| The exact reason why...... |
[Feb. 25th, 2006|01:55 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  crushed | ] |
Seeing Stu... my friends stepbrother, they live together. He brought home his exgirlfriend, we were all standing outside. My stomach felt funny, like I was going to get sick. It sucked. I couldnt tell if I was actually sad, or if it was the booze. But Im sure anyone in my shoes would feel crushed too. It really sucks. Its not like we really put a lable on him and I. So I cannot complain. SERIOUSLY this feelings thing sucks, I blame it on having real girlfriends now. They have so much drama, now I am one of them. But really who goes and sleeps with sopmeone you really get along with knowing that they still have the 5 year ex....... So from now going forward, I refuse to put myself in that postion ever again. Fuck that, having feelings is shitty. |
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| Im a Bastard |
[Feb. 6th, 2006|04:25 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  nauseated | ] |
For the last two days I havent even been able to stand my own self. I feel sick to my stomach with self hate. God sometimes I am such a fool. Where is the line?? I dunno.. but I dont think that trying to make it right is going to help. I think this was definatly a life lesson. I can tell cause I am consumed with this feeling that I only have when I make self realizations that change the way I am going forward. Maybe it doesnt all make sence, but I sure feel shitty. I know the feeling will go away, but I wish it could have happened sooner than this instance. Cause Id sure feel alot better if it was with someonelse. But at least now I know. |
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| (none) |
[Jan. 18th, 2006|03:44 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  amused | ] |
Well its been a while, but I wouldnt know the diffrence. eh. Well I did get to drive a $100,000 Mercedes on Monday. My old boss came over from Van to visit with me for the day, and guess what he pulls up in.. you guessed it a Brand New Shiney Silver Mercedes. I said, "hey let me drive" He agreed, and away we went. It was Super. Oh ya and I looked good that day too, so It was Perfect. I bet I looked so good driving that car. And he took me for lunch. I chose Ferris cause I just love that place soo much. And then we drove around for a while. Well I drove.. ahahahaha sweet. But then I came home and the Mercedes drove away and I felt like a regular girl again. So here I am, being all regular. You are right Jeremy Call Centers do suck absolutly. But youd be glad to know that they(my team) awarded me " Most Patronizing to the Customers" Cause I am way to sweet and use my words well to anger the customers in the most nicest way ever! Dirty Americans.. almost as bad as small children ewwwwww. Blah blah blah blah Bye |
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| Another one bites the dust |
[Dec. 8th, 2005|03:05 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | disappointed | ] |
I had to resort to an email to contact my "good friend".. who hasnt been returning my phone calls..Get a call back only to find out that he probably wasnt going to call me again! Can you believe that? When asked why he let me know that his feelings for me where more than he thought they would be, and knowing that I didnt feel the same screwed him up.. Jesus Christ.. This comming from somebody who knows better not to expect "relationship" ideas when I am involved.. again, Jesus Christ. So I lost another one, another friend who I could be myself around.. went and "screwed" it up.. Well I am only half to blame.. he knew better not to get feelings for me. Dont you agree? |
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| Giving in |
[Nov. 20th, 2005|03:55 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | cold | ] |
Well tonoght was almost a compete write off.... Not only did the cute guy not call me.... AT ALL.. I came home with a girl.. who is passing out on my couch.. with a bucket.... just in case... Hahah.. shes just a friend.. but still.. Tonight was a really wierd night. Jeremy, I know you dis-like the word " Random" But seriously tonight was one of those nights.. VERY RANDOM!!! Everyone I ran into had some sort of association with someone from my past.. seriously!!!! EVERYONE!! We even ended up at DENNYS.. and this gut who "RANDOMLY" sat with us plays rugby with my ex boyfriend.. That was only the end of my night the begining was filled with much, much more.. to tired to talk about it all right now.. But I will....... so strange.. terribly terribly strange.. Ill bet I even have a few more " Deanna Haters" now.. *evil laugh* OOPS!! haha |
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| Agony |
[Nov. 19th, 2005|06:02 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | grateful | ] |
So I am reading this book right now and I wanted to share a page of the book.. Its pretty intense.. I hope I dont get sued for copywritting.. I suppose Im not passing it off as my own, so here we go:
... There is anticipation. There is fear. There is no comfort.
