Fifteen Minute Freewrite

Music used to be an inspiration to me, but now it is locking me up.  The sounds keep me from expressing myself artistically, because I am too busy thinking about the pleasure to create my own pieces of art.  I need to open my eyes and remove the headphones.  I need to look out the window.  What do I see right now?

I see a closed market with a worker walking to the dumpster.  I see people walking down the sidewalk, bags in hand.  They probably took the train into the city.  They’re probably going home to their husbands and wives.

Today I was driving down the street to find a man in a wheelchair just sitting in the middle of the road.  Just sitting there.  I went around him.  Everyone feels like they own this town.  The kids, they’re bad.  The vandalism is becoming a problem.  Graffiti, broken windows, cop sirens.  This place is rapidly turning into a disgrace and I’m watching patiently, waiting for the moment when North Philly completely infiltrates my neighborhood.

The air smells so good lately though, I can sense my favorite season floating in the air.  I wake up and make coffee just so I can dilute it with my homemade pumpkin creamer.  The sounds of the cars, hearing the train as it passes by, watching men in business suits walking down the sidewalk- that’s my morning.  I feel so at ease here.  I feel like I belong here, like I am a puzzle piece that belongs exactly where I am located.

I enjoy the darkness of my apartment as well as the walk from here to the pharmacy.  I keep my head pointed at the sidewalk as I walk, because I don’t want to make friends with my neighbors.  I don’t know how I feel about my neighbors.  I don’t want them to feel any particular way about me.  I prefer that they never really realize that I exist in the first place.  I just want to be left alone.  I just want to live here by myself.

My Lifestyle.

After receiving an email from my ex's mother in which she referred to my life as a "lifestyle," I needed to vent.

It freaks me out when people refer to my LIFE as a "lifeSTYLE."  That's such an outdated term.  I just am the way that I am, just like you are the way that you are.

I was sitting next to my coworker talking about gay marriage (he knows about me- I came out on a post it note that said "surprise I'm gay" with a smiley face).  He had such an "us" versus "them" mentality when he was talking about marriage.  I am not THEM.  I am a living breathing human and I'm no different from anyone else.

It amazes me how divided some people think "we" are.  We're just effin humans.  That's it.  Just humans living the life that makes us who we are.

I have trans friends and I've seen a lot of transphobia in my cis friends who have been sheltered and can't really understand anything other than a heteronormative barefoot and pregnant mentality.

When people refer to my life as a lifeSTYLE, I can't help but think of my trans friends and how rough life is for them.  They are just people.  It is not a lifestyle.  Being trans doesn't define them- being a good person, that's what defines them.  Ha, "them." Being a good person should be what defines EVERYONE.

I'm so effin sick of this "us" versus "them" mentality.

I know this one transboy in particular- he is adorable, he is smart, he is a HE.  Hearing people jokingly say "it" or focus on the fact that he was born a girl is absolutely frustrating to me.  Because when I look at him, I just see a cute boy with an even cuter personality. Yes, deep in the caves of my Nicolebrain, I have the fact that he is trans sitting on a shelf somewhere- BUT that's the way it should be... put my "lifestyle" as you would like to call it on a shelf in your brain somewhere, forget about it, and just look at me for what I really am.  A silly girl with an even sillier personality.

THEN, maybe THEN the whole marriage thing won't seem to be such a big deal to you.  We're all just PEOPLE.

I'm so sick of talking about "being gay."  It shouldn't even need to be a discussion.  Imagine having to talk about "being a brunette" all of the time and defending your brunette-ness.  Imagine having to hold up a post it note that says "surprise I'm brunette" with a smiley face.  THAT is how fucking ridiculous this all feels to me.

When I came out to my coworker he said that he felt happy that I "felt comfortable enough" to tell him that.  In the back of my head I was thinking "um it's not a big deal, don't feel special."  I only felt the need to tell him because our current discussion was gay marriage.  It's not like it's some big secret that I was waiting to tell.  It was just relevant to tell him at the time.

