2002-10-27 - 2:43 a.m.
So I have not written in a while because I had been using this online diary as therapy. I was using it as my own mental health tool and allowing you devoted viewers to witness my progress. For the last few weeks I have not needed therapy. I actually have been ok. No annoying guests, no haunting ex's, no family trauma, nothing. And things that did come up were dealt with then and there. I spoke my mind, and let people know how I thought and felt.
Well in additon I also got over *him. No need to call him Cap'n Asshole, other than the fact that I love that name. Anyway, I woke up and realized that I was over him. Because of this revelation I suddenly needed a new obsession. The first will be referred to as Anthony Corleone. Some of you fuckers may be able to figure out who that is but it doesnt matter. He knew that I was into him. He could read it in my eyes. It's not like I can hide things like that very well. Anthony Corleone, decided that he would flaunt it in my face and tease me since he knew I wanted it and probably wouldn't ever get the balls to go after it. After two weeks of Anthony Corleone being the flavor of the week and obsessing about horoscopes that said he may be my soul mate I realized that; 1. horoscopes are retarded, 2. I dont need to be searching for a soulmate at 21, I have plenty of time. 3. The only thing a relationship between Anthony Corleone and I would be good for is if I were the godfather and he were my inforcer. Mr. Corleone is a sociopath, I'm a bitch. There is no long term viability there. He would try to kill me and I would probably have a hit out on him. Does this sound wise to you? Probably not.
Anyway, the difference with this obsession and the others is that this time I had two obsessions. Just because it had been a while since it was an obsession instead of love I decided I needed two to reintroduce myself to the concept. So the other obsession we will call Pablo Picasso. Yes I am naming him after a famous painter. For those that know me well enough you will figure out why. So Pablo and I have been hanging out lately in my free time. I am totally comfortable with Pablo. I want to make out with Pablo. Pablo has the sexiest mouth and other things about him that are simply too enchanting to discuss without me needing to take a cold shower. PP and I like the same music, understand eachother and feel the same way about various things. Pablo is probably the soul mate that my horoscope was refering to. (You remember, the horoscope I said was retarded.) Pablo, however, sends mixed signals. One minute Pablo will do things that make me think that I am not the only one that thinks this relationship would be a good idea, then in the next minute Pablo does something skankalicious and reminicent of Cap'n Asshole.
There was a time that whatever Lola wanted, Lola got. The last time, however, that Lola got what she wanted, she got more than what she bargained for. Silly Lola. Now Lola must decide if it is worth doing again. If I want it, I'm going to get it. But should I?
I'm not falling for Pablo yet. Although the funny thing is, I totally could.
Maybe I'm addicted to love. And if I am does Betty Ford have a special wing for that?
I went to the bars last night with Craig. While Craig was penned against the wall by some boy that was slightly more attractive than myself, (Craig your'e such a skank, but mama still loves you) I was dancing on the floor by myself and I was happy. I was free and happy. The D.J. was spinning like he was weaving my life. His turntable was my story and his hands simply supplied the words that would weave my web. It was funny. Never have I felt so much freedom and elevation while on the dance floor. Then again I was totally blitzed. On the drunken scale of 1 to 10, I was Drew Barrymore before rehab. But thats not the point. Point is that the music, the bass, the words (even though it was dance mixes and totaly gay club music) and I were one. Last night a D.J. saved my life.
And last night Craigory was a Skank. Very skanky. You should have seen the way this boy had him up against the wall. Skank, Skank, Skank. But like I said, Mama still Loves you. Too bad the D.J> didnt save his life.
