May 2010
April 2010
thingsmydatereallysaidlastnight:
“I know this is an awkward question, but… do you know what French kissing is?”
“You’re shitting me.”
“You don’t know either?”
I’m not sure why I do this to myself, but I perform a ritual, self-induced, depression every once in a while that dominates my emotions (depending on how self-deprecating I am) for the next couple of hours or days. I can’t pin-point exactly what triggers this reflex to make myself miserable, but it happens just the same. It’s no one’s fault, and nothing’s to blame. Sometimes I just feel like feeling like crap. I think it’s healthy for me. I mentally abuse myself, thinking of all the times I ever wronged someone, forgot something or ate that last piece of cake because I wanted it. When I make myself feel like Satan incarnate, I try that much harder to be a better person. Maybe that’s why I do it.
Remembering why and how I messed up in the past is helping me to remember how to make things right again. So if you encounter me in the next couple of days and you hear me say things like “I hate my life”, “Why does Paris Hilton still get attention?” and “I wish I were dead”, don’t worry. I’m just performing some routine maintenance on my innards.
That sounds disgusting.
Roommate interventions. It’s happened twice in this past week and it just kind of made me realize that living on your own with other people is drastically different than living with your own family. I was actually terrified when I first moved here. I didn’t know how to act around my roommates and…
Becca. I love you. And you are what completed our roommate family. Thank you for helping second semester be bearable.
Love, Lydia