You know, like how your brunette hair would be a relevant topic discussion at a hair salon.

Freewriting with tears

I feel like rambling my head off.  So I'm going to do a ten minute freewrite.  Starting now.

It is now 6:33pm and I just got done drinking an ice cold glass of water.  I hear the air pouring from the fan in the other room.  My desk is covered in water from the sweat bubbles on my glass, and I just took an acidophilus pill to try to counteract my acid reflux.  It was a very rough day at work today, but I survived as I survive everything else.  I had plenty of cases to withdraw, hearings to continue, judgments to vacate, agreements to fax, letters to draft: but the smiles from the attorneys that I assisted made me happy about my hard work.  On my lunch break I sat in my car in the hot summer air looking at the building that I work in.  My shoes were off, I was squinting because the white sky was so bright.  I felt like my break was too long.  I had so much to do so I honestly considered cutting my thirty minute vacation in half.  I am eagerly awaiting the falltime at this point.   I've been dreaming of pumpkin lattes- pumpkin everything, really.  I love the way the macadam looks blacker in the fall.  The leaves pitter patter, the scarf feels soft yet prickly against my pale neck.  I miss it so much.  I always feel like I'm at home when it's the falltime.  In the summer, I feel like an abandoned puppy or something.  Like I'm lost and no one is looking for me.  In the fall, in reality I'm just as lost as I am in the summer, but for some reason the warmth of my falltime jacket makes me feel like someone has got my back.  When really, I know that no one really has my back.  I'm pretty alone in the world.  It's the way it turned out, I don't know.  Will it always be that way?  Ask my mother, my father.  Ask anyone.  They'll all tell you "no" but I definitely know that if it will always be that way: at least I'm trained to deal with it now.  Holidays are vacant, my mailbox is always empty.  No one visits.  No one calls.  I'm lucky for the few close friends that I have but when it comes down to it, they won't always be there.  I know they won't.  We all have lives.  And it's sad because they have people that will always be there, families that are tight and will always be there with an arm around them.  Me, on the other hand, that's not the case.  It's been this way for years and as I said, at least I'm trained.  I can live on my own.  When I have big medical bills falling on my doorstep, I can handle it.  When I need to get a second job, I get a fucking second job.  I'm very self sufficient.  But I won't always be... I often wonder what it will be like when I'm a lonely little old lady and even more alone than I am right now.  Will I die unhappy?  Or will I be okay, because I've been trained to accept things for the way that they are?  Will I fill in the void with poetry and music, art and falling leaves?  I probably will.  I've always been one to cherish my loneliness just as much as I cherish the few times where I have someone holding my hand.  But it makes me cry, you know, if I think about it too hard.  I don't want to die alone.

All right.  Got that out of my system.

The gays and German whole beans

I am really confused.  That was so weird.  I don't know, I was suffering from cabin fever due to my recent oral surgery and therefore I made a billion plans for this weekend to get my ass out of this effin apartment.  And one of those plans, randomly enough, was inviting my parents to New Hope.  If you didn't know, New Hope is pretty gay.

Also, if you didn't know, I haven't hung out with my parents like that in years.  Years.

My dad said no.  I called him up and begged him because of my cabin fever.  Then he said maybe. Then he said okay.  And then I called him the night before and he canceled.  And then I woke up this morning and begged him.  He said maybe and then he said fine.  This was proceeded by a long session of bitching on his part.  And then two hours later we were surrounded by rainbow flags and penis-shaped pencil toppers.

My dad absolutely loved it.  Although I don't know if the "gay factor" really clicked for my parents.  I think they might have been oblivious to the cute lesbian couples holding hands and HRC stickers stuck on store windows.  Really, my parents are that oblivious.

Regardless, it was fun.  And my dad tries so hard to understand me.  He pointed to a candle that said "100% vegan" and said, "there you go Nikki" and I smiled. I walked them into hippy stores and had some gay frozen yogurt with them.  I rubbed Buddha statue bellies around my super Christian mother and looked through yoga books while my dad looked at antiques.

