12/27/2005 - 12:08 a.m. | thorns and shit

God bless those meds, I just had my first real freakout at Missy's antics. Hung up her, threw the phone across the room, let it ring for a good 20 minutes. It felt good. Of course, you don't know the issue yet, do you? That's the issue right there, isn't it? That there is any goddamned problem at all.

Of course it's about the party. I don't know how every little thing, even supposedly fun things like a big New Year's party with a bunch of old friends, suddenly becomes a huge problem worthy of discussion and debate and stressing. So, somehow we finally both put our plans on the table today and found that they don't entirely sync up. Seems she planned on me returning to Champaign on Wednesday, so that she could do the same, whereas I figured on staying here until pretty much New Year's itself, as I am still trying to make something up to my parents. So suddenly she's crying and I'm trying to think of alternatives and it's just the same old thing we always deal with. So I chucked the phone across the room. We live far apart. I get it. Must this be the defining characteristic of our relationship?

So we got into it, and I let some of my grievances air, about how I never feel relaxed around her in situations like that and how she can be so desperate for my attention sometimes and how she changes the way I act and on and on and on... and she says she's sorry and she says she's aware now and that she'll try, but I don't believe her. I mean, she will, I'm sure, but her trials will even keep me on edge. I just imagine her being all deliberate and pointed and somehow passive-aggressive, and I'm sitting here worrying about it, worrying and scheming and planning, and it just pisses me off. This is supposed to be enjoyable! I am still at that stage in life. Awkward parties come later. I should not be on edge like this, not now, not for things like this. I should be thinking about who I am mostly likely to score an HJ from. Sigh, I wish I were single... once again. What a goddamned stupid cycle.

Anyway, there's no reason I can't go on with my little bout of influenza. In fact, it might only add realism. If I was super-willing and suddenly struck ill, she might seem suspicious. Then again, now that she knows I am less than willing, perhaps she will be on the lookout for trickery. Lord, I don't have the brain for this.

It's actually to the point now (where I've stretched it out) that she's just like, "Just tell me what you want me to do." And I know what I want her to do. Don't come, and I will visit you some other time to make up for it. But lord, will I ever get the cajones to just say it? That's all I would have to do. No elaborate scams or attempted concern at her well-being. Just flat out dump on her feelings a little bit. But I just can't do it. Ah! - pussy.

Meanwhile, remember those ab devices that sent electricity into your abs to improve them somehow? Whatever happened to them? Did they not work or did they actually end up murdering people? Well, whatever. I'ma track that shit down on eBay, buy 'bout 20. So what if it doesn't work? What a fucking stupid masochistic device to wear around the streets, am I right? I'll be biking to class, tumbling over because AbZapper was set 20 watts to high or something. Crash into a bush.