It's just life
I want life in every word to the extent that it's absurd.

My life is so potentially Carrie Bradshaw except her baseball player boyfriend was stupid

Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2004
During a break from Combat Theatre on Saturday, I went down to the Aveda Spa with Julie and got a 15 minute massage. I have had this horrible pain under my left shoulder blade ever since.Now, I'm going to have pay more than $10 to get the kink worked out.

bitch. bastard.

This led to me not wanting to move any more boxes or shelves and fighting with Katie about who did more work yesterday.

Lester has been hogging the bathroom for well over an hour--I have no idea what he could possibly been doing in there and why it is he has to do it right now.

I just want to brush my teeth so I can go hangout with Liz, Matt, and Nick. My presence has been requested. However, it's f'ing hot here today and I'm not really sure I want to go anywhere. Finally broke down and turned the air conditioning on.

Not temperature hot...not hot at all...actually it's very humid. It's been sprinkling on and off, but you'd think we lived in Houston for cris sakes. It just needs to thunderstorm pour.

And I'm hardly wearing any clothes--just a skirt and t-shirt. It's the kind of hot where you don't feel like eating anything, but if I don't eat I'll get a headache--already starting to come on--and I'll drunk. Not having a wing man/woman when you go out stinks. There's no "oops, I accidentally got drunk, you need to sober up so you can drive," which, sadly, I often do. I go from sober to drunk lickity split--it's rare I feel the in between.

I want to stay home and see if my pretend boyfriend gets to pitch tonight. Mom says he's the best pretend boyfriend I've ever had. I did something so not like me and super cheesey--I sent him a card c/o the Cubs and I feel so stalker-esk and loser-ish because I did it. It wasn't anything big...just...

Had a great time with you at Taylor's last week. Sorry I had to leave--early morning. Call me next time you're in town...

I had to do something, even though I feel like I ruined my chance by just walking away.

It's not like I'm going to keep sending him cards, or show up at his place of employment or find his home address. If he calls, he calls. I'm sure I'll see him next Spring.

Though, Larissa said, "who knows--you could be engaged by the time baseball season starts again."

7:44 p.m. ::
prev :: next