It was weird because my parents don't know who I am, and today they got a tiny peek into the secret life of Nicole.  Like I said, I haven't really hung out with my parents in years.  I truly don't remember the last time.  I usually just go to my grandmother's house and see them for an hour or two once every couple of months.  This was so bizarre.

I almost accidentally kept being a lesbian.  (lmfao, that sounds ridiculous, let me explain).  I'm used to just checking out girls and whatever and not really worrying about it.  But being around my parents, I try to stay pretty neutral.  Well, I'm not used to hanging out with them for that long of a time and there were too many pretty girls in New Hope.  And I kid you not.. I kept having tiny awkward seconds with my father where we were checking out the same girl at the same time.

There was this stunningly beautiful girl and she was wearing these pretty heels and my mom goes, "Did you see those pretty heels?" and I swear to you, I gave the gayest reaction I've ever given around my mother and it was totally by accident.  I literally had a mini-panic attack and tried to cover it up.  My dad flinched.

Then again, I could just be crazy because as I said, my parents are very oblivious.  I'm probably just being over sensitive to their reactions because like I said, they never get to see the real Nicole.

And this is the weirdest part of all:  I got a big hug from each of them at the end of our hang out session and ... invited them to the beach.  Yes, I invited them to the beach.  I haven't traveled that far with my parents in at least seven years.

Insane.  Oh, and my mom even got me a gift!  She bought me German coffee beans.  I haven't received a physical gift from my parents in a very long time.  Yes, they've helped me out financially because I'm struggling to make ends meet with my three student loans and a car loan.  But an actual physical gift!  That means so much to me.  To me, that basically means: "Hey, I'm learning about you and I know you're a coffee snob so here ya go. Coffee.

That was so weird.  Wish me luck on the shore adventure.  I really want my parents to understand me.

Things are the way they are

My life got really confusing really fast.  And I'm happy, I'm very happy.  My social life has been great. I've been mostly on good terms with my parents.  "Good" meaning that I call them on my way home from work Monday-Friday to see how they're doing.

My job's going great.  The director of operations thanked me for my hard work and told me that I'm doing a great job, which made me feel appreciated.

I just feel like I'm floating though.  "Floating" is the best word I can think of.  And there is something that triggered it.  I work my ass off for one reason:  To meet my goal of paying off all of my loans within the next five years.  I had nearly enough saved up to pay off my car loan this year.

And then I had a bit of a medical emergency.  A cyst was found in my mouth during a CT scan and I had to get a tooth removed.  Nearly $4,000 later and I feel unsafe.  I would not be able to afford another emergency like that without living on ramen noodles and tap water.

Everything was planned out perfectly before this happened.  I could have paid off one of my four loans and moved closer to center city like I initially wanted to.  But now I don't know if I can take the risk of another move with such a small financial safety net.

Life is hard; but I'm lucky.  I was thinking about it today.  I have a good job considering the economy.  I live on my own.  I make my own decisions.  I have my bachelor's degree.  I got a nice brand new shiny vehicle.  I have the best friends a girl could ever ask for.

It's not me, it's the state of the economy that makes my accomplishments seem so much smaller than they are.  Everyone in my age group is struggling and I should be thankful that I can live the way that I do, you know?  Yeah, money is tight.  But I can go out for a drink now and then, buy a subscription to Suicide Girls, and go to Cold Stone for blueberry pomegranate frozen yogurt covered in crushed graham cracker every couple of weeks.

I know some people who are very lucky in life.  People who got amazing paying jobs right out of college.  But that's rare anymore, so I need to stop being so distraught over the fact that I'm not one of them.  If a teaching job was available to me right after college, I probably would have taken it and I'd probably be making $10k more than what I'm making now.

But it wasn't.  And it's not my fault.  And I did the best that I could and I'm making enough to get by on my own.

