I figured that drunk blogging would be better than drunk dialing, even I am only really drunk on a legal level. I would have to drink far more than I have to reach that level where all is lost.
What could I talk about where I am at now?
How bout how there is someone in my life that thinks that he is the fucking nicest guy in the worls, but really he isn't? He says shit all the time that indicates that he doesn't really know me like he thinks he does and that he is truly the absolute last man I should be with.
And what about Mr.WhereHaveYouBeen? Am I his ball of yarn? Am I filling the time between bad girlfriends? Will I ever pull him away from his geeky pursuits long enough to plead my case with leather and lace?
That's where I am at. what the hell is this where I'm like nothing to anyone?
I don't think I have mentioned it, but I have set the ball a rollin' to get my MBA. Whatever, you know. It's pretty obvious that nothing happens unless I do it my damn self.
makes it hard, when people who are giving me relationship advice are recommending an air of aloofness or whatever. All that gets me is uh, hmm...being everyone's little buddy. As a matter of fact, I think I shall change my name to Gilligan.
It's pathetic. Stupid boys going on and on with there I don't wants or whatever. And here I am not falling into that category, yet someone not good enough.
Maybe I am being unfair.
sure, an additional degree'll just make me that much more undatable, but maybe (finally) I'll gave enough of an income on my own that I won't care. And drawer full of battery operated boyfriends to chase the blues away. Some picture, eh?
I wish I was a pessimist. I would have never expected more for myself, and therefore would have never been disappointed. I wouldn't care that my lfe is abyssmally boring and ordinary because I would have never thought that it should be more than this.
I almost wish I had more to drink r9ght now because then maybe I could make some progress with some drunk dialing.
Not that it's worth my time. I'm go get my jammies on and throw on a movie or two and sleepy sleepy and dream about good stuff. Stuff I deserve. No balls of yarn or imaginary boyfriend, just happy stuff.
SO what I spend my next fifty years on this planet alone, it's really not my loss. I've got people. My people like me. It's not my fault the other are too afraid to see the fun that is me...
Whatever whatever whatever...