Nice Girls Finish Last
Hey, how are you guys?
Me, I’ve been better. But I suppose I’ve been worse, too.
So, not surprisingly, considering my track record, the thing with the boy has blown up in my face. Why is it that after this happens to you once, it’s more likely to happen again? I don’t know if that’s actually true, but it feels like it.
Yes, Kristen, we have proof here once again that, in the wise words of Carrie Bradshaw, men truly are bullshit.
The details are not important. Long story short, he ripped the beating heart out of my chest and took a big, bloody bite out of it right in front of my face.
You know, this sucks. Why does this keep happening to me? I don’t deserve to be treated this way. I always love too much and too easily. In all honesty I’m surprised I had any heart left for him to steal, considering how many times this has happened to me before. I hope he chokes on it.
I was willing to do anything for this person. I was willing to sacrifice so much more him. I was willing to change my entire concept of the universe. I even drove over a thousand miles so that we could talk face to face. And he just couldn’t give me anything, nothing at all. Now, all I want to give him is a black eye and a sore crotch from punching him in the face and kneeing him in the nuts.
Thinking back on it, I don’t know if I got anything at all positive out of this experience. It was really great at the time...really, really great. But that’s the problem. Now all I have are memories about what has been and regrets about what could have been. And I’m all alone again. Again. The only thing this has left me with is a hole in my heart and yet more baggage for the next poor hapless soul who comes along and decides to hurt me some more. I wonder if there will ever come a point when I simply am incapable of trusting a man...
Personally, I think he’s making a mistake. I think that he is dumb and has forgotten how good it was. I think he’s too busy with school and work and all that stuff and is filling his head with other things and doesn’t remember what it felt like when we were together. Course, the opposite could be true. That I just have way too much free time and can’t do anything besides fantasize about things that will never, ever happen. I’m forever hopeful that things will turn out right for me in the end. But maybe they won’t.
Anyway, I have had a difficult past month. But I am starting to feel better. The space that he left in my chest after ripping out my heart has filled in with molten lava, which has since hardened into a solid black magma rock, impenetrable to man or beast. In a way, I don’t want to feel better. I want to continue this pity party for just a while longer. But I can’t help it. I am forever a Pollyanna. It’s just not bothering me as much as it did. Hopefully I am starting to forget. I wish I could have the memory of him entirely erased, like in that movie The Eternal Sunshine of the Thoughtless Mind.
I don’t understand why this keeps happening to me. Do I just have the word “Sap” written across my forehead? Can people look at me and tell I’m going to believe whatever they say? Do they look at me and think, “Hey, this looks like the type of girl who’s going to treat me right, make me feel good, and that I can fully take advantage of and then leave”? Because it SURE SEEMS LIKE IT.
I never did anything wrong in this relationship, I really, really didn’t. But it just doesn’t matter. I’m just not good enough I guess. I don’t know if I’m ever going to be good enough for anyone…
I am not the type of girl that people write songs about.
But enough if is enough. You guys don’t want to hear about this. Nobody does. I’ve just go to suck it up and move on. Fuck him anyway.
But besides this, life at the Evergreen continues. My job itself is insanely easy, and I have a lot of free time at work, which is kind of annoying, but kind of good, too. Recently it has been very good because I’ve been able to work on my grad school applications while at work. And I’m not sure I would have had the motivation to do it in my spare time. I’ve turned in my UCSC and Davis apps, and finishing up the Berkeley one. I haven’t been that gung-ho about the Berkeley one because I am operating under the assumption that I’m not going to get in. Perhaps that is not the right attitude to have, but whatever. I think UCSC is my first choice anyway. Their mascot is the slug.
I have a lot of free time. I’ve been reading, knitting, and zoning out mostly. Also watching movies with my fellow captives, and smoking the occasional bowl. I need to stock up on more books or else it’s going to be a long, long winter.
