12/22/2005 - 4:19 a.m. | why don't you show me the little bit of spine you've been saving for his mattress, love?

I thought my little scheme had backfired on me. Here I was, alone at last (and a day before I'd actually intended to go home - hoho), and nobody was gonna fucking be around to entertain me. Smacko, long gone. Kyle and Shelly, leaving. Spritz, with Jen (so good as gone). Dank in Texas, Allison in the LMV, who the fuck else do I know. I was thinking maybe I should just go home after all. Well, luckily, Satan has started rewarding some of my deeds (Finally realized we're on the same team, eh, old chap?), and Shelly, Kyle, and Spritz stuck around for one more night of beers and video games and awful, awful Van Helsing (Honestly, film producers, one is not supposed to look to episodes of "Xena: Warrior Princess" as examples of quality production values / storylines / acting... that is just not how it is done).

Actually, it turned out pretty damn awesome, for (in addition to the badger hair toothbrush and the somehow scarier-still "jasmin mint" purple Italian toothpaste they got me for Christmas), Kyle used his recent windfall to surprise us all with dinner at Miko! And for once, by "windfall," I do not mean, "new credit card approval." Kyle, if you'll recall, worked for all of like two weeks at Hollister, somehow earning him, years later, a fairly huge chunk of change in the People of Asia v. Abercrombie & Fitch lawsuit. How big of an earning? Three thousand dollars, motherfuckers! That is one crazy big stroke of luck, which puts all my blind gambling and robot dancing to shame. Wordy tonight, eh?

Anyway, we had our food made in front of us on one of those fancy-to-stupid-people grill tables by this awkward little man who was forced to interact with us. Bad jokes, terrible magic tricks, the whole lot. Kyle tried his hand at spatula-based egg tossing (with more success than you might expect), and I was about as stupidly impressed with the big fire and onion volcanoes as I was supposed to be. It was an excellent way to end the semester - and not just because I didn't have to tap into my last 60 bucks either.

Here's a good one: almost immediately after Missy went out the door, Kyle and Shelly cornered me to more or less tell me how terrible she is. No no, seriously, this is a good thing. In part. I'd always hoped my friends would come forth and tell me if I got myself trapped in one of those soul-sucking relationships without realizing it. Apparently I have. It seems it is bad, though. It wasn't just that I wasn't making my usual shithead callous un-PC offensive remarks (so as not to start issues with her), or that I had no idea I was doing this at all until they pointed out the marked change in behavior. It seems that they feel like I do around, uh, roughly every one of Spritz's girlfriends ever. Can't talk for fear of offending her (and her oh-so liberal senstivities), can't have fun, can't make the usual jokes, etc. Basically lose the whole person as you know them in the first place. Scary the things you start to miss, huh? They were even like, "So is there any way she can't make it to the New Years party?" MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY. I actually meant to write a brief entry about that - how all these people are going to be here, but I won't even be myself around them because she is so intent on monopolizing my time. And I can completely forget about the fun little half-flirtation Susan D. Rick and I have going on... But there's nothing I can think of that isn't a flat out horrible lie, or the truth, which is far worse. "I'm sorry, Miss, but you are far less important to me than a group of my friends and our own time together without your psycho machinations."

...which pretty much leads us to the big overall problem. Now that I know that not all of my qualms are in my head, the general consensus is that we need to break up. I mean, again, when I stop and think about it, all my worse nightmares seem to be coming true. I have an obsessive, oppressive girlfriend who is intent on following me regardless of her own needs or future, etc. I kept telling myself, "Wait until you're both closer together. See what things are like when time, distance, and money aren't such factors in your relationship. Maybe things will seem better." Or, "Go see a therapist. Sort out the issues you have with relationships and commitment and shit, and maybe then you'll be ready for the real thing..." But that's all little more than a stall for time, isn't it? In my heart of hearts I really don't feel like we'll work out, and now something needs to be done about it. But oh lord, am I really right this time? Last time I thought I was, and then I just felt like hell... was that just the idea of being alone? We went out with my parents last week, and my mom was like, "Hold onto that girl. She's a peach." She actually called her a peach. Well, this peach has gone rotten, I think. She said something to me the other night - I've been sitting here trying to remember it for the life of me, and I should be able to... because it was so absolutely terrifying. Some request. Something along the lines of getting me to send her one little love note or message a day, a tiny grand gesture each day, I think, and I remember lying next to her and mentall screaming (OH GOD THIS IS IT) even as I looked in her eyes and nodded. No no no no nononononono.

I am trying to think about this rationally, really I am, but it's really hard to do that when she sends me an e-mail with a line like, "I saw you on as I sunk lower and said Hi then you logged off." AH YOU STALKER I turned my computer on for like a minute while I was taking a dump, and there she was, waiting.

Problem is, I've got just as little ground to stand on this time... "Why do you want to break up?" Well, uh... I need space. "500 miles isn't enough?" I'm just not sure we're right for each other. "How can you tell until we're really together?" Plus, it's not like there isn't precedent for this. I'd be surprised if she doesn't cite Seasonal Affective Disorder or some shit. I wish I could just cut her off, you know? Change my number, new AIM names, and just kind of vanish into the ether with the other billions of people on this planet. But she would just drive right on out here and hunt me down, and it'd still be down to me to break it off with her.

I wish my mind were a little video recorder that you could see. I don't feel like I could ever present a clear enough case on my own. If you could just see what I see and hear our day to day conversations and how I can't say anything and how so many things piss her off and how much she much she pokes around for my love and attention... maybe you could tell me which one of us was crazy. Lord, I need to talk to somebody.

Longer entries to come.