life, love and all that other crap.

what is one to do in a situation like mine? does he take me seriously or keep me on the outside as some sort of stabilizer or familiar entity? i don't know and it's probably my insecurities talking...but who would blame me? i've seen the women he meets at the club he works at two nights every week. they are gorgeous and in a completely different league than me. so why would he ask plan-ol-Brit to be his girlfriend? ....my brain hurts whenever i think of it. does that make it wrong that i justify sleeping with my friends (who, by the way, know all about said boyfriend and my thoughts about it) as a means to salvaging my own heart? if i thought about this too much, my boyfriend would eventually break-up with me (for a fourth time) due to my paranoia which seems to be coming from nowhere. i liked being his friend much more. we went to his friends' houses and i was introduced as his woman to his club-rat friends. maybe this is all my fault. maybe i should've just dropped the line when it was offered without thinking twice. maybe he wouldn't find me to be such a downer if i didn't care that he was fucking himself over. at 34....you'd think he would know better. but i have to be the witness to all of this bullshit. maybe i should've walked into his club like i owned it. maybe i should've been more confident....but how can i compete with his lifestyle? his friends? his world? i feel out of place in it (when he does include me). how can i help, then, feeling single? sleeping over at guy friends' houses because of the convenience; sleeping with whomever i choose...and yet i still say "my boyfriend"...but not in a monogamous fashion. why should i believe HE is? ...he has given me no sign of fidelity...no reason to believe he is faithful to me. maybe "girlfriend" to him is nothing but a license to fuck.
God, i feel cheap.

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I wish i could just run away from all of this. oh wait, i am.

all's well...right?

yeah for new tires and not having to worry if i go over 60 that my car will be no more. thank you daddy.

bowling was fun, although myfriend Der couldn't make it.

some girl with long pig tails told me she wanted to be my magenta knee high socks...i don't quite know why, but i guess she liked them.

smacking boys is fun.

36 kings?!

so i woke up this morning feeling awesome. which shouldn't have happened considering the night i had. everything was fine; me and my beer...then the whisky shot was forced upon me and i was sure i could take it. damn you Sean! my bra, Sean, wasn't there to tell me the age old bra-saying: "Beer before liquor...", so i spent the rest of my night there by the toilet. i was so embaressed. it was definately the whisky that did me in, they all know that. they watched me down 12 beers at party, two weeks previous to that, with ease. i was mad.
i couldn't drive home and my mom kicked me out and i had just found out that the place i was going to stay at was now out of comission because my friend's mom was bringing her boyfriend over. i did the only thing i felt confortable doing. i called my boyfriend. we'd just got done talking about breaking up and having a nice life and all that shit, but i really didn't want it to be like that. took me getting fucked up to get us to talk. it was good.
and now i'm at work...waiting for our stuff to come in so we can actually work. but hey! getting paid to wait for a game to come in is even better than getting paid to play them. *victory dance*

i need a nap.