Delayed reaction

Sadness setting in.

I KNOW he's a lying bastard but it makes it even worse not knowing what (if anything) was sincere and real. I really, truly thought that he cared, that we had a good thing going and hell, we were FRIENDS. We laughed till our stomachs hurt and tears came down our faces. We could toss zingers back and forth like nobody's business.

And I think it's just because I hurt from the procedure today and I'm sad and lonely even though I have my friends and my elbow hurts and I have stitches now that look like fucking whiskers coming out of my nose.

And he's a lying bastard, but I miss him. I know I shouldn't. I know he's not worth it. I know that I'm lucky I found out now before it went even further (farther?) and I ended up even more hurt and betrayed.

I know I'm not going through all this crap and procedures by myself but right now, I kind of feel like it. He was supposed to be here to help with all of this. I feel like I got my ass kicked, physically and otherwise, and right now, I miss him.

Ah...a reason to live again

But wait, there's more!

So in addition to the shitstorm of the last few days--namely, wrist-breaking and cheating-lying-piece-of-shit-busting--I have two more exciting events coming up:

1) Removal of my mole tomorrow morning. Scared shitless because plastic surgeon said that the numbing agent will "sting like crazy", which in medical terms is akin to "you will be on the floor begging for mercy."

2) A follow-up to my (stop reading, Fred) recent abnormal Pap this Friday.

Interesting, really, how you can cruise along, relatively happy and carefree, for months at a time, before you're bitch-slapped back to reality. I'm not trying to throw a one-woman pity party here; I'm just merely observing that this is a whole lot to deal with in a 7-day window. I guess I should be flattered that the powers-that-be think I'm strong enough to deal with it all. But, on my way back from Deceitful Lying Bastard's place this weekend, I couldn't help but look heavenward and say this silent prayer:

"Are you freakin' KIDDING me with this?"

The Price is Wrong

From Mom

Things im getting good at doing left handed

shower
shampoo
blowdry
shave
make coffee
smoke (shut up)
do laundry
shirt on/ off

Not so good

makeup (look like drag queen)
put on bra
put on shorts, jeans, etc
unload dishwasher
load dishwasher (you'd think i would have learned after the unloading thing)
cook (oh wait--i sucked b4)
type
eat (weight loss in future?)

Cloverfield

is a really good movie. Go rent now.

shawn's gone

and that's all that will be said about that lying piece of shit

Hello blogland,

I have some unfortunate news. Jen has broken her elbow. Frankly, I can't believe this is the first bone she's broken, lol. She asked me to post about it. I'm not a creative writer, and hell, her email is just too funny NOT to post as is, even though she asked me to edit it. I'm convinced she won't even notice, since she currently seems to be in a vicodin-induced happy land. Here, friends, is the exact email she sent to me earlier tonight:

"please pass on 2 concern3ed parties minus typos. broke elbow at school. slipped on water in hall. pretty syre kids are trying 2 kill me but. dont care cuz im on vicodin. vicotin is da bomb yo.

will be reading email but not responding to a whole lot--if u need an answer call. in splint now, go 2 ortho guy 2 c if i need cast and 4 how long.

took 25 min 2 type this


renee plz post on blog. ]

ps yay 4 vicodinn"

OH. MY. GOD.

To all who watched the Wings-Penguins game tonight:

That had to have been the most heart-stopping final 3 seconds of a game EVER.

Quick poll

Raise your hand if your work day involved a student who accidentally locked himself in his OWN LOCKER.

Just me, then?

What? WHY?

So the other day, Mom (Indian Name: Woman Who Makes Me Look Sane) sent me a link to the following Dateline story, warning me not to fall prey to this psychopath:

A man is targeting mothers in SUVs, out for a day of shopping at the mall in southern Florida

It seems to have escaped her attention that I'm not a mother, let alone one in an SUV. Next I'll be getting emails like this:

"OMG! Watch out for THIS guy! 'Jewish black men being targeted at gay pride parades.' "

Good lookin' out, Mom.

This one's for Anna

DUDE. Sex and the City movie. SO. GOOD.