mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I'm Really Dead This Time Tomorrow night, I am going out on a date. Yeah, we met through the stupid personals ad that I posted last week. His name is Josh, he's a writer, and he seems perfectly nice and normal aside from the fact that he really likes the band Metallica. Oh, and I already told him of my complete and undying hatred for Metallica, so I am assuming that he will not play them during the car ride. Oh, and Josh has long hair. And I'm a sucker for long haired boys. I think it's because Matt had such lovely long hair when we met. It was curly and dark and soft and I must stop remembering Matt's hair now. Besides, he's practically bald these days. I think he cuts it with a Flowbee. Anyhow, date tomorrow night. That means that come morning the last few droplets of self esteem left in me will ooze out onto the carpet. My vocabulary will be reduced to about ten words, give or take. Oh, and I will somehow manage to get even fatter in the hour before Josh arrives, and my face will break out and my hair will turn greasy, too. Don't you just love first dates? My fried Crystal just messaged me. I'm not going to respond. Lately I've been getting the feeling that I'm just her back-up friend. She calls me, yeah, but she never invites me anywhere or wants to do anything with me. Since I am too immature to come right out and ask her what's going on, I am just going to ignore her until she either figures it out or goes away. No, I dont like that method, but it's all I've got. Anyhow, I estimate that I'll need about three weeks worth of beauty sleep before I feel good enough to go on this date, so I'd better get cracking. 12:28 a.m. - 2002-09-18 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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