The only thing I'm insanely good at in life is making a big, disaster-like mess out of good things. The opposite of King Midas, if you will.

I have enough money to escape for a good amount of time and I'm seriously considering it.

My tum hurts in a way that is all too familiar and I don't like it.

I haven't felt healthy in a month.

I feel like an idiot.. dancing, singing, swaying to Lucero covering Jawbreaker's "Kissed the Bottle." Slurring, screaming, trying to sing each word like a goddamn idiot. If I knew then what I know now.. I would have been quiet, humble, appreciative. I kissed the bottle, I should've been kissing you. You're 33 and a makeout whore. I hope you're escapades with Jack, Jose, and Captain mean more. I'll never triumph over alcohol's alluring trap. I'm not proud enough to try and not stupid enough to hope. In a lopsided competition, I'm throwing up a white flag.

.. a year in the past, forever in the future.

Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of our first date. I can't say I haven't been dramatically thinking of it, daydreaming if you will, trying to hastily remember the day. Your Craigslist Missed Connection to me jogged my memory and it'd be a lie to say I didn't fight back tears while reading it. A sweet gesture, but a shallow and empty one at that. Too little, too late. That's an understatement if I've ever seen.. it's more like much too little, and much too late, in the very least.

I'm not so sure if I'll ever again feel the way I did about you with someone else and that is a double-edged sword in the broadest sense. I've never been so attracted, intrigued and immersed in someone as I was with you. On the contrary, I've never wanted, wished, hoped and even prayed for the implosion of someone's life and well being as I did for you. I've never wanted to smash a bottle and stab the tiniest shards deep into the innards of a throat more than I have wished to do to you, making sure each piece had no way of escaping.. sort of like all the painful memories of being mistreated, abused, taken advantage of and belittled. My only saving grace within this train of thought is that I know, for sure, someone will love me more than you did. And I know, for sure, I'll embrace it with my whole being.. the way I've always done.

My memories of you have become vacant and distant. For awhile, I relentlessly saw you everywhere, figuratively, of course. As much as it was nice to reminisce of cliche good times, it was also painful that certain songs, city views and jokes harbored you within them.. between the melodies, grids of houses and bellowing laughter. As time progresses, I now realize that I'm starting to forget you in a very good way. Truth be told, I scarcely remember you. Ryan Adams' menacing voice and choruses keep my solo drives company and fill my small suv with memories of the SouthWest. The beautiful view of Buffalo from my roof is no longer screaming of you.. instead, it echoes of good times with even better friends. Jokes, well, certain jokes can't be replaced.. but, in all honesty, you've become the biggest one.

So much has drastically changed in a year. What a shitstorm. What a whirlwind of emotions. I can't say I've ever felt so broken, battered, torn and down.. but in the same sense, I feel like I'm the tiniest bit stronger. Just a tiny bit, nothing elaborate or completely life altering or devastatingly wonderful. Nothing of that sort at all. Yet. Just a little bit stronger, and that's okay. I suppose it's more than okay.

Lessons learned. Tough lessons learned.

I'm entirely grateful for leaving 99.9% of my baggage scattered throughout Nevada.. strewn about Utah.. littered in Colorado and moderately displaced between every state and the New York state line. I feel like this is the end and a great beginning is upon every horizon I decide to view. Best feeling ever.

Buffalo sucks. I see Joe everywhere. Not literally, but figuratively.. I don't know which is worse. He ruined me. I realized I can't be the fun drunk without tagging along the angry/bitter/dramatic drunk. Drinking used to be one of my favorite social things.. now it's ruined and just something I dread because I'll get bummed and pissy. I guess this is when I realize drinking isn't for me and I should be playing Scrabble in Delaware Park. I'm glad I have friends that encourage such behavior, but at the same time I'm irate for him taking that one vice from me.

Oh well. I need to get over this. I thought a trip out west would cure me of such ailments, but as every state passed I grew sicker and sicker.. filling up with the vacant feeling of home. I don't really have a home. Apparently, my home was a desolate, cold, empty apartment with an empty fridge. What's home about that? I think Ohio would be a nice home. I mean, yes, I would be living with my parents and succumbing to the twenty-something defeat. But, in all realty, I'd be so much closer to nailing a great job and finishing school. I'd feel a little loved, which is a significant step up from not loved at all.