The drill is back on and it is working through the fragment of my left front tooth. It is moving through a thinner more fragile section of bone, so it works quickly. It shoots the grit, makes the hole, penetrates. At the point of penetration, a current shoots through my body that is not pain, or even close to pain, but something infinietly greater.
Everything goes white and I cannot breathe. I clench my eyes and bite down on my exsisting teeth and I think my jaw might be breaking and I squeeze my hands and I dig my fingernails through the hard rubber surface of the tennis balls and my fingernails crack and my fingernails break and my fingernails start to bleed and I curl my toes and they fucking hurt and I flex the muscles in my legs and they fucking hurt and my torso tightens and my stomach muscles feels as if they're going to collapse and my ribs feel as though they are caving in on themselves and it fucking hurts and my balls are shrinking and the shrinking fucking hurts and my dick is hard because my blood hurts and my blood wants to to escape and is seeking exit through my dick and my dick fucking hurts and my arms are straining against the thick blue nylon straps and the thick blue nylon straps are cutting my flesh and it fucking hurts and my face is on fire and the veins in my neck want to explode and my brain is white and it is melting and it fucking hurts. There is a drill in my mouth. My brain is white and it feels as if it's fucking melting. I cannot breathe. Agony.
- So there you have it.. thank goodness I am not a Drug Addict, Alcoholic, Criminal.. who is sent to rehab and cant have ANY medication during a root cannal, and a couple of fillings.. Its a true story as well.. I thought that was interesting.. and yes that is the longest sentance ever.. But Thats how it was written.. Alright Bye for now!! |
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| Christmas shopping |
[Nov. 12th, 2005|11:38 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  devious | ] |
Almost going out the door, to do something I hate more, than any other activity I do.. yes its true.. shopping. Oh well Its not for me and oddly enough I like spending money on other people.. If its me spending the money on myself I will justify my reasons not too.. Im bringing the boy who likes me.. Its always fun to get good attention on a saturday so I though I would bring him along.. poor guy doesnt know whether to sit or stand when I come around. But even after the messsges hes left saying hes not calling me anymore.. he still does. So I should make a valiant attempt to be good. Ive giving it a good shot before.. but im not good at giving good shots.. I guess I have bad aim. Well Enjoy your day!! |
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| Poverty Sells Millions |
[Nov. 11th, 2005|08:44 pm] |
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I was watching this TV show tonight and it was showing all these poor skinny scraggly looking characters right off the nile river.. fetching water..and they were showing pictures taken by one of those big hearted granola journalist/photographer ladies. And then someonelse painted their perception of one specific piture.. of all these kids...Maybe its the pot but it got me thinking. And then I forgot. But im sure it was something real good. Hahaha. OOps one of those politically incorect days I suppose.. Probably something to do with working for americans. Their stupidity just sticks to me at the end of the day.. Kinda like a person who works at KFC.. all night when they get home is smell chicken. Gross. Thats kinda what my job is like.. Except I get to come home just a little bit more like a stuck up middle aged ignorant east coast parka wearing american.. with a blackberry. Thats right. And if you know me, you know it's scary.. yes scary of how close it is to the truth.. Sometimes I think I should have been american.. then at least Id have an excuse... Ahhh rudness.. to me it is the sound of children laughing.. playing in the snow... at the end of the driveway...Oops untill the snowplow came along....Scoooop.... hahahahahaha La la la la la . |
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| Soccer Moms |
[Nov. 8th, 2005|08:01 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | dirty | ] |
Driving around listening to some Old White Zombie, smoking some pot with a friend of mine. Remebering doing the exact thing years ago.. Talking about that with my friend, laughing... you know really enjoing ourselves. Talking about how times have changed slightly to benefit ourselves day to day. All of a sudden it was like the twlight zone. We we driving around Lansdown Highschool, and stuck in traffic. Two lanes.. all the cars around us were either new SUV's or the 4 door economical friendly Toyota Camrey... with children in them.. hords and hords of after school children. Skinny kids, fat kids.. all with their nicley done up mothers... Car seats.. ahhhh! It was horrible. I could feel the wrath of the parent door beating on me slightly with its " youve been naughty" stick. It was irritating. But I did see a small pleasure to giggle at. A Beaten up 4 door K car.. And I laughed.. Nope not even a dreamcatcher was in this baby... nope the rearview had long since fell off.. Two kids in the back fighting, while the mother was turning around to try and shut those smelly kids up with a ziplock bag full of dry cherios. Surrounded by all the rich soccer moms. And me and my friend listening to old White Zombie.. smoking a dubie.. How well this could all work out for me.. I feel I have so much to look forward to. How do you know when you reach that fork in the road.. ahhhhhh Which path shall I take.. The one I prefer to laugh generously about/at or the one where I prefer to laugh hystaricly about/at. Hmmmmmmmm |
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| Meeting up with an old friend |
[Nov. 8th, 2005|12:33 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  confused | ] |
Fuck this shit all up the ass Im sobering up, lets smoke some grass. Cause Im drinking with bitches who be gettin there riches off and old mans limp dick cause his wallets so thick. Sharing it with the butler, Cause he thinks that he can trust her. Nobody can trust that gold-diggin whore, she'll chew you up and leave you wanten more.. dumb dirrty dirrty whore.