But it particularly sucks when you blow $4,000 on a medical emergency.  It is what it is.  Or, in my dad's words, "at some point in life, Nikki, you gotta realize that, you know, things are the way they are and there is nothing you can do about it."

I can't change things.  And I should really, if anything, be thankful that I had the $4,000 laying around.  I sue people all day at work who are in debt, probably for similar reasons.  And I should be thankful that some paralegal in Philly isn't filing a lawsuit against me right now.

Sunny days

I don't even know where to begin.  This is going to be horribly written; I can sense it.  I mean, I just used a fucking semi-colon.  A lot has changed and I'm happy with all of the changes.  I am going to ramble like there is no tomorrow.

Keith has officially stepped down from friend status and Kyle is my new best friend.  And Keely loves him so much.  The first time all three of us hung out together, we crashed a party and had our half-eaten food taken away from us by the bar staff.  We walked the streets topless.  I danced in my underwear in a thunderstorm while being sprayed down with a garden hose.  Keely and Kyle kissed in the rain.  We had a three-way bed snuggle.  And Keely got so drunk that she puked in her tub and completely forgot everything that happened.  Mind you, Keely's dad was visiting during all of this and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm insane now.

We offered him shots.

Keely and I have a strong friendship again.  I went to her house the other day to have "girly cocktails" which actually turned into beer, grilling, and a trip to a hardware store. Not shocked at all.  I heart that crazy queer girl to pieces.

Speaking of that crazy queer girl, she made an impromptu visit to my apartment the other day and forced me to look at pictures of erections for a good hour.  I was like "this is not happening right now."  And then we watched drag queens for a good twenty minutes, which I was totally okay with.  AND THEN I showed her some hot naked girls and she left.

What a terrible lesbian.  But apparently that's the thing now.  I hung out with my ex girlfriend who is a gold star lesbian and we discussed penises for about an hour.

My social life has been really looking up.  I have so many wonderful friends in my life and I love them all with every piece of my heart.  This weekend I was going to go visit a good friend in DC but due to unforeseen circumstances, I had to cancel.  I'm so bummed.

My work life is wonderful.  I'm busting out lawsuits left and right and I'm really showing them that I'm a great worker.  I hope that they have noticed it.  I've also been considering a part time job, but more importantly, I've been considering bartending school.  I think I would be a great bartender and it'd be a great way to pay off my student loans faster.

And I'm considering moving into Philly at the end of this year, to a place with tons and tons of bars.  I think it would be a good decision.

Writing has been on the back burner and I'm okay with that.  It comes, it goes.. and I let it.  It's my favorite thing in the world and I'm not going to make it become work.  I'm always inspired, I'll say that.  I can easily write a poem or a short story right this second.  But I don't want to right this second.

I plan on going on a solo trip to the beach in the next few weeks to soak up some sun and write my little heart out.  I'm looking forward to it.  <--  See that?  That's how I look at writing.  I do it when I like it, not when I'm forcing myself to like it.  I'm 24 and I've had various pieces published.  It'll keep happening and honestly I'm not in a rush.

What else?

Well, I'm on a family strike.  My mom still hates me, I still somewhat despise her.  My dad is okay and I feel bad because he suffers due to my mother hatred.  My great nephew's birthday party is next weekend or whatever and I'm not going because I don't know...

I just feel like my family doesn't ever reach out to me.  And then they want me to go out of my way to spend time with them.  What is the point, really?  I'm starting to really accept that my family and I just don't click at all.  Not everyone has the amazing family that every American TV show glorifies.  I don't have that family.

I have a dad who loves me with all of his heart.  I have a grandmother who loves me with all of her heart.  And I have a mother who had a very serious head injury who will never love me for who I am, but loves me because I'm her daughter and that's about it.

And that's really all that I can say.

Well, one last thing: I love my sister Marie because she reaches out to me.  But that's it.  That's really all that I can say.