Last weekend we had this big Harvest Meltdown hippie music festival here at the lodge. It was actually really kick-ass. These three bands played. The headliner was Hot Buttered Rum, who apparently are pretty famous in the bluegrass hippie circuit. Then there was Blue Turtle Seduction, which was also kind of bluegrass but more jazzy. They did a folk version of R. Kelly’s Ignition that was hilarious. The third act was a guy named Brett Dennon, who was actually quite good in a Jack Johnson sort of way, though when I first met him I thought he was a very masculine and tall female. Oops.
The festival was both Friday and Saturday, and we had about 500 people here, while our usual maximum capacity is more like 200. But somehow it all worked out. Saturday night was a costume party, and almost everyone had some sort of wild get-up, including the staff. I went as a 70’s prom queen. I wore this mint green polyester dress with a big fake rhinestone brooch in the front and huge fan sleeves, and my friends got me a tiara to wear too. Some of my favorite costumes were Jill the Viking, John the bartender dressed up as a French maid, and Bobby as my 70’s date. He wore a big fro wig, crazy glasses, and tight brown Wranglers, and he walked around (or should I say strutted his stuff) all night with a pick in one hand and a rum and coke in the other laughing this weird high pitched laugh that he had affected for the event. I think now he’s planning to actually grow his hair out like that. The costume inspired him apparently.
Then yesterday was my birthday. The big 2-5. Quarter of a century. I’m old! Didn’t really do a whole lot for it. I got a Barbie birthday card that most everybody signed, so that was kind of cool. And a bunch of us went bowling at the casino in Sonora. Somehow it seems fitting that I would do the same activity on my 25th birthday that I did on my ninth. The bowling was pretty fun, and no doubt we will be going again.
Besides these few brief moments of excitement, life has been pretty much continuing on its normal path. It’s started getting colder here, and it’s going to start snowing pretty soon. I am not looking forward to it. I’m afraid we’re going to get totally stranded up here. Or at least that I will feel like it, like I can’t get out even if I need to. Images of The Shining come to mind.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
I know I need to email some of you, and I’m going to do that here, very very soon I promise.
I hope this email doesn’t come across as too negative. But sometimes, you just need to bitch. I don’t want to turn jaded though. I really don’t. And I don’t think I have. Yet.
Me, I’ve been better. But I suppose I’ve been worse, too.
So, not surprisingly, considering my track record, the thing with the boy has blown up in my face. Why is it that after this happens to you once, it’s more likely to happen again? I don’t know if that’s actually true, but it feels like it.
Yes, Kristen, we have proof here once again that, in the wise words of Carrie Bradshaw, men truly are bullshit.
The details are not important. Long story short, he ripped the beating heart out of my chest and took a big, bloody bite out of it right in front of my face.
You know, this sucks. Why does this keep happening to me? I don’t deserve to be treated this way. I always love too much and too easily. In all honesty I’m surprised I had any heart left for him to steal, considering how many times this has happened to me before. I hope he chokes on it.
I was willing to do anything for this person. I was willing to sacrifice so much more him. I was willing to change my entire concept of the universe. I even drove over a thousand miles so that we could talk face to face. And he just couldn’t give me anything, nothing at all. Now, all I want to give him is a black eye and a sore crotch from punching him in the face and kneeing him in the nuts.
Thinking back on it, I don’t know if I got anything at all positive out of this experience. It was really great at the time...really, really great. But that’s the problem. Now all I have are memories about what has been and regrets about what could have been. And I’m all alone again. Again. The only thing this has left me with is a hole in my heart and yet more baggage for the next poor hapless soul who comes along and decides to hurt me some more. I wonder if there will ever come a point when I simply am incapable of trusting a man...
Personally, I think he’s making a mistake. I think that he is dumb and has forgotten how good it was. I think he’s too busy with school and work and all that stuff and is filling his head with other things and doesn’t remember what it felt like when we were together. Course, the opposite could be true. That I just have way too much free time and can’t do anything besides fantasize about things that will never, ever happen. I’m forever hopeful that things will turn out right for me in the end. But maybe they won’t.
