Undone

guilt trip day. That’s what it is. Pack your friggin’ bags, cause we’re going on a guilt trip.

and no– it’s not fun. Ever.

First i get it from my dad, because i’m wearing a wife beater and it’s nearly noon. Holy crap, who knew it was some kind of deadly sin or whatever. so we get into an argument about that. Whoopdie doo. I dont’ really care if i fight with my dad, it seems like the in thing to do. *shrugs* then there’s my mom.

oi. I got an email from an old friend of mine. That is, i haven’t talked to them since i was in my sophmore year of school. *shrugs* but mom keeps making me feel cruddy for not writing him back. She pries into my life and dissects it, and after the morning i had– i just want to get the hell out of here. Very very badly. I feel like hiding at the game crazy, at Red’s house, or even Monkey’s house. I just need to get away from here. Because if I get one more person pressuring me to do something their way, i’m going to scream.

because– in the end– it’s my life. my choices, my mistakes to make. *screams, frustrated* but i’m the only one who gets that. Who understands that my life is mine. Me. My choices to make. Well, Me and God. there ya go. That’s it.

But my parents are set on choosing who i talk to, what i say, how i dress, everything. and I just feel like throwing my hands up in the air.

I thought God was the only one i was supposed to answer to in this life. I wish it was really that was that way.

Derringer Meryl [Sometimes, I wish] Out

So, overall I wouldn’t call myself gorgeous. In fact, I’d call myself normal looking. nothing on me screams “Holy Crap, Look it that girl…” well, at least not in a positive manner. I mean sure, i’ve gotten a few “Oh God In Heaven!” type things in my time, so when my mom suggested today that i could be a beauty queen, i had to laugh. I mean, i’d show you how i look, but the camera we use, keeps breaking, and only when i use it on myself, if that’s any notation.

*shrugs* I guess i’ve gotten used to being average looking. My thighs have stretch marks reminicent of a mother of three, not to mention they jiggle like jello that my mom makes for the summer holidays. Sure, Marco and Red seem to think they’re the cat’s meyow, I think it’s because they haven’t seen them up close and personal. And Cheeze and rice, lets not even start in on the whitness of them. I keep em white because that’s keepin’ them safe. Cancer runs in my family.

*shrugs* I dunno. I want to be a booth bunny, but cheeze, that has to be a lot of work. *frowns*

And I don’t like to be all prettyfied so some drunk off his butt jerkazoid can feel me up. If I was a booth bunny, i’d have to be a fairly liberated one. So I can kick their butt when they get out of line. *growls possessively*

Anyway- Take a vote, see what you think. Booth Bunny, Booty –err– beauty queen material?

That’s what I thought.

Derringer Meryl [I’ll be love’s suicide] Out

So, I’m giddy happy girl. Sure, I admit… I’m the one woman homage to the exorcist (as seen on How to Loose a Guy in 10 Days) But you wanna know what… People still like me that way. And yeah– it may take a while to find a guy who can stand that, but i think it’s worth the wait.

Always late, but worth the wait.

And I found (thanks to my darling brother) a picture of next season’s Angel Promo. Ohhh does it make me melt. People like James Marsters are so friggin’ hot, it’s a wonder they exist. Ohhhh *sighs*

Lets see, what else? Well according to my good friend Marco (ohhh How I adore the Marco…. let me count the ways) He says he agrees with Red, I look better than my old boss (who coincidentally could also be called red… hm.) and that my thighs and butt are excellent. So I’m smily and giddy from that whole smeal. I mean, who couldn’t love being complimented by a guy. Sure, He’s married and what not, but all together… it’s still a stellar compliment.

