And you thought I was making it up, didn't you? Roachboy is reading this journal. He even e-mailed me.
He's pissed. At least, I assume so, since he hasn't bothered to e-mail me in a while. I didn't bother reading the e-mail, because it's just not that kind of day. Maybe I hurt his fiancee's feelings (maybe he shouldn't have given her the URL and let her loose on me like a rabid pig), or maybe he's going to claim that the picture is really her. There's a whole plethora of things he could be mad about, really. I just don't feel like putting up with his whining.
I'm never going to bother with civility towards Roachboy again. Not after he decided to harass me on the day he knew I was having the abortion. He has nothing to say which interests me.
If it bugs you, don't read it. Don't e-mail me, I don't care.
I'm so damn tired.
I didn't get much sleep last night, although I went to bed fairly early(ish). I kept waking up throughout the night. Part of the problem is that my period is lasting far too long. It's been a week and a half. Not pretty.
I stopped by Katie's on the way to visit Dirk last night. I couldn't stay long, because I was already late. I ended up getting to Dirk's at 7:50. Aaron called me into his room, to tell me about a couple interesting job opportunities he'd heard about that he might let Dirk in on, if Dirk learns to drive. Light construction and something else...paper delivery, I think. Sonia came in a couple minutes later and, although she responded politely to my greeting, she was definitely pissed. She and Aaron seemed to be in the midst of another fight.
So I made my exit and woke Dirk up. We watched the State of The Union Address together, and laughed at the stupidity of some of Clinton's proposed policies. I'd bought him a candy bar at work, as a sort of peace offering. Unfortunately, I put it in my coat pocket, and it became rather flattened.
I really like Sonia's jacket. It's shiny. I may ask her where she got it, one day.
In the pet store on Sunday I was reading a children's book about hamsters and how to take care of them. Very informative. But I don't think it was honestly written with the hamsters' feelings in mind. They tell you to "hang pieces of vegetables from the top of the hamster's cage, so the hamster has to reach for them. It's fun for the hamster, and it will get much-needed exercise." Bull. I tried that suggestiion out, and Blitzkrieg's sulking right now.
And aren't hamsters supposed to be little fur-covered blobs?
I'm eating a hell of a lot of breath mints this morning. On the package it says "SUGAR FREE -- NOT FOR WEIGHT CONTROL." Now what the hell do they mean by that? Does it have special "stealth" calories, that aren't listed in the nutrition information? Oh...it's got aspartame. The stuff that causes cancer. I guess they don't want you scarfing down the carcinogens....
I cut out the sharks from our packages of Xerox paper. I'm going to scan them (when I have a LOT of free time), and encorporate them into the design of this page. They're a very pretty light teal.
I just figured out how to block Roachboy from my work e-mail, too. Not only that, but it will send his mail back to him. I'll write more this evening, but I promised to sign Dirk up for the HTML class I'm taking. He's all for expanding his mind.
(2:00 pm)I think I'm going to quit reading old e-mails C-- sent me. It hurts. I always get the urge to copy them and send them to him and ask him why he's not that way anymore. Demand, actually.
As if I'm in any position to make demands.
I actually forwarded one to him, as a sort of mute appeal, before I caught myself.
Fuck it, it's time to move on. He's as good as lost to me, and I will never know why. I need to quit wondering when I'll hear from him, like a lover cast aside unexpectedly. We were never lovers, and this has been coming for a while. I just couldn't see it.
I don't think anyone can make it stop hurting anymore.
Roachboy just doesn't give up. He's now taken to sending me e-mails that consist of only a subject line, no text. What he doesn't seem to realize is my account drops them in the deleted items box automatically, and I only see them if I choose to check the contents of the box. And he can fucking shove his Velvet Underground references.
Welcome, Internet Stalkers.
And I thought Krisco was dumb......Roachboy has outdone himself, folks. He signed my guestbook. He wants you guys to e-mail him. Please, do. And let him tell you about how perfectly awful I am. And how badly I've screwed him over.
Just so you're not shocked, let me go over the main points of what I have done. 1) I cheated on him, with Dirk. And then I dumped him. Not for Dirk. 2) Dirk still has some of Roachboy's CD's.....just like Roachboy still has a fuck of a lot of my money. Roachboy doesn't get his shit back until I get the money. 3) I've refused to send Roachboy the tapes from his old band. Again, this is due to a fuck of a lot of money I'm owed.
He's bored, poor baby. His life sucks. He really wants Dirk back as a bandmate, but he was never willing to help Dirk out with his emotional problems.....and I'm not scared of contact with him. I'm tired. Maybe he should try having an abortion and moving out in rapid succession. He still lives with his folks. As for pathetic and sad...hello, what do you call someone who can't get their shit published in real life, so they put it on the 'Net? A loser.
I'll say it one more time, Kenneth (Roachboy). Back way the fuck off. No-one here wants you back, no-one here misses you. And that's what bothers you the most, isn't it?