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10-21-01 - 1:43 a.m. If you've never sat down and realized your life is completely pointless, I don't recommend doing so now. It really isn't great for the ol' self-esteem. However, being the genius that I am, that is exactly what I did this afternoon. Basically I'm a heart-breaking self-centered little girl with a sweet-ass car and a damn sexy pair of Hot Male Roommates. What I don't have is a purpose. I know I'm only 18 and there's time and I should be patient, but it's hard. I feel like everything I do is in vain and without reason. Why do I sleep around? To make myself feel worthwhile? Do I drink because I'm addicted or because I'm bored? Why am I bored? I have things I can do, and I'm not afraid to be seen somewhere without a date or a friend. "Cars on the highway, planes in the air. Everyone else is goin' somewhere. But I'm goin' nowhere, gettin' there soon..." �Fountains of Wayne, "Sink To The Bottom" I just don't get it. Why am I here? What am I supposed to accomplish? Rhetorical questions piss me off. And what's with all the nice guys in the world suddenly deciding to fall in love with me? If I were any other girl in this world, I would have smacked myself for saying that. Girls like nice boys. Girls should want nice boys to fall in love with them. I'm so damn weird. You know you're complex when you can't even figure yourself out. So I took Ricky to the Homecoming dance tonight. I helped him rip up an old suit jacket, dress shirt, and slacks, weave some foliage and hemp through random places on the outfit, and spike his hair with twigs and grass. I myself wound up looking like a 50� whore. I slashed up a long-sleeved black top and cut off one of the sleeves, ripped several huge slits in a dark teal skirt, made some holes in a pair of fishnet stockings, and spent 90 minutes crimping, curling, and teasing my hair, adorning it with leaves and flowers. I put on some of my favorite bright red lipstick, gave my eyes the "smoky" look, and put in my glow-in-the-dark tongue ring. I made myself a corsage out of hemp and a seashell and a matching boutonniere for Ricky. When we walked in, people stared at us like we were crazy. And hey, we sure looked it. He had on a slashed tie which I would later tie around my forehead. Man I sure do not miss high school dances. At least, not the ones at my high school. They play awful music (like the Backstreet Boys' "I Want It That Way"�good song, but completely non-danceable), they leave the lights on, they're always in the gym (except Prom and Winterball), you're not allowed to wear shoes so as not to scuff up the basketball courts, and if you dance closer than four inches together with your date, they will actually take a ruler to your and your date's stomachs and make you back up till you're exactly that distance from one another. I was shocked at how few people were there, but considering just how bad it was, I don't blame people for leaving. At one point during the dance, towards the end, I was dared to freak a security guard. So I did. Haley actually offered to pay me to do it. I told her she didn't need to pay me, but I should have taken her money anyway. God I can't deal with being so weak and stupid all the time. (Don't you just love how I jump from topic to topic?) Do I use men? And if so, for what? Sex is power and control, but it's also degradation and submission. In high school I used to seduce guys at parties just to prove I could. I always waited for the day when a guy would laugh at me, call me a stupid slut and a loser, maybe throw something in my face, and storm away, laughing at me. I would have like that. It would have embarrassed me, of course, but I know I would have loved it. I wanted Leif to not be interested in me sexually, but that didn't work out. Actually the only guy who's ever really said no to me is Rob. That's probably because he's a woman. Honestly, if you knew Rob's PMS-y mood swings, you'd agree. I'm just waiting for his hot flashes to begin, the old hag. So I drank tonight. Clearly, I didn't get drunk. I am able to keep my head until a certain point in my drinking where I lose it. After the dance I came home, ran to my secret stash, and chugged a bit. I'm so "cool" I have my vodka in a water bottle to hide it. I snuck vodka on a place once using that trick. I'm so lame I drink my own vodka on an airplane since I'm not allowed to order an $8 watered-down Bloody Mary. I dumped out my "secret stash." It's not worth it to have alcohol around the house. Not with me trying to sober up and Rob trying to work off last year's DUI. Rob called me a "Jezebel" the other day. He was joking�I think�I just hope he doesn't push me from a window.
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