2005-08-01 - 1:31 p.m.
Angel was here this weekend and leaves today. She looks the same, but has a few more wrinkles around her eyes, her hair is longer, and of course, she's pregnant. But it makes sense to see her pregnant for some reason. Her boyfriend/baby daddy is cute, but there was something about him that I didn't like. Some machoness, like he thinks he's always right, when she's clearly smarter than him. I liked it best when she was going out with Danny--they laughed so much together. Is that my marker for true love? Because everyone seems to be settling down, me included, with people who don't make them laugh that much but make them feel secure in other ways. But he, her bf, used to want an open relationship and slept with other girls. I don't like that, what it means about him, which for me is just that he is a horndog and too immature to be in a real relationship.
I can't think that this diary will be interesting any more, I know it's not. My life isn't interesting either. I am sad today. I feel like I'm getting older and though a little wiser, not happier. I think I would be happier if I loved my job. I want to write. But I also want to go back to school: sort of for archiving or maybe to be an english professor, but man o man, a PhD takes like 5 years to complete?!
I'd like to be an editor or work in a museum. For editing, I think you need experience, not schooling. For museum, I think I would need a special talent--grant-writing, which I do NOT want to do, archiving which sounds fun but possibly not for me--I'm so messy, or art history expertise--how do you get to be a curator again?
I read online today the cartoon/diary of this girl, Vanessa Davis , I was half in love with her. The website is www.spanielrage.com. She made me want to draw a lot more. My diaries used to be filled with pictures, of myself on the train, of the weather outside, or something I saw. Now I never draw, I'm out of the habit and the drawings frustrate me, they're so bad. I love other people's auto-biographical comics. And diaries. I love what other people record out of their day, the little crazy things, like a roach in their apartment, finding a box of tapes on the street, etc...I love to read those things. I want to base my life around such little moments in my and other people's lives.
DT is away and will get back tonight. In talking on the phone, I felt like I hated him. It's a relief when he's away. I am not looking forward to seeing him, and the thought of sex hold almost no appeal. I want to break up. But these dark periods always pass and then I'm giddy and in love again. He's helping this friend of his move across country, and I hate her guts. She is fake, weird to me and a big drinker, clearly one of those girls that's more comfortable with guys than girls. Or maybe it's just that she's not comfortable with any of his girlfriends, because she is sort of in love with him. Well, she should try dating him sometime--the brokeness, the whining, the gloomy looks, the bad, blind rough sex--she would get over this fantasy pretty fast. But then I must not be in love.
