suicide is painless

So another one bites the dust. I just found out that a friend is engaged. I am so happy for him, I think he is a great guy and she is an awesome girl, but at the same time.... son of a bitch! I can't help but think about a year ago when that was something that I was consciously thinking about. The reason for the Suicide title, is because every time I think about another set of friends getting married, I think of my parents, and how my dad the joker had the theme from MASH played at the wedding... you know, how getting married is taking the plunge or whatever. My dad has a sick sense of humor, I realise.

There are a lot of things that have put me into a bit of a funk. Funk might not be the word, but more wallowing depression of self-loathing and melancholy.

I brought it on myself, I don't blame any one for that. I had taken the proper precautions to not feel like this, so what do I do? At the first opportunity, I go and fuck it up and go against what every fibre in my body is telling me not to do. It is so annoying. And I WISH I could not be as self-acutalised and blame someone else, but alas.

I guess let this be a lesson to me.

The thing that really honks my horn is not the fact that Michael has a new girlfriend or whatever. In fact, I am happy for him (which trust me, has taken a LOT for me to admit to myself). I think he if can find someone to put up with him, then all the better for him. I think it is sort of defeating the puropse of his whole "discovering who I am" and "learning to stand on my own" sort of thing, but that is none of my business. It is none of my concern and doesn't involve me, so I will keep my opinion to myself. He is an adult and can make up his own mind and his own decisions, so good for him.

But.

When I STUPIDLY looked at his facebook profile, I saw something that sent me into such a blind rage that it can only be described as a conniption. It was like someone had prision shived me in the stomach and all my blood had rushed to the floor.

The mother fucking gypsy was wearing my hat.

MY HAT. Of ALLLLL the fucking people for him to lend MY HAT to, he had to give it to her.

I know it sounds insane. I am getting better with it. I mean, it's not like I gave him that stuff and was like "oh, but don't let anyone else touch it!!" for all intensive purposes, that stuff is his. And, again, I can't be that mad about it, but jesus christ! Maybe if there wasn't photographic proof of it! (Serenity now, Keeks... deep breath...) (It's just a hat, it's just a hat....) (sigh) (who knows, it might not even BE my hat. maybe I am just jumping to conclusions)

This is why I took him off of my facebook. Nevermind.

So anyways, I got pretty depressed afterwards. I blew off all of my friends and bought a new Simpson's DVD set and went to bed at 9pm. I ate popcorn and talked to my cat, and basically walked around in a daze, trying in vain to shake myself of the feeling of inadequacy that prevailed the entire weekend.

Upside though, I went to Ikea with Jeni and Missie and had a pretty good time. I bought a new duvet cover which served it's purpose as I burrowed beneath it until Monday.

I know I should knock it off. I know that things aren't that bad. In fact, I know things are really really good. I like someone else! I think he likes me, or at least is CURIOUS, and that's awesome! I shouldn't even be thinking about Michael!

Sometimes it just feels good to pout.