before I began to write this entry, I counted how many days it has been since my last entry. only to find that when I hit the "your buddy list" link, it told me how many days it had been since my last update. dammit. Oh, it's been 10 days by the way.

ViciousJ, might I say that seeing you replied the other day made me smile a right big smile. I don't know why. I guess it's because I feel like I've deserted--quite without intent--my journal/diary friends. Life's been really busy lately, I guess. Somewhat drama-less until recently, but busy all the same. Anyway, thank you.

Speaking of drama. It's never really very far, is it? The boyfriend. Now there's a debacle (sp?), kids. The relationship started out fun and blah blah. But it isn't fun anymore. All the redneckish things and the stupid, immature idiosyncrasies that I thought I could tolerate in the beginning have driven me to a point of insanity that I can tolerate no longer. And what's sad is that the only definite, concrete statement I can give anyone as to why I'm going to break up with him is this: I'm not happy. I'm not happy because of the aforementioned stupid things that make me crazy. Let's go with some examples, shall we?

First and ultimately foremost, he suffocates the hell out of me. I can't walk five steps away from him without him following right behind me like a puppy and hovering over me. It's damned incesant. And he always has to have his hands on me. On my back around my waist. It makes my skin crawl. You do not get clingy with a girl who has serious issues with her personal space. That issue being that SHE DOESN'T WANT YOU IN IT! I have this thing with my personal space. It was invaded once, so I'm really protective with it. You want to hug me, et cetera, et cetera, that's fine. But I see no need for someone to have their hands on me at all times.

...hold please...my poor meg...*says a prayer*...

continuing with my tirade:

With the clingy issue out of the way, let's cover Chris' lack of ambition. Chris is perfectly content with living the rest of his life in the middle of nowhere in a ramshackle shack and doing manual labor for no money. I'm not saying that's a bad way to live life, if it's what makes you happy. However, it means I can't be your significant other. I need someone who has goals for their life. Something they want to accomplish. I want someone who has a purpose. Because, I guess, that's how I live my life. Constantly striving for some dream or goal or something. I'm not saying he has to go to school or something, but I don't know. I just would like someone who has something to strive for, such that our telephone conversations don't consist of the things I did/learned at school in a day because he was working and doing the same mundane things over and over and over. Chris needs a simple girl who was raised in the country and doesn't mind living here for the rest of her life with some dogs and some horses. Who also doesn't know what Prada is and doesn't know the meaning of the word idiosyncratic. Chris isn't stupid. But his life has been saturated with people putting him down (and I know I'm not doing him any better) that he's lived up to his own self-fulfilling prophecy (i.e. if you've been told all your life that you will fail, you begin to belive it. If you believe that you will fail, then you will fail because you have no belief in yourself). And because he's lived that sort of life, he feels that he is unable to accomplish anything. Which is something I don't understand. His older brother, who I am extremely close to, is a fellow psych major with a fantastic GPA. Johnathon is very smart and very accomplished. I don't understand. I now feel like I'm chasing my proverbial tail with this part of my rant and I shall now move on.

Karate. He is obsesed with Karate and weapons. Knives, axes, swords, you get the point. He has been talking about taking classes for months now and and has taken a couple--at different places because "bubba-joe said this place was bad" and "if bubba-bob opens a school he'll go there". And this is a fine, great passtime for anyone--just not when he starts doing moves in the middle of Wal-Mart with my hoodie hanging from his head. And then there's this type of Martial arts that involves using a stick. So he will stand just in the middle of the store I work in and move his hands around directly infront of him, as though he has this stick thing, pretending he's twirling it. It reminds me horribly of the flagline girls in highschool who would do the same thing to practice their routine. Or of cheerleaders. Everyone's seen that. You see them moving their arms a bit as though doing a mini-rouine or something. It looks stupid. Just absurd. Then there's the let's-twirl-our-keys-around-like-they're-nunchucks-such-that-we-almost-hit-our-girlfriend-in-the-eye thing.

(*sidenote* a conversation between a friend and I:

me: oy. you should have stabbed her eyes out

L: well, stabbing ppl in the eye w/ an icepick was last year's fad

me: oh. what's the murder trend this year? piano wire?)

oy, that one gets me too. It would be fine if he were 12 and taking karate for the first time or something. But he's not. He's almost 20 (first one to make a cradle robber joke gets kicked) for crimeny's sakes. There is no reason for that. If you're playing around or something, as we're all apt to do, that's one thing because it's funny once or twice. But if it's serious and you repeatedly do it, it's immature. We won't even continue with the immaturity thing.

I have more to rant about, but that'll have to happen tomorrow. Let me make a few closing notes, then it's time for bed.

I was discussing my debacle with my coworkers. These were their (semi-serious) suggestions:

1. Have sex with him and leave him immediately thereafter.

2. Break up with him on his birthday (which is April 28th) just so that later in life I can say that I've broken up with someone on their birthday.

3. Wait it out, avoiding him when at all possible, until he's paid for his share of my trip to new orleans to see Sarah McLachlan--then take someone else.

4. Photoshop some pictures--badly just so they're funny--such that it looks like I caught him cheating.

Okay, now I've really got to go to bed. Hopefully, I'll return with the conclusion to this mess tomorrow. Good night all.

Love,

Me