I just had to jump out of Spiderman's window

Because his MOM showed up at his house and knocked at the door and announced herself RIGHT after we had .....well you know. The one thing I'm not talking about on this thing is my sex life. Luckily for all of us I was fully clothed and he lives on the first floor of his building otherwise I would have been screwed. Or dead. Or both.

Man, you know when you start to write something that you think's going to be funny and then just can't finish it? Let's just sum this up with me getting caught. Her yelling "You can come out HB, I know you're here. I love you." Then I had to give her a cigarette.

The end.

PSA -- while jumping out of a window, first assess what is on the ground below it. If it is a thorny prickly bush, scout for other options.

Why do I even do this?

I'm in the throes of self-pity right now, so you all will have to excuse me. Spidey is making me feel like I'm at his house too often, that I'm in the way, that I need to have something other to do than be with him. I doubt that he even reads this, he has more important things to do than to read my stupid ass blog. Or so I presume. Right now it feels to me that the only purpose I serve to him is to be there, but only when he wants me to be. This has happened before, with Julian.

This isn't directed solely at the person in question, but has anyone else noticed just how fucking self-centered men are? That they only want you to ask questions when it's convenient for them? That they only want your input on something,...well, never? Or when it serves their purpose?

Am I blowing things out of proportion? I'm sure that I am, I have a lot of hangups about these things. Still doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. Right now he's in his room learing the NIN version of "Hurt" from my CD. I meant to leave as soon as I dropped him off, after I had gathered up the rest of my things (he asked me to get all my stuff together and put it all in his room, does that sound like he's pushing me into a corner or am I being too sensitive?), but I wanted to check my blog, even though it doesn't have a tracker, just to see if anyone had left a comment, no one had of course, I guess because my audience is like two.

I guess I'll talk to you both later.

Open Letter to the Pretentious Soul Sucking Bastard From Hell.

Hello, Pretentious Soul Sucking Bastard From Hell,

Boy, that's a long name, we'll just call you PSB for short, how about that? Oh, wait, why am I asking, because honestly I don't give a shit what you think.

So, it's been a year since you almost ruined my life. I hope that you're miserable and still living in your mommy's basement. It's certainly what you deserve. Actually, you deserve worse, so I hope karma finally caught up with you, you lying asshole.

How have I been? Fan-fucking-tastic. I'm dating someone who loves me for me and doesn't call me fat or try to hurt me. That was you by the way, in case you suddenly developed amnesia like you did every single fucking time you did it. I still hate you. That I can't shake. I wish I could, but it's like a cancer, I've been in remission for a while now, but every once in a while I have a relapse of simple and complete hatred. You've been gone an entire year now, and about this time last year I was a suicidal mess, thank you for that. It proved to me that I am stronger without you, or anyone for that matter. I still need people (Spidey, I love you), but I'm strong and resilient and I don't take anyone's shit, and that is all because of you, motherfucker.

You're pathetic, you know that, you alcoholic piece of shit? I hope by now you have driven off anyone you have ever loved, I'm pretty sure that you're capable of doing that as well. I'm pretty much convinced that you're a sociopath and a lying sack of shit (also known as a compulsive liar), and you called me crazy? Take a look in the mirror, asshole, because that's the crazy one. Crazy people are the ones who like guns and lie about everything and hurt their girlfriends who they're taking advantage of by trying to live free off of them. Notice that I said trying, you only left when it became apparant that I wasn't going to let you live with me for free. God, I hate you.

I love my boyfriend. I'm happy. I have my painting. I have school. I have work. I'm a busy person, and this time it's not just to forget about you, but because I do things I love.

You on the otherhand, are probably still sitting on your sofa, writing pointless code and draining your parents dry of love and money. You are not capable of loving anyone but yourself. I'm glad that I've realized that, you fucking Narcissist.

It's been great not talking to you, let's do this more often.
sincerely,
the person that hates you most in the world, Hell's Belle

sick, sick, sick

I hate being sick and I know that many of you have requested that I post a non-negative post every once in a while but this will not be it. I cannot shoot sunshine and flowers out of my ass for you at this very moment. Why does eveyone think that I HAVE to be positive, maybe, just maybe in this world there exist a few of us non-positive, surly, combative people who just are like that and can't be outwardly happy all the freaking time. No offense, yo, but I'm getting kind of tired of people telling me to "just be happy" don't you think that if I could I would? Do you think I enjoy being like this? No. That is your answer, no, I do not enjoy being like this and I would greatly appreciate it if all the sally sunshines in the world would jump directly off my back and leave me alone with it. I bitch on here because it is a way for me to vent in a healthy manner. Would you rather I run people down with my car at the sority dorm? Or in the parking lot at the grocery store? No, I didn't think you would. I love the people who have told me this time and again, but I. Am. Not. Sally. Sunshine. and I never will be, so stop trying to force it.

why I changed the name of my blog

because I had ganked the name from an all female AC/DC cover band without knowing it. Oops.

