Questioning My Motives

So I'm starting to find it ironic that I can't talk about things to the people around me but I can post them on here for the world to see. It almost makes me want to delete my previous posts and redirect the purpose of this blog. But that's the thing. This is the purpose of the blog. And I don't know what else I could do with it.
My other blog, Who are you, God? is doing pretty well (I mean it's not on the New York Times Best Sellers List or anything but I think people are interested; they're reading.) so that makes me happy. And writing it down makes me feel better. I can go back and see where I've come from.
I've wrapped four presents tonight. One for my boss, one for both of my co-workers and one for my brother. When I get home, I need to wrap up the ones from LoverBoy, my little sister and find something for the other brother and Dad. I got Mom a spa gift certificate so I had to give it to her early but I also went and got her an Elvis Christmas record. I need to wrap that too. Did I mention that when I bought it, I also found myself a Duran Duran record? :) I'm so happy. I love records. That's one thing that when my family does it together, we never fight or anything. It's just fun. And in a house with so many people, it's hard to make everybody happy.
Finals are coming up next week... Grrrrrreeeeeeaaaaaat. And now I'm going to go work on some of my study guides before B. and I watch a Christmas movie. :)

The First Saturday of Many

He didn't come.

Of course, he didn't.

And just like I predicted, I am here. I am sitting in my room. Doing nothing.
I woke up at 9. I waited. At 10 or 11, I texted. I waited. I went from the bed to breakfast to the computer and waited. Finally, somewhere between 12 and 1, ding! You've got mail. Or a text message. Or whatever.
Please let the reader be aware that MY text said "Good morning, for when you actually get up." What I received was not even "good morning;" oh no, it was "something is wrong with my back."
Sounds serious don't it?
Well whats wrong?
I slept on a shoe. I can't come see you because I slept on a shoe and consequentially, my back hurts too much to move so I can't come see you. Because. I slept. On a shoe.

Fabulous.

Now, please understand: I am NOT upset because his back hurts.
I am upset because it is always something. Always something.
Every.
Single.
Day.

My head hurts. My arm hurts. My legs hurt because I am so obsessed with my image that I work out way too much even though I know better and hurt myself. Again. My stomach hurts. My brother's stomach hurts. My dad's head hurts. My mom's arms hurt. My lip hurts. My face hurts. My body hurts. My foot hurts. My ribs hurt because I dropped a box of fries on myself at work, so don't hug me. My eye hurts. My brother's leg hurts. My.....

And you get the point. Actually, you don't. Just like I am sure there is someone in your life who I would never understand what you mean about them until I met them, this is him to you.
Seriously, I have NEVER met ANYONE who was so constantly complaining about SOMETHING. I mean, no, if he's in pain I do not want him to just ignore it or pretend it's not there to appease me, but HOLY FREAKING CRAP; anybody in that much pain that often would be dead already. Or they would go to the doctor. Or they would put a little more effort into getting health insurance and THEN go to the doctor.

Let's be honest: No. I don't believe him all the time. In fact, he complains SO much that if I only believed him 10% of the time, I would still think he was in pain every other day at the LEAST.

And yes, I know I'm complaining.

And I don't. Even. Care.

So since the "surprise" non-visit was announced, I've been killing my brain cells with StumbleUpon, YouTube,  Facebook, and Blogger. I HAVE NOT done any of my homework, eaten anything healthy, read the new book I bought or studied. I haven't even left this room because I was PLANNING on taking a shower but I waited to long and now all these stupid MALES are in the building and I don't even want to deal with it. It's not even worth it. It's not like I'm going anywhere or doing anything or seeing anybody anyway right?!?!

I'm wrapped up in a quilt, typing this, about to start stuffing my face with ice cream sandwiches and coffee. The sorority down the west hall is singing. Its not their practicing time and they just KEEP walking up and down this hallway THAT THEY DON'T EVEN LIVE ON, just BUTCHERING good music. Plus I haven't spoken to HER since the whole "your freaking boyfriend saw me without all my clothes on because you SENT him into the room" thing. Which was what? Day before last? Yeah. Which sucks because she is my sister and I love her. But I'm so pissed off at her. I have, however, recovered from my irrational "get a baseball bat, a bar of soap and a garbage bag" anger, but have now moved into the rational "she actually does deserve to be slapped in the face and I never want to look at his face again" anger. Not going anywhere anytime soon. And, intelligently enough, the did not come in here last night. She left and went to his house. Its about freaking time. And AMAZINGLY, she left to go to his house this morning too and said she would be back tonight. Can you imagine how happy I was for the alone time with Lover Boy? Until of course, I found out he wasn't even coming. B. is at work today (which means he isn't even in TOWN) and, what an ironic coincidence, Pookie (that is not her real name but for anonymity's sake....) isn't even in this part of the COUNTRY. Wow.
Leave it to me, the girl who HATES HATES HATES to be alone, to be the one person in town today. Wow.
And to top it all off, I don't even have any paint to paint with....

I'm thinking I'll kill my brain with a few more hours of pointless YouTube videos, let Foamy the Squirrel make me laugh, clean up the room, get a shower and let Cee Lo Green, Avril and Simple Plan talk me into going out and buying some paint in something sexy.