloves quickly. This being because you practically get frostbite not wearing them; your hands are so cold you can't move them to manipulate objects, but with them on you are also clusmy. So off they go when anything needs to happen, and then back on again so your hands will be useful for next time.

Also if you buy your gloves in the little kids' section of the store.

You know you're a little on the strange side if you get excited about them having a Spider-man hologram on them. And yes, rubber spiderweb grips on the palms to help you climb walls (don't try this at home, kids).

Monday, October 25

if you don't have a pop-up blocker...


You might recognize the image on the new banner.

Yes, it is definitely from your lovely friends at iFriends--the "I could be porn, but maybe I'm not, let's see if you can guess from our ads!" site. Half the time it's "Live webcam fucking!" and the rest of the time it's sweet pictures of men and women hugging with muted hues that say things like, "Meet your life partner at iFriends."

Anyway. Change is good and all that. Tired of that depressing after diana died shit.

(This sounds like a Xanga entry. Shoot me.)

p.s. I also thought putting breasts on my site would increase hits. Just saying the word breasts will probably increase them. I also think it'd be a good irony for some horny straight guy to search for "knockers," show up on my site, and then find himself reading about (shhh!) gay sex.

If you are that straight man, you are probably saying "holy shit!" while I am laughing.

This really is just a plot directly from the homosexual agenda to convert red-blooded American homophobes into musical-listening fairies. (Tink's an ass, guys. Stay away from her.) And, um, your homework is to be attracted to a man tonight!

women who hate men


I spoke to a girl today who had a lot to say, mostly including such quips as "well of course you'd feel that way, you do have a Y chromosome." She informed me that men were all arrogant assholes, that we thought she was a whore if she fucked us and a bitch if she wouldn't. I looked shocked and told her I wasn't interested.

I asked her if she was a feminist and, like the fucking situation, didn't know which answer I wanted--either way she lost. I crossed my fingers she would say no, because feminism doesn't need any more man-hating to bring it down. I prayed she'd say yes so I wouldn't have to point out that she was an idiot.

She told me she hated men because they were sexist. I pointed out that if she hated men for being sexist, she was being sexist and therefore hated herself. She said she was not a feminist. I told her she was stupid.

She corrected my grammar on more than one occasion and I asked her why she was so insecure. She told me she wasn't, but you only get nitpicky like that when you have something to prove. I reminded her that I sign, therefore I'm dealing with different grammatical rules on a regular basis and get to have some confusion. "That's something you learn in third grade," she said, and continued, "and if you call me stupid again I'll really make you feel like a moron."

I asked her if she learned that in preschool, the false bravado and threats, and she corrected some other grammatical error. I bid her goodnight. She called me a jackass, the kind of man that treats women like doormats, and used that little "warn" button that AOL thought was such a great idea but I've never seen it used for good.

And so I sit here, blinking in total confusion. I was a good sport through all the man-hating, but everyone-hating (anti-feminism) is just something I can't tolerate. I would apologize for it but I think it's a fairly standard view.

Looking for intelligent life is hard work and I'm exhausted.

Sunday, October 24

truth or dare


I don't think it's a good sign for the relationship when your first kiss with someone is because of this game.

Made my heart pound anyway.

I am such a girl.

Wednesday, October 20

perfect fantasy weather


Tuesday, October 19

why he won't kiss me II


Wrapped in coats in the back of my truck, signing angrily: Why can't anyone ever do the right thing? Why?

He smiles a little bit, glances at the SUV across the parking lot. His hands are hesitant tonight like he doesn't remember what he's doing. His hands have forgotten a lot of things, but who can blame them when it's been so long? "What do you base your 'right thing' off of?"

What do you think.

"Hey. If I had not made that choice, if I was still getting fucked up every night, would this--" (IX, eyes cutting towards the SUV again) "--bother you so much?"

I lean my head on his shoulder and sigh.

"You know what comes next."

I nod, he says it anyway.

"I did the right thing for me and for you. I made sacrifices for you and I would again. You're worth it. It's--"

about priorities.

"Priorities. His are getting fucked up. My priority is you. Yours are horses and people who don't deserve it. That's who we are."

So beautiful, I sign half-heartedly.

"He is. But so are you."

