save me

I needed a change of scenery from recitation hell (what I'm calling my dorm room till after 9am Monday) so I went over to the Apple Lab with Rae to work on my lit paper. Needless to say, after writing two pages and analyzing like 15 journal articles written by guys using really big words and really big terms that I've never heard of that I needed a cigarette (or three). Went outside and had one on the way back to hell and got some pretty sweet cotton mouth from it. As soon as I get back here, I grab the first (and only) water bottle from my frige. Unbegnounst to me...it's not a water bottle...it's a happy bottle. Happy meaning vodka put in a water bottle so it's socially acceptable for me to bring to class or sit out on the quad with...created especially for those days when being sober just isnt going to cut it. Except I wasn't so happy when I chugged half of it before realizing it wasn't water. Shit.

After debating for all of three minutes what to do about the approximatly six shots I had just unknowingly bequeathed upon myself, I ended up running to the bathroom and sticking my fingers down my throat. I know I said I wouldn't do that anymore but I have a lot of work to do tomorrow...I have to study some more for my recitation and I have to get a rough draft of at least 8 pages out to my lit prof (meaning I have 6 more to write...). I really can't afford to be hungover or even slightly out of my mind. I just don't have time. And I figure, after doing it constantly for six years after everything I put in my body I can't do much more harm to my self.

So after the deed was done (so to speak) I went back to look in my frige for another waterbottle and...whoops...I'm out. Forgot to add it to the list of things to get from Giant Eagle. And all I had in my frige (beverage-wise) are vodka, Mike's Hards, Malibu, some Coronas and half a gallon of soy milk. Alright, I theoretically could have drank some of my soy milk...but I really only like it in my coffee and not to drink just for hydration purposes. This left me in a bit of a dilemma as how to get rid of the nasty cotton mouth plus now barf vibe out off my breath.

Thankfully my hallmate, Jeff, was online. Such a nice guy, he is, he wouldn't object to giving a friend in need a waterbottle. After his affirmative answer via AIM, I ran up two flights of stairs to grab it. Such a good Jeff, that child is. Always taking care of me. Anyways, I explained the situation to him and he instantly paled. Apparantly he had always assumed about my bit of an obsession with Mia and Ana but had never confronted me about it. While neither confirming or denying the goddess' presence in my life, I inquired about what would make him think I was an Ed-child. Jeff rattled off a list of things ranging from my depression (which I like to think of as my cynicism, fuck you very much!) to my obsession with my appearance and the appearance of those around me. From said occourances, he felt it was appropriate to assume that I'm a member of a special little group known as the spawn of the goddesses.

This bothers me for a few reasons:

1. What right does Jeff think he has to assume somthing like that about me. Let's pretend that I didn't have a past with those sorts of things. How would you feel if someone told you they though you had an issue? Not so fantastic, right? Yeah, didn't think so.

2. I don't show that kind of flaw to the world...or at least I didn't think that I did. If he can figure it out, can other people I'm friends with? Can my professers? Can my potential employers or my coworkers?

3. That part of me is really private. This year was the first year that I've been able to admit it to myself that I have an issue with the goddess' control over my life. I cant even say that I have a problem with Ana or Mia. It feels like betrayal to two things that have been the only things to remain constant within my life. I don't want someone who I'm not that close with knowing (or thinking he knows) all about me because he happened to stumble upon two details of my life.

4. I don't want him (or anyone else for that matter) to define me by two elements of my past. I am more than the child of Ana or the child of Mia.

But, I mean, there's not much I can do about it now that he knows. Hopefully he'll have some decency and not display it to the entire campus. People talk enough shit anyways.

Oh...earlier I totally splurged and bought new Molskine notebooks. I'm running a little low in the one I use just for poetry and with the one I use just for prompts and observations I'm almost at the point where I'd need a new one and the one I do my sketches and prose in I'm going to need a new one pretty soon. So I went out and got three more. Yay. But also though, on my little shopping expadition, I got a really cute black tank top with really tiny white pokadots on it. It's a cami with a rouched princess seamed bodace but it's not trashy which is always a plus. And I figure, since it's not that low cut I can wear it to work during the summer with a cardigan over it. And I also snagged this white halter. It's super cute...it has a red scalloped trim and little cherrys all over it. I definatly won't be wearing it to work but I diserve something nice for myself. Somthing cutsey, just a feel-good top for the beach this summer or when I'm hanging out with people.

Ugh. I don't even care if Jeff tells people. It's not like they can't assume shit on their own to begin with. I'm just glad that I won't be here in two weeks. But then, I'll have to deal with a whole different set of people talking crap about me.

I LOVE how people never grow up. Ever.

Shitheads.