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2001-02-06 :: 18:29:01
Blah blah blah, financial-difficulty-cakes. The ex is stranded somewhere in Philly due to shit weather and a shittier automobile. I wonder if H.H. is pacing the halls frantically awaiting his call. God it makes my blood boil. I know it shouldn't. No lectures needed here on the merits and necessity of moving on, thanks. I get it. I saw The Virgin Suicides last night with Foreign Guy and it really rocked. I mean, I was touched. I was so worried that Coppola chick would ruin one of the most gorgeous books I've ever read, but she did it complete justice and it looked spectacular. Sigh. Why can't Rock Star Ex be my Trip Fontaine? Why does he still chase after band sluts like they have anything of subtance to offer? H.H., as far as I can tell, has not one redeeming quality. And I know this because we analyzed her to death, me and J (back when we were still friends). We analyzed her to fucking death. Because Dirty-D would not shut up about how we should be her friend and be like "sisters in rock", bonding with each other, and some such lameness. And J made some good points about why that was never going to happen, primarily because H.H. is so not down with the cause. That cause being, I suppose, women not using their looks to get by in life or as an excuse for acting stupid to get your way. And this is exactly the type of person H.H. is. And it should speak volumes about Rock Star Ex. Yet it pains me still. And he just doesn't get it. He. Just. Doesn't. Get. It. Fucker. I really hope some day I'll find this all really embarrassing and amusing. That I ever behaved this way. That I ever let him affect me so much. I hope to God I wake up one blessed fucking morning and I don't feel a thing for him anymore and I don't care what he does with his dick anymore. That would rock my socks off. |