diary of a manic obsessive.


i know boys are stoopid... so then why do i care?

ugh. have you ever come up with the perfect narration for a life story while in an impossibly annoying situation (driving on the highway, brushing your teeth, walking a tight rope)? Well, i came up w/ a luvly little diddy while in the shower just now & i'm peeved that all i can remember are a few choice lines & the bare bones idea. It was whimsical, poetic even. It had lyrics, not lines. it was full of articulate strings of 50 cent SAT words & references to the good 'ole days. :o( i'll try to remember.


it all started when i met a boy. i met him in the 6th grade. i was 11. he was in a different "class house" as i was, so i didn't know him very well & honestly, i found him intriguing, but i was far too distracted by the Jack's, the Alex's & the some 23 Chris' in my own "class house" (go yellow house! wooop!) that i was sure were my future. Oh, i'd fantasize about these boys being my first kiss, my prom date, & eventually seeing them at the end of the fearie tale aisle. I thought that they were surely my future, not this silly boy who at the ripe age of 11-12 professed his love for another girl (a GREEN house girl). It was epic in the days of trapper keepers walking into town on fridays & remember locker combination for the first time ever. I didn't much care. at all. not yet anyway.

3 years passed & i "dated" a few boys. Even three that were in high school when i was in 8th grade! (btw.. that made me a slut, not a legend...) my first date came & went, my first kiss was over, disappointing and almost forgotten (i ended up voming all over that kid two weeks later... it's ok.. he deserved it.. the little prick) i'd acted in school plays, gotten a retainer that i wore for about a week & even grew up pretty fast when a close friend passed away tragically the first week of 8th grade. He was 13. Through all of this and moving to a different house, i'd also made new friends and lost some old ones. But i still didn't much know, or care about this boy.

Freshman year of high school. I took theatre. I'd been looking forward to this for so long. A whole class EVERY day to honor & perfect my craft of choice. Well... the teacher got preggers & the year was basically spent with a sub every day reading off a lesson plan. "work.. on your... monologues." disappointing, but ended up being great... don't worry.. i'm getting there. This boy, he was in my acting class. We started to talk, no big deal, worked together on some class work & eventually ended up wanting to work together every day. Oh how quickly i fell. Little did i know what was coming for me. a wirlwind of teen angst, euphoria & heartbreak. Given that every day we had a 48 min period where the 15 (give or take) of us were basically let loose in the auditorium, it became my favourite 48 mins very fast. Do you have any IDEA how many dark corners & secret hiding spots one (or should i say, "two") can find in a big, basically empty theatre? a lot. trust me. i've found them all. including the lighting catwalk about 50 feet over the seats. (terrifying, dusty & definitely NOT romantic..)

So, me & my boy would spend the class in some hidden crevice going over each others monologues, playing the piano (well, he played, i swooned) & just the slightest bit of flirting. There was a wrench in the works... we'll call her "C". She was obnoxious & she wanted him something awful. She sweat him HARD. No worries, she's a minor detail. She had nothing on me! ;o)

ANYWAY... the sad thing is that i don't remember our first kiss... i don't remember our first real "hot & heavy" moment, i couldn't tell you where we went the first time we "went out" or anything like that. I don't even remember what plays we were in together or anything. What i do remember is that i fell fast & i fell hard. He was the object of my affection & i had a lot of affection to give.

He was in the school musical our Freshman year. I sat in the front row. I brought him flowers. It was cute. After that, a club formed. (weird... yes..) He now had a fan club of 8th grade girls who had basically come to the musical to scope out the upper classmen who they would join in a few short months. When the "i love" club was chartered for him, the teenies got wind of my existence & more importantly, my involvement. Many of them saw as i walked past the "actors only" sign & threw my arms around him after the show. I was an obstacle, a BIG one & a threat. There was now an "i hate spanky" club!!! (obviously it wasn't "spanky", but go with me) Can you believe it!? what a bunch of prepubescent bitches, right?

skip ahead a little bit because i'm afraid i might be losing you.

It was Jr. year now. We'd had mountain top highs & shit on the bottom of your shoe lows. We'd shed tears, shared moments, & broken up for periods of 3 months, 3 weeks or 3 hours. We were each others first. It wasn't very romantic, but for everything that it was, it's was damn near perfect. He was, without a shadow of a doubt, my first love. (yes readers.. i said "LOVE" not luv... this was real real LOVE). We even said it to each other. I'd never said it to anyone & even though he would usually only say it at weird times, he said it back. I believe that he meant it.

the reason this is all relevant? Well... about 5 months, roughly 10 fights, the loss of 2 friendships & quite a bid of "dates" later, we called it quits. We didn't end badly. We just kinda fizzled out. I honestly, don't even remember what happened. We remained friends & he helped me a lot through my next two big romances. I still swooned over him when i continued to bring flowers to his shows & admittedly was a little happy when i still saw girlies giving me the stink eye when i was so graciously greeted after the bows.

Anyway, in the last few years, he's lived in NYC & i still live in this dumb town (ew, i'm a townie)... even though there is only an hour long train ride between us, it's still difficult to make our lives match up well enough to see each other. So, last week when i randomly got a facebook message from him saying that he "really wanted to see me" i admit, i had a bit of a Scooby-Doo "eroo?" moment. He said that he was going to come home for the weekend because he "decided he wanted to see me". Great! Awesome! I'm stoked! He didn't come. Today, gasp! a text message! "I think I'm coming home tonight, i'll holler at ya"... then "hey, can i stay at your place?" Sure. of course you can, but my room is a mother luv'n hazard waste land, so i'll need to do some seriously fast cleaning. "i don't care about clean rooms" Well... i rushed home & cleaned the room. It was gross, & after an hour & a half of cleaning, so was i. yuck. 9:30, better get in the shower. "Yo homie, you coming or did i waste my evening cleaning?" "Ahh, i'm actually not babe... sunday night maybe" "What a dick! i've been cleaning since 8!!!" "I told you I wasn't for sure! I'm sorry!"

Of course it's ok. I mean, he didn't say he was absolutely coming. So, why am i annoyed? Because i dropped everything to clean up & make sure that i was available when he wasn't absolutely coming. Why'd i do that? How dumb of me. I shulda cleared a path from the door to the bed & said "fuck it, he won't care" & then gone to the damn bar. By the time we woulda gotten back to the house we woulda passed out anyway. who cares about a clean room.

what a waste.

Oh ya... for all of you that have read back into the old entries, yes, he's the cutie in the Truth ad that i posted about LAST july. Lannon, sweetie, if you're reading this for some weirdo reason... i luv ya boo, nbd.

still luvs him, but do not luvs that i wasted my night for no reason. poo*

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