Wednesday, Jul. 06, 2005
I am stupid, you have to spell it out for me.
Really, how was I supposed to know that my necklacec is a non-traditional promise ring? He never told me, and everyone knows that with me you need to be about as subtle as a brick through the window.
And why, why do I have to open my fat mouth and tell the mean and nasty truth? Are there no flashing warning signals in my brian? Do I have some sort of birth defect because I was not created by my father's seed, but rather because I suspect I am the creation of him peeing in my mother?
Or maybe, ever since my childhood my horrible mother has been telling me the truth- am I the adopted child of two Parisian mimes?
I am embarassed for myself. I am embarassed for my race. Should man-kind send me out to live with the Raelians? YES!
I will ultimately be left alone in the wilderness armed with nothing but a stick and a bad Jay-Z album, left to my own devices. Yes, I am this much of a threat to modern society. I will die! The Raelians won't need me for any reason other than providing eggs and stem cells for their cloning efforts. I will wave my stick in the air and shout, "Don't eat me, I'm FERTILE!" at the top of my lungs. But wait- I wouldn't mind contributing to science, but what if they just pump me full of Alien-Sperm and I turn into a large, baby producing machine. Would life be living then?
Yes. Because I told Cody that I was jealous of Phillip getting Karina a promise ring. Because I am STUPID and it just blerted out of my mouth. I didn't even coherently think the thought, it just was. It sat and festered in some dark, little-known corner of my mind until I could no longer keep it to myself. And Candace wasn't around to make me think rationally and laugh at my petty thoughts, and it was a silence; if there's one thing that freaks me out it's a silent streak.
Great. Because of my fat mouth he's upset, albeit understandably, and I am the bitch once again. He looks at me sadly and says that he feels that he can do nothing right, ever and I feel like shit. I tell him that I'm sorry and that I"m a bitch for doing that and saying that, and apologize like there's no tomorrow and freaking out and wishing I had my big, strong boyfriend to wrap me in his arms and tell me that everything was okay. But he couldn't because he was my problem, because I am my problem, because I open up my fat mouth every now and again.
He explained about the necklace. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. I am a moron, a loser, a freak to society. No wonder he gets offended if I take it off when we're fighting. (If you're reading this [which you're probably not] I didn't take it off that one time because I didn't have faith in our relationship. I took it off because it reminded me of you, and I was mad and angry and hurt and tired of trying to figure out if you love me or the person that I used to be.) No wonder he loves to see me wear it. No wonder it was a big freaking deal. No wonder I put out when I got it. No wonder I find out that my dentist, my God-Father, my mother's "pet" squirrel die when I take it off. No freaking wonder!
"Well, I kind of thought of your necklace as a different kind of promise ring," he said. "One that nobody else can have. Something more special than a ring, because you hate rings anyway. They drive you crazy." He's right. I hate rings. They drive me crazy. I have pudgy fingers- I can't wear rings! And my fingers swell up and down constantly- so much that my ring size changes- depending on how much piano I play. I'm getting off topic, aren't I?
Please God, if there is a God, make me do something else stupid, or bless Cody with memory loss so we can forget this whole thing ever happened.
theparisian at 4:50 a.m.