oh heart

If i really wanted to, i could go back and make it work. I can tell by the tone in his voice and by the things he says. He's just as arrogant perhaps even more, but now pompous, and dramatic.
He says " you don't love him as much as you loved me"
I don't want to burst that bubble of his. It's what keeps him going, silly and ridiculous illusions.

I scared a suitor off. Just by fingering a few illuminated buttons. I don't really care. I probably did it on purpose, subconsciously while sipping on that sweet elixir that makes my head buzz.

I never scared him off even with 20 harassing phone calls within a hour lapse of time. He listened but also hurled insults which stung my ears.

It's okay, i'll continue to be irrational and sit in solitude. Accompanied only by memories of the past and the sweet conversations that we once had.

Is it Vile or Bile?

Vile or Bile it all means the same to me. This blog would of been a lot better yesterday. I'm not as angry about it today. Nonetheless, Bile, Vile I guess my liver is having some problems. I attribute it to all the nights of wine drinking in Italy. Actually I'm not really sure if that is it but, I've always known that my body was going to fail me a lot earlier than expected.

I weighed 3 lbs 6 oz when i was born. It was a big deal then not so much now. They have all kinds of technology that they didn't have before. My parents thought i was going to die and i was in hospital for 3 months after my birth. Every once in a while when my mom gets really pissed at me. She yells " Do you know how much we suffered when you were born!! Do you know how much your hospital bills were? And this is how you treat us?" I just kinda laugh and say" but you still love me right?"
Well seems like i will be back to the beginning where all the poking, prodding, ripping, and piercing started. I don't remember any of it and glad for it cause it was a scary site. I've seen pictures and I looked awful. Tubes and tape all over my little body. My parents say I looked like a little rat and they couldn't even hold me properly because i would slip from in between their arms.
Anyways, I'm sick. I've always kinda of known my body was going to give up sooner then later. I've been fragile from the very beginning, except now I'll remember it all.

Blabbers

I understand that blogs are blogs. Nothing serious, but what really fucking bugs me is that individuals that state that they are aspiring writers, majors in journalism, literature, or English are not able to put together a proper sentence or an idea that makes any fucking sense, or for that matter can't spell. There's a spell checker!!! No reason for misspellings. Now i 'm not a writer or pretend to have any good ideas or stories to write about, but those of you that are please, please, please use the spell checker!!! And articulate a proper fucking sentence.

Maybe I'm being so stinky because my arm just got jabbed by a needle at the hospital( blood tests). I'm a fragile human being and you would think that the nurse would have sympathy for my tinny little vein, but no!! She just slammed that needle into my precious little vein and held it there. I can see a bruise forming that will be a reminder of her unkindness for the next weak. Blah Blah Blah.. Poor me...

She said what??!!?

I absolutely love curb your enthusiasm and Larry David. If you don't already know about this show, do yourself a favor and go down to your local movie rental spot and get yourself the first season.

I was in Barcelona a bit ago sitting in a hostel reading a magazine waiting for my roommate to get back from her walk. When i come across Tyra Banks'ugly mug. I can't stand her. She bothers me to the max, her face, interviewing skills, body. I can't watch any of her shows for more than a sec without vomiting in my mouth a little. The sentence that almost sent me into hysterics "I have a crush on him. I know he's single." WTF!!! That bitch said that she has a crush on fucking Larry David. I hope that stalker from Georgia gets his way with her. Actually no i don't wish that, but she does repulse me.

These days and my future

I can't do this to myself anymore. I keep saying, repeating it in my head over and over and over again but i don't listen. So i have another drink, trying desperately to be social, talk and smile. Be interested, ask questions, bop your head up and down. I'm trying to be enthusiastic about this band but can't too many shit heads, scenesters, and trendsters, wanting to be seen.
Staying up until 4am and waking at 9am isn't what a responsible young women should be doing. I'm too old for this shit, i know. I can see it in my eyes, but i don't care enough. The iced peas i hope will do the job and I'm hoping my genes will help me as well.
It will only be a little while longer until i graduate. Five more classes to be exact. I don't know if i will stay here or go back home to California. I've been noticing a lot of shit talking about California lately. I don't know why Portlanders hate California so much. Maybe cause it's always sunny there.
Future plans are always hazy.I use to think everything was very clear cut with my future. I once had a fiancee and conversations about marriage and children. I can't stress enough how happy i am now that didn't happen. Nonetheless i got fucked around, by who? or what? not sure. I'm thinking maybe God, laughing at me for trying to make plans for my "perfect future". I am now way behind the curve. It's okay, i tell myself i've learned a lot in the process. Yea i've learned a lot.

