Yeah. So that guy I was crazy about? Dumped me in the douchebaggiest way possible: dragging it out for days, and then, finally, sending a text message. At midnight. During finals week. What are we, 15?

I hate that thing guys do sometimes, where they spend a while making you hate them before it finally ends. So then, instead of just being sad, you're sad and angry, and yet also relieved.

Last night my roommate, who just broke up with her boyfriend a few days ago, and I went out and had a few drinks and laughed and talked about how men are dicks. We ended up in a bar that I actually really like, except that it's tiny, and on the weekends it's so packed with hipsters and college douches that you can barely find a seat (if you even want one at that point). But it was perfect last night: dark, not crowded, with a band playing sad twangy music.

Three more finals to go. Goddamn distractions.