Diane Dies

Today is one, of two days, that I got off from work this week. I decided to sleep in really late then go out with Diane later on. And I did just that.

Diane had come over sooner than expected. So instead of doing my hair, I just threw it back in a hat, and it looked fine. I took my time getting ready... doing my make up and getting dressed, since Diane had told me that she didn't mind how long I took.

When I was done getting ready we left quickly. We were on our way to her house. We were about 1/4 of the way there when Diane said, "I would have waited for you to do your hair, you didn't have to wear that hat that doesn't match."

I replied, "I wasn't in the mood to do it. And who are you to tell me what matches, you think your stupid heather grey cardigan matches everything."

She made a remark about me saying I was going to put some gel in my hair. And I explained, and I don't use gel, I only use hair spray. Diane began to raise her voice, and told me that I did say I use gel.

I got loud back at her and said, "Listen CUNT, you're wrong! I don't use gel, I don't even own fucking gel. You're FUCKING WRONG!" The car came to a screeching halt. She told me go get out. I did, and on the way out I said, "See you next Tuesday, BITCH," and slammed the door as hard as I could.

As I got out I noticed skid marks.

I only had a 30 minute walk home. It was beautiful outside. I enjoyed it more than anything I had done with Diane in the past few months.

No one has heard from Diane, since I saw her. Maybe I should be worried. Not being able to admit your wrong does have a price tag. Death.

Her cold sausage fingers texted me to try and win me over. I just kept sending her "Goodbye" in different languages. She left me a voice mail and claimed that I raised my voice first and I was being immature. She's just thick-headed. She always has to get her way. She should know by now, that in our friendship, I have always gotten my way before she ever has.

This bitch is dead to me.

Mr. Hilton

Mr. Hilton, you must be worth a trillion bucks...

A few days ago, a random guy added me on Facebook. Turns out he goes to a local high school, so I decided to keep him in my friends list, since he was obviously gay, and decent looking. He seemed really typical, nothing special. But let me tell you, I'm guessing his pictures are outdated...

On Wednesday, August 4th, he came into GAP Outlet, to come visit me. He had never been to the mall which my store is located, which was surprising since he didn't live that far away. Mr. Hilton looked much, much, more stylish and attractive than his photographs made him seem. He swiftly came up the side of the dominant column of the second "I wall" (a word used to describe the front display on a wall separating men's and women's), where I was working on separating newly marked down graphic tees from the ones that were still full price.

The night before he had told me he didn't like my hair (my hair). He told me it was too high and wasn't interesting. He told me it was boring, basically. I got over it, or so I thought. For some reason, Mr. Hilton's critique stuck. I haven't had hairspray in my hair in a few days. I've been wearing it forward (my hair).

This kid may seem like a prick, but you ain't seen nothing yet, bitches!

While the operator was clearly peacocking, he up-down-ed me. I thought nothing of it, people do it all the time. If only you knew how good my ass looked in these jeans, or so I thought. Before I could finish soaking up the looks in my mind he spoke, "Your jeans don't fit." I was like, mother fucking bitch say what?! Then he looked down on the 1.5" heel on my tan boots. He wasn't winning any points.

That night he IM-ed me and apologized profusely. He claimed, "I was really nervous." Who the fuck in their right mind insults the hottest piece of ass they've ever laid eyes on?! But whatever... after lots of guilt and conversation, we made plans for him to come over, today, at noon.

Aneta and Madame Dupont decided to go to the beach, leaving me alone with Mr. Hilton. We were talking the whole time except the last 30 minutes of his stay. At one point he said to me, "I"m definitely bigger." I laughed, climbed off of him, made myself visible (as did he), and I said, "Think again." His eyes lit up, and he bit his lip. He climbed on top of me, and kissed me...

Mr. Hilton, I like the way you push and glide.

Alejandro

Alejandro is a beautiful man, with a wide jaw, and an even wider heart. I could gaze into his green eyes until I go blind. He drives me mad, and there's a terrible delight in my heart when he's around...

Yes, I am aware that disappointment lives around the corner from perfection.

When I first met Alejandro, I expected him to be just another work of art I could be best friends with for a night, but as the days progressed, we just clicked. We share everything, like real best friends do. He thinks I'm beautiful, and I think he is as well, but we both know we aren't compatible, so the lust is enough for the two of us.

