kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You've lost that lovin' feeling I am not one to easily admit to my mistakes. But I have to. No, I am not talking about the french fries I inhaled last night (ugh) but that obviously was a mistake as well. I have a food hangover. People doubt that these exist, but trust me, they do. I would probably feel better if I had downed five martinis and gone to bed without drinking any water. But I digress�.. Saw Jon last night. The magic is already gone. In fact, it lasted exactly one night. When I saw him and got back together I was feeling the magic. Now I am only feeling irritated. First, why must a man YELL at the TV during sporting events (baseball and hockey). I don't understand. I get excited over the Academy Awards, or any award show. And I will admit that I do talk to the TV (Like what the hell was that fluffy lavendar meringue dress Tyra Banks was wearing?!!? Was she going to a prom after the awards show? And what about that gold disaster on Nichole Kidman? And how fabulous did Ashley Judd look - as always). But I DO NOT yell. It is the equivalent of fingernails on the blackboard. Second, why does Jon feel it is neccesary to give me dietary advice. I know he is only trying to help. When I complain about the size of my ass or some such thing, he feels the need to fix it. But honestly, like I don't KNOW already everything he is telling me. Name a food, I will tell you the calorie content. Please. I only want to complain and I don't want to hear about how I should eat five small meals a day or some such shit which I know already. Oh gee, is starving all day and then pigging out on french fries unhealthy? Gosh - I had NO IDEA. Plus the fact that he mentioned what a BIG APPETITE I had, (bastard) mentioning how I inhaled that greek salad the other day. Third, I fell asleep last night and he woke me up because he was running out to McDonald's for 8 - count em, 8!!!!!!! hamburgers. At midnight. That just grosses me out, I am sorry. Call me food obsessed, but how can I be accused of having a big appetite after this? Then, this morning he complains about his gluttony like a - well like a girl, like me, it is aggravating. The magic is gone, I don't think we even kissed last night. I was busy obsessivley exercising on his floor until I fell asleep, he was the night owl making runs to McD's. I woke up this morning thinking I had dreamed the whole thing. But unfortunatley, I had not. How do I get out of this now? With all my stuff at his house? And do I really want out, or am I just being petty? If I hear him complain about the state of his life one more time I will scream. That is what it comes down to. His constant angst. I am certainly not angst free, but comparativley speaking, I am the happiest person on earth (which is a scary thought). And I have always thought of myself as rather passive, but now I realize I am not. If something is bad in my life, I seek to change it. Jon simply talks about how he has to change it yet does nothing! It makes me want scream. It makes me wonder if I will be paying for dinner and drinks with him for the rest of my days. Snaggle-tooth called Brian and whined about what a jerk he was, wondering if he had blown his chances with me (oh please, just look at the Jon fiasco - I am VERY FORGIVING). Snark. Christy is coming to visit on Sunday to help me do responsible things - like buy new sheets. Last night with the girls was fun. Other than the french fry disaster, which I refuse to think about. We were loud and obnoxious, and Candace got palm diddled by the bartender (if you don't know what this means than too bad). Did you know that when a pig orgasms it lasts a half hour?
08:08:29 - 2000-04-14 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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