my stepmother says they're all wrong!

I really, really hope I don't have any more weekends like this one in a long time. Ever, actually.

Friday night I got home from work a little after 11:00, with a pounding headache. There were lots of people in my house, many of whom I did not know, so I quickly made my way up to my room to get changed out of my work clothes and relax for a few minutes. No more than two minutes later, my friend Jenna and her friend Ally were knocking on my door, wondering where the hell I was. I was polite and let them in for 15 minutes or so before kicking them out so I could get changed. I spent the rest of the night in the living room, minding my own business and eating macaroni and cheese for dinner. I didn't really join in the party since I wasn't in the mood.

Everyone else was getting drunk, though, including one of my roommates. She and one of her old friends from high school were both plastered, screaming random shit at the top of their lungs the entire night. At some point they decided to get into a cake fight (there was a birthday cake for a friend's birthday), leaving a shitload of icing and cake all over the floors and walls. Of course they thought it was hysterical because they were drunk, but my crabby sober self wasn't nearly as amused. First I watched them get icing on my tapesty hanging on the wall, then it was getting dangerously close to the blanket that my mother spent hours making for me two years ago. At one point I made it clear that she had cleanup duty the next day, which sent her into a drunken bitchyness.

See, she has never liked my friend Jenna, for whatever reason, and was not pleased that I'd been spending most of the evening talking with Jenna. It was after my cake-related comments that my roommate started calling Jenna a fat cunt, and the entire scene went downhill from there. Long story short, I got everyone out of the house as quickly as possible, and tried to talk some sense into my roommate. All I got for my efforts was a door slammed in my face, severe name-calling, and the accusation that I'm an asshole to everyone in my house. Oh, and that she's pissed that half the campus thinks she's a lesbian because she supports my being gay. Riiiight.

I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn't. I walked into her room solely to inform her how much she had hurt me with the things she said, which ended up turning into a calm half hour talk about the things that have been going wrong lately. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we were able to clear the air, but she said many things that made me want to burst into tears and run away from everything and everyone.

Apparently the majority of my friends here have less than nice things to say about me behind my back. It's also perceived that I care about some "image" and am willing to do whatever it takes to achieve it, even if that means abandoning a good friend. She told me that several of my good friends here have warned her in the past not to get too close to me, since I have a history of leaving people in the dust in a search for someone greater. Not only was that incredibly painful to hear, it also got me thinking at 100 mph like I tend to do.

I hugged her goodnight and thanked her for the talk, only to crawl into bed and start crying. Seriously, the only thing I care about in life is to make other people as happy as possible, and time after time I realize that I just can't do that. This was no exception. It was pushing 3:00 in the morning, but I called my best friend in hopes of getting some feedback from her. She didn't answer, so I left her a message. Next I called Jay and asked him if I come across as having an agenda, regardless of who I have to hurt along the way, and he said I don't. Next I called J to ask him the same thing, but he ignored my call. I didn't leave a message. I went to sleep Friday night feeling like absolute shit.

On Saturday morning I helped clean up the house because it was the right thing to do, then took my roommate to brunch. We didn't talk about the night before, but our time alone did the talking for us. She knows I love her and that she's my best friend in New York, so that was that.

My friend Marty from the state school up the road wanted to go to a gay bar in Albany last night, so I agreed to go with him. I've had a little crush on this guy for a while, but nothing major. However, considering J's monumental doucheyness lately, I needed to get my mind on someone else. So I went.

He drove to Albany, where we went to dinner at an Indian restaurant. It was surprisingly delicious. But that's beside the point.

Next we went to smaller gay bar while it was still relatively early, and had a few drinks and played a few games of pool. Nothing spectacular.

We got to the bigger place at 11:30, each got a drink, and roamed around for a while. He was getting drunk fairly quickly, which I admit to encouraging, and soon wanted to dance. I'd already told him that I don't dance, so he went to do his thing. I'm the typical wallflower at such establishments, so I quickly found my spot against the wall and remained firmly planted for a while. After we'd been there for about two hours, my old friend Matt walked by. You know, the guy who used to be my best guy friend until I discovered that he'd been fucking another friend of mine behind my back and lying about it? Yeah, him. I hadn't seen him in nearly a year, but I'm not one to pretend others don't exist, so I gave him a hug and allowed him to continue on. He was there with his old roommate Rob, who I went to the bars with a few times last semester. Rob was also the guy who once claimed our romp session wasn't consenual. Yeah.

Before long, Matt ditched both Rob and I to talk to some new guy, and quickly disappeared with the new guy never to be seen again. Whore. Marty and I left at 3:45, and were five minutes away from the club when Rob called and asked for us to please drive his drunk ass home. Since I was driving drunk Marty's car, I turned around and picked the loser up. The entire way back to his house, he sat in the backseat and literally squawked the entire story of him and Matt until Marty finally turned around and screamed "MY HEAD HURTS! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" much to my amusement.

We dropped Rob off and hit the road back to Oneonta. Marty was asleep in record time, leaving me to drive on the world's most boring highway for over an hour alone in the middle of the night. We pulled into town shortly before 6:00 this morning, when I woke Marty up and asked where I was going. He said to go to my house. Score!

I pulled up. He said he was in fine condition to drive home, and thanked me for driving. WHAT!? I got out of the car, opened the back door to get out my stuff, and before I knew it he was behind the wheel, thanking me again, and shutting the door. Excuse me, but I just spent 10 hours with you in hopes of going to bed with you! And I didn't get so much as a fuckin' hug!?!? LAME!

I wouldn't have been able to fall asleep in five seconds if it hadn't been so late. This afternoon I asked Marty if I had said or done anything wrong last night, since he seemed unhappy with me. He assured me it had nothing to do with me, and that he was just having a depressing night. Um okay, but next time sleep the depression away in my bed, asshole. Sheesh.

Today I also decided that I've had it with J. No really. I wrote him an email, ripping him a new one for ignoring my call on Friday. I told him that now that I know his true colors, I no longer want anything to do with him, and that I hope he someday finds what he's looking for out of life. And goodbye.

He IMd me later, saying that my email was brutal and unnecessary, and that he never even got my call on Friday night. Even if that was the truth, it still doesn't explain or justify the way he's been treating me for two months, and I told him that. He simply replied "fine, you seem to be happy with your email, so goodbye."

So that's it I guess, once and for all. You meet a guy, date for only two months, he makes you feel better about yourself than anyone ever has, and before you know it you're never speaking to one another again. Just another day in my life.

This entry was painfully boring and long. I'll likely never reread it. But it felt good to get that all out there.

I think it's time to put "eat vagina" on my next to-do list.

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