mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- here i stand, sad and free I met yet another boy through my stupid ad on bust.com. First, there was Trent, the rude jackass who didn't even warrant an entry. He wrote me first, we conversed via AIM, blah, blah, blah, and eventually, we met for breakfast at a local bar/restaurant. Actually, it was the restaurant that I worked at for three years, so our entire meal was comped. Trent, that jerk, didn't even leave a TIP. I wanted to murder him. That was the last time we ever spoke. Josh was the second boy that I met from that particular ad, and although he was really nice, he was kind of... stiff. Oh, and incredibly nerdy. Nerdier than me. Nerdy like the guys that go to Star Trek conventions IN COSTUME. A few months after our two semi-fun, semi-awkward dates, a friend called me and demanded that I pick up a copy of the Las Vegas Weekly. I did, and lo! Josh had written an article all about his experiences with "internet dating," in which he described me as the twenty year old equivalent of the Crazy Cat Lady, and "annoyingly nice." Yeah, apparently, I'm so goddamned nice that it actually bothered him. Sigh. Last, there was Tony, who was the coolest of the three, and probably one of the coolest people that I've ever met, period. Tony and I still write to each other, and occasionally, we talk on the phone. I'm hoping that our friendship will last at least until he becomes a famous rockstar, so I can start charging him for friendship services rendered. (Oh, hey, if you're a hot babe from Southern California, and if you think you could possibly be awesome enough for Tony, scribble something in the guestbook and I'll give him your email address. Because I'm a good friend. Oh, and I'm pretty sure that this will earn me brownie points and possibly a hunk of that hot dago booty. You reading this, Tony?) Anyhow, later tonight, a boy named Patrick (who is the perfect mix of nerdy and cool and completely unaware of either) may be stopping by to keep me company on the graveyard shift. THAT was the point of this entry, and while I would love to elaborate on it, I don't feel like writing anymore. Oh, and this week, I spent over $70 on fucking COMIC BOOKS. Thanks, Tony, really. When I'm in debt, I'll owe it all to you and your evil influence on me. 1:39 p.m. - 2003-04-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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