Anyway, I have had a difficult past month. But I am starting to feel better. The space that he left in my chest after ripping out my heart has filled in with molten lava, which has since hardened into a solid black magma rock, impenetrable to man or beast. In a way, I don’t want to feel better. I want to continue this pity party for just a while longer. But I can’t help it. I am forever a Pollyanna. It’s just not bothering me as much as it did. Hopefully I am starting to forget. I wish I could have the memory of him entirely erased, like in that movie The Eternal Sunshine of the Thoughtless Mind.
I don’t understand why this keeps happening to me. Do I just have the word “Sap” written across my forehead? Can people look at me and tell I’m going to believe whatever they say? Do they look at me and think, “Hey, this looks like the type of girl who’s going to treat me right, make me feel good, and that I can fully take advantage of and then leave”? Because it SURE SEEMS LIKE IT.
I never did anything wrong in this relationship, I really, really didn’t. But it just doesn’t matter. I’m just not good enough I guess. I don’t know if I’m ever going to be good enough for anyone…
I am not the type of girl that people write songs about.
But enough if is enough. You guys don’t want to hear about this. Nobody does. I’ve just go to suck it up and move on. Fuck him anyway.
But besides this, life at the Evergreen continues. My job itself is insanely easy, and I have a lot of free time at work, which is kind of annoying, but kind of good, too. Recently it has been very good because I’ve been able to work on my grad school applications while at work. And I’m not sure I would have had the motivation to do it in my spare time. I’ve turned in my UCSC and Davis apps, and finishing up the Berkeley one. I haven’t been that gung-ho about the Berkeley one because I am operating under the assumption that I’m not going to get in. Perhaps that is not the right attitude to have, but whatever. I think UCSC is my first choice anyway. Their mascot is the slug.
I have a lot of free time. I’ve been reading, knitting, and zoning out mostly. Also watching movies with my fellow captives, and smoking the occasional bowl. I need to stock up on more books or else it’s going to be a long, long winter.
Last weekend we had this big Harvest Meltdown hippie music festival here at the lodge. It was actually really kick-ass. These three bands played. The headliner was Hot Buttered Rum, who apparently are pretty famous in the bluegrass hippie circuit. Then there was Blue Turtle Seduction, which was also kind of bluegrass but more jazzy. They did a folk version of R. Kelly’s Ignition that was hilarious. The third act was a guy named Brett Dennon, who was actually quite good in a Jack Johnson sort of way, though when I first met him I thought he was a very masculine and tall female. Oops.
The festival was both Friday and Saturday, and we had about 500 people here, while our usual maximum capacity is more like 200. But somehow it all worked out. Saturday night was a costume party, and almost everyone had some sort of wild get-up, including the staff. I went as a 70’s prom queen. I wore this mint green polyester dress with a big fake rhinestone brooch in the front and huge fan sleeves, and my friends got me a tiara to wear too. Some of my favorite costumes were Jill the Viking, John the bartender dressed up as a French maid, and Bobby as my 70’s date. He wore a big fro wig, crazy glasses, and tight brown Wranglers, and he walked around (or should I say strutted his stuff) all night with a pick in one hand and a rum and coke in the other laughing this weird high pitched laugh that he had affected for the event. I think now he’s planning to actually grow his hair out like that. The costume inspired him apparently.
Then yesterday was my birthday. The big 2-5. Quarter of a century. I’m old! Didn’t really do a whole lot for it. I got a Barbie birthday card that most everybody signed, so that was kind of cool. And a bunch of us went bowling at the casino in Sonora. Somehow it seems fitting that I would do the same activity on my 25th birthday that I did on my ninth. The bowling was pretty fun, and no doubt we will be going again.
Besides these few brief moments of excitement, life has been pretty much continuing on its normal path. It’s started getting colder here, and it’s going to start snowing pretty soon. I am not looking forward to it. I’m afraid we’re going to get totally stranded up here. Or at least that I will feel like it, like I can’t get out even if I need to. Images of The Shining come to mind.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
I know I need to email some of you, and I’m going to do that here, very very soon I promise.
I hope this email doesn’t come across as too negative. But sometimes, you just need to bitch. I don’t want to turn jaded though. I really don’t. And I don’t think I have. Yet.
posted by Chloe at 5:38 PM
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