I wanted to be the one with her boobs out.

I'm not. I'm the hooker, though. And a girl at the bus stop. And a woman at the wash and dry.

Sigh.

Auditions for An Adult Evening With Shel Silverstein were held yesterday and I agreed to step in and read with a couple of the boys who didn't have anyone to read with. Now I'm in three plays. don't get me wrong, I'm stoked that she thought I could do it, I just don't have the confidence in myself to perform in three plays in a show I'm already production manager of, as well as memorizing four monologues for class.

This afternoon I was cast as Sherilee in Buy One, Get One Free, Celia in Bus Stop and Marianne in Wash and Dry. Well, I'm glad someone has confidence in me.

I'm going to break both my legs!

When I grow up...

...I'm going to live in a small, comfortable flat in the south of England. Glastonbury, maybe, or Bristol. I haven't decided yet. I'm going to have a job that pays enough for me to live comfortably in this comfortable little flat, possibly in a pub or a nice bookstore. Somewhere I can converse with regular, familiar faces and still have plenty of opportunities to meet new ones. I'm going to share this little flat with someone I love, be it roommate or lover, and we will be happy.

This person is going to love me back, because I am tired of one-way relationships. I have a history of finding my way into relationships (not necessarily of the romantic variety) with individuals who want something from me that I blindly give without asking for anything in return. Lately, it's been sex. I fall for men who want sex without the 'burden' of a relationship. I just want to find someone who doesn't find me completely useless that I can call my own. Is it so old-fashioned to want a monogamous relationship with someone I care about? Apparently, yes. FML.

Once Upon A Time...

At the risk of sounding like a silly little girl, I will say this: Boys are stupid. They turn girls into mushy, emotional pudding. With crazy sprinkles. In this mushy pudding state I am consistently unsure of where I stand with the object of my affection.

Young, impressionable and insecure teenage girls

Hollywood taught me that sex was this beautiful, perfect thing that happened when a man and a woman fell in love and they lived happily ever after. It was always going to be between two beautiful, perfect people with beautiful, perfect bodies. There were always going to be candles and silk sheets and the whole thing would be beautifully, perfectly choreographed and in slow motion while only the most appropriate song plays in the background. After that there would always be cuddling and vows of everlasting love, and in that moment the world was right and just and wonderful.

I blame Hollywood for my disappointment in the real world. Not that either of the men I have been intimate with have been disappointing in bed themselves, I just mean that it was nothing like I was expecting. There was never any whirlwind romance that led to those moments, and there were certainly no promises to love each other forever after. I know I can't blame Hollywood completely, I do just pick terrible men to have sex with. Luckily there have only been two and I'm going to do my very best to use what I have learned from those experiences to prepare me for next time. If there ever is one.

Just Crazy Enough pt.4

Some days the crazy bubbles and boils inside to the point of overflowing, and it's not a pretty sight when it does.

This morning I was talking to my dad about plans to go to the market yesterday that had been canceled, and he asked a very simple question for which I did not have a satisfactory answer. It's not that he needed anything concrete, he was just curious, but I have been kicking myself all day for being so blind as to not see what I probably should have a while ago.

My history with the opposite sex is a short one, and yet still full of regrets. After the aforementioned conversation with my father this morning it has come to my attention that every man I have been involved with has not been happy to have just me. I wasn't enough for any of them and you know what? That really hurts. I like to think I'm a decent enough person, I do what I can to be kind and considerate and I should have some seriously good karma coming my way. I'm not drop dead gorgeous, but I'm not completely hideous either (I hope). I'd say I'm rather plain looking, but I'm learning to be okay with that. Given the chance, I could be a generous lover, but I seem to only attract men who want me.... and her, her, and her.

It doesn't work that way, sweetie.

To be clear, I'm not saying there is a certain gentleman in my life at the moment who feels the same way as they all have, I'm just saying this revelation has been a painful one that will more than likely affect my choices in the future. Well, someone would have to want me first.

Here we go again

These random bursts of anger/depression need to stop. I'm beginning to think there's something (new) wrong with me.


I woke up real late this morning because I spent the night at Rachel's. Last night was her birthday party, so a few friends gathered at her new apartment for drinks and shenanigans, and as usual it was a lot of fun! When we eventually got up today she made me macaweenie for breakfast, followed by mint chocolate chip ice cream... You can see why I'm struggling with this diet thing.
After Rachel dropped me back home, I changed out of my cute dress from the night before (which I had slept in) and into something a little more appropriate for walking to the store. I only really went to get some of that amazing orange pineapple peach juice I love so much, but ended up in the vitamin aisle again. I hate buying diet pills at the store, I feel like people are judging me as I kneel by the shelves to compare shiny promises of a flatter tummy and a smaller ass, or as I approach the counter with my latest finds. I don't know if I feel worse when I see the woman with her basket full of junk food eye me up like I'm a bitch for rubbing it in that I'm half her size and still unhappy, or the skinny chick who looks at me with disgust because I'm twice her size and could use all the help I can get. Either way I leave the store disgusted with myself. I usually get home wanting to down an entire pint or two of ice cream for comfort because it would make me feel better for a short period of time, but I'd hate myself even more in the long run.
Today I opted for a healthier dietary supplement. No 'miracle' or crazy crash dieting, thanks. This time I picked up a bottle of SlimQuick™ Ultra Fat Burner caplets, because it's a brand designed to address the six main issues women have when trying to lose weight. It was made for women by specialists that understand that women generally have a harder time trying to lose weight, so they came up with these awesome little pills to help a girl out. They also have a great website where I can track my exercises and meals and work toward my goal, as well as give and receive support from other women online! My fingers are actually crossed this time.

Defeat was not an option...

... But apparently no one told him that. Now as my punishment for losing, I have to do whatever he says for three days. THREE DAYS. I don't know what he's going to make me do, but it's going to be interesting. It's not that I don't trust him, of course I do, I just have no idea what is in store for me. It could be terrifying... Or it could be wonderful...
Here's hoping for the latter!


Anyway, after stuffing my face both on and off stage yesterday, apparently I thought it would be a good idea to go to a friend's house and celebrate another friend's birthday with copious amounts of alcohol. At least no one could say I drank on an empty stomach this time, right?
My body did not love me today. After sneaking out this morning in hopes that fresh air and light exercise would help ease the knot in my stomach (it didn't, it only got worse as I walked home), I spent the entire day sprawled across the couch. Food helped a little bit, but not much. I'm still feeling a little off, but I'm about to crawl into bed so hopefully I'll be bright and shiny in the morning! I just hope it's not a bug. I don't think it's a hangover because it doesn't feel like the one I had the last time I drank at this same friend's house... That was an interesting night. Or at least I'm sure it would be if I could remember it.