That's why making tight bonds with friends is so important to me.  When it comes down to it, I really have nothing else.  I don't think I've ever been close to my family, except for when I was faking it.  I faked it for a good five years.  I'm done faking it.  I just want to be myself.  Yeah, I'm sure I'll have great family moments in my future but I really don't plan on going out of my way at all.  Nor do I plan on faking it.

I just want to be myself.  I want to accept myself and love myself.  And I feel like surrounding myself with people who don't accept me and love me for who I am is only going to make this harder for me. My niece especially (my great nephew's mother who is throwing the party) always kind of made me hate myself.

I don't want to hate myself.

Kiffles and tea

I think this post is going to be very important to me one day.  I love my grandmother with all of my heart.  I've never had a negative feeling for her in my entire 24 years on this planet.  Let me preface this by explaining how she's my grandmother, but not really my actual grandmother.  My dad was raised by her because his mother didn't really have the funds to raise him.  All of my blood grandparents died years ago, but this grandmother, my "grammy," is still alive and kickin' at 83.

She lives alone because her husband died a long time ago.  She's a beautiful little blond wavy-haired lady with a cute smile. She loves to cook.  She spends hours upon hours baking and cooking for my dad and everyone else that comes to visit.  She's very social.  She'll spend hours talking to anyone about anything.  She loves to sit out back on her porch with her black coffee and one of her many yummy baked goods.  Sometimes she switches it out for black tea. 

She's very clean.  Her house is always completely spotless and I get that from her.  Sometimes she says things in German, like "schauen."  She cooks a lot of easy German dishes that I don't know how to pronounce, but they're so good.  She also loves gardening and always has pretty flowers surrounding her cute little house.

She's a democrat at heart.  She always agrees with me politically.  She has quite a "live and let live" attitude towards life.  She gets so excited when I come to visit her.  She offers me every single thing in her fridge and gets upset if I don't eat every single thing in her fridge.  She gives me a big warm smile and a big hug when I get there, and the same thing when I leave.  She always tries to shove a hundred or a fifty in my purse, along with about 5 tupperware containers filled with food.

She loves to gossip.  She always wants every tiny detail about my life and always prods for more.  It's cute.  She loves when I bring my friends over and she prods them for even more information, and she also offers them every single thing in her fridge.

She is so cute and losing her will most definitely be the most difficult thing I'll ever have to go through.  It hurts me so bad just to think about it.

I have a bunch of recipes that she hand-wrote just for me.  Along with a letter.  I'll cherish those until the day that I die.

I don't have many people in my life who love me like she loves me.  I think my dad does.  I think my dad really loves me with every single piece of his heart.  But he doesn't show it like my grandmother does.  She's not my blood grandmother but she treats me like I am.  I'm so thankful to have her in my life. I can't imagine what my life would have been without her.  Dark and sad.  My parents never had much of anything.  I grew up around drug addiction, alcoholism, and just all around sadness.  She always helped my parents financially.   I looked up to her so much and wanted the nice, easy life that she had. 

She always brings up my grandfather ("pappy") who died a long time ago.  "Nikki, Pappy would have liked..."  "Nikki, Pappy loved you so much."  She's so cute.

I saw her yesterday.  Whenever I go to the Lehigh Valley, I visit her.  I visit her before I visit my parents.  I stay at her house for a few hours and talk about life. This Saturday was fun.

She knows that most of my friends are gay.  We talked about gay marriage and adoption for an hour or two.  She asked me about gay bars and such.  She's such a liberal at heart but also a product of her time.  It's so innocent and cute.  "Nikki, I don't know about gay marriage, we never did that in our time."  But she says it in such a cute, innocent way.  And it never takes much to convince her of viewpoints like that.  I told her, "Grammy, when two people love one another and want to commit to a lifetime together, why should they be denied that right?"  And she tilted her head, thinking about it deeply.

