backyard crowing



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new hair, no date. marky mark's a moron.

I had my hair colored today at Alante by a guy named Jimmy, who did wonderfully. He was great, postively nice, and the cherry on the sundae was that he is now something like the fifth person who has told me I look like Kate Winslet. Granted, he's supposed to "flirt" and make me feel special because it's part of his job description, but I'm still happy about the comparison. :)

In other news, Mr. Negative, the Asshole, aka Marcus, cancelled on me. He wrote in a text message that "something came up." I acted like I didn't care by replying with,

Me: "That's ok. Another time then."
Him: "Yes, yes"
Me (about 15 min. later): "So what came up?"
Him: "Personal stuffs, nothing to be worried about"
Me: "That's fine. Best of luck"

Personal stuffs, eh? Fuck him. He once cancelled on making out with me because he had "a lot of laundry."

It's a friday night. I'm willing to bet he's out with some girl. Probably the girl he can't get out of his mind, while he is the guy I can't get out of my mind.

I'm pretty sure I never want to see him again.

And hello, but PERSONAL STUFFS? Personal stuffs my ass. Nothing is too personal to tell me, unless it has to do with him courting some other girl when he said he'd be out with me. It's fucking DATE NIGHT. That's part of why I picked tonight, so that the pseudo-date would be a bit more dateish.

I'm tempted now to make specific plans with him: I'd pick a day and a time and a place to meet, tell him to show up, and then I wouldn't show, or pick up my phone or text. He has wasted so much of my time it isn't even funny. Now I want to waste his.

But what I really want to do tonight is go out somewhere on a date with myself and run into him, with a date. Then I have every right to scream at him in public, slap him, make a scene, tell her she's with a complete asshole, and giver her my number so she can call me up to hear the many ways in which he is a fucking moron.

- friday, august 8, 2008
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