Too ugly to be a friend
Tonight I felt too ugly to be a friend.
Did I do something wrong? Is there a reason I am being left out of EVERYTHING?
Rewind….
So, about a week ago I put up a Facebook status [cause thats how we communicate, ok?] saying “Hey I want to go to the fair! Lets plan something for next week. Who’s in?” To which I get tons a comments from friends interested. One of my friends mentioned going tonight for a concert to which I expressed my enthusiastic interest.
I hear nothing of plans, so I move on with my day. Only to come home to see various status updates from my friends about being at the concert at the fair.
I cried.
I legit had tears over this tonight.
Now, you could say “oh maybe they didn’t know you wanted to go” but this whole thing was discussed over my fucking Facebook status.
You could say “Maybe they thought you knew.” Knew what? Some how they all managed to come up with a plan to get to the fair and not one person even mentioned it to me.
I’m hurt. Honestly, WHAT THE FUCK?
I feel like I am being dramatic. I mean, I cried over this shit. I hate crying over anything. It makes me feel weak. This really hurt.
I tried not to let it bug me. I try not to let them know it bugged me.
Did I do something? I am pretty sure I didn’t. Actually I know I didn’t.
So did i just slipped their mind? That doesn’t make me feel better.
Moving on…
Now my friend, Tamra, who didn’t go, tonight posts on Gillian’s (who did go tonight) about organizing another outing with all the girls. She even lists them in her status. Is there mention of me? nope.
And of course I would never comment on anyone’s status about this. I suffer in silence. I actually commented with “Woo hoo. Have fun!” When really I meant “Fuck you all.”
Facebook why are you causing me this pain? You are a stupid site that shouldn’t affect my life but you do.
At what point did I become someone not worth considering?
Typing this up, it all feels like silly, girl drama. I know that. I hate that I feel like I am 14 again, getting all insecure because my friends are hanging out with out me.
Growing up doesn’t change anything, I guess.
“I just don’t have time for a relationship”
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new “It’s not you, it’s me”. We have ”I just don’t have time for a relationship”.
After several date-like hang outs (yes, I have yet to find out if these are dates or not) with Brant, this is what it all came down to. He doesn’t have “time” for a girlfriend. Seriously? Then what are we doing here? You seem to have time for whatever this is.
And of course as a girl, I try and play it cool. “Yeah, totes, I’m not into labels anyway” chuckle chuckle chuckle. Please love me.
Needless to say we fizzled out after that. Maybe Brant is not the future husband I wanted him to be. Actually, he’s definitely not. Guess who, not even 2 months later, has a girlfriend?
That’s right. Good old Brant.
So in reality, he was saying he didn’t have time for me. Oh. Ok then. I think he thinks he was sparing my feelings, but in reality he just told me I wasn’t worth his time.
As bad as “I just don’t have time for a relationship” is, it’s not as bad as the excuse my friend, Jessica, got:
“I’m in to just being”
And she’s one of my gorgeous friend. So I guess it happens to all girls at one point or another.
Personally, I’m into just being… a future beauty queen. Just me.
Don’t Peak in High School.
Teenage girls, please don’t worry about being super popular in high school, or being the best actress in high school, or the best athlete. Not only do people not care about any of that the second you graduate, but when you get older, if you reference your successes in high school too much, it actually makes you look kind of pitiful, like some babbling old Tennessee Williams character with nothing going on in their current life. What I’ve noticed is that no one who was a big star in high school is also a big star later in life, except athletes. For us overlooked kids, it’s so wonderfully fair.
I was never the lead in the play. I don’t think I went to a single party with alcohol at it. No on shared pot with me. It wasn’t until I was sixteen that I even knew marijuana and pot were the same thing. My parents didn’t let me do social things on weeknights because weeknights were for homework, and maybe an an episode of The X-Files if I was being a good kid (X-Files was on Friday night), and on extremely rare occasions I could watch Seinfeld (Thursday, a school night), if I just aced my PSATs or something. I had a great time in high school, but it wasn’t the high school experience you seen on teen dramas, where people are in serious romantic relationships, and hanging out in parking lots or whatever (isn’t that loitering?). I had fun in my academic clubs, watching movies with my girlfriends, learning Latin, having long, protracted, unrequited crushes on older guys who didn’t know me, and yes, hanging out with my family. I liked hanging out with my family! Later, when you’re grown up, you realize you never get to hang out with your family. You pretty much only have eighteen years to spend with them full-time and that’s it. So yeah, it all added up to a happy, memorable time. Even though I was never a star.
Because I was largely ignored at school, I watched everyone like an observant weirdo, not unlike Eugene Levy’s character Dr. Allan Pearl, from Waiting for Guffman, who famously “sat next to the class clown, and studied him.” But I did that with everyone. It has helped me so much as a writer you have no idea.
I just want ambitious teenagers to know it is totally fine to be quiet, observant kids. Besides being a delight to your parents, you will find you have plenty of time later to catch up. So many people I worth with—famous actors, accomplish writers—were overlooked in high school. Be like Allan Pearl. Sit next to the class clown and study him. Then grow up, take everything you learn, and get paid to be a real-life class clown, unlike whatever unexciting thing the actual high school class clown is doing now. I think our class clown is doing marketing in Warwick, Connecticut.
—
An excerpt from Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me by Mindy Kaling
(via stamos)
This just made me want to read the book.
(via katelinnea)
(via katelinnea)
Was it? Or Wasn’t it?
I’m that person who never knows if they are on a date or not. Sounds silly, right? I mean, I should be able to decipher such a simple thing. Maybe I am just too daft to see the signs.
So, I always assume it’s not a date. Cause it tends to be with someone I am already friends with, so it could easily just be 2 friends hanging out. Right?
Ugh, I dont know.
Last night I went out with my future husband, crush, friend, Brant. He had tickets to see a friend’s band and invited me along. It was fun and all the signs of this being a date added up, but it just didnt feel date-y, ya know?
Its not for lack of chemistry, either. We work together and we are always chatting and flirting and having fun, so i dont know.
There is also another factor… Lindsay, my totally gorgeous guys gal best friend. She is the type of girl that all the guys have crushes on because she’s a beautiful blonde who loves football and fart jokes. Its unfair really.
Lindsay just broke up with her boyfriend and she and Brant are also good friends… though I think he’s secretly in love with her.
But I mean, he asked ME to go to the show with him. So that means something right?
Ugh, who knows? I will report back when things become clearer.
2011: The year I get smokin’ hot!
I went to the doctor today. Got all poked and prodded. Good times. Trying to get healthy, ya know?
I have my mind set on getting gastric bypass… problem is, I am not fat enough. But I like really want it. So I have put myself on a strict diet of cupcakes, taco bell, and cherry coke.
But then I did the math. If I go on weight watchers I could lose up to 3 pounds a week. Which means by my birthday in 27 weeks, I could be down 81 pounds. I would be so SKINNY!
All I have ever wanted was to be so skinny people suspected I had some glamourous eating disorder or drug habit. SO HOLLYWOOD.
Oh man, but gastric seemed like the dream ya know?
So… gastric or weight watchers?
I guess, for now, I will start with getting my teeth as white as Britney Spears’!
NIGHTNIGHT by DEDDY
