Well, apparently I wasn't the only one who's been burned by the freak who flamed me in my guestbook. Anyway, if you want to see this girl's site (sorry, I thought it was a guy, usually only guys are this immature) Click Here. I told her in her guestbook that I liked her page, for the most part, but I thought the animated dividers were irritating. Personal opinion, you know? Not worth attacking me over.
Something amazing happened to me today. My Accounting professor called me at work, to find out why I hadn't been to class in a couple months (the final was on Saturday). I explained that I missed a couple of tests (thanks to Krisco interfering in my life, and me freaking out), and I figured there wasn't a chance in hell of me passing, so I gave up.
He asked, "Do you really want to fail?"
Stupid question. "No."
He then told me that he'd fax over a copy of the final exam, and if I did well on it, I'd get a C in his class (for those of you not in college, that's passing). I was ecstatic. So, that's what I'm doing tomorrow night, thank you. I need to fax it back to him on Wednesday.I admit it, I do read a couple other journals. Anyway, I want you to check out The Underground Rants If you like my writing style (go figure some people's taste), you should like hers. Warning, she's going through a really tough time right now, since her boyfriend broke up with her, so try not to write snippy shit in her guestbook.
Ken's quit bugging me. I expect the police to be banging on my front door any day now. Oh well, I've got bigger problems.
I'm really getting sick of goddamn poetry sites. I've found 2--only 2 that I've liked in all my surfing. The rest of it is garbage. In my not-so-humble opinion anyway. I guess anything other than T.S. Eliot and Baudelaire is just too nouveau for me.
I'm lonely, and I'm not sure why. I miss C--, I miss talking to Katie (she's so busy lately). Hey, Katie, if ya still need condoms, they have a dispenser in the ladies' room at Sheetz!!. 75 cents! Enough whining.
I need to get my ass in gear for the latest issue. Don't have a clue what I'll write about. I guess I did okay on my final for Intro to Info Sys. Won't know 'till grades come out. I got a "B" on that assignment I faxed in. Fuck that. Asshole. I worked my ass off on that.
Deb's supposed to come home soon. I feel bad, because I haven't e-mailed her in a while. I don't e-mail much of anyone lately. Dunno why.
I've been thinking about Katie's last birthday party--probably because her next one will be soon. It was hell. A jacuzzi party, and I don't ever wear swimsuits. Yes, I'm that self-concious. Besides, you never expect Secret Agents to wear swimsuits. It's out of character. Anyway, Dirk and I were already involved by then, and he'd promised me that he wouldn't go in the jacuzzi if I wasn't going to. As soon as we got to the party, he procured makeshift swimming trunks (courtesy of Katie's mom) and not only got in the jacuzzi, but proceeded to flirt with Heather, one of Katie's friends.
I couldn't say anything, because Ken was there. We were still dating, supposedly in love. I just sat there feeling like something was ripping me up inside. I left the party twice, once to go driving, and another time to walk around at 11:00 at night. I missed the candle-blowing ceremony, which no one noticed. I remember Dirk hugging Heather when she had to go, and promising to call her. I later found out that he did.
When I freaked, and confronted him, Dirk forced me to admit that I'd been jealous. When I asked why this final humiliation had been necessary, why I'd needed to say it out loud, he responded, "I needed to know how you really felt."
"Oh, as if fucking leaving the party twice wasn't a pretty good indication?"Maybe I should just let it go. Just forget the fact that I spent most of that evening wanting to scream until blood fountained from my lungs instead of air. Forget sitting under the umbrella on Katie's deck, watching Dirk not twenty feet away, and not being able to say anything. Forget leaving Dirk and Ken sitting in my car when I was dropping Ken off and walking away by myself. Forget sitting on the curb under the halogen light of a streetlamp, watching moths dance and feeling empty. Empty.
Perhaps I should take into account that Dirk acted as he did out of uncertainty, because I'd been so callous to him. Because there was really no way for him to know how I felt about him.
Or maybe I should just remember the look on Krisco's face (they were still dating at the time) when I told her what he did at that party. She'd informed me that he'd called that girl, Heather, after he'd sworn to me he wouldn't....I believe in trading information for information. I'd be surprised if Krisco didn't bitch about it for at least a week. I hope Dirk enjoyed that, my little gift to him for that night. I never asked.
Just in case you thought ours was a love story meant for romance novels.
Fuck Netscape and Fuck AOL and fuck this entire Internet bullshit, because I just had to retype that whole entry from memory. Fucking A!!!!