i have to lock this.
and i can't say why.
and i don't want to.
...lock it. i want to say why.
i'm going to wait a few days and see if it all blows over.
this stupid thing has gotten me in trouble more times than i'd like to admit, but it's a lot cheaper than therapy. it's a practice in noncensorship and it's become a lesson in NOT GIVING A FUCK WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK and what they may do as a reaction to what i think. URG. it's my life, people, slightly exagerrated. sometimes i live vicariously through this. it doesn't have to affect you.
so i guess i'll just say that anyone reading this to find out information about a certain person or certain people who are not me ... go away. let people live their lives, and don't john ashcroft (hah) your way into this situation. it no longer has anything to do with you.
that doesn't make any sense at all.
i guess i'm a little more infamous than i thought.
we had liz over for dinner last night and watched UHF while dining on chocolate chip pancakes and pesto linguine (we are, after all, all that is high class). we picked adam up from work and headed over to their place to get our weekly dose of cable.
if jon stewart were any sexier, he would be ... just ... way too sexy. cough.
and i almost died laughing watching chapelle's show.
i miss cable. :(
i stayed up to watch jimmy kimmel live because i am extra lame and just had to see rooney play. i am so completely smitten.
so i got to bed extra late last night (after a nice, heavy conversation with aaron, which began with him whimpering, "we haven't had sex in awhile," to which i replied, "if your work schedule weren't so shitty..." to which he replied, "i'd do anything for you," to which i replied, "shut up, i'm tired.")
(i mean, it's practically fiction. go away.)
the royal tenenbaums was on liz and adam's tv and, fucking of course, my thoughts immediately go to one of suzy's last posts on the ash: "To quote Richie Tenenbaum, 'Tomorrow I am going to kill myself.'" if only we could all have that clarity, that conviction.
so anyway, today was all set to be superbly shitty until i received this email from the aforementioned derrick hart:
//so you and aaron broke up. i would've like to have been there when you did so i could have my way with ya. you are a very sexy gal, by the way and aaron's a fool for doing what he did.//
the feminist in me cries, "i am not just walking sex!" the girlie girl in me screams, "woo hoo, i'm hot!" girliegirl: 1. feminist: 0.
speaking of derricks who could get me in trouble, aaron asked who called after you did and i said it was the derrick i met at the party and he got rawther pissy. "why does he have your phone number?" asks he. "we decided to be friends. can't i have a friend?" sez i. "not if it's a boy!" exclaims he. "fuck you!" laughs i. "do whatever you want, don't expect me to like it," pouts he. relationships are great.
anyway, if this is locked within the next few days, email me for a password.