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The Girl
Sarah. Nineteen. In College. Clarion Univ. PA. Boyfriend. In Love. Hottness. Clever. Witty. Trouble. Good Time.
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These are my words. My life chillaxin' in webspace. Feel free to read, feel free to not. That's about it when it comes to a disclaimer. Over it! Haha.
Then the fucking fucker told me to fuck off.
...written on 2006-06-18, at 5:37 p.m.
I don't like when my boyfriend tries to make me out to be an ass in front of his friends or family.
I don't appreciate the way it makes me look when he says to me "You're embarassing yourself right now" because he broke a promise and I'm trying to joke about it.
I don't understand why suddenly, when he's in a bad mood I have to suffer because he doesn't have time to deal with me, and he'll make sure the world knows. The problem is that the world tends to think I'm doing something ridiculous and annoying when he says "I don't have time to deal with you right now!"
This is no good. No good at all. I feel like I could kill him right now. Or worse, leave him for someone else. And there aren't any good options as of right now either.
I need a job. Fucking Progressive Publications. Fucking new kitten. Fucking bored, worthless life.