She told me, "Nikki, I was talking to my sister.  I was saying to her, 'but what do gay men talk about?'" I giggled.  She asked me what I talk about with my gay friends.  She's so cute.  She tries so hard to understand but it just comes down to the fact that she's a product of her time.  I like that.  It's not ignorance at all.  If she was born sixty years later, I know she'd be totally for gay marriage.  She said to me, "Well, white people weren't allowed to marry black people either and now they do all of the time.  And I know a lot of black people who are nice."  lol!  

Anyway, I just want to say that she means the world to me.  My first tattoo will most likely be for her, and I've said that for years and years.  I love tattoos on other people but I'm not a big fan of getting them on myself.  However, she is so incredibly important to me and the thought of her will always put a smile on my face until the day that I die.  *sigh*

Wasting my energy

I don't think life will ever make sense.  Whenever I tell someone who is older than me that I'm lost and confused, they tell me that they're lost and confused too and that it's a lifetime struggle.  That being said, to an extent I'll have to get used to this feeling.

I should be proud of myself.  I'm 24 years old and I reside in a cute little apartment by myself in suburban Philly.  I have a bachelor's degree.  My resume looks amazing for my age, given the economy.  I'm a writer and I've been offered a paid writing job, which is something a writer can always cherish.  I have a pretty active social life at the moment.  I spend most of my weekends in center city or Manayunk, drinking and dancing with some of the most interesting people this city has to offer.

I also have quite the personality myself.  Within two days of working at the law firm, my coworker turned to me and said, "What the hell are you doing here?  You are too interesting for this job.  I feel like you're going to be famous one day."

I laughed.  Not just because it's bizarre to hear someone say that.  But also because that's definitely not the first (or second or third) time someone has said that to me.

I should be very happy.  And you know what, I guess I am happy.  I'm very happy.  I take charge of my life, head straight for the things that I want, and always obtain what I was seeking.  I think I'm rather ambitious and I think there's a lot of dignity in that.  However, I am happy but there is still a big problem in my life.

I am not okay with my sexual orientation.  Not one bit.  I don't want to be gay but I was meant to be gay.  I try to force myself out of it, but it is something that can't be "forced out."  It is something that I can't change and that is absolutely devastating to me.  I always obtain what I'm seeking, but heterosexuality is something that I'll never be able to obtain.

I just want to be myself and I want people to love me for who I am, and some people do, but a lot of people do not.  And I'm, sadly, one of those people who does not love who I am.  I was with a guy for five long years and I made it work, but I went absolutely insane by year four and had to end it.

And here I am, being a fool.  Talking to a guy.  Trying to make it work because I want so bad to be (dare I say it?) normal.  I just want to be a normal straight girl with a boyfriend.  But I'm not straight.  I hardly like men at all.  I can look at them and say "Oh that's hot" and I can even make out with them and have sex with them, but I can't really be with one.  I can't break another boy like I broke Kevin.  I know who I am.

So, this guy knows about my sexuality and my inability to accept myself and he wants me to just be who I truly am, but here I am trying to force it to work.  I mean, he's adorable, he's intelligent, we have a bunch in common... theoretically it would work.  But in reality, he's a boy and I shouldn't force it to work.  Because four years from now, I'd go absolutely insane and add another boy to the list of boys who I hurt.

I've hurt too many people.  I am being selfish and stupid.

My friend Alex from up North (who is gay) asked me why I wish I was straight.  I told him that it's easier.  And it is.  I've never had problems getting attention from guys.  Finding a boyfriend for me is a piece of cake.  Alex agreed that the gay community is more difficult. This is what he said and I was like BINGO:

"Everyone of the opposite sex is seeking you and in the gay world its 50/50. 50% you seeking them, 50% them seeking you.  In the straight world guys will ALWAYS seek you."

And in addition to the whole ease factor, I have to hide who I am to an extent.  I explained to "kiss in the rain boy" that whenever my parents are planning on coming to my apartment, I hide everything that remotely links me to the gay community.  I remember once (it'll sound silly) crying as I tore things off of my refrigerator because I was expecting my parents in the morning, thinking to myself "I just want to be myself and I want them to accept me for who I am."

