1:09 PM - Saturday, Oct. 23, 2004
you can all just kiss off into the air...
Okay. Wichita is warped. How do I figure this? Last night I went out to eat dinner with my old college roomie Carrie at Carlos O'Kelley's. While we're sitting there enjoying our food, Carrie starts in on how she's never going to get married or find the right guy. She proceeds to go into detail how all of her other friends tell her that it will happen when she least expects it, etc. etc. etc. I tell her, "well, timing is everything." But the point of this is, here I am struggling with my parents who insist I find a man before "it's too late," and now I'm listening to my friend who is a few months younger than me go on about how she's never going to find her soulmate and she'll die single and unhappy.
Maybe there's something wrong with me. Obviously I seem to be the only one in this city (whose my age) that doesn't care whether or not I find somebody to settle down with and marry. I mean, I watch people like Erin and how they flirt with the men that surround them. She and Carrie both talk about how good looking a certain guy is, how they wouldn't mind climbing into bed with that man, etc. etc. etc. And here I am. I look at the men. I don't think about sex. I don't think about how attractive he is. I don't spend my time flirting with every Tom, Dick and Harry that comes across my path. Come to think of it, I don't flirt with anyone. I used too. I think. Back in high school and some of my years in college, I'm pretty sure I did. But anymore, it doesn't feel right. It's not me. It seems so bogus and fake to sit around smiling and batting your eyes at a man, especially one who wouldn't understand you anyhow. Even Cory's mentioned in past conversations how he'll find a woman attractive and think about how he'd like to take her to bed, or how he'll flirt with them just because that seems the natural thing to do.
Okay. It's settled. Wichita isn't warped. I am. There is definitely something 100% wrong with me.
Yesterday, I called Cory up and left a message on his voice mail. It was right after I went through the frustrating process of dealing with the bitch about the whole newspaper thing. I even cussed in the message, something I rarely ever do. Now, I figure... if a good friend of mine left me a frustrated message on my voice mail full of cuss words that I know this person normally doesn't use, I'd call them back because they most likely need to vent to me or something. However, it is now Saturday. It's 24 hours later, and I still haven't heard a peep from the man. Granted, I understand people get caught up in things they have to do and can't find the time to telephone somebody right away. Had I not needed an ear to hear me rant and rave so badly, I wouldn't be taking offense to this; but since I actually needed somebody, and I picked him to be the somebody I turned too, it really pisses me off and depresses me that the one person I relied on to hear me out can't even call to ask, "is everything okay?"
You know what? Forget it. I'm being immature about the whole thing. If he were to call me up today and ask me if everything's okay or how I'm doing... which I highly doubt at the moment will truly happen... I'll just say, "everything's fine." I tend to do that. I close people off when there's obviously something very wrong. I hate to cry in front of people. I hate to cry to people. I hate to show my emotions. Especially to people I consider my friends.
I must be emotionally hormonal right now even though it's not even close to that time of the month. And the really sad thing is, I haven't written a poem in almost a year. And that REALLY bothers the hell out of me.
As in the words of Insane Clown Posse:
Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck us.
