May 4th, 2009

I've just created this blog and now I feel even more pretentious than when I created my wordpress blog (http://dirtyfilthythings.wordpress.com). I don't know why. I'm supposed to be working, but I've taken a break to write dirty messages to my friend Melissa, and to stalk my friend Elle's blog http://elleetpeter.blogspot.com/. She's beautiful and I miss her. Had my brother not died last september, I would have been in europe with her on her adventures. Drinking, speaking in tongues, and doing copius amounts of blow off of elaborately decorated old world table tops. The life of a study abroad student.

I've realized this past week that there is something innate in me that makes me hate the world when things become easy. Maybe it's because unattainable dreams are what hold my person together. Maybe I don't want any of the things that I think I want. I want a hot, sweet boyfriend, I get one and I don't want it anymore. I want the house, my father tells me I have a trust fund for one now, and I don't want the fucking house. I'm a spoiled brat. I know it.

My hand is infected. "Will you still be friends with me if I can't clap?" I asked my friend Gareth. he says he will, but I think he's lying. It's my own fault if I have to have my arm cut off, I shouldn't have punched anyone to begin with. He asked me to, and then he started to deserve it though. His teeth cut my knuckles open. I'm blaming the infection on shoddy dentistry, for the love of god mate, use Listerine next time! My hand looks like it doesn't have knuckles, it's a big oozy mess.

My brother almost died from a cat bite a month before he died from suffocation. He was 23. He died from drinking and taking Valium. It was six months ago. That's it.

I'm reading the history of hell, and listening to a mix that an ex made me. I still like that ex, but I shouldn't because part of me thinks he's a total shit. He does things like avoids me, then, gets wasted and pulls me into the work fridge to tell me that he cares for me and that if my current boyfriend does anything to hurt me, he will kill him. And he repeated "kill him" ten or so times. Funny to have someone who hurts people, who hurt me, tell me that he will kill someone else for hurting me. Clearly, he has the monopoly of making me uncomfortable.

My boyfriend wears dresses. And likes boys.

The other night at the club more gay men than I could count came up to me to apologize for eye fucking my boyfriend. I told them not to worry, they can "fuck fuck" him after we're finished dating..."if he wants to" I added. I'm not possessive, maybe I should be?

I leave for Italy in September. I'm scared that when I come back everything will be different, but it's Salt Lake and nothing here ever fucking changes. I like that about SL.

Back to work.