Alejandro was dating Xavier, who hardly deserves a name as far as I'm concerned, up until three days ago. Alejandro has just moved into a large city in the South-Eastern United States, and feels like at age 20, he's too perfect and freshly out of the closet to be tied down at this time in his life. That was his reason for leaving Xavier, who thought the sun rose and set on Alejandro, and was then deceived. Xavier wasn't very interesting anyway, in my personal opinion.

Alejandro told me he was going through a hard time, and didn't think he'd get back in the ring soon. In such a context, soon, means less than 48 hours. My stupidity is showing, I know.

Not.

So two nights ago, he decided he was going to invite Alejandro's Man 1, over. They drank wine and "watched a movie." In gay language that means, make out and fondle one another. I can tell he's having a real HARD time.

The next night, last night, he invites Alejandro's Man 2, over. He's a hairdresser, who met up with him an hour late, and made him walk up a hill to meet him because he's a mother fucking pansy. Anyways, Alejandro let him stay the night too. Alejandro had to go to work this morning with hickeys up and down his neck. And it showed all day. Wear them like the trashy, rebound badges they are.

What makes me so upset is that someone who came out of the closet only a few months ago knows more gays than me, and has more gays who want to be with him. I guess us gays who can't help but look like gays will never be victorious.

I struggle more, and have it ten times harder than the "straight-looking" gays and yet they always seem to be less proud. And they seem to receive more affection.

Don't wanna kiss, don't wanna touch.

Just smoke my cigarette and hush.

MIA

I've been missing in action for a little while. My computer broke weeks ago, and I haven't been able to write. Though I may not be able to tell about all of the adventures I have had, I can recall a few that have created milestones in my summer.

One weekend, I was with Diane. We went to the new grocery store down that road that just opened this summer. And we decided, that I needed to dye my hair, spice it up. So she and I decide to get bleach and go blond. We both went blond that night, but I went blonder. I loved it.

The next day I went to work and everyone loved it. Not a single person had a negative word to say (out loud that is). I felt great. When I got home that night though, I was deeply discontent. I hated it. In a panic, I called Diane, and she and I went and bought black hair dye. Once you go black, you'll always go back.

Lesson learned: BLONDS DO NOT HAVE MORE FUN.

The next event would be Mr. Yves Lazzari. Every year, this church in my county has a "Festa" and I go because when I went to private school in elementary school, that church was affiliated with the school. Diane and I went all three days, and it was wonderful. On the second day I picked up Italian pastries for Aneta and ran into Yves. He was tall and had a thick Italian accent which corresponded perfectly with his high cheek bones.

That night, I get a message on Facebook, and to my surprise, it was Yves. We were already friends. That night we had spoken on the phone for hours and had gotten to know one another. A week later he snuck me in his house, and we had a romantic night together (wink wink). He was a good kisser, but I ditched him.

Lesson learned: DON'T GET INVOLVED WITH DRAG QUEEN-CLOSET CASES.

Thirdly and lastly, is a story about the park. One of my favorite parks is called Stein-Metz Park. I spent the day there tanning and hanging out alone by the pond, just to have some Caesar time.

A little girl named Africa, comes up to me and attempts to give me a flower (which was just a yellow weed). I told her I didn't want it and she left. Shortly after, Africa comes over again and offers me yet another flower (which was just a different weed, that was white). I denied her gift once again, kindly. She interrupted me mid-sentence and scolded me, "TAKE THE DAMN FLOWER." I took it and she scolded me again as I attempted to set it next to me, "KEEP IT!" I kept it and she left me be. Adolescence is beautiful.... right?

Lesson learned: YOU WILL NEVER ESCAPE TORMENT AND RIDICULE.

My Tears Rolled Into The Ocean

The tears I shed, and the sadness I occasionally feel just roll into a pit of previous emotions, much like water of the rivers that flow from the mountain tops, and are forgotten and blurred once they reach the ocean.

When I am struck with emotion of mostly any kind, it is fueled by sadness and desperation. Every previous event gets brought into my mind, and begins to escalate and create a more extreme emotion than that originally generated. Only I know how to please myself. I search for something with my eyes closed.

The Greeks thought that hope was evil personified. Seeing as hope is usually a wish against the grain of life, it comes to no surprise that Greek Mythology tells us this. Despite that some mythology states that one must not give up hope, since it calms all of life's other evils. On a day-to-day basis I open Pandora's box. Seemingly, nothing comes out except dust, and nothing is exposed except a dead spider, and a web it once called home.

