1%

after my battle with this bitch i can't even get 1% of pittsburgh. fuck pa and double fuck her. stupid cunt.

fun with aKiller

I have this strained and complicated relationship with my Killer. We have a lot of the same interests, the intimate time together is phenomenal, and he is one of the funniest people I have ever met. Yet, this past Tuesday I asked if he had ever lied to me. In my mind, I was more concerned about something having to do with a previous relationship of his. Instead he told me he hadn't ever lied to me but hadn't been completely open with me. Apparently we don't click, we have been spending too much time together, and I am using him as some kind of back up boyfriend.
You can imagine my frustration and heartbreak.
I just want and only need his friendship. I want to know him better, and I can understand how my methods before where probably a bit too forthcoming, me being a Cancer and having a tendency to over-do everything.
Chesapeake is a lonely place. I don't have very many friend's here. There isn't much to do so I am first to jump on the bandwagon for a weekend of being out and trying anything.
This conversation with my Killer has made me realize more about myself and what I need to change as well as what I shouldn't have to apologize for. I am going to miss him so much when I leave in two weeks, I am going to miss all of my few friends here in this nowhere town. I really want to be able to come back to him and still continue a friendship.

60%

of men make up the population of the George Mason University Law School. Only 40% women. When you click on the link labeled diversity, it shows about 5-10 pictures of all older black men. what a narrow view of diversity.

I was thinking about law school and decided against it because of the George Mason website. I don't need to attempt to prove myself to men. In fact I am over it.

Sitting at the bar at Max and Erma's, I was sandwiched inbetween two male co-workers enjoying their company and my cheese fries. It wasn't until we were on our way home when they both did some little secret signal to refer to some girl's ass that I was annoyed. only because i still feel that women can't enjoy the parts of sex and sexual attraction that men can. we have too much responsibility not to wind up in the drugstore or doctor's office when we're late. I personally struggle too often with the pleasure and consequences of sex - where nothing seems to have any kind of guarantee.

f.u.n

So St. Patty's was uneventful.
Really, this whole weekend even though I accomplished a good amount of tasks, it was very uneventful. No one was really worked up or in the mood for anything. Weird.

Last night after coloring, playing with make-up and fighting over whether or not one is too tired to brush one's teeth - I put LittleRed to sleep, got my $25 payment, and walked down Shirley Ave. toward the Naro. I figured that Red Dog was better then noplace to sit and trytoread/wait for 10:30. I got my favorite waitress, a drink, and a drunk Austrian who wanted to give me a tour of Berlin using my guidebook I had happen to be glancing through. After Guy#1 came and sat with me for a whole 20min we had had enough of our cell phones and very casual conversation. I decided to find theKiller over at the Naro. I found him, and a slew of other people who I had planned and not planned on seeing. I am awesome at getting though what I feel is a very uncomfortable social situation, (anyone else could be completely comfortable,) by just telling myself over and over to get over it, whatever, smoke a cigarette, and chill the fuck out. Well, Jesus is Magic wasn't enough to keep me from feeling cramped and anxious sitting amonst friends and otherwise. I had to get out of there and smoke.

I woke up this morning wrapped up intheKiller's arms - listening to his heartbeat rather quickly in his chest, especially for being at rest.

Dead Ballet Dancers.

I was sitting on LaBella's couch drinking a beer as I m known to do, and all the weight of the world came crashing down on the two of us. We came to one conclusion, men suck and we suck more for liking them.
I am consumed by the conflict that comes with sex and realize that the soon I get out of here the better, for everyone. I peeled beer labels and chainsmoked while LaBella gesticulated and we both nodded our heads at each other.

One day closer, which is all you can count on.

The workday was no better with personal files and feelings flying frantically all afternoon. The person ‘gots’ attitude, this talks too much, this person is out to get me. It is the exact same intense feminine environment as in a restaurant but you get a computer and the ability to wear heels. Jealousy, bitchiness, and gossip reign supreme.