I'm thinking Buenos Aires next. I've heard good things.

2:53 in the am

Nothing good comes at this time in the morning i know but it seems like the perfect time. what enters into a persons brain at almost 3am? i'm gonna find out, mis-spelled and all. I'm gonna call someone that's the most that i understand from this, i feel like i almost owe it to myself. I'm in a trance. I look to my phone, someone should of texted or called but didn't oops i was suppose to text back, too late for that now. I'm gonna harass someone at this time at night and gonna regret it. Hmmm this is too fucking weird. I don't think i'm going to be able to get back to sleep, Clint Eastwood sounds tooo fucking good to me right now, Dirty Harry and all.

Stupidity at it's best

"The orange is sick isn't it?" I have to think a bit. I don't want to get "the look" or cause a scene. The last time i disagreed or said something inappropriate a vase flew past my head, and crashed into a bunch of triangle crystal pieces. Not to be out done, I returned the favor but with marble not crystal.
"Yea it's great" i say.
" Shit it's more than great. It looks mean doesn't it? Like it's gonna tear up the road." "Oh yea it looks ferocious, like an animal!! ha ha!!"
I'm hoping that he will catch the sarcasm but doesn't. He thinks I'm serious. This is the biggest mistake. "Yea i can totally do this. Have you seen anyone driving this car around in orange? Fuck no!! Look at the bull on the screen it just lights up."

I'm surrounded by pretentious salesmen trying to pretend like they don't care if they make a sale or not. They are utterly desperate but so is he. They've already pinned me as the gold digger. Any girl of my age seen with a man of his age could be nothing but. They were right to an extent. I've known him way before the bull. Just three years back he was driving a piece of shit and living in a apartment that reeked of mildew. I didn't care. He was easy on the eyes, caring, and patient. It was all a facade. After years and years it all unravelled. He wants to play "the game" with these guys. He says "I'm going to think about it." We drive home. I stare past the window look at the palm trees and beach it's beautiful but, i wish i was somewhere else with someone else. "Hey! Hey!" he says. "What's going on? Aren't you stoked about the car? Why do you always have to do this? Why are you so serious all the time?"
He didn't know i was keeping secrets, he didn't care just as long as i was agreeable and looked pretty sitting next to him. He didn't know how dead i was inside because of him and how stuck i felt.
"Yea the car is awesome. Why didn't you get it?"
He says "I'm going to have them eating out of my hand. They're gonna bring down the price. I can tell. They really want to sell it. Shit that car is so sick!! Fucking sick!!"
I can't bring myself to say it but i do. He needs it " Yea its sick." What 35 year old man says "sick" apparently this one. He needs this car. I know the reason behind it. He needs to feel wanted, noticed, and accepted by these shiteous people in this fucking town. He needs to have the blonde with fake breasts staring and noticing him. I know that's what he wants and he's going to get it. I know that it doesn't mean shit. I know that the blonde will talk him up, but i also know that it's for the car not him. I really use to love him without the car and the things. It's all gone now, dried up. I didn't belong to him anymore. I feel bad for him. I feel bad for his insecurities that drive him to such things.

I make our not so perfect dinner in the perfect kitchen, overlooking the perfect pool, with the perfect dog, and the perfect matching leather couches. We watch some variation of CSI. I hate these shows but he's content, so i sit and watch. His unnatural happiness is now comprised of what sits down stairs in his garage. I look at him he's smiling, not at me at the T.V. He isn't really smiling at what he's watching. He's smiling at the idea of what people now think of him. How am i going to get out of this? I think. How the fuck do i get myself out of this shit storm.