This is another oldie from about two years ago...
I don't know why the gods above frown on me, but it's as if they REALLY really RRRRRRRREAAALLY get a kick out of my pain. For example...I'm in the library. A quiet haven, right? WRONG. There is a delightfully loud young lady sitting at the computer adjacent to mine talking wildly into her cell phone.
At least speak clearly so I can EAVES drop you bitch.
But really.
So I'm doing online math....which I find a complete and utter waste of my time. First of all, we have no paper work in my class, so if you don't understand something, you're kind of SOL. Then, the computer basically walks you through the online homework. Come test day, there's no funky fresh guide on a computer screen telling me how to graph a piece-wise function.
WTF.
It's as if they WANT you to fail here in college. Which is entirely possible. Why else would each teacher treat their class as if it were your only class? What? A twelve-page paper a week, PLUS analyze the synaptic tendencies of the Madagascar cockroach? Why not, I say. I mean, I only have three other papers, ten books (aside from my textbook) to read, and sixteen journal entries, and my left ovary all due next Tuesday.
And they charge you a fresh $16,000 a year to do this. Loooove it. But hey, we're getting off cheap, here.
I digress. College is quite an experience. It's the only place where a walk of shame is something to be proud of, where you can write that weird thing you did last night with your roommate off as 'normal college-life experimentation' , and where it's perfectly acceptable, if not preferable to drink beer for breakfast.
**side note** I do NOT have beer for breakfast, lunch, OR dinner. Nor will I ever condone such an action. However...mimosas are ok ;-)
Did I tell anyone about my recent relationship fiasco? No? Well here it is:
So I was dating this guy, Brandon. We had known each other a couple days before he asked me to be his girlfriend. I really needed a rebound, so I thought 'Why not?' BAAAAAAAAAD idea on my part. He was a total skeeze always needed a ride somewhere or something blah blah blah. After two weeks of dating, he said 'I love you'.
UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
So I broke up with him. I didn't, nor would I ever love this kid. (I say kid, but he was 27). But we kept talking and hanging out because...well...I had nothing better to do.
So he has this best friend, Becky. She's really nice. She's staying with him while her and her boyfriend fight apparently. Well, ok whatever. So we all three hang out, we all hang out in a big group blah blah blah. (Keep in mind I don't do public displays of affection).
So I get bored and stop talking to him. He calls me up out of NOwhere crying so I go over there. There's a bunch of people I don't know milling around, and he won't tell me what's wrong.
So I go up to Becky and ask her.
Oh dear me.
She says: "I don't know what Brandon't told you, but he and I are together and have been for six years. I have no idea what your relationship is to him, but he told me you all were friends."
UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Jigga what??!?
Ha. Oh dear me.
Well, apparently she was pregnant with someone else's kid, hence his crying. Well, -I- start crying because I think 'OMG I just helped some jerk face cheat on his girlfriend'. Not to mention, she is so nice and cute I felt awful.
Well she was all like, 'It's not your fault don't feel bad, it's been going on for years etc etc.'
So I haul it out of there because
a) that's just a trashy situation that I really don't want any part of (b) had I stayed much longer I probably would have killed someone and (c) I had a party to get ready for :-P
So yeah. What irks me is that I'm not mad at him because I'm HURT (I had no feelings at this point) It's more because I was lied to and fell for it AGAIN.
I mean REALLY??!?! Shouldn't there be a quota to how many times a girl can be LIED TO?!?!?!
Ha. But really.
So that's my funny omg story of the month. Tune in next time where Lori may or may not die by killer mustache.
XOXO
You know you love me ;-)
No comments:
Post a Comment