The whole time I get a half glance at non-work related matters.

i found out about the split of Trader today and of course that was all theKiller could think about. Mind you with good reason, but all the same he can't really do anything at this very moment. Instead he will have to wait it out and maybe look around but being so young and having experience will allow him to land on his feet. He doesn't have much to worry about or at least he isn't worried about the right things.

I am just sitting watching a moving tale about a dying dancer who has sex for the first time to chickRock.

There is nothing wrong with Love.

I am watching Carlito's way and drinking a Foster's while debating last night's episode of 'Big Love' with Dad and youngest Brother. 

Even though I am enjoying myself I can't help but think that this is not all there is. Doesn't matter where i go or what I am doing. Even when having sex I thing about how it never lasts.  I reiterate that feeling by planning out my schedule for the next three semesters. It is comforting. At least I am pretending to know where I am going.

Work today was work. I blazed through everything I needed to do and then some. The last hour and a half I just fucked around re-organizing files and being frustrated with theKiller.

Since boys like to sit on fences and pick and choose the greener side as often as they like. Why do I worry?

I will tell let myself finish this beer and not worry. After one more I won't care about anything at all really. Just sleep. Sleep and brushing my teeth. Sleep, brushing my teeth, and my future. 


fuck.

This time was 'Nexttime'

The party last night turned sour the moment we drove up to the townhouse. theKiller mentioned something about not knowing it was a do-rag party and that he had forgotten his own. Two drunk thugged out white guys hop into a car and take off - only to have a guest mention that her cell phone was gone. There were a lot of words thrown back and forth that reaked of Heineken and all i wanted to do was watch.
This area is so twisted with red-necks, faux thugs, and vapid idiots. I can't imagine how some people function and don't understand how I could think that I can't.

I want to be like Gregory Crewdson. Travel to a remote American town and take stunning pictures that move hundreds of people. Or I could be a reporter for NPR or the Washington Post. I could travel to different parts of the world in search of the truth, ideally. I coudl cover interested stories like the illegal kite flying in Pakistan.

The rest of the night consisted of getting intensely tanked. It was nicer then it sounds really, I just looked like a fool because of it. Like anyone with too much alcohol I kept looking at everything differently trying to figure it out. The lines on the road, the lights in the night. Everything was so interesting but I couldn't look for too long or else I would be sick as a dog. I also continued to act a fool in front of someone that I feel I continue too dissapoint. I have a feeling that no one is perfect and that every 'relationship' is strange or whatever, but I have never felt more self consious in my life then when I fell out of bed in front of him - drunk as a skunk.

darling day one

At 11:30 this morning I was having the strangest dream about down town Norfolk looking somewhat like New York City. I was so lost and it was dark and cold outside, so with my friend Dawn from work I was running to do find 'him.' I was about to turn the corner onto a very modified Granby St. when I grabbed on to an iron fence and heard my brother say, "Dad wants to talk to you."

I sat up, and asked, "Am I in trouble?," considering he probably heard me come in past 2am this morning and wanted to know where I had been. My brother shakes his head and says, "Come on," and I follow him into the computer room.
There is a conversation about what I am doing tonight and if i can transport my brother to and from a film marathon at the Naro this afternoon into tonight.

At this point, my brother is half was through Munich, Dad is downstairs, and I have started this new project.

I won't be grabbing little Brother from the movies, instead poor Dad will have us trade spots in the car as he drops me off at Killer's and little Brother is whisked off back home.

This evening is supposed to consist of the Killer and I along with his sister heading out to Virginia Beach, where there is some kind of party at some guy's apartment that I met a couple times in the past six months. This is the way of nightlife for under21 in southern Virginia.

Right now I am slowly becoming obsessed with the bloggers from China. with Danwei, Mu Zi Mei , and others. The only problem with this new interest is that I have no ability to speak Chinese, and BabelFish just butchers it. So I am going to spend the next few hours of the gorgeous March afternoon and search for something that will lead me to something else that will get me to the bottom of this new trend.