Saturday, October 9

to bum a fag


Quick note: If the phrase "ass fucking" ever comes up in conversation, make sure to sound completely disgusted and put a lot of emphasis on ass.

"Bumming a fag" sounds a lot like an euphemism for ass fucking.

Asking a gay person to bum you a fag will offend someone.

I personally see it as much more productive to "take back a word" blah blah blah, "make it yours" by switching to Brit slang than by using it on each other and therefore just agreeing with a bigot's view of your subgroup ('friendly' use of nigger, anyone?). Agreeing with KKKers or lung cancer, which is better?

(No one would bum me a fag. They just laughed. Seriously, though, all bumming aside--I needed a fucking fag.)

why he won't kiss me


"You're too young for me. And I'm straight."

That's never stopped anyone before.

But really what we're coming down to is mincing words, because when he says it's not a kiss it was a "lip sucking," I get a little confused, because last time I checked there were mouths and tongues involved and that's pretty much what a kiss is. I don't think you get much more kiss-like than that.

Mostly we just go to the non-cool college kid hangout. He sings pirate songs with friends and I nuzzle against the vibration of his throat. Cold cold cold, I'm signing, and he wraps his arms tighter around me. "I'm totally straight," he tells me for the millionth time (I'm supposed to have the bad memory) and we laugh but his smile is much prettier.

"Let me tell you about him," a mutual friend says. "He's just one of those people that has smoked so much weed and gone to so many Phish concerts that he operates on a totally different frequency than the rest of us. To him this is straight behavior. Don't sweat it."

Of course I'm not sweating anything, it's 49 degrees and I have bad circulation. He can tell people whatever he wants, but that doesn't change sweet nothings in my inbox (and by sweet nothings I mean it. Emails usually go something like "Good morning. Thinkin about you. Sweet nothings--Justin") or calls like, "Yo yo, are we going out tonight because I sorta had plans but I'd rather be with you so I need to know so I can think of a way to blow off this other thing, get back to me and don't forget the nose nuzzles."

Andre just got a totally gorgeous girlfriend and tell us he'll have a party when he sees us kiss for the first time. He says he's going to buy a noise maker and carry it around with him until it happens. Maybe this is why Justin won't kiss me, but it really doesn't have to be that public. Maybe he's just waiting for me to get the mattress in the back of my pickup truck.

Thursday, October 7


If you are unmotivated and hate school, taking online classes is not really a good thing. Much too easy to forget about it or brush it off. That's my wisdom for the day.

Otherwise, someone left me a comment signed "you know who" and I don't know who, but I rolled my eyes a little bit because either I think of you or I don't, and I suspect you know the answer. There's not really a need to be all melodramatic about it. And if it is who it might be and you're pissed because we haven't talked in awhile, well, get over it. Sometimes life takes up time. Sometimes I'm too apathetic to care. And the next card--the ace of Guilt Trip--I'm fucking sick, ok? Some days I can't get out of bed so get the hell off my back about it.

Saturday, October 2

blah blah blah


High-schoolers amaze me. I don't know what it is about college, but there are very few college freshmen that are as stupid as high school seniors. I think over the summer, the government abducts all graduates to do a brain-swap that allows them to appear intelligent, versus a bunch of assholes who create psuedo-relationships just to break psuedo-relationships by creating another one with someone else. Or, whatever. The drama is just way too complicated to even delve into. (And for the record, people who cheat will always cheat. The end. It's not that he cheated on his girlfriend because you are so much better than she is; he cheated on his girlfriend because he's a lying fuckface and you were available.)

At college you can bring your guitar and sit around singing musicals all day. Class is a mild irritation. But you go, and you pass, because after all you are paying $60 a credit hour, and what's the point of failing when there's that much money involved?

There's also the sudden realization that the only reason relationships need titles in the first place is to assure you that no one is going to go away on you, that you have a little bit of control in the situation. All his attention is for you, even if it's not. Essentially life is a lot better when you know by his actions that he is yours instead of just empty words. And when you know it, really know it, then it doesn't matter if he does go away for a little--because he'll always come back.

88 pounds does not feel as good as it should. Doesn't feel like much of anything. I'm alive without really being so.

He ran away for a couple days, just to get some alone time. He needs a lot of that but it's the last thing I need, so I'm deciding if I'll spend the weekend with Justin or Pretty Ryan. So many pretty boys, so little time.