I recently lost my best friend and I'm a little okay with it. Guy best friends are never best friends when they want to sleep with you. Especially when they want to do it as a notch on their belt.. a trophy, if you will. I did it once, and lesson learned. Never ever ever again. Whoa is me, but then again, I'm a fool for thinking otherwise. Lessons learned, lessons learned.

I feel a little like I don't have friends anymore. I've been pulling teeth for emotions and "how are you's" and "what's wrong" and I'm slightly exhausted. I kind of want to rebuttle with "fuck you's" and "fine be miserables" but that's rude. But I'm literally exhausted. Completely exhausted. For the first time in my life, I'm eagerly anticipating school so I can hibernate surrounded by professionally written text books and good grades and the furious scramble of Fall semester and not give a fuck about anyone but myself.. for once.

I can't stomach being here for much longer. He ruined me. I've never felt so angry or broken. I feel like no one wants to hear it and I understand that.. but I also feel like.. fuck, where do you turn then?

Every song I hear that reminds me of him makes me sick to my stomach. Every memory, every smell, every inside joke.. I'm sick.

I hope this cross-country road trip with Court pans out because I need it to at least feel a little bit sane.

I wish I never burned my bridges with Scott. I want to take that all back and I've never known the feeling of someone being completely done with me until him. I wish I could convince him otherwise.

I wish my mind wasn't such a jumbled mess of hurt and anger and complete and utter brokenness. Furthermore, I wish I was my old self. I have never been the one to be negative and lately I've only been seeing red.

So you threaten to ruin my life if I even talk to your friends.. but you're going for a "guys weekend" with one of my good friends. A friend that would literally kill you if he knew what you did to me. A friend I was too embarrassed to tell of how you pushed me around, stalked me, harassed me and basically broke me down to nothing. You're fucked up. And maybe he's a little fucked up, too, after I told him you weren't a good person and he still pursues a friendship with you.

I wish Nick was here. He's the only person I really trust lately.

Sometimes I wonder how many more of these encounters I have to stomach before I reach the real thing. I don't like meandering the streets of Buffalo and seeing 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon of my sexual past. I need to cool my jets, be more selective, blah blah blah. I just need something solid that isn't going to kiss the back of my head while I pretend to sleep.. yet never text/call me again.

I wish people were more up front. When directly asked, I am entirely 100% up front about absolutely anything.

Tonight I felt okay. Good, even. Amazing, possibly. I came home and shittalked and chainsmoked with Nick and was great. No sneaking boys in. No awkward morning afters. Just me. And Pete. And Nick.

I don't want to move out of this apartment. Come August 31st I literally have no home. Nick is moving in with Jon and I'm alone. As much as I want a cute little apartment, I'd rather have what I have now. I just don't like change. Lacey found a beautiful dog for me and I just need someone to watch it for 2 months while I ride out this lease. A cane corso. A fabulous watch dog/companion that I could probably ride to the corner store if I was too lazy. What a beast. I wish my life would just fall into place like a Connect 4 board game. Oh blah.

In less than 3 weeks I will be driving from Las Vegas to Buffalo. I hope I don't come back. I know I always dramatically say that, but I mean it. I want to be left in some hobunk town wearing cowboy boots and eating at greasy spoon diners forever. Buffalo just doesn't feel the same much anymore. Actually, I'm not sure what it's supposed to feel like. Hm, I just don't think this.

It could be so much better than this. It could be so much better.

Lately, I've felt like it's my brother and I against the world. No one is there to stick up for us as Joe keeps on with the vicious attacks. Now that Mark got involved, I feel awful. Joe beat him in the head with a u-lock. A fucking u-lock. He brought a u-lock to a fist fight and that speaks volumes about his lack of integrity.

I hope he dies. And, no, I really do. Maybe if someone treated your sister/mother/family/friends like that you'd feel the same way. Please don't judge until you've walked a mile in my shoes.

I can't wait to celebrate Father's Day. I wish my heart was as small as his.. I would definitely mail him a Father's Day present with a card attached saying "Glad I kept you from being a father. Your non-existent child is thanking me." He's a poor excuse for a human being and, for the first time in 6 months, I don't regret my decision one bit. Not one bit.

