Dear Jailbait:

You have to be out of your mind if you think I kept a fucking thing that belonged to Bob. Like I said, I took everything outside on the porch and changed the locks on the door. Bob didn't have to wait until midnight to get his stuff, he CHOSE to wait until midnight to get his stuff. I very clearly told him that it would be sitting outside waiting for him.

I did love him. I loved him more deeply then someone with your lack of spelling capability could ever know. But after a while, I began to see him as a fixer-upper. Someone who could change into a responsible adult if he'd just get some help with his finances and whatnot.

Stupid me. Thankfully his little tryst into statutory sent me into reality- that he won't change. At least not for me.

And I'm fine with that.

Furthermore, I could really give a shit about anything that you wrote in your "letter". Bob is in the past, and I'm not going to feel sorry for either one of you for anything that you may or may not be going through, say to each other, etc.

And finally, the last thing I want to do is turn Bob's family against him. I think he can do that well enough on his own. But if this is about me and Desiree still talking, she needs to be the one to tell me that she doesn't want to hang out with me.

I honestly think you're mistaken. It's not I that needs to get over him- the two of you need to get over me.

Now, the how to do that : first, delete this letter. Don't even think about replying.

and second- concentrate on your relationship with him, and don't drag me into it.

Dear Me: Again

Ok, so apparently, the previous letter wasn't from jailbait. Maybe his younger sister? Whatever. Anywho, I got a letter from the real jailbait. Save your criticisms for the end, k?

subject: i'm sorry.

i hate to say it but if you really loved him you wouldve nevr hurt him... u dont know how upset he was... i feel so bad for all this but u just had to move on sumtime... and you never will if you keep his stuff... i know that him bein so sweet to me and sayin the stuff he sez to me will prolly all fade... but he is just the best thing to happen to me... and i know it will be a while b4 he tells me he loves me... if he ever does... i know everytime i get in a relationship it always gets ruined when it is sed... like i sed i'm sorry... but u gotta let other people have a chance with him... if you loved him you would want him to be happy... not miserable... so yea i could be a bitch to ya cuz god knows i want to but i'm gunna be nice for his sake... please just stop tryin to turn his family against him... its wrong... and it hurts him and it hurts me to see him upset... have a nice life

Hopefully you'll get this one...

Anyway, you were really close to finding my blog. I really don't mind if you read it, because it's really nothing more than I'd told you already. 'Cept less sugar coated, I guess.

So, I'm just kind of in this weird place right now, because I'm thrown back to before, where I would spend so much time gushing to my friends about how much I really like you, and I really didn't get to see you. Yeah, me, gushing.

I'm trying to be good. I'm trying not to be silly and immature. Hell, even the "activly avoiding me" me jokes have no ill intent. Really!

I guess I just want to know where you are.

If there could be anything between us, if I just need to be patient.

If the whole age thing really does bother you, and I just need to back off (at least from the us-together-like-that direction...)

This is all part of my neurosis, you see. You told me before that you have these issues with you and women, well, guess what? So do I.

Er.
With men.

I have this fear of coming on too strong in the wrong way. (Because most guys like a woman to be strong in some ways...weaklings in others. fuckin' men.)

I crave honesty. I don't ask for anything from someone with whom I have interest except to be totally honest. Obviously, because of my last "big" romanticish situation, I'm not wanting to have to wait for a guy to think of how he feels, and I certainly don't want to walk on eggshells, holding back my words or feelings because I'm afraid of scaring someone off.

If you get scared off, maybe it's for the better.

But I really don't want it to be that way.

I won't keep the lighthouse forever, promise.

Yeah, we're gonna be under construction for a little while. Enjoy the pretty pictures.

NOW I'm done...

Took the German 1020 final yesterday. Ugh. I'm not really particularly looking forward to the results, but if I can just PASS, I'll be ok.

Nicht besonders gut.

The grades are supposed to be up by monday.

Ohh, for the God in Hollywood class, there is this final exam which is something of a scavenger hunt over the some-250 pages of handouts over the course. I finished it and e-mailed it to him on Tuesday. When I sent in the last papers, the subject line was "The last of it- I hope!" He e-mailed me back saying that I had to go over all of the quotes on all of the handouts and write how each one effects me, or something.

That was SO not on the syllabus.

He e-mailed me again (like, immediately) and said "nevermind, I just got your final exam."

Thank the frickin' lord.

By the way, sorry I haven't been around Richard. Busy bee!

Ohkay, so I THOUGHT I was done...

With my God in Hollywood Class... I thought there's one paper left- the big one. An overview of my feelings about this class blah blah.

Turns out, I only e-mailed the professor 5 papers (instead of 6) and I still have to write some kind of review over the book-of-the-movie that I read, which was The Last Temptation of Christ.

