2001-02-27 :: 13:18:32


I'm mad.

Rocket From the Crypt is sold out at Mercury Lounge. Not that I couldn't get tickets to the April shows at Bowery Ballroom, but Rock Star Ex was going to be at the Mercury and it was sweet when he said "We'll probably end up standing next to each ither rocking out," and I just really wanted to be there with him, you know? Because they're kind of, sort of "our band."

I might have a minor panic attack if H.H. is going to that show.

Oh well.

Another day of distracting myself online.

The date last night wasn't so bad. He was actually quite funny and entertaining, even if he wasn't a total hottie. He was cute. Skinny, geek boy in baggy pants and a hoodie.

When I got home, another potential date had called me. This one is older-geeky-cute.

There are too many boys and I'm not interested enough. I really do want my shoes back from Puzzleboy. I don't think I mind about him anymore. I mean, whatever, you know? Friends is okay. Everyone needs friends.

I want to be excited about somebody. It's been so long, too long. The last person I was psyched about was Rock Star Ex and I'm still excited to see him on Sunday even though it's probably wrong for me to feel this way. I mean, we're broken up. It's over. He's with H.H. now. These are facts that I've come to terms with, but I'm not happy about.

He still makes my stomach feel funny when I see him for the first time in weeks. After eight years, I still think he's so beautiful and I still want to kiss him. I am pretty sure the feelings are mutual.

If only we could get it together and work it out. It would be so rad.

MC is leaving at the end of March. To go to Atlanta for his job. That's kind of weird. I mean, it's sort of like the end of an era. While I know his crazy antics and funny voices will be missed, it's such an awesome opportunity. Making cartoons. How cool.

I wonder who they're going to find to fill his spot in the house.

I wonder about that crew a lot. I mean, I used to be part of it, before I was "excommunicated" or something. I wonder, if Rock Star Ex and I were to start seeing each other or hanging out on a regular basis, if they would welcome me back. Rock Star Ex seems to think so, but I have a gut feeling it would be all smiles and laughter to my face but behind my back all eye-rolling apathy. People can be so mean. "They just want what's best for me," he says.

That's why, when he came over that one time, Dirty kept calling my house to convince him to come home because what he was doing was "wrong." Honestly. How fucking none of his business is that? How about he worries about his dysfunctional relationship and not Rock Star Ex's? It would be great if they could all just butt out of his business for one second and handle their own lives for a change. Rock Star Ex is a big boy, he knows what he's doing (most of the time). He is not retarded, he is not four.

There's caring about your friends, and then there's micromanaging their lives. I'm sick of the micromanagers. And the busybodies.

Last night when Rock Star Ex and I were on the phone talking about our Sunday plans, he told me that H.H. said to him "Well, if that's how you want to handle your breakup." Meaning, she thought it was weird that we choose to try and be friends. She said that she never keeps in touch with her exes, that they just disappear from each other's lives. And Rock Star Ex told her that's never going to happen with me, so we have to learn to be friends again.

My hatred for her is at the boiling point. I have no idea who the hell she thinks she is but she needs to keep her mouth shut about my relationship with Rock Star Ex. She waltzes into his life for ten minutes and already she's become a micromanager. Twit.

And in other annoying groupie news, the girl that Rock Star Ex cheated on me with (we'll call her Sleazy) is considering moving to New York. She is clinically insane.

She painted a picture of her and Rock Star Ex together, all "Precious Moments"-style. Very sick-making and gag-worthy.

She sends him clothes and shoes and gift packages and fucking mix tapes and she will not disappear. She just won't go away.

I'm so tired of groupies and rocker chicks and it's so very exhausting and I just want to lay down and cover my head.

Why do they matter to him? Would it have mattered if I went all berserk, groupie-style? If I, like, crocheted him crap and bought him thrift-store t-shirts? Would it really make a difference?

Would these girls even care when he quits the music biz in five years, like he said he was thinking of doing?

I doubt it.

They are so boring. And yet he flocks to them like a moth to a bug zapper.

I don't stand a chance in hell.


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