I am so unbelievably bored, omg.
I mean, with the exception of texting Franklin and chatting with Stephen, I am doing litchrally nothing.
And it is killing me
- I’ve been having really good days lately. I hope they last.
- He called me tonight while I was out driving around, to keep me company, and it was the highlight of my night.
- I discovered a 24 hour dunkin donuts in town, and best believe I got that shit tonight.
- I also bought a Thin Mints Nestle Crunch bar and just nommed on it.
- I think I came a little from the sheer joy of Thin Mints in my mouth.
- I start midnight shift in T-Minus 19 hours. So I’m staying up late tonight. We’ll see how that goes.
- I need to take a road trip soon. For reals. I’m thinking Maryland and Kentucky, with a stop in Tennessee. For starters.
- That’s all. Just a little update.
How is everyone this evening?
I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t be in an open relationship.
I couldn’t sit at home knowing he was out with someone else. Kissing someone else. Fucking someone else.
I’m too much of a jealous person. I’m too needy. I’m too clingy.
Monogamy is the only thing I can feel comfort in.
The mere thought of being with someone in an open relationship makes me sick to my stomach with…fear. I think that’s what it is, at least.
I couldn’t do it.
it’s a problem i know. but i’m working on it.
everything is a work-in-progress and i’m okay with that.
Exciting new collaboration on the horizon.
I am excited to flex my creative muscles again.
I’m really fucking tired of gay people being the butt of every goddamn joke on TV.
“I happen to love the gays, I could never get my hair to look this good without them.”
It’s this idea that permeates, that this is what gay people do. We do hair. We do fashion. We love musicals. We are catty. We have straight best girlfriends and we give them all the fashion advice.
I’m a human goddamn being, being gay is not my personality. Being gay is my sexuality. I’m not some trendy accessory for you carry along with you, and I am not the butt of all your fucking jokes.
Just…go the fuck away.
Holy hell work was insanely busy. Add my little to no sleep the past two nights…yeah, cranky Jon reared his ugly head.
Oh well, it’s over for a couple days. Hallelu.
How’s everyone’s Sunday been?
Two in a row are even worse.
One more day (12 hours only) and then I can rest.
For a day.
Looking forward to Friday. Mom and I spending a day down south. Ikea and Ben Siegel reptiles and who knows what else. Gonna be nice.
Off to dreamland. Bonne nuit!
Every waking moment is plagued with song after song after song. Sometimes it’s the same song for hours. Sometimes it’s multiple songs in a very short period of time.
Today it’s been a grand total of 3 songs.
Currently it’s Now and Then by Adele.
When I wake up in the middle of the night…there’s a song playing in my head. I don’t think I have a quiet moment, ever.
How many other people deal with this?
I am not planning on this surgery, this drastic move to lose weight, for any reason other than I want to be thinner. Plain and simple. I want to fit into clothes that aren’t made specifically for obese people. I want to be comfortable enough to take off my shirt at the beach. I want to be comfortable in my own skin. That is the only reason I am having this surgery.
But I’ve also spent my entire life alone, and chalked it up to “well, I’m fat. No wonder I’m alone. No one around here wants a fat boyfriend.”
So my concern is that I’ll lose the weight, be comfortable. Be confident…and still be alone. And once I’m thinner, what my excuse for being alone? I won’t have the old “fat” standby. It’ll just be me.
That’s what frightens me.
That’s all. Thank you for your kind words and your sincerity. I do appreciate it. More than anyone will ever know.
Little Borneo Blood pythons. Kinda strikey, but so beautiful.
Gonna be heading down to Ben Siegel Reptiles in a couple weeks. Mom and I are planning a day around it. Ben Siegel, Ikea, lunch. It’s gonna be a nice day. I can’t wait to be surrounded by all those reptiles!! Eee.
Nico took 4 hoppers last night. He’s all fat and happy. Should shed again soon. I love my little guy. I can’t wait until he’s old enough that I can get him a girlfriend. My little dinker baby. I just get the feeling that he’ll produce some gorgeous babies. I’m thinking starting with a Spider or Pastel female.
I need more room. Need to set up a proper rack for snakes.
Ahh hello new obsession.
I told her that it was very cost prohibitive [15k+], and she asked if my insurance would cover it. I told her I believed it would, if my doctor deemed it medically necessary.
She then put into my chart that she feels that surgical weight loss is in my best interest, and should be accepted by the insurance company to prevent my obesity causing a host of problems down the road, including diabetes and hypertension.
Something I’ve wanted for years may actually happen.
Maybe this is the reason I’m not supposed to go to Seattle right now.
I can’t even begin to describe my elation.
Clarification: When I say “weight loss surgery” I mean the Lap-Band procedure. Just fyi.
I hate this.
I hate feeling down. Depressed. Because when I am I yearn for positive attention. For people to praise me or tell me they love me or what have you. So I post about my feelings in the vain attempt to garner some affection from faceless Internet strangers.
But then when I’ve done that I feel guilty. Now I’ve once again forced my problems on the world. And I don’t want to burden anyone with my bullshit. But at the same time…I want to not feel so goddamn alone.
I would just appreciate it if the highs would stay high.
I’m tired of burdening everyone with my constant shit.
That is all.
On my agenda?
- Eat some more.
- Do nothing.
- Fap a couple times.
Yes. I like this.