text message from my little brother:

my political science professor took a non-biased shit underneath the driver's seat of your car so that you don't know about it until you're like 5 minutes from home.

How can I even begin to answer that?

Thursday, Aug 21st, 2008 -- Your key planet Mercury joins lovely Venus today, putting a kinder and gentler spin on your day. But beneath your veneer of charm, passions may be out of control -- even if no one else knows but you. Although you can keep your vulnerability a secret for now, the truth will leak out in the next few days.

Last night at 2:35 AM, Ray sent me this message:
" I hope the day was good to you...your videos are hilarious."

Fuck.

At least he used the right "your".

The night before last I got to thinking about him at work and I went home and cried. Not because I missed him, but because I couldn't believe he'd said all the things he said to me. The nice things. The things that before our split it became increasingly obvious that he didn't mean anymore. I do believe he meant them when he said them. But I remember he had a habit of not really replying to my emails or if he did he would reply two weeks later. I sent him a message once that was like hey, when you don't answer me I feel like you're telling me you don't care about me. No answer. So I was like, cool, he just agreed, like yeah, don't care. After that I was done.

So I am just not going to answer him. I've got serious ponygirl business to take care of and by "ponygirl business" I mean flirting with guys in bands on the internet. Suck it.

Mysterious fluids are dripping out of my car. For some reason, I really hope it's not champagne. I don't even know how it could be.

Going to see Xiu Xiu tonight at the Casbah with Christina and Devin and Adam. Yeah... at least the music's gonna be good. I'm not really looking forward to the rest of it. Think they'll mind if I bring a book?

Dropped a bunch of cash shopping today. Got a couple of really nice things I've been wanting for a while, green striped dress and yellow hooded seed stitch sweater. I'm not "overspending". I'm "stimulating the economy".

Met a couple of foxy dudes at the saloon last night. One of them asked for my number and I told him that I don't have one. Not sure why I did that except for the feeling that I don't think I could take it if he hurt my feelers and hurting my feelers is really easy to do lately. Or maybe it was the idea that it might not be wise to give out one's number to some random dude that one has known for a mere three minutes that was met outside a bar. I just feel really uncomfortable with dudes lately. It feels like in junior high when boys would pretend to flirt with me and then put me down brutally. Not exactly like that, but close. More like when my most serious relationship was with someone who was also in a relationship with someone else who was always going to be more important than me. When was that, like March? How long? Like three years? Yeah. Something like that.

Yeah, this is PMS. I do what I want when I want.

so what I was thinking about yesterday when I got distracted by whatever I ended up writing about was this: perhaps the reason why I like older men is not, as friends and nosy acquaintances have often hypothesized, because I have "daddy issues" but maybe it's because guys of my generation are by and large unspeakably lame. Just a thought that occurred to me on Monday night's ponygirl outing. Yes, I was way too sober for the saloon. But srsly, what is up with people telling me I have daddy issues? They always say it like they can shame me out of it just by pointing it out. Or maybe I am just grouchy. I don't know. I think I have an old soul, and by that I mean a psychic told my dad that my little brother is a really, really super old soul. I'm five years older then him, hence I must have like a way really really super old soul. At least that's my best guess. I'm not a scientist or anything.

Kids these days, man. When Stina and I went to go drink at the playground, there were kids just drinking in the parking lot. What's the point? If the cops came you'd be busted whether you were on the playground or in the parking lot, so you might as well go play. Kids these days don't understand anything. They play guitar hero instead of guitars. 'Nuff said.

Spilled champagne in the trunk of my car last week. Ponygirl venture. It smelled really bad for a day, champagne rotting in the heat, but it went away on its own. Good thing too. The last thing I want to do right now is clean out my trunk.

For all my pissing and moaning I'm so much happier this year than I was last year. What's the difference? I could say it's Ray. I still think about how much he hurt me but at least he's not still doing it. I don't have to wonder why he won't just call me back like a human or let it ruin my birthday if he forgets. But it's more than that. I could say it's making music again, finding my voice in that sense, but that's still (always) such an uncertain thing. Maybe because I'm finally going to real college in September. It's everything. Things aren't perfect but they're so much better than when I came home last year. I was kind of a mess. I wanted to go back in time, I think, and spending a year walking in my own old shoes was more than enough to convince me not to do that again. So many bad decisions. Must move forward, not back.

Went to the saloon last night. Wasn't drunk enough to enjoy the new "ambiance". So many tight pants. Unfortunate mullet. Spectacular stache. Hard to believe how many people came out to party on a monday. In north county. Lots of dirty guys. I like that. Lately I just want to flirt with dudes and then disappear from their lives forever, to be remembered in a wistful, hungover haze. "That girl who said she reads the thesaurus on the crapper, was she real or just a dream?"

Hurt my hand at work. Not sure if I should sue or ask someone to kiss it and make it better.

I'm leaning toward the latter.

My brother is here and it's pissing me off. I'm tired and grouchy and I want to be alone, damn it. He's watching family guy but I want to watch the ten and get drunk. By myself. So I don't have to talk to anyone. Grrr.

Weekends are brutal. I wish someone would rub my back.

I was thinking about Ray on the drive home from work. Whatever, it's fucking past midnight, I can think about whatever. I used to really hold on to his affection. Any little thing he did I would keep that thing, that hug, kiss, word, smile, whatever, I would keep it in my mind and just turn it over and over. I used to sustain myself with that while he hurt me in a seemingly endless variety of ways that he ultimately never understood and it mostly seemed to me like it was cool, normal, whatever. I can't do it anymore. Sometimes I wish that he would at least miss me but I understand why he wouldn't. His whole life is something I can never be a part of and if I was I probably wouldn't want to anymore. It was never his to give, I get it now. I just had to do things the hard way.

Silverballs put his arm around my shoulder and in the back of my mind was the thought, you are about the same size. I could nestle into your shoulder and stay there and everything would be good. But I won't do that either. I need to be better to myself. I need to get something to eat. I haven't had a meal since 1. I ate a spoonful of peanut butter dipped in chocolate chips around 9. I'm too tired to cook. I might just go to sleep. I'm too hungry to sleep. Work was shitty tonight. I just kept telling myself, "if you die in the nightmare you die for real." It really kept me going.

been playing guitar a lot. Trying to get my fingers back to gnarly. Stina said I should put superglue on my fingers but I feel like since I didn't do that the first time when I was 12 there's no reason I should do it now. I don't want to think I was tougher at 12.

Hate to admit it but I'm getting a little sick of summer. I want school to start. I'm finally going to real college! I can't help being excited, chomping at the bit to write some literary analysis.

blah. I have to go visit my dad today which is fun and stuff but the AC in my car don't work when it's actually hot and I really hate driving when it's hot. Maybe if I whine about it he'll fix it for me.

This weekend I: nearly went home with silverballs
dug up my binder full of tabs from when I took guitar lessons in high school
cruised around in a limo sipping champagne and listening to rap
went to a drag show (note: I want to be a drag queen when I grow up)
got a free semi-striptease from 3 very drunk Italian dudes
slept in a room for 3 with 9 other girls
got hung the fuck over
got my shit together
and got my hair did
casually interviewed the dude from Horse Feathers
and reaffirmed my girl crush on Thao.

and the only thing that's missing is more sleep, but who needs that?

Look at that guy, shedding on my black dress.