keys to the ivy league

ATTN: parts of the following blog have been removed to protect my dignity. Therefore, it doesn't make sense. I only kept parts that sounded cool or insightful. =P

so I drank some tonight. at a wasted pointless party. I hate getting my hopes up. I don’t get it. I don’t get anything. should I start at the beginning? I guess that’s a good place to start.

there’s a cute boy i know. to me. not to you. you’d think he was nasty. but he reminds me of my ex-boyfriend. not like, a replacement. just that kind of type of guy. I can’t help but fall for them.

you get the point.

then opportunity arises! as it always does. at least opportunity is reliable.

my cute boy. well not “my” cute boy. I just wish he was. I’m fairly certain that I will never be able to call this boy “my” boy, and that depresses me. life just lets you down sometimes.

trust me, I was in cloud nine, whatever the fuck that reference even means. I don’t know. there are so many obscure phrases in the English language. why are we so fucked up?!?

unfortunately, here I am. not a happy person. so you know things didn’t turn out the way I planned. they never do. I never win. at anything. every dog has his day, so where’s mine and why is it taking so long? everything just ends up fucked up for me. I think it’s time that something goes right. I’m waiting. and my patience is going out the damn window. what is wrong with the world?

so I don’t get it. I don’t get drunkenness.

to continue the letdowns that are my life, today it snowed. being from a southern state, I haven’t had much experience with snow at all. so today was freaking exciting. I had my first snowball fight. I left said snowball fight early to go to this party. it was for some organization that “uninterested-cute-boy” was a part of, and was expected to be in attendance. that’s the only reason I went. I didn’t go because it was the only place to get alcohol tonight; I didn’t go because an ex-hookup was there and I was interested in some replay. I went solely because that one guy was supposed to be there. so I leave my incredibly fun friends and the snow to change into other clothes and trek by myself all the way to some party on the sixth floor of some dorm at 12:30 in the morning. and what do you know? the boy wasn’t feeling good, and wasn’t going to be showing up. so I went for nothing. I did get alcohol. and I did get drunk. and I did see my ex-hookup there hooking up with some other girl, that slimy sleazeball.

I was freaking ego crushed, yes. that seems to be a popular theme here. I’m always getting my ego stomped on. I mean, it’s not very big to begin with. I rarely ever think I have a chance with anyone. this place has killed any semblance of self esteem I ever had. I always feel ugly, and fat, oh so fat, and never good enough in comparison to everyone else. and these boys I’m dealing with don’t help me one bit. they’re just making me feel worse and worse about myself. will I ever get a guy again? ugh.

so the guy I’m digging wasn’t at the party, so here I am, after the party, sobering up by myself in a cold cold bed, typing this from the depths of my soul. I’m so frustrated with the whole system. fuck the system. I want to actually have a chance with someone. I want someone to actually be interested in me. please help my floundering curb-stomped ego before it disappears completely. I just want success for once. it’s bad enough that any chance I’d have for an a this semester is blown out the window as I struggle for b’s even. so I can’t get success in academics. and I can’t even get success in the bedroom. I’m not even all about sex. kissing, I was totally fine with kissing. but I can’t even seem to get that anymore.

I’m so goddamn pathetic.

I guess there’s nothing to do but wait. I hope I’m not “that girl”. ever wonder if you’re “that girl”? like, I hope I’m not that annoying one who constantly tries to get with you and you just humor her to get her away but you really think she’s just fat, ugly, and annoying and you’d really like her to leave you alone so you don’t respond to her attempts at communication, but she’s not getting the hint? I could very well possibly be “that girl.” see, I told you this place has ruined my self image. so now I’ll just wait and see.

this whole damn semester can be defined by a j-curve. it’s probably the only damn thing I’ve learned this semester as well, probably because it so keenly applied to my life. it’s about raising and increasing expectations, and then having the results come out far lower than you expected, which leads to peasant uprising and civil unrest and anger and revolution. well, I’m not uprising anytime soon, but the results have consistently been far lower than the expectations. the solution may be to lower my expectations to match the output, you might say. but the thing is, I’ve already lower them. this is pretty damn low on the scale. I rarely ever even have expectations. I normally envision the worst happening, and then if they are better than the worst, they feel all the more sweeter. so that wouldn’t solve me. my expectations are already as low as they go. I just need some sort of goodness to happen. please. I’m waiting. begging.

still waiting. nothing yet.

nothing to be done.