not even the highly-amusing The Subject Steve can keep me occupied long enough for my brain to run down and for sleep to visit. clearly, the tragic exhaustion that has plagued me for the past week or so has dissipated. now it’s midnight and i’m wide awake. ’tis a shame.

i’m arguing with myself, i think that might be part of what keeps me up. i have the distinct feeling that i’m being dismissed by someone i care about. which just blows. dismissal is not fun.

i keep going over our last conversation in my head. maybe i was too bitchy. maybe i was too honest, maybe one shouldn’t have passionate discussions the day after they bury their grammu.

i think he’s avoiding me.

the argument inside makes me wonder if he thinks i’m dismissing him. maybe it’s me that has the cold shoulder. how can i tell? should i apologize? is an apology necessary? by apologizing am i making what i said i felt invalid? why are relationships so complicated? why do men constantly confuse me?

why in the hell did i tell darlingjason i had a crush on him. is that the sort of thing you should share?

should i sell all my books and move to montana?

too many questions for so late at night.

i wonder what happened to all the people who were in my life. i think it might be my fault i’m so alone, maybe i’m a cold person and i don’t even know it. that was one of the outlaw’s complaints about me, i was too aloof. me, aloof. this revelation stunned me.

i just think of all the people who were once here and wonder where they all went. i didn’t want them to go away, well, except wes. wes who i hate (and not you the wes, a different wes). two people i hate. the name of one i cannot remember and wes. wes who called me fat, which is not why i hate him, because i’d been called fat before. but wes called me fat and then i had to quit, because i couldn’t work for a man who thought it was ok to say such things about me. and i hate wes because he robbed me of all my self confidence. i used to be really confident. so confident that people i didn’t know would stop me in the bar and tell me how much they admired me for all my confidence. so confident that even dave, who i loved and went away and i don’t know why, said that i should never underestimate the sexxiness of my confidence. dave had beautiful blue eyes and told me all the things i wanted so badly to believe.

also, i’ve been thinking of something that dainec said about being a hugger. i am a hugger, i just am not around people that i can hug enough. today, i was touched by the graphicsboy. and that’s about it, unless you count the exchange of money with the bowlerguys, and i don’t. remind me i still need to talk about the sex that clings to the air with the blue-white smoke above the lanes on friday nights.

anyway, besides my niece and nephews, i don’t have a lot of people to touch. my sisters, they are not huggers, unless someone dies, then we cling to each other. it’s weird like that. but i was gonna keep a record of how many days in a row i wasn’t touched, but then i decided that the evil munchkin would ruin that about once a week, because he has to come by at least once and smoosh me. it’s a weird thing he does, i think it’s because he’s not comfortable hugging me at work. anyway, i also decided that if nobody touched me by thursday i’d just make the the NBFB do it, because that’s what best friendboys are for, right?

ahh, purging is good for the soul.

this rant was brought to you by the diet coke i drank at 10 o’clock tonight and the decision that i’m not gonna be afriad of how i feel anymore.