Grr, I'm crabby! No reason why, in particular, besides a disrupted sleep pattern after this weekend. I just got off the phone with my boy and the conversation was awful. I was in a good mood, but he was in a lousy mood. I think he would rather sit around and feel sorry for himself than do something proactive to help his situation, which I just can't deal with. I can only say "Oh, I'm sorry. That sucks..." a certain number of times before I get SOOOOO annoyed! Maybe I have lousy empathy skills? But anyways, he was in a bad mood, which put ME in a bad mood, and now that we're off the phone I'm still crabby. Grr.

My weekend home was nice and relaxing. I forget how much going home recharges me. When I was in college I had to go home every few months just to remember what was important in my life. It's so easy to get bogged down in the bullshit and the details surrounding you. For me, I just need to go home and hang out with my family to remember that despite all the bullshit there are still people who love you and couldn't care less about the trivial minutae in your life.

Tomorrow my work will be critiqued by my fiction-writing class. I hope it isn't too painful. I have sort of convinced myself that my piece is really good, but now I'm afraid that I blew it up too big in my head and I will be severely offended if anybody tells me anything besides what a piece of pure genius it is. I know it is rough around the edges, so I just need to remember that when I go to class tomorrow night, and not take the criticism too personally. I'll let you know how it goes.

I have been wanting to fill my body with chemicals recently. I think I need a wild night out on the town, so I'll have to call my usual accomplices and see who is willing/has money/has the same desire to get wasted/nicotine-ridden as me. I also want to show off my cute new gay clothes (like my low-rise black DKNY jeans!), so I will have to find a semi-okay gay bar. No dancing, I just feel like checking people out and maybe being checked out for a few hours and then coming home to pass out. Sigh. Oh, and LOTS and LOTS of cigarettes to complete my gay look.

I'm still mad at my friend who told asked me if I "made a conscious decision to start talking more gay." How dare she? Now I am paranoid about my voice, and I just assume that everybody who ever hears me speak just KNOWS that I'm gay. Not that that's a bad thing, but I always considered my sexuality to be more subtle than that and I was never one to wear it on my sleeve. Hmm, this requires more analysis, but it will have to wait for another time.

Peace out.