The Story of How I Got My New Orange Hoodie

My boyfriend, his best friend and I areat KB Toys. They're having a going out of business sale and they're looking for some last minute presents. I'm not paying attention to those two, when suddenly I look up and something comes flying at my face and hits me smack in the right eye. The something being an arrow off a toy bow and arrow set. Luckily, it's one with a suction cup at the end, so there's not a big black and blue area around my eye. Yes. Luckily, I still have my eye. It was my wonderful boyfriend who shot me, no more than 3 feet away. It went shockingly fast, which is why it hurt so bad and caused me to have to sit down. It took awhile before I could open my eye again.

He kept apologizing all day even though I didn't complain. What's funny is everytime he'd apologize, I'd call him a pussybitch or something of the sort, 'cause it's really annoying to have someone apologize to you that often. However, anytime he did something wrong I'd tell him, "You shot me in the eye!" It ended much annoyances that day.

So, yes, he bought me a bright orange hoodie. Could have gotten a dress outta him too, but I ain't that kind of gal.

Sometimes, I want to fight. Maybe that's why I have slight anger issues. But, I don't mean 'fight'. I mean 'fight for'. I think all of us would like to have something to fight for, because that means we have a reason to fight for it. We need just as much reason as we need rhyme. And, well, it's about time.

It's true that a part of me is wanting for selfish reasons. That's what happens to all of us. Maybe it's not that I want to be famous, but well-respected. That's a fine wish to have, I think.

I suppose most blogs are about what goes on in our everyday lives. Maybe one reads this. And, if that one, maybe two. I would like two readers.

It's the beginning of the holiday season. Happy Hanukkah. And soon to Christmas. Soon to be New Year's. I actually bought gives this year, loving giving them. Though I am getting some, I admit that I am most excited for my boyfriend's. Though we are both Jewish, he is from Russia and celebrates New Year's as though it were Christmas. He is used to many presents (something which I am used to but of quite low, but loving quality) and keeps adding to mine (three at this point). I bought him a GPS which is more than I've spent on anybody and he loves. I have never met a human being with a worse internal compass then him, so this was the most useful gift he could have received. But, there is nothing that I specifically want this year, which makes me even more excited to see what he got me.

You see, it's not about the presents themselves. I really do believe that the love he shows me is the greatest thing in the world. Nobody makes me happier than him. But, what he wants to give me are things that he believes will make me happy. Because, he loves seeing me happy. I think I'm mostly excited for these gifts because he's excited to see me excited.

This is my first holiday season with someone special in my life. One year ago, I barely knew the guy. Now, he's the love of my life. And, it's all just a moment in a series of moments of time that both doesn't exist and lasts far beyond and far after my lifetime.

And, if right now all I'm fighting for is love and happiness, I think I'll be all right.

This weekend has been scattered with good and filled with bad. In the end, as I usually do when this sort of thing happens, I focus on the bad rather than the good. It's a bad habit, but I have an active imagination which loves to sabotage myself. I understand that I am drawn to drama, I'm a theater major, but I should be drawn to happiness as well. If things start going to well, I have no choice but to pick the pieces from the whole and pull them apart.

But, even if I react too strongly, I feel slightly justified by my feelings. This is not a self-pitying entry. None of them are. Because, even in the smallest amount possible, I'm right. Even a little bit. And I want to growl, How dare you? But, I've done that before and it falls short of truth and too passionate for the reason.

I want to feel more a part of than I am. Less lonely than I feel all the time. Even when you hold me sometimes. More loved. With more meaning and more friends. If I don't drink or do drugs, does that mean you won't hang out with me? Or is it me? Can I not fake laughter well enough? Can I not hurt myself hard enough?

Not sel-pitying. Contemplative. Bored. Always bored and tired.

And wondering why.

Hungry. But, not quite hungry enough to get off my lazy ass and... it's noon. It's noon already? Fuck. Okay. I'll get some food.

I wrote a pretty crappy 50,000 word novel. If I posted it anywhere, I'd post it here. But, am I willing to do that yet?

Sigh.

Done with Comedy Studies. It was amazing. My teachers actually think I'm talented and want me to go to Annoyance so that I can loosen up a little. A note that I'm well aware of. Stop asking questions. Stop being self-critical. Just. Fucking. Go. For. It.

And, hell, maybe that's what I'll do.