It's been almost a year since I've written in here. My boss makes fun of me for being a blogger (because she also has no life and is an avid blogger), so dammit, I'm going to be a blogger!
On my Facebook, I have my slightly crazy ex boyfriend, my definitely crazy (may soon not be my) best friend and my coworkers that I love but don't want to know everything about me. This journal, diary, blog, what-have-you, is my only bit of virtual freedom where I can type my mind and not have to worry about what someone else is going to say.
It's going to be scattered and random because I haven't written in a long time and well, I'm scattered and random.
I finally found out what kind of gruesome spider scared the hell out of me while sitting outside my local Marshall's about four years ago.
You don't forget a bug that looks like this.
If that was walking across the job application you were about to write on, wouldn't that freak you out?
My roommate isn't coming home tonight like I thought. I was thinking about abusing her rules and smoking a bowl and cigarette inside, but going outside gives me an excuse to wear my new (and super fucking awesome) wine colored Converse. I realized last night that I bought a bottle of nail polish in the exact same color a week ago.
My crazy/drunk friend is now in a mental hospital in Nashua. Apparently, she has access to a phone and is calling every number she can remember and harassing whoever is unfortunate enough to pick up the phone.
She called me at work yesterday. I had a mini panic attack. She was rambling on and on about how she needed to talk to me, it was imperative that she talks to me, it's a life or death situation ...
Once I finally get her to shut up and realize it's me, she asks me for help.
"What am I supposed to do?" says the person who doesn't give a shit anymore.
"Do I need to tell you what's happened to me in the past day? Some guy sent me 6 miles in the wrong direction, someone stole all my stuff, some hobo pissed on my stuff, I have no idea where I am ..."
It was all lies. Sure, someone stole her stuff, but that was because she's manic and hid everythere where she couldn't even find it. She took her acoustic and electric guitars with her and lost them. She lost her phone. She lost her glasses. She lost her bike. Somehow, that's all my fault.
I know it's not my fault. I know there's no possible way it could be my fault, but she still shook me up a little.
It's a very hard situation to explain, but I feel like she stole part of my life from me. The years, time and money I spent trying to help her hurt me. I lost out in the end. When she came knocking on my door at 5:30 in the morning before she went on her rampage, and I told her she could spend the day but not the night, she got mad at me. She told me I never helped her with anything, i was using her, I only wanted her around to make myself feel better ... It was terrible. Did she think telling me all of that would make me want to let her stay? She really was out of her mind.
I try not to think about it, but when someone is such an essential part of your life and suddenly they aren't there, not because of death or distance, but because they mentally aren't there, it's hard to cope with.
All day everyday for almost a week something funny has happened to me at work and I wanted to pick up my phone and text her and tell her, but I can't. She not only doesn't have her phone, but she doesn't have all of her mind and wouldn't think what I said was funny or smart. Not having someone to talk to is the hardest part, I think.
I'm going to smoke weed and transplant my cactus.
- Scara Oh! Hara
On my Facebook, I have my slightly crazy ex boyfriend, my definitely crazy (may soon not be my) best friend and my coworkers that I love but don't want to know everything about me. This journal, diary, blog, what-have-you, is my only bit of virtual freedom where I can type my mind and not have to worry about what someone else is going to say.
It's going to be scattered and random because I haven't written in a long time and well, I'm scattered and random.
I finally found out what kind of gruesome spider scared the hell out of me while sitting outside my local Marshall's about four years ago.
You don't forget a bug that looks like this.
If that was walking across the job application you were about to write on, wouldn't that freak you out?
My roommate isn't coming home tonight like I thought. I was thinking about abusing her rules and smoking a bowl and cigarette inside, but going outside gives me an excuse to wear my new (and super fucking awesome) wine colored Converse. I realized last night that I bought a bottle of nail polish in the exact same color a week ago.
My crazy/drunk friend is now in a mental hospital in Nashua. Apparently, she has access to a phone and is calling every number she can remember and harassing whoever is unfortunate enough to pick up the phone.
She called me at work yesterday. I had a mini panic attack. She was rambling on and on about how she needed to talk to me, it was imperative that she talks to me, it's a life or death situation ...
Once I finally get her to shut up and realize it's me, she asks me for help.
"What am I supposed to do?" says the person who doesn't give a shit anymore.
"Do I need to tell you what's happened to me in the past day? Some guy sent me 6 miles in the wrong direction, someone stole all my stuff, some hobo pissed on my stuff, I have no idea where I am ..."
It was all lies. Sure, someone stole her stuff, but that was because she's manic and hid everythere where she couldn't even find it. She took her acoustic and electric guitars with her and lost them. She lost her phone. She lost her glasses. She lost her bike. Somehow, that's all my fault.
I know it's not my fault. I know there's no possible way it could be my fault, but she still shook me up a little.
It's a very hard situation to explain, but I feel like she stole part of my life from me. The years, time and money I spent trying to help her hurt me. I lost out in the end. When she came knocking on my door at 5:30 in the morning before she went on her rampage, and I told her she could spend the day but not the night, she got mad at me. She told me I never helped her with anything, i was using her, I only wanted her around to make myself feel better ... It was terrible. Did she think telling me all of that would make me want to let her stay? She really was out of her mind.
I try not to think about it, but when someone is such an essential part of your life and suddenly they aren't there, not because of death or distance, but because they mentally aren't there, it's hard to cope with.
All day everyday for almost a week something funny has happened to me at work and I wanted to pick up my phone and text her and tell her, but I can't. She not only doesn't have her phone, but she doesn't have all of her mind and wouldn't think what I said was funny or smart. Not having someone to talk to is the hardest part, I think.
I'm going to smoke weed and transplant my cactus.
- Scara Oh! Hara