My mom dressed me up as Boy George for Halloween one year. She put all sorts of weirdo eye shadow on me, dressed me in some sloppy suit attire with a tie, and bought a black, plastic, shiney hat and glued various colored yarn in the brim. Is this enough to blame my mom for all the wrong in my life? It's not I know. I just hate taking the blame all the time.
A and I are officially done. I'm really sad. But was really good about not texting, emailing or calling him during my Wed-Fri drinking binges. I miss him though. I really miss him when I am at work though for my afternoon...sessions. Eh. Its fine, gimme one more week and I will forget his gorgeous acne-stained face. (Really, why do I love that??? That is a whole other can of worms...)
I replaced my texting obsession with Jonathan. (Z bores me too much. He is all into law school and staying home frosting his tips.) Jonathan is a fucking meathead and I love it; he is so easy to mess with. He is so Johnny Clubguy circa 1999. This idiot calls me on Sunday morning at 9am (who the fuck calls a broad they just met a couple days before at 9am on a Sunday?!?!) rolling his balls off. I am 25 years old; 2000 called, they want their drug, hairstyle, mentality, and glow sticks back. Who knew people still actually felt the effectasy??!! Not this lady. Does that make me old? I think it makes me mature. ;)
How do I manage to have no decent prospects right now? Not to mention the fact that the guys I have been meeting lately just get suckier (frosted tips) and suckier (Club dork). Ill take the blame and hold on to the hope that summer will bring me a tan, a better attitude, and some decent guys.
I really wish I could blame the Boy George costume on this one.
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