So apparently someone's jealous ex just called me "That Mexican, Bionicfemme." LOL!
I am NOT a Mexican!!!! This is hilarious!
I am compulsively reading Michelle Tea's "Valencia" and as a field trip, went to Valencia street yesterday and wandered around. I see now why it's dykeville. I think I have fallen in love with Valencia street. There are so many cute cafes, vintage shops, and specialty stores for artists...I wandered into a movie prop store and laughed my ass off at a giant gumby. I also signed up to volunteer at a nearby shelter. I wandered into three used bookstores and found the BEST STORE EVER MADE.
It's a small bookstore that specializes in ONLY sci-fi, fantasy, and horror. The display in the window had a huge edition of Grimm's fairy tales surrounded by mushrooms and vines. It was so magical. I meandered in and found an old choose your own adventure book of the Lone Wolf series. THE FIRST ONE! I bought it for 1.50 and it was fun.
One thing did bring me down. I went into the Oxygen Bar for some chai and turned to see a notebook where they were recording people's email addresses. I looked at the page to see Natalie's first and last name, and the email of another girl who was with her.
Anyone named "Mizpriss595" is obviously a slut, or an idiot, or both.
It wasn't as hurtful as I thought it'd be. I looked at the names and addresses and things came together. She started ignoring me recently because she found another fuck buddy to cheat on Heather with, and that's pathetic. When I wouldn't fuck her the last time we saw each other, she just found someone else and left me behind.
It made me more sorry for her than for myself. And the pain was not sharp, not white-hot. It left a bruise. A bruise and nothing more.
And it helped me to finally realize that I do deserve better than her. I need someone with depth, who has at least some value for human compassion or affection. I'm not going to waste my time on some ghettofabulous manipulative ho-bag anymore. There's someone out there better for me. It might be Grrlhavoc, but SHE LIVES IN TEXAS!
I am comforted now because I can't possibly ever meet a girl who will treat me worse than Natalie did. Things can only get better from here. And I am starting to be strong enough to deal with crazy women. Just not crazy women who hurt me.
Natalie is not worth hurting myself over emotionally. I'm not going to waste any more thoughts on her, or any more words past this journal, if I can help it. She never cared for me at all. Not even a little. It hurts in a sobering away, but a sobering way that will allow me to move on.
The bus driver drove maniacally and in a jerky fashion on the way home. Lately, I have been thinking: Do people drive the way they fuck? Do people fight the way they fuck? I think this when I see the facial expressions on my sparring partner in tae kwon do.
Everything will be ok. So long as there are good friends to be with, and good adventures to go on, little magical places on the street that I can wander into at leisure, things will be ok.
This day forward, i'm leaving her behind.
And yes, things do hurt, but they are hurting less.
And the day will come when I do run into her at one of SF's two lesbian bars. But on that day i'll say only this,
"Let's pretend that we never met."
I am NOT a Mexican!!!! This is hilarious!
I am compulsively reading Michelle Tea's "Valencia" and as a field trip, went to Valencia street yesterday and wandered around. I see now why it's dykeville. I think I have fallen in love with Valencia street. There are so many cute cafes, vintage shops, and specialty stores for artists...I wandered into a movie prop store and laughed my ass off at a giant gumby. I also signed up to volunteer at a nearby shelter. I wandered into three used bookstores and found the BEST STORE EVER MADE.
It's a small bookstore that specializes in ONLY sci-fi, fantasy, and horror. The display in the window had a huge edition of Grimm's fairy tales surrounded by mushrooms and vines. It was so magical. I meandered in and found an old choose your own adventure book of the Lone Wolf series. THE FIRST ONE! I bought it for 1.50 and it was fun.
One thing did bring me down. I went into the Oxygen Bar for some chai and turned to see a notebook where they were recording people's email addresses. I looked at the page to see Natalie's first and last name, and the email of another girl who was with her.
Anyone named "Mizpriss595" is obviously a slut, or an idiot, or both.
It wasn't as hurtful as I thought it'd be. I looked at the names and addresses and things came together. She started ignoring me recently because she found another fuck buddy to cheat on Heather with, and that's pathetic. When I wouldn't fuck her the last time we saw each other, she just found someone else and left me behind.
It made me more sorry for her than for myself. And the pain was not sharp, not white-hot. It left a bruise. A bruise and nothing more.
And it helped me to finally realize that I do deserve better than her. I need someone with depth, who has at least some value for human compassion or affection. I'm not going to waste my time on some ghettofabulous manipulative ho-bag anymore. There's someone out there better for me. It might be Grrlhavoc, but SHE LIVES IN TEXAS!
I am comforted now because I can't possibly ever meet a girl who will treat me worse than Natalie did. Things can only get better from here. And I am starting to be strong enough to deal with crazy women. Just not crazy women who hurt me.
Natalie is not worth hurting myself over emotionally. I'm not going to waste any more thoughts on her, or any more words past this journal, if I can help it. She never cared for me at all. Not even a little. It hurts in a sobering away, but a sobering way that will allow me to move on.
The bus driver drove maniacally and in a jerky fashion on the way home. Lately, I have been thinking: Do people drive the way they fuck? Do people fight the way they fuck? I think this when I see the facial expressions on my sparring partner in tae kwon do.
Everything will be ok. So long as there are good friends to be with, and good adventures to go on, little magical places on the street that I can wander into at leisure, things will be ok.
This day forward, i'm leaving her behind.
And yes, things do hurt, but they are hurting less.
And the day will come when I do run into her at one of SF's two lesbian bars. But on that day i'll say only this,
"Let's pretend that we never met."
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
oh and 2am your time is 4am my time so i will prob be asleep byt then...i have been going to bed b/w 2 and 3am
[Edited on Feb 25, 2003]
but as i read your jounal i learnd this was not the case