This Entry is So Freaking Sulky I Can't Stand It.

The candy certainly doesn't bug me. The snarking with friends about the holiday doesn't bug me. The going to see Romeo and Juliet doesn't bug me. Dancing on a 12' by 16' stage in a parking lot at 11:30 in the morning in February doesn't even bug me. What gets me is seeing couples walking around holding hands in all those places and realizing that the one boy who likes me is just a little bit psycho. It all reminds me of how much I really would like a tall, scruffy-haired, musically-inclined, nearly-perfect boy to walk up to me and say something like...hmm. How about, "You are wonderful and amazing, let's go hold hands and kiss and act the way that used to make make you gag or feel a little sad when you saw other people acting that way, until you met ME, Super Perfect Boy." Yeah. That would be fantastic.

Blah blah blah, same old thing. Insert Valentine's-Day-Induced-Depression Entry here.

I love that Josh has the whole season of Gilmore Girls taped for a rainy day, and that he layed the verbal smackdown on PsychoBitch ballet teacher before anyone else. I'll spare you, but she threw a fit the other night and is most definitely gone for good. Sooner rather than later.

I'm not feeling my best today. And I think I need to start drinking coffee in the morning. The weeks seem to be going by quickly, though. But something strange is happening. I keep having these weird flashebacks of summer. Today in economics, I thought of barbecue chicken and iced tea. In the middle of algebra the other day, I thought about Nicole's wedding and Miami. (That one is really bad. I can remember the view from the hotel balcony perfectly; and the rehearsal dinner when Steve's friend asked me how old I was and creeped me out a little; and the salon where everyone spoke Spanish and the little girl came in to get chewing gum cut out of her hair; and sitting in Nicole's suite watching her get ready, feeling inadequate and completely wonderful at the same time.) I'll be thinking about gymnosperms and angiosperms and out of nowhere I'm stuck rocking my baby cousin Xavier back and forth in a pool in Florida for an hour while he sleeps. It's not like I'm sitting around sulking about these things, they just pop up. It's getting kind of...chronic. And it's really not any fun.

Just a few more months, I'll make it. I'm off to bed. This weekend I'll be back with tales of parking lot stages and the Fox theater, so, whee. 'Night.

2004-02-12 @ 11:10 p.m.

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