I find myself released when I'm alone, or when I'm around those who know little of, or about me. When I'm in my bed alone at night, I think of happy things, all of the great little things. I don't feel how I was mistreated, or how I should have retaliated when I didn't. When alone in public, I almost feel notorious, since people see my standing freely, and seeing what I have portrayed myself as without other people near, forcing my image to become a shield.

I heard two people talking behind me in the hallway this afternoon after Algebra II and Trigonometry. The one girl said to the other in a confusingly sarcastic voice, "Work it! Work it girl!" Her friend replied, "He's so stylish though," and something else implying I was attractive. And the other said, "Oh I know." Once again I received the recognition that I should get, being my own personal character.

When I'm with people who are forever part of my life, I feel like they know too much and have invaded or violated a certain human right I have to my identity. I wish I could be as shut off as you, but I'm not.

Frequently, legislation is passed, and they fulfill their duty to make laws. It seems as if the President has a difficult time correctly carrying out these laws, and at times not even carrying out said laws. I am the President.

Everyone Builds Credit

Today was as average as could be, I was scheduled at GAP for 4:15-7:15. A blip of a shift. I had planned to get a ride from Aneta, but she was unable to do it since she was still at work, over 20 miles away. Simply, I had no ride to work.

I even called Diane, but still, no ride available.

Around 3:30 I finally worked up the courage to call. A voice answers the phone, "Thank you for calling GAP Outlet in Rotterdam Mall. This is Stacy, I can help you." I could hear the generic happiness and enthusiasm that accompanies answering the phone there.

I was relieved when I hear Stacy's voice. I was so glad that it wasn't Hugh. Despite the fact that I am seeing him more and more as a real human being, he still intimidates the shit out of me in terms of an employee-employer relationship. I told Stacy the truth, even though I heavily contemplated faking sick. I can fake sick pretty damn good too!

She laughed and exclaimed, "It's Okay! Employee of the Month!" She called me by it as if it were my name.

I smiled and said, "But I still feel terrible, you know?!" I really did just feel terrible about the whole thing. I had never called in a day of my life until today.

She comforted me with,"Everyone builds credit. And here, you've done just that. It's completely excusable." At the time this didn't seem very comforting to me, and I continued to just spill apologies out of my mouth. Looking back on it, it meant a lot to me.

I have learned that over the course of 8 months, I've been awarded Employee of the Month which people who have been there over a year haven't even gotten. I've built friends and healthy co-worker relations. And I have established a great reference. I've sorted clearance for hours. I've done other's floor plans single-handedly. I've delivered some of the best customer service that store has ever seen. I've earned it all, by working my fucking ass off!

Seeing that I have no one to thank but myself really takes any fear of independence out of me.

Misunderstanding?

At times I must admit that the games in life (because that is all life is composed of) really exhaust me.

Today after school, I had detention with Profesora. It was alright despite the fact that her room was ridiculously hot. I got home a few minutes after five, and took a nap since I was going out with Diane, late tonight.

Once I awoke from my shower Diane was over, and Charles and his faggot-ass "friend" were over. Diane told me that she said I had detention--she has to be the stupidest friend I have. Fucking A. Then she said that Charles opened his fat mouth (for something other than food for a change) to say, "He got caught smoking on the stage." Apparently Aneta believed him. She's pissed about that.

Aneta told me Charles is the biggest liar she's ever met. If she's sticking by that statement, I think Aneta is the most naive, foolish, desperate woman I've ever met.

The other day I was informed that someone posted an ad on Craigslist for me. And undeniably, someone who say me at work, had indeed wanted to meet me. He's 48. Right there he was untouchable territory. But apparently I'm an idiot and I can't handle anything myself. I think Aneta thinks I was going to give it a go. Sorry, I don't want to end up with 4 failed marriages, and several affairs in between.

Aneta was mad at Charles the other day, but after I got out of the shower they were dancing. Are you serious. I know why Kind Arthur doesn't understand them and got out of dodge. Charles said he could take care of Aneta all on his own, have fun with that burger boy.

I'm still having a bit of a personal struggle still. I feel ugly and unwanted 99.9% of the time. I'm just a try hard with over plucked eyebrows, too much makeup, and too much gel in his hair. I'm just waiting for a revolution.