I'm tired and I'm going home. Thank Jeebus for sleep.

on the phone with Kaboom

"I lost my virginity on star wars sheets" "He lived on the second floor of gardner, I'm going to have to find a way to break into that room" "We used to go hiking and smoke pot" "I like A words, they're great" "I might hate you, but I'm OK with that" Want to know where all that came from? a Conversation with Kaboom. She was a little drunk and a little freaked out because she goes to Virginia Tech and we all know what happened there today so give here a little leeway, ok? I promised not to talk about that time she puked on me, so I won't. If you read this and don't already know the story then you're never going to get the details, sorry, I'm sick of repeating it. Actually I'm just sick, which is what is going to make this such a short blog. Running a fever, coughing, runny nose, the works so I'm cranky times one, then there's "the time of the month" which makes me cranky times two, and all of you who know me know that right now is not the most pleasant time to be around me. Whatever. YOU deal with it because I don't feel like it. Spiderman is doing a considerably great job dealing with it, but he has a considerably larger amount of patience with me than anyone else on this planet. By now anyone else would have just shot me. I'm high on cough syrup and theraflu and I still have to do a paper and by now I've probably pissed Kaboom off by quoting bits of our conversation on the internets. Oh well, if she likes it I'll leave it up, if she doesn't I may consider taking it down. I love her and all of her weird random funniness. Don't be mad Kaboom.

Now I have to go make up a paper for a class tomorrow. I have about three sentences of it done.

PSA for the day: If you have a really expensive car and the wind is blowing really hard don't park under a tree that is leaning over already because the ground is saturated, move it because the fucking tree may fall on it.

I think I may have made a huge mistake

I bought spiderman an x-box from a pawnshop for his birthday. And now he and I both are addicted to it. It's after three in the morning and we're still playing (well, he's playing and I'm blogging without him knowing it.:)) This thing will suck the brain straight out of your head. Anyway, I've had about two Sparks so I'm not only buzzed but also a little jazzed to be alive right now.

Here's a secret. I'm staying the night at Spiderman's house. Does that mean I'm going to hell? I guess it's too late to worry about that anyway. I intend to convert to catholicism and get eternal forgiveness on my deathbed anyway so I guess it doesn't matter.

Ready for your PSA? If you're at work and it's really busy and there's only one other person there to run the cash register to sell all the rednecks their beer, now is probably not the time to simultaneously piss your coworker off by talking on your damn cell phone but also to not do your job. thank you, I'll be here all week, try the veal.

laters.

One more thing....

Does anyone read this?

What is LOVE???

Scared you there for a minute didn't I? You know I don't talk about that kind of shit, so step off bitches.

Things to bitch about today:
1: I am so tired that I don't want to move much less go to work
2: I am so tired I don't want to go to work
3: I just don't want to go to work
4: I have produced a total of two papers and taken two exams in the last four days. I hate school.
5: I have until April 15 to decide if I want to stay in my fully furnished, very tiny, allows pets shithole of an apartment. This is a very difficult decision for me.
6: I have no money and the Feds are holding out on me until tomorrow.
7: I want to go to the climbing wall but I have doubts that I have the energy to strap on the harness (drag it out of the gutter) much less scale a hundred foot wall
8: I have an incurable craving for food, which I can't buy until the Feds come through with the dollas.
9: My nose hurts and my foot is asleep'
10: I have to ride the bus home.


There's more, shall I continue? I don't think so, I may go take a nap in a chair in the library until my next class starts.

PSA for the day: If you're planning on taking the bus to school, leave your house before it's supposed to get to your stop. That makes things wayyyy easier.

yeah, I know it's been a while

I've been busy. Leave me alone. As for pictures of the reunion I don't have any, so don't ask.

So, Sunday morning Tommy Lee (and you know who you are) woke me up and wanted me to go to breakfast. Generally, I don't get out of bed until at least eleven, but for some reason this rockstar person who was staying at my mom's house with me and had, for reasons unknown emerged from Kurt's house unscathed (unlike me who is STILL covered in bruises. believe me when I tell you that it took some explaining to the boyfriend. And really the only reason I have them to begin with is because I fell down something like a million times) was Perky. Perky. I don't do perky. Perky and I are not friends. Perky can blow me. So, on the basis of that I decline and sit in the recliner at mom's and drink coffee until they come back to la casa to collect Tommy's things. I'm rambling aren't I? Whatev. Anyway, I get back to Boone to my wonderful boyfriend Spiderman (it's another inside joke, just go with it ok?) I take a nap. I go get him at work, I stay up so late I sleep through ALL of my classes on Monday. Fun, huh? Goes to show that responsibility does not come with age.

So, here I am back in Boone, blogging again for the first time in a month about absolutley nothing. I'm sitting at job number two doing this while I should be doing an outline on my Napoleon and Josephine paper that's due......tomorrow but I just don't have it in me. School Sucks. No, you all don't understand. It sucks more than anything. It sucks more than having a full bird Colonel throw a stapler at you. It sucks worse than traffic in Atlanta. It sucks worse than George Bush (and that's a whole lot of sucking, I'm pretty sure that if you stopped right now and pulled your Ipod earbud out of your ear you could actually hear the sound of the sucking coming from the general direction of DC.)

The reunion was suprisingly fun. Things change, people change, Michelle gets lit like a freaking firecracker so some things DON'T change, but whatever again. I do have one thing to say though, and those of you who are former classmates that read this, or if anyone reads this for that matter...DUSTIN JONES CAN BLOW ME. Thank you, have a great night.