But what it comes down to is that even I don't accept who I am.  This is a big problem.

I fucking hate who I am. And it's the biggest waste of energy because I can't change it.  I. like. women.  That's that.  It's the way that I'm wired.  I can't change my wiring.  But I also can't change the fact that I don't accept the way that I'm wired.

Acceptance is by far one of the most difficult things in the whole entire world.  It comes with time and that's all that there is to it.  You can tell me a million times that I should accept who I am, but that won't do a thing. That's not at all how acceptance works.  It's so fucking tricky.  My mom can't just "accept" the fact that I'm gay.  It's not easy.  And I guess I can finally relate to her.  It's fucking hard.  When you don't accept something, you just don't accept it.

I don't know.  I'm babbling.  I should be happy with myself given all of my accomplishments.  This is ridiculous.  What a silly thing to be so upset over.

Britney Spears in 2007

I don't even know what is going on with me.  I chopped off my hair,  I quit my job, I started looking at apartments an hour north of where I currently live... and I kissed a boy in the rain for like two hours.  I'm having a "Britney Spears in 2007" moment.  Don't let me near any umbrellas.

My new job as a paralegal is interesting.  It's very serious.  Everyone is quiet and they all speak law, so I feel like I'm in another country.  I'm picking it up fast, however, due to my experience at the insurance company.  It's very private.  I can't leave papers turned upright on my desk or leave my desk without locking my computer.  I'm quickly adapting to the environment, however.

So I discussed the job, now I'll discuss my apartment situation.  My lease ends in October.  Should I stay or should I go?  If I stay, great.  If I go, I'm moving up to the Lehigh Valley to be around my mom, who hates me, my dad, my grandmother, and some of my best friends in the universe.  I'm starting to think that I'm going to stay, simply because this area makes me very happy.

Now the boy.  Oh god.  Yes, I still identify as a lesbian.  Yes, he knows I like girls.  Yes, I've been spending a large chunk of my free time talking to him.  Yes, we are hanging out on Friday and Sunday.  And yes, I think he's pretty awesome.  I'm just going with the flow.  Whatever.  I don't care anymore.  He's fun to kiss and talk about zombies with.  That and he's completely accepting and respectful of my sexuality. (He's going to Philly Pride with me on Sunday!)

Oh, and Keely and I are really rocky.  She's driving me off the fucking wall, to be honest.  She's way too sensitive.  And usually I'm good at walking on eggshells but recently, with my random "Britney Spears in 2007" moment, I just can't take and I called her a bitch.  And her, being sensitive, took it much harder than a typical female would take it. And I mean, a typical female wouldn't take it that well to begin with.  I'm just sick of her bullshit.  I apologized and all, but I really don't know how I feel about being best friends with someone who is so easily set off.

Kevin's mom is distraught about Kevin.  She's been looking to me for comfort.  That's kind of hard because I'm pretty sure we're all distraught about Kevin.  His baby momma is controlling and crazy.  And she's popping out babykev in August.

My mom and I fixed our broken relationship once again.  Ugh.  And my father and I have been closer these last few days than we've been since I was a little girl and we used to go fishing together.  I like it.  I hope it stays this way.  He's a great dad.  He's really been showing me that he cares.  I don't know what I'd do without him.  I like it when he calls me to ask how I'm doing.  He hasn't done that in years.

ANYTHING ELSE?!  I think I covered it all.  Sheesh.

Shitty people.

Last night I was down in the dumps.  My friends' band was playing in the city so I decided to go by myself.  I sat down at the bar and realized that I knew the bartender, which was great because I got free shots all night.

And then I started talking to a guy.  And he was very intelligent.  And then we kissed in the rain all night.  It was so random.  And I feel horrible.

I feel horrible because I know that I should never rope another guy in after what I did to Kevin.  I'm just a shitty person, really.