Entries from August 2010 ↓

Bad Annie is afraid that, now that my neighbors have a newborn, they will recognize the sound of a human crying and realize how unhappy I’ve been.

I do understand why people keep diaries. I started this, in a way, to be able to post things I could’t post on Facebook. I keep FB very positive — it’s too public for me to want to be whiny or depressed or cranky.

It’s been very, very good for me to be able to post things honestly here. Yes, it’s a little compartmentalized — I don’t post much of the happy shiny updates here, any more than I post about breast cancer and suicides on FB. But having the outlet? it’s been a good thing.

So thank you, dear, gentle, imaginary reader.

I called my sister, but I didn’t say anything to her. Maybe I just needed to hear her talk. I certainly wasn’t ready to say it out loud. My best friend has breast cancer. My best friend from high school, that is. We only talk every year or two, but deep down, we both know we’re each others bff. I’ve known her since I was 12.

I only found out because she called to tell me Christa killed herself last week. A decade ago, she gave her kidney to Diane. Last week, she couldn’t find her way past her troubles. wtf.

the night before: airplane dreams, this one weird, like one of those old-fashioned fantasy chubby prop planes. We were barely able to get seats, typical dream confusion and rushing. It was at the top of the hill – needed, apparently, for us to get airborne.

then last night: mary and I have somehow stolen a police cruiser. we take it through a toll booth, slowly, another car to our side masking us, but then we can’t figure out if it’s okay to have run the toll. i can’t remember if we go back or not, but we end up out at phil and karen’s, the green house. they’re not there but stewart is, and tom m. from the old job (who, by the way, I barely know) is making me a steak dinner. mary and i can’t decide if it’s okay to leave the cruiser parked out front and go to move it, run into the neighbors who have kids. maybe we’ll put it in the garage next door instead, they’re not home.

oh, and somewhere in last night’s dream was the plane again. I remember thinking, that’s the plane from last night’s dream.

ex-boy tags along to the wine dinner with me. we actually saw each other a bunch last week. fine but whatever. now that i don’t want to fuck him i don’t really care.

anyway, we all got pretty drunk and shared a cab back downtown and he basically passed out in the cab so when the three of us got to my stop i relented and told him to come stay over ‘on the couch.’ we both knew he’d sleep in the bed with me but i could barely take the look on v’s face as it was.

so we go to bed, platonically, next to each other. right before we go to sleep, he actually says it out loud: i did love you, annie. you know i do.

and you know what? i wanted it to matter. i wanted it to make a difference. but i just don’t fucking care any more. too little, too late. and i know, truly, that even if it is true, he’s incapable of actually loving me. and i don’t want that, not even a little.

I am the girl who you text and say, I’m supposed to be behaving but there’s this girl who might want a 3-way…

My response: is she cute?

Turns out they weren’t looking for an immediate hook-up. Guess we’ll see. He did say she had nice tits.