I feel like I'm being chased out of Buffalo. I'm going to stay with my parents for awhile.

XXX - Haha pretty funny words. But I care about you so don't let weird creeps lower your hot chick real estate value.


.. Definitely well put. Definitely true. Definitely some good advice I need to preach and practice.

I've never been in such a weird, odd, what the fuck state of happiness.

I feel like a fucking prisoner in my own city. Every time Joe gets mad that I refuse to talk to him on the phone he threatens to make up an awful lie to tell one of my friends so that they'll hate me. I'm scared that one time, they'll believe it, they'll believe him.. and get mad at me. He's so fucking manipulative it makes me sick. I truly want him to just leave me alone. I try ignoring him all day, but after 200+ text messages, it's hard. I don't want to change my phone number, but I might have to.

I'm terrified to see him out. Absolutely terrified. Who knows.. he's so fucking bi-polar that he could cry because he missed me or pick up a fucking beer bottle and throw it in my face. I really don't want to find out which one.

I wish I never ever dated him. Ever. He broke my fucking heart by acting like a psycho. He basically broke up with me. I always said that if anyone broke my heart, I'd never fucking talk to them again. I want him the fuck out of my life so bad. I don't care how good he's doing at his new job, how in shape he is, how well counseling is going, how much money he has saved up.. you can put a tie on a bag of garbage, but it'll still be a bag of garbage.

I hope he lures another helpless person into his fucking crazy web and she breaks his goddamn heart into a million pieces by being horribly mean, degrading, insulting and abusive to him.

I hope I'll be done talking about this someday soon. FUCK.

A few days ago, a high school friend of mine passed away from a heroin overdose. I mean, a preventable death.. yes.. but a brutal one, at that. No one wishes that on someone. I mean, in an ideal world Jeff VanVonderen would come and saved the day.

But I started thinking. People only say really nice things about you when you pass away. Unfortunately, not many of us are around to hear the really fortunate praises of goodhearted individuals.

Imagine, if someone's Facebook status was optimistically praising a good friend for just.. being a good friend.

It gets you thinking. It gets me wondering. And, ultimately, it makes me kind of sad.

Nights like this make me really miss Joe. Why do I even miss him? It's hard to say when someone puts you through so much hell and you start to think.. hell wasn't soooo bad. I mean, not what you pictured it. Not what you anticipated/dreaded/feared it would be. Nowhere even near. It's scary to think that I could live through hell. Hell, that'd I'd even be okay living in it. Oh goodness, maybe I just need a distraction to make hell less enticing.

I definitely can't condone his actions. I feel horribly awful for the girls who were put through the same things. Something tells me I'm stronger than all combined and a fraction of me finds comfort in that. On the other hand, the other pie piece of me wonders how much I could endure.

A giant part of my being would love nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die. Or hibernate until I am 80 and have good stories to tell my grandkids. I just don't really have an urge to experience much anymore. I don't really have an urge to live out those stories. Bea Arthur died today and so did my fucking zest for life.

I got fired from the Thruway yesterday and instantly thought of that FML website. You know, where people write witty events that occur in their day to day routine and then write "FML" after it. Such a good punchline. Except, I think I should just get FML tattooed on my forehead. It's much more appropriate.

All of these life changes are happening way too fast. I've been wondering when I'm going to just breakdown into a nervous, frantic, blubbering mess. Hopefully nowhere in public. Hopefully in the discretion filled cave of my home so no one sees. I wish I was less strong sometimes.. only because it feels like no one really gives a shit when you're not a crying mess every two seconds.

I got an email from the SSA saying they reviewed my application and, although I was qualified, I wasn't the most qualified. To me, that's a big, wordy FUCK YOU. Well, fuck everything.

I hope he dies.

I hate him.

I hope he fucking dies.

I've never said either of those things and meant them until now.

My heart is literally breaking.

And I wish it was in the way that I am okay with.. the way where I know it will hurt for awhile and I'll cry and wish I had Marley to hold onto.

Unfortunately, it's the kind of breaking that I can't do anything about. The kind that breaks for someone else. I know I was a part of it, I know I may have caused it, I know you may have been a bigger part than I ever could have been in it.. but it breaks.

