So it comes down to this.

So I've had THE discussion with two of my dearest friends. Apparently, my drinking has reached an unmanageable level. I'm not sure why I am just now realizing this. I mean, I've blown through two $1,500 student loan checks and about 5 paychecks.

It shouldn't be this fucking hard. I shouldn't be that person. I shouldn't need help to stop drinking. I should just be able to put the bottle down and walk away from it. I'm going to try it because frankly, I've not just tried that approach. It's going to suck. I am going to be bored.

Yeah, I fucked up and called him in the wee hours of the morning.

I need to leave it alone. I will never again be right with him and he will never again be the man with whom I fell in love. It's futile and ignorant.

Three AM and feelin' good.

I am drunk and I am blogging. Get over it!

1. I have decided that pants are an unnecessary burden. Therefore, I will not be wearing them in situations that will not get me arrested.

2. I was happier when I was miserable. So SUE ME. I don't give a shit. You'll end up with a broken dog and an autographed copy of "The Outsiders." Whatever.

3. I just really felt like writing tonight. Facebook is getting on my damned nerves. With a blog, you're pretty much forced to read it. You can't just run through and say, "OH! I liked the first part of that. Let me push the convenient LIKE button." It doesn't work like that. At all.

Bah enough numbering.

I had a date this evening. I would love to do a restaurant review, but IDK how the fuck to do that so I will just sum it up.

Our waiter was a douchebag. He showed up twice and was only attentive once the bill came. Too bad for him because my date is an excellent tipper. The food was excellent with the exception of the bread. I could have cracked someone's dome with it. The house dressing was phenomenal. It was an Italian vinaigrette, but it was in no way typical. It was a balance of kalamata olives and fresh garlic that for damn sure didn't come from a bottle. My Chicken Amafali was perfectly cooked and I tasted only the slightest hint of lemons and capers (Hence the description "LIGHT LEMON CREAM SAUCE.") The red peppers were blackened on one side which made them chewy and great. I guess his was good. The presentation on it was horrible, but what else could I expect for Shrimp Alfredo. The Tuscan Margarita was a little strong and a touch too sweet, but I am not at all complaining. It was my fault for ordering a traditionally Mexican drink at an Italian joint. My date had beer. You really can't eff up a Budweiser so whatever on that.

He's a nice guy. This wasn't a brand new thing. I've pretty much blown him off more times than I should have. I get scared...Scratch that: Terrified when anyone that isn't Marcus comes around. Which leads me to point #2 above.

I am not content. The date was wonderful, but I can't help but think that I would rather be miserable with Marcus than happy with anyone else. It's pitiful, pathetic, stupid, etc... But I cannot change the way I feel. I am still not going to speak to him. I can't. That would ruin every damn thing I have done so far. Plus, I am waiting on HIM to figure out that he fucked up. NOT ME. I didn't fuck up.
Fuck him.

So I say.

I'm an idiot for thinking that I will ever be that happy again and I know it.

I am fine. I know I am fine. I am perfectly okay alone and doing whatever the fuck I want. I do not need Marcus to define me. Grrr...Now if only I can convince myself.

Goodbye, Frienemy.

If I wanted to bicker and argue everyday about stupid shit, I would still talk to Marcus.

If I wanted someone to judge me based on my appearance, I would listen to my family.

If I wanted to compete for every man I come across, I'd be friends with you.

I am done with this mess. I am 26. You're 23. I am short. You are tall. I am pretty. You're...well, I don't know what you are, but I know I look better. ha

I'm tired of this shit. You know? You're immature, you're selfish, you're spoiled.

Get a real job. Find yourself. Leave me alone.

I was out of line tonight and I know that. I shouldn't have swung, but I did. Too late now and I don't regret it. You deserve everything you get.

Virtual death? I am okay with my virtual life. I just want everyone in real life to think I've died.

It is all bullshit. Marcus is a liar. Elizabeth is a flake. Anthony, MY GOD, he's a lying flake.

But maybe Elizabeth is right. Maybe after busting my ass to bring my GPA from a 1.4 to a CUMULATIVE 3.08, I still won't be shit. Maybe I will always be defined by my past mistakes. Maybe it IS me that fucked up with Marcus.

I am just lost. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be friendless, but with friends like this...

I HAVE real friends. It is not that. It is the fact that their all married and in relationships with children...I am bitching, yes, but fucking shit fuck damn bob saget, this is not cool... I feel like I am not getting through to anyone. My grandmother is generally the only person that gets me, but she's worried about me getting robbed and beat up. Wow. Am I really that confusing?

"Sometimes it feels that the heart is no place to be singing from at all."

I'm writing today for no other reason than I have been thinking about it all day. I don't have a lot to say, but felt compelled to write nonetheless.

I picked up a book today not related to classes. It feels weird. It feels as if I am slacking and not doing something. I love Walter Mosley. The Long Fall is his first Leonid McGill mystery. It is good, but I am rarely let down by Walter Mosley (except of course Killing Johnny Fry. That was terrible.)

I finally bought an LSAT book and a GRE Literature book. I just can't seem to make myself use them. I know that I'll be taking both tests sometime next year, but SHIT. School is wearing me the hell out. I also know that volunteer work needs to be done before I even think about applying to either school. My CUMULATIVE GPA is a 3.08. That pisses me off because my retention GPA is a 3.6. That 3.08 looks terrible when applying to other schools.

Finally talked to Evil Bastard. I didn't want to talk to him, but my better judgment went out the door when my car overheated. He's not discussing the lease with me. He's not discussing anything but car issues at this point. I'm not sure why he feels that avoidance is the answer. Five years of avoiding the issues and it has gotten us nowhere.

This is so different for me. I would love to say that I don't love him, but I still do. I just feel different. I know that no matter what has ever happened between us, I'm still in the same sinking ship. I don't want to live my life like that.

I've just been depressed this week. I know I promised a sunnier, more optimistic blog, but fuckall, I just don't have it in me currently.