I feel so stupid writing right now. I’m in tears over not finishing my physics homework. I don’t know how to do it (at all!), and I feel like a moron admitting that. I’m smart – I shouldn’t have to ask for help!! But I do, and it just rips me apart. This, plus my parents being retarded (which I don’t want to talk about), and Matt’s house burning down, and problems with other people (which of whom I don’t even know!!!), I’m going insane. Becca’s moving out on friday, and I should be thrilled (I am, I think). But, then I’ll have me as my own company. That’s rotten luck, isn’t it? And I can’t even keep J happy (even though he has his thesis to thank for that). I got so used to having him around that, now that he’s not, it’s disheartening. I just need a good cry – maybe that’ll clear things up 😛
So, here are a few things which don’t make any sense:
1) If someone pisses you off, why do you remain with that person? One of my mates is totally nuts. She lives with her boyfriend in London, and they drive each other mad, but still live with each other. I think they’re going on their 3rd year or so. He drives me crazy as well. Just like a stalker. Reads my blog, looks at my myspace. I think he thinks Lizzy and I are going to run away together like some kind of lesbian couple. Forget the fact that I have a boyfriend. She complains incessantly about him and how stalker-esque he is, but refuses to do anything. “It’ll hurt his feelings!” Oh like hell it will. Don’t think about the other’s feelings if you’re unhappy.
2) Why do they show old footy matches on FSN? I want to watch England’s current matches, not ones against the Dutch from a few years ago. Rubbish! At least I get to see Lampard, Owen and Beckham play *swoons*
3) I’ve danced since I was three, but still have the technique and talent of a black bear.
The rest of it, well, you dont need to know. I’ll figure that lot out on my own. Wouldn’t want my stalker to know these things.
ir‧ri‧tate [ir-i-teyt], -tat‧ed, -tat‧ing.
–verb (used with object)
|1.||to excite to impatience or anger; annoy.|
Ok, now that we have that out of the way, let me say this once, and let me be very, very clear: People who email me just to piss me off are a waste of my time. I have better things to do than to read email that was written to upset or argue with me in any way. I got two today, and immediately deleted them both (without reading them, by the way). I don’t care what words of wisdom (or lack thereof) were included in said emails, and frankly, I don’t care. In all honesty, school wasn’t all that terrible today: I got to see Andrew, I got tutored in physics, saw my sisters, and got my homework done. Not bad at all, I think. So, you know who you are. Just stop, alright? I’m not going to play your imbecilic little games. You and I are through. Get used to it. I’d rather date my ex-fiance than date you.
Hopefully that’s the last time I ever have to write something on that subject. Now, I’m going to go have a shower and get in bed before it gets too late.
Ok, I’m frustrated. And I cried. These are not good things to put together, I think. There’s this girl I know, and I eat lunch with her sometimes. I’ll call her Jane for the sake of argument. So, Jane is a good person (most of the time, albeit she’s slightly shallow), and doesn’t have a problem with me. Only when we’re in front of a large group of girls does she hold issue with a stupid way I wear my clothes, and feels the need to point it out to everyone about how wrong I am. Ok, do you know what? She could’ve done it afterwards, and I would’ve been like “That’s fine, I’ll take that into account.” Oh no, instead I’m like “So? I don’t give a flying fuck.” Oh yeah, that’s bad language 😛
Secondly, I’m the only one, apparently, who’s going to do rush for Phi Rho. I have very little help, and I’ll take whatever I can get at this point. Why did I sign up for this job?!
Third, I’m pretty, alright? I like dressing like a girl because I’m around stinky guys all day, and they forget I’m a girl. I just… I like to put effort into how I look, especially for Andrew. I take pride in how I look, and if I look like crap, well, it makes me feel like crap. This is stupid, I know. I don’t have to go pluck my eyebrows, I don’t have to get my hair done, and I don’t have to wear makeup or go tanning. But, I like it. I know it’s weird, but engineering made me girly. It made me realise how close I was to being like a guy, and even if I hate having my period and screwy emotions, I still wanted to be noticed that I was a girl, doing something that guys do. I’m the ONLY girl in my physics class. And, well, I want them to be aware of the fact, and not think I’m a guy with boobs. I’m not so shallow to think that looks matter all the time. I know that it’s what’s inside that counts. I don’t know why I’m jabbering on like this. It’s just depressing and, well, it made me cry. I know, it’s dumb. *sigh* Maybe I should sleep.
This is really becomming a whine-fest, I think. I swore to myself I wouldn’t whine on my blog, since my friends get enough of that as is. But, whatever. So, today at work was interesting enough. We had these really important NEES people coming, and I gave a short presentation on my coastal erosion project. They weren’t impressed, I think. I just thought my slides looked nice. Maybe they weren’t impressed because I was in dirty, ripped jeans with sand and mud all over me. I was crawling around in the wave flume resetting my instruments. After that, Alicia gave them a tour while I was sent to Bi-Mart to buy a hair dryer. So, the Army guys dropped our remote for the crane in the tsunami tank. What retards.
Them: “Oh, Kristin can go get us a hair dryer, she’s a girl.”
Me: “Well spotted.”
Them: “It better not be pink.”
Me: “It’ll be whatever damn colour I want it to be!”
And then I went to Bi-Mart. It’s full of stupid people. Then I played in sand some more, and helped get a dead bird out of the large flume. Oh, and we got the remote out of the tsunami tank, and got it dried out. Again, I’m surrounded by stupid people. I think tonight, I’ll hang out with Andrew some more, watch a movie maybe, and have dinner. Oh crap, I’m supposed to cook for him. Christ.
Mums are annoying, especially mine. She uses this false calming voice that patronises you into either a fit of frustration, or actually calms you. Usually it’s the first rather than the second. An example, if you will:
Me: Do you think I’ll be able to bring my inhaler on the plane with me to London?
Mum: I don’t know. Why are you looking at that right now, anyways? Shouldn’t you be doing homework?
Me: It was just a question! Can’t I ask questions?
Mum: Of course you can. But why aren’t you doing your homework?
Me: But maybe I didn’t understand what TSA said…
Mum: Why are you getting upset? I can hear your tone of voice.
Me: I was just asking a question!
Mum: Calm down, Kristin.
Me: Mum! I’m calm!
Mum: Doesn’t sound it. Why are you upset?
Me: Honestly, your calm tone of voice drives me crazy. I hate it when you use it! Stop patronising me!
Mum: Fine. This conversation is over. Goodnight.
Gah, she’s so touchy. That’s sort of what we said – I left out loads of stuff too. Argh. Makes me want to slap her.
Do you ever have days where you just drag ass all day long? Yeah, today was one of those days. I’m also incredibly sexually frustruated. Yes, you heard me correctly – sexually frustrated. I haven’t been laid in forever, not to mention sexual innuendos from old school friends don’t help either. I was speaking to one of my friends from high school earlier, and he just teased me merciliously for about an hour. He lives with his current girlfriend in DC (which isnt a state, and therefore shouldn’t have representation in the House or Senate… but that’s just my opinion), but still isn’t above winding me up. After he left, I spoke to a few other friends and it just got worse and worse. Maybe this is what a nun who’s had sex before feels like after a few years in the convent.
Other than that, I’m going back to bed. I hate feeling rundown for no apparent reason whatsoever. It’s frustrating, isnt it? Maybe I should clean the kitchen first… I kind of left it trashed a few days ago, and have yet to de-funk it.