Which was long, difficult to understand, and even more difficult to follow.

Maybe because I was trying to read in on, like, no sleep.

I loved the concept of that story- that things weren't all hunky-dory for Jesus. That he had so much trouble dealing with his life amongst men, that he knew ultimately that he would be punished for others' sins, and almost to justify that, he begins making crosses for the Romans. (Something his town sees as atrocious.)

It was interesting, but I was really hoping that it was over with, so I can spend the next uh, day studying for the German final. Which is tomorrow.

Fortunatly, I do have until Friday to turn in the last of the last with God in Hollywood.

I really hope everything turns out, I've made an A on everything thus far and could really use an A tossed into my GPA...

Ohkay, I have to get this out.

This has been buggin' me.

This is Big's blog entry.

Here I am I now have a blog. I am a walking enigma. I like all kinds of music less country and am a total gamer ie trading cards, video games, online games. but I will normally drop these to talk to my girl. so there is an enigma in itself I will graduate college... eventually. why can't i be done yet? grr.

What is so enigmatic about a 23 year old loser who won't keep a job, refuses to shower on at least a semi-regular basis, gets wierd lap dance things from his little sister, and dates his little sister's jailbait friends?

Ugh.

Like he's so deep and intimate or something. Nein. He is not deep. He is cut from the same cloth of every scumbag. Dirty old fuck.

I need to start using men's predisposal to get it on with a younger chick to my advantage.

I love scotch. Since tonight is my last night of freedom before returning to the grind, I really wanna get some drinkage on.

Argh.

Tests today. Oral exam in German today.

In oh, about an hour and a half. Am I ready? Nein. Kinda playin' the Carrie Bradshaw season one role today, sitting front of my computer in bra and girly boxers, chain smoking, wondering if Aiden got my e-mail.

Am I doing it all over again?

Had a very nice conversation with the fan. But of course you know that, because you're the only one who reads this.. ;)

Riiiiiiiight....

I'm kinda tapped out of ideas right now. I'm gonna explore the more fun side of the internet for a little while. I'll let you know what I find...

Dear Whats-Her-Name

I didn't actually send this one back to her. Because I could give a shit. But my reader deserves a response, I feel.

I'm impressed. See, most men, it takes them at least a couple of weeks after you remove their meal ticket to see the light. I'm glad to know that Big had enough sense to not let you throw a pissy fit on my lawn, or in my home. (Which would have been tricky seeing is how I changed the locks earlier that afternoon.)

You have no idea the depth of pain that man has given me, and if a few of his items were lost or destroyed from sitting out on the porch for 9 hours unattended, that is far from my fault.

He had numerous opportunities to be a man, take his things, and move back home. He chose not to. He pushed his luck, and my hospitatlity.

He had numerous opportunities to tell me the truth about you, or that girl in Desi's class, or anyone that he'd been trying to hook up with. He chose not to.

Even when I read the blog and confronted him about you, he said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Honey, he denied your existence so that he wouldn't get in trouble with me!

Yes, some people have a great deal of growing up to do. Hopefully, when you do, it won't be because of the same harsh lessons that I had to learn from him.

Tschuss!

Dear Me:

This is the letter that I recieved from Whats-her-name. It's only slightly incoherant and she does that thing where she uses big words here and there to make herself seem more intellegent. Bravo!

No, this is not the original owner of this particular Blog. I have never figured out entirely how to work this, nor do I actually care to. I wanted to communicate with you, though, my emotions on life in general. Well, not in general "per se", just the ones concerning you.

I was one of the reinforcements recruited to help Bob move his things out of your apartment. That night, once I got off at midnight, I loaded myself into my car, and drove the hour drive to help him move. Upon arrival, "all" of his belongings were on your patio, along with a note saying, "Trash pick-up on side of building." We sorted through everything out there, and we did come up missing several things. (This is not the reason for this letter.) Over half the things on the porch were ruined, be it that they were broken whilst you threw them outside, or were soaked from where the fridge was turned upsidedown on the porch. (This, as well, is not the reason for my ranting.)

What HAS gotten under my skin is the fact that you threw all his things outside, and he would not let me retaliate. He stood by the fact that he was going to leave without harming you or your possessions any more than he already had. You call him childish, yet he has grown up so much in so little time.

The reason this gets under my skin is because my boyfriend left me (in an entry on his blog, none-the-less), telling me that I was too childish, and I needed to grow up. Three days later, I saw him making out with a girl almost four years younger than him.

My point is this: If someone uses the term "childish" in a negative fashion, or any relative of the word, my experiences tell me that they are the ones who need to grow up. Just so you know, I am included in this grouping. I seriously ned to grow up, too.

But what is live without that five-year-old peaking out?

Tenshi