I enjoy stellar compliments. They’re fun. However amid the upper of that, I stumble across the thought of not being as pretty as some other girls.

that’s like the stab in the back or something. You aren’t expecting the thought to sneak up on you, in fact– you’re planning on feeling damn special for the rest of the day, and whammo! all the sudden you start to feel really cruddy, because you don’t have the looks of some other chick. *grumbles* I hate that. blah. I mean, i don’t expect to look like Angelina Jolie. Hell. That’d take some damn good plastic surgery. I mean, those regular looking but still stunning girls. THey aren’re famous, but you know it’s still a matter of time until they’re discovered. and it makes me want B&J really bad–

but instead i”m going to the school and doing laps…. in the pool… because out of the two, laps’ll get me looking pretty faster…

Derringer Meryl [unless you enjoy the pudgy look] Out

The smart ass who came up with the idea “Put on a Happy Face” obviously didn’t know the disaster he was making for his future generations. Jerk off.

I mean, sure, sometimes life seems crappy and putting on a happy face can make it better– i admit that– but the whole idea that it makes the problem better for some damn reason, pisses me off to no end.

Lets run with this idea. (Quickly mash in the idea that you don’t have to pretend around family) So you smile and wave with the best of em, seriously, you make Britain’s royal family proud with the way you ignore the under-lying problems you have. So you smile and wave, talk small talk until you feel like your lips are going to fall off. You get home, and all of the sudden, you dont’ have to cover up the problems, and you’re angry and mad and just grouchy all around.

that’s me. I hate being the smile-y queen when i go out. I guess that makes me the princess di of the group here at home. I don’t like to smile when i’m angry, and I hate to be in public when i’m angry. I dont’ like to be put on parade so some self serving person who is using me for their good deed for the day can ask me “if I’m okay” or someone can give the excellent advice of “Smile, it’s never that bad.” It’s stupid. I mean, how do they know it’s not that bad?

I mean for the first time in my life i admitted to myself last night that i don’t consider myself a person, so much as a tool for other people to use. It was a new low…. even for me.

*grumbles* and i’d like to admit to you the one place i’ve found where all the noise in my head stops– but it sounds a little — well obsessive and just plain crazy–

maybe some other time.

Derringer Meryl [Use me and abuse me] Out

I guess I get lost in what i’m feeling sometimes. And I admit, for one week (or so) of every month, i’m incredibly introspective. I think about me, i’m angry, i’m happy, i hate everything, and love it all at the same time…

I’m not exactly even keel girl — and i guess it’s one of those pathetic girl cover ups, much akin to “I was just reading your shirt” guy cover ups. We have to blame our moody-ness on PMS, we can’t — or I can’t– admit that i’m grouchy because i don’t know how i’m feeling, or why– and I don’t know how to stop.

So I do it the only way I know how– I hole up in my room– i cut myself off from people, and despite how much i want to reach out to them, I’m always smacking myself back… I know what i want out of life, but i also know it’s not within my reach. I know, I can wish, and want, and desire until my brains fry– but all i’m going to end up with is fried brains, and that’s all.

I’ve been biting my nails again. Not a lot, but enough that i’ve noticed. I think it comes from being angry with myself. I know it’s been annoying Red lately, that i’ve been so moody. But I feel — i’ve been feeling — this way and i can’t get it out of my head.

Sometimes I feel like i’m talking to air. Like– not here, just in general. And I suppose it doesn’t help that i’m listening to my music list entitled “Depress Me” right now, but i think my feeling down-ness stems from something a little deeper– something i’m repressing– and actually something i’m fighting with myself about right now.

I did the same thing about a year ago. With HIM, except, it was understood by myself and others taht it was acceptable. The seclusion, it was okay. Now i want to curl up and hide from the world– except there’s no where to go, and i have the extreme lack of pneumonia. It sorta makes me wish I had it again. I know, I could go to the Hospital, and just make out like crazy with the sick people.

like i could do that.

Eh– I can’t hide at work, can’t hide at Red’s, Can’t hide at Monkey’s, can’t hide at school, there’s no where to run to–

no where to hide.

Derringer Meryl [I wish…we never] Out