It breaks and it hurts.

All I really want is someone to pick me up, cradle me, hold me, tuck me in and tell me they are there. Lay next to me and let their heart beat with mine so I know I'm not alone.

I'm so sorry that you've truly hurt and battered so many people that no one will do that for you. Right now, I know no one will do that for me because I just can't make myself that vulnerable to ask.. but if I opened up, they would. In a heart beat.

And I'm really sorry that you have no one right now.

The same heart that you questioned, demeaned, degraded and insulted is breaking for you own because it was never whole.. it never had the chance to break for anyone else but yourself. I'm sorry.

And so my trainwreck status ensues.

I kind of want to be drunk forever. :/

The boys in my life I truly don't want.. and the ones that aren't or won't ever be, I do.

I can't help but feel like I've gotten (accepted?) the short end of the stick. It really bums me out knowing a lot of other people got the carefree, fun, charming, adventurous and endearing boyfriend. I really wish all of his ex girlfriends didn't fuck him up so bad.. because, as selfish as it sounds, now I'm the one that has to put up with it. :/

Every so often I find myself drifting off to some daydream.. it's entire content is hazy and I'm unsure of the semantics, but, overall, the outcome and realization I end up at is always the same.. what made some individuals give up on me? I'd like to say it's socially or in a friendly manner, but frequently I think of it in regards to matters of the romantic heart. What happened? Secretly, I'd love to know. I'd be satisfied superficially with the repetitive and mundane whowhatwherewhen. Even more discretely, I'd be interested in the real gossip. The real juice. The real fucking deal. I guess, not so secretly, I'd like to save face and pretend my past were no longer part of my present and a distant, very distant, landmark in the map of my future. Very, very secretly I'd love to receive anonymous handwritten letters detailing whatwherehowwhen I went wrong.

Part of me would like to think that I was thought of as one of those birds that can't be caged. You know the type. I guess I've only seen the type on Lifetime movies featured Sunday nights after 9pm. Or maybe an occasional Sex and the City episode when Carry Bradshaw isn't fornicating with Manolo Blahniks.

Maybe I don't want to know. No, I don't think I want to know.

I've had ants in my pants since I've cemented plans for Boston. I can't wait to get the hell out of Buffalo (and it's been quite some time since I've mulled that idea over in my head and actually meant it). After receiving a very mom-esque pep talk from Steph, I made a few arrangements at school and I am two classes away from an Art Therapy degree. Fuck yes. Plus, there is a really good Art Therapy Graduate school in Boston. Finally, all the little cracks are mending and the holes in my life are filling up with good things. I can't say everything is perfect, but everything is far from awful and that's just the way I like it.

My dad came up for the weekend and it was the first time I've seen him genuinely smile in forever. I had so much fun with him Friday night. Seeing him interact with Joe and my good friends, my Buffalo family, was heartwarming and I'm very grateful for that. Plus, having him respond to every question with ".. Because I'm Tony, the most funnest mother fucker to walk this earth" was a goddamn riot.

I'm so so so sleepy, but haven't slept for a consecutive 8 hours in awhile. Hopefully tonight!

I feel as though my little heart is breaking lately. No specific reason or wrong doing, just things.

If I could, I would keep Nicky in a bubble forever. I'm scared that one day I'll come home and he'll be gone. And I'm not sure which gone I'm talking about. And I'm not sure which gone is worse. (Right now I am semi-watching Joe and him play NHL and I'm very thankful for Joe in our lives. For the first time in a long time, Nick's actually smiling and laughing and Obama fist bumping.)

I got really sad about Marley not being here today. I thought it might be a good idea to youtube some videos of border collies. It was kind of a bad idea because I cried like a goddamn baby for 12 min. while watching the same video over and over set to the tune of "You've got a friend in me".

Oh my.

No one really respects me anymore.

There is a fucking stripper in my living room because my brother's friend "is having a rough time." I am locked up in my room like fucking Anne Frank because I don't want to see some skeezy broad with a goddamn c-section scar and full-on methface in a g-string grinding all up on my Raymour and Flannigan arm chair. Jesus fucking christ.

Seriously, what the fuck.