Or maybe we should get down to SEATTLE. Thanks to the dirty state below the beautiful Island.. I knew that one good american cant be trusted.. Suprised he doesnt have a corporite logo stamped on his forehead. Better yet his all to typical DINK. doing all the talking for him. Thank goodness that didnt get anywhere near me.. Not sayin I wouldnt have minded.. Unfortunalty he had a hot body considering he was like 38 or 39.. But whatever experiance is key.. Plus he was a registerd massage therapist who works with personality disorders. Like hello.... free prescription Prozac.. Valume whatever the day may need.. Oh well back to my lonley bottle of vodka and all of my short lived dreams of become an american citizen... Opps I didnt mean that. Really id rather become a fat leasbian.... Heres the email he worte to me today to explain why we just cant be friends anymore.... and I copy and paste......
Hey Deanna, I'm sorry I have some shitty news to share with you. I appreciated all the e-mails you sent me, especially the most recent one. It completely split my sides, and the photos and Jeremy's quote was a nice touch, too. I have not been very upfront with you from the get-go, and I apologize for that. I should probably have called you to say this, but when I tell you the truth of my reality, you may understand why I didn't. When I was hanging out with you, you saw my ring and asked if I was married. I am not, but I do have a girlfriend that I've been with for three years, and this past week she saw our phone bill and asked me why I was calling Canada. I told her the truth, that I had met someone, and was overwhelmed by my attraction and got pulled away from the straight and narrow course my romantic life usually takes. She's very unhappy, as am I that I've hurt her (and now you I'm sure too). We think that we are going to try and work things out, but this means that I can no longer continue to disrespect her by continuing to write you. I'm sorry that I lied to you. I didn't mean to do so, but I really needed (and enjoyed) your company. That sounds completely pathetic, I know. I have selfishly used you, and you deserve better. You're very sweet, and I wish you well. If you care to bash me one last time by e-mail, feel free. I'll find a good therapist and work it out with them. Seriously. Lesson learned: I can not have my cake and eat it too. Goodbye, Don
I guess Im just a little homewreker.. Jeez somebody should write a song about me. Just the other week I saw my friend allen on the side of the road.. I pulled over, only to harass him about being with this girl that he was having troubles with . I made fun of him and the I sped off in my car and left him standing on the side of the road.. I thought it was funny. Although a few days later I felt bad.. which is something I dont do all that often, An I thought it would be a good Idea to write him a friendly email to appologize for my behaviour and let him know that Ill support any decision to be with her. And that he was my friend and I respect his decisons. I thought is was a well written letter and had a bunch of good meaning behind it...... Well The Girlfriend got to it before he did and didnt feel the same way I did about the letter. She took it as though we had "gotten together". oops totally untrue. Anyhow she reads the letter on a friday.. the thursday before she found out she was pregnant.. So she breaks up with him.. And now there fighting and my friend has no home..... Its like my dark following.. this weird luck I have.. So needless to say couples should stay away from me.. apparantly I attract breakups. |
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