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11-26-03 - 12:25 a.m.

I'm the little journalist of my own local news. Sometimes I find myself without stories, but simply with loose ends and updates.

Wolfe and I are apparently no longer friends. Maybe we never were. We never met. I'd been talking to him on the phone and online for over a year, and he, living 2 hours away, had finally come to a place where he seemed willing to leave his socially anxious hermitbubble and meet me. I think that my apostrophe towards him in a previous diary entry was part of the issue, but he wouldn't acknowledge that. Talking online we got in a fight about of all things, Paris Hilton. I expressed how I think she's being expolited, and that she is not "responsible" or "deserving" of this circus simply because she made a videotape for private consumption. What happened with Wolfe is he thought that I was arguing with him about this just because I like to dispute his every point. The reason, he holds, that I do this is because I don't want to believe his opinions about me are the truth. I think this was a rather ridiculous reflection of Wolfe's projection. So we're not talking anymore, I guess. I was admittedly sad, I even cried. I did want to meet him. But I really can't put up with his attitude, anyhow.

Bat and I got together Sunday, after I spent the night with Casey. We didn't have much emotional chemistry, but he was horny and we ended up having sex shortly before he was due to go to movie night. It felt good at the time, but afterwards we both felt awkward and honestly I felt a bit used. I hoped blindly he would not go to movie night in order to spend time with me. But he didn't want to spend time with me. I've been dreaming of Bat all the time. I'm not sure I completely want him, but I don't feel ready to move on. In other words, I'm supremely confused about my motives and I think it's just going to get worse. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this is all "part of the process." I called him this morning just to say I love you. Thinking about him makes me despondent and gives me self-destructive urges.

I've called Nash two or three times since I last saw him. Since he hasn't returned the calls, he is officially a fuck-and-run. I can't technically blame him for anything. The truth is, I didn't need an implied relationship. He said it was escapism, nothing more, and I was happy with that. However, I enjoyed his company as a human being, and I thought it was implicit that he enjoyed mine. We talked for several hours! We knew each other in middle school! Therefore, I expected that he would at least like to see me again as a person. Did all of this change when he slept with me? The man didn't even call to ask for seconds!

Dicey has been an absolute bitch. I don't have the energy to detail it all here, but "You're a whore" has been her main offensive line. Believe me, it does get to me, even when she's just speaking bullshit and accusing me of things she did not do. It scares me how much anger she can bring up in me. Sometimes I quite literally would like to rip off her face. I feel my psycho killer potential rising, and yet, for so much of my life she has been one of the top five priorities and she doesn't even fucking know it. She even has the nerve to give me lectures about what a bad sister I am. In her mind, I never can do enough for her, and it's my lack of effort that she uses to justify her meanness. I know that she's mentally ill, and she's an asshole, and that she's wrong on so many points...but that doesn't stop from making the words that come out of her mouth intensely, intensely painful. I know I will never seriously hurt her. I will simply continue in this cycle of helping her and getting hurt and hurting her.

Frankly, I'm sick of it. I can't wait to move out.

I actually have an idea -- these three Indian guys I met.

I deleted Dan's number from my phonebook, but his legacy lives on...through a small black vibe.

I want to call Casey, but he told me that he'd be busy...

Today is my second smoke-free, nicotine-free day. Woot!

Tommorrow is Thanksgiving, and I sincerely plan to use it as a day of gratitude, despite the fact that it's also a disgusting imperialistic binge holiday.

 

 

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