I am basically failing out of school, struggling to pay bills, selling shit to get extra money.. and now this. FUCKING THIS.

OH MY GOD.

I am moving to a one bedroom or studio. I want to be all by myself. All alone.

All of a sudden I am extremely parched and can't even go in the kitchen because some flappy vagina is going to be in my goddamn face before I make it to the Brita filter.

Motherfucker. Seriously. I am about to lose it.

Well, once in awhile I see an old friend..
But if we climb on each other we'll just sink right in.
Well, I don't know, but it seems to me..
Everybody gots lots to say.
What are words to me?

As we climb on each other, the air is getting thin..
I start to look, but I just.. drift off.. again.
Ohh, in and out of another day,
Lord, stumbling to find my way.
And all of these beliefs that I hold so dear..
How do they escape my skin..
Whenever you're not near.

It's got something to do with sitting still.
And if you're glass ain't pouring,
You might not get your fill.
And if you're not always climbing and want more,
I guess you'll think to yourself..
You just slip through the floor.

You can't catch flies with vinegar. I can't seem to catch flies with sugar. Consequentially, everyone wants to be part of something theatrical and when the curtain is closed, I seem to find out who the true actors and actresses are. Hmph.

Court's sister had her baby! I am so excited for little Ethan and Lola to be cute, smelly babies together.

This Spring is looking promising. Nice weather, great adventures, summer classes, Nicky and I on the move. Hopefully babies, puppies and love will be sprinkled into the mix of my life, too.

I'm scared for Laura to go to jail soon. I promised her I would take Ethan. Foster care is a fucking joke and I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't. I can't shake the feeling that my life is changing. I mean, of course it is. Company-wise, lifestyle-wise, friend-wise. Good thing I'm not a creature of habit. I can't help but find solace in the fact that the individuals I've known for over 10 years have become my Buffalo family. I don't know what I would do without them.

P.S. For awhile, I started to feel like the girl we all used to talk shit about, but hug to her face. It's starting to wane, but I absolutely hate that feeling.

Wooo 2009.. you're a real riot. Let me tell you.

Congratulations to everyone on their happy bullshit engagements.

Everyone is flaunting gorgeous princess cut diamonds and here I am bitter and buzzed.

I want to go back to my old self that didn't give a shit about much of anything. The drunk, stumbly me that once graced La Luna's dance floor like a 21st century Joni Mitchell.

What the fuck happened to me? Part of me has been avoiding every friend ever because I feel like a dumb failure. Year 4.5 at Buffstate and I am nowhere near a degree. I look at all my semesters and see ghosts of other people's problems on my transcripts.

I'm sad that I have/had a drinking problem. I'm sad that one drink was never enough and one too many drinks made things okay. I'm sad that I thought holding and squeezing Ethan would make me feel better and make me forget. I just want to be drunk forever. I just want to forget everything.

We're in an economic crisis and all I can think of is Half and Half's Spring line. Woe is me.

I just have to get a few things off my chest..

I really like Obama. Not just that he looks good in a bathing suit, but I also like his views and what a busy little bee he has been these last few days.

And I was watching Channel 7 News (don't judge, my Channel 4 comes in scrambled) and what the fuck is up with all these anti-abortion protesters? I mean, don't get me wrong.. everyone has the "right" to an opinion.. but MEN protesting to have a choice on WOMEN'S rights pertaining to their own vagina-booby-female bodies? Get a fucking life, dude. Actually, worry about your wiener and what your probably really oppressed housewife is going to make you for dinner.

I'm usually pretty open-minded about things, but I just don't get it.. I don't get how people can whine whine whine and put so much energy into something they've probably never had to deal with. Why don't they try "going green" or something more constructive?

Fuck.

For the last 3 days I've felt like I was dying. Debilitating migraines that leave me hallucinating and bed-ridden suck. It was nice to have Joe come and take care of me and I can honestly say I've missed him. I am sick of holding grudges. If I held a grudge against everyone that has ever hurt me, I'd probably have.. hmm.. maybe 2 friends?

First day of school tomorrow.. weeee! (kind of)

It's been six days and my stomach still hurts like hell. I hope everything went okay. I'll find out in a week. I was right about taking someone else's medicine.. puking my brains out for a day straight was no fun.

James finds out if he got this job in Hong Kong on Friday. I am going to start stretching now so I can more easily fit in a suitcase. Flights aren't too outrageous and I definitely want to go visit in summer. I need some sort of change of pace! At least planning all of these mini-vacations to Cleveland/Columbus, Vegas, Hong Kong and camping in the Adirondacks will give me something to look forward to at the end of the semester. Hopefully I can make it to Boston, too.

I'm slightly bummed that I'm not even excited at the prospect of dating new people, new personalities, new hearts. I suppose you'd call this "me time".

Hmph.

I'm slowly, but surely realizing that I can't expect much from a lot of people. Everyone has their own priorities and I've never tried to be anyone's best friend, but I know I was the best friend to them at certain points when no one was. Just a non-vicious, generalization.. nothing specific or malicious.

I feel really good that I haven't drank in over a week. It's been helping me keep my emotions in check as much as they can be.

3 weeks to go!

Why am I such a fucking mess?

I hate working overnights, but last night was fun with Mark. I'm glad he enjoys gossip magazines as much as I do. Tonight round two and I'm not excited.

My hormones are going bonkers. So is my body. Just crumbling, crumbling, crumbling.

I feel like poop. Emotionally and physically.

Let me know when the weather breaks.

My stomach hurts so fucking bad. I wish they would have given me more pain killers. It's a shame I'm so terrified of taking other people's medicine because something to make me not a scrunched up little ball of pain right now would be awesome.

I really miss Joe. I'm starting to wonder about myself and my inability to forgive or forget or any combination of the two. It would be neat if the premise of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind could really happen. I guess I'd really like for everyone to have no recollection of the mean things said or bad things done. I hate awkwardness. I hate grudges. I hate whispers. (Maybe I should move out of Buffalo?)

For some odd reason I thought school started January 20th. I've been mentally preparing myself for an okay semester. That's all I want out of myself. No Dean's List, no flashy 4.0. Just an okay mediocore completed semester. In reality, school starts January 26th, which just kind of gives me more time to freak out over it.

I really love Nicholas to death. I'm very lucky to have such an understanding, protective, and caring brother. I'm also thankful for Ana and Court. No one likes getting up at 7am, let alone sitting 5 hours in a waiting room, but they didn't complain and made me feel okay about everything. Things aren't so bad.

I'm so broke I think I'm getting a job at FedEx with Nick. Watch out, I'll be a buff package handler in no time.

Ouch ouch ow ouch ow ow.

Wednesday morning I go in for my surgery. Hopefully then I will finally be able to get a good night's sleep without being in absolute pain.

I really can't believe how luck I am to have really, really considerate friends. I would probably go nuts without them.

I've been looking for apartments that allow dogs, I just don't think I can be sane without having a puppy here constantly.

If people only knew or had the decency to ask, maybe then they'd stop talking shit or thinking everything was about them, regarded them, revolved around them, everyone was against them.

It's funny that I've been saying how it's going to take a lot for me to forgive Joe for the horrible things he said (round 2), but in reality.. I'm going to have a hard time forgiving myself for a decision.

I really, genuinely hope 2009 gets better.

I really, genuinely wish I had the ability to dramatize.

Also, I wish I could humbly tell my mom that I want (and possibly need) her to come back next week. I don't know if it's more selfish to not tell her.

I feel like I'm keeping a million secrets.

I don't know what to do.

OH MY GOD.

As if the situation couldn't get anymore dramatic.. what an asshole. Is it weird that I, deep down inside, feel utterly bad for him? It's almost a pity feeling.. or pain in my gut that hurts when I think of the hole(s) he's dug.

Eek. Oh well. It's probably just the new ulcer 2009 gave me and no actual real emotion.

I feel like a lot of people became indifferent to me.. and I can't say I really even hate being under the radar.

I'm not going to Ohio anymore, which really fucking sucks. It would have been nice to just drive drive drive and then fly fly fly away.

I still have Vegas to look forward to in August.

It's weird that I can't bring myself to cry.

Regardless, I'm excited for 2009.

An epic list of resolutions. A bundle of joy little baby. A great family and fantastic friends. Furry critters galore.

And no baggage. Ever.